#MY COMPUTER KEPT CRASHING ON THIS REPLY

[chilling-seavey]

I feel like TWIG needs some angst so imagine George finding out that you and your little ones got into a car accident

You are so right, anon 💕 Sorry it took me a bit to get to this one but I had to make sure I was in the writing mindset for angst!!

Warnings: Minor descriptions of car crash, injuries, and shock

It wasn’t quite the same as the real thing; stuffed in a replica of the recent Mercedes chassis facing a large arched screen displaying the virtual circuit of Baku. After almost a decade in the sport, George could have driven those streets with his eyes closed but he knew there was no place for cockiness behind the wheel. Every turn and choice must be meticulously calculated and perfected to pull every second out of the care safely. 

He was just starting another flying lap in the sim when the tone of the speaker tore him from his focus. One of the technicians spoke to him through the windowed wall of the simulator booth,  “George, your phone keeps ringing out here. It’s your wife. Why don’t you take five?”

A spark of concern flickered in his chest, wondering why you were calling multiple times when you rarely so much as messaged him when he was at the factory. He climbed out of the simulator and stepped through the door into the adjacent room that held a few long desks stocked with computers housing impressive data sets and graphs. The employees that took up the seats kept their attention on studying the results of the session while George picked up his phone from where he had left it at the table at the back. 

He noticed three missed calls from you and before he could call you back, his screen filled with your name and contact image with another incoming call. The urgency had his stomach churning and he stepped out into the hallway for a moment of privacy as he answered it.

“Hey, my love, sorry, I was in the sim.” he spoke into the phone, trying not to sound too worried, “Is everything okay?” 

“Hey, yeah, we’re okay,” you answered. 

He could hear the tension in your voice, the slight waver to your words. Somewhere in the distance, there was chatter and the muffled sound of an announcement. 

“I just…” you tried to continue but your words seemed to halt. 

George sat down in a chair in one of the small lounges in the factory, “Love, what is it? You’re scaring me.”

“Sorry,” you breathed, your exhale shaky, “I’m with the kids at the hospital. We, uh…there was…fuck.”

He could tell how shaken you were by the fact you were unable to even piece sentences together but the fact he was only being given bits of the story was sending him into a spiral. With a tight breath, he pressed urgently, “Are you okay? Are they okay?”

“Yeah, no, yeah, we’re fine.” you assured him quickly, “Some bruises but…we’re all fine. Just…got into a little car accident. Came here to be checked out just in case.”

George was filled with equal parts relief and dread. Relief that you were all okay but dread that there had been enough of an accident to have you think about going to the hospital to get checked out. He didn’t even have to think about it before he stood up from the bench and started back down the hallway towards his private room, replying, “Okay…okay, my love, I’m on my way, alright? I have your location, I’ll head to you right now. Stay put, okay?”

“Okay,” you echoed in an exhale lined with a moment of relief, “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh my God, baby, do not be sorry. I’m just glad you’re okay. I just have to change and I’m coming right to you now.”

“Okay, I love you.”

The shock-stemmed flatness of your voice was chilling.

“I love you too,” George replied easily, his tone extra warm and gentle, “I’ll see you soon.”

He was sure he had never changed faster in his life, tugging off his sim-ready race suit in exchange for his street clothes before he had even alerted his team that he had to go. When he returned to the simulator room to say he was leaving and why, he didn’t even wait for a response before he was closing the door behind him and making a beeline for the stairs of the factory. 

The parking lot of the Brackley headquarters was packed but George’s reserved parking spot wasn’t too far from the front doors of the building. He checked your location on his brisk walk to his car, zooming in on the map to see what hospital you were at and, once he was sitting behind the wheel, he typed the location into the GPS in his car. 

It was ironically a sunny day in England that day, the roads dry and clear as he navigated through the countryside from Brackley to Cambridge. He silently cursed the hour-and-a-half drive as his impatience was settling on his shoulders but he didn’t let it deter him from focusing on the roads ahead. The piece of mind came with the awareness that you were okay.

Once he was parked outside the Addenbrooke Hospital on the southern point of the city of Cambridge, he was hurrying across the lot towards the entry doors, phone pressed to his ear as he called you. You directed him to where you were waiting and once he emerged through the double doors into the waiting room of the wing you were in, his heart was racing. 

You stood from your chair at the sight of him and he rushed to meet you, swallowing you up in a careful embrace. You clung onto him tightly, fingers clutching the back of his shirt and your eyes screwed shut as you buried your face in his neck. He could feel your heavy sigh of relief in his arms as if the tension and stress had been completely dissipated from your body with a simple hug from him. 

Across the waiting room, your two children were distracted by some toys in the corner, playing together, unbothered, as if it were just another day. Watching them for a moment over your shoulder, the only thing George could notice about them was the blue bandaid on your son’s temple.

You pulled away from his embrace a little, voice still a little shaky from the shock as you updated him on the well-being of your children, “She’s the best out of the three of us, basically completely unharmed. Little guy’s cut was from the impact…hitting just the right part of his carseat. I took the worst of it.”

George tore his attention away from the children to look back at you, finally getting a proper look at you up close. It was then that he noticed the bruising over your nose and down your right cheek and jaw, colouring your skin in purples and greens. His eyes trailed down your profile to where you held out your trembling hands, your right wrist wrapped in a bandage.

“Just a minor sprain,” you assured him before he could worry too much. You tried to make light of it with a soft, “The paramedic said it was likely from how hard I was holding onto the wheel when we were hit. She said it was like my ‘mama bear’ instincts took over, trying to keep control of the car the best I could.”

George pulled in a shaky breath and moved back in to hug you again if needing to feel you there, that you were really okay. Your arms smoothly wrapped around his shoulders as he pulled you close, both of you just holding onto each other for a moment. 

“What happened?” George finally asked. He felt as though he had been keeping that question on the tip of his tongue since you had first called him, wanting to know but also wanting to save himself from knowing the cold hard truth. 

You sniffled and pulled back just enough to look at him, although your eyes were downcast as if in shame, “Some idiot made a right turn at an intersection without looking. I braked and swerved just enough to not get entirely t-boned but he hit almost directly on the front driver's side. Hence,”

You held up your sprained wrist.

“Saved the kiddies though.” you mumbled. 

George gently set a hand on your face and pulled you in to press a kiss to your head as if he could pour all his love into that simple action. 

The power behind it had your eyes welling with tears and you whispered out a shaky, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

George tenderly trailed the back of his finger over your uninjured cheek to swipe away a stray tear, “What on earth do you have to be sorry about right now?”

“We took your C63.” you whimpered, another heavy tear dripping down your cheek, “It’s…so fucked. So, so fucked. I know how much you love it…how much you protect it and I didn’t think—”

“Shhh,” George hushed you softly, gently rubbing your biceps comfortingly as he stared into your tear-filled eyes, “The last thing on my mind right now is the car. I hadn’t once thought about the car since you called me. You, the kids…that’s all I care about right now. That’s all I care about ever.”

“Okay,” you choked out through a sob, lifting your hands to hide your face as you burst into tears in the middle of the hospital waiting room. 

George’s arms encircled you and he pressed another kiss to your head, cradling you against his chest and surrounding you with his love and comfort. As much as he adored that car, he truly didn’t care about it in that moment as he held you in his arms. He had trusted you with it, knowing you were always a safe driver, but the one thing that he always knew was the scariest part of driving was that you can’t control what anyone else on the road does.

As he held you, he whispered words of reassurance to you, reminding you with a serious, “We can fix up a car…we can get a new car…but I can’t get a new you.”

His comfort had the damns breaking, causing you to let out your bottled up emotions into his neck with a sobbing, “I was so scared.” 

His heart nearly broke at your confession and he rubbed his hand over your back, comforting you in the only way he knew how and the only way he could offer, “I know, my love. I’m here. I got you.”

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[cookiescribble]

Flufftober Day 13: Attic, Cellar, Hidden Rooms

A/N: I took a bit of creative liberties here and decided that the batcave is close enough to a cellar and/or hidden room and the clocktower is close enough to an attic 😅 - mod angel

