#then take your conservative W and go.

[canichangemyblogname]

Here’s a fun one:

“No one actually opposes nationalism and colonialism, the anti-Zionists on campuses and online are actually all Soviet plants conducting a sophisticated psyop.”

Never mind the fact this is a conspiracy theory to avoid reordering your worldview to consider the fact that large swaths of the public don’t support the bombing of Gaza. And never mind that this is a thought-stopping attempt to avoid confronting the fact that an ideology you support is reproduced through genocide and ethnic cleansing. Also never mind the fact the USSR hasn’t existed in decades.

[sandinmybed]

can i be fr for a minute?? sending abuse to people online for holding different views than you is not activism and in fact actively hurts your cause. most people are not extreme in their viewpoints, you can give them a new perspective if you're willing to spend some time explaining shit. if someone is saying something you disagree with and you rush in there to condescend to them and call them disgusting and subhuman and dont even TRY to explain calmly why their views are harmful, they're going to shut you out instantly and double down on their views.

most people are simply genuinely ignorant to the issues they're talking about - they just pick their views up from the news and the world around them and express opinions because that's what every person does. if you run in there and tell them they're scum for it, what then? if someone does that to you, are you going to think "maybe i should do some research" or are you going to think "this person is an asshole, im blocking them." a lot of you think you're activists and then refuse to do any kind of actual WORK to support your cause.

[murdrdocs]

dacryphilia; implied squirting; paul calls r "desert mouse" bc i said so; MDNI 18+ w/ PAUL ATREIDES

you're wasting too much water.

deep beneath the focus on pleasure, somewhere woven between your strong desire to reach the end, is the nagging realization that you are wasting too much water.

yet, it is not your fault at all.

paul did not listen to you when you told him to take it slow.

the wind had picked up today, a sure sign of a storm approaching, and in result arrakis had been just a little cooler. not extremely significant, but noticeable.

it had been cool enough to take more exertion to break a sweat. cool enough that stilgar was not nagging about water conservation. and paul, in the mood to take advantage of the circumstances, turned to face you once your leader was distracted. he wore a boyish smile that was subtle enough to go unnoticed by anyone who did not know him as well as you did.

but you knew paul almost as well as you knew yourself. and unfortunately, you feel as if he knows you better.

he knows your body better.

you would not call him an expert, at least not to his face, but paul is extremely adequate and well versed in the topic of your pleasure points. he knew the pace he needed to set, where he should angle his hips, what words would spur you on and calm you down. he is dedicated, a hard worker who could not half do something even if his life depended on it.

like usual, his efforts yielded great results. a little too great, as your secretion is entirely paul's fault.

tears glide down your warm cheeks, spreading out towards your ears if they are too quick for either of you to catch. paul, certainly feeling bad about the state he has put you in, is attempting to do his part. he has one hand dutifully on your cheek, the still-soft pad of his thumb catching your tears and gently guiding them back into your mouth.

"don't waste them, desert mouse," he tells you, a stupidly charming smirk on his lips the entire time as if he is proud of himself.

you know he is, because it had not taken much to get you to this point at all. he kissed you, removed your stillsuit with his to follow, slid into you with humiliating ease, and then he began to fuck you.

there were times where you and paul made love within the secluded area of your shared tent, but that was not what he did to you. he took you like your body was his and only his to own.

your legs wound around his lithe hips, your eyes welling up with tears of pleasure as you watched his toned figure work through blurry vision. he kept you compliant with encouragement. delicately spoken words of praise. as soon as you opened your mouth to tell paul to slow down, worried about the low possibility of dehydrating your body, paul would speak before you could.

"doing so well for me. staying so quiet. just a little more. you're close, yeah?"

and you were. you've been so, so close this entire time, but held back on your own direction. for fear of letting go was threateningly paired with fear of excretion you could not afford.

your thigh pack lay off to the side, completely useless, and there is nothing more you wanted than to strap it onto you and finally get to let go with assurance that whatever it was that wanted to come out of you would be conserved.

but that assurance did not exist. and paul, like the thoughtless man he tended to become whenever he had you underneath him like this, clearly could not care less.

"come on," he tells you, his voice a low and deep rasp as he starts to rut into you with more determination. his eyebrows furrow, they dip a bit into a look similar to the one he wears when he fights. his hair, tousled from both the wind and the exertion, bounces in lazy curls with every single movement. they provide a tether, one that keeps you distracted enough to avoid cumming.

until paul takes his hand and grips your chin, pulling your gaze to him.

"look at me," it's a command and you find yourself easily following it. "i know you wanna let go. can feel you squeezing around me. need you to do it."

you start to shake your head, pleading with paul for him to understand just why you could not afford to let go like this.

but he shakes his head, too, tutting gently, softening his voice to one you cannot ever turn away from.

"it's okay," he promises. "just let it go. it'll be okay. i got you."

"it's a waste," comes your feeble response.

"don't worry about it. i want it. we'll make up for it." he leans down, pressing his lips to your warm forehead once before lowering his face enough to nudge the tip of your nose with his.

then, he tells you, "i'll even clean you up."

and it's really not your fault that you let go instantly.

[paper-mario-wiki]

hey, can I ask you for some advice? sorry if this is uncalled for or you just can't answer this, I understand if so

how did you work up the courage to actually get to HRT so fast? I've found out I was a trans woman around when I was 15 and im about to have my 23rd birthday, and due to my financial/working/academic/housing (I live w my fairly conservative parents) situation it does not look like it's in the cards for me any time soon. but also I feel like I should just try to find a way and try to start out ASAP, for the sake of my own happiness. but also im afraid of whatll happen if things go Topsy turvy and I need housing from a family that thinks I'm a freak. how did you do it? again, apologies if this ask feels unwarranted or to big to ask to "Funny lady play tf2 dot blog", but I'm fine if this doesn't see an answer

First of all, I don't have insurance, so keep in mind that I did it out of pocket (note: I am broke).

I used Zocdoc (America only, sorry) to find a hormone therapy consultation, went to that appointment, and they referred me to an endocrinologist. After I got some blood tests done, I got prescribed a 30 day supply of sublingual Estradiol for about $16, again, without insurance. Now, this is of course in Biden's Seattle so it might not be as easy where you are. But at least for me, the process from booking the first appointment, all the way to taking the first pill was about half a month, because I got lucky finding a doctor. During covid, according to my endocrinologist, there was a HUGE explosion of people wanting to medically transition, so a very common thing I've heard is that a lot of doctors are booked out for months. I was lucky enough to get this appointment on Sep 1st, because the next person available in my area wouldnt have gotten me in until November.

Critically, here's my main piece of advice: You can't start until you take the first real action towards accomplishing it outside of your head. You can think, and plan, and crystalize how great it would be if it happened, but you have to actually make the first step and google "HRT doctors in my area", and schedule an appointment. To do it, you must first do it. This goes for many things in life. Simply starting the processes instead of keeping them in my head had me accomplishing many things I never thought I actually would, like starting HRT, going to university in Japan, and moving to Seattle.

Many people like me, including maybe you, are really good at getting in your own head and thinking of every possible way something could go wrong, or could be denied to you. And you get so tied up in the reasoning that you forget about the Doing. To the best of your ability, try to stop thinking, and just start doing. Anything. Choose to do something that you have wanted to for a while. Just one thing. Doesn't have to be buying a plane ticket to France, or confessing a huge secret, maybe start with that thought you had the other day of "ya know I bet pottery on those big goofy wheels is fun" and google 'pottery wheels near me' and see where it takes you. It's easier than you'd think to try. And who knows, at the end of this process maybe you'll have a beautiful vase. Or, even better, a vase with a personality, flaws, and a new hobby that you're excited to get better at.

[vase-of-lilies]

It's Been a Long Time

❀ WandaNat x Reader (f)

❀ Warnings: SMUT, desperate sex, separation, cannon typical violence, oral (r receiving and w receiving), shmexy toys, use of a strap-on, poly!relationship, pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart), tattooed reader (just a small one on her chest), nats and Wanda's mommy milkers, overstimulation, body worship, lots of orgasms, this is just super smutty and I hope you like it lol, sadness, tears, angst, captivity (not of reader), mommy kink (not MDLG), use of a butt plug and lube, female masturbation, voyeurism(?), threesome, lots of aftercare, kisses, fluff, and goodness!

❀ Request: SMUT! smexy, depraved smut with lots of overstimulation, body worship, oral, orgasms, and toys, just allll the slutty and smutty goodness 🤤 

❀ A/N: I really hope you like this one! I set it after Captain America: Civil War when Nat exposes everything about the accords and herself, and Wanda goes to the prison on the ocean thingy. So they both go home to their girlfriend who just misses them like crazy:( 

When you heard the news of the Avengers getting caught, your heart broke. The two women you loved were a part of the team, and their getting caught was the first thing on your list you were worried about, besides them getting killed, of course. Natasha and Wanda had fallen for you when you approached them while they were having coffee one morning. You had noticed that Wanda had dropped her wallet, so you quickly went to return it to her. 

Unbeknownst to you, that day would change the trajectory of your entire life. The two women would smother you with their eternal love for you, take care of you when you were sad, love you when you had a hard time loving yourself, and leave you alone when you wished. They understood you, knew you, and just loved you. They showed their love in different ways;

Wanda showed it through words. Telling you how beautiful you are, saying she loves you, holding your hand in public, kissing your head when you woke up every morning. Natasha, she was a little different. Being more conservative and hidden, she showed her love in smaller ways. Protective looks at someone who is looking at you, gifting you flowers she picks from the compound garden, and tickling your back during movie nights. 

Unfortunately, both women knew what they signed up for when they decided to join the Avengers. They put the people of their city before themselves. It was heroic, and you loved that about them. They were admirable and inspiring. Even when Wanda made a mistake with her powers, you still loved her. Even when Natasha turned her back on you and Wanda, you still loved her the same as well. 

As you were watching TV, an emergency broadcast sounded, and you watched in horror as the Avengers were seen being escorted onto a large plane, going only god knows where. Clutching the shirt-sewn pillow, you hold it close to your heart, silent tears falling down your cheeks. Wanda looked heartbroken at what was unraveling, and Natasha looked defeated as she was escorted into a police car. 

You glared red-fiery bullets at Tony Stark, who stands with Vision, Spider-Man, and other people you thought were your friends. They were watching their team get captured, rendering the city in danger as the most powerful of people were locked away. Reaching for your phone, the first person you call is Wanda. No answer. Next, you call Natasha. No answer. In a fit of desperation, you call Tony. 

"What the fuck did you do?? Why are you doing this??" You scream into the phone as you hear Tony's smug voice on the other side. He sighs and lets you scream at him. 

"Y/n, listen to me. They are a danger to-" You didn't let him finish.

"They are your fucking team, Stark. You are more dangerous than all of them combined! They have friendships that can never be undone, promises that can't be broken, lovers-" your voice cracks and you whimper. "Fuck you, Stark. Fuck you, and fuck your so-called morals." Before he got a chance to respond, you hung up the phone. 

The channel changes on its own, and you see Natasha's picture on the screen. A headline below her says, "Natalia Alianovna Romanova, the assailant behind the escape of Captain America." You shook your head, knowing they wouldn't arrest her if it was on her watch. She would be on the run, and with everyone knowing who she is, she won't be coming home to you. 

Wanda, you didn't know where she went or what happened to her. You prayed and begged someone, anyone, to bring them back to you. But nothing, no matter how hard you tried, they were nowhere to be found. 

