#reblogs to this account bc i still love it
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im gonna start posting fanfic recs btw whenever i find good ones. both here and my (awfully barren) 18+ account. because there are so many good fics out there with so few hits and fewer kudos and sometimes no comments period and it SUCKS because i REALLY LIKE THEM A LOT.. and i hope that by linking them here and yelling at everyone to COMMENT DAMMIT they might actually do it
seriously though any comment means a lot. most people who read a fic don’t even give a kudos. even if the fic wasn’t top tier, if you didn’t dislike it, hand over some kudos!! and if you liked it, comment!!!! even if the comment is one singular heart emoji it will be appreciated. if the comment just says “great fic!” the author will be happy. your comment doesn’t have to be this long winded gushing or analysis.
so many authors quit writing or lose motivation because the comments are few and far in between or just sometimes nonexistent. trust me when i say authors don’t care about how long or cool or smart sounding your comment is i promise!!!
i hope that mmmaybe recommending fics and telling people to comment might help fics i really like get more support maybe. and i, points at you reading this, hope that you will listen!!!at least a little….at least sum kudos….
#if u have the ability to reply to my reblog saying how much you loved the fic i recommended comment on the fic itself so the author can see!#especially since the rise of ai writing and seeing ai fics out there can be disheartening#make sure you let your writers know you appreciate them#you never know they might one day write a sequel bc your comment touched them#or might get the motivation to make more works.#(but don’t just comment bc you expect something out of it btw. sometimes the author might be too intimidated to reply ive seen that before)#im a huge yapper. if you can’t tell. lmfao.#and i mostly comment on guest. like 99% of the time because the fics are either really embarrassing#or i get nervous about them knowing me/finding my tumblr and thinking im cringw#bc i admire authors so much. and I get that nervousness! given I experience it!!! but guest mode EXISTS!!! most work allows you to comment#on guest mode!! the author CANT see the email you use for it!!! the only reason they even ask is to give you notifs if theres a reply to it!#a comment is still a comment even if on guest or an alt or your main#even if the fic is embarrassing shameful depraved smut you can log out and comment on guest. even if it’s embarrassing#because the author still worked HARD. it’s so hard to write. people don’t give enough credit to fic authors who do it for free#i had an account (now super abandoned) that had over 400k words. and that didn’t include wips#i reallg do struggle to write because i took a break for so long!!! i can write but not nearly as much as I used to!!! and it sucks!!!#support your authors guys. 1k words is an hour for the first draft at MINIMUM and another hour for revision and editing. and people get#pissy if a fic chapter is less than 3-4k words for some reason. that’s 6-8 hours of work at MINIMUM. likely so much more because there’s#also plotting and brainstorming and So. Much. Editing. stressing out over words and sentence structure. it takes so much time out of your#day. the only oneshot i have posted on this account is 2460 words. and it took me SEVEN HOURS#seven hours!!!! that’s a lot!!!! and for authors that have school or demanding jobs that kind of time is hard to come by!!!!!#and I hope i have convinced at least one of you to listen and go okay you know what. i will. because even if it’s a silly comment it’s loved#tldr support your local fanfic authors of you will be so stabbed. by me#fanfiction#fanfic#archive of our own#ao3#comment on fics#wick fic recs#that’s the rec tag btw. wow custom tags AGAIN i know. im doing what i thought i never would
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The sadness I feel when I try to find an old piece of art only to discover the original artists either disactivated their account or deleted the art but at the same time having to acknowledge that the art was made by the artists and shouldn't it be ultimately up to them if they no longer want that art to exist on the Internet
#tho also#one of the reasons i love tumblr#if the artist did delete their account or work#but i still have it reblogged / liked then it wont disappear from my likes / account#unlike some other social media#but yeah#thinking about this bc obviously rewatching fmab#and remembered this art i saw years ago#and wanted to try and find it again#only to see the account has been deactivated#which obviously made me sad#but also started me thinking about art and the Internet#and how even if you wanted to delete your art#itd still be out there#just a bit harder to find now
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Tag Navigation and Intro
Hi!! It's @kissingwalls (this is not a side blog though)
Tags:
Year
year: 2010, year: 2011, year: 2012, year: 2013, year: 2014, year: 2015, year: 2016, year: 2017, year: 2018, year: 2019, year: 2020
Blogs
blog: repsol-ariel
blog: marquez93-blog
blog: sicar26
blog: motoleafs
blog: aleixespargargo
blog: mototwinkclub
blog: porfuera93
Rider
Marc Marquez
Alex Marquez
Jorge Lorenzo
Dani Pedrosa
Valentino Rossi
Enea Bastianini
Maverick Viñales
Fabio Quartaro
Aleix Espargaro
Pol Espargaro
Alex Rins
Miguel Oliveira
Tito Rabat
Uccio Salucci
Pecco Bagnaia
Casey Stoner
Luca Marini
Andrea Dovizioso
Franco Morbidelli
Andrea Migno
Cal Crutchlow
Jorge Martin
Fabio Di Giannantonio
Joan Mir
Rider filtered by year
To find the rider's posts from a specific year, type their initials, rider number, a colon, a space, and then the year into the search bar. For example mm93: 2013 (there are a couple of people I haven't done this for, so check their main tag first)
Here are a few common ones :) (i would put them all but the link limit is humbling me)
Vale:
vr46: 2013
vr46: 2014
vr46: 2015
vr46: 2016
Dani:
dp26: 2011
dp26: 2012
dp26: 2013
dp26: 2014
dp26: 2015
Jorge L:
jl99: 2011
jl99: 2012
jl99: 2013
jl99: 2014
jl99: 2015
Marc:
mm93: 2012
mm93: 2013
mm93: 2014
mm93: 2015
mm93: 2016
Ships (romantic/ platonic/ familial)
Some of these are just people who are together a lot.
pedrenzo
rosquez
team tiny
vr26 riders academy
Jorge/Pecco
Marquez brothers
espargabros
Vale/Uccio
lucalex
dovquez
Organisation
moto2
moto3
Press Conference
bikes: year (eg. bikes: 2015)
the ranch
Format
type: gif
type: picture
type: writing
type: video
type: fanart
type: quote
Circuit
misano
motegi
mugello
assen
phillip island
san marino
argentina
brno
catalunya
portugal
cota
qatar
le mans
aragón
valencia
silverstone
sepang
laguna seca
indy
mandalika
chang
red bull ring
Circuit with year
You can also search by circuit: year (eg. catalunya: 2015). Just make sure you put a space after the colon. Unless the post said where it was though, I did not put a location tag.
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Intro:
(i'll just put it at the bottom so i remember to delete it)
I have been hoarding all of these (there are like 1000 more in my draft and queue lol) for a while now in my draft bc even tho they are like 3 note gifs, they are historical artefacts to meeee.
Anyway, I've got a cold, and so to occupy myself, I decided to just make a blog so that everything can be organised and easy (ish, this is tumblr after all) to find!
I know heaps of my fellow ✨motogp tumblrinas ✨have made archives for their favs, and you are all braver than me, bc I would lose all the gifs immediately if I tried to create new archival posts. So I just reblogged everything and am going to hope for the best in terms of copyright lol
But yeah, these aren't just my favs. This is more just a snapshot of the fandom at different periods. I only reblogged the deactivated ones, but, y'all, use the posts as little gateways to blogs from that time period, it is FACINATING.
