#Event Turnstile

[fionayao2008]

Tripod Turnstile Overview Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, as well as Flap Turnstile( RS Security Co., Ltd: www.szrssecurity.com) are modern control devices for pedestrian passages. They are used in places where the entry as well as exit of people require to be managed, such as wise neighborhoods, canteens, hotels, museums, gymnasiums, clubs, subways, terminals, anchors, and so on place. Making use of Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, and Flap Turnstile can make the flow of people organized. Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, Flap Turnstile are used in combination with smart cards, fingerprints, barcodes and also various other recognition system devices to form an intelligent gain access to control channel control system; they are utilized in mix with computers, access control, participation, billing monitoring, ticket systems and various other software application to form a The intelligent Turnstile Gate detailed monitoring system can realize functions such as access control, attendance, consumption, ticketing, as well as current limiting. This Turnstile Gate monitoring system becomes part of the "all-in-one card" as well as is mounted at flows such as areas, factories, smart buildings, canteens, and so on. It can complete various administration features such as staff member card travel control, attendance at leave job as well as meals, and also eating. Tripod Turnstile system functions Fast as well as convenient: read the card in and out with one swipe. Utilize the authorized IC card and wave it in front of the smart Tripod Turnstile viewers to finish the Tripod Turnstile gate opening and charge recording work. The card analysis is non-directional and the analysis and composing time is 0.1 secs, which is practical and also rapid. Protection and confidentiality: Use background or regional confirmation, licensed issuance, and distinct identification, that is, the card can just be utilized in this system, and it is risk-free as well as private. Integrity: Card radio frequency induction, reputable and steady, with the capability to court as well as believe. Adaptability: The system can flexibly establish access and also leave control personnel authorizations, period control, cardholder credibility as well as blacklist loss coverage, adding cards as well as other features. Versatility: Through consent, the user card can be made use of for "one-card" management such as parking, attendance, accessibility control, patrol, intake, and so on, making it very easy to realize multiple uses one card. Simpleness: Easy to install, simple to connect, the software has a Chinese user interface and also is easy to run. Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, as well as Flap Turnstile( RS Security Co., Ltd: www.szrssecurity.com) are modern control gadgets for pedestrian flows. The use of Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, and also Flap Turnstile can make the circulation of individuals orderly. Make use of the authorized IC card as well as wave it in front of the smart Tripod Turnstile visitor to finish the Tripod Turnstile gate opening and charge recording work.

[bean-pole-art]

here are my 2 SoundRod sparkling OCs - Spotlight (left, she/her) and Turnstile (right, he/him), they're twins 💖

thank u to @spoks-illogical-art for helping me out with the lineart! my traditional sketches + notes under the cut

[spacemanswasteland]

Turnstile & Blood Orange's Alien Love Call changed my very life since the moment I heard it, the hold it had on me was SUPERNATURAL. So it only felt right, to remix it! Keep It Cosmic! 👽💫🛸

[itachikun]

i HATE HATE HATE facial recognition as a 2FA. send me a code via email. TEXT ME. do NOT ask for my face

[coff33andb00ks]

16 + Lando

16: only linking the pinkies together, not ready to let go completely

requests closed until I catch up <3

thank you to the three anons that requested this 😭

"Let's fucking go, baby."

Lando's excitement is contagious as he gets out of the car, barely giving you a chance to climb out before claiming your hand in his, his energy for the day ahead palpable even though he's standing still for the moment. Impatient while you get your bag, he hums softly to himself, and you recognize the song that had been playing on the way to the track.

It's his second ever pole and your first ever race since you started dating and he's almost too excited, nervous about the upcoming race and how you'll fare, worrying that he'll disappoint with his racing or that the fans won't accept you. He lets go of your hand and takes your bag for you, smiling when you tuck your hand in his elbow and stick close to his side as he guides you to the entrance. There are already cameras and you keep your expression neutral, smiling a little when he answers a fan's question that you are his girlfriend. Still holding onto him, you absentmindedly rub his bicep while he signs autographs on the way in, stepping back so you don't possibly ruin a fan's perfect photo. Onward, through the turnstile, his hand holding yours as he leads you through the milling crowd to the McLaren motorhome, where he's immediately met by Zak and Oscar.

You don't know where to go so you stay right there, halfway tucked behind him while the three talk about yesterday's events. Lando's fingers rub yours soothingly, his silent assurance that he's aware of your nervousness. Someone approaches and Lando introduces them, and you're relieved that you have someone to rely on to get you where you need to be, laughing when they joke that they're a horrible babysitter.

Your hands stay linked while the day's schedule is gone over, and you recognize his fingers slowly slipping from yours as others join the group, trainers and engineers that you've briefly met before but don't know well. Until just his pinky is linked with yours and you don't want to let go yet, the relationship still so new you're kind of obsessed but also he's your tether in this unknown world.

"You'll be okay," he whispers, turning to you and meeting your forehead with his lips. "We'll meet for lunch, promise."

"Pinky promise?" you ask softly, feeling him smile before he pulls back.

His pinky tightens around yours and he's grinning. "Pinky promise."

[bentwolioo]

Ok so why did Gerard wear the same costume for 6 shows???

Like a lot of people, I noticed the Aotearoa (NZ) & Australia tour drum head messages seemed to be about 9/11. The costume also tells a very specific story that lines up with this--and there was more to Melbourne Night 2 than Gerard deciding it was casual Friday. I'm gonna go through my personal interpretation and explain why I think MCR did this at the end of their tour. 

TLDR: This Is Not The End.

I will include image credits in the reblog since there are a lot!

AUCKLAND, March 11 2023

Based on the skirt suit and drumhead ‘FIX FAX FUCK YOU’, Gerard is dressed as an office worker. For simplicity I will refer to the costume as the Secretary, I see it as both a character and a metaphor. Auckland establishes the monotony and repetition of daily life prior to 9/11, ‘FIX FAX FUCK YOU’ showing an attitude of boredom unaware of the events to come. 

BRISBANE 1, March 13 2023

The main difference between Auckland and Brisbane 1 is the briefcase. This indicates the point in time--Auckland is the days before 9/11 and Brisbane 1 is the morning before the attacks begin. The secretary travels to work, thinking ‘Everything under Control’.

BRISBANE 2, March 14 2023

The drumhead message ‘Here Comes the AIRPLANE’ marks this as minutes or even seconds before the towers are hit. Brisbane 2 is the first time Gerard wears the coat, representing everyone taking cover. 

MELBOURNE 1, March 16 2023

I unfortunately could not find a good photo of Gerard wearing the coat from this show but you can see it on the floor behind him!

The Melbourne shows are as the towers collapse. Pretty straightforward from the Melbourne 1 drumhead ‘TERROR’. This show also had the only appearance of the umbrella, which I interpret as representing the rubble and destruction raining down. The umbrella is closed, showing the secretary is unprotected and ultimately killed when the towers fall. 

MELBOURNE 2, March 17 2023

It seemed odd at first that Melb 2 was the only show that Gerard didn’t wear a costume for, but I actually believe he still did. This is the key to my interpretation: Gerard is dressed as himself witnessing the towers collapse, on his way to work at Cartoon Network. This the only show on the Oceania leg where they played Skylines and Turnstiles*, the song Gerard wrote immediately after 9/11. The drumhead ‘BARK BARK BARK’ makes you picture, a chained dog, representing the powerless horror of only being able to watch as the destruction unfolds--the deeply personal experience that drove Gerard to form MCR. 

SYDNEY 1, March 19 2023

Blood!!!! At Sydney 1, we see the continuing aftermath of the 9/11 attacks. The secretary has died but keeps moving, picking up her briefcase and carrying on. This could be showing how a lot of people’s faith in the US government and in the world died, but life had to find a way to move on. 

SYDNEY 2, March 20 2023

At Sydney 2, the addition of Gerard’s white contacts shows the Secretary decaying--but she has not stopped. Frank changed the drumhead message from ‘UNKILLABLE’ to ‘UNKILLABLES’, expanding the meaning from the context of his accident in Sydney to include the band, the fans, and on a wider level everything MCR represents. 

I think all of this is a metaphor for the band’s career in multiple ways. Firstly, the Secretary being undead of course reflects MCR’s return, and her zombified appearance aligns with the imagery of their new era (decay, swarm, the destroyed buildings of the stage set). Secondly, it is very interesting to me that they did this sequence of costumes and drumheads at the end of their headlining tour, rather that at the start. The story they told seems to imply a rebirth--MCR was ‘born’ out of the trauma, pain and confusion of 9/11, so the fact that they represented the start of the band on stage signifies a second beginning. 

