#op's tags needed to be included too

[lindstromm]

#for the millionth billionth fucking time: IMMUNITY DEBT ISN'T REAL. there is NO SUCH THING as immunity debt caused by avoiding illness#and ANY dr/immunologist worth their salt in the year 2023 will tell you that#“but you have to train your immune system for it to get stronger!” nope doesn't work like that. the immune system is not a muscle#you might as well tell everyone that the reason they don't have skin like armoured steel is that they haven't been stabbed enough#tell all those drs treating tuberculosis patients that they're weakening their immunity by wearing respirators and NOT catching tb#let's all stop filtering the water while we're at it. have everyone get cholera - that'll fortify ppl's immune systems for sure#this world is a joke.#ppl buy into this shit and then wonder why the anti-vaxx/anti-science movement keeps growing

tags from op

"Do not let anyone convince you that you need to get sick to be healthy."

[tirfpikachu]

i guess while you're studying the blade i shall protect dysphoric people in my humongous blanket full of secrets and treasures and awesome foreign snacks that i totally bought with real money

[biscu-sayssomethings]

Both hands gripped the rail as Portia stared into the night sky. The stars were barely visible within the city, especially on a night like tonight. The scent of smoke filled the air as the fires across the city grew larger and larger. They were safe for now, but how long? The fires would only incite more rage from the people, enraged at her for something she could not - no. That wasn't quite right, was it? It's not that she couldn't stop it. She was the one who started it. It had to be done. There were many who opposed her rise to power, many who once supported her have since switched sides. Portia felt the phantom pain spread across her arm, the fangs that tore into her arm. Bending over, she gasped. Deep, ragged breaths. In. Out. In. Out. The pain slowly eased even as tears ran down her face. Her right arm gripped her left, feeling the cold metal under her fingers. The arm had been amputated for months now but the pain and the memories seemed to never stop.

Leaning against the balcony rails, Portia glared out across the city. Lady Thaisa was ideally trapped in that damn pub. Lady Thaisa, Lady Albany, and Lord Robin. They would pay for their betrayal to their queen. Even if she had to take out half the city to do so.

[ms-demeanor]

making my own post because nobody needs my bullshit on their post:

OP:

Reblog 1:

Reblog 2:

My response:

The IRA blogs were here and they were active and they were quite popular; their posting patterns did not match normal tumblr users (i was followed by lagonegirl and followed back only to be put off by the account reblogging the same five or ten posts every hour for a day before selecting another five or ten posts to reblog hourly the next day - it was clear engagement bait).

Tumblr has never been as transparent about these accounts as both Twitter and Facebook were, but several of the accounts had shared names across platforms and you can find a significant amount of data that was released by both facebook (ex: ads purchased by the IRA accounts) and twitter (over three million tweets from IRA accounts). Academic researchers have published papers on the data released from facebook and twitter. Several papers. So many papers. Soooooo many papers. We have a LOT of direct evidence that you can explore for yourself that there were hundreds (possibly thousands) of IRA accounts that were created on Facebook and Twitter. Of those accounts, some shared usernames across platforms, and of those accounts, a few had tumblr accounts that posted the same content on twitter and tumblr.

To quote a buzzfeed news article from the time:

The Russian-run Tumblr accounts used the same, or very similar, usernames as the account names contained on a list of confirmed IRA accounts Twitter submitted to congressional investigators. In some cases, the Tumblr and Twitter account has the same profile image or linked to each other in their bios. Some IRA Tumblrs and Twitter accounts also cross-promoted content between platforms, further linking them together.

Current tumblr user @ alwaysbewoke (who I don't want to tag because I'm sure he's got better things to do) is interviewed in that article and talks about following one of the blogs identified by tumblr as an IRA blog that had a matching account on twitter identified as an IRA account but unfollowing when the left-leaning blog supposedly run by a black creator started rooting for trump in the election.

Dr. Jonathan Albright is heavily quoted in the article; the data review he collaborated on is one of the only reviews of this subject that includes data from Tumblr and Reddit.

One of the claims that I've seen is that tumblr just deleted funny black people, but these were blogs with thousands of followers on tumblr who never recreated, never popped up on another social media site, never started a reddit account after getting banned; nobody ever showed up saying "hey this is 4mysquad, I got banned on tumblr and twitter, follow me to pillowfort". These very popular blogs got deleted and, as far as I know, nobody ever popped up claiming to be a person who was deleted - and it's not like tumblr users haven't figured out how to evade bans.

What you are doing when you make posts saying that the IRA accounts on tumblr never existed is *absolving tumblr of guilt for their utter lack of transparency.*

Tumblr is not the only tech company that has tried to fly under the radar as its larger counterparts face regular scrutiny in Congress and in the press. Earlier this month, Reddit revealed it too had deleted hundreds of accounts with ties to the Internet Research Agency. A WIRED investigation found more than a thousand links to Russian propaganda websites are still live on Reddit, and unearthed two suspicious accounts that Reddit immediately shut down.

So should you believe what Tumblr says? No, because Tumblr has been functionally fucking silent on this issue and the information about this subject aside from the list of blogs has come from the hard work of data scientists, journalists, and researchers.

(For the record; some of those bot accounts that were recorded by Dr. Albright also had Google+ accounts in 2017 - there is every possibility that they had myspace accounts).

Now, the reason that I'm popping onto this post as an annoyed anarchist is that I was tracking a similar group of blogs for a while and was discussing them and I stopped precisely because of the galaxy-brained liberals who are now trying to dunk on communists for criticizing electoralism. One of the people who was following my project was one of the ones who started calling out the "joe biden kills dogs" posts as disinfo and I realized they were using some of the guidelines I'd written up to "identify" misinformation and that is very a rock fucking stupid approach to what was clearly a leftist making jokes and was horrified and realized there was no way that I could continue documenting what I was documenting without someone attempting to call actual leftists russian bots.

I've seen the post that OP is referencing [it's one where someone makes a very obvious joke about the democrat presidential ticket and people jump on to call them a bot and then someone tries to do the "AI tell me a story" thing and OP is just like "I don't want to :(", proving that they are in fact a person and not an AI] and have deeply enjoyed the humor of watching liberals a) not understand a very, VERY obvious joke and b) become the unwitting butt of a joke they were trying to make, but also I am so exhausted by watching normie dems call leftists AI bots after years of watching normie dems call real live actual leftists who hold actual political views that real people actually have, like prison abolition, russian bots.

