empathability.

Open curtains | Closed blinds Stray dog | House cat People | Pets Outside | Inside Half-empty | Half-full TV | Radio Sing | Dance Shoes | Sandals Cash | Credit Hike | Drive Casual | Elegant Center | Corner Sword | Shield Airplane | Boat Fizzy | Flat Garnished | Plain Extra salt | Extra pepper Spicy | Mild Record player | Digital media Opaque | Transparent White lies | Complete truth Blunt | Subtle Noisy | Silent Books | Music Familiar | New Youth | Experience Spoon | Fork and knife Knife | Baseball bat Space | Ocean Bow and arrow | Blow dart Love at first sight | Slow burn Freckles | Dimples Long eyelashes | Long fingers  Soft lips | Sensitive neck Stubble | Thick hair Slow dance | Intimate conversation Candlelight dinner | Stargazing

tagged by: @theagentlooker

BLITHE SMILE! Thank YOU for expanding my vocabulary because I really do need it. :’)

It’s actually referenced from this screencap of The Little Mermaid which is a very good meme love these drawn expressions great inspo 10/10

…

“…?”

“sᏢᎪᏟᎬ mᎾmmᎪ! hᎬhᎬ-Ꭵ ᏞᎥᏦᎬ ᏆhᎥs ᎶᎪmᎬ! Ꭵ ᎳᎥᏁ?? Ꭵ ᎶuᎬssᎬᎠ ᎽᎾuᏒ ᏁᎪmᎬ ᏒᎥᎶhᏆ!”

“Y-Yes! Yes you did!! Space Momma was wondering where the pure little star cloud was!”

Anabel most definitely pretended not to hear that. Noooooooooooo worries my bro B’D

Oh god. With fingers quickly lacing around his purple tie, her grip felt tight as she yanked his head down with some help of the garment  - it wasn’t quite enough to disrupt his breathing, but the sudden action certainly caused his breathing to hitch. It was almost as if he could feel his ears heat up, with some help from that firm hold of his tie, and now that his face was so close to hers.

It certainly cracked that hardboiled facade of his, a genuine look of surprise spreading across his features for a fleeting moment, mixing together with a brief flash of something more as her almost burning glare met with his own. Did she even know what she did to him? She must at least have had some kind of inkling, Looker silently mused to himself as he met the dagger-like gaze she was throwing at him, because as much as he did his best to be professional in his encounters Looker still suffered from the unfortunate habit of occasionally wearing his heart on his sleeve. He really did his best to keep it bottled up, but there was still a warm flicker in his soul whenever they were together. Even when it was because of something as ridiculous as this - what were they even playfully arguing about? How good they were at owning a ghost doll?

Attempting to not swallow too loudly, as the fabric pulled against the skin of his neck, it took a moment for his to regain his earlier composure. His previous slight smirk returned, eyebrows now deeply furrowed as he challenged her radiating gaze with his own, more steel-like.

❝Perfect, I would not like to have it any other way. Let us get this out of the way as soon as possible, hm? Things need to be settled, once and for all,❞ answered Looker with a hum, refusing to break eye contact. ❝Not that we will find anything, no. The one thing this will prove is that expect for the occasional ghost type pokémon, there is nothing odd going on— and that you, my dear Chief, fear the hypothetical paranormal.❞

                                                      ❝I accept.❞

And readable like a book he was. Even if it only lasted a moment, there was something so sweetly satisfying to see his proud expression crumble with a single swoop-- despite the strange subtle glimmer in his eyes before he, of course, returned to that terrible smirk.

So she gave one last tug (a warning-- just because she wants to) on his tie before releasing him from her grip. His face was too close anyways. Far too close. Would be nice if someone turned down the office’s heating system.

        “Good.” Was all she said. She turned on her heel and walked off practically seething for the rest of the day. Sooner or later she will burn out and possibly realize, like a grown adult, that this endeavor was not worth one of her few days off from the agency.

Unfortunately, war never changes.

Vivid oranges and red leaves danced in the breeze, the sun descended over the horizon, and the oh-so-cliche old century chateau of Kalos Route 14 had ever growing, looming shadow. ‘A look into History!’ some placard boasted, ‘Built in 1808, this marble of a house was owned by...’ It goes on and on, interrupted most rudely by ‘Haunted Tour’ ticket prices and a clearly bolded ‘No Rotom allowed’ symbol. All in all, an average historical marker at first glance-- but the endless collection of paranormal sightings (’Actual human apparition! NOT FAKE!! NO GHOST POKEMON PRESENT!!’) was the true pull of the location.

And as she stood in front of the location, shivering slightly despite being under a classy black winter jacket, all the lavender Chief could feel was the intense amount of regret.

‘Why am I doing this.’ Gods, a cup of coffee would have been wonderful and relaxing. ‘Why am I doing this.’ Was there really something that she had to prove if the situation was merely as hypothetical as horror movie demons? ‘Why am I doing this.’ This was absolutely the most childish thing she ever participated in. What they were both participating in. There was still a chance to turn back--

“Well,” She shot a glance towards her competitor in a contest of who knows what at this point, “Here it is; where people have been almost shoved down stairs and the doors close on their own. Who knows-- I could get you a nice little souvenir once we finally end this.”

