#Perhaps when I'm back home in september I can continue working on it...?

[yasmeensh]

Scrapped Zelda 2 comic notes and pages

A Throwback to the Zelda 2 comic I abandoned. Some of you might remember it from earlier in the year. I penciled everything, I just need to ink. And I got lazy. Maybe I should redo it and ditch the inking... Thought I'd share some of my rough pages that get the gist of the story through:

The plot of the mini comic is the question of HOW Link found out that his blood is even needed to revive Ganon? A seer informing Link might be it, but I had a version with action in mind. This is it.

You visit spectacle rock again in Zelda2, so it's an opportunity to tell the story from there! What would Link be feeling about going back to the place he killed Ganon? You find the magic hammer and a potion in the game, I wanted to make it more goal oriented and had a magician send him on a quest to retrieve an item, like all the wise old men do in zelda games lol.

It's during his trip there that he encounters Ganon's body, gets into a fight with monsters, & discovers why the monsters were after him after a certain accident. Idk if it's worth making a comic for but I HAVE A STORY! MAYBE WORTH TELLING. Idk why I decided to ink. Should've done it sketchy style like always. *(Reads from right to left)

[auroralwriting]

spencer smut perhaps? he's all shy but the second your lips touch his he snaps?

guilty as sin

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (18+)

you think spencer's too shy to do anything, until he gets a taste of you

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut, dirty talk, p-in-v, wrap it before you tap it, sort of dom!spencer, multiple orgasms, spencer is whipped, season seven spencer is implied, soft and fluffy but also a smidgen kinky, spencer’s a gentleman, he’s still a nerd, begging, orgasm denial, he’s also a tease, light praise, it’s smut you get the gist

"Oh, come on? You're seriously going to sit there and tell me nothing happened with Lila Archer?" Emily laughed as she sipped on her beer.

It was a chilly autumn night. Your team had just returned home from a case a few hours prior. You were still dressed in your work clothes, like the rest of our colleagues. Somehow, you were convinced to go to the bar before it got too late into the evening. A sort of celebration that you all had caught the killer so quick with only two casualties. That was rare. Emily had even convinced Hotch to join you all. Since meeting Beth, he'd began to grow out of his shell. It was nice to see him happy again.

The liquor in all of your systems was enough to allow the silly conversations to flow with ease. Seeing as Emily and you had not been on the team when the Lila Archer stalking case was worked on, you had a fair amount of questions.

"You were with Lila Archer, alone, for hours on end," Emily took a sip of her drink as she continued her mini-rant. "and you didn't bang her?"

Derek emitted a slight chuckle, "Well, she did make out with him in the pool."

"The pool? Spence, you dog!" You gasped, quickly following it up with a laugh.

Deep down, this conversation bothered you. Maybe it was due to the fact that you had the biggest crush on Spencer. Or it could have been the way JJ was staring at you, no doubt profiling you. She was the only one who knew of your feelings for the genius. Of course, she was nothing but comforting and supportive. JJ was trying to catch a read on if she should end this conversation before it really got to you.

"I- She initiated it," Spencer weakly defended. "I just, well, kissed her back." The whole table erupted in oohs and laughs.

You kept your longings locked from the man. Kept in faded color, lowercase, locked away inside some secret vault you kept in your heart. It was better this way.

"You don't have it in you to do anything more, my man." Derek slapped Spencer's back. His words, meant to be supportive, just plain were not. "A man of honor, truth, justice, pat-"

"All right, I think we've all had enough to drink tonight." Hotch cut off Derek's drunken ramble. "Let's all make sure to call cabs home."

You grabbed your belongings, just a jacket, purse, and scarf, and stood up along with the rest of your friends. Everyone bid each other goodnight, small hugs passed along. Reaching in your purse, you went to grab the twenty you'd left, just in case. Your purse, however, was seemingly empty, besides a lipstick and your wallet. "Oh, shit." You muttered, having no way to pay for a ride home.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Spencer asked, hearing your call of distress.

Shaking your head, you pursed your lips. "I don't have any cash to get home."

Spencer was quick to reply, "Oh, well why don't you just ride with me? Riding with another person is thirty to fifty percent more safe than being alone, especially while intoxicated. Uh, you can just spend the night, I know you live further away and I'm sure you're tired."

"Thanks, Spence. I'll pay you back," You offered as the two of you walked outside. You felt a chill run up your spine due to the cold, September air.

"It's no problem." Spencer nodded, reaching over to slightly tighten your scarf. The touch of his fingertips on your neck was enough to warm you up completely.

Penelope gave you one last squeeze as you hopped inside the cab with Spencer. The ride would only be fifteen minutes away from his apartment, which wasn't bad.

You stared out the window, watching as it fogged. You dragged your finger over the condensation, drawing yourself a little picture to keep occupied. Your eyes cast up on their own, deciding to focus on the reflection in the window. You were sure glad they did. Spencer was staring at you, unaware that you could see him. His stare sent another round of shivers down your spine.

Always the gentleman, Spencer helped you out of the car once you'd arrived to his apartment. It hit you that you'd actually never been to Spencer's apartment before. You wondered if it looked anything like you'd imagined.

And it was. Exactly as you'd imagined, actually. Dim, warm lights that gave a cozy feeling. He had a brown, leather couch with a green blanket over the top. Books were scattered all over the apartment, but it was done neatly. They were probably organized in a way that would only make sense to Spencer.

"Sorry it's such a mess," Spencer apologized, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not at all," You replied. "I guess you've never seen my place."

Spencer hummed, "I haven't."

Being a good host, Spencer offered to make you some tea. You sat at his island while he poured some water in a kettle to heat up.

"So, you know you can be honest with me, right?" You decided to awkwardly start a conversation. The silence was just not doing it for you.

"Of course I know that," Spencer nodded. His back was turned to you as he prepped your mugs.

You shook off your nerves, "Did you actually not sleep with Lila Archer?"

Spencer turned around at your words. "I didn't sleep with Lila Archer." He confirmed. "If I did, you know Morgan wouldn't stop talking about it for the rest of our lives."

A small chuckle came from you. "He really wouldn't." You mused.

"Plus, she's, uh, not my type." Spencer boldly continued after a pause of silence.

"What is your type?" You asked curiously, heart increasing, a deep hope he said you were his type.

"I don't know." Spencer mumbled.

The kettle began to whistle, you could see Spencer's body physically relax at this. A distraction. He passed you the tea which you graciously thanked him for. The two of you sat in a comforting silence as you drank.

Spencer looked so gorgeous in this way. His hair was a bit disheveled, untamed from the long flight. His eyes held no signs of tiredness. Your case was in California. You'd left this morning. He must've also slept the whole way home. His brown locks mesmerized you. Oh, how you wanted to curl your fingers in them. Not to mention the ghost of stubble on his face. You imagined tracing your fingers over it softly, wishing to feel him shiver under your touch.

Maybe it was the remaining alcohol still in your system, or maybe pining after him wasn't doing it anymore. You don't know what came over you when you leaned forward, your nose nearly touching his.

Spencer didn't move, you didn't move. It was an odd standoff. "Spence," You softly mumbled his name. You could see his eyes staring down- oh. At your lips. Somehow, you knew he wouldn't do it You watched the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed a gulp of nerves.

It was like he couldn't speak. But you knew it the moment you locked eyes again. You'd know that look anywhere; desperation. It was probably gleaming in your eyes, too. You could definitely feel it.

A sudden wave of confidence crashed over you and you felt yourself pushing your lips against Spencer’s. It took him maybe a full second to process what was happening. His large hands came to grab your face, pressing you closer to him. The kiss felt like nothing you’d expected of Spencer. He took control over the situation quickly. He pushed against you hard, slipping his tongue between your slightly parted lips. It was messy, rough, yet filled with such genuine passion it was dizzying.

“Spence,” You pulled back breathlessly. His eyes were filled with something new, something more lustful.

He softly shushed you, hands still on your face, pulling you back in. It was slightly teeth-clashing, hot. “I’ve been waiting for this,” Spencer muttered between kisses, his voice a near whine. “Just couldn’t make the first move.”

Spencer pulled back, rushing around the counter to where you sat. He pushed apart your legs to stand in between them. His fingers grabbed your chin, thumb on it and his first finger under your chin. He gently forced your head to look up to him. His cheeks were flushed, and you assumed yours were a near identical reflection.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer whispered. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you anything, everything.”

“You, I just want you.”

That’s all it took for Spencer to kiss you again. your hands went around his neck to pull off his tie, your hands then moving to unbutton his dress shirt. His worked just as quickly to undo yours.

“Not here,” Spencer muttered, eyes falling to your half-bare chest. “My room’s down the hall.”

With Spencer’s hand in your own, you quickly ran to his bedroom, a soft giggle escaping your lips and how cliché this all felt. Spencer couldn’t help but smile at your amusement. You leapt onto his bed, landing on your knees as you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the hair that ended on the back of his head.

“Hi, boy genius.” You smiled, voice soft and warm. It reminded Spencer of a hot vanilla latte, or maybe something like a cinnamon roll. Sweet, warm, delicious.

“Hi, pretty girl.” Spencer replied, thumb rubbing sweetly over your cheek.

You both stared into each others eyes for a moment, taking in the delicacy of the intimate moment. Spencer slowly pushed his lips onto yours. It was the most gentle kiss of the evening, and it reminded you that Spencer wasn’t doing this because he felt like it. No, you were his type. Not Lila, you.

Spencer and you slowly discarded the rest of your clothing, allowing Spencer to slowly drag his fingers over your bare skin, admiring your beauty. “You’re almost as beautiful as Aphrodite,” he muttered. “I would say prettier, but the ancient Greek believed it would curse whomever was called more beautiful because Aphrodite wanted to remain the most beautiful.”

