#transversal ep

[andyislistening]

artista emergente >>> HELEN

Helen, tanto como solista como con su breve proyecto Helen y Las Gemas, es una artista del gran La Plata (más específicamente de Berisso) que combina una propuesta sonora híbrida de indie pop con baladas, hip hop, bossa y reggaetón junto con una puesta en escena mágica y romántica. Su presencia es como una fusión entre Bjork y Nathy Peluso, una voz etérea y dulce y un estar en el escenario que desborda sensualidad y confianza. Temáticamente sus letras pasan por varios entreveros, como el goce, la conexión con les demás, y su compromiso social aparece en varias denuncias al neoliberalismo. Rítmicamente dinámicas, cada canción combina varios flows, desde lo mas pop, pasando por el RnB y el spoken word, hasta el candombe y el rap.

Si te gustan artistas como Zoe Gotusso, Weste, Perotá Chingó, Aurora o Faye Webster, le daría una escuchada.

Podés escuchar su EP Transversal aquí

Seguila en Instagram y enterate del lanzamiento de su próximo disco, que se viene muy pronto en todas las plataformas.

[milfholder]

assessing skeletal pathologies and injuries of characters is enrichment to me. it is cruel to deprive this lowly paleontologist-archaeologist of that

[nishloves]

gojo satoru as boyfriend!

based on ep 3 of jujutsu kaisen season 2 where he takes care of riko-chan.

masterlist

can't shake the feeling that gojo is the type of boyfriend who will annoy you to the core, bully you (slightly) and would never admit it that he likes to touch you— he would disguise his affections and endearing feelings for you with tugging your hairs, pinching or tickling you. and at the same time he would never let anyone even merely annoy you and ask them to move if you're getting too exasperated.

on the surface he would refuse to do anything for you, but little do you know, everything he does is for you.

you were hungry and wanted that last pizza slice which satoru oh so terribly ate? suddenly, there's a delivery on your door of the same exact pizza coz satoru was hungry and this time he surprisingly ate less?

he would push you towards the street when it's raining because he doesn't want water on his expensive clothes but would be holding your hand and turn on his infinity for all the time it's raining?

would get shocked when you don't respond to his mean remarks with another one of your refutes and immediately apologise and look at your face for any signs of worry/sadness/hurt.

cocky as fuck and would never tone it down, hell if you're dating him he would get even more cocky and flaunt you off because you're just ever so pretty.

suddenly a lot more empathic, won't seem like it but he will prioritise your feelings over his any day, people would wonder how you got him to love you when he's such a narcissist. he's not, but he will definitely pretend as if he is. although, your presence does give him an ego boost.

would never leave you alone and curse himself and blame himself if anything bad ever happens to you. but if you fell on a crowded road by yourself? don't expect him to help you, he will laugh and probably bend over because of how hard he is laughing.

he's not just your boyfriend, he's your annoying friend too.

people think he's the baby of the relationship because of how ignorant, flamboyant and pompous he is, but little do they know it's you, you're the one being spoiled every single day and satoru would spoil you every single day.

he also seems like someone who would forget to call you when he's with friends, or at work and doesn't seem loyal at all. it's a miracle he's dating you for this long.

but if you truly captured his heart, if your relationship was the one which transversed from best friends to lovers hell, he will go to hell before even thinking of anyone else as hot. (although the probability of this is fairly low)

come on, never expect satoru to be loyal until you actually have a deep emotional connection without which everything would feel empty.

[shit-talk-turner]

The italian rolling stone magazine interview is often mentioned here. Does anyone have a link to the translated interview I'd like to read it? //

I'll translate it for you:

They say this singer-songwriter is the new Jane Birkin Her name is Louise Verneuil and right from the stage name she gave herself she references the golden age of French song. She is with Alex Turner of Arctic Monkeys and she, like Birkin, wants to be a "terrible child"

In Paris, at 5b Rue de Verneuil, there is the house where Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin lived during their relationship. The apartment, now owned by Charlotte Gainsbourg, has become a place of worship for lovers of French music. Louise Verneuil, 30, a singer-songwriter of Corsican origins who lives between Paris and London, chose to give herself this pseudonym (she has never publicly revealed her real name) to pay homage to the most famous couple in French music. The choice brought her luck. Journalists from Le Figaro and Grazia FR compared her to Jane Birkin due to her looks and warm voice. “I'm flattered,” she tells Rolling Stone. «I admire her a lot for the fact that she chose love at all costs and for her mentality as a terrible child. She was a muse for Gainsbourg. Soulmates, a great love story with lots of background music."

Louise took her first steps on the stage of The Voice France in 2012, an experience that «taught her to have the courage to say: I want to sing, to make my voice heard». Now, after a few years away from TV and the mainstream, in the lyrics of her songs she talks about "the French way of seeing life, of living love, of loving the passing of time and the happy Parisian melancholy" and some 'bad habits'. In the dark Nicotine she talks about the addiction to cigarettes and the loved one and in Blue Sunday, the most pop piece of the Louise Verneuil EP released in June, she talks about a Sunday morning after a hangover in a mix of English and French, from which wants to break away.

Louise has a transversal musical education which has given rise to her music which is sometimes folk, sometimes psychedelic where the sound of the guitar is always in the foreground. «I was born into a Mediterranean family where music is the dessert at every meal. My mother loved the beautiful music of the 60s and 70s and sang it with me and my sister. Barbara, Françoise Hardy, Serge Gainsbourg, Véronique Sanson. Timeless songs. With dad I discovered rock, England, freedom and the guitar. And then the Beatles, Elvis and David Bowie. I will continue to love these artists all my life and listen to them because they are childhood memories, they are the creators of my first smiles, witnesses of my stories"

England and rock are present not only in music, but also in Verneuil's life. She is in fact engaged to Alex Turner, leader of the Arctic Monkeys, and for this reason she was targeted on Instagram. «I have been making music for 8 years, I don't think I have to justify my path, but, of course, society is very misogynistic and forgets the years of work and considers me only for the bond with my boyfriend, because a girl who writes songs is little stuff. There are also very positive messages and encouragement on social media. I hold on to those."

In January 2020 the first single from the debut LP Lumière Noire will be released, scheduled for spring 2020 and will be accompanied by self-produced videos, as has already been done for Nicotine. «I was influenced in creating these videos by my grandmother and father's old films. I like to find aesthetics and beauty in routine and simple things. If there is a way to express your emotions in any medium, music, concerts, videos or writing, I let myself be carried away. After all, life is so short."

Thanks!

