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temozarela · 2 months

Text

-> miss you already

GETO X READER MDNI, smut, slow burn, fluff, angst, soft geto, comfort, mutual pining

geto finds you after his defection to say goodbye

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

inspiration (@ayyy-pee)

part 2

ao3 version

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The beginnings of dusk settled over the mountains, soft lavender clouds blushing as the amber sun settled behind them. You were settled at your desk, pen loose in your grip as you stared out of your window. The breeze was cool on your cheeks and you knew that it was probably time to pull the windows closed since the remnants of Summer were scarce, only obvious through the very last of the green leaves, of which were tinged red at the very tips. You could see the main courtyard of Jujutsu Tech from your room, meaning that you often knew who was present and where they were. Previously that day, you had watched Geto leave at 7am, then Nanami at 2pm, and Shoko and Gojo- presumably to the bar- at 5pm. You didn’t get offended about the lack of invite, after all, you often said no these days. Since Geto didn’t choose to go out much, you often chose to stay back with him instead. It was nicer than the sweaty noisiness of the bar Shoko liked. It was her special discovery in second year- a bar that didn’t ask for ID. The others quickly adopted it too, and despite them now being of age, they never grew out of it. You guessed they were emotionally attached to it now, despite the poor quality of the drinks. Geto and you often read together on those quieter nights, or you watched shitty horror movies. You had a tendency to be shyer around bigger groups, so being able to have time alone with Geto was nice, and you felt a lot closer to him because of it. You weren’t an idiot though, you knew he got a lot of female attention. It wasn’t uncommon for you to get glared at when you went out together, and there were occasions where girls had come up to you for permission to ask him out. Truthfully, these girls were often stunning, and part of you even resented Geto for being the one who got their attention, especially since he always politely apologised with a bow- or on his lazier days, he gave them Gojo’s number instead. What a waste.

You had been expecting Geto back at 4pm, but you hadn’t seen him come back yet. In an act of desperate boredom, you’d even checked his room, the training areas, the vending machines, and even the classrooms. Nope. No Geto in sight. It was a shame that he wasn’t there for a ‘just us two’ evening, but that concern was long gone by 6pm. Where was he? You had tried texting and calling him. No response. You had even texted Gojo about whether he’d contacted them.

Nah but u sure he isn’t stuck in the toilet or smth? xoxo

And Shoko.

nope.

not since tues soz

So there you were, sat at your desk, anxiously watching the school entrance. For a second, you had wondered about reporting him missing, however you shook it off. What could the police do that a special grade sorcerer couldn’t?

By the time it was dark, your back ached and you hadn’t made any progress on your homework for at least 3 hours. 9pm. Something was definitely wrong. You tried not to fret, you had noticed how tired he’d been lately- maybe he had chosen to stay in the city for a while to get his mind off things. You groaned, burying your head in your arms. You really missed him, and the worst part was that you were the only one.

See, Shoko and Gojo had the mindset of ‘if it was something he couldn’t handle, it’d be all over the news’, and you were more sensitive than them- you knew that- but it hadn’t stopped you from turning the news on anyway, letting it drone on in the background. Just in case. However, after a while, the hours of constant murmuring about war, murders, a girl being kidnapped, and heavy rain forecast for the next few days wasn’t doing much for your emotional state, so now you finally reached for the remote, turning it off, and by consequence, plunging yourself into deafening silence.

It was late and you were still in your uniform, you noted. You were tired too.

With a hefty sigh, you collapsed onto your bed, staring at your ceiling. The wind whispered, lowly outside, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. You idly chided yourself for forgetting to close the window, but you couldn’t find the energy to do anything about it.

Finally, after a few deep breaths, you found solace in sleep.

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You narrowed your eyebrows as you felt your body being jolted, large hands gripping your face, and then your shoulders. Groaning softly, you turned in your sleep, trying to make sense of the voice fading in and out of your brain. It didn’t sound like it was from your dream… It was hushed… low… soft…

It sounded like your name.

Cold hands touched your face again, turning your head. In response, your eyelashes fluttered open. You were surprised, in your groggy state, that you couldn’t see your room. Was something blocking your view? Then, regretfully, you noted that your uniform was sticking to your skin, and that you never did change.

Also, it was freezing.

“Hey.”

You jumped.

“What the fuck.” You croaked, squinting upwards. “Geto?”

“Yeah-”

“Finally.”

“Look-”

“You fucking stink.”

“Ok, just-”

��No seriously, it’s rancid. Hang on, let me get the light…” You mumbled, blinking sleepily.

“Wait, first I should tell you-” Your numb fingers found the light switch, and you flicked it on.

“Ok, ok,” You paused, eyes widening as his figure was illuminated, and suddenly you were very awake. “What the fuck.”

Geto was dripping with blood. His face, his shirt, his trousers- drenched. You studied his face, head cocked. He thinned his lips, looking… mildly unimpressed.

“As I was trying to say,” He started, “I’m leaving.”

“You… just got here.” You muttered, squinting at him.

“No, I-” Geto sighed, running his dirtied fingers through his loose hair, “I’m leaving Jujutsu Tech.”

“Why?”

“I want to create a world of only Jujutsu sorcerers.” He swallowed, hands clenched by his sides. You stilled, mind buzzing.

“How…” You rubbed your temples, looking around, “How… did you get in here?”

Geto stared at you, dubiously. “That’s what you want to ask?”

You nodded. “I have other questions too, but I lock my door at night and now I have safety concerns.”

“Your window was open.”

“Oh yeah.” You mumbled, running a hand over your face. “Fuck.”

“I’m tired of the higher-ups avoiding the root of the problem, so I’m leaving.” Geto continued, carefully.

“Oh.” You said, struggling to find words. “Right now?”

Geto looked at you strangely, then nodded.

“Do the others know?”

Geto shook his head.

You stared at him for a second, eyebrows furrowed, a pensive frown fixed on your face.

“Holy shit!” You sat up, eyes wide with realisation. “Whose blood is that?” You raised your voice, gesturing at his shirt. You were so used to seeing gore as a sorcerer, it hadn’t even occurred to you that the blood on his clothes was anything strange at all.

“Don’t be so loud.” Geto hissed, “It’s just from some non-sorcerers.”

With a raise of your eyebrows, you scrutinised him, “Just some non-sorcerers’?” You scoffed. “Just? How many?”

He swallowed, “112.”

You blinked at him.

“Just… 112… innocent people?” You replied, slowly.

Geto breathed, deeply, “I had to.”

“What would’ve happened if you didn’t?” Your voice climbed as you gestured frantically.

“I wouldn’t have solidified my resolve.” Geto’s shoulders tensed.

You almost wanted to laugh.

“It’s always you and your fucking resolve, isn’t it?” You muttered, dryly. Geto watched you, uncomfortably, his arms hanging uselessly by his sides. A heavy silence hung in the air like a toppled vase, microseconds away from shattering on the floor.

You sighed heavily, crossing your legs, “So… what now?”

“Come with me.”

“Excuse me?”

Geto crouched to your level, hands reaching for yours, “I don’t care if you hate what I do, just come with me.”

You froze, fingers twitching between his clammy hands.

“You’ll have a home, an allowance, I’ll try to give you the best life possible. I don’t want to leave you here to work 50 hours a week and then to die at 26.”

He had a point.

It was a good offer.

Your eyes darted between Geto’s dark ones. “Why me? Shouldn’t you take Gojo?”

“I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.” Geto squeezed your hands tightly. “Satoru enjoys it- fighting with the higher ups and spending his free time exorcising curses. It’s who he is. It’s not who you are, though.”

“It’s not.” You agreed, softly.

Geto moved to perch on your bed, but you swatted his shoulder, silently gesturing at his bloody clothing. He nodded, an amused glint in his eyes, as he moved to politely kneel on the floor. You climbed out of your bed to sit next to him, shivering slightly at the iciness of the wooden floorboards. Stretching your legs in front of you, you slowly exhaled.

At least he was safe, right?

To be honest, you still didn’t really know what to think of it. It’s not something you had even thought to prepare yourself for. You’d miss him if he left, you knew that. He knew that you didn’t enjoy being a sorcerer, and you were a little pissed that he had used it against you, but he wasn’t wrong. Being a curse user with him didn’t sound half bad, either. It wasn’t an easy decision to make though and he had to understand that.

“We need to get you out of those clothes.” You murmured.

Geto looked at you, “Do you even have anything I can change into?”

You shook your head, “I can stop by your room, I’ll get a bath running.”

“We can’t.” He replied, “I don’t want to be seen.”

“It’s 2am, Geto.” You said shortly after sparing a glance at your clock, “We’ll be fine.”

Geto looked hesitant as you stood up, offering him a hand.

The walk to the bathroom was silent as you snuck past the dorms. Gojo and Shoko were long asleep, so being caught wasn’t too much of a concern. After retrieving a few bits from Geto’s room, you crept into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. The tiles were cold under your bare feet, but you paid it no mind as you turned the bath tap on, waiting for the water to run hot. Behind you, Geto changed out of his ruined uniform, and you willed yourself not to look. Silence settled over the two of you again, but you knew this time it was because you were deep in thought. Once the tub was full, you turned the tap off, stepping back to allow Geto to climb in. He thanked you softly before stepping in, but your eyes were fixed on the floor as your cheeks heated. When you looked up again, you saw that he was mostly submerged by the water, the ends of his inky hair soaked and curling as it floated in the crystalline water. He watched you expectantly, his gaze sweet and warm, like honey, as you rolled your sleeves up.

Carefully, you poured some of the water over his hair using a cup. You then reached for the shampoo. After pouring a dollop onto your palms, you massaged it onto his scalp. He leaned back, sighing softly as you washed his hair, fingernails gently scratching his skull.

“Where are you going next?” You started, continuing to wash his hair.

Geto hummed pensively, “Who knows… Where do you want to go?”

Your hands froze in place. “I never said I’d go.”

“Right,” Geto said, “but you will, won’t you?”

“No.” You replied, defensively.

“No?” He sounded amused.

“Nope.”

“In that case, maybe I’ll go abroad…”

You swallowed, “How far?”

“Maybe somewhere pretty like Croatia.”

“…That’s far.”

“It is.” Geto agreed.

“Can I convince you to stay?”

“Nope.”

“Ok.” You frowned, resuming the movement of your fingers in his hair. After a moment you stopped again, “What if I promised to join you later?”

Geto sat up.

“I have too many loose ends,” You added, “I don’t want to regret this.”

“How long?”

You exhaled, slowly, “Maybe a year or two?”

Geto looked at you over his shoulder, his stare dark, “That’s long.”

“Well,” Meeting his gaze, you raised an eyebrow, “I hope you’re willing to wait for me, then.”

“I am.” His response was quick, maybe even too quick as it took you off guard.

“Ok.” You nodded slowly, “That works.”

The rest of the bath was quiet, the two of you in contemplating the decisions being made. Only the lulling waves of the water, lapping against the white porcelain tub, alongside both of your soft breaths filled the otherwise silent room. Geto’s hair was silky as you ran your fingers through it. In the light of the bathroom, you noticed how the finer strands looked more chocolate than black, notes of hazel glittering amongst the glistening, dark locks. You squeezed the excess water out of his hair, then dried your hands on your trousers. Afterwards, you moved to stand in front of the bath so that you could see his face. He looked elegant. It seemed that he had either lost, or chosen not to wear his gauges as his gaping earlobes hung, empty. You realised then that you had never seen him without them before. It was different. Previously, you had brushed his hair away from his face, allowing you to see him without obstruction, and you thanked yourself for it now. His face was chiselled, everything about him seeming so sharp from his cheekbones, to his jawline. There seemed to be more colour behind his tanned skin, at least more than there used to be. The purple blotching under his brooding eyes was still there from months of exhaustion, but his facial expressions no longer held that lingering fatigue anymore. He looked healthier, happier even, than he had for a while. Geto’s thin eyebrows were raised as he stared at you, no doubt because you were staring at him. You couldn’t help it though, the way droplets tumbled down his broad shoulders was hypnotising and you almost wanted to condemn the water for concealing the rest of his body under a thick layer of bubbles.

“Are you done?” Geto drawled, sounding equal parts charmed and bored.

You cocked your head, furrowing your eyebrows, “No, not quite.” You muttered, absentmindedly.

He really was beautiful.

In that moment you understood every girl who had given you death glares for standing with him, and every girl who had boldly asked for his number. God knows, you’d be too scared to. You pitied that they were never able to see him like this. Every girl deserved this at least once, you thought, it was definitely more therapeutic than anything a psychiatrist could offer you.

Lethargically, you stretched your arms above your head, yawning. “Ok, yeah I’m done.”

For a second, it seemed that Geto was trying to glare at you, but starting with the slight twitch of his mouth, he broke into soft, flustered laughter.

“Fuck,” He ran a hand over his face. “You really are something, aren’t you?”

Suddenly unsure of how to respond, you looked at him, wide-eyed, your cheeks burning.

Geto smiled at you affectionately, “Just pass me my towel, please.”

You nodded, reaching for the white, fluffy towel you had left out for him. When Geto made a move to get out, you covered your eyes.

“I was meaning to ask,” His voice sounded somewhere behind you, “how come you’re still wearing your uniform?”

Oh yeah.

“I didn’t exactly intend to fall asleep like this, you know.” Your hand moved from your face to pull at the creased fabric, self-consciously. “I was kinda distracted yesterday.”

“Oh?” The rustling of Geto’s clothing paused. “How come?”

You scoffed, “Because you went missing? I had the news on and everything.”

“You did?” He cooed, teasingly, pulling a shirt over his head, judging from what you could hear.

“…Yes.” You scowled.

The way he said your name after that was far softer than you had ever heard it before. It made you feel warm in every nook and cranny of your body, like fire spreading from your cheeks, and flickering inwards to consume your beating heart. When you felt his hand land on your shoulder, you tensed, chewing on the inside of your cheek with anticipation.

“I’m sorry.” He said, voice low and smooth.

You turned to see him changed into a white t-shirt and grey joggers. “Really?”

Geto nodded, “I didn’t realise that you’d worry.”

“Of course I would.” You looked up at him, carefully studying his face.

“I know it’s selfish but… I’m glad you did.”

His confession made you smile warmly.

“Stay the night.” It wasn’t a question, you knew that he wouldn’t be able to find a hotel room at this time.

Geto shook his head, “You know I can’t, my room is directly next to Satoru’s. It’s too risky.”

You rolled your eyes, fondly, “Stay in mine, then. Shoko won’t wake up until 3 in the afternoon.”

He opened his mouth to protest.

“This is non-negotiable, by the way.” You added.

His mouth closed.

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By the time Geto had tucked himself into your bed, you had changed into pyjamas. It was cute seeing him snuggled next to your plushies, it just seemed so… right. You climbed in next to him, unable to close the gap between you, despite yourself. Admittedly, you had been expecting some kind of argument over who would take the bed and who would offer to sleep on the floor but end up taking the bed anyway, but much to your relief, Geto seemed too exhausted to care. You weren’t going to complain. For a while, you just watched each other, wordlessly, eyes half-lidded.

