#WAS IT ? VADIM?? I FEEL LIKE ITS NOT

[dunhoof]

finally getting the item and forgetting what dragon you needed it for

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 2/6/2024

some weeks it's really hard to come up with a snappy little bon mot to put here

listening

Barbarella, by a fuck of a lot of people. yes i DID watch this movie this week! this is the single catchiest theme song i have ever heard. i cannot link the actual opening credits scene bc tumblr will censor that shit SO fast. spotify

-

reading

Rebecca Roanhorse's Tread of Angels novella. this is an urban magic old west religious fantasy novella. VERY sangfielle friendsatthetable vibes, there's an old west mining town centered around the body of the demon Abbadon, which is being mined for its powerful properties. demons and angels have sort of interbred throughout the human population. there is some deeply nerdy catholic bullshit and i say that as someone who was in catholic school for fifteen years. actually let's just take Roanhorse's explanation

the setting and premise are not where the novella bites off way more than it can chew. the main character, a cardsharp, has a chanteuse sister being held accused of a murder and she's got 48hrs to prove her innocence. the time limit and general structure is good, and it uses its side characters wisely, there's just a fuck of a lot of them.

in general, this novella does not have the emotional room to make its emotional beats really count. for example, there was a second breakup with an ex after a night of passion that mostly just left me confused. more broadly, the main character has an oldest sister's selfsacrificing nature that has twisted into utter ruthlessness with regards to her sister, and i'm both impressed Roanhorse managed to convey that in so few pages and annoyed bc i really wanted to see more of that in way more detail. due to the nature of it being a novella, the series of escalating decisions she takes feel very jagged in their escalation. i hope that makes sense.

it's got really interesting ideas! i want to know more about the ideas! i wish this was a full book instead of a novella, so the ending hits a little better instead of a Well That Just Happened way. from this interview it seems Roanhorse also wanted it to be a full book, but it was sort of a "i need something short and sweet so i don't go insane while adapting my other book for TV" (which is very exciting!!!)

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watching

really a bizarre set of films. extremely unemployed energy in this watchlist this week. largely composed of "what's on my letterboxed watchlist and also available for free on tubi, with brief forays into hulu"

Journey to the West: Conquering the Demons (2013, dir. Chow). loved the overall visual design of the antagonists and the monsters, did not overall love this movie. it is a solid martial arts showcase and the first twenty minutes with freshwater JAWS are the most tightly plotted. it kind of flounders (lol) after that. can't find a gif i like.

INU-OH (2021, dir. Yuasa) genuinely healed my heart a little i think. queer (complimentary, not queer in the western massachusetts housing coop way) feudal anime glam rock opera. i am sooooooo picky about bad dads in movies as a driving force but this really soothed my daddy issues. stuck the landing on both storytelling and visuals.

Barbarella (1968, dir. Vadim) WOW Jane Fonda was hot. this was both sillier and less porny than i was led to believe (if we ignore the softcore porn opening credits). however horny this movie was it was not brave enough to have some girl-on-girl action with barbarella and the evil empress, even though the evil empress never seems to actually learn her name and just calls her “pretty” or “pretty-pretty”. shoutout to the one fic on ao3 that rectifies this situation. certainly a piece of scifi history, i wish modern scifi was as brave with its theatrical set dressing, i think one viewing is good enough for me bc i cannot stop thinking about how all the women on set might have been treated.

john philip law popped up and i said out loud to my cat “hey i know him from cowboys”

Flower Drum Song (1961, dir. Koster) got conned into watching this by the hotvintagemen poll bc i wanted to see what james shigeta’s deal was, and if he did have a sort of ratpack sensibility as the propaganda described. he does! however this movie is unrelentingly awful. it is so so so slow. all of its comedy is racism-based. it feels like a three and a half hour two-VHS set instead of two hours. i like to think i have a stronger stomach for older media and am able to consider things as products of their times but this is my upper limit i think. one brief fleeting moment of cool production with this triple mirror effect

Dirty Dancing (1987, dir. Ardolino). we were trying to find something to watch on either peacock or hbo max, and when i said "oh i've never seen that" out loud my my best friend said "that's insane we're watching it". i did not hate this movie, but i feel like i missed some critical window of development in which i would have had to see this movie to really love it. i had sort of an abnormal high school experience and i am a smidge too old to relate to bildungsroman any more. but it was cute! it was fine! i think patrick swayze’s jawline could cut glass. this film was made after Roe v Wade (1973) and i feel like the backstreet abortion b-plot has done this interesting 180 from sort of a historical novelty to a real threat and terror again. fun!

that’s it for the watching section i promise

-

playing

im doing the thing where i play a game for ten minutes, put it down, and then pick it back up again, which is probably not terrific for the health of my elderly switch. but whatever. what have i been up to in breath of the wild?

not a ton of progress map-wise, but did make it up to zora’s domain.

i was planning on the camel being the first divine beast, to get that over with bc i had such a devil of a time in my last playthrough, but the thing about the desert is it’s really far away.

dicked around the dueling peaks stables for a while without managing to defeat that guardian and unlock that shrine. so it goes. i think i really need an actual guardian shield from one of the minor tests of strength shrines instead of a normie shield. this line and sidequest made me laugh— it wasn’t terribly hard to find this little cache but it was a tricky bit of gliding.

didn’t realize the horses don’t have that much vertical threat perception, just like real horses. this little band walked right under me and i failed to glide down and land perfectly on someone’s back, which did freak them all out.

i think my new favorite place in a game is this little grove clinging to the side of the dueling peaks. it felt very peaceful and cozy. nothing can get me up there and there’s more than enough room to make a little campfire and cook dinner and not roll off the mountain in a sleeping bag the middle of the night.

also fully kitted out my house bc i had a very successful mining expedition along dueling peaks. EXTREMELY forgiving and generous secondary opening area imo, thanks game

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making

i started this glitch sampler pattern by tumblr's own mathysphere (not @'d bc this is a fuck of a long post) at the beginning of the pandemic, june 2020, while thinking "eh let's give this friends at the table counterweight thing a shot" got most of the way through both counterweight and this piece, put it down bc i was so annoyed with all the confetti stitches (random one-off stitches of colors that aren't anywhere near other stitches of the same color. i think i resorted to fraychek at several points in the rover square) and then put it down so long i had to throw it out during the great moth debacle, bc it was partly eaten.

here's what it will look like finished, and a link to buy the pattern

i think this time around i am a much better technical stitcher (the first crack at this i didn't know the loop method of starting, or pin stitches, or really any alternate endings except running the tail under the last few stitches). i usually stitch with three strands bc i like the look, but i think the loop method with three strands is overly fiddly. i have not picked up cross stitch since mmmm 2021, but any mistakes or unevenness in this will simply contribute to the glitch effect. i'm going to go back and backstitch the four "frames" and key portions of the sampler to highlight portions of the glitches (eg the yellow and blue centers of the spiral galaxy, the interior of the eclipse, perhaps add an antenna to the rover).

still not my tidiest back, but hey. it's going to sit in a frame and not have any sort of friction or extra force applied to it ever

i am really looking forward to framing this in a deep shadowbox, i have an idea about how to mat it with little melty cutouts for the drips at the bottom.

[angrybell]

So Hamas allies in the US attended the hearings today on Capitol Hill about aid to Israel. It looks like they attended in costume because it was Halloween.

Now, most likely they using as an inspiration the photo on the right with the man, hands bloodied, in the window. Who is he? How did his hands get that way?

That man’s name is Abdel Aziz Salha. He is a “Palestinian” originally form Ramallah.

The photo was taken on October 12, 2000. On that day, two Israeli reservists took a wrong turn and ended up in Ramallah. Ramallah, then as now, was under PA control. Since the two men were Israeli Jews, they were taken into custody by the PA Police and taken to the police station under arrest.

The man in the left picture below is Vadim Norzhich was a truck driver who had made Aliyah from Russia ten years earlier. The man on the right is Yossi Avrahami, a toy salesman in civilian life. On the day in question, they were reservists in the IDF being called to report to an IDF base at Beit El.

While arrested and in custody, Salha and crowd of Arabs formed. This was just over 2 weeks into the Second Intifada, an uprising that occurred because a Jew had the temerity to go up to the Temple Mount (side note, I did it seven years before and they didn’t care). Salha, and his buddies, were angry that the Israelis had not just let his compatiots riot and destroy everything they could. So when they heard that 2 Israelis were in custody, it was time for pay back.

In the US, if this were to happen, we’d call it a lynch mob.

Rather than disperse the crowd and retain control, the PA Police were happy to let Salha and his buddies “storm” the police station and pull the two Israelis out of the cells. The group that actually entered the police station were made up of 2 Tanzim members (part of Fatah/PLO) and 2 Hamas members. It appears that Salha was the only who wasn’t a member of either terrorist groups.

They were beaten.

They were stabbed.

Their bodies were mutilated.

And Salha was part of that. He choked one of the Israelis while others beat and then butchered them with knives.

Salha was pursued by the Shin Bet for 11 months before he was finally caught. At trial, he was convicted of murder of Norzhich. He was supposed to spend life in prison, the harshest penalty israeli courts can impose on anyone who isn’t a member of the Nazi party form 1933 to 1945.

But instead of spending lift in prison, he was exchanged as part of the prisoner swap for Gilad Shalit.

When asked if he had any regrets about murdering Norzhich by the Eletronic Intifada, he replied

“I believe it is not the right thing to speak about such incidents because ti is nto going to make a difference whether people know the details or not. … “ Salha said. “It will harm us [those who killed Israeli soldiers] if we keep speaking and boasting about what we did, and also it will be used agaisnt us by Israeli media.”

“Does that mean you regret what you’ve done?” I ask him

Looking ponderous, Salha remained silent for a moment before replying, “It just means we should not speak about how we feel about what we did.”

So the Left is celebrating an unrepentant murderer of Jews for being Jews in the “wrong” place. They’re probably claim its the equivalent of another lie that the intersectional left pushed to the point where people forgot the truth: Hands up, don’t shoot.

Kind of par for the course these days.

[hottopicabbacchio]

finally made an info sheet for Vadim :]

some more story and info under the cut because it got longer the more i typed oops

edit: fixed a few things i realized were not the right way on his info ref

first his stand power; its pretty much like a remote stand except if you had even less control over a remote stand lmao. it’s main thing is tracking, vadim picks a target and calls climbing up the walls to basically just follow them. it doesn’t have a whole lot of fighting power so it kind of keeps it’s distance usually. its power (on top of just following the target wherever they go) is actually to cause the target growing unease and dread, to the point where the target will grow paranoid and be basically a nervous wreck and sort of be able to see CUTW in the way of where you keep seeing something out of the corner of your eye but can never catch it. which makes it easy for vadim or someone else to swoop in and kill them if they havent done so themselves yet.

the only problem IS not everyone will be affected by it in the same way plus vadim being able to slowly feel the effects of his own stand if he lets climbing up the walls be active for to long then he’ll be the one to feel the effects but ten fold, which usually is around a full 24 hours after he calls it out. usually at that point or if CUTW feels like it’s power is reaching its limit before that happens, it’ll just retreat and go back to vadim causing the target to be lost until vadim can control his stand again. think of their relationship as a guy and his bigger shadow guy who is not his friend but also not really Not his friend. CUTW otherwise kinda does whatever it wants, he can activate it to lock onto a target but past that he doesnt have much say in what it does or doesnt do a fair amount of the time. also if vadim really needs to use CUTW for fighting then he can, its just not super strong for that in the long run and vadim knows how to hold his own in a fight.

onto story he’s a born stand user but didn’t get his stand until he was 18. his childhood wasn’t anything too terrible but it also wasn’t good. his mom really was the only person there but she was pretty neglectful towards him. he was very distrusting and weary of other people and over time he grew very independent and figured out how to rely on other people less and less. he really only had one other person he relied on and his mother had been starting to try to mend a relationship they never really had. at 18 he had tried getting into passione, seeing it as an opportunity to be able to do something on his own and not have to deal with many other unless he absolutely had to while still getting some sort of a job even if it puts him in a sticky situation. he already knew a group of guys from passione for a favor he had to do for them before to get his mom out of some trouble and so he decided to go to them as a connection.

