50 yard

Okay but why couldn’t they still have played Quidditch during Goblet of Fire?

I understand that the champions probably wouldn’t want to deal with that while also competing in the tournament but it’s not really fair to everyone else to just cancel Quidditch for the full year.

What about the 7th years who wanted one last shot at winning the Quidditch Cup?

What about the 2nd years who were excited because they could FINALLY try out for the team?

But more so the 7th years, I mean no one even told them “btw we probs aren’t gonna have Quidditch next year so make this year count” like that’s actually really shitty.

And I understand that they needed the Quidditch field for the third task but there’s only like 5 games a year, you could’ve done them a little earlier and still had time to use this thing you teach called magic to grow the damn maze!

OR EVEN BETTER, instead of having the House Quidditch tournament, have the schools play against each other. I mean 3of the 4 champions are kick ass Seekers so why not?

OR BETTER YET have each of the champions form a team using anyone they want

Harry just asks the Gryffindor team to play with him and they use Ron to replace Oliver like in OOTP and at first he’s really nervous but then he gets his nerves on track because there’s NO WAY he’s losing to Krum after he took Hermione to the Yule Ball.

Cedric decides to try to get the best he can from all of the Houses, though the majority of his team is still Hufflepuff because he knows how they play and likes how they work together. He does find a Beauxbatons boy that makes a great Chaser though.

Karkaroff insists that Viktor only use the boys from Durmstrang (because he’s probably a misogynistic little shit) and he doesn’t really care because he’s the best Seeker in the world. Even if he just lost the Quidditch World Cup to Ireland, it’s IMPOSSIBLE that he wouldn’t be able to catch the Snitch before the other team got too far ahead.

And then there’s Fleur, who has never played Quidditch before but suddenly there’s a 13 year old red-haired Hogwarts girl asking her if she can be on her team because “I’ve been practicing with my brothers’ brooms for years and I’m actually quite good but I won’t be able to make the Gryffindor team for a few years” and Fleur agrees as long as Ginny helps her find some other teammates and gives Fleur flying lessons. Ginny accepts the offer and, in Holyhead Harpies fashion, sets out to put together an all female team because females are very unrepresented on the other teams. Ginny and Fleur ask two Bulgarian girls to be a Beater and Chaser. One of Fleur’s Beauxbatons friends is the other Beater, and Ginny asks a fifth year from the Hufflepuff team (who Cedric didn’t choose) to be the third Chaser, as well as Cho to be their Seeker. She insists that Fleur be the Keeper so that she doesn’t have to worry as much about not being steady on a broom.

Instead of all of the teams playing each other, they do it tournament style. Harry and Cedric’s teams go first. Ron is a nervous new Keeper and let’s quite a few balls in before he makes his first save and suddenly he’s on a roll. Cedric’s team has gained a substantial lead by now, but Harry spots the Snitch and just barely grabs it before Cedric (Fred and George are pleased since they’re still not over the Hufflepuff victory the year before when Harry was attacked by the dementors).

Fleur and Viktor’s teams play next. The girls have 3 superb Chasers that are scoring constantly. Every time Viktor’s Chasers make it to Fleur’s end of the pitch, they get distracted by her flowing silver hair and tend to miss without her having to do too much (which is good cause even though she’s better she’s still not QUITE comfortable on a broom). Viktor frantically searches for the Snitch because if he can get it soon they’ll still be able to pull ahead but then the Beauxbatons Beater hits a Bludger right at him and in the moment it took him to dodge it, Cho had spotted the Snitch and already had her hand stretched out to grab it. Before he could even reach her elbow she had the tiny ball held tight in her fist.

The losers of the first round face off for 3rd and 4th place. Viktor, with a sore ego about getting beaten to the Snitch in the last game, catches it within 20 minutes. Cedric laughs the whole thing off and gives Viktor his congratulations, but he now has a harder drive to win the Triwizard Tournament.

