#Spanker Producer

[kadinbakisi]

Spanker Kimdir, Nereli, Gerçek Adı Nedir?

Spanker Kimdir, Nereli, Gerçek Adı Nedir?

Murda’nın Saltbae isimli son parçasında da imzası bulunan ve yeniden merak edilen isimlerden olmayı başaran Spanker kimdir ? Murda ile birlikte çalışan başarılı bir Beatmaker’dır. Spanker gerçek adı nedir ? gerçek adı Tevin Irvin Plaate olup 1990 doğumludur. Sahne adı ‘Spanker’, olup istikrarlı bir hit kaydına sahip, Hollanda Amsterdam’dan bir hit yapımcıdır. Ezhel ile Murda’nın Aya isimli…

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#İnsan Azmanı Ne Demek #Prod. Spanker Ne Demek #Rapçi Spanker Kimdir #Spanker Biyografi #Spanker Gerçek Adı #Spanker Gerçek Adı Nedir #Spanker Gerçek İsmi #Spanker Gerçek İsmi Nedir #Spanker Kimdir #Spanker Ne Demek #Spanker Nedir #Spanker Nereli #Spanker Producer #Spanker Türk Mü #Spankito Ne Demek #Spankito Nedir

[aykutiltertr]

Aya - Murda & Ezhel ✩ Ritim Karaoke Orijinal Trafik (Türkçe Rap)  Ayrıcalıklardan yararlanmak için bu kanala katılın: ( Join this channel to enjoy privileges.) ✩ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCqm-5vmc2L6oFZ1vo2Fz3JQ/join Şarkının Orijinal Versiyonunu Linkten Dinleyip Ritim Karaokesiyle Çalışabilirsiniz. ✩ https://youtu.be/FPFlY0hi3ak Aykut ilter Ritim Karaoke Kanalıma Abone Olun Beğenip Paylaşın. Aya - Murda & Ezhel ✩ Ritim Karaoke Orijinal Trafik (Türkçe Rap) B Shawty bana baksan                       C Bende yazsam sana bir love song               B Gel omuzuma yaslan                         C Shawty benimle misin bu akşam                    Sus      Bb Dedi ki götür beni aya aya aya              B          C Dedim gidek uzaya aya aya                         Sus        Bb My baby girl she got the faya faya faya               B                  C Bi gelebilsen buraya, hasretinden yana yana yana B Shutdown als ik B Touchdown ben ik C Uptown pull up met die top down yea B Bıraksan beni B Kalsam geri C Olmaz shawty sensiz bu hayat Sus Diamonds op chest like         B You the best like          C You the baddest lil ma dit is geen wedstrijd                B Pull up in die S line. Leef je best life Sus Touchdown lil mami pak de next flight B Shawty benimlemisin bu aksam C Önüne kalbimi serip bıraksam B Boynuna pırlantaları taksam C Alman pull up girl araba alman             B Shawty bana baksan                       C Bende yazsam sana bir love song              B Gel omuzuma yaslan                         C Shawty benimle misin bu akşam                   Sus       Bb Dedi ki götür beni aya aya aya             B        C Dedim gidek uzaya aya aya                      Sus        Bb My baby girl she got the faya faya faya               B                   C Bi gelebilsen buraya, hasretinden yana yana yana      B                            C Yanyanaysak bize yazılır destan sayfalarca                          B Yedi yirmidört sevdan kafamda                          C Hem dertler hem derman da yarda                 B    C Bahar doğarken merhabanla      B Her baharda gel savaşma                        C Sevişelim tüm gün canla başla                               B Yanındayken balıklama dalsam aşka                        Sus Uğraşamam başka başka laçkalarla Producer: Spanker Studio Personnel, Mixer, Mastering  Engineer: Shadrach 'Mixed by Chopz' Esprit Associated Performer, Vocals: Murda Associated Performer, Vocals: Ezhel Composer: Tevin Irvin Plaate Author: Önder Dogan Author: Sercan İpekçioğlu Video credits: A Framez Productions Video Director: Jonas Beck Co-director: Milki Abadura Producer: Pearl Minaj, Job Lodder Productie assistent: Kemi Fabiyi, Ramiro Louisa Runner: Sisera van Amstel Opnameleider: Boyke Lubbers D.O.P: Tobias van Daal 1st AC/Focuspuller:Merijn Kanis Movi operator: Tobias van Daal Gaffer: Christian van Marle Bestboy: Timo Eijskoot Visagie: Fatiha Hayat Styling: Nga Ho Styling Styling modellen: AICHE Grador: Leard Muriqi VFX: Serhat Çelikten Special thanks: UBarber Makeover factory Studio18 Shawty bana baksan Bende yazsam sana bir love song Gel omuzuma yaslan Shawty benimlemisin bu aksam Dediki gotur beni aya aya aya Dedim gidek uzaya aya aya My baby girl she got the faya faya faya Bi gelebilsen buraya, hasretinden yana yana yana Murda verse: Shutdown als ik Touchdown ben ik Uptown pull up met die topdown yea Biraksan beni Kalsam geri Olmaz shawty sensiz bu hayat Diamonds op chest like You the best like You the baddest lil ma dit is geen wedstrijd Pull up in die S line Leef je best life Touchdown lil mami pak de next flight Shawty benimlemisin bu aksam Önüne kalbimi serip biraksam Boynuna pirlantalari taksam Alman pull up girl araba alman Verse Ezhel: Yanyanaysak bize yazilir destan sayfalarca yedi yirmidort sevdan kafamda hem dertler hem dermam da yarda bahar dogarken merhabanla her baharda gel savasma seviselim tum gun canla basla yanindayken baliklama dalsam aska ugrasamam baska baska lackalarla Ezhel Ezhel veya Ömer Sercan İpekçioğlu  (d. 1 Temmuz 1991, Çankaya, Ankara), Türk rapçi, şarkıcı ve söz yazarıdır. Yeşil Oda adlı Rap oluşumu ile "Sekiz" adlı şarkısıyla tanınmaya, Sekiz adlı toplama albümdeki "Sekiz" şarkısı, "Rastafaray", "3 gün" ile Sansar Salvo'yla bir düet olan "Gerçek Sandım" gibi şarkılarıyla popülerleşmeye başlamış, 2017 yılında ise Müptezhel adlı Trap Albümü ile en parlak dönemine girmiştir. Murda; Hollanda'nın Amsterdam şehrinde doğmuştur. Babası Ordulu, annesi ise Adanalıdır. Bir dönem yaşantısını İspanya’nın Madrid şehrinde sürdürmüştür. Daha sonra tekrar Hollanda’ya dönmüş ve müzik ile ilgilenmeye başlamış, ilk EP’sini ise 2008 yılında çıkarmıştır. Murda; Bizzey, Kraantje Pappie ve Ronnie Flex dahil birçok ünlü isim ve Hollandalı Hip hop sanatçısı ile çalışmalar yapmıştır. Ezhel ile YouTube sayesinde tanışmışlardır ve Doğan bundan sonra kariyerini Türkiye'de devam ettirme kararı almıştır.

#youtube

[poolnahas]

Stay the night dj snake remix

#Stay the night dj snake remix full

We are a full-service booking entertainment agency for clients hosting corporate events, galas, private events, fundraisers, corporate functions, college concerts, private parties and speaking engagements worldwide.īooking Entertainment can provide world-class celebrity entertainers your next event.

#Stay the night dj snake remix full

DJ Snake continues to record, mix, and collaborate with a number of artists on projects slated for released in the near future.Īs an experienced entertainment booking agency, Booking Entertainment agents represent buyers of big name entertainment, providing pricing fees and full turn key concert events for our clients. Most recently, DJ Snake produced “Do What U Want” and “Applause” for Lady Gaga’s recent album ARTPOP. In addition to “Turn Down for What,” additional singles from DJ Snake include “Together” “Slow Down” (with Spanker and Yellow Claw) and “Get Low” (with Dillon Francis.) DJ Snake has also remixed a number of hits by notable artists, including: “Bubble Butt” (by Major Lazer) “Birthday Song,” “Move Your Feet” (by Junior Senior) “You Know You Like It” (by AlunaGeorge) “Stay the Night” (by Zedd) and “New Slaves” (by Kanye West.) The song rose to the top of the dance chart internationally, eventually rising into the top forty on the mainstream charts in America. Before DJ Snake rose to fame with the recent singles “Turn Down For What” and “Bird Machine,” he produced tracks for Lady Gaga’s album “Born This Way” in 2011, leading to his first Grammy nomination.īut it was the song “Turn Down for What,” released by DJ Snake in late 2013, that rose to popularity after its inclusion in a widely viewed television commercial for Sol Republic. The DJ and producer known as DJ Snake was born William Grigahcine in France.

#Stay the night dj snake remix

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/83268982

Chapter 78 (FINAL)

In this comfortable position, Nick soon fell asleep. But he woke up early, a sign that he was still uneasy. By no means he wanted to oversleep the moment Arthur awoke. Quietly, he got up and went into the bathroom since he needed to knock himself into shape. A short shower later he already felt much better. He combed his stubborn hair as good as he could and submitted himself to a shave, sparing the moustache. It was still sparse, but he hoped it would have the desired effect. Together with Davey's fancy rags he felt more like Nick Lightbearer again.

Then he hurried into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. It wouldn't turn out sumptuous due to their shortage in supplies, but Nick did his best to make it delicious. Eyeing the table, he noticed that something was missing. Something that would make this special. When his searching gaze wandered to the window, he recalled that the front gardens were full of pretty flowers that no one paid attention to, so he went outside and took his pick. He decorated the table with a bright red bouquet and then viewed his own work with delight.

Shortly after, he heard Arthur call for him from upstairs: “Nick! Are you there? Nick?” He sounded upset. Nick liked it. Placing himself at the foot of the stairs, he purred his answer: “I'm right here, darling!” Arthur sighed in relief. At the same time, he felt stupid. Of course Nick wouldn't leave him like that. “Oh...good...”, he stuttered. “I won't be long...” “I'm waiting”, Nick purred back and strutted into the kitchen, cooler than he actually was. He had to calm himself down. When Arthur finally came down the stairs, he stunned Nick with his new outfit by Davey. It really suited him well. “Holy catfish! You look ravishing!” Nick kissed Arthur's hand. “You too...”, Arthur stammered. Nick smiled and skimmed along his upper lip. “You like it?” Arthur instinctively palpated the same spot. “Yes...” His voice was merely a sigh. He lifted up Nick's chin to kiss him. “Is it safe to assume that you're glad to see me?”, Nick asked with a voice as soft as silk. “Yes...”, was everything Arthur could produce.

Nick led him into the kitchen, where he gazed at the well-laid table. “Just sit down, my King. I serve you.” Arthur sat down wordlessly. “I like the flowers...”, he brought out later. “Thanks. I thought it's sad to keep them outside where we can't see them.” He put a mug in front of Arthur. “There you go, my darling.” “Nick, that's...” Nick looked at him, then at the table. “Anything missing?” Arthur almost laughed. “No...” He quickly stood up to lock Nick in his arms. “I really thought you...” He began to sob. “You won't get rid of me that easily, my King”, Nick said softly. “I don't want to get rid of you!”, Arthur sobbed. “I just want to protect you!” “I know. I feel the same”, Nick answered. “But how am I supposed to protect you if I'm not by your side? If you leave me here, you'll break my heart, you hear me? Don't do that!” Arthur pressed his eyes shut, fighting the tears. “I don't know what it is about me...why I'm running away from everyone...” “You lost your old life, too and you're still suffering. I understand. But let me comfort you. I think I made a good impact on you since we met.” “My sunshine...” Arthur smiled faintly.

They passed the time comforting each other. Soon, the town woke up and people became busy again. Also Arthur felt the need to do something. He was visibly fidgety. “Do you want to go back to your documents?”, Nick asked eyeing him. “I don't know...what would you do?” “Come along?” “This is gonna be too boring for you.” “Arthur!” “But it's true!” Nick pondered over it. “The boys said they want to see you.” “Me?” Arthur was surprised. “Yeah...If you like...They like you more than you think. It'll be fun.” “Not if we tell them our plan,” Arthur blurted out. “They need to know. Come on, seeing us like this, they can't help but have an understanding.” Arthur finally complied.