they told him that they would be able to get him in but knowing that he didn’t have a stand and they weren’t working under polpo’s territory they had told him that the only way to get in to get to him was for him to kill someone, which vadim was like “yeah alright its the mafia that makes sense” even though it was just a trick for them to get back at his mother for before and they also have absolutely Zero jurisdiction to actually say he can join. so they lead vadim around aimlessly so they have time to get to his mother and then once they have her they bring them both out to a really remote place and go “okay. this is who you have to kill if youre serious about getting into passione.” vadim tries to fight them all off and grab his mother and run but he ends up losing from stand users v. non stand user and give him the choice of kill his mom himself or they kill her for him

vadim keeps trying to fight them and keeps losing until he finally just gives in because if he keeps it up he’s going to die and theyre going to kill his mom anyway. his mom is trying to reason with him about it, telling him things about how she had plans for them and he doesn’t have to join the mafia to make a name for himself or whatever his reasons may be and how she’s sorry for not being there til recently. that last part makes vadim snap a little bit from everything that happened and his feelings towards her in the first place and he doesnt hesitate to pull the trigger even though he desperately didn’t want to before.

this is where CUTW first activates, all built up feelings of distrust and neglect and loneliness and now all of this just got to something in him and unlocked his stand. vadim kinda blacks out here but CUTW ends up killing the group who tricked vadim in the first place and then goes after his mother. cut to a while later vadim comes out of whatever trance he was in and see’s someone cleaning up the aftermath. they tell him that his stand came and got them and them he feels a large clawed hand on his shoulder and the sudden feeling of dread before it fades away, seemingly into him.

after that he gets kinda pity let into passione. they throw him in with la squadra due to his general demeanor and figuring out what his stand power is its perfect for assassination missions. he gets kinda of close with risotto and they have a thing going but mostly just i like risotto so self indulgence at its finest lmfao and also i think its a little funny for the next part. which is after the sorbet and gelato thing happens and la squadra is classified as “keep an eye on” he just kinda dips out. he was already in the same boat as them about being unsatisfied with what they were being given but wants nothing to do with that and its not exactly his cup of tea to say the least. really all this running away ends up getting him is having to be classified as a traitor now, so now hes on the run and keeping his head down as best he can to not get caught. and so now hes a traitor to passione AND his ex is risotto nero. lol

[fallout-fucker]

For fanfic: Travis, isolation, whatever setting you want. Thanks!

Travis Miles - Isolation

Note: Hey! I know it's not very original to just use the Confidence Man quest, but I truly know nothing of Travis outside of that. I understand the companions better and wasn't expecting a request about a different NPC. Sorry if you were expecting something more original but I hope you enjoy this regardless. Also, sorry it took a while to get this out. Uni, ya know?

Travis didn’t know what drowning felt like. If he had to guess, he would say it felt like this.

The burning, sickening sensation spreading throughout his body. He imagines this is what it feels like when water- Seemingly thick as tar in those moments of panic when someone tries to thrash towards the surface- makes its way into their respiratory system. Forcing its way into their nose, leaving it scorching with a metallic taste flooding into its victim’s mouth, scratching its way down their trachea. Filling their lungs. Drowning them. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn't speak. Not that there was anyone to speak to.

Aside from the burning of loneliness came the numbness of isolation.

Travis Miles thought he was used to isolation. The static of the radio. The same twenty-something songs scavenged as some of the last remaining pieces of evidence of a bygone era that had long since been buried in ash. Speaking into a microphone, essentially to one’s self, and never receiving an answer back, as if his words only ever found themselves echoing into an abyss of sorts. Travis Miles had thought he knew how isolation felt; tucked away in a forgotten part of Diamond City, in a trailer he assumed everyone forgot was there, the creeks of its metal paneling his only company. Now, he knew differently.

He thought he had been brave. He thought he was finally putting himself out there, getting an edge towards being a confident man. He sees now that he was just foolish. Foolish and naive. Naive enough to think that a radio host, who barely even had the courage to have a voice, could actually step his foot towards that edge.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Travis barely processes the words that Sole is saying to him. In his response, he feels the promise rush from his lips before he even knows what he’s truly promising. “I’ll get a gun-” He didn’t even have a gun. Who doesn’t have a gun? He was always too afraid he would mess up with one. God, he was hopeless.

Foolish.

Naive.

Scared.

“I’ll meet you there-” He thinks he sees concern flicker through the rising General's eyes. Even they don’t believe he can make it there by himself, and he can’t blame them. It’s because of him that Vadim was taken. It’s his fault. He let someone who is arguably his best friend be taken all because he wanted to be more confident. 

Drowning.

Lonely.

Numb.

“We’ll settle this.” There’s the promise. The promise he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep. Regardless, he leaves the Dugout.

The gun he buys is cold against his still burning fingertips. The breath he takes is shaky and turns to mist in the chilly November air. It only adds an icy burn to the already fiery one inside of his tar-sick lungs. The radio equipment gets switched off. The trailer gets locked up.

Travis makes his way to the edge of the city, where the gate opens for him. There it is again, the edge. He doesn’t think he can step over it again, not when he knows the consequences this time. This wasn’t about him this time, though. Even if it means speaking out into that staticy-abyss alone once more. He prays he gets a response this time.

He glances up at the gate as he crosses under it. A part of him cries out to stay in the city, surrounded by walls and safe. The rest of him knows he can’t hide this time, even if it's the first time he actually did wish he was as unnoticeable as he had always felt.

Travis Miles steps over the edge and into the Commonwealth with nothing but a single gun. All alone.

Isolated.

[vancilocs]

26-50 wit huuu dagon and jame aaand long time no joe and mae?

big boys. and mae

26. What sacrifices do they make for the other?

Dagon's given up a bunch of his screentime to give to Jame instead at least and switched his eating habits to be a bit healthier

It's not a sacrifice if they want to do it and being a stay-at-home dad was Joe's dream anyways, but I think it was a big thing from Mae to agree to be pregnant not once but twice

27. How do they say “I love you” non-verbally?

Jame ensures Dagon drinks his water, Dagon cuddles up, they shave each others' hair/beard, Jame traces around Dagon's vitiligo patches, kisses and other small shows of affection, Dagon snaps at Metzli for talking shit

Little touches and kisses, hugs throughout the day, lounging on the couch together either spooning or Joe's head on Mae's lap, playing with each others' hair or hands

28. Who’s the better chef? Do they cook for the other?

Jame's better but Dagon's picking up what he's putting down, if they eat together they cook together

They're both alright but Joe cooks more and for the whole family I think, fixes lunches for the kids too, Mae comes home from work and Joe's almost done setting the table for her to eat too

29. Describe their nighttime routine.

Jame has convinced Dagon to stop looking at blue light like an hour before going to bed, do some stretches, brush teeth, cuddle a bit and talk about day, give a good nights kiss and go to sleep

Maybe shower, brush teeth, cuddle up and chat and kiss a bit, talk about the day and what they're gonna do tomorrow, give a smooch goodnight and settle to sleep

30. What are their respective love languages? Do their love languages work well together?

Dagon practices quality time and physical touch but also some acts of service, he's cuddlier than most think but he thrives with parallel play as well

Joe is big on physical affection and verbal affection in his own way, but also quality time, Mae doesn't do physical affection the same way Joe does so they meet in the middle and just enjoy each other's company

31. Do they often go out on dates? What are these like?

On occasion, usually on an anniversary, go out for dinner and a few drinks before heading back home. They're cordial but nice dates, hold hands under the table maybe, play footsie, onlookers would think its a first date but no this is their 7th anniversary

They like going on dates, just getting drinks at a bar or going to a proper restaurant to eat, date nights are a nice way to add a bit of pizzazz to the usual, they can act all lovey dovey with just the two of them

32. Do either of them drink? If so, who’s the lightweight, and how does their partner care for them?

Neither drinks a lot, neither is particularly lightweight but Dagon wins by just being largehuge

They drink very moderately, Joe has a few beers on date nights (refuses to sip those girly cocktails though) and Mae can have something tasty too, he stays pretty much sober so she has nothing to worry about

33. How do they flirt? Who’s the worse flirt?

They throw glances in each others' direction (hard to see when Jame has his visor), sometimes they stand next to each other. When in private Dagon can get a lil flirty, c'mere I wanna cuddle

It's fun to go to a bar and pretend they're not married, Joe knows way too many awful pick up lines, props his boobs up and becomes insufferable until Mae breaks character

34. Do they have any inside jokes?

Maybe about Dagon being like velcro when asleep or then their height difference

So many from all the way to before they were even dating

35. Is their relationship a secret? If so, why?

Not particularly? But they don't advertise it either. Kris knows because he's besties with Dagon, Vadim knows bc he's nosy, others aren't really aware bc they haven't felt the need to tell anyone

Nope, they're so obviously in love, suck it Helen

36. How do they feel about having kids? Are they in agreement?

They agree on no children

They agreed on two children, they got three, love them all to bits

37. Who’s more emotionally sensitive/cries more often?

I think Dagon is a bit more sensitive but also he cries like once in a decade too so

Mae more, but Joe has learned to show his feelings too

38. Who’s got a quicker temper?

Dagon also, mainly shows it when his code doesn't work, but will tell Metzli to stfu too

Mae also

39. When and how did they admit that they loved each other? If they haven’t yet, why?

Dagon slipped it by half-accident a few years into their relationship, Jame said it back and they moved on. No need to say it out loud when they both know it well enough

After seeing each other for a longer while, a year maybe, when both knew it was serious and it was time to introduce the other to their parents etc., Mae had to say it first but Joe was ready to say it back

40. Do they have any regrets in their relationship?

Not really

They managed being apart from each other for longer whiles, Joe being a mercenary and Mae being a scavenger and all, Joe regrets not being more in touch with his emotions and later for being gone when Damien was small

41. What would they do if they lost the other?

Just go quiet and grieve in solitude for a long while I think

Be destroyed, support is needed

42. What’s their relationship like with each other’s friends/families?

Nonexistent, Dagon doesn't talk to his parents, his brother died while he was in prison and his sister-in-law/her kids don't talk to him either bc he was a criminal. Nor has he ever met Jame's family

Close, Joe's family is tightknit and his parents and sisters love Mae, sisters's husbands and kids too, its a big group and she/her parents were taken in without question. Mae's parents were a bit more sus about Joe but Mae liked him and he seemed nice so he was accepted

43. If they picked out outfits for each other, what would they look like?

Jame gets the ugliest shirt

Joe would look more put together instead of just a T-shirt and jeans, Mae would wear some kind of a black dress and maybe a lil jacket, accessories whomst?

44. Do they cuddle often? Why or why not?

Sleeping with Dagon is not a question of if you get cuddled, but when. But they do enjoy watching films etc. cuddled up too. Dagon just enjoys closeness and he's a Great hugger/pillow

They cuddle pretty frequently, Joe is also a great pillow and warm and soft and he enjoys holding Mae too, its a great way to watch movies or hang out

45. How do they support each other? How do they rely on each others support?

They listen whenever the other has grievances to air, and they trust that the other one will listen also. They got this understanding that everything's free game. Dagon also will read his code out loud to Jame to catch mistakes he's made sometimes but he does that to rubber ducks too

If Mae's had a long day at work, Joe's cleaned the house and made dinner and handled things for her so she doesn't have to worry. They listen to whatever they have to say and Mae encourages Joe to be more open about his feelings, Joe knows Mae will never think his fears or insecurities are dumb

46. Do they consider their relationship casual or serious? Is the answer different depending on who you ask? Why?

Very serious, if someone asks they say it's not their business, frankly

Very serious, no matter who you ask that is the love of their life

47. Do they sleep beside each other? Why or why not?

I think they still have their own apartments, but they often stay overnight and share the bed

Every night if they only can

48. Do they talk about their future together? Why or why not?

Not really? They're very happy where they are right now, I think they've talked about marriage and come to the consensus that no thank you (Dagon is not entirely against it but if Jame doesn't want to, he's fine with that). They take it day by day

They're happy where they are now but they do talk about stuff like when the kids grow up and go to college and move out and should they move house to a smaller one when that happens and Joe wants to buy a boat and when will they retire and normal stuff regular people talk about

49. Do they keep secrets from each other?

Nah

No, unless it's a surprise

50. Would they ever break up? If so, why? Who would handle the breakup better?

At the moment a breakup is not coming, they're very happy. Might stick together for the remaining centuries or so. With their constitutions and support circles I think they would manage it well, Dagon maybe a bit worse bc he's more emotional but he would accept it after a bit

No breaking up, ride or die. They'd both scream and cry if they broke up and I can't imagine which would even be the one leaving

[thebandcampdiaries]

vvs vadim has recently released a new single: "Forget My Name"

vvs vadim is an artist and songwriter who loves to take chances and explore the many nuances of his creativity. His release “"Forget My Name"” is a perfect example. This remarkable piece of music showcases excellent production aesthetics while also enabling "Forget My Name" to express his vision without limitations.

