#Power Chord Queue

[ane-doodles]

Okay so, let's start with the goat, shall we? (Sorry, this is a long post!)

• In this dimension there is no prophecy to fulfill, there is no chosen one or a mission. On the other hand, there is an overpopulation of goats, which has led them to kill or hunt them without much remorse, considering them undesirable (for this reason, families usually separate in order to have a better chance of survival). While there is nothing illegal/wrong about interacting with goats, it is usually avoided most of the time.

• The goat's original name is Jonah, he used to be a kind of thief to earn a living since he was a child, since he was separated from his family at a young age. He ends up joining a ship as part of the crew for some time, but when he is caught stealing from the captain he ends up being thrown into the sea tied with weights to die.

• In this dimension it is assumed that after dying you are guided to the other world, to be added to the queue to reincarnate with a new life at least a century later. But Jonah is instead taken out of this line by Yuridia (the equivalent of Narinder in this world).

• Jonah is offered the opportunity to return to a new life, on the condition of "freeing the goddess who was unjustly imprisoned by her siblings", but he refuses, simply not interested. Yuridia ends up convincing him by striking a chord with him, acting affectionately and manipulating him with the idea that after she is freed he is going to marry the goddess (I want to highlight the fact that she did not say that they would both be married , but only him with her). And this is how the poor goat, already hungry for affection, ends up involved in the mess of the bishops and the goddess.

• Yuridia usually acts all loving and kind, presenting herself as someone sweet but with a strong character who constantly makes empty promises and flirts. She treats the goat - which she has renamed Kairos - as her knight who will come to save her. This ends up generating a kind of obsession/dependency in him to do what she tells him, in exchange for the goddess treating him well.

• Kairos' mission ends up being fulfilled in ten years in which several things happen:

+ The cultists hate the idea that the beloved ancient goddess Yuridia has chosen a goat as a vessel (which we already know was a not very beloved species), so they are not very respectful or kind to it. Furthermore, the fact that Yuridia possesses the goat during sermons and usually spouts aggressive doctrines has generated a rumor that probably part of the sermons are inventions of the leader.

+ During this period Kairos also learns that Yuridia's confinement was orchestrated by herself, and that in reality she only wanted to destroy the bishops so that she would be the only one with power over the lands of the old faith. Despite this he decides to continue.

+ Even though the order is to kill the Kairos bishops, he ends up just stealing their crowns and giving them to Yuridia, who disables them so that no one else can use them. The bishops are thrown out and returned to their lands as mortals.

+ Kairos also meets Yuridia's sons/guardians, who warn him that he should abandon the mission of helping the goddess for his own good and that of the world in which they live.

+ The goat also begins to know Yuridia's true intentions and behaviors as she witnesses the mistreatment of her children and various discussions about doctrines that usually end in discipline, but ends up downplaying it, blinded by the goddess's pampering and manipulations.

• After completing his mission, Kairos voluntarily gives his life, his heart being torn out by the goddess as a sacrifice. Yuridia takes back the crown as the sole goddess of the lands of the old faith and the goat is revived.

• The wedding takes place as a kind of private ceremony between the two, but ends up being somewhat one-sided since only Kairos marries Yuridia and not vice versa. This leads to him constantly asking her (maybe begging hehe) for the two to actually get married, but she just ends up postponing it or saying she'll think about it.

• Little by little Yuridia's affections turn into simple dominance, and the manipulation becomes more evident for Kairos who also little by little begins to distrust her. The goddess treats him as a kind of pretty trophy that she takes care of, although she doesn't really give him any more attention than necessary. [I think we could summarize their relationship as those people who have little purse dogs, all cute but who really take little care of them]

• After Yuridia's rise the former bishops try to steal their old crowns with the intention of making them work again, but the goat's job is to keep them away.

• As such Kairos is displaced, since he is no longer the leader of the cult and Yuridia does not need him by her side, so he dedicates himself to exploring. It is thanks to this that he stumbles upon a way to travel to the dimension of the lamb.

• Thanks to the latter, he runs into Yuridia's third son, who has ended up reincarnating in the wrong dimension. He decides to help him reunite with his brothers by bringing them to the dimension of the lamb where they will no longer suffer the mistreatment of their mother.

• Years go by and more things happen:

+ Kairos ends up falling out of love and begins to fear Yuridia's temperament, so being by her side at this point feels like being imprisoned.

+ He spends more time in the dimension of the lamb, things that the goddess does not like.

+ Kairos accidentally revives the lamb's sister (story for another post) and somehow ends up liking her, considering leaving his dimension.

+ The Lamb ends up giving him the final motivation to leave his dimension and finally get away from Yuridia.

• The day arrives and Kairos intends to leave Yuridia's cult, but she decides to prevent him by almost torturing him in order to stay since he belongs to her. However, by trying to kill her, the weight of the promises she made during her false imprisonment ends up killing her from within, allowing the goat to escape, thus condemning her old dimension to a world without gods (or so we believe).

• After recovering Kairos settles into the cult of the lamb where he can finally be at peace.

Aughhh here is the first loredump! It's a bit long, sorry!! I would have liked to add some doodles to make the reading easier, but I really have no ideas at the moment QwQ

[thetidesthatturn]

An Unlikely Encounter

Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Synopsis: it is your first time attending a Greta Van Fleet gig by yourself, what happens next was only ever a figment of your wildest imagination.

Warnings: smut, drinking, language

18+, MINORS DNI

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

3.5k word count

“Ok, the doors are opening up. Please enter the building in an orderly fashion!”

Your heart pounded against your ribcage. You were sure that if the room were quieter, the sheer magnitude of thumps would rattle off the walls into thundery echoes. The screaming around you transformed into white noise as you tried to steady yourself amongst the movement.

The doors opened.

Pushed and shoved from all angles, you managed to find yourself quickly enough to propel forwards into a sprint. You weren’t the fittest of people, occasionally enjoying a trip to the gym here and there, but that didn’t stop you from treating this moment like you were an Olympian going for the gold. This was most certainly not your first Greta Van Fleet concert, but it was your first time being at the front of the standing queue. As you hit the barricade and came to a stop, your breath hitched in your throat. Did I really make barricade? You thought as your eyes widened. Holy fucking shit.

The supporting acts seemed to fly by in some dream-like state, and you were still spiralling at the mere thought of being metres away from the band by the time the crowd erupted into a symphony of screeches and wails. As you came to, you could hear a classical overture playing sweetly. You recognised the melody as it morphed from one familiar tune to the next, growing louder to emphasise that the curtain would soon drop. You stared up in anticipation as the overture reached its climax and watched eagerly as four figures emerged. They immediately launched into “The Falling Sky” and Josh’s powerful vocals filled the arena, drawing each and every person in like a siren’s deadly song. You were so enchanted by this that you didn’t notice who had made their way across the stage and was standing directly in front of you.

Jake fucking Kiszka.

There he was, like a shining deity before you. Sweat glistening on his bare chest, his hair softly swishing with every movement, his calloused hands meticulously strumming each chord. Was this a dream? Was Jake Kiszka actually standing right in front of you? Before you could even realise what was happening, your eyes met. You felt a searing warmth spreading across your cheeks, a shy smile playing on your lips. He smiled back, then his eyes moved away as he turned to travel across the stage and meet his brother at the centre.

What the fuck.

In all the times you’d been to see the band, you had never ever made eye contact with one of the boys. Let alone Jake. Jake plagued your thoughts frequently and refused to leave your dreams. His beautiful face that seemed to be carved by literal angels lingered in every corner of your mind. You force yourself back to reality, silently reminding yourself to be present and enjoy the evening, and you do. The atmosphere is electric, you sway along with thousands of fans and scream out the lyrics until your throat stings. Towards the end of the show, as Josh makes his way along the barricade, you reach out and his hand brushes yours. As you make contact, he looks you up and down and winks before making his exit.

What was that about? You think to yourself curiously.

As the night draws to a close, and the band is finishing up their encore, you close your lips around your fingers and send a piercing wolf whistle towards the stage. Jake’s eyes clap onto yours, sending shockwaves through your entire body. He blows you a kiss and your vision slowly fades to darkness.

~

You’re snapped back into reality when the bitter cold air hits your lungs. Somehow, you’ve made it outside the venue, and you’re stood alone clutching your bag and phone. A text buzzes and lights up the screen, which makes you jump and then subsequently tut with annoyance at the reaction. It’s your best friend. She usually comes with you to Greta gigs, but she’s been held up with work recently, so it’s your first time attending alone.

How was it? So fucking gutted I couldn’t make it. She writes.

Amazing… incredible. And weird. You type back, your fingers moving at a snail-like pace from the icy temperature lingering in the air.

Weird? Explain. She questions.

Before you begin to respond, you take in your environment. It’s 11:30pm, and you’re stood outside, alone, in Wembley, in the freezing cold. It’s probably a good idea to head back to your hotel room and finish this conversation somewhere warmer and safer. As you make your way down the street, you spot a small bar with pretty fairy lights shimmering in the window.

I wouldn’t say no to a drink right now you think to yourself, as you stop outside and peer in. It looks inviting, and warm.

What’s the harm in stopping by for one drink? You muse.

As you open the door, you’re met with the comforting scent of aromatic bitters, mixed with aged oak, and fresh citrus. You breathe in, as you rub your hands together in search of warmth. The bar is quiet with a few people dotted about in booths, making conversation. Soft jazz plays in the background as you make your way over to the bar. You perch yourself up onto a stool and the bartender approaches you to ask what you’ll have.

“Sailor Jerry’s and coke, if you have it” you say with a polite smile. The bartender nods and begins making your drink. He brings it over and you tap your phone onto the card reader.

“Thanks” you say, bringing the glass to your lips and taking in a sip of the sweet, golden liquid, savouring the burn of the alcohol as it slips down your throat. Your attention is quickly diverted though, as you hear a commotion of male voices at the door. Their boisterous laughter cuts through the ambience of the bar like a knife, which is quickly calmed by a very loud shhhhh from one of the taller men in the group. You can make out four figures but decide to pull your attention back to your drink and think about replying to the text message from earlier. As you begin to start typing a response, you feel the stool next to you being pulled away.

For fuck sake, can I not be left alone in peace for one evening without some random bloke bothering me? you think to yourself, rolling your eyes, ignoring the presence next to you and focusing on your phone screen.

The stranger leans in, close enough for you to feel his breath tickle the strands of hair covering your ear.

“Just my luck that I’d find you here, you left pretty quickly after the show was over”.

You look up, a frown forming across your forehead as you begin to reject the man’s advances and tell him you aren’t interested. As your eyes find his, time seems to slow almost to a stop. He grins and cocks his head to the side, an eyebrow rising ever so slightly as he waits for your response.

There’s no way this is happening. This can’t be happening.

You become aware that you’re staring silently, with your mouth hanging open. It feels as though you can’t take in enough breath. You clear your throat, not able to speak but wanting to at least do something.

After what seems like a million years pass by, you finally muster up the word “Hi”, a shy smile playing on your lips.

“Do I get to know your name, pretty lady?” he asks. You feel your stomach flip.

Did Jake Kiszka just call you pretty lady? Ok, calm down, calm down.

“Y/N” you say, admittedly a lot more confidently than you actually feel. “And I believe you must be Jake”.

“A pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” Jake responds, holding his hand out to you. You place your hand in his, and he brings it up to his lips, softly kissing it. The contact sends electric bolts through your nerve endings and into your very core.

“The pleasure is all mine” you breathe.

“So, how come I haven’t seen your beautiful face at our shows before?” He asks, shooting you a playful grin.

“I’ve never made barricade before” you reply honestly.

“What took you so long?”

You pause, not really knowing what to respond. What did take you so long?

