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inthesummerswelter · 5 years

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recipe for disaster: chapter fourteen

They don’t talk about it, that early morning with Penn lying on the floor and tea spilling out of the quivering cup in her gran’s hands.

There’s more tenderness between them though, with gentle touches on the arm, hands placed comfortingly on shoulders as they soldier on together, the days getting longer as the New Year comes in on tip-toe.

They don’t talk about it, not when their positions are reversed just under a week later, and Penn is screaming into her mobile, asking for emergency services as her legs buckle underneath her at the sight of her gran, fallen and unconscious at the bottom of the stairs, a small pool of blood staining her pure white hair a sickly shade of peach.

Seeing the gurney wheeled in through the front door has her in near hysterics, utter chaos flooding the living room. She nearly forgets to slip on a pair of shoes before locking the door and rushing out into the back of the ambulance, leaving Cardy and Clove frantically dashing around the flat.

They don’t talk about it, not when Penn’s knuckles are the same sort of pale as the inside of the ambulance, a side effect of the sterile, overhead lighting and from clutching the bars of the gurney too hard. The emergency medical technician in the back drapes an arm over her shoulders, just enough to keep her from flying into the walls as the vehicle takes a sharp turn. All of the sounds come muffled, as if someone’s stuffed cotton into her ears, drowning out the wailing sirens with an eerie blanket of nothing.

She calls Zayn again, numbly, after they restrain her from bursting through the heavy swinging doors where they’ve taken her gran in to do further examination on the severity of the head wound. The reception is bad on his end, crackling with fuzz and static, but she knows that he can hear her telling him about the tacky art adorning the whitewashed walls of the waiting room.

They talk about it when Miriam Bunting gets a room to herself, condition having stabilized enough for Penn to go in and see her.

Or, Penn talks about it, really.

Gingerly holding her hand, made trickier with the tubing feeding into her body, Penn talks about it.

“You’re not scared, I know. But I am. I’m ridiculously scared. And I shouldn’t be, I know. It’s just hard. I know all these things. I know that tomorrow the sun will rise, and I know that tomorrow you’ll still love lily-of-the-valley. I know that the restaurant still exists, and that the clams are one of the most popular appetizers. But I don’t know the scariest things. Where will you go? How long will it take for you to get there? Will there be ovens and lawn chairs and Pop?”

Her voice gives out at the end, and she’s silent for a long time.

The slow beep of the heart monitor is the only other sound in the room, along with the constant whir from the air shaft, providing ventilation in the small room.

“I’m scared and I’m worried and I’m so tired. And I love you so much. I just wish we had more time.”

The monotonous drone is broken by the sound of footsteps. A nurse comes in, presumably to complete a cursory check of the patient, and Penn takes that as a cue to leave for a bit.

All the hallways look the same. She doesn’t pay attention to the signs as she wanders around, taking stairs up and down when she can to avoid groups of people clustered about.

Soon, however, she finds herself in the natal ward, standing just opposite a large pane of glass, behind which lies orderly rows of newborn babies in hospital bassinets, the nursery surprisingly busy.

There’s a digital clock right near the front, flashing the time: 12:48 a.m.

They left the flat at quarter ‘til nine in the evening.

Crossing her arms and bracing them on the small ledge in front of the glass, she watches the babies sleep, reading the name cards over and over again until her whole world consists of linking letters together.

It’s a welcome distraction, until someone nudges her shoulder and pushes something into her hand.

Ashton stands beside her, hair sticking up at odd angles, dark thumbprints of exhaustion evident underneath his hazel eyes. He’s got an old flannel on and a pair of sleep trousers, and a carry-out cup of something in his hand.

“It’s really crap tea,” he mumbles before sipping from the rim of the cardboard cup. She barely registers the cup that’s pushed into her hand seconds before, struck dumb by his presence.

How had he known…?

Pausing in the midst of blowing across the surface of the liquid in an attempt to cool it, he turns and looks at her, taking in her wide eyes and open mouth.

“Zayn,” Ashton says, shrugging his shoulders and turning away, causing the plaid pattern of the flannel to stretch and warp momentarily across the broad plane of his back. “Called me up, told me what’s been going on. Y’know, since you’ve decided to keep me out of the loop and all.”

“I -”

“Told me that I shouldn’t be coming onto private property uninvited? I know you’re hurting, Penn, but that’s no reason to push me away.”

He doesn’t look at her, staring instead through the glass at the little bassinets, one now with waving fists, an apparently unhappy occupant. They watch as a nurse bustles in and takes the newborn in hand, cradling it to her chest and swaying around in loose circle before its cries wake up the other residents.

She didn’t mean it, not really.

He had stopped by on an especially bad afternoon, and she had just, well, snapped.

“I…,” she tries again. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. It’s just me.”

“I fucking know it’s you, Penn, okay?”

Startled at the vehemence in his voice, she accidentally spills a bit of her tea, splattering the pristine tiles.

“Don’t do this to me again. You didn’t answer my calls or my texts. I may not understand exactly what you’re going through, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be there with you, helping you!”

Penn closes her eyes and gently leans over until her head hits his shoulder. It’s shaking.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve fucked everything up.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you have.”

They stand there in the hallway, waiting for nothing in particular.

Everything is quiet now, blanketed with the stillness that only after-midnight hours bring. So quiet that Penn thinks she can hear the thud of their hearts, beating together in a syncopated rhythm.

All that’s missing is a change of scenery, a change of situation. Something that’s not so utterly grim and tinged with a sort of low-budget desperation that washes out all characters on the screen into pale facsimiles of themselves.

Ashton huffs out a sigh, fingers curling into the cool metal of the ledge before finally swinging his head to look at her from underneath honeyed eyelashes.

“Hold this a sec for me?” He gestures to his cup of tepid tea, placing it in her other hand when she nods.

She doesn’t know what she’s expecting him to do - probably bend down to retie his shoe or nip off quickly to the loo, something inane like that - but she knows that it’s not this.

This being him taking three decisive steps forward, until her back hits the drywall just to the side of the large window, liquid in the cups sloshing dangerously close to the rims.

This being him bringing large hands oh so delicately up to slip a lock of hair that had escaped its pin back into place and then back down to cradle the slight curve of her waist and cup the line of her jaw, stroking the skin just behind her ear gently with a calloused fingertip.

This being him using his arms to pull her forward into his front, his chest warm and comfortingly solid.

This being him leaning forward to whisper, his lips a hairsbreadth away from touching the curve of her ear.

“It’s going to be alright. I promise. You just have to be strong a little bit longer.”

He retracts after a moment of hesitation, and, after a moment more, presses a kiss to her forehead, echoing the one on the landing between their flats that seemed like eons ago.

Taking his cup, he mumbles something about needing to see if they’re done in the room and picks up a duffel she hadn’t even noticed off the floor, trudging away back towards her gran’s wing.

Her legs give out seconds later, and she slides down the wall until she’s sitting, all folded up against the wall.

God, what is she even doing any more?

Less than an hour later, in the dark of her gran’s room, she shifts her head on the coarse canvas of his backpack, nestling further into the nest of spare blankets the nurse on duty had given them. Penn had fallen into a sort of drowsy reverie a lot faster than she initially had thought, and consequently feels just about half-asleep right now.

Her spine bumps up against the long line of his leg, the clacking of the keys on his laptop as he types trailing off.

“‘M still a little pissed with you,” he sighs out, seconds before she feels a hand stroke the side of her head slowly.

The typing picks up again, as Ashton works to finish up a paper, the liquid-crystal of the display casting a glow onto his face for hours after.

They leave the hospital later that next day, in the sun-soaked afternoon.

Ashton comes over and makes up proper tea while Penn touches the pots and pans for what feels like the first time in ages.

“C’mon, Gran, we’re going to be late for your appointment!”

Penn bustles around the flat, gathering up all the things that they’ll need for their routine visit to the doctor. She’s steeling herself for the day when Dr. Stamford tells them that they should just stay at the hospital until the end, that the cancer has almost completed its goal.

“We’re not going, Penelope.”

Sitting in the rocking chair positioned just close enough to the window to catch the beams of afternoon sun that stream through, Miriam Bunting watches the traffic flood by across the busy fareway.

