Tumgik
#gender flat earth
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
--
Tumblr media Tumblr media
--
Tumblr media
--
Tumblr media
--
Tumblr media
--
At this point, Pseudo-Scientific American is basically as reliable as The National Enquirer.
This is what ideological takeover looks like.
687 notes · View notes
shreksnuts · 1 year
Text
sex denialism - should we fear it?
a specter is haunting the public sphere - the specter of sex denialism.
if you’ve been keeping up with the kardashians - or just with what’s been going on in the media lately - you may have stumbled upon a brand new term: “sex denialism”. some people love it, some hate it, some are afraid of it - and it seems to have caused quite the outrage in the scientific community - but you may be wondering to yourself: what is “sex denialism” even about?
well, if you’re looking for an explanation, look no further! this brand new hot-button issue revolves around a question that, on its face, seems quite simple: do people have sex or do they not? as you will see, however, answering this question has proven rather complicated.
it’s in our favorite tv shows, on the billboards we drive by, even in our children’s textbooks - but is sex really real? prompted by a dec 1 post on e. musk’s infamous platform, twitter, which called the phenomenon into question, people around the world have been discussing the possibility of sex being all just a great big lie - an adult fairytale, if you will.
Tumblr media
the tweet was controversial, gaining many supporters as well as many opponents. it was retweeted by public figures as prominent as stephen king - though his stance on the topic remains unclear. there were also many dissenting voices, with people allegedly flooding the original poster’s inbox with insults (namely “virgin”) but also deep, thought-provoking questions like “if sex isn’t real, how were you born?”
we have asked experts to weigh in on the matter. richard goberpober, a biology professor at the university of milwaukee, assured us that “sex is definitely real. it is the only way some organisms, like humans, can reproduce”, and “look, i’m not saying everyone has a lot of it, but our species would go extinct without it.” however, there doesn’t seem to be a clear consensus on the matter in the scientific community. robert albert, a geologist who has dedicated the better part of his life to the study of magic crystals, went on record saying “when you really think about it, sex [...] is nothing more than another instrument in the hands of the feminists, who seek to establish matriarchy by using the promise [of sex] against us. in all my 45 years of life, i’ve [...] never seen it happen.”
the celebrity community is equally split on the issue. for example, a day after the twitter “sex-astrophe”, danny devito came out to confirm that “[he] love[s] sex”, further claiming, “i have it every day. just ask my wife.” despite not being asked to comment on the situation, former president d. trump took to his social media platform, truthsocial, on dec 3, to express his opinion. in the post, he wrote: “the democrats are now claiming that #sex is not real. of course sex is real. i have sex every day. and it is good sex. the very best in the world.”
we have reached out to millionaire taylor swift for comment on the issue. “sex? i have never seen hole,” she responded evasively, then added, “and stop asking me about it, or my lawyer will be in touch.” we have also reached out to stephen king on twitter, however, he declined to comment.
much to the shock of his fans, sex education star ncuti gatwa came out in support of the controversial tweet in his new interview for teen vogue. while the show he has previously starred in promotes the idea that sex exists, he is apparently of the opposite opinion. “even my parents told me about it, but i’ve come to realize that it’s probably not real,” he claimed, further insinuating that, “it could be a lot like santa, you know, or the tooth fairy. except grown adults believe in this stuff.” when pressed on why exactly he believes sex is not real, he explained, “a lot of people think i have, but i’ve actually never had it. it just... doesn’t seem natural. i mean, i use mine to urinate. and you’re telling me i should be putting it in some sort of vortex? what if it gets lost in there?” the interviewer has since commented that gatwa appeared distraught by the possibility. when asked whether he would continue to star in the popular show, he declined to answer.
ultimately, this topic has proven to be quite divisive, splitting society into two different camps: sex believers and sex deniers. which one are you?
1 note · View note
Text
Tumblr media
I.D. Protest placard with the words: “ Your inability to grasp science is NOT a valid argument against it”
692 notes · View notes
uncanny-tranny · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
I'm describing my transition in these terms from now on, actually. I feel foolish for not having come up with this myself; it makes me feel like a lesser transsexual for it, in fact.
(Also, the person that was being discussed is cis)
28 notes · View notes
iidsch · 11 months
Text
making a script for a presentation on sex and gender im going to do at a volunteer group and this is so difficult. how do you explain something that is fundamentally stupid
0 notes
stevenose · 2 months
Text
being so normal (18+)
a continuation of this series of blurbs (untitled, adidas, puppy grin)
contains: steve x reader; shy!reader; reader with a vagina; gender neutral pronouns used for reader, but good girl is used once; oral; fingering; blue balls :/
Tumblr media
you really shouldn’t have smoked. but when eddie offers it for free, you take it.
because now you can’t stop looking at steve. you’re fixated on him like a moth to a flame. he’s the only thing in the entire bowling alley you care about. maybe if you were sober that would scare you - but also, if you were sober, you wouldn’t be looking.
everyone’s talking about something. steve included. you watch his brows furrow gently while jonathan tells a story about getting too stoned in california. how his pink lips quirk up and then fall flat again. his brown eyes all soft before they narrow when robin makes a joke at his expense.
and his nose. it slopes downward so straight. like it was sculpted. pink from the alcohol beginning its course through his system. there’s a tiny little freckle on his nostril that you want to kiss.
you want to kiss him. it’s so overwhelming that it’s almost painful. you’d love nothing more than to crawl over the table separating you and kiss him til he’s breathless. til his face is red and his pupils are blown. til his hands grip bruises into your hips. til there’s spit trailing between you two. til it trails down lower, down towards your aching, needy -
you’re snapped out of it when eddie slams his ringed hand down on the table in front of you, making you jump.
your brows crinkle together comically slow. you feel like you just woke up. “huh?”
“does steve have somethin’ on his face?” eddie asks again, smiling big.
“i don’t see anything,” jonathan adds.
you falter. “what?”
it must be physically painful for steve to not look smug over this. you wonder if he knows you were staring. his eyes meet yours and you feel dizzy all over again, so needy and so yet nearly fearful of his attention.
he’s a much better actor than you.
steve waves his hand, looking away from you, brown eyes focusing on the bar. “we all stare when we’re stoned.”
“maybe i just think he looks funny,” you finally say, which seems to be sufficient enough. eddie guffaws loud enough to hear over the music and jonathan slaps steve’s back.
“i’m gonna get you for that,” steve says, in a tone so casual it shouldn’t make your stomach flip, but it still finds a way to.
“gonna make them car sick again?” nancy asks. her eyes feel like they’re boring into the side of your face. like she knows something. it makes sweat bead at your hairline, pulse quickening when she raises her brows at you for a second.
and as the men leave to get drunker, nancy and robin sit staring at you. you play with the sweating edge of your glass of ginger ale, bouncing your leg.
robin’s the first person to break the silence. she swats at you, expression somehow irritated and elated. “how stupid do you think we are?”
“what are you talking about?” you deadpan.
“come on,” nancy huffs.
you point to the monitor above your table. “it’s your turn, rob.”
“how long have you been sleeping together?” nancy presses.
you gawk and you hope, despite knowing that nancy wheeler is the smartest person in a one hundred mile radius, that she’s falling for your innocence. “why on earth do you think we’re…?”
“oh, seriously?” robin scoffs. “you can’t even say ‘fuck’?”
“no, really,” you urge, knee bouncing faster. “why do you think we’re doing something?”
“you’ve been getting rides from him,” nancy points out.
“he has driven me somewhere three times in six months,” you amend.
this seems to make them short circuit, opening their mouths to protest but unable to find any ammo. you’re pleased with this.
“and by your logic, then robin must be having sex with eddie.”
robin groans, repulsed. “that’s gross!”
“how do you think i feel?”
“then why were you staring at him?” nancy asks.
you reach for your ginger ale, taking a long sip. “he’s cute,” you settle on. “so what?”
“if you aren’t doing something, do you want to?” robin continues. “i can, like, totally help you out here if you do.”
“robin,” you grit. “enough.”
as grueling as it is, at the very least, this behavior reinforces why you didn’t want to share your situation with steve in the first place. everyone is so nosy - and the only one who really has a right to be is robin. if you’d let it slip that you were being intimate with steve, she’d be furious that he didn’t tell her. but this makes you feel worse for hiding it, and you feel a little sick as you take another swig of your drink.
“well, if you’re not doing anything,” nancy says slowly. “and if his driving made you sick, and that’s why you pulled over, then you wouldn’t mind jonathan and i taking you home. right?”
you blink. “right,” you reply after a pause.
she stares, unwavering. trying to make you break. “so jonathan and i will take you home, then.”
you nod. “right,” you repeat.
nancy’s so goddamn petty, you think, watching robin finally get up to bowl. totally ruining your impending orgasm, again, just to prove herself right. you were so looking forward to riding steve’s nose. you try your best to not look irritated as the game continues, even as the boys come back, eyes ignoring steve’s - well, ignoring steve’s everything. you act like his entire existence is meaningless to you until he finds you in the hallway leading to the bathrooms, half drunk and messy.
“heyheyheyheyhey,” he coos, grabbing you by the waist, pulling you in to his chest. your body becomes overwhelmingly hot at his attention all over again. "c'mere."
"steve," you squeak, "we can't -!"
but he pulls you into the bathroom anyway, pressing you against the door and twisting the lock until it clicks. his mouth is on yours before you can protest, kissing long and sweet and serene. you melt for half a second before turning your head to the side.
"steve," you breathe, grabbing onto his shirt while his lips trail down your neck. "steve, we can't - they're on to us -"
"i know," he says between kisses, annoyed. "jon and eddie wouldn't shut up about it."
you open your mouth to protest but a moan comes out instead.
“oh, there?” he asks, breathless, attaching his lips to your sweet spot.
“steve,” you moan, breathy and low. “we can’t - they’ll - they’ll kn-know -“
he sighs and pulls away, pouting. “what were you looking at me for earlier?”
you’re a little speechless under his gaze. “why do you think?” you whisper.
he licks his lips. “i think someone here’s upset they didn’t get to cum.” one hand rests firmly on your hip, the other snaking around to the small of your back.
you’re trapped. deliciously so.
“and i think you were thinkin’ about how good my nose feels on your clit.”
you shiver, staring at the collar of steve’s shirt.
“that true?” he asks softly.
“not - not totally.”
“well, do you want that?” his thumb plays with the waistband of your skirt, clawing at it, wanting in. “want me to make out with your pretty pussy again?”
overwhelmed, your eyes fall shut. “nancy - nancy’s taking me home.”
steve falters, eyes going soft. “is everything okay?”
“she’s on to us,” you repeat. “thinks if we aren’t doing anything then i wouldn’t mind going home with her. so - yes, i’d really love that, but i don’t think tonight-“
but steve drops to his knees, like you aren’t in a public restroom. his hands push your skirt up, exposing your still drenched underwear to him. you open your mouth to ask what the hell he thinks he’s doing, but his tongue is on you before you’re able to finish your thought.
