#ALSO feel free to use any of this for your own projects!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

endearng · 4 months ago

Text

Loner to lover

Pairing: young!Spencer Reid x professor!reader Summary: Running away from your problems is said to be irresponsible, but it just might lead you to where you need to be; to whom you must be with and, utterly, to the one you're supposed to be. WC: 10.1k Warnings: jealous spencer (a warning of its own) unspecified age gap; infidelity; smut in the form of soft and vulnerable sex between two virgins - (p in v), creamp*e (sorry), softdom!spencer, dacryphilia if you squint. Let me know if I missed anything. A/N: I had to use the frightening 'L/N'. Sorry sorry sorry. Also I just know Spencer is a little shit when encouraged so... he's a bit insistent here............ anyways I love this do much and I hope you enjoy reading it as well. | Masterlist

Spencer remembers the time when you first met. The reason, happenstance and the enormous range of mixed feelings that it brought him.

Early twenties. Collecting BAs for fun. Dr. Spencer Reid thought of a social life second, third, fourth... whatever position behind his education. His responsibility and intelligence were mere details compared to his application to his studies, which was a trait that made him singular to every single one of the professors whose classes he chose to take. Quick and smart remarks, useful contributions, thought-provoking ideas, you name it; there wasn't a single good student expectation that Spencer couldn't meet. In the academic world, the young man was highly recommended and wanted by any and every superior who wanted a good insight on their research, and that was saying a lot — society's greatest minds would compete for that brilliant brain in hopes to have his attention and participation on their projects. Spencer Reid, to his colleagues, was a walking experiment: that guy was able to keep up with his classes, the research programs he was invited to be a part of (they were jealous of this particular information, because they had to almost literally fight their way into a internship) and, on his free time, he had the nerve to feed his curiosity and come up with even more ideas of his own.

A brilliant, lonely heart amidst a crowded sea of people who were mainly too focused on themselves to notice him, unless it was to compare themselves to the absolute success he was among the academic world.

Given his mild demeanor, it is no surprise that his professors would trust him anything and that he easily won their hearts over — he remembers attending dinners at their places when they were particularly close to him; Spencer was not a stranger to a safe proximity to his mentors, after all, they were his only friends. So, it was with a dreadful surprise that he received the news that his favorite professor and advisor, Dr. Brown, would retire. Immediately, Spencer thought, with a frown on his face, that nobody could replace him. Plus, it would be disencouraging to go to those classes with someone he didn’t even know. The news had dampened his mood, to say the least, and he was ready to protest.

"Don't worry, Reid," said Dr. Brown, kind eyes wrinkling in the corners as he smiled, sitting on his chair behind his huge desk, "Dr. L/N is a great person, in more ways than one. I'm sure you will be thrilled to work with her."

"I'm not sure. It takes me some time to get used to certain situations."

"I know, but I'm sure you've had to adapt to some unexpected events at some point," retorted the older man, psychologist mode in full swing, "This is no different. And, if I must say, not entirely unexpected. There's only so far a man can go without losing his mind.”

"I suppose so," Spencer muttered, feeling a bit selfish — it wasn't fair of him to put his thoughts before the older man's needs.

Dr. Brown looked at his pupil, who avoided eye contact for most of the time. The professor had taken an almost paternal liking to Spencer as they grew closer after the younger man stood behind in the classroom wanting to ask different and plenty of questions about the spectacle he had just watched, his first one. It was rare, for Mr. Brown, to have and hold a student's attention so uniquely, and it was as rare for Spencer to have someone explain things and welcome his curiosity so openly. Science had bonded them together — being men of science, they knew better than to argue with its effects.

"I was thinking, Spencer. If you're not so busy, you could keep leading the experiments in our lab, helping out our new professor." At that, Spencer's expression turned a bit sour, to which Mr. Brown chuckled, "Trust me, you'll have nothing to worry about. In fact, I think you two are greatly alike."

Spencer let nothing out but a hum of agreement, perking up slightly at that remark. He wanted to ask what the older man meant, but stopped himself, asking instead, "When does she get here?"

"I believe she is settling in her studio as we speak. You'll meet her tomorrow. I wish I could introduce the two of you, but, unfortunately, I leave at 3 a.m."

Exchanging goodbyes and wishes of a safe flight, Spencer left for his dorm, where he busied himself with the papers of the guest professor. Of course, he would not betray his ritual of researching the guest professor to know about their academic background, as well as their field of research, stylistics and projects to check if something would raise his spirits. It didn't matter that he wasn't pleased with the replacement.

Dr. L/N. You were, apparently, a great researcher for the Psycholinguistics area—a branch that made you known in fields such as Education, Criminology, Psychology, Linguistics, Communication... The list was endless. If he was honest, he felt a little baffled—and embarrassed—that he hadn't done any research on your contributions thus far. A mind like yours should get a recognition beyond any borders. Once he got a glimpse of your brain and what it could do, he was gone. Your resume was impeccable: you had studied in different institutions in countries, proficiency in multiple languages, uncountable papers and mentions of your name in studies in all the areas above.

He doesn't remember falling asleep or turning off his laptop. However, he remembers that, in dreams, he finds someone, but, strangely, he can't make up a face.

(...)

Walking through a bustling crowd of people always made you winded, the noise and the inevitable bumping too overwhelming for you to handle on top of being somewhere new. So, you preferred to sit and wait in a small, more secluded hall in the building that Dr. Brown said you would find his lab. After the morning rush, the corridors were filled by distant echoes of louder professors or students, which made you calmer; to think you weren't completely alone. Traveling to help out a friend was a much welcomed distraction from what you had left at home, something you weren't quite ready to access just yet. You could remember your shrink's voice as she said that, at times, it was useless to think so ahead of the future.

Unbeknownst to her, you agreed wholeheartedly. It was useless. The moment you could have done something for yourself was already lost, long gone, buried by endless hours of work and occupations to keep you from breaking a dam of lonely despair.

Speaking of the past, you slid your golden ring off your wedding finger, letting it fall inside your coat pocket as you made your way through the halls. Upon seeing a door with Dr. Brown's lab small logo on it, you cracked a small smile, remembering the story behind it: you and a bunch of other students trying to come up with a nice, thoughtful gift to encourage the guest professor's new interests. When you opened the door, you found a tall, thin man sitting by the computer desk, apparently engrossed until he heard the click of the lock, finding your eyes with equal parts startle and wonder, lips parted gently, surprise etched all over his pretty face.

The young man had innocent, almost bambi-like eyes. It was the first thing you had noticed about him. Staring at you, hazel eyes so expressive that you were sure he could speak through his glance alone.

After the initial surprise, you thought you knew who he was, having heard all about Dr. Brown’s new favorite student and mentee. Spencer Reid, who seemed to study for leisure, deeply intelligent and reliable. No wonder he was in the lab, settling everything so that he would be helpful. It was a faithfully vivid image, much like the one that had settled into your brain when your colleague had described who he was working with.

"Dr. L/N."

"Dr. Reid."

Your unison voices mingled in the air. You walked up to where he was, holding out a hand for him to shake. Dazedly, he stood up, taking your hands in his, which made you smile at him, appreciating his politeness. Spencer, on the other hand, felt frozen.

Whatever it was that he, at some point, imagined you would look like, it was nothing compared to the real thing. All your features seemed to be mathematically, precisely calculated to form one of the most beautiful and soft complexions he had ever laid his eyes upon. You spoke again, no longer blocked by his own voice, so gently that it was almost as if he was being physically touched by your voice. Your accent was not strong, but it was perceptible, something that he attributed to your multilingual abilities. "Sorry to barge in like that. It's nice to meet you. Dr. Brown told me a lot about you," you revealed, still smiling.

"It's okay. Nice to meet you too.” Tongue-tied. He felt illiterate, close to a woman who he was not supposed to have certain types of thoughts around. You breathed out a huff of amusement at his widened eyes.

There was a bit of an awkward silence when you both noticed that none of you had let go of the other's hand yet. With a clear of your throat and his fugitive glance, you both composed yourselves, retreating from your touch. "He said," you started with a chuckle, "and I quote, that you are now his eyes, ears, hands and brain in here. So, beforehand, I want to say that I truly appreciate your support and help." You said, politely, to which he smiled nervously with a shaky nod.

"It's no problem, really. Dr. Brown is one of the greatest here and it'd be naive of me to not accept his request."

You grinned, agreeing. "Yeah, he is a great man. Well, I believe you are more familiar with all the devices than I am." You said, motioning to the set-up behind him. "I do have these back at my university, but yours is a bit different from what I can see. I suppose they work the same way, but, to be honest, I don’t want to mess anything up."

Spencer blinked, scientist mode on full swing. "Yeah, yeah." He nodded, looking at her again. "You don't have to worry, I was just checking the last details before starting the experiments. Everything is already settled, but I can talk you through it if you want to conduct the experiment by yourself at some point.” He trailed. Curiously, he added, “If I may ask, what made you interested in this research?"

Your heart's happiness bursted into sparkles in your eyes as you smiled, glad that he asked you about it. You talked him through it, giving him specific details as he sat and listened like you were the most brilliant brain in the entire world. As you talked, he remembers feeling his lips twitching up in a small smile. Once you were done, encouraged by your honesty and heartfelt explanation, he revealed with a faint dust of pink on his cheeks, "I know. I, um, I searched and read some of your papers last night.”

"Really?" You asked, cordial.

"I try my best to get to know my professors' fields before meeting them. It's a way I found to keep my brain entertained and to get ready for what's coming next." He admitted softly, mentally patting himself on the back for not stuttering.

"That is a good approach. I must say I wish I had that kind of mindset when I was your age."

"It’s okay. You've been doing a great job."

Silence. Understanding from both parts.

"But... to answer your question, I have been really interested in working with language lately, more than usual, at least." You chuckled softly. Spencer couldn't stop his own grin at your enthusiasm, eager to hear your voice.

You agreed once he offered to show you how their device worked, sitting on the chair in front of it. Spencer motioned for you to go ahead and place your chin on the small stand. He took notice of your hands when you placed them on the desk, bitten nails and small, red spots on their edges. It concerned him, but he brushed it off, thinking it could have been a simple nervous habit, knowing he had no business asking or worrying about you. You were his professor, after all. "Whenever I lead this experiment with my students, they always tell me they feel like they are at the ophthalmologist."

Spencer chuckled. "Yeah. It does feel like it. You can't even move an inch."

You followed the instructions on the computer screen so that the device would follow your eye movements. It worked quickly, which made you pleasantly surprised and it was hard to hide it from your tone, "This is faster than any other I have tried before."

"Welcome to our university."

As you worked on the experiment, answering to the commands on the scream silently, the device following your orbs, Spencer took his time to study your features. Your hair was neatly up in a ponytail, dainty earrings adorning your ears that matched your gentle features. All your sharpness, if you had any, was in your eyes. An intense gaze that made him falter a bit, as if his brain had the need to stop for a second to store the sight of your gaze on him to remember it for good. Your movements were calm and collected, and, ironically, you looked rather young to be a doctor.

Once you had finished, you didn't pull away immediately from the device. The computer could no longer pinpoint where your eyes were, because then they were directed at Spencer instead glancing at him as if studying him, taking him in to remember his features like a quote that you knew by heart. As he turned to look at you, he started explaining how to save a volunteer's progress and, honestly, you were only half listening, focusing on his mild mannerisms, voice and use of language. You nodded here and there, absentmindedly storing that information. You two departed after exchanging some more information, mostly him guiding you through the campus, talking about each department and what was the fastest and best way to get to the building you were staying at.

Spencer remembers going home with renewed interest. He couldn't help but think about the way you portrayed yourself, the way you talked and moved, almost as if you were an ethereal being that was placed on Earth by an unfortunate mistake. Even though he had been unable to come up with a face for you last night as he read your thoughts, you had been an enchanting surprise. Unable to stop the thought, he gave it some indulgent room: you would, somehow, be a distraction. And he was crazy to get to know in which way.

A couple days went by without Spencer seeing you. You were quite busy yourself with the lectures you were planning and teaching. That morning, though, he had found you teaching Dr. Brown's previous class. It was surprising, and mildly irritating, to see that the class was the most crowded it had ever been. Taking a good look around and listening to a few comments that bothered him to no end, he found out the reason. Some of them wanted to simply see you. The thought was like being bathed in scorching water. He chose to sit in the front, because he thought, petulant, that you would know and remember his face and his face alone. As you entered the classroom and greeted the students with a warm good morning, you were pleasantly surprised to see Dr. Reid in the front row.

After neatly arranging your belongings on the desk, you started your class on the dot. “Hello, everyone. I am professor L/N and I am here to take over Dr. Brown's class.” You started, voice precisely clear. “Now, I understand that some of your colleagues might be running late for some reason. I don't mind if you are late at some point, but try not to make it a habit because it might disrupt our class. I do tend to start my lectures on the dot in respect to those who managed to get here on time. Today, we will talk about…”

You spoke gently, but you had your boundaries set and clear, which made Spencer squirm a bit. Seeing you so sure of yourself, so assertive, made something stir deep within him. Besides, the dumbstruck look of the many students gave him enough clue that he was not the only one feeling a little affected by you and your ways. As you went on and on about the topic, you gestured with your pretty hands, making smart remarks and cracking some light jokes that made everyone a lot less nervous around you. The new, pretty professor.

The topic, behavior, sounded redundant, at that point, because he had studied that subject over and over again, tiringly, exhaustingly, but there was just something about the way you spoke, about your mannerisms that he couldn't look away. You had a way with words, and he was fascinated by how you managed to make some more complex subjects so understandable to students, even if you sometimes drifted deeper into a certain concept, only to go back to them later. He couldn't even speak. The class was relieved while he was troubled.

“Huh, that's odd. Half of you are not in the roll.” You commented, turning the lights back on. “Is this correct?” You muttered to yourself, afraid that maybe you had the data of another class instead.

A girl suddenly spoke up, “Many of us are auditing.”

“Oh?” You wondered. “How many of you?”

Quickly calculating, Spencer bitterly noticed that about 70% percent of the class raised their hands. He wanted to think that it had to do with the fact that these people weren't around for Professor Brown. You smiled, warmly. It was a punch to the gut. “Well, I hope you enjoyed the lecture.

It was when the students slowly exited the class that he was able to reach you, gathering your papers and looking content. Sharply gentle eyes, impeccable posture and pristine clothes found his gaze and he found that he didn't want to look at anything else. He didn't seem to be ready to have that small heart attack every morning. He felt equal parts of embarrassment and a flutter on his belly. He approached you calmly, and as you greeted him, there was a warm look on your face. "Hi. Good morning, Dr. Reid.”

“You did a great job,” he blurted out, voice a bit strained. You only pretended you didn't notice. “Good morning.” He remembered to greet you back. Nice.

Your voice was low as you muttered a soft "thank you."

"Of course." He said, fiddling with the strap of his bag.

"I never asked... What is your field?” You inquired, curiously, grabbing your bag and walking side by side with him, exiting the room.

