#hyper-console

[morganthyper]

M - More Than Survive (Be More Chill)

O - Old Records (The Black Suits)

R - rises the moon (Liana Flores)

G - Goin' Viral (Dear Evan Hansen)

A - Ammonia (Joe Iconis)

N - Not Your Seed (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals)

tags: uhh. idk man anyone who sees this can do it sure :3

MOOT / TAG GAME !

mission— spell your real name / name you use on tumblr with songs you like >< ready, set, go !

m — my love, mine all mine (mitski)

i — i love you, i’m sorry (gracie abrams)

c — coraline (lyn lapid)

k — killshot (magdalena bay)

i — i know you (faye webster)

e — either way (ive)

tagging— @puma-riki @flwrstqr @liwinly @woniefication @lilificationn @stvrriki @okwonyo + anyone else who wants to join !

[morganthyper]

my favorite jeremy heere outfit SPECIFICALLY is from the off-broadway run press performances. aka this

something about it so appealing to me?? the longer hair, the glasses, the flannel and shirt?? somehow i imagine this is how both off-broadway!jeremy and a bit of what book!jeremy look like. it fits his personality in these versions a lot

i also love will roland's performance in this video. it's genuine and relatable at the same time, his chemistry with george as acting partners is so seen here, and his character work is amazing. love off-broadway

[ratcandy]

literallyso embarrassing having to tell nurses yeah I have a horrible phobia of needles i can faint from it . yeah you have to talk to me during it or i will have a panic attack. yeah no you can't count down. no i can't watch it happen either. do not let me look at it . please keep talking to me if you stop for any length of time i will go insane. yes i have gotten blood work done 1 million times . no i'm not normal about it sorry.

[z2z-gaming-and-random-art-ai]

Console Fighting Games of 2004 - Street Fighter Anniversary Edition

Street Fighter Anniversary Collection celebrates 15 years of the iconic Street Fighter franchise with a robust compilation for fans and newcomers alike. This release includes Hyper Street Fighter II: The Anniversary Edition, which combines all versions of characters from Street Fighter II, allowing players to pit different iterations against each other. It also features Street Fighter III: 3rd Strike, renowned for its deep mechanics, fluid animation, and competitive gameplay. Additionally, the package includes Street Fighter II: The Animated Movie, giving fans a cinematic dive into the series' lore.

With modes for single and multiplayer, this collection offers hours of classic fighting action on PlayStation 2 and Xbox. Whether you're revisiting the franchise or exploring it for the first time, Street Fighter: Anniversary Collection provides a definitive experience that celebrates the legacy of one of gaming's most influential fighting series. #fightinggames #gaming #streetfighter

1. Intro 00:00 2. Gameplay 00:15 3. Outro 07:58

Thanks For Watching.

Don't forget to like or dislike, share all are very helpful and subscribe for more Video Game related videos and shorts.

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For more fighting game videos check out the playlists below

Console Fighting Games of 1993 https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CFcKSo9Eglrv2NFDHAqNDRi

Console Fighting Games of 1994 https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CF-R5w4NujQcYo8cCcOMHYv

Console Fighting Games of 1995 https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CEUiZn8FlwHoMcwoOzUqchX

Console Fighting Games of 1996 https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CF0j9K_v7UqS3dxjwh6XIIM

Console Fighting Games of 1997 https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CFm1r27Q5PvbO_4CjYYsj4-

Console Fighting Games of 1998 https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CHG7kROLoO-HAXmmzib8cd4

Console Fighting Games of 1999 https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CH1CPUcsBRyu5VpFnhqj4Kv

Console Fighting Games of 2000 https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CFeqy-o99iichpNC_2TAs2w

Console Fighting Games of 2001 https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CEZIx8SjucuQMt0zBP_wzwS

Console Fighting Games of 2002 https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CH1zIfh7MMdVHyj51B2gaVa

Console Fighting Games of 2003 https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CF33jf5s-Q-jR1sYOSKaikn

Console Fighting Games of 2004 https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CGPwNCCJNFLAX425u--y7V6

[morganthyper]

Big part of my writing of them;