“oh!”
steve’s fingers keep your underwear pushed off to the side - his prize of the night now stolen from him. if he could, he’d send you back out there with your pussy on display, your underwear tucked safely into his back pocket. but he’s a gentleman, so he resigns himself to snag a pair from you next time.
he always assumes there’s a next time.
“we - they’ll - find out,” you pant, knees weak, your hands reaching down to push his hair away from his face.
steve laughs, pulls away, licks his lips. “do you really think i can’t make you cum in five minutes?”
you hold onto his hair in a white knuckled grip, tugging, listening to him pant and moan beneath you. his tongue licks delicately up your folds before he sucks at your clit, kissing it, flicking his tongue out. then he ducks down a bit, lets his nose rub against your swollen bud while his tongue fucks you.
“oh my god,” you moan, eyes rolling.
“do you want them to know?” he asks, voice thick with you.
you realize you’re being too loud, but it’s impossible not to be. steve brings you to rapture in ways you never thought possible. you never thought it was possible with him. his pretty face between your thighs begs for you to praise it, to let everyone in this goddamn dive know what he’s doing to you.
“you have three minutes,” you shoot back, panting.
“yeah?” he presses a kiss to your folds. “aren’t i supposed to make you pay for teasin’ me earlier?”
white hot electric shoots through you. “n- no.”
steve laughs, raising a hand so his thumb can rub circles into your clit. you sigh, trying desperately to still your shaking legs. “don’t have to let you cum, y’know. could just wait and see how desperate you can get for me. see if i can get you to hump my leg.”
he doesn’t need three minutes. he needs one more minute, needs his dirty mouth running, needs to make you feel like a pervert, and that’s all it takes. his mouth engulfs you just as you’re cumming, lapping you up, moaning as he tastes you.
“shit,” he gasps, pulling away, chest heaving. “wish i had an hour with you.”
you still don’t look at him as you ask, “what would you do if you had an hour?”
“stretch you out on my fingers,” steve answers immediately. “wanna see how well you could take ‘em if we had the time. if that’s okay,” he adds.
you nod, swallowing hard, dizzy. “that would be very okay.”
“you think i could?” he’s still not getting up. “you’re so tight on my tongue, bet it’d take an hour to get two fingers in you.”
but he’s going to try now, his fingers creeping back up your thighs and between them where you’re sensitive and halfway to dripping.
“we don’t have an hour,” you remind him.
steve just hums, using his free hand to part your legs. he’s begging with his eyes. “but we have a minute, right?”
your head falls back against the door with a quick mhm.
“you’re so cute,” he muses, the tip of his middle finger teasing your entrance. “so beautiful, you know that?”
you want to scream. “i did not.”
“must not tell you enough then, huh?” if you looked down you’d see the absolute adoration in his eyes. “sorry about that, angel.”
steve still isn’t trying to push inside of you. he’s just watching, staring up at your pretty face, the way it twists, your lip quivering. it’s so fun to play with you. he could do this all night but he knows he has about five more seconds until you remind him of the time again.
“please?” you finally whimper.
“good girl,” he beams, sliding his finger inside of you, nice and slow. it’s a stretch for certain, making your mouth fall open in silent rapture. steve drinks you up, afraid to blink and miss something. “so tight, honey. don’t think i’ll ever be able to fuck you.”
you clench around him. “you want to?”
“do you?”
you nod, suffocating.
“yeah?” he says softly, pumping his finger once, twice, in and out of you. “gonna need more space than the car.”
you really aren’t listening. you nod vaguely, trying not to be too needy and roll your hips downwards.
his movements still. “what if i came over tonight?”
now you’re listening. you let your chin fall forward to look at him. “really?”
“yeah.” his hair bobs as he nods, his face turning pink. “get to take my time with you.”
“nancy’s taking me home,” you remind him.
“i’ll come after you’re dropped off. if you want.”
you nod quickly. “mhm. yeah. i do.”
it’s a major loss when he slides his finger out of you, but the sweet kiss he gives you makes up for it.
“clean up,” he says gently. “i’ll be out here.”
your eyes follow his fingers the rest of the night.
556 notes · View notes
sister-lucifer · 2 months
Text
Alien to Earth 
[Unnamed Alien Creature x Gender Neutral Reader]
Genre: Smut 
Content/warnings: Disembodied smut scene, porn without plot, implied dub con, the alien is male but no gender is specified for reader, penis in ambiguous hole sex, weird monster dick 
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
“I wonder what you’re thinking right now,” it whispers, two of its hands gripping tightly to your thighs, forcing your legs open, a third arm wrapped around you to hold your fragile human body to his chest, and the last with its palm pressing into your lips, keeping you silenced. It’s not moving its hips, not thrusting at all, but its cock slithers slowly in and out of you on its own, expanding and retracting and making sure to hit as deep as it can. It’s easier for the creature that way, to be able to focus on holding you and only that. 
“Maybe you’re not even thinking at all,” it muses aloud without a hint of emotion to its voice, “Perhaps you’re too preoccupied. Human minds can only focus on about three things at any given moment, even two is a struggle, but let’s say you are. Perhaps you’re thinking of me, that would be amusing, wondering how the fates aligned for me to find you here at just this time…”
It sucks in a breath, then exhales slowly, the air filtering out of the cavities in its chest, and you can feel it against your back. It’s harder for it to breathe on this planet. 
“Or perhaps you’re worried about what I’ll do when I’m done with you,” it continues, and the chuckle that follows is dry and unfeeling, a flat imitation of humor, “Perhaps you think I’m a sort of praying mantis, ready to consume you wholly once I’ve finished. Although, a little human like you wouldn’t exactly be filling…”
It seems to consider your body for a moment, adjusting its hold on you a bit but not relaxing its grip for even a second. Its cock starts to undulate a bit faster, stretching out even more and hitting even deeper. You can nearly feel it in your stomach. You wish you could scream. 
Your entire body is spasming with every expansion now, shaking desperately in a futile attempt to cope with the torture this creature is putting it through. You pray every time its cock pulls back that maybe, just maybe it’ll let up this time, but it doesn’t hear you. 
“Perhaps you’re scared,” it goes on, its face now nestled in your neck, “Perhaps you’re worried your primitive human form can’t handle a…mm, what do you call it? A cock of my size, though I performed all necessary calculations to ensure you could. Perhaps you’re worried I’ll split you right down the middle…” 
For the first time, its voice trembles. It’s cock twitches inside you. Something has excited it.
“…Perhaps you’re wondering if you could even survive such a raw ravishing.”
802 notes · View notes
avocado-writing · 5 months
Text
home
Tumblr media
pairing: 14th doctor x reader & 10th doctor x reader
rating: E
notes: no gender or age given for reader, just that you last saw the doctor fifteen years ago. thank you to @mcganns for being my beta!!
This too shall pass.
It was a sentiment that you had to cling onto when he left, because fuck knows it was the most painful thing you’d ever felt. And you’d run away from actual explosions before. Big ones, in space! Supernovas which could eat entire planets while you hung onto the side of a little blue box. 
And yet none of it even begins to compare to when he fucking left you. 
He said it wouldn’t be forever. Well, he shouted it at you as you fell out of the TARDIS. There was a time explosion, and you got rocketed back to your little flat in the middle of Hackney, on Earth only a few days from when he’d picked you up — but in your reality months of adventure had passed. 
You’d not really settled back in, certain that he was going to come and rescue you. But then days turned into weeks into months and you finally accepted that the Doctor had abandoned you. 
So you went back to it all. Your mundane little existence before a mad, brilliant man had whisked you away. Your boss was a bit miffed that you’d gone AWOL but you were their best employee so they couldn’t afford to let you go, all you got was a slap on the wrist and a command not to let it happen again. The people you loved didn’t really seem to notice your absence that much, which stung; you couldn’t blame them though. You’d probably not miss you much either. 
The Doctor. He made you feel special in a way nobody had before. Like you were the centre of a whole, giant, fantastic universe, and he adored you for it. 
Still. 
No point mulling that over again, is there?
Fifteen years. Things did get better. You moved on eventually. But you still find your thoughts drifting back to him every once in a while, and that fragment of time you spent totally utterly in love with each other. When you think about the way he kissed you, without realising it you end up touching your lips.
No. No. Stop. 
The singing of the kettle snaps you back into reality, and you pour yourself a hot cuppa. Ah, tea. The antidote to everything. You go to turn the radio on for some company as you shift into your morning routine when you hear a knock at the door. 
Probably the postie. He’s a bit early today, you think, but make no more of it as you undo the latch and open the door. 
Your heart stops. 
Because there he is, of course. 
Older. Weathered. Not the young man you once knew but a grownup version of him, as exhausted by life as you are. 
You drop your mug. Quick as a flash the Doctor grabs it out of midair. The tea sloshes onto the floor but at least nothing gets shattered. 
He goes to look up at you, but his attention is drawn back to his hand. 
“I bought you this mug years ago,” he says, utterly amazed. 
You shut the door in his face. 
Well, you try to, anyway. But he sticks a foot in between the door and the frame, with one of those stupid Converse he always wears.
“I know you’re angry, I know. But please let me come in.”
It’s such an absurd statement you find yourself laughing, a high and desperate noise. 
“Absolutely not!” Actually, no. That’s not enough. “How dare you. Why are you even here?!”
“Because I wanted— I needed to see you.”
You still want to slam the door on him, but there’s a desperation to his voice that gives you pause. And when he looks at you with those sad, puppy-dog eyes? Those eyes as lined with age as you are?
Fuck. You’re so weak. 
So that’s how you find the Doctor sitting at your kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of him. You lean against the counter, defences still up, eyeing him from over the top of your mug. He drums his fingers against the tablecloth. 
“I like your house. Your calendar is nice, I enjoy the kitten motif.”
“Don’t,” you spit, slamming the mug down and sloshing tea onto the floor, “don’t you dare. You don’t get to waltz back here and start telling me ‘oh, I enjoy your furnishings, haven’t you made a nice little life for yourself since I abandoned you!’ I let you in to speak your piece, though god knows why. Say it and be done.”
The Doctor looks deflated. His shoulders sag, mouth falls. You take a moment to properly look at him. He seems… tired. Tired in a way you never knew him to be when you went on your adventures. Part of you wants to offer comfort, but the other part of you wants to withhold it maliciously. Anything to make him feel the way you felt. 
“I looked for you,” is what he settles on, heavily. You didn’t expect that, and it knocks you. 
“What?”
“I did. After the explosion, I tried searching all over the galaxy for you. I didn’t know where - when - you’d ended up. I scanned and scanned but something stopped you from appearing on the TARDIS’s sensors. I think… the amount of artron energy emitted during the blast somehow cloaked you.”
