#immediately made me think of harumichi

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

sending you Michiru and Makoto :)

:'D aaa thank you!!

Michiru: (whom @docholligay also asked for 👀)

Why I like them: she's beauty. she's grace. she's the most dangerous person in the room. she's dragging me for filth and I'm thanking her for deigning to notice I exist at all

Why I don’t: hmm... well I don't like that she's never canonically kissed her wife onscreen I'll tell you that :(

Favorite episode (scene if movie): that special with the creepy puppet is like PEAK Michiru for me

Favorite season/movie: I still can't make myself watch Stars even though I know there's good things there, so that only leaves S :(

Favorite line: she has so many good lines. probably the one that guts me most though for a bazillion reasons: I like your hands.

Favorite outfit: this blue dress ;-;

OTP: Harumichi. is there even another answer to this one

Brotp: REALLY this is Doc's fault since it's entirely based on how she writes their dynamic but Rei!

Headcanon: this is just bc I think it'd be really funny but I don't think she can sing, like, at all. master violinist but if she sings in the shower Haruka comes knocking on the door like are you dying?? are you okay?? I have my sword ready!!

Unpopular opinion: I didn't think it was unpopular due to the circles I run in but apparently some people think she's naturally and uncomplicatedly kindhearted and nice?? that woman is made of marble and displayed behind velvet ropes and you will never touch her. sorry.

A wish: I think she should get to stab someone. as a treat

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: if Haruka dies before she does the world is ending

5 words to best describe them: (counting on my fingers.) carefully composed silk-covered steel.

Mako:

Why I like them: buff bi femmes with big hair are exactly my type 😞 AND she's a sweetheart, and honest to a fault, and sometimes a little bit dense, and reckless with her own safety for the sake of people she cares about, and -

Why I don’t: this is not her fault but I find the "a new crush every day" trope a little tired :/

Favorite episode (scene if movie): my immediate reaction is 147... 🥺 as with all the heart mirror/crystal/doodad of the week stuff there's some stuff we are not talking about but. there are also,, some very good things. also really enjoy 105 as a Mako-centric episode!!

Favorite season/movie: this is such a tough one. the first season I guess?? I like seeing the dynamics between everyone form ahaha

Favorite line: "I'M THE ONE WITH THE MOST TALENT HERE"

Favorite outfit: ROSE DRESS ROSE DRESS ROSE DRESS

OTP: Makoami...... shocking approximately no one lol

Brotp: Usagi! I like their friendship a lot :')

Headcanon: she doesn't have room for a garden given she lives in an apartment but I just know she has a bunch of little herb plants in pots on her windowsills. the mint is quarantined to its own window though after she lost her first rosemary plant to it deciding it needed ALL the pots for itself, actually

Unpopular opinion: it SHOULDN'T be unpopular given that it's CANONICAL but she is both muscular and feminine!!! both things can be true!!! PUT MORE BUFF WOMEN IN PRETTY DRESSES I AM BRANDISHING A FORK AT EVERY OTHER FAN ARTIST IN THE WORLD

A wish: for her to get to wear more pretty dresses. if I say it enough times will someone listen to me do you think

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: my dear we are DONE letting your big heart be taken advantage of by insincere and villainous parties!!

5 words to best describe them: the foundation you stand on.

#Mouse talks! #also these two are both trans and nobody can tell me otherwise #thank you for asking!! :'D

[madegeeky]

Heartbeat

Harumichi angst for everyone! This is the fic that’s been rambling about in my head for quite a while now and I finally got tired of it running itself into circles, so here it is. Inspired, as all of my Harumichi fics are, by @docholligay.

Michiru did not pray. It seemed a rather pointless endeavor, when all was said and done. 

Either deities didn’t care to exist and thus her pleas were heard by no one or the deities that did exist were cruel and she didn’t particularly care to draw their attention.

However, desperation can sometimes make even the most skeptical into a temporary supplicant. And standing amidst the wreckage of all that she had held dear, surrounded by the bloodied and broken bodies of those she had cared for, she couldn’t stop the unspoken prayer from sweeping through her, like a wave crashing on the surf. 

Please. Not this. I’ll do anything.

A heartbeat.

Then Sailor Pluto was standing in front of her. For a moment they stared at each other before Pluto stepped to the side, revealing a door behind her. “Queen Serenity wishes to speak with you,” Pluto said, waving her hand at the door which opened to blinding white.

It took a moment for Michiru to realize that the fear that had risen inside her was not her own. Or, no, not quite her own. There were sense memories that Michiru sometimes felt, when transformed. Things that the Sailor Neptune in her past life had known so well or remembered so strongly that they carried over into Michiru. 

They had never been all that strong. But the fear that rose inside her felt like a tsunami crashing on the shore. Vivid and powerful and uncontrollable, attempting to drown everything in its path. Michiru knew very little about her past life, besides the reflexes and feelings that sometimes rose within her, but she now knew this: whatever else the previous Sailor Neptune had been, she had been terrified of Queen Serenity. From the offhand comments that the cats and other Senshi had made--and even more importantly what Minako didn’t say--Michiru had no doubt that there was good reason for this fear. 

But Michiru had spent most of her life learning how to shape her emotions into submission; to obey her and not the other way around. And she was not going to allow emotions that were not quite hers to sublimate that. So she didn’t pause as she walked forward, taking deliberate steps around the bodies on the ground, special care taken not to notice who, in particular, she was stepping over. And, in the end, it hardly mattered what Queen Serenity may or may not do to her; anything was preferable to the alternative of staying here and now.

Her foot left grass and landed on white marble, as she stepped through the time gate, hearing it shut behind her. She continued to walk forward, refusing to turn her head or her eyes from the path in front of them. She had no way of knowing if the Queen was watching her and, if she was, Michiru wanted her to know that she was unimpressed with the display of opulence around her. Ahead of her, a silvery white wooden door stood open, Serenity clearly awaiting her arrival.

She stepped into a library. She saw movement out of the corner of her right eye. She turned. She saw silvery white hair. And then she found herself on one knee, her head bowed low. 

Some things become so ingrained in one’s soul, Michiru knew from experience, that they become reflex.