Even during moments like this, you loved Spencer’s rambles. Slowly, Spencer began to kiss all around your jaw, moving down your neck and to your chest. Your hands found his hair as you arched into him. He spent some time licking and sucking on your chest, loving the way you sounded for him, the way you pulled on his hair. He loved the smell of your skin, how soft it felt beneath his lips and tongue.

“Spencer,” you whined, pulling harder on his hair.

The man looked up to you, eyes gleaming as his mouth popped off you with a small pop. “Yeah, baby?”

“I need more,” you replied.

“Like what?” Spencer teased, slowly dragging his finger down your stomach. “Need more here?” He asked, playfully biting at your chest. “Or… here?” Spencer’s fingers trailed over your thigh, slowly moving from the inside to the out.

You groaned, “Oh, there! Please, there!”

Spencer also groaned in reply, “Didn’t take you as a begger,” he muttered. “but I love it.”

Slowly, Spencer moved his finger to your aching core. It slowly ran through your folds, causing you to moan loudly. “Spence,”

“Is this all for me?” Spencer cockily asked, referring to your wetness. You nodded quickly, pulling him down to kiss you once more. As he kissed you, he slid a finger inside, just to the first knuckle to gather some of your slick. He brought it back out and slowly began to circle your clit with it. Pulling back from the kiss, you became a mess of moans, whines, and breathy sounds. Spencer slowly kissed up and down your neck as he played with your sensitive bundle of nerves. “This enough for you, baby?”

“Inside,” you stumble out. “Please, inside me.”

Spencer couldn’t help but give you exactly what you wanted. How could he when you begged so nicely for him? He brought that same finger back inside, plunging it until it reached his final knuckle. Slowly, he began to pump it in and out of you, allowing you grace to adjust to the new object inside you.

“How’s that?” Spencer asked.

“Good, so good,” You babbled.

His finger multiplied and became two. They pumped in and out, adding slight curls to his fingers every now and again. His thumb went back to your clit, slowly rubbing it for added pleasure. “This what you wanted, sweet girl? This what you’ve imagined me doing to you?”

“Yes, yes!” You moaned.

Spencer smiled, “I’m not going to lie, I’ve imagined this moment for the last year.” In any other occasion, you would’ve became bashful at the declaration, but you were already too far gone with the alcohol and pleasure in your system.

It was then Spencer’s fingers hit your soft spot, causing your back to arch. “Oh, baby!” You cried out, grabbing onto the man above you and wrapping your legs around his waist to feel him deeper.

“There?” He asked.

“Oh, yes! There!” You answered quickly.

Spencer worked his magic, adding another finger as you stretched for him. It didn’t take long for your first orgasm to hit you like a sea of stars. Spencer softly shushed you, helping you relax.

“You okay?” Spencer smoothed your hair as he looked at you carefully.

You nodded, “Please, Spence. I want you.”

Spencer wasted no time lining himself up with you, allowing some of your slick to gather on his hard-on. He pushed in, causing you both to groan in unison.

“Oh my god,” he breathlessly said. “You’re so tight, oh my god. Baby, you feel so good.” His voice raised, slightly higher than normal as he resisted the urge to move until you said so.

“Move, move, please,” You told him. He wasted no time pushing his hips forward and backward, pulling your legs up around his hips once more.

He fit you so good, so right. Everything in that moment felt perfect, like he was made for you. You were made for him. It took Spencer less than a minute to be snapping his hips in record time. You felt like your eyes were going to roll back at the pleasure.

Spencer grabbed your chin the way he did earlier, “Look at me, baby. Wanna see your pretty eyes.”

Still reeling from your last orgasm, it took you no time to feel your climax approaching once more. “Spence, I need to come,”

“Not yet,” He groaned. “‘M almost there, baby. Hold on,” You felt a loud whine emit from your throat. The sound of it made Spencer’s dick throb, and you felt it. “Doing so good for me, honey. Oh, god, I’m almost there. So good.”

You were on the brink of orgasm. You weren’t sure if you could hold it any longer. “Spencer!”

“Where?” He asked.

“In, oh my god,” You practically were yelling at this point.

“Let go, baby,” Spencer’s words were all you needed to finally reach that sweet, sweet release again. You felt him spill inside you, the warmth making your orgasm feel even better. Spencer’s arms slowly gave out above you, and he slowly fell onto your chest. He pressed his lips to your hair, a sweet gesture.

The two of you laid there, catching your breath. You played with Spencer’s curls as he gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I kind of have a crush on you,” You admitted jokingly, knowing he knew.

“Yeah?” He chuckled. “I do too.” He sat up, pulling out of you. You wished he didn’t; it felt so empty. “You gotta go pee, right?”

“Yeah,” You groaned lazily, slowly sitting up. “Hey, you’re gonna take me on a date after this, right?”

Spencer nodded with a smile, “I already have it planned. Now, go use the bathroom so we can fall asleep together.”

You mock saluted at him, “Yes, sir. I’ll be right back.”

Who knew your night out would lead to the best night of your life?

[studentbyday]

a september packed with purpose 🏵️ (goals for the 2024-2025 academic year)

an attempt to live a meaningful life even if it's really busy.

🎓 academic goals:

stay on top of my schoolwork. not feeling like i'm running after deadlines but staying organized, calm, and methodical, even if there's a lot.

change up my study strats! turn text into diagrams! shorter focus periods followed by an active break to ease myself into the semester!

study 8h per day or less if at all possible (for official schoolwork)

👩🏻‍🔬 career goals:

finish databases courses to increase my career capital (i sped read so good they can't ignore you this summer and it was both inspiring and practical - grateful for the feeling of having a roadmap...even if it's vague.)

do everything to become so good the lab i'm interested in joining can't ignore me (i have pretty much no current affiliation with them or their university so this is gonna be an uphill climb unless maybe i seem like a perfect fit...)

🌳 lifestyle and adulting goals:

develop a can-do attitude and work on my growth mindset

continue to practice driving at least 3x per week before it snows

become a 6AM girlie (or an 8PM girlie, if you're looking at the sleeping time lol) so i have a few hours of calm, focused silence in the morning which will minimize the amount of time i need to spend studying after dinner (planning to take advantage of the jet lag and the fact that the sun sets earlier in winter, making me sleepy sooner 😠)

re-gain some level of fitness to counter my couch potato summer habits and all the sitting i'll be doing this semester

🤸🏻‍♀️ more fun goals:

apply to volunteer with my local horticultural society and hopefully start volunteering soon (hoping to work on their newsletter as that's something i miss from my high school days! something familiar will also be good for easing into my "reintegration into society" era as a previously "studying hermit". perhaps once i get so comfortable i feel like i'm plateauing, i can branch into being a volunteer gardener! i have absolutely zero successful experience with plants, so it would be really nice to have some guidance from people who've made and maintained such pretty gardens in my community 💗)

make time for piano (ideally at least 1h 3-4 days of the week, but i will be happy if i even get to touch the keys for less than 1h of practice 3-4 days a week. if i can do this, then i can more reasonably justify getting a real acoustic piano at home and maybe even take lessons again when things get less busy...and i don't have to fear not making progress or even getting worse on the digital in the meantime because my fingers and brain get re-accustomed to the acoustic feel and sound options surprisingly, happily quickly even if i only get to play on one for a few days of a year, which is already quite a privilege 🥺🙏🏻 in the meantime, i need to maintain/improve my dexterity, sight-reading skills, and theory knowledge. i don't plan to read the theory book front to back anymore, i'll just read the bits i'm most interested in and maybe eventually that will mean covering the whole book but i won't start with that intention in mind 🤷🏻‍♀️)

sOmEhOw have the energy to comprehend even 1 duolingo lesson in japanese ~daily if only to one day get to a level where i can read more japanese books (and maybe even watch some animé without subs? no pressure tho since i'm very picky about animé 😂)

💭 nice to have but not pressing:

make it a habit to read a nerdy book or academic article that isn't directly for schoolwork to help me find my research interests, learn more about labs in my physical area, and/or re-ignite my passion for/sense of wonder with STEM and STEM-related issues 🔥

each week read something from suggested/recommended course reading lists if there are any

each month read a book completely unrelated to academics, something that distracts me or that feeds my soul or both (or if i can't do that, then just 1 such book each semester, i'm just after something rather than nothing)

🐝 productivity advice from one of my role models that i want to follow religiously this semester:

prioritize rest in order to think and act fast (10 hours of sleep! downtime! meditating! gentle exercise!)

schedule down to the minute but understand that as long as you're doing what you planned to do within the hour you planned to do it, you're good (that is assuming life doesn't happen and derail the entire day's plans but most days thankfully are not like that). give yourself lots of buffer (bigger, not smaller blocks of time in the calendar!).

understand that prioritizing means that you may fall behind in the unprioritized areas from time to time and have to catch up and that's completely expected and completely fine.

be selective about what you're "perfectionistic" with (it's not really about applying perfectionism, more like being picky about where you apply extreme conscientiousness). that is also part of prioritizing.

✏️ post schedule: 1-3x a week depending on time, energy, and what that means for my mental state 😅

[sonic-gallery]

Another World Ogiri September 2023 [What are Rouge and Omega doing...? ]

★Example

I was told that my apology was 30% insufficient.

Two characters appear every month in surprising outfits and situations! Let's enjoy Ogiri together with illustrations that will make your imagination run wild!

This time, Rouge, who is working on ikebana in a dignified kimono, and Omega, who is wearing a hakama, are appearing, looking on with awe! What is Rouge's purpose in arranging steel flowers beautifully?

What kind of lines or narration would you use?