Jeremy, due to having been friends with Michael for many years and his home being kind of like a second home to him, has picked up on the culture in the household. An example of this is Jeremy calling Michael's moms "Tita" or "Tiya" (as in Aunt)

NAME HCS: Ysabelle Mell - Tita Ysa (or just Tita) by Jeremy Dahlia Mell - Tiya Lia (or just Tiya) by Jeremy

** It's just special to me as a Filipino who also calls my best friend's parents that :3

Be More Chill fandom, what are some of your unpopular headcanons

I'm really curious to see some of you all's wildest takes

[chonker-chan]

wake up babe, they masseffectified dragon age again

[tonyzaret]

ANNOUNCEMENT: I NO LONGER SHIP FRARNEY (Fred / Barney)

So I'll be honest. When I first got into the Flintstones fandom, I was incredibly young and naive. (For starters, I thought the show featured documentary footage of real cavemen, dinosaurs and prehistoric technology.) But over the years, as I got deeper into not just the series lore but also the behind-the-scenes aspects of the production, I began to realize that it was a just a cheaply animated knock-off of The Honeymooners and all the storylines were nothing more than stock mid-century sitcom plots mixed in with puns on the word 'stone.' The writers, tasked with churning out 30-episode seasons of childish drivel, would not have had the bandwidth to craft hidden messages to the show's audience about a secret love between two crudely drawn Neanderthals. Furthermore, as I began to question the validity of my once-cherished ship, I found myself under attack by increasingly toxic 'Dark Frarnies' who review-bombed my earlier fanfics into oblivion. The fact is, while shipping Fred and Barney may have brought me joy during a dark time in my life (I had recently been exiled from the Jetsons fandom for what was, in retrospect, a misguided pairing of Rosie the Robot and Astro the Dog) I just don't feel at home in the Frarney community anymore. And while it may be bittersweet to say goodbye, at least I can still find consolation in my folder with over 10,000 hyper-realistic, anatomically correct Scrooggi (Scrooge McDuck x Yogi Bear) drawings.

[transvisions]

I thinkthe only npc romance that should be added to balgurs gape is raphael but only if its extremely difficult to near impossible available on Honour Mode NG +2 . You should have to fight for pussy. .

[morganthyper]

me joining the bmc fandom in 2025: awh why is the fandom dead?? this musical is so good :(( *it peaked in 2019 and i missed everything*

jokes aside very happy theres still a lot of you out there that enjoys this silly lil slime tutorial as well as interacted with my art of it too. you guys seem so cool !!!

[thatlesbiancrow]

just saw someone say nintendo wouldn't make their next console backwards compatible because it's bad business like... buddy.. most of their systems have backwards compatibility.

[em1i2a3]

HII!! i’ve never really done an ask before, eeek! uhm i keep thinking about how the air that i breathe by the hollies is sooo bob. so i was thinking maybe a fluff based off of your interpretation of the song?

The Air That I Breathe

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x Thunderbolts!Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Bob have a comfortable night on the couch.

Warnings: None, just pure fluff y’all, we love fluff in this house lol

Author’s Note: Loving these requests! I liked the idea of writing something based on a song someone else requested! I also love the song as well, so I’m glad someone requested it! Thank you for messaging me and submitting it! Hope y’all enjoy!

Word Count: 3,474

Bob always came to you in silence–never asking, or needing to–like your presence was the only place he could remember how to breathe.

The most opportune time to do this was during the night, when the compound always fell into a strange, unnatural kind of stillness–something that should’ve been rare for a place that inhabited seven people and a cat.

It wasn’t peaceful though. There were too many walls that remembered shouting, and too many doorways that had been passed through with blood still drying on boots. But some spaces–specifically the ones you inhabited or settled in–held something different, something warm, lived-in and safe for someone like Bob.

The common room was dim that night, lit only by a single soft lamp in the corner. The flickering light casted amber warmth across the battered floor and uneven throw rug, its fringe curled from too many feet dragging over it over and over again. The main light switches had been left untouched, which was the way everyone tended to leave the room at night–it was an unspoken agreement that anything brighter would feel too artificial, and would hurt their eyes.

