#and its all “look this painting on this and that vase” and its basically art history and i hate art history i really dont give a shit

[scentofpines]

in class today i felt so incredibly out of place again, why does it have to be so hard for me? and, i like this girl, but every single time we have class she mentions her "autism" while happily chatting with 3+ ppl at a time, completely effortless, while im sitting there, staring and trying to focus enough to even understand the conversation bc there is so much noise around me that i feel like i'm about to either explode or shut down completely and i feel like an alien trying my best to somehow socialize and understand what is going on and really to just get through this.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Epel Felmier - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning ��� National Museum of Art]

Epel: I'd been hearin' this place was just some fancy museum, 'cept it's way huger 'n I thought.

Epel: We ain't got a museum back home, so… Seein' all these paintin's hangin' 'bout's just crazy!

???: Look at that apple, it's so red and shiny! Totally looks photo-worthy ♪

Epel: Ah, Cater-san! Yeah, it's a really beautiful apple, huh. Although, it's pretty hard to get them this red even with a ton of effort.

Cater: Eh, really? Epel-chan, you sure know your apples ♪

Epel: Ehehe, that's because I'm from a family of apple farmers. I don't think anyone knows more than me when it comes to apples!

Cater: I see～

Cater: Y'know, the queen here looks like she's talking with the crow as she offers it the apple. What do you think she's saying?

Cater: Since even someone well-versed in the world of apples like you thought it's a great looking one, thinking she's saying something like, "Doesn't it look delicious?"

Epel: Nah. I think she's saying, "It's not for you!"

Cater: Eh! So mean!

Epel: Well, yeah!! Like, back home, we'd always have crows trying to nab our apples…

Epel: They'd damage them, poke holes in them, drop them half-eaten on the ground…

Epel: I can't stand them for treating our delicious apples like that!!

Epel: It'd be bad if we couldn't ship out our apples, so the village would band together every year to try to keep them crows out.

Cater: THE WHOLE VILLAGE!? Must be a pretty touch sitch. What kinda stuff do you do to get rid of them?

Epel: We'd put up nets, or make noises that the crows wouldn't like… And a bunch of other stuff.

Epel: But those guys are pretty smart, so we can only get rid of them for a short time… They always come back once they realize they're not in danger.

Epel: That's why whenever them crows came back, I'd jump on my broom and hoot 'n holler while chasing after them!

Cater: You'd hoot and holler while chasing after them!? Based on how petite you look, I couldn't imagine you doing something like that…

Epel: If I don't give them a good scare, they'll just keep coming back.

Epel: A few of the crows were more persistent, so I'd get worried that I'd run out of magic while trying to chase them.

Epel: But, thanks to all that, in the end, whenever I was in the orchard, the crows wouldn't come anywhere near it!

Cater: Pretty amazing of you to scare away all those annoying crows that had the whole village in a bind ♪

Epel: Eheheh, thank you.

Cater: If we're talking about when you were back home, that means this all happened before you came here, right? So basically, would you say you're a pretty good flier, Epel-chan?

Epel: Yep! The guys in the Magical Shift club'll praise me up and down for being able to chase down erratic discs.

Cater: Niiice, all your experiences with those crows are probably coming in handy, then.

Epel: Oh, when you put it that way, I guess so…!

Epel: I thought they were just a pain in my side, but… Those crows were useful in their own way too, I guess?

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Cater: This painting… It's a scene from the tales of the kind-hearted princess. Ahh, a nighttime date on a magical flying carpet is so romantic ♪

Epel: Is that what this is? Oh, the magic carpet is holding something. Is this… a flower?

Epel: It's really drawn so lifelike. It looks like it was just freshly picked…

Cater: Ahaha. So I take it you're more interested in fresh flowers than a romantic date, Epel-chan?

Epel: I-I mean, when weeds are pulled out, they shrivel up pretty fast…

Epel: And even cut flowers need to be put into a vase as soon as possible, or it loses its vibrancy.

Cater: Really? Looks like you're just as in the know about plants as you are with apples.

Epel: Ehehe. I'm studying really hard right now so that I can be more useful to my village whenever I head back home.

Epel: I've been working on potions that'll keep plants from withering, or help them grow…

Epel: Recently, I've been growing my own plants so I can test my potions on them.

Epel: I panicked a bit when one of the pots broke when I was in the middle of testing out a new potion…

Cater: Eh!? You saying that it grew crazy fast, or something!?

Epel: Oh, no, no! I can't make potions that great yet, or with any effect, really…

Epel: Basically, it just fell because one of my roommates bumped their hand into it while they were getting ready for class.

Cater: Did you get hurt at all? It'd be bad if our cute little Epel-chan got injured!

Epel: Cute…!? …Urgh, yes, I was fine.

Epel: I had to clean up the broken pot and scattered dirt, so I was more worried about being late to class.

Epel: I planned on hitting up the school store afterwards to get another pot, since I didn't have any spares…

Epel: But Jack-kun, my classmate, shared one of his spare pots! I was able to move my plant into that one right away.

Cater: Hm? Why did Jack-kun…? Oh, right. He raises cacti, right?

Epel: Yeah! How did you know?

Cater: I remembered him posting a picture of a cactus on Magicam once. There wasn't any description, so I didn't really get what the picture was supposed to be of at first…

Epel: That must have been the cactus that Jack-kun's been growing, yeah.

Epel: He really tries to take good care of it, and had spare pots laying around.

Epel: So, when I said I broke my own plant's pot, he gave one to me, saying it was in return for some apples I gave him once.

Epel: Cater-san, are there are plants that you take care of?

Cater: Hmmm, I mean, there's a ton of plants in my dorm. But I don't think I'd ever really get around to raising some myself.

Epel: Yeah, it really takes time and effort to raise plants.

Epel: That's why it feels double awesome whenever the plant's flowers bloom or fruit grow!

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Epel: Oh hey, it's a painting of the Queen of Hearts! Both she and the animals on her shoulder look pretty proud of themselves.

Cater: It says that this is a painting depicting the scene where the Queen of Hearts had just secured her victory in a croquet match.

Cater: According to legend, the Queen of Hearts was able to hit shots that just curved right into the hoops.

Epel: Shots that curved right into the hoops!? I can't even do that when I aim for them… She's awesome!

Cater: Oh, so you've played croquet before?

Epel: Yes! Last weekend, Ace and Deuce asked me to help them practice.

Epel: Grim-kun and [Yuu]-san also joined us. It was supposed to just be practice, but we kinda ended up playing an actual match…

Epel: Hehe, we really got into it then.

Epel: By the time we finished the game, we were all so hungry. So we all just went to Foothill Town to eat.

Cater: Niiice～ Ah, so young and carefree. And let me guess, you guys went to a hamburger joint?

Epel: Eh, how did you know!?

Cater: When it comes to a joint in town that's affordable even for students, I can't really think of anything much other than that chain restaurant～

Epel: Oh yeah, Ace-kun said something like that too. But it's not like I knew of the restaurant before I came to Sage's Island.

Cater: Are you more the type to avoid fast food hamburger joints?

Epel: I wouldn't say I avoid them… It's a bit of a car ride to get to their closest chain back home, so I haven't had much opportunity to go, is all.

Cater: Oh wow. I totally thought they had a place set up pretty much everywhere, since it's even on this remote island.

Epel: Yeah… When I told Ace-kun and Deuce-kun, they were pretty surprised as well.

Epel: Until those two told me, I didn't even know that they did free refills at this restaurant...

Cater: Hm? I mean, I don't think it's just that one joint that does that, but the whole chain.

Epel: Eh, you mean that's not something only here at Sage's Island!?

Epel: Then that means I could have had free refills in the restaurant I went to back home… I didn't know at all.

Epel: What a waste, I'd only ever get one drink whenever I'd go. I'll have to let my family know next time I head back home.

Cater: Yeah, yeah. Whenever there's free refills, it's so easy to just lounge there forever, too～

Epel: Yeah! And that day, we got really caught up in conversation that it started to get dark… We had to hurry back to campus.

Cater: Oh, I see, I see. Well, thanks for getting along with my little freshie brethren.

Epel: What, you don't need to thank me! I had a ton of fun hanging with them.

Epel: Ah, wait, I'm sorry, I've kept you here a while now!

Cater: Don't worry about it, I was happy to chat with you ♪ I think I'll head off to the museum's café now.

Cater: I heard their menu is themed after the various exhibits here, so. See ya around, Epel-chan.

Epel: Right, see ya. …Well, Vil-san told me to learn a thing or two about beauty while I'm here, so I guess I'll go look around for a painting of the Fairest Queen.

Epel: Oh hey, there's another painting with an apple on it! This one looks really tasty, too.

Epel: Oh yeah, I remember when I was a kid, I heard the story of how the Fairest Queen cast her magic on apples, and would try to pretend to do the same.

Epel: And I'd chant… "Now, turn red. Tempt anyone and everyone to make them hunger for a bite…"

Requested by Anonymous.

[id-element0]

Adele's Ramsay Living for TS3

2 years ago, on a fateful evening, I decided to convert this set to TS3. Although this had already been converted, I had my reasons to do my own conversion. Long story short, there were things that I didn't like and things that I liked.

One thing that I liked in the previous conversion was the effort to make the table tops glass. So I experimented with the Basic Shower which is supposed to have frosted glass. I don't know why EA use horrible textures; when you replace the NormalMap with a proper frosted glass texture it looks amazing.

So, using this knowledge as a base, I worked on the frosted glass table tops and after countless failures, I finally managed to have the effect I wanted. The key is having the right values for UVSelector parameters in the shader.

I also changed the textures for the bottle; tried to recreate it as a multiplier. Then made another version. Bottles are semi-transparent glass and recolourable. Don't ask me how I made them - I don't remember. But I if have to guess, there is this tutorial that I know of. The first part is about recolourable glass.

I wasn't feeling Adele's art for the painting. So, I used the recolours made by @timeparadoxsims. The artist is @len-yan and the art is amazing. If any of them want me to remove the painting from my downloads, I will do so but cry inwardly. 😢

I know people hate reading and just want to download but THIS IS IMPORTANT: Several items share textures. So you need to have the 'masters' in your game for the 'slaves' to work. I will group them and explain further.

The Loveseat is the master for the following objects: Armchair, Sofa, End Table (Solid Top), Coffee Table (Solid Top).

Loveseat, Armchair, Sofa -> 4 Channels - 2 presets with second being Adele's black overlay & metal and wood parts still CAStable.

Loveseat Polycount -> HLOD: 1746 MLOD: 702

Armchair Polycount -> HLOD: 1578 MLOD: 726

Sofa Polycount -> HLOD: 1962 MLOD: 1096

End Table, Coffee Table -> 3 Channels - 1 Preset

End Table Polycount -> HLOD: 710 MLOD: 444

Coffee Table Polycount -> HLOD: 1322 MLOD: 720

The Cushions for Loveseat is the master for following objects: The Cushion for Armchair, The Cushions for Sofa.

All Cushions -> 1 channel, 3 different multipliers - 5 Presets with 2 of them being overlays. You don't need moveobjects on to place them on their appropriate seating. If you use alt to place the seating you need to use alt to place the cushions as well.

Loveseat & Sofa Cushions Polycount -> HLOD: 160 MLOD: 80

Armchair Cushions Polycount -> HLOD: 80 MLOD: 40

The Glass Top End Table is the master for The Glass Top Coffee Table.

Both tables have 1 Channel & 1 Preset. Polys are same as the solid tops.

Decorative Bottles

Both have 1 Channel & 1 Preset.

Polycount -> HLOD: 242 MLOD: 119

Decorative Vase

3 Channels - 2 Presets

Polycount -> HLOD: 446 MLOD: 344

Large Frame Painting

1 Channel - 18 Presets

Polycount -> HLOD: 82 MLOD: 64

I've also included the collection file which comes with its own icon for easy recognition. As always, I might have missed something; if you find anything weird don't hesitate to tell me so I can try and fix it. I hope you'll enjoy this beautiful set by talented Adele. Happy simming.

- Credits -

Adele for the meshes and textures.

@len-yan for the art.