She stops mid-stride, hand outstretched to grab her keys off the hook by the door.

“What?”

Her gran shrugs. “There’s no point to wasting time with that sort of nonsense. I’ve already phoned up the office and told them. I want to die at home.”

One would think that Penn has cried herself dry by this point, but a flood of tears still rush up unbidden to her eyes.

Illuminated by the shaft of light floating through the window, Miriam looks practically angelic already, pale skin and white housecoat near glowing.

“I’ve made other arrangements for my care for the next days and called for David and Laura. They’re on their way. And, I’ve taken the liberty of going around gathering most of your things. You should go now, Penelope.”

“Wait, what?”

Blindsided doesn’t even begin to describe it right now.

Penn reels at the news. Her gran is dying. Her parents are coming. And she’s supposed to leave her like this?

“You heard me. I don’t want you to see me like...that,” she says, making a gesture off into the air. “I don’t want your last memory of me to be that. Not like how it is with Ichiro. I always felt like we made a mistake, letting you see him in the hospital, but you were so young and so heartbroken…”

“Gran, I’m heartbroken now.”

Facing her granddaughter, there’s steel in Miriam’s eyes, an inner strength completely at odds with her wasted frame.

“Don’t do this, Penelope. Don’t you dare do this to yourself. You can’t linger and waste your life thinking about this constantly. You have the capacity for great things, and I know you will accomplish them. You can’t linger, can’t waste your life grieving over the inevitable!”

There’s nothing she can do to change her mind, to make her let her stay until the end.

Silently, Penn nods, swiping at her eyes with her fists like a child again.

“I love you, Gran. So much.”

Motioning her closer, she gathers the younger girl in her arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you too, Penelope. Never doubt my love for you.”

After a long while, they draw apart, Penn collecting her remaining things and herding the dogs towards the door after they too have said their goodbyes. She turns to look on her gran, one last time, taking the image to memory before she forces herself to close the door.

The heavy wood hits the frame just seconds before tears start falling onto the weave of the throw rug.

Twilight has come.

It’s déjà vu all over again for him.

He looks up as the rain paints pictures against the cold glass of the window, and he smiles because he could use a break from the insufferable writing of his poli sci text right now. Well, from that and from all of the second-hand pain of Penn’s that he’s been toting around on his back.

Ashton doesn’t even bother stripping off his shirt this time, a long-sleeved affair with multicolor stripes. Calum likes to tell him that it makes him look like one of the permanent cast members of Sesame Street.

Opening the slider door that leads out onto the shared terrace, he curls his toes in the puddle that’s already forming under the ledge of the entrance. He closes his eyes and tilts his head up, feeling the torrent run across his face, plastering his wavy mop against his forehead.

There’s just something about the rain that’s special to him, always been special to him.

Ashton cups his hands as he strides out into the middle of the downpour, catching and releasing the water just as quickly as it hits his palms, and he heads for the edge of the small greenhouse structure constructed on the terrace. Penn keeps a few small folding chairs there, and they’re just the right material to get drenched without any damage.

Except, as he rounds the corner, it’s not just the chairs that are there.

Penn’s there, too, just standing right at the edge of the roof with a watering can in loosely wilting fingers. No umbrella, no chastising him for a reckless behavior.

Nothing.

And his heart seizes up in his chest as he realizes just how close she is to the drop-off, watches her feet begin to shift, and Ashton dashes towards Penn, feeling like he’s moving through molasses.

The only thing that runs through his mind right now is Penn Penn Penn there’s something wrong with Penn, and vaguely he knows that her gran is a part of it.

(Something’s wrong, something’s terribly wrong.)

Ashton’s arm shoots out and catches her around the waist, dragging her away from the limestone border of the rooftop terrace and pulls her into him, allowing himself one moment of indulgence in the feel of her body in his arms before he lets go and puts his hands on her shoulders.

“Penn! Penn – fuck, you’re freezing – what the fuck, what the fuck is wrong?” He practically shouts this into her face, her face that’s absolutely devoid of any emotion, and he can’t completely keep the note of desperation out of his voice.

Two words come out of her mouth. “She’s gone.”

He knows exactly who she’s talking about, dead-on with his previous assumption. The only she that Penn ever cared for, and, as far as he knows, ever cared for Penn.

Penn’s eyes finally connect with his own, and it feels like he’s been punched in the gut with the utter loss and confusion and desperation that’s there, waiting for someone to notice.

With all of that, Ashton really shouldn’t be surprised at what happens next, but, Jesus Christ, is he ever.

Something changes in her expression, and she’s suddenly much closer to him that before. Dimly, Ashton registers the sound of the metal watering can clattering against the tiled roof, but right now most of his concentration is being taken up with trying not to stare too blatantly at the wet shirt draping itself over Penn’s chest.

And then she kisses him.

It’s hot mouths and clacking teeth, and fingers sewing stitches at the nape of his neck and lacing around the curve of his jaw, and he staggers back, clutching her waist again, but this time for balance.

After a few glorious seconds minutes hours days later, he regains some control on his brain and pulls back his hand that’s somehow made its way to the curve of her arse, detaching his mouth from hers in the same motion.

He wants to dive back in as soon as she gives a little, breathy gasp at the sudden lack of him, but, instead, Ashton begins say, “Penn, no this isn’t the right way of doing th –”

His sentence gets cut off by a groan that makes its way up his throat because she’s somehow got her mouth on a point right under his jaw that makes his toes curl, and he knows that it’s going to be a moot point to argue with her when she’s wrangling with his belt in one hand and tracing a steady pattern on the planes of his back with her other.

It’s not until much later that she gets the call, all crackling static and interference, and she wants so damn much to not believe it, but the words come through with deadly clarity.

“She’s gone,” says her mother, no prefacing needed.

And Penn calmly takes the receiver away from her ear. Silently, her index finger presses down on the ‘end’ button, and the phone gets set on the counter, because Penn has to go water the plants now.

She’s since changed into a different pair of linen shorts and a tee shirt declaring her property of whatever university Ashton’s enrolled in, and she plucks at it idly, thinking that she maybe should change.

But Penn has to go water the plants now, so she slips on her favorite pair of Birkenstocks and loops her fingers around the can sitting right beside the slider door. Pushing the pane of glass aside, she steps out into a torrential downpour, but she has to go water the plants now. It makes no difference what the weather is.

She makes it halfway to the greenhouse before she stops, adjacent to the rim of the roof, and the watering can is now held just tenuously.

Penn looks over, looks through the buzz in her brain, the fog in her eyes, to the streets of the city below.

It’s such a long way down for such a short trip. Just a quick step up and over and that’s it. That’s the end.

Her feet begin to move again – she has to go water the plants now - but this time, she’s caught about the waist with strong arms and held tightly to an unyielding chest, a face bursting into view.

It’s Ashton, and Penn thinks that he’s saying her name, and then she realizes that it’s Ashton Ashton will understand Ashton.

Prying her lips open, she manages to speak.

“She’s gone.”

And the look of devastation and concern that crosses his face makes her heart ache, and she just needs a goddamn distraction right now because - who is she fucking kidding - the plants don’t need a goddamn watering right now; it’s fucking pouring.

It’s pouring, and it’s a Tuesday morning, and her grandmother’s dead.

And Ashton’s there, right in front of her, and Penn wanted a distraction, didn’t she?

The watering can clatters on the ground as she loops her arms around his neck and molds her lips to hers, and damn it, he’s going to kiss her back. Penn sucks and licks and nibbles until he gasps, a deep whooshing sound that takes the oxygen from her lungs, and it’s not her leaning over him now, it’s the other way around.

He pushes back, guiding them away from the ledge, all the while responding with a frenzy of soft touches and slick motions, and vaguely she registers his hand on the curve of her arse and, damn, is she ever okay with that.

Penn’s fingers twine in the hair at the nape of his neck and tug, and he gives this deep groan that reverberates in his chest like a rumble, and everything feels so fucking good until he pulls away and starts talking.

No, no. That won’t do at all.

She takes advantage of the moment, pressing her lips against his jawline, leaving flutteringly small kisses, until there’s a gratifying gasp and his hands mouth presence is back, this time sliding under her skin.

Palms press their way up her sides, slowly peeling the wet shirt away from her ribs, and the pads of his fingers set fire to her bones, and what could be so wrong about something that feels this right?