As always, peer review is welcome! If i completely messed up a tag (very likely, since i used the mass tag editor), you're welcome to let me know. Also if there's a ship tag, fun tag or something you want me to add in the mass tag editor, lemme know! more than happy to add literally anything ✨✨
I only started this today, so it's very much a work in progress! All the things without a link are because the posts that match up with them are in the queue. I also need to add the ones i forgot
#there is an updated version of this in my pinned#motogp#tag navigation#it just made me sad seeing all of the gifs from 2012 just chilling on abandoned accounts with no tags#pack bonded to the deactivated posts#also the sociology minor in me LOVES lurking around old forums and blogs#like seeing how people reacted towards things and what was popular 15 years ago??? i'm sat i'm writing notes#also soooo devo that i can't yap on all of these posts bc it will mess up the tagging system :((#edit: it's been 2 days and i've started yapping on the posts but i think??? it should be fine#I mean I can just reblog the funny stuff on normal account and yap but still#repsol-ariel#motogpblr#motogp gifs
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Have I made both mha and sonic fans and the ones who follow me just bc my silly brain decided that I must talk about what I think at all times, happy today. Are we fed. Did I doom scroll enough for you all.
You make me sick.
Pls stay I have not stopped making metas I’m just depressed and scared. This goes for anons as well I’m so sorry I haven’t checked my ask box
#do y’all wanna know how many drafts I have#it’s a lot#it’s over 100 at this point#mayhaps the izuku misogyny meta will happen. one day.#I also have thoughts on eggman but I’m not sonic fan enough to talk about that yet#and I’m thinking about totk again. does anyone still care about that? because I do. I never stopped thinking about era of the wilds.#like that’s where I’m at I want to be a general fandom account so badly because at the end of the day I’m autistic#and I started this account bc I was getting too autistic and too much about mha#so I started talking here#but now mha is… ended. and it’s been ended. and it’s not entirely over. we still have sketches sometimes and season 8 to look forward to#but it’s not going to be those semi weekly updates anymore. what is left to analyze is what exists.#and I’d love to talk about those things. mha will probably always be my special interest. it’ll probably remain the one constant in all of-#my art and writing and personality and world view and morals. forever. it will be apart of me forever#but I think unless I start posting about my analysis of various BkDk fanfic on here (which would require posting what I READ. EW.#I won’t say I’ll run out of things to talk about but I won’t be saying anything of importance anymore yk?#I try to generally only post what I think is interesting and original now.#and you can only do so much of that with ONE MANGA.. yk?#anyway#maybe y’all will get into what I like from now on bc I’m kind of tired of being too afraid to reblog other stuff#and making random sideblogs Willy Nilly#my cringe is being posted HERE and NOW
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it's been a hot minute since I've drawn this silly fellow
the process i used is much more different than what i'm used to, but i quite like it!
#its crazy to think that I've finally posted a colored drawing that isn't a wip. that's bcs I haven't.#this is still a wip/ref#anyone who's seen my reblogs about MB on my main account know that I am crazy for him#he's so silly#i love him#look at him#i love him sm#my art#digital art#art#digital drawing#mime bomb#carmen sandiego#carmen sandeigo 2019#mime bomb carmen sandiego#mime bomb fanart#fanart#— Mo-art!.
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i think i’m gonna just post my art on here bc i don’t plan on reblogging a ton anyways
I ALSO DUNNO. WHAT ALL DO I POST? the last time i posted art on tumblr was way back in 2015!!!! i think
do i play catch-up? or do i just post some most recents???? the thing abt catch-up is. is i’ve had two laptops since then and i don’t have everything on my new one and i’m foolish and don’t have it on an external either
so i :) would have to boot up my shitty laptop that takes nine years to wake up
okay u know what i’m not even gonna overthink it. i’ll just post the decent stuff that’s on my current laptop and if i feel like dealing w the Brick then i will deal w the Brick later
#txt#i have a reblog blog i set up years ago for this account but it needs tlc#i love to just write all my thoughts out as i have them that’s never changed#i’m thinking abt this bc i was just looking at old posts from 2011 and i was so GODDAMN ANNOYING#but then i was like wait i still do the thing where i ramble abt nothing
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Ghee you’re account funny asf 🤣🤭
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TY!!!!!!!!!!!!@🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🥰🥰‼️‼️
#IM GLAD U ENJOY MY LIL SILLIES !!!!!#ive been worried abt my VAST decrease of tag writing lately#these mood slumps or highs are NOT helping my 'FUCK IT. JUST POST. REBLOG WITH MORE TO SAY LATER'#and then i never reblog bcs im busy posting smthin new that caught my eye#ive been mad busy tho so im hoping the chatting can find an increase later ...#BUT IM RLLY HAPPY YALL ARE STILL ENJOYIN N SHIT#ive gotten worried that im starting that twitter shit where my account suddenly gets big n i just post to post#until i eventually get tired of tired posting and abandon it for a new smaller thing to build up#n then THAT blows up n the cycle continues#BUT!!@!@!! i love what i post here and what ppl have to say in return#or think#n i think ive been posting without tags so much to speedup the reblog process bcs i just wanna hear what my moots have to say on it#now that i have more of them and im not thinking alone on this subject#BUT THAT DOESNT MEAN IM DONE CHITCHATTIN CUS I LOOOVE CHITCHATTIN#just gotta be in that mood n timing rn i feel#BUT AGAIN thank u🥰🥰#i appreciate the love ALWAYS#love my funky lil ted tumblings#ted tumbunity things#HAVE A BLESSED NIGHT
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I HAVE FOUND A SOLUTION TO MY ISSUE WITH MAKING A REFERENCE SKETCH FOR MY DEAR NARRY (tsp) DESIGN. context: I could not FOR THE LIFE OF ME make a reference sketch, like, an introductory sketch, since I wanted to show off the design I'd been working on BEFORE actually making stuff with him. BUT for the life of me I couldn't make a good one DIGITALLY. so while doodling a "reference" esc sketch i was like "wait. I can just take a photo of this." anyways I'm happy now bc I can FINALLY start getting on with my dear Narrator design
#simon says#ALSO planning on making a seperate TSP blog for TSP art but I'll post what the acc is if y'all would like to follow#bc I just realize I like it when I don't have a mixed like. reach#like I love reblogging what I like to my main blog( this one)#BUT#i rather have seperate places interacting with my art? like yk?#since I already dislike myself for becoming one of the blogs where its just mish-mashed art and reblogs#so!!#that!!#but I'll reblog some of my art from that account and still post DBH art to this acc#and like normal art that isnt fandom related#even though I dont usually post that#or have ever posted that#ANYWAYS#yeah that!!