[zaozhaungjinfu]

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[usmaradiomagazine]

Una nuova produzione radiofonica per Radia.fm è ora disponibile! // New radiowork for Radia.fm is out now! ASCOLTA // LISTEN - http://radia.fm IN ONDA // ON AIR - tutta la settimana sul network mondiale di Radia ITA

Usmaradio presenta 𝗡𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗚𝗜𝗔 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗦 a cura di Serena Dibiase

"Nostalgia for the Androgynous" dischiude uno spazio etereo-tellurico per voci e suoni concreti, con droni generativi che creano suoni arcani, registrazioni lo-fi, incantesimi lirici, voci sospese e processate in armonie glossolaliche che si incarnano progressivamente in scenari organici e minerali. Paesaggi sonori occulti fondono percorsi d’ascolto alternativi in una collisione catartica, inquietante e rinfrescante allo stesso tempo, in un’atmosfera di elevazione e intimità, ambigua, nostalgica e viscerale

𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗮 𝗗𝗶𝗯𝗶𝗮𝘀𝗲 è una vocalist sperimentale, artista sonora, performer e poeta. Identifica le sue produzioni artistiche e sonore con il nome androgino Kratu. Porta avanti la sua ricerca artistica partendo da pratiche fisiche e respiratorie intense e attraverso dispositivi analogici e non analogici, per ascoltare geografie foniche radicali, accadimenti corali, interventi su biofonie e geofonie estratte da esplorazioni in spazi abbandonati, selvaggi, industriali, trattando le fonti in modo orizzontale. Collabora come drammaturga sonora e performer con compagnie teatrali indipendenti, ha lavorato per la Biennale Teatro '22-'23 e diffonde la sua ricerca in festival italiani e internazionali. Collabora come consulente artistica in contesti di disagio sociale (carceri, centri di recupero per tossicodipendenti), considerando queste incursioni come parte integrante della sua più ampia ricerca antropo-poetica. Conduce Mouth of the landscape, un laboratorio trasversale di formazione vocale e ascolto. Il suo EP Nostalgia for the Androgynous è stato pubblicato da Oceani Label

ENG

Usmaradio presents 𝗡𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗚𝗜𝗔 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗦 Curated by Serena Dibiase

Nostalgia for the Androgynous unfolds an ethereal-telluric space for voices and concrete sound, generative drones creating arcane sounds, lo-fi recordings, lyrical witchcraft, high-hovering voices, dazed and processed in glossolalic harmonies progressively embodied in organic and mineral scenarios. Occult soundscapes melt alternative listening paths in a cathartic collision, haunting and refreshing at a time, an atmosphere of ascent and intimacy, ambiguous, nostalgic, and visceral

𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗮 𝗗𝗶𝗯𝗶𝗮𝘀𝗲 is an experimental vocalist, sound artist, performer, poet. She identifies her artistic and sound productions with the androgynous name Kratu. She carries out her artistic investigation starting from intense physical/respiratory practices and through analogue and not-analogue devices, to listen to radical phonic geographies, choral happenings, interventions on biophonies and geophonies extracted from explorations in abandoned, wild, industrial spaces, in a horizontal treatment of the sources. She collaborates as a sound dramaturg and performer with independent theatre companies, and also working for Biennale Teatro ’22-’23 and disseminating her research in Italian and international festivals. She collaborates as artistic consultant in contexts of social hardship (jale, community outreach centre for addicts), considering these incursions into her broader spectrum of anthro-poetic research. He has been leading Mouth of the landscape, a transversal vocal training and listening workshop. Her EP Nostalgia for the Androgynous released by Oceani Label

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐑𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐚?

The Radia Network emerged from a series of meetings, clandestine events, late night club discussions, and a lot of email exchanges between cultural radio producers across Europe. It is producing radio stuff that is hard to describe. Some of it can be labelled radio art, or experimental radio, or creative radio. Sometimes it talks, sometimes it doesn’t. It can be noisy, or a kind of soundscape, or a documentary, a document, a talk, a performance. Each and every week, one of the partners will provide the network program, commissioned and produced especially for this purpose: being broadcast by all the partners and made available online. www.radia.fm

[beatloveweb]

Pedro Blázquez incluye en ‘Bandes Sonores Transversals’ ‘Lo-fi’ de la mano de Burdeos en nuestro EP de remixes.

[indefinite-pitch]

V/A - Destinations. Log 2

Tracklist

01 AXOON - Oktant der Sphäre

02 Reign. - Transit

03 Boudhicca - Labyrinth

04 Yóhan - Somnographic Affair

05 Nils Edte & Magnus Lindgren - Tilia's Tribe

06 Kontinum - Distorted Perception

07 Geert - Spazer

08 Miùson - Surreality

09 BLNDFLD - Berika

10 Tsott - Simshvide

11 BLNDFLD & Tsott - Bochi *

Credits

This digital release is cut from the 24bit Master Source.

'Oktant der Sphäre' produced by Dandy Studt 'Transit' produced by Robert Bothmann Originally released on 'Destinations. EP 5' ‘Labyrinth’ produced by Seohyun Lee 'Somnographic Affair' produced by Wonyoung Noh Originally released on 'Destinations. EP 6' ‘Tilia's Tribe’ produced by Nils Edte feat. Magnus Lindgren Transverse flute on ‘Tilia’s Tribe’ by Magnus Lindgren
 'Distorted Perception' produced by Jonas Wernicke Originally released on 'Destinations. EP 7' ‘Spazer’ produced by Geert Ben
 'Surreality' produced by Romeo Sgroi Originally released on 'Destinations. EP 8' ‘Berika’ produced by Gurami Garibashvili aka BLNDFLD 'Simshvide' produced by Tsotne Mamatsashvili aka Tsott 'Bochi' produced by Gurami Garibashvili and Tsotne Mamatsashvili * * Bandcamp exclusive hidden bonus track Originally released on 'Destinations. EP 9' Mastered by J. David Lucio S. Artwork by Mark Wagner Destinations. Log 2 This is PITCHVA04.

[feralthoughtdump]

Arsonist’s Lullaby

Part One: Kiss With A Fist

Part Two: Only Angel

Bucky and his Angel’s relationship grow closer. 

Word Count: 6.8K

CW: violence, Bucky and his nightmares, John Walker being an ass, a little bit of fluff, smut, brief shower sex, Bucky steps on the reader with his boots, spitting, choking, spanking, Bucky using his metal arm, crying, FATWS ep. 3&4 spoilers

The cold air of the cargo container was strange, given that they were in a southeast Asian island. It sent a chill down Angel’s spine. Like something would go very wrong. They survey the empty space, searching for Nagel.

Sharon was certain Nagel was here, but there was no sight of him.

But Angel could hear the slight vibrations of music coming from… somewhere. 

She approaches the back of the container and feels around the rough metal wall. 

“Hey, I think he may be in here.” She beckons them over. 

Pressing a gloved hand onto the metal, she pushed, revealing a small laboratory in front of them. 

“You three go ahead.” She mutters. “I’ll keep an eye out with Sharon.”

Before they can say anything, she strides out of the container.

“You don’t need to worry about them.” Sharon crosses her arms as the door closes. “I know them well. They can hold their own.” 

“Oh, I know.” Angel chuckles. 

“Bucky likes to call you Angel, huh. Seems like you two bonded pretty quickly.”

She gives Sharon a humored look as they stroll around the dock.

“I thought psychopaths couldn’t form bonds.”

“You know I didn’t mean it.”

Their eyes dart all over the place, looking for any oncoming bounty hunters. 

“How’d you get my photo anyways?” 

“Heavy analysis of CCTV footage, a few phone calls, and a lot of digging. The photo was shit quality, but it was enough for me to go off of.”

“Was it enough to catch me?”

“I guess so. Then Zemo blew up the UN so we tabled the case.”

“Interesting. Maybe that UN bombing was a blessing in disguise. Saved me a life sentence in a high-security prison.”

They turned a corner.

“You wouldn’t have gone to jail. MI6 would’ve given you a job instead.” 

“Hmph. I’d rather die than be a servant.”