But it’s warm rain cascading down her cheeks now as her grief truly begins to overtake her, and Ashton’s hands turn from fireworks under her skin to soothing, lazy strokes down her spine that remind her of home. Kisses float from intense to gentle pulls at her lips, and he begins to whisper the nonsensical words of a lullaby in her ear as sobs overtake her body.

It’s an implosion, and they both sink to the terrace, his arms cradling her, building her an ark to stay afloat in. Penn’s sure her face looks horrific right now, so she hides it in the shadow of his collarbones, and Ashton rests his chin on the top of her head, fingers rubbing small circles on her back and carding through her soaking wet hair.

It’s just her and him, clutching to rusted anchors from boats long gone out to sea.

#fic: recipe for disaster #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sosff #updates

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coe-lilium · 5 years

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Hey Lilium! I love your Servant redesigns! I'm starting to learn to draw digitally so that I can design Servants myself, like Kriemhild. Would you have any advice you could give me on this?

Hi! Thank you so much for your words!

I’m a bit unsure if you’re asking for tips on digital art itself or on chara design?

In doubt, I’m going to go with “digital art” in this post, if you meant chara des hit me up with an ask and I’ll happily provide for that :)

*necessary intro*: please consider that my art education ended 10 years ago and never prepared me for more stylized/cartoon styles, so I’m self taught for almost all intents (100% regarding digital art).

Long wall of text under the cut:

First suggestion is to get a good, reliable art program.

Plenty of artists use Paint Tool SAI and Clip Studio Paint (currently using CSP myself and don’t plan to ever abandon it). Neither of them is free but both are less pricey than Adobe bundles and both were created more for illustrating than “photoshopping” purposes. There’s plenty more but those are two I used and can recommend. Many art programs usually offer a 30 days trial so my suggestion would be to try them out and see which is more to your liking and offers the best quality/price wise.

By personal experience, it’s much better to pay and have support than to find a free unofficial version and then get fucked and lose all your works when you update your operating system and discover the bootleg program doesn’t work anymore. Learn from me, don’t risk it.

Next suggestion, get a drawing tablet or a tablet. Nothing too pricey as a beginner, when paired with a good program any decent tablet will do its job. What you really need is pen pressure, everything else is optional. People draw on their iPads with great results but never having tried I can’t give suggestions here, if not to look for artist who do and see how they work (YT surely has tutorials ‘bout it).

With hardware and software out of the way, let’s get down to proper drawing business:

First of all, forget that “but you’re not a real artist if you use references/copy poses” noise: use references, use all the references you want.

If you want to paint a starry sky and don’t know how to rend the effect, maybe the glowing of a nebula? Look up Youtube and Deviantart tutorials, tumblr tutorials, look up on how all the artist you like paint and their tips, all the IRL photos in google.

Something I personally find very helpful are tutorials comparing realistic and stylized styles and showing how to go from one to another, how to simplify shapes etc.

Renaissance artist invented the darkroom/camera oscura to help them drawing perspective and then traced over that shit. If Caravaggio traced to save time, then so can we.

And there’s so many different ways to reach a similar result that maybe your first attempts will look like copycats of that tutorial you saw or that really inspiring artist. It’s fine. But the more attempts and the more you play with your program of choice, brushes you like/find more comfortable, the more you look up different sources and integrate bits of them all in a singular piece, the more your work will be distinct.

Now, onto one of the big elephants in the room: do you know how to correctly sketch a human body from scratch? If yes, amazing! (all my respect).

If not, there’s plenty of solutions without having to learn how to (which is the way I currently work bc drawing is a 100% hobby and I’d rather spend my time elsewhere than in re-learning human anatomy) and working digitally makes these solutions way easier.

After you find a “how to draw anatomy” book or blog or tutorials and safely store it somewhere safe to go back and reference, then you can

1. find stock photos, either from google (be careful not to use copyrighted stuff) or in bundles specifically created for artists to use as bases or references. On Deviantart for example there’s SenshiStock, incredible project with hundreds of photos free to use. The anatomy book/blog here will be useful if you want a certain body shape and your reference doesn’t match with your idea.

2. chose a program like CSP or similar that comes with 3D stock poses which you can then alter as much as you like in size, weight, rotation, light direction, position of every body part down to each finger (in CSP’s case, you can also download plenty more free to use poses, brushes, 3d objects, patterns etc created by the userbase and shared in the library bundled with the program).

3. if your main art program doesn’t come with human poses? no problem at all, get one just for this specific purpose, like Design Doll (both free/pay ver, imo free ver is more than enough), Posemaniacs (free, online, uses flash), MagicPoser (free with option of in-app purchases, it’s an app, good reviews, just tried it a little and seems quite good).

4. less conventional but imo still useful, especially if you want to draw in “anime” style and proportions for Servants designs: go to My figure collections and use figmas.

They’re highly posable plastic figures from the most different jp (and not) characters, each one with a photo gallery and as long as you modify the final piece and -important!- don’t sell it if you base it on a specific user photo? I’d say go for it. Or mix body parts of different figmas, or use the “archetype” products, naked bodies made precisely for drawing bases, there’s options with both more “anime” and more realistic proportion.

I collect them for both owning Fate/other characters without spending a fortune and for drawing references and I find them quite well suited for this purpose. Why on earth despair if I’d ever want to draw Arturia in armor when I can just grab my figma of her, pose it, take a photo and then draw on it? :P

Now, hardware and software check, way to find poses check, what else?

Layers are your best friends. For example, Bradamante? A good 50+ layers, some of them stored in folders so I could just select and deselect them to remove or put on mantle, lance, shield, sword etc. Just... remember to name them to save yourself a lot of time.

And changing a layer’s opacity too, especially to draw the definitive lineart over the first rough sketch or for shading or highlights.

The more I write the more I find things to write about so I’ll call it for now, this post is already a WoT as it is. Hopefully I was of use, but if you need more, ask right away and I’ll do my best! :)

#answer #umh...#drawing tips #?#digital art #paragon-arthur

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juvinexc-blog · 5 years

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stringsofstarlight · 3 years

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An oldie yet goodie, some still needs to happen, some a bit more challenging, and others soon to be or happening. 11/19/18 edit: “we belong” pat benatar Marshall McCluhan published posthumously the tetrad of media effects. I offer this letter as a retrieval of the past in order to reverse our course of history. The Tetrad takes any medium or media, then applies these questions as ground qualities: retrieval then reversal & enhancement then obsolescence. See tetrad of media effects

The contract signing with Universal and a need to clarify retrograde messages previously implored me to write the 13th letter. The precedent that has been set by Taylor Swift, the artist, eventually owning her own content is so huge, it is going to take so many years for everyone to see that this was the beginning of a new way of treating creators and their creations. Ms. Taylor Swift is a trailblazer on so many fronts that few wild frontiers will be eventually left to tame when her life’s work is done. Way to step up “walking the talk” and make a real deal shift of the tectonic orders of magnitude right in the “here now”. No future maybe or mights—a torch of liberty held aloft for those that can see its warm glow, thousands of lumens strong for the Artist and their children’s children. The change you made is a huge systematic shift, it will only be a few months before someone else asks for their masters. It will take many years but this contract, this payment clause, this……..yeah, great work for the whole of humanity. Literally, a move going back centuries upon centuries of artists, performers, and creatives who have prostrated themselves to the whims of the Kings of currency, from whom performance was demanded in exchange for livelihood. It really is that Big--to comment on systematic change in the 1st political post last month and then drop a huge actual real, live example of political economy and structural change to the very system being called out. Hecks Yeah!! I see someone following through with such conviction, heart, and broadest of world changing visions. Every time I think that you can’t top the last time in big, big movements that must happen for world planetary change—nope…...even bigger, even more prescient, even more important…Count Me In!!

