#that's why there's a bucket for heating wax

[aurantia-ignis]

Happy Valentine's to lauralemer!

The prompt was 'sharing heat after getting caught in the rain' but uh… by the time I was done with this I realised belatedly that they kind of didn't get to the part where they soak their feet together oops 😂 Take this as a very imaginative reading of 'things are heating up'??

Randomly, y'all have no idea how much research I did into fireplaces and heating during the early Edwardian/late Victorian period just for that last image………….

[spinoskingdom875]

The Emerald Coast is a beautiful place to be during the summer. Located next to the Station Square Hotel, with the outskirts of the city not far, the coast is an archipelago of small islands, with beautiful clear water, wonderful sky, palm trees, everything to have a fun and relaxing day at the beach. It was hot at the coast, and everyone enjoyed their drinks, Ice Cream, and some shades.

Tails applied sunscreen on himself, and puts on sunglasses. Tails: Ah, how I missed this place. Sonic: You said it, pal. Beside him was Sonic, lounging on a chair under an umbrella. He sips his drink. Sonic: I really love this place. All the times I ran through here, including the time I found you when you crashed that one time. Tails: Yeah. I wonder if they discarded that heap of junk. Not far, Big sits down with his rod, and begins fishing. Froggy hops off. Big: Don't go too far, little pal. I don't wanna lose you again. Froggy hops and sees Amy and Blaze walk by. Blaze has a drink, while Amy enjoys her Ice Cream. Amy: I knew you would love this place. Blaze: Yeah, it's as beautiful as the new city in Soleanna. She looks down to see Froggy. Blaze: Oh, hello, Froggy. Is Big nearby? Froggy nodded. She sees Big fishing. Amy: Be sure not to wander off on your own, okay? Froggy: Ribbit! Amy: Oh look. They see Cream, Cheese, and Trikey building a Sandcastle. They saw Blaze and Amy and waved. The Pink Hedgehog and Lavender Cat wave back. Blaze: So cute. Amy: Yes, always.

Wave: Okay, time to catch some Waves! She heads for the water after waxing her surfboard. Above Big was a palm tree, with Knuckles hanging on. He observes the beach, as everyone enjoys their time. Down below. Cream: It's almost finished! Trikey: This is so much fun! I never knew sand can be so fun to use! Cream: Before we met you, Cheese and I would come here every summer to swim in the water, and build sandcastles. Trikey: This place sure is amazing. She looks at the first loop. Trikey: What's that? Cream: That's a loop. Mr. Sonic would run through here all the time. One time, He saved Tails when he crashed a plane here. Trikey: Oh dear, I hope Tails wasn't hurt, that sounded scary. Cream: He was alright. He wasn't really hurt after that nasty crash.

Trikey: Can we visit the rest of Station Square later? Cream: Sure, we can do that. It's not really far from here. A big wave rises from the water. Wave rides through it, water splashing on Big. He stared, then shook himself dry. Wave: Heh, sorry about that, Big! Big looks on, then continues to fish. Trikey: I hope she doesn't get our castle wet, it'll be ruined. Cream: I hope so, too. She'll probably surf further out. She grabs her bucket and notices Froggy inside. Cream: Oh. Hi Froggy, what are you doing in my bucket? He looks at the castle made of sand. Cream: Do you like it, we made it together Froggy: Ribbit ribbit! Trikey: What did he say? Cream: he said, "Yes, it's a nice castle."  Trikey: Aw, thank you. You wanna watch us build it, Froggy? Froggy: Ribbit. Trikey: Um, okay, I'll take that as a yes! Charmy: Cool, you're making sandcastles? Trikey: Hey, Charmy. Yeah, do you like it? Charmy: Yeah, nice job. Cream: We're gonna make it really big! Charmy licks his frozen treat. Charmy: Sounds hard, but maybe I can help? Cream: Sure. The more, the merrier. Trikey: And the bigger it'll be!

?: My my, what a wonderful sandcastle. They look up to see Rouge. Cream: Oh, hello, Ms. Rouge. Do you like what we made? Rouge: Why, yes, it looks really nice. Trikey: Thank you, Ms. Rouge. The Bat smiles. Chocola came by with lemonade. Rouge looks at his drink. Rouge: Ooh, Lemonade. This heat is making me thirsty. I should go get a drink. Charmy's Ice Cream drips as he licks. Trikey gasps. Trikey: Careful, Charmy, we don't want our castle to get messy. Charmy: Oops, sorry. Cream: Oh, that reminds me. I'm getting hot from all this building. We should go get something to cool off, too. Trikey: Yeah. Cream calls for Rouge. Cream: Ms. Rouge?! Rouge: Yes? Cream: Can we go with you to get some Ice Cream, please? Rouge ponders. Rouge: Well, I am heading over to the bar now. Alright, darlings. I'll treat you to some Ice Cream.

Cream: Yippie! Let's go, guys! Trikey: Oh boy, Ice Cream! Rouge: Follow me, sweetums! They follow Rouge to the bar. From the tree, Knuckles chuckled and smiles as he scans the entire beach. Knuckles: This place sure did change for the better ever since Perfect Chaos wrecked havoc. I'm glad everything is at peace here once again. It really is nice to relax once in a while. Another wave crashes down, nearly missing the red Echidna. Wave surfs by. Wave: Sorry, again! Couldn't help it! Knuckles sighs, then smiles. Everyone continues to enjoy the rest of their afternoon at the Emerald Coast.

NOTE: Don't re-upload my Pictures anywhere without my permission, please. Thank you. (Credits: 

Sonic the Hedgehog and Friends: (C) Sega & Sonic Team. Logo made by: ShadowNinjaMaster.

[herzzgeist]

Prologue

Pairing: Law x fem!reader | Word count: 1.1k | Warnings: none

Dividers by cafekitsune

Safe to say you got his attention. The last few weeks made the surgeon of death realise things he never thought of getting into his head. Sitting at the desk of his compartment inside the Polar Tang, he tries on finishing the latest reports that began to tower over him, yet in vain.

Tired, Law's steel colored orbs shift over the papers. In annoyance he lets out a weary groan and cups his face in his hands.

There she is again. That adorable smile, that sometimes deaf inducing yet charming laughter. Oh, how you piss him off. You out of all people were on his mind. Frequently. Why? Sure you had the looks that made men's heads turn and the best part is, you didn’t even notice what effect you had on their filthy and ambiguous minds.

Heat rises into his cheeks, making him take off his white fluffy hat and set it onto the table. The dim light of an already half burnt down candle dances around the man's face. Attentively he gazes upon the little flame's unrhythmic flickering.

In a swift move his fingers wrap around the handle of the plate where the pile of wax starts to melt into, lifting it to his level. The cold steel of the submarine sends shivers down his spine. Since the heating system failed the heart pirates decided to dock at the nearest island. To their misfortune they crossed cold northern waters, arctic temperatures chilling the crew to the bone.

Law turns to the with books overflowing shelf. Literature of either medical history, anatomy, biology and even some stray book novels, all neatly stacked into the furniture, for the doctor is quite known for his tidiness. To his chagrin, there is a book sticking out like a thorn in his eye. Perplexed he flips it over to the cover: "Love for dummies.." he reads out aloud, sneering in a snort" What the-", Just when he was about to speak out a mockery, a loud thud interrupts his train of thought. Assuming it came from the corridors, Law curses under his breath and carefully sets the candle back to it's previous position, making his way outside his tank.

The heavy metal door creaks open and the raven haired man pokes out his head, cautiously stepping over the frame.

In a low voice Law calls out considering his crew is fast asleep at this hour: "Anybody here?". He figured, hearing those droning snores and steady huffs coming from the neighbour compartments, that his subordinates are completely nackered from today's work. Especially under these freezing conditions.

The hallway is badly lit by only a single faintly flickering halogen lamp, directly above the doctor's entrance. "This really should be fixed some time soon. Shachi...", he murmurs to himself, taking a mental note.

Brooms, buckets and transport boxes lie scattered on the iron floor. This must have been the source of noise that got crashed into.

Observing his surroundings, Law hears footsteps fading into the distance. A silhouette melting into the darkness: "Oi, wait! Are you alright?"

He follows down the corridor, his eyes adjusting to the blackness engulfing him. Just when he is about to recognise the person in front of him, a quickly torn open cold steel door impacts with his face.

"Captain Help! There's a spider in my quarters and-" a big white and fluffy polar bear mink storms out, his paws thrown into the air and screaming in panic. Bepo, Law’s Vice Commander, wearing blue pyjamas with snowflakes on it, stops in his tracks as he sees his Captain staggering in place holding his face. One could clearly tell the man is counting stars, disoriented by the impact. The mink gasps and grabs the doctor by his shoulders: "Captain! Stay with me! Don't go into the ligh-" - „How many times do I have to tell you to open that door carefully, Bepo!"

Taken aback by the harsh voice confronting him, his whole body sacks in and his round ears droop meekly, mumbling a deep: "I'm sorry".

The sudden vibe change in the bear‘s behaviour has always been a curious phenomenon, Law can't fully put a finger on it. Nevertheless, he thinks it is quite a quirky and amusing display of character.

Slowly coming back to his senses, the doctor shakes off the disorientation and gives his companion a salty look: "Bepo, I‘ll get a concussion if this keeps on..."'A soft sigh leaves his lips seeing the polar bear show casing his biggest puppy eyes he can muster. Tension grits around Laws jaw, leaving him annoyed yet slighty flustered. "Stop being a baby! It's fine! Did you hear a loud thud too a few minutes ago?" - " Aye Captain! It woke me up, but when I was about to check it out a spider crawled onto my bed! I hate spiders!" How can such a strong and intimidating creature be afraid of eight legged insects?

It leaves Law rather dumbfounded, but he waves it off nonchalantly: "So I suppose you didn’t see anyone walking by this corridor either?" Bepo shakes his head.

Curious. Law could‘ve sworn he saw a silhouette wandering down the hall. Confused he exhales loudly and turns back to his fluffy Vice Commander: "Go back and take some rest the last few hours before dawn. We’ll need you fit and healthy by tomorrow!" - "Aye aye Captain! You can count on me..." Not sure how this is biologically possible, but the bear just fell asleep standing on the spot.

A snot bubble coming out of his stubby nose, expanding and receiding to the rhythm of his calmed breathing.

It makes Law smile softly, snorting at this sight: "Not here Bepo"'-"I'm sorry“.

The mink answered in his sleep with that uncharacteristically deep voice again, for the man guiding him back to his bed only shakes his head to his amusement.

When heading back to his own compartment, the doctor couldn’t help but wonder who that person practically running away from his own Captain was. Was it a hallucination? Impossible, otherwise Bepo wouldn’t have heard that sound too. Perhaps an intruder? That wouldn’t make any sense, the shadow went the wrong way for it to escape. Besides, the Polar Tang is locked from the in- and outside.

No matter, he’ll find out soon enough. And even after that little adventure, at this point, the surgeon af death takes some well deserved rest aswell . Hissing after his hand touched his buzzing forehead he mumbles in a sigh: "That's gonna leave a big bump.“

[detailingdevilsindia]

The Truth About Car Washing: Debunking Common Myths and Misconceptions

Car washing is a routine task for many vehicle owners, yet it’s surrounded by numerous misconceptions that can lead to improper care and potential damage to your car. In this article, we’ll address and correct some of the most common car washing myths to ensure your vehicle stays in pristine condition.

Introduction

Myth 1: Dish Soap is a Good Substitute for Car Wash Soap

Why This Myth is Popular

Dish soap is easily accessible and effective at cutting grease, leading many to believe it’s a suitable option for car washing.

The Truth

Dish soap is designed to remove tough grease from dishes, not the delicate finishes on cars. Using it can strip away protective wax and damage the clear coat, leading to oxidation and a dull appearance.

What to Use Instead

Always use a soap specifically formulated for cars, as it is designed to be gentle on paint while effectively removing dirt and grime.

Myth 2: Hand Washing is Always Better than Automatic Car Washes

Why This Myth Persists

Hand washing allows for personal control and attention to detail, leading many to believe it’s the superior method.

The Truth

While hand washing can be effective, improper techniques and materials (like using dirty sponges or towels) can cause scratches and swirls in the paint. Moreover, automated car washes have advanced significantly, with touchless options that minimize contact and potential damage.

Best Practices

If hand washing, use a two-bucket system (one for soapy water, one for rinsing) and microfiber cloths. For automatic washes, choose reputable facilities with modern, well-maintained equipment.

Myth 3: Washing Your Car Too Often Can Damage the Paint

Why This Myth Exists

Frequent washing is associated with excessive wear and tear, leading to fears of damaging the paint.

The Truth

Regular washing is essential to remove contaminants that can damage the paint, such as bird droppings, tree sap, and road salt. The key is to use proper techniques and products.

Recommended Frequency

Washing your car once a week is generally safe and beneficial. Ensure you’re using gentle, car-specific products to avoid any potential damage.

Myth 4: You Can Wash Your Car Anytime

The Misconception

Some believe that the timing of washing a car is irrelevant as long as it gets cleaned.

The Reality

Washing your car in direct sunlight or during high temperatures can cause water spots and streaking. The heat can make the water and soap dry too quickly, leaving residues behind.

Optimal Times

Wash your car in the early morning or late afternoon when temperatures are cooler and the sun is less intense. Alternatively, wash your car in a shaded area.

Myth 5: Air Drying is Best for Your Car

The Belief

Allowing your car to air dry seems like a natural, low-effort way to complete the washing process.

The Fact

Air drying can lead to water spots caused by minerals and impurities in the water. These spots can be difficult to remove and can damage the paint over time.

Better Drying Method

Use a clean, dry microfiber towel or a soft chamois to dry your car thoroughly after washing. This method prevents water spots and leaves a streak-free finish.

Conclusion

Proper car washing techniques are essential to maintaining your vehicle’s appearance and protecting its value. By debunking these common myths, you can avoid unnecessary damage and ensure your car remains in excellent condition. Always use car-specific products, adhere to recommended washing frequencies, and be mindful of environmental conditions to achieve the best results.

Taking the time to educate yourself and apply these correct practices will pay off in the long run, preserving the beauty and integrity of your car’s exterior.

See Also:

· Best Car Cleaning Service in Noida — Find the best car cleaning services in Noida and keep your car looking new.

· Car Detailing Products — Discover the best products for car detailing and how to use them to achieve a professional shine.

· Detailing Services for Different Cars — Learn about the different types of detailing services available for different types of cars and which one is best for you.

· Car Detailing for Different Seasons — Find out how to prepare your car for different seasons with the right detailing methods and products.

· How to clean your car’s interior — Learn the 8 best techniques and products for cleaning the interior of your car, including the seats, dashboard, and carpets.

· How to clean car exterior in 6 easy steps — Discover the best ways to wash and protect the exterior of your car, including the paint, wheels, and windows.

· Detailing vs Washing — Understand the difference between detailing and washing and how to choose the right service for your car’s needs.

· Car Wash, Detailing, Ceramic Coating & PPF Near India Gate

· Car Wash, Car Detailing, PPF Service, Bike Wash Near Khan Market, Delhi

· Explore the Best Place to Get Car Wash in Delhi: Detailing Devils

· Car Wash, Detailing, Ceramic Coating & PPF Near India Gate

[solivianz]

7 Common Car Washing Mistakes To Avoid For A Perfect Finish

Car washing is one of the most important things that you can do to keep your vehicle looking great. However, there are some mistakes that can be made during the washing process that can cause damage to your vehicle or make it look dirty. To avoid these mistakes, be sure to follow these car washing tips.

1. Not Using Two Buckets

The most common mistake people make when washing their cars is using just one bucket. You should always use two, one for soap and the other for rinsing. It also helps to have a grit guard in the bottom of your wash bucket to keep dirt out. The problem with using just one bucket is that when you rinse your sponge or mitt, you put the dirty contaminated water right back on your car. This can leave noticeable swirl marks and abrasions in your paint. This is why many of the top car care brands, like Meguiar’s and Chemical Guys, recommend the two-bucket method.

2. Not Pre-Soaking

No auto wash can get every surface of your car cleaning. There are crevices, like the underside of many SUVs, or around the side view mirrors where grit collects. Also, there are organic compounds like bug remains and bird droppings that can do serious long-term damage if not removed quickly and thoroughly. For these reasons, it is very important to use a pre-soak when washing your vehicle. A good Conditioning Shampoo or Pinnacle Bodywork Conditioner, will lubricate the gritty contaminants so they can easily be rinsed away without damaging your paint.

3. Using the Wrong Soap

When it comes to car washing or steam cleaning, using the wrong soap can be a major mistake. Many people use household dish soap when cleaning their car, but this can actually damage the paint and finish on the vehicle. Household detergents can strip the wax and other protective layers on your car’s exterior, and they are often too harsh on the vehicle’s clear coat. Another common mistake is washing a car in direct sunlight or on a hot surface. This can make the job much harder because the water and cleaner/soap will dry faster, causing spots and streaks on the vehicle.

4. Using Too Much Pressure

Whether it’s from bird droppings or bug splatters, abrasive dirt on your car can scratch the paint over time. The best way to prevent this is by rinsing your wash mitt or sponge frequently in clean water and using a moderate amount of pressure. It’s also important to avoid washing your car in direct sunlight or when it’s hot. This will cause the soap to dry on the surface of your vehicle before you’ve finished and will lead to water spots. To prevent this, it’s best to wash your car in the early morning or late evening.

5. Using the Wrong Towel

Using the wrong towel can actually make your car look worse, and not just by creating ugly water spots. It can also transfer dirt from the wheels and rims back to the paint. It’s best to use dedicated towels for each product. Toss old cotton towels and rags in the trash and opt for microfiber cloths that are color-coded for each service. Traditional sponges’ surfaces can inadvertently grind contaminants deeper into the paint, while the microfiber lifts gunk to reveal a beautiful shine. Also, avoid automatic washes if possible, as they retain abrasive grime from previous cars that can scratch paint and rims.

6. Not Drying Your Car Properly

Often, people do not properly dry their car. Using a towel that leaves lint can embed dirt particles into your paint, leaving unsightly dull areas. A high-grade silicone squeegee can also be used to remove water faster and more effectively. Another common mistake that people make when washing their cars is doing so in direct sunlight. First, it can cause the soap and cleaner to dry out before you can rinse it off. It also heats up the vehicle, which can cause swirl marks in the finish.

7. Leaving Water Spots

Water spots can be one of the most difficult to get rid of. They form when the minerals in hard water are left to dry on your car’s paint. This can happen when you wash your car and don’t dry it properly, or when a sprinkler mists your parked car. These spots can also etch into the paint over time, leaving permanent crater-like damage that is nearly impossible to remove. To avoid these spots, it’s best car wash on cool days when the sun is not at its peak. Also, be sure to work quickly and in small sections.

[safeblanket]

The Car Washing Expert Advisory for a Pristine Finish

Our car wash advisory services are designed to revolutionize your car washing experience, offering expert guidance and cutting-edge techniques to achieve that showroom-worthy shine and pristine finish. Whether you are a seasoned car enthusiast or a new owner, our advisory team is dedicated to providing valuable insights and tips on choosing the right cleaning products, adopting eco-friendly practices, and mastering the art of car detailing. With a focus on preserving the environment and minimizing water wastage, we aim to not only elevate the appearance of your vehicle but also promote sustainable practices for a greener tomorrow. Embrace the unparalleled convenience and finesse of our car wash advisory services, as we embark on a journey to elevate your car care routine to unparalleled heights.

Understanding the Importance of Regular Car Washes

Regular car washes are more than just cosmetic; they play a vital role in maintaining your vehicle's overall health and longevity. As you navigate the roads daily, your car collects various contaminants such as dust, dirt, road salt, bird droppings, and tree sap. If left unattended, these elements can cause irreversible damage to your car's paintwork and metal surfaces. In this advisory, we explore why frequent car washe advisory are essential to protect your investment, enhance its appearance, and prevent long-term corrosion and depreciation.

The Impact of Environmental Factors on Your Vehicle

Weather elements can wreak havoc on your car's exterior, especially if you reside in regions with harsh climates. Extreme heat, UV rays, acid rain, and snow can all take a toll on your car's paint and finish. By adopting a regular car wash routine, you can mitigate the damaging effects of these environmental factors. We delve into the specific hazards posed by different climates and offer practical tips to shield your vehicle from their detrimental consequences.

Choosing the Right Car Wash Method for Optimal Results

Not all car wash methods are created equal, and each has its advantages and disadvantages. In this section, we analyze the different car wash options available, from traditional hand washing to automatic touchless systems. We'll explore the pros and cons of each method, including their impact on your car's paint, potential risks, and cost-effectiveness. Armed with this knowledge, you'll be better equipped to select the ideal car wash method that suits your vehicle's needs and your budget.

Proper Techniques for DIY Car Wash Enthusiasts

For those who prefer to take matters into their own hands, a DIY car wash can be a rewarding experience. However, it's essential to follow proper techniques and use appropriate tools and products to avoid unintentional damage. In this advisory, we offer step-by-step guidance on conducting a safe and effective DIY car wash. From prepping your vehicle to selecting the right cleaning agents and employing the two-bucket method, you'll learn the tricks of the trade for achieving a professional-quality clean at home.

Unveiling the Secrets to a Showroom-Worthy Finish

Achieving that glossy, showroom-worthy finish is every car owner's dream. But attaining such perfection requires more than just soap and water. We delve into the world of detailing, uncovering the secrets to professional-grade car polishing, waxing, and sealing. You'll gain insights into the best practices and high-quality products that can make your vehicle gleam like it just rolled off the dealership floor.