From the corner of her eye, Angel spots a passing black shadow. 

“Guys,” she presses a finger onto her earpiece. “Someone’s here.” 

A gunshot rings out from the container and the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Sharon gives her a knowing look and they turn the safety off of their guns. 

“Here.” Angel whispers, handing Sharon a knife. “It’ll come in handy.” 

Three bounty hunters transverse on them and they open fire, taking them down one by one. 

“We don’t have much time, hurry up!” Sharon yells into the earpiece. 

A bounty hunter wraps their arms around Angel and she grabs a knife, jamming it into their arm. 

Adrenaline floods her system, dialing her senses up to ten. A swift roundhouse kick sends another hunter tumbling to the ground. 

From behind her, she hears Sam and Bucky yelling and she runs towards them. 

“It’s in every action movie!” She hears Sam yell.

If her life wasn’t on the line, she would’ve laughed. 

“You okay?” She pants.

“No! We’re not!” Sam yells. “Zemo shot Nagel!”

“What? Where is he?”

Her question was answered when a container set fire and exploded. She spots Zemo standing atop another, donning a purple mask. Before she can point him out, he sprints away. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” 

Gunshots ring from her right and Bucky wraps a protective arm around her. In her peripheral she sees a bounty hunter riding towards her on a motorcycle, guns blazing. She quickly wriggles out of Bucky’s grasp and sends a knife into the tire, throwing the hunter off of the vehicle and into the fire. 

“Good aim.” He says, mouth agape in surprise.

“You just threw that dude into a fire!” Sam exclaims.

“Yeah, well, he was going to kill us.” 

 They continue to run through the maze of crates, turning corner after corner, dodging bullet after bullet.

As much as he hates to admit it, the sight of Angel in action, when her violence wasn’t directed towards him, sends a rush through his system. 

Zemo speeds towards them in a convertible, signaling them to get in. Sam jumps in the passenger seat while Bucky and Angel sit in the back. 

Her pupils are blown wide and Bucky swears he can feel the electricity radiating off of her. Without stopping to calm down, he grabs her face in his hand and presses a passionate kiss on her lips.

His heart skips a beat when she kisses him back, and in the corner of his eye, he spots Sharon giving either him or Angel, a thumbs up.

… 

Bucky makes it a habit to call her Angel all the time. He likes the way it slips off his tongue. He likes the way her eyes seem to glimmer when he calls her that. It’s as if the more he calls her Angel, she seems to glow more and more. 

He calls her Angel when they board the jet on the way to Latvia.

He calls her Angel when she sits down to change the gauze on her thigh.

He calls her Angel when they get to the Riga safe house. 

The more time he spends with her, the more he notices the little things about her. He notices how her tongue sticks out a little when she does her eye makeup.

He notices how her head would bop along to music in her earbuds

He notices how she’ll curl up on the couch, tucking her knees close to her body, while she sketches.

He notices how she’ll mutter curses in different languages. Mandarin, French, Russian, Spanish just to name a few. 

He notices how she took off her jewelry when she showers with the exception of a gold chain. A gold chain with a dangling pendant. A pendant of a little angel.

He notices how she uses apple cinnamon body wash. It made her smell warm. It made her smell like home. 

She gets along with Sam. Even Zemo. 

She talks about philosophy with Zemo and when she converses with Sam, they talk about music.

She’s a force to be reckoned with. Fiery. Just like Selby had said. A firebird. 

And despite her cool, hardened front, there was a gentleness to her.

The jet had touched down in Latvia late and night and they collectively decided to get a good night’s rest before finding Karli. 

He had woken up from a nightmare. Reliving the memory of killing Yori’s son. 

He didn’t know what compelled him to do it, but he padded over to Angel, reading Anna Karenina. Glasses perched on her nose, hair loose and resting past her shoulders. 

She looks up at him.

“Nightmare?”

Bucky nods, tears pricking are his eyes.

She places the book on the floor and stretches out on the couch.

“Come here.” She whispers arms open wider

She let him lay his head on her chest, nose pressed against her sternum. With gentle hands, she runs her fingers through his hair, slowing his rapid heartbeat. 

The serum had made his hearing sharper and from his position between her breasts, he could hear the soft thumping of her heart. It calmed him. 

“Can you sing to me?” He mumbles.

The hand playing with his hair stops.

“Sing to you?” She asks.

“Mhm.”

“I-“ she pauses “I don’t really-“

“Please.” He begs. 

She’s quiet, just calmly stroking his hair, then she sighs.

“What do you want me to sing?”

“Anything. Just… please, I want you to sing for me.”

She ponders for a moment before she parts her lips, voice shaky and quiet. 

When I was a child, I heard voices

Some would sing and some would scream

You soon find you have few choices

I learned the voices died with me

He closes his eyes and noses at her sternum. 

When I was a child, I'd sit for hours

Staring into open flame

Something in it had a power

Could barely tear my eyes away

The song is unfamiliar. He didn’t listen to music all that much anymore. And even when he listens to music, it was mostly from the 40s.

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach 

Don't you ever tame your demons

But always keep 'em on a leash

Her voice, still soft and quiet, is haunting. The way it wraps around the lyrics, warms his heart. He breathes in the smell of her apple cinnamon body wash. 

When I was 16, my senses fooled me

Thought gasoline was on my clothes

I knew that something would always rule me

I knew the scent was mine alone

He loves the way he can feel her chest move up and down. The way her voice sounds so rich with his ear pressed against her chest, the music echoing within her ribs.

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach

Don't you ever tame your demons 

But always keep 'em on a leash

He reaches his hand to play with the angel pendant on her necklace. Finger running over the grooves. 

When I was a man I thought it ended

When I knew love's perfect ache

But my peace has always depended

On all the ashes in my wake

As he drifts off to sleep, he can hear the last lines of the song lingering on her lips. The images from war. The torture he endured, the people he’s killed, the amends he has yet to make, all temporarily fade from his mind. 

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach

Don't you ever tame your demons

But always keep 'em on a leash

And for the first time since Steve left, Bucky was able to sleep without disturbance.

… 

“You have a lovely voice.” 

Angel was pulled from her sleep when she hears Zemo’s voice. 

She glares at him and places a finger on her lips, shushing him. Bucky was still lying on top of her, still asleep and she didn’t want to wake him. 

“My apologies.” He smiles. 

“Were you watching us last night?” She interrogates quietly. 

“No, but I do have a keen sense of hearing. I heard you singing to James.” 

She turns her head to meet his eyes. 

“He had a nightmare. It was the least I could do for him.” 

“Understandable.” He nods. “My son used to have nightmares and my wife’s voice was the only thing that could put him to sleep.” 

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles sympathetically. “About your family, I mean. I know you lost them a while ago.” 

Her hand combs through Bucky’s hair. 

“I understand how vengeance and anger overtook you. You needed your revenge. But don’t hurt him.”

“Hurt who? James?”

“Yes.” Her voice darkens. “If you lay a finger on him, I won’t hesitate to bury you.”

Zemo sighs. 

“I have no intention of harming him. I see the way you look at him. It’s the same look I used to give my wife. You care for him dearly and given your line of work, I know you’d do anything to avenge the people who harm the ones you love.” He walks towards her and offers her a cookie. Angel takes it with a wary hand. 

“You’ve got anything else you want to say?”