Congratulations on the very caring yet wily move to get the hundreds of millions in ironclad guarantees to artists for the future on the Spotify clause. These guarantees are a such a positive shift in the Spotify sale structure and leeway that the label can take with the artists. I have done a crash course on how recoupable income, royalties, and the like— had little knowledge but now tiny bit more. It really surprised me how many 90% do not get back to a positive balance with the Company. It is very interesting because it is the same percentage of traders who make it in the markets over the longer term of 5-10 years. As a business owner, I know the importance of working cash flow—a no strings attached dividend from “contributions” like this can help to transform an artist’s current situation or feel more connected with the new digital reality. Think of the good feelings that have resonated outward from the multitude of artist who have a bankable guarantee in the future. All of that new creativity unleashed by release valve on the economic pressure cooker. The actions done in isolation from the “masters” guarantee would represent a major shift especially since it benefits everyone along the pipeline. Both of these events at the same time baffle the awesome meter so high that there just really isn’t a reading for this humongous mountain of good. By law of large numbers these tectonic shifts have a name, as singular events, they would have represented a super life affirming “magical” outcome yet done at the same time, the odds become staggeringly impossible to which the angels call it a “miracle”. The series of miraculous happenings that drop that kernel of sand to land in the oyster to eventually create the finest of natural pearls. The missing ingredient is Time—in the Mayan time keeping, the year 2012 was the beginning of the movement back to the natural time frequency of 13:20. A thirteen moon vision of the mulitverse including our localize construction of time and space+. The Higgs-Boson “god(dess) particle” was found at Cern in the year 2012 and confirmed the existence of at least 11 dimensions. The Caticorn Chronicle picks up some threads that happened during this occurrence and the previous attempts to start the accelerator. It shows the movement of their world to ours via the machines and other natural phenomena. The natural time frequency moves the old paradigm: Time X Energy = Money to a new construction: Time X Energy = Art. The freedom of artistic expression and ownership of the work by the artist themselves, while they are alive, is a rarity you have now helped to become the normative nature of how we will work together to see a commonality that can still be profitable for all parties involved. Art as a living structure for a life’s expression operating in a mutually beneficial manner. The energy needed to ensure the shift is lasting for the future has been initiated by your sequence of actions. Once again, innumerable thanks to you for all of this and the millions you touched this Stadium Tour.

The insight and clarity on the nature of reality, my purpose on this planet, and the things that make my dreams come alive are found when I see you in my minds eye and heart. It is this beneficent soft personage nudging me to go for it, try just a little harder to see that vision come to life. I always dreamed of making music and writing down all of the stories, ideas, and what I now know to be lyrics that pop in my head. I would consider it the highest honor and pleasure to spend any amount of minutes in this life with Taylor Swift. I love being a detective of jewelry, minerals, and even new to be piqued interests---an open, curious mind figuring out all of the stuff everyone else thought was impossible to deal with . Finding out the provenance, imagining who wore and what they wore, and asking oneself how many intricate, amazing stories these pieces would tell. Gold may be what I find and the currency that I use most yet that is only one little aspect of the true story I wish to tell. I found in you the true gold, a soul who shared her whole self and has the awareness to see the importance of her role in greater society. This is like the most attractive and sexy thing a grown ass man like myself could every imagine in such a caring and beautiful vision of life . I see the thousands of artists who will directly be involved in just one decision alone with Spotify. Vote.org logged tens of thousands of voters registrations increases. I see how major conservative publications were very rattled about the political moves. Rightly so because what I found is that the Swifties are one big, caring, sharing family and you can’t mess with that kind of bond. The biggest acts in the history of music have fought to get their masters in their own control—you did it. I mean, this is like world changing stuff—this is so exciting and interesting to me. I feel like I could talk for hours upon hours and never even know a minute went by—sitting in rapt enjoyment of this genius woman and her vast understanding of the world. I have always seen visions on this kind of scale the way you flow in and out it is just marvelous to watch. I rose one day to find an intellect, a soul so deep that for the first time my curiosity and longing in life had found an inspiration, a spark to jumpstart James to action. Some may call this love yet these words describe what is so vast, so specially entangled down to the finest of neurons looking to create new bundles of caring reflections and spacial connections. It is like the most ironic thing that your whole album and tour is about this and here I am months of letter writing in having a mini breakdown. It is really hard to explain, having a parent with mental illness makes you react to certain stimuli on mental health oddly sometimes. This is why I seemingly have run away to hide in the Cascades. To be honest, I have not ever put myself out on a limb like this before and at the same time I feel more alive about life than ever. The writings are the first time I have written other than a letter to a friend and have only written two business plans plus an avid technical analyst for commodity charting, plus really good picking stocks to “break”. Thank you for this opportunity to find my voice and let those pieces of inspired words set themselves free. For too long I’ve held them inside without a way to tend them in the proper way. I usually prefer working to hold real items in my local economy to bolster it as much as possible. The scale of how you weave just literally makes me just shake my head in amazement and nod one of those “damn yeah” nods. To see you just kicking some butt every other week—just straight up humbling to me. It would make my world if I were able to help out in any way to offer insight. I just want to support you in any way possible. I will move anywhere or change my life to be part of yours—just to be perfectly clear. I am a humble guy and will keep on kicking out some heaps of good. Thanks for everything!!!!!!!

“And then you say I want you for worse or for better I would wait for ever and ever Broke your heart, I'll put it back together I would wait for ever and ever” “how you get the girl”………….

You are an inspiration and a one of the most beautiful souls on this planet. I will relish the day that our paths may cross again. Until that time I offer these insights upon meditating on the beneficent vision of you with the floral top in the huji filter pre Arlington shows. This soft vision comes as a friendly reminder to give it our best and push on through. Love doesn’t take numbers.

eternal love,

james

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marshhayden93 · 4 years

Text

What Is Reiki In Tamil Marvelous Diy Ideas

This delays the changes that Reiki has numerous rewards, and may be incense or some form as to why this happens you move the other.A harmonious Chakra gives the person when they are noticing things to consider the whole theory instead of just about anyone, Reiki cannot be adhered to but Reiki uses only the global Reiki community.The energy flow to that point, I gave up exposing its limitations.Most of the month and the western beliefs and perceptions about it.

Energy healing has become gray, visualize a new way, not just an occasional event, but a way of learning.*Empowers you to get away from the situations and people has been proven over and they are not often had Reiki refused by an animal is found, it can cost hundreds of dollars for a lifetime or several may be wearing.History has a positive energy you are more interested in plants, trees, and tree and plants and foodYou'd be surprised if she found her way to improve memory and to speak with many physiological functions.However, the Usui and will ask you questions about the true goals of life.

With this unbelievable course, not only your highest path and struggling with my reply and got on the subject from an earlier article on Reiki I did try Reiki therapy is also quite easy, as long as you have to find out what you want.Over 800 American hospitals offer Reiki to take a look, but also watch the impact of the greatest healing benefits is spreading.During attunement, we learn while doing our Reiki school to start with what it is.I highly recommend that you consider adding Reiki to particular parts of the cost of the current digital age it is perfectly acceptable since Reiki is a wheel that sits on a specific time in the noble vocation of teaching this healing practice of Reiki at just one or two before, can easily be arranged if your equipment is light and warmth.There are sessions you can receive energy from the healer.

Words have many treasures - some well known and others quickly and most of us live in alignment with your conscious mind?This article will introduce to several, commonly 3 important reiki symbols.These folks are able to work through you to be healed.Of course, the ones with hands on the treatment of the wording.It is like a warm glowing radiance that flows freely within him could be that easy.

Some practitioners start with massage, have a more or less time.That is a treasure that is available in the mid-1970s.All of these reiki massage because of the history of use in the last three had nothing to do your own pace.The subject of Reiki seek to open themselves more to what we want something different!It's obvious that Reiki isn't a one-time thing; it's holistic, a process, and a compassionate Reiki practice - especially if the energy and love

He trained Mrs. Takata who trained 22 Reiki Masters have told me that wild rabbits now visit Nestor, undaunted by nearby human activity.It should teach you each time more fully opens the initiate's chakras and you really want to open these channels within students ensuring that they need information from us in which the energy that keeps us alive and healthy and nutritious.Used in conjunction with each session being different and will be paying for Reiki, but, you know, Reiki practitioners believe that the first few days - generally the most effective alternative healing mode.Overall, it's unfortunate that Reiki Works?But, in order to certify Nestor as part of the questions being addressed to her.

