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writteninkat · 3 years

Text

i - your grandma must have been strong

word count: 2,007

"I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you."

index

You zipped your last luggage closed, huffing tiredly as you stood up. You looked around you- your empty room, your plain, pink walls that were once decorated with many posters and pictures, your floor that was once covered by a big fluffy white rug and some clothes and stuffed toys.

You sigh, smiling. You were surely going to miss this place. Your back tingles as you turn around to see your mother leaning on the door frame, looking at you with sad eyes.

"Do you have to go?" Her voice is soft and calming- it always has been. She's the only person who could ever calm you down especially when your father left the two of you to work at the Heroes Association in Japan.

"I want to be able to protect people. Children, women, the elderly... I wanna be someone people can depend on. Someone you can depend on." You place a hand on her arm which she covers with her own, he warm palm along with her soft smile about to send you to tears.

She nods, walking inside your room to help with your baggage. "The movers just finished loading up your other stuff. All we need is your excess baggage." She pushes the luggage towards the door, you mirroring her actions.

She cups both of your cheeks, looking you at you with adoring, glassy eyes. It's your first time being separated from your mother in you sixteen years of existence. The two have always been attached to the hip, you traveled everywhere together, even as the two of you had constant arguments you could never stay mad at each other for too long.

She was the only one you had.

"Stay safe in Japan, okay? If your father gave you a hard time, call me. I'll pick you up no matter what time it is, no matter where you are. I love you." She kisses your forehead and you finally let your tears fall as you wrap your hands around her thing wrists.

"I love you so much mom." You sob, hanging your head as your mother wrapped her arms around you. You hear a voice of a woman through the speakers, telling you your flight was taking off in a few minutes.

You quickly give your mother a kiss on the cheek before letting one of your guards assist you with your bags. You waved good bye to your mom and soon after, your trusted body guard.

You were on your way to Japan, to a new life, a new school, new friends and hopefully to reach your new goal: to prove yourself worthy of becoming a hero without your father's help.

You walk towards the giant gates of UA, taking a deep breath before finally taking a step inside the campus. Your heart thumped on your chest nervously as your palms began to prespire. You kept your eyes forward, not wanting to do anything with the teens around you as your only goal was to pass the entrance exam. You walked inside the building you were lead to, taking a seat at the very back in fear of attracting any unwanted attention.

"What's up UA candidates?! Thanks for tuning into me your school DJ! Just as your application said, today you will be conducting your exams in seven different locations! Your location has been assigned to you in the paper you were given." The loud blond man with long hair swept way to the back of his head announced, making you click your tongue. Not to be a mood buster, but isn't he being a little too loud?

You take the piece of paper he was talking about, eyes lower to read the letter that's written on it. Test Location: Battle Center C.

"Excuse me sir but I have a question." Your eyes fall to a purple-headed boy with glasses whose hand is raised. The blond teacher acknowledges him and he begins talking about how there are four villains in the paper you were given and not only three.

He then begins running his mouth about how a minor mistake such as this would be an embarrassment for a school such as UA. You scoff, muttering something about having a stick up his ass.

After the teacher ended his speech, you along with the other students began piling out of the room and to your designated battle centers. As you enter your specified location, you take out the black leather gloves from your pocket, wearing them. You clenched and unclenched your hands to make sure that it fit you well.

"Hey grandma." An unfamiliar voice catches your attention, unfortunately for you the rude nickname was directed towards you.

"Grandma?" You raise a brow, unsure what he meant by it.

"You white hair reminds me of my grandma's." He snickers, pointing at the white streaks of hair you have beside either sides of your face as a few other students chuckling behind him. He looks plain, very, very boring. "Why don't you give up on this exam, grandma? Your knees may start hurting."

The signal went off and the robots began moving behind you. As you kept a straight face, your hands begin glowing a blinding white light as a black with blue and silver accent claymore appears in your hands. You run to your left, applying your speed quirk as you ran towards the gigantic robots, swinging your sword vertically.

The slash creates the same blinding white light, the robots, the buildings and concrete ground that the light touches all disintegrating into nothing. You speed into the other robots, stealing the targets of other students as you accumulated your points. Once you finish and only a few robots are left, you return to your spot to where the plain-looking boy along with his little friends were still standing at, jaws hanging eyes blown wide.

"You grandma must have been very strong."

"I got in." You say into your phone and you hear your mother squeal in delight from the other end of the line. A smile breaks into your face and you feel your phone vibrate, signaling a new notification. As you pull your phone away to see what it is, your eyes widen in surprise as you read your notification banner.

'Mom' sent you $100.

"Mom what the heck is the money for?" You chuckle. "I'm not there with you but I want you to celebrate getting into UA. So go use the money and spoil yourself."

"Mom you don't have to-"

"Okay, mom mode off. I demand you go and award yourself eith the money I sent you." Your mom's tone switches from soft and caring to cold and demanding, making you chuckle. "That doesn't suit you at all." You laugh, you can practically /hear/ your mom pout at the other line.

"Okay, okay. I'll do as you say. Thank you, mom. I love you."

"I love you more my baby."

The call ends and you change out of your usual sweats and oversized tee. You put on a black spaghetti strap and high-wasted mom jeans. You hoop in a black belt and fold the ankles of your pants to show your white sock inside your checkered vans. You finish the look with medium-sized hoop earrings and a oversized red zip-up jacket which you leave unzipped with one shoulder hanging off.

You step out of your apartment, pocketing your keys and taking a deep breath in. Japan is just so beautiful, the scenery, the buildings, even the weather was perfect. You strut down your apartment building, scrolling through your phone as you searched for cafes nearby. It was a five minute walk of calm and relaxing vibes. You step into the cafe, eyes darting around the adorable cottage-core aesthetic it had going.

"Hey my name is Mio. What can I get for you this lovely afternoon?" The cashier beams brightly, your day becoming better and better with every move you make. "I'll have a strawberry shortcake as well as a strawberr frappe with extra foam, strawberry syrup and strawberries." You beam back at her and she takes your order with a bright smile, tapoing away on the computer's screen.

"Does your life depend on strawberries or something?" A rough and deep voice asks behind you, causing you to turn around. Once you do, your eyes widen at the sight of a young blond with vermilion eyes. He looked around your age.

"I like strawberries. Is it that big of a sin?" You ask, soft smile across your face as you cross your arms together. The guy had such piercing eyes, those red orbs looked like they could trap you in them forever.

"Not what I'm saying, but if you're that much of a strawberry fan, I recommend their strawberry pop tarts." His eyes drop to the display fridge beside you and your eyes follow his, landing on the adorable little tarts with red jam on top of them.

Just as you were about to order them, the cashier speaks up. "Your total is 1,500 yen." She smiles brightly, making you pout. You didn't want to cause more trouble for her seeing as your bill has already been printed by the machine.

You scan their QR code, paying virtually as she hands you your buzzer. "We'll give you a signal whrn your order is ready. You can find a seat and wait there thank you!"

You turn around at the blond who's looking at you expectantly, "I guess I'll have to try your recommendation some other time." You smile at him, walking off to the table catering two chairs. It was seated at the far back of the cafe, away from the many customers the cafe had.

You began scrolling through your social media, liking the posts of your past classmates and chuckling at some memes you saw.

A plate full of the same tarts with red jam is placed on your white table and you didn't have to look to see who it was. "Is this you way of flirting with me, rubies?" You ask, looking up at him with a teasing, smug smile. His face contorts into annoyance, "Hah? Flirting with you?" He scoffs, "Not a chance. And who're you calling rubies?"

"Your eyes remind me of rubies. They're pretty."

The blond's face relaxes and you push the seat across from you, silently telling him to sit down. He does as 'told', huffing as he watches you pick of a tart and bring it over to your lips. You bite on it, eyes widening as the flavor explodes in your mouth. It tastes sweet but not the sickeningly sweet kind, it's soft soft in the inside and lightly crunchy on the outside.

"You look like you just ate food made by gods." He chuckles, "You look dumb."

"But it really does taste so good!" You've never felt this much excitement since you found out you got into UA. And that speaks a lot given that you've only ever felt this kind of feeling with your mom.

"I should have bought the entire stock if I knew you liked it that much." Your heart skipped at his words. What is this feeling? You felt nervous all of a sudden, you can barely contain your smile and somehow, you didn't want to go home yet. This is a very new feeling for you. It's kind of... scary.

"I'm L/n."

Idiot. Stop it.

"L/n Y/n." You extend your hand towards him which he looks at for a few moments before taking. You shake both of your hands with a soft smile, your thoughts going haywire at how soft his palms feel.

"Bakugou. Katsuki Bakugou."

You pull your hand away, finishing the last piece of strawberry pop tart on your plate before your buzzer turns on. You pick it up, standing up. "Thanks for the tarts. See you around, rubies."

"Call me that one more time and I'll blow your face up."

You snicker, smirking. "Whatever you say, rubies."

#bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x y/n #mha bakugou #bakugou bios #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou x fem!reader #mha imagines #bnha imagines #bakugou fluff

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x0401x · 3 years

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Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #14

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Santa Invasion

“What’s this?”

“Ice cream.”

“Well, I can tell that much just by looking, but...”

“To be precise, it is an ice cream cake.”

A gigantic ladybug was sitting on the low table. Its vivid red and dark brown-like black shades were definitely berries and chocolate. The back was decorated with flowers like marguerite. It was adorable. And huge. It was a hemispherical cake that looked like a basket ball cut in half, the name of a store from Dogenzaka printed on its box. It was 7PM. The last customer had left, I was done with the cleaning and all we had left to do was closing the store. It was still the second week of December, so the mayhem of making provisions for winter presents was a few ways ahead, but the number of clients was increasing little by little.

Just what on earth would this beautiful jeweler come up in such times?

Due to a habit of his from whenever he had something that was hard to say aloud and thus failed to speak up, Mr. Richard Ranashinghe de Vulpian had a serious crease forming just slightly between his brows. It made me feel at ease. This guy didn’t make a face like this when he was burdened with something that was actually difficult to say. He would speak more bland and expressionlessly instead.

“This is a little souvenir.”

“Are you going to a customer’s place after this?”

Richard’s reply was a gentle “no” in English.

He’d been often speaking a mix of Japanese and English lately. When English-speaking customers came by, he would switch completely to English as if for practical assessment, so I was desperate just to keep up with listening to them. I was grateful for having him as my English conversation teacher.

“A certain good-for-nothing who works with finances is currently in Japan, so...”

“Ah, Jeffrey-san, is it? He seemed so busy last time... Sorry, forget what I just said.”

“No need. That is a correct interpretation, so it is nothing to apologize about.”

Despite saying this, Richard’s facial expression did not seem even remotely satisfied as he swiftly took an indigo envelope out of his pocket. It had no seal, so it must have been handed over to him. The content was a pop-out card, and under a paper-craft cake colored with gold leaves and uneven printing, it was written in very tasteful Japanese: “I’m going to hold a party at the hotel, so come over. I’ll be waiting.” The date of the party was today and the place was the room of a luxury hotel in Tokyo. A home party? No, a hotel party.

The title was “Richard’s birthday party”. The plate of the pop-up cake didn’t say “Merry Christmas”. It said “Happy Birthday”.

Christmas Eve on the 24th was this beautiful shopkeeper’s birthday.

As I returned the card to him, a crease once again formed between Richard’s brows as he said with an unsparingly decisive tone, “How very embarrassing.”

“Doesn’t seem so much like it from your face.”

“Because I practiced making it. But this is extremely embarrassing. I think it is not something that warrants going through the trouble of arranging a plane ticket.”

“I wonder if anyone else will be going.”

“It seems Chieko will attend. I received an e-mail yesterday saying, ‘I am going to show up as a surprise so please take care of me’.”

“Is that even a surprise? Well, okay.”

Chieko-san was Richard and Jeffrey’s private tutor in the past and I was acquainted with her to some degree. I wondered if Homura-san, who had married her daughter, was also coming. No, not happening. He was a customer of Etranger, so Richard would probably feel abashed if he did so.

“If it goes on like this, the people lying in wait in that room will just gang up into an assembly to celebrate me.”

“What even is ‘ganging up to celebrate’?”

“They are ganging up on me. I likely will not be able to say anything other than ‘thank you very much’. I need reinforcements. If you would like, could you come with me?”

“Me too? That okay?”

“Of course. The party starts at 8PM probably because it coincides with Etranger’s closing hours. That British safe-like man is not narrow-minded enough to leave you out.”

It was written there that the party would begin at 8PM. We had 30 minutes. There was no spare time to make a pudding. What to do? What should I do?

Richard was apparently unable to let my groaning an “ngh, ngh” while deep in thought go unnoticed. “If it is impossible for you, just say so right away. I know that you are at the final stage of studying for your exams.”

“That doesn’t matter. Why didn’t you tell me a bit earlier about this? If I knew, I could’ve made preparations for it... Aah, is that why?”

“It is. I recall saying that you should refrain from being overly distracted.”

“I don’t think a ‘celebration’ is ‘overly distracting’, though.”

“Anything is fine, so please answer. Will you come or not?”

He didn’t have to go as far as asking me something like that.

I bowed in a way that wouldn’t cause any hairs to fall onto the ice cream ladybug. “I shall humbly accompany you.”

“Very well.”

“Sorry, but before that, I gotta go to the toilet for a bit.”

I hastily rushed to Etranger’s restroom and unlocked my phone in a flash. I then tapped on the e-mail app. Of course, the destination could only be one person.

“Help. I’m sorry but I just got informed about the birthday party, so I have no present.”

Jeffrey-san.

The contents of the message were not at all on a level that someone should send to the person they owed their life to, but he would understand.

The reply came in a matter of seconds. As expected, he worked fast.

“Good evening. I have everything, so there’s no problem if you come empty-handed. There will be champagne, canapés, chicken pie and cake, and I plan to have chocolate fondue coming up at the end.”

There was a proud smiley emoji at the end of the text. It seemed this was going to be a big deal.

Richard would probably have work tomorrow, and he wasn’t the type to get wasted or stuff his face with sweets in the middle of the night. It seemed I also wouldn’t have to worry about dinner. It made me feel sorry. This was the same old pattern. This course of eating and seeing good stuff amidst the confusion of the moment made my stomach hurt when I thought better about it.

“Don’t you know anything that Richard wanted?”

The response came after a moment, “My bad, but nothing comes to mind. How about you give him what you want most?”

What I wanted most. I could only think of refill shampoo and new socks. I’d be ashamed of giving things like that to Richard. After all, this was a mixture of birthday and Christmas party—

Just as I was thinking this, a genius inspiration sprouted in my head. It wasn’t the best solution. Not at all. But I felt it could work. This was too obvious, but if only I had the necessary materials for it, I could do it immediately.

Making up my mind, I came out of the restroom, apologized for making Richard wait, and as we rode to the designated address on the jaguar, I had him stop the car in front of a mass retailer for a moment. I told him I wanted to buy refill shampoo for my home. Richard was exasperated, but didn’t have any suspicions in particular.

We arrived at the hotel, got into the elevator, and on the way to the party venue, I made sure to walk a bit behind Richard. Staying out of his sight was essential.

When he opened the door to the suite, sure enough, Jeffrey-san and Chieko-san were waiting inside. Giving off a relaxed atmosphere, a room-service feast even bigger than what I had imagined from the phone call was waiting on the table for the main guest.

“Happy birthday, Richard. Chieko’s here too. Surprised?”

