#with patterns around them transitioning into the next hand position

[digitaldiseas3]

hyperfixation so powerful it’s actually inspiring me to get back into drawing for the first time in like. four years.

[calmcoldevening]

Pov: You knew slashers, when you was a child (Slashers x fem!reader)

I'm back! Well, it os a lazy post from my drafts, until I end my new idea <3

TW: no

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

P.S.: English is not my native language, so lot of these words was translated by simple translator, sorry for misspells and e.t.c.

Enjoy this!

Thomas Hewitt

The transition to a new school has always been a great stress for a child, especially in the middle of the school year.

You and your parents often moved from city to city. Maybe it was their work, or maybe they just wanted to show you as many different places as possible so that your childhood would remain really memorable — you didn't know. But the constant moving was followed by a change of schools and kindergartens. On the one hand, you liked it — new acquaintances, interests and a lot of positive emotions, after all, you were a cheerful and active child — but it also brought its inconveniences — you didn't have "best" friends, you had no more than a couple of months to communicate with each of them, and multiple the change of the team has made you a real chameleon in society.

You were ten years old when you and your parents moved to Texas. The age when most classes have already been divided into peculiar interest groups, which are quite difficult for a new person to join. That's why your mom decided to bake cookies that you could distribute to new classmates. Who doesn't like homemade cakes? You actively participated in the cooking process. A little more practice, and you could learn these cookies on your own. As soon as the treat was ready — several pieces were successfully taken away by your father — your mother beautifully put it in a colored box, now tied with a ribbon. The inscription "Welcome" was painted on the lid in gold paint.

It was very hot in this area of Texas. Therefore, on your first day of school, you decided to limit yourself to a beautiful white T-shirt with some simple pattern and black shorts. The first impression is the most important, right? Your mom took you to school by car. At the reception desk, your mom introduced you and found out the number of the right office. After kissing you goodbye on the cheek, she left you to your own luck. Although you were already used to it, a nervous feeling of anticipation bubbled somewhere in your chest; your palms were sweating.

After a good seven minutes, you were standing in front of the right class, 212, clutching a box of cookies to your chest. Adjusting the strap of the gray backpack, you exhaled anyway.

Your homeroom teacher, Mrs. Sullivan, introduced you in the office. A lovely woman with curly locks hanging down on both sides of her face and freckled cheeks. Her soft figure, dressed in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt, caused a surge of strength and confidence in you. The woman lightly put her arm around your shoulders, so motherly, and asked you to tell about yourself.

"My name is Y/N Y/L," your voice trembled slightly while your gaze ran over the children sitting in the classroom, "I'm ten. I like animals and beading... Mm, my parents and I move around a lot, so I don't think I'll stay here for more than two months. I hope we'll become friends."

You ended your performance with a sincere warm smile. Mrs. Sullivan asked you to take an empty seat. Your choice fell on the farthest place by the window; a guy was sitting behind it, hunched over and staring at the street. Was he weird? No, rather unusual. He had long black hair, so unusual for a boy; his gaze was lowered somewhere on the dusty road near the school, so you couldn't see his eyes. Sitting down next to him, you quickly took out a notebook and pencil from your backpack.

"Hello?"

The boy seemed startled by your voice. He looked at you uncertainly, and you saw a face wrapped in bandages. Sad cornflower blue eyes peeked out from under the white cloth.

"I'm Y/N," you whisper, holding out your hand to the boy, "And what's your name?"

There was no response. Disappointed, you lowered your hand, now paying attention to the teacher's explanation. The woman was writing down her words on the blackboard, and you quickly began copying them into your notebook, clutching a pencil until it crackled.

There was something about this boy that attracted you. It doesn't matter if it was his shyness or isolation — you decided that you definitely want to make friends with him.

At recess, you approached a group of girls. They were dressed up like girls from fashion magazines that you often saw in kiosks by the road.

"Hi," — you said with a light smile.

"Well, hello," said one of the girls, popping a bubble of gum.

"I want to ask. M, that boy," you pointed to the long—haired boy, "What's his name? I asked, and he ignored me."

"Haha, he won't answer you. That's our little Tommy," another girl hissed sarcastically, giggling, "Thomas Hewitt is weird. Very strange. I heard that his father is his brother!"

"And he's also a terrible freak!"

You awkwardly put your hand in your hair. Thomas didn't look as disgusting as the girls described him. It's all rumors. And what to take from these children, they probably didn't even try to talk to Hewitt!

You didn't talk to this company anymore. After waiting for lunch, when all the children went out to the garden at the school, you again approached the boy. He didn't budge. It seems he hasn't even written anything since you sat down next to him.

"Hey, hello?" you waved your palm in front of the guy's face, "Thomas, right?"

This time the boy paid attention to you. There was no emotion visible under the thick layer of bandages, but you were sure that he arched an eyebrow questioningly. He's wondering how you know his name?

"You were sitting alone, so I came over. Your name is Thomas, right?" you repeated the question, finally the boy nodded, "That's wonderful! I'm Y/N, let's get acquainted."

Smiling happily, you hand the guy an open box of cookies. Golden crust with chocolate chips. You had no desire to share such a delicious thing with such terrible and tactless people. And Tommy. Tommy was different. He was timid and calm, unable to cause harm.

"Help yourself," you babble, sitting down next to Hewitt, "I made them myself! Not without my mommy's help, of course..."

You blush slightly and see Thomas's eyes narrow. He smiled! He seems to be starting to like your company.

"Can I call you Tommy?"

• Thomas has become noticeably happier since you met him. The boy began to spend more time outside the house, in your company (Luda was very surprised by this, because usually after school Tommy always came home and sat in his room).

• For your birthday, Thomas himself sewed a soft toy for you, a fox, as he found out later, this is one of your favorite animals. The toy was sewn from different, but matching pieces of fabric, a little sloppy, but quite skillfully. It made you smile. You threw your arms around Hewitt for joy.

• Once you praise him, Tommy immediately blushes a lot. It's good that it's not visible under the layer of bandages. From the moment you became friends, Thomas's self-esteem has risen a little.

• When you first offered to help Thomas change the bandages, he strongly refused. The boy just couldn't let you see his face. But when he finally gave up, Hewitt was pleasantly surprised that you didn't scream and run away. You didn't call Tommy a freak or a monster, but only sympathetically stroked his scarred cheeks.

• Over time, you began to understand Thomas without words, absolutely. You found the right answers in his movements, grunting, awkward head turning or excessive gesticulation. Even Luda was a little amazed at your nonverbal communication, but the woman was glad that her son finally found a real friend.

• Tommy often showed you his drawings. It was like the scribble of a five-year-old child, but you were always happy to accept the leaves and hang them over your bed. Basically, Thomas drew his family: angry Charlie in the corner of the paper, Monty sitting next to him in a chair, a little further away, Luda was cooking, and in the center of the drawing you and Thomas holding hands and smiling.

• It was the first time you begged your parents to stay in this city longer. Fortunately, they agreed after seeing your enthusiasm for the "strange boy".

Brahms Heelshire

• Your parents and the Healers kept in touch for a while, you can say your families were very close. You first met Brahms on his fifth birthday. He was a very well-mannered but private boy, so Mrs. Heelshire was only too happy to introduce you.

• At first, your communication did not work out. Brahms was a rude child in places, took away your toys and teased you.

• His true attitude towards you showed up when you didn't come to his house, although you were visiting the Heelshire family every Monday and Wednesday. He was seriously worried. All morning Brahms sat in his room by the window and looked at the road going through the forest, waiting for your little body in your favorite blue dress to appear from behind the trees. But you were never there. It turned out that you were just sick. That day Brahms went to your house and did not leave your bed, squeezing your hot palm.

• Your parents worked most of the time, so they were not against your games with Heelshire Jr. You stayed in their house more and more often, sometimes even overnight, and you and Brahms made noise all night, forcing his mother to swear. But still, the woman was glad that at least Brahms was behaving quite comfortably and boldly with someone.

• You were only a couple of months younger than Brahms, but you thought it was a good reason to tease you.

• The boy allowed you to enter his room without knocking, consider it a worthwhile privilege, because Heelshire does not let everyone into his personal space.

• When you were sad, Brahms brought you bouquets of flowers hastily made with his own hands. That's why his palms were green most of the time.

• Brahms makes wonderful sandwiches. He often makes them when the two of you are having a "picnic" in the garden. Although in fact he agrees to it only to admire you.

• Heelshire loves sweets very much. Very. His mom doesn't allow the boy a lot of sweets and cakes, so you secretly bring them to him from home. The boy is insanely happy.

• Brahms loves kissing. This habit, or rather the need, appeared in him because you praised the boy in this way. Has he finally cleaned the room? A kiss. Did he break his mom's precious vase during the catch-up today? A kiss! So now he can demand them for any reason. He especially likes it when you kiss him before going to bed, and Brahms falls asleep hugging you.

• You're his best friend. That's why Brahms trusts you with all his secrets. You are the only one to whom he has told about the strange and frightening thoughts that sometimes sound in his head.

"Good night," Mrs. Heelshire said, turning off the light and closing the door behind her.

You smile and blow her a kiss, covering your mouth with your palm. When the woman's footsteps recede, you exhale with relief, plopping down on the pillow with force. Squinting your eyes, you wrinkle your nose, trying to blow away the stuck strands of hair from your face. Brahms giggles and gently tucks your hair behind your ear.

The room is cool. The window is slightly ajar, letting in a light autumn wind. The curtains are swaying from side to side, taking chaotic frightening shadows.

You get under the covers up to your nose. Brahms follows your example, pressing his whole body against you, and you stroke his head.

"If I ever do something very, very bad, will you stay with me?" Heelshire whispers, looking up at you.

You look into his sad emerald eyes and laugh. He likes to put pressure on your pity, because he knows that at such moments you see him as a tiny abandoned kitten.

"I don't think you'd do anything so bad, Brahms."

"But if I do. What if everyone turns away from me. Even mom and dad. Will you stay with me?"

You pressed your lips together, frowning. Brahms had never asked such strange questions before. And how can a child who is only eight years old think about something like that after a while. Looking down at the ceiling, you turned your head, looking into Brahms' eyes.

"Yes. I'll stay."

"Honestly?" Heelshire asks incredulously.

"Honestly."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise you, silly boy!" you abruptly cover his face with a blanket, holding the edges on both sides of his head.

The boy was kicking, trying to get out from under your weight, while you tried not to laugh. Taking pity on his futile attempts, you took off the blankets, admiring Brahms' flushed face. Heelshire was breathing heavily, and his cheeks and nose were burning like Chinese lanterns that your parents launched on your birthday.

"I won. Again," you grin.

Brahms is silent. You sigh and lie down again, turning your back to Heelshire. Your eyes are shining with joy, and your lips continue to curve in a smug grin. You know that Brahms will not dare to do something to you in return. He always let you get away with such antics. Absolutely always.

When you are ready to fall asleep, through the chatter in your head you hear a plaintive whisper. Having opened your leaden eyelids, you groan with displeasure.

"Kiss me," Brahms whines, and you get up on your elbows, chuckling softly.

"Okay," you kiss Heelshire on the lips, "Good night, Brahms."

• "Now I've won," Brahms croaks, pressing you against the wall and spreading his hands on both sides of your head. Just like a child. Except now he's not the victim here, but you. Although was he ever a victim in your games? Rather, he always played the role of a presenter, you just didn't notice it, as if you were looking through your fingers. And who would have thought that that innocent little boy would ever stand in front of you, towering over your body by a good two heads, and grinning with eyes shining in anticipation through the black slits of the mask.

Sinclairs

Christmas is the most mysterious and magical holiday of the year; the day when the whole family gathers at one big table to properly celebrate this moment together; the day when you receive a lot of gifts from all kinds of relatives, which you sometimes did not realize; the day when all wishes come true.

You clumsily shuffled along the road, shaking your back every now and then to adjust the heavy backpack. Things inside rattled a lot, and you tried to straighten your back faster to avoid crumpled packages.

Christmas was your favorite holiday. And although your parents have been working constantly lately, you were glad that you could spend this family holiday with your friends.

You met not so long ago, only about four months ago, when you first moved here. Ambrose turned out to be a very nice and cozy city with friendly and caring people. Mrs. Sinclair, Trudy, and your mom became friends right away— their interests converged on art. That's when I met her sons, the woman suggested that you make friends with them because of their similar age. And it turned out to be a very good idea. The boys quickly became addicted to you.

Once again adjusting the canvas straps of the backpack, you quickly climb the steps requested by the snow and knock on the sand-colored door several times. On the other side, there is a fussy shuffling and dissatisfied grumbling.

"Hello," you say, smiling, when the door swings open in front of you, revealing a view of the timid Vincent.

The guy nods to you and opens the door wider, motioning you to enter. You kiss Sinclair on the cheek of the mask. Brushing off your feet at the threshold, you quickly take off your shoes and leave your backpack at the shoe shelf. Music from an old radio is coming from the kitchen, some station unknown to you is playing old songs from the seventies. As soon as you entered the room, Vincent stood at the stove again, frying something in a frying pan. Whenever Trudy was busy making figures and arranging a museum that she someday wanted to open, it was Vincent who did the cooking and other household duties. Bo was stubborn and didn't want to do "women's" work, and Lester was still too young for such a large-scale activity. The latter was now sitting at the table and skillfully sliced an apple with a hunting knife into neat pieces.

"Morning, Lester," passing by the boy, you leave a small kiss on his forehead.

"Hi, Y/N!" Sinclair winces contentedly, flapping his big copper eyes.

You sit down next to the boy and imperceptibly take a piece of apple from under his nose, throwing it into his mouth contentedly. There were already several plates and cutlery on the table. Vincent loved order, so he prepared everything in advance.

"Where's Bo?" you ask, rocking slightly in your chair, for which you get a menacing look from Vincent.

"Mom asked him to help at the museum," Lester replied, "He should be back soon."

You notice how Vincent turns off the stove and turns his whole body in your direction. The guy takes a notebook lying on the table and quickly scribbles something.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes," you say shortly, when Vincent closes the notebook and puts it back, "Honestly."

Sinclair puts the hot omelette on plates and pushes you a bowl of oatmeal cookies. You happily take one piece. Vincent sits down across from Lester and lifts the mask just enough to see his mouth. You frown, noticing the edge of his deep scar.

"Hey everyone," it was heard from the threshold, when the front door slammed shut with force, "Oh, honey, and you're here," Bo walks past you, lightly touching your shoulder in greeting, and sits down next to Vincent.

During brunch, you watch Lester and Bo actively negotiate. When their plates are empty, you decide to step in.

"Since everyone is here," you babble happily, clapping your hands to attract the attention of the guys, "I want to give you gifts a little earlier than planned, do you mind?"

"Of course not," Bo abruptly pushed away from the table, "I'm all for it, babe."

Bo winked at you playfully, to which you rolled your eyes. Vincent signed something, and you looked at Lester. Your sign language was not yet good enough to understand most of the phrases, you barely remembered the words of politeness. That's why you've always relied on little Lester at times like this.

