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jonnysinsectcatalogue · 3 months ago

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Square-Legged Camel Cricket - Tropidischia xanthostoma

In the darkness of a cave, the great crawling legs and thin antennae of this creature could be mistaken for those of a great spider searching for a meal. Fortunately, when the lights come on, a sigh of relief can be breathed knowing that this creature is merely a harmless Orthopteran. With how long those legs are, you can imagine the wide leg-span this insect could display while she clings to a cave wall. Its no wonder why this cave dweller is also known as a Spider Cricket (it does not shoot webs nor pounce on insect-themed supervillains). More accurately, this nocturnal friend is a Camel Cricket - of the family Rhaphidophoridae - which are known for their hunchbacked appearance, somewhat long extremities, and a lack of wings. The lattermost trait also means that they do not sing or chirp, and they aren't likely to stridulate either. As for those long extremities, this Cricket is a cave dweller and well adapted to a dark environment, relying on her stretched legs and antennae in order to interpret the environment around her. On the subject of those legs, they are the key to a successful identification! On the west coast (and going south) of North America, there are no other Orthopterous species that resemble it, but one should still make sure. All of the legs should be very long and the femurs and tibiae should be inspected. The former is lined with ridges that appear to square up the leg, and the femur is somewhat square in shape lengthwise. If you look closely, you can see fine hairs, ridges and spikes along the legs.

Although a cave dweller, this specie has retained its eyes, which is a surprise given that many cave systems may have no light source. This specie likely gets more use out of its eyes as a means to evade threats or when it ventures outside caves to streams, coasts and basements. This square-legged Cricket is likely fond of such locations due to the moisture and humidity levels. Alongside the mitigation of desiccating, the moisture is conducive for their growth and development for their whole lifespan. Speaking of which, the beauty in these images is a female as her blade-like ovipositor will tell you. Despite its sharp appearance, it isn't capable of slicing through cave stone to produce a suitable egg-laying location. Instead, eggs are placed wherever dirt is plentiful or into tiny crevices to keep them out of reach. The nymphs that hatch and explore will feed on vegetation and fungi within a cave environment. If such nutrition isn't available, they could also turn their attention to scavenging organic matter or chasing down smaller, softer insects. They're not likely to be actively predaceous, but those back legs aren't just for show. The adults in particular, are reported to be able to jump up to 30 times their body length using their dramatically elongated back legs! This aids not just in traveling long distances, but also in dispersal. All it takes is a good rainy day with reasonable humidity and you may find them leaping away to discover what awaits beyond their caves.

Pictures were taken on August 10, 2024 in Squamish with an iPhone 12 thanks to a dear friend. After pictures were taken, she (the Cricket) was returned back to the caves where she was found. Expect more posts covering this specie in the near future, including several videos.

#jonny’s insect catalogue #insect #cricket #square legged camel cricket #camel cricket #spider cricket #orthoptera #squamish #sḵwx̱wú7mesh #august2024 #2024 #nature #entomology #invertebrates #arthropods #photography #animals

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strayflowersstarsandlove · 11 months ago

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Unconditionally (hanjisung)

You climb out of your car with a flounder, the taxing 8 long hours of work catching up unto your body as you shakily put on foot in front of the other, little pieces of confetti and cookie crumbs suddenly falling to the ground like little reminders of what working with small children does to you: it leaves you in shambles, very colorful, sticky and happy shambles.

You loved working at a daycare, little hands reaching for you, brightly colored paint smudged fingerprints all over your clothes, the tiny tug at your jeans whenever a baby wanted to be picked up from the floor. The piercing headaches from all the crying and screaming. Yeah that was the best part for sure.

You ease the key in the door lock and step inside, immediately dropping your bag to the ground and shrugging your jacket off your shoulders as you walk over into the living room where you stop abruptly: all curled up on the couch, lips parted slightly in the cutest pout, messy dark hair all fluffy and rumpled, Jisung was sleeping peacefully, looking just like one of the babies you cared for today. Just a bit larger. But not even that much.

You quietly chastise yourself for leaving your bag in the hallway, for your phone would have come in so much handy right now, you have this urge to snap a pic of your cute boyfriend right now, it's almost too compelling. You grunt, completely giving into your silliest desire, and quietly walk back and fish your hands inside the mess that is your bag, pulling out the expected wallet and car keys and gums that have their usual home in there along with the odd business card you had no idea how it ended in there or the fuchsia pink lighter that you also have no idea why it's in there considering you don't smoke and none of your friends and loved ones do either.

At last, the cracked screen of your white iPhone pops out of the loose pocket that definitely needs to patch up, you open your camera and walk back into the living room and immediately snap a few pictures. Few pictures as in you circle around the couch to take photos from every possible angle and end up filling your camera roll with no less than 12 new additions.

Once you're satisfied with your photos you start to scroll through them, trying to pick one to set as your new home screen cause how could you not? You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to muffle the sound of your own giggling and that's when you see Jisung stirring in his spot, slowly blinking himself awake, looking like the sweetest most adorable creature you've ever seen: "hi sweetheart", you coo, your baby voice kicking in instantly as if you were still at the day care talking to actual babies and not your full grown adult of a boyfriend.

Jisung mumbles something incoherent, he rubs his lips together and sighs softly as he pouts again, his big brown eyes reduced to two little drowsy, shiny slits that cross a little as he still blinks so so slowly, the fluffy hair and chubby, rosy cheeks making him look ever so tiny and cute you want to cradle him and give him the biggest smooch.

"Hi", he greets you in his low, raspy, sleep ridden voice that contrasts strikingly with how tiny and vulnerable he looks at the moment, he spreads his legs and his arms out, silently inviting you to him and you waste no time, you trot to him happily, all the exhaustion from the day evaporating with your every step as your crawl over and lay right on top of him, nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck as his arms lace around you the minute you're touching him.

Now, is Jisung still sleepy as fuck and not fully able to form coherent thoughts yet? Yes. Is your body weight crushing down deliciously on him as his uncomfortable butt is stuck awkwardly on the seam in between the couch cushions? Also, yes. Is the waistband of his boxer becoming increasingly tighter with you inadvertently pressing down on him to the point where he is now getting a little too hard too fast? Absolutely. Will he do anything about it and make you move? Not in a million years. The man will literally die before he asks you to remove yourself from him.

