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7-wonders · 1 year ago

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It's Just a Bunch of Hocus Pocus!

Summary: It's Halloweekend, and you've got a couple of parties to attend! Morpheus, who missed out on the development of Halloween into the holiday it is today, is very curious about what your plans are.

Word count: 1.8k

And now, a note from the author: Ahhh Claire actually managed to write something! I loved coming up with and writing this; I was giggling the entire time. As always, if you enjoyed, likes, comments, and reblogs (but especially the last two!) make my world go round. If you didn't like it, also let me know! I'm always down to hear constructive feedback/criticism—it's how we become better writers.

Though reader is wearing a skirt, the gender of reader is not specified! If you're non-binary or a guy and you wouldn't mind dressing up in a skirt for a group costume, I hope you enjoy this fic too!

It’s not often that Dream of the Endless visits you in your realm, instead of vice versa. While he had met you in the Waking, he had never been entirely comfortable there. That feeling, that wrongness, only increased tenfold after his imprisonment at the hands of Roderick Burgess. No, Morpheus is not overly fond of the Waking.

Tonight, however, he’s here, and you have a pretty good inkling as to why.

Though Morpheus would never admit it, hearing you talk helps to calm him down when he’s feeling stressed (another thing he would never admit to: stress). After a frustrating day of holding court—one of his least favorite things to do, but one that was integral to the functioning of his realm—you decided that telling him about your plans for the week would be a bland enough topic where he would not have to actually listen to your words, but simply your voice. Your plan seemed to be working; you could feel his body relaxing in your arms, and you had never been more relieved to hear the absentminded hums of someone who was only half-listening to a conversation.

At some point, you mentioned that you were excited about the Halloween parties that you would be attending. That got his attention, drawing him out of the reverie that your voice and your fingers carding through his hair had lulled him into. He shifted in your hold, his black pools of stars looking up at you curiously.

“All Hallows’ Eve is not for another week though, yes?” he asked.

“Yeah, but it’s during the week this year, which means everybody celebrates the weekend before.”

“Why not celebrate on the day itself? Traditionally, Samhain is a very important holiday.”

Now the miscommunication made sense in your mind. It was only natural that he still thought of the holiday as what it was before 1916. “Oh! Halloween has evolved a lot, especially in the past hundred years. It doesn’t really resemble the Samhain of old.”

He still looks a little confused but nods. “How interesting. So you will also be participating in these…festivities early?”

“Festivities” was a good way to put it, and you decided to just leave it at that. How the hell else were you supposed to explain to your eons-old, all-powerful boyfriend that the Halloween of today is about wearing a fun/sexy costume, doing spooky activities like haunted houses or watching scary movies, and partying?

“Yep!” you said. “I have plans with friends; we’re going to wear our costumes and go celebrate with others.”

“What will your costume be?”

“I’m not quite sure yet. I have a couple of different ones, so I’ll probably decide the day of.”

That interest in modern Halloween, specifically how you celebrate Halloween, is why you’re not really all that surprised when you hear him call your name from the other side of the bathroom door while you’re taking a shower.

“In here, my love!” You just barely have to raise your voice, knowing that he’ll still hear you above the sound of water raining down. The bathroom door opens, and you stick your head out of the shower curtain. You very happily accept the kiss that he offers you. “Hi.”

“Hello.” His voice, deep and as smooth as dark chocolate, rumbles through your ears in a way that you’ll never tire of. It’s impossible to resist giving him one more kiss (can you be blamed?), so you give in to the temptation.

“Give me five minutes and then I’ll be done, okay?”

Though it’s very reluctant, he does part from you. It takes you a little less than that to finish with your shower, and you open the door again so that you can at least be in the same space as Morpheus while you hurriedly put some makeup on (thankfully your costume doesn’t require anything drastic beyond what you normally wear). He’s sitting patiently on your bed, eyes already trained on you as you move through your getting-ready routine.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “You almost never visit me in the Waking.”

You’re teasing him, since, as previously mentioned, you know exactly why he’s here. Naturally, Morpheus doesn’t catch on. “I wished to see you off before your Hallowe’en celebration.”

“That’s sweet of you!” To the bedroom you go, where your costume sits waiting atop your dresser. “I’m just about ready to go, I only need to finish putting my costume on.”

Morpheus’s face grows flushed at the easy compliment you give him (you don’t think he’s ever been called ‘sweet’) and you laugh quietly before disappearing back through the bathroom with costume in tow.

A couple of months ago, two of your friends decided that being the Powerpuff Girls was the move for this Halloween and roped you into the idea. One of your friends, a natural blonde, claimed Bubbles before the idea could even fully be discussed. Your other friend was very excited to be a bearded Blossom and wear a giant bow on his head. This left Buttercup for you to dress up as, not that you were complaining.

Now, you’re sliding into a green crop top and a matching green skirt, this piece being made out of a shiny material. All three of your skirts are the same fabric (and definitely shorter than what’s considered decent), with the shirts being dealer’s choice. You finish your outfit off with black tights and a black headband—Bubbles is also wearing black tights, while Blossom will be sporting black knee-highs. All in all, it’s a pretty simple costume, but sometimes, that’s what the best costumes are.

You emerge from the bathroom once more and do a little twirl for Morpheus, whose eyes immediately light up. “This is very much a pop culture reference, so I’m not expecting you to understand the costume. Still, I think it turned out pretty good!”

Morpheus is not a man—the anthropomorphic personification of the collective unconscious, the Lord of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm, simply chooses this as his favored form. Still, he is a man-shaped being, and like all man-shaped beings, he goes a little wild for the object of his affection in a short skirt.

“You will be wearing this in public?” he asks, standing up and approaching you.

Morpheus has lived for as long as beings have been able to dream. He quite literally lived through the Beginning when Adam and Eve didn’t know what clothes were, as well as a number of empires for whom clothing was merely a suggestion. The affront he’s showing at the clothes you’re wearing must be some sort of code for “this is my partner wearing something I consider sexy and I’m feeling possessive about other people seeing them.” That he looks at you as though you’re wearing the barest scraps of clothing and not dressing up as a cartoon superhero has you feeling mighty powerful.

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t turn you on a little bit.

“This is tame compared to what a lot of other people wear,” you inform him.

Morpheus does not look as though he’s listening. No, he’s focused on your body rather than your words. One hand rests on your waist to pull you closer to him, and the other hand comes to rest on your upper thigh where the skirt ends. He rubs the skirt between his thumb and index finger as though he’s testing the fabric.

“Am I correct in assuming that costumes are no longer worn to disguise the wearer from errant spirits?”

“Yes, you’re correct.” Right now though, explaining the traditions of Halloween is not important to you. You need some validation, and stat. “But do you like it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Thank you,” you say smugly, smacking his hand as he tries to slip it higher under your skirt. “Not tonight. I have to meet up with the gang soon!”

“Might I make a suggestion?”

You nod. No matter how outlandish the suggestion, you’d listen to him make it, and you’d probably take it into strong consideration.

Morpheus places a delicate kiss on your jaw before he trails his lips to your ear. “Forget about your friends and stay with me for the evening,” he whispers seductively.

Oh, but that is tempting. You can already imagine the way in which Morpheus would remove your costume, the feeling of his hands on your body as he makes you forget about anything outside of you and him and the pleasure you bring each other. From the darkened look he gives you, he’s already picked up on these daydreams, and he’s in total agreement of that order of events.

Unfortunately, your brain, that traitorous organ, reminds you of why you shouldn’t be absconding to the Dreaming with your lover.

You sigh in frustration at the logic and lean your forehead against his. “I would, but I’ve had these plans for a couple of weeks now, and I really am looking forward to them.”

Though it very obviously pains Morpheus to say it, he does agree. “Yes, I suppose it would be…rude to abandon them.”

“I should probably go,” you say begrudgingly, pulling away from him and focusing intently on gathering what you’ll need so that you don’t give in to your desire.

Morpheus watches as you whirl around the room, muttering the name of each item as you grab them. Your phone is annoyingly elusive, and you think you’ll just have to go without it until it’s dangled in front of you by your Dreamlord. Gratefully, you take it from him.

“Thank you,” you say sheepishly. That’s the last of your belongings, but you feel like you can stall just a bit longer. He’s heard about your plans, but you haven’t heard of his. “What will you do while I’m gone?”

“Wait for you to return to my embrace once more,” he teases.

“Please try to do something instead of moping the whole time.”

“I do not mope!”

You give him a look, one that says you see right through this charade. “Yes. You do. I’m sure there’s a new book you’ll want to read. Maybe ask Lucienne what she’s been working on, or start creating a new nightmare?”

“Are you not going to be late?” Morpheus deflects. It makes you laugh, but he is right, so you do a once-over of your room to make sure you’re not missing anything and kiss him briefly.

“Bye. I love you.”

“I love you as well, my starlight. You remember how to call for me should you run into trouble?” Of course you do: write down his name and speak it. It’s cute of him to act like he won’t try to have Matthew follow you, though.

You can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture. “Yes, I remember. I’ll be fine, okay?”

He nods, satisfied. “I shall see you later, then.”

You’re able to sneak in one more kiss before he’s off and you’re heading to your front door, already counting down the hours until your night of partying is over. Who knew dressing up like a Powerpuff Girl could get someone so hot and heavy?

If Morpheus thinks that’s attractive, just wait until he sees the angel costume you’re wearing tomorrow.

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus imagine #dream of the endless imagine #the sandman

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iamprchung · 10 months ago

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The Spider and the FBI: Part 7 "Paradise Syndrome"

Synopsis by guest writer Jose Chung (written prior to his apparent death at the hands of the Nostradamus Nutball):

Now, grab your Stetsons, conspiracy cowboys, 'cause we're moseying on over to Elmo, Wyoming. Here, amidst the questionable barbeque and dazzling fireworks of the 4th of July festivities, we find Agent Scully embroiled in a situation more perplexing than a malfunctioning weather balloon.

In strides Sheriff Lawrence Durokoff, a man carved from the same government-issue granite as Assistant Director Skinner, only with a grin brighter than a chrome bumper on a brand-new pickup truck. Was it a case of cloning gone wrong? Or perhaps long-lost twins separated by, well, let's just say a misplaced birth certificate (we can delve into government conspiracies all day, but identical twins are a stretch even for this jaded scribe).

The truth, as always, is stranger than the wildest fan fiction. The undeniable spark between Scully and Sheriff Durokoff has tongues wagging about a future filled with calico dresses and prairie sunburns instead of chasing shadows in the bureaucratic labyrinth. Is our favorite redhead about to trade her badge for a butter churn? Only time, and perhaps a strategically placed horseshoe (it's a small town, after all) will tell!

Notes: Yes, I sure did title this after a Star Trek episode.

"Paradise Syndrome"

Part VIII of "The Spider and the FBI"

by PR Chung

Preface/Notes:

Just reading through this, even after all these years, I recognize exactly where one of my very best friends and amazing author assisted with this story. I know her work is still out there somewhere as she was one of the originals in the X-Files fiction fandom, authoring stories that are still amazing. None other than the very talented Paula B. Her ability to turn a phrase cannot be surpassed, and it’s a joy to read passages I know she helped on.

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

Elmo, Wyoming July 4th

By the time she hung up the phone from her conversation with Mulder, Scully's hair was nearly dry from her shower. She got up from the bed and went to the window, drawing back the curtains of her hotel room to look out on the street below.

Nothing much had changed except for the layer of increasing smoke drifting up through the trees from the square. How many barbecues were going? She wondered. And what were they cooking? Burgers and hot dogs? Roasting corn snugly rolled in foil? Brisket and ribs, too?

Her stomach gurgled.

Trying to remember the last meal she'd eaten she turned to go check on her blouse. It was hanging to dry in the bathroom after a lame attempt to clean it in the porcelain basin. It was a very nice bathroom, just not very functional.

The entire room was very nice, as was the whole hotel. Small and quaint, just a few rooms sitting atop a gift shop and cafe. Heavy in small town charm and light on the amenities; a bed, chest of drawers, mirror, and nightstand. No television, no radio, and the phone had to be brought up specially for her room, as had the one taken into Skinner's room down the hall.

His would undoubtedly be of heavier use than hers she presumed as she touched the still damp fabric of her blue blouse. He wasn't pleased in the least about either the situation or the location, and he apparently wanted out as fast as humanly possible.

He had been on the phone at the Sheriff's station the entire time it took to get Bernstein squared away in the holding cell. There was nothing but skeleton crews of federal workers manning the phones in Denver and Salt Lake City. Calling Washington hadn't been much help either; apparently all he had gotten was an ear full of instructions to get Bernstein back there for trial- come hell or high water.

Sure, they could get a flight out of Laramie or Cheyenne in the morning or even tonight if they were lucky enough that the agents from the Casper field operation should show up. But things were looking ugly up there, suspicion of terrorism and arrests sparking upset among the jingoistic masses. It was just another unpleasant federal incident in the making.

Aside from becoming another bout of bad press for the bureau, this whole Casper thing had gummed up the works, delaying agents that Mulder had needed, and now, still, those she and Skinner needed.

Mulder could have gone forever, and would have, if she hadn't interrupted his denunciation of every federal employee he had dealt with during the last twenty-four hours. She could tell he hadn't slept by just the shear amount of information he was trying to pack into a single conversation followed by a spate of questions.

She was sure there would be more questions when he finally arrived in a few hours. After muttering something about manic helicopter pilots, he had said was going to drive to Elmo, which concerned her if he hadn't slept, but once Mulder was set on doing something there was generally no swaying him from it.

A sudden resonant sound of a band practicing drew her attention back to the street below her hotel window, where she caught sight of Sheriff Durokoff.

Self-consciously she took a step back from the window not wanting to be discovered in just her bra. At a careful distance from the window, she watched him across the street and stop there in the shade, talking pleasantly with others.

The sound started up again, a guitar... being tested on an amplifier. Curious, she searched through the trees trying to see, hearing the strong chords of a bluesy country-rock song she couldn't name being played by fits and starts.

The trees were just too thick. She couldn't see a thing and gave up and turned back to look at more interesting things— He was gone. The people he'd been talking to were still there, mulling around and talking, but Durokoff was gone.

Crap. She'd see more of him later, but it was unlikely she would get another chance to covertly study him at length, to examine the similarities between him and Skinner.

His cousin, she concerned. How bizarre, she thought and smiled. Of all the towns they should end up in, after all they had gone through, they just happen to hit the one tiny patch of earth containing another Skinner- or rather a Durokoff. Their mothers were sisters undoubtedly, or perhaps a remarriage had caused the difference in names. She analyzed the possible branches of genealogy.

Like an impression of the sun Durokoff's smile was emblazoned on her retinas. He wasn't the consummate small town, no non-sense Sheriff, all bluster, and intimidation when it came to federal involvement.

He didn't like Bernstein, and he had been to the point with the man, swiftly locking him away in the blunt bowels of the Elmo holding cells, but during the entire time at the Sheriff's station he had still managed to be cheerful and lighthearted. She thought she'd even seen him give her a quick wink at one point.

The un-Skinner, she thought and nearly laughed out loud.

Not completely, though, the similarities remained, and were so great in certain respects that she had found herself deferring to Durokoff the same as if he were Skinner. A certain turn of a phrase, a look, a motion, everything about him stirred an almost constant sense of surprise and amusement in her.

Two Skinner's could be a rather daunting concept for some, but it didn't seem like such a bad idea to her.

A solid knocking sounded at the door of her room yanked her out of that thought, audibly startling her.

"Agent Scully?" a muffled voice called through the door, concerns seeping through the woodgrain.

"Just a minute," she called, rushing to grab her top.