Everyone is anxious for the Potter/Delacour game. Fleur knows that Angelina, Katie, and Alicia won’t be effected by her the way the Durmstrang boys were, so she trains even harder to keep up with the rest of her team. The game is underway and it’s neck and neck. Both teams have three excellent Chasers, causing the Quaffle to change sides constantly. Ron and Fleur are both highly nervous, but still manage to block most goals. Fred and George know that Ginny is the other team’s best Chaser, but can’t find it in themselves to try and knock their 13 year old sister off her broom. The Durmstrang Beater doesn’t have any such obligations, and aims a Bludger at Alicia as she’s speeding down the pitch towards Fleur. It hits her in the ribs and she is escorted down to Madame Pomfrey. Now that Fleur’s team has the upper hand, they start pulling ahead. Harry and Cho are playing rough searching for the Snitch, trying to psyche the other out by flying in their path. Harry notices Cho following him and decides to dive as though he’s seen the Snitch somewhere near the bottom of the field. He’s surprised when he doesn’t see her dive after him and looks up just in time to see her catch the Snitch 50 yards away. Everyone heads back towards the ground, the girls have a group hug because never in a million years did they think they were ACTUALLY going to win! Harry breaks through to shake Fleur’s hand and tells her “good game”. Fred and George are staring in astonishment at their little sister because “What the hell, Gin? Where did you learn to fly like that?” while Angelina is nearby cursing the fact that they can’t have 4 Chasers on the Gryffindor team.

In the end, Dumbledore allows the teams to throw a party in the Great Hall. Some Hufflepuffs make flower crowns for Fleur’s team to wear as the winners. A hush falls over the Hall when the doors open and McGonagall comes in. They expect her to yell at them for being too loud, but instead she walks over to Fleur and hands her the Quidditch Cup because she “won it fair and square” but explicitly states that if she does not return it to her by the end of the year “I will go to France and take it from you myself”. The Hall bursts into laughter and applause.

ok homestuck shit aside i really fucking love 17776 its so fucking ridiculous

like. a football game between washington and new mexico. thats the fucking size of the field. is the space between the states of Washington down to New Mexico. youd expect the teams to be huge but the actual size of the teams is just the standard 11-11. it takes fucking days for the ball to move even 50 yards and defense could just undo it at any time

and because these humans are immortal theyve beet at this shit for almost 800 fucking years. this single game. and then washington falls off a cliff and theyre duking it out in a 250 yard wide canyon to get the ball over the new mexico line and fucking CHRIST

its so fucking ridiculous and i love it so much

oceansv  asked:

Hi 😊 I wanted to ask you something. Sea lions often approach divers and people they find swimming where they are. As people must keep a certain distance and not go and approach some animals (whales and dolphins, for example) unless the animal decides to get close, I was wondering if it's okay to be so near them in the water, in case sea lions are the ones that approach people. Thank you!

It’s a great question! Watching marine mammals in their natural habitat can be a great way to learn about the environment and promote conservation (plus, it’s fun!). But it’s always important to give animals lots of space to live their lives and carry out their daily activities. Getting too close can make it harder for animals to feed or rest, which in turn makes it harder for them to survive. With that in mind, as you point out, the Marine Mammal Protection Act prohibits harassing marine mammals in the wild. 

In general, guidelines include:

  • observing wild dolphins, porpoises, and seals from a safe distance of at least 50 yards by land or sea
  • observing large whales from a safe distance of at least 100 yards by land or sea
  • using binoculars or telephoto lenses to see better without getting too close
  • avoiding abrupt movements or circling and entrapping marine mammals between watercraft, or between watercraft and shore.

Still, like you say, sea lions and other animals are quite curious and often do approach divers! Case in point:

Photo in Olympic Coast National Marine Sanctuary; credit David J. Ruck/NOAA

So what do you do when this happens?

Typically, if you see an animal or it approaches you, the best way to go is to remain calm, watch it, and don’t attempt to interact with it. Don’t get any closer than it wants to get, and when it decides to swim away, let it; don’t follow it!

Basically, you shouldn’t closely approach or attempt to interact with marine mammals in the wild – but if they come to you, you can watch calmly. But never attempt to pet, touch, or feed them!

You can find more information about viewing guidelines here and about good ocean etiquette here.

Thanks for taking care of our ocean’s amazing mammals!


My New Henry Big Boy in .357 mag/.38 Special

About a month and a half ago I used my tax refund to buy this beautiful new lever action rifle. The Henry Big Boy is a lever action produced by Henry Repeating Arms Co., one of their many lever action products. Mine is chambered in .357 magnum, many of their rifles are chambered in pistol caliber cartridges, hearkening back to the days of the Old West when Winchester lever actions were chambered in cowboy pistol cartridges such as .44-40 and .45 Colt. The Henry Big Boy comes in .357, .44 mag, and .45 colt. Since mine is .357, it can also feed and chamber .38 special as well.  I bought this possibly as a short range hunting rifle, something to use when I don’t feel like using my flintlock.  Plus, since it can fire .38 special, it is a very economical plinking gun.  .357 is a fairly powerful pistol cartridge, but from a rifle it sports some very impressive ballistics, and it’s certainly good enough to take medium sized game at short ranges.

