#we get to throw away the mask together and invent a whole new language of love

[firefly-fez]

what no one tells you about autism is that befriending a new autistic person is a process of learning their own unique language of love. are they comfortable with eye contact? physical touch? hugs or no hugs? special interest? what textures do they like? should we converse about the special interest or just spend some time with limited conversation just vibing in each other’s company? for neurotypicals there’s like this boring standardized List of Rules that you Have to Follow Or Else! but for my autistic friends out there the rules don’t apply!! they way they connect is each so unique and personal to them that the discovery of getting to know a new person ceases to be this laborious task of following Social Rules until you get comfortable enough to do away with them, but with autistic ppl you get to throw away the stupid rule book right from the get go and embark on a personal adventure of friendship anew, like there’s a secret language you’re uncovering and evey time you successfully connect you feel that magic of blossoming friendship tenfold. shoutout to all my autistic homies out there, you’re not weird, you’re not a burden, there’s nothing wrong with the way that you specifically connect with others and actually i have decided that it is beautiful ✨ ✨

what no one tells you about being autistic is people just don’t like you. maybe you make friends, but they get tired of you fast. even if you’re not actively bullied, your peers just…. don’t pay attention to you. something about you is offputting and weird to mostly everyone, and you literally cannot stop it no matter how hard you try.

[sanjisock]

more than words

50 words; 50 sentences

ao3

#01 - Motion

A spinning kick, a swing of blade — the two meet and hit but don’t hurt, and Nami sighs exasperatedly at such a pathetic display of a mating dance.

#02 - Cool

Zoro stands his ground as his enemy — finally, finally — falls unceremoniously on his back, unconscious, and Sanji thinks for a moment that the sight of Zoro — wild and victorious and ready to take on the world — looks kind of, maybe, slightly cool.

  #03 - Young

Brook sees the two — dying to die for each other, the weight of their friends’ lives pulling down their shoulders — and he thinks too many people forget how young they still are.

  #04 - Last

The Cook is the last person Zoro would consider lending a hand in a fight — “who would want to work together with that dumbass anyway,” he lies whenever anyone asks, and doesn’t admit that it’s because he trusts Sanji’s ability to stand his ground, wholly and fully.

  #05 - Wrong

Sanji knows Zoro, like him, understands better than most — that this nakama thing isn’t just something you’d die for, but something you’d kill for, too.

  #06 - Gentle

Sanji manages to catch Kitetsu before it rolls off from the deck during a storm, and in that moment, Zoro knows, from the reverent way he regards the swords in his hands, that this isn’t the first time the Cook has wielded one.

  #07 - One

“Calm down, Marimo,” Sanji says with a dismissive wave of his hand when Zoro asks about the sword a few days later, “I’m not about to take your place as the ship’s swordsman; a cook doesn’t use his hands to fight, and I had a terrible teacher anyways.”

  #08 - Thousand

“I’m worth two thousand men,” Zoro grumpily says, almost sulking, and Nami can’t resist patting his head like she would to a little boy pulling the pigtail of a girl he has a crush on.

  #09 - King

You’re like the prince of Dumbass Kingdom, Zoro says, and it takes Sanji everything in him not to blurt out, Dumbass Kingdom sounds about right; wait ‘till you see the fucking king.

  #10 - Learn

Watching Sanji converse fluently with a couple of tourists in a Northern language, Zoro wonders when he will ever stop learning something new about Sanji — or if he ever will, at all.

  #11 - Blur

When Zoro finally comes to, the wounds from Bartholomeow Kuma is muted by Chopper’s medicine, a dull throb at the back of his consciousness; but the sharp pain against his heart feels raw still, visceral and razor-sharp, tucked alongside the ache of Sanji’s sacrifice.

#12 - Wait

“Wait,” he manages to croak out before Sanji flees the room, the word spilling out unbidden; he isn’t quite sure why, but he knows that he wants the Cook to stay.

  #13 - Change

“Have some fucking decency ,” Sanji yells, throwing a shirt at Zoro’s direction; the brute has been walking around the ship bare-chested like an eyesore ever since they entered the summer island, and Sanji is just trying to do everyone a favor — and definitely not because there’s a different kind of heat pooling at the pit of his stomach.

#14 - Command

Robin watches the two in amusement — Zoro could have easily refused to be Sanji’s pack mule, and she can hear him grumbling about it still; and yet, here they are, once again, together at the island’s marketplace.

