#stolen bicycles

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Bicycle Thief Sentenced." Kingston Daily Standard. July 17, 1912. Page 5. --- Three additional months were added by Judge McDonald today at Brockville to the sentence of one year and 260 days imposed yesterday on Frank Grey for the theft of bicycles. Grey was brought before Acting Magistrate Patterson charged with breaking jail and was committed for trial. Later he was brought before the judge and when asked why he made the attempt Grey replied that the open front door of the court house was such a temptation that he thought he would take the chance.

[kunosoura]

I’d be more sympathetic to people criticizing the lack of clarity or seriousness in anti civ critiques if those same people weren’t usually causing a huge part of the problem by calling anyone with any serious notion of degrowth a genocidal ecofascist primitivist boogeyman.

[pseudophan]

you have no idea how lucky you are for finding the laptop holy shit a few weeks ago my friend had his car stolen + everything inside of it which included his work macbook that was borrowed from his job + personal documents etc and ever since then when i leave my car i quadruple check if every single door is closed properly lmao

omg yeah i mean i talk a lot of shit about this place but one thing i'll say is people are overwhelmingly honest here, like i've yet to lose something of any value and not get it back. and i lose things all the time lmao. though one time a few years ago my mum's car got broken into and they tried to hotwire it but couldn't get it to work so instead they stole the 1996 car radio and one bottle of pepsi max from a four pack in the backseat

[aprillikesthings]

Being in a relationship with a sizable age gap is mostly not any different from any relationship.

(I am 44 and Daci is 29, and they started flirting with me when we were 39 and 24.)

But tonight I was bicycling home from work and the combo of music I was listening to and the smells outside reminded me of going to Midnight Mystery Rides in like 2009, getting drunk and/or high surrounded by other people on bicycles and having fun.

So I’m having a moment of hardcore nostalgia, right? And then remember I was 29 that year. Which is how old Daci is.

[burritowitch]

seeing kids from my school posting about going to venice as tourists is so funny to me actually

[theflyingfeeling]

when I felt happy and carefree again for a while

(= a concert report of a kind from BC @ Särkänniemi 11.8.2023 🖤)

- First things first, the weather report: partly cloudy most of the time, not too warm but not too cold either (until maybe after the gig; I knew I didn't pack my super sexy gloves in vain 😌)

- The atmosphere was rather chill at the amusent park where the concert was held, so we had a chance to hang about and even go to exactly one ride lol (which was quite enough for us and we actually had a fun time and really put the amusement in amusement park tyvm, unlike the other (10-ish) people in the ride who looked like they'd rather be literally anywhere else)

- Also @wearenosaints and I were asked to give our extremely coherent and otherwise correct opinions about the Back To School event to the press like the very important people we are so yeah if you see our faces on the paper tomorrow that's us hiiiii 👋

- I was pleasantly surprised to get MUCH better spots than what I had last time BC played at Särkänniemi (=couldn't see shit from the stage being so low and all the phones and fucking CARDBOARD SIGNS blocking our view), our spots were rather excellent tbh, at least in comparison to what I was expecting

- ...aaaaaaand then the cardboard signs appeared 🙂

- So yeah if anyone was filming a video at that time (just before BC came on stage), the collective voi vittu! that can probably be heard in the background when the signs first appeared that was definitely us hiiiii 👋

- I know the five months between my previous BC show and this one is a short time in the grand scheme of things I guess but I assure you it's felt like half a lifetime at least, so it was an exciting moment to see all the guys run on stage one by one, I was so thrilled about seeing them with my bare eyeballs again that I was surprised everytime any of them showed up lol, for example I think Joonas was the last one I saw and it took a while for him to come to our side of the stage too, so I was like "oh yay Porko's here too!" as if I had forgotten he's in the band as well 😂

