#I wanted to include something to test it out

[noodlemoondle]

You Always Come First

(No matter how upset I am)

Zayne x Reader

summary: you and zayne have a small spat over you neglecting your health. as a result of it, you decide to sleep on the couch, not wanting to bother/upset him even further. randomly waking up in the night, you notice you’re no longer alone on the couch and do everything you can to get the doctor back in bed before he’s sore for his shift tomorrow.

tags: not proofread!, hurt/comfort? (i didn’t rlly include the hurt part of it so im not too sure), fluff, literal sleeping together, caring n sweet zayne (when is he not), self indulgent per usual

a/n: bro tumblr is REALLY testing my patience. why is it so dumb with everything i try to post. it’s literally why i haven’t posted a fic in a while. i can’t take this much longer i may crash out soon. anyway, as always hope u enjoy! (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)

side tangent: i actually have been so obsessed with caleb. it’s actually a problem. i have been loyal to zayne this entire time and i’ve been playing since release, but caleb is REALLY testing it. lord i’m a sucker for the protective n caring childhood friends to lovers trope (¯―¯٥) (id expect a caleb fic soon tbh if tumblr wants to stop hating me and making my life so difficult)

the fight was stupid. you were neglecting your health once again not taking your medicine, not resting, and ignoring doctors specific orders. zayne often could never say no to you, he always spoiled you and gave into any of your requests. the only time he was stern and stubborn was when it involved your health, that he doesn’t and will never budge on. you often lacked care for your health, pushing it to the back burners of your mind and often calling zayne dramatic saying “you knew yourself and your limits”. something zayne wasn’t particularly fond of. he confronted you about your recent negligence of your health and both of your stubbornness in your beliefs led to an argument.

it’s been an hour or 2 since it ended though. zayne left to your shared bedroom, most likely to do some work, while you stayed out in the living area, trying to distract yourself from the anger turning to sadness and guilt in your heart. you ended up deciding to just sleep on the couch tonight not wanting to bother him after an argument. you grabbed an extra pillow and thin blanket from a nearby closet and put on a random show so you wouldn’t have to fall asleep listening to your own thoughts. soon enough you were able to relax and fall into a slumber.

you don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep. you hear the tv still on as you slowly wake and become aware of your surroundings. once you can see clearly, that’s when you realize you were laying on top of zayne previously using his chest as a pillow unbeknownst to you. he has been peacefully sleeping on the couch with you for who knows how long. as you sat up in a panic you also notice a thicker, softer blanket, one you have preference for, falling off of your shoulders. instantly guilt is washed over you as you look at zayne, who is a somewhat light sleeper, somehow still deep in his sleep. you swallow quickly as you build confidence to wake him up.

you lean closer to his face which was awkwardly propped up by the couch’s arm rest, a position that you couldn’t imagine to be anywhere near comfortable. you lightly tap his shoulder and call his name trying to wake him up. soon enough he does, opening his eyes to see you staring back at him, the faintest smile appears on his face at the sight, almost forgetting of the spat you two shared earlier. before he could even say anything you scold him:

“why are you here? i was sleeping on the couch tonight. you have work early in the morning go back to bed and go to sleep.”

“couldn’t have you sore in the morning” he answers calmly releasing a small yawn in the process.

“neither can you! you have a long shift starting early tomorrow. i’ll be fine just go back to bed.” you quickly rebutted trying to push him off the couch, something that you didn’t have the strength to do, but nevertheless you persisted.

“i can get through a shift with an achy neck, however you can not.” he replies as he softly grabs your hands that are trying to shove him away back to bed.

“i know i’ll be fine. i’ll live to see another day. now go back to bed already!” you say. your voice getting louder as you’re starting to get frustrated trying to break out of his soft grasp.

“will you be joining me?” he asks softly not letting go of your wrists that keep trying to fight against him.

“no, i’m sleeping on the couch!” your voice raising above the tv still playing in the back illuminating the room.

“then it seems like i shall too” he states as he frees your wrists and pushes you back onto his chest, laying the blanket over you both.

before you can even think of a response zayne wraps his arms around your torso and closes his eyes to fall asleep once again, to which you quickly flick his chest to wake him back up. he opens his eyes again and looks down at you with an unamused expression.

“why won’t you just let me sleep here alone?” you ask in a tone he can’t quite place, nevertheless he can hear the slight amount sorrow that came along with it.

“i already told you, i can’t have you go into work tomorrow with a sore neck and back.” he says closing his eyes again despite your wishes against it.

“if you don’t wish to be with me tonight then i’ll sleep on the couch and you can take the bed” he continues. his arms involuntarily tighten ever so slightly around you showing how much he doesn’t want that.

“but i also told you!!! you can’t sleep on the couch, you have a few surgeries to complete, and you have to be in your best shape to do so.” you try to push up against his arms wrapped around you, another pointless action.

zayne sighs and opens his eyes again to look at you before speaking.

“well then you have two options. one, we both move over to the bed to sleep. or two, i sleep here and you sleep over in the room. my job isn’t physically taxing compared to yours, im not allowing you to go in if you don’t have a proper rest.”

he looks tired. you study his features before you respond to him. taking a moment to look at the eyebags under his eyes and a slight frustration growing in his face from this back and forth.

you sigh before answering “then to the bed we go”

a soft smile appears on zaynes face as he begins to get up. his neck slightly sore, but he wouldn’t reveal that to you. although it’s against your wishes, he lifts you up having you hold the blanket and pillow as he carries you back to bed.

he sets you down on your side of the bed, thinking you won’t necessarily want to be close with him tonight. not before tucking you in and kissing the top of your head whispering his love and goodnight wishes. as he gets into bed you turn to face him. once he fully lays down you scootch closer to him and grab onto the hem of his shirt. he instantly understands what you want and pulls you towards him, pressing you to his side as he wraps his arms around you.

he kisses your forehead once more and whispers

“we will continue our discussion after work tomorrow. goodnight, i love you.”

too tired to argue with him anymore you just nod your head against him replying quietly mouth squished against him making your words barely audible.

