#now we go back to our usual program!

[tennaromantic]

While I still have your attention ...

My model! It's still a bit unfinished, but view it in its beta state!

(do not tag as deltarune/source!)

[mewhenimanangel]

need that, hamzahthefantastic

prev pt 3*

—synopsis. hamzah invites you over to be in their new video

—warnings!: freaky uti, dry humping, undressing

notes 🫧: the fight was so tuff, i’m a die hard noob

—🐞

you parked your car outside hamzah’s house, fixing your lip gloss and zipping up your sweater before going to knock on his door.

him and martin invited you to be in one of their sims videos since mandy was on vacation and they knew you played as well.

it’s been around two weeks since you and hamzah made out in his car. since then, you’d been texting a lot more and you hung out twice with mandy and martin. though, you haven’t done anything to continue what he started.

hamzah answered the door with a grin, “come on in boi, we haven’t started playing yet. martin’s still connecting the camera and the mic” he closed the door behind you.

you felt something brush against your leg, looking down to see his cat rubbing itself on your leg. “awwww he’s so cute” you reached down to see if he’d let you pick him up.

when he did you held him in your arms and rubbed behind its ear. “which one is this?” you asked hamzah. “this is blue. red’s probably upstairs somewhere clawing at something.” he said, reaching over your arm to pet blue.

“i had to put a child lock on my fridge cause they figured out how to open it bruh” he shook his head.

you giggled looking at him with a smile.

“oh hey y/n, didn’t know you were here already. i just finished setting up the camera” martin said. “heyy” you put blue down on the floor, following martin.

“you ready to get your sims on?” he asked. “try freaking born ready” you giggled, hamzah following behind you.

you sat off to the side on the couch in hamzah’s office while they started the video. “hello everynyan-” hamzah interrupted him “dude what” “it’s like a meme like have you ever seen it? it’s like oh my gahhh” martin awkwardly repeated the video, hamzah stifling a laugh. “anyways we’re back and better than frigging ever” martin started off.

“now it has been a while-“ “definitely been a while-“ “right, a while since our regularly scheduled programming” hamzah said. “i hope you guys enjoyed the fight, we worked super hard literally for like six months”

“and you may realize we’re not in our usual spot, wanna tell them why that is?” martin said. “yes we are, we’re in my house this time because mandy’s on vacation and martin, feeling like a sad little lonely boy wanted to come over and play with me”

“yes mandy is gone. she is in spain right now because she doesn’t love me anymore. you know what they say, ‘go to spain when your lover’s a pain’. that’s why she hasn’t proposed to me yet in the big year of twenty twenty-five” martin went on. “literally nobody says that”

“but speaking of mandy, today we’re playing the sims. something we haven’t done in a long time and we need a little bit of a refresher” “yes, the sims is a girl game and since we don’t have mandy, we brought back up” hamzah added.

“yes, we obviously cannot play this game ourselves so we brought in another expert” they looked at each other before counting down from 3 and snapping their fingers. you knew they were gonna put some silly transition effect over this.

hamzah got up to get another chair for you “you good?” he asked you, making sure you were comfortable. and you nod your head before sitting between them. “hellurr. yes i am mandy’s back up today. because obviously, they don’t know what they’re doing so im taking over.”

“dude what is it with girls and the sims. only girls know how to play the sims” martin and hamzah riffed while you logged into your sims account.

“now this is your first time on here y/n, how do you feel in the presence of such greatness” martin asked. “well im honored to be on but i don’t know about ‘greatness’” you joked.

after two hours of creating sims and making them kill, cheat, fornicate, and find love, they ended the video. “banger video alert” hamzah turned the computer off. “uhh yeah that was really good if i do say so myself.” you pat yourself on the back.

the three of you lounged around hamzah’s living room for another hour after that. “are you guys hungry?” hamzah asked “i was gonna order some food” “actually i still have some packing to do for my flight tomorrow” martin sighed while playing with red. “oh shit right, i forgot” hamzah shrugged.

“i’m gonna head out now bro i’ll see you next week” he dapped hamzah up before doing the same to you. hamzah followed him out before closing the door behind him.

“i could eat” you shrugged and hamzah smiled. he pulled his phone out and ordered chick-fil-a, adding in your order.

you sat criss crossed on his couch as blue jumped into your lap, snuggling up against you and purring. “his ass definitely likes you” hamzah chuckled.

“do you want one?” he asked, coming back from his bedroom with a little jar of edibles. “sure” you reached to grab one with your nails.

hamzah grabbed one too and you tapped them together in a ‘cheers’ motion before eating them.

you soured your face and gagged “okay these are nasty oh my god” you laughed. “yeah they taste like butt but they do the job. the food should be here in like twenty minutes” he said, joining you on the couch.

you helped him review the footage from the video before he sent it to their editor. by now the edible was beginning to kick in and you were growing hungrier by the minute. his door bell rung and he got up to answer the door.

he came back holding the bags of food up with a smile on his face and plopped down onto the couch, this time much closer to you, legs and arms touching.

“fuck i’m starving. is that shit kicking in for you yet?” he asked, handing you your sandwich and fries. “oh it is” you grinned.

“have you ever had the mac and cheese?” he asked you. “no i usually go for the fries” “okay here you gotta try it.” he took some on his fork and put it in front of your mouth, paying close attention to the way your lips wrapped around the fork. “right?” he nod his head at your reaction.

“wait here, you’ve got some cheese on your mouth” he said, brushing your lip off with a napkin. “oh..oops” you giggled through your slowed words.

the two of you tore through your food, turning on family guy in the background. “that was so fucking good” you looked at him, eyes low and red.

“right…..i’m stuffed.” you slowly sipped on your milkshake. “do you ever think about what they do with the cut out pieces of fries?” you asked, just chatting. “i always wonder but they probably just throw them away.” he added.

you leaned back into the couch, cross legged, knee resting atop of hamzah’s as he put his arm on the back of the chair behind you.

he slowly rubbed your bare shoulder that peeked from under your hoodie that was falling off. you leaned your head back, resting it on his arm before looking at him.

“so, are we just never gonna talk about it again?” you addressed the elephant in the room. “hm?” he looked at you. “the kiss, are we just gonna act like it didn’t happen?”

“no of course not, i just wasn’t sure if i had made you uncomfortable so i didn’t wanna push anything again” he shrugged. “hamzah i kissed you back for a reason. i wanted it” you reassured. “and i still do” you said, looking away for a second.

he grabbed your chin, turning your face back to his before kissing you. you leaned into the kiss, rubbing your nails at the back of his neck.

the room filled with your mutual satisfied sounds, hamzah pushing his hand up under your sweater. he laid you down against the couch arm, keeping himself steady atop of you.

he slowly pulled the zip down, taking off your sweater off, you willed yourself to follow his lead, wrapping your arms around him. he broke the kiss, “you good, right?” he asked. “yeah, keep going. i want you, hamzah” you reassured. he kissed you again before lining kisses down your jawline and throat. he sucked down on your skin “wait don’t leave any hickeys” you said through a moan.

“too late” he let out a breathy laugh, making you giggle. hamzah let out a soft noise at the feeling of your nails rubbing through his hair. he slowly eased his up under your tank top, reaching up he grabbed a handful of bra. “here, hang on” you sat up, taking off your shirt and throwing it by your sweater. you fiddled with your bra clasp and eased the straps off your shoulders, letting your boobs rest.

hamzah stared at them, mouth agape. “that was a push up bra by the way, so don’t be too disappointed” you joked. “how would i be disappointed. you’re fucking hot” he pulled you atop of him and kissed you, hands firm on your ass.

he kissed down the middle of your chest before his mouth latched on. you sighed in satisfaction when he rolled his tongue.

you subconsciously grinded your hips on his, feeling him grow. “fuck” you winced. you stayed in that position for a while, dry humping each other as he kissed and sucked all over your upper body. you felt yourself getting needier by the minute. “hamzah-“ you started before being interrupted by a knocking on the door. “dude let me in, i forgot my wallet” it was martin.

you looked at hamzah before getting up. he kissed you “go to my bedroom, i’ll be there in a second” he told you and you smirked before leaving the room.

hamzah let him in “ugh thank you, i was worried you fell asleep” martin said, spotting his wallet on the side table.

hamzah looked over his shoulder realizing your shirt and bra were still thrown around on the couch. “imagine i went all the way to spain and forgot this just sitting here” martin chuckled before turning around, hamzah missing the chance to let him not to.

“oou you got chick-fil-a? anything left?” he looked inside a bag before he came face to face with your bra. he turned around, jaw dropped “dude!” he gasped and hamzah grinned.

lvryn

Liked by hamzahthefantasfic, clairedrakee and others

lvryn alright who pressed fast forward on my weekend 😂

mandys_iphone cute

user HELLO? is this a soft launch?????

ynlover omg this and how touchy they were in the sims video last month, they’re definitely dating ?)!(!;$:

— 🐞 the end

[ngdrb]

Elon Musk is a piece of shit just like EVERY other RepubliKKKan!!!!!

BREAKING: MAGA billionaire Elon Musk picks a fight with a respected commander of the International Space Station and calls him "retarded" after he exposed Musk for a bold-faced lie.

This is who Trump has entrusted with running our government...

It all started when Andreas Mogensen, the Danish astronaut in question, reacted to a clip on X of Musk telling Fox News propagandist Sean Hannity that he plans to "rescue" two astronauts who were "left up there" in space "for political reasons."

Mogensen shared the clip and wrote: "What a lie. And from someone who complains about lack of honesty from the mainstream media."

Musk quickly reacted to the tweet, lashing out with the sort of childish insults that we have come to expect from the allegedly ketamine-addicted oligarch—

"You are fully retarded," wrote Musk. "SpaceX could have brought them back several months ago. I OFFERED THIS DIRECTLY to the Biden administration and they refused. Return WAS pushed back for political reasons. Idiot."

As usual Musk provided no evidence for his inflammatory claims. Mogensen then responded with the grace and articulation that Musk seems pathologically incapable of—

"Elon, I have long admired you and what you have accomplished, especially at SpaceX and Tesla," wrote the astronaut. "You know as well as I do, that Butch and Suni are returning with Crew-9, as has been the plan since last September. Even now, you are not sending up a rescue ship to bring them home. They are returning on the Dragon capsule that has been on ISS since last September."

Tellingly, Musk didn't respond to the potent rebuttal. Instead, he responded to another post from Dr. Phil Metzger — Director of the Stephen W. Hawking Center for Microgravity Research & Education — remarking on the hostile exchange.

In it, Musk smeared Mogensen as a "so-called 'Commander'" who "doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground."

"Dude has no clue what’s really going on. He’s a passenger," Musk added.

That's all Elon has: insults and rage.

It's also worth noting that shortly after the feud broke out, the billionaire tweeted out a call for the "deorbiting" of the International Space Station because "it has served its purpose" and "there is very little incremental utility."

It's difficult to interpret the outburst as anything other than attempt at exacting revenge on Mogensen for publicly embarrassing him.

Elon is a petty, vindictive man with zero impulse control. The fact that he is now running roughshod over our government, gutting crucial programs, and lining his pockets with our tax dollars is an utter disgrace.

[fatuismooches]

cor meum, manus tuas.

synopsis: After your illness strikes again, Dottore decides to gift you a failed experi-, a new companion in order to soothe your injured heart.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: A cute fluff fic where Dottie gives you Foxttore and the pufflings as a pet (the blue monster creature from Nahida's fairy tale.) He loves you a lot. Really just pure fluff and Foxttore getting on Dottore's nerves. Enjoy!

For as long as Il Dottore had known you, you had always been one to suggest things that he had no interest in. It was a habit of yours, and sometimes he’s not sure if you’re being genuine about it or if you simply want to rile him up, as you usually do.

One such example was back in the Akademiya when the two of you finally successfully reversed-engineered one of those machines after a painstaking amount of work. It was arduous and tiring, but immensely rewarding. Oh, he had so many ideas and things to do now, but you- you had other plans.

“So, now that we’ve got it under our control, I think we should program it to have some new tricks.” Zandik had paused at your words, as for once that was a good idea. He wondered what the limit of such a killing machine could possibly be.

“Go on.”

“Alright, imagine this, it’s about to swoop in and land the finishing blow, but instead, a whole bunch of confetti pops out and-”

“No.”

“You can’t even pick up a sword properly. You know nothing about fighting like I do! Just hear me out, it’ll be a great distraction because they’d never be expecting that, and boom, that’s where the real attack comes in.”

“No.” (Later on, he found out that you’d programmed the thing to have a single flower shoot out, just for him. He swiftly removed it after you were done laughing.) 

Or when you had begged and pleaded with him to let you teach him how to cook, just once. It was no secret you were always the one on cooking duty during the Akademiya, for he had a severe lack of skill for it. Furthermore, Zandik had no interest in it, not having the time or patience for something just meant as sustenance. You, however, were insistent on at least teaching him the basics, for it was no way for a student to live (according to you.)

The slicing and dicing went well enough, but the moment you turned your back for a few moments, he had somehow set the smoke detector off, and the Akademiya’s dorm director gave you two a good scolding. You learned your lesson after this particular incident, but from your giggles, he knew you didn’t feel an ounce of regret.

Your antics were truly something he wouldn’t get used to. And now, over four hundred years later, your teasing nature had remained the same, only that it became more verbal as you didn’t have the strength to pull off your elaborate plans anymore.

Which is why lately you had been clinging to him with pleading eyes and a jutted lip, vehemently asking for a pet despite his numerous rejections, going so far as to try and recruit other segments (who, unfortunately for you, did not join your cause.)

“Please honey, my darling, my beloved, my-”

“My answer is not going to change, [Name]. I will not tolerate anything running around and causing a mess.”

“Aww, but come on. I know you love cats. I know you secretly pet them when no one’s looking. I know that-”

“That’s enough from you. Now, will you sit or should I strap you down instead?”

That line of conversation persisted for a while until you mostly gave up, only throwing the idea in from time to time with a hmph. But now, he was uncharacteristically wondering if there could be a solution to this problem. 

Lately, you had been confined to your bed and room, too physically weak to move around much. He and the segments had done their best, as they always do, to take care of you, but one did not need to be a genius to know that you were feeling down. Not only because of the aches your body gave you, but also because you were lonely for most of the day, seeing as his other selves were usually too busy to spend an adequate amount of time with you. Once again, despite his lack of care for the emotions and feelings of others, he could see straight through your feigned expressions of nonchalance.

Dottore hated it when you pretended around him.

He could raise the topic but it would probably make matters worse. Instead, it was much more logical to work toward a solution for the issue - the solution being a companion to keep a smile on your face, and your mind at ease. Now, an actual pet probably would be a hassle to maintain in the lab, knowing the kind of activities that were… well, unsafe to say the least, so he put that possible solution to the side for now.

Initially, he sought to create something mechanical, having seen the mechanical animals from Fontaine. Of course, his creation would be far superior, and it would be quite helpful with your condition and all. But upon further thinking, knowing your tastes… you’d probably prefer something softer, considering how much you liked to cuddle him and your plushies. 

It was a conundrum the scholar found himself in, making his darling lover happy was not something that could be so easily scientifically concocted like the rest of the conclusions he reached. It required much more than simply following the lines of reason. Perhaps that’s why Dottore often struggled with it. 

Yet he did not have the luxury of time to continue pondering, for he did not want to leave you by yourself for much longer. And so he continued to sit at his desk, his hands automatically filling out paperwork while his mind was focused elsewhere, still thinking about what he could possibly gift you. Something warm and cuddly with the ability to communicate with you to some extent…

That was when he remembered something he created long, long ago.

The memories of that creation came back to him rather quickly once he remembered. Dottore remembered every experiment he’d done, but some were just not very special or successful and lingered very little in his mind. This was one of those unnoteworthy results. It was no secret that he was known to… play around with the concept of life, ignoring the rules that guarded it so strictly… and it was this idea that led to the birth of a creature, one that certainly did not belong to this world.

It was a monstrous, furry black thing that hid its true self with some kind of suit, its lone eye bright and red. It hadn’t been the first time his experiments led him to the unknown, but this… was just something he didn’t care about at all. After a few tests on the creature, he lost interest rather quickly. It was the farthest thing away from the life Dottore wanted to toy with. In fact, he had planned to dispose of the thing, but the creature seemed to understand his words more than he anticipated. It quickly scurried away, creating chaos and knocking down almost everything it could, skillfully making its escape.

Dottore had contemplated searching for his odd creation but decided that it wasn’t worth the time or energy. Judging from the distaste it held for him, it probably wouldn’t come around anyway. So, it could exist in the far depths of the lab for all he cared. It wasn’t like this was the first time he threw things into the back and forgot about them. Now, he was rather pleased that he didn’t get rid of his experiment. He had known you for long enough that he was sure you’d find such a thing cute, for some reason. It checked the fluffy and easily holdable boxes too. His only question was whether it could be alive after all these years… well, it was certainly worth a shot, seeing as his solutions were limited.