It would be weeks before you showered again. You were staying up late every single night worrying, researching, and calling people, trying to find where your lovers were. You tried looking for the sightings of Natasha, but no luck. You tried finding out where Wanda was by tracking the plane number you saw on the TV. But no luck either; it was military-protected. But one day, an unknown number called you. Immediately you picked up, not caring who it was. 

"Y/n? This is Rogers. I can't talk long, but Wanda and Natasha are coming home. I have them located, and they are both safe. Give them time, but soon." 

You sighed in relief and responded, "Where are they? Please, I need to know; I need to know where they are!" 

Steve was quiet for a second, "I'm sorry, I can't disclose that information right now. Give them a week, and they'll be home, ok?" He waited for a response, but you hung up and threw your phone to the other side of the room. 

You were angry and worried about your girlfriends. Steve was a little help with the burner phone call, but it still made you infuriated that he didn't tell you where they were. You knew that he couldn't be tracked fully with a burner phone, but you didn't know what technology Stark would use to capture him again. 

Just like Steve said, it would be another week before you would see them. So you cleaned yourself up a little bit. You showered, tidied your room and the rest of the apartment, and decided to cook an actual meal—a simple [enter your favorite easy meal here] dinner for you and your lovers. 

That is, whenever they came back to you. 

~~~~~~~

You had got through the week Steve said they would be here, but they still did not show. Maybe they forgot about you? Maybe they didn't love you anymore. Those were the thoughts coming through your head 24/7. After the phone call with Steve, you felt something. You felt a spark of hope and were confident they were going to come home, yet they didn't.

But the day came when they finally did—the day started as every other one, in bed, unmotivated to do anything. You had gotten in the habit of staring at the picture of you, Natasha, and Wanda in central park. You were squished in between the two of them, their lips connecting to both of your cheeks as you smiled in the middle of them. It was your favorite picture of you three, as it brought back memories from the "good ole' days."

You had found that showering washed the pain away for a temporary time. The water flowed down your skin with ease and, in turn, felt like you were a new woman. Today was no different. You got in the shower, and like every other day, you continued to pray and beg anything for your lovers to come home. With every bubble that fell through the drain, you counted your wishes. It felt useless trying to hope for them to come home anymore. But you knew you had to keep trying. 

After you got dressed, you went to the kitchen for some breakfast. [Enter your favorite breakfast food here] sounded amazing, and once you made it, it hit the spot. You were in your thoughts for a long time before you noticed a small knock at the door. You figured it was a package you ordered, so you answered it. 

To your utter surprise, Wanda and Natasha stood right in front of you. In the flesh, alive and breathing. Wanda was in a musty blue jumpsuit, and Natasha looked like she was in hiding, her red hair growing long over her shoulders. You stared in disbelief at the two women in front of you. Not sure if they were real or not. 

"I-is it you?" You whisper, tears prickling in your eyes. Wanda smiled, lifting her hand to cradle your cheek. 

"It is, sweetheart. We're home." Wanda responded, a sad smile painted on her lips. 

You let out a sob and wrapped your arms around the two of them. You hid your face in Natashas' chest as you pulled Wanda closer to you. "Wh-why did you leave? Why didn't y-you come home?" You whimpered, your voice muffled by the soft material of Nats' maroon shirt. 

The two women looked at each other, and Natasha took the lead. 

"We were caught in the wrong place at the wrong time милая (honey), and we had to go away for a little bit." She said, giving your head a soft kiss as she ran her fingers through your wet hair. You sigh in relief as you feel Wanda give you a reassuring squeeze, and you look up at her as well. 

"Are you both ok? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?" You ask quickly, pulling away and scanning the two of them, running your eyes over their body and looking at their faces to see if they wince in pain anywhere. You feel lighter as you see them shake their heads, and you grab their hands and pull them inside. Inside their home, where they belong with you. 

"I saw it all happen, o-on the news… I wish I could have been there t-to help you somehow. I just f-feel like I sh-should hav-have done something." You cry, sitting down on the kitchen chair you pull from the table. 

"Baby, please don't feel that way. You didn't have to do a thing. We made a sacrifice so that you would be safe. So don't you dare take the blame for any of this, do you understand?" Wanda says, kneeling in front of you and taking your hands. Her thumb rubs tender circles on the backs of your hands. 

You nod in understanding and look down at your hands in sadness. "I just missed you both so much. I thought you were never coming home." 

Your small voice breaks their hearts, and Wanda cups your cheeks, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. Gratefully and happily, you return the kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck to bring her closer to you. Natasha kneels next to Wanda, and after pulling away from Wanda, you lean over to the redhead, kissing her lips with just as much passion. "My god, I missed you both so much. I was going insane without you two here."

They both smile from below you, and each takes your hand in theirs. "We've missed our baby, and I think we all need a bit of relief from our time away…." Natasha smirks at you and Wanda, and in sync, you both nod. Understanding what she is saying in an instant. 

They pulled you to the bedroom, their eyes never leaving yours. They tenderly laid you down on the bed, placing your head gently on a pillow. Both pairs of hands explore your body as if it is a newfound land that no one has laid eyes on before. Your shirt comes off, and you are left bare for them. They both pause as they look at you from above. 

Wanda speaks first, "Did you get this while we were gone, baby?" Her soft fingers trace the fine line of a tattoo in the valley of your breasts. The lines connect to make three naked women intertwined together, all holding each other tightly. A heart at the crown of each woman's head and you right in the middle. 

"It's beautiful, honey. Gorgeous." Natasha says, leaning down to kiss along the ink lining your skin. "I've missed this body, your scent, just everything about you милая (honey)." She talks, her lips kissing down your belly to the waistband of your silk shorts. 

Wanda sits at your side, smiling as she kisses your lips, holding onto your hand as she moves down your neck to your chest as well. She takes one of your perked nipples into her mouth, smiling as a moan escapes your throat. You haven't been intimate in so long, and it felt so good to feel this close to your lover again. "O-oh.." You let out a small gasp as Natasha gently pull your shorts down your legs, a hum coming from above you as Nat looks hungrily at your soaking wet pussy. 

"So wet, baby. Is this all for us?" Nat asks, softly raking her fingers over your inner thighs, coaxing your legs open even more. You nod in response, your cheeks heating up at how exposed you are. "I need a taste…." She whispers, and Wanda nods at her. 

Natasha lays on her belly, spreading your petals wide open. Slick strings from her fingers as she prods at your hole, and you moan softly. She licks a long stripe from the bottom of your cunt and circles around your clit, making you squeeze Wanda's hand tighter. 

Her mouth feels so fucking good on your pussy, and you arch your back, pushing your breast further into Wandas' mouth. She rubs your other hardened nipple in her fingers; like a bud of clay, she's rolling into a perfect ball, and pleasure courses through your body. Your wiggling body makes it hard for Natasha to focus, and Wanda takes note of this, so she moves to straddle your lap, keeping your lower body still. 

Your eyes close as both women dominate you, Wanda pleasuring your breasts as Natasha eats you out like she's never before. You grasp the sheets in your hands, your orgasm coming closer and closer until it hits you. As you cum with a shout, Natasha enters two fingers inside of your clenching cunt, smirking as you squeeze her fingers extra tight from not cumming in so long. "So delicious, милая (honey), so fucking good." She whispers from in between your legs, your juices covering her lips. 

"Have a taste, my love," Nat says, sitting up and removing her fingers from your pussy, moving them up to Wandas' lips. She closes her mouth around Nats' fingers and moans softly. 

"Mmmm, baby, you taste like strawberries and cream…" Wanda says, smiling down at your fucked out face. A thin sheet of sweat covers your forehead, and you return a smile. 

"J-just for you, Mommy…" you whisper, your breath coming in small pants. Nat chuckles lightly and crawls to your side. "And you too, m-mommy…." you add, making sure Nat feels just as much love. 

"Oh, baby, did you think we were done? No, no, no, we have so much to catch up on." Wanda smiles and kisses your lips in a sloppy, desperate kiss. While she is devouring your lips, Natasha makes her way to the closet. She reaches for the box marked "toys" and smiles at your messy handwriting. As she opens the box, she takes out your favorite [enter favorite color and desired size] strap, a powerful vibrating wand, and her favorite toy to torture you with; the ruby-like jeweled butt plug that fits your ass like a glove. 

She turns around with the supplies in her hands, and to no one's surprise, you had managed to get Wanda down to her bra and panties. Her jumpsuit was discarded on the floor by the bed. With her lips glued to yours, Wanda takes your hands and pins them above your head, wanting all of you under her control. You smile as your noses nudge against each other as she pulls away for a second. You look up at her, and your eyes flick from hers to her lips. "You always take my breath away." Nat smiles at your moment with her and sets the supplies at the end of the bed. 

"Alright, it's time for the real fun," Nat says, smiling as she removes her shirt and jeans. You sit up with Wanda sitting next to you, but you are quickly stopped in your tracks as Nat gives you a look that immediately pushes you into submission. As you lay back down, Wanda runs her fingers through your hair, and Nat climbs between your legs once again. 

You watch in anticipation as Nat buckles the harness to her hips, the false cock bobbing in front of her. She rubs her hand over your pussy lips again and gently enters your hole with her finger. Stretching you out to make sure that her cock fits perfectly inside of you. As Wanda sits above you, she continues to brush through your hair with her fingers, something she does as a gesture of love while Natasha takes charge of both of you. 

Nat smiles and seductively holds up the bejeweled butt plug, and you whimper softly, knowing how much you love it yet loathes it at the same time. Natasha would completely understand if you said no to something and would respect it. But this time, you would allow her to do anything to you. 

She gently holds your legs open and puts your ass on her lap, your legs up by her shoulders. She opens the small bottle of lube and puts a small amount on the metal plug as well as your puckering hole. You jump at the slight coolness of the liquid but relax as her warm fingers rub it in, pushing her finger into your ass with ease. You groan softly, turning your head and hiding your face in Wandas' leg. 

She smiles at your shyness and tickles your arm to soothe you as Nat works your ass open for her.  

"Come on, baby, loosen up for me; you used to take me like a champ," Nat says, pushing her fingers in a little deeper. You moan in response, feeling like you haven't been stretched out like this in ages. Well, you haven't, but it still felt like the first time all over again. "I know you can do it, honey, come on, let me in…" she whispers, gently moving her other hand to the top of your cunt, rubbing small circles on your sensitive button to help you relax. 

With a whimper coming from your lips, you relax your lower body in hopes of assisting Nat. With luck, she pushes her fingers to her knuckles and smirks. "Good girl, that's our good girl," She coos and smiles as she pushes her fingers in and out of your tight back hole. "She's so good, isn't she, Wands?"

Wanda hums in agreement, her fingers teasing your nipples once again. "So so good, the best girl." She smiles down at you, chuckling softly as your face contorts into a face of pleasure. You bite your lip and whine at the sudden empty feeling of Nats' fingers leaving you. But you are quickly full again when Nat pushes the plug into your ass, the jewel nestling right between your ass cheeks. 

Nat smiles at her work and rubs your skin softly. "It fits perfectly… red suits you милая (honey). My god, you are so beautiful." She looks over you adoringly and leans down to press a kiss to your bent knee. As she kisses closer to your cunt, Wanda slowly straddles your chest and looks down at you with a smirk. "Do you wanna taste baby?" You nod eagerly, and you link your arms around her legs to pull her closer to your mouth. 

Her pussy drips right over your mouth, and you can hardly contain your excitement. You pull her down to your and suck hard on her clit, making her moan and grip the bed frame in front of her. She arches her back, grinding down on your mouth with pleasure filling her veins. Lust fills her system, and she reaches back to pull on your nipples again, smiling at the vibration of your moans against her clit. 