"He said: "Why are you doing this so early?"", Lester explained, innocently blinking his eyes.

"What's the difference," Bo frowned, "Sooner or later — the main thing is that she gave."

You didn't comment on the elder Sinclair's words, but just got up from the table and went to your backpack resting in the hallway. When you came back, the brothers were already sitting in a kind of semicircle on the floor. Bo sprawled impressively closer to the sofa and grinned in anticipation; Lester, in his usual manner, sat cross-legged; while Vincent tucked his knees to his chest.

You sat down between the twins and put the backpack next to you, unzipping it. You said "Close your eyes" and, as soon as the boys fulfilled your request, you began to take out colorful boxes. All packages had the same color, different sizes. Alternately, you put the gifts in front of them and allowed them to watch. Lester giggled when he saw that his box was the biggest.

"Merry Christmas," you drawled, spreading your arms out to the sides.

The very first gift was opened by Lester. The boy happily tore open the package, scattering the paper around him, and screamed when he saw the cherished surprise. A big stuffed fawn. He had a soft beige body and neat brown horns sticking out in different directions. The muzzle was cheerful, with a big nose and shiny button eyes.

"I knitted it especially for you," you babble, smiling, when Lester looks up at you with an enthusiastic look.

"Thank you!" the boy throws himself on your neck with lightning speed, squeezing your body until the bones crunch; you stroke his back.

Bo was a little surprised when he saw a set of tools under the wrapper. He loved tinkering and was well versed in mechanics; the fact that you remembered about this hobby touched the guy a little; his lips curved in a slight smile.

"Well, thanks, babe," Bo grins, patting your hair.

You're pouting a little. All the time spent in the morning combing this tangled nest has gone to waste. You are dissatisfied with blowing off a few strands that caught your eye.

The last person to open his gift was Vincent. The boy very tenderly unwrapped the package, not trying to tear it, as if stretching and savoring this moment. You watched the deft but careful movements of his fingers with burning impatience. Finally, Sinclair took off all the paper, removing it from the side, and looked down at what he saw. A large set with colored pencils. Exactly the one that the boy looked at with undisguised envy in the window of an art store about a month ago. Did you remember that? With slightly trembling hands, Vincent takes the box and turns it in his hands. There were several more drawing pads under it.

Vincent looks at you, and you see the trembling gaze of his azure eyes in the slits of the mask. Such unbelievers, but at the same time grateful. You crawl up to the boy and hug him tightly, nuzzling his neck. Vincent lets out a ragged sigh.

"Merry Christmas to you, boys," you congratulate them once again, seeing the boys' satisfied smiles.

"So why did you decide to give it to us so early?" Lester asked, clutching the toy to his chest.

"Oh, that," you awkwardly fix your hair, "Well, my parents decided to leave. To another state. We'll leave tonight. So I thought I could have some fun with you now."

There was an oppressive silence in the room. You were afraid to look up, but you could feel the disappointment on the boys' faces. Your heart was painfully squeezed in your chest, from which you gritted your teeth with a creak.

"Will you come back?" Bo broke the silence.

"I don't know. Dad was offered a job in another state. Mom just said I wouldn't be able to see you."

You looked at each of the boys in turn. Vincent's head drooped, Bo's brows furrowed, and Lester's lips tightened into a crooked thread. The elder Sinclair sighed heavily.

"We'll be waiting. All together," he looked at you from under his brows, "Just try not to come back to us."

• Vincent loves sweets; but, often, Bo takes most of the goodies. That's why you put an envelope with several edible bracelets in one of the donated notebooks. Bo will probably consider them girly and will not take them away from his brother.

• You have been knitting a fawn for Lester for about five days; the boy is very happy with your gift. Your relationship is like a brother and a scary sister. He is always ready to rely on you; Sinclair is glad that he has such a caring person, unlike the same brothers (in particular Bo).

• Trudy adores you. You could say that in these few months she began to perceive you as her own daughter. You even know where the spare keys to the back door of the house are.

• Bo always tries to impress you as a self-sufficient high school student. He saw his father's old magazines with tackles, seduction and other materials not for children, so he decided to train on you. He didn't notice how he fell in love.

• Vincent is a good cook.

• Most of Vinnie's drawings in the new notebooks are you. He will paint your portraits for many years after your leaving.

[void-botanist]

Writing patterns tag

Premise: List the first lines of your last 20 or so stories. See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line.

@vacantgodling tagged me for this and I'm going to follow his lead and do some chapter opening lines along with scene/story opening lines, based on what I've been working on so far this year.

Nicea chapter 1: Declan stifled a yawn as TRANSMISSION IN PROGRESS appeared as a banner on his console screen.

Nicea chapter 2: Spinder pushed past the glass doors of the transit hub into the chill air of one-in-the-morning Salles City.

Nicea chapter 3: Isabel cracked her eyes open.

Nicea chapter 4: (technically not the first line but I haven't written the actual first line yet) He flipped through old requisition forms, positioning his view so that he could see the whole header and the whole message at once to filter down to the right date.

Nicea chapter 5: When Spinder surfaced from his dreams the light coming through the crack between the curtains was searing.

Nicea chapter 6: Tristan glanced between Rodney and the obscenely thick stack of papers in front of him.

Fallen chapter 1: The sun-warmth of Heaven siphoned itself off his back as he stepped into the Neutral Zone.

Fallen chapter 2: When he woke up, every bit of him was still tinged with ache, but he felt strong enough to continue on to the next shrine.

Derelict Corridors chapter 1: Please confirm your intentions upon receipt.

Derelict Corridors chapter 2: Earl’s eyes drifted open to a feeling of red.

Angst prompt scene from CM: Colin stopped pacing to press the sides of his hands to his forehead like he was too angry to even look at Sid.

Pre-AOM Sorian meets Leon: Sorian rapped two knuckles against the doorframe and Professor Standing looked up from his work.

Pre-AOM after Sorian meets Leon: Leon waited until that Shank character must be long gone—and it really was waiting, because as soon as he turned back to his expense report, he knew he wouldn’t be finishing it today.

OCKiss day 1, Naneb: The branch Donovan had just snipped from the courtyard’s kaesuri tree dropped to the ground right as he heard someone start crying.

OCKiss day 2, After Sunset: "Daddy?"

OCKiss day 3, Icky: As Anni patted the blanket in around Dez’s contours, she realized this was just like tucking in Bran when they were kids, except Bran would chat with her the whole time.

OCKiss day 4, Void: It was one of those darkness periods where Martina did more staring out the hallway windows than sleeping.

OCKiss day 5, Conservative: Thade was almost finished with the news and his sandwich in the dining room when he felt a presence slide up to the end of his booth table.

OCKiss day 6, Alive: In the hallway, Anchesh pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

OCKiss day 7, Victory: The Nebulae and the Geese were tied, a flurry of black-and-purple and white-and-yellow on the asphalt as the third period clock ticked down to the last seconds.

I'm honestly not surprised that a lot of these start with people waking up. In Nicea, the crew gets back late from a shipping job because having them return to their planet right at the beginning of the story lets me present a whole lot of worldbuilding on the page without it feeling stuffed in, plus it's fun to see how differently they each handle the post-run sleep of the dead. In Fallen and Derelict Corridors the waking up part underscores how Jerry and Earl are now in wildly different situations and it's kinda disorienting. But what I really think is interesting is that only one of these starts with dialogue. I really do like to set the scene first, or start with something introspective.

Favorite opening line: When Spinder surfaced from his dreams the light coming through the crack between the curtains was searing.

This one's probably the strongest on its own rather than as a stepping stone into the rest of the story. And this is exactly my experience of sleeping in hotels lol.

I'll tag @sunset-a-story, @multi-lefaiye, @omniblades-and-stars, and whoever wants to join in!

[annofthearchives]

buffalo springfield’s “i am a child” through the eyes of romantic power imbalances

Buffalo Springfield was a band founded in 1966 by (most notably) Neil Young and Stephen Stills, among several others. most known for their hit song "for what it's worth," the band messes around in folk, country, psych. rock, and sometimes even jazz. their record last time around released in july of 1968 is essentially a compilation of previous records, as most members of the band had moved onto other projects at the time. the song "i am a child" is a Neil Young tune, one he continued to perform for the rest of his career.

the song opens with a classic Neil Young harmonica solo, accompanied by a guitar, bass, and drum. the chord progression is simple, the guitar has a simple strumming pattern, the bass repeats an "oom-pah" V-I bassline, and the drum hits are simple. overall, the song is easy to listen to. it seems to be a finished version to Young's unreleased song "the rent is always due" - a song that details the mental change that comes from transitioning into adulthood. the lyrics describe a child talking to an older male figure - "You hold my hand, rough up my hair / It's lots of fun to have you there," for one example.

however, one cannot ignore the somber, if not morose, delivery of Young's lyrics. in the (possible) demo "the rent is always due," Young's delivery is uplifting, especially towards the end of stanzas. it seems that there's a positivity about adulthood that Young can see. in "i am a child" on the other hand, it's clear that he views the experience of a child as one of power imbalance, maybe pointing to a specific relationship with an elder in his life. Young's relationship with father was uncertain, at best, so this might be a reflection of that relationship. while not meant as the original interpretation, one can also view this song from the perspective of an imbalanced romantic relationship.

regardless of age difference or sex difference, Young's lyrics can apply to the point of view from a less experienced romantic, to a partner possibly taking advantage of them, either mentally, physically, emotionally, etc. the lyric in the opening stanza "You can't conceive of the pleasure in my smile" sums the relationship divide well - one less experienced, more naïve lover compared to an older, more mature, or jaded partner. the next line "You hold my hand, rough up my hair" seems sweet at first but could hold a double entendre - if our interpretation is anyone but a kid, the notion of their hair being 'roughed up' could hold symbolism for some aspect of their lives being roughed up, or messed with. given this interpretation, Young's repetition of the line "It's lots of fun to have you there" at the end of multiple stanzas could also be seen in a sarcastic light.

he goes on to say "You make the rules, you say what's fair," noting that this other person is, to be frank, in charge of the ground that the relationship is built on. for a child/father relationship, this makes sense, although possibly hinting at the frustration that kids might feel to be put under rules they don't quite understand yet. in a romantic interpretation, it's a relatable line for anyone that has gone through an abusive or mentally/emotionally tolling relationship - you may never know what the rules are, and may never feel that the other person is setting fair expectations. later on, Young states "I gave to you, now you give to me," either still awaiting to be given the same care as the person he's talking to, or stating a fact of how the noted relationship works. this works well for our narrative as these types of parasitic relationships rely on one partner giving constantly, always awaiting for their partner to give the same.

lastly, if not the most convincing line for this argument, Young twice repeats "What is the color, when black is burned? / What is the color?" this phrase is said after the simple line "The sky is blue and so is the sea," a statement of fact. in the original meaning of the song, it's something that can be heard as a child just stating fact that they have maybe learned which preambles the question about what color black is once it's burned. in the original interpretation, this line is confusing, as it seems to hint to that morose mood but with no context to what it could mean. in our interpretation, i see it as telling the state of the relationship - what IS the color when black is burned? well, it can't get darker, so it stays stagnant, in the darkest it could be. for a relationship, this could be hitting rock bottom with nowhere to go.

all that being said, i'd also like to end with connecting the lyrics and meaning to an entirely unrelated story - Lolita (1955) by Vladimir Nabokov. Nabokov's 1955 novel tells the tale of a french literature professor, Humbert, who falls in love, kidnaps, and takes advantage of a 12 year old girl, Dolores Haze. actor Brian Cox, who played Humbert in a 2009 production of the movie describes the novel as "Lolita as a memory," insinuating (like others have said) that the book never gives us an insight into Dolores' actual thoughts, rather just Humbert's narrative telling of her personality. Humbert, in this way is more of an unreliable narrator than anything else - Brian Cox describes it best when he states that the novel would be best told in theater as a solo monologue, rather than a play with multiple characters. from this perspective, applying the solo narrative approach that Nabokov gives Humbert, we can approach Young's song from the 'perspective' of Dolores. not her thoughts exactly, rather the thoughts that Humbert's idealized retelling of the tale might give her. a childlike perspective on an imbalanced relationship whose faults might not even be known to the voice in the lyrics. for those who are familiar with the story, you can see how the lyrics fit.

for what its worth, its a nice simple song with an originally simple meaning. trust the musicologist to give a simple song an unnecessarily complex meaning.

*this is not a claim that the lyrics are directly related to anything i've stated, - just all food for thought.*

similar songs (by vibe):

4+20 - crosby, stills & nash

sweet wanomi - bill withers

everydays (live) - buffalo springfield

thorn tree in the garden - derek & the dominos

bluebird - paul mccartney, wings

treetop flyer (demo) - stephen stills

river man - nick drake

similar songs (by theme discussed):

probably just anything by lana del ray

[humunanunga]

another Signalysis continued from my own comments on Youtube

Love, Eternity, Sacrifice. The keys are popularly thought to correspond with Leave, Memory and Promise, but maybe there's more they could tell us about Artifact based on the names and symbols. We've seen them twice before. Clockwise from the top, the plates unlocking the path to the Red Gate go Eternity, Knowledge, Flesh, Love, Balance, Sacrifice. While there isn't a lock for Eternity in the entrance to the surgery room, the order of the symbols is the same, so Knowledge = Air, Flesh = Water, Love = Gold (K for König/King?), Balance = Earth and Sacrifice = Fire. So two of the keys to Artifact could also be interpreted as Fire and Gold.

A few interesting observations I made about the symbols. To start with, Earth had to be printed onto a blank key because the original was embedded in rock (possibly mined ore) and the pattern had to be viewed by x-ray. The symbol next to Earth's lock shows one triangle in another triangle, like the Sierpinski triangle, but Balance only shows the inner (downward-facing) triangle, which coincidentally is the alchemical sign for earth-element. Next, the sign for Water in the medical ward is a half-moon circle, whereas in Nowhere, Flesh's circle is filled in. Fire is also filled in while Sacrifice is only outlined, but otherwise they're the same hexagon at the same orientation.

Eternity, on the other hand... it's represented by a single elongated starburst in Nowhere and on the key, but the door to the surgery room doesn't have a sixth lock where an elemental correspondence with Eternity would go, because the starburst symbol at the same placement is the lowest point of a three-star symbol simply stamped onto the door. It's a recurring symbol that shows up around bioresonance, so the element Eternity would correspond with could be bioresonance.

Now, to cover all bases, let's also include the hexagonal tarot spread. The order of populated heavenly bodies from the sun outward go Buyan, Vineta, Kitezh, Rotfront, Heimat, Leng, but in the spread they go Heimat, Vineta, Rotfront, Leng, Kitezh, Buyan. And clockwise, the used cards go the Star, the Tower, the Moon, Death, the Lovers and the Sun. Hence, Eternity/bioresonance = Star, Knowledge/Air = Tower, Flesh/Water = Moon, Love/Gold = Death, Balance/Earth = Lovers, Sacrifice/Fire = Sun.