The answer to Dottore’s question was a yes. It had unfortunately taken much longer than he’d liked to search the dusty rooms (although admittedly, he had gotten a bit distracted with reviewing the old things he dumped) but at long last, he had found the round creature peacefully dozing without a care in… some kind of bed it had crafted with a bunch of papers and black fur. It looked perfectly content… in all honesty, Dottore was a bit interested in what it had been up to all this time. Maybe it held more scientific value than he thought… 

Regardless, in one swift motion, Dottore grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck and it immediately awoke, attempting to scramble away. Once its single eye laid on the man who so rudely interrupted its sleep, it blinked, before multiplying its strength to escape, even trying to scratch him, but to no avail. The Harbinger’s grip was far too strong, of course. Meanwhile, Dottore had already lost a bit of patience from the creature’s incessant movements.

“Stop that,” he demanded sharply, and the critter instantly went still as its eye continued to stare at him completely widened. Dottore smiled, which felt rather eerie and frightening to the oversized creature.

“What, did you think I came all the way here to finish the job? Oh no, if I wanted to, I would have done so already a long time ago. Instead, I have another use for you. Something that will benefit both of us. I’m sure you’ll agree,” he hummed as he turned to leave the room. But as he took a single step, he found himself stepping on something soft. Curiously lifting his foot, he looked down to see a small, black, round ball of fluff staring at him with a red eye identical to the creature he held in his hand. And then another came into view.

… And another. Soon at least over a dozen had popped out of the shadows, all watching at him with anticipating eyes. He had forgotten these balls of black fur were also a byproduct of creating the creature. Now quite a few had surrounded his feet and were hopping up and down, attempting to climb his pants, which he quickly shook off with a scowl. Well, it looked like these things were going to follow him regardless of what he said…

“If you all are going to follow me, be prepared to make yourself useful,” he sighed in exasperation before finally leaving, stepping on a few more in the process. (The usefulness in question, was making sure you’d be left with a smile.) Based on the odd squeaking noises the smaller creatures made, they seemed to be on board with the idea. 

—

When your husband suddenly presented you with a gift contained in a rather large box, you were a bit surprised. Not because you were receiving a gift, but because of the size of it. Normally, he would give you small trinkets and such, things he’d thought you’d like (that had no real purpose to him, retrieved solely for you. Yes, he was very cute unintentionally. You had a little shelf for his stuff.) But you had no clue what he could have possibly gotten for you that warranted the need for such a big container…

You had long discarded your book in favor of new entertainment (you were reading the same sentences over and over anyway), your hands gliding over the rough material. Dottore was looking at you expectantly, having barely said anything besides shoving the thing on your bed, with a simple “for you.” You couldn’t help but chuckle, your chest getting a bit lighter from the previously stuffy atmosphere dissipating.

“Are you going to explain yourself or leave me guessing as to what I’ve done to receive such a thing?”

“You have been lonely and tired, and I seek to alleviate your pain. Yet there are certain things I cannot always do, which is why I found a solution,” he stated simply, pushing the box closer to you as if it was no big deal. Your eyes widened as your jaw hung, speechless, before you sent a small, teasing smile to your husband.

“I… well, who knew you could be such a considerate man? Keep that up and you’ll make me blush.” You couldn’t help but heat up a bit from his concern, although he didn’t say it outright. And you didn’t really have it in you to deny his words too, he was right after all, you have been lonely and tired from being cooped up in your room all day.

“Still, I want a hint! Ah, it’s too heavy for me to even lift up…” You couldn’t guess what could be in here. “Could it be the latest new novels from Inazuma?”

“No, but those are on the way. It’s something more-” At that moment, the box slightly shifted and you blinked in surprise.

“Oh, oh! Are these new models of Beta’s miniature Ruin Machines? Did he finally make the Ruin Sentinels series?” In truth, initially, the segment wasn’t interested in creating such pointless machines, but after you oh so innocently challenged him to make them movable and fit in the palm of your hand, he took the bait and presented them to you smugly. Needless to say, you very much liked your little collection of action figures, and you were hoping he had finally made ones that could fly.

“No, it’s-” Once again, he was interrupted by even more dramatic shuffling, thumping echoing loudly from inside the box which made you scoot back a bit.

“Dottore, you sure whatever’s in here isn’t going to attack me…?” Your voice was more lighthearted than worried, but now you were squinting at him a bit suspiciously. Dottore’s expression remained unaffected, but inside he was the slightest bit annoyed. He had told those damn things not to move around. Thankfully, a sharp slap to the cover of the box caused the movements to cease, and he only smiled at you once again.

“As I was saying, it’s something you have been asking about for a long time.” He watched as your face turned thoughtful, fingers drumming when suddenly it became very obvious as to what it was. 

“Is it… is it what I think it is?” He found your expression rather amusing as he witnessed your eyes becoming sparkly with joy.

“Go ahead,” Dottore motioned and you wasted no time pulling the cover off the box, your eyes meeting a furry, blue creature whose lone eye gazed up at you curiously. You blinked at it, and it blinked back at you, but you had no time to say anything before some other unknown creatures began pouring out the box and spilling onto your bed, some crawling on your lap. This was certainly not the average pet you had expected… but you were not complaining. These things were the cutest - not to mention the little strand of hair on the top.

“Dottore,” you giggled at the fluff tickling your skin, “what exactly are these- oh!” Your words were interrupted when the larger creature suddenly jumped out of the box and launched itself into you, pawing your chest. You reciprocated the attention in delight, giving it numerous head pats and taking a closer look at it. Most of its soft fur seemed to be blue, although its head was black, and its beak was harder than the rest of its body. Regardless, it was completely adorable, and it seemed to like you very much.

“It is something I created in my lab during one of my experiments. I figured it would be something you’d enjoy.” You lit up, and the scholar couldn’t help but appreciate how you seemed to glow.

“You made these little guys for me? Oh, I always knew you could be such a romantic! I have my husband, my son, and now a cute pet. Isn’t it nice to see our family grow, Zandik?” He remained silent at your hastily made conclusion, deciding that the little white lie wouldn’t hurt, especially not when you looked this happy. After all, he imagined your response to him keeping this creature in the backrooms of his laboratory for ages wouldn’t be very well received, considering how attached you were to it already. Thankfully, you didn’t notice the glare the creature sent him either.

“Do they have names yet?” Dottore thought back to the string of numbers and letters attached to this experiment and opted not to disclose that, shaking his head. You hummed, trying to think of what name to bestow upon your new pets until you quickly came up with something good.

“Foxttore,” you stated firmly.

“Foxttore?” He repeated a few seconds after you, rather unimpressed.

“Yes! Because he looks like a fox, and he also kind of looks like you!” You playfully squished the creature’s cheeks.

“I bear no resemblance to that creature,” he frowned, immediately refuting your statement.

“Don’t look like that,” you teased. “It’s a compliment. You’re both cuties that are the same shade of blue,” you leaned in to kiss him gently, a simple way to silence him despite his vexation. “Now as for these little ones…” you thought once more as the black puff balls clung to your arm, Dottorelings… no, that’s too long… how about pufflings? Yes, that will do nicely!” Seemingly understanding your words, the pufflings began jumping up and down in glee. You then moved closer to the man and enveloped him in a hug.

“Thank you for this, Zandik. I am very happy,” you whispered quietly as you snuggled into his neck. It was the truth - you really were happy to have some company constantly around. Your husband returned the hug and you loved how his strong arms felt around you.

“Of course. But if they happen to cause you any… trouble,” he sent a look to the thing now called “Foxttore”, “be sure to tell me.”

“Aww, don’t say that. Foxttore is a good boy! Right?” You smiled brightly at your new pet, who was kneading the blanket, watching the two of you. The contrast between its creator’s less-than-pleasant face and your wide grin was stark and rather easy to choose from. It then hopped up and practically wedged itself in between the two of you, looking up to you with a pleading eye, desperate for attention. You squealed with delight and pressed the creature to your cheek, nuzzling against it.

When Dottore noticed the cheeky look his creation sent him, he wondered if this was actually a good idea.

—

Foxttore and the pufflings were the best and cutest companions you could ever ask for.

The pufflings were always scattered about your room, resting in different locations. You honestly had no clue how many there were, nor could you tell them apart, but you swore they squeezed through the bottom of your door somehow because sometimes they’d return with random items. They seemed pretty starved for attention… they even liked it when you squished them like a stress ball.

Foxttore was equally as cuddly, but also rather intelligent. He would fetch you items so you didn’t need to get up, and he could even turn a doorknob… you were fascinated. One of your favorite things to do was give him a note for him to deliver to a segment, and he would actually deliver it. (Said note usually contained you begging a segment to visit you, otherwise you’d die without their attention.)

After a lot of cuddling and rubbing, you found out that Foxttore was just a severely oversized puffling with four legs instead. That blue fur of his wasn’t even his, just a suit he wore. It was quite funny to see him without it on. It seemed rather shy without its fox fur, but with enough kisses, hugs, and reassurance, it had no problem lounging around without it.

You read them stories, showed them everything your room had to offer, placed some of Beta’s cute pink bows on them, bathed with them - you were starting to look forward to the day much more now that you could wake up to them.

—

While Dottore knew that you would get attached to the little monstrosities he gifted you, perhaps he didn’t anticipate it to reach this degree. Even after you had gotten well enough to stroll around the lab again, the blasted things were attached to your hip the whole time.

Visiting the segments? They would come up to you, caressing and teasing you with their deliciously infuriating small touches and kisses, and then all of a sudden a small crash would sound throughout the room, the culprit being Foxttore.

Visiting him? He’d have you on his lap, about to pin you to his desk, when he noticed the pufflings watching him from all corners of the room. It was maddening trying to chase them away, but then you’d get pouty about how the creatures didn’t like to be alone. (The only segment that the creature seemed to like was Zandy, although it had taken a while - a bit of scolding from you, and many offerings of food from the child to Foxttore had done the trick.)

As much as Dottore was glad your mood had improved greatly, admittedly, it would please him if he could just chuck his creations out into the Snezhnayan snow, just to finally get some alone time with you. But you loved them too much, so he resolved to resort to other means… eventually.

Over time, your pets gradually began to not hog your attention the whole time, but you were very insistent on helping Dottore and them become friends. It wasn’t very easy, however, they seemed to have some tension between them. You weren’t really sure why, but you still loved having them together.

—

“Dottore! Oh Dottore, you have to watch this,” you puffed out your chest proudly as Foxttore trotted behind you. Your husband looked at you questioningly before you spread your arms out, directing them toward the creature.

“I taught Foxttore tricks! Watch this! Foxttore, sit!” Your pet obediently sat down, his tail wagging (although you had no clue how that worked since it was just a suit…)

“Foxttore, spin around!”

“Foxttore, roll over!”

“Now high-five me!” Dottore watched in amusement as the blue creature followed your commands with ease. Perhaps it really was smarter than he thought. Regardless, all he cared about was that you were occupied with something, rather than being by yourself.

“Okay, now fetch Dottore’s secret stash of sweets!” At that, Foxttore began making its way over to one of the numerous bookshelves in Dottore’s office before the Harbinger quickly realized what you said, and stopped the creature in its tracks.

“I knew there were too many pieces missing,” he stared at you humorlessly, while you sweated nervously.

“W-What? You said I was allowed to take some!”

“I said you, not this… thing,” the man then picked up Foxttore by its strands of blue hair, which the creature fought at, and dropped it in your arms like it was some pest. “I’m moving it.” 

“Please don’t! I won’t do it again!”

—

The continued pampering of Foxttore had, unfortunately for your lovers, become a norm to see around the lab. He was a spoiled lil shit, in other words, who could do no wrong in your eyes… which is why every new thing you did had little to no effect on them anymore besides an eye twitch of annoyance and a promise to bully the creature later. The current situation was one such time. Dottore had come into your room only to see many abnormally small clothes scattered on your bed, with you in the center of it all.

“Oh Dottie, you’re just in time! Look at what I got!” You then held up Foxttore in all his glory, his new hoodie substantially thinner with different patterns, a great big smile on your face.

… It was only you who had the privilege of using his time like this.

“Now before you ask how I got these, I had them custom-made! See, I wanted to sew the clothes myself, but my hands have been too shaky lately and then you’d get all grumpy if I hurt myself with the needle, so I just asked Columbina to find someone for me and she did! She’s a great friend!” You continued to ramble on. 

“See, the poor thing gets too hot sometimes, especially when he starts running on our walks,” you said sadly, while he wondered how exactly you walked this monstrosity, “that’s why I got him different clothes! And they’re stylish too! Look, he’s even got pajamas! Don’t you think it’s cute?” You looked at him, your eyes sparkling and glittering with light that dazzled him.

In all honesty, Dottore didn’t really care about the little abomination of a creature. In fact, he probably leaned more into disdain for it. But what he did care about was you, and what made you happy, what put a smile on your face since he hated for it to be missing.

“I believe your definition of cute is rather unusual.”

“Huh? How could you not think Foxttore is the cutest thing ever? Oh… I see your game. You think I’m the cutest thing ever, don’t you?” You boldly teased him which didn’t phase him, only making a confident smirk grow on his face.

“I suppose that would be accurate, yes. Nothing else comes to mind that could be compared to your beauty,” he said smoothly, plucking the creature from your hands and dropping it elsewhere, which it clearly disliked, but he was more interested in your reaction. Your mouth slightly ajar, heat creeping up your face with a flustered expression, breathing speeding up a bit.

“A-As long as you’re aware,” you mumbled shyly, turning your face away, although your slight smile was apparent.

Needless to say, Zandik was always aware of his beloved.

—

You always loved it when you were able to leave the lab. Sometimes they were frequent outings, sometimes they were very rare. It all depended on how well you had been feeling lately. Today, you had finally been able to go out for a short walk with Dottore after so long. The cold air and snow had you shivering, but feeling the wind hit your cheeks was worth it. (And being able to cling to your husband was a definite plus in your books.) But you were still happy to come back home.

… Especially when you were greeted by your little friend.

As soon as you walked through the door, you noticed that Foxttore was impatiently waiting by the entrance. The moment he saw you, he sped toward you at light speed and pawed at your legs for pets, hopping up and down. You couldn’t help but laugh as you bent down to give him some attention which he happily reciprocated, but then he pulled away and started wildly running around the two of you.

“Aww, Foxttore is having zoomies!”

“… Pardon?”

“He’s having zoomies!” You smiled at your husband before crouching down, and your pet immediately ran into your arms and settled himself there as you picked him up. “Aww, you must have missed us so much, didn’t you?” You cooed as you rubbed his tummy, while Dottore merely stared at you blankly. The man then noticed the creature’s eye had narrowed into a half circle directed toward him as if to mock him. 

If there was a point system between the two of them as to who was able to steal your attention more, Dottore would sorely be losing.

—

It was one of the few nights where you were able to spend a night like most couples do at the end of the day - resting in the same bed with your lover. You weren’t even sure how you managed to do it this time. You thought it was probably due to your persistence but also that he was genuinely tired. (Well, he had been genuinely tired for ages now, but you were able to get him on a weak day, perhaps.)

You had always loved it when Dottore held you, even if it was slack or just one arm, you always felt safe. Protected. Warm. Happy. The feelings only amplified when both his arms caged you into his chest, which was the perfect place for you to snuggle. (Still, he’d never admit to being the little spoon from when he was a student.)

“Hey, Zandik?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done lately, by the way.”

“Of course,” his answer was as simple as could be. He stroked your hair languidly, always one to brush off your thank yous.

“I mean it,” you wiggled out of his grip to look him in the eye, lip jutting out slightly.

“I already know you do. You do not need to keep saying it every time.” You pouted at his response. How else were you supposed to show your appreciation? You then grabbed his arm, which was surprisingly pliable, and placed his hand over your heart.

“Then let me know if you need anything from me. Anything at all. I have to pay you back eventually, you know.” Dottore looked as if he was enjoying himself.

“What do you propose? I’ll listen to your suggestions.”

“Well… I have kisses and cuddles as my expertise. I can cook and bake for you sometimes too… oh, but I can also try doing some of your paperwork! …What? You’re not impressed? I guess I can try to do some more… unsavory tasks as well. The Fatui agents listen to what I have to say quite easily,” you continued to chatter as Dottore’s fingers made their way from your cheek to your neck and then your collarbone, making you stammer at the sensation. “Hey, you’re not even taking me seriously, are you?” Your husband only chuckled at your furrowed eyebrows and grumbling.

If anything, he would want you to repay him by letting him see the faces you’ll make once you’re finally free of your illness.