You sigh “I always came along with my best friend and my boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend. We never actually booked standing tickets, but I was going to be here by myself this time so I thought, fuck it, I may as well try to get as close as I can.”

He sits back in his chair, studying your face.

“Ex-boyfriend?” He asks after a few moments. You feel yourself blush, which he definitely notices.

“Yes, ex-boyfriend. I called it off recently” you hesitate, before adding “It just wasn’t working, so… yeah.”

“Lucky for me” he retorts, his eyes fixated on you, drinking you in. He looks over at the bartender who swiftly walks over to take his order.

“I’ll have whatever she’s having, and of course she’ll need another”.

You look down at your half-finished drink and knock it back, sliding the empty glass over to the bartender.

~

Thirty minutes later and a few drinks in, you and Jake are chatting away like old friends. You’re so surprised at how easy he is to talk to.

“Do you live round here?” He asks.

“Uhh, it’s complicated” you respond, looking down at your drink and stirring it absentmindedly, watching the ice slosh around in the amber liquid.

Jake raises his eyebrow.

“Technically no, I live further South. I’m staying at a hotel across the street from the arena tonight. But I’m moving in with my best friend who lives here in London, since my ex and I-” you trail off.

Jake puts his hand on your thigh, and you feel your breath catch in the back of your throat.

“Do you still live with him?”

“No, he moved out a few weeks back. But I need to get out, too many memories there.” You squeeze your eyes shut, wincing slightly.

Unconsciously, your hand meets Jake’s, still placed on your thigh. You feel a warmth creep between your legs.

Fuck, it’s been so long since I’ve felt like this. So long since I’ve been… touched.

You bite at your lip and try to shoo the feeling away, but Jake leans in and uses his free hand to brush your hair behind your ear and leans forward to whisper.

“Sounds to me like it’s his loss, pretty lady”.

A soft moan escapes your lips, it’s barely audible but Jake is so close to you that he most definitely heard it. Your eyes dart up to his, your faces so close now that there’s only inches between you. His grip on your thigh tightens as the warmth between your legs spreads.

~

The next thing you know, you’re in the back of an Uber, Jake’s hands in your hair and his lips crashing into yours. Jake is cool, crystal water and you have an insatiable thirst that only he can quench. Jake’s hand slides up under the skirt of your dress, his fingers barely grazing your throbbing clit. You stifle a moan, your hands exploring his bare chest. The Uber pulls up outside your hotel, and Jake whisks you out and in through the doors. You lead him up to the third floor and fumble around in your bag to find the key card. As you find it, Jake grabs hold of your wrists with one hand and lifts them above you, pinning you to the door. With his spare hand, he lifts your thigh up and around his waist and grinds into you, the outline of his erection pressing right where you need it to. You cry out with pleasure, which Jake evidently seems to like.

“You sound so fucking beautiful when you moan like that” he purrs, retrieving the key card from your restrained hand and pressing it against the reader. As he opens the door, he pulls you up onto him so that you’re straddling him with your legs wrapped around his waist. He brings you over to the bed and sets you down onto it.

“Do you want me, pretty lady?” He asks.

“Fuck… yes! Please!” You shout, the agonising need to be fucked coursing through your veins.

“How long has it been since someone took care of you, baby?”

“Too fucking long” you whine.

“So, you’re telling me this pretty baby hasn’t been fucked for a while? When’s the last time he made you cum?” He taunts, planting hot, breathless kisses along your throat.

“He never made me cum”.

Jake stops in his tracks, runs his hands up and into your hair, and guides your face to his.

“He never made you cum?”

“No, I can’t.” You say, embarrassment flooding across your face. “I can only make myself cum”.

Jake laughs and you frown at him, not understanding what’s remotely amusing about what you just said.

His eyes blacken with lust. “We’ll see about that” he croons, snaking his hand up your thigh, inching dangerously close to your throbbing, needy clit.

“This only works if you trust me, can you do that?” He asks. You nod, but he shakes his head.

“Words, pretty lady. I need you to use your words. I won’t go easy on you, but you need to tell me if things get too much. Ok”

“Ok” you breathe “do anything, please do what you want, I’m yours”.

“You’re gunna wish you didn’t say that” he laughs, and with that, he bunches the waistband of your thong in his fist and rips it off in one clean movement. His middle finger runs through your wet pussy, collecting your heat as he trails upwards, and uses it as lubrication to rub agonisingly pleasurable circles across your swollen bud.

“Oh, fuck yes” you cry, your hands grabbing at your breasts over the velvet of your dress.

Clearly affected by your outbursts, he slips two fingers inside of you and begins pumping them, curling them up to reach your sweet spot. Your hands find their way under his shirt, and your fingernails dig into the flesh on his back.

“Fuck! Please, don’t stop!” You beg, your eyes rolling back into your head.

“You don’t need to beg me, baby. I’ll take care of you” he soothes, whilst doing the opposite with his hand. He’s fucking you so hard with his fingers, his pace causing a pressure to build up in your lower stomach. You know that feeling, and it’s usually only felt when you are in your own company, with your trusty wand vibrator in hand, but this time you are teetering on the edge of an orgasm at the hands of Jake fucking Kiszka.

That thought alone, and the knowledge that he is currently inside you, is enough to tip you over the edge. Your mind plunges into bliss as you pulse around his fingers. No man has ever made you cum before.

You hazily begin drifting down from your orgasm, but instead of letting up, he begins to pump into you even faster, still curling his fingers up and into your bulging G spot.

“Please, stop!” you cry out, beginning to feel overstimulated.

“I told you to trust me” he snaps, restraining your wrists with his free hand.

You’re writhing under his touch, the pressure building and building within you. The feeling is unfamiliar, but you do trust him.

“Come on baby, cum for me again, I know you can” he coos.

His gentle coaching paired with the enormous pleasure jolting through your body sends you headfirst into a crashing wave of ecstasy. You cry out as you cum harder than you ever have in your life. You throw your head back as you begin to see stars. Jake pulls his fingers out of you and rubs them viciously against your clit as you continue to gush out onto the bed sheets.

“Fuck, fuck!!!” You shout, completely consumed and lost in your orgasm.

Jake lifts his hand to his mouth and licks you off his fingers, savouring the taste of you like it’s his last ever meal.

“I fucking love a squirter” he moans, climbing on top and pressing his hard cock into you.

“Tell me what you want baby” he asks.

“I want you to fuck me” you breathe.

“You ready for more, princess?” He taunts.

“Yes, fuck yes. Please, Jake.” You plead.

He hooks his arm underneath you and pulls you up, so you’re sat upright on top of him. He lifts your dress over your head and exposes your bare breasts, your nipples hard and pebbled. He takes one into his mouth and begins to suck on it gently, which causes you to whimper.

You pull his shirt off and begin unbuttoning his pants. He yanks them off and you delve into his boxers, sliding your hand down his shaft. He groans, a pearl of pre-cum forming at his tip. He runs his fingers through your folds to gather your slick and uses it to pump himself a few times with this before lifting you up and pulling you down onto him. His hard cock slips inside you with ease, and you both wail with immense pleasure. He begins fucking into you hard and fast, his hands finding your throat and choking you slightly, his teeth burrowing into your collarbone. Your mind goes hazy as you sink deeper and deeper into euphoria. The bed frame pounds against the wall as Jake drives his length into you, his free hand stroking across your clit.

“Jake, I’m gunna fucking cum” you sob, tears falling down your cheeks.

“Cum for me baby, cum so hard for me. I’m so close angel”. You can see he’s teetering on the edge himself, his face plastered with pleasure, but he wants you to get there first. His selflessness and desire for your own pleasure sends you tumbling into orgasm number three, that same rush of endorphins flooding through your veins as you clench hard around him and cover him in your arousal. He curses loudly as his cock twitches inside of you, and he’s cumming right alongside you. The symphony of curses, moans and groans light up the dark room with their beautiful song.

You find yourselves intertwined in a heap on the bed, panting and sweating, tangled up together as you float down from ecstasy. He cups your face in his hands and kisses your forehead gently, in a way that makes you feel like the most special person in the world.

“Wow” you whisper, your heart rate returning to a steadier pace.

“You are fucking phenomenal” he praises softly, stroking your hair.

You lay there for a while, in silence, letting Jake hold you.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course” Jake replies, caressing your cheek

“Why me?”

“Huh?” He looks at you, confused.

“Why me? You could have had any girl tonight, literally any girl. Why did you choose me?”

He sighs. “To be honest with you, I don’t do this a lot. I know that might seem hard to believe, given my profession…” he hesitates “I actually recently got out of a long-term relationship myself too, and the last thing I’ve wanted to do is date or sleep with someone else. But when I saw you in the crowd tonight, it sounds stupid, but I knew I had to get to know you. I knew you were special.”

You blush, not knowing what to say back.

“Is it weird if I tell you I’ve had a crush on you for like, the longest time” you giggle.

“Fuck no” he laughs, before adding “you’re only human” with a wink.

~

You stay up talking for hours, about where you grew up, how many siblings you have, what your life ambitions are and all the other deep shit that you share when getting to know someone. He laughs, you laugh. At around 3am, you realise the time.

“Shit, it’s so late!” You gasp.

Jake laughs and places his hand over yours. “I guess time flies when you’re having fun”.

“I suppose you need to leave; I have no idea what a rock star’s schedule is like but I’m sure it’s busy!” You say, unable to hide the sullen undertones in your voice.

“We actually have a week until the next show, so we were planning on hanging around here and doing some tourist shit. Josh really likes London, something about it being ‘good for the artist’s soul’, whatever the fuck that means…”

“Oh, that’s cool” You mumble, not really knowing what else to say. You want to ask him to stay, but you’ve only just met the guy.

“Do you mind if I crash with you tonight?” Jake asks, smiling softly at you. It’s as if he read your mind…

“No not at all!” Yeah, good going, make it super obvious how happy that made you, you sound like a giddy schoolgirl!

He chuckles, moving forward and enveloping you in a tight embrace.

“Good night, Y/N. I’m so glad I met you today” he breathes into your ear.

“Good night, Jake. I’m glad too.”

[sloshed-cinema]

The Boy and the Heron [君たちはどう生きるか] (2023)

It’s interesting to see what sort of story a master wants to tell over the course of their life. While it lacks the workmanlike nature of Kiki’s Delivery Service, the vast epic stakes of Princess Mononoke, or the spiritual abstraction of Spirited Away, The Boy and the Heron, despite its interrogative title in the original Japanese, seems to reach inward with its narrative thrust: How do I feel? This is an introspective journey even as Miyazaki retraces familiar steps to earlier films. Mahito is a schoolboy moving to the countryside after a bombing raid on Tokyo claims the life of his hospitalized mother in a fire. He is hollow and emotionally distant, quietly angry at Netsuko, his aunt and the woman his father has fallen in love with. But when she goes missing, Mahito follows her to rescue her and (according to the mischievous grey heron who plagues him at his new home) his own mother. This has the building blocks of a tale akin to something from CS Lewis, but quickly becomes far more absurdist and surreal (perhaps closer to one of Lewis’ later stories). As Mahito fights off parakeet soldiers and chases after the fiery maiden who rescued him before her own capture, we see him grappling with his mother’s loss and a drive to, beyond all reason, save her. Life and death are omnipresent in the world Mahito enters, and he wants to preserve all of the life he can. It abruptly takes a turn for the cosmic and existential, his Granduncle at the center of Italy, speaking to the fragility of existence and the balance of things. But is it better to preserve perfection in tenuous balance, or to accept the good with the bad? Looking back on it all, Miyazaki seems to signal a preference for radical acceptance.