@timeparadoxsims for the ts2 recolours

Google Fonts Montez, Kurale

Made with: SimPE, GIMP, s3oc, s3pe, Blender, Texture Tweaker 3, and TSRW

@pis3update @kpccfinds @xto3conversionsfinds

- DOWNLOAD -

:: MEDIAFIRE | SFS ::

[icarus-suraki]

Please forgive me a moment but oh my gaw... For just $1,600,000 this narco-chic house in beautiful Raleigh, NC, could be yours.

Excuse me while I get my @mcmansionhell on but oh. my gaw. There's a lot of repainting and staging in this one, but they can't hide all the beautiful, beautiful sins in this house. Personally I think the new owner should embrace this house as a lost set from Miami Vice or Scarface. Lean into the pastels, get 1980s furniture, add so many houseplants, and get your "greed is good" on.

tl;dr: this would be a great house to do cocaine in.

Also: mirrored toilet.

Knock knock! Mr. Montana? Are you in?

Built in 1988; 4 beds, 5 baths, 5360 square feet

Of course it has a lawyer foyer--kind of.

It's like a disbarred lawyer foyer. Crooked lawyer foyer.

That chandelier looks like a shower head leaking goo and I hate it.

Now we're getting into it:

The first of many, many mirrors.

The current owners have clearly repainted the whole place in "modern" colors but you can't fool us. We see that carpeted open-riser staircase that's just perfect for Michelle Pfeiffer as Elvira Hancock to saunter down before taking another bump of cocaine.

Oh here we go:

Is that... Is that...

YEAH IT IS, BITCH. THAT'S AN ETCHED MIRROR TWO-STORY FIREPLACE DEPICTING ATHENA SENDING FORTH HER OWL HOLY SHIT. And that's not the end of the mirrors and etchings in here either:

The etched glass. The columns. The weird ceiling.

It's a shame this is the only glimpse we get into the dining room because I fucking love the rando traditional chandelier in there. There are also double doors on the dining room and I believe they're etched too. I can just make out what looks like a peacock on one of them in the last fireplace photo.

Yes, they've done their best to stage this place with (slightly ironic) contemporary furniture, but it's not really proving that this house is anything besides a great place to do cocaine.

AHOY MATEY! Love the giant gold vase + bonus faded an art.

Yes, welcome to my home. Please stand under the tube of slime. (Seriously: paint that thing and make the glass green and it's 100% Nickelodeon.)

Love how the wall of the Disbarred Lawyer Foyer interrupts the weirdly traditional wrought iron bannisters. Seriously, wut?

Bedroom photos:

MORE MIRRORS FUCK YES. Honestly I do love the 1980s-does-art-deco fireplace. I could make it PoMo. Why did they un-80s this place? I weep.

What's that? You want EVEN MORE MIRRORS???

You could snort cocaine off almost ever surface in this house. Also I love the door for your bathroom elf there by the tub. He brings you more toilet paper when you run out.

Blah blah blah, there's also a sauna, don't care. MOVING ON: the mystery of the portholes is solved!

Awww, Tony Montana has a sewing room. He mends his own Hawaiian shirts.

Blah blah blah, STILL MORE MIRRORS in another one of the bedrooms...

I didn't mention the pool, did I? Well, there's a pool:

The back: another view of the pool in its concrete hellscape and the yard where you can keep your pet tiger.

But I've saved the best for last: the downstairs bathroom. Based on the reflection in the mirrors (plural, yes), I think this room is just behind the kitchen/bar, behind the wooden door. It's basically under the portholes.

Are you ready? Are you sure? Get your spoons and your straws ready because...

You can snort cocaine off any surface in this room.

The walls, the ceilings, the countertop, the toilet lid, anywhere. Imagine being drunk as hell and trying to use this bathroom. Imagine tripping balls and trying to use this bathroom.

I am speechless.

So thanks for stopping by on this tour of an Escobar-approved narco chic classic in beautiful Raleigh. Bye!!

[stop-pressing-e]

Home Sweet Haven - Part 1

/Finally decided to post this story I've written nearly a year ago and made edits to update some parts recently. This story will be split into three parts.

Enjoy reading!/

Mentions of: Breaking and entering being the main plot, suggestive aftermath

First week

Dullahan was a woman of many secrets and she doesn’t reveal them so easily to anyone. Not even to the man that was once a thorn on her side to becoming an acquaintance. He would soon be a partner in crime when fate would bring them together for missions into something a bit more when it involved motel rooms and diner dates. Regardless of anyone’s relationship with the hitman, no one knows anything about her, from her hobbies to what her favourite colour is. All they have is her personality they could describe about her and what she is to them. 

However, Jack Krauser knew some things people would love to use against her and especially for the fact that he had seen her face during their interactions in their second year. He was given her actual name since Dullahan can be such a mouthful and he rather uses pet names on her as she does with him using ‘Jackie’. Bit by bit he would learn more information about her with his own investigations until he got what he needed.

Her home address.

From afar in his rental, he watched Dullahan, or better known as Trish Odile, leaving her complex for her civilian job as a waitress at a local restaurant and bar via a motorcycle. A Benelli bike. It was a nice model she had there but it was not for him. He focused on what floor she was on from the glass window displaying the elevator, and how to exactly get upstairs as he soon learnt that she uses a keycard and a passcode to enter the building. The only option was the fire escape located inside the compound. It was an easy jump over the fence and he easily avoided the cameras while he managed to pick the lock of the grilled door to enter inside the fire escape and made his way up the top floor Dullahan is located itself.

The glass door was easily unlocked with his knife wedged between the locks and he was inside. Dullahan’s place was an industrial loft with its high ceiling, the tall glass windows, to the open second floor that is basically the whole bedroom itself led up by a spiral staircase. The kitchen was underneath the bedroom floor and the space was big enough to have the kitchen island across the stoves act as a dining table too, allowing more space for the living room. A large couch faced a large screen television mounted on the wall, a nice small rectangular table decorated with only a potted plant that looked to be orchids, to his best guess, and a red plush wingback chair on the left side of the couch and facing towards the glass doors, probably to enjoy the view of the outside at a distance.

Three bookcases lined against each other by a door that led him to a storage room and upon pressing the second switch thinking it was the lights, the wall at the end pulled away revealing a hidden room behind it. He found her weapons hung on the wall along with her equipment, and the sight of a mannequin wearing the infamous blue jacket, the right arm holding the pants, what was left of the left arm was replaced by the familiar black metallic sheen of her robotic arm, and the head wearing the helmet. A training dummy is located across the storage room and it went through quite a lot from the looks of it and from the amount of stitches she must have sewn to repair it looked to be done by a really sharp knife.

Krauser inspected the rest of the area near the glass door he came from and the kitchen and he saw that it was a little art studio. One easel was tucked away and the other one was standing with a canvas left unfinished of a still life of a vase of slowly dying flowers, a few books stacked on top of each other with the spine facing the person, and a half empty amber glass bottle. Against the wall were drawers and tables containing art supplies of paints of various mediums, colour pencils, palettes, palette knives, brushes, sketchbooks, and more he doesn’t have time to inspect. There were also canvases full of paintings leaning against the wall which were still lifes, landscapes, and some were portraits of people he wasn’t familiar with, possibly strangers she had encountered in her passing.

The lower floor was done and he made his way upstairs to the bedroom area. He was greeted with a king size bed, all for one person yet he found it perfect should he need to rest, a bedside table on the right side of the bed with a table lamp and a book on top of it. Upon closer inspection, he caught sight of a knife holster strapped to the front leg of the table and a gun holster strapped at the back, possibly for an easy grab for her to strike an attack if anyone broke into her home such as what he’s doing currently. He smirked from seeing it. Despite being safe in her own home, she was still well prepared. Smart girl, he thought as he moved away to briefly inspect her wardrobe, her vanity table and the full length mirror right against the wall before he moved on for the bathroom. 

It has both a bathtub and a shower with a glass door large enough for him to enter and the tub was big enough for him to sit in it, but he won’t be using it anytime soon. It’ll leave too much evidence. Krauser briefly inspected himself in the bathroom mirror, seeing the dark circles under his eyes, his pale skin, and the stubble that was slowly growing out. He hasn’t gotten a chance to rest properly let alone have a proper meal in quite a while. He doesn’t exactly have a home for himself since he sold his apartment and his safe house was in another country he hardly goes to anymore. If he’s lucky since learning of Dullahan’s home, he hopes she doesn’t mind him crashing her place whenever she’s not around for the time being.

Her office table was the last to be inspected after leaving the bathroom. “Of course you have a password.” He grumbled to himself upon opening her laptop before closing it and searched through her drawers where he discovered a single sheet of paper containing coordinates that looked important to be written down by her. He copied them down on a fresh sheet of paper he found in another drawer and tucked it away in his pocket. Another accidental discovery he stumbled upon was another hidden compartment underneath the coordinates he had copied from containing a file detailing her next mission. A smirk crept on his lips. It seems she’ll be leaving tomorrow and she’ll be away for at least five days by most. 

Perfect.

There was nothing left to investigate in her home other than taking a few things from her fridge and a bottle of water and it was time to leave. He found what was important and he’ll use it to his advantage when she’s away. 

He left it for day one so he won’t accidentally break in while she’s packing her gear to leave for her mission. It was only on day two he repeated how he snuck in with ease and let out a long heavy sigh of relief as soon he entered the empty loft. He dropped his large duffel bag containing his clothes and all of his necessities on the floor, a couple of plastic bags containing the food he purchased for himself to cook with her kitchenware on the kitchen island, and made his way to the couch to rest. It was plush but he didn't care. He got a place to rest and regain his strength. It’ll be his own little secret and he’ll make sure she never knows that someone like him was using her place to crash for the time being. 

Once he was well rested after a few good hours, he went straight upstairs to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Krauser instantly melted by the hot water running down his body, soothing away the tense muscles and aches he had on him, and washing away the smell and grime off him. The smell of her body wash and her shampoo was a bit too strong for him and too scented for his type. Thank god he brought his own products. It did however make him curious how it smelled like on her. None of the scents he smelled on her during their ‘close interactions’ were nowhere close to what she has in her bathroom. It’s a shame he admitted since he can be quite a curious man needing the answers straight away.

The shower was done and Krauser proceeded to shave his five o’clock off with his knife. It was quite sharp that he didn't need to use a razor at all. His knife can get the job done easily without a hassle. 

Sleep was what he wanted again but he was craving to get a proper meal in his stomach after being on the road for quite some time, living off on rations and granola bars until he found a mom and pop diner or a bar that made a decent good meal. The place Trish works at was made as a mental note to visit and eat there again. Only when she’s not there or maybe when he chooses to surprise her by his presence as usual. As of now, cooking his food was his main priority. 

Three months

Krauser doesn’t often sneak into her loft and when he does, he always made sure nothing of his was left behind, the place was deep cleaned free of his prints, he thrown out his own trash into a garbage bag rather than the trash can and dispose of it at the dumpster the next block over, wiped his fingerprints away on anything he touched and used, and anything in her name was not out of place or excessively used to indicate his usage on her stuff. 

Yet somehow Dullahan knew someone had been sneaking into her home. She told him that when they ended their mission in Krauser’s motel room. He saw that distant look on her face illuminated by the large neon sign outside his window, the way her eyebrows furrowed together, her cigarette hanging from her two fingertips, and that annoying knee bouncing she does when she’s agitated on the worn out pleather chair. 

“Why the hell are you telling me this?” He let out a grunt while he rubbed his sore neck from all the hair grabbing she did to make him look up at her face while she was riding him. He was actually glad she told him now that he’ll collect more information to be prepared for next time or lay low at one of her safe houses from the coordinates he wrote down. She has quite a lot in a number of countries and he wasn’t complaining, only the lack of specific necessities but it was simply a pet peeve. 

Dullahan took a drag of her cigarette, thinking on what to say, and blew out two smoke rings. Impressive. She gave him her answer after putting it out. “I know you’re quite an expert in traps and alarms so I’m asking as a favour for some of your devices.” It easily caught his full attention with a raised scarred eyebrow and long exhale releasing a stream of smoke. He leaned against the headboard, crossing his muscular arms against his chest and soon let out a deep chuckle.

“What’s in it for me?”

