#Fresh Lock Packing Machine

[marsons-group]

Smart Seal Packing Machine / Fresh Lock Packing Machine

The Smart Seal Packing Cigarette Machine, developed by the renowned Marsons Group, represents a quantum leap forward in the cigarette packaging industry. With its state-of-the-art technology, this machine ensures swift and precise sealing, eliminating errors and enhancing efficiency. Designed to meet the demands of modern manufacturing, it offers unparalleled speed and accuracy, revolutionizing the way cigarettes are packaged. By streamlining the packaging process, it optimizes productivity and reduces downtime, ultimately delivering superior results. Say goodbye to the old ways of packaging cigarettes and embrace the future with the Smart Seal Packing Cigarette Machine from Marsons Group.

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[satori-runa]

—Sweet as you

Summary: You and Captain Curly share a meal, despite your irritation regards the device that bakes your food.

Tags: Established Relationship, fluff, before the crash

Words: 0,8k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

No matter how many times you stand in the kitchen, Curly would always be amused by the sheer expression of despair on your face. He couldn't lie, it was extremely cute for him to see your brows furrow in irritation and your nose scuffing up slightly.

“You can't tell me that is cooking.” You mumbles, glancing at the device on the counter and the two packs of different ingredients in your hand. “This is more like…dark forbidden witchcraft.”

Being stuck in space, between all these stars, means that there is no fresh food, shops, or delivery services. The crew was certainly stuck with the device that mixes packs to make dishes. And as a former self-claimed chef, you hated it. This wasn’t cooking, and it never would be.

“Food is food.” The Captain chuckled quietly, bringing some tone into his usually exhausted voice. “As long as it works and we don't starve.” He took the packs gently out of your hands and placed them onto their respective spots in the cooking device, watching it close and make some bread.

“Told you, evil witchcraft.” You sighed, crossing your arms as you watched the machine whirr to life, producing something that only barely resembled real food. “I miss actual cooking.” You muttered, leaning against the counter. “You know, where you chop vegetables, sauté things, maybe burn a little garlic by accident.”

Curly smiled, stepping closer to you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “I know,” he said softly, his voice less teasing now. “And I miss seeing you in your element, making something real. But hey, when we get out of here, I might see what I can do to improve this experience for you. Who knows, maybe we can get an actual freezer to store products and a stove.” His eyes softened as he looked at you, the exhaustion of space life momentarily lifting.

You looked up at him, your frustration melting a little under his gentle gaze. “You promise?”

He chuckled, a hand resting lightly on your waist. “Of course. You’re going to make us a feast as soon as we’re planet-side again.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him. “I’ll hold you to that.” The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, and you moved your hands to hold him closer.

Curly pressed a light kiss to your forehead, his hand brushing through your hair. “In the meantime, we’ve got witchcraft bread.” He grinned, reaching for the freshly made loaf. “And the company isn’t so bad either.”

You smiled, resting your head against his chest. “I guess I can live with that.”

You settled at the small table with Curly, the freshly made bread, and some packets of synthetic jam between you. Despite your earlier complaints, the warmth of the meal and the quiet intimacy of the moment made it feel… different. Better. Curly tore off a piece of bread and handed it to you, his eyes soft as he watched you.

You hesitated at first, taking a small bite, expecting the usual bland taste. But somehow, with Curly sitting across from you, smiling like that, it didn’t seem so bad. The bread was warm, and the sweetness of the jam clung to your tongue in a way that felt almost comforting.

“You’re enjoying it.” Curly said, his lips shifting into a grin as he watched your expression soften.

“Maybe just a little.” You admitted, taking another bite. “But it’s definitely not because of the bread.” You smiled at him, feeling the warmth of the moment wrap around you like a blanket.

Curly chuckled, taking a bite himself. But when you noticed a few crumbs clinging to his lips, you reached out instinctively. “You’ve got something…” You murmured, brushing the crumbs off the corner of his mouth with your thumb. His lips quirked at your touch, eyes twinkling.

Before you could pull your hand back, Curly gently caught your wrist, holding it in place. His gaze locked with yours for a moment, soft and teasing, before he slowly leaned forward. His lips pressed against your fingers, and he licked a bit of jam that had smeared onto your skin, his eyes never leaving yours.

A warm flush spread across your cheeks as his lips lingered, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. “Tastes better this way.” He murmured with a playful smile.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, heart fluttering at the way he looked at you, so full of affection. “You’re impossible.” You whispered, feeling the closeness between you like a steady heartbeat.

“Maybe.” He said, still holding your hand gently in his, “But I make the jam taste sweeter, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile never faded as you leaned closer, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah, you do.” You whispered, feeling the warmth of him giving you comfort.

[theonottsbxtch]

BACK TO FRIENDS | OP81

an: this was a request by a friend of mine, well only the song so before you start haring HATE HER NOT ME

wc: 2.7k

OSCAR NEVER SHOULD HAVE LET HER IN.

The champagne from the podium had barely dried on his race suit when she slipped into his hotel room, wearing his old team hoodie like it still belonged to her. Maybe, for a moment, he let himself believe it did. Maybe that was why, when she reached for him, he didn’t pull away.

Now, the early morning light crept through the curtains, soft and unforgiving, illuminating the tangled mess of sheets that no longer held her warmth. She was already standing by the mirror, zipping up her dress with that same detached precision he’d seen too many times before—when she’d pack her bags, when she’d walk away, when she’d pretend this meant nothing.

He propped himself up on one elbow, watching as she fixed her hair, gaze locked on her own reflection rather than him.

"You’re leaving," he said, voice hoarse. It wasn’t a question.

"You knew this didn’t change anything," she murmured, still not turning around. "We agreed."

We agreed. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Because once, there had been no need for agreements between them. Once, she had been his best friend. His only constant in a world that never stopped moving. Now, she wouldn’t even look at him.

"How can you do this whole thing" he said, quieter this time, "best friends in public as if we didn't fuck the night before."

She stilled, just for a moment. A hesitation. But when she finally turned to face him, her expression was unreadable. Indifferent. Like she had already put distance between them, even though she was still standing there.

"It’s just how it has to be, Oscar," she said, as if that was enough. As if those words weren’t a knife in his ribs.

He sat up properly, gripping the sheets to keep his hands from reaching for her. Stupid, really, how after all these years he still wanted to chase after her, even when she always walked away first.

She stepped towards the door, and he knew he could stop her. He had taken impossible corners at impossible speeds—what was one more risk? But he didn’t move. He just watched as she opened the door, stepping into the hallway like she hadn’t just wrecked him all over again.

The door clicked shut behind her.

For the first time in his life, Oscar wasn’t sure if he’d recover from this crash.

He didn’t move for a long time.

The sheets had long gone cold, but he still sat there, fingers curled into the fabric like it could somehow hold onto the night before. As if it could prove it had happened at all. But the only proof left was the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air and the dull ache in his chest.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, shattering the quiet. He forced himself to look at it, already knowing what he’d see.

PR Debrief – 9 AMMedia – 10 AMTeam Briefing – 11:30 AM

Business as usual. No time to dwell. No time to feel.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed the covers aside and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, planting his feet on the carpet. His body protested—aching muscles, bruises from a near-miss in yesterday’s race, exhaustion from weeks of relentless travelling. But none of it compared to the weight pressing against his ribs.

Dragging himself to the bathroom, he barely recognised the man staring back at him in the mirror. Dark circles under his eyes, jaw tense, hair a mess from restless sleep—if he even got any at all. He turned on the tap, splashing cold water over his face, as if it would wake him up from whatever spell she had put him under. But he knew better.

This wasn’t something he could just shake off.

By the time he pulled on his team polo and a fresh pair of jeans, the sun had fully risen, and with it, the world outside came alive. The familiar sound of trolley wheels rolling through the hallway, distant chatter from staff, the low hum of engines being prepped at the circuit down the road. The race weekend was over, but the machine never stopped.

Neither could he.

Still, as he stepped into the corridor, he hesitated. His hand tightened around the door handle, as if half-expecting to see her just outside, waiting for him like she used to. But the hallway was empty.

Of course it was.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Oscar exhaled sharply and made his way towards the lift. He knew how this went. Knew the script by heart.

He’d get through today. He’d put on the easy grin for the cameras, give the sponsors what they wanted, act like nothing was wrong. And when she walked into the paddock, all effortless poise and carefully constructed distance, he’d pretend he wasn’t still watching her. Pretend he hadn’t spent the night memorising the way she felt against him.

Pretend he didn’t want to do it all over again.

The paddock was already buzzing by the time Oscar arrived. Engineers hurried between the garages, mechanics huddled over half-assembled cars, and team personnel weaved through the chaos with clipboards and coffees in hand. It was always the same the day after a race—one team celebrating, another regrouping, everyone already thinking about the next circuit.

Oscar had barely set foot in the hospitality area when he felt the shift in the air. It was subtle—just a few lingering glances, a hushed murmur between two media interns—but he didn’t need to turn around to know why. He felt her before he saw her.

She had arrived.

He stole a glance over his shoulder, and there she was, stepping into the paddock like she belonged there. And in a way, she did.

They had grown up in places like this, back when the paddock smelled more like petrol and sweat than luxury cologne, when the only thing that mattered was who was fastest on track. Back when she was his best friend, before things got complicated.

She looked completely at ease. As if last night had never happened.

Oscar forced himself to look away.

He was halfway through his first coffee when someone from the media team caught up with him.

“Oscar, got a minute?”

He turned, offering a tight-lipped smile. “What’s up?”

“We’re filming some content today for the socials—just a lighthearted thing, some fun clips. And, well… since you and her go way back, we thought it’d be great to get you two together. Bit of nostalgia, childhood friends, all that.”

Oscar felt his jaw tighten. “You want us to film something together?”

“Yeah, nothing serious! Just a little throwback video—maybe some old karting stories, a couple of friendly challenges. Fans love that stuff.”

He hesitated. Every part of him wanted to say no. But then he caught sight of her again, standing by her team’s motorhome, talking to someone like she wasn’t aware of the way his world had tilted off its axis last night.

Fine. If she could act like nothing had happened, so could he.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, plastering on his media-trained smile. “Let’s do it.”

The camera was rolling, and Oscar had no choice but to play along.

They sat side by side in the media pen, a tablet between them as they reacted to old photos—grainy karting pictures, podium shots with oversized trophies, one from a race where she had shoved him off track and he had stormed off in a sulk.

She laughed at that one. “You were such a sore loser.”

He smirked. “Still am.”

It was easy, in a way. The banter, the teasing—it was familiar. A script they had both known since childhood. But underneath it, Oscar felt the strain. Every time their hands brushed, every time she smiled at him like they hadn’t just been tangled up in each other the night before, it chipped away at him.

They filmed a quickfire Q&A next.

“Who was faster in karting?”

“Me,” they said at the same time, then shot each other a look.

“Who was the bigger troublemaker?”

She pointed at him. He pointed at her. The camera crew laughed.

And then, finally—

“Who won your first-ever race together?”

Oscar opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

“I did.” She grinned. “Oscar binned it in the final lap.”

He rolled his eyes. “I had a mechanical issue.”

“That’s what they all say.”

The filming wrapped up soon after. The media team thanked them, and she stood, stretching as if shaking off the whole thing.

Oscar saw his chance.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “Can we talk?”

She barely looked at him. “I’ve got a briefing, first F1 Academy race next week.”

“Two minutes.”

She was already shaking her head, already glancing over her shoulder.

“Please.” The word slipped out before he could stop it.

Something flickered across her face then, something he couldn’t quite place. But she just exhaled softly, offered him a small, almost apologetic smile, and said—

“Not now, Oscar.”

Then she was gone.

And he was left standing there, fists clenched, watching her walk away for the second time in twenty-four hours.

Oscar barely made it to his driver room before the exhaustion hit.

The small space was dimly lit, the hum of the air conditioning the only sound as he dropped onto the leather sofa with a heavy sigh. His head fell back against the cushion, eyes shutting for just a moment. He needed to get his shit together. One more media appearance, a debrief, and then he could disappear for the rest of the evening.

Maybe he’d go for a run. Maybe he’d sit in the simulator until his brain stopped thinking about her. Maybe he’d just stare at the ceiling until it was time to do it all over again before his flight tomorrow morning.

The door swung open with zero warning.

Lando strolled in like he owned the place, a Capri Sun in his hand, oversized McLaren hoodie engulfing him. He was the complete opposite of Oscar in every way—louder, messier, the kind of person who made himself at home wherever he went.

“Jesus Christ,” Lando said around the straw in his mouth, giving Oscar a once-over. “You look like shit.”

Oscar let out a slow breath, tilting his head to the side but not bothering to open his eyes. “Nice to see you too, mate.”

Lando didn’t reply straight away. Instead, he let the silence stretch, the sound of him sipping obnoxiously from the Capri Sun filling the room.

Then, just as Oscar knew he would—

“You saw her last night again, didn’t you?”

Oscar stiffened. “What?”

Lando just stared at him, unimpressed. “Don’t piss about, mate. I’ve known you three years. I know that face.”

Oscar forced a scoff, pushing himself up on the sofa and stretching his arms. “Dunno what you’re on about.”

Lando raised a brow. “Right. So you’re telling me you look that miserable just because of a media debrief?”

“I’m not miserable.”

Lando smirked, taking another sip. “Yeah, and I’m world champion.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face. He should’ve known better than to think he could play it off. Lando had been his teammate since he was twenty, and despite the two-year age gap, he had slotted himself into the role of an unofficial older brother from the very first season.

And older brothers were annoying as fuck.

Lando sighed, finally dropping onto the chair opposite. “Listen, mate. I’m not gonna sit here and give you some deep, emotional speech, because frankly, I can’t be arsed. But this?” He gestured vaguely at Oscar. “You’ve got to sort your head out. I’ve seen you drive through torrential rain, with half your front wing hanging off, and you didn’t look as wrecked as you do right now.”

Oscar stared at the floor, jaw tightening. He knew Lando wasn’t wrong. But knowing it didn’t make it easier.

After a moment, Lando’s tone softened. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

Oscar swallowed. “It’s nothing.”

Lando scoffed. “Yeah? Well, ‘nothing’ is making you look like you’ve just been dumped, mate.”

Oscar let out a dry, bitter laugh. “Can’t get dumped if you were never together in the first place.”

That shut Lando up for a second. The silence hung between them, thick and heavy. Then, after a moment, Lando sighed and leaned back in his chair, tilting his head towards the ceiling.

“Yeah, well. She’s a fucking idiot.”

Oscar blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You heard me.” Lando sat up again, tossing the empty Capri Sun into the bin. “She’s a fucking idiot. And you’re an even bigger one if you keep letting her mess you up like this.”

Oscar didn’t respond. Because what was he supposed to say? That Lando was wrong? That this didn’t mean anything? That she hadn’t wrecked him last night?

They both knew better.

Lando sighed, standing up and stretching his arms. “Anyway. Media pen in twenty. Try not to look like someone ran over your cat, yeah?”