Miyazaki’s films have a really interesting way of animating fluid. When Mahito strikes himself on the temple with a stone after a tussle at school, blood flows in such torrents as to rival a wound inflicted by Ashitaka in Princess Mononoke. It is dramatic and extreme, underlining the rage that he is expressing in this self-destructive act. Later, when he drinks water from a tap in the other-world, it has such a viscosity as to emphasize his thirst, showing just how refreshing and essential a good, cold drink is at the end of a long day.

Joe Hisaishi delivers an elegant and simple score for this film, heavy on piano. Not quite pointillistic in its sensibilities, it refrains from bold statements. And yet it’s all the more powerful for it. The four opening chords of each reprise of the “Ask Me Why” queue are enough to shatter my soul.

THE RULES

SIP

Someone says 'Mahito'.

The heron makes weird goblin noises.

Bird shit. Why is there so much bird shit?

The heron attempts to repair his beak.

BIG DRINK

The Granduncle is referenced.

Hisaishi's score jerks some tears outta the ol' ducts.

Certified Ghibli Food Moment.

[adapting-the-mystic-path]

One of the first forms of magic many of us ever encounters in life is music. While it is not what we traditionally think of when we hear the word magic - candles, cauldrons or witches on broomsticks - music is an undeniable force. It has the power of influencing emotions and states of mind, inspiring painters, poets, writers, musicians, actors, etc. People have been inspired by music to live authentically in fashion, gender identity, sexuality, nonconformity. It can transport us into different worlds where love is all we dream of or one where we mourn a loss so deeply only the music can express our pain. Particular tempos and rhythms have the ability of inducing mesmerizing trancelike states.

I have noticed the power of music in many different situations over the course my life. Cheerful Disney and animated films or cartoons’ melodies color happy carefree moments of the past while musical productions of shows like West Side Story, Phantom of the Opera, and Wicked evoked emotions I had no words for or experience with and yet became part of my being. Funerals were marked by the solemn ceremony and the cathartic tears falling in a church as the gathering sang hymns I didn’t know yet tugged at my heart.

In recent years I’ve dabbled in a few different digital hobbies. One of the adventures I explored was DJing for a club in the virtual reality platform called SecondLife. I did not go so far as learning how to alter speed, pitch, or other fancy manipulations of music. But I did learn there is an art to the arrangement of song order. Much like a radio DJ, I would select tracks to play and specify the order in the software I used and occasionally did short voiceovers or commercial breaks to promote the club or the DJ playing after me. Some of my favorite sets - usually two hour sessions of music - were when nothing was fully prepared. I selected a few songs and either added or rearranged song order by feeling the vibe of my audience. This was a magic combination.

About a year later I started DJing at an occult/pagan/witchy hangout for full moon gatherings. This new path took me on quite a deep dive into music I had never explored before as i looked for songs to play that struck a particular chord. Popular choices were from SKALD, Heilung, and Kerli. Other modern style bands were included as long as there was an undercurrent of spiritual resonance, empowerment, or depth of emotion and feeling. In This Moment has a fantastic album which is heavily spiritually focused. Born This Way by Lady Gaga was also extremely appropriate as an empowering anthem to live authentically. Over time I grew my music collection and worked hard to hone my skills for smooth transitions. Often I would be playing songs that made guests remember another that they sometimes requested so I would move it into the queue. Building the energy together while dancing virtually and connecting through the rhythm of the drums or the vocals created such a high that is hard to replicate.

A morning ritual I began a couple years ago is creating a short playlist to listen to while I drink my morning coffee. Inspired by a friend who has a similar concept for a playlist, I have been particularly selective about which tracks are in the playlist. They must meet a few pieces of criteria but the most important is that listening to them raises my vibrations. My mental energy and confidence level should rise with each song in the list. “Good Morning” by Qveen Herby is the first track that includes a short breathing meditation which often helps me center and ground regardless of current events.

The point of this post? If you are looking to for a place to start your practice, dip your toes into the mystical realm, or simply ground, music is a wonderful place to begin. Experiment with different songs to reflect on the emotions they evoke. This exercise is extremely helpful for discovering the music you may wish to listen to while doing spellwork. Can you create the emotions you desire by being selective of what you are listening to? Give it a try.

[mycoopblog]

Why Do People Miss Their Flights? Could Never Be Me!

We've all heard the horror stories of travelers missing their flights, and sometimes we can't help but wonder, "How could anyone let that happen?" As a Passenger Service Ambassador at Air Transat, I witness various scenarios daily, but recently, one particular incident struck a chord. Let me share the tale of a young lady who missed her flight this week, leaving us with valuable lessons on the importance of timely travel preparations.

It was a bustling evening at the departure counter, with passengers eagerly checking in for their flights. Among them was Ada, a bright and vivacious young, black lady, who was catching her flight to Montreal. As she approached the counter, there was a glimmer of worry in her eyes. Ada explained that unforeseen traffic had delayed her arrival at the airport, and despite her best efforts, she had missed her flight.

I especially empathized with her situation, as she was from the same country as me. However, as much as we wished we could help, the reality was that the plane had already begun its departure procedures by the time Ada arrived.

Ada was understandably pained, and we assured her that missing a flight can happen to anyone. Yet, her experience serves as a powerful reminder for all travelers to come prepared and avoid the heartache of missed flights. So, let's delve into the reasons why people may miss their flights and explore how we can ensure it "could never be me!"

One common reason for missed flights is arriving at the airport too late. Unforeseen events like traffic, road closures, or transportation delays can wreak havoc on your travel plans. The key to avoiding this predicament is to plan for unexpected obstacles by leaving for the airport well in advance. Aim to arrive at least two to three hours before your scheduled departure time, especially for international flights.

Another factor is relying solely on checking in at the airport counter. Embrace the convenience of online check-in, available 24 hours before your flight. Online check-in not only saves you time but also allows you to secure your preferred seat and avoid long queues at the airport. Remember to print your boarding pass or save it on your mobile device for easy access.

Additionally, some travelers underestimate the time needed to navigate airport processes, such as security screening and finding the right gate. Always account for these steps and give yourself enough buffer time between arriving at the airport and boarding your flight.

As we reflect on Ada's unfortunate experience, let's use it as a lesson to prioritize punctuality and preparedness when embarking on our own journeys.

[ladybuvelle]

Mmm, bathroom chic!

[runawaymun]

I posted 1,740 times in 2022

That's 999 more posts than 2021!

466 posts created (27%)

1,274 posts reblogged (73%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@blueberryrock

@arofili

@jaz-the-bard

@makalaure-kanafinwe

I tagged 1,581 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#elrond - 297 posts

#out of uniform - 229 posts

#(humor tag) - 149 posts

#celebrían - 114 posts

#boil em mash em stick em in a queue - 113 posts

#lotr - 92 posts

#my art - 87 posts

#maedhros - 71 posts

#the silmarillion - 67 posts

#celrond - 67 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i don't necessary *sexually* ship them because i do read frodo as being very ace or demi but i can totally understand romantically shipping

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

idk you guys when it gets late my brain starts making the saddest possible inferences but like 

I’m just thinking about Arwen saying “I’d rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone” and how she’s watched her father carry six thousand years of grief for all the people he’s seen come and go. Esp. Elros & Celebrían.

idk i’m tired & not wording things well and this is a sign i need to go to bed but I’m currently Very Emo about this. 

409 notes - Posted May 19, 2022

#4

Sometimes I think about how not all the trauma the Sons of Fëanor have is immediately obvious or visible as trauma they wear on their bodies.

After Angband Maedhros’ brothers keep finding caches of food hidden away in odd places. They promise that there’s plenty. That there will always be plenty. He says “I know, I know” but can’t make himself stop, because when you’re held captive by a minor god food is nothing more than a cute bargaining chip. Maedhros can’t stand on top of towers or climb hills or even trees anymore. It’s not that he’s scared because he’s Maedhros Fëanorion and isn’t afraid of anything— but the second he’s too high up, he feels sick to his stomach.

Maglor still sings. Everyone always compliments his voice. It’s so powerful, ricocheting off mountainsides, loud as thunder. It can stop a blade it it’s tracks. Make a legion of orcs clutch their bleeding ears and scream. But he can’t sing ballads anymore, or lullabies the way he used to. He hates it. He hates it. Each note that’s fashioned to hurt someone else feels like it will rip him in two. Sometimes he wishes he could rip out his own vocal chords just to be free of the responsibility of such Music, from the expectations of how he’ll use it in battle. He just wants to sing like he used to.

Celegorm never replaces Huan. He knows— he knows it’s his fault that he lost him. He lies awake at night and cries into his pillow, wishing it was Huan. Wishing he could bury his hand in his thick fur and feel his steady heartbeat again— because no matter how it ended a childhood pet is a childhood pet, and they will always take a piece of you when they go.

Caranthir talks less and less as the years go on. His brothers used to ask him for advice in Valinor, but a levelheaded temperament isn’t much use in times like these. He withdraws and he withdraws and he withdraws, until he’s so lonely it wears a hole in his chest.

Curufin covers his mirrors. He hates the sound of his name. Loves and hates the forge until he’s sick at heart and wants to throw himself into his own fire. The boundary lines, for him, had always been laid in the shape of his father, and without him he no longer knows who he is. He is only a shadow of him. A reminder of what they’ve lost. And he will never, ever, ever live up to his memory.

Amrod won’t light a fire in his bedroom no matter how cold or dark it gets. He can’t sleep in a room alone. Can’t be left alone for more than a few moments before his mind twists into panic— of “please, please, I’m right here, don’t forget me, don’t leave me—“

Likewise, Amras never lets Amrod out of his sight. The panicked “where’s Amrod?” happens on a biweekly basis. His brothers assure him that Amrod is fine. But their eyes betray their own worry. None of them have forgotten the ships.

551 notes - Posted March 23, 2022

#3

Also a concept: Maedhros riding a moose because if you’re that tall and armored you’re heavy as shit.

660 notes - Posted July 25, 2022

#2

Things that are really fucking me up today

Just how close in age Elrond and Elwing are, by the Elf standards. It must be so strange when they finally meet, to look at each other and realize the difference between them is only a little over thirty years.

Like, in comparison Finwe was a thousand years older than Finfarin, and Elrond was already roughly 4000 years old when he had Arwen.

So idk it just must have been so strange for them. A mere thirty years is such a wildly negligible amount of time. They’re basically peers when they first meet.

721 notes - Posted January 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Elrond and Celebrían invented true love, actually. 

832 notes - Posted September 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ravenclawcumlaude]

Waiting in the wings, Regulus watches the two guitarists indulge in several kinks live on stage. He bounces on the balls of his feet, waiting for his queue to enter, allowing them their pantomimed foreplay and exhibition. Their solos end and he hears the crowd roaring, sufficiently warmed up. When he sees them begin to make out, he knows too well if he doesn’t break them apart they will absolutely start fucking right there on stage.

Rolling his eyes, he waves his wand to remove the necklace chains Pandora made for them. She probably didn’t expect them to be used quite like this. She was only trying to resolve the vision she’d had of a dropped pick and wanted to make sure the show went smoothly. Regulus grabbed his wand and cast an amplifying charm on his voice in preparation.

As if right on queue, he runs on stage and pushes through the middle of the embracing guitarists, physically separating them. The crowd is raucous and lively and perfect. The energy they give him lets him know this will be a good show.

Spotlight on Regulus, the rest of the stage dims as his bandmates take their spots for the first song of the set. The drummer counts them in and the first sound from Regulus’ mouth is a belted note over power chords and cymbal crashes. The crowd responds and its electric. No magic could replace the way his fans make him feel right now.

The lights of the venue flash on and off, giving Regulus brief glances of the crowd. A shine catches his eyes. Someone’s spectacles are reflecting the light back to him. In the front row, a man with messy dark hair, round-framed glasses, and amber skin is looking at him with elation and adoration.