“Forget My Name” clocks in at about two minutes and 45 seconds, and it packs a huge punch in the process. The introduction is a very immersive affair, with a smooth, mellow piano part in the intro. The vocals kick in at about 16 seconds in, setting the mood and immediately highlighting the talent that vvs vadim brings to the table. His delivery is melodic and nostalgic, with lyrics that are quite personal and heartbroken. With lines such as “I was told to love and forgive,” the artist laments of a relationship gone wrong, and offers a somber, melancholic perspective. At the same time, there is also a brighter side, as the beat and the energy brings a high level of intensity to the music. This is a very spontaneous track that exudes honesty and intuitiveness. This relatable portrayal of romantic struggles resonates with many listeners who have experienced similar feelings, and the lyrics are incredibly intuitive and easy to connect with. Much like the flow of the songwriting, the vocal performance is quite distinctive as well. His delivery feels genuine and unfiltered, making his pain and vulnerability palpable throughout the track. The way he sings and raps the lyrics adds depth to the emotional content, making listeners connect with his feelings. The addition of an auto-tune effect adds another level of texture to the vocals, creating some great vocal melodies as well. In this case, pitch correction is used to enhance the emotional delivery and melodic qualities of the artist’s voice, making it almost like an instrument, but still retaining the human heart of the performance at its core.

The melancholic and melodic elements of the music contribute to the overall mood of the song, making it more evocative and touching, especially the keyboard parts and the sparse drum beats that add so much more of an introspective quality to this track. The main piano melody is accompanied by a punchy drum arrangement, providing a modern and dynamic backdrop for vvs vadim’s vocals. In addition, there are many additional layers that add depth to the arrangement, providing extra texture and momentum. The drum pattern is also paced masterfully throughout the song. The verses often feature a subdued and minimalist arrangement, allowing the vocals to really unfold and reveal its full-ranging emotional intensity. In contrast, the chorus is more intense and it offers a fuller sound overall, allowing the dynamics to stand out. Overall, ”Forget My Name” has a very mesmerizing tempo which is quite laid-back and moderately slow. This contributes to the track’s dream-like, contemplative feel. The deliberate pacing allows listeners to absorb the lyrics and connect with the emotional content with a higher degree of perception and feeling. The careful balance of instruments and vocals  is another perk of this great track, and so is the artist’s ability to create some themes within the song. To clarify what we’re saying, it’s important to understand that in music, repetition can often amplify emotions and ideas, making them more impactful. “Forget My Name” enables certain elements in the song cycle back over, such as the chord progression, really makes the music feel a lot catchier and more memorable.

To conclude, ”Forget My Name" is a very good calling card for vvs vadim. This release will certainly please fans of artists like Drake, Post Malone, XXXTENTACION, Dead Rituals, and Lil Mosey, among others. In addition, it is the perfect introduction to how vvs vadim combines genres like modern rap, trap and even some melodic elements in order to create a very seamless personal sound. This is music that’s far more than plain entertainment. vvs vadim arguably uses his craft to express himself but his songs are also punchy and hard-hitting, highlighting his ability to create a very energetic and uncompromising style.

Find out more about vvs vadim, and do not miss out on "Forget My Name". This release is currently available on some of the best digital streaming services.

[byneddiedingo]

Anatoliy Solonitsyn in Andrei Rublev (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1966)

Cast: Anatoliy Solonitsyn, Nikolay Grinko, Nikolay Sergeyev, Nikolay Burlyaev, Ivan Lapikov, Irma Raush, Yuriy Nazarov, Yuriy Nikilin, Rolan Bykov, Mikhail Kononov. Screenplay: Andrey Konchalovskiy, Andrei Tarkovsky. Cinematography: Vadim Yusov. Production design: Evgeniy Chernyaev. Film editing: Tatyana Egorycheva, Lyudmila Feyginova, Olga Shevkunenko. Music: Vyacheslav Ovchinnikov.

Has any filmmaker ever made more eloquent use of the widescreen format than Andrei Tarkovsky does in Andrei Rublev? It was a process developed by Hollywood to help win its war with television -- bigger naturally assumed to be better. In Hollywood, it usually went hand-in-hand with color, and although the various widescreen processes -- Cinerama, Cinemascope, VistaVision, etc. -- were used in black-and-white films, they often feel out of place today. A case in point: The Diary of Anne Frank (George Stevens, 1959), which won an Oscar for the cinematography of William C. Mellor, but which seems to cry out for a format less expansive than CinemaScope, in which the Frank family's attic loses its cramped and confined essence. Andrei Rublev was filmed in a process called Sovscope, which like CinemaScope used anamorphic lenses to produce a 2.35:1 aspect ratio. Tarkovsky and cinematographer Vadim Yusov artfully work with the expanse of the screen, not shying away from closeups but also doing extraordinary movement with the camera. One of the earliest scenes takes place in the barn in which Rublev and his fellow artist-monks take shelter from the rain. We are given an astonishing 360-degree pan inside the barn, circling from the monks to the other denizens of the shelter and back to the monks, a study in faces that establishes one of the film's major subjects: the nature of Russian humanity, which also becomes an abiding concern of Rublev's. (I think there's a witty acknowledgment of the nature of widescreen in that the peep-hole cut into the wall of the bar seems to have the same aspect ratio as the film.) And in the concluding sequence, there is a magnificent pan from the gates of the walled city of Vladimir below and the emerging procession up to the structure that holds the newly cast bell, where Boriska (Nikolay Burlyaev) waits anxiously. Andrei Rublev is one of those films I can't help rewatching; even though (or perhaps because) it's slow and challenging, it more than repays frequent viewings. Tarkovsky is not a director to be taken lightly, and the moment you begin to be lulled by the magnificence of Yusov's cinematography or Vyacheslav Ovchinnikov's score, the director is likely to shock you with images of cruelty and brutality but also of beauty that make you sit upright. A "trigger warning" might be especially needed for lovers of animals, given the harshness with which they are occasionally treated: There is a scene with a cow on fire that will likely haunt me for a long time.* But all the unpleasantness in the film is in service of a story about the persistence of the Russian people and the transcendence of art. Anatoliy Solonitsyn, who plays Rublev, looks a bit like Viggo Mortensen, and recalls for me the tormented masculinity you find in some of Mortensen's performances. Another standout performance is given by Tarkovsky's wife, billed as Irma Raush, as the "holy fool" Durochka, whom Rublev saves from a massacre by the Tatars by killing the assailant -- leading Rublev to atone by giving up his painting and taking a vow of silence. The last section of the film is given over to young Boriska, played by Nikolay Burlyaev, the astonishing Ivan in Tarkovsky's Ivan's Childhood (1962), who takes on the task of casting a church bell despite the suggestion that he will be murdered by the tyrannical Grand Duke (Yuriy Nazarov) if he fails. Although the film is in black-and-white, it concludes with a breathtaking color sequence in which Rublev's paintings are shown in close-up. To my mind, this  final ecstatic survey of Rublev's work is the only section in which Tarkovsky is thwarted by the widescreen process: Rublev's paintings had an aspiring verticality that is at odds with the dimensions of the screen.

*The scene, I learned, on a recent re-viewing of the film, doesn't exist in all versions. In addition to versions made by Soviet censors, Tarkovsky himself made two: His original version ran 205 minutes, but he also made a "final cut" that runs 183 minutes.

[myread4change]

Book #108: - Completed: Reality Transurfing – Vadim Zeland I am back with the book summary. This one is the lengthiest I have read so far and it was worth the time. There is enormous information, and books available on the concept of the law of attraction, and positive thinking, however, this book summarizes them well, especially why these things don’t work for most people. And what is common among people who successfully use such concepts. The book not only focuses on things like thoughts becoming things but also balances with the need of putting in the work. We become so attached to how we want things to turn out and, in the process, block nature to take its course and restrict things to come to us. Transurfing is a powerful technique aimed at giving you the power to create aspects of your life in a way that would ordinarily seem impossible. Few Key Points – • You get what you do not want – To actively fight against what you do not want in your life is to make every effort to ensure that it is present in your life. • The highest level of efficiency in any action is achieved when a person manages to shift the focus of their attention from self and the end goal, to the process of performing the action. • The reason you are tense in the first place is because of the excess meaning you attribute to whatever is bringing you down. • Every time you experience a feeling of unease ask yourself why. Where has meaning been inflated? • People tend to have a very clear view of the obstacles in their way but a very dim view of the foundation on which those obstacles are constructed. • Begin placing one foot in front of the other in the direction of your goal in whatever way you can. Your actions will become more effective in the process of doing. • Do not try to overcome obstacles; reduce their level of importance. Indulgently repenting one’s sins and mistakes in life is the same as showing off one’s virtues and accomplishments. • Everything can be done a lot more simple than you think. Yield to simplicity. Few Quotes – 1. The hardest role to play is the one where you play yourself and allow yourself to remove the mask and be yourself. 2. It is very difficult to shift to a life of prosperity if you despise your own poverty, envy the wealthy, and constantly wish you were better off. 3. People usually have an excellent idea of the things they do not wish to experience and only have a vague sense of what they desire. 4. Once you have accepted the possibility of failure, do not think, just move in the direction of your goal.

[falsebooles123]

In Search of the Missing Link - Diary of a Big Ole Gay 1/6/23

Hey Whores, so first big news.I got layed off from my dayjob so yay?

But actually while I hated the job It kinda sucks. I've been job hunting and rationally I know that its only been like 3 days but mentally/emotional it feels like I will die pennyless and alone.

Also um feel free to give me money on my Ko-Fi if though feels so inclined.

Anyway sluts and hoebags heres what this blogs about

A Full Ass List of Movies I Can't Find and or are Lost

note: subject to change I'm having it here as a way of recordkeeping.

Films That Are Actually Lost

Why Bring That Up (1929) dir. George Abbot (the film adaptation of two white guys minstral act, (i.e Blackface), this is a very specific curio to 1920's vauldville to the best of my knowledge this has been lost and honestly I don't think anybody was going to miss it.)

Die Büchse der Pandora (1919) dir. Arzén von Cserépy (I like to call it Asta's Nielsens Pandora's Box. It is an earlier adaptations of the Lulu play duology which most people will probably know by G.W.Pabst. To the best of my knowledge this is lost

The Crystal Cup (1927) dir. John Francis Dillon (another gay book adaptation this one is official recognized as lost)

In Private Collection

Twelth Night (1933) dir. Oscar Wilde (this film is in private collection and is essentally a home movie of his middle school play recital, why anyone knows about this to the point that its on letterboxd is absurd but here we are)

Shes a Prince (1926) dir Marcel Perez (A short comedy by famous spanish director. Currently have a research request with The Eye Film Museum in the Netherlands who have restored several of his short subjects to see if they have it in there archives)

The Kiss (1963) dir. Andy Warhol (A literally film about kissing, its owned by the Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh, I've actually just checked my email and I might be able to get some clips of the film and/or rent a digital version of it, i'll have to look into it)

Various Films dir Kenneth Anger (Anger had a habit of taking some of his films out of circulation which is fine. I have seen all of his avalable work up to the 1980s but the vast majority of his juvanilia, (essentially anything pre-fireworks), is within his private collection).

Films Not Available Online (that I know of)

Christopher Strong (1933) dir. Dorothy Arzner

Only Yesterday (1933) dir. John M. Stahl

WonderBar (1934) dir Lloyd Bacon

Blood and Roses (1960) dir. Roger Vadim

DeathWatch (1966) dir Vic Morrow

P.J (1968) dir. John Guillermin

Twelth Night (1969) dir. John Sichel

The Girl in Tails (1926) dir. Karin Swanström

If you know about any of these films please let me know in the comments of DM me.

[theworldisyourlobster]

Yozhik v tumane

Something from the archive... 

1. The Volk of Reitarskaya

A dog walked a man past an audience of girls smoking outside an empty bar. They, too busy marinating in gin to notice him.