Lawrence Durokoff stood in the hall listening to the muffled scurrying sounds beyond the door, arched his brows. Perhaps she wasn't alone in there, he thought and glanced down the hall toward his cousin's room which he'd discovered was empty only a moment before he tried her room.

"Is there a problem?" Durokoff turned at the sound of Skinner's voice. He was coming down the hall from the stairs, his eyes pinched and his jaw set.

"No. No problem here." He answered taking a step back from the door to address Skinner. Well, he wasn't in there. So, what's going on?

The door jerked open suddenly, a flush faced Scully looked back at the two men. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, questions pooling.

"Uh, hi." She greeted the two of them, holding the hem of her blouse out and away from herself, it was still damp and almost transparent when it contacted her body. "Is something wrong?" She finally asked when neither one of them spoke.

“You two sure are shellshocked.” He commented, glancing amusedly between the two of them. “Nothing wrong,” he told her, and glanced at Skinner, “and no problems.”

Durokoff held out a small satchel to Scully. "I had one of the deputies gather some things together for you," he explained as she took.

"Thank you," Scully said glancing inside it to see what appeared at first glance to be a tee shirt still in the plastic packaging, a hairbrush, and a few basic items of make-up.

Skinner averted his gaze from the scene shifting the plastic bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. Durokoff glanced back at his cousin holding out another bag, a half-sized duffel. "I got some clothes for you and some shaving stuff."

Skinner's hand went to his face, feeling the growth of beard stubble. What a pig he must have looked like, he ruefully thought and glanced at Scully. "Thanks."

The sound of music drifted into the hall through Scully's room from outside; a hearty rendition of Bad Moon Rising being played in the square.

"Well, uh," Durokoff muttered planting his hands on his hips, looking between the two of them. "I guess you've figured out there's a little party starting outside. There's plenty of food and music," he made a brief gesture toward the sound of the music past Scully's shoulder. "I've come to extend the official Elmo invitation for you both to join us."

Scully's stomach gurgled urging her to accept the invitation.

* "... I see the bad moon a rising. I see trouble on the way..." *

Skinner spoke before she could. "Food sounds great, but I don't think we should get distracted. We're still on duty here."

"No distractions," Durokoff said and grinned. "Just good food. I've got plenty of people keeping an eye on that Bernstein joker, so you can stop worrying about him. Just come on down to the square when you're ready and make yourselves at home."

* "... I see bad times on their way..."*

"I may just rest some." Skinner said quietly.

Speak for yourself, Scully thought. "I'd be happy to sample the local flavor. I can't remember my last real meal."

* "I know the end is coming soon..." *

"Great," Durokoff blurted, zealously slapping his hands together. "I'll see you down there, Agent Scully." He said and turned to go, saying to his cousin as he went, "I hope you'll come down, too, once you get some rest, Walter."

* "...don't go 'round tonight... It's bound to take your life..." *

"Here," Skinner said, unceremoniously extending a plastic bag to Scully.

She blinked pulling her gaze off his departing cousin. "What's this?" She asked, taking the bag.

"A toothbrush and paste." He answered already halfway to his room down the hall.

"Thank you..." she leaned out the door calling back to him, but his door had already shut, leaving her alone in the hall.

Back inside her room, she picked through the duffel finding a new tee-shirt, boasting a silk screen print that read 'Second Annual 4th of July Celebration, Elmo, Wyoming'. She frowned reading it.

Only their second? She wondered and moved on to inspect the rest of the items. The mascara would work fine and the lipstick too if she only dabbed it on, it was just a little too dark for her taste, but the blush would have to go, it was far too red.

Grateful for necessities, she snatched up the brush and plastic bag, heading to the bathroom. Her hair was frightful. Could she get it to behave even if she did re-wet it and brush it straight out? No beauty contest is going on that I know of right now, she told herself, yanking first paste from the plastic bag, then the toothbrush— and stopped.

She looked at it, confused at first by what she saw. Turning the brush over in she found a small decal stamped on the handle; a little stagecoach in motion with a name drifting behind it like dust from the wheels. The name wasn't Dana, though... It was Kate.

She looked at that a second before she realized and glanced back, her thoughts on the room down the hall. Dana wasn’t a common name emblazoned on any gift shop trinket. She looked down at the toothbrush.

He’d gotten the next closest.

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

The when the music began Skinner opened his eyes, hearing the chords that were undeniably familiar aside from the performers’ ad-libbing. Before finally getting up to go to the window, he laid on the bed listening to the guitar playing down in the square wrenching out Sleepwalk.

It wasn't great, but it was close, he critiqued pulling back the gossamer curtains to look out. Anyway, the slower, more sedate sounds were a nice break from the honky tonkin,’ rambunctious stuff they'd been playing for the last hour.

He would have liked to have blamed his inability to sleep on the music, but he doubted he could have slept if he were in a soundproof room with no windows. There was just too much weighing on his mind to allow sleep to come easily. There was still no call from the special agent in charge up in Casper, no word on when they could expect more agents. At least Mulder was on his way, that fact, in the strangest of ways helped ease his concerns in some.

Once he got there, they could continue on to Laramie, get Bernstein drugged to the hilt and on a plane and back to DC by Monday at the latest. That would still give them a day before the arraignment hearing and get the federal prosecutor and Attorney General out of his hair.

Skinner chuckled to himself. If ever there was a figure of speech...

A glimpse of red drew his attention to the street below. There walked one of his other concerns: Scully was heading across to the town square.

Damn.

From out of the cover of the trees came Lawrence, a huge smile plastered across his face.

And there came the next concern.

Of all the damn places to end up in why the hell did they have to end up here? Eighteen years of peace shattered in a single day. Peace, yes, but not complete disconnection. There had always been word floating through the family about who was doing what and where they were.

He had known when Lawrence finally made Sheriff here, he'd actually been invited to a party to celebrate the event. He knew it hurt Aunt Anne and Bulah when he didn't respond. He had been busy, and just didn't feel like dealing with it again.

Skinner watched as two boys scurried between Scully and Lawrence, almost bumping into her as they went. He watched Scully laugh about it and talk cheerfully as Lawrence guided her into the park, disappearing beyond the thick canopy of tree branches.

His heart sank almost in time with the lamenting cry of the guitar playing. Too much time had passed, he thought, but things hadn't changed much...

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

Norwalk, Ohio December 1st, 1963

There just wasn’t a whole lot to do, and all the adults were still shuffling around, overwhelmed by the news out of Dallas a little over a week before. It felt like the world, at least their part of it had come to stand still after the news of the president’s assassination.

Heavy and silent, the day pressed in around two small figures scuffing through turned leaves. It was Sunday after Thanksgiving, not much to do between the time Church was done and time for supper, except track around in the woods, down by trestle and maybe, if luck were good, a train would pass on its way into Cedar Point.

But come tomorrow, Monday was going to be the start of a whole new experience...

"Will there be a lot of girls there?"

"Sure will. Who do you think we're gonna dance with, Walter, each other?"

Walter pulled the collar of his red plaid coat up closer to his neck, shivering against the sudden cold breeze. "But a lot of them?" he asked, concerned.

"I don't know," Lawrence looked at him closely, "why, are you scared?"

Walter shrugged and stuffed his hands deep in the warmth of his Tuff-Skin pockets. "No. I was just wondering."

"I think you're scared. You're scared of the girls." Lawrence began to laugh. Walter blushed making his cousin laugh even harder. "Cubby's afraid of the girls."

"I'm not. And stop calling me that stupid name."

"Cubby, Cubby, Cubby." He chanted, jogging in a circle around Walter.

"I don't even look like that kid, knock it off!" Walter hauled off and shoved Lawrence knocking him off balance.

"You got the ears."

"So, what if I have mouse ears? You've got that stupid coonskin hat, and I know your cat gave it fleas cause you're always scratching your head when you wear it!"

"I don't scratch my head!" Lawrence proclaimed, his voice cracking hard. "And I wasn't talkin'bout your dumb Mickey Mouse ears. I meant your ears!"

"So! You scratch your head so much you're gonna scratch all your hair off and then see how many girls you dance with."

"You're dumb." Lawrence spat shoving Walter.

"You're stupid." Walter spat back, regaining his balance.

"You're fat."

The comment fell on deaf ears, Walter wasn't listening to his cousin, something else had caught his attention, a rustling sound close by. Lawrence tried shoving him again, but Walter didn't budge, he remained steady and fixed on the sound. "Cut it out... Listen..." he said, adjusting his glasses.

Lawrence listened, hearing the sound he frowned. "What is that?"

Walter shook his head and started forward, following the rustling.

They walked carefully though the brittle layer of leaves covering the ground, listening intently, checking the bare trees around them for some sign of what the sound was.

"There," Lawrence blurted, his arm shooting straight out from his body as he pointed toward the trees ahead of them. "It's a kite!"

"It was a kite," Walter corrected his cousin who had started for the tree the tattered kite was caught in.

"Oh, wow, look," Lawrence excitedly called out when he peered up at the object. "It's not torn or nothing, look, Walter. Look."

Walter stepped up next to him, peering up. "Nope. It's not torn or nothing."

"Wow."

"But it's also up a tree."

Without a word Lawrence reached up and grabbed a low branch in each hand.

"What are you doing?" Walter sounded more accusatory than he did inquiring.

"I'm gonna get it."

"It's just junk, Lawrence." He told him and shook his head when he saw that he wasn't being listened to.

Lawrence struggled up through the bare branches, losing purchase several times as deader ones broke off under his weight, but somehow managing to only go higher rather than fall back down. It wouldn't be long though...

"You're gonna fall. You better not go any higher!" Walter yelled; his neck bent back until it hurt now to see his cousin. How high was he going go before he would see that kite was just junk, all busted up and worthless?

"I got it!" Lawrence shouted triumphantly.

Walter watched as he waved the ragged kite before him like some trophy for endurance and strength.

It was about then a loud crack sounded.

Clear and loud, like bones cracking, the branch Lawrence was resting his butt on breaking cut through the chilly air.

Walter saw the look in Lawrence's eyes when he realized things had gone very bad- black and huge with fear. He shrieked and Walter thought he sounded like a girl in the instant before his cousin plummeted through the branches and crashed to the ground on his side.

He lay there on his side; his back curved like a hula-hoop and his legs turned in crazy angles that didn't look right at all. His mouth was moving but there was no sound, he was sucking air in, and his eyes were squeezed shut so hard Walter couldn't see his eyelashes when he got up close.

"Holy smokes! Are you all right? Are you all right?"

Finally, and with an intensity like Walter had never heard in his life, a horrible noise came out of Lawrence's mouth: a ragged scream that degenerated into a gut-wrenching bawling. "My legs," he screamed, blood and snot trickling from his nose. "It hurts! It hurts! Walter, help me! Oh, God it hurts!"

"I told you!" Walter screamed, his breath beginning to hitch with frightened sobs. "I told you! Why didn't you listen to me?"

"Please- it hurts!"

Freezing air ripping at his lungs Walter tore through the woods, crashing toward Lawrence's house.

Walter Skinner didn't believe he had ever run harder or faster in his life than he had that afternoon.

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

Elmo, Wyoming 4th of July 1999

"Here you go," Durokoff declared, sounding a little breathless as he reappeared from the crowd, waving a handful of napkins.

Scully almost laughed at the inordinate amount of napkins he'd brought back to the table.

"I know I wasn't that messy," she said as he sat back down opposite her at the picnic table.

He watched her take a napkin from the pile and begin to wipe the barbecue sauce from her chin, noticing the dab she'd dropped on her tee shirt. "I don't know," he said grinning at her, "maybe I should have brought back a bib, too."

Scully looked down, gasping at the blotch of red sauce on herself. "I can't believe I've turned into such a mess."

"Ribs are messy business," he said handing her another fist full of napkins.

She laughed, feeling embarrassed. She had been half starved but attempted good manners, yet good manners went out the window when it came to barbecued ribs. She knew she should have stuck with the hot dogs.

"Barbecue in general is a messy business," she commented, demurely dabbing at her shirt.

"That's what makes it fun." Scully looked at him, struck by the strong and cheerful sound of his familiar voice. He looked back at her with kind brown eyes she thought she knew and had to remind herself that she didn’t know this man at all. "I think you missed a little..." He told her, gesturing first at her face then his own, brushing at his own upper lip.

Scully wiped at her mouth again, another wave of chagrin passing over her.

"Uh, it's..." he stammered a little again gesturing at her mouth and beginning to sound frustrated. "It's still..." Scully frowned, growing annoyed by her inability to find this stray smear of barbecue sauce he kept pointing at. "Uh, here," he said leaning over the table enough to hesitantly wipe her lip with another napkin. He stopped, pulling his hand back to look at her quizzically before he confusedly said, "it's not coming off?"

"Huh?" Then she realized and her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh... Well, it's not going to be coming off, either, not without laser surgery, unfortunately." Durokoff's expression was beginning to take on that cast that Skinner more than often got when he didn't quite get something. "It's a mole," she explained and went back to pick at the ribs on her paper plate.

"Unfortunately?" He questioned her choice of words. "Don't you like it?"

"No," she said emphasizing the word by pursing her lips. "I usually cover it up."

"It's darling," he declared. She raised her eyes to give him a dubious look. He wasn't making it any better and she hoped her expression communicated the fact. "Why would you cover it up?"

Apparently her expression did not phase the man. "I've never liked it," she answered and shrugged. "Since I was a little girl, I hated it."

"Why don't you have it cut off?" he bluntly asked.

She cringed, managing to stop her hands before the ribs touched her mouth. "I don't know," she sighed putting the rib back on the plate and pushing it away. "I guess because it's still a part of me."

"Attached to it, huh?" He was being deliberately idiotic now.

Scully blew her breath out, laughing hard in spite of herself. He laughed along with her appearing to do so with his whole body; he seemed to shudder, his eyes pinched with glee, his mouth a full broad smile.

She liked him. She liked his laugh- full on bass and warm- she liked the way he looked and carried him self- formidable confidence blended with deft grace. She'd even become a little fond of the propensity he had for repeatedly adjusting his hat when he spoke. A nervous quirk, Scully had considered, or merely a motion to ease the press of the cap against his bare scalp. She had seen he was just as balding as Skinner the few times his hat had come far enough away from his head.

Although, his skull appeared smoother than Skinner's that was subtly pitted and pocked with peculiar dings and curious indentations. Occasionally, while seated before her superior's desk with Mulder explaining himself at her side, her mind would drift curiously over that uneven back-lit scalp, indexing the probable causes of those marks and wondering if there something more to phrenology.

When their laughter tapered down to scant chuckling they found themselves looking at one another, a certain level of wariness passing between their gazes. The echo of live music rebounded around them, people mulled about laughing and cheering, but it all seemed suddenly very far away.

After a moment, affected, Durokoff cleared his throat shifting his eyes left and right, anywhere but on her. He got up from the table and motioned for her to follow. "Come on, I think that sauce is getting to you."

"Getting to me?"

He laughed one last breathy laugh, re-adjusting the cap on his head. "That sauce has probably got more booze in it than the bar over there."

She gawked at the plate of ribs she'd torn through. There might have been a good amount of liquor in the sauce but surely not enough to make her tipsy. "I couldn't taste liquor in it."

"Likely story, missy," he teased, "come on along with me."

"Am I under arrest for public intoxication?" She went with it, allowing him to take her by the arm and lead her through the crowd.

"Public intoxication, lewd and disorderly conduct, not to mention bad table manners..."

She didn't know where he was taking her but happily trotted along enjoying the feel of Durokoff's firm grasp.

