pulling sky

sometime in the near future you will wake up at 3AM beside the person you love most in the world; wearing next to nothing, you will touch their cheek and they will sleepily pull you closer. the sky will be pink and gold and reflecting onto your love’s bare back. you will feel safe and secure.

Grounding, a quick how-to

i like to think of grounding as the magical equivalent of a jogger stretching their legs before and after a run. it focuses you and gets you ready to get stuff done. grounding is the process of ridding yourself of negative/stale/stagnant energies, and pulling in new, fresh, powerful energies, and connecting with the energies around us.

here is a short list of ways/options of how to do it.

physically

literally shake it out. stretch, crack your knuckles, etc. breathe, roll your neck around, clench your fists and  then stretch them wide open.

visualization / the tree method

imagine tree roots growing out of your feet and into the ground, and branches growing out of your arms/head into the sky. pull energy into yourself through the roots/branches

others

you can invent your own ways to ground. as long as it involves pulling energy into you (from whatever source, it doesn’t just have to be the earth) and connecting with the sources around you.

theguardian.com
Sky pulls broadcast of show that cast white actor as Michael Jackson
Singer’s family ‘angered’ and ‘disrespected’ by portrayal of Jackson, played by Joseph Fiennes, in satirical series Urban Myths
By Hannah Ellis-Petersen

We’re feeling VERY positive tonight. Sky Arts have made the right call to pull Urban Myths. It’s excellent to see Michael Jackson being honoured with the respect he deserves and for a media outlet to choose the right thing to do over ratings and money. Thank-you to Paris Jackson & Taj Jackson for speaking up on Urban Myths and MJFam for turning their ‘anger into action’. There’s nothing that can’t be done when we raise our voice as one. It’s been a crazy 48 hours here at The MJCast. After launching an online protest against this broadcast, interacting with Michael’s daughter, being featured in Rolling Stone, BBC, Huffington Post and many other publications, we are so proud of this outcome. We aren’t stopping here though. Wherever there are people wanting to dilute or tear down Michael’s legacy, we’ll be right there to set things right. The MJCast. ✊🏽✌🏽

2

Before, after.

It rained this morning. In the afternoon, the sun did its best to press through the thickness – not clouds, it didn’t seem, more an extra layer, as though the sky had pulled a sheet over itself, like light was trying to shine through light. The sky was white-grey in the way December skies are white-grey and the sun, when it presses through, takes on a look more lunar, pale, like silver skin stretched across a loin.

I’d been crouching over a showerbed all morning, grouting tiles. My view was floorward. The room was warm and dim. I left the bathroom and walked into the livingroom we’d made with all the windows we’d put in and light was pouring through, magic, wet, post-winter-rain light. I gasped and gushed, look, oh my gosh, the light! The man whose house it is – whose life we’ve been a part of off and on for months now as the job has expanded and contracted, as we’ve cut holes into the side of his house, built new rooms, brought the light in – he sat on a couch in the corner. “I know, I know,” he said, “it’s beautiful.” We both looked out and looked how the light entered in. “My mother had an expression,” he said. “I don’t remember the Russian, but for light like this, she said the witch’s daughter is getting married.”

She was a proud bride today, with a supernatural glow.

What I Mean To You

Do you remember, dashing
Orange leaves, overhead
Like security duty
Abandoned, black road
A runway for hopeless dreams
The whole place, silent
Breathlessly waiting,
You, turned back, watching me gain
October air slapping cool,
You jogged backwards, blue eyes stared
Pulling the sky down
I believed, trick of that day
I could fly to you
A laugh in your eyes
As orange fairies flew around
Your arms up, becoming tree
Indulging them, fall for you
I stopped, somehow knew
I’d realize what you meant
you’d, darken, shedding
trajectory, on
As you, petrified,
As I, fell for you
As you, one man smiling
Showed me what cold was

@katrinnac

we don’t talk about sam wilson enough u know. he lost his best friend in combat and he retired from service to help other Vets readapt to civilian life. he put the wings back on and got back out there just bc steve, the asshole who kept lapping him on his morning runs, kinda needed someone’s help. he helps steve find bucky even though he knows it’s a potentially dangerous and futile mission and despite the fact his only interaction with bucky was getting pulled out of the sky by him, but he knows it means a lot to steve. when they find bucky, he doesn’t tread lightly and alienate him, he just immediately starts giving him shit and treating him like a person. and he names his little robot bird redwing and encourages the team to pet him. i love sam wilson, we should talk about him more.

Do you think Helios
gazed and touched
Icarus through the
bars of his prison?

Do you think he
caressed his skin,
his face, his eyelids
with light and warmth?

Do you think Helios
wanted to pull him
across the sky like
the sun with his chariot?

Do you think he
grew excited when
Icarus escaped on wings
of wax and feathers?

Do you think Helios
was a little too overjoyed
and too greedy with
heat to meet him?

Do you think Icarus
wanted to touch him
as he had been touched?
Fingers reaching?

Do you think they
were too busy
embracing to realize
the wax was melting?

Do you think Icarus
glimpsed the possibility
of immortality and glory
with blinding kisses?

Do you think it
was worth the fall
and the agony of wait
to be together?

Do you think those
few moments felt
like ageless infinity
and timeless love?

Do you think Icarus
felt any regret as the
light dimmed and he was
swallowed by the sea?