She did not wait for Serenity to give her permission to stand. The rage boiled inside of her, roiling with the idea that her past self had been so indoctrinated to bow to the woman before her that even now, hundreds of years and an entire life away from Serenity, the instinct had been so strong that Michiru had not been given even a chance to fight it. 

She stood in one fluid motion, head held high, face placid, steadily meeting Serenity’s eyes. Queen Serenity smiled, benevolent and beautiful, the soft tilt of her lips spoke of sympathy and kindness. The memory inside Michiru quailed but Michiru did not need that to see the sharp teeth behind Serenity’s lips.

“Ah, Sailor Neptune. I’m sorry to see you again under circumstances such as these,” Serenity said, her smile growing softer and more sympathetic, her fangs growing longer. 

“As am I, Queen Serenity,” Michiru replied, biting back the ‘your majesty’ that nipped at the tip of her tongue. Queen Serenity was not her liege anymore. Michiru was already in service to one queen of the moon, she did not need or want another. 

Serenity’s face didn’t change but Michiru knew what it looked like when one bared their fangs without showing their teeth. “Sailor Neptune, Sailor Pluto has told me of what has passed in your time, your world. It is unacceptable, I’m sure that even you will agree.” Michiru thought that this, perhaps, might be the only thing she and Serenity would ever agree on.

Michiru didn’t reply; she didn’t need to.

“Sailor Pluto and I have talked at great length on the best way to circumvent your mistakes. The plan with the most likelihood of success involves traveling to the past in an attempt to change things. Are you amenable to this plan?”

Michiru paused. Thought. And then said, “If Sailor Pluto has agreed that this is the best of all possible options, then I shall do it.” 

Serenity smiled and it was not kind. “Then it is decided.” A heartbeat. “However, to make your chances of success more likely, I have prepared a gift for you.” Serenity turned to the desk behind her, on which a box the size of a children’s shoe box sat, white and closed with silver ribbon. She picked it up gently, as though there was something fragile inside, and turned around, holding it out to Michiru.

Her smile was merciless. Her fangs dripped with poison.

Michiru took the box.

She had no doubt that whatever she found in the package would be helpful; she did not think that Serenity would lie when it came to the continued life of her daughter and bloodline. But Michiru also knew that she had been right; deities, should they exist, would indeed be cruel and it did one no good to receive their attention.

Michiru opened the box.

Inside lay a human heart wrapped in silvery-white threads of magic, steadily beating as though it did not realize that it had been taken from the chest meant to house it. Michiru very carefully did not react, as she looked back up at the queen standing before her. 

The queen’s smile had not changed. “A tool for you, Sailor Neptune, meant to divine the secrets in the hearts of those around you. It will reveal the monsters to you, so they do not take you unaware. You need only hold it in your hand for it to whisper its secrets to you. Once you return to the past, none but you will be able to see it.”

Serenity did not tell her to pick it up. Michiru did so because to do otherwise would be admitting weakness in front of Serenity.

Immediately a whispery voice echoed in her head, as she stared at the queen, “She wants to hurt you; she wants to see you suffer.” Michiru had not needed the heart to tell her that, but it was confirmation that at least what Serenity said was true: it did reveal the monsters around her. “I’m sorry,” the heart whispered.

It is not the snake bite that does the deadly damage, it is the venom.

There are some things, upon the knowing, which will break one beyond all sense of repair. 

The brain knows this and so it begins to work. Smoothly and deftly, the process needed to follow one logical thought to the next folds in on itself, over and over again, an origami of paths from one truth to another.

The heart, held safely and gently in Michiru’s hand, feels so terribly familiar. 

Fold. Smooth. Bend.

The whisper is strange to hear in her head, instead of with her ears.

Fold. Smooth. Bend.

The heartbeat sounds strange, out in the open, instead of being cradled in a warm moving chest.

Fold. Smooth. Bend.

Thoughts folded until the shape was so complex it was hard to divine the beginning or the end. Michiru tucks it all into the very deepest recesses of her soul, taking great care not to look at its shape, as she nods once to Serenity. “You have my gratitude, Queen Serenity. I promise that I will not let this future come to pass again.”

“I’m sure it won’t,” Serenity replies. It is a threat. It is a promise. Her fangs are still dripping with poison. This queen of the moon is not her daughter; she does not give second chances to those who disappoint her.

Without another word, Michiru turns and leaves. She does not look back. The heart beats in her hand, strong and firm and rhythmic, and whispers, “This place is wrong. Home. I miss home. Where is it? I don’t remember…”

A heartbeat. The origami deep inside Michiru folds into itself once again before sinking even deeper.

Michiru walks through the time gate, heart in her hand, and does not look back.

#geeky talks #geeky writes #geeky writes sailor moon #geeky writes fanfic #i did not care for this at all #when i first wrote it #i liked it more after my first edit through #and after my final readthrough #i actually really really like it #full disclosure #the idea for the whole thing at the end #is straight up stolen from one of my fav video games #damn good idea right? #immediately made me think of harumichi #because that's just what i do now i guess #thanks doc

[docholligay]

For the Valentine’s Day prompt: HARUMICHI

In recent years, I have come to love the easy way Haruka has with me, the way she asks for what she needs, and gives freely of her emotions. In no way would I replace the confident, tender, open woman Haruka has become, and it makes me happy, as simple and borderline garish  as that sounds, to see her so at ease. 

All that being said, I often recall the awkward and bashful energy that accompanied our first Valentine’s day together. 

We were both such idiots. 

I thought of myself as a woman, then, though of course that was only the utter nonsense of some young thing pretending to something greater.  We were not quite living together, not yet, though I was anxious for the opportunity. It was tiresome, I thought, to have the driver go all the way over to Haruka’s dreary little apartment, only to occasionally be told they had to leave, for her mother was in some state of intoxication, or with her boyfriend, or more than likely, both. It was also ridiculous, the wisdom of my younger self imagined, that I had to play at stocking Haruka’s kitchen, or buying her new linens for her sad mat on the floor, or anything Haruka clearly needed but struggled to accept. 