Why couldn't Skinner be more like this, she mused as they wound their way through the crowded park. There was that one brief instant, she recalled his inciting of the Gilligan's Island theme while they were marooned in the middle of the lake, but she had assumed that was just the champagne.

She'd seen him smile just once, that same night, and the simple gesture had softened his features and lent light to his eyes. It was a long time before she had rid herself of the hope of ever seeing him smile like that again, at least for her. Again, she chalked it up to the alcohol he'd consumed and let it go.

Anything between them was not meant to be despite her moments of weakness, times when she was ready to throw everything away and tell him how she felt. He would probably give her one of those incredulous looks he so effortlessly doled out on a regular basis, saying something like "you've obviously made a mistake." Yeah, a mistake, all right. A big one, too. Don't go falling for your superior unless you're ready to suffer the knicks and scratches of unrequited... The sound of Durokoff's walkie-talkie interrupted her dejected introspective.

He excused himself by stepping away from her. A few moments later she was accepting his request to join him on a call, promising it would be interesting. And interesting it did turn out to be.

A rather typical domestic disagreement but with rather distinctive circumstances; at the far-off fringe of Carbon County where the Elmo Sheriff's department authority just about ran out. Two men of wise age, one would assume at first sight, sitting around all morning with nothing better to do than drink themselves into a stupor, decided the fireworks show was too far off to wait any longer. So, they started their own show a little early by setting off sticks of dynamite in their front yard.

The first blast had taken out a car belonging to one man who promptly set off a second stick that demolished the car belonging to the man who had set off the first explosion.

With their cars burning and the yard and house torn up and looking like a scene from a war, the men continued to argue and fight, each threatening to blow the other up.

Judging by the familiarity that the deputies on the scene as well as Durokoff treated the men, Scully figured that these two had a long history of such behavior.

An hour or more had passed when the county fire trucks were finally showing up on the scene and the two men had been talked down and on their way to Elmo where their view of the fireworks show would be quite good from their cells.

Stating that he was certain nothing he could show her now would top what they'd just seen, Durokoff set off anyway to give Scully a brief tour of the area, introducing her to locals less radical than the last and reciting regional history and lore making her feel quite comfortable with his attentiveness and polite gestures of respect.

She found in his behavior an old-fashioned charm replacing cautious political correctness that punctuated the cities she'd lived in most her life. Still, he showed respect to her, as the fellow agent of law enforcement she was, asking her opinion on issues of concern in the area and wanting to know her feelings about recent negative attitudes directed toward federal agencies.

But in defiance of their almost deliberate trade discussions, there was an underlying tension building between them. She could feel the air becoming charged as they traveled together and quite by themselves in the four-wheeler. Talk was becoming less and less as they drove through the mountainous roads, replaced by the frequent exchange of glances and shared smiles in the increasingly awkward silence.

Scully was beginning to feel as though she were on a first date when the radio gratefully crackled for attention, the dispatcher announcing she had a message from the Albany Country Sheriff's department. Scully was quick to stop any information from going out over the radio, making Durokoff aware of that being one feasible way Gryzwac had been tracing them with the use of a scanner.

Remarking how he hoped everyone was being as alert as she was he instructed the call be put through to them on his cell phone, and moments later Scully was talking to a ragged out sounding Mulder. He was traveling with an Albany Country deputy to get a rental car and didn't believe he'd be arriving until nightfall.

"Why doesn't he just get Boyd to have him flown over here," Durokoff asked Scully who relayed the question to Mulder.

"The helicopter is temporarily out of commission," she relayed back, listening to something else Mulder said, then, "besides, he's not thrilled about the idea if it were working."

Durokoff laughed. "I don't blame him in the least."

By the time they got back to town he'd shared his own tale of his experiences with Ronnie Stewart, the rock’n’rolling hot shot of the Albany County Air Patrol. It seemed the man had never quite put aside his days as a stunt show pilot, still managing to get a little acrobatic flying in every once in a while to show off and sometimes scare what he liked to call his "virgin" passengers.

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

Lariat Car Rentals Rock Springs, Wyoming

What was the deal?

Was there no respect left in this country for the urgency of federal business?

Mulder mulled these and a multifarious amount of other questions over as he watched the rental car agency employee languidly collect agreements from various pigeonholes along the wall of the storefront agency. Tired beyond measure he leaned against the chest high counter, believing if he stared hard enough at the back of the man's head, willing him to move faster.

"Please do not lean on the counter," he suddenly announced without turning.

Rolling his eyes, Mulder straightened and checked the time on the wall clock. Jesus, it was nearly four o'clock. Where had the damn day gone? "Could we hurry this up some, I'm really tired and I'm in a hurry to get to where I'm going."

"Perhaps you shouldn't be in such a hurry if you're so tired, sir." The man said, turning back to him with a smug lift to his eyebrow, his bushy mustache twitching like a nervous ferret had nested under his nose.

An abrupt and unsolicited laugh escaped Mulder. "Uh," he forced his eyes closed against the sight of the man. "I'm taking the full insurance on the car." He finally managed to assure the funny little man, who was now frowning at him.

"Of course you are after what happened to your last vehicle." He said planting the paperwork on the counter in front of Mulder. "Never in the history of Lariat Rental has there ever been such an act of complete disregard and..."

"I'm really sorry about the other rental car," Mulder bemoaned both what had become of the car he'd left on the side of the road the previous day and the fact that Lariat Rental seemed to have a monopoly on the rental car business throughout the area. Who would have thought there was a vandalism problem in such an area of the country? "Circumstances beyond my control kept me from calling..."

"Yes, yes. So, you've said. Still, I certainly hope this isn't the normal mode of operation among all representatives of the Federal Bureau of Investigation." He remarked pointedly as he handed Mulder a pen.

"As a matter of fact, it is," Mulder, aggravated to a point now, began signing papers with a whimsical flourish of his wrist, dispatching the signed copies toward the man with abandon. "It's a new policy that all federal employees must abide by totally, seek out and destroy as much property as humanly possible within the private sector." He emphasized his final word with such zeal he ripped right though the tissue thin top copy of the rental agreement with the ballpoint of the pen.

"Wonderful," the man declared throwing his hands up, "more destruction. I just never- now, we'll have to start over again."

"What!" Mulder spat as the man snatched up all the papers and started for the pigeonholes again for fresh copies. "Haven't you ever heard of scotch tape?"

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

Continued in part 8

#the spider and the fbi #walter skinner #skinner scully fanfic #scully #mulder #skinner #xfiles fanfic #the x-files

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thessalian · 7 months ago

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Thess vs Progress

Not to say that things are necessarily going well in the grand scheme of things (I mean, shit, just look at ... all of that ... out there - or don't if you need a break from unrelenting horror), but from a personal-life perspective, there are good things to note.

For all I promised myself this week off was supposed to be about relaxing, I did Do Things. Well, I Made Things. So far - chicken stew, potato salad, and brownies. I have plans in the direction of cereal bars, potato soup, sweet potato soup, beef stew, and risotto. Need to get out to the shops soon, though, because I need courgette for bolognaise and some more vanilla extract for any further baking I may wish to do. Like I said - month of batch-cooking. Though my appetite's on the decline at the moment and I'm not doing great pain-wise, so today might be a tin of soup, some potato salad, and maybe a sandwich if I'm feeling up to it.

The better news, though, is about my living situation. Long story short: there are two flats in this building, and my mother owns both, and both require renovation in a major way. So I'm shuttling around like the ball in a shell game between the flats. Or ... that was the plan, anyway. I moved into this flat from the other flat ... a little more than four years ago, I think? And for most of those four years, very little seemed to be getting done. My stepfather didn't get near the place. So the longer he waited, the longer I was stuck in the flat I'm in now - the flat which, while better laid out than the old flat, has the most atrocious plumbing it has been my privilege to experience. By which I mean:

No shower pump (so it's been baths in a tiny-ass tub for four years and I would commit a minor felony for a shower)

Leaky tub, in the carpeted bathroom. (Well, I think it's just that the tub is this cheap, badly-installed piece of plastic crap and because the cold tap leaks when I turn it up higher than a trickle, it seeps through the very bad grouting and onto the floor. The carpeted floor. IN A BATHROOM. I don't know what the people who designed this place were smoking)

By "bad grouting", I mean that some of the wall tiles literally fell off the wall and into my bathwater when I was taking a bath a couple of years ago.

Wonky boiler (though at least my stepfather installed a working timer on the damn thing so I don't have to switch on the day boost for two hours to get enough hot water to bathe)

Leaky faucet in the kitchen which has been half-assedly patched with electrical tape. (Literally. My stepfather thought this was even a vague solution.)

The kitchen sink drain doesn't have a U-bend, so using drain cleaner on it is a waste of fucking time (which is great when it's the drain that probably sees the most overall debris and gunk of any drain but the toilet)

Also the place is just ... grungy in ways I can't fix. There are cracks in various of the walls. The carpet is well past its best. The light fixtures ... the only ones that give light worth a damn are the bare bulb in one end of the living room and the kitchen lighting that my stepfather put in when I told him I didn't have enough light to make sure I was washing the dishes well enough. The others are gaudy-ass chandeliers. The less said about the curtains, the better. I don't generally complain because, I mean, it's a roof over my head that I don't have to torture myself to pay for, and my stepfather replaced the non-functional heaters last year so I'm not freezing my ass off trying to be mindful of the electricity bill like I was during that cold snap in 2022. So I was willing to wait and cope with the problems of the place for as long as necessary because you don't go being a choosing beggar in this kind of situation.

My mother, however, has been over for dinner a few times, and while I try to downplay it, she knows I'm struggling with the whole thing. So I figure she's the one who lit a fire under him, and he's been working himself ragged on the other flat for a few months now. I've been gifting him with baked goods every so often, partly because I can never eat a full batch of anything on my own before it gets stale but mostly because I appreciate the work he's putting in, especially with his back issues.

Which is when we come to today. Despite a bad pain day (weird agony in my outer left thigh and some grip strength issues on top of the rest of the increased OW), I made brownies, and I brought him some while he was working. He showed me the work on the kitchen (SUCH an improvement over when I first lived there, you have no idea!) and told me the current plan. Apparently, the goal is to get that flat liveable - not necessarily finished, but just done enough for someone to be able to, like, cook and bathe and sleep and everything - and then move me into it so they can start doing this flat. No real timeframe given on the work here yet, but I figure it's going to be a lot because if nothing else, they want to move a whole wall to give me a kitchen worth the name, size-wise.

Point is that if everything continues according to plan, the other flat will be liveable in about a month. I could be living in a flat with access to regular showers by mid-August - early September at the latest. I give a little extra time on that because I'm going to need to be able to book time off around then, since my stepfather's going to want me to move all my stuff in one day again and I will hurt for days afterwards. That and I have to get my phone and internet transferred and that might take a day or so, and I obviously can't work without it. Thus, better to be sure it's all organised for maximum efficiency. Either way, actual showers soon.

It's a nice thing to think about to keep from dwelling too hard on the election tomorrow. I've already voted, and the final results won't be in until Friday morning, but ... honestly, given that Starmer's been making noises about how trans women don't belong in single-sex spaces and how he wants to meet with JK Rowling at some point and is actually trying to arrange that (like TERF-In-Chief is a front-bench cabinet position now or something), and how he's almost certainly going to win, it's depressing. That's ignoring the rest of his so-called policies. It's not as big a mess as what's going on in the US, but it's mess enough. The US still has a chance to turn its would-be dictator away; we have "meet the new boss; same as the old boss" - damn near literally.

I'mma play Tavern Talk or something for awhile. It's fun and cute and will probably cheer me up at least a bit.

#Thess cooks #Thess has a living situation

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eldritchsurveys · 30 days ago

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1272.

Did you ever used to make cookies, cakes or pie with your grandma? .

Do you burn incense? >> I do.

Do you smoke weed? >> I do.

Have you actually been through a devastating natural disaster before? >> The closest I've had to this experience was when Hurricane Sandy came up to the NJ/NY area.

What fast food place, in your opinion, has the best french fries? >> They're all the same level of quality for me. As long as they're fresh and salted and fried in a good oil and not a weaksauce one, they're fine to me.

Do you believe one day aliens might take over Planet Earth? >> I do not hold this belief.

Do you like soda pop? If so, which is your favorite and least favorite? >> It's fine, I suppose. I usually prefer sparkling water to soda, just because I find the high sugar content in most sodas to be too aggressive for my tastes. But there are some bougie sodas that I like, hehe. Does it bother you when people burp around you or do you do it too? >> I genuinely do not care. I'm sure hearing any noisy bodily function gets annoying after a while, but I really would prefer people have the freedom to do them than suppress them for the sake of some weird social propriety and be super uncomfortable as a result.

When is the next time you’ll talk to the cousin you’re closest to? .

When was the last time you saw a bird? What kind of bird was this? >> Within the past 48 hours, I'm sure. There's always a lot of sparrows and cardinals and such that hang out in the bushes in front of our house.

How old were you when you had the chicken pox? .

Ever had a friend named Alex or John? >> Maybe.

When was the last time you painted a picture? .

What kind of stuff do you like on your hot dogs? >> Mustard, onions, sauerkraut, chili only if it's good chili (otherwise it's really not worth the mess).

Where did you kiss the last person you kissed? .

What’s your favorite thing to eat for breakfast? >> I don't have a favourite thing, I've gotten used to just scavenging for whatever's available. I do strongly prefer savoury meals; eating anything sweet in the morning makes my stomach hurt.

Has someone seen you naked in the past month? >> The person I live with, yeah.

How many concerts have you been to? >> One day I'm going to sit down and actually do a count, but it's bound to be erroneous either way because I've been to enough concerts and have a fragmented enough memory that I'm guaranteed to totally forget about at least one. Still, it'd be nice to have an official ballpark range because "a fuckton" is not good enough, lol.

Do you think it’s right for straight guys to get their tongue pierced? >> I do not possess the worldview that would require me to have opinions about what people of various sexualities and gender configurations do with their bodies.

Last thing you drank? >> Water.

Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? >> I did think about it, considering I do have my nose pierced.

Would you ever donate blood? >> I have never been eligible and I don't know if that's any different now.

Have you ever driven without a license? >> I have not.

Are you ticklish? >> Not remarkably.

What are you listening to? .

Describe the main problem with your last relationship? >> My last entanglement was doomed from the start for reasons that were mostly the other party's responsibility, but the fact that I kept going back to it was entirely my responsibility. So, in the end, the main problem was actually that I kept thinking I could overcome the very real issues with our entanglement by sheer will alone. What’s on your shower curtain? >> It's a Ouija board pattern with some skeletons and stuff.

What cartoon/anime character can you most relate to? .

Do you have any pictures of celebs saved to your computer? >> I do. Mainly of those celebrities playing characters that I like, though. A couple of my OCs also have celebrity faceclaims.

Do you like turtleneck sweaters/shirts? >> Gods... I have been searching for a good black turtleneck for what feels like ages now; not some cheapo fast fashion thing but a good sturdy underlayer with a full turtleneck and not some flimsy mockneck deal. A thick overlayer like a knit sweater with a turtleneck would also be nice. I should probably just be content with my scarves, although scarves are so annoying to deal with.

Do you find hands attractive? >> I do.

Do you think it is silly to give names to vehicles, or other inanimate objects? >> I don't care if it's silly or not, I think it's charming and I do it too.

Do you ever wear a robe? >> I would if I had one. I am still in the market for a nice thick terry-cloth bathrobe.

Is there a hair color/style you really like but don’t think you could pull off? >> I don't think there are any hair colours or styles that I like that would be unflattering on me. Out of all the Disney/Pixar animal “sidekicks”, which one is your favorite? .

If your mom was a teacher, would you want to be in her class? .