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re helping Oracle with patrol watch until you need to comfort a mildly injured vigilante.

~~~

You never thought you’d be able to see vigilantes in action like this. But, considering you were already aware of everyone’s identities at this point, and with how close you had become with everyone, you were invited to help watch over everyone on patrol. 

Barbara had invited you to the clocktower one day, saying she could use an extra pair of eyes while everyone was out on patrol. Really, she probably just overheard you say how much you wished you could see everyone in action. 

The first thing you noticed when you entered the room was all the monitors. Various tracking maps, security cameras, databases… all on huge screens that towered over you. 

“Whoa…” you breathed, awestruck. 

Barbara turned her head towards you, smiling. “Welcome to my utopia,” she announced with a flourish of her hands. 

You walked over to her desk, really getting a feel for all the technology in the room. You ran your fingers over the table, feeling the smooth wood under your skin. All that was on the desk was a keyboard. There was no need for paper with all those monitors, you guessed. 

“Impressive,” you muttered, transfixed by watching all the movement on the screens. “What happens if the power goes out?”

“Very powerful generators,” she replied, gesturing to one that was sitting under the desk. “We have quite the budget.”

“Right,” you laughed lightly, crouching down next to the desk. “So, what am I looking at?”

She started pointing out each part of the monitors: the locations, which of the moving dots corresponded to which person, the cases that were currently being worked on…

“Oracle,” you suddenly heard a familiar voice coming from Barbara’s comm link. “I need sights on a group of robbers near Gotham National Bank. I’m in pursuit, trying to keep myself out of their sight, and I need to know where I can cut them off.”

“I’ll get right on that, Hood,” she replied, sounding very professional as she started clacking away at her keyboard. 

“Hood?” You asked her quietly, looking at the dot on the map she said was Jason moving very quickly away from the bank. She nodded without breaking her concentration. 

Almost without thinking, you started shouting, “Hi Ja-“ you cut yourself off, suddenly remembering the circumstances you were in when Barbara gave you a stern look. “Hi Red Hood!” You shouted, fixing yourself. 

“Huh?” You heard him reply, confused. “Is that- AH!” 

Suddenly, you heard a loud crash! and saw the dot on the map stop abruptly. You widened your eyes and covered your mouth in shock.

“… Hood?” Barbara asked as you looked at each other, her eyebrows raised. 

“Shit,” he groaned, and you could hear the clanking of metal from around him. “Uh… yeah, I don’t think I’m catching those robbers,” he sighed. “Is anyone else around? I’m going back to the Batcave.”

There was various chatter over the comms, from what you could hear over Barbara’s laughing, before one of the other dots on the map started moving towards where Jason was. 

“You wanna go meet him there?” Barbara asked, covering her comm for a second. 

“Do I wanna…?” You repeated quietly, your eyes widening. “Uhh, am I allowed in the Batcave?”

She shrugged. “Batman’s not there. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” She started clacking on her keyboard again. “I can give you access. I trust you.”

“O… okay…” you muttered, standing up. “I guess I’ll just… go there, then…” You never thought you’d be allowed in the Batcave. It was kind of exciting. 

You followed the directions Barbara gave you, eventually going through some secret tunnels and emerging in a huge, yet oddly well-kept cave. Computers, training equipment, and various vehicles were in their designated places. The place was basically devoid of people, except for…

“Fuck,” you heard a familiar groan, making you stifle a laugh. His steps echoed throughout the quiet cave, sounding like they were coming closer to you. 

You popped out of where you had been standing behind a car, making Jason drop his helmet. That made you really start laughing. 

“Jesus, why are you surprising me so much today?” He asked as you moved closer to him. He looked like he was holding back a smile. “Are you even allowed to be here?”

You shrugged, tucking yourself into his side. “Oracle let me in.”

“Of course she did,” he replied, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Nothing is sacred to that girl.”

As you got a better look at his face, you frowned. Bruises were starting to form on his cheek. “What happened, by the way?” You asked, pointing to them. 

He grit his teeth, looking at you pointedly. “I was chasing people when someone distracted me, and I…” He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “I ran into a bunch of trash cans.”

You covered your mouth, trying not to laugh hysterically, but absolutely failing.

“Hey, don’t laugh,” he rolled his eyes, a slight grin on his face. “It’s your fault.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you shook your head, gently tracing the bruises. “It’s alright, I can make it better.” You stood up on your tiptoes to press a little kiss to his cheek. 

He scoffed, looking like he was blushing a bit as he looked away from you. “I’m not five, that’s not going to work.” He ruffled your hair, making you giggle. “I’ll be fine, no major damage. I’ve been through a lot worse,” he sneered. 

You rolled your eyes. “Not everything has to be about your death,” you poked him in the side, making him laugh. “C’mon, let’s go see Alfred for some first aid.”

[motorsportbarbie13]

Forbidden - Part 5

In which you can't stand to be away from Max any longer

Warnings: descriptions of a crash, swearing (maybe?) Pairing: Max Verstappen x LeClercSister!Reader Word Count: 2.5k words (tiny note from me: I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the lovely feedback and comments. It's truly reinforced my desire to publish the novel I wrote this summer so I've started working on my edits for that<3 you all are such lovely human beings.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Master List

“FP2 is about to start, ma fille.” Your mother says gently, wiping her hands on the dish towel she was holding. “Do you want to watch?” 

You look up from your computer, heart squeezing a bit at the thought of watching anything racing related right now. It’s race weekend in Zandvoort, the first race weekend back after summer break and also Max’s home race. You were supposed to be there for him and your brother this weekend but instead you were at home, in Monaco, with your mother. 

You hadn’t gone to Croatia with your family, much to your mother’s dismay. She had tried to talk some sense in you, despite Charles’ protests. She had been absolutely livid with her son when she found out what he had done, how he had broken up something that was making you so happy. But in the end, Charles had won and you had skipped the entire thing, opting for a few weeks spent in London with a some college friends instead. 

You had been miserable the entire time. 

Meanwhile, in Belgium and then Italy, Max had spent the break equally as miserable. The thought of losing you before you had even really gotten started just ripped him further in pieces. He had respected your wishes though, staying away despite every bone in his body screaming at him to show up at your door and not leave until you realized you two were the real thing. No, he couldn’t do that. If he had learned anything about you in the months that you had been together, even just in secret, it was that you were stubborn and wouldn’t budge on something that you felt strongly about. He had seen that look in your eye the afternoon he walked out of your apartment. He knew he had to be patient and wait for you to come to him, otherwise he risked losing you forever. 

Seeing him on the TV earlier this morning before the first practice session of his home race had sent your heart racing. You missed him so badly. More than you had thought possible. You could tell he was just as miserable as you were just by looking at him. Dark circles cast shadows under his eyes and he looked exhausted, not well rested like the rest of the drivers coming off a four week break.

It broke your heart. 

But every time you thought about going to him, something that skittered through your mind, your brother’s words echoed in your head. You weren’t strong enough. You weren’t good enough. You couldn’t handle it. Max was using you to get back at Charles. Those thoughts flew through your brain at such a speed that the idea of going to him was out of the question. You simply didn’t feel brave enough. 

“You’re going to put it on even if I say no, maman.” You say with a sad smile. 

“Oui, bien sur.” Yes, of course. She replies with a smile, patting you on the shoulder as she passes by to pick up the remote control, switching on her F1TV app on her TV. 

Your mother knew everything that happened, having gotten both sides from both of her babies. She had tried to remain impartial but at the end of the story, she had wanted to strangle Charles. He was being a stubborn idiot, everyone knew it but no one could seem to get through to him. She had never seen you so heartsick before, noting that every time Max was shown on TV earlier during the first practice stint that you perked up a bit, paying more attention to what the commentators said when he was discussed. She knew, just like Max did, that you wouldn’t be moved on this until you were ready though, so she kept her opinions to herself, determined to support you in whatever way you needed. 

Your mother really was a saint among women. 

Will Buxton’s face popped up when the coverage started and you sat, pretending to work on your laptop as you waited for the cameras to show Max. You didn’t care about Charlie, not at all. You weren’t sure how you were ever going to forgive your brother after all he said that afternoon, but currently, you weren’t interested in discussing anything with him. 

“Max seemed to have a good session earlier.” Your mother comments, trying to gently open the door to talk about the man you were so clearly head over heels with. 

You hum in response, quietly watching the coverage. On the screen, the cars are all on the track now. Max seemed to be struggling this session though, despite the smooth start he had earlier. The back of the car kept kicking out on the corners, and the speed just wasn’t there. 

“I’m fighting this thing every step of the fucking way, GP.” He growls over the radio. The sound of his voice in distress sends cold shivers down your spine. 

“Okay, we’ll figure it out. Give it a few more laps to sort itself out and then come back in, yeah?” 

“Sure, why the fuck not.” He snaps. 

You give your mother a look, eyebrows raised. He doesn’t usually get this snippy with GP this early in the weekend unless something was really off with the car. 

“Oh this isn’t going to be good.” You mumble, closing your laptop so you can focus on the TV. 

“And just like that, all the progress that Red Bull made in FP1 is erased. Max seems to really be struggling out there this afternoon.” Will Buxton says as Max slides around a corner. 

“Come in next lap, Max and we’ll get this figured out.” It’s Christian on the radio this time and you know it’s bad. Christian only comes on the radio when GP has had it with the driver and needs someone else to reign him in. 

But Max doesn’t get the chance to get into the pits. As he dives into the next corner on the track, his back end kicks out yet again but this time Max isn’t able to save it. His front tire hits the grass on the inside of the turn, causing him to lose all grip and control over the car, sending the car careening off into the fences on the opposite side of the track. The navy Red Bull car slams into the safety barrier at such an intense speed, you hear yourself scream before you can get your emotions under control. 

You and your mother are on your feet, hands cupped over your mouths as you wait, breathless, to hear that he’s okay. It’s not a messy crash, only bits of the front wing are scattered about the track, but it was the speed at which Max went into the wall that concerns you. 

“Maman.” You whisper, voice cracking in panic. “Oh, maman, he has to be okay.” Panic sings through your blood, desperate to hear his voice over the radio. Heart hammering in your chest, you take several steps closer to the TV, as if getting closer to it will provide you with a better view. 

Next to you, your mother puts a calming hand on your shoulder, giving you a squeeze. You both have seen nasty crashes before, it’s something that you almost expect every weekend but when they do happen, it’s still a shock to the system. You can’t bare anything happening to Max before you’ve had a chance to reconcile. 

Tears spring to your eyes thinking about the last time you spoke to him, how you pushed him away when he so desperately wanted to be there for you. How he had stayed when even your own brother had abandoned you, bruised ego being more important than his own sister. 

“Max, you okay?” GP’s voice rings out over the radio. 

“Ye-yeah, I’m okay.” Max grunts. 

A wave of relief washes over you, a welcome cool splash that calms some of your panic. You stumble back towards the couch, collapsing on the cream cushions, chest heaving as the adrenaline seeps from your body. “Oh my God.” You whimper. 

“He’s okay, ma fille. He’s okay.” Your mother murmurs into your ear, sitting down next to you, wrapping you in a gentle hug. 

“I need to go see him.” The words are out of your mouth before you even have a chance to consider what you’re saying. 

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

Six Hours Later

Max couldn’t recall the last time he had a worse start to a weekend than this. He knew why, of course. It wasn’t the car, even though the car was absolute shit but he’s usually able to overcome a shit car and perform better than the rest of the field anyway. That’s why he’s Max Verstappen. No, the weekend started off so poorly because he had been so distracted. He’s never gotten into the car this distracted and distraught before and it cost him this afternoon during the second free practice. He had binned the car straight into the wall because the only thing he’s been able to think about for the past three weeks is you. 

His entire body hurts as he gets out of the car that evening. He had tried to stay with the mechanics and engineers while they put the car that he wrecked back together. They were going to take a grid penalty for working on the car after curfew, so his weekend was fucked either way. But as the clock approached 11pm, Christian had finally pulled rank and sent him back to the hotel to get some rest. 

It was simply the last place he wanted to be though. A quiet hotel room with nothing else to do but think about what had happened today and how fucked he was if he couldn’t get his shit together before Sunday? No thank you. He wanted nothing to do with that. He had considered telling the driver to take him to whatever the closest bar to the track was but he knew Horner would have an absolute conniption if he did that. So instead, he decided to behave and had let the driver take him back to the hotel. 

Thankfully, there aren’t any fans waiting as the driver pulls up to the front doors of the hotel. It’s late and most everyone is already back in their hotel for the night, resting up for the last practice and qualifying tomorrow. Max is thankful for that, so he doesn’t have to see anyone. The lobby to the hotel is quiet as well, only the night concierge and front desk clerk on duty. 

His steps are soft as he shuffles across the white and gold marble floor towards the elevators. To his left, there is a group of chairs and couches gathered for people to sit on while they wait and he’s surprised to see that there’s someone there, settled in a couch facing away from him. As he gets closer though, the hair that tumbles down around the woman’s shoulders sends a squeeze of pain shooting through his chest. It’s the color of your hair. Fuck, Max, get your shit together, he chides himself as he walks past the figure. 

And then, time stands still for a moment. The person sitting on the couch turns and Max swears he’s completely lost his mind. He’s now conjuring up images of you out of thin air. 