(Thank you for reading to the end and if I got anything wrong please let me know!)

*EDIT 1 (23/03/23): They actually also played Skylines at Brisbane 2. I do think the position of Skylines in the Melb 2 set is still significant. They played it as the first encore song which mirrors it being the first MCR song and written shortly after 9/11.

EDIT 2 (30/03/23): So actually 8 shows of Secretary Gerard when you include Japan! Tokyo and Osaka analysis here

[chamomiletealeaf]

Based on a True Event

So a few months ago my family went to Busch Gardens and I wanted to see the penguins before they closed so my family and I went back in but our tickets wouldn't scan. We got the tickets from my dad since he was working there. The people were super rude and wouldn't let my mom in and told her to go all the way to the back of the line and it took us forever to get in.

But imagine this with Simon, and he makes it all better.

Disclaimer: I'm not trying to hate on customer service workers. I am a customer service worker myself, this is just my experience with the Busch Gardens people lol.

Warnings: none :) just a bunch of fluffiness and Simon being in love with you.

You convinced Simon to take you to an amusement park you've been dying to go to. When he finally said yes you were ecstatic and couldn't wait to have fun with him in one of your favorite places.

"Si come on! Hurry before the line fills up!" You pull him along, wanting so badly to get into the park.

"Alright alright I'm coming." Simon grumbles, but he can't help but smile at your giddiness.

"They have penguins here! Can we go there first? Please? I want to see them so bad they're so cute!" You beamed up at him in the line to get into the park.

"Of course love whatever you want." He says with a smile.

You two were next in line to have your tickets scanned by the workers who looked like they'd rather be anywhere but there.

Not wanting to upset them further, you quietly held your phone out to scan the ticket.

Beep

The scanner makes a chiming noise and a big red "X" comes up on the reader.

"Ticket's no good." The worker says emotionless, not even looking up at you.

"What?" You ask panicking, looking at Simon for help.

"Here try mine." Simon says, stepping in front of you to scan his ticket.

Beep

The scanner dings again, but this time it was a happier tone and a green checkmark shows up.

"You're good, have a great day sir. You miss are gonna have to go to the back of the line and try again or leave. NEXT!" The worker says, and you raise your eyebrows in shock.

"Wait so he can go in but I can't? Can't you try again? Please we've been waiting all day to be here." You plead with the worker, sadness filling your eyes at the thought of not being able to see the cute little penguins you've been dying to see swim and waddle around.

"Sorry miss, you can try buying another ticket for another day or you can leave. You're holding up the line." The worker says, scanning other people's tickets and not looking at you.

Your eyes start to fill with tears of frustration and sadness knowing that Simon was going on deployment soon and you don't know when else you would be able to do this with him again. You look up at Simon looking devastated and he can't take it.

That's when he steps in.

The worker senses his presence and looks up at him. Simon crosses his arms and looks down at him, intimidating the guy so much that he actually makes eye contact with you two for the first time.

"Listen mate, the missus here has been waiting ages to get in here, and I'm never one to leave my woman unsatisfied. So you're either gonna let her in with me, or I'm gonna have to find a way to get her in myself." Simon stares down at the smaller man, who is now showing a fearful expression instead of a bored and uninterested one upon seeing Simon's scars and tattoos let alone his towering size.

And without another word the worker opens the turnstile and rushes you two through.

"Have a nice day you two!" He says, as if he wasn't shitting his pants right now at Simon's threat.

"Yeah that's what I thought." Simon grumbles under his breath.

You jump with joy and kiss Simon's cheek.

"Yay! Thank you honey!" You chime. "Let's see the penguins!" You say, practically pulling Simon's arm off rushing him along.

"Ok sweetheart I'm coming." He laughs.

"That was really hot." You say, leaning into his arm.

"What was?" He asks with a smirk, wanting to hear you say it.

"Sticking up for me. You're hot when you're all big and scary." You say with a giggle.

"Well of course, like I said, I'm never one to leave my missus unsatisfied. In any way." He whispers into your ear with a smirk while he squeezes your waist and you blush at his innuendo.

Then you spot the penguins and you squeal with excitement.

"Simon look! the babies!"

You run up to the tank to admire the little penguins. They were African penguins. Small and cute.

"Oh Simon, look at their little waddles! How cute are they!" You coo at the penguins watching as they waddle and swim around in their tank.

"Funny little blokes aren't they." Simon says, but he's not looking at the penguins.

Simon is watching you.

Simon stands next to you and admires your joy and how much you glow when you're happy like this. It's something he lives for. It's why he risks his life out on the battlefield every deployment. So you can have a fulfilling life. Everything Simon does is for you, and he can sleep better at night knowing that even though he's murdered, even though he's done heinous things, you will always be the one good thing that keeps him from falling into the darkness.

As Simon gets lost in his thoughts and love for you, a penguin waddles it's way up to you behind the glass.

"Simon! baby get a picture! Look at this little sweetie!" You say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to pull his phone out to snap a picture of you and the penguin.

The penguin flaps his wings playfully and you lean down to it's level and turn your head, making a kissy face pretending to give the penguin a kiss on the head.

Simon takes the picture and immediately makes it his lock screen and home screen.

You walk up to him to see the photo and smile.

"It's perfect! He's the cutest, sweetest little baby isn't he?" You ask and Simon just nods and smiles, thinking that you're actually sweetest thing.

Then, a penguin waddles out with a feather pattern that looks like it's wearing an eye mask. The penguin was white with black splotches of feathers on his body, but it's head was black, with a white mask around the eyes.

You notice it, and you gasp.

"Simon! It's you!" You excitedly exclaim and tap his arm getting him to look.

"It's a Ghost penguin!" You say, and he laughs out loud at that.

"Oh baby c'mon you gotta take a picture with it. Please? For me? It'll be so cute!" You plead, and how can Simon resist your glittering eyes and the crinkle in your nose from your smile.

"Ok ok. Just one picture though." And he walks up to the tank to pose with the penguin and you snap a picture, immediately sending it to Johnny and making it your lockscreen and homescreen as well.

Simon comes back to your side and you show him the picture, which earns another laugh out of him.

"Thank you honey." You tell Simon.

"For what?" He asks.

"For doing this for me. For being the best boyfriend in the world. For showing me what real love is like." You say with a smile, and Simon looks down at you.

Simon isn't one for PDA, but there was something about you in this moment that he couldn't resist kissing you right there in front of the penguins and all those around the exhibit.

"You're welcome my love." Simon whispers and smiles against your forehead after breaking the kiss.

You two spent the rest of the day walking around the park, forcing Simon to go on rides with you, and occasionally passing the penguins again where Simon buys you a little stuffed penguin that you named "Ghost", after the penguin that looked like Simon with his mask in the exhibit.

And that night, you two fell asleep in each other's arms with little penguin Ghost between you, exhausted from the long day of walking and fun, knowing that tomorrow you would both awaken in the morning seeing the one thing you both live to see:

And that's each other.

[vignellicenter]

Please join us for our next Open Houses! March 20-21, 2024 10am-4pm.

The NYC subway map that never was. Or at least it was never implemented.

The NYC Subway graphics are some of the most requested artifacts from the Vignelli archives. We acquired this unique “verbal map” aka “The Directory” aka the “How to get there” map in 2022. Our archivist put it on display for the first time in 50 years at our Open Houses in September 2022!

 “The Verbal Map described how to reach a destination, which train to get, where to change, and when to get out.” – Massimo Vignelli [comment on Michael Bierut’s essay “Mr. Vignelli Map” for Design Observer]

Printed on very glossy paper in full color, this map is large like the station size maps. Printed in two parts [top and bottom] each half measuring 29.5” x 47.5”.

In the Graphic Standards Manual on Page 3 “Diagram of Basic Sign Distribution” it describes the various maps to be installed:

Maps: System maps (implemented, the famous one),

neighborhood map (not implemented),

‘How to get there’ map (not implemented but we have the prototype!)

From the Graphics Standards Manual on page 75, “The Directory”:

“The directory is designed to help a passenger find his “Destination” and “How to get there” quickly and easily. Each station will have its own directory listing all other station alphabetically and numerically. Each station will be followed by the color disc designating he trains that stop there. If there is no direct train, transfer information will follow the station name. This directory will be placed at all important points in the subways station both inside and outside the turnstiles.”