It smelled faintly of overly buttered popcorn, and hot chocolate–the lingering ghosts of whatever Yelena and Alexei had been snacking on before their bickering laughter faded down the hall an hour ago. There were mismatched throw pillows half-tilted on the couch, a Thunderbolts hoodie draped over the back of an armchair, and a half-empty soda can precariously balanced on the edge of the coffee table. Someone had forgotten to turn off the console controller–its faint blue glow blinked lazily beside a mess of crinkled wrappers and a half-finished bag of a variety of sour gummy candy.

You were stretched across the couch like Alpine in a sunbeam, legs tangled in the too-long hem of your own sweatpants, one hand holding the remote as you flipped through channels with no real interest. You were just trying to seek out some background noise. A sitcom laugh track, clicked into a cooking show, then a rerun of some old space movie. You weren’t watching so much as resting inside the rhythm of the flickering screen.

Your own snacks were scattered across the coffee table–a bowl of chips gone mostly stale because someone left the bag open, a mug of Ceylon Gold tea you kept meaning to reheat, and a stack of napkins that you had just in case you made a mess. You told yourself you’d clean everything up in the morning. But for now, you just wanted quiet.

And that’s when you felt it.

The shift in the air, the subtle, unmistakable awareness. Not the tense electricity of an approaching threat��but the soft static hum of Bob. You didn’t look up right away, because you never really needed to. Your training made you hyper aware of your surroundings, so even if it wasn’t Bob and it was just. a regular old intruder–which would not be the case–they wouldn’t really stand a chance.

You let your voice float out into the common room, quiet but certain, “You okay?” There was an immediate pause, then the hush of his footsteps over the rug–careful and soft.

“I can never s-sneak up on you to s-save my life,” Bob murmured, voice low, filled with fondness. You smiled to yourself, before peeking over the back of the couch.

There he was–half-silhouetted in the dim safety lights that lined the hallway, soft and rumpled in the way that only someone comfortable could be. He wore a loose, oatmeal-coloured sweater that hung nicely on his broad frame–even though it hid his body very well. The sleeves were pushed up slightly, exposing the strong but gentle veins of his wrists and hands. His sweatpants were charcoal gray, slung low on his hips, the drawstring left loose. He looked good. Not fully put-together, but soft around the edges, his light brown hair tousled and curling slightly at the ends like he’d towel-dried it but never bothered to brush it out. There were faint smudges of exhaustion painted under his eyes, but it didn’t dim the quiet kind of brightness he always carried when he was near you.

He looked like he needed rest, not sleep.

You tilted your head against the armrest, eyes warm, “That’s because your footsteps give you away, you’ve got an odd shuffle and rhythm to your steps. Might as well give yourself a megaphone to announce yourself.” Bob gave a soft huff of a laugh, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck.

”T-That bad, huh?” You shook your head.

”Nope,” You responded, shifting yourself up the armrest a bit to make room for him in the subtle way you always did, “That familiar.” You added, correcting him.

That seemed to hit Bob somewhere tender, and his eyes seemed to soften even further, crossing the room without another word. You watched as he moved through the dim light, past the cluttered coffee table, being careful not to disturb a single thing–like he didn’t want to risk breaking the quiet rhythm of your space.

As soon as Bob reached the couch, you shifted instinctively. Your body moved with the ease of routine–pulling your knees up just enough to let him ease down into that familiar spot between your legs, right where he always settled. You lifted the blanket and let it fall gently over the two of you, your legs bracketing his hips while he lowered himself with a long, quiet exhale.

The back of his head pressed against your chest with practiced familiarity, as his entire body settled into the spot you had created for him countless times. You brought your arm around him without a word, your hand settling flat across the center of his chest–right where his heart always raced a little faster when you touched him. The other slipped into his hair immediately, combing through the soft light brown locks, smooth from the dampness that kissed them. The moment your nails scraped gently across his scalp, Bob let out a sound that was barely a breath, a complete embodiment of relief, all encompassed in a simple sound.