With that, he clapped Oscar on the shoulder and strolled out, leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts and the fading scent of synthetic fruit juice.

Oscar leaned forward, elbows on his knees, dragging his hands down his face.

He needed to pull himself together.

But he wasn’t sure he knew how.

Oscar stayed where he was for a while longer, elbows braced against his knees, staring blankly at the floor. The room was quiet now, but his head wasn’t.

Lando was right—he needed to sort himself out. He was acting like a lovesick idiot, sitting in the dark like some tragic protagonist when he had a job to do. But knowing that didn’t change the way his chest felt too tight, like he’d been winded and hadn’t quite caught his breath since last night.

With a sharp exhale, he pushed himself up off the sofa and ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake it off. It didn’t work.

He checked his phone. Media pen in five minutes. Time to get it together.

The paddock was still busy as he stepped out, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over the tarmac. People moved with purpose—engineers discussing data, team members rushing between garages, journalists hovering near the media zone. He kept his head down, shoving his hands into his pockets as he made his way towards the designated interview area.

And then he saw her.

She was standing near the hospitality suites, laughing at something, her head tilted back slightly. And the guy standing with her—tall, broad, someone from another team’s garage, maybe an engineer—was watching her like she was the only thing in the world worth looking at.

Oscar felt something sharp twist in his stomach.

Jealousy wasn’t an emotion he liked to entertain. He wasn’t that kind of person. But right now, as he watched her smile at someone else like she hadn’t spent the night tangled up with him, he felt it creeping in anyway.

His jaw tightened, but he forced himself to keep walking. He wasn’t going to do this. Wasn’t going to torture himself over something he had no claim to.

But then he noticed it.

The hoodie she was wearing wasn’t hers.

It wasn’t even team-issued.

It was his.

Not just some branded merch with the McLaren logo—one of his actual hoodies, one from his personal collection, from his brand. Faded black, slightly oversized, his driver number printed across the sleeve.

He felt sick.

She had taken it. At some point last night when he wasn’t looking. And now she was standing there, wearing it like it meant nothing, like it wasn’t another knife in his ribs, twisting deeper.

He dragged a hand over his mouth, looking away before he did something stupid, like march over there and demand to know what the hell she thought she was playing at.

Instead, he forced himself to keep walking.

The media pen was waiting. His job was waiting.

And if she wanted to keep wrecking him, she was doing a damn good job of it.

It's not like he could do anything.

After all, he loved her and she tolerated him outside of the track.

the end.

taglist: @dying-inside-but-its-classy @n0vazsq @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @dozyisdead @number-0-iz @curseofhecate @lilorose25 @iamred-iamyellow @iimplicitt @carlossainzapologist @skzvibes-blog

[crystalbeetle888]

‘A Small Accident’

Kili x Reader

After bathing in a seemingly normal hot spring, you are left in rather precarious situation. Though not to fear, Kili is here to help.

Warnings: None

The sun had just begun to set behind the looming mountains on the horizon. The sky painted in hues of pink and orange, cast a golden light on the company of Thorin Oakenshield. The dwarves, tired from their journey potter around camp, setting up for the night. They chatter to one another in their secret language, laughing as they set down their packs and build a fire.

Placing your bag on the outskirts of the clearing, you look around discreetly at the men, seeing if any of them were looking, before taking your knapsack filled with toiletries and clean clothes and taking your leave. It had been at least a week since you had last bathed properly and the whole company had begun to smell like a pile of corpses. The sweat and filth from the horses was irritating your skin, and you didn’t know how much more of this you could take.

Since waking up in this strange land you have had nothing but pain and discomfort, especially if Thorin had anything to say about it. He seemed to have some sort of vendetta against you. Possibly because you’re a woman, more likely because you’re human. Either way, you get the sense he sees you as a burden on his company, despite Gandalfs insistence that your presence is a sign. Whatever that means.

Still they’re not all bad though. Bilbo is a gentleman with a kind soul, who enjoys spending the evenings talking with you. Bofur is friendly and easy to get along with, never failing to make you smile with a borderline inappropriate joke. And Kili, well, you weren’t yet sure to feel about him. He seems kind and charming, but he could very well just be a fuckboy in disguise. You try not to let his flowing locks and chiseled jaw distract you too much. You’re far too busy trying to survive to entertain a relationship right now. Plus you doubt Thorin would ever allow it, some strange human woman from another world and his prized prince nephew. ‘Pfft as if’ you think grumpily to yourself.

You kick rocks and twigs out of your way as you venture further into the forest, hoping to find a large enough bush to hide behind so you can give yourself a much needed rag wash.

As you walk though, you spot an unusual brick structure sticking out of the trees. Curious, you go over to take a look. The small stone wall stands around your chest height and curves around a pool of water, just big and deep enough for someone to sit in with their legs outstretched. The air around the water is warm and prickles your skin, “You’re joking” you whisper to yourself in disbelief. You dip your fingers in and sigh, it was hot. Quickly stripping off your clothes, you slip into the hot spring, groaning as your body relaxes for the first time in weeks.

You take your time lathering yourself up, before rinsing off the build up of filth. Once clean, you rest your head on the edge of the stones, soaking the water’s warmth. You’re so very tired. Your limbs feel heavy and your eyelids begin to flutter closed. You let out a long yawn before drifting off into a deep restful sleep.

Back at camp the dwarfs fuss around fire, each one playing their part like a well oiled machine. With Bomber, Bilbo, Nori and Ori preparing a stew dinner. Dori and Bifur tending to the fire. Bofur, Gloin and Oin tending to and unpacking the ponies. Balin and Thorin conversing over the map. And Dwalin, Fili and Kili preparing to hunt some fresh animals for the days to come. However, Kili’s mind seems to be elsewhere. He looks around the camp anxiously, a deep frown etched upon his face.

“What’s wrong brother?” Fili nudges him with his elbow. “She’s not here” he replies, looking out into the darkening forest with worry. Fili quickly surveys the camp “She took her bag. She’s probably off doing ladies business” he shrugs unconcerned. Kili shakes his head, still not convinced, “I just have a bad feeling about it, perhaps we should go look for her”,

“And perhaps you just wish to see her unclad” Fili jests, a cheeky smile stretched across his face.

Kili’s face grows hot with embarrassment “N-no” he stutters “I’m just concerned for her safety, from… wolves and stuff”. Fili stares at him in complete disbelief before sighing “Alright, let’s go find her, but you’re telling Dwalin we’re not helping him hunt tonight” Kili’s face pales at the thought of disappointing the older dwarf “Alright” he replies grimly.

After being growled at by Dwalin, Fili and Kili wandered through woods calling your name, but to little avail.

“I told you something was wrong” Kili exclaims frantically. “She probably just wandered too far” his brother tries to calm him with no success. Kili calls your name again, desperate to hear your voice. He wasn’t sure why he was having such a reaction to your absence. He’d barely held a proper conversation with you! Not that he didn’t try, he did, much to his own embarrassment. All he managed to get out was some crappy pickup line he’d heard used at an inn, which also didn’t work on the other lass either.

There was just something so.. magnetic about you, something that drew him in closer.

“I’m here, I’m just changing!” Your faint voice answers back. Kili whips his head in your direction, his hair flinging everywhere. “See, she’s just changing. Now, let’s give her some privacy aye?” Fili pats him on the shoulder as he heads back to camp. Kili spares one last glance before following in his brothers footsteps.

You rouse to the sound of your name being called, the male voice getting closer to your bathing spot. “I’m here, I’m just changing!” You call back to them groggily. Quickly climbing out of the pool you frantically redress yourself, not taking note of your surroundings as you throw your knapsack over your shoulder and trudge back to camp. Your muscles feel relaxed and your brain foggy after your long bath. You let out a long yawn as you finally reach the clearing where the company was staying.

As you lug yourself over to your bag, dropping your knapsack beside it, you begin to rummage through it trying to find your spoon and bowl.

"Uh.. lass?" Bofur asks hesitantly. "What?" You reply, still trying to find your utensils. "Would you mind turning around real quick?", "What?" You turn, looking at him over your shoulder, still kneeling down. "And can you stand up now?" He and the rest of the company stare at you with a look of shock. "What the fuck are you talking about Bofur?" you glare at him confused. "Please, just.. stand up" Kili pleads with you.

You stare at him for a moment, unsure what to do, before rising to your feet. As you stand however, your eyeline seems to fall quite short of where you usually rise to. Usually, you'd be at least a head taller than the dwarves, but now, your eyes seem to be inline with Kili's nose. You stare at him in complete shock, your body frozen in fear. "What the fuck is going on?" you whisper. "You're short," he states, staring at you. "I'm short" you echo.

Despite your hesitations surrounding Kili, you could obviously see he was quite the handsome man. But from this angle, jeeeesus did he look big. His shoulders were broader, his arms thicker, and his hands… definitely more noticeable.

Thorin marches over, his face stony with seriousness "What happened? Where did you go?" his voice booms. "I don't know, I just had a bath, fell asleep, and came back to camp" panic begins to grip your chest as you worry about the longevity of your sudden vertical ailment.

Kili steps closer to your side, his hand gently resting on your arm in comfort. Your heart warms briefly at the gesture. "And where did you bathe?" Gandalf asks, wandering over. You hesitate telling them about the hot spring, "Uhh.. It was like, a fallen stone structure surrounding a small pool".

He hums in thought for a moment, "And was there anything strange or unusual about this pool?",

"...The water was hot" you hear some of the company scoff or sigh at the thought of a hot bath.

Gandalf nods in understanding "There are many places in Middle Earth that hold magical properties. We should wait and see if it clears up with time" He smiles at you most unhelpfully, before pottering off to smoke. Thorin sighs slowly out his nose, agitated by the wizards cryptic ways "We'll do as he instructs" he looks to you then nods to Kili, before returning to his spot.

Kili lingers by your side for a moment, unsure whether to stay or go "Perhaps it would be best if you slept by Fili and I tonight, you know, for safety" he looks down at you. You nod your head, not even having thought of how this might affect other aspects of your life. Kili smiles widely at you before picking up both your bags with ease "Come, it'll be warmer by the fire anyway".

After settling in next to the two, now very tall and slightly intimidating, dwarf brothers. You curl up in your bedroll, scrunch your eyes shut, and pray to anything that might listen, that you return to size by the morning.

However, sleep does not come easy this time. The world seems all the more vast and all the more dangerous. You wriggle around trying to make yourself comfortable to little avail. Suddenly, a thick weight is placed across your body. You look down to find Kili's leather coat covering you "I thought you looked a bit cold" he says gently, tucking you in.

For the second time tonight, your heart warms because of Kili “Thank you. Are you sure you don’t want it though?”, he shakes his head “Nah, we dwarves are thick-skinned” he smile cheekily at you.

“Good night Amrâl (love)” he whispers, Good night Kili” you respond, before turning over.

You tuck your head into his coat, a sense of comfort and warmth washing over you as you finally drift off to sleep.

In the morning, you were sorely disappointed to find that you had not gone back to normal.

You frustratedly pack your bag as the company readies to leave. Swinging your now, much heavier backpack onto your shoulders, its weight causing you to lose your balance and fall flat on top of it. You lay on your back for a moment, staring up the early morning sky. Sighing, you attempt to roll over on to your side with no success. "Need help?" Kili steps into your vision, hand outstretched. You smile at him exhaustedly, allowing him to help you up.

Unbeknownst to you, this would not be the last time Kili assists you because of your new vertical condition. After a long day of riding, sat behind Bilbo, you struggle to find your footing on the stirrups. Kicking helplessly, as you attempt to get down, "Allow me to help" Kili says from behind you. You nod, and he places his hands firmly on your hips, lifting from the pony and onto the ground with ease.

Whilst travelling, the company comes across a steep rock wall in their path. Allowing the the ponies to climb up themselves would be safest, but it also meant you were left to struggle against the incline yourself. As you grip on to the rocks and roots, you find your muscles seizing up underneath the weight of your pack. Your hand suddenly slips and you lose your balance. Luckily, Kili manages to catch your arm before you topple down "Careful there Thatr (Star)" he smiles down at you cheekily, before lifting you up the rest of the way.

Every slip, trip, tumble and fall, is swiftly avoided by Kilis' keen senses and eagerness to protect you from harms way, especially during this vulnerability. However, his helping hand doesn't aid your feelings of helplessness. It feels as though each day you become even more and more of a burden than the last. You were on your last threads

And then a storm rolled in.

The wild winds threatens to throw you, and poor Bilbo, off your pony. "Thorin, we must find shelter!" Kili yells, his voice barely traveling against the pelting rain.

Thorin, at the front of the pony line, turns around to look at his miserable and waterlogged company, "Head for the tree line. We'll set up the tents!" he finally relents to the weather.

Trotting over to the forest, the company swiftly dismounts, and quickly begins to set up some two-man tents.

After helping Bilbo off the pony, you swing your leg over, attempting to dismount yourself. But your foot slips off the stirrup, and you fall backwards off the pony, twisting, and landing face first in the mud.

You lift yourself up with your arms, your leg still caught in the saddle causes you to partially hang off the horse. You gasp and spit out the mud, eyes screwed tightly shut. A shocked and frustrated yell leaves your lips.

“Hold on ‘Ibinê (my gem)!" Kili calls out to you. A pair of strong hands lift you up from under your armpits. Once standing, they wipe the mud from your face and you are finally able to see again. Kili stands in front of you, face scrunched in concern as he tries to wipe away the filth, "I'm so sorry Gaihith (Little Dove), I should have been there to catch you".

His words are the last straw. Your lip trembles as you try to keep the tears at bay. All you can do is nod your head in response, ducking it low so he wont see your teary eyes.

But he does, of course. Gentle hands cups your face, guiding you to raise your head again "Go to my tent. I'll be there in a moment" he says firmly, face mere inches from your own. You let out a shuddered breath and nod.

Crawling into his very cozy tent, you let out an exhausted sob. The tears begin to fall uncontrollably as you lay down on his bedroll.

As you wallow, the flap of the tent opens and Kili shuffles in, pushing your own bag into the corner.

He had stayed in the rain to retrieve it for you. The thought causes your heart to ache more and cry harder. "Come here Halwûna (Sweet one)" he coos scootching in beside you.

He holds his arms out and you don't skip a beat before cuddling into his chest. Kili holds you tight as sobs wrack your body "It's alright", "You're okay", "I'm here" he whispers into your hair.

As your cries calm down, Kili pull his head away to look at your face. You look haggard. Face puffy, eyes bloodshot, a bit of drool on the side of your mouth, drenched in sweat and rain. "What's wrong Benmar (Supreme beauty)?" he whispers, wiping ways the spit and tears. You sigh "I'm just so tired of being short" you manage to stutter out.

He hums in agreement "It has been and difficult few weeks hasn't it?",

"And I worry I might not ever go back to normal" you begin to sob again. Kili gently holds your cheek regaining your attention "I'm sure you'll go back to normal Mesem (Jewel), just give it time" he reassures you.