We also have the Dekalb Av Signage Study “analyzed and completed by Joan Charysyn and Virginia Macintosh” for Unimark International in 1971 which shows a mockup of the various maps and states “A directory and three maps will eventually be in use in all subway stations.”

Be sure to join us for our next Open Houses and see what other surprises you can discover! Learn more opn our events page: https://www.rit.edu/events/vignelli-center-spring-open-house

Image descriptions:

Detail of “verbal map” aka “The Directory” aka the “How to get there” map

image of entire map

Video clip of map

Photo of Open Houses with logo

vintage 35mm slide of detail of “verbal map”

NYCTA Graphics Standards Manual pg. 75 “The Directory”

NYCTA Graphics Standards Manual pg. 75 “The Directory”

Slideshow of Dekalb St study: coversheet, Directory from Grand Central, System Map, Neighborhood map, and 5 Boroughs map

Vintage 35mm slide of 57th Street station signage

Vintage 35mm slides of 57th Street station signage

[bombsonboard]

the day after yesterday: chapter three

Summary: Time travel is volatile, dangerous, playing god. And then sometimes  it drops you in just the right place at the perfect time. It’s a matter of perspective. You decide.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (no Y/N)

Word Count: 4.4k

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Read it on AO3

A/N: So my scheduled post didnt work! But i’m still uploading this on Wednesday, just a little later than planned lol. Hope you’ve all had a good week and sorry for the lil bit late chaper!

You stood outside ‘Stillman’s Gymnasium’ feeling grateful it was a warm summer’s day and you didn’t have to brave the New York cold without a jacket. Bucky said he’d meet you here, he cleaned the gym after hours in exchange for weekly boxing lessons, promising it would be all theirs so you could work on your escape in peace. 

Turns out, jumping the turnstile to get on the subway was a hell of a lot easier in the 1940s, it just took avoiding every man with a conductor hat, which the crowds made easy, and you made it to midtown. 

All alone, you let yourself take a breath. Yes, you were stuck in the wrong time, but with the hope of getting home, it was quite an astonishing thing. This place wouldn’t even be here in twenty years, bulldozed for apartments. Having the privilege to be here was something you could hardly fathom but you tried to let yourself enjoy it, at least for the time being.

It was too easy to imagine yourself having a life here, who could be waiting for? Maybe a good girl friend, or maybe some guy was picking you up to go and see a movie, one of those old ones that are only on at Christmas or Sunday afternoons. Your dress would be a bit cleaner, your hair pinned out of your face and you would see him approaching in the distance.

In your mind he had a kind smile on his face, a few roses, not too many and he would walk up to you and say:

“Steve is gonna kill me when he finds out I took his nice sketch paper, this better be worth it.” 

You blinked out of your fantasy to see the roses had flattened into a stack of paper and the kind smile you dreamed of was replaced by Bucky’s blank frown. He looked at you curiously.

“What?” He brushed his hair back with his free hand.

“Nothing” You felt caught out.

He shrugged, slowly growing used to your strange looks, and pulled a bunch of keys from out of his trouser pocket and slid them into the door. Unlocking it and pushing the door open with a clunk.

“After you.”

The smell of sweat and floor polish hit you like a wave as you stepped inside and Bucky locked the door behind the two of you. On the bare brick walls hung dozens of pictures of men in boxing gloves, raising their arms in victory. Along the surprisingly clean wooden floor punching bags were lined up, the rich brown leather cracked and beaten from excessive use and just waiting patiently to be used again. 

The great big boxing ring was the main event, a square stage of battered cream, held together by rows of red rope. You wondered if it was red on purpose. 

You pictured one of the boxing matches happening right there in front of you, the crowd of screaming men, praying for their bet to come clean and bracing for the final take down. The champion raising his godly fists, shirtless, shining and soaking in the sounds of his glory.

So, this is what Bucky wanted to be before the army? You tried to see him there, posing for one of the pictures on the wall with his grin plastered to his face. Though, maybe thinking of him shirtless and sweaty really wasn’t the most efficient thing you could be doing at the time.

“So…” Bucky comes to stand next to you, and offers you the paper

You take it with a quiet thank you.

“Do you have a-”

He hands you a pencil.

You swallow, turn around and begin to lay out the pieces of ‘borrowed’ sketch paper out on the glossy brown wood.. 

“There’s a desk in the office, y’know” Bucky points out, watching you crouch to the floor.

“That’s okay, I’m fine here.” 

He looks at you, confused and waiting for any kind of explanation you would offer.

“I’m gonna need…quite a bit of space.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows, accepting that’s all he was getting, and goes to lean against the wall.

You start your chicken scratches, numbers in the tiniest handwriting you could manage, but the nagging sensation of his presence there itches at you incessantly. You lift your head and notice he’s just standing there, watching you. 

“Don’t you have cleaning to do?” It came out a little more spiteful than you intended.

“Looks pretty spotless to me” He kept his eyes trained on you, not bothering to look around at all.

“Okay, so you don’t need to be here then?” You didn’t mind the company really, but why did it have to be him? It was better for you both if he just left you alone.

“I’m responsible for this place, how do I know you won’t mess it up?” Bucky narrowed his eyes at you.

“Christ, I don’t need a chaperone.” 

“I’m sure you don’t, spitfire” He scoffs “but I'm not leaving, so…” He gestures for you to get back to your work “Go on.”

Rolling your eyes with maximum effort you go back to work and start to lose yourself in the math. Spread out on the floor with your ass in the air probably wasn’t the most ladylike position but who cared, Bucky didn’t seem to make a comment.

You willed yourself to stop wondering about him for just a moment so you could focus on the task at hand. If you were going to figure out the coordinates to put into the GPS, you needed a start point. It was 1943, that you knew but, the specific date was what you really wanted. There wasn’t anything that showed you today’s date in your immediate vicinity, so your eyes wandered and landed, unfortunately, on Bucky, who had his feet propped up on the front desk, head stuck in a newspaper. 

"Is that today’s?” You ask from the floor.

“Yu-huh” He mumbles from his wall of news.

Of course he had the thing you were looking for. 

“...What’s the date on it?”

He folds over one corner so you could be victim to his blank stare. “You don’t know what day it is?”

You stare back. 

“11th June.” He supersedes.

“Thank you.” 

He flips his corner back up and you go back to your work silently.

“11th June 1943.” You mumble quietly as the numbers take over your head again.

Hour One

The silence didn’t last half as long as you hoped it would.

“So, how long does something like this normally take?” Bucky wonders after a while, as if you launched yourself into the wrong time all the time, you felt yourself getting offended until you remembered he had absolutely no idea. 

Scribbling down the total days you needed to travel you hid your face from Bucky.

“A while.” You hoped he didn’t hear the small crack in your voice. 

“Great. Maybe it’s enough time for me to figure out why you’re so weird.” He chuckled lightly.

Bucky Barnes, ladies man.

“Oh you’ll figure it out…in 29,209 days” You mumble under your breath, you didn’t mean for him to hear, but when you’re the only two people in a room, it’s hard to keep secrets.

Bucky shakes his head in amusement, ignorant of just how truthful you had just been, but he was quiet for a little while longer after that.

Hour Three

Eventually grew restless of the front desk and sauntered over to the back office. You wondered who might usually be found in there, some short and stubby gym manager, dark hair slicked back with wiry eyebrows that look so much like caterpillars they might crawl off his face. A cigar permanently between his lips. 

You cracked a smile at the image until you heard exactly what Bucky was doing in there. The crackle of a gramophone interrupts your thoughts and the smile falls from your face. You had no complaints about forties music, really, but you were convinced he was doing this on purpose, taunting you with warbling jazz.

With a frustrated grumble you threw down your pencil, abandoned your work and stalked over to the back office. He was there, leaning back on a chair with his arms crossed, eyes closed and absorbing the music echoing around the room. 

Sure, he looked peaceful, but there were bigger stakes here than Bucky Barnes enjoying a record. 

You rapped on the door forcefully but he didn’t jump to attention like you wanted.

Bucky slowly opens his eyes and looks up expectedly.

“Could you…turn it down?” You mimicked turning down a volume knob, and he looked at you blankly.

“Please.” It pained you to add.

“Turn it down?” He mimics your action, eyebrows furrowing. “And what’s that?”

“The music” You impatiently pointed it out and walked over to the small gramophone, singing pleasantly in the corner. It would be a relic any other day but right now it was just annoying you.

Shoot, no volume control you realized, it seemed people were just happy to hear music here, nevermind the volume. A little joy in a somewhat bleak time in history. 