Thus, as cards, the keys to Artifact would be the Star, the Sun and Death. The art on the cards in Eternity, Love and Sacrifice's positions confirm that the order is the same– a regular hexagon in the Sun, the elongated starbursts in the Star, and hidden in the center of the rose on Death is the sign for Love– an upward-facing triangle cut into an irregular hexagon. Meaning, in order of key retrieval:

A card that represents ends and transitions (Death) references the key that quotes Ariane's diary entries from cycles 888 and 1024 about her love for Elster.

A card that represents faith and renewal (the Star) references the key that simply remarks upon unsolvable mystery and inescapable grief.

And a card that represents victory and celebration (The Sun) references the key that paraphrases Revelations 8:8-9 and may be Lilith's memories of the war on Vineta.

Thrice in a row, the cards are... strangely oppositional to the keys they correspond with... if we only look at their upright meanings. Because in a tarot reading, the way they're shuffled makes it so cards can be drawn upright or reversed. Death reversed can mean repetition or an inability to move on. The Star reversed can mean hopelessness or crushed faith. The Sun reversed can mean pessimism or unrealistic expectations. Despair, despair, despair.

Tarot was used for fortune-telling, and Artifact seems to convey an endeavor to reverse fate. So maybe those are the key words here. Reverse. Set right. Upright.

The upright meanings of Death, the Star and the Sun match up with what Elster would be after.

...And that's as far as I've gotten. Love is also Gold or Death reversed, Eternity is also bioresonance or the Star reversed, and Sacrifice is also Fire or the Sun reversed.

[thesecretsofthedivine]

The Zodiac (Sun) Signs Pt. 3

Gemini/Gemini Sun

positive manifestations (evolved Gemini): versatile, intellectual, playful, studious, and inspired.

negative manifestations (unevolved Gemini): inconsistent, anxiety-prone, superficial, tunnel vision, and detached.

With the twins symbolizing this zodiac sign, it’s a known fact that Geminis possess uncanny duality or kaleidoscopic tendencies. Being ruled by Mercury, their main concerns are to become a student of life, acquire mental stimulation, maintain endless freedom or opportunities, obtain enriching social connections, and embrace eccentricity. They are expressive, flexible, youthful, charming, and witty. This sun sign is usually in a constant state of flux and can be hard to pin down at times due to its airy and mutable nature. Geminis are the social butterflies or chameleons of the zodiac. The souls of people with this placement are often pure or child-like, always absorbing and observing the energies around them. Their personality is lighthearted, friendly, and extroverted in nature (depending on other placements or aspects within their chart). Geminis strongly identify with their thirst for knowledge or finding the next best thing to fixate on, which can cause them to intellectualize their emotions or avoid structure at times. During this incarnation, their soul’s purpose typically revolves around keeping an open-mind while exploring as much of the Universe as possible. Over time, this zodiac sign’s life path may change or lead to unexpected side quests. Their life force is fed through keeping the mystery of life alive, which can be achieved by their multifaceted identity or spending time studying the philosophies of life’s greatest questions. They are a collector of data with social or studious motivations. People with Gemini energy in their chart are easily able to notice patterns in life and make sense of them. A Gemini’s physical body is often slender or tall and their energy levels are uncontainable. As a result, this sign can be prone to hyper fixations or have a total lack of an attention span. With so much energy and insight to give, this zodiac placement would perform well in roles such as teachers, writers, scientists, tech support, social media influencers, and more. Because Gemini rules the shoulders/arms/hands/nervous system, these individuals can be natural tinkers or most vulnerable to related tension in these areas. This sign has a rather neutral or androgynous take on masculinity. Their relationship with their father figure can land anywhere on the spectrum from bubbly and easygoing to detached and absent. Simultaneously, Geminis may gain higher knowledge, artistic talents, and insatiable curiosity from the masculine/authoritative figures in their life.

Sun in Gemini Transit

When the Sun enters Gemini, your inner child is brought to the surface to remind you about the importance of play. Gemini season is often characterized by the expansion of knowledge, technological advancements, meeting people from all walks of life, finding humor in any situation, and creative/mental stimulation. Gemini season teaches us to disconnect from excessive worry or restrictions by going with the flow and trying new things. Of course, this transit can affect every person’s birth chart in different ways and will be most relevant to any Gemini placements/Gemini-ruled house(s) in a chart. But the general consensus is that Gemini season can influence you to broaden your horizons by properly absorbing inspiration from your environment. When the Sun is in Gemini, the collective energy is slightly scattered and excitable due to being driven by a need for intellect. People may often find themselves reinventing their identity, relying on analytical/communication/social skills for success, starting a research project or new hobbies, meeting like-minded individuals, and being fascinated by current trends. During this time, a caterpillar to butterfly evolution takes place within our minds and encourages us to see the beauty in change. However, it’s important to be wary of any superficialness, anxiousness, overstimulation, flightiness, or bias in your behavior. The themes of Gemini season heavily involve cleansing the mind to see things from a new perspective and bring fun back into your routine.

[absolute-rotary-encoders]

Enhancing Robotic Motion with an Absolute Position Encoder

Okay, so let’s talk about robots. You know, the cool ones that assemble cars, perform surgeries, or zoom around warehouses picking up orders like futuristic butlers? Yeah, those. They all have one thing in common: precision. And that’s where the absolute position encoder comes into play.

If robots are the superstars of automation, absolute position encoders are the behind-the-scenes tech making sure every move is flawless. So, if you’ve ever wondered how robots glide so smoothly (and don’t just crash into walls), let’s break it down.

So, What’s an Absolute Position Encoder Anyway?

Think of It Like a Robot’s GPS (But for Motion)

Unlike incremental encoders that need a reference point, absolute position encoders always know exactly where they are. No resets. No "where was I again?" moments. Just instant, precise position feedback—even after a power outage.

That’s why they’re a staple in industries that can’t afford mistakes. High-tech manufacturing? Check. Aerospace? Absolutely. Surgical robotics? You bet.

How It Actually Works

These encoders use optical, magnetic, or capacitive sensing to detect position. Optical ones use light patterns, magnetic ones read field changes, and capacitive ones measure electrical variations. Sounds fancy, but in simple terms: they provide a unique position value at all times, so robots always know exactly where they are.

Why Robots Are Obsessed with Absolute Position Encoders

Precision Like a Pro

You wouldn’t trust a shaky-handed robot to assemble your smartphone, right? Absolute position encoders make sure movements are on point every single time. Whether it’s a high-speed assembly line or a robotic arm painting a car, these encoders keep everything perfectly aligned.

Power Outage? No Problem

One of the biggest perks? They don’t forget their place. Unlike incremental encoders that freak out after a shutdown, absolute encoders remember their position instantly. That means no downtime, no recalibration, and no stress.

Speed and Efficiency = Happy Robots

Robots running on absolute position encoders move faster, transition smoother, and complete tasks quicker. The result? Higher efficiency, lower costs, and a whole lot of satisfied engineers.

Where Do These Encoders Fit In?

Industrial Robots (AKA the Factory Workhorses)

Think robotic arms assembling cars or welding metal with laser precision. Absolute position encoders make sure these machines move exactly where they need to, every single time.

Cobots (The Friendly Office Buddies of the Robot World)

Collaborative robots—aka cobots—work alongside humans in factories, hospitals, and research labs. They need to be extra safe and precise, which is why absolute encoders help them navigate spaces smoothly and predictably.

Autonomous Vehicles and Drones

Warehouse robots, self-driving forklifts, drones delivering packages—these all require spot-on navigation. Absolute position encoders help them move efficiently without going off track (or crashing into things).

How Do They Compare to Other Encoders?

Incremental Encoders vs. Absolute Encoders

Incremental encoders measure movement but don’t store position. That means if the power goes out, they’re lost. Absolute encoders, on the other hand? They keep their position locked in, making them way more reliable.

Enter the Hollow Shaft Encoder

A hollow shaft encoder is like an absolute position encoder with a twist—it has an open center, so it mounts directly onto shafts without extra parts. Perfect for robots needing compact, lightweight solutions.

Picking the Right Encoder Manufacturer

Why You Need a Good Supplier

Not all encoders are created equal. A high-quality encoder manufacturer ensures durability, precision, and longevity. If you’re working in automation, you want a manufacturer who knows their stuff and can provide custom solutions.

What’s Next in Encoder Tech?

Encoders are getting smarter, smaller, and even more precise. Innovations in high-resolution sensing mean robots will keep getting better at what they do. Advanced absolute rotary encoders are setting new standards in automation, and the future looks ridiculously cool.

Wrapping It Up

So, in summary: Robots are amazing. Precision is everything. Absolute position encoders make sure these machines work flawlessly. Whether it’s industrial robots, cobots, or autonomous vehicles, these encoders keep everything moving smoothly.

And if you’re serious about robotic motion control? Partnering with an experienced encoder company is key. Because when it comes to automation, the smallest details make the biggest difference.

[news365timesindia]

[ad_1] Gautam Gambhir having a chat and close look at the SCG pitch with Rohit Sharma and Jasprit Bumrah (PC: Debasis Sen) Gargi Raut at the SCG The Indian cricket fraternity was abuzz on Wednesday morning with reports of rifts in the dressing room, sparking widespread speculation about unrest within the team. With just a day to go before the final Test of the ongoing Border-Gavaskar Trophy between India and Australia, anticipation ran high over who would address the media. After much waiting, the Indian head coach entered the press conference room, setting the tone with a striking opening statement. “Everything is under control,” said Gautam Gambhir. “Being in Sydney with an opportunity to draw the series is a good position to be in. If our batting and bowling hadn’t done well, we wouldn’t have been 2-1 in the series. It could’ve been worse.”  Gambhir was asked about the youngsters in the team, their dismissals following a similar pattern, and how the management was addressing the issues. “All individuals know what they need to do,” said Gambhir. “I won’t talk about individuals. You win as a team, you lose as a team. The debates between a player and a coach should stay between them. The conversations in the dressing room should stay there.” One of the most interesting aspects of the press conference was the fact that when asked about the playing XI, specifically about Rohit Sharma’s place in the team, Gambhir refused to deny or confirm anything. “We will look at the wicket and then announce the playing XI tomorrow,” he said.  “What about Rohit?” interjected a reporter. “The answer remains the same,” said Gambhir sternly.  With respect to the reports of rifts in the dressing room, Gambhir was also asked about the conversations that he has had with the team. “The only conversation we’re having is about how we need to win the next match,” he said. “There has been no other conversation.” For the Latest Sports News: Click Here Decision on Playing XI Tomorrow: Gautam Gambhir On Whether Rohit Will Play#RohitSharma #GautamGambhir https://t.co/zAEGhFvQuV — RevSportz Global (@RevSportzGlobal) January 2, 2025 He also confirmed that there was one forced change to the playing XI. “Akash Deep is out, he’s got a back issue,” said Gambhir. “That’s the only injury concern.” During the first Test, Jasprit Bumrah emphasised that the Indian team was currently in a “transitional” phase. Gambhir was also questioned about the team’s approach to “phasing out the seniors” in the near future. “Indian cricket will always be in safe hands, till the time you’ve got honest people in the room and honesty is the most important thing for any transition,” he said. “It is not about phasing out the senior players or getting the younger ones in. Ultimately, the only thing that can keep you in the dressing room is performance. “The kind of talent there is in Indian cricket, we will always be in safe hands. There’ll be times when we don’t get results, there’ll be times where we’ll have to be patient. Rather than only criticising the young players, we’ve got to give them time to step up as well. Transition is not just for them, but also for the entire country. “When transitions have happened in the past, it was one department carrying the team forward, but this time around, the transition will happen in both the departments.” Rohit Sharma after his dismissal at the MCG (PC: Debasis Sen) After a series of unusual dismissals in the Melbourne Test reignited the debate over ‘natural game vs responsibility’, Gambhir underscored the players’ commitment to a ‘team-first’ approach. “There is only one tendency and discussion, it’s a ‘team-first’ ideology,” he said. “You need to do what the team needs you to do. People can play their natural game but still, in a team sport, individuals only contribute. “I don’t want to talk about individuals. Everyone needs to do what the team needs them to do. Whether it is about batting out entire sessions or taking on an aggressive approach.”

Heading into the fifth Test match with the series, and World Test Championship final hopes, still alive, Gambhir had full faith in the team’s ability to win the final game. “I’m extremely confident,” he said. “We’ve got the skill set, we’ve got the individuals, we’ve got everything in the dressing room that can win the match. We can go on to do some unbelievable things in the future as well.” As for the controversy in the build-up to the match, Gambhir stated: “Those are just reports, that’s not the truth. I don’t think I need to answer to any reports. Honesty is very important if we want to go on and achieve great things.” Also Read: Shane Watson expresses confidence in Kohli and Rohit ahead of Champions Trophy The post Gautam Gambhir refuses to confirm whether Rohit Sharma will lead in Sydney appeared first on Sports News Portal | Latest Sports Articles | Revsports. [ad_2] Source link

[news365times]

[ad_1] Gautam Gambhir having a chat and close look at the SCG pitch with Rohit Sharma and Jasprit Bumrah (PC: Debasis Sen) Gargi Raut at the SCG The Indian cricket fraternity was abuzz on Wednesday morning with reports of rifts in the dressing room, sparking widespread speculation about unrest within the team. With just a day to go before the final Test of the ongoing Border-Gavaskar Trophy between India and Australia, anticipation ran high over who would address the media. After much waiting, the Indian head coach entered the press conference room, setting the tone with a striking opening statement. “Everything is under control,” said Gautam Gambhir. “Being in Sydney with an opportunity to draw the series is a good position to be in. If our batting and bowling hadn’t done well, we wouldn’t have been 2-1 in the series. It could’ve been worse.”  Gambhir was asked about the youngsters in the team, their dismissals following a similar pattern, and how the management was addressing the issues. “All individuals know what they need to do,” said Gambhir. “I won’t talk about individuals. You win as a team, you lose as a team. The debates between a player and a coach should stay between them. The conversations in the dressing room should stay there.” One of the most interesting aspects of the press conference was the fact that when asked about the playing XI, specifically about Rohit Sharma’s place in the team, Gambhir refused to deny or confirm anything. “We will look at the wicket and then announce the playing XI tomorrow,” he said.  “What about Rohit?” interjected a reporter. “The answer remains the same,” said Gambhir sternly.  With respect to the reports of rifts in the dressing room, Gambhir was also asked about the conversations that he has had with the team. “The only conversation we’re having is about how we need to win the next match,” he said. “There has been no other conversation.” For the Latest Sports News: Click Here Decision on Playing XI Tomorrow: Gautam Gambhir On Whether Rohit Will Play#RohitSharma #GautamGambhir https://t.co/zAEGhFvQuV — RevSportz Global (@RevSportzGlobal) January 2, 2025 He also confirmed that there was one forced change to the playing XI. “Akash Deep is out, he’s got a back issue,” said Gambhir. “That’s the only injury concern.” During the first Test, Jasprit Bumrah emphasised that the Indian team was currently in a “transitional” phase. Gambhir was also questioned about the team’s approach to “phasing out the seniors” in the near future. “Indian cricket will always be in safe hands, till the time you’ve got honest people in the room and honesty is the most important thing for any transition,” he said. “It is not about phasing out the senior players or getting the younger ones in. Ultimately, the only thing that can keep you in the dressing room is performance. “The kind of talent there is in Indian cricket, we will always be in safe hands. There’ll be times when we don’t get results, there’ll be times where we’ll have to be patient. Rather than only criticising the young players, we’ve got to give them time to step up as well. Transition is not just for them, but also for the entire country. “When transitions have happened in the past, it was one department carrying the team forward, but this time around, the transition will happen in both the departments.” Rohit Sharma after his dismissal at the MCG (PC: Debasis Sen) After a series of unusual dismissals in the Melbourne Test reignited the debate over ‘natural game vs responsibility’, Gambhir underscored the players’ commitment to a ‘team-first’ approach. “There is only one tendency and discussion, it’s a ‘team-first’ ideology,” he said. “You need to do what the team needs you to do. People can play their natural game but still, in a team sport, individuals only contribute. “I don’t want to talk about individuals. Everyone needs to do what the team needs them to do. Whether it is about batting out entire sessions or taking on an aggressive approach.”