“goodnight, love you too”

[transformers-spike]

Who would be the kinkiest transformer in your opinion?

Oh god this is such a hard question to think about. In TFP I'm split between quite a few. Wheeljack feels like an absolute freak to me. No way in hell he isn't into testing the limits of your human frame and seeing just what he can do with you - bonus points if there are explosions in the background. I haven't gotten to Ultra Magnus properly but no way someone so professional and by-the-book isn't kinky as hell in private. Work is work, but when it's break time it's pound time. Decepticons tend to get a bit wilder. For example, Megatron is a certified freak. No normal bot would be running their glossa over their human like that, nor beating their spike sloppy style with a steel rod inside of it while eating their human out. Chances are he'll even ask/order them to sound him - lube not included. Knock Out is obviously high on the kinky list, and he's happy playing the active or passive role as long as his human partner knows what they're doing. He's by far the most open to trying out new kinks as long as they don't get gross. Oh did I say Knock Out was the most open? Ha! Nope - Breakdown is even more open and willing to play along with whatever his partner needs/wants. Just remind him to keep his own wellbeing in mind, he's very willing to please and extremely receptive to praise. TFA is a bit easier to figure out Prowl is obviously very willing to try new things, especially if you already know about them. Bondage? Do you need him to learn rope-tying techniques? He's already putting in the research. Whatever kink you introduce he's going to study up on it and ask you why you're interested in it. By the end you've started your spiritual journey in the land of kink Sentinel has something going on I'm sure of it - no way in hell he's grossed out by fleshies purely for their organic frames. There has to be more to it. I'm telling y'all he's a closeted human fucker with a secret pregnancy kink - but he'll never find out unless he actually gives in and fucks Blitzwing's Random personality is the kinkiest out of everyone. I'm not sure what you were expecting, but bro can lick the earth you stepped on and get off to it. Also he's probably into vore

TF:One Sentinel Prime. Bro obviously has too much money and time on his hands.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Try, Try, Try 1

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics including adultery and trying to conceive. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: husband!Andy Barber, friend!Thor

masterlist - to be added

Summary: your husband puts high expectations on you but you don't think you'll ever be enough for him.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A single line. Negative. You cringe as you hold the plastic stick over the bin in disappointment. There’s a knock at the door. 

“Well,” Andy’s voice rumbles through. 

You drop the test into the garbage and exhale softly, “not this time.” 

You crank on the faucet and rinse off your hands. The door opens from the other side and Andy meets your eye in the mirror. You can see the same disappointment in him. He even looks angry. 

“You been taking your vitamins?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod to the pillow box, each day a separate compartment, filled with the multicolor tablets. “I’m off coffee finally. No drinking. I gave Lisa a bunch of wine.” 

Your husband sighs, “you were ovulating. You said so.” 

“Andy,” you shrug. “It just takes time.” 

“Three years,” he says. “Yeah, a long time.” 

You wince at his disapproval. You shut off the tap and dry your hands. “I know. I’m trying.” 

“We’re both trying,” he insists. “Even on the days I’m tired, from working, when all I wanna do is nothing, I try. All according to your calendar. Are you sure you’re doing it right?” 

“What?” You face him. “Yeah, it’s an app and the tests--” 

“I don’t know. Maybe you aren’t trying as hard as me. Or maybe you’re hiding something.” 

His accusation is like a slap in the face. You blink furiously and shake your head, “what are you saying?” 

“You went to the OBGYN last week. How do I know you didn’t get pills? Or an insert?” 

“Huh?” You grimace. You got your IUD out the month before the wedding; because he asked. It wasn’t fun or easy. “Why--” 

“Cold feet? I mean, you leave dishes in the sink, maybe you’re not ready for a kid.” 

Your lashes flutter as your eyes burn. You leave a glass or two in the sink but the place isn’t a sty. You heave and swallow down the hurt. He’s frustrated. That’s it. 

“I’m ready. I’ve been just as ready as you,” you croak. 

“Hm, well, maybe you should book another appointment. Get a referral and figure out what’s wrong with you.” 

“What’s wrong--” 

“There are options. In vitro. Surrogate,” he crosses his arms and leans on the door frame, “I’m not getting any younger. Neither are you.” 

You want to say that it could be him. That you’re not necessarily the problem but you can’t be entirely sure of that. You sniffle, “Andy, I want it just as bad. I understand that it’s hard but you don’t have to be mean.” 

“Cecilia and Mark started trying last year and she’s about to pop,” he retorts. “And Timothy, he’s older than I am and he’s got twins.” 

“Andy,” you plead. “You’re acting like this is some conspiracy.” 

He looks away as if to suggest that’s possible. You stagger with hurt. His mom always accused you of being a gold digger. Does he believe you? He’s the one who told you to quit your job and stay home. 

He clears his throat and his eyes flick over sharply, “almost forgot. Found a cooking course for you. Down at the Elmwood.” 

“A cooking... what?” 

“Mom suggested it. Said it could help with everything. Make it more manageable if you know what you’re doing.” He drops his hands to his hips. 

“But... you like my cooking.” 

“Honey, you cook out of cans and the freezer. It’s something but if we’re going to have a little one, you need to start making more organic meals. Processed foods are awful, especially if you’re going to be breastfeeding,” he girds. 

Your heart sinks even further. You just can’t do anything right. Not since he put that ring on your finger. You’ve let him down in so many ways. You can’t give him a baby, you can’t cook what he likes, and last night he said you were too dry. Not your fault when he doesn’t offer any foreplay. 