You needed your peace though, one way or another.

“Could you just turn it off?” You turned to leave.

“If this is gonna take long, I’d like to have something to entertain myself.”

You stopped, breathing in and out to stop yourself from killing him before his inevitable death date.

“You don’t even have to be here” You crossed your arms across your chest.

He smiled at your irritation “Tell you what, I’ll give you a chance.”

While you were occupied with how he just had the audacity to patronize you, Bucky stood from the chair and took the trash can from the corner and placed it at the other end of the office from you.

“What are you doing?” You watched him closely.

He walked back over to you with a self- satisfied smile, taking his time as he stopped just inches from you, the tips of his shoes touching yours just about.

“Bucky?” You felt your heartbeat palpate, your chest go tight.

He wordlessly leaned past you to grab an old coffee mug full of pencils that sat on the desk behind you. Bucky pulled away to stand next to you and embarrassment fizzed in your stomach. Bucky smelt like leather and his mothers cooking.

“First one to get three pencils in a row in the trash can wins. If you win, I’ll turn it off and I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

You found that hard to believe and it must’ve shown on your face.

“...mostly,” He added. “But if I win, the music stays and you can’t say a thing about it.”

“Seriously?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, swee- spitfire.”

He looked at you with his blue as a cloudy sky eyes as you sized him up. It seemed fair and you were always one for a good bet, but the way he looked at you made you feel like he knew something you don’t. Figuring that look out would have you spinning for days.

“Do you need me to move it a bit closer?” He suggested condescendingly.

“Fine.” You grumbled.

“Ladies first.” He held the mug out to you and you grabbed three pencils with a roll of your eyes.

It had to be easy right? You didn’t have the worst hand eye coordination in the world but it wasn’t one of your most notable qualities. The only thing you had going for you was a desire for Bucky Barnes to keep quiet, and you were about to find out how good of a motivator that was.

You toss the first pencil and it lands in the trash can with a happy little clang. The second pencil was subject to pressure and bounced on the edge before landing safely inside, you celebrated inwardly, trying to hide how invested you were in a game of throwing pencils, but you were so close to victory, sweet victory.

One final pencil in your hand, you looked to Bucky “Any final words?” you ask smugly.

“I’m good.”  He stared straight ahead.

The last pencil is in the air and you swear you’ve never felt this tense in your life. Maybe apart from the time you landed in the 20th century by accident. Taunting you, it bounced off the edge like the second but this time it was the wrong way. You watched in disbelief as it clattered to the floor.

“Shit.” You muttered and tried to hide how actually sad you were to miss your final throw.

“I’d offer condolences but you were a little cocky at the end.” Bucky plucked three pencils from the pot.

He effortlessly tossed his pencils in without a second thought, one, two, three, in quick succession, giving you no time to think of a plan to sabotage him at all.

Bucky looked at you with a smile “I believe congratulations are in order.”

“Best of three?” You grasped at any chance he might give you.

Bucky just laughed. In your face. You let out a combination of a grumble and a sigh and stomped out of the office.

He had won, the music stayed.

Hour Five 

“C’mon you should take a break.”

Bucky had stayed mostly in the office, humming to his music. You had migrated to the boxing ring to lay out your findings. He had been leaning against the door, keeping his eye on you for the last five minutes.

“Can’t take a break.” You didn’t look up.

“You’ve been scribbling for like ten hours” He groans.

“I’m not scribbling” You retort, but looking down at the paper ‘scribbles’ was definitely an accurate word, not that he needed to know that.

“What are you doing then?”  

“I’m working out- ugh, stop it!” You needed to be more on the ball with his incessant questions.

“It’s for your own good”  You told him as sternly as you could manage.

“Yes Ma'am” He grins cheekily.

He moved from the doorway, you cursed yourself for having half your attention on him again.

“I don’t think you’ve ever taken a break in your life, you’re so…tightly wound.”

You had half a mind to tell him why you were really ‘tightly wound’ right there and then. But then the fatal implications and so on…blah blah blah. 

“I take breaks.”

“Hard to believe, you ever been to the movies? Or a dance, maybe?” His analyzing eyes felt like they could see right through you.

“Sure, I’ve been to dances.” You brushed him off and continued writing. Maybe they weren’t the dances he would be familiar with but you had been to some. They just played the Black Eyed Peas, not Vera Lynn.

“Really? Because you haven’t recognised a single song I've put on.”

Oh. He had you there. 

“Maybe I just like different music.”

“Who doesn’t like Dick Haymes?” 

You put your head back down, ignoring his teasing and diving back into work, and hopefully convincing him that you just weren’t interested in extracurriculars. 

“Don’t worry, Spitfire, I’ll get you dancing.”

Hour Eleven 

He had run out of records a couple hours ago and was now entertaining himself by standing by the entrance and using some spare paper to fashion a paper airplane and seeing how far he could throw it.

The boxing ring was covered in a blanket of math now, you sat cross legged in the center, surrounded by stretches of equations, statistics, and graphs, traveling along y axis and x axis, finding each coordinate you would need. You had worked this long before but after a day of exerting yourself physically, the strain was weighing heavily on your brain. 

You close your eyes for just a second but a rude and painful awakening comes from a sharp poke in the side of your head. 

“Sorry!” Bucky calls from across the room.

You sigh and stand, rubbing the side of your head “It’s fine, I needed to wake up anyways”

You were in the land before energy drinks, your go to when the numbers become squiggles in your eyes. 

“There somewhere that sells coffee around here?” You grumble.

“Um” Bucky points to the window and you see nothing but black.

How had you missed the sun going down? 

“Nevermind.” You ran a hand over your face, eyelids growing heavier by the second, but you knew you couldn't afford to sleep, not now.

But your brain was too exhausted to make sense of the final coordinates you needed and there was no point in half-assing this and ending up in the wrong time again. You had read in some study that regular breaks actually proved to help total productivity, as hard as it was for you to believe, you weren’t opposed to a little experimenting.

Tip toeing carefully over your working, you sat on the side of the boxing ring, waiting for productivity to strike.

Bucky abandoned his paper airplane to sit next to you. The air felt heavy around you and all you could feel was the incomprehensible weight on your shoulders. You had no idea what Bucky thought, you had hardly been nice to him. But the way he was looking at you made you think he just wanted to lighten your load, just a little bit.

“So, how's it going?” He asked after a minute.

“It’s…getting there.” You fiddled with your hands “Maybe.”

“You really are weird, y‘know?”

He was smiling at you, like he had just paid you a sweet as sugar compliment.

“Thanks, Bucky.” You gave your sarcastic gratitude.

With a sudden burst of energy, he practically waltzes to the back office, you watch with amused curiosity, and when he appears again, he’s carrying the gramophone with both hands, a record under his arm.

He places it happily on the corner of the ring, lifting the red rope, he slides under and stands in the boxing ring. What was he doing now?

“C’mon.” He tilted his head at you with a smile.

Waiting for you, you supposed.

“What?”

Bucky began to pile up you papers covering the space and you flew into a panic, if he messed them all up you’d have to spend another hour putting them back in the correct order so they made sense, you hadn’t thought to number your pages because you thought he wouldn’t be stupid enough to touch them. You thought wrong.

“Bucky!” You shrieked with wide eyes.

He looked at you, calmly “I’m keeping them in order.” 

His habit of reading your mind was getting pretty annoying. You follow his lead and shuffle under the ropes out of curiosity. With your math tower tucked safely to the side out of harm's way, you faced him with a confused look. 

“You needed to wake up, right?” 

“Are we going to box? Because I don’t think I'm up for that right now.” 

“No, no” He takes the record out of its sleeve with a flourish and places it on the gramophone, setting the needle down, humming with excitement.

An upbeat song begins to play, filling the hall with hearty trumpets and jiving double bass. It almost felt like they were in the room somewhere, hiding under the boxing ring with their instruments. 

You stood a meter away from Bucky, no closer and no farther. He held out his hand, you looked around you as if there was any one else he could offer it to. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, you could barely hear yourself above the music reverberating around the walls.

“Dancing.” He said it like it was obvious.

You didn’t think you get stage fright in the absence of an audience but Bucky had a funny way of making you nervous. For the third time, you were stuck gawking at his open palm. The vibrations of the music sent waves through the boxing ring, an invisible hand urging you closer to him.

“I don’t think that’s, maybe not-” You splutter.

You tried to think of the ripples in time this could cause but all you could really focus on was how much you wanted to feel his hand in yours again.