"But what if I don't" you can’t help but worry, as you gaze deeply into his warm brown eyes. "Well, then I suppose I'll just have to keep taking care of you forever" he smiles softly at you.

"Oh Kili-" you cry weakly at his romantic gesture. "Shh" he gently kisses your forehead, then you cheek, then your nose before pulling back slightly to stare at you, asking, no begging for permission.

"Please-" is all you have to say before he swoops in, planting a firm kiss against your lips. You clutch to his jacket, his touch grounding you. As you pull away, you rest your forehead against his "Everything will be alright. I'm sure of it Amrâlimê (My love/Love of mine)".

You nod, trusting him, "You know, you're gonna have to teach me what all these names mean one day". He smiles widely at you "It means ‘love of mine'" he whispers to you.

Your heart swells and you shyly smile at him "I love you too" you softly whisper back to him.

He grins before pulling you closer "Come, we should rest. It's been a long day. And we have plenty of time for kissing tomorrow" he pinches your side lightly, causing you to squeak and squirm. Settling in against him you fall into a long restful sleep.

Throughout the following week your height, very slowly, begins to go back to normal. Eventually, you are able to carry your pack again, hop on and off your pony, and even help around camp. Kili however, did not change one bit. Still offering to lift your bag, a hand when dismounting, and anything else he could think of. Kili stuck by your side like glue.

Sitting around the fire with the rest of the company, you lean your head on Kili's, now that you're tall enough to do so, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

“I'm glad you didn't keep your word" you whisper to him privately.

"What do you mean?" he looks up at you, brows furrowed in concern.

“I'm glad you didn't stop taking care of me, just because I'm big again" you explain.

He scoffs at the thought “I also told you I’d take care of you forever, didn’t I?” He smiles up at you, eyes practically shining with affection. And in that moment, you knew he would.

[sunshineangel0]

chapter nine

pairing- Bang Chan x OC (Chi Nakamura) genre- Slow burn, romantic comedy, slice of life word count- 1.4k warnings- Mild language, secondhand embarrassment, screaming best friend, excessive blushing, emotional chaos, mentions of kissing hihihihihi a/n- You ever wake up after a life-altering kiss and suddenly forget how to function as a human being? Yeah. Chi we feel you girllll.

Chi woke up with his name still on her lips.

The morning light was barely a whisper, sneaking past the edge of her curtains in soft, golden slivers. Her bedsheets were twisted around her legs like she’d fought off a dream in her sleep. Her room was quiet, too quiet, except for the steady hum of the city outside—a distant car horn, the low rumble of early traffic, someone shouting down the block.

But inside her chest? Chaos.

Her pulse thundered as the memory played back with perfect, unbearable clarity.

The press of his hands at her waist. The soft brush of his fingertips when he touched her like she might vanish. The warmth of his breath, sweet and nervous, as it hovered just inches from her lips. And the way he’d looked at her—like she was a question he finally wanted the answer to.

When he kissed her, it hadn’t been careful. It had been honest. Raw. Like he’d been holding something back for so long it had nowhere else to go.

She could still feel it. Could still taste it.

Her eyes snapped open.

“Oh my God.”

She rolled over and shoved her face into the pillow, letting out a long, muffled groan. Her heart was still racing like it hadn’t gotten the memo that it was a new day. She kicked the sheets off entirely, staring at the ceiling like it had answers.

This was bad. Not because she regretted it.

Hell no.

She could relive that kiss in her head on repeat and not get tired of it. But now there was this yawning, silent gap after it—like stepping off a cliff and realizing mid-air you forgot to pack a parachute.

What now?

Were they supposed to talk about it? Pretend it never happened? Was she supposed to text him? Or wait and act cool and hope to God he did first?

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Chi froze.

The vibration rattled against the wood like a tiny earthquake. She turned her head slowly, like looking at a wild animal that might bolt. Her hand inched toward it, her breath catching in her throat.

Chris ☕

The contact name blinked up at her. Her heart did something violent in her chest. She unlocked it, fingers suddenly clammy.

Chris ☕: Are you working today?

Chi blinked at the screen.

That was it?

That was the message?

Like he hadn’t kissed her under moonlight and stage lights and stars?

She stared at the text for a solid thirty seconds, unsure whether to laugh or scream.

Chi: Yeah. Why?

The dots appeared instantly.

Chris ☕: No reason.

She dropped the phone onto the bed like it was cursed.

Then flopped back onto the mattress and dragged a hand down her face.

This was going to be a disaster.

The café smelled like fresh bread and roasted espresso beans. A comforting, familiar warmth. The floors were still slick from the morning mop, the metal machines humming to life one by one. Outside, people drifted past in coats and scarves, the air crisp with late autumn chill. Inside, Chi moved like she was on autopilot—refilling napkins, aligning mugs, checking the pastries in the case. But her hands kept shaking just a little too much.

The door chimed.

She didn’t look up.

She didn’t need to.

A soft scuff of sneakers on tile. The creak of the door swinging closed.

Her back stiffened. Her fingers curled tighter around the portafilter.

It’s fine. You’re fine. Just look.

She took a deep breath, turned—and froze.

Chris stood just inside the door, framed by the sunlight spilling in behind him.

Gray hoodie. Black sweats. Hair still damp, curling slightly at the ends. He looked warm from the shower, skin flushed, soft shadows under his eyes. And when he smiled—just barely, just enough—it sent every rational thought in her brain scattering.

Their eyes locked.

And for one heartbeat, everything went still.

All she could think about was his mouth on hers. The way he’d held her like he didn’t want the night to end.

Chris raised an eyebrow.

“You good?”

Chi blinked, jolted back into her body.

Abort. Abort.

She spun around so fast she nearly dropped the tamper. “What? Yeah. Fine. Totally fine.”

Chris let out a quiet hum, the kind that said he didn’t believe her for a second. The silence between them stretched.

Not the easy, companionable silence they usually shared. Not the kind filled with music and eye-rolls and playful insults.

This one was heavier. Charged.

Chris leaned against the counter like it was his throne, watching her.

“So,” he said finally, voice low.

Chi refused to meet his eyes. “So…?”

“You’re really just gonna pretend nothing happened?”

Her hands froze over the milk steamer. Her heart thumped loud enough to echo in her ears. She turned slowly, like every movement mattered.

Chris was watching her like he was trying to figure her out. Like he was giving her room to run—but hoping she wouldn’t.

“…Are you?” she asked.

Chris tilted his head, eyes never leaving hers.

“Nope,” he said. The ‘p’ popped like a match being struck.

Her breath caught.

She turned back to the machine, needing something—anything—to focus on.

“Well,” she muttered, “congrats. You win. You get to make me flustered at work now.”

Chris grinned, leaning in.

“I already made you flustered last night.”

She nearly dropped the cup.

She spun around, pointing at him. “You do not get to say that before I’ve had caffeine.”

He held up his hands, surrendering. But the grin stayed.

Chi groaned and pressed her forehead to the counter.

This man was going to ruin her life.

It didn’t help that Chris settled into his usual stool like it was his personal lounge. He sipped his drink, quiet, amused, eyes flicking up to watch her every few minutes like she was the most interesting thing in the room.

Which would’ve been fine—if Felix and Han hadn’t walked in next.

They took one look at the scene and immediately locked in.

Han tilted his head. “Hyung?” Chris sipped. “Hmm?”

Felix stared. Then slowly, slowly, his grin spread across his face.

“Oh my god.”

Han looked between them. “Wait. Are you—?? YOURE COFFFEE GIRL”

Chris kept sipping. Said nothing.

And yet… somehow said everything.

Felix gasped, clutching his chest. “SP ITS TRUE, YOU FINALLY GOT A GIRLFRIEND?!”

Chris choked on his drink.

Chi, behind the counter, made a sound that wasn’t human. “What—NO,” she said, way too fast.

Han blinked. “Then why is he smiling like that?”

Chris shrugged. “Maybe I just like my coffee today.”

Chi glared at him with the force of a thousand suns.

Felix smirked. “Mmmhmm. Sure.”

The storage room was dim and stuffy, lit only by a single flickering overhead bulb. Boxes of sugar packets and to-go lids were stacked to the ceiling. Chi was trying to pretend she was doing inventory when Mina stormed in like she’d just kicked the door down.

Hands on hips. Murder in her eyes.

“What is going on with you?” she demanded. “You’ve been twitchy since that concert.”

Chi tried to sidestep. Mina sidestepped harder.

“You’re fidgety. Distracted. You spilled a latte on a guy in a three-piece suit this morning.”

“It was his fault,” Chi muttered.

“Did. Something. Happen?”

Chi said nothing.

Mina’s eyes went wide. “NO WAY. SOMETHING DID HAPPEN.”

Chi stared at the shelf like it would open up and swallow her.

Mina leaned in, squinting. “Was it someone at the concert? Was it an idol? OH MY GOD, WAS IT AN IDOL?!”

Chi groaned, backing into the shelf.

“WAIT—IT WAS, WASN’T IT?”

Chi mumbled something. Mina stepped closer. “What was that?”

Chi sighed. “It was Chris.”

Beat.

Mina blinked. “Chris... like coffee guy Chris?”

Chi nodded. Mina screamed.

Chi lunged, clapped a hand over her mouth. “Shut up!”

Mina peeled her hand off. “You kissed the guy you’ve been slow-burning with over cappuccinos for three months?!”

Chi dragged a hand down her face. “Yes.”

Mina stared. Then her jaw dropped. Her mind went back to the concert last night. Chis sudden disapperance. And that one specific member went by the name-

“No. No way. Are you telling me—ARE YOU TELLING ME—”

Chi winced. “Yup.”

“—THAT CHRIS IS BANG CHAN?!”

Chi nodded once. Mina screamed again.

Chi tackled her. “OH MY GOD. SHUT UP.”

“You kissed a K-pop star.”

“Technically he kissed me first.”

“YOU’RE IN A SITUATIONSHIP WITH BANG CHAN.”

“Stop saying his full name like that.”

“You’re going to be famous.” “I’m going to get canceled.”

Mina put a hand to her chest. “I need to sit down.”

“You need to shut up.”

“I need to text someone.”

Chi snatched her phone. “NO ONE FINDS OUT. THIS DIES HERE.”

Mina pointed dramatically. “You are living my Wattpad fantasy.”

Chi glared. “You’re never letting this go, are you?”

Mina grinned, wild and victorious. “Not even a little bit.”

©sunshineangel0 𖹭 if you liked this work, please consider reblogging, commenting or liking! xoxo franzi 💋

skz general: @velvetmoonlght @scarlet789 @estella-novella @nightmarenyxx

Mochi and Bean: @offl-ine @missvanjii @watchingover-hypegirl @namchanhyung @d0nnie---dark0 @queenofdumbfuckery

(if you wanna be added to the taglist comment below!)

[upon-a-starry-night]

While We Dream Pt.1

Kylo Ren x Fem! Reader

Star Wars Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: As Kylo sleeps he finds himself mysteriously transported to your modern world, while you sleep you find yourself following alongside Kylo as he goes about his duties as “supreme leader?” who even was this guy? And why does he keep talking about ‘The Force?'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You know how in life there are those days that make you want to squeeze lemon juice directly into a fresh cut just to feel something? Well, you were having one of those days.

You’d just been laid off from your job and to make matters worse you locked your keys in your car while you were packing away your desk essentials. It would take the mechanic two hours to arrive so you could either sit there looking pathetic in the parking lot of the job you just got fired from or you could take a walk.

Yeah, you weren’t going to humiliate yourself with that first option, especially not after all your coworkers avoided eye contact with you as you packed up your belongings. 

Running your hands through your hair, you sighed in frustration, looking up at the cloudy gray abyss above you. Well at least the weather matched your mood, you just hoped it would hold off on raining until after you were back home. Maybe then you could cuddle up with your cat and a good book and forget today ever happened.

Walking in the opposite direction as your old office building, you turn around to glare at it in all its boring corporate glory.

“Good riddance” you mutter under your breath as you shove your hands in your pockets and let the sidewalk lead you to something that would hopefully brighten your day.

You’d never really gotten to explore the area around your work aside from the coffee and bagel shop you’d frequent for breakfast and the deli two buildings down where you’d get lunch. You’d miss the sandwiches at that deli but there was no way you would go back there and risk running into your coworkers. It was only noon and today was already one of the worst of your adult life experiences. 

It wasn’t like you particularly liked that job, you yearned for a creativity that would never be found behind a wooden desk in a cubicle. Still, you’d made a few accomplices and had started growing used to your routine.

You didn't know if it was bad luck or the universe telling you to finally do something more adventurous with your life but either way, you’d need to find a new job soon.

So lost in thought, you don’t even realize where you are until you stumble over a stray tree root. Only then do you notice the gorgeous park you’re in. It’s roughly the size of a large backyard but it’s filled with so many plants and tall trees that you could nearly forget you were in the middle of a city if the honking of traffic didn’t give it away.

Flowers of every color blossom all along the brick pathway and all sorts of pollinators flitter around the garden. It’s a wonder they can find their way to this place through all the buildings and construction around but if you lived here you’d probably never leave it anyway.

It would feel like a segment pulled straight out of a forest if it weren’t for the fountain in the middle of it all. It’s a beautiful circle made out of white marble with a woman in the center holding some sort of pot where the water is flowing from. 

It’s nothing but a simple statue but something about the woman's eyes is warm and motherly, whoever carved them must have spent a lot of time on them to get them to feel so inviting. They don’t look directly at you, however, they focus just to the right of where you're standing and you follow the line of sight till you notice something in the bushes.

Curious as to what could be so important that they’d face the statue towards it, you move to investigate the mysterious object and are pointedly surprised to find a coin machine buried amongst the leaves and vines. It reads:

“Wish coins. Hold the coin in your hands and make a wish then toss it into the fountain. The Universe is kind to those with pure intentions. Only one per person!” 

From the looks of it, no one’s used it in a long time and it makes you sad that humanity has seemingly given up on simple things like making a wish in a fountain. You remember doing it once or twice as a kid, although your wishes never came true- it was probably for the best that you didn’t receive 15 puppies and all the toys in the world at age 8.

It only costs a penny to get a coin from the machine so after a few minutes of digging through all your pants pockets you manage to scrounge up one dirty penny made in 2003 from your back pocket. You insert it and twist until your ‘wish coin’ comes out with a clank.

It’s bigger than a dollar coin and looks like something you’d get at an arcade or gaming festival. It’s got a star on both sides instead of anything remotely similar to real currency but it holds the weight of real metal and looks entirely made of copper. Even if you don’t throw it in it’s a pretty cute trinket to have found.

Checking your watch, you see that you still have an hour until the mechanics can get to your car so you walk over and take a seat on the fountain, admiring the greenery, you think about how you probably never would have found this place if all of the bad stuff didn’t happen. Although you didn't know if this surpassed the loss of your job you were grateful to have found such a beautiful place to rest and wait. 

Taking a deep breath in, you flip the coin in your palm over a few times, staring at it in consideration. It couldn’t hurt to try…could it? 

