#but they do separate for a while and it fucks them both up

[ghostofbriggiesmalls]

I think it’s critical to understand that there is a difference between “concentration camps” and “extermination camps” and that, generally, we conflate the two. When someone says “concentration camp,” chances are the first thing you think of is “Auschwitz.” This was the most extreme example where the specific goal was efficient extermination. Both, however, either expressly or implicitly are used for the same end. They are a means to separate a population from the masses for the purpose of permanently ridding the masses of that population. Auschwitz was just that concept boiled into its barest form.

This is important is because the last great crime that the Third Reich bestowed upon humanity was giving us such a clear and extreme example of evil when the world finally saw what was happening, that now that’s the only benchmark we look for. We are constantly wondering if we’re headed for an American Auschwitz. And that we’ll know that we’re in an evil place when one pops up.

But the problem is, WE HAVE CONCENTRATION CAMPS NOW. TODAY. AND WE HAVE. FOR A LONG WHILE.

As many people know, Nazi concentration camps were modeled on Boer camps in South Africa and reservations in North America.

https://ictnews.org/archive/ugly-precursor-to-auschwitz-hitler-said-to-have-been-inspired-by-us-indian-reservation-system

“Hitler's concept of concentration camps as well as the practicality of genocide owed much, so he claimed, to his studies of English and United States history,” Toland wrote in his book, Adolf Hitler: The Definitive Biography. “He admired the camps for Boer prisoners in South Africa and for the Indians in the wild west; and often praised to his inner circle the efficiency of America's extermination—by starvation and uneven combat—of the red savages who could not be tamed by captivity.”

We’ve been convinced that we need to worry about slipping into Nazi behavior when it was the Nazis who slipped into American (and English) behavior.

Our concentration camps look different. They always have. It does not make them any less evil. We need to change our frame of reference. Everyone is looking around, terrified that what comes next is Nazi concentration camps.

But the truth is the Nazi camps are American camps. And they’re here. They’ve been here. Don’t wait around anymore because it’s happening now. Today. They’re our version of them and we are doing them right. Fucking. Now.

A reminder to the "the American government wouldn't..." crowd. They have. They have made their own internment camps before. They have rounded up innocent citizens and immigrants before. The victims of which are still alive to this day and trying to share their stories with the world, they have been trying to warn us for a long time. George Takei (as seen above) is a famous example of this. He has written about his experiences time and time again, even publishing a book talking about his time in these camps. He may be famous now, but at the time he was just another kid forced from his home. To this day he still firmly dedicates himself to trying to educate and inform people, trying to spread awareness with his platform. The American Government can and will do terrible things. Do not let anyone convince you otherwise.

[thegreatgatslin]

THREE'S A CROWD! (bllk x reader threesomes, 18+)

ღ SYNOPSIS: why choose between them when you can just have them both? ღ STARRING: nagireo and ryusae x reader (separate) ღ CONTENT WARNINGS: threesomes (duh), heinous smut, p in v sex, p in a sex, double penetration, fingering, oral sex (f/m receiving), face sitting, overstim, no protection, best friends nagireo, boyfriends ryusae

ღ SEISHIRO NAGI AND REO MIKAGE: WE'LL MAKE YOU SAY YOU NEED US

somehow, what was supposed to be a cozy night in watching rom-coms has turned into a full-on makeout session with your two best friends. and with the way reo’s large hands are ghosting over the bare skin of your waist, and how seishiro’s deft tongue is exploring your mouth with a surprising fervor - 

you think it might turn into more than that very, very soon.

“fuckkkkk,” reo groans, kissing up the side of your neck, and you let out a pathetic whine as you feel his hard-on poking your lower back.

“you feel too good, jewel.” you feel a tugging at the waistband of your sleep shorts, and look down to see sei’s beautiful grey eyes, wide and full of want, and nod breathlessly, they’re off in seconds, and so are your lacy black panties.

and even as you feel two cold, long fingers poke at your sopping wet entrance, you feel hands pulling your thick sweater up - you’re not wearing anything underneath - exposing your bare breasts to the cool air of reo’s living room.

soon, you’re letting out the most wanton moans you’ve ever heard - seishiro is thumbing at your swollen clit as his thick digits piston in and out of your cunt, and reo toys with your sensitive nipples, kneading the soft flesh of your chest.

