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taeyohonic · 5 years ago

Text

with wuff

summary: you are definitely not a dog. so, why is the infamous kim taehyung scratching you behind the ear? alternatively, due to misfortune you wake up in kim yeontan’s body.

pairing: kim taehyung x reader

genre: 88% crack, 12 % fluff

warning: this is not a warning – just a plea for forgiveness. i mayyyhaps wanted to write a hybrid piece because there’s a pretty awesome network being build. and then this idea stuck with me. which is not a hybrid story. of course. dana can’t do anything right. no dogs were harmed during the writing process. yeontan is happily sipping doggy-margaritas while the reader is ascending to madness. There is no form of bestiality of any kind. (didn’t know if I had to actually say that, but… better safe than sorry); there are some swear words!

words: 6k

There is no way this is really happening. No fucking way. This can’t be real. You must have gone mad. Or died. Oh no, your mother will be devastated. Your family does not have enough money to pay for a funeral let alone a psychiatrist. No, there is no way you’re staring at Kim Taehyung’s eyes.

“Ya, Tannie… what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost”, he asks and looks at you. What is happening? You want to question or even shake the idol in front of you, but all you can hear is a… bark?

What. The. Hell, you think and title your head to the side. Taehyung copies your movement and crouches down lower.

“Baby, talk to me!”, he whines. Yeah, you’ve gone insane. The hospital bills will put even your brother’s son’s children in debt.

You try to suppress a sniffle as you can feel your eyes water.

“No, no, no, no, no”, the idol cries and falls completely to the floor. His hands touch your fur while he whispers calming words into your ear.

“I'll only be gone for two hours”, he starts to bargain with you, “three hours tops!” Now he is scratching a sensitive spot right under your ear and all your emotions shortcut.

Taehyung looks at you with a knowing smirk on his lips and continues to give you pets.

“And I’ll even bring you back some strawberries”, he adds. After a moment of silence the idol backtracks. “Obviously we’d have to share.”

“Don’t look at me like that, Tannie. Sharing is caring”, Taehyung says and retreats his hand before standing up. You whine.

“Don’t you looooove me like I love you?”, he sings as he moves around the room. There is a branded gym bag on the ground which he slings over his shoulder. Then the man stares down at you.

“No?”, he asks and gives you a pout. “Even though I’d share hyung’s strawberries with you?”

You can only stare at the idol as he steps closer to the door. After he puts his right hand on the handle, his other clutches his heart in mock pain.

“Boy, you’re giving me whiplash with your mood swings. If you’re keeping this up, we’ll be in couples therapy in no time.”

You can’t move a muscle as you watch him leave. There are some movements, keys jiggling and then you hear a front door open.

“Hah, Jin would have a filled day with that… me and my dog sitting on a couch discussing our relationship”, you hear him chuckle and then the sound of a door closing follows.

You don’t know how long you’re staring at the wall – it could have been hours. But after the first shock leaves your bones you take a deep breath and look down… at your paws.

Ah, freakedy frack, what the hell? With tiny steps you move around the room; glad that Taehyung has left the door open. Soon one can hear your claws tapping on the granite floor. You’re not sure where to find what you are looking for. But your path takes you directly to your destination – a floor-length mirror.

Before you can chicken out, you face yourself… only to stare at Yeontan, Taehyung’s famous pomeranian. You scream but all you hear is a loud bark.

Jep, you’ve gone insane, you think and shift in front of the reflection. The dog’s eyes look just as frightened as you feel. Which – you guess – makes sense. The dog is you.

Maybe you’re just asleep. Yeah, that’s it! Why would you jump to the conclusion of death or insanity? You’re just not awake. Of course, maybe you fell asleep during a RUN marathon and your laptop is slowly overheating while you drool on your touchpad. Man, your neck will hurt like hell tomorrow.

You nod at Yeontan in the mirror as the fear leaves his eyes. You’re quite a bit ashamed of yourself while you retreat to the room you came from. Due to your height the view is limited but with a craned neck you make out a soft bed, a desk overflowing with energy drinks and scribbled papers, and a dark wooden dresser. This must be Taehyung’s bedroom, you think.

The shame you felt moments ago is now mixed with embarrassment as you lay down in front of his bed. Yeah, this is just a dream, but it’s still really creepy of dream-you to come up with this scenario. Haven’t you heard anything about privacy? This is as close as one can come to being a sasaeng, you scold yourself. As soon as morning comes, you will have a serious talk with yourself. Maybe you’ll have to do a BTS detox. Yeah, a week without checking their Twitter will do you good.

Now all you have to do is sleep in your dream, so you’ll wake up with human hands. Wow, the bar is very low, you chuckle and close your eyes.

You awake with a confused yap leaving your mouth as you loose the ground under your body. Your eyes fly up and meet Taehyung’s stare. He looks deep in thoughts and places you onto the soft mattress of his bed.

“Why are you on the floor, Tannie?”, he asks with worry and fluffs the pillows next to you. “Why do I get the feeling you’re really, really mad at me?”

All you do is stare up at the idol who you’ve worshiped for close to five years. His hair is a cerulean blue and you try to remember the last pictures you saw of him – didn’t he have dark hair then? He must have recently dyed his hair, you think. The vibrant color suits him, his soft curls shifting lively while Taehyung walks up to his desk.

“The ground can’t be comfortable, baby”, he says and organizes some of the scattered papers. After that he begins to stack the empty cans of taurine; you count five of them and can’t help the shake of your head when Taehyung himself looks proud of his accomplishment. Doesn’t he know how unhealthy energy drinks are?

Soon he walks back to you – some of the papers in his hands – and sits down right next to your figure. The man places the sheets behind him before he pets your head.

“What did I do, baby?”, he whines as he doesn’t get the reaction he expected. Taehyung didn’t do anything wrong; you are the fault in this moment. You – a fellow 95-liner, an ARMY, a Yoongi stan, a hard-working university student – are definitely not his dog. But you can’t deny the pleasure sparked by his soft touch. You can feel his fingers moving through your thick fur. You are so going to hell for this, you think as you begin to hum.

The idol chuckles and continues his pets and you begin to enjoy every rub of your ears. You don’t notice the movement at first, but soon you feel the warmth of his tights. You must have shifted closer to his person while he continues to praise you with words and touches. Now, you are neatly pressed against his shorts and Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to pick you up and drop you on his lap.

“There, that’s better than the cold floor, right?”, he says and you squirm a bit while you try to get into a comfortable position on his tights. Much like you’d imagined, the idol has a defined body, so his quads present you with a firm ground to lay down.

Still, you long for the floor just so you don’t have to feel the shame traveling across your body. You’re not going to hell for this, not even the devil will want such a freak in his midst. But as you look into Taehyung’s dark eyes you can’t bring yourself to jump off his lap. His iris is lit with content while he watches your slow breathing. He is excited to have you – his pup – close to him.

So, this is not a dream, you conclude. Which dream would have a napping sequence within? And not to mention how real his body feels underneath you. You try to eliminate any chances as you try to bite yourself in the paw. Ouch, you whine with a throaty whimper.

“What are you doing, Yeontan?”, Taehyung exclaims in surprise. He moves your nose away with one hand while he cradles your assaulted paw in his other. The idol inspects your leg with care and crouches down. His stomach is now pressed against your back as you feel his hair right next to your ear. It tickles you, but at the same time the strong scent of his shampoo that invades your nose calms you down fast. The thick odor of roses is all consuming as you begin to understand why dogs are used during drug searches. Their scenting ability is freighting incredible. You can’t help the whimper that escapes your mouth as you press your face against his soft hair.

His curls smell like security and you try to get closer to his hairline while Taehyung is still trying to examine the damage.

“Don’t hurt yourself, baby”, he scolds you and turns his head so he can kiss your black fur. Now that you can look directly in his eyes you feel lost in the depth of their color.

All you manage to do is nod your head in a nonverbal promise. Taehyung smiles at your obedience and places a second kiss right behind your ear. This must be a pretty vulnerable spot for his pup because you can’t help but close your eyes in bliss.

So, this is definitely not a dream; maybe this is some unnatural body switch. But even as you think about it you can’t imagine Yeontan waking up in your human body. He sure is smart, but surviving a pre-med class? Or dear god, even driving to university would be a nightmare as you imagine the cute pomeranian behind a wheel.

But what happened to Taehyung’s dog if you’re right now cuddling up to his owner? Did you… did you eliminate a poor puppy? No, you think as you can feel your tiny heart beating abnormally fast. There is no way that Yeontan is not safe and sound somewhere.

The idol notices your anxiety and holds you tighter. You try to think of a more helpful strategy instead of imagining the infamous dog sitting somewhere dark, all alone. No, you’ll focus on getting out of this situation. And that means getting more information, any kind as to the date.

You didn’t travel space, body and time, you decide while your stare is fixated on his bright hair color. You distinctly remember him with faded blondish strands the last time you saw airport pictures at the beginning of the week. And there is no way in hell you would have missed such a… vibrant phase of Taehyung’s hair evolution. Even though he is not your bias, his appearance is always such a sight.

You mean you’re imprisoned in an animal body, who – you are sure you’ve read that somewhere – does not see colors clearly. Still your eyes rest on the blue, it’s intensity rivaling Taehyung’s stare which is fixated on your small figure.

The idol doesn’t know what is wrong with his pup today, but he takes your interest in him as a good sign. With your focus solely on him, he move the both of you without your notice. So it’s no wonder you flinch when you do note your changed position.

Taehyung has pushed the both of you farther into the bed until his upper body leans against a few pillows. He is not lying completely flat, but this is definitely more horizontal than before. Now you are placed on his stomach, your front paws right on his chest. You feel your body being lifted up and down due to his breathing and observe the idol from your new vantage point.

Now that your instant shock has left you, you finally see the tired lines under his eyes, how every movement of his face looks slower than normal. Your idol looks exhausted, you think and remember the gym bag he had with him as he left the apartment.

Huh, he must have been working out. You shift around slightly to test your theory and would have blushed – if you were able to – at the firmness under your feet. Jup, definitely a work out.

Taehyung groans in response and pushes you off his chest. Your landing is cushioned by the thick blanket, but you still sound like a hurt child with the yelp that leaves your mouth.

“Tannie… don’t be mean”, he whines and rubs his chest. “After two hours of weightlifting with Kookie everything is sore.”

And before you even think about apologizing – in some form – the idol tries to lift himself up. There is real pain twisting his face muscle. And then he is pulling off his t-shirt. Lord have mercy, you cry, closing your eyes. But the damage is done; his well defined honey colored chest forever burned into your memory.

“Come on, let’s sleep”, he says with a suppressed yawn in his voice while he falls back against the pillow mountain behind him. Again, you don’t have any time to escape before his long fingers grasp your body and cuddle you against his bare chest.

Your fur is trickling his chin, but instead of pushing you farther away, Taehyung presses you closer. You hear a content moan slip between his lips as he inhales your scent. His slowed heartbeat calms you down in moments. The only sounds in the now darkened bedroom are his deep breaths against your fur and your short huffs. You will your inner thoughts to stop screaming at yourself – the constant yelling to take action, to stop enjoying the closeness of the idol, is making your tired brain frail. Being a dog is taking a toll on you; the constant surprises are quite tiresome.

There is nothing you can do right now. Tomorrow presents possibility, maybe Taehyung will be gone again. His schedule must be tight. The hair color is your first clue that a comeback must be around the corner. And working out with Jungkook? No man would welcome that pain if there is not some higher reason behind it.

So, the idol must have a packed day which presents you with much needed time and room to explore. You try to be engulfed with Taehyung’s presence, something your body recognizes as home. When you will yourself just enough, you can abstract your person from this situation. This is a dog owner with his pup. It’s not abnormal that you sleep together. Right, you nod and fall asleep with Taehyung’s heartbeat in your ear.

You stare at the sleeping idol as you feel the warmth of the morning sun on your fur. Taehyung looks like a statue, the occasional deep breaths the only evidence of his living state. You’ve been up for a long time – or it just feels like a long time. But doesn’t it always when you have to pee?

Still, you can’t seem to disturb the blue haired boy in front of you. His features are as soft as your pillow which makes him look so young you would have cooed if you could. All the exhaustion has vanished from is face and there is no way you want to ruin this peaceful quiet.

But your bladder is screaming at you and this body is too new to estimate how urgent it is. Going from how heavy your stomach feels and how difficult it gets to suppress your whines, you think there is no other way. You don’t want to pee in Kim Taehyung’s bed while he’s asleep. That’s just not an acceptable way to start your day… in the body of a dog.

Before the helpless noise can escape your throat, the door of his bedroom opens. Your head snaps to the opened space, the animal instincts taking over, only to face a woman looking at you with a kindhearted smile.

“Oh, my boys”, she whispers so quietly you’re sure the human next to you hadn’t heard her.

Then she steps into the room and walks to the bed. With practiced care she starts to pet your head. The woman looks old enough to be Taehyung’s mother. You’re kind of proud of yourself for not obsessing over the idol so much, you’d recognize his parents.

Rich coming from the person who could recognize Yoongi's brother in seconds, a voice scolds in your head and you roll your eyes at the mockery.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Tannie?”

Well, not the first impression you wanted to leave with his mother. Soft licks against her wrist seem to be apology enough as she shakes her head.

“You’re forgiven. Let’s get you out for a walk, little one. This boy needs all the sleep he can get”, she explains like you’d understand her while lifting you off the bed.

The oh so silent idol groans as he feels the absence of your warmth. But a look confirms your suspicion that Taehyung hasn’t woken up. He still rests against the bedding and if your bladder wasn’t alarmingly present in your mind, you’d demanded to lie back down with him.

The woman closes the door with a click behind you and Taehyung’s frame vanishes from your eyesight. Immediately your discomfort is heightened, now that you have all your focus on it.

She coos at your desperate whimpers and fastens her steps. Soon the both of you are out of the door – a stylish harness around your upper body. The woman chuckles at you dancing in front of her by hopping fast from side to side.