Natasha leans back as she watches you devour Wanda and smiles as she plays with herself in return. She rubs her clit with her fingers, but it just isn't enough, so she reaches for the vibrator that sits next to her. She turns it on and sighs in relief as she presses the bulb to her aching clit. Throwing her head back in pleasure, she watches the two of you through hooded eyelids, smirking as she matches the movements of Wandas' hips, circling the vibrator one way and then the other. 

Once you sense Wandas' orgasm starts to form, you smile as her moans fill your ears like music, and you gently push your fingers in to help her with that final push of pleasure. She gasps, as does Natasha at the end of the bed, both women coming to their high at the same time. The two of them moan loudly as they both cum, and Wandas' hips come to a stop as she takes in a deep breath. "Oh, baby, you were hungry, weren't ya?" She chuckles and scoots down, leaning over your chest to kiss your lips, tasting herself on her tongue at the same time. 

"Mmm, you taste so good, Wands." You whisper against her lips, and you smile as you take in her soft kisses in return. As Natasha finishes, she hands the vibe to Wanda, who turns around on your belly, so now she is facing Natasha, who has spread your legs wide so they both have unlimited access to your most intimate parts.

Wanda spreads your pussy lips apart and licks small circles on your clit while Natasha pushes the tip of her cock into your hole. Already being stretched out, Nat knows you can take all of her. She places her hands on your thighs and pushes further inside your wet hole, slowly filling you up to the brim. You moan loudly, and you squeeze Wandas' hips as she straddles you. 

You hear the click of the vibrator switch, and you jump as you feel the vibrating against your puffy clit. A loud moan escapes your lips, your legs shaking in response as Wanda circles the vibe in all the right ways. Natasha moves her hips in a smooth rhythm, pulling endless pleasure from your cunt with each thrust. With Wandas' skilled hands with the vibrator and Natashas' cock stretching you out perfectly, you are in a state of euphoria for the first time in a long, long time. 

Your first orgasm hits you like a semi-truck, and you see white. Your pussy walls clench around Natasha's cock like a vice, and your clit pulses against the vibrating head held in Wandas' soft hands. And they are far from done, you know that; Wanda knows that, as does Natasha. They continue to push you to your limits, torturing your cunt in the most loving way possible. 

Your second orgasm hits just minutes later, and your juices squirt from your pussy and onto the sheets just under you. You let out a loud moan and squirm underneath Wanda. "One more, baby, one more just for us." She encourages and turns the vibrator up to its highest setting. You whimper in response, your red puffy cunt getting its last bit of pleasure. Natasha thrusts in and out of your pussy faster, and you are pushed to your third and final orgasm. 

As you are cumming beneath your two lovers, they share their love with a long and loving kiss. Their tongues fight for dominance in the other's mouth. Finally, with gentle care, they move their focus to you. Wanda removes the vibe from your quivering clit, and Natasha slowly removes her cock from your soaking wet hole and gently pulls the plug from your ass. She teases you by pulling it out just a little bit, then pushing it back into its spot again. But finally, she pulls it out and leaves your ass a gaping hole. 

Once Wanda moves from your belly, she begins cleaning everything up, the toys, the pillows, blankets, and other things while Nat helps you. 

Nat smiles and sighs as she massages the skin of your ass and guides you to calm down. She puts her hand gently on your heaving chest, and you follow her breaths as she silently tells you to copy her. You breathe with her, your senses calming down at the moment until you are fully at peace. 

As you lay fucked out, Wanda lifts you into her strong arms, carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. While Wanda sits you on a towel on the counter, you lay on her chest as Nat fills the tub up with warm, soapy water. Wanda chuckles at your tired look, your slouching body, and your droopy eyes. "We missed you so much, baby. I couldn't stand another day in that stupid prison without you." She says in a soft voice as she wipes your face with a warm washcloth.

You lean into her gentle touches and hum lightly in response, too tired to form complete sentences. Nat chuckles and lifts you into the tub with her, Wanda getting in on the other end and the two women caging you between their entangled legs. "It is so good to be home… to be home with our girl," She says as she holds out her hand for Wanda. 

Wanda solemnly agrees and squeezes Nats' hand, and as your head rests against her breasts, she kisses your forehead. "We won't ever leave you again, honey. Never, ever again. We promise." Wanda nods and softly rubs her hand over your leg, soothing you as you hide your face in Nats' chest. 

You knew that was a promise your two lovers would keep. It was a promise that would never be broken, despite the challenges that were faced in their everyday lives. They loved you far too much to see you heartbroken, and they swore never to leave you broken again.

Ever. 

[innuendostudios]

New video essay! On the Reverse Gish Gallop - how conservatives can ignore 90% of your argument and still appear to be winning.

If you would like more of this, subscribe to Nebula and/or back me on Patreon!

Transcript below the cut.

Say, for the sake of argument, you’re watching a political debate on TV. The conservative candidate has used their opening arguments to dump a truckload of dubious claims on their opponent. You recognize this maneuver: that’s the Gish Gallop! The debater makes point after dubious point, and, if the other debater doesn’t rebut every single one, they will appear to have lost the argument. These points don’t have to be good or hard to disprove, there just has to be a lot of them.

Oh, but what’s this? The liberal candidate seems to have come prepared! That’s new! They succinctly and efficiently dismantle each of their opponent’s arguments, offering a clear rebuttal to every single one. It’s obviously not the first time they’ve heard this particular gallop. So, the conservative’s petard has just fully hoisted them. [“What a hoisting!”] They’ve just lost their own game and have to go on the defensive… right?

Turns out, no! The conservative points to a minor error - maybe the liberal said their program would cost $40 million but is actually estimated to cost 43 - and treats them as an ignorant sap who can’t even count correctly. That is now the subject, everything else has been forgotten, and the liberal is backpedaling.

Wait, you exclaim, how does that work?! The liberal has to rebut each and every point but the conservative takes issue with one and stays in the driver’s seat? Are audiences fooled by this? Are liberals that easily snookered? The answer may shock you!

You’ve just borne witness to The Reverse Gish Gallop, where an entire argument falls apart if any of it can be disputed. These disputes, again, don’t have to be good, they just have to call the airtightness of the argument into question.

A good example is how conservatives obsess over gaffes. (Which, fuckin’... really guys?? [W, Trump]) Some Democrat will be all “conservatives want to shut down post offices as a form of vote suppression; they’re pushing voter ID laws and the post office is where many people get IDs; also we are relying more and more heavily on mail-in voting; they overwhelmingly try to shut down offices in Black and Latine neighborhoods; a lot of services like healthcare and courts still use physical mail by default and there can be serious consequences to getting it late; many elderly people still don’t use email, and, hey, maybe some of them like getting junk mail” “AH BA BA BA THAT’S IT THAT’S YOUR WHOLE LIFE NOW FOR THE REST OF YOUR CAREER YOU’RE THE ASSHOLE WHO SAID OLD PEOPLE LIKE JUNK MAIL.”

Your mistake was assuming that dishonest people abide by the same rules they impose on everyone else. When I was a teenager, some friends of the family would invite me along when they asked my parents to dinner, because I would play with their five-year-old and let the grown-ups chat in peace. And he’d make up games where we’d bat a balloon back and forth or whatever, and change the rules on the fly when it suited him. Because the rule wasn’t actually “you can only touch the balloon once per turn;” the rule was “Andrew wins.”

The purpose of a Gish Gallop is to establish a narrative not through argument or logic but force and volume. Once established, it takes a lot less effort for them to maintain than for you to establish a new one. If they shake confidence in your argument, the audience will often revert to the previous argument, whether or not that one was ever proven. It’s a not about which story is true, it’s about who sets the parameters for all stories going forward; who got there first. This is not a debate; this is a Zerg Rush. Understand: a dishonest argument is Lego - you haven’t dismantled it until every brick is separated. But an honest rebuttal? An honest rebuttal is Jenga.

[tanadrin]

Imagine one day a new social trend starts spreading. It’s something unbelievably dumb. Not harmful per de, but truly silly to believe. Let’s say, I dunno, healing crystals start going mainstream. Everybody’s talking about their crystals. It becomes impolite to criticize people who believe in healing crystals. They become a big part of people’s personalities, and people on TV start talking about them, and one day years down the line politicians are debating funding for crystal-based medicine. And through it all you are sitting there going, what the fuck is happening. I thought we were all on the same page on this. You want to get along and be friendly and open minded but you cannot pretend to believe in healing crystals, this is nonsense, and when the topic comes up you refuse to lie about it. This eventually starts to have social consequences—they’re that popular!—but what can you do? You cannot pretend a lump of quartz can cure the flu or whatever. It’s just all so unbearably embarrassing.

I think what the centrist/liberal/center-left reactionary turn driven by culture war stuff feels like. And I think the key emotion is probably cringe. Not hate, not fear, though those emotions may reinforce the turn. I think in a lot of cases people who imagine themselves pretty open minded and flexible have as part of their worldview something they thought was bedrock social consensus—on the level of “healing crystals are silly woo”—so bedrock maybe that it didn’t even need to be a conceptual boundary they actually policed in their minds.

For instance, when she started her anti-trans turn, JK Rowling made a big show of not being really anti trans, just arguing that Some People Had Gone Too Far. She wasn’t a frothing religious reactionary, after all. And I believe that’s probably true! I think Rowling probably did have a mental model of sex and gender with a little bit of give in it—of the “we can humor the odd weirdo” type. But as the discussion of trans rights in the UK got more serious over her lifetime, trans people went from “the odd weirdo” to “a recognized minority,” and eventually this ran against a bedrock belief that on some level men are men and women are women and never the twain shall meet. To act otherwise was just too embarrassing. And she wasn’t going to embarrass herself in the name of political correctness.

Other people whose brains have been eaten by the anti-woke mind virus (as @eightyonekilograms calls it) have something going of the contrarian in them, who enjoys yelling “up yours, woke moralists!” or w/e. Im thinking of ppl like Glenn Greenwald here, or Dave Chapelle, people who seem not to feel alive except when people are mad at them. That’s a separate but interesting dynamic. And there are people like Graham Linehan who become totally unhinged through this process of auto-radicalization, moths drawn ever closer to a particular source of validation within their chosen reactionary subcommunity, until they are truly parodies of themselves. That is also an important dynamic, but it’s one that only takes hold after the initial turn has begun.

I think the role of that feeling of cringe, that refusal to entertain an idea because it is too embarrassing (even if it does actually have a decent body of research behind it, unlike crystals) is important to think about, because I am interested in how to get people over it. I know that feeling has affected my own thinking over my lifetime. I wasn’t raised particularly conservative, but I had to learn not to cringe at a lot of feminist thought before I could appreciate it and learn from it. I explicitly didn’t have that cringe when it came to gay people for whatever reason, so it never entered my mind that it might be a problem. I remember being surprised to learn when I was very young that some boys wanted to marry other boys, but my response was “huh. Go figure.” Because for whatever reason I had not picked up that this was something I was supposed to be grossed out by. A general doctrine of empathy, of trying to understand people on their own terms, can help forestall some of this stuff, but it’s not foolproof in either direction—I don’t want to believe crystals have healing powers if it becomes socially popular to do so, just because it is socially popular to do so! And if they do, I don’t want to not believe they do just because it is socially unpopular!

(Obviously the crystals thing is not a one to one metaphor for the trans thing, so don’t read too much into that. Maybe astrology would have been a better analogy. Also I’m not talking just about people whose reactionary turn is predicated on trans issues—I think this dynamic applies to everything from gay rights to the Tridentine Mass. But trans issues are a handy example bc, as the adage goes, somebody posts once about trans people and they never post anything normal again. I think the classic rapid-onset trans derangement syndrome is closely tied to the fact that gender norms are a really deep element of many people’s social-consensus-based worldview, and so challenged to that worldview are felt as really cringe.)

