Sweep Picking

self care post

-get a calendar, and actually use it. life is so much less stressful when you know what you’re doing and when, and it’s more encouraging to not back out of plans if they’re written down and solid. you can use google calendar, a wall calendar, a planner, whatever works. just jot down plans, accomplishments, holidays, reminders, and just the jist of what’s going on in your life for that day/week/month.

-make sure to get enough sleep. for people ages 6-13, it’s recommended to get 9-11 hours of rest every night. for people ages  14-17, the recommended amount is 8-10 hours, and for adults ages 18-65+, it’s 7-9 hours. sleep is amazingly important for mental, physical, and emotional health. there is almost nothing that a good nap can’t solve. 

-take a good shower. use some nice soap, light some candles, play some music, wash your hair, shave if that’s your thing, and just relax. put out a nice fluffy towel for when you get out, and put on some clean, comfortable clothes (or pjs).

-clean your room. make your bed, vacuum/sweep your floor, pick up whatever you’ve left on your floor or dresser. organized space, organized mind. 

-do laundry. wash all of your dirty clothes that you have been putting off, and throw in some fabric softener so the next time you wear them, they’re nice and soft. 

-get a cheap coloring book and crayons or colored pencils for when you’re bored. coloring releases stress and relaxes your mind. i bought a children’s coloring book for 97 cents at walmart. 

-watch your favorite movie. cuddle up on the couch or in bed with some blankets and actually watch it. put your phone, laptop, what have you somewhere else and enjoy. 

-drink something warm. a big mug of tea, hot chocolate, coffee, whatever you like. 

-wear fluffy socks! it always makes life a little better.

-stretch, especially if you haven’t moved in a while. move your muscles a little bit so they don’t stiffen.

-brush your teeth and wash your face if you haven’t yet. you always feel better after you’ve done it. clean yourself up a little. hygiene is important. 

-wash your sheets, blankets, pillowcases, everything. remake your bed. clean it all up so it’s nice and fresh for the night.

-reevaluate your friends list. yes, unfriend and unfollow, but it goes deeper than that. stop avoiding it and realize that a toxic friendship isn’t good. slowly take steps to back off. it’s difficult, and easier said than done, but it feels so much better to get rid of what’s contributing to your negative feelings.

-remember to do little things to treat yourself. take baths. use a face mask. go to a movie, or out to eat. hang out with a friend. call a family member you haven’t talked to in a long time. take care of yourself.

Valentine’s Day, 11:07pm

Time is slipping away as you wait for Bucky to return home from a mission so you can celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

 This pure, shameless fluffy fluff…no really.

Word Count: 2,322

A/N: I was sitting in a creative meeting today and we were looking at some vintage designs when I spotted something that just screamed for a story.  I can’t tell you what it was here but it’s down below ;)  So for the next hour I tried to discreetly type out on my phone the story that was running through my head while also trying to pay attention to my coworkers. Be warned that this is a quickie and hasn’t been subjected to my usual weeks and weeks of editing, rewriting and obsessing.

It’s 11:00pm in Budapest.

1:00am in Moscow.

5:00pm in the Avengers compound where you are hunched over a screen tracking the quinjet on radar.  

You’ve been silently staring at the display of vintage world clocks in the control room for hours; lulled by the sweep of the second hands as they circle slowly.

Just ten more minutes you tell yourself.  In ten minutes, Bucky will be home.

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Long Day: Part II / Haz drabble

Pairing: Haz x Reader

Featuring: Harrison Osterfield

Warning: light smut

Request - I need more Haz smut babe

ok the smut i write is usually low key so please don’t expect this to be like total smut cause it probably won’t be


Previous Part(s): Long Day: Part I

“Harrison!” You shrieked slightly as your boyfriends hands grabbed your thighs, pulling your bodies together under the water. The jets were all you could hear as Harrison pressed his mouth against yours again. The feeling of his hands and his mouth could drown you. 

His hands continued from the sides of your legs around to your lower back. Using his finger tips, he traced circles on your skin before grasping your butt in his large hands. The sensation made you moan and as your body was lulled further into his, you could feel him against you. Against your lower stomach. His hands in your lower backside. All of it was overwhelming you, and as the jets continued, the steam became heavy and you could feel the sweat dripping from your forehead.