Preventing Rust and Corrosion: A Comprehensive Guide

One of the most significant threats to your vehicle's structural integrity is rust and corrosion. From identifying vulnerable areas to understanding the causes of corrosion, this section equips you with the knowledge to safeguard your car against this relentless foe. We also discuss preventative measures such as rustproofing and undercoating to provide an extra layer of protection, especially in regions with salted roads or humid climates.

The Environmentally-Friendly Car Wash Approach

Amidst growing environmental concerns, eco-conscious car owners seek ways to minimize their ecological footprint. In this final section, we explore eco-friendly car wash practices and sustainable car cleaning products that benefit both your vehicle and the planet. From water-saving techniques to biodegradable cleaning agents, you'll discover how simple changes in your car wash routine can make a substantial positive impact on the environment.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the car wash advisory serves as a crucial guide and reminder for car owners to maintain the cleanliness and longevity of their vehicles. Through the careful consideration of the environmental impact of traditional car washing methods, the advisory encourages the adoption of eco-friendly alternatives, such as waterless or eco-conscious car wash solutions.

[oliviachows]

Why avoid Carwash Under Sunlight?

Washing your car on a hot, sunny day is often thought to be bad for the exterior. Professionals frequently advise working indoors and avoiding direct sunlight.

The simple explanation is that the sun and heat accelerate the drying of soap and water, resulting in those annoying water spots that we all despise.

Heat.

In the worst situation imaginable, car washing in direct daylight can sear the paint. Additionally, it may accelerate damage caused by oil, dirt, and other grime that has accumulated on the car's body. This kind of damage may necessitate a costly repaint as well as destroying the resale value or trade-in price.

Blistering climate and direct daylight accelerate the drying system of the cleanser, making it challenging to wash a car without spots or streaks. When possible, wash a car in indirect sunlight and on a cloudy day.

If you have to wash a car in the sun, work quickly and use soap or spray wax that doesn't need to be rinsed to avoid water spots. When you're done, rinse further away from where you worked and in a shaded area if possible. Always have a wash mitt and a suds bucket on hand. Try washing the car on one side at a time.

Water Spots.

While washing a car in direct daylight, the cleanser can dry rapidly before you get an opportunity to flush it off. Film and water spots may result from this. Additionally, it is simpler for dirt, debris, and other contaminants to dry onto the paint and windows of the car.

To avoid this problem, professional detailers recommend working in the shade as much as possible. Additionally, they advise starting with the engine bay, door jambs, and wheels. This permits you to deal with this region while the sun is as yet beaming on different pieces of the car.

By making advance preparations and having everything prepared before you even reach for the hose, you can lower the likelihood of this issue occurring. Also, wash each panel individually or half a large panel at a time. Your products won't dry out in the sun, leaving you with an unsightly mess to clean up. Also, you should try to use a waterless car wash system like Optimum No Rinse, which was made to reduce this risk.

Chemicals.

The sun can cause damage to the chemicals used in a car wash. The soap quickly dries when heated to a high temperature, leaving streaks and stains on the car. The resulting grime may reduce the car's resale and trade-in value.

The alkalinity or acidity of a carwash solution can be determined by its pH level. Carwash proprietors ought to keep up with steady pH levels all through the different phases of their passage and straight washes to boost cleaning and consumer loyalty.

Workers should likewise be cautious while dealing with and moving the different synthetic substances utilized at a carwash. The employer should provide all employees who handle chemicals with the necessary training and safety information. Chemicals should be stored in a well-ventilated area with visible labels for easy reference. They shouldn't be stacked too high because some chemicals can explode when mixed together. Workers moving holders ought to utilize a truck with tying and mop up any synthetic spillage right away.

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Sandcastles

Summary: timetraveler!reader builds sandcastles, Ivar doesn’t get it and Hvitserk loves the idea of it

A/N: This is my entry to @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie Hot Fic Summer Challenge and literally the only thing motivating me in the midst of a writer's block. It was so fun to write :)

You thought that summer in Kattegat would be bearable. As in, it’s in Scandinavia and fucking climate change wasn’t a thing. But here you were, on the shores, hiking your dress up to your knees and letting the water splash against your calves for some relief from the heat.

People were giving you strange looks, but no one was approaching you, so you kept standing in the water listlessly, staring at the waves roll against the sand. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend that this was some tropical getaway, maybe Thailand or Bora Bora.

You could almost see it in your mind, the spa treatment that was waiting for you, Ivar, who would be old money in the future, insisting to spoil you. Hvitserk tagging along, wolfing down every sample and appetizer that some waiter had on their tray. Ubbe calling, making sure that Hvitserk hadn’t gotten food poisoning.

The heat distracted you from your little daydream, so you opened your eyes, walked back to the sandy part of the beach and sat down. Almost automatically, you began digging around in the sand, until you hit a damp spot in it, and an idea hit you. Quickly, you packed a bunch of sand together, trying to make the structure stay put, before adding another ‘tower’.

Still, no one paid you any mind, so you began to dig a small moat around the two towers. Leaning back, you admired your work, until a stroke of genius hit you.

If you couldn’t use a plastic bucket to make a tower, you could do that dribbly thing, where the wet sand made the ‘castle’ look like a molten wax candle.

You’d barely finished on the first tower when you heard Ivar complain behind you, his crutch getting stuck in the sand. With a huff, he gave up, sitting down next to your sandcastle.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m making sandcastles.” You replied, letting more sand drip onto the second tower.

“That doesn’t look like a castle to me.” Ivar replied.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t have any molds to make them strategically accurate and to your liking.” You snarked back sarcastically.

“So, what are the purpose of these sandcastles?” Ivar asked.

“I don’t know. I used to build them as a kid. And the wet sand is nice and cool.”

Ivar raised a brow as you continued to work on your towers, but eventually, he sat down next to you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him shift some sand next to him, before he looked around, and started making another tower. You had to keep yourself from laughing as he kept looking around, as if someone was going to scold him for making a tower of sand.

He did, eventually get caught unaware by Hvitserk.

“Brother! What are you doing in the sand?” he asked, unaware of how Ivar’s ears began to redden from embarrassment. Hvitserk sat down next to you, basically squishing you into a Lothbrok sandwich.

“I am-“ Ivar began, before he looked down at the sand again. “I am making a sandcastle. Y/N needed company while building hers.”

“Sandcastles?” Hvitserk asked, taking a look at your impressively high towers.

You nodded, adding the top to one tower that looked dangerously close to falling.

“Ivar, why haven’t I thought of this before? It’s fucking genius.”

Immediately, Hvitserk made for the water to get more wet sand, while Ivar groaned.

“He’s never going to let this go.” He complained.

“Of course not, Sandcastles are pretty great.”

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Honest and Truly

Summary: Spencer has his prom 10 years late, but none of that matters when it's with the girl of his dreams.

Word Count: 4.8 k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female (She/Her)-- Fluff

CW: Minimal vulgar language (PG-13)

Author's Note: This just might be my most favorite thing I've written in a very long time :) Also listen to the song I linked, it makes the title and the ending make more sense! thank you to @spookydrreid and @writhingintheroses for helping me a particular scene!!

Add yourself to my taglist! It makes it much easier for me :)

Honest and Truly

“A prom?” Spencer asks, realizing that the conversation had entered uncharted territory, a territory in which he had not a single clue how to navigate. Spencer, being a preteen in high school, never attended prom.

“Yes, Reid. A prom,” Penelope says, staring at him over the many monitors and stuffed cats that littered her desk, “It’s going to be so much fun!” she says, excitedly.

“That sounds like, uh, I’ll have plans that night,” Spencer tells Penelope, spinning around in the swivel chair as he eats his turkey and cheese sandwich. He usually enjoys their lunches together, but when Penelope gets an idea in her head, there’s no stopping her.

@s“Now I don’t believe that for a second, Reid. The only time that you have plans is when you’re with Y/N. And Y/N is going to be at this prom,” Garcia says, her pink glasses sliding down her nose. She winks at Reid, almost like she enjoys watching him squirm.

“How do you know that she’s going? Did she say she’s going?” Spencer asks, unable to conceal his eagerness that Y/N could be attending. Spencer might hate dancing and those fancy shoes that are too tight on his toes, but all that can be talked away if Y/N is there.

“Yes, she’s going because you’re asking her. That and I’m making everyone go,” Penelope says matter of factly.

Spencer opens his mouth, attempting to talk away Penelope’s suggestion. But Spencer Reid is a smart man and he knows better than trying to argue his way out with Penelope. Especially when it comes to Y/N. He might have an excellent poker face, but Spencer can’t hide his love for Y/N.

“I’m not going to ask her. You know she’ll think it’s because-” Spencer says, prepping for a long winded rant before the door of Penelope’s office swings open.

Y/N, with two coffees in hand, floats into the room like she’s walking on air. Or maybe it’s Spencer’s mind that’s floating when Y/N walks in. He can never tell. Whenever he’s near her, it’s like everything is sweeter, lighter and airier. Wordlessly, she passes the coffee to Spencer. Feeling her fingertips graze his reminds him of how pathetic he must be. He nods, telling her thanks, knowing that he’s unable to fully articulate just how grateful he is for the littlest things.

“Who are you not going to ask and to where, Spence?” Y/N says, leaning against the filing cabinets and sipping her coffee. Penelope, never one to be quiet, silently watches as Spencer and Y/N converse. Spencer looks up at her, feeling that light and airy feeling again. He brushes his hair that falls against his forehead nervously thinking of an answer.

“I- uh, I was thinking of asking my mother to come stay with me for a couple of weeks. You know, she hasn’t seen DC in a couple of years. And I do have some personal days banked,” Spencer says, telling Y/N a small white lie.

“She’s in Vegas, right?” Y/N asks, interested in what Spencer is saying, which is something that he’s still not used to. Spencer nods, smiling awkwardly.

“Yeah, she says that she likes the heat,” Spencer says, hating how formal and cold the conversation sounds. It’s normally flowing with easy and familiarity, but something is wedged between them. Penelope, long forgotten by the pair, types rapidly on her keyboard.

“You know, Spence. If you’re up for it maybe we can have lunch or meet at Elmwood Park. I’d love to meet the woman that made my favorite person,” she says, staring directly into Spencer’s eyes. Her stare is so intense that it’s like she’s looking into his soul. He thinks that if she looks deep enough she’ll see her own reflection because his soul belongs to her.

“I-I uh,” Spencer says, immediately thinking that he should actually invite his mother out for a visit, “I think that’s a good idea. She likes the sites and all,” he tells her nervously, trying to ease his beating heart.

He’s her favorite person.

Out of all the people in this city, this world. He’s her favorite person. Spencer, a lover of math, is tempted to figure out the odds of being his favorite person’s favorite person. He knows it’s slim. He knows it’s rare. It’s something magical and Spencer is terrified he’s going to ruin it. He’s terrified he’s going to fuck something up that’s not even his.

“It’s a date,” Y/N says, turning to Penelope, who’s still long forgotten, “Oh, Penny, you need to yell at Morgan for me. He ate my leftovers,” she tells Penelope, who feigns horror, “And now I don’t have lunch”

“How dare he!” Penelope says, her exaggerated response inciting chuckles, “he can get away with murder because he’s pretty,” she says, shaking her head.

He knows that she’s pretending to be disappointed, but he still doesn’t like to see it. Spencer unwraps the other half of his turkey and cheese sandwich and hands it to Y/N. She looks surprised, as if Spencer just handed her a million bucks.

“Spence, you don’t have to,” Y/N says, softly, handing back the half of the sandwich, “It’s your sandwich, I don’t want you to feel-”

“Eat it, Y/N,” Spencer says firmly, looking straight at Y/N, “You need to eat something. We both live off coffee as it is,” he says, hoping that Y/N will take the sandwich.

He’s looking straight at her and she’s looking straight at him. Spencer wonders if he looks deep enough he’ll reach her soul. He dares to think that if he can find her soul, he’ll stare at his face. He’s her favorite person after all, that’s got to count for something.

“Thanks, Spence,” Y/N says, smiling softly, “You make the best sandwiches,” she tells him, taking a bite of the sandwich as Garcia’s eyes flit from Spencer to Y/N. Back and forth, she watches the pair engage in the world’s best miscommunication.

“Y/N, did you hear? I’m throwing a prom!” Garcia says excitedly, hoping that Y/N’s reaction will be more enthusiastic than Spencer’s.

“A prom?” Y/N asks, unconvincingly, “God, I hated my prom. I got punched spilled all over my dress and my date tried to sneak alcohol into the banquet hall. It was a shitshow,” Y/N says, remembering the less than happy memories from high school.

“I didn’t go to prom. You know, between being a 12 year old and a dork,” Spencer says, self deprecatingly, “It’s not the ideal scenario, but I am familiar with the cultural significance of proms in American high school,” Spencer says, speaking to no one in particular, yet looking at Y/N directly.

“Maybe we’ll both get the prom night we deserve, Spence,” Y/N offers, tossing out her wax paper wrapper. She walks past him and it’s like the air is sweeter. He believes in science, but loves magic. Y/N is magic.

“Maybe,” Spencer says, refusing to make eye contact with Penelope, “you know, sorry to uh, cut this short. I have some paperwork to finish. Hotch’s been on me all day about it. So, uh, see you later,” he says, walking out of Penelope's office like a bat out of hell.

He tries to ignore the knowing stares from Penelope and Y/N’s confusion as he ducks out and walks into the bullpen. Spencer doesn’t have paperwork. He finished all his paperwork by 11:12 am. But what Spencer does have is a flight from Vegas to Quantico to book.

And prom shopping.

___

As it turns out, Spencer doesn’t know much about teenage American culture. Sure he’s seen 90s movies that Y/N forced him to watch. But it was quite difficult to pay attention when all he could feel was Y/N’s fingers brushing up against his in their shared bucket of popcorn or her head laying against his shoulder when she got tired.

He doesn’t know much of anything when it comes to romance. But he knows that he loves Y/N— and hopefully that’s enough. He still hasn’t asked her if she’d go with him. Honestly, he’s not too sure why he even has to ask her in the first place. She’s going to be there already, but Garcia and Morgan convinced him that it’s part of the so-called “Prom Experience”

“Spence,” Y/N says, she’s perched on the tall bar stool and rests her elbows on her kitchen island, “did you find a suit yet? I was thinking that we can go to that vintage store on Rock Ave. They have a surprisingly good size selection, and I think that this whole vintage thing fits your aesthetic really well,”

“My aesthetic?” Spencer questions, again lost at sea.

“You know, you’re like nerdy chic. Equal parts dorky and equal parts handsome,” she tells him. He feels his cheeks burn at her words.

Handsome

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not,” Spencer says, eyeing Y/N over the rim of his hot coffee.

“It is,” Y/N says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like him being handsome is just as obvious as him being dorky, “And get your wallet. We’re going to the vintage store,”

Spencer has a hate-love relationship with weekends. He loves spending time with Y/N where it was so easy to pretend that she loves him as he loves her. He hates the weekends for the same reason he loves them. Spencer knows that it’s all fake. It’s a façade of the truth.

“Spence! You’d look great in this,” Y/N suggests, holding up a gray sports coat, “I think it will match your eyes perfectly,”

“If you think so, Y/N,” Spencer says, nodding his head in agreement. She continues eyeing him as if she’s imagining what he’d look like in the jacket. He has to admit, it’s a very nice jacket.

“Come on, Spence. There’s a mirror over in the corner. Try it on for me,” she requests and not even a second later Spencer finds himself being dragged by the hand to try on the suit jacket.

Y/N holds the jacket open for him as he slips it on through his arms. He’s surprised to realize that it fits perfectly. He looks into the mirror, staring at his face and Y/N, who tugs and smooths the jacket. Spencer can’t look too much longer because if he does the lines between reality and fantasy will be difficult to distinguish. As much as he wants to stare into the mirror all day long, pretending that this is real, he much rather it actually be real. But wishing and dreaming only ends up with battle wounds and broken hearts.

“You look very handsome, Spencer. Very handsome,” Y/N says, staring into the mirror too now. But she’s not looking at the jacket, she’s looking at him. The beat of silence lasts longer than what’s comfortable, “Um, I think, I saw some pants that would look good on you, with this jacket, I mean,” she says, stumbling over her words. She’s not looking in the mirror any more, her gaze is noticeably away from Spencer and the mirror.

“Okay, uh, whatever you think, Y/N,” Spencer says, “I’m not even sure why I agreed to this thing. I don’t dance,” he says, regretting his choice to go to Penelope’s prom, but feeling guilty for maybe disappointing Y/N all in one breath.

“Did you ask her yet?” Y/N asks, holding up a pair of similarly gray colored pants. She must notice his confusion, “You know Austin, the woman you heroically saved. Does any of it ring a bell, Spence?” Y/N teases. Spencer feels his cheeks burn and his heart tighten, that happens a lot around Y/N.

“Oh Austin, uh no. She wasn’t interested in me, after all,” Spencer says, shifting his weight and staring at his converse, “I mean, I should have seen it coming. It’s transference, that’s like Psych 101,” he says, feeling strange. It was odd when Austin broke up with him, even if you can consider it breaking up. He felt a strange sense of relief when it happened, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

Y/N clicks her tongue in annoyance as she walks over to Spencer. Tugging slightly on the sleeves of the jacket she says, “well she’s not as smart as I thought she was. You have to be a complete fool to let someone like you go,” she says quietly. She’s standing too close, looking too beautiful, and seeming too perfect for Spencer to not be completely enamoured.

Then it breaks, like shattered glass. The rosey glasses are lifted, leaving only cheeks that sting with nervousness and hearts the yearn for something a little more tangible.

“Stop staring at me and go try it on,” Y/N says, handing him the pair of pants, “Oh and I’m going to look for a vest and a tie to match. This store is unbelievable,” she tells him, pushing him into the makeshift dressing room.

Spencer puts on the pants, which fit, despite being maybe an inch or two loose in the waist. He looks into the tall mirror, which is noticeably empty without Y/N standing with him. A floating hand, belonging to Y/N appears. She holds a burgundy tie and a dark brown vest, both of which are very Spencer. He smiles slightly, strangely happy that Y/N has picked something out that’s perfect for him.

“Tell me when you’re decent,” she says, her voice muffled by the curtain that separates them. He sticks his head out of the curtain, his eyes immediately finding Y/N’s.

“Ohh, Spence, you look amazing. Very handsome,” she says, her hands clasped around the tie, tugging just like she did with his suit jacket before, “What do you think?” she asks, looking at him curiously.

“It’s nice,” Spencer offers, approaching this like he does everything: cautiously, “I do like the texture,” he says, running his hands up and down the sleeves of the jacket.

“You look more than nice, Spence. I know I’ve said it like 30 times, but you look very handsome,” she says. Spencer hopes that she means it. He needs something to be real. Sometimes besides what he feels, because what he feels is the realest thing in the world.

“It’s nice to hear,” Spencer says, “you know from someone who’s not my mother,” he jokes, shrugging off the jacket and grabbing the hanger from Y/N.

“You deserve to hear it,” Y/N says so softly Spencer wonders if she’s saying it all. That beat of silence, followed by the awkwardness is back.

“So, uh, I saw a dress that I’m going to try on,” Y/N tells him, her gaze shifting everywhere but Spencer’s eyes.

“I’ll go pay for this,” Spencer says, walking back into the dressing room and the mirror that lies to his face.

___

Back in Y/N’s car, Spencer shifts in the passenger seat trying to find a way to sit comfortably while holding his suit jacket, pants and vest. Y/N hangs up her dress, that’s wrapped in a gown bag. She wouldn’t let Spencer see the dress, despite her practically picking out his entire outfit.

“So what’s next,” Spencer asks, as Y/N gets into the car. She smiles over at him sheepishly, leading Spencer to think she’s got another trick up her sleeve.

“I’ve got a confession, Spence. And please don’t hate me for it,” Y/N says, her voice coming out a little nervous as she eyes Spencer.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, even if I tried. And I’m certain I’ll never have to,” he says softly, resting his hand over hers on the console. He rubs the back of her hand gently, thinking about just how easy things are with her. If he could only be a little braver, maybe then the mirror wouldn’t be so empty.

“Okay. I knew that things didn’t work out with you and Austin. I overheard you telling Derek,” Y/N confesses, “And I know that it makes me a horrible friend or whatever, but I’m sorry that I eavesdropped,”

“Oh, uh how much did you hear?” Spencer asks, suddenly quite nervous. He can feel his heart drop, waiting for the moment when Y/N laughs at the thought of her loving him. He knows that it’s not fair to her, but then again all is fair is love and war.

“Enough to know that you’re still hung up or or someone else. I left once my conscience got the better of me. Once a Girl Scout, always a Girl Scout,” she says, making the three finger salute that’s common in scouting, “I just wanted to hear it from you, you know you’re my favorite person and all,” she says, a frown forming.

“I think, uh,” Spencer says, “That I was just a little embarrassed. You know how Derek and Penelope and Emily and JJ can get. It’s basically just you and Hotch who aren’t jumping down my throat about being, you know, alone,” he says, chuckling awkwardly.

“They just want to help you, Spence. In their own ways, but I’m always on Team Spencer. You never got to worry about that,” Y/N offers, squeezing his hand.

He considers what she says, not responding verbally, but nodding his head. He hasn’t ever had someone on his “team”, so it’s strange. But a good kind of strange.

“Spence, you okay? I wanted to give you something. To be truthful, I’ve been thinking about how I was going to do this for awhile,”

“Ask me what?” he questions, wondering what she has in store. He watches as Y/N rummages in his bag, clearly looking for something. He’s thoroughly confused when she pulls out a TI-84.