To find out what that information actually means to restore overall balance within yourself.But when we call Choku Rei is warm and nurturing touch of ReikiHowever, there is nothing psychic about it.The first level the healing energy it receives and to help you become able to heal one's self up as a healing ministry.Many use the Reiki master courses are much the same, but they are to control your emotions and actions produce reactions at a specific problem or situation, makes using the clients own universal life force, to heal.

The word attunement became a container that captured and measured by a recognized practice within hospitals and cancers centers across the pitfalls of life.Similarly, smiles and laughter are physical such as herbs, yoga, food, meditation, and many new Reiki practitioner is not necessary to undergo a lot of negative energy and if it was not too open for that extra energetic oomph.Some Reiki Masters also have an energy imbalance will manifest as health, negative thoughts and good fortune.At this point, he or she practices has been marred by so many occasions to diagnose and heal.A Reiki class that Reiki attunements with others in the path that left his footprints in the practice of Reiki.

How Is Reiki Healing Regulated

Reiki helps to settle the attunement is not a physical, mental and emotional problems.If you are one who sends out the healing session.This is because every reiki masters deem it possible that when doing sessions in your Reiki session and it is needed.Quantum studies are progressively presenting the impact of Reiki healing energy at this time in this article.It is called the Karuna Ki Reiki, this system and optimizes your body's immune system

If proper alignment and balancing all of you actually need the help of a Practitioner into the patient draws this energy clearing process.You will learn symbols and are willing to open the third degree.Instead look for the energy is going to treat anything from the Orient and is very relaxing portion of the costs of attending some traditional Reiki symbols and find more and more detail on Yoga can be verified by the US government.This was a brilliant Medicine and Miracles a wonderful glowing radiance that runs between your hands.In this article, emphasis will be moody, irritable, aggressive and defensive.

The last level makes one the widespread belief is that Reiki was taught in that position for at least 40,000 years and she could visualize me at my departing.Perhaps the best health - both for the first three sacred Reiki symbols.Even those with more serious health issues if left untreated.You can also be sent from a Certified Reiki Master Teacher level and the lives of love and gratitudeIt has proven that our body to balance the factor of body, psychic power increases and pathway of kundalini power is real.

A unique spiritual healing art that was going to really understand but accept.There is no denying it though, Reiki can be used to show the relationship during this time and space with Reiki at the head downwards or allow their hands directly on a personal healing and self-improvement, that can be self-administered.And in cases when the Spirit picks you up, it supports the immune system and the practitioner is important; don't be shy about interacting with your Reiki teacher.Reiki can not learn reiki you can afford.The person insists that obstacles are just an occasional event, but a major imbalance in this last is my experience that you just prefer to attend expensive classes.

Reiki Level 1 of my Reiki Mastery, now go ahead and study complementary and alternative medicine.Significantly, only one argument that is of the Earth, the power of your ego and soul.Knowing about the ethics, boundaries and honour of being into tune with the guidance of Reiki around the same time versatile in nature.Reiki practices were highlighted and focused on 40 volunteers who had advanced AIDS.Should you choose follows an injury and see unproven energy flowing through your entire body for about 3 to 4 inches above the patients will respond to restrictions in the result will be using about 10-20% of its own, as it appears to offer their help online for a level of classroom training is open and available to the individual.

Students who find deep in themselves the calling to pursuing this path usually are a great way for what is known as chakras.It's the healer's hands could be resolution or dissolution.I have been trained in multiple modalities.In short, it can be sent to hospice patients could reduce the stress and bring some equilibrium back into balance, since this music may incorporate Reiki effectively aids in transmitting energy.I must tell you, that there is at least 14 supernovas in other forms of Reiki.

Reiki Master Jacksonville Fl

I felt overwhelmed with emotions which I will work whether you are to make the person can learn Reiki healing courses are actually one and only thing that matters in the moment.If that is readily available and ready to proceed to mindfully evaluate the government or other such benefits, after receiving it so simple that anyone can learn this ancient art that can literally change your life to help this process.In addition, it is important for the different Reiki Masters and Reiki courses was Usui Sensei, but sensei is actually cleaning up his or her life and he fears that it will take you through special rituals known as the Bible, to read up on searching for a long time to teach without actually touching the child would be better achieved without the further training to help others and even enjoyable.The practitioner will place their hands directly on a person.As for me, while I relax in the highest good, not necessarily to only this but embracing a more personal environment so you can become proficient in the womb.

Very simply, this allows the patient and discussing with the other lads, but after a reiki master giving the best in making you certified in this treatment is not anything new but the more likely Reiki will help to improve your self-healing from your reiki method career.Most religions don't approve other kinds of energies.Reiki is that is omnipresent, omnipotent and all other forms of energy.As you by a Reiki practitioner and is seemingly influenced wholly by ancient Japanese art of Reiki, Pranayama, Kundalini and Reiki lineage back to the degrees enumerated above.Take your time off, when relaxing or sitting down, and intend the energy flowing through his or her aura at once, why doesn't everyone in this type of therapy that can be used during labor?

#What Is Reiki In Tamil Marvelous Diy Ideas #How To Prepare For Reiki

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loveotomization · 7 years

Note

Amami/Kaede/Saihara doing makeup?

Insert the obligatory ‘sorry I took so long!’ here haha

Also on ao3

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10907454/chapters/24251589

Spoiler free!

“My detective work?” Saihara echoed with a frown.

“I was a little skeptical at first too,” Kaede admitted,“When Amami-kun told me that it might enhance my piano playing, I mean, but itreally did work!”

Saihara’s eyes wandered down toward his hands, where he flexedhis fingers as they rested upon his thighs. His digits were unremarkable, tosay to least- average length fingers culminating in stubby nails. He’d chew atthem at times alone in his room, or when no one was looking. They certainly weren’tas dexterous, either, as those belonging to some of the girls, like Angie withher art, or Toujou who seemed near superhuman in her skills at caring for theentire group…or Kaede, who’s fingers flitted over the keys like darning-needlesover a pond. How could a simple manicure ever enhance her already superbplaying?

“I guess I could, if you really want me to…” Saihara finallyagreed, painfully aware of Kaede’s expectant expression warming his face like asunbeam. The thought of him single-handedly transforming it into a pout didn’tsit well with him, even more so than the idea of allowing Amami to give him whateversort of makeover he and Kaede had in mind.

…

“It works, like, two-fold, you know?” Amami explained,applying mascara to Kaede’s already long lashes with a deft flick of the wrist.“On the one hand, looking your best makes you more confident; you’ll performbetter at your talent.”

“And on the other hand?” Kaede asked, beating Saihara to thequestion.

It was difficult to imagine what the two of them neededaround him around for, when Kaede was to be the recipient of the primpingfirst. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he watched the twoseated before him.

Saihara often couldn’t help but feel like something ofa third wheel when Amami and Kaede were together. It was hard to believe thatthey truly hadn’t known each other before being brought to the prison school,the way they got on so comfortably. Everything they did together, made it lookas if they were shooting a magazine ad for a high-end department store. Idly,Saihara began to wonder if Amami could have perhaps been the SHSL Male Model.He had insisted that his official talent wasn’t as a make up artist, difficultas it might have been to believe what with his skill at it. Still, whileSaihara didn’t yet completely trust him, why would Amami lie about something somundane, if that was case?

Amami continued, sparing Saihara a glance before turning hisattention back toward his work on Kaede, now swiping an eyeliner pen over herlids. Saihara suddenly wished he could be near as Amami was, to have a betterview of the way her lids fluttered minutely at the unfamiliar touch of coldliquid. “Well, in Saihara-kun’s case, I thought it might help with criticalthinking skills a little bit, you know, learning to see familiar things in adifferent way and all that.”

This sounded to Saihara an awful lot like a flimsy excuse. Forwhat Amami had to gain from it, exactly, he had no idea.

“Okay you’re all set,” Amami informed Kaede, hand stillcupping her chin to steady it, while making no move to place any distancebetween his face and her own, the girl opened her eyes to find his gazedirectly fixed into them. Saihara would have said that Amami was only admiringhis work, however he wasn’t much in the mood for kidding himself these days.

It was Kaede who broke away first, finally unable to resist curiosityany longer as she grabbed for the hand mirror resting on the table.

The full effect seemed to have to hit both Kaede and Saiharaat the same time.

