#this has been pingponging around in my head for days

[orbitganymede]

baby daddy simon who dated you for a year before you got pregnant, you’d gone through most of the pregnancy alone, him being deployed 3 weeks after you found out and gone until the very last month of it. the both of you had tried at keeping the relationship together, but the distance and loneliness got to you, you’d been fine when it was just you but now with baby, you can’t let the father go in and out of their life. he wasn’t very happy with the decision to end your relationship, in his mind you were together forever now, tied together by this beautiful thing you two created, he didn’t even want children before you told him you were expecting but his whole world view changed when he realized that he not only had you to protect but a baby as well.

but you’d moved out against his wishes, finding a small flat you like and making it home for you and baby. he would come over sometimes, when he could, and spend some time with baby but honestly he felt more like some glorified uncle, would be convinced he was nothing to this child until he saw those brown eyes staring back at him, the ones that are so completely his, and he comes to the conclusion that this isn’t gonna work.

he starts small, coming over once a week instead of every other weekend, takes the two of you out for dinner instead of letting you cook or ordering in. stays late enough that you offer him the spare bed in the guest room, even with the distance you’ve put between yourselves, you can’t help but care for him, knowing nobody else will.

then he puts more pressure on you, making sure you see just how valuable he is, taking night shift feedings and waking up early with baby when they’re fussy. he offers to take baby for the night so you can go out with your friends, do things you haven’t been able to since baby’s arrival, even pays for a spa day for you to really relax. he stocks your fridge, full of the snacks you love and a bottle of wine for the hard nights. he buys and sets up new decor in the house, finally gets you the pretty white vanity and a new washing machine that doesn’t squeak. he really just does what he considers ‘husband duties’, things that he should have been doing this whole time.

and when you don’t budge on the separation, he goes nuclear, “no, love, i haven’t seen your birth control pills”, “look how cute this baby is, remember when ours was that small, sweetheart”, “you’re so stressed darling, let me help you” which basically means you end up getting rawdogged within an inch of your life, condom long forgotten, one of simons hands held over your mouth to muffle the sounds you’re making. he just hopes he’d tracked your cycle right, that you’re actually ovulating, because you can’t possible refuse his ring after having two of his babies right? you wouldn’t do that to him, would you pet?

[evesaintyves]

@thethreebroomsticksficfest is having a microfic celebration for Harry Potter's birthday... but as usual my fic isn't very micro. here you go anyway.

The Underside

Harry's eyes keep meeting Uncle Vernon's in the rearview mirror.  It's two days before his tenth birthday. They've only been driving for forty-five minutes and Dudley's already been sick twice. Harry's pretty sure his aunt and uncle think it's his fault, somehow, but he's not the one who piled Dudley's plate with a half-dozen fried eggs this morning.

Weird things have been happening around him, though. That's the only reason they've brought him along instead of locking him up—he'd prepared himself to spend the day sipping underbrewed tea and letting his eyes glaze over at thirty years of snapshots of Mrs. Figg's dead cats, but when his aunt marched him over this morning, the old woman never answered her door. One of her cats was in the front window, switching its tail to and fro as she knocked and knocked, as if to say, time's ticking, Petunia, you're going to be late—

So, after a whispered argument in the kitchen—no, that boy's not to be trusted, we'll come home to the whole place in flames—his uncle dragged him by the arm to the backseat of the car. Dudley's brought along so many road-snacks and toy dumptrucks that Harry only has half a seat to squeeze himself into, but it's sort of nice. He doesn't get many long rides. Past the rows of houses and the repeating grids of car parks there are farms like he's seen in storybooks, rumpled over the hills, ribbed like green corduroy with cabbages in rows. Cows kneel in the shade of trees. What a life it would be, Harry thinks, to wander all day in the grass of a field, bothered only by the odd horsefly. Eating his fill. Surrounded by friends.

—

While Vernon's at the convention, Petunia takes them to the pleasure pier. Dudley tries for one of the big prizes, a stuffed gorilla that looks rather like his dad, but his strategy is to hurl the ball with as much destructive force as possible and he's swiftly banned from the Coconut Shy. He does the same at the pingpong ball and fishbowls, whipping the ball like he's trying to murder a fish, and while Petunia is arguing with the teenaged game-operator, Harry boredly tosses one of Dudley's unused pingpongs. It plops right into the centre of a fishbowl, where a longfinned red-and-gold fish circles it and issues a surprised silver bubble from its puckering mouth.

Petunia's convinced Harry cheated (and he's not entirely sure, actually, that he didn't. He's had a lot of weird luck and near-misses, lately. Last week, Dudley tried to hit him with a water balloon and it bounced off Harry's chest, hit Dudley square in the crotch, and made it look like he'd wet his trousers) so Dudley gets the fish, of course. It's in a few inches of water inside a plastic bag. He swings it around violently as they walk through the arcade.

I'm sorry, Harry thinks at the fish. I didn't mean to make things worse for you.

At the beach, while Petunia is buttering Dudley with suncream, Harry walks into the chilly water until it's up to his chest. The swells lift him off his feet, a bit, and the sand feels warm when he scrunches his toes. When he stretches out his arms and legs to float on his back, it's like the sea is cradling him, holding him up, and after a moment the sensation is uncomfortable for some reason so he curls into a ball and sinks under the surface, pinching his nose.

It burns a little when he opens his eyes, but he's instantly stricken by how peaceful it is under there and he doesn't want to close them. Above his head, there's the sparkling tumult of the waves. Below, the sand moves slow, like it's sleepy. There are the legs of other swimmers, kicking, oblivious. There's a spiky little crab with an orange pill-bottle for a shell. There's a grumpy-looking grey-green fish with rippling fins, flat and creeping along the bottom like it's trying not to be noticed. Harry wishes he could do that. He's always drawing attention to himself, blurting out a sarky thought when he ought to have just kept quiet, having some lucky thing happen that makes Dudley wail and Vernon haul him by the collar across the house and into his cupboard. If only he could stay here, in this secret world underneath the waves, where no-one on the shore even knew he was there...

A cloud of minnows, moving as one, drifts like a shadow in front of his face. They all turn sideways and seem to look at him with their iridescent eyes. He looks back, wondering if he's disturbing them, his chest starting to prickle as he runs out of air.

Before he can push off the sand and come up, all the little minnows rush at him, stroking their cool bodies along his cheeks, wriggling through his hair. He shuts his eyes, but just as quickly they're gone. He turns to see the grey ghost of them vanishing into the blue distance.

Then a hand is in his hair, yanking, and he's swallowing salt, breaking the surface and blind in the afternoon sun.

"You can't drown today, you knob, Dad's got a very exclusive dinner with a client," Dudley shouts in his face. Harry sputters, there's water stinging in his nose, and on the shore he can see Aunt Petunia waving her sunhat at the two of them, stepping along the lacy hem of the water like she's afraid to let it touch her feet.

—

"The double-augur—that's the crown jewel of the Heavy-Duty line," Vernon is telling Petunia, but in the rearview his eyes are on Harry like he thinks he's up to something. Harry's skin still smells faintly of salt. Dudley's plopped his goldfish onto the pile of plastic dumptrucks like it's just another toy. Harry picks it up and peers into the plastic bag; it's hard to tell because the car is moving, but it looks like it might already be dead.

"Cheap ruddy fish," Dudley sulks. "Didn't even last 'til dinner."

"All cheats, those game operators," Vernon huffs.

"We'll get you a better fish tomorrow, Popkin," cooes Petunia. "A couple of fighting fish, maybe, wouldn't that be fun?"

"I'd do myself in too if I had to share a room with you," Harry mutters. The back of Vernon's neck goes purple, and he nearly crashes the car shouting at Harry, and Dudley pinches his arm hard enough to leave a bruise, but Harry finds he's not bothered. He closes his eyes as the cabbage-fields are crowded out by houses. There's a world out there, huge and hidden, full of colours he's only seen in dreams, full of creatures and beautiful tricks of the light, and he'll get back to it someday—he'll take a breath, he'll dive down into deep water, and he'll open his eyes—

image: paul klee

[obetrolncocktails]

Karma Sutra | Sammy Kiszka X Reader Part 2

Spotify playlist for Part 2 | Take a listen while you read--it is a combination of some oldies with some indie/alternative lovey-dovey tracks to get you in the mood :)

STOP! Have you read part one? If not, read it and circle back around!

warnings: heavy mention of alcohol and drugs, mention of serious injury, party culture, fluff fluff fluff fluff. Minors DNI, this series is an 18+ fic and will include smut.

Word Count: 4,000+

They say that low risk yields low reward. Maybe it's time for a change...

Your ears ring as you step into the house. Solo cups, beer bottles and cans line almost every open countertop. People have to scream at each other to be heard. “How are you not deaf?” You ask Sammy at your side. “What?” His eyes squint and his eyebrows furrow, looking down at you. Nevermind, I spoke too soon. Sam bends closer to you,  which suspends your breath immediately. You gulp. “I said, how are you not deaf with all this noise?” He grins, tracing his gaze from your eyes to your lips and back up again. “Honey, I am in a band–this is nothing.” He chuckles, running his fingers through his hair, shaking his head left and right.

You make your way through the house, weaving through a sea of drunken students. Entering the kitchen, there is an endless assortment of cheap liquor, wine and beer. “Now or never. White or brown?” Sam gestures to the bottles. “White–I’ll do some tequila.” He nods his head with enthusiasm, grinning as he pours two shots for you and himself. “That’s my girl!” Coming around the kitchen island, he hands you a miniature solo cup, exclaiming. “Cheers!” You decide to inquire. “What for?” He cocks an eye your way. “To new adventures, and no hangovers.” You smile, tapping your cup against his. “Cheers!” He easily knocks back the shot without expression. You pause and watch. “Y/N,” He points loosely at your full cup. “You’re supposed to drink it–that’s how alcohol works.” Rolling your eyes with a cheeky grin, you fire back. “Oh really? I had no idea!” You throw the shot back in an attempt to impress him. Your eyes water and your throat burns, but you steel yourself. You force your face to remain neutral. “Wow, I am impressed–a woman who can take her liquor.” Sam takes his plastic shot glass and aims for the trash can at the other side of the island, but misses. “Shit–let me see yours.” handing out your empty cup, his fingers brush against yours as he takes it from you. This time, he makes it directly in the can. Walking over, he bends and picks up the previous failed attempt, disposing of it as well.

“Ping pong?” You suddenly blurt, peering beyond the kitchen into the dining room which has been converted into a makeshift game room. “Yeah–you play?” you nod. “I do–well, I did. I kinda had an obsession with it freshman year of high school. My best friend had a pingpong table in her garage. We spent hours playing every day after school.” You turn to him with a shrug. “Let’s just say I’m a veteran.” He places his hands back in his pockets, leaning against the counter. “You couldn’t beat me, though. They call me Crazy Sam.” He bats his dark eyelashes in feigned innocence. You release a chuckle through your incredulity. “Very creative, did your mom come up with that?” He pushes himself off the counter toward you. “Say what you want sweetheart, but I am cutthroat–and a pretty girl is no exception for a worthy opponent.” he lifts your chin with a curled pointer finger, beckoning your eyes to meet his. Your cheeks flame. Tilting your head back down with determination, you respond. “You’re on, Jackass.” Sam reaches his hand out for you to take. “Loser buys lunch.” Your heart flurries. A date? Shaking his hand, you simply answer with a nod, “lunch.”

The room is crowded with people, many of which are cheering on the players at the table. “Aye, Sam!” Christian comes from around the table to embrace Sam. “Hey man, what’s the score?” Sam absently reaches up to stroke the stubble on his chin. You hear the repetitive din as ping pong balls and paddles collide, lulling you into dissociation as they converse.  “8-7, Close game,” Christian answers. “They are so crossfaded, I am surprised they are upright, let alone playing fucking ping-pong.” They laugh, watching the game progress. “You know Y/N, right?” Sam gestures to you and back at his friend. Christian smiles at you politely. “Friends with Paige Gilbert, right?” He asks. You nod kindly. “Yeah! We were roommates for a few years before I decided to move off campus. She’s my best friend.” A quiet moment passes before Sam cuts through the awkwardness. Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, he continues, “So, Y/N challenged me to a game of ping pong and I told her she has no chance of winning.” Christian nods and shakes his finger, pointing at sam. “He is an animal, he plays dirty–Good luck,” He raises his hand to his forehead in a salute. “Alright man, I’ma head out. Gotta be up at six for work.” Christian glances back at you before winking at Sam and leaving the room. What was that? Sam catches your confusion before breaking the silence, clearing his throat. The room suddenly erupts in cheers, catching both of you off-guard. “Fuck yeah!” Todd slams his paddle on the table before jumping up and down, knocking into other partygoers. “Better luck next time buddy,” Sam mentions to Ben, the unfortunate loser of the evening. Ben offers half of a smile to him before throwing a wadded up twenty on the table. “Don’t spend it on blow–” he retorts at Todd, making a display at wiping at his nose before chuckling. “Like you wouldn’t join me if I did.” The pair before parting ways, leaving the table open for another game.