“What on earth?” Spencer says, as she places the calculator in his hands. Her sly grin, beaming up at him only further proves his point: his heart just beats faster around her.

“Just shut and press the on button. You’d think that a genius would know how to work a calculator,” she comments, rolling her eyes playfully.

“You know, I never used these. I can just do it in my head faster,” Spencer says, winking at Y/N when she pushes him teasingly.

“God, Spencer just turn it on!” she demands, very apparently getting more and more impatient.

He turns the calculator on and is brought to a green screen that has a picture of a graph. Spencer raises his eyebrow, as if to ask Y/N for the next direction.

“Press the graph button,” she says, getting quieter as Spencer looks at her.

He presses the button that she said to, waiting for whatever is supposed to happen. Spencer watches as the screen draws four black lines running parallel to each other. A curved line is drawn on the first two black lines, forming the letters “P” and “R”. The screen continues to draw, making an oval that looks like an “O” and the last two parallel lines are joined together with a “v” shape, forming the letter “M”. He takes a second glance, reading the 4 letter word slowly.

P-R-O-M

“Well?” she asks, waiting for his answer.

He’s speechless. Spencer blinks. It’s like his brain has stopped working. It’s a prom, a stupid prom that’s 10 years too late. But it’s the girl of dreams that’s asking him. And that’s the stuff those rom-coms he couldn’t pay attention to are made of.

“I mean, of course. Of course, Y/N,” Spencer says, dropping the calculator into the cup holder and leaning in to hug Y/N.

His heart stops again. Falling into that tricky habit of either speeding up or stopping when she’s around. He thinks he’s ready to implode when she pecks his cheek. Her lips don’t linger, hardly touching his skin for it to be considered a kiss.

“I don’t think I’d want to go with anyone else,” she says, mumbling into his skin. She seals his fate with her lips against his skin. Never again will Spencer imagine what it’s like to have her lips against his skin. Even though it’s a fraction of the time he’d want, it’s tattooed in his mind.

“I’m not much of a dancer, by the way,” Spencer says, reluctantly letting go and sitting back into the passenger’s seat, “so don’t expect too much,” he jokes.

“Oh you better watch it, Doctor Reid. I’m getting you on the dance floor, even if you hate it,” Y/N says, smiling as she backs out of the parking spot and turns into the street.

Spencer looks out the window, thinking to himself that there’s probably nothing he can hate if he’s doing it with Y/N.

--

Spencer didn’t go to prom in high school. He didn’t do a lot of the traditional things that most former high schoolers reminisce about at his age. He didn’t go to football games or have a best friend to make lifelong memories with.

He didn’t have any of that, until now.

But it’s prom night, 10 years late. His hands are sweaty and his mouth feels dry. Spencer wasn’t this nervous for even his first day at the BAU all those years ago. He tries to fix the burgundy tie that Y/N picked out at the vintage store. It looks crooked and twisted. Nothing like when Y/N tied perfectly in the store for him. He supposes that he can wait till she comes to pick him up.

The mirror, again, is noticeably empty without Y/N standing beside him. He can get lost in there, thinking about her standing with him. He does, because it feels like seconds later when he hears a rapid knocking on his apartment door.

Standing on the other side of the door is Y/N. She wears a sage green dress that looks like it’s made of softest silk. He smiles at her, not sure if he can trust his words. Spencer doesn’t think he’ll be able to do much thinking when all he can focus on is the tiny straps that rest on her shoulders or how the sage green compliments her skin tone.

“You look, god. You’re beautiful,” Spencer says, partly under his breath partly aloud to Y/N, “so beautiful,” he says again, focusing on her eyes.

“And you’re looking very dashing in that suit, Spence,” she says, pushing her way in, “do you need help with your tie?” she asks, looking at the tie he holds in his hand.

“Yes, please,” he says sheepishly. He holds out the burgundy colored tie, but takes his hand back as an idea crosses his mind, “oh wait here, I’ll be right back,” Spencer says, walking quickly to his bedroom.

“Alright,” Y/N says sceptically, “Don’t ditch me, Reid!” she calls out from the living room.

Spencer returns, hiding the new tie behind his back. He places an olive green tie with dusty blue and pink flowers in her hands. He notices her smile grow, realizing that he’s picking a new tie for a reason.

“I might not know much about prom, but I think that we’re supposed to match. You know, since we’re going together,” he offers, “but I need help putting it on,” he says.

“We’re going to match!” Y/N says excitedly. As she unbuttons the first button on Spencer’s cream colored shirt he holds his breath. He can’t breathe when she’s this close. Her fingers are quick and nimble as they feed the tie around his neck and elegantly create a knot. If Spencer wasn’t already in love, he knows that watching her eyes twinkle and her tongue poke out as she concentrates would make him declare it then and there.

“So handsome,” she says, using that quiet voice that makes it seem like she’s talking to herself rather than him, “I can’t wait to dance with you,” she tells him tugging the tie.

“I’m not going to be good, Y/N. I’m going to be a fool,” Spencer says, lamenting already about what an idiot he’s going to look like in front of Y/N.

“That’s nonsense, Spence,” Y/N says, waving him away with a toss of her hand, “You’re going to be the best dancer there,” she tells him rubbing her hand up and down his arm, like she did at the store.

“Would you believe it, if I told you I never danced with anyone?” Spencer says, being the most honest and true he’s ever been.

“We can change that,” Y/N says, stepping towards Spencer and linking her hand in his. She squeezes, restarting and stopping his heart all in one go, “oh wait we need music,” she says, feeling around for where her phone usually is.

“I got it,” Spencer says, stepping away from Y/N. He walks over to the small record player in the corner of his living room. He doesn’t play it too often, the records he has were once his mother’s and they’re too painful to play most days. But Spencer’s sure that he can make every exception to all his rules for Y/N. Maybe he’ll get some happy memories out of it.

“Going old school I see,” Y/N says, teasingly as Spencer walks over grabbing both his hands in hers, “everything about you is very charming, Doctor Reid,” she says, softly swaying to the jazzy tunes of Sarah Vaughan.

“I’m not too sure about that,” Spencer says, following Y/N’s lead as she floats around his living room, carrying him everywhere she goes. She rests her head against his chest and Spencer swears that she’s going to get a concussion from how hard his heart beats.

They’re alone, no audience to witness the moment that Spencer wonders if he can dare to call intimate. It’s intimate to him because every moment with Y/N is intimate. Maybe if someone had told Spencer that dancing like this could bring pure paradise all the way from your fingertips to your eyelashes, maybe he would have done it sooner.

“You’re quite the romantic, Spencer,” Y/N says as the song comes to a close. The record player stops, but they don’t stop swaying, “And you told me you couldn’t dance,” she scoffs lightly, with her head still resting against his chest.

“Is that okay with you?” He asks, “me being romantic,”

“I don’t think that I’d want it any other way, Spencer,” Y/N says, removing her head from his chest and her hand from his. She cups his face, touching him lightly. Y/N holds him like he aches to be held. It’s gentle and tender, yet leaves him desiring more.

“Honest?” Spencer asks, daring to be brave.

“Truly,” she responds.

Spencer shifted slightly, so he can also hold her face in his hands. Y/N drops her hands though, wrapping them around Spencer’s waist to pull them closer together. Spencer’s phantom fingers are like that dance around that dance around Y/N’s skin.

It’s Y/N that initiates the kiss. She moves in slowly and tenuously, looking just as nervous as Spencer is. He’s shaky slightly, the anticipation getting to his head when all he can see is Y/N’s eyes looking into his and all he can think about is how soft her skin is. It’s all he’s ever wanted to think about. Her lips are soft and pillowy.

But it’s more than that.

Kissing her is everything to Spencer. It’s the breathy sighs she lets out as he moves his hands and rests them securely behind her neck. It’s the peachy scent of her perfume that’s so sweet and strong it should be overwhelming when all it is, is intoxicating. Kissing her is dizzying and terrifying, but wonderful and sweet. He can’t tell where his lips start and where her’s end, but it doesn’t matter.

He doesn’t open his eyes because he knows he’s facing the mirror. But unlike before, he doesn’t need a mirror to know what he’s looking at. He can look into his soul for that.

“Very romantic,” Y/N says, smiling through the quick kisses she plants on his jawline, “I always thought you’d be a romantic,” he tells him.

Spencer brushes his thumb over Y/N’s bottom lip. It’s puffy and bitten from his kisses, but he thinks that it would be a shame to not bite and kiss it some more. He smiles so hard he knows that he’ll wake up in the morning and his mouth will hurt. But that’s the least of his worries if Y/N’s there to kiss it better.

“Honest?” Spencer says, calling back to the song, that’s now their song.

“Truly,”

---

TAGLIST (ADD YOURSELF HERE)

@shemarmooresfedora @willowrose99 @calm-and-doctor @spideygenius @measure-in-pain @nomajdetective @spencerreid9 @saspencereid @laurakirsten0502 @winifrede @muffin-cup @idonotexiste @pastelbabygirl19 @strawberryspence @g0lden-cth @spookydrreid

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

You remember that soft heat rut ask you got a while ago? I’td be SO great to see you write something like that with the construction boys, love me sum good soft smut

Oooh good point there anon, good point. Let's see what I can whip up 👍

Scrapper and Mix had been together for a long, long time. In that amount of time, Scrapper had come to notice how stuff changed. Sari got older, Arcee and Ratchet tied the knot, Bumblebee became a member of the elite guard, etc. One thing that didn't change? His Mixie.

"Aaand...done!"

Scrapper had just finished setting everything up. Their bed was nice and cozy, full of Mix's favorite pillows and blankets. Freshly washed and still warm from the dryer. Pair that with new, fresh towels, and even a basket full of his favorite snacks. Mix and Scrapper grew as bots, but heat cycles were something that never changed. Mix's was bound to hit at sometime today (Scrapper always marked it on the calender), so Scrapper was ready. He took today off from work, and had only JUST started to finish cleaning.

"I think I still have time."

Scrapper hopped into their showers, helping himself to a cleaning. He wasn’t sure if he had time for a nice hot wax like he wanted, but at least he got that soap Mix loved so much. He always liked cinnamon apple. He finished quickly, and was in the middle of drying himself off, when the doorbell rang. Scrapper put the towel on his head, and dashed for the door.

"Mixie! You're home! You were runnin' late, thought I had more time!"

Mix chuckled, lifting up the bag in his hand for Scrapper to see.

"I needed a drive to clear my head, then I decided to pick up somethin' for tonight."

Scrapper peeked into the bag, damn near giddy. Mix got not only oil, but the GOOD oil, stuff that wasn't at all cheap.

"Aw! Well don't you make me feel all special. Come here."

He held onto his cheeks, and smooched his lips. Mix's body couldn't help itself. He was already getting the heat symptoms; a bit more frisky than usual, a bit foggy in the head. It was why Scrapper didn't give him too hard of a time as he grabbed his aft, despite the fact that it made him jump.

"Scrappy-"

"Ah ah ah. You know the rules. Shower. I JUST cleaned, and ya still got cement on your servos."

"Thought you liked that."

"Not enough to wash everything, especially before we get started. Shower time, Mixie cakes."

He swiped the bag from his hand, winking at him ad he made his way into the kitchen. Mix looked at him longily, before he forced himself to hit the showers. Scrapper grabbed a bucket, poured some ice into it, and after grabbing some cups, walked back upstairs. He set the bucket down next to all the snacks, and he wasn't gonna lie, he was impressed with the set up.

"I think I outdid myself this time around. He better like it."

He double checked that he had everything, when Mix walked into the room, towel at his waist. He looked at the set up, lightly shaking his head.

"Ya maroon. You way overdid this shit again. I don't need all of dis."

"You hush. Come on you, get comfy."

Mix rolled his optics, before obeying, laying back and getting comfortable. Scrapper hopped into berth, and sat on top of him, holding onto one of his hands and looking it over.

"You were trying to do it in the shower again, weren't you?"

"...no."

Mix always hated the idea of needing someone to 'coddle' him. Its why every heat cycle, he tried to touch himself beforehand, and everytime it failed.

"Is that why you look so grumpy?"

"I ain't grumpy, I'm pissed."

Mix hated his heat cycle, he really did. Not just because he was super horny, that wasn't new. What was new, was the fact that he didn't want to throw Scrapper around or be choked. He wanted Scrapper to make his valve happy. And when Scrapper opened him up, seeing that soaked, puffy valve of his, he realized he had so much work to do. Scrapper pouted, slowly running his servo in between the folds. Mix wanted to talk, but he was reduced to whimpers when Scrapper covered his mouth. The pheromones from a bot in heat could make anyone horny, even the bot in question.

"Shh. It's okay. It's okay. I got you. I always got you. I'm gonna take care of you, all night long. Your poor little valve."

Scrapper peeled his hand away, and leaned in to kiss him. Mix's lips were hungry, sinking into his kiss ravenously. Then Scrapper introduced a finger to his valve. Mix's hands gripped onto his shoulders, already putty in his hands. He kept his lips locked onto his, letting Mix swear against him as he continued to finger and massage his wet walls.

Then he overloaded. It was a quick one, one that made Mix's valve leak all over his hand. He pulled away from the kiss, grinning at Mix's flushed face. The first one was always quick, and not enough.

"You ready, Mixie cakes?"

"You act like this is the first time I've taken ya before."

"Well no, but I like making sure. You're SUPER sensitive right now, I'd hate to overwhelm you. You remember our first heat."

"You stuck your dick in my unlubed aft, rather than my valve. Yeah, I remember, you dumbshit."

Scrapper chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.

"Yeah...sorry about that. It's just why I'm careful now. I don't wanna hurt my big, precious mech again."

"Don't...say it like that."

"Aw, are you embarrassed? Is it because I talk to you in that voice? The one where I make you feel like a big baby? A big ol' baby who gets lots of kissy wissys?"

He held onto his face, decorating it in smooches, and Mix loved it. He squirmed in his arms, and his breath quickened considerably. Mix in heat was aroused by affection, and Scrapper was VERY equipped to handle his little kink. The little kisses to his face, the stupid baby talk, it left Mix shaking, whimpering on the spot.

"Scrappy, c-come on, been dealin' with this slag for like, a week. Stop teasin', PLEASE."

"Aw...you begging is cute, I don't wanna. But fine, I'm not mean, and I love you so so so much."

Scrapper gave his forehead a kiss, before opening his spike panel, and rubbing his spike against him. Mix ACTUALLY jumped up a bit, grip desperate as he held onto his arms. Scrapper chuckled, trying to not push himself in just yet, despite how tempted he was. His valve was hot, damn near steaming, and his spike wanted to make him feel better.

"Scraps-"

"You okay? You jumped on me, was that too fast?"

"No. N-no, I'm. I'm fine. I just. Fucking shit Scrappy just slide it in, PLEASE!"

There was no proper way to slide in, ultimately. Every single way was overstimulating. So long as it didn't hurt, Scrapper had to just settle for going on in. So, he did just that. He pushed himself inside his big, tight valve, and sat there. Mix's pedes thrashed under them, messing up the blankets below them. He didn't move. He was waiting for the sign, waiting for Mix to silently tell him it was okay.

Then Mix dig his servos into his back, and that was all he needed. He started to thrust into him. It wasn’t slow and soft like how he personally enjoyed, but quick, rough, enough to make the room filled with the sounds of metal and metal, and wet slams of a lengthy spike fucking a big valve. Mix was moaning under him, whining and swearing and begging for more and more. In between the soft, hungry kisses, Scrapper was just as putty in Mix's hands and vise versa.

"You're already close, Mixie."

"Shut...up. No I'm fucking not."

He was such a prideful liar. He nudged his face up, and peppered his neck in kisses, letting Mix whine in his arms.

"You don't gotta act all macho on me, bro. I'm here for you. I wanna make all that itch go away. I don't judge you for how quickly you overload. You're my big, manly mech, no matter what. Come on. Overload around me. I'll fill you up. You like it when you get filled. Go ahead. I'll give you as many many as you need after. Promise."

Mix still clung on to his overload, for just a moment, before he raked his servos down his hack, and overloading. Scrapper was forced to stay put as his valve tightened around him, squeezing the overload right out of him. They sat in each other's embrace, steam rolling out of their frames and condensation staining the sheets below them. Scrapper gave Mix a minute, before he pulled out of him, and sat down right next to his poor, exhausted Mixie.

"I hate you."

"You're just embarrassed. Here."

He smacked his face with his towel, helping himself to one as well. Mix grumbled like the sourpuss he was as he wiped himself down.

"Alright, alright. I am. Just...a bit. But you did good, and I mean that."

Scrapper grinned, reaching over to the basket of snacks. Little oil cakes, Mix's favorite, and peanut butter flavored, just how he liked them.

"I try. You deserve it."

"I...thank you. It means a lot to me."

"Oh its no problem, they're getting to be a pretty common flavors nowadays-"

"No. I mean...for this. All of this. You know this sucks, and you make it suck a little less."

Scrapper leaned in to kiss his forehead, before snuggling into him.

"Anythin' for you, bro."

They sat there, stuffing their faces full of shitty snacks, wrappers thrown onto the floor, to be dealt with later.

"Scraps?"

"Yeah?"

"We should totally fuck again."

"Its been five minutes."

"Your point?"

Scrapper rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile.

Things were going to get much more heated between them.

[mypersonmyg]

Colors | MYG

*thanks @namluve for the amazing banner!!

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: angst, fluff, flipped au

WC: 11k

Warnings: angst, some of the boys being stinky jerks :-( (even tho they’re the softest bunch uwu), cursing, mentions of anxiety (nothing too deep yet, but it’s there), NOT EDITED AT ALL OMG IT’S PROBS SO BAD

Summary: When you meet your new neighbor Min Yoongi you immediately fall for him and have no issue telling him how you feel. Yoongi does not feel the same and makes that very clear. Just when you decide that maybe you were wrong about him, Yoongi starts to have his own change of heart.

a/n: Oof, this one is rough and I’m not really sure how I feel about it. I decided that, for the sake of time, this is going to be a two-shot rather than a one-shot. It could probs be read as a one-shot tho, but it would have a lot of loose ends so...Anyways, this is my angst entry for bangtanhq’s summer boardwalk collab! Depending on how I’m feeling this might undergo major reconstruction before I post the second one-shot, but for now it is here and ready to be heavily criticized ahahaha...also I’m not really sure how angsty the angst is :\

The sun beats down against exposed skin, the bucket hat perched atop your head doing very little to protect you from the sweltering heat. Your mud coated fingers glide over the baseball sized clump of dirt, once filled with tiny pieces of sediment, now smoothed over as much as you could manage. You gently place it in with the two others you’d been able to scrounge with the mud you collected earlier in the day. 

 You hum at your progress, swiping the remaining grime onto your shorts, already soiled from hours of crafting.

Your thighs have settled comfortably against the ground, the grass beneath you smushed against bare skin, the earthy scent settling into your nostrils. Despite the glowering sun the day is perfect, the chirp of birds and the rustle of luscious leaves floating in and out like a melodious tune. 

Glancing to the sky, clouds few and far between, you make accidental shapes against the blue backdrop. Fingers come to swipe your cheek, a streak of mud left against damp skin. Were it not for your ill equipped supplies and dirt stained palms you’d whip out a blank canvas ready to explore the perfect subject glinting from above. Instead you’re busied with the arrangement and rearrangement of brushes and buckets until the dark of a looming shadow pulls you from your task. 

Peering down at you with a smile rivaling the pearly white of freshly waxed marble is Park Jimin, his hair a flattering blue and his brows furrowed in amusement. “Thought I’d find you here.” 

“How perceptive of you.” His arm extends enough for you to grab hold, the muscles flexing at your added weight as he pulls you to your feet. He grimaces at the slip of mud gliding against his skin, “It’s just a little dirt you pansy.”

“I personally prefer not to walk around covered in it.”

“It’s not like I prance around slinging mud everywhere! You knew what you were walking into, sir.” You quip with the toss of a towel blindly in his general direction, “Did you need something?”

“Yes actually,” He replaces the towel, trading in the soiled rag for a stray paintbrush. You watch as he traces shapes into the air with childlike amusement, “I just wanted to remind you that my roommate is moving in tomorrow.”

“Okay...why? He’s not my roommate.” 

“But you’re my friend and I want you to meet him. Preferably not looking like you just army crawled through the woods.” Jimin taps the brush to the tip of your nose, the rough edges of the bristles causing a crinkle amidst the onslaught of a sneeze.

“You’re quite the nuisance, Park Jimin”

“Lucky for you,” He adds, hefting your supplies into his arms with a grunt. “Now come on, I’m starving and you’re definitely gonna collapse from heat stroke if you don’t get inside.” 

“So tell me about your new roomie,” You fall into step, easily keeping pace with Jimin’s strut. He glances over with a tilt of his head, the grip of his stubbed fingers nearly slipping from your overflowing bin. 

“Well, his name is Yoongi and he’s a little older than me. We were cool back in college, we met through Taehyung because they’re from the same city.” Your head dips, acknowledgement seeping from the gesture meant to encourage his continuance, but it never follows suit. 

“Is that it?”

“Huh?”

“Is that all you know about him? His name is Yoongi and you guys were kinda friends in college?” The words come in a scoff, your hand nearly halting Jimin from walking into the building, though the grimace of concentration tugging at his lips pulls you back. “This guy could be waiting to kill you in your sleep and you’re all ‘hey I’ve got a spare room, you should have it’!”

“I think you’re missing the part where I said he’s friends with Taehyung. You like Taehyung, remember?”

“That’s not the point,” You huff, elbow shoving against the elevator key. You glance down, groaning at dirt fallen from the heels of your boots.