He melted beneath your hands, and his body softened against yours. You felt him reach down to hold your shin, his thumb dragging slowly over your silky flesh, grounding lines across the bone like he couldn’t stop himself from touching you–even if it was a quiet gesture, even if it was small.

You dipped your head slightly and kissed the side of his neck, just beneath the curve of his jaw, then again, just a little lower–gentle, and unhurried like you had all the time in the world to love him the only way you knew how.

“I was h-hoping you were gonna come to m-my room tonight,” He said after a moment, voice low, almost shy. It came out between one of your passes through his hair. You smiled against the skin of his neck.

”Well, I was going to finish watching something, then I was gonna pay you a visit.” You explained.

“Could’ve t-told me…I would’ve come here sooner instead of w-worrying and thinking I-I did something wrong.” You kissed him again, this time closer to his ear.

”You know I always end up in your bed somehow…And if you did something wrong I would let you know immediately.” He let out a soft, fond breath through his nose.

”This is true…T-Though sometimes I end up in your bed…”You nodded.

”Yeah that’s happened a few times,” You teased, fingers curling gently through his hair again, smoothing the locks down against his neck, “I wake up and suddenly you’re at my door, dragging your whole blanket with you like a sleepy cryptid.” Bob let out a soft hum, the kind of sound that came from deep inside his chest–content, unguarded. His body shifted slightly against you, nuzzling closer into you, like he was trying to disappear into your body.

You smoothed your hand over his chest once more, slipping down to the hem of his sweater to find the warmth of his skin. He didn’t flinch at the contact, he never did with you, though his breath hitched slightly, before steadying a few seconds later–like your touch sucked him into your rhythm.

That was the thing about you and Bob. You were together, and everyone knew that. It didn’t need to be defined or declared or shouted from the rooftops. There was no public claim, no ‘soft launches,’ because there didn’t need to be. Because Bob revolved around you like you were the sun and the moon and the space in between.

And in your own quiet, steady way–you revolved around him too.

You weren’t loud about it. You didn’t have to be. You showed your love and care for each other in your own ways. You showed it in how you saved him the last of your tea, even when you wanted to finish the entire pot. He showed it in how he brought you your favourite socks when your feet got cold, or how you took the time to sew any of his sweaters back together where the stitching had frayed from his nervous picking. He carried your bags without being asked, and you ran your fingers through his hair every time he settled between your legs like this–like you were his home, gravity and oxygen all encompassed in a body.

People could see it.

They saw it in the way Bob looked at you like nothing else existed in the room. In the way his voice softened when he said your name, like he was daydreaming about you constantly, and in the way he would hand over his heart, his peace, and his soul for you without hesitation, even though he already had, repeatedly.

Yelena had once muttered under her breath that the two of you shared one brain cell and one heartbeat, which was an accurate representation of how important the both of you were to each other.

Bob’s thumb continued its slow path along your shin, tracing a pattern only he seemed to know. A map, maybe–one he’d memorized without meaning to. You were still brushing your fingers through his hair, slow and rhythmic, and the moment you leaned down to kiss the side of his neck again, you felt the way his breath caught in his chest, as he cleared his throat a little, like there was a lump forming in it.

He shifted just enough so he could tilt his head back, eyes angled toward the ceiling like he was thinking too hard, or working up to something. You knew that look very well, so you waited for him to talk.

When he finally decided to start speaking, his voice was quieter than usual–thick with something tender and just a little unsure, “Do you…Do you ever think a-about what it’d be like if things were…Y’know, d-different?” You tipped your head down a bit, your lips brushing his temple.

”Different how?” The muscles of his stomach tightened and twitched beneath your touch as you traced a small square on his skin.

”Like…I-If we weren’t doing this whole…Thunderbolts thing…If w-we had time to breathe. Time to just…” He hesitated, then let out a breathy laugh, embarrassed by the sheer softness of it, “Get married…And stuff.” You raised your eyebrows at the way he casually dropped the word ‘married’ so easily, even though it shouldn’t have surprised you one bit–it still hit you hard right in the chest. You let out a sigh, trailing your kisses down to his neck again, slowly.

