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sneakyparsnipslicer · 1 year ago

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The Disappearance of Bobby Krauser

[Another transformation story, I've been having a lot of ideas, so there could still be a lot more stories coming in the following days]

Today might have just been the worst day for Bobby, certainly the worst for a good while. The day had started like any working morning did. Alarm went off at 4am, went to his kitchen to make a coffee, sort out his backpack with food and tools he'd need for the 12 hour shift. He'd been in this routine for 2 and a half years, work was at a factory that made food products for some Belgium-based brand. 48 hours a week he worked per block, four days on, four days off. The pay was good too, even though he was still a temp worker after so long. He'd managed to finally move out of his mother's house at the age of 27 thanks to the money he was earning from the constant work. In many ways it had made his life better, but as a side effect it had made him into a bit of a workaholic.

Bobby had gone to work, same as usual, started working in his section of the factory at 6am, his job was to watch the conveyor belts and set the machines right if something went wrong and the alarms sounded, like a carton getting stuck on a diverter or a cardboard box not being taken off the pile correctly. It was easy since he'd learned all there was to know about the job. Only trouble was he'd tried applying for a full time job over the past year, three times.

During his first work break he sat in the canteen, he was approached by one of his co-workers Kyle. 'Morning Bobby, how are things?' Kyle asked. 'Hey Kyle, I'm good thanks, what's up?' Bobby asked, looking up from his phone. 'So I know you've been wanting that machine operator job for a while now' Kyle began. 'Only for about a year now mate' Bobby chuckled. 'Yeah, see I told a friend of mine about the job… and they've taken him on' said Kyle. Bobby's smile fell at the mention of this. He looked at Kyle. 'I'm really sorry Bobby' stammered Kyle. Bobby sighed and shook his head. 'That's fine I guess, I've only been passed over 3 fucking times now' said Bobby passive-aggressively, looking to his phone. 'Look man, my friend really needed a job and I mentioned it to him' said Kyle nervously. 'And that's fine, really. I'd probably have done the same. Well I can't really do anything about it now can I, this has to be fine' grumbled Bobby, not making eye contact with Kyle. Kyle looked down sheepishly. 'Anyway, I've gotta go. See you around' said Kyle hopefully. Bobby waved his hand and watched Kyle as he left. Bobby sat back in his chair and sighed. 'Fucking hell' he breathed, looking at the ceiling. He looked over at the clock and saw he was needed back in the factory in the next 5 minutes. He packed his stuff up, washed his hands and returned to the factory. The rest of the shift went as average as it could be, around 3pm his team leader, Luke entered the factory and asked Bobby to come with him to one of the meeting rooms. In the room was one of the ladies from the agency he worked for. Bobby and his team leader sat down.

'Right, Bobby. Long story short, we're letting you go' started Luke. Bobby's face sank. 'Why?' asked Bobby, sitting up in his chair. 'We've come to realise you're not happy here' said Luke. 'Luke, I've been here 2 and a half years, I've never been late, if I didn't like it here I'd have found work elsewhere long ago' said Bobby firmly. 'We've also had another applicant for the job you applied for and we've got a really good feeling about him' stated Luke matter-of-factly. 'So you're just going to throw 2 year's training down the toilet for some guy off the street?' asked Bobby, trying not to get over-infuriated. 'Bobby, we're grateful for all you've done for us, but we just don't need you anymore. You can leave straight away, we'll give you a week's pay' said Luke. Bobby looked to the agency lady and back to Luke. This was unbelievable. 'Well can I at least finish my shift today, we clock out in 3 hours and I'd hate to leave my team in the lurch' said Bobby. 'No Bobby, you can leave right now' said Luke firmly. Bobby got the hint, they really were kicking him out the door. 'Susan here will help you find other work, I'm sure you'll be fine at your mother's for now' said Luke. 'I moved out of my Mum's 2 years ago Luke, how do you not know this? You're leaving me in a flat with no secure job future' argued Bobby. 'Oh… well, you'll find something better' said Luke. Bobby rolled his eyes. 'Well, guess I'd better go get my things from the locker room then' said Bobby, getting out of his chair and leaving the room. On his way to signing out, he saw Kyle and decided to busy himself with the clocking machine. 'Bobby, I just heard, I'm really sorry' said Kyle. Bobby looked to Kyle, he really wanted to say what he thought of him, but shook his head. 'It's alright, I just hope your friend's as good as everyone's making him out to be' said Bobby. 'But it's just you have your flat and all' said Kyle. 'And the agency will find me other work, don't worry about me Kyle. That's my job now' said Bobby, and he proceeded to leave the factory building. On his way home he checked his phone, a few of the other factory workers had caught wind of what happened and had messaged him on Facebook. It cheered him up, being asked to keep in touch and them passing on their anger about how Bobby had been handled. But he put his phone away, he needed to do something about this predicament.

Arriving home his first thought was to fire up his computer and print off some CVs, then head into town and look for work. So he put the kettle on and got to work on doing that. He popped a handful in his backpack and headed into town. It was funny, his work life had just vanished, 4 hours ago he had a job, and now here he was keeping an eye out for shop windows that said 'Staff Wanted'. Maybe he could've just gone online and saved some trouble but he just needed some fresh air to clear his head. He stopped by a few shops and supermarkets, those that would accept CVs got one, but most places told him to apply online. It really was a sign of the times, back when he'd started his work career it felt a lot more normal to meet someone in person at a shop and hand them a CV. Approaching one alleyway, he came across a small building that used to be a café that he used to frequent before it shut down about a year ago. The windows were darkened and a sign above it read 'Enrique's Escapist Emporium'. Bobby reckoned this place can't have been open all that long, but there was a 'Staff Wanted' sign on the door and the sign said 'Open' so he shrugged his shoulders. Why not.

Walking inside, he heard a small bell ring as he opened the door. The room beyond was dimly lit, and he could faintly hear a radio playing near where the serving counter was. Squinting, Bobby could see someone sitting there and began to make his way over. The person sitting at the counter was caught up in a crossword, funnily they looked as if they belonged to a gym more than a dainty little shop. They put down their reading glasses and crossword and smiled at Bobby. 'Good afternoon, how can I help you?' they asked. 'Uh, hi. My name is Bob, and I'm looking for a job' said Bobby, smiling. The guy smiled and chuckled. 'Well if that's not the most Quentin Tarantino thing I've heard all day' the guy remarked. 'Have you got a CV on you, Bob?'. Bobby paused for a moment and then took off his backpack, rummaging through it and handing one to the man. Who took it and looked. 'Bobby Krauser' said the man, reading the top of the paper. 'Oh yeah, that's me' said Bobby. It was strange, this person seemed well-mannered and decent, but something was making him feel nervous. Maybe it was the lack of light in the room. 'Have a seat please, Bobby' said the man, gesturing to a small wooden chair. Bobby took a seat and waited in anticipation. 'Oh please, make yourself comfortable. I'll begin your interview shortly' said the man. Bobby took off his backpack and coat and tried to calm his nerves.

'Tell me about yourself then Bobby, you from around here?' the man asked. 'Oh yeah, I was born at the hospital on the other side of town' said Bobby. The man smiled and nodded. 'And you're… 28, 29 maybe?' he asked. 'Yeah, 29. Reaching the big 30 next year' said Bobby, chuckling. The man looked at him and smiled. 'So, you've been a cleaner, a kitchen assistant and a factory worker then?' asked the man. Bobby nodded. 'Oh I also worked at a game shop for a few months, so I did retail for a while' added Bobby. The man nodded and placed the paper down, putting his hands together and taking a good look at Bobby. 'So then Bobby, do you have any questions for me?' he asked. 'Uh, well is your name Enrique? It's just I know the shop sign says Enrique's Escapist Emporium' said Bobby, pointing to the front door. 'Yes that's correct' Enrique smiled. 'Ah, have you had this place long?' Bobby asked. 'We opened a couple of weeks ago, moved from up country but I rarely stay in one place' Enrique answered. 'I see. So what is it you do here exactly?' asked Bobby. 'Here we sell whatever the customer wants' said Enrique vaguely. Bobby looked on confused. 'That seems to be a broad range then' chuckled Bobby nervously. Enrique shook his head. 'Not at all. May I ask you a question, Bobby?' asked Enrique. Bobby thought for a moment. 'Sure, go ahead' said Bobby. 'What do you want?' Enrique asked calmly. 'Well I want a job if you've got one going' replied Bobby, shrugging his shoulders. Enrique chuckled softly. 'I like you Bobby, you're funny. I mean what do you really want, out of life?' he asked. Bobby thought for a moment. 'Take your time' said Enrique reassuringly. 'I… I want to be happy again' said Bobby, looking to the ground. This response made Enrique raise his eyebrows. 'How do you mean, Bobby?' asked Enrique.

'Well, I think in recent years I've become a bit cranky. My last job just let me go a few hours ago. I moved out of my Mum's after years of her telling me I needed to get a proper job, then I needed to get myself a place to live. I just wasted 2 and a half years as a temp worker at a factory, my friends that I have tell me I've become passive-aggressive. I've got a lot going on in life and… I just wish I could be happy, like I was back in school' Bobby lamented. Enrique looked at him sadly. 'Well from what I've seen Bobby, you're funny, friendly and kind-spirited' smiled Enrique. Bobby smiled. 'Thanks Enrique, but you've only just met me. I was here to make a good first impression' said Bobby. 'But you've been genuine. I can tell you've been through a lot, but you seem to bottle that away well' said Enrique observantly. 'So do I qualify to work here then' asked Bobby, trying to bring the conversation back around to the reason he came in. 'I suppose I could take you on, but I feel you're more in need of your happiness first' said Enrique, standing up. Bobby came to realise that Enrique was a pretty tall guy, easily 6'3, towering over his standing height at 5'2. Bobby had the chance to see he had a very muscular build, biceps and triceps galore, he wondered for a moment if Enrique had to turn sideways to get through the front door when he entered the shop. Enrique walked off to the back room, Bobby could hear him rummaging through the shelves. He wondered if he should get out of there, he began to feel nervous again. Their conversation had gone unexpectedly deep. What exactly did Enrique mean by 'giving him his happiness'.