This look isn’t new for Regulus. That’s the look all his fans wear. As if they’re looking up at a leather-clad god and loving everything they see. This fan…this man, however, had the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. He would jump during the chorus, arms extending over his head, and his crop top would lift up, revealing his abdomen. Regulus couldn’t help but get distracted by abs, navel, and a dark happy trail.

He’d never been interested in groupies before but he might push his luck just this once.

Band Au where Barty and Evans have each other’s first plectrum around there neck (Pandora put them on a necklace) and at the beginning of each concert they both kiss it and the fans goes crazy, and I’m going crazy too honestly

[bubblesandgutz]

Every Record I Own - Day 748: Invultation Unconquerable Death

This is another album highlight of 2021.

I spent most of yesterday spinning Promises on repeat, but once the sun set, I switched over to Unconquerable Death. After a whole day of ethereal lightness, I needed hammering darkness. 

Invultation play that particular brand of war metal that mines all the best aspects of old school black metal (raw recordings, bare bones presentation, rabid energy), death metal (guttural vocals, low-end riffage), and d-beat punk (driving power chord riffs, rock flourishes). The album is 35 minutes of pulverizing power---not a second feels wasted or unnecessary.

Besides the vibe contrast with Promises, there’s a cerebral contrast too. Unconquerable Death isn’t an intellectual exercise. Much like the Stress Angel album I posted a few days ago, this is purely visceral music. And it seems that these last few years when I’ve wanted to listen to something that provides unadulterated lizard-brain satisfaction, brutal metal has been the go-to.

I’ve still got quite a few records left in my 2021 album highlight queue and I’m doing my best to spread out the “I liked this one because of the riffs” picks, but what can I say... the riffs have been very satisfying lately. And as I’ve been digging deeper into more “high-brow” music, I’ve instinctively paired it with increasingly troglodyte-level metal. 

[lovely-menza]

Thank you my lovelies @princessleiaqueen and @ritchieblackless 💜💗💖 for tagging me in this interesting tag

1. Why did you choose your url?

As I always say - I think Nick Menza is lovely

2. Any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

I used to be a believer of the unique blog to throw all the shit I liked in there, but this year I had to make an exception for the good of the foo fighters community :') damn

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

Six or seven years I think

4. Do you have a queue tag?

Yeah but I rarely have used it since I don't see it reaaally necessary to use, why would you mind if I'm away?

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

Youtubers, but did that in the verge of getting into Guns n' Roses

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

I... I had a HEAVY Metallica hyperfixation last year as a throwback of my pre teens (and the concert) + I really always loved Jason

7. Why did you choose your header?

It's a very good picture that I just think fits perfectly as a header - the cream passes you a ciggie as you get into the blog c:

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

I actually don't even know. It may be The Who's audio of Sally Simpson take 1!

9. How many mutuals do you have?

A few that I always miss to interact with when I feel down

10. How many followers do you have?

930, don't know who are these people

11. How many people do you follow?

2k and more, lots of inactive people that I can't manage to unfollow because I don't even take the time to

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

I am shitpost myself Yes

13. How often do you use tumblr each day?

I often first see the blogs that I have notifs on, clear all the notifications and then see the dash a bit, and so on the rest of the day if I'm not doing anything else [hotel california chords in the distance]

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

No, and I prefer not to because I suck at arguing with people I don't personally know so it would be a hard kick in the ass from dear mr. anxiety

15. How do you feel about "you need to reblog this" posts?

I don't mind them, but I do mind the subconscious power the internet has as everyone will and can question our life's morality with simple tasks with only two options while they destroy our basic construction of our independent thinking and sense of doubt :(

16. Do you like tag games?

YEAH except when I end up writing shit like that^

17. Do you like ask games?

YEAH except that if I answer very late or I end up writing my testament in it I get anxious, but it's good for interacting with them mutuals

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

[tumblr] is very much like marx's wet dream of equality in society - therefore no one is and will ever be famous

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Nope, all my love for them is platonic and sincere :)

20. Tags

I don't know how many people already did this so forgive me if I'm tagging you again :))) @jeffament, @crampdown, @britishsixtiesbeat, @mewstashio, @saintdilemma, @breadfan, @appelscruff, @gingerbaker, @spinettas, @godsavetherocknrolll, @sastrugie, @chrysochromulina & @mothmanghost

[wiypt-writes]

Leave No One Behind

Ch2- The Red Sea Diving Resort: Part 1 Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: Ari and his team arrive at their Resort and begin making plans for the first mission. Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Allusions to death and serious injury.

Episode Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

 “What the fuck is he wearing Cracker?” Max asked Hannah as he nodded over her shoulder. Frowning, she turned to see Ari had walked in, briefcase in hand, dressed in a dark brown velvet suit and a white and gold striped shirt with a large, open necked collar.

Hannah snorted “He looks like John Travolta.”

“Walking like him too…” Sammy mumbled.

“Night fever, night fever…we know how to do it…” Jake sang softly, and the rest of the group all started to chuckle, hastily turning away as Ari walked towards the table and dropped the briefcase down on it.

Ari greeted Ethan with a nod of his head and looked around the room. His team was already gathered standing around the oval metal table, chatting idly.

Max and Jake were sniggering about something and Ari could clearly see Sammy was trying to keep a straight face, hands in his trousers pockets and looking at his feet while bouncing on them. Did he want to know? Probably not.

And then he noticed Hannah. She was chatting with Rachel who was admiring the brown leather knee high boots she was wearing. Ari heard Rachel comment something about her loving chunky heels as Hannah twisted her left foot so that Rachel could have a better look at the boots.

But Ari wasn’t interested in the boots, well, ok he was, but his gaze then travelled upwards, following her black tights clad legs and thighs, until his eyes mid-thigh met the hem of the skirt of her maroon pleated chord pinafore. Luckily for him, when his eyes continued past up her waist and the long sleeved polka dot blouse she was wearing, and he could take in the delicate features of her face, she was still engaged in some sort of fashion conversation with Rachel.

She was stunning, but what was new there? He had to admit to himself he had felt his chest fill with warmth when he had been running through the fake passports Ethan had given him the previous evening. He had opened hers first, sitting on his bed in the privacy of his hotel room, tumbler of Scotch in hand. His eyes scanning Hannah's passport photo over and over again.  Those big round blue eyes looking directly at him. 

Firefly, he had muttered running his thumb over the photo before gulping his drink.

Thus, Ari knew which would be the one on top at the deck of passports he was now pulling from his briefcase. He was going over the questions he would be asking each one of them in his head when he heard Max asking him something.

“You got chills Ari?”

“What?” Ari frowned, his head turning to Max and in the corner of his eye he noticed that Hannah turned to watch, biting her lip as behind her Sammy laughed and hastily started coughing to cover it up.

“Are they multiplying?” Jake chipped in.

“Are you losing control?” Max continued

“Coz the power, you’re supplying…it’s electrifying!” the two men sang together as Ari looked at the pair of them rolling his eyes, a smirk playing on his face. Behind him Ethan groaned.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up…” Ari’s mouth curled into a crooked smile. “I’m Guy Thomas…he wears this shit…its fashion. And besides, Max, you’ve no room to talk!”

Hannah snorted and turned to look at Max, taking his outfit in in more detail. Because they were all in Zurich at the NATCOR HQ under the guise of a simple Mossad business meeting, Ari had instructed the team to come dressed as they felt their Alter Egos would dress for work. Sammy and Jake were both dressed in suits and ties, Max was in a suit with an open collar pinstriped shirt.

“He has a point…” Hannah conceded “You’re like the Kenickie to his Danny…”

“Grease was based in the 50s.” Max narrowed his eyes at her.

“Yeah, which is when that shirt was in fashion.” Jake said, slapping Max on the shoulder. Hannah and Ari snorted before they were cut off by an angry noise from behind them.

“Save the outfit discussions for later.” Ethan snapped “You lot are going to get yourselves killed for fucks sake.”

“Ethan, Ethan…” Ari turned to him, his voice soothing “Just, calm down…we’ve not even started the meeting yet.”

“Exactly, and we’re already behind schedule so if you don’t mind…” He nodded his head in the direction of the table and everyone, suitably chastised, took a seat.

Ethan and Ari ran the group through the plans regarding the next few months and how the deployment was going to work. They were to fly out on the 4th January, from Zurich, where Ari and Rachel would meet with the Sudanese Government and get the paper work and everything signed for the lease on the diving resort. Whilst they were there Max, Hannah, Jake and Sammy were to pair off and head to 2 different places to pick up 2 different cars which would be ready and waiting with supplies from 2 in country contacts. Once the explanations were finished, Ari then picked up the false passports.

“So you’ve all had enough time to read over your covers.” Ari said, flipping through the pile of passports, selecting one “Remember, the point of being undercover is you keep it simple. So you should have memorised the basics, your name, date of birth, parents names, address, hometown that type of thing. Everything else you can make up on the spot but nothing too elaborate. Don’t take it too far from the actual truth because whatever you tell one person you need to remember to tell another.”

He paused and cleared his throat. “Ok, let’s see how you fare under questioning.” he looked at Hannah “Firefly, you first… Name?”

“Rosa-Maria Gomez” Hannah repeated back, without so much as batting an eyelid, her Spanish accent flawless.

“Where are you from?”

“Valencia.”

“What did you do?”

“Bar manager at a local hotel.”

“Which hotel?”

“Sidi Saler”

“How long for?”

“Just over 10 years. Travelled for a year or so after University, settled back home when I was 19. Never looked back.”

There wasn’t so much as a hint of hesitation when she spoke. Ari smiled at her and tossed the fake passport down in front of her. “Good job.”  he said and with a faint smile she reached for the passport.

Next he put Rachel through her paces, picking her up on the slight hesitation she had over her address and then Jake’s mistake over his elementary school name. He then turned to Sammy.

“Sammy…name. Where are you from? “

“I'm Liam Anderson. Australia.” Sammy said, picking up his passport

“First girlfriend.”  

“Mary”

“Tell me about her.” Ari said, stopping at the head of the table.

“Mary Rose. Took my virginity and broke my heart.”

At that, Ari saw Hannah, who was sat at the far end of the table next to Sammy shift slightly. Despite himself he glanced at her and she caught his eye before she looked down at the table. Ari turned back to Sammy who was still speaking.

“We met at the University of Queensland in Brisbane.  I was 19. Later died in a car accident.”

“It's good.  Good work, Sammy.” Ari turned to Max “You're up.”

There was a pause as Max stared straight ahead before he glanced at the passport.

“I still think this is a stupid name for someone from Malta.” Max protested “Why Malta?”

Rachel gave a little chuckle as Ari looked at him, rolling his eyes as his hands fell to his hips.

“Max, when you learn a second language, that's where you can be from. Till then you're from Malta. No one knows what people from Malta speak.”

“What do people speak in Malta?”  Rachel asked.

“Maltese” Hannah supplied and sniggers rang round the table.

“See, no one knows, that's the point.” Ari said with a smile before he looked pointedly at Max “Name”

“Hello, everybody, my name's Irving Wilmington.” Max said in a ridiculously, fake European accent which made everyone start to laugh “And I'm from Malta-“

“You think this is funny?” Ethan’s angry voice cut across the laughter and everyone looked up at the man as he strode around the table. “Just for the record, there's not one person in this group that I would have chosen for this type of mission. You're all too reckless.” Hannah looked at Max who raised his eyebrows as if to say, he has a point…which to be fair, he kinda did.

“I've gone against every instinct I know.” Ethan continued as Ari looked down at the floor “broken every risk management rule I believe in, including sending two women to a Muslim country.” Ethan said, looking directly at Hannah then Rachel “So let's be very clear.  This mission has no backup.  There's no exfil plan for you.  You're going in without guns, or any other weapon.  If this goes wrong, you'll all be hanging from cranes in Khartoum.”