Or his he?

Your heart hammers in your chest when you hear the foot steps sound across the marble floor. You hadn’t really thought of anything beyond getting on the jet and getting to the Netherlands as quick as you could so when you landed, you were somewhat panicked that you didn’t have a plan. A quick call to Lando Norris of all people had solved that problem quite quickly. He had told you exactly where Max was staying but that he was still at the track so there was time to surprise him. 

“Maxie.” You sob, tears pouring down your face at the look of utter confusion and bewilderment sitting on Max’s face. 

“Liefje?” 

You nod furiously as Max finally snaps into action, closing the distance between the two of you with just a few strides. He’s captured you up in his arms, crushing you to his body in a fierce hug, before you’re able to say anything else. 

Home, your body sighs. 

For the first time in weeks, you feel settled, the quiet sense of belonging etching itself deep in your bones the moment you find yourself in his arms. 

“Did you really come back to me, liefje?” Max’s voice is strained, raspy with emotion. “Are you really here right now?” 

You nod vigorously against his neck, burying your head there as you draw in a deep breath. He even smells like home. “I could never leave you, Maxie.” You can’t stop the tears, they just keep falling. “I saw you go into the wall earlier and the first thing that crossed my mind was ‘I never told him I loved him too.’” 

Max nearly loses his grip on you he’s so beside himself. For several long seconds, Max just stands there, clutching you to his chest. He knows he should probably put you down, that your emotional reunion is causing a scene but he can’t quite convince his arms to let go. Almost as if he’s afraid that you’ll disappear again if he lets you go. 

Max does lower you to the ground after managing to convince himself that you are really here and you won’t disappear but he doesn’t take his hands off of you. One hand goes to your waist, the other frames your face as he stares down at you. “Ho-How did you get here so fast?” 

“Maman called up the pilot that Charlie uses and he happened to be in Nice. Lando told me where you were staying and I took an Uber here. I didn’t know what room you were in though, so I had to wait.” 

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” Max takes your hand, leading you towards the bank of elevators. He had one thing on his mind: he needed you alone and he needed to touch every fucking inch of you to convince himself that you were real. 

“I’d wait forever for you, Maxie.” You sigh, stumbling into his arms as the elevator doors ding close. 

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[eyneyke]

A brother?!

Pairing: Max Verstappen x PewDiePie!sibling Summary: What if Felix had a genius brother who works as a RedBull's engineer and is also secretly dating Max part 1 of A Calm to my Storm Masterlist

Felix's computer breaks during a live stream and he calls for help

The livestream was going well—at least, it had started out that way. Felix, aka PewDiePie, was doing a joint stream with Jacksepticeye, playing some ridiculous co-op game. But his computer, stubborn as ever, kept crashing mid-game. After several frustrated sighs, Felix turned to his chat, explaining that he was going to call someone to fix it.

"Ugh, sorry guys, I have no idea what’s going on," Felix muttered, scratching the back of his head. "I think my PC’s dying. Lemme call my brother, see if he can come over and help. He’s good with this stuff."

Jack, ever the jokester, feigning surprise knowing that nobody knew Felix had a brother, chimed in. “Wait, did you just say brother? You have a brother? I thought you had a sister!”

“Yeah, I do, Fenny - who everyone knows already,” Felix said casually, as if it wasn’t news to millions of fans. “and Sam. He’s a mechanical engineer, does some motorsport thingy. Pretty boring.”

The chat exploded instantly with questions and shocked reactions.

User1: "PEWDS HAS A BROTHER???"

User2: "WHO’S SAM??"

User3: "HOW DID WE NOT KNOW THIS???"

Felix hasn't even noticed the fan reaction, already dialling Sam’s number while Jack sat back in smug silence, watching the chat freak out. The call was short and sweet. "Hey, Sam? Yeah, my computer’s being stupid again. Can you come over real quick? Yeah, thanks."

Minutes passed, and Felix distractedly scrolled through his phone while Jack entertained the audience. Then, the doorbell rang.

"Hang on, that’s him," Felix said, disappearing from the screen for a second. When he returned, a tall figure followed him into the room.

The chat went absolutely wild.

Sam had black hair styled into an overgrown mullet that fell messily around his face, held back by a bandana. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt that showed off his toned, slightly muscular arms, which flexed every time he adjusted his grip on Felix’s computer. He didn’t say much, just nodded at Felix and got to work, crouching down in front of the PC, picking it up and on the table, pulling it apart like he had done it a hundred times before.

User4: "OMG WHO IS THIS????"

User5: "IS SAM SINGLE?????"

User6: "HELLO, SAM, NICE ARMS!"

User7: "THAT MULLET THO 😍😍"

Felix and Jack couldn’t help but chuckle at the exploding chat, but Felix remained focused on Sam.

"Need anything else?" Sam asked in a deep voice, standing up after fiddling with the computer for a few minutes. His arms were glistening slightly from the exertion as he dusted his hands off.

"No, that should do it. Thanks, man," Felix replied, glancing at his now-revived PC.

Sam turned to the screen, saw Jack and gave a polite nod. "Hi, Jack," he said casually, waving.

Jack waved back, a bit wide-eyed. "Hey, Sam. Thanks for saving the day, man."

With that, Sam left, exiting as mysteriously as he arrived. Felix settled back into his chair, fixing his headset. "Alright, let's see if this thing actually works now."

But before he could continue the stream, the chat was still going insane, demanding answers.

Felix sighed, glancing at Jack, who was grinning ear to ear. "Fine, fine," Felix said, leaning forward to read the chat. "Yes, that was my brother, Sam. No, I guess I never really mentioned him because, well, he’s busy. He’s, like, a mechanical engineer for some motorsports thingy as I already said. Pretty boring, if you ask me. And he's never home, basically."

Jack laughed. "Boring? Your chat seems to think otherwise."

User8: "HE'S HOT, FELIX."

User9: "DOES HE HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?"

User10: @User9 "BOYFRIEND???"

Felix raised an eyebrow, glancing at the chat. "Uh... I don’t know? I think he mentioned a girlfriend—or maybe a boyfriend? I’m not really sure. I haven’t met them yet."

Jack cackled, "The internet’s going to explode now."

Shrugging, Felix continued, "Anyway, back to the game. Can we focus on something other than Sam now?"

[milkmejae]

Koldkill— p.sh

sypnosis: when boredom leads you to a mysterious online encounter, you meet a cryptic stranger. as the lines between virtual and reality blur, you discover his real, dark identity.

genre: romance (?), suspense

pairing: cyber!p.sh x female!reader

word count: 0.8k

warnings: mentions of obsession, stalking, hacking (?)

playlist: Лёд - WENARO, LXNER

a/n: hi again, i present to you a drabble from my stupid mind, man... i don't even know what am i writing atp. hope u like it, mwa! not proofread

It all started with boredom. Not the casual, “I have nothing to do” kind of boredom, but the soul-crushing, existential kind. You already scrolled through every social media feed, reorganized your desktop folders, and even considered learning to crochet before giving up and diving into the shadiest corners of the internet.

That’s when you stumbled across it: a sketchy flash game website with a gaudy black and neon blue banner reading, “Koldkill” It looked like malware wrapped in HTML, but you were desperate.

Intrigued, you clicked.

The screen went black, then flickered to life, revealing a grainy, snowy landscape. In the middle stood a lone player, their username in Russian: Лёд, google translate told you it meant ice.

A chat box popped up in the bottom corner.

Welcome! Say Hi to A Kolder!

[Лёд]: You’re late.

[You]: ???

[You]: late for what?

[Лёд]: The ghast doesn’t wait.

[You]: ok?? and that means?

[Лёд]: Means you’re bad at this already.

You squinted at the screen, already annoyed. The game had no instructions, just your tiny sprite bundled up in winter gear and Ice standing ominously still.

You fumbled with the arrow keys, making your character shuffle awkwardly through the snow. Ice’s sprite moved with practiced precision, like he’d been playing this game for years.

[Лёд]: Slower than a glacier. Nice.

[You]: Excuse me?

The game was bizarre. There were no clear objectives—just snow, ice, and the occasional death trap that Ice always seemed to anticipate.

[Лёд]: Don’t step there.

[You]: Why not?

You stepped there anyway. A massive icicle fell from the sky, crushing your character.

[Лёд]: Exactly.

Hours passed, but you couldn’t stop playing. Ice was infuriating, cryptic, sarcastic, and way too good at the game but his normally weird comments kept you entertained.

[You]: So, what’s the point of this game?

[Лёд]: Survival.

[You]: And if I survive?

[Лёд]: You won’t.

“Wow, motivational,” you muttered to yourself.

The internet flickered, and the screen froze. When it reloaded, Ice’s sprite was standing unusually close to yours.

[You]: Why are you so close?

[Лёд]: Making sure you don’t disappear.

Your stomach twisted. His cryptic responses were starting to feel somewhat… personal.

It got worse.

As you played, Ice started commenting on things he shouldn’t have known.

[Лёд]: Searching for answers already?

You froze. You had been googling the game in another tab.

[You]: How do you know that?

[Лёд]: I see you.

Your webcam light blinked on.

Panic surged through you. 

[Лёд]: Relax.

[You]: you're creeping me out.

[Лёд]: Interesting.

Right after the reply, the game crashed.

Your computer flickered, and the arctic wasteland returned. The chat box reappeared, but it’s different.

The screen stuttered, static crackling through your speakers. Slowly, pixel by pixel, an image formed—dark, grainy, and unmistakably human.

A man’s face emerged from the static. Pale skin, sharp features, dark eyes that stared directly at you. His black hair blended into the shadows, and though most of his face was obscured, his presence was undeniable.

Your heart stopped.

It couldn’t be.

You leaned closer to the screen, your breath catching. The face belonged to someone you knew. Someone who haunted your waking thoughts and dreams.

Him.

Sunghoon. Park Sunghoon.

The guy you’d been obsessing over for years. The guy whose Instagram posts you liked at 3 a.m. The guy whose photos you saved, whose playlists and home address you found, the guy whose every move you followed like a moth to a flame.

No, it wasn’t possible.

Your chest tightened. How?

His smirk flickered onto the screen, just as sharp and cruel as you remembered from every candid photo you’d seen of him.

[Лёд]: You think you’re the only one who’s been watching?

Your stomach dropped.

You froze in your chair, a cold sweat breaking out on your skin. Memories flashed through your mind—late nights scrolling through his tagged photos, creating burner accounts just to follow his private profiles. You’d thought you were invisible, just another faceless admirer in a sea of them.

Admirer is an understatement.

A stalker.

But he noticed.

And he’s been watching you back.

The screen glitched again, and his voice, smooth, low, and chilling crackled through your speakers for the first time.

You jumped, nearly toppling out of your chair. Hearing his voice made it all real.

Your breath hitched.

The webcam light blinked on. You felt his gaze pierce through you, even though he was just pixels on a screen.

“You think I didn’t see you staring at my photos? Clicking through my life like it was some open book?” he asked. “But I liked it. Knowing you were watching.”

Your hands trembled over the keyboard.

The realization hit you like a freight train. Sunghoon wasn’t just some random crush you’d stalked from afar. He’d been stalking you, too. Harder.

“You know what they say,” he murmured, his smirk now fully visible on the screen.

“Obsession breeds obsession.”

[graysnetwork]

Love, S.R.

Warnings: Stalking, peeping tom

Summary: You bumped into a random man, now he wont leave you alone.

It started with a bump, you’d accidentally crashed into him on the way home, dropping a book you had just bought from the small bookstore that had opened. The man you’d bumped into was coincidentally Simon Riley, a skilled soldier that practically hated everyone he came in contact with.

“Sorry” you mumbled, picking up the book and giving him an apologetic smile. To him that was your way of saying you liked him. He watched as you walked away, admiring your form, staring at your hair, and your body from the back. The attraction was immediate but the obsession grew over time.

He’d followed you home after pretending to walk the other way so as to not attract attention. He kept his distance as he watched you walk up to the townhouse's doorstep and unlock it with your key. He took a picture of the place, just to remember what it looked like before he left.

That was it, for a while. He was deployed and gone from the city for weeks, he was tired and bored when he got back but the idea that started it all was prominent in his head.

He parked his car along the street, he sat back, watching silently. He watched you through your window, of course you left your curtains open; there were no houses across the street—no one to watch you change. Except Simon.

If someone passed by he’d pretend to be on a call, no one questioned him, not even your neighbors who had never seen him around, they never questioned the fact that this guy parked outside all the time and stayed there for long times of the day.

Then he started learning things from the computer guy on base, learned how to text without someone having the ability to track his whereabouts, how to text someone even after being blocked. It all was very helpful, he couldn't thank the nerd enough.

After a week of thinking up how to talk to you he finally shot you a text, it was simple.

Unknown: Hello.

You were confused at first, wondering why the person texting you didn’t show up with a number, it should've been a random number not Unknown. It was weird but you replied since it wasn’t the usual spam messages, maybe someone mixed up numbers and it was an accident, right?

You: Hi

Unknown: (Y/n), right?

You: Who is this?

Unknown: You don't remember me?

You: Sry, no

Unknown: That hurts me, my love

You: Soooo who are you???

The other person doesn't reply, you think it's very, very odd so you delete the conversation.

The next day the same Unknown contact messages you.

Unknown: Morning, lovie

You: who are you?

Unknown: I don’t find that important right now.

You: I do

Unknown: I don’t

You: Im blocking u

Unknown: Really?

You don't reply this time and hit the block button. The texts linger in your mind but you forget about it while you go about your day, shopping, cooking, getting ready for bed. While changing, putting on a different shirt you can’t help but wonder why you feel like something is watching you. Maybe you’re still confused about the texts, maybe it's just that. No ones in your house, no ones spying on you.

Meanwhile Simon sits in his car watching from afar, staring at you as you pull the shirt over your torso, covering your chest, making him slightly irritated that you would cover such a pretty sight.

He thinks about what he's doing right now, debates whether or not this is weird, wonders if he would seem like a peeping tom if a passerby passed by.  It’s fine he thinks I’m just making sure she’s safe—and not bringing boys home.

This... “making sure she's safe” thing goes on for months, every morning he texts you from that unknown contact and says good morning, calls you love, makes sure you're okay. If it were a person you actually knew maybe it would be fine but it was creepy.

Simon on the other hand loved doing this, making sure you were okay and happy, though he noticed you would look a little worried and concerned when you received his messages.