Enrique returned with a small box. 'Sorry to have kept you waiting Bobby, it's still pretty cluttered back there' Enrique chuckled. He placed the box on the counter and sat back down. Bobby and Enrique looked at the box, then Bobby looked to Enrique who was looking at Bobby searchingly. 'Bobby, I'm going to give you a choice and I really want you to think hard about this' warned Enrique. Bobby nodded nervously. Enrique sighed and began. 'Think of this as Pandora's Box, Bobby. Your happiness lies within it, however it comes with a price' said Enrique. 'Oh, just let me get my wallet-' began Bobby jokingly, but Enrique shook his head. 'Bobby, for the short time I've known you, you strike me as a lovely, wonderful person. You are probably loved and cared for by so many people. Even if you don't see it yourself, there are those that genuinely care for you. You open this box and Bobby Krauser ceases to exist. You'll become someone new, you might be happier, but you won't be beloved Bobby anymore' said Enrique ominously. Bobby looked to the box, then back to Enrique. 'And what's the other choice Enrique' asked Bobby, sweating nervously. 'You remain Bobby and continue as Bobby. You may even work here and travel as Bobby. The choice is yours'

Bobby considered his options, a fresh start at life as someone else. He could leave his old life behind, leave everything and everyone he knew. He'd sometimes thought about how if he'd died, he'd love to know who would mourn him. But on the other hand, him actually vanishing would make that thought a reality and he thought of his family, his friends near and far. The alternative was to live as himself and just pray that life magically got better over time. Bobby looked at the box, looked to Enrique and placed his hand on the box. Enrique sighed sadly but nodded in acceptance. 'Very well then, you'd better open the box' said Enrique. Bobby curiously lifted the lid and peered inside. There was a single, dusty purple bottle with a cork in the top. He picked it up, there was no label on it. He looked back to Enrique. 'What is this Enrique?' Bobby asked. Enrique folded his arms and looked to it sadly. 'It's a gel, it'll help you become who you're going to be' said Enrique. He stood up and went to the front door, turning the sign to say 'Closed' and locked the door. 'You'd better come to the back room' Enrique said. Bobby stood up and followed Enrique.

Inside the backroom was a bizarre sight. There were shrines lining the walls with pictures of various nameless people, surrounded by candles and garments that presumably belonged to the framed people. 'People come here seeking escapism, Bobby. Much like yourself. They may not wish to be remembered, but I never forget them' said Enrique, looking around. 'So, when do I stop being me?' Bobby asked. 'That bottle. Remove your clothes and rub it's contents all over your body' said Enrique. Bobby shrugged and did as he was told, removing his shoes, socks, trousers and t-shirt. He opened the bottle and began to rub it's contents all over him. Soon he was all lubed up and glistening in the candle light. He turned to Enrique who had also removed his clothes and gelled himself up. They both looked at each other for a moment. 'Such a beautiful soul. Farewell Bobby Krauser' said Enrique. Bobby looked at him confused. The next thing Bobby knew, Enrique's big, slimy hands grabbed his jaw and prised his mouth open. He moved his right hand into Bobby's mouth and pushed down, to Bobby's surprise, his neck began to expand as Enrique's fist and forearm slid down into his chest. Bobby's knees buckled and he was kneeling on the floor before the giant man. Bobby looked into Enrique's eyes as he placed his left arm into the gaping void that was now Bobby's mouth. The sound of stretching elastic filled the room as Enrique raised a foot and lowered it into Bobby's mouth. The foot and leg snaked down, to fill out Bobby's skinnier leg, making it bloat out three times it's previous size. Bobby was amazed, this was a crazy way to go out. But if he was going to become Enrique, he just knew he was going to love it. Enrique lifted his second leg into Bobby's mouth and moved him around to align with his own body. By now Bobby's feet and legs were darkening, expanding and squeaking, becoming massive. Bobby already had Size 11 feet, but with Enrique invading them, they shot to a ridiculous 18. His legs thickened like tree trunks and Enrique began to pull Bobby's body upwards. As Enrique continued to slide into Bobby's body, everything just got bigger. Bobby's relatively flat ass become like two big watermelons and his already six inch dick became an absolute monster of a serpent with two basketballs hanging below it. His belly compressed against Enrique's impressive washboard abs and his arms became enormous. By now Enrique was nearly entirely inside Bobby, all that was left was to match up the chin and lift his head over his, completing the transformation. Enrique stood in the middle of the room, huffing and panting, an absolute hulk of a man. Skin still bubbling and contorting, Enrique grabbed his dick and began jacking it hard. Picturing Bobby's kind face in his mind, he roared the most animalistic roar as he shot a huge load worthy of several giants. The cum pooled on the floor and began to shape as a new form emerged. A new man was birthed from the warm sludge, he stirred and gasped as he took his first breaths. Enrique stood against the wall panting and sweating as the new man began to explore his tanned body. He was a bit more built than Bobby had been, dare he say even more handsome. The man's eyes were bright with new excitement and amazement. He looked at Enrique, who was starting to look more like how he did before he slipped into Bobby and gave him a hug.

'Enrique, thank you, thank you so much' he cried. Enrique smiled. 'Here is your happiness, as promised' Enrique said. The man smiled at Enrique. 'I think from this day forward I'll go by Gabriel. Always liked that name' said Gabriel. 'Well Gabriel, the world's yours now. Be who you want to be. Go start your new life' said Enrique. He found some clothes out for Gabriel and put back on his own clothes. They both left the backroom and Enrique unlocked the shop door for him. Gabriel felt the wind on his new face and sighed with contentment. He sauntered off and Enrique returned to his shop. He looked to the counter and saw Bobby's backpack and coat. He sighed and picked them up, looking towards the back room. They were mementos now, belonging to a man that no longer existed.

A few months have passed since the strange disappearence of Mr. Bobby Krauser. Many have suspected suicide, but no body can be found. Those that remember him hope that he may one day return and remember the best of times they can recall with him. Police managed to find his phone inside an old and long-abandoned café shop that closed a year ago, why it was there is a mystery, though no other leads can be found in this investigation. It has been discovered that Mr. Krauser's bank account had been emptied around 7pm the day he lost his job at a cashpoint within his hometown. It is unknown where Mr. Krauser went following his unjustified suspension from his previous job, but if he's out there still, we hope he has found peace. -DCI G. K. Ralser

#transformation #bodysuit #rebirth #giant #male transformation #male tf #racial change

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magicshopaholic · 2 years ago

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Unfinished Business (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: You hate leaving things unfinished - something Jungkook knows a thing or two about.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Fluff, angst (but not the kind you think)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5.4 K

Warnings: language, tattoos and needles, a lot of ambiguity

A/N: Writing for the OG couple after a long while. Highly recommended reading (or re-reading) The Fifth Part 1 and 2, or at least Part 2 for sure. Contains a lot of references to the past. Takes place post-military enlistment, a few months after Honey.

Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive @kflixnet (italics cannot be tagged. If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask)

Listen to: "suspicious minds" by elvis presley

jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

It’s only seven am, but Lia’s focus has already been stolen.

Clutching a cup of hot coffee and dressed in nothing but Jungkook’s t-shirt, she leans against the kitchen doorway of his new apartment, pensively surveying the last remaining boxes that need to be unpacked. They aren’t too big; all the major work was done yesterday, including unwrapping, decorating and cleaning up. The three cartons left in the corner of the living room, one of them marked Fragile, can’t take too much time or effort.

But Lia can’t handle things left unfinished.

Draining her cup, she places it on the kitchen mantle and retrieves a pair of scissors, getting to work. The first box is living room utilities; a key holder, fridge magnets, a few chargers. She moves them all to their correct locations, trying to make as little noise as possible so as to not wake Jungkook.

A lot of the heavy lifting yesterday had been done by him; even though he’d seemed to enjoy it, he’d been exhausted by the end of the night. As determined as he’d still been, by the end Lia could tell his energy was declining, especially as his hints to get her to move in with him began becoming less and less subtle.

She’s rummaging through the second box, filled mostly with other knick knacks, when Jungkook emerges from the bedroom, squinting sleepily and pulling on a t-shirt.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, voice thick with sleep. He clears his throat.

“It’s no problem,” she replies absently, glancing up at him. “There’s coffee in the machine.”

The sound of his feet padding into the kitchen fades away slightly as she continues unpacking. The second box has only the dregs of a bachelor’s past in it, including a remote that seems to belong to nothing and a half-empty box of condoms. Deciding to let Jungkook deal with it, she reaches for the last box just as he joins her on the floor.

“Okay, I don’t know where to place these,” she tells him, gesturing to the carefully bubble-wrapped photo frames. “I mean, I can try, but -” She scans the entertainment unit around the television, noting space for at least eight or ten frames. “This seems like something you should decide.”

“You can, too,” he offers, picking out a frame and unwrapping it. “Half the pictures are of you,” he points out, flashing her a toothy grin.

“They’re with me, not of me,” she corrects him, even as she takes the frame from him and admires the picture. It’s of them seated on the edge of a go-kart, in racing overalls and with breathless grins. “This was a fun day.”

“Yeah. The cars were faster than I expected.” Jungkook is quiet for a moment before placing the picture down and tilting his head towards the box. “How many are there in total? I’m not even sure all of them will fit.”

“Sure they will.” Lia drags the box closer and they begin unwrapping the pictures one by one, the memories making them chuckle occasionally. Despite the fact that a large number of them don’t include her, it’s strangely endearing to view glimpses of Jungkook’s youth, his friends and his success.

“This one should go right in the middle,” he decides, holding up a framed picture of the day he’d taken Lia home to meet his parents for the first time. Jungkook had dragged her to the centre of the group, his parents on either side of them, and his brother behind them right after he’d set the timer on the camera.

“It’s cute,” she agrees, “but shouldn’t you put this one up there, too?” she asks, holding up a picture of him with his group members. “Wasn’t this your first award?”

“Oh, yeah…”

“There’s probably space for both.”

“What about this one, though? This was in Wembley…”

They continue debating between what must be at least fifteen frames, eventually standing up to start arranging them on the shelf.

“Wait, you want to do them all now?” he asks a bit incredulously, eyes wide.

“It’s not that many, Kook,” she tells him, patting his shoulder encouragingly. “We’ve unpacked everything else - do you really want just one box to lie around in the living room?”

“I don’t mind.”

“Really.”

“Let me say that differently: I don’t mind.”

Lia struggles to suppress a smile at his cheeky response and picks up another handful of frames from the box, moving to the shelf. “You got me. I don’t like loose ends. Now can we do this? Come on, you’ve always said you wanted one of these in your living room,” she reminds him. “You finally have it.”

Jungkook sighs dramatically but joins her, for she’s not wrong, and picks up a picture of himself and Namjoon at the United Nations. “Okay, let’s see…” Filled with concentration, he scours the shelf and finally picks a spot near the top. “There,” he says, carefully placing it at an angle and turning around with a flourish. “Okay, what’s next?”

She chuckles and hands him a picture of BTS on stage, and they get back to work. Eight more carefully arranged pictures later, both of them stand back to admire their handiwork.

Lia nudges his side gently. “It looks good, don’t you think?”

“It does… but I’d imagined a lot more pictures, to be honest.” He looks down at her inquiringly. “We have more, right?”