But I am also so fucking tired of left conspiracism and how stupid it sounds when leftists dismiss a preponderance of evidence that is easily accessible and publicly available for analysis as "lol so you just trust everything tumblr tells you?"

No, dipshit, learn to click a fucking link or twelve.

[5ummit]

So there's this post with a troubling number of notes going around insisting that "dead dove" is not a genre, it doesn't inherently have anything to do with darkfic, and that the tag could be applied to fics that are "100% fluffy where everyone's having a good time" if they happen to contain some abnormal (though entirely non-problematic) content like an unusual kink. The claim is that "dead dove: do not eat" is simply a "courtesy tag" that means "this is a very specific niche, mind the tags." And that's just... wrong.

I wrote up a whole rebuttal to this post since I can't stand misinformation and frankly OP was being kinda rude and judgey on top of their wrongness. But right after I posted my reply, OP turned off reblogs because, and I quote, “some fuckwad added some dumb shit onto this post and it is no longer educational” (the “fuckwad” being me and the “dumb shit” being proof that they were wrong). A couple people have asked me to make a rebloggable version of my response, which I've decided to do because this isn't the first time I've heard similar claims and I want to help set the record straight. However, I'm not linking the original post on the off chance this gains traction because OP did the right thing by turning off reblogs, preventing it from circulating further, and I don't want them to get hate for being unfortunately misinformed.

For those who don't know the history, "dead dove: do not eat" was originally proposed as a catchall "hydra trash party" alternative label for any fandom to warn that the content of a fic may be considered problematic or potentially upsetting and to read the tags carefully so you know what you're getting into and won't complain later. Specifically, DD:DNE was intended to convey that the Bad Things in the fic would likely be reveled in and not explicitly condemned by the narrative, which some people tend to get up in arms about, hence the need for the extra warning in addition to the tags. Don't believe me? Here's the original proposal (note DD:DNE can be found on a handful of fics dated before 2015 but this is when it really took off and became a Thing).

There are currently around 50,000 fics tagged as "dead dove: do not eat" on AO3 and close to 50% of those also include the rape/noncon warning (which of course is not the only type of "dead dove" but is one of the most popular and most consistently tagged). The normal percentage of noncon fics in any given fandom? Around 1-3%. That's a HUGE disparity. So don't tell me that dead dove is just a general "courtesy tag" and doesn't or shouldn't have dark connotations. Even the context of the original joke on Arrested Development has a dark undertone. Micheal Bluth casually finds an animal carcass in a bag in his refrigerator with the label "do not eat", as if eating it would be any sane person's first thought. The whole situation is kinda fucked up. And this fucked up vibe very much carries over into fandom usage too, as was intended.

The claim that dead dove has nothing to do with the content's genre and could just as easily be used to describe a 100% fluffy fic in which everyone's having a good time is straight up Wrong, or at the very least, severely warping the original meaning. Also, when someone these days says that they like/dislike "dead dove" most people in fandom automatically understand what that means because of the consistency of its usage over the years and the way language evolves. Whether you like it or not, "dead dove" IS a genre now and the term does carry a specific connotation. I do agree that DD:DNE should definitely still be used in conjunction with other tags, when applicable, to be explicit about the exact type of fucked up content you may find, but to say that the term is meaningless on its own is patently false and I'm tired of people who don't know what they're talking about pushing this narrative and causing even more confusion.

You want a generic term that also means "mind the tags" and doesn't have any inherently dark connotations? Just use good ol' "what it says on the tin" instead of trying to force dead dove to be something it's not.

[sleepy-sham]

brb bowing down & worshipping this post

It’s time for people in the fanbase to finally accept that Aang was in complete control of the avatar state in that battle with Ozai. He was furious and his rage is clear as day, and he had every right to be. It’s tired to see people crediting Aang’s anger to Kyoshi or whatever all the time. The jokes are funny, but not here, not in this battle.

Aang enters the avatar state right after Ozai says this to him: “You’re weak, just like the rest of your people. They did not deserve to exist in this world, in my world. Prepare to join them—prepare to die.”

Aang reaches out from under those rocks and grabs Ozai, and then when Ozai tries to burn his face in the place he burned his own son, Aang smacks his hand away and then blasts him into a rock pillar with airbending, the first element he uses against him once in the avatar state is the same element Ozai just called weak. There’s a reason Aang surrounds himself with an air bubble, and there’s a reason Aang’s airbending is so violent and unrelenting in this fight. He literally airbends so violently that he erodes a rock pillar all the way through in like 2 seconds. It’s a blatant display of the power airbending actually possesses, a big fuck you to Ozai who starts running away like a coward.

Aang is coming face to face with a man whose family line is directly responsible for wiping out his entire race of people, his entire culture. They took everything from him. He had nothing but Appa and the clothes on his back and his glider. That was it. That was all that was left of their genocide, a genocide justified by the view that Air Nomads were undeserving of life, that they were the weakest of all the nations. Imagine how full of rage he must have been. And still, he does not kill him. Not because he can’t, but because he won’t let the Fire Nation complete their genocide against the Air Nomads, he won’t allow himself to be robbed of his own culture, a culture that exists through him only, now. I feel like people really just don’t understand Aang’s character, and they definitely never give him the credit or praise he deserves.

[anistarrose]

I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide

[Plain text: "I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide." End plain text.]

While every image posted online should be accessible in an ideal world, we all know it 1) takes time to learn how to write image descriptions, and 2) is easy to run out of spoons with which to write IDs. And this says nothing of disabilities that make writing them more challenging, if not impossible — especially if you're a person who benefits from IDs yourself.

There are resources for learning how to write them (and if you already know the basics, I'd like to highlight this good advice for avoiding burnout) — but for anyone who cannot write IDs on their original posts at any current or future moment, for any reason, the there are two good options for posting on Tumblr.

1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord

[Plain text: "1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord". End plain text.]

The People's Accessibility Discord is a community that volunteers description-writing (and transcript-writing, translation, etc) for people who can't do so themselves, or feel overwhelmed trying to do so. Invite link here (please let me know if the link breaks!)

The way it works is simple: if you're planning to make an original post — posting art, for example — and don't know how to describe it, you can share the image there first with a request for a description, and someone will likely be able to volunteer one.