“i want you to sit on my face, angel,” sei rasps, and you oblige, positioning yourself over his waiting mouth. by now reo’s pulled sei out of his grey sweats, revealing all eight delicious inches of him that you immediately wrap your hands around, stroking slowly.

you look up at reo, who’s unbuckling his belt, and soon his cock is standing straight and proud before your eyes, reddened tip leaking with pre. he cups your cheek, eyes murky with desire. 

“won’t you help me out too, angel?” and you moan at his taste when he pushes his throbbing tip past your parted lips and tangles his fingers into your hair.

you cum from seishiro’s expert ministrations - what, twice? three times? you can’t seem to remember. and reo, feeling a little left out, has his turn with you later on, as sei sits to the side, fisting his cock lazily.

suffice it to say, the three of you did not watch that movie.

ღ SAE ITOSHI AND RYUSEI SHIDOU: GO WILD, I LOVE IT WHEN YOU'RE ROUGH

having both ryusei shidou and sae itoshi as your boyfriends is interesting at times, because they’re different in every single way. personality, playing style, love language. and that extends to the way they fuck you. 

though sex with them is always exciting and really good, you notice a recurring pattern in how they handle you:

they start off slow, they escalate much too quickly, and they end with a bang.

sae always has the first taste of you unless he’s feeling generous, in which case ryu will dive in between your legs eagerly and eat you out until your legs are shaking and you’re crying both their names out. sae is much more methodical; his tongue will circle your clit while he fingers you at an agonisingly slow pace, sucking your slick from his own fingers from time to time. (he never forgets to give ryu a taste, too.)

and while one of them is doing that, it’s inevitable that you’ll be taking care of the other. your mouth, your hands, your tits - any part of your body they can use to get themselves off, they’ll use. sae particularly enjoys watching you choke and sputter helplessly on his length, while ryu likes when you jerk him off with one hand as you brace yourself on his thick thigh with the other - especially if you’ve just had your nails done.

then comes the “main event” (though you could say the whole thing is eventful enough). sae is unashamedly an ass guy, especially when it comes to your ass, so that’s what he takes. ryusei is happy to have your plush cunt squeezing around him, and they fuck you roughly in tandem, uncaring of your overstimulation. 

they make out heatedly as you’re sandwiched between them, and somehow or other, they make sure you all cum at the same time. oh well - that’s what you get for dating both a horny demon and a perceptive genius at once.

a/n: *gulps* part two? yes, part two.

© thegreatgatslin || ✦ M.LIST ✦

[maverices]

post-TG AU, in which Mav gets re-assigned to another squadron after his own is dissolved, and is greeted by a familiar face. set a couple of years after the movie. (wordcount: ~1k)

---

„Commander Kazansky, I believe you know Lieutenant Commander Mitchell? He’s been assigned to fill the spot in your squadron.“

Wait, what?

„Yes, thank you, Captain.“ If Iceman is surprised to see him, he doesn’t let it show on his face. Maverick isn’t too sure what his own is doing, in part because he has no idea what he’s feeling.

„Maverick.“

He controls his face, takes the offered hand and squeezes it, briefly.

„Iceman.“

The captain glances between them, looking for god-knows-what, and then nods. „I’ll leave you to it.“

They both stand to attention until he’s left the room.

„So,“ Mav drawls, turning to face Ice, „who am I replacing?“

„Me.“

„What?“

„Our CO was injured and had to take an extended medical leave. The position has been filled, but we’re still a pilot short.“

„And by the position being filled you mean…“

„I am the commanding officer of the VFA-25.“

„So you’re like, a Commander-commander now.“ Ice’s blank expression is definitely straining now, and Maverick really needs to move on from this.

