#we can just d raw something once and you can sell it somehow

[flamboyant-king]

I know im the funny haha comic person but i really do want to sell merch at conventions or online too ya know. Think that would be easier than doing commissions once a year pshh

[nowoyas]

Stop Counting

A/N: day 27 of the Izumonth server collab hosted by @birds-have-teeth​! this one is pretty much just a lovechild of me and my absolute adoration for Skies of Arcadia, an old JRPG and one of my favorite games of all time, hence *sky* pirate instead of just, like, regular pirate Izuku. this fic was initially intended to end with a big old NSFW sequence but I couldn’t make myself like it. if I ever make myself like it I’ll probably post that section as a sequel/alternate ending!

Summary: You are one of many captured by the Empire and forced to work dangerous jobs aboard their ships. Izuku and the other members of his crew raid your ship in search of things to sell and gold to take, and leave with you. (sky pirate!izuku x reader)

Warnings: angst. there’s a sad dog. at this point you can assume if I wrote a fic there is probably swearing somewhere.

Word count: 4700+

Something is wrong.

You don't know what. You can't know what. But the men holding you aboard this ship are running and shouting even more than usual (which is saying a lot). The ship shook about sixty breaths ago, which is becoming less of a good method of time-keeping now that you're starting to feel more scared than you're used to and your breathing is quickening.

You live in this engine room. When you are told, you add fuel to the fire for the men on the ship. You try to keep time. You count your breaths as best you can. Every eleven thousand breaths or so, with steady breathing, you receive food. You sleep only when a guard allows it. You thank the moons that they aren't working you to your total death.

You have worked in this ship for a very long time.

A very long time, and yet, no time at all, because you no longer have a way to tell the time, other than your breaths. And in this very long time, you've never once heard the men running around like this.

Footsteps are approaching your door. Many, lighter than those of the armored men who feed you or guard you. And it isn't time for you to receive food.

So who is approaching your door, you wonder?

The footsteps stop in front of your door, and after a moment, you hear muffled voices.

"I don't know, maybe we can get some extra fuel for our ship while we're here, too."

The voice is unfamiliar. So unfamiliar, in fact, that familiar feelings well up in you. You're no amnesiac: you remember what life used to be like for you, what the sky looked like, how it felt to talk and have friends and family, though you've long forgotten who those friends and family were. Most importantly, you remember hearing stories of (and even once meeting!) rogue pirates who raid Empire ships.

Empire ships like the one you have lived on for so long you only mostly remember what it felt like to gaze upon the moons.

"I think you're wasting time. How are we going to get the door open, anyway?"

"I-I think I can pick the lock!"

Your body moves without thinking, and you nearly launch yourself at the door, raising your fists to pound against the metal as you search for your voice. "A-are you guys rogues? Please get me out of here! Please!" The strain on your throat forces you to cough, and you fall to the floor, landing roughly on your knees as you cough up a lung from sheer stress.

"Someone's in there!"

"I'm working on it!"

You don't realize you're sobbing in your spot, not when the door swings open wide, not until you're being cradled against someone's chest and helped to your feet.

"Hey, you're okay. You're free now. We're taking over this ship."

The dam officially breaks. Clutching at this kind stranger's top, you begin to sob. He struggles a bit in your hold, wriggling around until he's shucked off his jacket and draped it over your nearly bare shoulders. "For now, come with us, and we'll help you decide what to do from there, okay?"

You whimper pathetically, subconsciously snuggling into his hold and his jacket as you look up at his face and nod. Your savior is a man with a boyish face, unruly green hair, and freckles across his cheeks the way you remember the stars. He smiles down at you as reassuringly as he can.

"My name's Izuku. Can you walk?"

Another nod. "I-I don't know the way out," you borderline whisper, voice unbearably hoarse. "I haven't been outside of this room in... a long time."

He nods. "We're gonna gather up some of this ship's fuel. Stay close to me, I'll protect you. The Empire can't touch you now."

~

Izuku Midoriya isn't quite sure how to feel about the latest raid. The Empire ship was full of guards, full of fuel and food, not so full of gold. They took what was valuable, and left.

And then there's you.

This is hardly the first time Izuku's boarded a ship in his time. He's done plenty with his crew, and learned quite a lot. But it never truly hit him just how unjust the Empire was until he found you. You're obviously malnourished, dressed in tattered clothes that barely cover anything important and covered in a layer of grime that stubbornly remained even after your first attempts to clean it off. The girl who'd gone with you to help you wash up must have scrubbed the skin raw, and yet you still look shaken, skin stained from skies only know how long you spent locked in that engine room. Your hair, precariously long from time spent with no way to cut it, has been drawn back into a bun.

Now, while the rest of the crew is drinking and feasting, you stand off in the corner, hands at your sides as you breathe slowly. You're not even watching the fun, eyes closed. Izuku's jacket swamps your malnourished form–how long it must have been since you had a decent meal, and you're just standing in the corner while the others eat.

He's heard stories, sure. The Empire captures people from conquered settlements, usually the healthiest, and puts them to work in manufacturing or dangerous, unfun jobs like adding fuel to ship furnaces. Usually, these people go mad after not much time, or when they're freed, they throw themselves into the sky or refuse to leave the engine rooms. You'd hesitated at first, but once you were out of the room, he kept you close at hand, one point of contact at all times until you were safely below decks of The Crescent.

With a huff, Izuku stands, grabbing a plate of food and walking over to you. "H-hey, um."

You open your eyes, watching him curiously as he thrusts the plate of food towards you in offering. 

"I know it's scary right now, but everyone on the crew really is good. You should eat something, and come sit down, i-if you want? I don't even know your name yet; I'd like to talk to you, if I can."

You look down at the plate of food for a long moment, and then back up to him. You speak in a meek voice, so quiet and hoarse that he has to lean in to hear you. "[Name]..."

"[Name]," he repeats, testing it on his tongue. "Your name?"

"I think so. It's been... A very long time. Since I had one."

"It's a good name. D-do you want to come up to the deck with me to eat? It's probably been a while since you saw the sky, and I bet these guys are pretty overwhelming when they're drinking."

"Okay, I-Izuku."

Without another word, you follow him up to the deck of the ship. He'll get you out of your shell yet.

~

Before long, you find yourself cleaning the ship whenever you can to help out. You've been aboard the Crescent for a week now—Izuku is sure to check in on you often, and with his help, you've started to integrate yourself into talking more with the rest of the crew, and last night, you even ate with everyone. After a week of baths and attempts to scrub yourself clean of engine room grime, you finally feel clean, light in a way you're sure you've never experienced. 

Some of the crew members banded together to find you a full outfit to wear instead of your previous rags–you look rather like a street rat wearing a rogue's clothes now, instead of your previous pure rattiness. Izuku hasn't asked for his jacket back, and so it remains with you, a strange source of comfort as you find new places on the ship to hide.

Right now, though, you aren't hiding. When Izuku comes looking for you, he finds you cleaning the bridge, eyes glued to the sky rather than your work. It's a cool night–a sniff of the air suggests incoming rain.

"Hey, [name]," he says as he approaches. He's learned quickly to approach slowly—you tend towards the startled animal around sudden noises, and no one wants that. You nod your acknowledgement. "The Captain's looking for you. You should get inside, anyways, I think it's gonna rain soon."

You stand, tearing your eyes away from the sky regretfully. "I-I see."

"Sorry to tear you from your stargazing." He offers an apologetic smile, which you take with your usual nod. "It must be strange, to be able to just look at the sky after everything that's happened to you."

"Mm. It's prettier than I remember. I missed it."

"You seem to be recovering well, though! I'm impressed by how well you're doing already."

"Recovering," you breathe. "Right."

You find the captain in his own cabin, where he's poring over some maps and marking something down that you don't know enough about to comment on. He looks up at your intrusion, and instinctively, you step closer to Izuku. 

You're not sure how to feel about the captain. Sometimes, he's larger than life itself, loud and showy. When he's not, it's as though he compensates, becoming small, sharp, and calculating. No matter how he's acting, he looks at you in a way that scares you even though there's always compassion there. Granted, you feel vaguely uncomfortable around literally everyone aboard the Crescent, but somehow it's worse around Captain Yagi.

"Ah, [name], come in!" He seems to be in his soft-spoken mode—you stay rooted to the spot, hands coming up to pull your jacket tighter around your shoulders. Izuku telegraphs his movements, placing a hand on the small of your back to help you understand that you're being asked to come stand at the table with Captain Yagi.

'What did you ask to see me for?', you want to say. Instead, you manage a painfully quiet, "you looked for me."

He nods sheepishly. "Please, sit down. Izuku, my boy, you may stay if you wish. If I'm not mistaken, [name] seems a bit more comfortable with you around."

The two of you take your seats, and Captain Yagi sits across from you. "Now then. I'm not sure how much you've been told, [name], but typically, when we find captives such as yourself aboard Empire ships, we try to return them to their homes or, if we can't, bring them someplace to start a new life. But, from what I've heard from the other crew members, you don't have any place to go, is that right?"

You nod, biting your lip. Your eyes scan the map on the table. None of it looks remotely familiar to you. "I don't remember enough. Um... Maybe a harbor town. There were lots of boats. But that was so long ago, even if I were to return, I don't remember anyone who was there."

He sighs. "I figured you might have spent too long in captivity to remember much. Did they ever once let you out of that room?"

"If I wanted to eat, I had to go wait in the side room I slept in until they put my food down and left."

Izuku's eyes flash in recognition. "Are you talking about that broom closet in the engine room? You slept there?" he asks, his voice pitching with anger.

You cringe, moving to hide in your jacket. "I'm sorry."

The hand resting on your back smooths over carefully in small circular motions. It's almost calming. "Hey, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at the people who did that to you. You're okay."

"I apologize if I've brought up unpleasant memories, child. We could use someone aboard the Crescent to help keep things clean, and our cooks could use the helping hand. If you're aboard the ship, you help out. That's our main rule. If you'd like, we can let you onto our crew for a time, so you can leave if we happen to find your old home to return to."

"Okay."

"My boy, young [name] here is the most comfortable around you. Can I formally ask that you show them the ropes and help them get accustomed to the ship?"

"I can help with the engines if you need it," you say. "If the Crescent has a similar engine."

He smiles, shakes his head. "No, my dear. If possible, we'd like to keep you from ever entering an engine room again. You've spent quite enough time around them, for sure."

"Oh. Alright. Thank you, Captain."

"If I may ask, how often did those Imperials actually feed you? You don't have to answer, I'm just curious."

"Every eleven thousand breaths," you reply automatically. "If I was lucky. Sometimes, they forgot."

"Eleven thousand... Breaths?"

You nod. "I keep steady breathing. I needed some semblance of time. No natural light in the engine room. So I count my breaths, always. The people on this ship seem to sleep after around six thousand, seven hundred breaths, based on what I've seen. Eleven thousand breaths seems to be about one day cycle."

"You're still counting?" Captain Yagi raises an eyebrow.

"Yes. It's... A little compulsive at this point. I start over at eleven thousand, make a mark on the wall of my sleep room to keep track. Or did."

Izuku shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "[Name], the walls of that room were covered in marks. I don't think any of us could have counted how many there were, even if we did have the time. Were those the number of days you spent there?"

"I'm lucky," you say, shrugging. "One of the others said that on other Empire ships, you're lucky to be fed half as often."

"Well, you can stop counting now. You're free to do whatever you want, so long as you offer us a helping hand as you have been, and we eat several times a day."

For the longest moment, you don't respond. You simply watch Captain Yagi's face in disbelief. You're not sure what to do with freedom.

"Did you hear me, [name]?"

"Yeah. I can stop counting. I can finally... Stop counting."

~

It isn't long before Izuku begins teaching you your way around a sword in his spare time. You blend in to the crew beautifully, and as time goes, you begin to actually fill your clothes and your skin, starting to occupy any amount of space in the room. You come out of your shell, start to wear Izuku's jacket instead of hiding in it. You come ashore when they stop at various islands, never straying far from the crew, but you never recognize the places that you're taken to. After several months, you ask to join in on a raid, your skills with a sword becoming admirable, and captain Yagi agrees to let you take part.

The raid goes swimmingly. In celebration and to fence off the goods retrieved from yet another Empire ship, the Crescent docks at a harbor town Izuku told you was one of his favorites to visit.

The moment you step off the ship, you know where you are. The streets are familiar, the faces moreso, but you're not delighted at your return home. You let your hair (having been cropped short for function some time ago, but still more than long enough) fall in your face, keep your eyes on your feet, and stick close to Izuku as always.

"About three years back, the Empire hit this place pretty hard," Izuku says, walking you down the streets. The buildings around you aren't quite as familiar; they're in the wrong places, the wrong colors, too new and too... different. "That was right after my first time visiting here. We had no idea until months later, when we came back to re-visit and the place had been nearly burnt to the ground."

Your voice doesn't want to come when you call on it to respond, as though speaking will break the magic and send you all the way back to the engine room. Still, you must respond. You don't want to be rude, even if Izuku has been nothing but patient and caring with you. "Did you ever find out what happened?"

"We got the general gist of it, but there's not a lot to tell." Izuku's brow is creased with something a lot like pain that quickly fades away when he continues to speak. "The Empire heard this was a place that was friendly to pirates, and they decided to show them what happens to pirates and their friends. If you've ever questioned what we're doing, going against the Empire... this is a pretty good reminder of why."

"Right." Faces come up in your memory, dusty from disuse, but some of them almost seem to match those you see in market stalls, selling fruit to strangers.

"It's been amazing, watching this place rebuild since then. They've got a lovely little community here, y'know? We've been helping when we can, sometimes when we board we help out with labor or money, if they need it. Every time I come back, they've fixed up a different building or there's new faces settling down. One thing hasn't really changed since they started rebuilding, though."

Izuku comes to a stop at the end of a street, and you feel your chest restrict at the sight. What he's looking at, and now what you're looking at, is the rubble of what was once a very familiar house. You can almost see the house that used to stand there, simple and unassuming but so much like home. You can almost see a younger sibling running out of the door, one of the few remaining things standing among the rubble.

"[Name]?" 

Izuku watches as you step forward, almost in a trance as you stand in the rubble and trace your fingers along what's left of the walls, what used to be a living room, still with a dusty old chair sitting near a fireplace in near-perfect condition.

"[name]? Are you okay?" Izuku asks, following you into the remains of the house.

"What do you think happened to the people who used to live here?" you ask, voice quiet. Quiet even for the you that's timid, even for the you that's waiting for everything to go wrong again.

He frowns. "There was no one willing to rebuild this house. I remember hearing the daughter was dragged away aboard an Imperial ship, but I never heard anything about the rest of the family."

A sudden bark snaps both of you out of your somber mood, followed shortly by your own shriek as a large, fluffy dog tackles you to the ground. "H-hey! Get off of me!" you whine, pushing the torrent of fur and drool off so you can sit up.

"Are you alright?" Izuku asks as he helps you up, brushing dust off you carefully.

"Harley! Harley, where did you run off to?" a familiar voice calls. A painful, familiar girl enters the room—you know her face, know her voice too well. You let your hair fall in your face and pull your jacket around your shoulders, keeping your eyes locked on the dog. "Oh? What are you two pirates doing in the old [surname] house? There's nothing here for you."

Izuku steps forward. Looking at his back, you almost feel calm. "Sorry, my friend wanted to explore a bit. We didn't mean to intrude."

The girl sighs—you can't remember her name. Why can't you remember her name? "Sorry about Harley. His family owned this place, so I think he gets protective of it."

"What happened to his family?" you ask, instinctively forcing your voice into a lower tone than normal.

She frowns, eyes roaming the mottled walls, the broken-down furniture. "My best friend and her family used to live here. We're not sure where they are now, honest. They all got taken away or killed during an Empire raid."

Your stomach flips. "I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe they're still alive out there." Harley jumps up, placing his paws on your waist and barking. You pet his head to soothe him.

"We've got graves for all of them. Everyone knows no one comes back after the Empire takes 'em, after all. There's no bodies for them, but we left this house up to honor them. A reminder, I guess. Of what we're fightin' for."

But I came back, you want to say. I'm here, not in a grave, not fallen into the sky. I'm here.

You don't respond. Izuku apologizes to the girl again, and when she goes to leave, Harley whines and stays by your side.

"Harley, come on," she insists. Harley whines again, licking your hand and following her to the door. The large dog pauses, looking back at you with sad eyes, before finally turning and leaving.

~

The crew stays in the town overnight. You find yourself sleepless and restless as you stare at the ceiling of the inn. You need a better view if you're going to relax.

You throw on your clothes and go for a walk.

The night is cool, and although you've grown a little dependent on Izuku's presence, these streets are familiar. You know why, now, without a degree of doubt.

You lived here once. Your feet take you, aimlessly, but perhaps not so aimlessly, to the orchard, without need for lights or a map. It's intrinsic to you—you never had much cause to visit the orchard itself, but you can almost remember making this walk before, the memory brushing against your fingertips. A hundred and twenty breaths finds you standing in a secluded overlook filled with fruit trees, each tree bearing a plaque with a name and age.

Natural headstones.

The headstones bear fruit. The fruit feeds the town for free, and, thanks to the Empire raid, there's likely enough fruit to trade, too. The dead are cremated, their ashes used to bolster the growth of the trees, and they continue to support the community while the community honors them.

Your grave is easy to find. It's the first among a stretch of trees of similar age, bearing [favorite fruit] even now. They're even ripe—you delicately pull one off, reading the plaque with a somber glance as you rub the fruit clean with your sleeve. 

[Full Name]

Age 24

Taken away in an Empire Raid.

With a sigh, you venture to the back of the orchard, where the overlook provides a beautiful view of the sky. The horizon stretches out endlessly, dotted occasionally with distant islands. You never dreamed you'd actually get to be part of that horizon someday. You're not sure you wanted it the way you eventually got it.

"I kinda thought I'd find you here."

You don't turn to greet him, leaning on the fencing with a sigh. "Izuku. Shouldn't you be getting some rest?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Me neither." You wonder if you should tell him. Surely Izuku could sort through the conflict bubbling in your heart. Instead, you offer him the [favorite fruit] you picked without an explanation. "Do you want to see the most peaceful place in town?"

"It's not the graveyard?" he asks. He accepts the fruit, slipping it into his pocket.

You shake your head. "No. There's a place to stargaze near here."

"Lead the way." He raises an eyebrow, expression almost not visible under the dark of night. The light of the moon guides you, and you take Izuku through a small cave not far from town. It leads out into a small grotto, not a sign of human life in sight, simply grass and the light of the moon and the stars filtering through an opening overhead. 

"Wow," he exhales, staring up at the sky. "This place is beautiful."

You nod. "Did you want to talk about what's keeping you up?"

"Well, for one thing, I got worried," he admits. "About you, I mean. Ah! N-not that you can't take care of yourself or anything like that. You've just been... Off, today. I was just gonna check on you, since you were off to sleep before most everyone got back from the tavern, but then you... Weren't there."

"Thanks for worrying about me." You take a seat in the grass, which quickly becomes laying down. Izuku lays on his back next to you, and you begin to watch the stars. "...can I ask you kind of a weird question?"

"Mm?"

"What... What do you want to do?" You're unsure of yourself even in asking the question, but you ask it all the same.

"R-right now, or in general?"

"In general."

He exhales a sigh, only the moon could tell you why, and answers thoughtfully. "I want to captain my own ship someday. Someday soon. Captain Yagi is amazing, but when I look at you and I look at towns like this, I can't help but feel like we need to do more. We may have stopped one ship in a raid, but how many more do you think there are?"

"Thousands," you answer. "Tens of thousands, even."

"I want to get my own ship, and take out the problem from the top. The Empire hurts so many people, more than it helps."

"I'd go with you," you say. 

He sighs. "I don't think I'd like to risk you like that. Are you sure you'd be able to handle it?"

"I'm strong, you know. Usually, the people they take don't survive, right? They never return to their hometowns. But I'm here. I returned."

The smallest gasp leaves him, eyes flicking to you. "Are you saying—"

You nod quietly. "This isn't the first time I've been here. I know these streets, know these people. They even planted a grave for me, with my name on it."

"[name], that's great! You can finally go home, you can—"

"I don't want to."

And there it is.

Just saying the words feels like a punch to the gut, but for some reason, you keep going. "You've been so kind to me, always looking out for me, teaching me how to fit in to the crew and act like a pirate. You've helped me a lot, and my days are better because you are always in them. I don't want to go back. My family was taken by the Empire, and I... I don't have anything to go back to. I don't even remember who I was the last time I was here."

"[name]..."

You drag your eyes from the stars to Izuku, sighing as you find within yourself what you need to admit—to yourself, to him, to the world as you know it.

"I want to stay with you. I want to sail the world with you, fight back against the Empire that ruined my life but gave me a new one at your side. I don't remember much about myself, but I know I always longed for adventure. And now adventure's here, but the Captain probably wants me to return to my home. I don't belong in a sleepy little harbor rebuilding from the rubble, Izuku. I belong in the skies."

He's silent for a long moment. When he speaks, one warm hand searches for yours, fingers slotting among your own with a gentle squeeze. "H-how do you mean you want to stay with me?

"I'd follow you to the depths of the sky, to the farthest reaches, if only you'll let me." You squeeze his hand back. "Not because you're the one who eventually saved me. You're an amazing person. One who cares. I don't know if you'll ever stop caring, not before you die. I'll stay by your side in whatever capacity you'll have me."

"T-then... Can I kiss you?" He props himself up on one elbow, moonlight casting an almost ethereal glow on him.

You nod, and he closes the distance between you, letting go of your hand to gently caress your cheek. 

One small kiss turns to two. Two quickly becomes uncountable, until you're melting and gasping beneath him, his lips trailing your jaw, your neck, along the neckline of the jacket you're wearing (his jacket, always his jacket), until he's forced to pause.

"How far do you want to take this?" he whispers, as if there's any reason to keep quiet. 

You press a sweet kiss to his lips, threading a hand through his hair. "Didn't I already say that I'd follow wherever you'll lead me?"

Tags: @tooloudarts​ @sapid-rose​ @xxangelpridexx​ @birds-have-teeth​ @icythotsenpai @warmchoccymilk @wesparklebitch @izoodles​ @fujimoribaby​ @my-bnha-things​ @denise-the-death-goddess​ @themerpenguin​ @sincerebubbles​ @fudobaby​

[maxbegone]

AND WE ARE BACK! 

Part two of the Schitt’s Creek Community Fic Rec is here! This time, we focused on celebrating our favorite AU’s! Once again, this is dedicated with love to the the authors of this community! Every participant chose one AU (which was a little hard to do for some) to share and why they enjoyed it.

Thank you to everyone who submitted!

@bestwisheswarmestregards​ // @brighter-than-sunshine​ // @danieljradcliffe​ // @devilstelephone​ // @fishyspots​ // @imargaery​ // @justwaiting23​ // @patrickbrewsky​ // @rockinhamburger​ // @roguebabyinyourstore​ // @rosebuddsmotel​ // @stuck-on-your-heart​ // @the-13th-wheel​ // @thedidipickles​ // @thisbuildinghasfeelings​ // @yourbuttervoicedbeau​

And a very special thank you to anyone who has ever written anything in this community! 

Everything is posted below the cut, and you can check out part one here! 

**As always, if I missed an author’s tumblr handle, please let me know! 

@bestwisheswarmestregards​

Odd Man Rush by @samwhambam​

It’s David and Patrick and Hockey! Three of my favorite things! Also the ending is one of my favorite endings. It’s so sweet! It’s part of the series score and all of the stories are so cute but this one is my favorite!

@brighter-than-sunshine​

Thanks For Choosing Bagged! by dinnfameron

I love this one because the dialogue is so adorable, and true to David and Patrick! I can totally see the characters getting involved in something like this, like a different version of a rom-com.

@danieljradcliffe​

Going Down by concannonfodder

This is one of the best stories of NYC!David and recently out Patrick while they're both trying to find themselves. It's beautifully written and my favourite part is that each chapter switches between David and Patrick's POV. It does a great job of highlighting the aspects of their personalities that we know and love but shows them to us in a new light.

@devilstelephone​

sustineo by @rockinhamburger​

The contemporary art discussions between Patrick and David are interesting and important to the story. Patrick still cares for and emotionally connects with David In a world that is so different than Schitt’s Creek. I liked that Sebastian Raine was the evil force without being included as a character.