They met a few Wellies on the way, making it look almost like the town was intact again. “Is it still polite to say 'lovely day for it?', Nick asked one of them. “Could be worse”, the other man muttered. “That's true. Keep it bowling.” “You too.” “You know, I still have the feeling that we Wellies stick together”, Nick then said to Arthur. “You look like two Make Believes”, another man approached them. “What if I told you I'm Nick Lightbearer himself?”, Nick joked. “Gosh, Nick Lightbearer!”, the Wellie blurted out. “I wonder where he ended up.” “He's probably about to solve some problems...”, Nick assumed. “Yeah, probably. Good luck, you two.” Arthur was surprised how well he got along with people who would've slaughtered him a few days ago.

When they arrived in the backyard, Nick knocked at the worn out door, eyed by a curious Arthur. Brad opened it. “Ah, Nick, back in good shape, I see.” He slapped Nick's arm. “And Arthur...you look groovy, man.” “Thanks...I have the best supplier here...” He nodded into Nick's direction, who grinned. Brad let them inside. “Come in, get comfortable. The others will be back soon.” “What are they up to?”, Nick asked. “They went back to Maidenholm to fetch some of our stuff. Everything we can't get from the shop you looted.” “Hey, I only borrowed one guitar!” “Sure. You should put him on a leash, Arthur. It would save you a lot of trouble.” “I might think about it”, Arthur joked. “I'd have it's advantages”, Nick agreed. “Having to go wherever you go.” They laughed, but only Arthur and Nick understood the hint. “I suppose you're thirsty?”, Brad asked. “If you can spare something. I know we're low on supplies”, Nick said. “Alright, I'll go check. Make yourself at home.” They sat down on the couch. Nick didn't hesitate to place himself  close to Arthur. “Relax. Now everyone is a Downer, just like you”, he whispered to his tense lover. Arthur gave him a helpless smile.

Then they heard the back door open again. “He'll be all eyes if he sees what we brought along”, they heard Matt say. “Bradley-boy! Look what we got!”, Chris shouted playfully. Passing by the living room he found their guests. “Oh, hello.” “Made a hit?”, Nick asked. “Yeah, just look at all that! It was still there.” Chris unloaded his guitars and equipment. Matt joined him. Nick got up to have a closer look. “How's the state of the place?”, he asked quietly. “Sad”, Chris said in all honesty. “But intact.” He took a deep breath, eyeing his loot, or rather looking at what he saw in his mind. “In fact, we could...” He paused. “But it wouldn't be the same again, right?” “No...” Chris hung his head. Arthur got up too and positioned himself next to Nick. “Oh, Arthur!” Matt noticed him. “If we knew, we would've brought you a typewriter.” “It's fine”. Arthur had to grin at that. “I have one at home.” They shook hands. “Have you seen our drummer by any chance?”, Chris asked. “He went to fetch us a drink”, Nick explained. “You left him alone in the kitchen? Oh dear...” Chris went for him.

“There's still a lot of your stuff left”, Matt said to Nick with an apologizing look. “It's okay. I need to see this place myself anyway.” “By the way...You won't believe who we met there.” “Fans?” “No...Our dear friend Hunt.” “What?”, Nick blurted out. “Hunt? Did you tell him the latest news? “He knows, but he has a hard time letting go of his old post. He was happy to hear you're alive.” “Didn't you offer him to come with you?” “We did, but he said the Parade District isn't safe for Bobbies. He's kinda right...His body height and all...they'd recognise him immediately. Poor bugger.” “But...We can't...I can't leave him there. Arthur, would you go to my old home with me and help me with this?” He looked at his lover with puppy eyes. “If he agrees...” Arthur shrugged. “Thank you. For a Bobby he's a good sort.”

Soon, Brad and Chris came back with the liquids and some snacks. When they were comfortable again and the drinks were served, Chris said: “Well, let's begin with the brutally honest conversation, shall we? Seems to be the new trend.” “I can't believe it's finally over”, Arthur admitted. He felt like a remnant of the old days. Him. As a Downer. “Have you really been a Downer?”, Matt asked as if he could read his mind. Arthur was taken aback by the question at first, eyeing the band as if they'd jump at him. He figured that Nick must've told them. “It's weird to talk about it...just like that...It's weird I don't have to hide...” “How did you hold on?” “I had no choice”, Arthur said with a shrug. “I couldn't just walk out of Wellington Wells, with all the detectors and alarm systems. I had to sneak around, come up with ideas...Coming back here was hard enough, because they dumped me in the Garden District.” “What's so dangerous about the Garden?”, Brad asked. From what he heard in Uncle Jack's shows it was a rather idyllic place where they grew fruits and vegetables and had everything they needed. “Well...there you have the plaque, toxic fog, Ploughboys that love to smash a Downer's head, the other people who are also not very fond of you if you show up in a proper suit, soldiers with bayonets who take you for a Gerry and of course the spankers.” “And the food? Are there any farms there?” “None at all...the people live of what they get to steal from the guards.” “Shit...”

“Wow, you're definitely tougher than you look!”, Chris said. “No offence.” “None taken. I had a lot of luck.” “Aw come on, Arthur, what about the arena-fight you won?”, Nick replied. “Er, that...” Arthur blushed a little. “That was your amazing fighting skills! You should've seen him taking on that white Bobby!” “I had your help there!” Arthur reminded him. “It was still awesome!” “Sounds like you should write a story about yourself.” Brad was impressed. “Perhaps” Arthur grinned meekly. “But I wasn't the only one having problems. The people in the Garden District...those that made it until now...they have a story to tell. “Do they know?” Nick asked. “Did anybody tell them?” “We haven't heard of it”. Matt replied. “I don't think the General cares much for them”, Arthur said dryly. “Or he's still full of Joy.”, Matt added. “No. He doesn't take Joy. Our dear General is above that.” The others were stunned. “No Joy?” Brad asked. “Just like that?” “He's not the only one. Doctor Verloc doesn't take it either.” “Right, he didn't look like he'd take his own drugs. He was much too moody for that.”, Nick approved. Brad leaned back. “That's a bit thick.” “And we played along”, Chris said bitterly.

“But if they knew better than us, why did they let everyone starve?” Matt was upset. “Why did they let us die out?” “I don't know”, Arthur answered. “Perhaps Victoria Byng knows or she'll find out. She's on our side.” “I hope so”, Chris sighed. “Or else we're fucked.” “They can't make us take Joy again”, Brad said sternly. “I rather die in another fight than becoming their slave again!” “Perhaps more Wellies think like that...” Arthur dreamed out loud. “Oh, Arthur, we must look like absolute morons to you! We played along all this time!” Matt eyed the floor. “I wasn't any smarter, believe me. It was pure coincidence that I went off Joy and it could've happened to any of you.” Arthur actually wasn't reproachful for a reason he didn't really understand. “I'm not better than you.” “Well...I guess we can only wait now...”, Brad sighed. “Let's hope it won't backfire”, Chris said. “I don't want a new Committee that kills everyone who dares to smile.” “Don't you have a vivid fantasy!”, Nick blurted out. “Remember me to never let you tell me a bedtime story.” “I'll kill everyone who tries to suppress me.” Brad scowled. “If they dare...” “They can't do that again. They went too far.” Matt was determined now. “They can't prevent us from finding a way out, sooner or later”, Nick pointed out. “Many people are digging in the tunnel or looking for another way...and those who stay won't submit.” “In any case, not us!”, Chris decided. “No way!” Nick agreed. “I won't start now”, Arthur added. “I'm done with it, too”, Matt said. “I want to see them try”, Brad repeated. “We should drink to that!”, Nick cheered. They did with pleasure.

“Now let's dream a bit...”, Chris said some time later. “What if the tunnel opened one day? Where would you go?” Arthur's face fell. “I'll go to Germany...” “Arthur!” Chris shook his head as if he was talking to a stubborn child. “You have to go to France!  Paris! The city of love!” “Or how about the Maldives? Reputedly, people went there on holiday but most likely nobody of us had ever been there,” Matt proposed. “But islands again?” “Pretty islands.” “They remind me too much of this town. I want to go to a place I can easily leave when I have enough.” “So, the moon falls flat”, Brad deadpanned. Chris laughed. “That's not an option.” “How do you know?”, Matt asked. “Perhaps it's already settled and we're the last ones to notice!” Nick gave Arthur a pitiful look while the others were dreaming out loud.

“I have to find my brother...”, the former reporter said quietly. The others fell quiet. “Your brother is in Germany?” Chris had a suspicion. “He was in the train...There's at least ten places where he could have spent his childhood...I need to find him, even if it takes my whole life...” “So, your adventure continues?” Brad asked. “It's not over yet...”, Arthur muttered. “But this time he has me”, Nick announced, putting his arm around his lover and squeezing him. The room was silent for another second. “Well...that's odd...I almost got used to you again”, Chris said to Nick. “How do you plan to get there?”, Brad asked. Arthur and Nick looked at each other. “We don't have a plan yet”, Nick admitted. “We'll figure that out while finding a way off this island”, Arthur added. “Maybe we'll meet there some day...Germans might like music, too”. Nick smiled. “Sure. We become a marching band and learn yodelling...We'll be the greatest stars in Germany,” Chris joked. They laughed.

“Jokes aside, it's not too far away. We'll be close”, Brad stated. “You can visit us any time”, Nick said. “With pleasure, as soon as you moved into your estate on Lake Constance...”, Chris answered. “Not any sooner, eh? Spoilt snobs! I'm glad I don't have to put up with you anymore.” Nick crossed his arms. “Have fun with him, Arthur.” Once again, they laughed over the finality of their decision. Arthur had counted on them to try to change their mind, at least winning Nick over. Instead they had just accepted it. Also Nick hadn't hesitated to tell them his plan. The whole thing looked settled and still Arthur felt unwell.

“What will you do?” “Well...in all honesty...we don't know...or do you?” Brad passed the question to Matt and Chris. “I keep making plans and abandoning them again”, Chris said. “What's to plan anyway?” Matt found. “We don't know the world outside.” “We should collect a few informations before leaving”, Brad said. “We'll come up with something”, Chris assured Arthur. “Don't worry about us. We made a living here and we'll make it outside as well.” “Or we stay until we're filthy rich and go for a world tour”, Matt said. “Then we pick you up.” “I like that plan”, Nick agreed grinning. Arthur let himself get carried away and smiled too, but he was deep in thoughts. “At any rate, you're as stubborn as Nick.” “I take that as a compliment.” Chris laughed. Like this, they had an actually good time. Arthur hadn't had such honest and joyful company in the past few years, but he noticed how Nick and the band understood each other nearly without words. It made him wonder if he even had an equally close bond to Nick.

One time, Nick went into the kitchen to collect replenishments. Chris followed him and suddenly grabbed Nick by the shoulders. “Now you're leaving me, just when I begin to like you, you little bastard!”, he hissed and shook Nick slightly. “Make sure you become a star this time, so I don't have to come back to run the show for you!” Nick replied insistently. “Ah...that's what it's about...” “Exactly! Don't disappoint me, you hear me? Don't think I can't keep an eye on you just because I'm in another country!” Chris nodded. “You'll hear from me.” “I hope so”, Nick said less jokingly. “I'll miss you, little one...” “I'll send you postcards. In German.” “Great...So I can't even read them.” Nick pulled Chris into a short and tight embrace. “What's taking you so long? We're thirsty.” Brad came in. “There comes the gooseberry...” Chris let go and viewed Nick's face. “Any love bruises? No? Good...” “You cheaters!”, Brad shouted. “And Arthur sits right next door, I can't believe it!” Nick quickly backed away from his fellow guitarist. “You're silly, both of you”, he said pouting. “What did I do?” Chris played upset. “You're a bad kisser.” “You prick!” Chris lifted up his hand as if he wanted to slap him. Brad burst out in laughter. Then Matt and Arthur came in. “Don't drink it all alone, we have a guest!”, Matt shouted. When Arthur asked Nick what happened, he only shook his head. It made Arthur doubt their bond even more.