"How was your day? You smell nice, you smell like flour and sugar", he asks quietly in your hair, placing fluttery kisses along your crown and your forehead, and you chuckle, squeezing him tighter in your embrace, positioning yourself with your ear over his steady heartbeat, "t'was good. Tiring but good. We made cookies today. I would have saved you some but when some of the dads came over to pick up their kids they polished the plates clean. Left no crumbs at all", you explain placidly, your body becoming progressively more pliable and warm as you sink into Jisung's chest and the familiar feel of his hands carding through your hair, his arms keeping a gentle but firm hold on you, his soft, buttery lips tracing invisible marks on your skin as he slowly makes his way down on your temples and your eyelids.

It feels so good. Too good, almost. To be held like that, to be cuddled so gently, it's like he slowly pouring himself out for you, emptying his honey filled heart for you so you can swim in his sweetness. "Did you have a long day? You were napping so well when I came in" you asks after a little while, propping yourself up just a little, resting your chin on top of your crossed arms displayed on his chest, poring into his pretty eyes as they become more and more awake and alert.

"Worked on a few new tracks, had two zoom meetings with the company, went back to the tracks, started writing another one, helped Changing hyung out of a writing rut, went and got groceries for Seungminnie and dropped them at his place, also retrieved new strings for his guitar since he's coming down with a bad cold and didn't feel like doing his own errands. I also briefly went shopping with Hyunjin hyung cause Jeongin dropped his ass last minute... ", he says quietly, trailing off in the end when he notices you're looking at him funny: " what? What did I say? ", he chuckles and you cup his smooth cheeks and brush them with your thumbs," you are so sweet Hannie. You cared for everyone but yourself today. Even now, I'm pretty sure you're cramping down there, and you still haven't told me to move".

Jisung shifts ever so slightly while still holding you in place, not letting you move a single inch out of his grasp as he grins at you, he loves how observant you are, loves how you pick up on every little thing about him, like how you sensed he was tired and had had a long day, how he still prioritized you being comfortable in his arms over anything else.

"No big deal. They're my brothers. And you're my baby, and my baby comes first", he declares, leaning in to kiss you slightly, "you always come first", he winks at you suggestively and you burst into giggles, burying your face in his chest abashedly as he laughs too at his own pun. Giggles rake through your bodies for a little while, the both of you so tired you end up in a chain reaction that makes you both laugh spontaneously just by looking at each other faces, and the lightness, the brightness of your laughs reverberates through your chests and you feel so happy. So in love.

It dawns on you then, settles in so stealthily yet so blatantly: you love this man unconditionally. You love this man so much you want to fill the rest of your life up with his laughter and his kisses and his colors. You want to make a life with him, in every sense.

"Jisung... I want a baby". It tumbles out of your lips so fast, so abruptly you don't even realise you said that until you see the shocked reflection of yourself into your boyfriend's eyes that seem to be just a second away from popping out of their sockets: "you... You want a baby? With me?", he speaks in tiny, his voice so high pitched, slightly quivering from the immense shock.

"Yeah... not-not right now. I mean... Sometimes in the near future? I don't know. I just know I want a a baby with you. I love you. I love you so much it's ridiculous. I think you are such a sweet, caring person, you are so sensitive and selfless. You love so intensely yet so softly all at once and you have this way of bringing everyone up when they need that the most even if it comes at your own expense, you spread so much lightness and joy and-and.. ", you bite down your lip out of nervousness, stumbling on your words as you feel your heart slowly but surely cracking up in your chest from all the emotion you're pouring out right now.

Jisung cups your cheeks, grinning so incredolously as he listens intently to every word you're saying, "and... I could probably spend the next three hours listing all the reasons why I love you and why I think you'd be a great father but point is: this is me telling you I'd love to start a family with you. Out of pure love. Some day. Whenever you're ready".

Jisungs snaps out of his trance like stare once you're done rambling and immediately crashes his lips to yours, kissing you like his whole life depends on it. Now he's fully awake and excited like you've never seen him before, "I love you. I love you I love you! You want a baby with me?!!", he keeps repeating in between kisses, his voice going squeakier and squeakier, as his hands squish your cheeks in the flurry of emotions currently pervading him, "oh my god you want a baby with me, you want my baby! My baby wants my baby!", he shouts excitedly and at this point you are laughing so much you're crying tears of joy.

"I'll give you all the babies. Give it a couple more years and I'll give you so many babies, so many babies we won't know where to fit them in hour home", he states, peppering your face with so many kisses you could pass out, even blowing raspberries on your neck and your collarbones, making you giggles so much your stomach hurts.

You both settle down after a little while, both of your heartbeats still running wildly in your chest as you can clearly tell by the fast beating underneath your palms when you rest your hands back down over your boyfriend's chest: Jisung looks so out of it right now. In the best way possible.

He holds you to his chest, breathing heavily, looking out into the nothingness and he mindlessly grins and kisses the top of your head, "you know... When I came home today i took these", you mumble, slowly reaching into your pocket to pull out your phone and show him the pics you snapped earlier, "I kept looking at you and thinking back about the children at my work and it didn't hit me then but the moment your held me like that and talked about your day and how caring you had been with the guys it just clicked. Like an epiphany. I look at those tiny babies and see how their dads interact with them everyday and I feel like I stored so many heartwarming moments inside my memories they all started to mesh into one another, like this sort of warm wave, sweeping me under, I just started thinking of you every time they resurface. I don't know if that makes sense".

Jisung tucks the hair behind your ears and looks at the photos first and then back at the happy look painted all over your face, his eyes a little shiny with withheld tears, "it makes perfect sense to me. You make perfect sense to me, I don't think I've ever told you but I've always wanted to come to work with you for a day. Sometimes I just picture you picking up a crying baby and gently patting their head and cradling them close to you and them calming down immediately, a bit like what you do with me when I get my monthly anxiety breakdowns".

