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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months

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What kind of bubble is AI?

My latest column for Locus Magazine is "What Kind of Bubble is AI?" All economic bubbles are hugely destructive, but some of them leave behind wreckage that can be salvaged for useful purposes, while others leave nothing behind but ashes:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

Think about some 21st century bubbles. The dotcom bubble was a terrible tragedy, one that drained the coffers of pension funds and other institutional investors and wiped out retail investors who were gulled by Superbowl Ads. But there was a lot left behind after the dotcoms were wiped out: cheap servers, office furniture and space, but far more importantly, a generation of young people who'd been trained as web makers, leaving nontechnical degree programs to learn HTML, perl and python. This created a whole cohort of technologists from non-technical backgrounds, a first in technological history. Many of these people became the vanguard of a more inclusive and humane tech development movement, and they were able to make interesting and useful services and products in an environment where raw materials – compute, bandwidth, space and talent – were available at firesale prices.

Contrast this with the crypto bubble. It, too, destroyed the fortunes of institutional and individual investors through fraud and Superbowl Ads. It, too, lured in nontechnical people to learn esoteric disciplines at investor expense. But apart from a smattering of Rust programmers, the main residue of crypto is bad digital art and worse Austrian economics.

Or think of Worldcom vs Enron. Both bubbles were built on pure fraud, but Enron's fraud left nothing behind but a string of suspicious deaths. By contrast, Worldcom's fraud was a Big Store con that required laying a ton of fiber that is still in the ground to this day, and is being bought and used at pennies on the dollar.

AI is definitely a bubble. As I write in the column, if you fly into SFO and rent a car and drive north to San Francisco or south to Silicon Valley, every single billboard is advertising an "AI" startup, many of which are not even using anything that can be remotely characterized as AI. That's amazing, considering what a meaningless buzzword AI already is.

So which kind of bubble is AI? When it pops, will something useful be left behind, or will it go away altogether? To be sure, there's a legion of technologists who are learning Tensorflow and Pytorch. These nominally open source tools are bound, respectively, to Google and Facebook's AI environments:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/18/openwashing/#you-keep-using-that-word-i-do-not-think-it-means-what-you-think-it-means

But if those environments go away, those programming skills become a lot less useful. Live, large-scale Big Tech AI projects are shockingly expensive to run. Some of their costs are fixed – collecting, labeling and processing training data – but the running costs for each query are prodigious. There's a massive primary energy bill for the servers, a nearly as large energy bill for the chillers, and a titanic wage bill for the specialized technical staff involved.

Once investor subsidies dry up, will the real-world, non-hyperbolic applications for AI be enough to cover these running costs? AI applications can be plotted on a 2X2 grid whose axes are "value" (how much customers will pay for them) and "risk tolerance" (how perfect the product needs to be).

Charging teenaged D&D players $10 month for an image generator that creates epic illustrations of their characters fighting monsters is low value and very risk tolerant (teenagers aren't overly worried about six-fingered swordspeople with three pupils in each eye). Charging scammy spamfarms $500/month for a text generator that spits out dull, search-algorithm-pleasing narratives to appear over recipes is likewise low-value and highly risk tolerant (your customer doesn't care if the text is nonsense). Charging visually impaired people $100 month for an app that plays a text-to-speech description of anything they point their cameras at is low-value and moderately risk tolerant ("that's your blue shirt" when it's green is not a big deal, while "the street is safe to cross" when it's not is a much bigger one).

Morganstanley doesn't talk about the trillions the AI industry will be worth some day because of these applications. These are just spinoffs from the main event, a collection of extremely high-value applications. Think of self-driving cars or radiology bots that analyze chest x-rays and characterize masses as cancerous or noncancerous.

These are high value – but only if they are also risk-tolerant. The pitch for self-driving cars is "fire most drivers and replace them with 'humans in the loop' who intervene at critical junctures." That's the risk-tolerant version of self-driving cars, and it's a failure. More than $100b has been incinerated chasing self-driving cars, and cars are nowhere near driving themselves:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Quite the reverse, in fact. Cruise was just forced to quit the field after one of their cars maimed a woman – a pedestrian who had not opted into being part of a high-risk AI experiment – and dragged her body 20 feet through the streets of San Francisco. Afterwards, it emerged that Cruise had replaced the single low-waged driver who would normally be paid to operate a taxi with 1.5 high-waged skilled technicians who remotely oversaw each of its vehicles:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/11/03/technology/cruise-general-motors-self-driving-cars.html

The self-driving pitch isn't that your car will correct your own human errors (like an alarm that sounds when you activate your turn signal while someone is in your blind-spot). Self-driving isn't about using automation to augment human skill – it's about replacing humans. There's no business case for spending hundreds of billions on better safety systems for cars (there's a human case for it, though!). The only way the price-tag justifies itself is if paid drivers can be fired and replaced with software that costs less than their wages.

What about radiologists? Radiologists certainly make mistakes from time to time, and if there's a computer vision system that makes different mistakes than the sort that humans make, they could be a cheap way of generating second opinions that trigger re-examination by a human radiologist. But no AI investor thinks their return will come from selling hospitals that reduce the number of X-rays each radiologist processes every day, as a second-opinion-generating system would. Rather, the value of AI radiologists comes from firing most of your human radiologists and replacing them with software whose judgments are cursorily double-checked by a human whose "automation blindness" will turn them into an OK-button-mashing automaton:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/23/automation-blindness/#humans-in-the-loop

The profit-generating pitch for high-value AI applications lies in creating "reverse centaurs": humans who serve as appendages for automation that operates at a speed and scale that is unrelated to the capacity or needs of the worker:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/

But unless these high-value applications are intrinsically risk-tolerant, they are poor candidates for automation. Cruise was able to nonconsensually enlist the population of San Francisco in an experimental murderbot development program thanks to the vast sums of money sloshing around the industry. Some of this money funds the inevitabilist narrative that self-driving cars are coming, it's only a matter of when, not if, and so SF had better get in the autonomous vehicle or get run over by the forces of history.

Once the bubble pops (all bubbles pop), AI applications will have to rise or fall on their actual merits, not their promise. The odds are stacked against the long-term survival of high-value, risk-intolerant AI applications.

The problem for AI is that while there are a lot of risk-tolerant applications, they're almost all low-value; while nearly all the high-value applications are risk-intolerant. Once AI has to be profitable – once investors withdraw their subsidies from money-losing ventures – the risk-tolerant applications need to be sufficient to run those tremendously expensive servers in those brutally expensive data-centers tended by exceptionally expensive technical workers.

If they aren't, then the business case for running those servers goes away, and so do the servers – and so do all those risk-tolerant, low-value applications. It doesn't matter if helping blind people make sense of their surroundings is socially beneficial. It doesn't matter if teenaged gamers love their epic character art. It doesn't even matter how horny scammers are for generating AI nonsense SEO websites:

https://twitter.com/jakezward/status/1728032634037567509

These applications are all riding on the coattails of the big AI models that are being built and operated at a loss in order to be profitable. If they remain unprofitable long enough, the private sector will no longer pay to operate them.

Now, there are smaller models, models that stand alone and run on commodity hardware. These would persist even after the AI bubble bursts, because most of their costs are setup costs that have already been borne by the well-funded companies who created them. These models are limited, of course, though the communities that have formed around them have pushed those limits in surprising ways, far beyond their original manufacturers' beliefs about their capacity. These communities will continue to push those limits for as long as they find the models useful.

These standalone, "toy" models are derived from the big models, though. When the AI bubble bursts and the private sector no longer subsidizes mass-scale model creation, it will cease to spin out more sophisticated models that run on commodity hardware (it's possible that Federated learning and other techniques for spreading out the work of making large-scale models will fill the gap).

So what kind of bubble is the AI bubble? What will we salvage from its wreckage? Perhaps the communities who've invested in becoming experts in Pytorch and Tensorflow will wrestle them away from their corporate masters and make them generally useful. Certainly, a lot of people will have gained skills in applying statistical techniques.

But there will also be a lot of unsalvageable wreckage. As big AI models get integrated into the processes of the productive economy, AI becomes a source of systemic risk. The only thing worse than having an automated process that is rendered dangerous or erratic based on AI integration is to have that process fail entirely because the AI suddenly disappeared, a collapse that is too precipitous for former AI customers to engineer a soft landing for their systems.

This is a blind spot in our policymakers debates about AI. The smart policymakers are asking questions about fairness, algorithmic bias, and fraud. The foolish policymakers are ensnared in fantasies about "AI safety," AKA "Will the chatbot become a superintelligence that turns the whole human race into paperclips?"

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/27/10-types-of-people/#taking-up-a-lot-of-space

But no one is asking, "What will we do if" – when – "the AI bubble pops and most of this stuff disappears overnight?"

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/19/bubblenomics/#pop

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

tom_bullock (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/tombullock/25173469495/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

#pluralistic #ai #economics #business #hype #bubbles #bubblenomics #residue

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kteezy997 · 3 months

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The Emperor's Wife// Paul Atreides

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, slow burn kinda

"That princess shall have no more of me than my name. No child of mine nor touch nor softness of glance, nor instant of desire." The promise of Paul Atreides as he ascended your father's throne was held true for some time. But his words began to falter in time, against his will.

He married you, but remained loyal to his concubine, Chani. But he did acknowledge that you had a literary nature, and he entrusted you to sit in on his council meetings as Emperor. The more time you spent around each other, the more you became companions, and the more he relied on your mind to help him keep a balance of things.

You noticed as Paul started to become more relaxed around you. He'd even have a laugh with you now and then. It was clear that he valued your friendship as much as your ability to write and make sense of things.

One day Paul joked that Chani was his wife of passion and you were his intellectual wife. Your feelings had started to form into deep admiration for your husband, so his words were course against your ears. Though you knew that this was the way it had to be, it wasn't any easier to hear him say it.

But there was a look from him, a look where he scanned you, slowly, from head to toe. Your special training had kicked in. You could feel it; it was desire. He thought his momentary glance would go undetected, but that was nary the case.

All the late evenings in the council room, all the discussions you had about history and his interest in your writings, it all bubbled up to his vow being broken. You caught his gaze in a meeting later, and his green eyes could no longer lie to you. He was curious and desirous of you. But he could not do anything about it. He simply could not act on it.

But you, on the other hand, were tired of the intellectual relationship. This feeling was different for you, and you never expected to fall for him. Your body ached, your skin burned for your husband. Even if it was just once, you had to have him.

You hated to admit to yourself the jealousy you felt toward his Fremen woman. You wanted to feel what Chani felt. Just one full moment of Paul's desire. You needed his touch. To exchange passionate breaths with him. To have the weight of the handsome Emperor on top of you. To have his eyes on you, and only you.

..........

You ventured to Paul's sietch, into the private apartment he shared with Chani. The Fremen in the village knew you, so they did not try to stop you, or persuade you to leave. They welcomed you with respect, as you were indeed Muad’Dib’s wife.

The room was quite plain and modest for an Emperor and his woman. The bed, however, looked cozy with glow globes on either side. The scent of cinnamon and coffee hung in the air, laced with the spice melange.

You hoped he'd come soon. You hoped he would be the first one in, and not Chani. You didn't know what to say to her, if that would be the case. She had always been pleasant toward you when you were around her, but you didn’t know if her attitude would remain the same if she knew you wanted to bed her man.

You hoped that he wouldn't be harsh towards you; that he wouldn’t be angry about you invading the space he shared with his concubine. You liked to think that you had broken his walls and exposed the tender side of him. You sat on the bed, waiting.

Finally, you heard footsteps approaching, there was a tired huff from the person outside the door, and you knew the voice instantly. Paul came in, pulling off his still suit the second he entered. He didn't see you at first. You saw his shoulders and chest as he rid himself of the rubbery material. He was strong, with hard muscles and pale skin with minor scars here and there.

You could smell the dirt and sweat that he carried. It did not deter you in the slightest, but made you more eager.

He could sense you there. You knew he could.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, without even turning to face you.

You took a shaky breath, then answered, "I wanted to see you, Paul."

He finished freeing his arms from the constrictive suit, turning to look at you sitting on his bed. "And why?"

You were excited just seeing his shoulders, but now you saw his naked chest, his hard pectoral muscles and small nipples. You nearly shuddered with need. "I-uhm," I want you. "I wanted to make sure that you saw how bright and beautiful the two moons look this evening. And maybe you'd like to see my latest Muad'Dib chronicle?"

Paul nodded, "Hm." He stepped over to the window, looking up at the moons, "They are quite beautiful tonight."

You rose from the bed, joining him by the window. You could really feel his presence now, as you usually didn't get quite this close to him. His scent was stronger, too. "I brought my latest writings. If you want to read."

"Sure. You may leave them here."

He was so polite, but never overly kind. He couldn't disrespect Chani. But you so wanted things to change between you and your husband.

"Paul, I really came here to talk to you about something."

He took his eyes off the night sky outside his window and looked into your eyes. "Go on."

