#comparative overview

[missholoska]

me, a little over 2 years ago:

me now:

whoops

[crustaceousfaggot]

The Terror is the first fandom I've been in where the agreed upon next step for people who enjoyed the show isn't "read the book the show was based on" but rather "start with this 300 page anthropology book and go from there"

[ganondoodle]

current art mood are these posts i saw in the clip studio help board

[idontmindifuforgetme]

i love anthologies. anthologies are so sexy

[truenotnew]

"The overview effect is a cognitive shift reported by some astronauts while viewing the Earth from space.Researchers have characterized the effect as "a state of awe with self-transcendent qualities, precipitated by a particularly striking visual stimulus". The most prominent common aspects of personally experiencing the Earth from space are appreciation and perception of beauty, unexpected and even overwhelming emotion, and an increased sense of connection to other people and the Earth as a whole.The effect can cause changes in the observer's self concept and value system, and can be transformative."

⸻

Missing the Mark: Christianity Without Contact

The Overview Effect is a term astronauts use to describe a shift in perception. Seeing the Earth from orbit changes how they see everything: borders, identity, meaning. And here’s the thing—they knew it was coming. They’d read the reports. They’d heard the stories.

But then it happens.

And it still profoundly affects them.

Because it’s not an idea—it’s a rupture. They don’t believe something new. They see what was always there, now without the imposition of arbitrary divisions.

Meanwhile, many Christians never even get on the spaceship because They’re too busy arguing about what they heard about heaven from someone else who's only read about it. All while their pastor is saying spaceships and a open experiential perspective are demonic because Constantine and King James said so.

This isn’t about space. It’s a metaphor illustrating the difference between conceptual and direct experience and how that relates to Christianity.

Because much of Christianity has become a religion of people arguing over maps they’ve never used. Concepts without contact. Dogma without experience. Speaking authoritatively about the view from orbit when they have never left the ground metaphorically speaking.

⸻

Transpersonal Experience is Open Awareness

Not belief.

Not morality.

Not theology.

Open awareness—the direct, unfiltered, nonconceptual seeing of what’s here as being not theoretical description of it.

The falling away of the self-image.

The end of story.

The recognition that there is no separation.

No subject-object split.

No “me” apart from “them.”

That’s the shift. That’s what every authentic tradition is pointing to.

That’s what Jesus pointed to when he said, “The Kingdom of God is within you.”

It’s not a promise.

It’s not metaphor.

It’s a statement of fact for those with eyes to see.

Many Christians Think They Get It. Some do tho historically they have been silenced, violently at times. That said Many in fact do not get it. This is observable fact. Anytime see a Christian causing harm in the name of Christ you have a perfect example of this. The gospel of James speaks to this.

Quoting scripture doesn’t mean contact.

Feeling inspired doesn’t mean contact.

Defending doctrine definitely doesn’t mean contact.

If your sense of self has not collapsed, even momentarily,

If you have not seen through the illusion of separateness,

If you still think of God as something “other,”

You are not speaking from the thing.

And that’s fine...until you build culture, laws, politics, and moral hierarchies on that ignorance.

Then it’s not just misguided. It’s violent.

⸻

Hamartia: Missing Reality

The word translated as “sin” is hamartia. It means: to miss the mark.

And the mark isn’t behavior. It’s reality.

To sin is to identify with the avatar.

To take the thoughts in your head as who you are.

To cling to belief instead of presence.

To say “God is love” and still think there’s a boundary between you and your neighbor.

You don’t need forgiveness.

You need to repent, aka see reality clearly.

⸻

Other Traditions Point to the Same Thing

They all name the same shift:

• Satori (Zen)

• Moksha (Vedanta)

• Fana (Sufism)

• Gnosis (Gnosticism)

• Theosis (Christian mysticism)

• Nirvana/Rigpa (Buddhism)

• Ego death, nonduality, awakening, open awareness

These are not competing ideas.

They are descriptions of the same shift in perception.

The language changes. The structure doesn’t.

⸻

Love Thy Neighbor as Thyself—Because There Is No Other

This isn’t moral instruction.

This isn’t divine suggestion.

This is a description of reality seen clearly.

When the illusion of separation drops,

you don’t try to love your neighbor.

You don’t choose to forgive.

You don’t apply compassion.

You see that there’s no one else there.

The rest follows.

⸻

This Is the Divide

Not between Christians and non-Christians.

Not between saved and unsaved.

The divide is between:

• Those who’ve seen through the illusion of self

• And those still defending it with scripture

Everyone has glimpsed it.

Few recognize it.

Fewer trust it.

Even fewer live from it.

But it’s there.

Always.

Beneath the noise.

Before the belief.

Now.

Its a safe to say many of if not most Christians that read this will not understand what I'm saying and possibly get offended and defensive. The sad part is, it's expected because the bible explicitly indicates how this ignorance manifests. And yet and still.

How can you see this for yourself? Be still and know God. In a pragmatic way...

I'll attempt to articulate my perspective on the practical approach. Firstly imho if observing the breath without interfering with or altering it is challenging, it's probably going to be as challenging if not moreso to observe more subtle objects like  thoughts, the mind, the sense of self or awareness itself. This may just be a distinction that exists at the relative level of egoic perception but there seems to be a nuanced hierarchy from gross to subtle. some will say it's all phenomenon in awareness and they might be right but the paradox is getting to that realization. Looking is a process, seeing is immediate. From my observation It's not impossible to experience sustained (ie days weeks months years etc) open awareness (aka no observable perception of border between self and other experientially) without a cultivating practice but there seems to be a valid reason why all of the well known spiritual traditions (even Christianity which is arguably fundamentally non-dual presented pedagogically in dual language) promote some degree of mindfulness scaffolded by relative contextual moral frameworks. These frameworks matter and serve a valid valuable purpose but they can be and indeed have been weaponized to harm others and ultimately become an obstruction to seeing the very moon they were constructed to point at.