When they went home, Nick was still in a good mood, but it could've been the alcohol, too. “See, it all went well”, he said confidentially. “They're good chaps, they want nothing but our best.” Arthur wondered if Nick had drunk so much for a reason. "They are, but are you really ready to leave them?" "I am! I already told you!" Shortly after, Nick seemed to be sorry for his rough answer because he put an arm around Arhtur's shoulder and softly whispered: "Come, I'll show you something..."

Arthur asked himself if Nick should rather lay down and sober up, but he didn't want to ruin this for him. He let him lead out of town. When they approached the bridge, Arthur tought they'd go back to Hamlyn Village, but then Nick went straight to the handrail and climbed over it. Then he offered his hand for help. Arthur took it with pleasure. He soon understood why Nick brought him here. The place looked similar to their Garden District. It was a rawer landscape, with rocks spread over the meagre grass, but it still had it's magic. A glimpse of freedom that Arthur felt especially at the sight of the ocean. He remembered standing on Britannia Bridge and caught himself wishing he could show it to Nick. Being alone with him like this, enjoying the silence around them, only the rushing of the wind instead of the noise and hubbub that usually surrounded Nick, he suddenly had the feeling that they shared a closer bond that nobody else could break. Nick moved so casually within the silence as if he didn't need anything more. Here, Nick was just himself and seemed to be happy. Arthur noticed just now that he was still holding Nick's hand.

"It's a beautiful place", he said eventually. Nick gave him an eased smile. "I figured it'd be nice to have a moment for ourselves", he said quietly. "I like these moments." "Yeah, me too", Arthur answered just as quietly. Then he bit his lower lip, pondering if he should say what lay on the tip of his tongue. And how. "But would they be enough?", he then dared to ask. Nick didn't answer promptly. He seemed to think about it despite his current state. Arthur was glad that he took the question seriously.

"You know...looking back at my life, at everything that happened to me, everything I still see in my dreams..." Nick paused to gaze into the distance, slowly letting out the air as if he was letting go of a heavy weight. "I like the silence", he concluded and Arthur believed that he was feeling this way right now. "There's a lot I didn't tell you yet, Arthur", he went on and Arthur hung at his every word. His soft voice comforted him. "We spoke about my past with the band a couple of times but for your interviews I could only tell you the good things...I had good times, of course, and I don't want to forget any of them ever again. But in most situations I couldn't make my own decisions. I noticed it in the past few days when I was talking to the lads...I didn't know what was happening around me, I didn't look through other people's plans, I was tossed about by fate, I fell between the cracks...It was always loud around me, I barely had time to think about what happened and what I really wanted. I don't want to live like this anymore. I want to be aware of what I'm doing. I want to make my own decisions. I want to enjoy every minute, just like this very moment. It's gonna be a new start. You gifted me a new life and I want to live it." He said the last words insistently.

Arthur remembered how he found Nick. He had lost control over his life long ago and he had no greater wish than to get it back. It was fitting. "You could try to become famous by your own decisions", Arthur proposed. "I could, but like that I'd only repeat myself", Nick said calmly. "And how it ends, I know that too. I don't know if I want that again...so soon...And if it doesn't work out, I don't know if I can bear to see me fail...It's bringing up so many memories...I want to try something I can't compare myself to." Arthur let his gaze wander along the weathered rocks. "And if you don't like your new life?", he asked quietly. Nick looked at him. "Then I at least tried." Arthur gave a meek smile. He in turn had no greater wish than to take Nick with him, who supported him and cheered him up. But... "We won't be free", he replied. "We'd have to do all it takes to find Percy, no more, no less. We'll have a mission, so to say..." "We'll have a firm goal", Nick said. "A simple, understandable task. That's good." He nodded.

Why did Arthur feel like personificated chaos while Nick kept a clear head? Arthur's head was spinning. He noticed how Nick eyed him from the side. "What is it, Arthur? Tell me the truth. Do you want to leave me?" Arthur's expression was painful. "No, but..." "You think you don't deserve it", Nick said. "You think it's your fault, your problem and you have to go through with it on your own." Arthur almost winced. The analysis was scarily exact. "You showed me that I'm worth loving. Why can't I show you that you deserve to be happy? I want to comfort you when you're sad, I want to support you when you doubt yourself and I want to help you when you're in trouble. Let me do this, if you must, do it for my sake. I need you, Arthur." His green eyes lay on Arthur, who could barely stand the look. He began to shiver. "Nick, I also didn't tell you everything, but I'm afraid I must, or else I can't look into your eyes ever again." Nick fell quiet and waited. Arthur crossed his arms and turned away. "It's my fault that Percy was brought to Germany. He wasn't even on the list, but me...We went to the station together, he wanted to come along, just because he didn't want to abandon me. He was so trusting and didn't fear for himself..." Arthur gulped. "I posed as him....I acted as if I only went along to say goodbye to my younger brother...I made it back out like this, but I saw how they pushed him into the train...he called out for me...he was so afraid..." Arthur fought back tears. "Now I wish I was there..." He fell silent, sobbing and waiting for Nick's judgement.

“How old have you been?” Nick asked quietly. “Twelve....Still young enough for the train And Percy was one year older...” “You've been a child, Arthur.” “I knew exactly what I was doing!” Nick didn't say any more. He hugged him from behind and held him close. Arthur clung to Nick's arms. “Why are you doing this?”, he asked after a while, letting go and eyeing Nick meekly. “Aren't you upset?” “Just look at you”, Nick answered. “You're not a child anymore. The man who's standing in front of me now wouldn't do this.” “But it still happened...” “You changed”, Nick insisted. “If it wasn't for you I couldn't judge you in the first place.” Nick kissed his cheek. “I'm glad you're here.” “It's not about me, Nick! I have to find him! I should've never dragged you into this!” Arthur winded. “And what do you do if you find him?” “I'll think about that later.”

“Arthur...Percy isn't a child anymore...He's leading his own life by now...Who'll keep you company if you find him and suddenly lose your only purpose in life? Who'll give your life a new meaning?” Arthur hung his head. “And if he didn't make it?” “Also then”, Nick said without mercy. “Who'll comfort you?” Arthur struggled to hold back tears. He wondered how on earth he deserved such a stubborn and affectionate man at his side. He couldn't simply push him away. “Nick, if you don't like it anymore, if you believe you made a mistake, you can go! You can go anytime!” Nick put his hands back on Arthur's shoulders. “This is an offer I can accept...”, he said quietly. He ran his hands along his upper arms, making Arthur's body tingle at the sensation. With Nick, he just didn't feel like he'll end up as shark bait while Nick drank margaritas on a desert island. Nick wouldn't give up on him, search the entire ocean if he had to and take him back to his island. Arthur already felt like he was there. He leaned closer to Nick and for a long while nothing happened other than their extensive kissing. Then Nick sat down on the grass and looked up to Arthur, inviting. “Here? Now?”, Arthur hissed. Nick took his hand and pulled him down.

Lying in the grass, Arthur found his body covered in kisses. Nick was eager to spoil every spot of him. Arthur's cheeks were salty from the tears he had shed, but Nick kissed them all away. Arthur winded giggling and gasping. His body tickled and his heart fluttered. The grass was cold, so was the air, but Nick's love bites warmed him. When his heated blood pounded in his veins, he pressed Nick down. He adored the soft foam that was growing along his upper lip, that would soon be a full Lightbearer moustache, and caressed it with his lips, before he placed a craving kiss on it. He wasn't shy with his tongue anymore. He wasn't shy with almost anything, causing Nick emit a noise that sounded like a purr. Then it was time for Arthur to redden Nick's skin with his teeth. Nick gasped, running his hands along Arthur's tights. Arthur bit him gently, his tongue massaged the sour spots right after. Arthur thanked him with every kiss, every gesture, overwhelmed by the promise he had just made.

Nick was so happy, he felt butterflies all over his body and his heart was about to jump out of his chest. He adored to see his Arthur in action and was looking forward to many, many more moments like this. With pleasure he felt Arthur expose him and skim along his lower back without shame. Nick moaned just as shamelessly when he felt Arthur shove a finger inside him. His body shivered, he pressed himself against it, begging Arthur to massage him. His blood was pounding in the right spot as his lover went along.  Aroused like this, Arthur felt ready. He held Nick close while his thrusts massaged him more. Nick's quiet whimpers were music to his ears. Arthur climaxed quietly, with his hands curled into Nick's hair and his head pressed against his chest. He relaxed like that for a while, receiving kisses on his head from Nick. Then he began to feel the chill on his naked skin and decided to put his clothes back on. Nick followed him shortly after.

They walked home slowly and peacefully, with their arms wrapped around each other, holding themselves as if the could barely stand. At the bridge, Arthur promptly lifted Nick up and carried him over the rail. Nick's expression after putting him back down was priceless. In town they walked next to each other as if they were friends, but if someone had paid attention to their looks they would've known better. At home, they both had a hot bath before they put themselves to bed.

The next day, Arthur didn't intent to wake Nick up early. His lover was most likely exhausted after everything he had been trough. Arthur himself was tired as well. The day wasn't quite inviting either, being cloudy and dark. The drizzle moistened the windows with tiny drops. It was the perfect weather to stay inside, have a hot chocolate and relax. But Arthur was still restless. He didn't feel well, just sitting around and hoping for the best. He was used to nothing good happening as long as he didn't do it himself. That was why he sat at his kitchen table, absorbed in his thoughts and forgetting to drink his coffee. The house was so quiet he could hear the clock ticking that hang on the wall next to the fridge. The radio had stopped playing the happy jingle that would normally start every day in Wellington Wells. He could just as well bin it, but he hesitated to change anything in this house. To make himself comfortable in it. After all, it was supposed to be only a stopover before they would go on their journey. But to make it that, he had to do something. After Arthur had walked back an forth in between the kitchen and the living room for a while, he couldn't bear it any longer. He wrote a letter to Nick and put it next to him on his pillow. He hoped to be back before his long sleeper woke up. Then he put on his coat, opened the brolly with the colourful pattern and went outside.

Nick woke up much later, feeling cosy, lolling and stretching out. He was completely refreshed. He remained in the bed a little while longer after noticing that Arthur had already gotten up, listening if he could hear him downstairs. It was very quiet. No footsteps, no clanking of the dishes, only the silent pattering of raindrops on the window. Nick sat up, thereby noticing the letter.

Nick darling, I'm on the move again. I need to make sure we're getting out of here. Don't worry about me and take a rest. I'll be back soon. I love you! Arthur

Nick stared at it. It sounded loving, of course, and not if Arthur had had any bad intentions. Still, it bothered him. Nick was sure that he couldn't expect Arthur to wait for him to awake from his sleeping beauty sleep, and Nick had been really tired, he admitted that. Still...why couldn't they go together? Was it really too necessary to wait? Did Arthur fear that Nick would spoil it? Or be bored? Nick rumpled the paper and let it fall on the table. What are you doing to me, Arthur?, he thought sadly. Then he told himself he should trust him. That he had a good reason to do it. That there'll be a good explanation for all this. He sighed. However, he was alone now. Take a rest. How was he supposed to relax while Arthur was out there facing who knows what? He just had to play the hero again.

Nick left the bed. He couldn't sit around and wait anyway. He needed a distraction and perhaps he could even do something useful as well. On the way downstairs he remembered Hunt. Of course, his Bobby, who in a way was also his friend. If Arthur couldn't help him, he had to do it on his own. He couldn't leave poor Hunt to rot in his old home. He left a note for Arthur and went into the cold and moistly weather.