Your heart started thumping in your chest, you cleared your throat. "Well, I do not wish to overstep, but I think you and I have both come to enjoy our time together. I think it is safe to say that we are good friends now." You got stuck for second as you got a close look of the sweat glistening on his skin in the glowing light of the dark room.

Paul softly smiled, giving you a nod to keep going.

"But, I need you to know that no matter how amazing the moons might be on a starry night, it is no match for the way I feel when I look at you."

His expression fell, and he shook his head, "Y/n, please. I am very flattered. I appreciate you, and I care for you."

You butted in, "I can sense that you desire me, Paul. You've already broken your oath. I know that you feel distant towards your concubine, and I wonder if it has anything to do with how you feel about me."

He chuckled, walking away from you, "I thought you said you didn't wish to overstep?"

"I cannot help it. I'm sorry. But you know my training." You genuinely didn't want to disrupt anything between him and Chani.

He ran his hand over his face, pushing away the exhaustion of the day, trying to make sense of his own feelings as well. "Y/n, you aren't wrong. Chani knows that my sentiments for you have shifted."

So he admits it!

"You haven't bedded her for weeks now, have you?" you prodded, carefully.

"No," he stepped closer to you, towering over you by several inches, "not that it is any of your business."

"I don't want to make you angry, Paul. But I have seen the way you look at me, the way you brush passed me during council. You've preferred spending more and more time with me lately." You took a step forward this time, just a foot's length away from him.

Paul let his guard down, knowing that you were right about everything. His face softened, and he brought his hand up to caress your face. His hand had been roughed up by the wind and sand if the desert, but you could still see yourself melting against it as he touched you.

Paul went on to say, "You should know by now how I feel for you. But it cannot be. I made a promise. I don't ever want to be cruel to you, my y/n." he licked his dry lips, and you noticed just how blue his eyes were as a result of spice addiction. "I did not marry you for things such as love or children, you know that."

"Yes, I know." you sighed, having heard that piece of information a hundred times during your marriage. "My husband, you are a loyal man. I admired you for that, but I don't wish for anything more than the same love that you have for your concubine. You can share that tenderness with me."

He said nothing, but kept his hand on your cheek, gazing at you so fondly.

You could sense him breaking for you. "Paul," you leaned closer, placing your hand on his exposed chest, "I have seen the way your eyes narrow at me when I bow before you as my Emperor."

Then, his hand wound tightly into your hair, and his lips were being smashed against yours. He pulled you against him, he moaned into your kiss. His hands were on your body, sliding up the curves of your hips.

Your body was electrified, you ran your hands through his hair, not caring how sweaty he was. The hunger was equal on both sides.

Paul pulled away suddenly, sighing as he turned away from you.

He was still wrestling in his mind, you knew it. "I need you." you said, melancholy taking over your tone as you started to believe he was going to refuse you completely, "I need my husband. I want to made love to by Muad'Dib." You went over to him, looking at his back you noticed a scar, larger than the others on his body. You wondered if the mark was result of a fall on a sand dune or maybe the consequence of riding the great sandworm. You reached out, cautiously running your finger along the scar.

He shivered at your touch, but he didn't shy away.

You decided that maybe this plan was fruitless, that he wouldn't, and never could love you the proper way in which a man loved his wife. "Paul, if you do not love me, I will leave now. You'll never see me come back to this place. I will accept being wrong. Things will go back as they were."

"No, please, don't go." he faced you again. He relaxed more, his body language and the look in his eyes was more at ease.

"Then stop me, my dear husband."

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee chalamet smut #timothée imagine #paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides smut #paul atreides imagine #dune fandom #dune film #dune #dune 2021

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perlelune · 2 months

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Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | iii.

Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

“So what’s your deal?” Festus Creed asks out of the blue.

Your mouth opens in shock, a nervous laugh slipping out. “My deal?”

A mocking sneer twists his features. “Yeah, Coriolanus kept trying to get you to eat with us but you were being weird about it. If you hate us, just say so.”

While some snigger at the table, Coriolanus stares daggers at him. The mirth instantly vanishes from Festus’ face.

Clemensia bumps her elbow into his rib, chiding him, “Festus, come on,”

“I don’t…hate anyone,” you defend, your voice hardly above a whisper.

Clemensia flashes you a reassuring smile.

“Of course, you don’t. Coriolanus said you’re very sweet.”

Livia rolls her eyes.

“Ugh, whatever. Can we get back to discussing the Yuletide Ball?”

Surprise flutters through you. The name bears vague familiarity. It can be found in the archives detailing the history of the Capitol University. But it’d since long become a frivolity amidst concerns such as quelling the uprisings in the Districts. What’s a students’ dance in the face of war and famine?

“The Yuletide Ball? I thought this was an abolished tradition…I mean since the war.”

Excitement illuminates Livia’s face.

“We’re bringing back the tradition this year, thanks to Coriolanus here. He convinced the new dean.”

Coriolanus lowers his head in apparent humbleness.

“I just made a few good points and he couldn’t refuse me,” he shares. He turns to you, blue eyes sparkling. “I’m pretty persuasive when I need to be.” A chill dances through you at his low, suggestive tone.

To your relief, his attention switches to the rest of the table.

“It’s important to not let District scum ruin our way of life. Traditions must return.”

Livia smirks. “Spoken like a student body president.”

Coriolanus waves a dismissive hand but a hint of smugness lingers in his tone as he says, “Please, elections are only in a month.”

“And it’s obvious you’ll win,” Clemensia states.

He gives a light shrug.

“We shall see.”

Clemensia pivots to you.

“Ivy, Liv and I are on the Ball committee,” she preens, her face brightening. “You could join us if you want.”

You lick your lips. “I don’t know if I’d find the time with midterms coming up soon…”

Coriolanus’ fingertips graze your arm as he offers, “You should do it, angel. It’d be a good way to expand your social circle.”

“You mean her nonexistent circle,” Festus gibes.

The blond’s jaw clenches.

“Talk to her like that again and see what happens, Creed.”

Festus cowers, nervousness flickering on his face. He clears his throat.

“Sorry,” he says to you.

“It’s fine.”

Coriolanus’ fingers latch around your wrist as his steely gaze cuts into Festus.

“No, it’s not fine,” he articulates.

Undisturbed by the altercation between the boys, Clemensia prattles on about the ball.

“We meet up every Saturday morning. We’re working on winter-themed decorations right now. It’ll be so fun. It takes forever to do though.” She looks at you with emphasis. “An extra set of hands would be really welcome.”

“Clemensia…”

“Call me Clemmie,” she interrupts. “All my friends do.”

Friends? You study her hand clasped around yours. The concept is a little foreign to you. You also ponder why someone like Clemensia, with her perfect silky mane and smooth, blemish-free face would want to befriend you. She is the girl everyone gravitates towards. Charismatic, smart and nice to boot. And you might as well be a fly on a wall, ignored on the best days.

You are so stunned that it takes a shamefully long time for the words to fall back on your tongue.

“Clemmie, I’m usually busy on Saturday.”

“Oh.” She deflates, her hold on your hand loosening. “I get it. Sorry I asked.”

The excitement on her face plummets. Immediately, you feel terrible. You’ve never missed a single Saturday of studying, using that time to break down your more complicated courses of the week. But Clemmie looks crestfallen.

Perhaps, this one time, you can adjust your plans a little. One Saturday won’t make a difference in the entire year.

“But…I can try to free up some time,” you offer.

She perks up with your response.

“Great. We’ll be expecting you then.”

Lunch then proceeds, the table resuming the lively debate they were having before you showed up. Festus maintains facts about his family’s role in the reconstruction after the war while Clemensia rolls her eyes. They go back and forth and you observe them, slightly fascinated by the exchange. It’s such a rare occurrence for you to be around others that you soak every bit of their interaction. You get the inkling this happens a lot between them, them ruffling each other’s feathers. Ivy and Livia get wrapped in their own secret conversation you don’t catch a single word of. Meanwhile, Coriolanus watches all of them, taking a bite of the food on his plate every once in a while. The way he eats is slow, nonchalant, almost like he couldn’t care less what’s on his plate. Even if he doesn’t interject at any point, he looks right at home at this table. Unlike you. You recline into silence, letting every minute fly by as you wait for lunch to be over. When it finally is, relief surges inside you.

You mumble a quick goodbye and gather your things. Clemensia beams and waves at you while the others barely acknowledge your departure.

You head for the hallways, trying not to allow your mind to linger on the strange, uncomfortable lunch. Still, your mind swirls. You curse yourself for every blunder and awkward moment. You told him you don’t belong, that you’re an outsider, and always will be. It’s painfully obvious. From the way you dress, talk, carry yourself, you have nothing in common with girls like Clemensia or Livia. There’s a vast chasm between you and them. He should have listened. It astounds you that you even let yourself get roped into joining Clemensia’s committee thing. Though perhaps that won’t be too much of a hassle. You’ll show up to keep your word, then sink back into your rigid study routine.

Coriolanus’ deep voice, a sound you’re now oddly familiar with, erupts behind you.

“Let me carry those for you,” he says, swiping the books in your arms before you can protest. He falls in pace with you, a gentle expression decorating his handsome face.

You frown, the uncanny emptiness of your arms swelling your discomfort.

“You don’t have to-”

“I insist,” he interrupts, chuckling lightly when you try to reach for your books and he dodges you with ease. Your shoulders sag. Your strides hasten, an urgency limning your steps now.

Coriolanus meets no issue with your escalating cadence. He easily keeps up with you, a subtle hint of mirth lurking in his cobalt gaze.

“It wasn’t too much, was it?” he inquires. “I know they can be a lot but they’re all good people. I promise.”

A myriad of words weigh heavy on your tongue but you diplomatically swallow each, settling for a safe, innocuous remark.

“Clemmie was nice.”

The corners of the blond’s lips quirk skyward.

“I told you she was.”

The statement hovers between the two of you for a while. Clemensia seems nice indeed. The rest of his friend group…perhaps a little less so. Possibly a bit more cutthroat and self-absorbed. Though you surmise it is a requirement to be a member of Panem’s elite.

No other word is traded between you and him as you make your way to the lecture hall.

“This is me,” you announce.

You turn to Coriolanus, hands stretching towards your books. He makes no move to give them back. Your forehead creases.

He gives you a sluggish once-over before offering, “What if I drove you back home after your classes?”

You nibble your bottom lip, dismayed by his proposition. You’ve caught glimpses of his fancy new car, as you’re sure most have at the University. As heir apparent to the Plinth fortune, he gets to spend money as he likes.

“I usually walk. It’s okay.”

He gets a little closer. “Come on, angel. Just let me do something nice for you.”

You shrink until your back hits the wall, stunned when Coriolanus follows each of your steps.

“My last lecture is…Professor Bellweather tends to ramble,” you mumble, his proximity unnerving you. “I don’t…I don’t know when he’ll be done.”

He licks his lips.

“I’ll just wait for you, angel.”

He utters the words like it’s obvious. You gawk at him. It takes you a few minutes to retrieve your speech.

You scratch your arm, your frown accentuating.

“You really don’t have to. Like I said, walking home is fine.”

The gaze trained on your form sharpens.

“And I’m offering to take you home so you don’t have to exert yourself.” He bends over you, invading the already insufficient space between the two of you. “Has a friend never done something like that for you?”

“N-No,” you admit.

His tone’s heavy with suggestion as he rasps, “So let me be your first then, angel.”

Your heart stumbles inside your chest.

“I’m gonna be late for class,” you blurt out, attempting to brush past him.

Coriolanus’ hand darts out, swiftly cinching around your wrist to stop you from leaving.

“I still don’t have an answer,” Coriolanus says.

You glance from his hand, tight around your wrist, to his determined gaze. Your throat goes dry.

“Okay, you can d-drive me back home.”

He releases your wrist and returns your books, a smile ghosting over his lips.

“Wonderful. I’ll come get you later, angel.”

Clutching your books against your chest, you watch him glide away.

As promised, Coriolanus is waiting for you when you exit from your last class. You don’t even think to hide your shock as you find the blond leaning against the wall. A smirk unfans on his lips, your reaction seeming to amuse him.

He doesn’t say much to you as you walk side by side and head to his car. When you’re outside, he surprises you by opening the passenger door for you before you can even lift a hand.

“T-Thanks,” you stammer. You plop down on the plush seat. The leather smells new and expensive.

Your nerves thrum as he takes the driver’s seat and starts the car. You’ve never been alone in a car with a boy before. Uneasy, you let your eyes roam outside the window. The Capitol’s high buildings blur past you rapidly.

You’re lost in your thoughts when you notice the prickling sensation over your flesh, The burning, unwavering weight of Coriolanus Snow’s scrutiny.

Your head whirls.

Bashful words quake through your lips.

“Do I have something on my face?” Your hands reach to touch it, just in case.

He chuckles.

“No,” he replies, shrugging. “It’s a nice face that’s all.”

The casual compliment sends a wave of heat through your body.