“I do have a question about that song. I knew that something would always rule me.” He quotes. “Was that about yourself, or James?” 

She narrows her eyes. 

“It was just a song.” 

“Yet it implies that something will always have power, control, over the songwriter.” He tilts his head. 

“What are you implying, Baron?”

“It’s not an implication. It’s an observation. You two share a common trait. For James, it’s his past. His time as the Winter Soldier looms over him. As for you, you seem to have this, how do I say it, a compulsion to kill. It will always stick to you.”

“Baron, I suggest you pick your next words very carefully.” 

Bucky stirs and she lifts her hand from his head.

“Mmm. Good morning.” He mumbles, voice rough and heavy. 

“Good morning to you too sleepyhead.” She coos, rubbing his cheek with her thumb. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm.” He hums.

She gives Zemo a look that says ‘get out.’

Zemo gives her a smirk and walks away, leaving the two of them alone.

Bucky opens his eyes and Angel can feel her heart melt. He balances himself on his arm to press a kiss to her nose.

“You look cute with bed head.” He chuckles. “So pretty. I could just eat you up.” 

“You look quite pretty when you sleep.” She giggles and rubs her nose against his. 

He places his head back on her chest and they lie there for a while, listening to the sounds of the city. 

Finally, she sighs. 

“Alright, Bucky, I’m gonna go take a shower.”

He whines and wraps his arms around her.

“No, stay.”

“Bucky,” she says sternly, “I have to wash my hair, let go.”

With a huff, he sits up and lets her get off of the couch. As she stands she turns around spotting Bucky, arms crossed and a pout on his face. 

“I never said you couldn’t join.” 

Bucky jumps up and runs to her. He places his hands on her waist and turns her around, pressing a kiss to her lips. She links her fingers with his and he follows behind her towards the bathroom. 

While they wait for the water to heat up, she reaches into her bag to pull out bottles of product. 

He spots the shimmering bottle of apple cinnamon body wash and smiles. 

“Apple cinnamon body wash.” He notes.

“Mhm. It's inexpensive but it smells nice.”

“It does.” 

She places her hand under the stream of water and gets a feel for the temperature. The water is hot, just how she likes it. Her hands pull the t-shirt over her head and then her cotton underwear. 

Bucky waits for her to step into the shower before he strips down and joins her. 

A content smile crosses her face when the hot water hits her body but her peace is broken when she hears Bucky yelp. 

“Why is the water so hot?” 

“I like it hot.” She turns to face him and playfully pokes at his navel. “It’s relaxing.”

“You’re going to boil me alive.” He grumbles. 

“If you don’t like the hot water,” She bluntly states, “then get out.” 

She shampoos her hair, letting the bubbles froth around her fingers, and then she pours a bit into her hand and reaches up to massage it into Bucky’s hair. 

He runs a metal finger down her sternum, collecting a bit of the bubbles that run down her body. When his finger reaches her scar, his touch lingers. 

Seeing the guilt in his eyes, Angel places a finger underneath his chin and has him look into her eyes instead.

“Don’t.” She murmurs. “You’ll only torture yourself reminiscing on the past.” She pulls him under the stream, letting the water wash away the shampoo in their hair. 

She’s got a meticulous shower routine, one that she likes to perform herself, yet she’s okay with Bucky standing next to her. When she combs the conditioner through her hair, she does the same for Bucky, knowing it would soften his hair even more and make it smell like vanilla and pomegranate. 

She places a bit of the apple cinnamon body wash in her hands and rubs it onto his body. Her hands pay extra attention to the scar on his shoulder. 

“It’s got vitamin E in it. Helps with scars.” 

Bucky turns her around, making her face away from him.

She can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but she hums with relaxation when she feels his strong hands rub the body wash into her skin.

“You’ve got some knots in your shoulders.” He notes.

“I’m aware of that.”

“You’re stressed.”

“I am.” 

When the water washes away the body wash, the shower is filled with the scent of apple cinnamon. 

She’s surprised when she feels a kiss on the back of her shoulder but nevertheless, she enjoys it.

Bucky presses another kiss in the center of her shoulders and kisses her along the line of her back. He sinks to his knees and places a kiss onto the dimples of her back. 

“Buck, what are you doing?” She smirks, turning around. 

“I just wanna love on you.” He murmurs against her skin. “Can I?”

She blinks owlishly, then slowly nods her head. 

“Y-yeah” she breathes. 

Bucky places a kiss on her scar and runs his tongue over it, sending a fire through her. 

“Open your legs for me, doll.” 

She shyly parts her legs and Bucky smiles up at her.

He grabs her waist,  hoisting her knees over his shoulders, pressing her back against the wall. 

She lets out gaspy whines when he kisses and nips at her thighs, letting his stubble rub against the sensitive skin.

“Bucky,” she whimpers “we- we’re going to waste water.”

“Don’t worry about that, doll.” He murmurs. “Just let me make you feel good.” 

He licks a stripe up her folds, causing her to gasp. She grabs onto his hair, pulling him closer. 

“So sweet, baby. You taste so sweet.” 

She doesn’t reply. She couldn’t. Not when he was making her feel so good. 

She slaps her other hand onto the wall, trying to hold herself up. Bucky tightens his grip on her and leans in closer, continuously licking into her, making her head spin. 

She tries to say something, tell him she’s close, tell him she’s going to cum quicker than she thought, but the only sounds that leave her mouth are breathy moans. 

When he pulls away, she whines. He gives her a cocky grin. 

“Wanna cum?”

She vigorously nods her head. 

“That’s a shame.” He lets go of her legs, almost dropping her onto the tile, and wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady. “We’ve got a big day ahead.” His tone is teasing, almost mean. “I’ll let you cum later.” 

She’s left on the edge, and she’s angry. No, not angry. Frustrated. Frustrated and desperate. 

“You’re mean.” She grumbles, shutting off the water. 

“If you give me attitude, I won’t let you cum at all.” He chuckles. 

She pushes him away and wraps a towel around her body. 

“I don’t need you to cum anyways.” She grumbles under her breath. 

As she walks away, he grabs her by the back of her neck and pulls her into his chest.

“If I were you,” He lowers his lips to her ear, “I’d behave. Now,” he releases his grip and gives her ass a smack. “Get dressed, we’ve got a lot to do today.” 

She digs through her duffel to find a simple red jumpsuit. The neckline is low enough to be teasing, but it had enough support and pockets to be practical. 

“Sounds like someone had a good morning.”

She turns around, a big grin stretching across her face when she sees Sam. 

“Sam! Good morning!” She cheers. 

“No need to good morning me when I woke up to the sound of fucking.” he grumbles, annoyance in his voice. 

She chuckles as she buttons the front of her jumpsuit. 

“So, Bucky tells me we have a lot going on today. What’s on the itinerary?”

“Hopefully, we can track down Karli and convince her to stop. At least that’s my plan.” 

“Sounds good.” 

He grabs his jacket from the chair. “I’m headed out to get something to eat. Do you want anything?” 

“I’m okay.” She smiles at him. “Thanks for asking.” 

Sam reaches the door and turns around. 

“One more thing, you’ve got a great voice.”

“Was I that loud or did no one sleep at all last night?”

Sam chuckles. 