“Will you be gone when I wake up?”

You knew the answer, but you asked anyway.

Geto shifted under the covers, brushing his hand against yours. “Probably.”

“Shame.”

He watched you for a moment, moving his hand to cup your cheek. Like many times that night, you met his gentle gaze, leaning into his touch, gingerly.

“A year is a long time.” Geto murmured.

You agreed.

“It’s a long time to wait to do something I’ve been wanting to do for months.”

Fuck anything you had said before about being tired, you were wide awake.

“Excuse me?”

Geto smiled at you, lopsidedly, “Sorry if I read you wrong but… I like you. I really do.”

“And…” You swallowed.

“I want to say goodbye to you… properly.”

Fuck.

“I’d like that, Geto.” You whispered.

Before you knew it, he was on top of you, muscular thighs hugging your hips. You sat up, hands reaching to pull him down by his collar. When your lips crashed into his, you felt euphoric. As his warm lips moved against yours, your hands moved to his hips, slipping under his t-shirt to trace the ridges of his abs. You felt his muscles tense as you touched them, paired with a low ‘fuck’, whispered into your mouth. When Geto leaned back to peel his shirt off, you instantly missed his body, but the sight of his torso in full was… jaw-dropping. Without doubt, you knew that he was the kind of man that the Ancient Greeks erected temples for. Everything about him was beautiful, from the dusky areola which orbited his nipples, to the trail of hair below his navel. You swallowed, running your hands up his torso. In response, Geto leaned down, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

Next to go was your shirt, which ended up on your floor next to his. Geto’s hands were quick to cup your breasts, fingers brushing the sensitive nubs as he gently squeezed them. You whimpered, softly, looking up at his focused face.

“Please…” You arched your back, pushing your chest towards him. He swore under his breath before pushing you down so you were horizontal. In an act of fleeting tenderness, he brushed your hair from your face, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, before attacking your neck with bites and kisses. You gasped as his hands roamed downwards, grazing over your stomach before his fingers strayed under your waistband. He paused his work on your neck to look up at you, silently checking on you with a sweet smile. You nodded, slipping one of your hands into his damp hair as you guided his head back to your neck. Without hesitation, he started pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin, no doubt leaving a myriad of marks. When his hand breached your pyjama bottoms, cupping your cunt with excruciating affection, your stomach erupted with butterflies.

“How- do you- want- me?” He asked you between kisses, nose buried in the crook of your neck.

You swore, hips uselessly pushing against his touch, “I’m really not picky.” You rushed, becoming more and more desperate for his touch.

Geto snorted, pressing a gentle kiss against the column of your throat, “That’s not very helpful, sweetheart.”

“Just- touch me!” You whined, impatiently, your grip on his hair tightening. As you tugged, Geto made a low noise at the back of his throat.

“Whore.” You laughed breathlessly as he playfully bit down on your neck, his fingers finally slipping between your folds.

Geto smirked into your neck and you could feel it. “I wouldn’t be getting so cocky, if I were you.” He warned, circling your clit with his fingertip.

“Do your worst.” You grinned, pulling his face back to yours to make out with him again. When you pulled his hair again, he moaned against your lips oh-so prettily, fuelling the burning lust inside of you. You were hyper-aware of every graze of his skin against you, somehow his fingers against you felt 10 times better than you own and it made you insatiable. You could feel the coil in your lower stomach begin to snap as Geto’s tongue fucked your mouth, shamelessly moaning against your tongue. You were so close, soso close…

Geto pulled away, watching you with a grin. “Sorry, sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek, apologetically, “I’m impatient, and I really fucking need you right now.”

Despite your initial frustration, his words set your heart alite as you whined. He grunted as he lifted his hips, enabling you to kick your pyjama bottoms off, hastily. When you spread your legs for him, he sat back, using his middle and index finger to spread your dripping folds.

“Fuck.” He breathed, pressing his thumb against your entrance, “You’re soaked.”

Your hips involuntarily jutted into his touch, desperately searching for more.

“Geto, please.” You begged, hands clenching your sheets. His eyes flickered up to yours, his gaze dark.

“Suguru.” He muttered, starting to palm himself through his joggers, “Please. Call me Suguru.”

In the moonlight, the outline of his cock looked more impressive than any Renaissance painting you’d ever seen. You needed him so badly it hurt.

“Fuck, Suguru…” You pressed your thighs together, needily, as you watched him pull his joggers down, his cock hard and heavy, springing to stand against his lower stomach.

He was big.

No fuck that, he was massive.

You knew you had never even tried anything that big in your life, but maybe it was the way his precum dribbled down his thick shaft, you didn’t feel nervous at all.

Geto leaned in to kiss you softly, uttering gentle praise as he pressed his leaking tip to your entrance. Your fingers found purchase around his neck, fingernails digging in at the ache of the intrusion.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Geto groaned against your lips, “Fuck, you feel so good, so fucking wet for me…”

Once he was halfway in, he slowed to kiss your cheek. “Such a good fucking girl.”

Impatiently, you rocked your hips against him, making him slide in further. You moaned, gasping at the feeling of being so full.

Geto wasn’t faring so well either, letting low whines slip as he inched in a little more until his hips were flush with yours.

His eyes met yours desperately, “You ok?” He swallowed, watching you carefully as you adjusted.

“Mhm.” You uttered, weakly, “You can move.”

Geto nodded, cheeks flushed, as he experimentally fucked into you, the steady slapping of your skin speeding up as you begged him for more. With a groan, he buried his head in your neck, releasing soft pants and grunts against your bruised skin. You cried out, nails raking down his back as his pace bordered on lethal as he pounded into you, forcing your body up and down your bed.

“Mhmm, ‘Sugu!” You whined, arching your back as he pressed inside of you. Geto nipped your neck, hands securing your hips as he changed his angle, hitting that sweet spot inside of you that made you drool.

“Right there- right there- please-“

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he abused your cunt, the wetness soaking the insides of your thighs and no doubt Geto’s crotch as well.

“Right there?” He teased, but his voice was husky and it was clear he was approaching his peak from the way he grunted after. One of his hands moved from its position on your hips, instead pressing down on your lower stomach. You wailed, thrashing against him as the burning pressure in your lower stomach climbed. You were so close.

“Fuck, please- Suguru I need you-” You were cut off by Geto’s lips as his hand moved to where you needed it the most, his fingers rubbing your sensitive clit. His pace sped up as he chased his own orgasm, the heat of your core irresistible to him.

“Fuck.” Geto groaned, “Can I?”

Your thighs tightened around his waist against your will. “Fuck no.” You hissed between kisses.

“Shit.”

It was too good, you didn’t want him to pull out, and you knew sure as hell that he didn’t either. You couldn’t risk it though.

With a final pinch of your swollen clit, you came, legs shaking and fingers tugging at his hair as you cried out. Geto wasn’t far behind, swearing as he pulled out despite your legs trapping him in.

With a few final tugs of his length, he came on your stomach, panting as he watched his spend dripped down your thighs.

“Fuck.”

“…Yeah…”

You closed your eyes, basking in the sleepiness of the aftermath. Somewhere next to you, Geto moved, leaning over you before you felt soft fabric on your lower stomach, cleaning up his mess on your body and your own mess between your thighs.

“Thanks.” You muttered, sleepily.

When Geto finally lay down next to you, he pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead tenderly.

“I’ll see you again one day.” He whispered against your skin.

“You will.” You murmured, ignoring the lump in your throat, “One day.”

Geto released a content hum which vibrated in his chest and throat.

“I miss you already.”

#angst #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #geto x reader #jjk smut #jjk shoko #comfort #jjk angst #jjk comfort #jjk fluff #fluff

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shirecorn · 11 months

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Shirecorn's Ponyverse Masterpost

So for the last 2 months I've fixated on doing redesigns based somewhat loosely on My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. I've had so much fun filling in the gaps and extrapolating until my version is less of a redesign and more of an AU.

"Ponies" are three species of sentient hoofed creatures that populate Equestria. They worship giant goddesses that fill the sky and ferry the moon and sun across the world.

Tag navigation

#Shire draws mlp - drawings only. Leaves out the lore

#Skyscraper gods lore - drawings, posts, and asks that expand on the world. Talks about biology, genetics, ritual, society, politics, religion, but mostly creature design and magic.

#Skyscraper Gods - Art, asks, posts, and fanart! Everything to do with both my little pony canon and my version of things. Includes drawings without lore, and lore without drawings. This is the tag to browse to make sure you see it all

Characters

In progress: Discord

○ The Mane Six ○ All Alicorns,

○ Rarity ○ Fluttershy ○ Flutterbat ○ Applejack ○ Pinkie Pie ○ Pinkie Pie Pegasus ○ Rainbow Dash ○ Twilight Sparkle ○ Raritwi ○ Spike

○ Princess Celestia + Princess Luna ○ Princess Cadance + Shining Armor + Flurry Heart ○ Sunset Shimmer ○ Sunburst ○ Apple Bloom + Scootaloo + Sweetie Belle (Cutie Mark Crusaders) ○ Big Macintosh/Ochard Blossom (she is a woman) ○ Granny Smith ○ Mr & Mrs Cake + Pound Cake and Pumpkin Cake ○ Maud Pie + Mudbriar ○ Trixie Lulamoon + Starlight Glimmer ○ Cozy Glow ○ Zephyr Breeze ○ Escape Room Guy + Dusty Pages ○ Berry Punch/Berryshine ○ Vapor Trail ○ Bulk Biceps ○ Tempest Shadow ○ Flim and Flam ○ Queen Chrysalis + Thorax + Ocellus (Changelings) ○ Autumn Blaze (kirin) ○ Rain Shine (kirin leader) ○ Sky Beak (hippogriff) ○ Starcatcher and Skywishes (G3)

Lore

○ The 3 pony species ○ Breeding/genetics ○ The 4 Alicorns stories ○ Gods of non-pony species? Seapony god? ○ Unicorn Horns: Starlight physics, Different shapes, Alicorn horns, Horn colors, ○ Where did Spike come from? (1) (2) ○ Your daughter has won the favor of God (fic) ○ Nightmare moon playlist ○ Cutie marks are cultural not physical: (1) (2) ○ Starlight Glimmer's hometown and her cult ○ Alicorns don't fit inside buildings ○ Discord is a headache to behold ○ Government in the world of gods ○ Gender and matriarchy ○ Scootaloo's flightless disability ○ Equestria Girls Vs Skyscraper Gods, existential horror ○ Pinkie Pie breaks the forth wall because she hopped worlds once ○ Vampire fruit bat ecology and virus ○ How ponies caught it

Meta

○ Using Skyscraper Gods as inspiration (2) ○ Why I like expanding on MLP: its simplicity ○ MLP Creature designs are already good ○ If you don't like my designs ○ I'm just having fun: (1) (2) ○ Mane 6 doodle to finished design ○ After ponies ○ Designing based on birds and animals ○ Starcatcher dove

Shitposts and Doodles

○ My fursona in mlp style ○ Daytime! Nighttime! ○ Baby god ○ Local horse fistfights the sun ○ Shining armor alicorn ○ Sunset shimmer becomes god (2) ○ Poodle rarity ○ Zephyr Breeze thinks RD is a man ○ Season 9 ○ Why is EQ an hour long ○ Being held at gunpoint to watch Equestria Girls ○ World's gayest dash ○ 18 pounds of crake

Fanart by others

○ Fanart tag

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○ People request a lot and that normal ○ Prices are low because I'm already fixated

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robobarbie · 4 months

Note

Toasty and MC kissing in the rain

That's it that's the ask

SENT THIS ASK TO ALLIE FOR A RESPONSE!

-------

"Well. What now?"

Toasty suppressed a smirk as they looked down at you. Just as he thought, you were progressing from vexed to fuming after his remark.

"I knew you were going to lord this over me."

"It's been cloudy all day!"

"Yesterday was cloudy too!" You turned your head away with a simmering pout. "...And I didn't want to carry the umbrella."

Toasty burst into laughter– he couldn't help it, you're always so cute when you're grumpy like this– and gestured back to the bakery cafe you'd just left. "We can always head back in and nurse a coffee for a little while."

"You just said you were stuffed *and* your doctor said to lay off the caffeine."

"I didn't say I'd drink it. A couple of polite sips, at most."

"That's too reasonable. How about I make a run for the car and pick you up at the curb?"

"I think I'd be better equipped for that."

"Because you're so tall you'll make it there in three steps?"

"No, because I have a hoodie on." Toasty flipped up said hoodie, tucking their hair inside for good measure.

"I'm not gonna make the birthday boy run out in the rain!"

"Oh, come on! What's with the sudden chivalry?" A blush burned across their cheeks.

"It's just basic birthday decency. I'll be okay, honest. We'll just turn on the heat to dry me off."

He glanced out at the parking lot, then back at you, a softer grin spreading across his face. "What if the birthday boy wants to go…together?"

"Sure, and we could share your hoodie as we run."

Your quip has no bite, and Toasty calls you out on it by stretching the top of the hoodie over your head. "You'll have to stay close, then."

You made it all of two steps before getting completely soaked, laughing and play-shoving each other until you reached the car. You both leaned against the car doors, catching your breath and giggling in equal measure, until the damp and the cold finally won your full attention.

Toasty fished for his keys in his pockets, still holding the lip of the hoodie out. You watched his still-flushed face shift in concentration; it was hard not to smile seeing his furrowed brow and bit lip, framed with soaked locks of hair. The warmth of the moment almost canceled out the cold of the rain– almost.

"Hey. Hold on."

"Huh?"

You took hold of the lip of the hoodie, yanking it further out– and him closer to you. Toasty yelped, nearly crashing into you and dropping the car keys.

"Y–you'll stretch out my hoodie!"

"Oh, nooo."

"What happened to birthday decency?" Toasty avoided your eyes, their blush deepening.

"Superseded by the first birthday rule."

"The what?"

You drew closer. "Well, second birthday rule. The first is that the birthday boy gets to do whatever they want."

"Then the second?"

"That the birthday boy deserves a kiss."

You closed the distance, and Toasty melted.