“Anyway…” you squeezed his hand with yours that still rested on your chest, “You probably know this already, with that ever-calculating mind of yours, but you hold my heart in your hands. I’ll always be here with you.” It was a funny thing to think about, giving your heart to someone like him, in both a physical and intangible sense. Trusting him with your frail body, trusting him with your love, knowing he could squeeze it to a pulp if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t.

He would treat your heart with the utmost care and precaution, not daring to risk even the slightest harm to it.

Dottore stared at you for a few moments while you held his gaze, resolute on making your point known. Wordlessly, he began to move closer to your soft lips, intent on making his response to your statement physical. He was so close, his nose brushing against yours, and your warm breath on his. He was about to finally satiate his desire when-

Something was scratching at the door. Loudly, too. The sudden noise made you jump back and turn your gaze to the door. The Harbinger had a bad feeling about this.

“Did you hear that?”

“No.”

“You’re just lying now!” With a huff, you pushed the blankets off, much to his displeasure, and made your way to the door, opening it. There was Foxttore, making strange noises that he tried his best to mask as cries.

The bliss Dottore felt a few moments ago had turned to immense annoyance immediately.

“Oh, you poor baby! Did you have a nightmare or something?” You exclaimed before quickly scooping Foxttore into your arms and bringing him onto the bed. “It’s okay, you’re with us now…” You softly murmured, stroking it gently as you let it settle on your chest. Where Dottore’s hands should be right now, cupping your soft skin instead of that damned creature.

Dottore swore he was going to throw that thing out once you were asleep.

[arlestial]

❝lavender haze❞

synopsis : Rin begged Ego to let you assist to one of his training games. But he wasn’t quite fond of your interactions with a certain player..

pairing : Rin Itoshi x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : A mix of fluff and comfort, with the slightest bit of angst (jealousy themes, possessiveness)

word count : 2700~ words

author-note : Hi !!! It's been so long, I missed writing so much... I finally passed my final exams, and I'm now in vacations; I’m going to Austria today. My blog is like- a blue lock obsession at this point lmao but ngl i like it that way. Btw, I’ve seen the movie and I'm just plain disappointed ? It was short asf, and the animation... well, we don't wanna talk about it. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated :) sorry if it’s bad btw !! Anyway, take care of yourself ♡

A rare, smug smile appeared on RIN ITOSHI’s lips; a smile that immediately triggered his teammates, who looked at each other, dumbfounded. They weren’t used to observe him with such an expression written on his usual stern features; as soon as he left the locker rooms, whispers emerged in the sweaty air, begging for an explanation.

"No way he did," Isagi contested with a frown and a disapproving tone, much to Bachira’s dismay.

"I’ve seen it with my eyes," The other retorqued, "Believe me. He smiled, dude. I’ve never seen him smile before."

"We’re gonna get fired from Blue Lock. I swear— he wouldn’t be happy if it wasn’t terrible. He’s a sadist."

"No worries, my dear Isagi. We’re going to elucidate this mystery together," Bachira replied with a proud smirk of his own; Isagi sighed at his friend’s antics.

"Maybe it’s personal."

"It’s never personal enough for us not to be nosy !" The dual-haired boy nearly gasped, "Our duo is unstoppable."

With more or less desire to intrude Rin’s life, Isagi joined Bachira into a rather quick — and disappointing — mission, to solve the mystery around the cold-hearted guy’s smile, a smile they had the chance to witness.

"Ah. Itoshi asked Ego to let his partner see the next training game. I didn’t know he would be this enthusiastic once Ego accepted."

Anri’s revelation should’ve been a relief for the two men — they wouldn’t be expelled of the program. Thus, Isagi had been surprised and confused when he noticed Bachira’s quiet attitude.

"Aren’t you supposed to be delighted you discovered the truth ?", The raven-haired boy asked, curious, as they walked in the corridor to join their rooms again.

"I didn’t even have time to feel the thrill of the investigation," the other whined.

"At least we know he has a partner. It’s… let’s just say it’s surprising someone like him could ever get someone."

"Someone like me ?"

The sudden third voice scared the two men off, and they jumped. Of course, it was Rin. Always there at the worst moment. Isagi gulped.

"H-Hey, I didn’t mean it like that—"

"What Isagi was trying to say, is that we’re not picturing you as the lovey-dovey type of guy, you know ? Not a good boyfriend or something."

If Isagi could facepalm right now, he would, "Thank you for your help, Bachira, it’s even worse now", he replied in a murmur.

"Who said I couldn’t be the "lovey-dovey type of guy" ?", Rin huffed in his usual cold tone, "and a good boyfriend ?"

"Everyone," the two others responded at the same time. Rin rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"So, y’all just sat down and talk about who could be a good partner or not ? That’s probably why you’re still fucking losers at soccer."

Bachira held Isagi back, amused by his eagerness to show Rin "who’s the real loser between them". Rin walked away confidently, and above all, enlivened by Ego’s answer. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it, the butterflies already flying eagerly in his stomach in anticipation.

RIN ITOSHI’s belly butterflies died in an instant. It wasn’t fair. At all. He had been longing for you since weeks now, months even; he negotiated with Ego for who-knows-long, trying to find a way to make you come to a training game of his — so that he wouldn’t have to search for you in a huge crowd of exasperating, futile, and bland people. And here he was, watching you from afar talking with Isagi Yoichi. He cursed under his breath. This dude had nothing to do with you. He was nothing compared to Rin; a mere guy, with limited soccer skills and knowledge and experience and — why were you talking with him anyway ? When he was right there, waiting for you. The training have haven't even started yet, and playing with Isagi left a bitter taste in his mouth. He threw a hard glare in your direction, which you immediately noticed; you waved at him with a smile, and it nearly made him melt. It would've if he wasn't this upset in the first place. Bachira called for Isagi, and the raven-haired boy returned to the field with a smile. If he could, Rin would definitely wipe the smile off this random guy's face.

RIN ITOSHI tried not to let this affect him. But the prominent and everlasting burning sensation in his chest clouded his mind, making him loose his focus each time his eyes would fall on either Isagi, or you. And god knows how much he had missed you, how he needed to touch you now, to feel your skin just against his — to kiss you endlessly, and his gaze softened by pure reflex as he noticed you were staring at him. He felt guilty, to entertain such hideous resentment towards you, while you were just there for him, as beautiful as the day he left you in your shared apartment to join Blue Lock again after his short break. Was he jealous? It couldn't be. Why would he be jealous of Isagi? He was better than him in everything. Atter 45 minutes, when they all got a short break from the match, Rin refused to say a word. He was always rather quiet - but now, it felt a bit weird. He just stared at Isagi with a cold gaze, and the other boy frowned. When they had to join the field again, Isagi stopped Rin, a hand laying on his shoulder.

"Hey, is everything okay? If it's about the score of earlier, I already said -"

"Look," Rin cut out quickly, his tone slowly shifting to an irritated one, "I don't want to hear your fucking voice."

Isagi's brows were now even more furrowed in confusion,

"What the.. I did nothing bad, dude. If you're upset, that's not my problem. Deal with your childish feelings alone, I don't know."

Childish feelings ? It was deeper than that. Much to Rin's own surprise, he grabbed Isagi's collar, dragging him closer with a menacing look. He didn't know, did he ? How much Rin loved you, how much he required your whole attention. Maybe it was childish indeed, selfish even, to desire to be your whole world. The only one you would ever think about. If he could make you his forever, he would; and at the same time, you had every right to talk to other people, be friends with anyone, you were free after all. But that wouldn’t rub out the aching feeling in his heart, seeing you smile with someone else, having a good time with someone who wasn’t him. Maybe because in the very end, he was scared of losing you. Of you, finally realizing you deserved far better than what he could give you. He was distant, sometimes. He hurt you too much, argued with you on futile things, left for Blue Lock for months, he was a huge mess, and still, you wanted him. It was a mystery for Rin, but he wouldn’t ever complain. He was too engrossed in your love and affection, and somehow, even if he knew it was fundamentally wrong, he’d never wish for you to realize what you truly deserved. Because it wasn’t him. And he couldn’t bare to see you enjoying your life with someone else other than him.

"I’m going to end your pathetic and meaningless existence so quickly you won’t have time to take another breath," Rin spat sharply, "I’ll politely advice you not to approach them ever again — don’t want your disgusting germs to infect them, understood ?"

With these words, Rin yanked him away and joined the field, leaving a widened-eyed Isagi behind him. As soon as the game ended, the whole Blue Lock team began gathering their water bottles, heading to the locker rooms. Rin stayed behind, since he wanted to spend some time with you before your departure. When you both were finally alone, you walked down the stairs, and Rin immediately engulfed you in his arms. One hand was grabbing your side, the other resting on the back of your head, pulling you close. He sighed, inhaling your familiar perfume — it was his favorite, the one he gifted you recently — and pressed a delicate kiss to the crown of your head.

"I missed you so much," He declared, or more precisely, complained, and you chuckled, embracing him just as tightly.

"And I missed you even more," you responded, loosening your embrace to look at him. He could die for this fond look in the depths of your irises. You didn’t have to ask; his hands reached for your cheeks, tilting your head backwards to kiss you gently, yet, eagerly, a pleading for your tenderness. You kissed him back, amused by his move. He was usually the reserved type, especially in public — even if the whole stadium was empty now. Your lips parted to welcome his tongue inside, deepening the kiss even more, a slow dance mimicking his need for you. He kissed your forehead softly when you two broke away from one another.

"What happened earlier ? With Isagi. I thought you were gonna fight."

The question tensed him. Of course you had to bring it up. He stroked your cheek delicately, as if you’d shatter if he wasn’t careful enough.

"Nothing, love, don’t worry. I was just—"

"He told me about it, Rin."

You cut him, and he winced. Ah. That was a problem. He swore he discerned a tint of disappointment in your eyes, but it faded away too rapidly for him to search for it again.

"I thought we said no lies between us."

"I know, darling", he could only mutter. You gently took his wrists, then his hands, intertwining your fingers together.

"Am I not reassuring you enough, Rin ? I won’t ever leave you. Especially not for a guy I just met. You know that."

"More than enough," the memory of your smile and laugh when Isagi cracked a joke made him sigh, "it’s hard to believe sometimes. That’s all."

You nodded; with his lack of self-esteem, how was he supposed to believe you, anyway ? It was a constant fight against the insecurities crawling in the pit of his soul, however, you would never let them win. He suffered enough alone, now that you were there with him, you’d be in the frontlines.

"But it’s still true. I’m lucky to have you, Rin. Maybe one day you’d finally recognize that."

At this moment, he wanted to tell you he was lucky to have you, but he didn’t dare, especially not when he saw you reaching for him again, your arms around his neck. He let himself drown in your arms and comfort, soothed by your heartbeat — at this very precise instant, he swore his heart was beating for you. And if you wanted it on a silver plate, he’d gladly do so.

"I’m sure his joke wasn’t even that funny."

You chuckled, "maybe not better than yours, I must admit."

Not far away, two boys were spying on the scene; their investigation had been more successful than what they ever hoped for, "maybe he’s not that bad, after all."

"I thought he was going to choke me to death."

"Oh, he could."

RIN ITOSHI was a possessive man. Somewhere, he wanted you to rely on him, and him only — to be the only source of your happiness. He never had something to call his; you were the first. And he fully intended you to be the last.

[magnoliaswriteatsunset]

I watched a reel showing what Zayne said after being gone for 30 days. I can’t help but wonder about something.

Imagine this:

We are the MC. We are because we customized her and the cafe can show time passing from morning to evening, then night based on the time of where we are/the server. Usually, we/MC always tells the guys/chosen love interest(s) if we are leaving. We can say good night and hello when we meet.

But something bugs me.

When we exit the game and leave for 30 days, sometimes less, sometimes more, they send messages. Try to get in touch. Search the spots we frequent. Check in on things we left behind to keep them in order and in good shape for when we return. They don’t know when we’ll come back. If we’ll ever come back. All they know how to do is wait. Wait for someone who seems to have disappeared off the face of the planet.

A thought occurred to me.

What if the reason no one can find us, and the reason no one else seems too concerned, is because in their world once we exit the game, MC, us, our avatar, the only way for us to show and give our love to the guys, ceases to exist, but are not completely erased.

The side characters are none the wiser, believing we were sent away on a classified mission or simple were too busy to socialize with their peers. However, the love interests are different. They are aware of the situation to some extent, at the least. They know us well by now. They know we wouldn’t disappear without good reason. And the threats surrounding us are ever present. But something’s off. If that were true, and we were taken by force, they know we wouldn’t go without a fight. They know we would have left traces of *something* behind. Anything. From a knocked over glass to cameras watching over Linkon. They would have found it. But no. It’s like once we step foot outside the game, out side of Destiny Cafe, we simply cease to exist.

The space itself is empty, save for the lone chair the love interests lounge in, only allowing one at a time. No staff to take your order, no customers chatting idly in the background as they sip on their drinks and eat whatever food they bought earlier, no people passing by the windows or coming in and out of the building. Just us, our love interest, and this empty space all to ourselves, playing music of our choice non-stop.

I think we forget, at times, that we have more power over this “world” than we realize. That our choices, feelings and thoughts have sway over how we perceive their world.

But what really gets me, is that it’s as though there is mutual comfort to be found.

Comforting us by easing our worries, waiting for us, the world refusing to turn unless we arrive. Comforting them by interacting with them, touching them, conversing with them, sometimes reacting to what is going on beyond the screen in eerily perfect timing, even though they don’t know what’s actually going on. They are just programmed to do so. Nothing more, nothing less.

Here’s what gets me, though.

We have all this interaction, all this time together, chatting, studying, working (while trying to act like or blatantly staring at each other), playing, or even sleeping together (literally just sleeping, like a nap with the phone on because your too exhausted to exit beforehand). Then suddenly, it’s like we’re a ghost. Gone. No one else has seen us. The only thing left is the echoes of where we once stood.

I wonder,

Do they wait in that chair, acting as though we exist beyond those cafe walls? As if they’ll find us on a walk in the park or fighting to protect Linkon? Do they sit and wait, switching out from time to time to try and see who will get to be in the cafe when you arrive?

So many questions.

Perhaps, in their world, you are the only thing that helps time move forward. Everything else feels flat and stagnant. As their whole world encompasses this small room.

Do you know?

Do you understand what they do while they wait?

Do you feel the same longing and yearning for them as they do for you?

Do you wait? For them? Or is the world around you able to keep you company? Unlike their own. At least, not the way yours does.

Will you ever get to be with them? No longer being stuck behind a screen and wall of code. Would you still love them, without that safety net? Or would it be too much for either of you to bear?

…..

I deviated a bit from where I originally planned to go but I’ll expand more on these later. What do you think? What ideas are bouncing around in that brain of yours? (I also put stuff down in the tags if your interested by it’s mostly just little note from me.

[docdudo]

Hi!! I want to start by saying I absolutely love your writing! It’s great writing and is pretty good for me to understand (English isn’t my first language).

I just wanted to ask, How do you think poly hybrid 141 would react to adopted reader getting sick?? And I mean really sick, like a good case of the flu that takes a whole week, like 7 days and antibiotics to go away??

I could see them being so worried and stressed, taking her to doctors and everything because they get better in 24-48 hours with their fancy strong immune systems! I also wonder if adopted reader would be confused by going to the doctors, because if anything happend while in previous foster homes, she was told to just figure it out and get better on her own.

You are right about one thing: hybrids have a better immune system than humans do!

Humans are considered weak and frail in every sense of the word. That includes their health. In fact, a human's health is so discussed that specialists from other races all study the human body constantly so they would be able to treat one, would they ever needed it.

(Because of the lack of total humans on this universe, it's rare to find a human doctor, for example. So, other races have to cover for them in a lot of different fields. There are programs and organizations in this world that entierelly foucused on making sure the few humans that exist would get the care they need. So, for example, if you are a doctor and also specialize on taking care of humans beside some other race, you would probably be paid more by the governement).

Now, little reader getting sick? Like, really sick? Yeah, that house is turning upside down. As hybrids, the whole 141 pride themselves on being good caretakers and providers. They also know how much more frail humans are compared to them.

But know is different from experiencing.

Little reader would start off with the typical signs of the flu. Stuffy nose, throat a bit sore, a sluggish body. All that. But, as we all know, it's very quick for sickness to develop. And in the spam of a night, little reader is waking up with a high fever and a weak, useless body.

The 141 would notice almost immediatly. They can smell how sick you are, even from your room. That weird, almost sour smell that we can usually smell when we blow our nose.

Before you know it, you would probably be in Price's or Soap's arms, surronded by their warmth, hearing their cooed words that make zero to almost no sense to your sick and hazy mind.

