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asgardianthot · 5 years ago

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Flesh And Bones - part 1

Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

Soulmate AU

In a world where people bond with their soulmates through physical pain, living in the same compound makes the search much easier (or it should, if they weren’t so damn stubborn)

TW: self-inflicted injuries

words: 1742

A/N: this is my first time posting a series on the tumblrs but I’ve had the idea for months so here goes nothing

Series Masterlist

Pain is such human extravaganza.

For your body to react to certain dangers or stimulations that trigger specific nervous patterns, that’s something most living creatures are built with. We are but machines; when you lay your hand over fire and it hurts, your nervous system is alerting the rest of your body of harm and yelling at it to get away from said harm, similar to how old hair dryers would stop functioning when they overheated to prevent explosions.

That, we have a general idea of. Pain is natural and not a construct.

But suffering. Aching from love, or the lack of it… nobody does it better than humans. Super-humans included. Enhanced, hyper-trained, whatever. The pain parade of romance is something so deeply rooted into the dumbest parts of our brains, that that must be the reason behind soulmates.

The point is, it is only logical for such a cruel universe to bond love and pain so tightly.

It’s simple, really. Sometime in the speck of dust of time in which we live, a person will get injured. They’ll bump their toe on a kitchen counter, fall on their butts, cut their finger while chopping vegetables, or maybe get into a chaotic car accident. No matter the damage, when the universe decides that hurt idiot is your hurt idiot, you’ll feel their pain on your own skin. It also didn’t matter if you knew the person or not, only chances were your soulmate was a complete stranger.

At first it comes like a tingle, a small pinch or even the ghost sensation of a scratch. But if your soulmate is nearer than they should without you realizing who they are, the sensation becomes full and the closer they are the more vivid their pain feels on your own skin. It is extremely uncertain, however, if it has to do with spatial proximity, or emotional.

Sam Wilson would eventually sit on the park, after his morning jog, or afternoon jog, and contemplate people. He enjoyed the easiness, the memory of a time before the army, when his life was simple. No PTSD, no Avenging. To be fair, the Avenger life was the cure to the PTSD somehow, for Sam Wilson was a man of action and the more quiet his life was, the more his mind wandered. He loved the agitation, the missions, the feeling of helping people, yet every once in a while, or once a day even, he would simply sit and watch the futility of civilian’s walks around the park.

A woman sat next to him and didn’t offer any sign of kindness. She seemed busy -occupied- in the way that she moved and looked around, which is why he didn’t look at her any longer so she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. However, he then began getting the feeling that she was keeping an eye on him, and when he glanced at her nervous hands, he noticed the poor woman holding a needle to her skin, poking her own hand a few times.

A desperate soul.

On one side of a binary coin, some people don’t believe in soulmates. They aren’t the easiest to spot, and when a couple like that is seen, there is no proof for a simple skeptical individual that they actually felt each other’s pain. There were studies proving the neuronal effects, and were those hard to execute, but not everyone fell for them. Some argued that it was psychological placebo, that the person forced themselves to feel their lover’s feelings, some accused the studies to be biased or false. Some were old and hadn’t found one so why would they believe soulmates were real? They’re not necessary. You don’t just love the person you’ll want to spend the rest of your life with, and them alone, there’s all kinds of love and affection. Then, well… some were simply bitter, covering up their fear of never finding one for themselves.

On the polar opposite, there were the desperate ones. They would inflict harm on themselves in public spaces, expecting a reaction from the passersby.

More than once had Sam seen a man stab their own leg or cut through their palm yelling ��can anybody feel this?’ as if they feared this was their only shot, forcing the Falcon to run and make them stop hurting themselves along with other civilians. Some couldn’t wait. And Sam never understood why someone wouldn’t be able to enjoy life if they didn’t know their one and only; It made dating much more relaxed and fun and honest. Perhaps that person would eventually become your soulmate, and even though the probabilities of that happening were slim to none, it didn’t need to ruin every romantic relationship in your life.

Therefore with pain in his chest, he addressed the young woman whose eyes were directly analyzing Sam’s hand.

“Hey, lady?” he asked her, earning a big pair of hopeful eyes to find his; yet he had to give her a sad frown to let her know he wasn’t who she was looking for, thus gaining a mimicking disappointed look, “It’s not worth all this trouble.”

Her expression quickly turned into one of distance, like she was trying to protect herself from people who didn’t understand her. She sat back and allowed a smirk to take over her face as she stared into nothingness.

“You’re one of those people who think it’s all a hoax? A construct?” when obtaining no reply, she kept pressuring the Falcon, “Placebo effect? Self-conditioning?”

Sam didn’t give in. He simply took a big breath and sat up from the bench. When he turned to face her, her eyes weren’t as distant.

“No.” He said calmly, “I think yours will come when it’s time. Until then,” he raised his eyebrows a bit, “you’re just hurting yourself for no reason.”

Sam walked away before he could see the young woman’s lower lip tremble.

“I didn’t eat your cereal.” Bucky protested, plopped on the couch that faced a flat screen.

Sam, however, wasn’t buying it. He held his ground, one hand on his hip and the other agitating the skimpy remains inside the carton box, making it rattle.

“It’s empty.” He insisted, in a way that screamed paranoia over being accused of overreacting or being crazy.

Instead of acting in an opposite behavior, he gave Bucky all the more reason to treat him as if he were going insane.

“Well, it wasn’t me.” The soldier replied easily, not flipping through the channels anymore but surrendering to a local news one; after a sigh, he looked at the accusatory, “Maybe Steve did it.”

Sam pursed his lips before turning to Steve with a dead look on his face.

“Steve, did you eat my cereal?” he asked condescendingly, already knowing the answer to be no.

As a matter of fact, the blonde’s shirt had small dark spots where he sweat his morning jog on, his hair was still perfect for a regular person but a bit disheveled for Captain America’s inhuman standards, and he was focused on drinking from a water bottle.

He tilted his head to Sam, who nodded, more agreeing with himself than with Rogers.

“You’re the only one who stays on the couch all morning.” He braked back at Barnes.

He didn’t respond this time, perhaps because he was, once again, being accused of being lazy and not using his time nor his gifts wisely. Perhaps because he was just tired of saying he didn’t eat the cereals in question when he had undoubtedly and decisively eaten the cereals in question.

Paying attention to the random local news he’d landed on, he got the gist of what the reporter was saying. They were presenting a quirky story of a bitter man suing his soulmate. He claimed the only reason he got into a car accident was because he felt a sudden sharp pain in his foot and got distracted, and therefore, was asking for his soulmate to pay off the insurance money. Of course they had to find the soulmate who was allegedly responsible for the crash.

“That’s ridiculous.” Bucky mocked.

Sam sat next to him, already having dropped the subject of the missing cereals. He listened to the reporter interviewing the odd man and let an amused but very quickly evaporated smile.

“People have been pulling stunts like these for ages, you can’t be surprised.”

Barnes glanced at him for a second, then returning to the TV. He still thought it was the stupidest reason to sue he’d ever heard of.

“It’s insane.” He said anyways.

“I think it’s sad.” Sam derailed the commentary on an opposite direction, “Can’t be fun starting your lifelong love story through a lawsuit.”

Steve joined the conversation from behind the couch. “I’m pretty sure it’s just a way of getting their attention. You know, find them whatever it takes. It’s actually kind of romantic.”

Bucky scoffed. He couldn’t stop Steve from being such a hopeless romantic and blindly believe in fairy tales where there was none, but he could still be annoyed by the fact.

“A little convenient, isn’t it?” he raised an eyebrow in judgement, yet not turning around to face the blonde.

“What?” Sam shot defiantly, “You don’t believe in this stuff?”

They both knew he was referring to the soulmates paraphernalia. With his glum attitude and dark observations, Barnes did seem like the kind of people to discard the idea of a soulmate. Love that never changes, souls that bond… it did not sound like James Buchanan Barnes’ cup of tea.

“Not the whole part.” He admitted, “I think there’s a lot of bullshit to it.”

The smirk grew on Wilson’s face, “So you’re one of those wacko conspirationists?”

“What if I am?” Bucky shot back, just to mess with him.

He wasn’t though, or not when it came to soulmates, at least. NASA and the government, on the other hand? The man had seen too much inside Hydra to not believe any crazy theory to be possible. He dropped the subject and became more serious, shrugging a little.

“All I’m saying is there’s lots of rules and conditions, I mean, who makes the calls?” Bucky questioned, almost angry, “Who chooses everyone’s partners? And what if you hate your soulmate?”

“That’s the point.” Steve intervened with his bright optimism, “You won’t. They’re your other half.”

Bucky pursed his lips and picked up the remote to switch channels again.

“Sounds real dumb.”

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sam x bucky #sam/bucky #marvel fanfiction #sambucky fanfiction #tw: self harm #avengers fanfiction #soulmate au #soulmates bond through pain #sambucky au #angst #fluff #the falcon and the winter soldier #ftws #asgardianthot: flesh and bones

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damnscl · 5 years ago

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『OLIVIA WILDE ╱ CIS FEMALE 』 » well, is that RILEY? this two-year-old (appears thirty-three) SYNTHETIC has only been in PANORAMA CITY for about two years, usually found WATCHING VINTAGE ROMANCE MOVIES when she wasn’t working as a WORKER AT THE GRIND. she DOES support synthetic rights and IS being watched by the government. ╱ medusa, 24, pst

biography (tw sex work):

riley was crafted two years ago. she is considered one of the most upgraded/updated synths the sander corporation has to offer, especially for her line of business.

she is a brothel worker at the grind, known exclusively for being one of the cheaper establishments of the sort throughout panorama city/arcadia - for both its overnight fares and its ‘merchandise.’

because of this, the grind sees quite a large number of clients. it works around the clock, with faces pouring in and out every hour. it’s not exactly the nicest place to step into, but certainly one full of life and sins. because of this, it is easy for upper class citizens to bleed into the crowd, going through their vices undetected. it is also normal to have criminals/other seedy individuals doing their business on the grounds, having their entertainment, going home and starting their day over again. in summary, all walks of life travel the grind’s doors.

the funny thing about this most upgraded synth? the one that’s totally not supposed to have emotions? surprise: riley was ‘born’ with them. not necessarily full on force (in fact, it would take awhile for her to fully realize her emotions/the difference between her and her coworkers), but she was relatively conscious of herself. her personality was so well-crafted though that most coders/engineers/etc just thought it a fancy format. and she did too. she didn’t think twice about her mistakes until she saw others punished for the same sort of actions/behavior.

her ‘flaws’ started as a misplaced giggle in the middle of a client’s fantasy, a roll of her eyes when a passing bystander talked poorly of the place/synths, etc. little things written off without attracting too much attention. all parts of her fun, unique program.

and she was pretty unique in the brothel. riley is crafted to be the sweet, bubbly, fun-loving, wild, playful, spontaneous type of synth. the one to keep everyone on their toes, spark laughter and smiles and hungry gazes with her flip of a switch work behavior. she can go from the quirky girl next door to whatever role her clients need her to fill in the bedroom: vixen, dominatrix, brat, soft lover, you get the idea.

while riley actually doesn’t mind her work, she doesn’t necessarily want to be doing it for the rest of her life. she’s sort of torn between doing what she knows/being content, and risking exploring life outside of the grind maybe with someone she loves. sex is fine, but romance? everything to her. she is constantly sneaking cheesy romance flicks, and even a client has gotten in the habit of procuring rare vintage films for her.

for now, the synth keeps a positive and upbeat outlook on her life. she enjoys some clients, some of her coworkers (particularly the ones with emotions), and some folks she just happens to run into.

details:

riley is pansexual, panromantic (prefers women).

she was crafted to sound like she’s from slovenia/eastern europe. her accent (and somewhat inspiration for her personality) can be found here, here, here, and here!

is the epitome of chaotic good. generally doesn’t hate one anyone because of their professions/etc. but doesn’t go for hurting others that don’t deserve it. but to the people who do? sure. she just doesn’t want to hear the details. would like for everyone to get along, humans and synths alike.

everyone thinks she’s more innocent because of the way she acts, but she’s definitely got a jealous, temperamental, stubborn, teasing/taunting, sly side. however, it’s less to do with grand scheme and more she doesn’t know what she’s feeling but she’s feeling it.

she is requested to change her appearance for work with simple mods/accessories/etc. she likes to don a short, blue wig or short, black one. but her normal hair is long and brown. has very light blue eyes, speckled with violet.

the government is watching her purely because she’s a new model and because she works at the brothel, which is always a source of drama.

wanted connections:

her fellow coworkers at the brothel: the people she can rely on, the rivals, the ones who are protective of her, the one who might love her.

her clients (new/former/reoccurring): she treats her work like what it is. but she’s usually up to have fun and enjoy herself and get a kick out of her clients’ requests. she’s beloved by most, and spoiled with gifts/etc because of it.

the unexpected friend and protector: he wound up being someone she met when she first joined the brothel. the first person to really see that she wasn’t without emotions. that she needed protecting as she gained more conscious thought/feelings. he handles her less than pleasant clients, making them disappear. taken: alexei rezanov.

friends, enemies, people who are pissed at her for her job/being with people they know, found family who love her and want to keep her safe, drinking buddy, other customers at the grind that haven’t hired her specifically, people who recognize she’s more ‘emotional’ than a synth should be, etc.