Heading into the fifth Test match with the series, and World Test Championship final hopes, still alive, Gambhir had full faith in the team’s ability to win the final game. “I’m extremely confident,” he said. “We’ve got the skill set, we’ve got the individuals, we’ve got everything in the dressing room that can win the match. We can go on to do some unbelievable things in the future as well.” As for the controversy in the build-up to the match, Gambhir stated: “Those are just reports, that’s not the truth. I don’t think I need to answer to any reports. Honesty is very important if we want to go on and achieve great things.” Also Read: Shane Watson expresses confidence in Kohli and Rohit ahead of Champions Trophy The post Gautam Gambhir refuses to confirm whether Rohit Sharma will lead in Sydney appeared first on Sports News Portal | Latest Sports Articles | Revsports. [ad_2] Source link

[georgiafitzsimons]

FMP Major Project - Final touches - Final Video

Removing the glitch in 'I believe it' and adjusting timing and adjustment

Time adjustments to the ‘feel like this may be trouble’ just to make certain words feel less rushed in

Changes of ‘my hands about to go blue to match the general text pattern more and with removing the stretching of the word ‘blue’

Changing the second ‘Noo I don’t care ‘ to ‘but I don’t care because of the slight lyric change

Fixing the glitch between the bridge and the start of the freewheeling rap at 03:00

Addition of drop shadow to the freewheeling title to make it clearer

FMP Major Project - Evaluation 2&3 - Semiotical & Primary Metaphor evaluation

As my contexts behind this project largely rely on the theory of semiotics and primary metaphors the next evaluation is going to discuss the final product and the meanings behind my choices. So for the following evaluation I am going to discuss what and why choices were made.

First we'll start at the introduction this use of circles in a bright vibrant pattern are aimed to gain the audiences attention while establishing the colour scheme throughout. This use of circles kept in mind the context of being hypnotised by the artists bicycle while experiencing his emotions. As you'll see further in the video as there are bridges and instrumentals the circles move through zooming to relay and 'hypnotise' the audience to keep them entertained during these breaks while paying appreciation to the inspiration for the song. As already discussed in colour theory research and other posts the colours work together to represent a range of emotions.

As you can see in the next section two things the effect and colour of 'this heat got me peeling, the orange to represent the warming up of the artist in the sun while the effect of text falling off visually insinuates the literal definition of peeling. 'I'm all bubbly' being visually shown through a duplication of the word bubbly with a wave warp on it to suggest the image of multiple bubbles floating in the air. With orange representing sun, warmth, welcoming and possible naivety to his own feelings. As we transition to the 'i believe it' lyrics you can see the green background to show his happiness but perhaps also confusion as he convinces himself he believes in his positive feelings before this brief foreshadowing quickly jumps into the first chorus of stress and negative thoughts. With black and white being suddenly introduced. As he state 'I'm wasting time' you see the time abruptly leaves the screen on the snap within the song. Linking the audience to the primary metaphor that he in fact has ran out of time.

With more obvious semiotical meanings in the type such as the word 'love' being pink because of it's connotations of romance while 'haircuts' is simply cut in two which is self explanatory. With 'noo I don't care' shown through the shutting out of his own negative thoughts through interrupting his train of confusing thought. But through his own manic feelings this is once again fought against returning to negative thoughts. 'I know I'll always be there for me' Specifically on the topic of the transition of 'me' you this primarily represents the artist holding his word long enough until the audibly fades out. Same for the effect on 'and ii' to maintain some reconisable consistency. With this fading following through on words such as 'trouble' too as a signifier of the gradual shift from calm to danger. As it changes to the colour pink because of its contrast and shade against the black background it suggests something more menacing therefore having connotations of danger and fear. Once again with the 'these days we struggle' the word struggle is shown on a slant to imitate being on the edge perhaps not keeping it together as well as other words presented on the screen. Struggling is almost pushed to the back due to the overwhelming feelings that those around him cannot see. As this song was written during covid emotions were much more difficult for individuals to pick up on through social media channels.

'I'm feeling like I'm at the speed of light' moves across the screen to show a sense of speed ad urgency as the artists thoughts jump quickly meaning you need to pay attention as an audience to his next feelings. I decided to keep the lyric 'dontanswerthat' together without spacing because of how the artist wrote the lyrics down himself. I felt this successfully showed the rhetorical question along with the afterthought of embarrassment or even fear when questioning his worth. With a blue background to reinforce the artists passiveness when asking that question.

Our journey back to the negative thoughts 'with no fans around' is represented through the size and text placement. Being smaller with no movement to show the artists distress at being along. Small text being overwhelmed by huge amounts of negative space around it. This is to get the feeling of loneliness across.

'Try not to care too much' this is the first part as the the breakthrough of pattern changes with a more text being sprawled across the page as these choruses build up to the rap section. With a build of chaos and pace increasing as the song moves on. As the colours change through the three sentences. First, green to show the positive breakthrough he's having to ignore negative thoughts. Second, the pink to foreshadow danger. Then third, the orange to show his decent back into confusion within himself as he becomes 'distant' then this is portrayed through the fade away into the background to show the musician falling back into bad thinking habits.

'I'm on my way to this spontaneous feeling' being suggested as spontaneous through direction this time the words travel left to right instead as opposed to other text to surprise the audience asnd be less expected to transition in from that direction. Wondering fading in a a duplicate as the rest of the sentence is said. This fade shows the gradual distraction of his own thoughts. Then 'this mood is not really there' shown through the shrinking of text as the artists enthusiasm and love fades.

Finally, the rap section with a large amount of effects and colours used to enhance and reinforce meanings. This is my favorite section of the song. With effects of 'breeze' to show the speed, the colour of demon equaling danger again and 'I believe it' being in the colours it was previously shown at the start of the video to create a familiarity and remind the audience of the visual journey that has been taken since the start.

With another point at recognising the original context of the song being a bicycle being paid homage through the rotation of the text in the background as he blatantly reveals what has taken us on this journey of emotions. Then in the section saying 'pave this way' pave is used as literal foundation for the rest of the lyrics to jump onto.

[twistednuns]

March 2024

My class is in a confidence/conflict training at the moment and I loved what the trainer said about how to deal with annoying people and information. I needed to hear that: stand up straight and look them in the eye. And don't believe everything you hear.

Du hast den geilsten Arsch der Welt - I found a postcard with this line on my desk in the classroom. I was about to be flattered when I noted the little addition "mich" at the bottom. Fun.

The lady who stopped me on the street just to tell me that she loved my outfit. It's quite pathetic how simple it is to lift someone's mood. I wanna pay more compliments, too. I'd really love to adopt a more positive focus!

Browsing Sephora and &otherstories with Margit. Food, cinnamon buns and a very interesting play at Residenztheater, Prima Facie. I loved when she hung up disgusting/intimidating portraits of old, white men during the court scene. Impressive.

MONKI tahin. The highlight of every breakfast for a while now.

Visiting Ralf in Jena. He picked me up from the train station and I felt at ease immediately. The whole weekend was very relaxed, close, beautiful. We are very good together. I loved lying around on the dock by the river in Paradies park - the first real outdoor session this spring. Talking about everything. Cuddling and getting to know each other in his apartment. Playing the piano together. Finally revisiting the planetarium. I met his friends Jona and Steve at a small concert. The next day, he dragged me up a hill. We enjoyed the view, then shot at a beer can with bow and arrow. We stopped at a cafe and walked back down. I walked 32000 steps that weekend!

A two-day English language teacher training about creative methods. I really enjoyed being the student for a change. I need to go back to school myself in one way or another.

Buying sourdough bread and a chocolate croissant at manufactum during my lunch break. A friendly interaction with two other customers.

Vietnamese food followed by a massage.

Turning a game of chess around. I won - even though I'd made a grave mistake early on and lost my Queen.

A yin and yang pattern on my freshly brewed coffee.

Seeing some if my stained glassware lined up in the dishwasher. Such pretty colours!

Another long talk with the osteopath about kinks, energy, addiction. I found out he used to be a Lindy Hop instructor and NEED to befriend him now. I also loved how my body felt after the session. I had a cup of coffee at 4pm: great strategy - felt super energized in yoga class! Is there a connection? I loved my low pain / high energy level that day.

Inspiration: writing and illustrating a children's book (found a cute know-it-all book the other day) and founding an online business (listened to one of Christina's Holistic CEO podcast episodes).

Listening to music by Iniko.

Preparing a treasure map for Lian's birthday party.

Heike's surprising rap part in Joyful Joyful.

Buying a big stack of boxes at IKEA. I'm kinda looking forward to organizing my basement compartment now.

Schmand.

Interacting with the little ones in my role as Earth Demon. Mara looking me straight in the face saying "I've seen you somewhere... I KNOW you!" Talking to Ale, meeting Tommy. Getting along fine with Jessy. Retreating to functioning mode but transitioning into a very relaxed night with Christian, Tobi, Tommy and Charlie the cat (who kept jumping on my lap, demanding affection). I had a fit of shivers and C. helped me stay grounded. Felt unreal. Sleeping it off. Meeting the gang again at 4am. Cooking for everyone the next day. And reconnecting with C. After a bad week. He shared his emotions and thoughts with me, said: "WHEN we're vibing we're vibing extremely hard." Sex was intense. He shook my hand afterwards and congratulated me for being part of his most intense sexual experience so far. He tried affirmation porn on me, calling me his Goddess. Mentioned my beautiful face and promised to always be there for me.

A mental image I might have to turn into an actual painting: Nina Hagen dragging me forwards as my inner heroine and Mara holding me back as my little demon because it's not safe to step ahead.

Letting my fingertips run over C's head and face in surprising patterns to the rhythm of the music. He said it felt like a little spider spinning a neuronal network.

My body doing the work for me. I didn't feel like going to Pub Quiz and I actually fell asleep that evening and had to excuse myself after waking up too late.

People staring at me in the morning. Or rather, looking at me as if I'm the most interesting person they've seen that day.

A new haircut! It's layered and light and I have lovely face-framing pieces now.

Buying a strawberry-ice-cream-coloured T-shirt. And Lagerfeld-esque aviator sunglasses. And nail polish in a deep, dark, golden bronze. Just in case.

Thinking about my goals for 2024. The ones that's really help me progress. The scary ones.

A women's Tantra circle at Rote Mondin (a magical yurt right in the middle of the city, next to the train tracks). I noticed how much time I'm spending in masculine energy, and how much easier it often is for me to be "one of the dudes". I felt an impulse to learn more about Tantra and finally read the book I've had for months now. And afterwards, Simone came up to me and asked me about my community in Munich, and electronic music. My gaydar was on, rightfully so. A nice connection.

Unearthing delicious green pesto from my freezer. Thank you, me from the past.

Finally putting on a sweater after having endured the cold for far too long.

Trying out for the solo part in Joyful Joyful. Improving so much in the second round.

Feli sent me a few stickers her friends have made of her. I put one on my water bottle!

Listening to inspiring podcasts in the car.

Smelling of Georg's laundry detergent after our osteopathy sessions.

Wearing yellow.

Being more relaxed at work. I LOVE having two days off now, it makes such a big difference.

Exchanging gifs of our "astral bodies" with Ralf when we wanted to cuddle but were so far apart. His was a proud unicorn with a rainbow mane, mine a cheeky cat. Of course.

Dill pickles.

Building two nifty shelf units for the basement. Starting to unpack all the boxes of art supplies I brought from my old school. It already looks like an art studio or store down there. But I didn't have the energy to declutter yet. There is still so much stuff I don't need. Donate, sell, gift. My mission for next week.

Affluence.

Cuddle movie night at Luna's. Finally seeing Burner friends again after a longer hiatus. Getting freaky with Robert. Playfights, petting Heinrich's cat personality, floating on the K cloud.

Cheering up C in the morning. Going to Anatolian brunch with Luna, Patri, David, Tobi, Lukas and Jazz. Afterwards we went to a pop-up plant sale and I had to advise everyone after they'd found out that I'm a crazy plant lady. Returning to Filzhof with Tobi, ordering pizza and playing a board game together.

What happens to me every few years: I hear the first notes of Madonna's Frozen which reminds me of how fascinating I find the song.

Feeling C's sparkly fire energy inside of me. Simply telling him to "enjoy". Helping him out with identifying the holes in his personality.

Yoga Sunday with Lucie. Meeting her husband Gerald. Dancing and shaking to the beat of the drums with my eyes closed. doTERRA essential oils in Wild Orange and a grounding blend. Drinking infused water, playing with an orange. Singing together, harmonizing. Enjoying the movement and my strength. Falling asleep immediately during the break. Blueberry cake. Feeling all the muscles between my ribs the next day. Waking up to their song in my head: I am the light of my soul, I am beautiful, I am bountiful, I am bliss, I am I am.

Accidentally creating a twinset when I bought a shirt in exactly the same shade of soft green as a cardigan I already had.

Talking with my students about war, stereotypes, human rights and asylum.

Solving a conflict with communication instead of passive aggression.

Feeling snackish. Eating a bunch of raw vegetables with tzatziki. Healthy, crunchy, delicious.

Finally finishing my review for 2023.

Reading Leonora Carrington's biography. I'm so inspired - and I'm realising that I've always been a Surrealism fangirl.

Buying a comfortable bra that actually fits me and gives my boobs a nice shape. What a rarity.

Seeing the fluffy orange neighbour cat for the first time after the winter. And sitting outside on the balcony chair for the first time, too!

Starting to read The Perfectionist's Guide to Losing Control - I felt seen and couldn't put it down.