”You wanna marry me, Bob?” You asked gently, your breath tickling the shell of his ear. He could hear the smile forming on the words, and he replied immediately.

”I’ve wanted t-to since the first time I saw y-you.” Your hand stilled in his hair. He wasn’t joking, and you could feel it in the way his whole body tensed up slightly, and in the way his hand squeezed your leg.

”You didn’t know me then,” You whispered, nipping at his earlobe to give him a bit of a jolt. He let out a nervous laugh, and shifted against you again, his head turning to the side so he could see you.

Even in the dim light, his eyes burned like candle lit oceans–deep and quiet and startlingly blue. Not just one shade, but every possible one layered like secrets: pale frost near the center, ringed with a darker rim of indigo that made them seem impossibly vast. You could’ve drowned in them and not minded at all. There was something raw in the way they looked at you–like he wasn’t just seeing you, but eteching you into his brain. Like every breath you took bent the tide of something inside him.

“I know,” He replied, “But w-when I looked at you, I knew you w-were going to wreck me.” You smirked, feeling your heart pounding against your chest.

”Wreck you, huh?” He huffed again, as your arm tightened around him.

”I-I don’t mean it like that. I-I mean…The kind of wreck where you just change e-everything. Where s-someone walks into your life, and s-suddenly your whole world shifts, and everything y-you thought mattered stops mattering. I-It all just centers around them…” You could feel heat creeping up on your cheeks, “That’s what y-you were,” He continued, voice low and sincere, “You walked in l=like you didn’t even know what you were doing…And I thought–o-oh, there you are. There’s the r-rest of my life.” You took in a shaky breath, untangling your hand from his hair so you could gently cradle his neck, giving him the softest kiss you could muster.

It barely felt like pressure–more like a secret passed between breaths. It wasn’t rushed or rough, it was close. Your nose brushed his cheek as your lips moved together, slow and searching, and when he exhaled against your skin–shaky, sweet, desperate in the way only Bob Reynolds could be–it felt like your entire chest lit up.

He kissed you back with that same trembling care, one of his hands still resting on your shin, the other hovering just slightly over your thigh that was pressed against the couch, like he didn’t know where to touch without worship. His lips parted against yours, chasing you when you pulled back just an inch to breathe.

“I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking,” You whispered, your thumb grazing the line of his jaw, “If I had, maybe I would’ve made things a little easier for you when you were trying to ask me out.” Bob’s cheeks flushed deeply, his neck blooming a light pink.

”D-Don’t remind me of those d-days, I-I always thought I was on the brink of c-collapse when you looked at me.” You laughed–soft and sudden, causing Bob to let out a small groan.

But then, without warning, he shifted–carefully turning in your arms until he was facing you fully. The movement wasn’t graceful. His long limbs tangled with yours, one knee catching on the blanket and nearly dragging it off the couch. You snorted out a laugh as he fumbled, nearly knocking your half-full mug of cold tea off the edge of the table.

”Careful, Bob,” You teased, voice caught between a giggle and a gasp as he braced himself with a hand near your ribs, “You look like you’re gonna drop off the couch if you make one wrong move.” You could feel him rest his other hand by your hip, his body hovering over yours. His weight dipped the cushions just enough to shift you both deeper into the well-worn couch, and he huffed softly as he tried to arrange himself without squashing you.

”I-I’m trying to be graceful here.” He muttered with all the pouty indignation of a man who absolutely knew he wasn’t. You smirked, as you slipped your hands up the back of his sweater, fingertips grazing the expanse of warm skin.

”Yeah, you’re about as graceful as a bull in a china shop.” Bob let out a laugh–low and bright, that boyish sound that made your stomach flip. It crinkled the corners of his eyes and brought a fresh flush to his cheeks, one you felt bloom under your palms as you dragged them up the ridges of his muscles.

“C’mon,” He chuckled, dipping his head to nuzzle into your neck, his breath tickling your skin, “T-That’s pretty unfair…A bull at least h-has four legs to balance on.” You raised your eyebrows.