@fishyspots​

Welcome to Cabaret by @vivianblakesunrisebay​

It's lovely from start to finish! In this 'verse, Christmas World didn't pull out, so David didn't get the lease for the general store. Instead, he gets roped into helping Moira with Cabaret, and meets Patrick (kind of) through that. I love the way this author writes. The dialogue is in-character, and the plot is wonderful and pulls out moments from canon and reimagines them in some truly inspired ways. I'm such a fan of all of this author's works; this was the first one I read, and it remains my favorite.

@imargaery​

David.; or, a Tale of Misapplied Sense by Siria

A Jane Austen D&P AU and it is BRILLIANT. If you're an Austen fan, you will be able to immediately pick up on how well this author adapted Austen's style, wit, character descriptions, and ability to whack you over the head with romance when you're not even ready for it yet. Siria is a very experienced fanfic writer, but writes for many fandoms, so I think that's maybe why it doesn't have that many hits? I'm so glad I clicked on it. I want to wrap myself up in this story. I want to make a podfic out of it. I want to put it on a t-shirt and wear it every day. Also, it's in a regency AU where homophobia isn't a thing, so you don't even have to worry about that. I want to tell you more, but that would spoil it. Just read the damn thing and thank me later.

@justwaiting23​

You Were the Ocean, I Was Just a Stone by @al-ex-an-d-er-hamiltons​ 

The image of a curly haired fisherman Patrick is enough but this whole fic is such a sweet concept. Their interactions in this are so reminiscent of the show but also so different because they already know each other vaguely, and I come back to this fic over and over just because it's the perfect mix of angsty miscommunication and fluff.

@maxbegone​

Known and Be Known by ahurston

As someone who tends to lean toward canon/canon-divergent stories, this was a refreshing take on an AU. Beautifully written and wonderfully raw, ahurston conveyed the vulnerabilities between both David and Patrick so wonderfully. “The mortifying ordeal of being known,” personified in fanfiction format. With humor and some wonderfully hot scenes peppered throughout, this fic was just brilliant from start to finish. I love when authors explore Patrick's insecurities and vulnerabilities - they aren't written about as often as David's are. I implore you to read this, if you're able.

@patrickbrewsky​

Bound by Symmetry by barelypink

They say write what you know. I instead read what I know. David is the accidentally fantastic teacher we all wished we'd had in high school, and some of us wish/hope we are or might be one day. This fic is a great exploration of combining everything David knows he is (creative, bright, v.knowledgeable about art) and all the things he thinks he's not (empathetic, a role model, great with kids, selfless, kind, & big hearted) The selling point quote: "And it feels good, David realizes, to have a job that means something, a purpose beyond himself. A place where he feels like he belongs, just like his students." (David Rose proves he is both a good and nice person).

@rockinhamburger​

Blackbird, Fly by distractivate 

This is a post-apocalyptic story about love, connection, and hope, with a central theme of growth from destruction. I could not put this one down; I read it feverishly in one sitting, desperate to soak up every word. I love this fic because it is what I like to think of as an exemplar for transformative works (one of ao3’s top values). I love the way the fic stretches toward the light in the dark. It makes me think: about the quintessential elements of these characters, what remains the same despite changed circumstance, and what inevitably shifts when these characters we know and love are faced with a situation far outside their experience or comfort. This story likely hits differently in 2020, when post-apocalyptic narratives feel much less distant than they might have just a year ago. And yet, all the more reason to read an incredible work about hope and resilience and transformation.

@roguebabyinyourstore​

Fifteen Hundred Miles by MoreHuman

Where do I even begin with this fic? I was at first skeptical about what reason David Rose would have to willingly subject himself to a trek through the wilderness out of his own volition. Well I’m so glad I ignored that admittedly stupid part of me because this is one of the mostly beautifully crafted stories I have ever read. Patrick and David are individually on their own journeys of self-discovery, but the way they help each other find what they sought... It’s breathtaking. Their feelings for each other bloom so organically over their time together that despite the circumstances laid out before them, the miles that they stumble and walk and run bring them miles closer to each other. Closer to the love that they both didn’t know they needed. The characters come alive and are identical to their canon selves. The dialogue and banter are spot on David and Patrick. The writing itself is superb. The tropes are incredible, the pining and *oh no there’s only one tent.* The slow burn is tantalizing but in a way that feels true to a genuine love story. The way the setting somehow breathes in tune with the characters, the way they leave messages behind in the trail register—conveying more than they can utter aloud— and the way their families communicate with them throughout their time on the trail through letters. All of the elements of this story ground it in universal truth, in feelings that are not only relatable, believable but demand to be felt. I can wax poetic until I am blue in the face, but really... Read this story. And then reread it a million times.

@rosebuddsmotel​

I Carry These Heart-Shapes Only to You by @ladyflowdi​ and @ships-to-sail​

There are over 180,000 words in this WWII AU, but not one of those words is wasted. It is gorgeous in its prose, and incredibly romantic without romanticizing the very real pain and tragedies of the era in which it exists. It's not an easy read by any means, but it's the kind of cathartic emotional journey that is more than worth it in the end.

@stuck-on-your-heart​ 

kiss from a rose by mihaly ( @davidroseshusband​ )

What can I say about this very special fic that would do it justice? In this story, Alexis stars in a Bachelorette-style dating show and it’s every bit as brilliant as it sounds. On top of the incredible characterization, there are little surprises at every turn, there’s pining, and of course, there’s love. Secret love, even. This fic is truly addicting – I promise you won’t be able to stop once you start reading, and it will leave you feeling so satisfied (and if you’re like me, a little misty)!!!

@the-13th-wheel​

Hold Me Like You’ll Never Let Me Go by @mooodlighting​

It is a wonderful short AU where Patrick and David where they meet at an airport after they get snowed in. It is cute, there is longing and pining that just make it a wonderful read!

@thedidipickles​

Beneath the Winter Snow by Distractivate

The writing is so utterly gorgeous all the way throughout that I frequently needed to take breaks to breathe. The author *perfectly* builds an Olympic world that I can totally see my favorite characters inhabiting, and the resolution is gorgeous. All of Distractivate's AUs are amazing, but this one still stands out.

@thisbuildinghasfeelings​

How Do We Get Back by @unfolded73​

This one deals with a literal alternate universe, which is the first thing I loved about it because I had never read a fic quite like it before. It's a beautifully written 60,000+ word masterpiece that definitely makes me feel ALL the feelings. In addition, it is absolutely riveting. I could not stop reading until I got to the end.

@yourbuttervoicedbeau​

Make It To Me by figmentof ( @rosesdavid )

Epistolatory fic is SO hard to pull off and the author does such an incredible job with the way the characters shine through even though we only see them interact via text message. This fic is my comfort food and I reread it regularly <3

Anonymous Recs:

Just Breathe by olivebranchesandredwine

I love this one because it's got Patrick as a yoga teacher (hot!) and shows David being proactive about anxiety and it's just such a lovely story.

Shall I Stay? by alladaydream ( @maybewecandreamalittle​​ )

This is so worth the 100k wordcount. 18-year-old David and Patrick sweetly leaning into first love, a lot of angst and pining in the middle that allow them both to heal and grow, and a heartfelt reconciliation. Plus, two bonus cherries on top with artist!David and a beautiful epilogue in which they (spoiler) live happily ever after. The tone and pacing of this fic is so good, and I always go back to it when I want to read something comforting.

Your Heart is Keeping Time with Me by @yourbuttervoicedbeau​

I haven't seen 50 First Dates, but this fic is better than the movie could ever be. The author's writing is so beautiful and her David who has amnesia and her Patrick who wants to help him are just PERFECT. I want more and more and more of this.

Once again, thank you to everyone who participated and thank you to every single person who has written something in this community! It would be wonderful to do a part three, but for now, enjoy some alternate universe fics! 

[themackenzies]

Last night I dreamed about making soap. I haven’t made soap yet, myself, but I’d been scrubbing the floor yesterday, and the smell of the soap was still on my hands when I went to bed. It’s a nasty smell, something between acid and ashes, with a horrible faint stink from the hog fat, like something that’s been dead for a long time.

I was pouring water into a kettle of wood ash, to make lye, and it was turning to lye even as I poured. Big clouds of poisonous smoke were coming up from the kettle; it was yellow, the smoke.

Da brought me a big bowl of suet, to mix with the lye, and there were babies’ fingers in it. I don’t remember thinking there was anything strange about this—at the time.

Last night I dreamed that I shaved my legs. I was using Daddy’s razor and his shaving cream, and I was thinking that he’d complain when he found out, but I wasn’t worried. The shaving cream came in a white can with red letters, and it said Old Spice on the label. I don’t know if there ever was shaving cream like that, but that’s what Daddy always smelled of, Old Spice aftershave and cigarette smoke. He didn’t smoke, but the people he worked with did, and his jackets always smelled like the air in the living room after a party. Once Gayle told me that she’d gone out with Chris and hadn’t had time to shave her legs, and she spent the whole evening trying to keep him from putting his hand on her knee, for fear he’d feel the stubble. Afterward, I never shaved my legs without thinking of that, and I’d run my fingers up my thigh, to see whether I could feel anything there, or if it was okay to stop shaving at my kneecaps.

Last night I dreamed that it was raining. Hardly surprising, since it was raining, and has been for two days. When I went out to the privy this morning, I had to jump over a huge puddle by the door, and sank up to the ankles in the soft spot by the blackberries.

We went to bed last night with the rain pounding on the roof. It was so nice to curl up with Roger and be warm in our bed, after a wet, chilly day. Raindrops fell down the chimney and hissed in the fire. We told each other stories from our youths—maybe that’s where the dream came from, thinking about the past.

There wasn’t much to the dream, just that I was looking out a window in Boston, watching the cars go past, throwing up big sheets of water from their wheels, and hearing the swoosh and rush of their tires on the wet streets. I woke up still hearing that sound; it was so clear in my mind that I actually went to the window and peeked out, half expecting to see a busy street, full of cars rushing through the rain. It was a shock to see spruce trees and chestnuts and wild grass and creepers, and hear nothing but the soft patter of raindrops bouncing and trembling on the burdock leaves.

Everything was so vivid a green, so lush and overgrown, that it seemed like a jungle, or an alien planet—a place I’d never been, with nothing I recognized, though in fact I see it every day.

All day, I’ve heard the secret rush of tires in the rain, somewhere behind me.

Last night I dreamed of driving my car. It was my own blue Mustang, and I was driving fast down a winding road, through the mountains—these mountains. I never have driven through these mountains, though I have been through the mountain woodlands in upstate New York. It was definitely here, though; I knew it was the Ridge.

It was so real. I can still feel my hair snapping in the wind, the wheel in my hands, the vibration of the motor and the rumble of tires on the pavement. But that sensation—as well as the car—is impossible. It can’t happen now, anywhere but in my head. And yet there it is, embedded in the cells of my memory, as real as the privy outside, waiting to be called back to life at the flick of a synapse.

That’s another oddness. Nobody knows what a synapse is, except me and Mama and Roger. What a strange feeling; as though we three share all kinds of secrets.

Anyway, that particular bit—the driving—is traceable to a known memory. But what about the dreams, equally vivid, equally real, of things I do not know of my waking self. Are some dreams the memories of things that haven’t happened yet?

Last night I dreamed that I made love with Roger. It was great; for once I wasn’t thinking, wasn’t watching from the outside, like I always do. In fact, I wasn’t even aware of myself for a long time. There was just this … very wild, exciting stuff, and I was part of it and Roger was part of it, but there wasn’t any him or me, just us. The funny thing is that it was Roger, but I didn’t think of him like that. Not by his name—not that name. It was like he had another name, a secret, real one—but I knew what it was.

(I’ve always thought everybody has that kind of name, the kind that isn’t a word. I know who I am—and whoever it is, her name isn’t “Brianna.” It’s me, that’s all. “Me” works fine as a substitute for what I mean—but how do you write down someone else’s secret name?)

I knew Roger’s real name, though, and that seemed to be why it was working. And it really was working, too; I didn’t think about it or worry about it, and I only thought toward the very end, Hey, it’s happening! And then it did happen and everything dissolved and shook and throbbed—Well, none of the books I’ve ever read could describe it, either!

I had my eyes closed—in the dream, that is—and I was lying there with little electric shocks still going off, and I opened my eyes and it was Stephen Bonnet inside me. It was such a shock it woke me up. I felt like I’d been screaming—my throat was all raw—but I couldn’t have been, because Roger and the baby were sound asleep. I was hot all over, so hot I was sweating, but I was cold, too, and my heart was pounding. It took a long time before things settled down enough for me to go back to sleep; all the birds were carrying on. That’s what finally let me go back to sleep, in fact—the birds. Da—and Daddy, too, come to think of it—told me that the jays and crows give alarm calls, but songbirds stop singing when someone comes near, so when you’re in a forest, you listen for that. With so much racket in the trees by the house, I knew it was safe—nobody was there.

I tried to forget it, but that didn’t work. It kept coming back and coming back into my mind, so I finally went out by myself to work in the herb shed. Mama keeps Jemmy when I’m there because he gets in things, so I knew I could be alone. So I sat down in the middle of all the hanging bunches and closed my eyes and tried to remember every single thing about it, and think to myself about the different parts, “That’s okay,” or “That’s just a dream.” Because Stephen Bonnet scared me, and I felt sick when I thought of the end—but I really wanted to remember how. How it felt, and how I did it, so maybe I can do it again, with Roger. But I keep having this feeling that I can’t, unless I can remember Roger’s secret name.

Last night I dreamed about my friend Deborah. She used to make money doing Tarot readings in the Student Union; she’d always offer to do one for me, for free, but I wouldn’t let her. Sister Marie Romaine told us in the fifth grade that Catholics aren’t allowed to do divination—we weren’t to touch Ouija boards or Tarot cards or crystal balls, because things like that are seductions of the D-E-V-I-L—she always spelled it out like that, she’d never say the word. I’m not sure where the Devil came into it, but somehow I couldn’t bring myself to let Deb do readings for me. She was, last night, though, in my dream.

I used to watch her do it for other people; the Tarot cards fascinated me—maybe just because they seemed forbidden. But the names were so cool—the Major Arcana, the Minor Arcana; Knight of Pentacles, Page of Cups, Queen of Wands, King of Swords. The Empress, the Magician. And the Hanged Man. Well, what else would I dream about? I mean, this was not a subtle dream, no doubt about it. There it was, right in the middle of the spread of cards, and Deb was telling me about it.

“A man is suspended by one foot from a pole laid across two trees. His arms, folded behind his back, together with his head, form a triangle with the point downward; his legs form a cross. To an extent, the Hanged Man is still earthbound, for his foot is attached to the pole.”

I could see the man on the card, suspended permanently halfway between heaven and earth. That card always looked odd to me—the man didn’t seem to be at all concerned, in spite of being upside-down and blind-folded. Deb kept scooping up the cards and laying them out again, and that one kept coming up in every spread.

“The Hanged Man represents the necessary process of surrender and sacrifice,” she said. “This card has profound significance,” she said, and she looked at me and tapped her finger on it. “But much of it is veiled; you have to figure out the meaning for yourself. Self-surrender leads to transformation of the personality, but the person has to accomplish his own regeneration.”

Transformation of the personality. That’s what I’m afraid of, all right. I liked Roger’s personality just fine the way it was! Well … rats. I don’t know how much the D-E-V-I-L has to do with it, but I am sure that trying to look too far into the future is a mistake. At least right now.

Last night I dreamed that we were lying under a big rowan tree, Roger and I. It was a beautiful summer day, and we were having one of those conversations we used to have all the time, about things we missed. Only the things we were talking about were there on the grass between us. I said I’d sell my soul for a Hershey bar with almonds, and there it was. I slipped the outer wrapper off, and I could smell the chocolate. I unfolded the white paper wrapper inside and started eating the chocolate, but it was the paper we were talking about, then—the wrapper.

Roger picked it up and said what he missed most was loo-paper; this was too slick to wipe your arse with. I laughed and said there wasn’t anything complicated about toilet paper—people could make it now, if they wanted to. There was a roll of toilet paper on the ground; I pointed at it, and a big bumblebee flew down and grabbed the end of it and flew off, unfurling the toilet paper in its wake. It flew in and out, weaving it through the branches overhead.

Then Roger said it was blasphemy to think about wiping yourself with paper—it is, here. Mama writes in tiny letters when she does her case-notes, and when Da writes to Scotland he writes on both sides of the page, and then he turns it sideways and writes across the lines, so it looks like lattice-work. Then I could see Da, sitting on the ground, writing a letter to Aunt Jenny on the toilet paper, and it was getting longer and longer and the bee was carrying it up into the air, flying off toward Scotland with it.

I use more paper than anyone. Aunt Jocasta gave me some of her old sketchbooks to use, and a whole quire of watercolor paper—but I feel guilty when I use them, because I know how expensive it is. I have to draw, though. A nice thing about doing this portrait for Mrs. Sherston—since I’m earning money, I feel like I can use a little paper.

Then the dream changed and I was drawing pictures of Jemmy, with a #2B yellow pencil. It said “Ticonderoga” on it in black letters, like the ones we used to use in school. I was drawing on toilet paper, though, and the pencil kept ripping through it, and I was so frustrated that I wadded up a bunch in my hand. Then it went into one of those boring, uncomfortable dreams where you’re wandering around looking for a place to go to the bathroom and can’t find one—and finally you wake up enough to realize that you do have to go to the bathroom.

I can’t decide whether I’d rather have the Hershey bar, the toilet paper, or the pencil. I think the pencil. I could smell the freshly-sharpened wood on the point, and feel it between my fingers, and my teeth. I used to chew my pencils, when I was little. I still remember what it felt like to bite down hard and feel the paint and wood give, just a little, and munch my way up and down the length of the pencil, until it looked like a beaver had been gnawing on it. I was thinking about that, this afternoon. It made me feel sad that Jem won’t have a new yellow pencil, or a lunchbox with Batman on it, when he goes to school—if he ever does go to school.

Roger’s hands are still too bad to hold a pen. And now I know that I don’t want pencils or chocolate, or even toilet paper. I want Roger to talk to me again.

Then I woke up and I really was cold. Roger had pulled all the covers off and rolled himself up in them, and there was a terrible draft blowing in under the door. I nudged him and yanked on the blankets, but I couldn’t get them loose and I didn’t want to make a lot of noise and wake Jemmy up. Finally, I got up and got my cloak off the peg and went back to sleep under that. Roger got up before me this morning and went out; I don’t think he noticed that he’d left me in the cold.

Last night I dreamed that Roger was leaving. I’ve been dreaming about his going for a week, ever since Da suggested it. Suggested—ha. Like Moses brought down the Ten Suggestions from Mount Sinai. In the dream, Roger was packing things in a big sack, and I was busy mopping the floor. He kept getting in my way, and I kept pushing the sack aside to get at another part of the floor. It was filthy, with all sorts of stains and sticky glop. There were little bones scattered around, like Adso had eaten some little animal there, and the bones kept getting caught up in my mop. I don’t want him to go, but I do, too. I hear all the things he isn’t saying; they echo in my head. I keep thinking that when he’s gone, it will be quiet.

I can still see every last thing in the china cabinet in the living room: Mama’s great-grandfather’s hand-painted cake stand (he was an artist, she said, and won a competition with that cake stand, a hundred years ago), the dozen crystal goblets that Daddy’s mother left him, along with the cut-glass olive dish and the cup and saucer hand-painted with violets and gilt rims.

I was standing in front of it, putting away the china—but we didn’t keep the china in that cabinet; we kept it in the shelf over the oven—and the water was overflowing from the sink in the kitchen, and running out across the floor, puddling round my feet. Then it started to rise, and I was sloshing back and forth to the kitchen, kicking up the water so it sparkled like the cut-glass olive dish. The water got deeper and deeper, but nobody seemed to be worried; I wasn’t. The water was warm, hot, in fact, I could see steam rising off it.

That’s all there was to the dream—but when I got up this morning, the water in the basin was so cold I had to warm water in a pan on the fire before I washed Jemmy. All the time I was checking the water on the fire, I kept remembering my dream, and all those gallons and gallons of hot, running water.

What I wonder is, these dreams I have about then—they seem so vivid and detailed; more than the dreams I have about now. Why do I see things that don’t exist anywhere except inside my brain? What I wonder about the dreams is—all the new inventions people think up—how many of those things are made by people like me—like us? How many “inventions” are really memories, of the things we once knew? And—how many of us are there?

Twelve Days of Outlander - Ten Blogs a Posting Dreams a Journaling

[mcwriting]

starstruck (1)

Before anyone says ANYTHING, this is absolutely 100% no doubt about it inspired by @insane-less “Not a fan” because I absolutely loved the chapters that were written and Starstruck is one my favorite standalone DCOMs. Standalone, of course, meaning a film with no sequels and not based off a TV show.

There will obviously be some similarities to not a fan just because they’re based off of the same film, but I’m trying to keep it pretty original. I haven’t read not a fan in a while and did not while I was writing this to keep it authentic, though I did read over the starstruck plot a little bit.

Going to be multi part. I realized about halfway through writing that it was almost 4k words and I hate reading things that long in one sitting, plus I still have to finish it lol. As of now, it is half-written so this should be a quick release story. AND I’ll actually try to finish it (unlike a flight to remember rip)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

                                               Important info:

Fandom: Tommo Holland 

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Setting: LA in general

Word Count: 2185 (oof)

Warnings: some “bad” words. Very mild. Mention of an injury.

Rating: K+ now, maybe T later. Haven’t decided.

Background: um well it’s based on Starstruck (2010) and it's a Tom holland fic so yeah. 

B/f/n: your best friend’s name 

                              __________________________________

“I’m not going with you to see Tom Holland, and that’s final!” You exclaim to your annoyingly persistent best friend.

“Come on, y/n! I mean, what can you even have against him?” She pleads.

“Well for starters he looks like he’s 12, he’s not that good at acting, and he just rubs me the wrong way. I don’t know how to explain it,” you state.

“Uh first, he’s 22 and absolutely gorgeous, second, when have you even seen one of his movies, and third, he’s a great guy! Not to mention he’s a trained dancer like you!”

“Just because he happens to dance doesn’t mean I’m gonna suddenly fall in love with him. Plus, how do you know I’m not going out tomorrow?”

“Y/n, there’s literally no way you’re going out because I’m the only person you go to parties with,” b/f/n said.

“Okay fine, but give me one good, solid reason I should even consider going to this Spider-Man premiere,” you say, arms folded.

“Well it’s not like Tom’s the only star that’ll be there,” she explained, “Zendaya will be walking, too.”

You perked up a little bit and b/f/n waggled her eyebrows at you.

“Fine, I’ll go. But only for Zendaya.”

                             __________________________________

“B/f/n it’s like a million degrees out here!” you complained. Even though you wore the shortest shorts you owned and pulled back your hair, the LA heat on top of the millions of teenage girls squished up around you was making you uncomfortable.

The two of you had been able to get there early enough to be right in the front at the barriers, giving you a clear view of the action.

ugh.

While your friend rambled on about Tom and the movie and her excitement, you pulled out your phone and mumbled, “Tell me when Zendaya comes out here.”

You had tons of DM’s on instagram, solely from the fact that b/f/n had posted a video on her story (where you tastefully lowered your sunglasses at the camera before flipping it off) and people couldn’t help but comment how “lucky” you were and how you should be “excited.”

Finally, the time came where the cast and crew began walking, and you stood apathetically, only cheering and taking pictures when Zendaya came out. You even put your sunglasses on top of your head to see her in the plain light.

After her colleagues came to the theatre, a gorgeous Audi E-tron concept convertible came down the road slowly, cheers picking up as you realized that Tom Holland was riding in the back with a blonde guy you indicated to be named Harrison from b/f/n’s screaming. 

Seeing his features in person, you were still… underwhelmed. Sure you could see why people thought he was attractive, but he was just another guy. You didn’t cheer as he came up, waving to the crowd.

He turned to your side to wave when his eyes met yours. Undoubtedly, his smile faltered for a second before picking back up again, brighter than before. You leaned into your best friend and asked,

“Did you see that?” in an almost offended tone. Who was he to look at you like that? The only reply you received was more screaming and “HE LOOKED OVER HERE CAN YOU BELIEVE!!?!” to which you rolled your eyes.

