fishie: (animorphs → dreams)
pretty sure i've been spoiled by plurk; you're not supposed to post to your lj every couple hours but w h a t e v e r

GIVE ME PROMPTS, and a pairing/character/whatev, and i will write a sentence for you. as many as you want, but i don't promise they'll all get done. i'm not a machine like kia. (unsure)
fishie: (RAAAEG)
It's been a while. Reno almost forgot what it felt like to have his ass handed to him. Tseng won't let them get rusty, but sparring with Rude is a totally different circus than — this shit.

The pavement tears his skin again as he's slung across it, but the pain doesn't kick in until he's on his feet. He can't see out of one eye, and he isn't sure if there's blood in it, or if he just got hit in the head hard enough to blind him. Wouldn't that be something. He shakes it off, watching his opponent approach in leaps and bounds, like some kind of fucking gazelle or something.

A wave of dizziness rushes over him just as they clash again. Shit. The sheer force behind the silver-haired man — nothing but momentum, hardly any weight at all — is enough to knock Reno off his feet again. He stumbles into the corner of a building and ends up backing into the alleyway. Not exactly ideal, but it's not like he's trapped here, either.

Before the other man can get the jump on him, Reno turns the careening motion into a flat run. He hits the back wall of the alley and starts upward, but he doesn't get very far.

The man lands in front of him — in fucking front of him, standing on the wall like it's nobody's business. The only thing this guy gives less of a shit about than gravity is how badly Reno and Rude are gonna blow his ass up when this is over. Reno's tenuous grip on the bricks slips, and with his momentum stalled, he feels his own weight begin to sabotage his safety.

"Fuck —"

Those rough black boots take a single step toward his fingers, and he's falling.

The cold ground knocks the air out of his lungs. He struggles to get purchase on the asphalt, to get a breath before the dark floods his eyes. Too late, he inhales, his vision clears, and there those boots are again, like he never left.

There's something wrong with his arms, because he can't get them under him right now, and that's why the creepy bastard is able to just reach over and lift him off the ground by the shoulder of his jacket. He hefts Reno up and pitches him against the wall, and he's there to catch him before he slides to the ground. He pins him there with his body; the leather is cold, and Reno can feel it through the thin material of his dress shirt.

"Where's Mother?" he asks again, then, patiently. His voice is startling and deep, and it resonates through Reno's chest.

What he says next takes effort (and balls, he'd like to think). "Probably still in bed after our little romp last night. I think I wore her out."

Pain cracks through his skull, unprecedented (at least today). Reno's vision goes white for a moment. All he can hear are the roars of the beasts in the background and the screams of the city, all of it so far away.

"You think that's funny?" the silver-haired man hisses, his words a burr at the edge of Reno's consciousness. "Let's see."
fishie: (^_^)
There were, Syuusuke had found, benefits to dating a dentist - and not just dental benefits.

For starters, Eiji always, always had fresh breath. Kissing Eiji was minty-sweet and made Syuusuke's lips tingle, though he wasn't completely sure that had anything to do with minty freshness. Eiji wouldn't even kiss him in the mornings if they hadn't both brushed their teeth, which, while sometimes inconvenient, was an excellent motivator to keep Syuusuke from lazing in bed all day.

Besides that, there was the money. Syuusuke was no gold digger (contrary to popular rumour; some of his stints with Hyoutei in high school had not gone unnoticed), but it was nice to be taken care of. It meant he could focus on his photography as an art, not as a profession, and it meant vacations.

Like this one, to Costa Rica. Syuusuke wasn't as excited about it as he had been about France last year, but exotic was exotic, and Eiji was ecstatic. He hadn't stopped talking since they'd arrived at the airport in Tokyo.

"I can't believe we're actually standing in Costa Rica!" His grip on Syuusuke's arm wasn't quite painful yet. "Well, we're walking, but - Costa Rica!" He did a little hop as they entered the hotel lobby. "Think of how many pictures you can take! There's so much amazing stuff here! Oishi was here a couple years ago for an outreach program, and he said he loved it. They have all kinds of amazing animals and plants and and and beaches! And coral reefs and Oishi got to hold a sloth!"

Syuusuke laughed a little, ignoring the desk clerk's expression as he handed over their keycards. "I remember. He brought back pictures."

