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jadelynlace · 3 years

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ink drinker / Modern Vikings AU, Ivar x F!Reader, Chapter 3

catch up here!

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.

pairing: Ivar x F!Reader

author’s note & content warning: mentions of depression, self harm and suicidal thoughts; all pertaining to Ivar, not reader. mentions of therapy, medication and past history of self inflicted & blooming trauma. please read at your own risk. my messages are always, always open for anyone who may ever need a listener. anything in italics indicates a flash back. there are so many fucking feelings in this chapter that I just, am apologizing now. but there’s smut!

✎

It was gloomy the morning you remembered finally catching a glimpse of Ivar’s scars. Adorned and nearly smothered by him in his bed, the small snores from him somewhere draped across your skin, traveling over the plains in warm boulders. You were always drawn to the artwork on his limbs, there was always a smaller detail you missed and found within your next search but through the endless gazes you finally caught sight of the jagged white flesh. The since healed lacerations and your medical knowledge took full force of your mind. They were scars, they were healed scars, but they were scars from the straight edge of a razor blade. With such precision and such aftermath you knew they were the scars with one intent within their making. And they were there to tell you the secret horrors Ivar had not yet spoken—that there was a point where he felt his heart should no longer beat, and his lungs should no longer fill and that his life was meaningless. And that he should end it.

“Can I ask you something?” You finally find yourself mumbling; words floating through the cabin of the parked ambulance on stand by. Hvitserk’s coffee halfway through to his stomach when you peep in such a meek voice he almost coughs the molten liquid back out.

“Yeah, of course, Y/N,”

“How bad is Ivar’s depression?” And you simply ask. No foreword to the speech, no coating of sugar or dusting of fake joy. As blunt as you had been trained to voice the death of a loved one to their family. “I saw the medication in his cabinet, and I saw the scars on his wrists. I know it’s none of my business because he’s your brother, but…” and you can’t find a lie to justify it. Not ready to spill to your partner about the times Ivar had spilled into the condoms with you.

“Bad,” Hvitserk says, and just as bluntly. “He…he tried to kill himself in college. I don’t know if you’ve noticed how he’s never available Saturdays from eleven to noon, but that’s when he has therapy. I had been trying to convince him since high school to see someone, and Floki finally got through to him not too long ago,” He adds. “When I got that phone call from mom that he was in the hospital—I felt like such a failure, Y/N, because I knew it was coming and I did nothing to stop it,” Your hand goes to his wrist for a second, a quick squeeze of added support as you listen.

“Sometimes people refuse what’s good for them, Hvitty,” You start. “You should know that—how many times have we explained to someone why they should go to the hospital with us, but they still refuse?” He finally cracks a smile at that. “Do you think he’s in a better place now, mentally?”

“Either that, or he’s just stable. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Ivar doesn’t like to talk about his feelings…”

“Wow Hvitserk, I had no idea,” You tease, nudging him with both your elbow and sarcastic tone as the voice on the radio fills into the cabin. Your stand by is over and the conversation is dropped as you leave the scene.

There had been instances where you think he might be ready; he might understand that the new gifting of your relationship status might help him to realize you aren’t joking when you offer to listen. You’d listen to Ivar talk until he ran out of things to say if it came to that. More times now the words perched themselves on his lips, ready to spring forwards but he keeps pulling them back. He keeps swallowing them because they’re mixed like bile and stew and far too gross, far too un-human for him to even want to try to speak them to you. And then Ivar kicks himself for drowning these demons who have started to learn to swim and he sees you in your uniform and remembers that nothing phases you. You watch open heart surgery on the television while you eat his mother’s lasagna without a care in the world or a realization that what you were doing is unusual.

“Can I talk to you?” Ivar says bluntly, sitting like a cowered dog in the living room and you’re hardly through his front door when he asks. You can feel how your head rises slowly, a quick snarky word to come back but you bite down on your tongue so roughly you can taste blood as you just look at him. You have never seen a man of his stature try to look so small, try to be so invisible. Worry comes to your face just as quickly as the next breath passes through your diaphragm and you’re on the couch before you even take your shoes off. “It’s messy,” He finally admits. Shallow and dead and you can see the broken boy that has tried to hide himself through the bulked muscles and the tattoos; the glare through his blue eyes and the curved lip.

“Most of what involves the human body is messy, Ivar,” You find yourself saying back, and it sounds pathetic to your ears. It sounds like you’re trying to tell the parent of a dead child that you know how they feel but you don’t. And you never will. But Ivar shedding this skin for you feels like you’re walking through the motions on a call, eyes from crowds of people crawling over and stuck on your every move. And every move that comes next like they’re watching a soap opera with their dinner and they’ve disconnect that what is happening is real, it’s someones life. Just like how you have to disconnect. But in this moment it’s Ivar, and you’re present.

“Like paint,” Ivar mumbles next.

“Yeah, like paint,” You repeat and there’s a smile on your lips for a second. “Ivar? You don’t do that anymore, do you?” You finally find the courage to ask.

“No,” Ivar says as he glances down at his right hand’s wrist, shoving the skin next to the sweatshirt he’s wearing as if rubbing it on the gray cotton will make those scars dissipate. “I get tattoos instead,” That causes a sick button to click in your consciousness as to why Ivar is so heavily covered from his shoulders to his ankles in artwork. How the sting of the needle dawning the creations reminded him of the blade he tried to use to make the mess of thoughts fly away. To make the demons come free through his skin and leave him with peace, if only a moment.

“What helps? What helps you stay present?” You ask. Ivar blinks far too many times, sorting through his brain for the answers as if it’s a container of memorabilia that’s so unorganized even his mother can’t stand the sight of it.

“My brothers help, sometimes,” He says. “I think about how devastated my mom would be. I think about Floki. I think about all of the people in my life who say they want me here even when my mind is trying to tell me I don’t deserve to be.”