The clear upside here (other than being able to get multiple people's input, which is also nice) is that you can do this before making the Tumblr post. By having the description to include in your post from the start, you can guarantee that no inaccessible version of the post will be circulated.

You can also get opinions on whether a post needs to be tagged for flashing or eyestrain — just be able to spoiler tag the image or gif you're posting, if you think it might be a concern. (Also, refer here for info on how to word those tags.)

The server is very chill and focused on helping/answering questions, but if social anxiety is too much of a barrier to joining, or you can't use Discord for whatever reason, then you can instead do the following:

2. Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards

[Plain text: "Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards". End description.]

Myself and a lot of other people who describe posts on this site are extra happy to provide a description if OP asks for help with one! This does leave the post inaccessible at first, so to minimize the drawbacks, the best procedure for posting an image you can't fully describe would be as follows:

Create the tumblr post with the most bare-bones description you can manage, no matter how simple (something like "ID: fanart of X character from Y. End ID" or "ID: a watercolor painting. End ID," or literally whatever you can manage)

Use a tool like Google Lens or OCR to extract text if applicable and if you have the energy, even if the text isn't a full image description (ideally also double-check the transcriptions, because they're not always perfect)

Write in the body of the post that you'd appreciate a more detailed description in the notes!

Tag the post as "undescribed" and/or "no id" only if you feel your current, bare-bones description is missing out on a lot of important context

When you post it and someone provides an ID, edit the ID into the original post (don't use read mores, italics, or small text)

Remove the undescribed tag, if applicable. If you're posting original art, you can even replace it with a tag like "accessible art" for visibility!

And congrats! You now have a described post that more people will be able to appreciate, and you should certainly feel free to self-reblog to give a boost to the new version!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn't go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: get ready for the hate.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The tunnel lights up ahead of you, revealing the cubic rock walls as you plant torches in your stead. The eerie soundtrack of night time and the ominous groan of zombies looming somewhere in the cave have you uptight. Silently, you press on, digging and mining mindlessly, fingers mashing the buttons on your controller. 

“Hey, where are you?” Jacob’s voice startles you. 

You nearly forgot you’re playing co-op. You sniff and shake your head, cursing aloud as your shock has you succumbing to the arrow of a sneaky skeleton. You sigh as your possessions scatter and you spawn back in your bed. 

“Back home,” you say glumly, “just ate it.” 

“Ah, damn,” his deep voice rolls in your noise-cancelling headset, “sorry, hope that wasn’t me.” 

“No, I wasn’t paying attention,” you hum and sigh.  

“Ah,” he accepts and lets silence linger before he clicks his tongue, “what’s going on? Everything alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you put the controller down, your avatar sitting on the geometric bed, “I just...” you stretch your neck and massage your scalp around the thick band of the headset, “got a lot on my mind.” 

“Right. I thought you were all done exams,” he says. 

“I am, but... packing. Going home. I called my old boss and turns out I’m not gonna have a job this summer. Gotta start over,” you yawn and rub your eyes, “what about you? Final exam tomorrow?” 

“Uh... yeah,” he hesitates as if he forgot. You do wonder why he isn’t cramming right now. You could never play minecraft all night the day before a final. “Easy stuff. I’m not worried.” 

You scoff. You wish you could say the same. All you’ve done is worry those last two weeks. Exams, getting home, getting a job. Your grandmother won’t very happy to find out you’ll be slumming it for a while. At least you tucked away some money through the semester. 

“Hey, if you need a few bucks...” Jacob offers. 

“What? Are you crazy? No way,” you exclaim, “really, no, I couldn’t. I’ll be fine. I just... I hate looking for jobs. You know how it is. Friggin awkward.” 

“It’s not a big deal. My dad sent me my birthday money so...” 

“Uh uh,” you deny him again, “that’s way too much. I couldn’t-- we haven’t even met.” 

“Mm, yeah, about that,” he exhales into his microphone, “I, uh, got an extra ticket to this Con. I figured out that’s it like the midway point between us so...” 

“A con? Oh, wow--” 

“Yeah, but I get that it would be expensive so maybe I could pay for your trip?” 

“Jacob,” you wiggle the controller restlessly, “I can't accept that. It’s so nice but... it’s a lot.” 

“I wouldn’t offer it was too much,” his voice is soft, meek, and defeated. You feel bad but you would feel worse taking advantage of his kindness. “We’ve been talking all year. I just figured it would be a good chance to meet up. It would be in public and something we both like so...” 

You scratch your neck as it speckles with heat. You don’t know what’s more insulting; yes or no. 

“Can I think about it?” You ask thinly. 

The line is quiet. You look at the screen and it goes dim from your idling. You hit the analog stick and fix your headphones. 

“Jacob?” You murmur. 

“Sure, think about it,” he says, his voice raspy and rocky. It’s strange. You’ve seen him in pictures and his voice doesn’t really match his appearance. He sounds a lot older than he looks. “It’s next month so lots of time.” 

“I’m sorry,” you cringe. “I just wouldn’t want to waste your money.” 

“Trust me, it wouldn’t be a waste,” he insists, “this last year has sucked. So much. You got me through it all.” His microphone scuffs, “studying, exams, all that stuff. It’s tough making new friends. Seems like everyone here knows each other from high school.” 

“Yeah, totally,” you agree.  

You’re not exactly the most popular person. You have people you know in each class but not too many friends you hang out with outside the lecture hall or library. So far, not too many people want to spend hours mining digital gold or racing cartoon characters around a rainbow track. 

“Well, you should probably get some sleep,” you yawn, “you got your big exam and... I gotta keep packing. Gotta catch the greyhound tomorrow night.” 

“Sure, uh, yeah, right,” his disappointment is potent, “hey, will you text me when you get home? Just so I know you made it.” He snorts, “god, I sound like my dad right now.” 

“Oh, of course,” you chirp back, “I’ll try to remember. Might be late.” 

“That’s fine. Just as long as you let me know.” 

“Don’t worry about me,” you assure him, “not ‘til I have to face my grandma. Ha.” 

“Yeah, good luck with that,” he says, “well... er...” 

“Good night,” you finish for him, “let me know how the exam goes too.” 

“Will do,” his timbre gets even lower, “night.” 

You sign off and shut down the console. Another yawn flows through you and waters in your eyes. You should sleep, you got a long day waiting for you, but you know it won’t be easy. Not with so much on your mind, not least of all, Jacob’s invitation. 