Seeing Pictures of an Exhibition by Mussorgsky in Gasteig HP8 with my class. It was a lovely concert - with little acts and explanations in-between!

A short trip to Valencia with my bestie. First and foremost, we LOVED the aromatic smell of the orange blossoms everywhere. We noticed it for the first time on our first night, walking over a deserted plaza in the rain. It followed us on our strolls through the city. Walking through the Central Market one morning, there were even more interesting smells. All the fresh fruit and baked goods... So rich! / A cat sleeping in the sunshine behind a homeless man. A dude wearing a red bandana and wide-leg pants. / Taking lots of picture of orange trees instead of the architecture. Creating a photo-love-story of Sash and her food. Modeling my autumn colour outfit in front of an orange wall. / Walking through Ruzafa. Discovering interesting art galleries, used book stores, vintage shops. When I entered Kowalski Cosas Bellas Artes I immediately knew I was in danger zone. So many interesting things to discover! I had such a lovely conversation (in Spanish!!) with the owner and he recommended lots of his favourite museums, bars and restaurants in the area. / Angel numbers following me around as I go, glitter on the floor leading the way. / Warm soft-bake cookies with dark chocolate, walnuts and sea salt. Iced latte. Hot ramen noodle soup with the perfect miso egg. / Cycling through the impressive Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias. The Science Museum was super interesting. I learned a lot about space travel and human genetics. And, my favourite thing: watching little chicklets hatching! They looked exhausted but kept hacking at their siblings. Such a special thing to witness! / Touching the Mediterranean. Ice-cream by the sea. How I love a good 180° ocean view. / After the little Surrealism exhibition, we walked through a park and I saw a gorgeous cat cuddling up to a lady on a bench. They both found a friend that afternoon! / Really good interior design and architecture - well, Valencia was the European Capital of Design in 2022 and it shows. We stayed in Casa Clarita, an art hotel designed by Jaime Hayon. / Too much shopping. The Nice Things store. Crush gallery. Vintage stores. / Palm trees against old brick walls. / Inspiring art. Little paintings by Alberto Porta (Zush). / Agua de Valencia in a glass almost as big as my head. We fell asleep early that evening. Strong stuff. / Spending a lot of time with Sash for a change. We don't see each other often anymore but it's nice that we still click. Oh, and finding out that she is a Manifesting Generator, too! Power couple. //

An adorable selfie of Christian and Mara. Felt a little jealous!

Going on a trip down south with Christian and Lian. First we stopped at Chiemsee where we threw gifts for my mum in the water. C. threw a coloured egg, introducing himself to my mum and wishing her Happy Easter. He told her that he is with me now. I brought her crystals and a bunch of flowers, a big orange rose in the middle. I attached a little feather and incense to it and released everything to the water. A fragrant little boat. I sent a few tears after it, they merged with the lake water. I told her I missed her and that I'm so much like her - more and more as time passes. Afterwards we visited C.'s friend and "spirit guide" Gyan who actually reminded me a lot of my mother. A wise older man with a lust for life and a rich past. We ate his delicious apple marzipan and walnut cake with a big dollop of cream. Then we went on a walk down to the river and threw big stones into the water. On the way back, we collected wild garlic and I made pesto which we ate with spaghetti. A beautiful afternoon.

[whirlybirbs]

         (  chapter 6′s gif by @buckysbarnes​​ from this lovely set !  )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  6/?

summary: gunshot wounds, panic attacks, and evil next door neighbors.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 5.3k, a filler before the real sexual tension.

a/n: be warned, this chapter has a diy medical procedure where bucky removes the slug from rabbit’s shoulder. it’s nothing too graphic, but keep that in mind! also, i wanted to say thank you to everyone who has rec’d, reblogged, commented, kudos, liked, looked at this fic. the response to every chapter has been so overwhelmingly kind and i’m so thankful that i have the oppurtunity to share this fic with you all. that being said, i broke this chapter up. next week has some spice. ;-)

        (   PREVIOUSLY   |    AO3    |    MASTERLIST  |   NEXT )

Bucky wakes up with a headache that feels like someone’s tapped an icepick between his eyes. A fire-bright burn radiates under his ribs.

It’s a slow creep back to reality — he just lays there and stares at the peeling wallpaper that meets the corner of the ceiling for a while, knowing deep in the back of his muddled, confused thoughts that he most likely has a nasty concussion, maybe a few broken ribs.

How? Hm. Fighting. Music? The club.

Rabbit.

He sits up fast and Bucky’s blue eyes struggle to adjust in the low-light of the scarcely furnished apartment. The searing pang of his headache is enough to make his stomach churn, but he’s had worse. So much worse. This is manageable. So, he swallows down the nausea and looks around the room like a wounded animal — and almost immediately, relief greets him at the sight of you in the armchair across from the couch.

Your hair is a mess, falling from it’s previous style that you’d proudly worn to The Glass Cannon. Your lipstick is smeared, there’s glitter on your cheeks, and your make-up has transitioned from starlet beauty to broken-hearted bombshell. Bucky notices, with a bit of dismay, that you’re even missing an earring. There’s a nasty bruise forming along the peak of your cheekbone and a gash there from when Alexei had cracked you across the face with the pistol — and even despite all this, Bucky can feel his heart clench at the sight of you. A good clench. The sort that makes his heart kick into a stutter step.

You look… well, you look like someone who’d had the shit choked out of them and then was shot.

Shot.

Your jacket, punched clean through with the single bullet hole, is hanging over the back of the chair and there’s gauze taped to your shoulder. You’re leaning your good cheek in your hand, attention turned totally to Bucky, where you’ve fallen asleep. From here, you’re a picture of exhaustion.

Anxiety flashes in his heart and he swings his legs over the edge of the couch.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Take it easy.”

It’s the woman from before, Kiwi, and she’s got an ice pack in her hands. It’s wrapped in a ratty, green dish towel, and she hands it off to Bucky with a pitiful little look. Rounding the couch, Bucky finally gets a better look at her.

She’s older than you, maybe by a handful of years, but sharp and beautiful nonetheless. Her hair is dark as night and the tips are drenched in a lime colored dye. Her eyes are dark, too, ringed by kohl and glitter, and Bucky wonders if he’s ever seen her before.

“You heal quick,” she says quietly as she plops down into the chair across the room. On a makeshift desk, there’s a laptop, “Care to explain how you know our dear friend Rabbit here?”

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. Again, his eyes fall on your sleeping form.

He maneuvers the ice pack in his hands, then gently presses it to his ribs. He melts a bit, ignoring the evident tears in the silk shirt. He feels bad — he’d busted some of the seams in the midst of the brutal scuffle and it seems like this artifact of Jaimie’s was most likely beyond salvation.

His dog tags jingle against his chest.

“Therapy,” Bucky croaks, “We, uh, we met in therapy.”

A new voice comes into the picture now, one that’s muffled by a mouthful of food.

“That’s cute.”

It’s the other one, Climber. He’s traded in his all-black, all-polyurethane outfit for an expensive looking t-shirt. Without the strobes, without the tunnel vision, Bucky can now see the intricate buzz cut that sits beneath the mountain of blue curls on his head. There are patterns buzzed into his tight-shave. He’s got a smile, too, the glimmers a little too artificially. Bucky spies crystals inset on his incisors between bites of what looks like a bowl of cereal with no milk. Spoon and all.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met,” Climber says as he plops down next to Bucky on the couch, “What’d you say your name was?”

A hand is jutted his way. Bucky blinks. He shakes it with his vibranium hand.

“I’m Bucky.”

“Well, I’m gay and you’re gorgeous,” he says candidly, giving it a good shake, “So, if that’s of any interest—”

“Can you please shut up, Climber?” comes an irritated rasp from you in your armchair. Bucky turns to watch as you raise your head and rub your eyes, “Christ, I just fell asleep.”

“And your little supersoldier just woke up,” Kiwi chirps from her preoccupation with the laptop and contents on it, “So why don’t you stop being a little baby and let him look at that gunshot wound.”

Bucky’s face falls flat. He drops the ice pack to the coffee table with a thwunk.

You sit up, gingerly trying to maneuver yourself so as to not bother both your ribs and your shoulder. It takes a moment, but finally you’re sitting up with only a dull ache of pain throbbing beneath your skin. Now, the real sting comes from the bitter look Bucky has pinned you with.

“You haven’t cleaned it yet?”

“The shits in the kitchen,” Kiwi waves at Bucky, as if to say told you so, “She fuckin’ refused to let me take care of it.”

“You’re going to get an infection if it stays in you any longer,” he snaps, standing to his feet, “Get up.”

“Kiwi isn’t exactly the most gentle person I know,” you manage to supply as an excuse as you move through the room, “And I know that thing isn’t coming out without a fight.”

He can feel the grey hairs coming in already.

You stand slowly, and Bucky looms behind you as you weave into the small apartment’s kitchen.

It’s barely lived in, but a few years ago it most definitely had life. Now, it’s mostly abandoned save for a few necessities. Kiwi had told you, a long time ago, about this spot — it was her parent’s place before the Snap. After the Blip, they ended up moving back to Massachusetts. Now abandoned by anyone seeking to really live in the one bedroom, it sits collecting dust until Kiwi inevitably needs it.

Like now.

“Up on the counter.”

You wince at his tone, but still thankful to be away from Kiwi and Climber’s prying eyes.

For the entire time Bucky had been out, you’d been subjected to a myriad of questions — all were fair, really, since Bucky did just bust out the Avenger-level super-moves on some Russian mafiosos for your sake, vibranium arm and all. The arm was really the biggest stuck point in the conversation as you tried your best to explain the nature of your relationship with the unconscious supersoldier on the couch. It was met with plenty of looks, both curious and skeptical.

You’re slow to hop up on the dusty marble countertop. From there, you watch Bucky poke through the kit that Kiwi had pulled from under the sink.

Then, with the calculated process of a man who has pulled one too many bullets from himself, Bucky slams the kit shut and wanders into the bathroom.

He returns with a pair of large tweezers. He’s silent as the dead as he rummages for a pan, fills it with water, and sets the gas burner on. He stares, watching the pot boil, as his foot taps against the floor.

You swallow down any comments.

There’s a clean towel beside you, and Bucky casually reached into the boiling water with his vibranium hand to retrieve the tweezers — whether or not he purposely ignored the pain is lost on you. You’re too busy anxiously spiraling into silence.

(He’s trying to ground himself, to feel something other than panic. It’s a mild spike, but it’s still panic. Because you’re hurt. Because you still have a fucking casing lodged in your shoulder and he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you. Ever. Because he saw it happen and then it was black, and now that anxiousness is creeping in.)

Rubbing alcohol, tweezers, gauze, tape, and… Jack Daniel’s.

It’s from the top of the fridge. It’s got a layer of dust on it — and it’s unopened.

Bucky unceremoniously pops the cap and hands the open bottle to you.

You take it and pause.

Bucky’s gaze is cold.

“You’re gonna want to take a few swigs, Doll.”

You almost snarl. You take a long drink then, ignoring the burn of the whiskey down your throat. It’s only when you’ve had enough to nearly gag that you hand the bottle back and then hiss:

“Don’t call me Doll.”

He takes the bottle and unceremoniously slams it down on the counter.

His movements are rough as he washes his hands — and if Bucky was a better person, maybe he’d take a second and parse through why he was feeling so damn irritable. But, no, no, he could figure out that he was angry at himself and you and Alexei Gardzov and Innessa Sidrova and fucking… everyone because he can’t have any normal relationships in his life without there being bloodshed or pain or suffering. That was enough, and he didn’t want to dig deeper into the nipping fear of losing you, not now, not when he had a job to do—

You suck in a sharp breath when his fingers brush your collarbone. He gently moves the delicate strap of your bodysuit, ignoring the soft skin beneath, and pulls the gauze away from your shoulder.

Your jacket had taken most of the impact it seems. Bucky frowns deeply at the pink fibers clinging to the entry wound. It’s a nasty puckered bit of flesh, smeared with blood, right in the soft muscle of your left shoulder. The hole is a little smaller than a quarter — Bucky recognizes it as shot from a 9mm almost immediately. He’s taken a few of these in his days. He’s glad it wasn’t close range. The burns from the muzzle flash make for nasty scars. He’d know. He has one on his back, right above his hip.

Bucky’s jaw is tight. He’s gritting his back teeth. His headache throbs angrily behind his eyes.

Bucky leans, eyeing the wound carefully. His limited reaction is enough to spark a little light of bravery in your gut, and you move to look at the hole — only to find a vibranium hand rooting your jaw in place. It’s gentle enough as it recorrects the line of your gaze straight ahead. His thumb rests on the curve of your chin as his index climbs your jaw, and the vibranium is warm and cold all at once. It’s an odd sensation. Not bad, but not flesh.

You like it.

(You find your mind quickly flashing with the thought of what that hand would feel like in other places. You ignore it.)

Your eyes are stuck on Bucky.

He’s clearly upset — the pinch between his brows and the evident scowl on his lips is enough of an indication. The bridge of his nose is busted and there’s a bruise crawling under his left eye. The shirt you’d given him is a wreck, and as he bends to snatch up a rubbing alcohol soaked pad, the feeling of shame creeps up on you. The anxiousness that’s settled in the pit of your stomach doesn’t help.

Arguably, it exacerbates the symptom.

The whiskey is slow to make an impact.

But, when Bucky finally swipes the gauze across the wound, your ankles have begun to tingle and it isn’t blinding white pain you feel — not yet. It’s sharp and it feels like he’s touching your shoulder blade when he presses his fingers into the holes to clean the immediate area. That has you grimacing tightly.

His obsidian-hued hand holds your face still through it.

So, you opt to stare.

His arm reminds you of some pottery you’d seen back at the Museum of Modern Art once, on a school trip. In a dimly lit room, spotlights lit up a row of vases that had been gilded back together with gold-dusted sap. You’d sat there for nearly an hour, staring at those things. You can’t remember the name now, not while Bucky does one more pass across the wound. It started with a ‘k’. It was beautiful. You loved that exhibit. Why can’t you — fuck — remember the name? Kinsi… kinsigumi? Gumi. Kintsi —

You grit your teeth and grip the counter tightly. He pauses. You exhale.

You inhale.

Kintsugi.

The seams of his arm remind you of Kintsugi.

It’s beautiful.

Bucky’s eyes flit to yours. He sees your stare.

Maybe it’s the pain, or the half-cocked daze, but the look in your eyes is enough to spur an immediate reaction. Bucky scowls. He yanks his hand back, retreating to the supplies on the counter. He’s pulled, hard and fast, and now he seems miles away.

Quietly, and with a bit more chill than he intended, he speaks. “If it was making you nervous, you should have said something.”

It.

Your head snaps to him.

“What?” you ask, nearly incredulously.

He’s silent. He has the tweezers in his hand now.

Your eyes narrow critically — and instead of shame and anxiety, it’s hurt that flies off your tongue. It’s drenched in enough pain that Bucky hears it in the waver of your voice.