I’m curious if other people who grew more liberal in their thinking over time had a similar experience of having to overcome what was basically a feeling of embarrassment at certain ideas.

[rollercoasterwords]

hi there! i saw a post you made ages ago about gender not necessarily being a static thing and being something that can change over a person’s lifetime.

excuse my ignorance in this but do you think that is something that applies to a person’s sexual orientation as well? i always appreciate your insight on these topics.

also, apologies if anything is worded strangely. english is not my first language.

no worries, i can understand u perfectly! and my short answer to ur question is yes

longer answer is i don’t think anyone is born w some innate metaphysical identity that they can unearth to discover their True Self; i think sex, gender, and sexuality are largely socially constructed, though obviously materially rooted. the comparison i sometimes make to explain this to students is to think about an accent—certain physical aspects influence accent (mouth shape, vocal chords, etc) but ultimately the accent a person has is almost entirely shaped by the world around them; babies aren’t born with some “true” accent they have to discover about themselves. but that doesn’t make a person’s accent any less real or “natural”!

i think where some people get defensive abt the idea that sexuality isn’t necessarily static or innate is that oftentimes conservative voices have used this specifically to say that being gay is a phase, etc. this is a very clever trick, in which heterosexuality is enshrined as “natural” and any sexuality departing from that is a phase, a choice, etc, such that many queer people have found themselves cornered into arguing that queerness is also natural and innate, just like heterosexuality. but the ‘born this way’ narrative will ultimately not lead to liberation, because it fails to question the basic premise that heterosexuality is natural and innate; in reality heterosexuality is just as constructed and contrived as any other form of sexuality, and in fact we often see the lengths that people must go to in order to hide this fact. kinda like the wizard of oz behind the curtain (the invention of heterosexuality by jonathan ned katz is a great book abt this!)

the other sticking point i think people often have with this concept is that they think saying sexuality isn’t innate means people can just pick & choose who they’re attracted to. but that’s not how social constructs work! again, going back to the example of accents, just because an accent is socially constructed/developed does not mean that people can just snap their fingers and get a new accent. this is because social constructs are grounded in material realities and have material effects; they’re not just playing make-believe. money is another good example of a social construct that has very real and tangible material effects; i can’t just take monopoly money to the store and buy something.

so…yeah. i think sexuality can be just as fluid as gender. maybe you’ll be attracted to something at one point in your life and that’ll change over time, or maybe you’ll identify with one sexuality and then later figure out a different label works better for you. when it comes to queer politics & queer communities, i really don’t see a point in trying to nitpick or analyze whether someone is REALLY x sexuality, or what the “correct” label is for someone to use, bc i find labels more useful for identifying shared struggles than for like. unearthing buried metaphysical truths about identity lol. i also have found that i personally am much happier not worrying about figuring out my “true” sexuality and just using whatever label best fits my experiences & how i’m perceived in the world

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

hi there! love your work! i recently had a prof say that all zoos (USA) are bad (so we shouldn't support them) and sanctuaries are better because using animals for entertainment is morally wrong, most zoo profits dont go to conservation, and conservation efforts are bandaid solutions to capitalism destroying animal habitats, so the real solution is to return the land to indigenous stewards to manage/rewild. i didn't disagree with the last bit, but the argument as a whole felt a little off to me for a reason i couldnt put my finger on. am i off base here? just feeling really unsure about the whole thing.

You're not wrong! There's a mix of reality and personal opinions in those statements, and it's definitely something worth critically examining. A quick fact-check of what they said for you:

All US zoos are bad

There's a massive range of quality of zoological facilities within the US (and around the world). Some are stellar and some are not, and it's really just not accurate to lump them all under the same umbrella for almost any purpose. Unless, of course, your issue isn't with animal welfare, and it's philosophical, which is what it sound like in #2...

2. Using animals for entertainment is morally wrong.

This is one of my favorite things to talk about w/r/t how we exhibit animals. Entertainment has become equated with exploitation and implicit low welfare in the last couple decades, and so you get a lot of people saying using animals for entertainment is wrong. But those same folk will say that they enjoy seeing animals in other contexts, and they think that's okay. Where's the line between enjoying something and being entertained by it? What makes something one and not the other? Also, we know that people learn better from from situations which are enjoyable/entertaining - even just a fun teacher who jokes around vs a dry lecture - so how can that only be a problem when it's used to make viewing animals more impactful? I wrote a whole piece on this a while back (linked here) if you want to dig into this more. Some zoos (and accrediting groups) are shying away from "entertainment" type branding - shows are demos now, for instance - and others are leaning into "edutainment" that's done with good welfare and communicates actual education messaging. In short, this is a personal philosophical belief, and you're right to question if you agree. (Even if you decide you do think that too! It's always good to question why someone is arguing what they believe about animal use, and how they came to believe it).

3. Sanctuaries are better than zoos.

There's two reasons I think he's misinformed here. First, almost all exotic animal sanctuaries in the US are licensed exhibitors - just like zoos! I only know of a couple that don't exhibit to the public at all. It's an important part of their revenue stream, because gate take helps support paying for animal care. Also anything you see from a sanctuary on Youtube, Facebook, or TikTok? Also exhibition! They just message about it differently, and often have a different ethos about how they exhibit (e.g. tours to reduce stress instead of letting people wander, doing conservation or rescue messaging instead of just display). Second... look, most people assume that the word "sanctuary" means a facility is intrinsically more ethical than a zoo, and therefore they must be a good place. In reality, many sanctuaries get much less public and regulatory scrutiny (at the state level) than most zoos. There are good sanctuaries out there, but there are also sanctuaries where stuff goes on that would absolutely be unacceptable at zoos, and it slides because of the assumption that sanctuaries are inherently more moral and ethical and care for their animals better.

4. Most zoo profits don't go to conservation

This is correct! Direct conservation funding is often a small part of the money a zoo makes. However, that's because money goes to things like facility maintenance, new construction, paying salaries, etc. If zoos put all the money they made back into conservation programs, practically, they wouldn't have the funding to continue to operate. The question that I'd suggest asking instead is "where are they putting money into conservation" and "are they doing conservation work or just throwing money at something to display the logo of the program." Also, it's worth keeping in mind that a lot of what zoos do to support conservation isn't necessarily financial. Many facilities contribute "in-kind", by doing things like sending staff to assist with programs or teach specific skills, or by donating things like vehicles and equipment. Research zoos do also seriously contributes to in-situ programs, and breeding programs for re-introduction like the scimitar-horned oryx and the black-footed ferret are also conservation. Could many of the big urban facilities with huge budgets do more? Yes. But looking just at dollars spent on conservation programs is disingenuous and inaccurate.

5. Conservation efforts are band-aid solutions to capitalism destroying habitats / Returning the land to indigenous peoples to manage/rewild is the real solution to conservation issues

This is a little outside my scope so I'm going to only address the part that I know. First off, like, there's no One True Answer to conservation issues. That's reductionist and inaccurate. Conservation really is a human issue, though, and it often has to involve solving human problems that lead to negative results for animals. There's definitely an issue with what some people call "parachute conservation" where Westerners swoop in and try to tell people living in range countries how to best manage their animals and natural resources without recognizing their perspectives, needs, or what drives their behavior towards those animals. That's not just a zoo issue - that's an issue with a ton of traditional Western conservation work. And there is progress towards fixing it! In the zoo world, I've been very impressed with the work out of The Living Desert, where their conservation people spend a lot of time overseas teaching people in range countries to evaluate and improve their own conservation programs, so they can assess efficacy and also have data to apply for grants, etc. They provide support when asked, rather than trying to tell people who live with these animals regularly what to do. One of my favorite programs that TLD collaborates with (they don't try to run it!) is a group called the Black Mambas that reduces poaching by supporting entire communities to reduce the desperation for food/income, educating kids about animals, and running all-female patrols staffed by community members.

Overall, it sounds like your professor's view of zoos is really informed by their personal moral perspective, and possibly reinforced by a lot of the misinformation / misleading messaging that exists about the industry and about conservation work. They do have some specifics right, but not necessarily the context to inform why things are like that. It was a good catch to question the mix of information and approach it critically.

[lenaariewrld]

C.33 — make good choices (w)

ON THE AIR — childe x reader smau

| SYNOPSIS;; Teyvat University’s popular radio personality, Y/n L/n, has only one gripe with her life. Her classmate, neighbour, and all-around nuisance in her life, Tartaglia. Their rivalry extends just past academics and, to her horror, into her work. He becomes the music director and co-host for her radio show, working alongside her most nights and forcing himself even deeper into her life. But is he really trying to just be friends, or is there an ulterior motive to his actions?

| WC: 2.3k

previous! ~ masterlist ! ~ next!

With the holidays coming to an end, you know that your stint with Diluc and his family– your family –is nearly over. You’re always grateful to be with your childhood friend during these holidays. Grateful to forget how lonely it was before you were disowned, all because he brought you into the warmth of his family and life, a welcome you never expected. They all treat you like you always belonged there, showering you with affection and bringing you into their traditions without any hiccups. Diluc’s father has even made a few jokes about how your grumpy disposition on early mornings is a ‘family trait’. You’re like blood to them, not just an addition.

It warms your heart, and it heals a lonely part that you’d started developing every time you leave this estate. It makes you forget that creeping sadness in your gut, if only temporarily.

Diluc helps you pack on your last day, after pretending to be bothered by your request (that you didn’t even ask of him, technically) first. He neatly tucked away all the gifts you’d received. Mostly, it had been practical things like new socks or gift cards, though Crepus had thrown in a few necklaces and bracelets to this year’s rotation despite your insistence on them not spending exorbitant amounts of money for you.

He follows your instructions to roll up the clothes to conserve space and places them tightly in your bags. And when, inevitably, your three bags prove to be insufficient, he shakes his head with a playful sigh and lets you take one of his extra suitcases. “You’re hopeless, you didn’t even wear half of these,” The man chastises with a soft smile. You can tell by the fondness in his eyes that he finds your tendency to overpack as amusing as you do.

“This is a better record than my first time, though.” You proudly remind him. He nods in agreement, chuckling as he grabs the last few shirts of yours to fold and put away. “And besides, I still have a second leg of this trip.” You add. When the folding was finished, you zipped up the last suitcase and clapped your hands together.

Diluc looks over the room one last time before waving his hands for you to head downstairs. He, and Adelinde as well, help you carry everything downstairs. You thank the woman and other staff profusely as they help load up your friend’s family car. “Go say goodbye to Dad before he chases us down to the airport,” Your friend reminds, closing the boot with a final thud. You laugh at his dramatic statement but turn on your heels and duck inside. Quickly, you find Crepus already coming to the foyer to send you off, pulling you into a hug.