“Can you drive?” he asks, curiosity lighting his features.

You shake your head. Getting your license has never been a priority. Besides, it’s only a thirty minute walk to get to the University. You don’t mind it, often using that time to sneak in some reading.

“No.”

“I could drive you if you like,” he offers, his gaze holding yours. “Anywhere you want to go.”

Your cheeks warm. “I’m okay.”

Coriolanus nods, his focus shifting back to the road.

“You always say that…” He hums low in his throat. “I’m just not sure I believe it, angel.”

You’re so nervous the entire drive that you don’t even notice when he arrives at your house. You stare at him, mouth agape. You haven’t given him a single instruction on how to get there.

“You know where I live?”

As he opens the door for you, Coriolanus simply replies, “You told me earlier.”

Your brows furrow. You don’t remember telling him but his tone harbors no doubt. You rummage through your brain, seeking the moment. Nothing comes up and you grow confused.

You blink up at him.

“I-I did?”

“Yes, you did, angel.” He snorts as if your line of questioning is beyond ludicrous. “How else would I know?” He slams the door of the car as you rise. “Besides…Dr. Gaul is my mentor. Of course, I know where she lives.”

You nod. That makes sense and it didn’t even occur to you.

“I…”

He cocks his head. “What?”

You fidget beneath his stare, discomfort flaring in the pit of your stomach.

“Nothing. Thanks for driving me home.”

He flashes you a wide smile.

“My pleasure. See you soon, angel.”

He starts the car and drives away. You don’t feel quite at ease until his car’s gone from view, heading towards the Corso.

Walter zooms across the room as soon as you enter the large apartment. Your eyes wander about. As usual, the place is empty besides you and Walter. Mother rarely spends any time here nowadays, her work occupying all of her time.

Walter rubs his furry head against your ankle, twirling around you as he meows. He then stands on his hind legs and starts gently raking his claws across your leg. A way for him to demand that you pet him. A small smile tugging your lips, you pick him up. The orange ball of fur purrs, curling against your chest as you carry him in your arms. You make your way to the kitchen and pour a mix of leftover meat and fish in his bowl.

You set him down on the floor. His tail wiggles as he hops to his food.

You crouch next to him.

“You wouldn’t believe what happened today, Walter,” you say while giving gentle pets to his back. “I was invited to their table.” The orange cat pauses his eating to stare up at you blankly. “Yes. Theirs,” you repeat as if he could understand you. He gives a long meow before focusing on his bowl again. You sigh. “I know. I thought the same thing.”

Once Walter’s emptied his bowl, you pick him up again and make your way to the living room.

You collapse on the couch.

“And then…Coriolanus Snow drove me home. Yes, the Coriolanus Snow. I didn’t even think he knew I existed.”

For a while, you remain on the couch, stroking Walter’s fur as he sits on your lap. His tail whips the air, his eyes closing as you pet him. His soft rumble of content reverberates against your belly, amplifying when your fingers drag behind his pointed white ears. You lean back, a blanket of peace settling over you.

Walter’s not just a strange-looking cat, he’s also a rescue…from your mother’s experiments. A kitten mutt with mismatched eyes, one blue and one yellow, his mushed, wrinkled face gives him a passing resemblance to a rodent. Pets like him are a rarity in today’s world as most creatures such as him were eaten during the First Rebellion.

Your mother finds him appalling. In her eyes, he is a failed experiment. Like you. Perhaps it’s why you have such kinship with the creature. You still recall her unsettling glance in your direction the day she asked the entire class of nine-year-olds at the Academy if they had pets they were sick of. She then proceeded to burn the flesh off a lab rat to demonstrate her pulsed energy laser.

This moment is burned into your mind forever, your mother’s clinical tone chilling your blood.

You stole Walter from the Citadel and took him home that same day.

You were careful to hide him, though you suspect your mother figured out what you did. She likely added it to her long list of disappointments when it comes to you.

Sometimes, you envy Walter. The simplicity his days hinge upon. His obliviousness to the woes of the world. His uncanny ability to sleep through the chaos of it, ignore the disarray. Walter’s world consists of food, play and cuddles.

What a blissful existence. You bet Walter never had a vexing thought in his short life.

The train of your thoughts is interrupted by the shrill ringing of the phone.

You carefully remove Walter from your lap. He meows in protest and jumps off the couch. You pick up the phone, chest clenching as a familiar face fills the flickering screen.

“Mother,” you greet. “How are you?”

She ignores your question, curtly stating, “You’re falling behind in Molecular Cell Biology.”

You know that tone all too well, the warning laced within it so achingly familiar.

Your fingers twist around the phone cord, your voice becoming small.

“I’ll get my grades up, I promise.”

Silence hovers between you and your mother for a while. Faint hope sparks within you. Perking up, you decide to tell her about your day.

“Oh, mother, today-”

“I must go,” she interrupts. “It’s time for my milk and cookies.”

Your spirits plummet. You nudge a hollow smile onto your face.

“Right. I didn’t realize,” you say, checking the clock hanging on the wall. “I’m sorry.”

She heaves out a deep sigh, her lone blue eye narrowing.

“Focus on your studies. And try not to be even more of an embarrassment to me than you already are.”

“Y-Yes, mother,” you reply, your heart shriveling inside your chest.

As she hangs up, you feel silly and horrible. Silly for trying to strike up a normal conversation with your mother. And horrible for letting her down once more.

“You came!” Clemensia exclaims as she rushes to you. You try not to tense as she gives you a tight hug. Ivy and Livia linger in the background, their eyes lifting from the crafts’ table.

You wave at them and are surprised when Ivy wiggles her fingers at you. Livia is more withdrawn, nodding to acknowledge your presence but quickly returning to her task.

You step out of Clemensia’s embrace and flash a quick smile.

“Well I promised you that I would,” you reply nonchalantly. You take a look around the room. Various decorations and posters are propped against the walls, while snowflakes cut-outs and what looks like moon dust are scattered on the table. It seems the girls have been busy.

You turn to Clemensia. “What’s the theme again?”

Ivy surprises you by answering cheerfully, “Well, it’ll be like a Winter daydream and we were thinking of making it a masquerade.”

Excitement sways in Clemensia’s bright eyes. “What do you think?”

“Sounds nice.” Your trite answer draws every gaze in the room to you. Awkwardly bouncing on your feet, you correct yourself, beaming at Clemensia. “I meant amazing.”

“I think so too,” she chimes.

She shows you the empty chair next to hers. The both of you sit down and she starts rambling about the theme and all the ideas she has to decorate the ballroom. You grow dizzy with all the information, trying to follow along her instructions at the same time.

“We’ll need to find you a date,” Clemensia says.

You shake the can of blue paint before spraying over the tree cut-out.

“It’s okay. I probably won’t be going anyway,” you respond absently.

The pencil in Livia’s hand snaps. Your head rises. The blonde’s gaping at you. You then realize…the same look of disbelief is etched on all the girls’ features. A frown mars your brow. Did you say something wrong? You didn’t realize this was such an important event.

A nervous laugh peals off Clemensia’s red-painted lips.

“No, but you have to,” she says, “It’s the first Yuletide Ball in over a decade. Everyone will be there.”

You shrug. “It’s four months away, Clemmie.”

Her onyx gaze shimmers.

“Well, a lot can happen in four months,” she sings, a mysterious smile spreading onto her lips.

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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youraverageaemondsimp · 9 months

Text

Love Once, Live Twice

Aemond Targaryen x F!reader [ONE SHOT]

warnings: fluff to angst to fluff, war, depression, s*icide, s*icidal thoughts, mentions of r*pe, character death, multiple character deaths, feelings of hopelessness, smut (not explicit), a happy ending tho!! Not proofread sorry

WC: 3.5k

You had met Aemond when you were little, after he lost his eye, Queen Alicent was looking for a lady-in-waiting to accompany her daughter as her daughter mostly stayed alone, lost in her world accompanied by non human creatures.

None managed to stay for too long, finding her too be odd and creepy, except you, you had always encouraged Princess Helaena's hobbies and showed genuine interest, and the princess great appreciated it.

You and her had grown close, and she had introduced you to her brothers, Aegon, Aemond and Daeron, Aemond was reluctant as first, he was insecure, his wound being fresh, he looked disfigured and he didn't want to frighten you.

But to his surprise, you didn't really care, you greeted him the same way as you had Aegon and Daeron and sometimes even sought out to him on your own to have a conversation or two and for the first time in his life, he felt that someone genuinely cared for him besides his mother.

Helaena had days where she just wanted to be left alone with no one's company, and you understood that and respected her privacy and her need for some alone time, the queen never really understood why because she thought you were close, but you had told her that regardless of whether they are close or not, the presence of people can sometimes be overwhelming, even if it's a close friends.

So you spent those days accompanying Prince Aemond, since you guys were closer in age, with him being only a few moons older than you, He had the same routine, train, study, eat and sleep, he would spend hours at the library after the teachings of the maesters to seek out knowledge of his own and you would often accompany him during those hours.

You both would bask in comfortable silence as you would read fairytales while he sat opposite and read about the histories and laws, you had tried learning but later realised that it bored you to oblivion, so you stuck to adventure, romance novels.

Those moments shared together in your childhood made your bond with all of them stronger, you had been the one to suggest sapphires for Prince Aemond to wear in his eye when he had healed and left an empty socket, he first considered emeralds, as they were green and he wanted to honour his mother.

You were surprised when he asked for your opinion, and your choice was the sapphire since you said it would suit his beautiful valyrian features overall better, and that it was also your favourite jewel.

And so sapphire it was.

Time passed by quickly and your and aemond's relationship blossomed more, you and helaena had also grown closer, she had grown quite fond of you, you both were good friends.

Aemond's nighteenth name day had passed and yours was coming soon, the prince had been receiving marriage proposals since his sixteenth name day but he had rejected them all, you hadnt really known why until your name day had finally arrived.

And under the godswood tree, after the procession of your name day had ended, which you had refused for it to take place but alicent said it was special and said that it was the least she could do for you, you went out on a walk before Aemond pulled aside and when the moon shone brightly he had given you a sapphire necklace before kissing you.

The kiss was soft and gentle, his lips moving against yours in gentle rhythm as you don the sapphire necklace around your neck, his hand wrapped around your waist while you held onto to his shoulder.

A shiver went through you when he pulled away and gave you a smirk, you slapped his chest lightly “what was that for?!” you whisper yelled and he chuckled before pulling you into an embrace.

“Mhm, is it wrong to show appreciation for my favorite Lady or her big day?” he felt his chest vibrate when his spoke, “You could've just gave me the gift and parted, yet you kissed me my prince, that is a very indecent behavior for an unmarried man and a maiden to partake in.”

“I intend to marry you, My lady.” he says and your heart stops for a moment before you pull away in shock and look at him, he looks down at you and cups your cheek, “Do not jest, My prince.” you say and grab his arms. He leans in.

“I am not, I do fully intend to marry you, I have wanted to, ever since I was of age, I rejected all those proposals because the one I had truly wanted was you, My lady. You have been with me through thick and thin, accompanied me since my childhood, and I assume it is safe to say that you have completely smitten me. I want to spend the rest of my days with you, with you as my Wife, the mother to my children.” you felt butterflies in your stomach at his confession, you embraced him again, in a silent agreement and also shyness, you felt him chuckle before he placed a kiss to your forehead.

Oh how you wished things would last like forever.

But they didn't.

They were not meant to.

You were aware of the growing tensions in between the targaryen family, and when viserys had finally died, hell broke free.

At first you thought things can be settled, and will go smoothly if rhaenyra had accepted the peace treaty, but she hadn't, and that was the final attempt in mending the drift between the house.

Your heart shattered into a million pieces when the maids had informed you that prince aemond had flown to storms end to give his hand in marriage to one of the baratheon daughters in order to secure their alliance. You knew it was foolish of you to hope that you and him would be endgame, you are never meant to be.

You remember crying to Helaena about it, she consoled you in her arms, your good friend and whispered loving words to you just like you had to her during all the time spent together, you were grateful for her.

You thought about confronting him when he returned from storm's end, preparing what you would say to him, but it wasn't how you had intended to take place.

The loud sound of doors slamming open and close in your chamber woke you from your slumber as you squint and sat up, legs dangling off the edge as you tried adjusting your vision to see more clearly, it was raining heavily outside, a tall figure strided towards you and fell to it's knees by your legs, pulling you by the waist before cradling it's face on your thighs, hands tightly wrapped around you, shivering, your nightgown getting wet.

“Aemond?” you questioned, noticing the silver blonde hair and the only response you got from him was a cracked sob, “I- i didn't mean to do it- i lost control. I- i didn't mean, im- I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” you felt warm tears fall on your nightgown, soaking through the material before hitting your thighs.

“Shhh, it's okay, what happened Aem?” you cooed gently, shushing him as you brushed his hair in a way to bring him comfort, he finally lifted his face to look at you, you had noticed how soulless his eye was, the usual glint of light gone from it.

