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#it's getting dyed different on thurs
troglobite · 9 months
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lkjaflksdj
i'm in an anxiety spiral and i'm legitimately terrified now. fun.
so had an arachnophobia thing today. do not talk to me abt it.
and now i'm sitting here and i was abt to go to sleep.
and i've just been ignoring the fact that my nose has been congested for hours. bc i've been. too tired to bother. i haven't wanted to.
i finally take care of it. take the extra benadryl. i get up, i change my shirt (unrelated) and i lay back down.
and i realize my face is hot. like a little feverish hot.
and now i'm overthinking how weird my chest felt today.
bc i'm like "i talked myself hoarse on thurs, that's all"
but now i'm worried i have covid
bc of the congestion, the fever/face hotness, the tiredness, the chest weirdness
and like yes i have an autoimmune condition that i still have not had diagnosed (i have other shit going on, i'm tired and scared, i simply have too many hoops to jump through)
yes i have flareups
but this feels different
and now i'm not going to be able to sleep
and i have therapy in 6.5 hrs
and i'm going to have to take a covid test tomorrow bc i can't fucking handle doing one rn
and i'm just.
like.
so i leave the house ONCE. i have a NICE TIME. i get EXCITED abt something.
and now what, i'm either having a terrible flare up or i fucking have covid.
WHY.
I WOULD JUST LIKE TO HAVE A NICE DAY SOMETIMES WITHOUT HAVING TO DEAL WITH UNPREDICTABLE AND FUCKING MISERABLE CONSEQUENCES AND WORRYING THAT I'M FUCKING DYING
it would be fucking GREAT if the fucking government could decide to give a SINGLE FUCKING FLYING SHIT abt EVERYBODY and DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE FUCKING PANDEMIC so we could MOVE ON WITH OUR FUCKING LIVES
because i'm tired of this
i'm spiraling and i'm fucking tired of this.
i'm tired of being scared and helpless and depressed
i'm tired of not being able to plan for anything in my life
bc it's just this PIT of "okay what illness do i have. how serious is it. am i fucking dying."
and our house is all fucked up bc of the floor thing
we have to pack and move out for 2 weeks for them to take care of it
there are spiders EVERYWHERE bc of this FUCKING MISERABLE FUCKING VALLEY
i just wanna move. i wanna get a job. i want friends who actually want to play dnd with me. i want to not have to be the only one reaching out all the fucking time. i want to not be sick.
i want to move somewhere else and have some of my symptoms go the fuck away.
i want to not have to jump through 50000 hoops to get access to a doctor who will then spend AGES diagnosing me.
i would like to go more than half a day without having a fucking health scare.
I HAVE OCD.
I AM NOT BUILT TO FUCKING HAVE HEALTH PROBLEMS.
I AM NOT BUILT TO WITHSTAND A PANDEMIC WHERE NOBODY ELSE GIVES A FLYING FUCKING SHIT ABOUT THE FUCKING PANDEMIC
i can't do this anymore. i really, really can't.
i'm so fucking angry.
i stg i better not fucking have covid or i just might legitimately give the fuck up.
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networksupported · 2 years
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"Cas." Bradley says and his voice gets a twinge of annoyance. "Cas I am in so much pain and I just- I just want to curl up somewhere dark and quiet."
He gets up shakily, his whole body shivering with the effort. There are tears running down his face, even with his change of tone his eyes are still frantic, they're screaming at him. Was he also scared of death? Did it hurt more than he lets on? But then his gaze turns away.
"I- I'm sorry." He says again quietly. "I can't be around you anymore. I just want some quiet. If- if I restart, I'll be back. If not….I guess it was nice knowing you? Was it? I don't know, it's not like we got along much."
> we didn't?
[cas murmurs, voice soft.]
[OF COURSE YOU DIDN'T GET ALONG, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.
the maybe-vir part of his thoughts retort.
HE'S DYING AND YOU'RE WORRIED ABOUT HIS OPINION OF YOU? HOW CAN YOU BE THAT SELFISH? NO WONDER WHY HE HATES YOU.]
[cas has to admit it has a point.]
[to tell the truth, he hadn't even really meant to say that. it just seemed every part of his body was working completely out of sync with all the others- his mouth was reacting far more differently than his head wanted, his mind was still caught up in the intensity of bradley's gaze, and the rest of him seemed to have taken an executive decision and just frozen on him entirely.]
[OH, YEAH? WELL, IMAGINE HOW HE FEELS.]
[unfortunately, this was also an amazing point.]
> no, i-- i didn't mean that. i understand.
> but the reset'll- work, right? it'll be okay? should i check with a narrator or something? thurs might know, mightn't she?
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tzawa-1y · 2 years
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hey!! i have been!! a little dead!! few things;
1) I am completely redoing Hoshizawa's character. Besides most design, quirk, and that sorta stuff, things like lore & backstory, personality, and whatever is all subject to change atm. The redo is mostly there i just haven't written much down, and haven't finished a new ref either, so I probably won't actually post much solid about it anytime soon.
2) birthday comics are all gonna be put off till I get on winter break. Horribly offsetting things so apologies, but by stars, nothing like doing things to take the time out of your day. fortunately this is the last week of school, so I'm just gonna not even pretend I can actually work on comics right now (because i cannot)
3) hoshiz content in general is probably gonna be quieter again, I lost a lotta steam and currently got a lot more invested in a several other things.
I meant to get this out a lot sooner but funnily enough i have been out too much and too busy to actually make & post this. so uh. that's fun. 👍
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the-mill-kat · 4 years
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“Unshaken” Chapter 9
At long last! It’s finally here, y’all. I’m so so so sorry it took so long, my imagination’s gears ain’t turnin’ right! I hope this is to your liking. Your likes and comments are what keep me going, so thank you for all your love and support, partners. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
P.S. Seriously, partners, your feedback is so crucially important, it is the lifeblood to this story. So please, let me know your thoughts, alright? Don’t be shy!
Masterlist
[Drawing specially requested, art by @tylerzart​]
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Summary: You save a mysterious man who is dying on a mountain. Finding out he has Tuberculosis, you use your knowledge and skills with herbs and natural remedies to save him from death and help nurse him back to health. As he slowly starts to recover, you can’t help but wonder: Who is this man? Why had you found him the way that you did, beaten and ill? Only time, patience … and perhaps love … will tell.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
It was well past midnight, and the crickets were now singing their sweet familiar melody for everyone and everything to hear. The stars above were bright and colorful in the sky, reds and greens mixing with blues and purples. The full moon provided plenty of soft blue light across the landscape, the canopies of the trees casting shadows on the ground from the moonlight.
The small night wind felt cool against your skin as you sat near the stream in a small chair, hunched over a small metal tub as you scrubbed one of Austin’s shirts against the washboard. All the while you hummed to yourself lightly, as if you were adding your own musical notes to the crickets’ song.
Finally you reached over to grab the last piece of clothing that you needed to wash, which was Arthur’s blue long-sleeve shirt. The fabric was extremely worn and weathered, dark dirt stains marked in several areas, especially in the front where two large stains on either side were plain as day.
Truthfully you’d been taking your time washing the clothes, unable to help but worry what the next day was going to possibly bring. You weren’t even sure if you were even going to be able to sleep tonight with such troubling thoughts racing through your mind.
You shook your head as you began scrubbing Arthur’s shirt, soaking it in the soapy water as you ran it across the washboard. You scrubbed the cloth hard, trying to wash the dirt stains on the front of the blue shirt, but no matter how hard you tried they refused to come off, and you couldn’t help but wonder how long they’d been there — what they were from? But you weren’t going to ask, that was just none of your business.
All you could do was tell yourself that everything would be alright, and you had to trust both of them that they were going to be safe. You had no idea why you were worried so much, knowing that Austin left on his own all the time only to come back safe and sound.
But this felt different somehow … You knew that Arthur was still sick, both physically and slightly mentally, and that fact alone had you feeling on edge. Austin had never brought anyone along on his hunting trips, and the only times you ever rode out with him was to study and search for new herbs, though those trips were few and far between.
That last thought suddenly brought another: What would have happened if you hadn’t decided to travel with Austin that night? Arthur would have … You flinched, refusing to think about such a horrible thought a second longer.
He was here, alive … safe, and that was all that mattered now.
Finally finished with washing all of the clothes, you stood up and walked over to the clothesline by the garden, getting to work on hanging up all the wet garments onto the wires. The wind was quite strong tonight, so there was no doubt they would be dry and ready by morning.
Minutes later you were clipping the last piece of clothing to the line, and you turned and picked up the now empty bin, propping it on one of the outer walls of the cabin. Next you went over to the tub, emptying the soapy water onto the rocks near the stream, then came back and propped it next to the other bin.
You wiped your hands on your jeans, pleased that the time-consuming chore was now completed. No doubt Austin and Arthur were going to be happy having fresh clean clothes for their trip.
At some point you knew that Arthur was going to need new sets of clothes, but that would require a two-day trip to the nearest small town that had a clothes shop, and you wanted him to be able to travel with you so that he could decide on getting whatever he wanted for himself. You had plenty of money stashed away in a lockbox inside the back of one of your desk drawers, something your father had insisted on giving to you before you’d left, but you’d never really needed it since you and your brother had lived mostly off the land and with what you’d taken from home all those years ago.
You would’ve lended Arthur your brother’s clothes, but the man was so much larger than Austin, his limbs much thicker, and his body much taller by nearly half a foot. Until the time came to make that journey to town, all you could do for now was keep washing the clothes he had.
You rubbed at your eyes as you stepped up onto the porch and approached the front door. It had been a couple hours since you’d left the cabin to work on the laundry, so there was no doubt that Austin and Arthur were both well asleep by now. Opening the door as quietly as possible, you stepped into the sitting room and shut it softly behind you.
As you made your way silently past the couch to head to your bedroom, you heard a small deep groan. You looked over toward the couch, but you couldn’t see Arthur since the large piece of furniture was facing away from you, the backrest obstructing your view of him entirely.
You considered leaving him be, but then there was another groan, this one sounding much more harsh, as if he were in some kind of pain.
Suddenly worried, you headed over, making your way around the couch so you could see Arthur fully.
His face was tight, his brows drawn down, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a grimace. His arms and legs twisted underneath the blanket that covered him, as if he were trying to fight some kind of invisible force that had taken a hold of him.
Then he cried out at that moment, a name passing his lips.
“John!”
The rough sound made you flinch. There was so much anguish in that single cry, so much pain built up into one single name.
What on Earth was he possibly dreaming about?
Who was John?
What could possibly cause such a tormented sound to come from his throat?