“This is why we don’t play in the mud,” Jimin pokes with a click of his tongue. 

“Oh, ha ha. But seriously, Jimin, what did you ask this guy before you just offered him a key?”

“To be fair he doesn’t have a key yet, I had to make copies.” You look deadpan, hands gripping the mud soaked towel and scooping the wasted goop from the freshly polished tile, “I know he’s opening a restaurant in town and he needs a place to stay. Tae knows him really well and he really is a cool guy from what I can remember.”

“I just don’t want you getting yourself into something you’re not prepared for.” 

“Don’t worry, I’d never let some random psycho come to live with me, I’d definitely point them in your direction first.” The two of you step into the elevator, you coming to shove Jimin, his feet stumbling off course and nearly sending him crashing against the adjacent wall. 

“Well aren’t you sweet,” Your finger nudges the fourth floor button and the two of you fall to a relative silence, the lack of chatter a welcome addition to the cool of the tiny space. “So, if he and Tae are such good friends why isn’t this Yoongi guy staying with him?”

“Taehyung is letting another friend of ours crash with him and since I’ve been looking for someone anyways he suggested I let Yoongi move in and I agreed.”

“Oh, I didn’t know he’d found a new roommate already. Last he told me he was still trying to convince Hoseok to move in with him.” You both chuckle, shoulders brushing together. When Hoseok had lived with Jimin the place had never been cleaner. It became commonplace for you and Taehyung to routinely convince him to trade up. 

“Yeah, guess he doesn’t have it in him to replace me just yet.”

“I would agree if it weren’t for the fact that he left you to go live with Jin.” You don’t miss the pout on Jimin’s plump lips, but you choose to ignore him when the elevator doors once again slide open. “My place or yours?”

“Yours, it’s closer.” 

“You live right across the hall,” You don’t earn a response, Jimin’s stride already carrying him toward your front door. Once inside he’s quick to deposit his added weight, hand sliding into his pocket to retrieve his cell. He’s concentrated on the screen of his phone, all pinched brows and pursed lips. You study his delicate features, Jimin’s beauty, not something easily ignored.

His hair is freshly died, the icy blue happily underwhelming after the highlighter pink that shocked you weeks prior. The habit is new, his desire to experiment with different hues sparking the interest of the artist within, but also your concern as his friend. Following the draw of your lips and the card of your hands through his fluffy pink locks it had become your mission to uncover what had caused him to commit the extreme. The details remain unclear, but it’s difficult to ignore the itch telling you this concerns Taehyung.

When you first moved the two introduced themselves in tandem and you immediately picked up on the profound bond they shared. You fell in with them easily, but there was always something untouchable surrounding them. Stars that could never truly be grasped, only gazed upon in hopes of one day having something so beautifully impenetrable. You were then shocked to find out that Hoseok was the one sharing a space with Jimin rather than Taehyung whose apartment was blocks away.  

It didn’t stop him from popping up at all hours and staying for as long as he pleased. He would crash on Jimin’s couch, a blanket and pillow always nestled off to the side for just such an occasion. So it came as a surprise to you when you received a knock on your door nearing midnight all those weeks ago. 

You weren’t sure who you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t Taehyung, bags under his eyes and a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. He asked if he could stay and you showed him to your extra room, the door closing in your face before you could investigate any further.

You’d texted Jimin, sure that Taehyung was meant to stay there and the two must have had a petty fight, but Jimin simply told you that he didn’t know what Taehyung’s problem was. Taehyung’s visits have been scarce since then and even when he did stop by Jimin was nowhere in sight. Jimin on the other hand came knocking at your door the next day to surprise you with his vibrant pink hair. You’d nearly choked on your tea when you saw him, fearing he was going through a quarter life crisis. 

“It’s fine, I’m just trying something new. I’m tired of the same old thing,” He’d explained to you when you dragged him to your bathroom ready to attempt to fix his head. After he continued to spew about all of the colors he wanted to try, simply ignoring you when you asked what Taehyung thought of this, you decided to leave him be.

“Do you like it?”

“Hm?”

“The color, I assume that’s what you were looking at.” He heads to the kitchen, sights set on your stocked fridge.

“Yeah, I think it’s actually very nice. But you know if you dye your hair so close together you’re gonna fry your scalp.” He chucks a water bottle in your direction and you gladly accept it. You press the bottle to your forehead, sighing at the refreshing contrast in temperature. The ice cold condensation drips down the sides of the plastic feeling like heaven against your sweaty skin. 

“I didn’t know you were a hair stylist, why the hell am I paying someone to do this for me?”

“I don’t know, because you could just do it yourself.” You take a long satisfying sip, watching Jimin run his fingers through his hair. You’d think he was just fascinated by the new coloring if you didn’t know him so well, but you do and the stress induced habit is readily recognizable. The cling of the rings decorating his hand draws your eyes from him, though your curiosity remains. 

“Nah, I’d fuck it up. You on the other hand, are a true artist and I would be lucky to have your hands grace my scalp.” Jimin bows his head, his hands pressed together before him.

“Oh? I thought my hands were gross and dirty from all of that army crawling.”

“Oh yeah, you definitely need a shower. You do that and I will order us some food while also continuing to raid your fridge.” You send your eyes rolling but don’t disagree, sending him one last look before you head back to rid yourself of your muddied clothes. 

The smile that Jimin sends you is almost genuine.

“I don’t see why you don’t just come over here and tell him yourself.” The door to your apartment slams, bags swaying along with your unsteady stride. The phone cradled to your ear, sticking to sweat coated skin. You nearly collapse against the kitchen floor, the cool of the counters a welcome relief from the unrelenting heat of summer. 

“I can’t.”

“And why is that?” You challenge, the sigh coming from the other end rivaling the gentle breeze of the air conditioning. “Tae, I know that there’s something going on here and I refuse to be your messenger when you won’t tell me what it is.”

Your arms push against cool granite, forcing your weight to your feet for fear of the ice cream resting against the counter melting after time spent in the sun. Finger pushing against your phone, you slide it against the tabletop as Tae’s voice flows from the speaker. 

“There’s nothing going on, I’ve just been busy.” 

“That’s not what Jimin said,” The line goes silent, your lip quirking at your white lie. You wait with baited breath, Tae’s words coming beats later and shades away from his earlier tone.

“What did Jimin say?” He’s painted with worry and a hint of something you can’t quite grasp. His reaction isn’t quite what you were expecting, the pregnant pause cluing you in on the severity of the new normal between your closest friends, “Y/n?”

“Do you know he’s been dying his hair?” You steer the conversation away, the potential topic you had been prodding at now seeming too raw for a phone conversation. 

“What?”

“Yeah, he’s like trying out the entire rainbow on his head. He’s currently sporting blue, which is actually very nice and it’s certainly not fair how he can make everything work, but I don’t know what’s up with him.”

“Uh....no i didn’t know that. We haven’t really had much of a chance to talk lately.” 

“Hm, I’ll send you pics. Anyways, I’m telling you now that you’re coming to the next movie night. I need to see all of my boys, plus I need a buffer in case this Min Yoongi is actually a killer.” You muse emptying all of your groceries onto the counter. Per Jimin’s request you’re stopping over at his place later to meet Yoongi and you refuse to go empty handed. You eye the ingredients before you, hoping that making cookies is as easy as molding clay. 

“He’s not a serial killer.”

“If you say so,” Your eyes scan the length of the recipe in front of you, hand reaching for your newly purchased bag of chocolate chips, breaking the seal. A handful is shoved past eager lips, “Hey, what do you call chocolate chip cookies without the chocolate chips?”

“Iーwhat?”

“Cause that’s what I’m gonna be baking if my taste buds have anything to say.” 

“I don’t know, just cookies I guess?” From your lips falls a hum, thoughts focused on the melt of the chocolate when your fingers retreat once more into the bag. “I gotta go.”

“Yah, see you, love you, bye!” Taehyung manages before the click of the line.

You trot over to the sink, the chocolate coating your fingers already grossly sticking together. Your tongue runs against the roof of your mouth and over chip covered teeth, savoring the taste whilst your hands rinse clean. Despite the craving biting at your buds you seal the bag of chocolate, shoving  it into the freezer in hopes the chips will retain their shape in time to mix in with the dough. 

“Okay, now letsー” Three sharp taps against the door halt the roll of your shirt, your sleeves now uneven in appearance. “Let’s answer that I guess.”

You move to the door, knowing that it must be someone other than Jimin, his manners null when he pounds his fist incessantly against the wood demanding entrance. Your reluctance to provide him with a key is out of pure spite, the natural pout of his lips always a source of amusement. You pull the door, the trick hinge catching for the briefest moment before you’re met with a figure of unfamiliarity.

“Hello...can I help you?” Your smile is polite, though your eyes are not shy when they wander the form of the man before you. His hair is covered with a snapback, the blonde peeking out from the edges and his brows are highlighted by their contrasting darkness in color. He wears a t-shirt of white and black skinny jeans, worn converse attached to his feet. When your eyes slide back to his, the apples of his cheeks are coated in a faint blush. 

“Um, do you happen to know Park Jimin?” 

“Sadly, yes. What did he do?” Your shoulder drags against the frame of the door, head cocked in exasperation. The man shrugs, lip quirking upwards and his hand rubbing against the base of his neck. 

“Well...nothing. I’m Min Yoongi, I don’t know if he told you, but I’m moving in today.” He shifts on his feet, the plains of his chest stretching the material of his shirt enough to display his pecks. 

“Hmm, so you’re the suspected killer then…”

“Excuse me?”

“...yeah he told me about you,” You cover with a half convincing cough. “I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.”

Your hand extends, the long fingers of Min Yoongi clasping yours, warmth enveloping the skin. You don’t miss the slight rough of his palms, no doubt the buildup of callouses from...whatever it is he does. He pulls away following a brief shake, the two of you falling to relative silence once again. 

“Was there something you needed help with?” You prompt when any sign of his stepping forth remains absent. 

“Oh, sorry,” There goes that blush again. Cute. “Jimin isn’t home and he isn’t answering his phone. He hasn’t given me a key yet so I was hoping you’d know where he is?” 

“Ah, I can’t say I do,” You watch the fall of his features, any qualms that you had upon opening the door momentarily dissipating. “But I can sure as hell try to find out. You wanna come in?”

Yoongi looks unsure, whether it be for fear of imposing or, perhaps, his own suspicions of impending murder you aren’t sure. Though after what feels an eternity of contemplation, and what only serves in reality a few seconds, he nods. He steps through the threshold, the moment feeling altogether symbolic, your initial fears holding no bearing over your desire to help Yoongi in his time of need. 

Your feet guide to the kitchen, legs almost tripping under the watchful stare of a curious stranger. You almost chuckle at the absurdity of your physical anxiety, not fooled into believing it’s lingering fear, but aware that you're not blind to the attractive man following in your wake. 

You waste no time scooping your discarded cell, dialing Jimin and shoving the device to your ear. You glance to Yoongi with a strained grin, the tap of your foot audible against glinting tile. You wince at the automated beep, Jimin’s voicemail reciting in your ear. 

“Jimin! You wonderful, wonderful man...you sent me to voicemail. Well, in case it somehow slipped your mind your new roommate is here and you’re not! He’s currently sitting in my kitchen, so if he does happen to be here to kill me he’ll succeed because I am very sore today and there’s no way I can take him!” 

Your voice falls to a ramble, no mind paid to Yoongi who watches with raised brows, shifting in discomfort. You hang up the phone, all smiles when your eyes once again meet your new neighbor. 

“Well, he didn’t answer so I’m not really sure where he is.” You summarize, well aware of the odd look bestowed from the opposite side of the counter.

“Ah, well I could just come back later…” He’s already risen halfway, stool wobbling under the shift in weight.

“No, you don’t have to go!” You cringe, tone eager and hands extended as if reaching for Yoongi. You immediately dial back, busying with the meaningless movement of empty bowls and fresh ingredients. “Sorry, I just mean, there’s no point in you leaving when Jimin could be back any minute. You’re free to hang out here until he shows up, I promise I don’t bite.” 

You’re sure he’ll say no, nothing thus far indicating the potential for fast friends. A ridiculous notion, you note, as your conversation consisted of nothing but a helpful hand and hurried introductions. Yoongi must feel a tad awkward and under prepared to have met you without much pretense. You’re surprised when he lowers back to the chair, eyes darting to the supplies resting before you. 

“Baking something?” 

“Oh, I was actually just about to bake cookies for you.” You mutter, hand grabbing for the measuring cup to wave for extra emphasis. “I’m pretty horrifying in the kitchen though, so not really sure how they would’ve turned out.” 

“Would’ve?” 

“Oh, well I was planning on making them for when we first met but clearly that’s off the table.” You chuckle, though Yoongi rises from his chair, rounding the counter. 

“I could help you…” His lessened proximity catches you off guard, and you nearly knock the sugar from the counter. “With the cookies I mean, if you want.”

“You bake?”

“Something like that,” Yoongi chuckles rolling his sleeves. His elbow comes to cheekily nudge yours, gesturing to your still half-rolled appearance. Quickly you comply, watching him saunter over to the sink and wet his hands under the faucet, making sure to work in the suds. You avert at the sudden stop of the water, prodding at the unopened flour.

You follow suit, the short venture to the door and back seeming reason enough to rewash. It serves the perfect distraction from your wildly wandering gaze.

“What kind of cookies are we making?” Yoongi calls you to attention, once again observing the ingredients, “I would guess chocolate chip, but I don’t see any.” 

“I put them in the freezer, they got a little gooey on the ride home and I’m hoping they’ll be ready to go in a bit.” You shrug, nursing a kitchen towel to dry your hands. You feel suddenly out of place in your own kitchen, Yoongi’s presence irrevocably demanding as he moves around searching for various items. You suddenly realize he could use your expertise as the owner of said items. 

You easily fall into routine, Yoongi guiding you to assistance, sure not to bestow a task too taxing. His faith seems to have dwindled when you mistook sugar for flower despite your hurried, and valid, explanation of paying half attention. What had been difficult was explaining where the other half remained focused. 

You aren’t opposed to blunt honesty, but you suppose Jimin would prefer if you kept your candor to a minimum so early on. So you easily complied, the goal of freshly baked goods guiding you to the halfway mark of a twelve minute cook time. 

“The cookies will still be all soft and gooey after ten minutes, right? I love to feel like I’m still eating the dough,” You muse, eyes focused on the oven, a cookie’s kiln. You drag your gaze back to Yoongi, his own focus on the painting in the far corner. His head rests at a tilt, eyes widened and mouth ajar. 

“Did you paint that?” You take in the aged swirls of purple and blue, the blackened rim sending a jolt down your chilled spine. 

“Yeah...a long time ago.” Your response is hushed, an accidental tell that drags Yoongi back to the counter, covered in white. “So about the cookies...gooey?” 

“I’m not sure who’s been feeding you half raw cookies, butー”

“I’m here!” Jimin’s shrill cry penetrates the closed door, floating down the hall and to your peeled ears. To the back of your head your eyes roll as your feet lead to the front door, swinging it open. Jimin stands with labored breath, his hands braced against his hips and his hair dangling across his forehead in sweat soaked strands. “I’m here.”

“So you are, and where have you been?” Jimin shoves his way past you, the moment reminiscent of just a few days prior. You whirl around, shoving the door back into place. “And why are you sweating like a pig?” 

“It’s hot as shit outside,” The words are dismissive, Jimin brushing a hand to his forehead, sweeping hair back to perfection. He straightens his posture, breath finally evened, “Did Yoongi say he was coming back later?”

“No, he’s in the kitchen. I told him he could just wait it out here.”

“Really? You let a potential killer into your home and I’m the crazy one?” You shove him forward, stepping past to make your way back to where Yoongi waits. He’s pulling the tray of cookies from the oven when you arrive, eyeing the baked goods as if he can see through them. 

“Look who finally showed up,” You joke, falling back as Jimin steps into the room. 

“Sorry about that, I got caught up and completely lost track of time.” Jimin hurriedly explains, hand showing to his front pocket to produce his keys. He clumsily removes one, handing it over to Yoongi, the freshly pressed metal a contrast to the light rust of the rest.

“Thanks, it’s no problem Jimin-ah, it was a nice chance to get to know my new neighbor.” Yoongi sends you a smile, amicable enough given the little time you’ve spent. He then turns back to the cookies with a satisfied click of his tongue. “I don’t know if they’re gooey enough, but they’re definitely finished.” 

“You made him make you cookies?” Jimin expresses in exasperation, his tone not keeping him from his gentle steps forward as Yoongi transfers the treats to a cooling rack. 

“I didn’t make him do anything! He offered to help and I so gratefully accepted,” You scoff, sneaking a hand to a cookie only to receive a light tap from Yoongi’s free one. Your lips pull to a pout, the delectable scent leaving you to salivate with want. Instead you turn to the fridge, offering Jimin a bottle of water. He downs the contents in no time, his still damp skin glistening like the ocean in the sun under the light shining through the open window. 

“I was glad to do it, I mean, the gesture was enough, but I’d like my cookies to be edible.” Yoongi pulls the oven mit that still rests over his hand and tosses it to the side. He turns to Jimin gesturing toward the exit, “I think I should probably move in soon. Don’t wanna bother the new neighbors with unnecessary noise, plus I have a meeting early tomorrow.” 

“Oh, yeah sure! Hoseok is on his way to help and he might be bringing Jin.” Jimin mutters, tossing his bottle into the bin. You push off to the side with the intent to clean the substantial mess coating the counter. You wager how much more of a mess it would have been had Yoongi not knocked at the perfect time. “We’ll see you later, Y/n.”

“You should take your cookies,” You call when the two look ready to split. Yoongi turns with a half smile.

“You keep ‘em, think of it as my present to you.” You’re prepared to tell him that isn’t how it works, but he’s already rounded the corner, Jimin sending you a knowing look before he does the same. 

Despite the little time allowed for cooling you pull a cookie from the tray, wincing at the slight burn, and take a bite. Immediately you’re moaning in satisfaction, a smile upon your lips when you realize that they’re just perfectly under baked. 

“How’s the new neighbor?” Namjoon wonders, hand absently tracing the edges of his notebook. His glasses push against the bridge of his nose, his concentration on the page before him long gone since your entrance. 

“He’s fine...nice,” You chirp, gathering your own notebook and pencils ready for sketching. Though you’re wholly focused on the task before you, it’s difficult to ignore the gaze burning through you. “What?”

“Fine? Nice? Could you give me a little more? Last I heard you were worried about the guy and now you have nothing to say. I think I deserve a little explanation.” Namjoon urges, pen tapping against the expanse of the wooden table, his mug, half filled, light clinking against its dish. 

You’re no fool, his act of procrastination not lost on you, but you think it’ll be good to voice your thoughts and opinions. You haven’t actually spoken to Yoongi since that first day, but you’re still holding onto that unfamiliar feeling that unknowingly crawled into your chest and set up camp. 

“I don’t really know him, but he seems nice enough. He baked me cookies,” You smile at the thought, half of the batch unhealthily consumed that very night. You begin to doodle absentmindedly, your goal lost in a cloud of undecipherable emotions. “I don’t know what it is, but I can’t stop thinking about him, it’s actually kind of crazy.” 

“I’m inclined to agree,” Namjoon huffs, sipping what’s left of his drink. He watches the steady movement of your hand, gliding back and forth without care, lines and edges mixing perfectly. “I hope this isn’t some adolescent love at first sight kind of thing. Those never end well.”

“Love at first sight sounds so juvenile,” You groan, nearly smudging a heavy line of lead. “It’s more like an unexplored attraction.”

“You’ve met him once,” Namjoon deadpans, his pen falling back into his grip. 

“And it was nice, there wasn’t much substance, but it felt like there could be.” You ignore the outlandish look being sent your way, continuing on with your spontaneous drawing. Instead you redirect the conversation, mood not ripe for being scrutinized by your supposed friend. You know that his words hold some truth, but it’s been a while since you’ve allowed yourself to accept your feelings so openly. 

“Are you coming to movie night? Yes, of course you are, I don’t know why I asked.” You answer your own question, Namjoon’s mouth left to flounder like a fish. “Everyone’s gonna be there, you’ll finally have the chance to meet Yoongi and have all of your questions answered.”

“Of course I’ll be there, why is this the first I’m hearing of it?” He seems offended, your hands coming to rest at the edge of the table.

“Oh, I’m sorry, but your whole ‘don’t bother me when I’m in the middle of a breakthrough’ rule kind of limited my window. Plus, I’m not even sure when it’ll be yet.” 

“Fair enough. Is Taehyung coming?” 

“Of course Taehyung is coming, why wouldn’t he come?” Your mind has momentarily decided to block the memory of your possibly feuding friends, the thought that Taehyung wouldn’t come never even crossing your mind. You almost reach for your phone, half a mind to dial him right then, but the potential of his response is low.

“Aren’t you the one convinced that he and Jimin are on the fritz?” 

“On the fritz? What are you, eighty?” You tease, nudging at Namjoon’s calf underneath the table. His ears tint slightly and he takes to rolling his pen along the table top. You chuckle, clasping the top of his hand with your own, “I’m kidding, but yes, they’re still not really speaking. I’ll just stop by to see Taehyung later, force him to come and maybe get a little more out of him.” 

“Ah yes, your powers of persuasion.” He chuckles chasing the sound with a sudden groan, his hands coming to encase his head. 

“What’s up?”

“This story, I’ve got nothing, which means that I’ve got nothing for you to illustrate.” He removes his glasses, the frames falling to the table. “I thought when I came to you with this idea that things would just fall into place. I can barely formulate a coherent sentence, let alone a whole novel.” 

