founding of baltimore

hi, if you’re having a good day remember that once the team found neil after baltimore and he came back to palmetto, he literally sat down with all of them and told them that he was planning on leaving by the end of the season, planning on telling the fbi everything, like…. not even 48 hours after being kidnapped, tortured and almost killed, he sat down and told them that he had accepted that he’d die in a few months, that he started to spend more time and put some effort into his relationships with the team because he knew he didn’t had much time left. that he wanted to keep playing with them, that he wanted them to win and then die a fox once his time was over. they literally had to sit and hear it all coming from neil after everything that happened that night. andrew was right by his fucking side and had to hear that he planned on dying all along right after realizing that he could never recover from it if that ever happened. they had spent the other night thinking what if, what if, imagining everything that could have happened to neil and then seeing on his face and arms everything that did happened ONLY to have to do it all over again, but knowing the entire truth about him now, with the knowledge that the past few months were a goodbye and the feeling of what’s like to lose neil fresh in their memory.

Summary: Matt likes to think Neil is done saying things that will get himself killed. Andrew disagrees.

Relationships: Matt & Neil, established Andrew/Neil

Warning: This is very pointless and the proof that I can write fluff and crack of anything. 

Word Count: 1474

Read on AO3

Keep reading


January 19th 1809: Edgar Allan Poe born

On this day in 1809, the American poet and writer Edgar Allan Poe was born in Boston, Massachusetts. The young Poe barely knew his parents, with his father leaving the family and his mother passing away when he was just three years old. He lived with another couple as foster-parents, and was forced to gamble to pay for his tuition at the University of Virginia, which he had to drop out of due to financial difficulties. He soon joined the army and was accepted into West Point, though he was expelled after a year. After leaving the academy, Poe turned his full attention to his writing. He then traveled around Northern cities, including New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore; it was in Baltimore, in 1836, that he married his young cousin Virginia. In Richmond, Poe worked as a critic for various magazines, occasionally publishing his original work which included short stories and poems. In 1841, Poe published his ‘Murders in the Rue Morgue’, which many consider the beginning of the detective fiction genre. His most famous work, the poem ‘The Raven’, was published in 1845 to critical praise. Sadly, his wife died from tuberculosis two years later, leaving the writer grief-stricken and nearly destitute, as he never had great financial success.  On October 3rd, he was found ill in Baltimore and taken to hospital, where he died on October 7th aged 40. It is still unknown what his precise cause of death was, but alcoholism is widely believed to have played a part. While not appreciated in his lifetime, Poe is now considered one of the great American writers.

“Lord, help my poor soul”
- Poe’s last words

when the sun rises tomorrow
you will still be broken
and bruised
but unlike yesterday
you won’t be alone
and that has to count for something.
you finally found a family
worth fighting for.

jehanthepoet  asked:

I know you said prompts were closed but then you said you were writing something for Kevin so??? If you want: kandreil “I can’t believe you talked me into this.” But if prompts are closed just ignore this!

thank you! yes, sorry, it was for kevin’s birthday but im a little late. this is a) not good b) kinda cute?

“Fuck, Andrew, I can’t believe you talked me into this!” Kevin whispers as he walks tentatively. Andrew’s hands are covering Kevin’s eyes and it must be a funny image, Kevin thinks, Andrew walking on his tip toes, trying his hardest to cover his eyes despite their height difference. Kevin’s got his eyes closed just for good measure, “We’re in the middle of nowhere, I had to sit in a car for hours!”

Keep reading

TKM Canon Divergence

If Browning hadn’t beaten Kevin to telling the truth about Nathaniel:

“Andrew.” There was nothing that could get past Andrew’s blind focus on Neil’s whereabouts, nothing, except one of now only two people he still had a deal with. Andrew’s eyes flicker to Kevin, his mind still racing through possibilities for Neil’s disappearance, one hand dialling a hospital that’s way too far away for it to be plausible but at this point Andrew’s looking for impossible. Kevin is clutching Neil’s abandoned Exy racquet and he’s looking at Andrew like he’s sorry.

Like he’s about to hurt Andrew but he doesn’t want to.

Andrew wouldn’t recognise this look if it hadn’t been on Neil’s face when he first mentioned Proust; the majority of the people who’ve hurt Andrew definitely wanted to. He wants to rip the look off Kevin’s face, because there’s nothing Kevin can say that will hurt him, he’s untouchable, invulnerable…

(He hasn’t felt this breakable since he was seven and the bedroom door creaked open the first time- Since the first time in Cass’ house that he put knives to his skin and watched his not-life drip down the drain-)

Kevin clearly can’t see how close Andrew is to losing the last of his control because his throat merely works up and down for a full minute, unprepared to get the words out.

“Nathaniel’s not coming back.” He says eventually, and the racquet in his fist is squeezed so hard Andrew swears he sees it splinter before Kevin’s words register. They aren’t the words of the coward, for once, who wants to give up and let Riko drag him back to Hell, but the truth as Kevin sees it. Sunrise, Abram, Death, Truth. 

Kevin knows something.

There are hands bending his thumbs backwards almost to the point of dislocation, an almost-blue Kevin choking in air on the ground in front of him, and Neil’s racquet, that’s tumble to the tarmac had alerted his teammates on the bus to Andrew’s latest actions, is partially under the body of the bus now. There are strong arms with tribal tattoos wrapped round his waist, and stocky boxer’s hands gripping his biceps but it’s the thinner female hands on his thumbs that snap him out of his rage for long enough to understand that Kevin cannot pass on his news after he’s dead.