“I’m enjoying this,” Harrison started in between kisses. “But I’m really hot in this bath.” You pulled away from him, your chest feeling empty as it was no longer touching his toned body. You continued help yourself as you let out a small laugh. Harrison stared at you for a moment before breaking out in a smile that made your stomach swirl.

“I didn’t mean to laugh. I agree, it’s very hot in here.” You said as Harrison’s smile turned into his small half smirk. His hands stopped massaging your butt and they fell to your sides. Your own hands had been playing in his matted hair.

“I like your laugh.” He mumbled, reaching forward to kiss you once more, his lips lingering for a while. “How’s your body feel? Less sore?”

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A practical, simple sweep picking lesson by Guthrie Govan. He speaks so well on such a wide variety of techniques. 


My 100th post, I thought it should be something I think about every day. Listen to leading riff, some serious sweep picking. Sylosis- Empyreal

anonymous asked:

Oooo can I ask for a bit of fluff, if you don't mind? Genji's lover in his young playboy days visits his grave, believing him dead, and he finds them there? Blackwatch or Post-Zen era either one is awesome 💗💗

AO3 Link Here!

He wonders why he’s doing this to himself. It’s been years since he’s been back here and he’s already had a showdown with his brother, revealed he was alive to him and then escaped from his own family’s grounds.

But something inside him says that he won’t find closure until he sees the stone they gave him. There’s no body there, there never has been. But it was where his friends would have gone to be close to him. It almost feels like there is a whole other Genji residing within that stone. One that stopped growing on that night ten years ago. He thinks he should reconcile that Genji with the one he has become. 

What he doesn’t expect when he rounds the corner into the graveyard is to see you there. He hasn’t seen you in over ten years and yet you look just as beautiful as he remembers, if not more so. He thought about you constantly just after joining Overwatch. He hated himself knowing you were probably crying. A lot. And over him no less. Or rather over the man he used to be.

Genji isn’t proud of who he was when it came to romantic relationships. Now he thinks he was too flippant about them. But you had been his first and only love. And he hadn’t had a clue how to deal with that. Which led to a lot of fights and him saying things he didn’t mean and never would. You never left him, even when he gave you ample reason to. And once when he asked you why you said it was because you loved him.

He hadn’t known how to respond to that. It shook him to his core. No one had ever seriously said those words to him in a romantic context. And he found they resonated in his heart. He couldn’t find the words to reply so he kissed you instead, hoping you could feel how he felt for you in the way he thrust his tongue into your mouth and in the way he held you close. That was also the first time he had ever actually made love to someone. And it was the last time too. That had been the night before his death. The last time he saw you: beautiful and naked and lying in your bed, dreaming contently. 

He snuck out of your house that morning. The fear of commitment getting the better of him. He remembers vaguely gasping the words when he had been with you that night. Garbled as they were and in Japanese. He wonders offhandedly if you remember that. He thinks you might, given your presence here.

He watches you for a long moment. You are on your knees before his stone, a crease in your brow and a profoundly sad look in your eyes. He doesn’t have a plan when he approaches you, just knows that he can’t stand to see you look that way any longer. He had hoped that you might have moved on, but if you are here…perhaps he may be able to ease your heart. He has no illusions of sweeping in and picking up where you left off. He wouldn’t even know how to do that.

But he wants to speak to you again. To hear your voice. To see your eyes light up when you smile. So approach you he does. He deliberately makes his footfall audible, but even still you do not look up. He clears his throat and calls your name softly. And you freeze. Your entire body stiffens like you’ve just been shocked. Well, he concedes, you have just gotten a shock. You turn to him slowly, your eyes wide and your face paler than normal. “W-who are you?” you ask, your voice quivering like you’re afraid of the answer.

“I think you already know.” he says gravely, suddenly thankful and irritated that he’s wearing a faceplate. He braces himself and removes it, trying his hardest not to shift uncomfortably under your gaze.