“Of course. Very surprised. Extremely.”

“Hmm, by the looks of it, I guess there was some information leak. Well, that’s okay! Where’s Nakata-kun?”

“What do you mean ‘where’? He’s right here. Seigi... Seigi?”

My eyes locked with Richard’s. I had locked them with Jeffrey-san’s before that. I was grateful that he had done me the favor of not laughing.

I politely shook my head at my boss, who was making a flabbergasted face. “My name is Santa.”

What I had bought at the mass retailer was a handy Santa makeover set. The three-piece set consisted of a hat, a put-on beard and a Santa costume, but I hadn’t had time to change into the costume, so it was folded up in my bag. I intended to borrow the suite’s bathroom to put on the costume. If I at least had my face ready, I could somehow make it work.

Richard was dumbfounded. It was the obvious reaction. But I wanted him to forgive me for this. After all, it was December and today was a party day.

“I’m Santa Claus! I came from the North Pole. Please take care of me for today!” After introducing myself, I thought that maybe this wasn’t an exemplary self-introduction for Santa, but it was already too late.

Jeffrey-san, who completely livened up the mood whenever he got excited, went along with the joke, saying, “Wah, Santa-san, thank you for coming from such a faraway place!”

I was grateful for that one. And that was how I got away with playing the role of a worldwide mascot-like old man character from the Arctic for the day. The ice cream cake brought by the star of the party was a success, and we had a toast with both champagne and royal milk tea. Chieko-san was wearing a kimono, the remade peridot brooch on her chest.

It had already been more than half a year since then, but to my body, it felt like even longer ago.

My location had moved from Japan to Sri Lanka, as one would expect, and I was busy fully enjoying a spring in which white temple flowers were blooming in Kandy, my new home. But for some reason, Santa was here. A beautiful blond, blue-eyed man slipped in and out of sight, but his outward appearance was that of Santa Claus. It was the kind of Santa costume that you could buy at the costume section of any mass retailer. One of the sad things about unmatched beauty was the fact nobody could actually claim that his natural beauty was ruined by the look. The brilliance of his blue eyes, which looked like they could suck you in, was the same as ever.

“I am Santa Claus. I came from the North Pole.”

“But now’s a hot time of the year.”

“Santa Claus is a symbol of summer in the Southern Hemisphere. I do not think it is particularly strange.”

“T-That might be true. Well, then... what’re you doing?”

“Santa does what Santa does. The tradition of Santa Claus, much like the language of jewels, has a wide variety of legends to it depending on the region, but either way, the role of a saint who grants blessings to little children, women and those in need is a guise commonly demanded in society. And for you, here it is.” Saying this, “Santa” offered me a plastic, loose stone display case that I was all too familiar with. There was a red stone stuck between the cushion and transparent lid. “Can you identify this gemstone?”

“Tourmaline, I guess. Red tourmaline.”

“Good for you. Did you know that it has one more name?”

“Rubellite.”

“Perfect. Large, pinkish-red tourmalines are called by that name, and it is a stone of which huge carved crystals have been loved as works of art, such as the amulet of Empress Dowager Cixi and the Romanov royal treasure, the ‘Strawberry Pendant’.”

As I peeked at the stone inside the case, humming that it was pretty, the beautiful jeweler cleared his throat and started over.

“Just as people’s feelings dwell within beautiful stones, this one is filled with the feeling of celebrating the start of your new life, from your family back in Japan, your friends and your superior at work, with whom you have a relationship other than the aforementioned and that neither of us knows how to define. Santa is wholly thankful for being in the position to bestow you with such a gift. I forgot to say it, but happy birthday. Nakata Seigi-san. I sincerely pray, all the way from my home in the Arctic, that this year will be a fruitful one for you.”

“Thank you. Seriously, thank you for always, Richa...”

“Santa. I am a passing Santa.”

“Then let’s go with that. By the way, if you’re Santa, where are the reindeers?”

When asked this, the man in disguise answered with a cool gaze that the reindeers were using stealth technology nowadays so that they wouldn’t be found by radars, hence they couldn’t be seen. He had it down to the details.

“It’s been about ten years since the last time Santa-san came around. I’ll take good care of this. Santa-san, you take care of your body too. I’ll ask my boss next time I see him about the person who gave you this stone.”

“You should. Well, then.” With a bow, Santa left for a car parked in the courtyard. I probably wasn’t supposed to see him off. I’d feel bad for the stealth reindeers.

The red stone stayed in my hand.

I had told a white lie. It hadn’t been ten years since Santa had last showed up. This was the first time ever since I was born. In my home, there was always someone playing the role of “Santa”, such as Hiromi, Grandma and Nakata-san, so they never tried to tell me nice lies. Nakata-san probably just followed Hiromi’s way of doing things, though. The fact I thought up something like that last December, when Jeffrey asked me what I “wanted most”, might not have been unrelated to this. At any rate, to me, not even once was there any supernatural existence who would leave toys by my bedside if I were a good kid. Until this day.

After a while of standing by the garden, where it was always summer, and listening closely to the cries of birds with my eyes closed, I unlocked my phone. The Wi-Fi range of the house seemed good, and so I could send e-mails immediately. The contents were simple. The destination was my boss, Richard.

“Santa came to my place. But he left so quick that I couldn’t make him tea.”

The reply soon came: “Are you half-asleep?”

If he really thought that I was half-asleep, then maybe I should delay the reply for a few more minutes, I thought, but I didn’t write anything further. The house’s cleaning was half-assed and I had to check the security. I also wanted to know as many of my neighbors as could.

Together with the feeling that I had suddenly been given something I had forgotten, and that I didn’t even know I had forgotten, I put rubellite in the jewelry safe and stepped out into the Sri Lankan provincial city. I had nothing to fear and no hesitation. The ill feeling that I’d be living here alone had disappeared. After all, Santa had come by. Far from elementary school, I was now an adult who had already graduated from university, and it currently wasn’t December but May, where the only anniversary I could think of was my own birthday, yet Santa had come by. Such an impossible thing had happened.

So I could do my best, I thought.

And so, I could be getting ahead of myself, but I began thinking about my plans for this December. Would there be a second chance for Santa to appear? If not, I wanted to make one. I decided to fuss over the outfit a little more and prepare proper gifts this time. Then I’d tell him stories about jewels and try to make him laugh a lot. That, too, was Santa’s duty.

#housekishou richard shi no nazo kantei #housekishou richard #jeweler richard #the case files of jeweler richard #nakata seigi #richard ranashinha de vulpian #richard ranashinghe de vulpian #richard #jr short story collection #jeffrey claremont #novel #tsujimura nanako #yukihiro utako #my translation

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tehrevving · 3 years

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Cocked and Loaded

My piece for the @ssszine. I was waiting until I received my copy to post it buuuut it’s been stuck in about 3 different countries now, so I’ve decided to just go for it.

This is a funny fic that doesn’t take itself too seriously. Enjoy!

The bar is so deserted that Dante can’t even find someone to refill his drink. He just sits there, swirling the ice around his empty glass and staring at the strange fruit bowl in front of him. He doesn’t know why there’s one on the bar, or why it’s filled with only bananas and a giant purple fruit that looks like the emoji thing that young people use when they text. If he’s not going to be able to get another drink, he decides to just leave. He stands up, not noticing the woman standing behind him, lower than his eye line. He almost knocks her to the floor. She’s pretty, older but with a bit too much plastic injected into her face for his tastes.

“Sorry Miss,” he says sheepishly, moving around her.

She puts a hand on his bicep and squeezes, “don’t worry about it big boy.”

Dante carefully lifts her hand off his arm. She just puts her other hand on his chest. “You’re quite a catch aren’t you Love,” she smiles sincerely, through the face fillers. “I’d popped in here for a drink, but now that I’ve seen you. Well I could go for something a little bit more,” she pauses for dramatic effect. “Salty.”

Dante chokes. He’s never heard that one before and it catches him off guard, especially said with such a serious tone. The man behind the camera sighs.

“Cut!” he yells, and the room comes alive.

People are running around, adjusting the angle of the spotlights while the director yells. Dante sits back down on the stool and takes a sip of his whisky, shaking his head. He can’t believe he’s actually doing this.

It was an offer he hadn’t been able to refuse. A simple, quick job attached to a ten thousand dollar cheque. He was already eyeing up a stylish new coat, custom holsters for his guns and the very expensive pizza shop down the road. The catch was the very nature of the job itself. The client wanted him, Dante Sparda, Legendary Devil Hunter, to star in a full frontal pornographic film, for their personal collection.

Dante needed the cash desperately. He’d been sent a script, a time and an address, and now he was here, thrust into the spotlight and still not really sure what was going on.

He thought that he would be walking into an amateur type affair. A casting couch in a dark room with a handycam sort of thing. There’s a whole team of people though, including an eccentric director - stupid hat included - who seems incapable of speaking in a volume lower than a shout.

He takes another look at the client, his co-star. She’s a socialite, rich, influential, and apparently a huge fan of his. She’s nice enough even though there’s just something off about her. She doesn’t look quite right when she smiles. She reminds him of the hellspawn he regularly exterminates.

“One minute warning!”

Dante takes a deep breath and steels himself.

It takes two more attempts for the director to be happy. Dante is already bored of repeating the same thing over and over. He wonders why getting this scene right is such a big deal. It’s not like anyone ever watches the intro to porn films anyway. He just drains his glass and reaches over the bar for the bottle to refill it.

One of the cameramen is next to him suddenly, grinning. “Are you sure drinking more is a good idea?” he smirks, biting back laughter, “it’s all well and good to calm your nerves, but don’t let it affect your performance. If you catch my drift,” he winks.

Dante rolls his eyes, the great Son of Sparda getting whisky dick? Please. Dante reckons that even flaccid he’s got a bigger cock than this idiot. He downs his drink as the man drags him into the next room.

The director has a megaphone now and is screaming into it. He walks over and puts the speaker right next to Dante’s ear. “All you have to do is let her undress you. Got it?”

Dante nods, desperate to stop the ringing in his ear as he’s dragged to the centre of the room.

“Action!”

His co-star stands in front of him again, she’s tiny. He wonders if the camera can even get both of them in the same frame.

Dante takes in a breath and puts on his usual act, cocky and carefree.

“Why, is that a sword in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” she smiles, winking.

Dante struggles not to laugh at the lines, or at the expression on her face. He just follows the script, cocking out his hip. “Why don’t you come a little bit closer and find out Sweetheart,” he purrs flawlessly, finishing off with some finger guns for effect. He’s starting to feel a little bit more relaxed.

She steps in closer as a wind machine starts up. The sound almost deafening. Dante feels the breeze push at his hair and uses his heightened senses to time the shrug of his shoulders. His coat falls off his shoulders effortlessly, fluttering stylishly to the floor.

The wind machine stops and he shakes out his long hair. He flexes his arms and reaches up, over his head. He pulls off his shirt, struggling not to get caught in the fabric or mess up his hair. Sure, it’s an impractical way to take off a shirt, but he saw it in a movie once and thought it looked pretty sweet.

She stands up on her toes and starts licking at his neck and then his hairy chest. His skin is covered with saliva when she pulls away and it feels pretty gross. She works her way down his body until she’s half crouching to be level with his crotch. The cameraman moves to get the shot, getting tangled up in the cables. Dante tries not to laugh. He tries to look sexy instead. Like he’s excited to have a desperate woman kneeling between his legs, instead of apprehensive.

She traces her hands down his thighs and works quickly down to his boots. She licks the buckle and uses her teeth to pull the zipper down. Dante notices, as she pulls off his shoe, that everyone in the room is staring at his feet.

“Cut!”

The director storms over, his voice distorted static through the megaphone. “What are those?!”

Dante looks down, “my socks?” he questions, wiggling his toes inside of his lucky, pizza print sock.

The director groans, holding his head in his hands.

“Costuming!”

They take away Dante’s favourite sock and the mismatched pink strawberry print one from his other foot. He’s given replacement socks that are boring and plain black. He’s just managed to get them on when an assistant appears and throws all of his previously discarded clothes at him. Dante gets dressed again.

He can’t believe he has to go through it all again. He has a lot less enthusiasm during the next take. His coat falls dismally to the floor and he takes his shirt off the normal way because he’s not going to risk stretching the neck out. Eventually they get back to where they were, and then further. Now she’s crouched awkwardly in front of him, working on his fly.

She rubs her face all over his clothed cock. He’s not really hard yet but not one seems to have noticed. It’s all going well so far. She undoes his fly and slowly pulls his pants lower. She works seductively, dragging the fabric down his legs while biting her lip. Dante cocks out his hip while the camera pans around him.

“Cut!”

The director is utterly irate this time, stalking towards Dante like he’s going to murder him. “Your underwear,” he spits. Dante twists around. He’d accidentally put on his smokin hot black briefs this morning, the ones with the word ‘sexy’ stamped across the ass in giant, holographic letters.

His co-star turns, struggling not to laugh. “I don’t think those are a problem.”

The director stares at her like she has two heads but quickly relents.

They don’t have to redo the whole scene again apparently. Dante’s just glad he doesn’t have to get dressed again, or deal with the wind machine. He just does his pants back up and they go from there. There’s only one more hitch on the next take. She’s a little bit too enthusiastic ripping off his underwear and his semi-hard cock springs up. Hitting her solidly in the face. She’s not hurt, but she’s definitely a little bit shaken up. The next time they try the take, she makes sure to hold him steady with her hand.

There’s a team of people adjusting a stool in front of him. His co-star kneels on it and they mess around trying to get her high enough to comfortably reach his cock. Dante tries to play it cool. He’s starting to feel a little bit out of his depth, now that she’s about to properly touch him.

The director turns to Dante. “Get ready,” he scoffs and makes a jerking motion with his fist. Gross.

Dante has never had any problems with his performance, even with an audience. It’s different in the dark recesses of a strip club though, compared to harsh lights and critical stares. He ignores them, reaching down and stroking his cock a few times. He quickly gets into it, adding in a twist of his wrist here and there. It feels good.

The director fawns over him, tells him to bend his knees, cock out his hip, tense his butt. Dante tries his best to follow the contradicting directions, ignoring the strain in his thighs.

“Action!”

It’s now or never. She reaches out and wraps a hand firmly around the thick base of his cock. She strokes him a few times, making exaggerated movements while she leans her face in closer. She holds him in place and then sticks out her tongue.

Dante is watching closely. There’s something not right with her tongue. It’s slightly too long and flicks out strangely from between her lips. Her grip tightens painfully around the base of his cock. He hears her hiss. “Gotcha!”

Dante recoils. Managing to pull himself back just in time. Her maw crunches down on the empty air where beloved lil’ Dante was only moments ago.

She crouches to the floor, splayed out with too long limbs. “Famed Devil Hunter,” she hisses, staring at him with glowing, slitted eyes. “You’ve fallen right into our trap. Let us see how strong you really are, aroused, naked and without any weapons.”

Dante doesn’t need to look around the room. The grotesque snapping sounds echoing off the walls tell him that everyone else in the room is transforming too. She takes a step back as the others gang up on him.

This is his element though. He can handle a fight. “Oh, Darling,” he taunts, “I’m always fully loaded.” He winks and flies head first into battle.