“Well, Y/N, it’s been nice knowing you–prepare for annihilation. Red or blue?” Sam lifts both paddles for you to choose from. “Blue, and you know these paddles don’t just work for hitting ping pong balls, right,” you say, grabbing the paddle and slicing it across your throat in the classic “slitting throat” gesture, wearing a massive grin as you do so. You had to find a way to keep up with his cockiness somehow. “Wow, Y/N, threatening physical violence–that’s really cruel.” The flirting tosses your insides like a game of squash. It makes you feel desirable and sexy. “Alright, you two–first to ten wins the match. Heads or tails?” Ken asks Sam the question to start the game. “Tails.” With a quick flip of the thumb, the coin spins through the air and lands, revealing the winning face. “Tails.” “Opening serve goes to you, my man.” Ken Harding, the quarterback of the football team, has been serving as referee for the night, albeit, a bad one. Considering the lengths that players have gone to win tonight, you might as well call him an emcee. Sam serves the ball to you lightly, which you were appreciative of. You had no idea how the game was going to go–you hadn’t played in years. You smack the ball back on his side, moving your body with the trajectory of the ball. With a deft flick of the wrist, he slams the ball back to your side, bouncing it on the playing field. Before you can hit it back, it bounces behind the table, earning a deflated “Oh,” from the crowd surrounding the table. Your serve. Alright, Y/N, don’t fuck it up, you tell yourself. With quick agility, you fire the ball to Sam’s side, making him work for the point. The ball rallies back and forth, hitting your paddles in quick succession. Ah, now I remember. You start taking risks with your play. Timing your paddle, you slam the ball forward across your boundary and into Sam’s side, forcing him to jump backward in order to hit the ball. He misses and it springs into the net. “POINT!” Ken bellows, throwing a signifying arm in your direction. You throw up a fake gun, blowing the smoke from the barrel. “Very cute, I’ll give you that.” Sam spins his paddle in his hand, waiting for your serve. “What can I say? it comes naturally.” Sam nods in agreement, pointing the paddle at you. “You trying to beat me at my own game? I’m the one with the God complex, love.” Shaking your head, you serve the ball to him, catching him off guard. Impressing you, he catches the rhythm with a fast reflex, knocking it back to you, sending the ball rallying once more.

Just as you prepare, a collective gasp echoes throughout the house causing you to fumble your next return. Heads turn towards the front end of the house as the music shuts off, leaving our ears ringing. “What’s happening?” You ask Sam, who looks equally confused. He comes around the table, grasping your hand and squeezing. “I have no idea, but don’t go anywhere. I will be right back, Y/N.” You nod as you watch Sam wade through the crowd, finding the head of the frat. “Damien–Damien, what’s happening?” Sam approaches him through the crowd. “Someone had too much acid, tried to jump into the pool from the roof, fell on their head. Police and ambulances are on the way now.” Sam’s expression intensifies.

Thanking Damien, he rushes back through the panicked mass of people to find you. Taking your hand without taking a moment to explain, he pulls you out of the room and through the house toward the entrance. “Sam,” you attempt. He makes no attempt to stop or listen. “Sam! Where are we going? What is happening?” He storms through the crowd, shouting, “Move!” He elbows his way through the room, shoving people left and right as he pulls you along. Within a few moments, you both arrive on the diamond of grass outside. You rub at your sore wrist as he releases his grip from you. “What the fuck, Sam? What’s Happening?” He throws a comforting hand through his hair. “Someone got hurt –they just jumped off of the roof and landed on the pavement. They tripped on acid. From this house.” Sam points to the earth below you. “It’s not safe here. The police are on their way as we speak.” You gulp and nod, feeling your gut swell with adrenaline. “Did you drive?” You shake your head. “I got an Uber–I can order anot–” He cuts you off immediately. “No. Let me drive you home.” You attempt to protest. “Really, Sam. It’s no big deal. I’ll get home safe.” You try to fight the nagging feeling of wanting him to care for you, but you force yourself to believe that it’s all temporary, fleeting fun. A moment. “Y/N. Please. Let me.” He takes your hand with a tenderness that you had never seen from him. You nod reluctantly, squeezing his hand slightly. He offers a thin smile, bringing you close to him as you walk.

The night is frigid and you both find your lips chattering against the cold wind. Finding his car quickly, he jogs around to open your door for you. You can’t help but laugh as you lower yourself into the Tesla. “What’s so funny?” he asks, closing his door and powering on the vehicle. “Your nipples are probably hard as a rock and you still open my door for me?” He eyes you with a sly grin. “Mama didn’t raise a complete asshole.” Shaking your head, you answer. “Sam ‘Cocky’ Kiszka. That’s your reputation.” He places a hand behind your headrest, peering behind you to back out of the tight space. “A reputation doesn’t always accurately reflect someone’s character, Y/N. You should know that.” He emphasizes the word “you,” indicating that you should relate with the statement. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You snap back at him, turning your body towards him as he drives. “People think you are quiet. Inexperienced. sheltered.” His eyes find yours in short glances before turning his attention back to the road ahead. “But you’re fiery and opinionated. Strong. I like that.” Your cheeks are flaming red from feeling so exposed.

The silence in the car becomes overwhelming as you realize that no music is playing. Music was your comfort blanket; It was always there for you in times when you couldn’t find an avenue to express yourself. In many ways, there was unconditional love between the two of you. It never demanded more from you than it gave, and you could find exactly what you needed from it without judgment or concern. “What are you thinking about?” Sam cuts through the silence as he drives. You turn to him, debating on whether you should be honest. “Music.” You say, meeting his gaze. “Yeah? What about?” Shit. I am going to sound pathetic. “Just that silence feels strange. I never drive without music playing.” He smiles over the steering wheel as he approaches a red light. “Katy Perry? Ariana Grande? Oooh, Olivia Rodrigo?” You scoff and roll your eyes playfully. “I would rather let you pour molten steel into my ears.” He flashes you a toothy grin. “Ouch, sounds very painful.” He hands you his phone. “Let’s listen, then. Play something.” Suddenly, the hand of insecurity steals your smile. You didn’t share your music with others very often; you didn’t listen to popular music. You listened to what spoke to you.

“Don’t judge,” You say as you scroll through his Spotify account, typing in your account information through the search bar, finding your go-to playlist. You press the shuffle button, landing on Sam Cooke’s “Bring it On Home to Me.” You consider skipping it, but it was one of your favorites, so you decide to listen anyway. Looking up, you see Sam tapping the rhythm against the steering wheel, beginning the song. “If you ever change your mind, about leavin’, leaving me behind, oh bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin’, bring it on home to me.” He sings the words quietly with a warm smile, glancing over to meet your gaze. “Sam Cooke- one of my all-time favorites. How did you know?” His eyes are kind, easing your worry. “Growing up, my dad used to sing this song around the house on Saturday mornings when he would make breakfast for my family. It makes me feel closer to him.” You smile in remembrance of him using a mop pole as a makeshift microphone, swinging back and forth as bacon pops and sizzles in the pan. “Dad, you’re going to burn the bacon!” You shouted between giggles, watching the personal show from the breakfast nook at the back of the kitchen.

You suddenly ache for him, wishing for one more burnt piece of bacon and one more morning filled with his music. You notice Sam’s expression tying himself into knots, not sure what to say. “My dad passed 6 years ago–sudden heart attack.” His expression softens, reaching over to grab your hand softly as he drives. “I am sorry, Y/N. I had no idea.” You offer a light smile, shaking your head. “It’s okay–I don’t talk about it very often, so I listen to his music instead.” He nods, reaching up to flip his hair back–a habit of his that was becoming somewhat comforting to you. You let the song play out softly, the sound of the highway lulling the moment somewhat. “Can I show you something?” He asks, his glassy eyes meeting yours for an answer. The two of you had been driving aimlessly for a while, driving down the main strip of town away from school. “Of course.” John Denver’s “Annie’s song” begins to play softly. The melody that you knew so well always found its way to you, comforting you. “And Denver? Where have you been all of my life, Y/N?” Sam chuckles, swaying to the lilting melody. You chuckle as he asks. “Listening to good music, I guess. What can I say? I’m a rare individual, I’m different.” You spend time leaking sarcasm through your words. A grin too wide for your face spreads, causing your cheeks to cramp. Fuck-I could kiss her. She’s beautiful. Sam struggles to keep his eyes on the road, lost in his own thoughts. You can’t help but steal glances at his features, spending perhaps a bit too long admiring the softness of his pink lips. Street lamps slice beams through the windshield in natural rhythm as he drives. You press your head against your window, feeling the chill prickle your skin with goosebumps. Your eyes begin to loll closed as “Fire and Rain” starts to play.

A few minutes later, you feel Sam’s hand softly nudging you awake. “Hey sleepy head, we’re here.” You straighten in your seat, finding yourself in a dark parking lot. There are many darkened shops, all closed for the evening. “Sam, where are we?” He turns off the car’s ignition and turns to you in his seat. “You’ll see. Come on.” He finds his way back to your side, opening your door. “You’re not gonna murder me and leave me in a dumpster somewhere, are you?” In truth, you were a little concerned; there was virtually no light in this parking lot. “On the first night I really got to know you? Come on, I’d wait until at least the second date. I’m not a sleaze.” You snort, stepping out of the car and shutting the door. He holds out his hand for you to take. “You’re safe. I work here in exchange for practice time.” You have no idea what he is talking about, but you walk with him anyway, enjoying the way your fingers lace together so naturally. You make your way to a glass storefront. You try your best to look inside, but the darkness obscures what lies behind the glass. Sam disconnects his hand from yours to reach for his keys. Unlocking the door, he holds it open for you to enter, a collection of bells tinkling above your heads. His fingers fly upward to the lightswitch on the wall to his left. It is obvious he has memorized its placement because he doesn’t need to see it to find it.

You squint as the room blinds you with incandescent overhead lighting, revealing the contents of the store. Pianos. Dozens of them of all age, size and color. Sam tilts his head down, eyes fixed on yours as you take in the sight. “Welcome to possibly my favorite place on earth.” He pauses for a moment scanning the room. “My boss lets me use this place to practice as a trade off for pulling extra hours during the week.” You nod and take a few steps further into the room, its vastness spanning further and further. An immense record collection lines the walls, stacked within towering milk crates that seem to go on forever.  “When I need time away, I come here.” He points to a large mahogany Steinway & Sons piano, sitting in the middle of the room. “This one is my favorite to play. Made in 1914.” The piano was remarkable; it was the centerpiece of the store, beckoning musicians of all kinds to play. You enjoyed the way Sam spoke about his art, and though you had never heard him play, you were interested in any capacity. “Sam, this place is amazing. How do you not live here?” His cheeks blush slightly as he listens to you speak. “You’d be surprised. I am here more often than I am at home. I’m surprised there aren’t ass marks worn into that piano bench.” He takes your hand softly. “Come, let me see if I can pull something out of my ass.” You take his lead, approaching the piano before taking a seat beside him. “I’m sure anything you play will sound better than anything I could. I could do a kick ass rendition of “Mary Had A little Lamb,” though. I’m not sure you’re ready for that type of humbling, so I will refrain.” You can’t help but grin so large that your cheeks ache. Sammy places his hand on your thigh, leaning into you. “You could play anything for me and I’d still tell you that it was the best thing I had ever heard. His smile melts you like you had promised it wouldn’t, cracking at the guarded exterior that you wore so well. “Anyway, here’s a little something that I am working on.” You place your hands in your lap, preparing to listen.

Sam takes a moment to close his eyes, centering himself upon the keys. He begins to play,fingers fly across the keys. He is focused and diligent. You cannot help but feel hypnotized by his expression; he is lost within the music, possibly even forgetting that you are sitting next to him. The piano is his true lover; he treats each note with respect and dignity, caressing each key with care. His eyebrows rise and lower with the arch of the music, carrying him into the thin boundary between simply sitting at the piano beside you and hovering somewhere else, a place that transcends time, worry or circumstance. For reasons you couldn’t understand, a lump springs in your throat and your eyes begin to burn with overwhelming emotion. Get it together, what is wrong with you?

You had decided. You wanted him to see you in that way; to desire you, to want you the way he needed his music. You wanted him. His eyebrows furrow together and his mouth opens slightly. His features pull taut, his expression almost akin to an orgasm, which sends flames lapping upon your neck and cheeks. You avert your gaze, the embarrassment of your inner thoughts becoming far too loud for only you to be able to hear. His innate passion fills you with desire, clouding the simplicity of the moment; he was just playing a song. That’s all. Eventually, he opens his eyes softly, finishing the melody with a delicate flourish. Bringing his gaze to you, he can see the stupefied look plastered on your face. He brings his hands back to his lap. You can’t help but be taken aback by the honest moment that he has shared with you.“Um, that was something I guess.” He brings a hand up to fluff his hair, a mannerism you had become familiar with. Your eyes train on the plushness of your lips, struggling to meet his eyes with consistency. You are silent for a moment. “That was…so special, Sam. Really, Thank you.” He nods, smiling. “Y/N, when are you going to call me Sammy?” You pause, caught off guard by the question. “Well, you haven’t really given me a reason to.” You shrug casually as you respond, noticing as the smile on his face falls into something more contemplative and nervous.