“At least ten,” she assures him. “Any particular events you want to put up? People or birthdays or anything…?” She rummages through the box and retrieves a few more frames, moving to arrange them on the sofa so they can both look at them.

“This one for sure,” says Jungkook after a moment, pointing at a picture of himself and a couple of his band members. “It was after Coachella - such a fun night. This one, with you in Incheon,” he adds, like it’s obvious. “This one, backstage.”

“Was it a special concert?”

“No, but I think I look good in it,” he admits sheepishly. “Or is that too conceited? You know what, forget I said -”

“I agree, completely,” she interrupts him seriously, swiping the picture up from under his nose and placing it next to a frame of Jungkook with Seokjin. She pauses at the sight of her boyfriend in the first one, looking dapper in a suit at the engagement party she’d attended as his date. In the second, Jungkook’s hair is thick and lush, falling onto his forehead with ease, his face shiny and alight with post-concert adrenaline. “Looks good, no?”

Jungkook grins. “If you insist. What about those?”

Lia takes stock of the remaining. “This one is nice… oh, this one is, too - but it might become repetitive… why do you have so many pictures with Namjoon? Okay, wait - this one, for sure. Oh - and this group picture.” She hands half of them to Jungkook and starts arranging the rest.

“Perfect.”

At his proclamation, both of them step back again to survey their progress. “Looks great, babe. We can get rid of the box and finally clear -” She breaks off when she sees a few frames still in the box. “Wait, what about these?”

“No more space.”

Lia frowns. “Huh,” she utters softly, tucking her hair behind her ears and reaching for the pictures. One is of Jungkook and Bang PD, but there’s already another one of them on the shelf, so she lets it go. The second is a slightly unfocused one of him at dinner with a few friends, while the third is the group picture she’d handed to him a couple of minutes ago.

She holds it up to show him. “You’re not putting this up?”

“What?” He glances at the picture and shakes his head. “No… it’s really crowded and you can’t see anyone in it. Besides, it’s not even a special event,” he adds.

She looks back down at it. It’s clearly taken at someone’s house - and at a party, judging by the attire. There are definitely a lot of people, but crowded might be a bit of an overstatement. There are about ten or twelve people at most, some sitting on a sofa and the rest standing behind it, almost everyone clutching glasses with varying levels of drink and smiling into the camera.

Even through the motionless image, the air of mild intoxication and friendship and fun is palpable. Almost all the members of BTS are in the picture, but the rest are a mixture of unfamiliar boys and girls, most of whom Lia doesn’t think she’s ever met. Jungkook is towards the side of the sofa, looking younger than she’s ever known him, with his friend Mingyu on one side and a girl on the other, perched on the arm of the couch.

Lia’s gaze lingers on Jungkook; this picture is pre-military, clearly, before the group went on hiatus to enlist. His eyes are shining, his hair thick and long, the lip ring glinting in the dim light. She spots various members of BTS; Jimin’s infectious smile, Namjoon’s dimple, Taehyung’s arrogantly handsome expression. All the other pictures with the group members on the shelf are at events - tours, shoots, engagements, the White House. This one is the most candid - the only candid one.

She bites her lip; she knows reuniting for a comeback wasn’t the cakewalk Jungkook tried to pass it off as. From the snippets she’s picked up from him and the way her marketing team at Hybe has been working on it since before she and Jungkook even met, it’s been clear that the members have been approaching it with different states of mind - and it’s no surprise that Jungkook might be struggling with it the most.

She watches him saunter into the kitchen and duck behind the fridge door. She’d never wanted to push him, especially about a part of his life she didn’t really know, but maybe that wasn’t the right way to go about it.

“Maybe we can fit it next to the one of you and Namjoon at the UN,” she suggests. “There’s space there. Or we can replace the one of you and your boxing instructor?”

“I like that one,” replies Jungkook without looking up, now busy assembling breakfast. “Do you want ham?”

“Sure, thanks,” she says absently. Glancing down at the picture again, she shakes her head slightly. It looks like a still from a movie. “It’s a really nice picture, Kook.”

“They’re all nice pictures, but something or the other would get cut,” he says reasonably. “These three are the least nice ones, I guess.”

“It was nice enough to get framed,” she points out. She knows she’s being persistent but it’s most unlike Jungkook to deliberately exclude a picture with his friends, especially the members of BTS. “Even the colour palette would look great with the rest. I think you should consider it.”

Jungkook sucks a bit of sauce off the tip of his finger. “It’s my shelf,” he says simply.

There’s a line, a line beyond which she’s sure her sweet and patient boyfriend can snap. Lia doesn’t think she’s there yet but a part of her is curious to see how far she can take this - and how concerning the situation is.

“Jungkook,” she begins, her tone gentler than before, “is something wrong? Because I thought everything was starting to go back to normal.”

He pauses before sighing softly. “You’re right,” he says finally, looking up but not quite meeting her eyes. “Everything’s okay now. You should put up that picture.” He gives her a small smile and goes back to the sandwiches.

Lia obliges, but something continues nagging at her. Jungkook is an open book, but this topic feels so out of reach to her that she can’t even begin to know where to start. As their comeback rehearsals and studio sessions have increased in frequency, he’s started to reach home later and later, looking more relieved and happy each time. She wonders if it’s still not enough for him, if something has changed so irreversibly that things aren’t bad - they’re just different.

But there are other things to do today.

“This might be the coolest thing we’ve done together,” says Jungkook excitedly. He slows the car, searching for a parking spot. When Lia doesn’t answer, he frowns. “You don’t agree?”

She winces. “I don’t think it’s the coolest.”

“Can you name a cooler thing we’ve done?”

“I can name, like, twenty.”

Jungkook huffs. “Do you really not want to do this?” he whines, his shoulders slumping.

“Of course, I do,” she answers immediately, squeezing his arm, her fingers pale against his dark tattoo sleeve. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Are you sure? Because it’s really not a big deal, we don’t have to -”

“I know that, Kook,” she interrupts him patiently. “I want to, I promise. I mean, it was kind of my idea,” she adds.

“What?” He glances at her incredulously. “I suggested couple tattoos, like, one month after we started dating.”

“Yeah, that probably wasn’t the best strategy,” she mutters wryly. “But, I meant, the design of the tattoos was my idea.”

“That’s true,” he allows. “And it’s a nice design. Very…” He breathes in dramatically. “Very us. Our core. A lot of history there,” he points out, grinning.

“And the least cheesy design I could think of.” She pinches his cheek as he slides into a parking spot, unable to resist. “Also one where if we break up, mine won’t look strange.”

“Wow, way to ruin it, Lee-lee,” he mutters, scowling as he switches off the car. “That’s it - we’re switching. I’m getting the basketball, you’re getting the basket.”

“What? Absolutely not,” argues Lia as she climbs out of the car. “I’m the one who came up with it; I’m getting the ball.”

“No, now I don’t want the basket. Why can’t you get it?”

“Because it’ll make no sense, an empty basket,” she points out, walking alongside him. “You have enough tattoos that it won’t stand out. Oh, and also - I actually play basketball?”

“That doesn’t sound fair.”

“That’s tough, Jeon,” she says shortly, patting him on the shoulder as they climb the stairs to the entrance of the tattoo parlour. “But we’ve already got the sketch and placement and everything done, and we’re sticking to the plan.”

“God, you’re bossy.”

“And you’re bratty,” she retorts, squeezing his shoulders and kissing his left one. “But I love you anyway.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook grins as they enter the reception, trailing slightly behind her. The low hum of the air conditioner takes over from the traffic outside as he follows Lia to the desk, keeping barely an inch of distance between their bodies and leaning over her shoulder. “You mean that?”

“Sure.”

“God, I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he mutters, pulling out his wallet for his ID and placing it next to hers, flashing a smile at the receptionist. “Fine, I’ll get the basket.”

He pinches her waist gently and she gasps in surprise, swatting his hand away. “Good. Because we’ve pushed this appointment enough times and I just want it to be done. I hate that it’s just unfinished and incomplete and just hanging there, waiting for us to get on with it.”

“Huh.” Jungkook is quiet for a moment. “What if the artist isn’t available today?”

“Then I will physically pick up the tattoo gun and draw the tattoos on us.”

“You’d really draw a tattoo on me? You? I mean, I love you,” he quickly backtracks, “but… you?”

“Exactly,” she says as they walk inside together. “So you better hope he’s in today or you’re going to end up having my artwork on your skin forever.”

“Point taken.”

Fortunately for them, not only is the artist available, but he’s prepped and ready to go. Two reclining chairs have been placed next to each other, the tattoo guns are plugged in and kept on the table, sterilised needles still in the packets, and a tray with small bottles of water.

“Ah, my favourite customer is here,” he greets, his lined face lighting up when he sees Jungkook. “And my second favourite customer by association,” he says to Lia, chortling at his own joke as they bow slightly to each other.

“Thank you for making the time,” she says, while Jungkook genially hugs him.

“Of course, of course. Ah, this is Eunbi,” he remembers, turning slightly and gesturing to a young woman who steps out of the staff room, “my apprentice.”

Eunbi gives them a small smile, smoothing her short blond hair self-consciously. The roots have begun to darken but it gives her a nice, rustic look.

They get settled after that, Lia and Jungkook on one chair each, while Eunbi and her boss take their seats on revolving stools, sketch pens in hand and tattoo guns on standby.

“It’s a really cute idea,” says Eunbi, carefully drawing the basketball on the inside of Lia’s wrist. “Jungkook oppa, you’re getting the basket?”

“That’s right.” He takes Lia’s free right hand from beside him and squeezes it. “I’m taking one for the team,” he says dramatically.

She rolls her eyes but squeezes his hand back anyway. “You’re the one who wanted couple tattoos. If anything, I’m taking one for the team.”

“Same difference.”

“Why basketball?” The tattoo artist, who Lia realises has yet to mention his name, peers at them from above his dark glasses. “Is it some new meme I’m not aware of?”

“Oh, no, it’s not a meme,” says Jungkook quickly. “We met while playing basketball.”

Eunbi looks up. “Really?”

“Playing is a bit of an overstatement,” says Lia.

“I didn’t know you played basketball,” says the tattoo artist skeptically to Jungkook. “Are you any good?”

“I’m getting better,” he mumbles, while Lia snorts.

“It’s true, he is,” she adds, grinning at Jungkook’s increasingly annoyed expression. “The first time was… not great. But he’s been practising since then.”

“Good on you, kid. You know, I used to play basketball in high school.”

“Really?” Jungkook turns to him excitedly. “Which position? Do you follow the NBA? I’ve started recently…”

Lia bites her lip as she watches him prattle on about his favourite team, about the last match he’d watched. It was one of the most endearing things he’d done: diving into her favourite sport with interest, learning the rules, watching the matches and following the players on social media.