#15 - Hold

Sanji is rough around the edges, bristling at the slightest touch; Zoro knows he needs to be gentle, but he doesn’t quite remember the last time he held something that isn’t a hilt of a sword, without meaning to hurt . It’s a learning curve. 

  #16 - Need

Sanji knows Zoro is a dumbass, but it takes a special kind of stupid to think he would never be good enough for Sanji, when he’s all that Sanji has ever needed.

#17 - Vision

Zoro never regrets losing his eye, but he wishes, sometimes, he could still take in the sight of Sanji with an unimpaired vision, just to see more of him.

  #18 - Attention

“You’re starting a fight, Marimo?” Sanji growls, voice low and dangerous, and Zoro thinks, yes, yes, anything to get you to look at me.

  #19 - Soul

He loves the kid like a brother, but sometimes Zoro hates how Luffy can easily see past his gruff words and feigned ignorance; the way Luffy only needs to take one look at him to guess, “you’re worried about Sanji, aren’t you?”

  #20 - Picture

He carries around everyone’s bounty posters, Sanji tells himself, and tries not to think too hard about how the only one he kept in his breast pocket is Zoro’s, folded neatly against his heart.

  #21 - Fool

“This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done so far,” Sanji says when they part, lips still tingling from their earlier kiss, because Zoro’s love is fierce and consuming and Sanji knows, ever since he was just a kid with the iron mask, that he doesn’t deserve any of this.

  #22 - Mad

“Don’t you ever say that kind of shit again,” Zoro snarls, slamming the wall beside Sanji’s head, his voice trembling with a kind of anger Sanji has never seen him with before — frustrated, desperate. “You’re important to me, Cook.” 

  #23 - Child

Grow up and cast your dreams away, Sanji tells himself every day, the voice ringing in his ears; you stopped being a child deserving of a dream the moment you chained Zeff down to the ground.

  #24 - Now

Grow up and cast your dreams away, Sanji wants to tell himself, but the voice stutters, drowned out by the sight of the kid bleeding on the deck of Baratie — he’s a swordsman, too, acknowledged by none other than Dracule Mihawk himself — but a kid still, throwing himself headfirst towards the case of his dreams, steps unweighted by regrets.

  #25 - Shadow

Zoro doesn’t know which is worse — Sanji, forever running away from the shadow his brothers cast; or Zoro, chasing after someone who is no longer around to leave behind a shadow anymore.

  #26 - Goodbye

After Whole Cake Island, there’s a period of time where Zoro would follow Sanji around the ship like a lost puppy, unwilling to let the Cook out of his sight; Usopp definitely didn’t expect Zoro to have such a cute side, and crouches over his new invention to hide his smile.

  #27 - Hide

“We’re not doing that here,” Sanji hisses, and forces himself not to laugh at the pout on Zoro’s face; the galley might be secluded enough, but they’re still on the enemy ship’s galley.

  #28 - Fortune

It is annoying, the way Sanji keeps reminding Zoro that he could have collected Mihawk’s bounty and lived the rest of his life in wealth; especially when Zoro would trade any riches in the world just to stay by the Cook’s side.

  #29 - Safe

It catches Zoro off guard when Sanji starts talking about his mother; it’s a short anecdote, a single happy memory, but Zoro can tell by the way Sanji tells it — guarded and hesitant, like he wants to keep the words close and safe — that he has never shared it with anyone else before.

  #30 - Ghost

Usopp starts shaking like a leaf as soon as they enter the abandoned, dilapidated house, and Sanji gently tells him, sometimes the worst ghost is the one you create yourself; Zoro feels the weight of Wado on his hip, and agrees.

  #31 - Book

“I don’t need this,” Zoro grumbles with a blush, pushing the book back into Nami’s hands, trying hard to ignore Nami’s laughter and the words ROMANCE FOR DUMMIES emblazoned on the book’s jacket.

  #32 - Eye

Shusui sinks into the man’s stomach, all the way to the hilt, and Zoro thinks of the way Sanji curled into himself as the man landed a lucky hit on the cook’s hand. An eye for an eye.

  #33 - Never

“This is my first time,” Zoro whispers, head ducking away as he feels his face flush at the admission; but Sanji’s hand rests on his cheek, encouraging, and he can feel the curve of Sanji’s smile as their lips meet and Sanji replies, “it’s mine, too.”