- We saw a LOT of Olli and 😩😩😩😩 he's such a sexy motherfucker that I'm actually mad about it. I love how he really puts his whole goddamn pussy into the show, and the way he's so flirty sjfjfjkfkfkffk for a while I thought he had, you know, someone special watching him from the side of the stage because he kept flirting and making faces towards someone on his left side the whole fucking time, but then I figured Santeri was filming there so I guess he was just flirting with the camera like the common slut he is <3

- (and this totally did not give me any fic ideas about flirty!Olli and jealous!Allu 👀)

- Speaking of Aleksi: 😩😩😩😩😩

- He's nice-looking alright although I've never really been that attracted to him, but literally the first time I saw him tonight I was like 'well damn, Aleksi looks fine as hell?' 😩😩😩😩 the hair he has now looks sooooooo good on him, the shirt he was wearing really brought out his tits made him look rather desirable in my eyes, I may have an itsy-bitsy crush on him now byeeeee 💀

- idk man being there just felt a bit like coming home? 😭 there weren't any surprises in the setlist but honestly I didn't expect there to be, it was sort of comforting actually to know exactly how it was going to go and the guys seemed happy about playing in Finland again as well (Niko: "Everyone here knows our songs!!" 😂🥰)

- They also teased us about the Nokia Arena show that's apparently happening at some point in (near?) future 👀 I mean, don’t quote me on this lol they didn't spill any actual deets but it's gotta be Nokia Arena right? I mean, what else could it be lol

- But yeah. Lately there's been so much stuff in my life that's been stressing me out and making me feel uneasy and worried and some of it even a little sad (just earlier today I had to fight back tears in the bus because I was upset about something that had happened I know I shouldn't be upset about and yet...), but during the show? None of that shit mattered. For those 60 minutes, I was so completely happy and carefree again 🖤

- Many thanks to the peeps who tolerated my bad jokes today and only made little fun of my cool and sexy gloves, you know who you are and I love you <3

- See you next week 🤝

[falsenote]

20 minutes into the bicycle thieves

[filosofablogger]

Good People Doing Good Things -- Little Things Mean A Lot

16-year-old Gabe has autism and his bicycle was his ticket to freedom and solace, providing him with an outlet to express himself and find tranquility in a world that can often be overwhelming.  He once told his mother that when he was riding, it was the only time his brain was quiet. And then one day a few weeks ago, Gabe’s bicycle was stolen, and Gabe was heartbroken. The story made the local…

[liberlandtv]

The forestry company stole the #Liberland #settlers' #bicycles and other #equipment with the support of #Croatian #police ‼️🚨🚨🚨

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"TROISIÈME ARRESTATION," La Patrie. April 21, 1943. Page 22. --- Une troisième arrestation a été opérée par les agents de la Sûreté provinciale, agissant sous les ordres du directeur adjoint Louis Jargaille, dans l'affaire de Lachute

Lors de la capture des deux premiers suspects, qui comparaissaient aujourd'hui en Cour à St-Jérôme, un troisième s'était sauvé et la police annonce que celui-là fut repris. Cette fois l'inculpé est âgé de 16 ans. Il sera traduit en Cour avec les deux autres. La police ai de plus, retrouvé trois bicyclettes et un moteur électrique près de la ferme de M. Turcotte, où l'attentat fut commis.

[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

lot of morons on this website don't understand the concept of resource allocation.

[itheunknown]

odi et amo - (01) all i had

negelected! meta! reader x platonic! batfam masterlist / prev / next

(TW) : emotional neglect, self-destructive behaviour, self-harm, suicide, depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms, underage smoking, underage drinking, alcohol abuse, depression, bpd, depictions of mental illness, violence, trauma, ...

the wind was howling.

your bag felt heavy on your shoulders as you brisked through the night, flickering street lights as your only source of light. your phone died a while back, but it's fine since you knew every nook and cranny of the route from your workplace back to your aunt's apartment. 

you've had a pretty shitty day so far: customers yelling in your face about things out of your control, your bicycle getting stolen (again) rendering you having to travel back on foot, and on top of that, you have exams coming up this week.

all you could let out was a tired sigh while trying to revise the material under your breath.

just as you're about to turn the knob of the apartment door, looking forward to finally getting some sleep before having to drag yourself to school that starts in a few hours, the door swings open violently and you stumble back, startled. the sight of your aunt gripping the door while holding a broken bottle greets you as she stands there with an unsettling and wild look in her eyes, her tone final.