The most notable feature of the Big Boy is its brass frame. They also offer the same model with an iron frame, a checkered stock, and rubber butt pad. I considered buying that one because it would probably be more practical as a rifle to lug through thick woods. However the lovely gleam of it’s brass frame, brass butt plate, and brass barrel bands was too much to resist.  It will probably get scratched, oh well, it was worth it. The rifle features a neat hexagon barrel, adding to its nostalgic old timey look and giving you the feeling that you are handling an old fashioned cowboy gun. It features a ten round fixed magazine, which is loaded through a loading port at the end of the barrel.  To load the magazine port must be twisted and magazine rod removed. Then you insert the cartridges one at a time, then re-insert the magazine rod.

When I first bought this rifle the magazine rod was very hard to twist and operate.  However the more and more I work it, the more its wearing in and its becoming progressively easier.

Often the Henry Golden Boy and Big Boy is mistaken as a replica of the American Civil War era Henry M1860 lever action rifle. However this is not true. Rather, the Big Boy is almost like a hybrid of a Henry rifle, a Winchester Model 1866, and a Marlin Model 336.  It has the loading port system and tube magazine of the Henry, the forearm and brass frame of a Winchester M1866, and a Marlin action.  Regardless you still get this feeling of handling and firing an antique cowboy lever gun, a must for my tastes. The sights are simple, featuring and adjustable ramp rear sight and a front post sight.

Another feature I must mention is a transfer bar, which means you can have the hammer uncocked and down on a round without risk of accidental discharge, which is probably the most important modern feature on a rifle with design elements dating to the 19th century.

With .357 the action is very smooth and operates without any problem.  I did some plinking with both .357 and .38 special.  I purchased some cheap bottom shelf ammo not thinking about the possibility of feeding issues. Problem is I bought this really cheap .38 special ammo that used lacquered steel casings, and ejection was certainly is issue. I later bought some better quality .38 special with brass casings and found they fed with far less issues, though the action isn’t as smooth as with .357 and you kind of have to work the lever harder and faster to ensure proper feeding and ejection. The recoil is very light, even firing .357 magnum. Recoil wise I would compare it to 7.62x39.  So it will definitely save your shoulder despite the brass buttplate.

At first I just did some simple close range plinking at steel swivel targets at 25 yards.  The rifle hits right on at that range and it certainly is a fun plinker.  Then I took it to the 100 yard range to see what I can do. I must admit I had a bit of a handicap shooting, I work night shift and it was a particularly bright day. So my eyes were very sensitive to light and my vision a bit blurry. I think I’m turning into a vampire. 

I was shooting from a bench rest with open sights, using Fiocchi .357 magnum ammo with 142 grain bullets.  I was firing three rounds groups.  First I tested it at 50 yards. At 50 yards the target and visible and well defined. Note that each increment on the grid is one inch.

The first group shot to the right and high aiming at the bull. I decided to play with the adjustable ramp sight, lowering it one increment.  The result was the 2nd group, which shot low.  Thus I reset the sight and adjusted but aiming low, and to the left, resulting in the third group. At 50 yards it shoots on average 1-2 inch groupings.

I then continued by shooting at 100 yards.  At 100 yards the front sight completely covers the bullseye and black portion of the target.

Despite increasing range to 100 yards it still shot high, in fact it shot much higher than at 50 yards. The first grouping I was aiming right for the bull, resulting again in a high group, with one shot completely off the target. I can only assume know that the .357 magnum’s ballistic arc from this rifle is much more considerable than I had previously imagined.  Thus I adjust the the ramp sight down one increment. Like at 50 yards it then shot too low (2nd group). So I reset the sight and decided to aim low, resulting in the third group. At 100 yards it shoots around 2-3 inch groupings on average.

In my final test, I went back to 50 yards. This time I was not using the bench rest, instead firing off hand.  Nor was I taking time with my shots.  Basically the scenario was that I am the sheriff of a western town and some outlaws are up to no good and I have to deal with them.  So I was shooting as quickly as possible while keeping rounds on target.  This was the result.

Now I must say this is no tack driver, nor is it a long range rifle, and I bought it with that expectation. Ballistics data using a 140 grain bullet show that it has a drop of -.2 inches at 100 yards and -5 inches at 150 yards.  So 100 yards is probably the edge of its optimum range. Mine seems to shoot high, but I still would not go beyond 100 yards.  That is fine to me since where I traditionally hunt it is thick woods and there is rarely any continuous ground more than 75 yards. With a scope you could probably get much better range and accuracy out of it. I imagine that if I was using much better quality ammunition with hotter loads, say +P or buffalo bore ammunition, the groupings would tighten considerably at 100 yards and the adjustable sites will be much more useful.  I shall try that some time in the future and post the results.