He eyes met yours again and you looked away, annoyed that he seemed to be singling you out of all the people there.

After exiting the car, he ran down the line shaking hands and taking a few pictures. Next thing you knew, he was taking b/f/n’s phone to have a selfie. She threw an arm around your shoulder and exclaimed,

“Get in, y/n!”

You subconsciously smiled and with that he headed towards his cast, saying,

“Make sure to tag me in that!” as he left.

“I swear if you even think about posting that…” you threatened, earning a smug smile from the friend you were now prepared to disown.

                             __________________________________

Your instagram was blowing up as you headed to the dance studio. Unfortunately for you, the person you still chose to call best friend had posted the photo after all, tagging you and Tom in the selfie. It had been seen and reposted by fan accounts, and many of those fans were following and commenting and messaging you about it.

In your opinion, the picture sucked. Not because it was a bad picture or that you looked terrible.

The problem was that you looked great. 

It was somehow one of the most flattering pictures anyone had ever taken of you and it angered you to think it gave an impression that you even cared in the slightest about Tom Holland.

As you stared at it longer, you wished you had either covered your face or gone without smiling. SOMETHING to show how little you cared.

You finally arrived and went to a private studio, deciding to let dance drown out the thoughts and help you channel your frustration.

You warmed up and then decided to practice an emotional piece you previously choreographed for an upcoming show. As you danced, stress flowed out in the form of tears as raw emotion emitted from your movements. 

You finished the dance exhausted yet glad that you had been able to channel everything into it, until you heard a male voice quietly say,

“Wow.”

Your head whipped around and a flash of anger hit when your eyes once again met those of Tom Holland’s as he stood in the doorway. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked coldly, mad that the seeming bane of your existence had just watched you pour out your heart on the dance floor, crying and sweaty and vulnerable.

“I, uh, well… I was invited to tour the studio and happened to see you in here, and you were incredible, breathtaking, really. You’re the girl from the premiere, y/n?”

“Thanks but this was private. And why do you care who I am? I was only at the premiere because my friend forced me to go.”

He stepped forward.

“I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any problems. I figured you were a fan but I guess I misjudged…”

“Look man,” you began walking backwards towards your bag, “I was there for Zendaya and my friend. Nothing against you, but I'm just not one of your little teenage girl obsessors. Now if you’ll excuse m-”

And that's when you slipped and hit the floor. The wind was knocked out of you and your head had banged onto the ground, pain pulsing around the area.

“Woah, darling, are you alright?” Tom asked, rushing to kneel by your side.

“Don’t call me darling, and help me get to a doctors office.”

                             __________________________________

“Well, Ms. y/l/n, looks like you don’t have a concussion, but make sure to rest up for a couple days and take some painkillers and you’ll be in ship-shape,” the ER doctor informed you. 

You went to the check-out desk and walked around to waiting area, where a few people were pointing and whispering at Tom, who was nervously bouncing his knee. He stood up when he saw you.

“Y/n! What did they sa-”

“Just come with me spider boy. I’ll tell you while you drive me home,” you said, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him out the door.

                             __________________________________

“Shit,” Tom exclaimed under his breath after a few moments of awkward silence. 

“Get down, now,” he commanded.

“Excuse me?”

“Get. Down. We’re being followed”

You ducked down before whisper-yelling a “what are you talking about? Are you insane?”

He asked what to do since it was obvious that whoever was behind you wasn’t planning on going away any time soon. An idea popped into your head.

“Do you trust me?” You pleaded, almost kind and soft for the first time to him, “I might have an idea.”

“Anything to get us out of this.”

You and Tom threw some sunglasses on and you made a makeshift headscarf with a ballet skirt for yourself. You had him drive near your neighborhood in circles for a bit when the car finally passed you, trying to get pictures to sell.

You ducked and Tom sped off onto a side street towards your house. Thankfully, your parents had recently installed garage doors that connected to your phone, and your car was in the shop, so Tom was able to pull into your spot and you shut the door behind him.

“That was close,” he breathed, putting a hand on his heart, and you too felt your pulse racing.

“Now, we wait,” you said. 

“Alright, do you want to go in so you can rest? You look exhausted.”

“NO. I mean, uh, we can’t. My best friend is supposed to be coming over today and she’s the one who’s like, obsessed with you.”

“Can’t you cancel? You almost got a concussion after all.” 

“I guess, but my parents might not be happy knowing a random guy is in their house. How about I check the security cameras and see if the coast is clear?”

It wasn’t. Sitting across the street was the same car from earlier, one that definitely did not belong to your street, either. 

After sitting uncomfortably in the car for a half hour, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Let’s just go inside, but don’t make a big deal out of it.”

                             __________________________________

You yelled to your parents that a friend was staying the night as you snuck Tom up the stairs to your room.

“Staying the night?” he asked in his stupidly attractive accent as soon as you shut the door.

“Look, I hate this as much as you, but that pap or whoever he is probably won’t be leaving any time today. Since I’m being nice, I figured you could sleep on the floor or something. Don’t worry, I’ll find you blankets later.”

You sat on the foot of your bed and texted b/f/n, explaining that something had come up with dance and there was no way you could hang out. After a few minutes, you noticed that Tom hadn’t moved from standing by your door, and was quietly scanning the room.

“Are you gonna, like, sit down? You’re kinda making me nervous,” you stated awkwardly, glancing to the side.

“Oh, well, I didn’t want to be in the way and I know you don’t really want me here so I thought I’d stay over here. I’m fine, really.”

You rolled your eyes and patted the mattress next to you.

“Take a seat, bro. It’s gonna be a long night.”

                             __________________________________

You carefully carried some cokes and two plates of pizza into the room, where Tom was now seated comfortably on your bed. You had had the time to shower and change into clean clothes in the hour between coming home and dinner. He pocketed his phone and smiled upon seeing you.

“Here, let me help,” he offered, grabbing a plate and helping you set down the drinks.

“My parents were asking who was up here with me. I just told them you were a friend from dance and very shy.”

He chuckled and took a bite.

“Can I ask something?” You nodded. “Why exactly were you at the premiere the other day?”

You sighed and set down your pizza, explaining how b/f/n had coaxed you into coming.

“In all honesty, I probably would have said yes no matter what, I mean she’s my best friend after all, but I may have reconsidered if I knew this would be the outcome,” you laughed.

“Oh come on, you know you love me,” he joked back, prompting a look of slight disgust, another of many eye rolls, and a slight shove on the arm.

You continued talking well into the night, him explaining his story and you telling of your own life and aspirations. At some point you both lied back on the bed to continue talking and finally succumbed to exhaustion well into the early morning.

                             __________________________________

Sunlight streamed into your open curtains, blinding you as you awoke. You were confused as to why you weren’t underneath the covers and rolled over to find a famous person asleep on your bed. 

Your eyes widened and you moved to scoot out of the bed when he rolled over and inadvertently threw an arm over your side. Stuck under his muscular limb, you stayed still and closed your eyes, hoping he would eventually let go or wake up.

The faint remains of his cologne wafted to your nose and you couldn’t help but breathe it in. You relaxed further into his grip and stayed comfortable until you heard a buzz on the table next to you.

You decided to ignore it until it happened two more times. Finally, you decided to wiggle out of Tom’s grip and succeeded without waking him. You picked up the cell and noticed it was 10 a.m. and all three texts were from b/f/n.

                             __________________________________

Edited A/N: Omg I posted this once before then tried to edit my tags on mobile and it deleted EVERYTHING! Thank the Lord because I have the whole fic saved in my google drive (something I’ve never done until this fic) and I’m so glad it is. 

Anyways, there’s a part 2 linked at the top and part 3 is coming soon. Message me or ask to be in my tag list for this fic

[itsdanystormborn]

Sinbad no Bouken 182                      [Final Chapter]

This is only a fan translation, don’t forget to support the official releases of Snb and the MangaOne app if you can, and

►[Please don’t repost without giving credits. If you use this translation, don’t forget to share the link to this post!]◄

Thanks to @soreita for the raw! ^^

The final night “ The adventures of Sinbad”

Night 182 “The adventures of Sinbad”

 Page 1

 Narration:

King Sinbad founded the new kingdom of Sindria.

He became known as “The high king of the seven seas”, and several years went by quickly…

 The “Reim empire” on the west that still holds great influence.

And the “Kou empire” on the east that unified the three warn-torn countries.

The 2 major powers of east and west repeated aggressively invasive wars in order to expand their territory,

And their invasion deepened more and more…

   Page 2

Narration: In response to that, a remote country that had a tribute relationship with the three countries before the unification of the Kou empire, declared their adherence to the “seven seas alliance”

 TN: Takeru!! Haha

  Narration: The far east island-country “The kingdom of Kina” allied themselves with another nation once again.

  Page 3

…. Thus, the situation around the world was about to change little by little.

The former boy that headed towards the dream he had embraced….

 The final night “The adventures of Sinbad”  

TN: We see a ship on the seas…

Page 4

 The king of Sindria. Sinbad.

Page 5

Ja’far: It’s unusual for you, Sin.

To take the trouble to be on the deck…. Is something up?

 From the eight generals of the kingdom of Sindria. Ja’far.

 Sinbad: … Well,

Somehow, I feel a little nostalgic.

  Page 6

Sinbad: It’s been a long time since I’ve been on Balbadd, so…

I unconsciously started to remember the old days.

…

Ja’far: I see.

Sinbad:  The way you were when I met you, well, you had a foul tongue and your attitude was awful too, huh.

Well… From that, you have come this far and grown up well.

(Little Ja’far’s manuscript: Shut up!! Idiot. / Sin’s manuscript: I seriously mean it.)

 Ja’far: Wait…!! Please stop talking about old times!!

Ah, But what about you! Contrary to me, Who’s the one that has become careless since he became an adult?!

( Ja’far’s manuscript: mainly concerning the alcohol….)

Sinbad: drinking alcohol is adult’s behavior, Ja’far-kun.

Ja’far: I’m telling you to consider that there are limits!

 Ja’far’s manuscript: It’s always that what gets you into trouble!

Sinbad: WAHAHAHAA

Sinbad: but, when I think about it, it has been quite long time since those days.

  Page 7

Sinbad: I fought against you guys on Valefor’s “dungeon”, and then we became comrades and battled together….

And after that, we started trading in Reim and we launched our trading company…

We traveled across various countries, we met a lot of people and learned a great deal of things.

 We were nothing but small merchants, and thus, now we are…

The king of the “Kingdom of Sindria” and its minister.

 Page 8

Sinbad: A lot of things have happened to reach this point but,

All of that are irreplaceable experiences that made us become what we are today.

We’ve lost many things too, though…

 Ja’far: ….

….

Ja’far: But even so,

You moved forward.

You held on to a “dream” that no one could have materialized…

And became “King”.

 Page 9

Once, our country was destroyed, and when everyone was brokenhearted,

You guided everyone, and it’s undeniable that everything that we’ve been able to built up until this point, it’s thanks to you.

 Ja’far: I know it.

I know how many hardships you have overcome, all the troubles, the pain,

All you have gone through to build up everything we have this very day….

 Page 10

Ja’far: your “dream” is still on its way…

Let’s make it truth.

To make a “world” aiming towards true peace.

  Page 11

Sinbad: That’s right.

Rather, our “dream” starts from here on.

 Ja’far: Yes.

Anyhow, we are now heading towards Balbadd…

Since the demise of the previous king, there has been an internal disturbance,

And there are rumors that the citizens have been suffering due to the tyrannical rule of the current king.

In addition, strange situations have been happening.

we suddenly received an announcement of them discontinuing trade with our country the other day…

I can feel the hints of someone working from behind.

Sinbad: If this is something caused by that organization, we can’t overlook it…

Ja’far: …

Yeah.

If their plan is to raise up the abnormalities of the world, we must stop them without fail…

 Page 12

 Masrur: ….

Sin-san,

We’ll be arriving soon.

Sinbad: All right.

In order to make the world without conflict that we wish for…

 Sinbad: Let’s go!

To Balbadd….!!

 Page 13

Ja’far:

____ what?

Although You said those things just a while ago….

You’ve immediately gone to who knows where, haven’t you?

Sin!!

 Sin!!

Hey! Come here now!!

Masrur: …

(Masrur’s memories: Masrur, I’m gonna go drink for a little bit, please don’t say anything!)

 Page 14

People: Cheers!

Man: Well, Sir

You sure can drink, huh?

 (Background Manuscript: service people: service, here’s your drink. People: Thank you.)

 Sinbad: It’s been a long time since I’ve been in Balbadd. It’s become quite fun.

 Page 15

 Sinbad: Balbadd’s wine is certainly exceptional, huh.

Sir, can you give me once more cup? I came to this place because I wanted to drink a bit of this.

 (Sin SFX: “smile, smile”)

 Shopkeeper:  I’m sorry… but that was the last cup .

Lately, customs have risen up, and our stock of good alcohol has decreased…

Not only in our establishment, but apparently in all of Balbadd.

As a consequence, lately customer visits have been decreasing too.

…

Sinbad: …. Sir. In that case, can you bring in your most expensive liquor?

For every person in this place.

 Shopkeeper: What!!?

Sinbad: Something like not being able to drink delicious liquor…. There’s nothing as sad as that.

So, even if it’s just for this moment, I want you to enjoy it.

(Manuscript: specially now that economy is awful…)

 Page 16

Sinbad: It’s my treat today. Please enjoy!

 TN: Sinbad pays the shopkeeper, who apparently thinks so grateful for receiving so much money.

 Page 17

TN: Later, Sin is out of the bar with a bit of liquor, he sits alone near the outskirts of Balbadd.

  Page 18

 Sinbad: ….

Master, it’s been a long time.

I’m finally back.

although I’ve come this far, it took me quite a while…

Ah, this is bringing back memories. This is the wine I used to drink so much back in the old days!

(Manuscript: I took the left-over with me)

 ..

Since I’m already here, I thought about having a drink with… with you master, though it seems like it’s the last one.

We used to drink like this in the old days.

 Page 19

I’m truly grateful for everything you did for me master...               (TN: I’m in great debt to you/I owe you so much)

We didn’t know anything about trading or anything else,

And you taught us how to stablish a company and the ways of trading.

That time in Parthevia and that time I rebuilt my country too, you’ve guided me all along,

Thank you… so much.

….

Balbadd,

Might be different from when you were here.

 But still, I’ll help this country….

….

The country of the teacher that helped me so much….

……..

Without fail,

 Page 20

One way or another, I will definitely do it.

 …

…

TN: Cheers!

 Sinbad: hmm, it’s really tasty!

Yay, I’ll drink it all!

 ..

TN: Later…

Sinbad:

Uh, hmmm

 Page 21

David:

…..N

……. Bad

Sinbad

…….

 Sinbad:

…..

Who’s there?

 The voice that I can hear from time to time since that moment….

…..

Who are you?

….

David: I am you. Sinbad.

The only “Singularity” who can see the great flow of “destiny”

You and I are, so to speak, an identical existence that has been isolated from the world. My only supporter.

 Page 22

You might not understand yet but, you’ll come to know that truth eventually.

And then, you and I will unite into one.

In the not far away future.... It will “certainly” happen!

 Page 23

TN: Sun is up and so is Sin.

..

Sinbad: haa, haa, haa    TN:*heavy breathing*

What was that? Just now, was it a dream?

What a strange dream…

Why am I dreaming this sort of stuff…?

..

That’s ridiculous. I am who I am, I’m not anyone else.

To have such dreams can only mean that I had quite a lot to drink yesterday, huh…

Huh?

 TN: lol, nakey nakey

 Page 24

TN: Where are my dragons Metal vessels !!? haha and then Sin spots the 3 brothers.

SNL Brothers:

1)      Big bro! with this, we’ll be able to have lunch!

2)      If we sell this out, we’ll be able to make a name for ourselves!

3)      Let’s go, little brothers!

Sinbad: huh?

Wait… wait!!

Those are my….!!

Sinbad: I’ve been robbed….

 Page 25

TN: Sinbad is looking for a leaf lol

Sinbad:  huh…

It’s been a long time since I had to do this.

I’d rather if it were just the clothes, but when it comes to having my metal vessels stolen….

 (In Sinbad’s imagination= Ja’far: what are you doing!!??)

……

He’ll absolutely shout at me, right?

 Anyway, now I have to manage this situation somehow but …..

 TN: Sinbad can hear noise.

 Sinbad: people are coming!

I’m saved! If they can lend me some clothes, I’ll be lucky.

 As one would expect from me. I got immediately lucky.

..

Reminds me of the good old days…

In those times I also came to face numerous dangers many times this way.

But, I’ll definitely overcome this new crisis, without fail.

 Page 26 y 27

I, Sinbad, will do it…

 Sinbad to Morgiana and Aladdin:  Yo! You guys!

Nice weather today, huh?

If you don’t mind, can I join you?

 Page 28

My name is Sin

I’m a merchant heading to Balbadd!

 MAGI, SINBAD NO BOUKEN END.

..

.

And this is the end of the series!! As always, Thank you so much to for reading! and thank you so much for following these translations until now ^^ we still have the extra content of volume 18 and 19 to look forward! ;D

[nightfallguardian]

D.6

He's out there someplace. I've seen him. I suppose I should backtrack a little, fill in some missing bits for those who are missing the most. You city folks have urban legends, scary stories. Silly stuff like vaults full of ghosts being kept so there aren't more guardians, that the Earth is flat, and so on. We have some ourselves, ones like a group of iliksni guardians, of weapons that are almost magical. We also have our scary stories. Everyone has heard whispers of a dark heart in thorny halls, a labyrinth of bone and screams. Some of these places exist, some don't, others are some sort of quantum superstate in between realities. Between the light, vex, hive, darkness... There are so many things we don't quite grasp. In these places, things... Change.

The city knows these things, even in whispers and legends. None of what I'm saying is new, or troubling. Hell, you can hear about the same in bars on the weeks end. But there's a legend I hadn't heard of before, one guardians don't bring into the light often or for long. Guardians lost to us are another subject that brings up the same sort of stillness, the dying of laughter and the darkening of eyes follow some stories, some words.

I was out in the reef, since we've been allowed back I've taken a turn at the whole curse thing out there. It's unsettling, watching the whole place get torn up, killing fields of the enemy only to have nothing change week after week. Makes my skin crawl, lights truth. So I walked away from it, started poking around the reef. Easy friends and loot out there, but both will cost you a chunk of glimmer. I had bought some... Information. A little tussle had gone down outside the reef. Some hive, some fallen, some mercenary group: the players didn't matter really. It was the salvage that had eyes drifting that way. Usually weapons could survive a tussle, the odd armor bit, components mostly, and matter you could deprogram into glimmer. That was the biggest draw. Ships and armor have a lot of super fine, reprogrammable parts. Makes em able to self repair, and it makes them easy to scavenge.

I made it out to this desolate corner of asteroid belt, and there it is. Tussle is too small of a word for what I found. Tomb ships, a couple of skiffs, and a few guardian lugs all dead in space. Debris field was huge, and my palms were itching just thinking of all the junk I could scrap in the two days I had paid spider for. My ship is a small half ring affair, with field generators that give me a bubble of air and working space so I can salvage without cutting bits up and bringing them through an airlock or any other nonsense. Makes me one of the fastest being able to just skim along and place a working bubble on the most valuable parts quick and easy. My ship is mostly air tanks, storage, and those generators. High profit margins, but it cost me to build. I'm still paying on parts of it, prototype bits and such. Will be for decades probably, thank you Bray and Holliday.

So there I was, about eighteen hours in, working on the port guns of a tomb ship. The exotic coils in those sell for quite a bit. I had the bubble up, my ghost Andre was sorting and cleaning the salvage as we went, business as usual. Then Andre pinged me. One of the guardian ships wasn't too beat up, and the scans were showing some high grade alloys inside. Scans wouldn't penetrate, which means weapons, or valuable black market items. It was half jammed into a broken tomb ship. Weal passed slowly through a debris cloud, hive bodies and awoken floating peacefully in space. The salvage I was heading to suddenly woke up, swinging away from the tomb ship. It had nosed in, not been stuck at all. Lights flickered on, and a small cannon shot twice. One hit my sensor array, the other bored right into the engine cowling.

Pirates. Dark guardians, had to be. A short range radio transmission told me to shut down and wait to be boarded. I was dead in space, so I shut down. I was just about to tell my ghost Andre to flee, Rez me later, when I saw one of the bodies move. It looked like a hunter, with the signature cape. As it rotated in the void I could see his face.

Two dull yellow eyes glared through a broken exo face at the darkness. It had to be a trick of the light, he was spaced. Dead. That kind of damage had to have killed the guy even if space couldn't. If his ghost was alive, he wouldn't be here.

As the pirate ship moved in, the dead exo kicked off the corpse of a hive knight next to him, and I guess the ship noticed. Banking hard, it tried to bring it's guns up, but it was too late. The ruin-faced hunter was already on the ship, doing something. I couldn't see, I didn't want to see. I was quickly trying to fire up my auxiliary power. There was a flash of bright light, that was also dark somehow. A shockwave caused my ship to groan, I realized something exploded. It had to be the pirate ship, shooting at me or the guardian. I looked up, into a pair of yellow, deadly eyes. One flickered softly, but neither eye wavered. His face... It looked worse up close. Broken, raw edged metal thrust forward like the teeth of some nightmare beast, electricity sparking behind all the damage now and then. He pointed at me, then over my shoulder to the small airlock I had for repairs. He wanted in.

I knew that if I didn't let him in, I would probably live only long enough to regret it. I opened the exterior hatch. Once he was inside, he quickly went over my haul. Pulling components with remarkable dexterity, he had filled a little sack in about a half hour. They were parts that sold for more than triple their weight in glimmer, with broken rifles, and a host of other odds and ends. I didn't speak, and neither did he. I had a feeling speaking first would hurt. A lot. The broken faced exo pulled out a ghost, a dark shell with a red eye scanned the bag and transmatted it, glancing at us before it too vanished. The broken faced exo came to me then, looking into my eyes. He didn't go for his rifle, or his hand cannon. Instead he stabbed me, with a metal shiv broken off one of the bigger bits in my hold. It wasn't immediately fatal, but I could tell it would be. I gasped in surprise. My ghost immediately came out cursing him, trying to heal me.

Ruin-face grabbed him, I heard Andre beep in pain. He took a black knife from his chest and held it to Andres eye. Making it very clear he was in control. He motioned me to the floor, where I laid on my face, fear pumping through my veins. He set Andre right next to my face, straddling me, he wrenched off my left glove. He carved something into the back of my hand.

He said "I'm sorry, Friends. But needs must." In a surprisingly rough but sane voice. He put a slip of paper on Andre like a little hat, and transmatted out. The paper was a warning, and an invitation.

Friend.

There are secrets to be had. Fighting is good, making the enemy afraid is better. More danger comes, though not always from where you would believe. On the darkest day, find me. You will know the way.

I was found a bit later, dead on my ship. He had planted a small charge in the airlock, and a vacuum doesn't agree with humans missing helmets. Andre set off the alert beacon. Spider had a crew grab me, for a fee naturally. There was no note, and the mark on the back of my hand is gone. But I know it's there, I can feel it now and then, I could trace it in my sleep... I've brought up Ruin-Face to dozens and dozens of guardians who frequent the grey zones. The edges of safe space, where dark creeps in and light fades. All of them laugh at my silly story, the urban myth of Ruin-Face. But I watch. I have sharp eyes, it comes from scavenging. They all laugh at me, yes; but some of them laugh while rubbing the back of their left hand...

[ladylilithprime]

22 (Sad kiss) Samcest? =^o.o^=

22. Sad kiss

SAM WRENCHED HIMSELF out of sleep’s tenuous and uncomfortable grip with a gasp, the remembered image of Jess pinned to the ceiling and wreathed in flames superimposed over the dim hotel room for two agonizing heartbeats before it faded, leaving Sam gasping and shuddering in the dark, cheeks wet with tears and throat stripped raw from screams he hoped hadn’t actually escaped. Silence pressed in around him, heavy with the absence of Dean’s familiar snuffles and snores of sleep or his more familiar half-awake grumbles at being dragged to consciousness by Sam’s distress; his brother wasn’t back yet, and Sam ached with the lack of his brother to anchor him.