He followed you around, he could tell you looked anxious going out so he upped the dosage of texts and always asked if you were okay, why you seemed so nervous all the time now, Simon couldn't or didn't want to realize that he was the reason you were like this. So paranoid.

Then the gifts started, it began on valentines day. He watched from down the street as you walked up your steps and found the basket. Simon was so happy to see you take it inside, he knew you’d love it. It had gummy bears, a “White Gardenia” scented candle, a small chocolate teddy bear, and a small box that carried a beautiful white gold ring that costed a little over 3k. It was money well spent in his book and he was curious to see if you’d wear it.

He also wrote you a letter, short and sweet

He didn’t see you outside again for another few hours, he wondered why you were in your vanity up in your room, doing your hair, makeup and getting into different clothes—clothes that weren’t for lounging around in your house.

Anger coursed through his body as he watched a man walk up to your doorstep and take you to his car. How can she go out with a guy? She already has me! Simon’s pissed, follows the car you got into and parks far away before following into the restaurant. He’s close to causing a scene before he sees your date go to the bathroom. Now’s his chance.

Simon trailed behind him. Using the urinal near him, scoffing at his size. My love could do so much better, (she could do me) she already has better.

They used the sink at the same time before Simon said “Go home.”

“What?” The man was very confused, who was this man and why was he telling him to go home. “You should go home, buddy” Simon said, his eyes darkened as he looked down at the shorter man. “I’m not your buddy, man” the guy scoffed and walked past him. “Go back to (Y/N) and I’ll punch the shit out of you in front of her.” He threatened, he was not bluffing.

“What the fuck is your problem? How do you even know (Y/N?)” blue shirt mcgee says. “Doesn’t matter, I want you to leave her alone. I want you to never look at her again.”

“Leave me alone, dude” He pulls him back by his shirt and repeats himself “Leave. Her. Alone.”

Blue dress shirt should've listened, if he had he wouldn’t have a black eye and a bloody nose right now. Some men don’t know how to take a hint.

Simon sits back down at his table, eating his pasta silently, keeping an eye on you as you look around, probably wondering why your date was taking so long. Then he sees the guy go up to your table, he sits up, ready to go over and punch him if he sits down, until blue dress shirt grabs his coat and storms out, leaving you confused and worried about why he was bloody and bruised.

He almost feels bad for how lonely you look once he leaves. Almost.

You should’ve just texted him back, thanked him for the gift basket today.

[diino8081]

random zane headcanons i like

(also includes those i've picked up from others)

also will enter spoiler territory for dragons rising season 2 (and a few mentions of season 3 leaks but i'll make that text blue so you can avoid it)

this does also become predictions and interpretations but it works

-- he can't cry but he likes to use his powers to create frost under his eyes. it melts and looks like tears

-- his hair is a type of synthetic titanium that somehow grows over time

ever since ice chapter he's been growing out his hair to cover the port on the back of his neck, additionally he wears clothing that covers it too

i feel like vex would've cut it and kept it short for easy access to the port just in case he needed to do a memory wipe again

-- as time goes on he feels more and more pushed into the role of "robot guy who is only useful for giving information"

he feels restricted to this role as that's the only way he feels useful to the team, eventually ignoring his well-being for the sake of being accepted by the others. ("i don't feel heightened emotions")

-- zane's had identity issues ever since the beginning. discovering he was a nindroid, his new titanium body, the ice emperor, the multiple times he was threatened to be used for parts, the mechanic using him for the portal, the scene with the fear mirror at the explorers club. heck, even that time in season 3 when the students got the everything-remote and messed about with him. the time in crystallized when he crashed the jet and the emperor took over

not to mention the multiple times in dragons rising like how he was stuck in the egg and was set back multiple years (he probably felt like he was being left behind)

and the administration and the people on zane day not seeing him as anyone human (ok well he isn't but i mean a sense of humanity specifically) and the admin trying to disassemble him

-- in better news, this one is a "sometimes" headcanon but zane likes to make music to get his emotions out. specifically like jack stauber as someone mentioned this in their own headcanon and i couldn't stop thinking about it

i stole this one from @acksolotel618

also here's a reply from a convo we had about it in which i go more in depth with my interpretation of it

he would likely do it in secret or hide away inside his computer brain because "he can't let the team find out"

-- back to the angsty point from before: he gets pretty stressed and as the tournament comes along but decides that this is the time to prove himself as more than a robot

and unfortunately, yeah. tourney's rigged and he's out first. this is the beginning of the tipping point. from this point on he gets angry but doesn't really show it.

when jay appears and explains the lore, zane is hit with an "oh shit, he just like me fr". i feel like he would've gone to follow and confront him after he left but instead restrained himself

this is one of the seasons where he's included much less, and it's very noticeable with the race and all the other stuff

❄️❄️❄️

-- i think in season 3 he's gonna finally let out his anger and emotions. especially with pixal around. he's going to find her because the others have been treating him differently and pixal doesn't do that. plus they seem to have given up on her too

❄️❄️❄️

-- nindroid's souls are attached to their power core. if it's damaged then their soul is damaged too

i have ideas for what zane's core is made of but i won't go into anything due to it being spoiler territory for my au. the only hint i'm sharing is that it's appeared in the show before and that the previous master of ice helped with it's creation

i'm probably missing a few but yeah this is basically it

thanks for reading

[documenting-lilyport]

how long have you had your forever world for? also what would you recommend to keep motivating yourself to keep playing on it? i want to have a forever world and i'm hoping i can keep coming back to my current one :]

hey jordan, this is such a great question because i've definitely thought long and hard about this, too, when i first started my forever world.

i've had this save file for almost three months now (+ almost 500 days in-game) and i've been having a blast playing because i've always kept in mind that i was and always will be playing for myself. which is to say, in this sandbox game, i'm playing in a way that prioritises my fun over the idea of 'this is how minecraft is intended to be played.'

of course, what is fun is different from person to person. but these are a few things that i do to keep my save file fun for me:

playing with commands i love building, but i do not love terraforming and i definitely do not find satisfaction in big terraforming projects. so, when i'm building a huge cliff, a detailed body of water, or whatever else that i may find tedious, i will hop into creative mode! i don't have all the time in the world, so i just want to feel joy and feel relaxed when i'm playing on my forever world!

keep inventory + mobGriefing another thing that had always hindered my enjoyment of the game was losing my inventory upon death and having to rush back to get everything before they all despawned. it's just not fun for me personally, so i enabled keep inventory. and though i play mostly on peaceful, i still disabled mobGriefing in case i ever feel like running around on easy!

no set aesthetics i just build what i feel like building with whatever blocks i feel like using. no strict block palettes that i must use in every build, no clear style of building that i'm going for. it gives me so much space to build whatever is currently striking my interest! i have a bunch of videos of other people's world tours, tiny build ideas, etc. that i've been able to add to my save file rather seamlessly because i don't have a set 'aesthetic' that i'm going for :)

set achievable goals this is something that i picked up from youtubers who have worlds that have lasted thousands of in-game days. i'm currently building up lilyport village, but that goal alone is so daunting and vague. so, i break it down into buildings and tiny structures i would personally like to see in the village. a library, a cartography shop, a cascading waterfall, etc. plus, building the village up structure by structure allows me the satisfaction of checking things off as i go! i also have something in game to help me remember the different things i want to add into my world. i noticed you have a goal board in your forever world — me too! i like being able to visualise my goals in its entirety :)

back up your world! i've seen people talk about losing a longterm world (sometimes computers just crash, sometimes the game gets corrupted, etc) and then completely losing motivation to start all over. i keep this in mind every time i'm done with a gaming session and i back up my game on my desktop (after each session), my cloud drive (every few sessions), and an external drive (every few months)!

there are definitely other things that i'm forgetting, but these are the ones that i run into most frequently. i would also recommend checking out luvstar's video on this specific question, they've been my biggest inspiration in starting my forever world so i thought i'd include their video as well :)

obviously, these aforementioned points are what makes it fun for me.

so, if you prefer a little challenge or if building is not all that fun for you, there are other ways to play minecraft! it's a sandbox — tweak it to your liking!

thanks again for this lovely question, i hope i haven't yapped your head off and have fun!

also also — if anyone out here has a longterm world, please chime in in the replies or the reblogs as well :)! who knows who you will inspire with your lovely addition!

[awkwardtickleetoo]

Love Me Knot

helloooo everyone!! this is the fic for this ask from @sleepy--anon that i mentioned was going to be a full fic!! i didn’t intend for it to be a full fic when i first got it but i really just had too much in my mind to make it cohesive enough for an ask soooo fic it is!!

also make sure to check out @mushiewrites’s answer for this ask here bc i definitely stole a decent amount of details from his answer as well lmaooo

but either way, hope everyone likes this unnecessary fic <3

lee!dream, ler!sapnap, ler!george, 2.9k words

enjoy!

--

can you come to my room for a sec

i need help hanging something up

Dream watched the text message pop up on his phone screen as he sat at his computer, switching diligently between his editing software and his email. He picked up the phone, typing out a quick ‘sure’ before placing it back down on the desk and heading upstairs.

When he got there, Sapnap’s door was already half open, so he pushed it the rest of the way and looked inside. Sapnap was kneeling on the bed, looking at him before he even stepped into the room, and he furrowed his eyebrows at the strange look he was given.

“Hi?” He said as he took a few more steps forward.

“Hey, you,” Sapnap replied, smiling sweetly at him. He returned the smile, calmed by it, assuming the previous expression was just a result of him waiting for Dream to arrive. He walked forward more, now in front of the bed, tapping his thigh with his fingers.

“So… what did you need help with?”

“Oh! Right. Well, uh…” Sapnap started, sitting up on his knees and crossing his ankles under him, and only then did Dream notice him reach behind him, movements slow, like there was something behind his back that he didn’t want him to see. Dream narrowed his eyes, his suspicions returning, trying to tilt his head to see behind Sapnap, but he kept blocking the view. “So… I was, y’know, I was looking online and I saw– I saw this cool picture of, like… of how someone had hung up… a poster…“ Sapnap spoke slowly, subtly glancing behind Dream, only making him more confused. He furrowed his eyebrows again, a puzzled look on his face, starting to turn around to follow his eyes.

“What are you loo–”

Then, out of absolutely nowhere, there was a loud scream and something was crashing into Dream’s back, making him yell out in shock as he was tackled face first onto the bed.

“AHH—!“ He screamed, attempting to get a grasp on the situation and figure out what was happening, but he heard the signature sound of laughter that he recognized immediately– not just Sapnap’s, but George’s as well. “WH– GEORGE?!” He yelled, surprised that he was even there.

He attempted to turn himself over, but it became immediately apparent to him that he was not able to do so– actually, he wasn’t able to move at all.

He let out a gasp at the realization, squirming as much as he could, still caught completely off guard and more confused than he had ever been. Sapnap and George were both on top of him, Sapnap sitting on the back of his thighs and George on his lower back. His knees were held together between Sapnap’s thighs as he wrapped an arm around his ankles to hold them up, and his hands were pinned behind his back by George.

“WHAT IS– WHAT–” He twisted his shoulders, trying uselessly to buck his hips against the bed or knock either of them off, but nothing seemed to work. He turned his head to the side, and suddenly his eyes locked on the very thing he had been trying to see earlier.

Several coils of rope sitting on the bed next to him.

He didn’t know what they were planning, but whatever it was, he was screwed.

“No–“ He muttered, his breathing growing more and more panicked as he thrashed with much more urgency. “No, no, no, please– please, wha-whatever you’re gonna do—!” He cut himself off with a frustrated groan when he couldn’t throw either of them off. Usually, that wouldn’t be a problem for him at all, being much bigger and stronger than both of them individually or combined, but being so caught off guard and pinned in such a compromising position made it nearly impossible for him to gain any leverage at all, and it was nowhere near enough to push himself back up.

He watched them each grab one of the ropes, and his heart dropped as he felt them begin to tie them around his wrists and ankles.

“NO! NO, nonono, come ON– WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU GUYS?!” Dream tried to get their attention, but it only made them both laugh at his struggle. He groaned again, frustration growing as he strained against their hands and the ropes, curling his toes and clenching his fists as he tried everything in his power to get free, but it only made them push even further. Sapnap pulled on the ropes, tightening them around his ankles and making him gasp in surprise, before tying it off and rubbing his fingers over the knot to admire his work. “What– what are you guys even doing, I– what is the point of this!”

“There’s no point. We just felt like messing with you,” George explained, tightening and tying off his section of rope as a finishing thought, and Dream groaned again. They both pushed themselves off him, leaving him free to squirm and twist his limbs in the rope, a sad and unsuccessful attempt to free himself. He let out a sigh and rolled his eyes, smiling fondly at their antics despite the fact that they were essentially holding him hostage.

“Cool, congratulations, you’re both idiots, are you entertained? Can I go back to doing my job now?” Dream asked, trying to be cold, though his tone was too soft to warrant it.