  #34 - Sing

Luffy cheers when Zoro and Sanji comes into view, and he lets them take on the next batch of enemies; a good fight is always fun, but watching Zoro and Sanji fight is even more so — like watching a dance that only those two know the melody to.

  #35 - Sudden

“What, are we supposed to be surprised?” Nami says, barely looking up from the map she’s working on; Sanji sputters, face redder than the tomatoes he served during breakfast, and Nami feels almost bad for him.

  #36 - Stop

“But we — Zoro and I — how did you know?” Sanji asks, and promptly stops asking questions when he realizes the rest of the crew aren’t surprised either; who could blame them, when his and Zoro’s sexual tension can be seen from a mile away.

  #37 - Time

Sanji knows they have to break apart soon, just to breathe, but right now all he cares about is to taste as much of Zoro as possible — he has waited two years for this, and it has been two years too long.

  #38 - Wash

They have their fair share of fighting — and how, considering the amount of repairs Usopp has to do for Merry just from their petty fights alone — but what the crew doesn’t know is that they also have this thing, this quiet thing, just him and the Cook and a stack of dirty plates between them.

  #39 - Torn

“In retrospect,” Robin observes, “dressing up our dear cook in a maid uniform would not only lower the enemy’s firepower, but also ours, considering how distracted our swordsman has clearly become.”

  #40 - History

“Why do you keep him around, mister?” The kid asks, pointing at the old swordsman with three swords and an eye scar by the peer; Sanji laughs, pats the kid on the head, and says, almost wistfully — “you can say we have some history.”

  #41 - Power

Sanji tugs at Zoro’s sleeve, and Zoro follows suit despite his complaints — Sanji thinks, distantly, how much of an honor it is, to have so much control over such a powerful man.

  #42 - Bother

“I didn’t have enough time to make this three-tier ice cream cake for our lovely Nami-san and Robin-chan because you distracted me!” Sanji says with a hard jab of a finger against Zoro’s chest, and Zoro thinks, good .

  #43 - God

Zoro does not believe in gods, but there’s a hymn of a noise when Zoro presses his lips against the crook of Sanji’s neck, the hallelujah of the world breaking apart as their bodies move together, and he thinks, close enough .

  #44 - Wall

 Zoro slams his fist into the wall of Polar Tang, and is taken aback by the depth of his own frustration; he knows Luffy and the others will get Sanji back from Big Mom’s place, but it unsettles him still, the way Sanji hides himself under layers of pretenses when Zoro has bared so much of himself to the Cook in return.

  #45 - Naked

“What the fuck was that for , Mosshead?!” Sanji shrieks, justifiably furious, leg raised and on fire after Zoro sliced his tray into two without preamble; Zoro can’t exactly tell the Cook he did it because he was too surprised at the sight of Sanji in a swimming trunk and nothing else.

  #46 - Drive

Why Zoro , people sometimes ask, but the answer is easy to Sanji — nobody drives him crazy the way Zoro does, and is that not what true love feels like?

  #47 - Harm

Zoro knows Sanji will be furious ; but as he faces Kuma, knowing at least the Cook is out of harm’s way, he knows he would do this a hundred times over, a thousand times over, a million times over.

  #48 - Precious

Sanji is sitting by the corner of the infirmary, face pale with red-rimmed eyes, and Zoro thinks he’s never had that, before — people who would weep for him, knowing that he is more than dried scars and calloused skin.

  #49 - Hunger

This thing we have is dangerous, Sanji tells him, but Zoro doesn’t care — he already has a craving, the same way he needs a booze when it’s been too long, except he thinks that this vice will surely kill him.

  #50 - Believe

This isn’t faith; this is the truth, Zoro’s truth, the same way he knows he will become the Greatest — Sanji will find that elusive sea of his, and Zoro will stay with him until it is the last thing he can do.

[honeysucklepink]

Side Effects May Include

Summary: Five times Kurt took Ambien (and the resulting stories his friends tell), and one time he didn’t need to. A Klaine Advent 2018 adventure!

Another 180 after that Finn-related chapter; who wants a teaspoon of smut?

Also on AO3 (link goes to beginning)

Part 1 (Athlete, Bury, Camera, Deputy): Rachel’s Story

Part 2 (Exclude, Feed, Gradual, House + bonus Candle, Ribbon, Light): Santana’s Story

Part 3 (Incident, Joke, Kidnap, Language + bonus Cinnamon, Star, Eggnog): Sam’s Story

Part 4 (Momentum, Negligence, Orange, Pledge + bonus Festival, Ornament): Mercedes’s Story

Once the group hug broke up, Unique declared that “there were gonna be no more tears for New Directions, okay? Oh, Marley we need to do that as a duet next year!”