The outdoors confirms another suspicion; you are in Seoul. The green around you crashs into your nose with thousands of smells – the scrambled eggs from a breakfast bagel, the thick sweat of some morning joggers, two… no three… other dogs and the faint fumes from the cars to your left. You yap happily as you run to the nearest tree to do your business.

You don’t know how long your walk takes, but you see so many things your brain feels heavy with discoveries. The fellow puppy who barked at you left you feeling sad. Then some pedestrians feeding you a grape cheers you up so much, you don’t focus enough and nearly crash into a bike. The woman screamed at you in horror which embarrassed you.

All the mood swings tier you out fast, so you’re sighing in relief when you make out the familiar building. Taehyung’s mother chatted with you as if you were a friend, her topics circling around a dinner with colleagues and some important business conference she has to join tomorrow. Then she talked about Taehyung’s stamina being tested with this comeback and how she worries about her son. That’s when you get the confirmation about their relation.

You dash around her feet as to not seem too invested in her storytelling. You are a dog after all. A dog that’s now extra worried about its owner. She lets you into the apartment and you smell him before you see the idol sprinting to the entrance.

“Mum, you didn’t have to”, Taehyung says and crouches down in front of you. His eyes shine with excitement as he picks you up – not even taking off the harness beforehand – and crushes you to his chest.

He must have showered; his strong scent clouded by the fresh smell of sandalwood. Nevertheless, you recognize him and press your nose closer to his neck. There his smell is still pure and you huff in content.

“Was my baby good?”, he asks his mother while bouncing you around, moving straight to the kitchen.

“Tannie was a good boy”, she answers and winks at you out of Taehyung’s eyesight. You wink back and see the surprise in her eyes before Taehyung demands your attention.

“I made you breakfast, Tannie”, he sings and drops you to the floor, but only after squeezing you against him one last time. There, right next to the table, sits a ceramic bowl filled with some kibbles and cut strawberries.

They must be from Seokjin – his oldest member. He is sharing them with you, which warms your heart remembering all the behind the scenes clips where he declared his love for the sweet fruit.

You dash to your food, not looking back at the idol who smiles into his green tea as he watches you devour your meal. You seem to be in a better mood this morning, he notices in relief. Still, your weird acting from yesterday is on his mind and he starts to think… maybe…

“Ah, you know what, Tannie?”, Taehyung exclaims and you flinch at his boastful tone. Your mouth is decorated with crumbles while you swallow the unique food down and look at the idol.

“You'll come with me today!” Say what? “It’ll be so much fun!” For whom? You barely survived your morning walk without being killed by a bike. “You’ll get to see the MV set!” At what cost? The last shred of your sanity? “And you can catch up with the hyung!” Well, who are you to deny your owner?

“Seok?”, Taehyung asks as a stylist twists his curled hair into position. Both him and Hoseok sit in front of a mirrored wall, getting ready for the first round of promotion shoots. The blue haired idol is dressed in a comfortable pink bathrobe with decorative feathers around his neck. His eyes are focused on his older friend while the rapper’s nose is buried in his smartphone.

“Hmm?”

“Do dogs get depressed?”

Now Taehyung has his undivided attention. The iPhone is neglected as Hoseok stares at the singer. “Come again?”

Taehyung’s face turns sour. “Yeontan is acting strange.” As if to make a point, the idol motions his head in your direction. You are very much distracted by all the colorful pastels around you. Your eyes try to capture every single detail, the dimmed lights, the relaxed outfits of everyone and the seven most famous idols clustered in the space.

Avoiding any of their faces, afraid they’d pay you attention, you’re clinging to the staff member who holds you secure in her arms. The Army in you is delighted at the insight you are getting, so it’s no wonder your tail is wagging fast.

“He doesn’t even want to sit with me”, Taehyung whines. “Yesterday he slept on the floor. The floor, hyung!”

“Maybe he feels abandoned?”, Hoseok offers, remembering all the times Mickey would ignore him after the end of a successful tour overseas. “You are prepping hard for this comeback. We all are.”

Taehyung nods deep in thoughts. Are you feeling neglected? Taehyung was always under the impression that between him, his parents and the dog walker you’re well taken care of. But maybe you did miss him due to his late practices. Maybe you both need some alone time?

“Maybe you should sign him up for an idol pet support group?”, the maknae chimes in as he plows down on the couch next to the make-up station. Taehyung has to chuckle as he remembers yesterday’s therapy idea.

“Or maybe I’ll just cancel our work out tonight”, he teases and Jungkook huffs outraged.

“But look at your chest, Tae! Don’t stop now!” The youngest sounds more like a motivational speaker than his friend and Taehyung shakes his head, now that the stylist has stepped away satisfied with Taehyung’s appearance. “Maybe tomorrow, Kookie.”

You are still fascinated by the set as the staff moves around pointing out some of the props as if you were a toddler instead of a puppy. You listen with interest, your ears pointed close to her lips so you don’t miss any kind of information. This comeback looks like the biggest they have ever done. And if you understand her mentions right, an American singer will be featured as well. You can’t suppress the excited pants escaping your mouth.

Before long the idols are called on the set, all of them dressed in soft fabric and most of them with bright smiles on their faces. Just Yoongi and Taehyung look a bit distracted. While the rapper is inhaling his iced americano, the singer looks around the set until his eyes meet your glistering stare. He can see you squirming in the staff’s arms as you try to get closer to his members. He chuckles softly, not really understanding your mood swings. During the car ride here, he couldn’t recognize his puppy. You were shaking like a rattlesnake. If he didn’t know better he’d have thought you were never in a car before. As soon as you guys arrived on set, you were quick to abandon him in favor if the female staff who didn’t hesitate to pick you up.

Taehyung shakes his head and lets a professional smile slip on his lips. It’s time to perform his money’s worth. Immediately the photographer greets them before he and his nervous assistant move the idols around the small prepped bathroom. Taehyung’s gets to kneel in the front, his face closest to the camera lens. He tries not to check on you too often, but as soon as the photographer changes his equipment, his eyes rest on your moving figure. You escaped the staff member and are now roaming around the set with your nose pressed to every object within reach.

You look like you are on a treasure hunt or a RUN episode and he – endeared – smiles at you.

“We’ll take a short break; good work, boys!”, the man behind the camera exclaims and some of the staff clap, proud that everything is going smoothly today. Taehyung steps away from the group to move closer to you. Suddenly he crouches down, getting your attention in milliseconds.

You really were trying to ignore your favorite idols, their constant laughter too much for your fangirling heart. But then you see the shock of blue hair in your peripheral vision. And without any control of your body, your eyes move to Taehyung, who is only a feet away. He smiles when he feels your attention on him and motions for you to join him. Again, you do not even think and spring to the idol with tiny but quick steps. Suddenly your paws do not touch the ground anymore and you japs in fright. With a craned neck you make out the corners of a gummy grin.

Yoongi has captured you mere inches away from your owner and your eyes get bigger by the second. The Min Yoongi is holding you. Your favorite rapper, the inspiration to many of your own writings, is embracing your body. You want to giggle so badly, but there is only a chortled howl escaping your throat.

“Yaaaah”, Taehyung whines with layered jealousy as he watches how his own puppy is trapped under the spell of his grumpy colleague. You don’t even notice the others approaching – you try to memorize every detail of your bias. His cheeks are full and so is your heart, concluding that he eats well.

“Get your own damn dog to set”, Taehyung scolds and earns a slap on the back from his leader. Soon Jungkook’s hands are buried in your fur and you purr in bliss.

“Who is the best doggy?”, Jimin asks in his best baby voice and gets between Yoongi’s and your face – simultaneously blocking your sight of the rapper.

“Don’t answer that, Tannie!”, the oldest chimes in and pets your head as he looms over the smallest member. “It’s a trap. Jimini loves Holly like his own.”

What? How can the vocalist choose Yoongi’s puppy over you? You are… uhm you mean Yeontan is… adorable. Your eyebrows furrow in displeasure and you try to move away from Jimin.

“Is… is he pouting?”, Hoseok asks fascinated by your facial expression. Taehyung points at your eyebrow, pushing it into a more relaxed position with mocked force.

“See?!”, your owner exclaimed, “Tannie is going through stuff.”

Some of Bangtan chuckle while Taehyung wrestles you away from the rapper. The distance to your bias grows as the singer presses you closer to his chest, cradling you to his body and hiding you from his members at the same time.

“That’s why I’m skipping cardio tonight”, he states and buries his nose in your dark fur.

“You have to be kidding”, Namjoon mutters and tries to get Taehyung’s attention. “Yah, you can’t just not go to practice because you… you think Tannie is having his blue period or something.”

“What does Taehyung’s hair have to do with his pup?”, the youngest asks innocently. Yoongi groans and your owner hides his chuckle in your fur.

“It’s a term to describe Picasso's depression evident in his… blue paintings”, the leader explains with patience and vows to lend the maknae his art book.

“But… look!!”, Taehyung whines and thrusts you without warning in Namjoon's face. You can practically hear him groan a ‘Tannie, work with me on this’ while you are inches away from Kim Namjoon.

Maybe it’s being in a dog’s body for too long or maybe it’s his owner’s craziness rubbing off on you, but you start to grimace at the most famous leader in kpop history. Your nostrils flare while your mouth shifts into a maddened smile. At the same time you try to wink like you did this morning at Taehyung’s mother. To top everything off, you extend one of your paws in a mock salute and wiggle your tail.

Namjoon’s expression moves from annoyance to concern as he watches you going completely crazy. “Take as much time as you need”, he allows and backs away from you. “Maybe check in with a vet as well.”

After a long nap and another meal you feel relaxed as Taehyung carries you up the stairs. The rest of the shooting went smoothly and you could even hear some of the title track being played in the background. And now it’s nearly night, but still Taehyung moves with purpose farther away from his bedroom, taking two stairs at the same time to get closer to his studio. Punishing in the code – a combination of his and Jimin’s birthdays – he opens the door and lets you in his most private space. He has never taken Yeontan to his painting room. Sometimes he would share a photographed piece with his pup. But never was there an impulse to include his four-legged friend into this part of his life. Until now – now Taehyung wanted his dog to understand him, really understand him.

And how to better understand the artist than by looking at his art? With jittery hands he drops you on the floor. “Welcome”, the idol greets you with enthusiasm and spreads his arms. “This is my studio!”

You look around and take in all the different sizes canvases. Some of them are colored with abstract patterns, most of them in deep vibrant pallets. Then there are some paintings with bodily shapes, harsh black lines illustrating different parts of female and male torsos. A canvas stand is pushed to one corner of the room. It seems like Taehyung does not enjoy painting with it, because he moves a blank canvas from behind a shelf straight onto the ground.

Soon he has collected some oil paint next to it as well as some washed brushes. Taehyung has been focused solely on gathering up all the needed utilities. But now as he plops onto the floor, the artist pats the place right beside him. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

With hesitant steps you move closer to him while the guilt rises in your heart. Taehyung wants to share this with his puppy, not you. This is far more private than his mother spilling family secrets during your walk. This is him being completely open and you are not sure you can take what he is oh so willing to offer.

Still, you can’t deny the idol who looks more like a puppy with his widened eyes than you do. Halting next to him you focus on the blank white in front of you. Taehyung stills and takes in your soothing presents. The last weeks have been pure madness and he knows how tight his schedules is getting as soon as Boy with Luv drops. So he tries to memorize this moment. With a deep breath he grasps one of the brushes and squeezes some midnight blue paint on his mixed pallet. You watch his hand stroke bold lines across the canvas – fascinated by the stark contrast. Taehyung starts to hum; his deep voice relaxes you even more and you lie down – your head is resting on Taehyung’s tights in support.

For a long time he paints in silence, but after the night sky is done, he starts to talk to you about the most random things. The idol begins with a harsh complaint about his hair color, the bright dye hurting his skull. After that he jumps from thought to thought, not caring for coherency. The painter praises Yoongi’s stage for his solo track, an excited gleam in his eyes as he proudly proclaims that he mastered the background dance steps to Seesaw. Then he remembers the late-night drinking with Hoseok’s sister weeks ago; how it was the last time he let go and drank more than his stomach could handle. The longing for walking with you comes next. Taehyung misses your outings, the joy in your tiny steps when you race each other, how protective he feels when he carries you in his bag.

You are now more than ever reminded that you’re here by default. This is not an idol talking to his devoted fan; this is an honest man talking to an imposer. And when you see the happiness in his movements as the painter adds bright stars to his sky, you deep down know your time is running out. There is no way any kind of higher power would harm this man by taking away the companion he cares so much for.

As if Taehyung can sense your darkened mood, he shifts his knees pushing you off his tights in the process. You whine in displeasure but he is quick to act. Suddenly you feel wetness on your paw and look down. Taehyung has moved your leg to the mixed pallet. He gently presses your paw into the white paint. You flinch at the weird feeling which makes the idol coo.

“Hold still, little pup”, Taehyung sooths while he cleans off some white that sticks to your fur. Then he looks at you with a blank expression, making you squirm.

“So, this is important, Tannie”, he starts to explain, “you’ll help me finish this piece.”

And then he places your painted paws on the canvas. A shudder runs down your back as you connect the dots and feel the pressure of painting for the idol. You got this, you hype yourself up and inhale his scent before moving across the painting with purpose.

Ten minutes and two baths in paint later you can definitely say that you did not in fact get it. The flower field you tried to create looks more abstract than accurate. Some petals are blended together, presenting wet spots instead of filigree plants. Embarrassed you face the painter ready to get scolded. But Taehyung looks at the canvas with awe in his eyes.

“We are… brilliant”, the idol breathes and before you can scoff at this blunt lie, he tackles you and presses your body close to his chest. A whine escapes you as you feel your paws pressing against the skin on his arm. The paint hasn’t fully dried and you can see the outline of your print in white on his skin. Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind that much, more focused on breathing in the smell right behind your ear. You do the same, nuzzling your nose against his neck and relax more and more. You notice how slow your breathing gets before you fall asleep.

“Come on, ________, this lecture is not optional!”, your roommate screams you awake. You open your eyes and stare at the familiar face of your friend, his hand sassy on his hip.