As a kid, did you love playing on Neopets? >> I'm pretty sure Neopets didn't exist when I was a child. Even if it did, though, I wasn't allowed on the Internet then. Would you ever get a pet turtle? Why or why not? >> I would not. Because I am not interested in caring for a turtle.

What shop/store/brand would you model for, if given the choice? .

If I search your room will I find birth control? >> You wouldn't have to search for long, it's right here on my nightstand. :V Have you ever witnessed a birth? >> Only animal ones.

Have you ever been told you were a good writer? >> I have been told this.

Is the last person of the opposite sex you texted single? .

Which Scooby-Doo character are you most like (Scooby, Shaggy, Daphne, Fred, Velma, the monster, Scrappy?) >> The monster, I guess, lmfao. I don't think I'm like any character otherwise.

Describe your dream wedding where money is no option. >> I really wanted our wedding to be in a cemetery but we were misled regarding the viability. I still think we might have been able to pull it off if we'd actually lived in NOLA and could scout locations and talk to people and make arrangements personally. It was hard enough to arrange even basic shit with so much distance in the way.

Do you have a birth mark? Where? Does it look like anything? . If you were blind for the rest of your life… what would you miss seeing the most? >> Fucking everything??? What is the most outrageous thing you’ve done for God? .

What person in the Bible do you most closely identify with? >> Jonah. Nah, I don't actually know -- it's a good question and I'd have to think about it more (there are. a lot of motherfuckers in that book, it'd take a while).

If you were to write a book what would it be about? .

Who do you admire the most? .

Who was your hero when you were a child, and what did you do to be like them? .

If you could rid the world of one thing, what would it be? .

The last piece of roadkill you saw, what kind of animal was it? >> I don't remember.

Has anyone ever cheated on their boyfriend/girlfriend with you? >> Not to my knowledge. Maybe the Valken situation was like this -- they were always doing this on-again-off-again dance that made it hard to tell whether they were actually together when we were fucking or not. Either way, it's clear the other party very clearly saw him as "theirs" the entire time, so I guess the details just don't really matter in the end.

Who/what is the last thing you kicked? .

List 5 things that have happened in the last 7 days. (They can be anything at all, anything that’s happened involving you, or your family, friends, partner) 1. Went to Frankenmuth for 3 days. 2. Got free weed from a store proprietor. 3. Received a Christmas baked-goods package from my friend in the mail. 4. Had some really good Mexican food. 5. Watched 2 seasons of The Dragon Prince.

Random fact about the person you love/like? . What would you do if your ex contacted you? >> It depends on the nature of the contact, obviously.

How many pets do you want? And of what? >> Zero. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be an option.

Have you ever asked someone out? >> I have.

Is the last person you kissed a virgin? .

Who makes you the happiest? >> Can Calah. Has someone smacked your butt in the past week? >> No.

Was your last kiss standing up, sitting down, or laying down? .

What are your views on spontaneous human combustion? >> I don't have an opinion on it. The concept is kind of amusing to me. Imagine you just randomly burst into flames. Like, what?

What was the last zoo/aquarium you went to? >> The Indianapolis Zoo. Very cool place.

What does the last message in your Facebook inbox concern? >> I was sending Frances my Christmas wishlist PDF.

Who is your closest friend of the opposite sex? What’s the best thing about him? .

How did you meet the person you fell hardest for? . What was the last alcoholic drink you had? >> Red wine. What was your favourite thing about the person you fell hardest for? .

Are you a strong swimmer? >> I'm not a swimmer at all.

What is your favorite combination of colors? >> Hmm... I'm not sure.

When was the last time you screamed out loud and what were the circumstances? .

Can you describe your father in one word? .

What’s the first movie you ever recall seeing? >> Uhh... The Lion King, maybe?

Do you still watch movies intended for children? >> Sure.

What was your worst fear as a child? Have you overcame that fear? >> Natural disasters, because I had a meteorology special interest which led to me reading about all kinds of fucked up weather shit and I didn't have the understanding of probabilities or geography and just assumed that any of that shit could happen at any time to me in my temperate New Jersey city.

What’s your younger sibling’s name? .

Have you ever had a churro? >> I have.

How is/was your chemistry class in high school? >> It was wildly easy. Like, as long as you could copy shit off a projector, you were guaranteed to pass. Every exam was open-note, so if you wrote the notes down, you're good. That teacher did not give a single fuck and I respected the shit out of that, lmao.

What was the first thing you ate today? >> One of those Green Giant microwave veggies-and-cheese sides.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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theplumbnerd · 1 year ago

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Mold-Free Haven: Jack Thompson's Tips and Solutions for Bathroom Mold Prevention

Introduction

Hello, plumbing comrades! It's Jack Thompson, your go-to PipeMaster from Denver, and today we're diving into the battle against bathroom mold. Nobody wants a moldy bathroom, right? So, grab your cleaning supplies, and let's embark on this journey to create a mold-free haven together! Mold-Free Haven: DIY Mold Prevention with Jack Thompson With years of plumbing experience, I'm here to share practical tips and solutions to keep that pesky mold at bay. No complicated jargon, just straightforward wisdom. Let's kick mold to the curb!

Signs Your Bathroom Might Be Mold's New Hangout

Before we jump into battle, let’s spot the signs that mold might be eyeing your bathroom as its next cozy spot: Signs: - Musty Odor: If your bathroom starts smelling like a damp, musty basement. - Visible Spots: When you spot black, green, or pinkish spots on walls, ceilings, or grout.

My DIY Approach to Mold Prevention

Time to gear up and kick mold out of the bathroom. Here's how I tackle mold prevention like a seasoned warrior: Step 1 - Ventilation Matters - Ventilation Fan: Ensure your bathroom has a properly functioning ventilation fan. Use it during and after showers. - Keep It Running: Let the fan run for at least 30 minutes post-shower to whisk away excess moisture. Step 2 - Clean Regularly - Weekly Wipe-Down: Establish a weekly routine to wipe down surfaces like walls, tiles, and countertops. - Use Mold-Killing Solutions: Employ mold-killing solutions like vinegar or hydrogen peroxide during your cleaning sessions. Step 3 - Keep Surfaces Dry - Dry Wet Surfaces: After bathing or showering, use a squeegee or towel to dry wet surfaces promptly. - Check for Leaks: Regularly inspect and fix any leaks in faucets, pipes, or the showerhead to prevent water accumulation. Step 4 - Monitor Humidity - Use a Dehumidifier: If your bathroom tends to be humid, consider using a dehumidifier to maintain optimal humidity levels. - Open Windows: When possible, crack open a window to allow fresh air circulation and reduce humidity. Step 5 - Seal Grout Lines - Inspect Grout: Regularly inspect grout lines for cracks or gaps. - Reapply Sealant: If needed, reapply grout sealer to prevent moisture from seeping in. Step 6 - Wash Shower Curtains and Rugs - Regular Washing: Toss shower curtains and rugs in the laundry regularly. - Mold-Resistant Materials: Opt for mold-resistant shower curtains and rugs to deter mold growth.

Maintenance Tips for a Mold-Free Zone

Regular Checks - Monthly Inspections: Make it a habit to visually inspect your bathroom for any signs of mold. - Sniff Test: If you notice a musty smell, investigate the source immediately. Safety Tips - Proper Ventilation: Ensure proper ventilation not only in the bathroom but also in your entire home. - Protective Gear: When using cleaning solutions, wear protective gear like gloves and a mask to avoid irritation. Call in the Pros - Persistent Mold: If mold persists despite your efforts, it's time to call in professionals for a thorough assessment and remediation. - Hidden Mold: Professionals can detect and address hidden mold issues within walls or other concealed areas.

Conclusion

There you have it, plumbing warriors! You've just armed yourself with practical tips and solutions for preventing mold in your bathroom, guided by yours truly, Jack Thompson. Now go forth, keep that bathroom mold-free, and may your battles against mold be ever victorious. Happy preventing! Read the full article

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wandaluvstacos · 1 year ago

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THE ONLY SECONDS THAT MATTER

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR IS UP!

Genre: Contemporary Romance Rating: 18+

Includes: Extensive horse nerdery + cowboys, mxm romance (1 trans + 1 cis), some discussion child abuse, some instances of trans/homophobia (it is rural Oklahoma, y'all), depression, occasional sex scene (but it’s a slow burn for sure)

Victor Ortiz-Bennett had some reservations about moving to Oklahoma, but his late aunt willed him a 70-acre horse farm, and he decides to fulfill his dream of running and operating his own training facility. Victor’s been around the reining horse show circuit for a while, and he’s ready to settle down, travel less, and spend more time with the horses he loves and away from the people he can do without. That is, until he picks up a horse at an auction with a bucking problem he can’t fix, and he has to take her to the one guy who can ride anything– Johnny Stearns, a retired professional rodeo rider.

Johnny Stearns is loud, chatty, eccentric, and fears nothing, exactly Victor’s opposite. However, Victor finds himself sinking into an odd friendship with this new foul-mouthed cowboy without a filter, diving deeper into the mess that is Johnny’s life until there’s no way to extract himself from it. Johnny may talk a tough game, but there’s more to him than he’ll let most people see. Victor knows getting in too deep will mean a rough ride, but if there’s anything Johnny’s taught him, it’s how to stay in the saddle.

Excerpt:

Victor opened two doors before he found a bathroom, and it was in a state for sure. The shower curtain rod had collapsed, taking with it the shower curtain, which now sat in a pile on the bathroom floor. Several empty bottles of liquor were piled in the sink, and someone had thrown up in the toilet and forgotten to flush. Johnny’s long body was tossed in the tub like a neglected doll, one leg hanging over the side and the other folded against the cracked tile at an awkward angle. For a second Victor wondered if he was dead, so he walked over and checked his breathing. Johnny’s complexion looked a little gray and there was still some bile dried in his three-day beard, but at least his lungs seemed to be functioning. Victor straddled the side of the tub and lightly patted Johnny’s cheek.

“Hey,” Victor said softly but firmly. “Johnny?”

Johnny groaned and his head rolled to the side, but that was about all he could manage. It was better than nothing. Victor rose to a stand and grabbed a towel hanging from a rack over the toilet. He wet it in the sink, then used it to wipe away the mess Johnny had made across his face.

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Victor growled, slapping Johnny’s face a little harder this time. “Johnny. Johnny! Necesitas despertarte o te mataré, hijo de puta.”

Johnny jolted, and his eyes wobbled open. For a second recognition flashed across his face and he started to say something, but it came out as unintelligible mumble before his neck lost its strength and his head fell back against the tile with a thud. Victor realized there was no way he was going to be able to pull Johnny out to his truck by himself. He needed help.

Victor strode out of the bathroom and down the hallway to the living room, where most of the partygoers had congregated. The music was so loud that it was hard to hear himself think, and the lights didn’t help much in distinguishing one person from another, but he finally spotted Sarah through the glass of the patio door. He pushed past a few sweaty bodies until he was able to shove the patio door open and tap Sarah on the shoulder. When she turned, she had a joint in one hand a cup of beer in the other. Nice to see she was so worried about her friend.

#The Only Seconds that Matter #update #patreon #my writing #original fiction #lgbtq romance #excerpt

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theprojectreneblogger · 1 year ago

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Showcasing a Complete House

2 juin

Hello everyone!

Léa here to bring you fresh screenshots from the game to showcase new build mode items!

Designing a Full House to Explore the Live Mode

As you probably already know, the team has been working hard on various aspects of the Live Mode and we needed a small home to test various aspects of Paralives’ gameplay. Our Parafolks needed to have access to many items to take care of their needs, so might as well make it fun and colorful!

A complete floor plan with everything our Parafolks need to fulfill their needs.

We wanted a big living space to showcase our modern furniture and decor. We chose to lean more into an industrial interior with metal, leather, and dark colors.

A cozy living room with everything you need to distract yourself from a stressful day. On the walls, you can see a new painting called ‘’Kroy Wen’’ created by Chloé.

Next comes the kitchen. Obviously, our Parafolks needed somewhere to cook their meals and have a cup of coffee in the morning. Because sometimes you need technology to simplify your life: dishwashers and small appliances are making their way into our Parafolks’ home!

A colorful kitchen with clutters on the shelves and small appliances. Keep in mind that this house has been made to test things out, including those small interactable objects, you might not be able to place them as they are on the picture if it leads to technical issues later on. Also, some items might not be functional and just be clutter.

What is that behind the curtain? A washer-dryer set! We still haven’t decided on their use in terms of gameplay, but at least you can enjoy the view and remind yourself that you should probably do your own laundry.

After a long day of cooking and distracting yourself, it’s time to get cozy: grab a book, or practice your musical skill! We added new industrial pieces of furniture, a brand-new bed, and a piano.

A small bedroom with a comfortable bed and lots of books!

The dresser from Maggie’s loft has been reworked and we added lockers to create a matching set. In the foreground, you have a closer look at the new piano!

The house being small, it was perfect for our new independent shower head.

A tiny bathroom with everything our Parafolks might want to use to tend to their hygiene need and a new mirror for them to reflect on their existence.

Finally, with summer just around the corner, it was time to add our barbecue to the mix and create an outdoor living space for our Parafolks!

A cozy and intimate patio that the Parafolks can access through the bedroom.

We hope you liked our little house, it’s gonna be really helpful for us to test all the new Live Mode features. We’re still adding more pieces of furniture, appliances, and clutter to the game. We look forward to showcasing them soon! Have a nice weekend! Léa ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ゝ

Edit: This post was originally published on Friday, June 3, 2023 but there was a bug and the email notifications were not sent that day. Edit #2 - July 27, 2023: This post is now public, feel free to share it

#paralives

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imbuity · 2 years ago

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delusion time

to the tune of closing time

https://rentals.ca/montreal/5684-rue-saint-urbain-1

absolutely BEAUTIFUL unit, massive backyard, the brick walls are so stunning, I’m enamoured. Plenty of storage in the kitchens for the MANY more items we are going to have together. that random wall of boxes is strange but also can be my dedicated trinket spot since I’m really going to be losing creative control of my room. oh is it for shoes? no, that’s not where the door to the backyard is. Maybe I can commandeer that spot as a little sarah yoga hole. entryway is so lovely, i adore the very thin little storage box (and I think there’s an additional coat closet beside it anyway). I think really the only single downside of this place is that the shower has a wall and not a curtain, so the bath option will be kinda worse. but perhaps in the 1.5 years before I even have the faintest ida of moving into this place my designated bath time will be less (since I’m all caught up on kpop content, after all). oh my god the WALK IN CLOSET. LUXURY!!! the second bedroom is a little dank but tbh it’s not even necessary since I have that wonderful, well-lit nook. That closet could be kite storage and just office use. anyway I am obsessed with this place and would kill to live here.

https://rentals.ca/montreal/6053-avenue-du-parc

Smaller, but much more affordable. Idk what’s going on with the people who have currently decorated this place because dear god, but again this will change bc I will be living there. kitchen storage looks more than reasonable, I love the island size, the light wood is a little uggo but that’s such a minor concern. more than enough room for living space, kitchen, and dining room to be fully separate - why do they have such clunky, space-soaking chairs? The view from the bedroom is nice, definitely tall enough to have privacy. separate bathtub and shower, what multitasking LOL. the light wood + cabinet handles are again a little ugly but not only could they be changed, with the right decor it might even be fine. looks like this second bedroom office space is behind the living room? with direct access to the balcony, so that can be my little yoga corner or I could set up shop in the living room while nick stays in bed.

https://rentals.ca/montreal/30-boul-st-joseph#gallery-463611.22479466:photos

the 2 bedroom in the same building is by far the worst visually (and storage wise) but I know for a fact he’d be willing to do it lol. I know that I like the location and the building, the washer and dryer and dishwasher are guaranteed, and the bathtub is functional, which again are the main concerns. Its just that the bathroom and kitchen storage are reeeeally lacking, so will need at least one large shelf in each room to accommodate this. I’m having trouble envisioning the layout of this apartment also but it would be very easy to arrange a viewing.