One might say that the entirety of the bible is divinely designed to put this in perspective but one must adjust their perspective to see what is actually being said.

I'll attempt to illustrate this from another perspective.

The Fall in Eden can be understood not just as a moral allegory, but as a metaphor for the emergence of self-awareness in human development. This shift is mirrored in the mirror self-recognition test, when a child, usually between 15 and 24 months, recognizes its reflection as self. This moment marks the rise of ego, the awareness of subject and object, and the loss of pre-reflective unity with the world — echoing the biblical bite from the Tree of Knowledge, which introduced the awareness of duality.

Before this, the infant exists in a non-dual state, with no concept of self as separate. There is only immediacy and unfiltered experience — what might be called Eden. Studies show some animals cross this threshold too, suggesting it reflects a deep cognitive transformation.

Jesus’ words, “Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven,” speak to returning to this non-dual state. The “Kingdom of Heaven” is not a future realm or symbol, but an experiential reality — the same as Eden. His call to “repent” (metanoia) is not moral correction but a shift in consciousness, a move beyond egoic identity toward unity.

Spiritual realization traces a loop: from original unity, through ego development and separation, and back to unity — not by erasing the ego, but by seeing through it. The child cannot know reunion without first knowing separation. The adult who returns does so through transformation.

Eden and Heaven are not separate symbols but the same reality. They point to a state of being beyond duality. The Fall is not a failure but a necessary step. The return is not a prize but a recognition. The kingdom of God is within — the awareness before the mirror showed us our face.

[minecraft-diaries-rehydrated]

I miss you MCD arc list, you were so simple and slay u-u

[mickstart]

Hi! sorry can I ask? Are you british? And if so is the BBC trustworthy for news? I’ve tried following the news on Palestine there because I thought being british would have at least a little less bias than the news I get on my country or in my language, but it’s so weird how their narrative changes everyother day! I’m mostly reading al jazeera now,

Thanks!

Hey yeah I'm British and the BBC is hit and miss in terms of bias and accuracy. It used to be better but it is officially state funded media and therefore doesn't like to go against the government narrative, especially under the Tory government. Said government is extremely biased in favour of Israel and frankly I would intensely scrutinise any British media's reports on Palestine. Sometimes that bias is apparent in the BBC's reporting and sometimes they actually do journalism. It really seems to change day to day depending on which journalists are doing the work.

I think following al jazeera and Palestinian journalists is absolutely the best call here. Even if the BBC was a spotless perfect source, those are the people who are on the ground witnessing this horror or in personal contact with those who are, and I'd prioritise their accounts over the BBC's interpretation of their reporting. It's always best to get as close to the original source as you can.

[stardustsea]

My overall opinion on the rwrb movie is that it's very good as a standalone romance movie (not perfect but I wouldn't expect it to be) but it's not a very good adaptation of the book

[manilovesharks]

diagram 4 a friend

[meoun-uk]

Comparing UK and US Universities: A Comprehensive OverviewWhen it comes to pursuing higher education, students around the world often find themselves consider... https://www.meoun.uk/comparing-uk-and-us-universities-a-comprehensive-overview/?feed_id=24954&_unique_id=665fbade79886

[luulapants]

Some of you are falling hard for the Trump/Musk anti-federal worker propaganda. I think part of the problem is that a lot of people genuinely don't know how the federal government works, so here's an overview on the intended and current state of the so-called fourth branch of government, the federal bureaucracy:

Executive agencies are considered to be within the executive branch, officially, but can only be created, disbanded, funded, and have new leadership appointed through congressional approval. Well, in theory that is.

The majority of staff in federal agencies are called "career staff" who are nonpolitical civil servants who do every kind of work you can imagine, from IT to accounting to scientific field work to livestock inspections to nursing at VA hospitals. They do not, typically, change from one administration to the next, which is essential to ensure the government is able to continue functioning without interruption. These individuals of course can and do hold their own political opinions, but there are stringent rules on how, when, and where they can express them. It is arguably the most racially diverse workforce in the country. Many are veterans, and many are disabled.

Each agency is headed by a political office appointed by the president and confirmed by Congress. This includes a Secretary or Administrator and all of their hand-picked office staff, who are called "politicals." However, even before Congress confirms the president's nominee, the president can appoint an interim leader with no approval, who has essentially all the same powers but can't hold the position for very long. In short, even in those offices where a leader has not been confirmed by Congress, they are being led by Trump appointees.

When Trump makes an Executive Order, those orders are immediately dispensed through the executive agencies, who must abide by the letter of the order. I saw someone say NPS was "complying in advance" by taking the T off LGBT, but these changes were made across all agencies in direct response to Trump's "Defending Women" order. Any career who did not follow this order would have immediately been fired with cause, no unemployment eligibility, and in the current environment we also know their position would be permanently dissolved.

This is what we're dealing with right now. Trump (and his puppet master Musk) do not have the authority to dissolve government agencies, but they are trying to gut them, harassing careers and making the public turn against them, conducting illegal firings, threatening them into resigning. When people leave, their positions will disappear. Their intent is to diminish the staff until the agencies are non-functional. That's why careers are picking their battles. We're holding on by our fingernails to keep federal agencies alive and functioning. We're in the midst of a hostile takeover, a literal coup of the US government.