“If we have a next year,” Marley said. “But I’d be happy to be Barbra to your Donna anytime, glee club or no.”

“I feel awful for you guys,” said Tina. “I mean, for us seniors it was all going to be over anyway. We’re not really losing anything.” It was then she looked over at Mercedes. “You’ve been quiet.”

Mercedes sighed, and was nearly blushing. “I was just thinking about the current topic. Ever since Santana’s story, well it sort of triggered a memory that I really wanted to forget and now I can’t get it out of my head.” She shifted in her seat in discomfort. “I don’t wanna say it, but at the same time...you know how you get an earworm song stuck in your head, and the only way to get rid of it is to sing the whole thing?”

Kurt didn’t like the sound of that. “Um, Mercedes, what are you talking about?”

“Oh no, I wanna hear this!” Santana was downright giddy.

Mercedes looked at Kurt. “It was when your dad got the all-clear, during Stevie Wonder week. Remember all the drama I was having with my record label?”

“I know it had to be hard to cancel your contract, but I’m still proud of you, for sticking to your guns.” Kurt said, his arm wrapped supportively around Mercedes’ shoulders. “We should celebrate!”

“You want to celebrate me possibly throwing away my future?”

“Don’t think of it like that. This isn’t throwing anything away, it’s...the first step for the real Mercedes Jones to shine, not some record label’s invention. And each step from here on out will propel you into that forward momentum,  until you have a row of Grammys on your shelf.”

“So, for this celebration, what are we talking? Please don’t say Breadstix…”

“I was thinking more like a good old fashioned sleepover. We’ll have popcorn, and do pedicures and facials, and we’ll watch the Atlanta Housewives reunion on Bravo and watch Andy Cohen squirm. How does that sound?”

“What about Blaine?”

“What about him? We’re not back together or anything.”

“And you weren’t back together at Mr. Schue’s non-wedding either and we know what happened then. I’ve seen you looking at him all longingly. You don’t want to spend some time with him before going back to New York?”

Kurt sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. “Mercedes, I’m not going to lie. My head says not to do it again, but my heart wants what it wants. Look, I know how you feel about sex and relationships and how they are tied. Blaine and I are...complicated, right now.”

“Well, complicated or not, you’re going to have to make a decision soon, If not for your sake at least for his.”

“How did I get such a smart, wise beautiful friend?” Kurt said. “Look, I solemnly pledge that by the end of the month, I’ll make a decision about me and Blaine. Happy?” Mercedes nodded. “Good. Now tell me what kind of masks I need to make for tonight...are we going with toning, pore-reducing, or deep moisture?”

That evening, Mercedes showed up at the Hudmels door right on time; she had her mani-pedi kit with the newest festival -themed OPI collection, along with snacks and her overnight bag. Her phone had been buzzing with unanswered texts from her old management asking her to reconsider, but she was dutifully ignoring them. She would probably block their numbers in the morning.

The door was unlocked, so she let herself in, simply assuming either negligence or expectation on Kurt’s part. After all, Finn was back at the dorms, and she remembered something about Burt and Carole going to a celebratory dinner. The lights were on in the living room, and the Real Housewives looked to be queued up on the DVR.

It was then that she heard it; a thudding noise from upstairs. She hadn’t noticed any other cars in the driveway, and she did find it odd that the door had been left open for her. She hoped Kurt was okay; still, she picked up the first thing she thought could be used as a weapon (a “#1 Ohio State Fan” ornamental figurine), and went upstairs. She snuck down the hallway, where she saw Kurt’s door open.

When she poked her head in, her eyes just about popped out of her skull; she was ass-to-face with Blaine’s bare behind (she knew it was Blaine from the heavily gelled-head). He had Kurt bent over the bed, pumping away, while Kurt’s hands twisted in the bed sheets above his head and he pressed his face into a pillow. At one point he turned his head to breathe (away from Mercedes, thank the Lord). “Oh God, Blaine! Keep fucking me like that, keep fucking my ass…”

“Fuck, Kurt, you’re so tight, God it’s so good!” Kurt appeared to reach underneath himself to...oh Lord she couldn’t watch this. She ran out, still hearing their voices fade the further she got. “Fuck keep going Blaine, I’m gonna cum, gonna...oh God, yes! ”

She quickly ran back down the stairs, finally noticing the orange and white polo on the floor that should have been her first clue, and exited the house. It was only then she finally checked her phone and read two missed texts from Kurt:

Hey, silly me took an Ambien right after putting on my PJs!