“Hmmm… nah, we’re not done with you yet,” George said with a smirk, earning another defeated groan from the man below him. Before Dream could ask what he meant, he felt a strong hand grip the rope around his ankles and pull them up again, holding them in place through his squirming. He watched George take the last piece of rope and hand it over to Sapnap, and it took him less than a second to realize what was about to happen, but Sapnap was already looping it around his binds to tie them together, pressing one knee into Dream’s back to keep him in place as he worked..

“Oh, fuck off!” He complained, squirming harder to try and stop the new tie from happening, but Sapnap was quick and Dream was already totally helpless in his current position. Sapnap tied off the rope, pulling it tight to make sure it was secure, earning another gasp from Dream when he yanked on it, which made them both giggle again. Sapnap moved his knee, letting Dream squirm as much as he wanted– well, as much as he could, really, which wasn’t much more than a few inches in any direction.“This is so STUPID!” He grumbled again, frustration coursing through his veins at how trapped he was, using it as fuel to ignore the tingles in his chest and the butterflies in his tummy as the compromising position.

“Not for us, I think this is awesome, look what I can do now!” Sapnap said, and suddenly there were fingers scratching at the soles of his socked feet, and he squealed in surprise before falling into high pitched laughter.

“AH! Okahahay! Ohokahay!” He said through laughter, slightly muffled as he buried his face partially in the pillow underneath him, already flushed and warm from both embarrassment and his struggling. “N– ahaha, stohohop!” He pleaded, curling his toes, twisting and turning his ankles as much as he could to try and kick off the offending fingers. He yanked at his wrists as well, flexing his fingers as the tickling stopped, and he felt Sapnap’s fingers intertwine with his as he gently grasped his hand. He let out residual giggles as he turned his head to the side, squeezing Sapnap’s hand in appreciation. “Gohod– okay, congratulations, yohou’ve– you got what you wanted, are you done?”

“Nah,” Sapnap replied, squeezing Dream’s hand once more before letting go. “That isn’t even what we wanted to do, it was just too good to pass up.”

“Oh my god,” Dream groaned, rolling his eyes again, and then he felt a hand on his shoulder and one on his thigh. “What– OH, my god!” Dream yelped as he felt himself being moved, and the hands on his body turned him onto his side. He groaned at the new position, squirming and thrashing in hopes that it would give him more leverage, but it actually seemed to do the opposite. He sighed, breathing heavily as he recovered from another round of struggling, and he had no choice but to accept the new position– on his side, his back to the other two, both of them looming over him with smug smiles on their faces. “I hate both of you. So much,” Dream said in an annoyed tone, shaking the hair out of his face.

“That’s okay, we know. Ready to hate us more?” George said, and before Dream got a chance to respond, there were nails scratching at the center of his tummy over his t-shirt. He gasped, eyes wide, as he looked down immediately at the offending hand– George’s, he noticed, but Sapnap’s weren’t much farther away, and he didn’t expect them to stay that way– and the feeling began to register in his mind.

“Oh, shit– wahahait– fuck–” He spoke quietly, very quickly realizing how horrible his current position actually was, every nerve ending under his skin lighting up like fireworks as the scratching motion continued. “Stop, stohohop, stopstopstop–“ His panic grew stronger, his tummy jumping under the touch, and he was unable to squirm or push away from the sensation at all. Dream shifted his hips, trying to curl his legs forward or tuck in his shoulders, anything to shift the forced arch of his back, but nothing seemed to work.

With every push of his legs, there was a pull on his arms, which only pushed his tummy out more forcefully, making him squeal and push in the opposite direction. His laughter was consistent now, growing from light and airy giggles to breathy laughs that made him gasp, which very quickly turned completely breathless as George’s other hand joined the mix.

“Oh gohohod, oh god, plehehehease!” He begged, his chest rising and falling heavily as he tried to compose himself, to show that it wasn’t getting to him at all and they could totally just give up and let him go, but he had no such luck. “Thihihihis ihis soho mehehean!”

“We know,” Sapnap said fondly, trailing his hands up to join George’s, gently tugging Dream’s shirt up to expose his bare skin, giggling as they both watched his tummy flutter at the cool air that blew over it.

“Nahahaha!” Dream giggled, scrunching his nose up at the new sensation, instinctively sucking his stomach in as much as he could, though it didn’t do much to help him.

George’s nails began to scratch under his shirt now, pushing the hem up even further as they stayed around the same spot and explored around the middle of his tummy and over the front of his ribs, which just so happened to be conveniently pushed forward for him to play with. Dream couldn’t hold in the squeak he let out, biting his lip in embarrassment before grumbling and whining all over again.

“C’mohohohon– nohoho, this suhuhucks– AH!” Dream helped again, this time because of George’s nails reaching the spot below his ribs on the side of his tummy closest to the bed. His squirming kicked up again, more frantic now, as he tried to twist his wrists and turn himself back onto his stomach to shield himself from the unbearable feeling. “Oh myhy gohohod– ahaha, plehehehease!” George laughed at his pleading, keeping up the motion as he pulled his other hand back, using it to grab onto Dream’s elbow and pull him back, pressing down on his upper arm to push his chest out and keep him firmly in place– which Dream did not appreciate whatsoever. “Nohohoho!”

“Aw, Dreamie,” Sapnap mocked, a fake pout on his face as he pulled Dream’s hip back to adjust him as well. He let his fingers trace over Dream’s side, trailing down to the side of his tummy, both hands scratching at the spot just next to his belly button and making him fall into squeals and cackles. “What’s wrong?”

“I cahahan’t dohoho anyhythihihing!” Dream whined, squirming desperately against the binds and bodies holding him in place, trying to kick or push or thrash away from the ticklish feeling that spread through his whole nervous system, but he was completely trapped. All he could do was shake and tremble under their cruel nails, scratching non-stop at his sensitive tummy, shaking his head as his curls fell over his face.

“We know,” George mirrored Sapnap’s earlier words, readjusting his grip on Dream’s arm and using his other hand to hold his shoulder.

Then, Sapnap’s hands moved downward to the waistband of his pajama bottoms, and he began scratching and scribbling his nails over his whole lower stomach, squeezing at the spots near his hips every so often, giggling as Dream yelped and broke out into loud, helpless laughter.

“AH— NOHOHO! Nohohoho, nonono, plehehease, please, stohohop!” Dream thrashed as much as he could, his movements much more frantic this time, but still yielding the same results as always, nearly nothing. “PLEASE, I cahahahan’t–!” He begged, squeezing his eyes shut and causing them to tear up from how tight they were closed. His face was still bright red and burning hot, his breathing still heavy and his throat starting to get dry from it. “Sahapnahahap PLEHEASE, stohohop! I cahahan’t tahahake ihit!”

“Aww, you can’t take it, cutie?” Sapnap teased, and Dream nodded frantically at the question. “You don’t really have a choice,” He finished, making Dream groan and whine, laughing breathlessly when Sapnap’s hands moved to scratch up and down his tummy instead. He couldn’t stop the way his back arched even further that the feeling, a shiver running down his spine, and he let out a sound somewhere between a gasp, a growl, and a whine.

“Hmm– ah!” Dream curled his shoulders in more, hiding his face in the pillow again, catching his breath and letting out airy giggles at the different sensation. He had to admit, it felt kind of nice after the cruel tickles he had just been given, and he wouldn’t really mind if Sapnap continued like that for a while.

But, as he anticipated, Sapnap moved right back to scratching at his lower tummy, and he broke into loud and desperate laughter once again.

“FUCK– nahahaha!” He whined, throwing his head back and forth, his only outlet to get his energy out. “Cohome OHOHOHON, Sahahapnahap!” He complained, finally able to wrench his arm out of George’s grasp so he could twist his body to be flat again, able to fully bury his face in the blankets as he laughed.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Sapnap chuckled as he let go of the bound man below him, unable to keep his fond giggles in as Dream let out his leftover ones, muffled into the blanket he was hidden in. “You good down there, giggles?”

“You guys are actually so stupid,” He muttered, shifting slightly so his voice wouldn’t be muffled. “What even made you think of this shit?”

“Uh… I dunno, actually…” Sapnap replied, resting his hand on Dream’s back and rubbing soothingly up and down his spine.

“Yeah, I think we were just bored and wanted to mess with you,” George explained, subtly reaching forward to fiddle with Dream’s fingers where his bound hands rested near his lap. He could see Dream smile at the action, wordlessly hooking his finger with George’s in acknowledgment before letting him play with them how he wanted.

“I hate you guys so much,” Dream repeated, tone betraying him once again, and the room was silent for a few moments as everyone began to relax.

Well, until Dream delivered a necessary reminder.

“Are you guys gonna like… untie me?”

“OH!” Both men jumped into action at once, all three of them laughing at the situation as they quickly removed the rope from Dream’s wrists and ankles. As soon as he was free, he turned onto his back and stretched his body out, groaning as he felt the tension in his shoulders, hips, and knees that had formed from the position disappear.

He let out a sigh and relaxed against the bed, looking up at the other two and reaching his arms out to them. Sapnap reacted immediately, vaulting himself over to Dream’s other side and curling up beside him, smiling when he wrapped his arm around his shoulder and let his thumb rub gently over his hoodie. George didn’t move as quickly, even when Dream gave him grabby hands and his signature puppy eyes, so Dream threw his arm around George and yanked him down instead, earning a squeak in response as George fell next to him. He chuckled, mumbling a small, “that’s better,” and he ruffled George’s hair before he felt him finally relax into his arms.

George carefully pulled up the fuzzy throw blanket on Sapnap’s bed, covering their legs and getting comfortable where he was yanked to lay, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from slipping shut in the calming atmosphere.

“So, when do I get to do that to you guys?”

[anamoon63]

Your TS3 gameplay really does inspire me to give that game another shot. Are there specific mods you use to make sure the game runs smoothly/is stable? What mods/cc are the best to use so the sims look good?

Hi, Marci! 😊

First of all, thank you very much for your ask. Knowing that my sims and/or my gameplay can inspire other simmers to play means a lot to me cause The Sims 3 is my favorite game in the whole Sims series. Plus, I love my sims, so this makes me twice as happy. 🤗💖

That said, it is my duty to warn you that The Sims 3 is not an easy game to maintain, it requires a lot of care and patience, even from the moment of its installation. You ask me what it takes to make it run smoothly and make it stable, well I'm no expert, but what helped me with that is all contained in this Steam post. I believe these tips you can follow even if you don't have your game on Steam. I followed all these steps when I reinstalled my game back in 2017-18, and I have never had a problem like lag or crashes since then.

It's thanks to the amazing person who wrote that post and to talented modders like @lazyduchess and Twallan (Nraas Mods), whose mods I consider indispensable, that I have been able to play The Sims 3 without problems for years now. I may have had a couple of crashes due to some wrong or corrupt cc, but that's on me because I download a lot of stuff. In those cases, it's a matter of locating the bad cc, taking it out, and that's it. The game runs great, even with a ton of mods installed. (I have a 9 GB mods folder, and I've had more than that at times, lol, but I try to keep in less than 10 GB always).

As for what mods and cc's to use to make the sims look good, well, that would depend on your taste, or as they say now, on the aesthetics of your game or your sims.

For what it's worth, I have always used Ephemera's E-WEAK skin as default. I also use some other Ephemera's like E-Skin Natural MIX, Asia and Fresh. I use some by Kurasoberina too.

I think Ephemera's site doesn't exist anymore, but the E-WEAK skins I use can be downloaded on MTS here. Kurasoberina TS3 skins you can find them here along with more of their fabulous content.

I'm sure there are other skins much newer, and super nice too, but these are the ones I use, cause they give my sims the look they are known for. 😊

Also I use Tifa N38 default eyes, as well as Buhudain's You Are Real body and face maps replacements to give some realism to my sims' skins/bodies. Neither Tifa's nor Buhudain's sites exist anymore, unfortunately, but you can still find Buhudain's archives on this SFS page. And those of Tifa in this other one in Mega. (I hope I am not doing wrong by sharing them, otherwise I will remove them).

There's also this stunning version of Buhudain's You are Real by @nectar-cellar named You are Hyperreal. :)

As for the rest, if I start listing all the other content I use such as hair, clothes and makeup I would never finish, I'd gladly share my whole mods folder, but I don't want to piss off the creators, or blow-up other players' computers, lol. I'm WCIF friendly, though, so feel free to ask for any specific content, of any type, CAS or Buy/Build, I got my custom content well documented, so I'll provide you with links to any of them.

For the time being, here is this link to my custom Content List on my Blogger. I have kept this list for many years, and I still use most of that content; it may be a little outdated of course, cause I have a lot of new stuff now, so my intention is to update the page soon when/if I have the time. Also, some of the links may not work anymore, if so just let me know and I'll fix them for you if I'm able.

I hope this answer has helped you. Sorry for taking so long to reply, but I wanted to make this post as detailed as possible. If you have any other questions about The Sims 3, I'll be here whenever you need me. Good luck and happy simming! 😉💗

[just-a-carrot]

ahem…your genzy drabble, my good carrot :3

(direct copy-paste from what I dumped in my friend’s DM’s lol)

hear me out on this: iggy working on a rlly important project for work or doing a rlly hard boss fight in his game that makes him do this to the point it’s late

Genzou leans on the arm of Iggy’s gaming chair “Damn, you’re really still on this, huh? Been hearin’ ya type all day. It’s a wonder how your fingers aren’t crampin’.” he comments.

Iggy just nods. “Yeah. This shit is taking me way longer than it should. And trust me, they are.” Iggy frowns and furrows his brows as he utters that last sentence.

Genzou yawns and blinks tired, lazy eyes. “Well, I’m heading up to bed. Today knocked me flat on my ass and I need my beauty sleep so I don’t drive myself up the fuckin’ wall tomorrow.”

“M’kay. I’ll head up too when I’m done.” Iggy replies, eyes still glued to the screen.

Genzou kisses his cheek. “Night, Iggs. Please don’t work yourself to the bone. I expect to see my adorable stick figure-shaped boyfriend in my arms when I wake up tomorrow, okay? Love you so much.”

“Stick figure???” Iggy cocks a brow and turns his head, but Genzou has already started walking down the hall and moving his cane around to try to find their bedroom door.

Later that night, Genzou wakes up, blearily blinking his eyes and sitting up a bit in he and Iggy’s bed. He doesn’t need to see to know that it’s still late as fuck from the way he can hear the cicadas still screaming from outside due to the open window kept open to keep air circulation through the apartment. God, he has to piss. Drinking before bed is always a fucking mistake.