„Is this going to be a problem? I can ask for you to be re-assigned, if that’s what you want.“

„And leave me with yet another mark on my record? No, thank you.“

„There are ways to do this that wouldn’t reflect badly on either of us.“

„I’ll manage. Sir.“

Ice doesn’t bare his teeth at him the way he used to, but Mav is still intimately familiar with the way frustration looks on his face.

„Look, Mav. I didn’t request for you to be here, but I am glad that you are. I would love to fly with you again, and that’s why I need to know that we’re on the same page here.“

„And what page would that be?“

„You are my friend, Mav, and my wingman. I trust you, with my life.“ He draws a deep breath, clenching his fist around the backrest of his chair, a concession to his emotions Mav has never seen him make. (Only heard, guessed at, in an empty locker room back at Miramar.) „But as of today, you are also my direct subordinate. I need you to separate Ice, your friend, from Commander Kazansky, your CO.“

„You give this speech to everyone in your squadron?“

„No?“

„So you trust them to keep things professional, but not me? Jesus Christ, Ice, I’ve been in the Navy as long as you. I clawed my way up from the Reserve to become one of the best aviators the Navy has, and I can guarantee you, while my sheer talent and my irrestible charm has opened me a lot of doors, they would have closed just as quickly if I didn’t learn the importance of keeping my mouth shut, occasionally. I know how this works.“

Under any other circumstances, Mav would tease the hell out of Ice for his stunned expression. In contrast to his usual aloof arrogance, he’s doing the Iceman-equivalent of staring at Mav with his jaw on the floor.

Ice rubs a hand over his face, and sinks into his chair.

„I know,“ he mumbles. „I know that. I didn’t mean to come at you like this, it’s just-- it’s not you, it’s me.“

Ice grimaces the second he says it, and Mav starts laughing despite the tension in the air.

„Real original, Kazansky. Got any more where that came from, or are you going to tell me what’s really going on here?“

Ice hesitates, so Mav adds with a conspiratioral smirk, „Y’know, just as a friend telling a friend his troubles.“

„Did you know I’m the second-youngest officer in the squadron? Third-youngest, now that you’re here. I’ve only served as XO for three months. Commander Rowles was training me up to replace him, eventually, but that was not going to be for another few years.“

„You think you’re not qualified for the job?“

„What? No, of course I’m qualified.“

Mav can’t help the snort that escapes him, and immediately shrinks under Ice’s glare.

„You disgreeing, Mitchell?“

„No, no, not at all, it’s just-- I forgot how fucking arrogant you can be.“

„It’s not arrogance if--

„If you’ve got the skill to back it up, yes, I’m aware, it’s basically my life motto. So if you’re qualified, and you presumably want the job, what’s got your panties in a twist? Not to inflate your ego even more than it already is, but you’re a natural leader. Most of our class fell in line behind you after day one, and let me tell you, that’s not how it usually works.“

At least that’s what Viper told him when after the first week of training the class had been clearly split into three groups who were constantly antagonizing each other. Apparently, theirs was the only group in years that hadn’t needed any more than the initial speech about teamwork to cooperate in any combination. Well, almost any combination.

„Except for you.“

„Except for me, but I respected you, even if your by-the-book flying annoyed the hell out of me. Honestly never thought it possible to be as good as you are without stretching the rules a little.“

„And yet, orthodox flying wouldn’t have gotten me or anyone else out of a confrontation with five MiGs alive.“

Mav blinks, once. „Careful, Kazansky, that almost sounded like a concession to my superior skills.“

„Imagination has always been your greatest strength.“

Tone, lock, hit. Mav cracks up, bending over from the force of his laughter, before collapsing into the visitor’s chair. Ice’s face is doing something strange, caught half-way between amusement and something far, far softer that Maverick carefully catalogues, but doesn’t point out.