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tbh the when do you consider a mutual a friend thing reminds me like. how we both follow each other n stuff and like. I absolutely send you stuff sometimes n we had such fun interactions n to me you are one of my fav people off of tumblr but I'm not even sure if you remember them or me or if you even know like, who I am at all, like I hope at least like I'm a cool little guy on your dash, and I know I'm making it worse by being on anon but feeling cringe about it does this to me, especially something else I've been doing w you which honestly just makes it fit more....... man it's been a while with that too... how is that time loop?
you are a cool little guy on my dash !! if i am being real a lot of my memory is just. vibe-based? like i'll vaguely recognize profile pictures and sometimes remember events and maybe names. i love the time loop its been a bit but its been fun so far
#i also have the mortal flaw of following Too Many accounts. that does not stop me from following more bc i love seeing things i love#interacting with things even if its just liking reblogging and putting a bunch of stuff in the tags#i read this a while ago while i was hanging out with my brother and i still havent really thought of exactly what i want to say in response#like obviously ''i do Not remember much about anyone i interact with'' is a bit harsh. but i will say i also only vaguely remember my#friends. like if i want to do genuine analysis (def a love language) i absolutely have to have a wiki or something or write down defining#characteristics and work off of that#but in that line of thought i also hate treating people like characters in my life even if that makes it easier for me to remember details#about them . put them in the fandom wikia of my Life in my Brain .#thats a bit too venty i am very dramatic about my memory though i know i can easily recall things if i just#try for a minute or so
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Hi, a mutual who shall remain nameless here. I just read your tags on on the inner Mongolian child post. And like. I dunno how to say this, but that took me by surprise, cause I was so sure you were older than me... and I am 33 years old lol. Guess I was wiping l wrong 🙈
no i totally get it omg i’ve got the Elderly Problems like woodhouse (specifically s1e2 11:55) ‘my knees’ but also my hips .. my back … my assbole but im older than u anyway <3 my child
#asked#anonymous#ALSKALSKLAKSLAKSLAKSLA#it’s like it begets the question ‘WHY 😭😭’#but no it’s …. it’s fair#ALSKALKSLAKSLAKSLAKSKAKLSLA#i’m a Mess#i love anons bc this could literally not even be a mutual like literally anyone could just say that#but#also i follow more than 1500 ppl i think so a mutual could Truly Be Anyone & i love that abt me#BUT I KNOW SOME OF YALL#u know#parasocially#i don’t trust tumblr so i don’t send messages here u gotta get me elsewhere ALSKALSKALKSLAKSLAKSLAKSA#like i know tumblr reads all them 😭😭😭#i still think of everyone as my children but also it’s kinda insane like when u die now the internet is essentially forever#like u will literally just always be able to access a dead persons accounts or postings whatever as long as the host is available#so like if the person is anonymous u know it’s just ‘they disappeared one day’ or if like instagram u know usually they will have like ‘rip#miss u so much’ etc things on some posts correlating to a death#but it’s like. hmm. do i want myself to be that available ? for a public memorial to be there ? regardless of possible intractability ? i#don’t know#it’s kinda like ‘do u want to be apart of ur own remembrance ?’ not as like ‘do u remember them as a person ?’ but i mean like do u want to#be remembered at all ?#like countless people have died but not all are totally remembered. sure drawings or a child’s homework here the individual but they’re just#otherwise known as ‘1million people lived in this city at this time period’ & that’s it#but now the internet is so personal it’s so ingrained in daily life#how do u want to be perceived or how do u want people to have the ability to perceive u once u have died ? u know what i mean ?#i guess this kinda just stems from i saw this fundraiser weeks ago about an artist in gaza literally doing her e-painting while the planes#were overhead but then it just stopped - her posting - like i had gone to her twitter before i got to the bottom like the latest addition to#reblog & her posting just stopped. so i went back & found out she died. this was weeks ago now but still
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#e
Extraordinary You: Writer as God and Masterlist
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“The fact that this is a world of comics. Depending on what the writer intends, this romance comic can suddenly turn into a dreadful one. Even main characters can become extras in the blink of an eye.” - Lee Do Hwa
EoY or July Found By Chance, is a show where Eun Dan Oh finds out that she’s living in the world of comics, as an extra with a terminal illness. She, with the help of Haru, a nameless extra, decides to change her fate, and ultimately the story they live in, for the better.
While the show’s set-up itself is amazing, it doesn’t stop there. The comic book world extends as a metaphor for our real world. It portrays the Writer of the comic as an all-knowing all-seeing entity like God, and asks-- if our world was, as monotheistic religions believe, controlled by a God, can we really change our predestined fates?
As the story progresses, the show plays more with the concepts, asking us-- can we really win against an omniscient entity? If our actions and motivations were created by the entity, are our feelings real? Are our motivations real? Can we escape the curse of History? Can we break free from the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth? And, most importantly, is our fate important enough to risk our very existence?
While I’ve seen metas that explored the show partly, I haven’t seen a full analysis anywhere, so, despite the fact that it ended a while ago, I’ll be doing a full series on this show.
This is the Masterlist Post for all of them, which I’ll keep on updating as I write more. (you can reblog if you want to be tagged in further posts!)
Worldbuilding and Themes in EOY
Free Will and how “Trumpet Creeper” reinforces it.
Eun Dan Oh: Changing Her Fate
Haru: Love Is A Revolution
Baek Kyung: The Writer’s Stand-In
Yeo JuDa- The Wildcard
Shoes Over Flowers: The Subtext of these two
Three Romances and Three Fates
The Brilliance of the Ending and the Show’s Message
Theories Part 1- Self Awareness
Theories Part 2- Trumpet Creeper a BL?
Link to EoY Discord Server
Fanart part 1 part 2
#extraordinary you#extraordinary you spoilers#july found by chance#extraordinary you meta#i just rewatched this show#bc of lovely runner (im on a kim hyeyoon binge atm)#& i discovered this person’s theories and im loving it#perfect to read along a rewatch#honestly i forgot how much i loved this show until i rewatched it#i think i posted a lot on my main account before i moved my kdrama content to this side log#but i was OBSESSED with this show & still am to an extent#but tbh i suck at tagging since i usually do quick reblogs of posts
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Am caught in a death spiral my lieges. I don't feel entitled to anyone's time, effort or resources but I feel so beat down. I am disabled, I am working so much I genuinely developed a hunched back. I am alone responsible for my autistic sister, her parentified sibling, and my two parents who are disabled with extremely limited movement. I have three jobs. I can't ask for help on twitter because people I work for follow me there. My work requires me to draw every day, without a day off, ever. I have a "morality clause" which means if I or the author I work with are deemed to be acting in any way the company thinks inappropriate, we are immediately fired and would have to return every single cent we have made. I feel at my wits end. My employers are american- but I am not. I live in the global south- government assistance in the Philippines is *nonexistent*
Last week I asked for help to pay for electricity. The other week I asked for help with my sister who had to be rushed to the ER.
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I doxxed myself and posted medical info to this blog, so many strangers know my address, my legal name, everything just for me to be able to seek mutual aid- Wallah I do not want to be this person, but if anyone could please, pick up a print from my inprnt, or subscribe to my patreon, I already have 300+ drawings up there and I upload thrice to four times a month, or if you could send direct tips it would make a world's difference. I will try to open commissions next week but as the world is being plunged into wherever it is we are headed, it's getting harder and harder to get clients.
Currently myself dealing with housing insecurity- we only have a year or two to fix our traditional filipino house as it is falling apart due to the philippine storms and termites- *please* help me and my disabled family of three. I feel I am rambling now bc there's so much on my mind, on my plate, I've asked friends and my partner for help, my sister and my cousins and my friends are all I have. My mom's side of the family cannot help as they are all extremely poor themselves, and my paternal side of the family have emotionally abused me and have members that committed routine csa on me. I do not take any of the help I receive here for granted, and I'm sorry. Reblogs are off as I am asking for help from followers as I feel very ashamed / embarrassed/ humiliated to still be stuck in this dark place . Sorry and thank you again
Inprnt is having a sale rn, everything is like at 40% off!