You say nothing, your silence an invitation for him to continue his explanation. 
“It took years. Literal years, for me. Every spare moment I had, I dedicated to looking for you. Head buried in the circuitry of the TARDIS, trying to fix whatever was hiding you, gave myself a couple of nasty shocks too. And, when I finally tracked you down, I’d regenerated.”
You blink. Right. Yes. He’d explained that, but you’d never seen it with your own eyes. The same person, a different face. 
“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me if I didn’t look like me. But I had to try anyway, didn’t I? So I came here. To your house. I got myself all ready for it, knocked on your door… and found that you were married.”
Your fingers grip the counter. 
“Oh.”
“He seemed nice. Loved you a lot, as you deserved. And I couldn’t tell you I was back, could I? I saw you pottering around in the kitchen, making the tea - you were always the best at making tea - and you were happy. How could I ask you to leave that all, uproot the life you’d made for yourself, just to jump back in the TARDIS with me? How could I be so cruel? I couldn’t, could I. So I left again. Tried to move on. Like you did.”
You’re crying now. You can feel hot tears slide down your face and soak into your jumper. 
“Oh, Doctor,” you manage. You want to tell him so much. It feels like it might burst out of you. But instead you settle on:
“Why now?”
He smiles thinly. 
“Because somehow I got this face back, and I wanted to see you. I wanted to be selfish for once.”
You find yourself at the table, on the wonky chair opposite him, sliding your hand over to cover his. It’s rough and warm. Just like you remember. He says your name with reverence, but like it pains him. 
“I never stopped loving you. Ever. Through it all, every adventure, I knew it wasn’t complete because you weren’t there. It just wasn’t the same without wonderful, brilliant you,” he admits. He sounds defeated. It breaks your heart — or, actually, it might just put it back together again. 
A beat passes. His confession lingers in the air, heavy, thick and choking like smoke from an untameable fire. 
“His name was Simon. He was a baker. He was lovely, actually… and we got divorced two years ago.”
The Doctor’s brow furrows. 
“You… what… why?”
“Because he knew there was someone else I never really let go of. Someone else who, despite everything, I still loved.”
He looks you in the eyes, and you see something glimmer there that you long since gave up on. 
Hope. 
And then, suddenly, you’re kissing. 
It’s like nothing has changed. His lips are still rough and searching on yours, a hint of tongue giving away into more the deeper you entangle. He sits you up on the table and steps into the space left by your spread legs, and between each kiss he says your name. It’s full of adoration but lined with desperation, too. 
Like the kisses he gave you the first night you laid together, on a bed in his spaceship floating across the galaxy. When he buried himself inside you and you felt his two hearts beat in rhythm with your own. 
“Doctor…” you manage. 
Fuck. You need him. You didn’t realise how badly you needed him. You didn’t realise a piece of your soul has been missing this whole time, fucking torn out of you and leaving a jagged hole in its wake. And him, back, telling you he loves you and always has? You’re patched together like kintsugi. 
Your Doctor is the molten gold you need. 
“Please. I need to…” he’s so desperate he can barely get the words out, but you nod; he’s undoing the belt buckle of your jeans and pulling them off like they’re silk. When his thin waist meets yours you cross your ankles behind him and lock him into place, and his hands - a little fumbling, a little nervous to be mapping out the plain of you again - begin to trace your chest. You lean into his touch to let him know yes. This is okay. I want this. Make me whole again. 
His warm, rough palms slide under the hem of your shirt and lift it easily over your head, the only break in a while you take from your kiss. You let yourself grab his tie to bring him closer. He’s fully dressed still and you’re almost naked; you remember how he used to like that, enjoy feeling a bit more put together than you. Cheeky blighter. Still though, as his suit scratches your skin, you can’t say you don’t agree. 
However. In this instance he has far too many clothes. 
You tug at his jacket and he knows what you need, letting it fall to the floor with his tie and waistcoat following it. He ruts against you as he unbuttons his shirt a bit, not the whole way, but just enough for you to feel the warmth of his chest. He’s so skinny. You’ve always been a bit worried that, on one of your rougher days, you might snap him in half. You still are now, actually. 
Cupping his face in your hands you let your thumbs caress his cheekbones. Your Doctor. Older but the same. Just like you. 
You can feel him more than half-hard against your leg. No more time wasting. You need him. You need him, you need him, you need him. 
It doesn’t take long to undo his fly and have him in your hand. You’ll always be glad he chose this human anatomy. Though you’d love him no matter how he looks, there’s something wonderful about his cock as it is here. He lets his head fall forward onto your shoulder with a moan if your name. 
“Oh… you’re…”
“Mmm hmm,” you agree, a genuine smile passing your face for the first time in god knows how long. He’s just the right length and on the thick side, and you know what a delicious stretch he is when he pushes inside of you. You can’t wait to feel it again. A couple of pumps and he’s ready, dripping precome and a ruddy red. Another time you’d bend down and taste him, remind yourself what a Time Lord’s cock is like. But now today. Well, not now. 
You lay back, readjusting yourself so he can push your underwear to the side and find your entrance. A couple of fingers - those long, delicate, clever and cunning fingers - press inside you and test you out. You’re ready for him. He makes a choked noise in the back of his throat as he realises and you laugh, properly, throwing your head back. 
“Come on, Doctor. Show me that you’ve missed me.”
He used to never shut up. And now he’s stunned into a desperate silence, lining up with you and pushing in as he does his best to make you feel what he’s been feeling too. 
A loneliness is fixed. He slides home inside you and your hips meet, the both of you letting out a long and ragged breath. You sit there for a moment, locked in the most intimate embrace, and just feel each other. You fist your hands in his shirt. He’s here. He’s real. You feel him trace his palm up your back as if you assure himself of the same thing. 
Slowly he begins to move. It is a long and lovely drag, his cock hitting all the points you missed being touched, and when he feels you gasp he goes harder. The Doctor nuzzles into the skin of your neck, nestling to the warmth of you there, and you hear him repeat a mantra both of your name and “I love you”.
Over and over. As if the two phrases are inextricably linked. 
You’re so full. You’re so light. Everything feels perfect in this moment. And when he reaches between your bodies to touch your sex, push you to the edge, you know you’ll climax for him embarrassingly fast. 
When you come you see stars light up behind your eyes. The sky, the unfiltered and untamed sky takes you over. The Doctor says your name one final fine and releases inside you, his hips riding it out as if to savour every second in the sweet grip of you. 
He can’t look at your face when he asks you. He says it from the safety of your shoulder where his face is buried, because if you say no you know his heart will shatter. 
“Come with me, in the TARDIS again. I know I shouldn’t ask you to leave your home but… you complete me, you know. Always have.”
“Leave my home?! Doctor, don’t be daft. This is just a house in bloody Hackney. You’re my home.”
You pull back to meet his gaze. He’s tired, but bright. His eyes twinkle. And there’s the Doctor you know. 
“And of course,” you continue. And, as the smile engulfs his face and he lights up, “it’s not like I’m doing anything else, am I?”
This time, when you go AWOL from your job, you never come back. 
790 notes · View notes
romanoffsbish · 5 months
Text
The Ultimate Prize
Wanda Maximoff x Reader (No pronouns or gender specific body parts used)
Prompt Request (done backwards 😳🙃) | Wanda decides to challenge your resolve | WC: 2,416
Smut: Oral | Fingering | Glass Dildo / Temp Play | Choking | Degradation / Praising | Overstimulation | Squirting (W)
18+ | Minors DNI
Tumblr media
"I'm bored," Wanda bemoaned, you didn't even spare her a glance so she raised the stakes, "Wanna play?"
You hummed, the only answer she'd get so early in the morning. Wanda practically squealed at your attention, but she didn't, instead she somehow kept her cool, sliding into your lap as she seductively dropped her tone, "First person to become turned on loses."
——
You ruminated on her taunting words for a few moments, waking up the rest of the way for the sake of the proposition at hand, you could already feel her heat. You leaned in closer, lips softly brushing as you chuckled, "Wouldn't you be winning though?" Wanda tilted her head, amusing you further. "If you so much as smell needy, I'll devour you whole pretty girl."
Wanda whined, she'd already failed before the game even began, she felt her panties sticking to her core. She'd had quite the dream about you, and the thoughts had yet to cease to flow through her conscious mind. It was something you'd picked up on, actually, it was her prior squirming that roused you into consciousness.
You kissed her right then, with so much force that you had to wrap your arms around her curvy figure to keep her from falling. Wanda gasped in fear at the sway of her body, allowing you to slip your tongue right over hers before it caressed the back of her teeth. You let her suckle on your muscle as you laid her flat on the mattress and slid your knee between her silky thighs.
"How bad do you want me, my love?" Wanda couldn't speak, she sinfully whimpered, pressing her core into your knee as she did, like a desperate whore. You chuckled devilishly in reply, "I'm gonna do the type of things that happen in your dreams."
The witch gulped as she saw the intensity in your eyes, a spark of fear shot throughout her body and she was squirming on the bed. The need was palpable, and you almost wanted to tease her, but you were just as horny, so you chose to jump straight into action instead. The redhead gazed up at you in wonder, eyes tracking the way your tongue wet your upturned lips. You were so cocky sometimes that it made her feel embarrassed.
This effect you had on her was borderline sinister, but fuck if it wasn't everything she needed, you were her addiction, and you very well knew it. "Open your legs wide for me darling," you purred and they instantly fell slack against the mattress, her hips stopped gyrating down and she waited for instruction. "What a good girl, who could've guessed you'd also be such a slut."
There were no more words, only direct action from you. Wanda cried out as you folded her body like a pretzel, her lower spine curved off of the mattress, her knees now settled on either side of her head and your tongue dove as deeply as it could into her warmth.
The sounds you made as you moved your head about while sucking and licking were lewd, and profitable. You couldn't help it, it was a purely carnal response. It was like heaven on earth, no one could ever compare to your beautiful, sweet witch. The one that would cook you a five star meal, and when you'd let her she'd feed it to you, but truthfully you always preferred dessert, usually before the entree; she never seemed to mind.
Your girlfriend was insatiable, just the same as you. Most mornings, if she actually made it to the kitchen, you'd find her cooking breakfast, in nothing but panties and an apron that read—Kiss the Chef, with an arrow that pointed down, an open invitation of sorts.
One that you dutifully accepted every single time.
Even with her body twisted, ankles crossed over one another behind your neck, Wanda was meeting your tongue with thrusts of her own, proving her strength went beyond her powers, her abs were well toned.
Wetness smeared all over your face, and you prayed that your pores would hold onto her scent for a while. People ask you for your skincare routine all the time, but nobody ever believes you when you say Wanda. They usually laugh it off, and you would just follow as it saved you the trouble of any forging competition.