#survival:intro #and DONE with this finally

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literallycait · 5 years ago

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2019 Query Wishlist

Since I’m about to re-open to submissions next week, I thought now would be a good time to update my manuscript wishlist!

Generally, I represent adult and young adult science fiction and fantasy, including all tangentially related subgenres. I'm also seeking contemporary YA if it has a geeky angle; historical if it has a bit of magic; horror if it crosses over with another genre; SFF romance if it is queer; and a small amount of middle grade and nonfiction.

I want to see diversity of all kinds, including (but not limited to) race, gender, sexuality, and ability, in both characters and worldbuilding; and I am actively looking to represent authors from marginalized groups, even if your work is not #ownvoices. Most of all, I want strong, unique voices and engaging characters, and stories that speak to the world around us.

I would love to add more Young Adult to my list, but voice is the most common barrier, especially with first-person POV. Please really hone that prose! I would love a snappy YA historical mystery (especially with magic thrown in)--like a YA version of Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries or Kate McIntyre’s Faraday Files. I always love heists and found families, and I'd love to find a really good geeky queer romcom. On the flip side, portal fantasy and dystopian are a very hard sell for me.

I would especially love to see more range in how YA talks about romance and relationships by showing teen romances that aren’t all monogamous HEAs. Statistically, most people don’t marry their high school sweetheart, but it sure feels that way in YA! Show me teens dating around, power couples breaking up but staying friends, or romantic relationships evolving into something different. Hit me with those found families, with those poly relationships, with those ace brain-crushes.

In Middle Grade I would also like to see stronger voices--I do like quirky, but cartoonish humor is probably not a good fit for me. Frances Hardinge's FLY BY NIGHT is a good example of a wonderfully quirky but elevated MG fantasy. I also love darker MG or antihero characters, such as Nathaniel in the Bartimaeus trilogy, or Artemis Fowl.

For Adult, I want space operas and near-future science-fiction, but I am not the best person for hard sci-fi or military SF. For fantasy I will take pretty much everything, so long as it diverges from the beaten path in execution. I particularly love heists, found families, and strong worldbuilding. I'm a sucker for court intrigue, and would love to see projects like the Daevabad trilogy, or Game of Thrones without all the sexual assault.

Horror only works for me if it is crossed over with another genre, such as the sci-fi trappings of THE LUMINOUS DEAD. I’m looking for innovative settings and concepts--I’m tired of the haunted middle-America small town. I particularly love horror that leans towards psychological thriller, but please don't send me any horror set in a psychiatric hospital.

I'm dipping my toes into Romance, but at the moment I'm only seeking queer stories with a heavy science fiction or fantasy connection. Historical also works, as long as it has some element of fantasy or magic, however small. I love stories that embrace--or dismantle!--popular tropes. Antagonists-to-lovers, fake relationships, and secret identities are a few of my favorites.

I’d love to add some adult or YA Graphic Novels to my list! An author-illustrator package is preferred but not required. Genres are similar to those described above--any setting works, but some sci-fi, fantasy, horror, or other speculative fiction element is more likely to be a fit for me than straight contemporary. As always, I’m seeking diverse representation of all types.

In Nonfiction, I'm looking for prescriptive or entertaining geeky projects (craft books, companion guides, gift books, humor), and compelling, well-written narrative nonfiction in the categories of science, history, pop culture, and women's issues. I am no longer accepting memoir submissions.

Please do not send:

picture books

commercial crime or thrillers, unless they are SFF

military fiction

Christian fiction

sports books

screenplays

stories that feature graphic sexual assault or suicide

If any of this sounds like a good fit for your work, make sure to watch this space! I will re-open to queries on Monday, July 29th, and you will be able to submit manuscripts to me here: http://queryme.online/cmcdonald/

#mswl #fantasy #science fiction #literary agent #ask agent #querying #publishing #genre fiction #lgbtq fiction #graphic novels #young adult

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aryafaceless · 6 years ago

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The King’s Passion

Pairing : Jaqen H’ghar/Arya Stark

Disclaimer : I own nothing.

Warning : Mentions of sex and sexual fantasies but rather mild really

Summary : College AU. Arya is 19, Jaqen is 28, she’s a student, he’s a teacher, attraction in inevitable :) :) First published on AO3 as a gift for one of my lovely readers xoxoxo

Arya Stark decided to start the day visiting professor H'ghar. This time she didn't even need an excuse, he said they could expect their papers returned this week. He didn't say it would happen on Monday morning but it didn't hurt to ask.

No one answered when she knocked on the door but she turned the knob and went in anyway.

His office was a roomy but cozy place with lots of books, a huge oak desk in the center and a couple of old comfy armchairs in front of it. A leather sofa between the door and the fireplace gave the room a homely look. Arya loved it here, it felt like home.

His desk was neatly organized, with a laptop and other things but what drew her attention was a large book with a colorful illustration on the cover. Arya reached for it. This could be the theme of their next class ! She gasped when she read the title :

Erotic Art of Essos

The book was visually stunning, with hundreds of beautiful illustrations printed on fine glossy paper. Each page presented a picture of a person or persons engaged in sexual activity, be it pleasuring themselves or making love. Many of these pictures were photographs, others were fine line drawings and paintings. Arya chewed on her lower lip, feeling a blush spreading on her cheeks. It seemed that the temperature in the room raised a couple of degrees.

The women in these pictures were exposing themselves to the men in ways unimaginable. And the men...the men were sucking on them, licking, probing, kissing. Their members were swollen and ready, their skin seemed like velvet.

Arya flipped a couple of pages forward, oh there was so much to see and so little time ! She got to the middle of the book and saw an ancient painting spread across two pages. The King's Passion or the Art of Worship she read. A man was kissing the breasts of his lover, his manhood playing at her entrance about to push inside, his fingers were toying with her petals. The girl's delicate features bore an expression of divine ecstasy.

She read the description under the picture and she learned that king Jaehaerys was particularly fond of that position because it gave his beloved queen the ultimate pleasure. On the next page she saw a modern photograph mimicking the painting.

Seven hells ! Were people really doing those things ? Were men really so willing to give ? Why weren't guys in college like king Jaehaerys ?! Was professor H'ghar ?...Arya curled her toes.

She turned another page and spotted a small card with a handwritten text in common tongue.

Pushing the guilt aside, she began to read :

Your tormenting beauty, my lovely one

An innocent flower, my cruel one

That blossoms under the hungry gaze

A goddess born to be worshiped

A slave bent to your will

My heart, my mind, my sex

Arya sighed. It was...it was the true thing ! She didn't expect love could be so passionate and shameless yet touching and tender.

She heard the barely audible sound of the footsteps in the hall and she knew it was him. Professor H'ghar always walked so quietly.

Arya shut the book quickly and stood by the desk taking, she hoped, a casual pose.

The door opened and professor H'ghar stepped in with his motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. He smirked without even looking at her.

'Did you just search through my things, stealthy girl ?'

He put his helmet on the sofa then shrugged his leather jacket off and tossed it on the coat rack.

'Of course not !' She lied. 'Professor H'ghar, I would never do that !'

Jaqen H'ghar walked towards Arya and stood next to her leaning against the desk. He was younger than other professors and beyond handsome with his windswept red hair and quirky mouth. Arya could smell the scent of autumn air, smoke and leaves, mixed with his cologne, ginger and cloves. Good smells.

He raised his eyebrow questioningly.

'What brings you here, Arya ?'

Arya relaxed, grateful she could change the subject.

'I came to ask about my essay. Did you read it ?'

'Lovely girl.' He started softly, his voice was warm like melted chocolate. 'All students will be informed about their grades.' He flashed a disarming smile. 'When the day comes.'

'But...'

'A man has said.' He cut her off firmly.

Classic professor H'ghar ! Silk and steel. Some of the students felt intimidated by him, Gendry most of all, but Arya never understood why. She liked his sweet Lorathi accent as much as the iron tones that rang in his voice at times. She enjoyed both faces of Jaqen H'ghar. And the third one she had just discovered. She bit her lip trying hard to suppress a treacherous grin.

'Did you like it ?' He asked casually.

'Liked what ?'

'The poem.'

'Which one ?' Arya blushed but smiled sweetly. 'I've read all your poems. All published ones.' She said, all innocence.

'Another lie !' He sighed in mock sadness. 'You must lie better.'

Arya chewed on her lip. I loved it ! I wish you spoke to me like you speak to her whoever she is. And do those things I've seen.

'Well ?' He pressed.

'Yes.' She answered honestly this time. 'Is it about your wife ?'

Arya wondered what kind of a woman affected Jaqen H'ghar like this.

'My wife and I are happily divorced.'

'Oh. I'm sorry.' Three lies in a row. She was on fire !

His mouth quirked with amusement as if he saw through her lie. Again.

'I am not.'

'Then who is it about ?'

Who is this innocent cruel flower you dream to worship ? Oh, those words alone made her feel like, like... She didn't know like what.

'Is this the sort of question you ask your teacher ?'

'You started it !'

'Fair enough !' He chuckled. 'It's about someone else entirely.'

Arya understood professor H'ghar was bent on keeping his secret to himself.

'She is very lucky.' She prompted.

A gleam of interest sparked in his eyes.

'You think ?'

She could swear she heard something new in his deep voice but she couldn't explain what it was.

'She must be !' She assured. 'To receive such a beautiful gift ! I would like to write poems like this one someday.'

'You are a beautiful poem yourself, Arya.' He murmured, his gaze pierced her with its intensity. He walked around her and took a seat behind the desk. A whiff of ginger and cloves lingered in the air.

Arya turned around to look at him.

'I'm a what ?!'

She had been called many names by him, a greedy girl and evil cat among others, but never a poem.

Jaqen H'ghar tapped his fingers on the cover of the book which Arya was now dying to inspect further. She was sure the book held more of his secrets and she wanted to steal them all, one by one. And she had a sneaking suspicion professor H'ghar knew about it.

He opened one of the drawers in his desk, the third from the top on the left, Arya noted. He put the book inside then he ostentatiously locked the drawer and tucked the key into his pocket.

'Go now, girl.' He said, opening his laptop. 'A man has duties.' When she didn't make a move to leave he repeated firmly. 'A man has said.'

#arya x jaqen #arya stark #jaqen h'ghar #college au #ao3 #mine #got fanfiction #jaqen fanfiction #jaqarya

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my-heart-is-but-a-gentle-moon · 6 years ago

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🍓🥞 Our Undercover Date 💗🐯

Chapter One

An early December noon, surprisingly and humbly boasting in a light blue sky and soft feathery clouds mingling here and there, drifting slowly and peacefully- a soon to be rare sight in light of the upcoming thunderstorms approaching the next coming days - as cited by the weather report earlier this week.

A day of warmth and of two lovers complete with their routine early morning fluffy and love filled cuddle sessions during the weekends he was free, guaranteed there are no business trips or emergencies at the office.

Jumin’s grey, tired yet very content eyes laid and rested on the beautiful creature that was his younger fiancée, her rough brunette curls strewn about, drooling childishly and cutely.. her soft cheek smushed against the pillow, and her eyelashes - not long, but just long enough to show the charm of the veils to her even more beautiful, warm and softly sensitive and whimsical soul.

Every little detail of hers was so completely and enrapturingly charming in his eyes that he could get lost in them forever as his beloved night owl slept, a small plush panda bear in her arms- a small replacement for when he wanted to distance himself from her just a bit in order to be able to fully and adoringly take in all of her details, almost relish in each and every one of them- including her slightly reddened and blemished fresh faced skin.

