#i am going to commit crimes

[atinycherrykitty]

omg i alsoooo finished one final :3 im doing another one online rn but its dumb so im taking a break 🦴

That's what I'm doing right now too!

Or what I was doing....until my toy DIED

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

I hate how when I search for “nude art” on here that I don’t get beautiful pieces done by artists who put their heart and soul into their pen or paintbrush; instead I just get a whole bunch of pornographic AI generated images. To the people who post AI generated images and call it art, where is your humanity? Is it your goal in life to insult the viewer?

[sobs] I’m just looking for decor inspiration for my apartment because I want it to look pretty

EDIT: Oh okay the tags “artistic nudity” work much better. Thank you actual artists.

[gravityghosts]

Review of the debate:

Trump, unsurprisingly, kept going off about complete bullshit

Harris looked like about how I did but kudos to her for not laughing in his face bc I absofuckinglutely would’ve. Better than Biden looking like he wanted to kill himself several times over.

Had to watch it for my social psychology class and trumps “it never would’ve happened under me” or whatever he said is literally a perfect definition for the FAE tho so at least I know what I’m talking abt for my assignment

The moderators also had me fucking dying re: “okay but the question was: do YOU have any regrets” being asked multiple time and the passive aggressive “we know the peaceful change of power is vital to our democracy” dude probs wanted to go OFF. Love the “there is No state where you can execute a baby after it’s been born” as well

Genuinely have no clue where the transgender illegal immigrants prison surgery came from but can i have one too

[trekkies-unite]

I have so many thoughts, but the most pressing is:

Costumer service Swede??????

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

I’m going absolutely insane how dare Bungo Stray Dogs be my next hyperfixation

[confused-and-dickless]

*explodes all computers with my mind*

[gremnda]

Hello Ethubs nation :]

no text version

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Trapped in a vicious cycle of pining? Try gay sex! (More things to learn over at Tiger Tiger!)

[dorenarox]

I am so hot. Not physically but chemically or something.

Listen I don't know how my body works, I just know that I have turned into a radiator. I am radiating a whole lot of heat. Why am I so hot?

[velunas]

summers in the air, heavens in your eyes

pairing: jack schlossberg x reader

summary: sex on the beach with your boyfriend jack

wc: 1.3k

warnings: smut!!! oral (f receiving), swearing, p in v sex, kinda public sex (pls do not have sex in public or on the beach u will get sand in ur vajayjay), terrible ending

a/n: WELL... listen i've been in love with jack schlossberg since like 2016 and everyone is finally realizing he's hot as fuck so here we are and i have no regrets. enjoy sinners <3

minors do not interract plz! xoxo

the air was thick and warm, the humidity making your hair stick to the back of your neck. your boyfriend jack lay beside you on his back. his eyes are shut as he basks in the sunlight. there are streaks of white on his cheeks from the sunscreen you slathered on him before he ran out to the ocean, eager to surf. a headband you lent him pushed his dark hair back, and his soft skin was now slightly darker than when you arrived that morning. 

“i can feel you staring at me, y’know.” 

he says, reaching a hand over to pinch your soft thigh. you giggle and playfully smack his arm. “didn’t realize it was weird to stare at my boyfriend.” you retort. he cracks his eyes open and turns his head to look at you. he smiles softly and opens his arms, beckoning you to sit on top of him. you comply, moving so you’re now straddling him. his large hands find home on your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the skin there. 

“hi, pretty girl.” he moves a hand to cup your cheek and tugs you down to kiss him. your mouths meet gently, moving in tandem. his tongue prods at the seam of your lips and you open them for him. he explores the inside of your mouth, groaning at your taste. “tastes like strawberry.” he mumbles between kisses.

the hand lying stagnant on your hip moves to the tie holding your bikini bottoms together, twirling the strands between his fingers. you pull away and his head chases you, silently asking for more. “jack, we’re technically in public, anyone could see us like this…” you tell him and he rolls his eyes. jack sits up and you shift down on his lap. he brings his mouth to the shell of your ear, licking it before whispering to you “seems pretty empty to me, baby.”

you look around, doing a sweep of the area to make sure it is truly empty. the beach was mostly private, a secluded location in front of the beach house that jack had rented for the weekend for the both of you. there was no one as far as your eyes could see. technically, you were on private property. if anyone saw you two together, it was practically trespassing. throwing all of your worries away, you lean back into him, connecting your mouths once more. 