Truth be told, you don't know why you’re putting so much thought into it but maybe there was a small part of you that still believed in silly things like this. The little girl in you that held out hope that things like magic actually exist somewhere in this world.

Standing up, you turn and face the fountain as you clutch onto the coin with both hands and think of the perfect wish. What is it that you really wanted anyway? 

A job? No, that was something you needed, and it didn't feel like something worth wasting a wish on. 

A partner? Now that would be nice, someone to come home to and cheer you up on days like these, but even that didn’t feel right and you didn’t want to end up in one of those shitty genie situations where they take your words literally and end up screwing you over.

What was it that you truly wanted? Adventure? Excitement? Something to look forward to in a world that makes you constantly look back? That felt like the right direction but you had no idea how to phrase it so you just poured everything you were feeling into the coin and then flicked it into the clear blue water.

As it sank to the bottom you held your breath as you waited for something to happen. You don’t know what you were expecting, it’s not like everything you wished for would just magically appear out of nowhere…

You waited a few minutes, shifting anxiously on your feet as you stared at the coin at the bottom of the fountain. There were no other coins in the water and you wondered if someone came to clean it often, even the water was flawlessly clear despite the area being so secluded. You wondered if your coin would soon be cleaned out and debated fishing it out of the water. 

It was pretty cute but maybe you could just grab a second one from the machine? You fisted your pockets for another penny but came up empty so you resorted to searching the surrounding dirt for any lost change. Much to your luck there was a single penny underneath one of the within-reach bushes and you quickly inserted it into the slot and tried to twist.

The machine didn’t budge. Was it broken? You tried twisting again, taking the penny out and putting it back, and even lightly smacking the machine but nothing worked. The “only one per person" sticker staring at you tauntingly. Perhaps that was your sign to stop trying. 

Sighing, you glance at the time and decide you should probably start to head back if you want to make it to your car before the mechanic people do. Before you go though, you take one last look into the statue's warm eyes, letting the tiniest ounce of hope spark through you.

“I don’t really know what I wished for but… I hope it comes true.” You turn to walk away but then hesitate, taking in the scenery one last time “And I hope it makes me happy.”

Pt.2

A/n: Hope you enjoyed Chapter one of my new series! It only gets crazier from here!! ~Starry

[xenith-eats-stars]

me and my buddy @cartoon-leafe came up with a ton of those “she [X] on my [X] till i [X]” memes, so here’s all of them

under the cut bc it’s a pretty long list

she 5 on my nights till im at freddy’s

she asriel on my photoshop till i flowey

he old on my man till i yaoi

she megalo on my vania till im stronger than you

she W. on my D. till i gaster

she tomo on my dachi till i life

she spring on my lock till i failure

she insane on my clown till i posse

she scott on my pilgrim till i defeat her 7 evil exes

she team on my fortress till i 2

she nagito on my komaeda till her rhinestone eyes are like factories far away

she tally on my hall till im hidden in the sand

she I/ on my Me/ till i Myself

she cicada on my days till i pack my stuff

she ink on my machine till i bendy

she X on my men till i mutate

she dwell in my vault till i fallout

she W on my M1 till i believe in magic

she Jack on my Skellington till im the pumpkin king

she amazing on my digital till i circus

she Honda on my Odyssey till i get chills, theyre multiplying

she Hazbin on my Hotel till i get redeemed

she Monty on my Gator till i wanna rock and roll

she pound my head till im against the kitchen floor

she hammer on my car till i explode

she pyramid on my head till im silent

she dungeon on my dragon till i roll a nat 20

she 9 on my 11 till i never forget

she laplace on my angel till i hurt people? hurt people!

she poké on my balls till i catch ‘em all

she rock and roll on me all night till i party every day

she lady on my bug till im miraculous, simply the best

she Miles on my Morales till im like what’s up danger

she ink on my splat zone till i splashdown

she calamari my inkantation till i stay fresh

she ebb on my flow till i dont get cooked

she anarchy my rainbow till i catch her later

she [[HYPERLINK BLOCKED]] on my [[KEYGEN]] till i become a [[BIG SHOT]]

she birds are singing on my flowers are blooming till kids like you burn in hell

she autism on my spectrum till i disorder

she obsessive on my compulsive till i disorder

she golden on my freddy till it’s me

she appreciate my skeleton till i can feel my mind unweave again

she animation on my meme till i headbop

she Chappell on my Roan till im hot to go

she azumanga on my daioh till i america ya!

she project on my diva till i mega mix

she little on my shop of horrors till i feed her to a plant

she watt on my pad till i lemon

she pop on my team till im epic

she fire on my paw till i alone will save our clan

she legends on my arceus till i make the first pokédex

she ponder my orb till i ruminate

she migrate my coconut till i swallow

she stardew on my valley till i farm

she visit my friend till im the visiterrrr

she my on my little till i pony

she swipe left on character ai till i ask her a question

she Mandela my Catalogue till i will know her greatest fear

she scarlet on my violet till i time travel

she star on my platinum till i the world

she hatsune on my miku till im the #1 princess in the world

she miracle on my musical till im alone at the edge of a universe humming a tune

she harpy on my hare till i bury all her children

[petalruesimblr]

Organic Fresh Delights Grocery

Sim File Share

Welcome to Organic Fresh Delights, your one-stop destination for all things fresh and organic! We're committed to providing the highest quality organic goods sourced directly from our local farmers and fisherman offering a vibrant selection of vegetables, fruits, premium cuts of meat and fish. We also have an array of products ranging from lush plants to food, drinks and essential household items. Step into our store and immerse yourself in a world of freshness, flavor, and sustainability.

Price: 72,780 Lot Size: 25x25 Lot Type: Visitors Allowed Store Content: Click here CC Used: Click here File Type: Package Min. Required Game Version: 1.42 Packs Needed: The Sims 3, Late Night (floor), Pets (buydebug object), Ambitions, World Adventures (food register, gate from ATS3)

Hi everyone! I was going to share one of my older builds from years ago but I found out that most of the objects I used for that lot were in sim3pack format and most of the CCs I transferred over to my current setup have been converted to package files, which messed up the appearance of the lot. So, I've recreated it this time and I'm sharing a new grocery lot: the Organic Fresh Delights Grocery!

Click on the ’Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures on this lot.

For the rabbit hole, I placed it in an empty stockroom/office and have also locked the fire escape door and fence at the back of the lot so that sims can only enter the door inside the building. This was the only option that worked during playtesting so that sims can enter in and out of the rabbit hole inside the room only. If you want to open those doors though, you can do it by editing the lot and click CTRL + Shift + Right Click to choose the unlock option. Due to the lack of windows on the first floor, I have placed a lot of buydebug lights and it may be too bright during the night so you can adjust it by enabling “testingcheatsenabled true” and “buydebug on” after. 📣This lot is a bit CC-heavy, as I have used more cc compared to game objects and these are not included on the download file. I’ve compiled a list for those interested in downloading them separately (please click the links above or go to WCIF Navigation page). The Late Night and World Adventures expansion pack is required due to the build items used in the lot but I'm not sure about buydebug items so Pets may be required as well. 📣There are two CCs that I was unable to locate the original link namely: mtk_signdoors and Public Signs - CAStable both from Macthekat. I tried the direct links and it doesn't work anymore so I had to check using the Wayback Machine site and was able to find her Terms of Use from the old site, Pink Rabbit that states "All our products is shear-friendly - just make sure to give proper credit. You may include my work in sims packages if you want to" and "You may include my stuff into almost anything – it would be nice if you mention my name, but I can live without it. You may share my stuff." With those terms, I have re-uploaded them to sfs and if there is an updated TOU from the creator (or if you are Macthekat) that states otherwise please do let me know and I will take the links down. 📣If you want a functional grocery store in your gameplay, you can use Ani's Sell From Inventory mod. I have used a few storage or chest-like CCs and a food register from ATS3 that you can use. If you prefer Ani’s Savvier Seller instead, you may have to replace most of the items and use ATS3 Savvy's Seller Collection set instead. You can also check out Mookymilksims guide and tutorial video for realistic function shops using Savvier Seller mod. It is very easy to follow and has detailed instructions to help you out to make it work! Let me know if you experience any problems on your end.

[superm4ks]

Omg this verstappie rewatch is literally gonna be the whole season lmao

Part 1 2016-2018 > Part 2 2019-2022

In 2013, after becoming the World and European KZ class Champion, European OF class Champion, Continental KF class champion, and 3rd place laureate in the World KF class, 15 year old Max Verstappen had turned that years karting scene into a 'one man show' according to Vroomkart International. The title of the piece wasted no time posing what was, admittedly, a very bold question:

Gentlemen, a short view into the 2023 season

Baku, 2023. Ik what ur thinking. 19 wins and ur gonna start wid fucking Baku? And yes 🙂I will, and so shud u 🫵🏽Max lost Baku. The pole, the sprint and the race. Lingered about 3 secs behind checo after the SC, never closed the gap. And guess what, Baku was actually one of the most important races of this season, Maxs own words. Because that inconsistent pace? Those choppy lap times, killing his tires? Max was learning how to setup his car. Rb19 was clearly rb18s big brother, a real sunday beast, faster, more reliable, but a lil sensitive, demanded some hands on attention from his boy. So Max turned Baku into their fp4. U can c it on his onboard, hear him asking for different settings, toggling wid the balance. Those of us who know Max, we kinda suspected what he was up to. But it seemed others didnt. And whatvr max was about to do to these people in Miami bro, it wud be the type of reckoning u read about in the bible.

Miami, 2023. When max qualified p9 cheers echoed across both Americas. After the Baku loss, the slow start to the season, there was hope. Max Verstappen was about to lose the championship lead. People bought into the fairytale and they were loud about it too. They taunted him, booed him and his mechanics in parc ferme. And then Max was p2 by lap 15. Cut thru the field like butter and the whole stint he kept setting purples. Fastest lap after fastest lap. By lap 40 his hards were outpacing fresh mediums on a track u cud fry an egg on. Red bulls strategy for Max required the impossible and that's exactly what Max delivered. Before Miami, Checo was a title contender. After Miami, he was barely a competitor. Max took the 'tire whisperers' ambitions and grinded them into dust in 45 laps or less. It was the race that marked the beginning of the most dominant individual season in Formula 1 history but at its core, in classic Verstappen style, it was a lesson. A very simple one.

Shot by Brook Ward.

Monaco, 2023

- Qualifying Yk who doesn’t give a FUCK about lessons tho, Monaco. Monaco wont be taught by no man. But it’s 2023. This classic immovable object about to meet the most unstoppable force in modern sport history. Max's very first pole in Monaco, and fittingly so, it came out of an all-timer session. One of those saturdays that make u understand why the tax dodging diva of f1 is going absolutely nowhere. Pole switched between Ocon, Yuki, Sharl and Alonso right up until Max did his thing. 2 mins to the checkered flag, it looked like Nando had it locked. 2 untouchable purples, textbook. It wud have been a beautiful moment, a deserved reward for an old dawg who’d kept at it and had a capable car again. Unfortunately for Nando, though, Sennas illegitimate child clocked in that Saturday. He had a bit of a history wid third sectors that once fucked him. But it's 2023, so this wud be the one that made him. Max put 3 tenths on Alonso's head in one of the shortest, most technical corners of the entire calendar. F1's 'sunday' driver by excellence, the one stop pacemaker, the metronome, the endurance machine, proved that he was all that and also, in fact, the type of elite qualifier who can write his signature on the walls of Monte Carlo.

- Race Monaco is all about Saturday obvi but imo this years race is also worth watching because its actually kind of a banger wid mixed conditions, insane strategies and because this is a verstappie rewatch, u get to c Max at his best: in a chaotic packed field under the rain.

Canada, 2023. Speaking of rain masters. Senna's legend has been clinging to Max from the very first time he traumatized wet cat Rosberg in Brazil in 2016 but it was this year, in Canada, wid Nando and Lewis by his side, the guys who were also there, who saw it happen too, that Max finally matched Senna's win tally. 41. It was a perfect weekend, a testament to the talent that allowed a 26 year old to overtake Ayrton Senna in the record book, and it began, as if in tribute, wid a soaking wet qualifying. Max's pole lap was one second faster than the rest of the grid. One full second. If ur a Nando or a Lewis fan, I wud definitely give it sunday a watch as well because old gays were definitely out there. Also we got this. What yall know about this .

Shot from Nurphoto.

Lemme tell u something rn: Ur looking at 12 world championships, 189 wins, and a 14 year old gap from youngest to oldest. You're looking at statistically, the most successful driver of all time, the guy whose racecraft still seen by many as the finest this sport has ever seen, and a kid who's been sitting between them since he was 17 years old. The same kid who, a few racers later, broke records that existed long before the other two were even born. Yk, Lewis said it better than I ever cud, 'this is quite an iconic top 3'.

Austria, 2023. Why are u a Verstappen fan? U ever been asked that question. Ik i have. 😐 Lots of possible answers. To me Austria has all of them. In Canada, Checo barely made the finish line while Max pushed rbr to their 100th team victory and ((unofficially)) began his chase of the Vettel record. Mind u the mf wont admit that’s what he’s doing, but it is. Him, GP, the whole team. They want it. But we'll get to that. Max is a hunter, and his boy car is the best hound of his career so far. Together, they’d caught the scent. Races like Australia, Spain, Monaco, Canada, they showed it was possible. His management was getting Schumacher shouts, his qualifying was getting Senna's. Clarks proficiency. 2023 can be understood as the result of Max's life long pursuit of perfection, the crowning point of his hard work, the realization of all his potential, that prodigal nature that had been so obvious for so long, finally, entering its prime wid a car that can make history. And yet. AND YET. max has something that all those other legendary mfs lack. Something that is deeply, deeply Max’s. Free practice 1 in Austria and that talented, beautiful creature of God was ready to send it all to hell to make a POINT. Austria was a sprint this year, so already you've pissed him off. During fp1, Lewis impeded Max like once.

((And listen

Lewis saw that boy enter the paddock and immediately called security and along wid seb vettel and raikkonen launched a class action lawsuit against him on the grounds of a) fuck b) them kids. Then 6 years later Lewis and that now grown ass man spent a whole legendary season trying to kill each other. U c how this relationship may have some residue of . lets say. conflict.))