With that Ethan left the room and there was a moment of silence.

“Can’t wait…” Jake said, leaning back in his chair.

*****

Of course, nothing every runs completely smoothly. Jake was stopped by the Sudanese Immigration, simply to be released once he had paid the ‘bribe’ the officials wanted. Ari spotted him joining the others in the queue for cabs as he and Rachel departed in the car to the Tourism Board.

Then, they met with their contact in the Sudanese Government, Colonel Madibbo and embarked on the anticipated haggling over the price. The man looked Ari in the face and told him that the lease was five hundred thousand, to which Ari replied simply that they had agreed Two-Fifty. After a little bit of negotiation, Ari moved up to three-fifty, informing the Colonel it was their best offer, but then loaded told the man that could write it down as two-fifty and then take the rest and do something beneficial for the people of Sudan.

“You may not speak Arabic, Mr. Thomas. But you do speak the local language.” Madibbo laughed, and Ari simply glanced at Rachel before smiling back, fully understanding that the “local language” meant he’d given the man a bung, and that the extra hundred thou was going straight into the  Colonel’s own back pocket.

Bent bastard.

A few hours later everything was sorted, they’d been given everything they needed and Ari and Rachel walked out of the building, climbed in the arranged car and were dropped off on the main high-street where they headed to the inconspicuous Café that had been allocated as a meeting spot. Remaining in character, Ari and Rachel, or Guy and Angela, greeted their team loudly, as if it was the first time they had seen each other for a while, and then they all settled down at a table outside on the packed market square, and Ari briefed them as if he was briefing resort staff. They all listened, picked up on his cues and after a quick coffee each they all stood up to leave.

As they were leaving the Café, Max tossed one of the jeep’s keys at Ari, who caught them with a swift movement of his hand.  Once they reached the spot where the vehicles were parked Ari opened the driver's door to one of them and turned to see his team had stopped and were looking at the trucks as if deciding who was going to ride in each one of the trucks.

"Ride with me?" Max turned to ask Hannah waving the other set of keys in the air.

"Yup. I call shotgun!" she said as a reply as she walked round to open the passenger side door.

"Right, I'll be on the back seat." Jake quipped as she pulled the seat forward and gestured for him to get in the back.

Ari shook his head, hands on his hips, as he looked at Sam and Rachel through his shades before opening the back door of their jeep for Sam to jump in, tossing his backpack on the floor of the car as Rachel went to the side of the passenger seat.

"Guess the three musketeers have decided for all of us." Ari said as he jumped up in the truck, a trace of bitterness in his voice which wasn't undetected by Sammy.

"Oh my. The great Ari Levinson scorned by part of his team." Sam said, amused and Rachel chuckled.

"You're hilarious Sammy." Ari deadpanned as he fixed the rear view mirror for the third time in the last couple of minutes before he set off.

"Maybe you should keep an eye on Jake." he spoke again a minute later, turning to look at Sam as if trying to make sure he understood what he was implying. Sam examined him for a few moments before speaking

"Yeah, maybe. And maybe you should keep an eye on the road and stop looking through the mirror." Sam deadpanned turning his head slowly to the side window.

***** A few hours later, they had a quick pit stop to stretch legs and changed drivers. Ari was keen to make as good time as possible so it was only for a few moments, Max taking a well needed pee at the side of the truck, groaning in relief. Hannah shook her head, before she climbed in the back of the jeep. They set off again, and their gentle chatter struck up once more.

"So..." Jake said, turning to glance over his shoulder at Hannah, one eye sort of remaining on the road. "I've been dying to ask. Your nicknames..." "What about them?" She asked, turning her head to face him from where she had been looking out of the window. "Why does Ari call you Firefly when the rest of the team seems to call you Cracker?"

Max snorted and looked at Hannah who was grinning. "Ok so the cracker thing came from a mission." She said, thinking fondly back "it was the first one we all actually ran together...me, Max, Sammy, Ari...Andy..." she trailed off for a moment before she continued "we were sat round the fire one night and Andy had a pack of those little savoury fish cracker things. We started playing a game as to how many each of us could fit in our mouths. Max insisted he would win...but who in fact did win Maxwell?" "You..." Max sighed "by 2 crackers" "So Andy started calling me crackers which became cracker and it stuck..." she shrugged. "Well, with everyone but Ari that is..." "Yeah, so explain the Firefly thing..." Jake pushed. "The first time I met Ari was when he came over one evening with Sammy. It was just before Sammy moved out." Hannah said "I was 17 and we were sat out in the garden at the back. It wasn't a huge garden, communal like, shared with 3 other houses but I loved it because there was a colony of lightning bugs, or fireflies that frequented it. It was a few months later Sammy was being an ass-hat about something and I flipped out at him and threw a mug at his head. It missed and smashed against the wall but Ari found it hilarious. Told I was just like those little fireflies I admired so much. Such an ordinary, unassuming thing on the outside with a hell of a surprise packed away underneath..." Jake paused and then started laughing "Now that's a back handed compliment if ever I did hear one." Hannah grinned "I know. When I asked him what he meant by ordinary you should have seen his face. He was all flustered and stammering and worried he'd offended me. Lasted all of 2 minutes until I cracked up laughing and told him I understood." "Well, fireflies are pretty awesome..." Jake smiled "A symbol of light in the dark, hope, warmth" "Yup, all things Ari said to me when he was back pedalling over the whole ordinary thing" Hannah smiled with a shrug "either way, it stuck."

My little firefly…

“Tell him what you call Ari.” Max said and Hannah snorted.

“El Lobo hambriento” She replied after a moment’s pause “Or Lobo for short.”

“And that means…” Jake looked at her again for a second.

“Spanish for the hungry wolf…” Hannah said “It came from when he used to eat my Mama out of house and home whenever he came round with Sammy. And over time it got shortened to Lobo…just wolf…”

Jake laughed “Well, he is kinda hairy…but you know, that should be my nickname given that I am actually a Wolf.”

“By name…” Max teased “You look like more of a poodle.”

Hannah laughed and leaned forward, so that her head poked between the front to seats in the car “You can be Loop.” “Loop?” Jake frowned.

“Short for Lupin…Latin for Wolf, or there or thereabouts anyway. Or it could just mean you’re a total fruit loop, take your pick…”

Jake gave a huge guffaw of laughter and looked at her “Does that make you Little Red Riding Hood?”

Hannah snorted as Max shook his head, looking out at the window “That’s the shittest chat up line I’ve ever heard” he spoke, turning back to Jake.

“Can’t blame a man for trying” Jake winked.

After a total of six hours and a couple more stops to stretch and freshen up, if that was even possible in the middle of the desert, they arrived in the resort. But they couldn't properly see it until they got out of the trucks, the windows being partly covered by dust as they had taken shortcuts over sand dunes to save quite a few hours more off the travel time should they have opted to use the main roads. 

When they finally got out of the car they took some clumsy steps on the sand after being into the confined space of car for that many hours. Jake lit a cigarette and as he looked at Ari he couldn't help but make a howling noise to Hannah who started laughing immediately. As if on cue, Max started howling too and the three of them were caught in a fit of hysteric laughter,  Max bending his body for balance and Hannah leaning on Jake's arm.

Ari, Sam and Rachel stood there watching the three of them, dumbfounded. Ari shared a glance with Sam before he shot his sister a look and she pulled herself together still trying holding back laughter. Ari sighed before he took a few more steps towards the main entrance of the resort and the rest of the team followed suit.

They all stopped still, looking at the ram-shackled building in front of them, the words Red Sea Diving Resort were descripted in fading red paint above the large, archway shaped door. Hannah removed her shades, looking at it, and she let out a loud breath from where she stood at the end of the line they seemed to have formed, next to Max.

“It sure doesn't look like the brochure.”  she said, and everyone turned to look at her, Max giving a small huff of laughter. After a second or so, Ari moved to the trucks to retrieve their luggage and the rest of them followed suit before they headed towards the entrance. Ari wrestled with the wooden trellised screen doors before he gave one a harsh push and it fell forward off its hinges, crashing to the floor sending up a cloud of dust and sand. He turned to look at them all, giving a shrug before he headed inside. They all followed and Hannah cast her eyes around as they hit the main room. All the window screens were shut, leaving it quite dark despite the bright late afternoon sunshine outside. Chairs and tables were piled haphazardly around the edges of the main room of the resort, various other pieces of furniture dotted around.

“It needs a little TLC.” Ari said, turning to the team.

“Nice.” Rachel chuckled.  

“Oh, yeah?” Sammy snorted, pushing the shaded lenses on his glasses up as he looked around with a laugh. “What a dump.”

Hannah watched as Jake moved to open one of the sets of doors which led out onto the beach and instantly the place was flooded with light. She glanced at Max who smiled and they followed him out onto the beach.

“This is paradise!” Jake sighed. Max looked at him, incredulously, but Hannah had to admit, outside it was beautiful. A secluded cove of The Red Sea right was in front of them, the sun bouncing off the blue water, waves softly lapping at the shore.

Max pushed his glasses back up his nose and headed away to his right, Hannah following as they walked round the side of the resort and up a small boardwalk which led to a small pier of sorts.

“Well, hello, gorgeous…” she heard Max say. Hannah turned to see him examining a spear gun which was leaned up against the glass windows in front of him. She rolled her eyes.

“Your obsession with sniping weapons is worrying.” she arched an eyebrow.

He turned to face her with a grin before he tucked his shades into his shirt and picked up the fishing spear, holding it like a gun, checking down the sight target. The two of them stepped further round and Hannah frowned as Max stopped under a wooden shelter of sorts and the pair of them spotted the large, silver fish hanging from the structure. It had been beheaded, the head laying on a grill, and Max turned to look at her.

“This fish is fresh.” he frowned.

“Don’t eat it…” Hannah said instantly, teasing him about his obsession with food.

“Don’t eat…it’s fucking raw.” he rolled his eyes at her.

“Never had sushi?” she shot back.

“Don’t care for it much…” he mused before they both exchanged a glance, the seriousness of the fact that the fish, was indeed newly caught sinking in as Max turned to call back to the resort.

“Hey, yo, this fish is fresh!”

Ari who had been walking along the shore, heard Max’s call, along with Rachel’s which informed everyone she had found a newspaper from this week .He stopped and glanced back into the resort before he opened the door into one of the bedroom huts. Taking a glance round he threw open the wooden window screens, turning his face away as the sand and dust from outside blew into his face. It was then a familiar smell hit his nose and he glanced down to his left and saw that there were cigarette butts in an ashtray. One was still smoking slightly.

And then, someone jumped up from behind a pile of furniture in the corner of the room and shot out of the door. Ari turned and sprinted after him, yelling for him to stop and calling to the team. They all joined him, sprinting around the corner where Ari stopped at the sight of a group of what they could only assume were locals.

“Hello.  My name...” Ari began, before he whipped off his sunglasses, figuring they might trust him more if they could see him eye to eye “My name's Guy Thomas.  I'm the new owner of this hotel.”

The locals didn’t speak, and Hannah noticed that the woman at the front, adorned in bright yellow local dress was glancing at Max nervously.

“Max, lower that thing…” she said softly, as he had the spear gun raised.

Ari turned to face him and nodded, gesturing with his hands “Come on.”  

“Sorry.” Max said gently, as he slowly lowered his weapon.

“Abu Hamid.” the man at the front of the group spoke to them.

“Hello.” Ari greeted him kindly.

“What the hell's going on?” Sammy spoke gently through his smile.  

“I think we just met the local staff.” Ari said softly, looking round at everyone.

Part 2

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Leave No One Behind Ch2: The Red Sea Diving Resort

Part 1

Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: Ari and his team arrive at their Resort and begin making plans for the first mission.

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Allusions to death and serious injury.