You weren't exactly worried, listening to the way your girlfriend moaned your name was enough reassurance, but it was nice to know no one was trying to take her.
Wanda was too lost in the pleasure to feel the way you possessively gripped her thighs as your thoughts ran, holding her open so that you could devour her wholly. Nobody else could ever match your efficiency as you had her crying out, that gorgeous body of hers writhing in the air as her pussy creamed in mere minutes.
The witch wasn't ever going to leave, she found solace in your eyes, and unbound pleasure on your tongue. It truly was, as the people say, the best of both worlds.
As your lovers back curved in a downwards slump you knew it was time to offer her strained spine reprieve. So, with a far more gentle touch you lowered her onto the mattress, allowing her legs to unravel, milky thighs touched base with the sheets and she sighed in thanks as your lips continued to make out with her lower set.
A hum of satisfaction left you as her arousal continued to seep from her, the sticky remnants dribbled down your chin and soaked into the fabric of your nightshirt, which felt uncomfortable against your skin now, but you couldn't be bothered to stop what you were doing. Far too engrossed in the feeling of her walls trying to suck your tongue back inside, Wanda whined in unison, shamelessly expressing her need. You met her frustrated cries with two fingers that entered her and you immediately scissored them, stretching out the walls that worked overtime to keep them restrained.
With every thrust into her she became increasingly mindless, the most powerful, feared being on any Earth, and yet she crumbled so easily for you. You chuckled at the endearing thought, adding to her pleasure as your lips were wrapped around her clit.
Your free hand had been groping her breasts, deft fingers pinched at her nipples, your eyes peered up to see the fruits of your labor unfold; she looked ethereal, her mouth permanently agape, eyes crossed with beads of sweat illuminated beneath the early morning rays.
This unrelenting urge to be closer to her overtook you, even with your fingers buried deep inside her it wasn't enough, it never was. You briefly paused, ignoring her groans as you tore your own shirt off, and found that alone calmed the witch. Her glossy eyes ran over the nudity she'd been yet to see, and she smiled tiredly. You winked, enjoying the way her cheeks somehow managed to darken, as if being caught was a crime.
Wanda was always shy like this, even in the midst of passionate moments, she never lost the bashfulness. It was overall adorable, sometimes distracting, but not in this case because just as quickly as you'd pulled away you were back on her. Entering her with the addition of two more fingers, and with wet, plump lips that were more than prepared to catch her moans as they were violently ripped from her constricted throat. You felt the way the muscle bobbed beneath your hand and couldn't help but to grin against her lips and cheek.
The redhead had casually mentioned wanting to be choked a few months back, but up until now you'd only ever teased her. Whether that be when she asked you to help her with her necklace before a party, and you jokingly placed your hand there instead, or when you two would make love, your fingers would wrap around her throat, but never offered the pressure she craved.
Until today, when you made all her dreams come true.
Wanda came with a choked down scream, no sound left her but you felt the pleasure against your palms. There were no aftershocks, only continued writhing as you sought to overstimulate her, she whined, and weakly pushed at your chest, but you were determined.
"You asked for this baby, so take it like a good girl," you purred against the side of her neck, kissing over the red lines you'd left behind. Your lips trailed over her perfect jawline until they were back against hers where she sloppily kissed you. Her fingers dug into your shoulder blades as another wave of warm arousal gushed out of her, and pooled in your palm.
Wanda was panting wildly, in need of a minute, so you softly kissed all over her face to give her one. Without much effort you reached beside your marital bed and into a mini fridge, designated only for a variety of toys and mini waters. You pulled a bottle out, and took a long swig down before giving her the remaining sip. Wanda groaned in satisfaction, the cool liquid helping to ease her parched throat, but it dried up once more. Tired green eyes had found yours, and she knew it wasn't time for a nap, the darkness that enveloped your orbs meant she unlocked your true potential.
Then she felt it—a chilled tip against her warm hole. For a moment she wondered if it was you who could read minds, because her wet dream was unfolding in perfect harmony. You'd yet to tell her that she talks in her sleep... The way she moaned was a distinct praise.
The chilled glass dildo you used was unlike any other you two had used before, Wanda could tell you'd updated your inventory. This one was crafted with red and white swirls, almost like a candy cane but without the curve. It was undeniably thick too, you struggled to enter her, pushing beyond the resistance, which meant she felt every groove as it prodded against her used walls. Even with her slick, it got caught on her entrance as the icy layer offered further resistance to your harsh push. Wanda had to wait for reprieve, she needed you to pull out and ruthlessly ram it back inside repeatedly, but you were making her wait for the toy to warm up.
Every time she's complained before you just go slower, so she just took this time to breathe, especially since you've already given her three toe curling orgasms.
Her slow breathing actually helped in allowing a few inches of the glass to slip in with ease, Wanda shivered, from the cold or pleasure you weren't too sure, until a soft whimper left her cracked lips to insinuate both.
"Does it feel good baby?" Your voice was silky smooth, and sensual enough to make her cunt swallow the rest of the dildo up. Wanda swore in Sokovian under her breath as soon as she felt the fullness, her mind was too hazy to actually register your words cognitively. "Answer me, or I won't move." That she did hear, and she wracked her brain for the prior sentence, offering you a meek, "So good," just to get you to make it better.
You chuckled, "there's my good girl," a deep raspiness enveloped your words and made her walls flutter as you began to pick up a steady pace. In, out—in, out that's the way you did it until she was too used to the pattern. Her body was engaged, her slick seeping into the sheets beneath her proof enough, but it wasn't thrilled, so you swirled the dildo every few entries.
Her hips would jolt up with each swirl against her spot, just for you to press them back down to make sure she took it only as you intended. Wanda began to scream out her Sokovian expletives the more you gave, her eyes crossed and blurred whenever you bottomed out.
"Oh fuck," she cried out, hands clawing into your sides as she needed something to ground her. "You're doing so good for me baby, your pretty pussy's loving this." You winced against the skin of her neck, and bit down into it as her nails dragged down your sides, it was too much, your teasing words, and the mix of sensations.
It was jarring, really, the way that everything was contradicting, one second her body was frozen as the frigid cold encapsulated her senses, then it was like fire was blooming throughout her body with the friction. Wanda mewled as your tongue hotly slid up her throat, collecting the drops of sweat that began to roll, her skin so hot that the action actually cooled her down.
The pleasure that came from such a mix of feeling pushed her over the edge, hard. Her cunt sounded off, warm slick sloshed all over your exposed abdomen and you both groaned at the feeling. Everything went dark for the witch, her body all but shutting down as yours became more lively. You peered down to watch her arousal pour out of her aggravated hole, it had pulled the dildo in further before repelling it back out.
"You are just perfect," you keened while kissing her roughly. You tossed the glass piece onto the sheets somewhere while your lips moved with hers. It was a slow, sensual process the way you kissed her down from her high. Your hips softly ground into her pelvis, but you were careful not to push her too far, just moving enough to finally relieve your own aching sex.
It was subtle until you moaned into her mouth, the way your body shivered atop of hers enough of a sign. It was hot, and Wanda wanted to flip you over, but she was too tired. There was however a tease on the tip of her tongue, but you cut her off with your own as you laughed, "Looks like you failed." Wanda blinked harshly in disbelief, she truly thought she could hold up the illusion for a bit of teasing, yet she didn't even kiss you into mutual desperation. "What's my prize?"
"You can do whatever you want to me Y/N," Wanda gave up her illusionary grip on control, even if the truth was clear that you both lost. "Whenever I want?" She nodded rather enthusiastically, you grinned and softly pecked her lips. "Oh, you beautiful fool..."
——
726 notes · View notes
Note
How about the farmer and bachelor hiding in a small place. Like they are hips and chest pressed against each other. The farmer doesn't noticed but the bachelor is going wild over the limit space between them. You can make it nsfw I don't mind! :)
This took me forever to get to I’m so sorry! Also these are mostly just lewd as opposed to like whole nsfw but Sebastian and Alex’s got full nsfw 😂
Content warnings: mostly gender neutral reader except Sebastian’s is afab reader, reader calls Sebastian daddy once, Theyer long as hell, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE
Small spaces but big opportunities with the bachelors
Shane:
He wanted to come to the mines with you, mostly out of curiosity but also because he wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything to dangerous
Thankfully the level that you had gone to didn’t have to many monsters on it and while he still thought that maybe it wasn’t the best place, he could see the appeal
At least until you both fell into a kinda deep very narrow pit
He landed flat on his ass and you landed unceremoniously on his lap, very much straddling him
After making sure neither of you were seriously injured you began to look around
“How on earth are we gonna get out of this? Does this happen to you often in the mines?”
Shane’s very concerned and trying very hard to ignore your chest being almost in his face
“Well no, I mean the tv said I’d have bad luck today but I didn’t think anything of it!”
Shane stares at you blankly for a moment “the tv said…okay we can unpack that later, for now we should figure this out”
He tried to shift around a bit but quickly stopped as the friction of your body rubbing against the crotch of his pants caught him off guard, thank god it’s a little dark and you can’t see the red now painting his face
He’s got his hands resting on your thighs, you try shifting around to see if you can maybe stand up but his grip tightens and you could almost swear he moaned a little bit
“You okay? You said you weren’t hurt! What hurts? Do you need a health elixir? I have extra in my bag”
“No, no sweetheart that’s not it, I’m not hurt just, fuck”
You just noticed the bulge straining against his shorts and pressing against your inner thigh
“Oh” you hadn’t noticed until now that he had gotten hard
“Fuck I’m so sorry I-“ he got cut off as you ground down against him
“Shit sweetheart, you sure you wanna start this right now?” He’s practically growling out his words with how gravely and husky his voice is currently
“Never been more sure, sir”
He has a sir kink, fight me on it
He tightens his grip on your hips to help you grind against him while he smashes his lips against yours in a very heated kiss
Harvey:
You were in the tiny medical closet at his clinic looking for some gauze he had asked you to grab for him so he could restock the drawer
It was taking a moment though so he came to check on you and ultimately the door accidentally shut behind him
It locks from the outside automatically
Harvey is now chest pressed to your back due to the confined space in the closet, hardly enough room for you to try and turn around
“Well hey there doc, whatcha need?”
“The doors locked and maru doesn’t get here for another hour, this wasn’t supposed to happen”
He’s trying not to focus on how warm you feel pressed against him, how perfectly your body fits against his, and how the sudden proximity has his dick stirring in his pants
You’re squinting to see in the dark closet and all but have to stand on your tippy toes to read if the label in front of you reads gauze
“Just as well because this feels like a lost cause, how do you find anything in here?”
Your ass brushes against the growing bulge in his pants and he has to stifle a groan at the contact
“We can find it later, just stay still please”
He’s sounds strained, and then you can feel it pressing into your back
“Harvey, are you hard right now?”