Spencer had that answer nearly tattooed on his brain. “I have PhDs in Chemistry, Engineering and Mathematics,” he started, nonchalantly, as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I also have a BA in Sociology and Philosophy. This is my third one, Psychology.”

“How old are you?” You blurted out, baffled.

“23. I, uh, I graduated from school at the age of 12.”

You stood there, speechless. Of course you knew that that was possible in some countries, but the casualness in his tone got to you more than his exceptional educational background. “That is… unreal.” You whispered. “You are so young and… and… You are still absorbed with learning.”

He chuckled, shrugging, delighted by your compliment. “Yeah, I guess… Not many people would make the same choices as I would.”

Your entire body froze, including your hidden hand, because his words had hit a particular spot within you. You gave him a nod, agreeing. “Well, it is still impressive.”

“I appreciate it.” He said, looking down and missing the slight dejection on your face. Nevertheless, his heart fluttered at the praise coming from you.

Shaking off the dark thoughts, you started again, “If I may ask, why did you switch from STEM to Humanities?” You asked, now mildly amused as he looked at you, taking the stairs with him to the office. Occasionally, your shoulders brushed.

“Curiosity.”

“Is that all?” You asked, puzzled.

“I was always surrounded with a wide access to books and overall knowledge. My mother was a Literature teacher.” He explained, a small smile gracing his face.

“That must have been nice. You must know a lot about the classics. They are my favorite kind of Literature.”

“They were good distractions, I guess… I wasn't, uh, the most popular kid growing up.” He trailed off.

“Me neither,” you said.

Spencer noticed that you walked with a hand on your pocket, but couldn't say anything about it, too much more focused on the way he seemed to be bathed in a newfound confidence around you. As you reached the office, he quickly placed his belongings on the leather couch by the door. With a low whine of disappointment, which caught your eye, he announced, “If you'll excuse me, I have to get a few books from the library.”

It was better than saying, hey, I was too distracted by you that I forgot that I also have responsibilities.

“Oh, sure. Go ahead. I'll be here.”

“Thanks.”

The door closed with a soft click, and you found yourself all alone again. Taking a look around, you busied yourself by analyzing your surroundings. There was a wall covered by huge, tall, dark shelves, cramped with books. The piece of furniture reached the roof with all sorts of technical literature. A small glass cabinet on the opposite wall showcased trinkets from all over the world, kids drawings and family pictures. A leather couch, cushions and an equally dark wooden desk adorned the room as well. A white light brightened the room, illuminating his titles, and a yellowish one lightened a painting on the wall, made by Dr. Brown's daughter, of the beach they visited frequently. It made you irrationally jealous. The reminder that other people had constant remnants of love was a stab to your chest, and you looked away from the bitter/sweet reminders.

Suddenly, your eyes got a glimpse of Spencer's belongings: technical books, a satchel bag, his coat and a small notebook. You wondered what he would write about in there, whether it was some sort of planner or he just thought out loud on those pages. You fought the urge to touch his stuff, deciding to sit on the couch after shrugging off your coat and laying it close to Spencer's things.

Still plagued by an annoying flicker of envy, you picked your ring, analyzing it with fierce focus between your fingers. The material, white gold, was supposed to adorn your hand for the rest of your life. The only personal thing about it was that it had been custom-made, by demand, just for you. A wedding band was supposed to hold, to be a souvenir of the deepest commitment of love. But as fate would have it, it had been nothing but an object. It held no meaning, since you and your husband easily slid it off when it was convenient.

There was a small date carved on the inside part of the ring. Neither you or Oliver wanted any stronger reminders of each other. To you, he was merely tolerable, and you struggled to feel anything but sorry for him. Despite the fact that you were helplessly coerced into marriage, you despised him for never having the guts of chasing a life, instead busying himself with living the fleeting pleasures that his parents' money provided him, spending his endless vacations overseas, sleeping around. A typical bohemian. A bon-vivant. The fact made you bitter. How does one possess every kind of mean and doesn't care to improve themselves as a person?

Inevitably, you were pulled into a strong stream of memories.

The sun filtered through the curtains, illuminating the dining room that held uncountable and expensive decorations. What caught your eye, though, is a much too long and large table with endless chairs. You remember thinking it was over the top, since neither you or Oliver would plan to have guests over. Swallowing your remarks, you smiled to your father and exchanged a look with your sister-in-law, not bothering to look at Oliver and therefore missing his awestruck look. It was the first time you were visiting the big house with its endless rooms, windows and useless areas. You ignored the subtle meaning of it: you were supposed to carry on your families’ names. The mason had been your parents’ gift, so you decided to stay quiet about it, not commenting on the tacky, outrageous muchness of things. You had learned the hard way not to fight back when it came to their decisions.

From a very young age, you were special. A charming, intelligent, quick-witted child who busied herself with studies and books who had a series of leisure time activities to go through during her free time. Hence, you grew up exceptional. You were always the center of attention somehow; being the first grandkid from both sides of your family granted you a few privileges, you held their entire focus, entertaining them with your particular and curious behavior during their gatherings. Whenever they showed up, your parents would remember some new ability for them to show you off. Playing the piano, chess, languages… You were always in the top of the class, in the best schools, surrounded by kids your age that belonged to the best families.

It was with a deep, heartbreaking sadness that you realized that you had their attention for your potential and everything you could add to their name. Nobody ever played with the first child.

Beautiful, graceful, wistful, clueless little you.

Your family’s connections and endless activities for you had been how you met Oliver in the first place. A smart, easy on the eyes boy who became a smooth talker as he grew older. You were friends from a very young age, but nothing more. You were always too caught up on working on yourself and your abilities in order to charm everyone that romance was something you couldn't even begin to fathom — it was nothing but a strange and distant feeling. You kept things platonic between you and him, spending time, mostly listening. Oliver would tell you all about his interests, and when the age came, he would tell you, rather technically, how his endeavors with other girls went.

You never thought of Oliver as more than a friend. In fact, his manners grew to annoy you, like a small barb in your shoe, if you were totally honest — not that you would dare to. You simply endured his existence, saving your reviles for yourself, because, growing up, you never knew what it was to freely express yourself. How lacking it was to grow up not knowing what it was to speak your mind freely without a strong reprimand of some sort.

Such painful dawnings had only taken place at the age of 20, when your parents and Oliver's had agreed to marry the both of you. Unable to fight back, you simply watched it happen. It was so damaging and traumatic that you could barely remember the times you had spent together, everything was just a big knot of confusing memories to which you felt more like an spectator than an actor. Over the course of the years, Oliver and you would make public appearances, but you had told him, on the first night after your marriage, that he was free to do whatever he wanted, as long as he didn't ruin your image. No. Not the one you had dedicated your entire life building.

Throughout the entire thing, your sister-in-law had been your anchor. A distant one, that sits in the bottom of the sea, as you navigated through your own life. Being too close to you was a sad reminder of your situation and she was aware of that. She had her friends and connections, unknowingly, check on you, though. She was all in for pretending her sad excuse of a brother didn't exist. Theresa and Oliver were polar opposites: a hard-working woman and a sluggish man.

Eventually, as you both moved through the world, engrossed in your true passions, Oliver had truly found someone. Someone you didn't bother learning the name of. Someone, you preferred to think, that didn't know about you and that if she did, she truly didn't care. The feeling was mutual. You, on the other hand, delved deeper into your studies, busying yourself to the fullest. It was nice, in a way, because that way, you were shielding yourself from the world and your inevitable, eternal struggle of a loveless life in the only way you knew how: through being someone.

It was far from a solution, but that's where it ended. It had been years since the last time you heard your name coming from someone else's lips. You didn't dream of it happening anytime soon. You didn't let it happen, anyway. Every advance was cut before it turned into expectations.

A small gasp erupting between your lips broke you out of your reverie when you heard the lock being harshly handled, which made you bolt straight to the door, dropping the ring on the floor. Opening it, you saw Spencer struggling to balance a huge pile of books and a tray with two cups of coffee. He thanked you softly when you offered to help him, your skin touching his briefly, jolts of something unknown coursing through both of your bodies. Pulling away, you placed the books on the desk, searching his eyes as he blushed like crazy.

“I got you coffee… I don't know how you take it, so I got it black with two sugars. There are many options these days, which can make choosing one a challenging decision, since there are undeniable and endless possibilities of you being allergic to some of the ingredients. Of course, there are also chances of cross-contamination. Now that I think about it, I should have probably gotten you tea. Oh, my God. Do you even drink coffee?” He finished, almost panting.

You stifled out a laugh. His ways were endearing. “It's okay, Dr. Reid. I'll drink it. I'm not allergic nor prefer tea over coffee. Okay?”

“Okay.” He said, puppy eyes finding yours again.

“Thank you, by the way. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course.” He said, smiling softly.

It quickly turned into your go-to order.

—

Students came and went, and you made conversation with them, which made you all the more endearing for Spencer. You asked about their day, how they ended up there, and you looked genuinely interested in their answers. It could be a stretch, but Spencer felt that, much like himself, you wanted to make connections — but not the professional kind. You wanted to belong somewhere, from the way your eyes held an intimate and unwavering hint of sadness when you heard their answers, but none of them had the nerve to ask you back. It was expected, though, because no one would think of a professor as a friend. The entire time, you were being addressed as such or as Dr.. You couldn't blame them. That was who you were, too lost in that character to remember who you actually were. If you had been someone, that is.

As Spencer sat behind the computer, ready to access today's tests, you chatted with a freshman student. Glancing at the clock, the girl with excited mannerisms almost shrieked, “Oh, my God! Is it that late already?! I have to go to my piano class.”

“Sorry to hear that,” you said, sounding a bit deflated. “It was nice to meet you, Dana. I'm really happy you've helped us.”

“Anytime, professor! Bye!” She said, walking through the door and closing it behind her.

You turned to Spencer, a hint of longing in your expression. “Are you leaving as well?”

“Not yet. I want to go over our results for the day.”

“Oh!” You exclaimed, approaching him to lean by his side on the desk, supporting your weight on one arm as your other hand touched the back of his chair. He could smell your perfume, something uniquely different, aromatic and so fitting. “Does it compare results automatically?” You asked, turned to look at him.

“Unfortunately, no,” he muttered, unfocused, eyes scanning all over your face, focusing especially on your lips. “I have to do that myself, which is why I'll take longer to leave. If we leave this for the last minute, it'll be much more stressful.”

“Slow and steady it is, then.” You said, grinning. “I'll stay to help you.”

—

Spencer remembers when he started feeling a lot stronger about you.

You were in the office, decorating it as your own. Spencer took notice of your belongings, trying to catch a glimpse of everything that made you yourself. There were abundant novels in many different languages filling the tall shelves, some souvenirs from different parts of the world, your titles… The analytic part of his brain took notice of the lack of family pictures and overall personal items. It was achingly professional and distant, the way you were setting your space. He couldn't help but chime in, “Is that all you're putting up?”

With a lopsided grin, you tried to justify, sensing his intentions. “I don't like cluttering.”

He didn't answer, sensing that it might be sensitive unknown territory. You unboxed a wood chess board, placing it on one of the bottom shelves. He looked at you, a silent question in his eyes. “Just in case someone wants to play,” you said, as you forced a smile that didn't reach your eyes.

The next day, Spencer walked through the office door with a box in hands. He hid it between the sofa and the wall. As you arrived, you talked briefly about the research, which was now coming to an end. Flopping down on the floor, crisscrossed and barefoot, you sighed, smiling as he updated you. “You know, I don't think I've ever been happier.”

“Yeah?” He asked, curiously.

“It almost feels unreal, how kind life's been to me lately.” You revealed, voice trembling a bit with emotion.

“Somehow, that's hard to believe.”

“Is that so?” You asked, playfully. Spencer had to swallow before your mischievous smile. A new expression on your face that he found that he quite liked.

“I mean, look around. You have everything some people think it takes to be happy.”

“You're right. Some people. I don't.” You retorted with a dip of your chin.

“What would make you happy, then?” He inquired, eager to find out. To become it.

You breathed in, closing your eyes. “I'll let you know once I figure it out.”

Should he say it? Would it be indelicate? Insensitive? Too much? Too straightforwa— “You sound a little hopeless.”

“Maybe I am.” You said, almost shrugging. Like it's not a big deal.

“You shouldn't be.” He retorted, sitting down in front of you.

“What makes you so certain?”

“You're young.”

“If anything, that only feeds despair, to some extent.” You said, distantly.

Internal battle at full extent, once again. “You know… I… I have been keeping an eye on you.”

You tilt your head the slightest bit, gaze unwavering. “What do you mean?”

Spencer struggled to form coherent thoughts, to articulate his own ideas before blurting them out rather excitedly. “You seem so… different. It's almost like you're out of this world. It's fascinating, actually. You're very deep in your own little world. Even the way you speak tells something about loneliness. So well, eloquently—”

“Susan Sontag.”

He smiled, satisfied. “See? How would you remember a quote by heart if your mind was filled with some things else?”

Against your will, you agreed. “You're right, Dr. Reid.”

Silence. He stood up, walking to grab the box behind the couch. He came back and sat in front of you once again, but this time, his knee brushed yours and neither of you mentioned it. You welcomed the warmth. Spencer hid the one coloring his cheeks. “Call me Spencer.”

“What is that?”

“Flowers.”

“Flowers?”

“You need some life around here.”

You giggled, absolutely delighted when you saw the box, containing an orchid Lego set. Spencer fought against his every instinct to just pull you into his arms at the sound that twisted his insides instantaneously. It was the first time he had heard you laugh, a rich, funny sound that seemed to have erupted from your own soul. “Is this for me? Because, you know, this might be the best thing I've ever gotten.”

“Oh, really?” He asks, feigning sarcasm. “I could've sworn it was the original piece on your wall.”

“Thank you, Spencer.”

“You're welcome.”

Despite your position, your posture was as elegant as it had ever been. He placed the pieces between the two of you. Eventually and almost silently, like a personal prayer, he learned how to call you by your name upon your insistence. With a soft look in his eye, he relented. Everything about him seemed to tell you that he was there to help you build the set. That it was alright, because he was there.

You two stood up, one at a time, once you had finished the set. Standing by the window, you glanced at the pretty plastic orchids that now were placed on your desk, right next to your name, a funny little piece amidst such a formal environment. He followed you after a brief moment of doubt. “You know, Spencer,” you uttered and he thought he might be addicted to the chain of sounds that makes up his name falling from your lips as he watched them, mesmerized. “Thank you so much for this. It's a nice feeling. Like I have a friend.”

You both shared the intimacy of a glance with each other. You decided to elaborate, too shaken by the thought of your loneliness being palpable. “You're right… I've always been a bit on the lonely side.”

He was pleased to see so much honesty from your end, and happy to see something of himself in you. He swallowed, trying to control these thoughts and keeping his composure. “I think you're very easy to get along with.”

“That's the first time I hear that.”

Spencer couldn't help the wince that came with the stabbing pain he felt at your revelation. “It's true. I…” Who are these people? “I think you're very easy to like.”