Force of habit, will be down for the night, have to cancel, sorry!

Mercedes mumbled to herself, “Yeah, you were getting down all right.”

[pendragonfics]

A Frown a Day Keeps the Christmas Cheer at Bay

Paring: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Tags: female reader, set after Captain America: Civil War, Christmas, advent calendars, Bucky Barnes returns, Bucky Barnes Remembers, fluff, crack, Christmas fluff, ugly holiday sweaters, mutant powers (but not really?? it was more like a freak accident sort of superpower-inheriting situation).

Summary: Reader just really wanted to join the Avengers. And then she really just wanted to be friends with Bucky. With all the Christmas that's going around, maybe her wish came true...

Word Count: 2,087

Posting Date:  2016-12-08

Current Date: 2017-05-31

For as long as you could remember, you'd wanted to make a difference in the world. That had been a normal idea, before you had gotten into a car accident with your sister, Jess, and adopted out into a home where you were the freak of the family, and subsequently, weren't allowed to reach out to your sister. Perhaps being able to move things without touching them was a little too much for the small suburban home of the Dersluy's, and you held your abilities at bay in order to keep a sort of peace under their roof.

Now, at twenty, you're out and free, and still wanting to do the same thing you'd wanted as a kid; to do good, to make a difference in the world. Except, now there had been an alien invasion in New York City, and the Fantastic Four had decimated a small town and there was the whole thing where the Avengers had actually been a superhero team, and then as soon as they were together, there was the rift, and end of the team.

But that wouldn't stop you from joining them. It's how you found yourself on the bus out of Hell's Kitchen, hitchhiking, catching a handful of trains and walking to the facility you'd heard rumours of in upstate New York. It's also how you found yourself knocking on the door, and waiting for the figure of Tony Stark himself to open the entrance.

"We're not a bed and breakfast, kid," he ran a hand over his beard, and squinting his eyes, he began to close the door. At once, you felt it; the need to use your abilities. There was no way you went this far out of your way to be rejected by Iron Man himself. With just a flick of your wrist, the door stilled, and with not a tug more he couldn't shut the door. "Uh, I think you got the wrong big building. X Mansion is that way," he pointed over your head.

You shake your head. "I'm here to join the Avengers. I can't sit around watching my city turn to shit and people in masks without agendas try and hold the world on their shoulders." You fish into your pocket, and show him your I.D. "I'm _______ Jones. I'm not a mutant, and I'm not letting a pompous arsehole like yourself stop me." You push past him, eyes taking in the facility's high walls and glass displays of many trophies and things collected.

"You're determined, I'll take that," Tony's door clicks behind him, your telekinesis is weakened at your distraction of being in the place you'd dreamed about ever since you'd been a teenager. "But the boy band is broken up. Everyone's gone their ways -,"

You shake your head. "I've done my research. Dr. Banner is working in Haiti, Ms. Romanov in Germany, the archer's in his home, with his family." You shoot back, ignoring the shock on Mr. Stark's face. "Vision is in this facility here today, and Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes are one state over with Miss Maximoff."

The Iron Man's eyes widen like he's just heard the impossible. "That's classified information -,"

You nod. "I can read minds easier than moving things outside my body, Mr. Stark," you interrupt, facing him. "You need to call the team back together. I don't care how many broken hearts and shields there are, but there needs to be a team. We're a planet without heroes, we need defending."

The AI speaks up, a female voice intoning before she is instructed to, "I shall have all of the Avenger I.D. holders contacted to arrive here within forty-eight hours," she tells Tony, and adds, "_______ Jones makes a good point, sir."

He grumbles under his breath. "Fine. But I'm not making eye contact with Barnes until he apologises for what he's done."

But he makes eye contact with him as soon as the car arrives with the two beefy guys you'd seen on social media, and the waif-like Scarlet Witch who seems both warily skirting away from Vision and wanted to draw nearer to him. Tony Stark seems oblivious to it all, especially when the spies arrive; Clint has a tan and Nat is grumbling in a new language she picked up on her flight, pointedly ignoring everyone by playing with a gameboy. But it's your stubbornness that brings them all together; it's the trademark stubbornness of the Jones' who reunites the Avengers and, ultimately, earns you a place at their table. 