And at first, they are very much panicking. They are calling the rest of their pack while cooing and conforting you, Laswell being the one to tell them to immediatly take you to the doctor.

And they do, everyone going on the car together, because if one of them had anything to do that day, it's immediatly getting canceled. They would still hold you close, on their laps, and every single one of them are cooing quietly at you. Even Ghost. Tho his "cooing" sounds more like his normal voice, just extra quiet and gentler than usual.

And it's true, you're not that used to going to the doctor. You usually never get that sick, and as a foster kid, it just doesn't happen often.

But, you were feeling pretty hazy, mind clouded and feverish. You barely remember going that first time to the doctor with them.

You barely remember the kind doctor that was trying his best to easy your foster parents' worries, and all the examination he did on you, even if you couldnt cooperate much with how confused you were.

You certainly got treated at the hospital and monitored until your fever came down a bit. After that, they send you back home with your parents, who had gotten a lot of new instructions and medicines to properly take care of you at home.

You took almost a full week to finally start getting better.

They would't let you sleep in your room anymore, since you got sick, you had been sleeping on their shared nest, with them. They would constantly check on your breathing and heartbeats, and would even feed you themselves and make sure you were plenty hydrated.

And even after you got better, they would still be extra careful and overbearing for a little while longer.

You can be sure that they would be taking extra measures now so that you never get sick again.

[unusualtfs]

The Roommate Compatibility Program

this is my first time posting something like this to tumblr, hope it's an enjoyable read !

Arthur and Jimmy may have had the same last name, but that was the only thing they had in common.

Arthur Lee was, by all accounts, a nerd. When the Asian math major wasn’t dutifully taking notes on complex equations at his lectures or studying in silence at the library, he could usually be found holed up in his dorm, gaming until the wee hours of the morning. His only extracurricular activity to speak of was his weekly participation in the Chinese Student Union, if by “participation” one meant “sitting in the back of the room and not speaking to anyone.” His naturally pale skin was made even more so by a lack of sunlight, and his messy black hair resisted any attempt at styling. Short, shrimpy, and gay, he had clearly never seen the inside of a gym. In short, he was the exact opposite of his roommate.

Jimmy Lee was everything Arthur was not. Tall where Arthur was short, buff where Arthur was skinny, popular where Arthur was friendless. The straight white jock spent his days living out the all-American college fantasy — playing sports, pumping iron, and partying all night long. Of course, that hardly left any time for Jimmy to work toward his comms degree — but that hardly mattered, because everyone knew he was as dumb as a bag of rocks. His brutish Neanderthal features, extensive body hair, and blond buzz cut only added to that impression.

Maybe it would have been unrealistic to expect Arthur and Jimmy to be friends, but certainly no one could have anticipated the sheer antipathy that defined their roommate relationship. Arthur’s reasons for hating Jimmy were predictable — he was dumb, loud, and obnoxious; he left dirty clothes and sweaty exercise gear everywhere; and he stank up the dorm with his alpha musk. Jimmy equally couldn’t stand his prissy, prudish roommate. Arthur nagged him constantly, and he shot down all his invitations to work out or go out. Not to mention, he forbade Jimmy from getting laid while he was in the room, which was all the time. Nothing said unsexy like the presence of a judgmental Asian nerd hunched over his gaming PC at two in the morning.

Needless to say, it was not an ideal situation for anyone. So when a flier for the Roommate Compatibility Program was slipped under their door one evening, their interest was piqued.

Having issues with your roommate(s)? The Roommate Compatibility Program is here to help! Our trained experts use scientifically proven methods to ensure you and your roommate have a lifelong bond. 100% success rate, guaranteed!

In a rare moment of agreement for them, they decided they had nothing to lose.

That was how they found themselves entertaining a stranger in their dorm the next day. The man, who had introduced himself as “Mr. Thompson-Filipowski, from the RCP — but you can call me Mr. T.F. for short” had shown up out of the blue, giving them no time to prepare. So now they sat in their respective beds, answering Mr. T.F.’s questions as he appraised their living space thoughtfully. He wore a loud blue suit and had in hand a clipboard that he occasionally used to jot down notes, but otherwise he had no distinguishing features to speak of. Everything else about him, from his build to his skin tone to his hairstyle, was somehow impossible to pin down. He must have just had one of those faces.

“Thank you, boys,” he said after he was done interrogating them about their (lack of a) relationship. “I just have one more question for each of you before we can officially get started.” He turned to Jimmy first. “Jimmy, what would your ideal roommate be like?”

Jimmy had to think for quite a bit at that question. Finally, he responded in his vapid baritone: “Uh, I dunno… I guess he would just, like, be my bro.”

Mr. T.F. nodded, scribbling something on his clipboard. “Okay, excellent.” He turned to the Asian nerd next. “And Arthur, what about you?”

“My ideal roommate would be someone who’s, well, similar to me,” Arthur said, wincing at how his voice still cracked at every word. “Someone who shares my interests, and who I can spend time with, and… yeah.”

Mr. T.F. returned to his clipboard. “Right,” he said. “So, to summarize — Jimmy, you want your roommate to be your bro. And Arthur, you want your roommate to be similar to you. Is that correct?” There was a strange weight to his words, exuding the sense that something significant was carried within them, but Jimmy didn’t register this and Arthur thought it irrational, so both roommates ignored it. They nodded.

“Excellent!” Mr. T.F. said, the ominous presence now gone from his voice. “Okay, so often what we’ve found at the RCP is that roommate incompatibility is often a case of misapplied expectations. Often, our roommates do meet our expectations, you just need to keep an open mind about it. I’d wager you boys have much more in common than you think.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and Jimmy audibly scoffed at that, but they both kept listening anyway.

“For instance, looking around your dorm room, I can tell that both of you have a pretty similar fashion sense, wouldn’t you say?”

Arthur wanted to protest that all of the clothes strewn about belonged to Jimmy, not him, but the more he looked, the more he realized that wasn’t entirely true. That jersey on the floor definitely belonged to him, as did the baseball cap hanging from his bed and the sweaty white socks next to his desk. In fact, now that he thought about it, roughly half of the clothing he could see actually was his. Huh, he supposed he did dress similarly to Jimmy, then…

“I guess so,” Jimmy said as Arthur was distracted. “It’s hard to remember whose is whose sometimes because we dress the same and wear the same size, huhuh.”

As Jimmy spoke, his words became reality. He didn’t notice, but he shrunk down a few inches from his previously monstrous height until he was just under six feet — still respectable, but no longer anything more. Meanwhile, Arthur rose dramatically to meet him, until they stood at the exact same height. Since the two were equally small and shared the same taste in schlubby, sporty clothes, they essentially owned one wardrobe between them, borrowing and swapping constantly — although what looked tight and well-fitted on the muscular Ajimmy was loose and baggy on the lanky Jarthur. Curiously, the shirt Jarthur currently wore was the one item of clothing he wore that didn’t update itself to match his new reality; as such, it was now uncomfortably small on him.

Mr. T.F. continued, “And judging by the sports gear and gaming equipment in here, it looks like you also have similar interests, isn’t that right? Have you ever tried bonding over that?”

Again, it seemed Mr. T.F. was mistaken. Yes, their room indicated their respective interests in fitness and video games, but those interests were far from shared. Jarthur wanted to correct him, but then he had to reconsider. While he wasn’t into sports like Ajimmy, he certainly knew his way around them. He got as hyped as any other guy watching the Super Bowl, and he had fun whenever he was invited to play a quick game of basketball or soccer.

Meanwhile, Ajimmy was trying not to laugh at the implication that he liked video games. What did Mr. T.F. take him for, some nerd like Jarthur? But now that he thought about it… he did have fond memories of owning his bros with his mad gaming skills. He didn’t really want to call himself a gamer — he wasn’t into any of that anime or Nintendo kiddie shit. But Madden, CoD? Yeah, he fucked with those.

Imperceptibly, the dorm room shifted to match the roommates’ changing interests. Posters of popular players duplicated themselves from Ajimmy’s side of the room and pinned themselves into the wall above Jarthur’s bed. At the same time, the gaming computer vanished from Jarthur’s desk, swiftly replaced by a small TV between their beds. Well-used controllers popped into existence, one for each of them. The roommates themselves weren’t spared from the wave of changes, either. The tan leached out of Asjimm’s skin until he was quite pale, although not unhealthily so. Meanwhile, muscles made themselves known for the first time all across Joethur’s body. He was still lanky, but there was a definite sculptedness to his body that had never been there before, demonstrating his newfound appreciation of physical activity and straining his shirt even further.

“Yeah, all the time,” Joethur responded to Mr. T.F.’s questions. “I can destroy Asjimm at basketball in real life and in 2K,” he bragged.

“As if!” Asjimm retorted good-naturedly. “Next time, I’m kicking your ass, nerd!”

Joethur laughed. He may have had some problems with his roommate, but their shared competitiveness was not one of them.

“Ah, that’s lovely to hear,” Mr. T.F. said, checking a box on his clipboard. “The best way to become closer is to spend time together, after all. But that should be easy for you two — I’d imagine your class schedules are quite similar, since you’re in the same major.”

What was Mr. T.F. talking about? Joethur had never taken a comms class in his life, and Asjimm would certainly never be caught dead in a math classroom. But then Joethur went over his class schedule in his head again, and he realized that he did share most of his classes with his roommate. There was Accounting 101 on Mondays and Wednesdays, and Entrepreneurship every Thursday morning… In fact, aside from Joethur’s one math class and Asjimm’s lone comms class, their schedules were identical! But how could that be the case…?

“Well, I mean, yeah, I guess we do,” Asjimm said. His face twisted into a cocky smirk. “But just between you and me, it’s not like we bother to show up to class most of the time, right Joethyr?”

Everything suddenly snapped into place for Joethyr. Ausjim was right, of course — being a business major required confidence, charisma, and leadership skills more than anything else, and both Joethyr and Ausjim had that in spades. It certainly didn’t require studying or smarts, which was fortunate for Joethyr, as his brain was rapidly shrinking to match his meatheaded roommate’s. In fact, it was even smaller than Ausjim’s — he had scored highly enough in high school math that he was able to take an elective comms class for an easy A this semester, while Joethyr was being forced to struggle through calculus for a second time.

Records across campus rapidly rewrote themselves to reflect this new reality. Ausjim’s grades rose slightly, even as Joethyr’s GPA dropped from a 4.0 to a 2.0 — but whatever, C’s got degrees. In turn, the two roommates underwent their own changes. Joethyr’s unkempt hair retreated into his skull, leaving behind a slick fade. Moreover, the spark of intelligence retreated from his eyes, leaving them dark and hard. Ausjim’s hair experienced the opposite change, growing out into an impeccably groomed quiff that perfectly framed his face, neutralizing his unattractive Neanderthal features. His body hair also faded into nothingness, leaving him totally clean-shaven. The business classes he was taking had taught him the importance of presentation, after all.

“Yeah, bruh,” Joethyr agreed, now speaking in the same vacant timbre as Ausjim.

“Well, how do you boys spend your time then?” Mr. T.F. prompted. He was nearly at the bottom of his checklist — this far into the process, he didn’t even need to guide the roommates’ transformation. Their new personalities had largely subsumed who they used to be, and would be happy to fill the remaining gaps by themselves.

“Isn’t it obvious, bruh?” Ausjim said. “The gym — duh! Gotta get those gains!”

At his roommate’s proclamation, Joethy underwent a startling change. At last, his muscles ballooned all across his body until they were identical in size to Ausjim’s. No longer did he have to settle for merely toned — he was well and truly ripped. So dramatic was the change that his shirt was instantly torn apart, revealing his glorious pecs and washboard abs for the world to see. The Asian hunk subconsciously flexed as he thought about his answer to Mr. T.F.’s question, realizing something funny in the process.

“Hell, we probably even spend more time at the Chinese Student Union than class, right bruh?” Joethy nudged his equally jockish roommate.

The word “Chinese” resonated in Ausjin’s mind as he experienced sudden changes of his own. His lush hair was quickly thickening and inexorably staining itself midnight black. And as for the rest of his body, his lack of hair down there became much easier to maintain, as he naturally had less of it. Meanwhile, his facial features were shifting all at once — brow softening, nose broadening, eyes narrowing, lips plumpening. Eventually, they settled on what the rest of his body had already become — a carbon copy of his roommate.

“Yeah, bro, totally…”

At the word “bro,” the roommates’ final changes began. The physical refinements were over, but there was still work to do mentally. Ausjin’s brain was purged of the faces of his former family, their white features morphing into far more familiar Asian ones. Fond memories shifted as his mother’s famous meatloaf became her authentic dumpling recipe, and the destination of his childhood summer vacations was corrected from Europe to China. Through it all, he remained the dumb, popular jock he had always been. That was also true of Joethy, who could no longer remember being a lame, skinny nerd. Nights spent studying were replaced with nights spent partying, and members of an extensive social circle easily entered the parts of his brain that had never experienced true friendship. His memories of his family remained the same, however — with one key addition. The newcomer’s face was blurry, but the more that he focused on it, the more familiar it seemed. Almost like… his own face…? Or was it Ausjin’s face? That seemed closer, but… 

By Joethy’s side, Ausjin found his memories haunted by an identical face. The two jocks sat there in dumbfounded silence, both trying to recall who it was that featured so prominently in their memories. What was his name? Not Joethy or Ausjin, but rather… rather…

“Joey! Austin!”

Joey and Austin Lee snapped back to attention, refocusing on their strange guest.

Mr. T.F. chuckled, putting his clipboard away. “You boys zoned out there for a sec! It’s okay, I’ll get out of your hair soon. I just have one last question for you — are you getting along as roommates?”

“Well, of course we’re getting along, bruh!” Austin exclaimed.

“We’re basically the same person already!” Joey finished his twin’s sentence with a pure, dull guffaw.

Because it was true. Joey and Austin Lee were clearly cut from the same cloth: The identical twin Asian jocks were both brainless, buff, bisexual business-major bros. The only appreciable difference between the twins was their hairstyles. Austin fancied himself a pretty boy, spending hours by the mirror meticulously maintaining his gelled hair. Joey, meanwhile, rocked a utilitarian crew cut, confident enough to put his angelic face on full display. But other than that, they were totally inseparable — everything they did, from working out to gaming to partying, they did together. (Rumor had it that they even fucked together, only bringing a lucky girl or guy home when he or she was willing to share.)

“Great to hear that! Thanks for participating in our Roommate Compatibility Survey, you two — although I don’t know what results we were expecting from twins like you… Anyway, have a great one!” As Mr. T.F. exited the room, he allowed himself one last glance back at the Lee twins as they mindlessly bantered. Both of them had certainly gotten their wishes. Joey was exactly like Austin, and Austin was exactly like Joey, and they were certainly each other’s bros — in both senses of the word. Another success for the Roommate Compatibility Program.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind Mr. T.F., the Lee twins promptly forgot he had ever existed, returning to their existences as paragons of young Asian American masculinity.

“So, what’s the plan for today, bro?” Austin said. “Hit the gym, then hit the streets?”

Joey smirked, admiring himself and his twin in the mirror. “You know me so well, bro!”

[scarfacemarston]

Teacher!Natasha x Teacher!Reader Oneshot

For Lesbian Visibility Week! If you enjoyed this, please note and reblog! Feel free to send other prompts or requests! Prompt: The students come into your classroom complaining about Natasha as a teacher not knowing you're her wife. This is version 1. You sighed as you glanced at the digital clock on your computer. Damn. Your planning period was almost over, and you really needed to finish grading these essays. Soon, you would be back to teaching your high school history classes for the day. The period ended far too quickly as students began to file their way into the classroom, discussing this and that. You were so engrossed in your work that you were hardly paying attention until you heard “Ms. Romanoff” mentioned not once, not twice, but in a string of sentences. Oh boy. Ms. Romanoff was one of the more controversial teachers at the school known for her no-nonsense attitude, sternness and sarcasm , but she was also fair with a dry sense of humor. “Why did I take international politics as an elective? Oh, that’s right, I thought it would look good on my transcript!” One student said sarcastically. “She’s so nitpicky! I got an A-. AN A MINUS!” “Hers is the only class I don’t fall asleep in anymore. Not since….last time.” “She’s so strict even the Macklin brothers shut up.” “She’s terrifying. I heard she used to be an undercover agent in the CIA”. You smirked at that one. You should probably look into that rumor. “A spy? Shut-up, man. Who’s going to believe that?” “I heard she was a failed actress.” “I heard she voiced the Russian Siri.” “I heard she’s a rich heiress that lost all her cash.” “Look, guys, I don’t care. She just ripped our class to shreds.I just can’t right now. Nearly the entire class failed her last test. These test corrections are going to take all night.” “At least you’re allowed test corrections! We’re her AP class and the only way we can make up points is through a new essay.” “She’s scary. I swear” “I think she knows what I’m thinking and then that makes me think more and then she thinks what I’m thinking and that thinking makes my head hurt.” “I was ONE minute late to class and she gave me a late slip!” “One time my grandma called me in class, and she made me pick it up.” You shot a quick text to Natasha before the bell rang. Her classroom was two doors down from yours since you two were technically in the same department. Time to log off your grading program and begin class. You pulled out the binder with today’s lesson plans ready to begin. “Wow, you all are full of comments about Ms Romanoff today.” You said neutrally. “Miss Y/N, you don’t understand. She’s so ….uh, extra.” You withheld a smirk. Natasha wasn’t what you would call extra, but she was set in her ways.” “I don’t think she’s extra. I think she just has high standards.” You responded. One of the students rolled their eyes.