🎮

You text Jacob as you get on the bus, to make sure he doesn’t worry. It’s so sweet that he does, even some of your girlfriends don’t bother that much. Not that you mind the ‘hey, bitch’ Janet sends you every now and again to make sure you’re still alive. 

You fall asleep on the bus. You’ve never been one to sleep while travelling but you’re exhausted from a night of anxious tossing and turning. After spending all day packing up the last of your things and scouring your dorm room, you’re beat to hell. 

It’s midnight as you get to your grandmother’s house. She’s up reading another Stephen King classic in her rocking chair. She’s always been a night owl and a voracious book hound. She grumbles at you but doesn’t bother to ask how your trip was. 

“Hey, grandma,” you hike up your bag and smile.  

She growls again, eyes not leaving the page. You should know better by now not to interrupt her. You shoulder on and head down to the spare room where you spent most of your high-school career. You shut the door gently as the old hardwood floors creak with your weight and you drop your bag on the squeaky bed. 

You fish out your phone and plug it in as the battery flashes red with only two percent left. You leave it on the night table and stretch out, not bothering to change out of your hoodie and jeans. It’s not long before you descend back into the same dreams that marked your journey home. 

You wake up to buzzing. Your phone shakes the nightstand, rattling it against the bed frame. You groan and roll onto your side, reaching blindly for offending object. You hit the side button to dismiss the call.  

You blink away the bleariness and focus on the screen. Along with the missed call are several text messages. You squint as you expand the notifications. Jacob! You forgot to message. 

‘Hey, you home?’ 

‘Checking in. Must be busy getting settled in. Just let me know when you’re safe.’ 

‘Not meaning to be weird but everything okay?’ 

‘Please answer me. I’m worried.’ 

You drag your thumb around the keyboard, letting it predict your words; ‘sorry! I was so tired. Home now and safe 😊' 

Three dots pop up then swoop away. You frown as the same thing happens several times before a response appears. 

‘Was really worried. Thanks for finally answering. Been up all night.’ 

You’re stunned by the terse response. Yeah, you forgot to answer but he doesn’t need to worry that much. You frown and shift onto your side. 

‘Srry again. Tired. Talk in morning. Night.’ 

You turn your phone on silent and plug it back into the cord. You do feel bad but you’re too exhausted to let it keep you up. Besides, you need your sleep. You have lots of job hunting to do in the morning. Not to mention, your grandmother to face. 

🎮

You let Jacob cool down after your return home. Rather, he doesn’t text and you’re too distracted to do the same. As much as you’d like to sit around and game, your grandmother was as disappointed as you expected with your employment status, even when you gave her the money you had left in your emergency fund. 

After a week, you finally get a bite. It’s nothing special. There’s a seasonal ice cream shop in a booth shaped like a vanilla cone that needs a cashier on weeknights. It’s less than full time hours but it’s better than nothing. It will be strange working with high school juniors but you can’t afford to be picky. 

‘Game tonight?’ The text interrupts your first shift. You don’t have a chance to answer as a family approaches the window to order. 

You get them the soft serve and take their payment, bidding them a good evening with their vanilla points already drooping in the summer heat. You glance around at the mostly empty picnic tables. Soccer practice will end soon and you’ll be overloaded with eight-year-olds. 

‘Srry. New job. 1st shift. Maybe tmrw.’ 

‘New job? Congrats. Why didn’t you tell me?’ 

You sigh.  

‘Time got ahead of me.’ 

‘Same. Catch up tomorrow then. Minecraft?’ 

‘Sure. Tmrw.’ 

You slip your phone away. A mother and daughter approach and ask for a sundae and a banana split. As much as you love ice cream, working with it hasn’t tested your cravings very much. In fact, you might be falling out of love with it. The smell of vanilla and overly sweetened strawberries is kind of gross when it’s all you breathe. 

As you watch the happy customers walk away, you smile. Maybe it will be good to get some mining done. It will take your mind off of everything else. Hell, it might even make you feel like you’re doing something useful. 

🎮

“Shit, oh, sorry,” Jacob corrects himself. You always think it's kind of funny how he doesn’t like to swear. “My diamond armor.” 

“Oh no,” you utter, “where are you? I’ll grab your stuff.” 

He gives his coordinates and you turn around, leaping over the green blocks to make your way there. Despite your reticence at the beginning, you’re feeling better about the session. He wasn’t as tense as he seemed in his texts. 

“So, uh, did you think about the con?” Jacob asks. 

“The con? I almost forgot. When is it?” 

He gives the dates and you hum. Your chest flutters at the thought still. You’re not stupid. Meeting people IRL is not like online, no matter how many hours you’ve mined together. As much as you enjoy chatting with Jacob, you don’t know about meeting up. 

“I get it if you can’t get the time off but my offer still stands to cover the trip. If you wanna stay the night, I’ll even get an airBnB.” 

“Oh, wow, that’s a lot. I’m working now. I could put in,” you offer.  

“Is that a yes?” He asks hopefully. 

“I don’t know... I mean, I’ll have to look into it,” you say evasively. “Talk to my boss and grandma and all that.” 

“Right, right,” he tries to sound unbothered, “makes sense. Of course, no pressure. How about I send you the ticket either way? Haven’t got anyone else to bite.” 

“Oh, well, hold off, I wouldn’t want to take it and not use it,” you collect his weapons and armor from the ground in the game. 

It’s silent as you focus on getting every little thing. 

“Sorry, did I freak you out?” He asks, “I’m really not trying to pressure you, just got excited thinking about it.” 

“I know, Jacob, it’s not that, it’s just... a lot.” 

“Totally get it,” he intones, “let me know whenever you got an answer. Uh, where are you? I’m tryna find you.” 

“Just stay there, I'll come back to the house,” you assure him, happy to focus on the game instead. 

Still, you can’t entirely lose yourself in it. You’re sure he’s a nice guy. From pictures, he’s less than scary, and he’s never been anything but friendly. It’s not like the other dudes you meet online who jump to asking about your bra size and all that. It just isn’t smart. 

Well, maybe if you don’t show up alone. You know what con he’s talking about and Kara from Econ lives near there. You could probably convince her to meet up. Hm, that might work. 

Just like you told him, you’ll have to think about it. 