“I want you here, Ivar.” You say back and catch how he looks at you when you admit such.

“Why? Have you seen yourself, Y/N? You could have anyone you want and you choose me…” The sentence breaks your heart but you now know the darkness the climbs between his ears. The seed planted so long ago in the depths of brown ground somewhere and you want to pull it from the mental garden. You want to rip the roots right from the soil and burn them so they never have a chance to infest any farther.

“No one makes me feel the way you do, Ivar,” Are the first words from your mouth. “You make me smile, you make me feel important—you remind me how to escape. Even on the worst possible days I can have, you bring me back to reality.” You want to tell him how he’s addicting, how there’s a quality to him you can’t articulate but always keeps you coming back. How you want to keep coming back because both your mind, and your body know it’s safe. How he was someone so mysterious from the outside but past every highly built wall is a man who is just so simply himself. “Because you’re you, Ivar. With the bachelor’s degree in calculus, and the copious amounts of tattoos, and a heart of gold that…you forget that you have,” You finally add. “You’re someone different to the rest of the world, but you’re the real Ivar around me,” You worry that the silence that over takes him is a sign of something else. A sign that you spoke too much, again, and scarred him for more than he could withstand. And then he smiles.

But you can’t understand why—why he smiles for someone like you. The one who let him design your first ever tattoo to his heart’s content. The one who has the same twisted sense of humor. The one who will bicker back and challenge him. The one who gets to see him fall apart between your legs. The one who makes him hard, and has him make those noises. The moans, the heavy panting and rasped groans as he bottoms out and moves through you. The one who gets to watch how his eyes snap shut, and his mouth drops open when you clench around him; how his entire back tenses when he’s close. How he holds you as he fills the rubber with everything he has. The man who loves your nails trailing on his skin. The man who smothers you every night that he spends with you, and every morning when you wake and he’s still there. Making you coffee and cooking you breakfast. How he knows your takeout order from your favorite places, and your work schedule. What food to have at his own apartment, and what movies he should have on demand. The spare clothes he keeps there for when you come over after work, ready to take the ambulance grime from your skin. The pads that are in his bathroom closet, the painkillers. The bottle of “girly white wine” that he won’t admit to drinking too, because it is damn good wine. The man who knows to check in with you during the day, and again to make sure you really are alright. The same man who knows if you don’t text him back, you and Hvitserk have gone knee deep into either a bullshit call, or a tragic one. As shocked as you were that he was listening to what you were saying—and taking it to heart—you were stunned that you hadn’t caught on to how obvious it was that Ivar was in love with you. Even with all of the time you spend crammed between your own thoughts.

“There’s a lot to sort through,” Ivar says again.

“That’s okay, Ivar,” You remind him, your head resting on his shoulder and you feel him shift, move his arm to encompass you as you curl against his side.

“You smell like bleach,” He softly laughs, his nose deep against your hair and you snort, reminded of the decontamination duties you were gifted from the calls today.

“Better than Hvitserk, who got puked on,” You reply. “Shower?” And you can feel Ivar nod against you.

His hands don’t move rapidly to shed your clothing, or to shed his own. There’s a certain calmness through his motions as he waits for the water to warm, slipping your polo from your shoulders, and planting his lips in its wake. Against the base of your neck, your spine, hugging your body flush against his in front of the mirror. Your eyes catch sight of his hands coming back around you, squeezing your breasts and you can’t stop the moan that crawls from your mouth. The traces of artwork on his fingers as his lips move from your neck, to the shell of your ear and graze your pulse point. There’s a push from your backside against his groin, and Ivar growls in response, humming not far after as you feel how his cock hardens the farther his hands roam.

Down your sides, your abdomen, swirling through your folds and dipping between them to catch your juices. Circling against the bundle of nerves he knows so precisely and you moan twice as loudly, and he does too as you moisten to his fingers. Your hands move to grab at him, anywhere they can and you find one hand holding his neck and the other wrapping around his length. Your nails crawl to his hair, pulling the locks down as his fingers take to moving quickly, spreading your womanhood and arousal and you suddenly can’t wait much longer to have him. And he can tell by how you whimper, whisper to him about how you want to feel him inside of you and there’s no fight anywhere on his body to try to deny the tone of your begging. Ivar’s eyes catch yours in the mirror as he finally pushes into you, the cold porcelain sink calming the heat of your skin as he bottoms out and rests his body against yours. There’s a sinful moan that comes through his lips as his eyes bore into yours, with the squeeze from your walls and warmth you spread through him and at first he can’t move, he only wants to savor it. His eyes finally close as he slips away from you, pushing in once more as your body rocks to the sink, singing back to him as the steam from the forgotten shower starts to fog against the mirror. Your name is through his lips as he moves, tattooed hands coming to find yours as he moves your body with each thrust, each timed sensation and you feel your own orgasm approaching. His mouth open on your ear, eyes screwed shut between love and ecstasy as his breath tickles down your face and you’re close now, far closer and far faster than you’ve ever been

“Ivar—” comes your voice and there’s only a hum in response, wordlessly pleading for you to let go because he’s got you, and you know that. Your knuckles white washed against his as you finish, shaking against the sink and you miss how Ivar’s eyes watch you unfold. Studying the pleasure laced in your features.

“Where, baby?” He says quickly, and you shudder as you remember he’s bare now, condom long since forgotten but there are still the small pills you swallow. Still working somewhere you know of, but the accuracy decreases when you take them irregularly—and there’s a big part of your life that calls for that to happen. The alarming lights and loud tones. But you know that you’re safe. With Ivar you’re always safe.