“get in the car, now.”

sitting in gotham’s police department with the background noise feels distant, everything is incoherent, too much noise, too much light, just too much.

you feel hollow.

can’t wrap your head around the series of events that had just occurred, alternating between gnawing your lips and picking your fingers, the chatter zoned in and out as you just sat there, not knowing what was to come.

you don’t know how long you've sat there while the police were making phone calls and running through their data records of you after taking multiple different samples 2 days ago in order to decide where they should toss you to next. you’ve been placed under watch just so they could make sure there were no complications from the injuries you sustained, practically living in the station. it wasn’t that bad, the GCPD was well-insulated, safe, and you’re given food to eat for free (not that you can taste anything). it’s much better than being left to fend for yourself in the streets.

you know you should be planning on what to do next, but your brain feels like tv static, nothing making sense. you had worked so hard despite the circumstances you were in, tried to make the best out of the shitty cards dealt. you weren’t happy, but you were in control, you had a plan. work hard, save up, get a degree and move the fuck out of this godforsaken city. start over.

staring at the ground, a pair of shoes enters your vision.

“your labs came back, we got your DNA results.”

this was not what you had in mind.

you’ve never been in a car this luxurious before. the man who introduced himself as alfred, the wayne’s family butler, your father's butler, was seated in the front driving to your supposed new home. you stare outside, gaze unfocused, arms cradling your backpack close to your chest - your entire life in it: your school supplies and a few other personal items, while the rest remains at your aunt’s apartment - that is currently taped off by police and under investigation. eyes trained on the passing view outside, you feel bad for alfred who’s tried to strike up conversation to get to know you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to elaborate on your short responses. you hope he doesn’t take it too personally.

before you knew it, the car rolled to a stop outside the wayne manor. grabbing your bag, you trail behind the butler, the feeling of dread suddenly consumes your entire being.

“i do apologize for the absence of master bruce, young miss. i’m certain if he weren’t caught up with this current case, you would've received a personal welcome from your father himself", he gave you an apologetic smile.

you nodded in response, not really processing his words despite the tiny feeling of disappointment felt as you step foot into the grand yet empty manor. your presence a stark contrast to the fancy room you've entered.

however, you do look forward to seeing your new family: your father and siblings that alfred mentioned in brief, insisting for you to get to know them yourself while singing them high praises.

maybe this was the start over you needed. maybe you'll finally know what it's like to be loved.

you should've known then.

expectations only lead to disappointment.

you're tired, so very tired.

you're done.

nothing feels worth it anymore.

you don't have it in you to continue.

feet dangling off the crumbling abandoned building, you feel oddly at peace. everything is quiet. everything feels right, no responsibilities, no burdens, no more. you've decided.

for once in your life, you feel assured, this is the most optimal solution.

for once in your life, you're looking forward to something.

death must be so peaceful, lay buried within the earth, surrounded by silence. no yesterday, no today, no tomorrow. forget time, forgive life.

you'd be no more.

the wind is howling.

you stand up, staring down the steep drop. standing tall, unafraid, certain.

everything was quiet.

you're ready.

you shuffle closer to the edge, one foot hovering off as you will your other foot to do the same, fighting against your body's survival instinct. you're finally doing something for yourself.

"that's a big drop."

you stumble forward in surprise, nearly falling off until a hand grabs the back of your shirt, pulling you back further from the edge. you're stunned speechless, turning to see the source of the whistling voice.

"that's pretty ballsy of you, kid, i gotta admit."

this is embarrassing.

still unable to form any response, you let out a strangled noise in return as he let go of your shirt.

why the hell is one of gotham’s vigilante here.

an uncomfortable silence ensues, you don't know what to say, occasionally glancing up at the masked vigilante while you shifted your weight from one foot to another, feeling awkward.

just as you're about to try and weasel your way out of the situation, he beats you to it.

