#i have not done this myself however i am giving taylor the based ability to fully commit to cringe that i never gave myself <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[happi-tree]

i love projecting my chronic pain onto taylor sm its like yeah real

yeah 🥰🥰🥰 while i don't have chronic pain to project onto taylor i do have other things. *points at him* fucking WEEB (said by someone who watched So Much Anime in high school hdfvjhavfs) <333

[clairecrive]

can u make a nikolai x reader based on the song mr perfectly fine by taylor swift?

Mr Perfectly fine

A/n: Ahh, thank to you friend, I've been jamming to this song every day lmao Hope I've done it justice x Also, I've left out some parts of the lyrics to make it better fit the story.

(if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist here)

for my other masterlists, you can find them on my navigation page

Word count: more than 7K (ikik it took a life of his own, what can I say)

Warnings: bit of fluff, angst (like a lot), character's death, spoiler if you haven't read Siege and Storm

Tagging: @jupiterandbutterflies (Thank you so much for your comment! I saw it and it made my day✨)

(I don't remember where I took this from so if you know pls lmk)

Most people knew of Nikolai Lanstov. He was a prince, the second born and the most charming. Most people knew him thanks to the countless rumours that went around at court: supposedly he was not of royal blood. "Sobachka" was what they called him.

No matter how though, everyone knew of the last Lanstov prince. But very little knew him.

Meeting him wasn't difficult. Since he had been of age, Nikolai had always been out of the Grand Palace and among people. He’d also volunteered to enlist in the first army, refusing any kind of special treatment and fought beside his brothers in arms in the infantry. That was part of the reason why everyone outside the court loved him so much.

Being Grisha meant that fighting in the Second Army was mandatory. Not that you minded. There was nothing you wanted more for your people than to finally be free. Also, that Shadow Fold needed to go and as the Darkling has always said, all efforts are necessary.

That’s how you met Nikolai the first time. Generally, the First and the Second Army were stationed in different parts of the campsite. Numerous quarrels between oprichniki and Grisha had rendered the separation necessary. However, you never liked crowds much and living in the Little Palace meant that you were always surrounded by people. So, every chance you had to draw away and be by yourself for a while, you took it. Also, being a Healer meant that you’d spent more time in your assigned tent taking care of soldiers than among them.

Word had gone around that everyone in need could come to you. Usually, you had been instructed by the Darkling that your powers were reserved for Grisha. However, what good was it to have the ability to cure people and only take care of a selected few that very rarely got seriously injured? Meanwhile, soldiers of the First Army often suffered from severe injuries, fatal gunshots or knife wounds. You could help them and possibly save their lives so why shouldn’t you?

That was why Nikolai found you one night. Sure at that point it was just another nameless soldier to you. He had never been in your tent before so you had never seen his face before. The boy whose arm he had draped on his shoulders though, was a usual visitor of yours.

“Oh, Petyr, what happened this time?” gesturing to his blond friend to lay him down on the table, you started gathering everything you needed. Not that you needed much but you had found out that Petyr was absolutely incapable of bearing having his bones or injuries in general repaired without having some kind of pain reliever before.

After a few tries, you came up with a herbal composition that dulled the pain but didn’t make him unconscious. Using kvas would mean that Petyr would be knocked out for a couple of hours. That would put him in trouble with his superiors.

“He’s a fool, that’s what happened.” The explanation came from his friend after he put him down gently. Despite his words, you could hear in his tone worry and guilt?

“If saving your life makes me a fool then go ahead and call me one,” Petyr huffed in pain.

“Who knew you were so brave, uh?” After quickly shredding the herbs you needed, you poured hot water on it and brought the cup to Petyr’s lips while helping him keep his head up.

“He’s the bravest of us all,”

“If I knew it took a bullet wound to make you hand out compliments so easily, I would have done it sooner.” Scoffed Petyr after sending you a thankful look.

“See? What did I tell you? A fool,” his friend said dramatically and you smiled amused at their playful banter.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with, shall we?” You said out loud to warn both Petyr and his friend. Letting them know what was about to happen was best, your experience taught you. Both for the person on the table that could brace themselves for what was about to happen and for the person with him that was filled with worry and cautiousness. Oprichniki didn’t trust Grisha that much.

After assessing the damage, you let out a relieved sigh as the bullet had gotten through and it had not hit any major artery. It had already got infected though, so you knew it would be a painful one to treat.

“So, did you receive any letters lately, Pety?” You ask, suggestively wiggling your eyebrows while your hands cover the wound. You had your eyes closed to better focus but you were sure that he had rolled his eyes.

“Only from my mum.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t write her back,” you said, opening your eye just in time to send him a glare.

“Ugh, not this again, y/n, please. Have mercy on me, I’m bleeding all over the table.” Petyr moaned making his friend snicker.

“You’re not bleeding all over the table and if you didn’t notice, I’m already taking care of you, am I not? That doesn’t excuse you for being an idiot, though.”

“Are you two in cahoots or something? It’s not fair. Wounded man over here.”

“Oh shut up.” Both you and his blond friend said at the same time. Petyr moaned once again and you sent a little amused smile to the blondie.

“Should I leave you with a cool battle scar? Maybe acting like a war hero will give you the balls to write to her.” You harmlessly threatened him but your hands were already reconnecting the tissue of his skin without letting it scar.

“I’ve told you, y/n. She deserves better than what I can give her. I am, who knows if I even make it home? I’d be only stringing her along.” Now Petyr was dead serious. It was true, you had talked about this often since he was a regular you got to know him better and he had soon told you about his sweet Katia.

While his friend chanted “fool” like a mantra in the background, you took his bloodied hand in yours, his wound fully healed.

“Petyr, how do you think she’s gonna react when she learns that there hasn’t been any delay to her letters but you’re just ignoring her? Besides, you should let her make this decision too. Who knows, she’ll surprise you.” Squeezing his hand you turned to let your words settle and to put away your utensils. You knew you had given him so much food for thought so you didn’t address the subject anymore. His friend helped him off the table and that’s when you noticed that he was injured too. He had a pretty nasty cut on his lower lip and there was already a bruise forming on his temple.

“Petyr, you can sit on my chair while I take care of your friend. You should be fine but for at least a while don’t stress your body.”

Mentally making a list of the things you need to tend to this kind of wound and where you kept them, you started collecting before heading back to them.

Petyr had sat down but his friend was still standing.

“You don’t have to lie down if you don’t want to, but unless you don’t want me to go take a ladder or something, it would be best if you sat on the table.” You gave him your best reassuring smile as you mixed the healing paste. Sometimes, men didn’t like to put themselves in a vulnerable position with someone they didn’t know and had learned to fear. He wasn’t that badly hurt and it would only take a couple of seconds to fix but not every oprichniki was comfortable with being healed by Grisha power. So the paste would do your job for you. It would take longer, sure and it would also sting a lot more but at least he’d be healed at last.

After looking at you for a little while, the blond man did as you instructed, giving you a dazzling smile in return when you settled between his legs to fix his cut.

“The name is Nikolai or handsome if you prefer.” It was not the first time a wounded soldier tried to flirt with you. IT didn’t bother you, you found them amusing more than anything and you knew it was the allure of someone taking care of them speaking more than any real interest.

“Let’s hope you won’t be around here much for me to learn your name.”

“I’ll have to find another way to make myself unforgettable then.” He winked at you before hopping off the table.

You didn’t address his words, only gave them the paste you had prepared. It would prevent any wound from being infected and would be able to cure small cuts and bruises if applied for a couple of days. With that, you sent them both on their way. Petyr waving you goodbye while Nikolai sent you another wink.

And so this was how it all started.

Mr. "Perfect face"

Mr. "Here to stay"

Mr. "Looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away"

Everything was right

Despite your fellow Grisha, military life could be a bit alienating. Which sounded like a paradox, sure, but everyone had their own way of processing trauma and emotions and of course there were plenty of those during the war. If the best way to come to terms with everything that happened was to distance yourself from others and try to find the solution in solitude, it could get to the point where you’d feel alone in a room full of people.

To get a little respite, you’d usually go on a long walk or resort to stargaze. Sometimes, depending on where you were posted, it wasn’t safe to leave the campsite. So, that’s how Nikolai found you one night. Even he had to take a breather once in a while. Being a different version of yourself based on who you’re interlocutor was must be exhausting. Of course, you didn’t know this. You knew nothing about Nikolai at that point if not that he was Petyr’s friend and a socialite, according to other soldiers.

He seemed to be at the centre of gossip no matter what group of people you found yourself with and there also seemed to be a consensus about him. Everyone liked him. Even if it was rare for some Grisha to appreciate oprichniki, you knew they somewhat respected him because if they didn’t praise him out loud, they didn’t speak ill of him either.

“Not a fan of crowds, are you?” he announced his presence before sitting down beside you.

“I love them, I really do. It’s just that sometimes it gets too much.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel.”

“You do? Everyone seems to think you’re a socialite.”

“It’s what I want them to think but alas, I enjoy being more complex and multifaceted than that.” He lightly bumped your shoulder with his, eyes aflame with mischief.

“I bet.” you simply smirked. Despite how everyone seemed to think they knew him, you got the peculiar vibe from him, like there was a lot more to him than what he let everyone see.

“No one seems to know much about you.”

“Maybe you’ve talked to the wrong people.”

“Well, then I guess it’s better if I got straight to the source, don’t you think?”

“That will surely be a better start. Not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for though.”

“We’ll see.”

That night had been the first of many. It had become a sort of an unspoken arrangement between the two of you. While it didn’t last long, you sensed that you got to know him better than everyone. There was something about late nights meetings under the stars that prompted deep and meaningful conversations. It wasn’t hard to form a solid bond with him after a few nights.

The conversations weren’t always personal in the conventional sense. You’d often stray and talk about the most bizarre things. Like why something had the name it had or how cool it’d be if it was possible to pass through surfaces, which led to imagine all the uncomfortable situations one could find themselves in if they were to simply go into a room through its wall.

Nikolai was witty, overly confident and ambitious and he knew a lot of things. You always wondered how he had learned them since he was so young and been in the army for a couple of years already. But Nikolai was never too forward on certain topics, his family and childhood being some of those. You understood, those were sore subjects for you too. So you never insisted. It was much more interesting to listen to him rumble about impossible future projects of his, like a flying ship.

"When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable." He’d say whenever you’d point it out to him. Somehow, despite the absolute absurdity of them, the sheer confidence that he seemed to constantly exude, made you consider the possibility of his success.

You got the distinct feeling that there was nothing this man couldn’t do.

But that was when I got to know Mr. "Change of heart"

Mr. "Leaves me all alone," I fall apart

It takes everything in me just to get up each day

But it's wonderful to see that you're okay

But, alas, as all things do, these encounters of yours also got to an end. You knew it would happen, you were both soldiers so your lives were both heavily characterised by uncertainty after all. However, you were not prepared for it to end so abruptly though. And without an apparent reason. Because Nikolai’s unit hadn’t been posted elsewhere and he hadn’t been fatally wounded. You would have heard of it were that the case. But it wasn’t.

You thought that he had come to cherish your nightly encounters too. Some of those had been full of his promises. How he’d love for you to be around when he’d eventually find the time to work on his ideas. How you had been a nice surprise, a most interesting person among so many dull idiots you were surrounded by every day. How he’d come to value your opinions and presence in his life and that he was going to find a way to make sure that that would never change. Promises that turned to be empty.

You had never allowed yourself to fully believe him. It wasn’t the first time that a boy had made the same kind of promises but Nikolai looked sincere. Honest enough to be believable. But, of course, you had been wrong.

You didn’t realise just how much you had come to rely on him until he was gone. You tried to keep your mind off him and luckily the perfect distraction came your way. The Darkling had scheduled an attack on the enemy’s army and had posted you to be on the field to take care of everyone promptly. You had never been more grateful to the man, even after he had given her a home and a purpose.

Ever since your first encounter with Nikolai, you had thought it had been a blessing. However, you had soon changed your mind and now considered a curse more than anything. Why? Because as soon as you got to the field you couldn’t help but scour the troops for a familiar mop of blond hair. Many looked like him and being this far you couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t one of them but you certainly despised the leap your heart made every time though. That was a distraction you couldn’t afford. Besides, it wasn’t smart to let your heart get involved in times of war.

The battle began, Inferni and Squallers were working together to impair the enemy’s visual so they couldn’t shoot or use their cannons while the First Army marched after them to swap in as soon as the air cleared to catch the enemy by surprise. While your role wasn’t active per se, you were a Corporalki after all, and even if you had been specifically trained as Healer, you had also got one of your friends to teach you the basics of an Heartrender’s work. You weren’t a powerful one but you could hold your ground in a fight. Especially since they weren’t expecting you. And you were still far from any real threat.

The battle dragged on and soon there were wounded soldiers that needed your attention. You hated this kind of work, it was messy and dirty and had to be quick because spending too much time on one soldier could mean dooming another to death. You were accustomed to it by now and soon found a rhythm focusing on ensuring everyone’s survival and not bothering with the aesthetic side of healing. That could be taken care of later if they wanted to.

As soon as your eyes fell onto a crouched figure you sprinted towards them. It was dirty and you didn’t recognize them but you got the feeling it was a life or death situation. Oh, how you wanted to be wrong.

The person crouching turned out to be Nikolai and he wasn’t alone. He was kneeling beside someone, Petyr.

“Where are you hurt?” you hurriedly asked as you tried to assess the damage. His uniform was dirty and full of blood but you couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Trying to answer you, Petyr opened his mouth only to let out the most gruesome gurgling sound as his respiratory tract was flooded by blood.