“Spitfire.”

When would you ever get the chance again? Never, that’s the answer. Sure, time might crumble before you but he looked so happy standing there, and he didn’t have many of those moments left.

“I swear every time you look at my hand it’s like you’ve seen a ghost.”

That’s what he had in store. Becoming the most infamous ghost story history had ever heard. You made peace with the universe in a surprisingly short amount of time and decided Bucky Barnes needed this more than anything else in this world.

“You gonna keep on staring at my hand or are you gonna take it?”

You take a few tentative steps towards him and slide your right hand into his left. He directs your other hand to rest on his shoulder and he slips his hand behind you. He tucked you closer to his chest with a shy smile and a gentle pull, you gazed up at him with bright eyes, a smile hiding in the corners of your mouth just waiting to blossom.

The next ten minutes, Bucky spends teaching you how to swing dance after coming to the conclusion you had never danced with anyone in your life.

“I have!” You insist after you step on his toe for the seventeenth time.

“Do they still have feet?” He asks in fake concern. 

“Ha Ha.” You poorly cover your genuine laughter, but you couldn’t hide the smile that had crept up on you anymore.  

Dancing with Bucky was a whirlwind in the most literal sense, you spun like a pinwheel in and out of his arms. You spent half the time spiraling into danger and he would be there to catch you as if there was no risk at all. 

When he kept you close, you could just about hear him counting to the music under his breath. It was an endless night of numbers for you, but you were convinced you had never been as dizzy as this before, dipping in and out and twisting up and down but you knew he wouldn’t let you fall. There was something transporting about it, bringing truth to your daydreams.

Dancing with him felt more like time travel, than well, actual time travel. 

You were glad he wasn’t enhanced yet, or he would hear your heartbeat picking up speed. For a moment he was all you could think about, and you finally had no complaints. 

Until you saw your papers topple and scatter on the floor, the jolting of the enthusiastic swing dance lesson had your precious work falling all over the floor. 

Quickly, it all got too much, heat rushed through you and the music was thumping in your head. He was too close to you, chests stuck together that should never have touched in the first place, Hands glued to his, you were trapped in his time and you were losing yourself by the second. If you didn’t let go now, who knows what you could cause. 

“Stop, stop!” You pulled away, ripped your hand from his, stumbling back and catching yourself on the ropes. 

“You alright?” Bucky spoke cautiously behind you.

“Yeah, yes I’m okay, I just-”

You swallowed down the bile rising from your stomach, and turned to see him standing there with concern in his eyes. Damn him. Damn him for helping you.

“I need to get this done.” You hurried to pick up your work and put it back into the correct order, scared to even look at him again.

“Okay.” He sighed quietly.

Hour Fifteen

Bucky had fallen asleep sometime ago.

The sun had come up again, the cloudless sky left the blinding beams of sunlight to burst through the windows.

His gentle snoring was the only sound as you held your breath,staring at the coordinates. Double checked, triple checked. All you had to do now was put them into the GPS and go.

But something was keeping you here, just for a few moments more. If it had anything to do with the man sleeping a couple meters away, you weren’t sure. All you could do was keep your eyes on the key to your exit.

“You worked through the night?” 

Okay, so he wasn’t asleep anymore.

You could disappear right there in front of his eyes and leave him questioning everything for the rest of his life, even though you thought it would be a little funny and maybe he deserved it, it was just too risky. 

“Done it before” You shrugged.

“Well my sleep was great, surprisingly sound” He began to walk over “Oh, and if my Ma asks where I was all night, do me a solid and say the recruitment center, something about long queues i don’t know.”

Hang on.

“You haven’t enlisted yet?” 

“No?” 

“Haven’t been to the recruitment center at all?”

“Been a bit busy” He chuckles

“Well you should go, go do it now”

“What?”

You thought he had gone by now.

“I’ll do it later, suppose” He shrugs

You looked at the coordinates. You could go home. But you couldn’t. Bucky hadn’t enlisted. And if he doesn’t join the army then, then Steve probably wouldn’t either and Captain America wouldn’t exist and maybe we didn’t win the war, maybe we lost all of the wars, the battle of new york, the battle of the earth.

Him not becoming a sergeant . you couldn’t begin to think of the implications.

Was it all your fault? 

“Been thinking about it a lot and I know my dad did and all that, but…I don't know”

You had currently beaten your record for amount of shits in a twenty four hour span ten times over.

Getting home, All of this means absolutely nothing if Bucky doesn’t go to war. 

He needed to enlist, he had too, you were to blame for this, and you were damn right gonna fix it.

You had to make him join the army, no matter the cost.

Maybe you could afford a couple more days here, you supposed.

“You figure out all your math?” Bucky asks. 

You turned to him and stood.

“Not quite.”

Tag-list: @emily-roberts @enchantedbarnes @marygoddessofmischief @nickangel13 @elxvrr @pixiesbored @skittle479 @sweetwritingfanficfriend @curlycarley​ @acceptedbyace​ (bold means I couldn’t tag you)

[fionayao2008]

Tripod Turnstile Overview Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, as well as Flap Turnstile( RS Security Co., Ltd: www.szrssecurity.com) are modern control tools for pedestrian passages. They are made use of in position where the entrance as well as departure of people require to be managed, such as smart communities, canteens, resorts, museums, gymnasiums, clubs, trains, terminals, docks, and so on place. Using Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, and Flap Turnstile can make the flow of people organized. Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, Flap Turnstile are utilized in mix with smart cards, finger prints, barcodes and various other identification system devices to create a smart accessibility control channel control system; they are used in mix with computer systems, accessibility control, presence, billing administration, ticket systems as well as various other software application to create a The intelligent Turnstile Gate comprehensive monitoring system can recognize features such as accessibility control, attendance, usage, ticketing, and also present restricting. This Turnstile Gate monitoring system becomes part of the "all-in-one card" and also is mounted at flows such as neighborhoods, manufacturing facilities, wise buildings, canteens, and so on. It can complete different administration functions such as worker card traveling control, attendance at get off work and dishes, as well as dining. Tripod Turnstile system attributes Fast and hassle-free: read the card in and out with one swipe. Utilize the accredited IC card and wave it before the smart Tripod Turnstile visitor to finish the Tripod Turnstile gate opening as well as fee recording job. The card analysis is non-directional as well as the analysis as well as composing time is 0.1 secs, which is convenient and also rapid. Protection as well as confidentiality: Use history or local confirmation, accredited issuance, and special identity, that is, the card can just be used in this system, and it is safe and also confidential. Reliability: Card superhigh frequency induction, trusted as well as steady, with the capability to court as well as think. Adaptability: The system can flexibly establish access as well as exit control personnel authorizations, amount of time control, cardholder validity and also blacklist loss reporting, adding cards and other functions. Flexibility: Through consent, the user card can be made use of for "one-card" administration such as vehicle parking, participation, gain access to control, patrol, usage, etc, making it easy to understand numerous uses of one card. Simplicity: Easy to set up, simple to attach, the software has a Chinese user interface as well as is very easy to operate. Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, as well as Flap Turnstile( RS Security Co., Ltd: www.szrssecurity.com) are modern control devices for pedestrian passages. The use of Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, as well as Flap Turnstile can make the circulation of people orderly. Make use of the licensed IC card as well as wave it in front of the smart Tripod Turnstile reader to complete the Tripod Turnstile gate opening as well as fee recording job.

[leclercskiesahead]

Assigning a men’s gymnastics apparatus to each f1 driver

Carlos: decent all rounder but best event is pommel horse

Charles: vault but secretly wishes to be choreographer for the women’s floor events

Checo: rings

Max: p bar

Lewis: floor

George: lanky bean pole is swinging on the high bar. also does rings and hits the cross aka the t pose every time

Hulk: rings

Kmag: fok smashes pommel horse routines

Yuki: have you seen this guy leaping over the turnstiles? VAULT

Daniel: p bars but his favourite is pommel horse

Bottas: rings

Zhou: high bar

Fernando: vault

Lance: high bar

Alex: pommel horse. Really hates one of the other apparatuses

Logan: floor or high bar

Lando: floor bc he is scared of heights of everything else

Oscar: floor. The energy of men’s floor routines compared to the women’s is perfectly captured in his default ._. face

Esteban: p bar

Pierre: rings

[blainesebastian]

coming home (ccg universe)

words: 2,679 ship: austin butler x reader summary: austin gets home from budapest with scruff, you decide you like it (for @stylesmendeshearted  and obviously inspired by this)   notes: masterlist is on my sidebar :) this is part of the coffee cart girl universe and could be seen as a continuation of ‘long distance’ but can be read alone warnings: NSFW tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff

Something you didn’t think you’d have to get used to is having a boyfriend who traveled—you know that a lot of people do it for work and it’s a constant stream of back and forth, packing and unpacking, living out of a suitcase and deciding just to leave it out in the bedroom like a permanent fixture you can buy from Target.