And so, Valentine’s Day gave me a bit of an excuse to lavish things on Haruka that otherwise she might have been forced to create an elaborate pantomime around. I strolled about the Mitsukoshi department store, picking up things here and there, having associates bring them to the front. A set of dishes, for romantic dinners, I would say. A pile of fine pajamas, for all of our sleepovers. A silk kimono–really more a gift for me, Haruka, that you might accompany me at the mundane events my brother holds. A set of luggage, which you simply must have if I am to take you to Paris. 

Haruka had little, and I found it utterly exhausting, This first holiday was a chance to change that, and if we had only been together a few months, it made little difference to me, a swipe of my  allowance that barely made a dent. 

Haruka had already refused to let me take her out to dinner, insisting she would cook herself. After much negotiation, Haruka had at least conceded to allow this silliness to take place at my first apartment, which I had dubbed small, with mediocre appointments, compared to my parents’ penthouse, but dwarfed Haruka’s. 

Oh, I know. I am well aware that I hardly come off as the heroine in this story, but if we are being quite frank, there are few stories of my youth in which I do. I was spoilt beyond belief and thought nothing of pride, for mine had never truly been at issue. I saw Haruka as a stubborn fool, albeit a stubborn fool of whom I was growing very fond, and could not imagine why anyone would be proud over the issue of a few thousand yen. 

In any case, she agreed to my wishes, and I had the gifts wrapped and delivered to my home. I treated myself to demi baguette with roe butter and a glass of wine. Haruka, you see, had asked that I not return until later that evening, that she might surprise me with the things she had created. I had little doubt in my mind that I would be surprised, and, in case of a surprise to us both, picked up a fine tart from the bakery before I left for home. 

When I arrived, the kitchen was a flurry of activity, Haruka in her little apron running back and forth between things. It was charming, though unnecessary, to see her work so hard. Our small table was set with a white tablecloth that had a few spots on it, unable to be resolved from whenever she had purchased it. A pair of ceramic candlesticks were in the center, candles burning down quickly inside them. There was a single rose inside a cheap porcelain bud vase. 

Snottily, I though, ‘well, at the very least she’s used my china.” 

You have to understand, in those days, I thought it was I who had everything to give to Haruka, and did not realize that she had plenty to give to me as well. I will not attempt to make an excuse for myself, but when one is raised as I was, one tends to get the idea that lowering yourself to the little people is only done out of a sense of noblesse oblige. It is for this reason that I was so resistant to have M.A. marry back into society, though she certainly seems to have threaded that particular needle with far more grace. 

So, as I was saying, Haruka was working very hard, and I took my appointed seat as she began to serve. I remember that it was not particularly elegant, but ti was clearly made with a great deal of effort and love, and as you know Haruka is not without some talent in the kitchen. It’s silly, the way memory works. I remember so much of this night and yet I have completely forgotten what it was exactly that she served. Perhaps that is the least interesting part of the story, after all. 

I do remember dessert. She presented a sweet, small cake, with a pair of uneven hearts made of chocolate in the top of it. The raspberry filling was spilling from the sides a bit, and you could see the spots where the crumb coat had not quite covered. I brought out the tart I’d purchased–you know, Dominique Ansel had a space there, at the time–a dark chocolate and matcha torte, the chocolate shell tempered to perfection, even and smooth ganaches, elegant dusting on the top. 

Haruka looked at me and said, “Oh, you brought dessert.” 

I am, even now, not often given to shame, I see no point in it and have no use for it, but in that moment I realized that I had somehow undermined all she had wished to in my pursuit of that which was considered the best. There was a quality in her voice that contained an edge of hurt, and her enthusiasm faded for a moment. 

And then, of course, being as difficult as I was back in those times, she brushed it off, tossed her hair back and declared that this cake was fine and all but it was too much for just two people, is all she meant, a phrase which, i think you can agree, Haruka has never uttered in earnest in her life. 

The moment was gone, and even if it had not been I did not have qualities in me to soothe her. We truly did grow up together, she and I, and if there were a God, I would thank him for the miracle of our staying together while we tripped over each other. 

The parade of gifts came, and each one after the next I noticed Haruka’s discomfort more and more as she unwrapped them. I brushed it off as yet another of her little fits over the fact that from time to time I would like to provide for her, and rather ignored it. She was trying very hard to pretend it wasn’t bothering her anyhow, telling me she didn’t need the whole store and things of that nature. I told her it pleased me to do these things, and that, at least, was true. It has always pleased me to treat her, to care for her, only then I was not so good at realizing money is not always a substitute for the softer things, which she needed much more. 

At the end of it all she thanked me, although not with the enthusiasm I had hoped, but with a sort of awkward huff, as if I had somehow displeased her. She turned her face away from mine, and looked toward the clumsily-wrapped package on the windowsill. 

“Well,” I said, brushing off her moodiness, “I suppose it’s now my turn to open.” 

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “sure. I didn’t have a lot of time, so I’ll have to make it up to you, take you out somewhere nice.” 

“Oh,” I unwrapped the corner, “You’re being perfectly silly just now.” 

It was a picture frame with wide sides, whatever color it had been in a former life painted over with a layer of cheap acrylic, a soft turquoise color that matched the sheets of my bed. There were clumsily painted hearts on one side of it in pinks and reds, and across the top and down the other sides, old scrabble tiles spelled out ‘Michiru’ across the top, ‘Haruka’ down the side, our names intersecting at the ‘ru.’ In the center, a picture of us, at some holiday festival, smiling, colored lights gaily sparkling around us. 

I have told you previously, though, you have known me for so long I feel this hardly needs telling, that I was, an to some extent, still, an inveterate snob, who tolerated only the finest things in life. And, while this is true, I must tell you that I had never allowed that someone might spend time on a gift for me. The acrylic was cheap, but obviously carefully layered, and the tiles were so straight as the must have been set with a line and level. She had gone to great effort for me. I was deeply touched, my chest aching with love for it, with love for her. She loved me as a human, you see, and not as a doll, to be dressed and posed and mollified with gifts. 

I wish I could tell you this was the part of the story where I tell her how much a valued her gift, and all the reasons why. That would be a lie, I regret to say. I thanked her, and said I would put it immediately by my bedside, and she had chosen such a lovely picture. I wish I could tell you Haruka swelled with pride at the compliment, but she simply touched the edge of the pajamas I’d given her and shrugged. We polished off a bottle of wine, had sex, and went to bed. 