You can style it based on the atmosphere and world view of the two of you in the game, or you can create a bold arrangement! In the example, I'm having a hard time figuring out how to express the very unique instructions...but it's OK to use such free-spirited jokes!

Please enjoy it and tweet with the tag "#Isekai Ogiri" on Twitter (X) ♪

We will introduce the good ones in a reply from Sonic's official Twitter (X) account.

We are looking forward to your fun Ogiri posts!

Act9: “Just like me”

...Once upon a time in the Warring States era.

An evil light emitted by a sinister iron ark that flew from the sky. What bursts forth from the red-purple light is the ``Karakurihana'', an iron ayakashi.

The sharp leaves cut through armor, and the buds of fiery flowers sprinkle hellfire... The folk grasses of the world are terrified by the raging Karakuri flowers.

The only person who can control the turmoil of Karakurihana is the most honorable and powerful warrior...his name is Omega.

The founder, Omega, found ``beauty'' in the life of a flower that single-mindedly seeks a deadly fight, and gave it life as a mechanical samurai.The founder, Omega, named it ``Senka.''

This is the beginning of the ``Omega style of Senkado'', where Senka compete against each other and the winner is considered to be the true beauty.

And the time is modern...

Omega-style Senka Arrangement boasts a history of hundreds of years.

Due to the severity of the training, not a single disciple has yet appeared... Among the many disciples is an up-and-coming bat beauty, Rouge the Bat. ....?

＜＜Dogagagaga! >>

"That's it! It's a violation to have three layers of heavy weapons!"

``Senkado begins with every human being, and there is no violation or foul play on the battlefield.''

Rouge's Senka can do nothing against the rain of bullets fired from Omega's Senka.

Omega's Senka is overwhelming as it continues its onslaught with an abundance of firearm-type contraption flowers. With a final blow of the sharp leaf, Rouge's Senka is cut in two. The winner was decided easily.

Rouge's Senkado begins and ends with beauty.

Dressed in a gorgeous kimono herself, she gives instructions to Senka one after another and fights brilliantly as one human flower, so that her clothes don't wear out in the slightest after the match. That's her style.

Now, among the Omega-style disciples, there was no one who could compete with Rouge, but all they could do was scatter their flowers and leaves in front of Omega... Today's practice match also had a disastrous result.

Perhaps unable to see Rouge depressed, Omega pulls out a pair of scissors that emit a strong glow from his pocket.

"Disclose mission rewards"

"that's......!"

It is the ``Vajra Stone Flower Scissors'' that are awarded only to those who have passed on.

Rouge's real goal is to obtain these scissors. This was the driving force behind all her efforts.

The sparkle of the large diamond on the handle...how beautiful. I can't help but sigh.

"Be even more diligent!"

Rouge regained her energy for a moment when she saw the rare treasure, but Omega's words brought her back to reality and her shoulders slumped again.

......A trudging walk home in the twilight.

Every day of training, I have put in an unprecedented amount of effort for the sake of scissors... Even though I keep running, the goal is still getting farther and farther away. Rouge let out a huge sigh of despair, but suddenly stopped as she felt something strange.

Yes, right now, I'm very unconventional. What are you so serious about?

She stared up at the moon for a few seconds or minutes... Rouge let out a short sigh and smiled mischievously.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have it in a beautiful way, just like me?”

A few moments later. On a different note, there is Kougyokuen, a fabric made of mechanical flowers that was once built by sealing off the place where the ark from heaven crashed.

There, Omega was seen firing heavy weapons and cutting down the flowers, and Rouge was supporting him.

＜＜Zugagagagaga...! >>

Kougyokuen is not just a ``karakuri flower production area''. It is also an isolation facility that confines the ferocious Karakurihana, and requires periodic ``thinning.''

In exchange for her help, Rouge was allowed to see the scissors kept in the back again. The purpose is nothing more than a preview of storage security.

"Incineration! Cutting down! Karakuri flowers are eliminated!"

As Omega knocks down the attacking Karakurihana one after another, Rouge can't help but smile when she sees his Senkadou.

And we arrived at the innermost part of Kogyokuen...

There, the coveted pair of scissors was enshrined in a covered but wind-swept gazebo, shining brightly.

An overwhelming presence that does not fade even in the dark. The blade, which is transparent like ice, diffuses the slightest light and shines in rainbow colors. When Rouge instinctively reaches for the scissors that are left unprotected...

Hidden Senka placed on both sides of the scissors are activated! In an instant, the ivy grew and covered the scissors.

"Protected by strict security"

“Hmm.”

Rouge looked impressed, but from her point of view, this kind of security was playing tricks on children. It seemed like it would be easy to break through. Even on her way home after leaving Omega, Rouge continues to walk with her, grinning. Enough security checks already. At that moment when I thought, "She's already going to sneak in tonight..."

This time, the hardships I had gone through and the frustration of losing to Omega were now welling up in my heart.

"...Hmph"

It's not my style to keep losing and get upset.

I want scissors and I want to win against Omega. As a greedy person, I can't give up on either!

What should I do...

Rouge suddenly looked up at the sky and noticed that the Karakuri flowers that Omega had decimated by gunfire were dancing lightly in the sky. Karakurihana is a flying type that is considered unsuitable for Senka, who fights directly across from her...

At that moment, Rouge murmurs, ``It's surprisingly easy to fly,'' and has a great inspiration.

"...This is it!"

Rouge grabbed one and headed home excitedly.

On the day of the Kaiden exam. In the center of Kogyokuen, the innermost part of the dojo at the foot of the ancient "Ark" ruins...

In a magnificent hall with 12 tatami mats and 300 tatami mats, Rouge and Omega were solemnly and fiercely living out their Senka. and......

＜＜Boooo~! >>

The sound of a conch shell signals the start of the match.

＜＜Bushuuuuu! >>

At the very beginning of the opening, Rouge's Senka releases smokescreen seeds and obstructs visibility! At the same time, take a defensive stance and prepare for Omega's onslaught.

"Smoke screen jamming detected. No problems."

Omega's Senka pays no heed to this and rains down suppression fire from the sky.

＜＜Dogadogadoga! >>

Rouge's Senka endures through the smoke screen, but is definitely exhausted. But...the moment the smoke cleared, Omega was shocked by the sight before her eyes.

There were two Senka of Rouge...one of them was holding the "Vajra Stone Flower Scissors" high in the sky.

“Soreha!?”

"Security at Kougyokuen is for personal use only... You read that right! The treasure is Itadaki♪"

At the very beginning of the episode, Rouge separated Senka under the cover of that smoke screen, and instructed her clones using flying Karakurihana to steal the scissors.

"Rekai, fun...!"

Omega blinks at the unexpected event. An instant love was born there.

＜＜Gakkiin! >>

Rouge's Senka's powerful blow pierces Omega's Senka's vital point, inflicting a fatal wound.

"Unacceptable! Violation of match regulations! Foul!"

"Oh? Once the match started, there were no violations or fouls, right?"

Immediately after that, her two Senka flew with leaves and merged in the air. If you hold the scissors in the upper position, you will be able to capture Omega's Senka within range.

"Do whatever you want and get everything you want...! That's my Omega style!"

The next thing Omega saw was Rouge's dignified straight sitting position staring at the battlefield with an undisturbed demeanor... Rouge's Senka with her back cutting Omega's Senka in two with a single blow of her scissors. It was a brave figure.

＜＜---Kin! >>

"...Stunning."

A quiet dojo. ...A new kind of "beauty" was born here.

"Rouge, license pass and pass."

"I did it! I have to come! I like Iemoto who understand what I'm talking about♪"

Rouge plays like a little girl with scissors and a license letter in hand. The scissors had been stolen during a match, but now they were purely hers.

However, after achieving her dream, Rouge also realized that there was no longer any reason for her to stay here.

"Well, I don't care about titles or anything like that...If I get what I'm getting, I'll be too happy to go to such a seedy dojo."

Rouge muttered that and started walking away, but as if reading her thoughts, Omega took something out of her pocket.

"Second mission reward. Red stone flower scissors..."

The fiery shine of the ruby ​​captivated Rouge's heart... She quickly turned around and instantly approached Omega, saying:

"...Tell me the details."

The "Legendary Seven Scissors" passed down in the Omega style.

Rouge, the new master teacher, took on the responsibility of sealing Kougyokuen, and while she and Omega sometimes struggled, they continued to improve each other's beauty until they had all the scissors in their hands... ..

This is the beginning of the golden age of Omega-style Senkado.

"Following the red ball..."

"The Senka battle was fun, Tails! Rouge and Omega were so cool! They have to be like that!"

Sonic was in a good mood as he watched the unexpected match from behind the bushes in Kogyokuen. Tails, who loves mecha, will also follow.

"That's right, Sonic! By the way, 'Karakurihana' seems to be a strange version of Eggman's mecha, but how does it understand its creator's orders? ...And more importantly... ...!”

Realizing an important fact, Tails returns to his serious expression and shows Sonic the readings on the energy detector in his hand.

"Look! This energy reaction. This energy wavelength...is the aftermath of the Phantom Ruby's energy!"

...``Phantom Ruby''.

It is a mysterious stone that has the power to influence the brains of living things, implant a powerful virtual reality, and twist the world. It was lost after the previous battle with Eggman's army and was supposed to have disappeared from this world...

"Energy is being emitted from this botanical garden in all directions. I'm sure there will be such a huge reaction in the aftermath all over the world...I mean..."

Sonic jumped up and landed on the Ark in the center of Kogyokuen, then grinned and continued:

"This ark is the epicenter of the incident...is that so?"

An ominous wind blows through, rustling the leaves of the contraption flower beneath their feet, and Tails, who was already investigating inside the ark, continues.