You thanked him again, quietly, lowering your gaze to the space between the two of you. Seemingly under a spell that had been casted by the way you let your guard down, ignoring the nervous pit on his stomach and not taking the time to process the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings running through him. You stood so close, if he could just— “Looking from up here, all people look so tiny.”

“Considering the extent of the universe, we are pretty tiny.”

You snorted, shaking your head softly. “Proportion changes perspective, huh, Spencer?”

Losing control over his words, utterly lost, he continued, “I also… I find you pretty… pretty.”

Your eyes glanced up to meet his. Spencer tried to read your expression, desperate to see if you were surprised, disgusted, uncomfortable or if you welcomed his words. Instead, he found a hint of longing in your eyes that he couldn't begin to understand. “I… I don't know what to say.”

Compliments were a sensitive, unknown territory for you. You only knew what these were if you outdone yourself in whatever earned you attention. Sighing, you looked at him, almost guilty.

“Sorry, I… I shouldn't have said anything.” He cringes, avoiding your gaze.

“It… It wasn't.” Deep breath. “It's just that… you're…”

Were there words in the English language for these feelings?

“I know. I didn't… I don't expect you to say anything in return,” he says, almost dejectedly. The truth is out and he can't take it back. “I just wanted to come clean. And I think that it's not just looks that draw me to you.”

You stood there, speechless.

“You're not mad? Or… or offended?” He tries.

You looked at his widened, scared eyes. It made you want to soothe him — the instinct disconnecting your mouth from any sense of ethics or decency that ran through your brain. Taking another deep breath, scared to death, “I’m actually flattered. You're a very beautiful person, inside and out, but… but… I'm your professor, Spencer, and older than you.” You said, voice wavering slightly as you got to look into his eyes again.

“Somehow… when I think about you… neither of these seem to be a problem. I can't—not think about you.”

His words crafted a small crack. There would forever be a memory in your brain of the exact same moment when his words settled in. You fell to pieces, and as you did, you felt yourself losing control of your own actions, of your sense of ethics or principles. Before you thought it through, as you felt every sense of reason leaving your body, you tilted your head up, a silent, welcoming consent of his lessening distance. Spencer, who looked almost pained with so much want, let out tiny puffs of breath as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He couldn't believe you were seemingly taking a risk like that, but he found that he couldn’t and didn't want to hold back any longer. The young man, very carefully, cradled your cheeks, bravely holding your glance as he caressed the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb. Time stood still when you closed your eyes, slowly, and he tilted your chin up the slightest bit, angling you just the way he needed. The touch, the existence of you was so intense and overwhelming that it made him shiver, and he was failing to keep his hands from shaking. Following the stream of whispered truths, you added, “I want to give you something to truly think about. I need your permission.”

Softly, Spencer brushed his lips against yours as he closed his eyes. It was gentle, tentative, almost experimental. The touch, albeit subtle, calmed his every nerve, and his shoulders relaxed at the contact. A shaky exhale left his lips when you pulled him in, placing your hand on the nape of his neck, the feeling grounding and safe. When your lips interlock together, it's a moment of realization; he doesn't think that he wanted something so badly without even knowing what it actually was.

Your touch is tender, as if you were both afraid that harshness would steal one from the other, relishing in the moment and in the rush of sensations that were unknown to the both of you. Spencer was so afraid that you were going to pull away and run, but he just couldn't control himself as he slid his tongue into your mouth, basking in the small satisfied sound that you made, his hands gripping your waist. You, on the other hand, felt as if you had been pushed into a sea of hot, scalding water. No touch had ever made you feel like that, and your desperation had you now tightly gripping at his vest, trying to get him impossibly closer to you. Your bodies pressed against each other set a trail of fire between the two of you, and the kiss gradually became more urgent. Violent, even.

When you pull back, he doesn't let you go far, his face only inches away, barely registering that you actually needed to breathe so great was his need to feel you against him once more. Panting, you leaned your forehead against his, not ready to open your eyes and see his face. You'd be lost.

“At least now I have something proper to think about.”

Flustered at him using your own words against you, you couldn't meet his gaze. You tried to say something, but all the courage pumping through your veins seemed to have found a way out of your system, leaving you helpless, utterly defeated into silence. A small feeling of guilt started to grow inside you, and you were warring against it. You had just kissed a student in your workplace when you were trying to have a fresh start. Spencer, noticing your turmoil, was quick to engulf you in a hug. The action, so simple, worked like a balm to your nerves, and you allowed yourself to take a deep breath, inhaling his scent, which had just become your favorite. You didn't want to let him go, neither did you know if you would ever be able to.

Resting his chin on your shoulder, he cradles the back of your head. Under the sofa, lies a small, shiny object that was long forgotten due to both its irrelevance in your life and the first moment of genuine affection you've ever experienced.

—

You remember how it felt like to lose control of yourself.

It had been days since the secret kiss you shared with Spencer and it had been the last time you saw him. Your days were filled with endless phone calls with lawyers and Theresa, desperate to find yourself free from your doom excuse of a… marriage? It seemed offensive to even relate that word to whatever you had been forced upon doing. Your nights were spent by your bedroom window, watching as people came and went, noticing with heartbreak how distant you seemed to be from everyone. You were a stranger in many ways, but above all, you were a stranger to yourself. Every little manifestation of action or thought made you inevitably remember all the people and their behavior that shaped you into whatever you are today.

And then there was Spencer. Spencer, whose touch was making you feel constantly equal parts guilty and entranced. Spencer, who was spamming your email inbox, wondering where you were. Spencer, who was the only person you truly allowed yourself to think about. The sight of him haunted your nights and the ghost of his voice echoed inside your head when you were sitting around in the empty studio. It was supposed to be refreshing, really, how his mere existence made a new flicker of hope bloom in your chest that had been unknown thus far. It was bold to call it hope, but you preferred to do that because there was no other word, no other feeling that you knew well enough to associate it with the memory of him.

You had forgotten the sound of your voice. The only thing your apartment walls heard in the time span of three days and three nights had been the following string of words:

“Theresa, are you there? Can we talk?”

—

Spencer remembers how it felt to miss you like a lost puzzle piece.

It had been days and your silence was upsetting him like nothing ever had. Sick of replaying that moment over and over, he decided to find you instead. It was late at night as he walked your street after pondering whether he should or not confront you about your silence. There wasn't much to discuss. It was just a kiss — secretly, he was scared that you would argue so —, but the lack of news from you had him feeling on edge. A tall building, endless windows. On the fifth floor, he could make a figure staring out into the city, and he couldn't begin to explain where the strength came from to run up to where you were. There was only one apartment per floor, so he knocked impatiently on your door.

501.

Upon hearing the sound, you stared, a bit scared, at the door. Opening a small slit, you saw him and your entire body froze. You closed it immediately, fear etched into your features as if he was an impending threat. As if he could cause you any harm.

“Please,” he cried, resting his forehead on the door. He tried not to compare the stiffness of the object to the softness of your skin. A clear of his throat. “Please. Nobody's seen you for days. I… I haven't seen you in days.”

There was a minute of mortifying silence, but he decided to wait. What was another moment if he had waited for you for so long? Spencer let out another plea, this time, calling you by your name.

You let him in, but you couldn't meet his gaze. Nevertheless, he noticed your bloodshot eyes. Speaking your name softly, he inquired, worryingly, approaching you. “What happened to you?”

You took a small step back, straightening your posture once you realized how close he was getting to you. The action made your heart shatter. “Don't,” you pleaded, soft-spoken as ever.

“Look at me.” He croaked, pleadingly, timorous.

Reluctantly, you met his eyes. They were confused, questioning, and it was a first on his expression. You felt guilty for doing this to him. “I can't do this to you, Spencer. I can't.”

“Please… Talk to me. Don't shut me out.”

“We can't do this. I'm your professor, and, and…”

“Are you seriously pulling the professor card? I'm not one of those undergraduate students. I'm me. It's me. We've been so close and when I think something finally might happen, you disappeared. It wasn't fair.”

Each of his words were stabs in your already hanging by a thread heart. Rip the band-aid.

“I'm married.”

There was a moment of stunned silence from his end. You knew how cruel it was to use your formal marital state to avoid him from coming any closer, but you tried not to dwell on it. This was it. Spencer deserved better. And for the first time in your life, you couldn't be better. His silence made your stomach churn painfully, aware of the ache you were causing him, and desperate to be the one to soothe the damage you had done.

Spencer, on the other hand, stared at you blankly. Almost skeptically, even. You'd have analyzed it better if you weren't too busy with your own turmoil about him. “I don't see him anywhere,” he finally said, defiantly.

Surprise took over your features, and before you could form another painful remark, Spencer approached you decisively. “Where is him, huh?”

Cutting you off as you opened your mouth to speak, once again, he scowled. “Damn him. I would do anything just to have you around.”

The crack was now big enough that he could see all parts of you from where he stood. Right then, though, the glimpse he caught before you violently smashed your lips against his was enough to haunt him for a lifetime. Your gaze, so utterly tired yet determined, looking at him as if he was the only thing in your entire world — perhaps he was. The kiss was demanding, fueled by sheer animalistic hunger. You had been hungry your entire life, deprived of the simplest pleasures and there he was, ignoring all your lackness. You failed to think of a motive for his actions, but you decided that you utterly didn't care. To feel seen like that was enough of a reason for you.

His tongue pushed into your mouth, exploring every inch with a neediness that surprises even him. You gripped at his shirt's collar as his hands tangled in your hair, tightly, almost afraid you'd disappear. Neither of you recognized your own actions, everything was far too new for you to know how to act properly, losing yourself in each other, consumed by the unique, addicting taste of your kisses and the heat building between you. The sizzling, almost bothersome feeling in your core, combined with the intensity of his kiss left you feeling lightheaded. He pulls away, reluctantly, squeezing his eyes shut, as if refraining from doing something. You rest your forehead against his. Uneven breaths mingle together as you had your eyes on him, waiting for the final blow, when he would look back at you. “Let me in,” he croaked. “I wanna be yours.”

Don't.

“You deserve so much more than this. Than what I'm able to offer you,” you whisper in a ragged breath, closing your eyes, hands now softly holding his head.

“I'll take anything you are.”

You winced, a helpless crease finding its way between your brows. “You don't get it, do you? I can't. I can't do this to you. I don't know how to do this.”

He softened, hands never leaving your skin and eyes never leaving yours. “You don't have to know anything. I don't know it either. I just wanna be yours tonight.”

Silence.

“Is it because of him?”

You promptly retorted. “No. It's not because of him.”

“From now on, it's me.”

Spencer crashed his lips to yours, barely giving you time to let his words sink in. Seemingly trying to convey his emotions, his willingness to beg for you to let him in, his devotion to be yours in that moment. Brushing your fear of not getting him to stay, you gave in, too blinded by the sheer strength of the burning within you. Spencer kissed you deeper as you slid your tongue inside his mouth, ravishing and relishing in the taste of him. A small moan broke through you when he gripped your tighter, leading you to the nearest surface — conveniently, the bed. Spencer barely had time to take in his surroundings when he got there, too busy with you and the strong pull between the two of you, but his body unconsciously and seemingly knew exactly where to take yours.

You had now entered a land reserved for only the two of you. You looked at him, softly placing you on the bed, kissing all over you, as if you were something worth looking at, worth worshipping. The tears streamed down your face freely, and he kissed each of them as they bloomed again. “Let it all out. I'm here.”

Intertwining your fingers on the nape of his neck, adjusting so that he was between your legs, you looked at him intently while he lowered the straps of your cami top, eyes never leaving yours, lips caressing your collarbone gently. The action made you shiver, and you were under his trance, taking whatever he wanted to give you, signaling over and over that you allowed him to be yours, just like he asked to be. In hindsight, he was making you his.

Gingerly, you leaned up to reach his jawline, kissing and nipping at the soft skin, trying to find an outlet for all the overwhelming feelings and fire inside you. He moaned softly, basking in the feeling of being marked so gently, already satisfied with the mere thought that he would have something of yours to remember. It was when you were undoing his shirt, not so accidentally brushing your fingertips against his fiery skin that a wave of pleasure, embedded with a persistent feeling of guilt, crawled its way into your thoughts. You were like a helpless being caught between the fight of two violent ends, and you found that you loved it. You loved being at their mercy. You loved being at his mercy.

Quickly getting rid of your top, Spencer leaned even lower, brushing his skin against yours, which elicited a series of goosebumps to erupt on your skin. You clenched your hands after retreating them from his body, desperately trying to find something that could ground you instead of feeling everything all at once. He was overwhelming, and he had barely touched you. “I never knew I could feel like this,” you breathed out, unable to keep the truth from him any further when he skimmed his fingertips against your ribs, touching with the most desperate of delicacies.

Grinding against you, he whispered, rushed, “Do you feel how much I want you? I see you and I want you. Let me in.”

Spencer's words, albeit simple, were hitting many unreached places within you. Without breaking eye contact and a bit clumsily, you two got rid of the remnants of your clothes, baring yourselves to each other in more ways than one. Spencer, still accommodated between your legs, eased himself so easily into you, making you hold on tightly to his arms, you two both letting out strangled noises at the feeling. You, beneath him, around him, enveloping his length in the most pleasant wet warmth, sucking him in, gripping, squeezing, never letting him go. A broken sob erupted as he mumbled, “I missed you so much.”

You could barely find your voice, too lost in the sense of him on top of you. The taste, the sight, the smell of him inebriated you like no drug ever could. “Ah—I missed you too,” you whimpered. “You… have no idea.”

“Show me, then.”

Desperately, you pulled him in for another searing kiss, trying to convey how much his absence had made you feel, how guilty you felt by putting what it felt then like an unnecessary distance between the two of you. Trying to get closer, impossibly closer than you ever had been before. The sensations were shattering, and you found that you didn't want to be put together again. No, you were gladly ruined for the rest of your life. Scratches down his back, bites on his lower lip and an endless stream of whimpers left your lips complemented the exhilarating experience as he watched how you reacted to him.

Lowering your gaze to where your bodies met, you were met with an exquisite sight, how he pulled away just to shove his cock back inside you making you dizzy as he had his way with you. Following your line of sight, Spencer moaned as he saw the mess between you two, how his skin began to stick to yours as your arousal glimmered on his skin. Fully sheathed again, you cried out, “There's—mmmm—so much of you in me.”

“Will you remember me?” He asked, resuming his thrusts, violently shaken by your words. He wanted to give you all of him.

Struggling to speak, your entire body trembling with the force of his strokes, you stuttered, “I could never forget you.”

His hips halt their movements. He asks, pointedly, with a stark gaze that burned its memory into your very soul, "Say you'll remember," he whimpered with a small sigh. It was difficult to tell if it was from neediness, impatience, frustration or anything else.

It was not the time for semantics, but you smiled despite yourself as the tears started to to steadily roll down your cheeks, and you replied with a shaky breath, "I'll remember you forever."