Oh, don’t look that way, it all turns out in the end, you know that. I tell you this to inform you that even the greatest highway begins as a dirt road, and so it was with Haruka and I. You know, this last Valentine’s Day, for I still have the frame by my bedside, though I change the picture year to year, she gave me another. M.A. and Kimi, it said, in English tiles that she had Mina help her work out, for of course the intersection is impossible in Japanese, M.A.’s full name being French. I nearly cried, when she gave it to me. 

I tell you this so that you will know the journey is worth making, and that things will be made softer, and better. A life can be changed, and a person can grow, however impossible it seems. 

I tell you this, for I have come to love Valentine’s Day.                           

#Anonymous #Valentine's ficlets

[themarinecathedral]

(fic)

sooo last month i wrote a fic for haruka’s birthday. it’s all fluff and semi smutty, so watch your eyes ;)

you can read it here or on [ao3]

// morning touch

Ever so gently, Michiru outlined Haruka's lips with her finger, smiling when the later took a playful nibble. “It’s the 27th, Haruka.”

* Haruka's birthday fic.

AN: This story was totally unplanned. It was 2 AM and I should already be sleeping, but this idea hit me and wouldn't leave me alone. There is sex, but I didn't go with full blown smut or else I wouldn't have finished on time. This story is coincidentally also my first Harumichi fic (that I finished), so I'm kind of nervous, but I think I'm pretty happy with it and I hope you'd enjoy it too.

Happy birthday, Haruka! I love you!

It wasn’t the penthouse, although their apartment was high enough to ensure the waking bustling city of Tokyo didn’t reach their ears. Thick beige curtains pulled tight across the floor-to-ceiling window, effectively shutting them out from the outside world safe for a sliver of sunlight slipping through the small gap where the curtains met. All in all, Haruka would have been guaranteed almost another hour of sleep if a slight weight making itself comfortable on top of her didn’t startle her out of her dreams.

When it came, the whisper was melodious - as light as the summer breeze, as luminous as the siren’s song that dragged oblivious sailors to the floor of the ocean. As familiar as the back of her hand.

“Haruka,”

She stirred.

“Ha-ru-ka.” A callous hand slipped beneath her top, tracing love poems on her skin as it went along. A thumb brushed against her breast, not accidentally, teasingly.

Haruka slung an arm across the lithe figure on top of her, anchoring it around her hips. She was conscious enough to know that the hem of Michiru’s slip had followed an exciting trajectory up her thighs, and her hand shifted lower to rest upon one luscious cheek. She squeezed.

“Yes, you are definitely awake,” Michiru laughed.

Haruka chuckled, cracking one eye open. They were pressed so close her laughter reverberated to Michiru and back again. Haruka wondered if there would ever come a day when she would get used to this - waking up next to Michiru. It was something she would never take for granted.

Ever so gently, Michiru outlined Haruka's lips with her finger, smiling when the later took a playful nibble. “It’s the 27th, Haruka.”

“I know," Haruka smirked, eyes closing again as their foreheads tapped together. "It’s Thursday.”

While they never needed a reason to lose themselves in each other, an excuse was definitely needed to allow them some additional time to laze about in bed instead of frantically jumping into shower and eating breakfast before getting to school at least 20 minutes before homeroom started, as anything less than fifteen minutes was considered late per Michiru’s standard. If her birthday was what it took, then Haruka wasn’t about to complain. Not even on Michiru’s birthday would her beautiful girlfriend grant her the same concession. Haruka silently promised herself to try her luck again in two months, after having failed miserably in the previous years.

It started out slow: a soft touching of lips, a mingling of puffs of warm air until they could practically taste the other. A flick of familiar tongue, hands peeling off a tank top. Goosebumps dotted Haruka’s arms. A sharp intake of breath and a breathless plea spilled from swollen lips. Her nipples puckered up from both cold and desire and Michiru took care of it by drawing the left one into her mouth.

Haruka keened softly, yielding under her touch. Her slow spin towards the oblivion had begun. “You- uh, remembered-,”

“I had to get a head start. Your fans would be monopolizing you all day today.” Michiru slithered down her body, suckling and nipping at whatever spots hit her fancy, which were pretty much everywhere.

Truth be told, birthdays had since long lost its charm for Haruka. She really couldn't care less. This, however, Michiru nestled between her legs, doing sinful things only she could... she cared a lot about that. “Some would argue that you are monopolizing me, every day of the year.”

“Is that a complaint?” Michiru’s lips deliciously grazed the sensitive skin beneath her navel. One tug and boyshort panties joined the clattered clothing on the floor.

“Never,” her muscles clenched when short nails raked down her toned abs. There was a small pinch that was followed by a bite. “I love being yours.” Fact.

Haruka felt more than saw Michiru’s grin, but all lucid thoughts immediately abandoned her when Michiru lazily massaged a finger over her throbbing clit.

“M-Michi-!“

The motion slowed until it ceased completely and Haruka almost screamed in frustration. Her leg gave an involuntary jerk. The violinist planted a kiss on the small patch of skin above the one place Haruka needed her the most. When Michiru spoke, her voice was barely restrained. Haruka was so wet already.

(For her. Because of her.)

“I know.”

Michiru finally took pity on her and Haruka did scream, then. Michiru languidly swiped at the length of her slit, once, twice, and stopped at the pearl between slippery nether lips. Her tongue gave a hard rub before circling the hard nubbin with the tip. She was swift one second, agonizingly slow the next. Her lips and tongue and teeth were collaborating in an orchestra that made Haruka’s body sing. She would let Michiru take her into the deepest ocean, drowning her, making her one with the sea until Haruka didn’t know where she ended and Michiru began.

Michiru moaned, momentarily leaving the clitoris to dip inside and taste Haruka’s sweetness right from the core. She spelled her name inside the moist canal, claiming Haruka in the most intimate way.

It wasn’t long before the finale hit Haruka like a tidal wave. Waves and waves of white hot pleasures surged through every fiber of her being, from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. The sheets rippled under her writhing body and still, Michiru didn’t stop. She drank her in, set her body ablaze anew, sent her to another, smaller spiraling encore of orgasm.

When it became too much, Haruka weakly tugged at the green hair sprawling across her thigh.