[blorbocedes]

let me take you guys on a journey. one that will help you understand how annoyingly obsessive and hung up my brain can get......

so here is where our wild goose chase starts. I was going through a 2012 f1 blog's nico tag. it's actually pretty rare for early 2010s blogs to have comprehensive tagging systems so whenever I find one I try to go thru it all. and I come across this v cute nico image (cropped for posterity. payoff will be worth it promise)

here we have a picture, from 2012, and in classic 2012 fashion there is meme text on it. OP of the original pic deactivated. so I want to find the version without the meme text. pretty easy, just reverse google search right?

WRONG!

google reverse search is functionally dead and defunct and absolutely dogshit.

ok back to square one. I'm trying to sus out from whatever information I have.

the other meme watermark of f1humour.tumblr.com? deactivated.

okay 37 notes. maybe I can do something with this.

tumblr kind of breaks (?) with very old posts. so even if someone tagged it, I can't see it. ok but 14 people liked it!

of the 14 accounts only 7 actually show, including mine. so what I do is I go through 6 of those blogs, and their public archives because those accounts are all inactive for several YEARS now. and I check their blogs for April 2012.

no luck.

back to the drawing board.

the meme has a MOTORSPORT.COM watermark.

here's all the information I have: this was posted on April 24th, 2012, which means that's my upper limit on the date this could be taken. Nico got in Mercedes in 2010. So from anywhere between 2010-2012 motorsport images couldve taken this pic.

so, because I was born with excessive intelligence, I think hmmm... let me search the archives of Motorsport Images dot com. surely that is where Motorsport dot com would keep their Images.

two years of a racing driver's pictures means thousands of pictures. okay. let's start from April 2012. unfortch for keen eyed listening, April 2012 was also the Chinese Grand Prix aka Nico's first f1 win.

why is that relevant? because it means every photographer and their MOTHER took a picture of nico for his first win. over 900+ images.

while I am exhibiting extremely unemployed levels of behavior here, I don't actually have the time and brain capacity to sift through 900 images.

I go back to the original tumblr post. this time I go to the empty reblogs. there's lots!

but because there's no tags it can't help me. still I go through every one of them because you can see the blog I found the pic from @the-fastest-waffle is listed in the other reblogs even though they clearly had tags!

and I find my silver lining. from @fuckyeahf1drivers's tags

just this simple. #bahrain #lol

if this picture is from bahrain 2012 it changes everything, as in it narrows my search a shit tonne.

375 images. This means 1-15 pages and I know the exact picture I'm looking for. I feel like I'm SO close. I can't give up now. gambler mentality 💎

so I guess what. I go through all 15 goddamn pages. and I DONT FIND IT!!!!!!!!! SCREEEEEECH

now I've lost hope. if it's not from bahrain 2012 then it can be from anywhere from 2010-2012 taken by motorsport.com which is just too big a search. there isn't anything I can narrow it down with. my search is futile.

but I have one tiny little thought bugging my mind. how come motorsport images don't have the motorsport.com watermark... so I consult a fellow archivist @vegasgrandprix on the matter.

WE AS A SOCIETY NEED TO ADDRESS WHY MOTORSPORT.COM AND MOTORSPORT IMAGES.COM HAVE THE SAME FONT

finally. finally

I go on motorsport.com

which is actually kind of not super user friendly interface finding their pics if you have excessive intelligence like I do. I go into this knowing if the bahrain 2012 long shot is actually NOT when that picture is from, I'm fucked.

I filter and say a prayer.

and lo and behold.

salvation.

one person's singular tag of 'bahrain 2012 lol' led me down this spiral, where if it wasn't for that bit of information this would be lost forever because finding the version of the pic without the meme text is otherwise near impossible. google reverse search is no help, and f1 drivers simply get photographed way too much. reblogs + tags with context literally are a holy grail. this is what I imagine archaeologists feel like. so if you ever want someone 12 years after you've posted something to go down finding out, tag your posts accordingly (assuming tumblr survives the next decade)

so why did I do it? why did I spend hours of my life on this? cause it's fun. it's like a mystery and it itches at my skin. many times I'm not successful which is why the times I am feels so rewarding because it feels almost like detective work, finding and refinding something, overturning evidence. and I have a brain that just functions Like This.

and now for the fruit of my labour, if you guys still want to see. the picture I spent hours to find the original version of. sitting proudly at the time of posting at 9 notes 😌😌 here's what goes behind actually finding and archiving 2010s retired f1 drivers online. click below!

👇👇👇

👆👆👆

[majorshatterandhare]

[ID: four digital drawing that make up a comic featuring Ivy Alexandria and Gunpowder Tim.

The first panel shows Ivy in front of a doorway with her arms out and an angry expression on her face. She has a speech bubble which reads “No firearms in the Archives” in all uppercase. The walls behind her are made of patched together metal with a poster that has Ashes face on it and words reading “Banned” in all uppercase and underlined.

The second panel shows Tim in front of a similar patched together wall, standing with his hands on his hips, upset. He has a speech bubble that reads “Wh- that’s a BASELESS [all-caps reads: baseless] accusation! What makes you so sure that I-” his speech is then cut off by the onomatopoeia of a bullet falling to the ground and bouncing. It reads “Clink” in all uppercase.

The third panel shows both Ivy and Tim from the side, they are facing each other and the top of Ivy’s head does not even reach Tim’s shoulder. The top of the panel has text reading “*stray bullet rolling down corridor noises*” and Tim and Ivy have a shared speech bubble which is just filled with an ellipsis.

The final panel show them in the same positions as the third, but now Tim says “Ok but what if-” which Ivy cuts off with “NO.”

Ivy has light skin and dyed red hair with an undercut. The shaved part of her hair has metal panels. She wears a dark red button up under a brown waistcoat with a black skirt over maroon tights and brown boots. Her eyes are black and her speech is written in red.

Tim has light skin and chest length curly brown hair and short facial hair. He has dark marks around his yellow eyes. He wears goggles on top of his head. He has on a white collared shirt under a brown waistcoat with brown trousers and a lighter brown long coat, over which he wears a belt. His shoes are also brown. His speech is written in light brown.