He smiles fondly before continuing, his eyes getting lost and distant as he speaks, "and then I picture myself just laying down on the floor of their little playground and just letting them crawl all over me and play with my hair and holding them and giving them so many cuddles", he trails off quietly, his eyes beaming back down at you, "I want that with you. I always did. You have a way of nurturing those around you that is just so rare. Those kids are so lucky, I'm so lucky. I can't wait for you to be a mom, I can't wait to have a baby with you".

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imkumichan · 2 years ago

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CoD x Ex!Child soldier!Reader [Hound]

Warning: implied child soldier.

Reader's callsign is Hound.

The young girl is standing among people, her black leggings cover her legs, and a big red turtleneck sweater covers her feminine figure. She was waiting for the lamp to turn green. Looking ahead while silently thinking about how the man a few feet on her right could have died thrice if he kept looking at his phone without being aware of his surroundings.

Blinking slowly, Hound looked down at the newest iPhone, which was bought by her foster parent in his hand.

12:17 Kate

Come to the base tomorrow, you will meet the rest of the team there.

One thing that she learned during the military is that you have to make sure you know who you are dealing with. It's not like Hound doesn't trust Laswell. She is just curious about who's gonna be her handler superior. She knows she's not supposed to do this, but when she asks her 'mother', wow she never thought she would ever use that word, about Captain Price, she just smiled and said that he knows what he's doing and that doesn't need to worry. But didn't elaborate on anything else. So she figures she will just find out herself. After all, not all surprises are good surprises.

The lamp turned from red to green, signaling that now they could cross the street. Hound didn't immediately walk. She lets some people walk first before stepping on her feet.

Walking among the people, for a girl in her age is quite an advantage. She could mingle without getting caught. Nobody will bat an eye at her. And she will use it in her favor.

She's not called Hound for no reason. She will hunt her targets and get them done.

Just like now.

Captain Jonathan Price

he is too, walking crossing the street among people, wearing a dark blue jacket with lighter shades of blue jeans, a dark brown beanie hat, and black boots. He is sure passed as a civilian. Normal people would pay no glance at him, but for someone like him who had a battlefield as a playground, she must admit he has a certain aura around him. His body language basically screamed animal of prey. He reminded her of her late superior.

As the Hound and the captain crossed with each other, she waited until both of them are on the other side of the street. Then, turned her head slightly as her eyes followed the man's movement, memorizing how the way he was walking, how he tried to look at ease but actually won't fool eyes like hers. Hound thinks that the man has good intuition because the man has slowed down and turned around just before he looks back at her front.

Then, Hound continues to walk away, leaving the man who's probably scanning the crowd around because he feels eyes burning on his back.

Tomorrow she will meet him again, and she will meet her soon-to-be superiors. But now, she has some groceries to buy.

#call of duty x reader #cod x reader #captain john price #child soldier au #Hound #cod mw2

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fcble · 8 days ago

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LOOSE ENDS — A collection of drabbles to pick up the threads I started months ago. TOTAL WORD COUNT: 3.0k FEATURING: Yoon Mingeun, Kang Haksu, Andrew Han, Ahn Jinguk, Lee Taein, Oh Kiyoung, The Midas Touch

JULY 2024. A direct epilogue to this drabble. Previously posted as screenshots on my main but I don't think anyone saw that so here we go again.

Two hours after having his phone confiscated, Mingeun knocks on Haksu's bedroom door.

Haksu opens it, looking clean and put together for someone just sitting in his room. Sitting in his room, and likely eavesdropping on everything they said. "I heard what happened," he says, confirming Mingeun's suspicions.

He steps inside, trying not to look too closely at the Bible on Haksu's bedside table, or the cross hanging above his bed, the only decoration on otherwise spotless wall. A diffuser sits on top his dresser, filling the room with a faint pine scent.

Haksu shuffles through the dresser for a moment, and tosses three iPhone boxes onto his bed. They're all slightly different variants of the iPhone 15, in blue and white and black.

"You can have any of them," Haksu says. "I don't know why our fans keep giving me iPhones when I use a Samsung."

Mingeun doesn't get gifts like that. Haksu has his phones, and Andrew received a high-end laptop. He must be doing something wrong.

He doesn't say anything, just points to the plastic container in Haksu's hands. "What's that?"

Haksu opens the lid, and that's when Mingeun realizes it's full of index cards. "SIM cards."

There must be fifteen or so in the box, by his best judgement. Each index card has the SIM card taped to it, with a phone number across the top and a series of dates running down the right side of the card.

"You keep these?" Mingeun asks, plucking one out of the box. The dates on it cover the end of 2022 and a few months of 2023.

"I trade them in if they get really bad," Haksu says. "The company pays for most of these. I switch them out when I need to."

He flicks through the container and eventually pulls out a card that looks no different from the rest of the cards. "Here. I haven't used this one in a while. You probably won't get too many calls."

The most recent date on it is June 2022. Mingeun accepts it, and tries to peel the card off without ripping the paper. The paper rips anyway.

He looks at the phones again. "This is fine with you? I can take it?"

Haksu nods impatiently. He produces a pen from somewhere and adds a new line to the index card: Mingeun's name and July 2024 to an unknown date. "I don't use them."

Mingeun picks the blue one, because it's the most basic model. His own phone is still the 12. The upgrade doesn't feel right, not when it happened because Daewoong confiscated his phone.

"Thanks," he says awkwardly.

Haksu waves him off. "Don't worry about it." The cards and the two remaining phones disappear back into his dresser, and Mingeun is left clutching his new phone like a lifeline.

SEPTEMBER 2024. A sequel to this drabble.

Andrew's second visit to the Danyoung Group is no less intimidating than the first. It doesn't have to be a meeting at all. It could be an email. A text message. An Instagram DM. Does Jinguk even use Instagram? Probably not.

His answer is one word. In hindsight, it's ridiculous he even thought otherwise. All it took was spending a day almost, but not quite, third-wheeling with Jaeseop and Jaeseop's girlfriend, Seoyeon. It wasn't supposed to be like that. It was supposed to be an outing for Fable on one of Jaeseop's rare days off, with Seoyeon accompanying them only because Jaeseop had so few days off. Then the rest of the group started dropping like flies in the days leading up their lunch: Kiyoung and Intak at the premiere of an anime film, Haksu on something akin to a date of his own, Byeonghwi doing something he's been incredibly cagey about, and Mingeun's second or third bout of house arrest this year. Andrew's lost count.