“He got shot in the gut.” Nikolai offered.

“Is the bullet still inside?” Opening his uniform jacket you tore a piece from his shirt to use it to put pressure on the wound.

“It’s too late,” Nikolai uttered.

“No.” You strongly refused as you removed the cloth and focused on the wound. His heart was straightening and he had already lost a lot of blood. If the bullet was still inside that it was going to be a problem, if it wasn’t then you still had a fighting chance.

“I removed it earlier.�� So that was why he had lost so much blood. Nodding your head to show that you had heard him, you set out to stop the internal bleeding. Slowing his heartbeat so that it was pumping less blood and thus eased your endeavour. You were still in the middle of the field and while you were keeping up with the warfare but in the back of your mind, you registered the sounds of screaming and of gunshots getting closer. A bullet hit you in the shoulder propelling you forward over Petyr’s body. Grisha’s kefta were bulletproof so you weren’t worried for your incolumity but for the harsh movement you had made.

Leaning back, you heard Nikolai calling for you but your eyes were trained on Petyr. You tried to listen for his heartbeat but could only hear two instead of three. Nikolai, who had never left your side, immediately understood what had happened by the fall of your shoulders and the tensing of your hands.

He kept calling for you but the only thing you could focus on was that you had let your friend down. Now there will be one more family crying for a loss, another girl mourning a lost loved one. And it was all your fault. It was because of you that Petyr wouldn’t live to see another day, to write another letter or to fight another battle. It was on you.

The details of what happened next were a bit blurred. Someway you must have found your way back to the campsite. Whether you did on your own after tending to everyone else, you didn’t know. Your memories picked up after you woke up in your tent. Someone was calling your name, saying that the Darkling wanted to see you.

Mechanically you raised and made your way to the Darkling’s tent but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts were plagued by Petyr’s face, by that godforsaken sound he made when he tried to speak. The realisation that he was gone hit you like a wall of brick that would have made you stumble if you weren't’ sat in front of the Darkling’s desk. Whether he was speaking and stopped after seeing the forlorn look in your eyes or he hadn’t been speaking at all, you didn’t realize. You did hear him say that you were going to be posted somewhere. Under different circumstances you have said something, anything to not let him send you away. Your mind immediately went to Nikolai. You’d be leaving him behind along with the campsite.

However, you now realised that you had already lost him. Losing Petyr had been the last thing that had completely severed your bond. There was no turning back now and part of you was grateful.

Hello Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breaking mine?

I've been Miss "Misery" since your goodbye

And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine"

You couldn’t know, of course, but Nikolai had left not long after you did. Albeit for a different reason. He had finally earned the Major rank and as such, he took a step back from military life deciding that his skill would be better suited for a life on the sea. Assuring Ravka the supply she needed but in ways that weren’t exactly suitable for a prince but worked just fine for a privateer. And thus Sturmhond came to life.

As for you, you kept doing your job at your new post but were relieved when a letter came from the Darkling instructing that you were needed at the Little Palace. Part of you had relegated Nikolai to that part of your mind where the unmentionable was, however, a traitor thought whispered that maybe there was a chance that you could see him at the royal grounds. Sure, the possibilities were close to zero but it was still possible, right?

No.

You already were ashamed of the fact that you’re still suffering because of him. And yes, you missed him but you weren’t going to indulge the pathetic hope of seeing him again.

He doesn’t want to see you. If he did, he would have already found you. Or write you a letter if he couldn’t, but he didn’t.

You were right. You knew you were, nonetheless, the thought only brought you a bittersweet feeling.

You found the Little Palace just how you’d left it and yet it seemed changed in a way. The insane amount of work you found there waiting for you helped you drown the feeling that it was you that had changed.

Months passed this way, sometimes the Darkling would post you with him or outside the Little Palace. All in all, you’ve kept busy. When news of the little prince leaving the Palace reached you, you let it wash over you. It wasn’t like it mattered much, whether he was a few feet away or in another nation, Nikolai wasn’t part of your life either way.

When the whole expansion of the Fold happened, you were stationed at the Little Palace. Chaos and terror ensued as soon as the news reached the capital making most of the Grisha flee. Most of them went looking for the Darkling while others simply ran away and hid. You were amongst the first group.

Soon, your life was radically changed. The shift in the Darkling was palpable and it didn’t have anything to do with the scars on his face. You had tried your best to heal them and Genya to tailor them away but somehow, they could not be removed. It was an unsettling thing to realize that they didn’t take away his beauty. One could even say that they enhanced his attractiveness.

He was certainly more powerful. None of you knew what had happened in the Fold that day, just that the Sun Summoner had fled and that there were no survivors apart from him. However, as your journey in pursuit of Alina dragged on, you were soon witnesses of his newfound power.

The nichevo’ya, he called them.

He had always been immensely powerful. One of a kind. But this- this was different. And as dread settled among your group as you watched them in action, realisation sat heavily on your shoulders.

He soon found a trail and traced Alina in Novyi Zem and set out to reach the island by hiring Sturmhond’s crew. He was a famous pirate after all and despite his unreliability, the Darkling was sure that as long as he got his money, he wouldn't be a problem.

In the round trip, you didn’t see much of the captain anyway. Some members of his crew were amiable enough, particularly the Yul-Baatar twins. You had even asked Tamar to spar with you from time to time. Your lessons with Botnik were a distant memory and you knew that mastering combat training skills could increase your chance at survival.

When Alina and Mal were held captive though, that’s when Sturmhond made an appearance. He looked younger than you’d thought and there was something oddly familiar in the way he held himself. Still, you didn't talk with him much. Your job was to take care of Alina and so you spent most of your time in her room.

It wasn’t until the Darkling asked Mal to track Rusalye and consequently spent more time with Alina that you had a chance to talk with him. It was during one of your night shifts when he approached you, the Darkling had wanted some of his to always be patrolling the ship.

“What could possibly make a little thing like you be amidst this wretched company?”

“It’s all a matter of perspective, I guess.”

“The thrill of adventure?”

“There’s plenty of it everywhere you go if you’re Grisha, even if you just go on a stroll.”

“Is that why you follow him?”

“I owe everything to him.”

“I’m sure you realize your role in this.”

“Of course I do. I’m not some naive girl who has a crush on her general.”

“Ah, so who, pray tell, do you have a crush on then, beautiful lady?”

“You’re certainly noisy for a pirate.”

“Privateer,” he corrected you, “there’s not much to do around here is it?”

“Not if you have everyone taking care of it, no.”

“Amuse me.”

“It isn’t wise to let the heart get involved in times of war.” That was all you were willing to share. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, the twinkle in his eyes was oddly familiar but he was a stranger. A dangerous one.

“Those sound like words spoken from experience.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I’d say it’s no fun to only think about war. Life is so much more.”

“Believe me, if I could, it’d be the last thing on my mind. But, alas, l don’t have the privilege to do so.”

You had already lost too much time speaking with him. If someone were to see you or tell the Darkling you’d be in trouble. And you had made it your goal to never put yourself on the path of the Darkling’s anger. So you excused yourself and went back to your rounds.

If only you had stayed and talked to him more maybe you would have understood what was about to happen. Maybe you would have had an enkindling of Sturmhond’s plans. Instead, you were taken by surprise, just like everyone in your group, when Rusalye was spot and a shot was fired. You had found yourself in the uncomfortable position of having to fight against people you had grown to like.

“I don’t want to hurt you, y/n,” Tamar warned you as you stood face to face on the sinking ship dock. Her trusted axes in her hands while your hands were raised ready to attack.

“I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“Then you don’t have to. Come with us.” Her proposition made you gasp.

“That would be treason,” you whispered hoping that the Darkling wasn’t around to hear you. A shiver ran through you as you thought of the punishment he’d give you for even thinking about leaving his side.

“Then you leave me no choice.” She said lowering her arms. Was that guilt you heard in her voice?

Before you could voice your question though, she shouted for her brother and not even a second later, you felt your body grow still. Your eyebrows faltered as you felt your heartbeat slow down.

They were Grisha.

They must have seen you realise because you heard Tamar apologize before everything went black.

Mr. "Never told me why"

He goes about his day

Forgets he ever even heard my name

Well, I thought you might be different than the rest, I guess you're all the same

You didn’t stay out for long though. As soon as Sturmhond’s crew had left the Darkling’s ship and had safely made it onto the Volkvolny, the privateer had asked for you to be awakened.

There wasn’t enough light for you to realize you were on another ship, what alerted you of your new situation were your hands. They had bound them behind your back. Immediately you started to struggle, hoping to wiggle out of the restraints. To no avail though. Huffing out in frustration, you settled for looking around you and see if there was something you could use. That’s when you noticed him.

“Release me- this instant, or else-”

“Or what? You’re a Healer. Not exactly a violent job, is it?” Sturmhond interrupted you, a smirk on his face since he had the upper hand.

“I don’t need my powers to kick you in the ass, do I?” He laughed but didn’t look remotely threatened. Rather amused, actually.

“Please, you have to let me go. He’ll kill me if-” Panic started to build as you realized that there was no way you could successfully escape.

“He won’t touch you.” A solemn glow took over his eyes. “He won’t ever hurt you again, you have my word.” He promised, looking subtly at your left shoulder. You winced as you realized that he must have seen your scars. The ones left by the Darkling’s niche’voya.

“How can I know if you’re trustworthy? You don’t exactly have a good score, you know?”

“You’re going to find out soon enough. Don’t worry.”

Of course, he didn’t bother offering further explanations. He’d left it at that. You weren’t a captive per se but he left your hands bound, only freeing them when you needed to eat or relieve yourself.

Fruitless were your efforts in making you tell more. He often ate with you and would check in at least twice a day but that was it.

It wasn’t until after you had landed after that forsaken vehicle of his had gotten you through the Fold that you understood. His coming out as Nikolai Lanstov, prince and second in line for the Ravkan throne, had shaken you all to your core. However, you doubted that it had sent a pang to the others’ hearts as it did with yours.

Nikolai Lantsov. The man you had been dreaming about, the one that had left you behind without any sort of explanations, the one you missed so dearly, had been by your side all this time.

You weren’t sure how you felt. It made sense now why his eyes looked familiar and his posture. You then connected that the vehicle you had used in the Fold had been one of the many projects he used to geek about with you. It tasted a lot like betrayal. Not because he had lied to you about his name but because he had tried to get close to you again and had managed to somehow break that growing bond again.

'Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl

I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her

So dignified in your well-pressed suit

So strategized, all the eyes on you

Oh, he's so smug, Mr. "Always wins"

So far above me in every sense

So far above feeling anything

Even if his secret had been outed thus causing some shift in the dynamics between Nikolai and the two new members of his crew - you suspected Mal was closer to punching him every second that passed- not much had changed for you.

On the outside, you pretty much looked like a prisoner. Albeit a very clean one. You rode with them, hands still bound, scowl ever-present on your face.

Nikolai had not come to see you ever since that night after the Fold. And now it had been almost a week since you had started your journey back to the capital. Whether this was all part of his plan to make you look the part of the captive even more or he was just gutless, you didn't know. It was working either way though.

You liked to think that his reason was simply that he didn't care. He had far too much on his plate right now as it was. Going back to court after years of absence while also making claims to the throne and trying to sway the Sun Summoner your way. It was no easy feat. But hadn't he always liked to say that impossible often meant improbable? A lot of things had changed since that night but even so, you'd still pose your bet on him that he'd be able to achieve anything he set his mind to.

It wasn't exactly that thinking this way brought you actual comfort. Of course, not. But it was better than foolishly hoping for him to still care about you the way you did for him. After all, he had sent plenty of signals that pointed in the other direction.

But then why did he kidnap you? Why take you with him? You weren't that close to the Darkling to be of any use to Nikolai in that way. And, as a matter of fact, no one had come to interrogate you regarding his plans or whereabouts. Then why?

You still couldn't figure it out.

Some days your anger shifted more to frustration and you were ounces away from asking for him yourself. Almost as if he had heard you though, he gave you the final push.

It was the usual day, Nikolai and Alina were riding in the carriage, stopping in every village we passed to meet with the locals. However, this time, before climbing back into the carriage, they kissed.

You were too far to figure out who started it and the details. The gist of it was enough though.

You most certainly were a fool. Still thinking about a guy who didn't give two shits about you, who had kidnapped you putting you in a dangerous situation and you were still wondering whether he felt something for you or not? Pathetic.

You had to do something about your situation and quickly too. Officially, you were a traitor. You had fled and joined the Darkling, that wouldn't make you look good in front of the king. He was a lousy bastard anyway and will probably sentence you to death to set an example. You hadn't survived so much shit to end up at the end of a rope.

So, even though you had initially thought against it since you were so close to home, you decided to escape. You were already headed towards certain death so what was the worst that could happen?

Your hands were left unbound when you were in your tent. One less problem to solve. Closing your eyes, you focused on listening for any nearby heartbeats. You heard two, those of the guards posted outside your tent. Maybe you could find an excuse to call them inside, put them to sleep and then slip away.

That was not exactly what your powers were for but you were desperate. You had to at least try.

And so you did. You called them in and immediately set out to slow their heartbeats. You had almost succeeded in putting them under when someone else slipped in. The last person you wanted to see.

"Am I that bad of a host?"

You didn't meet his ruse though, you knew it would make you lose focus.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to release my soldiers." As soon as he said it though, they fell unconscious at last. Your chest was heaving by now, using so much power in such a different way was costing you. But you couldn't back down now. It was one on one and you were Grisha and a woman scorned. He stood no chance.