You don’t react how he expects you to. He was expecting anger or yelling or something negative. But you don’t give him that. You were always surprising him. He does not meet your eyes when you slowly approach him. When you are just a foot away you throw yourself at him, your arms wrapping around his neck. Genji catches you out of instinct, his own arms circling your waist. “I knew it.” you breathe and he can hear the smile in your voice.

He is stunned. He deserves anger and cursing and crying not you being so happy to see him. He does not deserve you, he never did. But he is far too selfish to force you away for your own good. “How…?” he asks, bewilderment plain on his face when you pull away and gaze up at him. He has changed in 10 years. More than most people do, certainly, and yet you still look upon him with that same warm affection that he had coveted from the moment you met.

You shake your head, tears spilling down your cheeks, but your smile is so wide he thinks it may hurt. “I don’t know. I don’t, I just…I knew you were alive. Somehow I…I just felt it. I know that sounds dumb and cheesy and it probably doesn’t even make sense but it’s the truth I-” He cuts you off with the warmth of his lips crashing against yours.

For a split second he expects you to push him away, to slap him and ask him how dare he presume that you are still his, that you have been waiting for him all this time. But you surprise him again. The arms around his neck tighten, your lips parting for him when he seeks entrance, your chest pressed to his.

He can feel your heart thundering beneath your rib cage and he wonders if you can feel his. Surely this is not a fairy tale. One kiss after ten years of separation and thinking one party may be dead does not fix every problem. But it’s a start. He knows it will be an uphill battle. He has some serious apologizing to do, but this is one battle that Genji Shimada looks forward to.

Life in Color - Creek

Once Craig realized the rainbow came from a person—one steadily beating heart, two wide green eyes—the world was never quite the same again. Maybe he’s gotten a bit too poetic with time, maybe a bit too over-dramatic and strange- but he’s worth it. God, is Tweek ever worth it.

I wrote this a little bit ago but realized I never made it a post on Tumblr so here we are! Also, it’s Tuesday, so this is even more appropriate. Find it on AO3 here! 

It’s a Tuesday morning.

Craig hates Tuesdays. They’re too early in the week, and they always feel too long. The rest of the week looks like a mountain from Tuesday morning. The cold is particularly biting this Tuesday, and he rubs at his subtly leaking nose, sniffing loud enough to hear it through his headphones. Summer barely existed this year, and he’s not looking forward to the snow. Nobody ever really is. Oh well.

The bus rolls to a stop in front of him, and with the snap of its shitty little stop sign popping out to blink red in his eyes, the doors crumple in like the gates to a particularly teenaged hell, and his sister shoves in front of him to get to her friends first. He just wants to get to school. He sighs and climbs in after her.

His road is bumpier than the main ones and he’s not sure if it’s because he doesn’t live in the best neighborhood or if it’s because none of the roads get enough attention from city hall. Plow trucks are unkind to asphalt. A particularly deep and familiar pothole makes his palm jam into his chin. He’s bitten his tongue like that before, so he’s learned better; he doesn’t talk on the bus. There’s not much point, anyway.

Everything looks so grey this morning. He hates mornings. Tuesday mornings, though, they’re the worst, and he’ll say it all day long.

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bemusedlybespectacled  asked:

I know that it wasn't the one that won the poll, but I would be really interested in a Rebelcaptain North & South AU if you ever get around to it, just because North & South is hands down my favorite period drama of all time.

CW for: 1860s style medical stuff, mention of amputation and blood. 

OKAY SO FOR BACKGROUND: Cassian and John’s backgrounds have been kind of merged, here. Cassian’s not an orphan; he has a younger sister, who is not nearly so ridiculous as Fanny, and his mother is still living, though not nearly the kind of battleaxe that Mrs. Thornton is in canon. The problem here, which keeps the Andors out of mainstream society, is that Cassian’s father is half-English; he went back to Mexico (his mother’s country) and married a Mexican woman before returning to England to make his terrible investments and die. Cassian’s mother, Yasmin, still struggles with English sometimes; Cassian himself spent the first few years of his life in Mexico, and in upper class England in the 1860s, that’s a recipe for some hardcore racist bullshit. He’s clipped and cut off from everyone because he’s learned that English people are not a fan of anyone with an accent beyond their own, and certainly not a foreign mill owner, but through circumstances and determination he’s risen pretty high in Milton and he’s done it all to keep his mother and his little sister safe. 