Spencer pushed in again, swallowing the strangled moan that left your lips as he kissed you intensely and your tears kissed his cheek as well. Your bodies embraced one another, as if they needed each other to exist. The moon and the sea. You tried to hold on to him, hands curling against the skin of his back and legs circling around his waist. Spencer, on the other hand, had a desperate hold on your waist, which would probably lead to faint marks of his fingers. You found that you didn't care, the astounding feeling of him against you, so forcefully and simultaneously lovingly, could use all the memories to tell you later it had been real. That you had been yours as much as you had been his that night.

The pleasure building within you was new, almost scary given its force to shake everything inside. Spencer was equally reeling, trying to prolong the moment as much as he could, too caught up on the existence of you to let it go anytime soon. With a mewl of his name, you let go, pleasure coursing through your veins and spreading through your body like being bathed by the sultriness of your moment together. The fever reached your heart, and with tearful eyes, you watched him as he released inside of you, eyes dazedly searching yours and his lips singing your name like a prayer.

On top of you, in that place of sheer veneration, your bodies tangled together like an abstract painting. Neither you or him made mention to move, too content in the feeling of sticking to the other.

"I'm not leaving,” he muttered after a while, nuzzling your neck.

"Spencer..."

"I'm not leaving. You'll wake up in the morning and I'll be here.”

—

Tonight, you aren't watching strangers from the windows of your office nor from the ones in your studio apartment. Instead, you are walking home with Spencer, hand holding hand, a firm, fierce, steady grip that never faltered.

You now exist, hearing your name being called several times a day. And so does he, the one proudly uttering said name, whenever he gets the chance. A small, simple reminder that you belong together.

dividers by @cafekitsune <3

520 notes · View notes

nomorezerocomments · 3 months ago

Text

No More Zero Comments Project

Hi! Here's a big masterpost for everything you need to know about this project!

The No More Zero Comments (NM0C) Project is dedicated to reducing the number of fics on AO3 with no comments. This is a multifandom community effort with very few rules which you can very easily undertake alone, but hey, why not join us?

The goal is simple: find fics with no comments, read them and leave the author a comment. If you want, you can go out and find fics on your own, but we also have a handy spreadsheet full of fics for you to browse!

You can find the spreadsheet here. There are tonnes of different fandoms to choose from. It will be updated regularly with new fics, so check back as often as you like.

Do you have a fic with zero comments? You can submit it here to be added to the spreadsheet. There is no limit to how many you can submit, and no limits on what you can submit. Any fandom, any category, any rating, no matter how old it is. Yes, even explicit fics. We aren't picky around here. You can also submit other people's fics if you wish.

All I ask is, if you submit your own fics, try and comment on some too! Balance, equality, etc.

The only real rule for submissions is no AI. This blog is vehemently anti-AI and will not accept any fics that use it. EDIT 16/06/25: There are now two more rules - no Harry Potter fics (fuck jkr) and no fics less than a week old.

If you read a fic from the spreadsheet, please let me know here so I can remove the fic from the spreadsheet. If you see a fic on the spreadsheet that has a comment, don't fret. I'll get around to removing it soon. Admin's timezone is GMT and I'm most active in the evenings.

Have a question? Feel free to ask!

A few more bits and pieces of information under the cut!

Who runs this blog?

That'd be me, Izak, better known as @lightningzombie! I run this blog alone for now. And yes, I did put my own fics into the spreadsheet. I put it up to a vote and people said I could!

Why did you decide to do this?

Frustration with the lack of comments on my fics and the death of comment culture in general. Bewilderment when I saw a fic that had 1200 kudos and no comments. The joy that leaving 100 comments and receiving 20+ during the Febuwhump commentfest brought me. Boredom. Many reasons!

Is there a prize/competition?

Nope! No incentives whatsoever. Just the joy of fan fiction, of commenting, and community spirit.

Will you do events?

Yes, I plan to! I'm not sure what yet, though.

"I don't know how to comment!"

Yes, you do. "I like this" is a comment. "How dare you do that to [insert blorbo here]" is a comment. "<3" is a comment. "KAJSDAKSDHJ WHYYYYY????" is a comment. "I am rapidly approaching your location" is a comment. Just be kind!

How long will it take me to get a comment?

Dunno. Some people get them within minutes, some hours, some days. Depends on many things. Be patient!

I submitted something but it hasn't been added or removed

I run this blog and the spreadsheet completely alone and manually. Any submissions will be handled as and when i have time. Be patient with me, I'll get to it!

Happy commenting! <3

#nomorezerocomments

672 notes · View notes

miodiodavinci · 1 year ago

Text

here please enjoy the full collection (yuu doesn't get a caption because i was running out of time BUT i did desperately need to share my overwhelming joy upon realizing that i would get to eat creme brulee and shabu shabu with my partner the following day w)

and. of course. the ibuprofen saga w

and have a secret bonus scapped face under the cut w

twitter gets the official promo for the alternate facial expressions, but tumblr gets the funny little image macros i made while i was working on them w

#miodoodledavinci #vocaloid kyo #vocaloid yuu #vocaloid wil #zola project #feel free to use these or make your own honestly w #i have nothing but love for these dumb meme edits w #also i think these are fun because you can see the fact that these were drawn with the pencil tool #and later run through clip's smoothing filter #so it would be easier to clean up lines and keep lines a consistent width #without having to deal with half pixels and blurriness and whatnot w #highly recommend ! ! ! !#i did the same thing for the monster cover art and it worked out great w #you do want to do a little over painting after to smooth out any choppiness or wiggliness left over but #i like doing that anyway so w #lmao w

357 notes · View notes

folkling · 2 years ago

Text

Windbrook Save 2.0 (In collaboration with @cowboycid and @bobnewbie)- Feat. a family by @oshinsimss

DISCLAIMER: While this is a CC free save file, it is pack and kit heavy. To give more context, this save utilizes ALL EPs, GPs, and SPs (except My First Pets) as well as ALL KITS (except Bust The Dust and Poolside Splash) While you may not own every pack or kit that I used, the save file is still playable. Everything missing will be substituted.

What's new in 2.0

Willow Creek has new homes, rentals, and one new retail lot

Newcrest has been built (restaurant, gym, retail, and generic lots)

Magnolia Promenade has been built, while somewhat finished, still needs work

Every lot that's finished (including commercial) and families have descriptions, stories, jobs, etcetera

New townies from @simsontherope and @cowplant-snacks

Families from @bobnewbie

A special family, The Westfalls made exclusively by @oshinsimss

Special collaboration with @cowboycid

Other worlds are still empty, I do plan on building new worlds

SCREENSHOTS AND MORE INFO BELOW

SPECIAL THANKS

First and foremost I want to thank my good good friend @cowboycid for collaborating with me on this project. I'm so happy we met when we did because I was starting to lose light. You inspired me to keep going, and for that I appreciate you DOWN. You're a real one sis, no tea. Hugs and kisses for ever. I also want to thank @bobnewbie for coming through with families. You don't understand just how life saving they were. I didn't get a chance to use all of them, and my original concept for the save fell through due to time constraints, but I'm thankful to have had access to the diverse array of families you made for the save. A huge thank you to @oshinsimss for taking the time to create a beautiful family, The Westfalls, exclusively for Windbrook 2.0, I love them so much. Also a big thank you to @cowplant-snacks and @simsontherope for their townies. Without them, the townies would just be... ugh, you know. So, thank you for having them available on the gallery. I also want to thank @anthonydaydreamer for just showing up for me through this whole process. Like, you just get it boo! Hugs and kisses! Finally a quick apology to those I intended on sending preview copies of the save. Time was not on my side near the end, things took more time than I thought. Honestly, I needed to get this project off my computer ASAP. I really hope you guys understand. Big hugs and kisses. Thank you everyone for all the kind words and support over these past few months, your words kept me going, even if I didn't feel I had anymore left to give. This save is a love letter to you all, the simblr community.

Thank you, honestly, truly.

*terrain replacement in screenshots by K-hippie, you don’t need it, it’s just for screenshots + updated download link to include The Westfalls made by @oshinsimss for Windbrook 2.0 - please find more info here*

*updated download as of 10/11/23*

Download (SIMFILESHARE)

TOU: Don't upload any part of this save to any platform without explicit permission, thank you.

#windbrook save file #ts4 save file #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 save file #thesims4

5K notes · View notes

eicsferrari · 6 months ago

Text

annoyance - cs55 smau pt2

summary: you don't like carlos but now he's a williams driver and you have to see a lot more of him

a/n: in case you don't know the finalissima is a football match between the winners of the copa america and uefa european championship. the finalissima 2025 will be between argentina and spain. but now apparently it might be played in 2026 ?? which i didn't know when i started this so let's just pretend for the plot thank u

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3

masterlist

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

2025

Instagram

williamsracing & carlossainz55: 2025, the fight starts now👊🏼

view all comments

carlossainz55: Let's go team!! 💪🌶️

user5: vamos carlitosss

user3: ready to wear blue💙

user9: we will miss franco ♡liked by yourusername

user4: yn took the picture but didn't like the post we stan a petty queen🔥

✧

♡liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, alex_albon & others

williamsracing: 2025 team

📷: yourusername

view all comments

user1: user4 she liked this one

user4: only bc of alex

✧

♡liked by francocolapinto, landonorris, carlossainz55 & others

yourusername: new year, i have a good feeling about this one

view all comments

user7: she's my favorite non-wag🤍

yourfriend1: 3rd picture, is there wine on the bag?

yourusername: you know me too well🍷

landonorris: i'm still waiting for those photography tips you promised me🤨

yourusername: once the season starts and only if you buy me food

user2: are they flirting???

yourusername: i finally convince you guys i'm not dating franco and you are already trying to get me involved with someone else pls free me😭😭

user8: carlos in the likes👀👀

✧

williamsracing: help us decide

view all comments

alex_albon: carlex for the win

yourusername: i like bonsai

carlossainz55: i prefer carbon

yourusername: ok? make your own comment

yourusername: also why would you prefer carbon?

carlossainz55: idk i just do and we can call our fans carbonara

williamsracing: we agree carlossainz55 carbon it is💙

yourusername: williamsracing betrayal 💔

✧

Text

y/n: in a scale from 1 to 10, how bad would it be if i quit??

y/n: i can live off franco

your friend: why would you quit don't be ridiculous

your friend: also franco might have less money than you do, it's not a great plan

y/n: i'm convinced carlos thinks i only got this job because of franco and not because of my talent

your friend: did he say that?

y/n: well no

your friend: then?

your friend: cause i honestly still don't understand why you dislike him so much

y/n: okay so when i was at franco's first race i got lost and asked him for directions

y/n: but when i said i was going to williams he asked if i was with franco

y/n: implying i was with franco you know, which already annoyed me

y/n: and then he walked me for a bit, asked me what i do and when i said photographer he said "that's great!"

y/n: but in a sarcastic way?? like it is just a dumb little hobby and he was mocking me

your friend: how do you know?

y/n: body language idkkkk

y/: and then someone called him and he just left me there !!! still lost might i add

your friend: so let me see if i understand correctly

your friend: you met this man at his work place. he helped you while he could, tried to make small talk, then got called for work and now you hate him bc of "body language idkkk"?

y/n: when you put it like that i sound insane

your friend: it is insane babe🤍

y/n: i can't explain it he just sounded condescending

your friend: were you maybe (and just maybe) projecting some of your own fears onto the conversation?

your friends: and all of the things you assume he thinks are the things you are afraid people might think or haters are saying online?

y/n: ...maybe

your friend: do you have any real reason to believe he thinks all those disgusting things??

y/n: ...

y/n: not really

your friend: and don't you think that maybe, since you are working together, the best thing might be to give him another chance? unless proven otherwise?

y/n: ugh i it when you get rational and make sense

your friend: someone has to‼️

✧

Text

lando: hi yn! just confirming our plans for tonight

lando: also carlos will join us, do u mind?

y/n: hi lando!! tonight it is

y/n: and no, i don't mind

lando: great cause i wasn't sure

lando: see you in a bit

✧

Instagram

landonorris posted a story

caption: i bought her food AND drinks

tagged: yourusername & carlossainz55

replies

↪ user5: omg carlos and yn, war is over????

↪user7: carlandooo

↪francocolapinto: she didn't murder him????

landonorris: worst, i'm almost sure i was third wheeling

francocolapinto: the plot thickens👀

✧

landonorris: photography lessons

view all comments

user3: photographer lando>>

user6: yn is so prettyyy ♡liked by carlossainz55

user8: carlos i see you 👀👀👀

user7: call me crazy but yn and carlos would make a great couple

user9: that's insane get help 🤍

yourusername: these look good, clearly you had the best teacher💪

landonorris: debatable

carlossainz55: ignoralo, sigue enojado que hablaramos español para que no nos entendiera [ignore him, he's still angry we talked in spanish so he wouldn't understand]

landonorris: jokes on you i can translate here👊🏼

✧

Text

franco: so, how did it go?

y/n: surprisingly really good

y/n: and it was fun to speak spanish in front of lando he was PISSED

franco: and with carlos? he's still alive which i'm surprised

y/n: i have to admit i might have been a little quick to judge him...

franco: i told you, he's a cool guy

y/n: yes i guess

franco: you guess?

franco: cause a little bird told me you two hit it off

y/n: forget carlos, i'm going to kill lando

✧

yourusername has started following carlossainz55

✧

♡liked by carlossainz55, francocolapinto, landonorris & others

yourusername: call me maybe

- yourfriend1

francocolapinto: para quién estás beboteando? [who are you trying to look good for?]

yourusername: you are too annoying for someone currently unemployed

francocolapinto: ouch😔

user3: franco what do you know??

landonorris: you look so pretty tonight yn

yourusername: flattery will get you nowhere mister

landonorris: please don't kill me i'm sorry😭

user4: what is going on let us innnnn

user5: she started following carlos and then posted this welcome back demi lovato following henry cavill

user7: she's crying for attention 🙄🙄 desperate behavior →carlossainz55 has blocked this user

user7: carlos blocked me????

user5: deserved

yourfriend1: i love you, you are so hot

yourusername: let's run away together

yourfriend1: deal 🤝🏼

✧

Text

carlos: hola, is this y/n?

carlos: i'm carlos

carlos: you gave me your number the other day

y/n: hola!

y/n: yes it's me

y/n: i'm glad you texted me

y/n: i didn't want to do this with lando there but i wanted to apologize for my behavior towards you

y/n: i might have misjudge some things on our first interaction

y/n: but still that doesn't justify my behavior so i'm sorry

carlos: i had a feeling you weren't a big fan of me but i wasn't sure what i had done lol

carlos: but don't worry about it, all is forgiven

carlos: i just wanted to say i had a great time hanging out

y/n: me too!!

carlos: now i'm curious, what annoyed you that day?

y/n: it's going to sound dumb...

y/n: but when you asked me about franco and me i thought you were undermining my job

carlos: i would never

carlos: i think you are incredibly talented and hard working, you earned this place

carlos: and since we are confessing things

carlos: i was asking about you and franco with the intention of finding out if you were single

y/n: oh

carlos: so, are you watching la finalissima tonight?

y/n: yess franco is coming over to watch it together, you?

carlos: i'm going to watch it with some friends

carlos: i have an idea, wanna make a bet?

y/n: mmm it depends

carlos: if spain wins you have to go on a date with me

y/n: you sound really confident

y/n: and if argentina wins?

carlos: i have to dress like a chili?

y/n: oh you are on

✧

yourusername: listos para lo que venga🇦🇷🤍 [ready for whatever happens]

view all comments

user10: confíen, tengo a los jugadores españoles en el freezer🕯️🕯️

user5: will this break my yn x carlos family?

francocolapinto: don't tell me, we finally got them to be civil😭

anyataylorjoy: vamos argentina🇦🇷🇦🇷 ♡liked by author

✧

carlossainz55 posted a new story

caption: i really need spain to win😉

replies

↪yourusername: mm i wonder why

carlossainz55: 🙈🙈

✧

Text

y/n: hey

carlos: hey everything alright? game is still in halftime

y/n: i know

y/n: but about that date

y/n: tomorrow?

carlos: si❤️

carlos: no puedo esperar [i can't wait]

542 notes · View notes

pinkmoontaco · 6 months ago

Text

It all started at a Set || KMG Pt.1

Pairing: Actor-Idol Mingyu x Actress-Idol Reader Genre: Fluff, Idol romance Summary: This story is a heartwarming slow-burn romance between Mingyu and Y/N, a senior idol. It begins with them being cast as co-stars in a drama where their contrasting personalities—Mingyu’s vibrant, outgoing nature and Y/N’s reserved, composed demeanor—become the catalyst for an unexpected connection. Throughout their journey, they face professional challenges, emotional conflicts, and growing feelings for one another. Author's Note: This is the second story of my series, "It All Started..." As I was writing, the story evolved into something much bigger than I initially imagined, so I decided to divide it into three parts to give it the attention and depth it deserves. To everyone who has supported my series so far, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your encouragement and feedback have been a driving force behind my writing, and I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on this part of the story. Stay tuned, because there’s so much more to come, and I promise the journey will only get more exciting from here. Thank you for being part of this adventure with me—I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed creating it!