"nice spot! how'd you even get in?"

he asks casually while stretching and looking around. you don't know what to say.

"it's a still a weekday tomorrow , don't you have school? your parents must be worried you're out here."

your aunt is still waiting for you to return with your half of the pay for the rent. you have an assignment due tomorrow that's worth 10% of your final grade. there's nothing to look forward to.

"...i guess?"

now, you're uncertain, not knowing whether he genuinely didn't understand the implications of your actions or trying to lighten the severity of the situation.

he's uncertain.

he doesn't know how to approach this. he's never had to deal with this before.

you can tell by the strained smile and tensed posture that he also doesn't know what to do. somehow, you appreciate it. the situation is somewhat amusing now that you think about it. one of gotham's most dedicated vigilante standing in an abandoned building trying his best to stop a nobody from ending their insignificant life.

you almost let out a chuckle.

the vigilante bends down to pick up your discarded bag that was tossed to the side, handing it to you. you mumble your thanks, grabbing it and swinging it over your shoulders.

hesitantly, he places his hand on your much smaller frame. his voice warm and soft.

"go home. i'm sure someone is waiting for you."

you've waited for a year.

surrounded by the four walls of your assigned bedroom in the more cold, desolated part in the manor. you didn’t really mind, this arrangement was a blessing in disguise as it turned out, or maybe this arrangement was what turned you into the person you’ve become.

you don’t think you’re a great person, but you weren’t bad either, so you don’t understand why no one in the wayne manor would give you their time of day. sure, you were never reduced to begging for life necessities and having to bust your ass off at some sketchy restaurant working under legal age, while also balancing school work - this was objectively a far better environment for a person to live in compared to when you lived with your aunt. 

but was it wrong to want to be noticed by your own family? against your better judgement, you dared to hope.

you hoped to feel the warmth and care of what being tied by blood could grant. you hoped for an embrace, you hoped for company, you hoped for compassion, you hoped for connection. you hope and hope and hope, all you did was hope, until your memory was mostly filled with what you hoped, until you finally understood you were with them yet you were alone.

you had no place in their life.

just like the day you first arrived, bruce wayne, your father, was always busy. a persona to upkeep in the public eye, an enterprise to maintain, and his children to look after, to be a worthy role model.

but not you, never you.

despite alfred’s effort in trying to arrange for you two to get to know each other in the first week, there was never time. you were trying to wrap your head around the drastic changes that happened, from the procedures of transferring  schools, collecting what little belongings you had from the police station after the investigation, and quitting your job. meanwhile, bruce was still busy chasing leads to his case, determined that he was close to solving whatever it was. it took another week for you to stand in front of bruce’s door, wanting to formally introduce yourself and express your gratitude for taking you in, even if he was legally obligated to. when you finally saw him, you dared to hope. standing in front of you was your father, someone who shared your features. you see him, you see yourself. 

you could never forget the look in his eyes.

it was clear he had no idea who your mother was, but it was fine, you didn’t know her either. your desire to get to know him was not returned. was this what having a father is meant to be like? he couldn’t care less about you. all he did was run you through the ground rules of the house, who to go to if you were to request something, to inform him if you needed anything.

you needed him to look at you.

tim drake was the next person you encountered, your slightly older brother. you hoped that with the proximity in age, it would be easier to connect to him. however, it always seemed like he was preoccupied with something more important, he could not even be bothered to pretend to show interest when you had introduced yourself. you felt small, both in the figurative and literal sense. he was undoubtedly intelligent and talented. you’ve seen the way bruce look at him, actually hold a conversation with him. he was deserving, nothing you could measure to. bruce actually looked at him.

why does nobody look at you?

then you ran into jason todd. to your knowledge, he does not primarily reside within the manor anymore, which would explain why you haven’t really seen him around at all. it doesn’t explain why your first encounter with him was assuming a burglar had snuck in through the window at 3 in the morning. you had nearly dropped your cup of coffee, hearing a brief commentary on how there was another caffeine addict in the house before leaving the kitchen with you still holding your breath in shock. you can’t form a solid opinion on him since you barely see him.