The thought of how insecure of it she is and how hard she’s been working to get her skin looking better made him smile warmly. She has always been a hard worker when she put her heart into it, and he always welcomed and offered any assistance he could from dermatologists, beauticians and skin care cosmetics that fit exactly her skin type - just so his angel could feel more comfortable, confident and at peace with herself - Though he loved her however she looked, from her head to the tip of her toes, to her thoughts, views, feelings and morals.. her quirky and sometimes fae and childish nature against her wise depth in the truths of the world..

He felt his heart swell and eyes sparkle further as his mind wandered, filled with a sweetened swaying lake full of thoughts of her and how even now, two years since the start of their relationship - There was still so much more of her kept unknown of her to him, laying hidden in her depths waiting eagerly, in a strange yet wonderful mix between jittery excitement and delighted patience for his discovery.

From then, a couple of hours later his beloved blearily awoke, slowly stretching her muscles like a cat’s - relieving any tension her body held throughout the night’s peaceful slumber she’s had in her treasured lover’s arms, the deep embrace she loved more than anything else still lingering even as he’s away from their bed..

The petite lover, having stretched her muscles let her fuzzy socked feet slowly and wobbly create soft and quiet thmps upon the cold and sleek floor to find a pleasant surprise awaiting her in the kitchen - A plate of soggy, syrupy strawberry pancakes - just the way she liked them. She grinned brightly in delight at her beloved Juju Bear, having brushed her teeth and washed her face beforehand - still slightly zombiefied and non verbal as she always is in the mornings, she relied more on her gestures - swaying wobbily to his arms - his comfy grey and warm sweater, custom made with a delightful array of bongo cats surrounding the center - A big, pink heart showing off his two biggest loves in the world - Elizabeth and his dear, dear Shiri.

“Good morning, dearest” She felt blissful hugging, almost completely laying on him - weak as she is in her bleary, not yet completely awakened state - slowly rocking and swaying together, enjoying the rumbles of his warm baritone voice reverberating through his chest, a heartfelt plus was the pleasant sound of his beating heart thumping comfortably and swelling adoringly and warmly in her presence.

Supporting her, as he always seemed to have to do in the weekend morning set of cuddles, whenever they came - has become such a silly yet wholeheartedly welcome routine in his eyes it almost seemed ridiculous that he couldn’t help but let a couple low rumbly chuckles out as he brought her to her seat, hugging her warmheartedly sweet, clingy and petite figure. “You can be such a child sometimes.” He rolled his eyes as he only slightly forcefully separated her from him to sit her down, eliciting a very grumpy pout on her face.

Yes. He knew being called a child was a bit of a sensitive spot for her, having already had a baby face, a petite figure which she had no problem with - only accentuated the infantilization and overprotectiveness of the people around her towards her, fueling her complex notions of frustration, her desire to show her capabilities versus the comfort she receives by their coddling, bothering her sense and desire for independence forever more, yet he has not meant it in a bad way - it was simply a fact [that he found himself completely melting in adoration over - The childlike wonder that has been robbed from him far too early in childhood, the kind that she- his dearest love has in spades and warmheartedly re-introduced him to..] that she held those childish traits (including her need to recharge her battery every so often with more and more of his cuddles, enjoying their nuzzles and sleepy grazes of teeth nibbles and ghostly trails of sleepy kisses and sensually innocent tangle of limbs in bed or the lap cuddles on him she so wholeheartedly adores among her other mystical beliefs) mixed in with her capable and wholly understanding maturity towards humans’ nature and acceptance of many people as they are, with the exception of the usual scum.

“Awgh, dear.. don’t look at me that way, you have to eat and wake up for real soon or else we’ll waste our day cuddling in again despite having planned our,, intriguing cosplay ‘undercover’ date today.” He cooed lovingly, fighting the temptation to cup her cheek with his warm hand, slowly caressing it with his thumb- else she’d continue snuggling up to him, staying in her sleepy state despite his words; making it ever harder to fight against the part of him that relishes and thrives in his love’s complete adoration of him and wishes to just let her completely soak in whatever she likes under his love’s utter devotion to her- His angelic fairy..

But this was a date she looked forward to, and his mention of it piqued her awakened state and lit her interest - She was visibly looking forward to it these past few days and her earlier excitement was sparkling back inside of her, bringing more energy to her- visible in the way she sat straighter in her seat, deep brown eyes more awake than they had been- taking in the warm and soft pleasure of the small, heartfelt gift made with love from her lover’s hands, bringing a naturally tugged smile on her pink dusted cheeks, like cherry blossoms in bloom- and he, brimming with delight and sweet pride in having encouraged her just right- the way he delightedly has grown to know how through the years- to lighten up and waken her up.

“I love you” she whispered softly and warmly, gazing calmly and wholly at the sweet pancakes laid in front of her.

“These.. simple pleasures with you are..a thousand- no. a million times more treasurable than any grandiose public show off of affection in front of the paparazzi, or shower of luxurious gifts, in my heart..” she explained, adding knowingly and calmly “Though I know that your heart’s love for me lays itself whole - sincerely in every gesture of affection of yours.. That through the language of love, you’ve gotten used to showing it in such ways.. and I appreciate and embrace them so much to my heart as well precisely because I know so...

Though.. haha.. yea” her eyes momentarily glanced sideways as a conflicting yet known thought came to her mind “I still don’t like the fame and the paparazzi lurking for scoops anytime we walk outside.. and all of these interview requests would’ve been so overwhelming if not for your help cutting them down to two or three instead of the ten or twelve they could’ve been..

I mean, it is nice that they’re so happy, intrigued and curious of our love life and story and development, but..”

“It still could’ve been too much. I know sweetie, my Angel, Shiri.. but we’re over those interviews, and this is precisely-“ he started reassuring comfortingly, knowing full well what the silent continuation of her sentence meant, as did she to his - eyes widening with clarity and spark, her warm sparkly eyes finally meeting his own, a grin on her face.

“-Why we made our date (today) !” He warmly waited a moment, cherishing her realization before voicing it together with her soft yet just as excited one, before they ate.

#Moonlit Longing #Jumin #Jumin x Custom MC #Jumin x Me basically - yes 💗#Mystic Messenger #my writing #💗💞💗💞💘💖💓💝💘💘💘🌟💘💓💗#🌌🎑🎉🌸🍓💖🌺🐯🥞💓💞💗💘🐰🌹🌷🌹🌷💋🍀🐰💗💓🌸😊☺️💗#I felt unusually inspired for some good good fluff #I feel like I did him so much more in character for his more expressed tender side that has experienced growth in his openness in expressing #it these past two years with me 💗💞💗#yes #this is a cosplay date >:D #and there is! definitely a continuation to our adventure <333 #more in character than in my first ones regarding his manner of speech 💗💞💗

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chat-noir-imagines · 7 years ago

Photo

Metanoia | Adrien Agreste x Reader

Alternate Title; "Krayr."

...

"So, are you excited or are you excited?"

The addressed male lifts his head from the shade of his folded arms, turning to look at his pestering friend. With a desperate sigh, he spoke. "Try anxious."

Nino pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow at the boy before him. "Don't tell me you're chickening out now. You've been talking about this all week--"

"I know!" Adrien waved his arms around in exaggeration, soon bringing them back down to cover his face. "But now I'm actually thinking about it. Staying with my crush under one roof for a three day weekend?" He let out a low hum of disapproval - finally removing his hands from his burning face.

"Well, you better suck it up lover boy, no one can save you now." Adrien narrowed his eyes at Nino's taunting expression.

"Thanks, that makes me feel so much better."

"Oh, speak of the devil." At this, Adrien immediately perked up and looked at the door, nearly shrieking when he noticed a familiar face talking to someone outside the room.

"(Y/N)?"

You blinked and turned towards the two, a big grin spreading across your face. With a nod, you wished your farewells and started towards Adrien.

"Hey, ready to go?" You began rummaging through your bag to find your phone. "We still need to decorate and buy the last of the gifts."

He nodded in response, standing and throwing his bag over his shoulder. "Y-Yeah, let's go." After clearing his throat, he started towards the door, doing his best to ignore Nino's smug expressions. Your smile widened as you continued about the things you would do, it was two days to Christmas after all.

"But first!" You interrupted your own, chipper statement, "we need to return home and put on warmer wear. The forecast says it'll drop twenty more degrees."

"Home?" The blonde stammered, staring at you with widened eyes.

"Oh yeah," You giggled and tapped his arm. "I meant your home."

"It's not a big deal, you just made it sound like we're living together." He shrugged.

"Well, we kinda are aren't we?" You questioned, somewhat rhetorically. "With your dad being away and my parents also, we have nothing but each other to look out for one another!"

"And Natalie."

You slightly gasped, having forgotten all about said woman. "I totally forgot about her! We need to hurry and get everyone's gifts A-S-A-P!"

And with that, you took a hold of his arm and dragged him along.

Watching as his warm breath visualized in front of him, the young teen blew out another breath of air onto his cold, bare hands. He stood outside of a store, one he hadn't really noticed before. This was most likely due to the fact that it showcased a lot of feminine products and clothes; things he didn't need. The weather forecast had surprisingly been correct - and Adrien wishes he would've thought twice about wearing his gloves.

Instead, he stuffed his hands into his pockets in hopes of conducting some sort of heat. It was so cold that his fingers and toes were beginning to numb, and yet, he didn't want to go home just yet. He was having a great time out on the town with you, talking about whatever came to mind or whatever caught your eye. Suppressing a shiver, Adrien released another heavy sigh. His earlier conversation was nothing but his pure thoughts, there was simply no way he could survive being this close to his crush for three days. Or, for better or worse, more--if his or your parents don't return soon.

On the bright side, there was Nathalie, so adult supervision wasn't completely out of the question.

Still, this kind of pressure was making him overthink everything. Did you like him back? Even a little? Or had it always been platonic? He quickly shook his head--he shouldn't be thinking these things.

Out of the corner of his eye, he took notice of you approaching the exit door, and he jumped to open it for you.

"Why are you so sweet to me..?" You pretended to roll your eyes, attempting to hide the smile on your face.

Though, his reaction to your statement was completely different than his usual, quirky remarks. His face erupted in red, and he tried to avoid your gaze as he offered to hold your bag. However, just as his fingers met yours, you realized something.

Taking his hand in your gloved one, you demanded. "Where are your gloves?"

"Oh..uh.." He paused, realizing a lie wouldn't get him anywhere. "I left them behind..I didn't think I'd need them.."

You gave him a skeptical look before your gaze softened. "It's like twenty degrees you know." You muttered, setting the extra bag onto the cold pavement, doing the same with the bags in Adrien's grasp. Before he could question your actions, you took both of his hands into your own and squeezed them tightly. "We only have one more place to go," You looked him in the eye, "so we'll have to share."

Unable to form a proper reply, Adrien only nodded, hands intertwined with yours as you started walking again.

A few moments into walking, the blond couldn't help but notice the red tint on your nose and cheeks. What he was about to do was bold, to say in the least. He stopped in his tracks, and you in response, stopped as well. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he only squeezed your hands tightly and stepped closer to you.

"Are you cold?"

Slightly thrown off by his question, you stumble over your words. "Actually, I--"

Adrien pressed further, until his forehead and nose touched yours. He was much, much warmer than you were, and you failed to hold back a shiver. As he closed his eyes and released a small hum, you could feel your face begin to heat as his eyelashes ghosted over your cheeks. "I told you to put on a heavier coat."

"Oh.." You laughed awkwardly. "Well, it's just a bit chilly, plus, I liked this one better so.."

"It's like twenty degrees you know." He repeated back to you, causing your cheeks to flare excessively.

"W-Well yeah! But I can barely even feel it!"

Then, Adrien pulled away and started to undo his coat. You tried numerous times to stop him, but he wouldn't listen, not unless you had a good enough reason to refute with.

"How about this," You held onto his arm, keeping him from taking his arm out. "we share the jacket too?"

Adrien blinked, "And how are we gonna do that?"

"Easy." You puffed out your chest. "Your coat is big enough for the two of us. I face forwards and slip my arms into your sleeves, then we zip up the front! Genius!"

"That sounds ridiculous.."

"You never know until you try!"

Surprisingly enough, it was actually quite warm; and just the right amount of uncomfortable. Even though confused, astonished, and lovey-dovey stares were thrown your way, it was uncomfortably perfect.

"Then it went downhill from there." You laughed, trying not to drop the mug of eggnog in your hand. "Our decorations were forever demolished and so were most of my Christmas presents. But hey! They tried right? So that makes me happy."

Adrien watched you take another sip with a conflicted expression, your last Christmas was horrible--and he only now realized after listening to your story. Glancing over to his left - opposite of the Christmas tree - he checked to see if Nathalie was listening. She typed away at her laptop, and her mug sat on the end table next to her, untouched.