If you have any requests for any member or any other groups feel free to do so

M.list Part one _ Part two _ Part three

Mingyu wasn’t sure what prompted him to accept the role this time. At first, it seemed like any other offer—another chance to showcase a different side of himself. But something about the script resonated with him on a deeper level.

The character's struggle to balance vulnerability and strength mirrored his own challenges in navigating fame. He felt an unspoken connection to the story, as if it was calling him to confront parts of himself, he had kept hidden.

Perhaps that’s why, despite his initial doubts, he agreed to take the leap. Maybe it was the persistent urging of his members, maybe it was his own curiosity, or maybe, just maybe, it was the script that had managed to tug at something deep within him. Either way, he found himself on the set of "Between Us," his first lead role in a drama, both nervous and excited.

The buzz around the project had been immediate, not just because of Mingyu but because of his co-star. Y/N, a senior idol, had been cast as the female lead. She was a name that carried weight in the industry—the leader of her group, a revered idol with an aura of mystery. Known for her icy demeanor and guarded nature, she seemed to embody mystery and restraint, creating an intriguing contrast to Mingyu’s radiant, extroverted charm. While her reserved nature drew admiration, it also set the stage for a fascinating interplay with Mingyu’s infectious energy, sparking curiosity about how their opposite temperaments might evolve together. It was a pairing that intrigued fans and critics alike.

When they met for the first table read, Mingyu was struck by how composed she was. She greeted him with a polite nod, her expression unreadable. Mingyu, ever the extrovert, tried to break the ice with a joke.

“Looks like we’re going to be spending a lot of time together,” he said, his signature grin in place. “I hope you’re ready for my bad jokes.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile playing at her lips. “I’ll brace myself,” she replied coolly before turning her attention to the script.

From that moment on, their interactions were polite but distant. On set, Mingyu would try to engage her in conversation, but Y/N kept her responses short. It wasn’t that she was rude; she just seemed... guarded. Mingyu couldn’t help but be intrigued. What was she hiding behind that composed facade?

As the weeks went by, they began filming scenes that required emotional depth and vulnerability. The plot of "Between Us" revolved around two people who initially clashed but slowly fell in love as they unraveled each other’s secrets. The parallels between the characters and their real-life dynamics didn’t escape Mingyu.

One evening, after a particularly intense scene, Mingyu found Y/N sitting alone by the set, her gaze fixed on the horizon. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the scene.

“Hey,” Mingyu said, approaching cautiously. “You okay?”

Y/N glanced at him, her expression softening slightly. “I’m fine. Just... thinking.”

Mingyu sat down beside her, leaving a respectful distance between them. “You were amazing in that scene,” he said sincerely. “I felt like I was watching your character come to life.”

She looked at him, surprise flickering in her eyes. “Thank you. You did well too.”

It was the first time she’d offered him a genuine compliment, and Mingyu felt a small thrill of accomplishment. They sat in silence for a while, watching the sky change colors.

“Do you ever get tired?” Y/N asked suddenly. “Of being... this?”

Mingyu frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Of always being expected to be perfect. To smile, to perform, to never let your guard down,” she explained, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu thought for a moment before replying. “Sometimes. But I think it’s okay to not be perfect. People connect with us because of our flaws, not despite them.”

Y/N looked at him, her expression unreadable once more. But something shifted that day. She began to open up, little by little. Mingyu learned that behind her icy exterior was someone who cared deeply about her members, someone who carried the weight of leadership with grace but also with a heavy heart.

The rest of the cast and crew began to notice the change in their dynamic. During breaks, they often saw Mingyu and Y/N sharing quiet conversations or laughing at inside jokes. One day, a crew member walked in on Mingyu patiently teaching Y/N a card game to pass the time, his enthusiasm contagious as Y/N, known for her reserved nature, playfully accused him of cheating.

“Cheating? Me?” Mingyu feigned shock, placing a hand on his chest. “I’m wounded, Y/N. Truly.”

“Wounded or not, you’re still losing,” Y/N shot back with a rare grin.

Another time, during a particularly chilly outdoor shoot, a makeup artist caught Mingyu draping his jacket over Y/N’s shoulders without a word, brushing off her protests with a casual, “You’ll catch a cold.”

The director, amused by their growing rapport, once joked, “If you two don’t win Best Couple at the year-end awards, I’ll be writing to the network myself.”

Even the extras started to notice their synergy, with one commenting during lunch, “Their chemistry isn’t just acting—it’s real.” Mingyu’s consistent warmth and Y/N’s subtle but significant thawing became a favorite topic of conversation among the crew, adding a special layer of excitement to the production. The once distant co-stars were now sharing inside jokes, supporting each other through difficult scenes, and even eating meals together during breaks. Mingyu’s patience and warmth had managed to crack Y/N’s walls, and she, in turn, became a grounding presence for him.

The turning point came during a particularly grueling shoot. It was a night scene set in the rain, with both leads expected to deliver emotionally charged performances. As Y/N sprinted down the wet pavement for a pivotal chase sequence, her ankle twisted, sending her collapsing onto the ground mid-scene. The crew froze, and for a moment, the only sound was the rain hammering down. Mingyu, standing nearby, dropped his prop and sprinted to her side.

“Cut!” the director shouted, but Mingyu was already kneeling beside Y/N, his voice tinged with panic. “Are you okay? Does it hurt a lot?”

Y/N tried to sit up, brushing off the mud on her hands. “I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth, though the pain was evident in her eyes.

“No, you’re not,” Mingyu said firmly, his worry overriding his usual easygoing demeanor. He gestured for the on-set medic, his brows furrowed in concern. “You need to rest. This isn’t something to push through.”

Despite her protests, Mingyu carefully helped her to a nearby chair, his hand steady on her arm. His genuine concern was clear, and the crew exchanged knowing glances, murmuring about how protective he had become of her. In that moment, something shifted—not just between their characters, but in their real relationship as well.

The injury had forced Y/N to take it slow, and Mingyu took it upon himself to help her. He’d show up to set early to make sure the path was clear for her crutches, brought her snacks during breaks, and even offered to rehearse lines with her to save her unnecessary movement.

“You’re going to spoil me,” Y/N said one day, watching as Mingyu carefully adjusted her chair.

“Maybe,” Mingyu replied with a grin. “But I don’t mind.”

As “Between us” progressed, the romantic tension between Mingyu and Y/N on-screen began to mirror their growing connection off-screen. Their characters, who started out as strangers, gradually developed a deep emotional bond, with Mingyu’s warmth gradually melting Y/N’s cool exterior.

One evening, during a late-night shoot, the scene called for a quiet, intimate moment at the café. Mingyu’s character, Jae-min, had just confessed his feelings to Y/N’s character, Seo-yeon. The air was thick with tension as their eyes met, both characters hesitant yet longing.

“Are you sure you want this?” Jae-min asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as he reached out to gently touch Seo-yeon’s hand.

Y/N, as Seo-yeon, looked at him, her expression unreadable, before slowly nodding. “I don’t know, but I’m willing to try.”

In the next moment, Jae-min leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips, a gentle but tender kiss filled with the promise of something new. The director yelled “Cut!” immediately after the kiss, but both actors were left momentarily frozen, caught in the vulnerability of the moment.

Mingyu quickly stepped back, awkwardly scratching his head. “Uh, sorry, was that too much?”

Y/N, for the first time in a while, let out a soft laugh, something that startled Mingyu. “No, it was good,” she said quietly, her cheeks flushed. “You just… surprised me, I guess.”

That night, as they wrapped up filming, Mingyu couldn’t stop thinking about how natural the kiss had felt—how it wasn’t just an act but something real that he had experienced with her. Y/N, despite her usually cool demeanor, had shown a glimmer of warmth, and it left Mingyu wondering if the lines between their characters were blurring.

The next scene that stood out was a pivotal moment in the drama, where Jae-min (Mingyu’s character) confesses his love for Seo-yeon (Y/N’s character) during a stormy night. They were supposed to be alone in the café, the rain tapping against the window as Jae-min, drenched from the downpour, walked in to find Seo-yeon sitting by the window, gazing out at the rain.

“Seo-yeon,” Jae-min said, his voice shaking with emotion. “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. You’re the only one who sees me for who I really am.”

Seo-yeon turned to him, her eyes softening but still guarded. “But you know I’m not the person you think I am, right?”

The tension in the room was palpable as Jae-min walked toward her, his every step determined. “I don’t care,” he whispered, his face inches from hers. “I love you.”

The kiss that followed was more passionate, a moment of release for both characters. The scene was so intense that even the crew stayed silent as they filmed. When the director yelled “Cut,” both Mingyu and Y/N stood frozen in their positions, the chemistry between them undeniable.

During a break, Y/N walked off to the side, away from the set, clearly trying to collect herself after the emotional intensity of the kiss. Mingyu, sensing her discomfort, followed her quietly.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asked softly, standing a few feet away.

Y/N paused, looking at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, just… it’s a lot sometimes, you know?” She shrugged. “This role is… difficult for me.”

Mingyu gave her a gentle smile. “You’re doing amazing. I can tell. I know acting can be hard, but you make it look effortless.”

Y/N looked at him, her walls slowly starting to crack. “Thanks, Mingyu,” she said quietly, her tone sincere.

As she turned back to the set, Mingyu watched her, his heart unexpectedly racing. They might have started out as strangers, but something was beginning to stir between them, something neither of them had anticipated.

One of the final scenes in the drama was another intimate moment between Jae-min and Seo-yeon. The two characters had gone through their fair share of struggles, and in this scene, they finally gave in to their feelings for one another. The script called for a tender, lingering kiss under the moonlight, where Jae-min pulls Seo-yeon into his arms as they both acknowledge their deep connection.

As the cameras rolled, the chemistry between Mingyu and Y/N was undeniable. The kiss was gentle at first, with both characters hesitant, but as the scene progressed, their passion deepened. Their lips met in a slow, sweet kiss that was both vulnerable and full of longing, capturing the emotional weight of everything their characters had been through.

When the director finally called “Cut,” the entire set seemed to hold its breath. Y/N, who had usually kept a distance from Mingyu, seemed to soften in his arms, the connection between them palpable even off-camera.

During the next break, Mingyu found himself sitting next to Y/N, who had become noticeably more relaxed around him since their first interactions. They were both exhausted from the intense filming, but the mood between them was no longer cold.

“I didn’t know acting could be like this,” Mingyu admitted, his voice low. “It’s… more than just saying lines. It feels real.”

Y/N looked at him thoughtfully. “Yeah, it’s like… you let yourself be vulnerable for a moment.” She paused, then added, “You’re a good actor, Mingyu.”

Her words caught him off guard. He smiled, not able to hide his feelings anymore. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

There was a comfortable silence between them, and for the first time, Mingyu felt a genuine sense of connection to Y/N—not just as his co-star, but as someone who understood the depth of their roles and the emotions they had shared through their characters.

One memorable day, they filmed a scene where their characters shared their first kiss under a canopy of stars. The setup was breathtaking—fairy lights hanging from the trees, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves, and the soft strumming of a guitar playing in the background.

Between takes, Mingyu leaned over with a grin. “They really went all out for this, huh?”

Y/N glanced around, her lips twitching into a rare smile. “It’s beautiful. Almost makes you forget we’ve been here for hours.”

The scene required them to hold hands, exchange lingering gazes, and lean into a kiss that felt as natural as breathing. When the director finally called, “Cut!” he looked up from the monitor and clapped. “That was perfect! The chemistry was off the charts.”

Another day, they filmed a playful sequence where their characters spent an afternoon at a seaside carnival. From riding the Ferris wheel to playing ring toss, the scenes were filled with laughter and lighthearted moments. While filming a shot where Mingyu’s character won a giant stuffed bear for Y/N’s character, he jokingly handed it to her and said, “This is the closest you’ll get to me spoiling you in real life.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “I’ll cherish it forever,” she quipped, hugging the bear dramatically.

The most challenging yet rewarding scene to film came toward the end of the drama, where their characters finally confessed their feelings after a heated argument. The emotions ran high, and even the crew found themselves holding their breath as Mingyu and Y/N brought the raw vulnerability of their characters to life. By the time the director called cut, there was a moment of stunned silence before the set erupted into applause.

“You really outdid yourselves,” the director said, visibly moved. “This is the kind of performance that stays with people.”

Through these scenes, their bond grew stronger. Whether it was the stolen glances that felt too real or the way they naturally gravitated toward each other during breaks, it was clear to everyone that something special was blooming between them.

483 notes · View notes

deniable-masterpiece · 7 months ago

Text

fusillade | dad!chris evans x son!reader

a/n — okay, i want to start by saying that this has FARTS. if you don’t like that, please, do not read‼️ scrolling is free, let people live, hate will be deleted and not tolerated, etc etc. i waited posting this for the longest time because i haven’t written anything like this before officially and it’s a relatively new kinky exploration. can be reader as any era of Chris, i just imagined him with some sort of beard and dilf look to him since he’s a father in this

summary — Chris tries to enjoy his day off but it doesn’t start the way he expected. The downsides of raising a teenage son lead to some weird resolutions of conflict.

warnings — age gap, incest, farts, face riding, face sitting (chris sitting on reader). 18+ only.

words — 5.8k

oh also, in case you missed it this has farts farts farts farts farts farts farts aaaaaaand some incest oh and farts too. enjoy!