Michiru crawled back up, propping her head on her hand while the other caressing Haruka’s trembling body, soothing, calming, bringing her back to the shore. After what seemed like forever, the blood stopped rushing to her ears, the ringing slowly replaced by the static hum of the air conditioner and her labored, ragged breathing. It still felt as if she was holding on to a buoy, swaying back and forth following an unsteady current, but she could finally move her toes. Small victory. Haruka opened her eyes and licked at her chapped lips.

Michiru was silently watching her through lidded eyes, the corners of her lips curved up into a beautiful smile. Her normally neatly combed hair was a wild cumulus curtain around her heart-shaped face. Her eyes, subtly glazed from arousal, so blue, so warm, so full of the things she had said and yet to say, but it didn't matter because Haruka knew. She just did.

The distance was too much to bear so Haruka threaded her fingers around the aqua curls at Michiru’s nape and pulled her in, her mouth already half opened to welcome Michiru’s tongue. Michiru answered in kind, her tongue rustling with hers until-

“Tsk, Michiru...,” Haruka grunted and broke the kiss, feeling the twinge and sting Michiru’s hand against her body emphasized.

They both studied the scattering of cherry blossom markings on her chest and torso (Haruka also noted the glee in Michiru’s eyes that she didn't bother to hide). One had been strategically placed above her left breast: an orchid tattoo pulsing in time with her heartbeats.

“Your uniform would cover them.” Michiru pointed out coyly.

Haruka scoffed, her eyes narrowed, and reached for the hand that was stroking her collarbone. There was a dangerous glint in her eyes. “They would, but you knew I had PE today.”

“Oh, did I?” Michiru had the audacity to look sheepish, blue eyes widening as if the small piece of information had just clicked into place. “My bad.”

Haruka growled and tackled her down, hands closing around her wrists as she straddled her hips. She was too happy and too absorbed in the moment to care about what kind of gossip would generate when her classmates saw her in the locker room. Obviously, it wasn’t on the top of her girlfriend’s worries too.

Michiru’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “Are you going to punish me, Tenoh senpai?”

Haruka shut her up with a deep kiss.

Later, much, much later when they only had ten minutes to get up and make themselves as presentable as possible (something that Michiru seemed to have flawlessly mastered- a talent which infuriated Haruka to no end) and Michiru’s body was as purple and crimson and sore as Haruka’s, she brought the blonde into her arms. Their legs tangled, her thigh inadvertently finding its way against Haruka’s damp mound and it was all she could do from having her way with her again.

“Do we have time for a shower?”

Haruka hummed, licking Michiru’s glistening neck before pecking it gently. “We do, if we take one together.”

“Are you going to behave?”

“If you are.”

Michiru buried her nose in tousled blonde hair. “Happy birthday, love.”

Another peck. “I love you, too."

#i posted on ao3 back then so you might have read it already #but im xposting and i alsoedited things a bit #harumichi #haruka x michiru #haruka tenoh #i think my blog font may be too small #but i cant edit the theme yet since im too lazy to tweak the whole http - https thing #so sorry #fanfic

[awashsquid]

SPARKLE SPARKLE 2019!

First off, a big THANK YOU to @docholligay for organizing this and letting me help out!  Second, thanks so much to everyone who participated this year; you all made some really awesome stuff!

Without further ado, the master post of all submitted works:

Fanfiction:

@amrynth with “Like the Tide”, an entrancing tale of Haruka, who, while working as a custodian at the local aquarium, stumbles upon Mermaid!Michiru locked away in a cage.  I loved how they communicated in this, and it lends to so many questions about Michiru’s predicament that it really hooks you.

@bailesu with “One Day in Paris”,  a romp with Detective!Haruka chasing down Jewel Thief! Michiru in, of course, Paris.  It’s really cool that you made all the Senshi have their own parts/cameos and you have a real talent for humor; without spoiling, Hotaru’s scene made me chuckle several times.

@docholligay with “Perfection, Oil on Linen, Date Unknown”, a character study of Michiru a few weeks before episode 110.  The metaphor of Michiru as a painting is so gorgeous, and the language so expertly written (Tokyo as a jewel box being my favorite), that this story sucks you in immediately and doesn’t release you until the very last line.

@howmanyheartaches with “That’s What Friends are For”,  where Haruka and Michiru are attempting to help Minako make her debut album a success by providing their own musical talents.  Your Minako is fabulous, and I particularly liked the little exchange between her and Michiru right at the end!

@kumeko with “One Year of Love”, an absolutely heartbreaking tale about Michiru, frozen in time by Setsuna (a really clever idea that I wish I had thought of, to be honest) with one year left to spend before her time runs out.  The weaving of who notices vs. who doesn’t is perfect, and this is so haunting it’ll stick with me for a while.

@seolh with “So Far Away (Adventures in Getting There)”, a really cute story about Haruka’s quest to see a drive-in movie (which, in 2019, is becoming increasingly rarer).  It’s warming and sweet, and it gracefully shows the ways in which Haruka and Michiru are both maturing as they settle into domesticity with one another.

@sittingoverheredreaming with the prompt “Minako and Rei cuddling in a snow storm”, which has a delightful first sentence that blossoms into Minako continually getting on Rei’s nerves until they both hit a tipping point.  The realization in the middle is really smartly done, and the soft, sweet ending honestly just makes me want to curl up under blankets too!

@verbforverb with the Overwatch prompt “Tracer planning a birthday party for Winston”, and it’s hard for me to review this one without spoiling it, but I really liked the implication of the last few paragraphs, as well as the care you put into Tracer and Winston’s relationship as family to one another.

I also wrote a thing with the prompt “Keeping Warm”, an AU of D-Point with Haruka and Michiru there!

Art:

@jay-lea with the prompt “Minako ‘helping’ Haruka plan a date”, a combo art/ficlet piece that legitimately made me laugh out loud (Michiru’s second line is so perfect!).  It’s a really sweet story, and Haruka’s horrified expression in the photo is an absolute delight.

@kin-kaze with the prompt “Haruka and Michiru travel Japan”, a beautiful piece done in a traditional style that almost gives it the feel of a street artist having sketched them as they walked through the market.  Bonus points for Haruka being bogged down with all of the bags, which I find hilarious.