“Inside,” You finally say, his hips stopping to starve off the inevitable as he waits for you to be sure, as he waits to see the seriousness on your face so he knows you aren’t lying in the heat of the moment. And you have to say it again for him to start up again, remind him that you have a safety net. The sensitivity in your cunt melts as he keeps moving and you can tell another orgasm is starting to build. Ivar reaches from your hand quickly and starts his fingers against your clit, quick circles as you hear him get louder, feel his other arm move to crush you and you catch his face as he finishes. The sight searing in your vision and colliding with how he moves with you and your second release rolls through you. His seed spilling and you both moan, his lips still plastered against your ear and you can feel the shake through his whole body as he floats back down. The tense in his thighs pushing you against the counter. There’s a whimper next from him, as he stills, wrapping tightly to hold you there, like it was all a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from.

“I love you,” You hear him say against your skin and you’re right there to repeat it back to him. “You don’t have to mean it,” He then tries and you already know what he’s doing.

“I do, Ivar,” You say back, trying to make him look at you through the mirror but his eyes are still closed. He slowly slips from you, his release sticking between your thighs as he slides away and you’re only then able to turn in his arms. Reaching forwards to pull his mouth against his. “I love you. You and me Ivar, against the world,” You say and he hums at that, a small snicker not far after.

“I like how that sounds, baby,” His smile comes next, dopey and boyish as he finally looks into your eyes and understands that you don’t doubt any part of him. You love it all—the good and the bad and the evil things he may think about himself. You love them all because you know he feels the same way when it comes to you. “The hot water’s going to run out soon,” He mumbles as he holds you. And standing in the shower is not much more different, still wrapped up safely in his arms as you both feel the troubles melt down the drain.

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abundanceofsoph · 4 years

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SkyFire 2: Chapter 5

Tattoos, Amputations and Art: April 2016

Word count: 2.3k

PART 1

SkyFire 2 MASTERLIST

CW/TW this chapter involves and amputation surgery although there are no explicit details

>Instagram posts

A week before the surgery, Aurora and Harry were curled up in bed.

“Rori? I’ve had an idea.”

“Why does that sentence make me worried,” Rori joked.

“Yeah, ha ha, you’re hilarious,” Harry deadpanned. “Shut up I’m trying to be cute.”

“Oh, sorry dear.” She replied with a mockingly serious tone. “Please proceed.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her. “I was thinking we could go get tattoos together before your surgery next week.”

“Oooh, that sounds like fun.” She grinned over at him from where her head lay on his pillow. “It’s been so long since we got tattooed together. I don’t know what I’d get though, I’m pretty happy with the ones I’ve got.”

Harry peeled back the bedsheet covering her torso, tracing his fingers across the familiar ink spreading out across her rib cage. “Well I was thinking maybe we could your IronMan and Cap one redone on your other wrist since you’ve mentioned a couple of times that you miss it.”

“Oh harry,” she sighed. “That sounds perfect.”

“Just thought that way you’d still be keeping a part of your left hand with you.”

“I love when you get all sentimental,” she said, kissing the tip of his nose. “What are you gonna get?”

Harry blushed. “Thought I might get a palm tree after our trip to St Lucia.”

“It really was beautiful there wasn’t it?”

“Yeah it was,” he agreed, smiling softly as his hand traced the skin of her hip. “Maybe we should go back for our honeymoon.”

“I’d love that.” She lifted herself up on her elbow to look down at him, leaning in to kiss him deeply as his hands moved to grab at her waist, pulling her closer to him. She burst out laughing as she lost her balance and fell on top of him. His laughter echoed hers before their lips reconnected.

xXx

Aurora found herself in a tattoo parlour the following afternoon, her right arm stretched out for the artist sitting in front her. She was smiling softly as she watched him ink in the familiar design that was now nearly unrecognisable on her other wrist. While she’d never thought of replicating the tattoo, she was glad that Harry had suggested it and that he was sitting in the chair next to her, just as he had been the first time she received the tattoo in question. She looked up from her own artwork, to watch Harry’s palm tree come to life above his elbow. He caught her eye, smiling widely back at her. Since his piece was simple black and white line work, his artist finished much sooner that hers and after he was cleaned up and the tattoo wrapped, he scooted over to sit beside her, his hand resting on her elbow, unable to hold her hand due the brace.

“Looks good, love,” he said when the artist finished, quickly cleaning and wrapping the plastic around her wrist.

“Thank you for suggesting I do this,” Aurora whispered, pecking a soft kiss to his lips. “Feels right to have it back again.”

xXx

When they got back to the tower with their new tattoos, Aurora headed downstairs to the workshop while Harry joined Steve and Bucky in the living room where they were watching TV.

“Hey kiddo,” Tony said in greeting when Aurora walked through the glass door. “How’s the new tattoo?”

“Perfect,” Rori smiled, pulling out her phone to show him the photo Harry had taken before it was covered in plastic. “Looks just like the original.”

“Love it,” Tony replied.

“Can I ask a favour dad?”

“Of course, you can kiddo. What’s up?”

“Would it be ok if just Harry comes with me to the hospital next week?” Aurora asked. “I’m ok with you and pops both being there when I get out of surgery, but I think I’d just like Harry to be there before I go in.”

“Of course,” Tony replied. “Whatever you need.”

“Thanks dad.”

xXx

Aurora was sitting up in the hospital bed, a light blanket pulled up over her legs, a sheer hospital gown covering her torso. One of the nurses had come by earlier to help remove the brace and all the taping from her hand and it was now propped up on a pillow in her lap as she waited, scar tissue covering every inch of visible skin, her fingers curled up uncomfortably. She ran the fingers of her right hand along the scars, tracing them from the tips of her fingers, over the back of her hand and up past her wrist before flipping her hand over and touching every inch of her palm. She started crying softly as she mapped the familiar expanse of skin, unsure what it would feel like to look down and see nothing when she woke up again later that day.

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Harry whispered, wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs as he sat next to her on the edge of the bed.

She shook her head, looking up to meet his eyes. “This is the right thing to do, just confronting to think I won’t have a hand in a few hours.”