—  In that moment, they didn’t think at all
youtube.com
How to Use the Gentle Leader
This video will teach you how to use the product known as "The Gentle Leader" on your dogs who just won't stop pulling on the leash no matter what you've tri...

I know a lot of people that we’ve met have reported that the Gentle Leader didn’t work for them at all. Almost every single time, it’s because they just put the leader on their dog and expected their dog to be able to immediately walk on a leash with it which is not the way to approach this remarkable training tool. 

This video shows you how to train your dog to use the Gentle Leader properly and will teach you how to have success in using it! 

unfavored cain,
you may not be your brother’s keeper,
but you are the keeper of his secrets.


the way his bloody fingers
dragged down your cheek.


(redacted.)


the arch of his body,
stomach pulled to the sky.


(redacted.)


his final words
hissed in your ear,
the one testimony that could
have pardoned you -


(redacted.)


with all that blood
screaming from the ground,
no one asked
if abel wanted to live.

—  did god hear the vows that were made in that field? | o.g.k
Storms: 10k imagine

There was an odd peaceful presence in the fresh air. The wind was picking up as the sky’s filled with dark clouds. The sun no longer was seen as the blue turned to shades of dark blacks and grays. A storm was coming. A bad storm was coming.

I sat in the bed of the truck with a very uneasy feeling coming over me. There was a bright blinding flash of lightening rushing from the dark sky. I pulled my large jacket closer to my body as the wind pushed cold air around me.

My body tensed up as a crashing sound of thunder took over the atmosphere. 10k eyes locked on me. I tried to cover up any single of distress but he was too observant to let anything go. Plus it might have been to the fact I was new to the group. He still seemed iffy around me just as some of the others. It’s hard to trust people during the apocalypse. And I’ve been with them hardly a month, 3 weeks tops.

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Merman Spamano AU

It wasn’t love at first sight. Not exactly.

Riding the edge of discomfort, Lovino felt the pulsing of the waves like the beating of his heart. The smack of the shallow waves a faster tempo than the heavy roll of the deeper waters.

It was a secret joy of his, to sit near the sky and sun. Flirting with places he was not meant to see.

The gulls crooned of it. The endless swell of the skies, the joyous exctasy of riding the the curling winds.

He too understood the hedonistic love of his own element.

Coursing the pull of a whirpool; riding it to its zenith. Singing the water into a crescendo upon the rocks, to embrace a ship in the most finite of ways.

The thrum of power beneath his skin.

But somehow the almost-pain of open air and sky pulled to him too. Over and over he found himself on a sandbar or isle, probing the solitude of the realms above..

Within the ocean, he felt the songs of crèche mates and kin in every tide, regardless of the distance.

They were a very quiet hush now; drowned out by the calls of the water fowls and the loving embrace of the sea on the shore.

The strangest bliss.

This island was in warm waters. The greenery lush and full of unfamiliar fauna.

There were no schools of angelfish to frolic with, no gardens of corals to gently tend.

Here instead the creatures had grasping hands and limbs to climb with. The vegetation grew tall and fat in proximity to the sun.

It was difficult to describe the difference, observing here in the air versus below. The brilliance of unfiltered sunlight was blinding to those used to the depths. His second eyelid was not only unnecessary, but made it difficult to process the unreally vivid colors, so remarkably warm in tone.

The unsettling feelings found above pulled at the corners of his being in pleasant ways. As if he was becoming more than himself.

And well. When one afternoon in an eternity of similar afternoons brought a single, handsome boy crashing through the tree line, stumbling into the sand, Lovino looked at him and saw the almost-pain of the vastness of the sky and the sun upon his scales. A breathlessly beautiful pain in the wonder on that boy’s face and in the lush green of his eyes.

Mer think in larger concepts than a single person, or place, or time. They’re meant to hold within them all of the secrets of the oceans, birthed to serve their home as priests will to the temples.

And in that moment, the boy was the sun.

Lovino, could never resist the pull of the sun.  

eg���~�vR

anonymous asked:

Can I request a drabble or some sort of one shot of the first time Scott and Stiles "experimented" with one another when they were younger? Pretty please with a lot of fries in a shawarma.


Sciles Drabble Requested: 
“The first time Scott and Stiles experimented.”

                                                    uuɟoɹǝsǝǝu
                                                    adj. surprising 

It was the gloom that made Scott rephrase his words, the semi darkness of the sky pulled hollow pipes askew inside him. There was now, where his heart was meant to be, a series of wallowing whistles. It pushed his brain to the edge, his bones became too much like sludge for him to pull himself together. 

He hadn’t predicted this would be his reaction, not to this (whatever this was) but alas, it was. Stiles’ knuckles barely bumped his rib when it made way to the column of his throat and yet, Scott swore he nearly fell over. 

He was about to say something; he can’t remember which words he was rephrasing; which was the original? 

“Stiles, I was just teasing you,” He said, his throat tightened where Stiles’ fingers were. The twilight around them shifted into shadows, and the brightest corners of the jeep turned into void. Scott felt the earth slow down around him, Stiles was moving off of his lap, taking his crushing weight with him until, beyond Scott’s comprehension, he stops his best friend. He feels his claw digging into Stiles’ side and he knows that the tint of orange in the smaller boy’s eyes aren’t from the threatening, bloodshot look he was performing; they’re from Scott’s inability to control himself. “That doesn’t mean stop.” 

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