"Yeah! This ark was also a strange transformation of Eggman's battleship! I found a part that looked like a capacitor, but it had a powerful energy reaction left behind. I'm sure it was activated during the previous battle. I think the Phantom Ruby's energy was still being charged...I 'm sure Eggman made the most of it in some way!

Tails excitedly raises his head all at once. But, but..., I thought, my shoulders slumped again.

“However, this situation that is currently occurring in the world is a little different from virtual reality, and there is no way such a disparate situation could occur with a single activation... There are still so many things I don't understand.Hmm, sorry. ......”

Tails crouched down with his head in his hands.

Sonic couldn't help but feel tired, thinking that he had gotten used to sitting down so his skirt wouldn't get dirty, but when he jumped down from the top of the ark and sat next to Tails, he patted him on the shoulder and cheered him up with a smile. Masu.

"What are you talking about, Tails? It's like you know everything now!"

"...!?"

"The fact that this is ground zero means that the opposite side of the planet from here is the least affected by the energy, right? If Eggman isn't here, then shouldn't he be on that side?"

"......a!"

"If you don't understand anything else, just ask Eggman himself!"

"Oh, that's right...! I'm sorry, I'm alone and depressed again..."

"No problem, Tails! I wouldn't know anything without you. I'm counting on you!"

With that said, Sonic quickly stood up and clicked his heels, and Tails also hurriedly got ready. Why is it that I always feel happy when I'm with Sonic?

I'm sure this incident will be resolved successfully...

Confidence that rises up even though there is no solid basis for it. Tails' expression was no longer gloomy as he enthusiastically started running after Sonic.

"Now wait, Eggman! No matter where you're hiding, I won't let you escape!"

[battle-of-alberta]

Got a question for Drum to round out my camping trip themed asks! While dinosaurs aren't exactly paranormal, the current town of Drumheller does contain the hamlet and ghost town of Wayne. Have you ever brought Paula and Vulcan with you to check it out? For that matter, what's it like living by a ghost town? And what (if anything) does that do to the municipality representative that lived there?

to be continued...?

(wahoo answered in less than a year hooray!)

We did pass by Wayne on our way into Drumheller but didn't stop, by that time we were so tired and ready to go home hahaha. As usual, Drumheller belongs to @zomsaurus (and who has dibs on designing Wayne too hahaha) (let us know when you go on your research trip :) )

Some more notes...

Meta Stuff

this is kind of my feeling on what makes a personification exist. I think if a town's population was relocated or only exists in memory, their connection to our world starts to fade

(This is also why non-municipal personifications like nations would probably be a bit tougher and more resilient, to a point.)

(and I'm still concerned about something like Fort Walsh that was rebuilt as an educational tool as kind of a reanimated corpse? lol)

Wayne technically exists as part of Drumheller, like a microcosm of how Strathcona exists as part of Edmonton, so I think amalgamation is one way to cheat death also.

In Hetalia canon there has been one case where a micronation "gave up" and "went back to being a human", though I'm not sure that interpretation works with the way I do things. Interesting to think about, anyway!

A bit more on the Hetalia approach: Prussia is "retired" and it's suggested in this linked scan that he's slowly becoming increasingly mortal. Ancients like Rome will still appear in the dreams of their descendants as well.

the votes are in and the chat thinks Wayne should be half ghost like Danny Phantom

Some fun facts about Wayne

Last I heard, Wayne's population was 28 whole people! At its peak, it had about 2,500.

I think the Rosedeer Hotel / Last Chance Saloon is under new management now, but it's one of the big attractions. If you don't mind the shared washroom down the hall, perhaps the honeymoon suite is for you!

The saloon also has real bullet holes in the walls (framed), though they're from an incident in the 1970s rather than the 1910s

How is Wayne related to Red? Kid sibling? haha. Coal town origins, as is true of many ghost towns...

Waynestock is a big music festival/camping event in early September. It lasts 3 days and features about a hundred artists!

You might recognize Wayne in the movies. Shanghai Noon was partially filmed there!

Other notes...

I keep writing Drum as the "normie" or straight man of the gang even though next to anyone else he isn't normal at all, haha. He just is devoted to the scientific method, that's all! and also jesus

finally my knowledge of star trek comes through for me again on this blog B) remember, you can survive a shoot out at the OK Corral so long as you believe in yourself (though a mind meld doesn't hurt) :)

[jamvvvs]

31AUG2024

writing has been so hard this last month, despite the incredible downloads and shifts occurring. Perhaps its too soon– though my mouth itches to share. My body aches in poetry. I want to write. When I get this call, I often get a vision of a snowy creek. I am standing on the bank, looking out at the rushing water. There is an urgency. The urgency says to do the hard thing, though in this specific circumstance I'm not sure what the hard thing is. Cross the bank despite the biting cold? Kill the bear that is lurking? No, it feels like I must leave something behind. To leave the bank behind, in its own sublime. The bank isn't my home. It is a wondrous, mysterious, destination that marks I am closer than I was before, but I must kept going. It is tinged with a melancholia that I will never know the extent of that place, in all of its beauty, that I may never encounter it again.

I don't know why this vision appears. I develop a tightness in my body when it does. It's not exactly clear and it doesn't last long. I feel like I can only cure it by writing, when the writing finally comes.

*

I am happy August is over, though towards the end it became a peaceful intermediary between Summer Proper and the gust of wind that is September. In these last weeks, something shifted in me and I developed an acute attention to my body, not like I ever had before. My Body as an organism. As a landscape of its own, but also as one of the trillion moving parts of that make up the universe. I am made up of cells just as I am one singular cell in the Body of this planet.

My extreme sensitivity is not new, however from a very early age I learned how to ignore it. Only now, after over a decade of experimenting with tons of different body/energy work modalities, routines, substances, I only starting to learn how to recover it, and more importantly, how to listen to it's messages.

So far I've learned I hold so much tension in my stomach. I'm learning how to continually release tension throughout the day-- this is something I'm learning from trees. I'm learning how to massage myself. I'm learning how to walk as I'm floating, to move with the ease and beauty in which I often attribute to the pure concept of the human existence. I'm learning how to extend my aura. I'm learning how to give my body up when I want to listen, and how to hold my own when I want to refrain.

Much of the tension I hold is from years of residually holding back because I never trusted there was a place for myself to completely take up space, though I'm meant to.

*

There is another vision I get, also in a forest, but this one is different. It is lush and green and has a home feeling. Eternal spring, Eden. There is a beautiful river with rocks that get good sun. There is every color, crystalline and sparkling to the point where it can't be real. It feels like drinking water for the first time. I go here when I am breathing deep. Many times while I practice yoga, or while I'm deep in mediation.

[georgiainportugal]

Well another week has come and gone. I can’t believe it is September and I have almost been here for 2 months. Well this week I have actually received some compliments that my Portuguese is getting better and people are starting to understand what I’m saying at times. Maybe they’re being nice or they want me to buy them a beer? Or perhaps it’s actually true!

I still make the same mistake of saying ‘tu fala ingles’ which means ‘you speak English’ instead of ‘eu falo ingles’ which means ‘I speak English’. But I think people know what I mean. I use this if people start saying something that I don’t understand or, if a random person tries to sell me something and I want to pretend that I don’t understand.

Sometimes it’s obvious that I don't understand though because apparently I pull a strange face of shock/panic, according to a nice lady in the shop. I went to buy a dress during the week and she asked nicely ‘can I help you?’, in Portuguese, but then started speaking in English to translate about 2 seconds after. I laughed and asked how she could tell I spoke English and she replied, “because you pulled the biggest face of panic!”

So, I clearly need to work on my facial expressions because I would hate for a charming Portuguese man to come and speak to me, and then for me to pull a face like I've just sucked an extremely sour lemon. I don’t think they would want to continue the conversation if that happened, in fact, I think they would be extremely concerned and may even call an ambulance.

Saying that, I think my Portuguese is slowly getting better because I led a game of bingo on Friday with some children in the youth centre and managed to read out the numbers in Portuguese, with some help with pronunciation.

I have 2 Portuguese lessons per week and this week, we didn’t go on too many tangents as per usual. We usually start talking about one thing and end up going completely off topic. For example, we were talking about kings and queens one time and then had a 30 minute conversation about roman numerals instead of learning Portuguese. That’s why I really like my Portuguese teacher. She is from Mozambique and always teaches me something new about history or politics each week. I only recently found out that Portuguese is commonly spoken in parts of Africa. It is another reason why I want to continue learning because it would be amazing to travel and speak with people around the world.

One thing which has been helping me to learn Portuguese is by listening to Portuguese music. Some of the songs are proper good tunes which I bop to, as I’m walking alone with my headphones in. Anyone walking past must think I'm quite crazy as I sing to myself and walk looking like my legs are twitching strangely. Oh well, it makes the walk to Lidl easier, especially when you’re carrying bottles of diet coke or Superbock beer home. Jesus, they can be heavy! Or perhaps I'm just not very strong… I'm choosing the first reason.

I love running along a beautiful river nearby and listening to any upbeat Portuguese song makes it much easier to continue, despite a waterfall of sweat flowing down my back. The only problem with listening to music while running is that you lose track of sounds and people behind you. The other day, I went to turn down a path to the right of me without realising there was a bike overtaking me. I knocked into an old man in his 60s, thank goodness he didn’t fall off! However, he didn’t look particularly impressed. It was lucky that I was running, and I subtly smiled apologetically and sped up my running to get away as soon as possible.

Why do I always have to do something embarrassing? I guess it will make these blog posts a little more interesting perhaps… if anyone is actually reading.

Well congratulations, you got to the end of my first blog post. See you next time :)

[lavenderlyncis]

My year in fic!