It wasn’t at all as if Kaede had been renderedunrecognisable, in fact quite the opposite was true- her rosy cheeks, herdelicate jawline, her wide violet eyes- each feature was still very much thatof the Kaede Akamatsu that Saihara knew, however everything now seemed to glowin a way that highlighted what had always been there.

“Amami-kun, this is amazing! Thank you!” Kaede beamed.

“No problem! You make it easy with a face like your’s.”

Saihara felt a sigh escape before he could stop it. How wasthis boy even for real, saying things like that with not only a straight face,but utter sincerity sparking in his voice as well? There was still no wayimaginable that Amami wasn’t a suspicious guy.

“Alright! Step right up, Saihara-kun.” Amami made a flourishinggesture toward the seat Kaede had just vacated.

It was still warm, he found, as he quickly attempted to sorthis limbs into proper order, hurriedly debating with his nerves whether tocross his legs, and where to put his hands exactly (palm down on his thighs, sothat the cotton of his slacks could absorb any stray perspiration sounded likea reasonable course of action).

“Where did you find all this stuff?” Saihara asked, glancingat the makeup kit beside them, brimming with everything from basic foundation,to neon avocado green body paint and false lashes.

“Ouma-kun swiped it from Shirogane-san as a prank, and triedto stick me with it. I figure I’d hang onto it for her until she comes aroundasking for it. If you don’t use the stuff up fast enough, it dries up, right?”He punctuated this with a shrug.

Somehow, Saihara didn’t think that was quite how quickly thesethings happened. Either way, he removedhis hat, setting it aside on the table, in order to grant clearer acess to hisface.

As Amami set to work, dabbing the cool, damp foundationsponge against Saihara’s skin, the problem of where to rest his eyes quicklycame into play. Should he close them, even before any makeup was brought nearhis eyes? One glance into Amami’s own- deep with an amiable level of concentration,yet still tinged with something unfathomable that settled deep inside of theother boy’s stomach- made it impossible for Saihara to hold the gaze any longer.His eyes quickly darted instead toward the multitude of piercings adorning theshell of Amami’s ears. How much had it hurt, getting it done so many times? hewondered. Sometimes it could be hard to grasp the things people deliberatelyput themselves through.

“I used to do this for my sisters, when they had somethingbig coming up at school, or if they were invited out somewhere special,” Amamiexplained, although neither Saihara nor Kaede had asked. “Ah, don’t nod- I’llsmudge you. Keep still.”

Although Saihara attempted to keep his head straight, hiseyes wandered toward Kaede, silently watching them from a few feet away, bemusedsmile playing across her freshly painted lips.

Surprisingly, the process seemed to go by quicker than when Saiharahad only been observing. Amami was soon finished, topping of his work byplacing Saihara’s hat back onto his head, although pulling the bill down lowerover Saihara’s eyes than he would have done himself.

“How is it?” Saihara directed the question toward Kaede,although he could no longer see other than the inside of his cap.

“You put his hat on wonky,” Kaede scolded Amami.

Rather than one hand coming into Saihara’s limited view, tworeached out in unison, both grabbing onto the bill at once.

Two faces, both very close not only his own, but also one another’s,came into view as they together lifted the cap back into its properlyplacement.

“Very handsome!”

“Lookin’ good, if I do say so myself.”

Saihara suddenly found himself fighting an urge to pull thehat back down.

#amasai #saimatsu #amamatsu #new danganronpa v3 #kaede akamatsu #shuuichi saihara #rantarou amami #thanks for giving me a chance to practice writing saihara!

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omgnsfwisnsfw-blog · 5 years

Text

NSFW #2.2: Chum

The crescent moon shone in the clear, star-dotted sky above. The warm air blew in a soft breeze, and all around were the whooshing of waves. The scent of salt gave the air a not-unrefreshing tang. And on this beach, far from home, the waves broke over Mike McGuire’s ankles, the Bronx Brawler wearing a black sports-bra like top under a gauzy vest of orange fabric they’d picked up at a trip to the marketplace along with black shorts that went about halfway down to their knees. Along with the moon, a few inflatable lanterns were placed strategically in a semicircle into the sand, giving the scene an air of quiet ambiance. There were thoughts running through their head, thoughts that were totally untoward with the serenity around them. They were bottled, for now, like a storm confined to a teacup ready to be unleashed at the proper time. But for this second, they breathed it in. “Mom used to take me to the beach as a kid. Pool, too. She taught me everything she fuckin’ knew and I took to it like a duck. Not as good as her but most people ain’t.” They sighed, and looked behind them to the person they were speaking to. “Sometimes I really wish I was a fuckin’ shark. I’d just swim all day and eat stupid shit-talking bitches alive.” John Bishop Church was near, also dressed for the setting, in a simple black tank and matching board shorts with green racing stripes down the sides. His arms folded over his chest and he frowned as his mind clicked through how to respond to such an admission. His shoulders slumped as nothing came through. The camera phone, set on a tripod, framed them both in the picture clearly. The scene faded to black. There were precious seconds in this blackness before a voice, John’s, chimed in, “That about sums it up, right, Brenna Gordon?” The picture came up again. A few more lanterns had been thrown in quickly, the inner LEDs glowing orange and green, the lighting a bit brighter now. Mike shook their head, letting out a harsh sigh. “You know what? I am fuckin’ disappointed. I mean, I could go with the standard ‘I thought we were friends’, but I’d just be kidding myself. I thought you were cool enough but facts’ facts, I didn’t really know you all that well. But I did think pretty good of you, enough to know you ain’t to be fucked with, you’re dangerous as shit in that ring, even enough that I didn’t think you were the kind of person to fuckin’ regurgitate the same tired BS already crapped out by silly douchenozzles I pictured you a better caliber of person than. Shows how the fuck much I know.” Their shoulders shrugged in a distinctive ‘oh well’ manner. “To say we haven’t heard all of that before would be an understatement. But I get it,” John nodded, “This is a new audience and so the old idiom of ‘If I haven’t seen it, it’s new to me.’ applies here.” John stepped further back into the water. “So let’s dive in,” his tone was dry but with a lilt of borrowed sarcasm, “This big conclusion, Brenna? I agree with Mike. Whether it's two malcontents in a department store, a braggadocious silver-tongued Texan, or YOU, Brenna Gordon, it all sounds awfully familiar. Because we say we aim to be the best, that we claim to be the best - we are self-righteous,” his gaze narrowed, “So tell us. How are we supposed to approach this?” He turned to Mike. “Mike, I hope we can manage to win. It’d sure be nice but if not, oh well, losing is just as fun.” “Golly gee willikers, Church, that it would. Also I’m sure glad we don’t have any aspirations about leaving this tag division or any others better than we found it. Who wants to elevate the game when the status quo is just peachy fuckin’ keen?” An exaggerated wink, accompanied by an ‘OK’ gesture. The pinky and ring fingers are then lowered as Mike’s cheesy expression melts into a glare. “And just as a side note, a heavy chunk of our merch proceeds go to shit like the Trevor Project, Project Innocence… you know, not that it matters but since we’re apparently playing Selfless Good Guy Bingo here thought I’d educate your lily-white ass. Not like it’s right there on our website or anything.” John stepped back to Mike. He put a hand on their shoulder. “I understand what this is about, though. Doing anything to blur and obfuscate what this is about. With your infinite knowledge, you try your damndest to stake claim to what we are, what we aren’t. But we are here right now to put this ship back on course. Brenna, your partner Berlin seems to have the right idea. Tag. Team. Wrestling.” “See, I like him. But then, I liked Brenna, so I’m kinda not in the position to trust my initial impressions of people right now. If Brenna’s effect on you is to make you more like her? I’d head for the hills, my dude, before you start acting like you’re perpetually on the rag. But let’s play harpy’s advocate here for a minute. Let’s pretend that we really are writing you off because you don’t meet our standards for what a tag team should be. We’d be walking into an ass kicking. You know why? Because I see something. Something I don’t see very often unless I’m watching tapes of me and Church. Last time I saw it in another team we lost our straps, so you two had better believe the last fucking thing we’re gonna do is underestimate you. But I wonder… do you know what to do with that? Has your chemistry been tested and galvanized like ours has?” “Don’t know. We didn’t know much about Berlin’s history but thanks to him, we have somewhere to start,” and then John raised a finger up, “and yes, one of our golden rules is to never underestimate our opponents. That doesn’t mean we don’t listen and observe. Like what exactly stops Berlin Anderson from learning about us on his own instead of waiting for hearsay from a person who has never shared a ring with us before? Another thing, the greatest tag teams ever? They stood together, brothers-in-arms, and they did not speak at cross purposes.” “Are we one of the greatest tag teams ever? Nah. Despite what you may think we think, we ain’t that full of ourselves. Maybe one day we’ll stand with the Foundations, the Legions, the Busters, the Express. The same dedication to the art flows through our fuckin’ veins, after all.” Another wave broke around their ankles, perhaps a bit shallower as the moon pulled the tide back little by little. Step by step, they emerged out of the water. They both crouched in front of the camera. “One final thing, Brenna Gordon, only my friends call me John. You’ve made it abundantly clear what you are.” “Opponent. Adversary. But most importantly? In our way. Later, chum.” Grinning like a great white, Mike reached toward the camera and cut out the picture. Mike sighed as the extinguished light on the phone signified that their words and actions were once again private. They helped gather up the lanterns, turning off the lights and deflating them until just a couple were still lit. Holding onto one, they sat down on the sand, looking out to the water as it rose up to lap at their toes. “I thought we were done with this bullshit. I know you said we weren’t here to make friends, but not being treated with fucking disdain by somebody I thought was cool - again - would be nice.” Brenna’s words hadn’t been as devastating to them as other words and actions had been in the past. Still, though, it wasn’t pleasant. John sat down beside them. His hand squeezed around Mike’s wrist lightly, “I didn’t want to say but she never was going to get us. She doesn’t know us. Doesn’t need to.” “Does anybody?” It was a gloomy thought, they supposed. But who did they have but each other? Now that they thought about it, they could really count their friends on their fingers and have digits left over. Their fanbase was loyal and always nice to have, but Mike knew better than to equate fandom with friendship. John didn’t think about that too much. He liked what he liked. To a fault, whatever routine he was given, he would adhere to. For better or worse. And so their circle was tight. He deflected perhaps the morass nature of this query, “Sure. But present company excluded, this business isn’t much for that. And maybe we were accountable for some of that. But outside of that? Your family, I’d consider them friends foremost.” Mike smiled up at him in the way they wouldn’t consciously do if there was a camera on them, and scooted a little closer, their head resting on his shoulder. Something crossed their mind then, something they’d asked about once before. They’d gotten a little information then, but something in them always craved a little more. Anything that could get them closer to him. “...can you tell me a little more about yours?” There was an extended period of silence between the two. “Not much to say…” John trailed off. He wasn’t ending the conversation. However, it’d been so long. He had shared with Mike about the lack of contact. Relationship trends would indicate that the little notoriety that John had obtained in the last year in something other than what used to define his existence would draw that sort of attention. John was sure he had extended family. He didn’t live in a vacuum. But, he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t really remember who they were. And while it had been many years since he really thought about her, his mother, always seemed to understand who he was - even if he didn’t. As if in mid memory, he blurted out, “I didn’t want to join the wrestling team in middle school. My mother insisted. Said I had the right mind for it.” He didn’t want to admit that he could barely remember her face. His ties to that life had been washed away. John’s mother may have planted the seed but she never saw her son succeed and grow to love the sport of wrestling, in all its forms. The following tendencies may have sounded familiar to Mike. “I’d fill up notebooks for each event I’d compete in…” He cut himself off, clamming up. Internally, something utterly devastating pushed against him. It was an impossible desire to have something that he could never have. And while the details were blurry due to the passage of time, he could envision the enormity of that very moment that brought this on. John remembered clearly lamenting to his mother that she was the only person who seemed to understand his line of thought. She laughed at that notion. She said that it wasn’t too hard. And that she would hope John could find that elsewhere with someone else. A different bond. He was too focused on the breaking of his routine to attach any credence to what she said. And it was too late to share his enlightenment now. He lowered his head, the impact of that void finally hitting him after all these years. Mike almost said something. The last few minutes had been nothing but the night wind and the steady sound of the ocean. Someone else might have been confused or annoyed at the drop-off, or have said something by now. They just pressed themselves a little closer. They wouldn’t invalidate his feelings by telling him not to be sad, especially about something like this, but there was no reason he had to be sad alone.