he smiles into the kiss, pulling you as close to him as possible. his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you directly on top of his arousal. you groan at the feeling and grind your hips further into him. before you can protest, he flips the both of you, lying you on your back. he moves his mouth to your neck, lathering hot and wet kisses and leaving purple blemishes in his wake. he shifts down slightly, pressing kisses into your collarbones and between the valley of your breasts. 

his hands again reach for your bottoms, and jack looks up at you for permission. as soon as you nod, he slides them down your hips and slips them off, throwing them onto your towel. his hand slides up the length of your thigh, stopping at the innermost part. he hums and leans down, pressing a kiss to your pubic bone. “so pretty down here, honey.” he mutters to himself. 

with that, he devours you. his tongue snakes out to caress your clit. one hand holds your hips steady, while the other slithers down to your slit, slipping his middle finger inside of you. the pleasure you feel is burning hot, a fire that begins to burn in the pit of your stomach. a strangled cry wrings its way from your lips as jack adds a second finger. his fingers move earnestly, knowing exactly what you like and how to drag you to your peak. 

“please, jack. it’s so good. i’m so close” you whine, pushing your hips into his warm mouth. he doubles his efforts at that, sucking your clit into his mouth and quickening his fingers. you bring a hand down to his soft hair, pushing his headband off. his dark locks fall into his eyes, but you’re quick to hold them back yourself. he moans into you as you tug at the strands. 

“c’mon, sweet girl. cum for me, lemme taste it.” 

and you do. your orgasm rips through you almost violently. your hips twitch and your moans are unrestrained. his mouth relaxes and instead presses soft kisses against you as you float back to earth. he travels up the length of your body until he reaches your face, kissing your temple, cheek, and the corner of your mouth before kissing your lips. you could taste yourself on his tongue. 

his hips press into you, grinding into your naked body. he brings a hand down to quickly pull off his bottoms, jerking himself off quickly before spreading your legs. aligning himself with your hole, he pushes into you slowly, allowing you time to get used to his impressive girth. it was no secret that jack was extremely well-endowed, and no matter how many times you had sex with him, it was always an adjustment in the beginning. 

he eases into you slowly until his pubic bone is flush with your ass. he pulls back steadily, rocking back into you with restraint. “s’good, baby?” he asks. his accent is thick and his words are slurred slightly as he loses himself in pleasure. you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “it’s so good, you’re so big.”

jack speeds up his movements, slamming into you. his breathy moans invade your ears and you can feel him twitching inside of you. he pulls out of you and taps your thigh, signaling you to change positions. he lays on his back as you throw your thighs over his hips, pushing yourself down onto him again. 

he throws his head back, gripping your hips with a bruising force. if you weren’t so fucked out, you’d tell him to ease up so as not to leave finger-shaped bruises in your skin that could be so easily spotted. but the only thing that was on your mind was bringing the both of you to your orgasms, so you got to work. planting your feet, you begin to bounce on him. he thrusts his hips in time with your movements, pushing into the soft spot hidden inside of your walls. 

“god, baby. you’re so good at this. just made for me, huh? perfect little pussy that only i get to fuck.” 

you clench your thighs around his waist as you feel your climax approaching. “yeah, i’m made for you, jack. m’your girl forever.” you gasp. as if he can sense how close you are, he brings a hand up to your clit, rubbing it in quick and tight circles. he pounds his hips furiously in time with your movements. you feel him spasm inside of you, warm spurts of his spend painting your walls. that brings you to your second orgasm, convulsing above him. 

you collapse onto his chest, attempting to catch your breath. he wraps a weak arm around you, breathing heavily into your ear. the two of you come down in silence. as your breathing evens out, he presses a loving kiss on the crown of your head. “you ok, baby?” he whispers into your neck. “tired” you mumble, nestling farther into him. he tightens his hold on you before shifting to sit up, still inside of you. 

“let’s get you inside, sleepy head. we can take a nap together.” 

he lifts you off of him, and you whine at the sudden emptiness you feel. he pulls up his swim trunks and stands, grabbing your towel and wrapping you in it, guiding you back into the house to lay down and enjoy the rest of your peaceful evening together.

[userhangmanpage]

For you this is a professional accomplishment. For me... this is personal. I don't want this opportunity. I need it.

[pixelprofligate]

fuck it heres all of them so far

[kidspawn]

"what would Adam Parrish do?" I ask, during my shift because I am tired and cranky but I need the money. "What would Adam Parrish do?" I ask, when I want to sleep but I have school to work on. "What would Adam Parrish do?" I ask myself daily.