“It depends on what you want from me in return.” She was starting to dress herself all while keeping her pain subdue at her hips area. Damn him for grabbing them so hard his thumbs left bruises on them but damn does he fucked her so good. She swore could still feel his lingering touches on her skin and those sharp canines when he was marking her on her right shoulder. He always made her melt like a puddle with brute force and she always enjoyed it without admitting it to his face. “If you need me to collect any information for you? Fine. Return the same favour with my own devices? Sure. Name your price.”

Krauser let her words simmer in his head, a smirk almost gracing on his lips Dullahan quickly figured out what he could be thinking. “I need to know if you’re allowing me. If you say no then the offer is off the table. Got it?” “That sounds tempting, dollface.” He let out another chuckle as he leaned onto his knees propped up, cocking his head slightly in her direction as she finished dressing herself but not in that blue jacket and her helmet. Both of them were packed away in her bag and they were replaced with a black leather jacket and biker’s helmet. “I’ll think about it.”

“You have until tomorrow evening to tell me or else you’ll get nothing from me.” She straightened back her shoulders, almost wincing when the fresh bite mark brushed against the fabric of her jacket, forced to exhale softly through her teeth and catching his smirk grew a bit wider revealing part of those sharp canines. As she half frowned from the sight of that damn smirk, it sent a shiver down her spine. No matter what, it always got her. “Goodnight, Major.” She made her way for the exit, her helmet tucked under her right arm and her bag slung over her left shoulder. As soon the sound of his door was closed shut, he let out a heavy sigh to himself, leaning back against the headboard again, tapping the ashes out while smoothing his hair back. 

It had put him in a bit of a dilemma if he chose to allow it to happen and yet it was his own device he created. Surely he will bypass it and note down where she would place them the next time he sneaks back into her loft. However, that is the problem. Two problems whether he accepts or rejects it. Accepting it, she’ll probably rework his traps and that’ll put him in a predicament. Rejecting it, she’ll find either someone else or make her own alarm system. That woman continues to be unpredictable and he was still impressed by it while there’s that lingering annoyance at the back of his head. 

He set up their meeting at the diner across the motel. By the time Dullahan arrived Krauser was already finishing his second plate and requested his third refill of coffee. She ordered herself a strawberry milkshake and curly fries. He had to witness her dipping the said fries into her milkshake and eating them like it was a normal combination. 

The hitman saw his irked expression and she gave him one of her teasing smiles towards him. “It’s good if you try it, Jackie.” “I’ll pass.” He grunted and then brought a small black briefcase onto the table and slid it across her. “Here. I did some quick modifications to it and whoever your intruder is will get a little something without needing to lift those pesky nimble fingers of yours.” Krauser casually leaned back against the booth while Dullahan inspected the traps and alarms with great curiosity. He picked up the remote from the case. “Once you install them, it’ll automatically connect to this once you press this button.” He tapped the green button with his middle finger. “Keep it on you at times, there’s no replacement so good luck getting back inside if you lose it.”

“This is quite kind of you to lend me your traps, Krauser.” Dullahan told him once she put the stuff back inside the briefcase and closed it, bringing it onto her side. “I’ll return it back to you when I have my own alarm system set up.” The milkshake was pushed away so her elbows can rest on the table. “Now for the favour.” She was immediately silent by the raise of his gloved hand.

“Save it. I don’t have anything to ask from you,” he told her, taking note of her expression by his rejection. The way her eyebrows knitted together and her lips pulled into a fine thin line if he was pulling her leg, literally. “Not yet that is. I’ll hold onto the offer until the time comes.” His promise wasn’t enough to satisfy her questions that were currently swimming in her head as she continued to stare straight at him. He casually shrugged his shoulders. “Take it or else I take it back.”

Her hand automatically went over the briefcase. “I’ll take it still.” She stuffed her hand into her pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill onto the table, paying for both her order and Krauser’s while tipping their server handsomely at the same time. “Thank you really, Jack.” It was very rare to hear his first name being spoken and the majority addressed him as either Krauser or Major, nothing more and nothing less. But not her. She calls him with only one particular nickname to either tease the man or annoy him for specific reasons as he does to her in return. At times she will address him correctly and very rarely she calls him Jack unless she was serious or sincere about it.

And she was sincere by what he has done for her.

His hand made a sweeping motion for her to leave. “Just go, Trish.” Simply by saying her actual name in return was his small sign of respect towards her. “And be careful with it.” “I will.” She assured him as she collected her stuff. “Thank you again. Goodbye for now.” 

The mercenary grunted his goodbye right as she left the diner and waiting to see her drive off, he patted the side pockets of his cargo pants to make sure he had given her the right remote which is actually a copy of the original that is in his possession right now. She will have her loft protected when she’s at work but when she’s away, he will still use her place and he can easily deactivate the alarm system from outside the door with the push of the button. He also installed a tracking ware in the devices so he can know where she would set them up. There’s three devices and he’s certain two of them will be installed by both doors and it’s only the third one he will need to check where she’ll place it when he’s there eventually for next time.

[placesyoucallhome]

Drunk wasps, wild turkeys and pokemon cakes. You live an interesting life.

mmm, bear with me here-

I've taken art classes since I was a kid, like traditional art training since the age of like, five. Mostly from the same guy, he was also my AP art teacher in highschool. But for a lot of that time my art was very... bland, flat. I was taught to draw what I saw, in a very literal sense, he wouldn't even allow us to take a picture of our subject matter to work on outside of class hours (mind you, there were no cell phone cameras then we were working off digital cameras mostly but that's beside the point). So, much of my art was also literal, leaves were greens, brick was red, water was blue. My art wasn't great, and I couldn't quite figure out why.

I also took art classes in college, whole different teacher, he admitted my technical skill was there, but I wasn't pushing things at all, and I really still didn't 'get' it. I eventually got to an oil painting class, and again my technical skill was there, but it fell flat.

Until one assignment. He set up a still life, basic, I couldn't tell you how many damn still lifes I've done, but this one was only in greys. Every single item was a flat shade of grey, and our assignment was 'paint in color'. It took me a bit, to see it, and I won't say that I got it immediately right then, but it started to click. Literally, those vases and boxes were grey, and that wasn't the point, the point was choosing to see the colors in that. There's the golds of the sun through dirty skylights, the copper bouncing up from the cheap flooring, the blue shining from the jacket of the kid falling asleep in the front row. Once you think to look for it, you can see the bouncelights and colors, there's a rainbow in even a white wall, I would know, I painted one.

My point is, life is bland, painfully so, or worse, its stressful, painful. One can see things literally, in dull shades, that tree in the yard invites bugs, living near the metroparks means local forest wildlife, a lot of my 'art' nowadays is done in buttercream, and everything is... boring.

Or, you can find the color in the little things, like the ridiculousness of the fact that apparently local herds of deer like to get drunk off fermenting ornamental pears in our front yard, or the comedy of trying to find a way to explain what the hell Mewtwo is to a coworker that's never played pokemon.

I write and present things the way I do because, I choose to see the colors in mundane things. It doesn't make living less painful, but it can make it easier to bear.

[king24215]

Interior Designing

My Introduction

Welcome to my Blog. My name is Williamson Isaac and this blog will focus on Interior design.

I will be focusing on the historical background of interior designing as well as the main element of interior design such as space, line, color, and texture main areas I would like to explore in this topic are specialized fields in the interior design set designing, lighting design, furniture and home furnishing, and Interior architecture color and design.

My Why

My Grandmother inspired me to choose this topic because I grew up with us not being too wealthy but she always found a way to make the house look special during the holidays and different seasons throughout the year. For example, during the Christmas and winter months, she would change around furniture and change the rugs, chairs, cushion covers, and curtains to mostly red and green. “Christmas colors”.

In the spring she would do it again usually with pastel colors and her favorite flower pink hibiscus that she would put in her simple clear vases and would sit all around the house mainly in the front room and pouch.

During summer she didn’t do a lot because she saw that summer and spring had around the same feeling and the same temperature. Anytime I would have asked my Grammy why she liked to do so much and so often she would say “Love to decorate”.Since that day I’ve always had a way to help my Grammy whenever she decorates the house she teaches me a new lesson every day and it has made us closer.

The History

The interior design practice goes back to the Ancient Egyptians who decorated their naive mud homes with basic furnishings enhanced by animal skins, spiritual murals, sculptures, and painted urns

What is an Interior Designer?

An interior designer is someone who coordinates decorative settings in buildings, such as furniture and carpeting. Interior designers make indoor spaces functional, safe, and beautiful by determining space requirements and decorative items, such as colors, lighting, and materials.

Types of Interior Designing

Set Designing

Set design is a physical space in which the action is performed or an event takes place. Usually used to describe theater productions, it constitutes all the scenery, furniture, props, appearance, and overall look of the stage.

A small difference!

 Both careers require creativity and impeccable attention to detail which makes them exactly similar. The only difference between the two is that interior design typically involves designing spaces inside of homes or workplaces while a set designer usually works on scenery for productions outside of it or even just within another building without actually being in that space when designing it and that's why it is a type of designing.

Midcentury Modern Style Designing

The midcentury modern style flourished during the mid-20th century when newly post-War families began expanding into America's suburbs around 1945-1969. Elements of mid-century modern interior design include clean lines, muted tones, a combination of natural and manmade materials, graphic shapes, vibrant colors, and integrating indoor and outdoor motifs.

Interior Architecture

Interior architecture focuses on the interior and its functionality for humans. The interior architecture blends art and science to create, restore, or readapt the inside of various buildings, like homes, offices, or other interior spaces. This type of architecture also involves converting one type of space into another like turning the indoor space of an old office building into livable housing.

What is an interior architect?

Interior architects are usually involved in the building or rebuilding of interior environments, often changing the actual structure. 

Interior Furnishing

Interior furnishing is the act of decorating a house or room but it is intended for use or which may reasonably be expected to be used, in homes, offices, or other places of assembly or accommodation.

Lighting Designing

Lighting design is that part of any interior design project where the designer has to know all the important aspects of lighting that can influence a space. It is one of the most important part of interior furnishing. Expertly placed lighting adds another dimension to a space, bringing an interior design project to life.

Why is it important?

Great lighting creates depth and height, cozy spots, and draws attention to your most impressive areas. It’s all about the balance of light and shade and bringing new energy to an interior. An architect or interior designer may just draw a grid of downlights into their plans for your interior, which won’t do justice to what they have designed. Calling lighting experts to work in harmony with your interior designer or architect will maximize the impact of your space.

[mezthecalligrapher]

Arabic Calligraphy: Beautiful and Affordable Art for Your Home

Introduction to Arabic Calligraphy

Hey there, art lovers! Have you ever seen those beautiful, flowing lines of Arabic writing and thought, "Wow, that's gorgeous"? Well, you're not alone! Arabic calligraphy is a stunning art form that's been around for centuries, and it's still going strong today. Let's dive into the world of Arabic calligraphy and discover how you can add some of this beautiful art to your home without breaking the bank.

The Beauty of Minimal Arabic Calligraphy

Less is More

You know how sometimes the simplest things can be the most beautiful? That's exactly what minimal Arabic calligraphy is all about. It's like the little black dress of the art world – elegant, timeless, and goes with everything!

The Power of White Space

One thing I love about minimal Arabic calligraphy is how it uses white space. It's not just about the writing – it's about the space around it too. It's like the calligraphy is dancing on the page, with plenty of room to show off its moves.

Vibrant Colors in Arabic Calligraphy

Traditional Meets Modern

While traditional Arabic calligraphy often uses black ink on light paper, modern artists are shaking things up with bold, vibrant colors. It's like they're taking this ancient art form and giving it a fresh, funky makeover!

Choosing Colors That Pop

When you're looking for Arabic calligraphy for your home, don't be afraid to go for something colorful. A piece with bright blues, reds, or golds can really liven up a room. It's like adding a splash of sunshine to your walls!

Finding Affordable Arabic Calligraphy

Online Marketplaces

You don't need to fly to the Middle East to find beautiful Arabic calligraphy (although that would be a fun trip!). There are lots of online marketplaces where artists sell their work directly. It's like a global art fair right at your fingertips!

Supporting Emerging Artists

One great way to find affordable Arabic calligraphy is to look for work by emerging artists. Not only will you get a unique piece at a great price, but you'll also be supporting an artist at the start of their career. It's a win-win!

DIY Arabic Calligraphy

Learning the Basics

Feeling creative? Why not try your hand at Arabic calligraphy yourself? There are lots of online tutorials and workshops where you can learn the basics. It's like learning to dance – it takes practice, but it's so much fun!