My final comments on the Henry Big Boy had to do with its quality. Originally I wanted to buy a Rossi Circuit Judge in .410/.45 long colt, most because of the allure of a revolving rifle.  However, I had seen many complaints about the quality of it and manufacturing flaws. Plus it carried the Taurus name (Rossi is owned by Taurus), a Brazilian company which has a reputation for iffy quality control.  So I decided to ditch the Circuit Judge. I also looked at the Ross M1892 lever action rifle, also in .357/38 and also made by Taurus.  It was $300 cheaper (the Henry cost $730), but when I saw it in person I was not impressed.  The metal work was OK, as was the metal finish, done satisfactorily but nothing thrilling.  However the wood and wood finish looked bad, as if it had been done by either child labor, a drunk, or someone who just didn’t really care about what they were doing.  It was really off putting.  The Henry looks like a rifle of unparalleled quality at first glance. It looks like someone made them with an eye for detail and with uncompromising quality in mind. I also own a Henry lever action in .22LR as well, although with a steel frame, and I can say the same for it.  When the sales person took it out of the box I immediately blurted “holy shit, that’s a beautiful rifIe.” I can’t stress the quality of workmanship that goes into Henry rifles, they are more than just firearms, they are works of art.  They are the only metallic cartridge firearms I own and I have no plans nor feel the need to buy any other modern firearms again. Instead I want to focus my collection on antique muzzleloaders or replicas of antique muzzleloaders.  So for me the quality of the Henry trumps all else, its a rifle you can own for a lifetime and can be passed down from generation to generation.

Straight White Boy Problem #496

watch me do this sick lacrosse trick dude *catches ball behind the back, cradles the ball, and launches the ball at approximately 42.069 mph at bro who is 50 yards away but the ball goes 12 feet over my bro* man why couldnt you catch that your lacrosse stick is the longest on the whole team ugh

snipsnop of got7 as college students!

mark tuan - chemical engineering major / that guy who never studies but still scores the best / looks at encyclopedias during his spare time to prep for the weekly trivia game night at his fav pub down the street / also screams v loudly when playing video games

im jaebum - currently on the pre-dental tract but he knows deep down that his heart says film or music theory / can be seen on a large blanket outside somewhere with youngjae jamming out / intimidates everyone in a 50 yard radius of him

jackson wang - was a psych major, then pre-med, then marketing, then accounting, then english, then dietetics, then marine biology, but now he’s a communications and philosophy double major / plays all the club sports / sucks up to his professors so well that they get sad when they don’t see jackson in their classes that day; “can someone check if jackson wang is okay today?”

park jinyoung - poetry and literature double major with minors in creative writing, gender & women studies, and philosophy / cool frat bro of gamma omega theta; yugyeom is his little / savage to literally everyone / but gets all cutesy and super soft around the 3 year old child he babysits 

choi youngjae - nursing major / wants to heal souls physically and mentally with music..and also with modern day medical advancements ofc / lead part in quite literally every musical 

kunpimook bambam bhuwakul - fashion marketing and management major / interning at Gucci (sad that he didn’t get any free stuff; rad gucci office pen is his now tho) / so current with all the new memes; he and yugyeom frequently tag each other on all sorts of social medica platforms 

kim yugyeom - pre-med with an interest in pediatrics / omg so studious / bowl cut is a hit with his peers / often texts jungkook asking how to get places bc he literally cannot remember how to get to the library still 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BECCA!! You are incredibly amazing and I hope you have a wonderful day!!@beccaanne814-blog

The waterfall was breathtaking. The sound of it alone put you at ease. You took a deep breath and looked around at the beautiful sight that was in front of you.

This was where you felt peace.

You wanted to take a photo of what was in front of you, but you were sure that it wouldn’t do it justice.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

You nodded and then looked at your boyfriend, “It really is.”

Keep reading

The Wedding

Dear Jessa.  I have always been inspired by your amazing fics, so here is a little something I wrote, that was inspired by one of your drabbles…. I think you’ll know which one.   Happy Birthday. 

by @louezem

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The Irish Brigade,

During the American Civil War, there were a handful of units on both sides that gained a reputation as being elite units, among the bravest, toughest, and fiercest of the army.  The Iron Brigade for example, has a reputation as the best unit of the whole Civil War. Another unit to earn such a distinction was the Irish Brigade, consisting of Irish immigrants and composed of the 69th, 88th, and 63rd New York Volunteer Regiments.  The Irish Brigade was commanded by Brigadier Gen. Thomas Francis Meagher, who was born in Ireland but had to flee to America because he was a participant in the failed Revolution of 1848 against the British.