#THANK YOU ALLIE SAY IT BACK #bp ask #anon ask #nakedtoaster #allie text #guest text

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superprincesspea · 18 days

Text

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 14 - Secrets and Sapphires

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

~~~

Maris’ anger had not diminished in your absence, and she was certainly glad of the thunderous scolding you received from your father.

His finger pointing, his voice booming so loudly you imagine half the keep can hear it.

Stupid, careless, girl.

He was right, you had been careless. You’d lost yourself in Aemond’s company and what could be more careless than that?

Except, that wasn’t why he was angry. You'd gone missing for hours and your mothers' cheeks were still stained with tears.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and you mean it, “I won’t let it happen again.”

“You shouldn’t even let her join us in the hall tonight!” Maris pipes in when the shouting has dwindled down to a halt, her eyes narrowed and vengeful.

But her attempt at siding with your father is soon thwarted because Borros Baratheon doles out the punishments, not his daughters, and a fresh wave of anger washes over him.

“Quiet girl!” he snaps, before returning his attention back to you, his voice booming again, “you’ll get changed and you’ll do it quickly or so help me!”

You don't need to be told twice, and rush to your room, pulling a yellow gown from your armoire before thinking better of it.

Maris already thought you were trying to steal Aemond and, in her mind, yellow was the colour to do it in. So, you reach for the sapphire blue, making tonight its third outing of the summer and perhaps its final one too.

You’re still fiddling with the tiny buttons when Cassandra sneaks into your room with a pitying look.

She sits patiently on the bed, waiting for you to finish before picking up your brush and nudging you onto the stool next to your vanity.

“We can’t have you looking like this,” she says, her voice cheerful as she gently pulls the brush through all the knots which had formed in the rain.

Trying not to wince each time she hits a snag, you sit quietly, miserably , worrying the skirt of your dress and wishing your father had forced you to stay behind.

You're still shaken from the way his voice had boomed in your ears, and you’d rather curl up in a ball and cry, instead of facing an evening of polite conversation and Maris’ seemingly endless supply of anger.

“She’ll get over it,” Cassandra says, and you know she’s right but that doesn’t make it any easier. If you could skip forward to a place where Maris didn’t hate you, you would, but there was no quick fix, only time.

“And...” she begins, waiting for you to meet her eye in the mirror, “ I think we both know she never had a chance.”

Heart suddenly in your throat, you look at your hands, hoping to hide any of the thoughts which may have escaped onto your face.

But Cassandra doesn’t need any confirmation of what she already knows to be true.

“I do not believe I’ve ever seen Prince Aemond look at Maris the way he looks at you,” she says, and you stiffen, it was exactly what the Queen had said at the tourney.

“If you knew why , you would be ashamed to have me as your sister.”

You look up from your hands just in time to see Cassandra’s eyes widen with horror, the brush stopping its progress.

“Do not tell me you have given him your virtue?”

“No! ” you say quickly, surprised by her suggestion.

Though, for one brief moment, you can’t help but imagine what that would be like.

High Valyrian rolling from his tongue, long fingers wrapping around your waist instead of books. Would his kiss be gentle, hesitant even? Just a soft, momentary press of lips to test your willing.

Or would it be certain? Urgent? Would he push you up against the bookcases, hard and feverish, his lips devouring yours before finding the racing pulse at your neck, his hands moving from your waist, hitching up the skirts of your dress and-

Clearing your throat, you banish the thought away, but not quickly enough. Your cheeks are more than a little flushed when you admit, “I met him before we came to court.”

“Where ?”

“On the beach below the keep.”

She laughs, her brow knitted with confusion, “why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Because I was alone… and I was…” you hold your tongue, could you really tell her the truth?

“I was swimming ,” you whisper, and it feels both cathartic and terrifying at the same time.

Cassandra’s fingers fall from your hair altogether and you dare not look at her in the mirror. Instead, you turn to meet her, face to face, your heart pounding harder than before, your palms slick with sickening nerves.

Yet, instead of shame you find anger, an emotion which barely ever registers on her face, and her voice is low, tense .

“Did he hurt you?” she demands in a hushed whisper which is no less powerful than your fathers bellowing.

“No ,” you gasp, knowing precisely what she is thinking as you reach to touch her arm and reassure her, “he only looked, but he has teased me about it all summer.”

She laughs then, relieved , her hands returning to your hair. “No wonder he looks at you like that .”

“Like what?”

“Like he is constantly on the brink of kissing you.”

Your cheeks flush yet again, but Cassandra’s tone hardens, scolding you. “You know you really should have told me this months ago. And Maris. How could she ever stand a chance when Prince Aemond had already fallen in love with you?”

“He loves tormenting me, nothing more.”

“If you say so,” Cassandra teases before shaking her head, “I still cannot believe you thought you could keep this a secret. Heavens, you can be so wilful sometimes.”

“But you’ll promise not to tell anyone?” you say, desperately, and by ‘anyone’, you mean Maris.

“We are sisters, your secrets are mine to keep, not to share,” she reassures, sliding the last pin into your hair and you relax, turning on the stool to hug her tightly.

It was strange, but despite all your torment, you hadn’t realised just how much you’d needed such comfort until her arms were wrapping around your shoulders and she was kissing the top of your head.

It was no secret that you and Cassandra had never been as close as you and Maris, who were like partners in crime compared to your perfect, angelic, older sister. But her embrace is so steadfast, that it seems impossible to imagine you could have any better friend or sister than her.

“You know...” she starts, as you pull away from the embrace, “we never did get to the bottom of who sent us these gowns...”

You look down at your dress, the sapphire bodice glimmering with gems, and she was right. After trying to thank Tyland Lannister, you hadn’t really wanted to think who could have bought them. Or why.

“Helaena told me that when Aemond lost his eye, they offered to replace it with gold,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “he chose a sapphire instead.”

“A sapphire?” you choke, picturing the way it might glitter beneath the patch across his eye. So beautiful, so radiant. Just like your gown.

Then you think of the times you’d wore the dress in front of him and feel as though you might be sick. From nerves, from anger, from the sheer audacity of the knowing smiles you’d seen on his face each time.

Were you really wearing something he’d picked out?

You didn’t want to believe it, but who else could afford such a thing?

Who else would choose this exact shade of sapphire blue?

Hurrying towards your armoire, you reach for the yellow gown once again but it's too late. Your father's voice is booming into your room and it's time to leave, whether you’re ready or not.

Cursing the entire situation, you trail behind your family all the way to the hall, wondering how long it would take them to notice if you decided to slip away. If you hadn’t gone missing this afternoon, you would chance it, but you’re not sure you can withstand any more of your father's anger.

Instead, you think, so what if Aemond chose your dress? It didn’t mean anything .

Except, you can’t even hold that lie in your brain for more than a moment before it falls apart. Because it did mean something. Everything he’d done meant something .

He’d met you on the beach in spring and thought of you often enough to invite you here for summer, to choose the books on your nightstand, and purchase the most beautiful gown you’d ever seen, for no other purpose than to see you standing in a room wearing the exact shade of his eye.

Yet, the same man who’d done all those things, had also stolen more than one look at your naked body, threatened all your suitors, toyed with Maris, told everyone you couldn’t dance, embarrassed you in front of his mother, and killed Ser Glover in cold blood.

He was impulsive, arrogant and completely ignorant to anyone’s feelings but his own. You still hated him, a few hours in the library couldn’t change that.

You could only pray that he would not be in the hall tonight because hating him and facing him were too very different things.

Yet there he was. Across the room. A dark line of fine black leather, his eye meeting with yours, holding all your attention before it slowly sinks to your dress.

The slightest twitch of a smile quivers at his lips, and you know, beyond any doubt, that he was the mysterious secret admirer who’d sent three gowns to the Baratheon sisters. One pink, one lilac and one sapphire blue.

You swallow hard and he begins to move, abandoning the people he was in conversation with, his usual cocky gait carrying him quickly across the room and, more importantly, directly towards you.

He’s already made it halfway before you jump into action.

Seven hells!

What was he thinking?

He was Aemond Targaryen. When he walked, people watched.

Maris watched.

He couldn’t just walk right up to you like this. He wasn’t the kind of man who walked right up to anyone- unless he was threatening them.

Breaking away from your family, you skirt around the edge of the room, and he changes direction. Another smile twitching at his lips, as though he’s enjoying the chase. But you’re not going far, just far enough so Maris cannot see past the crowds.

You wait for Aemond by a thick stone column and, when he’s close enough, you push him behind it, so you can be hidden from all the prying eyes that might be watching.

“We can find more privacy than this if you wish to have me alone, issa jorrāelagon,” he says, a devilish smirk now filling his cheeks entirely.

You sigh sharply, “that is the last thing I want!”

“Are you certain?” his gaze scrapes down, to where the tips of your fingers are still pressed against his chest, “then why are you pinning me against a wall?”

Embarrassed , you snatch your hands away, knotting them behind your back, your heart thumping as he laughs, enjoying every ounce of your torment as per usual.

Then you let out an exasperated sigh, wondering, yet again, how you’d spent so many hours with this man.

“You cannot just walk right up to me in front of the entire room,” you warn and, though a small frown creases into his brow, amusement still holds sway over his face.

“How else am I to ask you to dance?”

“You cannot!” you exclaim tartly, appalled to think that was what he was planning on doing. “You cannot even speak to me in front of them. I forbid it .”

“You forbid your prince?”

“Yes , Maris hates me enough as it is and, if you consider yourself my friend , you will do no more harm between us.”

At that, you try to leave, feeling you have already spent far too long with the most conspicuous man in the room, but his hand slides to your waist, holding you still.

“Do you consider yourself my friend?” he asks, and you cannot think of anything more dangerous than friendship with a dragon, but you’d say anything to placate him.

“We can be friends if you stay away from me.”

He snorts, “that's a strange recipe for friendship, would you not say?”

“Not if the friendship is already strange,” you retort before pulling away from his grasp and heading straight towards your family, only to be intercepted by Lord Boremund before you can even make it five paces.

“Little cousin,” he says, taking your hand, “please allow me the honour of your first dance this evening.”

You accept, glad to be away from Maris for as long as possible and surprised when Ser Robin asks for your next dance, then Lord Thorne for your third.

It seemed Aemond had not only allowed Tyland Lannister to resume the pursuit of your hand, but half of court too. Yet, like Tyland Lannister, it only made these men seem both spineless and fickle.

Were they all afraid of a dragon?

So, instead of feeling pleased to be dancing with them, you find yourself feeling increasingly annoyed, and you’re not the only one.

Throughout every turn you make around the floor, you see Aemond pacing the edges like a caged animal and three dances is all it takes before he breaks.

He strides fast, unconcerned by the movement swirling to avoid him, and you watch his every step with both heart pounding surprise and gut-wrenching exasperation, as he sweeps into Lord Thorne’s place and steals your hand without a single word to the other man.

“What are you doing?” You hiss under your breath, extremely conscious of the scene he is creating.

“It seems I cannot be your friend, ” he retorts, but you hardly hear him, you’re too busy looking around. Pleased to see that people are not pointing or staring, and the dance is continuing as though nothing is amiss.

It’s only Lord Thorne who looks out of place, his cheeks flushed with anger, his steps faltering as he tries to move around the other couples.

At this point, you think it might actually draw more attention if you stop dancing, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy about the situation. You’re so mad at Aemond, you could stamp on his stupid foot.

“You could have at least waited for the next dance,” you scold, knowing you would have rejected his offer, if he had actually asked.

“I want all your dances, including this one,” he says, leading you into a turn and when you’re facing him again, you glare, ensuring he knows that, despite your current actions, you’re still very much annoyed.

“And you think nothing of what I want?” you say. It was not half an hour since you’d told him not to speak with you, let alone dance with you. Yet here you were, in his arms.

“Would you rather dance with them instead of me ?”

Words stick on your tongue, and you're glad for another turn, so you can think of an answer, because you can’t exactly tell him ‘no’ .

You wouldn’t rather dance with them.

Lord Boremund was your cousin, Ser Robin was far too tall, and Lord Thorne was perfectly fine and perfectly handsome, except his touch did not set your skin ablaze as Aemond’s did.

You face him again, and you must say something, so you think of propriety and all the rules which had been drummed into your head since you were old enough to walk. “As an unmarried lady, I shall not be obliged to give special treatment to anyone, even his grace.”

“Then marry me.”

What?

You’re so surprised, you can’t help but laugh, your mind spinning, your cheeks heating beyond reason. “ Be serious, ” you say, almost choking on the words as they splutter from your lips.

“I am,” he replies with a low voice, and he isn’t joking. He’s waiting, wanting, but you cannot possibly give him the answer he craves.

You cannot even speak as he draws you in, holding you far closer than any man should in a room full of people. One hand on your lower back, the other brushing the length of your arm before he curls his fingers into yours.

If there had been butterflies in the library, there are dragons now. Hatching carelessly in the pit of your stomach. Hot and dangerous, long wings reaching to the very tips of your toes until you feel flimsy in his sturdy embrace.

You open your mouth, but there are no words, and what’s left is far worse than any words could ever be. You hate the sound which pants breathlessly from your lips, soft, submissive , welcoming his advances wholeheartedly.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were enjoying this. But you’re not. You don’t want him. Not as a friend, not as a husband.

Yet your eyes still graze his lips, and you find yourself wondering, for the second time in a single evening, what it would be like to be kissed by him.

"Marry me, Lady Baratheon,” he says again, and you both miss a step in the dance, almost colliding with another couple, before you regain control of your senses and wedge your free hand between your chest and his.

Gods. You cannot meet his eye.

“You do not dance well enough for me to condemn myself to marriage,” you whisper, your voice strained, before you force another laugh to break the tension.

If he’s disappointed, he doesn’t show it, his tone is still light, playful even. “Is it marriage you disapprove of, or your prince?”

You breathe out another shaky breath, but your voice is a little stronger when you say, “I do not disapprove of marriage. ” Only dragons.

Aemond’s huff of amusement is light, meant only for your ears, and you’re grateful when the dance requires you to break from his arms and weave between the other partners.

Inhaling a lung full of air, you’re certain not to let him reel you in again. Instead, you hold yourself rigid, your palm pressed against his chest to prevent any further encroachment into the battlements you’re trying desperately to defend.

“Now behave yourself or I shall be forced to return to my room, for yet another evening,” you warn, daring to meet his eye.

“Good ,” he smiles triumphantly, seeming to enjoy the way you’re struggling to hold him at bay, “I shall meet you there.”

“With the guard outside the door?” you say hotly, imagining the look on Ser Maurin’s face if Aemond tried to waltz into your room without a chaperone.

He leans in harder, forcing your arm to cave against his strength, “I shall climb in through the window.”

When you turn again, you jab his rib, not too hard but hard enough to make him wince and remind him how difficult climbing would be with such an injury, “I think not , and in any case, I shall bolt it to be certain.”

He chuckles and, though you’re not looking at him, you can picture just how smug his smile must be as he says, “you imagine a bolt across a window could stop me?”

“No ,” you glance back to meet his eye, “but I’d hope his grace would not force himself into someone’s company if they had asked him to stop .”

The music finishes before he can reply, and all the other couples break away with bows and curtsies to find someone new.

But not you and Aemond. Aemond wants all your dances, and he does not relinquish control of your hand despite your efforts. He holds it tight, possessive, and you can feel as people begin to stare.

“I shall scream if you do not let me go this instant,” you hiss under your breath, trying to remain composed.

His jaw tightens, frustration seeming to cling to every muscle in his body just as he loosens his grip, sliding his hand behind his back so his stance is as formal as it is unyielding.

When you turn to leave, you notice Maris who’s been staring at the whole scene with daggers instead of eyes.

“If you truly care about me at all,” you begin, purposely avoiding his gaze, “you will ask someone else to dance this instant or I fear Maris will never forgive me.”

Aemond snorts, “when you are here and she is in Storms End, it will not matter what she thinks.”

“It matters to me!” you say, a little too loudly, but you’re so painfully annoyed with him that you can hardly be expected to contain your temper, “not that you seem to think of anything but your own selfish desires.”

When you walk away, you feel him step to follow before he hesitates and turns on his heel to walk in the opposite direction.

Not that you dare to look back or feel any relief that he has not followed you, you’re too anxious for that.

Instead, you make it to where your sisters are standing with Belis, and Maris laughs as she says, “it seems Prince Aemond is pitying all the wallflowers with a dance this evening.”

Then you do look at him and, just as you’d asked, he’s escorting another to the floor. Lady Staunten, who’d not danced all summer and seemed more terrified than pleased to be in his company.

“Shall we take a turn of the room?” Cassandra offers with a warm smile and you’re grateful for another opportunity to leave Maris’ bad mood behind.

“Did you ask him about the dress?” she says, when you are far enough away from the others and, quite honestly, you’d forgotten about the dress altogether.

But you don’t say that, or anything, you’re too distracted, craning your neck to watch Aemond as he moves methodically across the floor, as though the dance holds no joy, only steps.

Did he really just ask you to marry him?

It was such a surprise, it felt like you could have imagined the whole thing. In fact, you wish you had imagined it. Then you wouldn’t have to think about it, and you were quite certain you could think of little else.

It wasn’t every day a man asked you such a question- o r ever. But you couldn’t be entirely sure of Aemond’s motives. Did he truly want marriage and all that it entailed, or was it just another hot-headed impulse?

Though you suppose none of that really mattered, since there were no circumstances in which you would agree to be his wife. Even if he wasn’t the most arrogant man in the world, he was still a Targaryen, and they were a strange family with even stranger proclivities.

Yet, by the time you’ve walked an entire circle of the room, he’s asking another wallflower to dance, and you feel the unmistakable claw of envy, scratching at your skin.

You turn away, wanting to forget about him but there was really no forgetting Aemond Targaryen.

There wasn’t even safety in the bosom of your family. There was Alicent, talking to your mother with a coy smile and, for one heart stopping moment, you wonder if she knows . If they both know.

Because marriage would not be a choice if your mother was involved. There would be no question about it, you’d be given to the crown without a single thought for your wishes, and that would be that .

“Ah, Lady Baratheon,” Alicent says, noticing the way you’re lingering in her periphery.

You curtsy politely, heart pounding as she waves her hand to beckon you closer.

“We were just discussing how pleasant it would be to enjoy the last days of summer with a picnic in the Kingswood. Do you ride?”

“Yes ." You even enjoyed it under usual circumstances.

"Good,” she laughs, the curls in her hair bouncing with the movement, “there is not much room in the wheelhouse for so many ladies and the fresh air will give you vigour.”

You start, thinking your mother might have something to say about the suggestion but she’s nodding along with the Queen. “You mean for me to ride all the way to the Kingswood?” you confirm, thinking it an unlikely ask for a high borne lady.

“I’m sure one of the men will keep you company,” Alicent says as though it's the most natural thing in the world. But what she means is, Aemond will keep you company .

Without thinking, you turn to look at him, annoyed that you cannot seem to retain autonomy over your own gaze, which seems intent to seek him out despite your wishes.

When you turn back to look at Alicent, her smile reminds you so much of her son that you almost tell her to hell with the Kingswood and to hell with Aemond. But you’re sure your mother would have some choice words if you humiliated her in front of the Queen.

So, you return her smile, thanking The Seven that Alicent has no idea her son just asked you to marry him. But she’s expecting it, you can see it on her face.

What had Aemond said in the library?

That she would finally think he was consenting to giving her a grandchild. Well, you aren’t consenting. As far as you were concerned, you had two older sisters and it was only proper that they should marry first.