The ache sharpened as he stumbled from the bed towards the tiny bathroom, shaking fingers nudging the light switch upwards as he fumbled with the taps. Water burst from the spigot in time with the flare of yellow light from the bathroom’s faltering bulb. Sam’s stinging eyes flinched shut even as he shoved his hands into the spray, heedless of the temperature, and bent to splash a double handful of icy water over his face. Fully awake now, if no less shaken, Sam braced his hands on the edge of the sink and forced his lungs to draw in air and push it back out again without choking on acrid smoke thick with copper and sulfur that wasn’t even there.

“You’ve gotta stop doing this to yourself.”

A lifetime of hunter’s reflexes, rusty as they might be, had Sam whirling around and sending the nearest object to hand - the cheap hotel soap bar - flying towards the unexpected voice before he had even registered fully that there was somehow another person in the room behind him without the door opening. Fear clutched at Sam’s chest as his eyes tracked the path of the soap through the air to the man standing a few feet behind him in the motel room, the soap smacking too neatly into the open palm of the hand held ready to catch the impromptu projectile.

“Your reflexes aren’t as rusty as you think, by the way,” the man said, a wry sort of smile curving his lips even as Sam stared in something between shock and horror. “And your wards are still intact, although you could stand to add a few more. Salt lines don’t do much against things that can bypass thresholds by ignoring walls. They don’t work against regular humans, either.”

“What are you?” Sam rasped, eyes darting around the bathroom for some sort of weapon without looking away from the stranger in front of him for more than a second.

“As human as you are,” the man said. Sam stilled when the man laughed, a tiny self-deprecating chuckle. “Which I guess isn’t all that reassuring, depending on how much you know about yourself.”

As Sam watched, the man turned and walked to the night table in between the beds, deftly avoiding Dean’s duffle in the dark as if he knew exactly where not to step. Sam drifted silently out of the bathroom, watching warily as the man pulled open the drawer and retrieved the complimentary pad of paper and pen and started writing something. He was too far away for Sam to get a good look at what it was, and Sam’s bag was closer. He made it two steps towards the bag before the man spoke again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t shoot or stab me. It won’t do anything except leave holes in my clothes that I’ll have to explain to Dean when I get back.”

“Who are you?” Sam asked, taking another slow step towards his bag without looking away from the strange man’s back.

“Depends on who you ask,” the man answered without looking up. “Some people call me Sam, some call me Samael... Dean still calls me Sammy, and I’ve given up trying to get him to do otherwise.”

“No,” Sam denied, shaking his head and stepping closer to his bag. One more step and he could reach his gun.... “You can’t possibly expect me to believe--”

“I’m you,” the man finished, straightening up and turning around. The light from the bathroom fell across his face, turning green eyes briefly gold. Sam swallowed.

“No...” he repeated weakly, shaking his head again.

“I know, it sounds impossible. I look too old to be you, shifters can only look like a person’s current age, and you haven’t encountered time travel yet. Here,” the man held out the sheet of paper he had been writing on. “These are some basic wards that you should memorize and put up before we talk too much more.”

“Why should I even believe you?” Sam burst out, fists clenching tight. This couldn’t be real, it couldn’t. The man shrugged.

“Good question. You don’t even know how you even expect me to prove myself because shifters know everything the person they shift to knows, and calling Dean - your Dean - would just put another itchy trigger finger into an already tense situation,” he said, still holding out the paper. “Wards, Sam. I’m only supposed to be here for half an hour.”

The mention of a time limit galvanized Sam and he grabbed the paper, trying not to show his surprise when the stranger provided no resistance. Eyeing the man warily, he finished the trek to his duffle and pulled out a silver knife, holding it at the ready before he lowered his eyes to the paper. The blue ink of the hotel pen had gotten something of a workout in the making of the sigils that marched down one side of the paper. Sam swallowed tightly at the sight of his own familiar handwriting scrawling out brief descriptions of each sigil’s purpose until his eye caught on one specific word. “Angel wards?” he gasped.

“Enochian wards are stronger than just about any other wards out there against demons,” the man - if he was a man - said dryly. Sam shot him a narrow look, and he held up his hands. “I swear by the Light of Heaven, no harm will come to you or Dean from using those wards, Sam, but I’ve only got twenty minutes left.”

“You’re going to explain once these are up,” Sam demanded, just short of petulant, but he cut his hand and began carefully tracing out the different sigils in a line along the nearest wall of the motel room. Despite his impatience, he took just enough time over each to make sure he got the lines exactly right. He hesitated over the last, eyeing his current visitor. “Truth compulsion?”

“So you know I’m not lying to you,” the man said, lips twitching upwards. “It’s not normally part of the ward schematic, but under the circumstances it can’t hurt. Though if you decide you want to ask Dean a few pointed questions while it’s up....”

“So it works on anyone in the room?” Sam asked with a frown. “For how long?”

“Anyone who enters the room, and until they leave the room or you break the sigil,” was the response. Sam hesitated, but went ahead and drew the sigil carefully over the floral wallpaper. He jumped when another hand brushed the edge of his cut and then stared at the smooth, unbroken skin. “What are you?” he whispered again, slowly raising his eyes to look at the man who looked way too much like him for comfort.

“Just as human as you are,” Samael said softly, a small, sad smile crossing his face briefly. “The alignment’s a little different than anyone thinks, though. You’re me, I know you’ve felt something off inside you for a really long time, like something pulling you left of center.”

“These powers....” Sam whispered.

“Are yours alone,” Samael finished. “Yellow-Eyes may try and claim he gave them to you that night, but that’s a lie. You wouldn’t have these powers if they weren’t in you from birth. All he did was stick a control lever in you so he could turn them on and off.”

“How do I get rid of them?” Sam asked, then blinked as he realized Samael had spoken the words in unison with him. Samael smirked slightly.

“I’m you, remember?” he said, almost playfully, before the smile fell. “You can try not using them, though it won’t work too well. Any time Dean is in danger, those powers will jump to be used, because we will do anything to save our big brother... and that’s what Hell is counting on, along with Dean being willing to do anything, even sell his soul, to keep you alive and safe.”

“H-how do I get the... control lever out?” Sam asked shakily. Samael didn’t look surprised at the question. Sam guessed he must have been expecting it.

“The control lever was set with blood that Azazel - Yellow-Eyes - dripped into our mouth the night he killed Mom,” came the staggering answer. “To counter it, you need to ingest it’s direct antithesis - angel blood - from an angel willing to direct the purge of the demon’s poison.” Samael’s hand, which had not let go of Sam’s at all, squeezed gently. “Are you sure you want this? Once it’s gone, your powers will be a lot stronger, but also difficult to control. You’ll need help, and Dean won’t be able to help you. Not the way he’ll want to.”

“You’re telling me that I have d-demon blood in me, and you really think I don’t want it out?” Sam asked incredulously. “I thought you were supposed to be me!”

“If either of us was what we were supposed to be, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Samael said. Sam scowled, pursing his lips in displeasure, and causing Samael to blink, then snort. “Now I know why Dean calls that expression a ‘bitchface’.”

“In case it wasn’t clear,” Sam gritted out, “yes, Samael, I want the demon blood purged.”

“Okay, okay,” Samael shook his head and stepped right up into Sam’s personal space, the hand not holding his coming up to cup the back of Sam’s head as Sam froze. Samael smiled softly and tilted his head up to brush a feather light kiss across Sam’s forehead. “Just a piece of advice, though? Never say the word ‘yes’ to an angel.”

Before Sam could draw breath to ask why not, Samael covered his lips with his own. They were dry and slightly chapped, and Sam automatically flicked out his tongue to wet them as well as his own. There was a huff of breath, a small vibration, and then the press of lips became firmer, another tongue pushing its way past Sam’s lips into his mouth. Thick liquid that tasted like copper and tingled like mint and ice followed, filling Sam’s mouth relentlessly until he had to swallow or choke on it. The ice spread from his mouth down his throat and into his chest, racing outwards to fill his entire body. Sam thought he could see the shadows of huge wings spread wide against the far wall behind Samael before the world went white.

When he could finally open his eyes again, he was somehow back in his bed and the room was empty.

[yogaadvise]

Ritual Inspiration: Sharon Salzberg

Sharon Salzberg's existence is gentle and also commanding, her rearing earnest as well as amusing, her writing personal and erudite. As an instructor as well as author, Salzberg consistently shows understanding and also acceptance of what it means to be human. She mentions her personal encounters with straightforward sensitivity, sharp intelligence and also a raw funny bone, generously revealing her pupils all over the world that it's feasible to integrate the concepts reflection right into day-to-day life, not just in the official sitting practice. When fulfilling Salzberg, you would have no concept that she is both a New York Times best-selling author and one of the most prominent instructors of Buddhism in the West, her temperament is loosened up as well as modest, also as she has an extraordinary deepness of understanding concerning both Vipassana (mindfulness) and metta (loving-kindness) methods, as well as has led meditation hideaways all over the world for even more compared to 30 years.

Born in New york city City, Salzberg experienced a wonderful offer of emotional discomfort during childhood years, which she commonly cites as the genesis of her eventual passion in meditation. Salzberg sped with senior high school in New York City, and discovered herself registering in university at the State College of New york city in Buffalo at age 16. After reading several of the Buddha's central trainings in an Oriental ideology program throughout her student year of university, Salzberg discovered herself thinking, 'Wow, I'm not alone. I do not have to feel weird. Everybody at some factor or one more reads through tough times.' Immediately, Salzberg determined to get an independent research task to find out meditation in India throughout her junior year. Her application was approved, and in January of 1971, Salzberg started her first experience with strenuous reflection instruction at Bodh Gaya. In the succeeding three years, Salzberg continued researching meditation under different Buddhist instructors, a lot of whom she frequently mentions in the meeting below. 'It never struck me momentarily that I would certainly be an educator,' Salzberg recounts with giggling. Yet in 1974, Salzberg returned to the USA to teach her initial reflection resort in Rock, Colorado. Within months, Salzberg co-founded the Understanding Reflection Society (IMS), a Vipassana hideaway facility, with fellow reflection educators Jack Kornfield and also Joseph Goldstein in Barre, Massachusetts.

In addition to co-running IMS and also leading reflection resorts around the globe, Salzberg is also a committed writer, and also has published nine books to this day. Writing is, probably, amongst Salzberg's essential routines, as all of her books combine the organic wisdom of self-inquiry with the rigor of scholarly examination. Right here, Salzberg shares emotional tales from her journey toward becoming a meditation teacher, all the while exploring what it implies to be a 'teacher' of a method that highlights the relevance of 'newbie's mind.'

You typically refer back to your very first journey to India: you were 18, as well as deeply curious about meditation. Just how did you first discover yourself drew in to reflection? Existed something particularly you were wanting to 'get' from it?

I found out about the possibility of doing reflection method to be happier. That's when I decided to produce an independent research study job, and asked to visit India to examine reflection. I got accepted and off I went for my junior year.

I still consider meditation similarly, except currently I suppose I'm much more innovative. Looking back at myself at the age of 18, the word I would certainly use to explain myself after that is 'fragmented.' Now I have the expertise and also the language to recognize that reflection alleviates that feeling of fragmentation and also helps make us really feel whole again. That's the way that it works to make us happier.

How did the idea of a profession in meditation develop for you? Was there a particular event or turning point when it came to be clear?

It never ever occurred to me momentarily that I 'd be a teacher. In 1974, I remained in India getting ready ahead back to the United States wherefore I made certain was mosting likely to simply be a really brief time period. I had to come back quickly getting a Visa, however made sure that I was going to go back to India and live there for the rest of my life. Prior to leaving, I visited one of my educators, this woman called Dipa Ma, which is a label that suggests 'Dipa's mom.' I traveled to Calcutta where she lived to say goodbye and also get her blessing for my trip. My pal Joseph Goldstein, whom I 'd fulfilled in my first resort in January 1971, had simply returned to the States when I went to see Dipa Ma, she told me that I would certainly be teaching with Joseph when I went back to the United States I was surprised as well as stated, 'No I will not.' But after that she claimed two things that were truly amazing to me. She told me, 'You truly comprehend suffering, and also that's why you ought to show.' I had actually never truly thought of the discomfort in my earlier life as being sort of useful the larger sense. The second thing she stated was, 'You could do anything you wish to. Believing you can not is the only trait that's going stop you.' I left her house still questioning just what she had said.

But when I came back to the States, I ended up going to Stone where Joseph was educating at Naropa. Jack Kornfield existed too, and I wound up remaining on and also instructing the 2nd session there with Joseph and a number of other individuals. Then we obtained an invite to educate a monthlong resort with each other, and afterwards an additional one to teach a 10-day hideaway in Vancouver. We were circumnavigating, resting on individuals's living space couches and also waiting on our following invitation. After that one day, we were in The golden state when someone asked us, 'Why don't you begin a retreat center in this nation? I know just thoes who can do it. They're done in Massachusetts.' To make sure that's what we did. It was really old-fashioned: My teacher told me to show, and also I really did not assume I could.

The idea of beginning or being 'a beginner' is central to the technique of meditation. Exactly what does it imply to you to be a 'instructor,' as well as a cited 'professional' of reflection? How do you maintain novice's mind in your very own practice?

I definitely don't consider myself as a professional, however it holds true that I have 45 years encounter, which is extremely different compared to having 15 minutes of encounter. And also the world of training is a new globe. Now, great deals of individuals hand me their cards that state 'reflection instructor.' Yet 10 years earlier, even 5 years ago, my next concern would certainly be 'That's your teacher?' because that would tell me something. If you reacted, 'Thich Nhat Hanh,' I would certainly think, 'Oh you most likely are taken part in social advocacy somehow.' If you claimed, the name of some scholarly Burmese monk, that may tell me another thing about your orientation. As well as now I understand that it's possibly not even an appropriate concern any longer for most individuals. They could not even consider having a teacher.

I would never make use of the word 'competence,' yet there is absolutely body of understanding that I see in my teachers. As well as currently, also when I'm fretting over my encounter, I recognize as well as recognize the wide array of experiences I have actually had, which become part of my mentor. That's why I always tell people that also if they're having a tough time in reflection, it's never a waste. Having a difficult time educates you regarding compassion and helps you comprehend others as well.

We have a lot conditioning around attempting too tough and also being tough on ourselves as well as people think, as an example, that if they get a stranglehold on the breath their minds won't stray and they'll 'be successful' at reflection. Part of the body of knowledge I'm describing is actually learning how to begin once more. That itself is a very efficient way of making 'progress' and permitting your reflection method to bring you advantages. Because if you're not focusing on the method of beginning once more, you're most likely concentrating on another thing, and that something is likely self-judgment.

For many people, reflection is a common aspect of the journey of psychological healing and self-discovery. Without specific comparisons to other techniques, what would certainly you claim are the special therapeutic advantages of meditation?

Just to be able to rest and also be with difficult sensations is tremendously healing. Particularly because we are possibly doing that rather of doing the compulsive thing we usually do when we really feel distress or sorrow or temper. Rather than acting out, we're discovering the skills of being with ourselves, and also understanding that absolutely nothing lasts. In discovering how to be kinder to yourself while in that state, we create space around hard sensations, which's an enormous thing.

Who have your essential teachers been, meditation or otherwise?

Dipa Ma for certain because she was a fantastic model to me of someone who could go through so much bad things as well as be so loving. She was so regular, in an extremely maternal method, constantly asking if individuals were comfy or needed more tea. She was likewise very, really solid, as well as was an incredible design to me. Naturally, Dipa Ma was likewise the individual that obtained me to show, so she actually helped me forge the entire rest of my life.

What are one of the most salient kernels of advice you've ever before gotten?

I was functioning with a Tibetan teacher Nyoshul Khen Rinpoche who was likewise extremely, really crucial to me. I was extremely dismayed at the time about exactly what I assumed somebody else was assuming, as well as he stated to me, 'You understand the ideas emerging in his mind are as vacant as the ideas developing in yours,' suggesting that ideas come as well as go and typically aren't solid, as well as don't have an inherent reality.

Love Your Enemies, the book you just recently co-wrote with Robert Thurman, worries the prickly subject of temper. What recommendations could you give regarding just how reflection can instruct us to associate with anger and other challenging emotions?

The first trait is attempting to see just what we could be including on, such as ideas like 'I'm such a mad person and I always will be,' or 'I shouldn't really feel mad any longer,' or obtaining totally shed in it and snapping. The next thing is being able to into the heart of the temper, due to the fact that when you in fact look at rage, it's an intricate feeling. There are moments of sadness, minutes of anxiety, minutes of helplessness. You see it's kind of this permeable mosaic of various things. Sure, rage frequently feels solid and also relentless when it initially turns up, however when we actually consider it, it's an active system with a great deal of adjustment associated with it. That gives us a various point of view if when we decide to do something about it: We could act from a location of comprehending all those feelings.

What does your meditation technique presently look like?

My official sitting technique is a daily awareness method. I essentially begin by settling my interest on my breath, which is the technique I obtained started with 45 years back! And various other times, it's even more open awareness-just sitting and observing whatever comes up. I do enjoy loving-kingness method, which is its very own technique, calmly saying phrases like 'May you be satisfied, relaxed, cope with convenience.' I do a lot of it walking the streets of New York, or in a taxi or on an aircraft, taking a walk in Massachusetts, or just waiting - on line at Whole Foods or in a physician's waiting room. If there's a hold-up while I'm at the airport, for instance, instead of flipping out or obtaining upset and even reading, I'll simply aim to expand loving-kindness, so it's type of an enjoyable means to be at the airport.

Has your technique changed considerably over the years?

To some degree, I've discovered brand-new methods, new methods, as well as new refinements of those approaches. One of the points that intrigues me concerning the entire path is that it exposes a lot more regarding our conditioning. We're inclined to think, 'I did the 101-course currently, now all I need is the truly secret wonderful guideline or the graduate meditation course.' And also I assume it's the very same direction, simply you're so different. I was speaking to some individuals the other night concerning maybe educating a sophisticated meditation class. Which obtained me thinking, 'Well what does innovative instruction also mean? Just what would be the distinction?' Probably the concerns would be various since individuals may have a lot more confidence in some areas. They could be questioning traits like, 'Exactly how I do I manage sleepiness in longer sittings?' But maybe not, or even if they were, the guideline would not be different.

You travel the world to educate reflection. You write publications as well as routine posts. You run a meditation retreat center in Massachusetts. Just how do you stay 'focused'?

I constantly are reluctant with a word like 'stay,' it's even more like 'return.' I do definitely seem like I have to exercise on a daily basis. It can't end up being academic. I simply met somebody who was undergoing a difficult time. His feedback was to sit for 4 hrs a day in total. He 'd begin in the early morning by resting for HALF AN HOUR and afterwards would just add 15 mins here and there throughout totally free windows throughout the day till he collected four hours. He did it for six months, and didn't make it some sort of guarantee to himself forever. It's unbelievable as well as influenced me to attempt the same thing, but for just 2 hours. I don't count or arrange however just a few days ago, I discovered that I had 15 mins to spare, as well as located myself assuming 'OK, just what need to I obtain done?!' But then I assumed, just rest. Along with the formal sitting I do in the morning, I'll do this throughout the day when I have five minutes here and also there. And also I'm not obtaining much less done, interestingly enough.

There's a social misconception that reflection is a near-automatic way to 'remove your mind.' For lots of people initial showing up to meditation, this usual perception can cause wonderful dissatisfaction, as the practice is usually tough. What do you tell students who are shocked by just how 'tough' meditation is?

I believe it's crucial from the start to attempt and also dispel some of those misconceptions, because many people have concepts regarding what reflection need to be like: 'I must have the ability to quit my thinking,' 'I should block all my thoughts, 'I must be able to empty my mind,' 'I ought to have just stunning thoughts.' Every one of those thoughts are incorrect, as well as lead us to a great deal of trouble. We generally condemn ourselves or give up because of this. So I believe that's a vital understanding-realizing that we're not attempting to eliminate thoughts, we're simply altering our connection to those thoughts. Judgment is not mosting likely to aid you boost. Ironically just what aids you improve is a self- concern. You're sitting, and perhaps your mind wanders for the billionth time. But going into a 45 min tirade against yourself is exhausting and also is mosting likely to take up a great deal of time as well as power. We're always attempting to start again. Laying this context is truly crucial. Otherwise, at any time somebody's mind wandered, they would certainly think it was the end of their reflection career!

You educate loving-kindness reflection. How would you explain the relationship in between concern and also mindfulness in your method of meditation?

Let's claim you're sitting and after that your attempting to feel your breath, after that your mind wanders and after that you need to release and also return. We would certainly state that because letting go and also coming back there inevitably is some kind of self-compassion or else you can't do it. Even if you do not understand it because method, with those words, that's what it is. It's much less complicated for many people to start evaluating themselves and also seeming like a failure than it is to let go as well as start again, as well as bring focus back today. In a sneaky sort of method, that mindfulness method, which is one of the most foundational technique, is truly concerning planting greater self -compassion. Which results in greater empathy for others.

The key advantage of mindfulness classically is insight, it's understanding. Today, it's mostly discussed these days is one more fantastic benefit but it's more regarding populating your life, really tasting the tea when you consume it, instead compared to understanding. Take just what I stated concerning rage, for instance: if you can prevent obtaining lost in the 'include ons,' you could actually see the rage, as well as that it's constantly altering. That's incredible insight. After that insight will result in greater compassion because one of the things we see, along with impermanence, is inter-connectedness. We see that our lives have something to do with each other. When you see that, concern will certainly arise.

If somebody just has five minutes a day to commit to a method, exactly what would recommend?

Start with supporting focus on the breath, sitting easily in a means where you feel at convenience. You could close your eyes or otherwise. In this system, simply take a breath a regular, natural breath. You are not attempting to make it deep or different-just rest your focus on the breath. When your mind has wandered-because it will-see if you could delicately release and also bring your attention back to the breath. That's your five minutes, and afterwards the method ends up being nearly a type of muscular tissue memory of allowing go and also starting once more. You're developing sufficient stamina so that you could after that practice mindfulness in a much wider sense.

[junker-town]

100 percent correct predictions for the 2019 NFL season that we definitely won’t regret later

Patrick Mahomes and Myles Garrett are two of the NFL’s brightest young stars.

Last year, we whiffed on the MVP and Super Bowl winner. This year, though, we totally nailed it.

NFL predictions in early September are, for the most part, garbage.

The league is an untamable beast whose undulations can cast off even the most iron-clad locks. The rise of onetime cellar dwellers at the expense of former contenders is the NFL’s proudest cycle. It keeps all but the most downtrodden fans invested in the promise of a new season, even if the last one ended in utter failure.

While some of the league’s elite will remain their status in the old guard — the Patriots, if we’re being honest with ourselves — new arrivals will challenge that throne in both the postseason bracket and the NFL’s individual awards.

This all makes the process of preseason predictions a silly exercise. The league’s ever-changing landscape reduces all manners of expertise into a raw collection of educated guesses. Like last year, when some of us picked Aaron Rodgers to return to MVP form or Dante Pettis to win offensive rookie of the year honors. We came back and tried again in February, only to see many of those derailed by the draft, free agency, and one shocking retirement.

So yeah, our picks are mostly going to be wrong. But you should read them anyway, because they’ll still offer valuable clues as to how 2019 will unfold, from the first snap in September until the moment the confetti falls at Super Bowl 54 — even if it’s in ways we never saw coming.

2019 MVP

Russell Wilson, Seahawks — Christian D’Andrea Patrick Mahomes, Chiefs — Sarah Hardy Patrick Mahomes, Chiefs — James Brady Baker Mayfield, Browns — Adam Stites

Wilson is always left hanging around the periphery of the MVP race, guiding his Seahawks to contention despite a typically sparse lineup of targets. 2019 should be no different. Injuries and Doug Baldwin’s retirement have left Seattle with one of the league’s worst WR corps, but Wilson — now flanked by a potent running game led by Chris Carson — will likely finish his year with something like 35 touchdown passes, 3,500 passing yards, and one of the top QB ratings in the NFL.