A dog-sized horse, but I might be wrong. It may have been a horse-sized dog.  

The hound was prone to biting small Japanese women, but only when they sang "O mio babbino caro” in Madame Butterfly tones.

The mans' wife assured her guests it was the first time that had happened. I guess there aren’t many who know that opera by heart.

The wife had black shaggy hair, as did the dog and the husband. They had no children, by choice. But they spoke of this choice so often, that only the reverse seemed true. Their dark manes looked like they could have been fuller in days past, but one day during an argument about how happy they were not to have children sheep shears were pulled. Whispers of hair fell one by one until a small pile formed. They lit and shared a cigarette, ash mixing with hair. They fed the pile on Georgian flatbread and watered it with dry red wine until, out of the pile of hair a shaggy black dog appeared.

It happened so gradually they couldn’t quite pin down when it came to be. Years later they were to host a dinner where they would open their balcony doors and their white curtains would billow out seen by the occupants of a bar downstairs.

‘Devochka, why are you so sad?’ Noam was pulled out from the warm bath of thought she had been taking.

A sweaty Georgian man in an ill-fitting sweaty black turtleneck spoke in broken Russian. Looking up she saw Larissa standing on the balcony.  Larissa drank red wine, letting its tannin stain her teeth. Her tumble of black hair was being taken by the wind, she could taste the film of wine coating her tongue.

Larissa was thinking about the conversation she had had with Noam inside. Earlier, before her teeth were quite so tannin-stained, when she had had difficulty talking thoughts about the complexity and beauty of ancient Aqueducts from a programme she had seen. The fascination, too deep to meaningfully put to words or conversation.

Having young friends makes you feel older sometimes. She sighed catching sight of herself in the window, ‘What have my extra years afforded me? What have I purchased for the price of ageing?’.

She was not melancholic in this thought, her inquiry was independent of feeling.

Her fingertips were going numb. Not feeling the cold, her subconscious listened to voices inside. ‘I’m not into that dancing scene, man’ said a heavy set Berlin accent. Wanting to stay unseen, her will battled the wind, the inner warmth that had been provided by the wine had gone. Someone was singing "O mio babbino caro”. Glass empty, she gave in to the demands of her hands, angry and red. Inside, the hound greeted his mistress with a deep grumble.

‘Vadim, it’s time to take the sobaka for his walk’. As he struggled with his shoes. Once down the five flights of stairs, he continued savouring the rich evening in childlike admiration.

Vadim walked down the stairs and out onto Peyzashnaya Alleya, the sobaka lead him past the bar with  marinating youth, past the the street corner, a chocolate shop. Its windows imprisoned a circus of mechanic circus animals in motion, performing on loop to no audience.  This establishment was one of many, littering the streets of Kyiv with the mediocre chocolate boxes, labelled in cheap gold ‘.  Making this mess, Mr Vilivanko.   While feeding the peoples sweet tooth, in his spare time he dabbled in being president, as artificially sweetened as his chocolate.  His attitude to chocolate and politics was much the same,  sat at leisure ‘ none for you’ he gobbled,  as another tsookerka melted into the sweet harmonious glob he kept in his left cheek.  

 He passed four benches that framed a hedgehog sat on a plinth,‘Yozhik v tumane’ inscribed on the plaque, a hedgehog in the fog.

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

Can you do a companions react to sole with bad social anxiety finally being more confident in themself and not giving a single f anymore and being more of a social butterfly just out of nowhere

I had more ideas but I can't think of them right now

ooooo, great idea!!! 💖💖💖 I imagine Sole being extremely quiet and either hiding behind her companion or excusing herself from the room during a conversations.

Sorry that some are longer than others and if ya happen to remember your other ideas, feel free to send them in!! Nick Valentine: At first, he thought Sole was just shy around him because he was a synth. But after seeing her behavior stay the same around other people, he concluded that she must just be socially shy. Nick finds himself bailing her out of large crowds fairly often by coming up with a excuse to guide her away. One faithful day, he finds himself sitting in the Dugout Inn by Sole who was recounting one of their cases for a group of people that had gathered around them. Nick watches in pure awe as Sole starts to get into it, leaning around with wild gestures to add more drama to the story. Even Vadim is listening in as she gets to the climax of the story with tensing rising in her audience as she recounts finding Doc Crocker in the basement. When Sole finishes her story, the audience goes wild with cheers and applauds, Nick being the loudest as his eyes brim with fondness. He buys her a drink to help her wind down after all that excitement, deciding against to question her on the sudden breakthrough of socialization. He was just happy that his friend found some happiness in these hard times.

Piper Wright: She is a big chatterbox so it’s a interesting contrast when they are together. Piper finds herself carrying most of the conversations, mostly not noticing that Sole has only muttered a few words herself. Earning her the title, Bashful Blue. But one day at the Dugout Inn Piper leaves for one moment to use the restroom, only to return to loud music and loud laughter filling the room. A bunch of residents had gathered in the center to dance to the radio, which wasn’t all that surprising. What was surprising was that her Bashful Blue was being not so bashful in the center of the group laughing and dancing with everyone hyping her up. The song ends with everybody clapping and cheering for Sole who bows deeply. Piper walks up to her grinning broadly as she proclaims that Sole is no longer Bashful Blue, but now Boogieing Blue. Never has Piper felt prouder for her friend as Sole takes her hand to lead them back to the dance floor so that they can dance the night away.

Codsworth: Knows that it must be increditably hard for his mistress to adjust to such a new and frightening world. So he takes it upon himself to help her make new friends out of the friendly people they meet. Thanks to his efforts, Sole has managed to secure a few close friends. Despite the love and support Sole gets from them and Codsworth, she still extremely quiet and anxious in large crowds, often having to hurry away. So when Sole announced that she was throwing a dinner party for everyone in Sanctuary, it threw Codsworth a little off guard. But, nevertheless he rushed to help prepare for the oncoming guests. His robot heart almost burst at the sight of his mistress swishing around with a large smile and talkative spirit, greeting everyone who arrived. So many people had arrived, that the party spilled into the yard. But Sole didn’t seem to mind as she sang and danced around to the radio while Codsworth served the drinks. If the robot could smile, he would be beaming with pride.

Preston Garvey: Its a little annoying for other people when their General freezes up during a speech, but Preston doesn’t mind much. He understands it must be hard for her to adjust to such a new world, and he was going to do his best to help her. So he makes sure she doesn’t end up in any difficult situations like crowded places without a clear way out. He also makes sure to reassure her that everything is alright and that there is no need for her to be shy. On the day they finally are able to take back The Castle, Preston is surprise when Sole gets up front to make a speech. She speaks with such confidence that it was surprising, but also heartwarming and inspiring. Afterwords, he goes to find her only to see that Sole is already leading everyone in a celebratory dance in song. Preston gets a wave of pride for their General as he goes off to join her in this new victory.

Curie: She doesn’t quite understand why Sole is so quiet around other people when she is so bubbly and happy when they are alone. She is no therapist by any means, but Curie offers to talk it out with her anyways after it starts to get worrisome. It all melts away when Sole offers to go down to Bunker Hill to get a drink during a slow afternoon. When they arrive, Soles demeanor changes to a much more confident one as she strides into the place as if she owns it. Curie watch’s her with big eyes as Sole orders a drink and starts to tell a story to the bartender. Soon, a group of people started to crowd around her as Sole recounted a tale about a stolen Deathclaw egg. Oh! Curie was so happy that Sole was enjoying herself and the positive attention she was receiving with a smile.

Cait: Ah, it’s annoying at bars when she is trying to have a good time and Sole is all quiet and fidgety in the corner. But she will never say anything to Soles face, and if anyone has a problem with it they will be meet with the end of Caits fists. When Sole one day offers to go out for the evening, it took Cait by surprise. She didn’t think much of it, figured they stay for a few minutes before leaving. But when Sole starts dancing around to the radio, Cait almost spits out her drink. (Water) She rushes over to yell at Sole for drinking too much while they were out, but Sole insists that she isn't drunk and just wants to dance. She ends up drawing in a crowd, but doesn’t seem to mind as she prances happily around, and Cait can’t help but grin at her friends newfound confidence.

Deacon: Made it his personal mission to break Sole out of her “cocoon” and transform her into a social butterfly. So, whenever she was near people, he made small talk with them, making sure to include her in their conversations. He also gives her over the top pep talks before any socialization, going all “Yasssss Queeeen!” In her face until she falls over in laughter. This seemed to work as Sole started to build confidence in herself and she starts to initiate conversations on her own. But the real victory was when she busted down dancing in front of the whole HQ after a successful mission. While everyone else clapped along, Deacon could only stand off to the side with a smug prideful smile. Mission accomplished.

Danse: He had a particularly hard time convincing everyone that Sole was a good solider, even though she couldn’t look anyone in the eye and shrank back at the slightest interaction. He suggested that she should go speak with Captain Cade to see if he can help her with her anxiety, after all, it was no laughing matter. He made sure to let her know that he was there to support her, and that seemed to help. One day, he was walking around to find her when her voice loudly rang out. Sole was surrounded by squired who were berating her with questions on her adventures in the Commonwealth. Sole didn’t seem to mind as she answered each question with confidence and clarity. He made sure to applauded her later on this new breakthrough.

Hancock: Doesn’t see why someone so badass like her has to be all quiet all the time, but it’s her life not his. Hancock ends up doing all the talking anyway, so there is not much of an issue. He does make sure to let her know that she has no reason to be so anxious and can relax a little, might even offer her some chems to help. One day, he stumbles into the Third Rail for a drink and finds that Sole is there laughing her head off with some other residences. Before he can go over and ask why the hell he wasn't invite to all the fun, Sole jumps onto the stage and starts loudly singing into the mic. While everyone else starts cheering and whistling, Hancock can only stare with his mouth half open. When she finishes, he runs up to her to congratulate her on newfound confidence, even offering to buy her a drink to celebrate.

MacCready: It completely ruins the whole “Tough Boss.” look he was hoping for. It was annoying whenever she rushed away during a party, especially when it was just getting good. He wont say anything outright, maybe a little childish whining and complaining but nothing further. When they are sitting together one day after a long day, someone strides up to them to ask about their latest adventure in Quincy. MacCready sighs and is about to recount the tale when Sole speaks up. She loudly and dramatically starts telling them all about the fight with great detail. Her story starts to draw in a crowd, but she doesn't waiver like she usually does. When she finishes, everyone including him breaks out into applauds, with him asking where this sudden burst of confidence came from.

X6: It doesn’t really bother him all that much. Not like anyone talks to them when The Courser is around anyway. It’s tiresome when she has to talk to any scientist at The Institute, but Sole somehow mumbles her way through. He tells her that if she wants to be the best leader for The Institute, she needs to stop being so mumbly and fidgety all the time. One day while he patrolled around Sanctuary, he stopped at the sound of laughter and Soles loud voice. When he got closer to investigate, he found Sole standing in the middle of a group recounting the tale of fighting a Glowing Deathclaw with only a few bullets left. While the story itself was interesting, the fact that Sole was talking with pure confidence in herself was the most interesting part to him. He couldn't wait to report to Father that his Mother was improving in her social skills and was becoming a better leader.

Strong: The super mutant hates that his mighty human gets scared of lots of other puny humans when she could easily just crush them. When Sole explains that she is just socially anxious, he throws down a big bloody piece of meat to help heal the “anxious”. The next day when he goes looking for her so that they can looks for the milk of human kindness, he sees her surrounded by a bunch of people. Worried that she was under attack, he rushed over ready to aid her, but stopped when he saw her laughing. Sole was telling a story to the large group of people, not even a whiff of fear on her. When she finished, he lumbered over and proudly announced that the meat cured her of “the anxious”. (Please don’t ask Strong for medical advice.)

Dogmeat: He doesn’t mind that his human is constantly rushing out of rooms, it gives him plenty more time to snuggle her and load her with puppy kisses. But it does worry him a little that she smells like worry and fear, so he makes sure to give her extra kisses so she can feel better. And if anyone dares come near her in these moments, they are going to get a snarling growl. One day, when he goes to get his daily does of pets he senses something different. Sole is in a large room that was filled with people, yet he couldn’t smell and fear on her. In fact, she seemed pretty happy, and was even laughing. Curious, Dogmeat decides to get closer. His ears perk as music starts to play and people start to dance around him. His puppy heart leaps with joy when Sole starts dancing too!! So he gets on his hind legs and does a few jumps with her, adding a few twirls and barks for extra effect. He wants to do this again sometime, it made his human so happy!