~~~

Thank you for reading!

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #romance #female reader #enemies to lovers #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond #slow burn

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trubbishrubbish · 9 months

Text

New Raincode interview confirms something that I was not surprised to see.

Highlighted part was translated with DeepL.

Basically, Kodaka did not intend for Halara to be non-binary or be a positive LGBT rep.

I'm not surprised this is the case becuase Kodaka is still a cis guy and he really did not take to heart all the criticisms people had about Danganronpa when he made Rain Code. A lot of his bad writing choices are still in Rain Code like perverted jokes involving minors and racist character designs, of course when it comes to writing about gender, Kodaka would not write with a progressive mindset.

That said, Halara is still sending a social message, despite Kodaka not wanting it to be that way. Everyone in game respects Halara's gender. they never refer to them with he/she pronouns and there is never a point where they reveal that Halara was lying and they are actually a man/women.

Even when Shinigami, who calls Halara, "Hellara," pokes fun at if Halara is a man or a women, still respects their gender and pronouns

When Yuma is wondering about Halara's gender, he doesn't ask them because he thinks it would rude to suddenly spring this question up on them.

All this is sending the message that even if you question a person's gender when it isn't clearly defined as "male" or "female" you should still respect their identity no matter what as it's the polite thing to do.

And Halara's gender being unspecified means it can be anything from non-binary or agender or even a gender Halara themselves made to suit them.

It's funny how Kodaka can't write a good LGBT character on purpose, it has to be by accident. He accidently wrote Halara to be a positive nb rep.

So while referring to Halara as non-binary may technically be against the creators intention... Who fucking cares, the creator can't force people think about the characters he made in same way he does. They are going to think about characters in the most fun and LGBT positive way.

Sometimes craft even better versions of the character that the creator did not.

Link to the full interview:

#Kirby's Extra Blog #Halara Nightmare #Raincode #master detective archives: rain code #kazutaka kodaka #lgbt #non binary #lgbt discourse #lgbtq

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cockslutpadalecki · 2 years

Text

F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Summary: You’ve told Steve you’re not interested a hundred times, but he still won’t take no for an answer.

Characters: Dark!Best!Friend!Steve x F!Reader.

Words: 2.2K.

Warnings: non-con/dub-con, gaslighting, explicit sexual content, nipple sucking, female masturbation, forearm choking, forced/unwanted orgasm, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), cream pie, 18+.

A/N: Inspired by song of the same name by Marshmello Ft. Anne-Marie. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine.

You don’t know what wakes you, but as you lay in the darkness listening to the light pitter-patter of rain on your window, you finally hear it. At first you think it’s your mind playing tricks on you in the blanket of night, ears distorting at the sound of the rain getting heavier and then easing off, but there is no mistaking the soft knocks.

First two, then three until it’s coming in patterns too fast for you to count.

You sit up with a huff, your stomach sinking instantly as your eyes note the time glaring from your alarm clock.

2AM.

Anybody else would be confused and scared at the noise coming from downstairs at this ungodly hour, but you would bet your entire life savings that you know who is on the other side of the door before you even open it.

You get out of bed, and grab your robe hanging on the back of the door, tying a knot around your waist as you start to make your way downstairs.

The knocking is still persistent— a mixture of soft and hard, an indication of the late night visitor’s waning patience. The pettiness in you wants to go back to bed and pop in some earbuds, but you know that ignoring them does nothing as a deterrent. If anything, it just entices them to be more forceful with their knocks, shaking the walls until you lose your temper and end up downstairs anyway.

Reaching the front door, the chill seeping in from outside tickles at your bare feet and you silently curse for not putting your fluffy slippers on.

The knocks are full side-on fist thumps now— loud and angry thuds that make your ears ache. You pull the door toward you, and a rush of cold wet air slaps across your cheeks as your eyes land on who you expect.

You let out a frustrated sigh. “Not again, Steve.”

“Finally,” he smiles. “What were ya doing? Sleeping?” he adds with a drunken laugh.

You don’t find it funny. “Go home, Steve.”

A stray raindrop falls from the tip of his nose and onto his plump pink lips as his sapphire eyes gleam at you beneath the porch light. He’s soaked to the bone from the downpour, but the way he looks at you, you know he doesn’t care about his sodden clothes. Not now you’ve opened the door. To him, this must mean progress.

Steve tries to step inside but you block the doorway. “You're not gonna let me in?”

“You need to sleep off all that whiskey,” you tell him, bringing a hand up to waft away the stench of it rolling off his breath.

“How about,” he steps closer, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I sleep in your bed with you?”

“We’re not ten years old any more.”

Steve rolls his eyes with a light huff. “Why you being like this?”

“Because I don’t appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night,” you snap.

“I don’t mean like that,” he tuts. “I mean, like, not willing to even try and make us work.” He looks sad for a moment, and a part of you feels bad for him but it quickly passes. You’re sick of this conversation and the constant repetition that gets you nowhere.

“I’ve told you, I don’t like you the same way you like me,” you explain a little too kindly than he deserves. “You’re like a brother to me.”

He rolls his eyes again. “Not all that brother shit again.”

“Haven’t I made it clear that I’m not interested, Steve? We’re just friends.”

“But I love you,” he professes with a little whine, flashing you a pout.

“Look, I’m done being polite now,” you snip sharply. “Please leave me the fuck alone before I call the cops and tell them you’re harassing me.”

“Harassing you?” he scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not doing anything of the sort.”

“How many times have we been here before? Five, six thousand?” you question him. “Always turning up drunk in the middle of the night, talking all this shit about us being together and how I’m made for you? It’s insane. You look insane.”

He moves a little closer and you suddenly feel intimidated by the sheer size of him towering over you.

“Don’t look at me like that, Steve, it’s not going to work,” you warn, taking a step back but his arm reaches out and grabs your bicep before you can get away. “Ow, that hurts.”

His features twist and sour— his usual soft, saccharine stare morphing into something much more frightening.

Steve marches forward, dragging you along the carpet with him. You have no choice but to scramble backward, struggling to break free, your footsteps barely meeting the ground as he forces his way into the house. Just as you try to scream, the door slams shut and his spare hand clamps over your mouth, ssh-ing you in the process as your back meets the wall with a hard thud. You stare up at him with wide tear-filled eyes. His grip around your arm loosens and it quickly moves between your bodies, tugging and pulling at your robe. You struggle against him but the weight of his body on yours prevents you from being able to push him away.

“Steve, please,” you plead behind his clammy palm but it merely comes out as a muffled sound. Cold air swirls around your midriff as he gets your robe open, the chill of his wet clothes saturating your thin cotton shorts and tank top. His weight lifts for a split second, just enough to push your robe out of the way and then it returns, his hand flattening against the front of your shorts. Tears are hot on your skin as they spill over your lashes, feeling his fingers curl against your pussy and cup it tight.

Your whimper absorbs straight into the skin of Steve’s palm and what’s left of it sounds like a low hum, like you’re enjoying it. But you’re not. He smiles down at you as he removes his hand slowly, not even bothering to threaten you to keep quiet.

“I wanna hear you moan for me,” he tells you, giving you the affirmation you’ve been waiting for. His fingers are warm when he touches your now exposed cunt, your shorts tucked awkwardly into the crease of your thigh, and you can’t help when your body reacts without your permission. Steve leans in, kissing you hard, his tongue uncomfortably warm against yours. Water drips onto your face as the kiss continues, running down your cheeks until they blot against the swell of your tits through your vest.

You shake in his hold when he traces a finger over your clit which is slowly met by a second as they move down, strumming across your pussy lips. You’re horrified when you feel wetness gathering on his fingertips— a sticky warmth that cools the further it strays from your entrance and up to circle your clit. He gives the throbbing bead a little rub and back down again to repeat the process.

He moves his lips in a damp trail down your neck, nipping and nuzzling the skin, each kiss being accompanied by satisfied little moans. As he reaches the curve of your chest, he uses his free hand to pull down your top, exposing one of your breasts to him. His mouth quickly attaches to your nipple, suckling at the pebbling bud with loud, wet pops of his lips when he lets it go.

You don’t want to give Steve the satisfaction of crying out, instead biting down on your lower lip to stifle the whine that’s threatening to escape. You can taste copper on the tip of your tongue when he finally pushes a finger inside you, followed quickly by the other, working you open just enough until he’s spinning you round on the spot and pushing you flat against the wall.

“I wanted to take my time with you,” he grits out in your ear, “but I can’t wait. I just need to be inside you.”

“No, please don’t!” You squirm against the wall in a bid to prevent him access, but Steve places his forearm into the nape of your neck, pinning you to the spot. He fumbles briefly behind you and before you know it, he’s running the dome of his warm cock through your wet pussy lips. You attempt to plead once more but your words are cut off by Steve entering you sharply. A squeak tumbles from your lips and you hear him laugh deeply into your ear, followed by a heavy sigh.

“God, you feel like silk.”

You cry into the wall as he retreats, teasing out of you one inch at a time and your body betrays you when it pathetically clenches around the emptiness he leaves in his wake. You feel hollow and bereft, hating the way you quietly beg inside your head to feel him stretching you out again. He answers your silent request, easing back inside you until he’s buried up to the hilt.

The hard lines of his hips press firm against your ass before he’s pulling out and slamming his way home with a loud hiss interspersed with a grunt. It hurts the way he fucks you— merciless and rough, the wet slaps of your cunt making your cheeks heat with shame.

“Look at you lettin’ me in, just like I knew you would,” Steve huffs deeply in your ear in the midst of a hard thrust. “Do I still feel like a brother to you now? Would a brother fuck you this good, huh?”

“You’re sick,” you croak, voice breaking off into a moan.

He laughs, moving his arm from the back of your neck and hurriedly slips it around your throat, forcing your head backwards. The new position involuntarily manipulates your back to arch as your ass pushes against Steve’s pelvis, making his cock slip further into the depths of your fucked-out pussy.

Heat curdles your stomach as the familiar wave of bliss begins to tighten in your core. You try to think of mundane things— the stack of dishes still in the sink, the mountain of laundry you promised you’d do two days ago, the bills waiting to be paid tomorrow— and for a brief moment, it seems to help until the weight of Steve’s thrusts cut through the banality of your thoughts, and all you can think about is the rising warmth in your pussy along with the ripples of delight that are threatening to consume you.

Dishes, laundry, bills, dishes, laund—

You fold like a stack of cards as the orgasm you’ve been trying to hold off washes over you, and Steve’s constant praise becomes the distorted soundtrack to your rhapsody.

“Oh that’s my good girl,” he mutters into your hairline. “Coming so hard for me.”

Steve kisses your temple, teeth grazing your skin as a litany of sudden apologies and pathetic excuses are breathed against your cheek. “I’m so sorry, but you’re doing so well. I couldn’t help myself, I just love you so much. I promise I’ll pull out, but you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock. Oh fuck, I can’t stop.”

Terror fills your chest as realisation hits and you thrash around, hands pushing against his hips to try and get him to pull out but it’s too late— Steve is coming inside you, hot and impossibly deep.