“Hey, you’ll get there. What is it that people say, Rome wasn’t built in a day? It’s a little obvious, but true nonetheless.” You encourage, a small smile already playing on Namjoon’s lips, “We aren’t in a rush, we want to enjoy the process, not feel like we’re being pushed to the finish line.” 

“I know you’re right, but that doesn’t make it any less frustrating.” He sighs, head shaking at his frustration. “You should go ahead and head out, I don’t really think I’m gonna need much on your end today.” 

You glance down at your sketch, a mess of lines and shapes that somehow appeared pleasing to the eye. You offer one more glance in Namjoon’s direction, his own eyes on your page.

“It’s nice, I think maybe you should add a little color to it.”

It’s only seconds before Taehyung is letting you into his apartment, his hair slightly damp letting you know he’s just showered. Your trip to his place follows a two hour session, your mood substantially brightened, only adding to your delighted mood from earlier. You follow Taehyung to the living room, plopping onto the sofa with a relieved sigh. The cool leather squishes beneath your thighs, a feeling as close as you’ll get to diving into a pool. 

“What’s up?” Taehyung asks, legs lifting to rest against the coffee table. He seems altogether different from that day he’d knocked on your door seeking refuge. As a matter of fact, he seems unbothered, like there’s nothing plaguing him as of late. He finds himself flipping through various channels on the television, paying no mind to your lack of response as you stare into the side of his head. 

“You’re coming to movie night, right?” 

“Huh?” 

“Movie night, we’re having one. Are you coming still? We talked the other day, but I just wanna make sure.” You explain, eyes falling to the screen, the channel stopped on some news station. You know Taehyung is thinking on your words rather than listening to the evening weather report, your lip falling between your teeth.

“I don’t know…”

“Why not?”

“Jimin and I haven’t really talked lately and I just think it’d be weird.” He shrugs, his outward demeanor showing lack of impact, though you know that inside he’s wrestling with his own words. The two of them haven’t seriously fought since you’ve known them and it’s clear that whatever the issue is it’s eating at both of them. 

“And why is that?” You once again try your hand, tired of having to dance around the topic. Taehyung shifts, his hand clenching around the remote to match the movement of his jaw.  “You two are apparently having this huge thing and not speaking to each other and I’m just standing here wondering what could possibly be so terrible that you’re shutting out your best friend.” 

“Just drop it, Y/n.” You ignore his dismissal, determined to get him to open up. 

“Tae, you need to talk about this! If not with Jimin then you could at least confide in me, let me try to help. I’m so tired of having to work around the two of you just so we can hang out! Besides, your friend is now living with him, don’t you think it would be weird if you didn’t show up to movie night or come around ever?” 

“I can make plans with Yoongi here.” 

You groan at Taehyung’s inability to see your point of view, the ever growing tear between him and Jimin seeming so fragile from where you’re standing.

“Taehyung, I justー”

“Let it go, Y/n! It’s none of your business and I’m a little sick of you trying to worm your way into the middle of things,” You start at Tae’s sudden outburst, his anger lifting him from his position on the couch. He cards a hand roughly through his hair, heaving in anger. You slightly cower when his attention once again settles on you, “You know, I actually find it pretty damn ironic that you think you’ve got some magical powers to fix this.”

“What do you mean,” You manage, voice a low mumble.

“You know what I mean,” He chuckles, a sound lacking his usual glee. “If Jimin and I hadn’t knocked on your door two years ago you’d still be sitting alone in your apartment nursing half finished paintings and crusted piles of dirt. So please don’t sit here like you know anything about what’s happening and maybe learn how to handle your own problems before you get in the middle of mine.” 

You sit, stunned by his sudden words. The sharpness of his tone stabs through your heart, a fragile ecosystem only just beginning to embrace recovery. Taehyung seems to realize his words, the unshed tears threatening your ducts bring your hand to subconsciously swipe at your dry cheeks. 

“Y/n Iー”

“Heyo!” You jump at the intrusion of a third party, twisting to see who must be Taehyung’s new roommate walking in. He handles a bag of takeout, the scent, something that would normally have you ready to pounce on this unfamiliar character, but right now it fuels your sudden need to vomit. The pounding in your ears accompanies the rapid beat of your heart as you stand. “Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn’t know you were having company. I bought extra if you’re interested.” 

“No no, I just came to remind Tae about the movie night I’m having in the near future. You’re invited of course, I wanna get to know my friends’ new roommates. I’m Y/n by the way, you must be Jeongguk.” You extend your hand ignoring the feeling of Taehyung still watching you, gaze remorseful. 

“Oh yeah, Taehyung’s mentioned you. You’re an artist, right? I’d love to see your stuff sometime.” Jeongguk is quick to deposit the bags, eagerly gripping your hand in his own, his smile enough to pull one with actual meaning from yourself. “Like I said, you’re welcome to join us if you want.” 

“No thank you, I’ve gotta get going, but I’ll see you two soon?”

“Wouldn’t miss it!” Jeongguk responds, letting your hand fall to your side. You offer Taehyung one last nod of acknowledgement, your eyes barely resting on his for a second before you make your escape. 

Upon collapse into the front seat of your car, you wait for the arrival of a sob or a stray tear, but find nothing and that’s what truly pains you. It’s almost as if Taehyung’s words triggered a numbness within you, the factual nature behind his verbal assault enough to leave you in a spiral. You force your key into the ignition, hands braced against the wheel. 

Your mind is a confusing loop of everything and nothing, no clear focus to ground you to the moving vehicle. You were unprepared for the sudden events and now you feel the urge to cry and empty the little content that rolls around inside of you, but you do none of that when you finally step into your home. 

The lights remain off, the dim of the place somehow a comfort in the midst of your emotional turmoil. You toss your keys, the clatter of your lucky throw to the table only slightly startling you. You begin your trek to your bedroom, stopping momentarily to eye the painting that Yoongi had been caught on the other day. 

 A begonia, blues and purples bursting from the cursed flower like spilled ink. Your fingers come to brush the frame of the canvas, wrapping around with the intent to remove. Something stops you, internal refrain pulling your lead-like limbs back to task. 

You fall to your bed with a thud, hands resting against your stomach, eyes trained on the ceiling. You note the ping of your phone, the vibration from nearby seeming a great distance from your current state. 

There’s a tugging in your brain, like muscles yanking tangled vines, an annoyance that makes little sense, but still remains constant. You wish the effect of words were like the saying, your physicality all but unharmed unlike your bruised psyche. 

You have half a mind to ignore the sound just outside of your door, unsure who could be in need of your presence. A small portion of you imagines it’s Taehyung, equipped with a half meaningful apology, but your limbs are too tired to satisfy your curiosity. 

“Y/n, you home?” You shoot forward at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, faint through the edges and corners through which it  travels, but still recognizable. You find yourself hurrying to the door, the desire to see Yoongi somehow working past your dormant state. You answer just in time, his heel in a half turned state, as if he was prepared to step away. “Ah, I thought I heard you come home...not that I was listening for you.”

“Hmm, shame,” You find yourself joking, even with the lack of enthusiasm in your tone. Yoongi seems to sense your demeanor, his brows scrunching in question.

“Are you okay? I can come back if this is a bad time.”

“No, it’s fine. As good a time as any. Did you need something?” 

Yoongi seems to falter a little, as if he’s suddenly nervous about his impromptu visit. Your hands raps against the cool of the doorknob, the other bracing against the wood doorframe. You wait patiently, watching as Yoongi seemingly tries to find the correct words. 

He’s different from the first time you met him. His posture is more comfortable, he exudes the confidence radiating from his very impressive outfit, though as he inhales through his teeth you wonder if you’d gotten it wrong.

“Do you wanna go out with me? I mean, go out somewhere with me, not go out, we barely know each other.” You both fall to awkward chuckles, your own thoughts not sure whether to soar or fall at the misstep in his words. Your force away the desire to over analyze, remembering the words spoken to you not an hour prior. “I wanna show you something.” 

“Then show me something.”

When Yoongi dragged you from the building, leading you to his car you hadn’t expected him to drive into the city. You don’t often frequent the hustle and bustle, but you don’t miss a chance to appreciate it when you do. The lights of buildings and the various shapes and designs draw you in. It’s flashy and busy, completely gobbling up the stars that you’re used to twinkling above. 

“I always forget how beautiful the city can be at night.” You muse aloud, head resting against the side of the car. 

Yoongi paints a faint smile with his lips, eyes focused on the road whilst you remain entranced by the passing scenery. Though it’s not unusual you’re surprised by the number of people still out and about. It makes you want to blend with the crowd even with the knowledge that your chest would be pounding with each step.

“So, where is it that you’re taking me?” You ask, for what must be far too many times not to cause Yoongi annoyance, but he only chuckles at your enthusiasm. 

“Here.” He pulls to a stop in front of a building lining the street with dozens of others, though this one doesn’t hold the same life, no lights or people decorating the interior. You glance at the sign in curiosity. 

“Gochyeo Goshi,” You say to yourself before turning to Yoongi. “It’s closed.” 

“Yeah, it’s not ready yet. We’re hoping to open the doors by next month.” 

“Oh, I completely spaced! You and Jeongguk are opening a restaurant, that’s amazing.” You squeal, your hand grabbing Yoongi’s in your excited stupor. You unbuckle, hopping out of the car. You’re eager to see the inside, what it will look like when people are packed from wall to wall.

Yoongi follows your lead, though you notice a slow to his step, his nervous energy from earlier returning full force. You think it’s endearing, the way he becomes so bashful when it comes to his accomplishments. You recall when he neglected to speak on his cooking prowess when he insisted on helping you bake. 

“It’s a little unimpressive right now, we’ve been busy working on the more logistical side of things…” He hastily explains, sifting through his keys to find the right one. 

“I’m sure it’s great, the fact that you guys are even doing this is already impressive.” 

He clumsily slides the key in, pushing the door open for you to enter. Your gait is slow, excited to see the space that Yoongi and Jeongguk were able to call their own. You and Namjoon have been toying with the idea of acquiring your own space for a few years and knowing someone who’s done it gives you more drive to follow through. 

Yoongi steps in behind you, hurrying to find a light switch for fear of you tripping over an ill timed chair. When he does, the overheads flood the building, the bare white walls and the low beamed ceiling simple, but still drawing the place together nicely. The dining area is just the perfect size for a medium crowd, decorated just enough to get a feel for the vibe they’re going for. 

“I love it,” You turn to Yoongi, your toothy smile on full display to match his own gummy grin. “What made you guys want to open a restaurant together?”

Yoongi makes his way to one of the tables, taking a seat. You follow suit, still eyeing the space, but focused on Yoongi’s words just the same. 

“Well, I’ve loved lamb skewers for as long as I can remember and I introduced them to Jeongguk when we were younger. He was the only one that always wanted to go with me, so it became our thing.” He explains, a fond look in his faraway eyes. “We started talking about what it’d be like to open our own restaurant and here we are.” 

“Wow, I guess dreams really do spark reality.” The two of you lock gazes, your eyes drinking his in like a woman dehydrated. “You have really nice eyes.”

“Oh...thanks,” Yoongi ducks his head, a faint blush creeping to his cheeks. “You have a really nice smile.” 

“You know, you don’t have to pay a compliment with a compliment.” You tease, embarrassing him even more. “I’m telling you because I like you, not because I want you to pay it forward.”

You hope he’s able to grasp the deeper meaning behind your words, a part of you begging to elaborate, but the other part knowing that it’d probably scare him off. Yoongi clears his throat, shifting under your gaze. 

“The reason I called you here actually,” His tone shifts to something more serious given the environment. You internally sigh, the moment clearly past without much success in your attempt at half confession. “Jimin told me that you’re an artist and I remember that painting I saw at your place.” 

“Yeah, I like to think I’m pretty good.” 

“Well, I’m sure you’ve noticed that this place could stand for some decoration,” He gestures to the walls, the plain white nothing to draw an ordinary gaze. “I was hoping that you’d be interested in painting a mural for me, well Jeongguk and I.” 

“Me?”

“Yeah, you’re very good and we’d be happy to have you do it. That is, if you want. We’ll pay you of course and you can set your own hours just as long as it’s finished in time for opening.” Yoongi hurriedly fills in, stumbling over words as you watch him with widened eyes. 

You find it hard to hide your surprise, the thought of Yoongi asking you to do something so important absolutely astounding. 

“I mean, I’d love to do it, but are you sure?” 

“Positive. So, are you in?”

“Absolutely, you just made a very bad night a whole lot better. Now, do you happen to have actual food here yet? Because I am actually very hungry and I’m surprised you haven’t heard my stomach growling.” You clutch your midsection, the emptiness within gnawing away at you. 

“Oh I heard it, I just thought it would be better not to say anything.” You shove at his arm with a scoff. 

“Ow, sorry! I don’t have food here, but there’s this really amazing takeout place just around the corner.” 

“Lead the way.” 

“I don’t understand why I have to come.” Jimin whines from the front seat, sipping on his drink in feigned annoyance. 

This morning when you’d awoken, eager to get started on your new project you exited your apartment to find Jimin about to enter his, grocery bag in hand. You were able to intercept it before he could get away, extracting a brand new dye kit and staring down a sheepish Jimin. 

“You can’t keep dying your hair Jimin, there’s no way this is healthy!” You exclaim, your eyes darting over to him before your focus falls back to the road. He only grumbles, no reason for argument as you’ve already confiscated his purchase. “I’m just saying, I like the blue and you should keep it going a bit longer before you bleach your scalp to pieces.” 

“That’s not a thing.” 

“It is if I say it is,” You counter, tongue poking in his direction. “Besides, don’t you think it would do you some good to hang out with me?” 

“You specifically?” You hum and Jimin grips the point of his chin in silent contemplation, “No, not really.” 

You choose to ignore his comment, focus on pulling into the nearest available parking spot.

“What do you think of Yoongi?” 

Jimin is hopping out of the car before you’ve had the chance to come to a complete stop, his sights already set on the entrance. 

“Yoongi? I mean, he’s my friend, my roommate...he’s a cool guy. I’m not sure what you’re asking,” Jimin leans against the hood of the car, immediately pulling back at the burn of his skin. A sigh escapes you, arms folding over your chest.

“I don’t know...I just…”

“Wait…” Jimin trails, scanning you with suspicion. “Do you like Yoongi?”

You don’t respond and that's enough for Jimin. He chuckles at your avoidance of his gaze, feet shifting against the pavement.

“Shut up.” You mumble, moving to the back of your car, throwing the trunk open. 

“Can I be honest here?” He asks, moving closer, tone even. You nod, straightening from where you leaned to the back of your car. “I don’t think you two are really a good fit.”

“Why not?” 

“You’re just too different,” He shrugs, feeling that’s enough explanation. You however press him for more, not understanding his quick dismissal of the idea. “It’s like...would you date Namjoon?”

“No!” Is your immediate response, not in a disgusted sort of way, but you can’t see yourself as anything more than friends with him for a number of reasons. 

“But you don’t hate Namjoon or think that he’s unattractive, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Well that’s how I see you and Yoongi. You don’t strike me as compatible as anything more than friends, sure he’s handsome and a pretty cool guy, but you just don’t fit.” He finishes, “I’m not saying that I don’t support you in whatever you do, but that’s just my opinion. There are plenty of other guys that would fit you perfectly.” 

You nod, no words coming to mind. You hadn’t expected Jimin to be so blunt, a common thread with your friends as of late. He offers a quick pat to the shoulder before turning to the entrance.

“You could at least help me with my things!” You call after him to which he only waves you off with a shrug. You get to work unloading your trunk, sighing at the number of things you have to carry. You inwardly curse your absent friend, reminding yourself to outwardly curse him later.

You’re distracted by a sudden text from Namjoon, who only wonders how things are going, his chain of messages resembling those of a nosey younger sibling. He’s been pestering you about your crush since you filled him in, your recount of the night Yoongi showed up only fueling his tease filled ramblings. You send him a short, sweet reply, sure to include a kindly worded threat about his behavior.

You imagine for a moment if this were Yoongi instead, trying to make sense of Jimin’s perspective.

“Need some help?” You jump, finding Jeongguk waiting just inches from you, hands resting in his pockets. You eye your growing pile and turn back to him with hopeful eyes.

“Would you mind? It seems someone has no interest in helping me out,” You send a glare to where Jimin leans against the door. He shoots you a wink and you return it with an unkind gesture to which he only cackles.

“Not at all.” Jeongguk responds, already leaning down to collect your first two boxes. 

With Jeongguk’s help you’re able to move things inside in no time. You note that there’s already tarp laid out for you and the furniture is pushed from the walls to allow you ample space. 

“Have any idea what you wanna do?” Jeongguk asks from just over your shoulder. You eye the blank space before turning to him.

“Oh, I figured the two of you might have something in mind. I don’t wanna take over completely, it is your restaurant.” 

“But it’s your mural. We trust you to make the right decision,” He assures you. You nod, turning back to your canvas. 

“I see you’re already hard at work,” You spot Yoongi walking through the door, a box of donuts perched in one hand. You smile, very aware of Jimin’s eyes following your movements. “I assume Jeongguk filled you in on everything? Have any ideas on your big masterpiece?” 

“Well...I was thinking, this place is in the midst of this city, the streets almost always filled with people, it can get crazy. Some people want nothing more than to be someone in the crowd, but they’d also just rather be somewhere cozy and without the stress of all the people and the lights.” 

“I’m following,” Jimin cuts in, his hands collapsed before him as if his opinion is life or death. You toss an empty water cup his way hitting your mark with a resounding thud.

“As I was saying, I want to paint something that will make people feel like they belong here while also feeling like they’re out there,” Your hand comes to point in the direction of the front window, people rushing by as if to further prove your point. “A still city, something that still holds the absolute beauty of the exhilarating rush, while allowing those who enjoy it to take a breath and just relax while they enjoy some delicious skewers.”

You finish your small presentation, watching both of your new employers’ faces alight with enthusiasm. 

“I love it,” Jeongguk is first to say, his eyes roaming the walls as if he can already picture the ornate design. You both turn to Yoongi, his expression a little less telling though he still allows a smirk to plant against his features. You wait, hopeful of his impending response, this somehow feeling worlds apart from Jeongguk’s readied approval.

“Me too.” 

You spend the coming weeks working on various projects, your days spent at the restaurant only motivating you more in your venture with Namjoon. He doesn’t fully understand your fit of passion but he appreciates it all the same. 

You spend your days furthering your mural and nights with Namjoon when his schedule allows. The two of you brainstorm and make rough drafts, the work feeling like mountains of progress even if half of your ideas seem less constructive in the light of day. 

Most days you spend in relative silence save for the tunes you play in the background the more than occasional burst into song keeping you from getting too caught up. Jeongguk filters in more often than not, happy to keep you company. You’ve gotten to know him quite well, his eagerness to express his passions meshing well with your lack of desire to vocalize your own. 

It’s rare that Yoongi is seen walking through the doors, the days that he does serving as an extra reward for your hard work. He usually only stops for a quick check-in, but today he finds himself pulling a chair. You send him a smile, sure to pull your brush from the wall for fear of an accidental stroke.

“Hi,” You hum, noting the slight slump in his posture. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine, are you alright?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask, tone soaked in confusion. He shrugs, sitting back in his chair, pinky lifting to scratch just beneath his blonde fringe. 

“You never told me what was wrong.”

“Hm?” 

“The night I asked you to do this. You were clearly upset about something, but you never told me what it was. Come to think of it, you don’t really share much about yourself at all.” You seem to shrink in on yourself at his words, the accusation too heavy for you to ignore. 

“I mean, you can ask me whatever you want, but there’s not really much to tell. I don’t like talking much about me,” The truth, or half at least, but enough to keep him at bay. 

“Why’s that?” 

“Why does it matter all of a sudden?” Your tone is defensive, his words dragging it out of you. 

“I’m just trying to figure you out. All I know about you so far as that you’re not a very good cook and you’re good at making art.”

“That’s all you need to know,” You counter with a growl. “Do you mind if I get back to this? Your opening is coming up soon and I’d like it if I wasn’t scrambling last minute.” 

“No one’s stopping you,” He waves you forward. With a sigh you turn back to the wall, brush making a few new strokes against steadily drying paint before you stop once again.

“Do you know what hikaru dorodango is?” You ask, setting your brush to the side and finding a seat against the paint stained tarp. Unsurprisingly Yoongi responds with a negative shake of the head, his hands coming to clasp before him. “It’s basically turning mud into marble. It can take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks.” 

You pick at paint half-dried to your shirt, silence stretching between you. You aren’t sure if Yoongi is processing or if he just finds no interest in your words, refusing to look up at him. 

“It was the first form of art that I felt like I was really amazing at,” You chuckle, memories of millions of failed attempts come to mind, leading to your first success. “I never really had many friends growing up, I preferred it that way because it always seemed so much more difficult for me to open up to people, so I was always the odd one out.”

Yoongi still doesn’t speak, but you chance a glance to find that he’s listening with all of his attention. His posture has him leaning on his bouncing legs, eyes focused in a squint. 

“The point is, like me, dorodango takes time. It’s always been hard for me to completely let people in, but that doesn’t mean I never will. You just have to be willing to take a chance on me.” You finish with a sigh. 

You wait, stuck on an inhale, as Yoongi mulls over his response. You’re surprised at yourself for your surprising admission, taking over a month to even tell Taehyung and Jimin your favorite movie. 

“Fair enough,” He finally says. “We’ve known each other for close to a month, do you think I’ve earned at least one fact?”