The courage and tenacity of the Irish Brigade began at the Battle of Bull Run AKA Manasas when it was one of the few units that didn’t break and run when the Confederates gained the upper hand.  Holding firm, the Irish Brigade formed an effective rear guard, holding off the entire Army of Virginia while the Army of the Potomac fled in panic, thus averting a major military disaster for the Union.  Throughout the rest of the war, the Irish Brigade was often employed as elite shock troops, either forming the spearhead of Union assaults or being employed in desperate rear guard actions as the Union Army retreated.  The big problem with being an elite unit is that elite units suffer disproportionate casualties.  The Irish Brigade was no exception.  Originally the Irish Brigade originally consisted of around 2,000 - 2,500 men.  When the unit was disbanded, it had less than 600 men. 

Much of the Irish Brigade’s woes stemmed from the fact that they were armed with Model 1842 Springfield muskets which were smoothbores.  Gen. Meagher insisted on the smoothbore muskets because then they could be loaded with buck and ball unlike a rifled musket.  Instead of a single bullet, the musket was loaded with a .69 caliber ball and 4 to 8 pieces of .30 caliber buckshot, thus turning the musket in a shotgun.  The problem with this was that their muskets had limited range, no more than 50 - 100 yards.  When advancing against enemies armed with rifled muskets, which had a range of several hundred yards, the brigade would suffer horrific casualties.  However, once in range, a volley from the Brigade would be devastating.  Due to the casualties and loss of manpower, the Irish Brigade was disbanded in June of 1864, them men reassigned to other units.

A Little Slow On Love (pt. 2)

title : A Little Slow On Love

with : Hyungwon (Monsta X)

summary : Seeing as you’re failing your classes, your Mother hires you a private tutor. (fluff) 

(Part 1 x |Part 3 x |Part 4 x |Part 5 x |Part 6 x)

Originally posted by wonhontology

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Tough Mudder MSP 2017 recap

woke up about 520 am, got dressed and met our team outside the hotel at 6am for the drive to the venue.  drive time was about an hour.  @trivialsheila prepared the team’s breakfast bagel and drinks for us to consume on the way.  i had toasted bagel w/ peanut butter and black coffee.  we checked in at the venue and were at the starting line by 730am.  we were in the 1st wave that started at 8am.  the dude in the green shirt above is the Tough Mudder coach that gets you fired up and you say the Tough Mudder pledge 

The Tough Mudder Pledge

  • I understand that Tough Mudder is not a race but a challenge.
  • I put teamwork and camaraderie before my course time.
  • I do not whine – kids whine.
  • I help my fellow mudders complete the course.
  • I overcome all fears.

and sing the U.S. national anthem.  the weather was nice.  about 65F and moderate humidity to start.

more photos and description after the break

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2017 boston marathon recap


Here is what I remember of April 17…the weekend began with friends and hosts Kevin and Mariani taking me out for seafood pasta on Saturday night, then a perfectly cooked sirloin steak dinner out on Sunday night to get set for Monday morning’s marathon.  Slept okay Sunday night, too much going on in the brain to completely relax.

Kevin dropped me off at the Red Line Alewife station early Monday morning, 6 am, to head down to the Commons for the buses to take us to the start at Hopkinton.  Seemed everyone on the train was either running or cheering for the marathon.

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“Chasing Waterfalls”

Happy x Reader
(GIF isn’t mine)

“Hap, come on, we’ve been walking for an hour,” you groaned, chasing behind him and pouting as he grunted in reply to you and tromped through the woods, trees that were hundreds of years old littered the area and left very little room for light to shine through. 

Even though it was midday, easily 105 degrees outside and you were at a cool and shady 85 as you meandered around behind him, you were still complaining because when you asked Happy to take you on a date, this wasn’t what you had in mind. 

He led the way, his black SAMCRO bag with the skeleton on the top mocking you with every sweaty step you took, your own backpack heavy on your shoulders. 

You were looking down, watching your boots as you took step after step, army ants and leaves crunching under your feet when you ran into something blocking the once clear path ahead of you.
It was Happy, of course, stopping abruptly and causing you to nearly trample him.

“Happy what the fuck I almo–” you stopped as your eyes carried your gaze ahead of him. An honest to goodness waterfall!
“Wow…” you spoke.
“I know,” his deep voice rasped as he pulled his bag off his shoulders and set it down. He took your hand in his, squeezing it and making you look at him as he smiled down at you.
“How did you find this?” you gasped, looking around at the beauty. It was almost as if it had been untouched, allowed to exist undisturbed since the beginning of time. It was amazing.