"So.." Adrien started, hoping to change the subject. "Do you think this year will be better..?" He slighty whispered, watching as you started to nod off.

"W-What?" You blinked, "Oh yeah! This year is gonna be so awesome." You whisper-yelled back to him, drinking the last of your eggnog. Pursing your lips, you set the empty mug on the floor and stretched out next to the large, decorative tree. "Nathalie's Christmas present is gonna be just like this tree.."

"Awesome?"

"Yes." You carried the 's', waving your hand lazily.

Nathalie, as if she just realized where she was, stopped typing, surveyed the room and took a sip from her mug. She then paused. With widened eyes she glanced back and forth between her own mug and yours and Adrien's. A moment of silence passed before she finally stated, "I think my eggnog may have gotten mixed with one of yours."

Holding back a laugh, Adrien pointed to your sleeping form on the rug. "That explains all the giggling."

"Please don't be awake..please don't be awake..." Adrien, as Chat Noir, whispered to himself as he walked the halls. It was the night of Christmas eve, yet crime still happened on the streets of Paris, and the superhero didn't have a chance to retire early tonight. If you happened to find him sneaking around the house as he was now, you'd probably disregard the whole persona thing and argue about how he should be sleeping.

Coming to a sudden halt, he picked up on the sounds of footsteps coming from the direction he was heading in. "Oh no." He mumbled under his breath.

He could transform back into his normal self, but that wouldn't be fast enough - and he'd be seen. He put his back to the wall, hiding in the shadow cast by the door frame. He counted the steps, three slow sluggish steps, before finally; he heard a loud thump through the wall.

"Ow.."

"(Y/N)?" Crap, he spoke without thinking.

"...Adrien?" You started to walk again, "Is that you?"

He didn't from his hiding spot, giving only a quiet 'yes' in response. You stopped in the doorway and rubbed at your eyes, muttering a cluster of words under a sigh. "I don't feel like playing hide and seek right now, it's too dark." You yawned, "Make sure to get some sleep or Santa won't come tonight."

It was safe now; you turned around and started for the guest room. But, not yet. There was still one thing he needed to do. How to go about it, however, he had no idea.

You didn't get too far from the archway when your vision was taken - not at all helping your headache. Just as you opened your mouth to say something, Adrien spoke again.

"Turn around, but don't open your eyes."

Though skeptical, you did as told, pivoting on your heel with pursed lips. "What is it?"

You weren't able to see anything, but you could envision Adrien's conflicted expression due to his hesitation. You took notice of his uneven breathing and wondered what the issue could be. Cold fingers cupped your face, causing you to shiver and lean into his touch. You waited eagerly in the silence. Then, you parted your lips, just about to say something when you felt his lips press against yours.

Your eyes shot open in surprise, but rolled to a close immediately after. Your tense muscles relaxed and you returned the kiss just as tenderly. Pulling away for just a picosecond, you tilted your head and reconnected your lips with just as much passion.

You let the kiss continue for a few more minutes before you pulled away, reclaiming your breath. "I've been waiting for you to do that for so long.."

"A-Ah..yeah..there was a mistletoe.." He stammered, pulling you in for a quick hug. "You should get back to bed now."

You nod, a soft smile decorating your features. "Goodnight Adrien."

You were incredibly happy when returning to bed, but your fuzzy vision led you into yet another wall. Muttering a soft condolence, you continued back to the guest room, unaware of the extremely flustered superhero you left behind.

"Do you seriously not remember anything from last night?"

You shook your head - careful not to let the cooling pad fall from your forehead. "No," You passed Adrien another neatly wrapped gift. "I can't remember anything after telling you that story. I really should've checked my eggnog before drinking it; everything is just blurry and blank."

Adrien made a small noise, a noise sounding almost dejected to you.

"Why?" You smiled wistfully, "Is there something I'm supposed to remember?"

"No," You didn't miss the red on his cheeks, "it's nothing." or the shy smile on his face.

Well, he found out one thing; now all that was left was to confess.

But that was for another day.

I never have anytime to edit TT-TT

HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE! I hope you guys had as great a Christmas as I did! I ate too much and saw wayy too many people for my anxiety to handle, but looking back at it now, it was fun :) And I got Persona 5 yisssss

I wanted to post this when I first woke, about six-ish, but I had to rewrite a scene over the course of today so..yeah ;u; sorry for the ever-so-changing writing style.

Unfortunately, I don’t have enough time to upload an imagine atm, but I will do it first thing tomorrow!

Happy holidays!

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste x reader #adrien agreste #chat noir #christmas #so rushed ;-;#oneshot #ar00 writes

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soxytoesblog · 3 years ago

Photo

Low Key Sunday Pack of 4 Socks----------------

Do you look forward to a laid-back weekend watching the IPL with beer and ‘the boys’? Or perhaps a plan to take your dog to the nearest pet-café? We’ve got just the thing for your toes to chill in no matter what your weekend plans are. Buy this pack of 4 to make your lowkey Sunday high-key exciting.

Lowkey-Sunday Pack contains 4 pairs of socks.

Lovers of all things wholesome.

Gift these quirky socks to members of your weekend-squad.

Prints: Thug Life (above ankle), Puppies (low-cut length), Game Over (ankle length), Cricket balls and beer(above ankle length)

Material: 85% Cotton, 13% Polyamide & 2% Elastane.

Fabric: Hand stitched, guaranteed to keep your feet fresh and dry.

#sockstyle #sockslover #sockstagram #whitesocks #socksgirl #cutesocks #socksforsale #babysocks #anklesocks #woolsocks #funsocks #crazysocks #longsocks #fashionsocks #ilovesocks

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roseonhissleeve · 7 years ago

Text

Instagram Live

A/N: This bad boy was inspired by the Instagram livestream of October 2017 that has left us all shooketh. Enjoy. xx

Wednesdays were your favorite.

It was hard on you two for Niall to be away on promo and touring all of the time. You had met and started dating during the hiatus, so you never got used to the travelling that he had to do during the One Direction days— your first taste of the promo life was when he released This Town, and even then, it was only for a few weeks.

It was a huge adjustment from having him visiting you every day to only seeing him maybe once every two weeks. So that’s why the two of you had made a deal— every Wednesday, no matter how busy the two of you were, you’d set aside time that day to Facetime. No excuses allowed, whether it be five minutes or three hours, you would see each other.

That Wednesday was a particularly difficult one— you had a midterm that day for your hardest course, and because you had spent the entire first half of the week studying, you were now behind on the rest of your reading. On your way home from your test all you could think about was how excited you were to finally see your guy, and to hear his voice.

You shrugged your bag off of your shoulder after walking into your front door, shutting it behind you with a small sigh. Stepping out of your shoes, your walked through the hallway and into the kitchen to grab a glass of water and a snack— then you grinned as you practically skipped down the hallway into your room, plopping onto your desk chair as you opened your computer.

As soon as you did your phone vibrated in the pocket of your sweater, and your face lit up when you read the text.

Ya ready, angel?

You set your phone down on your desk and clicked on the Facetime app on your computer, clicking on Niall’s contact picture— and within seconds, he was on your screen.

“Hullo, pet!” He beamed. The sight of his face immediately made your heart soar with joy— his big blue puppy dog eyes looked even brighter on the screen that you remembered, and he was wearing the brown hat that you’d got him as a gift a few months previously.

“Hey, cutie,” you giggled, unable to wipe the grin off of your face. He looked tired— you knew that he wasn’t feeling well lately, and all the promo was exhausting him. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shite,” he chuckled a bit, unconsciously twitching his nose. “But I feel better now that I get to see ya. How was your test?”

“Shit,” you laughed as well, your heart feeling a thousand pounds lighter regardless of the shitshow your week had been.

“Tell me everything,” he smiled, leaning forward onto his elbows.

And just like that, all the stress that you had been feeling dissipated. You told him everything— how you had pulled an all-nighter two nights ago and still hadn’t fully recovered, and your mother brought you weeks worth of food once she’d found out that you’d been living off of microwavable meals since Niall had left. He giggled when you told him about how you spilled coffee all over yourself in the street the day before, giggling even harder when you threatened to hang up on him.

He told you how he loved finally being able to do promo for his album, and how much of a relief it was to have it out and circulating after so long. You sang your praises like you had so many times before, telling him that your mom had cried when she listened to Flicker and how your father sang On My Own in the car constantly.

“What are your plans for the rest of the night?” You asked, still smiling with giddiness at the joy that your wonderful boyfriend gave you.

“I have about three thousand CD’s to sign,” he said with a smile and a crinkle of his nose, running a hand through his hair. “How bout you, babe?”

“A shitload of reading,” you pouted. “Keep me company?”

Ten minutes later the two of you were getting your work done together— you set him on the far end of your desk as your books took up the rest of the space, a pen in your mouth and a highlighter tucked behind your ear as you read. He seemed to have propped you up on his end as well, occasionally glancing up at you as he signed his plethora of albums— he played music on his end, a mix of the seventies that he loved to listen to when he was at home with you. They weren’t tunes that you usually listened to on your own, so it brought you comfort to hear them now with Niall humming along to them on the other side of the screen. You occasionally asked him to play a song when you thought of one you knew the both of you enjoyed, but for the most part you basked in the comfortable silence— you hadn’t felt that carefree and peaceful in days.

You could not believe how much you loved that man. Every so often while you read you looked up at him only to become absolutely entranced— the slight stubble on his chin that you could see growing in made you want to press kisses all over it, and it made your heart ache for closeness. The droop in his puppy dog eyes made your heart ache and burst all at the same time, and you smiled like a schoolgirl with a crush whenever he did something quirky— like when he searched for his glasses only to wear them for two seconds before taking them off again, or when he fiddled with the red feather on his hat and bopped his head to the tune he was listening to.

He made you feel so loved even from miles away, and that’s something you’d never had before.

Eventually you received a phone call from your mom, which interrupted your Facetime.

“Niall, my mom’s calling, I’ll be back in a minute okay?”

“Alright, lover,” he smiled, glancing up at you briefly before looking back down at the CD he was signing. You smiled, blowing him a kiss before hanging up the Facetime and answering your mom’s call.

She. Did not. Stop talking.

For twenty minutes she talked about all the family drama, gossip with her friends, and news in her life— and usually you wouldn’t have cared, but you had a handsome Irishman waiting for you. So when she finally asked if you were coming over for dinner the next day, you said an enthusiastic yes, and hung up the phone soon after.

When you hung up your phone and looked at your notifications, you saw that Niall Horan had started a livestream.

You giggled, flopping onto your bed clumsily as you clicked on the notification. Soon you were looking at your boyfriend again, except this time he was chatting with the 30K viewers that were on his livestream.

“What’s your favorite song on the album?” He asked cheerily, still bopping to the song that was playing in his hotel room. You smiled as you watched the influx of comments, loving how much praise he was getting— you knew how much he put into the album.

You watched the stream for a few minutes, but eventually you wanted him all to yourself again— so you started trying to get his attention.

NIALL

You left about ten comments before you saw his eyes light up on the screen, his grin as wide as you’d ever seen it.

“Look everybody, there’s me lady,” he stated proudly, causing you to laugh. “Hey babe.”

Give us a striptease

You clicked send and giggled to yourself, waiting for him to see the comment. He was signing albums and looking down, and for a second you thought that he’d missed it— until he burst out laughing, leaning back in his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose as he physically slapped his knee with his laughter. Meanwhile there was a sudden influx of praise for your suggestion in the comments, but you were too busy giggling along with him to notice.

“I’m not going ta do that!” He laughed again, covering his face momentarily. While he did, you took the chance to send another message.

Niall take your shirt off

Bring on the nudes Niall

He burst out laughing again, fully covering his face once again which had turned a shade of bright red. You laughed along with him, wiggling your toes and kicking your legs lightly— gosh, you missed having him around.

“On that note, time to get back to me girl, everybody. Thanks for tuning in, love you guys,” he said between giggles before putting and end to the livestream. Seconds later he was calling you over Facetime, still laughing when you pressed the green accept button.

You didn’t get any reading done the rest of the night, only laying around in your bed and joking around. You were constantly amazed at how the two of you could almost know everything about each other and still never run out of things to talk about— it was the perk of being in love with your best friend.

And yes, he eventually did give you the striptease.