---

It's Christmastime before you know it, and while everyone is just working out and being generally superheroes, you find yourself on recuperation after a mission gone slightly south (someone from something called IGH broke your arm slightly) alongside Sergeant Bucky Barnes himself. After some Googling, a few talks with Steve Rogers (and his permission for you to read his memories of the old Bucky) you had to say that the man you were sitting beside playing Call of Duty wasn't too much of a different guy to what everyone said he was. He was still the ladies man, but quieter. He was still snarky, but only to those he trusted. And, he was a huge science geek, and you knew he freaked out every time he saw a new invention like a true fanboy.

"It's snowing outside," you comment, trying to reach under your cast to itch the skin. But, no avail.

All your words do is make Bucky pause the game, and glance to the big window that's adjacent to the television. After the trouble that he and everyone had been through, Bucky had a new arm attached, but from what you gathered, it wasn't as great as whatever technology he had before. He nods, placing the controller beside his knee, and goes to stand. "Whenever it snowed back in Brooklyn, I'd make Steve wear all his clothes, and we'd go out to make snow people." He shares without a thought.

You raise an eyebrow. "Sounds cool, dude. Want to go out and build one?" you ask him.

He shakes his head, and stretches his back, a cracking noise coming from within. "I'm an old man, ________, the wind goes straight through me," he deadpans, facing you with a smirk on his face. You couldn't help but grin back, all the more amused by his black humour, his dry wit. You weren't sure how it was, but out of all the people at the Avengers facility, he chose to be your friend as well as Steve's.

And it felt good to have a friend.

---

"I'm going to the store, we need to stock up before Christmas," Clint announces one day. He's made it clear that he is not staying around for Christmas, thank you very much, he has his baby's first Christmas to celebrate, and he's very into Laura, and prefers to see her face over any of our ugly mugs. But, by this claim he makes, you find it hard to believe he isn't going to try and sneak a whole roast turkey home to his family just because he can.

You grab the keys for the team van from his hands using your abilities, and motion for him to follow. "I'm driving. I'm clean out of dry shampoo, and I can't look like more of a mess that I am when this bad boy is broken," you gesture to your arm.

There's a wrestle within your palm, and the keys are out of your fingers by the familiar cold metal ones of your friend Bucky. "You can't drive with one hand, and Clint either drives like my mother or he's panicking because he has a dead body in the back seat." His voice is monotonous, his intimidating murder-walk leading the way to the van.

You glance to Clint, giving him a rueful smile. "Hey, at least you've got another pair of hands to carry the shopping in with, yeah?"

Clint stocked up on all the things everyone needed; whiskey and assortments of puddings, a turkey to roast and many other things. But it was on the confectionary isle when Bucky stood still.

"What's up, Buck?" You stood beside him, trying to figure out what had struck him dumb. On the shelf before him was a stack of advent calendars, each with a different picture to do with Christmas. "You okay?"

He points to the calendar. "Are those the ones with windows with chocolate in them?" He asks you, releasing the frosty the snowman decal from his pensive stare.

You nod. "Yeah, advent calendars. You had them back in the forties?"

Silently, Bucky nods. "Stevie was going through a rough time, after his mom died. I found the pennies to buy one for him, but he insisted we shared it." He smiled at the memory, his lips nearly hidden under the whiskers  he'd allowed to grow. "I'm buying one for Steve."

You grab three from the shelf. "And I'll get one for you, and me. It's no fun watching the two hot super soldiers have chocolate without me." You state, throwing them into Clint's trolley. 

---

On Christmas Eve, Tony pushes Clint out the door - sending his love to Laura, and season's greetings - and serves everyone eggnog spiked with enough whiskey to make everyone grow a Stark beard themselves. Bucky seems to be already in the motion of keeping his beard, the hairs scruffier than ever when he's stuffed into an ugly sweater Natasha had brought him from Germany, knitted by someone who liked the pattern of white bunnies on the red snow. Under the sleeve, his arm looks normal enough. 