”And you’ve got two very long, very clumsy ones,” You shot back, your grin wide now as your wraps wrapped loosely around his waist, anchoring him where he belonged, “I’m just waiting for the day you trip over your own feet and Sentry slams a hole through the wall trying to keep you safe.” He groaned dramatically, lowering himself slowly so his chest pressed to yours, his heartbeat thrumming into you.

”N-Not my fault I’m built like a walking c-coat rack,” He mumbled into your shoulder.

”No, it’s not…But I love you this way regardless.” Bob didn’t say anything back immediately, he just laid there, slowly melting into you with every breath. You felt it in the way his muscles eased, in the way his hand slipped from bracing to resting–flat against your ribs like he needed to feel the rise and fall of your breathing. His other hand smoothed along your hip, curling into the fabric of your sweatpants like he couldn’t help himself.

And then he shifted just enough to kiss you again–slow and soft.

When he pulled back, his gaze was clearer now, blue and bare and honest. He reached up, pushed a stray bit of hair from your face with trembling reverence, and murmured, “I-If I had a ring, I’d give i-it to you tonight.” Your heart was thudding now–not fast, but deep, like a bell tolling softly in your ribs.

You searched his face. There was no hesitation there. No nerves, no fear. Just Bob. Warm and open and golden, stretched out above you like a man who had found the only place he ever wanted to be.

So you slipped one of your hands out from beneath his shirt, and reached up to cup his cheek, brushing your thumb gently beneath the soft blue of his eye.

“You don’t need a ring,” You whispered. “You’ve already given me everything I need.” Bob leaned into your palm, like the weight of your touch was the only thing he trusted. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, lashes brushing against the skin of your thumb like feathers, and when he opened them again, they shimmered with something unspeakably soft.

“I s-still want to g-give you one,” He whispered, voice so low you almost missed it, “Even if you don’t need it. Even if we never have the time…I–I want you to have something to wear…S-Something that says you’re truly mine.” He added, gulping down the nerves that filled his throat, “I mean…You’ve always b-been, but…” His sentence trailed off, and his confidence flickered. You could see in his eyes that he was being dead serious, and all the feelings that were stacked high for you began to topple and unravel. So you kissed him again.

Not urgently, not possessively–just long and lingering, a kiss that said I know and I’m not going anywhere. His mouth parted against yours with a softness that undid you, with a sigh that tasted like devotion.

When you pulled back just enough to breathe, your forehead resting against his, you whispered, “We’ll make time for it…If that’s what you really want to do.”

That made his lips twitch into the smallest smile. Not his usual nervous, bashful one–but the kind that came from deep inside his chest. The kind that cracked through the walls he still sometimes tried to hold up. The kind that only you got to see. His hand squeezed your waist gently, before drifting up towards your ribs, fingers splaying gently over the cotton of your shirt. His palm settled beneath the swell of your chest, not in a way that asked for more, but in a way that just held.

”I-I do…With my whole heart…”

[shadowkoo]

Almost Home

→ Summary: Your boyfriend looks extra yummy when he's in the driver seat, which tends to turn you into a feral, needy animal.

↠ wooyoung x f.reader | 712 words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, pwp, established relationship

→ Warnings: roadhead, oral (male receiving), ball squeezing, teasing, slightly bratty!reader, cock choking & cock swallowing if you squint lol, praise kink, slight exhibitionism & voyeurism, i think that’s it but let me know if i missed something

→ Networks: @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @pirateeznet @othersideoutlawsnetwork

→ Author Note: just a quick drabble bc i have a looooot of thoughts about the photos woo has been sharing lately ugh, not edited either so yeah...enjoy

⋆˙⟡ m.list ⟡⋆⟡ ao3 ⟡⋆⟡ wips ⟡⋆⟡ updates ⟡⋆⟡ shadow realm ⟡˙⋆

“We’re surrounded by other vehicles right now, you can’t wait?” Wooyoung exasperates, exhaling a breath as your hands slide up his thigh.

“Just drive faster so no one sees me face first in your lap. It’ll be fine,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“But we’ll be home soon,” he points out lamely, trying to distract you - and himself.

You can’t wait though, he looks almost too good. There’s just something about the way he sits in the driver’s seat, exuding confidence and control, both of which have heat pooling in your center. It's the way he owns the space, completely in charge, and it’s making you lose your mind.