in stark contrast, you had met richard grayson, or dick. the ever sweetest and most amazing older brother that any younger sibling would dream to have. you do too, seeing how much of a brother he was to the other members of the house, but not to you.

never to you.

you’d like to blame him for blindly hoping for things to be different, with his empty promises when he accidentally runs into you while on his search for someone else, and small talk when he’s waiting for something. you catch your father’s appreciative glances towards him sometimes, when dick helps out with managing your siblings.

especially damian al ghul, your half-brother. you were excited to have a younger blood sibling, not that the others were any less important to you, but merely for the delusion that blood could bring you together.

blood meant nothing.

damian was introduced after you were brought in, and his last name was promptly changed into wayne. your encounter was different from the others, him being the only one that sought you out first. again, you had hoped. trying to hide your excitement, you had mistakenly thought he was different from the others, your flesh and blood. 

it’s all the same.

damian had berated your existence, bringing up how you were so unworthy of being a wayne you had yet to receive your father’s last name. you stood there listening to everything he had to say. your flesh and blood.

you admired his strong personality and ability to assert what he wanted. you were complete opposites. it’s no surprise that that’s why he was worthy of the last name.he ended up being the one who had interacted with you the most, even if it was mostly him bullying you. secretly, you held him dear, seeing resemblance between damian and your aunt. he was your flesh and blood.

cassandra cain was yet another sibling you falsely assumed having something in common would bring you two closer. but at this point, you no longer had it in you to put effort in forming a connection with anyone else, worn down by the countless times you’ve been casted aside. 

you remain in the shadows, watching them carry on their daily lives, watched the life you had desperately wanted to be part of but found it impossible. you don’t belong with them, you don’t belong anywhere.

their silence made you feel forgettable.

do you even exist if no one remembers you?

the wind is howling.

and so are the voices.

i don't think im a good story teller since i mostly wrote analytical essays ^^' hopefully it makes sense like who let them (me) cook?? likes and reblogs are appreciated!!

(TAGLIST) lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist :heh:

@confused-they @hoeinthehouse @heartjwonie @strwberryglass

[m-ilkiee]

Guys my age don't do it like you Do- Sano Shinichiro

pairing: Shinichiro Sano x fem reader

warning: nsfw, angsty fluff, fem!reader, slight age gap,  implied cunnlingus, office sex, vanilla to rough sex, slight dumbification, creampie, one mention of pregnancy, Shinichiro and Reader being softies.

R-18+ minors dni

author's notes: this is set two days before Shinichiro dies. do with that information what you will.

word count: 2.1k

masterlist || taglist

  THE memory of you is committed deep in Shinichiro's brain.

Ten years from today, he had saved you from a group of boys that had stolen your pink princess bicycle and tried to beat you up because you wanted it back. To a ten year old you, the fourteen year old Shin sporting a black eye while dragging your bicycle back to you, even offering to walk you home was nothing short of a handsome hero - with a ridiculous haircut. Nonetheless, it was more than enough to have you follow him around with hearts in your eyes and undying admiration from your lips whenever you saw him.

Shin didn't think much of it at first -you were a kind girl and you gave him quite thoughtful gifts- he may not have liked you romantically at that time, but it was nice to have some sort of positive attention from a girl, even if you were just young and naive. Even when his friends began to tease him about it - About you being the only girl that would ever want to date him- he would never chase you away; you were too sweet for him to just shut you out like that.

He indulged you even despite his friends' warning him to leave you alone, taking you on a bike ride for your sixteenth birthday, dinner on your seventeenth and granting you your sole wish for him to steal your first kiss on the eighteenth birthday. The more you grew, the more he indulged you and the greedier you both became. No longer were you the cute but nerdy girl that clung to his legs when you saw him. No. Now, you were gorgeous, your body filled out in the right places, your face contorted and lips open as your fingers dug into his scalp while he lapped the juices emanating from your folds, his thumb playing with the sensitive nub resting between your labia.