“It will be fun too,” he offers. “I’m sure you’ll make some friends. Maybe some who can give you good advice... moms.” 

You restrain the flinch and nod. “Sure, probably will be. I guess... learning new things is good.” 

“Sure it will be, honey,” he shoves away from the wall and comes closer. “Look, it’s not that bad, alright?” He brushes his hand over your hip and along your lower back. He turns you to face him, “we can try again. Before work?” 

He pulls you against him and you have to resist tearing away. You’re not mad. You’re hurt. Why can’t he ever tell you what you do right? 

“Sure,” you run your hands up his white tee shirt. 

“Mm, when’s the last time we were spontaneous?” He purrs as his attitude shifts entirely. “Come on, get on the counter. Just like old times.” 

Your cheeks sear at the memory. When you were his law clerk, it was so exciting. Your little rendezvous, the under the desk fun. Now it’s so much pressure. Now he really feels like your boss. 

He backs you up and you brace the counter. He helps you up and pushes between your knees. You gasp as he steps between them and pulls down the straps of your nightie. A shiver speckles goosebumps across your chest as he bends to bury his face. 

You clasp the back of his head as he fondles one tit in his hand and latches onto the other. He groans as he teethes at you and sucks as he pulls back, stretching your nipple until it pops free. He looks up at you and purrs. 

“You know, when you’re expecting, those are gonna be bigger,” he stands and you hide your disappointment. No foreplay. Again. “I can’t wait.” 

He spreads your knees and pulls you so your pelvis is curled. He pushes down the elastic of his boxers as he slides you closer to the edge. He grabs your shoulder, pushing you back against the mirror as he guides himself along your cunt. 

He growls as he pushes inside of you, rocking until he finds his way in. He grunts and snaps his hips as you whine. It scrapes dryly as you’re unprepared for his suddenness. You brace his forearm and grit down on the pain. 

“You’re dry again,” he snarls and thrusts. 

You rasp, “sorry, I’m trying.” 

You reach down to your clit and he swats your hand away. He snags your wrists and brings them above your head. He pins them to the mirror and rams in harder. You whimper and curl your legs around him. 

“Ah, Andy--” 

“Yeah, you like it, don’t you? Like how big I am?” He pounds into you without patient. “Want me to fill you up, don’t you?” 

You gulp and gasp around his raw intrusion. He squeezes your wrists until your fingers throb and you notice how he watches himself in the mirror, almost entirely unconcerned with your presence. You turn your head down and bite your lip as he uses you. You just need him to get off and then you can go cook him a breakfast he won’t he even like. 

[mediocre-shark-tales]

Mexican GP part 2

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming

Waking up this morning was awful. Sure, I felt fine physically—no soreness or stiffness from yesterday’s qualifying session—but mentally, I was dragging myself through the motions. Dreading the moment I’d step into that paddock, knowing Henry would be glued to my side, invading my space, throwing his condescending comments, and forcing his "help" where it wasn’t wanted. The only bright spot ahead was the cockpit. The second I climbed into my car, I knew I’d find some peace, if only for a while.

I forced myself to get out of bed and into the shower, letting the hot water work its way over me as I planned my day. My mind, as usual, wandered back to Henry’s endless pestering and inappropriate comments. The "compliments" that weren’t compliments at all, the subtle digs at my abilities, the way he always seemed to loom over me with his too-familiar tone.

It wasn’t just infuriating anymore—it was exhausting. And it wasn’t stopping.

As I wrapped myself in a towel and headed back into the main room, I grabbed my phone and stared at it for a moment. There was no way I could go to management without proof. What if they didn’t believe me? Or worse, what if they dismissed it and I ended up with an even bigger target on my back?

I opened the voice recorder app and stared at it for a long moment, hesitating. Could I really do this? Was it even worth the risk?

Yes, I told myself firmly. If I wanted this to stop, if I wanted a shot at feeling like a human being again, I had to do something.

I tested the app, slipping my phone into my pocket to make sure the microphone still picked up audio clearly. Satisfied, I turned it off for now and finished getting ready, pulling on my team polo and jeans and brushing my hair into a sleek ponytail. If I looked the part of a calm, confident professional, maybe I’d feel it, too.

A knock at my door startled me, and I frowned, wondering who it could be. Opening it, I found Fernando Alonso standing there, dressed and ready for the day, looking as collected as ever.

“Morning,” he said casually, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe.

“Uh, morning?” I replied, still confused.

He held up his hands in mock surrender at my skeptical tone. “Relax. I just thought I’d ride to the paddock with you today. Of course if that is fine with you?”

I raised an eyebrow. Fernando wasn’t exactly known for hanging out with his teammates outside of the track. Sure, we got along, but this was out of character for him. Still, I couldn’t exactly say no.

“Fine,” I said, grabbing my keys from the counter. “But don’t touch my music. Driver’s picks only.”

He grinned. “Fair enough.”

As we rode down in the elevator, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to this than a simple carpool. Fernando wasn’t exactly the type to go out of his way for casual company.

When we reached the parking lot and I unlocked the car, he slid into the passenger seat without a word, letting me set up my playlist before we pulled out.

“You’re quiet,” he remarked after a few minutes on the road.

“Just thinking,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the road.

He hummed in acknowledgment, not pressing me further. It was a relief, really. Having someone like Fernando with me—someone who commanded respect just by existing—gave me a small hope that maybe Henry wouldn’t be quite so unbearable this morning.

I parked in the paddock lot, and as we walked in together, I couldn’t help but glance sideways at Fernando. His presence felt like a protective barrier, and I clung to that feeling, telling myself I could handle whatever the day threw at me.

At least for now.

As I entered the paddock with Fernando, the buzz of the pre-race atmosphere filled the air—engines humming, team personnel rushing around, fans lining the barriers hoping for a glimpse of their favorite drivers. It was a world I loved, but today, it felt more like a battlefield.