"Move out of my way, your highness."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"You can or I can make you. Your choice." The venom in your voice was unmistakable and it took him by surprise. He gave you a curious look tilting his head to the side like he was seeing you for the first time over again.

"I didn't realize ruthlessness was one of your personality traits."

"You know nothing about me," you seethed. The tip of your fingers flexed, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and you were already weary.

"It may have been a while y/n, but I like to think I know a good deal about you."

"And I would like to completely erase this last year but you don't hear me yap about how shitty it has been, do you?"

"You never did like opening up much."

"I'm well past the point of sentimentalism, Nikolai. It is coming far too late anyway. And whatever my feelings for you may be, I won't let you put my life on the line." Your posture straightened, stance ready for battle.

His eyes flashed, jaw clenched. His hands closed in fists and he almost looked hurt. But why would he?

"Is that what you think all of this is?" Nikolai always acted aloof. He was always composed and dignified. You had thought it was for his insane amount of self-confidence but now you understood it was for how he was raised. But you recognised the pout on his lips. It was the expression he’d always have whenever he tried to get something from getting to him. To prevent himself from showing emotions.

"You're holding me captive while you go around Ravka parading your latest conquest, flashing your return everywhere. I don't know why you're doing this but I don't care. I've stopped waiting around for you and I certainly won't let your father put me to death."

"You think I'd let him?"

"So you want to do this?" you threw your hands up in exasperation, "Fine. You really want to know what I think?"

"Be my guest."

"I think that the Nikolai I knew would have left out of the blue without so much as a letter. I think that the Nikolai I knew was ready to go to any length to achieve what he believed in. However, I thought that the Nikolai I knew cared about me and what we had but look at me now. So maybe, I know nothing at all."

"You certainly do seem to know a lot of things. But you’re not wrong."

"If this is the way you care about me," I gesture to my tent, "then I'm not sure I want this Nikolai to care for me."

“This,” he said, emulating your gesture, “is to keep you safe. This is my way to ensure that if the Darkling got news of your whereabouts, he’d be sure not to think you willingly left his side and betrayed him.”

“That’s because I didn’t!” You raised your voice in outrage. The nerve of this man.

“Spare me your indignation. I know you hate being at his beck and call, to do his dirty work and be constantly surrounded by warfare.”

“Do not presume to speak for me.” You snapped. You knew it was best to keep a cool head but his cockiness was getting on your nerves.

“Didn’t you? Hate it, I mean.”

“We’re at war, Nikolai. Being away or close to the Darkling won’t change that. At least with him, I was safe.”

“You can’t be that delusional to think that he was protecting you.” He scoffed at your words as if they were the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

“And you can’t be that delusional to think that bringing me back won’t result in your father killing me.” You fired back shifting on your feet. He winced as if you had physically hurt him.

“You have so little faith in me?” His voice was just above a whisper and you knew that your words had struck a chord.

“How can I have any, Nikolai?” your voice softened a bit. “One day you’re telling me how much you value my opinion, you promise me a future where I’d be the first to see your project come to life and then you left. You just left, Nikolai.” And when I was starting to make my peace with it that’s when you come back? Also, let’s not forget about my abduction and your flirting with Alina.”

“So yes, I don’t trust you.” You concluded, crossing your arms on your chest with finality. He just stared at you for the longest time. If someone would come in now, they’d think you were in the middle of a staring contest. Then he sighed and started talking.

“I had to go away. I had already pushed my parents’ limits when I said I wanted to be part of the infantry. So, one day I got a letter written by my father personally and I knew that my time was up. I had been Nikolai for too long, now I had to start being a Lantsov prince.” His eyes were on the ground now, shame making her way in his words.

“So that’s what I did,” he went as he started pacing,”I went to Kerch to study, just like my father wanted. I did what he asked, he couldn’t reproach me anything now. I could never stay too still though, a life of adventure was calling me and I could not ignore it. It was only then that I realized that I could do so much more than sitting in a class, to realistically help Ravka.”

“I couldn’t take you with me. You had such a larger role to play in the army and besides, there wasn’t much I could offer you. So yes, I left. I left thinking that I would find my way back to you eventually.” He had stopped by now, regret was swirling in his shining orbs as he looked at you.

“You could have told me.” You contestated, taken back by all the information he gave you. “I would have waited for you.” A whispered promise for something that would never be now.

“I was afraid, y/n. That’s not my best moment, I know and no number of apologies could ever make it right. But I was afraid of your answer. I knew I’d be asking for a lot and let’s be honest-” the desperation in his tone was evident now, he had unconsciously started to lean towards you but you knew what he was about to say.

“You weren’t sure if the future you were offering me would just end up with me being your mistress, am I right?” Your tone hardened but despite the insulting implication of what you said, you weren’t made at him.

“I’m a prince, y/n. We do not marry for love and this country cannot afford to disregard the advantages that a political union could bring.”

His honesty was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He was right. As soon as you had learned he was a prince, you realized just what kind of future you could have with him. But then he left and that problem did not exist anymore. Neither of you spoke, both of you were seizing the other. You had laid it all out, defences were down putting you both in a vulnerable position.

And someday maybe you'll miss me

“You should have talked to me, Nikolai. We could have figured it out together. If it came to being your mistress to stay with you, then that was my decision to make.” You said softly after a while. It pained for you to say this, you would have never thought that getting closure would hurt this much.

Tears streamed on both of your faces, in front of you had been laid what your future could have looked like. It was everything you had wanted, you could still do your job and have the man of your dreams. You were surprised to find that you wouldn’t mind sharing him with his supposed wife. You had been at court for enough time to know how most marriages went. If he assured you it was only a diplomatic affair but that his heart was yours, that would have been enough. Who knows, maybe she’ll get a lover too.

But now… now you didn’t know if you could ignore everything that happened. You did not trust him nor could you ignore how hurt you were by his lack of communication and thus of trust in you.

But by then, you'll be Mr. "Too late"

[queen-scribbles]

Acceptable Risk

Art trade fic for the extremely patient @theheroofoakvale, exploring if Shepard’s recruiting Thane had gone a little.... differently.

-----

The door opened with a quiet hiss, and Shepard’s entry was greeted with the raised barrels of several assault rifles. The mercenaries, however, paused before opening fire, despite being confronted by three heavily armed individuals pointing guns back at them.

The asari in the middle of the cluster--clad for business rather than combat--spun to face them, her eyes widening. “Shepard?!”

Shepard smirked, centered his pistol on her. “Nassana.”

There was a muffled clatter in the ceiling that had the mercenaries’ attention swiveling upward. Her posture shifted defensive. “You’re dead.”

“I got better,” he retorted, and shot her in the throat.

Her bodyguards zeroed back in on him and his team, torn between them and the threat above, and that was their undoing. A dark figure dropped from one of the ceiling vents, and Shepard used that moment of distraction to take out two of them. When the remaining mercs focused in on him, the dark figure punched one in the throat and shot the other center mass. The few that were left went down quickly.

Massani and Vakarian kept their guns up, leveled at the late arrival, a drell, as he stood in the middle of the carnage, eyes fixed in an unblinking, regretful stare at Nassana Dantius’ body.

“Sorry if I stole your kill,” Shepard said after letting the silence go as long as he could tolerate. His pistol hung at his side in a loose grip, ready if he needed it. He didn’t think he would.

“I was not here for her, though the galaxy is no less for her removal,” the drell said softly, finally looking up from the dead woman and blinking just before he met Shepard’s gaze. “I am here for you.”

Behind him, Massani muttered a quiet curse and Vakarian tightened his grip on his gun, but Shepard didn’t even flinch. “I did wonder. Dantius hardly seems worth the time for someone of your... reputation.”

“And yet you still came,” the drell said, clasping his hands behind him and looking in no rush to kill anyone.

“She used me.” He let the barest edge of a snarl color the words. “I can go along with a likely trap if it gives me an excuse for payback. Also,” he took half a step forward, “seemed the best way to meet you, Krios. We need to talk.”

Thane Krios did not look at all perturbed that his target knew who he was. His expression remained impassive as he studied Shepard’s face. “Do we? What about?”

“I need your help on a mission. You can feel free to continue trying to kill me after we’re done.”

“Why?” Krios asked, still studying Shepard’s face.

“Why, what?”

“Why do you need me? Why should I help instead of killing you now?”

Shepard laughed darkly. “The fucking galaxy is at stake, I need the best of the best, even if they are out for my blood.” Another half step forward, Vakarian and Massani following this time until he waved them back. “As for the second question.... I know some things about you, Krios. I know you’re dying, and I know you have a son.” His pistol folded in on its clip as he crossed his arms and stared hard at the assassin. “And where he is. I imagine you’d hate for something to happen to him before you had a chance to mend fences.”

Three rapid blinks, a sharp breath, posture unchanged, but it was the most reaction Krios had shown in this conversation. “And would you make this...   something happen if I say no, Shepard?”

His calm was impressive. Shepard wondered if it was an easier illusion to maintain with eyes that had neither pupils nor iris to betray strong emotion. “If I have to. I need the best, Krios, which is you. Don’t really care how I get your cooperation.”

Krios was silent for a long moment. “This threat must be grave indeed for you to employ such measures.”

He was nigh impossible to read, but the slight shift of his clasped hands was hint enough. “I’m hunting an enemy who’s abducting human colonies and has ties to the Reapers, I’d call that pretty damn grave. Like I said, you can resume trying to kill me if we survive. What’s it gonna be?”

Another heavy pause, though shorter. “You have left me only one viable option if I care about my son.”

Shepard arched a brow.

“I will assist. Consider this a pause in the contract on your life.”

“Good enough for me.” Shepard cast a smug glance at Dantius’ corpse, then turned to exit the room. “We’re done here, so you can either come with us or meet us at the ship.”

“I will meet you shortly. I have a few personal effects to gather,” Krios said.

“Alright. We’re on a clock, so don’t dilly dally,” Shepard replied, and motioned their departure to Vakarian and Massani.

“What’s to stop him from shooting you on our way down?” Vakarian muttered as they headed for the elevator. “He’s already planning to kill you and you threatened his kid.”

Massani beat Shepard to the answer. “Doesn’t know if there’s a dead man’s switch on that something happenin’ to his boy if Shepard bites it.” He chuckled darkly and smirked at Shepard. “What the hell’d you do to earn a death mark, anyway?” 

Shepard shrugged, watching the blur of downward travel out the elevator’s glass-paned wall. “Hell if I know, Massani. Certainly pissed off enough people for there to be some options.”

The mercenary gave a rough laugh and slapped him on the shoulder. “Wear like a badge of fucking honor, kid. Means you got someone real riled up.”

---

Krios was, as promised, aboard the Normandy well within an hour. His personal effects he’d gone to collect were few enough to fit in a small shoulder satchel that he politely refused to let anyone inspect. (Lawson was not happy when Shepard told her to drop it, clearly suspicious of allowing an assassin on board without first vetting his gear.) He settled in life support at EDI’s suggestion, and ruffled no feathers with the rest of the crew, unless you counted Taylor’s mistrust of his career in general.

“What will be expected of me, Commander?” Krios asked, in that same modulated tone he’d used on Illium.

“No shipboard duties, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Shepard said. He leaned against the wall by the door and studied Krios. “You can do as you like here. When we have missions, I may want you to come watch my six, if your skillset seems a good fit.”

“I see.” He folded his hands, elbows braced against the small worktable at which he sat. There was a hesitation under the words that almost rang in the air.

“If there’s something else you wanna say, now’s the time,” Shepard prodded. He didn’t have time to be gentle prying out secrets or whatever.

“My son,” Krios said, words measured and careful. “You say you know where he is. Would you be willing to share that knowledge?”

Shepard mulled it over, weighing the value of his options. “In time,” he finally said. “We have a couple pressing assignments that are more important than family reunions. But if we hit a point with some free time I’ll let you know.”

Krios nodded, his expression unreadable as ever. “Very well, Shepard.”

“One thing I need to know from you,” Shepard began, pushing away from the wall, “is if whatever’s killing you will affect your abilities in a fight.”

“It shouldn’t, not yet.” He paused for the space of a few blinks. “I should have several months at least before the symptoms become noticeable even to myself. More than enough time to complete your mission, if it is as urgent as you make you sound.”

“Is that something you doubt, Krios?” 

“Not at all.” Krios pushed to his feet and crossed the room to examine a rack of spare rifle parts. “Even someone of your reputation would have to be on a mission of urgency to blackmail an assassin sent to kill you into helping your cause. I simply mean this threat seems the type where a decisive outcome will be reached swiftly; whether in victory or destruction. Well within the time I have before functionality is... affected.”

“Good.” Shepard nodded. “Not sure when I’ll need you, but I want to be sure you’ll be worth it when the times comes.” He left the room, noting Krios’ undertone murmur as he did, and from the cadence wondered what the assassin was praying for.

---

Shepard first tested him on something that seemed of no consequence; a mercenary base on a backwater planet trafficking stolen eezo. Thane did his job, no more no less, all the while making note of how the man fought. The risks he thought worth taking, the sacrifices that were acceptable cost, the balance of recklessness and cunning. It was not a complete picture, not off one mission, and Thane wouldn’t act on what he’d gleaned even if it were.

Not with the blade the commander had hung over Kolyat. Not with the hope of learning where his son might be. Patience was the hallmark of an assassin, after all; knowing when to strike as well as how. And Thane had been an assassin a very long time. He could wait.