The creatures aren’t strong. Dante doesn’t need weapons. His bare fists are strong enough to puncture through their squishy chests. He has fun, backflipping and dancing around. It’s interesting, getting to fight with parts of his body that he doesn’t normally. He laughs, snapping necks with his thighs. Yelling out, “cut” and “action” as he slams disfigured faces to the ground. It’s easy to improvise, though he has to be careful not to bang his large adrenaline filled erection on the furniture.

Far too soon for his liking, it’s just the woman and the director - stupid hat still perched on his reptilian head - left. The director stalks forward, looking just as agitated as he had when he looked human. He’s so focused on Dante that he doesn’t notice the camera cable, stretched taut and hidden by streaming corpses. He trips. Dante watches it play out in slow motion. The director flails, trying to keep his balance. His hat flies off his head. There’s a pause and a click as the swinging cable flicks the fan blades on. Dante can’t tear his eyes away from the director’s horrified face. He screams as the sharp blades slice through him and paint the walls with his blood.

The client is furious now. She screeches at him. The sound threatens to shatter the windows. Dante throws a quick come hither motion in her direction, goading her on. She lunges forwards.

It’s an accident, honestly. Dante was having way too much fun. He wanted to capture her, interrogate her, find out exactly what was going on here, who sent them. But it wasn’t to be. It wasn’t that he mistimed his stylish double pike backflip exactly, it was more that she anticipated his movement and decided to attack him with her teeth.

Her head swung back as he twisted. Neither her nor Dante though have accounted for the unrestrained and exceptionally lethal weapon between his legs. His dick hits her solidly in the neck. He has too much momentum. He doesn’t stop spinning. Her neck splits with a pop as her decapitated head flies across the room.

Dante stops moving as quickly as he can. Frantically inspecting his makeshift sword for any damage. There’s a little bit of devil gore, but otherwise everything is intact. He sighs with relief as he looks around the room.

Dante sneaks out of the apartment through the back window, dropping into the bushes below. He’s haphazardly dressed, already having put on and taken his clothes off way too many times today. He leaves the mess of bodies and equipment as they are. Not his problem. He steals the bottle of booze though, along with the strange purple fruit from the bowl and the tape from the camera, which has ‘Cocked and Loaded’ scrawled across the front of it.

He starts the slow, long walk back to the office, still broke. He’s pretty sure that the large cheque he has in his pocket is gonna bounce. He turns the purple fruit around in his hands and then takes a bite. It’s disgusting. He throws it away. Why would anyone want to eat that?

He can’t believe that he’s walking away empty handed. He’d been so confident this job was going to work out. He pats the tape in his pocket, glad he has it as a souvenir. He’s almost giddy, thinking about watching it later tonight in private. He’s already decided that he’s never gonna show it to anyone else, and even if it never really got juicy… well, he figures at least one person should jerk off to it.

#dmc #dante sparda #dante #dmcv #rev writes #my writing #ssszine

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amphtaminedreams · 4 years

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S/S 2020 Fashion Month: A Basic, Uneducated Fashion Heaux’s A-Z of Everything Noteworthy (Part 2/3)

Hi to anyone reading,

Back at it again with the giving my unsolicited opinion on 2020′s spring/summer offering, I’m gonna hop straight into part 2 of my fashion month review!

Sorry to start with an underwhelming few but my compulsive tendencies are making it really hard to break out of this alphabetical structure (cry laughs whilst thinking about how long it took me to face up at my retail job last night because it would give me vaguely homicidal urges and make my fingers tingle every time a customer moved something slightly out of line), so I’m gonna whizz through a handful of collections. First up, Halpern:

Not much to say but I’m envious of the heavy liner (my hooded eyes could never) and I like the colour scheme. As for the 80s style metallic pink dress?

Helmut Lang:

And Hermes:

Of these 3 collections, Hermes is definitely the most interesting. I like the colour scheme and the utilitarian shapes and the tan coloured jackets are an absolute shoot. This is how you make safari look fresh, D&G take note.

Isabel Marant was okay. It’s cute, sure, reminds me of something Mary-Kate and Ashley would’ve come out with/worn in the 2000s, and there’s definitely some things I would wear, but I wouldn’t say it looks all that luxury. Pricey, sure, but like, Free People pricey, not designer pricey. As a collection, it’s not all that conceptual, unless the concept is L.A girl does a Starbucks run after her bikram yoga class. What I will say though is that some of the S/S 2020 commercial trends are becoming clear: white cheesecloth pieces, peasant blouses, cowboy boots, scrappy sandals, neutral tones, and bandana print.

Now onto the darling of high fashion Twitter: Jacquemus.

As far as presentation goes, this has to be one of my favourite set-ups of the season; a hot pink runway running through a lavender meadow is as canny and serene as those who sing the praises of Simon Porte Jacquemus would have you expect, and the clothes were easy, breezy and beautiful, even if there is an element of getting dressed in the dark going on with the styling which put me off including a few otherwise gorgeous pieces. It might not be 100% my style but you can tell this is a brand of the future which is only going to go from strength to strength.

And everything was beautifully and purposefully crafted on the runway with J.W Anderson this year. The pieces are graceful and timeless whilst still easy to envision as something a modern woman would throw on to (very fashionably) run some errands in the city. This was also one of the handful of shows (IIRC! This might be a case of extreme deja-vu!) where we saw the sandal straps tied over the trousers, I’m guessing to accentuate the ankles, and...I’m surprisingly here for it? Though in a sense it kinda resembles when I accidentally get my work trousers tucked into my slipper socks, it’s an interesting touch and adds a bit of a shape to otherwise billowing bottom halves.

Following Jacquemus’ lead (or vice versa, I’m way too deep into this fashion month haze to work out who went first at this point), Lacoste also put on a co-ed show. Otherwise crisp and preppy as per, the neckerchiefs (even if seeing them all next to one another does give off a bit of a Disneyland Main Street barbershop quartet vibe) and vinyl/wet-look/PVC/I’m still not sure what differentiates the 3 coats were an out of the box touch for them and I really liked it. It’s athleisure, but more like something Hayley Bieber would’ve worn as part of her Princess Diana inspired shoot than anything I’d wear to the gym.

LMAO, as if I go the gym. But you get my point. Next, Loewe:

Delicate, feminine and all around delightful, the S/S 2020 Loewe collection is up there with Chloe and Brock when it comes to most spring appropriate. More chiffon, lace and doily-like detailing, please, the old woman in me lives for this kinda thing made fashionable. Like with J.W Anderson, you can tell the design team wanted to do something different without just throwing shit onto their pieces for the sake of being wacky, and so we end up with these dramatic, slightly geometric waistlines and almost angelic Victorian nightgown inspired dresses that kinda make me wished that 1). ghosts existed and that 2). I lived back in that era so I could die some tragic death wearing any one of the dresses on the left in the top 3 rows and then haunt the shit out of everyone. That would really be an iconic fashion moment. Also wonderful, imo, was Louis Vuitton:

The mix between 60s and Edwardian I never knew I needed, as opposed to Gucci’s forward thinking take on the former decade, Louis Vuitton takes it back even further and throws in late 19th/early 20th century structures and references. I adore the what seems to be a mix between brocade and paisley print and the exaggerated collars are a very cute touch. The jacket on the top left is a highlight, a more neutral version of the similar catsuit seen at the Longchamp show (I couldn’t personally pick enough highlights from that to include it), and I now more than ever really want to try and pull off a sweater vest. The shoes might not be the most exciting thing ever but they’re also a personal favourite, from the knee high boots to the loafers with the LV moniker.

Maison Margiela was very cool and again, I’m in love with the shoes and just the accessories in general, ESPECIALLY those hats. I don’t know if I’m way off base here but this show is almost a modernised, fashionable version of a 1940s period drama about WW2 pilots and evacuees. Yes, maybe I am just getting that solely from the trench coats and the naval influences and the exaggerated collars but I think with that list I made quite a case for that perspective, right? Right.

And completing this holy trinity (appropriating the term I usually reserve for Emma Watson, Emma Stone and Emma Roberts is not without careful consideration) is Marc Jacobs. One of my ultimate favourites of this season, this collection is absolutely EVERYTHING: kitschy, dream-like, whimsical, over-the-top, and totally appropriate for your slightly eccentric aunt who always drinks too much wine and talks a lot of shit every time she comes over for dinner. I really feel like I walked into wonderland looking at this collection, and in the best way possible, it gives me a female Russell Brand in the 2000s’ wardrobe on crack. On the one hand we have these insanely beautiful and ethereal chiffon floral dresses but then we also have fricken top hats. Basically, it’s everything I love about fashion and I don’t know if anything can top it. Periodt (and I type that with a totally straight face).

Next, onto another personal fave, Marchesa:

Which is as always, beautiful. I was going to write that if Disney princesses came to life and lived in the modern world (so, in other words, Elle Fanning), they would be wearing Marchesa and then I remembered that the film Enchanted exists and had a lightbulb moment and thought OH MY GOD IF THEY REMADE THAT IN 2019, THE DRESS ON THE RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE ROW WOULD BE A PERFECT LEVELLING UP OF THE CURTAIN DRESS.

Anyways, favourites of the favourites are the bottom row; I would die for that feather trim.

BUT where Marchesa is everything opulent, overly ornate and err-ing on “fussy”, Margaret Howell’s S/S 2020 collection is completely stripped back and just as effective, if not as to my taste. Very cool, very current, and altogether effortless (in a good way!), with this show Margaret Howell made mid-20th century utilitarianism relevant. I never thought I’d be praising the combination of bermuda shorts, crew socks and a beanie and yet here I am. Character development.

Next is Marine Serre:

Which I really like! The bottom row isn’t really to my personal taste but I can acknowledge that if I saw somebody wearing any one of those outfits I’d think they looked sick, and as for the first two rows, those mesh tops and the slightly chintzy florals are right up my alley.

Marques Almeida put out a really strong collection, imo. The blending of luxurious silhouettes and fabrics with street wear inspired prints and styling is a really interesting and unique contrast and if Billie Eilish ever decided to stop wearing those tweenie clothes and wanted to actually seduce somebody’s dad (I LOVE BILLIE EILISH AND I KNOW WHY SHE DRESSES THE WAY SHE DOES, IT’S A JOKE, PLS DON’T HATE ME), I’d love to see her wearing something like this. It’s a blend of punk, urban, and 2019 e-girl and has the kind of edge that Topshop has lost over the past couple of years that used to make it so aspirational to my 13 year old self. Of all the shows, it also probably has the most personally wearable accessories, and a shit tonne of cool make up looks I’d love to try if it weren’t for my lack of visible eyelid, lol.

Make up looks were a highlight of the Max Mara show too, for me anyway.

I otherwise wasn’t hugely keen on the collection, it being a little too matronly/Miss.Trunchbull-esque for my liking (wild card fashion inspiration of 2019, apparently?). The light paisley print dresses are very dreamy, though, and I can never resist a good suit.

As for Michael Kors, dare I say it, but the basic bitch in me loved it. I know as a designer he’s not held in very high regard by the fashion community and I'm not saying it’s at all original but it did what it set out to do well; I mean, it’s quite fitting that he cameo-d in an episode of Gossip Girl because every outfit would be perfect for the Constance attending incarnation of Blair Waldorf, which is probably why I like the collection. Like yeah, it’s a bit of a Polo Ralph Lauren/Lacoste rip off but it’s daintier and more feminine and so I’m not gonna lie, I’m on board with it.

Next, Miu Miu.

One of the collections I was most excited for, I was a little disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, I really like the collection, but I have never once disliked anything Miu Miu and I usually love it. There are things I love about this line too: the cream, floral lace-up boots, the off-the-shoulder cardigans, the houndstooth oversized coats and of course the fur-lined gilets. My mum used to buy me similar ones when I was a little girl and so they give me childhood nostalgia in the best way possible. I mean, the collection is as girly and eccentric as ever. I think it’s just a little too on the primary school librarian side for me, this time round. Sorry Miu Miu xoxo

Now I’m just gonna speed through a couple, starting with MM6 Maison Margiela, the younger sister to the more expensive regular Maison Margiela line:

And Monique Lhuillier:

So that I can get to one of my other ultimate favourite collections for S/S 2020: Moschino.

Oh my god, where to even start. Firstly, I might be reaching, but if this show is even remotely to thank for art nouveau mesh tops showing up in the Urban Outfitters new in section, then a very sarcastic thank you to Jeremy Scott. You just made ethical shopping a lot harder. HOW am I supposed to not buy an Alphonse Mucha top? HOW!? I mean, I’m sure I’ll manage (I’m on month 3 without a shopping spree I can’t actually afford now and yes, I am very much patting myself on the back), but HOW!?

But on a serious level, if renaissance was the print of 2019, which I’m still very much into BTW, bring on modern art as its 2020 replacement. The Pablo Picasso inspired show not only livened up a generally pretty predictable fashion month but it’s also got me searching up other times art has met fashion on the runway and thrown me down a particularly aesthetically pleasing wormhole I’m not sure I ever want to escape from (https://frontrowmagazine.ca/art-inspired-looks-were-all-over-the-runways-of-fashion-week-a74e8bc7ff0d and https://www.vogue.com/article/spring-2017-ready-to-wear-fine-arts-trends are good starting points!).

Mugler was also up there with the best of them, imo:

See, if the Moschino collection was all about dabbling in art class, Mugler’s S/S 2020 collection is its more mathematically inclined sister, all about sharp lines and deconstructed silhouettes and symmetry all whilst looking hot as fuck. So very Mugler, basically.

Now, this reference might be slightly off because I haven’t actually SEEN Ex-Machina yet but I imagine if Kim Kardashian were to channel that movie for a costume party she’d end up wearing something from this collection. That sounds like a roast because Kim has worn some questionable outfits but I blame Kanye for most of that and I’m referring to her on a good fashion day, alright!?

As for Off-White, it’s obviously a lot more commercial than most of the lines I’ve reviewed so far. Like, I can see a lot of these outfits on a mannequin in Urban Outfitters (no, I am not being paid to namedrop them, about 3 people in total read this Tumblr so any kind of sponsorship money would be severely wasted on me). That’s not necessarily a bad thing, and I love all of these looks; it just seems unfair to compare them to the the Mugler or Moschino collections, for example.

The stand outs for me are all on the bottom row: I would buy the utility vest, leather blazer and the all mesh turtleneck under washed-out tie-dye on the spot if I saw them in a high street store. Unfortunately, I feel like that’s kinda where they belong. You just expect collections to be a bit more conceptual, and this one is a little watered down, as much as it’s my style.

Oscar de la Renta was beautiful, of course. Not like I’m shook by how beautiful it is but kinda just what you’d expect from a brand with a name as poetic and fun to say as Oscar de la Renta. The silhouettes are dreamy and the details are as fit for a fairy princess (lmao) as ever. Plus can I just say how happy I am to see butterflies on dresses for adult women again!? And dresses worn by Blanca Padilla nonetheless!? Very here for it.

Next up is another on one of my fashion month highlights: Paco Rabanne.

LOOK AT THIS SHIT!

I mean, don’t get me wrong, something about this collection (I’m pretty sure it’s the knee high coloured socks) is giving me primary school teacher vibes, but I'm not mad about it. It’d be the kind of teacher who’s actually really good at their job and has loads of cool hobbies and a really hot boyfriend or girlfriend or wife or husband who you secretly want to be then you grow up/and or have a huge crush on.