Monday mornings weren’t fun for anyone. The harsh sunlight passing through anyone’s window is the sign of a long day to come, the first light of many fires that start and would continue to burn throughout the week. Even your blackout curtains couldn’t change today’s sunshine. Everything seemed to be in order, the sun had risen, your alarms had gone off at every time they were supposed to, without fail, at their projected volume. The only thing that was out of place in the typical morning routine was you. Your blaring alarms made no difference because they didn’t keep the key part of your morning routine—you—in the loop. Still in dreamland, you enjoyed the wondrous world.

But on the other side of the thin walls in your home, your dad had been rudely woken up on his day off to the sound of your alarm. For fifteen minutes, it rang continuously. It would fade out occasionally, but every five or so minutes, it would return to its loudest volume. And just when he thought it was over, your next alarm would start the cycle over again. It was a closed loop that you had yet to close. He tried giving you the benefit of the doubt. No one wakes up to their first alarm, not when they’re an active night owl, and they usually don’t wake up to their second. Chris knew that your most active hours of the night were past eleven p.m. On the few times that he did stay up late—usually on the eve of his days off—he heard you take multiple trips to the bathroom from inside his own bedroom until he heard the water from the sink running. The last time you used the sink, it would always run longer than the other times because you were usually doing your nightly routine and needed a steady flow. He always laughed at your antics, because they were something he would have to figure out on his own since you would never tell him. For all the times you called him an “old man,” his hearing never really let him down.

Now he wish it had, he wished his hearing loss would accelerate until he became deaf in the same way that the coffee he sipped at would accelerate his process of waking up. He thought that, maybe, just maybe, getting up early on his day off would be the key to enjoying it. He could drown out your sound with last night’s football game or catch up on that show you kept pestering him to watch. He was already enjoying the brief time in which he didn’t have to wear any clothes beyond a pair of boxers. The cool air tickled his body, unfamiliar but not unknowing of the feeling of being able to walk around while freely exposed to the cool air flowing through the house. He felt the need to wear more clothes that he normally might because you got easily distracted by him, more than two dudes living in one empty house should be making you feel. And you tended to stare or fail to get to the point when he was standing before you in his boxers. Chris naively thought it might be because you’re intimidated by his physique, that you haven’t quite reached the same levels of “man” yet and seeing him be so confident with what he naturally had was making you feel insecure. So, for his boy’s sake, he covered up. Being this close to naked was just one thing to enjoy about being awake before you, and maybe there would be more to come, Chris hoped. But no. The annoyingly vibrant alarm tone that echoed from your room was impossible to escape from. Even in the kitchen, down the carpeted stairs and anything in the thick flooring couldn’t stop him from hearing it. The sound itself wasn’t as loud as when he was laying in bed, but it had gotten on his nerves for daring to repeat again. The sonorous, pulse-like ringing matched his quickening heartbeat. It made his coffee-stained teeth grit, he felt like he could easily squeeze the ceramic mug in his hands to bits at the first chime of another alarm going off. One that would last for another fifteen minutes, one that was bound to play again after he waited for this successive round to end.

He swished the last of his typical dark, bitter roast around his mouth before swallowing it, letting it be the warmth soothing his throat that he so desperately wanted to let bile rise from. His stomach flipped with his anger, he was ready to say some unsavory things to you about needing to be more responsible. Even while barefoot, his steps were heavy and hit the carpeted stairs hard. Maybe that would wake you up, but he didn’t know if anything could. All he knew was that your alarm needed to be silenced, and somehow, he could wake you up another way.

On his way to your room, heading to the third door on the left, he saw the door to the bathroom right before it. His stomach twisted and rumbled, already feeling the motions of coffee running through him, but anger made it to shore first and crashed into the front of his head. That damn alarm needed to be turned off.

Chris came into your room wearing a pair of plaid boxers. Deep, navy blue, a size too small for him but that’s how everything seemed to fit even if it was a size up. His figure seemed to show no matter what he wore. His boxers were far from loose, being weighed down by his overfilled pouch for his crotch in the front, the single-button fly keeping the fabric from splitting down the sewn-in gap and letting his girth and balls spill out. And in the back, his oceanic boxers had their limits and Chris’ plump ass bobbed in them. They constantly gave him a wedgie, the fabric digging deep into his crack and his thighs being mostly exposed since the boxers couldn’t even fall low enough, functioning more like boxer-briefs as a result. Grey and black stripes formed squares over the deep blue color, little white squares filling in the middle of each square the intersectional lines made. The lines curving over his cheeks, they were like a netted stress ball. One squeeze and all that fat would just slip through your fingers.

Your hands were the perfect shape to cup something as round and doughy as his ass, sleeping face-up with both arms splayed out in irregularly polar directions. At the bend of your elbows, one pointed towards the headboard above you and the other reached out to your phone. Chris would have taken a picture of that moment—your head turned away from the incoming sunshine and nestled into your pillow, something he would have thought put Sleeping Beauty to shame… while you would have blabbered on about how out of it you look, quick to use the excuse that you can’t control how you sleep to justify why you look so “horrible.” But that word wouldn’t have been the first to come to your dad’s mind when he looked at you. Quickly, his anger towards you goes from a raging sea to a slowly ebbing current. You’re just his baby boy, he could never stay mad at you for getting your beauty sleep! Your phone on the other hand… that nuisance still remained wretched and horrible. It was the cause of all your horrible behavior, like a friend who’s a bad influence, except there is no one else to blame when it caters to you. Chris would have to do the same thing he does to people who harm his boy.

He picked up your phone off the night stand next to your bed. It has been vibrating so much that it was halfway sticking off the stand and would have fallen during the next alarm.

Chris’ thumb hovered over the snooze button. Maybe if he put an irregular break in your alarm’s incessant blaring, it would throw your mind off schedule. An untimed noise would no doubt work in startling you awake. But, he was already in your room. He might as well do it himself, even if he expected you to act like an adult by now and get yourself up and ready. As much as it pained him to admit, this was one of the things he wished you didn’t need him for anymore. He knew that he would be greeted with an annoyed “Daaaaad” and complaining from your end instead of just thanking him for doing what you couldn’t. No, he could already hear the whining in his head that you were “just about to get up,” and that he “never gave you a chance to prove him wrong.”

He hit the stop button, setting that alarm in stone as being done and over with. But what if there were more? He had just sat through two painfully long alarms that managed to wake him up but not you, and then a third from downstairs. If he was going to leave you here, he might as well enjoy a moment of peace and quiet by turning off the rest. Chris went to unlock it and was met with the screen asking for a passcode with a set of numbers appearing, showing that he needed to input a six-digit code to get into your phone. He could have just taken your phone and turned them off as they went, but he knew that if you woke up and saw that your phone was gone, he would have to deal with the complaints about that. Maybe you’d accuse him of snooping, and if he could guess your passcode, he might do it just to see what his boy is up to.

He would have to figure out what the password is, though. Six digits… Chris took a moment to think about it before trying birthdays. Those were common, he used your birth year as his own passcode when you berated him for leaving it without one for the longest time. Maybe you used your own birthday as your password, but it wouldn’t prove to be that easy. The numbers appeared at the top of the screen as he entered them in and just as he finished putting them in, they shook from side to side in error, like the device was shaking its head at him for being so wrong. By nature, he immediately went to the next one in his mind—his. 061381, that was the passcode! He was shocked that you had been so subtly kind to him by making his birthday the password, you remembered.

The lock screen faded to the back as rows and rows of apps and folders cluttered and congregated in front of it. He snickered at some of the folder names being things like “dumb shit” and one folder simply named: “fuck.” His eyes landed on the clock app after a quick scan of your rough home screen—it was nothing like his, his remained the stock layout of all the apps that came with his phone, all still in their original spots with the varying addition of the few apps he needed like banking and the one for the video doorbell installed outside. Clicking on it, he saw you had alarms scheduled until eight in the morning, and it was only six. He turned the seven between now and then off and was ready to set your phone back down when a notification appeared at the top of the screen.

The icon had a little white bird, one of the social medias that Chris wasn’t too familiar with. He would have ignored it since you had already gotten a text from your friend asking about a homework assignment due later today and a notification from some mobile game that was begging you to come back and play it, and he didn’t pay any mind to those. But for this one, the headline grabbed his attention. The first of a bad storm, making this young guy smell my DAD FARTS.

Surely, he couldn’t be reading that right.

While the notification loitered at the top of the screen, Chris’ thumb moved up to it. He clicked it without a second thought, and it redirected him to the app it was sent by. The layout of the app wasn’t anything Chris knew his way around, but thankfully it took him directly to the page and not the home screen. There was only one thing he could do, and it was simple enough: scroll. At the very top was the video with the caption that drew his attention. Chris clicked on the thumbnail of the video, which showed a man squatting over another guy’s face who had an open mouth just below his hole. Chris would have been concerned about waking you up, but if you slept through your alarms, you wouldn’t wake up to a video where the only sound were farts and moans. The video picked up in the moment that the thumbnail showed, the dominant man lowered his ass onto the guys tongue and started farting. He was telling him all of these commanding things that Chris, even as your dad, would never say as a parent. Slowly, the dominant man started replacing his words with grunting and making a plethora of satisfied noises. The man under him was younger, his responses sounded higher pitched and more innocent as the older man’s ass let out farts that were as deep as his voice. The sheer power dynamic was something unlike he’d ever seen. Sure, he had seen his fair share of porn on VHS tapes, and saw guys dominating girls, but it was never to this degree. In his tight little boxers, his dick started to rise.

As he looked deeper into the page, it was clear. The entire page was full of posts about farting and other forms of ass worship, but the caption above each video had one common theme: they were all about dads dominating their sons. It was always a pair of thick cheeks swiping a smaller boy’s head between them. Each video had a caption lingering above it from the point of view of the son or the father, about not telling their mother or being glad that she left so this faux dad and his son could have uninterrupted bonding time. And you were into it, almost every video was liked and saved in some way as indicated by the illuminated heart and blue bookmark at the bottom of each video. His tent only got bigger, pushing the already-cramped pouch to it’s limit. The fly of his boxers held together with one button was parted to show his length underneath. If it weren’t for that button, his girth would have filled the entire space and possibly even slipped through the slit.

But as his dick sprung up, his brows furrowed. Why didn’t you ever tell him about this?

Sure, Chris blatantly fit your niche for sexual gratification but you didn’t want him. Your father. This was just a fantasy you had—probably one of many conjured in your horny head—and he wasn’t asking you to jerk off with him by any means, but just to be communicative. He would like to know the type of guys you’ll eventually bring home—or at the very least, he wanted to be able to give you the freedom to talk about a hot guy passing the two of you on the street. To say “he’s cute,” and your dad could agree. But where did the prospect of guys even come from? His son only ever talked to him about girls. Chris expressed that he would be more than happy to support his son if he was interested in anything other than that, but you insisted that girls were your only priority. But that was a few years ago… and any time he tried to pry and get you to open up to him about your crushes, you seemed avoidant of the topic. Avoidant of him for a reason that was slowly becoming more clear.

There was only one way to handle it. Face the problem head-on. If you weren’t going to open up then he would have to make the first move, even if it was unexpected and possibly unrequited on your part. You partially deserved it—well, mostly, but Chris loved you too much to actually hold you to your faults. He tried to see things in a good light; your alarms were waking him up earlier so that you could spend more time with him, your secrecy and privacy were something to ignore and push past like any good parent knows how to do. You were his perfect little boy who could do no wrong, so this wasn’t a punishment or a rude awakening like you had given him; it was a feast.

So, instead of a slap to the face to awaken you, he did something much more soft and caring. All of those videos he looked at, the so-called “Dad” of each would usually hover over the guy under him or outright sit on his face. To do that, he had to make sure you were on your back, which you already were, his hand gripped your chin and fixed your head turned off to the side, making it so that you were looking directly up to the ceiling. And lastly, he peeled back your sheets and crumpled them up on the opposite side of the bed from where he stood. To his surprise, you slept without anything on at all. The boy he had taught to wear jammies and set and example by wearing loose-hanging fleece pants and a tank top to bed every night had found it more comfortable to wear nothing. To be so vulnerable, it was another side of you that he had never seen.

Chris leaned down and placed his hand on your chest. It stayed there for a second, too stiff to move because if it does go anywhere, it will move down your medial and end up groping areas he wasn’t ready to touch. He let out a sigh and softly spoke to you, “Get up, champ. Come on.”

Chris wanted to you wake up in that moment with his voice, for his irrational parental decisions to be put to rest by you finally fluttering your pretty mother-like eyes open. His stomach started to swirl with anxiety. This wouldn’t mean anything, right? It was payback with a bit of pleasure. You got your mother’s eyes, the same ones Chris stared into and fell in love with. The same shade that leaned into her inherited features and gave him ‘fuck me’ eyes countless times, the same ones she bestowed to you. The ones he saw looking back at him when he looked at the best achievement in his life—his baby boy. But you were lazy, sleeping in, hardly being the boy your dad talked so highly of at family gatherings. You were barely the boy he recognized anymore… when did you start to act like this? What would he say to them now? Would he talk about how bad you were or about his own bad behavior? What if you told them all that he did, after he did this, and he lost you? Well, he better just enjoy you before you leave him anyways, whether that’s for college or another man.

For now, you couldn’t get away from him if he was holding you down. This was like a warm bear hug when your kid leaves for college, it’s like a hug after they get their license and nearly get hit for the first time and you’re less worried about the car and more worried about your bairn. Chris repeated every excuse he could think of and welcomed the new ones that entered the fray to justify what he was about to do. He could never admit that he liked what was going to happen next. No, the tent pitched in his boxers by his painfully hard dick—harder than it had ever been—was because of the porn, not because of his son. It couldn’t be.

Chris placed his bare foot on the edge of your bed, he then propelled himself up and was able to stand next to your sleeping figure with both feet. He had to hunch down a bit so that his head wouldn’t hit the ceiling. Then, he stepped over you so that his feet were on either side of you. His weight shifting on your bed and the creaking of your mattress frame still wasn’t enough to breech through whatever your sleepy head was dreaming about. He tried to align himself with his heel starting at about your shoulders and his big toe ending just shy of your elbow, his front half had the perfect outlook to your room from the highest possible angle. Everything you would never grow into could be seen from up there, including the dust on your ceiling fan.

His mind spiraled as it twisted. The Earth still lingered closely to the sun, so the warm days that were soon to turn cold still needed a reprieve. But both things still orbited around one perfect little center, and in this case, it was you. Chris planted his ass squarely over your face. At first, he hovered. Holding his breath while he felt yours hit against the back of his legs. Each soft breath… so carefree. In minutes, he’d have you fighting for the same air you were about to be cut off from. He hated to admit, even if it was just to himself, that the idea nearly made his boxers prematurely soaking wet.