I spotted Henry almost immediately. He was standing near the garage, arms crossed, already looking irritated. His eyes locked onto me and then flicked to Fernando beside me, his jaw tightening. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he wasn’t thrilled about my choice of company this morning.

Good.

I kept my expression neutral, refusing to let him see the satisfaction bubbling under the surface. If Fernando noticed Henry’s sour look, he didn’t say anything, though I caught the slightest smirk tugging at his lips.

“See you out there,” Fernando said casually as we parted ways, heading toward our respective garages.

I made my way through the paddock, greeting a few drivers as I went. Lando gave me a bright smile and a quick thumbs-up, and Charles paused to ask how I was feeling about the race. Even Max gave me an approving nod as he walked by. Their small gestures of support were like tiny sparks of warmth in the cold shadow Henry had cast over my week.

Finally, I reached my driver’s room and closed the door behind me, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. For the first time all morning, I felt like I could breathe freely. This was my space, my sanctuary, and Henry couldn’t touch it.

I started to change into my racing gear, the familiar ritual grounding me as I pulled on the fireproof layers and zipped up my suit. But as I worked through the motions, my mind started to churn.

Henry’s voice echoed in my head, his cutting remarks replaying like a broken record. “Don’t screw this up.” “You’re lucky to even be here.” “Do you even understand how this car works?”

Anger began to simmer in my chest. I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was done letting his words define me.

For too long, I’d let Henry make me feel small, like my achievements didn’t matter, like I wasn’t worthy of the seat I’d fought so hard to earn. But not today. Today, I was going to prove to myself—and to everyone else—that I belonged here.

My jaw tightened as I secured my helmet bag and gloves. This race wasn’t just about points or podiums anymore. It was about taking back what was mine. The joy of racing, the confidence in my abilities, the pride in knowing I deserved to be here.

I grabbed my radio and earpieces, shoving them into the bag with a determined glare. Henry might think he had control over me, but he didn’t. Not where it mattered. Not out on the track.

By the time I left my room and headed toward the garage, the fire in my chest had turned into a roaring blaze. I was ready for this. Henry could glare all he wanted, but today, I wasn’t racing for him, or the team, or anyone else.

I was racing for me.

The moment I made my way to the car, Henry was there, as usual, lingering far too close for comfort. He had that smug, self-satisfied look on his face, like he knew exactly how much he got under my skin. He always seemed to find a way to insert himself into my space, to make himself the center of my attention, even when I didn’t want it.

As I settled into the cockpit, the tight fit of the car around me should’ve been comforting. I was in my element, surrounded by the familiar hum of the engine, the feel of the steering wheel under my hands. But Henry was there, too close, and his presence made everything feel suffocating.

I could feel his eyes on me as I prepared for the race, the way he loitered just out of my line of sight, hovering like a cloud that wouldn’t go away. As if sensing my discomfort, he leaned in even closer, his breath brushing against the side of my neck, sending a wave of unease through me.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and smooth, with a touch of arrogance that made my skin crawl, “if you do well today, I’ll make sure to give you a well-deserved... congratulations.”

The words were veiled in that same suggestive tone, a tone that twisted something as simple as praise into something gross, like he was offering more than just acknowledgement. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself not to react, but the moment the words left his mouth, I felt the bile rise in my throat. I had been dealing with his crap for days now—weeks, really—and it was getting harder to just ignore it.

I didn’t want to show him that he was getting under my skin, that his comments were starting to break through my tough exterior. But the truth was, they were. Every time he opened his mouth, every time he made some inappropriate remark, it felt like a little piece of me was eroding, like I was losing my place here, losing the confidence that I had worked so damn hard to build.

With a final, disgusted breath, I shoved the thoughts out of my head as I snapped myself into focus. I could hear the pit crew’s final adjustments happening all around me, the last checks before I was cleared to go. The buzz of the radio crackled to life, but my focus remained on the track. Henry wasn’t worth the energy, not right now.

But I swore to myself that I’d get the proof I needed. He wasn’t going to walk all over me anymore. I just had to bide my time, hold on long enough until I could catch him in the act, and when I did, I would expose him for what he was.

The lights on the grid flashed brightly, one by one, signaling the start of the race. The tension in my chest, the frustration, the anger—it all collided into a single burst of adrenaline, and suddenly, the only thing that mattered was the car in front of me, the track stretching out ahead like a challenge I was ready to conquer.

I felt the revs of the engine rumble under me, the anticipation thick in the air as the lights blinked out one by one. And when they finally turned off completely, the sound of roaring engines filled the air, and everything else—the pressure, the weight of Henry’s words, the lingering disgust—vanished in an instant.

The car launched forward, and my foot slammed down on the accelerator, the wheels spinning as I surged ahead, cutting through the noise of the paddock and the nerves like a knife. Every turn, every shift in gear, every decision was sharper now. The anger wasn’t just a distraction—it was fuel.

Henry thought he could break me. He thought he could manipulate me into doubting myself, into questioning my worth. But instead, I was going to prove him wrong. I was going to show him that no matter what he said, no matter how much he tried to push me down, I was still a force to be reckoned with.

As I tore through the track, dodging rivals and pushing myself to the limit, his words twisted and reshaped in my mind. If you do well today, I’ll make sure to give you a well-deserved congratulations.

I laughed bitterly inside my helmet. Henry had no idea. No idea what it was like to truly race. To feel the rush of adrenaline, the power in the car, and the pride in your heart when you know you’ve earned every single second of it.

The first few laps were a blur, my focus entirely on the track, on the cars around me. I was sliding through corners, making precise adjustments, trusting myself in a way I hadn’t been able to in days. For the first time all weekend, I felt in control. I felt like me again.