Moral of the story: If you are socially anxious, all you need to cure it is a bloody piece of meat then you are set for life. (That was a joke, please don’t eat raw meat.)

Im sorry this one took awhile, I had lots of fun writing it! 💖🥰💖🥰💖

[zorya-wellness]

Lammas/Lughnasadh Pagan Holiday

Lammas or Lughnasadh is a Pagan holiday celebrated on August 1st. It symbolizes the end of the summer period (yes, even though you may not want to hear that we are on our way to the end) and the beginning of magical fall.

The Lammas holiday is also closely connected to the harvest season.

It is traditionally believed that the period of Lammas celebration was very important in the religious communities, not only from the perspective of Pagan or Christian traditions  but also due to its agricultural significance.

Lammas versus Lughnasadh. What Is The Difference?

First of all, let’s talk about terminology a bit.

Lammas comes from Anglo-Saxon hlaf-mas, "loaf-mass", therefore also known as Loaf Mass Day and it is a Christian holiday.

The celebration of this holiday by the Christian community is in part similar to what we will be discussing later. The holiday signifies a period of being blessed by the first gifts of the harvest season. The wheat collected is often used to make the Lammas bread that would later be brought to church for a blessing.

Lughnasadh or Lughnasa is the name used by the “Neopagan” community and just as Lammas, marks the beginning of the harvest period. It is the time when we are grateful for the abundance of the Mother Earth.

How to pronounce Lughnasadh?

The term Lughnasadh comes from the Irish spelling of the word. The Modern way of Irish  pronunciation is Lúnasa and pronounced Loo-nuh-suh. The Classical pronunciation is /’luɣ.nə.səð/ like LUGH-nuh-sudh (where “gh” is pronounced as i a word "give" and the “dh” is like the “th” in “that”.) It is probably the most correct pronunciation of Lughnasadh, as Lugh or Lug is the God from Irish mythology and the one this holiday is dedicated to at the first place.

How Lammas Originated?

Lammas came from a desire of people to thank and celebrate the “father” Sun and the Mother Earth for the fruits of their “love” - the harvest.

To bless the marriage of God and Goddess and ask for a buy dance and prosperity in the upcoming months.

It was considered that August 1st marks the first day of fall. And on August 2nd it was already the time to pick up the harvest and so the days of hunger and need would we over.

The holiday was widely celebrated in:

Ireland: the name Lughnasadh comes from the Irish God Lugh and is translated at “the marriage of Lugh.

Scotland

Isle of Man

In Slavic countries (called “medovyi spas”)

Let’s Talk More About The Harvest.

When we hear “Lammas”, we often think about the period of harvest right away. It is the most talked about moment of Lammas or Lughnasadh but we need to truly understand what stands behind the concept of harvest.

If you are a careful reader, you have noticed I specifically say the beginning of harvest. I also want to explain more what I mean by the time of being grateful.

You see, Lammas is the day of the beginning of the harvest period and NOT the time when we are assessing the outcome and are drawing conclusions of how successful we’ve been (there will be another holiday dedicated to this, called Mabon).

But the first day of harvest is the time when the quality of life changes. It is the time when it becomes predictable what expectations we can have and taste the first ripe fruits.

Simply put, it is the moment when something you worked so hard on, finally becomes tangible and it also becomes YOURS.

A skill you were developing is almost acquired but not to the point when it becomes a reflex. The investments you’ve made are starting to produce some cash flow but still need your attention.

You also need to understand that it is not possible to continuously perfect something or wait for an opportune moment.  At some point, you need to release into the world what you have the way it is and improve things on the go.

Where am I going with this philosophical deviation, you probably are wondering…

This is what Lammas period really is about. It is the time when we transition from preparation to action.

What does it mean for you in real life situation?

Lammas gives you are opportunity of the perfect time to do something you were afraid of doing.

It may be that you were working on a website for your very own blog but we’re too afraid to press that “publish” button, thinking it is not perfect yet.

Or you may have been writing a book but haven’t started to search for a publisher, changing and tweaking things in an attempt for it to be perfect.

You may have been doing research for a new job you always wanted or university program you wanted to apply for but haven’t felt ready to finally made the move and submit an application.

Do you see the pattern?

Lammas is the time when you were ALREADY in the process of doing something but haven’t had the energy for the final step. And this period of the first week of August is for you to pull yourself together and make the move.

And when Mabon comes, we will be assessing the results of our actions.

"Can I celebrate Lughnasadh if I’m not pagan?"

First of all, like I mentioned in my other Blog posts related to the Wheel of the Year, you don’t need to be Pagan to celebrate or acknowledge Wheel of the Year holidays.

RELATED: What Is Pagan Wheel of the Year and How to Celebrate It? Beginner Pagan's Guide

You need to be aware of the existence of the energy of the Mother Earth, it’s changes and shifts and how this affects our lives.

So, What Can You Do To Celebrate Lughnasadh/Lammas?

Lammas/Lughnasadh Traditions and Rituals

Do Some Lammas Divination Work

The period from July 31st to August 6th is the perfect time for divination work. Tarot, Runes and oracles will provide with great messages, especially in career/money (material) and love questions (especially compatibility related).

Don’t forget to show gratitude to the Universe and Mother Earth. It is important to maintain the energy exchange, at the very least with the well known gratitude and love practices.

Show gratitude towards others too, don’t forget to show acknowledgment and say “thank you”.

Make Lammas Bread

During this period, it is the great time to infuse your food and drinks with the energy of love and gratitude, as well as thank the Source and the Planet for its generosity. Of course, the best way to celebrate this holidays is to make Lammas bread. I am giving you this quick bread recipe that does not require a lot of products or special skills

Lammas Abundance Bread Recipe

For this little Ritual you will need to make (not buy!) corn bread.

Lammas Bread Ingredients:

1 1/2 cup of corn flour

1 1/2 cup wheat flour

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 cup of sugar 2 tbs of cooled down melted butter

4 cups of milk

2 tsp of baking powder

Instructions:

Mix flour and salt together in a deep bowl.In a separate bowl with milk add baking powder;  then add sugar and butter.Mix all the ingredients together in one bowl until the consistency is that of a sour cream. It will not be similar to regular bread dough you may be making at home.

*While you are mixing, talk into the bowl anything you want to accomplish that is related to the abundance. Whatever the abundance means to YOU. It does not have to be financial. Maybe you will feel abundant and complete when you have a large family. Then go for it.

Pour the Lammas bread dough into a baking dish (don't forget to butter the dish). Bake for about 40-50 minutes at 360 degrees F.When the colour is nice and golden, take the bread out and let it cool.

When you sit down for a meal, break off (not cut) a large piece of Lammas bread and say: "Large piece of bread in my hand will bring me abundance and plenty." Don’t forget to share your food with the Gods (leave some bread in nature, the way you see fit and depending on the type of deity you are working with.)

Lughnasadh Home Blessing and Abundance Ritual

This ritual can be done during the same time as you are making your Lammas bread.

It is done to invite luck and abundance into your home. BUT. You can change your intent to protection, if you’d like.

All you need to do is to set aside some dough when you are making it for your break and create a figure of an animal. My personal suggestion is to select a farm animal due to the nature of the energy of this holiday.

When you are done, you will need to follow basic figure talisman activation steps. I have adapted the suggestions of Vadim Zeland for this.

*If you are interested in who Vadim Zeland is, click here to read more about him. His book Reality Transurfing has changed my life forever.

Animal activation steps:

Come up with a name for your animal

Take a deep breath. Now breathe into the animal, imagining giving it energy and life.

Tell the animal its name. Tell it that you love and care for it and, in exchange, it's helping you with (whatever you want to ask for).

Place the animal anywhere in the house, depending on the task you give it.

Don't forget to revisit daily and remind the animal of your love and the important task it is doing for you.

Don’t forget to check out complete Blog Post on my website for more information on Lammas traditions, as well as my other Blog posts on Pagan holidays, Rune Meanings and more.

[hottopicabbacchio]

gah. take two

Skagen voice that guy is like me but in real life

Vadim voice i miss my goth, tails....

Skagen belongs to @corpsoir !!

SORRY ABT NOT HAVING A READ MORE im on mobile but for some context Vadim's stand (Climbing Up The Walls) is good for long distance, he kinda can activate it but its more remote after that where it does it own thing. more of a tracking stand but has some fighting power, but its main thing is causing feelings of unease and paranoia to make the target hes tracking either end their life on their own from it or make them weak for when he gets to them himself. Vadim cant let it go on too long though due to the way he got his stand hes not entirely in control of it, so at a certain point (about a day) he also feels the effects but more so and Climbing Up The Walls comes back to him and he loses that target for a bit.

ANYWAY thats a bit important because i thought itd be silly to make Vadim and Risotto exes and Vadim a part of la squadra since his stand is optimal for assassin stuff. idk the whole reason for him leaving Risotto and la squadra yet but hes on the run (because you dont just leave the mafia) and the context of these is what if Vadim went "these fishing islands seem like a great place to hide and avoid people from getting close to me again" and then Skagen see him and goes. spiderman point JUST like me.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Hey! You know they prompt with the m!companions waking up after spending the night with some and don’t find them in the bed? Could you do that with F!!companions too? No pressure! /gen

Female!FO4 Companions react to Waking Up Alone After Spending the Night with Sole.

Sooooo, thank you so much for asking for this, cuz I had written about half of it, and then totally forgotten about it until I got this ask, so you are awesome!

This is the second installment to this post (M!FO4 Companions with this prompt) and there will be a part with FO3 and FONV companions as well... eventually 😅

I hope you all enjoy! (And I sincerely apologize in advance for the ridiculous length of this thing [Cait's in particular], I don't know what happens, I think I have a problem. But I super appreciate all of you who stick around to read it all, each and every one of you have my heart.)

Cait:

     A dull ache persisted in Cait's muscles when she stirred beneath the sheets, she scrunched her eyebrows together as her lids rose to reveal the still dark, still disheveled hotel room. What the hell happened last night? The question briefly flashed across her mind before she recalled it. Recalled everything. Cait groaned, stretching out over the mattress, fully prepared to reunite with her lover, to wake you up in the best of ways, to touch you and be with you the way she had been last night.

Fuck. Last night… How the hell had it taken the two of you so long to do that?

Damn trust issues. Can’t they just leave me alone? Look at the good that happens when ya just let me be.

Last night had been the first time you two had been together, the first time the two of you had been intimate, and open, and honest, and real. For the first time in… hell, as long as she could remember, Cait had been her authentic self. Untainted by the venom she had injected into her veins for so long, unaffected by the liquid crutch she frequently relied on to bar her from facing herself. Even her vast insecurities hadn’t been able to touch her amid the bliss of her night with you. Because you had been authentic too, you weren’t trying to impress her, or pressure her, you didn’t pass judgement on her level of experience, didn’t berate her for her roughness, for engaging in your intimate act the only way she knew how, the only way it had ever happened when someone else initiated it, as it had always been for her. She couldn’t understand it herself, the way you’d been so patient with her, had communicated with her through everything, focused on her comfort, and her pleasure… It was so foreign to her, so unfamiliar in comparison to every other person she had been with. The act she had engaged in so many times before almost felt… new.

“Alright, what do ya say, luv? You still sore, or d’ya want to give it another go?” She shifted abruptly, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she turned to your side of the bed, green eyes glittering with ill intent, before surprise washed over them. Crimson brows rose high over the wide emerald orbs and she felt her nostrils flare unwittingly at the sight of your distinct absence.

Instantly, she wished she hadn’t turned to try and look at you. Wished that she could’ve stayed facing away just a little longer, where she could safely revel in the bliss of your night together without any consequences. She could have gazed out over the ruined hotel room, could have blushed uncharacteristically as she relived last night’s… rearrangement of all the furniture in the room. Could have kept imagining you there beside her, just as sore and worn out, but just as ready to see where this would go next. Now though…

Cait at least had the courtesy to glance around the space surrounding her before making any quick judgements, but the room was a fucking small one, and it took all of a moment to see that she was truly alone in it. Not only that, but everything belonging to you was gone too.

Now this. This shit I remember. This is all too familiar.