Tools to Get Started

You don't need fancy equipment to start with Arabic calligraphy. A simple calligraphy pen and some nice paper will do. It's like baking – you don't need a professional kitchen to make something delicious!

Incorporating Arabic Calligraphy into Your Home Decor

Mixed Media Magic

Arabic calligraphy doesn't have to be just framed prints. Some artists combine calligraphy with other art forms like painting or collage. It's like a artistic mash-up that can add a really unique touch to your home.

Everyday Objects with a Calligraphic Twist

Look for everyday items with Arabic calligraphy on them – think cushions, vases, or even tea towels. It's a great way to add little touches of this beautiful art form throughout your home.

Conclusion

Arabic calligraphy is a beautiful art form that can add a touch of elegance and culture to any home. Whether you go for a minimal style or something more colorful, there are affordable options out there for everyone. So why not give it a try? Your walls will thank you!

MezTheCalligrapher | Modern & Abstract Art Phone: +971 50 418 1544 Email: fathimamizna09@gmail.com Social Media: https://www.instagram.com/mezthecalligrapher?igsh=MTF2YWdwMHBpZTdlZA%3D%3D&utm_source=qr

[two-oaks-farmstead]

DIY Christmas Decorations: Get Creative and Crafty

DIY Christmas Decorations Are you ready to unleash your creativity and add a personal touch to your home decor? Look no further than DIY Christmas decorations! With the holiday season just around the corner, it's the perfect time to get crafty and create your own unique ornaments and decorations. DIY Christmas decorations not only add a special charm to your home, but they also allow you to express your individuality while staying within a budget. By using simple materials and repurposing items you already have, you can transform ordinary objects into stunning pieces of art. DIY Believe Sign Simple DIY project that can be customized to any theme or decor style. DIY Farmhouse Advent Calendar Super simple project the whole family will love! Count the days down together will a little DIY flair! DIY Vase Holder Christmas Decor This is a terrific project and it could lend itself to a variety of decor themes. It doesn't have to just be for Christmas! Homemade ornaments are a great place to start with DIY Christmas decorations. From paper snowflakes and salt dough ornaments to hand-painted baubles, the possibilities are endless. Let your imagination run wild as you experiment with different shapes, colors, and textures. Embroidery Hoop Faux Concrete Christmas Tree Ornaments Basic supplies and a small amount of time will result in these precious Christmas Ornaments. DIY RUSTIC CLAY TAGS Fun and easy Christmas DIY! DIY Shiplap Farmhouse Ornament Step by Step instructions for this simple but great ornament for Christmas! If you're looking for budget-friendly DIY Christmas decorations, consider repurposing everyday items. Turn old mason jars into sparkling candle holders or transform wine corks into adorable mini reindeer. Not only will these projects save you money, but they'll also give new life to items that would otherwise be discarded. DIY Christmas Mason Jar Lid Scrabble Ornaments Neat and easy ornaments that can be made from odds and ends around the house! DIY Wooden Snowman Repurposing is awesome, especially when you come out with DIY Christmas Decorations. Hardware Christmas Tree Old rusty bits and pieces plus some scrap wood can become a beautiful piece of decor! So why not embrace the joy of DIY Christmas decorations this holiday season? Get creative, get crafty, and let your imagination shine as you bring festive cheer into every corner of your home. You may also want to check out some of our other Holiday posts such as Cozy Farmhouse Christmas, Whimsical Christmas, Beautiful Blue Christmas, 27 Christmas Theme Options, and more! So Much More is On Its Way! Don't miss anything in our upcoming posts in the Budget Friendly Christmas Decorating Series! There is so much more to see! MORE WAYS TO CONNECT We also, as a homesteading family, have a variety of blogs that might interest you. A Life on the Farm focuses on the more personal side of the homesteading life. We discuss subjects like family, parenting, relationships, homeschooling, cooking, canning and so much more. Two Oaks Farm Talk concerns the more technical side of homesteading. We discuss subjects like gardening, food prep, and farm building and construction with lots of tutorials! Farm Raised Family is basically a hub for everything under the Two Oaks Farmstead umbrella. You can learn a great deal about all parts of the farmstead there. The Farm Raised Family blog focuses on financial matters such as budgeting, saving, and more and on current events affecting families. You can also have a more in depth look at all that we do by visiting our Two Oaks Farmstead YouTube Channel and be sure to subscribe so that you don’t miss a thing! Farm Life and Freedom is the new podcast we are in the process of launching! It is going to be so much fun! You could also check in with our Farm Life and Freedom Youtube Channel. Two Oaks Farmstead is the farm store… the one that holds the umbrella! Check us all out and join us, not only on our blogs and Farm Life and Freedom podcast but come join the fun on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter… wherever you get social! Read the full article

[roundhome]

Interior Designing: How to Transform Your Home into a Stylish Abode

Interior designing is an art form that should be taken seriously. It’s not just about picking out the right furniture and making the space look aesthetically pleasing, but it’s also about creating a place that is comfortable and inviting. If done correctly, interior designing can make your home look more inviting and inviting, and can add immense value to it.

The good news is that interior designing is much more accessible now than ever before. With the availability of online tutorials and resources, anyone can learn the basics of interior design and begin transforming their homes into stylish abodes. Here are some tips to get you started:

Start with a plan. Before you begin, it is important to have a plan in place. This will help you determine the best layout for your home, as well as the style, colors, and materials that you would like to use. Planning ahead will also help you save time and money in the long run.

Choose the right colors. Colors play a major role in interior designing, so be sure to choose colors that will bring out the best in your home, while also complementing other features such as furniture and accessories.

Shop around. When it comes to purchasing furniture, accessories, and other materials, it is important to shop around to find the best deals. Compare prices at different stores to ensure that you are getting the best value for your money.

Consider the lighting. The lighting in a room can make or break its appearance, so be sure to take this into account when planning your interior design. Different types of lighting can be used to create different moods and atmospheres, so be sure to experiment with different lighting options interior designer in pune.

Accessorize. Accessories are a great way to add personality to a room. Whether it’s a vase, a painting, or a piece of artwork, accessories can be used to express your unique style and add a touch of character to your home.

Focus on the details. Paying attention to the small details can have a big impact on the overall look of a room. Be sure to consider things like window treatments, wall hangings, and other small details when designing your space.

Don’t be afraid to experiment. Interior design is all about experimentation, so don’t be afraid to try something new. Even the smallest changes can have a big impact on the overall look of a room.

By following these tips, you can transform your home into a stylish abode that you can be proud of. Interior design is a fun and rewarding process, so don’t be afraid to get creative and have some fun!

[comrade-meow]

When The Drummers Were Women

By Layne Redmond

Yes, guys, there was a time in our history when the primary percussionists and drummers were women. The first named drummer in history was a Mesopotamian priestess named Lipushiau. She lived in the city-state of Ur in 2380 BC, which at that time had conquered all the surrounding city-states. She was the spiritual, financial and administrative head of the Ekishnugal, the most important temple in Ur dedicated to the moon god, Nanna-Suen. Her emblem of office was the balag-di, a small round frame drum used to lead liturgical chanting. In 2380 BC, Lipushiau ruled!

From the civilizations of Anatolia (Old Turkey), Mesopotamia, Egypt, Greece and Rome, the Goddess and the frame drum emerge as the core trance and mystical religious traditions. The frame drum was once at the center of the oldest rave like gatherings — it was the oldest technology for altering consciousness. The mystery rites would last for days at a time with nonstop drumming and dancing. Get this in perspective — this was church. Quite a different religious experience than I had growing up! A frame drum is defined by the diameter of the drumhead being much larger than the depth of its shell. The shells range in depth from 2" to at most 6". They range in diameter from 4" to 30". Most of these drums are portable and can be held in one hand.

The frame drum most often has a skin on only one side but sometimes it may have skins stretched across both sides. Bells or jingling and rattling implements may be attached to the inside rim, and in ancient times were believed to add to the drum’s power to purify, dispel and summon. Very often the drums were painted red, the color of blood, or sometimes green, the color of vegetation, the primordial colors of life. Mystical designs and symbols might also be painted on the skin head or the wooden frame. Threads or ribbons knotted with ritual prayers or chanting often hung from them.

Although this frame drum is similar in appearance to the shaman’s drum found throughout Asia and North America, there is a major difference in how they are played. The shaman’s drum is struck with a bone, horn or stick. The Mediterranean frame drum is played with the bare hands. While striking a drum with a stick gives a single deep resonant sound, finger techniques allow more variety: a deep, open tone, a slap, a high-pitched rim sound, or a soft brushing sound. This difference in stroke technique has led to differences in construction. The inner edge of the rim of the Mediterranean frame drum is often beveled and its skin is usually thinner, to enhance the sounds produced by fingers and hands. Hand or stick? I have not been able to determine which technique is older - the shaman’s drum played with a stick or the frame drum played with bare hands. The use and basic constructions of the drums are so similar that they probably both grew from the same root techniques of altering consciousness. In every ancient Mediterranean civilization I studied, it was a goddess who transmitted to humans the gift of making music. In Sumer and Mesopotamia it was Inanna and Ishtar; in Egypt it was Hathor; in Greece, the nine-fold goddess called the Muse. Musical, artistic and poetic inspiration was always thought to spring from the Divine Feminine. One of the main techniques for connecting to this power of inspiration was drumming.

The drum was the means our ancestors used to summon the goddess and also the instrument through which she spoke. The drumming priestess was the intermediary between divine and human realms. Aligning herself with sacred rhythms, she acted as summoner and transformer, invoking divine energy and transmitting it to the community.

The earliest known depiction of any drum was painted on a shrine room wall in 5600 BC in a Neolithic city in what is now Turkey. The shrine room wall depicts a group of ecstatically dancing figures, some of which appear to have percussion instruments. A band of human figures clad in leopard skins play various percussion instruments as they dance ecstatically around a large bull. One figure holds a horn-shaped instrument in one hand and a frame drum in the other. Other figures carry what look like shakers or rattles, as well as bowed instruments similar to the Brazilian berimbau. The excavating archaeologist, James Mellaart, has unearthed numerous other shrines in this city honoring a great goddess, and he believes that primarily priestesses tended these shrines. To date, the wall painting is our oldest evidence of a goddess-based tradition in which the frame drum was used in ecstatic rituals.

From 3000 to 2500 BC, written records of the Sumerians describe the goddess Inanna as the creator of the frame drum, along with all other musical instruments. They tell of Inanna’s priestesses who sang and chanted to the rhythms of round and square frame drums. Along with the written texts, numerous figurines of women playing small frame drums have been found. These drumming rituals were carried on in the later worship of Ishtar, Asherah, Ashtoreth, Astarte, and Anat in Mesopotamia, Phoenicia, Palestine and Assyria. Somewhere between 2000 and 1500 BC, the frame drum arrives in Egypt. James Blades reports, “All records from this period (Middle Kingdom) show the performers as women; in fact the whole practice of the art of music appears to have been entirely entrusted to the fair sex, with one notable exception, the god Bes, who is frequently represented with a drum with cylindrical body (frame drum).

”Another text described the priestesses as the composers and choreographers of the music and dance used on religious occasions. In the Cairo Museum there is an actual rectangular double-headed frame drum from 1400 BC that was found in the tomb of a woman named Hatnofer. Also surviving from the Ptolemaic period is the skin head of a frame drum on whose surface is painted a woman playing a frame drum in front of the goddess Isis. The inscription on the drum reads, “Isis, Lady of the Sky, Mistress of the Goddesses.”

It is important to comprehend the significance of women’s control of sacred music and dance in Egypt. Religious ceremonies based on music and dance can synchronize the underlying energy of the mind and directly influence our perceptions of reality. Ritual influences our modes of awareness that both underlie and transcend the normal patterns of consciousness. Rites can be used to rouse and shape group emotion and behavior, developing a continuous shared consciousness. Music vibrationally transmits states of mind directly from consciousness to consciousness. Thus, politically, music can resonate simultaneously on far more levels — emotional, spiritual, intellectual and physical — than can words alone. As music initiates changes in group consciousness, it can affect vast social and economic cycles.