“MARRIED?!” 

What. Where. When. And most importantly, why was this in his train of thought? Nevertheless, she counted her blessings. She only had to explain that she’s not getting married rather than having to explain why she gave the peck on the cheek.

“I’m not getting married! Why would anyone spread that rumor about me?!”

It was Martin from HR, wasn’t it.

For a brief and extremely fleeting second, Looker thought that he had won. In hindsight is was a ridiculous assumption, especially due to the fact that this was that Chief he was dealing with; an easy defeat was out of the question, as likely as that he’d ever have the winning ticket in the national lottery, or that he’d be the one in charge for the entire International Police by tomorrow morning. Unlikely, ridiculous, and frankly an idea worthy to laugh at. Once she begun prodding his chest, and with that begun forming actual sentences, one thing was for certain: this would be a long, rough, and ugly battle.

The hurt glance almost got him. How her expression shifted from one of extreme pride, glaring at him as if her gaze could tear a hole in his chest (and sometimes, he would swear that it could), to such a vulnerable and hurt one made his heart feel as if it was about to stop in that very second. It was a clever ruse to make him admit defeat, he had to admit that to himself, both those thought weren’t ones he wanted to leave out in the open for his boss to hear. She didn’t need to know that she almost had him, up until the very second that devilish grin spread across her features.

Taking a step closer, much like as if he was challenging her space, Looker simply cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her and her thinly veiled suggestion regarding haunted houses. In an attempt to not reveal his feelings of the subject to her, Looker tried to maintain as much of a stone-faced expression as he could muster, attempting to channel every ounce of the trope of being a hardboiled detective as he could (sour expression included), the man shrugged at her.

❝It depends, I suppose, my dear Chief— are you speaking of the ones located in amusement parks, or the more, shall we say, real-life based ones?❞ he replied, in a low voice that almost was tiptoeing the line of purring. ❝In any case; what are you proposing?❞

No matter what it was, he reasoned to himself as he stood closely to her, looking down on her devilish grin, Looker would take it.

                                  He wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

Dear Gods, he just kept raising the bar further and further.

No matter what she did, no matter what voice she spoke in, no matter what ever sort of expression she could come up with, this man was assembled like a brick wall.

All while Anabel threatened to crack like an egg.

She would typically walk away from any normal rude invasion of personal space from a stranger, but she stood her ground half out of pure stubborn spite and the other half out of him already allowed this level of closeness. As if. She should shove him away then and there to teach his smug face a lesson he would never forget.

But ohh, came the borderline sultry voice that made her blood run hot. The Chief could just pull back and sock him in the face right there if she was not busy screaming at herself internally. More unfortunate thoughts-- A flock of Beautifly in her stomach. Knees weak. Arms could be compared to a form of pasta. He had absolutely no business weaponizing his built-in charm that comes with the codename. She should not be falling so hard for it either. 

Damn this man.

Her hand quickly grabbed at his tie and yanked (Softly! Don’t want to hurt the demon shield too much, now) him down to bring his face sort of close to hers. Lavender eyes that avoided his stone-cold gaze momentarily now glared flaming daggers straight into his.

“A real haunting.” A lower pitch than usual. Smooth yet furious. “We’ll go in, investigate, find any malevolent spiritual activity. And then we’ll see who’s truly capable of owning a ghost doll.”

How dared she use sad puppy-eyes at him as a way to break down his defenses, and to crank it up in such a way! It was frankly offensive, Looker huffed quietly to himself, around equally as offensive as the maneuver happened to be effective. Had she kept on going along that particular tactic then he would’ve been done, capitulating in mere moments to welcome the idea of his office suddenly being filled with as many creepy dolls as the Chief wanted. He should have been counting his lucky stars that her expression quickly changed, mirroring his rather smug smirk perfectly – while effective in its own way, at least he could manage. That sad puppy-eyed stare was a powerful weapon on its own; perhaps it would be for the best if the Chief never found out just how effective it actually was.

The sudden boop on his nose broke him out of his rambling inner monologue. Blinking in sheer surprise, once, twice, three times, he did his best to regain his composure as quickly as he possibly could. His grin had only faltered for a brief (but yet most likely noticeable) moment, before it returned, growing even stronger than before. If this was the game she wanted to play, he was on board with it.

❝It feels rude to call you out like this, Chief, but— I see exactly what threads you are attempting to pull at, yes!❞ he replied, the grin ever so present across his features as he looked up at her intensively, not yet backing down. With a eyebrow raised, it was almost as if he was challenging her. ❝Why would I fear a doll? It simply seems unnecessary, seeing how such a thing do not exist. Still! If you are so terribly set on it, I would be willing to negotiate shared custody with you of such an artifact.❞

Of course something like that didn’t exist, not unless some poor soul was attempting to pawn off a banette through an ad in the paper. In any case, it wouldn’t live up to the horror film-level of a scenario.