The lack of an audience at lunch gave Andrew the courage to ask Jaeseop about his predicament, and Jaeseop the freedom to chew out Andrew in public—all while Seoyeon sat there quietly and ate her food.

The direct consequence of that day is today. This time, Andrew takes the elevator to the ninth floor, and heads down the hall until he reaches the room labeled 923 in gold text on a shiny black plaque. He knocks first, then pushes the door open without waiting for a response.

The first thing he notices is that the view from the ninth floor isn't much different from the view from the fifteenth. This room, too, has a wall made entirely of glass. Better to lord over the people below you with, Andrew thinks.

He bows politely to Jinguk, standing near the window and doing the very lording Andrew was just thinking of. "Good afternoon."

"It's good to see you again, Andrew," Jinguk says. The words themselves might be warm, but the delivery lacks any sort of emotion. "Have you given any thought to my proposal?"

Straight to the point. Andrew hasn't even taken a seat. To be fair, he doesn't think he wants to take a seat. It's a far cry from the waffling Taein tends to do.

"I have," he says, hovering uncertainly near one of the two chairs in the room.

"Have a seat, and we'll talk." Despite his words, Jinguk doesn't make a move.

Andrew sits, against his better judgement. "I appreciate your offer," he says—calm, practiced, rehearsed, like he's staring down a camera—"but I'm going to have to decline. I'm staying with Fable." His heart jackhammers wildly in his chest, and he has to make a conscious effort to keep his knee from bouncing up and down.

"I suspected as much," Jinguk says. "I hoped you'd be more pragmatic."

Andrew is pragmatic. He's so pragmatic he knows he stands to lose too much if he leaves Fable now. And he's done his research on C Entertainment's artists. He sees two potential paths in that future: being indefinitely shelved or constantly scrutinized for payola.

He gives a half-hearted shrug. "I don't know if you're looking for pragmatism. You might want to try selfishness or greed. I can recommend Mingeun or Haksu." He doubts either of them would take Jinguk's deal, though he knows they'd be tempted in the same way he was.

Jinguk's expression grows stormy. His brow tightens, and he fixes Andrew with a disapproving look. "You must not understand the magnitude of your decision. This is not the sort of opportunity anyone can receive. They are liabilities, more so than you."

But Andrew is a liability too. He champions for himself, enough to butt heads with Mingeun on a wide range of topics. He'll bend and bend and bend—he had to, to debut—but he won't break. There are parts of himself he can't give up on, and that, he thinks, makes him more of a liability than someone like Mingeun. He doesn't say any of that out loud.

"They're people," he says, "not liabilities."

"This is a business, and you are an idol. It is a lesson both you and Taein-ssi have yet to learn." Jinguk's bottom lip curves up in a sneer.

Andrew doesn't know what he has to do with Taein. The side he picked, the battle line he drew in the sand. Something like that.

"It's unfortunate you have yet to come to your senses," Jinguk continues, though he doesn't sound disappointed or resigned in the slightest. He checks the time on his impossibly shiny watch. "My two pm will arrive shortly. I assume you know your way out."

Andrew nods quickly. He recognizes a dismissal when he hears one, and he's only too happy to leave. "If I ever come to my senses, you'll be the first to know."

As he leaves, he can't shake the feeling that he got off too easily, like he willing walked into the jaws of the beast and emerged unscathed. Jinguk appeared to respect Andrew's answer, even if he didn't appear to respect Andrew himself. It'll dog him, he knows, one more enigmatic piece in the puzzle of Jinguk's design.

OCTOBER 2024. Live Haksu reaction to this article.

"What is this?" Haksu asks. He pinches a sheet of paper between two fingers, as if it's poisonous. The glaring headline on the printed article reads, "Zenith Entertainment to Press Charges Against Fable Sasaeng." It's hard to read in the dim parking garage lighting, but Haksu has already committed the important parts to memory.

Taein's gaze, bored and disinterested, flicks over the paper and then Haksu. "It's what you wanted." He steps left in a valiant effort to get to his car.

Haksu mirrors his movements. If he could have snuck into his office to borrow his car keys, he would have. As it is, he has to settle for body-blocking his boss instead. "No, it's not. This is loud and messy. I wanted something discrete."

"Like a hit man," Taein says drily. He makes another unsuccessful attempt to get to the driver's side door of his car.

Haksu shrugs. That would be preferable. He folds the paper in half. Over the past couple of months, he's learned how to play Eunmyeong's game, picked up all her rules and added a few of his own. He's managing so far, by himself. He doesn't need Taein's lawsuit interfering with his carefully arranged house of cards.

"She never assaulted me," he says.

"Not everything is about you."

This is. Haksu knows that for a fact. From the moment he read the headline, he knew the anonymous A was Eunmyeong. No one else followed him home. He doesn't need to be a detective. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together could figure that out.

"Think about it, Haksu," Taein says. He rolls his shoulders back. "I'd like to leave work today."

Haksu doesn't budge. "Do you think this will stop her?"

"As much as I'd like to be able to predict the future, I can't say what she will or will not do." He levels a piercing gaze at Haksu. "Don't you know her better?"

There's an accusation in there, if he can be bothered to find it. He's been on more pseudo-dates with her than he'd like to admit. Not enough to have lost count, but enough to recognize certain pillars of their otherwise tenuous relationship. He would know her, if their relationship was more even. As it stands, she's so obsessed with him that they don't talk about much else. Haksu only knows what her last name is because she told his mom. He doesn't know when her birthday is. He doesn't know where she lives or where she grew up or what her favorite food is.

"I don't know her at all," he answers. "Why did it take you this long to press charges?"

"Proper legal cases take time," Taein says, forming each word slowly, as if they cause him physical pain.

Haksu opens his mouth.

"For the second time, Haksu, I don't have any mafia connections you can take advantage of."