The Biblical lands have also yielded numerous images of women playing the frame drum. Old Testament texts refer to the tambourine as the toph, which as been translated as the timbrel and the tabret. Exodus 15:20, “And Miriam, the prophetess, sister of Aaron and Moses, took a timbrel in her hand, then the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances.” In some legends it is said that Miriam parted the Red Sea with the shamanistic power of her drumming.In Greece, some of the most beautiful representations of the frame drum are found on the red figured vase paintings from the fifth century BC. The frame drum entered Greece from several different directions — from Cyprus, one of the main centers of the cult of Aphrodite where the frame drum was prominent from at least 1000 BC, and also from Crete, where it was used in the rituals of Ariadne, Rhea and Dionysos.

Pre-classical Greece also saw the introduction of the cult of the goddess Cybele, from Western Anatolia. The tympanum, the Greek frame drum, was the main instrument of the maenads, the women initiates, in the worship of Cybele and Dionysos, and the priestesses of Artemis, Demeter and Aphrodite also played them. Both single-headed and double-headed frame drums appear, once again played almost exclusively by women.

The Romans saw the last great flowering of these rites when the religion of Cybele was brought to Rome in April of 204 B.C. She was described as, “Cybele, the All-Begetting Mother, who beat a drum to mark the rhythm of life.” Rome was the cultural center for the mystery religions of Cybele, Dionysos, Isis and Dea Syria — all of which used the frame drum in their ecstatic rituals. These practices flourished until the Roman Empire officially adopted Christianity in the fourth century A.D.

In the ancient world, prayer was an active, trance-inducing combination of chanting, music and dance, and initiates often danced the sacred spiral into the labyrinth. The classic labyrinth is a single path meant for meditative circling. To enter it is to experience a ritual death; to escape from it is to be resurrected. The danced line into the labyrinth was a sacred path into the inner realm of knowing. Dancers holding a rope signifying Ariadne’s thread (that allows participants to find their way in and out of the maze) followed a leader into the labyrinth, spiraling right to left, the direction of death. At the center they turned, dancing out in the direction of evolution and birth, all to the driving rhythms of the frame drums. Another function of the frame drum was to create a prophetic trance state in which the priestess could foretell the future. The most dramatic mode of prophecy was uttered in inspired rhythmic speech. In the depths of ecstatic trance, the oracle was possessed by the goddess, who rapped in powerful rhymes directly through her lips. The Greek word for this state of transfigured consciousness is enthusiasmos – “within is a god” – the root of our word enthusiasm.

Ecstatic prophecy has many parallels with shamanism. Prophetesses sought inspiration through a number of external stimuli, including fasting, ingesting honey, inhalation of burning herbs or essential oils and intoxication via alcohol or psychotropic plants. Cybele’s priestesses relied most heavily on the trance-inducing properties of music and dance. The rhythms of frame drums, cymbals and flutes moved them towards the consecrated, concentrated state of divine revelation.

The Dionysian rites are the most widely known of all the mystery schools and have an enduring reputation as drunken sexual orgies. This is due to the later descriptions by Christian political leaders to whom the ancient mysteries of the goddess along with ecstatic drumming, dancing and in this century, rock and roll, have been labeled devil worship. Our word “orgy” comes from orgia, derived from the root word meaning “deed.” The term was used for the celebrations following initiation in mysteries, which might or might not include sexual imagery or behavior. Its ancient connotation seems to have been simply “secret rites.” Their aim was the ecstatic transformation of consciousness through rhythmic movement of the body.

Historians have associated the maenads, priestesses of Dionysos and Cybele, with unbridled sensuality and socially uncontrolled behavior. The word maenad means “mad women.” Their erotic longing for union with the Divine found expression in wild, barefoot dances to the primordial music of flute and drums, their unrestrained hair flying wildly about their faces, snakes wrapped around their arms. According to some reports they drank blood and tore wild beasts limb from limb. Not too far out of line from what might take place at a contemporary summer rock festival!

Wine was indeed an important part of the Dionysian mysteries. External stimulants were always used in pursuit of higher consciousness, for divine intoxication with the spirit of the deity. References to drinking blood may actually allude to a communion rite in which the fruit of the grape represented the blood of the deity, as it does today in Christian communion rites.

Mastery of the precise musical rhythms required to align the devotees’ consciousness with divinity suggests a control and sophistication of technique that contradicts the historical image of wanton frenzied women. Creating rhythms powerful enough to move hundreds of people into ecstatic trance states required skill, discipline and endurance.

With the ascendancy of Christianity, Cybele’s great temple in Rome was destroyed, the Vatican was built on the site and the new priesthood banned the priestesses, instruments and music associated with her rites. Not only was the frame drum banned from Christian religious rituals, its use in secular contexts was also frowned upon by the Church, in particular its use by women. The Catholic synod of 576 (commandments of the Fathers, Superiors and Masters) decreed: “Christians are not allowed to teach their daughters singing, the playing of instruments or similar things because, according to their religion, it is neither good nor becoming.

”For 3,000 years women had been the primary percussionists in the ancient world. As Europe pursued this policy of disallowing women to learn music, they effectively barred them from the professions of composing, teaching or performing.

The last 30 years have seen a dramatic rise in the number of professional women musicians, but there are still few women pursuing drumming. Although little is known about the history of frame drums and the women musicians who played them, it is an important part of our percussive history. And the ancient traditions of using drumming for spiritual purposes can point out what we have lost.

At contemporary rock concerts we have all the trappings of ritual without the spiritual purposes. Flashing trance-inducing lights, loud rhythmic sound, chanted and sung words, but often with no higher purpose than to momentarily entertain or to glorify the individual performer. And no matter how much idolization some of these quite gifted musicians attain, they are often driven to attempt to fill the emptiness with drugs and alcohol.

Yet I remember concerts that hinted at the search for wider realms and dimensions of being. The first concert I ever saw was a show by the Monkees. But what blew me away was the opening act — Jimi Hendrix. I had no frame of reference for where he was taking me. I soared with him beyond the known on the piercing sounds and songs of his guitar. Yet in the end he burned and beat that beautiful guitar to pieces. I had experienced something profound and transformative, but it had ended in destruction, leaving me bewildered and yearning for something more. I have spent the rest of my life looking for the pathway into the ecstatic that leaves me transformed, whole and euphoric.

This article was Originally published in DRUM! Magazine’s December 2000 Issue

[toko-writing-imagines]

V3 girls reacting to their s/o giving them a bouquet of flowers

This is more so a random idea that popped up in my head but it's a cute idea so why not write it out

Might do the other female casts from the other games if this one is well received (if not I'll still probably do it cus mm,, cute girls)

SDR2 version | THH version

【Kaede Akamatsu】

• Kaede was backstage after finishing up her amazing piano recital

• Since you were obviously her s/o, you were able to go backstage to see her before she went out or when she finished

• So you had the amazing idea to surprise her with a bouquet of flowers once she finished her recital

• And thats just what you did!

• You bought her a bouquet of her favorite flowers with a cute written notecard that said "Another amazing performance by my amazing Ultimate Pianist!"

• She was so happy when you surprised it to her, you have no idea

• She gave you a lot of kisses and when the two of you got home, cuddles!!

• Now the flowers sit beautifully in a colorful vase on top of the dresser in the bedroom, being taken care of everyday

【Kirumi Tojo】

• You decided to surprise her with flowers since Kirumi is always working so hard

• It's pretty easy to tell that being the Ultimate Maid wasn't easy at all

• It was one of those very rare days where Kirumi was able to take a light break and go over everything to see if she just so happened to forget something (she obviously didn't but an excuse is an excuse)

• You saw it as a perfect opportunity to surprise her with the flowers

• When you did show them to her, telling her that she didn't need to work so hard for everyone else and to just take care of herself once in a while, she smiled

• Success!

• She gives you cute peppered kisses as a thank you

• She waters and takes care of them everyday to make sure they never wilt

• Give her more flowers! She loves them a lot and always loves taking care of them

【Himiko Yumeno】

• She needed flowers for one of her magic shows

• So you got her a bouquet of them!

• A very pleased little mage

• She decided to split them up, using the ones needed for her show, and the rest for her hat

• She somehow gets them to stay on her hat without falling so now her mage hat is cutely decorated with the flowers you got her

• In addition, she puts a spell on them so they never ever wilt and stay in perfect condition

• You were glad the flowers weren't real anyways

【Angie Yonaga】

• Ahah! Her s/o strikes again

• You wanted to surprise her with flowers since Angie somehow hit some sort of creator/art block

• She was painting random things on a canvas when you decided to surpise

• She loved the flowers you got her!

• In reward, she gives you a playful kiss and also does a painting of the flowers

• She needed the inspiration, so she was extra happy that her s/o is her muse

• Will gift you the painting since you gifted her both the inspiration and flowers

• Now the painting is hanged up in the bedroom and the flowers sit in a handmade clay pot in Angie's art lab

【Miu Iruma】

• Honestly you didn't have much of a reason to gift her flowers

• You just wanted to do a cute romantic gesture

• You left the flowers on her desk in her lab, with an added bonus of a small box of chocolates

• When she found it, she freaked

• And I mean it when she freaked

• Miu basically ran over to you with blush across her face and gave you so so so many kisses

• Heck she'll probably end up making you some sort of invention

• She slightly sees this as a competition now

• Will probably brag about her golden brain and how she can always top your gifts with her inventions

• You don't take it personally and let her have her fun in this now made up competition to see who can give the best gift

【Maki Harukawa】

• You'll be lucky if you really even get a reaction from her

• Or at least get to see it upfront

• You know Maki is not exactly one for receiving gifts, so giving her a bouquet of flowers was definitely a surprise

• Her reaction to receiving the flowers can go one of two ways:

• One way would be is that she doesn't exactly give you a reaction, thanking you in her slightly monotonous tone, and taking the flowers away

• She'll be blushing though once she starts walking away with the flowers

• The other way would be that she'll already be blushing by the sudden gesture

• All you can hear is a soft stuttered "Thank you" while you look at your now blushing girlfriend

• Will probably gift you something in return either way despite which reaction you do get so don't worry too much ^^

【Tenko Chabashira】

• A huge sucker for gifts!

• She's always showering you with some kind of affection, so why not do the same to her in return?

• And gifting her flowers was a great choice!

• She was a blushing mess when you held them out to her, giving her all kinds of compliments along with it

• Tenko was so happy she felt her energized than before!

• She gave you so many kisses, and with her being a huge cuddlebug, expect tons of cuddle after her training sessions

• She even puts some of the flowers in her hair!! It's like you are always with her now and she looks even more fabulous than before

• No one gets to touch them! Touch the flowers and you'll be down on the floor in pain in a second

• They are special flowers to her, so no one but you and her get to touch the flowers

【Tsumugi Shirogane】

• A lot of fake flowers

• You often gift Tsumugi fake flowers because she'll usually need them for her cosplays

• But that doesn't mean she doesn't appreciate the gesture!

• In return you'll usually get kisses and get to try on her finished cosplay outfit with the flowers if you want too

• Sometimes she'll steal a few and wear them! Most likely just in her hair or incorporate it on her regular outfit

• But when you surprise her with a bouquet of real flowers, it takes her a minute to collect herself

• She turns into a slightly blushing mess and would try her best to take care of them

• The flowers sit in her lab so she can look at them whenever she's working on her cosplays

• But you'll probably get a bigger bouquet of flowers in return from her since its only fair

• And that's what people do in the animes right?

❀•°•═══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═══•°•❀

Yayay I got something done! I wonder how many people will bother reading this since this post is longgg-

Also we are slowly on our way to 100 followers! I'm so happy people like my blog enough to follow it ^^

Please send in requests if you have any! If you want to message it to me instead than please do that, but let me know if you want to stay anon or not!

also totally unrelated but what does it mean to kin someone cus i wanna do kin list for danganronpa but the whole kinning thing confuses me-

~ Mod Toko 💜

[hockeyboysiguess]

nine ladies dancing -> nine hockeys dancing | j. benn

a/n: i know christmas was two days ago, but 2020 isn’t real so here’s day 9. rest of the series linked here. 

word count: 2,799

warnings: single!dad jamie, a very absent mother figure, some cute dancing. 

“You want what?” 