“I think after the past few days, it’s hard for anyone to get a good night's sleep.” He looks down, fiddling with his fingers. “What you did… what you did for Bucky in Madripoor, when we were undercover…”

“What did I do?” She asks curiously. 

“When Zemo had him go all Winter Soldier, you fought alongside him, you got to that first guy before Bucky did.”

Angel is quiet. She says nothing, looking down at her hands and picking at her cuticles. 

“He might not say this to your face, but I’ve been around him long enough to know that he’s thankful. And so am I.”

She doesn’t know what to say. What would she even say?

“I can see now why he likes calling you Angel.” 

With that, the door closes. 

She walks over to the kitchen, looking through the cabinets. The shelves were fairly empty, mostly just tins of cookies and candy, and a box of cherry blossom tea. She huffs in frustration when her fingers brush over the tin of candy, barely moving it. 

“Need some help, doll?” 

Bucky grabs the tin and places it on the counter.

Her frustration is reignited at the sight of him in a tight, black t-shirt. She wants him to bend her over, fuck her until she sobs.

But she knows he won’t give her that.

Before she can grab it, Bucky holds it above his head. 

“You’re evil.” She mutters. “Come on, give me it.”

“Nope!” He smirks. 

“Go fu-“

She yelps when Bucky loops his thumb through the belt loop of her jumpsuit and pulls her close to him. 

“Remember what I told you? Watch your language.” 

“Give me the candy or you’re not getting head for a week.”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he hands her the box. 

“Thank you.” 

She presses a kiss to his nose and walks away with the box. 

She knows what Bucky’s doing. He’s riling her up, teasing her. 

But two can play that game. 

She sits up on the counter and opens the tin. 

Turkish Delight. Candy she used to eat as a child. 

He’s staring at her. She can feel it. Her fingers pluck a candy from the box and hold it up. 

“Want one?”

Bucky walks over to her and wedges himself between her thighs. 

“Sure.” 

She unwraps the candy and places a finger on his chin, beckoning him to open his mouth.

Her fingers place the treat on his tongue.

“Sweet, isn’t it?”

He kisses her and she can taste the sugar on his lips. 

“Almost as sweet as you.”

She grabs another and hops off of the counter, humored by Bucky’s frustrated look. 

“Sam probably wants everyone ready by the time he gets back. So, I don’t know.” She eyes him up and down, ready to drool at the sight of his arms. “Get dressed.”

“Oh doll, I’m already dressed.” He chuckles. 

“Good. Then help me out.” Her fingers deftly unbutton the top of her jumpsuit, exposing her black sports bra. She reaches for her harness and shoves it in Bucky’s hands. “Buckle me in.”

… 

Sex was the last thing on her mind when she’s face to face with the new Captain America. 

“Karli Morganthau is too dangerous for you to be pulling this shit.” He yells. 

Angel rolls her eyes at the sight of John Walker. 

“How’d you find us now?” Bucky replies, voice full of annoyance.

“You think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” 

Angel’s seen his face in the news. Lemar, the better of America’s new dynamic duo. 

“No more keeping us in the dark, and you can tell us why you broke him” John points to Zemo “out of prison.”

“He did that himself, technically.” Bucky answers. 

“That is an unbelievable explanation! And who the hell are you?” He points to Angel. 

“I’m a friend.” She grumbles, eyes narrowed. 

“You have no business being here. And whatever you’re wearing, all you’re going to do is draw attention.”

“And your little Mr. America getup isn’t?”

“Why don’t you go back to working in European intelligence or whatever it is you do.”

“You better watch your mouth, Mr. Walker.” She snarls. “Is that really how you speak to a lady?” 

“I know where Karli is.” Zemo interrupts their feud.

“Well, where?” 

“All we know is,” Sam answers, “It’s a memorial. We’ll intercept her there.” 

“That means civilians, high risk of casualties.” Lemar states.

“Alright good.” John schemes. “We’ll move in fast, take her by surprise.” 

“Not a good idea, John.” Angel retorts. He halts in his steps and turns to her.

“You have no clue what you’re getting yourself into. This is an American situation.” 

She leans in until she’s staring into his eyes. Rage broils inside of her. 

“Let me tell you something John, I don’t care about your medals of honor. I don’t care that you’re wearing that red and blue suit. So I’ll tell you this once, and only once. If you dare speak to me like this again, I won’t hesitate to-“ 

Bucky pulls her back, giving her a stern look. 

“Hey,” he rubs her shoulder, trying to settle her anger. “He’s not worth it.”

“Oh, so she’s your little girlfriend huh?” 

Angel presses the tip of her knife against his chin and backs him into a wall.

“You stay out of Bucky’s business.” She seethes. 

“Hey, hey, hey!”

This time, both Sam and Bucky had to pull her away, but she keeps her murderous glare trained on him.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes. Keep your little psycho under control.” John spits. 

“Hey, don’t speak to her like that,” Sam demands. “Just because you don’t know her doesn’t give you an excuse to be rude.” 

“Either you show her some respect,” Bucky says “or all of the help we have to offer is off of the table.” 

Sam nods in agreement and eventually so does Zemo, who adds a small shrug. 

“I wasn't actually going to kill him.” She mutters under her breath.

“We know.” Sam pulls her into a side hug. He directs his words back to John. “I want to talk to her alone.”

“I’m not losing her again.” 

“Look, the person closest to her died. She’s vulnerable. If there’s any time to reason with her, it’s now.” 

“What?” John halts in his steps. “No, wait stop. We are way past reasoning with her.” 

“Sam,” Lemar states. “If you walk in there cold, you could die.”

“But if you walk in guns blazing, you could have the blood of hundreds of civilians on your hands.” Angel folds her arms. “Besides, if things go wrong, I’m trained in mixed martial arts.”

“You think a black belt will save you from  a super-soldier?” 

Angel snorts. 

“It has before.”

Bucky looks down and stifles a laugh. 

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay?” Sam argues with John. “This is in my wheelhouse.”

They’re all silent, staring daggers at each other. 

“John,” Lemar breaks the silence “If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.” He gives Angel a kind smile. “And I think we give this girl a chance to show us what she’s got.”

“Thank you.” She smiles back. 

“I’m sure this can all come to an agreeable conclusion.” Zemo points forward. “My associate is just up ahead.” 

They watch as Zemo approaches a young girl, handing her some money. She beckons them to follow her down a cobblestone path, into a building, and through the boiler room. 

“You’ve got ten minutes,” John states while handcuffing Zemo to a pipe. “Then we’re doing things my way.”

While they wait, Angel spends her time playing with her butterfly knife, spinning the handle around her fingers.

“How do you not cut yourself doing that?” Lemar asks. 

She spins the knife closed. 

“I have before, it’s just about practice and being careful. Here, I’ll show you.” 

Bucky observes Angel showing off her knife tricks to Lemar. 

Despite the stressful situation, he still felt a pang of possessiveness. She was his Angel. He gave her that name and when she said she’d accepted it. In a way, she was his and he was hers. 

“What’s your name? I don’t think you’ve ever told me.” 

He hears Lemar ask.

Angel giggles.

“It’s Artemis. Like the goddess.”

Artemis. It’s fitting, Bucky thinks. The goddess of the hunt.

“That’s really cool. Let me guess, your parents were huge mythology fans?”

“You can say that.” She chuckles.