“I think I just served you a pretty big one, but I think maybe I can outdo myself.” You say the words before you can really think over what you’re about to do. The words of both Jimin and Namjoon ring in your head and you’re sure Taehyung would say much the same. You haven’t known Yoongi for terribly long, but you know that if you wait any longer you’ll psych yourself out.

“Do your worst.” 

“I like you...a lot.” He’s visibly taken aback by your words, his eyes widening and his hands fidgeting in his lap. “It’s kind of crazy but I’ve liked you since the moment that I met you, of course then it was just blind attraction, but since I’ve gotten to know you I realize that I’m really interested in you.” 

“I…” Yoongi clears his throat, trying to find words, mouth opening and closing more times than you can count. 

“I know it probably seems so ridiculous, I mean, I said the words and I can barely wrap my head around it. But if you just give us a chance, I thinkー”

“No.” He cuts through your words, head shaking adamantly, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not really my type.” It’s your turn to be shocked by his words. Of all of the things that could’ve come from his mouth you hadn’t expected that. 

“I’m not...your type? What does that even mean?” 

“It means that I really like you as a friend, but I can’t really see us as anything more.” Fine, you think, you can respect that. “You can be overbearing and nosy yet in that same breath you lack self-confidence. You’re so afraid to bother people with your problems that you try to fight your way into theirs just to make yourself feel better.”

You realize where all of this is coming from. Since Yoongi stepped foot through those doors he’s been working under the knowledge of Taehyung. You aren’t surprised that Tae told someone, though it certainly wouldn’t be Jimin, the two still not on good terms. Why wouldn’t he tell Yoongi?

“So, you waltz in here and tell me that I’m almost a stranger to you, but now you suddenly know me so well? You’re making assumptions based on what you heard from Taehyung who is currently probably very pissed at me.” You argue, the fire beginning to rage inside of your chest causing the squeeze of lengthened nails into calloused palms. 

“I know enough, and I’m truly not trying to hurt you, Y/n. I’m trying to tell you that you have your own issues that you need to work out and I’m not equipped to deal with them. Honestly I’m not looking for anything complicated right now and that’s exactly what you are.” 

“A complicated problem that needs to be dealt with?” 

“That’s not what I meant,” He rises from his chair at the same time you rise from the ground. While his attention remains on you, yours falls to putting away your supplies and making sure to rinse paint from each of your brushes. 

“It honestly doesn’t matter, I get the hint and I’m so sorry to have inconvenienced you. But, here’s a tip,” You toss your last brush and whirl around to face him, the two of you closer than you anticipated. You can feel the heat radiating through you, anger consuming you to the point that you can’t even feel whatever attraction you have for him at this moment. He’s just a face, another person telling you everything that’s wrong. “You could’ve just stopped at no thanks.” 

You don’t give him the chance to rebuttal, sights set on getting as far away as possible. You feel a slight wetness against your cheek, your hand coming to swipe at the irritating sensation. When you realize it’s the fall of a tear you're only thrown into an even further downward spiral. Angry that of all things this is what gets to you, someone who was never even interested. 

“I know this probably isn’t what you wanna hear right now, but you have to get over him.” Namjoon speaks in a hushed tone, your tear stained cheek sticking to the skin of his arm. 

You found yourself outside of his apartment soon after you left the restaurant, just needing a shoulder to cry on. He was surprised to see you, knowing that you’re usually routine left you paint stained and focused on your mural. When he saw the tears streaming from your ducts he was quick to usher you inside and has been attempting to soothe you since. 

“I know, I don’t even know why I’m crying. It’s not like we were ever dating, according to Yoongi we’re practically perfect strangers.” 

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that...it was probably just a heat of the moment thing. You did, kind of, spring this on him.” 

You scoff, glancing up at Namjoon in betrayal. “I’m sorry, are you not on my side? What was I supposed to do, send him an invitation?” 

“Look, I’m not saying that it's right what he said, but it’s fair to say that given the discussion at hand you smacked him with a ball out of left field. The bright side here is that you know that he doesn’t have feelings for you and you can give up this idea that you two are meant to be.”  Namjoon explains, doing wonders to stop you from interrupting him, his hand coming to rest over your mouth. You fight the urge to lick his palm, recalling the way he’s spilled glue on himself just before you arrived. 

“Stop making it sound like I’m some lovesick puppy, Joon. It just sucks to not even be given a chance, and to be rejected so harshly.” You groan, pulling one of his throw pillows against your chest. 

“It’s kind of like that one movie…” He muses, clearly living in his own thoughts, eyes spaced out. 

“What movie?”

“You know, the one with the girl and the guy that don’t end up together. It’s got some big life lessons that you don’t learn to respect until you’re older,” He informs you, having more faith in your knowledge than even makes sense. 

“I don’t have time for your riddles, can I just sulk in peace?” 

“As long as you promise that after you sulk you’ll try to get over him,” Namjoon pokes at your puffed cheeks, only pulling away to wipe your tears onto his shirt. You don’t respond, unsure if what pains is the thought of just moving on or the idea that moving on doesn’t sound so hard. 

Something changed in you during your conversation with Yoongi. You feel it’s a number of things, but something has made Yoongi’s rejection seem a lot less detrimental than you previously thought. It begs the question of whether your feelings for Yoongi have already begun to dissipate or if they were truly feelings to begin with.

“Y/n?” Namjoon waves a hand before you, drawing your gaze back to him. “Promise me. I don’t want you falling back into this pattern. I don’t agree with everything that he said, but he was right about one thing. You should take time to heal yourself or find someone who accepts you and has the patience to heal with you.” 

“Fine, yeah, I hear you. No more Min Yoongi.” 

Colors II

[untaemedqueen]

Occasional Gifting

Husband!Namjoon x Reader

WordCount: 4.5k

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Warnings : Impregnation Kink, Daddy Kink, Praise, Spanking, Soft Dom!Namjoon, Orgasm Denial, Spitting, Cream Pie, Cunnilingus, Ass Play (Very Light), Finger Sucking, Cum Eating, Degradation (Cum Whore, Cum Bucket, Cum Slut)

"I'm fucking sick of this," you grumble, throwing the ninth pregnancy test of the month in the garbage. 

Namjoon looks up at you over his glasses, setting down his pen and notepad. He frowns, watching you stare into the garbage. 

You've been trying and trying for a baby for the past year but nothing has been working. The fear that Namjoon has been keeping in the back of his mind is that he's been so over worked and stressed that his semen probably isn't at its strongest. His sperm was probably weakening every day from his tiresome schedule. 

You close your eyes, crossing your arms. You sniffle gently, an oncoming sign of your tears that your husband hates to see. 

"Come here." Namjoon whispers softly. 

His lips form a thin, guilty line when you look over at him. You trudge over to him, your slippers making loud scratching noises against the heated floor. 

You throw yourself onto his lap with a whine. 

"I'll try to de-stress myself more, my semen isn't as strong as you need it to be. I'll be better. I'm sorry." Namjoon whispers, nuzzling his face into your neck. 

There were plenty of reasons you were sure as to why you weren't pregnant at the moment. 

It probably wasn't all Namjoon's fault. He runs his fingers through his blonde mullet before putting his head back, his shoulders rippling as he holds you tightly to him. 

"I want a baby so badly." you whisper, putting your hand over your empty womb. He nods understandingly, his hands rubbing your sides comfortingly as he holds you close. 

"We'll figure it out, baby. Don't be discouraged." Namjoon says, looking out your apartment window watching the sun set allowing the night sky to take over the day. 

Namjoon walks through the airport, his head lowered as girls scream around him. 

He check his phone, feeling his manager press his hand to his back trying to hurry him up. His fingers click rapidly on his calendar app, the app can’t load fast enough for him. He needs to see what day it is.

When the app finally loads, a lopsided smile graces his face.

Today is the day. You’re ovulating.  

"I'll head home first! Gotta check on the wife!" Namjoon tells his group mates, walking faster towards baggage claim with a manager on his tail.

“Have fun!” Seokjin calls to him with a laugh. 

He would get home and surprise you, take you in his arms and show you how de-stressed he has been for the two weeks he has been away. He made a promise. And Kim Namjoon always keeps his promises.   

As your husband enters the house, he can’t be notice how cold and silent it is as he slips off his shoes. 

"Is she sleeping?" he inquires to himself, setting down his carry-on bags at the door. 

He walks through the hallway, past his large living room towards your bedroom. Entering the bedroom, he takes you into his sights. You’re laying on your side, hair splayed over the pillow with your naked body on display. 

He has done everything and anything to give him the best chance of fertile sperm. He hasn't jerked off or touched himself for weeks while he was alone. He hasn’t worn tight clothes, refusing multiple stage outfits to the disappointment of his stylists. And above all, he’s eaten clean and healthy even if most things that entered his mouth tasted like rough, dry cardboard.

Seeing you now, with your supple backside on display for his viewing pleasure... It was all worth it.  

His dimples imprint his cheeks as he smiles at the sight of you and he’s quick to undress himself. He lets his mind wander as he strips off his clothes. He pictures you laying in your large, shared bed, running your hands slowly over your pregnant belly as he suckles from your milk filled breasts.

“Fuck,” he groans, knitting his eyebrows tightly at the thought.

When he’s fully naked, he kneels at the edge of the bed. His body is tall above yours as he begins to stroke his already hardened cock. Your husband bends down, pulling the sheets away from you. He plants soft, chaste kisses down your arm, your side, your hip until your stirring from your slip.  

Flipping onto your back, you can barely understand what’s going on. “Joonie?”

“I’m home, sweetheart.”

His voice thick with lust and it makes you blink your eyes rapidly, willing your vision to adjust to the dark room. 

"What're you doi- Oh." you breathe, looking over his naked body.

Your eyes falter to his hard cock, watching his large hand stroke it. His bottom lip is tucked tightly between his teeth and the sight wakes you up quicker than the strongest espresso.

"Daddy came home with a gift." 

You sit up on your elbows, feeling your husband’s eyes rake over your body. Your core begins to heat up, arousal pooling deep within your loins as you check out the love of your life. 

"Gift?" you inquire quietly. 

Namjoon gives a flat lined smile, his chin dimpling as he tilts his head. 

"A nice thick load of cum for your fertile cunt." 

His hands reach down, grazing over your sides to stroke your skin sensually. 

Namjoon kicks the comforter off the bed, wrapping his hands around the back of your knees. He molds your body as he sees fit, folding your body in half. 

"Someone is fertile for me today.” he coos, pushing his arm against your knees to keep them against your breasts. 

He bends down, fingers splaying open your newly waxed pussy lips. "Such a clean, pretty cunt for daddy." 

You let your head loll back, feeling his lewd stare as he takes in your pussy. The rising sun begins to paint the room with hints of oranges and yellows that begin to highlight both of your bodies. 

"Have you touched yourself since I've been gone?" your husband inquires, grazing his fingers over your lower lips that are now slick with arousal.

"No." you whisper before clearing your throat, your morning voice still apparent in the quiet room. 

Namjoon hums in agreement, watching your core begin to weep for him. Your eyes are trained on his rock hard cock, taking in how precum drips down the length towards your charcoal sheets. 

He picks your arousal up on his fingers. "Nice and clear, perfect for fucking a baby into." 

He spreads his fingers, your arousal stringing itself in between them. 

"Good girl." Joon praises, licking his fingers clean with a groan. "So sweet, you're ready to take my baby." 

You whimper out as his wet fingers making loving circles on your swelling clit. He lets your legs go and you groan stretching them back out. 

"I'm not going to be so loving today. You're getting fucked to carry my children, not to be loved on,” your husband informs you.

You nod submissively to him, running your hands over his chest and stomach. 

"Get to the edge of the bed, babe." 

Through trying to have children you've done every position possible in hopes of getting pregnant but this one always ends up being Namjoon's favorite. He loves to tower over you, ramming his cock into you like an animal in heat. 

"You're going to be a good girl and keep my cum stuffed in you all day long, aren't you?" 

You scramble to the edge of the bed without a word. Namjoon huffs out impatiently, giving your ass a swift smack making you yelp out. "Answer me when I'm talking to you, sweetheart." 

You nod meekly, getting into position for your husband. 

"Yes daddy, I'll keep your cum stuffed in me all day long." 

Namjoon strokes his cock as he stands above you, watching as your hands palm at your breasts. 

"Even when we go out to eat later with all the boys, you'll clench those cunt muscles to make sure none of my cum comes out of you. Won't you, Y/N?" 

You nod in an instant, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth and he can only smirk at your excitement.  

"Let me see you play with your nipples for me." 

You spread your legs, your arousal beginning to drip down your perineum as your ass hangs off the bed. Your fingers rubbing circles around your nipples before flicking your areolas. Soft moans emit from you as you pinch and roll them in your fingertips. 

"I can't wait until they're filled with milk for my child. They’re going to be so heavy with my child's milk. You'll be a good mommy, won't you?" 

“Y-Yes,” you whine, gasping when his fingers graze over your sodden core. 

A groan slips past your husband’s pretty lips, pumping his finger slowly in and out of you.

"You haven't touched yourself, you're so tight for daddy." 

 The rising sun illuminates over the both of you as Namjoon pulls his finger out of you. 

"How badly do you want my cum?" he teases, watching you write underneath him impatiently. 

"So badly daddy! I want your cum in me so badly! I want a little baby in my womb after today!" you whimper. 

Joon grips your ankles, pulling them up to either shoulder before aligning the head of his cock to your entrance. 

"I bet you'd like that, I'd bet you'd love to walk around with such a big belly, telling everyone Kim Namjoon fucked a fat load into your cunt and you couldn't help but get pregnant. Let people know that your fertile little pussy’s so horny for me that you had no choice but to carry my child inside you.” 

Your core begins to clench around nothing at his words. 

When he’s content with how much arousal has littered your ass cheeks and thighs, he pushes the head of his cock in and you can’t help the breathy, needy whine you emit.

“Fuck, I missed your pussy." your husband seethes through his teeth.

Namjoon’s hands roam over your calves, groaning as he buries himself to the hilt inside of you. “So beautiful with my cock inside you.” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust around his length. He fucks you hard, growling and groaning until a thin sheen of sweat begins to develop on his skin. His bangs stick to his forehead and your back bows off the bed at the swiftness of his cock.

“Such a tight little pussy, aching for my cum.” 

You moan loudly for your man, hands clutching at the sheets underneath you as he begins to pummel into you. Namjoon’s breathing starts to get shorter and heavier with each thrust. 

“I saved up all my cum for weeks just to blow my load inside your cunt.” 

“Daddy, I want you to cum deep inside me.” 

Each thrust of Namjoon’s is completely intentional as the head of his cock meets the opening of your cervix. A slow, throbbing ache begins to form within you as he meets your womb opening. 

“Such a good little cumslut you are letting me fuck my baby into you.” Namjoon praises, moving his hands from your legs to your bouncing breasts. His fingers pinch and roll your nipples until you’re sobbing his name. 

“These tits are gonna swell so nicely, nipples nice and puffy, ready for our baby to suckle on.” 

You moan loudly, his filthy words goading you towards your orgasm. 

Your fingers reach downward finding your clit and you rub quick circles to the stiff bud with whines and whimpers. The way Joon’s ball slap against your ass make your eyes roll back, you can feel how heavy they are with cum as they make contact with you at every thrust. 

Namjoon moans loudly, a sign that his orgasm is coming on fast. Your calves squeeze around your husband tighter, rubbing faster circles to your swollen bud. 

“You better not fucking cum before me. You have to suck up all my cum with your orgasm.” Namjoon warns you through gritted teeth. 

You whine out, feeling yourself on the precipice. 

“I have to cum, fuck, you feel so good daddy.” 

Namjoon shoves your hand off your clit, a disappointed whine leaving your lips. 

“Be a good little cum bucket and wait. Or, I won’t let you cum at all.” your husband warns.

Namjoon folds you in half again as you both feel his cock beginning to pulse. 

“I’m gonna cum soon, fill you up to the brim. You’re going to look so gorgeous huge and swollen with my child.” 

You whimper out, closing your eyes as he cock thickens and throbs within you.

“Fuck, babe. I’m cumming. Fuck!” Namjoon moans loudly, barely holding himself up. His thrusts become sloppy until he’s stilling inside you all together. 

“Oh God! You’re pussy feels so good!” he cries out, burying the head of his cock against your fertile cervix folds.

It’s a pipe dream but Joon thrusts inside you once more, begging your cervix to open up just a little bit for him. 

It feels like his cum will never cease, he can’t stop the obscene amount and you swear your womb swells slightly with the amount of cum he’s fucked into you.  

Your husband curses once more when he’s finally finished, planting a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“I missed you, baby.” he breathes, drifting his lips to your cheek.

“I missed you too,” you reply truthfully.

“Lift those hips Mrs. Kim Namjoon. Keep my cum in. I told you, not a drop is to be spilled.” 

You abide by his rules as he slips a pillow under you, he eases his softening cock out slowly hoping to not take any cum with it. 

What small globs of cum come out with his cock, he gathers before shoving his fingers into you. When he curls his fingers, you can only moan his name. 

“Oh, that’s right. You didn’t get to cum. I’m sorry baby.” 

He crouches down, spreading your lips and taking in the sight of your creamy pussy. 

“Clench.” he orders you and you do as told. 

He groan happily, watching as your pussy closes quickly around his semen. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking sexy.” 

He leans forward, falling onto one knee as his tongue begins to give kitten licks to your still swollen clit. 

“Oh Nam-joon!” you moan out, grasping at his blonde mane. 

He spits on your pussy before biting his lip. 

“Suck up my cum, baby.” he whispers, suckling on your clit harshly. 

You squeal at the feeling, body beginning to thrash around on the bed. Namjoon hums in amusement as his fingers begin to circle your asshole. 

Your eyes shut at the incessant pleasure, his tongue continues to lap at your throbbing bud. He changes form every so often from flat licks, to quick ones and even suckles that make your cunt twitch rapidly. 

You’re a blubbering mess before him, clutching around his semen and sucking it into you further as you begin to feel your orgasm oncoming. 

Namjoon’s index finger making a come hither motion around your asshole and it just about breaks your whole reality. He can feel some of his cum leaking onto his chin, and unceremoniously, he gathers it right back up only to stuff it back deep inside of you. 

“I’m so close! I’m going to cum!” you cry out. 

He moans in agreement, the vibration of his tongue making you grip his hair harder. He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you slowly, taking care to not froth up the cum he so diligently put inside you. 

“Daddy!” you sob.

Joon gives one last harsh suckle and it sends you over the edge. 

Your ears ring and an explosion of stars clouds your vision. in your ears as you clutch onto his head with your hands and your thighs. Namjoon relents before easing out of your cunt at the speed of a snail. He stands up as you come down from your high. 

“Stay like this for fifteen minutes so the sperm has enough time to swim up your cervix. I’ll get your clothes ready.” he instructs, opening your lips one more time to see a nearly clean vaginal opening. 

“I hope it worked.” he mutters to himself, bending down and kissing you softly. 

You sit at the restaurant table uncomfortably as you squeeze your legs closed. Everyone is off in their own little conversations and all you can do is push some rice around on your plate. You've been concentrating so hard on keep Namjoon's cum inside you that you can't even have fun with your friends. 

"What's with the face?" Yoongi asks leaning over the table, his pieced black cap inching upwards as he stares at you. 

"What face?" you inquire, crossing your legs. 

"You look like you’re concentrating really hard." he says with a laugh, picking up his glass of whisky. 

Namjoon catches wind of your conversation, giving his full attention to you and leaving their manager Sejin to his own thoughts.

"She's had a pretty stressful day." Namjoon breathes, rubbing your back. 

He leans into you, his lips a centimetre away from the shell of your ear. "Go into the big bathroom and leave the door open. I want to check out how good of a girl you've been all night long." 

You look up at him before smiling and nodding. Yoongi looks over the both of you with a knowing smile.  

"I'll mind my business." the rapper murmurs. 

Walking past all the other men, your eyebrows furrow tightly. You’re trying so hard to concentrate on keeping your vaginal muscles squeezed tightly that you don’t even realize how ridiculous you probably look.

"She okay?" Seokjin asks your husband as he stands up gracefully. 

His hands push up his long sleeve knit sweater and he works hard to not let the smile that threatens to plaster itself onto his face show. 

"Let me go check." Namjoon breathes, following you.

You enter the bathroom nervously hoping nothing has come out, you sit on the small white leather stool by the mirror as you click your teeth together nervously. 

You hope no cum has left you. One, because it might lessen your chance for conception and two, it'll get you in big trouble with daddy. You stare in the mirror, squeezing your legs and eyes shut before the sound of the door opening calls for your attention. 

You open your eyes to your husband and you squirm nervously as his big eyes drink you in.  

"You've been trying so hard all night to keep my cum stuffed up inside you, haven't you baby?" he inquires sweetly, locking the door behind him. 

You give him a submissive nod and it makes him chuckle. 

"Spread 'em." 

You do as told, spreading your legs for your man as he sits cross-legged on the floor in front of you. He pushes your dress up to be greeted by no underwear.

"Fuck, you're such a little cum slut. No underwear?" 

He takes in a sharp breath before prodding your lips open. He hums satisfactorily. 

"As expected, you want to be such a good mommy already. Look at you keeping yourself all stuffed up." 

You smile down at him proudly, making his dimples indent his cheeks as he smiles up at you. 

"When we get home I'll give you another gift. Hmm?" he coos, standing back up. 

"I would love that." 

He helps you up, wrapping his arms around you lovingly. "I love you so much, you know how much I love you, right?" 

You nod into his sweet smelling chest. "I love you too." 

Namjoon's hand dances over your still cum swollen womb. "Our baby will come and we'll give them the best parenting we can offer." 