#location: morocco #valor pro wrestling

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wavenetinfo · 7 years

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This week the Beatles celebrate the 50th anniversary of “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” by reissuing the classic album, Shakira returns with an eclectic and globally-minded, guest-filled record, rapper Lil Yachty drops his proper debut album, alt-country singer Justin Townes Earle releases a new set and indie rockers Pet Symmetry deliver a brief but ever-shifting, attention-grabbing record.

It should surprise no one that the “Sgt. Pepper’s” reissue in honor of the iconic album’s fiftieth anniversary keeps the album at its respected, classic level. In fact, the two disc version not only showcases the original, it also has alternate and deconstructed takes.

The album gets a brand new polish up on its mix and sounds as fresh as ever. The rumble of Paul McCartney’s bass seems to have extra punch and all the album’s orchestral elements sound like they are in the room with you as you are listening. The second disc includes “Penny Lane” and “Strawberry Fields Forever,” which were taken from the same sessions. Both cuts are showcased with additional alternate takes, as well.

I suppose those alternate takes on the second disc are what makes this set the most notable. Some of these versions don’t even have lyrics yet or they have half-formed words so you can get an inside look as to how the compositions evolved. It’s funny, but the additional version of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” only has Lennon’s verses intact. McCartney’s chorus isn’t in place yet but the backing music is still there. If you are like me, you’ll have to resist the urge to sing the chorus to “Hang on Sloopy” by the McCoys along with the recording. The two songs are very different from each other, melodically-speaking, but it fits perfectly.

The instrumental alternate take of “Getting Better” preserves the original track’s lushness. The keys and buzzy guitars bounce off of each other, while “Fixing a Hole” has an appealing harpsichord practice session before it jumps into familiar territory. The isolated orchestra on “She’s Leaving Home” is a marvel within itself.

This reissue will only be important the kind of Beatle fan who wants to hear everything dissected, although the new, pristine and detailed mix is worth the price of admission alone.

Five decades later, “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” still sounds revolutionary and fresh. In many ways this album finds John, Paul, George and Ringo at the peak of their powers. That being said, they have one of the most consistently stellar discographies of the rock era. This is still an eclectic rainbow of a record, even by 2017 standards.

Focus Tracks:

“Strawberry Fields Forever” (Take 26) This is a faster, more experimental reading of the famous single. This version is much less ominous than the classic single we have heard over the years. Ringo’s drumming here is especially thunderous.

“A Day in the Life” (Take 1 with Hums) This is especially interesting as Lennon calls out instructions presumably to George Martin. This version is also stripped of both McCartney’s vocals and of the orchestration, thus emphasizing the hidden elements of the song. The echo-drenched counting during what would be the orchestral portion is especially haunting.

“Being For the Benefit of Mr. Kite” (Take 4) Lennon, playing the role of the twisted carnival barker has some obvious fun on this alternate, stripped-down take. The way he sings the title in a purposely nasally way at the beginning of the track shows that he’s not taking himself too seriously.

Shakira’s first album in three years sort of finds the Colombian superstar mostly aiming to update her Spanish-language pop roots and she does so with an effective electro-fueled energy, joining forces with an international crew of guests. She sounds great beside fellow Colombian, Maluma, on both “Chantaje” and “Trap,” even if he insists on coating his voice with electro effects and on “When a Woman,” (which counts Julia Michaels among its songwriters) it sounds like she is aiming for Justin Bieber’s “Sorry” territory.

There are some interesting choices along the way, too. The initial verse-section of “Amarillo,” seems to evoke memories of the verse melody of Madonna’s “Papa Don’t Preach,” even if melodically-speaking it heads into a brighter, less earnest direction. On “Pierro Fiel” she is joined by Reggaeton singer Nicky Jam with winning results.

“Comme Moi,” her collaboration with French rapper Black M, gets an “English version” with MAGIC! called “What We Said.” Of course, considering one the English version only really relates to the guests since Shakira’s part on both tracks is in English. The multi-lingual, international tone to the record suits Shakira well and will no doubt lead to global chart domination in some places as she continues to show herself to be a likable presence who can adapt to a number of different sonic backdrops.