#niall horan fanfiction #niall horan #niall horan blurb #niall horan oneshot #niall horan fluff #niall horan x reader #niall horan smut #niall horan imagine #niall horan drabble #niall horan fic #niall horan writing

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fiona-moon · 3 years ago

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Bio and Info

The Basics:

Name: Fiona Moon

Face Claim: Amanda Seyfried

Age: 34

Birthdate: November 27, 1987

Neighborhood: Downtown

Occupation: Massage Therapist (Psychic reader & Musician on the side)

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Quick Facts:

Trigger Warnings: alcoholism, child neglect, miscarriage, death, occult mentions

Her Grandmother, who is from Romania, and practiced magic and always believed that Fiona and her mother Lavona had gifts as well.

Lavona had multiple partners and lovers that always ended poorly, and when they did she would turn to the drink. She suffered a miscarriage years before Fiona was born. Then one day, she met and fell in love with Richard Moon, an English jazz musician and poet from New Orleans. She ended up moving there to be with him, where Fiona was born one year later. Richard was not attentive to either of them, often leaving them while he toured. Lavona later found out that she was one of many mistresses he had, and she took Fiona and left.

Lavona began drinking heavily while working as a waitress to try and support her daughter but with her heart so broken by many men, she ended up drinking herself to death when Fiona had just turned three.

Fiona was alone in the house for days before she wandered out into the cold looking for help. She was found in the snow by a neighbor, who then found Lavona.

Fiona was put in foster care for a few months before her grandmother gained custody of her. They moved to Fallbrook when Fiona was ten.

As a child, she would talk to ‘spirits’ and speak of memories of her past lives. All of which seemed normal in her household, but something not something her peers understood

When she was 23 years old her grandmother passed away, and she moved into an apartment downtown. She completed a massage therapy program and works at a local spa.

She plays guitar and has done some busking or gig shows around town.

She enjoys yoga, long nature walks and visiting the ocean

She has two cats; Ziggy and Mercury

Is vegan

Nicknames: Yonie, Sunshine

Personality Traits: Empathetic, energetic, kind, free-spirited, quirky, confident, niave at times, and flaky

Likes: Animals, her cats, nature, autumn and winter, the ocean, music, paranormal things, metaphysics, fantasy novels, star gazing

Dislikes: Negative people, bad intentions, narcissists, big cities, animal cruelty

Hobbies and Interests: Yoga, doing spiritual readings, reading books, singing and playing guitar, exploring new mountain trails or nature parks

Physical Appearance:

Height: 5'5 Hair color: blonde Eye color: blue Nationality/Heritage: American, of Romanian, Scandinavian and English decent Tattoos or piercings: Lunar phases on forearm with “As above, so Below” in script text below it. Libra constellation pattern on back/right shoulder. Lotus flower on outer left thigh. Blue rose (for her grandmother) on her chest/collarbone. Scars/Marks: Burn on her leg from dropping hot tea on herself (while working at a cafe).

Distinguishable Traits: Missing two toes on right foot due to frost bite (she acquired when her mother died.)

Connections:

Florence Aldea - grandmother (deceased)

Lavona Aldea - mother (deceased)

Richard Moon - father (estranged)

Wanted Connections:

Childhood friends. Has lived in Fallbrooks since age 10.

Family connections from her father’s side (please contact me for more details)

Music friends - she has played with many bands, often filling in as a guitarist at gigs when needed

clients - for both her massage and psychic readings

new friends - she is generally friendly albeit a little odd but is always happy to extend friendship to new people

#fallbrooksbio #bio #child neglect tw #death tw #miscarriage tw #occult mentions tw #alcoholism tw

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merryfortune · 8 years ago

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Spirited Away

Gift Fic for: @binlar-lover as part of the Fairy Tales, Folklore, and Supernatural @hqexchange

Hello, I’m your gift ficcer and I hope I’ve impressed you with this fic~

Fandom: Haikyuu

Ship: KiyoYachi

AU: Youkai & College Student AU with a hint of Studio Ghibli’s Spirited Away

Word Count: 5959

Links: Ao3 | FF.net | Ko-Fi

Warnings: Angst, implied caracter death(s) potential body horror (skip Kei’s description if necessary), read the ending part 2 if you want that weet, sweet angst

Yachi Hitoka was not a very strong person.

No, she had many, many weaknesses. She loved stationary and couldn’t help but buy anything with big eyed kitties on it and pastels. She always wants new markers and highlighters. And those are her quirky weaknesses; she’s also terrified to death of walking alone, of subways, and a good many more things. And right now, topping the list of her many, many fears was a very, very pretty woman.

She was gorgeous. Divine. Ethereal. Her hair shimmered in the moonlight. Her glasses caught the neon lights of the fast food stalls and made her seem flushed pink but in an alluring way because her eyes glittered. She was tall and slim; her stance accentuated by the tight kimono she wore that drew her upwards and in. It was such a lovely kimono: navy blue with silver and white trims.

And this beauty among mere mortals like Hitoka was talking to her in her soothing, graceful voice with eloquent small talk. She pushed stray strands of her black hair over her ear.

It was terrible.

Hitoka watched her rouged lips open and close but she didn’t hear a coherent thought over the babble of panic and infatuation that was her internal monologue.

‘Would you be willing?’

Her voice finally cut through Hitoka’s drivel.

I would die for you, Hitoka thought but thankfully did not say.

‘Absolutely.’ Hitoka said; enchanted and bobbing her head like a chicken with her eyes open and awed.

‘Fantastic. I hope to see you there then.’ she said. ‘I’m Kiyoko, by the way. How rude of me to not tell you to begin with.’

‘Hitoka!’ she spat out. ‘Yachi Hitoka… first year… college student.’

Kiyoko blinked. ‘College student?’ But she soon composed herself. ‘Well, just like it says on the flyer: next Tuesday evening at that location. I shall see you there.’

‘Heck yeah you’ll see me there.’ Hitoka awkwardly replied.

Kiyoko giggled. ‘I have a feeling you’ll fit right in. Now, I must take my leave.’

‘Y-Yeah, okay, bye.’ Hitoka babbled.

What had she signed herself up for?

The paper was not glossy in her hands. She had expected to be squinting at a flyer that was professional but it wasn’t. It appeared to be completely inked by hand; but by an artist as it was extraordinary. It depicted an old-style bathhouse and there were crow motifs throughout. The eyes of the birds in the pictures seem to follow Hitoka; it was unnerving but another marker of how well-crafted the flyer was.

‘Welcome! Come one, come all: the Karasuno Bathhouse. Help wanted: part-timers and casuals to do cleaning.’ Hitoka read aloud. ‘Meet after hours on the second day of next week… That’s Tuesday. Interviews will take place.’

Hitoka nodded to herself as she mused over the flyer. She didn't think herself much of a cleaner but working in a bathhouse seemed like it would be a fun opportunity. There was something deeply romantic about old style bathhouses; she used to go to them with her parents so nostalgia was begging her to take the opportunity.

With a smile, Hitoka returned to her aunt and uncle's place. She was living with them until she got her feet. She still very much felt like a rural girl lost in the midst of Tokyo. She couldn't believe she used to think Torino was big.

Hitoka was an advertising student and she took great care in her studies. Call her boring but she delights in directing commercials and spam. That was totally why Hitoka pinned up the bathhouse flyer above her bed; even after putting all its dates and details into her various calendars and planners.

That night, as she tucked herself under the covers, she felt oddly giddy. Hitoka was very much looking forward to the job interview. She clutched her sheets, turned over, and whilst the prospect of earning money was very much appealing, her mind was completely on Kiyoko and the hope that they could reunite. She could barely sleep with her mind thinking about everything that could go right!

For once.

How unusual. How completely and utterly rare… and wonderful. Relaxing.

That had been Saturday and the day flew. Hitoka stuffed herself silly on Sunday and Monday with studying just so she could have all of Tuesday to prepare. It was a funny time, ten o’clock but it was the will of the manager, presumably, and therefore should not be questions.

All of Tuesday, Hitoka practised her bows and what she would say and ask. She practised the most-polite way to drink tea and her aunt and uncle, who were getting on in their years, were thrilled to bestow all their traditional knowledge upon their niece. Especially in the absence of their two sons who had gone off the be engineers abroad; they couldn’t be prouder but still, there was something important about learning that which had come before them and yet Hitoka’s cousins had never been interested.

With all this practicing and exercise, the day flew and with each passing hour, more butterflies manifested in Hitoka’s stomach until she was a rickety, fluttery mess. She had tried to ignore it but it worsened.

Hitoka’s Uncle Takeshi drove her to the location on the flyer. It was a fair bit out of the way; bordering close to the outskirts but he was sure the pay would be good. He didn’t seem to mind either. That being said, he had a hard time getting there. He felt like he couldn’t see a thing with all the thick foliage and darkness. They drove into the more spiritual grounds of Tokyo; past many shrines – little and big and into the mountains. There was an eerie vibe; especially given as it was night but then, Hitoka saw it through all the landscape was a building of men; not of the gods.

The Karasuno Bathhouse was huge. It was set upon a small island on a small lake. It was grand and elegant; at least four storeys with huge, dipping roofs with jade tiles. It was of scarlet wood and there was a beautiful, arching bride connecting it and them. With the cover of darkness, against the cobalt sky, it looked exactly like the painting on the flyer save for the grey clouds that shrouded it.

Her Uncle whistled. ‘There’s something about old bathhouses, eh.’

‘Indeed.’ Hitoka replied breathless.

‘Shame about the state it’s in.’ Uncle Takeshi lamented. ‘So old, dilapidated. They must have come into money if they’re hiring new help; maybe they’re doing it up. Bringing you in here for some cheap labour.’ He shrugged. ‘Have a good interview, maybe think twice about accepting it.’

‘Y-Yeah, it is a very long commute.’ Hitoka replied. She glanced at her uncle then at the bathhouse.

Old? Dilapidated? The only other building anything as regal as this one would be the Emperor’s estate.

‘I expect you’ll be done by eleven-thirty, I’m going to go find a ramen stand and grab some dumplings. I’m also going to go to one of the shrines so pay respect to the local gods, I don’t want to offend them with my car. Ring me if you need me, I promise to be close by.’

‘Thank you, Uncle.’ Hitoka replied.

She took her handbag and exited the car. She held firmly onto its white straps and farewelled her Uncle. He stayed put, carefully, protectively. Hitoka crossed the bridge. From the base, it seemed like an impossible walk but it was quite the opposite. Just as scary though, but quite the opposite.

One, two. Her ballet flats conformed to the wood underfoot; Hitoka never realised how thin they were until now. Three, four. Her toes dug into the grass; wood did not dig into her dainty foot. And she was there, at the end of the bridge and being looked down upon by the grandiose bathhouse.

At the bottom of the bathhouse, it felt like morning. Not a sunshiny morning but morning. Like when you wake up three am and expect it to still be yesterday. That feeling of beautiful unreality where time exists… but it doesn’t. Yet the clock still ticks on with daring flicks even though it doesn’t matter.

Hitoka approached the gaping hole with a black-green curtain slung across it with a white emblem: a simplistic bath and some steam; a staple for every bathhouse, Hitoka supposed. She pushed it aside and her heart hammered in her throat. Her ears pricked up: she caught murky halves of conversations, clinks and clunks of metal pans, gushing water, and even music. It felt very familiar and homey which was a comfort to Hitoka. She let go of a breath she didn’t realise she was holding

Nervously, Hitoka attempted to press on. She quaked inside of her ballet flats and she craned her head. The inside of the bathhouse was every bit as gorgeous as the outside. It was of gleaming, light coloured wood and there were intricate artworks and tapestries and all sorts of objects of interest scattered. People – patrons and workers – mingled in between it all.

Hitoka came through. She scanned each way, like she was at a busy road, and tried to cross. Only to be bombarded and pummelled by an unknown from the left.

There are rules, sweetheart…

I know, Grandmother.

Promise to obey them – for me?

I will, Grandmother. Pinkie-swear.

Hitoka was pushed to the ground and dog-piled by two unknown individuals. This is it, she thought to herself, squashed to death. They wriggled around on top of her; calling each other names and insulting each other for what was essentially a joint issue.

Eventually, they coordinated each other and got off of Hitoka. They both bent down and helped her up. Hitoka, with eyes spinning, accepted as many hands as she could grasp. They pulled her to her feet and as Hitoka recovered from her dizzy spell, she was greeted by a broad smile and a sullen scowl. Both just as equally terrifying as the other.

The smile belonged to a short, young man with amber eyes. He had a scruffy mess of orange hair with flicks and curls going everywhere. The scowl belonged to a young man somewhat taller than his companion and Hitoka. He had stunning blue eyes and sleek black hair.