End ID]

For suggestions, Tim and Ivy? Anything with Tim and Ivy I love them so much

like he doesnt have at least 3 guns and several handfuls of spare bullets jingling around in his pockets at any given time smh.. shameless…

[chuuyasheaven]

"Special Candy"— Ranpo Edogawa

"Ranpo looked weird when you returned from the shop to buy him sweets, he was blushing and breathing heavily. You didn't really know what to do until you saw a candy wrapper on the floor, not any candy, a special candy which contains an aphrodisiac."

Tags: sub! Ranpo Edogawa / afab! Reader, aphrodisiac, overstimulation, pw/op, praising kink, pet names, hand job, creampie?, probably contains pussydrunk! Ranpo, did I mention that he's like rlly desperately pathetic, light teasing, might contain grammar errors, rushed, short?, etc.

Notes: hi guys !!!

Why did he do that? Ranpo doesn't know either, for once. All he remembered was that he had found it earlier since all his candy was finished. What did he find earlier? Some hidden chocolate, not any chocolate though, a chocolate with an aphrodisiac inside which he wasn't meant to find. Ranpo ate it nonetheless and now he's breathing heavily with a flushed face. You returned from the shop to find him like this. It was quite amusing to you how desperate he was for you, he was begging for you and your touch, so you gave in.

Of course, you went to the bedroom for this. As Ranpo followed behind you, you told him to stand there. "Strip first.", you said to him, he followed immediately, standing bare in front of you. You took of your shirt only, your bra open for him to see, which turned him on even more. "Come here, darling,", you cooed, Ranpo only walked over to you, waiting for any kind of touch. He sat down, you got closer to him with a light smirk. "You want me to touch you, baby?", he nodded quickly, your hand now running down his chest until it reached his v–line. Gently, your hand made it's way around his dick. You saw it twitch inside your hands, slowly, you started to jerk him off. "Mph. .", he whimpered, precum already coating his cock. Starting to get faster with it, Ranpo's whimpers got faster and slightly louder. "You're getting close, darling? Come on tell me.", you asked teasingly. "Y–yes, [N–name], please. .", he moaned, his hips jerking into your hand.

Ranpo was getting close to his climax quickly, with your thumb now caressing his tip, which even more sensitive that anything right now. After you included his tip, he came all over your hand. "Mmph, m–more,", Ranpo groaned, "More? Wasn't this enough, baby?", you asked him. Ranpo was only able to look into your eyes with the most pathetically look ever. "If that's what you want,", now you stood up to take off your undergarments too, only leaving your bra completely. Ranpo was getting hard again, wanting to feel your warm cunt around him. You got close to him and sat on his lap, your warmth making him leak again. "P–put it in, right now— please. .", he was begging already? How cute!

You sank down onto him, his cock disappearing inside you. As soon as it did, your cunt was filled with Ranpo's second load. He was breathing heavily and his face was flushed. Ranpo let his head rest onto your shoulder, you waited until he was ready to go again. When Ranpo was ready to continue, you started to bounce on him. He was moaning into your shoulder while you were using his dick to stimulate him. "Hm, such a. . good boy for me.", you breathed heavily, clear enough for him to hear, which also made him twitch inside you. You sped up the pace, needing to cum yourself at least once. During this, Ranpo was playing with the clips of your bra until he accidentally opened it. It fell down onto the bed, causing your nipples to rub against his. This made you moan in surprise and made Ranpo cum inside you again.With how sensitive he was, Ranpo was drooling on your shoulder. Your hips continued to do the work until you gushed around his dick, the mixed cum also gushing out around his cock. You took in one big breath to calm down until Ranpo put his hands on you hips.

"—P–please, one more. . I need it s'bad."

THIS is CRAZY.

@soukokulatte , @miloofc , @crystalice09 , @kk-oma , @medusalovessnakes

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

(Content “warning”, of sorts: unlike most of my posts, this isn’t intended as positivity or advice, it’s just a stream-of-consciousness piece of writing that I wanted to share) 

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

Every now and then, I receive a message like “Share this with your 5 favorite bloggers and ask them to share 5 fun facts about themselves” or get tagged in a post like “Share your favorite movie, song and book, and then tag your friends to do the same”. I read them, I smile and appreciate feeling included in those little games, and I log off without replying - and then I turn around and go „Oh, yeah, I guess I run a somewhat popular blog but people don’t really care about me, you know? I just, like, monologue to people about stuff and sometimes they read it but I as a person do not matter to anyone. I could be replaced by some robot and nobody would notice or even care.” 

As I’m typing this, I think that I could try to turn this into some general positivity and/or advice: on how people with a low self-esteem tend to dismiss signals that other people think highly of them, or on how small „meaningless“ connections like some random internet stranger just thinking of you while forwarding a chain message aren’t so small or meaningless at all, or maybe on how “lonely” can sometimes become a self-identity that stands in our way of connecting to others. 

Or I could talk about how part of the reason I just briefly smile at these messages but do not reply to them is the (re-) emergence of the queerphobic, false rhetoric that “queer adults are much more likely to be pedophiles, so all of them should be treated like suspects at all times“ (statistically not true, btw, but since when do people care about facts when they could just share inflammatory lies?) and all the ways it makes it hard to be a queer content creator with a young audience (and also to just be a queer human being at this point). And how even typing this makes me worry someone will twist all this into me asking minors for comfort and if maybe I should rephrase it, and now I’m thinking how this need to constantly self-censor ourselves fucks with our mental health and contributes to the loneliness epidemic among queer men. But this is getting too heavy and I’m running out of space in this letter. 

Yeah, I could write about any of these things now. I could monologue about it and someone would read it and they might even comment “good point OP” and I would read that and smile. And for a brief moment, we would connect. The same way two strangers connect when one lets the other cut in line at the supermarket and the other says thankyou and they never even look at each other and this small moment will be forgotten in no time but for a brief second it made the world a touch kinder, and it means nothing and it means everything. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[shattered-system]

The “Redefinition” of Systempunk

Updated version!

We're not typically an essay kind of blog, but there's something l've been turning over in my mind since l've seen it.

I have the post pulled up now actually, and about 11 hours ago @/the-alarm-system "recoined" (stole) the term systempunk in a long post, as well as designed a flag with its own meaning and I want to sort through some of it.

I also have a few personal pet peeves about their flag design, given that it's color palette clashes and the flag is way too busy. I don't expect it to spread far given that it violates several rules of good design (saying this as someone who has been to school for graphic design.)

I will not post it here, because I don't care to spread it any more than this post already may.