Haksu closes his mouth.

Taein continues to speak. "I wouldn't go through with this if there wasn't a reasonable chance the charges would stick. Have faith."

If there's one thing Haksu has, it's faith. He has faith in spades. His faith only falters when it comes to Taein. He should trust his boss more. He doesn't. He steps aside reluctantly, finally giving Taein access to his car.

Taein doesn't even thank him. All he does is pull the driver's side door open and say, "It's not your problem to worry about. Focus on your work, and don't go around giving phone numbers to your group members."

Haksu takes personal offense to that. He tamps it down and responds with his usual decorum instead. "Good night, sajangnim." He doesn't think Taein hears him. The door slams closed as he speaks.

Taein's headlights cast dramatic shadows as Haksu turns tail, shredding the paper as he goes. He doesn't see a problem with giving Mingeun a new phone number—and a new phone. He doesn't approve of everything Mingeun does, but he doesn't have to. He was just doing his duty as a friend.

He pauses as he reaches the fresh evening air, the breeze a welcome respite from the stuffiness of the inside of the garage. Haksu stuffs the shreds of paper into his pockets. Taein can do whatever he wants. Fine. So can he. He wonders if she knows she's going to court soon. It would be courteous to warn her, wouldn't it? He watches Taein's Mazda make a sharp right and nearly bowl over a pedestrian. Then he slips his phone out of his back pocket and writes a quick text.

OCTOBER 2024. Not a sequel to anything. It's more of an update of what Kiyoung is up to and the relevance of The Midas Touch to Fable.

As a collective, The Midas Touch is louder, rowdier, and more energetic than Kiyoung remembers being at their age. The excitement of a newly debuted group is palpable, but not quite contagious. That, and it pales in comparison to the sheer malice simply radiating from Haksu.

"Who pissed you off?" he mutters under his breath, adjusting the mic pack clipped to the back of his waist band more than he should.

"None of your business," Haksu mutters back.

"You'll keep it together?"

"Of course." The words are sharp. He corrects himself a moment later, softening into a more relaxed posture and expression. "I always do." He has the gall to wink at Kiyoung.

It's uncomfortable, watching the ease at which Haksu slides between his true feelings and his perfect image. Kiyoung suppresses a shudder.

Their role today is a supporting one. It's an extremely staged moment in The Midas Touch's extremely staged day. The idea is to present them with the same friendly and relatable boy-next-door image they built as trainees. Kiyoung thinks there are other groups who already occupy that niche, but he's not their creative director or management in any way.

The original plan was for him and Haksu to make a brief appearance to congratulate them on their first music show win. It was supposed to appear spontaneous. That plan fell through last week, when it became very apparent that TMT would be the runner-up to a project group Kiyoung's never hehrd of. Almost all of their music is in English, with the excepption of the song they promoted to win a week's worth of music shows.

So the script was rewritten, and now Kiyoung and Haksu are congratulating them on their debut. Never mind the fact that they already did that, right after TMT's music show debut, back when Fable was promoting their own album. This time is different because Haksu has a cake. He also has strict instructions to give it to Shinji, according to the script Kiyoung read a couple of hours ago. Shinji is, according to the same script, the clumsiest member by far.

He suspects someone is already prepared to clean frosting off the floor.

The long-awaited signal from the couple of supervising producers—a frantic flurry of waving, gesturing, and ushering—finally arrives. The smallest glance sideways tells Kiyoung Haksu is immaculately prepared. He has his cake, and he's turned down the malice to a less overpowering level.

Kiyoung gets the door. He makes it two steps into the room before there are three handheld cameras focused on him—an important part of TMT's relatability. They're greeted with overlapping cries of, "Sunbaenim! You didn't have to!" and "Haksu-hyung, is that for us?"

Kiyoung feels sorry for the editors who have to piece this footage together.

Haksu unceremoniously shoves the cake towards Shinji. The eldest member of the group, Elias, swoops in and intercepts it instead. "He'll drop it," he says, balancing both the cake and his camera.

"That might be the point," Kiyoung concedes quietly.

Though he looks loathe to play along, Elias passes it back to Shinji.

"Congratulations on your debut," Haksu says, an ever-consummate professional.

Then, message delivered, he surprises Kiyoung by making a beeline back towards the door.

Kiyoung grabs him by the wrist. "You can't leave," he hisses under his breath.

"You can come too," Haksu says, tugging his wrist free.

Kiyoung jerks his head towards TMT. "They're filming." A camera is usually the magic switch that gets Haksu to play nice.

Haksu turns around and flashes his usual charismatic smile. "Can you please cut the cameras?" he asks, tone syrupy sweet.

"Deadass?" Arjun asks from behind his own camera. All five of them break into sycophantic laughter.

Kiyoung assumes the cameras are still rolling. "He's not usually like this," he says, making a rather pathetic attempt to salvage the remnants of Haksu's image.

A silent look passes through the group, communicating something Kiyoung can't even begin to imagine.

Elias seems to speak for all of them when he says, "I thought so." He angles his camera back to Haksu. "Anything else for today's TMT Log?"

He's giving them a way out. Kiyoung nearly sags with relief.

Haksu seems to compose himself, straightening up and clasping his hands together. "The Midas Touch are our very precious juniors who recently made their debut. They've worked very hard to get to where they are today. Please make sure to show them lots of love and support!" He rattles off a few lines that are much more fitting of his usual persona.

Elias gives them a little nod, and this time, when Haksu runs for the door, Kiyoung doesn't stop him. He recites his own parting message, spit-balling whatever comes to mind—another congratulatory message, a half-plea to the editors to showcase Haksu in a positive light, permission to visit Fable whenever they'd like.

"I thought you said you could keep it together," Kiyoung says quietly as soon as they're in the hallway again. He suspects most of that footage will be cut. Shinji didn't even drop the cake.

Haksu flicks his bangs out of his eyes. "I did."

They have very different definitions of keeping it together, he thinks, disconnecting his microphone. Whatever is happening in Haksu's head is something he'd never confess to Kiyoung.

"Everything is fine," Haksu says.

