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I'm late to the partyyy but I would love to hear about the cockwarming wip🤭🤭

You're never late to the party dw!! I'm also terribly slow at answering so I'd argue you're right on time LMAO 😭

Ahh the cockwarming wip...

This is about our dear rat Pecco Bagnaia being an absolute nervous wreck before the Sunday races, almost unable to focus and just so fidgety...2025 has been hard, and he's recommended by a specialist to use cockwarming as a way to empty his head and feel less stressed.

He's hesitant at first, but eventually he asks Vale to help. It's not like it's anything much, or even sexual, right? He just needs to sit on Vale's cock for a while and let himself get lost in the sensations.

I'm sure everything will go to plan 😇

#will he manage to sit still is the question #and how will vale take this >:)#to be continued....#motogp rpf #pecco bagnaia #francesco bagnaia #valentino rossi #soro's asks #IDK THEIR SHIP NAMR #valenaia #?????????#ask game

Promise | Extra | Next

#ts4 #indya #black simblr #tw blood #blood cw #to be continued....#ts4 story #sims 4 story #simblr #ch25

What if...

Five, in a last fit of rage and defiance, summons the energy to attack Reginald in the Oblivion machine. With only one arm, dizzy from lack of blood and loss of his marigold, Five's desperate attack is swatted away like a flea. When Allison pleads with Reginald for clemency, their father makes the split second decision to throw Allison into the furnace instead of the nearly depleted Five. The addition of her marigold gives the doomsday machine enough power to achieve its purpose.

Five's last vision before he fades into oblivion is the image of his siblings dying in front of him, once again helpless to save them.

Sometimes later, to Five's surprise and horror, he wakes up. He is in a hospital bed, tended by competent but cold nursing staff that call him "Mr. Hargeeeves" politely and never answer any questions. Late at night, he pulls at his powers, but with only one remaining hand nothing happens. Eventually, he leaves the hospital, simply walking out in the middle of the day, and finds himself in the midst of a city that is Not Quite like the one he remembers.

He wanders the strange City, heading as best he remembers towards the Academy. It's not there. A nondescript housing block sits in its place. Griddys is gone too, as is every recognizable place from the dusty memories of Five's childhood. His entire life is erased, except for the name Hargreeves, which he finds engraved in stone on every municipal building and etched in metal and glass on many of the corporate ones.

Five finds guards with Hargeeeves stitched on their uniform lapels are everywhere in the city, but each of them ignores Five, silently watching as he commits petty theft, then a series of increasingly public crimes and antics. There is one, and only one, exception to their imposed silence. Time after time, Five tries to get close to Reginald, first demanding, then bargaining, then sneaking, then assaulting his way into the ominous tall guilding bearing his father's name. None of these tactics work. Five is rebuffed again and again by the well trained guards who politely but firmly send him away.

Alone, truly alone, Five eventually leaves the City. He finds a small hunting cabin with worn but comfortable furnishings covered in a thick layer of dust. Life is harder out here, but Five isn't so far removed from his survival days, and the skills come back quickly. Over time, he sees Reginald's goons less often, and eventually stops seeing them at all.

One winter day, Five begins doing the math again, the stiff fingers of his one remaining hand hesitantly, reluctantly, then angrily scratching wobbly notes on random scraps of paper. These scraps grow and multiply over years until the creaky table, then most of the cabin itself, is filled with his writings. These tombs of equations, scratched out in increasingly confident strokes over decades, will eventually be catalogued and preserved by his followers as history, but for now, they are simply the proof of a solitary one-armed man accepting his destiny.

Eventually, Five wanders away from his self-imposed isolation, seeking out those who will serve his purpose - academics and engineers and malcontents and even the whack doodle conspiracy theorists - those are the most important ones actually, the ones who can almost see where the lines between realities blur, those threads of space time that are now hidden from Five. With his followers, Five eventually, painfully, finds those lines again and crack them open, using manual technology that recreates the spatial-temporal ripping that used to come as naturally as breathing to Five. Digital would be easier, he knows, but he purposefully chooses technology that can't be tracked, can't be traced by Reginald.

Five is once again turning the corner towards old age when they finally leave this world he never called home and set up shop in a pleasant and non-descript corner of reality. By this point, and by design, his team functions without him, creating a bureaucracy that quickly takes on a life of its own, living and breathing, but most importantly, finally freeing up Five to pursue his own interests.

He barely takes notice when they place the shiny new plaque on his desk. He never turns it around, never mentions it, perhaps because he already knows what it reads: Temps Commission, followed by Five Hargeeeves, Founder.