„You’re still dodging my question. You’re qualified, you’re a good leader, if a little young. So what?“

Ice sighs. „I need them to respect me. Not just as a fellow aviator, but as their CO.“

Mav frowns. „Do they not? I’m sure your CO wouldn’t have picked you as a XO if they didn’t.“

„They do.“

„So, what? Come on, Ice, just spit it out.“

„How can I demand respect and subordination from aviators older and more experienced than me, if I can’t earn it from my peers and juniors?“

„Oh.“

„Yes.“

„To be entirely clear, am I your peer or your junior in this scenario?“

„Maverick.“

„Because depending on the answer I might take you up on that re-assignment offer.“

„Mav.“

„I’m kidding. What do you need from me?“

„I need you to pay me the same respect you would any other commanding officer.“

„Done. Although I’d like to point out that I’m not exactly known for my polite and respectful conduct.“

Ice pinches the bridge of his nose. Mav is getting more expressions out of him in this conversation than he’d seen in the weeks they spent getting on each other’s nerves at Miramar.

„I’m aware. That’s why we’re having this conversation in the first place. Just-- I don’t know, reign it in a little? At least for the first few weeks, especially around the rookie. I don’t want him to get any wrong impressions about me.“

„What, that you’re not just ‚ice-cold, no mistakes‘?“

„Ideally, yes.“

„Why?“ Mav wishes he could take the question back the second it’s out of his mouth. He’ll need to work on his impulse control, if he doesn’t want Ice to kick him off the squad within 48 hours.

Ice looks just as taken aback, so Mav starts back-pedalling.

„Nevermind. Forget I asked.“ There could be any number of reasons for Ice being the way he is, and none of them are Mav’s business.

He rises out of his chair and salutes. „Commander.“

Thankfully, Ice gets the message, and stands up.

„My XO is expecting you in the mess hall. He will show you around, introduce you to the squad, and answer any additional questions. Report in for the briefing on your first hop at 0700 tomorrow.“

„Yes, sir.“

„I look forward to flying with you, Commander. Dismissed.“

[diabolik-art-blog]

|| Shuumayui Life Headcanons 3 || NFSW, Threesome Warning ⚠️

Shu always likes to be on the bottom, while Yui is in between and Yuma is on top. Most of the time Shu and Yuma don't like to share Yui and they prefer to do their own thing separately, but sometimes they like to give Yui too much pleasure.

Shu always fucks Yui very slowly and plays with her nipples, while Yuma in the top fucks Yui very rough and fast, and this simultaneous contradiction always annoys Yui.

Yuma is an amateur kisser and kisses almost all over Yui's body. His kisses are usually very wet and hot. He likes to keep biting Yui's soft and delicate skin. But Shu is a professional kisser and most of his kisses are with tongue. His kisses are very small and warm and he always plays with Yui's tongue. ‌Shu prefers to bite Yui only when he wants to suck her blood, because he knows that after biting, he won't be able to control himself and might suck Yui's blood so much that she will faint.

Because Shu is always on the bottom, he has the chance to suck Yui's breasts, and Yuma is always jealous of this and may ask Shu to change positions so that he can enjoy Yui's breasts as well. Although Shu doesn't like this idea, he doesn't reject it because he wants to show Yui that he can be as rough as Yuma and give her more pleasure.

At the end of the sex, Yuma and Shu start sucking Yui's blood at the same time. Sometimes they lose their control and suck so much blood that Yui faints. But the next day when she wakes up, both of them take care of her and treat her wounds.

Shu usually likes to go to the bathroom with Yui after sex, but Yuma doesn't allow it and Shu suggests that the three of them go to the bathroom. However, Shu always sleeps in the bathtub. Yuma usually gets out of the bathroom indifferently in this situation, but Yui tries to wake Shu up and when he doesn't wake up, she tries to put his clothes on him and get him out of the bathroom.

This kind of sex rarely happens between them because neither Yuma nor Shu like to share Yui and prefer to enjoy Yui's body separately.

I know this headcanons look shit. So please just ignore if you don't like it. I won't tolerate any hate comment.

[wedriftlikelonelyplanets]

14 landoscar!

14 from this prompt list: "I'm not going to hurt you"

PLEASE appreciate some made-up zombieverse that uh....might become SOMETHING when I decide I have the time or energy. Lemme know if you like it or whatever....

Lando’s picking his way through the abandoned hospital when he hears something. The low murmur of voices, the scuff of feet. He’s not sure if they’re on the same floor, or one lower, but his hand tightens around the handle of his gun, as he ducks into an empty room, hiding behind the open door, and trying to steady his breathing. 