Especially as conversations with others aboard the ship painted a clearer and clearer picture of the mission’s scope. A trip through the Omega 4 relay was very likely to be suicidal just on its own. Destroying whatever these Collectors used as a base doubly so. When Shepard made ‘if we survive’ comments, he wasn’t joking. Thane could wait. He could help with the mission--it was a worthy goal after all, one he would have assisted in accomplishing without the threats--and then resume his contract.

After the mercenary base was eliminated, and easily, Shepard made use of Thane’s skills a few more times. Usually on missions with plentiful shadow coverage and good sight lines.

“How’re you holding up?” Garrus asked on one such mission, the two of them picking off targets from a bit of a distance while Shepard made viciously short work of the battlefield.

“I’ve had worse assignments.” Thane’s rifle kicked against his shoulder and the krogan he’d been targeting dropped. He fired another shot, just to be safe, and watched the body jerk then lay still, before searching out another target. “What of you?”

Garrus snorted, took down his own target. “I’m  here because he’s my... friend” --there was a brief hesitation, as if the turian wasn’t completely sure that was the right word--”and I trust that whatever he’s doing is worth whatever it costs to accomplish.”

“You’ve fought alongside him before.”

“Against Sovereign, yeah.” Garrus’ mandible twitched as he focused on sighting in another shot. “This feels different.”

He didn’t elaborate, and it was only a few moments more for them the claim victory and press further on with their mission.

Thane watched Shepard, and wondered what had changed in the eyes of his friend.

---

It was after the derelict Reaper, after adding a geth to their mix, that Thane’s patience paid off. At least in part.

“Your kid’s on the Citadel,” Shepard informed him out of the blue. “Lucky for you, Vakarian has some unfinished business there as well, and the techs need some time to integrate the IFF to the Normandy’s systems. I can spare a side trip for personal issues while they get that squared away. Be ready to go in an hour.”

Thane didn’t protest. Didn’t question. He could ask for details on approach to the Citadel.

They set a cold knot in his gut when he learned them. “He’s here to kill someone,” Shepard said bluntly, and all Thane could think was Like father, like son. That was not a path he’d ever wanted for Kolyat. Shepard didn’t have a lot of details, just that Kolyat was there. Apparently even Cerberus’ resources had limits.

They spoke to a C-Sec officer, then to Mouse at his suggestion--Thane was surprised but pleased he was still alive--both conversations Shepard kept as short as possible. Clearly he was not in the mood to waste time. Thane wished that hadn’t involved the commander breaking Mouse’s nose, but couldn’t muster much sympathy when the same proved true of Kelham once they got his name and interrogated him.

“We have some time, not a lot of it,” Shepard growled. “And we still need to find Sidonis when we’re done with your shit, Krios.” He turned to Captain Bailey.  “What can you tell me about this Talid Kelham wants dead?”

The picture Bailey painted--up and coming turian politician, vocally anti-human and gaining support--made it obvious why Kelham would want Talid gone. He had to be very bad for business. He was also in a very vulnerable position currently; pressing flesh on a walk through the Wards with only one or two bodyguards along for protection.

Thane had to admit surprise when Shepard was alright with them splitting up to track Talid and (hopefully) find Kolyat.

“You can’t find him alone any more than I can,” Shepard commented with a sharp smile s he and Garrus headed for the catwalks. “Stay sharp, Krios.”

As if he would do otherwise. Still, he bowed his head and asked Amonkira for strength and guidance before he vanished into the shadows, hoping they weren’t too late to save his son from a very familiar dark path.

Are you really surprised? a voice inside him mocked as Thane picked his route along catwalks and ducts, through shadows and crowds. Even if he hates you, that’s the example you left.

He shook it off. He didn’t have the luxury of internal debate right now. He had to pick out his route on the fly, keep in touch with Shepard and Garrus, plot out several ways to handle the situation that all depended on Kolyat’s behavior. And he didn’t know his own son well enough to predict that, so his solutions were all loosely structured ideas at best. Some plan was better than none.

It was a close thing, despite their best efforts. Kolyat spooked, shot the bodyguards and dragged Talid into his apartment with a gun to his head.

Shepard was only a step behind once Kolyat broke cover and very quickly had a gun pointed at him.

Thane went very still, watching this standoff. He didn’t know Shepard well enough to know what the man would do, but he knew what C-Sec protocols would be, and he could hear their approach. Shepard had been very clear about the limited time they had for this side trip, the fastest resolution--which would also fulfill C-Sec’s mandate to keep Talid alive--would end with his son dead, and Shepard was not a patient man.

Kolyat’s anger blazed, even from across the room, and he was far from willing to cooperate, his pistol pressed to the back of Talid’s head.

The loud crack of a pistol shot nearly made Thane flinch, his chest squeezing in protest at the thought of his failure. Just this one thing, I wanted to fix just this.

But Shepard’s shot snapped Talid’s head back, not Kolyat’s. The turian collapsed in a spray of dark blood and Kolyat recoiled. In that moment of distraction, Thane surged forward and twisted the pistol out of Kolyat’s hands, unsure if the tremor was adrenaline or rage.

Shepard was talking to an incensed Bailey; “No one will miss a racist asshole, I did you a favor”, but Thane’s focus was all on his son. 

“This was not the best way,” he said softly.

“What do you know?” Kolyat hissed back, struggling against Thane’s unrelenting grip.

“More than you might think.”

Kolyat yanked away as if the contact had burned him. Fury simmered in his eyes, and resentment, but he was alive. C-Sec would still have to take him in for what he’d been ready to do(attempted murder? That would likely be the charge), there would be consequences for what he tried to do, and Thane didn’t know if they even could “mend fences” as Shepard had put it. But he was alive. And hopefully could be deterred from a path Thane wouldn’t wish anyone to tread.

“Krios,” Shepard barked and Thane pulled himself out of his reverie watching C-Sec lead Kolyat away. But rather than Time to go, the commander nodded after the arresting officers. “Massani can help with tracking down Fade. You have until we’re done. I wouldn’t count on more than an hour or two.”

Thane blinked, thrown off kilter by the gesture, but recovered quickly.  “Understood.” He’d taken three steps after the C-Sec officers before he stopped and turned. “...Thank you, Shepard.”

The man waved him off, already walking away with Garrus in his wake.

---

An hour and a half didn’t go very far working through a decade of distance, but it was a start.

“Why do you stay with him?” Kolyat asked when Thane’s comms crackled with a heads-up Shepard and the others were on their way back and he stood. “If... this” --a quick gesture, more a flick of the wrist than anything, between the two of them-- “is so important?”

For you. In more ways than one. “Shepard’s mission is... critical. And there is, unfortunately, a time limit on saving the galaxy.”

Kolyat snorted at his father’s dry humor. “Right.”

“I will keep in touch,” Thane promised. “Perhaps we can meet again once this is finished. If you would like.” If I survive.

“...We’ll see.” Kolyat was staring at the table rather than him, but Thane would take it.

He nodded and headed for the door. “Very well.”

“Does he have something on you?” Kolyat asked abruptly. “With the reputation Shepard’s made, he doesn’t seem the type honorable people would be following.”

“I have made no claims of honor,” Thane said quietly, hand on the door frame.  “And with  the stakes of mission, some sacrifices may prove necessary.”

“Sounds familiar,” Kolyat muttered.

Thane made no reply, and didn’t look back as he left the room with a cold weight in his chest.

---

It ha been the right call letting Krios reconnect with his son. He seemed more centered, more focused, for having dealt with his baggage. Probably that whole ‘something to live for’ schtick. Shepard only cared that Krios did his job and the mending bond made the kid an even more effective pressure point.

Not that Krios had ever protested. Ever balked. But everyone had their limit, and if he happened to find the assassin’s, it never hurt to have a brute force solution in your arsenal. Especially as they were very close to actually pursuing the Collectors through the Omega 4 relay.

“Just a few more tests,” Lawson assured him. They wanted it to work right, after all. It’d be a real short trip otherwise.

“So,” he asked Krios, “out of morbid curiosity, who wants me dead?” There were plenty of options, he wanted to know who wanted it badly enough to hire an assassin. And it wasn’t like he currently had anything better to do with his time. 

Krios cocked his head, a flicker of what might have been amusement crossing his face. “I cannot tell you, Shepard.”

Shepard snorted and arched a brow. “Client confidentiality?”

“Client anonymity,” the drell corrected.

“You let some faceless coward point you at a target with my body count?”

“As you know, I am dying,” Krios said in that implacable tone of his. “Odds of survival were... far from troubling, as a factor.”

“And odds of success?” Shepard retorted.

This time there was definitely a small smile before Krios schooled his expression neutral. Not mocking or cocky, just... amused. “There is a first time for everything.” The faint amusement was gone when he locked eyes with Shepard. “How will we handle this, commander? When we are finished our mission, assuming we both survive, and I resume my contract to kill you?”

“Feel like giving me a day’s lead?” Shepard grinned sardonically.

“I could be persuaded,” Krios said. He shifted in his chair. “Let us see how things progress, shall we?”

You’d never know to look at the man he’d been... convinced to help with this by threat of harm to his son. He seemed perfectly at home, posture easy. He didn’t talk to the crew much, Shepard knew from EDI, but it was hardly surprising an assassin was accustom to solitude.

As if summoned by his brief thought of her, a glowing sphere materialized on the AI kiosk. “Shepard, Miss Lawson wished you informed that the IFF installation is in its final stage. For the shakedown we will need complete access to the Normandy’s systems, so it is recommended you use the shuttle for whatever you plan to undertake next.”

“Got it,: Shepard tossed in vaguely the direction of the AI. “That’ll make things tight,” he muttered to himself. He had something in mind that would likely need the whole team. They’d fit in the shuttle, but it would be tight. Last thing he needed was Lawson and Jack killing each other before they even hit the Collector base.

Krios was eyeing him with curiosity. “Commander?”

“Gear up,” Shepard said, heading for the door. “Got a search and recover that might take all hands.”

The assassin nodded and pushed to his feet, heading for his locker. “Very well.”

---

Their mission went well. Things on the Normandy in their absence, not so much. Shepard left a fully-staffed state of the art warship an returned to a picked-clean husk manned only by his pilot and the now-unshackled AI.

The Collectors had bloodied his nose, cost him his crew. Again. He’d had it.  “Ship’s not getting any more ready than it is. Joker, head for the Omega 4 relay.”

“Aye, aye,” came the determined, hungry reply.The pilot was probably even more eager than Shepard to punch back at the bug-eyed bastards.

Unlike Joker--and probably the others--Shepard viewed getting the crew back as a secondary objective to taking out the Collectors. The threat they posed to humanity ended now.

Get us there was his order, and that didn’t change when they came out of the relay having to dodge starship wreckage, or when they were harried by drones, or even when a fucking occulus busted into the hold.

“Krios, Massani, with me!” he barked, rifle in hand, listening to the scrape and thud of wreckage and lasers ricocheting off the upgraded hull on the way to the bowels of the ship. By the time they had trashed the occulus, Joker had them past the debris field and the drones, and a new problem had arisen.

New, but familiar--the same Collector vessel that he had encountered numerous times before. But this time, the Normandy had sharper teeth. “Let ‘em have it!” he ordered, a command Joker follow with alacrity Darting, looping, dodging, the pilot had them dancing around the larger ship, deftly avoiding the beam that had been their destruction before.

The surge of satisfaction at destroying the vessel was short lived, as it erupted in a fireball more than large enough to knock the Normandy into a crazy, barely controlled descent that could more bluntly be called a crash.

“Everyone alive?” Shepard checked over comms. When that was affirmative, he followed with, “Assemble in the CIC.”

This was it. A quick rundown of schematics pulled from the vessel and what he expected to find inside, a victory whatever it takes reminder, and it was time to go.

---

Than prayed silently to Amonkira as they disembarked from the Normandy. Let our hands strike true, and victory be worth the cost. There would be a cost, of this he was sure. He was familiar enough with Shepard’s methods by now there was little room for doubt. If I am among that cost, please guide my son, that his steps may trace a better path.

He wondered, if he should fall, whether his client would hire someone else to complete the task of killing Shepard or if they would let it go. He hoped it wouldn’t come  to that. He wanted to survive, to speak more with Kolyat before the end, but it would be what it was.

They split into groups, Shepard leading Thane and Zaeed, Garrus the rest of them, to serve as distractions while Tali crawled through the vents to let them pass. It was a good call; the Collectors swarmed thick enough any other plan would likely have been overwhelmed by the sheer number of them. They were not given the luxury of time for sighting in targets, so Thane stuck with his pistol--and occasionally biotics--firing, reloading, firing, with the odd interruption to scrounge more thermal clips because he’d run out.

Shepard’s back and forth with Garrus and Tali was just background noise, like the beating wings of their foes, as Thane gave his focus to the task at hand.

Tali stumbled out of the vent just as they finally reached the heavy doors barring the end of the hall. She beelined for the access panel, teetered as a couple shots ricocheted off her shields.

“Get it open!” Shepard barked as the three of them wheeled to give her cover fire. “Vakarian, where the hell are you?!”

“Almost there, a group of the bastards ambushed us!”

A Collector dove toward Tali and Thane shot it--rushed, imperfect, but the grazing shot knocked it off course long enough for him to try again. This time, it fell and did not rise again.

---

The sense of urgency, pounding Hurry, hurry, hurry through Shepard’s veins thrummed louder as the door beeped and started to hiss open. A muffled burst of gunfire reached his ears a handful of seconds before Vakarian and the others came into view, hauling ass down the passageway toward them.