Tears warm your skin as they trickle down your face, disgust rife in your veins as you feel his cum dribbling out around his still rock-hard erection. He releases his hold from around your neck and your head slumps back against the wall, your wet cheek sore as the plaster aggravates the tenderness of your raw skin.

He invades your personal space yet again, kissing his way down to the juncture of your neck as he pulls out, the heat of his cock leaving you cold and empty. You hear and feel him tuck himself away before he’s encouraging you to turn around and face him. His cheeks are red from the exertion and his hair is no longer dripping from the rain, but damp blonde strands hang into his cerulean eyes. Steve no longer looks like the man you once considered a best friend, but a complete stranger. A man you’ve never met before. A monster hiding in plain sight.

“C’mon, how about we go upstairs and share the bed like we used to?” he asks you, voice soothing and kind as his eyes twinkle with innuendo. Steve strokes his knuckles down your cheek and the fragile, affectionate way he comforts you is somehow more terrifying than the brutal way he just raped you.

With a solemn nod, you agree, not having any fight left in you to say no.

“That’s my girl,” he says, looping his arm around your neck to guide you toward the stairs. “I promise I’ll make us pancakes in the morning.” The familiar and sweet kiss he delivers to your temple seems so casual. It holds the same sentiment of the thousand kisses you’ve placed on his head, the one that used to tell him you were just friends. It was a charitable kiss you felt you had to give to keep him in your good books, but now you’re not so sure that's a good place to be.

***

ALL CE: @buckymydarlingangel @broadwaybabe18 @captain-asguard @chamberofsloths @cevansgurl @dreamlessinparis @deanwinchesterswitch @fandom-princess-forevermore @hurricanerin @jvstjewels @la-cey-blog @ladybug05 @livstilinski @ladydmalfoy @mugi-chwan95 @navybrat817 @otomefromtheheart @oneoftheprettynerds @patzammit @rebel-stardust @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @sammykb1994 @syrenavenger @straywords @saiyanprincessswanie @sunwardsss @selfsun @threeminutesoflife @vicmc624 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @xoxonotme

4EVS: @amira88 @andreasworlsboring101 @b3autyfuldisast3r @cheesyclaire @dangertoozmanykids101 @daughterofthenight117 @dandywinchesterbras @deangirl93 @doozywoozy @foxyjwls007 @geekofmanyforms @heyyouwiththeassbutt @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @ilovefanfic86 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @letsby @letsdisneythings @mogaruke @maliburenee @notyourtypicalrose @nik2write @obsessivelycapricious @patrick-hockslutter @princessmisery666 @phildunphyisadilf @roxyfan14-blog @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @simpformarvelmenandwoman @smokeandnailz @stoneyggirl @stoneyggirl2 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @thegirlnextdoorssister @unfortunate-brat @warriorqueen1991 @xoxabs88xox

#steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers x reader

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mur-art · 3 months

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Oooo, you have Jefferson hcs? I'd love to hear them if you're comfortable with that (not forced)

I definitely haven’t thought about this too much /s

TL;DR I feel like he’d be a great one-off character for the Table purely for comedic value. Dude is pathetic and his antics and attempts to convince others of his legitimate (totally legitimate, he swears) statehood would be hilarious.

Some art and HCs under the cut.

@freshwolfhell has lots of good Jeff HCs as well! A lot of these are the results of our discussions!

TW Discussion of weed (ofc) and other drugs

I forgot if I posted this one or not; again, credit to @freshwolfhell for inspiring this silly comic.

-As the comic above implies, Jeff is sometimes the definition of political “horseshoe theory”; coming to agree with certain progressive/liberal values not because he understands them or agrees with them, but for his own completely unhinged reasons.

-Dude smokes so much weed. He’s just constantly surrounded by a haze. He also struggles with addictions to some harder drugs.

-He’s a hardcore conspiracy theorist. There aren’t many conspiracy theories he DOESN’T believe in, even ones that seemingly contradict each other.

-He lives in an RV deep in the forest. The RV is covered in moss and hasn’t been moved in at least 20 years. It’s at the end of a dirt road that’s impassable when it rains. He rarely leaves, but when he does, he drives an old beat up Subaru with a hundred somewhat contradictory political bumper stickers.

-He managed to rig up a setup for TV and shitty internet, but he’s very much stuck in the past technology-wise. He still rents DVDs and listens to the radio. His favorite pastime is listening to true crime or conspiracy podcasts, and/or watching news stories about how much California sucks.

-He may or may not frequently get mistaken for some type of cryptid.

-He used to work in the logging industry and he feels a lot of resentment at California and the “environmentalists,” who, in his opinion, ruined his life by lobbying against the industry, leading to the downfall of so many of “his” towns and plunging him into poverty. He’s extremely bitter about this, as well as every other wrong (imagined or real) committed by California and Oregon against him. (Just like California) He keeps receipts. He writes down everything in a journal, and takes it with him everywhere.

-He lets his resentment and anger control him. Instead of trying to better his own situation or trying to get along with others, he places the blame for his own failures on everyone else.

-A lot of his resentment and anger is (perhaps misplaced) jealousy. Of California. Of the other cities and regions of California who have (in his mind) everything he never had. Of the other states, who are recognized as such and the honor that brings. Of course he’d never admit this.

-He’s convinced in his own mind that he’s a real state, and has been for decades, and that everyone else is actively conspiring to hide that fact.

-In an attempt to to gain support, he’s gone to the other “misfits” in the nation like Puerto Rico, Hawai’i, and Maryland. Each attempt has backfired spectacularly, as he’s not exactly culturally or racially aware, and ended up saying some offensive shit to them.

-He tries to call both California and Oregon every Thursday to remind them that he’s a state, but they’ve long since blocked him on every form of communication. So he’s gone back to writing letters. They’re long-winded, filled with spelling errors, and list (in great detail) every grievance that Jeff has with both of them. He never gets a response, but he continues to send them.

-He also writes letters to various other California and Oregon cities— nasty, threatening letters if he hates them (San Francisco) or vague attempts to make friends if he likes/admires them (Bakersfield).

-He has a whole ass arsenal of guns. He is absolutely NOT a responsible gun owner. He should probably not be trusted with any type of weapon, not even a kitchen knife.

-He’s a self-proclaimed “survivalist.” He knows how to forage for food and he does eat a lot of wild blackberries and fish he caught himself. However, all the ramen and candy he eats on a regular basis might be hard to find during the apocalypse…

In conclusion, he (not California, as he claims) is his own worst enemy. He lets his legitimate feelings of betrayal and isolation burn out of control and rule his life. He’s lonely and bitter and he’s constantly seeking the kind of validation he never receives.

Also, here’s a playlist for this asshole. Mostly just vibes.

#wttt oc #wttt Jefferson #mur art #mur headcanons #I don’t think about this much at all /s #TLDR he’s an asshole #pathetic wet cat but not in a /pos way

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possumcollege · 5 months

Text

Racists love old shit because they imagine history as a series of wins for the Correct People instead of generation after generation of opportunists just sweeping their accumulated wealth into progressively taller houses.

Those same shitheads build "empires" because there's a point where it becomes cheaper to pay a bunch of people to do violence on their behalf than it is to entomb themselves in walls strong enough to keep out an entire world of people poorer than they are.

And for the most part, it works because your average person's tolerance for pain and violence is pretty low as long as they can eat and sleep out of the rain.

So in a sense the greatest shitbirds in the world thrive on an overabundance of human kindness mercy, and lower-level greed. That doesn't make them smarter or stronger than anyone but it does make them monstrous fucking parasites.

Maybe that's Traditional Human Politics.

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pompadourpink · 1 year

Text

Les temps du présent

Le présent de l'indicatif/présent simple

The indicative present is used to

describe what one is currently doing (présent d'énonciation): je travaille - I'm working (as we speak)

describe a fact (présent de vérité générale/historique): les chats sont des animaux - cats are animals

describe an ongoing fact that started in the past (présent duratif): il pleut depuis hier - It's been raining since yesterday

describe the scene (présent de description): le soleil est caché aujourd'hui - the sun is hiding today

describe a habit (présent d'habitude): je cours tous les dimanches - I run every sunday

describe what just happened (présent de passé proche): je viens d'arriver - I just got there

describe what is about to happen (présent de futur proche): je suis là dans une minute - I'll be there in a minute

give an order (présent d'injonction), alternative to the imperative present: tu rentres tout de suite ! - You get home immediately!

make a story feel real (présent de narration): il y a six ans déjà que mon ami s'en est allé avec son mouton. Si j'essaie ici de le décrire, c'est afin de ne pas l'oublier. - It has been six years since my friend left with his sheep. If I try to describe him here, it is so that I will not forget him. (Le Petit Prince)

express a possibility (présent d'hypothèse): si tu es gentil, tu auras un cadeau - if you're kind, you'll get a present

La conjugaison

First group (-er except Aller): je marche, tu marches, il/elle/on marche, nous marchons, vous marchez, ils/elles marchent

Second group (-ir with -iss- in the plural forms): je finis, tu finis, il/elle/on finit, nous finissons, vous finissez, ils/elles finissent

Third group (everything else): typically je cours, tu cours, il court, nous courons, vous courez, ils courent; long -oir verbs: je veux, tu veux, il veut, nous voulons, vous voulez, ils veulent; -indre/-soudre verbs: -s, -s, -t, -ons, -ez, -ent; other -dre verbs: -ds, -ds, -d, -dons, -dez, -dent; -ttre: -ts, -ts, -t, -tons, -tez, -tent; -rir, -llir: -e, -es, -e, -ons, -ez, -ent

Auxiliaries: je suis, tu es, il est, nous sommes, vous êtes, ils sont + j'ai, tu as, il a, nous avons, vous avez, ils ont

N.B. Many third-group verbs are irregular because they used to be two different verbs (ex: Être comes from both Essere - to be and Stare - to stand) that eventually became one and consequently have two bases and can have up to five stems. Always double-check for different, stems, extra letters, accents, etc.

Notable exceptions:

A vowel -i- cannot be between two other vowels in the first and second person plural so it will turn into -y- (vous croyez, nous voyons)

In -cer and -ger verbs, the first person plural changes to allow for the correct pronunciation (nous lançons, nous mangeons); c > ç, go > geo.

In -aître verbs, only the third person singular keeps the accent (elle naît).

Le présent progressif

The progressive present is an emphasized version of the enunciation present and is therefore used to describe an ongoing action that started recently and is actively being done as the narrator is speaking.

It is built by putting together the subject, the verb Être conjugated in the indicative present tense, the adverbial locution "en train de" (in the progress of), the infinitive form of the verb of action, and possibly an object.

Je suis en train de manger, j'ai bientôt fini - I'm eating, I'm almost done

Est-ce que tu es en train de travailler? - are you working?

Nous sommes en train de faire nos devoirs - we are doing homework

Le conditionnel présent

The present conditional is used

to express a wish: j'aimerais retourner en Italie - I'd love to go back to Italy

a suggestion: tu devrais partir tôt - you should leave early

a hypothesis: il pourrait rentrer demain - he could come home tomorrow

to casually share one's opinion: je n'aimerais pas qu'on me dise ça ! - I wouldn't like it if someone told me that (can be a way to aggravate a situation)

to ask something politely: je voudrais un café - I'd like a coffee

to refer to the future in the past: elle a dit qu'elle arriverait tard - she said she'd arrive late

La conjugaison

Conjugating the present conditional is easy for the first two verbal groups: just add the terminations to the infinitive of the verb. If the verb ends in -e, remove it: prendre > je prendrais. Fun fact: you can build the imperfect tense by removing -er- for the first group and turning -ir- into -iss- for the second.

First group (-er except Aller): je marcherais, tu marcherais, il marcherait, nous marcherions, vous marcheriez, ils marcheraient

Second group (-ir with -iss- in the plural forms): je finirais, tu finirais, il finirait, nous finirions, vous finiriez, ils finiraient

Third group (everything else): typically: je courrais, tu courrais, il courrait, nous courrions, vous courriez, ils courraient; auxiliaries: je serais, tu serais, il serait, nous serions, vous seriez, ils seraient + j'aurais, tu aurais, il aurait, nous aurions, vous auriez, ils auraient

Main irregular verbs: auxiliaries + aller - j'irais, devoir - je devrais, pouvoir - je pourrais, recevoir - je recevrais, savoir - je saurais, tenir - je tiendrais, venir - je viendrais, voir - je verrais, vouloir - je voudrais

N.B. Make sure to not mix it up with the simple future tense, they're similar!

L'impératif présent

The present imperative mood can only be conjugated in the second person singular and the first and second person plural. It is used

to give an order: viens ici tout de suite - come here right now

a suggestion: appelle-le tout de suite, non ? - maybe call him now?

a plea: s'il te plaît, pardonne-moi ! - please, forgive me

to ban someone from doing something: ne touche pas à ça ! - do not touch that

La conjugaison

Warning: it often looks like the indicative present - without a subject. If so, in the second person singular, the verb will require a final -s only if the current final letter is a consonant. Certain verbs cannot be conjugated, like vouloir.

être: sois, soyons, soyez; avoir: aie, ayons, ayez

va, allons, allez; finis, finissons, finissez; marche, marchons, marchez

N.B. Pronouns can be added: a reflexive verb will come with a tonic pronoun and a dash in a positive sentence: Lave-toi !, and a direct object pronoun in a negative sentence: Ne te vexe pas !; when referring to a portion -en: Prends-en un peu ! (an -s will be added for the liaison to be possible), and to a place, -y: Vas-y !

L'infinitif présent

is the neutral form you find in dictionaries: courir, marcher, prendre

is found after prepositions À, De, Pour and Sans: c’est sans dire, viens à la maison pour dîner !, on part sans perdre de temps

is found after a conjugated verb: il voulait partir tôt (the second verb can be the first element of the sentence: courir nous fatigue)

expresses an order, advice, prohibition: frapper avant d’entrer

expresses anger, surprise or a wish: m'excuser, moi ? plutôt mourir !

expresses doubt in an interrogative sentence: que faire de ce garçon ?

Le participe présent

The present participle works like an adverb and either expresses an action that happens at the same time as another action, that is possibly the consequence of that action, or describes the subject. It is built by removing the termination of the verb and replacing it by -ant.

Les employés possédant une voiture peuvent se garer dans la rue - the employees who own a car can park in the street

Étant déjà en retard, je décide de courir - being already late, I decide to run

N.B. To get the right pronunciation or avoid a mix-up with an adjective, it can be necessary to modify or add letters when building the present participle. For example: convaincre > convainquant (as convaincant is the adjective), diverger > divergeant ([ʒ], as divergant would be a [g] sound).

Movie: La Piscine - Jacques Deray, 1969

#temps #basique #conjugaison

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shiningwonderland · 2 months

Text

Ai Mikaze (All Star)

Translator: Nadie (twitter: NmoniaG)

Proofreader: Raine (twitter: amagiyas)

Editor: Noemi (twitter: dreaminbeyond)

Chapter 6 - Gondola at Dusk

After undergoing maintenance, Mikaze-senpai returned to his work.