Jamie sighed, covering his skate blades before dropping them into their designated spot in his stall, all part of his routine that was so practiced and rehearsed he didn’t have to think about anything before he did it. He thrived in the routine of it all, as much routine as he could get at the rink because when he got home, all semblance of a routine went out the window for the dark-haired little girl in pigtails on the background of his phone, sitting in his lap. She was five now, joyful and gap-toothed and as perfect as she’d been to him the day he knew that he was going to be her dad. She was his pride and joy, the only thing that when the sun set everyday, no matter where he was, mattered. It was him and her and he’d do anything to keep her smiling, including ask his teammates to sacrifice a little of their time and a lot of their pride for her.

“Lottie’s nervous about her recital for dance,” Jamie repeated himself slowly and steadily. “She’s scared she’s going to mess it up if she doesn’t practice in front of people who aren’t just her dad as she says, so I was hoping some of you might be willing to drop by the house later to give her an audience? I know it’s a lot to ask for this time of year.” 

Some of the younger guys bristled a little at the idea of giving up a prized free Friday night in Dallas without a team commitment the following day to watch Charlotte Benn dance as well as a five-year-old could perform The Nutcracker. Other teammates smiled with experienced and well-knowing understanding, having similar experiences in their own past, and standing up in front of the team to ask for something for their families. Jamie hated asking, but he asked more than anyone else. He hated asking now, especially this close to Christmas where people wanted to be with their families most of all, even though Jamie Benn hated Christmas these days. 

“What time do you want me?” left Tyler’s mouth so much more easily than the call for help had left Jamie’s moments before. “Who else is coming?”

Jamie’s calls for help were always answered in this room, a gift he never expected to receive but now couldn’t imagine his life without the people in this room. Especially as hands went up, along with a disjointed but beautiful chorus of, “I’m in,” and, “Me too,” fell from his teammates mouths, Jamie couldn’t stop the grateful smile from forming on his face. The support fell over Jamie’s shoulders in a way that reminded him of the way his mom would pull his heavy, puffy winter coat over his shoulders before sending him outside back home in Victoria ages ago, back when he thought his life was going to be simpler than it was, back when he thought he would follow the traditional order. Grow up, get a good job, find a wife, get married, have a few kids, and live happily ever after in a blissful, peaceful, uncomplicated, adult world. To be fair, Jamie had done most of that, but after Charlotte was born, she left them both, wiping her hands of him and her daughter without a thought of how cruel it really was to leave your child who hadn’t even seen a full year of life the day before her first Christmas.

Jamie hated her for a lot of things now. One of the many things was that she made him hate Christmas and hating Christmas just wasn’t ever in Jamie Benn’s plans. But he had to pretend he didn’t hate Christmas, or her for that matter, because Charlotte deserved to get to be happy and unburdened by her father’s hatred or her mother’s lack of desire to be her mother. So, Jamie Benn loved Christmas, as long as you didn’t look too deep into his eyes where the pain rested as he lied about how excited he was for it. 

Still, Jamie painted that smile on his face when he answered the door covered in the most basic Christmas wreath Jamie could get away with to see more of his teammates than he imagined standing behind it. Tyler led the group, big smile and a flower for Charlotte in hand, an attempt to maintain his title as her favorite uncle. Dicky and Guri seemed to have been pulled into this by Tyler, but were happy to have come along probably under the promise that Jamie might just join her for a terrible dance or two, terrible because of Jamie not Charlotte. The girl dad crew, as the shirts one of them had gotten them for the start of the season said, Comeau, Dowling, and Klinger, were all right behind them, and Bishop tagged along as well. The only true surprise was Rads, who despite being a dad himself, only had boys and wasn’t exactly a ballet sort of honorary uncle, but Tyler Seguin could make people do a lot of things for his very deserving niece and he’d put his mind to giving her the biggest audience possible. 

The smile relating to Christmas itself might have been fake, but the gratitude Jamie felt to his teammates for stepping up on short notice brought a real one to his face in place of the fake one. His smile carried over as Tyler made a beeline for Charlotte who was standing in the living room, with all the furniture pushed to the walls, in her tutu and a gapped-tooth grin on her face. Tyler scooped her up easily, setting her on his hip and offering her the flower in one smooth motion. 

“For me?” Charlotte asked him, her little hands already reaching for it. 

“Of course it’s for you, Miss Charlotte,” Tyler smiled back at her as he placed it gently into her waiting hands. “There are no other pretty ballerinas around who deserve flowers.” 

“You’d make a pretty ballerina, Uncle Tyler,” Charlotte told him with her eyes trained on her flower. 

Jamie funneled past them and into the kitchen to grab a vase for it, the one Charlotte had decorated with her handprints in preschool. Jamie kept everything, every ornament, every macaroni art, every card, every little thing Charlotte made. He had bins of stuff by now, but he was more than content to buy more bins and fill his basement with everything she made. He rotated what was on the fridge weekly. This week, his fridge doors were full of various glittery Christmas artwork from school. Glitter rained on the floor every time he opened it. Jamie didn’t mind in the slightest.

Charlotte was charming his teammates with her dimpled smile when Jamie came back into the living room, vase with water in hand. He knelt down next to her and offered her the vase to slide her flower into. Taking it from her would lead to tears, but letting her put it in the vase she made herself eliminated that possibility. Jamie sat the flower in its vase next to the speakers and pulled up the soundtrack for her recital on his phone.

“Okay, you ready, Lottie?” 

Jamie’s question caused his teammates to settle themselves around the room. Tyler took the floor in front of Bish and patted the ground next to him for Jamie. He started the music, then made his way to his spot, slumping down onto the floor while Charlotte fussed with her dance costume and shuffled her feet on the floor. Jamie could hear her counting softly under her breath and see her foot loosely tapping to the beat. Jamie didn’t know a thing about dance, but he had seen Charlotte practicing enough to know she’d missed when she was supposed to come in and was just staring at her shoes instead. 

“You okay, honey?” Jamie asked her softly.

“I’m nervous, Daddy,” she mumbled in reply, fingers fussing with her tutu. “I don’t want to dance alone.”

Before Jamie could even begin to stand, Tyler was up on his feet and reaching for Charlotte’s small hands. She sheepishly held onto a few of his fingers. 

“Would it help if Uncle Tyler danced with you?” he asked her softly, head ducked down to be level with her. “That way, you won’t be doing it alone.” 

“But you don’t know the moves,” Charlotte mumbled, eyes trained on the grain of the hardwood as Tyler swung their conjoined hands back and forth to try and cheer her up. 

Tyler laughed as he spoke, “Uncle Tyler can manage just fine, with a little help from some friends?” 

Jason Dickinson was up on his feet without another word, with Guri hot on his heels and Klinger right behind him. Bishop might have been flexible, but dancing wasn’t exactly his forte. He still rose to his feet to join everyone else who was gathering around Charlotte. Tyler reached out and grabbed Rads’ forearm, seeing as he hadn’t moved yet, and yanked him into the crowd. 

“Daddy!” Charlotte called out from his spot among his teammates, hidden from view. “Come dance too!” 

Jamie really, really wasn’t a dancer. Jamie wasn’t a lot of things. He wasn’t the most bold sort of guy, preferring to stay inside of his comfort zone most of the time. He was a good captain, but not by being outspoken. He led quietly by example. Jamie wasn’t the guy who ever thought he’d be a single dad. Hell, sometimes Jamie thought he was the guy who was going to be relegated to the fun uncle role for his entire life before Charlotte was born. Jamie wasn’t the guy who ever thought he’d need other people like he needed people now, like he needed his friends to make his daughter feel comfortable enough to practice for her dance recital, a sentence Jamie never thought would be among his list of concerns in life, because he always thought his ex-wife would be there to help and could handle this sort of thing he was particularly bad at. 

Most of all, Jamie never thought he’d hate Christmas, but he truly couldn’t wait for December 26th to come and for that godforsaken tree tucked in the corner that reminded him of everything he wasn’t, everything that he’d failed at, to go back into its box, for his daughter to be doing normal ballet recitals instead of ones of the Christmas variety, for everything to stop reminding him of the holiday he used to love. Still, Jamie rose to his feet from the floor and restarted the music, ready to sway as poorly to it as he did, because Charlotte had asked him to, like doing it didn’t make his chest ache and his head spin as he remembered that life he was supposed to have but never would. 

Tyler was the best worst dancer of the bunch, attempting to spin when Charlotte did, arms over his head doing his best impression of a five-year-old doing her best impression of a real ballerina. Jamie just swayed a little to the music, feet shuffling side to side. Rads was trying his hardest to be The Grinch, but it was increasingly hard to do with their teammates making fools of themselves for the sake of Charlotte Benn, Guri finding himself in the air courtesy of Jason and being spun like a top. John was swaying with admiration on his face, seeing this as his future with his own little girl. Charlotte’s giggle was drowning out a lot of the music. Rads ended up slow dancing with Tyler after a fight about which of them was actually right to lead. The fight lasted all of four second before Radulov took charge and started leading Tyler around the living room. Comeau and Dowling were swaying together, giving Jamie supportive looks because they understood what seeing her laughter meant to him on a level others didn’t.

The only thing that dulled the ache in his chest was Charlotte’s laughter. She loved Christmas still, something Jamie would never try to take from her. He didn’t want to pass any of his resentment and anger down to her like a tradition that should’ve died years ago. It would die with him. Jamie was determined to make it so. 

His teammates doing their best attempts at ballet meant for five-year-olds to The Nutcracker soundtrack with the fire crackling in the background was a pretty good way to make sure all Charlotte remembered from his Christmas was love and joy. Jamie scooped her up as the song ended, causing a fit of giggles to pour from her mouth. 

“You did so good, peanut!” Jamie tickled her a little as he spoke, heightening her giggles. “So good, right guys?” 

The chorus of approvals and cheers from his teammates made Charlotte's smile wide impossibly more.

“I think I’m going to do so good tomorrow at the re-re-recital,” Charlotte stuttered a bit as she spoke. The word recital was a difficult one for her. “Uncle Tyler should join. He’s a good dancer.” 

“Not as good at you, Miss Charlotte,” he assured her, ruffling her hair a little and making her giggle again in Jamie’s arms. 

Charlotte carried the smile she grew that evening with her all the way through to her recital the next day. Jamie dropped her off early, as he always did, and took his seat in the audience among the other eagerly waiting parents. He managed to find a prized seat at the end of the aisle, where Charlotte might actually have a chance at spotting him from the stage.

“Is the seat next to you taken?” 

Jamie lifted his eyes from his phone to see you standing there, coffee in hand despite it being seven at night two days before Christmas. You were beautiful and Jamie wondered who you were here with. He wasn’t able to make most dance practices or parent events, so he didn’t have a good idea of who you might be even though it made him feel like a worse dad for not knowing.

“Your Charlotte’s dad, right?” you asked him after clearing your throat. 

“Uh, yeah,” Jamie mumbled as he scrambled to his feet to let you get by and take the seat next to him. He dropped back into his seat when you did. “How’d you guess?”

“Well, she looks just like you,” you told him. “But also, figured you had to be the hot single dad everyone talks about in the moms’ group chat.”

Jamie threw his head back and laughed, “The moms’ group chat talks about how I’m hot?”

“Shhhh,” you shushed him softly. “Don’t rat me out as the source of that information though. You’ll get me kicked out of the chat and that chat is the only source of entertainment I have in my life that doesn’t involve a five-year-old.” 

Jamie nodded and put a hand over his heart, “Your secret is safe with me. Promise.”

“Better be, or I’ll have to kill you,” you joked, drawing another laugh that caused him to tip his head back and shift his hand over his stomach as he laughed with his whole body. 

As he came down from his laughter, the lights began to dim around you to signal the start of the show. You watched as various moms slipped into the aisle, phones outstretched, to record the show. You shook your head softly. The studio always recorded the show and sent it to all the parents after, and you were partial to watching her dance with your own eyes rather than through your screen. 

“Gonna get out there?” Jamie whispered to you. 

“Their teacher will send out the recording,” you shrugged. “I’d rather watch it.”

“Finally,” Jamie sighed, voice heavy with relief, “someone else gets me.”

“Maybe we should sit together at more of these,” you suggested to him as the lights went dark. “Single parents who don’t believe in watching the recital through their phones.”