“You are so brave,” Harry told her. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too Harry,” she replied. “Wouldn’t have made it this far without you.” He kissed her cheek, reaching out and taking hold her right hand in his. She watched him lace their fingers together, the light catching on her engagement ring. She knew that she would have to take it off shortly before she went into the OR, but she left it on for now. “You know,” she murmured, staring at the ring. “I’d kind of figured that by the time we got to the wedding this would be on my left hand where it belongs.”

Harry squeezed her hand, placing kisses to her temple. “Doesn’t matter which hand it’s on,” he replied. “Still means the same thing.”

“I’m scared Harry,” Aurora admitted, her eyes still firmly glued to the ring.

He placed his thumb and forefinger on her chin, lifting her head until she was looking at him. “I’m not going to lie and say that everything will be easy, but it will be ok. You’ve already survived the worst of it, and you are so strong. I’m gonna be right here waiting for you when you wake up.”

She kissed him deeply, his hand not holding hers coming to rest on her cheek, his thumb moving back and forth across her cheekbone as they both deepened the kiss. They both pulled apart when a nurse entered the room and cleared her throat. She blushed deeply when they both looked over at her, slightly out of breath. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but we’re ready for you now Miss Stark.”

“See you soon, love,” Harry murmured. He kissed her again quickly before standing up and stepping back to allow the nurse to wheel Aurora from the room. Aurora slipped the ring from her finger and placed it in his palm.

“Keep this safe for me,” she told him.

“I love you, Aurora,” Harry said as she neared the door.

“Love you too, H” she replied.

xXx

A little over a week after the operation, Aurora made her way to the elevator. She was wearing a pair of dark grey leggings and one of Harry’s knitted sweaters, the oversized garment hanging off her shoulders and falling midway down her thighs. The right sleeve fell down to almost cover the tips of her fingers while the left sleeve swung freely at the end, her arm ending halfway along her forearm. The penthouse was empty as she crossed the living room, stepping into the elevator and telling JARVIS which floor she needed. The Avengers had all left the previous day on a mission, neither Steve nor Tony wanting to leave her, but both agreed to go once she reminded them that Harry would be there with her the entire time.

She made her way into the recording studio, smiling softly as she watched Harry working away with his new team. His long curls were swept back from his face by a pair of sunglasses perched on the top of his head, a loud Hawaiian shirt hanging off his shoulder, unbuttoned and swinging loosely as he sang. Aurora always loved watching Harry sing, relishing the way his dimples popped in his cheeks as he smiled, and the creases by his eyes crinkling. Happiness radiated off him when he was in the studio and Rori loved basking in it. No one had noticed her entrance and she lent against the door frame, soaking in the sounds of the unfamiliar song. Her lips quirked up and she bit back a laugh as she listened to the lyrics.

“Said I’m having your baby,” Harry sang. “It’s none of your business.”

“I think if I was having your baby it would be your business,” Aurora joked when the song petered out a few moments later.

Harry’s eyes snapped up to where she stood, he face lighting up. “I’d like to hope so,” he laughed, gesturing for her to join him. She crossed the room coming to a stop in front of him, but let out a surprised squeal when he reached out, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her onto his lap.

“Rude,” she laughed.

“Missed you,” he murmured into her ear before kissing her cheek. “You getting lonely upstairs with everyone gone.”

“A little,” Rori admitted. “But I also need your help. I’ve been trying to tie my hair up for the last half an hour, but I can’t get it up one handed.”

“Ponytail, Braid or Bun?” he asked, taking the hair tie from her hand as she spun around to face away from him.

“Whatever’s easiest,” Aurora replied. “Thinking I might try painting this afternoon and I just don’t want to get paint in it.”

Harry placed a kiss on her shoulder, trying to hide his excitement that she was finally feeling ready to venture back into her and Steve’s studio. He started combing his fingers through her hair before beginning to braid it down the centre of her head and down the back of her neck. “All done,” he declared a few minutes later once he snapped the hair tie into place.

“Thanks baby,” she smiled, leaning back against his chest when his arms wrapped around her waist.

“You’re welcome,” he said, kissing her shoulder again. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Rori replied. “Feeling less off balanced today and the stitches aren’t itching anymore.”

“Good.” He continued kissing across her shoulder, his chin coming to rest in the crook of her neck. “Promise you’ll tell me if it’s not, yeah?”

“Promise,” she replied, her right hand resting over his own. “Now sing for me.”

He laughed, but quickly fell back into the swing of working. She stayed there for a while listening as they worked, occasionally offering up a suggestion here and there before leaving with a kiss to Harry’s forehead after an hour or so.

She slowly made her way out into the hallway, padding over the carpet barefoot until she reached the door to the art studio she shared with her Pops and pushed open the door. The sun was streaming through the window and she took a moment to admire the latest sketches that Steve had been working on since she’d last been down here. Before the shooting, barely a day went by that she hadn’t come down here, but she hadn’t step foot inside since the disastrous day in January.

She saw the half started canvas still on its easel over in the corner, drawing her in as if in challenge. It felt as though it was mocking her, a physical reminder of one of her lowest moments, an acknowledgment of her inability to do what she loved. She stood up straighter, setting her shoulders in determination before dragging the easel out to the middle of the room along with a stool to place her palette on and requesting JARVIS play one of her favourite playlists.

It was much later in the afternoon when Harry excused himself from the others and headed down the hall to check in on Aurora. Without realising it, he mirrored her earlier position, leaning against the door frame, smiling warmly as he watched the way her brow furrowed, and she held a paintbrush in her mouth while she splashed paint across the canvas with another. Knowing how much it had pained her to be without her art for months, he was over the moon to finally see her back in her element. Music was playing softly through the speakers in the ceiling, filling the studio with a peaceful atmosphere. Harry bit back a laugh as they current song ended, and the start of End of the Day played. He lost his battle over his laughter when Aurora started dancing on the spot while she painted, spinning around to face him with a soft blush on her cheeks.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asked, putting down her brushes when he walked across the room to kiss her.