“No time to admire me, get it moving”, he stresses and pushes your warm blanket away, revealing your sun kissed legs.

“I’ve got toes!” The man in front of you musters you, now more concerned than mad.

“You okay, ______?”

But all you can do is stare at your legs and test your flexibility. Then you touch your arms in wonder and ruff a hand through your thick hair.

Faster than your roommate can call for a doctor, you jump out of bed, landing on your feet, before you grab him by the arms and squeeze his biceps in joy. “Look how tall I am!”, you exclaim, no longer having to crane your neck to look at people.

Your roommate vows to keep an eye on you as you are acting weirder than normal, which is really saying something. He remembers how embarrassed he was at the last costume party. You were dressed as an ARMY bomb, wiggling around to the music. Or how you dressed as a cheesecake for Halloween. You’d drop to the ground every time someone questioned your dress up. “I dropped the cheesecake”, you’d howl more impressed with you than ever.

But now you’re looking at the mirror and touching your cheeks as if you just invented your dimples. Yeah, definitely worrisome, he thinks and pushes you into the bathroom.

“Time management, _____.”

As you sit on the closed toilet seat you try to ground your emotions. You are back and your smartwatch tells you that you haven’t even missed a day. Judging by your unharmed appearance, all you did in the last thirteen hours was sleep. But your nose oh so vibrantly remembers Taehyung’s smell, your eyes can still recall him looking at you, painting with you, cutting strawberries for you.

It takes a moment before you notice how fast you’re breathing. There is a panic attack coming and you can’t think of any way to stop it. All your emotions are rushing through your body as you start to cry hysterically, mourning memories too crazy to keep.

It takes days before you stop counting your fingers every time you wake up. It takes weeks before you click on the MV for their next comeback. You act surprised by his blue curls as your roommate screams in excitement. Only after a month you are detached enough to click on Taehyung’s newest v live. This time your surprise is genuine as you spot the tattooed paw on his wrist.

ah!! i hope you guys liked that! i had sooo much fun writing this, so maybe you enjoyed it as well! let me know what you think! stay safe and happy, dana

taglist: @slothiestuff @portableusbstick

#taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x oc #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts crack #yeontan #bts fanfic

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romiithebirdie · 4 years ago

Text

Epilogue for the Lost - Chapter 4

Had it been fair to make such a critical assumption about Kacchan?

Izuku chewed his food slowly, staring deeply into his rice bowl like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Several children ran past in the hallway beside the kitchen and he lowered his head all the more, praying nobody would try to speak to him.

The previous night had been... Stressful to say the least and it had taken a mental toll on him. He hoped that he wouldn't be shoved back into group therapy after this whole mess.

Child Protective Services and the police had arrived to escort him to a temporary Foster Home while U.A's Principal Nedzu made preparations to move Izuku into U.A High School's dormitory building until his mother recovered.

The dorms were a last resort for students who had a long way to travel or came from working class families who were struggling financially. Izuku's case didn't exactly fit the usual criteria but it was the best option and Izuku had been happy to accept the offer.

He'd already been back at his apartment and packed a few things to take with him to the dorm and he hadn't been eager to hang around the empty home. The silence gave him a feeling of great discomfort and he could barely hold back his emotions upon seeing the signs of struggle during his mother's attack.

As devastated as he was, he was so thankful that she was still here.

The television from the Home's lounge blared in the background, the fuzzy sound system broadcasting what sounded like the news.

They were talking about something that sounded important; Ketsubutsu Academy High School, he thought he'd heard being mentioned. Izuku knew that school all too well, with it being the rival school to U.A during their monthly events that included athletics competitions and literacy contests.

Ketsubutsu, like U.A, was a famous school for their top performing student records. Izuku mused that whatever the reporter was talking about probably had something to do with some kind of major event the school had recently won or something along those lines. The male reporter was blathering on, using all sorts of long words that Izuku didn't care to hear this early in the morning.

His mind was still occupied with trying to get over his late-night visit back to his apartment with the police.

Izuku had truly felt completely numb after walking around his deserted family home. It had physically hurt watching his guardians lock the doors and as they drove away, he had finally allowed himself to break down in the back of the car.

The eerie silence and the lack of the familiar warmth and welcoming air about the apartment gave off a haunting feeling.

It honestly felt to him like somebody had died there.

Thank God that hadn't happened.

Whenever he thought about wandering the apartment's seclusive structure, it gave him a sense of complete uneasiness which wasn't a nice feeling. At all.

He just wanted to go back home and see the warm, welcoming smile of his mother again.

.-.-.-.-.

"Hey, you hear the news?"

Izuku glanced up from his phone, attention on Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari and Hanta Sero talking in the corner of 1-A's classroom.

"Yeah, man. His poor family," Sero acknowledged with a nod of his head.

Kaminari cocked a brow up, "Uh no, I didn't. What happened?"

Both Kirishima and Sero exchanged an uncomfortable glance before Kirishima opened his mouth to answer;

"Yo Shindo's body was found this morning just a few yards away from Ketsubutsu's main gate."

Izuku almost dropped his phone in surprise.

Yo Shindo was a highly intelligent student who always finished in the top three for any event he took part in. His strategic ability had always been something to truly admire. Now the three boys were saying he was dead?

Had that really happened?

The three boys were all friendly members of Izuku's class, there was no way they'd make up something so horrible.

"It's not looking good," Sero shook his head. "Can't imagine what they're going through."

"Yeah, real messed up stuff," Kirishima frowned, digging both hands in his blazer pockets. "Whoever did this was so unmanly. Shindo never hurt anybody in his life."

Which was a true statement; Shindo did have a cocky side to him and he schemed a lot during their school competitions...But it was never malicious, he just liked to have strategies to win. Nobody could fault him for that.

Odd how his mother had been attacked yesterday and now a new body had been discovered. Though they hadn't been friends, he was student from a different school that Izuku had been familiar with. Could there be a connection?

"Was anything mentioned about strange writing carved into the skin?" Izuku stood up to face them before his brain could even process what he was doing.

All three boys turned on him, all looking puzzled by the quiet boy's question. Izuku immediately felt his cheeks flare up when he realised how loud he'd been. Several other classmates glanced in his direction and he suddenly wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

"Uh, don't think so," Sero answered with a shrug, thankfully noticing Izuku's nervous disposition and choosing to ignore it with a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, same with me," Kirishima agreed before his face morphed into an expression of concern. "How have you been doing, Midoriya? We know you're going through a lot right now but we're all here for you if you ever needed to talk."

As nervous as Izuku had been with his new classmates on their first day, he was relieved that they were nothing like the students from Aldera Junior High. He was mainly ignored by everybody in Aldera, due to most of the kids being freaked out by his random outbursts in the past. Meanwhile, the U.A students were all friendly faces which felt...surreal to the green-haired teen if he had to be truly honest with himself.

Despite this, he had gotten quite close with all of the members of 1-A. However, he wasn't in the best mood to start socialising due to the evening prior.

"I-I appreciate it," Izuku gave the three boys a wobbly smile before returning back to his phone. He hoped he had sounded as grateful as he felt, the other teens seemed to understand and went back to their own conversation which was a godsend to Izuku.

Allowing himself to let out a tiny sigh in relief, he then quickly logged into his phone internet and immediately began searching for the latest news stories. With a few clicks, he found what he was searching for;

BODY FOUND OUTSIDE MUSUTAFU SCHOOL GROUNDS

There were a lot more articles listed below the top search.

HIGH SCHOOL SET TO CLOSE WHILE INVESTIGATION GOES UNDERWAY

KETSUBUTSU HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT IDENTIFIED AS SECOND YEAR

Izuku clicked on the third article that identified the victim's name. Scrolling down, he noticed a part of the document that made him feel slightly queasy upon reading it.

The teen was pronounced dead on sight. Along with various stab wounds, a large slash-wound was found across his neck which authorities have confirmed to be the cause of this tragic outcome. Our thoughts and prayers are with this boy's family.

Izuku chewed on his bottom lip, a nagging thought in the back of the head about whether or not these two major incidents had been connected or not. It was just weird that both attacks happened around the same areas and had occurred several hours after one another.

Maybe he should stop looking into it and leave the investigation to the police. After all, he still had the undead clamouring for his attention so he had enough to deal with as it was.

Still… Izuku glanced at the news article one last time before closing it completely and placing his phone back into his bag.

Perhaps it would be best to not look further into these things.

His phone buzzed from inside the back and he let out a small sigh, deciding whether or not to check it. From the singular motion, he'd probably either received a notification from the device or a text message.

It'd make sense to leave it until after class but then again…

What if it was his mother checking in on him?

With that in mind, Izuku immediately snatched his bag from the ground and rummaged around inside the front pockets until his fingers stroked the familiar plastic phone case.

It was a text message, judging from the little blinking envelope icon. Izuku unlocked the device with an apology ready to write to explain that his teacher would be arriving shortly.

However, the message wasn't from his mother.

Frowning slightly at the UNKNOWN NUMBER across his phone screen, Izuku hovered his finger over the touchpad before quickly pressing on the Read button.

Hi Deku.

Izuku froze in his seat, his entire body going rigid.

What the hell was this?

The only person that had ever called him Deku was...

He winced at the memory, knowing that he should've probably just ignored the mystery texter but his fingers acted before his brain could catch up.

Who is this?

How did you get this number?

Another message immediately appeared under the first one;

You'll see soon enough.

Was that supposed to be some kind of threat?

Swallowing thickly, Izuku stared at the screen completely frozen in place. What on earth did you say in response to something like that?

Oh one more thing. You know what happened with your mother?

The teen inhaled slowly. Three dots appeared, indicating the person was typing.

Should he switch the phone off?

But then it buzzed for the final time and he bit down on his bottom lip, dreading whatever was about to be said.

And he was right to feel anxious about it;

That bitch had it coming.

#epilogue for the lost #my writing #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #izuku midoriya #class 1-a #murder mystery #afo is hisashi midoriya #dfo

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sleekervae · 4 years ago

Text

The Neighbour [0.7]

Masterlist

The sun was high in the sky, bright and casting everything in a flattering golden light. The grass blades beneath Eva's body pricked at her fair skin and Remington's hair tickled her spine, the May heat was blazing but she was happy as she proofread her latest article.

Remington had his white heart-shaped sunglasses on, and Eva was sure he must've been asleep from how still he was. She broke her attention from her laptop and looked over her shoulder, stormy blue eyes gliding over the expanse of his torso and the many tattoos that were like a gallery to his world. A gallery that she had the pleasure of enjoying just for herself.

With a sharp intake, Remington stirred when he felt he was being watched. And when he saw Eva's delicate face looking back at him, he smiled back, face thick with sleep but he looked happy.

"What are you looking at?" he asked.

"Just checking on you," she replied coyly, "You comfortable?"

"Yes I am. Had no idea you made such a good pillow," he grinned, to which Eva simpered amusedly, "How's your article coming?"

"Just proofing before I send it," she said.

"How much you getting for it?"

"Seven hundred and fifty bucks"

He gave a stirring whistle, settling down against her flank and closing his eyes, "Make that money, Eva,"

Eva was quiet as he nestled down again, but she kept her eyes fixated on his body. She admired the way the light bounced over the sunscreen-slick film on his skin, and how effortlessly pretty and cool Remington looked in contrast to the lush green grass beneath him. The tips of her fingers brushed at the cooler blades beneath her chest, fighting the urge to reach over and touch the ink on his bicep.

And just like that, a new poem jingled in her brain and sprinted to her fingertips. The poem was drafted in minutes, and as Eva read it over and over to herself she was at a loss as to whether she should publish it to her blog. She knew Remington had looked at her poetry, and she wondered what he would think if she posted a piece about him. Or what his fans would think if they happened to find her blog. Would people even know it was about him?

Nevertheless, she took another glance at his rising and falling chest. In her lens she looked at him like a muse, a piece of art that she wanted to record and worship with her words. And that feeling made her nervous.

... But it also had her simmering with excitement.

"You're still staring at me," he suddenly said, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

Eva rolled her eyes, though a sheepish grin spread across her own lips as she pushed her laptop across the grass, "Let me up,"

Remington's eyes snapped open again as he lifted his head so Eva could get to her feet, "You alright?" he asked.

"I'm just gonna' get something drink. You want anything?" she replied.

"I'm good," he threw his hands behind his head as he laid back down in the grass, "I'll guard your computer for you,"

Eva chuckled, "You're so brave,"

"Aren't I?"

Eva slipped her tank back over her bikini top, rubbing at the hot spot where Remington's hair had prickled over her skin. Her hand seemed to shake as she pulled back the glass sliding door, quickly slipping inside and finding Emerson sat on the couch with his notebook and variety of charcoals. Pepper was sleeping at his feet, but she perked up and tried to crawl to the top of the couch when she heard Eva's footsteps.

Emerson turned to his neighbour, "You okay, Eva?"

"Yeah," the small brunette replied, "Could I grab some water?"

"Of course," he smiled, "You know where the glasses are,"

"Thanks," she grabbed herself a glass of cold water and headed back for the door, stopping when she peaked over Emerson's shoulder and gazed in awe at the gothic victorian architecture covering two full pages in his journal, "That's so sick,"

"Thanks," he replied happily, "Did Remington tell you about our graphic novel?"

"He did. Did you illustrate everything?" she asked incredulously.

Emerson shrugged sheepishly, "I had a lot of help. I'll let you read the first copy that comes out, if you'd want"

"That would be awesome,"

It was then an idea stirred in the back of Emerson's head, "Do you write any fictional stuff?"

Eva shrugged, debating whether she should bring up her fanfiction hobby, "... I've dabbled,"

Emerson smiled, "Well, I'm planning to make these into a series. When we start drafting the next volume, would you want to work on it with us?"

Eva's heart nearly leapt into her throat, "You serious?"