Yes, it's awful the T was removed on the website. We don't want this. But I promise that is small potatoes compared to the other battles being fought. I have trans coworkers being forced back to the office and they don't know what bathroom they can use. Our personal information is being leaked to hate groups. Careers are getting threats and spam to their work and personal emails. Most of us expect to be illegally fired. Soon. Last week was the largest layoff in American history, and it's just the beginning.

Please support federal workers. We are under attack.

[chaosintheavenue]

Going to have sporadic internet access over the next few days, so I'm planning to absolutely crack on with survey data crunching >:)

[knuppitalism-with-ue]

Not that much time plus technical difficulties yesterday meant that I only did one sketch on #paleostream. This is Chelonoidis pucara a new, giant tortoise from the Pleistocene of Argentina. I am exceptionally happy with this being published because of several reasons...

Firstly, until now we didn't have such giant tortoises from South America, although we have them plenty elsewhere in the Pleistocene and we are certainly not lacking in tortoises overall in SA. You can look at the paper btw here, it's open access: https://riviste.unimi.it/index.php/RIPS/article/view/27229

Secondly this fills for me an important personal gap, because a few years back I made this poster, that tries to give and overview of the giant tortoises that lived along the genus Homo and man, the south american gap always bugged me...

If you want to have a closer look at this poster or the other posters in the series - I covered tortoises, birds, elephants and crocodiles so far - you can do so here. I might put an update on the poster actually, did that before with the crocodiles.

ADDENDUM

I have indeed updated the poster! Chelonoides pucara is home!

[jo-speaks]

hi i love your writing 🥰i was wondering if u could do quinn with a clingy gf who just wants to be around him all the time

WITH YOU

OVERVIEW: in which being with quinn is where you feel best.

warnings: none!

You weren’t sure if it was his constant traveling or his natural charm that drew you to him like a magnet every time you were with him, but you just couldn’t get enough of your boyfriend. You were infatuated with him. His touch, his smell, everything. His presence wasn’t a want. It was a need.

As the sunlight shone through the blinds, Quinn’s eyebrows furrowed, his sleep disturbed by the slowly rising sun. He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, hoping to reach for his phone to check the time. However, his mobility was limited as your cheek rested on his chest, the rest of your body splayed above him as soft snores escaped your lips. 

Quinn smiled, the feeling of your warmth being something he constantly missed when he was away. The six-game-long roadie was enough to have him stilling his body completely, fully immersing himself in the moment. He brought his hand from where it rested lightly on the small of your back up to your hair, entangling his digits into the loose strands of your bun. 

The feeling of his touch – even in your sleep– had you sighing softly, your body melting impossibly into him. 

As much as he wanted the moment to last forever, that, unfortunately, wasn’t the reality for Quinn Hughes. Instead, his alarm went off, interrupting the complete and utter stillness of the morning. 

He let out a groan, rolling from his back to his side in order to move you off his body, allowing him to reach up and shut off the alarm, stretching his limbs with a lengthy moan. 

Standing up, he bid you one last look before sitting up and swinging his legs over the bed, grabbing his phone before making his way to the shower. He had always been one to play music while in the shower, his mind needing to be occupied with something else on the days where his mind felt scrambled and out of control.

He settled on a calmer playlist, a few jazz instrumental songs on the queue, not wanting to disrupt the calmness of the morning with heavy sounds before turning on the water to let it warm up.

As he stripped his boxers off, never having been one to sleep with much else, he could hear the slight rustling of the sheets. He didn’t think much of it, figuring you were just moving around to find more comfort in the sheets. The mirror began to fog up, the heat of the water engulfing the bathroom and allowing Quinn to step in the shower. 

The heat was nothing compared to yours, but it was enough to make his muscles relax, a soft sigh of relief slipping past his lips. 

His fingers ran through his hair, getting rid off all the sweat he had developed in his rest. Before he could even reach for the shampoo, he could hear the bathroom door open. A small smile appeared on his lips as he heard your sleep riddled voice call out to him.

“Quinn?” 

He let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah?” 

You said nothing in response, but he could hear you shuffle forward a little, the sound of your weight sitting down on the lid of the toilet. Your eyes blinked slowly, still not fully awake and in the moment. The bathroom was humid, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. All you cared for was feeling his presence close to you, even if it meant being a little too warm for a few minutes.

Quinn could hear your breathing relax and slow down before it picked up to a normal pace again. He was surprised that it was audible over the running water, but that was beside the point. He pulled the curtain to the side just enough to take a peek at you. He saw your eyes close slowly before shooting open again as your body started to slouch again. Your eyes met his, smiling at the sight of water dripping from his hair.

“You wanna join me, or are you gonna keep falling asleep on the toilet?” He teased.

You snorted, standing up and stripping off Quinn’s shirt from your body. He pulled the curtain open far enough for you to step in with him, his hand coming to your waist to guide you in. His grip tightened a little as he pulled you closer, your body flush with his. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the warmth you had woken up lacking. Relaxing further into him, you could feel his arms wrap around you, one hand rubbing up and down slowly on your back. 

Quinn stepped backwards, allowing the water to fall onto you. Still, you buried your face into his chest, your arms looping around his wet torso. “When are you leaving?”

His skin absorbed the volume of your words, but he could still make it out. “Once I’m done in here. I wanna get to the rink early.” 