Then there’s the missing. No matter how short the length of time or how often you’re able to call one another, talk, the distance always feels massive. You suppose it should be, Budapest isn’t exactly a hop, skip and a jump away.

You’ve kept yourself busy at home anyways with work, with the film that’s done shooting, with all the puzzle pieces falling into place. You’ve participated in interviews, events, shows, parties and it’s been amazing, the experience is one not to be duplicated or forgotten. But you have to admit it’s been hard without Austin here, gone for the few months to shoot another movie, follow his own dreams and talents. No one is more deserving than him, but you can definitely feel the ache open up inside your chest, behind your ribcage, the longer he’s gone.

Because of this, you’re practically buzzing in place in the airport when his flight gets in, waiting in baggage claim and turning your head everytime you see someone who remotely looks like Austin. You know he’s probably coming home with his hood up, or a baseball cap, something that disguises his features just barely so he’s not overrun and can gather his things up in peace. You take a calming breath in, playing with the bottom of the sweater you’re wearing.

The thing about Austin that you can always count on is that he was available for you when he was gone—he made sure to call, respond to texts when he could, Facetime whenever the breaks allowed. It’s comforting in a way that you can’t describe that even when he’s in a completely different place, surrounded by old and new faces, obligations, that even when things change, your commitment to one another stays the same.

Another flight pops up on the board above the baggage claim and the turnstile slowly begins to rotate again with suitcases. You glance down the long hallway as you wait amongst a group of people for loved ones, finally seeing a figure that you know is Austin, can tell by the lean trim of his body and the way he’s walking. He’s wearing a black sweatshirt, hood up over his hair and a grin breaks out onto your face as you take a step forward.

His eyes scan the crowd as he gets closer, finally landing on you and the smile that spreads across his face is the same. He moves quicker, dropping a backpack to the floor as he reaches for you, closing the distance yourself to throw your arms around him. A relieved laugh slips from your lips and your bury your face into his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne and skin. You’ve missed him so much, can’t believe how hard it hits you all at once.

His arms squeeze you, slightly lifting you from the floor and making you laugh again before he sets you down. When you pull back, you tilt your chin up to get a good look at him, your eyes widening just a little as you see he’s grown some facial hair. It’s dirty blonde, subtle, just like the color of his hair and you can’t help but run your hand over it.

“Do you hate it?” He asks, lifting his hand to hold yours along his face.

A small giggle, “No, I—it’s just new. I didn’t expect it.” You press yourself up on your toes to kiss his cheek, to which he turns his head and captures your lips. Both of his hands clasp your face, running his thumbs along your cheekbones.

You can’t begin to describe how much he feels like home.

Crinkling your nose as you pull back from him, you touch your own jawline where his scruff has rubbed while kissing. It’s a bit rough but not terrible and you’re mostly making a face so that he laughs, which he does.

“It works for you,” You say after a moment, touching his cheek. Then again, most things do—don’t they? “Is this part of a grand incognito disguise?” You tease and Austin gently rolls his eyes before shaking his head,

“Trust me, people still recognize me.”

As if on cue, a girl in your peripherals approaches with her mouth slightly open and her phone in hand. She’s starstruck, shaking a little, and can barely get the words out, “Can I—”

And while Austin’s face is polite as he turns to look at her, you can tell there’s a soft flash of frustration in the blue of his eyes that he’s been interrupted the moment he’s home, trying to greet his girlfriend.

“No, I’m sorry—thank you though.”

You know it’s rare for him to turn down a fan, he’s probably exhausted and eager to get home, trying to give you the benefit of having him to yourself too long after time apart. But the crushed look on the fan’s face is something you don’t want to leave the airport seeing—Austin really doesn’t have to do any special favors for you. Besides, despite how nervous this one is, she’s at least being polite.

“It’s alright,” You assure—it’ll be quick, just one photo, and it’ll make this fan’s whole day. You know what it’s like to be in her shoes and the last thing you want is to somehow take away that experience.

Austin pauses, his gaze asking if you’re sure but you nod and take the phone from the fan to even take the picture. She’s ecstatic, trembling, can’t stop thanking either of you as you snap the photo and hand the phone over.

“Can I get a selfie with you too, Y/N?”

You blink, not exactly ready for that role reversal but nod nonetheless, a soft laugh slipping from your lips, “Sure of course.”

You pose, smile and give a small wave to the girl who continues to thank you both up and down before scurrying back to what looks like her parents near baggage claim. You hum, turning to look up at your boyfriend, who has a fond look reserved just for you, wrapping his arms around your waist,

“I dunno about this whole ‘you posing for selfies’ thing,” Austin says as he looks down at you, though his voice is teasing. His nose bunny kisses yours, “Last thing I want to do is share you.”

You smile up at him, lips brushing his own, “Let’s go home then so you don’t have to.”

There’s no disagreement from Austin on that.

--

Coming home is one of the easiest things you’ve done, especially with Austin in tow. You don’t spend a lot of time unpacking, grabbing a bottle of wine instead and ordering take-out to eat in the bedroom. Austin’s changed into a comfortable pair of joggers and a white t-shirt, gold chain he sometimes wears around his neck underneath the fabric. You hum softly, leaning back against the pillows as you watch him next you, stretched out on his side of the bed, eyes on the TV that’s playing a few Seinfeld episodes, just something as white noise.

Your cat can’t get enough of him, obviously missed him just as much. Lying on his legs while he ate and now settled perfectly on his chest like a loaf of bread, purring as Austin absently pets down the back and between the ears.

“Think your cat might have missed me more than you.” He teases, to which you ruffle Austin’s curls and turn to face him, propping yourself against the headboard.

“Not possible.” You inform him, a soft smirk tugging the corners of your mouth as you pet your cat as well. “Did you miss me?”

He gives you a look as if it might be a stupid question and maybe it is? But you can’t quite stop yourself from asking it either. Budapest kept him busy, he was constantly shooting, going out with people from set, trying to get enough sleep and schedule things with his agent that…it wouldn’t surprise you if the work helped him keep his mind off things.

“Too long this time,” He muses, meaning the time apart. Your cat stretches on his stomach and then jumps off the bed and he’s able to turn and look at you as well. One of his hands reaches out and plays with a strand of hair near your cheek before curling it around your ear,

“Next time you’re comin’ with.”

You laugh lightly, “I’d probably just get in the way.”

Austin shakes his head, his eyes glancing down to the bedspread as his hand moves to settle over your own. His thumb absently traces circles along your knuckles, “With all the craziness that the set and the work brings? You always help me feel calm in what I’m doin’.”

That he doesn’t have to explain, he helps you feel the same way too, even when it’s got nothing to do with work.

“I missed you too,” You tell him, even if that’s evident— sometimes it’s just nice to hear it. Then a mischievous chuckle leaves your throat, “Even though I practically had someone over every night, you know, keeping me company. Remember that guy from set? Ronald?”

Austin rolls his eyes and doesn’t respond, instead reaching out to grab onto your hip to pull you closer. He’s met Ronald a handful of times before he left for Budapest—a nice guy, worked the lights on your movie set, but it was obvious that there was a small crush developing on you that Austin wasn’t fond of. The guy’s harmless, never even made a move or said anything indecent. But it’s fun to tease, just a little, to wind your boyfriend up.

“He was more than willing to come over.”

“I’m sure he was.” He comments dryly but presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose.

“The only guy that was here has four legs and black fur,” You touch Austin’s chest, tugging a bit on his shirt. Your cat meows somewhere from the floor, as if he knows you’re talking about him. “Decent cuddler, not as great as you.”

“Good to know I wasn’t completely replaced.” Austin chuckles, squeezing your waist.

A soft noise leaves your lips, moving to touch his cheek again, thoughtfully running your thumb along his chin and jawline where the blonde scruff is. You smile, shaking your head, “Really don’t know how I feel about this.”

“Just pure laziness on my part.” He murmurs, taking your hand from his face to press kisses to, especially along your fingers.