He swallowed thickly, “I'm sorry, for everything.” he said, and just then you were reminded of his betrothal, but decided to push that topic down for some other time and you sat quietly, waiting for him to open up.

“I killed him.” he says

Your froze before blinking and looking at him, “Killed who?” you asked confused, he took in a deep breath.

“Lucerys, My nephew, I killed him— I didn't mean- I just wanted to scare him— but— but— Vhagar was attacked by Arrax and I lost control, and before I knew it— lucerys was no more, his dragon was more— their pieces falling from the sky.” his voice cracked as he explained, his grip tightening around your waist.

Your blood ran cold, you knew what this meant, they would all find out in the morning and he would be named as a kinslayer, but that isn't what bothered you, it's the fact that his words would not be believed by anyone and that the blacks would strike the moment they found out.

“Come here, Aemond.” you lifted him up before pressing your lips to his, he lifted himself up, not breaking the kiss before pushing you onto the bed as he deepened the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, he bucked his hips against you.

“Do you mind? I know this isn't how—” before he could continue you hushed him and agreed that it was okay, you both needed this so desperately.

You spent the next few moments coupling, his hips thrusting violently into your cunt, as if he was channeling his anger towards himself in such a way and you took it and encouraged him to do so, it wasn't your first time, he had taken your maidenhead already, of course no one knew as all the times you've both spent intimately like this were done so in secret, he had neared his edge and spilt himself deep inside of you, sighing into your neck.

That night, you had comforted aemond to sleep, cleaning both yourselves up before propping yourself next to him, cradling his head between your chest as you whispered words of comfort and reassurance to him, pressing kisses on his forehead, you had never seen him vulnerable.

If you ignored the context, it would be a loving moment overall, but alas, it can't be that easy can it?

Things got worse.

A son for a son they said.

You clung tightly onto to helaena as he hugged the headless body of her son, jaeherys and weeped loudly, screaming and sobbing as the blood stained her dress, “my baby, my baby my baby” she kept whispering and cooing lovingly at the headless body, you hugged her tightly, she refused to let go of the body but you had pried her off for the guards to take it away from her.

You didn't attend the funeral, not being able to see the sad look on your dear friend's face.

Time passed by, and Helaena's condition only got worse and worse, she would scream and wail loudly, she was gone to madness, and you felt burning hatred for the blacks at this, poor Jaeherys, Poor Helaena, they had done nothing to them.

You lost any remaining of respect for them the moment someone had informed that their original plan was also to have Helaena and Jaehaera raped, but they had only succeeded in killing Jaeherys, You grit your teeth.

It was not until a few days later, in your chambers, when you were informed that Helaena had thrown herself from Maegors Holdfast.

You felt dead.

You watched as her body was retrieved from the spikes below, her face holding an odd expression of peace, you sobbed loudly, pushing through the guards and getting to her, the guards had tried to hold you back but you kept thrasing in their hold.

You screamed, begging them to let go of you, so you may hold your friend one last time, tears fell from your face down onto the ground before they all looked in pity at you before queen alicent gave a sad nod to the guards with tears in her eyes to let you go and they did.

You immediately cradled Helaena's head bought it into your lap, clutching onto it and crying loudly, you don't know how long you stayed like that, sobbing uncontrollably before you felt someone tug up at your arms and it was Aemond with a sad expression on his face, you let go of her and hugged aemond tightly, you didn't care what people thought at that moment, you sobbed loudly into his chest.

You knew he felt guilty, that everything was his fault, although you knew it was half true, you couldn't hear him treating himself that way.

That entire day was spent with you crying in his arms, him consoling you, you knew he was in pain too, he loved his sister a lot, you both mourned the loss together in each other arms.

Days, Weeks, Moons passed by

And with every loss, you lost a piece of yourself.

Aemond now ruled as prince regent due to Aegons terrible condition which showed no signs of getting better.

You were helpless.

You had always been helpless.

Even now, when you were informed of Aemond's death.

Aemond had told you about the witch he found when he slaughtered the strong house, Alys rivers was her name, she was a bastard of the strong house he said, she had told him that she would help him in defeating his uncle, daemon.

Who Aemond despised.

It was also the day you broke the news that you were carrying his child inside your womb, he was so happy, it didn't matter that the babe would be considered, he couldn't care less, it was also the day that he told you that he didn't want to marry Floris Baratheon, that it had always been you, and would forever be you, but he was forced to, as it was his duty, and you understood him.

You remember kissing him before he left, cradling his face gently, giving him a warm smile, he promised that he would return safely, and that everything would be alright.

You allowed yourself to hope.

One thing about war is that you should never hope.

Only fools hope.

You fell to your knees the moment you were informed of his death, frozen up.

How many more losses?

How many more?

You couldn't do this anymore.

You lost everything you held meaning for.

Helaena, Aemond, Queen Alicent who was lost to depression.

She loathed the color green now.

The people who you cherished the most.

You thought about ending it, just as Helaena had, but the dragon breathing inside you had stopped you so, your child.

You lost him, but he left a small fragment of himself behind, in your womb, your child, who was now growing with each day, your only solace in times of battle and war.

But alas, they wouldn't let you have it either.

The son of Rhaenyra, Aegon III, to quickly fix everything, he was wed to jaehera, was taken and put on the throne to rule, and in his rule, your execution was announced.

For carrying the seed of Aemond Targaryen, they would ensure that none of the green bloodline should carry forward.

When your head was placed in the guillotine, you thought about all the moments leading up to this moment now, tears streaming down your face as you prayed to the gods above, that if you were given another life, another chance, you would wish things played out differently.

Your last thought was of Aemond, the boy you loved and spent time with, you loved him dearly.

That was the final thing in your mind before everything went dark.

You woke up with a painful headache, groaning you turned over to grab your phone and check the time, 7:13AM, you sighed heavily before getting up from the bed and rubbing your head to soothe the ache.

You had the same dream again, although no matter how many times you tried to remember entirely, it would always be blank, you couldn't remember the faces, nor what went down, you just remember crying and feeling miserable.

You were visiting the ancient building of red keep not far from the city, from a few hundred years ago, it was last burnt down by daenerys targaryen before they managed to rebuild it and preserve it ever since, it became a tourist spot since there were no more targaryens to inherit it, and you would be going with your friends as a way to hang out and also make the time worth it since they were all history freaks.

You noticed a text from your best friend, Helaena. She asked if you were up and that you would be visiting the keep at 11AM, you had plenty of time you thought and got up and started your day slowly.

You remember meeting Helaena online last year, you both clicked immediately and she had come many times to visit you and recently moved into the city to further study in a nearby university.

You remember her telling that she had 3 brothers whom she cherished very dearly, she had blonde hair and silver eyes which looked very godly, it was only then she mentioned that she was of valyrian descent, and that her native home was in Lys, where back in history when Old Valyria was destroyed they all sought refugee to.

You snapped out of your thoughts and got ready, getting in your car and driving to Helaena's place and picking her up first before fetching the rest of your friends.

“Oh by the way! Remember how I said I had brothers?” Helaena asks and you nod, “Well one of them is visiting town today, and he said he'll directly meet us at the red keep since he was also here for tourism purposes!” she says excitedly and you smile at her, “That's great, hel!”

You had parked your car in the parking lot located underground the keep, you noticed many cars around, I guess it was to be expected as it is a famous tourist spot, although you would be considered a local, you had never visited the keep, you didn't know why.

You all made your way out before entering the gates, you noticed how familiar it felt to you, and you walked front, leading your group along and helping them not get lost, and after a while, you all decided to part ways and explore further and deeper.

You didn't know where you wanted to go, and so, you trusted your body to it and let your feet take you to where you wanted to.

They brought you to stand in front of a tree, which seemed to have been taken perfect care of, the godswood, they called it.

You were surprised how this tree managed to withstand such destruction, obviously there were noticeable changes than how it looked before which you found strange, as it was your first time seeing this tree. You were lost in your thought until a voice broke you out of it.

“Y/n...?”

Your body froze, and your heart started beating loudly, that voice.

You recognized it.

You slowly turned around to look at the source.

And then as if on cue, a strong wind blew your direction, as you felt your head pang in painful ways before you remembered it all.

The dreams you saw, weren't dreams.

Those faces were now complete, all puzzles fell into place together.

It felt like someone was trying to mix oil and water in your brain, the overwhelming memories of you.

You let out a sob.

“A-Aemond?” your voice cracked and tears dripped from his eyes before he smiled and rushed to you, embracing you tightly, you hugged him back, taking in his scent.

“I missed you, I missed you.” he hugged you tightly, afraid that if he let's you go, he would lose you again, slowly you were running out of breath so you pulled apart before smiling up at him.

“I missed you too.” you say, no other words were exchanged between you both, you basked in the realisation that Aemond was back, you felt him kiss your forehead.

“I promised I would return didn't I?” Aemond spoke, trying to joke, you punched his chest lightly, “Yeah, and what? It took you 500 years almost.” you rolled your eyes playfully and he chuckled at that

“I guess you two found each other huh...” you hear Helaena's voice and you look at her, a smile wounding up your face before you pulled away from Aemond and went and hugged her.

“How long have you remembered?” you asked, “This morning, I had a dream.” she says and you tell her the same thing.

“It seems the gods have decided to reunite us all again.” Helaena said and you smiled, you knew remembering your past life would also bring in the sorrow.

Helaena remembering that she lost her child, and you too.

But all that didn't matter now, she and you both knew it was a new life, and she currently didn't have sons, nor was she married to her brother, and neither was there war.

Things were different.

You smiled at that, the gods heard your cries and pleas, and acknowledged all of the pain you went through.

“You know Aemond, you better keep your word this time about marrying me, otherwise maybe I'll go on dates and get myself a boyfriend.” you say playfully and he nudges your shoulder at that.

“I'll kill him.” he says so seriously that it has you and helaena laughing.

Things were perfect.

And they stayed that way.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond x fem!reader #hotd x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond the kinslayer #aemond one shot

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racefortheironthrone · 9 months

Note

how do you feel about gen ed requirements in college majors?

Oooh, that's a good question, because I feel genuinely conflicted about it.

Cards on the table, I should say that I picked my undergraduate university precisely because it had a broad core curriculum of literature, philosophy, art, music, and science (and because it didn't require math) for all majors.

As a freshman, I had very wide-ranging interests and wasn't sure what I wanted to do for my major when I started, even though I started taking as many history electives as possible starting in my second semester. But even though I didn't need much time to "find myself," I still feel that the "well-rounded" education I received was good for my intellectual development, my ability to participate in society, and so forth.

And then there's the fact that my grad school career was entirely dependent on history classes being used as gatekeeping requirements for poli sci, communications, and sociology majors, which generated a steady demand for TA labor. So I do recognize that gen ed requirements are absolutely essential to the economics of many disciplines, and universities would have to rethink how they fund departments if they got rid of gen ed requirements altogether.

That being said, I do recognize that these kinds of requirements can also be really bad for students who are quite different from myself. As generations of students forced to take Physics for Poets or English for Engineers can testify, it can be legitimately frustrating for people who have a strength and an interest in an area that they want to develop that they can't specialize and instead have their academic success depend in part on their weakest subjects. Moreover, given the rise of tuition prices and student debt, every additional class a student has to take is more of a burden on their shoulders.

This is where I see a symptoms/cause long-term/short-term thing going on. Because of increasing competition, credentialism and credential inflation, and the increasing uncertainty about whether rising educational costs will be requited with secure employment at a professional income, I totally understand those people who want to make the college experience shorter and more specialized as a way to save money.

At the same time, if we ask ourselves why we provide education as a society (as opposed to making employers pay the bill for the training of their workforce), I go the other way. In order for modern democracy to function effectively, we need the population to have a baseline of quantitative reasoning so that they can tell when someone is lying with statistics, to be able to close-read texts so that they can tell when someone is lying with rhetoric, and to be sufficiently media-literate to spot propaganda and misinformation.

That being said, if we are going to say to young people that they have to acquire all these skills, the quid-pro-quo is that we have to provide education as a de-commodified public good, and guarantee a job to everyone, so that the economic incentives pushing us towards shorter, more specialized higher education no longer exist.

#academia #higher education #public policy

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makethatelevenrings · 2 years

Text

Shovel Talk // B. Wayne x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

WARNINGS: brief discussion of sex

Summary: It was the first time Bruce Wayne was introducing his partner to the world...and his kids. His very inquisitive, highly trained, pain-in-the-ass kids.

The steady, firm press of the hand against your lower back was the only constant of the night, it seemed. You were whisked to and fro to talk to various people with a tight smile on your face and honey on your tongue. Your partner kept close to your side as he warmly informed each person that you were his. Your appearance came as a surprise to Gotham society and also to Bruce’s family. Only Stephanie greeted you with a brilliant grin and a quick hug.

“So,” Tim said to the blonde as the Wayne clan sidled up next to their friend. “What’s their story? How do you know them?”