Their flag slightly predates my own version of the systempunk flag, but given that theirs was created for a separate concept with a stolen name, I maintain that we were the first.

We begin with their definition of systempunk.

“A term or Subculture surrounding the liberation of plurals and the critique of psychiatry."

First issue lies here. Both the destigmitization of dissociative disorders and critique of the psych field are extremely important discussions to have!

But they are separate discussions. There is absolutely overlap, but combining the two here is kind of shooting yourself in the foot, because then the conversation in that tag will be disorganized.

Have a systempunk movement AND an anti-psych or psych-critical movement. That way people can easily find the relevant discussions and terms.

This is followed up with a bit about the harm the psychiatric field has caused (not delving into that as that's not what this blog is about) and then circle back onto "the future is plural."

This is not one of the instances where OP means it in the "the future is destigmitization" sense, as they are pro endo. (On a side note, even ignoring the endo use of the phrase-- if I need to read about a slogan to understand the meaning of the slogan, it's a bad slogan. The point of a slogan is to communicate a concept quickly.)

The flag has black and brown stripes akin to the progress flag to represent systems of color, which is the only part of the design we have no critique for, but are describing anyway just as a bit of information.

The purple stripe stands for:

“Endo solidarity... endogenic systems are continuously harmed by antis who remain uncritical of psychiatry."

Once again, we are mixing two expansive concepts into one term.

The term anti-endo doesn't imply a position one way or the other on the psychiatry discussion.

Some anti-endos swear by the DSM5, others don't. Anti-endo is a term that means anti-endo/ endo-critical. That is all it means.

There is a difference between holding the DSM as the complete authority on mental illness and saying that a trauma disorder is caused by trauma.

I'm not sure if OP knows that and is choosing to cast anti-endos in a bad light, or legitimately confused. However, OP is a syscourse blog who is on a lot of blocklists and is spammy in the tags, and has likely been blocked by anyone who isn't also out looking to pick immature fights. (This is a system who made a post in all caps calling for an endo raid on #systempunk.)

Continuing directly from the last quote:

“[Antis] are against the liberation of plurals and deny a plural future in order to push singlethood onto others."

It's possible OP is referring to final fusion, which the anti-endo community is not a monolith on either. Most people we've interacted with are supporters of functional multiplicity (including ourselves.)

Most likely however, they mean that anti-endos "push singlethood" by telling endogenics that they can't have a trauma disorder without trauma.

And I could go into a whole tirade about that, but dozens of systems have done it before and I doubt any pro-endos have gotten this far. I am writing this for the anti-endo and on-the-fence audiences.

Visit @antimisinfo's helpful masterpost for a list of legitimate sources.

OP seems to believe that by “forcing” this singlethood, we are contributing directly to the oppression of systems. Hypocritically, OP themselves are contributing directly to the oppression of trauma victims.

Endogenics are not part of the "diverse experiences of plurality” (we are diverse, but united in origin) given that they don't exist. And if they did, they would have such a fundamentally different experience than trauma-formed systems that both groups would need separate language and tags to have space to themselves.

And endos already have a well-established punk tag for themselves. It seems they won't be happy until they chase trauma victims out of every space they create for themselves and steal every term. They've already stolen even the medical terminology used for CDDs.

The yellow stripe of the flag is meant to represent those with actual CDDs. Once again, psych stuff is brought up. However, I do agree with OP that those who do not want final fusion should not be pushed into it.

The pink and white stripes of the flag are entirely dedicated to anti-psych points. I think this would do wonderfully on it's own flag. But bringing the large range of discussion the anti-psych movement encompasses and the large range of discussion the CDD community has into the same tags is going to make it monumentally difficult to find the conversations you're wanting to have, and weaken both communities considerably.

There is a line of barbed wire across the flag that is partially for the same anti-psych movement as well as in favor of protecting and defending endogenic "identities." The ampersand stands for plurality.

There are fangs on the flag as well, encouraging systems to be loud and proud about their existence. And I agree that systems should make themselves known. However, endogenic systems don't exist, and their promotion will continue to drag us down.

I have read testimonies about traumagenic (real) systems being fakeclaimed or denied treatment by healthcare experts who, through exposure to endos, came to the conclusion CDDs are fake entirely.

Real systems seeking treatment and help after a lifetime of horrific abuse are being denied care.

Not to mention the setback of social acceptance by endos.

“Force plural liberation down the throats of others. Force the future to be plural."

[bigbuffjoonie]

SCREAMS

Okay now that I’m more normal, this fic was so thrilling! Going through the mountain pass I was holding my breath too! The feeling of dread just building up until The Splashes just -chef kiss-!! Loved everything about this and I cannot wait to see pt 2! 💕

The Obsidian Pearl (I)

— pairing: mermaid seokjin x (f) reader — word count: 7.2k — warnings: yandere, descriptions of death/blood/violence — summary: Sailing through The Dead Man’s Passage is a death sentence and the whole crew knows it. But with the ship’s stocks dwindling fast, your captain is left with no other choice. When a haunting melody makes the crew jump ship one by one, you find yourself alone with the demon lurking in the murky red water. As the creature beckons you to jump into the icy ocean – “come to me, pet” – you find that you can’t do anything but obey.

“Captain, this is a bad idea.”

A hush falls over the deck, a few whispers being passed back and forth between the crew as they watch you challenge the captain’s decision. There’s an audible gulp somewhere behind you as the captain pins you with a hard gaze, his jaw clenched tight with annoyance.

He taps the map that’s spread out in front of him, voice leaving no room for argument as he says, “This is the fastest route.”

“That may be, Captain, but it’s not worth the risk. Haven’t you heard the stories? The numerous crews that have gone missing after sailing in this area? There’s a reason it’s called The Dead Man’s passage!”

Keep reading

[mcsm-confessions]

Right, ok. So, I don't usually put any confessions on this blog, I usually just read what is on here but with all this ship discourse and people hating on rare pairs, I feel like I want to say something now.

As long as your ship isn't:

Minor x Adult

Incest

Glorifying abuse of any kind

Anything that is illegal or immoral

It's fine! I mean, for God's sake, I've seen people, including myself, ship two characters who have never canonically met. And the same goes to enemies to lovers, when done right, it's really good and quite frankly, cute.