He feels the fear, it’s heady, and he’s dizzy with it, adrenaline sweeping through him, hand shaky. It’s been a long time since he’s run into anyone other than raiders and the fucking zombies. But these don’t feel like raiders. There’s a rhythm to the way they walk, almost military. There are three of them, at least. Three separate voices he can pick out, past the heartbeat he can hear rushing in his ears. 

He hates it, the fear and uncertainty he feels, as he tucks himself further back, trying to make himself smaller. 

He’d just been looking for a place to stay, safe enough at least, to crash for a couple nights, where he could barricade himself in from any possible threats. He’s been on the road for so long, and it’s exhausting. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s slept for more than two to three hours. It was probably months ago, when he was in a shelter areas, before they’d gotten infected, and then he’d had to run all over again. 

It’s been lonely, if he’s being honest. But he’s never really been able to trust anyone. Not truly. Everything changed after the outbreak, and it was easy for friends to become enemies. For him to realize that it was almost impossible to trust anyone ever. And then Max had disappeared, and that was arguably the worst part of it all. 

It’s truly not the time for him to wallow in misery, to get stuck in memories of the past. Doesn’t want to think about the time he went to bed with his best friend lying beside him, and woke up to his best friend gone. 

He sucks in a deep breath to steady trembling hands, flexes them around the gun before he relaxes again, pushing himself back to his feet. Wonders if he can move quietly enough to sneak out of the hospital, or at least to the next floor before they catch on to the fact that he’s there. But he knows that even if he gets out, there’s a chance that they’ll be able to catch him anyway. He’s on foot, and oftentimes when he sees raiders, they’re either on horseback, or in cars that they’ve managed to cobble together, make work with expired fuel and a dream. 

But he can’t afford to let paranoia creep in. There’s a chance that if they do have cars, he could make his own getaway. Despite lack of access, he’s fairly certain driving a car would be like driving a bike, and it would at least give him time to put in some distance, until he can find the next safe city, or somewhere safe for him to linger. Untouched miles of forests, maybe. He thinks that if he tried, with the right supplies, he could live in the silence for a while. 

As much as he misses the contact of other humans. 

Lando pokes his head around the door frame, looks both ways, holds his breath for a second as he listens. They’re still far enough down the hallway that he thinks he can get out without alerting them. Just has to move slowly, quietly. He’s learned to walk quietly in the beat-up hiking boots that have carried him hundreds of miles. 

It’s easy, at first, knows he’s hidden under the dim lighting in dark clothes, keeps to the shadows and moves quietly. But he’s not watching his feet when he glances behind himself, to make sure the group hasn’t materialized, and he trips over something. The sound of metal clanging is loud, echoing in the silence of the space, and he curses under his breath as he manages – barely – to keep his balance. 

“Fuck was that?” one of the people asks, much closer than Lando expected them to be, so he slaps a hand over his mouth, ducks into the nearest doorway and presses himself flush to the wall. His fingers tightening around the handle of his gun all over again, thumb hovering over the safety. 

“I’ll check it,” it’s one of the other people, voice lightly accented, and he sounds almost inconvenienced. Lando wills him to go away, to leave him alone so he can make his escape. 

“Careful, Piastri. Hamilton says we’re not supposed to split up,” the other response is dry, humourless, and Lando hears a scoff. “Don’t worry. Think I’ll be okay,” is the response, layered with sarcasm. And then Lando hears footsteps approaching. 

His breath catches in his chest, terror rippling through him as he works to hold it, to keep himself still, quiet. Like he’s had to do far too many times before this. He tries to keep his hands steady, but knows that if he has to take a shot, he’ll probably miss. 

It’s been getting harder and harder for him to keep his hands stable. It’s been getting harder for him to stay like this, heart beating out of his chest, and not let himself slip into flashbacks. So he bites the inside of his cheek, sharp teeth sinking in, to keep himself present. 