Normally she would have been relieved to wake up alone. It always meant she could have some peace, that she could wake up on her own terms, without harassment or expectation, without prying hands roughly dragging her from her dreams and slamming her back down into her nightmarish reality. But with you… shit was different. Even more painful than waking up next to someone she feared and despised was waking up without you by her side. The truth was like a flaming brand being pressed mercilessly to her chest, making plain to herself and everyone around her that she was hurt. That you had hurt her. She never thought the day would come.

Cait had come to the realization last night that you might be the only person who’s put her before yourself, who’s done something kind for her, who’s helped her without expecting anything in return. She came to the realization that she trusted you. More than anyone else in her life, more than Tommy, more than her own damn parents; she thought you were the only person who would never hurt her. The fact that she had been wrong made her want to spit. To curse, and fight the darkness that began to claw its way back into her heart. The same darkness you had helped expel in that vault.

She shook her head vigorously. Red hair catching in her damp eyelashes as she ground her teeth together until they ached. She wanted to scream. But dammit, she wasn’t going to let anyone know that this shit bothered her. Wasn't going to let them pity her at the sight of the hot brand you'd left on her heart when she realized you were gone.

No, she wouldn’t scream, wouldn’t let anyone hear the sounds of anguish spilling from her lips. The walls of the hotel room were paper thin, as the two of you had discovered last night after some… complaints had been issued. But Vadim had been a good sport about it. Cait wished she could look back on the memory fondly, but the glow of her euphoria was tainted red and black. An infected wound festering deep in the pit of her stomach, the hollow of her chest, the recesses of her mind.

Cait tore the blankets from her body, the thin material sticking to her sweat-dampened skin as she clambered off the mattress and began to rage around the room, snatching bits of clothing from their places on the floor and furniture. She roughly jerked up her trousers and buttoned up her corset, the action proving to be difficult as her chest expanded with her ragged inhalations. Through her fury-fogged mind, she tried to come up with a plan. Where would she go now that she didn't have you? Surely you wouldn't return to her after this. You'd gotten what you wanted, apparently; and if she was honest, she'd rather never see your face again after you'd done this to her. Made her feel this way. Made her feel filthy, and angry, and foolish, and used. Cait released a verbal sound of disgust as she threw together the last of her things. Shouldering her pack, she prepared to leave the room. Sorry Yefim, I can't be in here another fucking second. You'll have to put the furniture back yourself.

Cait slammed the hotel room door behind her, brows set low, heart pounding audibly against her chest as she loitered in front of the door, thinking about where to go next. What to do next. She couldn’t return to the combat zone, what would Tommy think? What would he say? She didn’t much care, but she didn’t want to find out either. Without Sole, what the hell was there out there for her? A flash of her potential future crossed her consciousness and she briefly saw herself crammed into some seedy corner of a bar somewhere, offering her muscle in return for some meager bits of tin, which she’d more than likely use to buy herself yet another drink at the next dive she found herself in. A vicious cycle, free of ambition, free of fulfillment, free of enjoyment… and yet, that future was more than she had ever expected for herself just a few short months ago. Back then, she would’ve given her left arm for a chance at that life, because at least she would be free. But now… you had changed everything. Helped her get clean, helped her drag herself out of the chasm her parents had forced her to dig herself into from the moment she was old enough to hold a shovel. She had wanted more for her life since meeting you. Had expected more. By your side, she had had more. And now you’d torn that away from her too, and though she wanted with every raging fiber of her being to be able to prove to you, to everyone, that she didn’t need anyone’s help to achieve that sort of life, she knew that, with you gone, reverting back to her old ways was damn near inevitable. Her jaw clenched at the thought, and she bit back a growl at the pain spreading in her chest.

Fuck this. I need a drink.

She let her hand fall from the doorknob to the now empty hotel room and made her way to the liquor counter at the Dugout Inn. Her expression drove away any potential for conversation as she sat at her stool, knocking back her full glass of whiskey. Even Vadim had stayed quiet, his usual bawdy personality remained muted as he poured her another glass and set it on the counter in front of her.

Even the bittersweet taste of her own reckless self-enablement couldn't expel the burning poison that had settled in her gut since her discovery that you had left her alone. And although she didn't have a single fucking clue what she was going to do next, that didn't seem to be what bothered her, as the whiskey began to cloud her mind and her judgement. No, it wasn't what she was going to do, it was what you were going to do. Where would you go without her? Alright, fine, you'd had your way with her, used her for your pleasure and then ran, but where to? And why do I care so damn much? A small voice asked her in the back of her mind. She decided not to grace its inquiry with a conscious answer.

Instead, she rose from her stool, slammed down a handful of caps on the counter, and half expected Vadim to ask where the room payment was, but he just smiled as he slid his hand over the pile of tin and drew it closer to him, to stash it away behind the bar. It didn't matter that Cait had no idea where she was going, she just had to leave this place. The alcohol that was meant to distract her, to numb the throbbing ache in her chest, only seemed to enhance her pain as her over exaggerated emotions surrounding the night the two of you had shared came pouring to the front of her mind. She was pissed. But not at you anymore. Was it herself? Why would she be pissed at herself? It's not like it was her fault you decided to fucking leave… Or...

Cait shook her head vigorously, pausing at the exit into Diamond City as she tried to straighten her crooked thoughts. Was it something I did? Is that why you left? Was I… not good enough? Too good? Too rough? Too unemotional? God, she sounded so whiney and insecure. Felt so insecure, so vulnerable, so guilty, so filthy.

Still trapped in her troubling thoughts, Cait attempted to finally leave the inn, letting the door slam shut behind her as she set off brusquely towards the gate leading out to the Commonwealth. She hardly noticed the body trailing her, splitting off from the crowd in the city center, and following her at an aggressive pace akin to her own. When the hand grasped at her shoulder, she almost turned around swinging, prepared to knock the teeth out of whoever decided it was a decent idea to fucking touch her right now. But her fist stilled in its clenched position beside her body, as her forest eyes widened in surprise at the person standing in front of her.

You?

You…

You!

Instead of swinging her prepared fist directly into your face, she brought up both arms, shoving them forward harshly against your shoulders, forcing you a few feet backwards, likely bruising you in the process.

"Fuck off, Sole." Was all she could manage before she turned away, back towards the gate. What the hell was she supposed to make of this?! You were gone. But now you were here? It doesn't matter now, because you could never take back the way you made her feel when she woke up alone in that dingy fucking hotel room.

"Hey!" She heard you call from behind, but she pressed on, even as your footsteps echoed behind her.

"Cait, wait! Just hold on a second. Where are you going?" Even when words failed you, it seemed the stubbornness she admired so much prevailed, as you gruffly wrenched her to the side, pulling her into the alcove behind the Publick Occurrences building.

"I can explain."

Cait wrenched her arm from your grasp, attempting to turn away, her emerald eyes blazing as they refused to acknowledge you.

"Cait, please. I swear, I was coming right back. I wasn't going to just--" you tried to explain, but she silenced you with her searing look as her head lashed towards you once more.

"I thought I told you to fuck off. Ya can't justify this shite to me, Sole. I know what the hell you were playin’ at. You fucking used me, and if that's all ye kept me round for, then you can just leave me alone. Ye got what ye wanted, didn't ya?” Your mouth hung open as you waited to get a word in, but the redhead continued, a menacingly somber expression creasing the lines of her face, “At least the assholes that used me before did it because I was their slave. You actually had me thinkin' you cared about me.” She said quietly, her gaze falling to the floor as the weight of her realization fell upon her.

“Well, you can forget I was ever even here. I'm done." Her eyes snapped back to yours before she went to turn away from you once again.

You were rendered momentarily speechless by her accusations. You wondered how the hell she couldn't know how you felt about her, especially after last night. You thought you'd made it pretty damn clear.

You didn't speak, you needed to use action now, as she started towards the gate, you reached out your hand, grasping firmly at her upper arm and wrenching her towards you. Into you. And even as she tried to pull away, to tear herself from your firm grip, you pulled her in for a kiss. It was sloppy, your teeth clacked together painfully and your mind began to demand why you'd done it at all, but as you pulled away from it quickly, you knew why. As Cait recovered from the surprise contact, you finally managed to get a few words in.

"I do care about you." You told her, your forceful hold on her arm giving way to a more gentle, but still unyielding, touch. "I wasn't trying to leave you. I had to speak to Arturo about that mod I wanted to get for your shotgun, remember? He said we had to do it before he opened, but you were still asleep. I-- I didn't want to wake you. I was coming right back, Cait. I would never leave you, never use you like that. I'm not like them, I could never-- I just, God, do you really think I could do that to you?" Cait's eyes met your own, the emerald fires in their depths wavering to smoldering coals as she saw the hurt shining in your gaze. Your upturned brows, the concern etched into your features, your soft touch on her arm being pulled away slowly; Cait could see the pain in your every movement, the pain at her accusation, and the pain at realizing what little she thought of herself.

Even just a moment ago, her answer would have been different, but at the desperation in you eyes, your will for her to see the truth behind your words, she couldn't bring herself to say what her mind wanted her to. What, after so many years of abuse and horror and mistrust, it had defaulted to saying in the event that anyone could actually tell her they cared for her. Her mind wanted to deny your confession the same way it denied any kind words that were directed towards her, in order to protect her heart from another brutal beating, but this time, it was her heart that seemed to prevail.

"No." She said softly, "I guess I didn't think ye could do that to me. Can't ya see? That's what made it hurt so damn much. I never thought you'd do that shite to me. And then, when I woke up an you were gone, I just… It just didn’t make any fuckin’ sense." She brought a hand up to wipe at her face, maybe to hide the lower lip that began to tremble at her words. 

Don’t fucking cry. Don’t you even think about it, ya damn baby. Cait tore her hand away, looking to you for some kind of response as she tried to harden her expression once more.

“I’m so sorry, Cait." You told her, taking one of her hands in your own to punctuate everything you had to say, "It’ll never happen again. I swear. I never want to hurt you ever again.”

The brawler felt a lightness in her chest at your words, words that she had never heard anyone say to her before, as you promised something so alien to her ears that she almost thought she had heard you wrong. She felt her heartbeat pick up as her eyes met yours again, the fire all but subdued as the weight of what you’d said sunk in. You promised to never hurt me... She didn’t know what to say, but she had to say something.

“Yeah? Well, it had better not happen again.” You grinned at that, releasing a breath of amusement and relief as Cait's own half-smile played at her lips. “Alright lassie/lad, care fer a drink? I think I might need another after all this.” She pulled her hand from your grasp and encircled your shoulders with her arm as she started off towards the Dugout Inn once again.

“Another?” You asked, brows raised, and the woman beside you just chuckled.

Curie:

     Goose prickles peppered uncomfortably over Curie’s exposed skin as a chill ran through her body. Being cold was a sensation that she was still quite unused to; however, even from her limited experience, she had to say, she wasn’t a fan. Curie let out a soft whine as she shifted beneath the thin blanket that snaked around her body, reaching out one arm to slide over the mattress in search of you, and your warmth.

“Mon Dieu?” She ventured softly, eyes still half closed as she peered around the hills of fabric upon the mattress. Sitting up, Curie rubbed at her sleep-filled eyes, still groggy from her hours of rest. Yet another human tendency that I must become more accustomed to. Her hands dropped to her lap as she turned her head to either side, eyebrows creasing together in confusion at the realization that she was alone.

“Sole?” She called, her uncertainty making her voice higher than usual. Perhaps you have gone to relieve yourself, as humans often tend to do after sleeping... Curie stretched her arms upwards before gathering the covers around her, effectively cocooning herself atop your bed, and sat waiting for you to return. Her eyes moved slowly as she took in the room around her. She had hardly gotten a good look last night, and before this, she had never been here before. At least, had never been in your room, but from what she could see in the dim light, it was pretty similar to the others. Curie thought that she never would return to Vault 81, considering the amount of time she had spent here, she figured she had had her fill of the place, but when the radiation storm hit, and the vault was the closest shelter you could think of, she couldn’t argue with the logic of the two of you waiting out the storm here. And she was glad she hadn’t tried. If she had insisted on taking shelter elsewhere, who knows what would have happened? You could have developed radiation sickness, or encountered some form of hostilities, or been stuck wandering and searching for shelter elsewhere all night long! But you hadn’t, no, the two of you had instead done other things all night long.