Remember, guys. These characters are literal Minecraft blocks. Why are you attacking or just being rude to others because they wanted to ship Romeo x Jesse or something other than Jesse x Lukas/Jesse x Petra? This is nothing against those ships because I too enjoy them as well.

It just feels like this fandom needs to realise, if they don't like something, doesn't mean they have an excuse to be rude to someone. Just don't interact with it, block the tag if you need to. Just don't be rude.

Sorry for rambling in your ask box, mod. I just felt like it needed to be said, though I'm sure someone else has said this before too.

~~~

You're all good, OP. As lovely as the amount of engagement I receive from these debates is, it's also not good for any of us to fight this much. If you don't want to see something, block the tag. Fighting each other over it won't defeat the issue. Agree to disagree on which block people should kiss.

[roadkillxd]

What about Soft Dom Price and/or Ghost with a sub! Reader who has an oral fixation?

Okay, so I filled this a little differently than I usually do. It's less of a fic and more of those headcanon / imagine lists I see? I really want to try those out for smaller prompts so here goes!

↪ 1173 words — 18+ / SMUT.

Content tags — gen male submissive reader, oral fixation, finger sucking, face fucking, and cock warming.

Ghost

He’s always the one to indulge you. Spoils you with it. Likes the flood of power he gets seeing how quickly that glaze comes over your eyes just from a finger or two in your mouth. It’s about trust, too—that you trust him with that state of mind, he hasn’t had something intimate like that in God knows how long.

But he’s always initiating it. Usually when he shouldn’t be, when you’re trying to focus on something. During boring recons scoping out territory or abandoned ops stuck in a safehouse while a dust storm blows through.

Comes up behind you quiet as a ghost, always true to his name, and you feel his gloved hand snake from your bicep over your shoulder and to your cheek, his fingers teasing your lips. Sometimes they’re soft and bland—cheap soap and skin. Other times they’re calloused or scabbed over, acrid with gun oil and blood. 

He knows when the pink little tip of your tongue peaks out to curiously taste that he’s got you—presses his front flush to your back and shoves his fingers into your mouth. Makes you moan and scramble to reach back, grasping at his hips as your legs buckle.

Lets you suckle and lick to your heart’s content. Happy to push you onto your knees and provide his cock instead when you start whining around three of his fingers like they’re not enough.

His dicks got such a nice girth to it. Just heavy enough to be a calming weight on your tongue but not wide enough that your jaw strains to accommodate. There’s a pleasant ache after awhile, but he’s obsessed with touching your face, and that includes massaging your jaw as you suckle and swallow around him.

He’s more than happy to just get cock warmed by you. He always gets there eventually. From the wet heat and the feeling of your muscles working around his sensitive tip whenever you swallow. He pets your hair and groans out praise and it’s the softest you’ve ever seen him with his cock down your throat.

Despite that, his favorite position will always be you on your back while he straddles your chest. Loves to pin your wrists, crossed, above your head with one of his own big hands. Holds his free hand over your throat while he fucks it to feel that slight bulge against the skin. Likes how fucked stupid you look, eyes unfocused and glazed over and half rolled into your head. Likes that he knows you’re getting off on this just as much as he is, and he doesn’t even have to touch you for it. 

Price

Price fits into the soft dom role so well without even trying. He can be so hard and gruff out on the field. Insulting at times. Others, downright cruel. But when you come to him he can always tell what you need. Always does his best to make time for you, whether it’s 4 PM and he’s got a mound of paperwork to finish or it’s 4 AM and it’s his turn on watch but you can’t sleep.

When it’s his office, he always leans back in his rolling leather chair and examines you in the doorway. Scrutinizes you. Makes you squirm in your skin. Finally nods his head to the couch across the room with a gruff “Lock the door, grab a pillow.”

Scoots back and lets you crawl under his desk, resting on the soft, cushy pillow. You’re usually down here for a while. He knows it starts to hurt after a while. Whether you’d enjoy the ache or not, he has to keep in mind more than just the moment. Doesn’t want you limping out into drills the next day.

He loves when you nuzzle him through his fatigues, rubbing your cheek against his length as he ever so slowly starts to fill out. Loves when he unbuttons his pants enough for you to mouth wetly at his cock through the fabric of his boxers, coaxing him to full hardness as you moan and whine against him like a bitch in heat.

It’s usually those first seven minutes or so that none of the paperwork is touched, so focused on the attention your mouth gives him, his blunt fingernails scratching at the nape of your neck and making your spine tingle.

Once you finally get his cock in your mouth he scoots forward, cramping you back under the desk so he can focus on his work. It’s slow going, the wet heat of your throat at the very least distracting, but he still gets through it. Occasionally takes a sip of tea from his mug, or reaches down to pet through your hair as he writes. 

It’s not until he’s done with his work that he scoots back again. His big hands gently hold your head as he guides you up and down his cock, the only sounds in the room are his raspy, heavy breaths and the wet sounds of your lips sliding along his cock. 

Always pulls out until just the tip is in your mouth to cum with a choked gasp. Gets worried about you gagging on him when his load fills your mouth, and he likes how you suckle on the spongey tip, coaxing him through it. 

Lets you drink down his honey tea like a madman afterward to soothe your throat if you’re sore. Sits you in his lap for half an hour or so quietly talking to you until you both come down and feel more like your normal selves again.

During ops he’s usually more aggressive. He gets pent up. Stays on edge during watch in order to keep you safe. Doesn’t want anything sneaking up on him. You’re lucky he doesn’t shoot you when you come up behind him unannounced and crunch on some gravel.

There’s very few words between you two during these encounters. He’ll be leaned up against a half wall or a crate, sniper propped up to his side while you lower onto your tummy between his spread legs. 

There’s never much preamble. He pulls his cock free and you take the soft length into your mouth and moan gratefully, that fuzzy, safe feeling immediately overtaking your mind as you hollow your cheeks and suck him to hardness. 

He usually doesn’t let you cock warm him when it’s like this. Once he’s hard he’s thrusting up into your mouth, using you like a toy. A wet, hot hole to fuck. Knows you can take it, and if you can’t or want to stop that you’ll tap out. 

He doesn’t last long. Pulls out and ignores your desperate whine. Strokes himself hard and fast the rest of the way, just to decorate your pretty face with his cum. Goes back to his watch but lets you curl up against his side or in his lap to sleep. If he's feeling nice he'll let you suckle on his fingers in your sleep, or find something else for you to suck on.