But every time I passed a monitor, or saw a glimpse of Henry on the pit wall, I remembered what he had said, and I channeled that anger. Every corner, every straight, every ounce of speed—this was my victory.

As I crossed the finish line and the car slowed down, the reality of what I had just done began to sink in. P3. It wasn’t a win, but it was something significant. A solid performance, a breakthrough after everything I’d been dealing with. I hadn’t just survived the weekend—I had fought through the pressure, the frustration, and come out stronger.

As I pulled into the parc ferme, the pit crew's cheers and the roar of the crowd in the distance became distant background noise, replaced by a familiar and comforting feeling. Lando and Carlos were waiting for me, grinning from ear to ear as I climbed out of the car.

“P3! That was amazing!” Lando exclaimed, his bright smile infectious as he pulled me into a quick hug.

Carlos clapped me on the back, his smile wide. “You’ve come so far. We knew you had it in you!”

I laughed, my chest full of pride, feeling lighter than I had in days. “Thanks, guys,” I said, genuinely grateful. The camaraderie was exactly what I needed after everything.

We stood there for a moment, the friendly banter between us filling the air, until I noticed my team was waiting for me by the barriers. My heart skipped a beat when I saw them, and a rush of warmth spread through me. They had been with me every step of the way, working tirelessly to make sure I was at my best.

I gave a final wave to Lando and Carlos before heading towards my team, a smile stretching across my face. But as I approached the barriers, I spotted him—Henry. He was standing front and center, a smug look on his face like he had somehow been a big part of this victory. The sight of him made my stomach twist, but I pushed down the anger and disgust that had been building all weekend. I had worked so hard for this, and nothing—not even him—was going to ruin it.

I reached my team, and they crowded around me, clapping me on the back, cheering, and congratulating me. The warmth of their genuine support wrapped around me like a shield, and for a moment, I was able to forget about the tension I had been carrying. That was, until Henry made his move.

He came over to me, his hands too quick, too sure, as he wrapped me in a hug. His touch was supposed to be comforting, but the way his hands lingered, moving lower than they should have, sent a chill down my spine. My heart raced, and the urge to push him away flooded through me, but I couldn’t do it—not with the rest of the team surrounding me.

His hands traced over my ass, too slow, too deliberate. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from reacting, from slapping him right there in front of everyone. But I couldn’t make a scene—not here, not now. Not with my team standing around, celebrating this moment with me.

“You know,” Henry’s voice dropped, low enough that only I could hear it, “you’re looking damn good today. You earned that P3, but I’m sure you’ll be ready for more soon. I might have a little reward for you if you keep it up.”

The words made my skin crawl, and I felt the heat of fury rise in my chest. But there was nothing I could do—not with my team so close, not with everyone watching. All I could do was force a smile, nod as he released me, and try to push the disgust back down into the pit of my stomach.

The team started to break apart, their congratulations fading into background noise as I tried to focus, trying to remind myself that I had earned this moment. I hadn’t let Henry’s words get the best of me before, and I wasn’t going to let them now.

As I walked away from my team, heading towards the cooldown room, I couldn’t shake the feeling of Henry’s hands lingering, his words echoing in my mind. I clenched my fists, frustration and disgust boiling over, but I forced myself to breathe.

The cool air in the cooldown room did little to calm the racing thoughts that flooded my mind. I slumped down against the cold concrete floor, instinctively grabbing my water bottle but hardly registering it. The headphones I’d put on were more of a shield than anything else—something to block out the noise of my spiraling thoughts, the feeling that my chest was going to tighten and crush me under the weight of it all.

What had happened in parc ferme… Henry’s hands, his words. It had all happened so quickly. It had been so blatant, so blatant that it felt impossible to ignore. And the worst part? No one said a thing. No one even reacted. My team, the same people I trusted with my career, had just stood there. It was as if his actions had become so normal to them that they didn’t even bat an eye. And that terrified me.

The panic started to claw at me again, pushing its way up from the pit of my stomach, but I fought it down. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t break down, not here, not now. Not in front of the cameras.

The sound of the door opening snapped me out of my spiral, and I felt my body tense immediately. The last thing I needed right now was more attention. But when I looked up, I saw Carlos and Lando walking in. Neither of them said a word as they approached, not wanting to make it obvious they were aware of my presence, and they didn’t push me. They just quietly sat a little farther away, pretending everything was normal for the cameras, as if this was part of the routine.

But I could tell they were concerned. It was in the way Carlos kept glancing at me, his eyes flicking to my headphones, to my stillness, to the way I was avoiding everyone. Lando was just as quiet, but I could feel the worry radiating off him too, even if he was trying to hide it behind a calm façade.

I didn’t want to acknowledge them, didn’t want to give in to the thoughts swirling around inside my head. The cold concrete floor under me felt grounding, like it could somehow anchor me in the moment, but it wasn’t enough to push away the feeling of suffocating pressure.

I let the seconds stretch out, forcing myself to breathe in deeply, slowly, to remind myself that I was still in control. Eventually, when I felt the weight of the panic lift just enough, I pulled myself together. The cameras weren’t far off, and I knew I had to put on the mask again.

I pushed the headphones off and stood up, quickly wiping my face as if it would erase the emotions from earlier. My legs were shaky as I adjusted my racing suit and straightened my hair.

Carlos was the first to speak, his voice carefully neutral. “You alright?”

I plastered a smile on my face, the same one I’d learned to wear so well over the years. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… tired, you know?” I shrugged, trying to make it sound convincing.

Lando nodded, not entirely buying it but not pressing me either. “You did great out there today,” he said, a small smile on his face.

“Thanks,” I replied, my smile faltering slightly. I couldn’t bring myself to really believe it, not when everything felt so hollow inside.

They both seemed to sense the shift, the subtle way I was trying to bury everything beneath the surface, but neither of them pushed. They just kept their distance, respecting my space without letting on that they were paying more attention than they’d like to admit.