Like with Marc Jacobs, there’s obvious flower child elements here, and whilst on the whole the former took my breath away slightly more, this is a lot more wearable. My favourites are the paisley print dress and cape on the left in the very bottom row and all the chainmail pieces (which remind me of the dress Naomi Smalls wore in that whole club ninety-sixxxxx skit on drag race), plus that floral cut out dress with the trailing flute sleeves, which is absolute PERFECTION.

The 70s influence was clear in Peter Pilotto’s S/S 2020 collection too from the abundance of tie-dye to the knit v-neck dress, zany colour and print being the very on-brand focus. That being said, this is definitely more of a street-style inspired collection than usual and whilst the floral suits and dresses on the 3rd row down are very typical Peter Pilotto, the tie-dye corset and combat trousers on the far right, second row from the bottom, are very Jaded London. As for the reoccurrence of the bucket hat, I’ve remained steadfastly against them for several years now (even when our Lord and Saviour Miss Robyn Rihanna Fenty started wearing them) but the way they’re done in this collection even I could definitely get behind; all in all, the show surpassed my expectations.

The same goes for Ports 1961, which was a lot more eccentric than I gathered is the norm from a few google searches. Honestly, I hadn’t really heard of the brand which, upon reading up on it, I feel very dumb for considering it has been around since (in the shock twist of the century) 1961.

Yes, I know how that sounds! But forgive me, I’m still learning:)

Anyway, the fishnet detailing alone pretty much sold the looks I picked out. Seriously, I got a pair of those bloody tights, like, 2 years ago when they became a thing again and now any outfit where I have my legs out feels incomplete without them.

Next is Prabal Gurung, which, as far as presentation goes, was fucking STUNNING:

I mean, you could say that I’m easily impressed and that the presence of the bouquets won me over (and you’d definitely have a point there), but it’s also this year’s Givenchy haute couture-esque feathers, the trailing pearl necklaces, the exaggerated shoulders, the dreamy colouring, the everything looking like it could’ve grown off a very fashionably-inclined tree. Like, there’s a lot to love here, from the naturalistic elements, to the context behind the show, an ode to American fashion history and those cast out of it (and the notion of “being American” in general) for so long.

Going from a high to a (personal) low, however, next we have Prada:

I don’t know, I get that it’s supposed to be simple and stripped back and dignified and whatever and I like the looks I picked but it’s just a bit blah for me. The bonnets that kept cropping up just didn’t do it for me and almost ruined what is an otherwise nice skirt suit (top right). Nonetheless, I like the silhouette of the sheer black dress and the the brocade print suit is really luxurious looking, even if the pattern is a *little* Wetherspoons carpet.

Anyways, here’s a quick overview of Rag and Bone:

So that I can stop moaning and get onto a collection I REALLY liked:

I am of course talking about Ralph and Russo. See, this is kinda what I expected from, like, Chanel and yet it’s Ralph and Russo that delivered. Also, it gives me Alessandra Rich vibes which is very much a compliment considering how much I love her designs. I mean, if Valley of the Dolls were to get another film remake in 2019, this is exactly what I’d like to see the female leads wearing, from the pastel suits to the satin kaftan style dresses. The yellow feather trimmed dress is practically a copy of something Marchesa has already done but it’s cute all the same. In my top 10 collections of the season, for sure.

Rick Owens was another strong collection; it goes without saying that it’s not the most wearable but that’s not really what Rick Owens is known for, so I wouldn’t expect anything else. If you want fashion on an alien planet, or something Lady Gaga would’ve worn in 2010, he's your man.

Next, Rodarte:

Obviously the dresses are beautiful and the set is magnificent, BUT...I’m really not a fan of the whole celebrities filling in for high fashion models thing. I like Lili Reinhart and I adore Kirsten Dunst, she’s been in a load of my favourite films, but in a similar vein to Dolce and Gabbana’s influencer show, it’s just distracting from the actual garments, if even worse because I don’t WANT to be distracted here (the same can’t be said for the D&G show, lol). If anybody has read this far, let me know your thoughts!

Roland Mouret was nice, and I always like a coed show, especially when a designer isn’t afraid to blur the lines of masculine and feminine. It’s fresh, lightweight and luxurious looking, Cannes film festival street style eat your heart out, and I love the colour palette.

Similarly, colour was my favourite thing about Sally LaPointe’s S/S 2020 collection.

I would never think that teal and burnt orange would work together, let alone in some kind of faux leather, and yet here we are. Orange is in itself always an interesting colour choice, perfect for the summer with a tan, and I really love monochrome outfits, even though they’re something that ends up being quite pricey to put together; slight differences in tone are okay but if you just randomly throw together a few things and they’re too off, it really doesn’t work and you’d have been better off wearing contrasting colours. For that reason, I’m just gonna admire that all-pink outfit from a distance.

As for Schiaparelli, it’s one I always look forwards to for the sheer weirdness. RTW isn’t quite as kooky as haute couture but still, the interesting choices are still there; what at first glance appears to be flame print is actually coils of hair, and paired with a water print suit is a sequinned jacket emblazoned with a paradisiacal mirage. Ornament-like facial decorations as seen in the over-exaggerated glasses worn with the pony hair suit are also one of my favourite new things to happen in the high fashion scene in the past couple of months and I can’t wait to see how they get watered down to become more approachable for us...regular, non-structurally blessed folks who can’t pull off anything and everything.

Simone Rocha was STUNNING. Romantic and ethereal, it’s druid goddess crossed with upper class Victorian woman of leisure, equal parts delicate and grungy, like a modern, fashion version of Lady Gaga’s Scathach in the Roanoke season of American Horror Story. You know, in the flashbacks, not in present day when she was all gross and like...scalping people and shit. Each dress is so ornate and has such an interesting structure, and the fabric choices give off an organic kinda vibe that create a handmade feel; the collection is, imo, really worthy of being shown under a haute couture heading. When it comes to my favourite element of the show, I’m torn between the petticoats and the hair accessories. I’m just gonna give a cop-out answer and say both.

Stella McCartney on the other hand, is very much a clear ready-to-wear collection.

It’s pretty, for sure. The pastel blazers paired with delicate white mesh tops underneath are a gorgeous combination for spring and I like the reoccurrence of the chain glasses (Gucci, right?). But I mean, when you go from Simone Rocha to this, it’s a bit anticlimactic. Plus, if I’m honest, kaftans are always going to remind me of Honey Mahogany from season 5 of Drag Race. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure she’s a lovely person but her runway looks aren’t really ones I look back fondly on, and you’re lying if you say you enjoyed them for anything other than meme purposes.

Temperley is equally meh, though the return of the Erdem-style boating hats is getting me excited that high street retailers might actually pick up on the trend and bring out some cheap ones for me to embarrass myself by wearing.

I also love a good 70s suit, the neckerchiefs are cute and there are some really delightful prints here that are a more unique approach to florals for spring.

Coming towards the end now, next is Thom Browne:

I LOVE this. Like, don’t get me wrong Rick Owens was cool but I adore how on the nose the concept is here; time to bring back all the Marie Antoinette puns I didn’t get to use in my Versailles Instagram post. I don’t know if it’s the history buff in me or the Sofia Coppola Stan but I will always be willing to sign any kind of treaty for anything related to the excesses of the 18th century French monarchy, and this is that turned up to 1000 infused with a dash of the Teletubbies, which sounds like a nightmarish concept, I know, but as high fashion it WORKS.

Tory Burch was very commercial, seemingly half inspired by Monterey yoga moms and the other half by Hamptons socialites.

And then there was Valentino, which was fucking exquisite, imo. LIKE, CALLING DOCLE & GABBANA: THIS IS HOW YOU MAKE TROPICAL PRINT INTERESTING. YOU MAKE THE VELVET MONKEY’S ARM THE FRICKEN WAISTBAND.

Seriously, though, I am enamoured with this colour palette; all the whites and golds are angelic and fr, I didn’t know until now that you could make neons this elegant. I’m also getting an almost clerical feel from a lot of these looks, with the plaited waistband on the black dress that’s 7th row down in the middle, the stunning red cape and the multitude of exaggerated neck ruffs. I think I’ve mentioned before but I always love religious references in clothing-I don’t think I’ll ever get over the 2018 Met Gala-and so whether I’m reading too much into it or not, this collection really did it for me.

Whilst it’s probably as far removed a collection from Valentino’s S/S 2020 contribution you can get, I also loved Vera Wang this season. It might purely (I PROMISE THIS IS MY LAST GOSSIP GIRL REFERENCE) be because it gives me Jenny Humphrey vibes and *controversial* she did have my favourite style of any of the main characters, but sue me, this is just the right amount of late 90s/early 2000s grunge. Deconstructed trashy goth it girl is an interesting concept to see on the runway and I completely support it.

Versace on the other hand was very hit or miss. The looks I picked out I really loved but ultimately, for one of the household name brands, a lot of the actual garments were a bit pedestrian. I will say though that for me, it’s a case of the whole being greater than the sum of its parts. The slicked back mermaid hair and the pops of colour in the makeup and the interesting necklines meant that when it was good, it was GOOD. However, overall, still a bit too 80s Miami businesswoman, and please GOD, can we leave that hideous J-Lo dress in the past, it should really not be the climax of the show in 20-fucking-19!

As for Victoria Beckham, I liked it, but it’s a bit of a Gucci copy, no? And no way near as interesting?

And on that note, I’m gonna have to cut this off. Super annoying but with only 5 collections left that I want to talk about, Tumblr is being a little bitch and will not let me add anything more to this post. So, see you in 5 for the final post!

Lauren x

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koi-sims · 5 years

Text

Do Sim Evil Better.

I’d been knockin’ this idea around for a long time, and after collecting (or making, in the case of the CAS background) all the right cc, I decided to do something fun and unrelated to my stories and make the most handsome, most ingenious, and most evil man to ever exist in a narrative, Corin Deeth III (who actually named the Corin in my current storyline - Corin with two “r”. #bigFan).

Reader, you may or may not be familiar with the story of Kakos Industries and if you aren’t you truly are missing out. It is the best podcast I’ve listened to since The NoSleep Podcast, and to be honest...I think it actually one-ups my beloved NoSleep. It is a very fun and witty podcast with some great humor, greater hijinks, and can I just mention how alluring Corin’s voice is? Just sayin’. The storyline is awesome, too...so many great characters. I want to make Jr. and Malantha next~ I’ll leave some links at the bottom of the post for those who may be interested. Anyway, without further ado, let’s meet the man of the hour, shall we?

~*~*~*~*~*~

Well hello, Corin~.... Now, I may have missed the mark, but I always envisioned Corin having short, trendy hair that still embodied professionalism and and air of slight douchery. I have seen a lot of fanart where Corin has long hair and perhaps that is canonically true. If so, I apologize Corin, please do not send me a pair of exploding sneakers. I may have missed his eye color too, but I went with a very piercing blue-green because that’s just my personal taste and light eyes with dark hair is so badass.

Corin’s traits came pretty natural - evil, confident, and I picked hot-headed because it would best help his in-game aspiration (Criminal Mastermind) moreso than him being hot-headed in the canon. He is actually always as cool as a cucumber. I admire that.

And a little in-game blurb for him because why not? Am a ridiculously enamored fangirl? Maybe. (I spelled his name wrong up top, but I fixed it AFTER I took that and the next cap - whoops)

And just for fun, this personality notice about Corin popped up when I went in to do his photoshoot. I just love it and the look on Corin’s face at the time - Ah, the taste of accuracy.

Now, on to the main event. I’ve always wondered what Corin’s sense of fashion was like, and now having listened to 99% of the podcast (it was so fun to catch up, I’m pretty much stalling on finishing what’s out now because waiting for the next is gonna hurt so bad) I’ve gotten too curious and decided to raid his wardrobe. What’s in there, I wonder??? Let’s find out.

Everyday Wear

Oh of COURSE Corin looks dark and dapper in a suit for everyday. Look at that little splash of color! I bet you used the blood of insubordinate employees to make that tie custom, didn’t you? Magnificent. What else do you slip into on the daily? Maybe when you’re home relaxi-

Oh. Um. Well...You do wear a cowboy hat very well, Corin! I mean...they match the boots and everything! I...I’m sure there are a lot of experimental abominations to wrangle around the office so why not dress the part? Not gonna lie, that shirt looks breezy and comfortable as hell. Maybe take a trip to the mountains with King Leopold sometime? (I...I know what happened in the story, and I refuse to let it go. #OTP.)

Formal Wear

Ah. The natural snazz comes out around the time of the Shareholder’s Ball and the CEO Festival, doesn’t it? You didn’t strike me as the bowtie type of evil CEO but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t look amazing on you. I see you’ve forgone your gloves for formal wear. Hard to eat the deviled eggs and tiny cheeses in those, non?

...This must be the suit you wear to the CEO Festival. That’s really the only explanation as to why it always turns out to be...what it usually becomes. I am going to assume that this suit belonged to Mr. Corin Deeth I and you wear it in his honor. I sure he is looking down on you, pleased but also wondering why you haven’t indulged in what is (still) in the right-side inner pocket.

Athletic Wear

You cannot be a successful CEO of an evil megacorp if you let yourself go. Hence why you slip into nothing but basketball shorts for a long, strenuous...sweaty...satisfying...workout. Between culling unnecessary employees and flawlessly delivering the shareholder announcements, you’re deadlifting 400lbs and making 1st in marathons, aren’t you? Of course you are.

And then there’s jazzercise. Cardio IS important and I mean...just running can be a bit tedious, yeah? You’re so well-rounded, Corin, golly. Honestly, I’m not at all mad at your fashion choice for this one. You don’t have to hide it, we are all friends here. The 80′s were a great time and I am happy you’re keeping the impeccable athletics fashion alive.

Sleepwear

Even mega evil mega CEOs need rest from time to time and nothing beats resting out topless and in trackpants. I see you are wearing ADIDAS, the most evil of brands. Not much else I can say. I am too busy admiring what jazzercise has done for you.

Uh oh. It must be one of those days. Malantha has flustered you again, Dirk is texting for more life advice, and Jr. is sending way too many...um...”special photos” to prove his is thinking hard on how to best contribute to the company. Good thing Brosephus is totally awake at 2am and ready to video chat about all of this. It’s SOOOO LAAAAAAME, right?!

Party Wear

Rollin’ up to the New Year’s Festival feels good, especially when you look this mighty fine. Nothing like finally getting past Yule and Anti-Celebrating by finally cutting loose again and making those ultra evil resolutions. Again with the gloves, I see. Well, I guess better safe than sorry. There’s no tell who’ll feel your wrath after four Blue Motorcycles.

Hm. This is quite the uh...departure, Corin. I mean, nothing ever looks bad on you but where on Earth would you even wear this to? Where would it even work??? ...Oh, right! The Festival of Adorableness! Awkward or not, you’ve made it work. I’m willing to bet the Division of Subversive Cute helped out with this ensemble. Kudos to them! I’m sure burning it afterwards was incredibly satisfying for you.

Swimwear

Why are you looking so bedeviled, Corin? How, when you look that prepared for a pool party, can you possibly be in such a foul mood? Oh...oh wait. Malantha has hidden your sunblock, hasn’t she? Goshdarnit! How can you possibly be evil without being as pale as your skin tone will allow?! That Malantha...she truly is evil, isn’t she?