Chris’ ass was big, and sealed off your face completely when he sat on you. He could feel how your face only impacted the space between his doughy cheeks, and he could feel the fat on his ass—one that’s all smackable plush with no tension to stop any ripples. He didn’t even have to wedge them apart with his hands for them to be wide enough! He fell into one of those “don’t look down” situations where, if he did see how he completely smothered his boy’s face with his ass, he probably would have shot up and made sure you were okay. But you wanted this, this force that he couldn’t give you in every day life. Why else would you turn to porn instead of your dad?

You woke up when the entire weight of your dad was resting on you. He made sure to not absolutely crush you—but who knows, maybe you would like that—since he was well built and covered a lot of your upper body with his thick thighs and ass alone. Now, parking it back on your face, he might actually suffocate you.

“Mmm,” you groaned, your body reflexively trying to stretch and turn the muscles that had been still for hours. In just a few brief seconds, it immediately knew what it was under—your dad’s full moon. “Dad?”

All of your noise was filtered through layers of fat, barely escaping around the mound on top of you. You were talking directly into his clothed ass, eyes staring up the run of his back. Chris could feel your hot saliva and breath already seeping through the fabric and to his skin. He shuddered, but remained cool. Chris reached down and palmed at his tented erection and pressed his other hand on your chest to shift his weight forward to his knees and the supporting hand. He slid that hand down your body and moved the rest of the covers out of the way that he had missed on his first go-around. He wanted to see you, imagining your legs kick while under him. While he was far from that point, you were already chubbing up. You were a bit smaller than your dad and his crown jewels—and he was being generous with ‘small’ because you’re his boy—but it was more reassuring for him because it meant that you were enjoying it.

He was wearing boxers. Something you hadn’t seen him do in a while. The last time you caught him this stripped down was about a month ago when he was preparing to take a shower and had to cross the hall in a pair of his briefs to grab the shampoo he left in his bag. You’re pretty sure he left it in his luggage after a work trip, but that quick glimpse was enough to stop you and your heart for a second as you were heading to your room. You picked up that he might just have been adding extra layers because you felt intimidated by him—by his muscles, his generally wide and commanding physique, and his voice and tone. Little does he know that you don’t want to become a man like him. You want a man like him, a man that makes you feel inferior to yourself.

“Sh-sh-sh,” he made the noise softly with his mouth. “Daddy’s here, and he’s got breakfast.”

Chris sat up straight again after leaning down to reveal your dick, putting all of his weight back on your face with his ass. As if on cue, he let out a relaxed sigh and the first of many farts sputtered out.

A muffled—but expected—protest squeaked out from under him, much quieter than his fart, “Dad!”

Your dad didn’t expect to feel his dick beading with pre-cum as soon as it had. Each moment his dick throbbed hard shifted it up in his boxers ever so slightly and caused the cum to smear against the fabric it was sheathed in. It didn’t help that he occasionally groped his tent, but he had to stop or else he would cum too soon. Hearing your voice from so far away, so devoid of the bratty pedestal you put yourself on, put your father on a power trip.

“Call it a truce. I accept you and you get a little slap on the wrist for making your daddy cranky.” Chris lifted himself up again, moving back this time so he was closer to your headboard. The hand palming his tent lightly smacked the side of your face that wasn’t covered by skin and blue fabric, and you could feel the gloppy pre-cum at the ends of his finger tips. He must have been aching under those boxers to the point that they were wet on the outside. While his tent hung over your face now that he had moved back, it didn’t stay like that for long. You got a break from smelling his farts to smell his equally intoxicating musk before being gassed up by his farts again just moments later.

“It stinks,” you whined underneath his hefty ass. Your hands could have worked their way up to push him off, but he would be too heavy. His ass would be too fat, easy to grab but too hard to hold.

“Good, I know you like it like that. When it’s all… in your face.” Maybe he should keep his dirty talk to the short side of things, but Chris was still learning. Another fart came rolling out that lasted well over ten seconds and made him sigh in relief. He accompanied it after with a stern, “Sniff it, boy."

The smell wafted up to Chris’ nose. You’re right—it stinks. The addition of coffee made his bowels usher out the stirrings of last night’s dinner even quicker. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone all in on a savory dinner last night, because each blast from his ass smelled like that dish left out in the sun for days.

Chris moved again—he couldn’t tell if it was because he couldn’t run the risk of actually hurting you or if he was almost too jittery from this newfound pleasure to know what to make of it. He went from sitting back to kneeling over your chest, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers clawing up the small of his back, desperate to not slip down and show his ass. Still not enough room for you to escape from under him, but you really didn’t want to, and Chris knew that. All of his clothes bore the burden of having to stretch themselves to fit around his fat cheeks. He gave his tenuously stretched boxers a break by pushing them down past his ass and to his thick thighs. It wasn’t so easy in the front, since he had to push his painfully stiff erection down with the waistband, keeping it that way until they went below his tip. It sprung up, and just the movement against the still air in the room was enough friction to put Chris over the edge. He left his boxers stretched out between his thighs, stretching them even more when he moved back in your direction.

“These are gonna be even worse, boy.” Chris teased. He sat back on your face again. The only difference is that the warmth of skin-to-skin contact was more noticeable. Your dad’s unwashed ass funk was more noticeable than it had been in boxers that mingled the appalling scent of ass sweat and musk with the floral detergent he used to launder the clothes. Your nose was positioned directly to his hole, and that reeked the worst. It smelled rancid and filled your lungs with rank gas, you could feel it quiver at the cold. The tight ring twitched and tightened—the clear sign that Chris was straining to push the next flurry of gas out.

You dreaded what his unfiltered farts would smell like when they didn’t have a thread count to work through. Each fart had no warning as they came out, like a gun that didn’t need to be cocked before firing. The blasts were rapid-fire, shot out with such force that it made it easier to sniff them up as they came out directly against your nose.

He was right this time; they were much worse without some kind of necessary passthrough. The intensity and delivery of them was stronger, thicker as your nose immediately felt the gas burn as it entered your body and traveled down to your nervous system. Each intake made your breathing feel raspy, making his longer farts hard to sniff up in one draw. You had to huff—Jesus, you had to pant—to really get the full effect of some of his farts.

Chris started to welcome a bit of movement into it, making it harder to sniff up all of his gas. Whenever Chris cause a waft of it, he’d move closer and grind harder on your face, but after a few consistent rips with no smell twinging his nose, he would go back to moving back and forth over your face. His hips would thrust forward before rocking back to your forehead, his ass being big enough to not miss a single spot of you.

He parked himself on different parts of your face; your nose when he had to fart, but when he was waiting for the next one to be ready to come out, he moved to your chin and mouth and ordered you to eat him out. He farted in your mouth a few times while you were tonguing his hole, but he laughed it off and just moaned at the feeling of your tongue recoil and mouth twitch in disgust before returning back to his hole. He didn’t really have to check up on your during this, because as long as you were doing what he said, it was enough of a sign to tell him to keep going.

Chris tried to actively avoid his cock during this. The thought running through his head that he was sitting on his son’s face, coupled with a few pumps, might make him cum in a second’s minute. Something told him though that the feeling alone would catch up to him sooner than later, and it did faster than he thought. He wanted to continue, to keep this going, but it wouldn’t be revolutionary if it didn’t break the expected rules. His whole outlook on his son and his sex life had just been changed over the better half of an hour, and this trajectory just felt right.

With a mix falling somewhere between a cry and a moan, Chris shot his load, thick ropes shooting down your torso and his thighs. Some of them nearly made it to your own cock, that’s how hard it made him cum. The occasional spurt landed on your bed in wry sprigs before the short-lived high started to fall, and soon, Chris was sitting on your face. No rhythm, no care, just focused on the post-orgasmic glow of how he felt. It was enough to make him forget that he was sitting on you, letting his full weight rest on you again despite your breathing slowing.

This was supposed to be a punishment, and at this very moment, he had gotten everything he wanted: relief on his day off, worked things out with his son, and he left you hanging when he got up off your face. Chris awkwardly got off of your bed, trying to not accidentally knee you in chest or fall over when he went to stand up, the boxers around his thighs making it a bit difficult to fully use his flexibility to help him. Your cock still stood in the swirl of sheets. He couldn’t deny that you looked so good laid out like that, ready for the taking. He wanted to do more, but it took years to raise you into the man you are. He would turn you into his slut if he hadn’t already, but today was the first step. Chris stepped out of his boxers, reaching down to pick them up and giving you a view of his fat ass. Now that he wasn’t telling you to not jerk off, your hand was already wrapping around your cock.

“I had a moment to think, and you can jerk off with these.” Chris turned and threw his boxers, they landed on your face and you got his with the immediately smell that had just left your nose. It wasn’t as strong, but it was enough. “Your daddy won’t do everything for you.”

And with that, he left the room to let you get to your business. You savored the fleeting sight of his ass as he walked out, shutting the door like you had always asked him to do whenever he barged in. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t have separate rooms for much longer, though. Waking up would be much easier in the future.

406 notes · View notes

reemaroamstyria · 7 months ago

Text

Sylvari Sims Set: A Guild Wars 2 Conversion - Fan Project

(Featuring A Conversion of FantasyRogue's PlantSim Skin)

6 Hairs

Blooming Rose: Matches skintone. Leaf Overlay in Eyeshadow, Eyeliner, and Blush categories, Petal Overlay in Facepaint category. Overlays work with color sliders.

Lotus Buns: Matches Skintone. Flower Overlay in Eyeshadow, Eyeliner, and Blush Categories, Leaf Overlay in Facepaint category. Overlays work with color sliders. Works with most hats.

Leaf Ponytail: 24 Swatches, optional file for 22 additional recolors, requires main file. Works with some hats, Ponytail sticks out. Compatible with the Color Sliders Mod.

Side Vines: 24 Swatches, optional file for 22 additional recolors. Works with most hats. Compatible with the Color Sliders Mod.

Swirling Branch: 24 Swatches, optional file for 24 additional recolors, requires main file. Compatible with the Color Sliders Mod.

Caithe: 23 Swatches, optional file for 24 additional recolors, requires main file. Compatible with the Color Sliders Mod.

3 Ears

Matches skintone. Tattoo - Upper Back or Glasses Categories. Requires a preset that removes the ears, such as Cmar's No Ears Preset.

Glasses Version 1 - works with all skin colors, uses same texture space as tattoo. (New/Updated version.)

Glasses Version 2 - only works with most cc skin colors, uses a different texture space (use this alongside a cc skin color if you experience glitching. Original/Old version.)

6 Faces

Matches skintone. Skin detail - mouth crease category. Full face and half face (no mouth) swatches.

1 Full Body Skin: A Conversion of FantasyRogue's Run Through The Jungle - A TS3 Plantsim Default

Matches skintone. Tattoo - Upper Chest. Full and half opacity swatches. Censored for Tumblr, clip art leaf not included (lol).

DOWNLOAD: SimsFileShare (no ads)

The zipped file contains all the individual files- just extract to your mods folder, do not use with the merged file.

If you use my cc for your own sims, Sylvari or not, I'd love to see them so feel free to tag me!

Also please let me know if you encounter any issues with this! This is one of my first released cc, but hopefully I didn't miss anything.

Disclaimer: This is a Fan Project not sponsored by or affiliated with ArenaNet. Assets belong to © ArenaNet LLC and I make no profit from this work.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #ts4 gw2 #ts4 cc #ts4 plantsim cc #plantsim #sylvari #ts4

431 notes · View notes

simspaghetti · 2 months ago

Text

SIMS 3: THE GLOBETROTTER CHALLENGE

Original Sims 4 Challenge here by moonfi - this is just an adaptation for TS3!

I love the idea of the original globetrotter challenge by @moonfi but the original rules are for TS4 and are specifically themed around those worlds, so I decided to make my own version adapted for the TS3 worlds / gameplay, ofc all credit goes to moonfi for the original idea :)

Credit also goes to @florydaax for the store world legacy & @horusmenhosetix for the HIX Completionist Challenge - I took some inspo from both of those to come up with the goals for each location

This is my first attempt at creating a challenge for public release so if anyone has any feedback / suggestions pls lmk

Feel free to tag me or use #TS3Globetrotter if you try this out I'd love to see how your gameplay goes - no obligation to do that though! I'm just curious lol :)

Your sim is an adventurer visiting many places around the globe… Begin your explorations in the challenge below…

[Google Docs Version HERE - I reccomend reading the challenge on there & making a personal copy for gameplay!]

There are two ways to play this challenge, the original way is intended to be played with one sim. If you're going this route it’s best to turn the aging off or set it to long - However, there is also an option to play this challenge generationally if you wish (just treat each ‘round’ as a new generation or span 2 rounds across each generation etc. It’s up to you how you want to work that out!)

The challenge is NOT about accumulating money, but enjoying the gameplay. Each round has its own main LTW and a few other goals to fulfil, but it rarely has a specific career your sim must follow - that’s because the focus should be on exploring the world around them rather than spending a lot of time in rabbitholes

This challenge uses a combination of store worlds & EP worlds, but I’ve also included few alternative custom worlds for each round you can use instead if you’d prefer - if you want to take creative liberty and choose your own world you’d rather use for a round that’s totally fine! Just make sure it fits in with the correct vibe & theme for that round / generation

You can play these rounds in whatever order you want to, but I’ve presented them in a similar order to the original challenge w. each backstory following on from the last - you can ignore or alter the backstories as you wish to suit your gamplay ofc!

THE RULES:

MOD RECCOMENDATIONS: This challenge can be played without mods, but it is definitely enhanced by their inclusion, so here are some suggestions… NRAAS Traveller will allow your sim to travel to any world you have installed, and retain relationships w. sims from previous trips once they move worlds NRAAS Tempest will allow you to take control over the world climate, which is recommended for full immersion - I also suggest checking out Pudding Parade’s Tempest project to find some premade settings for several types of different climates you can just place in your save! UPDATE: Pudding Parade has also made some preset suggestions for this challenge here! You might also want to check out my mod / CC reccomendation list for off-grid living :)

Create a sim (any age, but recommended to start with a YA), and once you move them to the first location give them a tent and set the funds to 0–50 simoleons (0 for a more challenging start) Cheats bar: testingcheatsenabled TRUE // familyfunds [insert household name] 0

Main LTWs must be completed during their round, the other goals must be completed at least halfway before moving to a new location You have a choice of several LTWs to complete for each round - take your pick of one of these, it’s not expected for you to do more than one If you’re only playing with one sim for the duration of the challenge, you can either buy a LTR to change your sims lifetime wish for each round, or go and change it manually in CAS through cheats

Your sim cannot travel to places outside the world you’re currently playing in (unless specified by that round)

They can apply for a job once they have: a tent (or a bed), a campfire (or a stove), a fridge, a toilet, a shower, a sink, a counter, a chair. they must quit their job when you move to the next location. your sim can make money by selling things they found and created from their family / personal inventory.