@papillon82fluttersby with the prompt “Harumichi rewrite of a fairytale”, a really charming art and ficlet combination that gives the traditional Cinderella story a little twist, set in the modern-day and with these two instead!  My personal favorite touch is that Haruka’s car keys (complete with Whorl Chicken keychain) replace the famous lost shoe.

@rhiorhino with the prompt “Older Haruka and Michiru, married, domestic life”, a gorgeous slice-of-life portrait of the couple having grown old together, still in love, Michiru openly smiling in a way that feels genuine, down to the crinkle of her eyes.  The little background Reinako mugs are an adorable touch, too!

@tabletennishotaru with the prompt “A Michiru piece to Vanessa Mae’s Devil’s Trill”, a beautiful piece where Michiru’s sly smile really sucks you in, but the background details just add to the appreciation of what she must be thinking about as she plays, what it is that makes her smile in that way.  

@vassekocho with the prompt of “Ghost!Michiru”, a drawing that captures something predatory in Michiru’s expression that, quite frankly, creeps me out quite a bit!  I adore Michiru’s outfit, especially that little seashell on the belt, and Haruka’s expression manages to leave me wondering--does she see her? or just sense her?

@wouldntyoulichentoknow with the prompt “Snowball fight”, a cute and funny series of drawings that definitely made me smile!  I really like the little critter on Haruka’s headphones, because of course she would buy ones that look like that, as well as Michiru trolling Minako, a personal favorite of mine!

That’s everybody, folks!  Again, a BIG thanks to everyone who participated in this exchange!!

#sparkle sparkle #sparkle sparkle 2019 #master post #fanfiction #sailor moon #harumichi #haruka tenoh #michiru kaioh #i had some trouble with tagging people so i hope it all works!

[docholligay]

Revue of my Eternal Fucking Frustration

Hello and welcome to: Doc feels very spicy about this episode, a Christmas Elul special. 

I transcribed this out by hand using the hidive subs, which for the first 3 episodes I found the song translations to be personally superior for, you can have your own preferences and that’s fine I just don’t particularly care. Italics are Kaoruko, regular is Futaba, because she never gets anything that’s just for her, and bold is the both of them.

Pinkies of children entwined, a promise to always be together.

How many days, I wonder, have passed since then? 

I look up, and those petals I saw were so very blinding

I felt like even if I reached for you, it would fall short. 

Okay so I felt like I was taking crazy pills when I was writing this down, and even checked it against my other translation just to be sure they weren’t wildly different, and no, same flavor. I HAVE GONE BACK THROUGH THE EPISODE AND CANNOT FIND THIS PROMISE. ARE YOU CONFUSING THE TWO OF THEM WITH KAREN AND HIKARI, ASKING FOR AN ANNOYED LESBIAN. Futaba never promised to be with Kaoruko forever so much as she’s been pulled into all of Kaoruko’s bullshit and is too weak to buck out of it, so why is she fucking gaslighting HERSELF right now and claiming she made some promise? Someone is going to tell me it happens in the manga or something but nay nay that is not fair to this narrative, I shouldn’t have to cross-index to get this shit. 

I do like a lot more Futaba’s next line, that she was blinded by the petals, and I think that makes sense not only within the context of this revue, but how we see flashbacks in the beginning about how they were surrounded by petals, even with Kaoruko brandishing a stick of them as pictures were taken of her. It’s easy to believe that Futaba was taken by Kaoruko’s certain sense of glamour, and the way people were pulled to her. 

But what confuses me to the point that I cross indexed this line, too, and the other subs translate it as “I felt IT would be forever out of reach” so assuming that translation is an art and not a science (it is), it could be that the “you” is referring to Futaba, but it could just as easily be Karuko singing to the idea of fame. It feels incongruous with the other lines in the song as well as her actions, so I’m not totally sure what I think there. 

If you want to part ways, I will not stop you. If there’s no happiness here, go and bloom somewhere else. I want more than anything to see the moment when you’re in full bloom. 

OH FUTABA. YOU BEAUTIFUL, INTENSELY FRUSTRATING FUCKING IDIOT. AHHHHHHH. I feel for her on the one hand because I know plenty of girls who have gotten just SO CAUGHT UP in their first girlfriend, and doting loser Futaba seems immediately like the kind of person that could happen to, and it obviously has. Even if it means leaving her and going somewhere else, Futaba wants to see her flower, see her succeed, and while on paper I have no problem with that, it always seems to come at the cost of what Futaba might or nmight not want to do, and I just want to SHAKE HER. 

I believed, without a doubt, that you would always protect me. 

That caged bird has forever yearned for the blue skies. 

When did this young bird find its voice? 

Flowers and wings alike ride gently upon the breeze

Kaoruko, translated: When did you get a fucking backbone? Don’t get me wrong, I actually think the poetry itself in these lines is great, the way it has Kaoruko as a flower petal and Futaba as a bird, a bird who has been looking for something to be free, and Kaoruko wonders where she found the strength to sing, and while its lovely in its raw poetry, its also lovely in its symbolism: Birds fly under their own power, while petals merely float where ever the wind takes them. It works perfectly for what these two are doing right now. 

Farewell, i’m leaving on my journey this instant, away from you. So memories will not be forgotten, I’m going to hollow out my heart and leave.

I do not believe this is true for even one second, and the show doesn’t either, as this is going with the absolute bullshit she’s pulling on stage right now, pretending that she’s going to cut off her own button. She has zero percent intention of doing that, and I at least appreciate that the show knows she’s a manipulative shit, if nothing else and even if Futaba never gets justice. 

The swift stream of a river, though divided by a rock, will eventually reunite. Paths that go separate ways also will at length become one. Make the flower bloom, for the sake of one person, and live life to the fullest.