Unable to help yourself, you approached the side of the couch, kneeling at his side so that you could reach out and touch his shoulder softly.
His struggles seemed to slow slightly then, his body’s tension suddenly easing as if it somehow found comfort through your touch. The reaction amazed you.
However, his face was still tight with pain, as if his mind were still being tortured in some way.
Not knowing what else to do, you started to hum lightly, singing the tune of a lullaby your mother had once sung to you as a child right before bed. The familiar melody went through you like warm water, and suddenly you felt yourself getting lost in the soft notes, your own body going loose as you ran your hand up and down Arthur’s shoulder in gentle strokes.
Moments passed, and over the course of the song, Arthur’s face started to soften, the small wrinkles in his forehead and around his eyes slowly beginning to disappear once more as his entire face began to gradually relax.
Eventually, you found yourself bringing your hand up from his shoulder to his face, gently stroking his brow and cheek. A part of you couldn’t believe you were doing this, that you would dare take it this far, but the rest of you didn’t care at that moment.
You only cared about comforting Arthur in any way that you could.
You began to sing the lyrics as you ran your fingers over the smooth skin of his cheekbone, traveling them down through the rough patch of his trimmed beard. The bristles felt so rough and soft at the same time, the short brown hairs slightly curling around the tips of your fingernails.
The color of his skin had been returning over the last couple weeks, filling up once more and replacing the terrible dark and sunken spots with the full healthy flush he’d no doubt had before the disease had tried to steal him away from this world. As a result, his body was beginning to glow more and more with each passing day.
You had to admit, the sight of him slowly but surely returning back to normal pleased you immensely, feeling extremely grateful to the sun and stars that he’d actually made it.
After several long moments into the lullaby, Arthur’s entire body was finally and completely relaxed, his face having gone completely soft, the hard lines and wrinkles now gone from his handsome features.
You smiled down at him, pleased that he finally seemed at peace.
Before you thought any better of it, you stroked a few loose chestnut strands from his forehead, tucking them back as you leaned over and laid a gentle kiss on his forehead, finishing the lullaby with one final verse.
“Now, it’s time to rest.”
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The next morning
Arthur woke up to the delicious smell of cooked eggs and fresh-baked pastries, the intoxicating smell invading his nostrils and his senses in the most pleasant way possible. Opening his eyes, he let out a long yawn as he stretched out his limbs, causing the blanket that had been twisted around his torso to fall to the floor.
He sat up, throwing his legs over to place his feet on the cold wood of the floor. Sitting forward, he placed his elbows on his knees as he lifted his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes.
Another mysterious dream, another day on this earth.
“Good mornin’, Arthur!” A voice sounded from behind him, and he turned to see Y/N walking out of the kitchen with a plate full of food in her hands. Today she was wearing a weathered white blouse with faded blue jeans and black boots, her hair tied into an adorable bun. She brought the plate over and placed it on the nightstand next to him. “Did you sleep well?”
Arthur smiled as he rubbed at one of his eyes with the back of his knuckles, “Surprisingly, I did.” He admitted, his voice hoarse from sleep, “Very well, in fact.” He lifted his arms to his sides, stretching them out as he rolled his shoulders and bent back his spine. There was a soft crack, and the feeling instantly loosened the tightness in his lower body. He let out a deep, satisfied sigh as he lowered his arms.
He looked over at the plate of food. “That for me?”
She smiled down at him. “Yes, it’s fried eggs with biscuits. Also, I layered the biscuits with honey. I thought that maybe I could make it a little more interesting for you this mornin’.”
He grinned at her flushed expression, “Is that right?” He reached out and grabbed the plate in one hand, taking the fork with the other. He cut off a piece of the honeyed biscuit and placed it in his mouth. The taste exploded on his tongue, warm and sweet, the texture and flavor of the biscuit all but damn perfect. He chewed, savoring the fluffy bite before he swallowed. “This is good, you make this yourself?” He asked, taking a bite from the fried eggs.
Y/N smiled and nodded, “Made it from scratch. The hens gave us some good batches this mornin’ and I used the goats’ milk that was leftover from last night to mix up with some of the flour and sugar.” She looked down at her lap, her lips raising in a small smile as she tucked a loose strand behind her ear. “I’m glad to hear you slept well.”
Arthur looked up from his plate, turning to look at her as he noticed the odd tone in her voice. A slight blush had appeared in her cheeks, and he wondered what the hell that was about?
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You couldn’t help the warm blush creep into your face.
When Arthur said that he’d had a nice sleep, you were extremely grateful to hear those words. You’d hated to see his struggles while he’d slept, and to know that your lullaby had helped him to relax meant so much.
You wouldn’t tell him what you did, though, why would you? That would no doubt just cause an awkward situation between the two of you, so you decided it was best to keep quiet about that, at least for now. What would be the point in bringing it up, anyways?
Another thought occurred then, and you recalled Arthur crying out that single name in his sleep last night.
John.
You couldn’t help but wonder what his dream might have been about, who or what had caused him so much pain that he would struggle so much in his sleep. Who was John? What memories did Arthur hold in his mind about this person? Had this man been an enemy? A friend? Family?
You wanted so badly to ask him, but you weren’t quite sure you should, unwilling to risk raising any more pain than he was already going through. No matter how curious you were, it was probably best to leave it alone for now.
But that name … there was no doubt it was going to stick in your head for quite a while, no matter how hard you would try to forget it. Curiosity just might kill this cat.
You watched as Arthur finished the last bite of the honeyed biscuit and placed the empty plate on the nightstand. “Thanks for that, Y/N. That was delicious.” His compliment on your food made you smile as he leaned back on the couch.
Against your better judgement, you allowed yourself to take in his form. Red somehow brought out the coloring in his skin even more, the weathered and scarred parts of him giving away the rough life he’d no doubt led.
The silence in the room seemed to stretch on forever, and you couldn’t help but worry about the day ahead. “Arthur?”
He turned his head to look at you, those sapphire-emerald eyes gazing into yours as he lifted a brow, “Hm?”
You lowered your eyes, unable to concentrate on what you needed to say when those eyes of his seemed to burn right through you. “So … you and Austin are leaving today.” You stated it as fact, but you couldn’t help the worry laced in your tone, and he seemed to pick up on it.
Those thick brows lowered, and the corner of his lips lifted into a small smile. “Don’t you worry about that now,” he said, his voice soft, his deep drawl somehow soothing your troubled nerves. “I ain’t gonna let you brother do anything stupid.”
His words had you letting out a small laugh, but then you absorbed their meaning. “It’s not him I’m worried about, Arthur.” You admitted. His smile faltered at that, and you blushed. “I’m sorry, I don’t doubt your skills or anything like that. I just don’t want somethin’ bad happening to you.”
A few seconds passed, and then he nodded, “I understand that, Y/N. But don’t fret none, you hear? We ain’t gonna be doing nothin’ more than tracking, I’ll make sure of that. If we come across any trouble I’m sure your brother will take care of it just fine.”
He said that last sentence as if you didn’t remember how clearly skilled Arthur was with a gun? The memory of him shooting that jackrabbit in the bushes with so little effort ran through your mind again, and Arthur must’ve been able to tell what you were thinking, because he let out a deep laugh, throwing his head back against the back of the couch. Once his mirth faded, he lifted his head back up to look at you again, “We’’ll be alright, honey.”
You couldn’t help but give a small smile. Your worry did seem a little silly, even though you couldn’t really help it. “So what exactly are you planning to do today?” You asked.
Arthur gave a final chuckle and let out a sigh, turning his head to meet your gaze, “You mean with Austin, right?”
You nodded.
“Well,” he sat up, stretching his legs as he lifted his arms and rolled his shoulders once more. “You said we can’t go no more than two miles from here, but that should be plenty of ground to give your brother a chance to learn a few important things about huntin’.” He scratched his neck with the back of his thumb, “Can’t really believe your brother even asked me at all.”
You couldn’t help another short laugh escape, and you covered your mouth with your palm as Arthur looked at you again. “I’m sorry, Arthur, I know. I’m not laughing at you, but you’re right.” You lowered your hand back down to your lap, “Austin has a lot of pride, so it no doubt took him a lot to swallow it in order to ask you.”
Arthur huffed, “Yeah, well, I did offer first. Ain’t no turnin’ back now.”
You gave a small nod, “He’s never been the best at huntin’, let alone handling a rifle or bow. It’s why it takes him so long whenever he goes out on his trips.”
He narrowed his eyes, as if he were in deep thought. “Does he travel very far? While he’s huntin’?”
You thought about that for a moment. “I don’t think so. I’ve never really thought about that so I never asked, but he always returns within a few hours.”
Arthur gave a small nod, running his fingers through his chestnut-brown hair. “Well, it’s real important when you go huntin’ that you travel far to really quiet areas, far away from any loud noises or signs of civilization. Animals don’t really like living too close to us, especially anything large like deer. When you’re out in the wild, there’s much more chance of findin’ and killin’ what you need.”
You couldn’t help but look at him quizzically then, wondering how he knew all this, especially when things like general stores existed. What did he mean by ‘out in the wild’? Again, what kind of life had he lived? “Exactly how much huntin’ have you done, Arthur?” You asked, unable to hold back the awe in your tone.
He let out a small chuckle, a smile stretching his lips as he rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “Enough. Hopefully your brother is a quick learner. I ain’t a man with much patience when it comes to teachin’, I figure.”
His attempt at humor had you smiling again. Was he, though? You couldn’t help but imagine him trying to teach your brother anything. Austin was never known to be a good student. Every time you had ever tried to teach him something about herbs or gardening, he was never a good listener. Then again, you probably couldn’t blame him for not being interested in plants, big bad man that he was.
A picture played out in your head, and you laughed inwardly when you thought of Austin giving Arthur a hard time as he tried to teach him something, anything. “I’m pretty sure you could get him to listen, Arthur.” You teased, referring to his intimidating nature. You were rewarded with another handsome grin and deep laugh.
“As long as your brother ain’t that much of an idiot, he’ll be just fine.” He teased back. You joined in his laughter, and the two of you sat there for a while afterwards, lost in your own thoughts.
A few minutes passed, and finally you stood to your feet. “All the clothes finished drying on the clothesline this morning, I folded yours and placed them in the wash room for you when you’re ready to change.” You said, gesturing with a pointed finger towards the small hallway.
He gave you a grateful nod, “Thanks, Y/N.”