As the cameras finally moved out, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. The moment they were gone, I found myself alone in the room again, the quiet stretching out before me.

I glanced back at Carlos and Lando, who had already started to leave, and I realized they hadn’t pressed me for the truth. They knew something was wrong, but they were waiting for me to say it first.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell them what was really going on—not without risking everything. The team, my career, everything I had fought for. I couldn’t let them see me as weak. I couldn’t let them see me as someone who needed help for such a pathetic problem. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” I muttered under my breath as I walked out of the room, past the lingering shadows of my own fears. And for now, that was all I could hold onto.

The walk to the podium felt like a blur, a strange mix of pride and dread swirling inside me. The crowd’s cheers reached my ears, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was being observed. I had the weight of a thousand eyes on me—both the crowd’s and the team’s, and of course, Henry’s. I could feel his presence even though he wasn’t standing right next to me. His words from earlier still rang in my ears. But for the moment, I was determined to shut it all out and focus on the victory, no matter how hollow it felt.

As the podium ceremony started, I climbed the steps to third place, the media-trained smile sliding onto my face with practiced ease. Lando was already grinning from the second spot, and Carlos gave me a brief but genuine nod as he stood on the top step. 

The national anthem played, the flags waving around me, and I stood tall—making sure to appear every bit the champion I was supposed to be. The smile never faltered, not even when the champagne was passed to me. I knew the drill by heart.

“Alright, time to have some fun,” I muttered under my breath, already feeling a little bit lighter. A quick spray of champagne hit Carlos first, and he let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. Lando was next, taking the spray like a champ, both of them laughing and trying to spray me along with each other. There was an almost childlike thrill to the chaos of it all. The champagne dripped down our suits, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to forget about everything else.

Lando, ever the joker. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he teased. Carlos joined in, throwing his arm around me and pulling me into a half-hug. The laughter, the camaraderie, it felt good. For those few seconds, I felt good, like Henry was a whisper in the wind and everything would go back to normal. 

But even as I grinned, holding up the third-place trophy, a small voice in the back of my mind kept reminding me of the danger lurking behind the scenes. Henry. The way he had touched me earlier, the things he had said. It was all eating away at me, just under the surface.

As we made our way off the podium and back into the hustle of the paddock, I kept my distance from Henry, knowing his eyes were on me, even if I couldn’t see him. The adrenaline of the podium was wearing off, replaced by the gnawing worry that would follow me until I had proof of his behavior.

Carlos gave me a pat on the back as we walked toward the waiting cars. “You did great today,” he said quietly, his voice a little softer than usual. I could tell he meant it, even if we all knew the race had its ups and downs.

“Thanks,” I replied, forcing another smile. “It’s been a crazy weekend.”

Lando, noticing the change in my tone, shot me a look, but said nothing. He just gave me a small nudge, and we continued walking, the sound of our footsteps mixing with the fading cheers from the crowd.

But Henry’s shadow loomed over me, and the thought of him trying to undermine my every move made my blood boil. I had to make him pay. I had to get that proof. Whatever it took, no matter how long that took.

[ncillary]

Self Aware AU (Zayne)

Summary: You have the lowest Affinity with Zayne. The reason is because you want an assured happy end for him before you could be with him. The man has no qualm in being cursed again and again the moment he stays by your side in every timeline.

-------&&&&&-------&&&&&-------&&&&&-------

Masterlist Self Aware AU

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|  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5 [current]  |

-------&&&&&-------&&&&&-------&&&&&-------

"Thank you for your help. This might seem ridiculous but we want to put facts as correctly as possible even though it was simply a game."

The director of the hospital dismissed them saying it helps to get people to understand hospital-related things in any form possible. The world may have reached a level of modernization but false information always circulates around without proper address to it. Maybe a game could interest people to seek out a better understatement.

"Thank you too for listening to our exhausting yapping. Sometimes we are too engrossed in our own world in explaining if not for younglings simplifying things for us."

He gestures to the few young doctors present in the meeting room together with the senior doctors and retiree. The game company staffs bowed their heads as an appreciation before the doctors left the room. They also started to pack up.

"It's good to see you here. How's the clinic?"

The staff saw a retiree patting the back of a black-haired doctor. His hazel eyes shone the moment he saw his mentor.

"Not as busy as the main hospital but challenging all the same."

A hearty laugh, "You're not a retiree to settle down in the far off town like me. Searching for something again?"

His eyes flickered slightly before patting his mentor to continue the conversation somewhere else.

Someone's clearing their throat. They turned to the staff.

"Apologies but could I have some time with the doctor here for a few minutes?" The staff looked straight at the hazel-eyed doctor.

The retiree pushed lightly at him before waving away. He smiled as he looked at his mentor who closed the door behind him.

His demeanour changed instantly. Doctor mode on. The staff was taken aback by it but soon gestured for others to set up something. The staff told him to sit while they prepared a laptop in front of him.

An elderly woman smiled warmly at him beyond the screen. He nodded.

"It's good to see you, Dr. Zayne." She started.

"The pleasure is mine..."

"Right, I'm the CEO of the game company. My name is a secret to the world including you." She teased.

He chuckled, "Very well, madam. How may I assist you?"

"We need your prolonged assistance for our project. We want to ask you to be a model for one of our characters. I think you are suitable for that one fellow we have established."

He blinked, "I'm nothing much compared to others. I think it's better to rethink your option, madam."

"We also would be very grateful if you could be one of our personal advisors regarding a few matters?"

"I'm happy to help with giving some input occasionally but I'll have to decline in being your prolonged personal advisor. Besides, there are more experienced doctors than me."

She quietened. She asked the others to step out and leave them alone. All the staff obliged.

He was unfazed, waiting for her to speak up.