“Thank you,” you whisper as the older man squeezes you in a tight bear hug. It feels like he knows how much you felt like you were breaking apart, and his hug pushes those pieces a little more together. Smooths out a few of the cracks and aches in your heart. A glue that helps you.

You’re so lucky. You realise that everytime he racks you back and forth slightly, patting your back. “Of course,” His voice comes from the top of your head. “We’d be remiss if we let you stay by yourself during this time,” he pulls away a little to look at you, holding you by your shoulders. There’s a look in his eyes that tells you he knows the pain you’ve felt the past month and a half. “And if you ever have another problem with a boy, you promise to tell me and I’ll make sure to deal with ‘em,” He nods firmly, his face completely serious despite the jovial tune of his voice.

You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous notion, squeezing him tighter. “Promise,” You whisper against his shoulder. A fond chuckle rumbles through him, vibrating in your ribcage. When the hug ends, he ushers you off with a deep sigh.

“I’m proud of you, Y/n.” He calls as you descend the front stairs and make your way to the car. “Make good choices!” He adds when you skip up to the passenger door.

“Okay, okay! I love you!” You wave him off with a dramatic flailing of your arm.

“Love you too, you rascal.” He shakes his head, his arms crossed over his chest. You steal one last look at the sprawling mansion, taking in the view, and duck into Diluc’s car. The man starts the engine as soon as you're seated and drives the vehicle towards the airport.

As he dutifully follows the roads, he asks you questions about the remainder of your trip. You tell him everything you know, like the fact that Keqing had scheduled the flights and itinerary, and that none of them had told you your exact destination yet in order for it to be a surprise.

“Y/nnie…” He gives you an exasperated look, briefly glancing away from the road. You shrug, brushing it off.

“I trust them! You should too, they’re your friends as well,” You lean your cheek against your hand, looking at the icy roads passing by the car. “Besides, I would’ve chosen a bad place if I was in charge of that part of the trip,” You add, not leaving much more room for him to argue. He seems a little less tense about the fact that you trusted everyone else. You knew he got along with them and they were his friends as much as yours, but sometimes it felt like he saw them through you only.

You wondered if he had other friends.

Before you could wonder about that much longer, Diluc was asking about the schedule of your flights. You tell him that your first flight has a layover where you’ll meet up with Cyno, and the two of you will meet Ganyu and Keqing at your final destination. You also tell him that the total flight time was no more than 14 hours, hence why you had so much shit packed. The man relaxes further knowing you’ll be with another friend soon.

The rest of the ride, which is relatively short, is filled with your random anecdotes. You try to fill the silence by talking about your New year’s plans and outfits you’re looking forward to wearing. Mostly because you know if you’re left with your own thoughts too long, you’ll fall back. You will spiral with curiosities and questions, constantly wondering what you did to be in the situations you ended up in this past semester. You’ll question every moment with Childe, every sweet utterance and personal detail the man shared with you. And you’ll feel stupid all over again for the way that your heart constricts in your chest at the thought of him.

You reach the airport soon after and Diluc parks in order to help you check in your bags and such. He walks with you as far as security will allow him, handing off your carry on for you to hold. He gives you one last hug, a tight and suffocating grip similar to his dad. “Keep me updated,” He asks, kissing the crown of your head fondly before sending you on your way.

With a promise to text him with every update, even mundane things, you navigate to your designated gate and wait to board. You find a seat and pull out your phone, scrolling mindlessly on whatever social app or puzzle game you occupied yourself with at the current moment.

After thirty or so minutes of waiting, you board, find a seat, and plug in your headphones to promptly sleep through your flight. You text Diluc before closing your eyes, settling in as comfortably as you can manage and letting sleep take hold…

—

You’re awoken by an attendant with a sweet smile, the gentle tapping of her nails on your shoulder jostling you from your dreams. You bow your head and apologise for not being awake, quickly gathering your things. The plane is mostly empty as you step off, put together just enough to head to your next gate and wait for the rest of your flight.

Off to the side, you lean against your suitcase and shoot a text to Cyno to let him know you’ve landed, as well as updating Diluc once again. Your white-haired friend responds a minute later telling you he’s sitting at the nearby McDonald’s, a picture of the view of where he’s sitting attached. You look around until you spot the location and find him soon after. He sticks out like a sore thumb with his bright hair and muscle tank, compared to all the beanie and jacket-clad folks sitting around. You walk up behind him, greeting him with a gentle kick to his calf as you drop down beside him.

“How was your flight?” Cyno asks, tucking his headphones down the front of his shirt. You shrug, rubbing at your eyes.

“I slept through most of it,”

“I can tell,” He laughs as he looks at you yawning and slouching against the table. The man dodges your weak attempt to swat at the back of his head, ruffling your hair. “Here, I downloaded some movies for the flight if you want to pick one,” He shows you his phone, giving you something to distract your brain with until another round of boarding commences.

The both of you chat absently while you wait, and you end up getting a quick breakfast when Diluc finally texts you back with a simple reminder to eat as that’s a very important thing to do.

When all is said and done, the hours have passed and your flights caught in time, your friend group of four reunite at the baggage claim. Cyno holds onto your arm as he facetimes Keqing, cursing in Arabic as he struggles to get through the crowd of other people trying to navigate through the busy airport. “How fucking hard is it to find a baggage claim area?” He huffs, glancing at Keqing on his screen.

“Cy, it’s the third one on the left as soon as you come out of the gates.” Keqing says, glancing away to look around for the two of you, who are terribly lost in the enormous building. You follow her example as you crane your head around, standing on your tiptoes while Cyno keeps trucking along.

You spot a familiar head of blue and pull your arm to catch your friend’s attention. “I think I see Ganyu!” You point in the direction, the both of you peeling through the crowd towards the pair. Cyno hangs up as soon as you’re both close enough to recognise that it is indeed your own friends. A squeal escapes you as you throw your arms around Ganyu in greeting, the two of you skipping around and squishing cheeks.

Keqing watches fondly as she greets Cyno with a hug as well, the four of you taking turns before focusing on getting all of your bags. As soon as you all have everything in hand and manage to secure a car big enough to comfortably fit you all, Keqing drives you to the hotel.

Now, by no means is Keqing rich, but as you’ve known her, you’ve observed that she’s very good at knowing how to work her money for whatever she’s using it for, and her family is comfortable enough to help her out on occasion. You have no doubt that she’s planned a good trip because of this, regardless of expenses, and you feel any apprehensions slowly melt away. Cyno connecting his phone to the aux– and playing songs that you all can scream your lungs out to– helped, as well.

You all reach the hotel and wait for Keqing to check in while you and Ganyu play rock paper scissors over who gets the last piece of gum. She returns with four key cards, holding out three of them. “So, I got two rooms, which means we need to ‘partner’ up who to share with,” She informs. She barely finishes her sentence before Cyno is already pulling you closer to him.

“Why don’t you and Ganyu take a room and me and Y/n take one?” He asks. You giggle and wrap your arm around his shoulders.

“Hey, why don’t you want to partner up with me?” Ganyu places her hands on her hips and pretends to be offended.

“Because you two already want to be in a room together, anyway,” You retort with a shit-eating grin. You and Cyno could almost be mistaken for twins with the matching mischievous looks on your faces. Keqing raises her brow while Ganyu splutters, her cheeks getting a brighter pink with every second. “It’s settled, then!” You kiss her cheek and take the two keycards for a room from your friend, handing one of the Cyno.

The two women recover while you and Cyno head towards the elevator. You all bring in your luggage and unpack just a bit, agreeing to get dinner that night after a quick nap to recover from any jet lag. You change into an appropriate outfit before flopping on top of the sheets with Cyno, the two of you conking out for a few hours.

You had a couple days of vacation before New Years, and you were ready to use it all to celebrate. You desperately needed an energy boost and a way to get out all your pent up knots. And what better way than consuming substances that were wildly bad for you in the name of a ‘good night’?

All you knew, and all you cared about, was getting a fresh start. Once and for all, you would throw away the misfortune of your life. You would truly and unashamedly face things as they came, and you wouldn’t run away. And this time, you meant it..

———

A/Ns: by now yk my routine: likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated, and don't forget to stay hydrated <33

TAGLIST: @popiizpops @scaradooche @yourfavoritefreakyhan @neversore @monocerosei @dontmindtheevie @kittywagun @yumidepain @kazumiku @hanilessa @nrviine @wren-art @state-of-grac3 @definitely-not-leena @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @tikitsune @hwngti @trulylee @basicsofdying @starriylover @sweetkyojuro @duhsies @kitchenscissorbangs @love-loveyy

[northsoulss]

the media thinking reader is in a relationship w some popular male footballer but she's actually with elisa and they soft (or hard) launch their relationship 🤭🤭

mon amour - elisa de almeida

(a/n : here it is! hopefully this is what you had in mind lol. this is quite a long one. writing this hit home, so i quite like how it turned out! thanks for the request xoxo)

growing up in a relatively conservative town, you never had the chance to express your identity as a queer individual. it was a constant internal battle, thinking something was wrong with you for liking someone of the same gender. things became more complicated when you began liking football, it being seen as more of a boy-ish sport.

thankfully, your hometown had a small women’s youth football club, and you begged your parents to allow you to sign on, which they begrudgingly accepted. hoping to meet other queer women, you went into football hopeful, but your ideas were quickly shut down when you realised a lot of them were straight. you continuously struggled with your sexuality as you grew up, fear taking over whenever you had the opportunity to come out. so you never did, remaining closeted for all your teenage years.

as you began to advance and become better at football, you wanted to make it a career, to do it professionally. eventually when you signed with psg a year ago, it was undoubtedly the best decision of your life. after moving to france, you finally got to experience a proper queer community with supportive people. you still made no move to come out, for you realised that there was no need to put it out there; to let everyone know that you were queer. so long as you were contented with what you identified as, nothing else really mattered. or so you thought.

over time as you became more popular and well known, you began to see that there are many upsides and downsides to being a public figure. on one hand, you have formed close bonds with other footballers of both genders and experienced nothing like you could have ever imagined. on the other hand, every time you posted something vaguely couple-ly with one of your friends, especially the guys, your fans would go nuts.

“is she dating him?”, “i knew they were together!” were the very common comments you would get when posting pictures with you and another footballer, who happened to be one of your very good guy friends, _(insert male name)_ , whom you hung out with quite often. you decided that one day you were sick of the comments, and posted something for pride, saying that you were proud to be a queer woman. lo and behold, that did not stop the comments.

lady luck must have been on your side for your team has been nothing but incredibly supportive of you coming out. at the same time, one of your teammates took this chance to snag you, and surprise, surprise. you fell head over heels for the woman and have been dating ever since.

you have decided to lay low for the first few months, trying your hardest not to post anything that would make the fans suspicious. however, one day you decided had enough of the speculations.

it was a lazy saturday, you and elisa were out at a quaint neighbourhood cafe having brunch, just enjoying the warm summer weather. it had been a few days after your 6 month anniversary, and you just couldn’t get enough of her. so, as sneakily as you could, you snapped a picture of her looking off into the distance, watching the kids at the playground goofing around with a small smile. too bad your phone wasn’t silenced, so a loud shutter sound was made and caused elisa to whip her head around.