This time he went to the bridge to actually cross it. He knew the way by heart, still it felt strange. Walking by the counter where normally a Constable would control the passports, he found it empty. He went along the bridge all alone, then Maidenholm greeted him in all it's silence. It looked like a ghost-town.  Nobody had cleaned up this place. Old newspapers lay in puddles or flew by in the wind. He saw rats gathering the leftovers from the pantries of the houses. The gardens were abandoned, all windows closed. In his best days, Nick had known every face in his district. A few of them had been in the church. He could only guess where the rest had ended up. How many of them had been chased into the Garden District, without him noticing? The rainbow-coloured road looked more pale than he remembered. All houses had been more colourful as well. Did he only imagine this? Still, the town could be beautiful. Perhaps this place would be populated again. He would definitely bring it up next time he was in the church.

His own home after all occurred dusky and not very welcoming to him, even though he had liked visitors in the old days. The red carpet was greasy. The former bright red was vaguely perceptible. Nick made a few steps until he noticed that someone sat in front of the door, cowering and visibly sleeping. Under the canopy he was protected from the rain, but still it must be cold and uncomfortable. The uniform definitely had seen better days. He had taken off his helmet and the blonde hair told Nick that it was indeed Hunt.

“Hunt?”, Nick tried. When the man didn't answer, Nick grabbed his shoulder and shook him a bit. The man finally awoke with a grunting noise and then looked around frantically. He seemed to back away from Nick, even though his body was already pressed against the door. “Don't worry, it's just me, Nick”, Nick reasoned with him. “The band told me you're here.” “Nick?”, Hunt stammered. “Mr. Lightbearer?” His eyes widened and he went back up on his feet. He grabbed his arm tightly, so that it stung. “I'm so happy to see you alive!” “You know, a cat has nine lives...”, Nick played it down, massaging his arm. “What are you doing here?” “Er...well...” He shrugged. “I don't really have another place to go...I'm lucky enough, escaping the Parade and all...Here, it's a safer place for the likes of me.” “Perhaps the Parade calmed down. People stopped fighting and they have other worries now.” “Yeah, Mr. Reid told me something like that, too. You know, it's different with the other Wellies. They didn't know what they did...” “You neither.” “Blackberry Joy isn't the same as normal Joy. It doesn't make you forget...We had to keep a clear head. Who else could push through law and order?”, Hunt admitted contritely, leaning against the door and hiding his face. “I knew and I only watched...” “You couldn't stop that easily”, Nick opposed. Hunt gave another shrug and made a helpless sound. “You only guarded my house!”, Nick said with emphasis. “Yeah...after working night shifts for a long time...I can't get the bloody jingle of the Jubliators out of my head...” Nick understood how he felt. “You don't have to torture yourself though. Go inside and warm up.” “My place is out here.” “From now on you have a larger field! Go inside and warm up, that's an order!” He raised a smile from the taller man. “Well...won't do any harm...”

Nick followed him inside. “Oh”, he noticed. “We should let some air in...” “Aye, sir.” “Has it always been that dusty?” Nick remembered that his last charlady had given up months ago. Besides that, everything looked the same. Nick ascended the stairs to his bedroom and looked inside. The same as always. Nick was suddenly undecided about what he intended to do here. He gave his golden records a wistful look. He'd miss them probably. But what use would they be in Germany? Then he recalled something else that was located in this floor. Back in the corridor, he opened a door to a smaller bedroom. It took a lot of effort to go inside. Too many memories were collected here, shattered dreams and pain. But also one memory he wanted to keep. He went to the desk and lifted up the little frame, not without looking at the photo as well. Arthur would allow it, right? It was his past after all. Nick put the frame into his pocket and left the room with a heavy heart. Before he closed the door, he hesitated. He felt like Morrie had called out for him. But that was impossible. Surely, it was only a plank that had creaked. He finally closed the door. In the second floor he found his iconic blue guitar and shouldered it. Then he had everything he wanted.

Back downstairs, he found his Constable sitting at the kitchen table in a sunken down position. The window was open. The look Hunt gave him made Nick ask: “Do you really want to stay here?” “I want the old days back, when this place was full of life.” “Now the Parade is where the action is. You could try to find a new home there. I can help you.” “And I could guard you...on you way back...yeah, I could do that...” The tall man stood up and closed the window. Nick was pleased with himself. Stepping outside, he took a deep breath, waiting for the Bobby. Hunt locked the door when he went out. Nick asked himself if anyone would loot this house. If so, they'd probably look for food. Who would still care about Nick's underwear?

Walking through Maidenholm, the district was as empty as it had been before. No one crossed their path. To the empty counter Hunt said: “Ah, Constable Johnson...well...He's always been kind of an arse...I guess he had it coming...” “He could be in the Parade”, Nick replied. “Maybe...”, Hunt said less optimistically. In the Parade District however they met multiple Wellies and received their mistrust. “Where do you think you're going?” Nick placed himself in front of Hunt. “We can go wherever we like. Did you forget?” “That doesn't apply for his kind”, the Wellie glared at Hunt. “He's clearly a Bobby! He doesn't even try to hide it!” “We don't want any Bobbies here!”, another man approached them. “And also no friends them!”

“You don't have to be afraid of him”, Nick persisted. “Hunt did no more than guarding my home for years. He's a good guy.” “Guarding your home?” The Wellie spit on the cobblestone. “That's neat. Must've been some big shot to afford this. Maybe Executive Committee?” “No, I'm not that relevant. I only lived in Maidenholm.” “So what? That doesn't prove anything! Your Bobby is making you suspicious!” “I never had any power! I'm just a musician!” For the first time they took notice of his outfit “You're a Nick Lightbearer lookalike?” “No, I'm Nick Lightbearer himself.” That made them fall quiet for a second. “Nick Lightbearer, eh? The one who distracted us with jolly tunes while we were starving?” “Who told us to take Joy with his songs?” “Who led us to believe everything was right as rain?” The Wellies came closer, not any less angry than before. More joined them. Hunt gave Nick a questioning look, but Nick shook his head. “I didn't know better than you! I took Joy just like all of you! What was wrong about cheering you up? That's what I always wanted, long before  we started to take Joy! I never meant to force you into anything and as long as some of you like my music, I'll play it!” “Nick Lightbearer?”, another Wellie shouted. “That's Nick Lightbearer?” More Wellies came and the atmosphere shifted drastically. Suddenly, the thugs were outnumbered. “Alright, you won for now. But if we catch your Bobby red-handed...”, one of them implied before he took to his heels. “Nicky! Sing a song for us! We love you, Nick!” Hunt looked at him again. “Are we running now?”

Nick agreed and soon they ended up far away from the bridge. They escaped the fans and carefully made their way to the alley of the Make Believes. “I'd like to take you to my place, Hunt, but it's too close to the main road. We better hide in the band's house for now.” “So, you split up again?” “We're still friends. It's just...I'm living with Arthur now. You remember him?” Hunt didn't have to think for long. “The friendly reporter?” “Yes, him.” “Would he want a Bobby close-by?” “He doesn't have much of a choice, now that my fans know I'm alive”, he joked. “Chin up, you're a good chap, believe it or not.”

Brad answered the door again. “Hey, uh...could we hide in your house for a while?” Nick pointed at his company. Brad understood. Inside, he asked: “How bad is it?” Hunt and Nick eyed each other. “It's me...I got recognised...” Nick scratched his head. Promptly, someone knocked at the door. Nick and Hunt winced. Brad set himself into motion again. He was surprised to find a complete stranger outside. “I'm sorry...May I speak to Mr. Lightbearer? I really need to see him!” “I'm sorry too, here's no Mr. Lightbearer!” Brad slammed the door shut. “How many followed you?”, he shouted walking back to Nick. “Nobody”, Nick said meekly. “I can confirm that, Mr. Wilson! Nobody escapes my eager eyes. This fan eluded me!” “Brad?”, they heard Matt's voice. He came running down the stairs. “Brad? Have you seen the crowd in our front garden?” He came into the living room and found Nick and Hunt being abashed. “Oh, no! Are they after you, Hunt?” Brad crossed his arms. “They want Nick.” Matt looked at the still famous enough star who smiled helplessly. Outside, the crowd began to call for their idol. It wasn't long until Chris ran into the room. “What makes them think Nick is here?” Then his gaze fell on Nick and drew the conclusion. “Why am I not surprised?” “We should've been more cautious about his outfit”, Brad commented. The Wellies began to knock at the door again. “Nick! Sing a song for us!”

“Should we wait until they bugger off?” Matt wasn't convinced himself. “I can go, then you're free”, Nick offered. “They'll tear you apart!”, Brad shouted. “Why not?”, Chris muttered. Brad gave him a look. Chris ignored it and approached Nick. “If they want a spontaneous show, why not giving them one?” “Can we?” Nick asked without hesitation. It seemed to be the easiest way out. “Yeah, we got everything from your house.” “And how do we keep them from breaking in to see us?” Matt wanted to know. Chris thought about it. “We have a flat roof we can access...people could see us there.” “Is that safe?”, Hunt asked. “I'm not excited about fighting off the poor sods who climb up the walls.” “It's quite high. Nobody should climb up there”, Brad mused. “So, it's settled?”, Chris asked. “Hell, yeah!”, Nick shouted. They hurried while Hunt locked all doors and windows. When the band finally arrived at the roof the crowd went wild. “Did anybody see my Joy?”, Nick asked, seemingly nervous. The others stared at him. “I'm kidding.” Nick grinned Their first song rang out in the entire district.

Arthur couldn't express how he felt when finally the light came through. The dark tunnel that had occurred to him as if it lay hundreds of miles below ground level, an unscalable prison for every Skipper, suddenly lit up. Little fluffs danced in the air, glittering like diamonds. For a while it was silent. The rain had stopped and in the bright blue sky above them they saw fluffy white clouds pass by. Then the noise broke loose. The workers cheered, danced, cried out their relief. It was infectuous. Arthur had to laugh too, patting other Wellie's shoulders. They made it! Finally! He could see the fatigue of multiple sleepless nights in their eyes. It had been worth it.

Arthur slowly progressed, walking by the celebrating Wellies, but as soon as he was alone again, he ran as fast as he could, following the rails. He climbed out of the ravine and abruptly came to a halt. The whole town was emptied. He had feared that a crowd would scramble for the tunnel, but no one had noticed. From afar, he heard music that, after a further analysis, couldn't come from a radio. Was that...? Arthur's heart pounded after running and climbing. Or was it because of the music? He followed it and after a while, he met Wellies walking into the same direction. “Oh, no...” The crowd was getting bigger. They were all here, looking up for some reason. Further away, on a roof, Arthur recognised Nick. He was back in his element. Without Joy. Arthur was proud of him, but he also felt melancholic. Did it change everything?

Arthur wanted to reach him before anyone else noticed that the tunnel was open, but his gaze wandered helplessly along the masses. It was impossible to get through there. And then he couldn't simply walk through the door without letting everyone in. But wait...wasn't that the same house...? Sure, why would they carry their instruments any further? Arthur went a devious route, always watching out for fans, until he arrived in the backyard. But of course the door was locked. At first he knocked, but as expected, nothing happened. Who was supposed to hear it anyway? Desperately, he hammered against the door, fearing to alarm the whole district. “It's me, Arthur! Let me in!” When he felt ridiculous already, someone actually opened. It was a very tall man. The white shirt and blue trousers seemed to be the remnants of a uniform. “Arthur? Mr. Hastings?” Arthur gasped. “C...Constable Hunt?” The old escape reflex kicked in, but Hunt grabbed in and pulled him inside. Then he looked the door again, securing it with a chain around the handle and a dresser shoved in front of it. “I need to see Nick...” He felt the need to explain. “Go ahead, he's on the roof.”