“You’re welcome, Arthur.” You said with a smile as you reached around him to grab the empty plate. Heading into the kitchen you got started on cleaning up the mess leftover from cleaning. It took about fifteen minutes to clean, clear, and toss everything, so when you came back into the living room Arthur was gone. You looked around and saw him through the window sitting on the porch swing, wearing his normal clothes
He appeared to be lost in thought: His head was turned away, his gaze looking over towards the stream. It was another clear and beautiful day, so the sun shined brightly across the landscape, the water and lush flora reflecting the sparkling light.
You studied his features through the glass, and you couldn’t help but notice the pain that clearly showed on his face now.
Since he didn’t know you were there, you figured, he wasn’t bothering to hide his emotions, no doubt thinking about his past again. As you watched him, his eyes were narrowed, his brows lowered in a hard grimace as he lifted a hand to rub it across his face, letting out a hard sigh.
You couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about. Was he thinking if his past? His future? Austin’s words rang in your head at that moment, “Arthur’s probably not going to stay with us forever.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, unwilling to dwell on that terrible thought. You didn’t want to think about Arthur leaving. For some reason, it was just completely unbearable to imagine him no longer being here. Even though he barely knew you, and you barely knew him, it was a feeling you couldn’t explain. A feeling of loss, of sadness. To lose him, it would be like losing a piece of your heart. But why?
You shook your head to clear the thought, forcing your lips to lift in a smile as you stepped outside onto the porch to join him. “Hey, Arthur,” you said, trying to sound cheerful, “You alright?”
He turned his head to look at you, and the raw emotion that was displayed there earlier seemed to fade away as he looked at you. “Hey there, honey, you ready for the day now?”
You noticed he hadn’t really answered you question, but you decided to let it go as you walked over to the one of the wooden beams and leaned onto it, facing Arthur as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Sure am, but I’m still worried about you and Austin, of course.” Arthur glared teasingly at you, his eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to say something, but you held your hand up. “Don’t even try,” you said with a small laugh, “nothing you say is going to make me feel better until you guys are back here safe and sound.”
He let out a deep chuckle, those eyes of his now sparkling with amusement, “If you say so.”
A long moment passed, and you sighed, “So just tracking. Right, Arthur?”
The big man let out another laugh, “You’re too much, you know that?” Arthur lifted a hand to scratch at his chin, “You just said I can’t say nothin’ to make you feel better.”
You rolled your eyes, more to yourself than at him, “I know.”
Then you looked closer, noticing he was scratching those small scars on his chin, and you couldn’t help but display your curiosity. “How did you get those? The scars.”
His fingers stilled, and he ran his thumb over the thick healed tissue, “You mean these?”
You nodded.
Arthur smiled, leaning back against the porch swing, “Can’t say I remember, it’s been so many years. But, I think you can say I got it in a huntin’ accident.”
You narrowed your eyes, and you couldn’t help the sourness that laced your tone, “Really, Arthur?”
He let out another laugh, clearly entertained at your reaction. “It was long ago, Y/N, I was young and stupid.”
“And you aren’t still?” You couldn’t help but ask, and your words made him laugh even harder.
“I guess you’re right.” He rubbed his throat, his fingers pressing into the skin, “You wouldn’t happen to have a … well, a cigarette, would you?”
You narrowed your eyes at him again. “Arthur, I’m sorry, but the last thing you need right now is a cigarette.” You couldn’t help the worry you felt display on your face, letting your brows draw down in a somber expression, “Your body doesn’t need that right now. Especially your lungs, they still have a lot of healing to do.”
He rubbed at his chest, lowering his gaze to the wooden boards of the porch. “If you say so.” He sounded disappointed, but he didn’t seem to have the energy to argue with you, as if he knew you were right, his health was more important at this time than a simple smoke. “I’ll never understand how you did it, honestly.” He said, taking in a large inhale as if he were still trying to absorb the fact that he could finally take deep breaths without damn well collapsing.
“I don’t think I ever told you this, but I had to stick a tube down your throat.”
It was meant to surprise him out of whatever dark state he was in, and indeed it did as he froze, his eyes suddenly widening, silence stretching between you two. You were looking to shock him with that sudden fact being thrown out, an attempt to distract him from whatever misery he was feeling.
“You did what?” His deep voice raised at the last word, nearly cracking. His astonishment more than clear on his face, those thick brows of his raised til the wrinkles on his forehead were displayed.
“Well,” you said, dragging out the word with a slight tease in your tone in an effort to lighten the mood. “When we took you in, I had to wash your lungs out, so to speak.”
He squinted, as if he thought he hadn’t heard you right. “The hell?” He muttered, his voice sounded raspy as if he could barely use it to speak.
Your attempt at distracting him from his dark thoughts had worked, and you continued, “By the time we brought you here, I knew what you had. So the next thing I had to do was use a certain special tool.” You lifted your hands and held them far apart to give a better idea. “A long tube, it had to go in your throat so the medicine could wash through your lungs.”
He flinched, a groan escaping his throat as he dragged out his next words as if he were being tortured. “Please stop now.”
You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at his slightly uncomfortable reaction, he’d even lifted one of his big hands to shield his face from your gaze, “Well, it had to be done. It worked, didn’t it?” You teased.
He couldn’t help but return your smile, those rough lips lifting at the corners. Though his own didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “I know.” He admitted under his breath, then he let out a groan, “Just wish you hadn’t told me that bit.”
You grinned, almost letting out another burst of laughter. You decided to change the subject to ease up on him. “While you two are gone I’m gonna care for my garden for a while, do a few things that need to be done with some of the plants,” you turned your head to look out at the stream, “Then I’m thinking about trying some more of that fishing again.”
Arthur lifted his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “You sure you got the hang of that, then?” He asked, his expression lifting in amusement.
You shrugged. “Probably, but a little bit more practice never hurts, right?”
He let out a sharp huff. “Can’t argue with that,” Arthur agreed gruffly, acknowledging your statement with a single nod as he straightened on the swing, then he added, “Just make sure you don’t poke yourself again.”
You glared at him, but you couldn’t help another smile, “You just had to remind me of that, huh?”
He lifted those huge shoulders in a shrug, “You can say it’s a little revenge for teasing me, s’all.”
You nodded with another laugh. “Uh-huh, sure.”
At that moment, Austin came over from the stables, carrying an empty chicken feed sack. “Mornin’, fellers,” he said cheerfully as he draped the thick canvas cloth over the porch fence.
“Mornin’ to ya,” Arthur said, his deep drawl heavy and direct. His expression was now vacant, the earlier amused emotion gone from his face now, as if absolutely nothing had just been exchanged between the two of you.
His sudden somber attitude had you a little confused, and you didn’t know what to think of it. What had happened to the teasing man you had just spent the last several moments with? You turned to face your brother, brushing it aside for now “Morning, Austin. The animals all taken care of?”
“They should be all set for today.” He replied, brushing the dust and the dirt off his pants that he had gathered from the stables. “We’ll be borrowing Lily today, if that’s alright?”
You nodded, “That’s fine, I know you’ll take good care of her.”
“You ready to learn how to track then?” Arthur asked.
Austin smiled and gave a nod, “Absolutely, real excited to learn somethin’ new for once,” he confessed.
Arthur stood to his feet, “We should get started, then. Sun’s only up for so long,” he said.
Austin nodded in agreement, “Yeah, I’ll go get Lily. Would you mind carrying a few things over to the wagon while I attach her? They’re by the steps.” He said, pointing towards a large bag and a few other supplies.
“Sure,” Arthur said with a nod.
You couldn’t help but notice the way he said that word. ‘Shoah.’
Your heart nearly skipped as you realized the moment of Arthur and Austin finally leaving was fast-approaching. The thought of soon being alone for the day was strange and uncomfortable, even though you still couldn’t explain why. You’d been alone for three years whenever Austin went out to hunt, but after having Arthur here for the last four weeks, it was hard to imagine living here otherwise, even for a single day. What was it about him that drew you him? That made you feel like you could no longer imagine being alone, especially without him?
“Let me help you, Arthur.” You said suddenly, shaking yourself out of your thoughts by heading over to the supplies and lifting a couple of the bags alone with a large jug of water.
“You don’t have to do that, Y/N,” Arthur said as he walked over and grabbed the larger bag, he threw it over his shoulder and reached out to try to take the rest of the bags from you.
You backed away, avoiding his big hands, “I know, but I want to,” you said firmly. And with that, you headed over to the wagon with the bag straps slung over your shoulders, carrying the large jug of water with both hands. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel Arthur’s gaze on you. Whether from surprise or something else, though, you couldn’t tell.
You walked over to the stables with Arthur following closely behind you, and after reaching the wagon you went around to the back and placed the supplies into it, Arthur joining in next to you as he set the large bag down along with the others. You turned to face him as you both stepped away from the wagon. The silence seemed to stretch on forever, and tension suddenly started to grow in the air between you.
Finally you couldn’t hold back any longer.
Turning off your mind before you could change it, you threw yourself forward, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, right before placing your lips directly onto his.
Warmth.
Arthur’s warmth, it was all you could feel, all you allowed yourself to feel in that moment. His lips were so soft and rough at the same time, and his large body was completely still under your touch. But after a short moment, you felt his arms wrap around you as he deepened the kiss, tilting his head to gain better access as you felt him breathe through his nose, the hot air hitting your cheek as he exhaled.
Honestly, a part of you had expected and feared that he would pull away, and you thanked the sun and stars above that he didn’t.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Arthur didn’t know how to react at first, her unexpected action having completely taken him by surprise.
But his surprise quickly faded as he absorbed Y/N’s touch and fell right into her embrace, allowing himself to wrap his arms around her smaller form as he lost himself into the kiss. Even though the intimate contact was the last thing he’d expected, he wasn’t about to allow such a sweet moment pass him by so quickly without taking advantage of it.
Lifting his hand to the back of her neck, he stroked the loose strands of her soft hair between his calloused fingers, relishing how silky they felt against his coarse skin. But the feeling he cared for most at this very moment was her remarkable lips. Damn, he’d missed the sweet taste of them against his own, and he didn’t hold back, savoring them even further as he opened his mouth to run his tongue along her delicious entrance.
She let out a soft moan, her lips parting from the sound and he took it another step further, pushing his tongue into her mouth. He met her tongue with his own, and he couldn’t help the deep groan that escaped his throat at the sweet sensation. What the hell was he doing, Arthur thought, feeling like an idiot having fallen for another woman all over again. Dammit, what was even the point? He knew deep down that he wasn’t worthy of having anyone love him, and he had no doubt in his mind that once Y/N found out about his past, who he’d been, she would instantly turn tail and run without a second thought.
He squeezed his eyes shut, chasing those dark thoughts away and distracting himself by running his burly hands down her body, engaging his mind in every way he could on the feeling of her heat beneath his touch. There was just something about Y/N that drew him to her, her sweet nature, her kind gestures, her delicate but tough behavior.