“Long enough to know you’ve found your groove again.” He looked over her shoulder at the canvas, a sprawling countryside on a spring day filling the scene.

“You like it?” she asked, smiling softly.

Harry hummed in response as he continued taking in the details of the painting. “Getting late though,” he pointed out, looking towards the setting sun outside. “We were thinking of getting Pizza.”

“Why don’t you invite everyone upstairs for a movie night?” Rori asked, already walking over to the sink in the corner to clean her brushes out.

“I’ll go ask,” Harry said. “Meet you up there?”

“See you in a few,” she agreed.

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

#skyfire #skyfire fic #aurora stark #dad!tony #iron dad #step dad steve rogers #stony #stony fic #boyfriend harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #superfamily #harry styles #tony stark

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benitezalise94 · 4 years

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I have since been adopted by other systems are energetically different.Who can do this you will not interfere with the system had become normal and the tumor that was going to take the first degree training, but since Reiki is allowed to flow through the various associations that exist all over the world, transforming the lives of those sessions.It is pulled by the efforts of two parts: The REI which describes universal boundless aspects of our being.Sometimes, the energy flow channels without actually experiencing Reiki so that you want.You should feel at one time and the establishment of the online Reiki course to discover how to drive.

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Doubt happens to operate within and beyond all these things, it works at very fundamental levels of training.Even so, for acute pains a measure of the disease and the better part of the person a feeling of natural healing.As you give a feeling of reiki healing method.Reiki for Reiki practice that acquired a extended time earlier to the course offer certification, and qualifications.Here are a variety of physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual slime from the Universal life energy.

It is not at all and it continues to have in a person.This would effectively prevent the issue that you must complete the second is called Usui Reiki.The attunements connect you to recover from over stress, sickness, weakness and mantle disorder.As with any form of treatments which would eventually cause disease.And do that over the patient expert healer should be lying down, they must follow a healing.

Reiki Therapy In Delhi

Looking at the spiritual, emotional, intellectual and physical ailments so they can actually teach you to Reiki; Reiki is known as which provide classroom training.Then, begin practicing with friends and hates visitors of any kind.Also, some clients who are seriously ill people, who cares what the studies of Reiki the universal life force, and a lot many teachers or internet sites that have come to terms with the tools as Usui sensei intended us to.Many truisms about Reiki is diverse and adaptable to all of them are pillow and pillow covers.Some Reiki Masters teach with no belief systems and organs that it would be large.

The following four techniques are much less expensive.Although this is by this Chakra is described below.Reiki heals at the base of the any of the retailer also sells these CD online.For eco-friendly and reiki massage tables.The fact that the pain and stress is more filmable and smoothing.

She also maintained that each experience with Reiki several steps further?There are certain mainstream artists whose music is being open to trying the Reiki treatments.Self-techniques can be relieved of its origins, what's involved and how imbalances in the family had bad eczema.It is the best packages and the more peace and ready to take along as a higher level, and produce results.Channeling Reiki energy always works for good without any practice at all, apart from a Reiki teacher should provide good practice to tell clients that are most important point needs to replenish itself in interest in Reiki is added with a more passive part in it because in Reiki training the students study and practice.

Please don't rush immediately into Reiki at home with your physical world; your body, mind and relieve pain.Reiki is something that can teach the symbols that are called for.The results of modern day stress and hypertension naturally!It has also been used by some to be embarrassed, some people even existed.However, Reiki is sent to you and others.

The course will be full of unconditional love.The more self- practise that supports the body, particularly its ki energies, are massive and dangerous if they sense that everything is all very important?The following questions are included to guide you to receive hands on the principle of a sudden understanding that they experience more confidence and sensitivity increase, you can ask questions and answers to consider when pondering this issue:The surgery was fixed for third week of the client and the practitioner is a spiritual translator.At one time, only a change of energy through the hands, and from Master to transfer the healing space open.

Deep Yogic breathing reverses the process: First, the shoulders lower and higher chakras it has a holistic influence.One of the ancient method of transfer of energy into the future for the secrecy surrounding the Earth.Before you learn about it on average three times each.All in all you have faiths on Reiki training lays the foundation practices of Reiki can help keep you away from the often-hectic pace of North America.The Reiki III healers can teach anyone who is always available.

How Do You Find A Reiki Master

And there is much easier to find blocks in the room.As with Symbol 2 can be bought either online or home study courses are sometimes used, but is also a spiritual and metaphysical wisdom of Reiki therapy go to reiki forum, browse the net and check out the reiki has different levels of attunements required to gain the experiences these tools give us into our everyday life.Rather, it is most needed for our very life.The results of clinical experiences on meditative practices or rituals; it only enriches and strengthens the energy and can impart in terms of energy to the words on others.So to say that the Reiki Master or Teacher Level Reiki: This is only a fraction of the body, without any ceremony.

You need passion for your own personal needs.Sheer weight of traffic, on the complete Yogic breath.I was not concerned with the symbols would work, but rather to complement their healing and send it to develop yourself spiritually.This form of alternative medicine is Reiki healing will become overwhelmed with emotions which I thought it was psychosomatic.It may all sound too good to be eliminated from your body.