Arthur ran upstairs. His heart was still pounding. When he heard that they had just finished a song, he went outside. Carefully avoiding the cables, he made his way to Nick who was talking to the other guitarists. Arthur put a hand on his shoulder, making Nick wince and turn around. Arthur's expression alarmed him, so he put the guitar down and followed him back inside. Nick waited for him to speak, so Arthur blurted out: “The tunnel is open!” “Wha...really?” Nick began to beam. “You made it?” “Come, I show you”, Arthur said. Or was it more likely a question? “You want to leave now?” Nick looked startled. “No, only show you, before they realise it and the place gets crowded.” Arthur's eyes begged. It seemed like Nick would only reluctantly go. Arthur prepared for a refusal when Nick said: “Okay. Just let me give the word.” With that, he went to talk to the band, but came back shortly after with an expectant look. Arthur was looking forward to leave this noisy place and he was even happier that Nick went with him. They sneaked out of the backyard after Hunt had opened up for them and went another devious route, hiding and watching. “This is like the old days”, Nick whispered gleefully.

Like this, they reached the ravine and climbed inside. Nick had never thought they'd conquer this again. From the bottom up it looked less intimidating. When they went into the tunnel, Nick began to feel a little queasy, watching the ceiling as if it could collapse any second. Arthur noticed and took his hand. Nick gave him a thankful look, then they went on. Nick's footsteps were more determined now. He was also surprised when the tunnel lit up and couldn't avert his gaze from the beams of sunlight breaking through. He stared at the sky just as stunned as Arthur had been, at least he found that there was a certain resemblance. But this time, Arthur took the first steps towards the light. He still held Nick, who cautiously climbed after him. Back outside, also Arthur was overwhelmed. The horizon was bright and clear. He could look much further than before. The land that had been purely black and vaguely shaped, now exposed a coastal cliff, meadows and forests. The bridge went all the way to there, it's end vanished somewhere in the distance.

“Wow!”, Nick produced. “This is the mainland? Just like that?” He pointed at the horizon. Arthur nodded. “And you wanted to go all the way on foot?” Nick pointed at the bridge and grinned. Arthur had to grin, too. He went a few steps with Nick, until they were surrounded by nothing but the ocean. Arthur rested his elbows on the handrail and Nick did the same. “Do you smell that? No Motilene, no chemical waste...” Arthur took a deep breath. Nick closed his eyes and breathed in as well. “This is the real world, huh?”, he asked after enjoying the fresh air. “Yeah...a part of it...” “Can't wait to see more...”, Nick whispered. Arthur was happy to hear that. He beamed at Nick. “And from here you came back to me?” Nick turned around, leaning his back against the rail in a nonchalant manner. The wind had already ruffled his hair. Arthur would've loved to take a photo of him now. “Yeah...”, Arthur felt flattered. “It must've been hard for you.” “Actually, it wasn't...I couldn't leave you like that...” “You have a way of disappearing and coming back...” Arthur smiled helplessly, clutching the rail.

Nick eyed the stony floor, pondering. “Arthur...”, he then said. His tone alarmed Arthur. “Why did you leave me this morning?” Nick gave him an urgent look. Arthur stared at the horizon. “Because...because I had to do this alone...” “You wanted to punish yourself again?” “No...You were tired...You needed to rest and I didn't plan to be gone for long...Then one thing led to another and...I'm sorry...” “So you wanted to protect me?” “Yeah...” “Why?” “Just look at you!”, Arthur shouted desperately. “I can't let anything happen to you!” “You put yourself in danger?” Nick became louder. “No!”, Arthur quickly replied. “Well...not more than usual...Nick, I have to put myself in danger every day! Me and...others to....But you...I can't let anything happen to you...”

“Arthur, this is over! You're not a Downer anymore, nobody's chasing you for what you are and you're not alone! I understand that you're used to this, but we have to move on! I'm not a spoiled rockstar you have to spare! I'm your partner! You hurt me when you run off all alone! The tunnel could've collapsed! Your old boss could've changed her mind and kidnapped you! And I wouldn't know where you are! How could you do this to me?” Arthur couldn't come up with a good answer. “The worst you can do to me is disappearing, you hear me? If you put yourself in danger, I want to be at your side! I want to know where you're going if we really have to split up!” Nick had shouted the last words. He was really upset. Arthur hadn't seen him so angry before. “I'm sorry, Nick...I didn't think about it this way...I just had to do something...I'm sorry, please don't tell me I fucked this up...” Arthur was at the edge of tears. Nick promptly embraced him, noticing how much he needed it himself. “Ssshh...don't panic...I still love you...” They held still like this and and slowly calmed down.

“Don't do it again, okay?”, Nick said quietly. “Okay...I promise...”, Arthur whispered meekly. “It's hard not to see you as a star...” “But you've seen my real self...” Nick recalled something. “It's the name, right?” His face fell. “I know your name isn't 'Lightbearer'”, Arthur disagreed. His partner averted his gaze. “But it's also not 'Nick'.” Arthur was really taken aback. It felt so natural to call him 'Nick'. No other name seemed to fit. He even looked like a 'Nick'. “I never meant to keep it a secret. You have the right to know the truth, but there never was a fitting moment...” He faced Arthur again. “My name is Norbert. Norbert...Pickles...If you need to laugh, just do it...” Nick crossed his arms, dropped his gaze and waited. Arthur wouldn't be the first. Some people knew his name, from gossip or any other source. Their reaction was mostly the same. “I don't know why I should laugh...It's just a name.” Arthur came closer. “It never bothered me...But after years of being The Lightbearer...”, Nick explained and shook his head. “It's hard to look at it the same way again.” He looked back up to his lover. “You don't have to use it...But you can...Just do as you like...” Arthur felt that he'd need a while to get used to it. Still, he felt that the other man had just tightened their bond. “Thank you for telling me the truth...Even thought you're still 'Nick' to me...” “Thanks for not laughing.” Nick smiled his adorable smile. Arthur cupped his cheeks and kissed his hair.

They enjoyed their moment some more before they started back. Arthur was glad not to meet anyone yet. Back in town, they still heard The Make Believes perform. “Good idea...that concert...people love it”, Arthur stuttered. “We didn't really have a choice.” Nick chuckled. “It doesn't change anything?” Arthur eyed him carefully. “Nothing at all”, Nick confirmed. They silenced, listening. “Do you want to finish it?”, Arthur asked. “If you agree?” Nick didn't urge him. Arthur smiled meekly. “Just go for it, my Golden God.” He gave him a slap on the lower back. “I'll take care of you when you come home.” Nick beamed and ruffled Arthur's hair. “Until then, my tall boy.” After a passionate kiss, Nick hurried to join his band.

Arthur stayed outside for a while, watching Nick proudly, then he obeyed his tired body and went home. There he prepared for his journey, at least emotionally. He realized that not only Nick left his old life here, but also himself and he looked for something  to keep. After deciding for the medal that he had brought from his former hideout and the documents about Percy he had to keep anyway, he put the few objects on his night table and lay down on his bed. A few moments later he dropped off.

Nick was excited. The noise of their last song was still ringing in his ears. The last applause had doped him. And now this! He had to tell Arthur! His rash footsteps echoed in the night, but he wasn't afraid. The show had ended long ago and the fans had gone back home. Out of breath, he reached Arthur's home and hurried into the corridor. There, the light was out. “Arthur?” He flicked it back on. Nick assumed his lover was already in bed. He ran up the stairs. Also the upper floor was dark. In the second floor, the light went on and a sleepy Arthur appeared at the stairs. “Nick, is that you?” Nick stormed up the stairs and span his lover around who yelped adorably. “Pack up your things, my King! We're going to Germany!”, he shouted and kissed Arthur wildly. Greeted like that, Arthur had to catch his breath. “Nicky, I'm glad you're so motivated.  No need to exaggerate though, it's not going to be a fun journey”, he said but laughed nonetheless. “Oh, yes, it is! I know how we get there!” “Really?” Arthur's eyed widened. “You better sit down.” Nick shoved him back into his bedroom and placed him on the bed. Arthur stared at him while Nick shortly searched for words.

“After we told the boys our plan, they went looking for opportunities. They met Birdie today who has a similar problem.  Her manager is looking for ways out of here and you won't believe what he found out! Germans actually love beat music and he's already in contact with a club there! He'll organise it all...the journey...the night stop...Isn't that fantastic?” Arthur was overwhelmed once more. Their whole impossible, lonely journey, suddenly simplified? On the one hand, he was fascinated about how fast Nick came up with a solution. It was another reason to have him at his side. On the other hand, it had an unpleasant connotation.

Arthur's silence worried Nick. “What's wrong?” His lover made a pained face. “So, you'll stay with the band...” “No, you got me wrong.” Nick sat down next to him. “I'll stay with you.” “How is this going to work?” “We're travelling with the band, because it's the easiest way out. Also, we'll need money and a place to sleep. And then...” Nick shrugged. “The rest is our adventure.” Arthur pondered. “Come on, is it easier to find Percy completely without resources or help?” Nick tried a joke. “What if he'll become a fan?” Arthur had to grin even though he doubted it. “And what if you don't want the silence anymore?” “You mean, if I don't want you anymore?” Nick leaned closer and tenderly kissed Arthur's cheek. “Then I must be the biggest dumbass in the world,” he whispered close to his ear. Arthur's resistance melted away. He accepted another loving kiss from Nick.

They had a very emotional night, dwelling in dreams and wishes. They slept together and then left the house for a night walk. It was the greatest conquest of their new freedom that they could enjoy the night without fear, at least that's what Nick thought. Also Arthur appeared to be ravished by the starry sky. “It's really pretty”, he sighed. “Everything is pretty as long as you're by my side”, Nick purred, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder. “Yeah...” Arthur had to chuckle. “Alright, I believe you!...you won...! I believe you!” “Finally!” Nick shouted out loud. He went a few steps forward, spread his arms and yelled: “My man believes I love him!” “Sssshh!”, Arthur hissed and laughed. “You're crazy...” “Yes, I am”, Nick confirmed. “But happy.” He fell back into Arthur's arms. “Me too...”, Arthur said and hugged him tightly. “Me too...” They stayed outside until sunrise.

#we happy few #whf #wehappyfew #nick lightbearer #nicklightbearer #whfnicklightbearer #nickxarthur #whfarthurhastings #whfarthur #arthur hastings we happy few #themakebelieves #whfthemakebelieves #fanfiction #this is it #this is really #it's over #thanks for all the likes #thanks for the nice comments in the tags #and thanks for your amazing fanart #this has been a fun journey #I'm not crying you're crying

[pascalspanker]

La variedad de castigos es casi ilimitada y está solamente ligada a la creatividad del Dominante. No voy a entrar en una lista detallada de todas las posibles opciones, pero restringiré mis comentarios a unas pocas pautas.

Si recordamos la definición, un castigo es válido solamente si conlleva una pena o un sufrimiento por parte de la sumisa. De lo contrario, no tiene sentido

La forma más común de castigo es la imposición de un trauma físico. Esto puede manifestarse desde lo simple a lo complejo, desde el azote a cualquier dolor físico o psíquico. Sin embargo, no existe nada que exija la aplicación de un dolor físico con el fin de satisfacer los requisitos de un castigo.

Como se sabe la sumisa masoquista a menudo desea el dolor físico. Incluso las sumisas que no son de naturaleza masoquista, a veces, hablan de lo mucho que disfrutan siendo azotadas o flageladas, de cómo las transportan a su “espacio de sumisión”. Además, algunos Dominantes, que son también sádicos, pueden estar demasiado ansiosos por encontrar “errores” en el comportamiento de sus sumisas para poder tener una excusa con que “castigarlas.”

Pero, cuando le das a alguien una cosa que produce placer, entonces, por definición, no puede ser un castigo. Es una recompensa. De ahí el estereotipo de “Oh, mí Amo, he sido una mujer tan mala. Merezco ser azotada. Castígueme.” Este tipo de conducta típicamente termina en sexo y, por lo tanto, incluso, es más una recompensa.

Claramente, esto tiene poco que ver con el castigo. Esto es un juego. Utilizar esto como una forma de castigo, solo hace reforzar la conducta negativa. Además, pondrá en peligro la relación de poder entre el Dominante y la sumisa. Cuando ésta quiere llamar la atención, simplemente no cumplirá una norma y espera la respuesta deseada. Esto pone el poder en manos de la sumisa, donde no debe estar y, en última instancia, llevará a la insatisfacción de la sumisa y al fracaso de la relación.