He could feel the vibrations of your hum before you lifted your chin up to meet his eyes. He let out a laugh as the water dripped down your face, your eyelashes doing an okay job at keeping it out. His hands came up to cup your face, thumbs gliding over your eyes to clear them up a bit. 

Those same hands pulled your face closer to his, his lips softly pressing against yours. There was no ulterior motive, no lust behind the kiss. It was warm, sweet, and full of love. You sighed into the kiss, melting into him as you silently prayed to stay in this moment with him.

Quinn pulled away first, earning a whine from you even though he had only pulled away enough to speak, his lips still resting against yours but without the pressure. “I love you, sweet girl.”

Those words alone had your heart pounding, no matter how many times he would say it. His smi;e grew as he could feel it through your chest, pulling back to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too, Q.”

[eilinelsghost]

Comparative Sizes of Beleriand and the Lands to the East

I put this together as a resource for my own writing awhile back and at first just stared at it in utter bewilderment. Is Beleriand really this small?! It seems like the answer is yes, and I'll give a quick explanation as to why below.

I've seen various stitched together maps of the First and Second/Third Ages, but the primary ones I've encountered still end up with the distance measurements not quite reflecting what we have in the text or map legends.

Without going into too many of the tedious bits, the basic overview is that I put this together by superimposing the maps in Photoshop, aligning Himring and Tol Himling, then drawing this out till the two iterations of the Ered Luin crossed. The primary thing here was ensuring the distance between Himring/Himling and the Ered Luin remained the same in both places.

There were various other details as well, but the key factor for determining whether this was feasible was to check whether it held up when comparing the numerical distances we are given as well.

This is simplest on the map of Middle-earth in the Third Age, since the official map was kind enough to provide a mileage legend. However, the Beleriand map was not nearly so forthcoming. So off we go to everyone's favorite chapter of the Silmarillion (Of Beleriand and its Realms) where we find that East Beleriand is described as being

at its widest a hundred leagues from Sirion to Gelion and the borders of Ossiriand

If this is 100 leagues, then we can convert that to roughly 345 miles and move that rasterized line down within the same file and line it up with our mileage legend from the map of Third Age Middle-earth (scaled as shown in the first image). Which gives us this:

Almost spot on!

Which, I'm not going to lie, really shocked me. I expected to find that this was wildly off since I've always assumed these maps to be fairly equal in my head. But no, it seems that all the epics of the First Age really did happen in an area no larger than Eriador.

One last image that I find interesting is isolating just Beleriand from this stitched map while retaining the water's tint so you can see the approximate whereabouts of the new shorelines would have ended up.

[miajooz]

After Hours ✧˖°.

overview ₊⊹ Your wife, Ellie, is quite the workaholic. She’s a business woman, leaving her in the office with extra work nearly every night. You both had a date planned—but she wasn’t even leaving her office. So, you took matters into your own hands.

warnings ₊⊹ Ellie is kind of an asshole, dom!Ellie, sexting (nudes), fingering, bondage, being gagged, hair pulling, darcyphilia, ass slapping, strap usage, swearing, degrading + praise, bratty!reader if you squint! (you don’t really have to squint)

wc ₊⊹ 5k

Two hours Ellie was in that office. Not even just in her office—but two hours past the time she was supposed to be for the date you had planned. The date she promised to take you on.

To say you were upset was an understatement! Seriously, when your wife is working so hard she’s stretched thinner than a Victoria’s Secret thong, and she’s missing valuable time she planned to spend with you—being upset was the most fair thing you could be. You understood she had to work, but sometimes you wish you could always be the top priority.

That’s how you ended up naked on your bed, phone in hand, and cursed with the type of exhaustion you could only achieve after an unfairly long shower. If you were going to do this, you had to be ready and do it right.

You opened your messages with Ellie—a very mixed place. At first glance you’d see normal looking messages, hearts, sappy responses, short responses, all that. But if you scrolled up even a bit—nudes. This was a habit of yours, one that almost always worked in your favor. If you clicked on sent photos? Flashed, nude central. Like a collection!

And you were about to add to that collection. Lucky girl!

You opened the camera linked to your messages, looking at your face in the camera. You angled the phone slightly downwards, other hand going to grab at your tit. God, you wished those were her hands on your skin—but those hands you missed so dearly were probably wrapped around a pen or typing away on her computer.

Lucky pen, lucky computer. You were finding jealousy in the simplest of things.

The picture wasn’t calculated like usual, no, this was spiteful. There was a slight blur to it, along with only the side of your face and jaw in view—the whole ordeal. It looked rushed. And worst of all? You didn’t even send a little caption with it. Usually attached to the photo you’d send a “miss you.” or “can you come to the bedroom?”

But not this time, Ellie didn’t get that. She got a messy photo of you cupping your tit and probably looking at the ceiling. You waited for her response, to which she replied fairly quickly too.

Fuck.

You didn’t know if you should have been turned on or scared for the future of the night. The future of your back, maybe pussy, who knew what this woman would ruin. You found yourself both scared and turned on.

Your theory was that she would just send something filthy in response and you’d await the sound of her walking up the stairs—but she must have been having a rough day.

Great, you were there for her to take her anger out on.

Nonetheless, you actually complied. You slipped your clothes on as if they wouldn’t be torn off anyways like wrapping paper on christmas morning and left the bedroom. You made sure to leave one strap of your tanktop hanging, no bra, no panties, none of that.

Nothing that could get in the way.