Filming for the movie also resumed after its long break, and at the end of February, everyone was working hard to wrap up the shooting.

Most of my time in February was taken up finishing jobs that had accumulated over the holiday season.

However, I’m also managing some of Senpai’s events to accompany him to his work.

The reason doesn't really matter. As long as I can be by his side, I’m happy.

Ai Mikaze: Why are you grinning like that? Are you making good progress?

Haruka Nanami: Uwah?! Oh, sorry, I’m on it.

I suddenly realize that Senpai’s standing there holding a cup of coffee in his hand.

Ai Mikaze: Don’t "Oh!" me. You know it’s not good to space out during work. Did you upload the BGM score?

It’s March 1st. Filming will continue in the afternoon.

Until then, I will use this short time to get the BGM checked.

Ai Mikaze: Really… pull yourself together. Here, take this. I won’t drink it, but if you don’t keep yourself awake you’ll keep spacing out.

He puts the cup of coffee on the table with a sigh.

Haruka Nanami: Ahh—sorry! You even made me coffee….

Ai Mikaze: It’s alright, just drink it! You're the only one who gets this special treatment from me.

He says while deliberately adding milk to the cup.

Haruka Nanami: Okay….

His way of speaking seems a bit frank but that’s just like him so it makes me happy.

However, our time together like this is limited.

He takes a look at the BGM score I hand him.

Ai Mikaze: Mhm, it’s nice. Your songs are just like you…. I can feel some sort of kindness in them.

After cutting himself off from Aine-san, Mikaze-senpai became even more like a human being.

In exchange for a deadline, he received the treasure of “free emotions.”

I have to create a song for the Song Festival that shows that freedom to its fullest.

Haruka Nanami: Thank you very much. I’ll also do my best for the Song Festival!

"Mhm," he adds with a nod and looks at my face as I put the coffee cup to my lips.

It’s afternoon when we arrive at the filming location.

Reiji Kotobuki: Heyah—! Ai-Ai, Kouhai-chan! Long time no see—♪

Kotobuki-senpai rushes towards us.

Haruka Nanami: Oh, Kotobuki-senpai! Um, thanks for the other day….

Ai Mikaze: The other day?

Mikaze-senpai eyes me with a suspicious look as I bow politely.

Haruka Nanami: Ah—No, it’s…!

Reiji Kotobuki: Come on, don’t give us that scary look! She only came to ask for some advice. Dear me~ You really shouldn’t worry our little Kouhai-chan so much ☆

Ai Mikaze: Huh? Er, okay….

Reiji Kotobuki: Anyways, I’m glad that you’re feeling better now! On that topic—why is it that you never reply to my messages, Ai-Ai?!

Ai Mikaze: Because your messages are too long! There are so many special characters that they make it hard to read. As a result, I can't even tell which parts of your messages are important.

Reiji Kotobuki: On the other hand, yours are way too short! When I finally get a reply it’s mostly just single words like “Okay” or “No”!

Ai Mikaze: I mean, there's no reason to write more than that….

I puff up my cheeks.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen these two talk to each other on set. They seem to have a good time.

Their conversation ends and Mikaze-senpai gets ready on standby.

Reiji Kotobuki: Kouhai-chaaan, can I have a moment?

Kotobuki-senpai seems to be beckoning me to a corner of the filming set.

Haruka Nanami: What is it?

Heading his way, Kotobuki-senpai makes a shushing gesture.

Reiji Kotobuki: Do you know what day it is today?

Select the phrase!

ホワイトデー White Day (+0)

Haruka Nanami: White Day! No, that can’t be right.

Reiji Kotobuki: Nonono, you must be kidding! March has just begun! It’s the 1st!

Haruka Nanami: Huh… the 1st, so…. No way….

Reiji Kotobuki: Eh, what? Could it be that you just remembered?

Haruka Nanami: Isn’t today… Mikaze-senpai’s birthday?

Kotobuki-senpai hangs his head, crestfallen.

⁂

誕生日 Birthday (+15)

Haruka Nanami: Of course! March 1st is Mikaze-senpai’s birthday!

Kotobuki-senpai claps.

Reiji Kotobuki: Right, correct answer~! Heeere, since Kouhai-chan answered correctly, you win this Super Nice Guy Doll!

Haruka Nanami: Oh, this doll, I’ve seen it on some kind of quiz show before.

… But anyway, it’s today?

Haruka Nanami: It’s his birthday… but….

Because of all that happened last month, I completely forgot to prepare something for it.

Reiji Kotobuki: My? Could this air be the “I’m-not-prepared-at-all” mood?

Haruka Nanami: S-sorry…. I've been so caught up in the hustle and bustle recently….

⁂

撮影の日 Day of the filming (+10)

Haruka Nanami: It’s the day of the filming?

Reiji Kotobuki: That’s true. Yeah, that it is. No doubt about it.

—As if!! Aren’t you forgetting something more important about this day?!

Haruka Nanami: Ah! March 1st…. Today is Mikaze-senpai’s birthday?!

Reiji Kotobuki: Oh man, pull yourself together, partner!

I slap my cheeks, throwing Kotobuki-senpai off.

⁂

Haruka Nanami: No way, so it’s today….

Reiji Kotobuki: Correct! Today’s Ai-Ai’s birthday. So I thought maybe we should all celebrate it together, as a surprise~?

Kotobuki-senpai says cheerfully.

Reiji Kotobuki: —And then I thought, everyone on set should give him a present, but what present would he like?

Something that Mikaze-senpai would like….

Select the phrase!

メッセージカード A message card (+15)

Haruka Nanami: How about a card with messages from everyone? He can enjoy it whenever he looks at it.

Reiji Kotobuki: I see, I see. In that case I’ll fill the card to the fullest with all my heart!

Haruka Nanami: T-then it won’t be a team effort anymore!!

Kotobuki-senpai gives a hearty laugh.

Messages from everyone…. Can I also write something on it? I think I will.

⁂

記念撮影 A commemorative picture (+10)

Haruka Nanami: In that case, what about a photo with everyone for commemoration….

Reiji Kotobuki: Oh, sounds good! There happens to be a photographer here today. I’ll ask them to take a professional photo!

Haruka Nanami: Okay!

After it’s shot I can put it in a frame and give it to him as a present.

Kotobuki-senpai wastes no time and calls out to the photographer.

⁂

手作りケーキ Handmade cake (+0)

Reiji Kotobuki: What? Right now?! Er, if we buy the ingredients we could probably decorate it with everyone's help… maybe?

Haruka Nanami: Right…. Oh, er—

Mikaze-senpai isn’t really fond of food to begin with, so it wasn't the best suggestion.

Haruka Nanami: It really is too sudden to start now. We’d have to leave the set for it too…. Should I get some flowers?

We end up discussing what kind of bouquet to get for Mikaze-senpai.

⁂

Reiji Kotobuki: Alright, I’ll leave the shopping to you! Get on your way and be careful!

“Here are your war funds!” He hands me a coin purse with a salute.

Haruka Nanami: Oh—Okay! I’ll be on my way!

I hurriedly return his salute.

Since the consultation is over, I run to the nearest main road to go shopping.

Let’s buy the things Kotobuki-senpai asked for, as well as some party poppers and all the party goods I can think of!

Haruka Nanami: This much should be fine…. Ah, that’s right!

Noticing a general store, I head inside.

I should also give Senpai a present for his birthday.

For this one, I pull out my own purse and look around the store.

What should I get….

Select the phrase!

ピヨちゃんの時計 Piyo-chan clock (+0)

I reach for the Piyo-chan alarm clock.

The alarm sound coming from the yellow device imitates Piyo-chan.

Haruka Nanami: Hmm… I think that’s a little too cute.

Shinomiya-san, who loves Piyo-chan, would have liked this. However, I can’t even imagine Mikaze-senpai waking up to this.

I look around the shop. There has to be something else.

⁂

海の写真集 Ocean photo book (+20)

I grab an ocean themed photo book.

One photo shows a sea’s coral reef in its rich colors.

Haruka Nanami: It’s beautiful, but I want to find something that’ll be easier to carry around.

I look around the shop.

⁂

マフラー Scarf (+15)

I grab a white scarf.

Haruka Nanami: That’s right, Senpai gave me a scarf for christmas.

However, it’ll be spring soon. So giving him a scarf now would be….

Hoping to find something better, I look around some more.

⁂

I come to a stop at the accessory corner.

My eyes land on a bangle and I reach out for it.

The silver bangle in my hand is slim with a simple design. It's inlaid with what appear to be natural blue stones.

There’s a small sign next to it.

“An accessory, adorned with the birthstone for march: aquamarine. Aquamarine is also called ‘mermaid tears’.”

I haven't seen Senpai wear accessories in private before but….

Haruka Nanami: This would suit him.

Deciding to wrap it myself, I go to the wrapping corner to prepare his present.

After buying everything I need, I prepare to head back to the filming location when I suddenly notice a familiar face walking towards me.

His white coat stands out on the city streets.

Haruka Nanami: Professor…. Why are you here…?

Professor: Just by chance. No need to be so wary.

Before me stands the professor.

This is my first time seeing him since the day Mikaze-senpai collapsed.

Could he be staying near Mikaze-senpai because he’s worried about him?

Haruka Nanami: Uhm… how is Aine-san?

Professor: He's still asleep. Even after all that, his condition hasn't changed and he's still stable.

Although their connection was cut, Aine-san continued to sleep.

“Is this for the best?” That thought slips my mind.

Professor: Hey now, don’t give me the long face. We can be happy about this outcome.

Haruka Nanami: Huh…?

Professor: Ai told me that we don’t have to force Aine to wake up. He should have the strength to wake up by himself.

He said: “What else can we do but believe in his strength?”—Can’t believe Ai was the one to tell me something like that.

Haruka Nanami: …Mikaze-senpai told me that he met Aine-san.

“Seems like it.” The professor says with a nod.

Professor: For humans, there are times when they want to run away and times when they want to rest.

I became so desperate in my deed to save Aine, I never thought about everyone else’s feelings.

I hurt Aine, Ai, and also you. For that, I’m sorry.

Everyone’s feelings….

Haruka Nanami: But… I believe that having someone who is waiting for you must be a truly wonderful thing.

You wanted to help wake Aine-san, and I don’t think that those feelings were futile.

So please, just wait for him.

He nods silently.

Professor: About Ai, to be honest there is still nothing we can do. I can’t access his system.

Haruka Nanami: Oh… I see….

I clasp my hands together tightly.

Professor: However, I’ll keep trying until the very end. I’ll give it my all to save even a fragment of his memory! Hopefully, I can do that at least.

Haruka Nanami: …Please. I'm counting on you.

Professor: I also plan to let Aine hear your song for the Song Festival.

Haruka Nanami: Of course…. Mikaze-senpai and Aine-san seem to have made a promise with each other.

That’s what I tell him.

Shortly after, the professor leaves to continue his business.

Haruka Nanami: … Until the very end….

One day, that moment will come. Is there something I can do until then?

I check the time.

Haruka Nanami: Oh, it’s already this late!

I have to go back now or the filming will be over.

Haruka Nanami: Time sure passes quickly.

I start running back to the set.

Once the filming ends, Mikaze-senpai prepares to leave after thanking everyone. That’s when Kotobuki-senpai calls out to him in an attempt to hold him up.

Reiji Kotobuki: Whoa there, wait a minute—! Stay! Hey, stay! And now, everyone assemble!

He firmly grabs Mikaze-senpai by the collar.

Ai Mikaze: Wha—what? Stop it, Reiji…. Idiot, you're ruining my clothes!

Dragging him back on set, Kotobuki-senpai promptly gathers the staff members and actors together.

Reiji Kotobuki: Are you ready~? Well, well everyone, now together! Ready—go! Congratulations, Ai-Ai!!

At once, everyone cracks their party poppers as congratulatory words surround him from all sides.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Congratulations!

Syo Kurusu: Congratulations, Ai!

Shinomiya-san and Syo-kun who arrive later also crack open their poppers with great enthusiasm.

Ai Mikaze: Huh? Right, thank you. But what are we celebrating?

Mikaze-senpai looks at us with puzzled eyes.

Reiji Kotobuki: Oh, stahp it~! Today’s Ai-Ai’s birthday, no? Yet another year closer to adulthood. Whooo—! A merry occasion!!

Ai Mikaze: Uh… birthday…? A birthday celebration for me…?

Still being somewhat unsure, Mikaze-senpai looks at everyone around him.

Syo Kurusu: Don’t tell me…. Is this your first time celebrating your birthday?

Mikaze-senpai replies with a nod.

Whaaat?!—everyone exclaims in shock.

Ai Mikaze: I do have the knowledge about celebrating these but… I see… so my day of birth can be celebrated as well.

Senpai murmurs.

A Bavarian cake is placed on the table.

I bought it thinking that he might like something with some jelly on it.

Reiji Kotobuki: ‘Kay, now—without toppling the candles over, blow them out like whoo, whooo!

Ai Mikaze: “Whoo”? Uhm, how do I do it? Should I just blow them off by expelling the air through my lips?

Mimicking Kotobuki-senpai’s lip shape, I’ve rarely seen Mikaze-senpai this flustered.

Haruka Nanami: You got it! And now, you put out the flame on all the candles!

Everyone watches Mikaze-senpai.

Ai Mikaze: Err, this is somehow really embarrassing…. Uhm… whoo—?

Hesitantly, Mikaze-senpai puts out the candles on top of the cake.

Afterwards, we take a commemorative picture and hand him a message card with a small flower bouquet.

As a side show, we have Kotobuki-senpai parodying Mikaze-senpai, and for some reason he then asks Shinomiya-san and Syo-kun to do a comedy sketch together.

The party continues for a little while longer.

Standing in the center surrounded by everyone, Mikaze-senpai still seems a little confused, but a side of him also looks happy….

Hopefully, this will become a good memory for him.

I can’t help feeling a little saddened by these thoughts, however I try not to let it show.

Haruka Nanami: Senpai, is everything alright? You look troubled….

Ai Mikaze: It’s because of the parody that Reiji did of me. Am I… really always like that?

Haruka Nanami: Uhm, well….

We’re on our way home from the birthday party.

The parody that Kotobuki-senpai did of Senpai was indeed accurate down to his usual expressions, but it was a bit too exaggerated.

Ai Mikaze: And moreover, I couldn't laugh at Natsuki and Syo's comedy skit where neither one would make remarks at the other's absurd actions. More or less, it seemed like their act was about poking fun at Mikaze-senpai's skill in not reacting to people's silly behavior, but making a good comedy skit without any witty remarks is tough to pull off.

Haruka Nanami: You’re as strict as always, Senpai.

Ai Mikaze: Hehe, but it was fun! I was surprised when everyone suddenly congratulated me, but it made me happy.