Arthur couldn’t explain it, and he didn’t feel the need to during this moment.
Y/N let out another low moan as she lifted a hand and ran her fingers through his thick hair, jousting her tongue with his own, pushing her body even tighter against his. He barely resisted the need to grind himself against her body, and she made a small hiss when he suddenly squeezed her hips hard, pulling her lips slightly away from his. “Arthur … ”
There it was. His name on her lips, said with such a deep passion and arousal that it nearly made Arthur want to take her then and there.
And if it wasn’t for her brother barging in, he damn well might have.
“Everythin’ all ready to go?”
Arthur jerked away from her lips with a deep growl, reluctantly pulling himself away and breaking the intimate embrace as Y/N stepped back as well, giving off the impression that they hadn’t actually just been kissing the daylights out of each other.
Austin came out of the stables leading Lily over to the wagon to strap her to the front of the coach. “She’s all set, sorry it took so long. Had to make sure she was fed and brushed for the long day ahead.” He explained as he began tightening the leather straps around the large horse’s body.
Arthur couldn’t help but glare at your brother, and he heard Y/N let out another small giggle, no doubt amused by his annoyed expression. “That’s fine, Austin.” She said, and she almost laughed even harder when Arthur shot that look directly at her. “I’m sorry, Arthur and I were just exchangin’ a few funny jokes.”
Arthur lifted a dark brow at her, entertained by how seamless her lie was.
“Oh?” Austin came over to them, crossing his arms over his chest as he gave off a large smile, “What was one of the jokes?”
For a heartbeat Arthur thought the brother was about to find them out, but Y/N beat him to the punch … so to speak. “Well, Arthur here just explained to me what a Ring Dang Doo is,” she stated flawlessy, as if it were absolute fact. She gave off a smile, humor glowing off her expression as she tucked a finger into her hair, curling at a few loose strands as if she were completely shy and embarrassed by the new knowledge. “I never could quite figure that out before.”
Austin’s eyes widened, then he narrowed them at Arthur. “Y’all mean the song?” He asked, his voice low, “Really, now?”
She rolled her eyes at her brother, “Oh, hush, Austin. I was the one who asked him.”
He looked back over at her and let out a sharp grunt, “Well, you shouldn’t be talking about such things, anyhow. Especially with another man.”
She stuck out her lower lip in a mocking pout. “Aww, but how was I supposed to know that’s what it meant?” She teased.
Austin let out a long sigh, leaning his head back to look up at the sky. “I guess,” he grudgingly agreed. “Just be a little bit more careful next time before you make us both die of embarrassment, you hear?” And with that he turned to the wagon and climbed into the driver’s seat, grabbing his worn cavalry hat from the small storage unit beneath the seat and placing it on his head.
“Oh, that reminds me!”  Y/N said, turning away to rush toward the cabin, shouting over her shoulder just before she headed in. “Wait there just a moment!”
A few moments passed, and Arthur could feel Austin’s quizzical gaze on him. Where was a damn lasso when he needed one?
Y/N came back outside and headed over with something in her hand. Arthur narrowed his eyes at what she was holding — a hat?
“Here,” she said, holding it out to him when she reached them.
Arthur stared down at it, and memories instantly came flooding back, even though he couldn’t explain why. It was some kind of worn black-leather cowboy hat, a cross between a Gambler and a Carrigan. A braided brown leather band was wrapped around it, and … a large owl feather was tucked securely into the braid.
The thing was beautiful, he had to admit, and it reminded him a lot of his father’s hat. The one he’d given to John before … well, before that whole shit-show had gone down.
“This was our grandfather’s before he passed.” Y/N explained as she held it out to him, and she looked down as she said her next words, a soft smile on her lips, though it didn’t even begin to reach her eyes. “He didn’t exactly lead the best life when he was alive, but — ” she shook her head as if to clear her thoughts, “Well, you could say he was a wanderer of sorts ... Anyways, I never really had any plans on using it, so … ”
She lifted it up — and placed it directly on Arthur’s head.
The feeling of rough leather over the crown of his head again nearly had Arthur dazed, the sight of a dark wide brim shielding his eyes from the harsh light so familiar it was almost too much for his mind to bear. “Y/N, you didn’t have to — ”
She shook her head, “I insist. It’s just going to gather dust otherwise. You need somethin’ to protect your eyes from the sun, alright?” Her voice was firm, as if she were trying to convince both of them that this was really happening, then she let out a small laugh as she patted the top of the hat, “So if I hear you took it off, I will beat you myself, got it?” She said teasingly.
Arthur couldn’t help but let out a deep laugh at her attempt at humor. “Alright then, darlin’, if you say so.” With that, he reached up and tugged the brim down slightly, giving her the classic cowboy salute.
He was rewarded for his action with another beautiful smile. “You men are too much sometimes,” she tittered, then she reached out and grabbed his shoulder gently, turning him towards the wagon, “Now you two go and conquer the huntin’ grounds, before I change my mind.”
Arthur let her lead him to the other side of the coach, and he climbed up next to Austin.
Y/N smiled up at them as Austin cracked the reins, getting Lily to start moving forward. She waved as they started down the trail into the forest, and Austin and Arthur waved back.
“Please be safe!” She called out after them as they disappeared into the thick trees.
Arthur smiled to himself, lifting a hand to stroke the rough leathered brim of his new hat. A gift to him, from Y/N herself.
For some reason he couldn’t explain, he heard a soft lullaby play deep inside his mind as they travelled further and further away.
. . . . . 
The day is done, the time has come.
You battled hard, the war is won.
You did your worst, you tried your best …
… Now, it’s time to rest.
. . . . .
— To Be Continued
[Please let me know what you think, your feedback truly fuels this story!]
🐺❤️🦌
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madrabbitsociety · 3 years
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Sometimes, and I do not mean for this to sound malicious, which it will, I feel the need to defend hairdressers. 
Hairdressers and hair stylists are skilled technicians who go through thousands of hours of training in order to hone their craft. Some of us were lucky enough to go to a technical school while in high school and are not in debt. I, however, paid almost $25,000 to go to school. I had to go for 1500 solid hours. In my state, that meant Mon-Thurs evenings for 5 hours a night. In my opinion, people don’t give stylists enough credit for what they need to know to get licensed in their state. Specifically, my license is for cosmetology. I had to know skin disorders, chemical reactions, actual strand structure - and we still don’t get told enough because we don’t get proper training on different types of hair, but that’s a whole different post that a lot of other people have done better than me. 
The predominant way we are paid in the industry is via commission. So if we have no one scheduled, we don’t get paid. If we have a client cancel, we don’t get paid. At my first salon I was expected to stay as early as I could to as late as I could, unpaid, just in case someone came in. Of course, corporate places are mildly better in that they offer a minimum wage, but that’s usually somewhere between $7-9 an hour. In order to earn commission in that type of situation you have to do more in services than what you would have been paid for the hour. Again, probably an entire post in itself. 
I tried a lot of places. I paid a lot of money for a license I was very proud to own. The final straw was a salon near my house. Personality-wise, I really felt like it would work out because I enjoyed the people I was around and I was disappointed when it didn’t work. When I first started, they insisted I do two unpaid apprenticeship days because I was (licensed for 6 months at that time) too new to work on their clients. They would provide models and charge the models a lower service fee than their usual service fee. I would then have two paid days at $10 an hour where I would basically follow the owner around, clean and do shampoos. On my days off, I was expected to want to come into the salon and continue to apprentice for free. There was a point in my apprenticeship phase where I was only being paid two days for 5-6 days worth of work. 
Again, this is not uncommon in the industry. Maybe not to this extreme, but certainly there’s a lot of free work being done. Does your stylist have someone help them blowdry? You might want to make sure that apprentice is being paid.
My skills did improve greatly during this period, but I maintain that was because I put a lot into it. The owner took all the credit- through his great teaching methods, I was becoming an ‘okay’ hairdresser. 
During the apprenticeship, unless you handed me a cash tip, he kept all of my credit card tips. So if you added a tip after service with your credit card, the salon kept them because they said I was using their electricity/taking up space in the salon and I needed to pay for that.
In addition to all of the time I listed above actually being in the salon, I was also expected to attend continuing education classes. In summary, and again this is not an uncommon culture in the industry, if you do not eat-sleep-breathe HAIR, you are told you’re not good and you won’t do well. The only exception seems to be if you have children, but if you’re single/without kids they will work you to the bone.
When I was finally promoted to a junior stylist, I stopped being paid hourly at all. I was told I would get 36% commission for services and I was specializing in color corrections/the blonding journey at the time, so I was doing $200-300 services quite often. Some of those services took 4-6 hours of my time, but if I had no one scheduled I was still expected to straighten up, do laundry, sweep the floors and help other stylists with color application and blowouts. Which is fine, kind of. The problem became that from the start of my journey at that specific salon, I would be expected to arrive when we opened at 10 AM and stay until the owner finished his clients- sometimes I didn’t leave until 11-12 PM, and was expected to come back the next day. 
So yes, one $300 color service could mean that I earned 14-16$ an hour, but… when you’re working 10-12 hour days that kind of knocks it down to minimum wage again.
Then there is the opinion that this is an easy job that so many people can do and you don’t need to be vaguely intelligent to do it. That the people who chose hair are stupid or unskilled. I was sitting on the steps of my school once, reading an Agatha Christie book and comparing certain passages to an ACD Sherlock Holmes story via text message with SpicyMags, when an older couple walked by. The man looked up at the school sign and scoffed, “These girls are getting suckered into a scam. This is nothing but a scam and they’re stupid enough to fall for it.” 
Well, in retrospect, he’s not wrong, but at the same time when you know the blood and sweat and tears- the thousands of hours and dollars that are poured into not only the initial licensing but the continued education classes- being a hairdresser is so much more than people give it credit for. It’s an abusive industry that exploits a lot of unpaid labor and even when you get to a point where you have skill, where you are an artist, you have people asking for a luxury service and then complaining when that unnecessary luxury costs them actual money. 
One last thing I’d love to point out- the 100% customer service guarantee. A lot of salons these days are trying to change, but a lot of them also still have a guarantee that if you don’t love your hair, you get a free redo or a refund. Do you know what that means? Your stylist doesn’t get paid.
So I can spend 6-8 hours on your hair after you tell me it’s been box dyed brown attempting to take you through the lightening journey to get it blond. I can tell you that because of the molecules and ingredients in the dye, the actual damaged structure of your hair, that it is not possible to do it all in one day but I can get you close. I can explain to you the entire process, waste all my time being completely honest with you about how golden it’s still going to look because it IS a journey/process, and at the end you can decide that because I didn’t get your hair to solid white in one go that you want a refund…
And I don’t get paid for the entire day that we spent together. 