"Why not?" he shrugged, "It's always more fun working with friends, anyway,"

Eva's face flushed, "Emerson, I'm honoured! I'd love to work with you guys,"

Over in the backyard, Remington shifted and sat up from his nap. He blinked his eyes a few times to get used to the sudden influx of light, then focusing in on the shadowy silhouette of Eva and Emerson in the house. He watched her smile, and the hand that wasn't holding a water glass came to rest on her chest. He wondered what they were talking about: probably art, the pandemic, the album party that was coming up this week.

Or was it possible that they were talking about him?

Remington took a glance at her macbook, the screen having just fell asleep. Curiosity got the better of Remington, he wondered why Eva kept glancing at him between her writing. He checked again and Emerson and Eva were still having their conversation, and Remington reached over and tapped the touchpad, bringing the laptop back to life. Eva's main page was her article about dog fighting and the people who ran these gambling rings, but Remington clicked on the open Tumblr tab. A draft of a new poem stared back at him, and before he knew what he was doing he was reading it word-for-word.

"You sleep soundly, protected by the company of

snakes, angels, and demons.

They guard your organs, flesh, and muscles.

Without moving eyes they watch the world pass you by

While you're none the wiser, drunk on beer and sunstroke.

The breath that leaves you fans over a crest of regality, valiance,

The summer grass tries to scratch away the frowns of the skulls on your arms,

You've come too far to continue to be sad.

At least, that's the impression I get.

I like your homage to the illuminati: that little triangle below your intestine

forever searches for lies and enlightenment.

Or maybe you just decided that it looked cool?

And I love that angel, clinging to your spine as you dive into the four corners of hell

Yet it drags you back to the surface, reminding you of the better qualities you have

that overshadow the bad ones.

Your body is a gallery, and I've bought myself a ticket.

I only planned to take the basic tour, a brief introduct --"

Remington quickly clicked back to Eva's article when he heard the door sliding open again, but Eva had caught him snooping. She looked down at him quizzically.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her standing figure blocking out the searing sun.

Remington glanced back at the screen, "Reading about the bastards who exploit defenseless animals and force them into fighting for monetary gain," he replied quickly, "Very profound work,"

Eva had the mind to know he was spouting straight bullshit, but she didn't press on, "Thank you," she set down her water glass and started to pull off her shorts.

"Your thirst quenched?" he asked.

"Yes, and now I'm going to go for a swim," she smiled, "You're more than welcome to join me,"

Remington sat back as her tank top fell to the ground, revealing the small flower tattoo on her ribs peeking out from the band of her bikini. Eva stood at the edge of the pool, shook out her hair, and dived head first into the crystalline water. Remington smiled to himself as he stood up, his heart thrumming as fast as a hummingbird could bat its wings when as the words he read fluttered behind his eyes.

She was writing a poem about him.

Eva emerged from the water just as Remington took a running start, and without warning, cannonballing into the water beside her. As she wiped the water from her eyes more had splashed over her head. Remington broke out of the water seconds later, laughing when he saw the scowl on Eva's face.

"You're so fucking chaotic!"

"You love me,"

The album was to drop this Thursday at midnight, and they were going to stream and celebrate its release at Sebastian's place with a party. A small party, with Daniel, Andrew, their mom, and their girlfriends.

And of course, Eva had been invited.

Remington assured her it was just going to a small casual affair, and all she needed to bring was her "gorgeous smile". Those were the words he used. Nevertheless, Eva had a constant flutter in the pit of her stomach as Thursday neared; annoyed because no matter what she pulled out of her closet she seemed to have nothing to wear, and popping advil because her period decided to pay her an early visit the morning of the party.

Remington continued to check Eva's Tumblr and Instagram pages now and again, wondering if she had posted the rest of that poem. He felt a little guilty about snooping, and he wondered what her reaction would be if she knew he had looked. Or perhaps she already knew that he had and she was only letting it slide because she didn't want to talk about it. And as he stood in the shower on the morning of the party, not snapping out of his thoughts until Emerson banged on the door loudly for his turn, Remington began to realize he wanted Eva so much more than he should have for a friend.

Pluto lay diligently at the foot of Eva's bed while she worked, wearing a face mask to hopefully keep her period acne at bay. She read through her most recent poems, a shiver crawling up her spine every time she read them. It was scary because within the last few days, she realized Remington had become the muse she examined and picked apart in her pieces. It wasn't that she hadn't written about boys before, she had, but they didn't elicit the same excitement Remington did when he touched her; or when he was even near her.

In the two and some months she had come to know him, Eva's world had grown so small and yet exploded so suddenly in such little time. Remington was a firecracker of wild colors that splattered across the folds of her brain and drew her into him like a moth to the light. She wanted to watch him move, work, and no matter what she wanted to make him smile. After listening to his music, she knew how badly he needed to be happy. And there was a part of her that wondered what it would be like; how would he be with her if they started a relationship? What's it like dating a rockstar? She imagined the day-to-day wouldn't be very different from how they were now: great friends just one step further on the scale of intimacy.

The more she thought about it, the more she wanted it. She wanted him.

✧✧✧

Remington's tongue tingled as he approached the complex courtyard in the late evening, his gaze flying to her balcony to hopefully get a small glimpse of Eva. He smashed the call button for her apartment and waited for her sweet voice to pick up.

"Yellow!" she answered happily.

"It's your friendly neighbourhood psychopath," Remington smiled as he spoke into the speaker.

Eva chuckled, "Come on up! I got the door open,"

The front door clicked and Remington slipped inside, his mask over his face as he waved to the landlord who was too nose deep in his newspaper to give a damn about him.

He pulled his mask down and knocked first before entering Eva's apartment, first being greeted by Pluto who leapt out of his bed and began to rub himself against his pant leg. Remington scooped him up in his arms.

"It's good to see you too, buddy!" he cooed at the cat, "Are you coming to the party with us? Maybe if we ask nicely your mom will take you?"

Remington's attention diverted from Pluto when he heard Eva walk in from behind. Turning around, any words he had were suddenly stuck in his throat when his eyes fell over her. Just when Remington thought she couldn't look any more gorgeous, she blew all his expectations out of the water in a body-hugging black, white, and red plaid dress, white sandals on her feet and her short hair loose and wavy. She only had on mascara and some eyeliner, but in his opinion, Eva didn't need any more than that.

She was absolutely beautiful.

Her smile faltered when Remington hadn't said a word, not even a hello, "... You're looking at me weird," she said, bordering on panic as she glanced at her dress, "Do I look weird? 'Cause I can go change --"

Remington quickly snapped out of it, "N-No! You're fucking gorgeous," he gaped, "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare like that --"

"No, it's okay," she assured him, smiling sheepishly as her heart skipped a beat, "You look really good, too. Yellow suits you nicely,"

Remington chuckled, continuing to cradle Pluto as he glanced at his pants, "See -- me and Emerson got into a debate. I say they're yellow, he think they're lime,"

Eva shrugged, "Regardless, they're on the citrus spectrum," she grinned, going to grab her purse, "Are you sure I can't bring anything? Like a bottle of wine, or --"

"Nope! Seb's got all the alcohol we'll need," he replied, "You can bring Pluto if you want, though. Emerson's gonna' bring Pepper,"

"He's better off here where I know he'll be safe. Over there, I'll constantly be worried if he's trying to tear up the carpet or... or eating another shoe," Eva shook her head.

Remington shrugged as he set Pluto down, "Just as well, I don't think he and Pepper like each other," he said.

"Oh really? What gave that away?" Eva asked in mock disbelief, "The constant hissing, the yapping, the growling? The cat's staying here,"

"Sorry bud, I tried," he said to Pluto. The tabby spun his tail before striding off back to his bed.

Eva took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling, "He'll be fine," she sighed.

Remington cocked his head, "You okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded quickly, "It's that time of the fucking month again and my stomach does not like me,"

He swallowed with uncertainty, "... It's just a period thing, right? You're not losing taste or smell or anything, right?"

"No, it's just a period thing," she assured him, "I'll be fine. I feel like shit, but I just need some fresh air and some good music,"

"Lucky for you, I can provide all of those things. And just to reiterate, you look fantastic," he said.

"You're sweet," she smiled, slinging her denim jacket on and clutching her purse, "Shall we?"

"We shall," Remington quickly held the door open for her, "After you, my lady,"

"Why thank you, kind sir,"

#remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #emerson barrett #sebastian danzig #palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #poetry #boy bands #band imagines #band imagine blog #band blog #original story #original female character

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renaerys · 5 years ago

Text

PPG One-Shot: Six Degrees Chiller (Brick/Blossom)

A new cute one-shot in honor of @carriedreamerx birthday! In the same high school AU as part 1, part 2, and part 3, but can totally stand-alone. Also posted on my AO3. Tune in for some laughs and some Reds cuteness!

Summary: Brick goes deodorant shopping. It doesn't end well. (Or does it??)

xxx

Brick squinted at the nine-foot shelf packed with a full color wheel of deodorants and antiperspirants. The sheer surfeit of brands and scents was as daunting to behold as it was absolutely batshit insane—how many ways did people need to not smell like a dirty gym sock?

He picked a random stick and scowled at the label as if it had offended him and all his future progeny. Who the fuck would want to smell like mango lassi?

The squeak of a shopping cart rolling down the aisle sent Brick into a febrile panic for a hot second, and he shoved the saccharine deodorant stick back onto the shelf. A geriatric woman with a hunched back, a bright head scarf, and eyes so folded over with wrinkles it was a miracle she could see anything at all wheeled her cart slowly past Brick, who froze where he stood. She smiled politely at him, and he nodded out of sheer self-preservation instinct. The moment she passed him, he yanked the bill of his red cap lower over his eyes.

“Get a grip,” he grumbled. He was an eighteen-year-old guy buying deodorant, not stool softener. He was totally casual and had absolutely no reason to be so fucking paranoid. Nobody who might recognize him was coming to Cooper’s Market at 8 a.m. on a Sunday.

Brick wiped his clammy palms on his jeans and searched the shelves for what he’d come for so he could hurry up and leave. There it was, fifth shelf in a sea of sleek black and edgy, neon letters: Axe Ice Chill.

“Okay, do you consider yourself more of a music lover, sports star, gaming guru, or style icon?” Boomer had asked as he sat cross-legged on the sofa with his laptop open to the Axe “Find Your Magic” test a few months ago.

“Sports star,” Butch had said on his left, and poked the screen that wasn’t a touch-screen.

“That’s you, moron,” Brick had said, totally above this stupid test. “Pick style icon.”

Boomer grinned. “Oh yeah, your hoodies are so stylin’.” He clicked the next question. “Signature scent? Huh, maybe warm and aromatic?”

“Sounds like one of those Yankee holiday candles,” Butch had said.

Unfortunately, he had a point.

“Well, you're not exactly woody and earthy, and you’re definitely not fruity and sweet—”

“Just go to the next one.” Brick clicked on “fresh and cool” and waited for the screen to load. “Smellin’ good!” the loading page flashed at him. Jesus fucking Christ.

When the quiz presented a true or false statement, Butch moved like he had a bug up his ass and slammed the touchpad before Brick or Boomer could do anything about it.

Boomer tried not to laugh. “Dude, come on.”

“Please, he’s a punk-ass dweeb who’d never make the first move in a fight, let alone on a girl—” Butch had taunted.

Brick punched him in the throat with his Super speed and smiled at the sound of his asshat brother gagging. “Choke and die, motherfucker.”

Butch wheezed as he laughed through the pain, and Brick and Boomer breezed through the more generic age and appearance questions: under 18, long hair (“Mane Man!” the quiz gushed, and Brick almost melted Boomer’s laptop right there), and natural look. After an artificially anticipatory loading screen, a picture of a dude with a clown nose crowd surfing in a sepia Instagram filter appeared on the screen with the generic “Be your best self!” encouragement in blocky letters superimposed upon it, and finally the expert, personalized recommendation for Brick’s body spray needs.

“Because you’re hotter when you’re chill.” Brick had cringed when he read that idiotic tagline the first time, and he cringed reading it again now in the deserted personal hygiene aisle where he prayed no one would find him buying this cry-for-help vanity spritz.

However.

He sprayed a bit of mist in the air and reveled in that cool, icy scent that wasn’t a scent so much as a feeling. Six degrees chiller in a bottle. The first time he’d tried it (under great duress), he’d griped and bitched and slammed his bedroom door to get away from his howling brothers. Settled on his bed with a frown, he had to admit it did cool him off. It was almost pleasant. The smell wasn’t overwhelming like that tiger piss Butch bathed in on the daily. But it wasn’t out of this world compared to the generic shit he’d been using before.

It wasn’t until Blossom sneezed on their way out of AP Lit that her ice breath—and understanding—hit him with the force of a cold snap to the balls.

“Sorry, did I get you?” she’d said, abashed as she covered her mouth with one hand and fished out a bottle of Purell from her messenger bag with the other. Her ice splatter fast melted on his shoulder as his too-warm body absorbed the cold with a bizarre, but extremely pleasant, shiver down his spine.

Son of a bitch, but he had a kink.

Which, of course, spiraled way the hell out of control when he found himself here months later with a recycled shopping bag he’d brought so he could carry the three bottles of Axe Ice Chill he planned to purchase home, because Brick planned ahead and liked to keep his bathroom well-stocked.

Which also, of course, was why at that very moment, fate decided to punch him in the dick.

“Bubbles, you have, like, fourteen bottles of shampoo at home! You don’t need another one,” Buttercup groused at 8 in the goddamned morning on a Sunday.

“Those are all different products, not just shampoo. Honestly, Buttercup.” Bubbles zipped into the aisle with Buttercup on her tail just at the moment Brick had his second panic attack in the span of five minutes and completely lost his shit.

He launched the bottle of Axe Ice Chill so hard into the ceiling that it lodged in there tighter than a prairie-dogging turd.

“Brick?” Blossom’s hand on his shoulder nearly sent him yeeting after his abused body spray, if the sheer mortification didn’t rob him of further motor function and exactly one hundred percent of his brain cells.