Happy didn’t answer you, which wasn’t uncommon. You asked a lot of questions that went mostly unanswered by him. Sometimes you caught it and pressed him on it until he did answer you, usually angrily, sometimes you pressed him and he didn’t budge, and even still, sometimes you never realized he had ignored you and he got away scot free.

You noticed this time.

It was hard to break your gaze away from the beautiful sight in front of you, but you turned to look at him. He avoided your eye contact and you pressed him, “Hap… What were you doing to come upon this place?” you asked again and he started walking towards the water away from you, not speaking still.

“Happy Lowman!” you shouted, scaring off some birds in the trees nearby and he stopped walking. Happy took a deep breath in and breathed it out before turning to you, the look in his eyes saying he did not want to tell you the answer to the question.

Somehow you already knew before he said anything what his answer would be.

Your jaw dropped as he looked at you with his puppy dog eyes that said ‘I really don’t want to do this’ and you scoffed, folding your arms in front of you.
“You did not–” you began and he interrupted you, “–Baby I know, I know but it was just too pretty not to show you.”

You let out a frustrated chuckle and shook your head dropping your backpack off your shoulders, sticking your tongue out to lick across your bottom lip before sucking it in your mouth and clamping your teeth down.

“I can’t believe you. You are a piece of work Happy Lowman. Where are they buried? Right under my feet?”

“No!” he defended, furrowing his brows, “Over there…” he pointed to a clearing about 50 yards away and you scoffed again, throwing your hands up in the air, “Well at least you had the decency to spare me half a football field!” you smiled, not a happy smile, but one that showed you were beyond frustrated with your man. 

Happy started walking back towards you as you began to rant, “Seriously Happy I don’t know where you get off thinking it’s okay to bring me back to the scene of crime you committed! You know I don’t have any illusions about what you do but I don’t want to be involve–”
Happy grabbed your face and crushed his lips against yours. Suddenly the stress of being right up on a burial ground didn’t bother you too much and you relaxed in his grip, his hands sliding down to your shoulders, down your arms and to your waist.
He gripped your hips and pulled you tightly to him, his pelvis pressing against yours as his lips and tongue worked against you, moving down to your neck.

He broke away from your neck, reaching down and rifling through his bag to pull out a thick blanket you insisted he pack for your picnic. He laid the blanket out on the ground, looking back up to you and pointing.

“Sit,” he ordered and you raised a brow at him, being defiant on purpose to give him a hard time.

His eyes darkened as he realized you weren’t going to follow his orders.

This was a game he enjoyed playing.

He stepped to you, leaning into you and kissing you again, this time with more force, before he lifted you with ease, making you wrap your arms and legs around him as he stepped back to the blanket and knelt down with you, laying you out on the blanket and settling himself between your legs.
You moaned as the heat between your thighs heightened and you lifted your hips up to grind against him. He broke from your kiss, staring into your eyes and pressing his forehead against yours, flashing you a wicked smile, knowing he had you right where he wanted you. His forehead still pressed against yours, he looked down between your bodies and snaked his arm in between the two of you, grasping you between your legs, his fingers pressing against your ass and his thumb bearing down on your core through your jeans.
You moaned and squirmed under his touch and he chuckled, looking back into your eyes.

“You want it?” he smirked, already knowing the answer.

You bit your lip and stared back into his eyes, nodding your head at him and he immediately went to work on your jeans, unbuttoning and tugging them down before turning his attention to his own belt and fly.

He ran a finger through your folds, already knowing you were soaking wet and didn’t need any help. He basked in the fact that just a kiss and the idea of him taking you down would make the want inside you come out in full force.

He licked his lips as he looked over you, pumping himself in his hand a few times before pushing inside you with force, causing a loud gasp to escape your throat. Your hands wrapped around his neck, your fingers sliding underneath the collar of his tee shirt to dig into his back as he thrusted roughly inside you, grunting each time he entered you. He pushed into you and stilled himself inside, pulling away from you and pulling the front of his shirt up over his head to expose his chiseled abs and chest, littered with outlaw tattoos.
He knew you loved running your fingers down his body while he fucked you, and he smiled as your eyes lit up at the sight of his skin, reaching to run your fingertips gently over his body. 

Your touch riled him up even more, as he set a new, quicker pace.

The moans and groans the two of you made and the sound of the cascading water from the fall yards away were the only noises that could be heard.