she locks eyes with you, and you must have had the guiltiest expression on your face, because she immediately broke out in laughter. “what are you doing baby?” she laughs harder as your face reddens, her taking your hand in hers and rubbing small circles with her thumb.

“you just looked really good okay!” you defend yourself defiantly, showing her the photo that you took. she gives you a knowing look, before turning away to continue looking at the scenery around, a small smirk on her lips. there was a comfortable silence amongst you two, but your mind started to wonder. for a while now, you’ve been meaning to ask elisa about announcing your relationship. you were sick and tired on hiding things and being so secretive, but you were scared. you enjoy the privacy, the intimate looks given to each other across the room, the subtle electrifying touches on the pitch when you’re standing next to each other. you just don’t want to ruin things-

“what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” elisa breaks you out of your thoughts, head tilted slightly to take a look at you. you were oddly silent for a while, and when elisa turned back around to see what you were doing, you were just staring into space, a dazed look on your face.

you swallow dryly, taking a deep breath. “i think i want to announce our relationship.” you say quickly, averting eye contact with her. you felt her hand tighten around yours, interlocking your fingers with hers. you look up at her timidly from your lap, and you see lines of worry etched onto her face. her brows furrowed slightly, her mouth in a taunt line.

“are you sure about this?” she questions, concern clear as day in her voice. she knew about your past, and you were the one who was more worried about the relationship compared to her. now that you were bringing this up, she had every right to be concerned.

“well, i’m just sick of people thinking i’m dating that meathead. i’m not. i’m dating you. you’re the one i love.” the moment the last sentence left your mouth, elisa swore her heart skipped a beat.

“a-are you very sure? there’s no going back after you announce this you know?” she looks into your eyes, searching for any signs of uncertainty or hesitation, but all she saw was determination.

“i’m sure, baby.” you smile at her, pressing a chaste kiss against the back of her hand. at that moment, elisa was so proud of you. you have come so far, and she knew how big of a step this was for you — to publicly announce that you were in a relationship with another woman.

“i’m proud of you, mon amour.” she wore a warm smile, eyes crinkled, the midday sunlight hitting her facial features just right. you pick up your phone to snap a picture, and this time you did not shy away from her, even asking her to give you her best smile.

before you left the cafe, you quickly posted it, tagging her and titling the caption as “the love of my life, @/elisadealmeida5. mon amour.🤍” of course, the fans were not impressed, but you didn’t care, for you were finally proud to be loud about your identity and your relationship, and the press and media are not going to get in the way of that.

later that night, as you lay in bed with your head on her chest, you get a phone call from your good guy friend. elisa raises a brow at you, and you shrug, picking it up and putting him on speaker.

“yo what’s up! you’re on speaker by the way.”

“you just had to do a hard launch huh?” he cuts to the chase, tone teasing, but proud. you groan, your hand coming up to cover your face.

“ugh c’mon! they were shipping me with you out of all people!” you tease back, looking at elisa who was staring at you, admiration in her eyes. you give her a soft smile, pressing a small kiss on her cheek.

“yeah, yeah, i know. proud of you, short stack. tell elisa i said hi!” and with that, he hung up. not long after, you received an instagram notification where he replied to your post. “i told you so.. what a man child.” you read his comment and smile knowingly, and put your phone away, turning around to face elisa again when she grabs your face and kisses you hard. you gasp into the kiss, melting into her lips. when she pulls away, she leans her forehead against yours, you panting slightly.

“i’ll say this again and again, and i know you’ll grow tired of it, but i’m so proud of you, mon amour, don’t forget that.” she finishes her sentence with another passionate kiss to your lips, smiling into the kiss.

[lowkeyrobin]

GALLY ; meet me in outer space

summary ; enemies to lovers w gally

warnings ; language, guns, violence

disclaimers ; I literally can't write enemies to lovers lmao

word count ; 916

track ; stellar, incubus

requested by ; @isabellar

masterlist

Reuniting with Gally was awful. First, you had to discover that he was in fact still alive, then have to share a fucking sleeping space with him overnight. You both slept in hammocks, sadly next to each other, on the third floor of the little revolution group building that Lawrence had built.

You didn't know nor care about any of this, you just wanted Minho back and to get the hell out.

You'd hated him ever since the maze, before Thomas. He'd always find some way to nit pick you at your job, make snarky remarks, be all conservative to the rules even when it was just harmless fun, how he killed Chuck.

"Look, I'm sorry. I was infected, I wasn't acting in myself, like a parasite was using me as a host and driving my body while I was trapped behind my eyes." Gally speaks, "Can we meet in the middle here and make up so we can go help Minho?"

"Meet me in outer space, Gally." You roll your eyes, clearly not interested in making amends. He killed a kid, and you clearly weren't keen on letting that go, plus all the weird leader bullshit he tried pulling before you escaped the Glade and the maze itself.

He lightly sighs, watching you walk away, awaiting Thomas to arrive with Teresa in his hands so you could interrogate her. Thankfully, he did return with her, she's then tied to a chair while she's knocked out, the rest of you just waiting for her to wake up.

She thankfully does awaken, instantly confused at the presence of Gally, whom she thought was dead.

"We're gonna make this nice and simple" Gally begins as he stands up, having been leaning on the table you all sat beside. "Where's Minho?"

"I- You guys don't seriously think?-" She looks to Thomas, quickly annoying Gally.

He grabs a chair, sets it in front of her backward, and sits down in it. "Don't look at him. Look at me. Why are you looking at him? He isn't gonna help you"

You can't help but hide a grin, appreciating his sternness that he shows Teresa. She wasn't any better than him in your eyes, so you appreciated what you could when you saw the traitor be scolded or reprimanded. She didn't deserve to be able to torture kids for a living under the excuse to find a cure.

He stood up, setting the chair back at the table as they'd worked on an agreement to get the tracking chips removed from your necks to be able to actually infiltrate WCKD without immediately being caught. You wanted to thank Gally, but you really just couldn't. Even though that weird, overblown hatred for Gally had calmed, you couldn't show it.

You give him a light pat on the shoulder as you pass, a silent thanks in the interaction. He nods, slightly confused and surprised, but definitely doesn't take it for granted.

Over the course of the next few hours, you come to terms with the fact that you were really just being dramatic about most parts of why you disliked Gally, and how you through things out of proportion. You realized those emotions had become weird, confused, and tied together, confusing your brain and your heart.

You wanted to go and just ask how he made you feel the way you did, but you couldn't just upright ask that.

But you did ask the next night anyways while you infiltrated WCKD to save Minho and all the rest of the kids they were testing on.

You'd just watched him put a gun to a guards neck, demanding information. You couldn't help but stare a little, having to drag your attracted gaze away.

"How do you do it?" You mutter, reloading your gun as you watch him get his clear safety glasses on, planning to burn through the lock to reach the temporary cure to the Flare Virus.

You're left alone as Thomas, Newt, and Teresa go to find Minho, leaving you with the large group of tweens. After breaking through, he hands you the bag he filled of the small vials of blue liquid, trusting you to protect it.

Jesus, Thomas. Why put you with the guy you hated on this rescue mission?

As you run down to the parking garage to meet up with Brenda, you hand the bag of temporary cure to a kid in the front, charging him with the duty to protect it at all costs. You reach said bus, loading them up before running around the compound to find the missing trio.

"How do you do it?" You ask Gally, pulling down your WCKD gaurd mask.

"What?" He asks confused. "Don't break out into song, this isn't the Glade"

You snort back a laugh. "You make me feel weird, Gally. In a good way. I don't know how you do it, but I don't like it"

He quickly takes the hint, smirking behind his mask. "Sounds like a you problem. You wanna meet in outer space to meet in the middle now?"

"Sure. I'll hold you tight if you're scared of heights," you tease, nudging his shoulder. "You are stellar"

He rolls his eyes, knowing you couldn't see his reaction. "I'm wondering if that started behind the gas mask you re-met me in, or in this"

"The enemy's gear"

"What a punch to the face, damn"

"Oh, like what Thomas did to you!"

"Okay, calm down"

"Fragile ego warning"

[kiefbowl]

I think sometimes some women think in order to give their feminism legitimacy, they have to find women they can be openly critical about. it's like proving it's not just an ideological project, and that if they can prove they are just as willing to be openly critical of the "wrong" women as they are the "wrong" men, it will demonstrate that they are participating in logical arguments as opposed to emotional ones, and that it can't be said that they are just "man haters" or that they believe all women to be "perfect angels" or w/e.

can I just disabuse you of the idea that anyone who isn't already on board with female liberation is ever going to give you legitimacy? no, you don't have to go to the mat for terrible conservative women. no, you don't have to love everything every female artist makes. no, you don't have to be conflict free. but before you type your sneering remarks about whoever the fuck, it might be worth practicing taking a moment...a beat...to really really think if maybe you could find a man more worth the scorn and then direct those feelings at him.

don't find more complicated ways to still call a woman a bitch in your mind

[corrodedhawkins]

Okay I know your requests are closed but if you ever find the ✨motivation✨ to write a piece about Eddie getting w a librarian-eque chick (aka shy-ish. Quiet-ish. Glasses. Maybe wears like pantyhose and skirts er something “conservative”) and he’s totally surprised that she’s a fuggin F R E A K and not at all mousy as she seems….that would be stellar 🙇🏻‍♀️

I hate u (no I don’t) I heard librarian and ran with it

CW: 18+ (minors DNI) language, shy but eventual perv!reader, manhandling, semi-public sex (library, though it’s closed), spit, degradation, praise, slight overstimulation, oral (m! and f! receiving), cum swallowing

“Hey pretty girl”, Eddie whispers into your ear, grabbing you around the waist from behind to pull you close into his chest.

You jump, heart thumping wildly in your before you realize it’s only your boyfriend.

“You asshole”, you laugh breathlessly, elbowing him in the rib.

“Ow!”, he shrieks, letting go of you to dramatically hold his side.

“Shh!”, you hiss, eyes widening. Your hand comes up to cover his mouth as you strain to listen for the inevitable, your asshole manager Eric reprimanding you the hundredth time tonight.

Eddie shakes his head, dislodging your hand from his mouth. “He’s already gone, babe. “He passed me on my way in. It’s just me and you.”

You let out a relieved sigh, “thank the lord.” Turning back to your work, you start to shelve the books from the full cart at your side.

He crowds into your space again, backing you up against one of the stacks. With one hand on your jaw, the other resting on your tight-covered thigh, he trails his way up under your skirt. He kisses you hungrily, tongue tracing your bottom lip until you open and tangle your tongue with his.

Giving into it for a moment, you get lost in the kiss before you’re pulling away, pressing your hand to his chest. “Babe, we can’t. I need to finish closing up.”

You want to. You really really want to, but you can’t help but be nervous. The relationship with Eddie was still pretty fresh, finally made official after a year of being best friends.

But you wanted him so badly, all the time. The things you wanted to do with him made you feel hot all over, uneasy at your very core at the thought of him judging you for it. You had always been pretty shy and quiet, having trouble voicing what you want.

So, you had stuck to sweet, almost chaste make out sessions, your nerves always stopping you before you went any further.

Eddie pouts, hand falling from your thigh as he nods. “No, you’re right. I—sorry.” He steps away, hands fidgeting with his rings.

“No! Don’t apologize”, you say, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket. You take a deep breath, trying to be brave. “Maybe you could help me put these away, then we could…y’know?”

His eyes widen, sputtering out a, “yeah, okay”, before grabbing an armful of books to put away.

Three minutes later Eddie returns, arms empty as he rocks back and forth on his heels impatiently. “I’m all finished.”

“And they’re all in the correct spot?”, you ask without turning away from your task.

Eddie puts his hand on his chest in mock offense. “Well, of course I did”, he promises.

You shoot a questioning look over your shoulder at him.

He sighs, “fine. I’ll fix them later.”

“Thank you”, you say, turning back to the shelves. “I’ll be done in a second.”

Moving in behind you, he wraps his arms around your waist as he buries his face your neck, pressing messy kisses there.

You try unsuccessfully to stifle the shiver that runs through you at his touch, Eddie chuckling into your ear as he pulls you back into his chest.