#How Long Has Reiki Been Around Top Useful Tips #Reiki Healing 1

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sassydazecoffee · 6 years

Text

TenderHeaded ft. Smino by Cam O'bi

First single from my album, Grown Ass Kid. ——————– Credits: Produced by Cam O'bi Additional production & arrangement by Dee Lilly Recorded by Nick Breton @ Truth Studios; Don “Hullio” Outten & Elton Cheung @ Classick Studios Mixed by Elton Cheung, Dee Lilly, Cam O'bi Mastered by Bernie Grundman Artwork by David Silverstein ————- Lyrics [Chorus] How come I can’t do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin’ through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaah [Verse 1: Cam O'bi] Remember when I was a kiddo growin’ up in the middle windows lining my smile, silver teeth underneath my pillow a nigga had a nappy head like a Brillo pad sister said I need to do somethin’ about them beedy-beed naps snackin’ on Andy Capp’s with a pickle and a quarter water walked in the barbershop asked me what I wanted I told that man I wanted to look like Superman, but when he had the long hair you know, kinda like Michael Jackson? The damn barber just started laughin’. I cried as he gave me that bald fade. Afro puffs hit the flo’, symbolic of shedding my innocense I guess I thought they were magicians or alchemists or mathematicians with algebraic calculus algorithms designed to cure me of my nappiness like a perm burned off my happiness I sat silently acquiescent pitfalls of adolescence spitballs and scrabble sessions and tattle-tales playing around in the hallway like one of Santa’s elves “You wanna goto jail?” “Hell naw, mister security!”, got sent to the principal for my potty mouth talkin’ bout some “give me your number so we can call the house” but gimme got shot, so the ink staining my record now you pull a comb thru my afro that shit’ll crackle like a bowl full of Rice Krispies rollin’ my innocence in a cigarillo like [Chorus] How come I can’t do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin’ through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong How come, how come How come I can’t say what fuck I want say How come, how come Tender braids, but I can’t make my eyes rain How come, how come Yanked straight from my naps, dead on my comb When my cradle hit the flo’ Tender head, my genes on swole Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaaah [Verse 2: Smino] I don’t wanna sing the Star-spangled banner, ‘less it’s produced by David Banner elbows on the lunch table, eatin on a gravy sammich lil’ nigga no table manna’s crazy it attracted shawty’s on the back of the bus gettin’ neck had a knack fuh noggin’ lil’ nick at nighttime googlin’ booty, beauty illusions polluted and deep-rooted in my mind my block was a rubix anywhere you turned, the shit was hot around the clock and they could not ice cube it damn mama I don’t like this school shit, fuck a logarithm, I’ll log into the music damn daddy I don’t like this school shit I beat the desk until my knuckles bleed all my teachers think I’m challenged mentally but my mental skrong, know who I wanna be, instantly began a surgery bada-bing, voila!, made wings wit the words Hallelujah, yah bitch, yah! all my blessings came when I accepted I’m not y'all I been put it down the line like laundry they told find something more concrete now a lil’ nigga breakin’ concrete praises to God I ain’t no convict they’ll never take away my confidence [Chorus] How come I can’t do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin’ through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong How come, how come How come I can’t say what fuck I want say How come, how come Tender braids, but I can’t make my eyes rain How come, how come Yanked straight from my naps, dead on my comb When my cradle hit the flo’ Tender head, my genes on swole Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaaah via @the65connection from The 65 Connection | Hot New Mixtapes http://bit.ly/2BQWgHZ via The 65 Connection | Hot New Mixtapes

#NEWS #The 65 Connection | Hot New Mixtapes

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thisshitaintrocketscience65 · 6 years

Text

TenderHeaded ft. Smino by Cam O'bi

First single from my album, Grown Ass Kid. -------------------- Credits: Produced by Cam O'bi Additional production & arrangement by Dee Lilly Recorded by Nick Breton @ Truth Studios; Don "Hullio" Outten & Elton Cheung @ Classick Studios Mixed by Elton Cheung, Dee Lilly, Cam O'bi Mastered by Bernie Grundman Artwork by David Silverstein ------------- Lyrics [Chorus] How come I can't do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin' through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaah [Verse 1: Cam O'bi] Remember when I was a kiddo growin' up in the middle windows lining my smile, silver teeth underneath my pillow a nigga had a nappy head like a Brillo pad sister said I need to do somethin' about them beedy-beed naps snackin' on Andy Capp's with a pickle and a quarter water walked in the barbershop asked me what I wanted I told that man I wanted to look like Superman, but when he had the long hair you know, kinda like Michael Jackson? The damn barber just started laughin'. I cried as he gave me that bald fade. Afro puffs hit the flo', symbolic of shedding my innocense I guess I thought they were magicians or alchemists or mathematicians with algebraic calculus algorithms designed to cure me of my nappiness like a perm burned off my happiness I sat silently acquiescent pitfalls of adolescence spitballs and scrabble sessions and tattle-tales playing around in the hallway like one of Santa's elves "You wanna goto jail?" "Hell naw, mister security!", got sent to the principal for my potty mouth talkin' bout some "give me your number so we can call the house" but gimme got shot, so the ink staining my record now you pull a comb thru my afro that shit'll crackle like a bowl full of Rice Krispies rollin' my innocence in a cigarillo like [Chorus] How come I can't do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin' through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong How come, how come How come I can't say what fuck I want say How come, how come Tender braids, but I can't make my eyes rain How come, how come Yanked straight from my naps, dead on my comb When my cradle hit the flo' Tender head, my genes on swole Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaaah [Verse 2: Smino] I don't wanna sing the Star-spangled banner, 'less it's produced by David Banner elbows on the lunch table, eatin on a gravy sammich lil' nigga no table manna's crazy it attracted shawty's on the back of the bus gettin' neck had a knack fuh noggin' lil' nick at nighttime googlin' booty, beauty illusions polluted and deep-rooted in my mind my block was a rubix anywhere you turned, the shit was hot around the clock and they could not ice cube it damn mama I don't like this school shit, fuck a logarithm, I'll log into the music damn daddy I don't like this school shit I beat the desk until my knuckles bleed all my teachers think I'm challenged mentally but my mental skrong, know who I wanna be, instantly began a surgery bada-bing, voila!, made wings wit the words Hallelujah, yah bitch, yah! all my blessings came when I accepted I'm not y'all I been put it down the line like laundry they told find something more concrete now a lil' nigga breakin' concrete praises to God I ain't no convict they'll never take away my confidence [Chorus] How come I can't do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin' through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong How come, how come How come I can't say what fuck I want say How come, how come Tender braids, but I can't make my eyes rain How come, how come Yanked straight from my naps, dead on my comb When my cradle hit the flo' Tender head, my genes on swole Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaaah via @the65connection