His glassy eyes trace the blush of your lips, biting at the corners of his mouth before bringing his gaze back up to meet your eyes once again. The desire for each other was palpable, there were no words to speak. In the silence, only one question lingered; one that could only be answered by his touch. You are pulled together, answering the inevitable question. In a collision of frenzied senses, his lips skim yours with ponderous reluctance, a surprise to you. You nod slightly and dissolve into his kiss, your thoughts silently scattering the word “yes” over and over. Parting your lips, you let him wash over you completely. He tastes of tobacco and tequila; his hot breath swirls upon your skin, consuming you with desire. The roughness of his stubble rubs against your chin and cheeks, destined to leave proof of his touch. He brings you closer, his fingers guiding your chin up to his, beckoning for you to pursue him. Your heads curve in a languid dance, searching and finding the softness of lips each time. You unfurl yourself within the kiss, releasing all reluctance within the security of his embrace. Leaning further into him, you lace your arms around his neck, grabbing at his dark waves. He reciprocates without hesitance, pulling you into him. His hands make their way to your face, thumbs caressing the softness of your cheekbones. The silence of the room has transformed into the sound of swarming bees inside your head, obscuring your senses, leaving you able to only process the feeling of his touch, and the overwhelming sexual instinct blooming at your core. He seems to search for something within your kiss; a place to inhabit, a secret to know, a promise for more. He parts from the kiss leaving you feeling stunned and breathless. Bringing his forehead to rest against yours, still so close in the embrace, he whispers with a simple smile, “Hi, my name is Sammy. Nice to meet you.” He traces a thumb against the softness of your smile. “Well, Sammy. You’re a very good kisser.” Bending to kiss you once more, he seals the moment. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

End of Part 2.

If you would like to be added to my taglist, please send me a message or an ask and I will place you on it!

Taglist:

@theweightofstardust@thecoldwind@stardustdanny@stxverandle@weightofdreams-gvf@starchords@jthomaskiszka@mywaysooon@gretavanhoney@jakekiszska@sparrowofthedawn@gustingirl@cowboysamkiszka@fictional-duchess@gretagolden@bypeapod@aureummel@screechesincoherently@ageoftambourine@basically-hayley@gretavanfleas@strangeh0rizons@wriwrites@fosterkidwiththebrokenjaw @gvfvanfleet @jakekiszkasgiggle @katie-gvf @mgk777 @streamsofstardust @shellygvf @celestialfauna

[monsterfloofs]

Male Goblin (Olly) x Female Reader

(My first ever commissioned piece! Featuring a tall and shy main character with a goofy goblin love interest! ^-^ ) Oh! And you also get to catch a glimpse of the soft manticore that was in another short story I wrote. I hope you enjoy the story!) 

It was a quiet chilly morning, the sun's light a soft halo of embers on the horizon, leaves scuttled along the pavement from the slight breeze in the air. You try to stifle a yawn, your head bobbing sleepily as you are tugged along the street. “Easy Hellion--” You murmured to the big dog who trotted in front of you, the leash strained taunt as the hellhound pants with enthusiasm. You patted the big dog’s flank and shook your head. Of all the hellhounds you had ever seen in your life, your Hellion was the biggest and the dopiest. For one thing, he kept his mouth open wide in a crooked grin as his tongue lolled out of his mouth, tail wagging furiously. And when he saw a new person, lord help them, you would occasionally wonder if his frantic excitement to meet someone new would knock loose a few more brain cells to play pingpong in his noggin. 

You try to steer him towards the shops “Come on buddy, you know the drill, I need my cup of tea, and then we can go to the park--” At the word park Hellions amber eyes glowed, looking up at you with his ears perked, and his jowled closed in a crooked, slack jawed fashion, too much tongue still out of his mouth for him to close it properly. You laugh at his dopey expression and push your hips into him, taking a bit of coaxing to get him to turn towards the tea shop. The bell above the shop chiming softly as you step inside the cozy space. You wave and smile at the owner of the shop. Hellion stays back, meekly peeking around you, you look down and rub Hellion between the ears as you laugh. The owner of the shop was a manticore, and despite your hellhound being built like a tank, he would try his best to appear small and hide behind you when you would go into Asher’s shop. Though despite his best attempts to look meek, his tail would still wag hopefully.

“Good morning,” a soft voice hummed, “What kind of tea would you like today?” You gazed up at the sun streaked board, eyes flitting over the selection. “Mm. . . Maybe a chai tea latte today?” Asher’s round ears flick, as their golden eyes crinkle warmly, “That must be your new favorite, you’ve ordered it at least three days in a row now.”

You fluster and give a grin, “R-really? I hadn’t noticed. . .” You pout with embarrassment, letting your eyes wander the length of the store, rubbing the back of your neck, “You make the best chai tea okay? Those paws of yours are magic.” You hear a rumbly laugh in response. “If that’s how you feel, I won’t tease you then,” they reply, “You’re one of my favorite customers, it’s always so good to see you when you stop by. I’ll be back in a moment.” His large paws drop as his form sinks out of view. Your expression significantly brightens as you rock back on your heels, glowing with pride. 

You riffle through your pants pocket as you hear the whirr and hiss of steam. “Is business still slow?” You can feel your throat tighten nervously at the attempt of small talk. Asher’s sharp eyes glance back at you, “Actually. . . business has been picking up.” they smile to themself and you can feel your shoulders relaxing down as you give an inward sigh of relief. Conversations weren’t your forte, and you were glad you hadn’t asked an awkward question. “Oh good,” You mumble, “I’m so glad to hear that.” A paper cup is slid your way as Asher smiles at you, turning shy for just a moment, “I am even holding a class for tarot reading. . . there’s a flier on the wall if you would be interested. . .” You jump onto the proposal enthusiastically. “Y-yes?! Yes!! I most certainly would! Ahhh-- Asher! That’s so awesome, congratulations!” You grab your phone taking a quick snapshot of the flier on the wall. “I will definitely be there!” You pay for your coffee and leave with a smile, waving as you flit out the door. 

It was at this time that Hellion decided to make a break for it. You were distracted, and with one good enthusiastic tug Hellion’s leash snaps out of your hand. You squeak in surprise, before you look at him and he looks at you. That big lopsided dopey grin scrawling across his face before he makes a mad beeline towards the park, untethered, and ready to pounce on the next unsuspecting person he lays eyes on. You hand reaching down to snatch at the leash as it slithers from your grasp. “H-Hellion! C-come back you d-doofus!” You gasp as you barrel after him, attempting to juggle your sloshing cup of hot tea so it doesn’t spill.

You were just about ready to dig your own grave as you made it to the park, wheezing with a stitch in your side. You could see Hellion crouched and licking something with friendly excitement. You hoped it wasn’t a person, please let it be another dog or something. You pleaded to any higher power that would listen. Setting down your cup and rolling up your sleeves before struggling to heft the heavy pooch off the poor creature that he just about mauled with affection. “Oh jeeze I am so s--sorry!” The apology came out of your mouth before you could see what Hellion had been terrorizing with puppish affection. Only to go wide eyed at what lay before you.

There lying flat on their back was a goblin, their yellow eyes as round as saucers as they lay on their back, staring up at the sky.

“He’s not m-m-malicious or anything h-he just really likes p-people!” You splutter, as you pull Hellion further back, his tail whipping around like a propeller blade. “Oh jeeze, c-crap! Are you okay?”

The goblin’s turns their head to look over at your their expression flooding with relief, “Thank god, I thought I was about to drown in drool--”

You wince, your face wrinkles looking down at your dog. He instinctively sits down when you let him go, knowing he is in trouble, but he is too excited to behave properly, he wriggles and whines at you. “You big baby,” You tsk weakly. You shoot Hellion a dark look before you bend over to help the goblin to his feet. “A-again, I’m so sorry about that. . . He jerked free of his leash. . .”

The goblin gives a wobbly smile and shrugs, “Ey, ‘s no big deal.” He puts his hands in his pockets and shuffles his feet, “It’s a nice morning for a walk. Thought it would be a good idea to go myself, while the weather ‘s still decent.” 

You ruffle Hellion’s fur giving a weak smile, introducing yourself shyly, and cringing slightly at how your voice cracks from nerves. “Nice ta meetcha, the name’s Olly” They hold out their hand cheerfully, you feel guilty for having to bend over a little to shake their hand but Olly seems unaffected. He is surprisingly cheerful after being winded by the hellhound.

“You like to go to Asher’s tea shop too ey?” he comments, eyeing the cup by your feet and giving a little grin, you fiddle with a piece of unruly hair and smile. “Y-yeah, I like it there a lot. It has a nice atmosphere, and the owner is really nice.” 

“I hope it stays around,” He chirps, “Jus’ like little shops like that to go outta business.” You give a small frown, “I don’t know. . . from what I’ve heard the tea shop has been doing really well.” Olly leans over to pick up your cup, flashing a friendly grin as he holds it up to you. That is. . . before Hellion licks his face and he fumbles with the cup. “Hellion!” Your voice raises angrily as Hellion scrunches back and pretends to look ashamed. “I-I-- I-I’m s-s-” You could feel as if your whole body had been set on fire from embarrassment. Praying that you could just disappear, or just, sink into the ground. Olly wipes his face with his sleeve, squinting at the dog before his gaze travels down to the cup on the ground, the contents of it seeping into the grass. Olly eyebrows knit together, his lips forming a hard line. “D-dammit I’m real sorry. . . L-lemme make it up to ya. I’ll buy you another.”

You looked traumatized, “W-what?! N-no! M-my dog j-just about killed you-- you’re not-- n-no way!” 

You had been so embarrassed you excused yourself as quickly as you could, pulling Hellion out of the park. You felt horrible and unable to find a way to fix the situation, your anxiety demanding that you run with your tail between your legs. Only when you had gotten away from the park did you let yourself breathe easily. Your hands folded over your stomach. “That couldn’t have gone worse,” You said to yourself shakily. “I’m so sorry little guy,” you ran the scenario back in your head, cringing. You felt the goblin would absolutely have nothing to do with you, after you had so thoroughly embarrassed him.

It was a few weeks later before you would see Olly again, though there was an anxious part of you that had been secretly hoping to never see them again. “No dog today, uh?” A cheery voice quipped, you look up from your seat at Asher’s tea shop and just about jumped out of your skin. Seeing the chalky mint skin and bright yellow eyes staring up at you. Your posture immediately straightened and a guilty look crossed over your features. “N-n-n--” You tried to choke out the word but Olly only smiled and set down a cup. “I promised ya, I’d get you a new cuppa whatever! You like chai yeh? I think that’s what it was. If it’s not I can gettchat something else.” Your gaze traveled down, blinking. “B-but,” You whispered nervously, Olly shook his head, scrunching up his face. “Neh, don’t worry about it! It really wasn’t a big deal! If that’s the worst thing that happened to me, that’s one helluva good week for me!” He rested his clawed hand under his chin, propping his elbow on the table and giving a goofy smile. “I’m not bothered a bit!” You uncoil a bit, letting your shoulders sink as you give an awkward smile. “T-then. . . Ah. . . c-can I get you anything?” 

“Mm? Oh no! I still got my drink over there!” He jerks his thumb to a table at the side of the shop, “But uh. . .” His mouth wobbles a bit, “I. . . wouldn’t mind if ya wanted to meet another time.” His eyes dart around as his pallid face turns pink, “Th-that is- I wouldn’t want to bother you or--” 

The air is still for a moment as the two of you fluster silently. “Th-that would be n-nice. . .” You murmured shyly.

The first time the two of you had met it had been a little awkward at the beginning, but that slowly dissolved the longer the two of you talked. When it was time to go. . . you left the shop and breathed deeply before giving a little smile.

“He absolutely likes you.” You rub your cheek and pout, your knees curled up on the couch, cell phone in hand as you hug a pillow. “He’s nice but I don’t think it’s anything like that--”

You friend huffs and puffs on the other end, “Oh come on hun! You’ve been meeting this guy at Asher’s for w e e k s! It’s obvious you two like each other! I am so tired of just watching you two flirt and give gaga eyes at each other! Just ask him out already!” Your pout deepens as you sink more into the pillow you’re holding. “I don’t flirt. . . or do. . . whatever you said.”

You hang up the call scowling, your cheeks feeling unusually warm. You sigh and lean back onto the arm of the couch. Looking down you see Hellion's big head pop into view as he rests his head on the couch. His eyebrows raise as he lets out a big growly sigh. “I’m not flirting,” you told Hellion, “He’s just a friend. A nice friend, someone that is easy to talk to. . . Maybe I do like him, a little. But I am definitely not flirting. I don’t even know how to flirt!” Hellion’s eyes stare at you and then shift awkwardly, and you snort at his expression. “You’re no help. . .” 

You swing your legs off the couch and pat your hip, ignoring the fluttering feeling that emanated from inside your chest. “Come on Helly, let’s go for a walk.” 