So Lewis impeded Max in fp1 and Max's raytheon hamilton-calibrated sensors activated and he did nothing less but the exact same thing in sprint qualifying. Blocked old mans flying lap. Lewis is limping thru this weekend, mind u, like it’s almost sad. It’s kinda elderly abuse. THEN, the actual sprint. Again, Austria is red bull's home turf. packed wid red bull fans. The car is a rocket, they're on a streak, lots of good photo ops for the team. It started raining. Even better. Lights out, and Checo took the lead first and in the process like . squeezed Max a lil bit. Pushed him on the grass. U can guess what happened next. 😐😐😐😐To answer that first question and to quote somebody who knows him, Max is Max. No matter where, how, against who. Wid a rocketship, wid a hole in his car, winning, losing, fighting for the lead against Lewis Hamilton, fighting for sixth against baby schumi, refusing to comply wid team orders against sainz, scolding danny ric about discipline, waiting 7 months to deliver his justice in brazil, calling russell a dickhead in Baku, whether in front of 300 000 haters in Silverstone of half a million fans in Spielberg, he'll do what he thinks is right. Thats the kind of mf that wins constructors all by himself. 575 points, on his own. Over 1000 laps lead. Max Verstappen has not succeeded in f1 despite his character, but because of it. Because when Checo squeezed him at the start of a stupid fucking sprint that wont make a dent in his records or his lead, Max collected his car and lunged thru the inside line like the title wud be decided in the next turn. He was willing to send himself, checo, and a goddamn haas to hell to remain at the front. And that’s why I'm a fan.

Zandvoort, 2023. 9 consecutive wins. A race that u feel in ur stomach because you know what it means. The sheer size of the accomplishment. That word ringing in everybodys ears since Miami. Inevitable. inevitable. Up until it happened, and then obvi Monza wid the perfect 10, nobody really wanted to believe it. seb's 9 was one of those things held sacred and hallowed by the sport. Like Schumachers points in a season, Ascaris win percentage, Clarks laps lead, and Hamiltons consecutive podiums. Sacred things. And in 2023, the nonbeliever broke them all. Grasped and squeezed wid his very cynical hands. They’re his now. No one else’s. What he did, no one else can do. Max is always outstanding in Zandvoort tbh, thats his track, his fans, his weather. But this years quali was particularly emblematic of the gap to the rest of the grid , and his teammate especially. 1.7s faster than checo. The race was just as impressive. Rain hit early on, complete chaos, and while everybody scrambled to choose the right tires, GP was in Max’s ear, calm as ever, 'it’s up to you'. It really was. It always was.

Zandvoort, 2023. > Monza, 2023.

Japan, 2023. Red Bulls factory crowning weekend. Coming out a disaster Singapore, yet another statement win. Singapore had showed what it took to slow down Verstappen in 2023: not just the wrong setup, but the wrong strategy too. As we'll c in Texas, like we've seen in 2016, 2019, 2020, a machine off the pace alone wont stop Max from winning races. In Suzuka, rocky was back into his operational window, and Max proved exactly who was it that singlehandedly delivered the constructors championship. One of those classic Max weekends. 20 drivers on track but 2 different leagues and he's on his own. Wid a 177 point lead over his teammate, yet another record broken, biggest point gap between 1st and 2nd. ((In the end, the margin was 290)). Max names Suzuka as his most satisfying pole lap of the season. Bro put half a second on the grid in one go.

COTA, 2023. just something in the Americas ((me)) that unlocks the extra prodigal gene in this mf. Talent of the century? Put his ass in North America we can stretch that shit to the millennium idc idc . Miami, Texas, Brazil, Mexico, and now Vegas, to me these are cornerstones of Verstappen excellence. Max holds the record for most wins in a single geographical location over one season. ((Of course he does)) 10 consecutive wins in NA, across state lines, country borders, wid different conditions, tracks, circuits, tires, formats, setups. This years’ Austin GAG? Apparently they didn’t set the tarmac right. track was a bumpy mess. Max struggled from the start wid braking issues and tire wear, but he kept his head cool because he knew he had the basics. There was once a time before the rb19 , when all he had was a cap and 1 year of open wheel experience, and his 18 year old self put on a clinic against a 30 year old world champion on how to defend on old faulty rubber. That’s exactly what Max did in Cota. Bro was able to make up for aerodynamic loss wid nothing but pedal and wheel work. Do not talk to him during braking. Do not fucking talk to him during braking. That’s all Max asked. 50th win. Offically 3rd OAT, behind Vettel, Hamilton and Schumacher. ((He’s now alone in 3rd OAT, wid 53 wins.)). He’s 26. After Merc and Ferrari were proclaimed ‘illegal’ what truly shocked me wasn’t that they tried to cheat, but that they wud try to pull that shit against this Verstappen, in this car, in 2023. They lowered their floors for smoother suspensions to fight Adrian Neweys Frankenstein monster but the real machine was sitting right behind the wheel. And he won. Actually, he mollywhooped those bitches. Not the floor, not the wings, just a damn good racing driver. Good luck next time.

Qatar gp, 2023. Dutch man allergic to winning world championships in a normal way, millions left emotionally berated every year begging for the sweet release of ted kravitzs voice. No I’m jk but actually tell me why this fool cud not have waited for the race to clinch it. Bro had the title confirmed by a sprint where he finished SECOND. As a verstappie, imma tell u to watch this because it’s like. get out of my face rn I love you so much I’m so happy for u also that helmet is so pretty. In Qatar, Max became 1 of 5 drivers who won back to back to back world championships. After the year 2000, 1 of 3. Along wid the biggest championship margin in the most successful season of all time, well. 1 of 1.

Las Vegas, 2023. ummm ok ik this may SHOCK u but he wasn’t a fan. Max spent the whole season bitching about Vegas and breaking records and threatening retirement like that’s literally a fair description of events. Just very verstappen and migraine inducing type of shit. But yes, Vegas. Vegas held no old school appeal whatsoever. And he was right about some things. He never berated the circuit itself, the quality of the racing, just the show around it. U shud build for the track, not around it. It’s not that difficult to understand, or even that unpopular. But Max forgot about one important thing that wud prolly hurt his cause. He has never landed on US soil and not served. The plot armor wud simply never let my baddie have her AHA!!!!moment in Nevada. So I want u to open that cringe FUCKING compilation Sunday stream of the Vegas gp and c what happens when a sleep deprived verstappen and his so called ‘dominant’ ‘untouchable’ ‘unbeatable’ ‘rocket ship’ are released on a frozen track wid barely any data because one of the potholes burst and cut practices into 10 mins. Bitch what happens is good fucking f1 😭😭😭 Some real formula uno cabron 😭😭 Max retakes the lead at the start, overcooks his frozen tires, pushes sharl off, gets a penalty, serves his penalty, comes back wid gods wrath emanating from his fugly white helmet, obliterates the gap to first and Russell along wid it ((🫡)) passes both cars in front in one slick veteran move and sinks his teeth into p1 for the remaining 13 laps. And wins. Maybe not his most characteristic win, but def the funniest one. Stupid ass even sang Elvis. That’s an f1 driver bitch. He can’t trick me.

Here we are. Abu Dhabi. Breathe out. Red Bull won constructors in Japan, Max won the drivers championship in Qatar. It all started wid a lesson, remember? Max was a good teacher. He spent 8 months making sure we learned. Did you?

By Abu Dhabi, 2023, Max had officially set 20 new records, including the record for most records broken in a season by a single driver. 5 of those achievements had already been set in 2022, just upgraded in 2023: most wins in a season, most podiums in a season, most consecutive wins from pole, most hat tricks in a season, and most consecutive top two finishes in history. 3 of his achievements, however, kept him on the hunt until the very last lap: 3rd most wins of all time, over a 1000 laps lead, and the highest percentage of wins in the sports history. Max got them all. He’s now, statistically, the sole protagonist of the most dominant season in f1, and f1’s 3rd most successful driver, behind Schumacher and Hamilton. Max won 19 out of 22 races. 10 of those wins were consecutive. Right now, he’s already on another streak. 3 more wins and he matches his own record. 4 and he resets the book forever. What Max did wid the rb19 needs to be watched again and again and again, because it’ll be years. YEARS .Until we begin to learn how to truly appreciate it. This is just my humble attempt.

In Abu Dhabi, the job was done wid a series of incredible defensive moves that completely shut the door on sharl. No flashy overtakes, no heroics on the inside line. Just strong classic defending. Sharls attack was dealt wid, nullified, the gap was built, set and managed, and Max saw the fireworks 17 seconds earlier than the rest. In 2023, Max was untouchable by all but one. The car he called ‘rocky’. The only car, to this day, according to the man himself, that ever saw him smile before he crossed the finish line. That ever made him happy before it made him a winner.

You tell me.

[theshiniestgemstone]

comfort- nurse!gn!reader X gideon gemstone

warnings: mentions of death/grief, reader and gideon are parents

You opened the front door to your home, grateful for the silence and the soft hum of a movie playing low on the living room TV. The warm glow of the screen flickered across the walls, casting a gentle light over the furniture Gideon had rearranged. You didn’t even have the energy to roll your eyes at the throw blanket now folded like a hotel towel swan on the armrest.

Your scrubs were already tucked away in the hospital’s exchange machine, but the day still clung to you. The sour tang of vomit lingered in the fibers of your sock, and there was a stubborn smudge of dried blood crusted into the cuff of your undershirt. Your cheek was starting to throb now that the adrenaline had faded, probably from when the teenager’s elbow caught you mid-turn during the intake scuffle. You’d barely noticed it at the time.

Before anything else, you went straight to the guest bathroom on the first floor. Gideon had already laid clothes out for you. He'd set aside an old band tee and your favorite sweatpants, folded with that almost military precision he picked up God-knows-where. A pair of thick socks sat on top, along with a fresh pair of underwear.

You managed a small smile.

The bathroom smelled faintly of eucalyptus from the candle he always lit when he knew you’d had a long shift. The overhead light buzzed softly, mixing with the hum of the fan as you stripped down and stepped into the shower. The hot water hit your shoulders and poured down your back, and for a long moment, you just stood there. You let the heat do the work of softening your muscles, melting the tension from your neck, washing away everything that clung to you: the smells, the stains, the ghosts of the day.

You scrubbed at your skin harder than necessary, watching the rust-colored swirls disappear down the drain. The ache in your cheek pulsed gently beneath your fingertips as you ran your hand over it. You’d probably need an ice pack later.

By the time you stepped out and wrapped yourself in a towel, your body felt wrung out. Clean, but not quite light. Not yet.

You pulled on the clothes Gideon left you, socks last, smirking despite yourself. The fabric smelled like home, laundry detergent and cedarwood and a hint of his cologne. You paused in the doorway, listening for movement in the house.

The movie was still playing, and the couch was occupied by Gideon, who was fast asleep, mouth slightly parted, one hand dangling over the edge, the remote clutched loosely in the other. There was an untouched bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and a folded blanket at his feet. He’d waited up.

You sat down beside him, careful not to jostle the blanket pooling around his legs, and reached out to run a gentle knuckle down his cheek. His skin was warm under your touch. He stirred with a soft snort, brows twitching as he blinked up at you, voice thick with sleep.

“You’re home,” he murmured, already pulling you into his chest before his eyes were fully open. “How was work?”

You barely got your arms around him before the weight of the day collapsed inside you like a dam breaking. Your shoulders sagged, and a quiet, broken sob slipped from your lips as you buried your face in his neck.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered instantly, his arms locking tighter around you, one hand threading into your damp hair. “Hey… hey, I got you.”

You shook your head, another sob catching in your throat as you clung to him like a lifeline. His shirt soaked up the water from your hair, your tears, the day itself. The heat of the shower hadn’t wrung it out of you, not really, but this... this was different. This was safe.

“It was bad,” you choked out finally, your voice muffled against his skin.

“I know,” he said softly, rocking you just a little, the way he would if you were a kid or maybe if he didn’t know what else to do. “I know, sweetheart. You’re okay now. You’re home.”

His hand rubbed slow, steady circles against your back as you cried, grounding you. No questions. No fixing. Just his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong. Just the movie playing quietly in the background, and the smell of popcorn and clean clothes. Just Gideon.

You drew in a shaky breath, your voice barely audible against his chest. “We lost three today. College kid. A four-year-old. And another who got into the laundry pods.”

Gideon stilled, just for a moment. You felt his arms tighten slightly around you, felt his breath catch in his throat before he exhaled, slow and controlled. He didn’t speak right away. He didn’t rush to say something comforting or cliché. He just held you tighter.

“Jesus,” he murmured finally, voice raw, almost reverent.

You nodded, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “The kid with the pods… he was just trying to help his mom with laundry. She was in the other room for two minutes.” Another sob broke loose before you could swallow it. “She screamed so loud, Gideon. I still hear it.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his lips brushing your hair. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You clutched him tighter, feeling the tension in your own body begin to loosen ever so slightly beneath the steady rhythm of his breathing. He didn’t flinch, didn’t try to move away from the weight of your grief. He bore it with you.

“I kept it together all shift,” you said, voice cracking. “Held it in, went through the motions, smiled for the parents who needed reassurance. I lied to them, even. I just wanted to get home.”

“You’re home now,” he said softly. “You don’t have to hold it in anymore.”

You sat like that for a while, wrapped in the cocoon of his arms, the quiet lull of the movie long forgotten. Your breathing slowed, your heartbeat syncing with his, and though your eyes still burned, the tears had stopped falling. You were spent, but not empty.

You had to remind yourself that tomorrow would be a new day. A new set of patients, new lives to touch, to try and save. You couldn’t bring back the ones you lost, but you could honor them. And the time you hadn’t been able to take during your shift to feel, that time was now. And you were safe enough to take it.

Eventually, you pulled away, wiping at your face with the back of your sleeve. Your voice was hoarse, but steadier than before. “I’m going to wake them up,” you sniffed. “I just want to sit with them for a bit.”

Gideon nodded, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Of course.”

He didn’t try to stop you, didn’t suggest waiting until morning or tell you to rest. He just looked at you the way he always did, like you were doing something sacred. Something brave.

“Want me to come with you?” he asked softly.

You shook your head, giving him a tired but genuine smile. “No. I won’t be long.”

You stood slowly, your body still aching from the day, and padded quietly toward the hallway. The house was dim and still, save for the low murmur of the credits rolling on the TV. Your footsteps barely made a sound as you made your way down to the nursery.

The door creaked slightly as you eased it open. The nightlight cast a soft glow across the room, painting the walls in hues of gold and blue. You stepped inside and let the quiet settle over you like a blanket.

Tiny breaths rose and fell in the toddler beds, soft and steady. The room smelled like lavender lotion and warm laundry, the hush of the white noise machine filling the corners like a lullaby. They’d only been tucked in about thirty minutes ago, still somewhere between deep sleep and the edges of a dream.

You knelt beside Ruthie’s bed first, brushing a curl away from her forehead as gently as you could.

“Bubba?” you whispered, giving her shoulder a light shake.

She stirred, a sleepy little grumble escaping her as she squinted up at you, rubbing at one eye with the back of her tiny fist. “Mmm?”

“You wanna watch a movie?” you asked softly, your voice barely louder than a breath.

Her sparkly eyes blinked open a little more, glistening with sleep but lighting up at the idea. She gave a slow, drowsy smile. “With Finn?”

You smiled back. “With Finn.”

That was all it took. She pushed her blanket off with clumsy determination, her stuffed bunny tumbling to the floor in the process. You scooped it up for her before reaching over to Finn’s bed, where he was already halfway awake, sensing movement in the room.

“Movie night,” you whispered, running your fingers through his soft hair.