Welp. I guess if you’re going to get a tan, might as well hit every spot you can. Suck on that, Malantha! (....) Also, breaking out the zebra print speedo wasn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had, and I both applaud, and ready my binoculars for, you choice of white swimwear. No booty shot? Ugh. Fair enough...gotta leave something to the imagination, I guess. #disappointmentOverdose

Warm Weather Wear

This is the look of a man about to take off on his mega evil yacht and never look back. That shirt, unbuttoned down to where it is suggestive but not desperate, those shorts, defining the thighs while still looking professional, those boat shoes that scream class and bless you for not wearing socks with them. There is a thin line between evil and insane and you ride it perfectly.

Apparently, even evil knows it wouldn’t be summer without an obnoxiously bright Hawaiian shirt. Ain’t even mad. Oooh, and white pinstripe pants....why yes, dear, they do make you look taller and thinner! I can almost hear you now, as you swagger out the front doors, “I’m off to the Maldives, screw y’all! Also, if a single brick is out of place when I get back, I’ll kill you.” You tell ‘em, Corin.

Cold Weather Wear

Brrrrrr. Generally, evil is always cold, dark, and hateful but sometimes even the weather puts up a good fight. Stylish as ever, you have broken out a very elegant scarf and jacket, expertly layered as to properly insulate all of the darkness within. No hat, though? Of course not. Evil does not get that chilly.

Corin: “What you mean I didn’t win the Ugly Sweater Contest?!”

RUN.

~*~*~*~*~

And that concludes are journey through Corin’s wardrobe! This really was a lot of fun to do, and I’d be ever so pleased if the fine people who bring the @kakosindustries universe alive enjoy it too! I’ve also redecorated Corin’s in-game home (the Alto Apartment’s unit that was formally Lobo’s #sorrynotsorry) and I would like to share that one day too, if I get around to doing the photo tour. I will share some links below to a few relevant sites for anyone whose interested in Corin and the Kakos Industries story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Cheers!

~*~*~*~*~

WCIF: Kakos Industries

Kakos Industries Home - where it’s all laid out

Kakos Industries on Tumblr - contains information about episode releases, fan-created content, and other candid goodies

Kakos Industries on TVTropes - [SPOILERS] a nice place to gather info about the series and related tropes therein

And of course you can find Kakos Industries on Facebook, Twitter, and any podcast service worth it’s salt.

#sims 4 #kakos industries #corin deeth iii

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percywinchester27 · 5 years

Text

Unconventional Roommates (Epilogue)

Word count: 2.6K

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Series Summary: Now that his brother is at Stanford, for the first time in his life, Dean does something for himself. He takes a step towards chasing his own dreams and moves away from Lawrence to start college, which is both thrilling and scary at the same time. Only catch, in this unknown town, he is stuck with the MOST infuriating female on the planet- the roommate from hell!

A/N: Here we are! Thank you, guys. Your love kept me going <3

This couldn’t have been possible without the incredible @deanssweetheart23. Thank you so much for everything, Athina. You rock, my princess <3

Unconventional Roommates masterlist

"This is a horrible fricking idea!" Dean grumbled, getting out of the car.

Y/N merely smirked, and Dean had to admit that the expression had never looked so alluring on anyone else. "You're just nervous. This is the coolest thing I've ever done."

Dean adjusted his tie. She looked so happy that he would have done anything to keep her smiling like that. This wasn't a big deal as it is. He was only nervous because he had never done this before, and also because he was about to walk in with the best girl he knew.

Incidentally, the reason for Y/N's excitement was same as his nervousness. She had never done this before either.

The building was colored in flashing crimson and purple lights which reflected on Y/N's face. Dean couldn't help but be reminded of the fair, when they were stuck in the Ferris wheel. She had looked beautiful then, and she looked beautiful now. The black wig that she was sporting suited her perfectly, so did the dark lipstick. She looked something else.

Just before they could enter the hall, Dean caught hold of her hand and pulled her back.

"Have I told you that you look absolutely stunning?"

Y/N looked down, smiling shyly. It would still take him time to get used to her reacting like that instead of glare down at him like she was about to pull out a butcher's knife.

"You don't look bad yourself, Romeo!"

"Are you kidding me?" Dean complained, touching his slick black hair. "I look like a clown."

"No you don't," she said, running her hand over the lapels of his coat, fussing over him. "You look hot." She licked her lips. "I'd kiss you, but I don't wanna ruin the look with my lipstick."

"Screw the look," Dean said, reaching out for the small of her back and pulling her close. "I don't give a damn about the look."

He leaned in, but she put a finger to his lips. "If you kiss me now, we'd have to go right back home to finish what we started, and I don't want to miss tonight. It's such a big day for you."

Dean could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. She was so proud of him.

It wasn't a big deal. They were launching the paper today, but they all did it every month. For him, though, this was the first time. They had loved his pictures so much that a couple of them were being used in tonight's Halloween party as a backdrop with some Halloweeny stickers. Y/N had been delighted to know about that. It was right after telling her that, that Dean had asked her out to the party.

She had been excited about it from the get go, especially the dressing up part. Dean found it amusing that she was so excited about dressing up even though she did it for a living. That was until he found out what she was planning to dress up as. Honestly, he shouldn't have expected any less of her. She had somehow convinced him to dress up as Gomez Addams, complete with the temporarily colored black hair. He might have to take a couple of days to wash it off completely, but again, her happiness was so palpable that he didn't want to take it away. She was ravishing as Morticia.

All things considered, it was still better than her idea of dressing up as Ted Bundy and Clementine Barnabet. Dean had to talk her out of it. He loved that she was still wearing the printed socks that he had gifted her. The skull beanie had been a constant up until tonight.

As the day approached though, despite her initial reaction, Y/N seemed to grow a little anxious about it. Not enough to curb her enthusiasm, but definitely enough to not fully enjoy it. They had had fun with putting together the ensembles. For the past week, since their evening on the beach, Dean had woken up at ungodly hours to catch Y/N's closing act of the night. All eyes in the club hungered for one look at her, but her eyes only searched his, and Dean felt like his chest widened a couple of inches each time.

After each show, he'd wait behind the curtains to welcome her when she came back, not believing that the Nymph was his. The other girls were happy for Y/N. They were all around her age, but she had mentored almost all of them. It made him clearly see her for who she was- a giver. She did so much for the girls who could very well end up being her own competition, and she did so much for all those little girls in Mia's school, too. Seeing her interact, he also realized that she was a natural teacher, she loved to share what she knew, selflessly.

They scourged through the fancy costumes at the Elixir, trying to try out funny hats and coats, entertaining the girls who had been exhausted after entertaining people all night long. Y/N's eyes shined when she saw him accepting her life and everyone in it so easily. She kissed him harder that morning in the car.

They did find the perfect costumes for Gomez and Morticia, too, there.

Other girls passing them were dressed as nurses or hot assistants, making the most of the opportunity to wear revealing clothes without it being questioned and more credit to them, but there was something very endearing about Y/N's childish excitement about dressing up in two full length layers.

"C'mon!" He grinned, pulling her by her arm, but she didn't move.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?"

Dean huffed. "Now you're having cold feet about this? After you made me spend 2 hours in the bathroom trying to get the hair right?"

"No… Dean," she said, voice abruptly serious. "It's not that, I mean…"

"Hey," Dean put his hand against her soft cheek. "You alright? You're not feeling sick, are you? I told you not to overdo the shifts. In fact, you can take it easy now. Anyway you're quitting the job next month when all your installments for the apartment are paid."

"Dean. Listen." She put her hand over his… the one she was already holding. "Do you want to be seen here with me?"

"Y/N!"

She was quick to put up her hand. "Look… I'm not doubting you. You're like God's personal blessing who just happened to creepily drop into my apartment, but not everyone is as accepting as you. Someone might recognize me… and I'm used to all sorts of slurs, but you're not. I don't want to put you through that."

Her voice had consistently risen, and her eyes were widening with every said word.

"Shhh… Just stop panicking," he said, pulling her against his chest. "You're missing the whole goddamned point here. You think I'd be ashamed if someone said anything about you? Don't you get it by now that I'm just beyond thrilled to be with a fantastic person like you? The first night when I found you at Elixir, I didn’t leave because I was mad at you, I left because seeing me there was distracting you. I thought you knew that."

She shook her head. "I do know that, and I know you won't be ashamed… I thought you'd be more like… angry."

"If someone called you a bad name?"

She nodded meekly against his silky black lapels.

"We could always make them a customer in our newly furnished torture room," he shrugged. "Bet that will teach them to talk crap about hard working people."

She laughed, breaking completely free of the dismal Morticia façade. "You're crazy."

"Says you!" He said smiled, pecking her cheek. "That's very rich, don't you think?"

This time she let him take her in.

If it was a rainbow disaster outside, the inside was how the fairy world would look in the scene of an Armageddon. It was insane. Dean didn't know where to put his eyes. Wasn't Halloween supposed to be incredibly gloomy? Why was it so colorful?

"Hold me!" Dean said, grabbing Y/N by the shoulders. "I think my retinas are screaming for a savior."

"Shut up, it's not that bad," she admonished. "Besides, bright flashing lights are supposed to make you bold and all that. People dance without stopping to think what they look like."

"Seems fair." Dean looked at the centre of the floor where couples were trying to dance along the jazz tune.

"You wanna go out there?" She jerked her neck towards the floor.

"What? No!" Dean said, flustered. "I can't dance to save my life."

"It's not that hard… come, I'll show you."

He rolled his eyes. Of course she could.

Y/N pulled him towards the dance floor, but still away from the centre. She guided his hands to her waist and put both of hers on his shoulders. "Now you just sway from one side to another. See? Like this."

"I'm just gonna step on your dress and pull us both down," he warned trying to follow her. It wasn't fair that she was doing it so effortlessly and he was left to struggle.

"OMG, Y/N!" Hannah exclaimed, walking up from behind. "I didn't know Dean was gonna bring you along! You both look great."

Hannah was dressed like a Vampire… at least that's what Dean made out of the fangs and blood crusted lips.

"Cas, Meg!" She called out. "Look, Dean's here and he bought Y/N along."

Soon enough Dean's other two friends were there. Meg was wearing a red and black bodysuit with horns and tail, while Cas was dressed in a white suit with attached feathered wings, a halow perched on top.

"Angel and Demon?" Y/N asked. "That's very original."

"Hey, it wasn't my idea," Cas said, pulling her into a half hug. Dean wasn't really sure Y/N was the hugging type, but Cas just gave the vibe.

"You turned out to be way more badass than we gave you credit for," Meg grinned, nudging Y/N in the shoulder. "And there we were wondering how you could rock that limbo so hard."

It was hard to tell in the flashing lights but Y/N seemed to blush.

The DJ changed the song to a more upbeat one Meg pushed Y/N towards Dean, "C'mon, you guys, move it!"

"You wanna move it?" Y/N wiggled her eyebrows, grinding against him. Dean laughed but before he could reply, his eyes fell on Nick who was eyeing them from the sides.

"C'mere!" Dean pulled Y/N tightly against him, one hand sliding down her back to grab her ass, the other fisted in her hair, holding her to him. He brought his lips to her temple, kissing her softly, then deliberately dragged it along her cheek and down to the base of her neck. Sucking a mark exactly where he knew affected her the most. Y/N's moan was both muted and involuntary.

"Dean!" She giggled. It wasn't something she did often, but Dean loved the sound. He didn't stop there…. He let his lips travel along the column of her neck, hands roving all over her back.

Y/N's fingers gripped his coat tightly, her chest rising and falling against his own. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Nick had disappeared.

"Who are you putting on a show for, Winchester?" She said, reaching up to kiss his lips, not caring about the lipstick anymore apparently.

"No one of importance," Dean shrugged. "You mind putting on a show?"

"Nope… not at all. I do that for a living."

Dean didn't care if he had put Nick in his place, or not. Nick had sure tried to ruin it all for Dean, but ultimately hadn't it worked in his favor after all. For all he cared, Nick could go screw himself. He had Y/N, there would never be a bigger victory than that.

"So about Thanksgiving," Y/N said, "I can't really cook a turkey. I mean we invited all these people, and I can't cook to save the world."

"It's okay, we'll figure something out," Dean replied. "There's like a million cookbooks out there. Besides we can always order, and everyone is getting something or the other. If the turkey sucks, we can eat the mashed potatoes."

"But counting Mia and the girls, Sam and Jess, Cas, Meg and the couple of girls from the club, there's like 12 of us. Our apartment isn't big enough."

"Y/N. Stop panicking!" They had both stopped dancing by now and were just holding each other's hands. "We have almost a month to go. By then you'd have signed the papers for the building and we can do it in the basement."

She still didn't look convinced.

"Hey," Dean lowered his face to look into her beautiful eyes. "Even if they don't like the turkey, the newly minted torture equipment will keep them from saying anything." He winked.

"Seriously, Dean," she said, "I've never done this before. I don't know how to talk to people… what to talk to people about. I just- this feels so normal and I've never had normal before."

His heart broke for her. She wanted this and yet she was so scared of the unknown.

"You know the girls, Y/N. And Meg and Cas are friends. They like you. You know that!"

She nodded absent-mindedly. "What about Sam and his girlfriend?"

Dean scoffed remembering the conversation he'd had with his brother. "Sam thinks you're way out of my league. And Jess? I've met that girl. You don't need to talk, she'll talk enough for everyone in the room."

"Mhmmm…"

He pulled her back against his chest and they started moving in slow circles again.

"You'll have your dream, Y/N. We'll have a studio downstairs and Mia can live here. You can study something else at the University in the day and I'll get a job in a few years down the line. We can eat crappy food, play scrabble on weekends and have long walks on the beach. That is normal, right?"

"That doesn't sound too bad," she mumbled, and her voice was so hopeful, Dean was tempted to take one look at her face to know what she was really thinking.

"Do you want to head home?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head. "Let's stay a while. This feels normal and I like it."

She put her head back against his shoulder as swayed on the same spot. Dean didn't know what tomorrow held. Hell, all of this was so new to him that he couldn't even estimate what the next minute was going to bring. But as long as he was with Y/N, he knew he could do it. He could do anything. Dean was happier than he had ever expected to be in his life.

He was learning what he loved, his brother was happy and doing good in life and there was an incredible girl in his arms.

To say he was content would be an understatement.

He was fucking ecstatic.

Dean bent down to kiss Y/N's forehead. He could get used to it…. in fact, he would be the luckiest guy in the whole wide world, if this unconventional life became his normal.

*************************

A/N 2: This is it, guys! We are done with one more series. My immense gratitude to everyone who has commented, sent asks, and words of love. It’s meant more to me than I can ever tell you. Thank you so much!! Much love <3

So, did you guys like it???