You walked through the relatively large mansion, cold tile hitting your feet and giving you goosebumps. But they were nothing compared to the feeling in your stomach. Nerves, excitement, anticipation—it was all fluttering around like butterflies in an enclosure.

You reached your wife’s office, carefully pushing the door open. You weren’t sure what you were expecting—but it wasn’t much. Ellie was just sitting there, pen in one hand and cigarette in the other. She looked up at you upon hearing the door open, face neutral.

Ellie simply hummed, not saying a single word to you. She then put her pen down, and motioned you over with two fingers. One simple movement and you could already feel heat pooling in your lower abdomen.

You didn’t say a word, mainly wanting her to speak first. So, you listened—walking up to her and standing in front of her chair unfairly close. She looked up at you, eyes like a siren. There was something about her eyes that captivated you, you just stared down at her, unblinking.

Though, Ellie’s eyes were able to look away. They traveled down your body excruciatingly slowly, landing on your chest. Some sort of scoff fell from her lips, the side of her left mouth upturned ever so slightly. “No bra, huh? How clever.” she said dryly, taking a drag of her cigarette, letting herself feel the smoke deep in her lungs before exhaling somewhere off to the side.

You simply rolled your eyes, now it was your turn to scoff. Your eyes eventually locked again when she managed to peel them away from your boobs. “Oh, I know. I’m so clever.” you said sarcastically, making no attempts to make a move whatsoever.

Ellie’s hummed in response, but she was obviously amused. “Yeah? That why you sent me a nude in the middle of my meeting with a client?” she asked plainly, eyes narrowing at you as she brought her cigarette up to her lips again. She had one eyebrow slightly raised, the one with the slit. The way she kept her eyes on you wasn’t helpful either. Fuck.

You raised an eyebrow, hands moving to your hips —a gesture that carried an almost dangerous amount of attitude for the situation you had gotten yourself into. “You don’t get to be mad here, that’s my job.” you argued, voice all accusing now. “We had a date planned almost 3 hours ago, and you forgot about me again!”

Ellie’s expression didn’t change, not even a fraction. Somehow, that pissed you off more. “You’re right, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll take you somewhere nicer tomorrow, s’my day off.” she said, voice monotone and tired sounding.

You nodded, eyes trailing to the floor. You still couldn’t help but feel angry.

“And? Where’s my apology?” she asked, now she was really smirking at you. That pissed you off more too, if that was even possible at that point.

“Apologize, for what? For sending a nude?” you questioned in disbelief, the whole situation was ridiculous. “I always send them.”

Ellie didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you and smoked. But her expression was more serious now, the fluctuating of expressions was confusing you. Perhaps it was on perpose.

She then put her cigarette out in her ridiculously expensive ashtray, expression stern and almost..angry? Ellie shooed your hands off your hips, replacing them with hers. She pulled you closer in front of her, you practically stumbled when she did so. You could feel her thick, expensive rings digging into the plush of your skin.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Apologize for sending me a fucking nude while I was meeting with a client.” she said, fingers digging into your flesh in a way that almost made you flinch. Though, you didn’t budge. “What if he saw that photo, huh?” she questioned, now she really sounded irritated.

You were sort of frozen, but knew it was a bad idea to stay silent. “Oh, please. You’ll keep your job, it’s just a nude!” you argued, placing your hands on top of hers. Maybe to calm her down, or maybe to calm yourself down.

It didn’t work for Ellie, she was still pissed.

“Fuck my job, babe. I don’t give a shit about that. I don’t want a random, cock-breathed guy seeing your boobs.” Ellie snapped, her grip on your hips bruising and secure.

You were honestly stunned, unsure what to say in response. You almost laughed at the bluntness. That was a fair point, but you were still holding that grudge. Though you didn’t need to say anything, Ellie did.

“Sit.” she demanded coldly, letting go of your hips and patting her lap. She could’ve easily pulled you into her lap, but she wanted you to do it herself.

And of course you did.

You felt something like relief, all you wanted was attention from your wife. You always loved sitting in her lap, too. Without further hesitation, you plopped down on her lap. You leaned back, back pressed against her chest. You could’ve sworn you felt something in her pants—but you brushed it off.

“Good girl.” she praised, patting your thigh and leaving her hand there. Her suit jacket was hanging on the back of the chair, the sleeves on her dress shirt rolled up to the elbows. You looked down at her tatted arm, a trait you found incredibly sexy. The rings adorning her fingers were also very appealing! Though, she only wore her wedding ring on this hand.

Without a word, Ellie just started working. She picked up her pen and started writing on a document you didn’t care for. You frowned, this must’ve been your punishment for sending a nude in the middle of her little meeting.

But no, this was nothing compared to what you’d receive.

“So, where’s my apology, sweetheart.” she said, more as a statement rather than a question. The grip she had on your thigh also seemed to grow stronger. But that was the least of your worries, at least when she grabbed your inner thigh instead, thumb wandering somewhere it shouldn’t have.

You looked down at your wife’s hand, still not seeing a reason to apologize. Nothing happened, after all. Your heartbeat was quickening, her thumb brushing against your clit and making you shiver. Something about this situation made you wanna keep pushing.

So. you did.

“I’m not apologizing.” you said firmly, but it was slightly broken when she pressed her thumb against your clit a bit harder.

Ellie hummed in response, her writing pausing for a moment. “Such a brat.” she was moving more than just her thumb now, her hand sliding past the fabric of your shorts. You had no panties on—so her fingers just slid through your wetness teasingly.