The answer should have been "buckle down and get shit done" but I guess the wires got crossed and now the Adam in my head says human sacrifice looks pretty good actually-

[vaguely-concerned]

gideon cheerfully accepting kremy using suggestion on him left and right (and also being like '*fond smile* aaaaw yeah all the good old times :)' at the implication that kremy has essentially wielded him as a bloodied blunt instrument all these years) has some. hm. kinky implications. perhaps. also narrative/character/interpersonal ones of course but the kink factor here is unspeakable.

why are you as a man freely and gleefully offering the use of your body and occasionally autonomy to another man. why would someone who fought so hard for freedom and agency find such joy and satisfaction in willing submission. who's to say! finally actually having gay sex about this would frankly be less gay than whatever sublimated thing is going on right now

[spkyart]

Lucky charm

[lost-in-fandoms]

Something from the post-apocalypse (part 1). About 1.7k.

GP knocks on the infirmary door and doesn't wait for an answer before pushing it open, motioning for Max to get in ahead of him.

The infirmary is not really a medical room, just a room they have converted into a makeshift doctor office, with a couple of cots, a desk, and several cabinets full of supplies. They don't even have doctors, not really, but they make do. In the past few years, more or less anyone has learned how to suture small wounds and determine if someone is worth dragging back to safety or if it's better to leave them for dead.

Still, they do have some people who are more expert than others, mostly because of previous knowledge, and Rupert and Brad are two of them.

He tells Max to sit down on the cot, watching as the boy lifts himself on it with a wince, and then goes to knock on a different door, hoping someone is on the other side and he doesn't have to leave Max in here to go look for them.

It must be his lucky day though, because the door opens, Brad nodding at him.

"What's up?"

GP motions towards Max, then subtly shakes his head when he sees Brad's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, mouth already open to ask questions.

"He needs a check up," he tells him, moving back next to Max. He could leave at this point, Max is unharmed and Brad is more than capable of defending himself, but he leans against the cot instead, watching as Brad drags a chair closer.

Max is sitting with his arms crossed, his expression a mix of suspicion and confusion, shoulders tense. He looks like a scared boy and it makes GP feel softer than he has in forever.

"Who are you, then?" Brad asks, motioning for Max to take his top off. It must have been a hoodie once, but it's now destroyed, covered in blood and dust.

Max doesn't move.

"I'm Max," he says, arms still crossed, "and I'm not stripping."

Brad throws GP a look, eyebrows raised again, but then brings his attention back to Max.

"If you want me to check your injuries, I gotta see them, mate."

"I don't want anything," Max snaps back, tilting his chin towards GP. "He brought me here. I already know what are my injuries you don't need to see them."

"Max," GP cuts in before Brad can reply, "let Brad do his job. I'll get you another shirt when he's done."

Max glares at him, pouting, and doesn't move.

"I am not taking my clothes off in a room with two strangers, one of which is armed. And if that means you'll throw me out, then throw me out."

This time GP is pretty sure his eyebrows are just as high on his forehead as Brad's are. He doesn't even want to start dissecting the reasoning behind Max's decision, but it's clear he won't be moved.

"Fine," Brad finally sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. "How old are you?"

"Old enough."

GP huffs and exasperated breath and clenches his teeth, trying to find patience. In some twisted way, it's almost comforting to know teenagers haven't changed in the apocalypse either.

"I'm eighteen."

Max's voice is much quieter, and when GP snaps his attention back at him, he notices his whole demeanor has shifted, shoulders curled inwards and eyes low. It's only when he sees his gaze jump between GP's hands and the gun on his side that he realises that Max is scared.

GP is an armed stranger, who was clearly annoyed at him, and Max is scared. Fuck.

GP works to relax his face, crossing his arms so his hands are away from his weapons.

"Thank you, Max," he says, as gently as possible. It seems to surprise Max, but the boy still relaxes a little, so GP will count it as a win.

"Since you don't want to show me, can you tell me where you're hurt?" Brad asks, bringing them back on track. When GP looks at him he's already looking back, a million questions in his eyes. GP is glad he can't ask them at the moment, because he doesn't think he has any answers.

"I have some cuts, most of them from glass. The worst one is here," Max points at his side, almost on his hip, "which I stitched up, but I don't know if I did a good job. My ribs hurt, don't know what's with them, and I think I have a sprained ankle. Left one."

If the list fazes Brad, he doesn't show it, nodding along Max's words.

"Alright. If your ribs hurt, it would help me to touch them, and see if they're broken, same with your ankle. And for the stitches, I would really need to see them. Do you think there's glass in the cuts?"