Normally, especially now when trees stood in people’s living rooms and wreaths hung on front doors, the acknowledgement Jamie was in this alone with Charlotte, that she left them both, made him feel alone. When the words left your mouth, Jamie felt a sense of closeness, of kinship, of mutual understanding that he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was natural, the way you two talked between dance numbers, about Charlotte, about your daughter, about hockey, about your work, about your lives. Jamie left that recital with your phone number burning a hole in his pocket and Charlotte’s hand in his, feeling like, for the first time in a long time that Christmas might still have some magic left in it after all.

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

hello! how are you? i hope you're doing fine, um i'm here because i wanted to ask if you can write about armin falling in love with someone who's related to art, like a painter and suddenly discovering a whole new world. i will be so happy if you can do it.

thank you and please, stay healthy! 💗

Hi💛 of course! I really love that idea! Plus as a painter myself the struggle is real man, just yesterday i was having an overwhelming meltdown over what type of brushes to buy.

You seem really lovely so here's a mini fic! 🌸

Armin falling in love with a Painter!reader

{ Armin x reader | tw: none | fluff, pinning | modern }

{ "The Cathedral of Saint Jacques le Mineur, Liege" 1846 by Jenaro Pérez Villaamil 1807 - 1854 }

Reading is Armin's best friend, it always has been. It kept him company on countless sleepless nights as a child, and now it offered the escape his soul needed when overwhelmed with troubles of being a living human in this current world.    

"It's just captivating," he explained to you one day while walking together, happily clutching the bags of books he just baught. You like how they smell. For someone who reads a lot, he surely seems to be out of words when it comes to describing things he's passionate about.

The winds picks up, your steps slow down. Armin is staring at your face, but it's not your eyes he's looking at. You smile and it brings him back to reality, he looks away, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

You offer to hold some of the heavy bags for him, he gives a warm smile. You think the faint color on his cheek is a really nice shade of pink, it looks lovely under the sun.

The more he took you with him on trips to the far away bookshop near the Riverside, the more you started to understand how a rearranging of words can pull him inside an entirely different world.

It was like he could be his true self when there, carefully reading the description at the back of the books. Frowning whenever he finds a review instead of a summary. you didn't mind tho, because it ment he'd have to read a few pages into the book and the shop had a nice corner couch you two would sit in.

He'd apologise for troubling you, you'd say he's never a bother for you that and reassure him that you enjoyed every last second.

Ah, there it is, that nice shade of pink again.   

 

-

In some way he managed to share his love for books with you, as you spend entire afternoons just sitting near each other. Your sketchbook in hand, the sound of your pencil lightly scratching the paper. Him next to you, his book in hand and reading just loud enough for you to hear.

You think he has a nice voice, so you say it out loud. For the rest of the evening, he stuttered through half the book.

You laugh at the funny moments together, be it a clever joke the author weaved in a serious moment or an incredibly redundant cliche trope that while predictable, was still as enticing.     

He would always look at you whenever you let a chuckle escape, staring just for a couple seconds longer than necessary.

That sketch ended up getting turned into a painting when Armin walked you home that day.

-

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!"

Blue glass shards are scattered on the table and floor, what remained of Armin's favourite mug. The puddle of coffee already sweeping into the canvas you left to dry there this morning.

It took you three days just for the layering.

It was a big canvas, cotton paper and natural wood. It cost a lot.

You know this feeling when you're so so broken about something that your brain just skips the denial and anger and jumps straight into depression? To say you were mad was an underestimated, and rightfully so.

Armin is trying to remove the coffee stains with the nearest towel he could find, it only smudges the paint more.

He looks terrfied.

"It was an accident I swear, I'd never..." his voice takes a higher pitch, hands shaking. "I'd never, ever mean to do this...I..." he hiccups, Voice quivering..

And just like that, all you anger fades away.

"Armin, hey" you take a step closer, carefully avoiding the broken glass.

He doesn't look at you, he's still desperate wiping the canvas. "I'll fix it, please I'll figure out a way."

The clutch he has on the towel only intensifies when you put your hand on his shoulder. "It's okay," you say "it's fine really, look at me."

And he does, with shame filled eyes. "No no no, it's not. I ruined it, your worked so hard on this and I just..." He looks down "it's NOT okay."

"Yes it is." You try to guide him away from the glass. "That's just a material object Armin, what's important is that you're okay."

He reluctantly follows, you both sit on the couch. His hands are clutching his knees. "I'm really sorry, it's okay if you want to yell at me you have the right to."

You cup his face in your hands, "don't say that, that's not true. It was an accident, I'd never ever yell at you."

Shock is clear in his eyes, his arms leave his knees to wrap around you, pulling you closer. His face buried in your shoulder. You stroke his back. Both of you stay like this for a long while, neither of you seems to want to let go.

At night, when he's getting ready to leave and go back home. You walk him to the door and he kisses your cheek as a goodbye.

the shade of pink you grew to love really goes along with his smile.

-

"Close your eyes and hold out your hand."

With the sparkle in his blue eyes and his hands hiding something behind his back, how could you say no.

So you do, and you feel his hand brushing against yours before a light weight is dropped on your palms. He gives you the okay so you open your eyes, an envelope.

It's cream white with a straw ribbon around it, it looks too good to open but you do anyway.

"Is that..." his smile grows as you pull out the card and paper inside, "a membership card."

"For the art course you've been saving up for! You seemed really excited when talking about it." He takes a step closer, tilting his head to the side as his blond hair brush against his neck. "Do you like it?"

"Armin I love it!" You're so happy that you don't dwell on it before pulling him into a hug, he eagrly hugs back and his hand lingers on you when you pull away. "But...isn't it too expensive ? How did you.."

His lips press into a thin line as he looks to the side, "don't worry about it, I've been also saving for a different reason."

Oh...yeah you know the reason, Eren’s been telling it to everyone after all. The three of them agreed to go on a trip overseas, even Mikasa seemed genuinely excited.

You look at him, you look at the envelope containing the art course of your dreams, you put the card back inside.

"I can't, " you hold it out for him, "you can still return this, they're very lean with their policies."

He doesn't take it. "Yes, yes you can. This isn't just because I feel bad for what i did, it's because..." he holds your hand in his, "because I want you to have it, you deserve the world and if i can I'd give it to you."

"But what about Mikasa and Eren, you know they've been looking forward for this."

"They'll understand that i can't come, and if they don't it's okay, they'll still enjoy it by themselves." He cups your face, looking at you like you're the only person in the world, "It's just a material thing after all, you aren't."

-

Armin likes to get out of his comfort zone evey once in a while, he likes to try new things no matter how intimidating they look.

Which is why, seeing him hesitantly entering the art classroom was not a surprise. His wide eyes switching their focuses between all the different objects in the room, from the canvas with a glaze shine on them, ready to get painted. Or the different shapes and sizes or brushes, the ones near the water jars looking softer than the rest.

You should've seen this coming, with Eren and Mikasa away on their trip, Armin has been hanging around you all the time. Not that you're complaining.

Looking at your still drying canvas, you quickly cleaned off your brush before using a towel to wipe your hands and elbows from paint stains.

"Armin," you said, amusement in your voice at seeing the blond out of his usual element. His curious eyes focus on you and he says a small hi with a wave.

You walk him through the basics, he nods while you explain the pros and cons of each paint type, what type of paintings it goes with and which techniques are the most common.      

After a couple minutes of him asking you to show him to use certain things and hold some brushes, he settles down for watercolors. You think it's adorably fitting.

While picking his brushes, you explain how in order to not damage the cotton papers, they have the softest hairs. To make your point, you take his arm in your hand and run a soft brush against his palm. He laughs softly saying it tickles, it's contagious and you're laughing too soon.

He picks the seat next to you, looking lost with the short brush in his hand and the already wet canvase. But it's a nice kind of lost, like the way a child would look at a new toy.

While he expriments at the corner of the canvas with different brushes and swipes the colors, other people start filling the room and soon enough everyone has taken their seats.

The instructer begans setting up today's study object, a couple of pink Camellias in a tinted turquoise vase, creating a nise color contrast.

You stare at them for a while, wondering where did you see that fimilar faint of pink. The question answers itself when Armin taps your shoulder and ask how to start layering the paint

-

It's around sunset when the two of you are walking together, he's talking about all the new things he never knew about art that he just discovered today. You're listening to him while nodding occasionally, it's when he stops mid-rant that you look at him.

"I just realised something" he says, before facing you.

"Oh? And what is it"

He looks at you, really looks at you. The sun is shining behind you as it says its last goodbyes for the day, making you look heavenly. "I realised that...I'm deeply in love with you"

[livlepretre]

Are there any real life moments or feelings that have made their way or informed scenes in any of your fics? Not asking about anything very deep or personal (unless you want to go there). For example, something as small as knowing specific places or sensations and using that to inform scenes better.

Oh tons and tons!

I did get lucky in two respects with writing tvd fic specifically--

I'm actually a painter in real life, so all of those details about using oil paints are from long years of personal experience, as well as all of the parts about drawing. The show is dreadfully wrong about the technicalities of how paint works, like, in just about every scenario, so it does grant me some satisfaction to write about it for real. (and to pretend that Klaus isn't an awful painter) (Writing about Elena as a writer is so much the same, though-- it's special as a writer to get to access a character who also writes, because there's that immediate connection to the process and the feelings that go with it)

The other is that the Originals happens to be set in Nola (for some reason), which I know better than any other place on earth. When I write about that, I'm really writing a love letter.

In general, I try to write about the places I really know well-- Nola and NYC are both pretty drawn out as portraits of those places just because I've spent so much time there (but, ummm, notice that all they seem to do in NY is drink and look at art, which is basically how I spent my 20s there ha) I picked Barcelona for SWBS in particular because I've actually been there, so I could write about my impressions of it (which get heightened in memory... and maybe that's a good thing for fiction) so much better than if I had picked, say, Marseilles where I've never been. That also extends to writing about the feelings certain places evoke-- the descriptions from the Met and the Frick, the air of nostalgia about them, the descriptions of the hall of broken Greek statuary, are all taken from a journal I was working in back when I was spending the winter in New York City and having a bizarrely melancholy time spending all day by myself at the Met.

Experience in the landscape is part of that. Every rural place feels different, and drawing on the physicality of the locations I've spent a lot of time hiking in like New Hampshire for example has really grounded the work. Also, paying attention to the things that are interesting-- I paint landscapes, mostly, so the shape of the land, the color and quality of the lighting, the kinds of flowers and trees and rocks, even the weight or lightness of the air itself, are all things which draw my attention anyway, so it's very natural for me to want to add them to fic-- and they all evoke really powerful sense memory for me, so I try to overlay that with any writing about emotions or introspection.

A lot of the details that fill the story in are just taken from personal interests-- like the books Elena reads in the library are almost all books I've read and loved, and which are influences one way or another on that story. Same for the hapless cooking experiments.

There's obviously also a ton in FE that I've gotten from talking to other people-- I personally have a knack for killing all plants I touch, but my mentor loves to garden, and invites me to paint in his garden all the time, so that's taken from him; I'm far too impatient for yoga or meditation, but again, that's the sort of thing my sister really benefits from, so I've talked to her about the experience of it a lot.

I think the creeping around old houses and snooping through shut in antique curiosities is like a very prime memory from my childhood. My grandfather had this ancient enormous ramshackle house from the 1860s that definitely used to be lots of different smaller buildings but were at some point seamed together; now, my grandmother was a legitimate hoarder (I'm being completely literal, like she makes the hoarders on TLC look like jokes), and there were lots of rooms that were shut off from the main part of the house because they were so full of dusty old interesting things, as well as a few outbuildings like that. My grandfather was very old, in his 90s, when I was a child, too old for him to really keep the house up, so my cousins and siblings and I used to run wild all through this house playing hide and go seek in those shut off rooms and corridors and finding lots of weird and inexplicable objects my grandmother had bought at auction back in the 50s and 60s and piled up high at the house. There were six hundred year old vases mixed in with old record players from the 60s, sewing kits from the 30s and boxes full of letters my great-grandfather had written and little statuettes from India and China and Vietnam sitting atop little two hundred year old painted tables. Just the wildest mix of mundane artifacts from my grandparents' actual lives mixed in with all of these beautiful old objects my grandmother used to collect. I think a lot of Elena's creeping around and hunting through drawers and going down corridors to peer into secret rooms probably stems from that childhood immersed in my grandfather's house, and then all of the time I spent as a teenager helping my mom go through it all and try to make sense of it after he died-- there's probably a weird level of specificity to the names and mechanics of different antique objects and furnitures in FE because I had to learn all about it to help my mom categorize and sell all of those things.