“You think I’m afraid of you?”

It’s nearly a whisper.

He swallows.

He ignores it. He has to. He doesn’t want to know the answer. Either way that conversation goes is enough to drag him into territory he can’t handle right now. Not when he needs to do this without his hands shaking.

“This is going to hurt.”

Your mouth is open — be it shock or anger, he’s not sure. Bucky, however, makes a point of ignoring your expression and your reaction by handing over the whiskey once more. You snatch it from his hands quickly. There’s a look on your face that makes his chest ache. With one last pass over him with your eyes, you take a long swig.

You feel like crying.

You won’t, though. Not now. Not while he does this.

You deserve this.

And holy fucking hell does it hurt. It’s like someone’s taken a hot poker and punctured your skin, then rotated it around and around and around. You can feel every time the tweezers touch the bullet because the metallic little click echoes in your chest. It’s enough to make your head spin, and you grit your teeth and close your eyes and try to breathe — but even after a handful of minutes, when Bucky finally retrieves the slug, there’s no relief. Just a desperate throb.

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the whiskey once more.

You do cry, finally, when Bucky packs the hole.

He rolls the gauze up tightly into a cylinder and, as gently as he can, pushes it in.

It’s a horrible choke of pain that you smother into your palm and pant through. It reminds you to breathe, and while you stare up at the water damage on the kitchen ceiling, Bucky tapes a square piece of gauze over the bruised wound and wraps your shoulder tightly. He takes his time, but there’s a curtness to his actions.

Finally, when he begins to clean up the mess of bloodied gauze, you speak.

“If you’re mad at me, then just say it.”

He snaps almost immediately, like a kicked dog. “And say what, Rabbit? That I almost lost you?”

Your mouth slips shut.

Bucky pauses what he’s doing. He drops the gauze onto the towel and he bares both hands against the counter top. He leans and exhales and drops his own head back — then, you can see his own waves of anxiety knocking him against the shore of composure. His eyes move back and forth, he inhales, and then after a long while he speaks.

It’s calmer. Not so horribly mean.

“You should have told me about Alexei.”

You go to speak — but he stops you.

“I mean really, really told me,” he explains, “Had I known he wanted your fucking head mounted on a spike, I would have kept you far away from that place.”

“We had to—”

“No,” he says sternly, standing up full height, “No, we didn’t. We never have to do anything that’s going to put you in danger. Never. I won’t do it again. You should have fuckin’ told me.”

You’re quiet.

“A few more inches to the right,” he says, gesturing to your throat with his finger. His eyes are expressive and he’s speaking like he’s lived this experience, “You’d be dead. Cold and dead and I’d be here, carrying the fucking guilt around with me because I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

His voice splinters at the end — but he’s moved to throw away the gauze and dump the tweezers in the sink. He can’t look at you as he says it, and you know that. Because, just like before, people like you and him have a hard time looking the truth in the eyes.

You slide off the counter.

Your heart is sad. It’s heavy and mournful and weighed down with guilt.

“Bucky.”

It’s soft. He’s scrubbing your blood from his hands.

He doesn’t turn around. He can’t. He can feel the prick of an anxious breakdown beginning to climb into his eyes. Instead, he scrubs and scrubs and scrubs and your blood is stuck in the plating of his hand and it’s not going to come out—

Think of what could have happened if it had been a few inches to the right. The arched spray. Blood everywhere. She can’t speak through the gargle, she’s going cold, she’s gone. And, like always, you’re alone again, Bucky.

Then, your hands are on his.

The touch is enough to stop him. It’s enough for him to move aside at the large, inset kitchen sink. You exhale slowly as you run the water a little warmer and gingerly run his hands under the tap. Your hands are smaller than his, a bit more delicate, and he’s stunned into a sharp silence at the feeling of your fingertips gently washing away the crimson blood.

You grab another dish towel from a drawer beside the stove.

Then, in the dim light of the kitchen, you take both his hands and dry them.

It’s the vibranium hand that you pay special attention to, though. And Bucky feels like a fucking idiot — just standing there, just watching as you run the rag between the gilded plating and use gentle pressure to get into the harder to reach spots. You turn it over, and you dry his knuckles.

You take your time.

You don’t look up when you speak. You’re focused. Almost reverent.

He doesn’t deserve this.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you say sternly.

His mouth is dry. “Rabbit…”

Bucky shifts on his feet and takes a deep inhale. He feels lightheaded.

The whiskey, and the closeness of the two of you, makes your skin warm. His whole nervous system feels like it’s on fire.

“I didn’t mean to stare, I don’t ever mean to,” you apologize as your hands still over his arm. He watches your irises trace the plating above his wrist. The rag is forgotten, its purpose null. Your words are heavy, and Bucky can hear a little shake in them as you swallow, “I just… think it’s beautiful.”

You’re beautiful.

Even now, blood-soaked and sweat-stained. With makeup running down your cheeks and your composure in shambles. Even now, on the run and apparently wanted, you’re incredibly beautiful. Bucky hates how easy it is to admit and how hard it is to keep off his tongue. It nearly gets the better of him. He watches your eyelashes flutter. When you look up at him, the world is suddenly drowned in honey.

“I’m sorry.”

You mean it.

Your bottom lip wobbles.

Bucky, immediately, regrets being so goddamn cold.

You were just trying to help — you were just trying to do the right thing.

“Stop it. Come here.”

The hug is the first time you can remember touching him like this. You think you’ll always remember it, too. It’s sturdy and warm and gentle and honest and you bury your face into the shoulder as his arms come up around your neck. He’s careful of your own injured shoulder, and his fingers find the base of your neck. Around his waist, your fingers dig into the back of his shirt. Both of you ground yourselves in the other’s arms, and for the first time in a handful of hours, you both find peace.

Quiet, sturdy, lovely peace.

And the two of you stay like that for a while in the quiet little kitchen.

It’s not until Climber’s voice rises from the living room that you’re pulled away from Bucky — and even then, your face linger inches from one another for a moment too long. Neither of you say a word, only swallow down confessions that could have been, and move on.

“Oh, girlie, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

Bucky frowns. With your brows knotted tightly together, you weave through the kitchen and back into the living room.

Kiwi has sat up and both her and Climber have their eyes on the bulky flat screen on the dust-covered entertainment center. It’s cable news, and as Climber leans to turn the television up, a picture of you flashes across the screen.

It’s a photo from your arrest six months ago.

“Local authorities are asking that anyone with information on the whereabouts of this young woman call the FBI’s anonymous tip line—”

“Is there a reward?” Climber whispers almost excitedly, eyes on the screen.

“—Authorities are offering $100,000 dollars to the person who provides enough information to lead up to this dangerous fugitive’s capture.”

“Dangerous fugitive?” hisses Bucky.

“A hundred thousand dollars?” cries Kiwi, “Who the fuck did you piss off?”

You inhale deeply as you wave your hands. “The bigger question is who the fuck knew I was going to The Glass Cannon last night. Because they’re looking for me — not you.”

You point at Bucky and the gears are turning in your head.

The pacing is almost immediate, and Bucky crosses his arms tightly as you begin to walk back and forth behind the full length couch that Climber is currently spread out on.

It’s cut short, though, by Kiwi’s laptop chiming successfully.

“Well,” she stands quickly, “I have a feeling that someone knows you’re onto them. And the facial recognition software just got a match. A three point one, too.”

Your eyes brighten.

You’d given Kiwi the photo of the young Innessa, with all her decorated furs and blonde curls. She’s laughing and she’s young and she’s in love and it’s hard for you to imagine a woman like her to be dangerous. While you’d made sure Bucky was propped up comfortably on the couch and then finally calmed down from the adrenaline high enough to get comfortable yourself, Kiwi had dug out the hard-drive she kept on her at all times and began pulling data from the Alexandria Library files.

It had been a handful of hours, so it was clear that Innessa had hid herself well in the vast, expansive database SHIELD kept for all those years while it was in operation.

Bucky is quick to gather behind Kiwi, eyes scanning the screen.

Sure enough, when you come to look at the photos pulled up on Kiwi’s screen, there’s a hit. There’s an identification card photo of an older woman, maybe in her forties, pulled up alongside the photo Bucky had given you. Her hair is no longer blonde, but deep auburn color. She’s marked as having worked with Rumlow — a supervisor of some sort. Makes sense. You didn’t need to see a picture of Crossbones to remember Brock. Even when you’d interned, he’d been infamous.

And that was when he was one of the good guys.

There’s a handful of other photos of her — candids, professional photos, and even one where she is shaking Tony Stark’s hand.

And in all of them, you see your next door neighbor Bonnie McLayne.

“Fuck.”

Bucky blinks. Kiwi turns to look at you over her shoulder.

Again, you speak. Your eyes are wide. You can’t look away from the screen.

“Fuck, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Rabbit…?”

“Fuck.”

Bucky’s face narrows considerably, confusion melting to make room for realization.

His voice is quiet.

“Do you know her?”

“Oh my god,” you say loudly, shaking your head and blinking, “Oh my fucking god, that’s my neighbor.”

Bucky can feel his whole face go clammy.

“The neighbor who—”

“—Who I showed your fucking picture to,” you nearly shriek, “Like it was some cute little matchmaking game!”

Immediately both hands are over your face as you throw your head back. Now, the pacing has begun, and like you’re being carried on autopilot, you begin to move back and forth and back and forth and—

“You don’t think she’d hurt Poke, do you?”

“Rabbit.”

“Oh god, oh god—”

Oh.

Oh, you’re having a panic attack.

Oh, that was quick. Brutally fast. Nearly immediate.

After all, she knows where your family lives. She gets Holiday cards from mom to give to you. She’s been your closest friend for nearly six years. But she’s not Bonnie, she’s Innessa fucking Sidrova. She’s seen you with Bucky. She knows — she knows a lot and you don’t know anything and you’re miles from home, from Poke, from Mom, from Ana… Oh, god, the baby. The baby.

“The baby.”

Bucky’s voice is level. “Rabbit, you gotta calm down.”

“I have to call my mom.”

“No,” Kiwi snaps immediately, “They’re going to be watching for your cell phone pings. No calls, no texting, none of it. And god forbid this woman is one step ahead of the FBI—”

“Oh, god.”

You gasp like a fish out of water, paralyzing fear sending you to lean against the back of the couch.

You claw at your chest and try to remember what Dr. Hart said about these sorts of moments. Square breathing. In and hold and out and hold. Again and again.  

“Sit down,” Bucky says as he returns to your side, nearly sweeping you up long enough to plop you down into the armchair from before, “And do me a favor and breathe.”

The whiskey isn’t helping right now.

“I’m trying.”

Another gasped breath.

Climber and Kiwi watch.

Bucky shakes his head sternly, kneeling on one knee and snagging your hands. “Don’t try. Just do it. You can do it. Just follow my lead — you’re the sidekick, after all. Remember? C’mon. There’s the smile. Breathe.”

So you do.

In, hold. Out, hold. You draw a square with one hand on your jeans and hold onto Bucky’s with the other.

Again, in and hold. Out and hold.

And again.

And then, you just listen to Bucky’s breathing.

You’re not sure how long it takes — half an hour, ten minutes, who knows — but finally you’re able to calm the spiraling thoughts in your head. Finally, the loudness quiets down, you catch your breath, and the world isn’t falling apart. The bite of anxiety still remains in the hollow of your chest and Bucky can see that when you finally open your eyes and squeeze his hand.

There’s that look again between the two of you. The one from before, in the kitchen.

“Good?” he asks quietly, blue eyes swimming with some sort of emotion you can’t really pin down. Not now. Maybe, if you’d been a bit more collected, you would have seen it as infatuation. But, no. It’s just… nice.

You swallow and nod.

“Damn, girl,” says Climber from his spot on the couch, “Now I’m starting to get the whole therapy thing.”

“Thanks, dickhead.”

“That’s recent, isn’t it?” he asks, genuine worry crossing his face as he stands to gently pass a hand over your back, “I don’t remember it ever being this bad.”

Your face is sad. “I was just partying through it back then. Distraction was always the best method and then… When I had no more distractions and it was just me? Alone? And, psh, the accident with Jaimie? It got worse. So much worse.”

Climber’s eyes soften. “I’m sorry, bunny.”

You try to put on a brave face.

Bucky stands from in front of you and begins his own pacing. This one isn’t so much born out of anxious nature — but more of a tactical logic born out of keeping you safe.

This wasn’t exactly the turn he was expecting.

“You didn’t recognize her?” he asks after a moment, voice high and tight.

“I’m sorry,” you wave a hand, exasperated, “She doesn’t exactly look the same as she did in the 70s.”

Kiwi frowns at the screen. “Definitely botox.”

Bucky squints. He looks to you for an explanation.

You vaguely gesture to your face.

His brow lifts, he closes his eyes, and he sighs.

Kiwi is next to pipe up. “It explains why the feds are looking for you, especially if she saw you with the one man she knows is looking to hunt her down — so, I think it’s best the both of you lay low for a couple of days.”

“Not to mention,” Climber wags a finger, “Bucky the Babe over here did just piss off one the smaller Russian crime families in New York. So, there’s always that ontop of the evil Nazi-HYDRA-woman-next-door.”

You groan.

“Poke has enough food for a week,” Bucky says nearly reading your mind, “He’ll be fine.”

“So, what? We just wait here? Until something happens?”

“Sidrova is going to try and bait us out,” Bucky mutters, “She knows she can’t just disappear. She’s been settled for too long and we know too much. Engaging us in an altercation is how she’ll do it. Plus, I have a feeling she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to shoot me in the knees after a few decades. So, we wait.”

“Few decades?” Kiwi whispers.

“How old are you?” Climber asks.

“Hundred and six.”

Both of them just blink at an unphased Bucky.

You sigh, finally standing on wobbly legs. “This feels like a bad idea. I’m just stating that for the record.”

“Better than her hunting the both of you down,” Kiwi supplies, “You can stay here. There’s cable, there’s booze, and there’s plenty of instant ramen to last you until winter.”

“Stale cereal, too.”

“Wait— where are you two going?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, “You’re leaving?”

“Keeping our hands clean,” Kiwi says, closing her laptop, “And letting you be the sidekick, bunny.”

The sadness in your heart grows a little heavier at those words, but there’s a little bit of pride in Kiwi’s tone. As she stands, she moves to wrap her arms around you in a gentle hug. Quietly, she murmurs into your hair.

“Your dad would be proud of you, y’know.”

Bucky watches.

Climber is next, and that hug is bigger, more brotherly, more like sunshine and less like autumn.

“Don’t be a stranger, Rabbit.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out as the two of them gather their belongings, “For dragging you both into this. But, thank you. You didn’t have to help me—”

“Yeah, we did,” Kiwi chirps as she knocks Bucky on the arm three times, “Keep her safe, aakarshak purush.”

The Hindi rolls off her tongue with ease.

Bucky laughs. “Bahut lamba.”

Kiwi pauses mid-step. She narrows her eyes. There’s a smile on her lips. “Your pronunciation isn’t bad.”