Like her sisters, she wore a jacket over her pajama pants. They must have just popped over for some last-minute breakfast staples and a side of peer humiliation. But even in those criminally hideous Ugg boots and five boxes of pancake mix in her shopping basket at 8 on a fucking Sunday morning, her smile glowed.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he returned lamely, because that was all she was getting from him until his neurological functions rebooted.

“Hi, Brick,” Buttercup said, suspicious like usual and searching for some excuse to bust his balls for a laugh. “What’re you doing here?”

The Super sisters had cornered him in front of the Teen Spirit, which came in an absolutely frightful eighteen scents because there was nothing pubescent teenagers needed more than eighteen reassurances that their social survival depended on smelling like a potpourri candy bar.

“Shopping, obviously,” Bubbles said. “Ooh, Brick, you have straight hair. What do you think?” She held up two bottles of brightly colored free-range, organic hair shit.

“I think I was just leaving,” he managed.

“Empty-handed?” Buttercup peered at him like he might transform into a literal dick with ears if she only managed not to blink for long enough. He could smell the threat of a joke on her.

“They didn’t have the brand I wanted.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Bubbles said, genuinely stricken.

“Girls, let’s get going. I really want those pancakes,” Blossom said.

“We better grab more syrup. Buttercup finished it all,” Bubbles said, already moving away. She dropped both hair products in Blossom’s basket, not bothering to choose between them.

“Oh please, everybody knows you and the Professor are the syrup fiends in this house.” Buttercup floated after her and waved to Brick. “Hey, tell that shithead to answer my texts. He owes me $20.”

“Uh-huh,” Brick said, fully intending not to mention anything about this conversation to Butch at all.

“Sorry about your favorite brand being sold out,” Blossom said.

It’s fine, he would have said had she not caught his cheek in her hand and pressed a frosty kiss to the corner of his lips before he could do anything about it. Frozen fernlings crept over his cheek and chin, down his neck, and slowly absorbed through his now flushed skin, and he shivered. Without even thinking about it, he reached for her, but she was already walking away to catch up with her sisters.

When she got to the end of the aisle, she shot him a cheeky grin over her shoulder and had the nerve to wink at him. “Stay cool, Brick.”

Red in the face and high on her, Brick just stood there like an idiot gawking at his kind of unofficial girlfriend and the singular dominating object of his fantasies, be they sexual or otherwise. What was dignity when she smiled at him like that? What was a paltry imitation in a bottle when she kissed him like that?

The paltry imitation fell from its hole in the ceiling and exploded on the tiled floor at Brick’s feet with a winter ferocity that, in that moment at least, rivaled Blossom’s in the heat of battle.

When Brick got home later that morning and Boomer asked him why he smelled like a snowman’s asshole, Brick burned the clothes on his back and spent the next half hour in the shower thinking about how he was going to convince Blossom to make the first move and finally make them official.

xxx

Y’all better appreciate the research that went into this fic. That Axe quiz is real and I took it pretending to be Brick, and it literally does spit out a photo of a dude wearing a clown nose in a club. If that’s not a sign from the Daddy that I’ve chosen the righteous path, then idk what is. Sacrifices to my Chrome search history were made for this fic in the name of celebrating Carrie, ergo, worth it.

#Blossick #PPG Reds #Blossom #Brick #Powerpuff Girls #PPG Fanfic #Powerpuff Girls Fanfiction #february fic prompts #ppg shook

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hailbop1701 · 5 years ago

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ReaperXFemaleReader

Doom: To Hell And Back

Chapter 7: Off The Deep End

Helloooooooo! Queen of all typos here with chapter 7! I just wanted to say that I love you all and that I have opened requests for Doom (2005), Almost Human, and Star Trek.

You and Reaper had just caught up with Sarge who had met up with Duke and the Kid. “System reboot. Time required to begin renewed operation: five minutes. Quarantine cordon is breached.” the computer rang out. You grimaced, “Oh that’s not good.” you muttered. Sarge shot you a glare, “This mission is no longer containment. Get all the weapons and ammo you can. We’re going through. Move!” he barked. You turned back towards the infirmary, “Where do you think you’re going, Crow?” Sarge’s voice echoed around you. “I’m running low on medical supplies. I’m going to restock while I still can,” you said without slowing down or looking back. You faintly heard Sarge yell a few more things but you couldn’t help but not care; ‘he’s spiraling, declaring the situation as it was. It wasn’t going to end well.’ you thought grimly.

You tilted your head ever so slightly when the sound of running footsteps caught up to you. John strode purposely next to looking worried, “I thought you were on your way to the armory?” you asked, matching his increasing pace. “Sam’s not answering,” he said voice tight, “Well come on then!” you said and started running. John seemed surprised for a moment before he started to follow you, his feet hitting the floor with dull thuds. You skidded to a halt in front of the closed nanawall; Dr. Carmack’s lower back half still hung there limply. You grimaced and slammed your fist down on the button on the control panel, the body fell to the floor with a crunch. “Sam, why didn’t you answer your comm.?” John asked as soon as he entered the room with you behind him.

Sam looked up from what she was doing and gestured you both over and John huffed, “We gotta go now!” he said urgently. Sam shook her head, “Why did they take Goat and not Destroyer? Why Carmack and not Dr. Thurman?” she said quickly. John looked confused at what she was getting at, “What?”

Sam stood up quickly, “Lucy had the 24th chromosome but she wasn’t a monster. She died protecting her child, not devouring it. Why did the same chromosome that made her superhuman turn Stahl into a monster?” she asked wildly. “Let’s go,” John said impatiently gesturing toward the exit. “Just give me a minute!” Sam begged; you sighed and shook your head and started to gather the supplies you needed. But Sam’s thought process made your head spin, you moved to pass Reaper but he grabbed your arm dragging you to a stop. “Wha-” you were going to argue but the look on his face made you turn and look at Sam. She showed you exactly what she just showed her brother, She took forceps and dragged it across the slug looking thing that came from Dr. Carmack. It reacted severely, the slug thrashed and hissed and then became still, “That was brain matter from Portman.” she whispered, setting down the forceps. She picked up another pair and repeated the motion, the slug kept still. “Brain matter from Destroyer,” she whispered.

“It chooses who it infects,” you whisper awed, “Ten percent of the human genome is still unmapped. Some say it’s the genetic blueprint for the soul.” Sam said with a grin. You looked down at the slug almost unseeing, “Makes sense on why they left. Made the synthetic chromosome, some turn out for the better while others not so much.” you said and the twins were quiet. Your eyes widen, “We need to go now!” you said whipping around to face Reaper. He looked almost startled, “Yeah (Y/N) I know that’s what-” he said but you grabbed the arm that was still holding onto you. “John, not everyone will be infected. They don’t have to die,” you said urgently eyes on fire. His breath caught and he let you go. For a split second your arm tingled but you shook it off and rushed for the door with the Grimm twins behind you. “What’s going on?” Sam asked from behind you. “Sarge is going to kill them all,” John growled picking up his pace. You skidded to a hard stop next to the computer console in the Ark room, you started up the sequence as John and Sam showed up. “Ark travel in ten seconds.” the computer rang out. You stepped up so you were between the two siblings, “ Ugh Ark travel.” you mutter disgusted and Reaper couldn’t help but smirk.

“You wanna go first?” You asked with a raised eyebrow and John rolled his eyes moving forward. You watched as Reaper was engulfed by the swirling silver mass one last time, “Sam go.” you urged after the computer started the countdown again. Sam took a deep breath and stepped forward; the clock counted to zero and Sam was gone. Taking a shuddering breath you stepped up to the plate, the computer’s female monotone counted down and you braced as it hit zero.

The sensation of everything and nothing hit you like a ton of bricks, you stumbled out and almost fell to your knees. You would have if Reaper didn’t catch you, “Thanks,” you gasped your jaw clenched. John held on until you could stand on your own, “It’s okay, deep breaths.” he whispered to you. You slowly straightened, holding on to his shoulder “God, I hope to never do that again.” you chuckled dryly. That’s when you saw bodies that littered the Ark room floor; “Oh my god.” you gasped eyes wide. John squeezed your shoulder as Sam looked over at the both of you with unshed tears in her eyes.

Gritting your teeth you activated your Comm. “Sarge, what’s your position? Sarge, come in. Do you copy?” you voice cold and even. No response. You scowled and Reaper turned his Comm. on, “ Come in, Sarge. Do you read me? Over. Sarge, come in, do you copy?” he asked his voice a low growl. A few seconds passed by before Sarge’s voice filters through, “Loud and clear,” he said sounding almost chipper. A severe scowl crossed your features, “so childish.” you mutter with a shake of your head. The three of you moved forward carefully stepping over the dead.

Reaper’s eyes narrowed, “Look, do not kill everybody. I repeat, do not kill everybody. They’re not all infected.” he said calmly. Static only greeted you, “Do you copy?” Reaper repeated. Another pause, “Copy that.” came the C.O.’s response with the sound of a gunshot. Sam flinched while you and John just looked at each other, “John.” you said warningly. The man beside you looked conflicted, “I know, I know.” he said avoiding eye contact. You stopped by the computer console and scanned the screens. Sam and John were huddled together whispering back and forth, they’re conversation seemed pretty heavy so you kept your attention on what was in front of you. You tapped at the keyboard; pulling up the security feed. “Sarge and Duke are on their way,” you said looking up through your lashes before looking back down again. John suddenly looked a little flustered but you assumed it had to be because of what was happening. What you didn’t see was Sam hiding a smile behind her hand; John cleared his throat and worked to get his thoughts under control. He saw that Sam was watching him intently, “stop,” he warned and she waved it off.

Sarge and Duke took that moment to enter the room; Sarge peers over your shoulder, “What are you doing?” he asked a little too close for comfort. “I’m looking at security footage, I was hoping to track the infected that traveled through the Ark.” you muttered trying to hold in your anger and frustration. Sarge straightened and crossed his arms, “You don’t have to kill all of them. I don’t think everyone is infected, or even capable of being infected.” Sam said gaining Sarge’s attention away from you. You look up at Duke who was standing a few feet away; you motioned for him to come over. He sauntered over to you and bent down over the desk, “is it true?” he asked in a whisper. You give a small nod, “yeah saw it for myself,” you whispered back. You moved your finger on the touchpad and promptly frowned, ‘where is everyone?’ you asked yourself.

“Can you go over to that terminal and bring up the quarantine clock?” you asked Duke, he nodded and moved to the other end of the desk. He set his gun down and began to slowly tap at the keyboard with two fingers. Snorting you looked up at the argument,

”Am I glad to see you guys. That thing cut right through the door. I tried to use the grenade but it came at me too fast. Followed me through the Ark, and started to kill everybody. It was horrible.” a voice broke the tension. You all looked over to see Pinky rolling in and immediately stopped when Sarge pointed his gun at his head. Pinky held up his hand’s eyes wide; you walked quickly over to Pinky ignoring the gun pointed in your general direction. You placed a hand on Pinky’s forehead and tilted it so you could look at his neck from all sides. “He hasn’t been bitten. He’s clean,” you said stepping away from the shaking man looking Sarge in the eye.

Sarge glared at you lowering his weapon slightly, “I say who’s clean and who’s not.” he hissed teeth clenched. You narrowed your eyes squaring your shoulders; despite not saying anything the challenge was pretty clear. Pinky clammed up beside you and babbled trying to save himself, “Sarge!” another voice broke the standoff, the Kid entered the fray. Sarge’s eyes turn from you to the young private, “There’s a storeroom to the south. It’s got, like, 20 people inside of it. We gotta do something.” he said panting worn out. Your eyes flicked to John, he stood ramrod straight. Fists clenching and unclenching; he looked conflicted. His eyes flicked and caught yours, ‘You good?’ he silently asked and your lips thinned. A clear ‘no,’

Sarge wasn’t happy with the Kid, “Your orders were to clear that sector. Is it cleared?” he asked anger seeping into his every word. The Kid looked shocked, “N-no, I told him to stay put. They’re okay. They’re just scared shitless.” he said. You couldn’t see him but you could hear the fear in his voice. Turning your body ever so slightly you slowly inch to get closer to him; you didn’t take your eyes off Sarge or the sidearm that was still gripped in his hand. “We kill them all. Let God sort them out,” he said coldly. Out of your peripheral, you saw the Kid shake his head, “This is wrong. I think-”

“-Son, you don’t think. That’s an order. We’re in the field soldier.” Sarge snapped voice booming. The Kid stiffened, “Sarge if nothing’s found them…” the Kid tried again; you held your breath and moved another inch or two. “You will obey the direct order of your commanding officer.” Sarge seethed, teeth bared. Your heart thudded in your chest as you moved another few inches, you were a few feet away from him. “No.” the Kid refused and you truly wanted to praise him, but now wasn’t the time to disobey Sarge right to his face. “Now.” Sarge boomed; Sam squeaked from where she retreated. Duke stood in front of her by the terminal; the Kid squared his shoulders to be like yours. Defiant. “Go to hell,” he said fists clenched by his side. You were close to him now but not close enough; the shot echoed through the room and sent painful echoes through your head.

“Holy shit!” Duke yelped and Sam screamed, “oh my god!”

The Kid fell to the ground, blood spurting from his neck. His terrified wide eyes were on you pleading for help. You moved a few steps before another shot rang out, this time it hit the floor by your feet. “Don’t move Crow,” Sarge growled. Reaper screamed at Sarge angrily but the larger man paid him no heed, you and Sarge didn’t take eyes off of one another. You glared and trembled in anger; he seemed more relaxed now that the fly in his ear was gone. You had to watch as John tried and failed to stop the bleeding; you had to watch as the Kid died, his eyes boring into you. Once the Kid was still and unseeing Sarge lowered his gun off of you, “It was his first mission!” Reaper shouted at his C.O. and Sarge rolled his eyes, “And it’s not gonna be my last. I need soldiers. I don’t need anybody else but soldiers.” he said with the curl of his lip.

He waved his gun at you again, “You’re on thin ice little girl,” he warned making you bristle like a pissed-off cat. Reaper stood slowly nostrils flaring, he stepped over the Kid to get closer to you and his sister. He put his hands on his primary weapon tensing for a fight that will inevitably break out. The cocking of another gun sounded from behind you, you stiffened and turned. “Drop the weapons. I mean it. I have no intention of being killed by a madman. Drop the weapons.” Pinky shouted brandishing the handgun Mac must have given him earlier.