He pulled out of you, grabbing one of your legs at the knee and flipping you over, wasting no time in pushing back into you, but stopping once he was inside and moving his hips from side to side while in you, stretching you further.

You clutched the blanket underneath you tightly in your fists as Happy’s dick explored parts of your body that only he knew, pushing you over the edge and making you call out his name.

He pressed his hands down against your lower back, holding you to the ground as he pounded into you with furor, causing you to jump and crawl away from him but he pulled you back and held you still, leaning over your body to your ear, where his breath tickled your senses as he let out one last groan before collapsing on top of you, pulling out and releasing his seed on the blanket below.
“So…” he kissed your shoulder, “you sure the dead bodies bother you?” he chuckled as he placed small kisses down your spine.


Pretty Pastel!Eren managed to convince his boyfriend, Polite Punk!Armin, to wear pastel fashion for a week. Least to say, Armin wouldn’t mind dressing that way again if Eren asked him to. Only for occasions though.

IRAQ. Nineveh governorate. Tal Afar. January 18, 2005. Samar Hassan, 5, screams after her parents were killed by U.S. soldiers from the 25th Infantry Division. The troops fired on the Hassan family car when it unwittingly approached them during a dusk patrol. Parents Camilla and Hussein Hassan were killed instantly, and a son Raccan, 11, was seriously wounded in the abdomen. Racan, paralysed form the waist down, was latter treated in the U.S.

Chris Hondros was with an army unit when its soldiers killed the parents of this blood-spattered girl at a checkpoint, and his photo was published around the world. Mr. Hondros was kicked out of the unit, though he soon became embedded with a unit in another city.

The following is an excerpt written by Chris Hondros about his photograph. The writing was pulled from his laptop recovered after he was killed on assignment in Libya. 

“At six in Tal Afar, it isn’t yet quite dark. A gloom hung over the roads and alleys with just a little dark blue light from the sky. No one was out. As we made our way up a broad boulevard, in the distance I could see a car making its way toward us. With all the relentless car bombings in Iraq, groups of soldiers are understandably nervous about any cars that approach them, and they do not allow private cars to breech the perimeter of their foot patrols, particularly at night. 

"We have a car coming,“ someone called out, as we entered an intersection. We could see the car about a 100 meters down but I doubt if it could see us—it would be hard to see this group of darkly camouflaged men in the gloom. That already gave me a bad feeling about what might conspire, so I moved over to the side of the road, out of anyone’s line of fire. The car continued coming; I couldn’t see it anymore from my perch but could hear its engine now, a high whine that sounded more like acceleration than slowing down. It was maybe 50 yards away now. “Stop that car!” someone shouted out, seemingly simultaneously with someone firing what sounded like warning shots—a staccato measured burst. The car continued coming. And then perhaps less than a second later a cacophony of fire, shots rattling off in a chaotic overlapping din. The car entered the intersection on its momentum and still shots were penetrating it and slicing it. Finally the shooting stopped, the car drifted listlessly, clearly no longer being steered, and came to a rest on a curb. I stared at it in shocked silence. Soldiers began to approach it warily. The sound of children crying came from the car, and my worst fears were instantly realized. I walked up to the car and a teenaged girl with her head covered emerged from the back, wailing and gesturing wildly. After her came a boy, tumbling onto the ground from the seat, already leaving a pool of blood. “Civilians!” someone shouted, along with a stream of epithets, and soldiers ran up. More children—it ended up being six all told—started emerging, crying, their faces mottled with blood in long streaks. The troops carried them all off to a nearby sidewalk. It was by now almost completely dark. There, working only by lights mounted on ends of their rifles, an Army medic began assessing the children’s injuries, running his hands up and down their bodies like he was frisking them, looking for wounds. Incredibly, the only injuries were a girl with a cut hand and a boy with a superficial gash in the small of his back that was bleeding heavily but wasn’t life-threatening. The medic immediately began to bind it, while the boy crouched against a wall, his face showing more fear than pain. From the sidewalk I could see into the bullet-mottled windshield more clearly, and even my hardened nerves gave a start—the driver of the car, a man, was penetrated by so many bullets that his skull had collapsed, leaving his body grotesquely disfigured. A woman also lay dead in the front, still covered in her Muslim clothing and harder to see. Body bags were found and soldiers grimly set about placing the two bodies in them. 
 Meanwhile, the children continued to wail and scream, huddled against a wall, sandwiched between soldiers either binding their wounds or trying to comfort them. The Army’s translator later told me that this was a Turkoman family and that the teenage girl kept shouting, “Why did they shoot us? We have no weapons! We were just going home!“
 There was a small delay in getting the armored vehicles lined up and ready, and soon the convoy moved to the main Tal Afar hospital. It was fairly large and surprisingly well outfitted, with sober-looking doctors in white coats ambling about its sea-green halls. The young children were carried in by soldiers and by their teenaged sister. Only the boy with the gash on his back needed any further medical attention, and the Army medic and an Iraqi doctor quickly chatted over his prognosis. “Oh, this will be okay,” the Iraqi doctor said in broken English, roughly pulling the skin on the edge of the wound, causing the boy to howl. “We will take care of him fine.” The unit’s captain, Thomas Siebold, was adamant that the children be kept in a waiting room when the body bags, which were waiting outside on gurneys, were brought through the doors to be taken to the morgue. “They’ve seen enough,” he said. “I don’t want them seeing any more tonight.” I thought of Seibold’s office where I’d met up with him earlier, and the picture of his smiling 5-year-old daughter filling the entire desktop of his computer at his desk.”