"Do you all talk about me like this when I'm not here?"

"Nooo Ms. Y/N, we would never!"

"Well, maybe you could extend the same courtesy to my wife next time," you said, withholding a laugh. The room fell silent. A pin could have dropped.

“Fuck” you heard someone say under their breath. “Language”, you chastised, but you couldn’t say you blamed them. You saw the students in various forms of awkward shuffling, a cough here or there or “Ummm” or “Uhh” as students tried to form sentences. “Wait, you’re married?” a student questioned before being glared at by the others. Your fourth period class was near silent for the rest of the period, with the students seemingly still in shock. One minute til the bell rang. You saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of your eye. Thirty seconds. Natasha knocked on the door. “Hey, you, we’re all ordering from Robert’s Deli for lunch. You want your usual or will you finally try something new?” Natasha teased. The class whipped their heads collectively towards the door. It was becoming harder not to laugh. Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on, Y/n?” “Oh, you’re scaring my class, dear!” You said, smiling widely. Natasha scoffed. “Dear, huh? Oh, so they found out, didn’t they? As if us entering the building together and leaving together in the same car wasn’t hint enough that we’re married.  Yeah, I might have scared a few of them. It was well deserved, trust me, Isn’t that right, Reynolds?” Jason Reynolds sank down into his seat, not meeting Natasha’s eyes. The bell rang. The students couldn’t scramble enough as they grabbed their bags and rushed past Natasha. You gave a small laugh as you finally met Natasha. “You’re a mean woman, you know that?” “Hey, you texted me, babe.” “It was great, not gonna lie. Sorry the “secret” is out.” “It’s not like we’re closeted, we’re simply professional. I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner….or maybe I’m not.” Natasha muttered. Your stomach growled. “Alright, I’ll look up the menu. Find something new to try for once. Promise.” You said in response to your stomach. Natasha nodded. “Don’t want you to scare the next class because you’re hungry.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End

[hannie-dul-set]

the ethics of belief — [p.sh].

SYNOPSIS. you’ve been noticing some signs that park sunghoon seems to have a problem with you, and you’re resolute to getting a straight confirmation or denial from him rather than taking the signs as they are and believing in the worst. it’s less troublesome that way. you’d much rather believe what he’d say than spend the remaining two and half-years mulling over something that doesn’t even matter. 

meanwhile, park sunghoon also harbors his own unvoiced beliefs about you and your person. the issue arises when that belief starts to fester under the seams of certainty and doubt— a firm credence denied from the opportunity of validation. 

and that’s when the belief of oneself usually starts to fall apart.

PAIRING. park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. college! au, classmates! au, strangers to one-sided enemies/academic rivals to friends to lovers to exes to [redacted], romance, angst, hurt/comfort, humor, drama, inspired by my nth reread of the manhwa “cheese in the trap.”  WARNINGS. swearing, an initial unhealthy dynamic that gets better with time, misogyny, daddy issues LMAO, dishonesty, ulterior motives HUAHA, self-sabotage, talks of insecurities, so much academic dumps and word vomits, the mc’s are political science students that enough deserves a warning, more tba. WORD COUNT. est. 15-20k. preview 2.5k.

TAGLIST. i will be completely transparent and say that i may or may not even get to finish this HAHAHAH nevertheless, if you’re interested, just shoot an ask/dm/reply!

NOTE. i am.....up to something yet again HHAHAHHAHA. was really inspired to write something like this after rereading cheese in the trap!!! it took me while to decide which kpop boy i should subject to my whims this time, and idk why i even bothered mulling it over when hoon was literally the perfect fit for this perfectionist, passionate, paranoid male lead 😔😔. quite different tone than the fics i usually write (quarter life crisis time). anyhow, i hope this piques your interest! enjoy!

preview under the cut.

“YOU’RE SITTING ON THE COUCH, WHEN YOU HEAR A KNOCK. The police have arrived to arrest your spouse— for murder. This accusation comes as a total shock, but their fingerprints were found on the murder weapon. Your spouse insists they’re innocent. Should you believe your spouse, even though the evidence against them looks damning? This, class, is a classic example of an ethical dilemma.”

There is a guy from your major that you’ve recently come to notice.

“Discussed by Alex Worsnip, this question covers the ethics of belief through various lenses, including evidentialism and pragmatism—”

Well. It’s not as if you’ve never noticed him before.

“It was W.K. Clifford who coined the term the ethics of belief in his 1876 book under the same name. He forwarded the evidentialist view of belief in determining the correct, or moral, way of viewing a situation or problem— that is, by believing things based on the evidence at hand. However, this is not the only perspective we can use to anchor our respective belief systems.”

It’s just that for the past two months you’ve known him, you’ve noticed that his behavior around you has been quite…odd, in comparison to the rest of your peers.

“Now, let us go back to the problem I’ve presented earlier. Hmm. Let’s see the attendance list—”

He was the first person you were introduced to during the pre-academic-year-get-together when you came back after spending the previous semester in a government sponsored exchange program to the U.S. In fact, it was very hard not to notice him, considering that the moment you arrived at the event— late, because you had to spend the entire day unpacking your studio the hours prior— he was a new face surrounded by a notable amount of people from your year.

And your first impression of him was simple.

“—is Park Sunghoon present?

(“This is Sunghoon! Park Sunghoon! C’mon, say hi!”

A tall, good-looking, well-off, popular guy who apparently also has a great personality. Sim Jaehyun’s introduction of Park Sunghoon seems to have maxed out on adjectives. He apparently also transferred to this program— Bachelor of Arts in Political Science— at the same time you left for your exchange program. He, after one once-over amidst the crowded scene, is someone you’ve concluded that you’re better off simply retaining as an acquaintance and a classmate because of the very adjectives Jaeyun described him with.

Popular, after only a semester of being here. Carries with him a crowd of people. That’s far too troublesome for you to voluntarily deal with.

So, for your own benefit, the smart decision is simply to never go further beyond being on polite terms with Park Sunghoon.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Ah. Yes, hi.”

“Now, don’t be awkward! Everyone already knows each other except for the both of you. You two should put in the effort to get closer.”

There’s a slight lag to Park Sunghoon’s smile. You smile back, scanning the rented venue for Kim Yeondu— closest friend since first semester and is trying to recruit you into the Strava cult— else you’d be a few minutes, few tequila shots too late from saving her from embarrassing herself on the first unofficial day of the semester. Nam Deokhwan seems to have already gotten the ball rolling and passing around drinks. Choi Nari is yelling at you three to come join for a group photo.

An exhale from you, you tighten your smile and flicker your gaze back to your new acquaintance, who looks like he’s also ready to get this awkward introduction over with. Jaeyun is the only soul in this three-person liminal space that’s even somewhat enthusiastic. 

At last, Park Sunghoon extends out a hand for a shake. “Let’s get along,” he says.

“Sure,” you politely reply.)

“Present, sir.”

Your eyes trail off from your notes, all the way to the other side of the lecture hall, several seats away from you to look at the only individual standing amidst the sea of seated students. “Your spouse has been accused of murder with damning evidence.” Prof Yoon flickers the slide back to the previous one, the question printed on the projector screen. “Should you believe them or not?”

There’s a polite smile on his face— an easygoing yet comfortable air. His posture is as straight as it can get. His profile is something artists would want to transfer onto canvas. “I would believe the evidence presented against my spouse’s testimony, Professor Yoon.”

You click the end of your pen, pointing the inked tip towards the paper with a hum.

“Care to expound?”

Sitting next to you in the hall is Yeondu, who has her eyes locked straight onto Park Sunghoon as he begins his answer. “The phrasing of ‘should you believe’ them rather than would implies a moral obligation of belief. In this scenario, what I’d want to believe does not matter. Even if my spouse had been, for example, loving and kind throughout the course of our relationship, the existence of police-discovered evidence that they had committed the crime of murder would overpower any emotionally-driven feelings of belief that I’d have.” You hear her sigh a little. Dreamily even, with her elbows propped up on the table and palms cupping her cheeks. “Evidence points us towards the direction of the truth, therefore there is no question but to believe in it.”

“Jesus, I have not registered a single word he said, but fuck, he sure sounds hot as hell when he talks smart.”

You laugh a little. You’re not one to deny that Park Sunghoon is indeed smart, handsome, and has the voice of an angel. But none of those are the sources of his difference in his behavior towards you. At least, you don’t think it is.

“Very good, Sunghoon. Your take is a clear evidentialist perspective towards the dilemma.”

A prompt from your professor, Park Sunghoon nods and returns to his seat, eliciting some murmurs from everyone else around. You set down your pen. You straighten your back.

“I’d like to hear if anyone has a different answer.”

You raise a hand.

“Yes?”

All eyes are on you—

“Thank you, sir. While the evidentialist point of view might seem the most rational, I’d like to argue otherwise.” 

—including Park Sunghoon’s

“I do not disagree with the moral burden of who I should believe. And in this case, I should believe my spouse. Not because of love or the fact that we are in a relationship. Regardless of the individual, the principle that everyone is presumed to be innocent until proven guilty beyond rest still stands.” You begin. You direct your attention towards Professor Yoon as you continue speaking. However, your peripheral notices something interesting. “Given that the situation is provided that the evidence is simply presented in testimony by a police officer outside the court, it is still yet to be verified and judged by the court of law. The same goes with my spouse. Therefore, until the law declares them guilty or otherwise for the crime of murder, I would choose to believe my spouse over anything.”

Park Sunghoon had been preparing to raise his hand. And he does. “May I ask her a question?” he asks. Professor Yoon nods at him to go ahead, and— when Park Sunghoon turns his head to direct his attention towards you— it fails to slip under your notice.

That annoyed look in his eyes. Bothered. Discomforted.

“Do you argue that we have the ability to choose what we believe?”

That’s the very reason why you can’t help but notice him more than you’d like.

“We have no control over the beliefs we carry. If we have that ability, then the concept of doubt would not exist, and this dilemma would not exist, either.”

Another round of murmurs arise. You nod and smile. “That’s a good point. However, I still stand with my argument.” What is up with that look of irritation? What is his problem? “We may not be able to control our beliefs at will, but our belief systems are shaped by our principles, morals, and experiences, are they not? My principles of justice alongside the experiences of a healthy and loving relationship would lead me towards believing him above anything else. This is not an argument based on emotion. Upon marriage, a moral obligation towards your spouse is conceived.”

You see him flinch. His brows furrow, a counter-argument already brewing in his mind.

“Should the time come that your spouse is indeed proven innocent, and your belief stood against them, then I’d say that you have failed your moral obligation.”

Unfortunately, the opportunity to fire it is stripped away the moment he opens his mouth. “That is a very good argument. I believe Mr Park Sunghoon has more to say, but unfortunately, we don’t have enough time to discuss things further. You two may take your seats.”

It seems like both you and Park Sunghoon get the similar idea to give each other one last glance before sitting back down. You, offering a smile and a nod of acknowledgement after sharing a fruitful discussion. Him, masking that previous expression of annoyance by mirroring yours, followed by an immediate turn around— head snapping back in front as if he couldn’t bear to look at you any longer.

Seriously. What’s up with him?

Yeondu scratches something onto your abandoned sheet of paper the moment you release a breath and sink back into your seat. Whoa, that was an intense exchange, she wrote. Pay attention, you scribble back with a soft hum. Though, you’re not exactly one to talk because although you’re looking at Professor Yoon and trying your best to listen to her talk, the recently concluded exchange with the man in front has gotten your mind wandering.

“As much as I’d like to hear discussions of other common ethical dilemmas such as the trolley problem, it seems like we only have around five minutes left for today’s class. However, this isn’t our only opportunity for discourse.”

All evidence points towards the idea that Park Sunghoon has a problem with you.

“Next week is the College Field Day, so we won’t be meeting. The week after that, we will be having a debate.”

But you’re not one to jump to conclusions. So until you get a confirmation from Park Sunghoon personally—

“Please see the screen for your groups. I will be posting the guidelines and propositions on our MIS immediately after this class, so please be guided. Once you’ve checked your groups, you may be dismissed. Thank you.”

—you’d much rather hold your suspicions at bay for the time being.

“Ah, fuck me, I’m with Deokhwan! What about you, where’s your— oh! There you are. You’re grouped with Jaeyun and—” It seems like there’s a magnet constantly pulling your vision towards one side of the lecture hall today. Park Sunghoon seems to have read the list at the same time as you did, registered the names listed, and looked over to you at the same time as you did. “Sunghoon! God damn, did Prof Yoon even randomize this? This is crazy. Thank god we’re not fighting against your group.”

At the same time as Professor Yoon takes her leave, the rest of your classmates also slowly trickle out of the lecture hall, while some have opted to remain inside. Park Sunghoon and the rest of the people surrounding him seem to have opted to leave. He already has his bag slung over his shoulder, chatting alongside Jaeyun and Nari and Jongseong and a few others.

You’re still unsure if you’re simply being sensitive, or if he does indeed have an issue with you. Quickly, you gather your things as well. Yeondu shoves her ethics book into her tote bag and locks arms with you. “Anyway, where should we eat? Jiyeon said there’s pork cutlet on the menu today.”

Uncertainties are troublesome. It gets your brain churning more often than you’d like, expending energy more inefficiently than you’d like.

“Do you mind waiting for a second?”

And you’re not very fond of troublesome things.

“I’ll go meet with my group mates first.”

So wouldn’t it make the most sense to just ask him directly?

Yeondu tells you to take it easy, but lets you off with a wave. You march up to the group moving towards the middle aisle dividing two sides of the lecture hall seating. They walk down the pitched flooring, on the way to the bottom of the hall. You cut off that opening. Park Sunghoon’s steps stutter mid-speech at your sudden appearance. Jaeyun releases a surprised whoa. “Park Sunghoon,” you greet. He blinks his widened eyes in response. “Jaeyun, too. Sorry for the interruption. Are you guys heading out for lunch? I was hoping to schedule a meeting time for us first so we could start researching for the debate.”

The initial surprise subsides in the air. Jaeyun breaks the awkward silence with a laugh. “Whoa. You’re way too diligent, dude! Prof Yoon hasn’t even posted the propositions yet.” He nudges his friend for some backup. However, Sunghoon— seeming to only have shaken off his stupor a few moments ago— agrees with you, instead.

“She’s right, Jake,” he says, nudging back his friend, and Park Sunghoon’s eyes trail away from his friend to you, a practiced, polite smile covering his face. “How about we meet later after class at the campus cafe? That way, we’d have more time to sit down for a discussion.”

“Hey, you guys can talk this out later! I’m starving!”

You notice Sunghoon’s smile stiffening for a second. Only for a brief second and you look over to the scene behind his shoulder— a group of evidently impatient and irritated friends, mostly emanating from Nari, who’s leering right at you. You ignore them. You respond to Sunghoon with an expression mirroring his own. “Sure, that’s fine with me,” you say. “My classes end at four.”

“We both finish by four-thirty!” Jayun shutters in, throwing an arm around Sunghoon’s neck, grinning widely with the conversation finally coming to an end. His gaze is already glued to the door. “Alright, we’ll see you later. C’mon, guys. Lunch, lunch, lunch!”

Jaeyun passes you by with a friendly pat on the shoulder. Jongseong nods at you and walks ahead. Among the rest of the group walking past you, you feel one of them bumping into your shoulder, by accident or otherwise, yet even that falls far under your notice in comparison to the first person that passed you by.

It was from the corner of your eye, but you’re sure that Park Sunghoon’s smile disappeared with the roll of his eyes the moment he took the step down and walked past your sight-line.

You caught that. Without a doubt.

“You done? C’mon, let’s go eat!”

Yeondu skips over to you after your mini-meeting, tugging you by the arm out the door, but your mind remains on the two levels of the lecture floor aisle. In spite of the evidence pointing towards Park Sunghoon’s masked distaste towards your person, your personality, your existence— whatever, it’s not the time to ask him about it yet.