Max shrugs, apparently uncaring.

"Not sure. I think not."

Brad nods again.

"Okay. What can I do to make you comfortable enough to get your shirt off so I can check?"

For a long moment, Max doesn't answer, looking at Brad appraisingly, then uncrosses his arms, pointing towards GP.

"He goes. And you show me you have no needles on you."

GP tries his best not to show a reaction, despite unease curling in his gut.

"I'll go get you some clean clothes and some soap. I'll be back."

Brad does something complicated with his face that GP doesn't bother trying to interpret as he heads towards the door. The last things he sees before shutting it behind him, it's Brad emptying his pockets on the table next to the cot.

--

When GP comes back, a change of clothes and some other things tucked into a satchel in his hands, Max is still sitting on the cot, but he's now shirtless and shoeless, sharp eyes following Brad's movements as he grabs some supplies from the drawers.

"Oh, perfect timing!" Brad says when GP knocks, turning around with a smile. "I want him to shower before I put some bandages on him."

Max doesn't seem too thrilled about the idea, or about GP being back in the room, but he jumps off the cot anyway, ignoring Brad's surprised exclamation, extending his hand for the things GP is carrying.

"This way," GP tells him, refusing to give them to him as he guides him to the closest showers, noticing the way Max's steps drag a little. He would offer him help, but he doesn't think Max would do well with feeling weak, so he marches on, pulling a door open and ushering Max inside.

The showers are near the infirmary for a good reason, and he's been often happy about it. When he sees the pallor of Max's face and the way he holds onto the wall as he waits for instructions, he feels glad about it all over again.

"Water turns off automatically after 7 minutes, but if you need more to get clean just yell and I will sort it out," GP tells him, pulling the shower curtain from one of the stalls to the side and placing the soap on the floor.

"I'll leave this," he adds, raising the satchel, "right here. There's a towel and a change of clothes, hopefully they fit. If they don't, yell and I'll sort it out. I'll be right outside."

Max nods, but doesn't move, eyes fixed somewhere on GP's left.

"Max," GP calls, waiting until the boy finally looks at him, "I won't come in and nobody else will come in, unless you yell or I have reasonable belief you have passed out. Okay?"

"Loud and clear," Max mumbles, but GP sees his shoulders relax just a tad. He really needs to talk to Jonathan and figure out where the hell he's been to become this wary.

He knows the world isn't a kind place right now, hell, he's lived in worse places than this since the apocalypse started, but he doesn't like the idea of a kid being this tense about something easy as a shower.

He opens his mouth, wanting to ask Max, wanting to say anything that could reassure him at all, but then he thinks better of it, simply turning around and exiting the bathroom, firmly closing the door behind him.

For a while, he doesn't hear anything.

There's the usual sounds of The Garage, the mechanical whirr of the fans, the buzzing of the lights, the echo of someone's step walking down the corridors somewhere on his right, far away enough he can't point out who it might be. But nothing from the bathroom.

After five minutes he's almost tempted to open the door, check that Max is still alive, when he finally hears the groaning of the pipes that signal the water being turned on.

After seven minutes he holds his breath, waiting for Max to call for more water, but there's nothing but silence. He waits, listening tensely, but the next thing he hears is the sound of the handle being pulled down and the door opening.

He steps away from the wall he'd been resting against, and meets Max's eyes. He looks...different. The layer of blood and grime is gone, leaving his skin pink, like he scrubbed hard to clean it. Now that his face is clean it's clear that there's no trace of a stubble on his cheeks, just some acne on his neck, and on his forehead, where his hair is flopping wetly. The hoodie GP had brought him is too big, sleeves dropping down to the tip of his fingers.

He looks young. He looks like a kid. A skinny kid with bags under his eyes and scrapes all over.

GP's heart clenches.

"All done?" he asks, more softly than he intended to.

Max nods, looking down at where he's holding the wet towel and his ruined clothes.

"Where..." he starts, hesitantly.

"Unless you're particularly attached to those clothes I'd say we can throw them away, and I'll take care of the towel," GP interrupts him, extending his hand to take them.

Max doesn't flinch at the movement, but it's close enough, muscles stiffening until he visibly forces himself to relax, handing everything over.

"You can throw them," he tells him, looking even more lost now that he doesn't have anything to hold.

GP nods, throwing everything back into the satchel and turning around, worried about what expression might be on his face.

"Come on, let's get back to Brad, and then I'll find you some food."

"Thank you," Max murmurs, so low GP can barely hear him.

"Of course, kid. Come on."