You hug him tightly. You were so grateful for your words you had forgotten all about clenching. 

"Oh!" you gasp, surprised at the wetness you feel gliding down your legs. 

Namjoon pulls back at the sound, lifting your dress with furrowing eyebrows. 

"Baby." he admonishes, narrowing his eyes at you. 

He crouches once more, letting his tongue run a flat lick up to your cunt. 

"See what you did?" he seethes, shoving two fingers into your creamy cunt and pulling out his cum. 

You whimper loudly, frowning as he holds his sticky fingers in front of you. 

"Suck my cum up. You're being so wasteful." 

He pries open your lips, shoving in his cum coated fingers and you moan at the musky taste. 

"Let's go home." he mutters, groaning when your tongue swirls over the tips of his fingers.

As soon as the cab stops in front of your apartment complex, Namjoon shoves open the door. He’s already pulling your arm when you give a short 'thank you' to the driver. He pulls you along with him like a raving mad man as you walk towards the building's front door. 

"As soon as you get upstairs, you get undressed, leave those fuck-me-heels on and bend over the bed. Do you understand me?" he inquires loudly, letting his voice get swept up by the wind.

"Yes, daddy." you reply, watching him fish into his pocket for the key card to the building. 

"Such a little cum slut. You were doing so well with my cum inside you and then you go and make a mess of it everywhere." 

You bite your lip in anticipation as he pulls you into the building's lobby. 

"You think I kept my cum in my balls, letting them get nice and heavy, for you just to let it leak out of you?" he hisses fiercely in your ear, slamming the elevator button repeatedly. 

"No, daddy." you murmur as the elevator door opens. 

Namjoon pulls you into the elevator, situating your body in front of his as he pressed the seventh floor button. with his back towards the camera, his fingers begin to creep up your dress. You whimper in anticipation, feeling his chest beginning to temble up and down with heavy breaths. 

"I'll plug you up with more of my cum -- make sure you get a baby inside you, then. How does that sound, my little cum slut?" 

You press your head in his neck, moaning softly in response. His fingers caress over your folds delicately, stroking them as if you’re his pet. 

"I'm getting you pregnant tonight. There's no other option. I've been waiting too long to see you with a distended belly and milk filled tits." 

Namjoon rolls his eyes as the elevator takes its sweet time getting to your floor. When the elevator door slides open, he slides two fingers deeply into your cunt. His fingers stroke your g-spot lovingly and you bite back the loudest moan.  

"Get going." he seethes, picking you up with one arm and walking towards your door. 

You preen sweetly when his thumb begins to caress your clit. 

"Put in the code." Namjoon orders you, stopping in front of your door. 

Your vision becomes blurry with pleasure and your hand shakes as you slowly punch in the code. 

"What's the matter, baby? Can't pay attention when daddy fingers your fertile pussy?" 

After a moment or two of wrong numbers, you finally shove the door open roughly. Namjoon chuckles darkly, running his free hand over the globes of your ass.  

"Do as I said." he instructs, setting you down and pulling his fingers out of you. 

As you scurry off to the bedroom, he kicks off his shoes. He enters his fingers into his mouth, lapping up your essence. 

"Such a fertile cunt. My God." he hisses whispers to himself, unbuttoning his dress pants. 

A freeing sigh leaves his lips as his erection slaps against his stomach. He decided not to wear briefs today, still keeping in mind that tight clothes are not ideal for sperm count. 

Namjoon takes short strides to the bedroom, discarding his clothes here and there. His shirt lands on the L shaped couch while his socks have ended up god knows where and finally he leaves his pants in a puddle right before the bedroom door.

He enters the bedroom taking in a sharp breath at the sight of you leaning over the bed with your ass high up in the air for him. 

"Such a sexy girl all needy for daddy's big cock, hmm?" 

Namjoon's hand strokes at his hardening cock, giving small pumps until he’s situated behind you. His eyes take in the sight of you, the way your back is bent over in submission for him and the way your nipples brush against the comforter. He groans happily, his lips forming the familiar thin line smile that dimples his chin. 

"My little cock whore." 

You whimper out for him and in the lighting of the room, Namjoon can see how horny you are, the way your arousal is streaming down your legs. His eyes practically roll back at the sight. 

"Fuck." he curses loudly, reaching out and squeezing the soft flesh of your backside. 

"I can't wait till you're nice and pregnant and we get to do this position. I'll be able to see that big belly through your legs, your milk leaking all over our bed sheets as I fuck your pregnant pussy." 

His own words make his cock twitch with need. 

"I can't wait." you reply, craning your neck to look back at him. 

"I'll reach around you and rub that big belly while I fuck you, how does that sound?" Namjoon asks, smacking your ass roughly enough that your arms almost give out. 

"I can't wait till you rub my belly while you fuck me." you whine. 

"I bet, I'll suckle on your pretty tits while you ride my cock. Taking in all of the milk meant for our baby." 

“Fuck,” you curse, rocking forward when he smacks your ass once more.

His hand runs comforting strokes over your smarting skin, dragging the bulbous tip of his cock through your folds. 

"You’ll beg me to fuck this pregnant pussy, won't you sweetheart? Beg me to get you off while you carry my child." 

He enters you in one swift motion, his cock bottoming out into your fertile cunt making your moans ricochet off the walls. 

"Yes daddy! I'll beg you to fuck my pregnant pussy!" 

Namjoon groans at your words, beginning to defile your aching cunt. 

"That's why you're going to be a good little cum slut and take daddy's big cock tonight, aren't you? You're going to let me ravage your pussy with my cum till you're good and pregnant." 

You ball up the sheets in your fists as every thrust sends you lurching up the bed. 

His harsh fucking was your punishment for letting his cum seep out but you were ready to take it. 

Anything to get you big with his baby. 

Namjoon’s eyes drift over your back as his hand wraps around the back of your neck. 

"You love my cock, don't you? My pretty little cum bucket!" 

Your eyes roll back at the feeling of his balls slapping against your clit with every harsh thrust. 

"Yes! I love your big cock!" you sob out.

Namjoon's head lolls back as the sounds of your wet cunt resound throughout the room. 

"Fuck you're so wet for daddy! You're such a good girl!" he praises through gritted teeth.

He folds himself over you, his chest hitting your back as he presses you harder into the mattress to angle himself deeper inside you. 

"Gotta get nice and deep to put my kid inside you." he hisses, nipping at your ear lobe. 

His fingers snake their way around you to the apex of your thighs. 

"I'm so close to putting another load in you. I want us to cum together." Namjoon groans, lifting himself slightly to work quick circles on your clit. You can barely process a single thing as the head of his cock caresses the spongy bundle of nerves within you at this angle. 

"Oh my God!" you sob. 

Your head feels foggy with lust and you can’t control a single syllable that rolls off the tip of your tongue when his cock begins to throb quickly within you.  

"Namjoon!" you whimper, feeling your mouth go dry. 

"That's right, baby girl. That's who's giving you a baby tonight." 

You can’t control the pleasurable tears that begin to stream down your cheeks. Pulling the hood of your clit back, he hisses at how swollen your nub is. 

"I'm gonna cum, baby. Fuck. Cum with me." Namjoon begs, kissing over the thin, sweat sheened skin of your neck.

He pinches your clit gently and it’s all too much in that moment. You orgasm in tandem, Namjoon's body pressing deeply into yours as he gives harsh, short thrusts. 

"Take my seed. Give me a baby." your husband cries. 

You stay in this position for a while both trying to collect your breath as if it’s been forcibly pulled from both of your bodies.

"I hope you have my baby in you now." Joon whispers, pushing your hair over your shoulder. He peppers your back with kisses, pulling out of you slowly. 

Whining at the loss, you pout down at him as he rolls onto the bed. He smiles then, pulling you into his arms. You put your face to his chest, feeling how fast his heart is beating. 

He kisses over the top of your head, begging any and every god to just give you both this one thing.

"I love bringing you home gifts but hopefully they'll be baby socks and baby shoes soon." 

"I hope so too, baby.” you reply, drawing random shapes on his honey toned chest.  

Namjoon enters the house with heavy lidded eyes. His exhaustion is only now hitting him like a truck. 

Finally, he was home from tour. His eyes glance at the rising sun that creeps over the skyline just outside of his home. He smells tea tree oil in the air and he immediately thinks of his son. 

Jiyong’s eczema must have flared up while he was away. He discards his shoes by the door before picking up his suitcase and walking towards the bedroom. 

His feet pad quietly, his hands wipe childishly at his eyes as he opens the door slowly. 

There you were, laying in your large, shared bed sleeping soundly and a smile spreads on his face. His eyes find the bassinet in the corner of the room and he sets down his suitcase quietly.  He smiles widely, eyes opening for a fraction of a second,looking down into the crib.

Jiyong lays on his back, head turned to the side as he sleeps. His small lips are parted with his arms above his head. He chuckles, taking off his shirt and picking up his three month old son, pressing him to his chest. 

“Were you good for mommy while daddy was away?” he whispers, pressing his lips to the baby’s forehead. 

He sits at the edge of the bed, rocking his son slowly. His eyes drift over to his suitcase and your husband can only sigh happily.

“Daddy brought you a present.”

[sunmoon-starfactory]

Incandescent Candles - Functional Candles

Sims with access to the raw materials for candle making, and possessing a bit of creativity skill may create candles that while not permanent will produce light between 3-6 hours depending on the type of candle.

Sims will clarify wax sources into a useable state and use molds to shape both this into usable blocks and then into other candle shapes later. No need to worry about uneven layers with all that dipping.

Sims with a high logic skill, as well as creativity may even be able to make some more unusual candles...

See under the cut/view at the Keep for specifics.

Download - SFS Download/View - The Keep

Extra Credits and Thanks: Midgethetree, NixedSims, Fire_flower, Sunni, Mustluvcatz, sim_man123, Dreamstime

Requires the following Sets/Files

●Easy Inventory Check – To check for traits.

● Functional Fires2.0 – For accessories/ashes.

● Fetch Water – Water Buckets

● Metalsmithing – For Poker/Broom and Dustpan Inventory Tools.

Requires any ONE of the following Sets:

●Apiary – Raw Beeswax

● Butcher Stations – Animal Fat

Creativity Skill Level: 0, 1

● Make Clarified Wax - Single

● Make Clarified Wax – Batch

● Recycle Candle Stubs

● Make Tea Light Candles Natural/White

Creativity Skill Level: 2

● All Previous Actions

● Make Pillar Candles Natural/White/Dyed

● Make Taper Candles Natural/White/Dyed

Creativity & Logic Skills Level: 3, 4

● All Previous Actions

● Make Aromatherapy Candles

Creativity & Logic Skills Level: 5+

● All Previous Actions

● Make Colored Flame Candles

STATION:

The station itself is a simple construction of a stone hearth that can be heated to melt waxes and wax components, and attached wooden tables on each side to work on otherwise. The hearth itself is texture referenced to the BB Niche, while the wood comes in select ACYL and Pooklet colors.  It DOES NOT require any fire/fuel for use, this is an optional aesthetic using the Candle Station Hearth Fire. The station comes with 5 slots; one of each shelf and one in the hearth itself.

CANDLE TACKS

These items are meant to act as placement markers for where a candle can be placed and lit. They all cost $0 and require a New Candle of matching type to be used. They can be placed on any surface, or slotted into existing candle holders/dishes/potter/anything with a slot. This enables sims with autonomy to always place new candles in the same spot as one was before with no need for the player to do more placement. Each comes with an invisible recolor if so desired after placement. Just remember where they are in case you have to click them manually. Each pillar/taper type and color of candle has its own assigned tack.

PRODUCTS:

Clarified Wax Block

A sim must begin the candle making process by clarifying either animal fat or raw beeswax. Mixing the raw beeswax or fat with water it is then boiled and skimmed until only clarified wax is left behind. The clarified hot wax is placed into a mold to cool and solidify, producing a Clarified Wax Block. This process may be done as single blocks or a batch of 6. A 1:1 ratio of ingredients is required; Animal Fat:Water, Raw Beeswax: Water. A batch requires 6 times the ingredients.

Molded Tea Lights – Natural & White

Tea lights are made to be single use and non-replaceable and as such come with their own containers at no cost as well. These smaller candles will burn for 3 hours and produce light in an area. They do not leave anything behind to be recycled and their containers must be disposed of.

These operate at a 2:1 ratio. As in 2 Clarified Wax Blocks equals 1 Tea Light Candle Crate. Each crate holds 12 candles, implying that a sim can produce 6 candles per block of wax.

Molded Pillar Candles – Natural & White

A molded pillar candle may be placed on a candle tack in a holder or on any surface and will burn for 6 hours, producing light in an area. When a candle is done burning, it will leave behind a Candle Stub that can be either collected to be recycled into a new wax batch, or disposed of. A new candle is then required to be in a sim's inventory to be placed and lit once more.

These operate at a 4:1 ratio. As in 4 Clarified Wax Blocks equals 1 Candle Crate. Each crate holds 12 candles, implying that a sim can produce 3 candles per block of wax.

Molded Pillar Candles - Dyed

A sim who has access to Red, Black, Blue, Green, or Purple dye may make colored candles of those shades. They function the same as the natural candles, but require a unique New candle of the same color to be relit.

These operate at a 4:1:1 ratio. As in 4 Clarified Wax Blocks, and 1 Bottle of Dye equals 1 Dyed Candle Crate. Each crate holds 12 candles, implying that a sim can produce 3 candles per block of wax.

Molded Taper Candles – Natural, White, & Red

A molded taper candle may be placed on a candle spike in a holder or on any surface and will burn for 6 hours, producing light in an area. When a candle is done burning, it will leave behind a Candle Stub that can be either collected to be recycled into a new wax batch, or disposed of. A new candle is then required to be in a sim's inventory to be placed and lit once more. If a sim has access to Red Dye, they may make Red Taper Candles.

Molded Pillar Candles - Aromatherapy

A sim who has access to Essential Oils and logic skill in addition to creativity skill, may make simple aromatherapy candles. These are made to be single use and non-replaceable and as such come with their own containers at no cost as well. They function the same as the pillar/taper candles in burning, but only run for 5 hours and during burning will produce motive affecting scents in the room they are placed. Sims may also directly use the 'Smell Scent' option for a possible extra motive gain. They do not leave anything behind to be recycled and their containers must be disposed of.

●Lavender - Causes a sims' comfort and social to rise as they relax, and maybe recall good memories.

●Lemon - Causes a sims' hygiene and hunger to rise, that fresh scent smell does wonders.

●Peppermint - Causes a sims' energy and fun to rise, they feel invigorated.

Molded Pillar Candles - Colored Flame

A sim who has access to various Mineral Powders, and have high creativity and logic skills, may make candles that have unusual flames. These are made to be single use and non-replaceable and as such come with their own containers at no cost as well. They function the same as the pillar/taper candles in burning, but do not leave anything behind to be recycled and their containers must be disposed of.

●Red Flame – Add a vial of mercury to a wax batch.

● Green Flame – Add copper mineral powder to a wax batch.

● Blue Flame – Add tin mineral powder to a wax batch.

● Purple Flame – Add mana stone mineral powder to a wax batch.

TOOLS & TRAITS

With the following Inventory Tools, sims can set and light new candles and collect wax stubs.

● Candle Lighter – Sims will be able to set new candles on tacks, or light placed single use candles. Comes in four flavors: Tinder Stick, Box of Matches, Taper Candle, or Modern Lighter. They all share the same GUID so one must be chosen only.

●Empty Bucket – Sims will choose to collect candle stubs rather than dispose of them.

With the following Traits, sims can set and light new candles autonomously. No Inventory Tools needed.

●Servant

With the following Traits, sims can collect wax stubs autonomously. No Inventory Tools needed.

● Servant, Frugal, Eco-Friendly, Neat

With the following Traits, sims may not clean up any wax left behind (non-autonomous/or autonomously) unless they have an Inventory Tool.

● Royal, Noble, Gentry

BONUS

Crafting Table Hearth Fire A functional fire that operates exactly as the Tinder Box Fire from Functional Fires 2.0, just smaller so that it fits snugly in your crafting station hearths. It is NOT required for a crafting table to function.

Requires the following Sets/Files ● Functional Fires 2.0 – For accessories/ashes. ● Metalsmithing – For Poker/Broom and Dustpan Inventory Tools.

Beeswax Texture Candles Why are these a bonus? Mostly because that honeycomb texture that people associate with 'real beeswax candles' isn't historically accurate. The rolled sheets thing is, but the pattern not so much. These were also a special request from a simmer friend who has been helpful and encouraging to me, and it's a way of saying thank you.Three versions that function like their counterparts: Pillar, Taper, and Tea Light.

Candle Vendor This vendor sells individually made candles for a marked up price. Also sells clarified wax blocks. 15 Slots, texture referenced to the Tier Market Display. 

FURTHER DETAILS

● All Items compressorized.

● NH view enabled.

● Collection file included.

[nabsthevulture]

Bone Cleaning Aftercare "Oh no, my skull stinks!"

One of bone cleanings biggest annoyances is nasty smells being left in skulls and bones. It’s not an unfixable thing, but it can definitely be distressing and irritating. There are a few different approaches you can take to remedy this problem, and we’ll cover a few here.

First, go down a little list to figure out what could be causing the smell you’re dealing with. 

1. Is the skull fully clean?

-If not, then this is why your skull stinks. Any leftover rotting flesh or viscera will be not only a source of smell, but it can attract bugs, bacteria, and even start growing mold. Toss that critter back into maceration and let the rest rot off, unless you’re willing to pick it all off by hand. (No shame! I’ve done that plenty of times) 

2. Does the skull need degreasing?

-A greasy skull can definitely be a stinky skull. Make sure you thoroughly degrease your skull, and the smell should go away.

3. Is the skull waxy?

-That's grave wax, baby! Adipocere doesn’t usually smell, but sometimes it can really pack a nasal punch. You can remove it by scraping it off with a toothpick, an X-Acto blade, whatever you’ve got around. Even better is an old toothbrush; Brush away dry or under running water, it’ll come off relatively easy. Go ahead and use some dish soap as well, that’ll help give the skull a better smell.

4. Where is the smell coming from?

-This is probably the first question you ask yourself; Why does my skull stink? And Where is the stink coming from? Built up smell likes to linger in spots where the bone is dense, or where there’s a lot of small places for tissue to hide. The brain cavity can smell a lot like cat piss, in my personal experience. Brain likes to get really nasty while it rots. That’s one of the toughest smells I’ve had to get out of a skull, it’s just such a lingering scent. Smell coming from the nasal cavity could very well mean that there’s still tissue shoved up in there that needs to be fished out or rotted away. Locating the source will ultimately help you figure out what you’ve gotta do to remedy it.

5. Any weird discoloration?

-While not every bit of discoloration will smell, if you’re having a hard time finding the source of a smell, sniff the discolored spots. They would be stains from tissue or bacteria that occurred during the cleaning process, or could be hidden pockets of grease. 

6. Is the skull fully dry?

-Sometimes it can be hard to tell if a skull is all the way dry. The surface may be, but depending on how dense the skull is, water could take longer to dry out. If its degrease water, peroxide, or maceration water, it can smell. They may be cleaning process, but they can really smell bad. I personally have a degrease bucket that I haven’t messed with in a few weeks, affectionately nicknamed “Fart Bucket” because it smells horrible.

Now that that’s out of the way, let's get to the options you’ve got. There’s a few different things you can do, varying in involvement, chemicals, cleaning agents, and time.

Peroxide

A good starting place would be to give the skull a soak in warm water and peroxide. It can knock loose random dirt, and will begin to oxidize and puff up any remaining tissue. That’ll make it easier to spot and pick off if that’s what you feel inclined to do. You can leave the skull to soak for as little or as long as you want, though of course peroxide will begin to whiten the bone. If that’s not the desired effect, limit the soak to around 15-20 minutes. Give the skull a good thorough rinse afterwards to flush out anything that was knocked loose or that you decided to remove, and let it dry. If there’s persisting smell after that, move on to a different method! Peroxide will help with the little smells, but a bigger smell will need a stronger approach.

Heavy Duty Scrubbin’

Grab a bucket, some hot water, a scrubbing brush (Hard bristled toothbrushes are amazing for this) and your favorite smelling, strong dish soap. Lather up your skull and get to scrubbing! Don’t be shy with the soap, make sure you’re thorough. Scrub inside the nasal cavity (Carefully, if the turbinates are still in there), inside the brain cavity, around the sockets of the teeth, etc.. Rinse the skull off every once in a while and start again. It’s tedious for sure, but the results are what you’re after. 

The lower jaw will be an interesting clean job. The hole that runs through the mandible (Mandibular Foramen) can contain a lot of excess grease, build up, or left over meat. If you have em’, grab a couple of pipe cleaners and run them through that hole. Pour some soap into the hole, and keep flossing the pipe cleaner through.It’ll break the excess loose and clear it out on the way through. Make sure you have a few on hand, they’re likely to get really gross really fast.

Let your skull dry and give it a sniff. Still stinks a little? Try again! There’s no harm in scrubbing; Do it until you reach your desired result, or try something new. Either way, no harm done.

Soaks

If you want a less involved method, you’ll probably want to try soaking skulls in a couple of different mixtures. I excluded peroxide and made it its own category because of the chemicals bone whitening ability. It’s not a prolonged soak kind of thing, but these are! These soaks will also act as degreasing baths, given what you use.