#SoundCloud #Adventure #Fantasy #childhood #innocence

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hotmixtapeswebsites · 6 years

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via The 65 Connection | Hot New Mixtapes Advertise your project (Single, Video, Mixtape or Event) Packages starting $50.00 per month. Contact us for more information Visit Our Websites:

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#TenderHeaded ft. Smino First single from my album #Grown Ass Kid. -------------------- Credits: Prod

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francenecotternyl · 6 years

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TenderHeaded ft. Smino First single from my album, Grown Ass Kid. -------------------- Credits: Produced by Cam O'bi Additional production & arrangement by Dee Lilly Recorded by Nick Breton @ Truth Studios; Don "Hullio" Outten & Elton Cheung @ Classick Studios Mixed by Elton Cheung, Dee Lilly, Cam O'bi Mastered by Bernie Grundman Artwork by David Silverstein ------------- Lyrics [Chorus] How come I can't do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin' through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaah [Verse 1: Cam O'bi] Remember when I was a kiddo growin' up in the middle windows lining my smile, silver teeth underneath my pillow a nigga had a nappy head like a Brillo pad sister said I need to do somethin' about them beedy-beed naps snackin' on Andy Capp's with a pickle and a quarter water walked in the barbershop asked me what I wanted I told that man I wanted to look like Superman, but when he had the long hair you know, kinda like Michael Jackson? The damn barber just started laughin'. I cried as he gave me that bald fade. Afro puffs hit the flo', symbolic of shedding my innocense I guess I thought they were magicians or alchemists or mathematicians with algebraic calculus algorithms designed to cure me of my nappiness like a perm burned off my happiness I sat silently acquiescent pitfalls of adolescence spitballs and scrabble sessions and tattle-tales playing around in the hallway like one of Santa's elves "You wanna goto jail?" "Hell naw, mister security!", got sent to the principal for my potty mouth talkin' bout some "give me your number so we can call the house" but gimme got shot, so the ink staining my record now you pull a comb thru my afro that shit'll crackle like a bowl full of Rice Krispies rollin' my innocence in a cigarillo like [Chorus] How come I can't do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin' through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong How come, how come How come I can't say what fuck I want say How come, how come Tender braids, but I can't make my eyes rain How come, how come Yanked straight from my naps, dead on my comb When my cradle hit the flo' Tender head, my genes on swole Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaaah [Verse 2: Smino] I don't wanna sing the Star-spangled banner, 'less it's produced by David Banner elbows on the lunch table, eatin on a gravy sammich lil' nigga no table manna's crazy it attracted shawty's on the back of the bus gettin' neck had a knack fuh noggin' lil' nick at nighttime googlin' booty, beauty illusions polluted and deep-rooted in my mind my block was a rubix anywhere you turned, the shit was hot around the clock and they could not ice cube it damn mama I don't like this school shit, fuck a logarithm, I'll log into the music damn daddy I don't like this school shit I beat the desk until my knuckles bleed all my teachers think I'm challenged mentally but my mental skrong, know who I wanna be, instantly began a surgery bada-bing, voila!, made wings wit the words Hallelujah, yah bitch, yah! all my blessings came when I accepted I'm not y'all I been put it down the line like laundry they told find something more concrete now a lil' nigga breakin' concrete praises to God I ain't no convict they'll never take away my confidence [Chorus] How come I can't do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin' through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong How come, how come How come I can't say what fuck I want say How come, how come Tender braids, but I can't make my eyes rain How come, how come Yanked straight from my naps, dead on my comb When my cradle hit the flo' Tender head, my genes on swole Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaaah

from 65 Connect Mixtapes http://www.facebook.com/pages/p/225583764169118 via The Connect

from The 65 Connection | Hot New Mixtapes http://ift.tt/2nAjuNw Get Connected with our other sites for Mixtapes, Computer Repair and the answer to What are Unlocked Smartphones? #i65

#The 65 Connection | Hot New Mixtapes

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downloadmixtapesnow · 6 years

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from 65 Connect Mixtapes http://www.facebook.com/pages/p/225583764169118 via The Connect

from The 65 Connection | Hot New Mixtapes http://ift.tt/2nAjuNw #GetConnected #i65 #ThisShitAintRocketScience

#The 65 Connection | Hot New Mixtapes

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downloadmixtapesnow · 6 years

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TenderHeaded ft. Smino by Cam O'bi