“You know, I buy you such expensive, pretty panties. Just for you to not wear them?” her fingers kept sliding up and down your slit, making you squirm. “It’s fine, I know you just wanted me to touch you. Easy access, huh? My smart girl.”

Two fingers started circling your clit, it would almost be enjoyable if it wasn’t so slow. You desired more friction than this, your poor pussy was so neglected you were just pulsing. It was so obvious too, because you heard your wife scoff again.

Ellie slid her fingers down, collecting all of your juices before prodding at your entrance. You gasped a bit, trying to grind your hips closer but to no avail. She let her fingers rest there for a moment, barely pushing just to keep pressure there.

“Ellie, please..” you begged, though it was more of a whine than anything. She seemed to completely ignore your whine, adjusting her grip on the pen in her other hand and starting to write. She just held her fingers there—not pushing them in or moving anymore.

You wanted to cry, you were so desperate it was pathetic. And you knew she could feel the way your hole clenched around nothing, why wasn’t she even a little tempted? You needed it so bad—needed something.

“Baby, please. I’m sor—ugh!“ you tried to say, but were cut off when she shoved her fingers inside of you harshly. You choked out a gasp, your needy pussy clamping around her digits in a way that made it impossible to move even if she wanted to.

“You don’t get to be sorry now just because you wanna be fucked.” she said firmly, “You’re gonna be a good girl and stay quiet while I work, yeah?”

Ellie didn’t even look at you, her eyes just locked on the paper, she slowly fucked her fingers into you—feeling the way your cunt tried to suck her back in whenever she pulled out. “Greedy fuckin’ thing.” she mumbled, simply working again.

You were speechless—which was what she wanted. Your lips were slightly parted, not quite moaning but your breathing was definitely heavy she fingered you at a torturously slow pace, was this your punishment, then? You didn’t know how to make it better—she wouldn’t even let you beg.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. She was just writing on her document, fingers playing with your pussy like it was second nature. You let out some sort of sob and bucked your hips. “Ellie, please! I said sorry—almost!”

Ellie tried to act like she was ignoring you, but you saw the way she bit her cheek. She was frustrated. “I said be quiet. Do you want me to stop?” she asked condescendingly, ears perking at the way you whined in protest.

“No, please! Don’t stop, I’ll be quiet!” you promised, eyes welling up with tears.

So badly your wife wanted to look at your crying face, it was hard to ignore and she eventually gave in. She looked at you and hummed, speeding up her fingers in a way that made more tears fall. She wiped them with her thumb, pen still in her hand.

“Such a baby. But you do look pretty when you cry.” she murmured, kissing your cheek before returning to her work.

Now she was really fucking you.

Her fingers were thrusting into you at a rapid pace, causing your thighs to shake and your throat to feel tight as you tried to hold back moans. Ellie continued writing, the side of her mouth curled into a small smile.

You were a mess, jaw slack as you tried to hold back moans but miserably failed. With a turn of your head, you buried your face into her neck to muffle any sounds that forced their way out of you. You let go, soft moans falling from your lips like a melody, and she drank up every note.

Accompanying your pathetic sounds was the wet sound of her fingers fucking into you. You could feel her fingers dragging against the walls, curling to hit that spot inside you that made you shake and need to grab onto something. Her breathing was steady, her face focused, her posture professional—it all made your head spin. She just kept writing on her document, working as if she wasn’t already working your pussy.

“Ellie..fuck..” was all you could really manage, your voice whiny and breathless. It was muffled in her neck, but you could hear the way her writing stuttered for a moment. Maybe she’d pay attention to you if you kept talking.

“F-feels so good, oh god..” you moaned, gasping at the sudden change in pace in which she was fingering you at. Ellie didn’t just speed up—her fingers were practically slamming into you. Your back arched a bit, legs shaking and eyes blown wide. “Fuck, Els! Too much!” you cried out, biting down on the collar of her dress shirt.

“Too much? Don’t act all overwhelmed now. You were begging for it and now you’re whining?” she rasped, still not even looking at you. “You’re so impatient baby, maybe I should make you wait to cum?”

This was the last thing you wanted to hear—and the worst. You wanted to cum so bad, no, you needed it. Your mind was hazy, your stomach fluttering and tightening. Weak whimpers were all you could manage, and that’s what she wanted. You unlatched from her shirt, moans echoing throughout the humiliatingly quiet office.

“Beg for it.” she said—and it definitely wasn’t a request. No, if you wanted to cum you’d have to beg for it.

You tried, but all that left you were babbles and whines. Ellie smiled at this, her writing pausing—though you were oblivious. She continued her pace, sparing you a side glance you couldn’t meet. She then slowed down, really making sure you wouldn’t cum. “Baby, I said beg.”

You were distraught, trying to fuck yourself onto her fingers but failing. You started crying again, so desperate to finish it was almost painful. “P-please, let me cum! Ellie, please!” you pleaded through moans and cries. “I-I can’t take it anymore!”

Ellie scoffed, but there was a smile on her face. She sped up again, tutting and continuing her to write. “Oh, I know, baby. It’s so hard. I know you can take it, but I’ll be nice.” she murmured, earning her a string of moans and babbles of ‘thank you’ she couldn’t exactly make out—but she understood.

“Come on, cum for me.” she coaxed softly, pace and intensity staying the same. Ellie stopped writing, wanting to focus completely on making you finish. That wasn’t hard—since her words threw you over the edge immediately.