Hellion barked and whined as you got his leash, he wriggled and whimpered as you linked it to his collar, but you barely noticed the cacophony of noise coming from the excited beast. Your thoughts were on Olly, and your friend on the phone. There were little things that had happened in the week, little things that you hadn’t thought much of until now. The way your heart pounded, the way he would look at you and his eyes would crinkle up. It was such an affectionate expression when he would look at you. The day your hands had accidentally brushed against each other and his whole pallid expression had turned crimson. You had glossed over those signs, laughing or shying away and apologizing. Not putting the pieces together until your friend had pointed it out to you on the phone. You shrug on a jacket and drag a hand through your hair, opening the door so Hellion can bound outside. 

[ryvgvji]

Can you do the banning sex for 3 weeks thing with haikyuu characters tendou and anyone else🥰 please and thank you if you actually do it

yessir! i can! hope you enjoy

(apologies for any grammar errors. and sorry if this is sloppy. and the late answer 😅 <3)

✰ characters: Tendou Satori, Kuroo Tetsuro, Sawamura Daichi, Oikawa Tooru

✰ their reaction to being banned from sex for three weeks

Tendou Satori

Tendou, Tendou, Tendou

he probably, mostly likely end up in the situation because he thought it would be a good idea to play a prank on you

he thought the prank was harmless but you were ready to go to jail

you had went out for the day with your friends to get dolled up by them as a treat

they brought you to get hair, nails and makeup done. they even bought you some new clothes

now for you to come home and walk through your front door, you weren’t expecting to have water get dumped on your head

mouth agape you saw your red hair boyfriend peeping around the corner with his hand over his mouth doubled over laughing 

“what the actual fuck Tendou!!” you yelled at your boyfriend who was still laughing. your hair that you had just gotten done was now wet and so was your clothes as well as the bag of more clothes in your hands. not to mention the water was freezing cold. oh how you wanted to beat the living shit out of him. 

you placed the soaked bags down on the ground taking off your shoes placing on the shoe rack. you walk in the direction of your boyfriend who watched you as he wiped the tear from his eye. walking straight past him you shoved his arm that he tried to touch you with, continuing on your journey to the bathroom. once you got to the bathroom, you started striping from your clothes. as turn around you see Tendou leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pockets eyeing you up and down. as he reached out to touch you, you slapped his hand away. “don’t touch me.” you said sternly. “come on beautiful, don’t be like that please.” he whine. his reaches out again, wrapping his arms around you nuzzling his face in your neck.

you sighed unraveling his arms from around your waist. “no Tendou, i’m still mad at you. you got my clothes and hair wet. you don’t do that shit bruh.” you shake your head. “beautiful it was prank i’m sorry.” he sighed. you shrugged, “i don’t care. because of you little prank, you just earned yourself no sex.” you said nonchalant. you heard him choke. “what?” “yeah no sex, for three weeks.” he pouted. “babe, you know that i won’t last.” you sarcastically gasped at him. “oh no, what every shall we do.” you rolled your eyes. “that sounds like a you problem.” you laughed. you pushed him out the bathroom getting ready to shower. “bye~”

as the weeks went by, Tendou could feel himself slowly dying. with you constantly walking around the house in teasing wardrobes, you were making it very hard for him to function properly. he would would try and touch sometime while your not looking but you’d always catch him somehow. now that it was the final day of his punishment he decided that we was gonna make it up to you by taking you out on a nice, lovely date before bring you back home and having his way with you. once back in the comfort of your shared house, he dashes to the bedroom with you in his arms. “let me treat you right tonight beautiful.” 

Kuroo Tetsuro

let’s just say the when it comes to being a tease, Kuroo is your guy

you and him went out to a restaurant

the whole night Kuroo has been eyeing you like a predator would with their prey  

he coots his chair closer to you resting his hand atop of your thigh

just then the waiter comes to serve you 

he would trace circles over your skin, moving further and further up until he got to his most prized possession

he’d slyly massage you through the fabric of the clothing you were wearing as you spoke to the waiter, breathing a bit heavy

you accidentally out a moan when he slid your panties to the side dipping a finger inside of you. this made the waiter look at you with a confused expression

“i cant believe you did that.” you hissed at your boyfriend in the car. he had embarrassed you in front of the waiter that served you two at the restaurant. now your all hot and flustered and it’s all because of that handsome devil of a man that was seated in the drivers seat with his hand laid on your thigh. oh, two can definitely play that game.

when you two finally arrived at the house you waste no time on pushing over to the couch. you straddle his waist taking off the shirt that he wore along with your own before placing a heated kiss to his lips. his hands found themselves on your ass giving it light squeezes. pulling away, you reach up and undo your bra taking it off and throwing it somewhere. “damn..” he breathes out. you lean in sucking lightly on his neck, grazing your teeth over his pulse. he makes a low groan pulling you plush against him. you reach behind you for his hands as you whisper in his ear, “because you teased me at the restaurant, now you suffer babe.” you look him in the eyes. “no sex for three weeks.” you pecked his lips getting off his lap, picking up your clothes and walking away.

for the next week, Kuroo was losing his mind. he craved for you, all of you. he wanted to touch you, make love with you, show you who you belong to and that you were only his. and with your personality, you weren’t making it any easier. it killed him everytime you’d walk by and tease him by swaying your hips or make suggestive remarks. he was about to risk it all. as the last day of his punishment came to an end, once he got home from work he took a shower and immediately went to the bedroom to see you. although you were sleeping, that didn’t stop him. he would kiss up and down your body leaving love bites in his wake as well until you woke up. “your up. i think it’s time for you punishment now, gorgeous.”

Daichi Sawamura

you and Daichi were invite to a party that was being held by a close friend

at the party many games and drinks were being done

you’ve done everything from taking a shot to body shots with Daichi

to close down the night, the last game you played was beer pingpong

it was you against Daichi , and to make it more interesting you made a bet

“if i win this, i have something in mind for you.” you smirked picking up your last ball. Daichi smiles and crossed his arm, “what if you don’t?” “then i do whatever you want baby.” you say as you spoke a seductive tone towards your boyfriend.

aiming for the last cup on Daichi’s sides, you threw a ping pong ball. it bounced off the table into the cup. you wooed as everybody clapped and cheered. walking over to opposite side of the table where Daichi was, you wrapped your arms around his neck placed a light kiss to his lips. “prepare yourself baby,” you leaned in to whisper “no sex for three weeks.” you could have sworn that you could feel Daichi’s body tense up. you just smile before walking away from him.

as days went by, everything was fine. Daichi was really just chillin’, he wasn’t really fazed by it. he didn’t really care much for sex but there were times were he wanted to just pick you up and go to the bedroom. he had to keep his composure. after the second week, that’s when he started to yearn for you. he wouldn’t say anything to you but you could tell. so you teased him. in any possible way that you could think of. on the final day of this bet, Daichi seemed calm, chill if you would say. once night hits, he goes absolutely feral. he wants what’s his and he’s gonna have it. he will take care of you. “are you ready bambi?”

Oikawa Tooru

Oikawa having a flirtatious personality wasn’t a problem for you

BUT!

if it wasn’t direct towards you , you were ready to fight

at one of his volleyball games a group of girls came up to him saying how hot he was and how they would love to take him on a date

this of course got you a bit upset but you know your boyfriend wouldn’t do that to you

oh boy were you wrong

he had the audacity to flirt back and say “i would love to go on a date” and wink at them

you immediately walked over to them and dragged oikawa by his ear away from the girls

“are you dumb?” you questioned Oikawa. he was kinda taken back from the way you said it. he clutched his chest and looked at you with a supposed hurt expression. “well that isn’t a very nice way to talk to your boyfriend.” was this boy for real? you could almost fuck the boy up right now. “nice my ass.” you rolled your eyes and kissed your teeth. he chuckled. “your very funny y/n-chan and that’s why i love you.” he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his lap. “you are fucking amazing lil cutie.” he leaned in and attempted to kiss you but before he could you put your hands to his lips. “nope,” you started. “since you wanna be flirting, you could go talk to wanna your hoes. cause i ain’t with it.” you got off his lap. “oh and before i forget, no sex for you for three weeks.” you say as you walk away somewhere in the house

Oikawa had no idea what to do. this was the first time that you’ve ever put him on punishment, well let’s real here, there has been a couple of times that you punished him before, but never like this. it’s never been this extreme. this was driving him mad. honestly, he has just been a horny bastard the entire time and he just could not keep his hands to himself. slapping your ass, kissing your neck, anything to get you to give in and let him have his way with you. but your not that easy. as the last day of punishment rolls around, he doesn’t wait. he can’t wait. immediately, your woken from your sleep by the feeling of someone kissing on your inner thighs. when you look down your greeted by dark brown eyes looking up at you. “now, now, i’ve been waiting, if not very patiently. so i believe that i earned myself a reward. so come here, you lil cutie.”

[filipinoizukuu]

Pls share about the Gospel of Judas 👀

, im SO glad someone asked because this topic is nigh always pingponging around in my head and the fact i get to ramble about it means the WORLD to me. TW ahead for canon-typical violence, gore, and other such discussions of all that fun heretical stuff!

 Now, to preface this, I just wanted to say that I’m not a licensed professional in anything related to theology nor religion nor historical artifacts. I am. as we all are deep down inside, a simple teenager with ridiculous hyper-fixations and a vast ocean of random information that will not be of any importance to my career or home life whatsoever. Easily, many of the things I talk about could either be wrong or debunked, but I will try my best to explain the Book of Judas as I understood it.

Among the many books that make up what we know as the Bible today, there were various seemingly ‘missing perspectives’ and inconsistencies that existed between gospels. One of the reasons for this was the fact that the Bible in and of itself was a compiled work that was originally recorded years after the oral tradition had passed. What is or isn’t ‘canon’ often depended on the rulings of past Popes who worked with historians to determine the authenticity of ancient artifacts that either proved or contested the canonical teachings of the Bible--one of the more popular debunked samples being The Shroud of Turin, which while being ruled as a fake by Pope Clement the VII a long time ago, still has its authenticity being debated until today.

It’s important to remember that the canon status of ancient artifacts. while somewhat reliant on Papal confirmation, can sometimes be contested and interpreted to each individual’s discretion.

And among all of these artifacts, there is my favorite one of all--The Book of Judas. Now, factually speaking, the Gospel of Judas was written in (somewhere between 2 to) 5 A.D., not actually that farfetched considering that only in 1 A.D. was the first version of the Bible we know today written. It was found somewhere in Ancient Egypt but was declared as fiction at some point in 180 A.D. by St. Iranaeus of Lyon. To understand the impact that The Book of Judas would have on the Bible (which, to put it simply, was revolutionary), you’d first have to have a quick review and understanding of who Judas Iscariot was in the gospels that we know today. 

Judas was a disciple.

He was one of the 12 disciples that were closest to Jesus and a disciple that most accounts of the story would say actually truly deeply loved him at some point. Judas was, as all memes about Christianity are fond of reminding, also the traitor that eventually chose money and greed over his love for God’s son and turned him in with a kiss in a garden that led to Jesus Christ’s death at the cross.

That is until you read the translations of the Book of Judas.

In the original books--whether it was because he was possessed by the Devil or simply a man who had fallen into greed--Judas was portrayed to be a sinner and a horrible traitor. After his betrayal and Jesus’ eventual death, Judas had then become guilt-ridden and anguished, choosing to end his own life in the Gospel of Matthew and even tarnishing a field with his blood and sins according to St. Luke in Acts. 

The Book of Judas, however, CHALLENGES these motives. Instead, it takes what brought all past Christian texts together by changing the portrayal of Judas on its head and putting the previous ‘traitor’ under the light of something else entirely.

According to the Book of Judas, Jesus had asked Judas to betray him.

The 26-page manuscript was a brief retelling of the dynamics we were lead to believe in the story told by the main four books. In the Book of Judas, we were told that the original other 12 disciples were actually quite... foolish. They were described to be sort of arrogant and clueless, constantly misinterpreting and forgetting Jesus’ words because while he was teaching them to be better and to spread the words of God, the disciples were still, at their core, human sinners. The manuscript was believed to have reported that of the disciples that were closest, or at least best tolerated by Jesus--Judas was by far the most understanding of His words.

Judas, in accordance with his book, was the only one who could understand the significance and cryptic lessons behind Jesus’ teachings. Because of this, Jesus knew he was the only capable one to serve him in what was to come.

You see, part of the prophecy was that Jesus had to die. He had to suffer and fall for humanity’s sake so that we would be able to be forgiven. As much as it sucks to even think about it, Jesus had come to expect that someone would need to cause his death and hurt him all so that he could fulfill his purpose.

In the end, he thought that death by the hand of an enemy was far worse than a death at the hands of a friend.

During the Last Supper, Jesus approached Judas and placed him into a vision. He placed Judas in a fantastical, wonderful dream where Judas sat facing the house of heaven and saw Jesus. Jesus, who looked at his beloved friend and said: “you will exceed all of them. For you will sacrifice the man that clothes me.” Judas will exceed all of them. And he will sacrifice the man that clothed Jesus.