“Let me suck you off, please?” you whine. “I’ve missed you, all of you. Especially your pretty dick. I know it missed me too.” You lean over the center console of his car to kiss his neck, letting your hand dip in between his legs to cup his package. He hisses at the initial contact, then melts into your touch. He secretly loves it when you praise any part of him, even if you use the word pretty in the same sentence.

“Baby,” he groans, tipping back against the headrest and swallowing hard.

“I’ll stop if you really want me to,” you say, massaging him through his pants.

“Fuck,” he grips the steering wheel tighter while increasing speed, “Don’t you dare stop.”

Dipping into his pants after undoing them, you free his hardening length from the layers of fabric. You’re mesmerized by the little beads of pre-cum that spill out of his angry tip. Using your thumb, you smear them across his velvety flesh before immediately taking him in your mouth. The head of his length alone is enough to fill your mouth.

Wooyoung’s body stiffens from the sudden contact, and he might have accidentally swerved into the other lane, just for a second, when your teeth graze along the underside of his heavy head.

Christ.

Removing your mouth from him, you kiss every inch of his thickening length, effectively teasing him until more pre-cum leaks from his small hole.

His body reacts with another shudder when your other hand goes lower to cup his balls, your palm tightening around them when you leave another feather-light kiss on the very tip top of his member just to drive him crazy.

“You’re such a brat. Stop teasing and start choking on my cock already,” he grumbles, using his free hand to shove your face back down.

You comply, wrapping your hand around his girth and lowering your mouth around him. Mmm, you definitely missed this.

Hollowing your cheeks, you take him in further and further until your sputtering along his length.

Wooyoung loves the way your mouth stretches to take all of him. If he wasn’t so hyper focused on not crashing the car, he’d fuck the hell out of your mouth right now. He’ll make time for that later, you know, once you make it home.

Coming up for air, you grin toward your boyfriend while a string of saliva falls from your mouth. “I swear I’ll never get enough of this, enough of you,” you moan.

Wooyoung watches intently as you take in his full length again, only breaking eye contact when he needs to check the road.

“Look at you, you’re unreal. Do you know that?” He says, his eyes burning into yours as he looks down at you again. He rubs a fallen piece of hair out of your face. “Just gorgeous.”

His words make your panties wetter than they already are and you squeeze your legs together for some kind of relief.

You continue to play with his balls as you hum around him while he’s deep in your throat, a move you’ve learned that will send him spiraling right over the edge.

A few seconds later, his hips jerk and he twitches inside you. His hot, seedy release shoots down the back of your throat while he lets out the most delicious moan you’ve ever heard.

“Mmm,” you say, licking your lips once you pull yourself off him. “That was fun. Now take me home and dick me down properly as a thank you.”

He shakes his head, the corners of his lips curling into a smile, “As you wish.”

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[xlettex]

Kenma’s not sure why he let Kuroo drag him out today.

He doesn’t need more games. Doesn’t want to be recognized. And definitely doesn’t want to watch Kuroo charm every employee in a ten-mile radius. But then they step into the store, and it’s quiet. Cool. Bright but not harsh. A bubble of calm.

And you’re at the register—sorting trade-ins, humming to yourself. You look up when the door chimes. “Hi! Let me know if you need help finding anything.”

That’s it. No double-take. No flushed gasp. No, “Wait, are you—?” Just… normal. Kenma exhales. Relieved. And maybe a little stunned.

Because you’re pretty. Insanely pretty.

Your hair falls messily around your face, but it suits you. There’s a pen tucked behind your ear. Your eyes shone when you spoke. And the enamel pins on your apron—small, colorful characters from games he knows—make his chest feel weirdly full.

Kenma is immediately, irreversibly doomed.

Kuroo leans in, whispering way too loudly, “Wow. A whole thirty seconds and no one’s mobbed you. It’s a miracle.”

Kenma shoves him with a sigh, trying not to fidget.

You raise an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Mobbed? What, are you famous or something?”