And that kind of takes me to one of the main things I really wanted to write about in this fic-- a detailed and empathetic dive into depression. It's never sat well with me that depression is so often so poorly depicted in media, especially on tv, and that it gets treated like a story arc (tvd season 4 is one of the worst offenders in this regard-- Elena's depression and grief from her brother dying is like a 4 episode arc and it's offensive). I had very severe depression as a teenager, compounded with a lot of grief, and I will probably always be melancholy because some things are just indelible. As a teenager, I was very much so hemmed in by death, and I was very frightened all the time; I was really broken by that experience, and I used to think the loneliness had sunk so deep inside of me that I couldn't even feel lonely anymore, or wish for anyone else. I was probably about 26 before I finally healed from this. These feelings are all probably major reasons why I'm drawn to Elena Gilbert as a protagonist, and why I read her as I do-- I know there are a lot of people who disagree with my interpretation of her, and it's possible that I am so convinced of my character reading of her because I was 20 and still battling in the heart of all of that trauma from my teen years and I felt a resonance with her. So, in writing FE in particularly, and SWBS to a lesser extent, I wanted to write about depression as honestly, openly, and lovingly toward the depressed as I could. I also wanted to write about loneliness, and grief, and what it's like to emerge from those things-- slowly, painfully, with lots of stumbles and hard, hard days. I can recognize that the depictions of depression in FE are ultimately just a reflection of my own personal experience wrestling with it-- but I'm trying to tell an ultimately hopeful story, capable of staring down into the deepest darkness and still clawing its way up into the light. Learning to write honestly about these feelings was hard-- I was so used to protecting myself and pretending that I wasn't something that had once been smashed to pieces that I found myself downplaying the emotions in my writing, being less honest. There came a point there where I realized this story was only ever going to be what I wanted it to be if I did get really honest, as much as possible. I often think of this story as being especially dedicated to the readers who recognize that experience-- and I hope it does, ultimately, read as a story about healing, as dark as it is.

[theclockworkmonk]

Cultural Exchange

Written for @kataang-week

Day 2: Blending Cultures

Words: 2,009

Read on AO3

Read on FF.net

Summary: Katara has some selfish reasons for encouraging Aang to explore Fire Nation culture.

*******

Katara was starting to get worried as she walked up to Zuko's old family house on Ember Island. The outdoor furniture was smashed and splintered, and the door was ajar, hanging off its hinges. She sped up, beginning to panic, and ran up the stairs onto the porch.

She threw the door all the way open forcefully. "Hello!? Aang?"

She was greeted by a chorus of pained male groans.

"Close the door!" Haru wailed, shielding his eyes from the bright morning light that was now flooding the front room of the house. All the other young men, basically every male friend their group had made since leaving the South Pole, gave similar cries of distress from where they were strewn haphazardly across sofas and armchairs.

Katara sighed in relief, but then grew annoyed at the boys for scaring her. Instead of closing the door, she moved to the windows and threw all the curtains open.

"You're evil!" moaned Te'o from the floor, where he had fallen out of his chair.

"What exactly happened to those plans for a laid back, calm bachelor party?" Katara asked the room harshly, "How did it go? 'Oh don't worry, Katara, Zuko's not one to throw wild parties!'"

"Uggghhh, I"m not, but I'm friends with a lot of bad influences," came a weak voice from under a coffee table.

Katara laughed at the sight of the soon-to-be-married Firelord crawling out from under the table, looking like he had been put through a dozen successive Agni Kais. But her laughter died and she gasped when she saw what was on Zuko's head.

"Zuko, what happened!?"

"What does it look like? Your brother got us drunk."

"No, I mean what happened to your hair!"

Katara bent all the water from a nearby vase and froze it into a flat, shiny mirror, and held it up to Zuko's face. His eyes widened in horror and he leapt to his feet, upending the table.

All of his hair had been reduced to a narrow strip down the center of his head. That hair had been left long, and was tied back, but both sides of it had been shaved down to his scalp.

He recognized this look. It was exactly the way Sokka had his hair when Zuko had first encountered him.

"Aw Zuko, I'm touched!" crooned Katara dramatically. "Showing your support for rebuilding Southern Tribe culture by sporting a warrior's wolf tail!"

Zuko stared in disbelief at his reflection. He raised his shaking hands to the sides of his face.

"I look like I stuck my head between two grinding stones," Zuko muttered.

"Oh, don't say that, I'm sure once the Firelord is seen sporting this hairdo at his wedding, it will be all the rage across the Fire Nation," said Katara with a grin.

Zuko buried his face in his hands. "Oh, spirits, the wedding! Mai's going to kill me."

Katara was about to agree, but was interrupted by a scream of anguish and horror coming from the bathroom.

Katara and Zuko both bolted across the room and down the hall. She whipped out her bending pouch, ready to slice the door open, but lucky it was still unlocked. She kicked the door open and her blood froze in fear again as she saw Sokka doubled over, his face buried in the sink and his hands over his head.

"Sokka, what's wrong!?" asked Katara urgently, placing her hands on her brother's back. "Are you hurt—oh…."

She jumped back and gasped when Sokka turned to face her, his lip quivering.

He was completely bald, with a crude painted blue arrow leading from the back of his head, ending between his eyebrows.

Katara's chuckle at Zuko's expense was nothing compared to the explosion of laughter that erupted out of her now. She had to put a hand on the wall to steady herself as she shook until she was out of breath.

"Well, it was just a regular festival of cultural exchange last night, wasn't it?" she squeaked out.

"This isn't funny, Katara!" said Sokka desperately. "You don't understand, it's not coming off! It's real! And my hair! Next time I visit home, my brain is gonna freeze!"

"Oh, calm down," she said dismissively. She grabbed her brother's cheeks and pulled him down to inspect his new body art. "There's no inflammation on the skin, it's not a real tattoo. You just found some...wow, really durable face paint."

She looked him in the eye suspiciously. "Where did you get this stuff?"

"Uuuuhhh," said Sokka uncertainly. He turned to Zuko. "Where did we get this stuff?"

"Uuuuhhh," Zuko concurred.

Katara rolled her eyes. "Seriously? You don't even remember last night?"

"I can remember most of it," said Zuko defensively. "Things just get a little fuzzy after that bottle of moonpeachshine got opened. He was the one who brought that, so really this is all his fault."

"Hey, I don't remember tying you up and forcing the stuff down your throat, Lord Lots o' Shots," replied Sokka.

"Where's Aang?" Katara suddenly said, her grin wiped from her face.

For a moment, they just looked at each other in silence, then ran through the house again.

After searching the whole house and not finding Aang, Katara was beginning to panic again. But when she checked the back garden, she found Appa there sleeping soundly. A lumpy mass was sitting on the bison's head: a human body, the top half covered by a blanket, but long legs protruded from underneath, with blue arrows ending at the feet.

"Aang!" Katara called as she ran towards him, and thankfully the tattooed feet stirred. Aang slowly sat up, squeezing his eyes shut at the sunlight as the blanket fell from his face.

"Oh come on!" Katara sighed in relief. "You too?"

"What?" he mumbled, getting his bearings. He reached up to scratch his head, and discovered what was itching him.

Aang was wearing a wig. Avatar Aang, the mightiest being in the world, was hungover with a lopsided wig of black hair glued to his head. The foreign hair was pulled back into a knot that was contained by what Katara recognized as Avatar Roku's old hairpin.

Aang reached up and felt the hairpin, and winced. "Oh Spirits, I had hoped that was a dream."

"So you actually remember what happened?" asked Zuko, joining them outside along with Sokka, who had put a hat on to avoid getting sunburned.

"Well last night, Sokka got excited by this idea of me wearing Roku's hairpin at the wedding, as a sign of the Fire Nation's commitment to the Avatar and the balance of the world. I wasn't as intoxicated as he was, so I pointed out to him that one needs hair in order to wear a hairpin crown."

"Oh yeah!" said Sokka, remembering now, "Seems like a short sighted fashion decision."

"It's not short-sighted, that's the point," said Zuko irritably, "When royals or generals suffer a great defeat, they cut their hair off. The crowns of the Fire Lord and Prince are designed so that you can't wear them unless you've gone long enough without a defeat to have enough hair to wear it."

"Yeah, you said all this last night," said Aang. "Then Sokka suggested that I could borrow some hair, and we asked who would have extra hair to borrow, and that's how we ended up partying with the—"

"The Ember Island Players," Zuko finished in horror. "Oh, kill me now, this is going to be the subject of their worst play yet."

"I certainly hope so," said Katara. "I'll be there opening night."

"The wig and the facepaint….seemed like a good idea at the time," finished Aang painfully.

"Well if this stuff doesn't come off my face soon, then the Firelord is going to have to have them interrogated about how they undo it," said Sokka.

"Oh I will?" asked Zuko, raising his eyebrow. "The way I see it, I just have a bad haircut, I didn't put any crap on my head, so you can go begging for them on your own."

"It is not a bad haircut!" said Sokka angrily. "You're now the best looking guy here, saving my dignity is the least you can do."

"I might need help getting this thing off me too," mumbled Aang, futilely pulling at the wig. "And we should probably put this back in a safe spot."

He detached Roku's hairpin crown from his knot, and Katara gasped as his hair (that wasn't actually his hair) fell from it.

The messy black hair fell to the base of his neck, covering his ears and hanging in bangs over his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. He scrunched his face in annoyance and brushed the hair away from his face. Katara felt her face grow hot as she watched her boyfriend's fingers run through the hair, and an image floated up in her mind of her fingers replacing them.

Zuko and Sokka went back into the house, Zuko cheekily offering to melt the facepaint off of Sokka, and promised to keep most of his face intact, as Aang climbed down off of Appa, still pulling at the mop glued to his head.

"I need to find a way to get this thing off me," Aang grumbled. "It won't stay out of my face, people can't see my arrow."

"Well, we can't have that," Katara chuckled. "The world can't know that the last airbender has broken such an important air nomad requirement as the sacred chrome dome."

"Well, it's not a requirement," said Aang, "but I still suspect I look far too much like Zuko for my taste—"

"Wait, really?" Katara cut him off, her eyes widening.

"Well you tell me. I don't have a mirror, but I suddenly feel the urge to sulk and reclaim my honor— "No, I mean, shaving your head isn't a requirement or anything?" Katara asked quickly.

Aang seemed surprised by her question. "Uh... no. Most of the boys did anyway, because it gives you a slight edge in airbending, since your skin is in tune with the air currents. We all had to shave it once, when we got our arrows, but most girls grew it back."

He continued to fidget with the wig as he started walking back towards the house, seemingly oblivious to the blush creeping up his girlfriend's face.

Katara tried to act casual as she fell in step with Aang and linked her arm with his.

"Sooooo...hypothetically speaking," she began, not looking at him, "you could have a full head of hair. If you wanted to."

Aang shrugged. "Yeah. But I've never really felt the desire to. With hair, you have to wash it, and there's so many different haircuts to pick from, it's easier to just shave it in the morning."

He turned to look at her curiously. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason!" she said innocently.

They walked in silence for a few seconds, then a strong morning breeze blew past them and Katara felt her knees grow weak as Aang's messy "hair" whipped in the wind, dancing around his handsome face beautifully, in a way his real hair had never grown long enough to do.

"I was just thinking Sokka might be onto something!" she blurted out before she could stop herself. "You know, about wearing Roku's crown. Maybe the Avatar adopting a few Fire Nation fashions will placate a few of the naysayers, who say that you're a foreign interloper. It will show them that you're their Avatar too. It would be a great exchange and blending of cultures, to reflect peaceful cooperation."

Aang frowned thoughtfully. "Well, I….guess that kind of makes sense." He shrugged and chuckled. "I'm still definitely going to get this hair off me, though. Then I can decide whether to start growing my own."

"Hmmm….yeah," Katara whispered greedily under her breath, "I bet that'll look even hotter."

"Hmm? What was that? I didn't hear you."

"Nothing!" she squeaked, and ran back into the house.