In this interpretation, Judas was essentially told that he was the one who would finally free Jesus from his physical form. Judas, the supposed traitor disciple, would be the one to fulfill Jesus’ prophecy and thus sacrificed his beloved friend to bring about forgiveness for humanity.

And he understands.

In this manuscript, Judas Iscariot understands the will of God and what he has to do. He understands the weight of his betrayal and what he has to do in order to obey Jesus--so then it isn’t money or fear or anger or evil that motivates him to surrender Jesus to the soldiers but utter obedience and adoration for the Son of God. Judas gives his ‘yes’, knowing that for years and years he will be slandered and labeled as a traitor but at his core, Judas knows that it was not a betrayal to begin with.

So he led the soldiers to Jesus in the garden. He kissed him and let him be taken away and let him die.

-

This was the official translation approved by BBC and National Geographic according to the original translations done by Stephen Emmel, a Coptic studies professional.

Later on, this interpretation would be challenged by Dr. April DeConick, who claims that the mistreatment and mistranslation of the paper actually told the complete opposite, in the way that the revelation in the Last Supper was not created by Jesus but, in fact, by Judas, who had revealed himself to be the 13th demon of hell. This interpretation, while less popular, served as a direct challenge to the recharacterization BBC and NatGeo had approved of. I don’t really know too much about this debate, but I do know that this second interpretation does exist.

Of course, the original Judas text itself is currently impossible to truly translate to be sure. It was torn and shuffled, put into a freezer, and possibly even missing a few pages (which you can blame Bruce Ferinni for), ultimately making the authentic manuscript really difficult to properly restore.

The takeaway from this whole Book though--whether you accept it as canon or not--is that there were many interpretations and beliefs early Christians and Gnostics had that the time that criticized the way the four main gospels had passed down God’s teachings. People believed what they thought supported their own beliefs and at the end of the day. it's all still just a matter of who we choose to credit.

The real author to the Book of Judas remains anonymous to this day, but I am very glad to have been able to share this with you all :) 

not proofread since i did this at like 4 am    |    x   x   x

[elytrafemme]

hey i found your tubbo poem through that one fanart someone made of it and the quote “polaris could not take you to new lmanberg / it’ll only take me to him” is pingponging around my head rent free all hours of the day may i have a penny for your thoughts (on the poem in general)

hi! god that fanart is so gorgeous isn't it i love it so fucking much

in terms of my thoughts on the poem, hm. i think one kinda neat bit of info about it is the format of the poem is actually taken from a poem i've written about myself! unfortunately due to the subject matter of the original poem i don't think it's a wise decision to share it with anyone, but the whole iteration of ages in particular with it being in all caps + the indentation parts were taken from that!

i remember a long time ago in another piece of fanfiction actually, for a different fandom though and i cannot recall the name of it, someone had written about the sirius star cluster and there having been three stars, actually, A B and C. i tried to look more into it because that stuck with me for whatever reason and couldn't find a lot of defining information about sirirus C, but i did find a lot about A & B, and that's what ultimately led me to writing about them in the poem.

i also just have a lot of thoughts about the concept of stars and how there are a few different paths a star can take through its life cycle, which i write about a lot in places in that poem but also just in general. it's one of my go to metaphors you could say.

i wanted to switch up the writing style whenever c!tubbo 'felt' like he had to speak more formally and everything! because yknow being a president has its expectations so i tried my best to show that as well as i could, i just think it's kind of interesting to explore.

fun fact i did not realize that the chess references actually alluded to hitting on 16 (with c!ranboo 'castling') but now that i think about it that's actually really neat, i had just written it because it felt in line with his character but i suppose i had been correct with that!

in retrospect, i would have ended the poem with the line "& polaris could not take you to New L'Manberg / it could only take you to him" but i am not particularly good with ending or starting poems, mine tend to get stronger in the thick of it.

i have a lot of thoughts on this poem HAHA its very near and dear to me, but i hope this was well worth your penny :]

[dayurno]

ANJO YOURE SO SMART YOUR ALLISON POST IS SO AWESOME!!!!!! we’re just passing the braincell back and forth like a pingpong ball with the sole thought of allison reynolds

anyways. do you think allison would wear wigs? i 100% think she’d be playing around with huge colorful wigs both in and out of drag but i want your thoughts too

OKAY SOOOOOO yes and no. listen. okay

i am a big fan of wigs as you may notice by how much i think about hair and i spend about 2 hours of my day watching people install lace fronts for fun. i think wigs are the best and i want allison to have a 30 inch wavy brazilian so bad it makes me look STUPID!

however i dont think shed wear wigs in drag!!!! and that is because i raise u the thought of allison with an undercut. she likes to have her dragsona keep the long hair but she ties it up more often than not so she can do fun designs on the shaved part with temporary hair dye / colorful hairspray. if she did wear wigs in drag though i think they'd be purposefully fucked with an uneven/trashy haircut to keep the botchered feminity of being a drag king intact. i think allison's kingsona would be just inherently everything a man should be but done very very badly

BUT!!! out of drag. YES. 100%. i like the idea of dan wearing sew-in wigs sometimes if she wants to treat herself or grow out her hair with protective hairstyles, but allison — allison wears wigs all the time. there is something way too fun and fluid about being able to change your hair every week and i like to think she's more avant-garde than anyone ever gives her credit for, so allison switches wigs every 3 business days for fun. moreso i think her dorm is full of wig stands that look way too much like actual human heads so neil has been caught talking with one of the stands thinking they are allison more than once

to conclude my spiel i want to say that allison in a black bobcut wig, pinup bangs and red lipstick makes mrs. walker avoid her for a week straight out of sheer unbrided horniness

[adamarks]

For the ask game, this passage from the lover walks away in the night- From “I’m a rock; I can’t play anything” to “it’s time to finish Baz.” Thanks!!!💕💕💕

Wow, look at this reasonably sized passage for me to put dvd commentary on. Very sexy of you to not ask me to clog up ppls dashes with an entire fic, Anon.

Read The Lover Walks Away In The Night here on ao3

I’m a rock; I can’t play anything.

As you probs know, bri n I wrote this fic as a back and forth pingpong thing. The whole thing underwent very light editing and was really just a project for the two of us. Our sleep schedules were ass backwards so we’d get to wake up everyday like “what did that lil fucker write. How much r they gonna hurt me.” It was probably one of my favorite fic writing experiences ever.

So, for this line, I think I double checked with them to like. Make sure that was also where they were wanting the story to go. I remember that I wanted this scene to feel like a sort of turning point in both Baz and the audience’s eyes I guess. Bc before this Baz didn’t know that Simon thought of him as a real autonomous being. And it had been implied but not 100% obvious to the audience, I feel, that Simon really just wanted Baz to have freedom and be his own person. Like.... it wasn’t about sex. Even the sex wasnt about sex. It’s “I want you in every way. I want you in any capacity you have to give.”

I stare at the side of his face and toss my book somewhere. I hear it hit something, but I don’t care.

I was really proud of this bit. Made myself giggle.

“Baz,” I say it out loud. Just because I know what he’s thinking doesn’t mean he knows what I’m thinking. “Baz, I—“

It’s about the communication.

What do I say? He is a rock. He’s not just a rock. He—

He’s my sexy rock boyfriend!!! 😫

He—

Y’know while I have u here, I actually had this whole thing planned in my head where The Mage was actually a mob boss and like Simon inherited a shit ton of money from him so he was just this independently wealthy art rat in the 40s fucking a rock. I’m glad this didnt make it in but there u go.

“Next time let’s be birds. We can go wherever we want, then.”

I put this line in specifically to hurt bri. It’s a line for bri. All other casualties of this line are coincidental collateral damage.

I kiss his jaw and turn around so I’m holding him, the best that I can.

I just wanted this bitch face to hold this stupid statue so fucking bad.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. For everything. For the things I can’t give. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

“For the things I can’t give” and then literally he just needs to give him a kiss lmfaoooo. Nah but fr Simon maybe consider that ur enough as is.

I’d give everything I have so you could go where you want and do what you want. It doesn’t matter if I’m with you or not.

The point, u guys, is genuinely wishing for someone else’s happiness, whether you can share in that happiness or not.

-

It’s time to finish Baz.

I think here actually bri was like “yo we gotta move this along” the day before. So like. We be moving shit along. Also this was the perfect time to keep trucking bc. Even tho he only has that subconscious mental link, he realizes that need for ANY autonomy. Like consent in a story that doesn’t leave room for much consent, like Pygmalion, was very important to me. Like I wanted it to be obvious that even if Simon doubted himself, in the moment he, we, and Baz knew he had permission to be getting up to his antics.

[blackroseraven]

Today was a muck day.

So I decided to give Daydreamer and Rutabaga a chance to say hello again. They actually ended up chewing on each other’s faces and playing briefly before Daydreamer lost his manners and attempted to climb on top of Rudy. Not even like. Mount him, just. Climb on top of him.

I also took Dazzle and Dakota out and. Dazzle just. Refused to go in the pen even after I closed the gate pointedly behind her. Andre, on the other hand, just about dragged me into his paddock, then when I was trying to chain it shut, he chomped on my head, covering me in drool and yanking my hat off.

So we had a horse named Fancy that was staying inside, too. Obviously not normal Fancy, who is probably worth like 500 bucks, but an expensive horse named Fancy who the owners want to sell for upwards of 25K. Except they found she has a broken splint bone, which is a little bone on the inside of her leg.

It’s actually probably an old injury but it wasn’t found before now so they’re blaming the barn for it, which is admittedly dumb and understandably frustrating. They put her on stall rest but. Fancy was incredibly unhappy being stuck inside and like. Fell face-first into the wall twice in her bucking and panic to go out.

Finally Teacherlady walked her around for a bit and put one of the baby ponies beside her, which helped. I also ended up letting the Pasos in across from her and to my surprise it really seemed to help a lot, too. But I guess it helped her feel a lot less alone and she calmed right down, which was nice.

So. Exciting day today.

Mucking was actually pretty decent: they’re getting a new type of bedding delivered that’s like. Much finer. So it’s easier to pick through and we’re in the process of figuring out how much we need to actually use. 

I know. Poop bedding talk. But hey, it’s important to my. Sort of job.

It was quick and easy, though. I was a little cranky for part of it, but. Mucking is a good way to sort through your emotions, believe it or not.

Yara didn’t try to climb in the wheelbarrow, but. She did spend a lot of time chewing on me. She’s such a friendly little baby horse, though. I feel bad her owner has so much trouble with her.

Once we were done, I got Jaeger and spent a while grooming him and cleaning him. Chopped some excess frog off his hooves, too before I put the green stuff on. 

Then I grabbed Quattro. I started grooming him, and uh. A lady came in to get Fancy. I kind of sidled out of the way and Fancy was replaced with another mare and then they were gone in like. Five minutes, tops.

So I groomed Quattro quick before deciding to go up to the arena. Pony club was still going, but other people were riding up there too - including Teacherlady’s oldest kid on Kabuffnick - and they were setting up some jumps, so I figured it would be fine.

I was uh. Not entirely correct. Quattro got spooked in a corner, nearly ran into Buff, pingponged into a barrel, got spooked by Buff rearing at him, then almost ran straight into another barrel and finally did a death circle and flung me off. I landed on my back-ass. Of course when like a dozen people were watching.

I grabbed Quattro and got back on and resumed cantering, and he was perfectly fine for the rest of the time. We cantered both ways and did some light exercises and he was actually pretty well behaved.

But once I let him out of the arena he was just like “nope nope nope” and ran out the gate and hurried back to try and go outside. But he was barely sweaty so I ended up just letting him out. He’s such a pain in the ass sometimes, but. I do like his personality, for better or worse.

I checked out the new horse, too. The new horse uh. Has no name. It’s a rescue from a kill pen; the owner’s had her for about three months. She apparently buys four rescues every month, quarantines them all for a month to fix them up, and then she turns around and sells them for enough to roughly break even. I mean. It’s savvy, and nice, even if I wouldn’t say it’s charity, either.

Nameless has been around for three months, give or take, though: she’s not really putting on weight or anything. She seems broke to ride, but I get the feeling she has some other issues, because she’s a really pretty mare and she seems very docile, so I can’t imagine selling her would have been exactly hard. I’m sure I’ll find it, though.

So yeah. Interesting day today. Glad I got so much done, too, because tomorrow’s going to kind of be a rush. So gotta make the most of the time we have, where we can.

[roselukes]

Summer Dream - Chapter 19

Previous Chapters

In the morning, Aspen woke up to the sound of horses neighing. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. She looked down at Michael’s sleeping form next to her before shaking him gently. “Mike, wake up.” Aspen said, shaking him.

“Mm, five more minutes.” Michael mumbled, pulling her tightly against his chest. She groaned a little and kicked his shin.

“Mike, wake up. We need to get back to camp.” Aspen said, getting off the bale.

“Is the storm passed?” Michael asked, stretching his arms above his head as a yawn escaped his lips.

“Yeah, it’s only sprinkling now.” Aspen said, looking out the small window. “Get dressed so we can find a way back.” Michael nodded and got up. He grabbed his clothes and pulled them on.

“My clothes are still wet.” Michael sighed, wrapping the blanket around his clothed self.