This wasn't supposed to feel wrong. Shin's just four years older than you, he's seen worse age gaps than this on those documentaries he watched with you while you were sulking about your first break up with a bastard that couldn't even make you cum. The both of you are in your twenties and you're just two adults giving into your desires.

But why does everyone make him feel so guilty for wanting you?

Shinichiro pulls away from your puffy lips much to your displeasure, his jaw stained with slick and the cum from your two prior orgasms, darkened eyes staring into yours with a pussy drunk expression written all over his features. Your mouth opens to say something when he glides up your body, fingers dancing on the skin of your legs with him hovering above you. His lips brushes your own in a ghost kiss and trails to your jaw, grazing it lightly and suckling on the spot eagerly.

"Oh Shin-"

The sound of your breathy moans resonnating in his ears goes straight to his already stiff hard cock. Shinichiro is quick to bunch up your long skirt high enough to reveal your bare cunt completely and grind his clothed length on it, a groan emanating from his throat to your ears. Sounds of heavy breathing bounce of the walls as he lowers his lips to the curve of your neck, sucking the sweet spot with good precision.

A craddle robber- that's what Takeomi had called Shin when you hurriedly left his shop one day with shaky legs and speckles of cum dotting your long maxi skirt. He said it with a light hearted tone but the way the eyes of his friends in the room judged him that day made Shin realise that maybe he is one -taking advantage of your undying interest in him to turn that crush into affection and devotion for only him. After that day, he was hesitant to touch you, until today when you came here and asked softly if he didn't want you anymore.

He didn't realise when he had you face up on his desk with his tongue in your pussy, muffling against your skin about how badly he wants you repeatedly.

"-want you inside Shin."

Your airy voice begging for his cock snapped him out of his thoughts and back to reality. He raised his head up from the crook of your neck to stare at your pretty face again, memorizing the fucked out expression etched onto it for future reference when he's alone and thinking about you. His hands tilts your chin upwards and his lips meet yours in a brief kiss before pulling away.

"You're sure about this, sweetheart?" Shin asks in a gentle voice, pressing his forehead against yours. "You know it's been a while since we did it." His tone is shaky with need - a primal urge to ride you until you're a quaking mess underneath him. Shinichiro just wants to be sure you were ready for another round of him losing his mind the moment your velvelty walls rubs against his hardened cock. He would never do anything with you without asking if you're okay with it, even if it's to hold your hand.

"Shin please," your voice is desperate, begging almost, and instinctively, he lowers his lips to kiss the stray tear rolling down your cheek away. "I need your cock inside me. 'need it s'bad."

How could he say no to your teary gaze?

Shinichiro works down his button and zipper just enough to let his lengthy cock spring free, slapping your inner thigh lightly. You don't get to admire him for long, his fingers grasping your chin to make eye contact with him. "Eyes on me, sweetheart," His voice is practically dripping with lust at this point, completely immersed in the intimate moment with you as he coats his cock with the slick from his pre and your cum. Your lips part slightly as his bulbous cockhead nudges your opening before pushing in inch by inch. Your nails dig into his biceps, trying to anchor yourself back to earth from the painful, yet delicious stretch of his gentle prodding.

"You're doing so well baby," he coos softly, still pushing into you until he bottoms out. You can feel him completely, all the curves of his cock, the way your walls accomodate all the ridges of it, the way his tip nudges at your sweet spot. Your teary eyes once again meet his gaze mixed with lust and adoration for you, waiting for your command to let him move.

This moment feels perfect; Shinichiro is so close to you that you can smell a mixture of engine oil, cedar wood and nicotine emanating from him. You bury your head into the crook of his neck, letting the pain give into pleasure, only focusing on the man with you right now.

It's always been him. Only him.