Your're in Nat's ugly sweater, as it fits almost like she knew all your sizes and things before even meeting you. The pattern is of white stags in a mandala formation on a green background ... whoever knitted it probably had too much German lager to drink. But it's nice, and for a moment, where from the corner of your eye, you see it all. Steve is settling beside Tony, and they aren't slapping each other like teenagers. Wanda's hand is encased by Visions, silently sitting before the fire content in each other's company. Nat has a too-large t-shirt with the picture of mistletoe and the words kiss me if you don't want to keep your face written underneath. And you're sitting beside Bucky Barnes. The guy you rooted for ever since you saw him on the news when Nat cleared the name of S. H. I. E. L. D after the information dump. Perhaps the cutest soldier you'd ever met. 

"You're frowning," he nudges you in the side, jolting you from the daydreams. "My Ma used to say something about being off in your head at Christmastime..." he muses.

You can't help but wonder what Mrs. Barnes had said, and without thinking, you settle your head onto his lap like you're a married couple or in a romantic novel like Pride and Prejudice and not the real world where he was a brainwashed assassin and you were a young girl separated from your superhero twin after the death of your family. 

"Tell me, Bucky," you drawl, trying your best to sound like Elizabeth Bennett. 

He stroke the hair that had fallen into your eyes aside, and leaning down, murmurs into your ear, "A frown a day keeps the Christmas cheer at bay," his voice is soft, breath hot and perfumed by alcohol he can't be intoxicated with. "It's just a silly saying..."

You shake your head, and before he straightens his back, you grab his face, and pull him down onto yours, connecting your lips onto his. The scruff around his face is not harsh and needle-like, but soft, and smells of sandalwood and hotel soap. Before you know it, he's kissing back, and the Avengers around you are ooing, and cooing, and someone's taken a photograph of the two of you on the sofa. 

"I wasn't sure how to ask you to kiss me, but if that's how, I'll be reciting my Ma's things all the time," he grins, voice a whisper as he breaks away. 

You beam. "Sure thing, Sergeant."

Maybe you had always thought that you would make a difference in the world. But from that day on, from the sparkle in his eyes, the life in his voice, the way Bucky Barnes looked at you, at the world; you knew you sure as sweet Christmas that you'd made a difference in his world.

[tom567855-blog]

Greek Tragedy Blog (12/1/17)

Firstly, my initial feelings on this session were mixed. I was looking forward to learning this style of Greek Tragedy as I had never really done this before so it was a learning experience for me. But I also had thoughts that this is something that I may not really enjoy doing very much and would be something I can’t really get into doing very easily.

Greek Tragedy requires a lot of working together as an acting company. The chorus in Greek Tragedy is a key part of the whole performance style. The chorus has to work together to react at the same time and react in the same way (if they all react the same). This can be very tricky to synchronise if group members don’t get along with each other very well or the chorus is under-rehearsed. The chorus is always on the stage in Greek Theatre and they are always watching the scene that is happening in front of them. The audience can see the scene and the chorus. While the characters in the scene can’t see the chorus. So the audience is an audience to the chorus and scene; and the chorus is audience to the scene. The chorus reacts to the scene as it is happening through their gestures and voice, such as anger, sadness or joy.

To get us all working together we did group exercises. Firstly, we warmed up our bodies and voices in a short warm up; then we moved onto group exercises such as walking around the space and sensing the speed that everybody is walking at and trying to speed up or slow down matching that speed. Then eventually, we will all completely stop – we did this exercise without having a “leader” so that this was natural and we weren’t following a specific person, we were following everybody. We also did an exercise where we had to mirror a partner, one person would lead and do something like raise an arm but the aim was to do this at the same time so you couldn’t tell who was leading. We did this same exercise in bigger groups. I found that doing actions slower and repeating them made this much easier to do. The third exercise was one where we had to all walk onto the stage at the same time then perform our “famous” clapping routine all at the same time without any forward planning. This was fairly easy to do once we all got into the rhythm of the clapping. The purposes of these exercises was to get us all working together and watching closely what everybody else in the chorus is doing so that we all do the same thing at the same time; this is an important thing for a Greek chorus, they have to move all in unison. These are things that we need to incorporate into our Greek Tragedy performance to make a successful chorus.