This mans spilling apologies from his lips so quickly
“I’m so sorry this was never meant to happen your just very pretty and being stuck in the little closet with you isn’t helping and-“
You cut him off by bringing a hand around your back and gently grabbing his bulge
“I don’t mind, gives us something to do in the meantime” you would wink at him but you arnt facing him and the rooms dark
“I- are you sure? I want this but I need to know you want this as well”
You’ve been pining after the doctor for like a year and a bit at this point so of-course you want this
“Yes I want this Harvey, touch me, please”
How could he say no when you ask so politely
Sam:
Not so much trapped in a closet together as it is playing seven minutes in heaven at a party Abigale was throwing
You picked his name out of a hat and then got promptly shoved into a very small closet with him
Chest to chest, Harley enough space to breath without feeling his heart beat against you
“We uh, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to”
He’s always considerate of your comfort
“Time starts now! Have fun~” you could hear Abigail’s voice fading away as she walked back down the hallway
“Sooooooooooo, think there’s a light in here orrrrr we just gonna make out in the dark?”
You meant to ease the tension with a little joke but god do you wanna kiss him
He’s taking the dive, hands on either side of your face as he presses his lips to yours
With only a little struggle in the confined space you managed to wrap your arms around his neck
Soon he’s trailing kisses down your neck, leaving little bites here and there just so he can hear the way you try not to whine
Your hands down the front of his jeans slowly stroking him
“Fuck sweetheart, wish we had more time. Wanna take this to your place?”
Yes you do in-fact want to take this to your place
Which is just as well because Abigale is knocking on the closet door to tell you your times up and that you both better have pants on
Elliott:
Had he meant to be stuck in a small crevice in the forest with the farmer directly underneath him? No
But his little outings don’t seem to want to go to plan these days
He does however, appreciate the view of you, underneath him red faced as he tries to find a way to get up that doesn’t involve accidentally standing on you
“Must be exhausting holding yourself up like that, you can lay down I don’t mind a human weighted blanket”
God your adorable
Only lets some of his weight rest on you
“Well, this isn’t the best circumstances but even so you still look absolutely ravishing”
Meant that to be an inside thought but alas, it became an outward thought. He wishes lightning would strike him if that didn’t mean you would also be in harms way
“Well your not half bad yourself handsome, lemme just”
You gently pull his hair back into a ponytail with a hair elastic you keep on your wrist for him
That’s all he needs to lose composure, soon enough y’all are making out in the crevice
Wondering hands and gentle nips across your neck are enough to get small gasps out of you
God you sound amazing he thinks
But he’s not about to bed you in a hole in the ground, he’s more romantic then that
But the moment y’all get out and head back to his beach shack?
Soft gasps turn to moans, hushed whispers turn to loving praises, wondering hands stray further beyond the elastic of your underwear as he shows you just how good he can be with his hands
Sebastian:
You and him went swimming, despite his dislike of the activity he was always willing to go with you
You had wanted to explore a little cave like opening in the stone of the mountains near the lake and he came with you to make sure your good
And that’s how you end up here, stuck pressed against each other in your swimsuits, stuck between two particularly close stone walls
Sebastian’s trying to look anywhere but at you to avoid popping the most awkward boner in existence
“Well this is less then ideal, sorry Sebastian I didn’t think we would get stuck”
You feel a bit bad since you know he’s probably pretty uncomfortable right now
“Th-that’s okay, not your fault”
He has one hand behind your head so you don’t accidentally smack it on the hard rocks, his other hand is on your waist because it felt right to place it there
“Well, atleast the suns setting so you won’t get burnt”
“And we’re basically skin to skin so we probably won’t freeze”
He tried to lighten the mood a bit, it worked since you let out an airy laugh
“Could be worse, atleast I get the hot emo boy to keep me company”
Now he’s blushing, from chest to forehead just red
“You think I’m hot?”
Definitely had a voice crack in that statement but you ignore it much to his prides pleasure
“Absolutely, hottest guy in town”
Your trying to kill him he’s convinced but atleast he’ll die happy
“Fuck baby you can’t just say shit like that while pressed against me”
You can feel his erection pressing into your stomach
“Hmmmmmm maybe I’m prepared for the consequences”
The hand that was on your waist gently wraps around your neck as he pulls you into a heated kiss, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth while you gasp against him
You manage to bring your legs up enough to sort of trap his hips against yours as you grind against him
He moans against your lips before pulling back to trail kisses down your neck, leaving a few hickeys on whatever spots seem particularly sensitive
Meanwhile you’ve pulled his cock out of his swim shorts and lined him up with your cunt, gently rubbing the head through your folds for a moment before grinding your hips down just enough to sheath him inside
“Fuck, so fucking tight around me baby”
You whine into his skin as you hide your face into his neck, he’s gently thrusting into you as much as the little space will allow him to do
One of his hands travels between your body’s to start rubbing little circles on your clit while you fist your hands into his hair
“Shit seb, feels so fucking good”
He whines quietly at your praise as he can feel the knot forming in his stomach, he’s close to cumming but thankfully so are you
“Not gonna last much longer baby, cum with me, yeah? Think you can be a good girl and cum with daddy?”
Your nodding frantically as you start to spasm around him, milking his cock for all its worth
He slams his hips into you once more as deep as he can before filling your warm walls with his cum
Somehow all the movement you guys have done has wedged you free, no longer stuck in a tight spot your heading back to his place for round two
Alex:
You and Alex were exploring the deep woods together because he wanted to know what types of things you do in your day to day
He was not expecting the woods to be full of slimes trying to kill you but ya know, it’s always an adventure with the farmer
That’s how you end up in a small cave pressed against each other while you patch up a small wound on his thigh
“You okay? Your being pretty quiet up there”
He’s trying not to focus on how close to his dick your hands are so he doesn’t get hard
It’s not working very well
“I’m fine, just a little scrape I’m sure it’s okay”
“Yeah but it’s better to take care of it now, don’t want it to get infected”
He knows your right but also your hands brushed by his cock and now he’s got a semi
And it’s hard not to notice especially when it twitches as your hands brush over it again
“Baby, sweetheart, love please, you gotta know what your doing to me”
Your feigning innocence because it’s a little entertaining watching him be so flustered
“Hmmmm i should make sure your not injured anywhere else”
Your hands are on the buttons to his jeans looking at him for permission to pull them down
He knows the game your playing, so he lets you
You’ve got his cock out and your gently stroking your hands up and down his shaft, adjusting the pressure to what gets the best reaction out of him
“Oh fuck sweetheart that’s so good”
He’s putty in your hands
You decide to go for double kill and gently lower your mouth on the tip, sucking lightly while you stroke his shaft
He’s moaning loudly now, one hand in your hair to start bobbing you up and down on his cock
“Shiittt baby gonna lemme cum down your throat yeah? Please”
How could you say no to such a nice request
You relax your throat as best you can and take his whole cock into your mouth at once, he’s cumming in seconds
You pull back and swallow as you smile up at him
He needs like ten minutes to recover but he’s returning the favour twice over
3K notes · View notes
witchthewriter · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐮𝐡𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
⤷ gender neutral and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ
ISTP/ISFP
Gryffindor
Chaotic Good
Scorpio Sun, Aries Moon, Aquarius Rising
𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿
・You know when you meet someone, and you don't have to force your personality to fit into some kind of shape?
・That's what happened with you and Ruhn
・Ever since you met, there was a spark. You were both curious about each other.
・You were drawn into the way he looked. Not many fae tattooed themselves from nearly head to toe, or had so many piercings
・It made your heart beat faster and faster
・You knew you were attracted to him
・And he made you laugh within minutes
・But you didn't want to give him the satisfaction
・So, the one thing that has stayed throughout your relationship is the goddamn bickering. Which really is just another form of banter.
・This has caused a lot of angst between the two of you.
・But you both knew it was pure play. Flirting. Humour. Banter.
・Everything changed when you had a panic attack in front of him. You were so embarrassed. But the way he held you, cupping your face, moving your hair behind your ears, wiping away the tears.
・His purple eyes bore into your own and you felt instantly calmer.
・From that day on you thanked The Maker. Because staring into his eyes - something clicked. Like a piece was perfectly placed; one you never knew you were missing.
・Making you blush is one of his favourite hobbies. Seeing you duck your head, cover your face or roll your eyes makes his day.
・Very protective; is able to stop himself from taking a swing at the asshole. He's more of a rip him to shreds verbally and then wrap an arm around your shoulder and walk away.
・But don't think he won't get physical over you. Because Ruhn definitely will.
・Would rather take your last name when you get married - his holds too many bad memories
・He knows his smirk makes you weak in the knees but when you brush over his bare skin, he nearly gets on his own knees to worship you
・Would walk to the ends of the earth to find you. There's nothing Ruhn would not do for you. Kill, maim, avenge, even die for you.
𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔
Tough on the Outside, Soft on the Inside (Ruhn) x The Top (You)
Overly arrogant, flirty (Ruhn) x Pretends To Be Unfazed, But Is Dying On The Inside (You)
“Shut Up” x “Make Me”
𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆
Intertwined Destinies
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈
Fire In The Water by Feist
Blood Moon by John Lunn & Eivor
The Lure by The Weeknd
𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞
・Every time with him is hot and heavy; it's hard to breathe when you're both in the mood. It's as if the world doesn't exist and all you can do is be in one another's arms
・You're both as dominant as each other, but when you tease him, gods help you. He'll have you bent over any flat surface, taking you from behind.
・Definitely an ass slapper.
・Growls in your ear both in the bedroom and in public
・Something turns primal in him whenever he's with you. Sometimes it feels like he's a hairs breath away from completely ravishing you
・Ruhn is definitely one to keep a naughty polaroid of you
・At times you think you're both insatiable; no matter how many times either of you cum, nothing is good enough.
・As Mates it's easy to explain. Your souls were made for one another, and so is your biology. Therefore, you both have high fucking sex drives.
・You're obsessed with Ruhn's hands and he knows it. Large, veiny and usually with a few rings. He rests his hand on your thigh, and will slowly move it closer and closer to your core - no matter who is around
・His cock is 8 inches when hard, veined, 3cm in girth. Circumcised; when he's horny the tip is a dark weepy red and when after orgasm it's slightly darker.
・As much as he can be serious and passionate, Ruhn also loves when you two can be silly while having sex. Talking about your day, or laughing when you two almost fall off the bed.
・The first time you had sex, Ruhn didn't last as long as he usually does. He was a whiny, whimpering mess, head in the crook of your neck, pumping in and out of you relentlessly.
・It was like fucking for the first time.
・Nothing compared to being with the person you were supposed to be with.
・Ruhn couldn't stop kissing you, and not just your lips. His favourite part was behind your ear. Trailing hot breathy kisses down to your neck.
・He apologised, but it didn't mean he was done. It just meant there was more natural lube for you.