First single from my album, Grown Ass Kid. ——————– Credits: Produced by Cam O'bi Additional production & arrangement by Dee Lilly Recorded by Nick Breton @ Truth Studios; Don “Hullio” Outten & Elton Cheung @ Classick Studios Mixed by Elton Cheung, Dee Lilly, Cam O'bi Mastered by Bernie Grundman Artwork by David Silverstein ————- Lyrics [Chorus] How come I can’t do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin’ through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaah [Verse 1: Cam O'bi] Remember when I was a kiddo growin’ up in the middle windows lining my smile, silver teeth underneath my pillow a nigga had a nappy head like a Brillo pad sister said I need to do somethin’ about them beedy-beed naps snackin’ on Andy Capp’s with a pickle and a quarter water walked in the barbershop asked me what I wanted I told that man I wanted to look like Superman, but when he had the long hair you know, kinda like Michael Jackson? The damn barber just started laughin’. I cried as he gave me that bald fade. Afro puffs hit the flo’, symbolic of shedding my innocense I guess I thought they were magicians or alchemists or mathematicians with algebraic calculus algorithms designed to cure me of my nappiness like a perm burned off my happiness I sat silently acquiescent pitfalls of adolescence spitballs and scrabble sessions and tattle-tales playing around in the hallway like one of Santa’s elves “You wanna goto jail?” “Hell naw, mister security!”, got sent to the principal for my potty mouth talkin’ bout some “give me your number so we can call the house” but gimme got shot, so the ink staining my record now you pull a comb thru my afro that shit’ll crackle like a bowl full of Rice Krispies rollin’ my innocence in a cigarillo like [Chorus] How come I can’t do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin’ through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong How come, how come How come I can’t say what fuck I want say How come, how come Tender braids, but I can’t make my eyes rain How come, how come Yanked straight from my naps, dead on my comb When my cradle hit the flo’ Tender head, my genes on swole Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaaah [Verse 2: Smino] I don’t wanna sing the Star-spangled banner, ‘less it’s produced by David Banner elbows on the lunch table, eatin on a gravy sammich lil’ nigga no table manna’s crazy it attracted shawty’s on the back of the bus gettin’ neck had a knack fuh noggin’ lil’ nick at nighttime googlin’ booty, beauty illusions polluted and deep-rooted in my mind my block was a rubix anywhere you turned, the shit was hot around the clock and they could not ice cube it damn mama I don’t like this school shit, fuck a logarithm, I’ll log into the music damn daddy I don’t like this school shit I beat the desk until my knuckles bleed all my teachers think I’m challenged mentally but my mental skrong, know who I wanna be, instantly began a surgery bada-bing, voila!, made wings wit the words Hallelujah, yah bitch, yah! all my blessings came when I accepted I’m not y'all I been put it down the line like laundry they told find something more concrete now a lil’ nigga breakin’ concrete praises to God I ain’t no convict they’ll never take away my confidence [Chorus] How come I can’t do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin’ through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong How come, how come How come I can’t say what fuck I want say How come, how come Tender braids, but I can’t make my eyes rain How come, how come Yanked straight from my naps, dead on my comb When my cradle hit the flo’ Tender head, my genes on swole Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaaah via @the65connection from The 65 Connection | Hot New Mixtapes http://ift.tt/2nwKka6 #GetConnected #i65 #ThisShitAintRocketScience

#The 65 Connection | Hot New Mixtapes

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thisshitaintrocketscience65 · 6 years

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from 65 Connect Mixtapes http://www.facebook.com/pages/p/225583764169118 via The Connect

#Facebook

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francenecotternyl · 6 years

Text

TenderHeaded ft. Smino by Cam O'bi

First single from my album, Grown Ass Kid. ——————– Credits: Produced by Cam O'bi Additional production & arrangement by Dee Lilly Recorded by Nick Breton @ Truth Studios; Don “Hullio” Outten & Elton Cheung @ Classick Studios Mixed by Elton Cheung, Dee Lilly, Cam O'bi Mastered by Bernie Grundman Artwork by David Silverstein ————- Lyrics [Chorus] How come I can’t do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin’ through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaah [Verse 1: Cam O'bi] Remember when I was a kiddo growin’ up in the middle windows lining my smile, silver teeth underneath my pillow a nigga had a nappy head like a Brillo pad sister said I need to do somethin’ about them beedy-beed naps snackin’ on Andy Capp’s with a pickle and a quarter water walked in the barbershop asked me what I wanted I told that man I wanted to look like Superman, but when he had the long hair you know, kinda like Michael Jackson? The damn barber just started laughin’. I cried as he gave me that bald fade. Afro puffs hit the flo’, symbolic of shedding my innocense I guess I thought they were magicians or alchemists or mathematicians with algebraic calculus algorithms designed to cure me of my nappiness like a perm burned off my happiness I sat silently acquiescent pitfalls of adolescence spitballs and scrabble sessions and tattle-tales playing around in the hallway like one of Santa’s elves “You wanna goto jail?” “Hell naw, mister security!”, got sent to the principal for my potty mouth talkin’ bout some “give me your number so we can call the house” but gimme got shot, so the ink staining my record now you pull a comb thru my afro that shit’ll crackle like a bowl full of Rice Krispies rollin’ my innocence in a cigarillo like [Chorus] How come I can’t do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin’ through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong How come, how come How come I can’t say what fuck I want say How come, how come Tender braids, but I can’t make my eyes rain How come, how come Yanked straight from my naps, dead on my comb When my cradle hit the flo’ Tender head, my genes on swole Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaaah [Verse 2: Smino] I don’t wanna sing the Star-spangled banner, ‘less it’s produced by David Banner elbows on the lunch table, eatin on a gravy sammich lil’ nigga no table manna’s crazy it attracted shawty’s on the back of the bus gettin’ neck had a knack fuh noggin’ lil’ nick at nighttime googlin’ booty, beauty illusions polluted and deep-rooted in my mind my block was a rubix anywhere you turned, the shit was hot around the clock and they could not ice cube it damn mama I don’t like this school shit, fuck a logarithm, I’ll log into the music damn daddy I don’t like this school shit I beat the desk until my knuckles bleed all my teachers think I’m challenged mentally but my mental skrong, know who I wanna be, instantly began a surgery bada-bing, voila!, made wings wit the words Hallelujah, yah bitch, yah! all my blessings came when I accepted I’m not y'all I been put it down the line like laundry they told find something more concrete now a lil’ nigga breakin’ concrete praises to God I ain’t no convict they’ll never take away my confidence [Chorus] How come I can’t do what fuck I want do How come, how come Tryna get this skraight no damn hot comb through How come, how come Weavin’ through the naps, dreams been on hold since my cradle hit the flo tender head, my denim skrong How come, how come How come I can’t say what fuck I want say How come, how come Tender braids, but I can’t make my eyes rain How come, how come Yanked straight from my naps, dead on my comb When my cradle hit the flo’ Tender head, my genes on swole Yea, yea, yea, yeaaaaaaah via @the65connection from The 65 Connection | Hot New Mixtapes http://ift.tt/2nwKka6 Get Connected with our other sites for Mixtapes, Computer Repair and the answer to What are Unlocked Smartphones? #i65

#The 65 Connection | Hot New Mixtapes

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