I saw @euphorial-docx do this and I wanted to try as well!

For this, you just post the fic and one line from it

May

the bridges we burned (and the home we built)

James spoke up in a soft voice, confirming his presence. "And what emotion does it provoke?"

"Extreme loneliness, sadness. Look at the dead-end path, the hopelessness of the threatening sky, the crows, the contrasting colours. All of it foreshadows the end of a life. An inner conflict that has been apparent in all of his works draws its conclusion. In many ways, this is the climax. The tempestuous peak of mental anguish and suffering."

Regulus took a deep breath and continued. "But it's not just depressing. There is a clear message of healing, of returning to nature. He makes it seem like there is peace to be found at the end of the road."

June

The Highest Form of Betrayal

He took a deep breath and spoke, barely audible through the wood, "I'm not going to forgive you and I'm not going to date you again."

"I understand," James said weakly.

Regulus, with every piece of courage and goodwill he had, added, "But we can peacefully co-exist." Every single interaction with James had been leading up to this. The moment of a grace Regulus could only seldom muster. "Don't get me wrong, I probably won't ever be able to open up to you again, but we can talk to each other." He closed his eyes and choked out the last words. "I miss you."

Starcrossed

Their lives had been branded by misfortune for as long as she could remember. When she was younger, she thought that the stars themselves had cursed them, damned them to misery by forcing them to be born in the wrong body.

But now, far away from their families, from their past, from their old names, Pandora knew that nothing could reach them.

Perhaps, the stars hadn't cursed them at all.

They had only given them a companion to guide them on their path.

August

Can't trust his kind

James took a second to breathe, searching his opponent's features for any explanation for why he was the target of such a careful assassination attempt. From up close, James realised that the scar on Leon's cheek was longer than he originally thought. Much longer. It extended all the way down to his neck.

He knew that scar. 

He had made that scar.

"Regulus Arcturus Black," he whispered in shock.

"The one and only."

September

Midnights

Even in here, the house that was home to most of Regulus' happy memories, he couldn't help but feel the pressing weight of years and years of inner turmoil. It was something he was no stranger to, not even in the time when his room was clean and the house filled with familiar faces.

Perhaps remembering would do him well. It was so easy to forget the past, to move forward without daring to take a look back, afraid of what one might find in the jumble of time.

Regulus leaned over his nightstand and blew out the candle, sinking back into the pillows, he let the shadows wash over him. 

Looking into the dark, his mind wandered to brighter days.

November

Only The Good Die Young

Mornings were spent in the halls of the Academy, sitting by a window with a cup of black tea and overlooking Danzig, watching the townsfolk go to work. Morning after morning, the same. Each day shorter than the last, until the pages of the calendar flew swiftly in succession, one after the other - Regulus could barely keep up.

Time went so fast that it stood still. Decades bled into each other, their passing meaningless.

Bruises faded into thin scars as memories blurred together and soon Regulus wondered if any of it had ever happened at all. Perhaps his mind had played tricks on him, it would explain the reason why he could hardly recall the details. There were days when he even forgot Sybill's name. He wrote it down, then, not willing to forget someone who impacted him in incomprehensible ways.

[natromanxoff]

Queen live at Wembley Arena in London, UK - September 5, 1984 (Part-1)

(x)

Tonight is Freddie Mercury's 38th birthday, and it presents a very warm atmosphere in the arena throughout. Before Staying Power the audience sing Happy Birthday to him, but it wouldn't be the first reference to the occasion.

In Staying Power, Freddie skips the "I wonder when we're gonna make it; I wonder when we're gonna shake it" lines, perhaps because they're difficult to sing and he wants to save his voice that has weakened considerably since the start of the tour.

After the Dragon Attack guitar solo, there is a breathtaking duel between Brian and Freddie: very high guitar notes versus very high and powerful operatic falsetto vocal. This improvised section of the song would be different on every night of the tour.

The audience sing Happy Birthday again before Love Of My Life, but Freddie is off the stage for a moment, as Brian quietly says, "It's not my birthday." He adds, "I'm sorry, he's gone home. It's his birthday." He diddles on his 12-string for a second, and continues, mentioning "Our mine of useless information tonight." He says this because he already told the story about his new electric classical guitar before the last song. "We just heard tonight that The Works went to five hundred thousand in Britain. Thank you for buying it!"

Brian then begins Love Of My Life with the audience, and Freddie comes back on stage to sing the second verse. Before he can begin, someone hands him a birthday gift, to which he asks, "What is it, a jock strap?" He and Brian then perform the second verse, after which the song is interrupted again as someone else has a birthday card for Freddie. He says, "Someone sent me a card. I gotta open it, so hang on a minute." Stopping a concert to open a gift is something few performers could get away with! He reads it to himself, and says, laughing, "I can't read this. It's even too filthy for me!" They resume the song, and in the bridge, after "When I grow older," Freddie quickly adds "Thirty-eight", and continues along.

After the song, the audience sing Happy Birthday once again, and Freddie briefly replies this time. "Thank you, thank you. Let's get on with it."

Brian's solo has some very unique and melodic elements tonight.

Freddie dedicates Another One Bites The Dust to "anybody that's black and anybody that's called Aretha," and introduces Hammer To Fall as "one of those heavy headbanger things." Dust and Hammer To Fall have swapped in the setlist, and it would remain that way through 1985.

Before Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Freddie says how he initially knew three chords and that he now still only knows three! He always exaggerated this in good fun, as he certainly was a very functional guitar player, having written Ogre Battle on the guitar back in 1973.

A fan recalls: "I remember a large cake being wheeled on and Freddie spraying the front of the crowd with champagne as it was his birthday."

(x)

Part-2

[vavuska]

FRESH OFF THE BOAT, POSTERS AND ART

Season 1, 2 and 3 are HERE:

Season 4, 2017

In 2017, the cast of Fresh Off The Boat re-created the painting "Whistler's Mother" (1871) by James McNeill Whistler for a poster to promote the forth season of the show. Constance Wu posed as Whistler's mother, Anna McNeill Whistler.

Arrangement in Grey and Black No.1, best known under its colloquial name Whistler's Mother, is a painting in oils on canvas created by the American-born painter James McNeill Whistler in 1871. The subject of the painting is Whistler's mother, Anna McNeill Whistler. The painting is 56.81 by 63.94 inches (1,443 mm × 1,624 mm), displayed in a frame of Whistler's own design. It is held by the Musée d'Orsay in Paris, having been bought by the French state in 1891. It is one of the most famous works by an American artist outside the United States. It has been variously described as an American icon and a Victorian Mona Lisa.

Anna McNeill Whistler posed for the painting while living in London with her son at Cheyne Walk, Chelsea.

Several unverifiable stories relate to the painting of the work; one is that Anna Whistler acted as a replacement for another model who could not make the appointment. It is also said that Whistler originally envisioned painting the model standing up, but that his mother was too uncomfortable to pose standing for an extended period.

The image has been used since the Victorian era as an icon for motherhood, affection for parents, and "family values" in general, especially in the United States.

For example, the painting was used in "Fight for Her", a World War I recruitment poster from Canada, urging men to enlist with the Irish Canadian Rangers and to fight for the women in their lives. It appeals to notions of motherhood and family values that were popular at the time, and often attributed to this painting.

The painting become the subject of a 1934 three cent U. S. postage stamp "in memory and in honor of the mothers of America".

In 1938 the painting was used as model for Mothers' Memorial, a statue in Ashland, Pennsylvania. The Ashland Boys’ Association (A.B.A.), an organization of men and boys born in Ashland, raised the funds for the fabrication and erection of this monument.

The A.B.A. was formed in the early 20th century in response to the widespread job loss and dispersion of coal miners as mines began to fail. It was a homecoming organization that welcomed former Ashland residents back to their hometown. Men from all parts of Pennsylvania, as well as several other states, participated in these annual celebrations. The A.B.A. was the archetype of a poignant Pennsylvania story: how successive waves of industrialization and economic development create then destroy industries and communities, leaving large groups of people longing for the associations and comforts of family, friends and home. The Mother’s Memorial stands as a symbol of this sentiment.

The seven foot high three-dimensional sculpture was designed by Emil Siebern and sculpted by Julius Loester. Both artists were sculptors from New York who specialized in public art – funerary decoration, memorials, park statuary, etc. At the base of the statue you can read the words "a mother is the holiest thing alive".

Season 5, 2018

In 2018, the cast of Fresh Off The Boat posed for a Pop-Art poster, that recall the most famous of Andy Warhol seriography.

Andy Warhol was a neurotic and fragile child. Growing up in Depression-era Pittsburgh, he developed Sydenham chorea, a neurological disorder that left him confined to the house for months at a time. During his convalescence, he stoked an obsession with movie stars: he pored over fan magazines and even convinced his older brother, Paul, to write fan letters to the celebrities on his behalf. In exchange, the studios sent him dozens of headshots—autographed glossies of stars like Veronica Lake, Mae West, Marjorie Reynolds and, his all-time favourite, Shirley Temple, who misspelled his name in her personalized message. He painstakingly pasted each one into a cardboard scrapbook, arranging them in orderly grids.

That scuffed album is the key to understanding Andy Warhol: a whimsical career devoted to the reverence and ridicule of celebrity commodification. (Even his fluffy platinum-blond wig looked like a distorted tribute to Hollywood glamour.)

Born to a poor but close-knit Byzantine Catholic family, young Andy Warhol absorbed images of both the saintly icons on the altar of his local church and the glamorous stars he saw in the movies at his neighborhood cinema. Both would influence his life and art.

Warhol was an obsessive collection continued also in adult age: in the 1970s, when Hollywood studios were emptying their vaults, Warhol attended auctions to find photographic treasures. He purchased many photographs depicting celebrities past and present from the great collector John Kobal, and received others as gifts or discovered them at antique stores and flea markets.