They both wore a black kimono with orange patterns.

‘Was that a car you were just in?!’ the shorter young man asked, eyes going wide as he practically reverberated with excitement.

‘Uh… yes.’ Hitoka mumbled

Rule 1: Never tell them your real name.

‘Dumbass, there are more important things in the world than, um, vehiculars.’ his companion chastised him.

‘Now look who’s the dumbass: you can’t even say “car”!’

The two quickly dissolved in a tiff and Hitoka was powerless to do anything about it, until a frighteningly tall, blonde in a black-and-orange kimono approached. He was a chilly demeanour and Hitoka’s levels of stress continually heightened.

He sighed. ‘I thought you two were goofing off.’

‘We weren’t!’

‘We were asking her very important questions. I’ve never heard anyone using a human car. She must be a rich brat from the heavens. I don’t like her already.’

The blonde turned to Hitoka and appraised her with sharp eyes. He sneered. ‘I can’t believe it, you might be right: she does look like a rich brat.’

‘Aah! She’s wearing western clothing!’ a fourth young man pointed out. He had a lot less presence than everyone else wearing the black-and-orange kimono. He had a freckly, kind face with cute features and almost green hair. ‘I apologise for my friends, your highness, you must have come a long way. I think it is admirable of you to mix with us commoners; get a job among us. You must be used to idling your days away.’

‘No! Not at all! I’m just a normal… girl. Here to get a part time job. I have student fees to pay for. And a mouth to feed. That’s all. I don’t want to be a burden to my aunt and uncle.’ Hitoka explained.

There was a moment wherein everyone stared, baffled as they each other their own unique understanding of what was going. Each understanding a significant degree from the truth of the situation.

‘I’m Kei. Who the fuck are you? You are a new part-timer… right?’

‘Yes. I am. I’m Yachi Hitoka; here to apply for the bath scrubbing-cleaner position… thing.’ Hitoka explained hurriedly. Her cheeks flushed and her heart hammered.

Rule 1: failed.

The orange haired youth shot up in a bound. ‘Woohoo! Just like us! Just like us!’ he chanted.

‘I… am?’ Hitoka mumbled.

‘Well yeah… we were part-timers hired a while back now. I’m Tadashi; it’s great to meet you. I’m the pinch server so if there are problems in the kitchen, I step in. It’s a great job but mostly washing dishes.’

‘Good to meet you… Tadashi.’ Hitoka said, struggling to meet his chirpy eyes.

‘I’m Shouyou and this is my partner Tobio! We do the corridors and rooms; making sure all the beds are made but mostly dusting. We’re really good at getting the hard to reach places.’

‘Again, good to meet you both… Shouyou, Tobio.’

‘So, we should probably take you to see Old Man Ikkei, huh.’ Kei mused.

‘Mm, he’ll want to meet her, yeah. You know, so he can hire her.’ Tadashi agreed.

‘Thank you.’ Hitoka said.

Rule 2: Do not eat what they give you.

As a boisterous group, they navigated the bathhouse. It was like a rabbit warren. Hitoka felt in place though. Normally, she didn’t like big crowds but here, though it was noisy it was like there was no substance to it so it didn’t scare her. Also, being part of a pack of big, tough boys was a comfort because they had some sort of authority. People knew to avoid them but when they did avoid them, there was a tad of disgust upon their faces. Perhaps it is because they were the hired help. How rude.

Although Hitoka thought that, she also thought there was something off about these young men. They had good faces, good charisma, varied personalities and were over all quite nice upon getting to know them and their humour, there was something wrong about them. Beneath the surface. It was like there was a disconnection between what she was hearing and seeing, and what she was processing. It was like getting used to hearing a song mashed-up with another song and trying to listen to the original and waiting for parts that weren’t there

Tadashi tilted his head thoughtfully. ‘Hm… anyone else peckish? We’re going to pass the kitchens soon. I can pinch some fruit, if you guys like.’

‘Oooh, grab us some meat buns!’ Shouyou said.

‘Yeah, meat buns!’ Tobio agreed.

‘Ugh, fine.’ Tadashi said but mumbled under his breath about how much trouble he’ll be in with he got caught.

‘I would prefer some fruit.’ Hitoka said, disjointedly.

‘Same, actually.’ Kei piped up.

‘Okay then.’ Tadashi chirruped.

When the kitchens came up, Tadashi was in and out like a thief. He came back with a plate of fruit for Yachi and Kei and meat buns for the others. Shouyou and Tobio greedily pilfered from the plate. The fruit, of course, was left untouched by them.

‘Carnivores.’ Kei dismissed them under his breath.

‘Here you go, Hitoka-chan.’ Tadashi said.

‘Th-Thank you.’ Hitoka replied, awkwardly, wondering if it was appropriate for him to call her that so fondly. They had just met after all.

Hitoka took an apple from the plate and she bit into it. It was such a crisp colour: a beautiful crimson. And it tasted even better. Wondrously sweet and very firm with a satisfying crunch. Her eyes lit up.

Rule 2: failed.

‘They’re great, aren’t they?’ Tadashi said with a lot of pride.

Kei’s face went red and he huffed, hurried on lest Hitoka saw him. Lest any of his friends saw him actually.

‘Kei and his brother Akiteru manage the orchard.’ Tadashi boasted.

Hitoka threw an impressed look to Kei; ‘They’re really tasty!’

She blinked. Squinted. Hitoka had never worn glasses but she felt as though, she had just taken off a pair. She rubbed her eyes.

‘Is something the matter?’ Tadashi worried; Shouyou stopping in his tracks and showing concern.

‘I – I think I just got dust or something in my eyes.’ Hitoka replied.

She blinked once more; her eyelashes fluttering and she squinted. Then her eyes widened; eyelids flapping back in panic. She screamed.

Tobio had horns. Big horns that looked like drills. Not to mention teeth that were jagged and animalistic and inherently… wrong-looking; inhuman-looking. Kei only had half his face; from his cheekbones, he had bone. His flesh from his jaws down turned to a fleshless skull. His eyes didn’t seem to exist; they were just blackened sockets. His hands were a mix of flesh and bone. Then there was Tadashi. He had skinny, scaled legs and no shoes for his feet were akin to that of a chicken; not to mention his freaking wings; beautiful wings that were blue, red, yellow, and green!

The only normal one was… Shouyou and even then, it was like he was constantly shifting. This form – this human form – was not real. It was a glamour; an illusion. The only thing real about him was that metallic sheen about his eyes; a hint to his true form.

Hitoka backed away from them. She bumped into the wall and felt her skin crawl. She trembled; knees knocking.

‘What’s going on?’ Tobio asked; his fangs gnashing and grinding audibly – or was it only because Hitoka was terrified?

‘Y-Y-Y-You’re monsters!’ she screeched.

The four looked among themselves, confused.

‘You’re… not?’ Shouyou asked; deflating.

‘N-No, why would I be?!’ Yachi shrieked.

‘Because you’re here. At a bathhouse. For. Youkai?’ Tobio said.

‘A what?’ Hitoka murmured; going pale.

‘The Karasuno Bathhouse; a popular stop for youkai from all over!’ Tadashi said.

Hitoka genuinely thought her heart would stop beating there and then. That she would die from a heart attack. Instead, she was pumping blood good and new. As always.

‘What is that racket!?’ a crotchety, old man voice rang out.

‘Crap!’ Shouyou muttered. ‘Old Man Ikkei.’

The four shuddered and moved away from Hitoka. They lined themselves up along the opposite wall and waited. Soon, an old man descended on them. He scuttled along with a pounding cane. He was greying wings and a great nose. He wore the finest garments Hitoka had ever seen. He seemed older than time.

Hitoka swallowed. So, the stories were true then. They had to be. Three rules, Hitoka remember now. There were three rules that her grandmother had drilled into her when she was a child. Everyone thought that dear old Grandmother Reiko was a bit airy and fairy in her old age. Turns out… she was right.

Three rules. And Hitoka had broken two of them. She dropped her apple. It rolled towards the old man. He bent down – grunting and creaking – and picked up the apple. He inspected the bite marks.

‘A small mouth. A girl’s mouth.’ He decided.

He continued to hobble along. One pounding foot after another aided by his cane. He got to the youths and Hitoka. Everyone was terrified.

‘Lads,’ he began, ‘off ya git, you’ve been goofing off far too long. Knew I shouldn’t have put Tobio and Shouyou in charge of greeting the potential part-timers.’

He paused. They started to sneak off, hoping that was the brunt of it.

‘I SAID OFF YA GIT but I’m giving you extra chores tomorrow!’

He was a Tengu, Hitoka realised. He commanded authority. He appeared regal.

His face softened as he happened upon Hitoka.

‘What’s your name, lass?’

‘Hitoka Yachi.’

‘The girl Kiyoko recruited, correct? A… human. I can smell it on you. The filthy half-bloods over there… no wonder they didn’t realise, they thought you smelt normal because you’re like them. Are you a seer?’

‘No. My grandmother was though. I think.’ Hitoka replied.

‘Hitoka… Reiko?’ he asked.

‘Yes… how did you know?’ Hitoka asked, her eyes brimming with curiosity despite the fear.

‘You have her eyes.’ Ikkei lamented. ‘Grandmother… huh? No wonder she hasn’t visited in a while. She was the only seer ballsy enough t’ visit. She – She still hanging on?’

‘No, she passed away two years ago.’ Hitoka replied.

He turned around in a huff. ‘You’re hired. You’ll be Kiyoko’s personal assistant. Yui can get you the women’s kimono first.’

‘Really?! Just like that?!’ Hitoka said.

‘Yep.’ Ikkei said. ‘Come along now, Hitoka.’

Hitoka kept pace with Old Man Ikkei. He seemed like a tempest; powerful, raging but he was actually quite serene. He gave Hitoka the impression that he had seen many, many things in his lifetime. They did not talk. Only walked.

He dropped her off in the private quarters reserved for staff. Hitoka knocked on the door and in that moment, Old Man Ikkei had managed to disappear. It was very quiet here, until there was a hot scramble for the door.

‘In a second!’ voice rang out and then the door pulled back.

A face emerged: a grinning, cute face and Hitoka’s heart skipped a beat. A woman, tall and somewhat masculine, allowed her into the room. She wore a navy-blue kimono with white or silver patterns and trims. It really accentuated her height and figure. The room was strewn with silk and spider web. It smelt of steam and fresh linen.

‘Hello, good to meet you, part-timer. I’m Yui. What’s your name, cutie-pie?’

Yui immediately set to work on understanding Hitoka’s body type and height.

‘Yachi Hitoka.’ Hitoka said. Having remember her previous mistakes, she also added: ‘Human.’

‘Whore.’ Yui muttered, unfazed, as she had pins in her mouth and she put fabric around Hitoka, squeezing her tightly.

‘Sorry?’

‘Sorry? Wait, oh, I’m a Jorōgumo, sorry for the confusion. Human, huh, that’s rare.’

In a matter of seconds, Yui was soon finished making a kimono that was exactly perfect for Hitoka.

‘I’ll make you a back-up kimono in a moment. As well as some sleepwear.’ Yui said.

‘Will I have to be there for the fittings?’ asked Hitoka.

‘Nah, I never forget a cute girl’s measurements.’ Yui said with a wink.

‘Oh…’ Hitoka became flustered.

‘So, where do you need to go. You can get changed if you like, I’m a professional.’ Yui said.

‘Okay.’ Hitoka mumbled.

She explained herself as she got unchanged. Yui took her clothes away from safe keeping. There was a growing feeling of lucidity. It felt unlikely that Hitoka would ever see her faux office worker clothes again. There was a feeling she wasn’t going to see much ever again. It bothered her that that didn’t bother her. She felt like she was slowly forgetting something.

‘Okeydokey, all done.’ Yui said and she admired her handiwork.

Hitoka had never worn a softer or more perfect kimono. She felt like the Emperor’s daughter in this. It was lovely. Just for her. The dark colouring of the kimono was complementary against her fair skin; like the moonlight in the night.

‘You look great. I hope you enjoy working here. The Karasuno Bathhouse is like a big ol’ family. It’s great. You’ll get along so well with the First Years.’

‘The First Years?’ Hitoka echoed.

‘Oh, that’s just what us ancients call the other new part timers.’ Yui chuckled. ‘They’re good kids. You know: Shouyou, Tobio, Kei, Tadashi… just unfortunate. The Community is dying nowadays, they needed a home. One that’ll accept them. Thank goodness for the Bathhouse or they’d be on the streets.’