Kenma mumbles, “No.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Uh-huh. Sure. Mysterious hoodie guy with a bodyguard and a fear of crowds—totally normal.”

Kenma doesn’t say anything. Just stands there, mildly panicked and already hyper-aware of the way your smile curls at the edges.

You ease off a little, still smiling. “So... you looking for something specific, or just here to be cryptic?”

He shrugs, awkward. “Not really.”

You round the counter and gesture toward the shelves. “Well, we just got a few new arrivals. Depends on what you’re into.”

Kuroo snorts under his breath. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” he murmurs, clearly entertained, and drifts off toward the keychain rack.

You walk with Kenma, asking about mechanics and story preference. He answers in short bursts, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket. He keeps glancing at you and then away, as if he doesn’t trust himself to look too long. And every time you laugh, it knocks the breath out of him a little—something in his chest stutters, just for a second, then settles somewhere it shouldn’t.

He knows these games already. Owns most of them. But the way you talk about them—with love, and that kind of careful attention people don’t fake—has him pretending he’s never even touched a console. Just so you’ll keep talking.

“Since you like JRPGs, you should check this one out,” you say, holding it out. “It’s underrated. Surprising depth. And the bonus content is kinda hard to find unless you know where to look.”

Kenma takes it. He already has two copies—digital and collector’s edition. Played it on stream. Reviewed it. Recommended it to all his followers.

But your fingers brush his for half a second, and his entire internal system does a soft reset.

So yeah. He’s buying it anyway.

At checkout, you ring it up with a smile, slip the receipt into the case, and push it across the counter. “Enjoy. And hey—if you ever want a recommendation again, you know where to find me.”

Kenma nods, barely. His fingers tighten around the case—delicate, almost hesitant. He doesn’t look at Kuroo until they’re back in the car.

Kuroo’s already snickering. “You bought a game you already own?”

Kenma flips open the case, muttering, “Shut up.” Then he sees it—scrawled lightly on the bottom of the receipt in looping pen:

You seemed sweet. Here’s my number in case you ever wanna talk games :) xxx-xxx-xxxx ♡ 

He stares at it, stunned. His chest feels warm, weird, and good in a way he didn’t expect.

Kuroo leans over, reads it, and lets out an unholy sound. “Oh my god, you’re blushing,” he crows, grinning widely. “This might actually be the best day of my life.”

Kenma groans into his hoodie sleeve. “I hate you.” Kuroo laughs all the way home.

Kenma’s still holding the receipt. He’ll deny it later. But that night, he tucks it behind the frame of his second monitor, so it’s visible from where he streams. Then he opens his contacts and saves your number under Pretty Game Store Employee.

[prokopetz]

While I agree that most modern games could stand to be better optimised, you need to understand that the kind of batshit hyper-optimisation you see in pre-2000s console games was really only possible because the programmers could safely assume that everyone everywhere was using exactly the same hardware. Trying to pull that shit in the context of modern PC games is how we end up with games that will only reliably run on one specific brand of video card.

[morganthyper]

It's out it's out it's out!!!!! Please go check it out, I've been working on Chapter 1 for quite some time now and I think it turned out awesome!

Beta read by the amazing @k1zzez :3

No Need to Contemplate

"—how deeply that you're afraid... cause your life is a waning moon."

A Victimless Crime: Chapter 1

Summary:

Jeremy Heere and Michael Mell arrive at Hatchetfield and immediately feel discouraged. Well, Jeremy does. Michael is just Michael.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66076648/chapters/170280988

[z2z-gaming-and-random-art-ai]

Console Fighting Games of 1996 - Part 2/7 🤜🕹️🤛

Console fighting games released in 1996, this second part features Breakers, Dragon Ball Z Hyper Dimension, Dragon Ball Z Idainaru Dragon Ball Densetsu, Fight for Life, Fighters Megamix, Galaxy Fight Universal Warriors and Genei Tōgi Shadow Struggle.

For the Full Length Videos of these games see the following playlist https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CF0j9K_v7UqS3dxjwh6XIIM

For other Gaming related shorts check out this playlist https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CF5oVPNNxPlLJPambfM5BIj