After graduating, Andy Warhol moved to New York to become a commercial illustrator.

He was good at it too, creating magazine ads with a particular inky style that was very popular for a time.

Getting his art into the galleries, however, wasn’t so easy. Back then there was a clear line between fine art and commercial art, and Warhol had become a well-known commercial illustrator.

But Andy Warhol decided to use that to his advantage. He began to experiment with the stuff of commercialism itself—logos, trademarks, icons—things that had no fine art qualities at all.

Calling his studio "a factory", Warhol was interested in mass production, in commerce, and in the business of making money. Using repetition of similar or identical ready-made objects as a formal structure, he referred to himself as "a machine".

The use of repetition in the work of Andy Warhol is perhaps the most interesting and challenging components of his Pop Art.

In his works Warhol simultaneously celebrated and criticized consumption choices and mass (re)production, effectively turning his work into a repetitive whirlwind and establishing the grounds for the most successful Post–World War II art movement.

In the obsessive repetitions of Warhol, repetition produces a harmony which frees the shape from the contents.

Warhol's pop art can be seen as a relation to Minimal art in the sense that it attempts to portray objects in their most simple, immediately recognizable form.

On the occasion of Marilyn Monroe’s suicide in August 1962, Warhol used this image for his screenprinting. It was a publicity shot by Gene Korman for the film Niagara, made in 1953.

"In August 62 I started doing silkscreens. I wanted something stronger that gave more of an assembly line effect. With silkscreening you pick a photograph, blow it up, transfer it in glue onto silk, and then roll ink across it so the ink goes through the silk but not through the glue. That way you get the same image, slightly different each time. It was all so simple quick and chancy. I was thrilled with it. When Marilyn Monroe happened to die that month, I got the idea to make screens of her beautiful face – the first Marilyns."

Each print is vibrantly colored to reflect her vivacious personality. In many of the prints, her iconic lips are boldly colored a deep red. Many of the prints also emphasize her platinum blonde hair by adding variants of yellow. The colors ultimately bring to life Marilyn Monroe’s iconic status and celebrity glamour. By creating repetitive imagery, Warhol evokes her ubiquitous celebrity status.

Marylin Monroe is not a person anymore, she is become a commodity good, endlessly consumed by her public. (About how Marilyn Monroe become a sex symbol: LINK)

Season 6, 2019

In 2019, the cast of Fresh Off The Boat re-created the photo "Lunch atop a Skyscraper" (1932) by Charles C. Ebbets for a poster to promote the last season of the show.

The photo appeared the first in the Sunday photo supplement of the New York Herald Tribune on October 2, 1932.

The photograph was taken on September 20, 1932, on the 69th floor of the RCA Building during the last months of construction. According to archivists, the photograph was in fact prearranged. Although the photograph shows real ironworkers, it is believed that the moment was staged by Rockefeller Center to promote its new skyscraper.

Formerly attributed to "unknown", and often misattributed to Lewis Hine, it was credited to Charles C. Ebbets in 2003. Evidence confirming his authorship held in the Ebbets' Estate archives include original work orders showing invoices to Rockefeller Center for the time period surrounding the photo, letters of recommendation from his work at Rockefeller Center when the photo was taken, a copy of the original article from the NY Herald Tribune when the photo first appeared in 1932 in his own scrapbook of his work, photos from his office in NY taken in 1932 showing the image on a bulletin board display of his work, and a negative of him at work on the site that day.

The movie Men at Lunch traces some of the men to possible Irish origin, and the director reported in 2013 that he planned to follow up other claims from Swedish relatives. The film confirms the identities of two men: Joseph Eckner, third from the left, and Joe Curtis, third from the right, by cross referencing with other pictures taken the same day, on which they were named at the time. The first man from the right has been identified as Slovak worker Gustáv (Gusti) Popovič from the village of Vyšný Slavkov in the Levoča District. Popovič was originally a lumberjack and carpenter. In 1932 he sent his wife Mária (Mariška) a postcard with this photograph on which he wrote, "Don´t you worry, my dear Mariška, as you can see I'm still with bottle. Your Gusti."

Gustáv and Mária's joint grave in the Vyšný Slavkov cemetery is decorated with the picture.

[doof-doofblog]

"I'm Asking You To Think About It!"

Thursday 24th September 2020

Hi there folks! I'll be posting two posts today, I want to make sure that I'm caught up just as much as you guys are. So the first post, I will be focusing on Thursday's episode and then Friday's episode will follow! Thank you for being patient with me and I hope you're all enjoying my posts!

What a brilliant start to the episode on Thursday, Phil is seen in the Minute Mart debating whether to buy a face mask, I mean - I agree £8 for a face mask is a ridiculous price, especially when I know places that charge less. But of course, this is a soap. Also can I just say how lovely it is to see Honey! We've not seen her for such a long time, I think the last time we saw her, properly - didn't she leave to get help or get control of her eating disorder? If anyone can remember otherwise, please feel free to message me and inform me?! Phil and Honey are marking small talk regarding the masks as Isaac walks in, he also picks up a mask and makes the joke of it being used in a bank robbery. Of course, Phil stares at him - AS IF he's just used those words to describe a face mask!! Of all bloody things! I mean, obviously Isaac is has no idea about Phil's past so he clearly think he's made a harmless joke, if only he'd knew! As Isaac leaves, Jack then appears, on the phone to clearly someone who works with the police, Jack just happens to mention the Mitchell name to the person on the phone and Phil's ears are burning as he listens in on Jack's conversation. Does Jack also know why Ben has been released? Does he know that the police are going to be after Phil?!

In the laundrette, Sharon is once again leaning on Linda's shoulder. She informs her that Linda's advice backfired and Ian actually called her bluff. Linda is shocked but also feels for her friend as she reveals that she doesn't know what to do. She states that if she stays in the Vic, things will only get worse, and yet if she leaves, she has no where else to go. Sharon is really stuck at the minute, will Linda be able to find a way to help her friend in need? Will she possibly suggest Sharon moving in with her and Mick, just until she can find somewhere of her own? Who knows?

At the school, Isaac is doing his job as a teacher and observing the children, Amy waves goodbye to her brother as he rushes in, then saying "Good Morning" to Isaac. She asks him politely to look after her younger brother, as she walks away, Denise approaches him and checks with him once again to keep his distance from Amy, just in case her crush on him seems to escalate. Isaac really seems unfazed by Amy's crush, but I think Denise is right to warn him. He informs her that he's going to take a step back from tutoring her but that'll be the start, if anything else happens I'm sure he'll act fast.

Meanwhile, at the Mitchell household - Ben, Callum and Phil are all sat around together in the living room. Ben is feeling happy and ready to celebrate his being released. Although, Phil cannot seem to keep himself together, he can't understand why Ben is wanting to celebrate. Phil knows something isn't right, and he can't sit and do nothing while the police could possibly be watching his every move. He starts taking the blame out on Ben, for grassing up Danny in the first place - potentially if he hadn't of done that in the first place, Phil wouldn't be worrying for his life right now. Phil mentions how long it's taken for them to build up the Mitchell name, he worries now that word will get out about Ben being a grass, and their name will taking a falling dip. Ben then confronts his Dad, telling him how many times they've had to rebuild their reputation after every time Phil has made a mistake. Callum suddenly comes in between the argument, telling Phil that he's wrong! Both Phil and Ben want to know what Callum means by that, what does he know? He tells them that Danny wanted to drop the case and the police weren't willing to him go for the sake of Ben. He informs Phil that Danny is a bigger catch, he is the one the police want, he suggests to him that they lay low for a while, because if they can't get their hands on Danny, then they will come looking for Phil.

After their encounter earlier in the week, Mitch and Kheerat have met up once again. Kheerat informs Mitch that he doted on Chantelle, he had fallen for her and he thought the world of her. Mitch is silent as Kheerat tells him everything, he explains how close they had gotten over lockdown. He suggests it's such a coincidence that she suddenly passes away the night she's planning on running away with Kheerat. He knows something isn't right, he knows that somehow, someway, Gray is involved in her death. He brings up the possibility - what if Gray found out about them running away together? They possibly had a row and things went badly wrong? Mitch looks as if he can't take in what Kheerat is saying. But he also states that why also would he have her memory box? If Gray hadn't have done anything, perhaps he would've had the box, perhaps he wouldn't be chatting with Mitch and perhaps Chantelle wouldn't be dead. He explains that Chantelle cancelled their plans at the last minute, why would she do that?! She was ready to go and she sounded happy when she told him she wanted to be with him, why would she then change her mind? Also the voice message she left him, she sounded different - like something wasn't right. He tells Mitch that if there isn't any doubt in his mind that something isn't right, then he will drop the suspicion and leave it alone, for Chantelle's sake. But you can see Mitch's brain working, I think he completely agrees with Kheerat, something isn't adding up!

Meanwhile, in the Square, Callum is meeting with DI Thompson again. He is visibly guilt-stricken after giving up Phil to the police. His boss tries his best to persuade him that he's done the right thing. So why does he feel so bad about it all? His boss tells them that they're the good guys and they have won! But Callum makes the valid point that in this current situation, there are no winners! No one is going to be happy about the outcome. Callum has betrayed his boyfriend and he is going to have to suffer the consequences of his actions. While Callum is having this conversation with his boss, Phil has once again gotten his advice from is lawyer, Ritchie. She informs him that just by Callum's role in the police, there is no way he could've got hold of the information he gave Phil, she reveals that he's been lied to, and it's plain to see that he already knows.