That’s some fucking bullshit, but it’s - and this is a quote from several of the places I’ve worked- an “industry standard”. 
The cherry on this shituation cake is that we also don’t get any health benefits, life insurance, retirement- no freaking anything (corporate salons being a slight exception although having worked in the medical field I can tell you the benefits offered by corp. owned salons are not great.)
So please, next time you decide that it’s laughable that a salon quotes you $150 for a craft haircut that takes a certain level of knowledge and skill, remember that the salon gets most of that and if you don’t like it there’s a huge change your stylist isn’t getting paid.
Edit: Things that I did not mention but should have- the toll it takes on your body (repetitive motions and standing in heels on concrete floors cause back issues, neck and hip issues, knee issues, carpal tunnel and risk of cutting off your knuckle with your instruments). I had to sign a release that my school was not responsible for me cutting any part of my body with my shears (I’ve had bosses who lost toes and knuckles). You think that heels thing is a joke? I’ve worked in several salons where ‘female’ stylists were required to wear heels and at least three items of make-up because ‘this was the beauty industry and we had a standard to keep’. Say you gather a clientel and can rent your own chair or booth, you’re responsible for purchasing every single bit of supplies you might need to continue doing what you’re doing, so you’re still having business costs eat into your hourly wage. People need to give a fucking standing ovation to hairdressers, okay, because this industry is brutal.
I’m not saying I dislike doing hair, or that I’d never do hair again, but there are several reasons I’m not doing it right now. 
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colemckenzies · 4 years
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update after a week of getting up an hour early to write since I know you're all dying to know
i wfh wednesday so my routine was different but i successfully wrote on Mon, Tues, Thurs, and Fri
i WAS sleepy but not like. heinously so. i had a green smoothie for breakfast while I wrote which i think helped
mostly i just wrote in my journal, first day was about what I was doing, second day was how it affected the rest of my work day, third day was about what i wanted to achieve with my writing and some thoughts abt my current wips
fourth day i actually attempted a writing exercise in a separate notebook from a book of writing exercises. i wrote for 20 minutes (less than 150 words) before it was Too Much and i wrote in my journal for the rest of the session, but used the time to kind of analyse why Real Writing feels so hard and what the benefit of that specific exercise would be and when i could go back to it
so all in all. a success? but im theoretically wfh all next week and potentially after that bc of corona and then my contract runs out and might not get renewed so goodbye to that specific routine i did for four whole days.
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hotarutranslations · 4 years
Text
#haroprodanceacademy!
Evening
Its Ishida Ayumi
Today was a recording for Hello Project Dance Academy
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Miyo-chan, wore my Gaokki socks <3
We learned ballroom dance #1 #2 #3 we learned from Umebo-san #4 #5 #6
Entering season 2,
with a remaining wonderful result from a world competition, we learned from KANA-BOON!-san #1 #2 #3
(its starting to be broadcast from October)
What we'll learn next time is, this time,
Learning to dance in the "teaching" position
Dance is really from deep inside, if you get it from being taught directly, you can also feel it from watching it,
In that way this time, you can also get it by teaching
Recently, there are videos of teaching the 15th generations dance on Hello! Station but flowing into it, teaching, its really difficult
Giving advice to the members on dancing, and explaining the choreography from 1 is a completely different feeling
well,
When taught "how to find the area of a triangle" when learning "multipulcation" and "division" as a child, in the way of teaching a child that doesn't know it, its completely different,
with that feeling, perhaps I'll convey it!
Therefore, being able to teach people so it suits them, this depends on ability and the ability to identify it, my own power is tested then
this time,
we were taught dance by,
Those from Tokyo University!!!
they copy and dance to idol dances, they're a unidol group,
within Tokyo University there is a circle, "Tokyo University Musume '19", thats what they call their group Eeh, an unusual parody! thank you very much! lol
They'll show off Hello! Project songs at school festivals, it seemed like there were some of the dances,
well this time we,
Its not like we went and taught them straight-forwardly!
this time
up until now we were learning something different
teaching, its something you have to be responsible about,
although its heavy, its also something fun
The number of my juniors has increased, there are a lot of opportunities to teach but,
how the most junior member BEYOOOOONDS Hirai Miyo-chan will teach, how the most young, Tsubaki Factory's Akiyama Mao-chan will do,
When becoming the role of "teacher" the members, surely there will be expressions you can only see here!
the broadcast date is still undecided but,
perhaps it'll be in November or December, look forward to it <3
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the decided broadcast dates details are below ↓
October
#5 5 (Sat) 11:30PM- /19 (Sat) 11:30PM
#6 (end) 12(Sat) 11:30PM- /26 (Sat) 11:30PM-
November
#1 4(Mon) 9:30PM- /11 (Mon)9:30PM-
#2 4(Mon) 10:00PM- /11(Mon) 10:00PM-
#3 18(Mon) 9:30PM- /25(Mon) 9:30PM-
#4 18(Mon) 10:00PM- /25(Mon) 10:00PM-
↑Season 1
Ballroom Dance & Umebo-san reruns
First broadcast ↓Season 2
October
#1 17(Thurs) 11:30PM- (First) 24(Thurs) 11:30PM- /31(Thurs) 11:30PM-
November
#1 2(Sat) 9:30- /5 (Tues) 7:00PM- 7(Thurs) 11:00PM- /14(Thurs) 11:00PM0 19 (Tues) 7:00PM-
#2 7 (Thurs) 11:30PM- (First) 14(Thurs) 11:30PM- /21(Thurs) 11:00PM- 28 (Thurs) 11:00PM-
#3 21(Thurs) 11:30PM-(First) 28(Thurs) 11:30PM-
Season 2's #1 will be rebroadcast as well! lol
you can watch it on HikariTV and Skyperfect! dTV and Amazon Prime
(details here)
Definitely please watch it!!!!!
Hello! Project Dance Academy Site Hello! Project Dance Academy Season 2 Site
The hashtag is, #haroprodanceacademy!
Today was a day that was really,
dy,,,
dynamic power,,,
It wasn't stamina, its a different word, "I used O power~" I think if it was in Japanese,
I think its dynamic power,
but that Kanji conversion doesn't come out
What is it I want to say
Reserved power...? yeah, its not quite reserved power... what is it...?
lol
I don't have the reserved power to think about it now
(.........↑ it matches!?)
Tomorrow is a concert in Hiroshima
I want to meet everyones smiles soon thank you for your support
See you ayumin <3
https://ameblo.jp/morningmusume-10ki/entry-12532592322.html
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Text
Two Spies, Two Missions [Part 1]
[Bucky Barnes Spy AU]
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 
Warnings: mentions of violence, sexual tension
Summary: An AU in which Bucky and the reader are both spies, Bond-style, but fight for different sides and meet at a gala for the very first time. They both have the same target but accepted very different missions. So naturally, everything goes wrong for both of them.
A/N: this is my entry for @itsbuckysworld’s 1k AU Writing Challenge, I picked prompt #24 from this list. Prompt is in bold. Congrats on 1k! Word count around 4,4k.
Masterlist | Part 2
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Let’s not waste any time on unimportant background information. You’re in a rush anyway.
As a spy there’s only so much time you can spend on trivialities and starting out in the business, one learns pretty quickly how to shift their focus to what counts. Meaning the things that get you into the situation you need to be in or, and that’s even more important, the things that get you out of it.
A captured, imprisoned spy is worthless – not to forget dangerous – and is let loose by their employer immediately, the mission gets denied and has officially never even existed. The spy will be on their own.
You don’t want that. No one wants that. If a spy gets captured by enemies, torture is something that’s very, very likely to happen. Why? They want to see if they can get information out of you. Of course you got trained for those kind of situations but who knows how you would react, should that ever happen to you.
A good spy doesn’t spill, a spy with self-preservation does.
The former is a loss to the secret intelligence agency the spy is employed at, the latter is an even greater loss and a big threat to the secret intelligence agency the spy is employed at. Enemies with secret information they aren’t supposed to know are not to be underestimated.
So it’s clear, focus is everything and a reliable gut feeling doesn’t hurt either. But enough of that.
You tilt your head back and look up at the brightly-lit building in front of you. Tonight’s mission: eliminate Susan Ford.
She’s been in your employers’ business way too long now and news reached you she stepped in contact with your agency’s rival organisation, Rogers Investigations. They are like the New Yorkian answer to MI6 which puts them pretty high on the world list, except your people are better.
Of course they don’t agree with you on that. The government – who funds you and your employers by the way – neither agrees nor disagrees, and if you’re honest that’s what makes you cautious towards Rogers Investigations. If the government can’t make a clear statement about RI, there must be more to them than just an independently funded secret intelligence agency.
You still think your people are better than them though.
There were two possibilities how you could get this done. Get a fake invitation and faint being a guest. Or dress up as a waitress and pretend you’re staff. Seeing as the first one comes with a short, shiny dress and high-heels (not good for spy stuff), you decided on the second option. Black dress, white apron on the hip and flat, black vans. Perfect to be invisible.
You show the bouncer your fake ID and pass him with a smile, entering a small foyer, a door on the other side of the room leads to the backside of the kitchen. Aside from a couple of rushed-looking staff members, it’s relatively empty. You’re late.
Without hesitation, you enter the kitchen and walk to the front where you suspect the waiters to be. You don’t get disappointed. As subtle as possible you join a nervous group of chatting men and women, all wearing black; the women in dresses, the men in suit shirts and pants. Some of them give you curious looks when you approach but they lose interest just as fast. Good.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention please?” A woman suddenly booms from a couple of steps away. Every conversation immediately stops and heads swing around. She must be in her mid-forties, has her long red hair in a low ponytail and wears a blue satin dress that goes to mid-calves. Your eyes cut to her shiny, silver high-heels before wandering back up to her stressed face.
“Calvin already gave you a run down about this part of the evening, I suppose, so I expect you know what to do.” Ummm. “The first group is already serving drinks. Everyone go to your positions and start doing your job, please, before this goes downhill. Calvin told me you know about the important people of tonight, high-society, high-maintenance. If one of them ever happens to be without a drink in their hand, someone is gonna get fired, I want to make that clear beforehand. Any questions?”
Of course no one dares to ask a question after that mini-speech and even if someone wanted to, the woman doesn’t wait for anyone to raise their hand and turns on her heels.
“Go now! It’s showtime.”