“You’ll be fine. You can change when we get back.” Aspen said, walking out into the light rain. Michael held her hand as they walked toward the river. “We can swim across. It doesn’t look like the current is strong today.”

“A-are you sure it’s safe? The current is unpredictable.” Michael said, looking down at Aspen.

“We’ll be fine, Mike. We can make it.” Aspen said, letting go of his hand. She walked to the edge of the river and jumped in.

“Aspen!” Michael said, waiting to see her come to the surface. It took longer than he wanted, and his heart was racing. She finally surfaced and Michael let out a breath of relief.

“Come on, get in.” Aspen called to him. “The current is weak.” Michael chewed on his lip as he debated it. Finally, he jumped in. The cold water embraced him and he came up, coughing slightly.

“You didn’t tell me it was this cold.” Michael said as they started swimming downstream.

“You wouldn’t have gotten in, if I told you that.” Aspen said, pulling herself up onto the rocky dam. Michael followed, shivering as he left the water. “Now, let’s go get some warm clothes on and then we can go to breakfast.” Michael nodded, holding her hand as they walked back to camp. They went their separate ways at their cabins, but met again when they had changed into dry clothes.

“I hope we don’t get sick from being wet.” Michael sighed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they headed to the mess hall. They walked in, and all eyes were on them.

“Oh, my God. They’re alive.” Rian chuckled. “They survived.”

“Yes, and we’re starving.” Aspen said, grabbing a plate. She filled it with a couple waffles and some cantaloupe. She took a seat next to Michael at the table of counselors.

“You two had us worried sick.” Carly said, looking at the two of them. “What happened?”

“Well, I had gone down to the river last night to be alone. The river started getting crazy, but I was enjoying watching it. The water had started rising from the storm and the rapids were cracking the boards. I tried to get off before it broke completely, but I got off on the wrong side.”

“I saw the broken bridge and I thought she had ended up in the water. I spent, like, an hour looking for her before I gave up and went to the farm.” Michael added.

“I had already been in the barn for a while. I went there right after I got off the bridge. I tried to use the landline out there to call you guys, but the power was out.” Aspen said. “Then, Michael showed up.”

“We slept in the barn to avoid getting struck by lightning, and we swam across the river this morning to get back. We decided we wanted to be dry for breakfast, so we changed before we came here.” Michael said. “It was a rough night. I thought the barn was gonna be swept away.”

“You had us all so worried.” Alex nodded. “We really thought you were both dead.”

“Yeah, your brothers didn’t sleep at all last night.” Carly sighed. “They kept saying they should’ve gone with Michael to look for you.”

“I should probably go talk to them.” Aspen sighed, looking over at them.

“I think that’d be a good idea.” Alex nodded. “We’ll talk to you later.” Aspen nodded and got up, going over to the table her brothers were sitting at.

“What the hell were you thinking last night?” Carter asked, looking at her.

“I didn’t think the storm would come on that strong so fast.” Aspen sighed. “I couldn’t sleep and I needed to go somewhere to think.”

“We thought you were dead.” Caleb sighed. “You should’ve come back when the storm hit.”

“I would have, but the bridge was hit by the water.” Aspen said. “It’s uncrossable now. We’ll have to rebuild it.”

“What do you mean it was hit by the water?” Carter asked.

“The water kept rising with the rain and the winds caused the currents to go crazy. The water hit the bridge and broke the boards.” Aspen said. “I was on the other side of the river and couldn’t get back across, so I went to the farm and stayed in the barn where it was dry. Michael found me there.”

“How did you get back across this morning?” Caden asked.

“We swam across the river and went down to the dam.” Aspen said.

“Are you insane? You never go in the river after a storm as bad as last night.” Carter said. “You could have gotten yourself and Michael killed. Do I need to remind you of the last time we had a storm this bad?” Carter asked, his voice lowering.

“No, I remember perfectly.” Aspen looked down. “We all do.”

“Good. Do not go back to the river, understand?” Carter asked sternly.

“I understand.” Aspen sighed.

“We’re glad you’re okay.” Caden sighed, hugging her gently. “We can put it all behind us now.” He said, sending a glare to Carter. Carter rolled his eyes and stood up.

“I’m going to look at the damage on the bridge. Karmen, you can dismiss the kids for activities.” Carter said, walking out of the mess hall. Aspen sighed and watched him walk away.

“Don’t worry about him. You know how worked up he gets during storms.” Karmen said, squeezing Aspen’s shoulder gently.

“I didn’t mean to get stuck out there. None of us knew when it would hit or how hard.” Aspen sighed.

“We know that. We were all just worried about you. Especially after everything with Audrey, we didn’t know if she had pulled something else.” Caleb reasoned. “He’ll get better, don’t worry.”

“He’s always so hard on me, for no reason. It’s not my fault I was stuck out there, it’s not my fault I couldn’t get back, it’s not my fault Audrey’s the Devil.” Aspen huffed. “He thinks he’s my dad.”

“He thinks he’s the boss of all of us, it’s just him being protective. Don’t get to hung up on it, you know how he is.” Caden sighed. “You just have to give him time.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Aspen took a deep breath. “We better get the kids out to their activities now.”

The day went smoothly, for the most part. The kids were disappointed about having to do all of their activities inside, but they were over it by the time freetime started. They were more than fine with sitting in their friends’ cabins, or hanging out in the rec hall. Michael was in the treehouse with the boys and some campers. Michael was playing pingpong with one of the boys in his cabin. “I get to play the winner.” One of the campers said.

“Actually,” Audrey said, walking into the treehouse. “Why don’t you take Michael’s spot? We need to talk.” Audrey smiled softly at him.

“We don’t need to talk. I can keep playing.” Michael rolled his eyes.

“Please, Mike? I just want to explain myself..” Audrey sighed.

“Alright, fine. I’ll give you two minutes.” Michael sighed, following her down the stairs. He looked into the craft room as they passed, making eye contact with Karmen. He cocked his head, gesturing for her to follow. She stood by the door and pulled out her phone, opening her recording app. “What do you have to say?” Michael asked Audrey, crossing his arms.

“I just wanted to talk about what happened and what we do about it now.” Audrey said, rubbing her arms nervously.

“We aren’t going to do anything about it now. You’re going to leave me and Aspen alone, and we’re going to have a great rest of the summer.” Michael crossed his arms.

“Don’t you see, Michael? Aspen’s been trying to come between us. She only ever liked you because I liked you. She always steals the guy I like. Ever since we were in middle school. She’s dated every guy I’ve ever liked.” Audrey sighed and looked up at him. “She doesn’t actually like you, she’s just using you to make me jealous.”

“God, you are so full of shit.” Michael laughed dryly. “Do you really expect me to believe you after everything you’ve done? You could have killed Aspen and you’re still trying to tell me she’s the bad guy here?”

“She is the bad guy. She’s been lying to you the whole time.” Audrey whined.

“Get your head out of your ass and face reality, Audrey. Aspen has done nothing to you. It’s not her fault you have no talent. Why are you still pretending she’s the enemy? Wouldn’t life be so much easier if you just told the truth?” Michael threw his hands up in exasperation.

“What? You want me to just admit that I lied about her? You want me to tell everyone that she didn’t wrong me in any way? I’ll be labelled as the bitter reject.” Audrey rolled her eyes.

“I want you to leave Aspen and her career alone. If you’re so mad about her being successful, why don’t you try learning to play more instruments or learning to write your own songs?” Michael questioned.

“I can’t just learn a new instrument. It’s a little late for me to start learning. And, how can I learn to write songs? It’s not like picking up a new instrument.”

“You need to try something.” Michael groaned. “I don’t know, okay? I’m not talentless, like you. Just start trying, and leave me and Aspen alone.”

“But, Michael, I do like you.” Audrey looked up at him, tears filling her eyes.

“And, what? You think I’m just going to tell you that I like you too? Well, I don’t. Not after everything you’ve done to her.”

“I haven’t done anything, but lie about the rivalry. She didn’t steal my songs and she got signed because she was better than me.” Audrey said.

“Really? All you did was lie? You didn’t do anything else to her?” Michael raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, and I started a war. I made her get fired from Keith Urban’s tour, I tampered with her instruments, I vandalized her tour bus, I slashed the tires on her tour bus, I fucked her boyfriend, I set up the trap in the woods that nearly broke her ankle, I made my campers sabotage the game. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Audrey threw her hands up.

“Did you get enough, Karmen?” Michael asked, turning to look at the door to the craft room.

“Oh, I have plenty. Thank you.” She smirked, showing herself to Audrey.

“You set me up?” Audrey gasped, looking at Michael. “How could you?”

“You act like I’m betraying you. I never liked you. I’m doing this to make sure you leave me and Aspen alone. I don’t ever want to hear things about you interfering with her life or with her career, got it?” Michael raised an eyebrow.

“Got it..” Audrey sighed, looking at Karmen. “Please delete what you have. I can’t have this getting out.”

“I didn’t make any notes, I was only listening.” Karmen lied.

[blackers-donuts]

Five times Clancy Crew Chained his bikes to Ruby Redfort's and one time he didn't.

First fanfic in this fandom even though it is hella small. I saw the prompt and it made me think of Clancy and Ruby- it starts off with them not knowing each other at all except from passing in corridors.

********* The first time it was a mistake- honestly the chain accidentally went through the frame and well, it only held Ruby up temporarily. She went in to get a donut from the shop and maybe a game of ping pong and by the time she had left the shop then the bike previously attached to hers had gone and there wasn’t a second thought as she climbed on it to go back home.

The second was also a mistake- but it did hold her up. Ruby saw that suddenly in her school cycling was the new way to get around and whilst it was good for the ozone layer or something, it was bad for the already rather small bike hut in school which barely had enough racks for the normal riders but now well, there was a green bike attached to her own red one. And she had to get home before her parents could condemn her for being late. Clancy ran out after half hour French revision session and apologised rapidly before unlocking it and cycling away.

The third time he forgot his lock and picked Ruby’s for the two seconds he needed to lock his bike up for the two seconds to buy a new book on the terrors of the ocean. She didn’t even notice but seeing as Ruby hadn’t really care the previous day and that this was so short and he could spot the redhead in the cafe playing a furious game of pingpong in the window. He placed the thick book in his backpack and picked the lock to start cycling back home, happy that no one really noticed the picking of said lock.

The fourth time, Ruby picked the lock around him and scribbled a quick note that said ‘Your welcome for using my lock Ruby’ and dropped it into his basket, in morse code. Okay, he was testing his luck doing it twice, but he got caught up in the shop- he needed some new textbooks and the shop was out of stock on something and a lady was yelling at the stocker and well it took him half an hour to get his book. At least Ruby didn’t take his bike with her- not quite sure how it was possible but knowing the rumours that circled around the school she would have been entirely possible. He promised himself to never do it again, two times was enough and she seemed fairly nice enough.

The fifth time was on purpose- a joke for Clancy in some sense. In fact he waited at the window of the shop he was in to see her walk past and simply pick his lock around her bike, only to refasten it to the lamp post. Ruby again wrote another coded message, before shaking her head slightly and cycling away. He drained bis milk shake and walked out, translating it to English from the simple binary code it read “Stop being a bozo, bozo.”

The next time they interacted someone had attached their skateboard to Clancy’s bike via bungee ties, for some reason he new exactly who it was despite not even noticing the spray painted R.R on the back. He could have just left it, decided it wasn’t worthwhile to wait but after her doing so much for him throughout the time it was basic politeness that was going to prevent him from unfastening the cords and cycling away. That and a fear of an event later that if he turned up late for he wouldn’t have to appear at all.

“So you’re the bozo that picks my lock,” says Ruby, a light grin on top of her face. “Well, you’re the bozo that has an easy lock to pick, if you had combination lock then I wouldn’t pick it,” he replies. “Why did you wait around, it’s been fifteen minutes,” she says, “since you got here.” “If I go home, I have to go to an event, smiley ambassador kids,” he says combining jazz hands to add to the sarcasm. “You aren’t one of those Crew kids are you,” she asks. “Clancy Crew, yes.” “I’m Ruby, Ruby Redfort. We should meet at a time that wasn’t met by a feud over bike locks,” she says. “I am sorry about that.” She nods and sticks her hand out for him to shake, “heard you didn’t want to go home?” Clancy laughs at his new friend, “no.” “Let’s show you the crazy world of the Redfort’s.” She decides before detaching her skateboard and kicking off into the distance swiftly followed by Clancy on his bike.