In the bar, Max and Linda have decided to go for a drink, after Max's encounter with Ian, it looks like he could do with a stiff one! Max is still waiting for Ian to give him his money back, Ian is just making excuse after excuse and Max is slowly losing his patience. Linda is making small talk before she asks him if the restaurant is doing okay, she puts two and two together and explains to Max that Ian has been making Sharon doing all sorts of crazy jobs in the Vic so she can push for cash. She asks whether Ian isn't in any trouble. It's then that Max reveals to her that he ended up selling his half of the restaurant over to Ian, just so Rainie couldn't get hold of his money from the outcome of their divorce. Linda has clicked - did Ian pay for the Vic with Max's share of the restaurant money? She knows! She's figured it out! Ooooo I hope she'll have some plan up her sleeve, I do hope she'll confide in Max and inform him of what she's thinking.

In another family home we've not seen for a while, the Branning household, Jack is trying to persuade Isaac to carry on tutoring his daughter. He claims she has really progressed since he's been helping her. (Of course us viewers know why!) ... Amy is listening to the conversation, Isaac apologises for not being able to teach her anymore. When he reveals his excuse for no longer being able to tutor her is because he's seeing someone, you can see Amy look deeply hurt, she's sat at the table looking very miserable. Jack tells her not to worry but she doesn't respond and continues to look upset.

At the Vic, Stacey is still trying make amends to her Mum. She is begging for forgiveness, asking whether she can buy her Mum a drink. Jean declines her offer and says she'll get her own. Stacey really doesn't know what else to do, she's convinced her Mum hates her and is never going to forgive her. Kat then informs Stacey that while she's been absent - Jean has lost so much! She's had to battle cancer on her own, she's had to burry Daniel, the man she ended up falling in love with, and now also Kat has also given Cherry back to Hayley. Jean must've felt so alone this year, I think it's then that Stacey realises how much her Mum must have needed her while she was away. How is she going to be able to make it up to her? Suddenly Suki walks in, acknowledging Jean, she rolls her eyes and looks away. Stacey hasn't met the Panesar family yet, so she turns to Kat and asks what that eye roll was all about. Kat also explains that that is something else she's missed. Is Kat going to reveal everything?

Back at the Mitchell's, Callum comes in to find Phil sat in the living room, waiting for him. Callum asks where Ben is but Phil isn't wanting any chit-chat. He instantly tells Callum to tell him the truth, he knows something isn't right. He gives him one last chance to tell him the truth and not to blow it. Callum is backed into a corner, does he tell him the truth .... No! He makes up ANOTHER lie, he tells Phil instead that he caught his boss dipping into cash nearly every time they did a job, and Callum wasn't going to let it go. He fibs and says that he would grass his boss up on every single thing that he's done unless he'd get rid of the CCTV of Ben and let him go. Phil is listening to this story, taking everything in. I'm unsure whether he's convinced Callum is telling the truth, or whether he thinks he is still lying to him. Suddenly Ben walks in, none the wiser, happy to see his Dad and boyfriend together. Callum leaves the room, leaving Phil with his thoughts. Callum looks devastated as he's had to lie for a second time to his boyfriend's Dad. I think he's digging himself a deeper and deeper hole that's going to be hard for him to get out of.

Back at the Vic, Kat fills in all the details of Suki lying about having cancer to Stacey. Jean is sat across the Vic, staring at Suki. Stacey is ready to stand up for her Mum and put Suki in her place. Suki makes a snide comment, insulting both Jean and Stacey. Stacey laughs in her face and threatens her, if she ever bothers her Mum again, she will come for her. Jean sees the commotion and begs Stacey to leave things alone, Stacey snatches Suki's drink out of hand, ready to lash it over her, but Jean stops her in the path, she begs Stacey to stop and says in a soft voice "You're too late to fight my battles for me, Stace!" I think Stacey realises it takes more than just fighting the bad guys to help make amends to her Mum. Upstairs in the Vic, Sharon is seen on the phone, has Linda informed her of Ian's involvement with Max?! Ian can be seen playing on his laptop, as Sharon enters the room he stills speaks to her like a piece of dirt on his shoe. She informs him that she is staying, she tells him that he had better start trying her with the respect she deservers, otherwise she'll tell Max about the money he owes him, and then Max will deal with him. Ian's face is in pure shock! Finally he is the one who is backed into a corner, he now has no choice but to give Max his money back, whether he finds it or not!

At the Taylor household, Mitch is looking through Chantelle's memory box, from what looks like, also downing a bottle of vodka. Karen walks in and realises what he's looking at. Mitch reveals to her what Kheerat had told him, Karen can believe a word that is coming out of his mouth. For a moment, you feel like Mitch has got it, and he's right! Understandably, they're both grieving and coming to terms with her death, but Karen refuses to hear a bad word said about Gray. She claims that Chantelle loved him, she turns the whole thing round to a different scenario, what if Kheerat couldn't accept that Chantelle didn't love him back? What if he killed her?! Mitch's eyes grow big! Is THAT why he had her memory box?! Is Mitch now going to confront Kheerat and blame him for Chantelle's death?! Is Gray going to end up getting away with murder?! As Mitch leaves the room, Karen is left sobbing.

The final scene of this episode, Callum once again walks in on Phil in the kitchen, back at Mitchell's. This scene really left me feeling "Wow!" - Phil more or less opens up to Callum, admitting that he was wrong about him. He describes the fact that they appear to be working on the same side of the fence. Phil makes Callum a proposition, if he'll give him information about the police, so that they'll be one step ahead, maybe they'll be able to find a way of stopping Ben from getting into trouble. I think this is a huge step for Callum, after what he's just done - dobbing Phil into the police, this could be a chance to make things right. Phil could perhaps escape arrest and Ben wouldn't have to lose his Dad or his boyfriend? Surely this could be a win-win situation?! I hope, for Ben's sake, Callum agrees and begins to work with Phil! He even called him "Family!" That is MASSIVE compliment coming from Phil! Callum surely can't say "No"? I hope he'll do the right thing!

Hope you enjoyed this blog post everyone! I'll be back very shortly with Friday's episode! Love you all xXx

[laytonsartblog]

How To Solve Everything

Little Spaces - Ch.2

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3

Warning: This story contains violence, gun related violence, gang related violence, starvation, hypothermia, dysfunctional family themes, dysfunctional domestic themes, poverty, and homophobia/transphobia. Read with caution and at a good time for you. Take care of yourself.

--

Logan has a schedule he dedicates his life to.

First, to wake up at five am.

Next, is to get in the shower without a bucket. Why without a bucket? Because he's damn rich.

Y'see, when you're one of the most successful people in the country of Loríses, running a multi-billion dollar corporation on affordable apartment living and clean energy resources and steady bank loan agreements, well... you can afford some time.

That, and clean water.

Once that's all done and good, Logan likes to relax and have a nice breakfast in his humble top-apartment as he watches the news from the table.

The time didn't really matter when he woke up or finished eating because he never booked (or more accurately put, was forced to book) a meeting or council accommodation or ribbon cutting or something before eleven am.

Breakfast was his only sanctity; he made sure to have plenty of it.

With the news and breakfast over, Logan would head out to work with his classic polo and tie with a briefcase in hand, then spend about eight hours basically running around heading between business meetings and stock readings and introductory openings and apartment gatherings and- well, you get the picture.

Without a hitch, Logan'd get home at around seven-thirty pm, have some sort of dinner out with colleagues he really didn't care for, and get home to either sleep or do his favorite kind of work; charity work.

In the charity work's case?; he wouldn't get a wink of rest.

Today, Logan woke up like he would any other day, perhaps a little later than he thought he would, but that was due to his one am adoption centre charity bidding auction last night.

When he went to check his phone for any messages from his secretary for the day, he found only two from the uptight woman:

You have the day off, Mr.Corbett.

Have a nice day.

Logan looked on in confusion.

I have the day off? Why? he texted back.

His secretary immediately responded with a simple,You haven't used your vacation days at all for the past year, Mr.Corbett. If you don't use them by the end of September, you lose them. I took liberty of letting you off for the next week.

Logan was about to fight back and tell her he's coming into work anyway, but he found she's a bit faster with her hands.

You need it, Logan.

Go visit that old lady down the street, in the bookshop. Her name is Mrs.Tamry. She's my mother's sister and owns the place. She could use some company today.

Logan groaned. He wasn't moving the stubborn woman and that meant he actually had to take care of himself. Woe is he.

Logan grumpily put the phone to his bedside table before face-planting onto his bed. He groaned some more, kicking his feet and punching his hands into the pillows. Perhaps childish, yes, but Logan was never really raised to do much else than work. He didn't know what else to do.

Logan remembered the Mrs.Tamry from his secretary's messages a few minutes after his tantrum and sighed as he flipped over on the bed, rolling out of it.

After a shower he went over to his closet and picked out something a little more casual- a flannel and finer jeans -before stuffing down some toast to head to this bookowner.

Logan would admit that the bookstore part of the old woman was interesting; he's loved being read to and reading stories ever since he could recount the ABC's. It was one of the few pastimes he could be shown doing in public: his public advisor had once told him it made him look both gentle and intelligent, and the ladies would love it. Logan had just told him that he didn't care about the ladies and continued on his way to his office.

Logan finally made his way to the shop. He rolled his eyes at the name: "Book-Ends and Seller's Beggining." It was charming, if not a little corny, and Logan wasn't sure if this was really worth his time, but then he saw the little old lady through the glass sitting by her lonesome and let out a breath of air.

Dammit. Why do I have to feel so guilty?

Logan pushed his way through the tall glass doors and looked his way around, noticing the high bookshelves and neat working stations. It seemed grandma kept up with the times as Logan noticed a small table with a few charging stations attached to it, and a couple of teens doing their homework while plugging their phones in nearby. A stack of laps for rent stood on a shelf near the station.