Stephanie smirked, wolfish and sharp, and tossed back the champagne that was in her hand. “Hmmm, the great detectives don’t know something? It must be eating you up. I could put you out of your misery…”

She considered her options and then shrugged. “Or I could go bully some rich assholes. Have fun! Toodles.”

Stephanie placed her champagne flute on a table, gave a little finger wave to the gaggle of fellow vigilantes, and escaped into the crowd of people. Dick glanced at Damian, Tim at Duke, and Jason at Cass. Unspoken words flowed between the pairs and they nodded.

They would figure out who this mysterious figure hanging off of their father’s arm was by the end of the night. They were determined.

Bruce finally left your side to speak with investors, leaving you to stroll through the gala on your own. It was then that the first team decided to strike.

“Hi!” Richard Grayson appeared in front of you, one hand on Damian Wayne’s shoulder. “I’m Dick and this is Damian. You are…?”

“Y/N,” you replied smoothly. “Your father has told me plenty about you two.”

“That’s interesting because we’ve heard nothing about you,” Dick said cheerfully. “How did you and Bruce meet?”

You grinned and clasped your hands in front of you. “We met at a charity event in the East End a few months ago. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you. I guess he wanted to make sure I was a good fit before he introduced me to you all. How is school going, Damian?”

“Quite well,” the youngest Wayne answered. “My art class is highly stimulating.”

“Your father told me that you liked art. Have you ever been to the art museum in the city?”

“Richard has taken me once or twice.” Damian shifted his weight on his feet.

“I don’t know much about art, though, so Little D was doing all the talking,” Dick added.

“I fear my education regarding the history and styles of art is lacking.”

You shrugged. “I took a class or two on art history in the past and I’ve got a friend at the museum who gives tours. Wanna go with me someday? We’ll make Bruce buy us ice cream and everything.”

Damian glanced up at Dick, as if searching for his brother’s approval, and then back at you. He shrugged and almost appeared shy as he responded. “That would be agreeable.”

You turned to the oldest Wayne next. “You’re welcome to join us, Dick. I hear there’s an excellent photography exhibit on Cirque du Soleil right now.”

Dick blanched and he was clearly taken off guard by your response. A shy smile flitted across his face and he lost that handsome, rakish media appearance he usually kept up. “Yeah, that would be great.”

He racked his brain for something else to say, but Dick could see that you were earnest in your attempt to bond. How many times had this family scared off a potential love interest thanks to their hypervigilant secret life? And if Bruce of all people were comfortable with you, then you had to be something special.

Dick made his decision and planted his hands on Damian’s shoulders, steering him towards the hor d'oeuvres table that his other siblings crowded around in their attempt to look inconspicuous in their snooping.

“Thank you, Y/N. I see some investors we need to talk to but have Bruce set up a day for us, okay?”

“Of course. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

The next kid you ran into was Bruce’s favorite child…and his trouble child. Jason intercepted you at the dessert table just as you were stuffing a truffle into your mouth. You glanced up at him with a wide-eyed expression and then merely held out a truffle in a peace offering. He grunted but accepted the sweet without an argument.

“So…you’re bedding the old man.” You choked slightly at his words and coughed to clear your throat before pounding on your chest.

“I mean, yeah, but he’s not paying me if that’s what you think,” you said once you could breathe properly. “Do you ask about the sexual behavior of everyone or am I just the lucky one?”

He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall as he studied you carefully. “He’s not paying you? Really? How’d he get you to stay?”

“Oh, I would dump Bruce in a heartbeat. But then I would lose Alfred’s cooking and I’m not a masochist. Well, actually, I’m dating Bruce Wayne so maybe I am a masochist.”

He snorted at your comment and nodded. “Alright, that’s fair. What’s your schtick though? I mean, Bruce Wayne could have anyone he wants. Why you?”

“That’s a fair question.” You handed him another dessert, this time a mini bundt cake. “I’d like to think he keeps me around because I’m smart, invested in Gotham, and decently attractive. But between you and me?” You leaned in close so you could lower your voice and Jason took the bait, following suit and craning his neck down so he could hear your whisper.

“I know his deepest, darkest secret.” A flash of uncertainty crossed his features but you forged ahead. “The back of his left knee is the only spot on his body where he’s ticklish. He shrieks like he’s in a horror movie or something. You’re welcome.”

A wicked grin spread across his face and Jason stood up straight, his gaze clearly seeking out his adoptive father in the crowd. You patted his bicep and he darted out into the crowd with a mumbled thanks tossed in your direction. A muted shriek rose from the crowd seconds later and you hid your grin behind the glass of lemonade in your hand.

Turning to grab a final dessert, you nearly jumped a foot in the air at the sight of the girl staring at you. Cassandra raised an eyebrow at your reaction and bit down on the cupcake in her hand. You pressed a shaking hand to your chest and sucked in a long breath before flashing a smile in her direction.

“I like your shoes.”

You both glanced down at the bright purple converse on her feet and she grinned. There had been a fight with Alfred and Bruce that she won. While converse weren’t deemed “gala appropriate” or “formal”, Stephanie had gifted them to her and Cass loved them. “Thanks.”

And just like that, she melted into the crowd too.

You were chatting with Stephanie when the last two sidled up to you. Steph groaned at the sight of Tim and Duke with their shit-eating grins but you offered them a gentle smile.

“Hello boys,” you greeted. “I figured you would be showing up soon.”

“You probably know why we’re here,” Tim said, getting straight to the point. You shared a glance with Stephanie and leaned back against the wall.

“You each get three questions. Hit me with it.”

Duke perked up. “Who’s your favorite member of the Justice League?”

“Green Lantern.” Your smirk grew at the thought of Bruce’s face if he heard you say that.

“Not Batman?”

You pointed a warning finger at him. “I’ll allow that as a follow up question, but that’s the last follow up question you get. Still have two more. And no, not Batman. I might be from Gotham, but I have taste.”

“Social security number?” Tim asked. You gave him an unimpressed stare and leveled your hand up in the air before flipping your thumb down in the style of a Roman emperor deciding the fate of a gladiator.

“Try again, Timbo,” Stephanie snickered.

“Fine. Occupation.”

“Nonprofit director for a food insecurity program in Gotham. Duke?”

He considered his options for a moment and then nodded to himself. “Favorite place to eat in Gotham?”

You ignored Tim’s mutter of “this is an interrogation, Duke!” and winked at Duke. “Probably Ernie’s Burgers over on 7th. You ever try it?”

Duke grinned and raised his fist. You accepted the fist bump. “If you don’t tell Bruce, I’ll break you out of school one day and we’ll go get some burgers.”

Tim intercepted between the two of you and crossed his arms over his chest, trying and failing at looking as intimidating as Jason did. You merely raised an eyebrow at him and he deflated quickly.

“Okay, okay. Where do you currently live?”

“A studio apartment over in Otisburg. If you want, you’re welcome to stop by. I’ll try and keep your favorite snacks stocked.”

He wasn’t buying it, however. Tim was the hardest kid to crack it seemed. You looked at Duke once more and he pointed to Tim. Alright then. Two in a row.

“What is your biggest fear?”

Stephanie stiffened beside you but you accepted the question with ease. You absentmindedly played with the ring on your finger and tilted your head to the side in thought.

“Losing the people I love,” you said simply. Your gaze strayed for a moment to glance at the tall, imposing man who chatted easily with investors. Your relationship with Bruce was both new but also building for a long time. The first meeting between you two was less than ideal, but your tentative partnership and later friendship built into an undeniable attraction. And, seriously, there was a lot of denial on both parties' end.

“What are your intentions with Bruce?” Duke’s final question snapped you out of your thoughts and you couldn’t stop yourself from barking out a laugh. Stephanie dissolved into a pile of embarrassment and giggles beside you and Tim looked positively stricken.

“Am I…am I getting a shovel talk right now?” you wheezed.

“Do you need a shovel talk?” Tim asked. You shook your head and waved them off, leaning onto Stephanie for support. The blonde wiped a tear away and snickered once more.

“They don’t have a clue, do they?”

“Not one bit.”

When the night came to a close and you were seeing out the last of the guests, you found Bruce waiting for you at the base of the stairs that led to the manor. He wrapped his jacket around your shoulders as you joined him on the steps.

“Did you have a good evening?” he asked.

“Yesit was. Thank you. And the kids were darling. Damian’s an adorable sweetheart.”

His eyes narrowed at your comment and he hummed. “Yes, a regular angel.”

“You really told them nothing?”

Bruce turned you in his arms and tilted your chin up so his lips could press against yours. You tucked yourself closer to him, both savoring the body heat he offered and the rich scent of his cologne. Resting your head on his shoulder, he swayed the two of you back and forth slowly.

“They’re watching from upstairs right now, aren’t they?” you whispered.

“Mhm.” His hand traced lazy strokes up and down your back. “I’ve trained them all for years and no one caught on.”

“Think Stephanie told them yet?”

Bruce rested his chin on the top of your head and sighed. “No, we would hear it.” He drew your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the ring that sat on your finger. To some, it would appear that billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne was moving quickly. Proposing already to his mysterious partner? What would the tabloids say!

But under the moonlight and the warm lights of the manor with the eyes of all of his kids watching, the two of you knew better. The ring glinted for a moment and then, briefly, flashed blue.

You had lied to Dick. While you had met Bruce at a charity event, you had met Batman long before that on the decks of the Watchtower when Hal introduced you to the Justice League.

If there was one thing the Bat of Gotham needed, it was hope.

Tag list: @someoneimsure @perpetual-fangirl900 @visagebrise @alexxavicry

#bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #batfamily x reader #batfamily imagine #batmom imagine #batmom x reader

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artbyjessicajewett · 8 months

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Hi everyone! I wanted to introduce myself. I'm Jessica and I was a previous user of Tumblr before it was bought. I decided to come back.

Today I'm not so much a fandom person (my first account was a Supernatural and Destiel vibe) as I am living my "real" life as an artist, author, historian, and disability rights activist. I'll be 42 in February and I live on the border of Ohio and West Virginia - like, literally on the border. I can almost throw a rock and hit West Virginia from my apartment building. Living here after spending over twenty years in Georgia has been a fresh change. Georgia is not a great place for people with complex disabilities like mine. I get much better medical care and access to state services here in Ohio, which is why I came here. My ancestry is Appalachian anyway, so this does feel like home in a strange way.

My art is what I do the most. This is me doing a commission order a few years ago.

You're immediately wondering about my disability and why I do everything with the tools in my mouth. I was born with a condition called Arthrogryposis and that just simply means my joints have very little range of motion. Much of my body is stiff. So I taught myself to play with my toys, markers, etc., with my mouth rather than my hands before I could even read or go to school. It was natural for me. I live a happy life and I'm not upset about being born with this disability. You don't have to feel sorry for me because I don't feel sorry for me.

At this stage in my life, I'm working on art commission number 91 with about 50 more on my wait list. My work specializes in black and white pencil portraits, mostly of different historical periods. Most of the art people order from me has to do with my ability to interpret their previous lifetimes (yes, reincarnation) as well as introducing them to their spirit guides. I do regular art with no spiritual complex as well, like family portraits, friends portraits, pet portraits, architecture, fan art, original characters, some fantasy, witchcraft, folk magic, paranormal, historical events, etc. I'm heavily trained in realistic very detailed portraits, so if you're looking for anime or cute illustrations, I'm probably not your woman.

This is the last commission I finished.

This is an interpretation of that customer's spirit guide as they appeared before they died. This is "my style" of art, as they say. I like to do color art too but I finish black and white orders much faster.

Besides art, I'm a lifelong student of 19th century history in America focusing on women's roles, families, social issues, disability history, and LGBTQIA+ history. I was in school to specifically become an antebellum and Civil War historian before chronic illnesses forced me to drop out. Higher education 20+ years ago was a casserole of nonsense when it came to helping disabled students succeed. Don't get me started.

I'm also a lifelong paranormal researcher focusing mostly on hauntings tied to antebellum and Civil War America including old folklore. My mother and grandmother were Missouri folk magic practitioners. I was raised in an understanding of the unseen world. I also collect reincarnation cases from the Civil War period sparked by my own case from that time. I'll talk about that elsewhere if you want.

Follow me here if you like. I'm just getting started. I have to relearn how to use this app.

-Jessica

Shop: etsy.com/shop/ArtByJessicaJewett

If you're not interested in art, I also accept tips if you enjoy my content. I'm at $ArtByJessicaJewett on CashApp, at Jessica-Jones-1002 on Venmo, and PayPal.me/ArtByJessicaJewett on PayPal.

#art #writing #history #commission #portraits #disabled #artbyjessicajewett

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redtsundere-writes · 16 days

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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mmafigther!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader

Part 10. Doubt

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Synopsis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Fighting. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count: 3656 words. A/N: Sorry for not posting this yesterday, my life has been a fucking mess lately, but that's what makes it fun, isn't it? I tried weed for the first time, it helps a lot.