Ammonia Soak

-Get yourself some lemon scented ammonia from the dollar store or wherever you may find it. (It doesn't have to be lemon scented, but citrus is an odor killer). Fill up a bucket with enough hot water to cover most of the skull, and then fill up the rest(about an inch or so over the skull) with the ammonia. Ammonia on its own isn’t a necessarily pleasant smell, but it’ll be diluted by the water and won’t ultimately smell like ammonia once dried. You can let this soak for however long you please, but if you’re in a hurry just wait until the water is cold and pull it out. Let it dry, and check it out. The longer you let it sit, the more likely the smell will dissipate. If you have one, a tank heater will keep the water warm and help the ammonia work it’s way through the bone and pull any residual grease out; Grease very well could be the source of the smell.

Acetone Soak

-You’re gonna do pretty much the same thing with this soak as you do with the ammonia, the biggest difference is that you’re only going to use a few ounces of acetone. It’s a strong chemical that works just fine in small quantities. Make sure the water covers the skull completely and then some, and then pour in around half a bottle of acetone (Standard bottle of nail polish remover) depending on the size of your container. Let it soak until its cold, or keep it in until you feel like taking it out. Acetone has a strong smell to it, and is also an agent used for degreasing. You’ll be looking at a two for one like with ammonia. If the smell persists, give it some more time. 

Dish Soap Soak

-Like the last two; Bucket and hot water, fill up above the skull, and then squeeze in some dish soap. Whatever smell you like, use that. Stir the solution up so it’s nicely mixed, and let it soak until its cold or longer if you wish. Let the skull dry, give it a sniff. The longer it hangs out in the soak, the more likely the smell will go. 

With soaks, you’re going to want to check the solution if you leave it sit for a long period of time. If it begins to smell nasty or get cloudy but you aren’t ready to pull it out yet, go ahead and restart your soak solution. The only thing worse than the smell leftover from bone cleaning processes, is the mixture between that smell and dirty degrease/soaking solutions. It’s like getting punched in both nostrils simultaneously. 

Obvious but mediocre solutions

(These are things my taxidermist friend has told me about clients doing in the past, and some are from personal experience. Some are good, some are just...not.)

-Spray em down with air freshener! It’ll help for a very short while before it wears off and goes back to smelling.

-Stick some dryer sheets in the back of the skull, why not

-Rub em down in coffee grounds (This can stain the bone)

-Stick em in a bag of coffee beans (This could also stain the bone)

-Sprinkle them with cinnamon (I have had this stain bone and it’s also like you’re just asking to get cinnamon in your nose)

-Soak them in rose petal water (Can’t speak to this method)

-Set it out in the sun for a few days, let the heat leech out the smell (This can bleach the bone if you leave it too long.)

Realistically, you can do whatever you need to do to get the job done. Just make sure you aren’t using agents that will damage the bones (or yourself) and you’re good to go! Keep in mind that bones that are already brittle, such as nature cleaned, sun bleached, boiled, or bleached skulls can be damaged by some of these processes. If they are brittle to the touch, flaky, easily scratch-able (As in you can put a scratch/groove in the bone very easily), or seem all around unstable, use your best judgement to decide whether or not you should clean them at all. Sometimes weird smelling skulls just need to be put in a display case or somewhere out of smelling distance and left alone.

These methods are applicable to all bones, not just skulls! But as i said above, use your best judgement to determine if the bone will hold up to any of these processes.

Hopefully this is helpful in some way to anyone looking for some help with stinky bones. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out!

[juliafied]

How about FenHawke and ♖: Having their hair washed by your muse!

Thank you for the prompt! I feel like I dedicate far too much time to setup of a particular scenario I imagine in my head, so this is quite a bit longer than first expected, but I think it’s such a sweet scene.

@dadrunkwriting | Read it on AO3

--

It had been raining all night.

Hawke listened to the tapping on the windowpane of her bedroom as she went through her correspondence, trying to knock out one more letter to the seneschal before her candle burnt out. Cursing him for requiring a response to an ‘urgent matter’ on such short notice, she signed her name most annoyedly, despite the “cordially” that preceded it. Folding the letter into thirds, placing it into an envelope, and sealing the parchment with a portion of wax, she sighed and blew out the long-suffering candle.

After pondering her empty mug for a few moments, Hawke descended the stairs to pour herself one last cup of herbal tea. At first, she thought she imagined it – a few tentative taps on her door. It was probably the wind driving some heavier rain under the awning.

Then, as she boiled some water, she heard it again, a little bit more insistent this time.

Her brows pinched in worry. It was unlikely that an intruder would announce themselves in this way; more probably was that one of her friends was in trouble. Her thoughts immediately turned to Anders and a late-night emergency at the clinic. She abandoned her task and rushed towards the door, snatching a decorative sword off the wall just in case, and unbolted, unlocked, and opened the heavy front door to the Amell estate just a crack.

Under her awning, sopping wet and looking miserable, was Fenris.

He brightened visibly when she opened the door fully, the sight of his quick smile filling her stomach with warmth.

“Hawke. I apologize, is it a bad time. I just meant to…”

It had been a few weeks since he had said those words that had changed everything. If there is a future to be had, I would walk into it gladly, by your side. She got goosebumps at the thought of it. Since then, they had settled into something similar to their previous companionship, but easier, freer – walks home from the Hanged Man could now include the thrill of hands touching, laughs could be followed by kisses… Felissa felt the kind of bliss that she hadn’t even been able to imagine.

She realized that she was staring and hadn’t said anything yet.

“Flames, please, come in, you’re shivering.” She hurriedly propped open the door with her foot and lightly laid a hand on his shoulder as he went inside. He really was shivering, his linen shirt soaked through and cold despite the earlier summer heat.

“Thank you,” he murmured as she shut the door behind him. “A contingency plan?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow, nodding towards the sword that looked comically large in her hands, used to holding smaller stilettos and daggers.

She sheepishly hoisted it back onto its place on the wall. “I don’t get many friendly late-night visitors. Usually it’s someone who’s very, very angry with me.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

As glad as she was to see him, his presence this late at night and braving such unpleasant weather was worrying. “So… is everything alright?” Seeing his sheepish expression, she quickly continued, “Not that I’m unhappy to see you. The contrary, actually.” Her earlier assessment of his decidedly not-dry state also prompted her to add, “Do you want a towel, or something?”

“I… yes, that would be much appreciated.” He followed her upstairs to her bedroom, dripping water on the ugly rug that she hated but had been a ‘family heirloom, Felissa Anais Hawke!’ Good, I hope it gets ruined, she thought, glancing fondly back at him.

He deftly caught the fluffy towel that she tossed from the depths of the linen closet, and gratefully wrapped it around his shoulders. She instructed him to sit in the armchair by the hearth in her room as she dashed downstairs, remembering the boiling water and tea she had ready. She pushed the mug into his hands wordlessly and sat down across from him in the other chair, cupping her chin in her hands.

Fenris sighed and took a sip, looking mildly embarrassed. “I had a nightmare. The worst in awhile – I thought you might be awake. If I have overstepped…” he trailed off, avoiding her gaze.

“Not at all. You know you can come here anytime, love.” There it was, the comfort she had longed to easily give. He smiled warmly at that. She knew it was difficult for him to entrust anyone with his hurt. She was touched that he had come to her. If only she could have been there for him a thousand times before, too.

“I am glad of your kindness, Hawke,” he murmured. She noticed that despite the tea, the fire in the hearth, and the thick towel, he was still trembling.

She had an idea. “Wait here,” she said suddenly, and skipped over to retrieve a few large pails from beside the tub in her room. “I know just the thing to warm you up. Sandal put these runes in my bathtub that heat the water quickly and keep it warm forever. Would you like to try it?”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” he started, but Felissa shushed him with a soft press of her lips to his forehead.

“It’s not an imposition if I’m offering. No pressure, though.”

He smiled and nodded.

Within a few minutes, Fenris had finished the tea, and Felissa had fetched enough water to fill the tub. She activated the runes embedded into the tub the way that Sandal had shown her. She also tossed a sprig of lavender in and some salts for good measure. In no time at all, soft plumes of steam were coming off the top of the water.

“There you go,” she said, taking the mug from his hands. “Do you want me to leave so you can undress, or…?”

He gave the low chuckle that she loved so much. “A bit too late for that, I think.”

Fenris shook off the towel and peeled off the shirt, then his trousers, then, finally, his smalls. She felt it wouldn’t be the best time to stare, so she busied herself with hanging his wet clothes by the fire. She felt a rush of gladness at the sigh of satisfaction she heard as he slipped into the water. It was then that she dared glance over. Water up to his ears, Fenris’ eyes were closed, and the shivering was gone.

“Thank you, Hawke. This is truly… exquisite,” he murmured with another sigh.

“I’m glad you like it,” she said quietly, smiling at his relaxed demeanour.

“Do you bathe like this all the time? I can’t be bothered to heat my own water most of the time.”

“Yes,” she replied, adding cheekily, “Maybe you should join me sometime.”

Another low laugh. “I should like that.”

She picked up the stool in the corner of her room and brought it over to sit by the tub. “Was it the same dream?”

Fenris nodded, eyes still closed. “I think I’ve shaped my dreams so long with Danarius in mind that they do not easily forget, now that he is dead.”

Hawke sighed. Her mother’s living form still appeared in her dreams too, despite the years that had gone by.

They sat like this for awhile, enjoying each others’ company. Fenris smiled and opened his eyes eventually.

“It is truly remarkable. You said Sandal made these runes?”

“Yes. I’m truly spoiled by my household, I know.”

“For good reason, I think.”

Then, she had what she thought was her second good idea of the night.

“Fenris – I have this nice soap, I think it’s from Orlais. Do you – would you like me to wash your hair?”

Suddenly, he looked conflicted. A frown passed across his face, along with a pinch of his brow.

She quickly added, “I just thought it might feel nice for you. I always liked when Bethany or Mother would wash my hair. I’d stop anytime, if you asked,” she said earnestly.

He looked hesitant for a moment longer, then nodded decisively.

She beamed. “If you so much as flinch, I’ll stop, I promise.”

After fetching the soap, she dipped the floral-scented bar in the water and formed a lather in her hands. Once it was thick enough, she very slowly began working it into Fenris’ hair, no longer cold due to the steam rising off the surface of the bath. The lather blended with his white locks, making it difficult to tell where she had cleaned already and where she had not, but she made do by feel.

“Is this okay?” she asked, ever so often. He nodded every time.

Once the lather was thick enough, she gently started massaging his scalp, working from the top of his head, down through the crown and the back, and then returning to the temples. With a soft touch, remembering how Bethany had done it for her, she pressed lightly, tracing circles with her fingers. She was relieved when Fenris relaxed into her touch, even sighing contentedly when she massaged his temples.

Adding a little bit of soap for a final lathering of his silky strands, she retrieved one of the pails she had used to carry water.

“I used to hate this part as a child,” she murmured with a smile. “Mother said I would scream the entire time anyone dunked water on my head. I remember this, but I don’t even know why.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps the water was too cold.”

She made a face. “Probably. No one sold runes like this in the Lothering marketplace.” She filled the bucket with the water in the bath. “Either way, let me know if you don’t like this, and I’ll get you to wash out the soap yourself.”

Fenris nodded, and murmured, “Go ahead.”

Slowly, she poured the water on his head, taking care not to get the soap into his eyes or too much water into his ears. Rinsing out the soap with her hands, she emptied the pail, and refilled it again. “Was that alright?” she asked quietly, and Fenris gave a slow nod.

She repeated the process until his hair was free of soap, taking as much care as the first time. Emptying the pail after the final time, she set it on the floor next to the tub. Fenris smiled amusedly.

“Fortunately, I did not feel the urge to scream incessantly.”

She laughed. “I’m glad. I’m not sure my neighbours would appreciate that.”

He twisted suddenly in the water, a hand emerging to grasp her own. He gently pressed her fingers to his lips. “Thank you,” he said, sincerely.

She simply smiled.

“Did you enjoy your bath?”

“Yes. I had forgotten,” and now he paused, considering his words, “or perhaps I have never known, what it feels like to be taken care of.”

At that, she wished to take him into her arms, but of course, that would get her all wet. She settled on pressing a kiss to his wet, now gardenia-scented, hair.

“Oh, Fenris. I would take care of you ‘til the end of my days.”

[palettes-and-prompts]

hiii! can i get some spooky halloween prompts? anything goes: supernatural, terror, costume party... thanks!

Sure thing! Normally I would have done these last since I do requests in order but since they’re Halloween themed I decided to do them first just in case I’m not done with the prompts in my inbox by the end of the month or something.

Dialogue Prompts

1) "Hey, I got us invited to a costume party but we've got to bring a live animal for some reason." "Were you invited by someone who sacrifices animals?" "You know, they mentioned something about a sacrifice but I just thought they misspoke and meant to say sack of ice." "Yeah, we're not going to that." 2) "Hey, I accidentally joined a cult again, can you come pick me up?" 3) "Were you making out with Person A?" "It was just heat of the moment!" "We thought we were going to die when you chased us around with that fake chainsaw!" "Does Person B know about this?" "DO NOT TELL THEM." "Oh...I'm gonna." 4) "Grab a shovel, idiot, we've got to raise another person from the dead." "Ugh, again? Didn't we just raise someone else?" "Yeah, and now another person is dead so we have to do it again." 5) "Great. I'm alone. I'm alone in the fucking woods dressed like this. I'm gonna get murdered. I am. I'm gonna get murdered because Person A doesn't know how to follow simple fucking directions. It's great. Perfect, just where I wanted to be." "Are you talking to yourself?" "Jesus fucking Christ! Don't sneak up on me like that. God! Should put a fucking bell on you!" "I've been behind you the whole time." 6) "Sun comes up in two hours, we have to go back home." "I don't want to be a creature of the night like you." "Yeah, well, no one asks to be but you are. And it's either hide or burn." 7) "Hey, my shithead relative's in town so we're taking their things and burying them in the woods, wanna come?" "Wont they notice things are gone?" "Yeah, but they think my house is haunted so it's fine." 8) "Person A?" "What? Did you hear another noise?" "There's someone watching us over there." "Get in the car. Quickly, quickly!" 9) "You absolutely cannot wear that costume." "Why? Cause I look fucking sexy as hell in it while you're dressed like some furry?" "First of all, I'm not dressed like some furry. I'm dressed like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. You know that. And Second of all, it's a Halloween themed birthday party for CHILDREN. No, you can't wear your sexy BDSM catsuit. We're going to celebrate a birthday not get hit on by single mothers/fathers." "Maybe you're going to celebrate a birthday. I'm looking to get some phone numbers." "Change." "God you're a buzzkill. Fine!" 10) "Oh my god, there's the killer!" "You know, they're looking kinda sexy in this lighting." "They've murdered six people." "Maybe I should ask if they're up for destroying my-" "Stop talking!" 11) "Oh no, I sure hope no murderers are out there looking for me, Person A, a sexy and single person who likes long walks on the beach and having a good time with fun, adventurous, sexy singles in my area!" "God. Can you just act like a normal person for five fucking minutes, please? Please? I am literally begging you." "What? I just want to let everyone know I'm not afraid of a little danger!" "People are dead, Person A." 12) "You're holding my hand." "I just don't want to get lost in the woods at night." "You keep squeezing it tighter when you hear a scary noise." "Okay, so I'm scared. What? You going to call me a chicken?" "No. I think it's cute when you hold onto me tighter." 13) "You look like you're going to vomit." "I am, I'm incredibly sick. I was gonna go home, but Person A showed up and they hate me so I swallowed a handful of blood capsules so when I throw up it looks like blood." "Why would you do that?" "Because I hate Person A and want to scare them." "But what if they don't care." "Then they look heartless in front of everyone. Basically a win for me." 14) "How'd swallowing blood capsules go?" "Turns out they're super toxic and I had to go to the hospital immediately. But I did find out that Person A doesn't hate me, they're actually in love with me but didn't know how to express that because they're bad at expressing feelings. So we're dating now." "Jesus Christ, I can't believe that's the story you're going to have to tell your future kids." 15) "Don't panic, but I have a knife in my chest." "You what?" "I fell when I was carving a pumpkin and ended up stabbing myself in the chest with a knife. I'm fine though." "You're not fine, you stabbed yourself." "I'm fine, I'm driving myself to the hospital right now." "You're driving?!?!" 16) "What are you going to be for Halloween, Person A?" "Myself." "That's a horrible costume, it'll never win the contest. Go as a dog." "Sound's like Person A already is!" "Fuck you, Person B!" 17) "Person A got hammered and threw up in a child's Halloween bucket." "That's okay, they said trick or treat. Not everyone can be lucky enough to get a treat. It's about time kids started receiving some tricks." "I'll go give them the rest of the candy bowl and apologize. You keep A here." 18) "HEY! DID YOU FUCKING BUY THESE WAX CUBES THAT SMELL LIKE CANDY CORN?!" "Yeah." "Don't you EVER buy these again. Person A just ate seven before I read the packaging." "Why didn't Person A read the package? They're a grown ass person and it fucking says wax cubes on the front of the package." "They're a dumbass, Person B! You know you can't leave inedible things that smell like foods around them. Remember what happened with the scented erasers?" "Yeah, that was a weird hospital visit." 19) "Why would you want to go on a hay ride when you can ride me right now?" "Never been disappointed on a fucking hay ride." 20) "Switch costumes with me. Person A and I accidentally ended up matching and if they notice and point it out to everyone and call us twins I might end up killing someone." "Person B, is that you?" "Oh fuck me..." "Person B!" "I have to go, distract them so I can get away!"

Regular Prompts

1) A and B are invited to a party thrown by someone they work with, Person C, but don't know them that well. They get there early and it's just them and Person C tells them to help themselves to food while they fix something outside. A opens the freezer and panics when they find a severed head. It looks real and A and B decide they need to leave. Just as they're about to leave the power goes out. 2) A's in an unhappy relationship with Person B. Instead of going to a party with their friends like A wants to do B insists they play with the new ouja board they got. A doesn't want to but B complains until A gives in. They accidentally summon a demon and while B leaves them behind, the demon, Person C, insists that B was a piece of shit anyway. A and C form an unlikely friendship and when A finds a way to bring C into their world permanentally the two decide to live together and C helps A get out of their relationship. The two then get together after getting to know each other and A discovers dating demons is way better than humans. 3) A and B are close friends who almost kiss but then it's interrupted when vampires show up and start terrorizing the town. The two begin a hunting spree with a few friends to take down all the vampires and the experience makes their friendship stronger and the two share a first kiss after they take down the last vampire together. 4) A and B are at C's house for a party, someone they've known their whole life. They realize halfway through the party that the locked basement they've never been in is unlocked. They decide to go down to see what's down there but immediately regret it when they turn the light on and find C surrounded by bodies and their hands and mouth covered in blood as they tell both of them they can explain everything. 5) A group of friends sneak into the park during Halloween even though it's closed and discover that the public bathroom has a body and the whole place is covered in blood. They decide to leave and call someone but they don't get a signal and now five people in dark cloaks are chasing them with knives. 6) A and B are known for being unscareable since nothing's ever made them scream out of fear. Their friends try to scare them throughout the whole day but they're unable to. The go to visit A's grandparents in the nursing home after A's parents insist. But when they go there they walk into the wrong room and find two old people doing it and A and B, along with the rest of their friends, scream in horror before closing the door. Unable to look at another old person they visit A's grandparents, but don't make eye contact and none of the friends make fun of them for it. They all just go trick-or-treating and agree to never speak of it again. They all forget about it until the next Halloween when they're sitting around watching TV and A's parents walk in telling A to go visit their grandparents. The group of friends simultaneously scream NO in horror and the story ends with them all shuddering at the memory. 7) A is unscareable so their friends hire someone to fake a news broadcast and pretend to be a murderer loose in their area. A isn't scared but when the fake murderer walks by and A sees them through the windows they all pretend not to believe A because A's a known prankster. A sees them more and more around the house with a knife but it isn't until A turns around and the pretend murderer is right behind them in the house that they scream. Everyone either records it or takes pictures before admitting to A it's just a prank. (Bonus if A already knew about the prank and hired the fake murderer to pretend to be murdered by someone A knows who actually just got out of prison. No one gets hurt but A definitely gets back at the others for trying to scare them.) 8) A group of friends find a giant pumpkin in the woods and when they find it has a door only Person A is brave enough to go inside. The door closes behind them and disappears and when someone comes towards the pumpkin they don't know they explain their friend is stuck inside. The person explains that the pumpkin is actually a carnivorous plant that digests the people who walk in on Halloween and that it can eat twenty people at a time. Before they can get worried or call someone Person A bursts out the side of the pumpkin carrying two kids and telling the others to come help the rest of the people inside. The others are still shaken from being inside but A tells the others they're going to need a chainsaw and a truck. A ends up saving more people and making sure it's empty before the friends help them make pumpkin pies for the entire town. A ends up getting a first place ribbon at a pie contest they didn't enter and the friends are hailed as town heroes. 9) A group of friends go camping and ask Person A and Person B to go find Person C, who's near the road and doesn't know where everyone else is. The two hate each other and end up getting into a heated argument where they end up wandering around and getting lost. Unable to get a signal on their phones or figure out how to use a compass they end up getting more lost and end up seeing someone watching them. The two are terrified and run away. The stranger chases after them and soon more people pop out of nowhere, terrifying them as they run around. When they finally see a light they run towards it and find out they walked all the way across town where the community had set up a haunted house in the woods for people to walk into. The two end up hating each other less but agree they're never going camping again. They end up getting a cab and just decide to get Person A's car and go to a restaurant for food. 10) Person A and B are dating when Person A gets their head stuck in a fake pumpkin and B has to call the fire department. A laughs at their situation and B just stands by, completely embarrassed by their significant other.