"Sh-shin, m-move-"

The first thrust sends your already sensitive body on fire. Shinichiro knows your body enough to start the thrusts of his hips at a pace that has your eyes seeing stars. The loud sinful noises of skin slapping skin and the scraping of Shin's office desk while he fucks into you is a telltale sign of what's happening right now between the two of you.

Calloused hands tilt your head back to expose your neck to his hungry lips, kissing and sucking on the slope of your neck, making your pussy is fluttering against his cock. "More, more, more." You whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing him closer to feel his cockhead brush against your pleasure spot at a better angle. "Shin fuck me harder, please-"

Air leaves your lungs as he gave a powerful thrust, and followed it up with another and another, his pace maddening, fast and wild, making your legs shake and tremble. Broken, choked moans is all that comes out of your lips as he continues to fuck you faster, while peppering kisses all over your neck and your chest. His hands move down your body and grips your shaking hips down, forcing you to stay in place and he goes deeper until you see the hilt of his dick practically buried inside you.

Shin's far gone, far too pussy drunk to remember he's not wearing a condom and he's supposed to pull out. All he can hear is himself groaning and you babbling his name "Shin, Shin, Shin" like a prayer with a fucked out, pleasure filled expression driving him to the edge. His hips are stuttering and his balls feel tight, but he'll be damned to let go if you haven't come first.

"Be good f'me," it's a command, Shinichiro's deep voice reverbating in your ears has your legs shaking even the more. "Be good f'me and cum"

Your friends always told you that if Shinichiro asked you to jump in a lake, you would it without hesitation. You denied it of course, sure you liked him, but it wasn't to the point you would become some kind of brainless puppet for him to use. Your friend never did like Shinichiro in the first place, she felt he was messing around with your feelings.

But now, as you're spamsing against his cock, your pussy fluttering and your breathing loud and heavy while he helps you ride out your orgasm, you realise you're in too deep with Shinichiro.

Shin's high starts as yours begins to end. You wince from sensitivity at his rather erractic thrusts and soon, you feel hot semen shooting into your warm cunt in spurts, a gutteral moan emanating from his lips as he pumps into you until he's spent as well.

You're the first to catch your breath. Your eyes flutter open to see Shin's dark ones fixated on your form sprawled across his desk, his hands barely keeping him from collapsing onto your body. You release his biceps from your grip and trail your hands to his face, tilting his head forward for a deep kiss. One hand comes behind your head and pushes your lips closer until you can feel your tongues and teeth clashing with each other, the taste of your cum still present on his tongue.

He is the first to pull away from your lips, his chest still heaving from the excitment and thrill of taking you right here in his office. He stares at you once again as you sit up to be more comfortable, lips swollen, marks all over your neck and your neatly parked hair roughed up, you look so gorgeous in his eyes. "Cute" He mutters underneath his breath, pulling out his flaccid cock from you. "You're really cute."

You feel flustered at his words and even more flustered when you feel some cum trickle down your thighs as well. Shin's eyes trailed to the cum leaking down your thighs and the wheels turned in his head, trying to figure out what he was forgetting until it clicked.

"Oh my god, did I just get you pregnant-"

It was your turn to laugh at his expression. Here was the guy of your dreams who had just fucked the senses out of you, panicking that he hadn't pulled out, with his cock still hanging out of his fly. His eye twitched at your unbothered expression. "How's this funny? You're supposed to be mad-"

His whiny voice only made you giggle louder, before bursting out into full-on laughter. His expression becomes sour and you stop laughing at him before he starts crying, again. "I'm on the pill, Shin." You coo, helping him tuck his cock back into his boxers and zipping his fly up. "I told you this when you were pushing me on the table."

"Oh." He replies with a blank expression, before slapping his hand to his face and shaking his head, embarrassment seeping onto his facial features. Deciding to hide his embarrassment from you, he started walking away. "I'll get you a clean towel, hold on."

You don't stop looking at him until he disappears to the washroom and comes back with a clean towel like he said he will. Your heart thuds against your chest as you watch him clean between your thighs gently, his eyes focused on his work like you were his favourite bike on display.