200 notes · View notes
By: Nathan Williams
Published: Apr 27, 2021
Pseudoscience has become a serious problem. From Covid conspiracy theories to climate change denialists, the spread of scientific misinformation threatens our health and the health of our planet. Now there’s a new pseudoscience as bogus as flat-earthism or creationism. But this time there’s something different: those who you might expect to fight against pseudoscience are turning a blind-eye — or in some cases spreading it. This is the phenomenon of sex denial: the rejection of one of the most basic facts of biology in the name of ideology.
I’ve spent much of my career fighting against pseudoscience. I worked with the legendary sceptic James Randi to debunk homeopathy; I’ve also battled climate denialists and anti-vaxxers. I know pseudoscience when I see it. Sex-denial is a classic of the genre, using all the same techniques to sow confusion and misinformation. Their target is the seemingly uncontroversial, indeed obvious, fact that humans can be female or male.
Here’s what the science says: there are only two human sexes. That’s because there are only two types of gamete (the sex cells — egg and sperm). Humans (like all mammals) can develop along one of two pathways: towards making eggs (female) and towards making sperm (male). If anyone ever finds a third sex it would be a discovery on a par with finding a new continent — with a guaranteed Nobel prize. Until you see those headlines, you can rest assured there are exactly two sexes.
A small number of people have disorders or variations in their sex development (VSDs) meaning some aspect of their anatomy or genetic makeup may be atypical. But most people with VSDs are still clearly and unambiguously male or female. Indeed, most would consider it offensive to say that just because some part of your body is atypical that you are less of a male or less of a female. In a tiny subset it can be difficult to distinguish whether someone is male or female — sometimes called intersex conditions — but these likely account for less than 0.02 per cent of births. So, the overwhelming majority of people are unequivocally female or male, with their sex fixed from before they’re born to the moment they die. None of this is remotely new or controversial (at least in science).
Biological sex exists and it matters — most obviously because the existence of the human race depends on it. You can’t make a human baby without a male and a female — yet the sex-denialists hardly ever mention reproduction. Which is odd since that’s precisely why sex exists. Sex also matters for a host of other reasons. It influences your height, weight, strength and lifespan. It determines your likelihood of getting breast cancer or testicular cancer, heart attacks, mental illness, even your chance of dying from Covid-19. Denying sex is dangerous as well as disingenuous.
So what exactly do the sex-denialists claim? Like climate-deniers or flat-earthers, there’s no single alternative theory — rather a hodge-podge of different claims designed to confuse the public and push an ideological agenda. At the most extreme there are those who flat out deny the reality of sex. “It is not correct that there is such thing as biological sex”, says Prof Nicholas Matte at the University of Toronto. Dawn Butler, a British MP and the Labour Party’s Shadow Minister for Women and Equalities, said on national television: “A child is born without sex.” What is so extraordinary about this claim is that it is so obviously untrue. At least the flat-earthers have some degree of everyday experience on their side: it’s easy to forget we’re on a spinning ball of rock. But to deny something that everyone knows and experiences every day is bizarre — and of course not supported by any science.
Another approach is to accept that the sexes exist but imply they’re a human invention, like faiths or football teams. For instance, Chase Strangio of the ACLU says, “The notion of “biological sex” was developed for the exclusive purpose of being weaponised against people.” This is a classic pseudoscience confidence trick. Of course it’s true that all scientific concepts are in one sense human creations. Mammals, atoms, temperature and earthquakes are all concepts created by scientists. However, those concepts are useful precisely because they describe real aspects of the physical world. Surely no one would claim that these exist purely in our minds. Similarly, the reality of biological sex is a fundamental fact about all mammals that existed long before humans did — just as gravity existed long before Newton.
A third approach is to accept that sex exists but claim it’s so complicated that you really shouldn’t bother your pretty little head about it. A recent article in The Skeptic took this approach — drawing an analogy between the concept of sex and the concept of species. It’s true that there are cases where the borderline between species can get fuzzy — for instance hybrid polar and grizzly bears can exist with the delightful name of pizzly bears. But such rare cases don’t invalidate the concept of species — indeed biology would be impossible without it. The overwhelming majority of vertebrate animals are members of a single species — just as most humans are members of a single sex.
Whereas most popular science articles are trying to take a complex subject and make it seem simple, articles like these strive to take a simple concept and make it seem complex. The evidence is clear in one of the most unusual corrections I’ve ever seen. “This article was updated as it previously omitted a reference to primary sexual characteristics.” That’s right — an article all about the reality of biological sex “forgot” to mention the primary sexual characteristics. This is deliberate scientific obfuscation.
So why would anyone want to deny something as important and obvious as sex? Perhaps it is the misguided belief that obscuring the reality of sex will help trans people. It is of course important to distinguish between sex and gender or gender identity (someone’s internal sense of who they are and the social roles they fulfil). There are people whose biological sex and gender identity do not match: trans people. I believe people should be free to self-identify as whatever gender they wish. However, one can no more self-identify one’s sex than you can self-identify your height.
This needn’t be a problem — we can celebrate that there are people who want to break out of the traditional roles and social expectations associated with their sex. But the new ideology says that a trans person doesn’t merely change their gender, they change their sex — even if they’ve had no surgery or hormone treatment. This means believing that someone can have a body identical to that of a typical male and yet in fact be female purely through the act of identifying as such. The only way to make that falsehood true is to demolish the very notion of biological sex.
Without the truth on their side, the sex denialists’ only option is to shut down discussion. Anyone who dares question the ideology faces insults, abuse and even violence. It’s an approach that has proven highly successful. Despite this being an issue of great public interest, very few scientists or science journalists have made any attempt to communicate what the science says. When I approached the Science Media Centre, which prides itself on being able to find scientists to talk on even the most controversial subjects, they said they were unable to provide a single expert. Places that once championed rationality and evidence like the Freethought Blog now explicitly ban those who dare present views on the existence of biological sex that they consider heretical.
When a biologist tweeted that stating biological facts is not bigotry, she was attacked by the very body you might expect to support her — The Royal Society of Biology — which labelled her comments as “transphobia”. Perhaps there was some detail of the science she got wrong — in which case you would expect this learned society to point out the error. But despite numerous attempts to find out what was incorrect about her statements, they have refused to answer. Even at its most censorious — the Catholic Church would tell blasphemers what their crime was. The modern witch-burners won’t even do that — they will rarely even discuss their claims with anyone who does not already share their beliefs.
Even one of the world’s best-known biologists isn’t safe. Prof. Richard Dawkins recently tweeted to ask whether there was a difference between self-identifying your race and self-identifying your sex/gender. This was the final straw for the American Humanist Association which duly stripped him of a 25-year-old lifetime award — something they’d only done once before when a recipient was accused of serious sexual harassment. Humanism is supposed to stand for rationality and freedom of thought, but for the AHA it seems heresy is still a crime punishable by excommunication. These are far from isolated examples. Many academics, particularly women, have faced threats and harassment merely for daring to talk about biological sex. There is no clearer demonstration that sex denialists are charlatans; their only weapons are creating fear and confusion. It’s time the rest of us stood up to them.
984 notes · View notes
iblameashley · 1 month
Text
Ghost Falls Silent, Simon Stands
Civilian | Male | Gay
3,800~ words
Content: Hospitalization, recovery, cohabitation, use of 'lad' (gendered language?), nightmares, gay stuff, fluff, happy ending.
Follow up to Something to look forward to
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley | Male
!!!SFW!!!
When Simon "Ghost" Riley is injured protecting you, his recovery means a month confined to home - that is, after two weeks of sedation in the base medical wing. Captain Price requests you stay and assist. Through highs and lows, you stand steadfast by Ghost's side. As feelings begin to emerge, Ghost must confront what it means to open his heart some more and whether a future beyond warfare could truly be possible or if he'll continue fighting alone.
Tag List: @a-sleepy-dissapointment
Tumblr media
(Thanks to @loneghostwolf for permission to use this image)
You had been sitting outside of Simon's room in the medical wing as Price came along to have a 'talk' with him. You weren't too far from the door, but were close enough to hear Price's deep, commanding voice as he scolded Simon like a father would to a child.
Simon had been protesting his medical leave recommended by the staff. There was rarely an opportunity for them to get the Ghost in for any type of examination, and now that he had been there for a little over two weeks, they were recommending a month of medical leave, and this did not go over well with Simon.
So Price had made a request of you first, asking if you'd be willing to continue to watch over Simon when Price sent him home for recovery. You of course agreed, you'd become rather fond of that lumbering, stoic idiot.
And now here you were, unintentionally eavesdropping on Price and Simon.
“Simon Riley, I swear to God if you fuck this friendship up, I will put a bullet in you myself, you damn muppet!” Price fired back.
“I'm good to go, Price. The wound is healed, I just need a little training to get back into proper form... it shouldn't take more than a couple days at most, sir.” Simon replied, clearly trying to charm his way back into work with his confident tone.
Price was having none of it.
“Absolutely not.” Price shot him down without question. “I can't spare this room much longer, I can't spare Soap or Gaz to watch over your ass for a whole month, and I can't trust you to sit down and relax on base for the next month.” He grumbled with annoyance. “My best option is that wonderful lad out there who, for some reason, has been here for you since you were brought in. No complaints and no problems. He wants to be here, he wants to be your friend, and he wants to watch over you for the next month!”
Price stopped his tongue-lashing long enough to catch his breath, and Simon sat silently for a moment as his brain processed everything.
You of course were sitting in the corridor with a shit-eating grin on your face. Price was likely the only person on Earth who could talk to Simon this way and live, and it tickled you to know that Simon would bend to Price's will if enough pressure was applied.
“Fine.” Simon finally huffed. He surrendered to Price's demand. “But...”
“No 'buts', Simon. He will be accompanying you back to your flat and staying with you for the next month.”
You didn't need to be in the room to know the look Simon had on his face.
“Fine.” He said again in a tempestuous tone.
An image of Simon sitting in the bed with his arms crossed came to mind and you let out a breathy chuckle.
“When will I be discharged into his care?” Simon asked, pulling you from you daydream.
“Seventeen hundred hours, when he's technically finished his work for the day. You'll be loaded into a vehicle together and driven home.” Price explained. “I've already gone ahead and had Soap and Gaz prepare your flat for the two of you, since they had a few hours to spare today. You'll have groceries stocked and beds turned down. Soap may have ate the chocolates meant for the pillows, though.” Price joked.
With nothing more to say, Simon was resigned to his fate.
“Good lad.” Price said before leaving Simon's room. He flashed you a look and smile, “He'll be your problem in a few hours.”
“He always was.” You joked, giving Price a nod as he continued on his way down the corridor.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Day 4
Its been four days. Four.