Your eyes went from pinky to the creature that lurked behind him; you slowly backed away from the wheelchair-bound man toward Reaper. You caught Duke’s eye and subtly motioned for them to get back. Duke wrapped an arm around Sam who held a hand to her mouth to keep from crying out. They cautiously moved back towards the far wall; you squeaked slightly when your foot hit the Kid’s leg. Reaper reached out a hand to your elbow and eased you back. The demon growled bizarrely its eyes were on you, it’s growling became louder the further you moved away. Pinky’s eyes were wide in fear, “There’s something behind me, isn’t there?” he squeaked.

The demon roared and grabbed Pinky flinging him around in the air. His screams echoed the Ark room and you felt someone push you to the ground. You whipped your head around to see Reaper on the floor with but his eyes were half-closed. “John!” you yelped and scrambled over to the prone man. He groaned as you checked his face gently, “hey come on we gotta move.” you urged gently tapping his cheeks. His green eyes fluttered open to meet yours, they then darted around to the chaos that was happening around you. He nodded, “I’m good.” he murmured, patting your elbow. Sighing in relief you moved, gripping Reaper’s arm to help him to his feet.

You swung your rifle from your back and surged forward with Reaper at your hip, “Move!” Sarge ordered rushing after the demon; “Sam keep back!” John ordered and eyed Duke for a second. Duke nodded and kept in front of the good Doctor. One by one you all passed through a nanowall and down a darkened corridor. Halfway down Sarge held up a closed fist, “Listen,” he cautioned. You held your breath straining your ears, the pounding in your head became worse by the passing hours. Sarge quickly turned eyes wide, “Withdraw! WIthdraw behind the nanowall.” he shouted urging you all back the way you came. You gasped seeing what Sarge saw; a horde of infected sprinted down the corridor in your direction. Turning on your heels you ran back, your feet barely touching the ground.

Reaper fired off some shots behind you and called for a magazine; you got through the nanowall and turned. You raised your rifle as Reaper sprinted through; Duke tossed him a mag and you fired on the first infected you saw. Sarge slammed his fist down on the control panel attempting to close the nanowall. He hit it too hard because the wall began to splutter and flicker on and off, ‘great!’ you thought bitterly. “(Y/N) move!” John shouted from behind you, you swung around and quickly moved to a better position. “Fuck! The wall’s not closing!” Duke shouted and Sam screamed as arms shoved past the malfunctioning wall. One managed to grab onto Sarge’s leg, “I’m not supposed to die.” he shouted, and then he was gone. You backed up so you were shoulder to shoulder with Duke protecting Sam, “John let’s go!” you shouted as you covered his retreat. He fired a couple more shots before moving back, an abrupt growling broke your focus. Looking down on the grate you and Duke stood on you saw it, gasping you pulled Duke off and you both crashed to the floor. “Holy shit!” he screamed, firing into the grating.

Sam ran to Duke and pulled him up while you scrambled to your own feet running after Reaper. “Come on!” you shouted making sure they passed you. You emptied your clip before following them down another adjacent hallway. Duke held open a door for you waving a hand wildly for you to hurry. You practically flew into the room slamming into a bunch of crates and boxes; the door closed with a thud and a hiss. Without taking a breather you, Duke and Reaper piled anything you could get your hands on in front of the door. After you had run out of heavy objects you leaned against a wall breathing heavily. You closed your eyes and ran a shaky hand through your mussed up hair, opening them again you eyed John. He leaned against the opposite wall looking pale, “John?” you questioned moving closer to him; he lifted his hand to wave you off but it was covered in blood. He slid down the wall, eyes drooping he watched as you rushed to his side,

“Sam, he’s been shot!”

Tags:

@thottiewithashotgun

@dw-writes

@lauraaan182

@marvelouslytrekking

@writerdee1701

#doom 2005 #reaper x reader #ReaperXFemaleReaper #john grimm x reader #reader insert #slow burn #karl urban

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #460

“i let it fall - my heart / and as it fell, you rose to claim it”

When you were younger, did your mother or father ever let you open a few presents before Christmas or your birthday even arrived? We have a tradition of opening one of the smaller presents on Christmas Eve. If you could receive a 100 dollar gift card for either blouses, pants, dresses, shoes or purses, which would you chose? PANTS. I need new pants BADLY. What is your favorite thing to do after crying? Ex: Sleep, listen to music, have some alone time, talk to someone, etc? It really depends on why I was crying and how hard. Do you think Trump will be assassinated, or will he survive his term? Old survey. I really thought he'd be assassinated more than any other president, honestly. Last time you felt suicidal? A couple weeks ago, but they were only passive thoughts. Last time you had butterflies? Sometime today, thinking about things. Biggest asshole you know? Some relative of my sister's in-laws' is so fucking rude. Literally no one likes him, but because he's family, he comes to events, anyway. Did you ever leave someone because you know you’d hurt them? No. What song did you last listen to? I'm listening to No Resolve's cover of "Set Fire to the Rain" by Adele. I have seriously been into rock/metal covers lately. Ever ridden in a police car? Yes. That's how they transport you from the ER to psych hospitals here. Ever witnessed a murder? JESUS, no. Have you ever lied under oath? No. Have you ever failed a subject before? I failed Algebra I during my last college attempt. Have you ever had a deadly animal as a pet? Noooo. I wouldn't. I want tarantulas, which are venomous (the potency ranging from what side of the world they come from), but even the worst of their venoms isn't fatal. Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender? Yes. Have you ever been in a hot tub before? Yeah. Have you ever been to a movie that sold out? It's possible, idk. What movie last made you too scared to go to sleep? None, I think? When you’re on a laptop, do you hook up a mouse or use the touchpad? I use a mouse. What’s your mom’s mom’s name? Cecelia. Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the person you like? BOY THAT WOULD SUCK Have you ever been tempted to steal? No. What is the main character’s name in the book you’re reading? Moonwatcher. Do you have a favorite local band? Who are they? No. Who’s the last person you saw naked, aside from yourself? Mom, walking to her bedroom after a shower. Who’s your favorite horror monster/killer? Pyramid Head from the Silent Hill franchise. What kind of music do you prefer to listen to when driving? When I'm driving, no music. I can't focus. Would you ever own a hairless rat, cat or dog? I'd LOVE a sphinx. I doubt I'm ever getting rats or dogs again, but I do think they're cute. Females, anyway. I'm sorry but hairless male animals are just laksdjfk;lajdwkl;wj for obvious reasons. All the people you’ve kissed, what did their names start with? J, T, D, S. What did you and your ex fight about most? "The" ex, uhhhh... I don't really know. We didn't fight a lot. Don’t you love long hugs? YEAH especially if I'm crying or just in general need comfort. And long kisses? If we're serious and the timing is right, yeah. Have you ever purchased condoms? No. Have you ever gone on vacation with your boyfriend/girlfriend? No previous ones, no. Have you ever trashed your ex’s car after an argument? No. Even I wasn't THAT low. Would you leave a note on a car claiming responsibility if you damaged it? Yes. My guilty conscience would eat me alive otherwise. Have you ever used someone's handicapped parking pass to get a parking spot? No, and you're fucking garbage if you have. Are you embarrassed to tell people your job? I'm humiliated to tell people I don't HAVE a job. If you ran over an animal would you keep driving? omfg NO. I would absolutely pull over sobbing, move the animal to the side of the road, and hopefully there will be some wildflowers nearby to rest on it. I'd call whoever picks up roadkill, too. Where’s the best place to eat a romantic dinner? Take me out to Olive Garden like a basic white bitch & feed me spicy shrimp fritas and u have approximately a 90% chance of getting laid. :eyes emoji: What hobby would you get into if time and money weren’t an issue? Ohhhh I know there's one, but I'm blanking. What would be the most amazing adventure to go on? That is like an impossible question. There are so many possible, epic adventures. When people come to you for help, what do they usually want help with? Writing stuff. Has anybody criticized the way your significant other looked like? Yup, in the past. Like shut the fuck up, are you the one dating them???? Have you written or drawn anything for somebody else? I've done this many, many times. Who has impressed you most with what they’ve accomplished? Idk, there's a lot of people I know like that. What is something you think everyone should do at least once in their lives? Fall in love. Nothing matches that feeling to me. What would you rate 10/10? markerplayer What do you hope never changes? My resilience. I never want to give up when something knocks me down. Would you ever have sex with the last person you texted? UM THAT IS MY MOTHER Is there anyone that you’d love to just spill your guts to? Girt. Like. Now. But I'm waiting until I actually see him again. This needs to be said to his face. Where is the person you have feelings at right now? He's maybe asleep or just waking up? I don't actually know his exact hours and I know they alternate, but I think he primarily works the night shift at his job? Are you happy with your relationship status? I'm not anymore. I want to be with ^ like very badly. When did you last cry? What for? Today. I'm terrified of loving someone again in the fear of getting very hurt or plain traumatized again. Do you think you’re wasting your time on the person you love? No. When’s the next time you’ll kiss someone? I usually hate questions that assume I can see the future, but I can tell you I plan to whenever I see He Who I've Mentioned a Gazillion Times In Today's Survey Spam. Were you ever scared to death of anyone you knew? Or are you currently? My dad, in the past. Not currently. What’s the longest you’ve been away from home by yourself? If you wanna count hospital stays, like... a month? Have you ever been made fun of, because of what you look like? I've been made fun of online once because of my weight. The insult never left me. Have you ever made fun of others, because of what they look like? No. It's awful. Do you think it’s cute when you’re leaving a place, and a guy says “no hug?” What a dick move. Some people don't like hugs. Do you wear short shorts (if you’re a girl)? I didn't know short shorts were specific to females. Anyway, no. I hate my legs WAY too much. Who are you the most uncomfortable around? My sister's in-laws and her husband. Who has your heart? I'm never giving that to another person again. I've got it. But to answer the general question that's being asked, I've fallen like head over heels for Girt. Should cloning ever be allowed to happen? I think it's pretty... I don't know the right word. It just seems immoral to me? Especially when you start cloning things with an actual conscience. I can see a lot of problems arising from it. Are you impatient with really shy people? Well no, given I'm one of 'em. Does your house have air conditioning throughout, or do you have one that sits in your window? Throughout. What is the most ridiculous band name you’ve heard recently? Recently? Idk. Would you ever get a fashion mullet? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO mullets are so ugly alsdkfj;aljdl;jwe Do you believe that Jesus lived and is returning? Isn't it historical, documented fact he was a living person? Even if that is true though, I don't believe in his "miracles." Do you believe in spiritual gifts? No. Do you believe in callings? No. If you were rich, would you get a professional photoshoot done? UM hell yeah. Pls take pictures of me that help me believe I'm even just 0.001% pretty.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''set fire to the rain'' by adele

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moonchopsticks-old · 4 years ago

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just finished aa4 and really liked it! quick thoughts:

-apollo has quickly become one of my favorite characters in aa! he really struck that sweet spot between admirable and endearing for me--a hardworking, quick-thinking young man, who grew up as an orphan and clawed his way up to success and a new family in the wrights, and who’s also unrelentingly snarky, can’t whisper for his life, is terrified of heights, and cries over people that he hardly knows. what a dork, i love him. i think they leaned a little heavily on the ‘greenhorn’ aspect of his personality-- quite a few moments where there were things i had figured out but wasn’t allowed to do anything with until another character jumped in and was like “apollo u sweet summer child THIS is the answer”. also i spoiled myself a little and i know that the next two games have “traumatize apollo” as a running theme so a little apprehensive and hoping they at least develop his character well or smth

-mixed feelings about the ‘perceive’ mechanic bc narratively it’s cool as hell but it was frustrating to crawl through the text looking around for a very slight change in the zoomed-in sprite, especially if it wasn’t clear what they’re fibbing about which is very often. had to use a guide on those parts pretty often. also it’s just like “hey you were twitching! you’re obviously hiding something!” “oh gee you caught me i’ll spill the beans” like i feel like it could’ve been a little more subtle or gradual, idk.

- love apollo and trucy’s relationship so much!! their banter is so cute and funny and they pull off the straight man/funny man routine really well. ik nick and maya have a similar thing but the vibes were just different, for some reason. they had very strong sibling vibes (even before the reveal), which i loved. them being half-siblings was pretty contrived (like a lot of things in this game and this series lmao) but i dont really mind too much

-on a related note, why can’t they know that they’re siblings. when’s the “right time” to tell them. why can’t they just reunite with their mother who has her memories back and loves them. phoenix wh

-on another related note i can understand how jaded and disillusioned phoenix got after he got disbarred but i honestly didn’t like the whole “mysterious cryptic mentor playing 4d chess” schtick that the game pulled. it feels ooc, especially considering you briefly play as present-day him in the final case and his internal monologue doesn’t seem too different from original trilogy phoenix, or at least the phoenix you see before disbarment in the final case (although i was rly invested in finishing up the case and wasn’t paying that much attention to phoenix’s characterization specifically, so i might’ve missed stuff). phoenix’s arc of growth was great and complete in t&t and it feels like they just...gave him a whole new personality. also phoenix goes back to being a lawyer in the next two games...does he just revert back to being regular ol phoenix? idk, maybe i’m missing some stuff right after my first playthrough but it just felt weird.

-plot was really convoluted and contrived even for ace attorney (havent played aa5 or 6 yet, so idk if it gets worse). lamiroir just happened to be apollo and trucy’s mom, if zak had just been frank with phoenix and given the original diary page to him OR valant hadn’t tampered with the crime scene this whole thing could’ve been avoided. why did zak want to take down phoenix in poker to the extent of planting cards on him to make it look like he cheated when phoenix was the one who defended him in court and he’s the one taking care of his daughter??