[igiti2019]

Day 33 (6/20)

HAPPY WORLD REFUGEE DAY!!!!!!!!! This morning we all came into work for the celebration of World Refugee Day that we’ve been helping to plan and set up. When we first arrived everyone was in the great hall looking at different exhibits explaining Iteme, Kepler’s presence in refugee camps, etc. Then we all sat down, and the MC, David, got the official day’s events started. There was first a welcoming speech, and then the same group of Kepler students that did traditional Rwandan dance for when SNHU came to visit did a dance for us. After that, Richesse, a refugee ambassador for Kepler, gave a touching speech about what Kepler means to him. After his speech a few other Burundian refugees joined him and they all delivered short spoken poetry about being refugees with the theme, “I remember”. (“I remember lots of friends in Burundi, and walking around with the rights of any other citizen.”) Once the performances were done, the main event of the day, a panel discussion, began. On the panel there were a few refugee students, and then some local administrators from Kepler and other organizations that work with refugees. They were asked two rounds of questions from the MC, and then it was opened to the audience for questions. They mostly spoke about refugee education and employment in Rwanda, and get this – refugees don’t need a work permit to work in Rwanda, like internationals who moved here on their own accord do! For a refugee to be employed it takes the same exact amount of steps as a Rwandan citizen. I think that is a really really cool and easily implementable policy. After the panel was a hilarious standup comedian from Burundi who mocked the way Ananya, Zodi, and I spoke, and had contagious energy and laughs. Finally after him was a closing speech from Laura, the head of diversity, and then photos outside holding signs that say #StepWithRefugees which is UNHCR’s initiative this year for refugee month. Then it became open for people to dance, get snacks, and talk and hang out inside or outside. While we were standing waiting for food the MC, Davide came up to us and introduced himself. He’s a recent Kepler graduate who now has a job outside of Kepler, and he’s HILARIOUS. We talked about the safari we’re going on, he advised us to bring alcohol, food, and music with a speaker, because, “No one should go a 7-hour car ride without those essentials.” Once the food was served, Ananya, Zodi, and I sat down and we were sitting near Audrine (a coworker we’re very friendly with), Davide (MC), and Chris Aldo (a student intern that we interviewed a few weeks ago), so I moved my chair over to join their group and Zodi and Ananya followed. Also sitting with us was a Kepler student, Rosette Muhoza, who recently received recognition from PRINCE HARRY. YEAH. For a company that she founded that focuses on recycling plastic waste in Rwanda. We all talked for a while and ended up making plans to go out tomorrow night!! I’m so happy to have plans with people our age who are funny and smart and mostly just OUR AGE. Yay!! After a while we left Kepler and went to Pili Pili, a lounge, restaurant, and hotel with a pool that we’ve been wanting to spend time at lately. When we first got there we ordered food by the side of the pool, except that I didn’t order anything because the menu was extremely expensive, but the waiter brought me a $12 dish that I had asked about but never actually ordered.. It was fish, ubugali, and isombe, which I do love, but it’s expensive and a large serving, so I was kind of upset about that.. And then they took it back away from me when I was only half done with it!!!! The nerve.. The bright side is that then Zodi felt bad for me and bought me a mojito. We never did end up swimming because Ananya left pretty early and Zodi and I got into an hours long conversation about being in Kigali and how we both had very different expectations coming in, and how we’re both now reacting to our reality because of what our expectations were. There was a large Italian family that came in and they all went swimming and they were adorable, so we didn’t mind not sharing the pool with 100 people who were tan and beautiful and yelling in Italian. When the sun started to set we made plans to go to a Korean restaurant that friends recommended to us, and invited Arsen, a Rwandan friend that Zodi met on his tour in the national park who went to college in Utah. We got to the restaurant before him and played pingpong until he arrived, then all ordered bibimbap and ate until we felt like we couldn’t move. Arsen was so nice, he’s the second or third Rwandan I’ve met who spent time in the US, and it’s always surreally strange to speak with someone who is very in tuned with our conversation pace and humor, it’s always so cool. We had a really great dinner and then invited him to join us at Inema happy hour later. But first Zodi and I went home to rest and change, and then we left for Inema. I’ve been to Inema probably five times so far, but I hadn’t yet been to Inema happy hour. We were meeting a few people there, but initially it was just Zodi and me and I did NOT understand the vibe there. It was very American frat party feels, with very crowded spaces and loud music and everyone holding drinks and some people dancing but most people keeping to themselves, but the crowd was part young expats, part rich hip Rwandans, and part really really old people. Luckily we found that they had a huge backyard area down some stairs behind trees which was much more open, so we went down there and waited for two friends named Jacob and then Arsen to show up. There were a lot of expats and some of them introduced themselves to us. There were also painted motorbikes that a lot of expats were taking pictures on that Zodi and Jacob FORCED me to do with them (it was so embarrassing). We ran into the man from Sudan that I talked to! And Arsen introduced us to some Rwandans that he knew there. And of course Innocent, Dennis, and Emmanuel (brothers who run Inema) all came up and said hello. Towards the end of the night two young expats walked in and eventually introduced themselves to us. They were Cyril and Jasmine from Paris and they were SO cool. Zodi got Cyril’s number so that we could invite them to our plans tomorrow night, but when we tried texting it it didn’t work.. So either he didn’t like us and gave us a fake number (impossible) or he wrote it down wrong (more probable). After being there for long enough we went home, but I only 600 francs on me which is just short of the cab fare home, so I recruited Arsen to explain my situation to all of the moto drivers until we found one who was friendly enough to accept my meager offering. I was very grateful that he accepted, but I will say that every time we went around a roundabout he leaned the motorcycle so hard that it scraped on the road. Great great great day! Excited for tomorrow!!

Peace

[xluciferrisingxworld-blog]

Pebble in Water - Part 1

Throw a pebble into a pond, it creates ripples, Circling outwards, unhindered. Throw in a bunch of pebbles, the ripples collide, Each affecting the others, unending, In a masterpiece of chaotic motion. We are all pebbles, seven billion, Tossed into one great pond. ***       Jezzica lived in a studio, to call it an apartment would have been generous. It was more of a bedroom with an attached bath, a small fridge, and a microwave. Jezzica did not care, most of her meals were microwaved or delivered, so she had no need for the luxury of a kitchen. Some of her friends even called her lucky to have, as they called it, a “large” room. It was big enough for her to have a full sized bed, what more could she want?         The closet was permanently jammed open with dirty clothes, and her five sets of work outfits hung preciously above the mess. Trash bags, stuffed with various food containers, were dutifully lined up alongside the wall to the door. It could be another few days before they made it to the trash-shoot. Blankets encircled the bed, like a moat, defending the sanctity of sleep. To the left, there was a distressed wooden nightstand, which offered splinters at the slightest touch. On the table, there was a lamp sans shade, five used tissues, allergy medicine, and an alarm clock angrily buzzing that it was seven thirty.         Jezzica was sprawled out across the bed, and blindly swatted at the clock until it stopped making noise. She turned toward the nightstand, her eyes still closed, and buried her round face in her pillow.         “Please, don’t be there,” she mumbled.         She opened her eyes to the distorted view of her sheets’ worn floral pattern. She slowly turned her head left; and, with a great heave of her chest, closed her eyes again. The only window in her micro-apartment was blocked by a black creature, oozing and dripping darkness all over the stained-green carpet. She peeked up at it. It grinned, showing off its snow-white-razor-teeth.    Jezzica swung her feet out of bed, and stood face-to-face with the figure. She stared at it for a few seconds: she did not move; it did not move. She cracked first, and stumbled toward the bathroom. It followed. The chittering echoes of its whispers began, as it did every morning.         “You’re going to be late. You’re so pathetic, such a waste of space. No one even wants to see you,” it hissed.          Jezzica brushed her light brown hair, and pulled it into a pony tale, without even glancing into the mirror. She pulled her pajama-bottoms down, and sat on the toilet. The creature’s red eyes examined every inch of her. It saw her arm flaps, the fat hanging off of thighs, her double chin, and her stomach, which rested on her thighs.          “You’re so fat and disgusting. No one will ever love.”          She finished, and washed her hands. She trudged to the closet, kicking dirty clothes out of her way, and grabbed a pair of dress pants and a shirt.          “Are you really going to wear that? Does it even still fit you? This is why Linda snickers when you walk pass her. You look like a pig in a pants suit.”           Jezzica dressed herself; the pants squeezed around the middle, creating the perfect muffin top. The sleeves were tight around her arms, making them appear to be burst sausages. She slowly bent down—listening for rips—, and rummaged through the pile of clothes to find some socks. Her shoes were scuffed, and she suspected that a hole was about to form on the toe of the left one.          “This is why you haven’t gotten that raise,” she whispered, “Dress for the job you want, not like a hobo who walked in off of the street.”            She glanced over at the creature, it gave an approving sharp-toothed grin. ***         Lucifer clawed his way up another foot. The Pit’s dark dirt burrowed deeper into his finger and toe nails. His black-feathered wings beat, aiding his movement upwards. He glared up into a round opening filled with orange light. It would be another three feet before he reached the faintest glow from above. His claws pierced the side of the Pit, his wings pumped, and he made it up another few inches.          Lucifer’s skin was coated in a thick layer of dirt, making it appear to be as black as coal. His hair was matted with sweat, dirt, and the grey feces of an unknown fowl. His eyes were blood shot, and so dilated that the pupils appeared to be black holes. His muscles were tense, as they struggled to keep him ascending.          “I’m coming for you,” Lucifer growled, “Even if I have to crawl up inch by inch.”          The sound of a screech echoed around the dark cavern, and Lucifer paused. His wings became motionless, and he began to slide downward. Another squall sounded, closer to him. Lucifer covered his body with his wings, and dug his finger and toes into the dirt. Some of his nails snapped off, re-grew, snapped off, and re-grew again as the gravitational pull dragged him back down into the Pit. He was quickly losing the ground he gained that day. ***         Jezzica sat at her desk, glancing back and forth between bank statements, reports, and a spreadsheet on her monitor. There was a blanket of papers scattered around her, one precariously perched on her phone. Her cubical had notes stuck all over the walls, and a few candy wrappers lay on the floor around her trashcan. The creature took up half of the space, and stood over her shoulder. It put a goopy-clawed hand on her shoulder. She peered up at it.        “You’re never going to get all this work done. It’s hopeless, you’re hopeless. You’re such a failure,” it breathed into her ear.          Jezzica shook it off, and focused harder on her work. She checked numbers, crossed off others, and entered them into the computer. She worked like this for a few minutes; when, she heard the sound of Adam’s stride down the row of cubicles. The sound of nails clicking and scrapping on the tile floor intensified as he approached. He stopped about three rows away from her, Linda’s desk.        “Nice work, as always,” Adam said, “And, may I add that you look lovely today.”        “Oh, thanks. This is a new shirt, I was nervous to wear it today,” Linda chirped.        “Well, you made the right decision. Will I see you at pingpong practice, tonight?”        “I can’t wait. This time, I’ll beat you for sure.”        Jezzica rolled her eyes.       “We’ll see about that,” Adam said.        “I don’t know she’s gotten pretty good,” Cindy said, from across the hall.        “If you’re right about that, we might finally be able to beat the guys from the third floor,” he said.        The two women hummed in agreement. Adam nodded a farewell, and he continued his march down the lineup of cubicles. This time he stopped at Jezzica’s desk, and tossed more paper onto it.        Adam was not a tall man; he was barely even average in height, but he carried himself like he was six foot. He was the type of man who dressed above his means, carefully groomed his hair and eyebrows, and whitened his teeth. He had a permanent smirk, as if he had already won the argument. His chest was inflated with an unearned air of entitlement and victory.       “Get these done by tomorrow,” he said.       Jezzica glanced between the pile of work on her desk, the clock, and Adam. He too had a creature following him; although, he could not see it. Adam’s creature was big and hairy, resembling a cross between a wolf and a bear. It laughed and sneered at Jezzica. She opened her mouth to object, then closed it, and briefly flipped through the papers.      “Maybe, someone else could…”      “I asked you to do it, so get it done.”      Adam marched away before Jezzica could make an argument. His monster followed behind, its claws clinking on the linoleum tiles.      “He has no respect for you,” her creature said, “Why would he? You’re a pathetic pile of shit.”       Jezzica stared at the scissors on her desk. The oozing figure draped itself over her shoulder, its slime trickled down her cheek.      “Just a few slices, and it will all be over.”      Jezzica shoved the monster off of her, and continued checking and entering numbers. She worked until a quarter after six; the once messy papers became two neat stacks. She sighed, and took out her cell phone. There were four messages from Kira. Jezzica groaned, but smiled. She opened her phone and read the messages.                            “Omg are u coming 2 the diner tonight?”                             “I hav 2 tell u bout my audition!”                             “I’ll save ur booth.”                             “Where r u?”          Jezzica grabbed her things, and headed for the elevator. Most of the lights were off, and she navigated by the light of her phone. She passed by the break room, and saw Adam and Linda still in there playing pingpong. Jezzica hated Linda’s creature the most: it was grayish-white, skeletal, had no teeth, and only wisps of sliver hair. It often hissed at Jezzica, provoked her own oozing beast, and whispered awful things to Linda, which made her grin. Adam came up behind Linda to guide her through a swing. Their monsters flirted with each other, in growls and grunts. Jezzica gawked for a second, until she caught the eye of Linda’s beast. She hurried away into the elevator.           “That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen,” she mumbled to herself.           “No man is ever going to touch you like that.”          Jezzica and her monster stepped into the elevator, and descended to the ground floor. ***           A scaled creature, with glowing green eyes, talons, and rows of razor like teeth in a pointed beak, soared towards Lucifer. He held his breath. The intensity of its eyes cut through him, and he feared he would be thrown back to the bottom. However, it flew away with a shrill screech. Lucifer’s wings unfolded, and his slow movement upward began again. His fingers dug, knuckle deep, into the black earth. The claws on his toes gripped the wall; and his wings flapped with great thrusts. He pulled himself up, an inch, another inch. He regained the ground he lost.          “I don’t care if it takes me another thousand years, I will get out of this hole. And when I do, I’m coming for you.”          Every little movement upwards was fought for, and won. Soon, Lucifer gained a foot, and he began to feel the gravitational pull lighten, allowing him to achieve more height quicker. With the next foot, the slight tingle of his magic began to fill his body. By the third foot, he was in the warm orange glow of the light, which came from the opening in the Pit. Lucifer’s wings beat faster, and his muscles strained harder. Freedom was neigh.