Until then, you’ll have to table your judgements and how you intend on dealing with him.

the ethics of belief. © hannie-dul-set, 2025.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 14: The Raw Moments

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: deadlines are getting close

Welcome to the chapter 14 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

It was a Friday afternoon when Coach Geno pulled Paige and me aside during practice. The usual buzz of sneaker squeaks and bouncing balls faded as he looked between us, his face serious but not unkind. The team had wrapped up their drills for the day, and the only sound now was the distant hum of the locker room.

"Alright, you two," Coach began, clearing his throat. "We've all seen the way you've been handling your relationship—on and off the court."

Paige and I exchanged a quick glance, tension creeping up my spine. We’d been trying to find our rhythm, but with the added pressure of being in a relationship while still playing for one of the top programs in the country, it hadn’t always been easy.

Coach continued. "I know there’s been a lot of attention on you both, but I’m not here to lecture. What I want to know is if you're solid. Are you working together, in all aspects, as a team? Can you keep it together both on and off the court?"

My heart pounded in my chest. This wasn’t a question I expected, not from Coach Geno. He had a reputation for being tough, but he cared about the team more than anyone.

"Coach," Paige spoke up, her voice steady but with a flicker of concern. "We’re solid. We’ve had our moments, but we’re figuring it out."

I nodded quickly, my nerves catching up with me. "Yeah, we’re good. We’re definitely good."

Coach didn’t seem entirely convinced, but his eyes softened. "Alright, good. You two are important to this team. But remember, balancing your personal life and basketball is key. Don’t let one fall apart because of the other."

"Understood, Coach," Paige said with a slight grin, her usual confidence returning.

I couldn’t help but breathe a little easier as Coach turned back toward the court.

As the weeks went on, Paige and I settled into our relationship more comfortably. Our bond strengthened not just in private, but in public too. We started to film TikToks together—goofy dances, behind-the-scenes footage from games, and candid moments where we weren’t playing the role of the perfect athlete and photographer, but two people just enjoying each other’s company.

Soon, the rest of the team joined in, and what began as a way for Paige and me to spend time together turned into something bigger. Kk became our unofficial child in the eyes of the fans, mostly because of her playful commentary whenever she appeared on our TikTok. People joked that Paige, at 23, and I, at 21, were the "parents" while Kk, at 19, was our sassy teen daughter. The comments flooded in, and the fans ate it up.

One night, after a particularly intense game against one of our biggest rivals, I sat in the team’s common area, editing the play-back footage for the team's film recap. I had been working on my final project for weeks, but I still felt like something was missing—something more personal, something raw that could truly show the essence of this team. That’s when the idea hit me.

"Paige," I called, her laugh ringing out as she exited the locker room. "I think I know what we need for my project."

She raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "What’s that?"

"I want to capture the rawness—the moments where we’re not just teammates, but friends. The moments that don't make the highlight reel, you know?" I explained, spinning around in my chair. "So I’m going to get disposable cameras and digital ones for the team to use."

Paige’s face lit up with excitement. "That’s actually such a good idea."

"I want everyone to take two days with the digital cameras and capture whatever stands out to them," I continued. "The disposable ones, they’re just for whatever happens until the film runs out. I want them to leave personal messages, too—on the digital cameras."

The next day, I handed out the cameras to the team before practice. They all seemed a little confused at first, but they quickly understood the concept when I explained it.

"Alright, guys, listen up," I said, trying to suppress my smile. "These are for your personal moments. Capture the silly stuff, the quiet moments, the ones you want to remember. Don’t try to make it perfect—just be yourselves."

Ashlynn raised her hand. "Can we take selfies?"

I laughed. "Absolutely. Take all the selfies you want."

The team scattered, taking their assigned cameras and heading off to get some shots. I watched as Kk snapped a picture of Morgan and Sarah laughing over a game of cards, and Azzi caught a candid moment of Paige stretching before practice. Everyone had their own unique take on the task, and it was exactly what I had hoped for.

The next couple of days were filled with moments of pure joy and rawness. I spent hours on end going through the photos, picking out the ones that captured the heart of the team. There were pictures of Kk making faces at the camera, Aubrey holdings up a fist pump after scoring a basket in practice, and Azzi capturing Paige’s wild, carefree energy as she danced between drills.

But the most memorable shots were the ones taken of Paige and me. There were close-ups of us laughing over lunch, an accidental shot of our hands brushing while we walked to practice, and a picture of us sitting in the bleachers during a team meeting.

The Digital Messages

After the second round of digital camera shots, I set aside some time for everyone to leave personal messages. Paige went first. I watched as she smiled softly at the camera, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Y/N, I’m glad we’re doing this. You’ve been such a big part of this team, but you’re also a big part of my life. I can’t wait to see where we go from here."

I grinned, feeling my heart swell at her words.

Azzi, who was sitting next to Paige, smirked at the camera. "Look, you two are adorable, but if you break up, I’m taking Y/N as my new best friend. Got it?"

I rolled my eyes, laughing. "Noted, Azzi."

As the team wrapped up with the cameras, I sat with Paige on the bench, going through the footage one last time. She leaned her head on my shoulder, and for a moment, everything felt so peaceful.

"I can’t believe how well this turned out," I said, looking up at her. "I think it’s going to be exactly what I need for my project."

Paige smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "It’s perfect. Just like us."

A few days later, I sent out a teaser clip to my followers, showing behind-the-scenes footage of the team. Fans were blown away by the rawness of the moments—the way the team connected on and off the court, the way Paige and I clearly supported each other both as teammates and something more. The comments flooded in, some asking about our relationship, some calling us the power couple of UConn basketball.

Kk jokingly posted a video of herself and Ice, holding up a sign that read: "Official UConn Parent's Day—Paige, Y/N, and our unofficial child, Kk." Fans loved it, and our relationship became even more public. The next time we went live, the fans were ecstatic, sending us messages asking about everything from our favorite snacks to how we manage time together while balancing our crazy schedules.

This project had turned into something much bigger than I ever anticipated. And for the first time in a while, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be—with Paige, with the team, and with the love we shared.

It was raw, it was messy, but it was real. And that was exactly what I needed.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 ,.... (more to be added)

[burekforsatoru]

are you still watching?

sebastian (stardew valley)/f!reader | read it on ao3 sebastian suggests a movie night to unwind after a long week... slutty froggy pjs shenanigans ensue wc: 2.5k tags: fluff and smut, oral, face-fucking, overstim

fall never stops making sure i have the least amount of free time possible. it is ruthless, with storms and ruined crops, with all the days my poor animals cannot go outside.

it’s exhausting, fixing all of those messes, but i refuse to let sebastian throw himself into it with me. he’s got enough on his plate with the game he’s developing, still doing his freelance programming. he offers, of course, it wouldn’t be him if he didn’t itch to help me when he sees me all exhausted and muddy after a stressful day.

so when he suggests we have a movie night, just us two, one friday evening instead of going to the saloon–i jump on the opportunity. that morning as soon as those words left his mouth i was melting into his embrace. careful, froggy, you’ll spill coffee all over yourself , he chuckles as i quickly steady my hand, placing the mug carefully on the side and wrap my arms around his pale neck. the kiss is so warm, soft, full of understanding. i fix my beanie and finish the coffee before heading out to work, now with a bounce in my step.

the fields are a mess. weeds have taken over some of my pumpkins, making me curse the shit out of them as i carefully remove them, spending hours on my knees in the mud. once it gets dark, i run back inside, barely escaping the rain that starts chasing me. i murmur a grumpy greeting to sebastian, who was already in his pyjamas and on the couch, setting up a movie for us to watch. the blankets are carefully arranged around him, uncovering the very spot on his body where i usually slide onto his lap to cuddle while we relax before sleep.

i hurry into the bathroom, shouting i’ll only be a few minutes, i really need a hot shower. he responds with his signature chuckle, having already found a movie for us to ignore while we make out or fall asleep.

the shower relaxes my muscles, soothes my skin, washes out all the dirt from my hair and face. i walk out a new person, fresh and clean and ready to sink into our soft couch, wrapped into a cocoon of blankets. a new person – that forgot her clean underwear and pyjamas in the bedroom.

okay so maybe not completely new. still the same scatterbrained me that sebastian always promises he fell in love with so ridiculously hard and fast it’s a miracle his bones aren’t still broken.

so, with my fresh and clean body wrapped in a bath towel, i pad my way to the bedroom, passing between the tv and sebastian where he’s still sitting in the very same position on the couch, the blankets uncovering my seat. those silly frog pyjamas on, slightly pushed down as his hand is placed around his hard cock that he’s gently stroking. i walk into the bedroom and–

oh …

with a slightly embarrassed expression, i retrace my steps until i’m closer to him.

“baby…” i drawl, my eyes falling down to where his thumb slowly rubs over his cock head, so sweetly like he’s caressing a lover.

“yes, froggy?” oh there’s a layer of smugness in that voice. he knows what he’s doing to me, sees my throat bobbing while i swallow saliva gathering at an alarming rate.

“baby why… you’re not even waiting for me?” reluctantly, i lift my gaze to meet his pretty eyes, noticing the self-satisfied smirk as he watches me struggle.

my hand grips the edges of the towel tighter, holding on for dear life as i try not to immediately look down at his cock again, that pretty, girthy thing just begging to be kissed.

“i’ve been sitting like this since before you walked back in, pretty. you just didn’t notice me.” that thumb rubbing over his tip slides back down and he keeps stroking himself up and down. my heartbeat quickens, the air becomes thicker, my mouth is suddenly too empty. all i can think about right now is licking a long strip along his shaft and making him moan out loud. “c’mere,” he pats his lap, the pattern of cartoon frogs on the fabric covering his thighs almost making the situation comical, if it weren’t for his deliciously spread thighs and the outline of his balls under the bunched up material under his cock.

it takes me a couple of seconds to remember how to move my feet. walking is harder now than it was just a minute ago when i took quick, fleeting steps towards our bedroom.

i leave slightly damp footprints, my skin is still wet from the shower, but i drop the towel that was keeping me covered up as soon as i reach his legs. the fluffy blue fabric pools on the floor and i sink to my knees. his hand doesn’t slow down its movements on his pretty cock, but i boldly lean in and lick a slow stripe to his tip, feeling him twitch ever so slightly on my tongue.

the taste of his skin lingers on the tip of my tongue as he pulls his cock up a little, allowing me to grab the bunched up fabric and pull down those pyjama bottoms, freeing his balls that i quickly take into my warm mouth, one by one. his knee bounces then, at the same time as the back of his head meets the back of the couch.

sebastian lets out a pretty moan as i gently suck on one testicle while holding the other in my hand, tenderly caressing it while keeping my eyes on his bobbing throat. letting out a little hum i snap his attention back to me. back to how my tongue swirls over him. he releases his cock, letting me take over. carefully, lovingly, i hold it in the same way he did, leaning forward a little to press a gentle kiss to the head before sliding it between my lips, inside the warmth that is my mouth, a wet pretty hole for him to savor the feeling of.

“fuuuuck, you’re gonna be good for me, yeah?” i look up at him as he speaks, my eyes wide and doe-like, the way i know drives him insane.

i briefly nod, of course i’ll be good for him , and sink him deeper into my warm mouth, down to my limit. his hips buck upwards a little, having me nearly swallow him whole. obediently, i remove my hand from his shaft and place both my palms onto his thighs.

i take one more breath before his hands caress my wet hair, holding onto it firmly with those long, slender fingers.

“ready?” his voice is ragged already, the need is practically dripping from his every word. i nod in reply, letting him take the lead.

my throat relaxes just in time, for he starts moving me along his cock, using my sweet mouth as a toy while my lips close around his girth.

drool collects at the corners of my lips, and he keeps going, slipping curses and praises alike between his bitten lips, telling me just how beautiful he finds me as i’m swallowing his needy cock. sebastian looks as if he’s ascending, like he’s touching heaven through the pearly gates of my teeth.

my eyes stay peeled, watching as his eyelids flutter shut, dragging out long curses while he picks up the pace, now lifting his hips in time with moving my head. the back of my throat is already sore, but i hang on, letting him use me to his full pleasure, giving him my face to fuck whenever he wants it.

“pretty… ah pretty girl… i’m– ohhh i’m gonna cum, okay?”

a pathetic little whimper leaves my lips, pools around the base of his cock as he asks my permission, as always. it’s always a yes, or a little whining noise, always an imperative that i taste his sticky cum on my tongue and drink it like it’s the elixir of life. 

his grip tightens in my hair, the movements of his hips get more erratic as he reaches his peak, spilling his release into my mouth, making my throat constrict as i swallow around his thick cock head. sebastian’s voice is raspy, broken as he exhales, groaning lowly. he twitches while my mouth takes in everything he gives me.

sebastian gently caresses the top of my head, breathing heavily as he comes down from the intense high, lowering his eyes to meet mine as he grins.

“there we go,” his breathless voice comes out soft, loving, “so good for me, so good .”

slowly, i lift my head, letting his pink tip pop out from my pouty lips with a soft sound. it’s all slick with my saliva, shining under the lights of our living room. i press a gentle kiss to it, smirking as he twitches and gasps from such soft contact.

my towel stays on the floor as sebastian pulls me up into his lap. my legs slot beside him, straddling his bare hips as i lean down to kiss him. it’s impossible to stifle the giggle that leaves me when he smacks my ass, jiggling the flesh with his strong palm. he helps me, lifting my hips to let me sit on his pretty cock, still hard as he enters me, making me throw my head back and groan.

he joins me, cursing under his breath as i sink down onto him again, the familiar stretch never getting old. 

“fuuuck, pretty, that’s it,” he drawls, holding me by the waist as i settle, “that’s my good girl. can’t just give you one load, can it?” his head snaps back to look at me as i trail my hands up his torso and under the pyjama top.

“been feeling needy, hmm?” i tease, a smirk painted on my face as he beckons me with a quick motion of his chin.

“you’ve no idea, froggy… i nearly started without you.” with that confession he reaches my lips, capturing them in a hard kiss as his hips buck upwards into me. 

i whine, rolling my hips against sebastian’s as his hands grip me tighter, pulling me against him harder and rougher than before. needily, he wraps those arms around me, bringing me closer and fucking into me faster. he pulls moan after moan from my throat, letting me breathe only to bite delicious bruises into my collar bones.

my breasts bounce against him, grazing his skin with my nipples with each hard thrust of his sweet tip against my soft walls. it’s almost unfair how quickly he has me unraveling, shaking, and stuttering right here on his lap as he relentlessly moves.

“ ah– fuck, i’m gonna–” i attempt, gasping as he bruises me, leaning lower to take my nipple into his mouth and hum around it. 

“ mmm come on, pretty, i’ve got you.” he murmurs, vibrating my sensitive nub and sending me over the line. my warm walls contract, i shake and i whimper as he moans, switching to the other breast, biting the plump flesh and continuing his quick thrusts. “good girl, there we go,” he releases my breast from his mouth, kissing where he bit earlier, “you can give me another, yeah? one more… just one more.” sebastian doesn’t wait for me to come down from my high, he pulls me down against him more desperately, so wanting as my weeping cunt swallows him over and over as he grunts into my chest. 

relentlessly, he pulls me by the hips faster, overstimulating me to high heavens as his cock prods at my sweet spots with every move. yoba, i always forget how good it feels, no matter how many times we do this. especially when he gets like this, insanely horny like we haven't fucked in a month.

i don't know whether to curse or praise his high sex drive when he flips me over onto my back, immediately climbing over me to push my knees almost up to my chest. 

the cushion seams of the couch dig into my back, but i can't pay attention to them, to anything that isn't sebastian. like in a daze, he leans over me and kisses me tenderly while pushing his thick cock into me again. different angle, getting so much deeper as he kneels on the couch. i moan directly into his mouth and the sound almost invigorates him.

he thrusts into me with the energy of a hundred shots of espresso, desperate to feel my warm, soft walls close up around him, tightening like a vice to keep him inside and drain him of all his pent up energy. 

the lewd sound gets louder with each passing second, skin against skin, his balls against the plump flesh of my ass. it’s so loud, so hypnotizing, rhythmic beat paired with heavy breaths from sebastian’s lips and whiny curses falling from my mouth.

already getting overstimulated, having been pushed into the next high from the first one, i’m whimpering under his touch. he presses his fingertips into my skin, leaving little indents as he holds on for dear life, anchoring himself in me as if he’s not actively punishing my sweet spot with his relentless cock head. 

eyes rolling back, head dipping into the pillow, i shake. gripping his arms pressed into the cushions beside my head, i squirm, my whines get higher in pitch as he curses, leaning in to drag his sweet lips against mine.