Genzou pads down the hall down to the bathroom, feeling against the wall for that familiar handle, and does his business. After flushing, he begins to walk back towards the bedroom, where he hears soft breathing coming from his left. Genzou blinks, then remembers. Oh right, Iggy was working on something, wasn’t he? He must’ve passed out midway.

Genzou may have been exhausted and ready to crash as soon as he hit the soft sheets of their bed again, but he can’t help but smile to himself a little imagining Iggy asleep as his computer, laying forward on his arms and drooling a little like he did when they were kids.

Genzou walks quietly over until the breathing sounds as close as it can get. Genzou feels for the computer desk a tad, confirming that Iggy is right in front of him.

He reaches his arms out, carefully finding Iggy’s legs and back, scooping him gently into his arms, feeling his boyfriend’s warmth against his chest as Iggy instictively cuddles against his chest, nuzzling his face against Genzou’s neck. Genzou’s heart flutters a bit. He swears that there has never been a time that Iggy doesn’t make his chest want to explode, in anxiety or in adoration. He loves this boy so goddamn much.

Genzou carries Iggy back to their bed, careful not to wake his sleepy boy up, and places him tenderly onto the bed, tucking him underneath the sheets which Iggy quickly curls into. Genzou climbs in next to him, wordlessly pulling him into his chest and closing his eyes, kissing Iggy’s forehead and listening to his soft snores before sleep finally takes him as well.

(okay drabble over aaaaaaaaaaaa they make me so ill. all I ever do is write about iggy maxwell being cute with boys >/////<)

actual photographic evidence of me reading this:

this is SOOOOOOO CUUUUUUUUTE ARGJGGJKJDKJFASLKDJFASD

LOSING MY MIND

i could not stop smiling and flailing 😭💕

this was too precious and sweet thank you so much for sharing. it really made my day!!!!!!!

"all I ever do is write about iggy maxwell being cute with boys" -> LKDLKFJASDLKFASD I CHOKED WITH LAUGHTER real tho

[peterbazooca]

Currently obsessed with the potential in a dark urge who had something with Gortash only to rebirth on the mind flayer ship like a hard reset computer and fall in love with Astarion, and the only way out is through, it would seem, so have some fic! Prologue to something longer, maybe???

Still fuming from Ketheric’s utter audacity, Ronen let his feet carry him to the right chamber inside the colony, ignoring the intellect devourers as they scuttled past his boots. The arrogance of Myrkul’s chosen, chastising him like a misbehaving child? No matter how many times he tried to push the encounter from his mind, it would not be subdued. If it wasn’t for the plan, for his own grand plan, he would have cut that condescending smirk from the old man’s face in front of his simpering sycophants, would have fed the scraps to the pestilent cats that roamed his battlements. But it wasn’t Ketheric’s time. Soon, but not yet.      The squish squash of boots over flesh let him know he was no longer alone. He propped himself against a stone table as Gortash swanned into the room, his smokey cloak billowing behind him; an intriguing effect, given the lack of wind in a mind flayer colony.             “Ah, my friend, there you are!”

Ronen’s stomach flipped. His eyes fixed on Gortash’s gauntleted hands, and his thoughts lingered on the last time he had seen those hands, less than a week ago, when they’d been wrapped choking tight and oh so perfectly around his throat. Ronen forcefully exiled the memory. It would not do to get distracted, not now.             “Gortash,” he replied easily enough. “I was getting worried. It’s not like you to keep me waiting.”             But the smile on his lips rang false. This was wrong, and it had to stop, this thing between him and Gortash. If his father ever discovered the true extent of just how far he had fallen…well, Ronen didn’t like to dwell. Father had given him everything: love, power, a home. Ronen would not forsake him, not for the chosen of father’s rival. Not for anything. Idly, his fingers reached for the prayer scroll he’s spent half the day feverishly composing. He would carry the reminder of his greatest mistake with him everywhere, if it would prevent him from repeating it.             He dragged his eyes up to find Gortash circling him like a vulture scenting carrion, and his smile said he knew exactly where Ronen’s mind had just been.             “Come now, my friend, when you hear the good news I have, you won’t even remember to be upset with me.”             The smile tugging at his lips now was real, and Ronen turned away. It was uncontrollable, and exactly the reason he had insisted Gortash meet him here, today. He could not, would not, let this thing between them continue, no matter how he longed to feel Gortash’s hands on his skin once more. He gripped the table beneath him to cease the shaking of his hands. His eyes opened—he didn’t remember closing them—and, resolve restored, he made to turn, only to be greeting with a blow that sent him crashing into the table. Instruments and implements scattered across stone to hit the meaty ground soundless as agony exploded through his skull. And on the heels of the first blow was a second, harder, sharper. His forehead cracked off the stone below him and copper flooded his mouth. The blows kept coming, but Ronen couldn’t get his feet beneath him. His boots slid on blood-slicked flesh and his vision swam until the entire room was on its side. The pain was unlike anything he had ever known, and he cried out, screams shredding his throat.             Black folded in around him, and for a single moment of perfect clarity, Ronen was grateful. ~/\~/\~/\~/\~ He opened his eyes to red on all sides. He could barely move, maybe half a foot in either direction. Blood was hot on his skin, hot in his eyes, burning and burnishing until all he saw was red red red. His hands were agony, fingers bent back and broken. His head throbbed and rage throttled his screams down to choked, impotent gurgles. They would pay they would pay they would pay for this!             They, who had attacked him. They who had split his skull. They who had stuffed him into this sarcophagus! Who were they? He tried to remember, but the tighter he grasped at the memories, the faster they slipped away, from him until he had nothing. Until he was nothing. His broken hands pressed flat to the glass window of his…pod. He would get out. One day, he would get out, and whoever did this to him would pay, of that he was sure.             Gathering what little strength remained in his body, Ronen hurled himself at the lid of the pod, and he didn’t stop until his shoulder popped out of his socket, or when his elbow shattered with a fresh wave of agony, or when his legs gave out beneath him. He would never stop.   He would never stop.

[detectiveichijouji]

Case 28 - Fântome -Phantom-

[AO3 version]

“Sorry Ken, we found the fake Kaiser and… they escaped!!”

Daisuke phoned Ken late at night, and then they talked for a few hours. If Ken could see Daisuke’s face now he would’ve seen a super duper pout. He was sulking, yeah.

“It’s okay, we managed to get some information in the meantime.”

“Did you!?”

“Miyako-san left so Iori-kun and I kept browsing through the internet and researching Unryuuji Naito. As Hikari-san mentioned, he’s a student from Taichi-san class, and more… His family runs a manufacturing business.”

“Huh… What do they work with? I mean, what do they build?”

“They build softwares and hardwares, in other words, machines and their applications.”

“Wait… So they build computers, and sort of that technology?”

“Yeah, moreso… And this means Unryuuji Naito is probably building the fake shards with a 3D printer.”

“Hehe, we’re on the right lead to catch them, right Sherlock??”

“This is not only my work,” Ken babbled, “Miyako-san and Iori-kun helped too. I’m not… Good with computers. At least not the current ‘me’... The Kaiser… Who I was in the past had a more skill set with computers and programming.”

“No sweat, you got help. Isn't it better to do things in a group than alone?”

“Ah, I agree. Thank you for reminding me of that.”

Days had passed, and they didn’t hear anything about the suspicious faux Kaiser or Unryuuji Naito. At least Ken was thankful Daisuke’s birthday wasn’t ruined by those two (so far) and they all had spent the day doing stuff with the group. Even Noel managed to drag Soleil and Lune into it to at least be courteous and wish Daisuke a happy birthday.

Soleil kept telling himself ‘I WANT TO BE NICE I WANT TO BE NICE I WANT TO BE NICE’ in some murmurs, while Lune was feeling she was walking on eggshells around Hikari. Since this ended up quite awkward, Daisuke took a long breath and then told those two to not force themselves if they’re not comfortable around him and his friends.

Noel wasn’t aware of that and then apologized to both parties for that. He wanted both of his group of friends to get along though…

“You can’t force people to like each other” Takeru said, and despite it sounding cold…

“No, I understand.”

“I’m just telling you, it might sound harsh but it’s true.”

“Well” Noel shrugged, “Soleil-san and Lune-san have to cooperate with you now. At least don’t fight each other.”

“We can make a truce, at least” Ken suggested, “But we might not interfere in each other’s businesses.”

“Hey hey HEY, it’s my birthday!” Daisuke pouted, “Don’t start a whole fight here, at least!”

“Yeah, it’s Daisuke’s birthday!” V-mon also pouted, mimicking Daisuke’s gestures, “If you want to fight,  open a gate and go fight in the Digital World, not here!”

“Besides, why are we at Joypolis?” Patamon asked.

“I uh… I love the arcade so I thought it would’ve been a good idea, haha…” Daisuke chuckled nervously.

“Oh, it’s because of that blue hedgeho--” V-mon was about to say something but Daisuke immediately covered his mouth.

“Togemogumon exists in this world?” Noel asked.

“Togemogumon?” The 02 kids blinked.

“Or is it a blue version of Herissmon?” he wondered.

“Herissmon?” and again they repeated like if those names were unknown to them all.

“Wow, they don’t know what you’re talking about~” Lunamon said, scoffing.

“Well, sorry that we don’t know every digimon in the Digital World!” Tailmon hissed.

“They’re hedgehog-like digimon” Coronamon replied, trying to avoid the imminent fight.

“Wow, hedgehog digimon…” Daisuke said in awe.

“D-DAISUKE, YOU’RE NOT REPLACING ME WITH A HEDGEHOG DIGIMON RIGHT?!” V-mon panicked, and somehow Daisuke’s interest in hedgehogs finally hit him badly.

“No, I’m not… I can’t replace you with some unknown digimon! You’re my bud!!”

“Daisukeeeeeee!!” V-mon was holding back his tears.

“Sigh…”

“Aaah~ I ate like a king!” Daisuke crashed in bed, with V-mon next to him “I think this was a good day. I’m officially 17, yeah!!”

“... But why was that kid trying to cause a new crisis…”

“Huh?” Daisuke looked at V-mon, who was now sitting on the bed, “You mean the fake Kaiser-wannabe?”

“Yeah, I… I don’t understand why a Chosen Child would cause chaos in order to fix it.”

“You mean… Them staging a new menace only to beat it and get all the glory?”

V-mon nodded in silence. Daisuke then sat next to him and started musing, he wanted to understand those people too, or rather, find a peaceful way to stop them before things got bad.

“That’s too troublesome” the boy sighed, “We need to find who that masked kiddo is and make them stop.”

“But… How can he do that?”

“Do what?”

“He really sounded like Ken…!”

“Maybe he was using some equipment to mask his voice, uh… I think I’ve seen those before in a movie. Oh you can do it with a few audio programs on the computer. Miyako definitely knows how.”

“Yeah… I think--”

Something sounding like glass shattering was heard from the balcony. Daisuke and V-mon got up and ran to its entrance and found a strange digimon that was a bullfighter look-like vampire… On the edge of the balcony.

“Who are you!?” V-mon said, with a serious glare.

The digimon didn’t answer, he just raised his claws. He was about to attack when V-mon jumped in midair and evolved into XV-mon. Matadrmon tried to hit Daisuke with his sharp claws, but the boy jumped from the balcony and was caught by XV-mon’s arms, carefully.

“Man, I thought my birthday would be less fired up but I guess not,” Daisuke complained with an annoyed tone of voice, “Who the heckie are you!?”

“...”

“If you’re not goin’ to talk, we will have to send you back to the Digital World!”

The opponent attacked again, this time throwing a ton of rapiers against XV-mon, who managed to dodge most of them, and some he just tried to avoid getting hit on Daisuke. One of them grazed the boy’s left cheek, causing a little cut.

“Daisuke!” XV-mon gasped.

“I’m okay, I’m okay!” he tried to keep XV-mon calm, then he looked at the foe digimon, “Why don’t you talk , you!!”

Matadrmon laughed, and then he snapped his claws, taking the appearance of a human being wearing a mask.

“You again!?”

“You will deliver a message to Ichijouji Ken for me, and if you refuse…”

“If what, you punk??” XV-mon growled.

“I don’t like this…” Daisuke babbled, he was not the kind to be the ‘pessimist’ of his group, but there’s times Daisuke was very able to feel when things wouldn’t end well.

Ken had finished his dinner and was just reading the recent stuff sent by Inspector Fujieda, about an illegal activity past midnight with a few suspects (“He” was one of those suspects alas) when his phone rang.

Wormmon got up from Ken’s lap and let the boy get up to reach his phone. Then, Ken answered the call:

“Hello?”

“Ken. Listen, I have not much time, but you have to go to the Digital World right now.”

“Daisuke?” Ken’s heart skipped a beat, what did he mean by ‘not having much time’???

Ken looked at the computer, and the digivice lying on the desk. He clutched the phone.

“Where are you?”

“That doesn’t matter now!! Please… Do it for me…!!”

“Hold on, why are you wavering? What’s happening??”

The call was abruptly interrupted. Did Daisuke hang up forcibly or someone else was with him?

“What happened, Ken-chan?” Wormmon asked, concerned, “You’re pale…”

“Something happened to Daisuke.”

“As I suspected!”

They heard Arsenemon’s voice, and then the phantom thief appeared in front of their eyes.

“Arsenemon??” Ken and Wormmon said, in unison.

“Sorry, I was eavesdropping on your call with monsieur Motomiya. I do not suggest going alone though.”

“... Do you have a plan, is what you mean?” 

“Oui.”

Ken messaged Miyako, Iori, Takeru and Hikari and told them to meet him at a certain coordinates he received from Daisuke. He feared for the worst, but hoped for the best. A brief explanation as for why he called them at this hour and that Arsenemon had a plan.

They all went there immediately.

“Ok, what now Ken-san?” Hawkmon asked Ken.

“I don’t get it…” Armadimon tilted his head.

“Daisuke said to meet him here, but I don’t see him--”

“Ken! Everyone!”

They heard Daisuke’s voice and followed it… To find V-mon and the hooded human holding him as hostage. The voice came from a… hooded Daisuke!?

“Daisuke!? What are you--” Ken gasped, the others were filled with mixed feelings of worry and anger.

“Don’t care about me!” V-mon shouted, “Stop Gigadramon!!”

“Gigadramon??” Tailmon raised an eyebrow.

They didn’t take time for details, a Gigadramon appeared from the top of the trees. The hooded Daisuke took another fake fragment and when he was about to use it on V-mon…

“Un deux trois!”

V-mon was protected by an Ace of Hearts card, which also worked as some sort of gate and “Ken” took the shard from the enemy Daisuke’s hand.

“ Non non , you won’t use it on mon ami. Now show yourself!!” Ken (?) tried to reveal the hooded Daisuke’s true identity.

“I thought you would come alone.” The hooded Daisuke said, annoyed by those guests, “Where’s the real Ichijouji Ken?”

“Ah, I’m sorry… You were expecting the original to come?” Then Arsenemon revealed his disguise.

“W-wait… Ken is…” V-mon babbled, concerned “Arsenemon, where is…”

“Can’t ruin surprises, they make the spectacle lose its climax~” he winked.

“I don’t know what you mean, but we have 15 shards of those in possession.”