“Massani, Krios! Through the door!” He rattled off a stream of cover fire, driving the Collectors to hang back for a second. Just a second. But it was enough time for the second fire team to reach the end of the passage and dart through the door.

Krios and Massani maintained some cover fire from the far side of the door, buying breathing room for the others as one by one they darted through the door. Lawson brought up the rear, her barrier shimmering out as the doors groaned on closing.

“They’re stuck!” Tali bit out, shoving one door with scraping, grinding protest along its track. Shepard and Lawson ducked through the narrowing gap just as a final shot slammed into Lawson’s shoulder and sent her stumbling.

“I’m fine,” she ground out, slapping medigel on the injury as the group of them shook off the adrenaline to register what the room held.

The walls were lined with dozens, hundreds, thousands, of the Collectors’ pods. The dingy yellow glow throughout the room spoke to them all being occupied.

Movement caught Shepard’s eye and he swung his rifle toward the potential threat. it was just one of the nearby pods; the dark-skinned, dark-haired woman inside stirred, pounding against the transparent canopy in a futile attempt to escape. Even as Tali and Krios rushed forward to try and free her, the pod hummed and the woman only had time for a single terrified scream before she simply... liquefied into a sludgy brown paste which drained away almost before his crew had time to recoil in horror.

“Commander! Over here!” Taylor fumbled with a nearby pod until a very disoriented figure tumbled out. “It’s the crew!”

That broke the horror that had frozen them, and the group surged forward to free their comrades before the same fate could befall them.

Chambers. Daniels. Donnelly. Gardner. All of them were here, as Shepard ran a mental roster, but Chakwas was the one to explain. Near as she could tell, the humans in the pods were being reduced to genetic material and ...piped elsewhere in the base through tubes, though she wasn’t sure where or why. That sounded like where they needed to go.

“We need to get them out of here,” Taylor said, hovering near a few of the engineers as they stumbled to their feet.

We don’t have time for this. “You wanna take them back, be my guest,” Shepard returned brusquely. “We need to destroy this base, but we can mange without you if it’s that important to you.”

“It is.” Taylor’s voice was firm as he tugged Chambers’ arm around his shoulders and herded the crew back toward the Normandy. “See you on the other side, Commander.”

---

Thane almost offered to accompany them; it was a lot of people for one man to safeguard. But Shepard was already snapping orders for the next stage of their infiltration. He’d be taking Garrus and Zaeed, sheltered from the overabundance of Seeker swarms by Jack, down the shortest route that followed the tubes. “The rest of you follow Lawson on the other route EDI indicated, draw some of the flying bastards off.”

Forward, then. Thane checked his reserve of thermal clips, made sure his pistol was undamaged, and fell in with the others as the door hissed open and they pressed on.

They hadn’t advanced far when the first Collectors appeared, drones and a small number of husks that were easy enough tot pick off. Their numbers only increased as time wore on, but that was the point wasn’t it? Draw them here, so Shepard could get through. Thane stood shoulder to shoulder with Tali as their squad advanced, shared his thermal clips when hers ran out first, lent what strength he could to the biotic barrier Samara had summoned to protect their backs.

“There’s a lot of them, Shepard!” Miranda hollered into comms when they were forced to take cover from a particularly large group, dotted with abominations and led by a scion.

“Good!” his reply crackled back underscored by gunfire. “Keep them the hell off us! We’re almost there!”

She hissed a quiet curse, then, “Yes, Commander!” Her fist flared blue and a pair of husks flew off the edge of the path. “Samara, push them back on three!”

The justicar nodded and the rest of them by unspoken agreement turned their focus to give the women cover fire.

“One!”

Strafing fire raked Grunt’s armor and he bellowed a laugh as he shot back. Thane admired his defiance.

“Two!”

The barrier Samar had been maintaining shrank inward in preparation. Amonkira, guide their strength.

“Three!”

The combined power of two gifted biotics exploded outward in a wash over overwhelming ozone-scented blue. Just as it slammed into the descending Collector horde, a heavy, white hot pain tore into Thane’s arm and side. 

He was dimly aware of Miranda yelling for them to move, of a hand closing around his bicep to drag him with them, of his legs moving to keep up until the gave out and he was hauled over someone’s shoulder instead. There was  rushing sound in his ears and it wasn’t until it was it was punctuated by gunfire and Miranda hollering at Shepard they were under heavy attack Thane realized it was Collector wings and not the lure of unconsciousness.

“Give us a minute, Lawson!”

“We don’t have a minute!”

Shepard’s curse was broken by static. “Vakarian, get that door open! Now!”

Time was fuzzy with the pain that swirled fresh at each jolted step of whoever (probably Grunt) was carrying him, but it still seemed an eternity before, muffled, he could hear someone calling an encouragement.

He slammed against something and the pain flared so white, for a moment he saw Irikah’s face. There was a dull murmur of voices, then a spike of numb shot through the pain and spread, blanketing, pushing back until he was aware again.

Tali knelt beside him, her omnitool just closing down as he became conscious of her presence. “Good, you’re still with us.”

“Thanks to you,” Thane rasped. He passed one hand gingerly over his injured side. The healing wound was large, like from a plasma- or other energy-based weapon rather than bullets. He could cope much better with bullets.

“You are welcome,” Tali said, pushing to her feet and offering him a hand up.

Thane accepted, but leaned against a wall once he’d gained his feet. It would take a few minutes for the medigel to truly do its work. He cast a surveying glance about as he waited. Mordin was limping heavily, Grunt, Garrus, and Zaeed all had significant battle damage to their armor....

And Miranda lay still, half-slumped against a wall, pistol resting in her limp grasp. Shepard knelt next to her, blood streaked in his stark white hair, but stood even as Thane’s gaze landed on them. “She’s gone,” he confirmed, as if there was any doubt. He half-turned, hand rising to his ear, expression flint-hard. “Got it, Joker.”

Garrus’ mandibles clicked. “The crew?”

“They made it back.” Shepard shoved a new clip into his rifle. “Taylor died getting them there.”

Thane grimaced. He should have gone along. 

“It happens,” Shepard said, as if he’d caught the self-reproof without even looking. “According to EDI, this next room’s the core. Vakarian, Massani, you stick with me, the rest of you cover our asses.”

He didn’t wait for agreement or confirmation, just strode to the console for the necessary door and and punched in the command to open it. Garrus and Zaeed followed silently, the former briefly locking eyes with Tali before the three of them disappeared down the hallway.

---

The rest of them hastily arranged themselves in a defensive perimeter, gazes and weapons trained on the two doors that separated them from the Collector forces.

Thane said a rushed but heartfelt prayer to Kalahira for their fallen, working the fingers of his injured arm to test the medigel’s progress. It would do.

The sheer number of Collectors made the task a difficult one--more than once Thane feared running out of clips for his pistol until a brief pause between waves allowed them to scavenge and share from the fallen. This sort of sustained firefight was far from his normal milieu, but this close to the end he was still determined to do his best.

They held as battle chatter from Shepard’s squad broke through the static. They held even though Mordin fell and Legion fell and Jack nearly followed, snarling and spitting curses as she struggled back to her feet. They held until Shepard’s order came over comms, “Move if you don’t want to go up with this place!”

Then they ran, Samara and Jack shielding them from as much as they could, the rest picking off the bolder Collectors even as they ran. They reached the Normandy, adrenaline surging as they gave Shepard’s squad cover fire until they were aboard as well. Joker had them rocketing toward the relay before the doors had fully closed, and the whole ship seemed to hold its breath until they were safely through.

---

As the adrenaline wore off, all Shepard wanted to do was sleep. But he couldn’t. Not yet. There were things that needed to be settled first.

Krios was in the medbay, sitting serenely still as Dr. Chakwas more thoroughly treated the nasty, half-healed burns on his side and forearm. (In sharp contrast to Jack, who was glowering and cursing about both having to sit still to let her injuries heal and being around so many people.)

“Looks like we both survived,” Shepard said without preamble. Chakwas took the unspoken cue and moved off to see to Jack.

“Indeed.” Krios didn’t move, hands folded in his lap as he sat on the edge of a bed.

“You make up your mind about that head start?”

Krios chuckled. “I believe my recuperation will be a bit more than a day, Shepard. A good time for me to visit my son, I think, and a good head start for you as the contract resumes.” His lips twitched to a small smile. “Perhaps my client will reconsider in light of your actions.”

“Doubt it,” Shepard snorted. “I get the sense their beef with me is personal. Doesn’t lend itself to rational decision making. We’ll see, I guess.” Stranger things had happened, but he wouldn’t be holding his breath.”I’m not going anywhere near the Citadel, in case the Council gets any bright ideas about me or my ship, but we can drop you on Omega before we head off.”

Krios nodded solemnly. “A fair arrangement.”

A less intelligent person might have wondered--hoped--leaving him on Omega injured was as good as a death warrant, but Shepard had seen him fight. It would take more than a set of already-healing electrical burns to put Krios at a disadvantage against the thugs on Omega. (And if they did happen to prove too much for him, one thing less for Shepard to worry about.)

“We can have you there in an hour or so,” he said. “once the doc’s done with you go get your things together.”

Krios inclined his head. “I shall.”

---

It had been a while since he was last on Omega and Thane hadn’t missed it in the slightest. Fortunately he wouldn’t be here long. Passage elsewhere was easy enough to  procure, and from there he could work his way to the Citadel. He could take some time to mend more fences with Kolyat before he resumed his hunt.

That was one thing about Shepard; he was never a hard man to find.

[alpacaparkaseok]

7 Secrets Drabbles

The one where Jungkook finds out

This is a Drabble/oneshot based off of my soulmate series “7 Secrets” from the point of view of Jungkook. Namjoon says that Jungkook is the one who originally found out about the soulmates, so I thought it’d be fun to show what happened exactly. Enjoy!

Genre: BTS Soulmate au

Warnings: None as far as I know

Word count: 1.7k 

Song recommendation: “Invisible String” by Taylor Swift

Tapping on the door I wait for a few seconds before peeking my head into the room. Clutching my laptop close to my chest it takes a moment before my eyes adjust to the dimly lit room.

“Oh, hey Jungkook. How’s it going?” One of the staff on the editing team greets me, shuffling around as he clicks around on his computer. 

 “Hey Ji-hoon. Can I borrow your computer again? My editing program crashed, and I really want to get this done.” I hold up my laptop for emphasis. 

Ji-hoon’s eyes trail over to his screen, nodding absentmindedly while he no doubt gets the program up and running. “Uh, yeah. That’s fine...let me just…” He snaps his fingers when he finishes. “There you go! Just don’t go in and mess up my stuff, alright?” He teases me.

 I’m quick to promise him I won’t do anything of the sort. “Are you going somewhere?” I ask as Ji-hoon grabs his jacket. He nods, edging his way toward the door.

“Yeah, meeting up with some friends for dinner. I just stayed a little later so I could get ahead on some stuff. When you’re finished just save everything and shut it down, alright?” With that, Ji-hoon disappears from sight. 

I sigh, settling down into his chair. My eyes grow wide, getting into the zone as I try my best to get back to the point I was in the editing process before my program decided to kick me out. 

 The hours tick by, and I jump up with a shock as I glimpse the time. 

“Oh no,” I groan. “Jin is going to kill me.” I was supposed to help him with our unit song tonight. He’s probably been waiting for over an hour. 

 Quickly, I save and am in the process of trying to send myself the edited video when something catches my eye. On the bottom right-hand corner of the computer is a sticky note. Clearly in Ji-hoon’s writing, which says, “fix opening credits for ep. 64”. 

I furrow my brow. “What episode is he talking about?” It’s been a while since the 64th episode of Run! BTS. I quickly send off my edited video, leaning back in the chair and rubbing my eyes. 

Editing is a kind of twisted hobby of mine. It’s exhausting, but it’s also the most calming thing in the world to me. Once I manage to sit up again I go to power of the computer. A thought pops up into my head. 

 “Ji-hoon seemed like he was in a rush earlier...I should probably help him fix the opening credits for episode 64 so he doesn’t have to worry about it later. That can be my thanks to him for letting me use his stuff all the time.”

Mumbling to myself has long become a habit, and it’s in moments like these that I completely forget I don’t have an audience to narrate every little thing for. 

Rolling my neck and sending Jin a text apologizing for showing up late, I get to work. Jin will understand, he’d do the same.

It doesn’t take me long to bring the files back up, quickly finding the video again. I double click on it, turning the volume down low and double checking that Ji-hoon isn’t about to barge in here demanding to know what I’m doing. 

 The screen is black for a moment, just the words, “Insert opening credits” showing up before big bold letters spill across the screen. 

 Episode 64 - “Back to school” I hum in acknowledgement, we’ve certainly had plenty of school-related episodes in Run! BTS. However, when the scene that first appears is inside a kitchen that I’m sure I’ve never seen before, I’m wracking my brain, trying to place the episode. 

 Quickly pausing it, I pull up the calendar on my phone. If this was episode 64 of Run it would have been in… February?

“We didn’t film anything in February…” I mumble. “Was this already recorded?” I shrug, pressing play. Maybe I’ll remember it once I watch it through. Shaking off the strange feeling in my stomach that forces me to the edge of my seat, I watch with wide eyes. 

 “Soon-ah?” A whisper comes from the audio, although the owner of the feminine voice is nowhere to be found. “Soon-ah? I’m so sorry, did I wake you up?” Indecipherable mumbles respond. “Oh, ok. I was just wondering, could you maybe help me with the map one more time before I leave? I’m scared that I’ve got it all backwards, and I don’t want to be late for my first class because I’m lost.”