Ok, all done now - I think when this time comes we’re both going to be picky in different ways, which will be difficult, but I know that washer dryer and dishwasher are essentials for him as well, so the only thing I’m potentially fighting for is bathtub + storage. yoga nook will just be in the office space or if there’sa sectioned off living room so there’s no “battle” there, and location I can really make work anywhere. all 3 of these are totally fine options tho, imo.

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infinitesimblr · 3 years ago

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WCIF/Does Anybody Have...

So inevitably trying to put my game back together on a new machine has been...trying. Who woulda thought, right? Ugh.

There’s some things that I’m missing, and I’ve been keeping a running list of them as they become apparent. I figure if I post that list here, someone might be able to help. I haven’t got pics for everything, but those that I do have, I’ve added.

Buggybooz’ original PlummyPlum and Stone Sandwich KitchenBasic counter recolors, potentially one or two more. Whatever wasn’t included with their up-to-date files from Buggy’s Retreat. Found on Shasta’s Tumblr.

*****

Awesims’ KitchenBasic countertop recolors. Includes three concrete, three granite, and six composite stone countertops. Found at GoS.

This is one of the few Wayback Machine links of theirs that doesn’t work.

*****

Someone (???) once upon a time made a modded growable marijuana crop complete with custom garden plot and accessories for use. I can’t be any less vague, sorry. I had thought that iCad answered an ask regarding said thing a while ago but I looked through her entire blog and couldn’t find it. I’ve also tried SimsCave and the Booty, but I can’t remember who made it so I’m not having any luck.

Found! They’re by PandoraSims. The more complete version is maryjane2.zip, about 2/3 of the way down the page. Many thanks to @pixeldolly for prodding me to revisit the Booty when I’m not mostly asleep.

*****

The Scriptorium .txt files for Spaik’s Erica modular stairs, specifically the black and the white, as those are the only ones I use. Neither the T$R download or the files at the Booty come with them, and the installation instructions at T$R that had the text that one could copy and paste into their own files no longer exists. Boo. I made them myself following AlmightyHat’s Instructions. They are half-assed but functional (Not Hat’s fault BTW,) so if anyone wants them - here.

***UPDATE 02.24.23*** The data from my laptop has been recovered, so I now have the originals again. I replaced my not-very-well-done files with the correctly written ones that I originally had, and have also replaced the RAR at the link above.

*****

The following stuff that I think/swear is by Shasta but I’ll be damned if I can find any trace of these things online anywhere:

Recolors of the Seasons shower curtain in three colors (red, turquoise, and either a grey or maybe a lime) with white polka dots. 99.9% sure these were not by DeeDee. Found on Sims2Artists.

Recolors of the Base Game nursery stuff (maybe just the crib bedding?) using fabric patterns from Blend (RIP.) Part or all of the set was circus-themed. Shasta kindly pointed me to them on GoS.

Recolors of a Maxis rug - either Isotopia from Freetime or the rectangular Oriental rug from Nightlife - that are like, several two-toned monochrome recolors of an art deco design, the same but with a stylized rose design, and maybe one more design? Not actually by Shasta, actually by delonariel/tethys. With the help of some lovely folks in the comments, I was able to find them here at GoS.

*****

Some stuff One thing by Raynuss/Imagine That:

The Functional Dicke Berta Fireplace

The only place I’ve found a link to this is one post on SimPearls, and it’s since been deleted. Both amethystfenix and deatherella had this.

*****

The (original?) recolors for Pocci’s Kitchen Deco:

Each piece has two recolors that coordinate with the others, i.e. the kettle also has a red and a green recolor, plus all three have I think a pink and an orange recolor in the same leaf pattern. I have the meshes, and I thought the recolors came with them - at least, that’s how I got them on my laptop - but that was years ago on BPS so not now I guess? If the creator of the recolors wasn’t Pocci, I can’t remember who it was and Google Isn’t helping. As it turns out, the recolors I was thinking of were by SpaceDoll, and amethystfenix had these, too.

*****

Some recolors of Echo’s Real Rug by someone who I cannot remember. They were designs by actual designers like Bluebell Gray, and I’m afraid I can’t be more specific. I can’t find them with Google, I can’t find them on anyone’s Pinterest, I can’t find any reblogs of them. They were from quite a few years ago.

***UPDATE 02.24.23*** Also recovered from my laptop. Still have no idea who made these, but whoever you are, I want you to know that they are some of my absolute favorites and I hope you don’t mind me reuploading them for the community here. I included (my lightly edited versions of) Echo’s meshes for convenience, RealRug2x3 is the repositoried file.

*****

Some recolors of Veranka’s 3t2 Back to Retro Refrigerator done in modern, mostly geometric graphics, also some fruit. Again, I can’t really be more helpful than that. Here at GoS.

*****

Nabila’s recolors (maybe just one recolor? I think there were more than that though) of Adele’s Persianesque Jars. Well, it’s just one jar since the other is repositoried.

***UPDATE 02.24.23*** Guess what else I found. Turns out there are five recolors, I don’t know if they’re all by Nabila but I think so, and I’ve reuploaded them here. The edited meshes are included, PersianesqueUrn02 is the repositoried one. I did not include Adele’s original recolors, hence why the file names start at Recolor03. If you download these, you should probably rename them to fit with your other files.

*****

Some icicle-type string lights - the kind that are multiple vertical strands of lights hanging from a main horizontal wire - that were definitely not by Honeywell or ATS. There are two different sets I’m looking for: the first one is alternating short and long zigzag strands on straight horizontal wire. The wire came in green and black, pretty sure the lights just came in white/clear, although that might just be the only color I kept. The second set was more delicate-looking, smaller lights on thinner wire, the horizontal wire part is curved/concave on these. Not sure if they came with any recolors.

***UPDATE 02.24.23*** The first set on the straight wire is by someone who labels their creations “tig,” which led me to poke around MTS a bit but to no avail. The second set is by DOT from T$R and can be found in their section in the Booty as icelighting.zip, but I’ve included both sets in the same RAR here. They are edited just like everything else I’ve reuploaded.

*****

At one point someone made a set of concrete walls and floor in two patterns - “streaky” and “mottled” - with...ten to twelve eight shades of grey each. This one is frustrating bc I’ve been rather specific with Google and it feels like it knows exactly the thing I’m talking about but won’t show them to me on purpose.

***UPDATE 02.24.23*** Yarrr, it’s the last o’ me loot. You might have noticed a recurring theme...Error 404: Creator Name Not Found. Sorry about that, and if you know who made any of the mystery items listed, message me.

I found it all, and then some. Many thanks to the wonderful community members who helped me put my game back together, I am forever grateful. Thanks also to The Computer Store (yes, really) in Columbus, Ohio, for not just recovering my data but actually bringing the whole machine back to life.

#sims related #wcif #sims wcif #help #sorry #and thanks in advance

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electricbluebutterflies · 2 years ago

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(Last one I promise) 7. Shower/tub sex for Garcy?

I have a personal aversion to wall sex but uh here we are. NSFW, usual-post-canon-divergence, also on ao3.

She doesn’t want to be alone. She doesn’t want anything, really.

It’s one of the bad nights, the ones where Lucy has to remind herself that trauma is not a competition and if it was she sure as hell wouldn’t be winning but oh her brain is a knot sometimes. She has had unfortunate experiences and handled them badly but without permanent destruction, and sometimes her subconscious puts that on a loop and if there is one good thing about these nights it is that she is very, very good at distracting herself.

Wine is good. Her environment does not allow her to be picky, and she would not have described herself as a snob before that either, and multiple glasses of she didn’t care to even glance at the label but it’s a nice deep red are at least enough to turn down the volume on her emotions. Not off, never completely off, but lower. Realistic goals, always.

The next step, because these episodes are at least kind enough to happen to her in the middle of the night when she’s supposed to be trying to sleep, is to take full advantage of the current state of the water heater.

Lucy is still getting used to the nuances of living in a group situation, but she’s learned that middle-of-the-night showers are ideal if one is prone to crying at random, prefers water just below boiling, or so often both. The usual lack of privacy can be ignored, the broken lock on the door can be ignored, the worst-of-midcentury-décor environment around her can be ignored given her current lack of sobriety…

There is nothing in the world but her body, the water falling around her, and that pretty-scented soap Jiya hasn’t noticed someone else has been using (or more likely just hasn’t said anything about because she’s a good person but that is a problem for sober daylight Lucy). This is fine. This is going to be fine. This is-

Lucy is considering how she feels about a half-hearted attempt at getting herself off, the various details of her night making that seem like a possible fun idea and a little exploration of her body would be distraction enough right now, when she is reminded that the door does not lock.

Like, someone tried to fix it. Multiple people presumably tried to fix it. Lucy was not one of them nor was she masochistic enough to watch the attempts but none of them worked. And this is merely the only bathroom in the current safehouse that has a functional shower; there’s another closet-type downstairs, perfectly useable, and running water isn’t that easy to ignore no matter how half-asleep someone is, and-

She does not expect someone to slightly open the shower curtain for just long enough for her to process who the other person is, then immediately recoil.

“Oh good, you’re not drowning.”

It is the middle of the goddamn night, Lucy would like to point out. It is the middle of the night and far from the first time other people have seen parts of her body that she would rather they didn’t. The astonishing lack of boundaries is… actually not that astonishing, now that she thinks about it.

“Why would you assume I am?” she counters, peeking out from around the curtain. If the angle gives a little too much of a view of her breasts, well… her hand was between her thighs thirty seconds ago, far more boundaries have been crossed here.

“Heard water, it’s late…”

She wonders sometimes if there is any cycle to Flynn’s utter lack of anything resembling tact or damage control. She’s pieced together enough of the eclectic life that made him and found no explanation, and to make it worse he remains unpredictable. Several years in his orbit and she can’t even find warning signs most of the time, let alone-

“Normal people knock.”

For a moment she tries to figure if they’ve now officially fought in every room of the safehouse, and… no, she’s pretty sure she tried to dig a bullet out of his shoulder up here a month or two ago since he’s the only person he’ll let touch her even though she’s a terrible field medic, they checked off that list already, they-

“I’m allowed to worry about you.”

Normally this would piss her off even further. Normally this would be the point where she’d start yelling. But the walls are thin, and Lucy’s general state of done-with-everything does not make her want to be a terrible person, and instead she does the best thing she can think of and yanks him down for the most bitey first kiss she’s ever had with someone.

She’s thought about this for years, she’ll justify later. Right now what matters is it’s hot. Right now what matters is he’s going with it, almost growling, and-

“What are you doing?” he half-growls against her mouth.

“Feels right.” Blame the wine, blame tiredness, blame her need to forget, she doesn’t care, she wants.

She half expects this too will escalate, but instead he takes another kiss and it’s like something breaks, like the inevitability of them that has built up for years has finally ended, like-

“How are we doing this?”

The water is still running. There is still conditioner in her hair. She is in no mood to compromise.

“Join me.”

This is probably a bad idea, Lucy thinks as she watches her would-be partner undress, but then again any version of their collision would seem like a bad idea at some point. If she’s going to screw someone twice her size, as she is apparently very determined to do, why not do it against a tile wall. And none of what she’s seeing right now is new, but it’s different to see skin for the sake of seeing skin as opposed to not trusting him not to lie about not-actually-minor-goddammit injuries, and-

This is happening, she thinks as he slips into the space and eyes the minimal options for how to do it. This is finally happening.

This is not by any means the first time this man has pinned her to a wall either, and… she’s into it, she can admit that. There’s a certain way in which he makes her feel small that she has learned to like as their relationship has evolved into something that could be described as such, a protective warmth to his self-awareness. This is a man who is more than willing to use his body as a shield, and the contrast between warm skin and cold wall is delightful as he lifts her up, as she is reminded how easy all of this is and oh if this is the life ahead of her she will be happy, if-

It's a weird way to have a first physical encounter with someone, she thinks as his body collides with hers, but they were never going to do any of this like normal people. She’s known that, on some level, since the first time she met him. She suspects he’s known the same.

Everything is in her favor. Her legs wrap around his hips and she wants, she wants so many things and for once she is fearless about it, and this is them now. This is them with one of his hands reaching out to change the angle of the showerhead in a way she did not know it could point, allowing her original purpose and her redirected night at the same time. She knows he does not do things halfway and she can’t imagine he’s ever had a one-night-stand in his life – there are questions she has not sought answers to – and in however many days or weeks she imagines they will have a different experience (hopefully) laid out on a bed. Or maybe a couch. Or…

For now, this is hot. For now, this is enough.

She doesn’t fall apart. She’s not sure her body could right now. But she feels nice, the emotional release of being fucked well by someone who does want her and oh she hates that she knows so well what it feels like when a partner doesn’t, and she feels warm enough when he bites her shoulder as he finishes. She’ll seek repayment some other time, she decides, when she’s in condition to receive it.

“You alright?” he asks as he maneuvers her again.

“I’ll check for bruises in the morning,” she mutters, and she has suspicions and she doesn’t mind. “Otherwise…”

“We will talk, yes?”

“Morning.”

She’s in no state for it now, she thinks as his hands start dealing with her hair. But she will be. They will be.

#ebf writes fic #garcy

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just-someone-who-likes-to-write · 4 years ago

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hello 👋🏻 i was wondering if you could write different kissing/kisses scenarios with Jonathan? just tooth rotting fluff, maybe a desperate kiss where they feel they might lose one another or something yanno? THANK YOU ILYILY

YES!!!

Note I don't have access to my laptop, that's why this time is a bit different, so I'm sorry if this came out weird because I'm typing it from my phone.

Either was I hope you enjoy!

((LOOK AT THOSE LIPS!!.. I'D KISS HIM!!))

• Morning Kiss

Jonathan groaned annoyingly at the one ray of sun light that was able to escape the dark heavy curtains of the equally dark room. His first instinct was to get up from the bed, move to the curtains ,and close them properly. However, that was all forgotten when her realized the small weight that pressed his arm to the bed, he smiled as he looked down at your sleeping face. Carefully, Jonathan layed back down, ignoring the light that woke him up and focused at you. He has said how he loved the look of fear in people's faces, but when he is with you he wants to see nothing but your smiles and the peaceful look you have now as upu slept. Leaning down, he gently pressed his lips to yours and proceeded to shower you with kiss, when he heard your giggles it encouraged him to keep going, until you are fully up, which would take a while. The master of fear had always preferred the night, but since he met you he started to love mornings even more.

•Angry Kiss

"Fuck You!" You yelled before turning away to leave to your room.

"(Y/n), please wait!" Called Jonathan and he walked after you.

"No!" You said mot stopping as you went up the stairs. "You alway do that, you promise you'd make time for me everytime, and lile everytime I belive you, like an Idiot!"

When you were almost about to reach your room jonathan graped your wrist to stop you. It wasn't a strong hold, a gentle one that you could get free if you pulled your hand away hard enough. But you didn't and just stopped in your place but did not face him.

"I know I have been a terrible boyfriend to you, my love." He started. "I am so sorry,but please know that I am truely trying so hard to spend more time with you, but the Legion-"

"The Legion this, the Legion that, with how much you use them as an excuse you sound like a broken record!" You spat before pulling your arm away and faced him. He looked so guilty but you stood your ground. "I know your reputation as a villain is important, and I was ready to be patient through it all, when you have your all nighters, your meetings, and even when you get send to Arkham."