Furthermore, after the exercises we read through the script, Electra. We divided the group into 2 smaller groups and worked on two scenes of the play. My group worked on the first scene which sets the scene. This involves a tutor (me) who tells Orestes (whom he brought up to manhood) that he is to avenge his father’s death and has to kill his mother and her new boyfriend who had killed him. They killed him because he sacrificed their daughter to get safe passage to Troy. Electra’s side is that he had no choice and had to sacrifice one of his own because he had killed a stag which belonged to the Gods and he had to pay the price even though he didn’t want to. Her mother’s side is that he had no right sacrificing her when it should have been somebody else’s family who needed to go to Troy to rescue someone in the first place. A lot of the dialogue is between Electra and her mother which meant that the chorus had to find lines to react to otherwise they would be standing there doing nothing until they have a line. The chorus is always on stage so they always have to be in character and doing something. So we went through the script and marked points where we could react and what the reaction is. This was quite tricky putting it into practise because we hadn’t thought about exactly how we would all react and would do it on the spot rather than rehearse it. We worked on blocking this scene; we had finished most of the blocking during this lesson. Next time we had to finish bits off ready to be performed. For example, we worked out what the chorus would be doing while the tutor is setting the scene for the performance. These movements are in beats of 4 and are repeated over and over, one movement per beat. Slow motions and changes in pace are very effective as well. We did an exercise where we tried this out. We did a little kitchen scene where we all are making food in the kitchen and then the manager enters the kitchen which we all hate and we all scowl at them. Then after they shout at a certain kitchen worker they walk away and then that worker steps out of the rhythm while the rest continue and pick up an egg and look at it. They then throw the egg, the moment the egg leaves their hand the pace is now in slow-motion and all of the workers are reacting to egg and trying to stop it. Then just as it hits the manager, time goes back to normal but we are all doing our movements at a faster pace and quicker beats. This was very effective and used many advanced techniques.

Gestures have to be much bigger because the actors had to wear masks that covered their entire faces. The masks had exaggerated facial expressions on them so audience members from far away could see them more easily. As a result, the actor’s facial expressions are useless so they have to focus on physical movements and gestures to get their message across. The language is also similar to Shakespeare’s language and can be tricky to follow. This meant that gestures had to get across the meaning and plot of the performance so they were very important so that the audience could follow and understand the performance. Levels as a result needed to be much higher so that the message could easily get across to all members of the audience. Wearing these masks is very hard, just like Commedia Dell’Arte masks. They block a lot of your vision and you can only see forwards; you have to be very aware of your surroundings and you can’t look around to see what people are doing otherwise you break character and you look unprofessional, so practise was very important so that everybody knew what they were doing and where people should be. I personally found it very difficult wearing these masks and I would definitely have to take some time to get used to it.

Moreover, I felt that I was professional in these lessons. I was on time for these lessons and arrived with the right equipment: I wore my black clothing to act in, pens and paper to make notes and with my annotated script. I helped out other people and my group as much as I could and contributed any ideas I thought that would be helpful. I also helped the group decide on what ideas we should use for the performance piece.

In terms of strengths, I found that I was good at projecting my voice and being clear (diction). I received feedback saying that my projection was good and could easily be understood. This is positive and this is something that I will need to maintain for the performance. I also found that I was good at learning my blocking for the scenes. This is something that stuck in my head really quickly and was very easy to learn for me. I don’t think I will have any problems for the workshop performance in terms of remembering my blocking and how to move on stage. My third main strength was that I was good at focussing and listening to other people’s opinions and points of view on the performance. I never ignored anybody and allowed everybody to have their equal and respectable say.

Finally, in contrast, there are many areas that I need to improve upon ready for the final workshop performance. The first thing I need to do is learn my lines. For the tutor I need to learn my lines; this is an important character because the tutor sets the scene for the whole performance and gives the audience a setting and plot to follow. It is important I get this key information across. I will learn these lines in-between sessions ready for the performance. Next, the second area for improvement would be to work more on my characterisation. I need to get a thorough understanding of my character’s thoughts, feelings and personality. At the moment, the characters feels very hollow to me and I need to work more on the characterisation so I can become that character more easily and deliver his lines and movements just how that character would. This is something I will work on in-between sessions. I will do this by inventing a background and personality that would suit this character. My final area for improvement would be to work more on my reactions as part of the chorus. I know when the chorus should react to the scene on stage and how they should react but I don’t know exactly how to portray this. Like for anger, I don’t know what gestures or actions I could do to get this across. I will come up with a couple of different gestures and actions that I could do to express each emotion that I need to get across in that scene such as anger, shock and joy. That way, it makes it a lot easier for me to react to what is happening on the stage and if I need to improvise reactions then I know various gestures I could use to help my improvised reactions.