“Clear,” the guy’s voice is closer, footsteps echoing, as he gets closer. Lando’s fairly certain that if he poked his head out of the doorway, he’d get an eyeful of whoever’s there. 

“This one’s clear too,” His voice is loud. Overpowering the frantic beat of Lando’s heart in his chest. And then the footsteps stop, just outside of the doorway that he’s hiding in. His eyes dart around the room, looking for somewhere, anywhere to hide. Is about to sprint for the hospital bed, to see if he can squirm his way under it. But as soon as he goes to move, he hears the click of a gun safety, and he whirls, his own gun held in ever-shaking hands. 

“Found ‘em,” 

The man standing in front of him is gorgeous, despite the fact that he’s got a streak of grime and dust across his cheek. His brown eyes are bright, narrowed on him, lips pressed into a thin line. Light brown hair swoops across his forehead, and Lando has to swallow around the desire he has to reach out and brush it back with his fingers. Wonders if it would feel soft under his touch. 

Bloody hell, he’s been alone for far too long. 

“I’ll fucking shoot,” his voice is hoarse with disuse, and he watches as the other guy’s lips twitch up in a smile, gaze darting between Lando’s shaky hands, and back to his eyes. Lando knows that he looks panicked, and wonders if it’s enough for this guy to take him seriously. “Sure,” the guy says, tucks his gun back into the hip holster, suspends his hands in the air, like Lando’s a fucking cop. 

“You okay, Piastri,” the other voices sound closer than he’s expecting, and Lando jolts, heart rabbiting in his chest. 

“Yeah, fine. Stay out there for a sec, yeah? Reckon I’ll be just fine,” Piastri’s voice is an easy drawl, and Lando wishes that he could be so unbothered, so relaxed, in the middle of a fucking zombie apocalypse. 

“‘M not going to hurt you, yeah?” Piastri says to him, his voice low and gentle, like he’s trying to talk down a feral dog, and Lando sucks in a deep breath, chest rising and falling. His fight or flight’s still triggered, but Oscar’s still all slow movements, as he reaches one hand out. “You can give me that, okay? Don’t think you’re okay to have a gun right now, mate,” but Lando twitches backwards from the outstretched hand instinctively. 

“We’ve got shelter, food, yeah? We’re out on a supply run. If you’re not infected, you can come back with us. At least give you a place to rest your head for a few days?” Piastri’s voice is so gentle, and Lando can feel the prickle of tears beading along his lower lashes. “Let me take care of you, yeah?” 

And Lando nods, hands going limp at his sides as Piastri reaches out for him, wraps gentle fingers around Lando’s wrist, tugs the gun free and removes the cartridge. “You’re going to be okay,”

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"GOD, YOU'RE SO BEAUTIFUL"

Another fic with him, because I need him so bad🖤

I hope you like it!

You had been dating Dave Lizweski for a few weeks.

Yes, the class nerd, the one who spent hours with his nose buried in the pages of a comic book instead of going outside to get some fresh air.

You smiled when you saw him adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose while staring at your language arts teacher. He was so adorable…

He felt someone staring at him and turned to meet you. He gave a shy smile, his cheeks blushing. You couldn’t help but take a deep breath at the sight.

You could tell that the fact that he looked so innocent in public and when you got home he was desperate to take your clothes off, turned you on more than you were willing to admit.

Class ended and he waited for you to gather your things to walk you to your locker. He had class in a different classroom than you, but he said he didn’t mind waiting for you. You smiled and opened your locker to take out the books you needed for the next class.

When you closed it you stared at him for a moment, long enough for him to give you a shy smile and a nervous laugh.

-Why are you looking at me like that? - he asked, touching his cheek - Is there something on my face?

-No, you look perfect, as always - you said, making him blush again - it's just that you look really handsome today

He stared at you for a few moments, as if you had suddenly turned green. His surprised expression made you smile.

-Thanks… I guess - he scratched the back of his neck - I'm not good at accepting compliments, you know that

-That's not going to stop me from giving them to you - you answered, very smugly-

You looked both ways down the hall, the bell had rung a while ago and there was no one there.