Some more grumbling and loud thumping happen before a girl appears in view. She’s chewing on her lip, clearly nervous about something. Heading toward the kitchen she reaches up for a bowl, map tucked under her arm. Looking directly into the camera she gives a cheery wave despite her obvious nerves. I’m pretty sure I’ve lost the ability to breathe. Or formulate sentences.

“You...you…” The words fall from my lips without my consent. “This is…what is this? Where - who…”

I know who that is. Even though she remains nameless to me for the moment, I know exactly who that is. The girl in the screen continues on, completely clueless to my current predicament. She’s humming to herself, pouring a bowl of cereal. I find myself leaning closer, nearly falling off my chair in the process. 

“Wha- what’s the map for? Where are you going? Is there a map I can use that will lead me to you?” The questions dive off my tongue even though I know the chances of the girl before me turning back to the camera and answering them are slim to none. 

 “Do you want me to bring you food, Soon-ah?” The angel asks, eyes looking down the hallway. I’m pinching myself, fighting the urge to cry out and beg her to turn around again. Look at the camera. Look at me. 

 The girl shrugs when she receives an answer that the audio doesn’t pick up. That’s when I notice the microphone clipped to the girl’s clothes. Somehow, these girls are aware and participating in some sort of show… Why didn’t I know about this? 

 Wait, why am I upset about this?

It’s almost as if she hears my thoughts, because the girl is quick to turn around and remind me of exactly why I should be upset about not knowing about her existence earlier. She returns the box of cereal to where it must be resting beside the camera. Looking into the camera again as though it’s an everyday occurrence, she winks. 

 “I’m starting my first day at the university, so if you’re watching this Jungkook, wish me luck. I’ll do my best not to get lost,” she holds up the map to emphasize just how hard she’s trying to not get lost.

 “You...this is for me? I- good luck!” Too many thoughts are rolling around my head now to really get anything straight, but there is one thought that sticks around. I breathe it out. 

 “I never got my results back.” 

 Hand running through my hair at lightning speed I gulp down as much as my lungs will allow. Suddenly the floor has disappeared from beneath me as I remember with a start going in for soulmate testing. The procedures lasted about a week, and we were told that we would be given our results within a couple of months. Counting in my head I strain to remember when that was. Definitely more than two months. 

 More like three years. 

 While we were told beforehand that most results come back as inconclusive, we were actually never told that’s what happened with our tests. I guess I just assumed as much when we never heard back about it. 

 But there’s this girl in a kitchen hunched over eating cereal and studying a map out with such precious concentration that I can’t help but curse myself for being so young and naive and stupid. I should have demanded an answer. 

 A moment passes before another girl hops into the kitchen, the two of them smiling. “Are you excited? I see you’re back to studying that map.” The new girl asks, stuffing her hands in her hoodie as she begins studying out the contents of the fridge. 

 It’s a BTS hoodie, that much I can see. However, when she finally turns her back to the camera I chuckle. More specifically, it’s a Suga hoodie. 

 “Yeah, I think so. It feels nice to take this next step instead of just…” the girl with the map; my girl, sneaks a look at the camera. My heart stutters at the indirect eye contact. “You know. Waiting.”

I jump as my phone suddenly sounds, hardly able to tear my attention away from the scene in front of me. Quickly pausing it I see Jin’s contact photo taking up the screen of my phone, and I answer it.

“Where are you?” 

 I don’t bother to answer his question as a sob I didn’t realize I was containing rips through me. “Hyung! H-hyung you won’t believe this.”

“Kook where are you? Is everything al-”

“Soulmates, hyung! We have soulmates! And they never told us, they’ve kept them from us, but they’re real and...and mine is going to the university and she’s so nervous and-”

“Jungkook,” Jin breathes out in wonder. “What happened? Where are you?”

I’m already a step ahead of him, quickly exporting the video and sending it to my personal email. There’s no way I’m losing this, not now that I finally know. 

“I’m still at work, I’m on the bottom floor.” My voice still wavers, but it’s growing steadily harder as the fire within me threatens to set everything it touches alfame. Starting with Bang PD. “Just, wait for me, ok? Meet me in the conference room on the second floor. I have something to show you.”

I don’t even wait to hear a response before I’m up, reluctantly closing out of the computer before bolting out the door and up to the second floor. Holding my laptop close to my chest I dial another number, the tears already flowing as I hear his voice. 

 “Hey Kook, what’s-”

“Joon,” I croak out, the tears making my throat close up. “I need you to listen to me, this is important.”

Taglist: @taylorroe3 @mae-musicbitch @agustneeds @eusticenatalie @heartblackerthancoffee

[ruminativerabbi]

Israel

In these United States, there is always—or almost always—a kind of a lull in the frenzy just before Election Day in presidential election years. The candidates have or haven’t made their cases. The rallies are over. The officials charged with overseeing the voting procedure itself take over and make ready the polling places and the ballots or voting machines. The network news teams poised to cover the vote-counting run mostly background pieces so as to have the time to prepare for their Big Day. And the electorate, the actual people poised to cast the actual ballots, are thus given a bit of breathing space in which to reflect on their options and their choices as a way of preparing to exercise their franchise and, in so doing, to participate personally in charting the nation’s course in the coming four years.

The lead-up to the election earlier this week in Israel was nothing at all like that. Just the opposite, actually: from my perch here in the cheap seats, things actually appeared to be speeding up and becoming, if anything, even more frenzied in the days leading up to Tuesday’s election as the candidates displayed ever-heightened eagerness to step out of their own shadows and into a favorable enough light to win them the lion’s share of the votes about to be cast.

Prime Minister Netanyahu, for example, announced his theoretical intention to begin annexing parts of the West Bank. This, of course, would be impossible practically or politically, which reality was rather starkly mirrored by the almost complete lack of response to the proposal from the Palestinians themselves…or from any other quarter of serious consequence. But the P.M., still reeling from the Attorney General’s announcement last month that he, Bibi, is about to face the AG’s effort to bring charges of bribery, fraud, and breach of trust against him and taking a page from our own president’s playbook, chose to make his dramatic announcement as a way of playing to his own base…and making it clear that a vote for anyone but for himself will lead Israel directly towards the unpalatable, but without him inevitable, prospect of having a second terror state on its longest border. And any Israeli regardless of political orientation will agree easily that one is more than enough! 

For his part, Benny Gantz had his own challenge to face, namely convincing the public to look past the slightly troubling fact that he has no political experience at all and that holding the highest office in the land would thus be his first foray into politics. But—and this had to be the truly challenging part—he had to pull that off without making him sound like the Israeli Donald Trump. (That comparison wouldn’t have been all that fair:  before the incumbent was elected, the United States had already had four presidents who came to the presidency without ever having been previously elected to public office: Zachary Taylor, Ulysses S. Grant, Herbert Hoover, and Dwight D. Eisenhower. Other than Hoover, however, all were war heroes. And Hoover served as Secretary of Commerce under Presidents Warren G. Harding and Calvin Coolidge, which leaves Trump as the sole example of an American president with no prior record of public or military service at all.) Still, Gantz—and his slightly unexpected political bedfellow, Yair Lapid—gave it their all and, at least in my opinion, managed to make Gantz sound not like a dilettante or a last-minute dabbler but like a serious politician poised to lead the nation forward in a way that would both address its security needs (Gantz, a well-respected general, served as chief of staff for the Israel Defense Forces from 2011 to 2015) and find a path forward to peace with the neighbors and their allies throughout the Arab and Muslim world. (Also not lost on anyone is the fact that Israeli law forbids a Chief of Staff from entering politics for a period of three years following his service to the IDF in that capacity, so this was actually Benny Gantz’s first opportunity to run for election—which only made him feel to most far like less someone who somehow arrived out of nowhere to run for the highest office in the land and more like a leader-in-waiting who had no choice but to bide his time until the opportunity to run finally presented itself.)  

And mixed into all of this were the side-show candidates, another way in which Israeli elections tend to differ from American ones: under our rules, candidates with no chance to win tend to fall away even before their parties’ conventions, while in Israel the fringe candidates remain vocally and fully visibly in the race until Election Day. Indeed, the Israeli political system itself more or less precludes the premature dismissal of almost anyone at all, including people with no real chance of winning, for the simple reason that it is generally understood that the chances any party at all has of winning a 61-seat majority in the 120-seat Knesset is basically zero. (This is historically so as well: in the seventy-one years since Israel was founded as a nation in 1948, it has only happened once that a single party had a majority of seats in the Knesset…and the slimness of that majority—one single seat—led to elections within a year.) And so, other than for those few months in 1969, Israel has always been ruled by some sort of coalition—either a so-called “grand coalition” featuring only the two largest parties or, far more commonly, a coalition cobbled together by the leader of the party that won the most votes that inevitably includes people who would be marginal figures in most other settings. (Readers unfamiliar with this strange process that regularly invests parties just large enough to have a handful of seats—or a single seat—in the Knesset with power far out of sync with the size of their supporter-base can click here to see the very thoughtful and thorough essay on just that topic by Evelyn Gordon published in the on-line magazine Mosaic just last week, which I read carefully and from which I myself learned a lot.)

And now we have the results. Sort of. Or rather we do, but without knowing with anything like real certainty where they will lead. This is also a huge difference from our American system where, yes, the results of the popular vote in a presidential election have to be either confirmed or not confirmed by the Electoral College, but where the outcome of that vote can be predicted more or less certainly once the popular vote is counted. (Yes, there is the issue of the so-called “faithless elector” in our country to reckon with, but it’s not much of one: out of the 23,548 electors who have participated in our nation’s 58 presidential elections since 1789, only 157 have voted for candidates other than the one they were supposed to support…and of them 71 had to support an alternate candidate because the one they were theoretically supposed to support had died between Election Day and the vote of the Electoral College.) But in Israel, voters vote for parties, not candidates, and the normal practice is for the President of the country to invite the leader of the party that won the most seats to form a government. As of when I am writing this, that has yet to happen.

To most outsiders, it feels like a kind of a tie: 35 seats for the Likud, Netanyahu’s party, and precisely the same amount for the Blue and White party led by Benny Gantz and Yair Lapid. Yes, the Likud got more votes, but only about 14,000 more—which margin turned out not to be meaningful in terms of Knesset seats awarded. So, a tie. But also not a tie because the nature of coalition politics in Israel puts the Likud firmly in the driver’s seat with a coalition of ultra-Orthodox and right-wing parties bringing their combined thirty seats to the ball, thus giving Bibi the ability easy to form a government with a 65-seat majority. Not such a big majority, it’s true. But the parties who promised to join Gantz and Lapid in a new government only won twenty seats. And so the 35-35 tie turns more meaningfully into a 65 to 55 victory for the Likud.  Or does it? There are apparently still tens of thousands of ballots left to be counted and if those new votes grant even a single extra seat to the Blue and White party, then that could conceivably be enough to force the President’s hand and oblige him to ask Benny Gantz to see if he can form a government. And with that the rules of the game would change yet again. He might not be able to do it, but he also might—the nature of coalition politics in Israel is that no one dances with the one who brung him (or her), that the system resembles more than anything a vastly consequential game of musical chairs in which there are more bottoms than chairs to accommodate them and whoever scrambles fast enough when the music stops stays in the game, and in which it isn’t ever really over until it’s really over.

So, at least as I write this on Thursday morning, it feels like there will be a fifth Netanyahu government. That is either good or not good for Israel, but for Americans like myself who support Israel wholeheartedly and without reservation it means coming face to face with an unpalatable reality, or at least with one widely perceived as unpalatable. I am not a huge fan of the Prime Minister’s, and not solely because he betrayed my colleagues in Israel by reneging on the Kotel deal after it was widely considered to be a done deal. Indeed, there are lots of reasons to feel uncertain about his leadership and surely not least of all because he is facing indictment on multiple charges involving bribery and corruption. And yet, despite it all, I continue to be a firm supporter of the democratic ideal. The people spoke. The man won, sort of. We have no choice but to move forward and, as we do, to support vocally and unequivocally not the man or the party, but the inalienable right of the people to choose their own leaders and, in so doing, to chart their own destiny forward into the future. What American could argue with that?

[calvinlepesh]

Interpret how u please but know it saved my mind and soul.