She squeezes his hand absently, also glad that his strange mood from earlier seems to have disappeared. He’s cheery as ever, all the way from flirting his way into her shower, to proclaiming how he was willing to get the basket tattooed to prove how, much like the basketball filled the basket, she filled him with happiness.

Then she’d groaned and cringed while he’d laughed his arse off, turning the volume up in the car and singing along angelically to whatever song was playing.

“Lia.” Jungkook tugs at her hand. “You want to take this one?”

“Huh?” She turns apologetically to Eunbi. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“Oh, I - I asked how you two met.”

“Oh.” Lia glances at Jungkook, pursing her lips in amusement. “I think you should probably take this, no?”

He shakes his head and mock-glares at her. “Uh, okay. Well, long story short: we went on a date, I was a bit of a douche, but she decided to give me a second chance anyway.” Despite the humour of the situation, the relief in his voice is audible.

Heart warm, she nods. “He worked pretty damn hard for it.”

Jungkook nods. “Basketballs to the face notwithstanding.”

“Aw, that’s cute. And so are the tattoos,” adds Eunbi. “I wish my boyfriend would agree to one - but he’s terrified of needles.”

“I was terrified of basketballs for a good week there,” notes Jungkook. “But you’ve got to face your fears to overcome them,” he says wisely.

“You’re right. I wish he’d been a douche on our first date,” she jokes, “then I could’ve asked him to get a tattoo for me.”

“He’d have to be a really big douche for that,” says the tattoo artist, before lightly smacking Jungkook on the shoulder and ignoring his gasp. “And why were you a douche, huh?”

“I wasn’t - I didn’t -“

“His friend set him up and he was in a bad mood,” supplies Lia, reaching over and pinching her boyfriend’s cheek as he scowls.

“A really bad mood,” he clarifies. “Because he kept texting during dinner and asking for updates - I could’ve hit him, I swear.”

The tattoo artist responds reproachfully to Jungkook, but Lia barely hears it, for it brings back another memory she doesn’t dwell on too often.

She likes video games.

It’s the only aspect of their history she would rather ignore. Everything else - his apology, his attempts at getting to know her better, riding home on his motorbike in the rain, basketball with Dal - makes her reminisce with fondness, more often than not leading to an increased amount of affection for her boyfriend for the rest of the day. This one part of it, though? Not ideal.

She feels Jungkook clutch her hand tighter then, and she realises his tattoo has begun, the hum of the gun cutting through her thoughts. She squeezes his hand back automatically, endeared and exasperated at his wincing despite hundreds of tattoos, and pushes the unwanted detail of their history aside.

“I love it,” he says later, once they’re almost back at his house. He peels off the plastic from his shoulder a little bit before hissing.

“Don’t take it off yet, come on,” she tells him, pressing it back into place and stroking the reddened area. “It’s still fresh. And it does look great,” she acknowledges, lightly tracing the basket that’s wedged peacefully between two bigger tattoos on his tricep. “Do you think the fans will notice a new tattoo?”

“Doubt it. Or maybe they will,” he says after a moment. “You never know. They won’t be able to tell it’s about you, though,” he assures her.

“I’m sure,” she agrees, observing her own basketball tattoo. It hurt more than she expected but somehow, having Jungkook there doing the same thing helped. She won’t admit it to him without some eye-rolling, but she finds herself happy with their decision to get the tattoos after all.

“Do you want to get lunch?” Jungkook asks, unlocking the door and gently steering her in first.

“I’m good with ramen, honestly,” she says, taking off her shoes and padding through the living room. “Could you get a couple packets from the pantry? I’ll put the water on.”

Jungkook nods and disappears, softly humming a tune. Lia glances at the entertainment unit, his Playstation and neatly stacked DVDs, mildly satisfied that after an entire weekend’s worth of work, his apartment is properly set up.

Her gaze falls on the pictures, scanning Jungkook’s handsome face in each, before landing on the same group picture they’d argued about this morning.

And something falls into place.

“Got it!” When Jungkook returns a few minutes later, arms laden with no less than four packets of ramen, it’s to see Lia standing in the middle of the carpet, one of the photo frames in her hands. Even from here, he can tell exactly which picture it is.

She doesn’t look up at his entrance, and he takes the opportunity to dump the ramen on the kitchen island and slowly approach her.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Lia seems to tear her eyes from the picture to meet his eyes. To his relief, she doesn’t look angry or hurt. She simply looks curious - and confused. “This is - this is her.”

Jungkook bites his lip. “What are you talking about?”

She turns the picture towards him. “The girl you had a crush on. Back then.” She deliberately doesn’t elaborate and for that he is thankful. “This is her,” she says, pointing and tapping her finger on the glass.

It’s barely a question. After a moment, he nods. “Yeah, it is.”

She raises her eyebrows in surprise, as though she wasn’t expecting him to admit it so quickly. “And this is clearly the boyfriend,” she mutters as she gazes at the frozen faces, seemingly to herself, not being able to tell how his heart jerks. She looks up at his again, frowning. “Is that why you didn’t want to put this picture up? Because she’s in it, too?”

Jungkook sighs, his shoulders slumping. His gaze briefly falls on the picture, on her face, and he immediately looks away. “It didn’t feel right,” he confesses. “It felt like I would be… I don’t know. Disrespecting you.” He shakes his head and looks at the floor. “Especially if… someday, you decide to…” Here, he trails off, unable to find the nerve to finish his sentence.

“But… why?” Lia still just sounds confused. “She was just a friend, right? And you said it was over.”

“She was. And it is.” He shrugs, ignoring the old, dull pang in his chest. “I haven’t seen or spoken to her in years.”

“Did you think I would be mad?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, now wishing he’d just agreed to put the picture up when she’d handed it to him in the morning. This isn’t a topic he ever wanted to surface, and not with her. “When I first told you, you seemed… kind of mad. And then a bit sad.” He shakes his head. “You’re the most important thing to me now. I don’t want to ruin it.”

After a moment, he hears her sigh. He knows this sigh; it’s the same one he’d heard when he’d confessed to her that he didn’t know a lick of basketball, when his meticulously-planned drive-in movie date had gone to shit, when he’d inadvertently revealed that he was afraid she’d think he was too young for her.

“Kook…” She comes up to him, placing the frame on the coffee table on the way. Gently holding his hand, she tilts her head to meet his eyes. “I can’t be mad at you for something that happened before we met. Everyone has a past.”

“Yeah, but I’ve told you about this particular past before,” he reminds her, feeling wretched. “And it didn’t go very well.”

“Well… yeah. It didn’t come up in the best way, I guess,” she murmurs, and he knows she’s remembering their conversation in the Hybe copy room. “But now that we’ve moved past that… I can’t hold you to a crush you had years ago. Especially when it seems like you were friends,” she adds quietly.

Jungkook’s chest starts to feel heavy again. “You just… you sounded kind of mad. I think. Maybe I was imagining it,” he mutters, shrugging tiredly.

“I wasn’t mad… I guess I was a little thrown,” she admits. “I mean, I know you said she had a boyfriend. I just didn’t think it was one of the other members.”

He says nothing. He appreciates her understanding, although he should’ve always expected her to rise above petty jealousy or insecurity. It occurs to him for the hundredth time how lucky he is to have her; how, in the midst of a truly despondent time in his life, she’d been the beacon of light he’d been fortunate enough to stumble upon. He hadn’t looked back since.

But the moment his gaze lands on the picture discarded behind her, his heart creeps up his throat again.

“Is that what it is?” Her voice brings him back. “Do you feel guilty because she was dating your friend?”

For starters. There’s no point, he realises. As mature and understanding as Lia is, Jungkook doesn’t think he can find the words or the courage to relive his regrets, the ones that still catch him unawares when he hears her name in passing, or when he goes to rehearsal and inadvertently locks eyes with his hyung.

“Kind of.”

Lia nods slowly. “It’s okay, Jungkook,” she murmurs, tugging at his hand again. “No one can control how they feel.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to respond to that. He makes a non-committal sound, his gaze flickering to the ground.

“You told me you were over her.”

“And I meant it.”

She squeezes his hand. “Good.”

He wills the heaviness in his chest to go away, and forces a small smile onto his face. “Sorry.”

She returns it, holding his gaze before reaching up and pressing a quick kiss to his mouth. “We don’t have to put it up,” she reminds him.

But Jungkook shakes his head. “No, you’re right. It is a nice picture,” he allows, picking it up. “And it was a long time ago.”

Apparently satisfied, Lia smiles back radiantly. “And you look very hot in it.”

“If only you’d known me then.”

“You would’ve learnt to play basketball a lot sooner,” she agrees, chuckling.

“So you forgive me?” he asks after a moment.

Lia’s smile fades slightly. “For having a crush?” she asks, reaching up and touches his forehead with hers. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Not even to your friend,” she adds. “I mean, nothing happened, right?”

She’s beautiful. A beacon of light in a period of darkness he couldn’t see beyond. She saved him, more than she would know.

Jungkook brushes a lock of hair off her forehead. “No,” he lies.

After lunch, Jungkook volunteers to clean up the living room and kitchen while Lia goes to do the laundry. Collecting their clothes from his bedroom, she chucks them in the washing machine, loading it with detergent and softener and turning it on.

She stops by the pantry on her way back, looking for a chocolate bar or any other candy, something to officially clear the air with Jungkook. She searches along the shelves, passing by ramen, boxes of Caffetta coffee, and a lot of protein powder - only to come to the conclusion that his house is hopelessly understocked with sugar.

“We can get low fat,” she murmurs to herself, preempting his response as she makes her way back to the living room. She stops abruptly at the doorway when she spots him, his back tilted towards her, framed picture in hand.

Lia’s heartbeat feels louder for a moment. She takes a quick step back behind the doorway; it’s unnecessary, though, for his focus is on something else entirely.

She ought to have seen it before. It wasn’t until they returned to Jungkook’s apartment that she even noticed the most important detail in the picture. Mingyu sat to Jungkook’s right while a girl sat to his left, perched on the arm of the sofa. One hand hung loosely around Jungkook’s shoulder, so casually, so harmlessly, that Lia hadn’t even registered it this morning.

On her other side was her boyfriend, clearly. The way she leaned into him, the way his arm rested confidently on her waist, his fingers brushing the bare skin between her light blue jeans and striped crop top, the way their bodies fit perfectly - it looked like they’d known each other forever. There was no doubt as to who he was, especially since he was someone Lia had definitely met.

In light of how intensely close the couple looked, the girl’s hand around Jungkook’s shoulder seemed unimportant. It was almost like a habit, or convenience, her dark nail paint and the small cigarette stub between her fingers looking like they belonged there.

It’s her, isn’t it? There was no one else in the picture it could be, not any of the other handful of girls in the same frame. It’s her; the one who likes video games, the one with a boyfriend - the boyfriend who Lia now knows is one of Jungkook’s best friends, a big brother he loves.