"And now we can bring back pictures! Better pictures!" Eiji practically wriggled, pulling Syuusuke along to the elevator. "Come on, we have to drop our luggage off and get out of here! There's way too much to do; we only have a week!"

A week did seem like a dismally short amount of time, when Syuusuke thought about the millions of breathtaking moments he'd want to capture on film. He let himself be dragged to the room and promptly back out again, stopping only to make sure he had a camera and at least three rolls of film on him.

Their first excursion was a small park inundated with birds - they shot from the trees as they passed, scattered through the undergrowth, soared ahead of them down the path and weighed down branches high above. Syuusuke learned to snap a photograph at just the flash of colour; they would sometimes vanish by the time he knew they were there, but he was sure the photos would develop magnificently. They must have been there an hour before one of Eiji's numerous exclamations finally broke through Syuusuke's zen.

"Monkeys!"

Syuusuke turned, camera still to his face, and took several more shots in the direction Eiji was pointing. When he pulled back from the viewfinder, he could see them more clearly - lanky, white-faced monkeys, looping lazily through the trees off the path. They stuck close together, peering, unbothered, at the humans in their midst.

Glancing over at Eiji, Syuusuke opened his mouth to say something and immediately forgot what it was. Eiji was watching them up there in the trees, eyes shining, the biggest, stupidest grin on his face, and something grabbed at Syuusuke's heart a little.

He turned the camera on Eiji and started snapping again. The viewfinder clicked over a series of moments - Eiji's smile trading in for a surprised look, and the second in which his head turned; his eyes, curious, and the smile that blossomed all over again, his eyes crinkling at the corners, when he saw the camera aimed at him.

Who would have thought, Syuusuke mused, that the biggest and brightest sights in Costa Rica would be the ones he'd brought with him from home?
fishie: (RAAAEG)
Hours like these were ungodly, and as far as Keigo was concerned, just shouldn't exist at all, for decency's sake. He couldn't begin to understand how Gen'ichirou was awake and presentable this early in the morning. Keigo was a (very fashionable) zombie.

He only tripped once on his way into the kitchen, and didn't bother looking around to see if anyone had noticed. No one else was awake who mattered. (Gen'ichirou didn't matter - he was clumsier than Keigo was.) Catching the doorframe with one hand, he leaned around the corner and eyed Gen'ichirou's back sleepily.

He was humming - not altogether out of tune, but badly enough to make Keigo smile a little - and fussing with something in front of him. Keigo had to guess it was a cup of coffee, since it smelled like gorgeous French roast in there. He didn't even think twice about it until Gen'ichirou swore under his breath and pulled his hand from in front of him, holding it away and over the sink.

Keigo's eyes leisurely followed the length of his statuesque arm to his fingers, at which point Keigo's jaw did the most inelegant thing, and completely without permission, too. Mouth hanging wide open, he watched as an unmistakably viscous substance dripped from Gen'ichirou's fingers.

That couldn't possibly be... but it was, wasn't it? It had to be. But there was so much of it! When Gen'ichirou sidestepped closer to the sink, Keigo had to cover his mouth. The counter was drizzled in it, too.

Was this why Gen'ichirou spent so much time in the kitchen?

Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse (read: better), Gen'ichirou put the icing on the cake (figuratively, mind). He lifted his stickied hand to his mouth and licked his fingers.

"Sandy!" There went his mouth again, doing things without permission. Gen'ichirou looked over his shoulder, startled.

"Oh, you're awake? I was going to bring you coffee." Gen'ichirou seemed to consider his hand, then something on the counter in front of him. "Come here and try this new creamer. It's... actually really good."

Keigo spent a moment trying to decide if 'creamer' was a euphemism, like his 'prowess' or Sengoku's 'good luck charm.' (He still regretted asking about that.) Slowly, he came forward, equal parts intrigued and appalled (his excellent breeding required it). Gen'ichirou held out his hand expectantly, looking for all the world like this was completely and totally in the realm of acceptable kitchen behaviour.

Euphemism or not, Keigo decided, it was nothing he'd objected to having in his mouth before. Tentatively, he leaned forward, mouth open, to taste the fluid. It was bizarrely sweet, and a little nutty. Keigo's brow knit.

"That's... delicious," he admitted, wiping a touch of it from his lip.


As he turned on his heel to start back upstairs, Yukimura vowed never to get out of bed before ten in the morning again.

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Cassie ★

February 2016

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