“fuck… fuck , pretty i’m gonna– you gonna cum with me?” his syrupy voice drips onto my tongue as i moan, grabbing at his back to pull him closer, pressing him against the backs of my thighs as his hips falter.

a few more rough thrusts against my soaked pussy and he’s done, groaning when my cunt pulls him in, keeps him inside where he’s warm and welcome. holding him tightly to ensure every drop of his release is contained inside me, where it should be. 

our breaths soften, heartbeats slow down, our foreheads connect. his lips start looking for mine, desperate for tender kisses while i lower my shaking legs, feet finally finding purchase around his waist. i hold him close, gently, carefully. sebastian melts on top of me, finally spent as his energy fizzles out.

“longest… week… ever…” he mumbles, lazily kissing me as my legs keep him still, keep him inside me warm and snug.

“never going a week without sex again…” i agree, weakly returning kiss after kiss, gliding my foot over his hips, down to his mid-thighs where his sloppily pulled down froggy pyjama bottoms sit. 

the screen changes and i catch it from the corner of my eye. we’ve completely ignored the film sebastian put on earlier and now the screen is darkened with a passive aggressive message in the center, are you still watching?

sebastian snorts, turning his head away from the screen and resting against me.

“i ain’t watching shit unless it’s my wife’s tits bouncing, thanks, nutflix.” he murmurs, a smug half-smile stretching his lips as he checks for my reaction.

“you need sleep,” i giggle weakly, feeling his weight on my chest, “you’re talking nonsense again.”

“shhhh,” his finger finds its way to my lips, resting on them as his breathing slows, “love you too, froggy.”

i chuckle, resting my eyes as we settle down. “love you baby.”

♡ if you enjoyed this, consider leaving a like, reblog, or a comment. interaction helps keep your writers motivated! also if you don't agree with any aspect of this that's okay, this is just my opinion and it's hella self-indulgent!

[captainsophiestark]

Picture Perfect

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Benedict's childhood best friend, who he's recently started courting, notices he's been a bit off lately and decides to see if there's anything she can do to help.

Word Count: 3,045

Category: Fluff, a little bit of Angst

A/N: It's been a minute since I rewatched season 2, so I may have the timing wrong a bit. For the purposes of this fic, though, Benedict finds out that Anthony paid to make sure he got into art school at the same time that they're all at the Bridgerton's country estate.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Something was wrong with my best friend.

I could tell from the minute I saw him, as his mind was clearly somewhere else. He also gave his brother Anthony a colder shoulder than usual, which I knew Anthony likely deserved, but that Benedict rarely gave him. It must've been something pretty bad.

A few years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated to drag Benedict somewhere and get some answers out of him, followed by doing whatever I could to cheer him up. But unfortunately for the both of us, despite having grown up together, now that we were both adults in society and he had recently started courting me, we were no longer technically allowed to be alone together. Things were usually a bit looser when it was just the Bridgertons and I, but while I'd joined them for a trip to their country estate, another family had joined us as well, tying my hands more than usual.

Still, I managed to corner him slightly away from the rest of the group after dinner that night, when I'd first noticed something off. He'd been on his way upstairs, rather than joining the rest of us in the parlor after dinner, and I managed to get in front of him quickly enough to make him stop in the hallway.

"Benedict," I said, trying to keep my voice low. He let out a long, deep sigh, but didn't move to step past me, instead fixing me with a tired stare. I frowned. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "It's... nothing."

I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow.

"Benedict Bridgerton, I have known you since the age of five. There is no chance of that terrible lie convincing me of anything, besides perhaps that I made the right decision about checking on you."

He sighed again, this time even heavier, and when he met my gaze again it was with an empty smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"You remeber I shared my excitement with you about being accepted into art school?"

"Of course! Don't tell me something went wrong..."

He shook his head. "The opposite. Apparently my dear brother took it upon himself to make sure I got in, offering a bribe to secure my acceptance. Yet again, I fail to step out of my family's shadow and generate an accomplishment of my own, without their name and money securing it for me."

I frowned and reached out to touch his arm, but Eloise's voice from the other room promising to find where I'd wandered off to broke the moment. Benedict mustered that hollow smile again, then finally stepped around me.

"I'll be fine, I promise. Don't worry about me. Just go enjoy the rest of your evening."

I frowned after him, but he didn't look back as he climbed the stairs and disappeared onto the second floor. I briefly debated following him, but Eloise's hand on my elbow broke me from that thought.

"Y/N, what on earth are you doing out here? You're missing Kate and Anthony sparring over something trivial again."

I forced a smile onto my face that was hopefully more convincing than Benedict's and turned to face Eloise.

"Well, that's certainly something I don't want to miss. Let's go."

Eloise still looked like she had questions, but I didn't give her room to ask them as I joined the rest of our group in the parlor. Benedict stayed on my mind for the rest of the night, although I tried to hide my worry. Hopefully he'd been right about himself, and would be feeling better in the morning.

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

Benedict clearly wasn't feeling better in the morning. I was witnessing the man I loved having an existential crisis, and by the afternoon, I decided I couldn't sit by an watch anymore, society and the Ton and the gossips be damned.

I spent the next hour gathering and setting up the things I'd need, then went to find Benedict. He wasn't anywhere to be seen in the house, so I asked Eloise, who directed me to his bedroom.

I'd been in his bedroom before, of course, since we'd practically grown up together. But now that we'd started on the path to being something else to each other, with my heart registsering significantly more romantic feelings for the man Benedict had become, I found myself slightly nerovous as I stood outside his door. Still, I forced myself to ignore the nerves as best I could. Benedict was hurting, so everything else had to be put on hold while I helped him.

I knocked on his door, pretending my faster-than-normal heartbeat didn't exist as I waited for a response. That became much harder to accomplish when Benedict opened the door, his shirt far more open than normal and without anything over it, hair looking a rumpled mess. My heart did backflips, despite me mentally telling it to calm down.

"Y/N! I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you. I must look a mess-"

"No, not at all!" I said much too quickly. "You look, uh... very nice."

The familiar lopsided smile I loved so much appeared on Benedict's face as he leaned on the doorframe before me. He raised an eyebrow, the familiar spark of mischief that I loved so dearly igniting in his eyes, and for the first time in more than a day, he looked to be slightly back to himself.

"Well, I'm very glad to hear you think so. What brings you to my door, then?"

"You haven't seemed to be doing very well since you got the news about Anthony. And don't try to deny it, I know you too well. So, I thought I'd come find you and try to help cheer you up."

Benedict's eyebrow rose again as he crossed his arms.

"And what exactly did you have in mind?"

"I'll show you. But we're going to have to be a bit sneaky about leaving."

Benedict's mood lifted the moment he found out we were going to sneak out of the house together. We'd been regular trouble makers as children, sneaking out for adventures at least once a week, but since we'd both grown up that had basically come to a stop. Now, as I took his hand and dragged him along behind me and we ran through the countryside and left Bridgerton House in our wake, I couldn't stop a wild laugh from bubbling out of my chest. I'd missed this much more than I'd wanted to admit.

"Where are we going?" Benedict called, his own voice breathy and laced with laughter as we ran. I just shot him a grin back over my shoulder.

"You'll see!"

He huffed, but didn't protest as he followed after me. Finally, after winding through the woods and climbing a rather steep hill, we reached the spot I'd spent so long making nice this morning.

This hilltop looked out over the countryside stretching beautifully below us, even better now as the sun had started to get a bit lower in the sky. Waiting for us was a picnic blanket spread out in the grass with all of our favorite foods, wine, and an easel with art supplies set up right next to it. I dropped Benedict's hand as we came to a stop, instead turning to face him with a grin.

"Well? What do you think?"

He stared at everything I'd laid out, mouth open slightly in shock. His brow furrowed when he saw the canvas, and he turned back to me.

"What is all this?"

"It's a picnic, for the two of us," I said. "To watch the scenery and the sunset together without the pressures of society or being a Bridgerton to bring us down. The easel is optional–we can pack it away right now if you want to. But you told me you think Anthony's the reason you got into art school, and I don't agree. I've seen your work, and I know just how good it is. You got in on merit, Benedict. But I know I can't just say that and have you believe it, so I brought some supplies here so you can prove it, if you want to. Paint this moment for the two of us, and I'll swear on our relationship and everything I hold dear to be honest about what I think. Completely, totally, brutally honest."

Benedict's eyebrow quirked again.

"Well, I don't know if brutal is completely necessary..."

"I mean it, Ben. I hate to see you like this, doubting yourself. So if there's something I can do to counter Anthony's idiotic meddling, I'd like to."

"And what if..." He cleared his throat, emotion swirling in his gorgeous brown eyes as he met my gaze. "What if the truth would only serve to enforce what I know? That Anthony's meddling and money is the only reason I've gotten where I am."

I shook my head. "That won't happen-"

"Y/N." I stopped, biting my lip and forcing myself to meet Ben's stare again. He took a few steps forward until we were right in front of each other, then took my hands gently in his own. "What if it does?"

I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. "Then I will keep my word and tell you so. One way or another, I will tell you the truth, even if it may not be what I want to tell you. I swear it, Ben."

He nodded slowly, eyes scanning my face. We stayed like that for a few long moments, and briefly, I thought Benedict might make a move to do something I never though he'd do with the Ton hovering over both our shoulders whenever we were together. But then he sighed, a smile returning to his face as he stepped away.

"Alright then. I believe you, and I value your opinion. And since you went to all the trouble to drag these supplies up here in the first place... I may as well get started."

I beamed at him. "I'll pour us some wine."

"Please."

When Benedict first sat down at his canvas, he kept fidgeting nervously, his hands hovering and twitching over various paints and brushes as he second-guessed his decisions. But slowly, as I kept up a stream of conversataion, supplying him with food and drink for fuel as he needed it, I noticed him beginning to relax.

"This is nice," I mused, leaning back on the picnic blanket and looking out at the scenery as Benedict worked. The sun had gotten much lower in the sky than when we'd left, which Benedict had grumbled about as it impacted his painting. Still, the golden light, soft breeze, and warm, fresh air felt like heaven to me.

"I agree," he said, not taking his eyes away from his easel. "I missed running off on adventures with you at the drop of a hat."

"So did I. But, hopefully... we may be able to get back to that again sometime soon."

Benedict looked over at me from his easel, a rougish grin on his face.

"If I didn't know better, Lady Y/L/N, I would think you were boardering on making me a marriage proposal."

I faced forward and closed my eyes under the guise of feeling the sun, trying to ignore my heart pumping frantically in my chest.

"Well. Fortunately for us both, you do know better. And it's not as if you're some strange man I met at court. You're... Ben. My best friend."

"I never said I wouldn't like it, did I? It would be an honor to be proposed to by you."

I cracked one eye open, turning my head to face Benedict with a grin. He wasn't looking at me, his stare focused on his canvas, his face completely serious. My heart stopped threatening to explode out of my chest, and instead settled into the unique, glowing warmth of love I felt whenever Benedict and I were together.

"I love you, Ben," I said, my voice soft and quiet. He stopped his work completely to turn and look at me, a soft smile on his face.

"I love you too. Very, very much." We held each others' stares for a moment, soaking in the comfort and joy of being together, and then Benedict's smile turned into a more edged grin. "It's a good thing we feel so strongly, since we may just be forced into an earlier marriage than planned to avoid a scandal after disappearing for an entire afternoon and evening together."

I huffed and waved him off. "Fortunately, I predict your brother will be accidentally helping us and making up for causing this crisis of confidence in the first place. He and Miss Kate Sharma are so ridiculous and dramatic together, I highly doubt anyone will notice we're gone."

Benedict chuckled, turning back to his work to scan it one last time before finally setting down his paintbrush. He took a deep breath, then stood and offered a hand to me.

"I've finished," he announced as I took his hand. He pulled my to my feet, but instead of looking at the painting, my eyes stayed fixed on him. We were almost chest to chest, and I could tell from his furrowed brows and darting eyes just how nervous he was about my verdict. "Remember, you promised me honesty."

"And honesty you will get."

Finally, I turned from Benedict to the canvas he'd been working on all afternoon. I'd resisted peeking before now at his request, so I wouldn't have any bias from watching his process. Fortunately, just as I'd predicted, his work was magnificent.

"Benedict..." I breathed as I took in the soft lines and vibrant colors before me. It perfectly captured how I felt looking out at the valley before us; it captured the gorgeous scenery, yes, but it also infused everything with a bit of magic that I only felt in this space with him. "This is absolutely incredible."

Benedict came around to stand next to me, arms crossed. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him shaking his head.

"Now please don't forget, you promised me honesty."

"I am being honest! Benedict, this is fantastic. The way you capture the myriad of different shades of the light shining across the valley, the seamless lines giving the world a slightly hazy, dreamlike look, and the way you've left the paint a bit messier with the clouds, to make it look like they're moving? It's all perfect, Ben. And masterful. It's a picture of the valley, yes, but it looks like it's alive. And you somehow managed to capture what it feels like to be here in the moment together, the sun on our faces, with each other even when we're not supposed to be, in a truly special way. You're an incredibly talented artist, and I'd be saying that even if you were a complete stranger that I didn't particularly like."

He snorted, then after a second, wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me to his chest. I leaned into him immediately, sighing a bit as he leaned his head against mine.

"I have a hard time believing you'd say all that to a stranger you didn't like."

I rolled my eyes and elbowed him in the stomach, and he laughed without letting me go. A smile spread on my own face despite myself.

"Alright, maybe I wouldn't say all that to a stranger I didn't like. But I'd say it about their work when they couldn't hear me, probably to you. My point stands, Ben. You are a very skilled and talented artist. Anthony isn't the reason you got into that school. You are."

His chest rose and fell with a long, deep breath, and then finally, I felt him nod.

"Thank you. I can't promise it will always be easy for me to always believe it, but... I'll try to remember your words, and not my brother's, from now on."

"Good. And if you feel down again, you can always come to me. I'll always be there for you, Benedict, whenever you need me."

"And I you, my love," he said, moving down to whisper the words in my ear as he wrapped his other arm around my waist, too. He kissed my cheek, and I leaned back into his chest for a moment before turning around in his arms to face him.

The beautiful, kind smile I'd fallen in love with stared back at me, along with his warm brown eyes. I smiled too, then finally stopped ignoring my racing heart and decided to continue the theme of ignoring the Ton and what they might say.

I leaned into Benedict, closing the distance between us with a glance at his lips before meeting his eyes again. Both of his eyebrows shot up, but he didn't pull away.

"Y/N... if anyone found out..."

I smiled. "They won't. Besides, they'd just make us follow through on something we're already planning, anyway."

Benedict huffed a laugh, his eyelids fluttering a bit as he looked at me like he couldn't believe I was real. Then, his arms tightened around my waist, and he leaned in even closer. I closed my eyes, feeling Benedict stop just a hair's breadth away from my lips.

"Are you sure-"

I closed the distance myself before he could continue. Benedict smiled into the kiss a moment later, pulling me closer to him, the two of us locked in each others' embrace as the sun set in the hills behind us. Truly, I didn't think anyone would be able to find out about how we'd spent our afternoon, but I also truly didn't care. I loved Benedict, and even though it was technically early in our courtship, I'd known him for most of my life. I knew we were meant to spend our lives together, and I knew he felt the same way as I did. Sooner or later, we'd make it official with an engagement and marriage, and be able to disappear together whenever we wanted without the Ton batting an eyelash. But, in the meantime, I didn't mind sneaking away for private moments like this one bit. No matter what had led to it in the first place.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[sunshine-lux]

Clueless (i.)

summary: Y/N and Peter have been friends for a while now. What happens when a new girl gets introduced to the group and fits in perfectly? New friendships are formed, old routines are broken, and one physics assignment threatens to blow up your world.

pairings: Stark!reader x MCU! Peter Parker

word count: 2k

Y/N and Peter. Peter and Y/N. The two teens had been inseparable ever since Tony Stark recruited Spider-Man to fight on his team against Captain America. Tony had enrolled his daughter into Midtown High School for the following school year to “keep an eye out” on the boy. Despite the fact the girl had never attended a regular high school in her life and she had skipped multiple grades in her homeschool program, Tony thought Y/N deserved a sense of normalcy in her life. And that’s exactly what Peter brought to the table. They were good for each other and everybody could see that.

To everyone except themselves.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

Y/N strolled down the hallway, heading toward the cafeteria with her new friend, Gwen. "You got the best schedule. You practically have classes with all my friends! I wish my first year here had been that easy," Y/N pouted. Gwen nudged her, eyes wide with disbelief. "Wait—what? You're telling me Y/N Stark had trouble making friends? My dad’s a cop, and I’m still shocked you’re even talking to me!"

Y/N laughed. "I don't see why that would stop me from being your friend. And trust me, my friends will totally love you! You’ll see right now." She grinned, spotting Peter, Ned, and MJ sitting at their usual table.

Gwen stood hesitantly behind Y/N as she introduced her to the group.

"Guys! This is our new friend, Gwen Stacy! She’s super sweet, so please... behave yourselves."