I am going to SCREAM. There’s this sense of inevitability that they will be brought back together, that there’s no escaping the way they’ll be together forever, like water in a stream, and while I can occasionally enjoy a codependent nightmare couple, for all of you smartasses about to Harumichi at me, there are two things going on here that make it not as fun: A) They don’t seem to enjoy each other, and I don’t ever see Kaoruko TRULY helping or being kind of Futaba. Michiru DIED for Haruka, whatever her other flaws might be, and she also was like “fine, kill the world, without Haruka this place fucking blows” so there’s some given standard of liking there. B) I spoke very very positively, and feel positively! About how this is one of the few animes I’ve ever seen where THEY FEEL LIKE FIFTEEN YEAR OLDS in the writing, but in this case its working against the feeling they want me to have, because all I can say is “KEEP THE BABIES AWAY FROM EACH OTHER TILL THEIR FRONTAL LOBES ARE FULLY FORMED” 

And then Futaba gets no justice, I cry foul and take a deep slug of sake. 

#Doc watches Revue Starlight #RS ep 6

[awashsquid]

This is my entry for this year’s SPARKLE SPARKLE, for @dancinginredshoes ! The prompt was Reinako at Harumichi’s bachelorette party. I had a lot of fun with this, and I hope you enjoy!

“Perfect.”  Haruka looked out over her kingdom and sighed contentedly.  There was cold beer in the fridge, popcorn in the microwave, and a large box of assorted chocolate just begging to be opened sitting on the coffee table. “Patience,” she reminded herself sternly, fingers twitching to undo the delicate bow and begin devouring the candy. To distract herself, she began to select a movie from their modest selection.  She was debating the virtues of Love, Actually versus Titanic when the doorbell rang.

“It’s open!” she yelled, knowing that her guest would not be deterred even if it wasn’t, having snuck into their house a multitude of times over the course of their friendship.  Maybe Dirty Dancing would be good, she mused, kneeling down to pull the movie from the shelf.  She skimmed the back cover, too engrossed in the summary of Baby’s adventures to hear Minako enter the room.

A deep sigh alerted her to the other’s presence. “Haruka,” Minako stated flatly, and she could picture without looking the woman’s hand pinching the bridge of her nose, “what do you think you’re doing, exactly?”

“Picking a movie?”  She looked up then, and Minako not in her pajamas as expected, but instead clad in a much more revealing ensemble, with a black crop top showing off her toned stomach and a gold sequin miniskirt barely covering her bottom.  “What are you wearing, Mina?”

Minako flipped her hair in response.  “The question is, what are you wearing?”  Haruka blushed crimson, looking down at her racecar-themed onesie.  The tiny fleece cars on her feet suddenly seemed much less cool than the Batman option she had also been eyeing, and she absentmindedly picked a stray fuzz from her sleeve, letting it fall to the ground.

“It’s really comfortable,” Haruka retorted defensively, standing up and crossing her arms.  “You can borrow some pajamas if you want; that’s a little fancy to watch movies, don’t you think?”

A laugh escaped Minako, and a wolfish gleam came into her eyes.  “Oh, Haruka! How silly of you to forget!  Today isn’t just a movie-watching day.”  Her carefree grin morphed into a predatory leer. “Today is your bachelorette party.”

Haruka gulped, her mouth suddenly dry.  “My- my what, now?”

“Michiru and Rei went for a lovely spa day, yes? Followed by some fancy opera—”

“Ballet.”

“—whatever.  Something rich people pretend to enjoy to seem classy, I don’t know.  And your wedding is coming up really fast, right?” Haruka nodded warily.  “So, this is our chance to throw you a bachelorette party that you will never forget!  Or, well, that you might forget details of, but you’ll remember the general idea.”

Haruka knew that it was useless to argue; once Minako set her sights onto something, it was impossible to change her mind. So, she would go along with the idea—she would go out, have a few beers, then come home, maybe even have time to watch Titanic before Michiru came back. “All right, let me get dressed.”

“YES!”  Minako punched the air.  “Buddy, you are not going to regret this.”

And yet, somehow, she already did.

–

“Another champagne, Miss Kaioh?”

The service here was impeccable, but perhaps a bit too eager, Michiru thought to herself as she glanced at her half-full glass. “Not just yet.”  The man bowed a little and then scurried away, presumably to wait another five minutes before asking again, regardless of how much she would drink in that time.  She sighed, taking another sip.  At least it was from a good year.

A quick glance at Rei told her that her companion was doing fine, although probably regretting her decision to go with the mud mask, as she sipped her champagne dejectedly through a straw.  She started a little as her phone vibrated from her robe pocket.  Almost immediately after, Michiru felt her own phone buzz.

“Oh my God,” whispered Rei from her right, the sound muffled due to her inability to move her face muscles.  Her violet eyes caught Michiru’s own, and she could tell that Rei was stuck somewhere between amusement and horror, unable to truly display either, the edges of the brown mask beginning to crack under the strain. “Minako took Haruka out for a bachelorette party.”

Michiru’s eyes widened, and she reached for her phone, unlocking it with a sinuous flick of her wrist.  Several garbled text messages greeted her from Haruka, with the most legible simply reading, “I love oh so much by lottl meemakd” followed by perhaps a dozen hearts and fish emojis.  Among these texts was one lone message from Minako: “She’s pretty durnk and won’t let me haver her phone, sorry” with the tiny squid emoji following, as was tradition when she deigned to text Michiru.

Now understanding Rei’s conflicting face, torn between laughing and crying, she raised her left hand in a delicate wave. “I think we will take some more champagne, after all.”

–

It was almost amazing, Minako thought, just how much bachelorette-themed merchandise was focused on the penis. Penis banners, penis straws, penis gummies—really, anything that could be tangentially party-related could be found in the shape of a penis.  And what options!  Some were smiling and cartoonish, while others were made to be as realistic as possible.

But, when it came to bachelor-themed merchandise, there were decidedly little options.  She figured she would mention it to Rei later, just to hear her diatribe about society’s need to brand the vagina as dirty and hidden, but for now, having a boob-shaped shot glass and a giant “I’M GETTING MARRIED, BUY ME SHOTS” button would have to suffice.

And so far, it had, she noted as yet another woman bought Haruka a shot, despite the fact that she could barely recognize that she was taking another one.  Minako figured she would cut her off pretty soon, probably when she started crying, but right now she was just mushy enough that it was considered cute by every woman in the vicinity—and considering that they were at a strip club, that was quite a lot.