He blinked at you sleepily, then looked at Ruthie, who was now sitting up with her arms outstretched. “’Kay,” he mumbled, already sliding his legs out from under the covers.

You gathered them both in your arms, their warm little bodies folding against you as naturally as breathing. Ruthie’s head tucked beneath your chin, Finn’s hand curling in your shirt.

“Miss you,” Finn said. “You read better than daddy.”

You kissed his cheek. “I know I do.”

Ruthie nodded. “You do voices. Daddy tries.”

Back in the living room, Gideon was still on the couch, now sitting up with the blanket draped over his shoulders. He looked up as you entered, his expression softening when he saw the kids in your arms.

“They couldn’t sleep either, huh?” he asked gently.

You shook your head, settling in beside him as the toddlers cuddled into your sides, Ruthie halfway in your lap. “Movie night,” you said simply.

He smiled and reached for the remote. “Then let’s find something good.”

And just like that, the four of you sat together in the dim light, wrapped in warmth and safety, with no expectations, only the comfort of being near the people you loved most.

[your-local-bi-panic]

Chapter 6 – “Crossing the Line”

It started small. That next week was packed—film sessions, weight room lifts, extra shooting after practice. The team was exhausted. Bodies sore. Tempers short.

But (Y/N) never slowed. She was a machine.

And Aubrey?

She noticed everything.

The way (Y/N)’s shirt clung to her back after conditioning. The way she bit her lip during free throws. The way she always, always found her first after a scrimmage.

It was becoming unbearable.

At Practice

Coach had the team running half-court drills. Contact-heavy. Competitive.

(Y/N) caught the ball on the wing. Nika closed in. One hard dribble. Step-back. Splash.

“Money!” she called.

“I’m guarding her next,” Lou groaned.

Coach Dailey shook her head. “Guarding her is optional, I guess.”

“You sure she’s human?” Ice muttered under her breath.

“She’s not,” Aubrey said, arms crossed, jaw tight.

(Y/N) winked at her from the court. “Jealous?”

“No. I just want my reps.”

Coach Geno clapped. “Alright, switch teams. Aubrey, you’re on her now.”

Perfect.

They lined up. (Y/N) gave her a smug little smirk, eyes locked like they weren’t just teammates anymore.

“Gonna stop me, Griffin?” she whispered.

Aubrey smirked right back. “Try me.”

Ball in. (Y/N) drove hard left. Aubrey matched her, hips colliding, feet tangled. The contact was brutal. Fast. Close.

Aubrey slapped the ball. It bounced off (Y/N)’s knee and out of bounds.

Whistle.

“Ball the other way,” Geno called.

(Y/N) looked stunned—and impressed. “Damn.”

Aubrey was breathing hard. So was she.

Neither looked away.

“That’s enough,” Coach Dailey muttered. “Get a room.”

Laughter exploded from the sideline.

“I KNEW IT!” Nika yelled. “I’ve been saying!”

Jordan pointed. “Y’all been weird since July.”

Aubrey flushed. “Nothing’s happening.”

“Sure,” Lou said. “That’s why you two breathe the same air and look like you invented tension.”

(Y/N) just grinned, unbothered. “They’re jealous.”

After Practice – Team Lounge

The team sprawled across the couches, bean bags, and floor of the player lounge, still sticky from practice but buzzing with the high of the win. Pizza boxes littered the coffee table, and someone had hijacked the Bluetooth speaker to blast a throwback playlist.

“Alright,” Nika said, holding up a red plastic cup like a microphone, “we’re playing ‘Call It Out.’ You see something, you say something.”

Aubrey groaned, sinking deeper into the bean bag. “This always ends in drama.”

“Exactly,” Nika grinned. “And today’s theme is... secret crushes.”

The room howled.

(Y/N), curled up on the couch in sweats and a hoodie, raised a brow. “Y’all bold. This what bonding looks like now?”

Ice pointed. “You scared?”

“Of you?” (Y/N) smirked. “Never.”

“Okay then,” Lou cut in. “I’m starting it off. I absolutely think Aubrey and (Y/N) are in love and hiding it.”

A chorus of gasps and fake-shocked faces exploded.

(Y/N) blinked. “Whoa—”

Aubrey choked on her drink. “Excuse me?!”

“You heard her,” Dorka said, barely hiding her grin. “The eye contact alone is criminal.”

“I do not look at her weird,” Aubrey said, flustered.

“You do, though,” Nika said, pointing dramatically. “You look at her like she cured your childhood trauma.”

The room erupted in cackling.

(Y/N), surprisingly quiet through it all, finally chimed in. “I’m flattered.”

Aubrey turned, wide-eyed. “Don’t—”

“What?” (Y/N) said, all innocence. “They think we’re in love. You gonna deny me now, after everything we’ve been through?”

More laughter. Some of the girls pretended to wipe tears. Ice started fake-clapping. “My favorite couple. My girls.”

“We’re not dating,” Aubrey said, though her face was a full-blown shade of crimson now.

(Y/N) just leaned back, smug as ever. “Not yet.”

And that’s when Aubrey knew she was screwed.

Later That Night – Shared Dorm Suite

They walked in quiet. Not tense, not awkward—just... aware. The teasing from the team echoed behind them, too fresh to ignore.

(Y/N) tossed her keys on the counter. “You were real quiet after Lou’s little declaration.”

Aubrey gave her a look. “I was trying not to combust.”

(Y/N) grinned. “Was it the ‘cured childhood trauma’ part?”

Aubrey crossed her arms, leaning against the kitchen island. “No. It was the ‘we’re in love’ part.”

“Oh?” (Y/N) said, stepping closer. “That bothered you?”

Aubrey blinked. “I didn’t say it bothered me.”

“Right. Of course. You love being called out.”

Aubrey tilted her head. “You were enjoying it.”

“Maybe.”

“And what was that little ‘not yet’ comment?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Just keeping you on your toes.”

“Cute.”

(Y/N) walked past her toward the couch, but Aubrey followed. “You know what I think?”

“Tell me.”

“I think,” Aubrey said, circling the couch so they were facing each other, “you like making me flustered.”

(Y/N) leaned her head against the cushion, smirking. “What gave it away?”

“You’re evil.”

“I’m charming.”

“You’re dangerous,” Aubrey muttered, voice lower now.

The air thickened again.

(Y/N) stood slowly, closing the distance. “You’re the one looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to do something reckless.”

Aubrey exhaled. “What if I do?”

(Y/N) tilted her head, brushing her fingers lightly down Aubrey’s arm. “Then do it.”

The air snapped like a rubber band.

Aubrey stepped forward—hands cupping (Y/N)’s face—and kissed her.

Not soft. Not uncertain.

Heat.

Months of sidelong glances, lingering touches, almost-confessions—all of it burned up in that one kiss. (Y/N)’s hands were in her hair, Aubrey’s grip firm at her waist. They moved like they knew each other’s rhythm already.

They broke apart only to breathe—foreheads touching, hearts racing.

“Still think we’re not dating?” (Y/N) whispered.

Aubrey laughed, breathless. “We’re so screwed.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) whispered. “But damn, that was worth it.”

[binochu]

Spellbound - Harvey x Female Farmer

Chapter 4 - Dr. Fickle

The farmer and her doctor, but what else?

When morning comes, I’m assaulted by the repercussions of last night. Squinting through crusty eyes, I desperately stumble to the kitchen for some water and anything else for this awful hangover.

I down two glasses of water and three Ibuprofens before I set the coffee machine. Flashbacks of last night make me groan in embarrassment as I watch the coffee drip from its spout.

I just can’t believe what I did, it doesn’t even feel real. I can’t remember the last time I was so hung up on a person that I said their name instead of…

The machine finishes with an obnoxious beep that makes my head pound even more. I pour the fresh coffee into my lucky mug and drink it black. Both as punishment and in pure apathy.

I glance at the calendar on the kitchen wall. 

Fuck.

It’s Friday, which means I have some deliveries to make.

“Don’t forget your appointment on Friday.”

“UUGGGHHH,” I groan loudly, remembering today is when I get my stitches removed.

Harvey’s voice echoes in my head as force myself into the shower and do my best to scrub off last night’s shame. 

I instantly regret wiping away the condensation on the mirror as I’m met with sunken, red eyes and pale, chapped lips. 

Oh well, I think to myself, He’s seen me looking worse than this.

After getting dressed and packing up some orders to save me a trip later, I head out the door with little time to spare.

I sigh as I grasp the handle of the clinic.

I wonder how Harvey is feeling today. He seemed pretty drunk last night. He probably feels just as shitty as I do.

This thought puts me at enough ease and gives me enough courage to walk into the clinic with my head held high.

I was expecting to see him as soon as I walked in, just as I did a week ago after my accident, behind the front desk.

Instead, Maru greets me as I walk in. We met on my first day in Penican Town. Robin invited me over for dinner.

She’s a sweet and smart girl, a bit younger than me, but mature and responsible for her age. We instantly became friendly.

I didn’t know she worked here. Judging by her uniform, she seems to be a nurse or medical assistant of some kind.

“Hi, Bino,” she says with a smile, “Here to see the doctor?”

“Yup,” I reply with the best smile I can muster, “To get these stitches out.”

I lift my bandaged hand so she can see.

“Got it, I’ll let Harvey know you’re here.”

“Thanks.”

I sit in the waiting room and entertain myself with the PSA posters hung around the clinic.

My eyes eventually land on Maru, who works on the computer, resting her chin on her hand. Not that I haven’t noticed it before, but she’s quite pretty and stylish with her red hair and glasses. Her eyes are large and bright, and her tulip-shaped lips frame a sweet smile. 

I start to imagine the nature of her relationship with Harvey. How long has she known him? Are they close? 

“Bino?”

I lock eyes with Harvey who is standing at the door leading to the back of the clinic.

He’s looked better, with eyes just as red and sunken as mine. At least his hair is combed and his clothes are smooth, I didn’t bother with any of that today.

“I’m ready for you,” he says gesturing towards the back.

There was a raspiness to his voice and timidness in his eyes.

I follow him to the same room as last time. It felt comforting to be somewhere familiar, but the memories attached to this room hurt a little. And I’m not talking about the stitches.

“How has the hand been?” he asks as he sets up his instruments.

I climb up on the exam table.

“Itchy,” I reply. 

“Good,” he says, “That means they’re ready to come out.”

Our conversation is so plain. It’s making me question whether I’ve been overthinking the nature of our relationship. Have I misread him this entire time? Has he always just been my doctor and I just his patient?

Harvey brings over a rolling table and instructs me to rest my hand on it so he can work.

He starts cutting and plucking out the stitches, one by one. 

His hands are gentle, nothing like Sam’s last night. Regardless, the procedure is nauseating.

I rub my eyes with my free hand and try to focus on anything other than the plucking and snipping.

“Did you have a fun night?”

“Sorry?” I stutter.

“I saw you at the saloon last night,” he continues without looking up from his work, “At the bar.”

“Oh,” I laugh nervously, “Yeah, I’m paying for it today, though.”

“Hope it was worth it,” he says, still working on my stitches.

I try to read his face. His expression remains neutral, his eyes laser-focused. As usual, he’s giving me nothing.

“Not really,” I say.

“Oh?” he takes the bait.

“Yeah,” I sigh, “What about you?”

He pauses for a second before plucking out the next stitch.

“Well…” he says, “I’ve had better nights.”

I can’t help the lop-sided smile that’s plastered on my face.

“So…” I say trying to keep the momentum going, “What do you do when you aren’t working, doctor?”

He huffs a subtle laugh at my question.

“Do you really want to know?” his tone is playful.

I almost completely forget about the stitches.

“Of course,” I say.

“Let's see then…” he starts, still keeping his motions gentle and precise, “I’m more of a homebody, I do a lot of reading and… tinkering you could say.”

“That’s sweet.”

Harvey clears his throat but his face remains unshaken.

“You and Sam seem to get along well,” he says and my ears perk up, “It’s nice to see you making friends in town.”

Is he asking what I think he’s asking?

“Yeah, we actually have a date planned later,” I lie.

He’s on the last stitch but he pauses and doesn’t respond for a moment.

“I wish you wouldn’t,” he speaks under his breath.

Huh?

“What?”

He looks up at me, the embarrassment on his face is satisfying. 

Eyes wide, cheeks flushed, mouth slightly agape.

“I-” he stutters, “I wish you wouldn’t…”

Now I’m flushed.

And kind of speechless.

“Why,” I start, “Why not?

“I’m not sure,” he says with a furrowed brow before turning his attention back to the procedure.

That last stitch hurt more than the rest.

Before I have the chance to say anything else, he finishes up, cleans my hand, and takes off his gloves.

“Harvey,” I drop the formalities, “Why not?”

He looks over at me, conflicted.

“Bino, I’m sorry. I don’t have the right to say something like that. I’ve overstepped,” he gazes at his feet.

“Did you mean it?”

He doesn’t answer me.

“Did you?” I repeat myself.

Again, he says nothing. So I hop off the exam table and walk towards him, stepping into his personal space. The room is small but I bet he feels like it’s even smaller now.

“I don’t get it, Harvey,” I say, sounding more disappointed than accusing.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, avoiding my eyes as I look up at him.

“Fine,” I settle, “Then are we done here?”

I lift up my now scarred hand.

“Yes.”

Without another word, I walk past him and leave the clinic.

After finishing my orders, I head back home, barely making it back before dark clouds cover the sky and it starts to pour.

After a much-needed shower without a bandaged hand, some dinner, and a glass of wine, I settle in on the couch with a book to keep my mind off how weird today has been.

I mean, it still kind of hurts, but I think I’ve grown used to it. It’s obvious he’s conflicted about his feelings and if he’s not ready, who am I to force him? It’s not exactly ethical for a doctor to flirt with his patient while she sits on the exam table.

So maybe I should just go back to hating him. For the sake of convenience.

I start to nod off on the couch. The soft sound of the rain and the settling of the farmhouse is peaceful and makes my eyelids feel so heavy. I thought it was a dream at first, but just as my head started to fall back, I heard rapid knocks at the door.

Then before I can even question it, I hear it again. I rush over.

I open the door and standing on my porch, soaking wet and panting, is Harvey.

AN: Sorry for edging y'all for a week. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I promise a sooner release for the next one cuz this one def leaves off on a cliffhanger.

prev. chapter | next chapter

[rosebarry16]

☆Late night conversations☆

Warning : light NSFW (just making out), Mention of light injury

⋆.˚ ⭒.˚⋆.˚ ⭒.˚⋆.˚ ⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ⭒.˚⋆.˚ ⭒.˚ ⋆.˚ ⭒.˚⋆.˚

The clock hits 2 AM, most of the people already left and the place was quiet like a mouse. Saira locked her office door and sighed, exhausted from the long day she gone through without taking a break from the delays. However she realized that makarov is still in his office on whatever he's doing in midnight...she rose a brow questioning herself why is he still here till the realization hits her, it's a late night shift.