You can purchase (or ‘rent’ for the purposes of storytelling) a house in a world once you have the funds to do so - just know you’ll have to leave it behind when you move, so don’t get too invested!

When moving to a new location your sim can take one piece of furniture and their tent. you should sell the rest. all the collectibles or souvenirs your sim found and put in their inventory travel with them as well - just no big bits of furniture like sofas, beds etc.

In order to move worlds, your sim needs to have 20,000 simoleons in the bank - you can cheat this money if you need to, but you must reset your family funds back to normal once they’re in the next world.

If your sim forms relationships or has kids in a previous world, they can either abandon / leave them behind completely or bring them along to the next world - it’s totally up to you!

As an additional challenge, aim to master the Photography skill & take scenic photos of every town your sim visits

NEW RULE: Your sim can swap out one of their traits each round to be better suited for the gameplay - I've included some trait suggestions, but it's up to you what you decide to go with

ROUND 1: THE ARCTIC ⛰️🌠

WORLD REC: Aurora Skies / Saaqartoq

Recently packing up all their belongings and hopping on a plane from their hometown of Sunset Valley, your sim wishes to explore the world. Their first stop is to experience the most unique wonderful natural anomalies to be found in the cold arctic ocean. Where better to start their adventures than in The Arctic at the very top of the world?

Seasonal Recommendation: Set the town to a cold temperature climate using NRAAS Tempest OR disable Summer

Trait Rec: Eccentric / Computer Whiz / Handy / Loves the Cold / Genius

LTW: ‘The Tinkerer’ / ‘Become a Creature-Robot Cross-Breeder’ / ‘Scientific Specialist’ / ‘Master Forager’ (CUSTOM)

Other Goals:

Complete the following Skill Challenges: Logic: ‘Celestial Explorer’ Collecting: ‘Metal Collector’ & ‘Gem Collector’ Science: ‘Experienced Experimentalist’

Obtain the 'Forbidden Fruit' seed

Reach level 7 of the ‘Logic’, ‘Science’ & ‘Handiness’ Skills

Reach level 3 of the ‘Fishing’ skill

Get the ‘My Best Friend’ Lifetime Reward

Swim in the hot springs / cold ocean for at least 1 hour

Go ice skating (on a rink OR on a natural body of water)

Take a romantic ride with another sim in a hot air balloon

Woohoo in the ‘science lab’ lot OR in a hot air balloon

Gain the ‘polar bear club’ moodlet from swimming in natural water during winter

‘Watch the stars’ or stargaze through a telescope for at least 2 hours during an aurora event (or between 12-4AM if you’re not playing in a world w. Auroras enabled)

ROUND 2: SLICE OF PARADISE 🛟🏝️

WORLD REC: Isla Paradiso / Sunlit Tides / Mariner's Reach / Isla Escudo

Having spent a good chunk of time immersing themselves in the scientific community, your sim feels like they’ve achieved enough to deserve a nice holiday. They set out to a warm island town to relax. They just want to chill, run away from the cold and sink their toes into the ocean. They’ve dipped their toes into fishing before, and would now like to fully immerse themselves in the deep blue sea and see what kind of things they can find.

Note: If your world doesn’t have dive lots or seashell spawners, I highly recommend placing some down so you can complete all the challenges for this round!

Seasonal Recommendation: Set the town to a hot temperature climate using NRAAS Tempest OR disable all seasons other than Summer

Trait Rec: Loves the Heat / Loves to Swim / Sailor / Angler

LTW: ‘Presenting the Perfect Private Aquarium’ / ‘Deep Sea Diver’ / ‘Pond Whisperer’ (CUSTOM)

Other Goals:

Complete the following Skill Challenges: Fishing: ‘Ametur Ichthyologist’ & ‘Commercial Fisherman’ Scuba Diving: ‘Pearl Diver’ & ‘Savvy Snorkeler’

Master the ‘Fishing’ & ‘Scuba Diving’ Skills

Meet & become friends (or lovers) with a mermaid

Get a sunburn & a suntan (the tan can be real or from a machine)

Get the ‘Immune to Heat’ Lifetime Reward

Dive in all your world’s dive lots

Buy a boat

Fight a shark

Collect all seashells

Sunbathe in one long session on the beach for 4 hours

Go scuba diving & swim in the ocean for at least 3 hours

Woohoo in an underwater cave

Obtain the 'Mr. Marnier' Gnome

ROUND 3: DEEP IN THE WOODS 🌲🦉

WORLD REC: Hidden Springs / Moonlight Falls / Great Bear / Ainali / Eriu Fe

Your sim has grown tired of the endless heat on the islands and wants to move somewhere cooler again. The smell of pine trees and a more rustic way of life has been calling their name for some time now. They wish to admire nature, sing with the birds, get their hands into the rich soil to grow some interesting plants and go hiking in the woods.

Seasonal Recommendation: Leave all seasons on default OR just disable snow

Trait Rec: Gatherer / Green Thumb / Loves the Outdoors / Night Owl / Vegetarian / Animal Lover

LTW: ‘The Perfect Garden’ / ‘The Zoologist’ / ‘Greener Gardens’ / ‘First Class Farmer’ / ‘Master Forager’ (CUSTOM)

Other Goals:

Complete the following Skill Challenges: Gardening: ‘Master Planter’ & ‘Botanical Boss’ Collecting: ‘Butterfly Collector’, ‘Firefly Collector’ & ‘Beetle Collector’

Get the ‘Super Green Thumb’ & ‘Collection Helper’ Lifetime Rewards (if you don’t have collection helper already)

Master the ‘Gardening’ Skill

Complete the ‘Omni Plant’ opportunity Chain (info here)

Own at least 2 minor pets (lizards, snakes, rodents or birds - or a combo of these)

Drink from the ‘fountain of youth’ & ‘wish for youth’ (you may need to place it down in edit town)

Plant every plant from the Grocery Store

Pick all the wildflower types

Observe all wild animals that come onto your home lot

Befriend a deer

Go hiking all day (walk to some community park lots, preferably up a mountain) and sleep out under the stars in a sleeping bag on a community lot at least 2x

Cook potatoes, garlic, onion, tomatoes, fish and roast marshmallows over a campfire at least once

Woohoo in a tent

Consume all the herb types (in whatever way you want) and feel their moodlet effects

ROUND 4: THE DAZZLING DESERT 🍸🌞

WORLD REC: Lucky Palms / Strangetown (V1) / Strangetown (V2) / Wild Wild West

Living in the woods was a great way for your sim to recharge their batteries and take it slow for a while, but now they’re ready for a bit more excitement! They find themselves among the vibrant desert sands, hoping to let loose, party a little bit, and also venture a little bit further out to do some archaeological exploration in a new landscape

Seasonal Recommendation: Set the town to a hot / desert temperature climate using NRAAS Tempest OR disable all seasons other than Summer

Trait Rec: Loves The Heat / Lucky / Party Animal / Daredevil / Adventurous

LTW: ‘Private Museum’ / ‘Master Romancer’ / ‘Lifestyle of the Rich & Famous’ / ‘Vocal Legend’

Other Goals:

Complete the following Skill Challenges: Charisma: ‘Celebrity’ Mixology: ‘Cool Creator’

Reach level 7 of the ‘Mixology’, ‘Gambling’ & ‘Charisma’ Skills

Go to the casino at least 10x

Make 3 wishes at the wishing well

Host 5 parties

Set off 10 fireworks

Visit & drink at bars on at least 10 different occasions

Obtain a ‘Dusty old lamp’ and make a wish of your choosing

Get the ‘Learned Relic Hunter’ Lifetime Reward

Visit Al Simhara and get a maximum visa level for Egypt

Dig at 10 dig spots in Al Simhara

Find at least 30 relics

Analyse every relic your sim finds

Woohoo in a sarcophagus OR a hot tub

ROUND 5: STONE-BAKED SUMMER 🍕🍾

WORLD REC: Monte Vista / Veronese Island / Lago Simiore / Isla Escudo

All that partying has left your sim wanting to take it a bit more slowly and go back into nature. They’re feeling drawn to beautiful rolling hills, olive trees and cobblestoned streets. All this tasty produce the land is known for has made them want to try their hand at cooking and nectar making, after all, if they really want to experience the culture they need to learn to eat and drink like a local too! They’re also beginning to get inspired by the gorgeous scenery and want to try their hand at some art.

Seasonal Recommendation: Set the town to a warm / Mediterranean temperature climate using NRAAS Tempest OR disable Winter

Trait Rec: Artistic / Natural Cook / Savvy Sculptor / Virtuoso

LTW: ‘Culinary Librarian’ / ‘Celebrated 5-Star Chef’ / ‘Bottomless Nectar Cellar’ / ‘Master of The Arts’

Other Goals:

Complete the following Skill Challenges: Cooking: ‘Star Chef’, ‘World-Class Chef’ & ‘Menu Maven’ Painting: ‘Brushmaster’ Sculpting: ‘Chiselmaster’ & ‘Master Sculptor’

Reach level 7 of the Cooking, Nectar Making & Painting OR Sculpting Skills

Get the ‘Born to Cook’ Lifetime Reward

Obtain every type of grape from all the worlds

Collect and learn all the recipes

Travel to Champs Les Sims, learn the Nectar-Making Skill and purchase at least 1 Nectar Maker for your lot

Make every type of meal on the wood-fire oven

Purchase a wood-fire oven for your home lot

Create at least 1 perfect-quality nectar

Visit the ‘Art Gallery’ & ‘Museum’ lots in town

Sell §5000 worth of paintings &/ sculptures

Get up to level 5 in an instrument of your choice

‘Play for tips’ for at least 3 hours on a community lot

ROUND 6: SPOOKS IN THE SHADOWS 🕸️🪦

WORLD REC: Midnight Hollow / Moonlight Falls (if not used already in round 3) / Bridgeport / Halloween Hideaway / Haunted Valley II

All that cooking, nectar making and painting was very relaxing, but your sim is ready for one more final, exciting adventure now before settling down for good. They’ve been hearing rumours about strange supernatural happenings in a distant corner of the world, and they’re keen to check out what’s going on for themselves. They find themselves in a dark place where mysticism and strange happenings seem to lurk around every corner…

Seasonal Recommendation: Leave as is or use NRAAS Tempest to create a more rainy / foggy & slightly colder climate

Trait Rec: Neurotic / Perceptive / Coward / Brooding / Supernatural Fan / Supernatural Skeptic / Night Owl

LTW: ‘Paranormal Profiteer’ / ‘Alchemy Artisan’ / ‘Leader of the Pack’ / ‘Mystic Healer’ / ‘Turn The Town’ / ‘Zombie Master’

Other Goals:

Complete the following Skill Challenges: Alchemy: ‘Master Alchemist’ Collecting: ‘Mushroom Collector’

Master the ‘Alchemy’ Skill

Become a supernatural being of your choosing (fairy, werewolf, witch or vampire)

Get the ‘Alpha Wolf’ OR ‘Magic Hands’ OR ‘Immortal’ OR ‘King / Queen of the Fae’ Lifetime Reward depending on your supernatural type

Visit the ‘Graveyard’ lot and hang out / sleep there for at least 1x from 8pm-8am

Get into a fight with a supernatural being during a full moon

Donate plasma to a vampire

Turn 3 sims into supernatural beings (either your supernatural type by biting them or another type by using elixirs)

Woohoo in a fairy house OR magical wardrobe

Create a playable ghost OR resurrect a ghost using Ambrosia

Have a child with said ghost or previously-a-ghost sim

ROUND 7: SETTLING IN THE COUNTRYSIDE 🌾🐮

WORLD REC: Appaloosa Plains / Dragon Valley / Riverview / Constant Springs / Winchester Farming Community / Country Love

After delving into just about every corner of simnation, your sim is beginning to feel like it’s time to hang up their walking boots and settle down in the good life with their family. But their work isn’t done just yet, they have grand aspirations of owning their very own farm, surrounded by a brood of animals and maybe even a few more kids. If they’re gonna plant roots somewhere, they’re gonna do it to the fullest extent!

Seasonal Recommendation: Leave as is

Trait Rec: Nurturing / Hopeless Romantic / Animal Lover / Cat Person / Dog Person / Equestrian / Family-Oriented / Loves the Outdoors

LTW: ‘The Animal Rescuer’ / ‘The Fairy Tale Finder’ / ‘The Ark Builder’ / ‘The Jockey’ / ‘Surrounded by Family’ / ‘Country Caretaker’ (CUSTOM)

Other Goals:

Complete the following Skill Challenges: Riding: ‘Equestrian Champion’ (HORSE) Racing: ‘Endurance Equine’

Master the ‘Horse Riding’ Skill

Own a horse who masters the ‘Jumping’ & ‘Racing’ Skills

Get the ‘Raised by Wolves’ Lifetime Reward

Own a cat OR dog who masters the ‘Hunting’ Skill

Own at least 4 animals total (at least 1 of each type)

Woohoo in a haystack

Get married

Have at least 3 children total

Teach children all their toddler skills

Do homework with children at least 1x per child

Be ‘best friends’ with all of your children

(OPTIONAL) ROUND 8: TO THE MOON 🌜🛸

WORLD REC: Lunar Lakes / Moon Base Delta / Cronor / Mermaidia

Your sim thought their adventures were over now that they’ve explored everything this planet has to offer… That was until they were given the opportunity to be one of the first colonisers of a brand-new civilisation on a planet in outer-space. They’ll have to do their fair share of mucking-in, helping the community create new inventions or assisting in the town’s military force to defend from space-invader attacks, but it’s a brand new frontier, and your sim definitely aims to be at the front of it!

Seasonal Recommendation: Use NRAAS Tempest to create a climate where it is usually always the same weather but with more fog & hail OR disable all seasons other than Spring & disable rain (treat hail like meteor showers)

Trait Rec: Eccentric / Handy / Athletic / Brave / Bot Fan / Perfectionist / Workaholic

LTW: ‘Monster Maker’ / ‘Leader of the Free World’ / ‘Perfect Mind, Perfect Body’ / ‘Become an Astronaut’ Other Goals:

Complete the following Skill Challenges: Collecting: ‘Amateur Rock Finder’ & ‘Awesomest Rock Collector in the Universe’ Handiness: ‘Electrician’, ‘Plumber’ & ‘Tinkerer’ Inventing: ‘Scrap Collector’

Master the ‘Inventing’ & ‘Athletic’ Skills

Invent at least 1 simbot

Get the ‘Teleportation Pad’ & ‘Climation Control Unit’ Lifetime Rewards

Get abducted by an alien

Befriend an alien

Have an alien baby OR move in with an alien (you can send the baby back to its homeworld once its born if you want)

Woohoo in a bot workshop, time machine OR jetpack

That's the challenge done! Have fun :D

#TS3 #Sims 3 #Sims 3 Challenge Ruleset #TS3 Challenge #Simblr #TS3Globetrotter #Globetrotter Challenge

300 notes · View notes