-way too many flashbacks to things that happened 5 real life minutes ago

-g u i t a r ‘ s s e r e n a d e

-kind of wish they had done more with trucy. i liked her but i feel like there was potential, especially since the game implies that she’s putting on a brave front for apollo, and i wish they had expanded on that a little more. like....her birth father who had been presumed dead for years ends up being alive right up until mere months before the reveal. she’s the one that ends up delivering the forged evidence into phoenix’s hands as a child, even though she was completely unaware of it at the time. she and phoenix latch onto each other pretty quickly, which was very cute, but we get little insight to how she thinks of her biological father, who we can tell she loved and misses but not much else. maybe i’m just digging for angst, idk, but it still felt like there could’ve been more. (also i really wanted more phoenix-being-a-dad content!! be a dad to ur daughter sir!!)

-klavier was pretty good! it was refreshing to have a prosecutor that wasn’t after ‘perfection’ or had a vendetta against defense attorneys/the protag, but he still managed to come off as a competent opponent. his whole rockstar persona was very cheesy but i liked it lol. (also really hilarious to me that the third case starts with him giving discounted tickets to trucy and apollo, his opponents in actual legal court) also i knew people shipped him and apollo but i wasn’t expected the game to be so forthright with it. like how else are you supposed to interpret klavier saying “i’m used to being inspected by the ladies but this is the first time ive felt like this with a man”????

-ema skye!!! loved her and glad to see her in a spotlight role but it was just kind of sad seeing her perpetually grumpy. ik people didn’t like that there were so many forensic touchpad/mic minigames but i didn’t really mind it, they were kinda fun if sometimes a little tedious

-i for sure thought that valant had been directly involved with the murder in turnabout serenade (my initial theory was that valant was masquerading as daryan during set 3 while daryan shot letouse, which was why 2nd guitar was off during the recording). also i hated daryan’s hair, why does he have a military grade skunk torpedo on his head,

-wright anything agency adopt vera challenge

-this has already gone on long enough so tl;dr solid 7.5/10 would play again once i forget what happens a little bit

#my echo chamber #long post #wow this ended up being a lot longer than i expected #now let me dispense my thoughts that nobody cares about into the void of tumblr....be well.....#ace attorney #aa4 #ace attorney spoilers #i liked this game a lot but i think og trilogy still has my heart #characters were great here but i really miss maya and gumshoe and edgeworth and original flavor phoenix....#been watching press buttons and talk's playthrough of it while i do work and it's honestly golden

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bbrandy2002 · 6 years ago

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Wacky Drabble #17: Liam’s Smut

Part 3

Masterlist

Part One Part Two

“Riley’s” Fic/What Happens In Fydelia

This is part of @emceesynonymroll ’s #wackydrabbles. This weeks prompt is: There is a certain taste to it.

Liam x Riley and Liam x Hana x Maxwell

Word count: Lets just say, the limit doesn’t exist. So Sorry Enna😲 ……2143

A/N: Its been a hella crazy, hectic week and Im Not too thrilled with how this turned out but it is what it is.

Chapter Summary: In an attempt to get Riley to understand how he feels, Liam writes his own smut with shocking results.

**Special Note: @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore did not write any part of this, therefore, this drabble should not reflect on her far superior talent. I had no plans to write this when I wrote the previous drabble or I would have never drug her name into it…but, ya’ll just had to see what Liam wrote 😂 Thanks Bleakmore for being such a good sport!

This is MY attempt to write a story within a story, that includes smut (not my forte), in Bleakmore’s writing style, with a fictional character as a contributor, while also switching back and forth in my own writing style….God have mercy on all of you!!!!

MY READ MORE DID NOT WORK AGAIN...tagged as long post

————————————-

Riley’s eyes flitted at the screen as she scanned the words written before her. It was quite obvious by the content and plot of this story, one person in particular was meant to read it-her, and it had Liam written all over it. If those two things didn’t make it clear enough, the username, @inyourfacerileybrooks-love-liam, was the biggest indicator her husband had bested her.

A sea of crimson rippled across her face and heaving chest as she shifted onto her side, adjusting the laptop to lay on the bed next to her, full of resentment and outrage. If she was being honest with herself, she felt more guilt than anything.

If he wanted to “out smut” her, she’d be damned not to see what she was up against. She sighed heavily as she began to delve into his-little story.

________

Liam Fucks Hana Five Ways From Sunday With His Enormous Dick”

A new collaborative drabble by @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore and newcomer @inyourfacerileybrooks-love-liam

NSFW 🍋🍋🍋

Summary: This takes place in Fydelia, during the engagement tour, where Liam had caught his girlfriend, Riley, having sex with Drake in the courtyard.

(Liam)

“Bastien!”, I yelled, “arrest these two for treason, indescency in public, and…”, upon seeing the little Hershey bar wrappers scattered on the ground from Drake’s smores, “….litering”.

Seeking my forgiveness, Riley sobbed and pleaded for her release, citing temporary insanity, as her reasoning for betraying me in such a manner.

I did not care.

As my head guard took them both away in shackles and chains, I stopped him momentarily, “Bastien?”.

He turned to acknowledge me, “Yes, Your Majesty”.

“Throw away the key”.

I never wanted to see their sorry faces again. They both will spend the rest of their days in the palace dungeon, in misery, never to see daylight .

Riley rolled her eyes, “real subtle, Liam”, she murmured, before continuing….

I left the scene of their sexual crime feeling hurt and destroyed. Everything I had done since my coronation had been to protect her….Her! When I spoke those three words in the hedge maze before we made love for the first time, I meant them….I loved her.

Truth is, I never stopped.

I never will.

I would have gone to the far reaches of the universe to love her and show her love. I would have given her anything, do anything she asked, gave her my very own life to protect her, yet, it wasn’t enough to keep her. She didn’t think I was man enough to be those things for her, a lover, a protector, a soul mate, a confidante…my best friend.

She wanted Drake Walker for that.

Shame…there is a certain taste to it. Extremely spicy? Maybe. If so, Riley’s mouth was on fire. She pushed herself up from lying down on her side and gently tossed the laptop onto the bed. If there was anything she was ever sure of in life, it was that Liam loved her and always had. Those words she just read, were meant for her, in the here and now.

Her stomach began to twist and turn, a sour taste rising in the back of her throat. She eased herself from the bed to stand, wiping away the steady streams of hot tears that moistened her cheeks.

She ran to the bathroom, shutting the door and fell to her knees before the cold porcelain, emptying the foulness of her betrayal inside of it. Feeling miserable for hurting Liam and causing him such pain.

“Mommy?..daddy?”, Nikolas called out as he sleepily entered his parents empty bedroom.

Without a reply, he stepped in further, his little, beady blue eyes darting around, seeking to find his mom and dad, his ears perking up at hearing the shower running.

Nikolas decided to wait for them to come out of the bathroom, not knowing Liam had stayed in his study last night. Grabbing onto one of the large wooden posters at the foot of the bed, he placed one foot on the frame and hoisted himself up, crawling playfully to the center.

He rose to his feet and jumped up and down several times before landing on his backside with a high bounce, giggling with pure delight. Riley’s laptop caught his eyes, resting on her pillow, open wide with the screensaver of a half naked, Ryan Reynolds bouncing around consistently. He perched himself on the edge of the bed, his short legs swinging freely over the side, as he laid the laptop in his lap.

He knew he wasn’t permited to use electronic devices without adult supervision, however, in his mind, that was not something he was concerned with. His tiny finger ran over the touchpad as his ears listened intently for the shower to stop. Nik’s eyes narrowed on the words that flashed before him, his hand cupped over his mouth….“daddy did what to Aunt Hana?”…..

Returning to my room at the estate, wounded and dispirited, I pour one drink after another, drowning my sorrows. My ultimate goal was to feel nothing, to forget the love of my life ever existed….if only for this night.

Soon, the dizzying effects of the alcohol begin to take its hold on me. I shed my suit jacket, feeling warmth, tossing it absentmindedly on the bed. I began to roll up the sleeves of my dress shirt, when a gentle knock alerted me to the door. I stumble haphazardly across my suite to see who it is at this late hour.

Hana and Maxwell stood opposite of me with looks of concerns and disappointment.

(Hana)

Maxwell and I stand before Liam, who looks like he has spent the evening wallowing in what Riley and Drake had done to him. By now, the entire court and press had gotten word of their very public display of affection….if thats what you would call it. When Maxwell and I were made aware of the situation, we thought he could use a friend, a shoulder to cry on, and-The Game.

The King invites us into his lavish executive suite, lit only by the moonlight’s glow through the clear glass of the balcony door. A near empty bottle of scotch sits on the coffee table in front of the sofa with a pack of cigarettes and a full ash tray.

“Liam”, I wrap him in a warm hug, “we are so sorry for what happened. Is there anything we can do?”.

“Yeah, buddy”, Maxwell said with an encouraging smile, “we came to cheer your up”.

Liam crosses to the center of the room and slumps down onto the couch, grabbing the bottle of scotch, “I appreciate that, but…I don’t think anyone can help me tonight”.

I look to Maxwell, who gives me a knowing look and a nod. We avert our attention back to the King who is lighting up his next cigarette and falling back into the couch.

I wink at Maxwell. It’s time.

Maxwell and I move to the sofa. He plops down on the end opposite of Liam and I settle myself in between them; there was only enough room for the three of us.

(Liam)

I’m grateful that Maxwell and Hana are so concerned for my wellbeing, however, I really just want to be left alone.

Hana shifts next to me and places a delicate hand on my knee. If I weren’t so inebriated, that act alone would seem almost inappropriate for a lady of my court. I take a quick draw and exhale the toxic fumes towards the ceiling.

“Your Majesty”, her voice sweet and low, “Maxwell and I would like to play a…"game”..with you.“

I smile at her and lightly squeeze the hand she has resting on my knee, “I’m not really in the mood for games..maybe another time”.

“Come on daddy, play the game with Uncle Max and Aunt Hana”

I catch Maxwell’s hand moving just below the hem of Hana’s knee length dress, gliding under the fabric as he caresses her thigh, inching higher and higher. I quirk my brow, curious at to what this knucklehead was doing.

Hana closes her eyes, appearing to melt into his touch, soft moans escaping her lips. I scoot further away, unclear as to what the hell is going on.

The intricate lace of Hana’s light pink panties become visible as Maxwell’s finger disappears under it. Her usually, elegant hand, pressing him further and deeper into her. I avert my eyes and begin to whistle uncomfortably, wondering if these two came to cheer me up by…fucking in front of me?

Hana’s sultry voice beckons for me. “I dare you to touch me too, Your Majesty”, an inviting grin appears on her face as Maxwell removes his fingers from her. To say I am baffled would be an understatement, yet, my cock starts to harden with anticipation.

“Do it, do it, do it”, an oddly subdued Maxwell begins to pressure me with a shit-eating grin.

I shake my head insistently, “I..I can’t touch Lady Hana like that”, I wanted to, she’s gorgeous and talented, and by the looks of Maxwell’s glistening fingers, fucking soaked. I lean forward and put out my cigarette, planning to get away from whatever the hell kind of game these two are playing. I’ve played Monopoly, I’ve played checkers, never have I “played” Stick a Finger in The Pussy.

My heart races as she grabs my hand and pulls it towards her. I hesitate, but, dammit, I’m only a man. My fingers roam over the wetness of her panties, I can smell her essence and it completely overcomes me. I make my way under the lace; she is warm and slick. I begin to move with precision through her folds and she groans my name. Hana’s giftedness never fails…I can honestly say, I do feel a little more cheerful afterall.

Through her moaning, she dares Maxwell to suck my dick. I laugh, oh the Hana…she’s such a jokester, until that son of bitch gets up and kneels before me. In my drunken state, I don’t move as my lifelong friend unbuckles my leather belt and slowly unzips my pants. He releases my cock from its confines…is this really happening? Hana squirms under my touch and I can tell she is close to the edge, as Maxwell’s hot tongue curls around my shaft.

“Nikolas!”, Liam’s voice booms disapprovingly as he stands at the doorway, “are you on your mother’s laptop?”

A panic-stricken Nikolas, jolts from being caught, then squints his eyes as he watches his father approach him.

Liam towers over his young son, hands on his hips with a displeased glare. “Well…what do you have to say for yourself?”

Nikolas remains quiet for a moment before Liam presses him again for an answer. Without warning, he cries out, “You are a bad man daddy! A very bad man!”. He jumps off the bed, pushing himself past Liam, wailing and sobbing back to his room, where his door could be heard slamming shut.

The bathroom door opens and a towel clad Riley slips out, “What was that?”

Liam scratches his unkempt hair, perplexed at his son’s outburst, “I’m not sure. I caught him on your laptop before he told me I was a very bad man and cried himself out of the room”

Riley swiveled the laptop he left on the bed towards her, leaning over it in search of what caused her young child to explode. Her lips moved quietly as she read until, “YOU HAD A THREESOME WITH HANA AND MAXWELL?!”, she blinked wildly, “…my baby is gonna need therapy for life”.

Liam grabbed the device from her, “I most certainly did not”. He read the post for himself, gasping at each sentence, nodding his head incessantly, “No…No…animal sounds?…golden shower?…Hana milked our prostates? Drake escapes the dungeon and kills me with marine life?…I didn’t write this, I swear. I only wrote the first part and Bleakmore assured me she would give it a loving ending”.

Skeptical at his story, Riley points to the screen, “Look”, her eyes focus in as she points to the screen, reading aloud, “Never ask a Drake stan to betray him…You’ve been… Bleakmored”. She bites her lip to control the urge to laugh.

“Bleakmored?”, he sighs, “Bleakmored?…I hope she knows she has traumatized our son”, he closes his eyes in disbelief before Riley wraps her arms around his waste and draws him closer to her.

She stares up at her husband with a loving smile and sincerity, “I’m sorry you were Bleakmored…and…I’m sorry I wrote that story about Drake. You are the only man I want, My King”, she trails kisses across his neck and palms his hardened groin, “maybe you can finish your smut where you left off, with me”.

Liam shudders under the intensity of her hands moving in perfect motion, “Only if you let me… milk you, My Queen”.