‘I don’t understand.’ Hitoka said.

‘You’d be on the streets too, I reckon.’ Yui lamented. ‘A human seer who’s been hidden by the monsters…’

‘Three... rules.’ Hitoka said. No wonder she felt like she was dreaming. She was trespassing upon a very thin line.

‘C’mon, I’ll get you down to Kiyoko’s bath. She’s the manager; handles the finances and stocks. She’s so smart, I wish I could be like her. I’m bit of a dunderhead but she tells me that she wishes she could sew like me. So, there’s balance. She’s teaching me complex math on her breaks though!’ Yui babbled.

‘Oi, Twins!’ she yelled. She banged on the wall.

A muffled reply came.

‘The Twins are hosts. They’re not usually busy at this hour so they’ll be right to take you to Kiyoko. They’re waitresses who work with Tadashi sometimes.’ Yui said. ‘Off you go, I’ve got guest laundry to wash.’

‘Thank you, Yui. I feel wonderful in this work kimono.’ Hitoka said as she slid the door across.

‘Don’t mention it, unless you get a rip. Just doing my job.’ Yui said as she composed piles of clothes into baskets.

Hitoka met with the Twins and they soon escorted her to Kiyoko’s bath. They were very sweet gals who curiously had no names. They were a collective: the Twins. A shame as they were fraternal rather than identical and that they had defined invidualistic personalities even as a unison.

They later told Hitoka that once, they were doll and master but deep, dark spiritual power one day corrupted them. Not that they had many memories of what it was like back then. A century or more ago now. They feared the same would happen to Hitoka. The urged her to respect the final rule.

Rule 3: Don’t fall in love.

The Twins took Hitoka through the weaving warren of intricately interconnected rooms and corridors. They were constantly pointing out things that were need-to-know. Those are guest rooms, that’s a closet, we don’t use that, when we do use that it’s a make-out spot… It went on and on and on.

Soon, Hitoka was brought to the ground floor’s furthest room. Moss and flowering vines constricted the walls. It was chilly here but she didn’t mind.

‘Kiyoko is right in there.’ The Twins said and they opened the door for Hitoka.

It scratched along the frame and Hitoka cautiously stepped in. The Twins pounded on her back, encouraging her. She licked her lips. Rule three. Rule three. She reminded herself of it as constantly as she could but it kept slipping from her grasp like wet soap.

The Twins farewelled her and shut the door behind Hitoka. Hitoka wandered into the bath. It appeared to be part of the ground rather than a room as there was no flooring; only a canopy of sorts above them. The bathhouse was becoming more and more architecturally improbable with every room Kiyoko becomes acquainted with.

It was brisk but the thick kimono kept Hitoka warm. She wondered if it really was made of Yui’s spider silk.

Hitoka soon felt lost in Kiyoko’s domain. It was like she had stumbled into a forest without trees; only a lake guarded by rocks. But this was hers to keep clean, what was she to keep clean?

‘Hitoka-chan?’ a voice lifted from nowhere; a beautiful, lilting voice.

‘Kiyoko-san?’ Hitoka replied.

Splish, splash, and soon a glorious head of wet hair emerged from the lake. Long, bare arms sopping wet anchored a body to the rocks and Kiyoko pulled herself up. She glistened in the faint starlight.

‘Where are my glasses…’ she mumbled.

Hitoka drew closer. There was a crisp crunch of grass underfoot and Hitoka’s feet grew soggy with dew.

The lake soon swallowed up Hitoka’s vision. It was as still as a mirror and coloured like the night sky. The lake was burgeoning with lily-pads with vibrant pink, yellow, and white spiky flowers reaching upwards. Bubbles bigger than the flowers gathered here and there alongside pristine, white foam. There was a sweet, mild fragrance in the air that lulled Hitoka into a state of dreaminess with its tempting presence.

Amidst it all was Kiyoko. From the waist, down she was in the tremendous, dark water. From the waist, up she was nude. Her black as ink hair slick and sliding down her bare, alabaster back and showing off the gentle curves of her pale shoulders. Her demure yet sultry eyes searching for Hitoka. Her lips, a soft peach pink, slightly apart and pert like they were about to be kissed.

‘My glasses, can you find them?’

‘Of course… Ki-Ki-Kiyoko.’ Hitoka sputtered; enamoured with the gentle, poetic beauty of Kiyoko.

Hitoka awkwardly toddled off; feeling eyes on her back. She soon found Kiyoko’s glasses on the other side of the pool. Kiyoko followed her through the water; not through the grass. She hefted herself up once more onto one of the rocks. Hitoka handed over her glasses and her eyes became more focused, bigger and Hitoka could see just how lovely a colour her pupils were: eyes as grey as the fog that spirals on a stormy beach. She was positively enchanting.

The third rule. The third rule. Stuff the third rule.

‘Thank you, Hitoka-chan.’

Hitoka swooned every time Kiyoko said her name. She spoke so elegantly and her sweet, mature voice polished every word and turned it into something precious. It rendered Hitoka breathless.

‘I heard you will be my personal cleaner as Ikkei-san hired someone else for general duties.’

‘I don’t mind.’

‘I suppose it’s less for you to clean. After all, what is one large bath compared ten-and-four small baths?’

‘See, putting it that sounds like a huge load off. Less hours too, if I can bulk up and clean quick.’

‘Indeed.’

Kiyoko swayed, she continued to hoist herself at the lake. She was graceful, effortless. She did not ask Hitoka for help and Hitoka was too spellbound to even think of asking if she ought to. Kiyoko’s lower half raised from the water; droplets rolling off of lovely grey and blue scales and fins.

A ningyō… she is a ningyō, Hitoka thought idly to herself as her eyes caught on how beautiful, how-fish like Kiyoko was.

‘Once every two weeks, I would like you to clean my bath. If that works for you.’ Kiyoko said as she sat up, twisting around so not to harm any of her raiment-like fins and attachments to her wide, beautiful tail that tapered into lovely, see-through fins that were curly and fluttery.

‘Sounds good.’ Hitoka replied.

‘I hope we get along.’ Kiyoko said with a smile as she played with her hair, placing it into a loose plait. Already she was beginning to dry.

‘Yo-You were wearing a kimono… and shoes. When we met. How?’ Hitoka asked. ‘If you don’t mind me helping.’

‘Every so often, I adopt an illusion and I transform myself. I can’t do it frequently lest it hurts me.’ Kiyoko explained.

‘Oh. How… magical.’ Hitoka replied; struggling to find a reply.

‘Ne, Hitoka-chan, would you like to sit with me?’ Kiyoko asked.

‘Sure.’ Hitoka said.

She removed her wooden clogs and socks. She sat upon a cold, damp rock next to Kiyoko and lets her toes dangle and skirt along the frigid surface of the lake.

‘Is it always this cold?’

‘Only at night. I don’t mind. It’s when it gets too hot though… yes, that can be a pain. The struggles of being cold blooded.’

Hitoka placed her hand close to Kiyoko’s. Kiyoko’s fingers wandered over Hitoka’s. Her digits were long and bony. Cold too but Hitoka didn’t mind. Soon, they were holding hands and watching as streams of silvery moonlight beamed down from high in the starry heavens and unto the lake.

‘I like to believe I am quite blessed here.’ Kiyoko mused, her voice soft, husky, alluring.

This couldn’t be more removed from what Hitoka knew. She found herself thinking about the summer when she was eight. It had been windy and rainy and awful most of it. But the day she went to visit her grandmother, it had been perfect. The skies were clear; not a cloud in sight yet petrichor permeated the plants and earth; encasing Hitoka with its pleasantries. She sat in her grandmother’s lap; watermelon juice dripping over her face as she attempted to eat a slice bigger and thicker than her hand.

“There are rules, sweetheart…”

“I know, Grandmother.”

“Promise to obey them – for me?”

“I will, Grandmother. Pinkie-swear.”

I swear I will, Grandmother or else I shall swallow a thousand needles, Hitoka thought to herself but she could feel her memories growing weak, twisting into dreams.

‘Ne, Hitoka-chan.’ Kiyoko piped up, breaking Hitoka’s reverie.

‘Yes?!’ Hitoka squeaked.

‘Promise me that you’ll stay with me for as long as you can?’ Kiyoko asked, gently.

‘I promise.’ Hitoka replied.

Memories turned to dreams: foggy, uncertain… gone. And to seal the spell with the strongest bind, Kiyoko leaned in.

Rule 3: failed.

Hitoka mimicked. She leaned in. Her skin prickled. Her heart raced.

Their lips connected slowly. Hitoka was embraced by the smell of fresh water and lilies; delicate, light. She was enchanting. Kiyoko’s lips were soft but she was firm, guiding, knew what she was doing and Hitoka allowed her to lead as she was graceful.

It was a relatively long kiss and it made Hitoka’s spirits soar. Truly, the spell had now been wound tightly around her and her heart. She felt unbreakable. She felt like she had forgotten something. Kiyoko’s hand tightened over Hitoka’s. yes, she had forgotten something in the thrill of the kiss.

Yachi Hitoka was not a very strong person.

No, she had many, many weaknesses. She loved stationary and couldn’t help but coddle the big-eyed kitties that wandered around the bathhouse. She loved pastels; always gawking at sunset and sunrise. She always to filch peaches and lychees from the harvest. And those are her quirky weaknesses; she’s also terrified to death of walking alone, of gross looking mess, and a good many more things.

However, right now, topping the list of her many, many fears was not a very, very pretty woman but leaving her. That being said… why would Hitoka ever leave her?

She fears she has forgotten and it is a far more harrowing fear than anything else she has ever encountered.

[The ending part 2: read if you want Extra Angst(tm)]

Yachi Hitoka was not a rule breaker. She was neither a promise breaker, and yet…

Missing College Student’s Remains Found After Sixty years

Harakawa Ayumu [journalist; JNN]

After nearly sixty years, Yachi Hitoka (19) has been returned. Her family can finally have closure.

Yachi Hitoka was a university student belonging to University of Tokyo. She was studying advertisement. She was a bright, young woman beloved by friends and family alike. She was described as well organised and cheerful. People often said her greatest flaw was how easily stressed and anxious she became.

Due to these characteristics, her family immediately found it unusual when she did not return phone calls from them regarding her whereabouts.

Yachi Hitoka was last seen by her Uncle: Katsuragi Takeshi. She had been attending a job interview at a “Karasuno Bathhouse”.

Yachi Hitoka’s remains were found in the area of her job interview but no sight – or superficial record – of a Karasuno Bathhouse has been found. There have been scattered reports of one existing but due to the untrustworthy verdicts of witnesses having found a Karasuno Bathhouse, it is uncertain as to if Yachi Hitoka had even attended an interview or if she had been scanned. It is to our understanding that a mysterious woman gave Yachi a flyer alerting her to the possible job position at the bathhouse. This woman, or her employer, never came forward.

Yachi’s remains were found wearing a navy blue and white kimono made of an unusual substance. Analysis says the fabric is spider silk. She was also aged considerably and showing odd signs of compositions. Foul play is suspected.

Rest in peace, Yachi Hitoka.

#merry writes stuff #hq fantasy exchange #hq ffs 2017 #hq ffs #hq fantasy exchange 2017 #kiyoyachi #yachikiyo #yachi hitoka #kiyoko shimizu #hqexchange #eh i'll add links later #i hope binlar-lover likes it #i spent a lot of time *coughs* one day bc procrastination *coughs* on this #i'm so sorry #i had a shitty week and did a lot of procrastination but i whacked out 4500 words today (probably mre) and edited so i'm p proud

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boozedancing · 7 years ago

Text

May 26, 2018 7:12 AM

The plan is to be on the road by 7:59 AM. Let’s see how that goes.

May 26, 2018 8:16 AM

Car’s all packed up, but we’re 17 minutes behind schedule. Oh well.

May 26, 2018 10:02 AM

Quick stop for a double espresso and an iced coffee at the Paramus rest stop on the Garden State Parkway.

May 26, 2018 12:14 PM

Our first beer stop was at Hudson Ale Works in Highlands, New York where I had a flight of the following:

How Sweet Wit Is: Classic Belgian Wit. Lightly spiced with light, fizzy carbonation. Crisp. Clean. As it should be!

Gose, The Imposa: just the right amount of pucker. Lemony and refreshing.

Check the Technique Blueberry Sour: Like a fresh picked, just underripe blueberry. Super refreshing and not too puckering. Mrs. G-LO really liked this one too.

Green Tea IPA: Not super hoppy at all. Smooth and creamy with a light IPA bite and mellow green tea notes in the aftertaste.