And my tipping jars:
Sorry and thank you again. If you can't donate or purchase its OK, just please please please include me in your prayers, make mi shebeirach for my health so I csn continue to work, or any prayers at all for me. Thank you
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liberating myself by posting things so late at night like lol. these are my secret posts except they're not secret
#rando thoughtz#idk theres just some things i make that i want to have on my accounts#but also i know they will flop or i just dont want the post to blow up#so i just purposely post them at the worst times so i dont bother with trying to get user engagement with my stuff or whatever#also love the reblog privileges toggle for similiar reasons#though sometimes i still get BRO WHY DID U TURN OF RBS THIS IS COOL#its an unfinished vid and i dont want that to be the version of the project that spreads in case i ever do finish it <3#i typically do just use that rb toggle for things that are unfinished really#and also posts that would be weird to rb bc they required so much context#or just a degree too personal to apply to anyone else who sees it off my blog#NOT. THAT IT STOPS PPL FROM RBING POSTS LIKE THAT WHEN I THINK#''nah i dont need to turn off rbs for this im sure nobodys a weird enough to rb it anyway'' and then im proven fucking wrong#otherwise late time posting is my secret posting hours#so i dont have to feel self conscious abt posting my weirder(?) work or feel obligated to be ''marketable'' for engagement & shit like that
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@ iluvmygf - nishimura riki x fem!reader
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description: nishimura riki is a headache to his managers. as much as he loves being an idol and as much as he loves that he gets the freedom to travel. he hates that he can’t show you off. publicly… as himself… so he makes a twitter account called @ iluvmygf at first not a lot of people follow it. it goes unnoticed, for a few weeks. until it doesn’t. his account about you goes viral… and people are nosy as to who loves their gf so much to constantly post about her.
genre: romcom, crack, humor, something fun and lighthearted like a hallmark movie. it’s also set from november-february bc i said so and i want a christmas ark 😋🫶 this is an smau
warnings: cursing, most likely crude humor, probably kms jokes
START DATE: november 11th. 23
profiles: ur an idiot x 7 // non twitter users losers
teaser
ch. 1… you have an account abt me?
ch. 2… she ate shit :/
ch. 3… i miss my gf
ch. 4… OMG GUYS IM VIRAL 😁
ch. 5… oh im viral 😨
ch. 6... so, i am viral... do you still love me? (written)
ch. 7... doofus
ch. 8... SOMEONE CALL MR BIG HIT
ch. 9... pls come over
ch. 10... WTF EXPOSED AS TWT USER ?
EPILOGUE
extra- ????
taglist- closed the end
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comment, dm, send an ask, or reblog to be added :) i try to keep up with tag lists however i get a ton of notifications everyday so please lmk if i forget you
PLEASE only ask via comment to be on taglist on the masterlist chapter, or teaser
#nishimura riki#nishimura riki imagines#nishimura riki x reader#enhypen#enha#enhypen imagines#enha imagines#nishimura riki texts#nishimura riki smau#enha smau#enhypen smau#nishimura riki scenarios#enhypen nishimura riki#riki nishimura#jungwon imagines#heeseung imagines#jay park imagines#jake sim imagines#sunghoon imagines#sunoo imagines#riki x reader#jungwon smau#heeseung smau#enhypen texts#enha texts#jay park smau#jake sim smau#smau#kpop smau#sunghoon smau
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Update on the Phineas Gage situation this is the greatest moment of my life
Do you…Do you guys think Scott Cawthon knows what a frontal lobe is? Do you guys know what the frontal lobe is? Because I feel like some people don’t know how much brain that is.
Like holy shit (Brain facts below the cut)
Okay hi welcome to brain facts. So the fascinating thing about human brains is that the basic stuff is in the brain stem and towards the back of the brain, so things like breathing, digestion, and other stuff you do without thinking about it are all back there. The more complex stuff is in the front. Your frontal lobe in particular controls your speech (in an area called Broca’s area I think), motor function and personality. Less severe damage can result in lack of social awareness or increased impulsivity. But we aren’t talking about “less severe” damage so let’s get to the good stuff.
In the 1840s sometime, a man named Phineas Gage had a giant ass metal pole blown (with some sort of explosive gunpowder) through his head (entering under his cheek and exiting the top of his head) and survived. I don’t really think I can do justice how insane this is, but google it if you want to see a photo of a guy holding a rod that went through his head and a couple recreations of it. Gage was alive after this, and was mostly fine except for he had severe personality changes and intense epileptic seizures. What I’m getting at with this is that because the rod shot through his frontal lobe (FNaF reference) he was fine and actually survived about 13 years (just with the personality of an asshole) before he died of a seizure.
A lobotomy was an extremely popular practice in the 1950s that was intended to cure mental illness. Of course nobody knew what was going on back then so really sometimes they were just “curing” like hysteria or melancholy or whatever. The procedure, in its most popular form, involved sticking an ice pick up through a patient’s eye socket and just scrambling their brains (The frontal lobe) with it (extremely simplified). This often resulted in severe damage to their motor and speech skills, their personality, their thinking, etc. But it did make most people easier to deal with, so that’s good I guess. Arguably the most famous lobotomy patient (victim) is Rosemary Kennedy, JFK’s sister.
Okay, this is a FNaF account actually. So I’d like to call attention to a couple things Phone Guy says in reference to the Bite of ‘87. He says that Jeremy survived “without a frontal lobe” which is completely wild but like…probably possible? However it would lead to like total paralysis and complete inability to form coherent thoughts. And while in The Week Before, Ralph does say something about him “not talking anymore. Or doing much else.” And everyone does act like it’s a completely wild thing that he survived (which it is) but I feel like we should probably chalk “without” up to hyperbole, though you don’t have to if you don’t want to.
But even with it still like…partially intact some symptoms of severe injury to that big chunk of your brain are: short-term memory loss, loss of motor (both gross and fine) and speech skills, completely disorganized behavior and thinking, intense personality changes, creating false memories (confabulation, which sounds like a word I made up but it’s not) and probably the wildest one called anosogonia, which is where you just don’t realize that something is wrong with you (or the extent of it)
All this to say: nothing, really. I just really wanted to talk about this.
#i’m glad mr. gage liked the post where i compared his accidental workplace lobotomy to fnaf#that’s still a good tag I’m keeping it#Phineas do you regularly browse stuff related to FNaF just read about accidental-lobotomies#It was so surreal going to this account and seeing that this happens to other people too#like the post I just reblogged#but like Phineas Gage acknowledged meeeeeee <3#I think I like brain damage cases a little too much#but then again-Phineas Gage#I tried explaining how great and funny this was to my sister but she didn’t understand#I’m surrounded by haters…:(#also this post is getting more attention now and I’m glad bc I love sharing my brain facts
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sweetdreams - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader
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summary: Aching for some release, Nicholas finds himself browsing a cam site and stops dead when he recognizes a familiar bedroom on one of the thumbnails.
warnings: 18+, camgirl, masturbation, exhibitionism
required listening: n/a
word count: 6,195
a/n: eek, I've been sitting on this one for a bit - I'm not even sure why. but I like it, it was fun to write LMAO also rip TikTok. I deleted the app over a year ago bc it destroyed my brain but ik lots of ppl still love that app so rip I guess. anyway lmk if you liked this one! I have a few more fics but idkkkk
reblogs, likes, and replies are greatly appreciated and let me know if you'd like to see more!