SUMMARYWe have primitive speech in comparison to aliens/ superior being/s/ {Our God self]DONT FUCKING READ THIS IF U ARENT OPEN MINDED! DEADASS FUCKING SERIOUS UR GONNA MISS OUT.to become open minded you must have some form of empathy. Some form meaning you must have to have either the almost perfect understanding empathy based on your ability to place yourself in somebody elses position along with all of their past tramas, what they just fucking ate, basically whatever relevant to the situation apparent or not. I.E do I help this guy for gas hes asking the clerk hes begging he says hes got no money has to get home to his family. seems like a good dude. not making a fuss. being very nice about it. I paid for his fucking gas. Thats good energy right there. sent away and returned in ways that probably already occured but I don't reconize them as a direct result from helping. If you did what you thought was right or whatever you wanted to do actually. Which is what you're going to do anyways cause thats what you fucking decieded you wanted yourself to do. So if this doesn't hit you like it hits most people and myself included. Then just close the book and call me insane. If being insane is living content in my beliefs and my tommorow during the today but with passion for the future. then im fucking insane. Because thats what my program has done for me Truly search for good and if it isn't what you want to spend your time trying to help or doesnt concern you. You weren't meant to be concerened by it and thats okay because it will concern someone else at the right time. etc considered and making a choice based off of critical information secured from a display of empathy. If you cant show empathy practice please fucking practice before you continue reading. Actually idgaf you do you. Your life do what you desire.Speech is used to manifest things into reality of time. Typically faster if done consistently. Tested and proved. By many. My barber for example. little over 7 months ago living in a 1 bed room dumb girlfriend cat and hes cutting hair in his kitchen. The entire time throughout the year  hes telling me about this house hes getting his own very first house brand fucking new completely taylored to him. He told me saying Lep yeah my mom is helping me buy a house and get my career moving finally. After long periods of being told to basically fuck off his mom basically has a change of heart randomly. Hes got a 3 bedroom house. A barber room with checkered floot. 3 tvs niceass fucking interior furniture hes painting the house and has done many renovations over the last few months of him having this house. Just returning there earlier tonight actually I had walked in and had to check if he changed the paint in his front room again! Truly He doesn't even realize it completely. Hes almost so dumb hes smart. in a sense that being happy is being smart. He isn't stupid tho. My barber is on some of the same shit I am. Some. thats a different story tho. The point is he talked to me everytime he cut my hair for 6 month. Not just me I know for certain. He would talk motherfuckers ears off im sure they hated it. Honestly I hadn't been enlightened at this point. I fucking hated it. OMg yeah we fucking get it bro u want checkered floors. So many motherfuckers are talking nowadays. But do they always talk the same shiteveryday? Ill say it again. Do you talk about the same thing everysingle day? Do you talk to someone every single day? I don' t even have to ask what or why you do it. You're doing it because you have the desire of the company of that person. or their opinion, Whatever they have of value or beneficially or mutually beneficially to you or both. My barber talked about all the cool shit he was gonna do with his house. Having a pit bike track in the back. making a fire bit. building a deck. Making a TV back drop out of stained wood stained nailed and cut by him and I. Painted the entire house. CHECKERED FLOORS MOTHERFUCKERS. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO is MANIFEST IT IN YOUR LIFE. The sooner you start talking about and creating this lifestyle and figuring out how you're going to do it one day at a time. Talk to the person ur nervous to talk to. If they fall in love with you. THATS FUCKING KICKASS. if he thinks u dont belong in his universe right now understand thats a huge fucking positive in your life. Now you can live in this moment in time and know in this moment in time that it isn't happening because if it isn't meant to happen yet if at all. For all you know you could meet  him in 5 years and get married have 3 kids live happily ever after. Straight the fuck up! Right now im consistently talking to a girl i had the hugest crush on but never did anything about it. WHY DIDN'T I DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT. CAUSE HOW FUCKING AWKWARD WOULD IT HAVE BEEN in minnesota when im visiiting and havent been home for christmas in 5 years that we just so happen to go get breakfest at a taveren like wtf? and its where she works serving. Top it off while we are walking in I see the sign of the place and reconize it from an instagram post that she posted and I had liked and inturn she liked my picture. whatever not important. all im trying to say is the future is 100% unpredictable in every sense. but at the same time it will be 100% guarenteed with my mindset program if applied properly. You never know tomorrow and that may scare you but what if you already had chosen what happens tomorrow long before anything existed? Do you trust your own judgement? The best part is you dont even have to trust your own judgement. YOU DONT HAVE TO DO ANYTHING YOU DONT WANT TO DO. But sometimes doing them is what you're meant to do typically for your benefit anyways, if not its a punishment, and if it isn't your benefit its somebody elses and they may or may not know that you're the direct cause. you may or may not know ever. But I believe that when we die we are enlightened and are shown the purpose to life. whether a test or a simulation. multiple tests inside one another or something uncomprehensible to myself or anyone. But thats different. What I do know is that a key to a good life Is a good mindset. Choose the mindset of I'm the shit. Cause I am, Cause I decieded I am, Im good fucking looking, People may call you a slut or whore but honestly it may be disgusting a little bit but they're probably jealous of all the hot people you've been with. Or even the fact ur getting laid. most single people hate on girls anyway. aint no boy in a nice healthy relationship talking shit on females and if he is he probably likes u and is trying to hide it. anyways besides the point. You need to develop something you say to yourself {I recommend} outloud {especially for getting started} whether written or set as an alarm for your phone ur background to your phone it could be a picture with a completely hidden message behind it. just associate something or have something that has things you know deep down in your soul you need to say to yourself. For example for me, Ive always been sensitive, still am a lot less than I was alot, But over time After being outcasted from my family at 15 being legally kiddnapped, and broken down on all aspects of self with many failed although maybe not completely failed attempts at bettering myself to the way that works for normies or the purposefully chosen people to be uneducated of the power of speech. They were esentially taking me in at 15 with a metaphorical emotionally broken leg. { ie i hate myself and im a bad person i dont give a fuck and i just want to die cause i dont understand the world} that was my attitude ie the broken metaphorical leg that I came into the school but for the sake of this metaphor this hospital with. However pretend in our metaphor the break in my leg is un noticeable. if ur slow as fuck just know the broken leg is a metaphor for my fucked up thinking. The hospitol or treatment center/school I was at cant fix my leg without me telling them my leg is broken. Now they knew something is wrong or else I wouldnt be there. Many claim at that hospital upon recent arrival that there's been a mistake and they don't need to be there. many times I laughed with everyone else at group along with the director Parker. Parker I believe knows alot about this but would never share with the group for possiblities of the kids claiming they're being brain washed or told to believe such things without an adult or atleast enlightened soul and mind these practices may sound slightly lucritive. Anyway back to the story. Metaphorically I tried many times to dodge and weave around questions asked in therapy sometimes even hamming it up to seem cool because of how insecure I was. trying to seek acceptance from my therapist lmfao very dark times. Which got darker with small light at the end of the tunnel. Thats the thing about parker he never took away full hope and if he did he had a good reason for doing so. I completely trust his judgement even to this day. Lying to ur therapist or even if they think you're lying to your therapist which usually they're right. The only reason they were ever wrong with me lying was because the decision was made based on previous situations of past lies. Lied before you'll lie again? possibly. Anyway, the darkness brought upon u metaphorically and almost not was the wall/work crew. ADAYONTHEWALL In a way this is tramatic but it almost shouldnt be. It was trautic because I put myself there many times. Purposefully yes in a sense but not the living sense. I wanted to be the perfect student at Liahona. Be the leader everyone looked up to. Be the family fucking leader. But I literally just was to immature and weak in all aspects. Too much so to do any of those things. Now that I think back the beauty of it Is I did eventually get all of those things. Because I manifested them. I desired both with my words and the vibes my words created in my body that the universe recieved. My body had translated what I wrote in my daily evals every night at Liahona. I attended Liahona for 711 days. 9 Days short from 2 years. The program is 9 months long. Back to the main subject. The wall. 6 am wake the fuck up. HEADCOUUUUUNT!!!. Big ass motherfucking dude named Quando shouts it at the top of his lungs. LMFAO pretty funny to think but this guy would scare the shit out of new kids in the mornings. shouting out of their beds. I definitely woke up thats for sure. The whole facility of 50-60 boys come out of there room pretty much as fast as possible although groggily everyone dressed in the same navy blue shorts and grey liahona t-shit tucked into our gym shorts with either white black or grey solid socks. No designs or wild shit. All the rules at Liahona were created over the years it had transitioned from an old house to the facility to the newer facility. Everything from tuck in ur chair at all times to. turn off the lights when you leave a room. Hundred of rules probably around over a thousand actually. I hated it off the bat but what was I gonna do? anyway. After everyone lines up in a U- formation with quando standing in the open portion of the U. He would say the same things every morning. Almost as if he was designed to say the same or relatively the same thing. One thing was for sure the message was clear every morning. Go back to your rooms  Today is a new day its a beautiful day make your beds and start studying your quote or doing whatever you're aloud to do until you go for the morning run and breakfest. Now quado probably used a great deal more broken english being from the pacific islands one of em sorry dont actually know. anyways. we dismiss. or atleast. everybody else does. perusual here I am. I sit down in my LIFETIME costco chair sitting mere inches from the head of my twin mattress. I will now sit in this chair for the remainder of the day unless instructed or allowed otherwise. 6-7 morning shift arrives. Can't look away. I think to myself staring at the wall. The desire to look is bad but even the thought of having to write another 300 word essay although they've become easy now, pointless to get one for something so easily avoidable. putting my elbows on my knees I duck my head do as If to pretend im studying the quote (a passage of around 100 words- alot of fucking words that must be memorized in full word for word straight the fuck up and recited to either a very trusted upper level or staff member who will tell you when you mess up and must stop and either use one of 2 hints allowed by parker to figure out whatever word u forgot or fail and take a 300 word essay, However if the quote is failed to be passed off before friday then your points for that week will be cut into half basically prolonging your stay to an extent given points are used to determine not in full but definitely play a large part in even the opportunity of you being recommended to get your next level Ie the quote is very important, very difficult, and I fucking hated it so fucking much you have no idea, Fuck the fucking stupid fucking quote. Parker is smart for the fact that he knows theres got to be something that seems and may possibly be a punishment that is time consuming and benefits those who work harder and faster destroying room for socialism. Basically parker created the quote to see who the fuck is really trying and how hard. Based on when you pass off the quote, If you pass off the quote, and how long of the quote is and whats in the quote. Parker can determine your loyalty to the program and therefore your recovery) Sitting in my chair and ducking my head between my armpits I can finally look around in a small area on each side of my body without getting too ballsy. This is my entertainment for the remainder of the day. Besides playing with my hand/feet. Tapping my feet/hand. looking at the US map{ and sometimes if they put u on the other wall or farther down you got the south america map. To this day can name the south american countries for the most part in alphabetical order. Crazylol. I can do the states right now. anyways. } Eating Oats and water with 2 of the gnarliest fucking red delicious apples every fucking morning. YO WHERE DID U FIND THOSE FUCKING APPLES MARK AND WHOEVER THE FUCK SHOPPED? jesus christ. Still don't eat red delicious apples THERE NOT FUCKING delicious. liars anyway. Before that when morning shift arrives typically shortly after if not immediately after their arrival we do another headcount. Of course yelled much less.... whats the word.... manly lol. Derek had the lamest headcount call. His unenthusiastic Severous snape from harry potter like almost moan like noise. anyways fuck u derek. Derek would take us to get our shoes, at both the new and old facility there are shoe closets that contain every students single pair of running shoes. The new facility also has our never to be touched til we leave or go on a visit personal items. After getting our shoes on. We went outside. line up on the concrete basket ball court in 5 lines spanning accross the entire court each student assigned to a 'family' upon arrival in no paticular order I hope but idk. Usually it was the one with the lowest amount of students but some family leaders would try to boost by trying to speak with newer students asap and within the rules. Communication of any kind with any student not directly monitored without being directly told otherwise is strictly forbidden. No form of communication head bobs nods winks smiles smirks laughs even eye contact for long periods of time. Although of course these rules were broken many times over the course of my stay. I definitely stopped talking to kids. Literally it taught me and im kinda glad it did it taught me to not ask my peers but elder people with wisdom and knowledge for help. However in therapy groups they allow us to communicate freely with the presnence of the therapist who was 1 of two therapists. However he would quickly correct any advice given from a student to a student to not only teach us the correct way to solve whatever issue being discussed  or shared. but almost in a way indirectly teaching you that experience and age are similar but not the same and to seek those that give the best advice and help the most which tend to be the people u want anyways. I did learn many many many many useful things that I still use today from Liahona. Because of going im now 1000x ahead of an average person my age. Given my experiences and newly found and enlightened self. Given to me when I was ready to give it to myself. When I learned I control this reality with how I feel. And I tend to feel how I talk. Because my talk conveys my emotion. Talk good feel good do good deserve good. Lined up on the basketball court right my bad Im side tracked for the millionth time. gimme a break lol anyways. We line up in  5 columns of anywhere from 10 to 13 students typically ten atleast. 50 jumping jacks Go!" 1..2..3..4..5..6..7- ......49..50.  50 laps chop it up. At 8 laps a mile  50 laps was common but not that common. For awhile it was daily. All of our days depended on how all of us acted as a whole. If one person tried to run and doesnt succeed obvisouly never have never will. Everybody goes on lock down. No talking no moving everybody sits  in a circle. study a gigantic quote for that week cause homeboy tried running. or whatever the case is. Basically if you dont pull your weight somebody else has to and that weight is only their cause you are inturn now they hate u lol. Definitely was unlike for a vast majority by the vast majority however luckily in the end all works out as does all things in this universe in my world or currently my world.story sorry again 50 pushups now in unicen aswell 123-49-50 Then he tells us to go run and sometimes he'll tell u how many laps and sometimes hed tell u when you get to his standing spot at the finish line after your first lap. He does this to guage how and when certain students put in more effort. Shorter run? more harder runners? longer run? Whos putting in effort regardless of circumstance ie whats going on in ur life. Ie how many laps you got How are you moving before you know what your next move is. Are you jogging that first lap until derek tells you to save your breath cause you're banking on it being a longer run. Have you been running slow for 3 laps but the run was only 8 today so ur wasting ur time being lazy. Derek would see when you would run hard. who made u run harder cause u wanted to beat them. how many laps does it have to be minimum to run on the first lap. Whos running hard the first lap regardless of circumstance. They could tell who you were and what you could offer before you even knew anything about any of that. Because honestly you didnt give a fuck about trying before. atleast I didn't. I soon did. Over those 711 days I ran 95 percent of the week day mornings. was in niceass shape too for 17. weekends we got off thankf uckign god. After the blisters heal and you get calices on ur feet from running in the beginning being a new student it sucks alot don't get me wrong and it'll suck for awhile but you'll eventually learn to adapt and conquer by anymeans. I quit after 6 laps my first run. Not even a mile. sat down said I needed my inhaler. I didn't even have one.