Riley lips curl into a devilish grin “I’ll get the Vasoline and rubber gloves”.

Wacky Drabblers and Permatags: @emceesynonymroll @burnsoslow @jessiembruno @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @romanticatheart-posts @stopforamoment @katedrakeohd @pedudley @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @drakesensworld @ao719 @janezillow @eileendannie @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @hopefulmoonobject

#liam x mc #the royal heir #choices trr #king liam x mc #wacky drabbles #liam x riley #bbrandy2002 #long post

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thedoctor1002 · 5 years ago

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Idk, I never posted one of my fics here but guess I'll try ~

Also, English is not my first language so feel free to correct me QwQ

Fandom: Psycho-Pass -season 1- (is this still a thing?)

Characters: Kogami Shinya, Sasayama Mitsuru, OC

Prompt (it was in Italian, so I'll translate): write a story using three among these words: cloud, dusk, thunderstorm, storm, hull, bay, shelter, sail, night

Title: Log date: 2110/02/28 (Friday) 22:04

---

The lights of the bay flicker dynamically before your eyes.

They dance hypnotically, of the same cyan colour of your office’s walls, but with a whole different beat. They drink the red and white trails from the traffic, they shatter and multiply in the tears of an inclement rain. I know how much you hate it, you just can’t stand going on recon with an umbrella. On the other hand, I love it.

Rain brings us close together under the waterproof cloth and I manage to observe details that neon lights often hide from me: the precise way you part your hair, the last few drops of the jasmine perfume on your jacket, your long lashes. Shion thinks they’re fake. We always fight over it, can you believe me?

After all, you’ve never been the kind of woman to wear such frills.

A notification arrives, the acid light of your impalpable PC breaks through the sacred dark from where you pretend you don’t see me. It digs your silhouette and paints you like a ghost on the huge windows of the Public Safety Bureau.

Your jet-black hair lay on your back like varnish pouring over the white silk of your blouse.

“Pulling an all-nighter, Inspector Matou?” I ask casually, exposed. With you, after all, I always am: you’re the only one that can shush my shitty jokes.

But this time you laugh slightly: nothing more than a spike, a trembling breath that shakes your ribs and lips.

“The forecasts say that the storm won’t stop until tomorrow morning,” you tell me, sitting at your desk, “also, I’ve been delaying this paperwork through all week, it's about time I get it done. Might as well do some overtime and get rid of it, don’t you think?”

“You’re such a workaholic.” I label you, realizing how lucky I am being allowed to do it: Ginoza, that prude, would have never let it slide “You should leave some for the rest of the precinct: make 'em earn their wages.”

A tired smile crosses your face as you tap your fingers on the keyboard. It’s so clear you’re trying to avoid my glance.

You used to look for it.

You looked for my eyes at briefings, in that discrete way that eventually shocked everyone. You looked for them among alleys, as soon as you heard a gunshot or the chocked sound of a fight.

And when you found me, it felt like a 7 miles free fall.

“How are the legs going?” I dare to ask. I see the hollow structure of your new shins below the hem of your pencil skirt. They swing a bit underneath the glass of your desk. You didn’t lose your damn tic, your right heel shakes like the needle of a sewing machine even when you seem calm.

You shrug and drink the bottom of an already empty glass of water.

I shouldn’t have asked. It breaks my heart, to see you like this.

You don’t give me an answer and massage the back of your knee with a sigh. Lately, I feel like you’re avoiding me.

You’re turning back into the one you were before: uncompromising, cold and distant. I wonder if the bunch of ingrates downstairs have been calling you Dobermann again. I wonder if you’re still as relentless.

You worry me: your stress level is getting darker and darker. You don’t want old Kasei to take issues with you, not again.

I can imagine how you must have felt, the night when this mess happened.

You most likely got pissed, if I do know you.

I mean, did they really think I got away on my own? I bet you never doubted me: no one knows an Enforcer better than its Inspector.

“Runaway?! Have you lost your minds?” Sasayama?!”

Those were the first words you said when they rescued you. You spoke them way before cleansing your lungs from the rotten water of the river, way before asking Masaoka if you’d have ever got back to feeling your lower legs. They hurt like hell and you had to pull them around like sandbags.

“They got him” you panted, holding tight on your mentor’s coat “They took him away, I tell you!” The one that kidnapped him wasn’t a latent criminal. The Dominator didn’t activate, not even when they shot me. Please, believe me. Check on the log files, please.”

Crime coefficient: 0.

I know that bug still haunts you.

Cause, after all, it’s can’t be anything else: who on earth is that Makishima to fly under the Sibyl Sistem’s radar? Who can fool a network that knows your crimes before you do? And how is it possible that the silhouette that kneecapped you and threw you into a river could possibly be innocent?

You haven’t lost your mind, Inspector: the Dominator betrayed me, too.

Don’t think I don’t know how pitiful must have been, the next three days.

Makishima isn’t real. Forget it, it was just a delirium. You were in shock.

It was the trauma, dear. It was a breakdown. It was burnout syndrome.

You’d use some holiday, darling. Take a week. Take two. Go somewhere far, no, better: just stay at home. Go to therapy. Keep yourself busy, don’t think about it. Work. Also, don’t work: it wears you out!

They put you back on your feet in less than six hours, but nobody allowed you to join search parties. Heaven forbid your stress level getting any darker. Heaven forbid that yet another good Inspector gets demoted among those damn Enforcers. But, still, in the whole IT section, there wasn’t a single nerd that could get that night's logs. That's one funny thing, ain't it?

Woman, sometimes I wish your damn head wasn't that hard. I wish you didn't follow the Forensics to get a lift, so soon after the deed.

At least, you could have listened to Kogami. Shit, didn't you see how pale he was? You didn't even need the Dominator to read him, his stress level was mindblowing!

You should have believed him when he told you you didn't want to enter that alley. First off, it was already full of other detectives and analysts. I have no idea what kind of business you had to do in there. Second thing second, Kogami has an eye for certain matters. Do you think he didn't notice I’ve always been all over you? Not gonna lie, maybe I told him about you, once or twice.

But no, of course, you had to get in.

The software that taught you how to walk on those carbon stilts made you stand your ground and bark a "For fuck's sake, Shinya, move!" worthy of the Dobermann’s reputation. Even those who hadn't been called out made way.

But your new legs didn't hold you, when you saw what they had made of my corpse.

I'm sorry, Katsumi, I never wanted to upset you like that.

You know how much I would have rather have a more heroic death. I don't know, like, in the middle of a shooting, saving the day. It would have been much classier, less tacky, less trash. I think I deserved it, that's all.

You stop typing and rub your temples. You shelter what’s left of your lipstick behind your hand. I wish I could kiss it off, instead of watching you consume it in a ruby red halo in the notch between your thumb and your index.

You lift your eyes only for Kogami, who’s passing by your office like a nurse in its night shift.

“So?” he asks in a whisper, putting more care in that question than I could have ever done. More than anybody could have ever done, because he’s the only one that gets you, right now. You two seem like the only ones who lost something.

You shake your head slowly, staring at the monitor and the dangerously high Crime Coefficient on the display.

“It's not working” you wail softly, misty-eyed. I can’t believe it, is it still you?

“They’re gonna kick me out anyway, if it doesn’t lower quickly” you continue, with that realism of yours. I used to call you a jinx for that but, at the end of the day, you always got our backs. “It’s for the best if I just resign. I’m gonna keep what's left of my dignity, at least.”

The dark profile of my best friend looks through me, as he sits on the armchair next to mine. He would like to say something, a word of encouragement maybe, we all know it in this damn room, but numbers shut our mouths.

“You could become an Enforcer” he proposes.

Goddammit, Shinya, did we work with the same person? Katsumi as an Enforcer?

And there you go, shaking your head. You hold your face in your hands and let your raven hair hide your visage.

“Can you imagine me, following orders? I do know how to work, I can do it better than three-quarters of our colleagues and I’ve never had problems remarking it. They’d eat me alive if they had the chance. Dogs celebrate on the corpses of lions.”

“But lions remain lions and dogs stay dogs.” Kogami finishes, stealing my lines.

I notice the slight trembling of your finger, as you tap your touchpad to send that last confirm.

In a few moments, the system will have your resignation registered. Your profile won’t unlock your Dominator anymore and in a few days time, just enough for you to collect your belongings, you won’t even manage to enter the office.

Who’s gonna explain to old Kasei that there's more of your stuff here than in your apartment?

I’d ask you what do you plan on doing with your life, but tonight’s decision seems definitely brave enough to call it a day.

I look at the tabs you open in your browser, they mirror in the windows behind you.

Air travel.

Argentina, Cuba, States, New Zealand, Germany, Kenya. You go around the world in 80 seconds flat, you multiply your chances and spread them all through the air in front of you, in a complex diagram that doesn’t lead anywhere.

I never wanted to take you away from your home, you don’t deserve this.

You cover your eyes with a hand and use the other one to pick a random selection from your atlas.

Greece.

“Well, at least it’s on the sea.” you wrap up, condensing in a handful of words the only satisfaction you can find in starting a brand new life.

You two stare at the transparent screenshot of your flight, the countdown on the web page seems way too joyful.

“It’s so exciting, Katsumi Matou! Check-in your luggage. Your journey will begin in: 06 days: 17 hours: 34 minutes: 21 seconds”

20.

19.

18.

Seconds pass by, in complete silence.

“Do you think it would be a burden to him?” you ask Shinya, “Do you think he’d understand?”

Who would have guessed that a cynic one like yourself could believe in the afterlife? I wish I were here to ask you. I wish we could have spoken about life, death, sex, about things long gone and things yet to be.

His hand squeezes yours gently, as he looks at you in the eye, hoping to stop the train to Paranoidland from setting off.

“It’s not your fault” he reassures you as he can: the both of you wouldn’t make the average person’s empathy.

But he’s right, though, it really isn’t: I know you’ve done anything you could. It’s always been like that.

“Maybe I owe him” you draft “Even if they don’t believe in Makishima, maybe one day I could have proved he exists.”

The teal of your Psycho-Pass would suit you wonderfully, if it wasn’t a description of your mental health.

What could you possibly do in these conditions? You’d have ended up in a cubicle, filing loss and theft reports. You would have never made it to the dossiers, surely not to those of such a controversial case. Making you end up in a study room would have been my final bullshit. I’m happy with your choice, really. I would have loved visiting Europe someday.

“Don’t talk nonsense.” Kogami rebukes you, externalizing what I’ve been thinking all along: “I’m going to look out for your man: your team has already given way too much. I’m gonna find him, Matou, cold case or not.”

You nod, but it’s clear you don’t believe him. I can read through you, you’re a terrible liar.

I don’t think you don’t trust him, most likely you’ve done the math and figured that working on an independent case is far too difficult for an Inspector, let alone for an Enforcer.

And there it is, my fall. After an exhausting chase, you finally look into my eyes, even though -according to Shinya- you’re most likely staring at the void.

Despite being used to such races, believe me, I’ve missed you.

“I’m just so sorry.” you finally whisper, giving me a bitter smile.

Try and stop me, Ginoza, tell me once again how inappropriate it is: I don’t mind anymore. I get up and I don’t hesitate while holding you and leaving a kiss on your hair, shamelessly.

“I’m going to grab some coffee” I announce, walking backwards to the door like a shrimp, just to look at my dearest friends a bit longer. “I’d get you one, but I’m short on coins. Maybe next time.”

“See you, Inspector.”, Kogami greets you, leaving alongside me.

“Be good.” you wave back, as we were all to meet again tomorrow.

Walking through the dark alley, I can hear an excerpt from our last conversation through the opaque glass of your office.

“You’re jerk, Sasayama!”

I can hear you laughing out loud, through the crackly recording. You laughed at my gall, with that warm, strong, sweet voice of yours, mocking me. Admit it: mine, after all, were the only compliments that could make you blush.

It’s incredible how we managed to joke even inside a car that was taking us on a crime scene. To an external eye, we might have looked disrespectful. Truth is I’ve always feared death so much I just had to laugh at the reaper.

“Oh, come on, what would it take? Come with me to the Precinct’s New Year’s dinner, the 17th is around the corner!” I kept annoying you, as you were too busy driving to mind my dumb flirt attempts. I still can’t get how we never had an accident. “Be good, Katsumi, give me a joy to live for!”

“You could always ask Shion, you know? You always give her more attention, after all.”

I hear the subtle sound of the wheels stopping, the parking brake cracking and it’s like Ogishima’s outskirts appear before my eyes, in that same January night. That place gave me goosebumps, but I would have hated if you understood it.

“Here we are” you announced, with still a bit of resentment in your voice. You unlocked the passenger’s door and I remember I left your Dominator in the car’s trunk: I didn’t want you to follow me. Not that time.

“You scare me when you pay so much attention” you commented, noticing how serious I got “will you tell me why are you insisting so much to keep on searching? Kogami got the guy. Tomorrow we go, we arrest him and it's thank you, next.”

My answer has been recorded as a distant and muffled noise, but I still can trace it: “He’s not the one, I tell you. I have another suspect, but I need a more solid base. And you’re staying, Inspector.”

“Staying?! You’ve gone crazy!” you laughed, locking the corporate sedan behind you “If something were to happen to you, or worse if you didn’t come back, Kasei would…”

“I said you’re staying: it’s dangerous.”

“Sasayama, our work is dangerous,” you replied, contemptuous, understanding that clearly among the gear I brought I didn’t count yours and going back to the car to get it “One more risk won’t make a difference: if I have to drop dead, it can either be here, at home or god knows where.”

“Will you join me for the precinct’s dinner, though?”

And here is a sequence that the voice recorder surely can’t have grasped, but that I could remember even in a thousand years. You cast an outraged glance over me from above the trunk’s door, panting through a half-smile. You shook your head, tucking your hair behind your ear. And finally, after refusing my invitations since 17th November, during lunch break, you smiled shrugging.

“Deal, come on, just make way” you sighed, as your heels echoed on the wet concrete “Still, you’re a jerk.”

“I recorded it: you have no excu-”

The audio file interrupts.

End of recording.

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