[joshuazev]

On a familiar plain or a review or a recap or an attempt to adjust to the time difference:

I didn’t think it was my eyes failing me.  I mean, I knew I hadn’t got much sleep, but the last time I checked I could see just fine.  I could tell when certain things looked a little foreign and when appearances I was accustomed to looked a bit altered.  When the pilot told us passengers that we would be making our descent in Seattle he mentioned something about a “smoky haze” covering the city due to some forest fires coming down from British Colombia.  Now British Colombia was located inside of Canada, I remembered.  And when was Canada truly at fault for anything.  When I heard this I thought it must have been a mistake, until I could see only parts of the city below.  Normally you’d see the familiar clouds in the distance and other times you’d see the deep grey and blue of the ocean masses and a terrain of evergreen trees that never seemed to end.  This time, you couldn’t see much.  You could make out certain sections that only a native resident could have noticed.  Otherwise, the faded orange-ish hue painted every direction and every horizon.  It was summer, it was.  But it was unfamiliar.  I was unaccustomed.  

Until I made my way back from the airport and suddenly it was as if the day started playing a previously recorded track of a day I had lived before months or years earlier in the same place.  A non-stop deja vu sequence that never allowed me to sober up or snap out of it.  It was around 10 o’clock, I believe.  We knew better than to take I-5.  For one, who takes I-5 to get back from the airport?  And two, we always took Highway 99.  In the past few years it feels like 99 has become progressively more crowded throughout the day, which was unheard of years ago.  It’s possible this was all connected to the tunnel being built.  You know the one that’s costing 1.44 Billion dollars.  Maybe it was because of more car traffic.  Lane reductions.  More people living in the city.  Or maybe there was a city wide announcement that Highway 99 was looking for more people to take the load off of I-5 and, instead of getting the select few they needed, everyone that knew nothing about 99 and selectively heard from the announcement that 99 will get you where you needed to go faster, flocked 99 in hope to fulfill that promise and chase that dream.

We made it through after a while, going fast through the pockets of the commute that we always knew would be open and slowing at spots we knew were sure to drain us.  At some point we got hungry and ate at a place that we had frequented for Sunday morning breakfasts for years and years.  Despite not having seen all of the hostesses we had come to know, we did see one.  She assumed we’d be getting the same order we always got, but not this time.  A garlic, onion, mozzarella, mushroom, green pepper, Italian sausage, tomatoes, scramble with hash browns on the side, hot sauces to provide, and an extra side of whole wheat toast.  I demolished it so quick that I barely remembered having eaten it at all.  My stomach felt a little heavier, so there was proof in the pudding, but part of me did wonder what had happened to the missing food.  One of us had to get our favorite french toast to balance out the equilibrium.  Our waitress obliged.  

After the meal was over we ran into a face we knew.  A teacher I had.  A dear friend of his who was married to another dear friend of his, who was another teacher I had.  They birthed two babies who I had never met before and *POOF* here they were, growing by the minute, two youngsters getting set to start 1st grade, each with a boundless energy that was impossible to ignore.  

I received a call regarding basketball that required my legs, arms, and services and I provided them.  For a little more than an hour, which—to be honest—felt like seven hours, I ran up a basketball court, a routine I knew that had since become a foreign exercise.  A blistered my big toe, turned the ball over like pancake flipper, and got the exercise that I had been daydreaming about.  I exerted my demonstrativeness and yet passed first, and, all in all, had a great time with my friends.

From there I received a message from a future firefighter.  (My fingers will be crossed until late-November, the date in which he either will become a firefighter or not.)  We agreed to meet at our favorite taco place in Capitol Hill, a place that never was empty and had a never-ending stream of people flocking to get a taste.  I sped to the Hill, speeding more like, and arrived there a little late, but still time to wolf down some good Mexican food.  I ordered too much— at least I thought I did after I saw the receipt.  Four tacos.  Two baby burritos.  We talked and spoke about our friends.  He put me up to date on a lot of the goings-on.  He mentioned that his photographs were being hung at the coffee shop he used to work at right by my house.  By this time the food had arrived and we proceeded to destroy what was on our plate.  In that last bite I had officially come to a conclusion, which I had suspected even earlier in the consumption; this place wasn’t as good anymore.  Because I love that place so much, I’ll give it a pass, but we were warned by others that it might have lost a step.  Our worst fears had come true.  It was a disappointing outcome to what had been an awesome late lunch.  I was stuffed.

An hour or so later I received a call from a personality.  He had just gotten off work and wanted to meet me at the Hookah lounge.  I wanted to go to Greenlake and walk around.  I figured I didn’t care and would have more opportunities to go to Greenlake during my trip.  I happily took the bus on the way there, stopping at the old grocery store whose name had survived every remodel and revamp.  Even before that I took a moment to stand on the corner of the block I grew up and breathe in the air, take a deep breath, appreciate the surroundings, and appreciate where I was.  It was the middle of the day and it was a peaceful quiet.  Dry grass all around.  

The Hookah Lounge was fun.  It made me dizzy.  I’m a lightweight and I have no shame in saying that.  It’s a different type of smoking.  You don’t inhale, first of all.  You suck the mouthpiece and hope to get enough out of the initial inhale to blow it right out.  We did this for an hour and I felt lightheaded, whereas my brother felt lightheaded because of his fatigue and tiredness coming off of his first grown man, 9-5, job.  More than anything we just chopped it up.  Talked about our lives.  Kicked back and bullshitted a little bit.  A revisit prerequisite.  

From there to another friends house to watch our professional baseball team, play some pingpong, and enjoy the view.  I didn’t do so hot at the winning part of the game.  The Mariners ended up in better shape, despite starting slow.  A lot of the interaction felt very New York, culminating in a segment near the end of the visit where we were all talking mess and getting on each others heads in jest and sitting comfortably on the outside stoop.  We imitated baseball stances, cussed each other out, laughed with and at each other, and when it was dark, finally split up.  

But the night wasn’t over.  I left so I could see Her and when I did I picked her up and transferred as much love and energy as I could into a one great big hug.

And then one of my brothers with whom I had played basketball with agreed to take a night run.  We did just that.  We ran around the outside loop of Greenlake.  Through the bathroom breaks.  Through the sprinklers.  And up a deadly hill to finish it off.  

There is a familiarity in these actions.  A warm fuzzy feeling that figures to stay around, at least until I leave.  Who am I kidding?  

I know exactly where my home will always be.

[othersportsnews-blog]

New York Jets' Josh McCown eager to convert back again clock, win setting up position - New York Jets Blog

New Post has been published on https://othersportsnews.com/new-york-jets-josh-mccown-eager-to-convert-back-again-clock-win-setting-up-position-new-york-jets-blog/

New York Jets' Josh McCown eager to convert back again clock, win setting up position - New York Jets Blog

With trip above, let us acquire a appear at what’s going on all around the New York Jets, who report to training camp on Friday:

1. No Joshing all around: Josh McCown has explained all the right factors because signing with the Jets, which is what you would be expecting from a participant with a sterling popularity as a workforce-to start with dude, but do not be fooled into imagining he’d be content to sit on the bench. He is a fiery competitor and wants to play. In a cellular phone interview, I asked McCown if he expects to be the Week 1 starter.

“Yeah,” he explained. “All of our anticipations really should be that way. I’m no distinctive. I came right here simply because I had an option to compete for the position, so that’s my expectation — to go out and play the finest soccer that I’ve at any time performed and assist this workforce win soccer game titles.”

It will be McCown compared to Christian Hackenberg compared to Bryce Petty in training camp. McCown won’t know how the reps will be divided, but he suspects it’ll be comparable to the offseason tactics — an even break up.

McCown, 38, is the most loved simply because of his working experience, which he believes provides him an edge above the two younger passers.

“Clearly, any time you happen to be in a predicament in which you have this considerably much more working experience than the other guys, you really should have an edge,” he explained. “But, at the similar time, we are all in this issue jointly and it really is a new offense. We’re all understanding it. I assumed this spring was incredibly helpful for us and I think training camp will be in which we can acquire it to one more degree.”

McCown’s objective is to be the quarterback he was in 2013, his signature time. Enjoying for the Chicago Bears, he changed an injured Jay Cutler and compiled a 13-1 landing/interception ratio. Stylistically, there are parallels involving the two offenses, he explained. He likes that.

“Ideally, I am going to be capable to play at a comparable degree that I performed at when I was there,” he explained. “That’s my attitude.”

Far too negative he won’t have his outdated mates from Chicago, Brandon Marshall, Alshon Jeffery and Martellus Bennett.

two. Responding to Brandon: Marshall raised some eyebrows in a current radio interview when he explained he asked for his launch simply because he “wouldn’t have built it through an complete time figuring out we didn’t have a chance.” Ouch!

“That’s Brandon’s feeling and Brandon is a good friend of mine,” McCown explained. “I love him and he’s entitled to his feeling. I would like him the finest at the Giants. We have acquired a route we are headed and thrilled about. I truly do not pay out way too considerably focus to it just simply because guys have distinctive thoughts about factors, and that’s his. I do not concur with it, but as a good friend, hey, I regard it.”

Would not it be ironic if Marshall, whose fiery pep talks fell on deaf ears final time, gives a rallying cry now that he’s long gone?

3. Nouveau riche: With his rookie contract finalized, Jamal Adams jumps to the No. two place on the Jets’ 2017 payroll. He will make just shy of $14.8 million this calendar year, such as a documented $14.3 million signing bonus. The only participant earning much more income is Muhammad Wilkerson ($fifteen million). Centered on cap price, Adams ($4. million) ranks 13th on the workforce.

4. A person month to Klecko verdict: The Jets’ official world wide web internet site is making a potent work to endorse Joe Klecko for the Pro Football Corridor of Fame. In actuality, they introduced a micro internet site, trumpeting Klecko’s qualifications.

Klecko will be thought of as a senior applicant for the fourth straight calendar year. Two senior finalists will be named for the Course of 2018, and people will be selected Aug. 24 when the 8-person senior committee (comprised of longtime NFL journalists) conducts its choice approach. Finalists are a digital lock to be accredited by the whole committee, which satisfies the working day in advance of the Super Bowl.

You already know how I truly feel about this: I think Klecko, who built the Pro Bowl at a few distinctive positions on the defensive line, belongs in Canton.

five. Group Turnover: You’ve got put in the final several months examining about the large modifications to the roster. Here is some point of view on what unfolded: The Jets return only ten of the 22 starters from final season’s Week 1 lineup. In addition, only 4 of the top rated-ten gamers in snaps performed above the final five seasons remain on the roster — Wilkerson, Demario Davis, Sheldon Richardson and Brian Winters.

That’s what you phone major turnover.

6. Execs on the rise: According to the official workforce world wide web internet site, Brian Heimerdinger has been promoted to vice president of participant staff. Beforehand, he was the director of participant staff. He has been working as basic supervisor Mike Maccagnan’s right-hand person because the start off of the regime in 2015. The Jets also elevated Matt Bazirgan. He results in being the director of college or university scouting, changing Rex Hogan, who took a staff position with the Indianapolis Colts.

7. Wax on, Wax off: McCown explained the most fascinating issue he did in the offseason was transfer from Waxhaw, North Carolina (pop. nine,900) to Waxahachie, Texas (pop. 29,600).

McCown joked that “we could possibly be the to start with folks in historical past” to make the transfer involving people two burgs. I think that’s a risk-free assumption.

What subsequent, a transfer to Wax, Kentucky?

8. Encouraged examining: For the duration of trip, I finally acquired a chance to read Jim Pons’ individual memoir, entitled, “Challenging Core Adore: Sexual intercourse, Football and Rock and Roll in the Kingdom of God.” Pons was the Jets’ movie director from 1973 to 2000. Prior to that, he was a bass participant and singer for the nineteen sixties rock band The Turtles. He also toured with Alice Cooper and Frank Zappa.

Pons gives a at the rear of-the-scenes appear into his distinctive worlds, such as his encounter with the Beatles, his epic pingpong match towards Cooper (Pons won) and his bash lifetime with the seventies and 1980s Jets teams.

I am going to always try to remember Ponsy, as he was called, as friendly and approachable. I would like I had asked much more issues about his unbelievable lifetime it would’ve built for a heck of a tale back again then.

Resource website link