The glow of my laptop screen on the bed illuminated the cozy pale purple walls of my bedroom. The fairy lights hanging along the fabric draping the backside of my bed added a soft warmth to the otherwise dimly lit space with a few tapered candles here and there on my nightstand and dresser to set the mood. I adjusted the camera perched on the tripod next to my desk, angling it toward my bed where the sheets were already perfectly rumpled by design.
I didn't do it because I needed the money. I always paid my bills on time — rent, utilities, student loans, cellphone, gas, insurance, and groceries — but my entire paycheck would go to just that. And no matter how much I tried to break up my checks or stagger payment dates, the same thing always happened: I never had enough money to splurge on myself. I wanted the money. So bad.
There were so many things I wanted to buy for myself, so many trips and concerts and restaurants I wanted to be able to experience, but I never could, not unless I saved up the little leftover money I’d have for myself for months and months at a time just to be able to accompany my friends to a mid-scale restaurant. It was a little embarrassing for me, frankly. I just wanted to be able to be with them during all those moments, not sitting at home bored with incredible FOMO.
That’s why I decided to start camming on the side.
I didn’t do it frequently, just when I anticipated buying something I had been wanting — like a nice pair of boots or some furniture — or wanted to go out with friends, and it wasn’t an easy decision for me to make either. I spent close to a year mulling it over, really weighing my options, and honestly, it was the only one I was comfortable enough to explore, surprisingly.
I mean, I masturbated anyway. It was in the privacy of my room with no audience, sure, but why do something for free when you could be making some money out of it? And all I had to do to hide my identity was get a second bank account, move all of the identifying pictures out of the way, buy myself a nice, sexy mask that obscured a majority of my face, and stream on an out-of-the-way cam site I was sure most of the people in my life would not be privy to.
At first, it was incredibly intimidating. My sex life was borderline nonexistent, and I was basically about to expose myself to strangers on the internet. I could barely speak during my first stream, but over time I became more comfortable with my movements and my voice — almost confident, even. But that didn’t mean I still didn’t get nervous before every stream, like now.
As I laid on my bed and pulled the black lace mask over my face, I let out a slow, steadying breath, fingers hovering over the trackpad of my laptop, the cursor teasing the ‘Go Live’ button. And then I clicked it.
sweetdream is live.
On the other side of town, Nicholas came home exhausted, but most of all frustrated. Shooting had been absolutely brutal this week, and the constant tension in his body was driving him insane. It didn’t help that he barely had any time to go out with his friends or even entertain the girls in his DMs and maybe hook up with one of them to blow off some steam.
But he didn’t want to deal with any of that right now. He was just so exhausted; how could he possibly have the energy to even pretend to be interested in whatever conversation his friends or those girls had to say? He wanted something here, something now.
Nicholas tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and kicked off his shoes, running a hand through his hair as he made his way over to the fridge and reached in for a nice, cold beer before retreating to his room. The familiar solitude of his apartment felt suffocating tonight, the silence amplifying the ache in his chest and the tension coiling low in his stomach. He threw himself onto his bed, letting out a quiet groan as he reached for his laptop on the nightstand and set down his beer with a dull thud.
He hadn’t forayed into the world of internet porn in over month, but he did it like clockwork — reaching into his nightstand drawer for his wired headphones and sticking them into his MacBook’s audio jack before carefully placing the laptop over his thighs and waking it to life.
Nicholas’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as his thumb rubbed over the trackpad, opening a private window and typing in all of the familiar site names — PornHub, Xhamster, XVideos, hell, even XNXX. He scrolled for a bit on each, hoping at least one video might catch his attention and fully awaken his half-hard cock, but none of them were hitting the way he wanted — needed — tonight.
They all seemed too polished, now. Way too much makeup and studio lights. Makeup and studio lights was all he worked with on set, and the last thing he wanted was to jerk off to work. Frustrated, he closed the tabs one by one. He needed something different — something raw, something real.
He didn’t visit cam sites often, but when he did, they delivered exactly what he was looking for. Something authentic. So, without any hesitation, he clicked through his bookmarks and clicked the out-of-the-way cam site he had come across months and months ago deep in the pages of Google.
Nicholas leaned back against the headboard, the familiar homepage of the cam site loading in front of him, colorful and bright and borderline blinding, the screen illuminating his face and reflecting off his wooden headboard. A variety of thumbnails greeted him, showing live streams in progress. Women of all shapes and sizes, their expressions ranging from coy to confident, teasing the camera.
He scrolled lazily past the wall of endless thumbnails, picking up his beer and taking a lazy swig as he sifted through, trying to find someone who caught his eye. Most were the same: over-the-top angles, exaggerated expressions. They all felt…off. Too staged. Too fake. They all blurred together, until one made him stop dead in his tracks.
His thumb froze mid-scroll, and he nearly choked on his beer, setting the bottle back down on his nightstand as he stared at the screen, his eyebrows furrowed at the tiny square. His cursor hovered over the thumbnail, magnifying it just a smidge.
The thumbnail was simple — cozy lighting, a tidy bedroom with a familiar-looking duvet cover, and a girl wearing a delicate pink satin lingerie set, her face obscured by a lace mask that looked like it had been plucked right out of a Venetian mask shop during Carnival. The room in the background had pale lavender walls, warm fairy lights adorning the wall where the headboard of the bed would be, and candles flickering in the background. It was all familiar. Way too familiar.
“No fucking way,” he muttered under his breath, the words rumbling at the back of his throat.
He leaned closer to the screen, his heart pounding in his chest. His fingers twitched over the trackpad before he clicked, the stream loading painfully slow as the rainbow wheel spun. He held his breath, his entire body tense as he waited for the image to appear.
And when it did, his stomach dropped.
It was her.
It was me.
The shy, sweet, (Y/N) he’d known for years. The girl who blushed when someone so much as mentioned a sex scene in a movie. The same girl who stumbled over her words anytime he called me ‘baby’ in that teasing tone he so loved to use. The girl that hasn’t been on so much as a real date in the time he’s known her.
I was sitting there on his screen, laying on my side and propping myself up by the elbow, dressed in soft pink satin lingerie, my body glowing under the warm light of my bedroom as I read chat.
Nicholas’s breath caught in his throat, his heart hammering so loudly in his chest that he was certain it would burst. His eyes were glued to the screen, unwilling — or unable — to look away. He leaned in closer, the reality of what he was seeing crashing into him like a freight train.
My fingers lightly traced the satin straps of my bra, my voice soft as I spoke to the camera. The black lace mask obscured the top half of my face, but there was no mistaking it — it was me. My voice, my laugh, my nervous little gestures.
“My day was fine; thank you for asking,” I sheepishly smiled as I read a comment from chat, my finger tracing down to my leg, idly trailing up and down my hip, my voice thrumming through Nicholas’s headphones loud and clear.
“What the fuck,” Nicholas whispered to himself, his hand clenching into a fist against his thigh. He wasn’t half-hard anymore; he was hard as a fucking rock.
The chat on my screen lit up with messages, dozens of anonymous names firing off compliments, tips, and lewd suggestions. Nicholas’s stomach churned, a mix of guilt, confusion, and something darker coiling low in his gut.