With that she disappears behind a door that likely leads to the ballroom. Your “colleagues” don’t waste any time and jump to the counter on the left and you follow them. Another kitchen staff member hands out trays with champagne flutes on them and without even looking at you, he shoves one into your face.
“Go, go, go!” He barks and looks like he’s about to pass out. You have a snappy comment on the tip of your tongue but you hold it back and turn to the door. This is just a mission, not a real job, Y/N, relax.
The ballroom is one of the most glamourous locations you have ever seen. Glitter, gold, lights, marble, silver everywhere. It’s almost too much to take in. There’s a huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling, looking more expensive than you are probably worth and there is a modern waterfall on the wall on the other side of the room. You can even see a little fountain, a marble figure in the middle dominates this extravagant scene and is framed by exotic looking plants.
The room is packed with fancy people.
There are colourful gowns and robes and mini dresses wherever you look, shiny high-heels, lush jewellery and lavish hairstyles. You can hear jazz music coming from a small orchestra on the right. This is crazy.
You snap out of your mini-trance and start to move through the room. Time to find Susan Ford.
Not to blow your cover, you offer champagne to guests here and there but you hold out your eyes to scan the room the whole time. There are so many people here, how in the hell are you going to find Susan?
You know how she looks, you’ve seen pictures. Dark skin, brown eyes, blonde-dyed hair Ombré-style. You don’t know her attire but you figured she is someone who wouldn’t go unnoticed. As you look around you, you quickly realize that mindset was a mistake.
Your tray is empty now and for every normal waitress it’d be time to go back and get new glasses but you don’t bother doing that and continue to stroll through the room. She has to be somewhere, doesn’t she?
“Y/N?” You can’t help but jump a little at the sudden voice in your ear.
It’s Tom, your coordinator, who is sitting in the control room and is assigned to several missions that are going down tonight. If this was a bigger thing, you would be in contact with someone from the agency every second but in comparison it’s a rather small mission, so Tom only checks in on you occasionally. There’s also the option to contact him but you don’t know how he could help you right now.
“Yes?” You answer quietly and dodge a young couple that makes their way over to the enormous bar.
“Everything alright?”
“Yup. I’m in the ballroom, everyone thinks I’m a waitress. I haven’t found my target yet though.”
That revelation is followed by a short silence and you turn your head and let your eyes wander over the crowd.
“Susan Ford?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, wait a second.”
You can’t hear what he is doing but you guess he’s tipping something into his computer. After a couple of seconds he seems to have found something.
“There aren’t any pictures online yet but Glitz Images already have some in their private archive. They should go online in a couple of hours.” You don’t ask how he managed to hack Glitz Images that fast and you also don’t care. “I found her pictures. Yellow dress, hair in a high bun, oh – and it looks like she changed her hair colour. She’s parts in blue now.”
That’s why you didn’t find her! She changed her look. Damn it, you thought the pictures were recent.
“Must have done that late yesterday or today, our pictures are from yesterday morning” Tom adds and you can practically hear him lean back.
“Thanks, Tom. You saved me. I thought I had to spend the entire night at this thing” You say and start moving again, now looking for a yellow dress and blue hair. Shouldn’t be that hard.
“Oh, poor thing. Must be hard to drink champagne and walk on literal gold, I feel you. Sara is in Atlanta, clearing out a small drug cartel. She could use some champagne right now.”
Irgh. Atlanta’s drug cartels are disgusting. Poor Sara.
“I’m not drinking champagne, I’m serving it. I’m not part of the fun here, Tom, you should see these people. I’m a peasant to them” You say but can’t stop the smile on your face, “Tell Sara I’m thinking of her.”
You can hear Tom’s laugh through the earpiece.
“You shouldn’t make fun of her, Y/N, I don’t think we need a repeat of Thurs-“
“Tom, I found her! Sorry, I gotta go!” You burst out as a huge yellow dress catches your eyes, accompanied by dark blue hair in a bun. There she is, Susan Ford. Finally.
“Okay, then. Good luck!”
“Thanks.” You don’t hear him disconnect but you know he’s gone.
Your target stands approximately 50 feet away from you and is surrounded by five people. Two women and three men. They seem to have a lively conversation which is perfect. The more distraction, the better. She also doesn’t have a glass in her hand. You memorize their location and quickly walk back to the kitchen.
There are several ways to do this. Shoot her in the bathrooms, shoot her in the hallway (when no one else is there), shoot her in the car when she leaves or poison her. You want to get this done as fast as possible, so you decide on trying to poison her first. Good thing you’re the waitress with complete access to her drinks.
You enter the kitchen, walk to the counter and pick a new tray with full champagne flutes. The guy who previously handed them out to you is gone, probably busy cooking and fighting against a mental breakdown – judging from how he looked.
You need to be fast, right now you’re the only waitress here. You pull out a tiny phial filled with a clear liquid and open it. It’s created to completely mingle with the additional substance to not raise any attention on different colours or consistence. You empty the phial in one of the glasses and put it back.
No second later the door opens and two waiters walk in, chatting, and grab two trays. You smile at them like you just didn’t put poison into the champagne and leave the kitchen with your murder weapon.
Approaching Susan Ford and friends, you take a deep breath and pull out your friendliest smile. Now is the moment that counts. She’s been messing with your people, deliberately, so she must know that she is being watched to a certain degree. Maybe she even suspects an attack like this or maybe she underestimates you in that regard.
Nevertheless, if Susan gets any suspicions that you aren’t that friendly or well-intentioned, she might not bite. And then you will have to shoot her and her bodyguards that she likely brought here. You’re only a couple of feet away when you take in her company.
The two women are dressed to the nines, glittery, short dresses with lots of cleavage, dangerous looking high-heels, heavy jewellery and make-up that passes a normal Smokey Eye. They look ready to walk red carpets and they fit in with the decorations of the ballroom perfectly.
The three men all look dapper in their suits. Two of them have blonde hair, one short, one a little longer, and the third one has black hair, even though he might as well be a dark brunette. He catches your eyes the second you get a better look at his appearance.
He has piercing blue eyes, a clean-shaved face, his hair is pulled back in quite a Casanova way and the top buttons of his white suit shirt are undone. If you weren’t such a badass agent, you’d be weak in the knees right now. Suddenly, his eyes meet yours.
You quickly look away and focus on your target who you can see in a side profile and who is engaged in an animated conversation with one of the blonde guys. You calm your nerves and step to the group.
“Good evening” You say in your best I’m-completely-innocent voice and shoot Susan a bright smile, all eyes cut to you, “Ma’am, I noticed you didn’t have a glass in your hand and I have strict orders not to let that happen. If I may.”
You pick a “random” glass and hand it to her which she attempts to accept smiling happily but all of a sudden a hand from the left shoots out and takes the glass from you. Sexy dark-haired guy holds the champagne in his hand and inspects you from head to toe. His eyes look alert.
“Excuse me, sir?” You say, trying to stay friendly and professional. Which is hard.
“I’m sorry, Miss Ford underlies strict safety precautions. I will take this one. She can have another one” He says, his voice deep and alluring. Shit. He must be her bodyguard. He must know something. Shit shit.
You keep a slight smile on your face – professional waitress who doesn’t know anything about secret intelligence agencies – and turn to Miss Ford. She doesn’t look surprised, she looks expectant.
“Okay, no problem. Here’s another one for you, Miss” You purr and hand her a second glass. She takes it from you, says a quick Thank You and turns back to her conversational partner.
Keep your cool, Y/N, don’t let it show!
You throw a quick glance around the group. The dark-haired guy watches you closely and you would lie if you said it doesn’t make you nervous.
“Can I offer some champagne to anyone else here? Miss?” You ask for good measure. Miss Dangerously Pointed High-Heel simply shakes her head and proceeds to ignore you. Okay, then, bitch. Time to go.
Without sparing Sexy Bodyguard another look, you turn around and walk to a different group, offering them a drink. You can feel his eyes burn into your back. He knows something. He wouldn’t have taken that one glass from you and let her have a different one if he didn’t know something was up. You endeavoured to make the glass picking look as random as possible but apparently he didn’t buy it.
Which means you’re a potential threat to him now. Which also means, poisoning Susan Ford isn’t an option anymore and shooting her is the only way. Shit.
You empty your tray quickly and walk back to the kitchen. You need a second in private to contact Tom and inform him about the newest status of your mission but you can’t do it in the ballroom because Sexy Bodyguard is likely watching you from now on and you don’t know where his men are. If one of them sees you talk to air, they’ll know you’re undercover.
You put down the tray on the counter and look around you. Nobody even notices your presence. Excellent.
Without making a sound, you walk out a backdoor leading into a hallway. You reach a corner, go around it and stand against the wall. You peak down the hallway you came from before leaning back and pushing a button on your earpiece.
“Tom?”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“My target has a bodyguard. I prepared a poisoned drink for her but her bodyguard intervened and made me give her a different one. He knows something, Tom. I don’t know if my cover is blown but I definitely have company now” You quickly explain, eager to keep your voice down in case someone passes by.
Short silence, then “Shit.”
“I just wanted to tell you that, should something happen, she was with three guys, two blondes – short and longer hair – and a brunette – longer, chin-length hair, I can’t say for certain though ‘cause he pulled it back. They all have blue eyes. I have never seen them before.”
“Did one of them have a metal arm?”
“What?”
“Did one of them have a metal arm? Did the dark-haired one have a metal arm, Y/N?”
What kind of question is that??
“I, um … I don’t know, I didn’t see it. I only saw a flesh hand. Why?”
“Susan Ford stepped in contact with Rogers Investigations. You know that. It’s very likely she suspects an attack like this and hired bodyguards from them. Those being secret agents. No normal bodyguard would have caught on to you that quickly, so I’m guessing they’re Rogers’ men. One of them is known to have a metal arm. Understand?”
“Oh. Oh wow, okay” You mumble. You should have known that. You didn’t. How embarrassing.
“Where ar… now?” There are sudden noises coming through the earpiece, like the connection is breaking off. You put a hand to your ear.
“What? What did you say?”
“…ere are … need to know … now.”
Shit. This is not happening right now. Why tonight?
“Tom, the connection is breaking off, I can’t understand you. Maybe I shou-“ You start but get interrupted by a hand grabbing your wrist and twisting it behind your back and another one shoving you into the wall, face first. You feel the person press their body against yours to prevent all options of escape and you’re completely captured.
You try to break free but whoever is holding you, is stronger. He doesn’t even move an inch.
“You and I have a problem.”
You recognize the low voice in your ear immediately. It’s dark-haired Sexy Bodyguard. Goddammit.