Episode Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Song for Episode:  Night Fever by the Bee Gees

A/N: This is a long Chapter so we have split it into two Parts. P2 will be up tomorrow. J Again, we’re not historians, nor do we know Sudan in any detail…so if anything in here is factually incorrect, we mean no offence. Take it as slight creative license.

As always we live for re-blogs and comments

Series Master List   //  Main Masterlist 

And that sweet city woman, She moves through the light, Controlling my mind and my soul

“What the fuck is he wearing Cracker?” Max asked Hannah as he nodded over her shoulder. Frowning, she turned to see Ari had walked in, briefcase in hand, dressed in a dark brown velvet suit and a white and gold striped shirt with a large, open necked collar.

Hannah snorted “He looks like John Travolta.”

“Walking like him too…” Sammy mumbled.

“Night fever, night fever…we know how to do it…” Jake sang softly, and the rest of the group all started to chuckle, hastily turning away as Ari walked towards the table and dropped the briefcase down on it.

Ari greeted Ethan with a nod of his head and looked around the room. His team was already gathered standing around the oval metal table, chatting idly.

Max and Jake were sniggering about something and Ari could clearly see Sammy was trying to keep a straight face, hands in his trousers pockets and looking at his feet while bouncing on them. Did he want to know? Probably not.

And then he noticed Hannah. She was chatting with Rachel who was admiring the brown leather knee high boots she was wearing. Ari heard Rachel comment something about her loving chunky heels as Hannah twisted her left foot so that Rachel could have a better look at the boots.

But Ari wasn’t interested in the boots, well, ok he was, but his gaze then travelled upwards, following her black tights clad legs and thighs, until his eyes mid-thigh met the hem of the skirt of her maroon pleated chord pinafore. Luckily for him, when his eyes continued past up her waist and the long sleeved polka dot blouse she was wearing, and he could take in the delicate features of her face, she was still engaged in some sort of fashion conversation with Rachel.

She was stunning, but what was new there? He had to admit to himself he had felt his chest fill with warmth when he had been running through the fake passports Ethan had given him the previous evening. He had opened hers first, sitting on his bed in the privacy of his hotel room, tumbler of Scotch in hand. His eyes scanning Hannah's passport photo over and over again.  Those big round blue eyes looking directly at him.

Firefly, he had muttered running his thumb over the photo before gulping his drink.

Thus, Ari knew which would be the one on top at the deck of passports he was now pulling from his briefcase. He was going over the questions he would be asking each one of them in his head when he heard Max asking him something.

“You got chills Ari?”

“What?” Ari frowned, his head turning to Max and in the corner of his eye he noticed that Hannah turned to watch, biting her lip as behind her Sammy laughed and hastily started coughing to cover it up.

“Are they multiplying?” Jake chipped in.

“Are you losing control?” Max continued

“Coz the power, you’re supplying…it’s electrifying!” the two men sang together as Ari looked at the pair of them rolling his eyes, a smirk playing on his face. Behind him Ethan groaned.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up…” Ari’s mouth curled into a crooked smile. “I’m Guy Thomas…he wears this shit…its fashion. And besides, Max, you’ve no room to talk!”

Hannah snorted and turned to look at Max, taking his outfit in in more detail. Because they were all in Zurich at the NATCOR HQ under the guise of a simple Mossad business meeting, Ari had instructed the team to come dressed as they felt their Alter Egos would dress for work. Sammy and Jake were both dressed in suits and ties, Max was in a suit with an open collar pinstriped shirt.

“He has a point…” Hannah conceded “You’re like the Kenickie to his Danny…”

“Grease was based in the 50s.” Max narrowed his eyes at her.

“Yeah, which is when that shirt was in fashion.” Jake said, slapping Max on the shoulder. Hannah and Ari snorted before they were cut off by an angry noise from behind them.

“Save the outfit discussions for later.” Ethan snapped “You lot are going to get yourselves killed for fucks sake.”

“Ethan, Ethan…” Ari turned to him, his voice soothing “Just, calm down…we’ve not even started the meeting yet.”

“Exactly, and we’re already behind schedule so if you don’t mind…” He nodded his head in the direction of the table and everyone, suitably chastised, took a seat.

Ethan and Ari ran the group through the plans regarding the next few months and how the deployment was going to work. They were to fly out on the 4th January, from Zurich, where Ari and Rachel would meet with the Sudanese Government and get the paper work and everything signed for the lease on the diving resort. Whilst they were there Max, Hannah, Jake and Sammy were to pair off and head to 2 different places to pick up 2 different cars which would be ready and waiting with supplies from 2 in country contacts. Once the explanations were finished, Ari then picked up the false passports.

“So you’ve all had enough time to read over your covers.” Ari said, flipping through the pile of passports, selecting one “Remember, the point of being undercover is you keep it simple. So you should have memorised the basics, your name, date of birth, parents names, address, hometown that type of thing. Everything else you can make up on the spot but nothing too elaborate. Don’t take it too far from the actual truth because whatever you tell one person you need to remember to tell another.”

He paused and cleared his throat. “Ok, let’s see how you fare under questioning.” he looked at Hannah “Firefly, you first… Name?”

“Rosa-Maria Gomez” Hannah repeated back, without so much as batting an eyelid, her Spanish accent flawless.

“Where are you from?”

“Valencia.”

“What did you do?”

“Bar manager at a local hotel.”

“Which hotel?”

“Sidi Saler”

“How long for?”

“Just over 10 years. Travelled for a year or so after University, settled back home when I was 19. Never looked back.”

There wasn’t so much as a hint of hesitation when she spoke. Ari smiled at her and tossed the fake passport down in front of her. “Good job.”  he said and with a faint smile she reached for the passport.

Next he put Rachel through her paces, picking her up on the slight hesitation she had over her address and then Jake’s mistake over his elementary school name. He then turned to Sammy.

“Sammy…name. Where are you from? “

“I'm Liam Anderson. Australia.” Sammy said, picking up his passport

“First girlfriend.”

“Mary”

“Tell me about her.” Ari said, stopping at the head of the table.

“Mary Rose. Took my virginity and broke my heart.”

At that, Ari saw Hannah, who was sat at the far end of the table next to Sammy shift slightly. Despite himself he glanced at her and she caught his eye before she looked down at the table. Ari turned back to Sammy who was still speaking.

“We met at the University of Queensland in Brisbane.  I was 19. Later died in a car accident.”

“It's good.  Good work, Sammy.” Ari turned to Max “You're up.”

There was a pause as Max stared straight ahead before he glanced at the passport.

“I still think this is a stupid name for someone from Malta.” Max protested “Why Malta?”

Rachel gave a little chuckle as Ari looked at him, rolling his eyes as his hands fell to his hips.

“Max, when you learn a second language, that's where you can be from. Till then you're from Malta. No one knows what people from Malta speak.”

“What do people speak in Malta?”  Rachel asked.

“Maltese” Hannah supplied and sniggers rang round the table.

“See, no one knows, that's the point.” Ari said with a smile before he looked pointedly at Max “Name”

“Hello, everybody, my name's Irving Wilmington.” Max said in a ridiculously, fake European accent which made everyone start to laugh “And I'm from Malta-“

“You think this is funny?” Ethan’s angry voice cut across the laughter and everyone looked up at the man as he strode around the table. “Just for the record, there's not one person in this group that I would have chosen for this type of mission. You're all too reckless.” Hannah looked at Max who raised his eyebrows as if to say, he has a point…which to be fair, he kinda did.

“I've gone against every instinct I know.” Ethan continued as Ari looked down at the floor “broken every risk management rule I believe in, including sending two women to a Muslim country.” Ethan said, looking directly at Hannah then Rachel “So let's be very clear.  This mission has no backup.  There's no exfil plan for you.  You're going in without guns, or any other weapon.  If this goes wrong, you'll all be hanging from cranes in Khartoum.”

With that Ethan left the room and there was a moment of silence.

“Can’t wait…” Jake said, leaning back in his chair.

*****

Of course, nothing every runs completely smoothly. Jake was stopped by the Sudanese Immigration, simply to be released once he had paid the ‘bribe’ the officials wanted. Ari spotted him joining the others in the queue for cabs as he and Rachel departed in the car to the Tourism Board.

Then, they met with their contact in the Sudanese Government, Colonel Madibbo and embarked on the anticipated haggling over the price. The man looked Ari in the face and told him that the lease was five hundred thousand, to which Ari replied simply that they had agreed Two-Fifty. After a little bit of negotiation, Ari moved up to three-fifty, informing the Colonel it was their best offer, but then loaded told the man that could write it down as two-fifty and then take the rest and do something beneficial for the people of Sudan.

“You may not speak Arabic, Mr. Thomas. But you do speak the local language.” Madibbo laughed, and Ari simply glanced at Rachel before smiling back, fully understanding that the “local language” meant he’d given the man a bung, and that the extra hundred thou was going straight into the  Colonel’s own back pocket.

Bent bastard.

A few hours later everything was sorted, they’d been given everything they needed and Ari and Rachel walked out of the building, climbed in the arranged car and were dropped off on the main high-street where they headed to the inconspicuous Café that had been allocated as a meeting spot. Remaining in character, Ari and Rachel, or Guy and Angela, greeted their team loudly, as if it was the first time they had seen each other for a while, and then they all settled down at a table outside on the packed market square, and Ari briefed them as if he was briefing resort staff. They all listened, picked up on his cues and after a quick coffee each they all stood up to leave.

As they were leaving the Café, Max tossed one of the jeep’s keys at Ari, who caught them with a swift movement of his hand.  Once they reached the spot where the vehicles were parked Ari opened the driver's door to one of them and turned to see his team had stopped and were looking at the trucks as if deciding who was going to ride in each one of the trucks.

"Ride with me?" Max turned to ask Hannah waving the other set of keys in the air.

"Yup. I call shotgun!" she said as a reply as she walked round to open the passenger side door.

"Right, I'll be on the back seat." Jake quipped as she pulled the seat forward and gestured for him to get in the back.

Ari shook his head, hands on his hips, as he looked at Sam and Rachel through his shades before opening the back door of their jeep for Sam to jump in, tossing his backpack on the floor of the car as Rachel went to the side of the passenger seat.

"Guess the three musketeers have decided for all of us." Ari said as he jumped up in the truck, a trace of bitterness in his voice which wasn't undetected by Sammy.

"Oh my. The great Ari Levinson scorned by part of his team." Sam said, amused and Rachel chuckled.

"You're hilarious Sammy." Ari deadpanned as he fixed the rear view mirror for the third time in the last couple of minutes before he set off.

"Maybe you should keep an eye on Jake." he spoke again a minute later, turning to look at Sam as if trying to make sure he understood what he was implying. Sam examined him for a few moments before speaking

"Yeah, maybe. And maybe you should keep an eye on the road and stop looking through the mirror." Sam deadpanned turning his head slowly to the side window.

***** A few hours later, they had a quick pit stop to stretch legs and changed drivers. Ari was keen to make as good time as possible so it was only for a few moments, Max taking a well needed pee at the side of the truck, groaning in relief. Hannah shook her head, before she climbed in the back of the jeep. They set off again, and their gentle chatter struck up once more.

"So..." Jake said, turning to glance over his shoulder at Hannah, one eye sort of remaining on the road. "I've been dying to ask. Your nicknames..." "What about them?" She asked, turning her head to face him from where she had been looking out of the window. "Why does Ari call you Firefly when the rest of the team seems to call you Cracker?"