Photograph: Chris Hondros/Getty Images



TED: And this is why, I guess where it counts, is to me that means that we go over things in great detail. But not just the incident itself. Ultimately, whether it’s to you or somebody else because basically it all began in Washington State, that is, that’s where I was living; that’s where I grew up as a kid and that’s where I grew up as a young man. And those kinds of images, impulses, and behaviors which ultimately lead to the violent behavior; you know, current, if you will, in Washington State that kind of… A broad understanding that I’m looking for is going to come during those years I lived in Washington State. Unfortunately, I guess from your standpoint, it was basically Washington State where those first crimes, incidences, murders took place.
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TED: Well, let’s just do one here. I mean to start. Obviously we gotta start somewhere. And I think we might, we might… It’s a long-shot, a pretty long shot; we might be able to get something out of it. At least some of that so-called tangible evidence that might be of some value. Not only to you but to others. And maybe a bit of information, even if you don’t find anything else it might be of some value to families.
TED: So we’ll do… I understand that the * site, which I could describe to you, would describe to you if you want. There were remains of three individuals found; two identified, one not. Because the kind of remains that were found were so few and unidentifiable. What do you want?
BOB KEPPEL: I’d like to know-
TED: The description of the site first? How to get there? You just don’t make this up.
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TED: Maybe half a mile, quarter mile down this little side road.. If you kept on following it all the way down.
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TED: Oh, well, Lord knows what the little creatures up there did; what the animals would have done. But I think… Well, let me start with one. Let me start this way. The unidentified remains…This is where I’m a little bit… The presence of the officers down here is a little bit unnerving. Some of this stuff I don’t mind talking about because they wouldn’t know it from Adam. But I can write it down or I could whisper it to you, whatever. I just don’t want the police getting any kind of names at this point.
[tape cuts here]
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TED: [whispering] Can you hear that?
BOB KEPPEL: I can hear it, yeah.
TED: [whispering] Okay. I just wrote, like I said, that the Hawkins girl’s head was severed and taken up the road about 25 to 50 yards and buried in a location about 10 yards west of the road on a rocky hillside. Did you hear that?
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TED: Yeah. Not anything that you would have found that I know of. Probably you would have found damage to the head; the jaw in particular, probably broken. But if you’d found that you would have known who it was. Is there any reason you’re asking me that question?
BOB KEPPEL: Well I wondered.
[tape cuts here]
[tape picks up here]
TED: I was moving up the alley using a briefcase and some crutches and a young woman walked down. I saw her round the north end of the block into the alley and stop for a moment and then keep on walking down the alley toward me. About halfway down the block I encountered her and asked to help me carry the briefcase, which she did and we walked back up the alley. Across the street, turned right on the sidewalk in front of the fraternity house on the corner there. Rounded the corner on the left going north on 47. Midway in the block there used to be a parking lots they used to make out of burned down houses in that area.
[tape cuts here]
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TED: We were to the car…
BOB KEPPEL: You were to the car.
TED: Basically when we reached the car what happened was I knocked her unconscious with the crowbar.
BOB KEPPEL: Where’d you have that?
TED: By the car.
BOB KEPPEL: Alright. Outside?
TED: Outside and back of the car.
BOB KEPPEL: Did she see it?
TED: No. And then there were some handcuffs there along with the crowbar.
BOB KEPPEL: Along with what?
TED: The crowbar. And I handcuffed her and put her in the passengers side of the car and drove away.
BOB KEPPEL: Was she alive or dead then?
TED: Oh, no she was quite… Well she was unconscious but very much alive.
[tape cuts here]