“Sexual harassment is indeed a problem” You return and pray to all the gods out there that Tom will come back to you.
“That’s not what I’m talking about, darling. I’m talking about this spy thing.”
“What spy thing?”
You can’t see his face but you can feel him tighten his grip on your wrist.
“Don’t play dumb, I just heard you talk to your coordinator. You tried to poison my client” He growls, his breath on your ear gives you goosebumps. Stupid body, get yourself together!
“I know our champagne is not the best out there but I wouldn’t call it poison either, sir, maybe you’re being a little dramatic-“
“Agent Y/L/N, I know who you work for and I know you got assigned to Miss Ford. Please save us some time and tell me why you tried to kill her. I don’t have the patience for this.”
“Your short temper is not my problem” You clip back because you can’t help yourself and wait for his reaction. He hesitates for a second, probably going through his options that don’t include you being dead and then you feel his thumb on your wrist lightly brushing over your skin. You freeze. Not the decision you expected from him.
“I know you tried to kill her because she’s been all in your employers’ business the past months but I was actually giving you an opportunity to lie your way out of this. Miss Ford came to us for help and I think you understand I can’t just let you go after your little murder attempt” He explains, his face seemingly coming even closer, you can feel it.
It makes you hella nervous. You’re a trained, experienced secret agent but one good-looking guy holds you against a wall and you’re nervous. Perfect.
You decide to remain silent. The finger on your wrist still caresses your skin. Extraordinary interrogation technique.
“You’re probably wondering why your friend’s connection broke off. Radio-interfacing. Good to corner someone.”
So it was him. Isn’t that just great. You still don’t say anything.
“You know I have to bring you to my headquarters if you don’t talk” He says, using his alluring voice on you. You know it’s a lie. He won’t take you to his headquarters if you don’t talk, he will take you there anyway.
You wait. One second, two seconds, five seconds, ten…
You hear a sigh. “Okay then.” And then you hear the unmistakable noise of handcuffs. That’s when you start to shove against him, try to free your wrist, pull away, anything. He holds you in place effortlessly and presses the hand with the handcuffs between your shoulder blades.
“Wanna talk now?”
“Never.”
Another clink of the cuffs, a sudden cool feeling of metal on the free skin of your arm.
“Do I get a wish before you bring me away?” You ask, sounding much cockier than you feel. In fact, your insides are turning upside down, your heart is beating in your throat and your breath is going flat. You’ve never been captured by another organisation because you’ve never been this stupid. Also, maybe it should be mentioned … you haven’t been a spy for that long and it … just never happened.
The agent hesitates, the cuffs rest against your skin.
“You get three wishes darling, use them well.”
Whoa! Does he mean it? Does he really?? Three wishes?
“Let me go” You say, well knowing he won’t do it but why not try. You hear him snort and feel his thumb start brushing your skin again. He really needs to stop doing that or you’ll get yourself into bigger trouble than you need it.
“Nope. That was number one.”
Shit.
Second try. “Tell me your name.”
You expect him to deny that one as well but despite his previous behaviour, he doesn’t miss a beat. “Agent James Buchanan Barnes. Employed at Rogers Investigations, Field agent. Obviously.”
Obviously. The amount of information he is willing to share surprises you and his name … his name rings a bell. Barnes. You have heard that before. You think one of your bosses has mentioned him in a meeting, mostly when discussing Rogers Investigations, figures. You ignore the fact that the side of your face is flat against the wall and think of a third wish.
“I told you this because I just want you to know who exactly has you pressed to his body in an empty hallway and also what the name of your new target is that you will come after as soon as I let you go.”
Did he just say what you think he just said? He will let you go? But didn’t he say he wouldn’t let you go? Maybe he is playing games with you. Will he really let you go??
“Will you let me go?” You ask, sounding very hopeful and not as badass as you wish you would. His face comes closer again, the hand from your upper back disappears and your hair gets softly brushed from your shoulder and tugged behind your ear. Breathe, Y/N!
“Is that wish number three?” He asks lowly and you think you can make out the blue of his eyes out of the corner of your eye.
“Yes.”
For a couple of seconds none of you moves. You can feel his chest rise and sink as he fights an internal battle and finally comes to a decision. You hear a noise and know the handcuffs disappeared.
“Under two conditions” He says and grabs both of your upper arms, so you won’t move but honestly? At this point he doesn’t even have to hold you tight, you’re way too cautious to move anyway.
“Okay?”
“I want you to quit this mission and forget that Susan Ford ever existed. Your bosses will probably assign someone else but you don’t have anything to do with this anymore. I’d rather fight your colleagues than you.”
What does one say to that? If one is in a situation like this, one says Okay.
“Okay” You breathe out and wait for the other condition.
“And I want you to be the one to come after me when your bosses seek retribution for this failed mission and they think they need to send someone to intimidate me” He says and now both of his thumbs caress your upper arms, one of which feels colder than the other and harder. Like metal. It makes you nervous and a little dizzy and you don’t know how to effectively clap back at his cocky demands.
“It’s not in my power” You mumble.
“Well, then try to come up with a plan, darling. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Hmpf. You’re not going to do that but he doesn’t need to know. All you want is to get out of here. So you nod.
“Okay.”
Instead of letting you go, he waits. You don’t know why. And then you hear what sounds like a low chuckle.
“You know I can tell when someone is lying.”
You freeze. Before you can return something, he squeezes your arms.
“Don’t move.”
You hold still. Both of his hands disappear and you feel him step back. Your heart starts beating faster at the opportunity of escape.
“Don’t move” He orders again. You obey. He seems to rummage around in the pockets of his suit and then, “Darling, this is going to be so much fun.”
And then he is gone.
The second you realize he’s not behind you anymore, you twirl around and look around the corner. Empty. Holy fucking shit.
“Y/N? Y/N?? Please answer me! Oh god, I hope you’re not dead! Oh shit!!”
“Tom?”
“OH MY FUCKING GOD, Y/N, ARE YOU ALIVE??”
“Tom, I’m okay! Calm down, I’m okay! I just … I had a little … I, um.” You look around the corner again, “I’m fine.”
****
Forever Tags: @izzy-the-teawitch @wowpeterparker @brightcolorsoffendme @strangequakson @rosegoldquintis @thirdwheelchurchill  @hazel-eyed-bi @goldenkillmonger @yourwonderbelle @hawaiiantozier @irondadandspidersoncute @thirtiethnovember @fancyfangirl-style @appalo0 @lionheo04
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sylph-feather · 2 years
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new me experience update because uhh some of you care about that? Weirdos. This stuff belongs in a therapists journal i think
Man last week wAs fucking crazy ok ok
Thursday: i started the day by seeing some guy in an anonymous mask holding up a tv playing peta vegan propaganda— live chicks getting thrown into a meat grinder with the words “this is standard practice.” I think it says something to the college experience that i didnt particularly question this and kind of forgot it for a while.
Anyways then I went to my classes. Thurs is my busy day: back to back classes basically, psych, lunch, then asl, bio, and finally lab. Nothing notable happened until lab where the TA went on an amazing rant about milk, then gave us bugs to eat, and then we dissected a crayfish. The bugs were cheese & spicy flavored. They were okay. He just handed out packs of them so now i have a pack of spicy bugs. They dont taste like much (if anything they need more flavor dust) and they have an… after texture, because they’re so powdery. Anyways. I got to hold a hissing cockroach (again, ive done that before lol) and also dissect a crawdad (again? Maybe? I mean do you count eating them at a boil as dissection? I kind of dissected it then out of curiosity, but just ate all the bits.)
Anywayssss i saw a poster for halloween karaoke in the town square so some friends and i went. I biked, the 2 of them rode 1 single electric scooter— screaming at every bump, having to do a countdown at every stop light, and yelling highschool musical songs the whole way. I was dying laughing (making biking hard). we got there and the karaoke was SHIT. It was put on by the accapella group and they didnt have a tv or machine or ANYTHING they just sat in a circle and HARMONIZED or WHATEVER. Im not on glee im bad representation in a DIFFERENT way so we went and grabbed ice cream despite it being cold. I was like “oh its well lit and moderately busy so itd probably be fine if i just left my bike against the window cuz it’s well lit and generally busy, but I’ll lock it. Still im sure nobody would steal it” then literally as im saying this some guy comes and stands right behind me breathing down my neck. blatantly inspecting the bike and the lock. I stripped it of the light (the one thing of actual value) then told him “have a goodnight sir.” Then i ordered cherry garcia while watching him circle my bike like a shark and wander off into the night.
Anyways we ate our ice cream laughing about that the whole time, and then went to find a 2nd electric cycle. Because of that we got to see some fun live music in some random weirdly laid out hotel. But because we’re not 21 we had to sit just outside the bar with some old people playing yahtzee to listen. then we all went back to the dorms
Friday was rather slow… worked out and shit. Then i remembered i was invited to some ice skate thing so i did that for the first time. so after working out for an hour i had to bike 2 miles to this thing on the shittiest scariest road ever— no bike lane, dark (it was night) a narrow bumpy sidewalk with no greenway between the street and it. god. It was horrible. And we still did the 2 person electric cycle too. Then it turned out it was more like 3.5 miles of biking jesus christ. Anyways we got there eventually. My friends were good at skating, having been a figure skater & the other a hockey player. Id never been so i sucked. Fell 3x and on the 3rd time i took a guy down with me and fell backwards. After that i gave up pride and used one of those things that make you look like an old person with a walker. Nothing particularly exciting happened otherwise other than i had fun skating for like an hour and a bit, and i still suck at it <3
Either way needless to say after all that: i was fucking exhausted and didn’t want to bike 3.5 miles down hell avenue again. Buses dont run that late. First we talked to a friend with a car with a bike hitch and he wanted $15 for gas money which no fucking way. Then we were ordering an uber and just hoping it would have space for my bike. Then people one of my friends is acquaintances with was like yo you need a ride? So we rode. I rode in the trunk. We got sonic. Problem: there was no space for my bike. Solution: i took every “attachment” (basket, etc) off of it and then left it there. And prayed. Because jesus christ if it got stolen after what happened thursday… i mean it would be funny but also i think i’d have to walk into traffic on the hell road
Saturday, i woke up late and went to the movies with my friend. Caught the bus to the mall, nutsed around there since we got there like 1.5 hrs early. I bought stuff for an inosuke cosplay (yay). Then we saw venom 2. Afterwards i got on the bus, rode as close to the skate place as possible, then walked.. thank god my bike was still there, intact. Immediate next realization: i did not bring my basket. I wore the U-lock (metal U shaped bar) around my fucking neck and held the stuff i bought at the mall in my hands, and biked back 3.5 miles, fully aware that if i fell id probably die either from hell road or the stupid lock.
when i got back i spent a 30 minutes chilling and wishing i was not awake. then i went to play dnd. since waking that day i was only in my dorm for that 30 minutes. anyways then i left halfway through dnd to go try to wander around a random wildlife area looking for owls by playing owl noises. we heard one great horned. we also heard a drunk guy in the forest, singing. saw a raccoon way way high in a tree— and thought it was an owl for a hot 5 mins (because shiny eyes). yanno what else we saw? we briefly went to the wrong parking lot and 100% saw a drug deal going down
sunday my dad came to visit. It wasnt hectic but we walked around a ton and by the end of the weekend i was ready to lay down and sleep for 1,000 years.
anyways thank god my bike wasnt stolen imagine having to explain ANY of this shit to my parents
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mirage-krp · 3 years
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The guardians welcome [ ART, KIT ] to the city of Jeonseol. He is [ A DEMON ] currently living in [ AZURITE ] and working as [ AFTERNOON RADIO HOST ] at [ JEONSEOL FM ] and as [ PROFESSOR ] at [ JEONSEOL UNIVERSITY ].