Max snorted and looked at Hannah who was grinning. "Ok so the cracker thing came from a mission." She said, thinking fondly back "it was the first one we all actually ran together...me, Max, Sammy, Ari...Andy..." she trailed off for a moment before she continued "we were sat round the fire one night and Andy had a pack of those little savoury fish cracker things. We started playing a game as to how many each of us could fit in our mouths. Max insisted he would win...but who in fact did win Maxwell?" "You..." Max sighed "by 2 crackers" "So Andy started calling me crackers which became cracker and it stuck..." she shrugged. "Well, with everyone but Ari that is..." "Yeah, so explain the Firefly thing..." Jake pushed. "The first time I met Ari was when he came over one evening with Sammy. It was just before Sammy moved out." Hannah said "I was 17 and we were sat out in the garden at the back. It wasn't a huge garden, communal like, shared with 3 other houses but I loved it because there was a colony of lightning bugs, or fireflies that frequented it. It was a few months later Sammy was being an ass-hat about something and I flipped out at him and threw a mug at his head. It missed and smashed against the wall but Ari found it hilarious. Told I was just like those little fireflies I admired so much. Such an ordinary, unassuming thing on the outside with a hell of a surprise packed away underneath..." Jake paused and then started laughing "Now that's a back handed compliment if ever I did hear one." Hannah grinned "I know. When I asked him what he meant by ordinary you should have seen his face. He was all flustered and stammering and worried he'd offended me. Lasted all of 2 minutes until I cracked up laughing and told him I understood." "Well, fireflies are pretty awesome..." Jake smiled "A symbol of light in the dark, hope, warmth" "Yup, all things Ari said to me when he was back pedalling over the whole ordinary thing" Hannah smiled with a shrug "either way, it stuck."

My little firefly…

“Tell him what you call Ari.” Max said and Hannah snorted.

“El Lobo hambriento” She replied after a moment’s pause “Or Lobo for short.”

“And that means…” Jake looked at her again for a second.

“Spanish for the hungry wolf…” Hannah said “It came from when he used to eat my Mama out of house and home whenever he came round with Sammy. And over time it got shortened to Lobo…just wolf…”

Jake laughed “Well, he is kinda hairy…but you know, that should be my nickname given that I am actually a Wolf.”

“By name…” Max teased “You look like more of a poodle.”

Hannah laughed and leaned forward, so that her head poked between the front to seats in the car “You can be Loop.” “Loop?” Jake frowned.

“Short for Lupin…Latin for Wolf, or there or thereabouts anyway. Or it could just mean you’re a total fruit loop, take your pick…”

Jake gave a huge guffaw of laughter and looked at her “Does that make you Little Red Riding Hood?”

Hannah snorted as Max shook his head, looking out at the window “That’s the shittest chat up line I’ve ever heard” he spoke, turning back to Jake.

“Can’t blame a man for trying” Jake winked.

After a total of six hours and a couple more stops to stretch and freshen up, if that was even possible in the middle of the desert, they arrived in the resort. But they couldn't properly see it until they got out of the trucks, the windows being partly covered by dust as they had taken shortcuts over sand dunes to save quite a few hours more off the travel time should they have opted to use the main roads.

When they finally got out of the car they took some clumsy steps on the sand after being into the confined space of car for that many hours. Jake lit a cigarette and as he looked at Ari he couldn't help but make a howling noise to Hannah who started laughing immediately. As if on cue, Max started howling too and the three of them were caught in a fit of hysteric laughter,  Max bending his body for balance and Hannah leaning on Jake's arm.

Ari, Sam and Rachel stood there watching the three of them, dumbfounded. Ari shared a glance with Sam before he shot his sister a look and she pulled herself together still trying holding back laughter. Ari sighed before he took a few more steps towards the main entrance of the resort and the rest of the team followed suit.

They all stopped still, looking at the ram-shackled building in front of them, the words Red Sea Diving Resort were descripted in fading red paint above the large, archway shaped door. Hannah removed her shades, looking at it, and she let out a loud breath from where she stood at the end of the line they seemed to have formed, next to Max.

“It sure doesn't look like the brochure.”  she said, and everyone turned to look at her, Max giving a small huff of laughter. After a second or so, Ari moved to the trucks to retrieve their luggage and the rest of them followed suit before they headed towards the entrance. Ari wrestled with the wooden trellised screen doors before he gave one a harsh push and it fell forward off its hinges, crashing to the floor sending up a cloud of dust and sand. He turned to look at them all, giving a shrug before he headed inside.  They all followed and Hannah cast her eyes around as they hit the main room. All the window screens were shut, leaving it quite dark despite the bright late afternoon sunshine outside. Chairs and tables were piled haphazardly around the edges of the main room of the resort, various other pieces of furniture dotted around.

“It needs a little TLC.” Ari said, turning to the team.

“Nice.” Rachel chuckled.

“Oh, yeah?” Sammy snorted, pushing the shaded lenses on his glasses up as he looked around with a laugh. “What a dump.”

Hannah watched as Jake moved to open one of the sets of doors which led out onto the beach and instantly the place was flooded with light. She glanced at Max who smiled and they followed him out onto the beach.

“This is paradise!” Jake sighed. Max looked at him, incredulously, but Hannah had to admit, outside it was beautiful. A secluded cove of The Red Sea right was in front of them, the sun bouncing off the blue water, waves softly lapping at the shore.

Max pushed his glasses back up his nose and headed away to his right, Hannah following as they walked round the side of the resort and up a small boardwalk which led to a small pier of sorts.

“Well, hello, gorgeous…” she heard Max say. Hannah turned to see him examining a spear gun which was leaned up against the glass windows in front of him. She rolled her eyes.

“Your obsession with sniping weapons is worrying.” she arched an eyebrow.

He turned to face her with a grin before he tucked his shades into his shirt and picked up the fishing spear, holding it like a gun, checking down the sight target. The two of them stepped further round and Hannah frowned as Max stopped under a wooden shelter of sorts and the pair of them spotted the large, silver fish hanging from the structure. It had been beheaded, the head laying on a grill, and Max turned to look at her.

“This fish is fresh.” he frowned.

“Don’t eat it…” Hannah said instantly, teasing him about his obsession with food.

“Don’t eat…it’s fucking raw.” he rolled his eyes at her.

“Never had sushi?” she shot back.

“Don’t care for it much…” he mused before they both exchanged a glance, the seriousness of the fact that the fish, was indeed newly caught sinking in as Max turned to call back to the resort.

“Hey, yo, this fish is fresh!”

Ari who had been walking along the shore, heard Max’s call, along with Rachel’s which informed everyone she had found a newspaper from this week .He stopped and glanced back into the resort before he opened the door into one of the bedroom huts. Taking a glance round he threw open the wooden window screens, turning his face away as the sand and dust from outside blew into his face. It was then a familiar smell hit his nose and he glanced down to his left and saw that there were cigarette butts in an ashtray. One was still smoking slightly.

And then, someone jumped up from behind a pile of furniture in the corner of the room and shot out of the door. Ari turned and sprinted after him, yelling for him to stop and calling to the team. They all joined him, sprinting around the corner where Ari stopped at the sight of a group of what they could only assume were locals.

“Hello.  My name...” Ari began, before he whipped off his sunglasses, figuring they might trust him more if they could see him eye to eye “My name's Guy Thomas.  I'm the new owner of this hotel.”

The locals didn’t speak, and Hannah noticed that the woman at the front, adorned in bright yellow local dress was glancing at Max nervously.

“Max, lower that thing…” she said softly, as he had the spear gun raised.

Ari turned to face him and nodded, gesturing with his hands “Come on.”

“Sorry.” Max said gently, as he slowly lowered his weapon.

“Abu Hamid.” the man at the front of the group spoke to them.

“Hello.” Ari greeted him kindly.

“What the hell's going on?” Sammy spoke gently through his smile.

“I think we just met the local staff.” Ari said softly, looking round at everyone.

Part 2

[blissfulalchemist]

Things you said at the back of the theatre for Liz and Wyatt 🎭

Things you said at the back of the theatre stage. Jo I still love them!

Ninety-three days, ten hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty three seconds. That’s how long it had been since I last got to hold him, kiss him, hear his voice without the static. The longest we had been away from each other, the longest game of timezone tag since we made our plans to leave marks and legacies on the world. I don’t know how he managed it or what went through his mind as I saw him for the first time in so long. I had just spoken to him on the phone two hours prior as I helped to set up the rally. I had wished he could attend, seen me perform and have him on stage with me showing the world what a force we are. 

I was on my fifth song of the night, the ache for him in my chest as I couldn’t help but remember the times we sang this song in his childhood home. His mom, my aunt, showing us the beat, stomping and singing, that first moment I truly understood the power of song and music. How it could convey so much and rally a group of people for something bigger than themselves. Those lyrics fueling me as I demanded the attention of those up top to focus on me and my people below, “Buddy, you're a young man, hard man. Shouting in the street, gonna take on the world someday.” The crowd sings along and amplifies the message we want to send, “You got blood on your face, you big disgrace! Waving your banner all over the place!” I’m walking across the stage with my own pride flag waving in the wind, ”We will, we will rock you, sing it! We will, we will rock you, yeah!” 

I hold the mic out to the crowd preparing and singing that last verse, anger and justice coursing through my veins. I glance behind me to see the guitarist I’ve practiced with getting himself ready calm as ever, the thunder beneath us raging. The lone note, feedback from the guitar builds and I’m too focused on the crowd to notice him walking to the front of the stage. His dark hair covering his face as he strikes the first chord, I don’t need to see it as I instantly recognize the posture and energy radiating off of him as he plays the solo. Wyatt’s blue green eyes meeting mine with a smile on his face. I’m short of stunned standing on that stage, words leaving me as I watch him take in the glory of the audience’s reaction. 

He embraces me on the stage, kissing me in front of everyone, I can finally notice the painted bisexual flags on his cheeks. He pulls away from me, cheers erupting from the crowd as we take a bow. We play a few more songs together, the flow and energy natural and needed for this small scale music rally. I’ll be back on this stage again soon for the final number one Wyatt has already agreed to partake in, he’ll be lead guitar as he’s played “Jackboot Jump” with me before.

None of that matters though as we embrace once again in the shelter of equipment boxes. My heart hasn’t stopped racing since I saw him, arms tight around him, “I thought you couldn’t make it? You didn’t have the money to come by on such short notice.”

He nuzzles his face into my neck, “Convinced mom to send over what I needed. I couldn’t miss this, couldn’t stand to see it behind a screen,” he’s holding my face in his hands, ones that I lean into, “The guitar entrance though, that was impulsive. I didn’t think it was gonna work.”

“It was an entrance alright,” I laugh tears escaping silently, god I’ve missed him so much, “You managed to take all the attention away from me.”

His thumbs wipe away my waterworks, “Never. You’re a sun, big, bright, and impossible to miss,” his lips meet mine again, my fingers entwining themselves in his raven hair. His hands running down  my body resting at my hips, forehead pressed to mine, whispering, “I love you so much, sol mío.”

“I see you’ve been talking to my parents,” he laughs, “Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but you’re still managing to steal my thunder, parum leo.”

“Now who’s been talking to the other’s parents,” he teases, pulling out his phone, “Speaking of which I need to send over my end of the bargain.” I stand on my tiptoes looking at the screen, already there’s a recording of my performance that he quickly sends over to his mom. I assume Wren is going to be calling soon to congratulate us, that limited our time alone for this moment. 

I pull him away to the side of the stage, as much as I’d like to bring him to the empty tent, there wouldn’t be enough time. Time, never enough of it with him, but soon….soon we will have all of it. Until then though we can enjoy a sunset and some music before we are called back onto stage to bring the final song to life. His hands haven’t left me since we finally left the stage and I never want them too. There’s only two minutes left before we go on, turning to look up at his face, “I love you.” His smile only for me says all I need to know on how he feels about me, “Wyatt,” my fingers play with the necklace he wears, “When this is over, when I graduate I’ve decided I’m going to go to New York.”

His eyes widen, jaw dropping, “But what about all your work here? You’ve said it yourself these are your people. I can’t ask you to give that up. I don’t want you too.”