You woke up to the smell of something burning and a voice cursing form the kitchen in a Manchester accent. Simon. You threw the blankets back and begrudgingly sat up from the small cot Gaz and Soap had placed in the den of Simon's flat for you. It took a moment to gather your thoughts and boot your brain up enough to wander out into the kitchen to see some charcoal – apparently eggs – in the frying pan on the stove. There were some sausages cooking in another pan as well. Simon was limping around the kitchen looking for a solution.
“Little early in the morning to be trying to kill us both, don't ya' think?” You yawn as you walked over to the stove and pulled the pan off, tossing the chunks of eggs into the sink.
“I didn't ask for a babysitter.” Simon grunted. You notice him wince as he reached for something on the top cupboard, and you shake your head.
You drop the burnt pan into the sink and grab a new one, not quite hiding your frustration.
“Then stop acting like a fucking baby.” You shot back with a bit more vitriol than intended. “Think you can manage a cup of coffee for me and some tea for yourself?” You shot a second time, flashing him a tired and irritable look.
“Think so.” He grunted before moving to grab a couple of mugs.
You grabbed a fresh pan and placed it on the burner, turning the heat down and waiting a few minutes before cracking some fresh eggs. This man could dismantle bombs and take on multiple men in hand-to-hand, but was seemingly lost in his own kitchen.
“How do you like your eggs?” You asked, already cooking some sunny-side up eggs for yourself.
“D'innit matter.” Simon said as he worked away to prepare some drinks.
You shrugged and cracked some more eggs into the pan. Sunny-side up all around.
“Why are you so damn stubborn, Si?” You asked, tying to mask the sadness in your voice. You knew why, it was easy to figure out with a man like Simon Riley, but a part of you wanted to hear it from him.
“Don't need anyone to take care of me. Been takin' care of myself long enough.” His voice betrayed his words and you were, of course, unconvinced of his statement.
“Well... I'm here to help while you recover. I already agreed to do the cooking and cleaning while you caught up on paperwork – which was generous of Price to allow – and getting yourself back in shape for deployment.” You remind him, aiming the spatula at him.
Simon took a seat at the kitchen table as the water boiled in the kettle and simply stared at you. You were right, but it would be a cold day in hell before he said it out loud.
By the time the food was ready, Simon had a steaming mug of coffee for you and a tea for himself. You plated the eggs and sausages, as well as some toast you had made.
“Eggs... without a kitchen fire or the fire department. Enjoy.” You winked at him while buttering some toast.
“Thanks.” He mumbled into his tea.
Despite the attitude Simon had been giving you, you knew his gratitude ran deeper than he let on. He did eventually give you a small smile while he ate, which helped lighten your own mood, though you still had twenty-six days to go.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Day 10
You were sitting in the living room with Simon, tapping away at your laptop as you worked well into the evening. You'd fallen behind in your work and decided to spend some time today catching up – and you were almost done as the storm outside really began to rage.
There was a crash of thunder that startled you; Simon looked over and his chest heaved as he silently laughed at you.
“Control... S” You murmured to yourself as you saved your work. Lessons had been learned years ago about this very situation.
“Power's bound to go out soon.” Simon sighed as he closed his book – one you had bought him at the market.
No sooner had those words escaped his lips than the lights flickered.
Then again.
And then died, plunging you both into almost complete darkness, your face illuminated by the dimmed screen of your laptop. Without the sounds of appliances or the TV, you could hear the roar of wind and pattering of the rain on the windows.
“I'll get the candles.” Simon advised as he got up off the couch.
You closed the lid of your laptop and got out your phone, turning on the flashlight and following close behind him. “I'll help.” You volunteered, tossing your laptop aside and jumping from the chair.
Soon his living room was flickering with the warm light from the candles. You sat on the couch next to him silently as the storm continued outside; you'd kill for wi-fi right now.
You pulled the skull throw you had gifted Simon from the back of the couch and wrapped it around you. It wasn't particularly cold, but it was comforting. You didn't have the courage to tell Simon you had a minor, teeny fear of the dark.
“Y'know... this storm reminds me of a camping trip I took when I was a bit younger.” You said, breaking the silence.
Simon simply stared at you, waiting for you to continue.
“Well, I stupidly dropped my compass and broke it... that should have been the first sign of things to come.” You chuckled as you recalled the memory. “Then of course the storm moved in and drenched me. I ran to cover, totally forgetting that you aren't supposed to take shelter under trees. A bolt of lightening reminded me as it struck several trees nearby.” You exhaled loudly, a smile playing on your face as you remembered just how close a call that experience was. “But because I also happen to have an overactive imagination, and was full of adrenaline and fear already, I could have sworn I saw a pale figure staring at me from the trees. It shrieked like a banshee and I damn near pissed myself. I was a Goddamn mess when I finally made my way back to my friends.” You let out an awkward laugh and looked over to Simon.
“Sounds terrifying.” Simon replied in his usual flat tone, though his eyes did dance with interest as he stared you down. “You're a brave lad to have emerged from that and carried on.”
There was no undertone of sarcasm of teasing in his tone, catching you off guard.
“You have any 'scary' stories?” You asked him, making yourself more comfortable under the throw.
“Aye..." MacTavish's influence seeped through. "...got a real spine tingling one for ya.” Simon nodded.
He leaned in close and lowered his voice. His eyes narrowed and he stared intently at you. “I was once a child.” He deadpanned.
You desperately wanted to keep your composure, but you felt the twitching of your lips as you started to crack. You let out a shaky chuckle before breaking into a full on laughing.
As you wiped the tears from your eyes, you could see Simon sitting back slightly, a tiny smile tugging at his lips in the dim light of the candlelit room.
“You're such a cunt.” You tittered.
Shifting his tone, Simon cleared his throat. “Thank you.” He rumbled alongside the thunder. “...its not so terrible, having you around.” He confessed.
The earnestness of the words surprised you; an admission you could never have predicted Simon to make.
“...and no one will ever believe you if you tell them I said that.”
There is was. You rolled your eyes.
“You're tolerable.” You shurg.
Simon chuckled, enjoying the playful banter between you two in the darkness of his flat. Even if parts of him were screaming to stop opening up to you.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Day 21
You woke up groggy and confused as something slammed hard against the floor. It was coming from Simon's room and you moved as quickly as your heavy body would allow to get out of bed.
Walking down the hallway, you could hear the terrified sounds of Simon's distress. Standing at the doorway, you hesitated; your hand hovering over the door knob. Should you really go in? Simon's room was a bit off-limits since you agreed to watch over him. You had wanted to ensure he had one space to himself.
CRASH!
Something else hit the floor. You sigh and grip the door knob, turning it slowly and pushing the door open cautiously.
“Simon?” You murmured through the crack in the door.
You could see Simon thrashing around in the darkness of his room, unable to wake up from the nightmare that was consuming him. He was murmuring someone's name and pleading. Pleading! Simon!
“Fuck it.” You declared, resigning yourself to whatever fate awaited you.
“Simon.” You say, giving him a firm shake. “Simon!” You say louder.
You opened the door a bit further – enough to walk through – and strode over to his bed. You leaned down close to him, and once again hesitated. You looked around to see his lamp and phone on the floor and a spilled glass of water.
Turning your attention back to Simon, you placed a hand over his damp shoulder.
Simon doesn't wake up, stuck in the depths of his terror.
You muster up the courage to do something you never thought you'd do; yell at Simon Riley.
“SIMON, WAKE THE FUCK UP!” You howl at him.
His eyes snap open and he shoots up in bed; his chest heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat, it take him a moment to orient himself.
As his eyes fall on you, and shame creeps into his eyes. You were never supposed to see this. You shouldn't be in here and he shouldn't be this weak in front of you.
You reach out and place your hand on his bicep, giving it a squeeze.
“Are you okay, Simon?” You ask in a soft, concerned voice.
He turns away from you, his chest still heaving but doesn't answer. A bit of ego, but mostly humiliation.
He shrugs your hand off of him and all you do is smile.
“Okay, okay... be that way.” You tease him as you turn to his end table. You pick up the lamp and place it back on the tabletop, then place his phone beside it. “You're safe now.” You speak tenderly to him.
You stand and give him a stare for a moment before leaving his room.
Returning a couple minutes later with a small towel, you kneel down and clean up the spilled water as Simon just sits on his bed.
“You seem calmer now.” You remark as you wad up the towel and toss it to his laundry basket.
“'M fine.” He grumbles.
Liar.
“Alright.” You nod, though he's still not looking at you.
You stand up and sit on his bed, your back to him. You take a deep breath before swivelling yourself around and laying down on the bed beside him.
“...and what are you doing?” Simon rumbles as he feels the weight of your body moving on the mattress.
“What I was asked to do. Take care of you for a month.” You reply bluntly.
You make yourself comfortable beside him, choosing a particularly plump and soft pillow to rest your head on.
“Don't need your help.” Simon protests.
“Sounds like a you problem, Si.” You fire back, pulling your phone from your PJ pocket and unlocking it. “I'm staying, as per Prices request.” You didn't explain that you'd text Price when you left and he'd given you 'orders'.
Simon sits there through seven rounds of solitaire, two crosswords, and a good twenty minutes of scrolling through socials before he finally concedes and lays down beside you. He drapes his arms over his stomach as he stretches out and relaxes; as much as Simon Riley relaxes.
“Don't wanna talk about it.”
You don't look away from your phone.
“Don't have to.” You reply.
“You don't need to know what goes on in my fucked up head because of my fucked up life and job.” He continues.
You like a particularly cute video of a puppy.
“Fair enough. We're all entitled to our secrets.” You nod.
“Did I... say anything?” Simon prods, curious and anxious.
You lower your phone a bit and look over at him. You purse your lips and think about how to respond. So far, you've never lied to Simon, and you don't exactly want to start now.
“Well?” He asks after you hesitate a little too long.
“Yes.” You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“What did I say?” Simon inquires, a bit of horror framing his face.
“I thought you didn't want to talk about it?” The words come out a bit harsher than you intended, and you're already cursing yourself.
“What did I say?” He repeats with annoyance.
You let out a sigh and rest your phone on your chest.
“You were begging.” You reply. You roll your head to the side to look at him. “You were begging for forgiveness and to 'switch places' or something to that extent.” You confess to him, barely managing to choke out the words.
“Fuckin' hell...” Simon grumbles. He stares up at his ceiling. “I....”
“You have terrible taste in people.” He says in an almost teasing tone.
You don't let him finish, “You don't have to say any more, Simon. Not if you don't want to.” You explain. You reach over and tap his abdomen with the back of your hand. “I just want you to know that I don't think any less of you. Never could.”
That elicits a deep laugh from Simon as he shakes his head.
“So I'm told.” You reply, going back to your phone.
“You're really not going to leave, are you?” He asks suddenly.
“What do you mean? Here and now, or before the month is over? Or... ever?” You question him, resting the back of one hand on his body.
“All of the above, 'spose.” He shrugs.
“I'm not leaving. All of the above.” You reply earnestly.