Curie's spine tingled as she noticed her heart skip a beat in her chest, and she felt her eyes crinkle up as she grinned, clutching the bed sheets tightly in her hands at the thought of the night you two had shared. The way your soft, sweet lips had pressed to hers, giving way to a cacophony of glorious, and thrillingly unfamiliar sensations. She recalled a gentleness, a sort of calm before the storm; dipping her toe into a pool of water, before wading in up to her knees, only to delve straight into the swirling, tumbling sea without a second glance back to the shore.

She had wanted, more than anything, to experiment in such a way with you, but she had been so unsure with how to proceed. So, when you had pressed your lips to hers gently in the night, and whispered that you wanted to do with her what she had been dreaming of since she first laid her human eyes upon you, Curie could barely contain her enthusiasm. All she wanted now was to be close to you once more, to discuss all that she had learned last night. About herself, and about you; but not because she wished to document it. No, this was not for research purposes, as she had once thought it would be, for there was nothing clinical about what the two of you had done together. At least, not in Curie’s eyes. To her, it was much, much more than a science. It was a feeling. It was… more, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but something that made her stomach drop and her heart leap in her chest. Is it… could it be what they call… love?

It felt like hours that Curie was sitting there on the bed, awaiting your return. The time was comparable to the near 200 years she had spent alone on the other side of this very same vault. The synth found herself feeling conflicted about a number of things in this instance. She wasn't sure how she felt about Vault 81 anymore. She thought she couldn't stand the place before; however, last night she wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else in the world, but now, she couldn't wait to leave this place and go out to find you. She felt as though, if she stayed, she would be unable to leave once again, held here in this spot for another couple centuries; and maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if you were here with her, but… That was yet another item on her agenda of conflicting emotions to consider. Here Curie sat, completely alone, feeling as though she may be in love for the first and only time in her existence and you were just… gone. This was arguably the most important discovery she had ever made, and she wanted nothing more than for you to be here to help her make sense of this breakthrough of hers. Curie felt as though she had finally reached the level of inspiration required to achieve something great in the field of science, and it was all because of you. But she was still… confused? She couldn't imagine your reason for leaving, had she done something wrong? She had never done anything like this before, so it wouldn't be entirely surprising if she hadn't been particularly skilled in the acts of intimacy, but she certainly had felt good enough… had you not? Or perhaps this was customary for people to do after their first time being together in such a way? If that was the case, Curie would need an explanation as to why it had to be this way. Why you had to be gone when she felt she needed to be near you so urgently.

At that moment, Curie decided she needed to get out of this room, to look for you, yes, but also to prove to herself that she could, in fact, leave any time that she wished. To prove to herself that she wasn't going to be imprisoned here again. Curie sucked in a breath as she uncovered her bare body and exposed her skin to the chill of the recycled vault air. Quickly, she found her garments, some scattered on the floor, others wrapped in the mess of covers on the bed; and her theory regarding your disappearance was further confirmed as she found none of your own clothes in the places you had left them last night. She released a shaky breath, mumbling incoherently to herself as she often did in stressful situations, as she packed her bag in preparation to leave the vault. When she went to reach for the laser pistol that you had gifted her when she had become a synth, she noticed something that didn't quite add up. Your bag was still near the door… so perhaps, you hadn't left the vault after all? Curie's heart leaped in her chest, and in that next moment, she had dropped her travel bag, and was quickly moving towards the door that led out into the common area of the vault. As the doors slid to a close behind her, Curie's head whipped from side to side, aqua eyes passing over the monochrome hallways as she sought you out, searching for a 111 rather than an 81 among the sea of blue suits. Her eyes came to rest toward the elevator as she heard it grinding downwards, and she started towards it expectantly at the sound, before pausing abruptly when she heard her name being called from behind.

Her head swung back around to see you jogging towards her from the far end of the vault, a flush at your cheeks and a small smile decorating your sweet lips.

"And where are you running off to?” You said as you reached the synth, “You couldn't possibly leave me after--"

"Mon cheri! I was missing you this morning!" Curie's words echoed loudly off the steel walls surrounding the two of you as her excitement forced the words from her mouth at an unreasonable volume for your close proximity. Her relief at seeing you left her utterly unashamed at the blatant enthusiasm she had for your return. So much so, that she was even feeling bold enough to close the space between the two of you, her arms wrapping tightly around you as she buried her head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your comforting and familiar scent. You only just had time to return her embrace before she pulled away, her arms unraveling around your neck as she brought both hands up to caress your face. Her bright eyes seemed to glitter as they peered deeply into your own, her elated expression infectious as her thumbs stroked over your cheeks gently. Curie opened her mouth, as though she were about to speak, but when your gaze fell to rest upon her parted lips, she couldn't help but lean forward until she felt your mouth on her own. The kiss was sweet and soft, expelling Curie's chill as the contact warmed her from the inside out. As you pulled away slowly, still a little baffled by the sudden contact, you opened your eyes in time to notice her fluttering lashes and pink dusted cheekbones as a flustered grin spread onto her face.

"What timing you have, mon amour," she said, eyes still locked to yours, "I so urgently felt the need to speak to you, for I have just made zhe most brilliant discovery!"

Piper:

     Piper had never had a dream like that before. It had felt so real. It left her flustered and out of breath as she stirred groggily among the blankets in the loft of her Diamond City home. 

She could still feel the warmth of another's skin pressed against hers, taste the salt of sweat on her lips, feel the shuddering jolt of her pleasure shooting up her spine. It all felt so genuine, so memorable, it was as though… No. It couldn’t be… with you? 

As Piper dipped into her post-slumber conscious reality, she felt a distinct soreness in her body that nearly confirmed her sub-conscious assumption. But she had to know for sure. Piper imagined she would have to wrench open her eyes in order to verify her prediction, but as she took a deep breath in through her nose, and your familiar scent, accompanied by the distinct musty smell that happened to permeate the room after such activities occurred made itself known, she couldn’t have kept her eyes closed if she had tried. 

They flew open as an excited squeak escaped her, and she pulled the covers off from where they obstructed her needy hazel-green gaze. 

“Blue?” She tried, speaking quietly, but unable to keep the elation from her voice. “Pssst, hey, you awake yet?” Her hands gathered up the blankets beside her, drawing them away from where she assumed they were covering your sleeping form. But they just kept coming, she pulled and pulled, gathering more fabric between her fingers, spilling the material up over her own body until the mattress was revealed. The empty mattress. She cocked an eyebrow at the sight, a question she silently posed to the barren space where you were meant to be. Where her subconscious and conscious self both had practically guaranteed you would be. Now, the reporter was confused. 

Deciding that this was perhaps not the most ideal angle for exploration, she raised up into a sitting position, flattening her wild hair with one hand as the other kept the covers drawn up around her. 

“Blue?” She questioned a little louder. Maybe you’re downstairs… fixing breakfast? It wouldn’t surprise her. You had always been thoughtful in that way, always seeming to look out for everyone but yourself. Damn that was sexy. Piper couldn’t remember the last person she had felt this way about. Maybe there wasn’t one. No, there really was no one like her Blue; you were the closest friend she’d ever had, you trusted her, you always believed her, believed in her, you spoke to her like a person, like a friend, like someone you genuinely cared about; not like a nosy little reporter, or a pain in your ass, which is how pretty much everyone else in the world decided she was supposed to be talked to. The more she thought about it, the more it became clear to her. There wasn’t anyone like you. It was literally just you, and the fact that you and her had been together in such a way last night? Unbelievable. Incredible, dreamlike, fantastic, and perfect, yes, but completely unbelievable. Wasn’t she too overbearing? Too loud? Too stubborn, and fiery, and hot-headed? 

From the moment she met you, she thought you could only ever see her in a certain way, as the scrappy, over-emotional, noisy reporter who had gotten herself locked out of the damn gate to the damn place that she freaken lived in. You had helped her, sure, and that was amazing, but she thought you’d never want to see her again after the encounter. However, as it turns out, she had been wrong. Mercifully, she had been wrong. Piper had never imagined that you would take her up on her offer to interview you, but when Nat had pulled you through the door, a firm grip locked around your wrist as she dragged you forward, and you had smiled at her, and agreed enthusiastically to answer her questions, she couldn’t help but flash her own silly grin over at you, desperate to try and hold back the joyous little giggle that threatened to escape her lips. 

Even now, still seated upon the bed, Piper smiled to herself as she poured over her memories with you. Everything was so vivid when you were around. Black and white, white and black, the occasional grey and off-white, that was all the reporter ever seemed to see in her life, but with you… everything was vibrant. The world wasn’t quite so corrupt and unforgiving, the people around her weren’t so dismissive, so closed off, even when the weather seemed too cold to bear, the light in your eyes would warm her from the inside out, the sky was never a muted tone when she was with you, it was always a bright cacophony of warm and cool colors that melded together to form a perfect blue. And the brilliance, the dizzying, lucid radiance of the night the two of you had shared had put all other colors she could possibly imagine to shame. 

Her whole body suddenly felt so warm at the sentiment, and she couldn’t stand to be bundled in blankets any longer. She had been too busy wrapped up in her own memories to even register that you hadn’t responded to her calling for you, but she shrugged it off, assuming maybe that she simply hadn’t heard your response. Piper climbed out of bed, letting the covers fall unceremoniously onto the mattress as she quickly grabbed clean clothes from her dresser. She dressed rapidly, the voice in the back of her mind posing a question that her consciousness didn’t want to acknowledge. Instead, she thought about how funny it was that she felt so embarrassed about you potentially seeing her in the nude; since, surely, you had gotten quite the eyeful last night.

But it was dark then! She thought, nodding and chuckling to herself as she prepared to make her way downstairs. At the top, looking downward, Piper paused. Listening for any movement from below, she was almost tempted to call for you again. But something caused her to hesitate. It’s that voice again, the one that wanted to ask… No, I’m not going to think about that.

The reporter forced herself to take the first step, the wood creaking in protest below her feet as she descended to the first floor. The sound was almost like a warning to her, encouraging her to turn back the way she had come, cursing her for taking a step towards the potential disappointment that awaited her at the bottom of the stairs.

Piper tried to seem perky, but her enthusiasm was waning with every moment she spent away from you; and as she peered around the ground floor, she realized that that pesky little question she had tried to push away from her conscious self was finally answered. You were gone.

The woman’s heart sank. Her brain suddenly pelting her with question after question as to why you could have done this. When had you decided that she wasn’t what you wanted? Had she been so horrible that she completely reversed the feelings you told her you had for her? Had you never cared for her in the first place? Had you just lied to get her in bed with you? If that were the case, she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to see you again. No, she was sure it would just end in a shouting match and her potentially trying to tear your pretty eyes from your useless skull. So, she… couldn’t do that, no, people thought she was crazy enough as is. But she is a reporter… and this, what you did to her, the way you made her feel, the way you used her body and toyed with her emotions, that was a crime. She had written about crimes countless times, she could do it again... But would that even be enough to make her feel less... Angry? Hurt? Idiotic?

Argh, she was so furious! With herself, with the situation, with you, but now she wasn’t sure if what she thought was your reason for leaving was even the truth, maybe she was imagining it. What if you were out there somewhere feeling hurt like she was? Or, feeling unheard or, or neglected? She didn’t know why you would be feeling that way, but there’s always two sides to a story, and she had to think that you would have had an at least halfway decent explanation for your actions. 

What about last night though? Didn’t you feel the same way she felt? She didn’t see how you could feel any differently.  

She could only wonder at all of her rhetorical questions that were begging to be answered, but just not by her. Maybe if she found you and requested an interview again… Hmmm.

Piper didn’t know if it would work, didn’t know if she could even find you, if you would agree to an interview at all, but it was a plan, at least; and for her to know the truth of the situation, it was definitely worth a try. 

The reporter thought up her questions as she gathered together her things, trying to come up with inquiries that didn’t seem too one-sided, or confrontational, or passive aggressive; but other thoughts kept interrupting her. At some point, she knew Nat would be home from her friend’s house, she should probably wash the sheets on her mattress, she hadn’t eaten anything yet, there was no food in the house, she still needed to proofread her next story, ugh! This was not what she needed today! You had always been so supportive of her, of the paper, of her taking care of Nat, of… just her in general, her as a person, as a reporter, as a friend, and traveling companion. You had been supportive last night, had let her be vulnerable, and confident in herself, and free of any judgement. You’d made her feel good about herself in a way she never had before. And yet, you fucking left. God, it made her crazy, because she just didn’t understand. It didn’t add up, all of the evidence, the important details at the front of her mind all pointed to a different sort of conclusion. One that ended with you in the dang bed next to her the morning after you had made her feel like she could write an epic poem detailing every blissful feeling you had elicited in her. And she didn’t even write poetry!