When he grinds his growing erection into your ass you gasp, pushing back into him. He groans, spinning you around to face him. His hand cups your jaw, fingers threading themselves into your hair.

You laugh when he accidentally jostles the frames of your glasses, now sitting crookedly on your face. He reaches up to pluck them off of you, folding and placing them on the shelf over your shoulder.

Pulling you back in, he grips your thigh again, fingertips dancing up up up until he’s palming your ass under your skirt.

Before you know what’s happening, Eddie’s hoisting you up to sit on the book cart, shoving his way between your legs to slot his hips against yours. He kisses you, rough and desperate, making your head spin.

You can’t help but groan loud and needy into his mouth at being manhandled, the way he just placed you exactly where he wanted made your core throb and weep.

Eddie files the sound you make away for later, focusing on getting you undressed for now. His hands slip underneath your sweater, inching up your back to rake his nails softly over your skin.

Shivering at the touch, you pull him in closer, hand fisted in his threadbare Iron Maiden shirt. Once he’s as close as possible, you get your hands under his shirt, muttering “off” against his lips until he pulls it up and over his head.

He does the same to you, hands bunched in the hem of your sweater, pausing for a moment to give you time to protest. When you don’t, he pulls it off quickly, discarded on the worn carped.

Eddie’s hands are all over you once your sweater is off, fingers trailing up your sides, over your rib cage, scratching softly at your back before hovering over the clasp of your bra.

“Okay?”, he murmurs, breaking the kiss to mouth at the hinge of your jaw.

“Yeah”, you confirm breathlessly, pulling him back in to kiss him hungrily.

He unhooks your bra, easing the straps down your arms until you’re left bare, only for a moment before Eddie’s big, warm hands are cupping your chest.

Moaning into his mouth when his thumb circles your nipple, you gasp when he rolls and pinches it between his fingers.

He fucks his tongue into your mouth when you open wide to gasp, curling it against yours as he ruts into the apex of your thighs.

You can feel him, hot and hard against your core. Skirt rucked up around your hips, his bulge presses directly into the crotch of your tights, the wet spot there growing by the minute.

His lips travel down to your neck, kissing and licking your throat down to your collarbone before leaning down and circling a nipple with his tongue.

Your chest heaves as your practically shove his face into your tits, crying out as his stubble scrapes against your sensitive skin.

Your fingers thread through his hair, holding on tightly. “Eddie, please”, you whimper.

His mouth detaches from your nipple with a soft pop, looking up at you with those brown eyes that make you melt. “Please, what?”

Inhaling shakily, you take your hand and cup his jean-clad bulge, “please, want you.”

Eddie groans, hips bucking up into your hand as he leans in to kiss you feverishly.

“You’re sure?”, he asks, pressing one last kiss to your lips before pulling back to look at you.

Nodding, you smile softly. “M’sure.”

A wide grin spreads across his face, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb tracing your cheekbone.

“I wanna take care of you first, if that’s okay?”

Letting out a bark of laughter, you nod. “I’m not going to say no to that.”

With one last peck to your lips he’s pulling away, grabbing the band of your tights and pulling them down your legs slowly, knocking your boots off in the process.

He falls to his knees and looks up at you, making sure to catch your eye before placing a soft kiss to the inside of your now bare knee. Holding eye contact, he kisses slowly up your thigh until he’s inches from your clothed pussy.

Eddie’s tongue flicks out to lick at the growing wet spot on your panties, and you buck up into his mouth before you can stop yourself.

“So needy”, he chuckles, tongue wetting your panties further as he nudges your clit with the tip of his tongue through the fabric.

“C’mon”, you whine, trying to get him to take them off and lick you properly.

He laughs into the meat of your inner thigh, glancing up at you playfully. “Say please.”

“Please”, you ask sweetly.

Eddie nods, fingers wrapping around the band of your panties. “Good girl.”

The moan that rips it’s way from your throat is involuntary, the second you hear yourself your cheeks go red, face throbbing with embarrassment.

He freezes, a satisfied smirk on his lips. “Yeah?”, he asks as he rids you of your panties, parting your lips with his thumbs. “You wanna be my good girl?”

“Mmhm”, you hum, eyes not quite able to meet his gaze.

Eddie dives in, burying his face in your cunt, sucking and licking and moaning against your slick folds.

Your head falls back, jaw going slack as you get lost in the pleasure.

His tongue circles your clit before he wraps his lips around the bud to suck, pulling back to spit on it before doing it all over again.

It’s so fucking dirty, you want to cringe and squirm away but you can’t. This is everything you’ve ever wanted, everything you’ve wished you were brave enough to ask for.

The lewd sounds of his lips and tongue slurping up your wetness echoes through the large room, and you’re grateful your manager had left before Eddie had accosted you. There was no way you’d have a job if he heard the sounds you two were making.

His mouth leaves your clit, replaced with his fingers as his tongue fucks into your dripping hole.

You’re rocking down onto his tongue, voice already hoarse with use as you moan and pant and plead for him to make you cum.

“Fingers”, you beg. “Need your fingers. Wanna cum.”

Thankfully he listens, two fingers curling into your hole as his mouth settles back onto your clit, sucking and nipping at the swollen bud.

You cry out, rocking against his face as your orgasm builds and builds until it crashes over you, legs quaking as he licks you through it.

Once you push him off, overstimulated and trembling, he stands and undoes his belt and buttons, shoving the front of his boxers down to free his cock.

He wraps his hand around it with a groan, hissing when his fist finally meets the base where he squeezes firmly to calm himself.

Once you’ve stopped shaking, your hand reaches out, hand wrapping around his on his cock.

“Please”, is all you can say before he’s sinking into you, pace slow and deep and quite possibly the best thing you’ve ever felt.

He buries his face in your neck, moaning as he fucks into you, hips grinding once he’s all the way inside.

You pull him in for a messy kiss, teeth and tongue meeting as you struggle to breathe, chest heaving with how good it feels.

Suddenly he lifts you, hauling you up into his arms as he backs you up against one of the large bookcases, legs wrapping around him as he thrusts into you.

You wail, nails raking down his back and shoulders as he fucks you against the stacks, moving with every thrust.

“I knew you liked this”, Eddie growls into your ear. “Knew you got off on being manhandled. You like being thrown around and used exactly the way I want?”

By now your shyness is out the window, nerves gone as you take his cock, hot and hard, so deep inside you’re going to be feeling this for days.

“Yes”, you cry, head falling back to smack against the row of hardcovers. “Throw me around. Use me, I’m yours. Just a fucking hole for you to use.”

“Jesus fuck”, Eddie laughs breathlessly, hips snapping into you harder. “You’re fuckin’ perfect. Such a perfect slut for me to use.”

He can feel you clenching around him, pussy gripping him so tight it’s hard to pull back out before thrusting back in. “You getting close?”

All you can do is nod into his shoulder, whimpering as you feel your muscles seize, your orgasm seconds away.

“Cum. Be a good girl and cum.”

You’re gone, back arching, legs and arms tightening around him as you let out a silent cry, pleasure ripping through you so violently you’re scared for a second you’ll pass out.

Though he does slow his thrusts, he doesn’t stop, fucking your spasming cunt until you can’t take it.

“Stop”, you gasp, untangling your legs from around Eddie’s hips, trying to get down.

He sets you down onto your feet immediately, eyes full of concern as he asks you what’s wrong.

“Wanna taste you”, you murmur as you sink to your knees.

The sound Eddie makes when he understands what you mean is pathetic, a loud, broken whine escaping his chest as he thrusts up into your mouth as soon as it slides down around his length.

“Oh fuck. Fuck—baby. So fucking good. You’re so fuckin’ good”, he babbles. His hips rut up, forcing himself deep until your nose touches the thatch of curls at the base of his cock.

You bob up and down on his length, pulling back now and then to spit on the tip of his cock, smirking when Eddie groans particularly loud.

His hands are on your shoulders, trying to pull you up. “Baby. Babybaby—gonna cum.”

You hum, long and loud, to let him know you’re aware and you’re not stopping, and that’s all it takes for him to cum, spurt after spurt of cum sliding down your throat.

You lick and suck until he’s spent, his softening cock falling from your lips with a soft pop.

Eddie laughs, loud and booming, so suddenly that you startle from your spot on your knees on the dingy library carpet.

He shoots out a hand to haul you onto your feet, pulling you in for a kiss that he chuckles through.

“Where the fuck did that come from?”, he asks.

Laughing sheepishly, you lower your head as you turn away.

“Nope. Uh-uh. You can’t get shy now”, he says, turning you back around to face him. “I was unaware my girlfriend was such a freak.”

Your mouth opens to answer, but you’re interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing, having fallen from the book cart earlier.

The screen flashes Eric’s and you accept the call, rolling your eyes as you smile at Eddie. You put the phone on speaker, grabbing your clothes to start dressing.

“Are you done?”, the booming voice of your manager rings through the room.

“What?”, you ask, confused.

“You cannot be this fucking stupid”, he sighs. “There are cameras in the library. Just leave now and I promise not to save it for my personal collection.”

[catholictrauma]

this is the place to post about your knowledge and i’m thinking about my little royal sunangel (from the coquette hummingbird family) google deep-dive and i wanted to show you guys these rare little bastards!

this is a male (left) and female (right) sunangel, they’re sexually dichromatic (different colors indicate different sexes) and so, so teensy! they’re roughly 4.3-4.7 inches/10-12 cm long from their beak to their tail!

they’re as little in number as they are little in size, too. they are exclusively found in the bordering andes area ecuador and peru share, where there are subtropical elven forests (because everything about them deserves a pretty name). there are only 8 known sunangel habitats within this area. when documentation started, around the start of the 2010s, there were 12. the estimated population of this endangered bird is anywhere from 3-7 thousand. the royal sunangel population has been steadily — and scarily — declining since their discovery in 2009, and this is largely attributed to the deforestation due to frequent forest fires and the conversion of their habitats into agricultural fields.

it feels like the royal sunangel JUST got discovered, and the scientific community has only JUST started noting down how unique they are among their hummingbird family and birds at large, and now their delicate little frames and stubborn commitment to their habitat range might lead them to death’s door before i reach middle age and have the credentials or cause to observe them myself. ornithologists love these little guys because they feed in these little circuits so no two (super territorial) males may meet, and when they feed, they either stalk and eventually eat insects or take nectar from shrubs and flowers using the punctured feeding holes of some other animals’ labor. also, you know how hummingbirds famously hover while they feed? these hummingbirds are the only ones who don’t. they perch and relax (as is only sensible)!

If you find them as charming as I do, or if you have a heart, you’re probably asking yourself how we go about conserving these birds in the first place.

well, on the agricultural front (which is more heavily an ecuadorian obstacle for these habitats), the situation feels more complicated. ecuador’s market relies on agricultural exports and i don’t see how tumblr users could make the government prioritize sustainability over profits. There are already conservation groups trying to fight that good fight and buy properties on these fragile biodiverse lands before agricultural companies can (you can punch in neoprimate.org for a good one, my link function isn’t working on here) and if you can donate a little to these initiatives you’d be contributing to the protection of tons of endangered species in the local areas.

another way to prevent habitat loss is by funding efforts to prevent the forest fires that frequently wipe out habitats around this area, especially those in peru (the area with the majority of sunangel habitats). there are legal and activist groups putting energy towards that that’s linked above, but another subtle improvement is to provide local farmers and residents with fire weather forecast devices. this way, everyone will be on the same page, and know that if it’s an arid/risky day to light a fire, they should act conscientiously. these devices are being circulated and groups are educating about and encouraging them to the local communities and could use some help in these links. below, i have a screenshot from an organization that doesn’t have a clear donation link for me, but i heavily encourage supporting, because ultimately i think local, sustainable, community-based and indigenous-prioritizing efforts are the way to go.

thanks so much for listening to my little spiel about these cuties, and i hope this information brightens your day and motivates you to care about the beautiful things we can protect. 💙💜