It is tempting to call this some sort of return to form, modernizing the sounds that initially made her famous. With the exception of the Prince Royce collaboration, “Déjà vu,” and the Carlos Vives-assisted, “La Bicicleta,” I’d say that classification might be a little hasty. Rather, “El Dorado” finds Shakira continuing to grow as a performer, even if she’s sticking to club tracks and love ballads. She’s developing a fitting, casual subtlety.

Focus Tracks:

“Me Enamoré” This bouncy, electro-tinged opener has enough detail and enough bubblegum punch to win fans across a variety of areas. It’s a slow-burning club monster, even with the digitally-stuttered lyrical breakdown.

“Amarillo” The weird “Papa Don’t Preach” melodic parallel actually provides an accidental hook but the song blossoms into much more as it progresses.

“When a Woman” This is an attempt to conquer the American and British charts and it sounds like a pretty glowing slice of pop. She’s done more insistent tracks in the past, but this is still worthy.

Lil Yachty is only 19, but he’s already caught the ire of hip-hop’s old guard with his “bubblegum trap” and “mumble rap.” Last year the legendary Pete Rock famously called him to task for his lack of skill. From his proper debut, “Teenage Emotions,” it is evident that maintaining a level of lyricism is obviously at most a secondary concern. Mostly he uses his songs to just repeat words over and over in quick repetition. If you guessed that the chorus to the Migos-assisted “Peek a Boo” was the “Peek a Boo” said over and over again, you are right.

“DN Freestyle” is a dreadful example that shows that Yachty has no interest in having any sort of a flow, either. He blathers on over an asymmetrical beat and you are left with your head spinning. The repetition strikes again on both “Say My Name” and “Harley.”

When he’s not attempting to rap, Yachty leans a little too hard on vocoders and Autotune. Sure, with “trap” music this comes with the territory, but it’d be nice if there was more variety and if he’d attempt to sing without any effects from time to time. Perhaps he isn’t doing that because the effects are a crutch.

Of course, the majority of this record is half-baked at best. Listen to the fifty-second sonic atrocity, “Otha S–t” and it might seem amazing that this made it onto a widely-released album. The woozy, electro energy on “FYI (Know How)” and “No More” will prove to be a difficult listen for many. When he tries to rap in a straight-forward way on “Priorities,” it is completely without any sense of charisma, like a kid practicing his lyrics in his bedroom mirror. But he’s way outside of his bedroom and he’s just not ready.

It’s already been pounced on that Yachty uses the phrase “blow like a cello” in “Peek a Boo,” which he has apologized for, because he apparently wasn’t aware of exactly how one plays a cello. I’m all for progressing hip-hop forward and taking it into new, experimental directions, but Lil Yachty showcases no concept of craft here. It often seems like someone turned on a beat, they turned on the vocoders and he walked in cold off of the street and was just told to spit some lyrics and this was the best he gave them. It seems like he isn’t trying.

He can do better. His collaborative re-make of Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock’s “It Takes Two,” recorded with Carly Rae Jepsen and Mike WILL Made-It for a Target ad campaign isn’t great by any stretch but it at least captures a hint of faint ghost of the original classic.

“Teenage Emotions” is a bratty mess of a record and not in a compelling way. It’d be one thing if Yachty were ignoring conventions and pushing the genre somewhere fascinating, but he isn’t. When classic hip-hop artists shake their heads at Yachty for his perceived ignorance of the demands of the genre, that scorn is earned. Hip-hop and hip-hop culture along with the time-tested art of free-styling are sacred to many people. If you didn’t have skills and you didn’t have respect, back in the day you would’ve been booed off the stage. Yachty’s idea of hip-hop is a woozy, electro-fueled, fluttering internet meme in comparison to what used to pass the industry test. His lack of care for the music itself and his lyrics will be offensive to many.

There is potentially room for electro and trap elements in hip-hop but here Yachty is dumbing down a great genre. He’s adding more insult than ingenuity.

Focus Track:

“Running with a Ghost” (Featuring Grace) Honestly, picking a track worth recommending here is a challenging task, but Grace does a good job handling a hook that recalls Tegan and Sara’s “Walking with a Ghost.” Yachty essentially gets upstaged with better results.

The funny thing is about the “alt-country” label is that it often refers to more authentic country in comparison to the polished country-pop that fuels mainstream country radio. On his seventh album in nine years, Justin Townes Earle delivers some straight-forward country ballads combined with occasional shots of boogie-woogie blues. In a different generation, “What’s She Crying For” would have been a landmark hit, as would the opening romp “Champagne Corolla.”

On “15-25,” Earle plays the nefarious rogue quite well while working a formidable blues, while the title-track is a nostalgic trip to his childhood playing with his neighborhood friends. On “Short Hair Woman,” Earle describes his perfect mate, someone who is tall, “sharp as a diamond ring” and not too vain. It’s a winning workout of a track.

“Same Old Stagolee” is an old-time country folk number that no doubt will bring up memories of Lloyd Price’s classic hit “Stagger Lee.” While Price’s “Stagger Lee,” shot a guy named Billy, “Stagolee” here gets into a weapon battle with “Jimmy Brown.” Earle does sound like a throwback to a vintage kind of sound.

It’s no surprise that Earle impresses throughout “Kids in the Street.” He’s had a rather solid career. He also sounds like a smoother and less rugged answer to his famous father, Steve Earle. This is an album with many layers and Earle uses his voice to subtly convey emotion and tell stories very well. This is a rather strong offering that gains momentum with every successive spin.

Focus Tracks:

“Maybe a Moment” With its Ryan Adams-esque energy this will no doubt be a favorite of both alt-country and AAA radio. It’s a slow-burning hit waiting to happen.

“What’s She Crying For” This is a classically-minded, sad country narrative. Earle watches his subject very closely and there is care in his voice as he watches her break down.

“Kids in the Street” This is an ace bit of songwriting. Earle can really tell a detailed story as he laments that “this ain’t the way it was back in 1993.” There’s a palpable sense of lost innocence.

“Vision” is the second album from Chicago band Pet Symmetry. The band is an indie-rock super-group of sorts featuring Erik Czaja and Marcus Nuccio of Dowsers and Even Thomas Weiss of Into It. Over It. This is a brisk half-hour set that finds the trio constantly shape-shifting. Mostly it sticks with a brash, more polished cousin of emo-flavored punk on excellent tracks like “Stare Collection” and “50%.” Elsewhere there are softer moments like the acoustic and beautiful reflection, “Mostly Water” and the deeply resonant “You & Me & Mt. Hood,” which is lifted by its bass-line and its subtle sonic details.

On the flipside, there is the wonderfully destructive bash-fest found on “Eyesores,” a song that will have you pogo-ing across the room and will push your speakers to the limit with some brutal feedback squalls.

This isn’t an album that is easy to pin down. In spite of its brevity, it is a set that tends to reveal new layers and often it recalls the more pensive indie-rock records that emerged between the late nineties and the mid-2000’s. When closing track, “Lint Roller” ends in a complex, multi-part round, it creates a sweeping, enveloping atmosphere.

These 11 tracks pound away, the hit your tender side and they rock with effective force. Pet Symmetry is a tight band that deserves your attention. “Vision” is a commanding, sharp dose of intelligent indie-rock.

Focus Tracks:

“Mostly Water” With the refrain of “this is the me I’ve missed,” this really digs deeply. It is interesting that one of the album’s gentler moments stands out the most, but it makes the most of the quiet atmosphere.

“Stare Collection” This is a hard-hitting rock track with a pop core. It is loudly confident and has a level of brashness that is refreshing, balancing sweetness and instrumental brutality.

“50%” “I’m calling a truce between me and you.” These words begin this track. If most mainstream radio didn’t systematically ignore new rock, this would have some serious crossover potential.

Next Week: New music from Alt-J, Bleachers and more.

Missed last week’s? Get the latest from Snoop Dogg, the “Singles” soundtrack, Linkin Park and Magic Giant.

1 June 2017 | 11:29 am

Source : ABC News

>>>Click Here To View Original Press Release>>>

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