She had started off slowly, easing Haruka into their day with a few beers at a nearby bar.  Then, when she was tipsy enough to just follow Minako blindly, she had scooted them both into an Uber and brought them to Gentleman’s Delight, an establishment that promised class, along with plenty of tits.  Her clutch was stuffed full of $1 bills, and Haruka’s almost-married status got them front row seats.  But no matter how hard she tried, Haruka would not give money to the girls.

“Dude, they’re doing this to get paid, come on!”

Haruka shook her head solemnly.  “I can’t touch another girl, Mina.  I love Michiru.”  She sounded out her fiancée’s name slowly, as though Minako had never met her before.  “Mi-chi-ru.”

Minako sighed and slid the money into the stripper’s shoe for her, earning herself a wink, which she returned with gusto.

After that, it wasn’t long until several of the dancers had gathered around, oohing and ahhing over Haruka’s drunken rambling about her amazing soon-to-be wife.  

“That’s so sweet!” one exclaimed.  She turned to Minako, the glitter on her cheekbones catching the light and making it bounce.  “We usually get real creeps in here.  It’s really nice to see someone so in love!”  Minako smiled back widely.

–

“I can’t believe that Minako took Haruka to a—” Rei’s voice dropped to a stage whisper as she glanced around at the pristine spa “—strip club!”

“Really?” Michiru barely glanced up from her phone, trying to decipher her latest incoming message.  “I can’t imagine her taking Haruka anywhere else, somehow.”  The corners of her mouth turned up in a sly smile. “You wouldn’t happen to be jealous, would you, Rei?”  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rei’s face, already a little pink from the mask removal, redden intensely.

“I—of course not!  It’s just so- so-” Her cheeks continued to flare as she struggled for the right words.  “Improper,” she decided on.

“And here, I believed myself to be in the company of a, what is it, sex-positive feminist, hmm?  Perhaps I invited the wrong friend,” Michiru replied, not unkindly, allowing a teasing smile to show itself.

Rei relaxed a little, smiling back.  “I guess you’re right.”  Her phone buzzed once more, and she swiped through the passcode furiously, nearly dropping it in surprise when she saw the photos Minako had sent.  Michiru checked her phone and quickly ascertained the cause of Rei’s gasp when she saw the photos, dark, but unmistakable, of Haruka receiving a lap dance.

A sigh escaped her, and she glanced at the pedicurist delicately painting her toenails.  “Perhaps we should telephone reinforcements.”  Rei nodded, wide-eyed, as Michiru began a new group chat.

–

“I can’t believe we are doing this,” muttered Ami quietly, dog-earing the page in her book and stuffing it into her purse.

“Come on, it’s just like any other mission, right? Go in, grab them, get out!” Makoto clapped the smaller girl on the back, perhaps a little too hard, she realized as Ami coughed from the impact.

“I bet it’s really cute inside!”  Usagi wormed her way between them and linked arms with each one, skipping forward and dragging them along beside.  “So, let’s go!”

The darkness inside took a moment to adjust to, with the only true lighting focused on the catwalk.  Ami’s cheeks reddened and Makoto’s jaw dropped at the statuesque woman currently strutting her stuff.  “Wow, she’s so pretty!” Usagi exclaimed.  The other two merely nodded.

Ami began to scan the crowd, and it wasn’t long before she found Minako, engrossed in flirting with one of the dancers, and Haruka on a chair nearby, seemingly asleep.  “There!” she pointed, and the trio made their way over to the others, navigating around tables and chairs.

“Oh, hi guys!” Minako called, waving happily. “Now it’s a party!”  She glanced at Haruka, slumped over on herself, snoring audibly.  “Well, for us, anyway!” she laughed, taking another gulp of her drink.  “I was just teaching Reika here how to tie a cherry stem in a knot!  Want to learn?”  Minako winked saucily, gesturing to the several knotted stems on the table in front of her.  “The secret,” she whispered loudly, “is to use a little bit of teeth.”

“Ooh, I want to learn!” Usagi volunteered.

“Not now, Usagi,” chorused Makoto and Ami in unison.

“Mina, I think it’s about time we take Haruka home, don’t you?” asked Ami.

Minako sighed.  “Squidowmaker sent you to break up the fun, didn’t she?”  The three nodded.  “Fine, fine.  Hang on one second.”  Minako fished a pen out from her clutch and uncapped it with her teeth, scribbling her number on a napkin.  “If you ever want to finish learning,” she intoned to Reika, who accepted the gift with a grin before departing.

“Mina, won’t Rei be mad that you gave your number out?” Usagi asked worriedly as the other blonde pounded the rest of her drink.

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”  She slammed the glass down and then cracked her neck.  “Okay, let’s do this!”  Makoto stepped forward, and the two hoisted Haruka between their shoulders.

“That was the number for the pizza place, anyway,” Ami whispered to Usagi.

“You caught me, Ami!” replied Minako between grunts. “That way, she can still eat out!” Everyone else groaned at the poor joke, and Makoto let Minako handle just a little bit more of Haruka’s weight in response.

Their ride was waiting outside, as per Ami’s instructions, and they all clambered in.  Getting Haruka home and in bed was relatively short work, and Minako grinned when she noticed all of the glitter on Haruka’s clothes, which would probably haunt Michiru for months.  She shot off a quick picture of Haruka tucked in bed to Michiru and turned to the others. “Well, that’s taken care of!  All’s well that ends.”

Ami shook her head.  “I think you mean all’s well that ends well.”

“Meh, same thing.”  Minako brushed past her.  “Who wants popcorn?  It’s cold, but still good!” she called, already bounding down the stairs.  

–

“Michiru, did you want a bachelorette party?” Rei fidgeted with her program, shifting a little in her seat.  “I mean, I know you wouldn’t want that kind, but did you want me to plan anything?”  She had been feeling a little guilty all day about the thought.  What kind of Maid of Honor was she supposed to be if she couldn’t even take care of such an important detail?

Michiru laughed a little.  “Rei, what on do you think today was?  Your company is all I require.”  She smiled sincerely, a rarity, and Rei returned it as the lights began to dim.

#reinako #harumichi #minako aino #rei hino #michiru kaioh #Haruka tenoh #sparkle sparkle #my writing #this is happy and light #which is quite different from my usual fare #and was a lovely change to write #so i hope it turned out well!