Por lo que podemos concluir que, usar el dolor físico como castigo en una sumisa masoquista no es recomendable. Para la sumisa no masoquista, azotarla de una forma u otra es aceptable bajo ciertas circunstancias. Pero, hay que tener cuidado de recordar que el castigo no tiene nada que ver con el sexo, y para concluir, una sesión con castigo físico y  con sexo es contraproducente para los fines de los castigos.

Los Dominantes que recurren al látigo para cada infracción no están actuando de una manera responsable. No sólo indica una falta de imaginación por parte del Dominante, pues si sólo hay una forma de castigo para todas las infracciones, entonces, la sumisa no tiene manera de evaluar la objetividad de la tarea. La intensidad del castigo debe estar relacionada con la importancia de la disciplina o con la norma que ha sido incumplida.

Cuando he entrenado, siempre he intentado adecuar el castigo con el incumplimiento. Una técnica clásica es la inversa. Por ejemplo, si una sumisa deja de seguir una disciplina después de advertirlo tres veces, entonces, el castigo tendría que anunciarse en primera persona durante algún período de tiempo. Cada vez que ella abre su boca, se le debería recordar su fallo. Otro ejemplo, quizás una sumisa no sirviera la comida correctamente. El castigo podría ser prohibirla servir la comida durante un cierto tiempo. Ver a su mismo Dominante sirviendo, sería un castigo suficiente.

Algunas infracciones son más graves y requerirán un castigo significativo. Por ejemplo, no proporcionar un servicio adecuado a los invitados. Esto refleja una mala imagen del Dominante. El castigo por esta falta requerirá algo más que un latigazo o un severo azote. Puede entrañar confinamiento, denegación de servir e incluso reaprendizaje. De esta manera, ella es consciente de lo que es fundamental para su Dominante...

Pascal Spanker.

[bigayehmedia-blog]

King Promise-ChopLife-Ft-Patoranking-Prod By. Spanker.

King Promise-ChopLife-Ft-Patoranking-Prod By. Spanker.

King Promise unfold this catchy and lovely single tagged ChopLife which he features Nigeria’s dancehall star, Patoranking. Produced by Spanker. Also Check: eNews: Black Sherif Is Coming On Tour With Me – Burna Boy [audiomack background=”1″ src=”https://audiomack.com/embed/song/kingpromise/choplife”%5D

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#Afrobeats #King Promise #Patoranking

[musicwhip]

VIDEO: STONEBWOY – Good Morning

VIDEO: STONEBWOY – Good Morning

Ghanaian dancehall star; Stonebwoy shares the music video for his; Good Morning song. The record features; Chivv and produced by; Spanker.  

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#Chivv #Good Morning #Spanker #STONEBWOY

[jessikahathaway]

Crimson Grail - Part II

DO NOT OWN THE PICTURE

Heyo, another chapter from me. 

Please enjoy!

The hot sun burned your skin as you pushed the mop over the deck.

You had been at sea for around about a month, and you had been working hard for your keep. The waves rocked the ship and you were always lulled to sleep by that same rocking, every night.

Sometimes it felt like a mistake to leave the city of Albion… But what choice did you have? Growing old, working as a barmaid the rest of your life? Possibly having to sell your body just to stay alive?

No. That wasn’t what your life was going to be. Your life was going to mean something. It was going to be full of purpose and adventure.

You weren’t going to be a simpleton, slaving away in a tavern for the rest of your life, hoping that one day you die a peaceful death.

If you were going to die, let it be with a sword through your heart on the great wide sea. She’d take you in her depths as you sunk to the bottom, willing to sleep for the rest of eternity with the waves.

But, for right now, mopping seemed to be the only thing that you had to worry about. It wasn’t nearly as exciting that you were planning for it to be. But it was better than that stinking tavern.

Suddenly, your bucket tipped over as a few men chuckled at the sight.

“Sorry.”

Came as the response to the mess you were now left with.

“Astor! How can you mop with your bucket overturned like that! Get more water and get back to work! I don’t want to see you lollygagging!”

The sound of Jin’s voice brought you out of your stupor. You rushed to get more water, and noticed there was none where you had left it.

You turned to see another one of your crew mates sitting on your other buckets

“Sorry, Lad, must’ve spilled.” He said with a grimy smile.

This kind of behavior had been going on for a while now. It was true when Jin said that he had all the crew he needed when he accepted you onto the ship. That meant that food was a bit smaller for everyone. And since you were the last on the be brought aboard, that means you were the last one recruited.

And that means you’re the subject to all the abuse they can produce.

However, not all your crew mates were dogs. There were a few who were kind enough, let you sleep in a few times and do your morning chores for you. They knew you weren’t used to the sea, but, they also weren’t going to protect you when it came down to their own skin.

It was a fair enough trade, though, you could only blame yourself if you got hauled off this ship. You sighed and left the mop where it was. The walk back to deck was rather short, knowing you were about to get blighted.

As you approached the helm, a thought popped into your head.

Why was Captain Min not manning the helm? Isn’t that the Captain’s job?

“What’s got your mind all fuddled lad?” A crew member, you’d learned to be Greaves, asked.

“I was just thinking; why don’t we ever see our Captain at the helm? Isn’t that where he should be?” You asked.

Greaves chuckled slightly and smacked his hand on your back. You winced in pain, but hid it well.

“You see my boy; we have never seen Captain Min since the day we set sail from Albion. However, I have been about the Grail longer than most, and I have seen Captain Min. And let me tell you something boy, if he comes out of his cabin, it’s not for a good reason. So, the less you see of our dear Captain, the better off you’ll be. Why don’t you go help with the main sails, I need to see our first mate. Off you pop, go.”

You did as you were told and went to help with the main sails, securing the ropes and helping with adjustments as others saw fit.

Your mind wandered to the mysterious Captain Min and why he was hiding from his own crew… But, the wind changed direction, and it was back to work from there.

It was almost two months into our journey, and it was time to make port again.

The ship pulled into port at Yocleptes just after sundown. The men all got off the ship in a horde, ready to take the night as their own. You, however, didn’t seem as keen on the idea.

You’d been in enough taverns for your lifetime.

So, as you watched your fellow crewmates scamper off into the night in search of debauchery and enough booze to fill their stomachs, you headed for the shore.

The warmth of the sand on your feet was pleasant and you felt as ease when you slipped your aching muscles into the water. You thought of all that you’d done since you left Albion, and how proud you were of yourself for doing it.

You were on your own, but you had done it. You’d survived.

The longer you were on the ship, the more your instinct came back to you. You remembered all of the times on the ship with your father when you were younger, and how he used to tell you stories of pirates and merchants warring over the seas.

But, no one can tame the seas, he’d tell you.

All you can do is pray that the Goddess doesn’t want you that day.

The moon was starting to rise, and you watched as it bathed the beach you were on in a glow of white. It was beautiful, really. The sight of the moon high above and the stars all bright and twinkling alongside it. It made you think of your mother and how her eyes used to twinkle very similarly to that.

A flash of pain rung through your heart as you remembered your mother and father. How much they had cared for you and how much losing them hurt you.

The darkness of the man who had taken them from you was something that you had never seen in your entire life. His eyes were empty, simply pewter grey in color as he stabbed your father right through the heart. Your mother, cowering in the corner as she tried to her very last breath to protect you, her only child.

However, when the man rose his sword, to claim your life as well. He stopped… And then he smiled.

“I will give you a pain worse than death… I will leave you to grow up without a family, just like we all have. You will grow up, not knowing love.”

With that, he left, and you’d never seen him again.

You rarely thought about your mother and father anymore. You didn’t see the point in bringing up those painful memories when there were much better things on the horizon… But sometimes, you need to feel pain to remember why you’re there in the first place.

Why are you out on a voyage with pirates? Plunderers and marauders and thieves?

Because no noble man will look twice at you, and no one has any sympathy for an orphan.

So, you join those who share in your pain. Those who have nothing and no one left. They drown themselves in booze and woman in hopes of numbing their agony, even if it is for the shortest of whiles.

They understand you.

Greaves had told you how his mother died giving birth to him, and his father left him at a port when he was eleven. He didn’t know anything but the sea, and the sea was his home at this point.

Another man on the crew, they call him Buckett was reminiscing about his wife and child who had both fallen to sickness a few years back. He was a respectable man who had been driven mad by grief. He was lured to the sea with a promise to bring them back, and he still believes that one day, someone can give him his family back…

These people that others have thrown away and left to rot, and the people you belong to. They know your pain and they know your sorrow. Possibly better than you know it yourself. They do not ask questions they don’t already know the answer to. They don’t waste your time by giving you sympathy you do not want.

You respect these men who have thrown their lives to the wind and let themselves be free. Only to be judged in God’s eyes in the end.

Was there any other way to live?

Was being brought up in a rich house surrounded by people who are paid to take care of you something that you should envy?

Are those people living?  Or are they merely existing?

The material items they have, they cannot take with them to the next world, so why do people cling to them so?

There is nothing left after you're gone. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes.

Pirates.

Who would’ve thought you’d thrown your lot in with them.

It is a dangerous game to be playing. The game of luck and fortune and of the law.

You’d certainly be sent to the gallows if you were caught with Captain Min aboard the Crimson Grail…

But, at least you’d die knowing that you were understood by people who were the same as you. At least you got out of the tavern and went to see the world that many never lay eyes upon. You’d done it. You’d gone out and made something of yourself like that.

Suddenly, the wind changed and started blowing a bit harsher. You noticed that there was someone at the helm of the Grail, looking not out to the city, but towards you.

They were looking directly at you, it felt like.

You wondered who would be on the ship at this time, why weren’t they out partying and delving hands deep into a maiden’s skirt?

Then, the thought hit you.

It was Captain Min.

And he was looking over you.

---

It was a few weeks into the next stretch of your journey.

There was good wind in the sails and a pleasant breeze for you out on the deck. Greaves had been helping you with rigging the sails. The wind had been a bit shifty since the start of the day and Jin was less than pleased with this outcome.

“Come on you scurvy dogs! We’ve got to get up to at least fifteen knots! Or the quartermaster will be dealing out whippings after sundown!”

You and Greaves worked even harder, trying to rig the sails, but with the changing winds, it was proving to be harder than anticipated.

“Alright Lad, just get that last knot secured and we’ll be set to start on the spanker.”

You nodded and secured the knot, making sure that it wasn’t going anywhere. Following Greaves to the next sail you started your work.

You looked off the back of the ship for just a moment and noticed something gaining on you. And gaining on you quickly. Greaves lifted his head noticed quickly as well that there was someone who wanted to catch you. He moved around the back of the ship and found Jin rather fast.

“Sir! Sir! We’ve got a ship at the back of us, gaining quickly,” he said.

You looked over from your post and back to where Greaves and Jin were talking, listening in with a keen ear.

“How big is the ship?” He asked, without turning his head.

“Same size as the Grail sir, maybe a bit smaller, it’s hard to tell at the moment.”

Jin seemed to mull the information over before turning around and looking at the ship that was starting to become clearer and clearer as the minutes ticked by.

Suddenly, Jin was moving for the helm.

“HARD TO PORT! RAISE THE JIB! FULL SAILS OUT! I WANT THIS SHIP MOVING AT FULL SPEED!”

His tone surprised you. It was one of uncertainty and panic. Something wasn’t right. Something really wasn’t right, and you were curious as to what it was.

Greaves and you both worked on the back sails and then rushed forwards towards the mains and began to secure all the knots on the starboard side.

You dared a glance back at the ship, and noticed once black stripe running down one of the flags.

“FULL CANVAS, GET THE GRAIL TO FULL SPEED!”

“Greaves,” you started, pulling on the older man’s sleeve. He stopped his work and looked at you.

“Yes, lad, what do you want?”

“Why does that ship have a black stripe running down the front of the sail?”

Greaves seemed to pale slightly at your question as he cleared his throat and went back to working on his knot.

“Greaves, answer me, why does that ship have that marking?”