❝Do you even think i would notice, say, a hypothetical poltergeist roaming around my office, chief? No, the supernatural is not something that I happen to fear, pfwah! Tell me the truth, Chief— are you attempting to give me such a thing, simply so you can watch the possible spectacle from a safe distance, without having to bite the sour apple? Just know, you should not be embarrassed if you are afraid of having such a thing for yourself.❞

Stunned. All she could do was be stunned. (Flinch? Paralysis?)

Was she expecting him to give in that easily to her teasing? Had she truly forgotten at that moment that he could match up to the same level as herself? No-- No, of course he could, of course he’s not going down without a fight, why on Earth did it still leave her agape and blinking dumbly back at the man before her. 

A noise. That must have been an attempt at human communication, to form a sentence. “I’m. Uhp-- Hm--” Take your time. If this was hot potato, it’s practically searing her hands at this moment. All the thoughts rumbled in her brain like a thunderstorm: so many ‘How dare him’s and ‘Think clearly’s. 

“Are you suggesting that I’m frightened? Over a doll?” Her finger prodded his chest with the emphasized words. The hand was brought back, laid on her own chest now in a haughty pose, staring back with a prideful glare. “I’m just giving a hypothetical gift-- You seem to be the one who doesn’t want it! And you--”

She looked sooooooooooooooo hurt.

“--Are throwing accusations at your superior.” Defensive. So defensive. She crossed her arms and her cheeks were flushing slightly. But slowly, a devilish grin swept crawled up her face as Nasty Plot took into effect. Oh hohoh yes. She will win for sure.

 “... Tell you what.” Almost sing-song in tone, “We could settle who’s truly afraid of ghosts during this month in the most perfect way.”

      The woman acted like Plumeria was going to clock her. Which, granted, was not yet off the table–Plumeria was usually at least somewhat ready to start a physical altercation–but for Arceus’ sake, she had just come out of the water and was holding her infant son. It wasn’t like she was going to start a fistfight right here on the beach like some puffed-up college boy.        There came a slight shake of her head and a rolling of yellow eyes from the admin. That was, until Anabel showed the first signs of sincerety in showing interest in her Skrelp, thereby pulling a rare, genuine smile from Plumeria in kind.          “His name’s Seabean,” she replied in a voice brimming with pride. “They ain’t local, nah–I found him some months back on a boat trip badly injured. He’s a little slow on the uptake and he’s takin’ longer for train than most, but he’s gettin’ better every day–these beach trips really help. Think some useless Kalosian haole fuck prob'ly dumped ‘im outta impatience.” Disapproval in the sucking of teeth that followed.          “You like hold him while I get my shit together?” Without waiting for a response, Plumeria pushed him into Anabel’s arms, then darted off to the side where lay her boots and bag. Proper hiking boots and socks, rather than just the rubber slippers worn by many beachgoers–she had been anticipating a walk. Despite the sensible footwear, she only withdrew an enormous band tee from her bag to slip over her bikini tank and shorts, then hoisted the drawstring satchel onto her shoulders by its straps.       “You ready?” It became quickly apparent that she was speaking to the Toxapex and not Anabel, waiting for a confirmation before returning the creature to her Ultra Ball. Seabean ( very docile and pleasant in the arms of someone new ) was then regained also and jiggled lightly against her shoulder as she gestured for Anabel to follow. No acknowledgement of her apology.

To no one’s surprise, Anabel stammered incoherently as the baby sea dragon was thrusted into her arms. The admin pulled of an excellent trick; the Chief certainly shut up as she focused on adjusting the way she cradled the Pokemon, fearing any possibility that she could drop such a fragile and innocent creature.

The agent softened up to the Skrelp so quickly that she barely noticed Plumeria darting off to collect her belongings. Oh my goodness, she could just melt right then and there.

“Hello there, little one...!” She cooed as she kept a safe, firm hold. Though her voice was hushed, the higher pitch baby-voice tone was noticeable. “You are so cute...! Who’s mean enough to leave a sweetie like you all alone? Tsk...”

She immediately broke from that spell at the sound of the admin’s approaching footsteps. Like a spooked Deerling, her head snapped right back up to face her directly. Any attempts at a sentence were cut short as the Skrelp was taken back to its owners arms. Oh. Right. No more coddling...

Standing there like a scarecrow was not helping her situation. The ability to walk was regained as Anabel followed Plumeria’s signals.

“Hmm? Huh? Yes?”

“Are you catching a slight cold, Mr. Looker? Please get some rest.”

No.

No no.

Nah no no no NAH no no NO no no SHOOSH.

I really do apologize for getting worked up as I did on the last post, and making it a public outburst in general. I should not do that-- It clutters your dashboard with unnecessary drama on my part.

But please don’t stalk artists for the hopes of them drawing that specific thing you want or in general. They’ll know and they’ll be completely uneasy about it. It’s not cool and it sucks the fun out of their hobbies. Maybe my message will finally become clear to this one person; maybe not. It’s out there now.

DIOS MIO, ANON...!

DIOS MIO! T-THANK YOU SO MUCH! <3<3<3