Btw I made a PLAYLIST

Aoi Todo, the champions’ destroyer. In the beginning, he was just another boxer on the big MMA scene. One more rookie among the candidates desperate for a fight. No one seemed to be impressed by his skills until he stepped into the octagon for the first time. Overwhelming victory after victory, climbing steady until he reached the champion of his division, Toji Fushiguro, a feared opponent due to his great career in the UFC. For being 40 years old, he still moved as if his bones were made out of rubber.

The first fight for the title of the heavyweight division was on everyone's mouths, the stakes went through the roof. A complete rookie threatening one of the most talented champions in the industry to take his place. Aoi defeated him on his first attempt by unanimous decision. Toji took it personally so he asked for a rematch that same night and the rest is history.

“Aoi Todo is a strategist by nature, we must plan this fight carefully,” Gojo commented while reading a sports article about our future opponent that Yuuji had found on the internet.

The official Sukuna team was back in the meeting room to plan what we would do to defeat the threat that attempted against the kingdom of the king of the ring. Sukuna couldn't take his eyes off the screen that was playing the last fight Todo had against Toji, the one we watched in the penthouse a month ago.

While he couldn't take his eyes off his opponent, I couldn't stop looking at him. He looked very attractive when he was focused. His crossed arms, his slightly raised eyebrow and his penetrating eyes caught my attention every time. Sometimes I just wanted to come up behind him, hold him against my body and… “What the fuck am I thinking?” I scolded myself, forcing myself to snap back to reality.

I was trying my best to get rid of my feelings towards Sukuna. It was unprofessional, and it was obvious that it wasn’t going anywhere. He still doesn't give me any signs of romantic interest in me, he avoids me when we are in the penthouse sometimes, and he still has his “special sessions” with Shoko. I feel like a fool for getting my hopes up just because he makes me to live with him and gifted me pajamas. It didn't help that I found him attractive long before I met him in person. “Just ignore it and the feeling will go away on its own,” I thought.

“He is a boxer by specialty like Sukuna, it would be best to stay in that area. Gojo will be in charge of training this time,” Nanami wisely recommended, attracting me again to the conversation.

That was good news for me. I would still be in training, but I no longer had to be helicoptering all the time to get him to do floor exercises correctly. Plus, I could watch him train and make mental notes on how to improve my boxing skills for when I make my big comeback to the octagon. It was a unique opportunity to learn from one of the best boxers on the scene.

"That seems fine to me,” I nodded.

"He will not be an easy opponent," Yuuji commented. "Not everyone can send a legend to retirement.”

After the legendary 3 out of 3 fight, Toji Fushiguro officially announced his retirement to the press. He wasn't doing it for Aoi Todo, but because he is already over 40 years old and knows his own bodily limits. In addition, he wanted to give the spotlight to the next generation of fighters, especially his son, whom he will personally train from now on. Which means Megumi had to quit Team Black immediately to return to his father's gym. Yuuji was a bit sad because he won’t see him as often anymore, but they promised to talk to each other daily.

As we left the meeting room, we saw that almost all the members of Team Black were gathered by the entrance, watching as several delivery men left large packages at the lobby. All professionally packaged. Sukuna didn't pay any mind to them and went to train with Gojo so as not to waste time.

"What are they giving away or what?" I asked Yuuji.

"Today is the best day at the gym! Tomorrow is Sukuna's birthday,” he answered with a twinkle in his eye.

I already knew that. For a week I have been looking for the perfect birthday gift for him, but it was more complicated than I thought. When Sukuna wants something, he just buys it without paying attention to the price, an enviable custom. What can you give to someone who can pay for almost anything with their black card?

"Every year he receives hundreds of gifts from sponsors, important gyms and other athletes who want to work with him,” Yuuji explained to me.

When I used to be the champion, I also got gifts like that, but they were 10 or 20, not 80 boxes that you can turn into a tower if you stack them. Yuuji excitedly took my arm to approach the pile.

"But those gifts are for Sukuna, why are we standing in line?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Sukuna never wants their gifts because he says it's a “waste” of space, so he give it to us," Yuuji explained with a smile.

Once the delivery men finished their work, everyone rushed over to the boxes to see what they had inside. Everyone opened the boxes and exchanged the loot depending on what it was. There were expensive sports clothes, top brand protein powders, energy drinks, cutting-edge electronics, flashy watches, leather wallets, etc. It looked like a crazy Black Friday sale.

"Nikes! Good thing I share shoe size with Sukuna," Yuuji commented as he opened a pair of red sneakers with his brother's initials engraved in gold on the heel.

I took one of the boxes that were at the bottom. It had the Adidas logo printed in black all over it. I opened it to take out a black t-shirt with “Ryomen” and the number 1 written on the back. It looked like an average soccer player's jersey. It was size L, so it was too baggy for me, but I could wear it as pajamas.

"What are you going to get him, Yuuji?" I asked him directly while hanging my shirt on my shoulder.

"A compression shirt like every year, Sukuna is a simple man," he answered without giving it much importance.

That was great advice. He always wears neutral-colored clothes, the penthouse has a minimalist style, and he sticks religiously to his routine. His only hobbies are swimming in his large pool and watching old movies at night. He doesn't go out with friends, eat sweets, nor go on dates. If Sukuna wasn't a talented fighter, he would be a very boring man.

Sukuna cornered Yuuji against the ring. His fists flew towards his face, sides, and abdomen. Yuuji raised his gloves towards his face to prevent him from knocking him out. He was among the other fighters who looked up to Sukuna as if he were the new messiah. His posture was perfect, his movements were balanced, and the power of his fists were impressive. My eyes analyzed the position of his feet, the distance between his torso and his fists and the slight curvature of his back.

Yuuji has a love-hate relationship when it comes to training with his brother. He likes training with him because that way they spend more time together, and he learns to fight better, while he hated it because Sukuna never holds back. He treats every training session as if it were a championship fight. Yuuji was hurting inside, but he was doing a good job of holding on. The older one focused on getting the knockout, so Yuuji put his guard up. Bad move. Sukuna changed his strategy mid-move and began to hit him at full power in the abdomen. His little brother doubled over in pain and fell against the floor.

"Son of a bitch, I can’t breathe," Yuuji murmured, taking off his helmet.

"Don't be a crybaby. C’mon, get up," Sukuna asked him, annoyed.

"The crybaby can't fight anymore," Gojo announced. Sukuna sighed exasperatedly.

"Fast. Someone get in the ring.,” the king ordered his subjects.

Since Megumi was not there to replace Yuuji as usual, the fighters looked at each other to see who would be brave enough to go up to face the monster. They all knew that they would face the same fate as Yuuji or worse. Since there were no volunteers, I decided to get into the ring.

"Really?" Sukuna asked me with an evil smile as I helped Yuuji take off his protective gear. He seemed to be in a good mood.

"I can learn a thing or two from you," I said as I put on the protective helmet.

"Aren't you going to hurt yourself?" He scoffed. He spoke as if we were in a showdown at an official weigh-in. Sukuna was trying to intimidate me, but I was going to erase his smile.

"My doctor said that my neck is completely healed, do you know what that means?" I asked him as I put on Yuuji's boxing gloves.

Sukuna and I approach the center to continue training. Sukuna started with a hook to the liver that I evaded with the body. Our feet moved simultaneously, making the canvas squeak.

"Are you going to leave?" He asked me before punching me in the face. I pulled up my gloves to avoid the impact.

"I already told Nanami, I'll leave after the fight and leave you in the hands of another coach," I told him before throwing a hook to his cheek. It didn't connect.

"Who gave you permission to leave?" Sukuna spat, approaching me suddenly.

"Myself," I backed away.

"What if I tripled your salary?" Sukuna hit me on the shoulder.

"It's not about money," I told him once to regain my balance. "I want to return to the octagon and get back my title."

"Are you going to fight or what?" Gojo scolded us with his arms crossed. We talked a lot and fought little.

Sukuna clicked his gloves and launched a killer combo at me. I barely evaded it and went ahead to close the distance, entering his territory abruptly. I threw the best punches I could, but it wasn't enough. I was so used to using my legs to win fights that I felt completely helpless if I could only use my fists. My hooks, jabs, and uppercuts were no match for Sukuna's powerful punches. They were direct and fast. With each blow, my resistance decreased. I could barely stand.

"Coach Gojo, it's time," Shoko asked out loud so we could both hear her. Gojo ended the fight. I was saved by the physiotherapist.

Sukuna pulled himself aside from my body to sigh heavily. I took off the helmet to lighten my body. He took off his gloves without looking at me, he was focused on his thoughts. Maybe processing the news I had given him.

"When I saw you in the ring after beating Naoya, I realized that I miss fighting a lot," I explained as I approached him shyly. What he was going to say next would only be for him. "I want to be like you," I whispered without looking at his face out of embarrassment.

Sukuna’s POV

It's been a couple of months since I've been living with Y/n, and I've learned a few things about her. She is direct, strong, knows what she wants, independent and... she is extremely cute without even trying. She walks around the house in giant shirts that look like short dresses, drags her slippers across the floor in the morning before drinking her coffee, and dances with her headphones on when she thinks no one is watching. How can a girl be so docile but so dangerous at the same time? She was like a cute kitten that can transform into a fierce cheetah in a second.

Little by little, my eyes have been drawn to her daily actions. How gently her hands move when putting on another fighter's boxing gloves, how his eyes move quickly when analyzing me from head to toe and how she pulls hair away from her face, tucking her unruly hair behind her ear. I would like to stop time, so I could admire her all as long as I wanted. I was starting to like her, but there was a problem…

"Do you think Choso and Y/n make a cute couple?" Yuuji asked me through the phone.

I removed the wet towel from my face to look at him through the camera with a frown. The hot water caressed my skin, the bubbles reflected my profile in a blurry way and the flame of the aromatic candle moved subtly. It was a great evening in the comfort of my tub, but Yuuji seemed to be in the mood to ruin it.

"What the hell is that question?" I scoffed.

"Do you want to know what Choso just told me?" Yuuji asked me while raising his eyebrows.

"Someday they are going to kill you for gossiping". I sighed in annoyance. My little brother is a good guy, but he often shares things that he shouldn’t. That's why I prefer to keep my thoughts to myself instead of telling him.

"It is not gossip, it called being informed," he defended himself. "But you really want to know this. Maybe your relationship with Choso will get better soon.”

Since we were kids, Choso and Yuuji have followed me like loyal soldiers. They accompanied me anywhere at any time, we were the powerful Ryomen trio for as long as I could remember... until that blonde bitch decided to ruin everything with her poisonous presence. Every time I think about what happened, my head hurts. I miss having Choso in my life, but I wasn't going to beg him to come back. It's not my fault he doesn’t want to believe the truth.

"Choso told me that Y/n would call him when she's the protector again. Basically she confessed to him!” Itadori exclaimed excitedly.

I closed my eyes and put the warm towel back on my face. I knew Y/n liked Choso since I saw it in her eyes when we were at the bar after my victory against Fushiguro, but I didn't see Choso as in love as he was with the unmentionable. Maybe it was because I was constantly seeing them, Choso tends to get nervous easily.

When Yuuji first told me, I didn't give a damn, but I overlooked one small detail. “…when I'm the protector again” What the fuck that’s supposed to mean? Did she perhaps believe she was a superhero, chosen by God or a WWE wrestler? I thought it was an weeb joke between them or something, but I was wrong.

"When I saw you in the ring after beating Naoya, I realized that I miss fighting a lot," Y/n approached me without looking at me, her eyes looking at the floor. It was strange to see her act so shy. "I want to be like you," she whispered so that only I could hear her.

My heart skipped a beat in confusion. I knew this would happen one day. She would be leaving soon. I didn't know whether to be offended or flattered by her words. Did she really have to tell me something as cheesy as that? She is the only coach capable enough to teach me how to do floor techniques, the only one who makes me give my 110%, the only one who pays attention to the details and makes sure I achieve perfection. I couldn't lose the only coach who tolerates my attitude.

But he knew he couldn't stop her. He is a free and wild soul, he will always do whatever he wants. There was nothing to fight if he had already made a decision,I knew it why she is similar to me in that aspect. She is a champion before being my coach. If the world doesn't move, she will move it.

"That's why I want to ask you to let me train with you," she bowed in respect. It was a sight worth capturing in my mind and admiring.

"I'm not going to be nice just because you're my coach," I warned her.

"I didn't expect you to be," she told me with a smile. Y/n looked relieved for some reason.

"We start tomorrow," I told him before leaving with Shoko to the therapy room. The last thing I saw when I looked back was her sweet smile that her lips let escape thinking I wasn’t looking.

The fucking alarm woke me up at 5 in the morning as always. I turned it off with a smack and sat on the edge of the bed to fully wake up. I checked my phone and the screen was flooded with happy birthday messages that people had sent me since midnight. I threw the phone on the other side of the bed to go get some breakfast.