She bites her lip, continuing to watch him until his shoulders relax slightly and he places the photograph back on the shelf. He gathers the empty bowls on the centre table and heads towards the kitchen, and Lia feels the seed of uneasiness sink in her stomach.

She can believe he’s over her. She can believe it’s in the past, that Jungkook is with her in the present.

Whatever it is, though - it’s definitely not finished.

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to leave a review :)

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bangtanwhq #bangtantheatrenet #bangtanbathhouse #k-vanity #wkcnet #bangtanoasis #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook angst

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ralfmaximus · 1 year ago

Text

You realize it’s been over a year since your last eye exam so you take advantage of a coupon for $50 exams at this new place that just opened.

You call the number on the coupon and a rough, heavily Russian voice answers.

“Eye Exam.”

“Yes, I’d like to make an appointment to get my eyes checked?”

Moments pass. You hear typing on a keyboard, a pause while the typist takes a long deep drag from a cigarette. More typing. Just as you are about to ask if everything is okay the Russian returns.

“Appointment is made.”

Click. The phone goes dead. Frantic redials to the same number are met with constant ringing – no answer -- thereafter. You give up after a few minutes.

You feel unsettled, worried. Vaguely threatened. You wonder if you should call the police. But… what would you tell them?

Days pass without incident. Soon you forget about the strange call. You make an appointment with LensCrafters for next Thursday at 6pm, after work.

It is 2:10 am that very night the Russians come for you.

You are woken from a deep sleep by a rough hand covering your mouth, muffling any screams. His other hand surrounding your wrist. You jolt awake, heart pounding, legs thrashing but they are prepared for that – another man leans in on the bed and presses his weight onto you, grasping the other wrist with unyielding strength. Defeated, you sag.

The first man leans in close, eyes searching yours. He nods. It is understood you will not scream if released.

“Time for eye appointment, da?”

You nod slowly. Both men let go. You sit up, but before you can get a really good look at them the second Russian produces a black sack and cinches it over your head. It smells faintly of onions.

You are lifted from your bed effortlessly and marched, blind, still in your night clothes, out of your bedroom. There is a brief pause in your living room during which one of your captors makes a phone call. But it is only twenty seconds of rapid-fire Russian and you are led out of your apartment and downstairs into a waiting van. The floor is cold metal and you feel flecks of rust under your bare feet as you are forced down into a sitting position in one corner.

The van drives for 45 minutes.

When the doors open again, you smell salt water and rust. You are lifted and dragged. Your legs are an explosion of crawling pins-and-needles, useless for the time being, scraping across the metal floor and then cold concrete outside the van. You scream but are shaken to silence.

The first Russian leans in close and says, through the hood, “Shut up. Do not speak. You will see many things, but do not speak.”

Your legs slowly come alive and soon you are able to stand as the men lead you forward over concrete and then a wooden ramp, leading up to what feels like tile under your bare feet. The place reeks of diesel oil, fried fish, salt water, and gym socks. Eventually you are led into a place of carpeting and air conditioning and the smells diminish a bit – or perhaps you are becoming used to them.

You are forced into a chair as the hood is whipped off.

Before you, on a table made from a plywood sheet and two saw-horses, is a spanking new Charops CRK-1P autorefractor machine, all smooth curves and sleek plastic. Behind it, on the floor you can see the carton it was unpacked from: plastic sheets, white foam inserts, and pink packing peanuts piled into the empty box. A single pink packing peanut clings to the machine via static electricity.

A hand shoves you from behind.

“Look in machine,” you are told.

You lean forward and press your head against the black forehead bar, triggering the machine. It shows you letters, numbers, images of balloons floating in 3D. You respond to grunted questions about what you see and the clarity of images.

Click! The session ends, the viewer goes dark. A hand yanks your shoulder back and the hood goes on again. Onions and darkness. You are dragged to your feet and led to another room, another makeshift table, another machine.

This happens twice more.

By the third reapplication of the hood (onions, darkness, and now, sweat) you have become numb to the routine. You have always been on a Russian cargo ship, you have always been taking tests, you have always been yanked around by monosyllabic Russians.

Therefore it is a surprise when you are dragged into the same van as before and shoved back into your familiar corner. The van door slides shut again, and the engine revs.

45 minutes later you are back home, standing in your apartment.

The hood comes off for a final time, revealing your original Russian abductor. He holds out his hand: “$100 dollars please.”

You stand there, blinking. Unbelievable.

“What? $100 for what?”

He scowls at you. “Eye exam. $100 for eye exam. Pay now.” He glances meaningfully at his waiting palm.

“I don’t think—“

He rolls this eyes at this, pushes you aside and grabs your wallet off the coffee table behind you.

“Hey! That’s—“

Your wallet is tiny in his huge hands, but with surprising delicacy he extracts two twenties and a ten -- all the cash you have -- holds them up to you accusingly. He does not look amused.

“I, uh… have a coupon.”

He frowns, tasting the word. “Coupon? Coupon. Coupon…”

Further digging in your wallet and he produces the EYE EXAM $50 coupon that started this whole mess. He sighs in defeat, pockets the cash and throws the coupon & wallet back onto the table. Turns to go.

“Wait!”

The Russian stops, turns. Glares at you. This better be important.

“My prescription?”

For the first time, he smiles. A goofy, eye-rolling, head-smacking D’oh! of a smile. Reaches with massive, filthy fingers into a front pants pocket and produces a crumpled sheet of folded copier paper. Throws it at your feet.

“Eye exam,” he nods before leaving your life forever.

#me #writing

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digital-corruption · 2 years ago

Text

This is just a little two-part story for an idea I had while working on my original story. I hope you enjoy it. 😁

Infiltrator - Part 1

MC walked into the large, spacious lobby carrying a large cardboard box, holding her head low so the baseball cap on her head would cover her eyes from the cameras as she entered. The first thing she noticed was the ostentatious use of marble. The floor, walls, reception desk, even the benches for waiting visitors were all marble. She contemplated ditching her plan of getting upstairs and instead just faking a fall and injuring her back instead, then suing the corporation for an obscene amount of money for their hazardous use of marble instead. Maybe the client would be happy with a generous payout instead. Then again, to make it stick she would actually have to be injured to some degree, and someone would absolutely lose his mind if she went that far. No, she had to stick to her plan of sneaking upstairs to their highest levels and find their most sensitive secrets. Somehow.

“How can I help you? Is that a delivery? I can take that for you,” the female receptionist reached for the carton in MC’s hands.

“Ah, no ma’am. I’m under strict orders on this one. It must be delivered to the big guy upstairs, and only him,” MC smirked confidently, then pointed to the top of the box. “See? Says ‘Sens-i-tive’.”

“I’m afraid that’s just not possible. We’ll take it to him and make sure no one else sees the contents of the package,” the receptionist frowned. MC could tell she wasn’t buying her excuse.

“But I could get fired for it!” MC raised her voice. “Please, my boss will have my head if I just hand it to the downstairs reception!”

The receptionist glanced over at the large, male security guard who was now walking over, “And my boss will have my head if I let you upstairs.”

“Is everything ok here, Marcy?” the security guard rested his elbow on the reception desk next to MC.

“Yes, we’re ok here, Ralph,” Marcy waved her hand.

“I have a super sensitive, top secret, for the boss’ eyes only package here. I must deliver it upstairs,” MC pushed.

“Uh-huh,” Ralph raised his eyebrow. “I’ll tell you what - I have a super sensitive, top secret, machine with X-ray eyes here,” he gestured to the security gate before the elevators. “Why don’t we let the machine decide?”

“And if it passes, you’ll let me up?” MC questioned.

“No, your package will be allowed up,” he shook his head in disbelief.

While they were talking, the internal phone on the desk rang and Marcy answered it. “Yes, sir? Ah, yes, it is. Are you sure? Ok, I’ll send her up.” Marcy turned her attention back to Ralph. “Um, he said to let her up.”

“What? Really?” the guard did a double take.

Marcy shrugged, “He’s been expecting this package.”

It was MC’s turn to do a double take. Surely the target had no idea she was there. Hell, he didn’t even know she was there. Because if he had known, he would’ve tried to stop her. He told her to wait, but waiting was taking too long. She couldn’t wait any longer, not when she knew the information they needed was right there.

“So I can go then?” MC’s voice squeaked as it got caught in her throat.

“After you are cleared by us,” Ralph frowned and motioned for her to head to the security checkpoint.

MC nervously put the carton down on the conveyor belt, feeling all eyes on her. She had nothing to worry about though, the box was full of random irrelevant papers and files, most of them blank. There was nothing that would concern security. She watched as the carton moved up the conveyor belt and into screening before stepping forwards to go through the metal detector herself.

The detector beeped loudly, catching MC by surprise, but then she remembered she still had her phone, earphone and keys in her pocket. She dashed back to dump the contents of her pockets into a tray, then hastily pushed it onto the conveyor belt, before going through the detector again. This time she came up clean. MC glanced to Ralph who gave her a begrudging nod of approval before she moved to pick up her belongings again. As she picked up her phone, her phone buzzed. A notification popped up on the screen that she had missed call. Shoving her phone in her pocket, she held her earphone between her fingers as she collected the carton and moved onto the elevator.

“You’ll want to go to floor 44,” Ralph said as she walked past.

“Thank you,” MC nodded shyly, then quickly jumped into an open elevator before the doors closed.

The elevator was rather full, but MC was the only one heading to the top floor. She made her way to the back corner as the elevator stopped several times on the way up. As soon as she had some space, she leaned the carton against the handlebar so she could shove the earphone into her right ear just in time as her phone was ringing again.

“Um, hi. What’s up?” MC said meekly. A few of the other passengers turned to look at her, but rolled their eyes and went back to what they were doing.

<<Just wondering how it was going. You know, that thing with you family. What was it again?>> there was something about Jake’s voice that unnerved her.

“Uh, my cousin’s engagement party. Yeah, it’s good. It’s, you know, boring,” MC winced as she lied.

<<Uh-huh. And the aunt you haven’t seen in ages. She’s good too?>> he asked.

“Oh, yes! She’s great! Yeah, she’s great,” she nodded subconsciously. “Wh-what you up to tonight? I really miss you. Would’ve been nice to have you here to save me from this boredom.”

<<I’ve spent most of the afternoon getting into this mainframe,>> he explained vaguely.

“D-did you manage to get in?” MC started to panic as the elevator passed the 40th floor.

<<You could say that,>> he said flatly, giving her goosebumps.

MC glanced up at the CCTV camera in the corner of the elevator, unsure of who she was more afraid of watching her right then and there.

<<Don’t worry. Only I can see you right now,>> his voice dripped with anger.