His eyes narrow when she smiles at Lemar. 

Their conversation continues and Bucky’s jealousy burns brighter when she places her fingers on the fabric of Lemar’s suit, giving him a comment on how she’s got an eye for fashion and how nice the fabric was. From his position by the door, he sees her turn to him and give him a wink. 

Bucky scowls. That little minx.

John crosses his arms and stares daggers into her.

“What exactly do you do, anyway?” He scoffs. “Are you some kind of spy?”

Angel raises a brow. 

“I’m not a spy. I’m just a problem solver.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” John shakes his head and secures the shield on his arm. “Nevermind. I’m going in.” 

“Oh, come on John, it’s only been eight minutes.” 

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.” 

“I’m not-” Angel sighs and turns away, focusing her attention on pulling her hair back.

Bucky stops him before John can get through the doorway. 

“It must be so easy for you.” John’s voice is full of malice. “All that serum running through your veins. Barnes, your partner needs backup. Do you really want his blood on your hands?” 

Bucky can see Angel slowly shake her head, telling him not to give in to John’s words. But he can’t. He’s already done so much harm. He’s responsible for the deaths of so many people, he can’t let Sam become another. 

So, he lets John walk past him, Lemar following along. 

Angel runs up to him. 

“Bucky, why’d you do that?” 

“I can’t… I can’t risk it. I can’t risk losing him.” 

She sighs and places a gentle hand on his cheek. 

“I understand.” Her lips land a gentle kiss on his nose. “But don’t let his words get to you. Now,” She grins and lightly smacks his ass. “Go make sure he doesn’t kill anyone.” 

With one final kiss, Bucky runs off. 

She turns around to see the handcuffs dangling from the pole. Her blood runs cold. Zemo escaped and who knows what he’ll do.

She runs through the halls, boots quietly slapping on the concrete floors. From her left, she hears a series of loud gunshots and crunching glass. 

Her feet lightly tread next to the walls, ears picking up every little sound. 

She jumps, heartbeat pounding when the thump of a body falling to the ground meets her ears. 

Did Zemo kill someone? Was it Karli? Another Flag-Smasher? 

She runs through the door closest to her. From behind a table, she spots John staring at a small vial. A small vial of the serum. Before she can say anything, he runs away. 

As she quietly walks into the room, she spots Zemo, lying on the ground, unconscious. No one else was here. 

She crouches down next to him and gently shakes his shoulder. 

“Baron? Zemo? Come on, wake up.” 

He doesn’t move. 

She picks up his wrist, pressing her pointer and middle fingers on the vein. A sigh of relief passes her lips at the feeling of a pulse. 

Her hands shake his shoulder again, this time, with more vigor. 

“Zemo!” She shouts.

His eyes snap open and he groans in pain. 

“You passed out Baron.”

“I’m aware.” He grumbles. “John Walker threw the shield at me.” 

“Of course he did.”

She offers him a hand and helps him stand up. 

“Can you walk?” She asks. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”

The two make their way through the city until they reach Zemo’s apartment. Sam was already there, typing away on his computer. 

Angel wets a towel in the kitchen and hands it to Zemo.

“Go, lie down. Put this over your eyes.” 

She walks down the hall towards Bucky’s room. With a tired sigh, she removes her shoes, jumpsuit, and harness.

Her eyes close as she lies on the bed in her underwear. The sports bra felt much too tight but she didn’t care. She was tired. Her morning sexual frustration had caught up to her but she didn’t feel like doing anything about it.

Even though it was only seven in the evening, she just wanted to sleep.

Right when she’s drifting off to sleep, the slam of the bedroom door jolts her awake. 

Bucky is standing in front of her, arms crossed, eyes filled with rage.

“Get off the bed.” He snarls. 

She laughs and rolls over onto her stomach. 

“No. If sex is what you want, let’s do it on the bed.”

She hears a sigh behind her and her eyes widen when she feels Bucky’s hands wrap around her ankles. 

“Buck, what are you-”

Her words come to a halt when he pulls her off of the bed and onto her knees. 

“You wanted me to fuck you?” He seethes. “Fuck you rough until you can’t speak?”

“That was the plan.” She smirks. 

He twists a hand in her hair and pulls her head back. Her breath is shallow as she looks up, meeting Bucky’s angry eyes. 

He’s mad. At the entire Karli situation, and maybe with her. But his anger towards her, she assumes, is fiery, lustful anger. Anger that she can have a lot of fun with. 

“If you had let me cum earlier,” She snaps, “ maybe I wouldn’t have been such a brat.”

She rubs her thighs together, trying to alleviate the arousal burning through her. A whine leaves her lips when he kicks her legs apart. 

He tightens his grip on her hair.

“You really need to learn some respect.”

Bucky places the toe of his boot on her back and pushes her face down onto the floor. She doesn’t resist, giving in to his dominance. 

“Aww, look at you,” he mocks, “You were so bold earlier, my Angel. Where did that fire go?”

Her heart swells. He’s no longer calling her Angel. He’s called her his Angel. She was his. 

Footsteps echo around her and she takes a shaky breath when his black boots come into view. 

“Look at me, doll. I wanna see those pretty eyes.”

His voice is commanding, authoritative. It drew her in, made her head spin.

She looks up at him with wide eyes as he bends down on a knee.

“Were you trying to rile me up? Trying to make me angry?” 

She nods.

Bucky roughly grabs her chin, cold metal digging into her cheeks.

“Use your words.”

“Y-yes Sergeant.” She squeaks.

He stares down at her, anger and lust in his eyes. 

“Open your mouth.” 

Her lips part and Bucky spits, letting his saliva pool on her tongue. 

His fingers press on her chin, closing her mouth. She swallows, heat burning in her tummy. 

“So now, you want to be a good girl, huh?” 

He picks her up by her neck and shoves her face into the soft mattress. His fingers loop around the elastic waistband of her panties and pull, the fabric digging into her cunt. 

“Yes, I’m your good girl.” She whines. “I’ll be good. Promise.” 

He leans in close, his warm breath brushing over her ear. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

He rears his metal hand against her ass, leaving a red handprint of her skin. 

A choked breath leaves her lips. She relishes in the pain and gives him a cocky smile.

“Is that all you got Sarge?” 

He lands another hard smack, this time on her thigh. A whimper escapes her lips.

“Oh, you’re really asking for it, aren’t you?” 

He shifts his hand on her neck, wrapping it around the front of her neck. She squeezes at the sides, slowing the circulation of blood to her head. 

She opens her mouth to speak, but the hand on her throat stops the words from leaving her lips. 

The clinking of his belt buckle sends a wave of lust through her. 

She was finally getting what she wanted.

His hand on her neck is released and she takes in a sharp breath.  

He pulls her panties down her legs and throws them to the side. 

She gasps at the feeling of cold metal rubbing between her folds. Her fingers dig into the sheets, grabbing at the fabric. 

“You’re practically dripping.” He muses, “Who knew you were such a masochist?” 

“Only for you.” She keens. 

“Only for me? Not for anyone else?”

“Yes! Yes! Only you!”

Bucky hums and lands another smack on her ass. She yelps and tears threaten to spill from her eyes. 

He shoves two fingers inside of her and she gasps at the cool feeling of the metal. 

She squirms around as he twists his fingers, pressing against that spot inside of her.