The crash of a metal pot caught my attention. I peeked into the kitchen expecting to see the cook, instead I found Y/n in front of the stove wearing an oversized t-shirt with my last name on the back and her hair in a messy ponytail. My eyes couldn't help but roam the length of her legs. I knew she was wearing shorts, but the length of the shirt made it look like she wasn't. It was like she was my girlfriend wearing one of my t-shirts. My face flushed at the thought. “Shit, my last name looks great on her,” I thought.

"Good morning, birthday boy," she greeted me upon realizing my existence.

"And Mrs. Kim?" I asked her as I looked over to see what she was preparing, pretending that I hadn't spent a good time looking at her. On the stove there was an egg white omelet with spinach, the toaster had a couple of breads and in the blender a green juice.

"I told her to take the day off. I will be your cook today, that will be my birthday gift,” she responded with a smile.

"And this shirt?" I asked pinching the fabric.

"Adidas I sent it to you, but since you don't want it, I kept it,” she answered without further ado.

“Well, she looks better than me,” I thought, looking at her thighs when she wasn’t looking.

While we were having breakfast, the doorbell rang. Y/n went to see who it was, there were 4 delivery men ready to delivery more boxes full of gifts. By winning 2 consecutive championship fights, sponsor gifts tripled. Y/n watched open-mouthed as the gifts continued to accumulate at the entrance. All this was a nuisance.

“More garbage,” I huffed once the mailmen left. “Take care of this," I ordered Y/n before I left to get ready to go to the gym.

"Why me?” she wondered, offended.

"I don't have time to send everything to the gym," I answered without paying attention.

"But I'll be late for training!" She exclaimed annoyed.

"So what? We don’t need you much,” I answered with a mischievous smile, I knew that answer would upset her.

"Sukuna!" She squealed in annoyance once I locked myself in my room.

End of Sukuna’s POV

I made myself a cup of coffee to start opening the boxes and putting the gifts in plastic bags so it would be easier to transport to the gym. I sat on the floor to carefully dissect each box. Backpacks, accessories, and hundreds of special socks for athletes. I felt like a little girl opening presents on a crazy Christmas morning.

I opened a box that felt extremely light. Inside was a small red leather box with the Cartier brand engraved in gold. It seemed to be really expensive. Inside was a thin gold chain with a pendant with the initials “S R” engraved on it. Quickly notice that there was a note taped to the cover. This gift wasn't like the others, it gave off a more personal vibe. My curiosity got the best of me and I opened the note.

"Happy Birthday. I hope you take advantage of this.” -Yuki

"I'm leaving," Sukuna caught my attention.

"Wait!" I exclaimed before he opened the door. If this was a special gift for him, I'll have him wear it. "This bracelet will look great on you," I grabbed his left hand to put it on his veiny wrist.

"I don't like bracelets,” He released his hand from my grip and took it away.

I was going to tell him that it was from someone called Yuki, but when he grabbed my hand, my brain went blank. His large, veined hand held mine, so I wouldn't move it. His fingers brushed my skin and I could barely breathe. My heart was beating a mile an hour and I didn't know how to react.

"It looks better on you," he said before turning the chain so that he could see the initials on it. "Matches with your shirt," He winked at me and disappeared through the door.

He closed the door and left me with my mouth on the floor. Did I dream, imagine or wish it? Sukuna had bewitched me with a spell I didn't know existed. I looked at the thin gold chain decorating my wrist in disbelief. It jingled when I turned it to read and saw the engraving again that shone in the light. Sukuna, what does this mean? I don't want to get hurt again.

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mari-writes · 5 months

Text

Akaashi Keiji has a secret. One that he’s sure people might be surprised by if they found out.

He has a deep, prevailing love for classical ballet. He’s not sure when it started. Perhaps when his parents took him to a Nutcracker performance when he was barely eight years old. To this day, he spends hours of his free time watching videos online, and reads about the history of the art form. He even convinces his mother to take him to see live performances on occasion.

There's something so romantic and expressive about dancing. The way the dancers can convey emotion through their body, with no words at all—it’s absolutely fascinating. Keiji admires them so much. He wishes he could be like that.

He doesn’t tell anyone. He’s not ashamed, just cautious. Dance should not be a gendered interest, but alas, society is strange. His friends and most of his teammates already know he’s gay. No need to push the stereotype further, right?

What he doesn’t predict is that his best friend (and secret crush), Bokuto Koutarou, is apparently also a fan.

“Akaashi!” The older boy exclaims, right over his shoulder. “Is that the Australian Ballet?”

Keiji flinches, scrambling to switch off his phone. “Bokuto-san,” he scowls, “it’s very rude to eavesdrop.”

“Oh, sorry!” Koutarou plops down next to him. Their futons are close, much too close, and Keiji can smell his mint shampoo. It’s distracting. “But seriously, is it?”

Keiji shoots a nervous look around. Most of the training camp attendees are either taking turns in the bath or wandering around campus, enjoying the warm evening. Only Komi is here, casually lounging with a magazine on the other side of the room. “Ah, um, yes,” he nods. “You’re familiar with ballet, Bokuto-san?”

The other boy nods enthusiastically. “My sister does it! My other sister and I tried it when we were younger, too!”

Surprised, Keiji stares. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah! I still do exercises I learned back then. It’s good for flexibility and to strengthen muscles. People don’t know how much of a workout ballet is! It’s really hard.”

Again Keiji nods, awkwardly shuffling on his futon so that he and Koutarou are sitting thigh-to-thigh. “Would you… like to watch the rest of this with me, Bokuto-san?”

Koutarou answers with a beaming smile.

They make it a habit of watching dance videos together. Koutarou is surprisingly knowledgable about the different companies, even mentioning specific dancers and performances. It’s odd, only because he never watches or talk about it otherwise. Perhaps he’s shy about his interest, too?

It isn’t until one evening, when Koutarou is staying the night at his house, that he discovers the truth.

Keiji is eager to show his crush the souvenir program her purchased after seeing a performance of La Sylphide two years ago. He carefully passes it to Koutarou, wondering if the other boy will be surprised, or maybe even jealous that Keiji was able to attend such a special, sold-out show.

But instead—

“Oh! My sister was in this!”

Keiji freezes. He turns slowly to look at his friend, unsure if he heard correctly. “What?”

“Yeah, she was made principal ballerina that year!”

Keiji frowns. “Your sister… performed with the National Ballet of Japan?”

“Yeah!” Koutarou grins. “She was there for two years, until she went overseas. I miss her so much.”

“Wait a minute.” Keiji is having trouble trusting his own ears. Because it sounds like Koutarou is insinuating… but no, that can’t be it. Can it? Suddenly frantic, he flips through the program, until he find the cast profiles. He leans in to look at the lead female dancer. A familiar face in the modern ballet scene. He blinks, turning to look at Koutarou, and then back at the woman on the page.

Intense golden eyes. A wide, toothy smile. Silvery hair, with just a hint of black at the roots. “Bokuto-san,” he croaks, “is your sister… Bokuto Kai?”

Koutarou chuckles. “Well, yeah! That’s my Kai! Isn’t she so cool?”

Keiji chokes on nothing. He sputters, enough for his friend to reach over and pat his back consolingly.

“You okay, ‘kaashi?”

Is he okay? Keiji doesn’t know. The fact that his best friend’s sister is one of the most well-known ballet dancers in Japan, the world even, is actively shifting his reality.

“So… I guess you’re a fan?” Koutarou smiles in obvious amusement.

“Y-yes,” Keiji admits, thoroughly shaken. “I am. She’s incredible.”

One year later, Keiji is standing frozen in the threshold of his now-boyfriend, Koutarou’s family home. He’s been here many times, and spent time with most of the family. But the person at the door is not anyone he’s met before.

But oh, he knows her well.

“Ah, you must be Akaashi!” Kai Bokuto is short, the crown of her head barely reaching Keiji’s shoulders, but her immaculate posture seems to expand her presence. She’s wearing a cotton hoodie and leggings, her silver hair tossed over one shoulder in a long braid.

She’s a vision.

Keiji’s mouth drops open. He blinks. “B-Bokuto-san, um, hi! Hello there. You… um, I… well...” His words stumble out of him like dominos. He’s never felt so inarticulate in his entire life.

Kai laughs. “Please, call me Kai! I’ve heard so much about you. Come in, Keiji-kun!”

When Keiji finds his boyfriend inside, he greets him with a light punch to the shoulder. “You could have warned me she was here,” he hisses, “I just made a fool of myself.”

Koutarou snorts. “You’re such a fanboy!”

“Shut it.”

It turns out, Kai and Keiji have a lot more in common than a love for ballet. Both of them love literature, poetry and art history. Kai regales him with stories of her time in Europe—including her recent stint in Paris, thes city Keiji wants to visit more than anything.

They also happen to be quite protective of Koutarou.

“He’s very important to me,” she says, as they watch Keiji’s boyfriend hurry to help his mother in the kitchen. “He means the world to all of us, really. It doesn’t matter how tall or strong he gets—he’ll still be our baby Kou.”

Keiji grins softly. “Yeah.”

They exchange numbers that first night, and stay in touch when Kai flies back to France for her next set of performances. She regularly sends him photos, poems, news articles, and of course, updates on the Parisian ballet scene. They ask each other advice on outfits and home design.

“Ya know, I’m starting to think you like her more than me,” Koutarou pouts, one morning when they are curled up in Keiji’s tiny dorm bed.

“Are you jealous?” Keiji raises one eyebrow.

“Hmm,” Koutarou hums, “maybe a little…”

Giggling, Keiji turns in his hold, leaning up to touch noses. “Don’t worry, love. You’ll always be my number one star.” The comment seems to light a fire in Koutarou, whose face splits into a brilliant smile as he pulls Keiji in tighter. “Promise?”

Keiji smiles back. “Always.”

I love the idea that Keiji gets along great with Koutarou’s sisters, and admires them (almost) as much as his boyfriend. The idea for Kai being a ballerina was inspired by the beautiful artwork of Temari! I just can’t get the idea out of my mind.

Please, if you enjoyed this, reblog and comment! It really helps me out. 🥰❤️

#bokuaka #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #my writing #writing #drabble #bokuto sisters #ficlet #oneshot #haikyuu!!#haikyuu

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theromaboo · 2 months

Text

The First Day of Julius Caesar

Hello and welcome to the first day of my series! I choose to start not with a common misconception, but with a personal story that includes a very uncommon misconception that was all my fault. I thought it would fun to start things off.

When I was in eighth grade, I was a fan of Julian the Apostate. It was definitely because I went to a Catholic school while I disliked Catholicism. Young me was like "Omg I relate so much to Julian the Apostate!!"

(nowadays I feel quite embarrassed by my Julian the Apostate phase)

Anyway, I was in religion class and I was explaining Julian the Apostate to my religion teacher (as if a Catholic religion teacher would like him). Suddenly and to my utmost surprise, she was like "I know that person! He is my favourite historical figure!"

I had not expected the average person to know about Julian the Apostate, but I guessed that my religion teacher, as part of her training, had to learn about the religious history of Rome and that's where she learned about him.

My guess turned out to be very wrong. The more my religion teacher talked about him, the more I started to realise that we were not talking about the same person. Because Julian the Apostate definitely had nothing to do with the Julian Calendar or alea iacta est or the Ides of March and uh oh my religion teacher got him confused with Julius Caesar!

I was so baffled and embarrassed on her behalf that I didn't correct her. I never saw her again after eighth grade, so for all I know, her favourite historical figure might still be Julian the Apostate, the last pagan Roman emperor who was very influential in the end of the Roman Republic.

I'm actually quite concerned for her, because she was definitely a Julius Caesar fan in all the wrong ways, if you get what I mean. Which was made even worse by the fact that she was a religion teacher! I don't think Jesus would've been a Julius Caesar fan in that way. Actually, I don't think Jesus would've been a Julius Caesar fan, period.

Moral of the story, Julian the Apostate is NOT to be confused with Julius Caesar. One is named Flavius Claudius Julianus and the other one is named Gaius Julius Caesar. One lived, laughed, loved during the fourth century AD and the other lived, laughed, loved during the first century BC.

Don't be like this. And don't be like me either, who didn't correct my religion teacher out of embarrassment. I am making this series to undo the harm I caused that day haha.

I have a special interest in ancient Rome, and not a PhD. I am just some random Canadian teenager. I will try my best to be as historically accurate as I can in this series, but I'm human (and nothing human is alien to me) and I can make mistakes. Don't see anything I say as infallible, okay? And feel free to correct me. After all, this series is about correcting mistakes.

Thank you and I'll see you tomorrow with some actually common misconceptions about Julius Caesar!

#ancient rome #julius caesar #ides of march #the 15 days of julius caesar #julian the apostate

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lloydfrontera · 4 months

Note

You know, regarding Lloyd's achievement in history and whether ordinary citizens know him or not made me crave post canon modern au.

Imagine seeing an in universe fanfic authors notes in ao3 or twitter crying about how they simply wanted to write a story set in Lloys time but they just keep diving into rabbit holes.