“Hi,” MC grinned as the elevator beeped. “Oh, it’s my floor!”

<<MC!>> Jake tried so hard to not yell at her in that moment.

MC stepped out on the floor to yet another reception area. This one though had wide, sweeping windows behind it, overlooking the city. She couldn’t help but notice a familiar looking drone hovering in the distance.

“Um, can I help you?” the receptionist stood up in complete shock over the stranger in cheap, brown overalls walking towards her. “How did you get up here?”

“Your boss let me up here,” MC shrugged. “I have a package for him.”

“My boss? What package?” the receptionist shook her head. “Has that been cleared by security?”

“Yes, of course it has,” MC insisted.

“I don’t know how you got up here, but just leave it here and go,” the receptionist glared.

<<MC, this plan isn’t going to work. Give it up,>> Jake interrupted in her ear.

“Afraid I can’t do. It must be delivered to his office,” MC pushed.

<<MC! Don’t push your luck!>> he snapped. <<Get out of there before you get caught!>>

“Ugh, he’s not even in at the moment,” the receptionist pinched the bridge of her nose.

“That’s ok, I’ll just leave it on his desk,” MC smiled.

<<MC…>> he sighed. <<That’s not going to work.>>

“Can’t you just leave it in his personal meeting room or something?” the receptionist waved her hand. “I can’t let you into his office.”

“Uh, where’s that?” MC glanced around.

“In the back there,” the receptionist gestured. “I’ll take you.”

<<No way,>> he muttered.

“Oh, thank you! I feel like I would get lost if I tried to go by myself,” MC humoured as the receptionist came to the other side of the desk.

“It’s literally straight down the hall,” the receptionist pointed to the hallway in front of her.

“And I would still get lost!” MC laughed to herself as she followed.

“Um, ok,” the receptionist shook her head. She took out her security key card and unlocked the electronic lock on the meeting room door. “Here you are. Please leave it on the table.”

“Sure,” MC nodded and went into the room to put the carton on the table.

A strange thump sound caught her by surprise. She jumped and snapped back around to see the receptionist unconscious on the floor and a drone dart out of sight into an open air vent.

“What did you do!?” MC gritted her teeth.

<<Gave you an opportunity. You’re welcome,>> he said blandly.

“You could’ve killed her with a fall like that!” MC rolled her eyes and ran over to check the woman.

The receptionist was still breathing, but soundly asleep with a dart sticking out of her neck. MC snatched the dart and shoved it into her pocket before dragging the woman into the room. She grabbed her security pass, then quickly left the meeting room and closed the door behind her. With the security pass in her hand, she made a mad dash for the executive’s office. Hearing the door successfully unlock left a smile on MC’s face.

“And he said it couldn’t be done,” she whispered as she closed the door behind her.

<<I didn’t say it couldn’t be done,>> Jake corrected. <<I said you’re going to get caught. You’re not in the clear yet. And besides that, exactly how were you planning to lose your escort?>>

“Tell her I need to use the toilet?” MC thought out loud as she made her way to the large, mahogany desk in the middle of the room.

<<Please tell me you’re joking,>> MC could’ve sworn she heard him slap his palm onto his forehead over the microphone.

“I would’ve worked it out,” she insisted as she shuffled the papers on his desk.

<<Yes, of course,>> he sighed. <<Please don’t try to infiltrate a giant corporation without me again.>>

MC pursed her lips but couldn’t hold back the smile. “Ok, I promise.”

<<Good. Now please find something of value so this isn’t a wasted opportunity. Try the drawers. He’s not going to leave anything out in the open,>> Jake suggested.

"Right," MC tried to open the first drawer to no avail. "It’s locked."

<<Then pick it,>> he responded plainly.

“I couldn’t bring my picks past security,” she shook her head.

<<There are paperclips everywhere in that office. Find a couple of thin ones and get to it,>> he instructed.

“Yes, yes,” she rolled her eyes and picked a couple of clips from the documents on his desk. “Do you need me to do anything with his computer?”

<<No, your phone is close enough,>> he explained.

As MC straightened the clips enough to use as picks, she asked, “Are you in his machine?”

<<Yes, there’s nothing on here. Or if there is anything, it’s in heavily coded messages. It would take me weeks to make any connections,>> he sighed.

MC knelt and stuck the clips into the lock on the first drawer. After a minute, she finally managed to open the lock. She jumped up and tore it open. Rummaging through the plain documents, she couldn’t work out why anyone would keep them locked up.

<<Anything?>> Jake pushed.

“These are just invoices and random company notices,” she shook her head. “Why does he keep them locked up?”

<<Invoices for what?>> he questioned.

“Uh, this one is an invoice for rent paid,” she shrugged.

<<Rent for where?>> he pressured.

“Some warehouse downtown,” she commented as she looked it over for the third time.

<<Lay everything out on the desk and photograph it all. It’s going to be important - we just need to work out why,>> he confirmed.

MC took all of the documents and spread them out like a deck of cards across the desk, then pulled out her phone and started photographing them one by one as quickly as she could.

“You think this could be the break we need?” MC thought out loud while snapping the photos.

<<MC! Get out of there!>> Jake yelled over the microphone.

“I’ve got two more,” she objected and continued.

<<Now MC!>> he screamed.

The office door burst open abruptly and armed guards rushed at MC while she still had her phone in her hands.

“Get her phone!” the head of security ordered from behind.

One of the guards came around the desk and forced her to bend over, slamming her head into the desk. Her phone was knocked out of her hand and picked up by a second guard.

“Wait, please let me-“ MC began, but she was interrupted by the butt of an assault rifle hitting her head.

To be continued...

#duskwood #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood jake #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood fanfic

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sisitrip · 1 year ago

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For the @gallavichthings event A.U.gust 2023 prompt "Cyberpunk", I offer "B8ted Breath."

Thank you @gallavichthings and the people behind that tag for hosting! I don't know what this is, but whatever it does turn out to be, I had fun.

Housekeeping:

Funerarium - Funeral Home

Gravecodes - Condensed data containing video/audio of the deceased that can only be viewed in my dystopian funerarium.

Rig-mech - A terraforming machine technician who works on rigs used to make inhabitable outposts, habitable.

_____________________

Ian heads into the funerarium’s Reflection Room, a glass encased dome filled with fake flowers and a dry fountain sitting in the middle of its large space. He’s made coming here a habit after a gravecode visit. A sort of cherry on the morbid cake of his self flagellation.

He takes a seat on the ring of the fountain and pulls out a small, collapsible metal cup and a mini carton of milk. As always, he feels dumb doing this, but it comforts him after a rough viewing.

He’s pouring the milk into the cup when a B8 CL-WS unit glides noiselessly into the room. Boxy and sitting atop soundless rubber wheels, it rolls around cleaning non-existent dust off the floor. He smiles, thinking not for the first time that this particular cleaning unit looks a little like a robotic military tank.

“Shit,” he curses softly as he overflows his cup and it spills on the floor. The B8 immediately makes a beeline for him. He lifts his feet as the unit’s small, microfiber pad swipes through the liquid then blows heated air to dry what's left.

He laughs knowing he must look ridiculous with his feet hanging above the floor and his dumb collapsible cup raised in an awkward toast. The unit goes on blowing warm air, unmoving. This is the longest wipe and dry he’s ever seen. He couldn’t have spilled that much.

“Uh, I think it’s dry now,” he says.

The B8 just continues blowing air and he can feel it sliding uncomfortably up his pant legs. Great. It’s malfunctioning.

“Area sanitized. Retract.”

The unit doesn’t move.

“Um, retract,” he tries again, legs starting to ache in their raised position. “C’mon, retract dopey.”

Nothing.

Ian notices the code on the unit’s exterior has been altered. An ‘A’ has been scratched over the dash between the CL and WS. Despite his irritation, he laughs. It’s probably been done before, but for some reason, seeing that silly CLAWS etched into this broken cleaning unit is what he’d needed.

“Claws my ass, you box of junk. I should give you a kick,” he chuckles.

“I wouldn’t do that. She's been retrofitted with a mini-flame thrower.”

The voice startles him so badly, he falls backward into the fountain, cup flying. He bounces his head off an ornate cherub and sees stars.

“Jesus fuck!” he shouts, flailing as he tries to get out of the fountain without kicking the stupid B8 unit that was now whizzing back and forth over the newly spilled mess.

A hand braces itself on the rim of the fountain, bearing faded knuckle tattoos that spelled “FUCK.” He stares at it dizzily, fascinated by how menacing that hand looked despite its small size.

“If you’re thinking of taking a bath in this thing, it ain’t gonna happen, Cherry.”

A man, sporting a black military cap atop longish dark locks, peers down at Ian with the bluest eyes he’s ever seen this close. The looming man’s expression was equal parts amused and irritated as he held out his other hand.

Ian takes it and lets himself be hauled to his feet to properly look at his rescuer. This man was no more than 5’7” with a small, but compact frame and not the hulking menace he thought he was. Not usually Ian’s type, but those eyes. They were something.

He stares a little too long and the man snaps his fingers in front of his face.

“How hard did you ring your bell, man?”

Caught without an excuse for gazing longingly, Ian's face warms.

“That thing almost burned the hairs off my legs,” he complains, reaching down for his cup only to have the B8 snag it with a hook and toss it into a compartment on its back. “For Christ’s sake!”

The man rubs a finger across his ridiculously kissable mouth, chuckling quietly. Despite his irritation, Ian finds himself fighting an answering smile.

“The fuck you expect a cleaning unit to do?” the man scolds. “You drop shit, it picks it up.”

Ian rubs the small lump that’s starting to swell on the back of his head, anger flaring at the less than contrite attitude.

“I didn’t drop a damn thing. It flew out of my hand when you ninja'd out of thin air.” He glares at the man, noting his uniform, an all black jumpsuit bearing the name of the facility. “You work for Obriad?”

“That’s what the jumpsuit says.”

The man leans down, presses a series of buttons on the underside of the B8 and it takes off, zooming away towards a black door partially obscured by two huge, fake palms. The unit stops at the door, waiting patiently, like a dog.

“Then you might want to take that unit out of commission until it can be repaired,” Ian suggests, drinking the milk and taking in the tattoos on the man’s other hand. He snorts. Fuck U-Up. This one's a walking, talking poet.

“There’s nothing wrong with that B8. You spilled milk and it kept cleaning until it was dry. No use crying about it,” the man says, as if he's addressing a child.

Angry and at a loss for words, Ian drains the milk, taking in the man’s half smile that could be flirtatious or condescending. It feels like both. He regroups.

“I'm not going to argue about a faulty B8. Just try not to have it burn the hair off anyone else’s legs.”

He turns to walk away and is stopped by the snottiest intonation he’s ever heard.