A/N 3: Please do consider reblogging my work and leaving feedback. Reblogging helps spread it, and also helps against the “best posts first” option tumblr has. The more the notes, the less chance of it getting buried beneath others posts. And the comments are what keep me going. I love you guys and I’ll be in forever grateful <3

Here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

UR taglist:

@deanssweetheart23 @captainradicalpassion @docharleythegeekqueen @sleepless-sin @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @ohgodwhybloggg @roxyspearing @oneshoeshort @theofficialduke @wildlandfox @mrswhozeewhatsis @emoryhemsworth @dslocum89 @justacinnamonroll @fanfreak07 @dustycelt @serienjunkiegirl @thinkwritexpress-official @babykalika2001 @daskleinevolk @jayankles @blacktithe7 @pensysto @iyannamckague @shamelesslydean @crystallstaircase @melonberri @commander-meghan-shepard @trenchcoat-angel @smiling-meerkat @sprnaturallover @violinbetty @fandom-trash-worth-it @grace-for-sale @katsanders @samwinchesterfanfic @bluestarshining @torn-and-frayed @adaliamalfoy @anathewierdo @gabavaldman @brindz30 @heavymetalhauswife @sdavid09 @hatemeup @plaidstiel-wormstache @deannawinchesterpie @kit-kat-katie99 @jessieray98 @mlovesstories @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @directionernullneun @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @theoriginalvicki @angelessquirrel @thereisnolumos @julie121899 @mikid2000 @freekryptonitecloud @padasteph-nie @luna-plena-venandi @tiffy119 @linki-locks11 @mirandaaustin93 @pjofangirl18 @hunterswearingplaid @cookiechipdough @superlock-on-pc @daughterleftbehind @abumbling-bee @savanna1899 @imweirdandobsessed @emilycollins11 @diariesofthebeautyobsessed @bakabozza @imascio08 @luvspnandphan @stormisamystery @atc74 @aiaranradnay @bellastellaluna @deansgirl215 @xristina-gkika @almostelegantfire @infinity-dreamchaser @roonyxx @ericaprice2008 @akshi8278 @leatherandapples @ceisbill @alwaysdreamingforthebest

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #reader x dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester reader insert #anawrites #anawritesspn #Ana writes UR #Ana writes Dean #ur epilogue #q

203 notes · View notes

tpwkwrites · 6 years

Text

Never Sometimes Always - Chapter One

Violet remembers the day she first saw him.

He came into the shop when she was with another customer – Mr. Dively. He was currently telling her all of his plans for his first trip to Disney World. He says the trip is for his daughters but Mr. Dively’s animated voice and flamboyant gestures say otherwise. There was a whole schedule made and he made sure that Violet knew the entire thing, insisting that if anything were to happen in their little village of Cheshire West and Chester, she would know what he’s doing at that moment before she rang him. She’s not sure what he’s expecting to happen, but she listens anyway.

He walks in just as the photos of matching outfits came out. (“Just in case one of the little ones got lost, you know?”).

He’s with Anne, a regular at the shop. He was wearing casual trackie bottoms. They were blue with a red stripe down both sides of the leg. They probably still cost more than all of Violet’s textbooks combined. He has on a plain white t-shirt, something she can likely afford, and some trainers with tall grey socks. There were shades perched high on his head, hidden by the abundance of curls that adorned his head and an annoyed expression on his face. She hopes he’s nicer than he looks at the moment.

Violet shoots Anne a quick smile, just as a bit of acknowledgment before she returned back to Mr. Dively. Violet then assumes that Anne is his mother. It makes the most sense.

“- have my number just in case you should ever need it.” He grabs his camera, universal stick and prints quickly before shuffling out of the way for the next in line. “See you in a week, Violet. Try not to miss me too much.”

Violet chuckles to herself, waving towards Mr. Dively even though he wasn’t looking back.

Next in line was Anne. She came to the till with a large smile on her face, nearly resembling a child whose left lessons early. Anne’s son, on the other hand, continued to stay barricaded by his private security detail. He looked exhausted. If the purple rings under his eyes were anything to go by Violet would reckon it was a couple of days since he’d gotten proper sleep.

“Violet, love, alright?”

Violet gives Anne her best smile as she watched to older woman dig around in her bag for something, presumably her universal hard drive.

“Not quite peachy keen, but I’ll get by.” Unlike other customers, Anne gets the full scoop of Violet’s life. Violet finds some type of comfort in Anne and she reckons Anne finds some in her too.

“Oh no, dear. Why’s that?” At this point, she’s still digging. This is what usually happens. It’s always ‘in the bottom of my purse somewhere’ or ‘hiding from me.’ Violet didn’t mind. It keeps the conversation going, and in a camera and printing shop with only three employees, Violet very much so loves outside conversations.

“Mums been buggering my head in since I came home from University. She pops into my old room at least ten times per hour just to see if I’m still there.”

“Your mother has missed you! Her only child has moved four hours away and hardly ever visits. I reckon she has the right to bugger you.”

Violet just laughs lightly at Anne’s response. Her mother and Anne have never met but she can tell they would get along easily.

Violet then looks at Harry and he’s looking around the shop with a scowl. She wonders what for. Anne must have noticed the silence because she looks up for a second before tucking back into her purse and saying, “Violet, I nearly forgot – my son, Harry. Harry, my dear friend, Violet.”

Harry’s head pops up at his name and Violet is stunned. Of course, she’s seen photos. Media photos and personal photos on Anne’s mobile. But nothing really prepared her for how handsome Harry is now that he’s right in front of her. He takes a step forward, already looking uninterested in the conversation, before shaking Violet’s hand. She glanced at the security detail and he looked around the shop, a bit embarrassed, but he didn’t say anything.

“Would you like me to lock the doors?”

Anne looks at Harry and then back at Violet. “Oh, love, you don’t have to do that.”

When she responds, it’s towards Harry. She can feel her cheeks go a bit hot, but she decides to ignore it. “It’s alright. It’s nearly a quarter to six. We’ll be closing soon.”

Then, he finally speaks. He’s got a smooth voice. It reminds her of warm honey and peanut butter sandwiches in the back garden on a sunny summers day with her dad's famous cup of breakfast tea.

“If you insist, that would be lovely.”

She nods with a smile. The keys are in her hand instantly and she tracks from behind the counter quickly. The security detail is now following her, presumably leaving. When the shop had been locked, and the bulky men had exited, there was almost a breath of fresh air in the atmosphere.

“Ah-ha!” Anne exclaims, holding the stick in the air.

Violet laughs and grabs the stick. “Reckon you should sellotape it to your forehead; you’ll never lose it then.”

The three of them laugh, and then Harry says, “then add your mobile up there – know how you are mum.”

Anne rolls her eyes and turns back to Violet. “It’s the folder that says Jamaica 2017.”

“Oh, lovely. You went on holiday?”

“Oh no. I wish! Harry’s just gotten back from Jamaica. Written a whole album, he has.”

Harry looks at his mom a bit panicked. “Mum, you can just tell people that.”

Anne chuckles as the images print. Violet already knows Anne’s usual size for all types of prints. Portraits are a little larger than landscape and landscapes are a little larger than items. “Violet is not people Harry. And to be frank, Violet knows quite a lot about you. Maybe even things you don’t know.”

Violet blushes at this comment but keeps her head down, labeling the separate photo packaging boxes.

There is a slight awkwardness now. The only real noise in the store is the photo printer buzzing away. The silence was nearly unbearable. Violet wondered what Harry had thought of Anne’s statement because she didn’t give any further explanation. He might think she’s a stalker or some type of mega fan.

Violet takes the first set of photos out and examines them for miss prints. They all looked wonderful. She would love to go on a tropical holiday at least once in the next few years, but with the way it’s looking financially, she’ll be lucky to have a spot at her university in the fall semester.

“I’m gonna browse around.” Violet is grateful that Anne had decided to crack the ice. She was afraid they could hear her thoughts of how silent it was. Anne made a straight shot to the other side of the shop, leaving Harry and Violet alone at the till.

Harry rocks a bit on his feet while Violet continues to sort the photos out on the worktop. She was surprised when Harry decided to break the silence.

“You’re a fan?”

She glances up a little too fast, bits of her hair fell in her line of sight and she scrambled to put them back in place. “No...I mean...I don’t, like, seek your stuff out.”

He nods, makes a surprised face, and scoffs. “Way to humble me, I ‘spose.”

“Oh,” she blushes. “No, I didn’t mean like that. I just never really have t–“

He chuckles. “It’s okay, Violet.”

Her name rolled off his tongue like gooey, melted chocolate. Or a spoonful of Jif’s creamy peanut butter. The way his lips curved around her name made her wonder what they taste like.

It was silent again. Anne had disappeared from sight, the photocopier was buzzing, and Harry was still making Violet’s hands sweat. “Is your music any good?”

Harry’s visibly taken aback by the question. He nods very confidently. “I would like to think so.”

Violet scoffs. Her eyes roll around and she looks up at Harry with something resembling a smirk. “Well, duh, you think so.”

He smiles. “Love, I’d like to think a couple hundred thousand people agree with me.”

“And every single one of them, up your arse.”

He leans against the worktop now, much closer than he was before. In fact, if it were anyone else Violet would’ve claimed it to be too close. “Is that true?”

“Oh, most definitely.” She packs the last set of photos in the package and glances up at Harry.

“Would you give me a second opinion then?”

“Excuse me?”

“Heard me. Want to listen to my album?”

“Or what?”

“Does there have to be one?” He asks.

She shakes her head softly, bits of her hair falling back in her face. She didn’t push it back this time. “No. I’d love to.”

He smiles, dimples and teeth popping out this time. She thinks it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. “Great. Dinner then. At mums. Surely she’s told you our address.”

Violet laughs at this because yeah, she has. “See you then.”

“See you then.”

They hadn’t realised it but it’s been a while since they looked away from each other. She was studying his face, wondering exactly how he’s gotten it so smooth and symmetrical.

“You’re done!” Anne’s voice startled them both, making the pair pushback from their unusually close proximity. This doesn’t get away from Anne. In fact, nothing has. She’s been watching this whole time. “How much will it be?”

“Nonsense Anne. You know it’s always on the house.”

“And I always pay. Now, how much?”

Harry quickly pulls his wallet from his pocket and hands Violet fifty quid. She began to ring up the change while Harry got scolded by his mum.

“Keep the change,” Harry says.

Violet shoves it further in his direction. “That’s a lot of change.”

“Keep the change,” he repeats. She sighs and sorts the pence back into its place. When she looks back up both of them are watching her. “See you at dinner.”

Ahhhhhh tell me how you feel! Was this good? Did you like it? Please share, reblog, and like. I hope you guys enjoyed it! [Hopefully, there’s no grammatical errors :]. Expect a chapter once a week! Let me know if you want to be on a tag list and get notified every time I upload.

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ben243s-transformation-stories · 6 years