Gwen sat down next to Y/N, offering a nervous smile to the others.

MJ leaned across the table, hand extended. “Hey, I’m MJ. I guess Y/N’s making us befriend you. You seem sweet… It’s almost like you haven’t been emotionally destroyed by the Saw trap that is Midtown."

The comment sent the two boys into a fit of laughter.

Y/N kicked Ned under the table. "It’s really not that funny, guys." She turned to Gwen with an apologetic smile. "That’s—no. Okay, sorry, they’re just in a silly goofy mood today."

Peter glanced up at the girls, offering a warm smile. "If Y/N likes you, we like you. I trust her judgment... unlike some people," he added, narrowing his eyes at MJ.

"Yeah, of course you do, loverboy," MJ snorted.

Ned’s laughter grew louder, but when he saw the synchronized glares from Y/N and Peter, he finally calmed down, trying to stifle his amusement.

Gwen glanced around the table, her expression slightly puzzled by the entire interaction.

Peter offered her a nervous smile. “Hey, can I see your schedule?”

She nodded, flipping through her binder until she found the slip. Handing it over, she watched as Peter and Ned carefully studied it .

“Oh, nice! We have APUSH together next period!” Ned exclaimed, grinning. “Don’t worry—I’ll help you catch up.”

Peter nodded alongside Ned. “Yeah and it looks like you have Art and Psych with MJ. We have last period together as well.”

At the mention of her name, MJ looked up from her book and snatched Gwen’s schedule from Peter’s hand.

“I guess we do.” MJ sighed, “I can go get you after APUSH. We can walk together to art.”

Gwen visibly relaxed at her comment. She nodded and offered MJ a smile of appreciation. 

Y/N leaned back in her seat, satisfied that Gwen was settling in. Her eyes flicked to Peter — he was already looking at her. He offered her a small, crooked smile. That soft, familiar one that said “we did good” without saying anything at all.

She smiled back before quickly looking down at her tray, cheeks warming.

“So, Gwen,” Ned piped up, “what do you think of Midtown so far?”

“It’s… big,” Gwen laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “And definitely louder than I’m used to. But I think I’m gonna like it here.”

MJ, who hadn’t stopped flipping pages in her book, muttered, “Just wait ‘til Flash asks you to be a guest on his podcast. That’s when you’ll know it’s too late to escape.”

Everyone groaned. Gwen blinked. “He has a podcast?”

“God help us,” Y/N said, shaking her head.

The table fell into an easy rhythm of laughter and teasing — the kind that made newcomers feel like they’d always been there.

The bell rang before any of them even realized lunch was over. They grabbed their stuff, laughter still lingering in the air as they said quick goodbyes and split off of their next class. Peter hung back slightly, waiting for Y/N — like he always did — so he could walk her to class.

“Sooo,” Y/N started, swinging her backpack over one shoulder, “what are your first impressions? Come on, Parker. Be honest.”

Peter glanced at her, then plucked the bag from her shoulder without missing a beat. “I mean… she seems nice, I guess. I don’t really have like a full opinion yet.”

Y/N tilted her head, “Hmm. Alright. I think she’s super sweet. We’re definitely gonna be best friends in no time.”

They reached her classroom, and Peter handed her backpack back with a small smile.

“Thanks— oh, wait!” Y/N called as he turned. She leaned casually against the doorframe. “Almost forgot. We’re still on for tonight, right? My dad said we can order whatever we want.”

Peter grinned. “Of course. I’ll see you after school, Y/N/N.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

After 3 long classes, school was finally over. Y/N stood outside the building, ignoring Happy’s texts that seemed to be blowing up her phone. 

Happy:

“I have places to be, Y/N 🙄”

“Hurry up, kid.”

“Drag Peter to the car if you have to.”

Peter stepped out of the building, eyes scanning the courtyard until they landed on Y/N leaning on the railing, phone in hand. His face lit up instantly. 

“Hey! Sorry for the wait– Mr. Lovatt just assigned us an insane physics project, supposed to be a semester-long. Total nightmare.” Peter says with an apologetic smile.

“Oh yikes,” Y/N cringes, “why is he always giving out the worst assignments?”

Peter groaned, “he prides himself in having an 80% fail rate-”

“Peter! You ready to go?”

The voice cut clean through the moment.

Y/N turned just as Peter froze. Gwen was hurrying over, a thick textbook clutched in her arms.

“Hi Gwen.” Y/N says, giving the girl a sweet smile.

Gwen waves at her then turns to Peter, “Sorry I stayed behind — I had a bunch of questions, and Mr. Lovatt gave me this packet of makeup work. ” She held up the fat stack with a wince. “He said if I want to pass, I’d better start yesterday.”

“Oh wow, yeah that is… a lot of work.” Peter winces.  “We can get right on that after we finish our outline.” 

Y/N raised an eyebrow, “You didn’t tell me you got paired up with Gwen.”

“Oh yeah! Mr. Lovatt said he was doing me a favor by pairing us up. It’s a lot of work so I figured we’d just go to my place and get started. Apparently Peter is the best in the class. Physics is my weakest subject so this works out perfectly!” Gwen rants.

Y/N nods and turns back to Peter. He still wouldn’t look at her.

“So… I take it you’re not coming over? No Love Island tonight?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

Peter glanced at the ground, red creeping up his neck. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “We literally just got the assignment ten minutes ago…”

Gwen looked between them, instantly picking up on the shift in tone. “Oh my god — I didn’t know you guys had plans. We can totally start tomorrow or—”

“What–no! Don't worry about it, okay?” Y/N cuts her off, forcing a small laugh. “School stuff is way more important than…trashy reality TV.”

Gwen looked relieved. “Okay. I just didn’t want to overstep or be, like… rude.”

“You’re not. It’s fine, really,” Y/N said with a wave of her hand.

She turned to Peter one more time, but he still wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“I should go — Happy’s probably about to call in a wellness check,” she joked, pushing off the railing.

“Have fun, Gwen.”

“You too,” Gwen offered. “Nice seeing you.”

Y/N gave Peter one last punch to the arm as she passed. “Later, weirdo.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

Y/N made her way to the parking lot, spotting Happy’s car near the front. Her chest felt strangely tight as her mind replayed the recent interaction. Why was Peter acting so weird about the whole thing? Sure, he had never missed out on Love Island before but he wouldn’t even look at her after Gwen confessed they’d been paired together. Did he really feel so awful for cancelling plans last minute? 

Y/N opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.

“Finally.” Happy grumbled. “Where’s the other one?”

“He’s not coming.” Y/N states, buckling her seat belt.

Happy raised an eyebrow. “He’s missing out on Love Island? Isn’t there a recoupling tonight?”

“Yes. And yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Whatever. I had a long day — I don’t think I could’ve handled him yelling at the screen tonight.”

Happy can tell there’s something wrong but he doesn’t push it. He’s known her long enough to know that she’s not ready to admit she’s upset. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

Later in the evening, Y/N slumped on the couch, a blanket pulled over her lap as the bright pink Love Island intro blared on the TV. 

The show had been reduced to background noise as she scrolled on her phone. Normally, Peter would’ve already shown her memes on his phone relating to the islanders or asked “we’re not voting for Casey, right?”

But tonight, she laid on the couch by herself. No one yelled at the screen when the islanders did dumb things. No one to show her silly memes.

Halfway through the episode, Y/N grabbed the remote and shut off the TV. The silence was deafening. She leaned her head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling.

It’s not a big deal, she told herself.

It wasn’t. It shouldn’t be.

So why did it feel like something had cracked?

Her fingers hovered over her phone screen again. She typed out a text.

hope the project’s going well. good luck :)

She stared at it. Then backspaced every word. Closed her messages.

A voice called from upstairs. “Ms. Stark, your dad wants to see you in the lab.”

She blinked, then groaned, pushing herself up. 

When she stepped into the lab, Tony was scrolling through what looked like seating arrangements on a tablet.

“Hey, kid,” he said without looking up. “I need you next Friday.”

“Why?”

“Oscorp gala. Norman’s hosting. You know the whole ‘Stark presence’ thing. Wear something that says I’m rich but not a bitch.”

Y/N snorted and leaned on the table. “Since when do we do Oscorp events?”

“Since they crawled back to us after their PR disaster with the algae-powered hovercars. Norman’s trying to play nice — and I want you there. No skipping.”

She gave a lazy salute. “Copy that. I’ll find something classy and non-threatening to wear.”

Tony nodded once, still tapping at the screen. Then, casually, “By the way, where’s underoos? Figured he’d be here by now, eating all my snacks and pretending he understands quantum encryption.”

Y/N hesitated just a second too long. “He had a school project. Got paired up with the new girl.”

Tony finally glanced up, sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “Ah. Gwen, right?”

Y/N didn’t respond, just looked past him at the glowing arc reactor on the wall.

“Huh,” Tony said simply, then looked back down at the tablet. “Alright. Don’t start a blood feud with her either. Not unless I can monetize it.”

She snorted. “Damn. There goes my evening plan.”

They lapsed into silence, the hum of the lab equipment filling the space.

After a beat, Tony added, almost offhandedly, “Osborn’s kid’s gonna be there too. Just got back from boarding school or some overpriced European nonsense. He’s around your age. Try to be nice.”

She didn’t say anything. Just nodded once, eyes back on the screen in front of her.

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author's note: this is my first time posting something like this omg guys. this came to me in a dream. i'm still not sure how many part this will be but i have some exciting stuff planned!

im curious as to how yall pictured Gwen lol pls tell me your face claim.

i really hope yall enjoyed!

[natsgrave]

THE PHOTOGRAPHER AND ACTRESS | scarlett johansson

big reputation, you and me, we'd be a big conversation. it's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold. you've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks, so here's the truth from my red lips. i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist whispers of heartache m.list

Y/N'S POV

I'm here today taking pictures for an event, at the red carpet.

My bestfriend is a famous actor and well me, I'm a professional photographer.

If you're wondering who's my bestfriend is, it's the Scarlett fucking Johansson. we met—well, bumped into eachother a few years ago causing her to accidentally spill the coffee she's holding all over my shirt and keep apologising even I told her that it was okay.

She took me out for dinner as apology. I declined at first but she kept telling me that even if I don't want to, she's still gonna take me out. so I said yes, and after that we just instantly click.

Now, we're bestfriends.

Oh, oh, wait, let me tell you a secret. She's also my girlfriend, cool right? I know!

Everyone knows that she's in a relationship but we actually didn't tell the public except our close friends and family that it was me, the public knows that we're just really close friends.

As I keep taking pictures of other celebrities, she finally arrived.

Fucking goddess. She looks ethereal and she's mine. My scarlett, my girlfriend.

She keep looking around until her eyes landed on me and gave me her gorgeous smile. I could die now. Right here, right now.

She walked towards the middle and everyone starts shouting her name.

"Over here, Scarlett!"

"Look to the right!"

"Scarlett, look over here!"

"To the left!"

There's lot of people shouting her name but she just stood still and look into my camera. Posing for only my camera, for me.

What the fuck?

All the other photographers are now looking at me. I took the camera away from my eye and glared at her before I mouthed 'stop.'

But instead of stopping and posed for others, she just smiled before walking away. I heard everyone whispering and some look at me and mutter a 'what the fuck.'

"I'm sorry." I smiled and start packing up.

"I'm gonna beat your ass, motherfucker." I muttered as I go behind the red carpet.

I passed a security and asked me what I need, "Hi! Sorry, I just need some photos with miss Johansson for our program, is that alright?"

"Wait here." He said and walked towards Scarlett who's standing with some friends.

The security talked to her until he pointed at me, smile form into her face before walking over, "Thank you, sir." I said before pulling Scarlett to the corner, out of anyone's eye.

"What was that back there!?" I whisper shout.

"What? I was posing." She casually said. "Yeah, for me. Only for my camera! You can't—" I didn't even get to finish my sentenced when she kissed me. How rude.

"You can't blame me, you're the only one I see." Scarlett said before kissing me once again.

"Stop kissing me, someone might see." I said and playfully gave her a glare.

"Alright, okay, fine. Can I atleast have a hug?" She asked, giving me her best puppy eyes and arms wide open.

I rolled my eyes and hugged her. I felt her pulling me even closer and pressing me to her body.

"Scar?" I whisper.

"Hmm?"

"You're hugging me because you want to feel my boobs, right?"

"Yeah."

very short one. feedback and reblog is highly appreciated!

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 157 (Coping Without Ash)

It had been almost a week since Ash's escort to the Landgraabs in the city. They weren't even allowed to call him, and Heather moved through the house in a walking haze. She forced herself to eat for the sake of their unborn child and doted on Lavender despite her depression, but she withdrew from her usual nature.

Conrad and her family were deeply concerned, and her mother, Daisy, arrived in the Bay with Holly, Betta, and a few suitcases. Heather's close-knit family was determined to help her through this, and they planned to stay until after the baby was born.

Normally, Conrad might object to packing their home with so many people and pets with a newborn on the way, but he hated seeing Heather like this. He hoped her family could help, but he knew, deep down, the only thing she needed was Ash.

"I talked to Felix today," he said, as they shared a cheesecake made by Daisy to follow dinner. Heather looked up, listening without a word. "He said he's found some interesting things during discovery, and he's confident about our hearing in San Myshuno."

"Did he say what he meant?" asked Daisy, but Conrad shook his head as Daisy frowned. "I just can't get past the Landgraabs pulling this after everything!"

Though she'd tried to hold it together for Heather's sake, Daisy couldn't hold back a sob while they gathered around the table.

"Why you sad, Gramma? Ash isn't gone for always. He'll be back."

"Of course he will."

Conrad got up from the table to clear a few plates, trying to remain strong in the face of Heather's crumbling facade. But he was processing grief in his own way over the ordeal, switching between anger and stoicism in rapid swings. (Seriously he's been all over the place.)

Heather went to bed early after giving Gord a bath, so Daisy and Holly hung out with Lavender and Betta when Conrad was called to a crime scene. To say they were managing without Ash around was barely accurate, but they knew they couldn't give up yet.

In Britechester, Felix and Lilith were feeling the loss of Ash's genius expertise, too. Lilith had welded the time travelling component, but now she was trying to use Ash's notes to program it to her computer and calculate a landing point. She was struggling.

"When is the custody hearing? It'll be real nice when we can finally talk to Ash again about all this."

"Next week," said Felix, strumming a silly song on Lilith's guitar.

"Stop being a goofball for a minute and take this seriously," she begged, trying not to laugh at him anyway. "Emit thinks our tech's too primitive and doesn't know enough about it to help - if he could even find the time out from underneath my sister."

"You think they're falling for each other?"

"They keep saying they're just having fun, but I know my sister. Angela wants happily ever after and she likes Emit, but she's afraid to get attached."

Felix nodded. "That's fair, isn't it? He is a time traveler, and once we help him catch his time thief, he'll go back to the future."

Lilith frowned. She turned back to her computer just as the screen flashed and turned blue, spilling code across the monitor and shocking her fingertips through the keyboard. "Dammit, I just fried it and it tried to fry me!"

Felix put down the guitar and smiled. "It's okay, Lil. Ash has already invented time travel, we just have to prove it works. Take a break, your parents are making dinner. Then see if Emit knows anything about our "primitive" computers. I think Angela's busy working out, so you should find him unoccupied for the time being."

Lilith took his advice and headed for a soak in the tub. While she relaxed, Felix repaired the computer. He was still holding on to the engagement ring, still waiting for the perfect moment to propose. But they were too distracted lately by time travel and Ash's custody case.

Emit did prove helpful with the computer, teaching Lilith how to overclock it to process Ash's codes and calculations.

"I can't say for sure the code's right, but I know a ten-year-old coming up with half of this is amazing. I trust the parts even I don't understand because so few in this time could know any of this."

"So you think we're almost ready to travel through time?" Lilith's earlier frustrations had turned back to hope.

"We could leave as soon as you're done with the custody hearing. My wristboard is still tracking the time thief, but with with two working devices, we'll head them off anywhere in time they think they can hide."

With a buzz of excitement running through their veins, Lilith and Felix shared a smile and a searing kiss. "Can you believe it? As soon as Ash is back with his parents, we're going to jump through time!"

Felix had lived through more decades than he could count, but experiencing the future - or the past - with his beloved Lilith sounded like the adventure of a lifetime. ->

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Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: In the interest of full disclosure, I don't know if any mods out there connect a custody battle with grief moodlets and these moodlets for Conrad actually followed the death of Ben. Heather grieved Ben, too, but she was more muted and dazed, understandably, because she didn't know him as well. But grief moodlets can be persistent and Conrad was still going through it during this time, so I mean no disrespect to Ben (really!) but I usurped those moodlets for my plot, and their grief styles informed how I wrote this arc.