He shrugs plainly. “I get lunch almost everyday at the Indian place below my apartment, so. The owner has been teaching me some stuff on the side.”

An approving nod.

Kiwi hucks you the keys across the room.

She points at Bucky.

“I like him. Try not to fuck that up, eh?”

And then, the two of them are gone.

And it’s just you and Bucky in the empty apartment.

[snarkywrites]

Full Moon in Aquarius: Returning

The Full Moon in Aquarius will return for another dose of excitement on August 22nd and the transit will be felt for a few more months. This time around, the Moon will have a different tone compared to the July 23rd transit. We will not feel the anxiety and hopelessness that Saturn made us feel. Instead, we have a greater sense of optimism since Jupiter has returned to the sign of Aquarius. The conjunction with the benefic allows us to be motivated and preserves some sense of confidence as we navigate towards the next couple of months before Jupiter enters Pisces once again. Chapters close now and we can reflect and allow ourselves to let those bad habits and repeating patterns go, as we look forward without our past actions keeping us controlled.

Aries – Changes to your social circles have been happening all year. During the last Full Moon, you probably experienced some challenges with friends and might have opted to be more reserved. Now, with the repeat of this transit, you are feeling a lot more like yourself and this confidence will allow you to make peace and heal with those friends you have neglected.

Taurus – Career changes are now going to be viewed in a more positive light as this Full Moon in Aquarius closes the chapters from last month. Any pending questions will now be resolved with a boss or if you are in school, a professor might give you praises. You are here to claim your rewards with this transit, so don’t give up hope just yet.

Gemini – A positive effect of this event is that you are going to be smarter about the future and your expectations. While the first transit had you focused on regaining your control, you now feel more encouraged and empowered to take the leap and choose a major or a field that fuels your passion. Make the best of it with this transit, as Jupiter will be trining your sign, giving you luck and motivation.

Cancer – An awakening with this transit as the Full Moon returns to Aquarius to offer some guidance as you continue to transform your career path as well as your finances. With the experiences and lessons, you have learned through Saturn in Capricorn, you can use your wisdom to make breakthroughs. Jupiter in the same sign is here to lend knowledge and power. It is also a reminder of your strength.

Leo – Things might have felt cold with your personal relationships or even romantic ones as Saturn continues to transform you. The last Full Moon transit in Aquarius brought up the challenges you faced while preserving your connections with others, but now with Jupiter in the same sign as the Moon, you are more understanding, compassionate and wiser. The ones you love may need you during this time to give them an ear to listen to or a shoulder to cry on, so be there for them.

Virgo – During this transit, you are prepared for the next phases on the road ahead for the next couple of months. The last Full Moon handed you the tools needed to make more efficient decisions. Your routines have transformed to meet the obstacles and with Jupiter back in the sign of Aquarius, you will see productivity levels soar. A time that will also help you redefine those career goals.

Libra – With this transit, you see the transformation with your relationships happening this year but the most important one that is evolving is the one you have with yourself. Jupiter will be there to remind you that there aren’t any setbacks if you are willing to move on and live in the moment. An expansive period filled with excitement as you reconnect with friends, family and you may even meet more interesting people along the way.

Scorpio – Get ready to see some changes at home and your career. The differences between this month’s Full Moon compared to the one in July is that Jupiter is back in Aquarius to join the party. Utilize powerful connections now that will help you on your way to the top, especially as Leo season comes to an end. Finding your footing during the last transit has helped others see how valuable you are and how efficient you can be even when you are stressed.

Sagittarius – As the Full Moon returns once again to the sign of Aquarius, you feel your communication habits begin to transform once more. Get ready to pick up your pen or laptop and get those thoughts on paper. If you are focused on creating something valuable, go for it while Jupiter is still in Aquarius. Socializing can become much easier now, as people from the past might reappear and connect with you.

Capricorn – A defining transit that shows you are on the path to success. If you struggled before with understanding your worth, you now have the answer you seek. Jupiter will put you in a favorable light, making you feel confident. Mars is already giving you the momentum needed to get to where you want while Jupiter makes you shine brighter; many are taking notice.

Aquarius – Once again, the Full Moon returns to your sign to give us a nice sense of closure. While you continue to traverse through the trials that Saturn has placed in your path, you now have Jupiter there too showing you that anything is possible. Expect this event to be the defining one for you, highlighting your successes as well as how much you have grown during this year. Show yourself some love during this time.

Pisces – Chapters begin to close with this transit and it’s a good sign since you have the fortitude to move ahead. You can heal emotionally and spiritually with this transit, as Jupiter in the same sign can give you the optimism to know that you can overcome anything.

[mrs-gauche]

Here’s a little summary of all DA4 news we got in 2021, because I feel the need to kind of collect my thoughts at the end of the year. But please feel free to add anything I might have forgotten, even though the year didn't seem to have much to offer in terms of official new info, there still were a few crumbs here and there and some big unofficial stuff. :D

- Apparently, DA4 is purely Singleplayer now

(THE BULLET WE DODGED, thanks to the huge success of Jedi Fallen Order and the flop of Anthem, we'll honor your sacrifice. You died so DA4 Singleplayer could live. 🙏)

No but in all honesty, as much as I feel for all devs involved who put so much work into Anthem.. I was honestly relieved to hear they'd let it go completely in order to fully focus on DA4 and here's hoping that they learned from their mistakes in the Andromeda/Anthem development mess and don't have DA4 "suffer" because of the next Mass Effect (or the other way around, like pulling devs from one project to help on another.)

- 5 new concept art pieces + 2 new illustrations along with 2 new short stories on DA Day

You know, as much as I love these little nuggets of art and stuff, at some point of this year, I was like "Can't they just release DA4 as a picture book already with the amount of concept art they've put out now?" 😂

Though there seems to be a certain pattern in the concepts they reveiled, with each of them matching perfectly with the shots in the teaser on last year's VGAs, so maybe a hint and something to speculate about!

Additionally, one of the short stories does hint at a potential eight year timeskip since the events of Trespasser, which is a huge deal. What could it mean for the Inquisitor and their efforts? The Qunari invasion? The one who was left in the Fade in Here Lies the Abyss? The Warden if they’re alive? Solas’ plan? I’m not that surprised actually, given how he already hinted at “a few more years of relative peace” in Trespasser, until the Veil comes down. Almost ten years between the events in the game and the release of DA4 in real life would allow the devs to establish a new world state for old as well as new players to the series.

- Lots of new people hired, especially in the animation department!

This might be a good reminder for some that BioWare, despite creating Triple A titles, is.. actually not that big of a studio. 😅 At least not in comparison to other Triple A developers like Ubisoft for example. I feel like people tend to forget about that when setting the bar for expectations and how much budget and resources are involved. I don't know much about game development, but from what I understand, in the grand scheme of the EA catalog, BioWare is like that weird little nerdy child that they adopted in 2007, when EA's interest seemed to be anything BUT singleplayer story focused RPG games. 😂 So please guys, keep in mind that there might be only a handful of people on some of these teams right now.

- Long time veterans Matthew Goldman and Caroline Livingstone leaving BW

On that front, not to sound dramatic but.. does the DA4 team have a Creative Director right now? *nervous laughter*

There still hasn't been any official statement from neither BW or Matthew Goldman and the nature of his departure was strange, to say the least.. Like, if it hadn't been for this e-mail leak, we wouldn't even know about it.. I mean, they don't owe us a statement or anything and departures happen all the time for all sorts of reasons and it’s none of our business, but I feel like for such an important position on the team to just be gone like that after 20+ years at BW without any kind of farewell, when it wasn't even a transitional thing like with Darrah and Hudson and he always seemed so enthusiastic about DA and his work and engaged a lot with the fans on Twitter until very recently before his departure... Idk, it just doesn't feel good. :/

Caroline Livingstone, former Performance Director/VA Producer, will be working with Casey Hudson's new studio now. She was always highly praised by the VAs and the devs and always seemed to get out the best of any VAs performance, so it’s a bit sad to see her go! We don't really know how much she was even involved in DA4's development.. How much of the voice acting is done at this point? 👀

- Christian Dailey took fully over from Mark Darrah as DA4 Executive Producer

“Employee Nr. 35″ officially left BW as well in February of this year and I will miss his frustratingly vague and teasing DA4 tweets. He was literally there from the beginning. On the other hand, we now get to hear his side of game development in a really informative way on his own YouTube channel!

- A very insightful presentation on the challenges of production during the pandemic by Scylla Costa, DA4 Lead Producer at BIG Festival 2021

Here we got a little glimpse of some MoCap/Pcap sessions, as well as what I assume has to be the writer’s room? 👀 It’s a really interesting presentation and it’s kind of crazy how BioWare basically went into work from home the day after they had gathered the whole team to review DA4′s story and how they never really had the chance to settle in the new Epcor Tower place.

- In a shocking revelation, the Veil is a thong

I think watching the Gamers for Groceries stream was definitely the most I laughed throughout the whole year. Thank you, Patrick, I’m still in tears.

- DA4 might be released in 2023

If this is true, we could expect them to kick off the marketing in earnest next year! And given their blog message on DA Day, I think we can definitely look forward to finally get some substantial stuff in 2022! :D

- Elven bum for DA4 confirmed

We may not even have a title for this game, but rest assured, there will be booty.

[vnderoos]

better than butterbeer ✷ cedric diggory

(gif is not mine, credit to the owner) warnings / language(?), a barely steamy scene at the end word count / 2.8k

masterlist in bio ↴

THE CORRIDOR WAS FILLED with students, all of them rushing every which way as they all transitioned from one class to another. "Watch where you're walking, you bloody—" Y/N started to snap when she slammed straight into the chest of another student, but she cut herself off when she looked up and her eyes met the beautiful grey's of Cedric Diggory. Her stomach did a backflip and her cheeks immediately flushed red at her previous words. She cursed her quick tongue silently. "I'm sorry, Diggory, I thought you'd be someone else," she told him, feeling guilty for trying to bite his head off.

Cedric, on the other hand, was quick to shake his head and flash her a toothy smile. "No problem, Y/N/N, just read this, will you? I've got to get to class," he hummed, holding a folded note out to her, and she took it in her hands softly. She didn't have time to ask him questions about it—in fact, she didn't have time to say anything else at all—before he patted her once on the arm and stepped around her.

She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, watching as he disappeared into the flood of other students, and she looked back down at the piece of parchment between her fingers with furrowed brows. She felt a little uneasy thinking about what was on it as she started towards her own next class, as Cedric normally tended to speak with her in person and not through exchanging notes, but she was curious about it nonetheless. She thumbed it open delicately and her eyes flickered over the paper.

Come to the Great Lake after your classes. I want to show you something. — From: Ced :)

Y/N couldn't help but grin down at his message after she'd read it, tracing his smiley face with her thumbnail. This wasn't the first time that Cedric had wanted to show her something. He'd taken her on handfuls of spontaneous trips, actually—like the time he brought her to a field outside of the castle grounds to see a bunch of light blue wildflowers, or when he snuck her up to the Astronomy Tower after curfew just so he could point out the constellations with her—and she couldn't help but feel excited that he'd thought of something else.

She folded his note back up and tucked it neatly into one of the pockets of her leather bag, for safe keeping, of course.

—

Y/N's classes hadn't seemed to end quick enough that day as she'd sat through the rest of her lectures with Cedric's message pinging around in her head the whole time. All she could think about was what he wanted to show her at the Great Lake that she hadn't already seen before. It was just a lake—filled with nasty little Grindylows and a giant squid, sure—but it was just a lake nonetheless. At one point during her day, her head had been so clouded with possibilities that McGonagall had even gotten onto her for neglecting to write any notes for the entire first half of the class.

Miss Y/L/N, I do hope you realize that daydreaming all class won't help you pass your OWLs. Plus, I'm sure your parents didn't buy you such a pretty quill for you to tap it against your chin all year, she'd said. The red that had tinged Y/N's cheeks after that had been brighter than Ron Weasley's hair, especially since almost every head in the class had spun to face her.

All of that had been forgotten, though, as she hurried down the dirt pathway to the Great Lake, her hair and her leather bag bouncing as she ran downhill. The path soon faded into the rest of the grass, and as she neared the lake, she spotted a figure laying in a patch of sun on the grassy slope that led down to the bank. She recognized the familiar mess of his brown hair and his Hufflepuff robe and she was quick to identify him. One of Cedric's knees were bent, keeping him laying steady on the slant of the ground, and the other was extended out in front of him.

He was looking up at the sky when she walked up behind him, a small smile tugging at her lips at how concentrated he looked. "Hey, Diggory," she called from a few feet away, with a playful lilt in her voice and her green robes swaying with the gentle breeze.

At her greeting, Cedric pushed himself into a sitting position and he turned to smile at her over his shoulder. His cheeks were dusted pink from the slight nip in the air and it was all she could do to notice how good he looked in that moment, especially with the warm light of the sun rays shining behind him. She'd always found herself captivated by him, though, as most girls did. He really was a good-looking boy, but something inside of her always made her feel like it was better that she kept that to herself.

"Hey, Y/N."

Y/N flashed him a light smile in return, choosing to ignore the way that her stomach swirled when her name left his lips. "You know, we could've gone to get butterbeer instead," she told him as she made her way towards him, setting her bag next to his in the grass, and he shook his head softly.

"I wanted to show you something, though, remember?" he told her and she nodded once. How could she forget it when it was all that she'd been thinking about since she bumped into him in the corridor? He patted the space beside him in the grass. "Lay next to me," he instructed and she waited until he moved his hand away to take her seat, lowering herself down onto the ground.

She folded her hands over her chest and Cedric rested his over his stomach as they looked up at the sky. Nothing about it looked out of the ordinary or particularly interesting to her. "So, what'd you wanna show me?" she questioned, curiosity prickling under her skin as she studied the familiar, blue sky and the same, white clouds for something new.

Cedric let out a breath of amusement, a smile breaking out onto his lips, at her eagerness. She was always like this when he took her to see these sorts of things—impatient and overly excited—but he blamed himself for that in part. He loved a good buildup. "Just wait a bit and you'll see," he promised, tapping his thumbs against his stomach, and she nodded. The two of them fell into a comfortable silence as they laid still in the grass until the sun started to set. As the sun went down, it painted the sky with so many pretty colors—shades of pink, orange, and yellow streaking between the clouds. Since they were sitting on the side of the lake, with no trees looming over their heads, the view was beautifully unobstructed, too. "This," Cedric said, grinning up at the sight. "This is what I wanted to show you."

When she'd come to meet him, she hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this. She'd heard from Fred and George a long while ago that on particularly sunny days, the giant squid would bask in the shallows of the water for warmth, so the thought of that being Cedric's surprise crossed her mind once, but she hadn't even considered such a spectacular sunset.