Hunger swarms her brain. She wanted, no, needed more. 

What he’s doing is sadistic, she thinks. Constantly bringing her to the edge, but never letting her tip over. 

He lets his thumb press against her clit and the tears she’s been trying to hold back spill over. She lets out a quiet sob into the sheets but Bucky doesn’t stop his movements. 

“I need more.” She quietly whimpers. 

“You think you have the right to beg?” He asks nonchalantly. “After that little show?” 

“I’m sorry.” She cries. 

Her eyes squeeze shut and she turns her head, letting her cheek rest on the bedsheets. When she glances up, she can see Bucky’s amused smirk. 

She feels the tip of his cock pressing against her entrance and she holds her breath. 

“Oh doll,” he coos, thumbing away her tears, “You’re so pretty when you cry.” 

A sudden thrust of his hips buries his cock inside of her. Bucky clamps his hand over her lips, muffling her desperate cries. 

“Shh, shh,” He whispers gently. “It’s okay, love. Be a good girl and take it.” 

He starts moving, his hips slowly thrusting into her. The fire inside of her burns, hotter and hotter. Her head is reeling as she feels herself come closer to her impending orgasm. Despite how rough he is with her, she feels safe. Safe with him. She feels safe enough to fall into submission, open and pliant for him. 

Her sobs against his hand become louder, more intense and he bends down to nip at her neck.

“Are you gonna cum, angel? Cum all over my cock?” 

She nods, eyes squeezed shut. 

“Do you think you deserve it?” He asks.

“No,” she mumbles against his hand. “But I want to.”

He brushes his fingers down the length of her back and she shivers. 

“You wanna cum, doll? Ask nicely.” 

He releases his hand and grabs her hip, pulling her deeper onto his cock. 

“Please.” She gasps. “Please, let me cum!” 

“You have to do better than that.”

“Please, I’ll be so good for you! I’ll never flirt with anyone again! Just please! Please, I wanna cum.” 

He picks up his pace, and she finds it harder to stave off her orgasm. 

“So polite.” He hums, “But not yet.”

She lets out a pathetic sob.

“Please.” She whimpers. 

“Be patient. You’ll get to cum soon.” 

Her breaths are shallow as she tries to keep herself from cumming. She bites down on her lower lip but the pain does little to help.

Relief washes over her when Bucky speaks again.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me. Come on angel, cum for me.” 

Her teeth bite down on the sheets as she’s hurtles over the edge, her orgasm sending shockwaves through her body. 

As her chest heaves and her mind becomes foggy, she can barely feel Bucky pull out and releases him cum on her back. 

She lies there, upper half sprawled over the mattress, a dopey smile on her face. A hum of pleasure slips past her lips when Bucky wipes his cum away with a warm washcloth. 

“You okay, doll?” He asks. 

She nods her head. 

The bed shifts as he sits on the bed and pulls her towards him. 

“Come on,” He lies down and pulls her close to him. He noses at the back of her shoulder. “Get some rest.” 

The sun was about to set, bathing their bodies in a golden glow. He runs his metal fingers over her bicep, cooling down her heated skin. 

She’s tired, so tired. Yet she’s happy. The first time in a long time that she’s actually felt happy. 

“Bucky?” She asks in a fucked out daze.

“Yes my angel?” 

A moment of silence passes. 

“You’re the only one who’s made me feel human.”

...

Once again, tysm @sojournmichael for reading over my little snippets of writing!

[chasbook]

2019

Visuel et logotype pour le premier EP de TransVersal

Créations typographique et plastique à l’aquarelle + quelques recherches

[beatasticband]

Shoegaze project of diy artist George Simpson, (Nossiennes, On Autopilot) transversing influences of post-rock, classical minimalism and IDM. Introspective spirals made with simulated beats, pitch shifted vocals, and pedal-treated guitar/piano created over the last lockdown.

[tatarocha]

Tata Chama e as Inflamáveis é uma banda de música brasileira nascida em Juiz de Fora, no berço da Zona Da Mata mineira, que iniciou sua trajetória em 2017 através do encontro de artistas que descobriram a potencialidade na criação coletiva da canção desde as reuniões de amigues em casa, tomando um café e experimentando o universo das possibilidades sonoras, até os palcos das ruas do centro da cidade, dos bares de esquina e das casas de show.

Em 2018 lançaram o EP de apresentação "Despertar", como resultado de sua colocação em 4º lugar na Virada Cultural Raul Sampaio (Marataízes - ES) e parcialmente custeado por uma campanha de financiamento coletivo. O trabalho encontra-se disponível em todas as plataformas digitais de música. A circulação do espetáculo baseado em "Despertar" focou-se em fortalecer, para além de sua própria música, o cenário independente da cidade e promover um intercâmbio entre diferentes gêneros musicais, levando o grupo constantemente a se apresentar ao lado de diversos nomes da cena local, além de dividir o palco com artistas como Chico Chico e João Mantuano, Arthus Fochi , El Efecto, Dudu Lima Trio, João Bosco.

Após uma série de mudanças na formação da banda, a nova soma de elementos e linguagens iniciou uma transformação em sua sonoridade. Assim, deram vida à Live Session "Despertar Ao Vivo", lançada em 2020, que apresentou ao público as canções presentes em seu primeiro EP, porém com uma roupagem um pouco diferente da original. No mesmo ano lançaram uma segunda Live Session: "Čao la Chama", dessa vez em parceria com o grupo franco-brasileiro Čao Laru. As duas apresentações foram disponibilizadas nas plataformas de streaming durante a pandemia.

Seu próximo trabalho, ainda em andamento, se chamará "Fogo-Fátuo". O novo disco pretende apresentar uma estética que transita e se equilibra entre as raízes da música popular brasileira e latinoamericana e o experimentalismo dos elementos sintetizados. A gravação foi realizada através dos recursos da Lei Aldir Blanc de Minas Gerais e o projeto contará com financiamento coletivo para que possa ser finalizado. Seu lançamento está previsto para o segundo semestre de 2021, em parceria com o selo independente Cantores Del Mundo e masterização feita pelo produtor musical Bruno Giorgi.

Integrantes do projeto musical:

7 (integrantes da banda): Alice Santiago - voz, violão e cavaco Daniela Zorzal - baixo elétrico Pedro Brum - voz e guitarra Sarah Vieira - voz e flauta transversal Tata Rocha - voz, teclado e sintetizador Bruno Targs - voz, percussão e kalimba Eduardo Yroxe - voz percussão

[atcostmag]

Sølv - Gentle Riot

A bedroom artist to the hilt, the London-based singer-songwriter, director and producer goes solely by the name of Sølv, the Danish word for “silver”. A self-taught, self-managed and unsigned artist, Sølv works solely from her apartment relying only on a close-knit circle of friends for input. With her latest track “Gentle Riot”, Sølv renews her commitment to that do-it-yourself attitude where intuition and gut feelings drive her experimental gaze. Written during COVID-19 lockdown, “Gentle Riot” speaks magnitudes. Carrying the sloping immensity of its massive bass sound, Sølv transverses rugged terrain as her ethereal vocals are channeled the track’s jagged sonic topographies. Speaking to her affirmation of artistic independence, Sølv had this to say about “Gentle Riot”:   

"I wrote, produced and recorded Gentle Riot during lockdown. It’s about learning to be unmistakably yourself. Originally written as a comeback to anyone who tries to keep you in your place and not believing in the power and potential you hold, I soon realised it was just as much an internal conversation; an energy that paves the way towards self-acceptance. It’s about not listening to your self-sabotaging inner voice and trusting your true intuition."