"My love-"

"7 MONTHS!!" He cut him off. "We haven't been able to be alone in the same room let alone set together for 7 months, I don't even remember that I have a boyfriend unless I see the news to see you in it!"

"I promise to be there more!" He said quickly. "I will take a break from the Legion, I will even take us on a vacation to that place you love so much, even if the Legion called me for assistant I will ignore them, I will be here for you for as long as you want me! "

All that didn't effect you because he said it all before, but what calmed your anger is what he said it next.

"Please...don't leave me."

His voice sounded so broken and lost. there was a pause between you two before you let out and angry groan, and get a hold of his shirt collar, which suprised him, and pulled him to you, where your crashed your lips to his. Jonathan was so lost and confused but he didn't pull away and gave in to you. The kiss was so agressive, heated, and before you pulled away you bit his lower lip making him wince in pain. The bute drew a bit of blood.

"You better keep your promise this time." You smirked. "Or I'll have to punish you~"

• Desperate Kiss

Like the joker you were Jonathan's Harley, but unlike the mad clown jonathan never abused you. In fact, he'd always keep you close to him at all times, you were his lab partner, the first head seek their opinion on his next plan, and whenever they'd face the batman, he'd send the henchmen to fight while dragging you with him to escape. There were couple of times where you were caught and sent to jail, and because you are not insane the judge would always send to spend time in regular jail for women which makes jonathan go into a frenzy, needing couple of guards to hold him down as the others took you away. Of course, the moment he escapes arkham he breaks you out the same night.

It wasn't long for a rumor to break loss of the two of you dating. You ignored it, which was hard considering how Harley and Ivy would poke you around to make you "Confess", which was never satisfying since your answer was always "We are not dating". The rumor became a reality, when jonathan confessed his love for you and asking you out for a date. Least to say, you were lovely dovey, even when your relationship lasted years, you still acted as if you were have become lovers recently. Despite the ups and Downs of being beaten by the bat, and seperated in court, you were happy.

Until that Halloween night, where Jonathan had planned something... really... Very ...bad. It was so bad that after you were caught and sentenced to jail for life as usual you found out from TV that Jonathan was sentenced to death. You felt your face grow pale and body grow cold at the news. He was being guarded by batman himself to assure he won't escape, that same night you had sever panic attack that they sent your to the infirmary to calm you down before you hurt yourself or others. You tried to escape by yourself but it always failed and ended up with you being beaten by the gaird and sent to solitary. One night a couple of guards took you away and sneaked you out of jail, you were confused by the lake of show, jonathan would put as he broke you out, but you were still excited, thinking he had escaped and came to get you. But was disappointed when you handed a letter from him telling you leave to the agreed location, and with it was tickets. The same day you escaped prison you left the country with the confident that Jonathan will come after you. Months past and you heard nothing from him or of him. Every day you'd go to the post office and asked if there was any letters by your "Fake Name" but every time nothing, you'd stay up at night thinking he'd be walking through the door every moment now.

After a whole year had and you broke down crying because by now you believed that jonathan had died a long time ago and you were hanging to a hope that wasn't there. You were crying so hard that you didn't notice the warm arms that wrapped around you until you were brought against a hard chest. You gasped and looked uo only to be met with tearful blue eyes of jonathan. You didn't think, you quickly wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and pulled him to a desperate kiss, he kissed you back as his hand went and and down your back to calm you down. When you stopped kissing you didn't pull away and only hugged him tighter and rested your head on his shoulder.

"P..Please ...don't go away.. " You begged between sniffs, thinking this was just a hallucination. "Don't leave me alone again."

Jonathan hugged you tighter, deeply regretting not giving a sign of him being alive, how he broke out, how he needed to do many favors for other villains to help him retire, obtain enough money to last you a life time,and live the peaceful life you both have ever dreamed of.

"I promise, I won't."

• Distracting Kiss

You came home from work excited. They finally gave you the vacation that you have been asking for and you wanted nothing more than to spend it with Jonathan. You were daydreaming about all the things you had planned for the both of you when you almost tripped and fell over something, you looked down and recognized the item as Jonathan's shos.

You let out a sigh. Everytime he leaves his shoes at the door like that, it means that he had hurried to his lab to work again. Normally you'd just shrug it off and just head off and make food for him so he won't starve himself... Again. However, today you will no have that. You put your things aside and went to the basement where he had set a mini lab for him to work in, his original lab was in his secret hideout, but he still set a lab in your home so he won't have to go back and forth over small things. You stopped at the end of the stairs and just stared at a hunched over jonathan who was writing on paper as if it was his last day.

"Jonathan." You called sweetly. He lifted his head to look at you and give you a tired smile before going back to his work. That didn't set well with you. "What are you doing?"

"I am working on a new formula for the fear toxin." He answered not noticing you coming closer. "It came to me on my way back home-"

He stopped talking, writing, and breathing when you wrapped your arms around him, and pressed your front ti his back. But that wasn't what made him stop functioning, it was the kisses you were placing in the back of his neck and with how your hand were moving around his body. He let out a sigh of pleasure that he couldn't hold in.

"(Y/n) dear... Please stop." His voice struggling. "I need to go back to work."

"And I need attention." You pressed your body on him more to be able to whisper in his ear. "A lot of it."

Jonathan tried to resist you could see it. He took his pen again and started to continue writing but this time slower than before. You held back a laugh at his determination, and decided to do your own testing, you started kissing up and down his neck. You knew all his weak spots and so it was only a matter of minutes before Jonathan gave up and turned around to give a direct kiss, which muffled your laughs as he lifted you up to your shared room where he will give you all the attention you want.

•Chaste Kiss

You and jonathan were setting together in the living room, you were watching whatever was on TV on the wide sofa, while he was reading in his seperated chair. Expect, he wasn't reading at all, he was staring at you while resting his head on his hand. You looked so beautiful, that he knew very well when he first saw you, but your beauty became even greater the moment he knew you more. You were so smart, sweet, kind, and most importantly patient. When he would be sent to arkham, when he would come injured from a failed crime attempt, when he made a lab in your basement. The list can go forever, yet she still stayed with him and when he asked her why she just answered with...

"I love you, that's why."

It bewildered him, confused him, he found no sense to give up all that for someone just because they loved them, but the warm feeling he felt by your words silenced everything else. He never told you those words, but that doesn't mean the feeling isn't mutual. His eyes trailed to her lips, which made him realize how in the past he hated any kind of physical touch, that just the mention of kissing made him feel disgust. But now he doesn't seem to have enough from her sweet kisses, even in their intimate moments he would make sure to ravish her lips the most... Aside from other areas.

"Why are you smiling?" You asked pulling him out of his train of thought, you also were smiling but he could also see a bit of blush obviously embarrassed by the realization that he was staring at her while smiling.

Jonathan didn't answer, he careful closed his book and got up and left to the other room, missing the pout you had, but it was quickly replaced with bewilderment as he came back after putting his book away, and instead of setting back in his chair he went to set next to her. (Y/n) still looked confused but pleased, he smiled down at her before placing his hand on her cheek and leaned in to kiss her. He could feel her tense in surprise before quickly relaxing. The kiss wasn't heated or deep, just a simple and gentl kiss.

"Jonathan, what-" you tried to asked after the two of you pulled away but he cut you off with un expected words.

"I love you." He said as he stared into her wide eyes.

He never said those words for he preferred his actions to speak louder, but those simple words seemed to please his lover quite a lot.

•Unexpected Kiss

"Shit!" You exclaimed as you jumped up from your desk and started gathering papers and other items from your desk. Jonathan who once in a while would visit your office for a coffee break looked confused if not surprised by hearing you curse.

"What's the matter?" He asked as he silently watched you go through your drawers searching.

"I forgot my mother is going arrive to Gotham today!" You said as you put stuff in your suit case. "I told her that I'd pick her up after work, but I forgot it was today!"

That's going to be troubling considering the distant between the airport and Arkham." He said casually sipping his coffee.

"I KNOW!" You yelled desperately.

"Want me to drive you?" He asked and you shock your head as you wore your coat.

"Thanks for the kind offer Jonathan, but I'll be able to handle it this time." You said getting ready to leave, you went to your place which was across from him and drank the rest of your coffee.

"Very well, just be careful and good luck." He said getting up to leave.

"Yeah thanks you too!" You said distractedly, but your next action left Jonathan with a look of pure shock, you kissed him on the lips before existing the office. "Lock the doors on your way out, thanks!! "

Jonathan was still staring with wide eyes at the direction you disappeared to. You had just kissed him and hadn't realized it yet, knowing you, you'd probably realize it only late at night when things had calmed down and you were alone with your thoughts. Now, you and him have only been friends in the work place at Arkham, but from your action just now, which happened because of two reasons, you genuinely wasn't aware of it, or deep down you wanted for them to be more than just friends, who drink coffee together, or go out for lunch after work.

He hoped for the later, but to finally find out he'd have to wait untill tomorrow morning, or later that night when she'd probably call him apologizing while being embarassed.

---

I hope you guys liked this one and sorry for any error, again I wrote this on my phone.

#jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane imagine #Jonathan crane prompt

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itsdiamondeyesuniverse · 4 years ago

Photo

Some bath stuff

Includes one Maxis mesh edit, two custom mesh edits and one “new” mesh. Tub/Shower combos on pic are separated functional showers combined with tubs in game.

Maxis Cheap Sink without toothbrush and soap - I saw @yandereplumsim looking for it not long ago and this idea crossed my mind before as well, someone has made a default replacement for them, but it needed specific textures to work with it, while my version works with any textures. Dirty state will have a texture seam though. This is a default replacement mesh! SFS/MF

Hokadk47′s Cheap Shower repositoried to Jonesi blanket - edit of my edit of this original by Hokadk47. I decided it was time to add the bottom tub(?) to it and used Honeywell’s shower bottom from their beautiful Better Bath Collection. It also uses Honeywell’s textures for all other parts exept the blanket now. Still has animations. This is a mesh edit, you need to replace original with this one if you had it! SFS/MF

And now my pièce de résistance - Hokadk47′s Cheap Shower Tub repositoried to Jonesi blanket - I wanted to swap the bath on it, but then it suddenly hit me that i could just remove the bath and use curtains with shower as a shower. I had the idea of making animated shower curtains for a long time and was not sure how to implement that, never thought of adding shower to the equation! I didn’t want to make that into replacement of Hokadk’s original mesh at first, cos i personally already have them placed quite a lot, but then i thought swapping tub would be pointless since curtain-shower works and could be used with any tub. Fits all Maxis tubs, i don’t have any custom yet, but i think it would work most of the time with them too, i mean that it should fit and not clip. Still has animations. This is a mesh edit, you need to replace original with this one if you had it! SFS/MF

How it works: you place this curtain-shower on top of the any existing bath, it can be placed without moveobjects cheat, the only exeption is if you already had this one in the game and placed on the lot, then either use cheat or buy new one. And yeah you’ll want to add bathtubs to any of those pre-placed ex-shower-tubs just fyi.

And a “new” mesh - Maxis Colonial Shower - same info as above on the usage and placement. Repositoried to ingame shower and has animations. I also adjusted curtain a little so it might fit better into square-ish tubs, originally this one didn’t clip only with round-ish tubs, like the one it comes from and that one with the duck, now it fits with all Maxis tubs at least. This is a mesh with a new GUID that doesn’t replace anything! SFS/MF

#s2cc #sims 2 objects #sims 2 default #jonesi

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

tuxedo iii, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: It’s the next morning. Your cat is still a man. Fuck. He still thinks he owns the place, including you. Sigh. Well, you still have to do your job, because, yikes, your cat-man has spent a small fortune on new clothes (spending like he’s got a black card, what’s up with that?). Ah, but... maybe both of you are starting to finally acknowledge that he might be a more man than cat – at least for the time being...?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; mentions of and a tiny bit of smut (fem reader, spanking, doggy, unintentional??? voyeurism, dry humping / thigh riding); domestic and soft moments with your cat-man; non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft slightly cocky Jeon Jungkook (+drama!!!) and bestfriend!Kim Seokjin; breaking of the fourth wall; are YOU a furry? yeah, I kinda think you are

*deep breath* I reference a certain boat that was stuck in the Suez Canal, Yoongi's livestream where he poked himself in the nose with the coffee straw, his love for tangerines, too many Twitch chat memes, that time his mom called him a boiled dumpling, 'BST' pink pajama Yoongi, DTS, TXT's 'Cat & Dog', etc...

–

part i | part ii

You woke up slowly.

A perfect, peaceful morning. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Neck cradled by your memory foam pillow? Check. Back well supported by your soft mattress? Check. Not sleeping on your sofa and destroying your spine? Check. Hey, you’re moving up in life! Ah, what a normal day already. You opened your eyes a crack; vision blurred from the morning sunlight filtering through your curtains. Bundled in your minty-green duvet? Check. Wearing your extra soft black-and-white striped pajamas? Check.

Large pale human hand firmly gripping your right titty? Check.

Wait…

What?

Your eyes snapped open and flew to your left.

Min Yoongi's face was centimeters from yours, buried into your pillow, messy bedhead sticking out everywhere. Black choker with the tiny silver bell around his neck. Still had those black velvety pointed cat ears and glowing pale skin, pretty pink lips ever-so-slightly upturned, warm exhale against your ear.

Your cat still a disturbingly handsome man?

Ah, yup, check.

His hand was on your right breast, fingers molded to the soft curve. A quick glance and, whew, he was still fully dressed in his black t-shirt and sweatpants from yesterday. Yes, fully, completely dressed. Shit, what if he caught you staring? You quickly flickered your eyes up at the ceiling, hastily wiping the drool away from your mouth. Whoa there. That would be embarrassing if he caught that.

Also, kind of gross. Don’t be gross. Keep it together.

Hahaha…

Well, yup, this was still awkward, the whole hand-on-the-titty thing, hahaha, but not as awkward as it would be if, hahaha, you accidentally, oh, don't know, hahaha, got really, really, really disgustingly drunk and, hahaha, had somehow lost all impulse control and, hahaha, fucked your cat?

Man.

Cat-man.

Hahaha, that would never happen. You’d make sure of that.

...

Unless?

No, no, no, stop, he's your cat, your cat, he's literally been a (cat) man for one fucking day, albeit a incredibly hot, deliciously built (cat) man who put your facial massager on your nipple and let you touch his human dick in the shower and he was hard for a hot second, so... no, no, no, stop, you are not a desperate thot, get a fucking grip – well, you kind of are – but not him, for fuck’s sake, you still don't understand what the fuck is going on or if he even remotely likes you and, let's face it, he probably doesn’t because you almost paid a guy to chop off his nuts–

"Are you dying?"

You choked on air and lurched sharply at the sudden deep, raspy voice. The grip on your right breast tightened, preventing you from moving away. You did what any sensible human being would do in this situation and wheezed like you were on the verge of passing out.

"Urk!"

"Do you have high blood pressure?" Yoongi yawned calmly, turning his face to the side to avoid breathing in your face, thereby pressing his body even closer to you. Your neck and ears heated to five billion degrees. "Your heart's beating abnormally fast. Maybe you should see a doctor."

You definitely needed to see a doctor for something as well as several gallons of holy water and a priest to get an exorcism for that horny demon inside you.

"Y-Your hand!"

Yoongi grunted. "What about it?"

What about it???

"It's on my tits!" you squeaked.

Yoongi lifted his head, squinting. "It is." Then his head dropped and he closed his eyes again.

HELLO, Min Yoongi? That's ALL you have to say???

"Is there a problem?"

IS THERE A PROBLEM???????