You were over, orgasm hitting you harder than you were anticipating. You threw your head back, cries of her name and curses falling from your lips like a promise. Your cunt spasmed and clamped around her fingers so hard she could barely move them anymore to help you ride it out.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl.” Ellie whispered, causing you to moan pathetically in response. She helped you ride it out—but she wasn’t stopping. You were so overstimulated, whining and squirming away from her hand.

“E-ellie, I can’t!” you complained, tears streaming down your face. Eventually, she stopped, pulling out of you with an embarrassing squelch.

Ellie pulled her fingers out, looking at the slick covering them. She set her pen down, using that hand to grab you by the hair and force you to look at her. You moaned in half surprise half enjoyment, eyes struggling to focus on her as she pulled on your scalp. Then, while you were watching, she plopped her wet fingers into her mouth. You watched as she sucked them clean, eyebrows furrowed

Her tongue swirled around the digits, sucking off all the juice she collected from you. You kept eye contact the whole time, even when she’d pull your hair a bit harder just to hear you whine. When she was done, she took her fingers out of her mouth and wiped the rest on a nearby handkerchief.

Your mind was hazy, weak pants leaving you as you tried to come back to a lucid state. Ellie hummed and patted your thigh, moving her document and whatever else was on her desk to the side.

“Just curious, what part of ‘be quiet’ is so confusing to you?” she questioned, her voice condescending but somewhat serious. You felt your stomach drop a bit, jaw open to say something.

“Ellie, you litterally—!” cut off, again.

Ellie stood up from her chair, her hand going to your back as she slammed you onto the desk. All the breath was forced out of your lungs at the harsh impact, bent over in a position you weren’t exactly ready for. She pressed up behind you—and then you felt it.

Did she seriously have a strap on under her pants? You knew you felt something when you were sitting in her lap. Either she knew this was going to happen and prepared herself the moment she was late for your date, or she quickly put it on before you came into her office. Either way—fuck.

Ellie made a point to grind against you a bit, you could feel the cloth covered silicone pressing against your cunt. She watched the way your wetness from both arousal and finishing beforehand seeped onto her pants, the sight making her smirk a bit but also huff.

A hand reached out—not yours—and grabbed a half-fistful of your hair, yanking your head up so you could look at your wife in the eyes. “Gonna need you to hold still, baby. Can you do that for me?” there was a softness to her voice now, a small change that confused you. You mindlessly nodded, letting your head rest on the desk when she let go of your hair.

You could hear shuffling behind you—though you assumed she was just taking her pants off.

Not exactly.

Ellie undid her belt, holding the expensive leather in her hand and looking down at you—well, looking your back. She hummed to herself, the corners of her mouth turned upward. Without another thought, she grabbed your arms and wrapped the belt around them, fastening and securing the buckle with a speed you hadn’t expected.

You gasped a bit, trying to lift off the desk but ultimately being pushed back down by her hand. You couldn’t even turn to see her tattoos, how cruel!

“Ellie, what the hell are you doing?” you asked, even though it was obvious. She pressed against you again, but finally decided to slip her pants off since there was nothing keeping her from doing so. You wished you could see her behind you. She was in her dress suit and tie, sleeves rolled up in the way that always had your mind foggy. You could feel your wedding ring against your skin, too.

“Jus’ making sure you stay still. Seems to be a struggle for you.” she replied casually, taking advantage of the fact you couldn’t see the smirk on her face. She lifted your arms up a bit, using her other hand to actually pull your shorts off. They were tossed to the side somewhere carelessly, they held no meaning to her when she had such a pretty girl bent over her desk.

All for her, that’s what made it special.

Almost as soon as Ellie pulled your shorts off, she landed a painful slap on your ass. It stung badly, eliciting a yelp out of you. She rubbed the reddening flesh softly, it was a teasing and soothing gesture. Though you felt more teased when she slid the tip through your slick folds, gathering up some natural lube she knew she wouldn’t exactly need. You were wet enough—for sure.

“Comfortable, sweetheart?” she asked, as if she didn’t have you bent over her desk with your arms bounded by her belt.

There was no use in replying, you tried—but failed. Mainly because she started pushing the silicone inside you before you could even get a word out, making you let out a string of all sorts of noises. Noises that she drank up favorably, egging her on. You swallowed it in greedily, fitting for how you were feeling.

“Fuck..Ellie. A warning would’ve been nice.” you complained, feeling yourself tighten and spasm around her strap. It was a tight fit, perhaps this was a new one? Regardless, she just kept pushing the silicone inside you impatiently. Your nails dug at the leather, despite the preparation—you weren’t exactly ready.

She heard your complaint and smiled, “Maybe, but you’re opening up so well for me.”

Ellie was watching the way you sucked her in, the way the silicone disappeared inside you with every inch—every centimeter. “Pretty fuckin’ thing. And it’s mine.” she murmured, leaning down to talk in your ear when she finally bottomed out. The sounds of your panting made her crazy, along with the slight tremble of your legs. “Poor thing’s been neglected, huh? So sorry, baby. Forgot you were such a whore.”

There wasn’t an apologetic tone in her voice, all heat and hunger. But you knew deep down she felt bad.

Ellie’s thrusts started slow, too distracted by the way you sucked her in to actually be rough with you. “Oh, I know baby. Breathe, you’re alright.” she moaned, as if she could feel your tight pussy gripping onto her. But watching was enough, especially when she got to hear such pretty groans from you.

You were trying to hold onto something, anything—but that wasn’t possible with your arms bound behind your back. It wasn’t enough, she was just slowly dragging the silicone out and then slamming it back in. “Els, please.” you begged weakly, hoping it would actually get you somewhere.