Haruka Nanami: Thank goodness….

As I mumble, Mikaze-senpai looks at me briefly and smiles.

Haruka Nanami: Ah! That’s right! Senpai, I have a present for you!

We went to a nearby park and sat down on a bench.

I hand him a paper bag which he opens clumsily.

Ai Mikaze: This is… an accessory? A blue stone. It must be aquamarine, right?

He holds the bangle up against the park’s streetlight.

Haruka Nanami: That's right. Aquamarine is the birthstone for March, and they’re also called “mermaid tears.”

Ai Mikaze: Heh…. Doesn’t it fit me perfectly then? However, I don’t know how to put this on. Can you put it on for me? Please?

He holds his hand and the bangle out to me.

Haruka Nanami: Sure!

I put the bangle on his wrist.

The aquamarine stone and the silver of the bangle have a sparkling shine.

Ai Mikaze: Oh, it fits my wrist perfectly! It’s pretty…. Thank you, I will take good care of it.

He holds the bangle up in the park’s streetlight yet again and narrows his eyes.

I’m glad he likes it. But at the same time, an indescribable sadness overcomes me.

Just when the two of us are finally alone, why do these thoughts keep coming to mind?

Ai Mikaze: Listen…. I don’t want you to feel sad for me.

As if he had noticed my feelings, Senpai turns to face me.

Ai Mikaze: A lot has happened, but now I have people who celebrate my birthday and that makes me really happy.

Besides, seeing your sad expression is also painful for me. I know it’s not easy but… can you try smiling for me?

Haruka Nanami: Smiling….

Senpai smiles gently.

Ai Mikaze: Truthfully, leaving you also hurts me, but I will do it in such a way that you won’t feel sad. Because you see, I want you to remember my smile.

He gently holds his pinky out.

Ai Mikaze: A pinky promise. That’s what you do when you make a promise, right?

I nod. Then I entwined his slim pinky with my small pinky.

Ai Mikaze: Cross my heart I will not lie, or else I'll eat a needle pie. Pinky promise.

He chants the rhyme as if singing the words. The moment we let go of our pinkies, the bangle around his wrist jingles.

Ai Mikaze: Now it’s a promise! ….Hey, will you smile for me? I want to see your smiling face over and over again.

Haruka Nanami: Over and over, you say?

To my question, he only points to his head making a tapping gesture.

Ai Mikaze: Yes. I want to fill my remaining memory with your smiles.

I smile at him and then he softly pats my head.

From then on, neither of us brought up the topic of our eventual parting. Instead, we focused on the Song Festival and worked on our song together.

Today is finally the last day of filming.

With the ocean in the background, the mermaid prince wishes for the heroine’s happiness and offers her a song. This is the scene where he turns into foam and disappears.

Their first encounter was also at this ocean.

The now grown-up heroine has lost her eyesight due to an accident. She can no longer see the prince, who has lost his voice.

She’s talking about the most beautiful times of her life.

Like the fateful encounter she had at this beach. That day, the heroine’s and mermaid prince’s hearts connected in song.

Halfway through her story, it becomes a monologue.

“I want to hear the song from that time,” she says. Wanting to make her happy, he starts singing with all his heart.

As soon as he uses his voice, he’s fated to disappear into foam. In spite of that, he continues to sing.

Kotobuki-senpai came to watch Mikaze-senpai’s acting.

Reiji Kotobuki: Man, he’s changed…. Amazing. He’s like a totally different person.

Kotobuki-senpai mutters to himself.

Haruka Nanami: You're right. But now it's all coming to an end….

Kotobuki-senpai nods in agreement.

Reiji Kotobuki: You know, when you mentioned Aine that one time I was really shocked. What if Kouhai-chan met him somewhere? That thought crossed my mind.

Haruka Nanami: Huh…?

Reiji Kotobuki: I want to believe that he’s still alive somewhere. And for whatever reason, he hasn't come back. It’s better to think that way…. It puts my mind at ease.

Haruka Nanami: …Do you have regrets?

Reiji Kotobuki: I do. If there’s one thing that I regret, then it’d be the fact that I couldn’t have a proper conversation with him before he left. After all, he vanished so suddenly.

With that said, Kotobuki-senpai turns back to Mikaze-senpai.

Reiji Kotobuki: To be honest, a part of me started seeing resemblances between the two of them.

But Ai-Ai is strong. On the other hand, since he’s strong there are still things to worry about. I just don’t want what happened once to repeat itself all over again.

He should be more like me and learn to loosen up. There are way too many dangerous guys out there.

“A whole army of them,” he adds and laughs bitterly.

Reiji Kotobuki: Hey, Kouhai-chan. No matter what, be willing to listen to him, okay?

Haruka Nanami: ….

Reiji Kotobuki: If something happens, he probably won’t come and tell me. I don’t believe I’d have the confidence to face him then either.

I’m not in a position to say this, but if it’s Kouhai-chan then you’ll be fine.

If by some chance he tells you that he’s going somewhere, can you see him off properly? Since I was never able to do so.

Haruka Nanami: Kotobuki-senpai….

Reiji Kotobuki: Ahaha. Sorry for the weird conversation. A new chapter starts for Ai-Ai today. We’ll finish filming soon.

My~ The filming took a long time, but it was fun!

Kotobuki-senpai laughs and the last scene ends.

Director: Cut!! …Good, OK!!

Upon hearing the director’s last words, applause erupts all around.

Ai Mikaze: Everyone…. Thank you very much for everything!!

The applause gets significantly louder as he bows.

All the co-actors gather around Mikaze-senpai.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Good job, Ai-chan! You were wonderful!

Syo Kurusu: Somehow I… I was really touched.

His eyes are red-rimmed from crying, and he quickly wipes them with his sleeve.

Reiji Kotobuki: Good job on your first main role—! My, isn’t this already the face of a real actor? Is there hope for your next work?

Ai Mikaze: That’s too hasty! Really now…. But… thank you.

Mikaze-senpai smiles as he takes a bouquet from Kotobuki-senpai.

Ai Mikaze: I really mean it… thank you for everything!

He faces the co-actors and staff members before bowing deeply.

The filming was finished, and by the time everything had been packed up the day was already coming to an end.

The Ferris wheel gondolas were lightly rising into the evening sky.

That’s where I discovered Mikaze-senpai’s secret last year.

We both look up at the Ferris wheel.

Ai Mikaze: Let’s take a ride on it before going home. I want to see the scenery from up there once again. Only if you’re not scared, of course.

Haruka Nanami: It’s not scary anymore! After all, I have you by my side.

We both laugh.

Ai Mikaze: Well, it’s not as cold as it was last year, and even if it does stop, I’ll stay by your side again all night.

Haruka Nanami: Huh?! T-that’s….

He flashes a mischievous smile, standing in front of the Ferris wheel.

Ai Mikaze: Come on, shall we? We have more than enough time today.

He takes my hand and runs ahead.

We take off on the Ferris wheel and it feels as if we’re floating to the stars.

This time we’re sitting next to each other. He’s still holding my hand, and it feels warm and pleasant.

We can see the light displays shining on the shore across the water.

Ai Mikaze: I wonder what happened afterwards.

Senpai mutters to himself while looking at the lights.

Haruka Nanami: …After what?

Ai Mikaze: I’m talking about the movie. I wonder what the heroine did after the mermaid prince disappeared?

They didn’t continue the story after that. However, I think the heroine continued to live alone after the prince’s disappearance….

They don’t reveal what happens after the prince disappears and leave it up to the viewer’s imagination.

SELECT THE PHRASE!

わかりません I don’t know (+0)

Haruka Nanami: I don’t know….

But… I think the emotions she felt in those happy moments will stay in her heart forever.

⁂

思い出と共に生きていくShe keeps on living with their memories (+20)

Haruka Nanami: I’m sure that he was able to reach her through his song and his prayer for her happiness.

Over time, her memory will fade. Of his face, his voice…. She might even forget him one day.

Only the feelings from those fleeting moments of happiness might remain in her heart forever.

⁂

悲しんだと思うI think she suffers (+10)

Haruka Nanami: I think she’ll suffer deeply. Just when she realized that he’s the one from that day, he disappears.

Senpai just mutters a silent “I see.”

⁂

Ai Mikaze: I wonder what will happen in our case.

The gondola steadily rises higher and higher.

The noise of the city fades away and silence takes over.

It’s so quiet that we could hear our breaths. In this silence, I'm drawn to the shared warmth of our linked hands.

Ai Mikaze: Listen… Haruka.

He tightens his grip on my hand slightly so I look over to him—

—and meet his eyes which are fixed on me.

Ai Mikaze: I've finally come to understand the feeling of liking—of loving someone.

It’s not just happiness when you’re together. Sometimes it’s tough, painful and suffocating but….

Just the thought of them alone warms your heart. That’s how powerful it is. It makes me a little proud of myself.

I love you, Haruka.

I finally got to understand this emotion—my treasure.

Senpai laughs happily.

Seeing his smile, my next words spill out naturally.

Haruka Nanami: I’m also in love with you, Mikaze-senpai! These feelings are also my treasure.

Ai Mikaze: …Thank you.

Senpai hugs me tightly.

Ai Mikaze: Robots don’t know love. So this is love. It took me a long time to realize that I’m in love.

No matter what happens from now on, the fact that I got to know such a wonderful feeling makes me so happy!

“I’m also really happy.”

Instead of answering with those words, I hug him tighter in response.

Communicating heart to heart—this moment is the happiest in the world. I want to feel it with my whole body.

Ai Mikaze: Can I… ask for something?

He whispers as we’re hugging in the lightly swaying gondola.

Haruka Nanami: …What is it?

Ai Mikaze: I might want… to kiss you. Can I?

SELECT THE PHRASE!

はい Yes (+30)

It’s very embarrassing, but if it’s with Mikaze-senpai then….

Haruka Nanami: Yes….

I answer relieved, casting my eyes down….

Ai Mikaze: Oh… I’m glad. Somehow I’m really happy. It makes my heart beat so fast.

⁂

きっ、キスですか？K-kiss? (+15)

Ai Mikaze: I mean, the one we shared previously in your kitchen was an accident…. It doesn’t count as a real kiss, so….

Bashfulness is mixed in with his words.

Haruka Nanami: T-that’s right…. So you remember.

Ai Mikaze: There’s no way I’d forget! I have an excellent memory after all. So, please…?

I nod without a word.

⁂

今ですか！？Now?! (+0)

I look up in surprise and see Senpai with a little pout on his face.

Ai Mikaze: But we even expressed our feelings with each other…. So can’t we…?

He tilts his head. Without saying a word, I nod in agreement.

⁂

Ai Mikaze: To be honest, I don’t know what to do but you don’t have to be nervous.

I can see Mikaze-senpai’s long eyelashes and his clear eyes right in front of me.

Ai Mikaze: Uhm, and also… can you close your eyes?

Haruka Nanami: Ah—okay!

I close my eyes tightly and can feel Senpai’s body heat.

The tip of his nose touches mine.

At that moment, it feels like time has stopped.

Haruka Nanami: …?

When I don't feel our lips touching at all, I slightly open my eyes again.

Ai Mikaze: You see, our noses… they bump into each other. What should I do?

Senpai is completely at a loss.

Haruka Nanami: Huh? I think you might have to try tilting your head a little?

Ai Mikaze: Tilting…. Uhm, like this? Oh, I see.

He nods several times perhaps in satisfaction.

Ai Mikaze: Sorry, let's try that again! I’ll do it right this time, so… close your eyes?

The fingers on our clasped hands intertwine and squeeze tightly.

Ai Mikaze: …Nh….

His lips gently touch mine.

Ai Mikaze: Hehe, it’s warm… nh….

As if to confirm the warmth, our lips part for an instant but then meet again.

It should be embarrassing, yet it makes me so happy, filling my whole heart.

After we part, Senpai exhales.

Ai Mikaze: Hah… I see…. This… was quite nice actually….

Haruka Nanami: S-senpai!!

He chuckles and curls my hair around his finger.

Ai Mikaze: I mean, that’s how I honestly felt. Being connected with you like that…. Hey… Haruka. Let’s do it again.

Haruka Nanami: Mm… mhh….

Since we aren’t kissing anymore, I feel so embarrassed that I cannot face him.

Ai Mikaze: No? Did you already get tired of it?

I reply by shaking my head to which Senpai smiles.

Ai Mikaze: Thank you. I’m glad that I fell in love with you…. I love you. Nh…

It’s a chilly night on a spring day.

Inside the gondola as it slowly descends to the ground, we share a kiss and bask in each other’s warmth.

In the days leading up to the Song Festival, whenever we had free time we went out together.

We would go to the cinema or go shopping in the mall…

…taking a walk and watching the flowers bloom along the road….

Such a trivial, daily life was pure happiness for me.

Even the time in which we worked on our song was important to us, and we were close to finishing it.

Today, Senpai called me into the studio.

For some reason, he asked me to prepare for a recording.

Once everything is ready, I call out to Senpai who is in the booth.

Haruka Nanami: Everything is set, Senpai. Can we record?

Senpai agrees with a nod. When the music is about to start, he….

Ai Mikaze: Hello, I’m Ai Mikaze.

Senpai steps up to the microphone.

Ai Mikaze: Today, I’d like to sing a song that my precious person made for me. Please listen to it.

Music Game S

Ai Mikaze: Thank goodness. I was finally able to sing it….

Once he finished singing, he mumbles to the microphone and then raises his head to look at me with a big smile.

He comes out of the booth.

Haruka Nanami: Senpai! That was so good!

As I run up to him, he embraces me and spins me around.

Ai Mikaze: Did the recording go well? I’ll give this song to you. It’s a special version just for you.

Haruka Nanami: Thank you!

Just like that, we completed our song for the Song Festival.

It’s the day of the Song Festival.

Rehearsal has finished, so we’re doing some final checks in the dressing room.

Haruka Nanami: …Hm? Come in!

Syo Kurusu: Yahoo—! We came to cheer you on!

I open the door and suddenly find Syo-kun and Shinomiya-san before me.

Haruka Nanami: Ooh, it’s you two! Thank you for coming!

Shinomiya-san takes my hand and swings it up and down.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Good morning! We watched the rehearsal! Both the song and the vocals were wonderful!

Syo Kurusu: Right! With that song, victory is certain!

Ai Mikaze: No, there’s still some room for improvement! I’ll give 100% on the real take.

I want to carefully express a sense of translucence and heartrending. I should be able to convey a variety of emotions.

Syo Kurusu: Ai… you….

After Mikaze-senpai found out about his time limit, he thought about it for a while and decided to tell those two right before the Song Festival.

“Since the two of them would be shocked if I were to suddenly disappear.”

That’s the thought he shared with me.

They were completely shocked, but once they calmed down they continued treating him like always.

Syo Kurusu: I get it… Ai, you’re already a real human.

Ai Mikaze: I can never become fully human. But that’s fine because I’m me. I’m Ai Mikaze.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Yes, that’s right! Ai-chan is Ai-chan and our dear senpai!!