"I've always slept like this," he mumbled.

That's... true though. Your tuxedo cat, previously named Shooky until you realized he had his own name, did used to always sleep next to you, when he wasn’t trying to murder you by sitting on your chest, that is (he was adamant on letting you know when he needed breakfast). Usually, your cat was splayed out by your left side, his long body extended and pressed against you, his white, sock-like paws encircling your arm. Shooky had basically been a small furry heater that kicked you sometimes in his sleep.

Keyword: small.

"Y-You w-were a cat!" you sputtered.

"I'm still a cat."

"No, you're a man! With arms!"

"The reach is a little farther. Who cares?"

WHO CARES???????

Before you could very loudly inform Yoongi who exactly cared – that’s you, by the way, yes, you – he wrapped his arms around you and yanked your body to his, turning you into a red-hot chili pepper with the amount of heat your face was now emitting. Then his free hand grabbed your other titty. Without asking! Without even so much as buying you dinner or, hell, giving you a goddamn cracker! You didn't need to be wined and dined, but at least a single fucking snack before using your tits like his own personal stress ball!

Yoongi pressed your back into his chest.

You froze.

He pressed his crotch into your ass, shivering slightly.

Your soul left your body.

"Ugh, this human body is terrible," Yoongi muttered. "Always so cold. I need this extra body heat or I'll die."

You'll die? YOU’LL DIE?

You were pretty sure that you were already dead. Rest in peace.

Hang on.

Something was stuck in a very specific place, quite similar to a far-too-large boat in a narrow canal.

"Um."

Er...

"What?" your cat-man grunted.

"Your..." You gulped. "Dick."

"What about it?"

"You, uh... have morning wood."

"Is that a human euphemism?" he grumbled impatiently, clear annoyance in his tone. "I don't understand your species. Wouldn't it be easier to be straightforward and explain yourself clearly?"

A muscle in your eye twitched, reaching breaking point.

"Your dick is rock-hard and you're shoving it between my ass cheeks!"

"Yeah, so? It's cold too."

Your irritation fizzled out at Yoongi’s self-assured, completely calm response. In fact, he sounded borderline bored and exasperated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His hard dick was cold, so he put it in the warmest place he could find, your ass, duh. Nothing weird about it, of course. Your mind reeled, unable to compute what the fuck was going on. Thus, your body did what it did best in these moments where you did not want to give a response that would most certainly expose you and your dire need to get dicked.

Not deal with it, of course.

You fainted.

"Fuck!"

You shot out of bed at the harsh yell, tangled in the covers, barely registering that Yoongi no longer had a death grip on your tits – in fact, he was no longer in bed at all – and stumbled towards the source of the sound, highly disoriented, your earlier fainting spell turning you into a bumbling mess.

Admittedly, not that different from your usual self.

(Ouch, roasted.)

"What, what, what?" you croaked, running into the doorframe of the bedroom and nearly taking yourself out.

Might as well, maybe it would have been a blessing in disguise, considering the way your life was going.

You finally tumbled your way to the kitchen, where your cat-man was hissing at the pan on the stove.

"I was trying to make eggs," Yoongi spat, pointing accusingly at the frying pan. His ears were flat and his tail was sticking straight up. "And then it attacked me."

If you had three functioning brain cells, you would have remembered Yoongi putting his morning wood between your ass cheeks this morning, but alas, you only had two at the moment – you did run into the doorframe, might have lost one there – so instead you nudged him aside and rolled up your sleeves, taking the pan and shaking it so the eggs wouldn't burn.

"Was it the oil? Sometimes it pops," you asked as Yoongi continued death glaring at the pan.

"I saw you doing this yesterday. You didn't seem bothered," he mumbled, finishing with a low, angry hiss as if the pan was sentient and mocking him. The oil popped and seared your forearm, but at this point you maybe had five hair follicles total on your arms with how many times hot oil had splattered in you. It used to bother you when you were a kid, but years of cooking had desensitized the feeling, turning it to nothing more than a mere annoyance. Yoongi stayed behind you, intermittently letting out hisses of rage as you cooked.

"I told you, my dad's a chef. You get used to it," you said, tipping the pan and flipping the thin egg pancake with ease.

"That's bizarre," Yoongi muttered. "No normal animal gets used to pain."

Normality was starting to become a bit of a foreign concept to you. As for being an animal, well…

You took the pan off the heat and rolled the egg onto a plate with a spare set of chopsticks, turning it into a log shape. A literal egg roll, ready to be sliced into bite-sized pieces. You took a sniff. It seemed to be seasoned already. Had Yoongi simply copied what you did yesterday? His observation skills were insane.

"Then again, you seem to enjoy–"

"Yoongi," you blurted, not wanting to know what he thought you seemed to enjoy, but very sure it was going to be one-hundred-percent embarrassing and only for you. "There's some leftover beef and vegetables in the fridge you can have with the egg and rice."

He raised his eyebrows. "Beef? Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Because I was asleep and maybe half-dead? "Did you brush your teeth?' you asked suddenly.

Yoongi scowled. "Unfortunately."

"Right, so should I, goodbye now."

You marched away hurriedly, trying not to think about how your cat had surely witnessed you getting spanked while being fucked from behind by none other than, surprise, surprise, his not-so-favorite human being, Jeon Jungkook. Tattoo guy strikes again. The worst part was, you couldn't lock the door on your cat either, because then he would meow incessantly while you were getting deep-dicked and that was even worse.

"Your cat really likes you, huh?" Jungkook mused as you yanked open the bedroom door to the black-and-white tuxedo furball.

"Like is a strong word," you muttered at your cat, who yawned and sauntered past you to his cat tree, acting like he owned the damn place.

"I like you."

"Hah... wait, what?"

Jungkook grinned as your eyes found his. Took a while. You were a little distracted by his nakedness. His tattoos up his right arm. His tan skin. His muscles. His white teeth biting on his lower lip, tiny mole underneath flashing. His long black hair, framing dark chocolate eyes and teasing, cocked eyebrow.

"I like you," he repeated, voice deep and sexy.

You turned red and made the most coherent noise you could.

“... Urk?”

“Noona.”

Why did he look so fucking hot and disrespectful at the same time when saying an honorific?

Jungkook came up to you, hand cupping your head and tangling his fingers in your hair. He brought his face close to yours, lips brushing against your swollen ones, taking your breath away.

"Wanna go back to me spanking you while you get off on my dick?"

Respectfully, of course.

"How much rice do you want?"

You started, poking yourself in the nose with your toothpaste-covered toothbrush and smearing mint up your nostril – almost as bad as poking a coffee straw up your nose during a livestream in front of millions of people, yikes – as Yoongi appeared behind you, breaking you out of the memory. Your cat-man watched you with mild disgust and displeasure as you coughed and dunked your head into the sink, hurriedly rinsing off your burning nose.

"Whatever, I'll just fill it halfway."

And he left you sputtering, pajamas and hair soaking wet in your haste.

Awesome.

“I’m ordering some groceries,” you announced in between bites of rice and egg. You tapped lightly at the phone screen as you spoke. Green onions, tofu, cucumbers… “Do you want anything?”

“Meat.”

You swiped rapidly and added packages of chicken, pork, and beef into your cart. Why the fuck not? You like meat. All kinds of–

“Yes, Yoongi, I’m getting meat. Anything else?”

“What else is there?”

You made a face and handed him your phone. “All sorts of things. Household products too, in case you don’t want to smell like my soap.”

“Your soap is preferable,” he said absentmindedly, scrolling through the online grocery app. You continued eating, shoving things in your mouth and none of it dick. Sad. At least it tasted good. Your cat-man had seasoned the egg well. You jumped as Yoongi spoke again. “I want these.” He turned the phone around.

You squinted at the screen, staring at a picture of orange balls. “Tangerines? Why?”

He turned the phone back to him. “They’re small, round, and look tasty.”

You blinked at him, then shrugged. “Sure, why not? I guess your palette might have changed. Try whatever you want.”

He pursed his lips and pressed a few buttons as you ate. You realized you needed to order more groceries now that your cat was a man eating your human food and no longer a cat eating his rather expensive cat food. Sigh. You had put Shooky’s cat bowls in a cabinet earlier this morning before sitting down to eat. It seemed weird leaving them out on the floor like that. Kind of offensive, maybe, now that your cat was a man and all…

“Okay, I ordered it.”

“Ah, okay, that’s good. They’ll probably come later this week.”

After breakfast, you spent nearly half an hour with Yoongi trying to pick out something for him to watch from your various streaming services, only for him to select a historical drama series. Like what? You cat (man) wanted to watch historical drama out of all things? Instead of learning about the modern world, he wanted to watch a depiction of the past?

Whatever, it had seventy-seven episodes, so at least he would be occupied for a while.

You let him be and went to your computer, intending on getting some editing done. Sure, the universe decided your cat was a man now, but you still needed to pay for said cat-man’s existence. You still didn’t know what you were going do to with all that cat food, cat toys, cat tree… ugh, this was all a problem for future you, not present you.

Present you needed to splice five-hundred images of PepeHands together and overlay it over a League of Legends one-shot compilation.

Uh, so, it was this meme of a green frog named Pepe holding up his anthropomorphic hands in despair, therefore coining the term PepeHands for a particular Twitch chat emote… never mind, it just meant you were spending some time video editing for a gaming YouTuber and it required concentration, shitty memes, and well-timed captions. And you were getting paid good money to do this.

Yeah, it’s a weird world.

You sat at your desktop and got to work, doing the rough cuts of the video first. Thankfully, the YouTuber had already sent you the timestamps of the noteworthy moments, therefore making your job a lot easier. You spent several hours compiling the clips before adding your extra flair and effects. You had a library of images and sound bites that you commonly used (including Goofy singing Evanescence's ‘Bring Me to Life’) and was in the middle of grayscaling a video clip and adding the familiar audio of all around me are familiar faces before being scared shitless.

“Woof.”

You swore someone was singing ‘Mad World’ as they were narrating your life right now.

“Gah!”

You jerked in your seat to see Yoongi leaning over behind you, eyebrow raised as you gawked at him.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaimed, pulling back an earcup of your headset.

He frowned. “How can I sneak up on you?” He flicked the silver bell on the black choker around his neck, making it jingle cheerfully. “You put stupid thing on me, remember?”

You winced. “Well, I’d take it off, but there’s some kind of voodoo magic on that shit – and hey, don’t change the subject! You have that weird cat thing where you’re silent no matter what.”

Yoongi looked unbothered. “Weird cat thing? Thought you said I was a man?”

“Thought you said you were a cat?” you shot back.

You glared at him and he gave you a blank expression. Then he cocked his head to your desk.

“Your phone is flashing.”

You jerked your head to see your phone screen flicker. You grabbed it off you desk and unlocked it, checking your messages. Five messages from – ah, but of course – your best friend. Kim Seokjin.

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

You pursed your lips. With the pandemic and all, you hadn’t visited Seokjin in forever, but every week he would text you, asking for a photo of your cat and he would send you a picture of his sugar glider. With every week being the same and nothing interesting of note happening, it was hard to think of conversation topics. Therefore, Seokjin and you came up with this weekly event so your friendship wouldn’t deteriorate. Also, both of you were serious introverts, so he spent most of this pandemic playing MapleStory while you spent most of it on your couch watching Netflix with your cat. It was a miracle you two hadn’t morphed into actual potatoes yet.

You glanced at Yoongi, who was inspecting his nails and picking at them. You frowned and batted at his hand. He frowned back and smacked yours, harder. You glared at him. He gave you a vacant stare, as if he had done nothing.

“Why are you picking at your cuticles?” you muttered, going back to your phone and sending Seokjin an old picture of Shooky. You couldn’t exactly send him a picture of current Shooky. He was… well, currently not a cat. You stared at the picture of the fluffy tuxedo cat curled into a ball, asleep in your lap on the couch.

That moment wasn’t even that long ago.

Somehow, it felt like ages since you had last petted that furry butt.

“Hm, dunno. Occupies my hands, I guess,” Yoongi replied distractedly.

“Well, you shouldn’t. It’s not good for you.” You noticed you had another message from the local delivery service, saying a package had arrived at your doorstep. You stood, placing your phone on the desk and looked at Yoongi, who was staring at his old cat tree, the one by the window. When he was a cat, he used to poke his head between the curtains and look outside, watching the birds. It was his favorite haunt.

Now…

“Why’d you say woof?” you asked abruptly, giving him a quizzical look. “I thought you were a cat.”

Yoongi shrugged, tearing his eyes away from the cat tree to give you an uninterested stare. “Thought it would surprise you more. You’ve heard meow for long enough.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why would you want to surprise me?”

He shrugged again. “I was bored.”

“… You were bored so you decided to sneak up and scare the shit out of me?”

He paused, black tail swishing back and forth, pointed ears perked. Then he nodded.

“Yup.”

Sigh.

You lugged in the huge cardboard box, Yoongi standing out of sight of the front door as you huffed and puffed with your weak arms. Okay, it wasn’t even that big, but it was quite heavy and you weren’t exactly John Cena. Your arms were about as strong as a bowl of overcooked ramyeon noodles and that was putting it kindly. You weren’t the working out type. People who worked out diligently were dog people. People who preferred sleeping as their primary workout regimen had cats. What were the kinds of people who had cat-men then? The kind of people who like sleeping, but also needed a…

(You already know the answer.)

Yoongi snapped the door closed the second you managed to pull it on far enough to do so.

“You look like a boiled dumpling,” he commented.

“At least I’m delicious food,” you wheezed, inspecting the box. You recognized the clothing brand. “Is this the stuff your ordered? How did it come so fast?”

“I selected next-day delivery.”

You paled.

“I need clothes as soon as possible, don’t I? Or should I go back to being naked, since you’re a pervert?”

You choked, ears burning. “I’m not a pervert!”

“Mhm.”

You tried not to think about the hit on your wallet as you grabbed your keys from the side table and opened the box, seeing all the plastic packages inside. Monotone, in white or black. Figures. You tipped the box to the side and the clothes spilled out, tumbling all over the floor. It took a firm shake to dump it all on the ground. You got on your hands and knees to spread them out, tossing the cardboard aside carelessly to shift through the items. Hopefully, Yoongi had read the listings and selected the correct sizes. From your brief glance, you noticed the tops were quite oversized. Maybe he liked that fit? He had been quite a fluffy cat.

You spotted the packing slip with all the prices listed. You fished it out and then heard a thunk-thunk-thunk, the sound of cardboard on hardwood. Huh?

You looked up to see Yoongi swatting the box around.

“What… are you doing?”

He shrugged. “Investigating.”

You blinked. “Investigating what?”

“Don’t know. I simply feel the need to investigate, thus I am doing so.”

You stared at Yoongi for several minutes as he continued to… uh, investigate (???) the cardboard box, holding it this way and that, smacking it around, watching the flaps bounce in the air as it rolled. His velvety ears perked upwards, sleek black tail swishing with interest.

His expression was completely neutral.

For the first time since becoming a human, you thought Yoongi was more cat than man.

“Uh… okay…”

You glimpsed down to the paper in your hands, seeing the total cost.

You felt the color drain out of your face.

My… wallet…

F in the chat.

You fainted.

You felt someone poking you in the head.

“Are you dead?”

You gasped and jerked up like a drown victim coming up for air, still in mild shock of the sudden financial hit of your cat becoming a man. It was okay. You weren’t poor. You just didn’t expect Yoongi to be a shopping like he owned a fucking black card.

“Did I spend too much?”

You snapped out of your stunned state at his soft tone. Yoongi wasn’t looking at you. He was kneeling on top of the pile of clothes, dark eyes on the paper in your shaking hands. With a start, you realized his words were heavy with guilt, his ears pointing downwards and tail tucked against the ground.