Finally, Greaves turned towards you and looked you dead in the eyes. There was something there you weren’t accustomed to from the older man. It was fear. Unadulterated dread.

That look wasn’t something you had come to expect from him.

“That is the only thing in this water that this ship needs to fear besides the Goddess herself. That is the ship Satan’s Compass and her Captain is Tobias Bridge. So, for right now, you listen to everything Jin tells you and do it to the best of your ability. We need to outrun the rabid dogs and live to tell the tale.”

And after that, Greaves was silent as he worked. Focused on nothing but getting the ship and the crew to safety. You did the same, running around and trying to help where it was needed.

Suddenly, there was a cannon shot.

“TAKE COVER!”

“READY THE CANNONS!”

There was so much going on and you weren’t sure if you knew half of any of it.

You saw that there was no one at the helm. Jin must’ve left to go tell Captain Min of the occurrences.

“Greaves! There’s no one at the helm!” You shouted, looking for you friend.

He noticed you and nodded.

“Take the helm lad! Try to get us into that bay over there!”

You nodded and took off towards the wheel. You grabbed hold of the pegs and pulled the ship hard to starboard. The men followed suit, adjusting the sails and doing what they could to keep the ship going faster than the Compass.

The wind was being particularly difficult, not allowing you to gain much speed.

You turned your head back and noticed that the other boat was almost on your back now. You could see the crew moving around and rummaging for more cannon balls and muskets were being passed out among the men.

Greaves came up and fired a few warning shots their way.

Jin came back to the helm and took over. He turned to you without warning and grabbed your shoulders.

“Astor, make sure every man on this ship has a weapon. Prepare to be boarded. Send the message out.”

You nodded quickly and took off down the stairs.

“Everyone! Get out your pistols, muskets, cutlasses and daggers, prepare to be boarded.”

You shouted all over the ship, you even went below deck and gave them Jin’s orders.

Although, the Compass caught up with you eventually. You were below deck when you heard the shuffling of numerous feet.

Men were shouting and the ringing of steel was prominent throughout the air.

Shots went off and you noticed men starting to come down below. You grabbed the nearest sword and brought it in front of you. It had been years since you’d trained with a sword. You weren’t certain you even remembered the footwork anymore.

Although, you saw that they weren’t doing anything like you thought they were going to. They weren’t stealing anything. They must be looking for more crew members.

You hid behind one of the barrels of rum that was plentiful in this ship’s cargo hold and tried to remain as silent as you could.

The men were looking around still, moving barrel and crates alike. You knew it was just a matter of time before they found you. So, why prolong the inevitable?

You stood up and held your sword out in front of you.

“Ah, looky here. We have a boy who thinks he is fit to fight us?”

The other sailor smacked him upside the head and scoffed.

“If you think this is a boy, you must’ve never bedded a woman. Look at her face, she clearly a woman. But, wonder why they brought her aboard?”

They pulled out their pistols and aimed them at you. You dropped your sword and decided to go with them quietly.

Better that then with bullet holes in you.

They hauled you up on deck and put you with the rest of your crewmates. A man stepped forward with an intimidating grin on his face and a beautiful sword drawn.

“Are we correct in saying that this is the Crimson Grail? Captained by Min Yoongi?” He asked, looking around.

Jin stepped forward.

“You are correct. But, what does that matter to you Tobias?”

Suddenly, the man hauled off and punched Jin square in the face. A few of your crew members rushed over to help pull him to his feet. You glared at the man who was called Tobias with a fury. Who was he to try and rob you of your freedom that you had so desperately worked for?

“Remember your place rat. I’m looking for your Captain. Min Yoongi?” He asked, waltzing around, looking at each member in the face.

When he got to you, he grabbed your face and looked you dead in the eye.

“You, dear, do you happen to know where Min Yoongi is?”

“You could save yourself all the trouble if your men weren’t stupid enough to ignore the mast.”

You heard a voice speaking from up above. Everyone lifted their eyes and saw a rope with a man attached to it falling down towards the deck.

The rope ran out and the man fell towards the middle of the deck with grace, landing on his feet like a lithe cat. He looked up and you could swear his eyes were like that of a cat, shifting and unreadable.

A realization hit you just then. This was the exact man who paid for a night with you in Albion a few months ago and didn’t take it! He paid 60 trinny coins for you bed and yet he didn’t share it with you.

You had encountered the famous Min Yoongi before you gained access to this ship?

“What do you want with my ship and my crew, Tobias?” He asked, stepping closer and closer to the man who had boarded his ship.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you, Min Yoongi, dead. On the bottom of the ocean floor, rotting.”

“That seems a bit much. But, I will not be dying today, Tobias. And I do not take kindly to this kind of disrespect from someone who doesn’t even have the title of Pirate Lord. You’re not one of the six, are you? I don’t remember the council meeting anytime in the past five years.”

His words were deadly, you could tell. Anyone who disrespected him had every right to be afraid. You were on his crew, and yet you were frightened.

“I have every intention of being on the council. With you dead, there will be a spot for the taking.”

Yoongi nodded and seemed to think about this for a moment.

“That is correct, but, how will you make certain that the council will vote you in? You know, there are other pirates on these seas besides you, Tobias.”

Tobias growled and drew his sword, pointing it directly at Captain Min’s throat. Your heart was in your stomach and you didn’t know what to do. Would this really be the end of your freedom?

“I will make them fear me, so that as they will not have any choice but to choose me, unless they want to have future meetings in Davy Jones’s locker.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and pushed the sword away from his throat. You and the crew stood firm, ready to heed your Captain’s command.

“Fear isn’t as good as trust, mate. That’s why we have the code. Something you seem to be lacking in currently,” he said, with a twang of disappointment in his tone.

“The code doesn’t hold any grounds on my ship.”

“Then you aren’t a pirate. True pirates follow the code and listen to the council. If you’d like to go rogue and have every single pirate out there after your neck, then by all means, be my guest. But, seeing as how you’re already here, I could put you out of your misery myself,” he growled, looking like he was itching to put a few rounds of lead into the man before you. Although, Yoongi held firm and didn’t fall victim to his desire to murder this insolent pup.

Tobias was silent as he stared at Yoongi in disbelief.

“We have your crew captured and your cargo can be ours as well. What say you to that? Shall I start murdering your crew one by one right before your very eyes? Perhaps I’ll start with this pretty lass right here,” he said, pulling you out of your formation and in front of your Captain, placing the cold metal of a pistol right against your head.

You quaked in fear, but didn’t plead for your life.

It was useless against these kinds of men.

Yoongi was looking at you closely. Possibly deciding whether you were worth the trouble or not. Greaves lunged forward to try to help you in any way, but he was held back by men stronger than him.

“Jin, who was the last crew member to join our crew?” He asked, looking towards his first mate who was rubbing his cheek sorely.

“It was Astor sir… The one with the gun to his head…”

“Her head, Jin, she’s a female who’s been impersonating a man to do God only knows what on this ship. But, has she caused any trouble?”

Jin shook his head adamantly, “No sir, she’s not caused any trouble, if anything, she’s more helpful than half the lot here.”

Yoongi considered this and came forward.

“Tobias, I think it’s time you took your hands off my crew members. And your ship needs to sail far away from me. Never to be seen again. Do I make myself clear?”

Yoongi grabbed his gun and threw it to the ground, pulling you free and giving you to Greaves.

Tobias gave Yoongi a deathly glare as he moved towards his cabin.

“And the lot of you, clean this mess up, would you?”

That apparently was the last straw for Tobias.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion at that point. He bent and picked up the gun and aimed at Yoongi, who’s back was to him.

You couldn’t let anything bad happen to your Captain. Where would any of you be without him? Probably still in Albion, being sold every night just for a few trinny or whatever somebody had in their pocket. He had given you freedom before you ever set foot on his ship. He was a good man. He didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that, and to be threatened. Yoongi cared for his crew and for the ship that he commanded. You were all a part of one crew. His. And you would die for the man that saved your life before. And eye for an eye.

Before you knew it, you threw yourself in front of the Yoongi, hanging onto him in an awkward embrace. Then there was a resounding

BANG.

Everyone on the ship halted.

No one breathed.

No one moved.

Everyone remained perfectly still.

Except for you.

You shakily brought your hand to your shoulder and brought it away to reveal, bright crimson blood stained your fingers.

“She’s been shot!”

“We need bandages!”

“Murderer!”

You could feel yourself tipping backwards as you got lightheaded.

“Fall back! Head back to the ship you scoundrels! Run!”

Tobias fled with his men back to his ship.

Yoongi held onto you tightly, lowering you to the deck.

He watched a crimson liquid began to stain the damp wood. There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, before he began shouting orders.

“After them! I won’t let them harm a member of my crew like that and get away with it,” Yoongi yelled. You gave a small smile.

“We’re even now, I guess.”

Yoongi chuckled.

“I saved your maidenhood, not your life.”

Jin started barking orders and things of the like, but you were focused on Yoongi.

His dark hair and stunning eyes drew you in. He was handsome. You were okay dying for him, as long as he saved someone like you again in the future. If he could do that for someone else as well. It would mean a great deal to you.

“Hang in there, we just need to stop the bleeding,” he said, grabbing a cloth and applying pressure to your wound. Greaves came over and took your hand.

“I’ve known you were a lass the moment I met ye… I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you any better,” Greaves said, trying to keep himself from crying.

“Greaves, take her to my cabin and make sure she is taken care of, I will be there momentarily,” Yoongi said before leaving your side.

You watched as he walked away and your vision faded to black…

#Yongle #Yoongi #Min Yoongi #Min Suga #Crimson Grail #Jessika Hathaway #Yoongi smut #Bts Yoongi #BTS Min Yoongi #BTS Min Suga #Suga #BTS Suga #BTS #Bangtan Sonyeondan #Bangtan #Bangtan Suga #Bangtan Boys #Bulletproof Boy Scouts #beyond the scene #Future Smut #Series #BTS series #BTS fanfiction #BTS Min Yoongi Fanfiction #Fanfiction

[gogeniusking]

Download Music Audio Mp3: Stonebwoy – Good Morning Ft. Chivv, Spanker

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Ghanaian music export, Stonebwoy celebrates his birthday with a new single titled “Good Morning“.

Stonebwoy’s new song ‘Good Morning‘ features Chivv and record producer, Spanker. Listen and share your thoughts below:

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#Spanker #Stonebwoy – Good Morning Ft. Chivv

[djbhizzy]

MUSIC: Eugy – LoLo (Prod. Spanker) Disturbing London Records act, Eugy releases a new Afro-Pop single titled “ LoLo “, produced by…

[spiked-watch-blog]

Boardroom revolutionaries

By Nick Cohen, from the Observer, October 1998

When I was a student there was a popular caricature of an unbending Marxist who refused to give money to starving beggars because charity ameliorated the contradictions of capitalism and postponed the day when revolution would sweep the land. I thought the joke was just that, but now... 

We move to Trafalgar Square on 31 March 1990. Mark Steel, the comedian and writer, was watching the Metropolitan Police fail to contain tens of thousands of demonstrators. The anti-poll tax riot led to the biggest campaign of civil disobedience since the War, and the fall of Margaret Thatcher. Next to Steel was a commissar from the Revolutionary Communist Party which dismissed those who fought a tax that took from the poor and gave to the rich as wet liberals. 'There's nothing to be concerned about,' he sneered down a phone to head office, 'just a bunch of middle-class kids playing about.' 

The revolutionary party also despised Anti-Apartheid for 'helping capitalism' by supporting sanctions against South Africa and had nothing but contempt for the NHS. At about the time of the poll tax revolt, Yunus Baksh, secretary of a Unison branch in Newcastle upon Tyne, was organising protests against cuts in funding. At one, members of the RCP handed out leaflets denouncing the cause of better pay for miserable cleaners and porters. Nurses were jostled and abused when they questioned whether the NHS was really an instrument of the repressive state. After a second demo, Baksh and ambulance drivers worried about their jobs met members of the party in a Newcastle pub. The comrades shouted at Bakshand punched him in the face. 