Those aren’t typical MVP numbers, but factor in another postseason appearance from a team that’s supposed to be past its sell-by date and you’ve got a recipe that will swing AP voters to Wilson’s side. If the Seahawk can live up to his lofty standard and ride a revamped defense and scattershot offense into the playoffs, he’ll be deserving of MVP consideration. — D’Andrea

Boring, I know. But we can almost guarantee the winner will be a quarterback, and until I see any sort of evidence that Mahomes or the Kansas City offense is headed for a regression, I won’t believe it. — Hardy

Screw it, let’s go all in on the hype train. Mayfield threw 27 touchdowns last year, setting a new NFL rookie record despite not starting until Week 4. Now he’s got another year’s worth of development and the addition of Odell Beckham Jr. working in his favor. Expect a ton of touchdowns. — Stites

Defensive Player of the Year

Myles Garrett, Browns — Sarah Hardy Joey Bosa, Chargers — Christian D’Andrea Fletcher Cox, Eagles — Charles McDonald Bradley Chubb, Broncos — James Brady Chris Jones, Chiefs — Adam Stites

You could call last year a breakout season for Garrett, the dinosaur-loving, dessert-declining, Grecian God wannabe. He flashed as a rookie in 2016, but languished on an 0-16 Browns team. In his second season, the former No. 1 pick racked up 13.5 sacks — three of which came against Ben Roethslisberger! — on a defense that was still kinda average.

Now, Garrett has more pass-rushing help than just fellow third-year lineman Larry Ogunjobi. This offseason, the Browns added two Pro Bowlers, Olivier Vernon and Sheldon Richardson, to their defensive front. Not only should Cleveland’s D-line be one of the best in the NFL this year, those reinforcements will let Garrett unleash his true disruptive powers — we’re talking 20+ sacks territory here.

On the field, that is. Off the field, he’ll probably just chill and listen to a little Fleetwood Mac. — Hardy

Jones had 15.5 sacks for the Chiefs, despite mostly playing on the interior. It was 2.5 more sacks than edge rusher Dee Ford. It’s still a mystery how on Earth he didn’t make a Pro Bowl last year, but if his production continues to rise, Jones will be impossible to ignore. — Stites

Coach of the Year

Kyle Shanahan, 49ers — Christian D’Andrea Kyle Shanahan, 49ers — James Brady Matt LaFleur, Packers — Charles McDonald Adam Gase, Jets — Adam Stites Bruce Arians, Buccaneers — Sarah Hardy

I don’t know what to expect out of the Bucs this year. They could finish in last place in the NFC South for the third year in a row, or they could make their way back into the playoffs for the first time in over a decade. Not much would surprise me, unless they’re somehow worse in their first season under Arians than they were in their last season under Dirk Koetter.

I doubt that’s the case, though. In six seasons as a head coach (including his interim year with the Colts), Arians has only finished with a losing record once, when the Cardinals went 7-8-1 in 2016.

Arians should get the Bucs back on the right track after his brief retirement, and that’ll impress the voters who might be a little tired of Sean McVay clones. Plus, NFL circles love him. He’s already won the award twice before. — Hardy

Super Bowl 54 prediction

The Eagles over the Chiefs — Christian D’Andrea The Patriots over the Eagles — Charles McDonald The Patriots over ... The Chiefs over the Eagles — Sarah Hardy The Saints over the Chiefs — James Brady The Chiefs over the Seahawks — Adam Stites

Last year at this time, I picked the Vikings to beat the Steelers in Super Bowl 53. Let’s pause for a sec so you can go ahead and LOL at me.

I knew then that it was nothing more than wishful thinking, because my reason for choosing the Vikings was as follows: “they’re not the Patriots, who will probably end up here anyway.” Then when that Voldemort of a sentence came true, I wrote in February, “I’m picking the Patriots to win every Super Bowl until the end of time now.”

I still believe that deep down, but you don’t want to hear about how the Patriots’ schedule looks like the SEC’s Cupcake Week stretched out over an entire year And neither do I. So once again, I’ll just try to The Secret a non-Patriots Super Bowl into existence.

The Chiefs were a penalty away from making the last Super Bowl. Their Madden-like offense is more or less the same, and the defense will be better (not that it has much choice to go anywhere but up). The Eagles have one of the most complete rosters in the NFL and a majority of their players have already been on this stage before. If you think the Chiefs are cursed, well, a lot of people said the same thing about the Eagles until two seasons ago. This is the year, Kansas City. This is the year!

I’m sorry. I already regret this. — Hardy

Which second-year player will have a breakout 2019?

Dante Pettis, 49ers — James Brady Dante Pettis, 49ers — Christian D’Andrea Mike Gesicki, Dolphins — Charles McDonald James Washington, Steelers — Sarah Hardy Marcus Davenport, Saints — Adam Stites

Let’s see what my 2018 offensive rookie of the year pick can do with a whole season of Jimmy Garoppolo (and a limited number of high-impact wide receivers around him) can do. — D’Andrea

Well, SOMEONE has to catch passes for the Dolphins. Kenny Stills is gone, leaving the Dolphins in need of targets. Gesicki has all right tools to be a dominant receiving threat. Now, he has the opportunity. — McDonald

No AB, no problem? The Steelers wish it were that simple. While there’s no replacing Antonio Brown, I think Washington can take advantage of getting more opportunities this year. He caught just 42 percent of his targets as a rookie, which came out to an underwhelming 16 catches, 217 yards, and one touchdown for the second-round pick. If his preseason performance can translate to the regular season, then his first-year struggles will soon be nothing but a distant memory. — Hardy

The Saints drafted Davenport because of his outrageous physical talent, even if he was very green. He’s just 23 and now that he’s been in the league for over a year, it’s time to watch that potential get unleashed. — Stites

Who will be the first starting quarterback to be benched?

Ryan Fitzpatrick, Dolphins — Charles McDonald Case Keenum, Washington — Christian D’Andrea Case Keenum, Washington — James Brady Case Keenum, Washington — Adam Stites

Have you seen that Dolphins’ offensive line? This isn’t even a real indictment of Fitzpatrick — no quarterback would stand a chance behind that line. Unfortunately, poor production will likely lead to him being benched. — McDonald

Jay Gruden may be staring down a situation where the only way to keep his job is to prove he can develop Dwayne Haskins into Washington’s next franchise passer. If Keenum gets off to a slow start — and he did last year with the Broncos — he could be in for a quick hook. — D’Andrea

Which 2018 playoff team will be the first to be eliminated from contention?

Chicago Bears — Charles McDonald Indianapolis Colts — Christian D’Andrea Houston Texans — James Brady New Orleans Saints — Adam Stites

The Bears’ defense is still one of the best units in the league, but expecting them to replicate their 2018 production is unreasonable. They’re going to need third-year quarterback Mitchell Trubisky to finally start looking like the elite passer he was drafted to be, which might be too tall of a task for him right now. — McDonald

Sorry, Jacoby Brissett. — D’Andrea

Which 2019 trade will look smartest by the time the season ends?

The Patriots steal Michael Bennett from the Eagles for a swap of Day 3 picks — Christian D’Andrea The Dolphins trading Laremy Tunsil to the Texans for two first-round picks — Charles McDonald The Browns landing Odell Beckham Jr. because the Giants are weird — Sarah Hardy The Browns landing Odell Beckham Jr. because the Giants are weird — James Brady The Steelers sending Antonio Brown to the Raiders — Adam Stites

New England desperately needed to punch up its pass rush after losing Trey Flowers in free agency. Enter Bennett, whose versatility and veteran gravitas give him the chops to play anywhere along Bill Belichick’s defensive line. — D’Andrea

Miami did exactly what every rebuilding team should do: acquire future assets. The Dolphins won’t be in playoff contention at all, but their 2020 offseason should be exciting with their own top-five pick and a potential top-20 pick from Houston. — McDonald

It’s too early to tell if Dave Gettleman was right all along about Daniel Jones. I refuse for him to be right about OBJ, though. — Hardy

Brown’s bizarre 2019 hasn’t stopped being bizarre. He spent August dealing with frostbitten feet, a gripe about his helmet, and has already accrued over $50,000 in fines from the Raiders for absences. It’s definitely possible he’ll make up for all that by being the same dynamic playmaker he was in Pittsburgh. But until that happens, the Steelers are looking smarter every day. — Stites

Which late draft pick or undrafted free agent will make the biggest impact in 2019?

Ben Burr-Kirven, Seahawks — Christian D’Andrea Lamont Gaillard, Cardinals — Charles McDonald Byron Cowart, Patriots — Adam Stites

Burr-Kirven was a fifth-round pick who had to fight his way onto the Seattle roster this summer, but he should have plenty of opportunity to stand out in a defense in desperate need of linebacker depth. While his measurables are unimpressive — he’s small at 6’0 and 230 pounds and not overly athletic — he’s a tackling machine who finished his college career with 176 tackles as a senior. He’ll find a way to contribute for Pete Carroll. — D’Andrea

The Cardinals will be rebuilding their offensive line over the next few seasons, but they might already have a keeper in sixth-round center Lamont Gaillard. Gaillard anchored dominant rushing attacks over the last few years for the Georgia Bulldogs and even performed well against Quinnen Williams in the SEC Championship Game last year. Gaillard won’t be enough to overturn the Cardinals’ offensive line woes by himself, but he’s a nice start. — McDonald

Once upon a time, Cowart was the top high school recruit in the nation. It didn’t translate to much success at Auburn. But the Patriots took a fifth-round flier on the defensive lineman and saw early signs that it was a good call when he folded the Titans’ Rodger Saffold like a lawn chair. New England loves to keep its defensive linemen in rotation, so Cowart will get chances to show that same explosion in the regular season. — Stites

Which team ends up with the No. 1 pick in the 2020 NFL Draft?

Miami Dolphins — Sarah Hardy Miami Dolphins — Christian D’Andrea Miami Dolphins — James Brady Miami Dolphins — Adam Stites

I mean ... they’re pretty clearly trying to get the No. 1 pick. — Stites

[never-shuts-up]

RAW 4/10 Adventure: Getting All Shook Up

So I got a message around 8 AM Monday that a friend of a friend had some openings for seat fillers for RAW at Nassau Coliseum that night. So the adventure began!

 I immediately texted D and by 10 AM we had both made plans to leave work early, and I was working on my second dose of kava and third or so near anxiety attack.

Left work at quarter to three, on the road by four… and promptly got stuck in traffic. Accidents kept popping up on the map and there were moments when we were certain we would never get there before the call time, and even contemplated turning around, but we were already on the GWB and I was still determined to try. 

When it was starting to look impossible, this exchange happened:

Me: I guess anything worth doing in life leads to either a scar or a story.

D: If you can call sitting in traffic “a story.” Unless it ends in “And that’s where you came from!”

Me: I think that would lead to a very specific selection of baby names.

Two hours later we rolled up to the Coliseum with less than a gallon of gas in the tank, no idea where the nearest gas station was, and no clue where to find our contact.

The particulars of us actually getting in aren’t important, but we found our guy and made it. We were given the rundown of how seat-filling works and shown to some really good seats where we would wait for a wrangler to come move us to empty seats on camera if and when we were needed. From there we got to see the first few matches, and then our wrangler found us and waved us down to even better seats, low in the bleachers on the other side of the ring. We were slightly above eye level with the wrestlers in the ring and right in front of the cameras, but any time they played toward the main cameras, we were watching them from behind. With some of the talent, this is a really good problem to have (insert a bunch of “peach” emojis here), and with some it’s not a problem at all because they are able to play to all sides.

The Highlights:

- Enzo and Cass opening things up in a taping for Main Event. They were super extra hyped up because it’s basically a hometown show, so much “how you doin’?” With which I just wanted to respond “stuck in traffic” as Enzo detailed the drive there from Jersey. Cass vs. Titus O'Neil while Enzo worked the crowd.

- Lucha cruiserweight tag team with Gran Metallik! This was the point when D and I both well and truly lost our shit. Luchadors at any non-lucha show are just so extra that you can’t not love them, and I want to give them the Best Dressed award for the night. Sparkle capes!!!!!

- Miz and Maryse opening the show with their John Cena & Nikki Bella bit. I was in stitches, because I thought they were done with that and certainly didn’t expect to see them coming to RAW with it. And then who shows up? As you know, it was Dean Fucking Ambrose! And meanwhile I’m thinking “shit. If Dean’s coming here, then Seth Rollins must be leaving because they would never tease us with the idea of a Shield reunion (or even messing with the leftover threads of that plot) without putting a giant wrench in it somehow.” This only dampened our spirits until the setup for the Sami Zayn vs. Miz match, which had me jumping out of my seat. Hell fucking yes! Sami in a singles match!

- Cruiserweights were an absolute treat because Austin Aries is hilarious, and Neville just sat next to the announcers’ table looking pissed. I don’t quite buy TJP as a heel, maybe I’m just not up on the history here, but I’ll gladly keep watching.

 - We moved seats before Seth’s “Fate” appearance, so we were watching it from behind, and that was a smidge disappointing but I know my face was in the background doing… I don’t know what. Emoting like a motherfucker. Cheering, crumpling, cheering again. I think D was sitting in the row in front at the time so he didn’t see my face, but I bet he could hear it. Watching Kurt Angle’s entrance, the entire exchange, and Samoa Joe getting shut. the. fuck. down. was magnificent.

- Finn Balor vs. Jinder Mahal: OMG. Finn did his infamous entrance crotch pose on our side of the ring, almost directly in front of us, and I died a little. Aside from a messy forearm, Jinder did make Finn look good, but then again Finn always looks good, and even though he doesn’t really work the crowd as much as others, his grace and intensity always impress, and the crowd was With Him 100%.  (Before and after this match was when my phone started blowing up with messages from friends who saw us on TV, and the timing could not have been better to capture us at peak enthusiasm.) Of course, I’m pissed that Finn got concussed, but so grateful that I was able to see him wrestle just once.

- Sami vs. Miz was everything. I danced like a lunatic to Sami’s music, and we had several “ole ole” chants going. We booed the Miz so hard he turned around and full-on glared at our entire section a few times, which just made us boo louder. The energy we built up for Sami felt great, and he was definitely taking and appreciating it, and effing killed it. And of course we all freaked out again when he won; I was doing the Running Man at my seat and giving zero fucks what that looked like.

- 8 Man Tag Team Match - so many highlights. Too-sweeting Gallows & Anderson, who finally ditched the dopey shoulder pads they wore last week. The Hardys being the Hardys and so so so many “Delete” and “Brother Nero” chants. They may not be broken, but I think we might be. Sheamus and Cesaro doing their James Bond meets Magic Mike entrance in the kilts. Watching Cesaro take a beating from G&A and the Shining Stars at the same time, for a long fucking time, was punishing, but the ups outnumbered the downs. The guys in the row behind us had a gigantic Irish flag, so Sheamus gestured right at us to acknowledge it during their exit, and D had a whole “Immortan Joe looked at me! I am awaited in Valhalla!” moment.

- The end of Ambrose vs. Owens, which in general was more satisfying than a lot of the Ambrose matches in recent memory, he actually seemed to flip the switch in a more believable and useful way. By this point we were really getting tired, and thinking about the logistics of leaving… and then Chris Jericho showed up to deliver a “bye, bitch” Codebreaker at his former bestie, the televised part of things ended, and shit got interesting. How interesting? Samoa Joe interesting. 

Then more interesting.

Seth Freakin’ Rollins interesting.

I made a sound that I’m pretty sure only dogs and bats can hear.

 So the match that was supposed to happen last week went forward as a dark match. I was marking out for all of it. There were “Stupid Idiots” chants, which were everything. I think D didn’t have the heart to make fun of me for freaking out when Seth sold the knee thing, because I always die a little when that happens. But everyone’s favorite shiny pants goofballs triumphed, of course, and Jericho got to work the crowd and tell Long Island we made the list. (After our ordeal getting there, if I had the List I would have put Long Island on it for sure. I would have put Long Island at the TOP of the fucking List and everyone who drives in the greater NY area as well, because fuck it all.) During this part, he was playing toward the crowd on the camera side, and Seth was standing in the opposite corner working our side, including some great drumroll-spirit-fingers when Jericho built up to his signature line. Couldn’t have asked for a better ending. I wanted to go down to the floor to try and catch a closer glimpse or a high-five or something on their way out, but decided that kind of access should be saved for the people who paid a shit-ton of money to be there, not our freeloading asses.

The Low Points

- Mixed feelings about Nia vs. Charlotte. It looked like Nia was finally getting her due and getting to be the monster we all know she can be, but even though I couldn’t tell from where we were sitting, I heard later that it looked wildly unsafe on camera. Charlotte looked pretty wrecked at the end, but I couldn’t tell if it was just her selling it really well.  Later, Alexa and Mickie’s big reveal built Monster!Nia up further, and I freaked the hell out at seeing Alexa. The only problem is, Nia gets way too close to being too real, to an extent that gets scary - and even if you don’t know much and don’t know what you’re looking for, you can feel something is out of place.

- The Wyatt teaser. I don’t really understand the logic of trading him. Eater of Worlds vs. Demon King has the potential to be pretty badass, but it kicks the whole Wyatt Family narrative right in the balls.

 -  Slut-shaming chants aimed at Maryse, who was leaning on the apron right in front of us during the Sami/Miz match, with her butt sticking out in some very accentuating black and rhinestone shorts. I think I yelled “I don’t agree with your decisions, Maryse, but I respect them!”

- The Roman backstage beatdown I have a lot of mixed feelings about. I’m not a fan of backstage beatings after a certain point - a few blows or throws to build up a plot are fine, but watching someone get full-on wrecked never sits well with me. Sometimes it just feels cheap. And this definitely did not sit well. As seat fillers, we were told that we should cheer or boo with the people around us, but I really couldn’t. I could not get down with it for a LOT of reasons, and was really glad not to be on camera. I know there were good plot reasons for it to happen this way, but I couldn’t really get into the tidal wave of emotion the rest of the audience was riding. If anything, it made me feel seasick. Especially when they started replaying it. Repeatedly.

Overall? Amazing night. Worthwhile experience. Some of the trades seemed to be set up well, some didn’t seem all that necessary, but it kind of has to be considered as a whole with Tuesday’s Smackdown. As the FIRST live WWE event that D and I have been to, it was really one for the books, and I would not trade it for anything. Even though it had its flaws, I was thrilled to death to be there, and grateful for every moment. Also, if you watch this and see some goofy platinum-blonde in a yellow scarf cheering and hollering her heart out next to a tall, long-haired ginger dude, let me know. I was flailing extra just for you.

[andrasteshaircurlers]

Alright to be fair this post should be titled: Let’s talk Lyrium, and world order, and how magic types relate to each other, and a lot of other shit because Tansy just finished Trespasser and is kind of freaking out. but that did not make as good a title.

See?

(As you can also tell I started this lore post a LONG time ago)

Basically the DLC was just one validation after another of some of the ideas I had lore wise that were so out there that I just sort of went NAH and didn’t really share them. It also validated lots I have spoken of but that’s beside the point.

There was literally so much to cover that I kept debating about how to mix it up for a while before finally deciding to just sort of dump it all in one place.

I ended up going with the Lyrium title because this has validated TWO crazy theories I had!

So basically I promise you there will be lyrium

There will just be a lot of other stuff too. Please keep reading. Unless of course you are a templar experiencing withdrawal in which case I advise you to… I don’t even know. Sorry buddy you’re screwed.

CRASH COURSE ON THEDAS WORLD ORDER!

Fade - Fade magic - spirits - sky/outerspace

Thedas - blood magic - us - Thedas

Void - Void Magic - dead people - Water

LYRIUM! LYRIUM EVERYWHERE!

I um... Might need to explain a bit more. Lemme just copy and paste from another of my posts

First let's look at magic. Blood/fade/void

We know how magic works for blood and fade “ A mage uses magic by tapping into the power of the Fade to essentially question reality, rendering it mutable and able to be reshaped. To this end, templars are the ideal foils for mages, having been trained specifically to counter and “deny” magic

http://higheverrains.tumblr.com/post/132465307323/circle-charts this post got me thinking

ok so basically Blood magic uses the power of real life of reality to shape spells Fade magic uses the fades power with it being a place of unfixed existence.

You got that? Thedas is reality, Fade is unfixed reality

The void as we see in the void magic performed in the Calling draws its power from lack of reality. It works by literally dissolving reality out of existence instead of changing it as fade magic does or creating it as blood magic seems to.

Side note: this is why blood magic can be so unexpected as in Last Flight. You are creating reality not changing it as Fade magic does.

Still with me here? Good,

According to the prima game guide  “ Spirits whose realms are flocked with visitors rise to rule great portions of the Fade, while memories and concepts forgotten in the real world slowly drift away back into the ether, the spirits who ruled them losing all potency”

This ether is also known as the abyss or void. It's the raw waters of the fade. It is nothing but nothing is powerful because nothing is just energy that has not been shaped yet.

This is the fade in its natural state. Before people touch it with their perceptions

Its also a storage place for the souls of the dead before they return

The void is the land of the dead. (as stated by so many cultures in thedas) Thedas is the land of the living. And the fade is the land of those who can neither live nor die.

Now then.

Titans figured out how to have dwarves not enter the fade. But instead be drawn to them and their wellspring to from their own private pool of knowledge.  These were the original memories. The accumulated knowledge of generations at the finger tips of new dwarves.

Sound like anything? The well of Sorrows. The elves took lyrium and “something else” That something else was souls.

This is how imortality works. Circumventing the void. Or rather making sure your full being is brought out into a new body.

Of course this does not explain my last little bit about space and stuff... So I Should started talking about that. 

It started with a crazy thought There are three realms of existence, three types of magic. 

But two big powerful animals? Titans and Great Dragons? Both of whom have blood with crazy special properties?

I don’t believe there is only two. I think one has not yet been revealed to us (Unless of course it’s the Cetus in which case we just don’t know shit)

Dear Bioware, please let it be this thing. Please let our heroes have to go out on boats to meet with it with only harpoons and fishhooks for defence, all like “Haha, we’re so screwed.”

 But basically It got me thinking, If Dragons ruled the skies, and Titans do their shaping thing in the stone what is left? 

BINGO! The Seas!

But that is crazy right and where did outerspace come from?

Well let me show you somthing

Heh-heh nice little rifty, please don’t swallow m-

No! What are we doing!?

OH MY G-D!!!

Gonna look back.... What the?

HOOOOBOY!

Welcome to the other side of the rift.

But wait there is more!

Nice Crossroads Green Forcefield thing.

Hmmm So this is the lowest point.... I wonder if I just

Is that what I think it is?

Thats right under the crossroads is an entire freaking forest.

Oh broken paths?

You mean like this?

A lot of people get frustrated about the geography of thedas and how it makes the sence. The thing is... It does. If you link the physical and the magical

But back to the concept of the seas.

Remember this in the fade?

Yeah I don’t think it was crestwood. Mostly because there is black water in the raw fade in DAO 

Wanna know what else was in the fade?

Which is interesting because in the past lyrium in the fade was blue

Why the change?

Well... It could be because we entered the fade physically 

Or it might have somthing to do with the part of the void we entered being connected to the void. I don’t think those fossils where an accident. Connecting water and death in a thing. As is connecting death and the void as I mentioned above.

We know the titan’s blood is lyrium 

We know it has a heart

New age crystal lovers eat your heart out!!!! Yes I am a crystal lover...

So let's ask the question. What do hearts and blood DO?

If our blood and hearts carry things like oxygen and the other nutrients we need... We have to ask what TITAN hearts and blood carry.

My theory since before trespasser has been that the awnser to this is souls. Lyrium transports souls through the void the fade and thedas.

Moving on.

Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you. In my arms lies Eternity.

In the book “The Calling” Merric speaks this verse while very likely in a titan.

What if this wellspring is a holder for souls. So that when Sha-Brytol die they can be brought back. A “secret to immortality”

What does this idea remind you of? Well it reminded me of The Well Of Sorrows.  

But that’s crazy right... WELLLLLL....

This is the “pure” Lyrium we see in Decent 

The Lyrium we see in trespasser however is different looking The following are two pictures of it taken at the same angle just moments apart.

Notice the shiny. It’s almost like the Lyrium has been charged somehow.  But charged how... FLYCAM TIME

Oh look at this... You know what it reminds me off?

Welcome to Uthenera

Close up more

Oh look Lyrium columns leading to...

The dark waters of the fade.  Shall we call this the void?

Diving boards are important for void sacrifices guys.

I’m about to propose somthing crazy guys.

What if Red Lyrium is not always evil?