“T-this is NOT the right time to think about surprises!!”

“Everything will be fine, V-mon,” Hikari said with a gentle tone, “Trust us.”

“Trust y’all…”

“Gigadramon, destroy them!”

“Oh you won’t!!” Miyako gritted her teeth, “Hikari-chan!”

“Right!”

From the Jogress light Aquilamon and Tailmon combined into Silphymon and the digimon flew in Gigadramon’s direction. Silphymon gathered energy in the palm of their hand and shot it against the opponent, who forced himself to take the hit. Gigadramon shot his organic missiles at Silphymon, but oddly they hit each other instead.

“Hmph, pathetic.”

“Pathetic it’s you for shamelessly using another person’s face!” Miyako snapped.

“Stop Gigadramon…” Iori mused, “Don’t tell us that…”

The fake Daisuke smirked. Takeru clenched his fist.

“Hold one second” Arsenemon said, and used the card to teleport V-mon to the group. Then he asked something from the communicator he had on his ear, “V-mon’s safe, folks.”

“Um…” V-mon frowned, “Gigadramon is not Daisuke if you’re thinking about it…”

“Huh!?” Patamon blinked, “He’s not??”

“Then… who is Gigadramon, dagya?!” Armadimon babbled.

Silphymon continued fighting whoever this person-or-digimon-turned-into-the-enemy was. Gigadramon also kept having strange reactions and restricting himself from those attacks.

-- Mot Bomb!!

The tiny Espimon-shaped bombs hit Gigadramon’s next organic missiles, exploding before they hit someone else. It was miss Espimon, trying to locate the shard in the digimon’s body.

“There, Silphymon!!” She showed them the left claw of Gigadramon with a flashlight coming from her eyes, “HIT THERE!!”

“Oh you’re smart,” the fake Daisuke said, “Interesting.”

“DUAL SONIC!!” Silphymon glided in the targeted claw’s direction at super-speed and crashed a shock wave into it. The wave hit it, repelling the gem which was then destroyed by another Mot Bomb .

Gigadramon devolved and then a pair of human and digimon -- A boy and a Gigimon -- started to fall, but Silphymon caught the duo with their arms and then gently landed on the floor.

“!!” Hikari gasped, “Matsuno Takato-kun?!”

“Do you know this kid, Hikari-san?” Iori asked.

“He’s a classmate,” Takeru replied, “He’s friends with Daisuke-kun.”

“HEY, WHERE’S DAISUKE YOU FAKER?! Miyako gritted her teeth.

“... Miyako” V-mon frowned, “He is Daisuke.”

“WHAT?!”

“Oh, are you surprised?” the enemy scoffed, “This only makes things funnier for you all right?”

“Daisuke-kun…??” Hikari was kinda pale by the shock.

“No, you’re not him!” Arsenemon narrowed his eyes at that person who was claiming to be Daisuke. Not his friend. His friend wouldn’t NEVER!!

“But I am, Arsenemon” he smirked, “And now-- huh?”

Arsenemon however, smirked.

“Why are you smilin--”

Then suddenly Ken appeared behind the fake Daisuke, and Immobilized him. Not only that, he also was armed with something that looked like one of Stingmon’s spikes.

“Alright ‘Daisuke’,” Ken said, with his old Digimon Kaiser voice tone, “You might be thinking I didn’t see it coming, but you’re not a mile able to outsmart me at least. WHERE’S IS THE REAL DAISUKE YOU INSECT?!”

“Didn’t you hear V-mon, you idiot!? I’m him! I’m--”

“Then, better me put you out of misery like Daisuke would want me to do in case he just had gone insane.”

“Well then go ahead. I dare you to do that, Ichijouji Ken.”

“Ken, please no!” V-mon babbled in panic, then he looked at Takeru, “Please use HolyAngemon on him… N-now!”

“Huh??” Takeru found that odd, but he knew V-mon had a point, “R-right…!”

Patamon warp evolved into HolyAngemon, and then…

“Holy Disinfection!!”

HolyAngemon quickly used his holy powers to exorcize whatever was happening with Daisuke. It was when something strange left Daisuke’s mouth, a black mist which turned into a form of Matadrmon.

“?!?!?!”

“Argh…!! How did you--?!”

Daisuke was freed and coughed, “UGH, DUDE!! WHY WERE YOU?! HUH WHA-- IT’S HIM! THE DIGIMON WHO ATTACKED ME!!”

“So he had possessed Daisuke…” Armadimon commented.

“Are you okay now?” Ken threw the spike away and put his other hand on Daisuke’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I… I knew y’all would save us.”

“Oh this is getting more and more interesting!” Matadrmon felt delighted, “This round has been won by you, Ichijouji Ken. But the next one…”

“WE WON’T LET YOU ESCAPE!!” The Chosen Children, their digimon, Arsenemon and Espimon said in unison and tried immediately to attack Matadrmon.

But Matadrmon was shielded by the eyepatched Devidramon. And then they saw a human with a mask and hoodie on, at the top of a tree.

“Who??”

The mysterious human threw a smoke bomb (and at the same time a card) on the ground and then the human and the two opponent digimon vanished. Once the smoke effect had vanished, Ken noticed the card and took it.

It said…

Congratulations, you won this time, Ichijouji Ken. The next game might be more entertaining. If you manage to find out the other 15 pieces, I will call cease-and-desist and stop the show. Only if you Play the Game, by the way. ----- Yours sincerely, the Digimon Kaiser.

Ken had to show it to the others, but right now he was afraid of Daisuke and the other two victims’ health conditions. So they decided to take them to Joe as soon as possible.

[geniusbuilttm]

Surp-Rise! Movie 1: Kraang (Snippet)

As a reward for making it to Round 3 in @tmntausummit, here is a snippet from the movie rewrite (yes, it’s all done). You may get another snippet if we get to Round 4 ;3c

Read Surp-Rise! Season 3 on AO3 here

--------

Okay, time to help hack into a spaceship. Mikey peered down at the control panel below them. “There’s that smaller Kraang down there. Brother, I think they called him. How are we gonna get rid of him?”

“No clue, but he’s at what I can only guess is the main console to control the ship,” Donnie said. “Maybe we find some way to distract himmmm.” Mikey was confused as to why the heck Donnie held out that last part of the word until he saw the shadows above them. Donnie grabbed Mikey and they rolled out of the way of one of the ship’s tentacles crushing them.

Mikey cried out in shock, scrambling to his feet and tugging Donnie after him as they dodged the many tentacles around them. From below, Brother Kraang screamed and the face on the wall did the same.

Then Mikey had an idea. “Hey, Donnie! Wanna play some hockey?”

Donnie’s eyes lit up with mischief and chaotic delight as he grabbed his tech bō. “Sports ball sounds lovely right about now.”

Mikey launched himself forwards and retracted into his shell, letting himself skid around the ground. “Go for it!”

He felt himself make contact with Donnie’s tech bō, and he could hear Donnie’s laughter build up. “Fooouuur!” he cheered as he whacked Mikey through the tentacle (ewewewww!) and then towards Brother Kraang.

Mikey let himself spin through the air, letting Donnie’s hit send him flying almost faster than Mikey could with his own chains. He slammed into Brother Kraang and sent him crashing into the wall. The pieces of flesh and tentacles that Brother had been using to attack them crashed down on him. 

“Okay Donnie, do your thing!” Mikey cried, popping out his shell.

“Bravo, Mikey! Cassandra will be so happy to know we used her sports to help save the world.” Donnie ran up and over to Mikey, giving him a high three before he looked over the main console and the controls there. “There's no buttons, or computers or anything. Just a lot of drippy, ooey gooey disgustingness. I don't know how to hack it…”

Mikey looked over the console too and frowned. How the heck was Donnie supposed to do this? He couldn’t figure it out, but his older brother was a heck of a lot smarter than him. He’d figure it out any second now!

“Oh god, I know what I have to do.” Donnie turned away and gagged, holding onto his stomach with one hand and covering his mouth with the other. “No, I don’t think I can do this.”

“What are you talking about?” Wait. No no no no no. There was no way. “Oh no.” Mikey groaned, clutching his stomach. “That’s… So gross!” He had to stop himself from gagging.

Donnie shuddered almost violently. “I can’t do it!”

“I believe in you!”

“No, it’s my worst nightmare,” Donnie groaned, though he looked back over at the panel of writhing tentacles. He took a deep breath and shuddered again as he turned to face it. “I…” His hands trembled but he stood. “God, I better earn the Nobel Peace Prize for this.”

“You deserve it,” Mikey replied seriously, refusing to look away even if every fiber of his being wanted to. He wouldn’t abandon his brother. “You can do it!”

“I’m doing it! I’m doing it!” Donnie laughed out before he stuck his hands into the mass of the console. His body violently shuddered as tentacles began crawling up the arms of Mikey’s brother, drawing him in a little bit by little bit. The tentacles kept climbing as Donnie shut his eyes and bit down on his lower lip. 

They eventually stopped right at his shoulders, wiggling around. “Ugh, this isn’t enough. It's not working! I need more of a connection. Mikey, take off my battle shell.”

“But your shell, it’s soft and vulnerable and—”

From across the control room, Brother Kraang started to stir. Mikey couldn't help but look over at the first sound he heard. "We don't have the time, Mikey!"

Mikey whined and quickly looped his nunchaku around Donnie’s waist and took off his shell. “If you need help, tug. That’s my only condition.”

Donnie nodded as he looked down at the chain around his waist. "Got it. If I tug once, it's me needing help. Twice means you need to let go."

“Deal.” Mikey held Donnie’s battle shell close and stepped back, his nunchaku gripped tightly in his other hand.

After taking a deep breath, Donnie turned around, his back facing the console. He slowly let himself lean back as tentacles reached up. They pressed against his shell before digging in, which made Donnie grimace and shudder. The tentacles reached up and wrapped around his shoulders, arms, and waist, raising him up into the air before suddenly sucking him into the console.

Mikey gasped and turned to face Brother Kraang, not letting go of his nunchaku. Oh god, was Donnie okay? Mikey was helpless without his big brother and no Ninpō. Should he tug Donnie out? 

Just as Brother Kraang seemed ready to shoot out and over to Mikey, tentacles came from out of the wall and wrapped around the alien. Brother Kraang cried out in surprise before he was brought against the wall, restrained. Wait, what?

"Mikey!" He jumped at his name being called until he realized it was Donnie's voice layered with a tech reverb. It was coming from behind though. 

Mikey turned around and gasped as he saw his brother's face form from the matter there. He looked so proud and excited, even if his eyes were pure white instead of real eyes. "I am.... a spaceship!"

Mikey’s expression dropped in shock before he squealed in delight. Ohmigosh, that was so cool!

Donnie looked so proud. "Alright, as coolio as this is, we have a mission. Gonna start putting this thing in reverse and-" 

He cut himself off before Mikey felt two tugs from his chain. "Let go of the chain. Now."

Mikey hesitated before doing as he was told. He didn’t pause for more than a second but that was a second too long.

A thick, slimy tentacle wrapped around his left wrist and his left leg and started tugging him towards the console. Mikey screamed and dug his feet into the ground, dropping his weapons and the battle shell in the process. He struggled but it was no use. “Donnie! Donnie, help!” 

Instead of his brother speaking, Mikey heard distorted screaming. Mikey was able to catch a glimpse to see the head Donnie melt as he was dragged closer and closer to the console despite his best efforts.

The very last thing Mikey saw and heard before being tugged in was Brother Kraang, free from the tentacles, laughing and smirking as he walked over. He rested a tentacle against the back of Mikey's shell and shoved him into the console.

That’s when Mikey knew. This had been a trap, this had been planned, and there was no escape. Even so Mikey tried desperately to reach for Donnie in the console, trying to force his good, not restrained hand to grab his big brother’s. If he could just get to Donnie, just hold his hand, things would be okay somehow.

Through the mass of tentacles and disgustingness, Mikey was able to see Donnie. There! All he had to do was reach a little more forward and then—

Mikey couldn't stop himself from gasping when he saw the tentacles that had dug into Donnie's soft shell open up a spot in the dead center of his shell even further. Multiple tendrils worked, Donnie screamed silently, and something that was a darker, murkier pink plunged itself into his brother's shell before he was lost from Mikey's line of sight. No! NO!

Mikey screamed as he tried to reach uselessly for Donnie. Then his vision started to swim as a blinding pain started in his left arm and leg. Mikey didn’t even try to look, he just kept trying to reach Donnie. He had to get to Donnie, he had to protect his big brother! Mikey couldn’t lose anyone else!

He couldn’t see Donnie when he passed out, but he did feel the faintest brush of his fingers. At least he managed that much.

[kkai-zen]

ᯓ★ oh damn, i feel like a HOTSHOT

──── featuring ITOSHI RIN.

summary: what happens when your famous pro-soccer player boyfriend ITOSHI RIN finds your Tumblr fan account for him?

contents: 18+ nsfw! MDNI. fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!rin, p in v, porn w plot, established relationship, reader nicknames (pretty, pretty girl, pretty thing, good girl), praise, crying, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation

a/n: part of my new series featuring the bllk boys! the series can be found here!

wc: 1.7k

✰ .ᐟ your pro-athlete boyfriend ITOSHI RIN . . .

finds your Tumblr fan account, "itoshi-rins-world," when you accidentally leave Tumblr open on your computer while using the bathroom.

your blog is filled with itoshi rin thirsts!, bf!rin headcannons!, and, of course, itoshi rin smut.

he sees that you’re following a handful of tags with his name, including (but not limited to): #rin itoshi, #rin itoshi x you, #rin itoshi smut

gets flustered reading the downright pornographic posts you’ve written, liked, and reblogged, but also gets cocky.

tries his best not to let it show.

thinks it’s cute how you post about all of his games, stats, and interviews.

moved by the amount of support you've given him since before the you two even started dating.

more motivated than ever and falls in love with you even more.

Strolling back into your bedroom with a stretch, you raise an eyebrow when you see your boyfriend RIN hunched over your desk, scrolling avidly through something on your laptop. A smile curls at your lips seeing him so invested in…you squint at the screen. A Tumblr blog?

“Rin, what are you- ”

Your heart stops in your chest. There’s no way he’s-

“Reading through your Tumblr account.”

He turns to face you with a cool, stony expression, and you’re frozen in the doorway of your room, brain completely shut down. 

“You post a lot on-” Rin starts, but before he can finish, you’re sprinting to your computer, slamming it shut, and collapsing to your knees.

“Oh my god, I- I’m so sorry,” you splutter, a bright red blush erupting over your cheeks as you bury your face in your hands. “I made that account so long ago and I was just a huge fan and y’know, over the years I just- kept up with it, and I- ” you’re rambling on and on, panicking when you look up only to be met with Rin’s stoic expression.

Does he think I’m some crazy fangirl now?! Panicking, a million thoughts rush through your head as you squeeze your eyes shut, missing the faint blush that begins to creep up Rin’s neck. “I’ll delete everything, don’t worry,” you blurt, hesitantly meeting his teal gaze again as you reach for your laptop—but this time, you’re surprised to find an expression of confusion and disbelief painted on his face. 

“Why on Earth would you delete it?”

He stares at you in bewilderment. Huh? You scratch your head. “Well, I mean, I figured it made you uncomfortable…” you mumble, eyes flitting to the floor. Heart thumping against your chest, you wait a few quiet moments for Rin’s reply. 

“Hey, look at me,” Rin eventually murmurs. Face still flushed, you don’t even find the guts to try looking up at him. “Rin, I- ”

“I said, look at me.” 