You turned to him again and placed your palm on his chest, pushing him against the lockers. Dave let you do it. He was unable to say no to anything when you looked at him like that.

-Have I ever told you how much I like your eyes? – you whispered, getting closer so that you could see yourself reflected in them-

-If I have, I don't remember – he murmured timidly before adding – Would you mind repeating it?

It was just those kinds of comments that made your toes curl and your arousal shoot up to unsuspected levels. How he could go from shy to a complete scoundrel was something you would never understand.

But fuck, you loved it.

-They're so blue – you began – sometimes I feel like when I look at you I could get lost in them-

-Oh yeah? -he questioned, watching you closely-

-Yes- you whispered, more and more tense- and your hair- you moaned softly- I love to pull your locks between my fingers when you kiss me

A broken sigh came from Dave's lips, before closing the distance that separated you and joining his lips with yours.

It was a passionate kiss, full of need, but at the same time tender and reassuring, as if he knew he had to calm down because of where you were but he didn't want to.

And that drove you crazy.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging at his long locks as you felt his tongue make its way into your mouth.

You gasped when you felt him run the tip of your lower lip, before kissing you again.

You had kissed before, but this one had nothing to do with the others. You were 90% sure that he had looked for a tutorial on the internet on how to turn a girl on.

You smiled internally at the thought.

He didn't need any tutorial, his presence alone made your ovaries ache with the need you had for him.

He pulled away from you for a moment, his lips red and swollen from the kisses you had given each other.

He took your hand in his and without saying a word he pulled you into one of the stalls in the girls' bathroom, locked it and gently pushed you against the door.

He placed both hands on your hips, before moving them up to your breasts, which he squeezed lightly. You couldn't help but let out a gasp, which he drank in when he kissed you again.

Within a few minutes the bottom of your clothes had disappeared. You laughed when you saw that the condom he had taken out of his backpack almost fell to the floor.

"God, you're so beautiful," he said through the fogged-up lenses of his glasses, "we've never done it like this," he realized then. "Do you want to…?" we can…

-It doesn't matter, Dave –you said, holding the back of his neck so he could focus his gaze on you- I need you, now

He nodded and lifted you nimbly by the hips, before sinking into you. You gasped at the feeling of him so deep inside you, the way he stretched you was definitely out of this world.

You loved that at first glance he might look thin, but beneath all the layers of clothing he was wearing he had a pair of muscular arms.

You threw your head back when he moved you forward, then pushed you back against the stall door.

-Dave… -you gasped- I'm not going to hold on much longer… you're –

You moaned as you felt his lips on the side of your neck. “God…”

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed. “You’re so beautiful…” he growled, holding your hips tightly. “You drive me crazy.”

“Dave!” you cried, feeling yourself tighten around him. “Please, I need…”

“Do it, baby,” he whispered, pushing his hips against you faster. “Come on my cock.”

That’s what you did. You spilled out hard, holding onto his hair, just like he did, resting his hands on your hips. His gaze focused on you, or at least he tried to, since due to the fog on his glasses he could barely see you.

-God - you moaned with your legs shaking, while you readjusted your clothes as best you could- someone was very needy - you joked-

He smiled and left a loving and possessive kiss on your lips, before answering:

-I can never get enough of you - he smiled taking off his glasses to clean them on the hem of his shirt- it's clear that we're not going to make it to the next class - he laughed, and you with him- so what do you think if…?

-Pizza and D&D? - you ventured, he nodded putting his backpack on his shoulder again-

-You've taken the words out of my mouth - he smiled as you left the bathroom to carry out your plan-

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Discovering the puzzle of what children of same sex parents call their parents. In another RichieMikey AU, I am pondering what Eva calls Mikey (in this au where he's one of her dads, go with me here). Is it Dad? Papa (that's been ruined by Stranger Things and sounds too young?) Pops? Pa? Genuinely no idea, none of them fit

[buttercup-barf]

Under the cut are mostly self-insert doodles of decreasing quality. Again, not much directly tied to Team Fortress 2. Might as well toss these out while I have no access to my puter. Much yapping under the cut and in the tags incoming.