Kiyoung suspects this is supposed to be reassuring. He doesn't believe it at all.

#╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ writing. ]#╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ mingeun. ]#╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ yejun. ]#╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ haksu. ]#╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ kiyoung. ]#fictional idol community #kpop oc #idol oc #fake kpop group

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iwaoiness · 1 year ago

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Orbit return

to not know who i am but still know that i'm good long as you're here with me

When they are eight years old and learn in class what the orbit and the planets and the stars and the universe are, Iwaizumi decides that on Oikawa's birthday he will no longer say happy birthday, but happy orbit return. It's funny, original, and the first time he does it, Oikawa is speechless; his jaw almost unhinges and his round, beady eyes widen like saucers. Then he lunges at Hajime, latching onto him like a koala bear. Iwaizumi screams at him, staggering as he wraps his little arms around him as best he can to keep them both from falling. Oikawa whispers thank you, Hajime-chan close to his ear, and Hajime feels a huge flip inside his chest, heat building up in his cheeks. He frowns, trying to conceal it, before whispering back you're welcome, dummy.

And it becomes a tradition. Every year, while the world congratulates Oikawa on his birthday, Iwaizumi congratulates him on his orbit return. He does it in person, gets the same koala hug (each year a little heavier), the same thank you, Hajime (at some point, Oikawa’s voice becomes deeper), and his heart gives the same leap within his chest (he eventually discovers it's not a medical pathology, but love). And when they are old enough to have social networks, he does it with photos as well.

Contrary to what he may appear to be, Iwaizumi actually enjoys taking pictures and posting them. His Instagram has an incredible aesthetic pattern (to Matsukawa and Hanamaki's surprise), with a polaroid or vintage filter that imbues them with nostalgia and timelessness, and sometimes he edits them for a subtle blur effect that encourages to look for the details hidden within. He alternates images of himself, friends and family with stunning angle shots of cityscapes, mountain landscapes, beaches at sunsets and sunrises. And in most of these images, constant and enduring as in Iwaizumi's own life, there is a small part of Oikawa (whether it's his backpack, his hand, his Star Wars socks, his hair, his glasses).

And every July 20, Tooru is the complete protagonist. The first photo he posts to congratulate him is one they take when they are 12 years old; the two of them are sitting next to each other in front of the full-length mirror in Tooru's sister's room. Oikawa’s smiling broadly at his reflection with a victory gesture, Hajime holding his mobile phone between them with one hand, smiling softly. Happy 12nd orbit return, Sillykawa.

The next one is at thirteen, this time, Oikawa alone, in Kitagawa Daiichi's gymnasium. He is lying face up, all sweaty and messy hair, but with an amused smile painted on his face, directed at Iwaizumi's IPhone camera. A Mikasa ball rests between his knees, his hands spread across his chest. Happy 13rd orbit return, Stupidkawa.

The next is at the age of fourteen. On one of Okinawa's beaches during the Oikawa-Iwaizumi's annual family trip, Tooru is underwater, leaning face down towards Hajime's new GoPro camera, his diving goggles covering half his face, his hair waving upwards, the static bubbles around his mouth curving into a wide grin, and his favourite swimming costume crammed with prints of all the Pokémon. In his hand, he holds a sea star, which he proudly shows. Happy 14th orbit return, Mermaidkawa.

The next one is fifteen years old. The two of them appear again, in a vertical selfie where each face occupies exactly half of the image. Their eyes, golden brown and moss green, at the same height. Pale skin and tanned skin contrasting with each other. Subtly wrinkled nose and upturned nose. Toothy smile and soft smile, inches apart. Happy 15th orbit return, Idiotkawa.

The next is at the age of sixteen. Oikawa sits in the cool shade of a tree on the hill where they went climbing, his back against the trunk and his fringes pulled back by a black headband. He holds a loaf of milk bread with both hands at lip level, and his round, glistening eyes behind his glasses look into the camera, crinkled at the sides by the smile. Happy 16th orbit return, Breadkawa.

The next one is seventeen years old. A volleyball net in the background, Oikawa's back, the one Iwaizumi has watched grow up all his life, in the foreground, sheathed in the Aoba Johsai shirt, this time, with the number one printed on it. Happy 17th orbit return, captain.

The next one is at the age of eighteen. This time it's just their hands, Tooru's and Hajime's, intertwined and somewhat blurred on the gear lever of Iwa-mum’s car. There is a silver ring gleaming on Oikawa's ring finger, another on Iwaizumi's. Happy 18th orbit return, babe.

The next one is at the age of nineteen. It is a photograph of another photograph that Iwaizumi is holding in one hand. The photograph is an old one, from when they were both nine years old. They are sitting on the porch (the same one in front of which Hajime is aligning the photograph perfectly with the landscape), their little legs just grazing the grass of Grandma Oikawa's house, each one holding a large slice of watermelon in their little hands. Hajime is puffy-cheeked from the fruit, head tilted towards Tooru's, who is laughing, a black seed stuck to his chin. Happy 19th orbit return, Toto. I miss u.

The next one is at the age of twenty. They are in front of the mirror in the cosy bathroom of Oikawa's small Argentinean flat, Iwaizumi standing, covering his face with his mobile phone, dressed only in the official sweatpants of the Argentinean men's volleyball team and an 85-kilogram Tooru hanging on him like a koala bear. Oikawa, dressed in old basketball shorts and all his strong back exposed (with some blue kinesiotape strips on his shoulders), hides his face in Iwa’s neck, the strands of his hair pointing in a thousand different directions, his strong legs wrapping around Iwaizumi's waist. Hajime's free arm effortlessly holds him, securely positioned under his backside. Happy 21st spin into orbit, Spoiltkawa.

The next is at the age of twenty-two. Tooru is sitting behind the low table in Hanamaki's flat, with a plastic crown full of artistic doodles (courtesy of the children at the kindergarten where Makki has started working) balanced on his head and a chocolate, banana and strawberry volleyball-shaped cake in front of him with the 27 candles lit (Mattsun and Hajime couldn't find a second number two candle in any of Miyagi's six fucking bazaars, so they bought a second number 7 because think of it as a long-term investment, by the time you're 27, we'll have the candles ready; the fact that they are single-use candles is just a small irrelevant detail). His eyes sparkled brighter and more golden than ever in the orange candlelight, his lips open in a wide smile that revealed his whitish, lined teeth, with those big palettes. Happy 22nd (or 27th lol) orbit return, Oldkawa.