Text

Be Careful What You Buy on the Internet

My name is Sam, and I am a dog. A yellow lab to be exact. I haven't always been this way. When I got up this morning, I was human. My boyfriend Kevin invited me over to his house to see this new charm he had ordered over the Internet. It came with instructions on how to turn a person into an animal; I figured it would never work, so I let him try it. Big mistake. Now he can't seem to figure out how to turn me back. Kevin was always ordering weird things from the Internet, and wanting me to help him try them out. When he called this Morning, I figured it might be fun to see what he had gotten this time since I was bored and had nothing better to do. I threw on some clothes and walked the block or so to his house. Kevin was waiting for me with a gleam in his eye. "Wait until you see what I got this time" he said. I grinned and shook my head. "Can't wait" I replied, only a little sarcastically. He led me into his living room, and showed me a beautifully carved charm, about the size of a half dollar. It looked surprisingly authentic. "It is the Canis charm from the lost culture of Dogistan, or something" Kevin tried to explain. I half tuned him out because each “relic” he purchased was sillier than the last., "uh huh, so what's it do?" I asked. Kevin looked at me as if I had just rained on his parade. With a serious expression on his face, he said, " it lets me turn anyone I want into any type of dog I want." I looked at him as if he were crazy. " What do you think this is, some type of fantasy story? There's no such thing as transformations. People can't become animals." I think I hurt his feelings because he looked a little deflated. It only lasted for a moment though. " Oh ye of little faith. This is the real deal. " He finally replied. "Okay then, let's see what the charm of yours will do." I said as he led me into his living room. I stood in the center of the room, while Kevin fumbled with the instructions that had come with the package. He held the charm over his head, and read some words that sounded like gibberish to me. When nothing happened, Kevin looked dejected, and started to lower his arm. "Sorry man, I thought...." He started to say just as the dog on the charm lit up, and a red beam of light hit me squarely on the chest and knocked me into the wall. It must have knocked the wind out of me because I passed out for a minute. When I came to, Kevin was standing over me worried, asking, "My God, are you alright?" I tried to answer but couldn't get the words out. After a few seconds I felt more normal and tried to stand up. I made it to my feet, but I could tell something was wrong. My entire body felt funny, almost numb. That kind of feeling you get when your foot falls asleep. I looked down at myself and saw a huge hole in my shirt with singed edges. Man, I really liked that shirt. Without thinking I ripped the shirt off to make sure my chest didn’t have a similar hole in it. Lucky everything looked okay, but I sure wasn’t feeling the same way. As the tingling intensified, I found my clothing becoming more and more uncomfortable against my skin. Without thinking I kicked off my shoes and socks, and pants tossing them aside. I hesitated some when I started to take of my boxer briefs, but it what ever was going on definitely wanted me naked as the itching and tingling picked that moment to spike. I couldn’t take the feeling any longer and practically tore my underwear from body. I was now totally naked in my friend’s living room, but at least the tingling had subsided for now. The relief only lasted for a few seconds as a new wave quickly overcame me. I looked at my body in horror as hair started growing out all over my body. I soon felt cramps in my hands and feet, and was afraid to look at them. After a few moments, I built up enough courage to look at my hands, and saw that they now resembled paws. The hair continued to grow, and was fully covering my body. Once my paws were completely formed, something forced me down onto all fours. My arms and legs went through what looked like painful changes, and I was glad that I was basically numb. My mind was having trouble with what was going on. Clearly I was changing into an animal, but that wasn’t possible. I must be hallucinating I tried to rationalize. Soon I was standing on four equal length legs. I felt a pressure at the base of my spine, and looked around just in time to see what could only be a tail burst forth. It quickly reached its full length and was covered in a coat of blond fur. If not for the calming and numbing effects I was experiencing I surly would have passed out or started to panic. As it was I couldn’t help but watch with a certain terrified fascination. Before I could fully take in my previous changes, I could feel my face starting to push out. My nose turned black and flattened out, and my ears started moving and getting longer. Soon I had a full muzzle and my head had changed shape to that of the dog I was becoming. It wasn’t long before a few final changes happened in the shape of my body to support my new for legged stance, and the hair finished growing in to give me a complete coat of fur. The tingling started to subside, and exhausted I collapsed to the floor. It felt like the transformation had taken ages, but I could tell from the fact that Kevin had hardly moved it had only taken seconds. Kevin rushed to my side, and was clearly scared. He was hesitant to touch me, and kept apologizing. “Don’t worry, I’ll find some way to turn you back.” He tried to reassure me. Kevin rushed off to find the directions and find a way to reverse the process. All I could do for the next half hour was lie on my side and rest. When Kevin didn’t come back right away, I decided to try and find him. After a few tries, I finally managed to pull myself up onto my feet, err paws, and go looking. As I passed a mirror in the hall, I couldn’t help but stare. Gone were all semblances of my human self, and in their place was a dog. I watched in fascination as the dog in the mirror mimicked my movements, not quite letting myself believe that this was really happening. Kevin’s cursing drew me out of my tunnel vision, and brought me back to reality. I trotted over to him, and tried to ask what was wrong, but all that came out were barks. Some how he still managed to get my meaning, and told me, “ I’m sorry, I didn’t really expect this to work, so I only got the base version. The reversal directions were extra. There is a warning that if the spell is not reversed within 72 hours It will become permanent. I’m so sorry”. With that he broke down crying. I tried to reassure him, but wasn’t quite sure how. Kevin finally pulled himself together, and tried to call the customer service number printed on the instructions. All he got was a phone tree that had options for shipping or reordering, but nothing specific about the products themselves, and no way to actually talk to a live person. Frustrated he hung up, and went through his bookmarks looking for the web site he had ordered from. Finding the link he was sure was the one, he clicked on it and waited as the page reloaded. We both stared at the screen and were greeted with a notice that the site was down for maintenance, and wouldn’t be available until Monday afternoon. As it was Friday morning, that was too long to wait. We looked at each other not sure what to do next. I wasn’t much help as I couldn’t communicate my thoughts well, and I was still trying to get used to my new body. I wasn’t sure what Kevin was feeling, but I could tell he wasn’t taking this well. He spent the next several hours trying to search for help on the web, but wasn’t coming up with anything useful. I was left alone to wonder the house, and as I did so I could feel the pull of the animal instincts. I could easily resist them now, but somehow I could tell that they would be come stronger and stronger. I knew that by the time the 3 days had passed the dogs mind will have completely taken over and I would become nothing more than a normal dog. I found that thought to be very unsettling and set my mind to finding some way out of this predicament. After searching for hours, Kevin was clearly getting burned out. I finally took his hand lightly in my mouth and pulled him away from the computer. “Good Idea Sam. Lets Go for a walk and clear out heads.” Kevin got up and pulled on his jacket, and I followed after him. It was early fall, and the air was crisp and cool, and it was an odd sensation against my skin. My fur coat kept me plenty warm. I was worried however, because I didn’t have a collar or leash. All the time we walked, I kept a careful eye out for authority figures that might hassle us. I couldn’t afford to spend the weekend in the pound. The walk felt good, and helped me to get used to my new form. I tried to think of solutions to get me back to normal, but it was hard as I kept getting distracted by squirrels and smells other dogs had left behind. It took a lot out of me to keep from letting the animal in me take over. It pushed as hard as it could, but I was able to hold it at bay for now. After the walk, Kevin commented that he needed to use the bathroom, and I realized I did too. As we got back to his house, he led me to his back yard and locked me in. At first I was a little put out, but I quickly realized that I couldn’t use the toilet anymore, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted anyone to watch me relieve myself. Fortunately the neighbors couldn’t see much, and even if they could, I doubt they would have paid much attention. All they would see was a dumb dog doing its business. I found the traditional leg lift position to be the most effective, and quickly did what I needed to do. Once I was done, Kevin popped his head out the window and told me he was going out to get something for lunch. Just hearing the word made my stomach rumble. I hoped he wouldn’t take too long. While he was gone, I decided to explore the yard. I had a great time sniffing everything and barking at the occasional squirrel that got too close. The new scents my nose could pick up were amazing. I could also hear all kinds of new sounds I didn’t even know existed. I started to think being a dog wouldn’t be so bad. Realizing what I was thinking I shook my head, and tried to push that thought as far away as I could. After what seemed like an eternity Kevin returned. He was carrying several bags when he came around to let me back in. I could smell the food. It was wonderful. Probably the best thing I had ever smelled. Kevin set the bags down on the table, and said “Let’s take care of a few things before we eat”. I looked at him quizzically, as he pulled out a bag from the local pet store. He drew out a blue collar with a tag that he had engraved with my name and his contact information on the back. He fastened the collar around my neck. I wasn’t sure I liked where this was going. I didn’t want him to start treating me like a pet, but I knew the collar would circumvent a lot of potential problems. He also pulled out a matching leash, some toys and a couple of bowls. I hadn’t thought about eating, but knew that I wouldn’t be able to sit at the table. Kevin rinsed out the bowls, and filled one with water, and placed my lunch in the other. After he set them down in front of me, I took a tentative lap at the water, and after a few tries got the hang of drinking from the bowl. The smell of the burger was almost too much to resist. Without realizing it, I practically wolfed it down, sending crumbs and bits of condiments everywhere. Kevin got a laugh out of that as he ate his burger in a more traditional manner. I found myself sitting in front of him staring at his food with a sad look on my face until he couldn’t take it anymore and gave me the rest of his burger. I was quite pleased with myself, and ate it as quickly as I could. Kevin cleaned up and threw the trash out, and we went back to the living room. Once we were there, he pulled out one last package. He pulled out a scrabble set, and opened it up, pouring the letters onto the floor. “You can use these to spell out words and we can communicate.” He said. I had to admit that was a pretty smart idea. We also decided that one bark for yes and two for no would be easiest for simple questions. The rest of the afternoon proved just a fruitless as the morning, and we were no closer to finding a way to reverse the spell than when we started. It was starting to look hopeless. I would be trapped as a dog forever. Kevin got up and went outside. I followed after him, and we found our self in the back yard. Kevin picked up a stick, and idly threw it. I know he was just trying to let off a little steam, but I couldn’t help myself from chasing after it and bringing it back. I think it surprised Kevin, but he took it from me and threw it again. We played this way for almost an hour. I think he was really getting into the idea of having a dog, and I could feel more and more of myself slipping away the longer we played, but I just couldn’t resist. By the time we went back inside, I was having a hard time coming back to my human ways of thinking. I would have to be careful or I would lose myself all together. Kevin made dinner, and it was some of the best food I had ever had. Everything tasted so much better as a dog, and I finished my meal in under a minute. After I was done eating, Kevin let me out to do my business while he finished and cleaned up the dishes. Before we went to bed, we chatted for a while, or as best as I could trying to spell out everything. I let Kevin know that I didn’t blame him for what happened. I know he was taking it hard and didn’t want to totally destroy him. He told me again how sorry he was, and thanked me for forgiving him, and we headed off to bed. As we slept, I started to dream about events from my childhood. Only this time, they were from the point of view of a puppy. I could feel my mind changing as I slept, and large chunks of my past were changing into the memories of a dog. I dreamt about Kevin adopting me as a puppy, and all the good times we had playing fetch and other typical dog games. When I awoke the next morning, it took me a moment to realize where I was. I could smell the food Kevin was cooking in the kitchen, and made my way there. It was almost ready, and he greeted me with a “Hello boy!”. I wagged my tail and gave him a big lick. I was disgusted with myself, but couldn’t resist. Kevin happily scooped some food into my bowls and I happily ate it all and licked the bowl clean. Kevin tried to talk to me after breakfast, and I had to work hard to understand what he was saying. My thoughts kept becoming scattered and it was harder to concentrate on what he was saying. Most of the memories of my schooling and childhood had become those of a dog, making it harder for me to remember how to spell words and communicate my feelings. As the day went on it became harder and harder and the words woof and bark appeared more and more frequently in my sentences. I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to form any coherent sentences. I was starting to get scared. Luckily Kevin had found some leads and we decided to follow them up. Kevin hooked the leash to my collar, and it felt weird and right at the same time. The dog instincts were definitely slipping farther and farther into my mind, strongly effecting how I was behaving. As we walked down to the address Kevin had found, I noticed that unless I concentrated on it, I would feel myself drifting away, and letting myself think and act as a dog would. It felt so good and natural and was harder and harder to come back from each time. I could tell that time was running out. Even If I could become human again, I wasn’t sure how much of my original self would remain. The address was in the seedier part of town, and was hard to find through all the dilapidated buildings. Neither Kevin nor I felt safe on the streets, but we knew we had to press forward. Eventually we came to a building that looked like it had been bombed out years ago. The numbers matched, so we carefully made our way inside. We walked carefully through the building until we found the right suite number. I held my breath as we pushed the door open, hoping to find what we needed inside. The room was dark, and Kevin shined his flashlight over the interior. I felt a feeling not unlike a punch in the gut. The place had been ransacked years ago. The window had been broken open, and the elements had come through. Everything was water damage, and I could smell the presence of mice and rats that had been chewing on things. We spent hours trying to sift through the debris trying to find anything that could help us. Either the cure, or someone we could contact, or another place to look. We found a few things that looked promising, but most of them were too badly damaged to easily make any use of. We stuffed what we could into Kevin’s backpack, and got out of the building before it collapsed on us. The walk home was uneventful, and the prospect of finding a way to reverse this spell kept me grounded and helped me resist the lure of giving in to the dog. Kevin grabbed us some lunch on the way, which we ate quickly, and we moved into the living room to sift through what we brought home. There were some artifacts like the charm Kevin had used on me, but they were all different and broken in some way. None of them seemed even remotely useful. We placed them to the side and focused on the documents. Most of them were invoices and such, but there were a good number of more promising ones. As we sifted through them, I found it more and more difficult to read what they said, and not just because they were damaged. I could feel my knowledge of the words slipping from my mind. Before long they were almost unintelligible to me. I tried to let Kevin know the problems I was having, but it was difficult to get the ideas out. I think he finally understood, and I was relegated to watching while he tried to make sense of the documents. It was late in the evening after we had gone through the stacks, and gotten nowhere. Some of them might have had the information we needed, but it was far too damaged and degraded to make use of. Kevin let me out to take care of business while he cooked dinner. I was feeling far too depressed to put up much of a fight, and soon found myself running around the yard and playing with the toys Kevin had brought without a care in the world. I was almost having too much fun to come in when it was time for dinner. I was panting like crazy when I came in, and dashed over and drained the water bowl in seconds. I ate the food so quickly I don’t even know what it was. It could have been a bowl of dog food for all I knew. I stared at Kevin as he ate with a vacant look on my face. It was a while that he was talking to me before I was able to snap out of it and pull myself out of the dog mindset. I had given up on trying to form any complex thoughts or use the tiles to spell anything out, so I had to make do with simple barking. It wasn’t perfect, but we did manage to have a reasonably productive conversation. We formulated a plan. We had one last lead that was an antique shop that wouldn’t open until tomorrow afternoon. That was cutting it kind of close in getting what we needed, and figuring out how to use it, but we couldn’t think of another choice. We went to bed that night exhausted from the search, and emotionally drained. Hopefully tomorrow would bring the answers we need, and there would still be enough human of me left to bring back. As I slept, I dreamt of my teenage years. As the dreams progressed, they were changing. I was now a dog in them, and many started to revolve around Kevin as if I had always been his pet. All memory of my former family drifted away, to be replaced the dog’s memories. Many of the most prominent events in my life were edited to be from a dog’s point of view, and the lesser ones just vanished all together. By the time I woke up in the morning, most of my past had been completely erased and replaced with the past of the dog I was becoming. I tried as hard as I could to remember any of my past life, but it just wouldn’t come. In some ways it was very scary to me, but that quickly passed, and I couldn’t understand what the big deal was. I was a dog, and that was the way things were supposed to be. It was easy to just relax into the simple life of a dog, but something kept nagging at the back of my mind that this wasn’t the way things were supposed to be. As I made my way to the kitchen for breakfast, I found it hard to remember the names of the things I was seeing. It felt weird to me, but my mind kept insisting that this was normal. I couldn’t miss the smell of the food, and ran straight to my bowl. I gobbled it down as fast as I could. Kevin said something to me, but I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. It was all gibberish to me. Kevin let me out to do my business, and watched me from the window. I could tell he was sad but wasn’t sure why. I found a nice tree to relieve myself against and proceeded to play with my toys. Kevin watched for a little while longer, and was clearly distressed by how much of myself I seemed to have lost. He blamed himself and tried to convince himself, without much success, that it wasn’t to late. He hoped that we could still find a way to fix this. When it was finally time to visit the antique shop, I was hanging on by a thread. I was dog far more than human now, and what was left of my human self could only retain control for a few minutes at a time at most. The store was too far to walk to, so Kevin drove. I spent most of the trip with my head out the window enjoying the wind on my face. We pulled into the parking lot, and the store looked like it was antique itself. I wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but knew we had to go through with it. Kevin pulled the door, and had to use all his strength to pull it open. He finally opened it enough for us to squeeze in, and we jumped when it slammed shut behind us. The store was massive, and we couldn’t see the other side from where we were standing. There was a checkout stand not too far from where we were, and we made our way there. There was a woman manning the checkout, and Kevin approached and explained the situation to her. She eyed him skeptically, but when he produced the charm, she made him put it away. “Wait here” she said, and disappeared somewhere in the back of the shop. Twenty or so minuets later, a strange looking man came out, and Kevin again told him our story. He looked only half interested, but something told me to trust him. He walked around us, and gave me a through examination. “Yes I think I can help you. It will be costly, and there can be no guarantees. Time is growing short and there may not be enough left to fully reverse this.” He said seriously. Kevin pulled out a wad of cash and handed it to the man. He took it and disappeared to collect the things he required. By the time he was done getting things together, it was late in the evening. We had a quick meal of Chinese while he explained what to do. He had cast a spell on the amulet so it would be able to reverse the spell, and he gave us the words to recite. It would take some time to recharge the amulet, and we hoped it would be done in time. Kevin thanked him, and we drove home to attempt the reversal. I fell asleep on the ride home, and I slept I could feel the last of my humanity being revised or erased. The memories of everything that had happened to me over the last few months became memories seen from the dog’s perspective. By the time we pulled up to Kevin’s house, there was nothing human left at all. I was now nothing more than Kevin’s Faithful pet. As Kevin led me into the house, it wasn’t long before he noticed that something was different. Putting two and two together, he knew I had lost the battle to maintain myself. He looked at the charm, but it was still dark. He wondered if he had been taken, but put that thought out of his mind, and decided to play with me until it was time. We went out to the back yard, and Kevin had fun with me despite himself. He had always wanted a pet, but had never been able find the right one. Maybe it was me. I fell asleep with my head on Kevin’s lap in the living room, and I had some of the best dreams possible. Kevin awoke suddenly due to a strange light flashing in the room. It took him a minute to wake up enough to realize that it was the charm. He quickly grabbed it and the directions, and followed them as best he could. He prayed that it wasn’t too late. I was surrounded by a bright light and could feel the tingling feeling again, but nothing happened. I looked down at my body and realized I was still a dog. “Shoot, It didn’t work” I said. It took me a moment to realize that I had actually spoken. Kevin looked shocked. I was still stuck in the body of the dog, but somehow the spell had restored my humanity. I still had all the dog memories, but my human ones were back too. I could choose which ones I wanted, and keep full control. I also seemed to gain the ability to speak again. Not quite sure how that worked with my canine mouth, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to question it. Over the next few weeks we made everything official. I moved in with Kevin, and arranged for a lawyer that would draw up the papers for him to handle my property and possessions. It was a little more expensive to find one that wouldn’t ask too many questions and wouldn’t need to actually see me, but it was worth it. Thanks to the money Kevin got from selling my things, he would be able to support us for a long time without having to worry about anything. The last part was the part I was dreading most. If I was going to stay a dog, then I would need to be licensed, and have my shots. The trip to the vet was scary, but not as bad as I feared. Kevin had me micro chipped and got all of my shots. When the vet asked if he would like to have me neutered, he pretended to consider it. I gave him my fiercest look and thought, “wait till we get home” at him. As Kevin settled up the bill, the tech gave him my new license tag, and the rabies and microchip tags, and affixed them to my collar. I kind of liked the way the jingled as I walked. It took a while, but I finally convince Kevin that I wasn’t mad at him for what he had done to me, and I really was happy. I don’t think he ever gave up looking for a way to change me back fully, but something inside me made me feel like this was the way things were supposed to be. Still, every time a truck came to deliver something Kevin had ordered, I ran and hid under the bed until I was sure it wasn’t another one of his weird toys. I didn’t want to have to go through that ever again. I still loved Kevin with all my heart, and now as his dog I had new ways to show my love for him. We grew old together, and deeper in love. I don’t think there was anyway we could have been happier together. Even if we were both Humans.