He should have closed the tab — hell, he should’ve slammed the laptop shut and never spoken of this to anyone — but he didn’t. Instead, he turned up the volume and watched.
Nicholas’s mind raced as he stared at the screen, unable to tear his eyes away. He should’ve stopped. Should’ve closed the tab. Should’ve shoved the laptop away. Hell, throw it across the room if that’s what it took to stop watching. But he didn’t.
Instead, his hand drifted lower, instinct overriding logic as his cock strained painfully against the fabric of his sweatpants.
I shifted on the bed, sitting back on my heels, the delicate pink satin stretching over my body as I leaned closer to the camera. My fingers brushed the lace of my mask before trailing down to the straps of my bra, teasing the edge.
“Let’s see,” I murmured, scanning the chat, my voice carrying a nervous lilt. “You want me to take my time tonight, huh?”
The chat box on my screen lit up with requests and donations, the little dings echoing faintly in the background. I leaned forward, my cleavage filling the frame as I adjusted the camera slightly.
“Thank you for the tip, Anonymous,” I said shyly, a smile tugging at my lips.
Nicholas’s chest tightened as his cock stirred in his jeans. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. The idea of me, his quiet, unassuming friend, doing something like this was utterly surreal, utterly impossible. It was impossibly hot.
Johnny88 donated $100: take off ur bra
The moment the donation notification lit up the chat, Nicholas’s jaw clenched. His hand froze mid-motion, hovering over the waistband of his sweatpants.
$100.
The chat was eating it up, emojis flooding the stream, accompanied by crude, explicit comments urging me to follow through. I hesitated for a moment, looking at the message on my laptop screen, my expression shy but playful.
“Wow… Thank you, Johnny88,” I murmured, my voice soft but steady, betraying a nervous edge. “Guess I don’t want to disappoint, huh?”
Nicholas’s breathing deepened, his cock aching as he watched me slowly slide the straps of my bra off my shoulders, my fingers trembling slightly as they trailed over my skin. I glanced at the chat again, clearly gauging my audience’s reaction.
His stomach churned with something primal, a mix of possessiveness and desire that made his head spin. He wanted to hate himself for watching, for indulging in this, but the truth was, he was riveted. Every little movement, every shy smile, every flicker of hesitation only made it worse. And then my hands reached around my back to undo the clasp and the bra came off.
Nicholas groaned under his breath as the satin slid down my arms, revealing my bare chest to the camera. My hands instinctively moved to cover myself at first, but then, slowly, I let them drop, exposing myself completely.
I bit my lip, my hand beginning to knead at my breast, a little whimper escaping my lips as I pinched my hard nipple. “Is this what you wanted?” I asked, almost teasingly.
Nicholas’s breathing hitched, his hand clenching into a fist against the mattress as his other slowly moved to hook itself around his waistband. The sound of my voice, soft and teasing, sent a jolt straight through him. He felt like the biggest fucking pervert alive, but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to.
My fingers teased the hem of my panties, my hand brushing over the top of my center as I sat on my knees in front of the camera, waiting for a little more donations to roll in before deciding to pull them off.
Nicholas’s hand trembled slightly as he lifted his hips up slightly to pull down his sweatpants along with his Nike briefs to free himself, his throbbing erection springing out. He hated himself for how hard he was, for the way his body reacted to every soft, breathy sound I made, but god, he was transfixed, his eyes locked on the screen as I teased the camera, my fingers toying with the waistband of my panties.
The sound of a new donation chimed through the speakers. Another request. My eyes flicked to the laptop screen, and a shy smile curled on my lips as I read the message aloud.
“Anonymous tipped $100. Hmm…” I hesitated, my voice dropping to a near whisper. “Panties off, huh?”
Nicholas’s jaw clenched as I kneeled in front of the camera, my chest moving out of the top of the frame as the image of my panties filled the screen. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and tugged them down just enough to tease. My movements were deliberate, slow, and sensual, and Nicholas’s hand moved instinctively to wrap his pulsing length.
I slipped the panties lower, finally revealing myself completely to the camera. I maneuvered myself on the bed to pull my underwear out from under my feet before dangling it in front of the camera to show my viewers the large damp spot, quietly giggling. “God, look how wet I am already,” I whispered, more to myself than to my audience.
The chat exploded with comments. Compliments, pleas, and donations rolled in, but Nicholas barely registered them. He groaned, his hand tightening around his cock as he watched me. “Fuck, (Y/N),” he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with arousal as he started to stroke himself, his eyes fluttering shut before opening again. The sight of me, naked and confident, teasing the camera with that shy giggle, had him utterly captivated.
I reached for something out of frame, my trustee delicate pale pink rabbit vibrator, and settled back on the bed, glancing at the camera with a shy, almost apologetic smile. “I thought I’d… try something new tonight,” you said, your voice trembling just enough to make his cock ache.
Nicholas couldn’t help the groan that rumbled low in his throat as he watched me turn the vibrator over in my hands, inspecting it like it was new to me, even though I knew exactly what I was doing. Every movement was calculated to tease, to entice, and fuck, it was working.
His strokes quickened as I brought the toy closer to my mouth, running my tongue over the tip before sucking it gently. His eyes darkened, his breathing heavy as he imagined those soft lips of mine wrapped around him instead.
Love69 donated $50: wish that was me
“Fuck off,” Nicholas gritted his teeth at the donation, his jaw tightening as his hand worked his cock faster, the sight of me teasing the camera sending a wave of heat straight through him. The jealousy coiled low in his gut as the chat lit up with messages, strangers clamoring for my attention, showering me with tips and crude remarks.
The donation pulled a soft, breathy laugh from my lips, and I tilted my head, looking directly at the camera. “Oh, do you?” I murmured, my voice dripping with a mix of innocence and teasing. I ran my tongue along the length of the vibrator again, swirling it slowly before pulling it away, letting it hover just above my lips. “Sorry, Love. I’m imagining someone else.”
Nicholas froze, his hand gripping his cock mid-stroke as the words left my lips. The soft, teasing tone in my voice sent a shiver through his entire body, but it was the words themselves that hit him like a truck. The idea of me thinking about someone else while putting on this show, teasing, and playing for the camera — it was both maddening and painfully arousing.
His jaw clenched, and a low, guttural sound rumbled from his throat as he stroked himself harder, his frustration and desire tangling into something almost primal.
Who the fuck was I imagining?
The thought shouldn’t have mattered. This was a fantasy, an act. I was catering to an audience of strangers, faceless men who threw money at me for a show. But the way I said it — the soft lilt in my voice, the way I bit my lip, my eyes flicking to the camera with a hint of mischief — felt too real. It felt personal.
With his free hand, Nicholas reached into the front pocket of his sweatpants, fumbling to pull out his wallet. “Let’s make you talk, baby,” he whispered to himself as he pulled out his debit card with one hand, placing it between his teeth as he tossed his wallet aside.
Nicholas’s fingers trembled as he typed in his card information, his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. He’d never done this before — never donated, never left any comments in chats, never tried to interact with anyone on these sites — but tonight was different. I was different. He needed to know. He needed to push.
His cursor hovered over the donation button for a moment before he clicked it, his heart pounding in his chest as he typed out his message. It wasn’t flashy or crude like the others; it was pointed, deliberate. He hit send.
NC17 donated $50: Who are you imagining, baby?