He watches silently, not hearing his teammates’ demands for answers, as Kevin sucks air desperately into his lungs. The red lines around his throat are going to bruise tomorrow.

Andrew wonders when Neil became worth breaking the last shred of goodness in Andrew.

“What do you know.” He demands and it’s not a question. Renee may have managed to pry his hands off Kevin’s throat, but no-one’s taking him away from his answers.

“He’s gone. He’s gone, gone, gone; he never existed in the first place!” Kevin chokes out, verging on hysteria. Abby is flapping somewhere in his peripheral vision and Renee has let go of his hands though Wymack and Matt aren’t quite trusting of his control enough yet to let him go completely, but Andrew has quite possibly never cared less about people touching him without his permission.

“Kevin what are you talking about?” Wymack’s tone is far from Andrew’s stony countenance but he’s still more stern than comforting, realisation about the subject in question marring any affection he usually shows for his son. Kevin buries his head in his hands and his shoulders are shaking. Andrew’s patience is rapidly diminishing.

“Neil. He was running. He told me he thought he’d get to the end of the year before they found him but I found a paper before when we were searching for him and the Butcher was released on early parole; I didn’t know, I didn’t know.” And this time his eyes meet Andrew’s and he’s begging Andrew to believe him. Andrew’s never liked begging. “If I’d known-” Kevin shakes his head because he knows best of all that it would have changed nothing. Kevin never would have encouraged another junkie to run, not even to keep him alive. What was life worth, if it wasn’t spent on an Exy court?

“There’s a countdown on his phone.” Andrew hears himself say without any inflection, and it’s proof of his wavering self-control that he says the words aloud at all. “He knew.”

“Who’s this Butcher?” Matt explodes from behind Andrew, two steps behind as ever. It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t, because whoever’s got him; Neil’s just as de-

“Nathan Wesninski.” If there was ever air in Andrew’s lungs there isn’t any more because he knew Neil hadn’t told him the whole truth but his father being alive, the man who burnt an iron into his shoulder and cut open his stomach with a cleaver, is information that was critical to Andrew keeping him alive.

Which is why, he supposes, Neil broke their deal today. His secrets were more important than his life.

(His secrets were more important than your life. A voice whispers and then Andrew can’t purge the thought. You were amazing, you were amazing, you were amazing-)

“He works for Riko’s family, the main branch.” Who knew Kevin had been a repository of information this whole time. How many secrets could Kevin have given him?

(But that wasn’t the point; Neil’s truths were given to Andrew because he wanted to give them. Andrew wasn’t like them)

“Where is he?” Kevin doesn’t get a chance to respond because then Wymack’s phone ringtone is piercing the air. All of them find themselves holding their breath; Kevin’s face crumples, Andrew doesn’t know how he managed to gain this let alone how to lose it-

“The FBI have found Neil. He’s in Baltimore.”

Collected on this Day in 1946

It is that time of year when old fields across western Pennsylvania are painted yellow.  

Collected on September 15, 1946, this specimen was found in New Baltimore, Somerset County by an influential curator of botany at the museum, Otto Jennings. There are many species of goldenrod (in the genus Solidago) in our region. They are often associated with runny noses and sneezing from fall allergies (hay fever), but don’t blame the goldenrods!

Their relatively heavy pollen rarely becomes air-borne, but rather these plants are insect-pollinated. Wind-pollinated species, like ragweed, are more likely your culprit. This specimen pictured here (split between two herbarium sheets) is Canada goldenrod (Solidago canadensis).  

Canada goldenrod is a fall-blooming, native species common throughout western Pennsylvania. However, it was introduced to Europe and Asia for use in floral arrangements and gardens and has since become an invasive weed in other parts of the world.

Botanists at Carnegie Museum of Natural History share pieces of the herbarium’s historical hidden collection on the dates they were discovered or collected. Check back for more!

Maryland, USA, 1904-present

The Flag of Maryland is the only state flag in the United States to be based on English heraldry. The Maryland colony was founded by Cecilius Calvert, 2nd Baron Baltimore, hence the use of his coat of arms in the flag. At first, only the gold and black Calvert arms were associated with Maryland, being reintroduced in 1854. 

The red and white Crossland arms, which belonged to the family of Calvert’s paternal grandmother, gained popularity during the American Civil War, when Maryland remained with the Union despite many citizens’ support for the Confederacy. Those who supported the Confederacy adopted the Crossland banner

The flag in its present form was first flown in 1880 in Baltimore, Maryland, at a parade marking the 150th anniversary of the founding of Baltimore. It was not officially adopted as the state flag until 1904.

Here is a requested photo for @elbowsdeep! It is the tattoo on Jack’s back.

Some trivia: 
 The poem, called Desiderata, was found in a church in Baltimore in 1692, which was roughly 200 years after America was “discovered.” It was by an unknown author and from unknown origins. In 1927 a man called Max Ehrmann (1872-1945) copyrighted it as his own. He may have rewritten it a bit, but it isn’t certain. As a lawyer Max Ehrmann knew the ins and outs to gain copyright of it. 
  It is a complex story and has been the source of inspiration for many men and women.