"Zayne. Give me a chance. Three months. You'll be allowed access and supervise the game from behind the scene. You don't have to frequently see it through but at least help me out when I ask for assistance once in a while."

He can't exactly pinpoint this woman's desperation but it made him agree to her deal. Her relieved smile made him smile too somehow.

+---------------------------+--------------------------+

"It's weird seeing yourself moving around in a game."

He tested the game before it was released to the whole wide world. After the test, he'll be supervising the game through his game counterpart's eye. Not as MC. How Madam CEO trusted him so much to give him a personal access ID, he didn't have a clue.

+--------------------+------------------------------+

He couldn't see her face but he could feel she was caressing his frozen cheek. Warmth spreading. Then she collapsed on him.

His brows furrowed before slowly opening it to the view of his ceiling. He sat up, feeling exhausted.

Who is she?

He didn't know. But he had been dreaming of her frequently. He felt like he needed to help her. Do something to save her.

Be with her.

She was one of the reasons he changed his workplace to this quaint little town's clinic. He didn't want his lack of sleep to bother the load of work at the main hospital.

Plus, he felt that he was supposed to be in this town for some unknown reason.

+-----------------------------+----------------------+

"Hello, Dr. Zayne. May I ask you to watch over one of our new player again? This one looks interesting."

He chuckled, already knew the madam's antics, "Will do madam. Give me the details."

+------------------+---------------------------------+

"Happy Birthday, fishieee~ Although you're annoying, it was nice meeting you. Oh... why Zayne's birthday so far away. AH! Sorry sorry. Ha~ppy~ Birthday to you-"

He laughed lowly. This new player felt different than others he had watched over for the past four months.

Yes.

He extended his contract after meeting this one particular headache-inducing-funny player.

It was awkward to listen to them after the microphone feature was updated. He opted to mute them. Saving their privacy.

Until this particular one.

The moment he heard her voice coming through his speaker, he panicked.

Did his ID receive updates recently?

It was one of the reason this very issue happened before. The staff probably missed informing him this time and reset all the mute and off setting to his access ID.

He quickly went to the setting.

"Zayne. You are not cursed. I'm going to uncurse the both of us. I... I mean the MC. Don't you dare consume it all on your own again."

Hand stopping. Eyes blinking.

His mind flashes to his dream.

His heart tightened on its own.

He knew it.

She's the one.

Even though it was just her voice, his heart was telling him he had found her.

+-------------------------+---------------------------+

He grumbled lowly as he shook his head.

"How many times she wants to watch this."

He could hear her sobbing and frankly, it was killing him slowly.

"It'll be the death of me if I saw her face."

+--------------------------+-------------------------+

He hid his eyes behind scarred hand.

"Madam, this is literally killing me. Why did you give me this update?"

The player's face. Her face was shown on the screen. She was laughing at every prompt she received after every pats she did on his counterpart's shoulder.

Madam CEO laughed from the other side of the phone call, "I thought it would be a nice touch to personally get to know the very person that helped me extend your stay with us."

He stared at the empty wall, still not looking at his gaming phone specifically provided by Madam CEO, and quirked an eyebrow.

"I am suspicious of your every action, if you must know."

"I noticed. But let's just play along nicely, shall we." She replied cheekily.

He chuckled knowingly to her manner.

+----------------------------+-----------------------+

"Enough. I'm banning you from watching the cards that brought you to tears."

He forcefully crashed the game after seeing her non-stop crying. So much worry displayed on the usual rigid face for her swollen eyes.

From that day on, marked the first time he bothered her in-game with various things. The so-called 'bug' that she was annoyed by every time it prevented her from watching her moment with in-game Zayne.

And many more afterwards.

+-------------------------+---------------------------+

"Zayne~"

He can't do this anymore.

He saw her eyes sparkling. Relieved sighs were pulled out of him.

He watched her succumb to a much needed slumber after getting his Myth pair.

"I never meant to hurt you like this. For that, I apologize, my dear."

+-------------------------+------------------------+

"Happy birthday, dearest Zayne~ Sorry, I can't sing properly to you. I'm on a company vacation to this one interesting quaint town. Anyway, may your birthday and the upcoming days be filled with all the blessings you could ever get. You bet I'll be adding more effort to make you the happiest snowman."

She exited the game.

He was in stupor. He recognized the restaurant signboard. It was the one in the town he worked in. She is here. Closeby.

He was restless between wanting to see her in person or not.

+--------------------------+------------------------+

He watched her looking sullen a tiny bit as she watched the video call on his birthday.

He had a bad feeling about it.

In the background he saw a bus station.

"She missed a bus?"

His mouth was asking but his body was already reaching for the car key and his coat.

His phone was on all the way until he found her at the park. He sighed heavily.

"Wish I could stay with you too, Zayne." Her voice sounded teary but her look was calm.

He approached silently.

".....everything is shying from me today."

One step.

I'm not.

Two step.

"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

Three step. Stop.

She looked down at her phone, the game is still on, chuckling lowly, "It kinda is actually."

"Can I accompany you then?"

She stared at her phone for a long time.

He cleared his throat then felt a bit guilty afterwards of how she reacted to it.

They saw each other fully.

He didn't know he could have only her in his eyes without registering the surroundings at all.

"Are you cold?" The first thing she said after staring at him like a statue for a quite sometime.

Zayne hid his laugh with the back of his hand. Shaking his head fondly to this silly girl.

HIS silly girl.

He kneeled down and held her cold hands. Caressing it lightly to make them warmer.

"The cold never bothered me quite like a certain someone's recklessness."

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|  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5 [current]  | 6 |

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Masterlist Self Aware AU

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[rurpleplayssims]

So, I have recently been inspired by @teaaddictyt to try out playing Sims 2 on Linux - more specifically Mint Cinnamon 22.1

...and the results speak for themselves! 😍 😍 😍

FOR CONTEXT: I have Optimized Lot Imposters on, all settings on High, INCLUDING shadows (which I've not had enabled for years!) and downloaded the Sea & Water Overhaul.