(Jyn kinda fucks up his “all English people kinda suck” idea though.) Lil bit.

Heavy credit goes to @turiantea as always for building this AU with me.


It’s past two in the morning and he’s just blown out the last candle in his office–an early night, then–when he sees the light in the clinic window. 

Cassian can’t help it. There’s a sudden leaping in his chest, up his throat. It could be Chirrut Imwe, he tells himself. Or Baze Malbus, cleaning up after a long day. He’d leased the building to the two years ago on the policy that they always take Marlborough employees with a discounted rate, and they’ve never once charged more than a handful of pennies for the work they do, no matter how late it keeps them. It is Chirrut, he tells himself. Or Baze. There’s no one else working at the clinic who would linger this late.

He ought to go home. Work starts at seven, and he’s to rise by five. He ought to go home, and wash his face, and sleep as little as he can muster, and forget all about this. 

He tells himself this as he snags his jacket off of the back of his desk, and starts down the stairs. 

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Witch Tip on Cleansing & Smudging

Before you even start to do a spiritual cleanse of an area/room or smudge, physically clean it first. Sweep, vacuum, pick up stuff, declutter, and dust. Do what must be done. This will remove a lot of negative energy that has built up. Negative energy loves dirty and messy areas. It will just sit and stagnate and impact your outlook and your own energy. If a room is not physically cleansed before a spiritual cleansed, then the negative energy will accumulate faster (and stronger in my experience.)

Do You Have To Do That? (7/?)

Pairing: The Avenger Team x Reader // Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: None so far

A/N: I have decided to re-write this for those of you who had started it, I’m going to start over I’m keep the first part and possibly a good portion of the second. But I am going to take it in a different direction. If you want to be tagged let me know, I’ll glad you add you.

(Sorry this has taken me so long with writing this!! I hit a major writer block with it till last night. I’m about to start part 6 for this today)

@chrisevansthedoritobastard   @holahellohialoha  
@almightyunnie @imamotherfuckingstar-lord
@iwillbeinmynest  @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked
@goodnightwife @irepeldirt  
@yourtropegirl  @bellejeunefillesansmerci  
@buckyb-avengers  @winterboobaer  
@mrhowardstark @captainsteverogerslover  
@stank-tower  @thevanishedillusion  
@shamvictoria11  @heir-of-light-33  
@princess-fangirl1 @alphasoldier
@rileyloves5  @jonsnowisnotdeadthough

Parts 1-5

“Have a fun night?” Nat leans against the frame of your doorway, smirking at you. You freeze, your heart jumped into your throat, you swallow going back to tying your sneaker, standing up you brush your hands down your work out leggings.

“I have no idea what you are talking about?” You keep your face completely expressionless as you tighten your ponytail adjusting your sports bra once more.

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ID Number

Prompt: I left my textbook in the classroom and you found it and spent two days tracking me down using the book number and now you’re standing in front of me holding it and the snow makes your hair pretty what class are you in

Word Count: 1647

McGonagall sighed as she watched her more obedient students pass notes, while the less studious ones talked and laughed loudly without hesitation. She had lost their attention, of course, she had. Second last class of the day and the teenagers that filled her classroom started to get antsy. She looked at the table in the back left of the room, filled with the most disruptive, and admittedly her favourite students. Sirius Black seemed to be drawing something absurd on a spare piece of parchment, while Remus Lupin and James Potter laughed loudly. Peter Pettigrew cracked a joke which only made the four boys laugh harder.

“Class dismissed!” She called, rolling her eyes at the boisterous cheering.

The four boys were out of there as quickly as possible, not even sparing half a glance at the table and the mess that they’d made. As they exited the classroom,  Minerva noted that James’ backpack looked suspiciously empty compared to when he had entered. She shrugged it off, guessing that all that space had been taken up by all the parchment that now resided crumpled on the floor.

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