The next one is at the age of twenty-three. They were only able to meet once that year, so Iwaizumi rescues one of the photographs they took at that time, on Takeru's birthday, with a costume theme because he was looking forward to it and wanted to turn fifteen as Spiderman. And it was precisely Takeru who took the picture of them, because Iwaizumi taught him and he is very good at it ("definitely, much better than your uncle", "I heard you, Iwa-chan!"). They appear shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed, Hajime disguised as Zoro (with the green suit completely unbuttoned at the bottom, showing his entire solid muscular torso, black military boots and three plastic katanas hanging from his waist; the black ribbon covering all his green dyed hair and the three shiny earrings hanging from his ear) and Oikawa disguised as Sanji (with the wine-coloured suit tight to his beauty body, the black shirt with the first buttons unbuttoned, a loosely tied white tie, the fringe falling over his eye and a fake cigarette dangling from his lips). Happy 23rd orbit return, Shitty cook.

The next is at the age of twenty-four. Oikawa, wearing an old Hajime shirt and blue boxer shorts, peers out from the bathroom doorframe, a frog-shaped headband tucking his hair back and an avocado-green mask covering his entire face. He gives the camera an amused grimace, his eyes squinting, nose gently wrinkled, cheeks puffed out and lips pursed as if he were blowing a kiss. Happy 24th orbit return, my pretty boy.

The next one is at the age of twenty-five. In a supermarket car park in Seville during a romantic getaway in Spain. Oikawa is sitting on the still-empty supermarket trolley, his legs bent because he is too tall. He is grinning from ear to ear under the baseball cap of Iwaizumi, whose hand is peeking over the edge of the photograph holding the handle of the trolley. Happy 25th orbit return, mi alma.

The next is at the age of twenty-six. Oikawa is deeply asleep between the sheets in Hajime's new flat in Shibuya. He is curled up on his stomach with one leg bent (because he is apparently against holding a single position when sleeping) his head hanging off the pillow and the thin sheet draped over his hips. He is wearing Iwaizumi's trainer's uniform shirt and has one of the most spectacular bedheads. Iwaizumi's hand is on his cheek, his thumb on the bone. Happy 26th orbit return, Tooru.

The most recent photo is the twenty-seven-year-old. Tooru appears happy, radiant, beautiful, and glorious sunder the stadium floodlights, his Argentinean national team shirt clinging to his torso with sweat, like the strands of his hair on his forehead; the skin around his eyes is subtly reddened by the explosion of emotions that brought him down in the middle of the court after scoring the winning point. He bites the gold medal they just won at the Olympics, his lips raised in a giant smile that he can't and won't wipe off. Happy 27th orbit return, my love. You have no idea how proud I’m of you.

...

u can find this and more on my ao3 🌻

#haikyuu!!#iwaizumi hajime #iwaoi #oikawa tooru #oikawa x iwaizumi #haikyuu #hq fluff #iwaizumi fluff #oikawa fluff #drabble #hq drabble #haikyuu drabble #iwaizumi has instagram #and posts a lot of photos #athletic trainer iwaizumi #pro volleyball oikawa #can someone do fanarts of this i beg u #fic on ao3

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miggylol · 5 months ago

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Life organization tip for anyone on Mac OS:

A lot of people don't know about the built-in Reminders software on Mac OS (and iOS). It's sitting in your Applications folder / on your iPhone with this icon:

While you can use it to remind yourself of upcoming one-off responsibilities, what I use it for most frequently is daily stuff. Because you can set it to repeat as frequently as you want to!

After you make a reminder, you can click on the little info circle that the pink arrow is pointing to:

and see the interface below pop up. Notice where the blue arrow's pointing to? That's where you can make the reminder repeat as frequently as you want to.

You can set it to repeat daily, or every 12 hours, or every 3 days, or... you get the idea.

The really nifty thing about this is that, when a reminder pops up, it does so on every linked device. (You can adjust exactly how it appears in your system settings.) For me, I get an obnoxious notification banner appear on my home computer, my work computer, and my phone. It pops up in the corner of my screen even if I have a full-screen app covering everything. I can dismiss the reminder, but until I actually click the little button indicating that I've done the task, it keeps coming back.

That means that you basically can't forget to do something. It also means that if the banner's gone, you have done the task. Which is really good for, say... medications!

I have medicated eyedrops that I need to apply twice daily, and if I question myself about that an hour later, there is zero visible indicator of whether I've actually used up two (2) more drops out of that whole bottle. But since the reminder banner is gone, I'm sure that yes, I actually used it this morning! And if I know that I'm going to be out this evening, I can take the bottle with me, apply it away from home, and dismiss the evening reminder via my phone. It still "counts," since things are linked.

I've found this an invaluable way to make sure I confidently get daily/weekly/monthly/whatever things done, like:

Using medications

Cleaning the catbox

Watering plants

Check in on work tasks

And I never have to double-guess myself about whether I've actually done a task!

This is obviously an Apple-specific life tip, but there's surely some equivalent for other platforms. But anyway, yeah! The Reminders application! It's on your desktop/laptop/phone/watch/etc. right this second, waiting to be used.

#life tips

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janarthanan · 3 months ago

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Kapaver Big Freedom Sale: Durable and Trendy Mobile Back Covers

Get ready for the Kapaver Big Freedom Sale, where you can find durable and trendy mobile back covers at unbeatable prices! This is your chance to upgrade your phone with stylish covers that not only look great but also provide top-notch protection. Kapaver’s collection offers something for everyone, whether you prefer bold, modern designs or sleek, classic styles. Don’t miss out on this fantastic opportunity to enhance your phone’s appearance and safeguard it from everyday wear and tear. Shop now and take advantage of these amazing deals before they’re gone!

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celltophone · 2 years ago

Link

Slim case, slide cover for protecting and covering the cameras perfectly.