He grabs your chin and pulls upwards, forcing you to look at him, and oh—

Rin doesn’t think he’s ever seen a sight so tantalizing in his entire life: face flushed crimson, soft lips trembling just the slightest bit, and big, shiny, eyes looking up at him, it’s almost as if you’re begging him to ruin you.

On top of that, the swell of emotions he experienced reading through your blog—filled with hundreds and hundreds of posts about him, following his whole pro-soccer journey—has his heart throbbing and thoughts completely jumbled. He swallows a lump in his throat as he feels his pants tighten. 

Fuck.

“Stand up.” Rin orders, and you stumble to your feet. “Huh? W-wait, Rin, I- mmpf!”

You gasp as his lips suddenly crash into yours, kissing you breathless as his arms wrap around your waist in a vice grip. Sitting you on top of the desk, his slender hands had already slipped your pants off by the time he pulled away from your lips with a gasp. You notice his face is flushed pink with an uncharacteristically urgent look in his eyes.

“Fuck- need you,” Rin groaned, slipping a hand into your pants, elegant fingers dipping down into your panties and finding your already-wet hole. 

“Mm- Rin- ah!” you squeal as he shoves two long digits into your dripping cunt. Biting your lip, you try to stifle your moans when Rin curls his fingers to perfectly catch each of your sensitive spots. 

“Don’t hold back your moans, pretty girl,” Rin breathes into the shell of your ear as he thrusts his fingers into your soft cunt, sending shivers through your body that only amplify the sudden sensation of his thumb rubbing circles on your throbbing clit. Pulling a lewd moan from your throat, you grind your hips desperately against his hand, your cunt pulsing and aching for more friction as you pull him into another bruising kiss. 

“Fuck- can’t believe a pretty girl like you has been a fan of mine for so long,” he pants, chest heaving as you pull away from his mouth, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck. “Always knew y’had good taste,” he grunts, nipping at your collarbone. 

The wet sound of Rin’s fingers in your sloppy cunt is so obscene and has you whimpering in need, bucking your hips against him in a frenzy. “A-ah! R-Rin, keep- going- mmm- !” You whine, throwing your head back as he scissors his fingers deliciously inside of you, the sensation tightening the burning coil in your core. “C’mon, pretty thing,” Rin growls. “I know you’re close…go on and cum for me.” 

“O-ooh, ffuuuck!~” Crying out in ecstasy, your vision grows hazy as Rin’s husky voice tips you over the edge. You can feel yourself clenching around his fingers, nails digging red crescents into the taut muscles of his back. “Fuck, pretty, you’re clamping down on me so nicely,” Rin whispers, a smirk gracing his features.

Gasping for breath, you see Rin drag his tongue effortlessly across his fingers —the fingers that were just inside you— and you feel arousal pooling in your core again.

“R-Rin,” you stutter, but you barely have time to catch your breath before he rips your top off, pulling your bra down to expose your breasts, where your nipples are perked up and begging for attention. Still smirking, he dips his head down and lets his tongue glide over the curves of your chest, teasing your nipples before latching his mouth onto one and rolling the other between his nimble fingers. “A-aah, no- Rin, I’m still- s-sensitive!” You squeak, nails scraping against the wood of your desk, drool slipping out of the corner of your open, panting mouth. “Sensitive?” He arches an eyebrow. “I didn’t even touch you here earlier. Besides, isn’t this what you want?” Rin huffs out a chuckle between licks, his mind rushing back to absolute filth you’ve written about him. 

And of course, he’s right; you’ve fantasized about him railing you senseless for so long that this barely feels real. “Rin-nie! Just- ah! Just f-fuck me already!” You whine, back arching as he tweaks your other nipple between his skillful fingers. His eyes narrow, and all of a sudden you find yourself bent over the desk, legs spread and sopping wet hole in his full view. 

“Since when did you give orders around here?” He snaps, and you yelp when you feel the sting of his palm meet the soft flesh of your ass. “Just shut up and be a good girl f’me,” Rin hisses, grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing harshly. You let out a wanton moan, shifting your hips from side to side in desperation. 

When you hear Rin’s pants slip onto the floor behind you, you can’t help but steal a glance, twisting your head back to see him lining his rock-hard cock up with your soaking entrance. 

Cunt quivering with arousal, you swallow in anticipation just looking at his dick, standing tall and thick against his toned abs, pearly beads of precum decorating his angry red tip. He bends over you, his broad muscular chest flush against your back, and purrs into your ear, “You ready, pretty girl?” 

You nod helplessly, grinding back against him in desire. “M’ready, Rinnie,” you whisper, breath hitching.

And fuck, the moment Rin starts pushing his tip into you, you see stars dance in the corners of your vision. The stretch of his fat cock was suffocating, and your jaw drops open with soundless whines as he tries to slowly ease his throbbing length into your velvet walls, inch by inch.

But your sloppy, creamy cunt feels too good, Rin decides. “Fuck, can’t take this anymore,” he grunts, and with one brutal thrust, buries himself balls deep into your drooling heat. You squeal, shuddering with pleasure as your weeping cunt adjusts to his cock, twitching violently inside your snug, soft walls. “Ri-innie, ooh, fu-fuck, you feel- s-so, so goo-od!” you moan, tears pricking at your eyes as Rin’s cock starts to thrust in and out of you at an unforgiving pace, kissing your cervix with each snap of his hips.

“Tight lil’ pussy so- fuckin’- warm and wet f’me,” Rin snarls, speeding up his thrusts. You whine, pushing your hips into him as his cock rearranges your insides, arousal dripping down your thighs in sinful pearls. “Love gettin’ fucked stupid on my cock, huh? Nasty fuckin’ girl.” and you whine in response; hearing the stoic, ice-cold Itoshi Rin spew such filth from his mouth was nothing less than intoxicating. 

His heavy balls smack against your clit with each lewd thrust, moans spilling from your lips as the tense knot in your core tightens unbearably. “Riii-innie, I- I’m about to- ah, fuuuuuck!!” You sob, writhing under him, vision going white as your orgasm slams into you, knocking you breathless as your slick squirts over Rin’s cock.

“G-good girl, cumming for me so well-” Rin groans, hips still pounding against the fat of your ass in a punishing rhythm, ripping screams from your throat as his balls slap your overstimulated clit again and again.

And finally, after what feels like a lifetime of fucking you dumb on his dick, you hear Rin pant out a “Fuck!”, throwing his head back as his thick, warm seed paints your throbbing cunt white. Your overstimulated body trembles with pleasure, tears sliding down your face as your pussy flutters around his twitching cock, still spurting ropes of hot cum into you.

His hips stutter to a halt as you gasp for air, and you can feel his heavy breathing on the back of your neck as his cum overflows and spills out from your abused hole. You both bathe in the afterglow of the moment, sweat and slick and cum cooling on your burning skin, before your legs promptly give up on you. You would’ve fallen straight to the ground if Rin hadn’t caught you by the waist, his strong, warm arms wrapping around you and lifting you effortlessly into a princess carry. 

“Mm…Rinnie…” you murmur, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“Hm?”

“You really enjoyed reading my blog, huh?”

“…maybe.”

[perfectionts-virgo]

ELIJAH MATTHEWS

Walking into the sliding door seeing patients waiting for their names to be called or walking out the sliding doors...

Making my way to the locker room... putting my backpack in my locker turned to see one my good friend, Amina, half African & half Arabian, standing with a smirk on her face.

"Spill" I said fitting my scrubs

"Okay the date was nice but he like a typical fuck boy" she replied rolling her eyes

"Well at least you know now than later" I said while we walked out the locker room

We walking down the hall seeing my other half "Makayla" half Nigerian & Half Trinidadian behind the desk typing on the computer looking up

"Hey hoes" she said with a smirk, moving her bang

"Heyy" Amina replied making her way behind the desk

taking a seat

"Hi stink" I said with smile

"Let me tell y'all about the date" she said rolling her

eyes

"Spill" Amina replied

"Let me tell you what this niggas was a catfish plus  he was broke" she said with blank face

Me and Amina burst out laughing when our other friend Devion walked up the desk with a confused face just staring at us

"What happened?" He asked looking at Makayla back to us

"I'm telling them about my date" she said with even more attitude making us laugh harder

"Was it that bad ?" He asked again looking at me

"I was CATFISH!" she replied aloud making some clients start look at our way

"Damn niggas are weird" he said shaking his head grabbing paper work

"Tell me about it" she replied going back to typing

Before I open my mouth here come bunch of paramedics rushing in with a boy I can't really see but the doctor William rush to me...

"Come on Matthews it time" he said speed walking next to him

"What happened?" I asked walking in the surgery room washing my hands

"He been shot in the stomach and left shoulder and was in a car crash" he replied putting on his gloves

I hope he okay

( Hours Later )

Walking in the lobby seeing three people start standing up walking my way...

"Hi we're here for Mr. Hughley" a girl said with a worry look on her face

"How's is he ?" A asked looking at me for a answer

"He just got out of surgery" looking at them "he doing fine but he need some rest"

They both At each other with a smile

"Thank you so much bro" the guy said looking at me with a smile

"Thanks" the girl said walking to the other guy on the phone

He walked his way to us

"You said he out of surgery ?" He asked looked at me

"Yes sir" I answered look at them

"Thank y'all so much to save my cousin life" he said with a genuine smile

"We'll my name is Marje" she said with a smile

"Usher" he said

"Nigel I'm mr.hughley cousin" typing on his phone "thank you for giving us information"

"No problem" I said with a smile making my way behind the desk

........................TWO DAYS LATER........................

"Anyway I did went to a second date with him" shaking her head "he a broke ass nigga"

"Kayla that's your fault at this point" devion replied with a blank face

"Damn" Amina said chuckling

"Well you seen the signs on the first date" I said looking thru paper work

"Damn I thought y'all will be comforting me" kayla said looking at us

We start laughing

"Aww poor stink" Amina said before being interrupted by doctor Williams

"Can I grab Matthews for a minute?" He asked

"It's okay" got up from the seat "is there anything wrong ?"

We kept walking to Mr.Knight office seeing him typing away... finally looking up

"Y'all can sit down" he said

"Okay mr.knight I feel" he look at me " Mr.Matthew should be paid leave

(Wait huh ?)

"What happening?" I said looking at them both

"That's exactly what I was calling you in" he said nodding his head

(Wow)

"I'm getting fired?" I asked looking at mr.knight

"No you're going to be paid to help mr.hughley with recovery" he answered

"Okay thanks" I said

"Because you the second person who went to school for sports medicine " he said making dr.Williams nod

"What happened with bryon ?" I asked

"Bad reviews " he answered

"Okay thank you so much I will not disappoint" I said getting up from the chair

"I know you won't" he begin typing "you start today"

(I start today )

"Okay thanks"I said walking out the office

(30 minutes)

I can't believe you're leaving us " Amina said with a pout

"I know but duty calls" I replied giving her a hug

"I'm so proud of you" kayla with a huge smile

"Me too bro make that money" devion said doing our hand shake

........................ An Hour Later...........................

Making my way to his penthouse with the emergency rolling him behind me... finally stop in front of his front door...

Opening the door it was huge was an understatement it was a mansion on air...

(Damn)

Making my way to the guess it was like a second master bedroom... with a white bedding with grey detailing..

"Okay Matthew we gone" Henry said walking the door

"Bye" I said walking out he room

"We gone" tryese turned looking at me " call us for

anything we got you"

Nodding my head walking him out the door, closing it behind him and made my way to hughley room.. see him laying on the bed watching espn..

"Hi my name Elijah Matthews I'm your rehab nurse" seeing him looking at me " so I live in with you and I get paid off to be here so if you got questions I'm hear to answer them"

"I got a question" he said turning his head making himself hiss from the pain

"Yeah ?" I said looking at him

"You sure I'm going to back on the court ?" He said

"Of course" I replied looking at him

He for sure feel familiar

"And another" he looked at me up and down "was you at the gas stations talking to oh girl ?"

I quickly looked up at him, it was him the boy that kept looking at me... it's a small world

"Yeah it was me" I said looked at the tv

"How was you're sister dinner ?" He asked making turn to face him

"It was cool" I answered

"It was but why the girl was at my bro house ?" He said with a smirk

"Okay okay I was saving her ass from y'all" shaking my head feel ashamed "you know how scary being a female with you niggas out"

"Damn shame not all niggas" he said

"You one of those" I said side eyeing him

"What that supposed to me ?" He asked

"You figure it out" I said

Making my way out

"You got a smart ass mouth" he said

"You going to do something about it...cripple?" I asked looking at him

He just sat there shook

"I don't think so" I said continue walking

.............................four Week...............................

Well his name is "Noah Hughley" second year rookie of Atlanta Hawks...He start walking good.. working out wonderful and even doing well on court.

And he actually nice guy, he was the nigga that made it out the hood... following his dream of being a nba superstar.

"Noah dinner ready" I said done fixing his plate

"Thanks" he said sitting down

Continue making my plate, walking to the dining room table..

"It's your turn to say grace" I said looking at him

..........................15 minutes later..........................

"Is there a new season?" He asked looking at me

"There's no more seasons it was canceled" I answered looking at him rolling his eyes

"Damn moesha pregnant and Miles is missing" he said shaking his head

I chuckled

"Yeah tragic" I said looking at his side profile

(His tall skinny ass is fine)

"We'll you ready to start sister sister ?" I asked looking at him

"Yeah let me use the bathroom" he said getting up from the couch walking to the guess bathroom

"I got a question for you" I said looking at him sitting down

"Spill" he said turn facing me with tv play softly

"You don't mind me wear more comfortable clothing?" I asked he looked at me with a duh Expression

"Why wouldn't I ?" He asked looking at me

"We'll sometimes I get to comfortable" I said looking back at the tv feeling him kept staring at me

"Oh you like that then" he said kept staring at me with a smirk sizing me up and down

"Boy don't do to much" I said side eyeing him

"Or what ?" He asked

"I'm not playing with you" I said turning up the volume

"I know you didn't turn up the volume" he said looking at me crazy

"And did and what you going to do about" I said til I felt his big Tatted hand grab my neck turn to face him

"Don't get that I'm healing fool you I'm with the shits" looking thru my soul "don't get it twisted okay"

"Yes I got it" I said getting lost with his eyes

"You getting out of control with that smart ass mouth" he squeeze little bit " but don't worry about it next time you'll see"

He let me go, making me get up from the couch walking to the guess closing the door behind me.. letting out a breath that I been holding on..

Damn that was sexy...