You've overheard his friends telling him that it was wrong to want you, to touch you and to love you. But the man cleaning between your thighs, and pressing soft kisses on your knees while doing so, the man that is trailing his soft eyes to look at your face with a small smile on his lips, is not wrong for loving you.

"You're staring." You smile back at him, resting your hand on his head gently. He doesn't stop looking at you, instead, he stands to his full height and leans close to you again, discarding the rag aside. You feel his hot breath fan your face as he leans in closer to whisper "I love you" for the first time ever.

As you capture his lips with yours in response to his confession, he can't help but think that you being in his arms feels just right.

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[t34-mt]

im not finishing it / fixing the wonky parts sorry, sketch featuring on'maa, ref for AF 2024

Diesel bicycles, "motorbikes" if you want, were a thing in GA for courier carriers.although models being stolen and used by civils and resistance movements was also a thing. usually being customised with special symbols, paint, or even ribbons depending on the culture the resistance group were from.

altuyur has no roads, so cars weren't a thing, but small engines like these powered by diesel were for a short time. After GA the diesel bikes weren't produced anymore, and weren't going to be for several decades after (and when they are id like to find an alternative to diesel fuel).

Models dating back from GA were left to rot in the wild or in someone's home, engineers who knew how to take care of them were few and finding and contacting one could be near impossible. Reminder, there is no industrial revolution things like these would take 5-10 years to be made, there is no phone, no internet, not even electricity. However, GA does birth radio communication through selectively breeding mycelium specimens and the making of immense linked mycelium networks.

motorbikes for kyhuines are just smaller, mierthri kyhuine species cannot ride the bike of land kyhuines because of their anatomy, small size and proportions

programs used: ms paint sketch, then FA for coloring quicker

[sobaka74]

One day my friend bebelkich and I checked out a post about an idea for a second installment (DE slur) that the creators wanted to make before the studio was stolen. Kim was supposed to be the main character there, and I was thinking….. It's too easy, what if we were playing as some new character and then at the end of the game there's a FURIOUS COMEBACK of these two blockheads and…. …they get hit by a Kamaz.

That's cool, right? And my brain agreed with me. It was late, and what do you think - I dreamed that those biba and boba got hit by some kid on a bicycle.

I thought that such a cool story shouldn't go to waste, so I decided to sketch out an idea in 5 minutes and…. well…. I gone for a few weeks.

[phantomrose96]

It is a forum discussion of a community article. A cyclist killed in the street by a car making a right turn. "What a stupidly dangerous mode of transportation. It shouldn't be allowed."

It strikes me. This idea that biking is dangerous. "Stupidly dangerous." The bike is not dangerous. The bike killed no one. It is 20 pounds. Inanimate on its own. Were I driven by some hypothetical bloodlust, with intent to kill hounding my pedals, I could maybe, at best, reach 18 mph. I could maybe, at best, knock someone over. I could skin their knees. Skin my knees.

(You could kill them!) if I knocked them into the street. I could kill them if I knocked them over (into the street). I could die if I knocked myself over (into the street). The bicycle is still 20 pounds. The bicycle still did none of the killing. What stolen glory are we assigning it. Why are we ignoring the 2-ton death machine in the streets which does all the killing in every circumstance here.

The bicycle is not dangerous. We push for bike lanes and they push back over losing parking. (You're the death machine here. You, in the car, not me.) The bicyclist is a brazen and entitled pedestrian to them. And a pedestrian is someone who should already yield mind body and soul to cars (the death machines. the stupidly dangerous mode of transport.) Pedestrians, who have already yielded so much to a society that favors and loves and prioritizes cars (the things doing the killing.) Bikes and pedestrians are so so dangerous at getting themselves killed. They need to act accordingly.

"What a stupidly dangerous mode of transportation" it would take an assassin, clever and creative and with both enough time and incentive, to find any way to kill someone with my bike. Your car kills without missing a beat. What a stupidly dangerous mode of transportation your car is. Stop killing us with them.