“No,” you said quickly, putting the receipt down. “No, Yoongi. I asked you to buy clothes, remember? And besides, it’s better for you to buy things you like and are interested in, rather than me wasting money on things you’ll never wear.”

He raised his head a little, eyes darting from your face to your hands.

You smiled at him, reaching up to pat his head and stroke the fur on his ears. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s only money. Money will never be more important to me than you, okay?”

For a second, you saw something flicker in Yoongi’s eyes. It was so fast that you barely caught it. Relief? Gratitude? Fondness? Then he ticked his head out of your hand, fair cheeks flushing pink.

“You… you don’t have to do that,” he muttered.

“O… oh.” For some reason, you felt a pang in your chest at his words. “R-right.”

Yoongi made eye contact with you, dark brown orbs guarded. He spoke quietly, without emotion.

“Do you wish this never happened?”

“What?” You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?”

He gestured to himself, waving a hand up and down carelessly. “This. Human me.”

Human me.

You answered instantly.

“No.”

Yoongi gave you the disbelieving side-eye.

You let out a sheepish puff of air. “I always kind of wished you were human.” You scratched the back of your head aimlessly. “No one listened to me like you did. Even if I was having the shittest day of all time, you always made it better. You were the best cat ever.” You chuckled, smiling up at him. “Sure, your species changed, but you’re still the same, right?”

His eyes shifted, his cheeks still a light pink. “I’m still a cat,” he mumbled awkwardly.

You raised your brows. “Mhm, is that why you were playing with the box?”

“I wasn’t playing with the box,” Yoongi huffed, sounding insulted.

“Then I’ll break it down and recycle it.”

“No,” he snapped firmly. “It’s useful. We’re keeping it.”

“We don’t need a box, Yoongi.”

He tutted. “Hmph, humans. So wasteful. A perfectly good box should be reused.”

“Right.”

You tried to hide your laugh as Yoongi refused to look you in the eye.

You left Yoongi to examine his new wardrobe on the floor. You tried to pick them up but he stubbornly remained on the pile of clothes, not letting you move them. When you stood up to leave, you asked him when he was going to move – he replied with, "When it feels right", just cat things, you supposed – and hurried off to export the edited video you were working on earlier. The due date was today and you had to review it for quality.

A certain quality.

A certain quality of... of...

Needing the money.

Because your cat (man) had spent fat chunk of it on clothes, only to be more interested in the box they came in and sitting on said clothes rather than the actual items themselves.

Sigh.

"I ordered the wrong color."

"Oh?" you muttered distractedly, clocking on the export button. You'd been going cross-eyed for the past two or three hours – had it really been that long? shit – and checked your phone to see Gukmul, Seokjin's white sugar glider, peering up at the camera on a white fluffy blanket. You smiled, typing a response to praise his cuteness, completely ignoring the fact that Seokjin had also stuck his handsome face in the photo, smiling with a thumbs-up next to his pet.

The reply was instant.

hello, acknowledge my BEAUTIFUL FACE

You deliberately didn't answer right away to piss Seokjin off even more.

"What's wrong with it?" you asked, looking up.

Your jaw dropped.

You dropped your phone.

Yoongi, your cat-man with excellent reflexes, made absolutely no move to catch it.

It smacked you in the calf and hit your toes – fucking ow, holy shit – before clattering to the floor. You had a protective phone case on it with a cute tuxedo cat graphic. The screen wouldn't crack with the protector on it. In this moment, however, you didn't give a shit about your smartphone, Kim Seokjin, or even the blinding pain in your foot. Nope.

You were ogling at Min Yoongi in pink silk pajamas.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to–

Oi!

No, don't you dare scroll past! You think you're clever or something?! Hm? Advertisements always happen at the most crucial parts, you say?

This is just an ad?

Look here, Lemona Vitamin C Powder can provide a lot of benefits, including providing natural energy and boosting your immune system in, say, a worldwide pandemic–

STOP TRYING TO SCROLL PAST!!!

Jeon Jungkook stared at his phone.

At a very specific number.

He put it down, sighing a little, looking out the window instead. It was a nice day, but he couldn't enjoy it the way it was meant to be enjoyed. Pandemic and all that. He frowned, looking at the urban jungle surrounding him. Had he made a mistake moving here to the big city? Sometimes he wondered. Back then, he had moved to finish school and pursue his ambitions. Back then, his choice had seemed full of opportunities, but now.

What did he have, really?

A tiny apartment with a kind and understanding landlord. The world at his fingertips from his computer. Still a decent amount of savings left. Online courses that he needed to finish to get his film degree.

Loneliness.

He delved into his memories, smiling at the recollection of confused looks, awkward smiles, indignant huffs. So very unlike him to tease so much, but it was too fun and he hadn't felt the usual nervousness and shyness he had around others. There was something comforting about that smile, that apartment, and that fluffy tuxedo cat that loved to interrupt everything.

He shouldn't have played it off.

He shouldn't have distracted.

Not after he admitted it.

"I like you."

Jungkook said it to the air, to the memory. So vivid that he reached out to touch those lips, but then it all disappeared, just like that.

Ah.

He looked at the back of his phone, wondering. But now he was too nervous and shy to pick it up again. Why was that? When he was there, being seen by those surprised eyes, he could do and say shameless things. But far away, when he was alone, Jungkook was hesitating, suddenly afraid.

Sigh.

You sneezed.

Very loudly and jerking your head away from your cat-man in luxurious pink silk, jamming your nose into your elbow.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

You sniffed, rubbing your nose.

"Someone must be thinking about me..." you muttered.

Yoongi looked down, plucking the collar of the pajamas. "The cotton shirts are the same size, but for some reason this one fits tighter. Why is that? Is there no regulated sizing in human fashion?"

Dude, be glad you're not a girl, you thought dryly. "Might be the fabric," you coughed distractedly. Distractedly because you were staring at quite possibly the most gorgeous man in the history of men and you stared at a lot of men in your short lifetime, so you had experienced eyeballs.

Wait.

Man or cat-man?

Well, Yoongi was definitely the most gorgeous cat-man considering you were pretty sure there was only one in current existence.

His pointed ears stood straight up in interest, black hair messy from taking clothes on and off, fair cheeks and nose flushed pink, perhaps from physical exertion. Dark brown eyes sheepish, not quite looking at you. The black leather choker stood out on his neck, silver bell gleaming against his collarbones. The material was a mauve-pink silk, clinging to his lean body, showing off his shoulders and long limbs. The button-up shirt created a rather deep v-neckline, a sliver of pale chest visible. And his legs! His slim legs reminded you of a nimble dancer, ending in fuzzy black slippers.

There was a weird lump in one of the pant legs, going down his thigh.

Whoa.

"W-Why did you pick them?" you tried to ask in the least awkward way possible, attempting – and failing – to not to stare at his delectable thighs.

Yoongi shrugged. "They looked like the ones you have. I meant to get black, but I suppose I didn't read the listing closely enough. They're comfortable though," he mused before making a face. Your eyes bulged as there was a sudden jerk in his pants, creating a large tent in the crotch.

Alarms sounded off in your head, arousal shooting up like a rocket.

Oh.

Oh???

Oh!!!!!!!

"My tail is stuck," Yoongi grunted, lowering the back of the pink silk pants. The sleek black cat tail slid out, swishing in the air, tent in his pants gone.

Oh…

Right. The tail.

Because he's a cat... man.

Your inner thot was sad. Your dignity smacked you upside the head, highly disappointed in you for falling for that, then calmly shot down your arousal rocket with your shame. Oof.

"Can you show me how to sew so I can fix my own clothes from now on?" Yoongi asked as he readjusted the front of the silk shirt.

You bent down to pick up your phone, trying to do something with your face and hands to disguise your embarrassment and burning ears. "Yeah, of course." You placed it on your desk and turned back to face him.

Yoongi was right next to you.

Literally so close that you could feel his body heat.

"... Urk!"

You jumped in your seat, banging your knee against your desk and howling in pain, computer chair rolling and making you lose your balance, ass about to slip before Yoongi grabbed your chair and shoved it into the table, making you trip and fall back into the seat, head hitting the headrest a little too hard, seeing stars and rubber duckies for a second.

Wait, were they rubber duckies? They were white and glittery, almost as if they were made from snow…

Yoongi slapped you in the face.

“Ow!”

You rubbed your cheek, blinking rapidly to clear your vision before glaring at him.

“Checking if you were alive,” was his placid response.

Alright, it wasn’t that hard, but the unexpectedness of it still hurt. You frowned, only for the pain to slowly melt away, quickly being replaced by something else as you realized Yoongi was still half-leaning over you, a knee on your computer gaming chair to prevent it from rolling. The sting in your knee was temporarily forgotten. Yoongi spoke again, his voice low and deep, almost a sensual purr.

“You hit yourself pretty hard.”

He doesn’t know what’s he’s doing. It’s just a coincidence. A kitty-incidence, Seokjin would say.

Your eyes widened as Yoongi closed in, peering at your unfocused gaze. Now you could see down his shirt. Holy shit. Were you so deprived that you were getting mad horny from seeing Yoongi’s fucking clavicle and sternum?

Is that even a question?

Yes.

Yes, you were.

“You look like you did last night.”

“What?” you breathed, still unabashedly looking down his shirt.

“Your pupils are dilated.”

You froze. His cool fingertips were on your neck.

“Heartrate increased.”

You wanted to pull back, say, no, wait, don’t do that, but Yoongi was too close and his exhale was too feathery, brushing against your lips, and you couldn’t move, trapped in your chair, between him wrapped in pink silk and your mind reeling, him still playing fucking doctor while you were trying not to jump his half-covered ass.

“And that smell.”

You finally tore your gaze away, eyes drifting up to his.

You swallowed.

“S… smell?”

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Ohnoohshitwhatifhecansmellmypus–

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, surveying you closely. He was so close you couldn’t see his lips, only his dark brown orbs. He didn’t say anything. He smelled like your soap, reminding you of his naked body pressed against you in the shower. Your heartbeat was leaping to your throat, threatening to choke you with your own horniness. Honestly, at this point, would you even be surprised?

You chuckled nervously, clinging onto your last shreds of self-preservation, which, admittedly, were rapidly yeeting out of your hands.

“Hahaha… but you’re… a cat… yeah?”

Right?

Seconds passed.

Right???

Minutes passed.

RIGHT???????

Yoongi’s lashes lowered, not quite looking at your eyes. Staring at your lips.

“I’m a man too,” he whispered softly.

Your eyes widened.

Yoongi kissed you.

You were so shocked that you swore your eyes nearly left your head.

It was a soft kiss, his eyes closed, tilting his head slightly to fit better against yours, pressing you back into your chair. Your head hit the headrest and you gasped, your tongue lightly flicking his lips and they parted, his own tongue sliding against yours, gentle licks, your brain malfunctioning, but body remembering, hands coming up to grab his shirt and yank him closer, pressing back against him. He backed up a little at your suddenness, exhaling hard. Your eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of how forceful you were.

Yoongi looked away, pointed black ears flicking back and forth uneasily.

You kissed your cat. Man. Cat-man.

He’s been a man for not even two days and you just tried to make out with him like a demented beast!

“A-ah, Yoongi, no, I’m so sorry, I-I… please, I didn’t mean to…” you stuttered, letting go of him quickly, but also not wanting to let go, but you should, your hands getting confused by your mental signals, repeatedly clasping and unclasping the pink silk, not realizing that he wasn’t even trying to move away.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Yoongi said slowly.

You clutched his shirt, staring at your white knuckles, unable to look at him directly.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… you’re so handsome, but I’m your owner… and I cracked…”

“What you are is a desperate, sexually deprived human.”

You jerked your head up, seeing his unreadable expression. “I-It’s been over a year–”

All of a sudden, Yoongi lowered his knee and grabbed you by the ass, scooting you down on the rolling chair. You yelped at the swift movement, gasping as your crotch collided with his thigh, wincing as you heard the squelch of your panties jamming into your soaked core.

Yikes.

Welp, you can’t hide that shit now.

“You like things like this, don’t you?” Yoongi murmured.

Your cheeks heated. “T…Things like w-what…?”

Oh, you knew what. You knew very well what, but you also couldn’t form coherent sentences.

His fingers sank into your ass and he pressed you into his thigh, rolling it into your heat. The whines tore out of your throat involuntarily, grabbing his arm and staring up at him with shaking eyes, seeing his curious gaze looking down at you.

“B-But, Yoongi… I’m your o-owner,” you panted, resolve slipping with every second, your hips already rocking into his thigh, the slippery thin fabric doing nothing to hide his lean muscle, your own thighs clamping around his leg. “I’m supposed to t-take care of y-you…”

And last more than two days, fucking shit, get it together!

But you couldn’t get it together, especially not as Yoongi’s voice dropped to a lower octave, one side of his lips curving upwards.

“It’s a little different now, isn’t it?” he drawled softly, lashes lowering, eyebrows raising, his black hair darkening his gaze. “Since I am now capable to take care of you too.”

You whimpered, losing it.

Just started freely humping his leg, self-preservation completely gone. Did he even know what he was capable of, really? Did he have any idea what he could do? Surely not.

Surely, he had no idea how good he could make you feel.

Yoongi bit the side of his lip, frowning. “How will can I make it feel better? I’m only cop…” He trailed off, furry ears anxiously flicking.

You tugged on his arm, getting his attention. “Angle your leg a little more downwards… Y-Yeah, like that…” He did as you instructed, his thigh now pressing down on your clit and your rocking hips moving faster, clinging to his arm and setting your jaw, moaning at the added pleasure. “A-ah… yeah, fuck… yes, I c-can… like this…”

“You can what?” Yoongi breathed, watching your face closely, firmly holding the armrests of the chair so it wouldn’t slide.

Your head tipped back a little, bucking harder into his thigh, so wet your juices were soaking through your leggings and drenching the pink silk, turning it darker, the strong scent of your sweet arousal clearly evident. Your eyes drifted to Yoongi’s dark orbs covered by black hair, vision hazy, noticing the slight inquisitive upturn of his upper lip. There was no point in hiding it anymore.

“Can cum, Yoongi, fuck, I’m going to cum…” you moaned, inhaling his scent, his presence, saying his name and looking up at him, the stimulation and touch of another enough to get you there, eyelids fluttering as your orgasm swept down, taking you away and filling you with serene satisfaction, crashing waves soaring through you, washing away the sand of your dry spell, a different kind of euphoria than when you were on your own, pulling Yoongi close, kissing him deeply, breathing hard.

“Y… Yoongi…”

“Was it nice?” he murmured. “Was I what you needed?”

“Yeah…” You kissed his soft lips again, semi-breathless. “I–” The wave of guilt came now, your words dropping, brows furrowing, a sharp pang in your chest. Rising, rising. Panic. Yoongi lowered his head, black hair and soft pointed ear rubbing against your eyebrow, nuzzling your cheek. Once. Twice. Again, headbutting you lightly, smoothing the worry away from your forehead, a small laugh bubbling from your throat.

“What are you doing?” you chuckled, patting his arm, smoothing out the wrinkles you had made while furiously humping him. Your eye caught the dark mark now on one of his thighs. Welp. You lasted less than ten minutes.

Pink pajama Yoongi was dangerous.

“You liked this,” he mumbled. “When you were upset.”

You chuckled, instinctively reaching up and caressing his velvety ear. “You were a little smaller then.”

“Only a little.”

He slowed until he came to a full stop, dark eye staring into yours, cheek to cheek.

“I have to look after you, my clumsy human.”

part iv

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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