Another self-insert, this time less of a "here's me as a tenth class" and more of a "here's my game experiences translated into the class I would take the place of". The Cleaner. Although I guess they could still be wearing either suit. It doesn't matter that much.

That one Convict's Case taunt with Backup would be extremely funny, because the man would be on the verge of a breakdown (he does not want to go to jail so bad you have no idea). The second image- I owe no explanation. You know what I am. You see the pattern with my favourites.

The duality of the man. Resting face versus "just heard you express interest in religion/Russian folklore" face. He's not that hard to make friends with, when you pull him away from all the explosions.

Some doodles of trying to figure his face out. Unfortunately, the more I stare at him, the more I worry that he looks like A Certain Guy With The Last Name "Kazarin", and the fear of never being original in my life caught up to me.

Don't look at me, don't perceive me, I refuse to explain any of my actions to you.

[salsa-ishida]

you're back!! it's been so long!! I missed you <3 <3

ahhhh I missed you too!! Life has been insistent on grinding me to a paste but we perservere

[assassinhomecreedstuck]

i cant believe ive played world of warcraft for 20 years

[coridallasmultipass]

I am once again begging online shop payment processing companies to allow me to enter a separate name for shipping and separate name for billing!!

It's the same address, I'm just trans and have not legally changed my personal name, but I still prefer to receive mail as my preferred name! Like it's literally my professional name, I do business as my preferred name.

Annoying as fuck, and I don't want to chance my bank rejecting the payment (though I'm sure someone at my bank has put a note to allow it on my account by now, since I've contacted them a couple times before when I realized too late that the billing section didn't let me input another "address/name" section, and they said the payment was fine in those cases.)

Anyway, legal name changes should be free and non-advertised for everyone. Tbh, you should get a free name change every time you file your taxes on time as an incentive for good citizen behaviour. Once I am elected pres-

[dbphantom]

maybe i should have gone into practical effects instead of computer science...

[jvzebel-x]

"only other Hawaiians ever make me feel not Hawaiian enough--"

"Hawaiians from the islands are racist--"

"Hawaiians from the mainland have REAL aloha spirit everyone up here is just Hawaiian, no matter how much blood you got--"

okay but you understand that every single portion of what you just said is rooted in colonialism&the attempted murder of our people+culture, right. like you GET why kānaka from the islands have to be so protective of things as they are on the frontlines watching both our culture&our land get chunked for the proft of those who have no right to any of it, right. like you KNOW that hawaiian homelands requires a 50% blood quota to even get on the list&a 25% quota from anyone you leave that land to post mortem, &that the list is STILL decades long because the vast majority of the homeless kānaka back home MEET that requirement, right-- that the homeless demographic in the islands has the largest percentage of us left in one grouping in the world&it isn't surprising the families who maintained a higher blood percentage are also too poor to leave the islands even while dying on the streets, right. like you are CAPABLE of conceptualizing what all of that would do when confronted with someone from the diaspora who "doesn't understand why the aloha spirit is dead in the islands". right. like you can SEE&HEAR how it sounds when you say the nonhawaiian people&legacy of the colonizers that tried to obliterate your ancestors are the only ones who make you feel hawaiian now that they as a group have successfully taken up the primary position on what makes a good hawaiian. right. like you KNOW why there's even a push to properly exemplify kānaka maoli after literally hundreds of years of our people having to save us from cultural obliteration, &that the push to be a "real hawaiian" definitely didn't start with us, the people who you are trying to reconnect to&identify with. right.

like, i get feeling like the expectations are too high-- there isn't any right way to be kānaka, &there are most definitely kānaka who are shitty about that-- but coming back with, "BUT THE HAOLES VALIDATE MY HAWAIIAN-NESS" is just fucking WILD, like i don't know how to explain to you the haoles thinking they have a right to validate fucking anything in relation to us&our struggle&our people is just...

blood doesn't matter, but obviously not in the way you seem to think, lmao.

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[hightaled]

what is it about sims that makes it damagingly addictive

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Good god I’m so hypervigilant from work and I can’t shut it off