[fashiontrendin-blog]

I Tested 5 Celebrity Workouts and Sweat Through All My Clothes

http://fashion-trendin.com/i-tested-5-celebrity-workouts-and-sweat-through-all-my-clothes/

I Tested 5 Celebrity Workouts and Sweat Through All My Clothes

When I signed myself up for the challenge of completing five celebrity-approved workouts and recording my experiences, I did so knowing it would be the kind of story that would write itself.

The workouts, on the other hand, were not so self-sufficient: I actually had to do them.

As someone who only medium-likes working out and mega-loves lying down, the heft of that reality weighed heavily upon my hamstrings by the time my A-list sweat saga came to an end. If you’re wondering why I pitched it to begin with, the answer is twofold: 1) I am prone to exercise ruts and there’s no better cure for a comfort zone than a looming deadline and 2) I maintain a glimmering hope that with the right sequence of tiny movements, I can have trapezius muscles identical to Gwyneth Paltrow’s.

With that gut-wrenching cliffhanger firmly in place, I invite you to scroll down and read about my Z-list experience in each class.

y7

Celebrity fans: Ashley Olsen, Bella Thorne and Zosia Mamet

Sweat level: 5/5

The last time I went to a class billed as “hot yoga,” I walked out halfway through because the room smelled like actual human carnage. I apologize for that rather pungent visual, but it provides important context for why I’ve been hesitant to try y7 even though I have friends who are addicted to it. You know who I trust more than my friends, though? CELEBRITIES!!!

And that’s how I found myself lying on a mat in y7’s Soho’s studio. The room was definitely hot, and I sweat a ton throughout the class, but much to my surprise I didn’t hate it. In fact, I actually really liked it — probably because instead of blowing hot air into the room, y7 uses infrared technology to heat your body from the inside out, which is why you’re able to reap the benefits of perspiration without feeling like you’re sitting under a giant hairdryer. The style of yoga was also different from other yoga classes I’ve attended in the sense that after the instructor leads you through a sequence, you’re given time to do it a few times on your own — or just chill in savasana if you prefer.

Ballet Beautiful

Celebrity fans: Zoe Kravitz, Natalie Portman, Alexa Chung…. and pretty much every Victoria’s Secret Angel in existence

Sweat level: 3/5

The actual bodily movements involved in a session Ballet Beautiful are quite easy — think teeny tiny motions no bigger in diameter than the flick of a wrist. Multiplied 100 times over, however, is where they quickly got really, really, really hard. I’ve never felt my inner thigh work so hard to lift my own leg again and again.

At one point, during the arms portion of the session, I protested (with a pained smile) that the weights were awfully heavy. My trainer, Yuki (the nicest smallest strongest person I’ve ever met), laughed and said, “They’re only one pound!” That was the moment I realized I probably will never have the stamina to be a Victoria’s Secret Angel. That’s okay, though. The class was enormously satisfying in an I’m-using-muscles-I-never-knew-I-had kind of way, the studio itself was a tiny chunk of white-walled heaven and, best of all, I got to play with a few tutus.

Body By Simone

Celebrity fans: Taylor Swift, Reese Witherspoon, Chrissy Teigen, Sandra Bullock and Anne Hathaway

Sweat level: 3/5

As a kid, literally all I wanted to do was bounce on a trampoline for 60 uninterrupted minutes. I was very keenly aware of the irony of this erstwhile desire when I somewhat nervously climbed aboard my “tramp,” as they call the mini trampolines in Body By Simone’s Trampoline Cardio class, and started to jump.

Nevertheless, once I got past the feeling that my pelvic floor was about to fall out, I actually started to enjoy myself. The sequence of tramp-based dance moves were tricky, but what I lack in actual skill I make up for in my finely-honed ability to simple jiggle around until sweat starts leaking out of my pores. I liked that this class was hard but not so hard I wanted to leave, or sit down, or rest in a permanent child’s pose. I REALLY liked how the trampoline made it easy to do moves that would normally irritate my pesky joints. My 7-year-old self would be so jealous.

Erika Bloom

Celebrity fans: Kerry Washington, Olivia Wilde, Jennifer Garner and Madonna

Sweat level: 1/5

I’m having trouble putting into words how delightful it felt to be looked at by pilates instructor Erika Bloom. Yes — just LOOKED at. With a simple head-to-toe glance, she somehow identified every microscopic imbalance in my body, and how each originated. It was like being put under an X-ray, except the X-ray was human eyeballs. Don’t ask me if I believe in Superman because after this encounter I might say yes.

The session itself was as fascinating as it was ASMR-inducing. Once Bloom took note of something that needed adjusting or correcting (i.e. my neck muscles, which could use some strengthening, or my pectoral muscles, which could use some loosening), she produced the exact exercise to remediate it. I’m not exaggerating when I say I could actually feel and see it working in real time. Even though I didn’t sweat at all, my body felt brand new by the end…that is, until I hunched over my phone to look at Instagram on the way home.

Tracy Anderson

Celebrity fans: Gwyneth Paltrow

Sweat level: 5/5

I saved this one for last because after seeing Gwyneth Paltrow’s sculpted form on the inaugural cover of Goop I could only assume her chosen workout routine would be challenging enough to make a layperson like myself want to crawl into the fetal position and ask kind passersby to squirt gatorade into my mouth.

The Tracy Anderson atTAin group workout class was challenging indeed — so challenging, in fact, that everyone comes prepared with not one but TWO full-size towels for sufficient sweat-mopping purposes. According to the Tracy Anderson website, their studios are “kept at a very specific temperature and humidity level to facilitate the best results,” which definitely explains the quantity of moisture my body produced, bolstered no doubt by the fact that the class was essentially a series of challenging aerobic moves performed while also somehow holding a plank the entire time, or so it seemed to me. After the 50 minutes were up, I felt swampy, satisfied and ready for my mud-covered photo shoot.

All said and done, despite obstacles instated only by virtue of my own laziness, it was a lot of fun to move my sack of skin cells in a whole bunch of unfamiliar ways. If I had to choose a favorite, I would say Erica Bloom’s pilates class was probably the most enjoyable and impactful, not because it was a grueling workout but because it actually felt like a form of physical therapy equipped to undo some of the inevitable damage wrought from sitting at a desk all day.

I would definitely go back to all five again — once I give myself enough time to forget what a plank feels like.

Feature image by Harry Langdon via Getty Images. Photos via Harling Ross. 

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[stellacarrierimaginationbuilders]

Spirit Guide Selection Freestyle Story by Stella Carrier

Affirmations For Today

https://www.orindaben.com/pages/rooms/affirmations_room/#null

I know the essence of what I want and I get it.

I trust my inner guidance.

My psychic and telepathic abilities are opening up.

I have abundance in every area of my life.

I support the success and happiness of everyone I know.

Other people support my success.

I find time everyday to exercise.

I choose the probable reality I want to experience.

I receive all the nurturing touch I need to feel alive and connected.

I trust that everything comes at the perfect time and in the perfect way.

 I take time to think before I act.

 I am creating heaven on earth

I think outside the box when coming up with creative solutions andor uncovering fruitful mysteries.

My psychic abilities and intuition expand each day.

I’m aware of when to create opportunities for myself and that when one door closes many more doors open.

I contribute to the best of my ability regardless of the reception I receive for doing so.

I Call Upon What I Imagine To Be The Influence of Benevolent Spirits From the Heavenly Realms, my higher self, and my celestial spirit ally team for creativity in both my writings and all other areas of my life both present and future

 Start time after writing and gathering resources, affirmations, coming up with Freestyle Story Title Spirit Guide Selection Freestyle Story

Start time 657 am

End time 802 am

           Olivia Wilkinson has been dead for over 90 years now. She actually lives in a happier realm that was not that much different from the one she left behind in California during the 1920s. During that lifetime, she was born with reddish orange hair and dark brown eyes.  She met her husband Bradley Wilkinson by accident as a 17 year old when she was trying to inquire at a catering event certain prices for reserving certain halls for her parents (she was an only child).

           Brad happened to be there because he too was coming to inquire about a meeting hall reservation for his parents. Olivia looked back at a scene in a comfortable garden like room where she and Brad started to discuss how they were both around 17 years old and came from similar backgrounds. Olivia remembered how they got married and how they ended up having two females who became successful college secretaries at the University of California Los Angeles college campus. The two daughters both ended up being great grandmothers to 2 women and 2 men who owned their own chain of Carmax stores across certain parts of California, and certain areas in Virginia.

           Olivia heads to a library near the house she made her home over 70 years ago and is visiting in one of the libraries of the world she resides in that has a spirit guide training area.  She asks one of the spirits who calls herself Skye overseeing the library area what the qualifications are for being a spirit guide not so much out of seriousness yet rather out of how spirit guides are selected.

           Skye explains that first Olivia would need to look into the type of person she would want to be a spirit guide to in order to get the help necessary to whoever she is overseeing. Next thing, is that Olivia would have to agree with actually postponing reincarnating back on earth even in the next 500 years due to karmic reasons overseeing the person she selects. Olivia is in no hurry anyhow to reincarnate especially after coming from a society and lifetime where it is not so popular to discuss reincarnation back on earth  in new age circles.

           Skye shows Oliva at least three different females that she could choose to be a mentor/spirit guide to. The first is a female spirit who is about to be born in less than a year to a 23 year old single mother who lives in London England named Maxine. The mother is a lookalike of the charismatic Mary J Blige in the Just Fine song who is due to give birth within the next 3 months who is studying to become a nurse. Additionally, both of Maxine’s parents are popular and prosperous butchers in the London area. However, Olivia notices that the unborn baby is going to need emotional help because Maxine’s parents for whatever reason are only slated to live for 15 more years. Additionally, the father of Maxine’s child is married to another woman on top of 3 other barely just above legal age lovers that he has on the side (not one of them is older than 24). For karmic reasons, Olivia is not able to glean more details on Maxine’s situation unless she agree to be her spirit guide. The only other detail she is able to see is that Maxine has a soulmate in New Zealand who is a part-time psychic and hotel manager who looks like Adam Levine in the Animals video.

           The second case scenario of a person who Olivia could oversee if she chose to is an author and creative writing college instructor named Ian Ali in the Los Angeles, California who also happens to like the song Best Day of My Life by the American Authors.  There is a new vacancy for a new spirit guide to move in and help Ian Ali navigate his newfound fame as an author while juggling his love life with a public relations specialist who works at the same college that he teaches creative writing at.

           The third case scenario has Olivia sensing the energy of a 39 year old woman who has only been back in the military for a year but has done very well in her job as a culinary specialist in the U.S. Navy to where she is now eligible for getting transferred to a staff position that would have her cook for a large number of civilians and military people on a military sealift command ship. Olivia tries to see if this female is married, has kids, andor even what physical appearance the female has but the mirror she is looking through does not have that. She only sees that this particular person managed to use writing, keeping track of her schedule, drawing, and keeping an orderly environment to her advantage when it comes to her goals. The only thing that Olivia is allowed to see is that this life on a military sealift command ship would create a love life that mirrors the songs Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift and Timber by Pitbull feat. Kesha (due to the writing of these songs being written in Olivia’s library book) but on the positive side put this female on the ship in contact with hundreds of other military female chefs and female U.S. government sector chefs across all of the military branches. Before, Olivia could ask Skye guidelines on deciding, all Skye could say is that all three of her clients know about the Hollywood letter chief aim exercise as it relates to Bruce Lee’s life. It is just that for one of the three people, one of the person’s goals may actually manifest in 2 years or less due to 4 years. Just then, one of Olivia’s spirit guides asks her if she wants to volunteer as a spirit guide within the 1400 years that she prefers to spend in the various heaven based worlds before she voluntarily reincarnates back on earth. Olivia also notices that one of her spirit guides is holding a book labeled creativity with pictures of the words pure imagination, blueprint studios,1400 years, and the words politician husband.

Resources

From One of My Husbands most recent dreams less than 30 days ago

A sweater that I had seen a female wearing labeled UCLA this past Friday night after my husband and I got done doing some grocery shopping at Costco inside the Wheaton Mall.

Wildest Dreams Song by Taylor Swift

Fine by Mary J Blige

Timber by Kesha and Pitbull

Animals by Maroon 5

Best Day of My Life by American Authors

https://www.carmax.com/search#Distance=250&ExposedCategories=249+265+250+772&ExposedDimensions=249+265+250+772&Page=1&PerPage=20&SortKey=0&Zip=20723

Idea of a spirit guide training university from author Annie Stillwater Gray in her book Education of a Guardian Angel

http://www.bizbash.com/take-a-journey-to-celebrate-pure-imagination/new-york/story/33627?utm_source=linkedin&utm_medium=bizbash&utm_content=blueprintstudios8&utm_campaign=contentmarketing#.WMUJBm_yucw

Celebrate Pure Imagination with Blueprint Studios

http://www.msn.com/en-us/news/chefcook/top-women-chefs-around-the-world/ss-AA9u6Rt?ocid=sl

Top women chefs around the world

 I googled secrets of creativity

  10 Secrets For A More Creative Life

PIERA GELARDI

 http://www.refinery29.com/2016/03/105591/how-to-be-creative#slide-6

http://writingexercises.co.uk/random-name-generator.php