“Your opportunities are in New York are they not?” He nods, “Then my work can take me to New York and we can live in some tiny apartment while you dance, I rally and fight, we eat takeout because there’s no way our kitchen would be big enough to make proper meals, listen to the sounds of the city as we lie on the thin mattress on the floor nostalgic for the quiet of home, and work to get our lives together. I want that with you, I just want a life with you.” I kiss him once more, “I don’t care where we are so long as I’m with you and not miles away anymore. Just say that you want that too and I’ll seal my fate with yours.”

Wyatt lifts me spinning us as he kisses me, the only answer I need. “Yes my sunshine! Yes I want that with you. I want you.” Any celebration we want to have is cut short as we’re pushed back onto the stage, guitar shoved into Wyatt’s hands. We get into place, my eyes never leaving him as he gets himself ready, my hand reaches for the tambourine left for me. He shakes out his shoulders before looking up to me.

We give each other a single nod and he starts off the song, the crowd cheering at the recognition. I wait for my queue of the drums starting, the instrument hitting my thigh keeping the beat. I grab my mic at the pause, “At Standing Rock the Jackboot Jump! You'd swear was all the rage!” Perfectly in sync Wyatt and I, just as we always have been. Now and forever.

[iammamenow]

🔮Dream Snippet💤

This Evening: 'Karl Satan', featuring Misha Collins

My friend and I are avid metalheads. So much so, in fact, that we concluded that if we'd have known each other before our officially meeting in college, we would've led drastically different lives for the better. Our music tastes made us the quintessential outcasts throughout our childhood, in our differently placed yet all too similar environments of the unforgiving grammar school setting. And if we'd have been together, instead of rebelling alone? Hell. We would've been fucking merciless; scaring off all those who tried to subdue us with 'Slipknot'.

Luckily, we didn't miss each other entirely. It was she that managed to get tickets to our local Knotfest, and since then we've practically been inseparable. We have a whole list of other acts we NEED to see. Jinjer, Cherry Bombs, System of A Down... Killswitch Engage is one of the more recent ones added to the list.

And it keeps on building from there.

Blame the die-hard fan in me, but I even go so far as to dream of the concerts we'll see, and the bands that'll be headlining it. Very rarely is it ever as detailed with the opening number.

So you can only imagine my surprise when this little nightly fantasy in particular came in and dropped kick the bomb on me from up close instead of merely from up high.

Because as much as I love metal, Supernatural comes in at a very, very close second.

Onto the dream! That way you'll see what I mean.

My friend and I are already at the venue. We gave up the idea of seats and smuggled our way into the nearest pit where there was already a circle forming, whirling in rhythm to the revving up of the amps testing out the guitars. It had been years since I'd been in one. I jump in, just in time for the wave that comes our way. My friend decides to watch from the sidelines. To my chaotic, she is the zen. Even at a metal concert, where we both inevitably lose our shit, but in our own way.

Soon the tests of chords cease from the guitars, the rhythmic hits from each individual drum and symbol cut. That long drone of bassy silence fills the entire place with that unsaid but solid presence of a queue - someone's about to go on.

The crowd cheers. My friend and I - along with the whole circle pit - turn to look at the stage and do the same. Naturally. No matter who's up there, you cheer. It's a metal concert, for Satan's sake. More than likely, every fucking band is gonna knock your ass out. I haven't been proven wrong if that yet.

And I certainly wasn't in my dream.

The five souls that come walking across the stage are oh so gothically dressed, it warms my heart to it's original sad core. The drama in the abundance of buckles, glinting a brilliant gold in the overhead stage lights; then the overall theatricality of the fact that their whole theme just mirrors that of my favorite horror movie 'Hellraiser' and it's main antagonists, The Cenobites. I was ready. I was waiting, already wanting the onslaught of their sound that I just knew had to be fucking brutal. I mean look at the way they're dressed! We were in for it.

Oh, we were.

I was.

The one stopping in front of the mic had an elaborate coverall mask on, save for the bottom half of his face. And when he took it off to reveal the rest of it, everyone cried out in bloody shock and praise.

I just went quiet.

My friend yelled out for me the "holy SHIT" that was already on my lips and screeching in my head when the now unmasked figure introduced himself as none other than the angel in a trenchcoat. The man that plays him, that is.

Misha Collins

I couldn't tune out the world around me if I tried. I didn't want to. Not even if I was in absolute shock. I do not allow myself to fade off into some haze or other ethereal realm when it comes to events like this. I want to be there, in that moment; one that I made it all this way for. For all concerts generally. For metal concerts specifically.

I just need to be there. All there.

And man, in that moment, was I fucking glad I was.

After making himself known, Misha turns to the band and introduces them as 'Karl Satan'. I know there was a deeper joke in there, i just know it. But I was too busy laughing at the name alone to even dissect it any further. Frankly, so was the audience. Such a hearty chorus brought a smile to Misha's lips.

As he readied the mask to be put back on again, he made one final claim as himself to say that he formed this cover band to try his hand at "this music shtick", just like the rest of his cast mates from the show. Personally, I never had any doubt that he had something like this in his artillery; something akin to a band or music act. But like this? Hell no. Hell. No! Hence making it all the more lovely of a surprise.

With that, the mask went back on, and he sent a nod the drummers way before the lights faded out, leaving us in an anticipating darkness. Almost as quickly as it set in for us did it get fucking shot with the sharp bash of the symbols, joined by the aftershocks of the snares.

It's starting. Holy fuck, it's starting!

The rhythm was classic, dangerously revving up to what you could literally taste to be a sweet drop. Above all, it was familiar. My friend and I were in perfect sync with Misha, when through the mask he screamed through gnashed teeth:

"THE YEARS I PUT INTO THIS!!"

His leadership was seamless; effortless. Without question, you would believe that he had done this before. With the headbangs intertwined in the thrumming veins of both the percussive guitar riff and the drums, he would channel his power back and forth. First he would go, then the audience.

The circle pit was a whole world of it's own. No. It was a black hole, sucking in other fans who caught a glance at it, and soon as they did, wanted to join the fray. I even got my friend to come in and join me in the air, where they hoisted me up once the center of the circle started to disappear with the amount of people swallowing up all the empty space. We were floating orbs in this fanatic atmosphere. Two circulating asteroids in the midst of a hailstorm of meteors, heading straight for the center our universe - the stage.

It was fucking AMAZING.

And so utterly filled with Misha-esque quips of humor and theatricality, making it feel all the more REAL. For example, as the opening number progressed, he would add little bits of harsh criticism of his own voice and caliber of scream. Then after the next song, he would transition with a story on how he auditioned to play a demon for Supernatural in the first place, and has since taken the rejection hard. "Can you tell? I started singing about it! Singing? Screaming? You get the idea. Yeah, you get it. I know you do". He then laughs suddenly, throwing his head back. He brings the mic up to follow that of his mouth, facing skyward. "Wait, wait! How shitty would it be if I would've actually gotten that fucking role if I'd have just done THIS?! Just SCREAM AT THEM?!" Like second nature does his Castiel voice come out. He even took of the mask again so that he could throw on the whole audience that quintessential doe eyed gaze of the angel's, complete with the head tilt. "Would you call me an angel then, Dean?" His own guffaw, bringing Misha back. "There you go. That's how Cas got his voice. He kept screaming into the void *Castiel voice* and came back out with this... As for the others, I can't speak for them. They wanna speak two octaves below their normal voice, who am I to say anything? Trick question. I'm the one who can't say anything because I'm too busy getting a sore throat all the time. Thanks, Cas. Love you, too. That bitch".

Forget what I said. AMAZING doesn't cut it. It was fucking GOLD.

And above all, it was a fucking DREAM.

I woke up eventually, and here I am three or so days later writing about it, still reeling from it.

I have only to conclude that the two things that make me happy are what seems to be a mirror with it's two sides, representing one thing in the reflection: the one thing that made me happy back then, and the one that makes me happy now.

I thought I had to outgrow one. Just like I think currently that I'll soon have to outgrow the other.

But do I? Do I really?

They go so well together.

Perhaps the real question is, what if they both don't wanna leave?

[ladybuvelle]

Munday Confession Part 2 (since I already made a first one):

I think this is common for a lot of artists, but the very first time I drew the raw image of a couple kissing I got so shocked and embarrassed by what I’d just done (and given the aggressive, passionately charged context of the comic which it had been part of on the page) that I tore it out of my sketchbook, folded it up several times, then carefully snuck it into the kitchen to throw it out. Putting garbage on top of it just in case there was the off chance someone saw it. Which was entirely unlikely. I was around 14 years old at the time. It was a really stupid Zelda fan comic with a self-insert OC.

[shipskicksandgiggles]

Idk why but i can’t stop thinking about peter losing his voice after a mission that had him shouting a lot, maybe a mission where he was in charge of keeping civilians out of the way of danger and he kept having to shout directions to people to keep them safe idk. The next day he’d wake up and Harley would greet him with a good morning and a sweet kiss and peter opens his mouth to try and respond but all that come out is a crackling little groan. He winces and brings a hand up to his 1/2

[Up to his sore throat and pouts up at Harley. He clears his throat and tries again but he only manages to let out a raspy grunt. Harley hushes him and tells him to stop trying to speak. He gets out of bed and makes peter a cup of tea to help soothe his throat and vocal cords. He grabs a stark pad for his bf so he can type out replies to things instead of speaking and settle down beside peter in their bed. They spend a majority of the day watching movies and cuddling so peter doesn’t have to talk 2/2]

I have absolutely no idea what this is for, but thank you so much as I have a very sore throat rn and I started writing things out for my friend earlier. I really wanted to project but I had no idea how until just now. you’re a gift from god, ily anon!

***

The battle sucked. Too many civilians almost got in the way. Peter had to keep yelling out to make sure no one got crushed or left behind in the chaos.

Having Harley as his backup helped a little, but most of IronLad’s power was directed at the giant robot running rampant on the streets. Neither of them could wait to get back home.

~~~

Post-battle ritual was mandated Disney movie marathons and cuddles until they fell asleep. They’d made a playlist of movies for JARVIS to queue up, a decision they’d made so they wouldn’t have to choose every time.

They started on The Princess and the Frog. Harley dosed off almost immediately, definitely a side effect of the effort he put in, and Peter was out soon after with Harley’s warmth surrounding him.

~~~

Peter woke up first, content to continue cuddling his boyfriend. It was another hour before Harley even started stirring.

“Mornin’ dolly,” he said as he dropped a kiss onto Peter’s hairline.

When Peter opened his mouth to reply, the only sound that would come out was a very scratchy “Good morning, love.”

Harley, to his credit, didn’t laugh. He was; however, extremely alarmed. “Are you sick?” he asked.

“Must have-” his voice cracked, hard.

“Wait no hold on.”

He whined at the loss of contact, but Harley returned quickly with a StarkPad. “Type it. I also put on a kettle to make you some tea.”

Peter nodded and started typing what he was planning on saying before. “Must have yelled too hard. Ruined my vocal chords.”

The StarkPad was replaced by a steaming mug of chamomile when Harley took it to read his theory. “I put honey in that too, so drink up. It’ll help the soreness,” he added.

“Why didn’t you just tell me to use my speaker system?” He handed back the tablet.

“You were busy,” tapped Peter simply.

Harley shrugged. “Still no reason to hurt your voice.”

There was silence while they contemplated their predicament. “Wanna finish the movie we started?” he asked. “That way, you don’t have to talk and I have an excuse to cuddle you back to health?”

He rolled his eyes, but nodded. Harley cheered and yelled for JARVIS to turn the movie back on.

And if Tony found them in that exact position only sleeping hours later, that was between him and the new picture of the lovebugs on his Twitter feed.