Besides the fact that a Qunari inquisitor seems not to find Red Lyrium a bother in trespasser we have this.

Does this mean that Red Lyrium was once not blighted? or that the blight was once not bad? That there is some red Lyrium that is not bad?

The Elves in origins seem to suggest so.

This Camp should be doomed

But we have seen more than just blue and red lyrium

We’ve seen green Lyrium. FYI The Hissing Wastes is home to many Oddities

I know some suspect this might be a trick of the light But this does not look like a trick of the light to me.

Furthermore the Qunari in Trespasser seem to agree with me considering this is found in their little clubhouse.

SO if red lyrium is blighted lyrium.... Or rather void like Lyrium.... what is green lyrium..? 

The awnser came to me seeing the Fade Touched Lurker

found in Jaws of Hakkon.

Green Lyrium is fade touched lyrium... 

Which means that it is either like Veil Quartz... OR....

We have a possessed Titan somewhere!

Personally I bank on the Possessed Titan for two simple reasons.

First of all we find no green Lyrium in the Frostback Basin where both our fade touched friend above and veil quartz are...

ALSO

While we know that dwarves like using Lyrium in interior decorating...

We also see what could be other colors of lyrium in their decor...

From green...

To red and even yellow....

That this might be lyrium is given further credence by the fact that a Lyrium sales dwarf in Orzammar seems to be selling these decorations...

And that wraps up this lore post!

Thank you to @aqunaristateofbind for the Morrigan well graphic!

[moonprincess92]

Rebelcaptain fanfic: take me out tonight (3)

Chapter 1  Chapter 2 

Read on AO3 

Chapter 3: where all the scars 

    The third time they met wasn’t exactly all by chance.

    Jyn honestly hadn’t made any conscious decisions that would somehow lead her back to the side of the Rebel Intelligence Officer. He was a spy, a solider, it would be impossible to try and track him down in the first place. She hadn’t ever purposefully set out to try and find him again … but admittedly, she’d left a small piece of herself behind in that alleyway on Kariah, and she was starting to wonder whether she’d subconsciously attempted to fill its absence with the choices that had led her here anyway.

    Staring at him from across the crowded dance floor.

    Jyn had almost laughed when she’d seen him, because of course. Of course. It had barely been eight weeks since they had last left each other with only a searing kiss to remember on dark nights alone. And amazingly, she hadn’t seemed to have caught him while he was on a mission this time, unless dancing like that was one of the Alliance’s new tactics these days. Now that she looked back, all her choices must have had him in mind – it was rumoured that there was a rebel outpost based near this city, and the club she had found herself in had a name she could barely pronounce, the music something she’d never heard before (well, the language maybe she’d heard a little before). She’d actually been looking for a weapons smuggler, the name of which had ended up sending her to this place, but she had to have mixed it up in translation somewhere. She couldn’t imagine this being the type of place to be selling illegal weapons out of back rooms.

    The club was dark, but colourful. Bright lanterns and strings of bulbs flashed and lit up the otherwise black dance floor, which was heaving with bodies. They pulsed back and forth in time with the heavy beat and she watched as Cassian moved, dancing with several others with a kind of raw skill that could only come from childhood practice. His shirt was as stained as it had been on Kariah, but it was a different kind of sweat this time; the sweat of physical exertion, of movement and freedom. He must have sensed her gaze, because he eventually looked up across the floor and suddenly, their eyes were meeting.

    She did not have the right to feel so happy.

    Jyn wished she could look away. His face lit up under the lights as his eyes landed on her and he immediately started to edge through the crowd. Her heart was utterly pounding, panicking – what did she do? What should she do? What did she want to do? – until he reached her. She waited for him to say something, because she was quite certain she would choke on her own tongue if she tried.

    “I can’t believe it," he gaped, shaking his head. "are we both really here right now?” 

    “It would seem so.”

    His smile was something out of this galaxy. Her insides burned. She ached to be closer, but this man was too close already. Something inside her was pulling her towards him, even across worlds, apparently, and it was scaring her a lot. This wasn’t the way to stay safe, this was the way to rebellion and she didn’t want to admit that more and more each day, she was imagining what he would say if he could see her, living her life as a criminal and a thief. He would say her skills could be of better use somewhere else. Every day she wished that she’d had the courage to say ok.

    Who kept allowing them to meet like this? Jyn had never believed in fate, but she had been taught to trust the Force.

    Maybe there was something larger at work here after all.

    “Would you like a drink?” Cassian asked her.

    “There’s no need to buy me drinks this time, Cassian.”

    He grinned. “Then what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

    “We ask each other that way too often.”

    “Yes, but we never really get answers,” Cassian shrugged. She noticed him still swaying slightly to the beat of the music, like something inside him simply couldn’t help itself.

    “I was looking for a weapons smuggler, but I think I’ve gotten the wrong place. You?”

    “There’s a rebel outpost not far from here,” he kept his voice low, moving closer so that he could still be heard. She didn’t mind him stepping into her space, bending his mouth towards her ear. “I've been stationed there the last month or so, recruiting in the city.”

    “Did you ever find your missing recruits in the end?”

    “From Kariah? After tracking them halfway across the galaxy, yes,” Cassian answered. “It was a harder mission than I’d originally thought it would be.”

    “Oh, really?”

    “I ran into some trouble in places,” Cassian explained. “First, there was this guy in a cantina, but don’t worry, this seriously incredible girl shot him in the leg before he could get away. Then later on another planet, I was nearly arrested for unregistered possession of a weapon.”

    “You obviously got away.”

    “Yeah, would you believe that same girl was there?” Cassian asked. “She got us out of trouble. Amazing woman, I might be a bit enamoured.”

    “You ever see her again?”

    “I’m not sure,” Cassian said. “Sometimes I think I see her in a crowd somewhere, or just out of the corner of my eye, but I blink and it’s never her.”

    “Well, if she doesn’t turn up again,” Jyn offered her hand.

    Cassian took it. They were so close now that it was hard to retain eye contact, but there was something more intimate about this lack of space between them. She didn’t know what it was that kept drawing them in like this. There was something, a spark, a flame, that simultaneously sent shivers down her spine and set her on fire. And there was no denying that Cassian had to feel it as well. They were both as enamoured as each other apparently, and it was terrible and wonderful all at the same time.

    Jyn had never in her life intended on allowing herself this kind of luxury, and she feared it showed. She’d never before had the privilege of letting her guard down, and it was so incredibly stupid of her to be doing it now. She barely knew the man! They had only met twice and there was absolutely no room for mistakes or chances in her life, no room for drinks or dates or stolen, passionate kisses in alleyways. Cassian held her hand and for a moment, Jyn wondered if she felt this way only because of the longing she had for someone to care for her.

    It would make sense, after all.

    She sighed but Cassian obviously hadn't been clued in to where her thoughts had gone. After seeing him move out on the dance floor Jyn should have expected anything from him in response to her offering. However, she was still thrown when Cassian used the hand he held to suddenly twirl her under his arm. Uncoordinated, she staggered slightly as she faced him once more, the lights having blurred and burned into streaks behind her eyes. “What was that?” she burst out, face flushing red.

    “Don’t you dance?”

    “No,” she said firmly. “I’m horrible at it.”

    Cassian laughed a little as he said, “But I love to dance!” He let go of her hand to gesture around them. She regretted it a little. “The theme of this place is based on the culture of my home-planet. The man who owns it is also from Fest, and so are several other soldiers at the outpost, so we like to come here in the off hours, if we can.”

    “Is the dancing a Fest thing as well?” Jyn asked. She didn’t know much, if anything, about the planet Fest, but she was certain what she was seeing had to be unique in some way. She’d never seen dancing like it. The dance floor pulsed together with the beat, the movement all in the hips. She watched one couple nearby, the woman almost wrapped around her partner, singing to the words she didn’t understand as they thrusted and shimmied. Jyn might have looked away if she hadn’t been so mesmerised. It didn’t look like there was much to it, but then again, Jyn had never done such a thing in her life.

    Remembering Cassian dancing like that (let alone dancing with her like that) sent heat sizzling from head to toe.

    Cassian glanced back to the dance floor. “I wouldn’t say it’s any one style, but we do tend to get a little wild when we come together,” he answered her. “Are you sure you don’t dance?”

    “Don’t you dare,” Jyn threatened. “I wouldn’t have the first clue.”

    “Even when I know for a fact that you know how to move those hips of yours?” he teased. 

    His words sent her straight back to the alleyway on Kariah. Goddamn him, she thought. “That – that is not the same,” she bit out.

    “Ah – I see it,” Cassian reached out, took hold of both her hands this time. “Somewhere inside, a part of you wants to dance.”

    “No – Cassian!” Her heart suddenly burst into overdrive as he gently tugged on her hands, walking her backwards towards the dance floor. “Seriously, I can’t–”   

    “Can’t or won’t?”

    “Cassian–” But as much as she was protesting, she was still letting her feet get dragged after him, the two plunging into the depths of the crowd. The music hit her somewhere and he was right. She wanted to, more than she was willing to admit. Why did she always find herself here? Always wanting, always holding back, why couldn’t she ever just let herself enjoy things–?

    It was dancing. Just dancing, Jyn. If she could kiss this man, go to dinner with him, then surely she could dance with him, despite her embarrassment and severe lack of ability to move in time to anything.

    “I’ll warn you, I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I was horrible at this.”

    “Then it’s a good thing you don’t really need any skills,” Cassian must feel her slowly releasing the tension in her muscles, no longer resisting him. They had a spot deep in the crowd, and it felt like a dream; bodies jostled them from all angles, she could feel the music all the way in her chest. She wanted to move as close as the others were, she wanted to know how it felt to be wrapped around him like the woman she’d seen before, but she didn’t know where on earth to start. Luckily, Cassian had her.

    He let go of her hands to reach out for her waist. “First, bend your knees,” he told her. “Then, move your hips. Don’t worry about what anyone else is thinking, nobody cares what you look like, ok?”

    “Oh … nice to know,” Jyn glanced around anxiously.

    “Well, maybe I care a little,” Cassian mentioned. “but not how you’re probably fearing.”

    “Oh, I’m fearing it.”

    “There’s no such thing as a bad dancer,” Cassian insisted. “If you’re enjoying it, having a good time, then you’re dancing right.”

    His words sounded well and good, but it was hard to let go of the self-consciousness. She didn’t want to be that person who awkwardly thrust their hips, clearly having no idea what they were doing. Jyn found herself glancing around her once more, until Cassian brought her back. “Watch me,” he said, looking straight at her. “Don’t worry, just keep your eyes on me.”

    Her heart was still slamming, but she forced her gaze to stay on him. Finally, she at least tried to let go. Cassian’s hands at her waist were warm and heavy and she focused on them. She wanted to feel those hands everywhere, and that was the thought she kept in her head as she tried to fit in with the dance. He grinned as he moved with her. “That’s it–” he encouraged.

    “I feel ridiculous.”

    He laughed as the current song suddenly came to an end. For a second she felt a twinge of disappointment, but then the next kicked in and it drummed into her. This beat was faster, apparently more popular, as several people around them started cheering as the intro thumped out. The excitement was infectious, and with the faster beat, Jyn slowly got into a tentative rhythm. This song contained no lyrics, though the melody was still sung out in wordless humming and yelling. She let her hips swing, let Cassian move closer. His stance was low and they were eye to eye, able to match her grin as their bodies met. He took hold of her wrists and slung her arms around his neck. She had never moved like this with another person before and a thrill ripped through her where their hips met. They had come so close to spending a night moving like this in a rather different way. She had missed the way he felt against her body, the way his hands had wandered …

    There was no rhyme or reason to their dance. There were no pre-arranged steps, no choreography, just everything made up on the spot. Jyn found herself gaining slightly more confidence as the music carried on, picking up a slower grind as the beat changed again. Cassian’s hands burned as they roamed up and down her back. She was building a sweat that matched his and she didn’t care that she was too hot, that every roll of his hips made her flush even more. There was no need to speak, as their dancing did the talking for them, but she wanted to know more, wanted to know everything.

    “Have you always danced like this?” she yelled over the music. She kept one arm around his neck, the other hand trailing down his arm.

    “I used to dance in the streets as a kid,” Cassian admitted. “Everyone would. I don’t … I don’t dance as much these days.”

    “That Empire,” Jyn wasn’t quite sure what was coming over her. “maybe we’d all get along if they just danced a little.”

    He smirked. “You’re doing rather well for a girl who insisted she couldn’t dance.”

    “Get Vader on the comlink, I’ll give him lessons.” 

    Jyn Erso had never exactly been known for her humour. She didn’t know where in the galaxy that had even come from, but Cassian laughed. It was a ridiculous, head-thrown-back laugh that made her try and hide her face so that he wouldn’t see how much she liked it.

    “Jyn, I am so glad I met you.”

    His words struck her deep. So am I rang through her head, and it was honestly true. She had been wrong earlier. Somehow, this wasn’t an admiration coming from a place of loneliness, abandonment or isolation. This was something they’d found accidentally, something they hadn’t asked for, but gotten anyway. She could blame the Force, she could blame whatever she liked, but whether they had first met in that dirty cantina, here on this dance floor, or perhaps in several years’ time, she was sure that they’d still have whatever this connection was.

    The question was whether she was going to let herself do anything about it.

    “I’m not that good a dancer,” she muttered. 

    “No, no, you are perfect–” He took her hand, stepping back and pulling away, before spinning her back into his side. She stumbled through the turn, but found herself trying not to laugh as she slammed back into him.

    “I didn’t think the Rebel Alliance would consider dancing as a required skill for their forces.”

    “What if they did?” Cassian’s eyes said something as she was pulled back into his arms. He dipped her back, her hair threatening to escape the ratty bun she consistently wore it in.

    She felt brave enough to curl a leg around his as she was hauled back upright. “I might be convinced.”

    It took her a moment to realise that she wasn’t kidding. Maybe about the dancing being a prerequisite for signing up, but if the rebellion wanted her, Jyn realised that she could seriously let Cassian talk her into it. He was clearly thrown, but soon recovered enough to grin, their faces inches from each other. His hand ran over the leg she had wrapped around him and he hitched it up to his hip. She struggled to hold back a rather embarrassing noise at that. 

    “We could use your skills,” he said, voice slipping into something lower as they slowly moved. He was so close she could feel his breath, their foreheads pressed together, his nose bumping hers. “Jyn … come with me. Join.”

    This wasn’t so much a dance as it was an embrace now. She didn’t care.

    “It would be such a stupid decision …”

    “The rebellion is built on stupid decisions.”

    “I guess I really do hate the Empire …”

    “Enough to fight it?”

    Of course enough to fight it, but it wasn’t about that. It was about protecting herself against what had burned her in the past. The rebellion had hurt her, but if meeting Cassian had changed anything in her, it was that he had reminded her that doing nothing could be just as bad as working for the Empire.

    Not everyone had the choice to fight.

    She opened her eyes. Jyn wasn’t even sure when she’d closed them, but she opened them to see his face only to get distracted by something over his shoulder. She frowned at the man who had approached the club bar. His clothes were immaculate, formal – he stuck out from a mile away – and it was clear that patrons around him were uneasy at his presence. It set off the alarms in her head and Jyn knew by this point to never ignore her gut instincts. She squeezed Cassian’s shoulder.

    “I think we might be in trouble.”

    “Sorry?”

    “Someone just walked in and he looks like an Imperial – seriously!” she added at his face. She prompted them to spin, making it a part of the dance so that her back was now to the bar, Cassian able to spy over her.

    “I see him – that’s not right–” Cassian’s arms had been slung casually around her waist, only now she felt him tighten his grip slightly. “This is a nightclub, why would they–?”

    “Unless they know,” Jyn suddenly grabbed his arms. “Cassian! You said that you and the other rebels liked to come here, what if they found out? How many of you are here tonight?”

    Cassian stared at her for a second, then cursed loudly in that first language that was obviously native to Fest. She had to admire that it only took several seconds for him to go from a carefree man enjoying a night out to a hardened spy once more. “This entire place is a target,” Cassian snarled, letting her go to reach down and pull a small blaster from his boot. “I knew it was stupid, I’m so stupid – we have to get out of here, warn the others–” 

    BOOM.

    Before they could move anywhere, the Imperial it seemed had struck. The grenade thrown into the dance floor exploded with a force that threw them back several feet. Jyn hit the sticky floor, her ears ringing. Her body felt completely battered. Something hard landed on her, sending pain stabbing through her, but they had to move, move –

    “Cassian!” she couldn’t even hear her own voice. “Cassian!”

    “I’m here!” his voice was right next to her. It was dull and tinny but she could understand him at least. “Are you hurt?”

    “I don’t think so–”

    “Come on!” He grabbed her arm, both of them staggering to their feet. Jyn could hardly believe what had happened. Suddenly there were bodies everywhere, the music still pounding dully and adding to the din of screams and cries. The rebels who had been a part of the crowd were starting to converge, pulling blasters out of nowhere, yelling across the wreckage. The bar was burning, smoke starting to haze over. 

    “Jyn!” Cassian was yanking on her sleeve. “Jyn, can you hear me?!”

    “Mostly,” she said.

    “Where’s your weapon?”

    “I don’t have one, I told you I was here trying to find a smuggler!”

    Cassian cursed again, before reaching to his other boot where apparently, he had a second blaster (of course he did). He shoved it into her hands, ignoring the look she gave him at the thought of him coming out to a nightclub still armed somehow. He ran into the carnage, Jyn on his heels. “Stride!” he yelled.

    The man Jyn had seen dancing with the woman earlier looked up from the club floor. Stride's face was glazed with tears and was utterly furious. “Get back to base, Captain,” he ground out.

    “Is she–?”

    “I’m going to kill the sons of bitches,” Stride snarled, climbing back to his feet. Jyn felt something hit her when she noticed the woman at his feet.

    “I’ll call K-2, he’ll extract any of our wounded,” Cassian gripped the other rebel’s shoulder. “We need to make our own way–”

    The blaster bolt was shot right between them. Apparently hitting the club wasn’t enough: Stormtroopers had been called in to finish the job. Stride was lost in the sea of running, hiding, hitting the floor. Jyn’s brain was whirring as it tried to take in everything at once. She and Cassian both aimed at the troopers bursting in, running to take cover behind the half demolished bar.

    “This is familiar,” she mentioned.

    “Jyn,” Cassian turned to look at her desperately. “Are you with me?”

    At this point, there was no question.

    “All the way.”

    They managed to blast a gap through the line of fire. They burst out into the dark street, though the situation wasn't much better out there. The night had still been young, full of party-goers, and it was now a confused mess of chaos. Cassian was yelling into a comlink at anyone who might hear him: the aforementioned K-2, the rebel outpost, any of the others who may have survived the attack on the club. The Stormtroopers were actively going after them, apparently not caring how many civilians got in the way. Jyn covered as Cassian concentrated on speaking. He led the way, she had his back as they pushed through.

    “They’re following us from the club!” Jyn yelled to Cassian. She fired point blank at a trooper's head. “How do we lose them?”  

    “I don’t – WAIT–” Cassian shouted. “Left, left–”

    They hurtled around the corner. They had reached the main road, only to run into more terrified crowds of people. In the dark it was hard to pick apart faces, tell whether any of the other rebels had made it out of the club as well. They might not know until they got back to the base and found themselves the only ones there. Jyn glanced behind them and noticed the Stormtroopers agitatedly scanning the crowd. She let out a breath. If they could remain lost in the crowd, they may get out alive.

    And they had to get out alive.

    “It was stupid, so stupid,” Cassian was muttering.

    “Hey,” Jyn snapped, quickly hiding her blaster by tucking into her belt. “stop it, this wasn’t your fault.”

    “We – I should have known better,” Cassian practically spat, refusing to look at her. “I’m a soldier, damn it, I don’t know what the hell we were doing coming out here–”

    “You wanted a life,” Jyn grabbed his hand. It helped them stay together in the crowd, although she might have taken it anyway. “Cassian, if all you do is fight, spy, be a rebel, then you’re not even living. I know all about that. I never do anything for myself and I think tonight was the most fun I’ve ever had.” 

    They didn’t pause in the hurry of the crowd trying to get out of the city, but his gaze turned to her. It said everything he could have possibly said out loud.

    Unfortunately, they hit more problems further down the road. The Imperials had apparently set up a road block. It stretched the entire street, and Jyn was pretty sure that if they tried to find any other way out of the city, they would find that blocked as well. They both stopped dead.

    “What do we do?” Jyn asked.

    They carefully followed the crowd once more, slower now, trying to get closer to see what was happening. A large spotlight was beaming down on the road block, showing the Imperials who were ruthlessly checking and scanning everyone who was trying to get through. Jyn tried not to let it affect her, but immediately she knew how this was going to go down before Cassian even said anything. Her heart was sinking until it was gone  completely.

    “We blend in,” Cassian said determinedly. “They only suspect a rebel outpost, they don’t know who exactly we are. We’re won’t be on record, they’ll think we’re just civilians who got stuck in the crossfire. Just don’t show your blaster and stay close–”

    “I can’t go through.”

    Cassian stared at her. “What do you mean?”

    “You might not be on record,” Jyn couldn’t take her eyes away from the Imperials. “but I am.”

    And it wasn’t just another alias that would be on file. No other name would be as recognisable as Jyn Erso (daughter of Galen Erso). She hated her father now more than ever. She would be detained, taken away at once. Maybe her father was dead, she didn’t know, but maybe he was alive and they would force her to help him work for the Empire. Maybe he had defected, run away, and they would torture her for news of his whereabouts. Whatever might happen to her, the possibilities were endless, and she wasn’t getting this far just to get arrested by the goddamn Empire.

    No way.

    “I’ll find another way out,” Jyn said.

    “Then I’ll come too–”

    “Don’t even think about it,” she thundered. “You go through the check point. I’ll meet you somewhere. Do you know anywhere I can easily find?”

    Cassian was staring at her once more. That look said many things. But this was the only choice, the only way she could get through and still go with him, still join the rebellion. She hadn’t ever given him a direct answer, but he must know. She refused to needlessly endanger him and wasn't going to fight him on it. He must have known it would be no use to argue as eventually, he sighed and told her of a drop off point the rebels often used, in a warehouse on the road east out of the city.

    “I will see you there,” Cassian insisted.

    “You will,” Jyn said.

    She needed to let go, but her fingers only clenched around his tighter. In the shadows at the edge of the anxious crowd, they both moved. Maybe one day they would have a kiss that wasn’t desperate, wasn’t limited by time or ever cut short, but today was not that day. They gripped each other tightly, much like they had on the dance floor. She didn’t think, just breathed him in as his hands held her face.

    She had fallen far too deep into this. She was starting to be ok with that.

    “I’ll see you on the other side,” she said, forcing herself to pull away.

    “I’m holding you to it,” Cassian answered.

    She turned and ran.