Luckily it did—but you somehow still weren’t ready. Not ready for the pace she set so suddenly. Ellie pulled out halfway before slamming back into you, you swore you could feel tip of the strap kissing your cervix. A sharp cry left your throat, but she only continued.

Ellie was fucking you at an animalistic pace, her hips moving uncontrollably. She couldn’t help herself—not when you looked like that. Not when you were bent over taking her so well, when your arms were bounded by her belt. Not when she was the one making you feel as if you were in heaven.

“O-oh god! Oh, fuck!” you cried, the end of your sentence melting into a weak whine. Every harsh thrust had your eyes squeezing shut or rolling back. When she angled her hips differently, you just wanted to scream. She was being so rough with you, but god, you were an absolute whore for it. The way you could feel her stretching you out, how she seemed to hit the perfect spot every time—you couldn’t get enough.

“Taking it so well, baby. Such a good girl. ‘Pussy s’fucking swallowing me.” she praised, confusing you with her switch of tone. Ellie took her hand off your back, reaching for your hair again. She actually grabbed a full fistful this time, yanking your head back and making you arch. The angle allowed her to slide deeper inside you, making you cry and squirm.

That wasn’t all, she used her other hand to tug at her tie, taking it off and using your ass to help her bunch it up. She pulled your head back further, stuffing the tie in your mouth. “Just in case you try and get mouthy again. But I still wanna hear you moan.”

You couldn’t even think, every braincell or angry thought in your mind was being fucked out of you. All you could think about was the fucking beating your pussy was taking—and of course the tie she had shoved into your mouth. You took it with pleasure—though, pleasure went a strong enough word for how you were feeling.

“I-I can’t! I can’t!” you tried to say with your mouth slightly stuffed, though it just sounded messy. Of course she understood though, it’s not like she wasn’t used to hearing you unable to speak. You were tearing up again from how overwhelmed you were. She was in so deep, fucking places inside you that you didn’t know could be reached. The burning sensation on your scalp as she firmly held your hair was also heavenly.

Ellie hummed, though it was more of a groan or huff. “Yes you can, you’re a tough girl. Can’t take a good dick when you need it?” she asked condescendingly, panting between words since the pace she was fucking you in was pretty tiring. But she didn’t stop or slow down once. She kept fucking you roughly, pounding into you and fueling herself off your reactions. “Do you want me to go easier on you, baby?”

You shook your head feverishly, weak and strained babbles leaving you. A coherent sentence wasn’t possible for you in that moment. The only thing you could do was take it. You were drooling a bit, the tie stuffed in your mouth only making it worse.

“That’s it, take it. ‘You gonna forgive me for being an asshole, baby? I’ll always make it up to you.” she rasped, earning her a little whine in response. She scoffed and smirked, panting and huffing like a dog.

You couldn’t hold out for long, not with the pace Ellie was using on you. The desk was shaking as she fucked you. Pens, files, papers—all of it fell off her desk. But she payed it no mind, her eyes still focused on you even when her coffee mug went down and shattered. She could hear a change in your breathing, she didn’t even have to ask if you were close.

You spoke up anyways, fortunately. Only because you somehow spit out the tie.

“I’m so—fuck! S-so close, Els!” you whined, cunt spasming before you even came. You were a mess, panting, moaning, arms fighting against the restraint of her belt—all of it. The tightening in your stomach felt stronger than usual, as if all your emotions were swirling into a ball and settling in your abdomen.

Ellie huffed, pace unchanging. “Yeah? Gonna cum for me? Come on, baby. Give it to me again.” she rasped, still fucking you and still holding onto your hair like a handle.

You didn’t need much else, and you definitely didn’t know how much you needed that orgasm. It hit you hard. Harder than you had expected and harder than the last. It was messy, almost your whole body spasming as you cried out and whined—pussy clenching around the silicone so tight Ellie couldn’t even move anymore. You let out a long string of filthy words and pleads, all in which your wife laughed at.

You laid there limp, the strap almost stuck inside of you—cunt still greedy even after being spoiled and fucked out. Ellie carefully pulled out, moaning at the squelching sound that came with it. “Fuckkk.. that’s it. Look at you, such a good girl.” she coaxed

She hummed and set the strap aside, but not before staring at it like an ancient relic. Ellie pulled you up to stand, laughing at the way your legs wobbled. She moved to unbuckle her belt from around your wrists, admiring the way they looked when they were restrained in front of your bare ass. The belt was tossed to the side, allowing her to pick you up.

Bridal style.

You made eye contact, your eyes hazy and hers almost soft. God, what a beautiful woman you had married.

Ellie held you in her arms securely, kissing your forehead softly and murmuring sweet things to you. “I know baby, but you did so good for me.” she said, looking at you as if she didn’t just fuck your brains out. “You’re so pretty, I’m so sorry for being an ass. I love you.”

You mumbled something incoherent, head resting against her softly. Just when you thought she was done speaking, she spoke again. “So..do you want to shower again now or scissor in our bedroom?”

“Ellie!”

“I take that as a no. Sorry, baby.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and looking at the ceiling like it would save you. “Okay, just..strip all the way.”

Ellie smiled at that, “Of course baby, wouldn’t want you to feel embarrassed.”

tags!! <333 @valeisaslut @eriiwaii @hyperbabes @usuck @haithone @yunaversalluv @smaugayra @andiemiaswife @mayfldss

A/N: shoutout to my sexy wife for the first photo. you know who you are 😉