You don’t mind it exactly; he just looks different. Still Austin, just rougher around the edges, that softness to his eyes from the curls in his hair and the fullness of his lips suddenly turned a bit sharper because of the scruff. You chew on your lower lip as he continues to kiss your hand, moving up to your wrist and pressing his nose against the skin there.

Heat curls in your belly, slipping lower to the center of your core between your legs.

The man knows exactly which buttons to press.

Austin’s eyes flutter up to yours before he begins to move, blanketing his body over yours until you’re lying on your back, settling between your legs. He tilts his chin up to kiss you, the scruff itching along your skin and it doesn’t hurt exactly? But it’s definitely not your favorite sensation when it comes to kissing him. You’re not about to be one of those girlfriends that tells your significant other to shave though, that’s just silly. But…you won’t exactly be upset when the scruff is gone either.

When Austin kisses you again, you expect this to go in a way that’s not unfamiliar—he’s just got home, you miss one another, your bodies aching for the other’s in heat and touch and desire. But just when you think you know what he’s doing, he switches gears and slips down between your legs. A soft breath of surprise leaves your lips, and he moves to encourage your hips up before he removes your sweatpants and underwear all in one fluid stroke.

Shivering at the cool air on your heated skin, it takes a moment for you to open your legs, Austin encouraging with soft kiss to your knees. There are a hundred separate thoughts swirling in your head right now, a constant stream that somehow comes to a sharp stop when Austin begins to kiss down your thigh.

The contrast of how sensitive your body feels, nerve endings exposed, and the bristle of the scruff on his jawline is sending electricity down your spine. Your head tips back against the pillows, a soft mewl of pleasure leaving your lips, as he drags his lips along your inner thigh and back again.

He nearly drives you crazy like this, aching for him, for more, more. A soft laugh of warm air leaves his lips because he seemingly knows exactly what he’s doing and it takes everything in you not to tug on his hair or tap his cheek, a barely there glare is all you can suffice.

“Did you need somethin’?” He asks, holding onto your knee with his one hand, pressing a kiss to where it creases.

“If you’re gonna have that attitude, go back to the airport.”

Austin laughs, something warm and annoying and God, you roll your eyes even though you’re smiling too. “Doesn’t sound like much of a threat, not with how much I can feel you tremblin’.”

“Stop teasing.”

And he does—there’s this brief thought that completely disappears out the window as he sinks between your legs. Shouldn’t you be taking care of him? He’s the one that was away for so long—but then again, Austin kinda gets in these moods where it’s just all about you, because making you feel good is just as important as his own needs.

And how are you supposed to argue with that?

Once his mouth presses against your center, there’s a struggle between wanting to open your legs further and closing your knees together, rolling your hips up and into him. His tongue does most of the work and you can’t stop the sounds from leaving your throat, a constant stream of pleasure and saying his name. The scruff along his jaw against sensitive skin makes your hands slip into his hair and tug, just slightly, and God, you don’t want him to stop. Even after reaching your peak and tumbling over the edge.

Austin lingers against you for a long few moments, panting, kisses being pressed along your thighs as he backs up. He has the audacity to lick his lips, resting his chin on your knee for a few moments before he leans down and kisses you. You cup his cheek, running your thumb along his cheekbone, your lips moving together until you need to take a breath, regulate your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

He settles down next to you, pulling the blanket up from the bottom of the bed so that your legs are covered. Your mind is whirling, wanting to be able to return the favor but also feeling like your bones may have been replaced with jello.

“Quite a welcome home.” You mumble to which Austin laughs, leaning comfortably against the pillows and reaching out to brush some of your hair aside.

“I’ll shave tomorrow, by the way.”

You turn your head a little, shrugging your one shoulder, “Think it might be growin’ on me.” You grin, moving to kiss him again as your fingers stroke through the scruff. Austin hums gently against your lips before kissing you back, resting back against the comforter again.

--

No regrets :)

[angstics]

thursday/mcr coheadliner when. OR! mcr/100 gecs bc that would be the most transgender event ever. or mcr/against me coheadliner bc james was on tour w them anyway as a roadie and i wanna see that. these are my ideas

hit for hit for hit… people who make good music!!! i like turnstile a lot, so id like them together. it made me sad they coheadlined w blink cuz resale prices were out of control. tho no chance of headlining rn, id like my little bands to open for them … pinkshift, carpool… sigh…

[influenzalake]

ShyReader failing to confess to Jonathan Kent

Reader has it BAD for Jon, but always hesitates at the last minute- they go to Hamilton High! 

gender neutral Reader, longer than usual ( 1300+ words ) (A LIL ANGST, BE CAREFUL YALL THIS ONE IS NOT SWEET) 

- - - 

~~~1

This is it. It's finally here.

Jonathan and Y/N have been assigned together for a book report. Jonathan's bread and butter as the son of two star studded reporters. He is rambling off the intricate symbolism of each character and the deliberate scene descriptions. You give him your 100% focus. He asks you what you thought of the protagonist's struggle. You give him a few "Uh Huhs" and nod while keeping eye contact, but not too much. 

 This is your chance. 

Then he asks if you thought the conflict was a narrative on human nature or if the story events were due to the difficulties they faced for survival. He follows it up with how you think the story would play out if it was updated to modern times with current cultural influences. You try to stutter out a satisfying answer. You want to impress him and have meaningful conversation on par with his. All you get out is a quiet "yeah that would be different." 

Your make or break. 

After mentally slapping yourself on the forehead for that pathetic response, you take a deep breath to deliver your real thoughts. Though none of them are pertaining to the novel assigned. Jon notices your anticipation, looks at you, and waits. You understand this is him being polite, giving you a chance to speak your mind, but all it does is make the one ounce of courage you had falter. 

And it's gone. 

Instead you spit out a question from left field. 

"Board for the book?"

"What?", he says.

After more awkward silence, "A-are we going to do a board,  like uh    uh a poster board for the book report?"

This sparks his brain into high gear. He is dishing out ideas left and right, ripping a page out of his notebook to start a brainstorm and design. You keep letting his brilliant mind cook into what you assume is going to be a A++. The teacher always favored Jon and his work. This report will be no different, but this was more than just another report for you. It was a chance to get closer and maybe let him know how you feel. 

Now all you feel is it slip through your fingers. 

~~~2

Your class group shuffles through the metal detectors and turnstiles. Your guide is waiting up ahead for everyone and your teacher is reminding people to stay in a single file for the security screening. 

The annual trip to the Museum of Natural History is underway. The long bus ride is finally over and you all get to stretch your legs. Seating was assigned by the 'who is less likely to cause trouble if seated together' rule. You spent the last 3 hours looking out the window while the student next to you put their hoodie up and over their smuggled headphones blasting music.

Thankfully, your biology teacher was kind enough to let students pick partners for the "buddy system" for lunch break. Safety First, of course. You planned to ask Jon to be lunch buddies 30 minutes before, as scheduled. But as the tour goes on and on, that seems less likely.

The exhibit is big, but the group is even bigger. Every junior enrolled in a science class is on this trip and due to college requirements, that basically means everybody. The dinosaurs around you are dozens of feet tall and the students joke that Jon could probably touch it no problem. He is the tallest of the entire junior class, after all. Meanwhile, you are still struggling to see what they're looking at. Is it a Spinosaurus or a Stegosaurus??? 

You keep falling to the back of the group as bolder students push their way forward to the next best thing. The tour guide doesn't wait up as she too is on a schedule. The school staff is at the back of the group, keeping watch for any stragglers that get "too curious". You try to keep up, but the mass of humans keep rushing past you. Every time you try to push forward, find Kent, and ask him to be lunch buddies--- it doesn't happen. 

The introduction tour comes and goes. The 30 minute window comes and goes. The cafeteria is in sight and people find their people. For once, out of knowing him for years, you can't find Jon. The biggest of the bunch and you have no idea where he's gone. Your bio teacher is required to do a head count for their class before and after the cafeteria, so he must be somewhere?? How did he get past the headcount and disappear?