“Sir, yes sir. Obriad extends its sincerest apologies, Mr. ...?”

Ian allows himself a quick grin before turning to look haughtily over his shoulder. Yeah, that smile he’d been confused about earlier? Definitely flirty.

“Gallagher. And you’re …?”

“Devastated by your displeasure.”

Ian laughs and that seems to please this exasperating man who continues.

“It's Milkovich. I run operations here and rest assured, your leg hair will be safe from now on.”

Ian gets a smile that eclipses every light in the room. Hell.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks, Mr. Milkovich.”

He gives a short, weird wave, suddenly unsure of how his hands work. Neck burning, he walks quickly to the e-lifts, silently cursing his inability to ever play it cool.

“It's Mickey.”

The softly called name reaches him at the doorway of the Reflection Room. He turns and Mickey is walking backwards toward that palm framed door, hands in his pockets. Ian considers for less than a second before offering his own name.

“Ian.”

Mickey touches the bridge of his cap and salutes him in an exaggerated farewell worthy of a sultan. Ian huffs a soft laugh and heads to the e-lift. After depressing his thumb to the location pad, it opens.

He spends the quick descent and vertical shifts to his transport thinking about how Mickey seemed less like a funerarium operations director and more like a rig-mech. Gruff and teasing, his demeanor was better suited for that kind of rough outpost work. Ian should know. He'd bedded more than a few of them.

The transport calculates the best route home and it's only halfway there that he realizes he's left his cup. He tells himself that he has to remember to ask Mickey for it on his next visit. It was everyone's duty to keep waste to a minimum, right? Retrieving a perfectly usable cup was the responsible thing to do. Honor demands it.

He looks at his reflection in the impenetrable plexishield of the window and the smile he wears is unique if for no other reason than it's a first on many levels.

It's the first time he's smiled in months. The first time he's smiled in this stupid transport he'd inherited from Monica.

More importantly, it's the first time he's ever smiled after a gravecode viewing.

He stares unseeing at the dry, rundown landscape of the approaching outpost and can't decide if this development is a good thing or cause for concern.

He shrugs. It doesn't matter. It feels good and that’s so rare for him, he savors it.

Maybe finding something to smile about in a funerarium is sacrilege. Maybe it’s not.

Whatever it is, he’ll be back next month if only to see those blue eyes again.

#a.u.gust 2023 #gallavich #my fic #ian x mickey

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foundinfantasy · 1 year ago

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Not a Modder (Just like to think creatively)

THE SIMS 4 HORSE RANCH

These were ideas I had before the pack came out with just knowing we were getting horses, nectar making, and mini-goats and sheep and just thought of how much more they could've done.

Tabletop dancing -> broken arm, leg, drunken antics, ie consequences

Bulk -> sell to bars, shipping, packaging, (carton of eggs, wine, boxes of apples), (personally would like to see cat and dog food as a purchasable item, cans and bags and tupperware)

Scouts update - > fundraising, bake sales / cookie drive, and horse camp

Lasso -> toddler to elder, child+ competitions

billiards -> social activity for teen+, random outcome, betting, pool hall

motorcycles -> we have bikes, wouldn't this basically be the same animation without the moving feet.

Rodeos - > with zero pixel animal abuse - social event and competition (using mechanical bull riding) at a saloon lot type with saloon doors

glasswork, ironwork, stones -> gold or stones from river, mining, making horseshoes, glassblowing, bead-making

any indigenous gameplay?! Sage harvestable, burnable, craftable sage, weaving skill, dreamcatchers, totems, blankets, books/conversing with sim about culture - > beads, jewelry, knitting addons - > crafting table

horse plow -> attachable wheel barrow to mass harvest all

mischief and politics -> new protests, new policies, and the urban legend of cowtipping

petting zoo - > update to barn to free llama and cow, ability to lock bunnies in, employee a fox, [just adding snakes and lizards]

nectar making - > should've been in mws - winetasting, order bottle during meal, blends, nameable, snob interactions and/or moodlets about the notes, make box wine [low, get drunk quick quality],

stare down - > rude introduction

pianola - > upgradable to play on its own [even though not historically accurate] - > ability to play piano drunk

MY IDEAS AFTER THE PACK WAS RELEASED (and I've spent like two days in game, not bored just drawing out that single drop of gameplay) - this is mainly where the "not a modder" comes in as I have no idea how easy or difficult it would be to add these things.

First off, lock that dance behind a skill or something

A Wandering Cowboy Mod - a cowboy NPC shows up randomly at my doorstep, is he hurt, is he friendly, is he a burglar, is he here to start a quest???

^^^ same concept but Alien Crash landing

Horses that steers goats/cattle back.

Ability to lead horses

Horse betting / mini game (make my rich sims poor)

Obvi, wild horses

Ability to brush teeth and/or an actual horse bath

Horsegirl books, toys, interactions,

Holster gun match with chances of misfire, with either possibly dying, etc, (historic version of this too)

Gunslingers and Bounty Hunters

obvi, Unicorn things; could be cool if used to cure all sickness/alignments from other mods and/or resets their age and/or work like Father Winter.

Bank Heists

A fiddle or banjo.

Ability to craft all the furniture with woodworking table.

Falling off the horse -> consequences

Replace in-game harvestable grapes with debug grape vines

Dual riders, teach to ride for children, romantic kiss where one sim is on the horse and the other is standing below them, lift onto horse to kiss, thrown over the horse and taken, watching stars together while sitting on horses

Nothing to do with westerns but the rocking horse mod made me want a rocket ride coin machine mod

Add with more thoughts later.

#also where are the trailer townies

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kaileeandag · 2 years ago

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Saya’s Collection

-Meet Outfit (navy blue Pokemon t-shirt,black blue jeans,and pink and white sneakers with white socks) -Meet Accessories (Giri Giri Girls Pretty Wolf single CD,blue and silver portable CD Player with headphones,pretend lemon snow cone,and Limited Too ‘S’ initial purse) (the CD plays 30 seconds of the song)

School Collection: -Saya’s First Day Outfit (pink short sleeve blouse,hot pink skirt,black bike shorts,and pink flip flops) (the bike shorts are so nobody can look up her skirt) -Saya’s Backpack (customized blue L.L. Bean backpack reading ‘Saya’ containing these items: Spongebob pencil box with two pencils,6th grade Science textbook,red FiveStar notebook,and a 6th grade Math textbook) -Saya’s Lunchbox (a Mystery Machine lunchbox containing these pretend items: pepperoni and cheese wrap,Handi-Snaks Cheese & Crackers,a Granny Smith Apple,and a pouch of Grape Kool-Aid Jammers juice) -Saya’s School Lunch (comes with these pretend items on a red tray: pepperoni french bread pizza,chef’s salad,fruit cocktail,and a carton of chocolate milk)

Holiday Collection: -Saya’s Christmas Present (copy of The Simpsons: Hit & Run for the Gamecube. Case only,comes with screenshots from the game) -Saya’s Pajamas (light blue Spongebob pajama top and pants) -Saya’s Christmas Breakfast (contains these pretend food items: stack of 3 blueberry pancakes with syrup and butter,two bacon strips,a sausage patty,and a large cup of apple juice) -Saya’s Nintendo Gamecube and games (console is Indigo purple,same for the Game Boy Player attachment. Cases only,comes with screenshots from these games: The Simpsons Road Rage,Pikmin,Animal Crossing,Super Smash Bros. Melee,Metroid Prime,Crash Bandicoot:The Wrath of Cortex,Billy Hatcher and the Giant Egg,Backyard Baseball,and Resident Evil 0) -Saya’s Caboodle (Limited Too GirlCare Caboodle,sparkly purple)

Birthday Collection (from her summer book): -Saya’s Birthday Cake (gold cake with chocolate frosting and a Pokemon decal reading Happy 12th birthday,Saya! on it) -Saya’s Japanese Jr. High Girls Uniform (belonged to her older sister,wasn’t worn much so it’s in like new condition) -Saya’s Gym Bag (for Jr. High next year,which begins at the end of her summer book,is Limited Too branded) -Saya’s Birthday Outfit (black and white polka dot skimp dress,navy blue leggings,and white and blue sneakers and white socks)

Summer Collection: -Saya’s DisneyQuest CD (the song she made was called When I Rule The World) -Saya’s Disney World haul (Disney World 2004 handbag,Lilo & Stitch plushie,and a Mickey Mouse hat) -Saya’s Splash Mountain picture (got after going on Splash Mountain. Her parents are in back,while she is sitting next to her brother. Her older sister is absent,as she couldn’t make it on the ride in time) -Saya’s Jaws the Ride Drawstring Bag (got this when her family went to Universal Studios in Orlando)

Winter Collection: -Saya’s Coat and Mittens (the coat is blue,the mittens are green) -Saya’s Snow Boots (the boots are pink and black) -Saya’s Sled (red sled) -Saya’s Cheering Uniform (long sleeve top and longer skirt,but close to knee length. The uniform is red and white and has Sanford on the front of the top)

Bedroom Collection: -Saya’s Bed and Bedding (twin bed with Pokemon bedding) -Saya’s Pajamas (silky Limited Too pajamas,purple) -Saya’s TV (Emerson TV with built-in DVD player. Her Gamecube can be attached to the front of the TV. TV does not function,has screenshots from these shows: The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy,Spongebob Squarepants,Codename Kids Next Door,and Evil con Carne) -Saya’s J-POP collection (comes with these CDs: Morning Musume First Time, Morning Musume Second Morning, Morning Musume 3rd: Love Paradise, Morning Musume No. 5, and Ayumi Hamasaki I Am...) (she was sent each CD from a friend in Japan) (the CDs play these songs: Ai no Tane, Memory Seishun no Hikari, Koi no Dance Site, Hey! Mirai, and Evolution) -Saya’s Boombox (blue,can play music from CDs she has) -Saya’s Game Boy Advance SP (navy blue,does not function,has Pocket Monsters Midori in the slot. Comes with screenshots from these games: Pokemon Red, Pokemon Yellow, Pokemon Silver, Pokemon Crystal, Pokemon Sapphire, Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town, and Tanbi Musō Meine Liebe)

Extra Clothes: -Saya’s Kimono (red kimono with flower blossoms and geta sandals)

Extra Accessories: -Saya’s “Big Day” Food Selection (food items are pretend,comes with these items: Sekihan red beans and rice in a bowl with chopsticks, Omurice, Tamago Kake Gohan in a red bowl with blue chopsticks, and a cup of water) (this was to celebrate Saya getting her first period,which happened in the middle of her Holiday book)

#american girl #american girl doll #American Girl dolls #american girl oc #american girl fan character

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starspangleydorito · 2 years ago