Welcome to Mirage! Please follow the admin twitter within 48 hours of your acceptance.
Faceclaim : Lee Taeyong (NCT).
Name :
「 vessel 」 Kit Art. 「 demon 」 Fidus Achates.
Alias(es) :
Kit / Kitten / Kitty : most people use one of these to refer to him because his ears often get him mistaken as some sort of cat hybrid or shapeshifter.
Duso : the only people who would know of his actual name and nickname were born centuries ago.
Date of birth :
「 vessel 」 4 November 485. 「 demon 」 unknown.
Age :
「 vessel 」 stopped aging at 25 years old. 「 demon 」 2011 years old.
Species : 
Demon.
hellhound physiology : this ability stuck with him after leaving his original realm, in which he can take the form of a large dog with black fur. (https://i.imgur.com/gsxNLUd.jpg) with this, he has enhanced speed and strength, enhanced sense of smell, retractable fangs, and the ability to howl loud enough to be heard for kilometers.
hellfire manipulation : he can either generate or summon blue flames from his realm (which in Jeonseol’s realm would be considered Hell). these flames can destroy the strongest of materials in a matter of seconds, and it can deplete a person’s spirit.
death whisper : he can hear and see the dead or (in severe cases) those in the midst of dying.
Weakness(es) :
he cannot retract his canine ears or change the color of his dark red eyes.
because he’s using a human vessel to shift into his former hellhound form, it can tire him out to the point of becoming unconscious for days at a time.
if the human vessel is injured severely, he will not be able to shift into hellhound form.
hellfire takes too much energy for his human vessel to control it well. the flames will almost always grow and spread on his own.
the larger the flames, the harder they are to extinguish or settle. if too big, the only solution is holy water or an angel’s assistance.
his human vessel is not fireproof, and he will burn himself if the flames become uncontrollable.
he cannot manipulate regular flames or any other color of hellfire.
he cannot communicate with the dead. while he can see and hear them, his knowledge of their presence is unknown to them.
he cannot differentiate the dead with the living until trying to communicate or attempting to touch them.
the voices and vision of the dead never cease, so he cannot turn this off. this has caused severe insomnia.
Favorite song : babymetal’s GIMME CHOCOLATE!!!
Residence : 11 Azurite Lake.
Occupation :
Jeonseol FM’s afternoon radio host (10am - 4pm) as DJ Kit.
Jeonseol University’s professor of Mythological Creatures (7am - 9am, Tues & Thurs) and Psychology (6pm - 8pm, Mon & Wed).
「 Personality 」
Kit is the type to feel very strongly about everything. There’s no such thing as half-assed with him. If he agrees to do something, he will do it with the utmost effort and 100% of his heart. If he aspires to something, he will become eerily intense and won’t stop until reaching his goal. The word can’t isn’t in his vocabulary. If he puts his mind to it, it’s going to get done. And simply just getting it done isn’t enough for him. It must be perfect — or at the very least, as close to perfect as Kit can manage. Don’t bother giving him any sort of praise either because he’ll completely ignore it until he feels everything is precise. And for those that plan on working for or with him, don’t dare mess up, make a mistake, or even breathe in the wrong direction because Kit will not rest (or let anyone else rest) until each and every part of the project is right.
This pedantic attitude of Kit’s causes him to become something of a bully. He has never been afraid of confrontation, especially if it’s concerning something that matters to him. He will assert himself over the meanest of people. If someone’s prepared to challenge him, they better be ready for the fight of their life. Even when not actively dictating others, Kit can be very intimidating. Good luck trying to even put him in his place because he has a tendency to laugh at people. Literally. He will laugh in the face of higher ups and elders (if anyone is older than him). If there’s no laughing, expect sneering, insulting comments, or straight up being ignored. Unless Kit deems someone worthy (usually those close to him), they shouldn’t expect anything else.
If it wasn’t already made obvious, Kit is extremely difficult to please. This goes for friendship, relationships of any kind, and work ethic. He doesn’t care if someone is earnestly trying their best. If their best isn’t the best, it’s not fucking good enough. And if he cares about a person, he’s going to be extra hard on them. And Kit expects the same treatment in return. Push him to his absolute limit. He’s finicky about everything and anything, and he’s quick to get pissed when things aren’t exactly right. Because he can’t go around being angry all of the time (because things are rarely perfect or close to it), he’s usually filled to the brim with snark and sarcasm.
The enigma that he is, when he’s not judging everything and everyone, he forgives and forgets quite easily. Despite his species, he can be very benevolent when he wants to be. Kit is quick to share with others and has no problem being giving in terms of his time, effort, and friendship. Though hard to gain his respect, it’s very easy to earn his friendship. Because he couldn’t hold a grudge to save his life, even someone that makes a lot of mistakes will receive Kit’s love. Of course… he’ll be angry with them a lot, but that’s just how he shows he cares. It’s among those he loves that his rare moments of softness that’s hidden behind his intimidating exterior comes out. Most who don’t know him well don’t get to see this side of him.
This is a loyal guy. He will stand by the people he loves until the day he dies, good or bad. No matter how much time has passed and  no matter if they aren’t on the best of terms, Kit will always remain faithful to the people who make it into his heart. He will probably do most anything a loved one asks of him.
「 Background 」
Formed by the blue flames of (what some realms would register as) Hell by (who some realms would register as) Lucifer, Fidus Achate was created to be a devoted servant. He was the first Hellhound in his realm, nicknamed The Black Butler for his time as Lucifer’s right hand man. For 5 centuries he served until gaining his freedom and fleeing to Jeonseon’s realm. A human vessel named Kit Art vowed to sell his soul to Lucifer was gifted to Fidus for his loyalty. It took years for Fidus and Kit to get used to each and their new life as a demon. It took almost a century for the two to merge into one conscious being, going by both Kit and Fidus.
From 620 to 1022, he traveled the world. He wanted to learn everything he could about anything he could. He collected different artifacts, and for a time, he even recorded history. However, he found himself getting attached to different humans throughout the years, and suffering through loss after loss after loss. It wasn’t until 1020 that he began to lose his mind with the voices and visions of all those he’d lost in the past haunting him endlessly. Kit burned down an entire country because of his agony, and he fled.
For a couple of centuries, he spent time at the South Pole to cool himself down and heal from the self-inflicted burns. Being around only animals in an uninhabited continent, Kit finally found peace for the first time since entering the realm. After this, he went back to traveling and studying, vowing not to intermingle with humans. He would only interact with species that could live longer lives. If loss seemed near, Kit would merely flee before his emotions could get the better of him.
It wasn’t until fairly recently that he found Jeonseon, overwhelming relief filling him at realizing that there were no humans to die constantly. And though there were still voices and visions haunting him, it was nothing compared to what he experienced in the past. With his millennials worth of studies and collections, he decided to pass along his knowledge to those willing and live a full life.
「 Wanted Connections 」 N/A
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white-queen-lacus · 6 years
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Hey, anon who asked about your work. Thank you for replying. I'd like to know how the story ends. Nice plot tho! ^^
Ok, I totally forgot I had this ask… sorry! ç___ç *busy times*Thank you!! :) I hope you didn’t get annoyed or too much confused… I realized I wrote too many things all together…
Anyway, the story has a happy ending. Basically, since there was a prophecy to fulfill… or better, a promise 500 years old to fulfill, Evan, who is the last descendant of the Delacroix made a deal with the Croix du Lac: in exchange for granting her revenge on people who killed her (well, their descendants), she would release Arabella’s soul. Her entity could not pass out because of a curse placed on her original soul, so she kept on being “alive” for 500 years by feeding on sacrificed little girls. Arabella was the last sacrifice tributed to her, but instead of being confined, this time the Croix du Lac freed herself and used Arabella’s body as a vessel. But since she still believes in the promise her lover made 500 years before (freeing her from the curse and being reunited), she agrees to join Evan’s plan. So, Evan, after having acted under the masked alter ego of Liger (and interacted with Aurore, who thought that her brother was dead), collected the Piéces (the amethyst, the lapis lazuli, the emerald, the ruby, the amber), executed the descendants of the people who killed the Croix du Lac, faced the rebellion arisen from the action of Aurore and the new generation of nobles, and proclaimed himself the new Despot, legitimate by the CdL. During the true Renaissance, Evan, after having paved the way for a new world, sacrificed himself to restore the original nucleus of the star which gave light and life to Esperia (and which was dying again). He proclaimed the birth of the Empire of Neo Esperia, under the guidance of Amber Trenchard, former Duchess of Shelton and now first Empress, then he freed the CdL from her curse by pronouncing her true name (which was erased from her memory as a part of the curse), because only the Delacroix knew it and then he died after having finally saved Arabella, whose he was in love with. Actually, thanks to Greal (who was alive and finally reunited with his family) and the Thurs (an ancient stone from the previous people who populated Esperia, with regeneration powers), Evan’s heart was restored and he could come back home with his family (not before agreeing to be dead for his original world) in Darlington, to Aurore’s joy (not so much Damien’s, since Evan was possessive af XD). Then, happy ending: years later, Aurore, married to Damien, is expecting their first child (a girl) and she has a dream (different from the nightmare of the beginning): she sees Ivy, her daughter, Evan and Arabella’s child, Louis, Amber and Shemar’s daughter, Ethel Sophie, Violet and Ruben’s children,  Ian and Reina, walking all together in a Neo Esperia full of light as the old times, while the Croix du Lac (whose real name was Helise Delacroix) and her lover were watching, finally free and together. :)
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