You can check out track’s from Sølv’s previous discography including “CODEINE” EP track “All to You” with the dark, resonant haunt of her striking vocal shrill and her preceding single with the enigmatic summon and percolating depths of “Heavy Weather”:

“All to You”

Sølv · All To You

“Heavy Weather”

Sølv · Heavy Weather

“Gentle Riot”

Sølv · Gentle Riot

[laravilaboa]

El duelo de Ash

(Corto fanfic de final alternativo como continuación del ep 22 de Banana Fish.)

"Meses han pasado desde que no oía el sonido de golpes en mi puerta. Siendo un hombre muerto para el mundo y sin motivos lo suficientemente atrayentes como para desmentir aquel rumor, la soledad era mi única compañía. ¿Salir? No era necesario, los pocos contactos que saben de mi actual condición y las muchas deudas que me tienen son suficientes para que abastezcan este departamento con comida y los servicios de agua, luz y cable, aunque insistí en que este último era sumamente innecesario hicieron oídos sordos. Más yo no pude hacerlo al oír un sobre deslizarse en la entrada. Acercarme o no fue un dilema que pronto resolví al notar el nombre IBE en grandes letras. Al tomarlo, una carta fue lo primero en aparecer ante mis ojos.

'Hace unas semanas tuve el valor de tomar mi cámara y bajar las fotografías a mí computadora, lo mismo con la de Eiji, -No esperaba leer su nombre en las primeras líneas, así como tampoco pude evitar el mal estar que se posó en la boca de mi estómago.- Creí al principio que debía dejarlas ahí, sentí que verlas sería perturbar lo último que quedaba de él, sus recuerdos. Aún duele. Duele cada día. Veo su cuerpo en sueños y siento el frío que lo invadió de manera inmediata, desearía haber sido yo.

¿Sabes? Le di la cámara con el fin de que fotografiase cosas que le devuelvan la inspiración para volver a saltar al regresar a Japón. Al contarle esto a Max, me hizo comprender que de no ver lo que había fotografiado, estaría despreciándolo, estaría dejando en el olvido sus sentimientos, ya que aquellas fotos eran de lo que realmente consideraba sería capaz de devolverle su valor, cada foto era un paso más con su pértiga en manos, cada foto acortaba la distancia hacia la barra transversal que debía saltar, cada foto le quitaba el miedo a caer mal una vez más. Creo que deberías verlas'

Antes de llegar a la post data, la carta se deslizó por mis manos cayendo al suelo suavemente, sin emitir sonidos, careciente de vida, justo como me sentía yo, y al igual que la carta, caí, pero el piso de madera se estremeció bajo mi peso y el vaso que rompió en el silencio fue lo que me trajo nuevamente a la realidad.

Aunque coincidía con Ibe y Max, ver las fotos era abrir una herida la cual, si bien nunca había cerrado, me negaba a admitir que existía. Pero el sentimiento de estar despreciando a Eiji ganó la partida, y me encontré a mí mismo sentado en la cama con el sobre en las manos.

Constelaciones, pájaros a punto de volar, nubes, gatos en tejados, restaurantes japoneses, hojas desprendidas de los árboles, podía ver a Eiji en cada foto, podía verlo imaginándose a sí mismo en ellas, pero la sonrisa que inconscientemente se había posado en mis labios al reconocerlo en cada imagen se borró y mi corazón se contrajo.

Ya no había pájaros ni nubes, las fotos comenzaron a retratar paisajes, pero no fue eso lo que me sorprendió, sino verme en ellos. En cada uno aparecía mi silueta observándolos. Eiji capturo imágenes de mí en las que incluso con un arma en mi cinturón parecía indefenso, vulnerable. Él había captado mi verdadera esencia, aquella que ante nadie mostraría, pero la cual no había ocultado a sus oscuros y brillantes ojos, que veían mi humanidad incluso cuando yo creí haberla perdido hace muchos años.

Mis ojos comenzaron a humedecerse y las lágrimas no pararon de brotan siquiera cuando me recosté en la cama. Estaba llorando como no me había permitido hacerlo. Estaba llorando como siquiera al tenerlo muerto en mis brazos lo hice. Estaba haciendo el duelo que tanta falta me hacía. El dolor calaba cada parte de mi enflaquecido cuerpo. Sentí como cada latido quemaba y la necesidad de que mi corazón deje de latir. Golpee mi pecho mientras un grito de frustración era arrancado de mi garganta. Su nombre sacudía mi mente al igual que sus recuerdos. Eiji. Eiji. Eiji. Mi corazón, mi cuerpo lo reclamaban ardiendo. Jamás había sentido que mi alma me abandonaba. Fui violado desde temprana edad, pisoteado, vi cercana a la muerte tantas veces que llegué a considerarla una amiga, pero esta sensación era completamente nueva. No había dejado que mis sentimientos me invadieran por miedo, miedo a darme cuenta de ellos, pero en este punto eran innegables. 

Mi boca seca me exigía agua y la sensación de deshidratarme por los ojos no me permitió negársela.

Cada paso hacia la cocina era una puntada en mi pecho, el cual hace tiempo había acurrucado el cuerpo de Eiji, alguna vez con vida, y una última vez sin ella.

La carta en el suelo me atraía más que la sed, por lo que la recogí y finalmente leí la post data.

"PD/ Espero no te moleste la foto pegada al dorso del sobre, esa la saqué yo. Sentí que también la querrías. Solo espero no causarte más dolor."

Con los ojos hinchados, volví a la habitación y tomé el sobre con la fotografía de Ibe. Una sonrisa melancólica se atrevió a asomarse; en la foto nos encontrábamos ambos viéndonos, ambos cerca el uno del otro con el atardecer ocultándose. Una vez más el atardecer y Eiji eran testigo de mi vulnerabilidad. Una vez más ambos presenciaban mis sentimientos, aquellos que intentaba ocultar. Una vez más Eiji me tomó desprevenido como nadie podía hacerlo.

Coloqué la foto en mi mesa de luz y antes de cerrar los ojos, le susurré: Sayonara, Eiji."

-Lara Vilaboa

[mcatmemoranda]

Interstitial phase:

Kerley lines are 2-3 cm long horizontal lines in the base of lungs close to chest wall.

They are the result of interstitial edema and increased lymphatic drainage.

This is the second phase of congestive heart failure.

Source

The white arrows are pointing to Kerley B lines.

From Aquifer:

A mnemonic to look for signs of heart failure on the CXR is ChECK, which stands for:

Cephalization (dilation of the pulmonary vessels radiating upward from the hilum due to fluid overload).

Effusions (look for blunting of the costophrenic angles).

Cardiomegaly (heart shadows occupying greater than 50% of the thoracic diameter).

But in the site it linked, it says "The heart is considered enlarged if the transverse diameter of the heart is larger than diameter of the hemi thorax;" so if the heart diameter is greater than 1/2 the chest diameter, the heart is enlarged.

Kerley B lines (horizontal, peripheral white markings, especially at the bases).

[tallertransversal1617]

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