Now I have crashed the game but I am still in the deliberate stress-test phase. The crash happened after dipping in and out of 15+ lots quite quickly (as I was adding pool tiles to the lots) and I am IMPRESSED! 😇 😍

In comparison to Windows:

I wouldn't be able to run these settings without crashing and/or pink soup, and those settings were on low/medium.

I did use the Sea & Water Overhaul a year or so ago but it kept crashing my game, so I removed it.

My view distance was set to Small and it still crashed sometimes.

In fairness, I am still modding/cleaning up my Downloads folder - as is the way of Simmers 😂. It's possible I have something in my downloads that's causing the single crash I've experienced after a few hours of testing, but that's still SO MUCH LESS crashing/pink soup than Windows.

I like Linux, even disregarding playing Sims 2. It's very crisp, smooth and feels modern and more professional than Windows.

I should add that I was using Windows 10. I have installed Linux on a separate SSD to my Windows as not all the programs I need work on Linux.

If you want to have a look at Linux yourself for playing Sims 2, then check out Tea's video here.

If you want some more tech help regarding Linux, check out the channel on Tea's discord as well. Everyone's been very friendly, helpful and patient in trying to help out people's troubleshooting as quite a few of us have decided to dual-boot Linux alongside Windows.

I've got TS2 up and running but my next job will be getting all the modded tools setup.

[sparkinglove]

@shiningxfates

There was one fear that stuck with her since the battle ended. It wasn't over the recent rebuild of the Hazbin Hotel, or the new occupants staying with them. However, none of them were actual guests looking for redemption. With all they lost during the final battle with the exorcists, she couldn't blame anyone for losing interest in pursuing that right now. It would take time to prove their hotel was a safe haven for sinners, including from potential future angel attacks.

No, the only thing recently on her mind was Alastor.

Only a couple of days passed since the fight and despite the radio demon trying to stay hidden from everyone, something was off about him. His skin seemed a little more pale than usual, and his movements slower. It was such a subtle change that no one else seemed to pick up on the signs of it, but she did.

Okay, so maybe it was more of an obsession, really. Not with him specifically, but with everyone who fought by her side that day. She tended to watch each one of them closer, observing them for any hints that their health might be in jeopardy. She was thankful that none of them seemed to express any symptoms -- Angel, Husk, Vaggie, Niffty, her father or Cherri. All of them were fine.

Except, that was, for Alastor.

Her obsession grew. She tried to spend as much time as she could with him, using any excuse available to her at the time, no matter how miniscule they were. If they were enough to keep him in her sight a little bit longer, they were good enough. But, unfortunately, because it was Alastor, he tended to disappear at a moment's notice in the shadows, easily able to escape her pursuit.

Instead, she tried to think back to the battle. She remembered the moment Adam invaded the hotel, which was the first sign that something was wrong with him, and how that during the rest of the battle, no one saw Alastor again. It wasn't until the very end during the reconstruction that he materialized, acting completely normal. But that was impossible!

He had to of been hurt by Adam! It was the only explanation for how it went down. The moment played back over and over in her head, until it was all she could think about.

Why wouldn't Alastor simply come forward if he was hurt?! They were supposed to be friends! More than that, partners throughout the entire endeavor of the hotel. He supported her dreams since day one, even if they hadn't always been with the best intentions, but still, that meant they supported each other!

The thought of him suffering alone was enough to slowly drive her mad, to the point where she thought she'd genuinely start losing blond hair, whether by stress or ripping it out herself in frustration. It was what finally compelled her to march straight to his room and knock loudly on it. "Alastor? Are you in there?"

She paused briefly, wearing her bottom lip beneath her teeth as she made a decision. She had to be confident if she was going to find out the truth once and for all, force him to be honest with her, finally. So, without further preamble, she tried the doorknob to let herself inside. "I'm coming in!" was the only warning she offered.

[necrotic-nephilim]

in lieu of having posted any writing/headcanons/asks in the past few days because i have been *so* busy and unable to do anything fandom-related which is terrible and evil, i have a poll out of morbid curiosity and self-indulgence. i've been meaning to ramble here about how i feel about DC's lack fo Deaf representation and which Batfam members i would personally make Deaf, but i am mildly curious about the larger opinion and now i will subject you all to the question, i would love to hear thoughts/opinions/headcanons on any specific choices. (would love d/Deaf/HoH opinions esp but i'm mostly expecting this to reach the hearing crowd, so opinions from hearing ppl are ones i'm very curious about. if you've never given it thought before you are going to now or else /lh)

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

i think about the whole "love that" exchange a lot.

[liesonthefloordramatically]

tired of having a gender at work; I don't want my colleagues to perceive me anymore

[danielnelsen]

so if you romance and ascend astarion you can kick him in the balls when he tries to turn you and it’s just very funny, he’s so pissy about it. so much for the most powerful vampire of all time or whatever, he stamps around like a toddler and then leaves forever

[klutzytomb]

with having had looked through some of my older posts I have unfortunately remembered that I have in the past unintentionally made false claims about myself

someone please kill me

[ombrathefurry]

More YT content when /lh

I’m working on like 4 things for YouTube right now and I have a spoof and short stress relief if you want that

[icewindandboringhorror]

A very interesting cloud formation!

[pluggedintosaverockandroll]

only passed 1 resit (out of 4) but that was to be expected

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than three drafts

Rebalanced my auto-battle cards, because it turns out my decks are way too weak to compete with them, and they don't really need to be strong anyway. Also made a MAJOR nerf to how lands work for the deck. Also reposting the other conspiracies (rules) because it's been a while and they're helpful as context