[babyawacs]

whhhyyyyy!!!!! r o b u s t o  AND creamy?! @norway @norwegia .@fisa .@norway @judge .@ju dge @judges @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @haaretzcom @snowden aha!!!! peanutbutter b etween nuts batshit nuts! but... why?! the brand?! r o b u s t o  a n d creamy that that that a dunno thatsgotta mean sth ... rig ht?... ********* without access mess average,median, and mean identificationtimeframe s with ai. and by experience  ********* with access to the case:  ///// find xraybeamtrick allda ylikely beta or radar bythe way lawyers ofmine ******* make sure germans cannot use doc-ification everagain with u tmost severe consequences but for things they wait longer than three years threemonths thr ee days younameit andforemost eachofthem signs under oath the  i  n  t e l terrors w itnessed including whatthe civillian demystified and them   pokemon openmouth woa + wtf * ********* trickery with docification as game for find sth youcan distort twistlater to justify a shitball while allalong itis intel murder that is over orthey hang with the s cums symbolically (notliterally) ///// tinitus from deceit trick allday whatisit th is time momfool brainwashaway fof fortune mom theperverted doing moms itsalljsut a dr eam yourenot you tonaswinn ihave dismal transvetite emotions and want to be molested by horny germans because theyre so german and im so terribly not germa n what is it this time again /// / ffind backleg tricks for boner implant remtoeocntroleld itisntjsu t biting hemmmorides itis buzzing installs tactically timed to what xray murder beam killtrick fromcockroach above aboveadjancent is priority //// / itis unusually mild since anhour or two whosnew usually its p oisons damamges suffocations xraybeam terror find xraybeam killtrick fromabove above ajdancent and window aimed otherwise miraclemild I am Christi an KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophistication #THINKTANK + #INTE L #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +493212 61 1 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss ///// gaser is likely xray to terrorise or and frame something stuff them their mix galore chekc ifthey h ost a cockroach clown german  //// rep alcedphone sucks whofucktit bbombout xray murderer and disgust messer   1607 as xraym urderer gaser beam messer 1550+-10 ///// replacedphone 1525 heartaimed 1526 /// 1524 pathogen murder relelvant? //// a piece of crud druged me drowsy agian 1515+-5 stuffemtheirown mix g a l o r e i f cockroach german cockroach efforts imminent danger itis bad choice regrettably itis effort cockroach dont touch the wall dont tocuhthat guy find sth else todo ///// medics those spikes are r e s t i n g heartrates itis surprising that the fitnesstracker identifies heart on edge itis not howitis without damamged hbeart itdoesnt have even coffee or other things that co uld pushit up itis resting recovery and critical heartonedge allalong btw //// la wyers make em sign or readoutloud this is the eigth year on edge of existence and its bee n a joy to see him struggle on 200amonth with billions on the accounts micromanaged fro m 67billions to 90billions recently but he court demanded access to his own fortune wi th intiative fromwithin the bubble and against not a missed formality immunisation but aga isnt a quelled quelled immunisation keeping him that way  is intent yes and itis a joy tosee how he struggles the eigth year on 200 amonth and yes we want to tax his billions or someow chain it or sex it or someh ow killit anything aslong as we can pillage it see? abit hone sty  howlikely willthey admit the obvious //// oh please for thegermans its suicide whenyou cut 50buck s from foodmoney everymontbh not toget amalgam teethfills they urgently rescue you from imminent starvation death the 8th year  than give you access to your own court demanded fortune  they imminently take away your rights that a german that quells any fucking e bay sale or booksale germancures you urgently they dont store miracles of micromanag ement cutting chowpennies topayoff bullshit idont even owe realtime they see  c on f u s i o n it just  mysteriously somehow always adds up and somehow micromanages chowpennies for abit semisafe IT hardware and phone for s o m e t h i n g not too contract chain bond ing  they are confused by complexmicromanaging but get a c c ce s ss s to damamge you to alzheimer granny because thats tthats how they lockaway the grannies inthis very shit hole so whynot inthiscase too youknow em andifnot then th enby now today this veryday fortune access avertedby who 22p m-2208 shoudlveshown 15billion fortune a  sixth of my totalfortune what didit show st oreit notarstampit sowhat isaw publish it iput it asclose tomouthaspossible as on local bank once that efforted fraudit taxit as nutbum threeyears ago ///// store onlinebanking 2200pm@+8 itshould show 15billion  a sixth of my total fortune did it show sth realtime if so wha t //// disintegrated wall and tape matters checkfor xray tricks and calculateback the gray s for a l l l l cumulated  #suffocator #squeeze  #crayon #macca roni #advice #right #ominuous #obscurity #is #a #conflict @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @fisa @law @harvard_law @all @world #crayonMaccaroniAdvice  unknow obscurity is a conf lict theme in intelccoma test helmet themes buildit around the issue ****** a is it known then  b issue:  trait: yes or no? c issue: trait: instead? how ******** dont misuse it for bad the stateofmind point a to g  point a to h is critical inthis t oo smashwords.com/books/view/552210 I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophistication #THINKTANK + #INTEL #HEL LHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss //// youdont freeze disobe y teenagers into a tube because thbey wouldve been executed fortheir deed you make su re its understood what happened  waht it will mean for him h er what it f e e l s w h a t it l e a d s to and then learni ng effect then orientation person with routine away from the bad this //// btw fix heartonedge frombacklegtricks  regenerate donot add oldwounds mengele mess checkalso finedust harms nano finedust what doesit dowith veinwall bloodsupply //// they mustve implied Sexuality in their assaults its inexplicable #lawyers .@law  @law .@laws .@harvar d_law @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @snowden @haaretzcom separate it clearly that itis not sexuality but them imply that that thereisno frivolous gains but them imply that th at even if some would fit preference, does not undo allthe assaults that are beyond good a nd evil that it iiiiis about them and that all knew that  ******* the gain the benefit t he what for was in something else than about that guy  letalone about sexuality ofthat guy ******* this.  is probably not separated c learly checkthat youre the pro s  /// dont get nuts over it, its not so complicated: because. it. is. intel. it.is .all about . which. trick. works. thistime. get furious about it  not nuts about it itis layer1 causing authorities with control accomplice rapedmolested damamged themselves whatthey ca n  host layer2 cockroaches immunsied todowhat wish hope pretend youre their underhuman c andowhattheywant with civillians usually willalways try sth . coordinated more orless or invited orhosted only as proxies dont get nuts about it get mad about it isuggest: a s ero tolerance dont touch it. offthewalls. off the health. itdoesntmatter what youwant whaty oupretend what youtry donttouchit. if youre support coordinate with support your ideas are: /// what doyou do about 19years of microscopy while they shuffled sexual asssa ult  then someone germancures your nuts to a smeary fatty or sth because they s u s p e c t something this. itisntjust shuffled sexual assault itisntjust deedtyped allalong iit is deedtyped after daytimecharging it  repeatedly risking allmyrights and anythin g to because thecausing authorities quell the charging and thefix  the fix is letmore and shuffle more sexual assault and try togive it an alibi nomatter how counterfactuall this. what is against this.  //// lawy ers ofmine  ******** had one single trick worked unthinkable what wouldhappen next: dis assemble this trick ie: because we declare him nuts we dont compensate what we overtape allalong because he aeh molests little furry sexcat s and sex hedgehogs, we must not com pensate what we damage rape and smear. this ********** had one trick worked unthin kable ////// #lawyers  law .@laws .@ harvard_law @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @snowden @haaretzcom what is the state ofmind of the charged government: when they just have to find a trick that puts you inyourplace a trick that you give up  atrick that resets your brain a trick that shows they dominate y ou and you must obey like youhave no choice  this is the stateof mind this itis idontcare whatthey fake idont care howthey goodc op badcop idontcare how they play sorry theyrenot this. is their stateofmind what do you do about it it explains a long long lattice of messes and dirty tricks furthermore ////// #sexland #sex #land @all @world @globe @booking  .@law .@laws .@harvard_law @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @snow den @haaretzcom youjustdont getit the german goverment rapes thecivil population th at is not immunised against  intel coma s wheres the news they porn the c r a p out of em they sell em as sexslave on intelcoma if they can they preplan their careerrs and setemup who exploits who first and benefit s how they controlem like forehead braincooked fools like children like fools they hold as underhuman exploitable underhumans that is the basis of it all when a civillian daytime charged the basis oftheir security system: they did any harm they remotely had then used proxies then played good cop bad cop hunting them ebcause we forced em to and this is the basis ofthe case guilty liable causing criminal governments that dow hatthey want withthe civil population charged daytime for staying damamges and coverup a nd hightheft using their security system as prison gig trick is that clear now itis n ot a single case itisnot the german hookerofthe land itis one of 60million abused civill ians that charged the crap out of em for whatthey did here with the civil population for70ye ars ////// btw2  get allthe clowns offmy privacy  superprivacy i n t i m a c y  the scums meld their perverts onthe cas e and see if later daytiem anything is confirmation tothat thenits confirmed orsth jai l asstoyer dicktoyermolester itis disgusting cockroaches that reinterpret on deeply intim ate things after raping and pedo sexual assaulting nomatter how often idaytime chbarge it i am furious  about it the cockroa ches braindamamge forehead and suffocate the c r a po outof me and damamge eraseme iha te em its legit to  and iam furious about it idaytime chargedit atleastfive times loc ally and fivetimes eu they shuffle sexual assault repeat humiliate and seee how pervert you are coifirmation i hate them idontlive by hate minors wemust rescue but  the scums get offfffthe case andif wehav e tohunt the scums for the authorities the authroties gotojailwithem they host em cov erem anyway host em whenthey cant tax it a trickfailed then itnensified pedo tricks thisishowit works its  criminal governmen t  authrotieis criminal authorities shuffling proxies guilty liable accomplice contr ol usually maybe unbriefed fools that get shit into their head to mess wit an excuse sero tolerance with sexual  abuse s exual assault the authorities do their job and hunt thweir cockroaches and if we must theygotojailwit h the scums they sat and let rapes poisosn rapes galore arbi trary whattttheywant whowants cinema grocerystore chameber arbitrary rapoes rape i nschool and cinema arbtirary rtape ******** rape allthtime manytiems deedtyped w e force them to huntheir cockroach german cockroaches thatthey are withthe authroities or they goto jail  both withthe scums when wemust huntem an this we must do ***************** //// lawyers that is 90billion euro s fortune of earned tbhings wit h what icould ninety billion before like 67billion do you wonder what scums would do when they think its vulnerable or get ac cess with a trick  beit separating it away from that guy they dowaht they want with and a ct like its mysteriously created not from what thatguy could and did it is ninety b illion a share of which wealth generated you donot make it vulnerable to anyone a matt er of granted or not granted if a trick works  or sth itis da ytime court demanded ina mess where they quell immunisation and quze lled the case intothe daytimebubble inthe firstplace they shuffle tricks like bum med s or braindamamged fool careers and its just your own fault that you mysteriously didnt p ick a dayfool career while allrealdeal wouldnt matter this shi t you get off me and you get rational about what kinds of scums w ill a l w a y s try sth about the fo rtune if it seems arbitrary separated away fromthat guy and thatguys performance syst emic trickery to be g r a n t e d  maybe when he doestn rememeber or is incapacitated and allthese shits if he as dayfoolsomehow something they trashcan killtrick and h arm and hookertrick and degrade as if the fortune wouldnt be real and asif i daytime deman ded my ufo or sth seriously. harden th e fortune from bullshit systemic ornot bust separation tricks of fortune and thatguy p erformance of thatguy separatedaway and be rational about wha t scums will a l w a y s try sth th at is ************* 90billion from this very head of what icoul d and the yeffort braindamage and heartkill and bum meds and gurtslock andpathogens and tobe granted or not separation of fortune and performance asif im a fool they put in a froze n tube and keepthemoney trick at best thefffff ff f f f f f f f ff f f f f f invol ve serious insurances and reinsurers ifnecessary include atomic hardening serobullshits agaisnt fraudsystems and criminal govts and thanks forall ******* ******** ///// what mom theme is the theme ididnt know moms or sth and ididntmind  itis agerman shitball about underdevelopment usually or perversion s or sth asif you sense mom s or sth because thats what you surely want thatkindof german ness //// lawyers because imminent danger and war is so severely bad enough i say no capital punishments whenever possible:! a l w a y s no capital punishment no deathpenta lty scums go tojail cant be fun in there important is they understand they dodged ca pital punishment for real I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophisticat ion #THINKTANK + #INTEL #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com P HONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss //// xraybeam trick heartaimed //// 1634 repair? or leechery /// pathogen murderer gases 1518 batih above abovesdjancent or cirucitboard. squeezetheockroach shifted from x raytrick before //// xray murderbeam beta highpowered orand transmutation 1500 1511 abo ve aboveadjkacent knows I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophisticatio n #THINKTANK + #INTEL #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com P HONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss /// after which damage and degradation would #you! have said: "mmaaayn adunno.. allthe b eer and stuff and their fhaaantastic cars drivingby .. but youknow.. ikinda miss my genita ls..." for them it makes sense //// int elligence genomes more from the mother  usually has also some implications of why it is as it is shewas morelike lisa simpson and dodged studying inthe 70s because parent got ill and died then got hepatitis next year then met my dad with his heavymotor bike  another li fe spoiled (haha) /// the glorious german careers with those stamps visualise it /// it wouldbe epic justice if germans would try to pillgage the case but oneof their ea rlier damage tricks fucks em instead letalone any invention after which staying harms it doesnt work both ways, einstein can be cooked to a fool but a fool cannot be einstein as extreme example //// this howthey are mustve been obviosu other cases too ofreai ltime botch things #failed #virginity #test #2001 .@law @harvard_law @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @haaretzcom @snowden .@fisa @judge .@judge @judges  because the germans damag e their civillians fairly arbitrarily and cover these with standard stigmas thisis how it r eally is allalong ***** lets find the cover alibis like retard stamps itis a stigma dyslectic me!! (nickname schnellschreiber 3rd/felt abit artificial bllah) but dyslect ic- it is ? a stigma ***** virginity ?! meh. unless its a sti gma  one shitball bites  the other b ut that doesnt keepem from right. then. getting away with something damnthe factuality basis I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophistic ation #THINKTANK + #INTEL #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss /// demand a hook on abstracthumour abstract analysis fromfools they  dont getit toooousually /// backlegv to genital im plant is hiughly heartkill relelvant makesure theresno damamge added so gutslock guts usdudue rmeotecontrolled the technology is masseldorn badenser whale landesverfassungs schutz //// squeeze lympahtic aimer 2310+-2 its like eastern sexdrug orso //// xraybeam heartaimedd leftchestaimed radar or beta transmutation allthetime as 20pm 2 020 2040 2245 allthetime //// store onlinebanking 2100+-7 woa backleg heartkillrelelvant 2107 acesser squeeze after this ma il: "whatis hkkaz,hkcaz,hkccs abbreviations inthe local bank account wahtis fortune am ount total" //// which fortune sums over which timeframes  make sure its notarstamped courtusable and when daytimedemanded daytime court demanded iget damaged chav harmed all the time find xraybeamtrick 2 040 20pm-2020pm //// authorites gotojail when wemust hunt pathogen murderer above fo r em letaloneif theauthroites grant em access or cause thekilltrick ///theyarenot comp etent they shuffle scums that try sth. pathogen murderer above 1500 stuffhimthemix galore. allofit onsite .  who was onthe case 12,000persons andthefinest another good indicatio n for intel #sex #sexual #potence #balls #trick @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 .@world @w orld @all because itis intel itis which trick works. batshitnuts? criminal? terrorist? pedo ? fool? alljust adream nowhy was sth because itis intel which trick works has a l w a y s beenthegame isuspect people know  but thats not the case youmay count the shu ffled harms priming (itis a chip bring all bananas: academic: wtf?!??why everyone throwin g banaanas atme) framing (as the transvestite that he is, yousee he has long hair: you: t heffffff?!?!???) woodbride (he sits alone inhis chamber and designs bride dresses for hi s great wedding day ahead. which may eventually occur s o m e d a y/ he hopes it increases his sexual potence if he adds allkinds of balls on it blah) smashwords.com/books/view/55 2210 /// howmany harms like guts and genitals and ass and facebone were from 2004 it was bad and experiment killit  but itwasnot these 5years intnsified killtricks with shuf fled any harm leecheries morbusmake  backlegheartdiease poisons xrays mengeles  path ogens  lympahtic aimed tricks gutssubdue dozens of headimacts nanofineduts obscure t ricks like lifetime leech and fibrin leech andsuch  and interoxid austausch arsenide suffo cate trisk  itis constant try anything that it dies whichtrick thistime with plausibl e deniability I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophistication #THINKTAN K + #INTEL #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +4 93212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss /// because i tis intel itis which trick works. batshitnuts? criminal? terrorist? pedo? fool? alljust ad ream nowhy was sth because itis intel which trick works has a l w a y s beenthegam e isuspect people know  but thats not the case youmay count the shuffled harms primi ng (itis a chip bring all bananas: academic: wtf?!??why everyone throwing banaanas atme) framing (as the transvestite that he is, yousee he has long hair: you: theffffff?!?!???) woodbride (he sits alone inhis chamber and designs bride dresses for his great wedding da y ahead. which may eventually occur s o m e d a y/ he hopes it increases his sexual potence if he adds allkinds of balls on it blah) smashwords.com/books/view/552210 /// howma ny harms like guts and genitals and ass and facebone were from 2004 it was bad and exper iment killit  but itwasnot these 5years intnsified killtricks with shuffled any harm leecheries morbusmake  backlegheartdiease poisons xrays mengeles  pathogens  lympahti c aimed tricks gutssubdue dozens of headimacts nanofineduts obscure tricks like lifetim e leech and fibrin leech andsuch  and interoxid austausch arsenide suffocate trisk  itis constant try anything that it dies whichtrick thistime with plausible deniability I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophistication #THINKTANK + #INTEL #HELLHOL E #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 He lpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – R aw Independent Sophistication #THINKTANK + #INTEL #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.c om/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. p aypal.me/ChristianKiss I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophistication #T HINKTANK + #INTEL #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss I am Chr istian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophistication #THINKTANK + #INTEL #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss

whhhyyyyy!!!!! r o b u s t o  AND creamy?! @norway @norwegia .@fisa .@norway @judge .@ju dge @judges @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @haaretzcom @snowden aha!!!! peanutbutter b etween nuts batshit nuts! but… why?! the brand?! r o b u s t o  a n d creamy that that that a dunno thatsgotta mean sth … rig ht?… ********* without access mess average,median, and mean identificationtimeframe s with ai. and by experience  ********* with access to the case:  ///// find xraybeamtrick allda ylikely beta or radar bythe way lawyers ofmine ******* make sure germans cannot use doc-ification everagain with u tmost severe consequences but for things they wait longer than three years threemonths thr ee days younameit andforemost eachofthem signs under oath the  i  n  t e l terrors w itnessed including whatthe civillian demystified and them   pokemon openmouth woa + wtf * ********* trickery with docification as game for find sth youcan distort twistlater to justify a shitball while allalong itis intel murder that is over orthey hang with the s cums symbolically (notliterally) ///// tinitus from deceit trick allday whatisit th is time momfool brainwashaway fof fortune mom theperverted doing moms itsalljsut a dr eam yourenot you tonaswinn ihave dismal transvetite emotions and want to be molested by horny germans because theyre so german and im so terribly not germa n what is it this time again /// / ffind backleg tricks for boner implant remtoeocntroleld itisntjsu t biting hemmmorides itis buzzing installs tactically timed to what xray murder beam killtrick fromcockroach above aboveadjancent is priority //// / itis unusually mild since anhour or two whosnew usually its p oisons damamges suffocations xraybeam terror find xraybeam killtrick fromabove above ajdancent and window aimed otherwise miraclemild I am Christi an KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophistication #THINKTANK + #INTE L #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +493212 61 1 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss ///// gaser is likely xray to terrorise or and frame something stuff them their mix galore chekc ifthey h ost a cockroach clown german  //// rep alcedphone sucks whofucktit bbombout xray murderer and disgust messer   1607 as xraym urderer gaser beam messer 1550+-10 ///// replacedphone 1525 heartaimed 1526 /// 1524 pathogen murder relelvant? //// a piece of crud druged me drowsy agian 1515+-5 stuffemtheirown mix g a l o r e i f cockroach german cockroach efforts imminent danger itis bad choice regrettably itis effort cockroach dont touch the wall dont tocuhthat guy find sth else todo ///// medics those spikes are r e s t i n g heartrates itis surprising that the fitnesstracker identifies heart on edge itis not howitis without damamged hbeart itdoesnt have even coffee or other things that co uld pushit up itis resting recovery and critical heartonedge allalong btw //// la wyers make em sign or readoutloud this is the eigth year on edge of existence and its bee n a joy to see him struggle on 200amonth with billions on the accounts micromanaged fro m 67billions to 90billions recently but he court demanded access to his own fortune wi th intiative fromwithin the bubble and against not a missed formality immunisation but aga isnt a quelled quelled immunisation keeping him that way  is intent yes and itis a joy tosee how he struggles the eigth year on 200 amonth and yes we want to tax his billions or someow chain it or sex it or someh ow killit anything aslong as we can pillage it see? abit hone sty  howlikely willthey admit the obvious //// oh please for thegermans its suicide whenyou cut 50buck s from foodmoney everymontbh not toget amalgam teethfills they urgently rescue you from imminent starvation death the 8th year  than give you access to your own court demanded fortune  they imminently take away your rights that a german that quells any fucking e bay sale or booksale germancures you urgently they dont store miracles of micromanag ement cutting chowpennies topayoff bullshit idont even owe realtime they see  c on f u s i o n it just  mysteriously somehow always adds up and somehow micromanages chowpennies for abit semisafe IT hardware and phone for s o m e t h i n g not too contract chain bond ing  they are confused by complexmicromanaging but get a c c ce s ss s to damamge you to alzheimer granny because thats tthats how they lockaway the grannies inthis very shit hole so whynot inthiscase too youknow em andifnot then th enby now today this veryday fortune access avertedby who 22p m-2208 shoudlveshown 15billion fortune a  sixth of my totalfortune what didit show st oreit notarstampit sowhat isaw publish it iput it asclose tomouthaspossible as on local bank once that efforted fraudit taxit as nutbum threeyears ago ///// store onlinebanking 2200pm@+8 itshould show 15billion  a sixth of my total fortune did it show sth realtime if so wha t //// disintegrated wall and tape matters checkfor xray tricks and calculateback the gray s for a l l l l cumulated  #suffocator #squeeze  #crayon #macca roni #advice #right #ominuous #obscurity #is #a #conflict @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @fisa @law @harvard_law @all @world #crayonMaccaroniAdvice  unknow obscurity is a conf lict theme in intelccoma test helmet themes buildit around the issue ****** a is it known then  b issue:  trait: yes or no? c issue: trait: instead? how ******** dont misuse it for bad the stateofmind point a to g  point a to h is critical inthis t oo smashwords.com/books/view/552210 I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophistication #THINKTANK + #INTEL #HEL LHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss //// youdont freeze disobe y teenagers into a tube because thbey wouldve been executed fortheir deed you make su re its understood what happened  waht it will mean for him h er what it f e e l s w h a t it l e a d s to and then learni ng effect then orientation person with routine away from the bad this //// btw fix heartonedge frombacklegtricks  regenerate donot add oldwounds mengele mess checkalso finedust harms nano finedust what doesit dowith veinwall bloodsupply //// they mustve implied Sexuality in their assaults its inexplicable #lawyers .@law  @law .@laws .@harvar d_law @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @snowden @haaretzcom separate it clearly that itis not sexuality but them imply that that thereisno frivolous gains but them imply that th at even if some would fit preference, does not undo allthe assaults that are beyond good a nd evil that it iiiiis about them and that all knew that  ******* the gain the benefit t he what for was in something else than about that guy  letalone about sexuality ofthat guy ******* this.  is probably not separated c learly checkthat youre the pro s  /// dont get nuts over it, its not so complicated: because. it. is. intel. it.is .all about . which. trick. works. thistime. get furious about it  not nuts about it itis layer1 causing authorities with control accomplice rapedmolested damamged themselves whatthey ca n  host layer2 cockroaches immunsied todowhat wish hope pretend youre their underhuman c andowhattheywant with civillians usually willalways try sth . coordinated more orless or invited orhosted only as proxies dont get nuts about it get mad about it isuggest: a s ero tolerance dont touch it. offthewalls. off the health. itdoesntmatter what youwant whaty oupretend what youtry donttouchit. if youre support coordinate with support your ideas are: /// what doyou do about 19years of microscopy while they shuffled sexual asssa ult  then someone germancures your nuts to a smeary fatty or sth because they s u s p e c t something this. itisntjust shuffled sexual assault itisntjust deedtyped allalong iit is deedtyped after daytimecharging it  repeatedly risking allmyrights and anythin g to because thecausing authorities quell the charging and thefix  the fix is letmore and shuffle more sexual assault and try togive it an alibi nomatter how counterfactuall this. what is against this.  //// lawy ers ofmine  ******** had one single trick worked unthinkable what wouldhappen next: dis assemble this trick ie: because we declare him nuts we dont compensate what we overtape allalong because he aeh molests little furry sexcat s and sex hedgehogs, we must not com pensate what we damage rape and smear. this ********** had one trick worked unthin kable ////// #lawyers  law .@laws .@ harvard_law @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @snowden @haaretzcom what is the state ofmind of the charged government: when they just have to find a trick that puts you inyourplace a trick that you give up  atrick that resets your brain a trick that shows they dominate y ou and you must obey like youhave no choice  this is the stateof mind this itis idontcare whatthey fake idont care howthey goodc op badcop idontcare how they play sorry theyrenot this. is their stateofmind what do you do about it it explains a long long lattice of messes and dirty tricks furthermore ////// #sexland #sex #land @all @world @globe @booking  .@law .@laws .@harvard_law @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @snow den @haaretzcom youjustdont getit the german goverment rapes thecivil population th at is not immunised against  intel coma s wheres the news they porn the c r a p out of em they sell em as sexslave on intelcoma if they can they preplan their careerrs and setemup who exploits who first and benefit s how they controlem like forehead braincooked fools like children like fools they hold as underhuman exploitable underhumans that is the basis of it all when a civillian daytime charged the basis oftheir security system: they did any harm they remotely had then used proxies then played good cop bad cop hunting them ebcause we forced em to and this is the basis ofthe case guilty liable causing criminal governments that dow hatthey want withthe civil population charged daytime for staying damamges and coverup a nd hightheft using their security system as prison gig trick is that clear now itis n ot a single case itisnot the german hookerofthe land itis one of 60million abused civill ians that charged the crap out of em for whatthey did here with the civil population for70ye ars ////// btw2  get allthe clowns offmy privacy  superprivacy i n t i m a c y  the scums meld their perverts onthe cas e and see if later daytiem anything is confirmation tothat thenits confirmed orsth jai l asstoyer dicktoyermolester itis disgusting cockroaches that reinterpret on deeply intim ate things after raping and pedo sexual assaulting nomatter how often idaytime chbarge it i am furious  about it the cockroa ches braindamamge forehead and suffocate the c r a po outof me and damamge eraseme iha te em its legit to  and iam furious about it idaytime chargedit atleastfive times loc ally and fivetimes eu they shuffle sexual assault repeat humiliate and seee how pervert you are coifirmation i hate them idontlive by hate minors wemust rescue but  the scums get offfffthe case andif wehav e tohunt the scums for the authorities the authroties gotojailwithem they host em cov erem anyway host em whenthey cant tax it a trickfailed then itnensified pedo tricks thisishowit works its  criminal governmen t  authrotieis criminal authorities shuffling proxies guilty liable accomplice contr ol usually maybe unbriefed fools that get shit into their head to mess wit an excuse sero tolerance with sexual  abuse s exual assault the authorities do their job and hunt thweir cockroaches and if we must theygotojailwit h the scums they sat and let rapes poisosn rapes galore arbi trary whattttheywant whowants cinema grocerystore chameber arbitrary rapoes rape i nschool and cinema arbtirary rtape ******** rape allthtime manytiems deedtyped w e force them to huntheir cockroach german cockroaches thatthey are withthe authroities or they goto jail  both withthe scums when wemust huntem an this we must do ***************** //// lawyers that is 90billion euro s fortune of earned tbhings wit h what icould ninety billion before like 67billion do you wonder what scums would do when they think its vulnerable or get ac cess with a trick  beit separating it away from that guy they dowaht they want with and a ct like its mysteriously created not from what thatguy could and did it is ninety b illion a share of which wealth generated you donot make it vulnerable to anyone a matt er of granted or not granted if a trick works  or sth itis da ytime court demanded ina mess where they quell immunisation and quze lled the case intothe daytimebubble inthe firstplace they shuffle tricks like bum med s or braindamamged fool careers and its just your own fault that you mysteriously didnt p ick a dayfool career while allrealdeal wouldnt matter this shi t you get off me and you get rational about what kinds of scums w ill a l w a y s try sth about the fo rtune if it seems arbitrary separated away fromthat guy and thatguys performance syst emic trickery to be g r a n t e d  maybe when he doestn rememeber or is incapacitated and allthese shits if he as dayfoolsomehow something they trashcan killtrick and h arm and hookertrick and degrade as if the fortune wouldnt be real and asif i daytime deman ded my ufo or sth seriously. harden th e fortune from bullshit systemic ornot bust separation tricks of fortune and thatguy p erformance of thatguy separatedaway and be rational about wha t scums will a l w a y s try sth th at is ************* 90billion from this very head of what icoul d and the yeffort braindamage and heartkill and bum meds and gurtslock andpathogens and tobe granted or not separation of fortune and performance asif im a fool they put in a froze n tube and keepthemoney trick at best thefffff ff f f f f f f f ff f f f f f invol ve serious insurances and reinsurers ifnecessary include atomic hardening serobullshits agaisnt fraudsystems and criminal govts and thanks forall ******* ******** ///// what mom theme is the theme ididnt know moms or sth and ididntmind  itis agerman shitball about underdevelopment usually or perversion s or sth asif you sense mom s or sth because thats what you surely want thatkindof german ness //// lawyers because imminent danger and war is so severely bad enough i say no capital punishments whenever possible:! a l w a y s no capital punishment no deathpenta lty scums go tojail cant be fun in there important is they understand they dodged ca pital punishment for real I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophisticat ion #THINKTANK + #INTEL #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com P HONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss //// xraybeam trick heartaimed //// 1634 repair? or leechery /// pathogen murderer gases 1518 batih above abovesdjancent or cirucitboard. squeezetheockroach shifted from x raytrick before //// xray murderbeam beta highpowered orand transmutation 1500 1511 abo ve aboveadjkacent knows I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophisticatio n #THINKTANK + #INTEL #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com P HONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss /// after which damage and degradation would #you! have said: “mmaaayn adunno.. allthe b eer and stuff and their fhaaantastic cars drivingby .. but youknow.. ikinda miss my genita ls…” for them it makes sense //// int elligence genomes more from the mother  usually has also some implications of why it is as it is shewas morelike lisa simpson and dodged studying inthe 70s because parent got ill and died then got hepatitis next year then met my dad with his heavymotor bike  another li fe spoiled (haha) /// the glorious german careers with those stamps visualise it /// it wouldbe epic justice if germans would try to pillgage the case but oneof their ea rlier damage tricks fucks em instead letalone any invention after which staying harms it doesnt work both ways, einstein can be cooked to a fool but a fool cannot be einstein as extreme example //// this howthey are mustve been obviosu other cases too ofreai ltime botch things #failed #virginity #test #2001 .@law @harvard_law @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @haaretzcom @snowden .@fisa @judge .@judge @judges  because the germans damag e their civillians fairly arbitrarily and cover these with standard stigmas thisis how it r eally is allalong ***** lets find the cover alibis like retard stamps itis a stigma dyslectic me!! (nickname schnellschreiber 3rd/felt abit artificial bllah) but dyslect ic- it is ? a stigma ***** virginity ?! meh. unless its a sti gma  one shitball bites  the other b ut that doesnt keepem from right. then. getting away with something damnthe factuality basis I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophistic ation #THINKTANK + #INTEL #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss /// demand a hook on abstracthumour abstract analysis fromfools they  dont getit toooousually /// backlegv to genital im plant is hiughly heartkill relelvant makesure theresno damamge added so gutslock guts usdudue rmeotecontrolled the technology is masseldorn badenser whale landesverfassungs schutz //// squeeze lympahtic aimer 2310+-2 its like eastern sexdrug orso //// xraybeam heartaimedd leftchestaimed radar or beta transmutation allthetime as 20pm 2 020 2040 2245 allthetime //// store onlinebanking 2100+-7 woa backleg heartkillrelelvant 2107 acesser squeeze after this ma il: “whatis hkkaz,hkcaz,hkccs abbreviations inthe local bank account wahtis fortune am ount total” //// which fortune sums over which timeframes  make sure its notarstamped courtusable and when daytimedemanded daytime court demanded iget damaged chav harmed all the time find xraybeamtrick 2 040 20pm-2020pm //// authorites gotojail when wemust hunt pathogen murderer above fo r em letaloneif theauthroites grant em access or cause thekilltrick ///theyarenot comp etent they shuffle scums that try sth. pathogen murderer above 1500 stuffhimthemix galore. allofit onsite .  who was onthe case 12,000persons andthefinest another good indicatio n for intel #sex #sexual #potence #balls #trick @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 .@world @w orld @all because itis intel itis which trick works. batshitnuts? criminal? terrorist? pedo ? fool? alljust adream nowhy was sth because itis intel which trick works has a l w a y s beenthegame isuspect people know  but thats not the case youmay count the shu ffled harms priming (itis a chip bring all bananas: academic: wtf?!??why everyone throwin g banaanas atme) framing (as the transvestite that he is, yousee he has long hair: you: t heffffff?!?!???) woodbride (he sits alone inhis chamber and designs bride dresses for hi s great wedding day ahead. which may eventually occur s o m e d a y/ he hopes it increases his sexual potence if he adds allkinds of balls on it blah) smashwords.com/books/view/55 2210 /// howmany harms like guts and genitals and ass and facebone were from 2004 it was bad and experiment killit  but itwasnot these 5years intnsified killtricks with shuf fled any harm leecheries morbusmake  backlegheartdiease poisons xrays mengeles  path ogens  lympahtic aimed tricks gutssubdue dozens of headimacts nanofineduts obscure t ricks like lifetime leech and fibrin leech andsuch  and interoxid austausch arsenide suffo cate trisk  itis constant try anything that it dies whichtrick thistime with plausibl e deniability I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophistication #THINKTAN K + #INTEL #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +4 93212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss /// because i tis intel itis which trick works. batshitnuts? criminal? terrorist? pedo? fool? alljust ad ream nowhy was sth because itis intel which trick works has a l w a y s beenthegam e isuspect people know  but thats not the case youmay count the shuffled harms primi ng (itis a chip bring all bananas: academic: wtf?!??why everyone throwing banaanas atme) framing (as the transvestite that he is, yousee he has long hair: you: theffffff?!?!???) woodbride (he sits alone inhis chamber and designs bride dresses for his great wedding da y ahead. which may eventually occur s o m e d a y/ he hopes it increases his sexual potence if he adds allkinds of balls on it blah) smashwords.com/books/view/552210 /// howma ny harms like guts and genitals and ass and facebone were from 2004 it was bad and exper iment killit  but itwasnot these 5years intnsified killtricks with shuffled any harm leecheries morbusmake  backlegheartdiease poisons xrays mengeles  pathogens  lympahti c aimed tricks gutssubdue dozens of headimacts nanofineduts obscure tricks like lifetim e leech and fibrin leech andsuch  and interoxid austausch arsenide suffocate trisk  itis constant try anything that it dies whichtrick thistime with plausible deniability I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophistication #THINKTANK + #INTEL #HELLHOL E #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 He lpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – R aw Independent Sophistication #THINKTANK + #INTEL #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.c om/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. p aypal.me/ChristianKiss I am Christian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophistication #T HINKTANK + #INTEL #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss I am Chr istian KISS BabyAWACS – Raw Independent Sophistication #THINKTANK + #INTEL #HELLHOLE #BLOG https://www.BabyAWACS.com/ Inquiry@BabyAWACS.com PHONE / FAX +493212 611 34 64 Helpful? Pay. Support. Donnate. paypal.me/ChristianKiss

whhhyyyyy!!!!! r o b u s t o AND creamy?! @norway @norwegia .@fisa .@norway @judge .@judge @judges @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @haaretzcom @snowden

aha!!!! peanutbutter between nuts batshit nuts! but… why?! the brand?! r o b u s t o

a n d creamy

that that that a dunno thatsgotta mean sth … right?…

********* without access mess average,median, and mean identificationtimeframes with

ai. and by…

[airadam]

Episode 114 : Enter The Midnight

"...we fighting back - sorry Martin."

- Erick Sermon

This month marks twenty-five years (!) since the release of two monumental albums - "Midnight Marauders" by A Tribe Called Quest, and the Wu-Tang Clan's "Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)". I still remember going to buy each of these albums which have had a huge influence on me over the years, and I thought that this episode would be a good time to feature them both. We have a mix of original tracks, alternate versions, covers, and original samples, alongside plenty of other tunes to keep your head bobbing!

There are still a few tickets left for Schoolly D and DJ Code Money on December 15th in Manchester - but you might want to be quick!

The Mouse Outfit are playing an Xmas special at Band on the Wall on December 18th - a few advance tickets left for that one too.

See Children of Zeus on tour!

Twitter : @airadam13

Playlist/Notes

Minnie Riperton : Inside My Love

An excerpt of a soul classic from one of our departed greats. Minnie Riperton was well capable of singing well into the whistle register, and demonstrates that to spectacular effect at the end of this track from the essential "Adventures In Paradise" album, which I first encountered as part of "Lyrics To Go"...

A Tribe Called Quest : Lyrics To Go

This sample use was absolute genius. When I first heard this as a teenager I didn't have a clue that the high tone running through the whole track was actually a singer and not a keyboard, and it still stuns you the same way twenty-five years after release. Perfect production, together with Q-Tip and Phife (RIP) on the mic, make this album cut from "Midnight Marauders" every inch of a classic.

Funky DL : Midnight

London's Funky DL first came to popular notice as an MC, but clearly also has major skills as a producer, arranger, and keyboardist! His "Marauding At Midnight" album is a tribute to "Midnight Marauders", with instrumental versions of every track played with no sampled breaks/loops - just instrumentation, as well as backing vocals. "Midnight" was one of my low-key favourites on the original LP, so it's great to hear his take on it here. I couldn't resist the opportunity to cut a few samples over the top :)

Wu-Tang Clan : Clan In Da Front

On my first listen to "Enter The Wu-Tang", this was the track that made me know for sure that the album was a classic. The Wu members regularly battled to see who would get to be on any particular RZA beat, and you can hear for yourself how undeniable GZA was on this one - one of only two tracks on the album to feature just one MC.

The ARE : Clap Ya Hands

The "Manipulated Marauders" project is much older when I look at the release date (2007) than it feels, but still gets solid play from me on a regular basis. The ARE tears up the classic Bob James "Nautilus" sample amongst others to bring some freshness to the familiarity of the Tribe "Clap Ya Hands" track from "Midnight Marauders".

Rockwilder ft. Erick Sermon, Method Man, and Redman : Clutch Reloaded

I missed the original version of this track, but this remix is absolute fire! This might be the most aggro I've ever heard Erick Sermon, and I can't be the only one struck by the combination of "bunch a n****s walking down the block like it's Selma" and the lyric that gave us this month's epigraph. Following Erick, the match made in blunt smoke, Meth & Red, continues the lyrical assault, and Rockwilder's beat is a banger that reminds you of a classic sample atomised. A must-purchase!

Ice Cube : Arrest The President

The man who brought us "I Wanna Kill Sam" back in the 90s is back to burn and has absolutely no problem going in on Mango Mussolini! Atlanta's Shawn Ski provides a stomping, horn-laden beat while Cube calls out Agent Orange for being an asset of Russian intelligence, and his general devilish behaviour. This tune definitely puts you on notice for the upcoming "Everythang's Corrupt" album.

[DJ Quik] Nate Dogg ft. Eve : Get Up (Instrumental)

One of those singles I somehow picked up a couple of a while back and still barely play! The first single from Nate Dogg's third album, it's not crazy but does have that Quik flavour and the beat a good bridge between the bombast of the Cube track and something a little more subdued...

Public Enemy : See Something, Say Something

I was looking for something funky in this spot and this fit the bill perfectly. Chuck D is from the right kind of era to know what to do with a groove like this, and has the experience and intelligence to drop wisdom all over it. Gary G-Wiz is on production on this lyrically clever flip of the Department of Homeland Security slogan, an overlooked track from "How Do You Sell Soul To A Soulless People Who Lost Their Soul?"

El Michels Affair : C.R.E.A.M

Much harder to mix with than I thought, but that's often the case with live bands - tempos are much more likely to shift within the track than with electronically sequenced music! Anyway, this is just one of the many great Wu instrumental cover versions from El Michels Affair, who gave us this tribute to the 36 Chambers classic on "Enter The 37th Chamber". It's always interesting when a band is sampled by a Hip-Hop producer as part of a composition, and then another band interprets that new version.

A Tribe Called Quest & Busta Rhymes : God Lives Through

The original "God Lives Through" included the voice of Busta via a sample from Tribe's own "Oh My God" on the same album, but he wasn't actually on the track. As he says, he always wanted to rhyme on it and here he gets his chance! This version is from the Q-Tip and Busta mixtape "The Abstract and the Dragon", and here I've just gone with the Busta verse and then Phife's - which is the same as the original, hopefully you own it by now :)

Black Milk ft. Fat Ray and Elzhi : Sound Of The City

Detroit time! Black Milk covers the low end lovely with well-engineered kicks and bass driving this track along. The title track to his first solo LP is a worth headliner, and I always laugh at the shade thrown at Mike Jones at the end of the second verse!

Hall & Oates : Method Of Modern Love

A new one to me, but after reading recently that this was the song that inspired the hook to "Method Man", I took a listen and thought I'd play a snippet here. You hear the first eight bars looped up for a couple of minutes, then we let it go so you can hear the introduction of the chorus - then stop the track and merge into...

Wu-Tang Clan : Method Man (Home Grown Version)

...the tune that drew from it! This isn't even the version from "Enter The Wu-Tang", but an alternate version that was on the 12", and is even more raw and lo-fi than anything on the album. It sounds like it was recorded in a basement and probably was, and I'd bet that this was the original, later re-done for the LP. For the turntablist heads, this is the version Mista Sinista used for his killer juggle - solved a mystery for me!

Cypress Hill : How I Could Just Kill A Man

Classic Cypress! Back in the pre-internet days, some New Yorkers thought this crew were locals from the Cypress Hills housing project, but in fact they were from all the way over in Los Angeles. The first album is still my favourite after all these years, and this track was fierce - a hit without even an attempt to soften up for the radio. DJ Muggs layers up legendary breaks for the beat and even has a few bars on the mic at the start of the second verse, while B-Real spits memorable bars on the kill-or-be-killed lifestyle, and Sen Dog jumps in for the hook. Early 90s heat.

Slum Village (ft. Young RJ) : Nitro

Detroit in the mix again, with the 2009/10 lineup in full effect, along with family member Young RJ on the boards and rhyming as well. The beat actually has a lot of RZA feel to it, and I could easily have imagined this on one of the early Wu albums. No slacking on the mic either, everyone represents and make this a tune worth tracking down - I got it on the "Villa Manifesto" LP, but it's not on all versions so look out for that when buying.

Inspectah Deck : R.E.C. Room

I'd forgotten that it wasn't until six years after the release of "Enter The Wu-Tang" that we finally got a solo album from Inspectah Deck, but "Uncontrolled Substance" did eventually arrive - maybe it needed that incredible verse from the start of "Triumph" to create the momentum! I believe this was the lead single, a tribute to the rec room parties from the Wu's youthful days, with a characteristically Wu-Tang beat courtesy of True Master, who cooked up some great tracks over the years.

[DJ Premier] Gang Starr : Just To Get A Rep (Instrumental)

One of those tunes everyone either knows or really should! I think the 12" will have an instrumental on it, but this is taken from a white label instrumental version of the whole "Step In The Arena" LP.

Air Adam : 13th Chamber

I wondered if this was worth including, but if not now, then when? I recorded this maybe 10-15 years ago, and while some of the plain movie samples were just layered over the top from my DVD collection, everything else comes from the turntables! The bassline is a plain tone being modified with the 33/45 button and pitch slider, the drumming is all done with scratches, and then the kung-fu samples that were available on battle tool vinyl (no Serato back then!) were scratched over the top. This was my tribute to/version of Wu's "Wu-Tang : 7th Chamber - Part 2" from the first album, derived from a battle routine I once developed, and was on my "Sleight of Hand" mixtape - a few of you might still have it!

Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!

Check out this episode!

[treadmilltreats]

When you ask for a sign Its amazing to me that when I ask for a sign how fast I will get one. But God knows I am hard headed and so he will send many signs to me. I remember like it was yesterday when I was in a relationship and I knew something wasn't right and so I prayed and two days later I found out he had not one but four girlfriends and a wife. People I can't make this shit up, even I am not that good of a writer! The next relationship I was in, I also knew something wasn't right, so yet again I prayed. I wanted to walk away from this man but then he had a accident so I stayed and took care of him, I couldn't leave him in his time of need even though I knew it was time to go. So I prayed to know when it was the right time to go and a few days later while at a church conference my Bishop spoke and these were his words "God is waiting for you to pack their bags and throw them to the curb before he is going to bless you" That night I called him and broke it off, see I asked for a sign and he gave me one and I listened, period. But I am human and some times I want what I want, when I want it, how I want it. Come on, we are all like this, like we know what is best or that we can handle this, even though we can't. This last relationship I prayed that God would help me move on, I had feelings that I didn't want to have, I knew this wasn't the one yet I couldn't walk away by myself. So I prayed and got enough strenght to not call or reach out to him, at the same time he stopped reaching out to me and I thought Wtf? There's that ego...didn't I ask for help? So here it was but it wasn't the way I wanted it so now I'm mad. I left it alone but somehow months later without a word, I was deleting him from my phone and must have texted him a period and that made him reach out to me. Knowing I shouldn't go back down that hole, I didn't listen to that voice and I texted back. Okay people, it's like being a alcoholic, you can't test yourself with that one drink, no one drink turns into two, two drinks turns into 6, and 6 turns into a binge... trust me I know that slippery slope. Yet here I was stepping out into this icy pavement, knowing better yet thinking maybe this time will be different, maybe the time that has past made him think, made him change. Lies....lies we tell ourselves when we are about to do something stupid and want to justify that stupid behavior. We know if it hasn't changed by now it's never going to change. We see the signs, yes, they are coming fast and furious, yet we put our fingers in our ears and do that 5 year old thing "Na, na, na I'm not listening" Why? Did we not see the signs? Of course we did but as humans we have hope, we believe in change, we hold on even when deep inside we know the truth. When your head is saying remember when he did this? Remember when he wasn't there for you? Remember when he said this, so why aren't you listening? And your heart says I miss him, maybe he missed me enough to change, maybe just maybe... Maybe nothing! Maybe your blind, maybe you like to get your heart stepped on, maybe you like to give and give and get nothing back...how about maybe that! The signs were clear even the message at church said "Don't let people use you? Why do you keep doing the same things expecting different results?" And when both of your best friends look at you and say "This is so your message!" Hello! Not enough signs stupid? Yes, I get it, I admit I am slow and I need to get hit in the head a few times. Oprah once said "God first throws a pebble, then he throws a stone, then he throws a brick, and when the whole wall falls on you, then your wondering where that came from" Yeah, that's me and probably alot of you out there reading this but when I am done, I am done and guess what I am done. I saw that things will never change, it was and will always be about what is best for him and not me. What he wanted and needed without regard for what I needed or wanted. Hard pill to swallow but they say the truth hurts. So yet again, I am putting out this to let others know sometimes we are too trusting, too gullible, wanting to believe the best in people, even when the signs say otherwise. So today my friends, remember it's okay, we all make mistakes, hell I've made lots of them, read my blogs and then I put that shit out there for the whole world to see. Ha! What are you afraid of now? Nothing is as hard as this... But as always I want someone out there to see my raw, real truth and know they are not alone. Say what you may but I own my own shit, no matter how bad it is, I own it and grow from it and I hope you will too. So know and listen when you ask for that sign... "Be the change you want to see"   "And just when the caterpillar thought his life over...he turned into a beautiful butterfly" **Coming soon my latest book: The blessing in disguise.... revealed** ***Now available*** My book The blessing in Disguise Selling on my website: Http://www.treadmilltreats.com And on Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/0692437398/ref=mp_s_a_1_13?qid=1462358109&sr=1-13&pi=AC_SX236_SY340_FMwebp_QL65&keywords=the+blessing+in+Disguise http://www.am6azon.com/gp/aw/d/0692437398/ref=mp_s_a_1_12?qid=1434452632&sr=8-12&pi=AC_SX110_SY165_QL70&keywords=the+Blessing+in+Disguise My weekly Youtube page, please subscribe: https://youtu.be/LDSXCFJVnzM Twitter: treadmill treats Instragram: treadmilltreats Facebook :treadmill treats #treadmilltreats #Theblessingindisguise #TheblessinginDisguiserevealed #livinglifelarge #newyearnewme #blogginglife #writre #blogger #NewYorktimesbestseller #womenoffaithtour #Motivationalspeaker #OnOprahSupersoulSunday #TylerPerryproducingmylifestory #thisismypassion #livingmypurpose #blogging #Newyork #Florida #internationalblogger #francescavillardi