"This is beautiful." Her voice was a breathless whisper as the sight had left her in awe. She found herself lifting one of her hands up to the sky, pointing her finger at a specific place where the sunlight looked like trickling gold behind the clouds. It was so vivid that part of her thought she might be able to coat her fingers in it if she reached out far enough. "That's my favorite part. It's so pretty, isn't it?" she asked him and she could see his hand enter her field of vision as he pointed up at the same, molten cloud.

"That one?" he asked and the side of his hand grazed her own in the close proximity. His skin left tingles against her own that shot all the way down to her elbow, and she looked over at him with newly flushed cheeks. She nodded her head. She had noticed when she walked up that Cedric looked nice that day, with a bit of color in his skin from the cold, but only then, while they were laying face-to-face, did she realize how handsome he really looked. His walnut hair spilled into the grass and a little over his forehead, some of the strands sleek with the reflection of the sunlight. His skin looked so warm beneath the orange lighting that the sun cast across him and she could see patterns in his irises when her eyes came to meet his. Her breath hitched in her throat when his full lips parted before he spoke. "It is pretty," he muttered with his eyes never veering from her own and she could barely hear him over the drumming of her heart in her chest.

It was like time seemed to stand still in that moment as the fingers on their hands, both still suspended in the air, fell relaxed. She saw his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed thickly, moving the back of his hand to graze over her own softly. She sucked in a breath and his knuckles rustled over hers, before he began to trail them down her arm slowly.

Cedric's eyes were locked on hers the whole time he did it, like he was looking for a sign that she didn't want this, but she was frozen still. His touch left goosebumps in its wake as it travelled the length of her arm and she shuddered.

When his hand reached Y/N's face, he hooked his forefinger beneath her chin and swiped his thumb over her bottom lip. She couldn't stop herself from grabbing his wrist lightly and pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb. He blinked once and his tongue darted between his lips, running itself over them as he watched her. She managed a small smile at him, and she folded his hand into a fist, peppering a kiss to each of his knuckles.

"Diggory?" she asked and he hummed curiously. "I've got something to tell you," she whispered against his skin. His eyebrows lifted, as if to encourage her, and she closed her eyes. She took a deep breath before she opened them again and she gave his hand a squeeze. "It's been on my mind for a while, but I think I really like you," confessed Y/N, her voice as quiet as ever. "I realize that we're friends and it's probably stupid of me to even think of you like that, because it might ruin everything, but—"

Y/N stopped talking when Cedric leaned in to kiss her. His lips planted a soft peck against her own, leaving the sweet taste of caramel and her heart pattering after they'd gone. "I really like you, too," he responded with a grin.

She could feel her cheeks flaring, probably just as pink as the setting sun, and she smiled softly. "Oh." Her heart was thundering in her ears and her stomach was swarming with butterflies at his similar confession. She never would've thought that her sly, Slytherin heart would beat so quickly for a happy, Hufflepuff boy, but she'd be damned before she ever found herself complaining. "That— That's nice," she stuttered out, still in a state of disbelief, and his honeyed laugh filled her ears.

Cedric, whose hand was still in her clutches, pulled her hands over to his own lips and he kissed the back of her hand. "'Nice'?" he repeated. "Just 'nice'?" he asked again, his voice obviously teasing, but her face was on fire nonetheless.

She shot him a look of mock annoyance—the smile tugging on her lips giving her away—because he'd always known but how to get under her skin. "Shut up, you know you make me nervous, you prick," she told him and another laugh spilled from his lips, but it didn't last long that time because he caught her staring at his lips. His laughter died down as her eyes moved back to meet his, her hands falling from his own. With the thought now in his head, his eyes flickered to her mouth, only for a second, and she reached out to grab one of the sides of his robe. She ran her thumb over the fabric nervously, shifting her eyes to her fingers and back up to his again. "Would you... Would you kiss me again, Diggory?" she questioned, clearing her throat, and a smirk crossed onto his lips at the question. He was quite cocky then, and part of her hated it, but the other part of her thought it was the hottest thing.

"Diggory? Really?" he muttered, pretending to ignore her question as he plucked at a piece of grass between them, and she sighed in frustration, still playing nervously with his robe. "I thought for sure you'd use my first name by now," he teased and she rolled her eyes.

"Is that what you want?" she asked.

"I don't think I've ever wanted anything more," he joked, touching a hand to his chest and tightening it into a fist to make it seem like it wasn't all just a ploy to tease her—which it was.

"Fine," she hummed. "Would you kiss me again, Cedric?" she repeated her question and his name fell from her lips like a whisper, the cockiness on his face falling clean off after it did. She could see a flicker of something pass in his eyes and she furrowed her brows. "What?" she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I think I might like it when you call me Cedric," he said with a small smile on his lips, and before she could answer, he propped himself up on his elbow. He reached out to cup one of her cheeks softly in his hands, leaning down to press his lips against hers.

The kiss started out slow and sweet, just two longing mouths melding into one quiet moment, but the second that Y/N sighed against his lips, the mood shifted. Cedric's hand slid from her cheek and he knotted his fingers in the locks of her hair, pulling her mouth roughly against his by the back of her neck, and he poured more passion into the kiss. Her fingers were still clasped around the sides of his robe and she pulled his body closer to her own.

Cedric's balance teetered at her actions and he grunted against her mouth, his hand leaving her hair and slamming down on the other side of her. His lips broke from hers at the quick motion and their eyes met for a second. His pupils were dark as he looked down at her, his chest heaving, and they only stayed apart long enough for him to slot one of his legs between hers. His lips attached themselves to hers once more and her hands let go of his robe, sliding up the muscles on his chest and coming to tangle themselves in his hair. He lowered himself down closer to her body, using his hands to keep himself hovered over her, and his tongue swiped against her bottom lip in his next kiss.

From then on, the two were a mess of lips and tongue, and they'd even cracked teeth at once on accident, but when they'd gotten their fix, Cedric pulled away. The two were both red, and not just from the cold anymore, and they were panting like dogs. Cedric started to laugh softly, pulling his arm up from the other side of her and falling back onto his side as she joined in. "I take back what I said earlier." She lifted a hand to wipe the saliva off of her swollen mouth and she pushed herself up onto her own elbow. "This was way better than butterbeer," she hummed.

Cedric chuckled and he threw his head back. "You're telling me," he agreed. When he let himself fall back into the grass again, Y/N did the same and he set his hand, palm-down, in between them. She tucked her hand beneath his and intertwined their fingers, sending him a soft smile.

For the rest of the sunset, she stared contentedly up at the sky, sneaking glances at the beauty laying beside her, but for him, it was the other way around.

He found her far more stunning.

↴

taglist / @pvintbreak​ @umpoedameron​ @h4ppydancing​

[c-is-writing]

intimacy

pairing: lena luthor x gn!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1894

warnings: none

a/n: okay ngl i was pretty head empty while writing it so i apologize if this made no absolute sense :’D

original request

It all began with a simple brush against her hand that led to two hands intertwined with each other, swinging back and forth as the two of you walked through a park. The sun was setting, casting a peach light across all surfaces before transitioning into shades of pink and purple until settling into the dark blue of the night. You lean your head on Lena’s shoulder as the two of you continued to walk under the dim lamps scattered along the path. It was almost as if you were the only two people in the whole world. As you absentmindedly hum a tune, Lena could feel the heat rush to her cheeks, painting them red like the sunset sky. The warmth radiating off your body pressed against her side comforted her in a way that she never knew she needed until now. The hand connected to yours suddenly feels burning hot but Lena makes no effort to remove it. There’s no way a Luthor, someone who is meant to be cold and cruel and undeserving of this sort of comfort, could enjoy something like this. Right?

Wrong. Absolutely wrong. Ever since that park date, Lena has practically become addicted to your touch. She constantly craves it like a smoker with a cigarette but she has restraint, she has an image to uphold as a Luthor. To her, it’s almost embarrassing how quickly she gives into your touch. Despite the embarrassment, the CEO is willing to do anything to feel your touch on her skin again. 

A knock on the office door brings her out of her dilemma as she looks up to meet your bright smile and bag of takeout in your hand. Immediately feeling a warmth bloom in her chest, she returns the smile as you make your way towards her. Placing the bag down on a spot that’s not covered by papers, you finally greet your lover.

“Hey, Lee.”

“Hi, love.”

“Are you ready to take a quick lunch break or do you still need to finish some work?”

Glancing at the unfinished document on her screen, Lena shakes her head and says, “I’m more than ready for lunch, I’m starving. Just let me clear off my desk first.”

Giving her an okay, you take the bag to the coffee table and settle down, watching as Lena organizes the files. You reach into the brown bag to pull out the lunch items when you hear a gasp. Your head shoots up to see Lena holding her finger tightly. Rushing over you quickly ask, “Is everything okay? What happened?”

Almost laughing, Lena waves it off as nothing major. “I just got a papercut that’s all.”

“May I take a look at it?” 

“Oh, sure, I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” Lena says after seeing the concern in your eyes.

She watches as you grab a bandaid from the first aid kit in the office and return to the table. Lena’s heart practically stops as you go to grab the injured hand. The gentle, feather-like grasp on her finger was enough to make her melt on the spot. As you wrap the bandage around the small cut, you press a soft kiss to it before placing her hand back into her lap. At this point, Lena has been reduced to a very flustered and embarrassed mess as her brain scrambles to understand what just happened. You were so gentle and loving with Lena that she could feel your adoration and care for her through your actions. Lena quickly clears her throat to hopefully pause her panicking mind and calm her racing heart. 

Noticing how Lena is still sitting in her chair, you take one of her hands and lead her to the couch where the two of you talked and had lunch together. Throughout the conversation and eating, Lena could still feel where you kissed her finger as if she touched a hot stove. Imagine a Luthor being this soft for someone. She can’t enjoy your touch. She’s not allowed to. Or at least, that’s what Lillian kept telling her. Luthors are cruel aren’t they? They are undeserving of love and care, so why should this be any different for Lena? Why does she have to feel so embarrassed about wanting your touch?

Following the papercut incident, Lena found herself exaggerating her headaches and migraines from working constantly at L-Corp just so you could take care of her and cuddle the pain away. This went on for a few weeks and eventually you caught onto what she was trying to do. You realized that early on in the relationship, you always initiated physical contact with Lena and in those moments, she would tense up, making you think that she was uncomfortable with it. Later on, you learned that Lena is trying to get used to receiving so much physical love because it’s still new to her. So, you began to give it to her in small doses whether it was hand holding or pecks on the cheek before you left the apartment. Now, you see that Lena wants more but she’s either too afraid or too embarrassed to ask for it. 

Looking down at the CEO that’s currently in your arms, you quietly laugh at the realization and almost find it endearing. You tuck that thought into the back of your mind as you readjust your position on the couch and tighten your hold on Lena. She snuggles a bit deeper into your chest as your focus falls back onto the movie playing on the TV. Maybe, it’s okay to let herself relish your touch as long as you were hers. After all, the Luthor name is simply a name, not a rule for her to follow.

A few days later, you find yourself heading back to your shared apartment where Lena is currently resting. According to Jess, she wasn’t feeling well and decided to take the rest of the day off to ensure that she could recover and work more efficiently tomorrow. It became a normal occurrence for Jess to call you whenever Lena was unwell so that you could take care of her. Upon arriving at the apartment, you find the raven-haired woman curled up in bed. At the sound of the bedroom door opening, she immediately sits up as her eyes light up when they lock with yours. You send her a loving smile as you say, “Lena, I want you to be honest with me.”

Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, Lena simply answers, “Okay…”

“Are you actually feeling unwell or is this an excuse to have me take care of you?”

The moment the question leaves your mouth, Lena’s eyes widen. Shit. Unsure of what to do as you watch Lena try to formulate a response, you decide to turn around and head to the kitchen to start preparing for dinner. As you’re about to leave, Lena desperately calls out, “Y/N, wait!”

Pausing, you turn back around and tilt your head, expecting a response. As she slowly begins to speak, Lena breaks eye contact in favor of tracing the patterns of the bedsheets with her eyes.

“I-, um, yeah, it was an excuse and I’m really sorry for disturbing you while you were at work for this.”

Watching as Lena slumps over in shame, you make your way to the bed and sit down next to her. Quietly waiting for her to continue and give you a reason, an awkward silence fills the bedroom. You’re the first to break the silence.

“Lee, you know I love you right?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Okay, so then, why? Why did you feel the need to make excuses to get me to come?”

“Well, um…” Lena trails off while continuing to look at the bedsheets, trying to hide her embarrassment.

“Babe, if you don’t give me a reason then I’m not giving you any cuddles until you tell me.”

At your words, Lena’s head flies up, exposing her flustered state. 

“Wait, no, that’s not fair.” She whines as she tries to wrap her arms around you.

Laughing, you do your best to push her off. With a soft smile, you tell her, “I just want my girlfriend to communicate with me and if I have to revoke cuddling privileges to get you to communicate then I’m going to do it.”

Lena lets out a sigh as she realizes that you’re going to stick to your words and she loves your touch too much to lose it over her slight issue with communicating properly in relationships. Readying herself, she allows the Luthor mindset to slip away from her mind as she opens up to you.

“I really like your touch and I was just afraid of how much I liked it because I wasn’t sure if I deserved it. When I was young, I was always told that Luthors don’t deserve love or care because of our cold nature. But the way you hold me made me melt and I felt tingly all over.” quickly adding in, “In a good way, I promise!”. She takes a deep breath before continuing, “I guess I just felt embarrassed of how strongly I wanted physical contact with you because I wasn’t sure if you would give that much to me. In the back of my mind, I thought that you were giving me all of this physical affection because you felt obligated to and not out of love.”

Taking in her words, your expression begins to soften as you pull Lena into your arms. Your fingers slowly trace random patterns into her back as you begin to speak.

“Oh, Lena, sweetheart. I love you so so much. I’m so sorry that you felt undeserving of this love and attention but I can definitely assure you that you deserve it all and so much more. You are so kind and you are everything that the Luthor name isn’t. You’ve worked so hard at L-Corp and trying to rebrand it as a company for good instead of how it was made before you.” Pulling away, you cup her face in your hands. “I promise that all of the affection that I freely give to you is out of love and not obligation. I will do everything I can to give you all of the love that you deserve. If you ever want cuddles, just ask okay? I’m definitely more than happy to cuddle you whenever you want.” 

With your final statement, you seal your promises to Lena with a soft kiss. You pull away from her to see her eyes brimming with tears. She simply nods at your words and you pull her into your chest once again. Lena has never felt so loved in her whole life. You practically radiate love and warmth that she will gladly receive without feeling as embarrassed now. Letting out a sigh of relief, Lena feels lighter now that she was able to open up to you. Before fully settling into your embrace, Lena asks one more question.

“So, does this mean I get my cuddling privileges back?”

Feeling the vibrations in your chest as you laugh, Lena smiles as you reply, “Yes, your cuddling privileges are no longer revoked and you can now ask for them whenever you want. Just promise that you won’t make any more excuses, alright?”

“I promise.”

taglist (all): @teenwonder @procrastinatingsapphictrash  @owloftheshadows