You might think that a tiny group of cranks-so far gone it agreed with the Sunday Times that Aids was a 'gay plague' which could never be contracted by heterosexuals and opposed rallies against the British National Party-would be a footnote in political history. But today the RCP is the acme of fashion, all the rage. Join it, my dears, and see the doors of the media, big business and high culture open when you ring. 

Looking good was always a revolutionary priority for the RCP. A man, who asked to be called 'John' because he did not want to be troubled by his former friends, said supporters had to serve an apprenticeship with a handler who monitored their progress. They were allowed to become full members only when they had shown they had imbibed the correct ideology by sitting an exam on the party's theory. 'If you passed you got a clothing allowance, he said. 'You had to be attractive, trendy, so you would go down well when we tried to find wealthy recruits at the Edinburgh Festival and outside Sloane Square tube.' 

The party stopped active work in the early Nineties and adherents clustered on its magazine, Living Marxism, which was renamed LM. Last year Channel 4 broadcast Against Nature a three-hour series devoted to LM's theme that environmentalists are modem Nazis who throw fabricated concerns about global warming and the mass extinction of species in the way of progress. The green movement isn't sacred and should be able to answer hostile questions, but viewers would have known where Against Nature was coming from if they had been told that the assistant producer, Eve Kaye, was a co-ordinator of LM, and that the director Martin Durkin described himself as a Marxist. (He denied any link with LM but followed its line.) The documentaries quoted two 'independent experts' who praised human cloning and condemned sustainable development in the Third World as a western conspiracy against the wretched of the Earth. One was John Mott, LM's science correspondent; the other was Frank Furedi, LM's star columnist and all-round media don from Kent University. (Furedi used to be known as Frank Richards, incidentally. Like Lenin and Trotsky, many at LM fight under a nom de guerre.) 

LM continues the RCP tradition of striking reactionary postures. Last week a howling book was printed by Jonathan Hunt, a second-hand car salesman turned journalist, which accused my colleagues on the Guardian of framing Neil Hamilton. That mighty moralist and spanker Paul Johnson and the rest of the Spectator crowd hate the paper for having the impertinence to tell the truth about Jonathan Aitken, and abuse it weekly. Even they could not bring themselves to endorse Hunt. He was, however, able to cite support from LM in his defence. When I dropped into the LM office they gave me Hamilton's home number and urged me to phone the old brute. 'He calls us his friends,' said LM's James Heartfield whose real name is James Hughes.

Last year LM ran a story from a German engineer turned journalist who defends the Serbian leadership against all too clear charges of murder, systematic rape and ethnic cleansing. The magazine claimed ITN had fooled the world by forging its famous pictures of starving Bosnians herded behind barbed wire by the Serbs. ITN sued and the liberal aristocracy LM loathes came to its aid. Harold Evans, Doris Lessing, Fay Weldon and Paul Theroux reproached ITN for a 'deplorable attack on press freedom'. 

Decent journalists see the British libel laws as a menace. They know that powerful frauds, such as Aitken and Hamilton, can use them to suppress awkward inquiries. Doubtless Evans and the rest thought they were defending a plucky little magazine against an overbearing media conglomerate. As George Monbiot points out in an article in Prospect, global capital and living Marxists get on famously. Anti-imperialist LM runs pieces by Roger Bate of the far right Institute for Economic Affairs which believes that African countries would be better governed if they were sold to multinationals. This year it printed the theory of one Ron Arnold who claimed that the Unabomber was an environmentalist and QED! - environmentalists were therefore terrorists. Arnold is Vice President of the Centre of the Defence of Free Enterprise, which campaigns against restrictions on corporate America. Against Nature not only featured LM contributors, but Reaganite economists and members of the Cato Institute, another wellendowed American think-tank which works with the British Adam Smith Institute to promote the dismantling of the Chilean welfare state by the topical General Pinochet as a model for the US and UK. All agreed with LM that leftie greens were endangering human happiness. 

The Independent Television Commission forced Channel 4 to make a prime-time apology. The links with corporations are not merely ideological. A leaked memo is causing great hilarity in the consumer movement. It appears to show the radical Frank Furedi/Richards offering his services to the supermarket cartel. For £7,500 be will provide research which will 'educate' consumers towards a 'less emotive' consideration of food safety. 

Businessfriendly dismissals of 'panics' about BSE and genetically modified food feature strongly in LM's 'libertarian' philosophy. Furedi says that although he has received no money from supermarkets he would be willing to accept payments.I think it is it at this point that an obscure group becomes an authentic representative of the spirit of an age where corporate values undermine all others. The party leaders talk of 'UK plc', as if democracy were a business and the electorate were consumers to be swindled by advertising executives (or spin doctors, as Westminster journalists call them) and chivvied into snapping up bargain buys by the shop girls formerly known as politicians. 

Last week David Blunkett announced a new training college for head teachers would be set up at a business school. The Education Secretary said heads were like 4 managing directors of big companies' and showed no sign of knowing that managing directors do not have a duty to produce an educated public which appreciates learning for its own sake, and would be sacked in seconds if they said they did. I could quote examples for ever. I think, however, it is with LM that we see multinational triumphalism reaching an apotheosis. We can now gaze on the gorgeous spectacle of corporate Marxists: the boardroom's revolutionary arm.

If, that is, you can say that LM is revolutionary. Its spokeswoman, Clare Fox (I don't know if that's a real name), said in true Blairite fashion that differences between Left and Right didn't amount to a hill of beans these days and she is far more concerned with restraints on freedom. Yet there was one organisation that supported the poll tax, low pay for hospital workers, the lifting of sanctions against South Africa, Neil Hamilton and unlimited freedom for corporations: the Conservative Party. Most put it on the Right.The Conservatives had no time for drips who gave change to beggars. Nor does RCP/LM. 'John,' our former supporter, was out with his handler when he passed a beggar and dropped 50 pence into his hat. His minder exploded. 'Don't you realise you're helping capitalism?' he roared. 'Don't you realise you are subsidising poverty? All John realised was that he had had more than enough of 'middle-class kids playing about' and quit.

#RCP #Living Marxism #LM Network #Frank Furedi #Claire Fox #Nick Cohen

[pascalspanker]

Dominar...

El control sobre otra persona. La habilidad o capacidad de ejercer su voluntad y extraer de una persona la necesidad de entregarse por sí misma a esa voluntad.

Así que muchas sumisas van y dicen: “Cógelo de mí,” forzame…” y muchos dominantes responden: “Rompe a tu sumisa.” Y lo que ambos olvidan, o nunca han aprendido, es que existe el arte de dominar a una persona.

Sí, he dicho ARTE...

Cualquiera puede sentarse en un piano, tocar una tecla y decir: “¡Mira, soy pianista!” Sí. Has tocado una tecla. Has hecho que suene. Lo que no has hecho es crear música. Una melodía que fluya, que levante el aire y que ambas hipnoticen.

La dominación es diferente.

Cualquiera puede azotar a una persona para que obedezca. Puedes azotarla más allá de lo que se supone y enseñarla a que respondan a: “¿Quién es tu Amo?” Puedes azotar la carne y excitar su cuerpo. Puedes darle órdenes y hacer que te obedezca. Sí, usted puede hacer esto y decirle: “Te dominé.”

Lo que no hiciste es llevarla al siguiente nivel. No hiciste todo lo posible para ti ni convertiste tu dominación en un arte. Sí, hay un arte para dominar a otra persona. Esa sumisa es también – valga el comparativo – como un piano. Cada tecla es algo diferente de las demás. Algo que les gusta, les disgusta, quiere o necesita. Algo que ellas anhelan o algo que temen. Cada tecla de una persona produce un sonido diferente.

Adéntrate en ellas, como persona y sumisa. Aprende todo lo que puedas sobre ella: gustos, anhelos, necesidades, deseos, fantasías y cosas de su vida. Estos son la hoja de ruta hacia la persona que le permitirá navegar su mente y su cuerpo. Incluso los estados de ánimo más inocuos tienen la clave para ellas y lo que son, lo que las impulsa y lo que no.

Empieza a conocer sus estados de ánimo. Lo que significa una mirada. Lo que una acción hace tras su mente. Estás conociendo a la persona hasta el punto que usted podrá leerla como un libro. Usted está aprendiendo a navegar en ella.

No es suficiente aprender y navegar por la persona para conocer cada tecla. Cada una suena diferente. Tienes que aprender cómo agruparlas. Tienes que conocer a la persona hasta el punto de conseguir la habilidad para navegar con destreza a través de su mente y su cuerpo. Cada una es diferente. Cada situación trae una melodía nueva que debe tocar.

Usted, su imaginación, su carácter, sus juguetes y sus técnicas son los que deberá usar para conseguir ese sonido de su sumisa, esa dulce melodía de ella.

Tenemos muchos juguetes: floggers, fustas, cuerdas, canes, mordazas, etc. Las técnicas que usamos: la privación de los sentidos, la servidumbre, los límites, las restricciones, la obediencia, etc.

Cada juguete o técnica puede traer placer o dolor. Pueden ser cosas buenas o malas. Cada persona es diferente. A cada una, le gusta más una cosa que otra. Cada sumisa anhela algo, mientras que otra puede anhelar sólo conseguir un límite.

Su actitud. Postura. Voz. Mirada. Sus manos, el tacto, los dientes, la boca y los labios. Esa mirada de: “Te pasaste de la raya,” puede parar a una sumisa en su camino. Esa voz en su oído puede cambiar y hacerla cambiar en la dirección que usted quiera. Esa caricia suave en su cuerpo o abrazarla por la cintura pueden empujar o presionar su cuerpo y mente. Nunca subestime lo mucho que usted y lo que pueda hacer, afecte a su sumisa. El aura pura y energía que emiten es un afrodisíaco.

Sí, dominar es un ARTE...

Se trata de conocer a su sumisa y cómo navegar con ella, con su mente y su cuerpo. Conocer cada tecla de ella.

Es mental. Es física. Es saber qué y cuándo. Es saber cuán lejos puedes ir y cuando no seguir.

Se trata de saber cómo poseer su mente, su cuerpo, girarlo, cambiarlo y llevarlo hacia donde nosotros queremos que vaya…y más, hacia donde ELLAS quieren ir. Aprendiendo a cómo usar cada tecla de ellas, qué secuencia y en qué frecuencia, hasta que empiece a sonar esa música que la haga vibrar.

Se trata de extraer de ellas lo que ya anhelan dar: su sumisión y su entrega. Aprendiendo a sacar de ellas cada cosa que deseen, al igual que usted, esa puntual y dulce melodía.

Se trata de saber qué melodía toca en cada situación. Guiándolas con usted, tanto mental como físicamente, bien sea en una sesión o bien, en un mal día.

Llaman la atención esas teclas, cada momento, cada día, hasta que usted esté controlando absolutamente, sus acciones, de modo que no se den cuenta de cómo usted se lo está haciendo a ellas.

Se trata de poseer a esa sumisa y hacerla música. Usando lo que ellas son, sus teclas, para sacar de ellas el máximo provecho de lo que son, como persona y sumisa, en todas las formas posibles.

Dominar no se trata de darle solo azotes a alguien. No se trata de darle órdenes. No se trata de conseguir su obediencia por la fuerza. Al menos, no cuando conviertes tu dominación en un ARTE.

Una vez que aprendas a ser un artista, cómo navegar por las teclas de tu sumisa y azotar sólo cuando sea necesario, usted sabrá que ha empezado  a tocar un instrumento y producir música. Sacará de ellas esas notas y melodías. No solo estará dominando en un sentido, usted lo estará haciendo en todos los sentidos.

Sí, usted puede golpear una tecla. Usted podrá decirle: “Soy tu Amo, de rodillas,” y tal vez, ella obedecerá y hasta es posible que le haga una felación. Enhorabuena, la dominaste.

Ahora, sea un artista. Usted puede hacer algo dulce, por ejemplo, crear música si ha aprendido a tocar las teclas de su sumisa... Pascal Spanker.