You both fall into a comfortable silence as Simon considers what you've said.
After a half hour or more, Simon hears a thud. Turning to look at you, he notices you've dropped your phone on the floor and are fast asleep on his bed.
You roll over on your side and Simon lets out a low grunt, feigning annoyance – though he's not sure why – before he sighs and grabs the blanket and pulls it over you.
He rolls over so his back is to you and closes his eyes. Somehow your presence here relaxes him enough to let him get a couple hours of sleep.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Day 30
Maybe domestic life was for you after all. It had been a full month since Price had made his request and here you were; In Simon's kitchen and cooking him one last breakfast before you packed up and returned to your own flat.
Simon had spent most of the early morning in his room just laying on his bed before eventually rolling out and jumping in the shower.
As you finished preparing the large, artery-clogging breakfast of sausages, eggs, hash browns, pancakes and bacon, Simon finally emerged in gym shorts and a tank top.
“Ready to kick my arse out?” You asked, suppressing the tinge of sadness that welled inside you. You really did like being here this last month, though it was difficult to tell if he felt the same way.
Simon huffed and made his way to the table where a tea – just the way he likes it – and took a seat, staring at the back of your head.
He took a sip and thought it over for a moment. “Y've been a goddamn nag.” He finally said, a smile on his face.
“All a part of the job!” You fired back, turning to give him a wide grin.
“Still no idea how Price talked you into it.” Simon mused, looking away.
You pate the mountain of food for the both of you and join Simon at the table. You lean back in your chair and pick up a piece of bacon, eyeing it before taking a bite.
“Didn't take much, to be honest.” You shrug.
Simon defaulted to his usual gruff grunt, “Guess if hasn't been entirely unpleasant to have you around.” He confessed. He couldn't help but fight his own happiness.
“Someone had to make sure you didn't burn the place down.” You tease. "And we nipped that in the bud on day four."
Simon digs into the breakfast you've made for him, silently chewing away and ignoring your joke.
You sipped at your coffee and ate your breakfast as well.
This was a moment that seemed to stretch on for a while, neither of you wanting to admit how the last month truly affected you.
“Y'know...” You say, breaking the silence. “We never did see that movie.” You remind him. Through everything that's happened since Simon was injured, neither of you actually ended up dragging the other to that stupid movie.
You give a shrug. There will be plenty of time for movies.
Simon simply looked up at you and continued to eat.
“It's good.” He said, holding up a forkful of food.
You could tell he was uncomfortable, but you couldn't figure out why. It couldn't have been about the movie.
Maybe it reminded him of being stabbed? Unlikely.
Or maybe he felt... disappointed? Like he let you down?
You could just ask, but that was too easy, and you were both too stubborn to talk about it outright.
“I'll be heading out just after noon, if that's fine with you? I just need to do some work before I leave.” You practically murmur.
“'S fine.” Simon nodded.
As you finished your breakfast and placed your plate in the sink, Simon surprised you with what he said.
“How about tonight?” He asked.
You turned to look at him with a confused look on your face.
He was still sitting at the table with his phone in hand.
“The movie. Its still playing... how about tonight?” He asked again.
You nodded. “Y-yeah. Tonight works for me. What time?”
“Eleven-hundred hours. You... can stay the night again. My flat is closer to the theatre than yours.”
You were too shocked to say anything, so you just nodded again.
Staying another night.
With Simon.
You were brimming with stupid amounts of joy.
136 notes · View notes
thewertsearch · 8 months
Text
AG: Tavros, you give confidence a 8ad name. I gave you all the chances in the world to earn it, to earn REAL confidence, and you failed.
Tumblr media
Pictured: Vriska giving Tavros 'a chance to earn real confidence'.
AG: You couldn't even do the one little thing I asked you to! The one thing that would have made you man up once and for all.
'Man up' is a funny idiom for a troll to use. We've occasionally seen trolls fall into human gender stereotypes, but it's quite rare, and always sticks out like a sore thumb.
There's an interesting conversation to be had about troll genders. With a reproductive cycle so different to ours, their gender framework will inevitably be different as well. Yes, there are male and female trolls - but what do male and female actually mean to a troll?
On Earth, your assigned gender carries cultural baggage which simply wouldn't exist on Alternia. Assigned gender plays no role in reproduction, nor does it influence household division of labor, since trolls don't have households.
Gender aside, do trolls have a concept of masculine and feminine? Beyond a few stray idioms, the only evidence I can find is their clothing styles. We haven't seen any male trolls rocking a skirt - not yet, at least.
tl;dr: 'Man up' is a cultural can of worms. I think that was probably unintentional, though, and I think we're supposed to interpret that line as if a human spoke it. Vriska's calling Tavros a wimp, which is business as usual.
AG: So instead you flew away and cried, and decided to sleep away your sorrow for the rest of the adventure.
Tavros already alluded to this incident during his conversation with Jade. I guessed that Vriska would be involved, but that was a bit of a no-brainer.
Vriska's trying to frame Tavros as pathetic, but it sounds like he actually put his foot down, flat-out refusing to participate in whatever she had planned. Much like the FLARP incident, this sounds like a victory for Tavros, even if she's convinced him otherwise.
AG: Do you have any idea how sick that made me? Everything a8out you makes me sick.
He rejects your advice. He rejects your advances. His lusus cared for him. He was allowed to be kind, and accepts kindness from others. He doesn't care about winning, but he never lets you win. No matter how much you torment him, he refuses to get any stronger, which means your mindset might be wrong.
'Sick' would be an understatement.
AG: Your plan to control her lusus really wasn't a 8ad idea! AG: And using your a8ility to "save her life" (lol) was a pretty good way to test how effective your powers are across sessions. [...] AG: Practicing your a8ilities is important, so when it comes down to using them for something that really matters, you know you're ready for prime time. AG: I know this first hand. AG: I got lots and lots and LOTS of practice with your little guinea pig friend. ::::D
So that's why Jade was constantly napping? That can't have been good for her brain.
Tumblr media
AG: The catch is it's not going to work! [...] AG: You couldn't sic the guardian on Noir even if you were inclined. Not even if I were to MAKE you inclined! :::;)
Like I said before, it's really Vriska who can control First Guardians.
Tumblr media
AG: 8ecause you are dealing with a pro here. I already thought of that. AG: I thought of everything! AG: The guardian is not going to attack the agents who engineered him in the first place. AG: Or who I should say were "encouraged" (lol) to engineer him.
Why the fuck would you do this?
Tumblr media
When Vriska prototyped Bec, she explained that the event was mandated by the Alpha Timeline, so she didn't make anything worse by causing it. I don't agree with her argument, but I do understand her logic.
This is different. Up until now, there has been no evidence that Bec can't harm Agents. Vriska had no prophecy to fulfil, and no reason to believe that this was required to preserve the timeline. Yes, now we know it's baked into the timeline, but only because Vriska wanted it.
Having Bec help with Jack was a really good idea, and removing the option to do so helps no one. Where's the benefit?
AT: wHY WOULD YOU DO THAT, AG: Tavros, at this point it should 8e o8vious. AG: I am the unseen hand 8ehind every major event in their session, and to some extent, their whole lives. AG: At least those events not happening 8y the volition of their own natural incompetence! AG: Don't you think this is how it should 8e? Shouldn't the greatest player leave her fingerprints on every step of the rise to power of her ultim8 nemesis?
I know Vriska likes to feel in control, but this is ridiculous.
Inserting yourself into Alpha loops is one thing, but nerfing Bec when you don't have to is straight-up sabotage. Couldn't she just stick to micromanaging John's outfits?
Tumblr media
AG: I have every angle covered already. The human session is on full Serket lockdown. Any effort you make to disrupt my plans will 8e laugha8le, just like everything you have ever done in your life. AG: The only thing left to do now is prepare to kill Jack myself, and save everyone's ungrateful asses.
Oh my god, I think I've cracked it.
Vriska thinks she's the only one with the right to kill Jack.
She describes him as her ultimate nemesis, which reeks of main character syndrome. Bec isn't important enough to kill Jack, so she eliminated him as an option. It has to be her, the most powerful Player, who's gained all the levels, because that is how these things are done.
It's not just ego, either - there's a deeper motivation at play. If Vriska doesn't beat Jack, she doesn't win - and if she doesn't win, then what was all that abuse were all those challenges for? What was the point?
In Vriska's head, Jack needs to be her nemesis. She needs to be destined to kill him - because if she is, then everything she went through was justified. She'll have secured her position as the most powerful Player of all, and she'll never have to be jealous of anyone again - least of all that wimp with his sweet little fairy lusus. They're all weak, and she's strong.
If she doesn't kill Jack, she's a loser.
Tumblr media
And losers may as well be dead.
235 notes · View notes
creature-wizard · 2 months
Text
I dunno if anybody's ever pointed this out before, but transphobic rhetoric and the flat earth conspiracy theory work exactly the same.
They both propose that scientific truth is best determined by what you can immediately observe with your own two very eyes, and anyone who tries to tell you that it's more complicated than that and that your eyes aren't giving you the whole picture, is either a brainwashed sheep or a malicious actor.
Flat Earthers will tell you that a round Earth is provably scientific nonsense because if you go look at the ocean you'll only see a level plane, if you look up in the sky the sun and moon are obviously the same size, and scientists have never observed gravity on actual spherical objects, like tennis balls. (Oh, why do objects fall? Why, it's just relative density, silly! Anyone can observe that!) Anything that threatens to complicate this tidy little picture is dismissed as irrelevant - pseudoscience, misinterpretation of data, whatever.
Transphobes claim transgender is anti-scientific because it doesn't align with simplistic concepts they received in grade school - you can see there's two kinds of genitalia and that's that. You can't see this "gender identity" thing with your very own eyes, so it clearly doesn't exist, and you're stupid for even considering it. Anything that threatens to complicate this tidy little picture is dismissed as irrelevant - mental illness, birth defect, creep behavior, whatever.
Again, Flat Earthers don't consider themselves anti-science. They consider themselves pro-science. They just think that science is best determined by what you can observe with your own two eyeballs, and anybody who tells you it's more complicated than that is malicious or a dupe. Just like transphobes who claim that only sex is real.
94 notes · View notes
redberryterf · 2 months
Note
Follow-up ask: if gender identity is nonsense then what makes you think you are a woman? answer: your gender identity.
...my body? woman is not a fucking feeling you dumb sexist. gtfo of my page if you can't understand the most basic facts of life. we are done with people like you. people like you should be mocked until you realize how brainwashed you are. I have argued against this pseudoscience for almost 10 years and I am done with this bs. I have realized that you gendies can't understand reason so you should be openly mocked like any crazy people who believe some crazy shit for no reason. but even flat earth theory makes more sense than you claiming "woman" and "man" are some type of feelings. LMAO wake up.
73 notes · View notes