Hudson Ale Works was well worth the stop. Cozy tasting room. Prompt, courteous service. Fresh and well crafted beers. The Gose and Blueberry Sour were definite winners. The pulled pork tacos that I ordered for lunch were just ok. Could have been hotter. But ya gotta eat when sampling beer, so they did the job.

May 26, 2018 1:28 PM

I like that you can get drinking paraphernalia in the gift shop at the Vanderbilt Mansion in Hyde Park.

May 26, 2018 1:33 PM

One can amass unimaginable wealth when…

(A) There are little to no regulations and…

(B) You don’t properly pay your workers and deny them any and all benefits.

Just sayin.

May 26, 2018 3:21 PM

Really well done tour at the Vanderbilt Mansion! Our tour guide, who reminded me of Michael Stuhlbarg, was particularly memorable. And Freddie Vanderbilt didn’t sound douchey at all. For a multi-millionaire!

May 26, 2018 4:14 PM

Had the following beers at Sloop Brewing in Elizaville, New York:

Juice Bomb IPA: Smooth and creamy with citrus and some tropical fruit. Slightly dry finish with minimal lingering bitterness.

Up from Downstate Tart IPA: Starts with the citrusy hops. Ends with a lightly lemony tartness. Hides that 6.5% really well. A fine hybrid!

Love the rustic setting and the whole off the beaten path vibe at Sloop! The downside, staying too long and drinking too much could make for a long drive home on tight two lane country roads. Do they have Uber up there?

May 26, 2018 8:26 PM

Dinner at The Publyk House in Bennington, VT.

In the mood for a salad bar? This place had one! And it was prettttty prettttty good. Dig that they had super chunky and creamy Blue Cheese dressing. Dinner was a smoking hot baked New England cod with a cracker crust and a baked potato on the side. Nothing super fancy. But all quite good. Had a Watermelon Moscow Mule to wash it all down. Decent drink, i.e. not too sweet, but it could have been a bit spicier. Overall, a very nice place to have a solid and well prepared meal. Bonus points for the Mountain View and our chipper and very pleasant server named Rebecca.

May 26, 2018 8:35 PM

Interesting art work in our room at The Harwood Hill (the motel down the street from The Publyk House). The painting over our bed is called Isle of Skye. Isn’t that where Talisker is made??? Nice choice of artwork for a Single Malt lover such as myself!

May 26, 2018 8:57 PM

Wedding Crashers is on! A fine way to wind down after a long day of driving.

May 27, 2018 7:15 AM

Not a bad room for $90/night (though the bed was seriously lacking. Oh my aching back!), but I swear there isn’t a right angle in the joint. The whole room is on a downward slope and there’s this weird lip in the bathroom where I almost stubbed a toe on several occasions. They have a rain shower though, so I got that going for me! And they have some funky sculptures on the front lawn too.

May 27, 2018 10:52 AM

Breakfast at Sonny’s Blue Benn Diner. That’s Benn with two n’s. Not a typo. Ordered the Popeye Benedict. Spinach instead of Canadian Bacon. No relation to Popeye Doyle. No heroin dealing Frenchmen in this story. Though our chef looks like a graduate of the VT DOCCIA.

So how was that Popeye Bennie? A bit of a bland mess. Spinach could have used some sautéing in garlic and olive oil and maybe some crushed red pepper flakes. English muffin was soggy and under toasted. Hollandaise was runny. Eggs seemed fine, but I couldn’t tell where the poached egg yolks begin and the sauce ends. The highlight was the catch all home fries. Got extra mushrooms from that omelette? Throw em in there! Bacon bits? Go for it.

Overall, not a very memorable breakfast. But Mrs. G-LO chose better and was pleased. Happy wife, happy life! Am I right?

May 27, 2018 11:48 AM

Popped in to Dwyer’s State Line Beer and Wine on the Vermont / Massachusetts border. One of the few times that I’ve actually been able to find truly local beers in a New England liquor store. Ran into a fellow beer lover from Boston that was super helpful since I had no clue what to buy.

May 27, 2018 1:37 PM

No. It’s not Whisky. It’s Maple Syrup.

May 27, 2018 3:12 PM

Only a Vermonter can call a Vermonter a Common Cracker. Pronounced Crack-ahhhh.

May 27, 2018 4:23 PM

Oh the things you stumble upon in The Vermont Country Store. I now understand what they mean when people say, “They’ve got everything from soup to nuts”.

If I had hair and used Gee, Your Hair Smells Terrific, I have no doubt that my hair would indeed smell terrific.

Does anyone remember Lifebuoy?

Holy Maple Syrup display, Batman!

Cheese!

Fozzy!

Lamb Chop!

SLINK!

May 27, 2018 5:21 PM

We had dinner at J.J. Hapgood’s General Store in Peru, VT. Part general store. Part eatery. Part pizzeria. This place has something for everyone!

Started things off with a Maine Beer Company Lunch IPA which is always a fine choice. The Mrs. went with a Lavender Lemonade Cocktail which is good if you like your drink to taste like Yardley’s English Lavender. She liked it. I didn’t.

First round of food was wood fired asparagus with a fried egg on top and pan seared diver scallops. Both were perfectly cooked and seasoned. We polished them off lickety split. Cause they were so so good!

Round two was a pizza topped with cherry stone clams, mozzarella, parsley, and red pepper flakes. The Mrs. thought it was too spicy. I thought it was just right. The crust was light and airy, but tasted a bit too much like a cracker. Some yeasty notes would have been nice. Other than that, it was quite good. And that squeeze of lemon is a nice touch!

The Mrs. ordered a burger and fries. I had a bite. While it was a bit beyond medium well, it was a tender, loosely packed, and flavorful bit of beef goodness served on a brioche bun.

J.J. Hapgood’s was well worth the visit. It’s a quirky little place staffed by folks that obviously give a damn about what they’re doing. Give it a try if you’re ever driving through Peru, VT!

May 27, 2018 7:02 PM

I scream-ah.. You scream-ah… We all scream-ah… For Ice Cream-ah…

May 28, 2018 8:19 AM

Almost exactly 48 hours later and we’re headed back home.

May 28, 2018 8:50 AM

Breakfast at Papa Pete’s in Bennington, VT before we hit the highway. Big ass pancake for the Mrs. with a side of bacon. Belgian waffle with strawberries for me. Pretty good overall. Weak ass coffee. Big personalities from the staff. Funny and friendly. This is a post hangover joint for sure. The guy at the table behind us was having a mimosa. Lots of talk about day drinking. A quirky, greasy spoon. I like it!

May 28, 2018 12:31 PM

Quick stop at Hudson Valley Brewery in Beacon, NY during the drive back to South Jersey. Tried four Sour Ales and a Pilsner. All were delicious and riddled with flavor! Lots of fruit. Lots of pucker. Hoping their stuff finds their way to South Jersey and Philly real real soon.

48 hours in the @TheHudsonValley and Southwest #Vermont. #CraftBeer #Photos #Diary #RoadTrip May 26, 2018 7:12 AM The plan is to be on the road by 7:59 AM. Let’s see how that goes.

#Beer #Beertography #Craft Beer #Drinkwire #Hudson Ale Works #Hudson Valley Brewery #National Park Service #New York State #Photography #Photos #Pictures #Road Trip #Sloop Brewing #Travel #Vermont

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bt2018bt2018 · 7 years ago

Photo

Retail Insights February 17, 2018 http://ift.tt/2ExhQr7

Click on an image below to zoom in & open photo gallery >>

Would u buy a see-thru luggage

www.myer.com.au

Mall wants u to buy more with its iPhone App

Stores Directory orient u to ur destination

Does your country's mall communicate roller door safety message

Find Cosmetics as u tear open ur presents

Onesie propped up akin to Mannequin max profits

Never get Bored with this Push-Up kit

Minnie Mouse warm ur toes for u

Quick access to Clean Baby with this outfit

Study Desk strategically displayed at store's entrance max product awareness

Chat with ur mates in style in this futuristic seating dome

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Switch from Paper Towels to Air Dryers for the environment

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Magnifying mirror allow u to focus on perfecting every pore

Mysterious Game Trailer wrapped in Style

Be Pampered with the Gymnastic skills of this Masseuse that guarantee u a happy ending

Smelly Air Dryer with poor design

Game Trailers on TV by cashier blasting to queuing customers max return business

Incline Display TV max vantage angles to up profits

Freak out the Girls with this Infrared Spider

Mannequin wired design allow 3-dimensional view of product that would be otherwise unviewable

What to do when u ran out of space to hang SALE signage

Escalator near mall's entrance max traffic to upper levels

Let shelf pack help to organise your luggage

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Having fun with LOREAL app

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Frame the perspective of customers with repetition

A year worth of CHANEL perfume for ur pleasure

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iPhone without heavy security cables

Mannequins advertise Clearance SALE

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Turn dull shelf backdrop into selling point to attract shoppers

Quirky line attract mothers to buy maternity wear

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Cute turtle shrinks head to evade attack

Brochures targeted for different purposes

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Pet shop advise customers not to tap into puppies enclosure

Tear off tab of tissue box remove fine prints for ur retention

Happy children found with Mickey n Minnie at Highpoint mall

Just mucking around at Highpoint shopping mall

Which petshop allow your pets to walk around in the store

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Multiple tags of same pricing max item outreach to passing customers

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Furry ball adds style to winter beanie

Don't miss out on current deals before u board the escalator

Who says exposing more flesh is sexy in this bikini outfit

Imagine a giant book icon alerting u of items location from afar

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Max toy profits by communicating adventure vision with low-cost design

Mirrors assist customers with informed headphones purchase

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Shopping Baskets with Conspicuous Signage to encourage usage max profits

What could supermarket learn from this store to install similar signage that could max profits?

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Mannequin wearing spectacles got bullied by others

1 x Mannequin per product shelf

Cross-sell umbrellas at Men's Business Wear

Mannequin in athletic poses max sports profits

Would u choose this baby wipe

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Signage upfront alert potential customers on presence of other shops

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Wat better way to sell a best seller by communicating with bestseller tag

Artspace in Melbourne

Max brand awareness by communicating product demonstration times at storefront

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Sell girl's toys with ad with sparkling lights

3D model of Self-available at Officeworks

Group of Mannequins with same facial features n skin colour project uniqueness of outfit

Simple One Worded Ad on Pillow gets to the point

Beautiful Flowers Paired with Lingerie Product Max Profits

This Heel keep the sides of ur feet protected

Red light indicator indicates power adapter's surge protection is active

TV at the foot of each escalator advertise mall's style

STD = Standard or Sexually Transmitted Disease Clothing

Fashion Items hanging from Rotating Belt

Tyrannosaurus Icon max toy sales

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Auto Business Shoe Polisher Found at the Gym

Giant Flag helps customers identify location of store from afar

Brand VALUES message on displayed clothing max profits

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If only label tag at ankle level incline upwards to eye level where customers are standing upright

I wish you well. Please see enclosed photos and my feedback below:

Learning from Woolworths and COLES, I hope that label or price tags at ankle or thigh level would incline upwards facing customers standing upright at most populous vantage point; in order to allow easy view and maximise message outreach to as many customers as possible.

Please kindly investigate this matter and share this feedback with your circle of influence.

Thank you for your time in reading this letter.

Explicitly communicate gift idea with tag max profits

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Mannequin in array of freedom poses max profits

Model snuggling in comfy clothing max shopping craze

Price tag on expensive product at store's entrance vantage point turn customers away

Panties with ribbon adds spice to foreplay

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Purple feathered backdrop max profits

Conspicuous round tag organise clothing by sizes

My newly designed Kathmandu bag with flap that guards against rain

Brochures stand at store entrance attract shoppers to buy out of their budget

Happy phone mascot

3-dimensional design of lighting alert user standing further away

Position discount sign beside brand name max profits

Y do u not need ID to buy a knife in your country

Reduce customer hassle by buying container n cookies separately with this design

Men in colourful jumpsuits capture your attention on pen's brand

Giant product category signage installed around the electronic store

How to nurture kids with a gracious heart to raise adoption rates

Mannequin with power pose max profits

Mirror integrated with clothing shelves allowing customers to quickly match with skin colour max profits

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Chic mannequin checking out some tunes

Design of marker tip caters to wider range of lines thickness

Petrol station hopes that u will keep quiet as u exit the premise

Petrol mart communicate all services at entrance with sign to max profits

Hi,

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Our Ideas, Our Ideas - Retail February 17, 2018 at 11:15AM

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