Logan heard the old woman laugh hoarsely behind him.

"Well, now I wasn't expecting such a dashing young man in my shop so early in the morning!" Mrs.Tamry teased, still laughing. She got up from her weaved rocking chair and instead shuffled her way over to a flustered Logan. "Got some good bone structure- although the hair could use some work. A working man, hmm?"

Logan stammered at the guiding, touching hands and expert eye. "Yes ma'am, I- I am a businessman," he squeaked out.

Logan was used to just saying nothing while out in public, or worse, hosting everything and never getting a break. Having this conversation, if not an awkward one, made him sweat bullets. It was unknown territory.

"A businessman, huh?" Mrs.Tamry sang. She looked him over a few more times, noting the sweaty palms and pale face, before hollaring over to the kids in the corner, "Does this man look familiar?"

The three in the corner; a smaller, but colorful child, a tall but scraggly young fellow, and a boy with a star for his shirt all turned their heads.

The colorful kid snickered. "Nah, he looks too nervous to be any big shot I've heard of," they chided.

"Yeah, and what would he be doing here of all places if he was?" the scraggly lad questioned.

"Hey, knock it off!" the boy in the star shirt huffed. "The guy's probably super sweet and here to pick something up for his wife where they'll read fairytales to their kids and it'll be really damn cute!"

The colorful child started laughing hard; so hard, in fact, that they started tearing up. The scraggly kid did the same. The star boy just crossed his arms, looking to Logan with a much more innocent view.

Logan was sweating so profusely he was afraid he was going to faint. Mrs.Tamry just watched with a crooked smile at their imaginations.

"I am right, huh? You're just a nice guy!" the star boy asked, leaning in. The other two troublemakers got themselves together enough to lean in too, giggling.

"Yeah, tell us! Who are you?"

Logan couldn't stop himself before he even knew what his brain and mouth were going to say.

"I-I'm gay."

Well that was certainly new.

Logan realized what he said and covered his mouth with his hand, shock covering his entire face. Oh now you've done it, he roared at himself, you've told three kids and an old lady you're a disgusting pansy!

But the yelling and the chastising and the kicking-him-out-of-the-store never came. The other children looked to him in absolute glee, and the old woman just snickered.

"So what, dude? I'm like... mega gay too," the boy in the star shirt joked. He easily smiled at Logan.

Logan couldn't tell if he was being encouraged, or if he was doing the encouraging to the boy.

The other two children looked between eachother before looking to Logan. "We're non-binary. We use they/them pronouns. Could you please use them?"

Logan just barely managed a nod, his nerves in overdrive. He just outed himself and now these brave kids were coming out to him too? It was a hell of a thing to wrap around his brain. "O-Of course I will," he managed through chattering teeth.

Logan turned to the old woman last. He expected her to throw him out at first, but now he realized that she knew all this time. Now he looked to Mrs.Tamry in fear. The fact she could figure something like that out so quick was something Logan wasn't prepared to deal with, shock after shock being ran into him in the past ten minutes.

"Young man, you realize that this establishment has a 'We Accept You' sticker on the front, right?" she giggled, patting his shoulder despite him being a tree and her a stump.

Logan looked back to the glass and saw a mirrored version of that sticker on the door; clear as day.

Logan slumped his shoulders. "Oh."

Mrs.Tamry took his shoulders and guided Logan over to a seat, sitting in the one next to him with a sigh. "Ooh, that feels much better on my back."

Logan just stared at her, sweating and shaking and why had I not fought my secretary on letting me work-

Mrs.Tamry clasped a hand on top of his fussing one and smiled gently. The wild side of her had been turned down, and now something much more sweet laid itself out to the scatterbrained gay.

Logan felt himself calm down just a little.

"Now now, I've been told by my niece that her boss was coming in today to spend his day off. I'm to assume that's you, right?" she gently asked. The hand on Logan's softly rubbed it's thumb against Logan's knuckles.

Logan calmed down just a little more.

His tongue managed to unstick itself from the roof of his mouth enough to let out a small, "yes."

He didn't know why he was so freaked. Usually when he got this nervous he'd just bury it down like he had been for the past thirty something years but in this place, it felt like no matter how hard he tried, he was forced to feel everything he was feeling. Logan did not like it.

Mrs.Tamry sighed and used her other hand to tap a gentle rhythm in Logan's arm, giving him something to hold on to.

"Y'know, I didn't expect such a good man like you to be holding back so much fear. I could feel it as you stepped through that door," Mrs.Tamry commented, trying to make small talk.

Logan avoided her eyes. "Well, I haven't got much of a place to let it out."

Mrs.Tamry kept the rhythm on his arm while she hummed.

"Well that simply isn't good!" she preached. "Tell you what, if you're feeling so scared and trembling like you are now, you can always come to me, y'hear?"

Logan nodded a little. He could feel himself slowly relax, coming down from being so flustered and flabbergasted.

New places, new conversations- in which he made actual conversations instead of one-sided invites -new people, new ideas, new everything! It made his brain go into overdrive and his nerves alight. Usually he was able to handle it, bury it deep for later, but here? It seemed he couldn't stuff the feelings down.

Maybe it was Mrs.Tamry's wild but motherly approach, or the bookstore's inviting nature, or the teens he talked to earlier, but either way, Logan just sighed.

He was okay. He was safe. He was okay.

Mrs.Tamry pulled Logan up and rubbed his back while she headed him in the direction of the laptops.

"Why don't you do yourself a favor and find a game to play or- or a messaging site to talk to someone!" Mrs.Tamry then giggled cheekily. "It seems you don't have many friends, so now's a time to start!"

Logan took a seat next to the three teens with an awkward smile and a wave as he opened up the laptop. It was a little out of style, but it seemed fine enough as Logan booted it up.

"We never got your name, sir," the star boy asked politely while Logan logged in.

"Yeah! Like for example I'm Joan and that's Talyn, and he's Thomas, so now you know us!" the newly named Joan called out, tipping their beanie like a celebrity.

Talyn nodded along, playing with their colorful hair. "Homework is getting boring, we wanna know you!"

Logan turned to the three kids with a reserved smile as he signed up for a messenger site called GetAlong.

"My name is Logan Corbett."

--

Taglist

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[eversoslinky]

What is Reiki?

Reiki is a Japanese healing practice, in which the universal energy (also known as "qi") is passed through from the hands of the reiki practitioner to the patient. This is also known as "palm healing." I'm very open minded when it comes to all types of healing, however, and I must state this point very clearly. I don't believe that Reiki could ever replace any form of Western medicine, I'm fascinated by the way in which it is performed and it has worked wonders for me however it would be irresponsible of me to tell you to have it done as the results differ from person to person.

I'm going to tell you about my Reiki experience today and also try my best to describe how I felt during and after the treatment. (Although for once I think my words won't do this experience justice.) My experience began with me greeting my practitioner and filling out a questionnaire based on my health conditions before we even began. I've had Reiki before when I was going through my breakup with my last partner, I was looking for an alternative answer and something from beyond my own limited thinking pattern. Today I'm looking at my healing through brand new eyes, I'm on a spiritual journey through life right now and I need to feel refreshed and new again.

The treatment takes place in a beautifully converted attic space above a holistic shop, I'm instructed to lay down on a massage chair, face up. I remove no clothing except my shoes and coat and the practitioner makes sure I'm comfortable adding pillows underneath my knees and covering me from the shoulders down in a giant fleece blanket. I'm given a small bag of large stones to rest on my stomach during the treatment. I wonder if these stones are used as a way of "centering" the treatment as I mentioned I suffer with severe pains in my hips, pelvic area and lower back. Who knows?

The treatment starts with my practitioner playing the harp, it's so soothing and moving I feel almost moved to tears. Feeling incredibly strong and vulnerable at the same time,my body sinks deep into the bed, and my limbs become heavy and melt away into the frame. I forced myself to silence all the noisey thoughts in my head and focus on the then and now. The practitioner moves her hands firstly over my face then my head, her hands moving like a "box" motion picking an invisible box up from inside my head. After, a few minutes she's moved on to another area and I can still feel the box motion on the temples on my face. That right here is what makes this extraordinary, I can't explain to you how it feels to have your body feel like it's moving when you know you're completely stationary. It's like being on a rollercoaster but perhaps the world's safest rollercoaster, It's that perfect combination between excitement and safety.

I experience twitches in my legs and feet during the treatment. I tell myself that this is something I do I'm a twitchy person and due to the medication I take unfortunately something that is now part of me. I know one of the main purposes of Reiki healing is to remove negative energy, I often wonder how much has collected on my body over the past two years or so since my last treatment? Is Reiki something to upkeep? to do? I see Yoga as part of my spiritual wellbeing and pathway to being happy and healthy again... maybe Reiki should be part of the package too.

When the treatment was over the practitioner gave me some feedback on my session, she said she got visions of peaches during my treatment and said it brought to mind for her that I was going to be harvesting this late summer fruit as I was starting a new educational journey in September/ October time, she said that someone had their arms around me too for the duration of the treatment. Everyone wants a hug and a bit of TLC so maybe she was just saying this cause it's what I wanted to hear. After the treatment had finished I felt drowsy and achy, I guess having your soul cleansed is similar to that of having a good declutter in your home. It would be nice just to feel light on my feet, happy and carefree, it would be even better how that my mind has a good spring clean I can get rid of everything that has been weighing me down and holding me back. I want to organise my thoughts and take control of this little movie, I call my life. I might not get to where I want to be this time tomorrow but I'll continue staying healthy, mind, body and soul... in the meantime, I'll just keep eating peaches and hope for the best. 🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