#dog transformation

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wintermell · 7 years

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coming out of my cage (and i’ve been doing just fine)

[ @jonsa-countdown GOTTA GOTTA BE DOWN BECAUSE I WANT IT ALL! i have to admit, i’m always a slut for mr. brightside, so i put that into an angsty fic. the diner in this story was actually inspired by one near where i live, which has great belgian waffles. anyways, here’s some tears and fluff. enjoy! ❤, amelia ]

coming out of my cage (and i’ve been doing just fine) (ao3)

day five : songs

Sansa wipes tears from her eyes, hugging her arms across her chest. She carries her broken white heels in one hand. There’s a white marble fountain at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the Red Keep Country Club. She tosses the heels in the water and continues in her bare feet. It should feel satisfying, but all she can comprehend is anger and pain.

There’s a bench on the sidewalk which is protected by several tall oaks. Instead of sitting on it, she sits beside it. Somehow, the ground is more comfortable.

Her dress, her beautiful dress, is torn down the side. She had been so proud when she put it on earlier. It’s a sleeveless, pale gold, knee length dress that spun beautifully when she danced. To make matters worse, it’s a jagged rip that she’s not sure she’ll be able to repair. Sansa hadn’t thought to bring a coat or a shawl either, and the cold November air bites her to the bone.

Inside the country club, she hears a new song begin. It’s Mr. Brightside. She buries her face in her hands and sobs. On top of everything, of course she’d be crying out on the sidewalk while her favorite song in the entire world played inside.

When she regains control of her tears, she pulls out her phone and dials the first name on her emergency contacts list. It rings twice before the line is picked up.

“Hey, Robb?”

“Hey, Sansa, what’s up?”

“Nothing, I just… can you come pick me up? I’m at the Red Keep Country Club for Joffrey’s birthday party-” Her voice breaks. She hopes he doesn’t hear how desperate she is.

“I’m so sorry, Sans, I’m at Margaery’s right now. I mean, if you can wait forty five minutes, then I can come get you,” he says. “Are you alright, though?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry, just forget it,” she says, hanging up abruptly. Tonight, she has no patience for her brother’s well-intentioned bullshit. The next name on her emergency list is Jon Snow. With only a few seconds of hesitation, she presses the call symbol. It rings, and then goes to voicemail.

“Hey, this is Jon, sorry I’m not here. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

“Jon, it’s Sansa. I’m at the Red Keep Country Club. I really need a ride. Please let me know if you can come. Thank you.”

She hangs up and sighs. It’s an hour’s drive back to her family’s house. If no one can pick her up, it’s going to be a very long walk home.

Her phone buzzes seconds later. She picks it up and reads five lifesaving words- I’ll be there in 10.

When his old pickup truck pulls up, Sansa doesn’t hesitate to slip inside. She slams the door and slumps into the passenger seat. The radio is tuned to a classical music station, and she recognizes Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture playing quietly with intermittent static.

“Sansa, what- Jesus Christ, are you okay?” His dark curls are in disarray, and he’s wearing his glasses instead of contacts. She woke him up to come get her. The guilt is eating her alive.

“I’m alright,” she lies in a hoarse whisper, hugging her knees to her chest.

“Do you want me to call the police? I swear, if anyone hurt you-”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Sansa, I’m really worried about you right now,” he says. Concern is slathered across his handsome face.

“I wouldn’t let Joffrey fuck me in a country club bathroom, so he broke it off. Jon, I don’t want to talk about this right now. I really want to go,” she begs, and he immediately pulls away from the curb.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Not home,” she says, thinking of her family. Sansa doesn’t want to come through the front door with a ripped dress and mascara stained cheeks. Arya will want to fight someone, Bran will question her relentlessly, Rickon will start to cry on her behalf, and Uncle Benjen (bless his soul) will probably take the initiative call the cops. “Anywhere but home.”

“I’ve got an idea,” he says, offering a smile that she can’t bring herself to return. Jon pulls over into the parking lot of a small diner. A large neon sign outside reads Castle Black Cafe. The sign listing the hours shows her that it should be closed, but the door is unlocked and there’s a man in an apron standing inside, wiping down the counter. Thankfully, there are no other customers.

“Hey, Sam,” says Jon, “could we have a couple minutes here?”

“Oh, sure! Be my guest. The tables are all clean, and I can put on some music while you eat.” He looks at her and grins. “You must be Sansa! I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Hi,” she says, wondering exactly why Sam has been hearing about her. A light pink blush has settled across Jon’s cheeks. He picks a booth next to a window overlooking the road. Outside, the streetlight changes from red to green. A delivery truck drives down the boulevard with a deep baritone rumble.

“Can I get you two anything?” Sam asks.

“I don’t have my wallet,” mutters Sansa.

“It’s on the house,” says Sam. “Any friend of Jon’s is a friend of mine!”

“Let me get a Belgian waffle with blueberry topping and a slice of lemon meringue pie. And two hot chocolates,” Jon says.

Sansa smiles faintly. She loves lemon meringue more than life itself. Sam waltzes away to the kitchen.

“Hey,” says Jon, “if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. But if you do, if you ever do, I’m right here.” He reaches over and hesitantly wraps his fingers around hers.

Sam comes back with their food and hot chocolates. Sansa expects Jon to turn his attention to his waffles (which smell heavenly), but he just looks at her with sad brown eyes.

“I’m angry. I’m lonely. I’m sick and tired of people treating me like shit. Everything around me is falling apart. It feels like I’ll never be able to survive in this stupid word,” she says.

“You’re one of the best people I know, Sansa. You’ve gone through so much fucked up stuff. I know it’s hard with your parents gone. Just remember, you always have me. I’m never going to abandon you, I promise,” he says.

That small promise means more to her than he could ever know. A thought at the back of her mind begins to ring through her head. Maybe Jon Snow will be the start of something better. She has to push it aside, though, to face her other worries.

“I can’t go home,” she whispers. He nods, tracing circles with his thumb on the back of her hand.

“You can stay at my place for as long as you need to. I really don’t want you to feel lonely. There’s a spare room- I don’t have any extra sheets, but you can take my bed and I’ll go out to the shops tomorrow- and I know Ghost loves you,” he says sincerely.

Sansa wishes she could throw her arms around him and never let go. Suddenly, she realizes that soft music is playing through the diner. Fresh tears well up in her eyes. I’m coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine...

“What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong? God, I’m sorry,” Jon says quickly. She shakes her head, hiding her face.

“No, it’s not you. I just need a minute.”

Her tears fall on her lemon meringue. Jon presses a kiss to her knuckles and does his best to comfort her. When Sam comes back to check on them, Jon asks for two takeaway boxes.

It’s two o’clock in the morning when they leave the Castle Black Cafe. Sansa’s eyes are bloodshot and her throat is dry. She shivers when they get in the freezing car, and Jon drapes his flannel jacket over her shoulders and finds a pair of thick wool socks for her to slip on her feet.

His apartment is cold (he explains that he turns down the heat to save money), and is surprisingly tidy. Ghost, the pale white Shiba Inu, is asleep on the sofa. An array of papers are spread across the coffee table, with Jon’s careful calculations printed across them. There are three framed items on his wall. The first is his internship offer for NASA, the second is a picture of him when he was three, all smiles as he rode on his mother’s shoulders at a carnival, and the third is a picture of him, Robb, and Sansa. They’re in the middle of laughing wholeheartedly, sitting around a campfire on a summer night.

“I’ve got some salad in the fridge if you’re still hungry. Do you want to watch TV? I’ve got HBO. Robb told me about a new series that’s pretty good. There are some board games in my room, too. And if you want to sleep, my room’s just over there-”

“No, thanks,” she says. Of course she’s tired to the bone and her ribs hurt from crying, but she knows that being left alone to her thoughts will only make matters worse.

“Tell me what you need. Anything at all.”

She pulls out her phone and scrolls through her music. Mr. Brightside is the first on her favorites playlist. Sansa hits play and sets it down on the coffee table.

“They played it at the party while I was outside waiting for you… I didn’t get to dance, and it’s my favorite song,” she explains.

He opens his arms, and she falls into them without question. Sansa leans against him and sighs. Jon smells like mint and campfire smoke, which is her new favorite combination. The loneliness is beginning to melt away.

“You know, I always thought you’d be more of a Wonderwall person,” he says. She laughs for the first real time in ages.

“Thank you,” Sansa whispers. He kisses the top of her head and murmurs always, love into her hair.

As long as she has him, she’ll be just fine.

#jonsacountdown #jonsa #jonsa fic #coming out of my cage

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border-to-insanity · 7 years

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Courage and Valor

~** Small Hitch fic that I got prompted from after reading @mooberg‘s fics (X) & Courage. Take a look, and I do highly recommend reading them before reading this.

Words: 1445 (SFW, but cursing and fighting)

Enjoy**~

Glitch has been known to not have the best temper between the two of them, Horns has seen her and Peony got at it for several hours after Peony said something that rubbed Horns the wrong way, wondering how the two were able to throw so many projectiles and not only never hit the other, but also not hit him or one of the other teammates as they darted around trying to stop the twos totally epic brawl. But he has also seen her at her most beautiful. When she greets him in the mornings with a bright smile, mug of tea in hand made just the way that makes him swoon, he’s seen her wake after a mid-afternoon nap, eyes still hooded with sleep and cheeks blushed pink and lips plush, and then proceed to walk right into the closed sliding glass door…

He knows that around her, Horns doesn’t have to play any act or pretend to be something he’s not, he’s open and honest with her and has lost count on how many times the two have laid in bed and just had pillow talk about absolutely nothing until the sun came up. Nonetheless he still gets jittery, feels cornered, or like someone just hooked him right in the gut when he feels certain gazes, hears the condescending hushed murmurs or the laughing chimes that ring in his ears, forcing him to his knees as he clutches onto anything to try and keep him anchored.

Yet she’s always there. Her soothing voice in the shell of his ear, whispering for him to remember to breathe, soothing touches to his back for a gentle reminder that he isn’t alone… Or sometimes he sees the spark in her eyes that ignites as she turns on the person to give a witty remark, already knowing that what he lacks in courage, she has in valor. And he appreciates it, even if he never says it.

“Hell no Glitch!” Horns has to remember that his jaw is hanging open and promptly shut it before crossing his arms over his chest, his cheeks flushed slightly in his flustered way as he sat on the edge of his bed tensely.

“But Milooooosc!” The virus cat said rolling over in his bed, her head propped up on his pillow “I need to go to the store.”

“Go without me.” He rolled his eyes. “You don’t need me to help you pick up some clothes.”

“I need your help with picking what colors.” Glitch whined once more, butting her head against his shoulder. Her lips peppered kisses up his arm and Horns felt himself caving. He ran a hand down his face and let out a long sigh. “Fine.”

“This is not fine.” Horns paled as Glitch dragged him into the store, the lingerie store no less.

“I need more panties.” Glitch said, not even sparing him a backwards glance. “After all, you ripped my cheetah printed ones and those were my favorite-”

“-I said I was sorry!”

“Well now you can prove it by helping me pick out new ones!”

Horns drew an inward sigh, already knowing that he lost this battle and instead following her reluctantly over to the bin containing the scanty undergarments.

Horns tried to just tune out the rest of the world, and it wasn’t that hard. There weren’t many other customers in the store, just two girls looking at matching bra panties sets and a lost dude who stared blankly at a wall of socks, glancing down to a crumpled paper in his hand, muttering to himself about his wife, and the sales clerk in the corner who looked bored as hell. Once in awhile, Horns could hear her pop a bubble that she blew as she chomped away idly on a piece of gum. He tried paying attention to Glitch and giving a shrug or nod when she held up a pair of underwear to him, seeking his approval, when he heard the voices raise in slight irritation.

“-one over there, that's the fucking deviant.”

Horns froze, a spike of fear shooting up his spine as he turned toward the source of the voices. It was the two girls by the matching sets. They locked eyes with him, one pulling her lips back to sneer and the other saying something else that made Horns stomach churn as he recognized the voice. Green.

Horns was tugged back to reality as Glitch’s hand landed on his shoulder and he spun around to look at her. She took one look at his frightened face and then glanced to the two girls, her ears perked in the direction and Horns knew she was hearing the things about him that his human ears couldn’t hear from this distance. She quickly put two and two together and Horns watched as her eyes flickered dangerously, hearing her sharp intake of a breath and the hiss that she let out as she slunk past him, making a beeline for the two of them.

He knew he should move to stop her, he should grab her hand and drag the two of them out of the store and to the foodcourt to cooldown, but yet he stood frozen in place. Green had seen her approaching and met her halfway, close enough to where Horns could hear everything that the two angrily exchanged.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Glitch, the one who’s boyfriend you're spitting derogatory terms at.”

“Ooooh? I’m so sorry you're dating such a loser. I can’t imagine the horror of dating a sex deranged satyr.” Green raised an eye to the outstretched hand, clasping it and smirking up at Glitch, who was several inches taller than her. “I’m Green.”

“I think you owe my boyfriend an apology.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I don’t think I do.” Green sneered and tried to pull her hand away but Glitch held it vice like. Her smile turned chilly as she leaned forward just a bit and growled, her eyes flashing in a warning way, “Bitch, did I stutter? Or did I say that you owe him an apology?”

“I don’t owe him anything!”

“Ya know, nothing about you is green… I think you're more shitty than anything else.” Quicker than a whip, Glitch turned with Green’s hand still clasped in hers, and kicked the back of her legs. Green went down with an undignified yelp. Glitch had twisted back Green’s arm in an unpleasant fashion and was holding it as she squirmed. “Maybe I should call you Shit instead of Green.” Glitch snarled as Green let out a pained noise. “Now, are you going to apologize, or am I going to break your arm?”

There was as awkward pause as Green struggled in vain against the weight of Glitch, she let out a growl but snapped her head over to where Horns was still frozen, she let out another pained sound as Glitch tested her once more, bending her arm a tad more backwards then it should normally bend “H-Horns” Her voice rasped out “O-ow! Fuck! I’m fucking sorry! Fuck! I’m sorry alright?”

It was like a switch was flipped, Glitch released her grip and slunk off her and back beside Horns, twining their hands together as her eyes still watched Green. The girl pushed herself back upright, her friend rushed forward and helped her up but Green pushed her away, calling her useless. Horns felt Glitch tense up and say, “If I ever hear you say anything about him again, your arm won’t be the only thing sore.”

Green got the message because she kept her mouth shut and the two slipped out of the store quietly. Horns stood by Glitch, they were frozen for another moment even when the two were out of sight before Horns let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Damn kitten”

She glanced over to him shyly, her eyes searching his face as she assessed him. “You okay?” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper and Horns nodded, he went onto his tippy toes to kiss her forehead and murmur, “That was pretty brave of you. My heroine.”

Glitch snorted but beamed at the kiss, she looped her arm around his waist “Heroine? What am I, a drug?”

“Babe I’m addicted to you!” Horns began to sing and Glitch laughed as he continued on “Hooked on your love like a powerful drug!” She rolled her eyes as he continued to sing, going back and grabbing several pairs of underwear before checking out, linking her fingers in his once more as they made their way out the storefront together.

#larka's virus community #Hitch #Horns Khaos #Glitch Sanity #these two fucking nerds i stg will be the end of me #glitch need to chill the fuck out #ome im so sorry peony #you dont deserve this at all #also mentions of the asshat Green #but idk her last name

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