You feel a tap on your shoulder and your heart speeds up. You turn your head quickly to the tap to see-   your busmate. They haven't found a lunch buddy yet and saw you. You sigh (but not too noticeably) and agree. You eat your chili dog in sorrow, but promise next time will be different. 

~~~3

This is it. You're finally here.

Graduation Day.

The bleachers are stocked full of friends and family waiting to see their little munchkin walk the stage. These are the people you spent 4 whole years with. These are the people you grew up with, during your most important adolescent years. These are the moments that will last forever. 

Staff and valedictorians give their speeches. Students stand up and earn their diplomas. The sun slowly goes down and the ceremony comes to a close. You all turn your tassels to the side and give one last cheer. Hats paint the sky and fall back to the field grass. It's all over now. 

It's time for the next chapter in life. 

The first thing you want to do is talk to him. This time you are going to break out of your shell. No matter what he says, at the very least, you can have the closure of knowing you tried. 

And there he is. Only two people in the world that you know of are that tall. Two dark curly heads poking above the crowd. You start walking. You start MARCHING. 

This time you're done. Right now, space is the only thing getting between you and Jonathan. It WAS going to be different, really!  

You finally make it and find him. He is with his mom, his dad, two elderly people you assume are his grandparents, and two other people in suits with an embroidered 'W' above their breast pocket. 

Your mind goes blank.

You give him a quick congratulations, laugh and smile, then formalities are forgotten. 

"Jon, can I talk to you please?"

The attention you draw is suffocating, but peace is granted when Jon's mother pushes her son forward. She does something with her eyes you don't quite understand, but you're grateful for the gesture either way. 

You move a little ways farther from his group for some privacy and just go out with it.

"I'm so happy w-FOR you Jon. Great job. We did it.... so uhh   What's next?"

*STUPID!! AGAIN!, think before you speak Y/N!!!*

Jon starts talking in his cute way about how he's going to go to The University of Metropolis to study journalism like his parents and work at the Daily Planet--

 "Wait... Metropolis University, Daily Planet?"

"Yeah, I want to follow in my parents' footsteps and be a reporter!"

"In.. Metropolis?"

"Yea! They have a great program over there, classes start soon. I'm so excited!" 

In an instant your heart shatters. Jon will be gone... within MONTHS. It sounded like he already committed to the University, but... how could you not know??? Why didn't he tell you?? Why didn't anybody tell you...

Before you let the tears show, you quickly congratulate Jon again and vanish into the stream of graduates and families. 

You will never be with him. You had your chances. YEARS ago. Now, it's all gone. 

You hope he leaves. You hope to never see him again. You hope to find the only peace your heart will ever find, in solitude. 

- - - 

1 = sophomore year

2 = junior year

3 = senior year

- - -

@jejji45

[tremendouskoalachild]

can i just... vent a bit. recently, maybe over the last couple years, i have been bumping into more and more things that are minor inconveniences to me at best but make me so mad on behalf of others.

all local university buildings are now only accessible with a student or employee id. i have one so i don't care beyond being slightly slowed down coming and going but those used to be public buildings, with cool unique stuff on display in the hallways and beautiful old architecture, largely empty at some times of day/week, and now you can only come in if you have an appointment or there's a special event. they're justifying it as a security measure because of a school shooting last year but the process of installing turnstiles was underway before that.

a big library building made all disabled bathroom stalls only accessible to eurokey holders. not everyone who needs to use those stalls has or can get one. this also greatly reduced the number of available stalls during peak times, and locked away the paper towel dispensers, so everyone is now queuing for a single hand-dryer per floor. great job guys, everyone loses. they're justifying it by people frequently vandalizing the bathrooms, which is fucking bullshit.

at the same library i was woken up from a quick powernap by security, because i was curled up on a comfy couch, and apparently you're only allowed to sleep in the library if you're sitting at a table. i was about to wake up and get back to typing anyway and didn't care outside of it being a bit embarrassing but we can all see this is just an attempt to get rid of people without shelter right

a nearby train station was under renovation recently and i was presently surprised that the public bathrooms were a lot more easily accessible and free of charge. but then they officially opened and turns out it was just free because it would be a hassle to charge money while they were renovating, and the fee went up. the bus station/mall across the street from there went from free bathrooms to free on a different floor but paid close to the bus terminals, to all paid, in maybe 10 years. they also don't have an actual way to get large luggage past the turnstiles at this bus station(!), so you better have someone watch it for you i guess. i don't really have an effective way to complain about all this because i don't live in the town, just pass through often enough.

so many free amenities and services were taken away during covid lockdowns and, predictably, never came back or got paywalled. fucking malls have paid public bathrooms now, and replaced sitting areas with kiosks. some of the more high-end malls outside the city center still have them but will ask you to get lost if an employee thinks you look like you won't be spending money there.

for the past two years many public buildings, like train stations and libraries, as well as privately owned malls, have been swarming with goons in security vests walking around trying to look tough. big coincidence this started when the first wave of ukrainian refugees got here, i'm sure. if you ask why there's a need to have four wannabe cops in a regional train station when there wasn't just a few years ago they'll just say it's a security measure and get mad at you.

[bentwolioo]

MCR stop being cryptic challenge (Japan show analysis)

Ok, continuing the theory from my Oceania tour analysis post! 

I honestly wasn’t expecting Gerard to keep wearing the secretary outfit for Japan but this really makes me believe that MCR is foreshadowing their rebirth. The secretary character carried through to the end of the reunion tour. We never saw a true end or ‘death’ on stage, and whilst Gerard wore more fake blood in Japan, the lack of further changes to the Secretary’s appearance suggests her fighting to live on despite the odds and succeeding, rather than truly decaying away.

Gerard in Tokyo (1st pic) and Osaka (2nd pic) via Punkspring

TOKYO, March 25 2023

In terms of how the Japan shows continue the story from my first post (the events of 9/11 followed by the creation of MCR), I think Tokyo is focused on the creation of Bullets. Gerard carried the umbrella again at this show, which I connect with ‘destruction raining down’ when the twin towers collapsed—Gerard seeing this directly inspired him to write the first MCR song, Skylines and Turnstiles, the foundation of their first album. It’s difficult to see in the screencap above, but if you watch this video from vex_glitch you’ll see the umbrella.

The drumhead message, “GEMINI” (pic by shelly19041904) can be interpreted in many ways. I believe a strong link is that MCR completed recording Bullets in Gemini season (on May 23rd 2002 according to this post from the studio it was recorded at. Other sources online also say May 27th). Their first single, Vampires Will Never Hurt You, was also released in Gemini season on May 27th 2002.

OSAKA, March 26 2023

Screencap from video by hongrui_zz

Gerard was back to the briefcase rather than umbrella for the Osaka! I think the umbrella is the signifier of an important, specific event in the story they’re telling via the costume and drumheads. Melbourne 1 (the first appearance of the umbrella) was the 9/11 attacks, and Tokyo was the creation of Bullets. You could say Osaka relates to the release of Bullets (or specifically Vampires Will Never Hurt you) but I think it also leads towards the future.  

The drumhead for Osaka was a mirror (pic by humgumhum), and the message was not written until the encore. The mirror represents the themes of duality that surround MCR’s reunion tour. Life and death, past and future. The first part of the bands career, and now, the second. In another sense, the mirror literally reflects the audience, the fans. It portrays the connection between the fans and the band/their music which is, to some extent, the driving force that allows MCR’s success to continue. 

The drumhead message, “EnDLeSS NiGHT” was of course a lyric from Vampires Will Never Hurt You—the first single, the first song to have an audience. Vampires was the only song played in the encore at Osaka, and the last song played live by MCR for now. In the final 9 shows, but especially Osaka, we keep seeing this idea of returning to the beginning. The fact that the writing on the drum was added at the encore reflects this idea that just as we think it’s the end, MCR starts again, they keep going. Therefore, as I said after Sydney, this feels like a rebirth. It feels like a second beginning—which connects back to Gemini (twins), the mirror and theme of duality.

Burning backdrop pic by linefact0800, night stars backdrop pic by superliane

I can’t discuss the backdrops/stage set design from Japan in detail since to be honest there aren't enough good photos and videos documenting it. But my broad interpretation of the flaming buildings is that they represent burning everything down and starting again. In the years leading up to their split in 2013, MCR was in decline for a variety of reasons. The break up was very much necessary—so now the beginning of a new stage of their career will (I hope) allow them to rebuild. During the Japan shows, the fires in the backdrop were put out, and it transitioned to a night sky which links to the “EnDLeSS NiGHT” drumhead—this could signify the future of My Chemical Romance.

I’m hesitant to conclude that there is a guarantee of new music. But as I’ve seen a few people theorise, perhaps they are hinting at something happening in Gemini season this year (May 21-June 21). Possibly on the dates significant to the creation and release of Bullets? Nevertheless, the reunion tour finishing does not mean the terminus of MCR’s return—nothing sums this up better than the words staring back at us when the band left the stage at Osaka:

Endless night. Pic by michionchan