She went to the coffee machine and pressed a few bottens to make the coffee layed her back on the huge machine waiting for it to end the process, she took off her glasses and closed her eyes. The nice feeling of closing her eyes washed over her and the smell of fresh black coffee has made her brain relax somehow, after the coffee maker was done making it, she took the cups and walked towards his office. Knocking it before entering

"Come in"

She heard him say, saira open the door with her elbow while supporting the grip of the cups with her hands. She walked in and puts the coffees on the desk to close the door, she turned around to face him and bowed down to greed him with a gentle mixed with tired and toned down voice

"こんばんは" (Good evening)

He greeted back with a smile, saira sat in one of the chairs provided in front of his desk. Her eyes were on his desk, pale of paperwork to sign to, pen, cigarettes ashtray along with a pack of cigarettes. Then followed up to makarov's eyes, which it tells her how much he's tired, her heart heaves at the sight. Saira hated seeing or sensing of any discomfort he might experience

"Why are you still here? I thought you left"

He asked, she snapped into reality. She cleared her throat trying to regain her normal emotional state.

"Yeah I'm afraid I can't go home since of course my car broke down this morning and I called one of my friends to come pick me up but she just went to moscow and left me"

His eyes darkened at the explanation of her not going home, especially the friend who left her and went away. Saira has the option to walk home but makarov hated the idea since she's gonna be in danger in no time. Even if she knows how to protect herself, it doesn't make him fully agree to that idea.

"That's terrible, I can drive you home or you can stay here and sleep on the couch"

"No I rather stay here since it's a damn long ride to get home and I don't have the energy to walk even"

Saira refused the request because she was too tired but she wanted to spend time with him alone and maybe they have a strong bond tonight or something related to romance between them..oh no her imagination is getting too big from how sleepy she is, she handed him the cup of coffee and took hers. He noticed a few scratches on her hands, curiously makarov took her hand gently and began to examine her injuries.

"What happened to your hands?"

"Oh, I got it while breaking up a fight between 2 cats, who were fighting under my desk"

"How do they get in?"

"Probably with anyone getting in or from windows, cats have their sneaky ways to get in"

He chuckled along with saira. He took a sip of his coffee. It's 4 a.m., and they were working on the paperwork together while quietly listening to the radio, a man telling a sad or a happy sets of love stories. Saira would imagine the scenario and each word the narrator says with her and vladimir, her heart beats for it. She tried to focus on the paperwork but the scenarios in her head is occupying her from reality to imagination. Without paying attention she slowly reached out his hand, holding it like she's asking to stay like this forever, vladimir knew what she was doing so he held hers back.

(Isn't that nice? A night without anyone but us alone..listening to the love affairs, holding hands. Please don't end this dream) she thought to herself, not wanting the moment to fly away. After a moment of silence, she decided to distract him and get to his lap. Saira unbuttoned her shirt a bit to reveal her cleveage and pretended that she's hot

"It's so hot in here"

He knew that she was pretending to tease him, he smirked while doing the paperwork. Saira continued until makarov spoke up in a sarcastic voice

"Are you trying to distract me?"

"Oh...no..it's so hot in here and I need to cool myself off"

She tried her best not to smile or laugh, she can't even look into his eyes cause she knew that he knows that she's just acting

"Nice try Saira"

"What? Sometimes you gotta unbutton a few buttons just to cool off"

"I'm guessing your teasing me"

"No I'm not"

They enjoy the playful banter

"Besides, if I was distracting you then I would have done this"

She said while getting up and went to makarov then sat on his lap

"This is a distraction"

He chuckled, his hands slowly gone up from her gluteus medius to her waist. Her smile never faded and held the arm chair gently, after a few moments of silence. Saira rotated to face makarov, her hands were placed in his shoulders while his were still both at her both sides of her waist. Their eyes glued on each other never leaving, they physically affection need was raising between them. Makarov slowly took saira's glasses off of her face and puts it aside without leaving his gaze on hers.

"I missed you..."

"I missed you too.."

They leaned in for a soft, loving kiss. Saira's heart beated faster each moment, the room was filled with sounds of their lips smaking, their hands roamed each other's body. Makarov unbuttoned the rest of her shirt and slided down to her halfway elbow revealing her chest, they stopped kissing and their faces were still close to each other. The love in their eyes seems it never dies.

"I don't want this moment to end.."

"Neither do I, моя любовь" (my love)

They went back to kissing, he kissed her all the way to her neck, suck, licking and bites her neck to mark her his. Saira's moans were soft and low, enjoying makarov's lips against her sweet spot on her neck, leaving hickeys as she ran her fingersthroughhis soft black hair, wanting more. Then his lips got back to hers. The blush on her face grew as her mascara melted. Their tongue met each other with a new level of excitement, saira and makarov pulled away still looking at each other.

"I never thought… we’d end up here, You’ve always been so… untouchable to me. And now, I don’t know if this changes anything, or if I want it to change everything."

"I can’t pretend this doesn’t mean something. Not with you"

⋆.˚ ⭒.˚⋆.˚ ⭒.˚⋆.˚ ⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ⭒.˚⋆.˚ ⭒.˚ ⋆.˚ ⭒.˚⋆.˚

Hiii guys! It's been awhile for writing a page and I'm pretty sure this one is good since I didn't rushed on it and called it a day but I think I did a good job on this one so let me know what you think! 💞💞💞

Also this song fits this page :

[darklcy]

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 : 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 | 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : armin arlert x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.3k words 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: slow burn, bad language, reader experiences low self esteem, negative habits, skipping meals, lack of sleep. 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: soldier life is catching up, but almost drowns you in the process. fortunately, you don't have to face it alone. 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

Keith Shadis stood at the forest entrance patiently, waiting for the ambush of cadets to line up and commence maneuver gear training. On his mark, he released the trainees free to the skies and into the towers of trees, trailing behind on his own set of gear to inspect, like a hawk tracking its prey. 

Today was dedicated solely to drills and Titan-target practices, as well as a test of endurance and stamina. Lectures upon lectures on maneuver gear safety always repeated themselves before take off, as rules must be obeyed to prevent any measly accidents. 

But all to be focused on right now was losing your sense of reality to the wind and the trees. The satisfactory sensation of feeling weightless to the wires that pulled your body from trunk to trunk. So light and fresh like a leaf floating down to the forest floor. Funny, this machine taught you to kill, and yet it worked so beautifully. You’d never get tired from this.

In the distant right, Sasha’s cackles echoed along the branches, meshing together with Connie’s and Jean’s hollers. Up ahead, the infamous Shiganshina trio grouped together like a pack of wolves. Somewhere far off you could pick up the occasional yell of a stray trainee who’d crash landed. It was during these trying times where trainees who weren’t capable fell out and returned to their homes. 

As you sharply swung along a corner, your sights locked on the familiar wooden cut-out of a fifteen-meter Titan, the nape of the neck clean of wounds. You readied your swords from their sheaths with a pump of gas, boosting acceleration. Arms raised in the air, you prepared yourself. 

A shout escaped your throat as the swords sliced down on the neck, carving a precise cut on the makeshift Titan. The wood tumbled to the dirt below. A perfect kill..!

You almost laughed as you abandoned the Titan to pursue the hunt. Not too far away from the cutout, a zip of wires grew louder from behind. A certain roommate beamed at you as she neared.

“Hey [Y/N]! Mind if I tag along?”

You cocked your head. 

“You just want to latch onto my kills!”

Mina dramatically gasped.

“Can’t we just hangout like the friends we are?”

You pressed on the gas trigger and propelled forward.

“Nope, I don’t trust you.”

Mina huffed at the playful tone in your voice, soon gliding away to resume her hunt elsewhere. 

A little while after the brief encounter, another Titan stood in the distance. The size was a bit shorter this time, standing at around ten-meters, and once again, unscathed nape. 

Seems like luck was at your beckoning today. Gripping onto the swords, you launched your hook grabbles and braced yourself to make the cut. 

SHIIING

…Only for the kill to be stolen.

“Hahaha sorry [Y/N]! Couldn’t resist!”

The hooks released from the cutout and into the tree trunk beside you, allowing you to softly swing as you watched Mina fly away, a trail of steam dissipating behind her. A scoff of disbelief was all you could muster.

What the fuck? 

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

End results noted a total of seven Titan kills. 

A comparable score, considering the hunting was done solo. 

“We managed to get ten kills! Not to mention, when we’d split up, we covered more ground. A success, I’d say.”

Connie bragged while Sasha enthusiastically ate her porridge, lifting a spoon to emphasize his point. Jean made a scene to stick his nose into the conversation.

“Allow me to add that I got a higher score on technique, so if you need any maneuver gear lessons, I’m your guy.”

Connie swatted at his chest.

“Shut up, you wish.”

You heard Mina giggle beside you. Her elbow gently nudged your side.

“Did you hear how much Mikasa got? Thirteen.”

Thirteen..?

“Holy shit, really?”

Connie barged in from across the table.

“Yes! She’s amazing.”

Sasha planted her palms onto the wood to lean in. 

“I saw her in action! She flies so fast, it’s like you can barely see her coming.”

Jean’s face warmed noticeably. “She’s incredible.”

The group unanimously agreed. Mikasa denied the laws of nature and succeeded in winning at any obstacle thrown at her. Some theorized she wasn’t human. 

You threw a glance her way. Such straight posture, no hint of life beside the occasional blink, calmly eating her meal like she was at the King’s tea time. Where every cadet appeared exhausted, her skin radiated without any bruises, sweat, and dirt. Maybe she was non-human. 

A frown weighs the corners of your mouth when you turn back to your dinner.

 Seven gets lost in thirteen.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

WHAM

Your spine smacked the rough clay as you tumbled ridiculously, legs falling over your head when it came to a stop. Annie was a ferocious partner, not breaking a single worry in this pitiful battle you were putting up. Throwing a leg over your waist, pinning you to the Earth, she jabs the wooden knife into your chest.

“I win.”

You blinked a few times. All you could respond with was a weak groan. 

The girl doesn’t hold out a hand to help you get up. Instead, she saunters off to find a new opponent, one more worthy of a fight, you presumed. Rolling to your stomach, the tension in your thighs feel like it could snap. You shakily stand back up.

“She’s a tough one.”

Reiner towers over your shoulder with hands on his hips. You notice him watching the said girl with an unreadable expression. He claps a palm on your shoulder. It almost knocks you over.

“You okay?”

You nod. “..M’ fine.”

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself. I can see it happening already.”

He points with his chin towards Annie again. 

“She wins against everyone. She’s just strong like that.”

Strong.

“Huh..”

You feel him give your back two heavy pats. 

“You got this.”

He stomps away after that. Watching him leave, that same frown comes back. 

..

“[Y/N], did you see what happened today? I was training with Connie, and we came up with this new fighting technique! I swear it’s like we can read each other’s minds or something.”

All you could hear was noise, loud, blatant noise. Sasha plopped your bread in her mouth. You didn’t even notice.

“Also, last night I had the strangest dream. I was back home in the forest, and I was hunting game with my father like the ol’ days, but then this huge bear came out of nowhere…and then…”

The Dauper girl’s story faded through your ears into the files of your brain. Dinner had gone cold by now, your silverware limp in your hold. The bowl of vegetable stew encaptured your gaze in a trance, and if you looked away you were sure to be cursed.

“Hey, you alright?”

Mina gently caressed your shoulder, breaking you free from hypnosis.

“Yeah, yeah..I’m fine.”

Your words dripped with uncertainty. Both tablemates frowned, but nonetheless carried on with their meal. Spooning up a bit of soup, you grimaced when you swallowed. Cold..

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

Seven knocks down to two or three in the passing weeks. The downturn of lips becomes more permanent than temporary. More bruises and wounds make home underneath your uniform. And somehow at the end of the day, the exhaustion feels more intense than the day before. 

A cadet’s routine was never advertised as glamorous, but everywhere you looked, no one else appeared to be drowning. The break in the water was close, just an arm’s length away if you stretched hard enough. The waves swarmed your body with a strong turbulence, but you kept pushing and pushing, fingertips raised above to graze the surface.

 And for a moment you can breathe, a deep inhale relieving your lungs from the strain of water…but it’s in that bliss when the water controls you again, pulling you deeper into an abyss.

Shadis imprinted the hairs on your neck to forever remain stiff, on edge and paranoid for more lecturing and criticism. In the midst of your drowning, did the man see the effort? Was this war amongst yourself just in your head, an illusion, or did he perceive the strength you were desperately wanting? Craving?

The mystery is frustrating. 

….

The empty room draws a deep frown. The bunks usually covered in strewn blankets, harness straps and roommates gossiping were vacant and darkened with the night. Your eyebrows furrow, a puff of air flowing out your nose. The room felt wrong without the presence of comrades. Stepping out of the cabin, the door closes with a creak. 

The wooden steps became the next best solace as you perched yourself at the top, arms wrapping around pulled up knees, chin resting on top. The mess hall served as a beacon of light compared to the isolated bubble you resided in. Through the warm toned windows you could see the cadets enjoying themselves with the same vegetable stew and loaf of bread that was prepared each night. 

…Maybe this time alone was a blessing in disguise. Perhaps that’s what you needed. A break from all the noise. 

Raising your hands to rest on your head, your eyelids drooped until they closed, weariness grabbing the reins. A distant cry of crickets join you in the dark, their chorus bellowing beyond the pitch black forest. Behind shut doors, the moon glistens her rays on your skin like a comforting embrace, welcoming you to raise your head and let her caress your face. 

It’s tempting. Her touch is soft and gentle, approaching you carefully as if not to spook you. 

“...[Y/N]..?”

It threatens the emotion in your chest. Her spotlight paints the reminder of your solidarity on the wooden steps. And yet she’s pushing you, cheering you on from her place in the sky. With that, she briefly leaves, the clouds swooping in to conceal her light.

Your face rolls over on your knees, cheek now smushed against sleeves. 

“[Y/N]?”

…?

Has she come back?

Your eyes meet blue as you lift your head. 

…The blonde stood uncomfortably a few feet away from the porch. His fingers pulled at his sleeves before his arms decided to cross behind his back. His eyes, so large and worried, blinked at you in rhythms; twice, once, twice, once.

You blinked back.

“...Hey, Armin.”

He glances to the beacon of light.

“Aren’t you heading to dinner..?”

Your hand falls to dangle by your shoe.

“..Not tonight. I’m not hungry.”

He pops his knuckles at his sides. 

“You sure? Skipping meals isn’t good for you..”

“I’m sure.”

His frown deepens. 

You’ve nestled back into your home already, staring upon the shadows filtering throughout the camp. 

..His footsteps trudge over to the steps, and you face him when he sits beside you, body position matching yours. Armin lost his stare into the forest, fingers tapping sporadically from where they laid over his biceps. He doesn’t mind that you observe him. 

You followed him into the trees and rested there, the wind and crickets harmonizing in a beautiful symphony. 

Armin was a calm in the storm type of person. His best friend seemed to speak for three, never afraid to holler his frustrations, but on the other side of the spectrum lay this boy, the polite boy who loved to read. He’d apologize for existing, apologize for taking up space, before he ever sat down to introduce himself. 