By the time her bag was packed, Piper’s stomach was growling, she was tired again, tired and hungry and angry and sad, and every negative base emotion a person could feel. But she forced herself up the couple of steps it took to get to the exit door, reaching out her hand for the doorknob, she prepared to go out and find you. To find you, and then question you. 

In the next instance, the door was pushing her back down the stairs gruffly as it opened directly into her.  

“Ow! Hey!” She said as she was thrown backwards by the impact. Piper gruffly reached up her hands, trying to adjust her hat back onto her head properly as the body in front of her moved through the door. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Piper! Are you alright?” 

Piper paused with her hands still over her head, and looked up quickly at the sound of your voice. At first, she thought it had been Nat who decided to beat her with her own door, but, as you stood in the doorway, an apologetic smile on your face, and a shopping bag in your hand, she couldn’t deny the fact that it really was you who had just barged into her. 

You didn’t leave. You weren’t gone. She thought giddily, impulsively throwing her arms around your shoulders in her relief. For just a moment, her questions and anger could wait.

“Aw, Piper, I wasn’t gone that long. But I missed you too.” you giggled at her, drawing your own encumbered arms around her to reciprocate to the best of your abilities, “And I’m glad you forgive me for the concussion I just gave you.” 

“Where were you?” Piper asked, almost aggressively as she pulled away, still standing close enough to keep you trapped between her and the door. 

“I just had to grab some supplies from the mark--”

“And you couldn’t wait until I woke up? Do you know the kind of state you had me in this morning?! Geeze, Blue, you really are clueless sometimes, huh?”

“No! I’m sorry I was gone, but I… Here, I brought home some breakfast. I wanted to surprise you.”

You held up the bag in your hand, showcasing the clear outline of soup containers and the distinct mark of Takahashi. 

“O--oh, well, that was… um, that was really nice of you, Blue. I…”

You just smiled at her and her apologetic expression, beginning your descent past Piper and down the couple of stairs towards the couch where the two of you could enjoy your breakfast.  

“It’s okay Piper. I’m sorry too.” You said looking back at her as you placed the bag down on the coffee table. And your companion just grinned.

[commonwealthoccurences]

The Kids From Yesterday

TW: Injury and it’s symptoms description.

Note: To clarify none of this is supposed to be interpreted as Deacon hitting on Sole. Their friendship is familial in this case and that’s it.

Request:  “ So imagine, the Sole Survivor is secretive about their identity. They never show their face, their voice bounces around their helmet, and Deacon's 90 percent sure they use heeled boots. But they're a good leader and a good person, so everyone lets it be. One day, Sole is out with a Companion and they hit their head. Companion has no choice but to take off the helmet to check for wounds, since Sole's knocked out. And they learn why they never show their face. They're a teenager.”

It was a hot day in the middle of summer. Sole and Deacon were trekking across the Commonwealth to Diamond City, hoping to get a decent room for the night before they left to check out a nearby safehouse. Sweat beaded across Sole’s forehead, the intense heat made worse by the helmet they always wore. “Sheesh, Boss. I’m committed to privacy, too, but are you sure you don’t wanna take that off? I’ll look the other way, promise.” He held up his pinky to imply his innocent intentions.

Sole rolled their eyes despite Deacon not being able to see. “Yeah, sure. For about two seconds before you use those sunglasses to your advantage. I know your tricks by now Deacon.”

He grinned, unashamed. “Busted.”

They continued their hike in silence. Deacon had known Sole for more than a year and a half, and not once had they even given a hint about their identity. Sure, they came from a vault and they were trying to find a family member, but that’s all Deacon knew about them. They had managed to hook up a voice modifier to their helmet, which changed pitch every day. Their armor was bulky and hid any defining features. They were decently tall, but even then, in the beginning they walked unsteadily which led Deacon to believe their boots had built in heels. Conversations were kept anecdotal and light, and if they told stories, no one involved in them had seen Sole’s face either.

This ate at Deacon. He respected their privacy as much as they respected his. Neither tried to pry too much, but he couldn’t help but be curious. His entire job was to figure out mysteries and despite the fact that he made sure not to go too far, he really wanted to know even a little bit about who they were. 

However, he didn’t need to know any more about them to respect them. They were a hard worker and a fantastic leader, and didn’t hesitate to put their life on the line for the Railroad and the Minutemen and the synths under their protection. Deacon was no stranger to keeping his distance; as long as they continued to do what they did, they were good in his books.

Sole’s commitment to their secrecy could be to a fault, though. They never let anyone help treat their wounds; Deacon had to listen to them sew up their own injuries from the other side of a curtain multiple times and each was a struggle for him to stay in his seat. Yet every time they patched themself up, put their armor back on, and stepped out from behind the curtain with a silent nod.

And now, they were refusing to put their well being first and take their helmet off for even a small breath of fresh air. Of course Deacon was mostly joking when he implied he’d take a peek at their appearance, and he could understand their caution, but still, it was putting their safety at risk.

They had made it about halfway there when Sole began stumbling. The sun had reached its fullest height and its rays were beating down onto the Commonwealth. Plants had shriveled up across the fields, ponds had been turned to mere puddles, and the light reflected harshly off the rocks, rivers, and the scraps of metal that decorated the sides of the roads.

Sole’s line of vision tilted as they struggled to re-orientate themself. Deacon moved to grab their arm, but he didn’t move fast enough due to his own exhaustion, and Sole went tumbling, their helmeted head slamming into a fractured guard rail. He swore loudly when they didn’t move to get up.

“Sole? Hey, you need to wake up.” He leaned over them in an attempt to block out the sun and shook their shoulders. No response.

Fear struck him when he realized just how limp their frame was. It was pure dead weight. “Hey! Sole, can you hear me?” He shook them again.

He had a decision to make. They had hit their head hard and that was never good. Either he respected their privacy to the fault they were so infamous for and left their helmet on, hoping for the best, or he kept them alive and let them yell at him later. He barely hesitated. Sole had saved his life multiple times, he couldn’t stand by for the sake of their anonymity.

“I’m sorry in advance, Sole.” He muttered, crouching next to them and reaching for their helmet.

Sole awoke in an unfamiliar room. An oil lamp flickered on the nightstand next to the cot they were reclined on, casting dancing shadows across the room. There was a table of medical supplies to their right along with a water pitcher and an empty, clean cup. Carefully, they began to sit up. The room spun as they inhaled sharply and squeezed their eyes shut in an attempt to make the nauseating feeling go away.

When they reopened their eyes to a right-side-up room, they reached for a knife that had been left on the tray next to a bandana. They gripped it tightly in their hand, knuckles white as they began to swing their legs over the side of the mattress. Their body felt extra heavy, like weights had been attached to their joints.

With a sharp breath they forced themself to get to their feet, leant against the railing attached to the cot. The room seemed to be a doctor’s office more than anything, but they had been stripped of their padded armor and helmet; someone had explaining to do. When they were finally steadily on their feet they picked up the bandana and tied it around the lower half of their face, securing the knot at the back of their head. “Taking off so soon?” A voice startled them from the doorway and they tightened their grip on the knife.

Their eyes snapped up, causing another wave of nauseating dizziness. Deacon- well, three of him, actually -stood in the doorway. The figures blended together before separating again, clueing Sole in on just how bad their dizziness was. As carefully as they could, they lowered themself back onto the cot. “That’s what I thought.” He sighed.

The whole ‘disappointed parent’ vibe was starting to piss Sole off, and it was exactly the reason they never gave clues about their identity. “Save the lecture, Deacon. Where are we?” They asked, attempting to regulate their tone.

“Diamond City clinic. We’re still having this conversation, though.”

“Later, when we’re somewhere secure. I’m not having less-than-fortunate discussions within earshot of nosy people. Or worse. The Institute.”

Deacon fought the urge to make a face. Sure, they were right. What he knew now didn’t change that they knew what they were doing and how to keep themself safe. It did, however, make him struggle with the idea of standing by while they continued their path of work. As they fought to stand again, he knew he couldn’t stop them, regardless. “Will you let me help you?” Deacon asked quietly, dragging a hand over his face.

“Yeah, knock yourself out.” 

He crossed the room and gripped their forearm so they could brace themself to stand. “Slowly.” He warned, reaching around to grab their other arm as they swayed.

“Don’t start babying me now, Deacon.”

“I’m not. This is what caring about someone looks like.” His tone was biting.

Sole suppressed a roll of their eyes and continued to make their way towards where their armor was laying. “What time is it?”

“Ten-ish at night. We’re safe to get to Dugout Inn without you overheating again. I already booked a room and the brothers agreed to make sure the place was cleared out and everyone was in their rooms before we got there. The doc never saw your face, by the way, I kept the bandana over it.”

“Thank you.”

Carefully, Sole began putting their armor on. They started to lean forward to put their shin guards on and Deacon stopped them, kneeling to adjust the straps for them. Piece by piece he strapped them into their armor before reaching for the pitcher of water. “You need to drink something before we leave. He administered fluids but we shouldn’t risk it.” He handed them a glass of water and waited for them to finish it off.

Slowly and carefully, they made their way from the Surgery Center clinic through the alleys to the Dugout Inn. Their face was still covered, and Sole thanked God for that, but they still turned away as soon as the brothers looked over from where they were talking quietly behind the bar. “Do you guys need some help?” Vadim asked.

Deacon shook his head. “Nah, we’re all good. Thanks, though.”

Sole’s feet shuffled against the ground as he led them to the nearest room, which he had the foresight to request. With practiced ease Deacon shifted their arm over his shoulder and gripped their waist, twisting the doorknob to the room open and swinging it open. He moved them in and transferred their weight onto the nearby bed. “Alright, let’s talk.” They sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I wanted to be taken seriously. If I had said anything, no one would’ve respected me enough to let me lead. Hell, I doubt they would’ve even let me out of Sanctuary.”

Deacon began to pace slowly. “How old are you? Minus the whole popsicle situation.”

“Seventeen. Since April.”

Deacon swore, his hands on his hips as he stared at the dusty floor. Silence filled the room and Sole didn’t bother breaking it; Deacon would talk when he wanted to and it was pointless to push. After a pause, he dropped down onto the nearby couch and put his head in his hands. He swore again under his breath. “I’m sorry.” He said finally.

“Come again?”

“I’m sorry. I mean- kids have to go through a lot here already, you know. But you’ve had to do things adults from this generation couldn’t even fathom and you weren’t born into this world, I- I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry”

When Deacon looked up at them, his sunglasses had slipped down the bridge of his nose. Sole watched carefully as he reached up to remove them, instinctively getting the urge to avert their eyes. He folded the arms together and set his sunglasses on the coffee table in front of him, his eyes clouded with emotion. “I just want you to know I’ve got your back, Boss. We’ll come out on the other side of this and you can get old with Dogmeat in Sanctuary, y’know. But you have to stop pushing yourself so hard.”

Sole, not seeing the point of hiding anymore, tugged their helmet off and settled it in their lap, running their fingertips over it as they examined it carefully. “I don’t mean it relative to your age, either. You push yourself way too hard to please everyone in this area and it’s gonna get you killed. You’ve already proved yourself. You’re already good enough. It’s time that you see that, too, and maybe take some time to just- are you gonna shoot me with my own pistol if I said ‘to just be a kid?’”

Sole tipped their head back and laughed. “No. I guess it’s fair.”

“Thank God. Hey, you need to put another cap in the ‘Near Death Experience’ jar when we get back home.”

Sole snorted. “I think we’re single handedly filling that damn thing.”

Deacon couldn’t disagree. He got up briefly to lock the door, not wanting any late-night ambushes, and settled back onto the couch. It was customary for him to take the first watch while Sole got a nap in, and considering their condition, that wasn’t going to change. “Get some rest, Boss. We’ve got an early morning.” He leaned over to the nearby lamp and paused, waiting for Sole to settle down under the blankets, the bandana still tied over the lower half of their face.

“Goodnight, Deacon.”

“G’night, kid.”

“Don’t push it.”

Deacon laughed quietly and blew out the lamp.