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fifty-five shots
[backdated to earlier today in the morning]
[Molotov is used to waking up curled around a man. But, as the sun streams into the bedroom on this morning, she realizes that this man is not nearly wide enough to be her fiance. In fact, this man is kind of grossly skinny (in her opinion).
She opens her eye and immediately shoves him away.]
What is wrong with you!
[Cross shares the same opinion about you, Molotov. You are just a tad too skinny for him. JUST A TAD. Do not take it out of proportion like you did last summer when he was on that loss.
He is totally knocked out until hands on his chest shove him away, and then he feels the edge of the bed under him, and then air. Now he is on the floor and totally confused. Give him a moment...
His head appears above the bed, a frustrated look on his face.]
What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you!?
[No, it’s cool, Cross. Molotov knows that you prefer women so fat that they’re housebound. All the easier to seduce them if they can’t walk away, right?
She glares at him, crossing her arms over her chest.]
Nothing is wrong with me! This is my room, and I do not care about the loss! That is over now, and you should not be in my bed. You should be on the floor. Where you belong.
[Whatever, twig.
He glares back at her and throws a pillow at her head. Just because the loss is over does not mean he cannot be a mean bastard.]
It’s not like it has been my goal to be in your bed anyway, Molotov. Don’t flatter yourself.
[Molotov dodges the pillow and throws one of her own.]
Lie all you want, Cross. I doubt it will change how happy I am sure you have been to have slept with me.
Can’t you see my joy? [He feigns excitement.] Absolutely wonderful experience I had.
Now, these pajamas... Yes, I think it is time I go to my room and change. Monkeys are not flattering.
[Molotov just rolls her eye in disgust, then looks down at herself. She won’t lie and say she looks terrible in this... princess nightgown (?), but that’s only because she looks amazing all the time. In her own mind.]
Have fun walking through the castle like that.
[Cross flips his hair over his shoulder. He gives no fucks. None.]
Oh, I will. I am sure Brock finds that “sexy” for someone as immature as you.
You would be shocked at how very little exists that is capable of dampening Samson’s libido. But your point, if it can be called that, is moot. This is my room. My clothes are all here. Besides, even you cannot deny how attractive I am, regardless of what I wear. That shade of blue is immensely unflattering on you, by the way.
[Don’t mind him as he just rolls his eye, heading to the door.]
Whatever you say, Molotov. And yes, I know that. It is not like I purposely chose this attire.
[Molotov snorts again, letting her face melt into an expression of snarky thoughtfulness.]
I seem to recall you being rather adamant about the monkeys, actually.
We were not exactly in our right frame of mind. Honestly, young me sucks at picking normal pajamas.
I have never seen your pajamas, but I strongly suspect that middle-aged you shares that trait with young you.
[He gives her a look of “Oh, you~”]
If you only knew what I slept in at night. [Which is nothing.]
[Another thing they share, but the implication doesn’t stop Molotov from making several dry-heaving noises.]
I can quite honestly say that I have never wanted to know anything less than that, my dear Cross.
Goodbye, my dear Molotov~ [And out the door he goes.]
[Sigh, she didn’t get the chance to threaten him with death if he ever speaks of this again. Oh well. That’s what anonymous, creepy notes slid under doors are for.]
[ ooc; Feel free to reply via journal or in person in Cross’s case! His pajamas are amazing yes. ]
[Molotov is used to waking up curled around a man. But, as the sun streams into the bedroom on this morning, she realizes that this man is not nearly wide enough to be her fiance. In fact, this man is kind of grossly skinny (in her opinion).
She opens her eye and immediately shoves him away.]
What is wrong with you!
[Cross shares the same opinion about you, Molotov. You are just a tad too skinny for him. JUST A TAD. Do not take it out of proportion like you did last summer when he was on that loss.
He is totally knocked out until hands on his chest shove him away, and then he feels the edge of the bed under him, and then air. Now he is on the floor and totally confused. Give him a moment...
His head appears above the bed, a frustrated look on his face.]
What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you!?
[No, it’s cool, Cross. Molotov knows that you prefer women so fat that they’re housebound. All the easier to seduce them if they can’t walk away, right?
She glares at him, crossing her arms over her chest.]
Nothing is wrong with me! This is my room, and I do not care about the loss! That is over now, and you should not be in my bed. You should be on the floor. Where you belong.
[Whatever, twig.
He glares back at her and throws a pillow at her head. Just because the loss is over does not mean he cannot be a mean bastard.]
It’s not like it has been my goal to be in your bed anyway, Molotov. Don’t flatter yourself.
[Molotov dodges the pillow and throws one of her own.]
Lie all you want, Cross. I doubt it will change how happy I am sure you have been to have slept with me.
Can’t you see my joy? [He feigns excitement.] Absolutely wonderful experience I had.
Now, these pajamas... Yes, I think it is time I go to my room and change. Monkeys are not flattering.
[Molotov just rolls her eye in disgust, then looks down at herself. She won’t lie and say she looks terrible in this... princess nightgown (?), but that’s only because she looks amazing all the time. In her own mind.]
Have fun walking through the castle like that.
[Cross flips his hair over his shoulder. He gives no fucks. None.]
Oh, I will. I am sure Brock finds that “sexy” for someone as immature as you.
You would be shocked at how very little exists that is capable of dampening Samson’s libido. But your point, if it can be called that, is moot. This is my room. My clothes are all here. Besides, even you cannot deny how attractive I am, regardless of what I wear. That shade of blue is immensely unflattering on you, by the way.
[Don’t mind him as he just rolls his eye, heading to the door.]
Whatever you say, Molotov. And yes, I know that. It is not like I purposely chose this attire.
[Molotov snorts again, letting her face melt into an expression of snarky thoughtfulness.]
I seem to recall you being rather adamant about the monkeys, actually.
We were not exactly in our right frame of mind. Honestly, young me sucks at picking normal pajamas.
I have never seen your pajamas, but I strongly suspect that middle-aged you shares that trait with young you.
[He gives her a look of “Oh, you~”]
If you only knew what I slept in at night. [Which is nothing.]
[Another thing they share, but the implication doesn’t stop Molotov from making several dry-heaving noises.]
I can quite honestly say that I have never wanted to know anything less than that, my dear Cross.
Goodbye, my dear Molotov~ [And out the door he goes.]
[Sigh, she didn’t get the chance to threaten him with death if he ever speaks of this again. Oh well. That’s what anonymous, creepy notes slid under doors are for.]
[ ooc; Feel free to reply via journal or in person in Cross’s case! His pajamas are amazing yes. ]