Kinda like

"So i was writing an historical au set in Alician era where the MC had a detour in Cremo and he was admiring a statue by the sea with a local explaining its history. Of course, I needed to do some research only to found out that Lloyd Frontera, YES, THAT Lloyd Frontera who made the Pantara railroad defeated some sea monster, nearly died and got statue for it"

Maybe someone from Beneto Kingdom being so confused because all he learned from history in school (Beneto history) is that Lloyd is just some brilliant engineer so he got specially confused on why in the movie he was watching set in Alician era is Lloyd fighting a goddamn bone dragon.

I'm interested on how scholars and political figures bemoan and analyse Lloyd's action and achievement but ordinary people's Internet discourse could be so much fun as well.

Javier and Lloyd getting the Alexander and Haphaestion treatment on whether they were lovers or not. The discourse would be so toxic lol.

oh my god forget changing the history of civil engineering forever, sparking the nastiest discourse ever on history/fandom internet forums is lloyd's true greatest achievement akshfksdg

he's the go to historical domain character used to set the time period for a historical movie/book/series. he's the guy writers insert to give their work a more period accurate vibe. everyone knows just enough about him to make really passionate history nerds very angry about all the inaccuracies and made up facts that are taken as common knowledge.

i'm thinking people of completely different online circles all knowing about lloyd in some capacity but regarding completely separate facets of his life and work and being so surprised when they accidentally find yet another whole field lloyd revolutionized. like.

a sword nerd who's really into the concept of the asrahan core technique and knows perfectly well that lloyd helped invent it getting gobsmacked about the fact that's the same guy that laid the ground for modern sewer systems.

a fan of historical romance stories who is used to seeing lloyd as a fun cameo in the background of stories set in the alician period being really confused when they open their book on thermodynamics and see there's a whole chapter dedicated to a method lloyd figured out to create ice without the need of magic.

a train enthusiast who is really fascinated by the rudimentary switchback system lloyd frontera implemented when the concept of a train wasn't even known in the empire being completely dumbfounded when their friends invite them to see a movie about that one time lloyd frontera and his knight defeated a knight of hell in namaran.

i think it's definitely a meme to post "so i was doing research for my asfahan au and went on a rabbit hole and guess who fucking built the qanat that's widely regarded as the only reason the kingdom didn't fall into civil war. take a wild fucking guess" "was it lloyd frontera" "IT WAS FUCKING LLOYD FRONTERA OF COURSE IT WAS"

i'm also certain there would be some guys who think he's overrated and people should really stop talking so much about him when there's so many other historical figures who are just as interesting and not as recognized 🙄. to which people immediately go "mad cause your history blorbo didn't defeat a bone dragon aren't you" at them

Javier and Lloyd getting the Alexander and Haphaestion treatment on whether they were lovers or not. The discourse would be so toxic lol.

they definitely get the alexander and hephaestion treatment you are so correct. they're also the achilles and patroclus of the modern magentano girlies. there's a bunch of 'queer retellings' of their lives. they're the go to example for homoerotic friendships. there's a bunch of edits that mix historical paintings of them with ship fanart with that 'history hates lovers' song playing over them. dudebros get really angry about it. llojavi truthers pull out their 20 pages long annotations that start with "they fucking slept in the same bedroom for years" and it only gets worse.

there's one poor person online who just really fucking wants to know how and why lloyd frontera changed faces one day out of the blue with no one ever explaining it. there's no official records. no member of the royal family ever made a statement about it. why is everyone acting like the frontera family didn't have one eldest son for 25-29 years and one day suddenly had a completely different one. what the fuck is going on.

so. yeah. i'm a little obsessed with this concept actually ajkshdksa

#hey i got an ask #myfracturedlife #tged #the greatest estate developer #lloyd frontera #llojavi #<- i guess??

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mirai-e-jump · 1 month

Text

Masato Yano Photobook: TONE (translations and select pages below)

Publication: March 15, 2024

Masato Yano's 132 Q&A About 13 years ago, "Masato Yano's Style Photobook" was published with a Q&A. Now, a 32 year old Masato Yano answers nearly the same questions again.

1) What's your nickname? Yanocchi, Masanii, Masati

2) When were you born? December 16, 1991

3) What's your blood type? Type B

4) Your zodiac sign? Sagittarius

5) What size family are you from? I come from a family of 4

6) How tall are you? 173cm

7) Your shoe size? 26.5cm

8) What are some of your strengths? My jokes

9) How do you spend your days off? I'll drink the night before, go to the gym

10) What subjects were you worst at? Math and history

11) What are your favorite foods? Sushi and tsukemen

12) What's your assessment of your own personality? I'm easily obsessive and bored. I'm actually shy, but I'm trying my best so you don't think that way (laughs)

13) What are some of your weaknesses? I'm not good at remembering things like people's birthdays or names

14) What are you proud of? That I made my debut in "Shintokumaru"

15) What's your favorite color? Red and white

16) What type of woman do you like? Someone with a good core, someone who eats beautifully

17) What instruments can you play? None

18) What's your special skill? That I can guess who someone is just by their voice

19) What's your best feature? My double eyelids

20) What do you wish would disappear from the world? War

21) The first impressions that are often said about you? That I look scary

22) The person that you respect? Tsumabuki Satoshi-san and Fujiwara Tatsuya-san

23) What do you have a habit of saying? "~nanoyo" and "oh no"

24) Your least favorite type? Someone who only talks about themself

25) What's your treasure? The wallet I received from Tsumabuki-san

26) The ideal self that you desire to be? I want to be liked by many people

27) What's your "theme song"? Recently it's been that I'm the "most powerful king"

28) Your favorite artists? WATWING, the Carpenters, Eric Clapton, GENERATIONS

29) What do you do when you first wake up in the morning? Put on my glasses

30) What do you do right before bed? Put on the radio

31) What habits do you do unconsciously? Touch my nose, do things like suck on the end of a straw

32) What do you usually perform at karaoke? I tend to sing alot by SMAP

33) What foods do you not like? Shiitake mushrooms

34) What's your favorite thing to drink? Mets Grapefruit

35) What was the first CD you ever bought? Jet Coaster Romance by KinKi Kids

36) What do you like to watch and what's your favorite anime? Great Pretender, soccer games

37) How long does it take for you to bathe? 1 hour

38) What's your favorite season? I don't do well with heat

39) When do your emotions become intense? They don't

40) What are your hobbies? Muscle training

41) Do you cry easily? When I feel like it

42) Do you have a pet? What's it's name? I had one. It was a cat named Chaco

43) How many children do you want? I want two. A boy and a girl

44) What's the first thing you look at when entering a convenience store? The bento corner

45) What do you usually buy from a convenience store? Water and spicy ramen

46) What really makes you angry? Nothing much

47) What's the number one thing you want right now? Muscles! (laughs)

48) What have you been secretly interested in recently? The Korean language

49) What's the one thing you'd take to a deserted island? A lighter

50) How do you relax at home? Burn incense and listen to some records

51) What's necessary for world peace? Love

52) What do you wonder about? Why is there a Ladies Day, but not a Men's Day?

53) What would you do if the world ended today? I'd overdo things as usual

54) S? M? I wouldn't say I'm an M💦

55) What's your phone background? Currently it's King-Ohger (for the past 2 months)

56) What animal would you compare yourself to? Some kind of reptilian I guess

57) What are you into these days? Cilantro

58) What do you like to collect? Miniature food sets

59) What's your favorite scent? White musk types, Savon by SHIRO

60) What's something expensive that you bought recently? A vintage varsity jacket

61) How often do you go out shopping? At the very least I go out once a month

62) Can you cook? I do it often

63) What kind of present would you be happy to get from a friend? I'd be happy with anything

64) What would make a girl happy if you gave her a present? Aesop

65) What's your fetish? Legs

66) What would the ideal confession be? Saying it on the way back home after going out for meals a few times

67) At what age do you want to marry by? Hopefully by 40 (laughs)

68) What's something good you do for your body? I go to the gym

69) What's something you always have on you? Chapstick

70) What's the ideal spot for a date? A buffet

71) Which do you prefer? The sea or the mountains? Both the sea and mountains have alot of bugs

72) What scares you? Roller coasters, horror, cockroaches

73) When does your excitement rise? When my work goes well

74) What's your favorite place? Home

75) What's your favorite store? It's a secret ❤️

76) Are you a meat eater? Vegetarian? Are you a fan of cabbage rolls? I eat bugs

77) What's your favorite onigiri topping? Salmon roe

78) What do you usually get at a cafe? I don't go to cafes

79) What's something tasty you've eaten recently? The umeboshi Fukuyama-kun gave me

80) What have you been paranoid about recently? That a big earthquake will hit Tokyo

81) Where do you start washing your body from? My head

82) What's your favorite type of fashion? Things that give off an "American casual" feel

83) At what moment do you fall in love with someone? Sometimes it's not really apparent

84) What words make you happy to hear? "Your performance was good"

85) What's your favorite movie? Grave of the Fireflies

86) What person do you really want to meet right now? Ninagawa-san

87) What's something that's alittle luxurious? Sushi that doesn't come from a conveyor belt

88) How would you describe yourself with a single (kanji) character? "Think," because no matter what I do or say, I have alot to think about.

89) How long does it take you to get up in the morning and leave your house? On a work day it takes 20 minutes. I usually don't go out on my days off (laughs)

90) What changes your mood? When I'm left out

91) What would you consider (if they did) to be cheating on you? If they did a deep kiss (laughs)

92) Are you sensitive to the heat? To the cold? I don't like either

93) Emails or phone calls, which is better? Writing is best

94) What do you frequently use on your phone? Instagram, Twitter, Uber

95) How old were you when you first fell in love? What kind of person were they? It was a kid who lived in my neighborhood when I was in my second year of elementary school.

96) What gestures do women do that make you feel excited? When they put their hair behind one ear

97) Are you enjoying work right now? I want to have fun (laughs)

98) What's your favorite TV program? Programs that only feature comedians

99) What's your favorite sport? Soccer

100) What's your least favorite sport? Baseball

101) Are you the type of person who likes park rides that cause you to scream? I don't do well with them, but if I'm asked to ride one, I will (laughs)

102) Are you good at athletics? I think I'm a good at it

103) What do you take photos of? Tsukemen and sushi

104) What's your favorite flower? Gerbera

105) What's your favorite event of the year? It's New Year's Eve, I'll have a party with my friends and we'll eat alot

106) What's your top 3 favorite stalls at a festival? Beef skewers is #3, grilled squid is #2, okonomiyaki is #1

107) What was your most stressful experience? Performing on opening day for Shintokumaru

108) Your favorite donburi? Beef bowl

109) Are you good with your hands? I wonder~?

110) How long do you sleep in a day? About 3-7 hours. I sleep alot longer on days when I don't work

111) Is your sleeping position good? I think it's okay

112) What's your favorite ramen? I love tsukemen. I have a "cat's tongue" though

113) What color would you compare yourself to? Purple

114) Do you like scary stories? I don't like them in any way (laughs)

115) What subjects were you best at? Gym and art

116) What club activities were you involved in? The soccer club in middle school and the dance club in high school

117) If you were reborn, would you rather be male or female? I'd still want to be male

118) What part time jobs have you had? A bread factory, an Izakaya, a festival stall

119) What do you want to do when you're 40? Meet fans at events

120) What were your favorite school lunches? Nanbanzuke, meat sauce

121) Have you ever seen a ghost? I might've (laughs)

122) What's something you'd like to try that you've never experienced before? Travel overseas

123) Where would you like to take a trip to? Hot springs, Korea, Italy

124) What's your favorite ride at an amusement park? The exploration based ones

125) How many times in one day do you send emails? Currently, I exchange about 30-50 LINE's a day

126) Were you the type of person who finished their Summer homework early? I always felt like I was rushing to finish it at the last second💦

127) Are you more likely to arrive early for a meet up? Or do you arrive late? For work I'm early, in my private life I'm late

128) If you want to go out with someone, how many years older are you okay with? I've never thought about it in terms of age

129) What's an essential item you need when traveling? Earphones

130) What do you do when you can't sleep at night? There are so many things that I'll just give up. I actually thought about this questionnaire when I couldn't sleep (laughs)

131) What do you think about while brushing your teeth? I imagine that there's red paint on my teeth, and then I'll imagine how I have to get it off

132) If you only had one week left to live, what would you do? I'd eat a bunch of the foods I like. I'd meet up with the people I like as much as possible. I'd leave a secret audio farewell message for everyone

#smap and kinki kids...yano-chan my king 🤝#some of these questions though 💀#toku cast #ohsama sentai kingohger #kingohger #super sentai #masato yano #yano masato #racules husty #racles husty #my scans #my translation #ohsama sentai king ohger #king ohger #toku cast pb #as a personal photobook I didn't want to scan all pages #I just did a few of my favorites #note: I misunderstood the context to one question #please check the notes

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