Video

youtube

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#youtube

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meleanorsslave · 1 year ago

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there isn’t anything i wouldn’t do for this woman. i would even take off my clothes and give her a private show to the tunes of her soul cause she’s all that i need and more. i would give birth to ten of her children without using any drugs to ease the pain, and then i would give her one more just because our love is that insane. there is not one thing that I would not do for my lover my best friend my honey my boo my mosh mosh my babygirl my pookie bear my discord mod my master my mommy my queen my princess. i can’t wait to meet her. there is no way levan pulled this queen, she's just everything the way i would bow down and kneel many times just for her is insane. hey, sorry i saw her profile and i just thought she looked cute in her picture. i really wanted to tell her that)) It's really rare to see girls dominating their loser husbands haha! I don't know why it's a lesbian thing honestly im like really against misogyny and like ill be the one in the kitchen making sandwiches. We should really play l4d2 sometime its a really cool zombie game with a lot of scary moments, but don't worry ill be there to protect her ;) sorry that wasnt flirtring i swear im just trying to be friendly i really like her profile picture sorry was that too far? Really sorry i'm really shy i don't go out much haha add me on skype we should talk she looks really nice and fun xxx *jaw drops tongue rolls out* WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF *tongue bursts out of the mouth uncontrollably leaking face and everything in reach* WURBLWUBRLBWURblrwurblwurlbrwubrlwburlwbruwrlblwublr *tiny cupid shoots an arrow through heart* Ahhhhhhhhhhh me lady... *heart in the shape of a heart starts beating so hard you can see it through shirt* ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum *milk truck crashes into a bakery store in the background spiling white liquid and dough on the streets* BABY WANTS TO FUCK *inhales from the gas tank* honka honka honka honka WHOA MAMA! HUMMINA HUMMINA HUMMINA! BAZOOOOOOIING eyes bulge out of head and shoot forward at 120 mph AROOOOOOOOOOOOGA jaw drops to the floor, tongue rolls out a foot forward HAWT MAMA! punches self in face with boxing glove five times HOOLEY DOOLEY pulls on train whistle that has appeared beside head as steam blows out EEE-AW EEE-AW pulls out comically large carton of milk, drinks all of it spilling it everywhere GUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUH wolf whistle AROOOOOOOOOOO AROOOOOOOO tiny cupid shoots an arrow through heart ARF ARF ARF ARF rubs ass on ground like dog WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF eyes turn into slot machine slots WOWZA! tapdancing sounds, running in a circle JEEPERS HEEPERS pants like dog, rips off pants, heart in the shape of a heart starts beating so hard you can see it through shirt BA-BUM BA-BUM BA-BUM BA-BUM BA-BUM slams fists on table rattling any silverware or plates DUUUUUUHHHH bashes own head with hammer 5 times BONK BONK BONK BONK BONK slams chair on table BWOOOAAGHHHH old-timey car horn sound, tongue straightens out like wooden board, eyes go out of skull and back in like paddleballs CHUGGA CHUGGA CHUGGA CHUGGA fireworks shoot from top of head PHWOAARRR sniffs air loudly, nostrils become comically large HONKA HONKA HONKA HONKA sound of mouth harp as body is straightened out, floating a foot above the ground JEEZ LOUISE propeller spins on hat comically WOWEEE gets massive erection, tries to aggressively push it back down into pants OINKA OINKA pulls out massive drum, starts beating it excessively HUBBA HUBBA HUBBA HUBBA jumps on table, smashes through table and ground, springs back upward at an incredible velocity HOOOLY MOOOOLY pupils fly away from eyes, eyes snap forward towards them OOOOOOH I'M DYYYYYYYYYYIIN' fucking dies, ghost goes out of corpse with a lyre, body pulls ghost back into body WHADDA DAAAAME starts foaming at the mouth HUUUUUUUURRRRRR furiously turns crank on machine that hits hands on table GRRRR BARK BARK BARK head unscrews and starts rotating BUH-DOOIIOIOIOING starts rattling like a jar of coins, suspended half a metre in the air

dragon princess of my heart

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #meleanor draconia #diasomnia #twst spoilers

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naina9953 · 4 days ago

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Why Choose Gravure Printing Machines for High-Quality Output

Gravure printing is often referred to as the Rolls Royce of printing. Its reach, sharp images, and brilliant colors combine to make it perfect for any high capacity work. As one of the prominent suppliers, UV Graphic offers gravure printing machineries suited for sectors such as packaging, publication and decorative printing among others. These machines perform excellently, allow faster speeds without any drop in quality.

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Such kind of machines are widely used in the packing sector for making flexible pouches, wrappers and carton boxes. Also in publishing in case of printing magazines and catalogs and in the decorative printing of wallpapers and laminates. With the introduction of the latest technology, UV Graphic makes ensures the efficient production process without compromising on the quality through the global standards.

Riding on guidelines of innovation and environmental protection, UV Graphic’s gravure printing machines help companies retain excellent performance while conserving resources making it impossible for them not to compete in the printing business.

#curing machine manufacturer #uv curing systems #Gravure Printing Machines Manufacturer

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perfectgroupindia123 · 5 days ago

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Enhance Packaging Strength With A Box Compression Tester

Source of Info: https://www.perfectgroupindia.co.in/blog/enhance-packaging-strength-with-a-box-compression-tester

Introduction

A box compression tester is an important instrument to measure the strength and durability of packaging materials, especially cardboard boxes and cartons. This testing tool helps producers in figuring out the heaviest weight a box can support before collapsing, guaranteeing that packaging can endure the pressures of arranging them, transporting, and storing goods. Durable packaging is necessary for protecting goods, avoiding harm, and preserving client satisfaction. Businesses can improve packaging design, reduce product damage costs, and guarantee industry requirements are met by employing a Box Compression Meter. This will ultimately result in customers receiving their orders in excellent condition.

What Is A Box Compression Tester?

A specialized testing tool called a Box Compression Tester is used to measure the compressive strength of packaging materials, especially cardboard boxes, cartons, and other corrugated packaging. The test provides producers with important information about a box's load-bearing capability by measuring the maximum force that it can handle before collapsing or deforming.

Manufacturers can determine whether their packaging can withstand the stresses involved with stacking, shipping, and handling by using the data obtained from these testing. Businesses can reduce the chance of damaged goods by making sure the packaging is able to resist these stresses.

Why Packaging Strength Matters

Packaging enhances customer satisfaction and brand image while serving as a protective shell. Products that arrive in bad condition because of inadequate packaging can be returned, cost more to transport, and harm the brand's reputation. Testing the strength of packaging materials has become important.

The Main Reasons Why Packaging Quality Is Important Are:

Product Safety: Robust packaging guarantees product safety by reducing the risk of damage occurring during storage and transportation.

Customer Satisfaction: Products that are delivered in good shape improve consumer satisfaction and promote brand loyalty.

Cost Savings: Preventing damaged items reduces the costs needed with returns, refunds, and replacement.

Compliance with Regulations: Many companies have packing strength requirements, especially when working with fragile or risky products.

Sustainability: Companies can reduce overpacking, cut down on waste material consumption, and support sustainable development by improving package strength.

How A Box Compression Tester Works

The Box Compression Tester is a very basic device. It is made out of a platform on which the box is set and a moveable plate that presses the box downward. Until the box starts to compress or collapse, the machine progressively raises the force. It is noted how much force the box can withstand before breaking.

The Testing Process Involves These Steps:

Preparation: The packaging or box is ready for examination. This involves putting the box together the way it would be used normally and making sure the seal is secure.

Placement: The box is set up on the platform for testing.

Compression Test: The tester measures the box's strength by applying downward force at a constant rate.

Result Analysis: The maximum force that the box can withstand is recorded. Manufacturers can measure the packaging's strength and durability with the use of this information.

Advantages Of Using A Box Compression Tester

Using a box compression tester provides various benefits, particularly for manufacturers and packaging suppliers that need to guarantee that their packing satisfies regulations.

1. Accurate Load-Bearing Information

The tester gives accurate information on the weight capacity of the package. This is especially important for arranged products in warehouses and during shipment, where boxes are frequently built on top of one another. Safe stacking and collapse prevention are guaranteed by knowing the maximum load capacity.

2. Improved Packaging Design

Manufacturers are able to improve the design of their packaging by using the data collected from the tests. For example, if the findings indicate that the box has no way to support the required weight, the material can be improved or the design changed to create more durable packaging.

3. Reduced Costs

Strong packaging reduces the risk of product damage, resulting in fewer returns and replacements. Additionally, organizations may avoid over-engineering their boxes and save money on materials without compromising safety by understanding the exact strength of the packing.

Applications Of The Box Compression Tester

There are numerous uses for the Box Compression Tester across multiple industries. It is particularly useful for:

E-Commerce: Strong packaging is necessary for online businesses who frequently deal with long-distance shipping in order to guarantee that their products arrive to their clients undamaged.

Logistics and Warehousing: Goods must be able to resist the pressure of being placed on top of one another in warehouses or during shipping.

Food and Beverage: Durable packaging is important for the food and beverage sector's ability to keep goods fresh and safe during transit.

Pharmaceuticals: Pharmaceuticals frequently require strong packaging to safeguard fragile or affected by temperature items.

Factors Impacting Packaging Strength

The following variables should be taken into account when determining packing materials as they can affect their compression strength:

Material Quality: The strength of the packaging will be greatly impacted by the kind of corrugated or cardboard that is used.

Box Size and Design: Larger boxes may have more surface area, resulting in greater experience with pressure. Strength is also affected by the box's design, including if it has extra layers or protections.

Environmental Conditions: Temperature and humidity have a tendency to damage packaging materials over time, thus it's important to take these factors into account in practical applications.

Stacking Method: The results of compression testing can be affected by the uneven distribution of load caused by the way products are arranged.

Choosing The Right Box Compression Tester

When selecting a Box Compression Tester, it is important to select an instrument that meets your packaging requirements. Here are some important things to think about:

Load Capacity: The instrument should be able to test your packaging's maximum load capacity.

Precision: Choose a tester that produces accurate, accurate results for dependable data.

Ease of Use: The testing should be simple to use, with simple software for analyzing results and clear instructions.

Durability: The instrument should be durable and designed to withstand continuous usage, particularly in high-production conditions.

Conclusion

A Box Compression Tester offers a dependable, accurate way to make sure your packing is capable of resisting the pressures of handling, shipping, and stacking. In today's rapid industry, where product safety and customer happiness are critical, having strong, durable packaging is important. Businesses can enhance the strength of their packaging, improve product safety, reduce expenses, and guarantee consumer pleasure by using this important tool. Advanced testing solutions for a variety of industries are expertly provided by Perfect Group India. Our advanced technology guarantees the accuracy, safety, and quality of our products, making us a reliable partner in quality control.

#perfectgroupindia #industrial #testingtools #manufacturing

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