“You’re easy to watch.”

It took everything in you to not choke. Armin instantly panicked.

“I-In training, I mean..! When we’re doing drills? Combat drills?”

His words puddled out in a hurry, the skin of his cheeks blaring bright red. 

"Pfft.."

“I just mean, you’re impressive! Or, inspiring? I uh, I’m not good at that stuff, so-,”

Your sudden boisterous laughter made him freeze. Armin couldn’t see your face anymore now that it was ducked over your thighs, shoulders trembling with cackles. Your arms caressed your aching stomach as if it could cease the attack, but it just kept advancing. 

“Uh…”

Finally rising off your thighs, you swooped in deep breaths to calm your heartbeat, a couple giggles escaping here and there.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you laugh..”

You waved him off with a hand. 

“No, no, don’t be. I liked it.”

His face was a never ending tomato. Now it looked like he was sweating a bit. 

“But, what you were saying…you watch me?”

Armin smacked both palms to his face. “I was trying to compliment your skills, but I apologize that it came off as stalkerish.”

Another wave of laughs pass through your smile. “It didn’t, it just caught me really off guard.”

He reveals his blue eyes to you again. “That’s good, I guess..”

Your expression slightly dims when you turn away from him.

“Well, thank you.”

Armin’s lips part, but then close.

Wafting through the crevices, the moon rejoins you on the steps, this time encasing Armin in her light. By now, the mess hall was dismissed, sending cadets off to bed to end the day and rest for tomorrow. 

“Guess dinner’s over..”

His comment reawakes your reality, that tomorrow brings new hardships and restless nights. It makes you wince.  

“I’m gonna..head off to bed.”

He twists to you while you stand. He’s caught in perplexity, you can see it clearly, but his mouth doesn’t move.

“...Goodnight, Armin.”

Armin perks up.

“For sure..! See you tomorrow.”

He rises to his feet and moves down the steps in a swift motion, his blonde hair vanishing the further he walks away.

His departure has you glued to the entrance door, hand wrapped around the handle but still staring off the direction Armin went. Your brows worry themselves on your forehead, unsure to be confused, sad, or drowsy.

Hauling the door open, you decide the latter. 

[satoshi-mochida]

Rainbow Cotton for PS5, PS4, Xbox One, Switch, and PC launches May 9

From Gematsu

SUCCESS Corporation-developed 3D shoot ’em up Rainbow Cotton will launch digitally for PlayStation 5, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, Switch, and PC via Steam on May 9, publisher ININ Games announced.

Rainbow Cotton first launched for Dreamcast on January 20, 2000 in Japan. It was never released in the west.

Get the latest details below.

Remake

The reimagining of epic proportions through the power of remakes. Rainbow Cotton is the epitome of this process, breathing new life into the original 2000 Dreamcast release of Rainbow Cotton with stunning visuals, innovative gameplay mechanics, an added local two-player mode, and even more magic. It’s a journey into the retro past, but reinvented for the present. This new release of Rainbow Cotton comes packed with many new witchy twists and upgrades. Delivering an even more immersive and visually stunning experience, taking you on an arcade-inspired journey through a whimsical world! Read on to see some of the new features that the 2024 release of Rainbow Cotton includes:

Bring on the Nostalgia – The Retro Mode allows you to experience the charm of the original Dreamcast version– as authentic as it can possibly be!

Enhanced Gaming Experience – Revamped snap-back, lock-on targeting, controller rumble & speaker support, and more for a more luxurious gaming experience.

Cotton‘s New Look – Immerse yourself in the magic of the upgraded, stunning visuals!

Dedicated Little Sibling Mode – Play as Cotton and Silk together with your Player 2 in this newly added local co-op mode!

Team Sub or Team Dub?! – The fully animated cutscenes return in their original Japanese dubbing with translated English, French, Spanish, Italian, and German subtitles for your viewing pleasure!

Get on this magical ride and have a look at our fresh, new and offbeat video for Rainbow Cotton!

Remaster

As opposed to the remake, a remaster describes a—mostly visual—overhaul of a game. In other words: same gameplay, new look. Cotton Reboot is the high-definition deluxe remaster of the cult classic, Cotton: Fantastic Night Dreams. This high-definition remaster received a modern makeover with enhanced visuals, refined sound, and seamless gameplay. It’s a celebration of nostalgia with a contemporary twist.

Emulation / Port

Finally, let’s take a look at the 2021 release of Panorama Cotton. In this emulation, we faithfully recreated the original 1994 SEGA Mega Drive experience for audiences to enjoy today. We essentially trick your console into believing itself to be an arcade machine to run the original SEGA Mega Drive version—no gameplay changes, and no enhancements. Emulating a game is a testament to preserving gaming heritage while embracing the advancements of today’s technology.

Watch a new trailer below. View a new set of screenshots at the gallery.

Release Date Trailer

[sinestrosmind]

A Chance to Say Goodbye (2023)

Summary: Tony Stark, ever the futurist, had put a hidden protocol behind Flame's Pack Rally Protocol. When Pack Rally is activated, this hidden protocol, the Recovery Protocol, is activated. And as per protocol, Alpha aided in carrying it out.

Flame has followed Alpha's guidance, had led her through finding the pieces and putting together the heart of the Recovery Protocol. Now, she receives a final message from the late Tony Stark, has a chance to say goodbye, and finally meets Recovery.

Warnings: Endgame spoilers, Grieving

Characters: Tony Stark (Hologram), Flame Copps

Wordcount: 2,138

In front of Flame stood a reflection of the past with its chest wide open. A spitting image of Tony's MK42, but with the colors and color placement of his MK3. Admittedly stunning metallic candy apple red paint with a bold metallic candy gold, highlights of silver in select places. Another stunning creation by Tony Stark.

The now late Tony Stark.

Who Flame had watched leave the world just 24 hours ago.

The image was still fresh in her mind, and it hurt. It hurt so so badly. But his little Recovery Protocol, a failsafe he'd added in the back of her Pack Rally Protocol, did just as intended. Alpha guided her, as per protocol, even in a heavily damaged and barely functioning suit, from the point of drop-off from Wakanda in California to the small walk to the old mansion. He walked her through finding the pieces, from her suits to the parts of the machine that stood before her now. It kept her occupied, focused, didn't let her mind wander away from her down a dark path.

She'd found her suits; sixteen brand new, shiny Iron Cat suits, hidden from her over the years. And she'd put together the… What appears to be a robot. Definitely not an actual Iron Man suit, she's seen the insides of it. There's no room for a human to ever fit within the machine. But there was just one last piece to put into place; the arc reactor.

A New Element reactor specifically, the latest mark. This robot's heart. She connects the plugin to the baseplate within the protected cylinder for it before pushing the glowing device into place with a small click. She then guides the plates of the robot's chest to close, the plates locking into place with various small clicks. Then, she steps back, nervous to see what will come of this.

The machine's eyes flick on, a pale cyan glowing softly, and it tilts its head down to look at Flame with a slow, soft mechanical whir. The android stares for a moment before tilting its head up just slightly, like it was looking at another person taller than Flame, and then a hologram is projected from somewhere near the arc reactor.

Flame gasps softly, ears tilting back and she takes a step away when she sees who the hologram is of. And then she covers her mouth as tears well up in her eyes when he speaks.

"Hey Flame," the recorded hologram greeted with his hands tucked into his pockets. "Welcome to the Recovery Protocol. If you're seeing this, best case scenario you broke in or stumbled upon this. I hope it is. God, I hope-…" He trailed off, a hand raising to cover his mouth as he looked away and to the ground as he normally does when he was in deep thought. His mood was quick to change, though, lowering his hand and his eyes falling back onto the general direction of Flame as he quickly picked back up his previous, normal, somewhat playful yet firm tone. "If it is, turn this recording off now, now's not the time and you don't need to worry about the future. Leave that to me."

There was a pause as the recording of Tony thought. "But," he began, the playfulness of his usual tone being replaced by a sadness. "Worst case scenario, you followed the instructions I left you- built the suit, installed the AI for it, watching a hologram recording of me explain this all to you. Which means I'm dead- or presumed dead. Or in a coma." He was rambling, which he usually did when he was stressed or had something on his mind. "-Just, something happened to me to engage A.L.P.H.A.'s Recovery Protocol, leading you here."

Tony sighs, raising a hand to scratch the back of his head as he took a couple steps across the front of the room he was in when he recorded the message. "You probably haven't flown in a while," he says, a sadness still to his tone. "Either too busy or too depressed- or too busy being depressed." Tony clearly was trying to cheer Flame up with a little joke, as his normal tone had somewhat come back, but it was quick to fade again with his next words.

"That's fine, really," he reassures with a nod, looking to the general direction of Flame again. "You'll get back in the air when you're ready," he continues. "And hopefully technically-not-me me will be by your side, just like how you and I used to fly." There's a pain in his voice, and clear in his eyes even in the holographic recording.

"He's, really just a glorified sentinel robot, if I'm being honest," Tony explains, beginning to ramble again. "Nobody can wear him, don't have to worry about anyone putting him on and flying off in him. Don't have to worry about anyone stealing him either, he can fight," he says with a shrug.

There was a pause for a few moments before Tony began speaking again."Y'know, I just realized," Tony says with a sharp turn and a couple steps across back where he started when the recording began. "You're probably pacing around him- curious, maybe a little weary, definitely wide eyed, just like when we met." Tony was right, he was generally always right. Flame wasn't surprised at all that he was right.

"Or," Tony began again. "You've locked onto hologram me and haven't moved since this started, and I really don't blame you." Another attempt at a joke, the life back in his voice, and it did get Flame to crack a smile. "If you're pacing," Tony quickly continues. "You probably have noticed how he always turns to face you, how when you turn and switch directions his head follows, like he's studying, learning, calculating. Because he is, to a degree." As Tony speaks, he's gesturing to the Iron Man suit that is projecting the recorded message.

"There was really only so much I could do before I ran out of time to work on him," Tony explains. "I got the important stuff. The personality, I absolutely had to get the voice synthesizer working, you always said you enjoyed hearing me talk so I just had to get it right." As he was listing off and explaining, Tony had been wandering a bit, his back now to Flame- or where she would be if she was sitting still. "I think I did okay," he begins, quickly as he turns around to face the way he was originally again, hands out of his pockets and open, palms facing Flame as if he was explaining or introducing something. "But it doesn't really matter what I think. It only matters what you think." Tony says, hands ending up back in his pockets again.

"I made sure to add major memories of us," he starts, turning to look at the Iron Man suit beside him. "The dates, working on our best suits, and things you like, a lot- among other general major memories, like the… New York thing. All of it I uploaded into his databanks. Maybe then he could really connect with you and help you." Tony sounds worried and hurt again as he stares the suit down. "He's got all my schematics, all my plans, all that I've ever written down or recorded in my personal files or in any Stark Industries files. He can build anything you want him to, just like I could." Of course he would, he wouldn't leave Flame of all people flying in the dark. Alone.

"Make sure to watch those recordings of all my tests on my suits I did when I first started, I think you'll like them- especially if you're feeling down." There's a forced playfulness to Tony's voice now, Flame can hear it. He's hurting just as much as she is, he's just able to hide it.

"And, hey," Tony starts, kneeling down to be closer to eye level with Flame. He knew she'd be on the floor, he had to, the holographic recording of him is looking right at her, right in her eyes. "Flame," his tone was soft, kind, hurt. "It's okay," he reassures. "I know how you are; you probably fought yourself to exhaustion and then some and you were unable to say goodbye to me. Or they wouldn't let you into the hospital to see me one last time." Tony pauses for a moment, letting Flame breathe and trying to collect himself. He didn't have to fully hide with Flame.

"It's okay, Flame." he says, voice pained and hushed. "It's okay." He gives Flame a reassuring nod and time to breathe again. "Now's your chance to say goodbye."

Flame takes time to catch her breath, trying to control her breathing, trying to steady herself so she can speak. It seems Tony had planned for this as well, he moves to sitting instead of kneeling now, and it seems he's waiting.

It's a few good minutes before Flame is able to compose herself enough to move closer to the holographic recording, and she waits. She waits for his wandering eyes to settle, and once she and the recording of Tony lock eyes, Flame almost breaks again. A flash of his wounded self that she had seen just yesterday appears in her mind's eye and she flinches. She closes her eyes, looks away, pained as more sobs are ripped from her. The feline shakes her head. She couldn't-

It's another few minutes before Flame composes herself again, and she moves towards the hologram seeking comfort. Head bowed, ears tilted back, fur on her face damp with tears. "Goodbye, Tony." Flame whispers, her voice hoarse and weak. That somewhat familiar faint hum was shortly replaced with silence after she'd spoken, and it was deafening.

"Well hello to you too, Flame." An all too familiar voice broke the silence. Gentle and caring with a hint of playfulness. Deeper than what she was used to, and with a slight robotic echo. Flame stared up at the robot, tired and irritated eyes wide. Similarly, the robot stared down upon her for a moment before moving and speaking again.

"Alright, c'mon. Hey," it had began as it knelt down and wiped away a stray tear from Flame's face. "No more tears." It- he. He told her, helping her to stand and supporting her. Flame complied, though reluctantly, but she had no strength or will to put up a good fight. "Time for sleep, come on." He urged her gently, staying by her side and resting a hand on her shoulder as he walked her over to the nest of pillows and blankets in the corner of the workshop.

Flame slowed to a stop as the robot stepped away and tossed a few of the topmost blankets out of the way, revealing a premade nest beneath. He then promptly sat down in the dip in the blankets and looked to Flame, seeming to expect something from her judging by his posture and the small "Well?" gesture he'd made with his hands.

The feline's gaze fell to the floor, one ear locked onto the robot as he spoke up once again. "If you don't get to sleep on your own within an hor of Tony's message being completed the first time, he's programmed me to give you a dose of melatonin." He told her bluntly, and Flame knew by his tone and body language that if his face could emote, he'd likely look bored but worried. "C'mere."

Flame's gaze slowly fell upon the suit again as she took heavy, slow steps forward. "What do I call you?" She asked as she neared, voice just barely above a whisper. The feline gave him a confused look as he just shrugged and reached out for her as she began to climb into the nest.

"I'm called "Recovery" in all my files," he began as he gently pulled Flame in close and covered her with the uppermost blanket like she likes. "But Tony programmed me to respond to anything you want to call me."

"Recovery…" Flame echoed quietly as she settled next to him and tucked herself closer to the robot, resting her head on his chest. The familiar hum of the arc reactor and the comforting weight from the blankets on her back, along with a gentle and protective arm wrapped around her, had brought a weakened purr to rise in her own chest. Recovery rewards Flame with a gentle "Good job" as she closes her eyes and finally allows herself to relax.

Within an hour of laying down, Flame had fallen asleep. Peaceful and thankfully dreamless this night. Recovery seemed to have followed her lead in his own way, eyes dim and metal body relaxed.