[itsbubbleteataro]

The Radio Host and The Reporter (pt 3)

Parings: Human!Alastor x Human!fem!Reader

Warnings; Alastor being Alastor, murder, gore,

Part two Part four

NOT PROOF READ

When the sun rose the next day you were filled with excitement. Keeping your blinds open to ensure you would wake up with the sun you stepped out of bed. You stretched as you stood up, yawning as you exited the room. You started to make some coffee as you threw together a breakfast of eggs and bacon.

Playing your breakfast and taking your coffee you take a seat on your chair looking over your notepad figuring out how to word your next article. Taking bites and sips here and there you pick up your pen, enjoying a morning of silence while you make some corrections.

After finishing up your coffee and breakfast, you go ahead and put your dishes in the sink, rolling up the sleeves of your white silk nightgown before starting on your dishes.

Cleaning out your mug, pans, and plates you put them away, raising to your toes to place away the items that are located on higher shelves. Taking a step back you close your wooden cabinets.

Brushing off your nightgown, you run fingers through your hair, finding it to be too messy for your liking. You head over to your closet, placing a hand on your cheek in thought. As much as you would love to go out and gather more information, she does need to set to work on actually writing the article out instead of having strewn about notes.

Walking back to your table you scoop up the notebook, placing it on your desk next to your typewriter. You had purchased the typewriter not long after you had your first article published, in fear that your father would end up reading the original papers and figure out it was you all along.

Walking back to your closet you pull out a nice looking dress and lay it on your bed. You then pull a matching coat and hat out and walk towards your coat hanger by the door, hanging them up so you could grab them before you left. You return to your closet and grab a pair of tights and placing them next to your bed.

You walk into your bathroom, you go ahead and start the shower water, wanting to be fresh as possible before your date. You flush red at the thought.

"Oh get a grip girl! Why are you doing so much! He's just helping you out as a friend, I'm sure there's nothing more to it"

You shake your head and puff out your cheeks with a huff. You go ahead and strip yourself of your nightgown, throwing it into your bin of laundry for you do at a later date. Extending a hand to test the water before you go ahead and step inside, quickly washing your hair and body before stepping out after shutting the water off. You wrap your hair up in a towel and wrap yourself up in a bathrobe.

You walk back to the living room, knowing that you're the only one in the home, there's no reason for you to have to dress any more conservative. You turn the radio on just loud enough for you to hear it in your room while you work.

You flick through the channels, subconsciously landing it on station that Alastor works. Deciding you like the music that plays you go ahead and sit down at your desk in your room, beginning to write away on your typewriter.

Meanwhile at the radio station where Alastor works, he found his thoughts too occupied as he looked down at his script. He had about a half hour before he had to go on air and yet his thoughts were filled by you.

The way you had kept up with him on the dance floor the night before, the way you smiled. How your eyes reflected in the low lighting on the speakeasy. The shadows interest in swing music. The way you always had your hair up in a neat updo fitting ever so snugly under your hat fitting in with the trends. The way your laughter filled the room, your bright smile. The way you blushed when he kissed your hand, all of it filled his mind.

He could not make heads or tails of why he was thinking of you, nor of the way his heart seemed to beat faster around you. Alastor couldn't tell if he liked the feeling or hated the feeling. So far it seemed to be more akin to the feeling of a hunt. Ah yes a hunt. He had gone on one last night. It had been a good one as well.

He had used the heart to make a wonderful gumbo, even using some of the liver as well. Yes the feeling in his chest whenever he thought of you was that of a hunt. Something of adrenaline. Perhaps after taking you out on the town this afternoon the feeling would fade, surely it had too.

Meanwhile you finally looked up from your work, seeing that the sun had moved sighed. You had been working on your writing for a few hours now. Getting up from your seat you unwrap your hair from the towel and strip yourself of your soft bathrobe in order to get ready.

You pulled your stockings on first followed by your undergarments. You turned your vanity to go ahead and get your hair and makeup done. Your hair was pulled up into a faux bob and your makeup was done similar to it was when you had gone out, minus the bright red lipstick. Turning back to your bed you tug on your dress.

You can feel butterflies forming in your stomach at the thought of the time ticking closer to when Alastor would pick you up. You gently pat your cheeks.

"Oh don't get yourself in a tizzy girl just close your head(1). Just because you think he's the cat's pajamas(2) don't mean you can go around carrying a torch(3) for him! Oh pull yourself together! It's just nerves, nothing else"

You go to pull your shoes on, a pair of casual boots with a slight heel on them. As if on que, a knock rings off your door. Scrambling to your feet you pull your door open to a smiling Alastor. Returning his smile you pull on your coat and place ur hat on your head and head out with him.

"My what a wonderful day for a stroll, wouldn't you agree Cher?"

Asked Alastor as he took a look over at you. He quickly looked away, feeling heat rising past his neck. Again that feeling worked its way into his heart. Again he just told himself it was something akin to the adrenaline he feels when he hunts. Yes surely that was it. Surely he was incapable of loving a woman other than his mother he reasoned. Surely that was the reason his heart was beating wildly in his chest, not because you looked so beautiful, so innocent as you smiled up at him. Surely he wasn't admiring the way your eyes seemed to scan the area as if you were a newshawk(4) on the hunt for the next story.

Yes he told himself it was just nerves or adrenaline. Surely it would fade after the afternoon together. Surely it had to right? It would he told himself as he looked down at you, having looped your arms together strolling down the lane. He didn't miss the way your eyes lit up when spotted something you liked. Or how you would stop to smell the flowers as the two of you strolled through the park.

Yet in all of his observations about you and the area, he failed to notice how fast the time seemed to pass, only really noticing after you had pointed out how low the sun had started to set and that you were getting hungry.

Without a second thought he lead you to his favorite restaurant. It's nothing too special, but the way your eyes light up as you scan the menu for items you like just seems to do something to him.

He ordered his usual, venison steak while you ordered a serving of jambalaya. He made a mental note of how your eyes shone as you took your ur first bite. He felt a new emotion burning in his chest. He wanted it to be his cooking that made your eyes sparkle, not some random chef's cooking.

He quickly turned down to his meal, cutting into it and taking a bite. What was that? What was that thought that entered his head. He's never had such thoughts before and that says a lot considering his well, hobby.

What was this new emotion? It wasn't like the feeling he had chalked up to adrenaline and nerves, it was more ugly feeling. Gods he was driving himself up the wall(5) trying to figure out the emotion.

You noticed how he seemed to be glaring at his food.

"Is everything okay Alastor? What's eating at you?(6)"

You asked, placing your spoon down and folding your hands in your lap. Tilting your head you watched as Alastor looked up to meet your gaze, his eyes softening away from the gaze to an emotion you haven't quite learned to read yet.

"Right as rain my dear, just thinking about some trouble makers at work is all"

Alastor fibbed smoothly. You nodded taking his answer much to his enjoyment. He figured he would simply ask his mother when he saw her the next day as being wrapped in his thoughts was starting to diminish the quality of the date.

The two of you finished up your meals, and had a short argument over who would pay. Alastor won of course, saying he was the one who had asked you to join him this evening, on top of being ever the gentleman. After Alastor had paid he escorted you to your humble home.

"My dear I very much enjoyed myself on this fine evening. It would do me a great pleasure if you would accompany me on another one later on"

Alastor asked as you had your back to your door. You quickly nodded your head accepting his offer before bowing your head and unlocking your door and closing it behind you.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest, still you denied that you had any sort of feelings for him. Yet you couldn't deny the heat that rose to your cheeks when he had asked, or the way your heart had nearly tumbled out of your chest during dinner when his gaze had softened when he looked at you.

Taking your hat, coat and shoes off you scurry to your bedroom, changing into a silk white nightgown before taking your hair out and flopping onto your bed. Your thoughts swirled through your head. The way his hazel eyes softened when he looked at you, the way his hazel skin made him look oh so handsome in the lighting of the sunset. The way his pin straight was starting to return its naturally curly state by the time he had walked you home.

You groaned, rolling on to your side. You had other things to worry about, you had another article in the works, one that was almost done on top of that. It was a huge one, about all the recent missing people, suspecting a killer may be on the lose. You had to shift your focus away from the sweet lovesick thoughts of Alastor over to your work. You had to think of something for your next work. You got up from your bed and walked over to your notebook, scribbling down the name of a radio host who just happened to be Alastor's co-worker.

He was on your list to investigate and over dinner Alastor did say that there was trouble in his station. Surely it wouldn't hurt to take a look, right?

As Alastor turned away from your door to start his walk back to his cabin on the edge of the bayou, his thoughts swirled. He stared at the ground infront of him as his feet carried him. The troublesome feeling hadn't left him. Instead the feeling seemed to grow. His control on his shadow slipped, causing it to break away and stop, its head turning towards your home.

He stoped when he felt his shadow wasn't with him. He looked at it, taking in the soft smile it had spread across its face as it looked at your home. He shook his head, his shadow snapping back into place. He had to control it for a little bit longer. Just until he got home, then he could let it run lose.

What in the world was this feeling? The way it made his neck and cheeks burn when you flashed him a gentle smile? The way your eyes looked at him with such concern for his well being when you asked if he was alright or when you had wished him safety the first time he walked you home. He was torn between wanting to capture that look in your eyes forever and never wanting to see you worry so ever again.

He pushed open his cabin door and shut it behind him, releasing his shadow letting it run wild. He feeling wasn't adrenaline he quickly ruled out. Again he'd have to speak with his mother about it. She was the only person in the whole world he trusted with such information on himself. His shadow stayed by the door, its lovesick grin never leaving its form as Alastor made his way to his bathroom to freshen up before bed.

He stepped out of his shower, his hair returning to its natural curly shape. He changed into his sleepwear, his shadow comming along. Thoughts of you swimming through his head as he laid down to rest. He supposes he may not mind the thoughts, as long as they don't interfere with his hunts or his work. He rolled over to his side, placing his glasses away on his nightstand before drifting asleep.

The next day after work, he went straight to his mother's home. The two sat on her couch, sipping hot tea. He explained his feelings, something that he had always struggled with while his mother's grin grew wider with each word he spoke.

"Well Alastor, if you were to ask me, I'd say what you are feeling towards the dame(6) would be love"

Alastor did a spit take, coughing, as his mother pat his back and gave a hearty love. She was overjoyed, her son finally finding love, something she was beginning to think was impossible.

"As soon as you start courting her I would love to meet her!"

"Mother"

Alastor wined. He relented, agreeing anyways as it was his mother. When he returned to his home he formed a plan, his shadow excited for the new changes coming into his life, even if its master hated change.

Many a date later, the two of you were sitting at a more fancy restaurant, the two of you dressed accordingly. As you cut into your steak, Alastor asked a question that would change the direction of your very life.

He took your hand after you had placed down your knife. Rubbing his thumb over your knuckles you looked up at him, swearing you could see red dusting his cheeks.

"Mon Cher, there's something I can deny no longer. I would like your permission to court you if you would be so kind"

You set your fork down as you gave your response,

------------------------------------------------------

"Close your head" - shut your mouth

"Cats pajamas" - slag for thinking someone's cool

"Carrying a torch" - to have feelings for someone

"Newshawk" - reporter

"Driving up the wall" - going crazy

"Dame" - a woman