The donation notification popped up on my screen, and I froze, my eyes widening slightly behind the lace mask. I could feel the flush on my neck creep to my cheeks. Nicholas smirked, his hand wrapping around his cock again as he watched me squirm. He could tell I was thrown off, that the question had hit a little too close to home. The way I hesitated, the slight nervous laugh — it only made him harder.
I shifted on the bed, the rabbit vibrator still in my hand as I trailed it over my nipple, glancing at the chat hesitantly. “NC17, thank you,” I smiled nervously, a tiny moan escaping my lips as the vibrator worked the tip of my nipple on a low setting before dragging it down my stomach, then between my legs. “That’s a secret,” I replied breathily before smiling softly, “Funny username, though,” my voice had softened, carrying a teasing edge, but Nicholas caught the crack in it.
Nicholas’s smirk deepened, his hand moving faster along his length as he watched me squirm on screen. That crack in my voice wasn’t just from the teasing act — I was flustered, genuinely caught off guard, and that knowledge sent a rush of satisfaction through him.
Funny username, huh? Of course, I wouldn’t recognize it. But he’d made me pause.
Nicholas’s free hand hovered over the keyboard again. His initial hesitation was gone now, replaced with something more daring, more possessive. He wanted to push further, wanted to see just how much I would let slip under the guise of anonymity.
NC17 donated $100: Spread those legs wider, baby. Does he know you think about him?
I bit my lip at the donation, my cheeks boiling hot as I obliged the viewer’s request. I spread my legs at the knees, giving the camera a perfect view of my my self. Nicholas’s breath hitched as he watched her glistening folds on full display. I let out a soft, shaky moan as I spread myself open with one hand and led the vibrator to my clit with the other. “No, he doesn’t,” I moaned as my eyes fluttered shut, my back arching against the pillows.
Nicholas groaned audibly at the sound of my voice vibrating in his ears, his hand gripping his cock with a newfound intensity as the words left my mouth. The admission echoed in his head, feeding the dark coil of desire and jealousy tightening in his chest. His strokes quickened as he watched me writhe on the screen, the vibrator pressed against my swollen clit as I let out a series of soft, breathy moans.
The possessiveness inside him surged. He couldn’t stop himself now, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way my body moved, from the way I responded to the toy teasing me mercilessly. His free hand hovered over the keyboard, his need to push me further overriding any guilt or hesitation he might have felt.
NC17 donated $100: do you know him?
I read the donation but threw my head back in pleasure before I could answer, audibly moaning at the sensation of the vibrator circling my entrance while my free hand kneaded at my breast. “Uh-huh,” I whimpered.
ilike2fuck: stretch yourself out
cheekybasstard: god ur so perfect
m1lfluvr: fuuuck
Nicholas’s breath caught as he saw me falter, my body arching on the bed as I moaned in response to the chat’s demands. His grip tightened on himself, his strokes growing more erratic as he watched the screen. The way I answered his question, breathless and soft, set his mind ablaze. The way I whimpered, the way I let the vibrator tease me, was driving him insane. He wasn’t just watching now — he was consuming me, feeding on every sound, every movement.
My hands stilled for a moment, and I reached off-screen, grabbing a small bottle of lube from my nightstand. The slick sound of it being poured into my hand sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through Nicholas’s body, his cock twitching in his hand as he watched me stroke the vibrator with the jelly. “Not that I need it, but it never hurts,” I spoke quietly as I watched my hand spread the jelly over my cute toy.
“Shit,” Nicholas groaned through gritted teeth, his thumb brushing over the swollen head of his cock with every slick stroke.
His mind was racing, trying to piece my answer together. His stomach twisted with a mix of jealousy, desire, and something dangerously close to satisfaction. I knew him, whoever he was. Was it someone I worked with? Someone in our mutual circle? Or — god forbid — someone I was secretly seeing? The idea made his grip tighten, his strokes becoming rougher as his possessiveness took over.
His fingers flew over the keyboard, barely giving himself a moment to think.
NC17 donated $100: Tell me about him.
I leaned back against the pillows as I silently read his donation, the vibrator gliding slowly over my folds before dipping inside, my moan trembling and raw. “Fuck,” I whimpered, throwing my head back as my mouth fell open. “He’s… so fucking hot,” I breathed through my moans, inserting the entire vibrator into myself slowly before taking it out again and repeating the process. “God, so hot.”
The chat erupted in a flurry of commands and compliments, the dings of donations coming in a constant rhythm.
Nicholas’s jaw clenched as I moaned those words, his strokes faltering for a second before he tightened his grip and picked up his pace.
So fucking hot.
The way I said it, the way my voice cracked and my body arched on the screen, sent a surge of heat through him. But the thought of who I was talking about — the mystery man in my head — had his chest tightening with jealousy.
“Not good enough,” Nicholas muttered to himself, his eyes darkening as he watched me keep my answers vague.
His hand paused on his cock as he stared at the screen, his breathing heavy. His free hand hovered over the keyboard, typing furiously before sending another donation.
NC17 donated $150: What does he do to make you so wet?
Johnny88 donated $100: fuck yourself from behind
Nicholas’s jaw was tight as his donation slid to the top of the chat in bold. He watched my lips curl into a small smile, my cheeks flushing as I rolled myself over on my knees, lifting my hips in the air while I rested my face on the pillows, back arched to the max. I angled my head to look back over my shoulder to keep reading chat while I guided my vibrator under me, giving the camera the most salacious angle as I continued working myself.
“He’s so fucking cocky,” I whimpered, the words spilling from my lips as the toy disappeared inside me. “And he always calls me ‘baby.’”
Nicholas’s head fell back against the headboard at my confession, his free hand gripping the sheets beside him as he watched me. It was him. I was talking about him. And the realization sent a jolt of primal desire coursing through his body.
His strokes grew faster, more desperate, as I buried the vibrator inside me, my body trembling slightly with the sensation. My moans started to grow louder, more uninhibited. I whimpered, my free hand gripping the sheets as I teetered on the edge. “Shit,” I gasped, my body arching as I pushed the vibrator even deeper, the pleasure overwhelming. “Yes, yes—oh, fuck. Right there.”
Nicholas clenched his jaw, his strokes matching the rhythm of my movements on screen. His chest heaved, his mind consumed by the image of me — his sweet, shy friend — coming apart in front of him. Every moan, every gasp, every broken cry of pleasure drove him closer to the edge.
“God— sh—,” he groaned under his breath, his hand tightening around his dick. He muttered endless curses under his breath as I thrusted the vibrator in and out, my glistening slickness catching the light from my laptop and candles just perfectly. He couldn’t stop. Not now.
On screen, my body tensed, my back arching as the vibrator brought me closer and closer to release. “God, yes,” I whimpered, my voice trembling. “He’s so—fuck—so perfect.”
Nicholas’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening as he leaned closer to the screen, his other hand trembling as he typed another message, desperate to push me further.
NC17 donated $200: Tell me how you want him, baby.
The donation notification flashed on the screen, bold and demanding. My breath hitched audibly, my gaze flicking to the chat. My cheeks flushed behind the mask, my lips parting as if to speak, but the words caught in my throat.
The chat exploded with messages, urging me to answer, but Nicholas only cared about one thing — my reaction. He could see the hesitation, the nervous flicker in my expression as I glanced at the camera. And then, finally, I spoke.