With the iPhone 11 full body case, no extra fees for a glass lens protector.

PRECISE CUT-OUTS MAKE SURE THEY ARE ACCURATE FOR KEY POSITIONS WHICH MIGHT BRING YOU A NO-CASE TOUCH FEELING

Anti-fingerprint, no greasy.

The 0.5mm higher screen edge and the 0.2mm higher lens design

#camera shutter cover iphone 11 back cover with camera protection iphone 12 shutter case mobile cover with front camera shutter shutter cover

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the-puffinry · 2 years ago

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this is wild. Don't upload pics your stolen paintings to print on pillows I guess.

The Worcester Art Museum is on the verge of recovering a painting nearly 45 years after a brazen art heist—and it’s all thanks to an $18 throw pillow.

The robbery took place way back in 1978, at the Worcester home of Helen and Robert Stoddard. He was a former museum trustee who had promised to donate much of his art collection to the institution. Under cover of night, burglars made off with 12 pieces currently estimated to be worth $10 million, including an Pierre-Auguste Renoir canvas and a J.M.W. Turner watercolor.

[...]

A simple reverse image search of the 17th-century Dutch master’s winter scene by Schorer turned up a throw pillow featuring a print of the canvas—but in much higher fidelity than any known photographs taken of the work prior to the theft.

And it wasn’t just the pillow. At Pixels.com, which sells merchandise on demand, you could put the painting, listed as the work of Barent Avercamp—Hendrick’s nephew and student—on an iPhone case, a canvas tote bag, a puzzle, and even a face mask, among other products.

So when he found the Avercamp throw pillow, Schorer trusted his instincts. He downloaded the image of the painting and found a clue embedded in the metadata. There was the name of an art library, as well as a New York art dealer. He called the dealer, who remembered the painting from a 1995 art fair, but said that a now-defunct gallery had conducted the sale.

After four months of research, Schorer tracked down the niece of that dealer, who in turn dug through the old company records to identify the buyers. Schorer estimates it cost less than $200,000—a bargain considering that Avercamp’s auction record is $8.6 million, according to the Artnet Price Database.

Somewhere along the way, it appears someone had altered the painting’s signature to read “B. Avercamp” instead of “H. Avercamp,” making it easier to move the stolen work on the open market. Barent’s top price at auction is just £378,000 ($460,919).

The owners, a Dutch couple, had since died, so Schorer sent a letter to their heirs on behalf of the museum in 2021, looking to make arrangements for the work’s return. They never responded.

This month, Schorer had a Dutch lawyer reach out, with a warning that after 40 days, the museum would instigate a criminal case in the Netherlands. He’s hopeful that the painting’s recovery is now close at hand.

#art theft #heists #paintings #Hendrick Avercamp

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37q · 2 years ago

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so yall know i gotta lor sis righ. well. fuck dude. those obligations from earlier. part rant part support seeking skip to the very end for that second part

context. 17 y/o not in school, homeless, lowkey estranged from her parents. father is unemployed and lying abt it, abusive and his ego is constantly reacting to his material precaritys impact on his manhood, sits at my old shop all day doing nothing. mom, actually employed, covering for dad, also used to work at my old shop before being fired for stealing a stack of cash, getting worse w her precarity and also sits at the shop a lot a lot. no idea where her lor bro sleeps. no idea how old he is too, could be 12 in an 8 year olds body for all i kno

so i pick her up at 1030, we go to the mall and check the ubreakifix type place and they dont work on iphone 8s. bet. we have a spare XR she bought off her big bro. missing sim tray, got a free replacement from the shop. go to the apple store, the XR is permalocked unless factory reset from the icloud acct tethered to the device (truly dystopian imo), schedule genius bar appt for tmrw at 11. take her back to her friends house, the one i hired a month before i left so she could have a comrade and a place to stay nearish work that isnt her moms (although they were kicked out of their motel right when i hired steven i think. so, unhappy coincidence?).

sis works then so i drop her off at work at 9 and take her phone w me. go home come back to the mall. genius at the bar says its busted, whatever. not like i been sayin that. its missing like the bottom 1/5 of the backing like straight up exposed circuitry and she leans it on its bottom edge on whatever flat surface she can find at her perpetually wet food service job. refurbished options more expensive than the cheap 'new' products, not saying much tho. deliver busted phone and info to her -- her mom and dad are there ofc -- go home. later pick her up that night (last night) and drive her to her gfs in the heights. oh also dropping steven and their mutual friend off at stevens on the way. whatever its like literally en route its actually kinda perfect every time.

apparently im picking her up this morning. Okay. oh yeah shes locked out of her paycard account. she locks the card when shes at 0 in case she gets an auto withdrawal thatll overdraft her. she got paid today so she was gonna unlock it but how did she access her acct previously? thumbprint. no password memory whatsoever. pretty fair, id say? she texted me asking for the last 4 of her SSN this morning. nobody picked up her call to the bank(?) until she called them in the car with me. the form required to change login credentials when u dont have account access required those digits and a form of photo id. no ability to access it from her ADP because the pw changed at some point but it still took her print.

reminder. shes homeless and out of school. she has a birth certificate but thats where my certainty of her documentation ends. ive run into this before where i wanted to start a real bank acct for her but they require legally viable photo id and even non driver state ids require 1. proof of permanent residence (X) and 2. proof of enrollment in school for minors (X) at the MVA.

so anyways weve kinda hit a wall with the limitations her unsupportive parents / guardians have provided! its taking up a large portion of my emotional, mental, physical, and temporal space in life right now so i wanted to make a post about it. my little bandaid desire is to at least set her up with a new phone which i estimate would be $200 minimum for actual 'verified third party vendors of used phones' but ugh i didnt budget for this.

oh the support seeking! if you know me and wanna ease the load on my sisters shoulders a but, id be grateful for some help raising funds for a new phone! ill include some $ links. if were unacquainted but youre reading this anyway and have a spare $5 wed love the support! thanks for reading :)

cashapp: $rmwperfect | venmo: @rmwperfect | paypal: @37q

#fuck it ill edit links in since its not letting me paste anything

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