Ai Mikaze: Geez, are you sure you got it?

“Of course~” Shinomiya-san replies with a smile.

Syo Kurusu: You seem to be in good physical condition, so that’s a relief. We’ll be cheering you on from the audience, so give it your best! ‘Kay?

Ai Mikaze: As my juniors, you don’t have to tell me that. I’ll do my best, so it’ll be fine.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Hehe, Ai-chan’s so cute when he‘s flustered. For Ai-chan’s victory, I’ll also support you. Like this~ huuug!!

Shinomiya-san hugs Mikaze-senpai tightly.

Ai Mikaze: Wait…! Natsuki! This isn’t really supporting anything!

Mikaze-senpai utters his complaint but stays in Shinomiya-san’s embrace.

I’m glad that these two came for a number of reasons.

Mikaze-senpai throws me an offended look.

Ai Mikaze: Geez, what are you grinning about? Look, the show is about to start. Syo, do something!

Mikaze-senpai points at Shinomiya-san who’s still hugging him.

Syo Kurusu: Roger! Hey, come on Natsuki, let’s go!!

Syo-kun tugs on Shinomiya-san’s arm.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Okay…. See you, Ai-chan….

Shinomiya-san reluctantly lets go of Mikaze-senpai.

Natsuki Shinomiya: I pray for Ai-chan’s feelings to reach everyone in the audience.

Ai Mikaze: Yes…. Thank you.

Syo Kurusu: Well then, see ya at the award ceremony! And you take care too!!

Natsuki Shinomiya: Bye-bye, Ai-chan. See you later.

They leave smiling with big, waving hand gestures.The door to the dressing room closes silently.

Soon afterwards, the curtains open signaling the start of the Song Festival.

Chapter End

#utapri #all star ai #ai mikaze

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digitaldoeslmk · 6 months

Text

By The Book AU Timeline

[this will be edited as things progress and the au gets more fleshed out]

less of a timeline and more the a brainstorm chart for the plotbeats i have so far

Prince > Little Sage > Pilgrim > Immortal

ACT 1, PRINCE: 2 years, S1 plus some of S2

ep0 special, MK becomes Monkie Kid

Fated Feast (tm) and dealing with it

MK learning how to use his powers

pretty much all the episodes of S1

Beijing Opera sideplot

first New Years is a Lion Dancing competition special

Macaque introduces himself

Spider Queens get exorcised, LBD reveal

Nezha and Muzha introduction

some more filler episodes of Monkie gang dealing with small easy stuff

MK gets invited to meet Guanyin

MK learning the Dao and Dharma, starts cultivation

Macaque causes trouble (basically Shadow Play ep but not), Wukong finds out

spicynoodles start becoming a thing late in the arc

S1 finale special, except it's LBD and some henchmen

Celestial Realm sightseeing moment, introduction to several immortals and gods

ACT 2, LITTLE SAGE: about half a year, part of S2 and a lot of changes

Red Son's investigation gets serious, Nezha is helping

Wukong gets more present to teach MK

most of what's left of S2, with some changes

Yingge and Longnü intro

Tang starts helping MK and Mei with magic

Mei starts training her dragon powers in FFM

Guanyin meets the Monkien gang, reveal of Tang's past reincarnations

MK gets deeper on training with his monkey form and powers

"recollections of red and blue" is set in this arc

DBK and PIF start making amends with Red Son

qpr chimera fully established, Red Son and MK get serious enough to tell their parents about it

more LBD shenanigans

S2 season finale, except not

LBD tries to trap him in a pagoda, everyone joins the fray, MK escapes because Macaque underestimates him, Wukong gets kebabed, Megapolis is lost and the gang flees for their lives

ACT 3, PILGRIM: about half a year, S3 in spirit but almost every plot gets scrapped cus its just filler anyway

they aren't on a ""journey to the west"", they are gathering allies and tools to use against LBD and Macaque

plan is, burn the motherfuckers with the Samadhi fire with the help of the four dragon king's armies to spread the fire with rain, and use some artifacts to then control the fire and put it out

drastic measure but it do be drastic times

LBD used the skeleton key to open the gates of the Diyu, so the world is slowly getting overrun by runaway spirits, as well as channeling the waters from it to freeze the land

apparently Macaque wants to consume every living thing he's trapped to fuel something, and nobody is sure what

anyway it's crisis politics time, nobody is having fun, everything sucks

time to check in with the past pilgrims for advice and some tricks they know, Monkie gang power up time

the dragon king of the north and his family are missing, time to find them

Shen Gongbao intro, he's involved but they figure it out

it's also time to draft some immortals, we love owing favors to people in this house amiright??

Mayor starts to think the henchman career isn't for him, time to dip

he fucks a plan cus he uses a pill of immortality to heal himself but oops the gang needed that

Mayor spills the beans on Macaque's plan, MK gets impulsive and runs off to face LBD

S3 special time except not

MK exchanges himself for the girl LBD got possessed, which builds the group time to wrap up lose ends

final battle time, hoards of the underworld versus whatever immortals got convinced to help despite going against the Jade Emperor's decree

MK sends a clone with his staff before he loses control back to the gang

Mei in dragon form fighting possessed MK, so that Red Son and Nezha can take a shot at MK to exorcise LBD out of him, Erlang and Muzha helping to hold Macaque back

MK gets shot with the Samadhi Fire, to explosive results

MK vs Macaque kaiju monkey battle time

Macaque gets nuked, LBD gets carbonized, Mayor dies saving people from the city before the fires get to them

everything is put back where it belongs, but there's a lot of loose ends to wrap up, ends in a bittersweet note

ACT 4, IMMORTAL: two years, S4 solely in name, basically a full overhaul lmao

oh man oh man shits gonna hit the fan lmao

the city is saved and the bad guys are gone; time for Consequences

Jade Emperor isnt very happy with the amount of unauthorized actions taken just now

MK goes to fucking trial for the crime of saving the world, it goes as well as one would think

luckily Guanyin comes in clutch and gets his sentence lightened to "community service"

there is an absurd amount of undead still walking around, which means MK has to get on that

also yknow. the devastating amount of damage in the mortal AND celestial realm

MK is given an assignment in the heavenly bureocracy, to help keep him in check and accountable to stuff. is great innit.

another part of his job is, dealing with Wukong's past sworn brotherhood cus they've been uppity since Macaque's attack and threatening to break the human-demon truce

Qi "two dads nuclear family" Xiaotian learns to deal with distant extended family relations with very specific social cues. again, goes as well as expected

under all that, Red Son still hasn't been able to get the missing memories situation fixed

also turns out even Wukong doesn't remember who MK was but he used to know. he doesn't anymore. and he doesn't know what happened. Red Son did not like learning that.

the celebration of Ulhambana in the Celestial Realm is approaching, and Red Son thinks he can get himself and MK invited to it so they can yknow, ask Buddha wtf is going on

so yknow, time to earn the trust of the Celestial Realm again, in a year. that's doable right? ahahah

and because he doesn't have enough on his plate, MK traded off a lot of his merits in exchange for LBD and Mayor speedrunning their time in hell so they can be reborn under his care

MK becomes An Uncle, what could possibly go wrong!

oh, jumpscare, Macaque is still around but Different

#lmk au #by the book au

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kp777 · 1 year

Text

By Thom Hartmann

Common Dreams

March 31, 2023

The Republican Party's most dangerous grift today has been their embrace of the lie that America is not a democracy but instead is a theocratic republic that should be ruled exclusively by armed Christian white men. It's leading us straight into the jaws of fascism.

Nobody ever accused Republicans of not knowing how to make a buck or BS-ing somebody into voting for them. Lying to people for economic or political gain is the very definition of a grift.

Whenever there’s another mass- or school-shooting, Republican politicians hustle out fundraising emails about how “Democrats are coming to take your guns!” The result is a measurable and profitable spike in gun sales after every new slaughter of our families and children, followed by a fresh burst of campaign cash to GOP lawmakers.

But the GOP’s ability to exploit any opportunity that comes along — regardless of its impact on America or American citizens — goes way beyond just fundraising hustles.

When Jared Kushner was underwater and nearly bankrupt because he overpaid for 666 Fifth Avenue and needed a billion-dollar bailout to cover his mortgage, his buddies in the Middle East (Saudi Arabia and the UAE) blockaded American ally (and host to the Fifth Fleet) Qatar until that country relented and laundered the money to Jared through a Canadian investment company.

Just this week, after Trump deregulated toxic trains leading to a horrible crash and the contamination of East Palestine, Ohio, Steve Bannon — already charged with multiple fraud-related crimes and then pardoned by Trump — showed up this week to hustle $300+ water filters to the people of that town.

The grift is at the core of the GOP’s existence, and has been since Nixon blew up LBJ’s peace talks with the Vietnamese in 1968 and then took cash bribes from the Milk Lobby and Jimmy Hoffa in the White House while having his mafia-connected “plumbers” wiretap the DNC’s offices at the Watergate.

— Republicans successfully fought the ability of Medicare to negotiate drug prices for decades; in turn, Big Pharma pours millions into their campaign coffers and personal pockets (legalized by 5 Republicans on the Supreme Court).

— Republicans beat back Democratic efforts to stop insurance giants from ripping off seniors and our government with George W. Bush’s Medicare Advantage privatization scam; in turn, the insurance companies rain cash on them like an Indian monsoon.

— Republicans oppose any effort to replace fossil fuels with green energy sources that don’t destroy our environment; in turn, the fossil fuel industry jacked up the price of gasoline into the stratosphere just in time for the 2022 election (and you can expect them to try it again in 2024).

— Republicans stopped enforcement of a century’s worth of anti-trust laws in 1983, wiping out America’s small businesses and turning rural city centers into ghost towns while pushing profits and prices through the ceiling; in turn massive corporate PACs fund ads supporting Republican candidates every election cycle.

— Republicans authored legislation letting billionaires own thousands of newspapers, radio stations, and TV outlets; in turn the vast majority of those papers (now half of all local papers are owned by a handful of rightwing New York hedge funds) and stations all run daily news and editorials attacking Democrats and supporting the GOP.

— Republicans Trump and Pai killed net neutrality so giant tech companies can legally spy on you and me, recording every website we visit and selling that information for billions; in turn, major social media sites amplify rightwing voices while giant search engines stopped spidering progressive news sites.

Newspeak — George Orwell’s term for the grift where politicians use fancy phrases that mean the opposite of what people think they mean — has been the GOP’s go-to strategy for a half-century.

Richard Nixon, for example, promised to crack down on drugs, but instead used that as an excuse to crack down on anti-war liberals and Black people. Instead of an economic grift, it was a political grift.

As Nixon‘s right hand man, John Ehrlichman, told reporter Dan Baum:

“You want to know what this was really all about? The Nixon campaign in 1968, and the Nixon White House after that, had two enemies: the antiwar left and Black people. Do you understand what I’m saying? “We knew we couldn’t make it illegal to be either against the war or Black, but by getting the public to associate the hippies with marijuana and Blacks with heroin and then criminalizing both heavily, we could disrupt those communities. “We could arrest their leaders, raid their homes, break up their meetings, and vilify them night after night on the evening news. “Did we know we were lying about the drugs? Of course we did.“

The grift is a recurrent theme through Republican presidencies in the modern era.

Ronald Reagan told us if we just destroyed America’s unions and moved our manufacturing to China and Mexico, great job opportunities would fill the nation.

He followed that up by promising if we just cut taxes on the morbidly rich, prosperity would trickle-down to the rest of us.

Reagan even assured us that raising the Social Security retirement age to 67 and taxing Social Security benefits would mean seniors could retire with greater ease.

All, of course, were grifter’s lies. Republican presidents since Reagan have continued the tradition.

George W. Bush called his program to make it easier to clear-cut America’s forests and rip roads through wilderness areas the “Healthy Forests Initiative.”

His program to legalize more pollution from coal-fired power plants and immunize them from community lawsuits (leading to tens of thousands of additional lung- and heart-disease deaths in the years since) was named the “Clean Air Act.”

Bush’s scam to “strengthen” Medicare — “Medicare Advantage” — was a thinly disguised plan to privatize that program that is today draining Medicare’s coffers while making insurance executives richer than Midas.

Donald Trump told Americans he had the coronavirus pandemic under control while he was actually making the situation far worse: America had more deaths per capita from the disease than any other developed country in the world, with The Lancet estimating a half-million Americans died needlessly because of Trump’s grift.

Jared and Ivanka cashed in on their time in the White House to the tune of billions, while Trump squeezed hundreds of millions out of foreign governments, encouraging them to illegally pay him through rentals in his properties around the world.

Other Trump grifts — most leading to grateful industries or billionaires helping him and the GOP out — included:

— Making workplaces less safe — Boosting religious schools at the expense of public schools — Cutting relief for students defrauded by student loan sharks — Shrinking the safety net by cutting $60 billion out of food stamps — Forcing workers to put in overtime without getting paid extra for it — Pouring more pollution from fossil fuels into our fragile atmosphere — Gutting the EPA’s science operation — Rescinding rules that protected workers at federal contract sites — Dialing back car air pollution emissions standards — Reducing legal immigration of skilled workers into the US from “shithole countries” — Blocking regulation of toxic chemicals — Rolling back rules on banks, setting up the crisis of 2023 — Defenestrating rules against racially segregated housing

While Nixon was simply corrupt — a crook, to use his own term — in 1978 when five Republicans on the Supreme Court signed off on the Bellotti decision authored by Lewis Powell himself, giving corporations the legal right to bribe American politicians, the GOP went all in.

Ever since then, the GOP has purely been the party of billionaires and giant corporations, although their most successful political grift has been to throw an occasional bone to racists, gun-nuts, fascists, homophobes, and woman-haters to get votes.

Democrats at that time were largely funded by the unions, so it wasn’t until the 1990s, after Reagan had destroyed about half of America’s union jobs and gutted the unions’ ability to fund campaigns, that the Democratic Party under Bill Clinton was forced to make a big turn toward taking corporate cash.

Since Barack Obama showed how online fundraising could replace corporate cash, however, about half of the nation’s Democratic politicians have aligned with the Progressive Caucus and eschewed corporate money, returning much of the Party to its FDR and Great Society base.

The GOP, in contrast, has never wavered from lapping up corporate money in exchange for tax cuts, deregulation, and corporate socialism.

Their most dangerous grift today, though, has been their embrace of the lie that America is not a democracy but instead is a theocratic republic that should be ruled exclusively by armed Christian white men. It’s leading us straight into the jaws of fascism.

Bannon’s grift in East Palestine is the smallest of the small, after his being busted for a multi-million-dollar fraud in the “Build the Wall” scheme and others, but is still emblematic of the Republican strategy at governance.

When all you have to offer the people is a hustle, then at the very least, Republicans figure, you should be able to make a buck or gain/keep political power while doing it.

#republicans #gop #grift #common dreams

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