“I want him everywhere,” I whispered, my voice breathy and raw. My free hand trembled as it gripped the sheets tighter. “I want him to kiss me, touch me, take control… I want him to fuck me so hard I forget my own name.”
Nicholas let out a low, guttural groan, his hips bucking into his hand as my words pushed him to the brink. I whimpered on screen, my body trembling as the vibrator worked me relentlessly. “Yes,” I gasped, my voice breaking as I teetered on the edge. “Fuck—I’m all his. Only his. S-so close,” I muffled into the pillows.
Nicholas’s strokes grew frantic, his breathing ragged as he felt himself losing control. He couldn’t stop now, not when I was so close, not when the thought of being the one to make me fall apart consumed him.
NC17 donated $500: say his name when you finish and I’ll double it
My moans hitched at the sight of the donation flashing across the screen. My chest heaved as I pressed the vibrator even harder against myself, the vibrations sending shockwaves through my body. The chat went wild, messages flooding in, but all I could focus on was that one donation — that one command.
Say his name.
My fingers trembled, my grip on the toy faltering for a moment as I let out a shaky breath. My body burned with pleasure, my mind spinning with a thousand thoughts, and yet, all of them led back to him. My lips parted, but no sound came out at first. The knot in my stomach tightened, my thighs quivering as I teetered on the edge of release.
Nicholas’s hand froze mid-stroke, his entire body tense and his cock pulsing — begging for friction — as he waited. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his heart pounding like a drum in his ears. He leaned closer to the screen, his grip on himself almost painful as he hung on to my every movement, every sound.
“Come on, baby,” he whispered under his breath, continuing to stroke himself slowly as he leaned back against the pillows. “Say it. Say my fucking name. I know you can do it.”
My entire body trembled, the heat building inside me threatening to consume every last thought in my mind. The chat blurred in my peripheral vision as my head fell back, a low, guttural moan escaping my lips. The vibrator pulsed against my clit, my hips moving in time with its rhythm as I teetered dangerously close to the edge.
Nicholas’s name burned on the tip of my tongue, the demand in the donation rattling around in my head. The promise of doubling the already insane amount made my breath hitch, but it wasn’t just about the money — it was him. His name. The thought of saying it out loud while I came, letting it slip for somebody’s entertainment when I have only ever yelled it for myself, made my pulse race.
I gasped sharply, my hips bucking as the vibrator hit just the right spot. “Yes,” I moaned, my voice high and breathy, trembling with need. My free hand gripped the sheets tighter, my body writhing on the bed as I edged closer and closer. “Oh, fuck. I’m—”
Nicholas clenched his jaw, his strokes quickening. His cock throbbed in his hand, pre-cum slicking his length as he watched me come undone. The chat was exploding with comments, but he didn’t care about any of them. All he cared about was me — and that donation.
I buried my face in the pillow for a moment, muffling a desperate, trembling moan as the vibrations coursed through me, pushing me closer to the edge. My entire body was taut, teetering between pleasure and release, the tension unbearable. Lifting my head slightly, I turned toward the camera, my cheeks flushed deep red beneath the lace mask.
And then it happened.
The knot in my stomach snapped, and a loud, raw cry tore from my lips. My body arched, every muscle trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over me. “Nicholas!” I cried out, my voice breaking as I came, his name spilling from my lips like it was the most natural thing in the world, because it was. My entire body convulsed and dropped onto the bed, violently trembling from pure pleasure.
Nicholas froze, his entire body locking up as the sound of his name filled his headphones. “I—Fuck!” Nicholas’s eyes fluttered shut as he growled, his hand gripping himself tightly as my orgasm unraveled in front of him. My moans, my trembling thighs, the way I arched my back and collapsed onto the bed in the aftershocks — it was too much, and he let go.
A guttural groan tore from his throat, his cock twitching in his hand as he came, his release spilling over his fist and shirt in hot, sticky spurts. His head fell back against the headboard, his breathing ragged and heart pounding against his ribs as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, utterly spent. “Good girl,” he quietly panted.
When he opened his eyes, I was still trembling and avoiding the camera’s gaze, my body slowly relaxing as I came down from the high. My cheeks were flushed, my breathing heavy, my hair a little mussed from the mask’s elastic band slipping off just so, and there was a small, satisfied smile tugging at my lips. “Fuck, that was amazing,” I whispered.
Nicholas reached for a box of tissues on his nightstand and wiped his hand and tried to clean as much of his shirt as he could, then reached for the beer bottle on his nightstand and took a swig to quench his thirst, a small smirk on the corner of his lips.
I reached for a tissue from the nightstand, cleaning up the toy and myself before glancing back at the camera. The chat lit up with more comments and donations, all of them praising my performance but I only had one thing on my mind.
“Where’s that donation you promised, NC17?” I asked with a coy smile, rolling over on my stomach and tossing my vibrator aside.
Nicholas chuckled under his breath, his chest still rising and falling heavily. He shook his head, leaning forward to type on the keyboard. He typed in the payment details again, adding the promised donation with a smirk tugging at his lips. His cursor hovered over the “send” button for a beat longer than necessary before he clicked it.
NC17 donated $1,000: You earned it, baby. Don’t spend it all at once.
The notification flashed on my screen, bold and unmistakable. My eyes widened slightly and I froze, my breath hitching audibly as I stared at the amount. The most I had ever made in a single stream — in a single donation. The chat immediately erupted with reactions, some congratulatory, others envious that it hadn’t been them to make the donation, but I barely noticed them.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, sitting up slightly and brushing my hair back, my fingers trembling as I adjusted the mask that had slipped slightly during the stream. “NC17, you are the best. Oh, my god! Thank you, thank you, thank you. That’s… wow. You’re amazing.”
Nicholas leaned back against the headboard, his smirk deepening as he watched my reaction. The way my voice trembled with gratitude, the way I bit my lip nervously — it was all too much, too intoxicating. It sent a thrill through him, knowing he was the one making me react like that.
“Damn straight,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his damp hair as he reached for his beer again. He took a long swig, his eyes never leaving the screen as I began to wind down the stream. His chest still heaved slightly, his body thrumming with the aftershocks of everything that had just happened.
“I think that’s it for tonight,” I said softly, my voice carrying that familiar mix of shyness and playfulness. “Thank you all for being here. And thank you again, NC17. You’ve been… incredible.” My eyes flicked to the chat one last time, lingering on his username before I smiled and waved. “Goodnight, everybody. Sweet dreams,” I blew a kiss to the camera.
sweetdream has ended the stream.
With that, I leaned forward and ended the stream, the screen fading to black. I sat back against my headboard, letting out a shaky breath as I pulled off the lace mask. My cheeks were still flushed, my heart pounding in my chest as I stared at the laptop, the donation total lingering in the corner of the screen.
Across town, Nicholas shut his own laptop with a quiet click and pulled off his earphones, tossing both aside and running a hand down his face once reality started to creep back in. He’d just crossed a line — one he couldn’t uncross. He’d watched me, his friend, in a way that was impossible to forget. And worse, I’d said his name. Called out for him while I fell apart on camera, in front of God knows how many strangers. Even worse, he’d dropped over two thousand dollars just to see it happen.
He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. He knew he’d have to face me eventually. Knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this secret forever. But for now, he let the smirk linger, his mind already spinning with how to handle the situation.
“Sweet dreams, baby,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and teasing as he reached for his beer.
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