#Small sample size for a study

[coochiequeens]

Yes it's form a conservative source. But it's one of the few articles that doesn't focus on reproductive purchasers who felt entitled to a child.

by Emma Waters, @EMLWATERS

Olivia Maurel was 30 years old when an ancestry DNA test confirmed what she had known all along: she is the product of a costly commercial surrogacy contract. In Olivia’s case, the woman that her parents paid to gestate and birth Olivia is also her biological mother. 

In a recent article with Daily Mail, Olivia shared how “becoming a parent myself — entirely naturally, in my mid-20s — has only crystallized my view. The sacred bond between mother and baby is, I feel, something that should never be tampered with.” After going viral for her testimony before the parliament of the Czech Republic, Olivia now campaigns for the universal abolition of surrogacy. 

In the United States, only three states prohibit or do not enforce commercial surrogacy contracts. One of the states, Michigan, is poised to overturn their ban on surrogacy-for-pay through a nine-bill “Access to Fertility Healthcare Package.” Legislators are tying their efforts to the national conversation on in vitro fertilization in hopes of garnering additional support. I detail the concerns with this legislation in detail here, but suffice it to say it undermines motherhood by reducing the intimate relationship between a woman and the child she carries to a highly-lucrative rental agreement. 

Several well-respected researchers and pundits claim that surrogacy does not harm children. Yet we know very little about its long-term impact on a child’s psychological well-being. 

Most of those who assert that surrogacy is psychologically harmless rely on a longitudinal study by Susan Golombok, Professor Emerita of Family Research, and former Director of the Centre for Family Research at the University of Cambridge. She is the author of We Are Family (2020), a synthesis of 40 years of research on non-traditional family structures—same-sex, single parent by choice, and the use of all forms of assisted reproductive technology, including third-party conception. She concludes that such arrangements pose no additional harm and can benefit children.

Professor Golombok’s “Families Created Through Surrogacy” study began in 2003 and assessed parental and child psychological adjustment at ages 1, 2, 3, 7, 10, and 14. The impact of this single longitudinal study on both public opinion and policy cannot be overstated. To date, it is the only study that specifically examines the surrogate-born child’s psychological adjustment, as well as the only study to do so over an extended period. It is also the only research on child psychological well-being that policymakers in New York used to argue for the legalization of commercial surrogacy. 

Professor Golombok’s sample of surrogacy families comes from the General Register Office of the United Kingdom for National Statistics (ONS) and from the UK’s “Childlessness Overcome Through Surrogacy” (COTS) agency. The original sample included 42 surrogate-born children but declined to a mere 28 children by age 14. The study relied on a group of families formed through egg donation and children born of natural conception to serve as the comparison groups. 

With such a small sample size, and some families participating inconsistently year-to-year, the study itself runs the risk of selection bias and non-representative outcomes. The study lumps both children born through gestational surrogacy and traditional surrogacy together, too. This means some surrogates are both the genetic mother and the child's gestational mother. 

Additionally, only altruistic surrogacy is legal in the UK, so these arrangements do not involve surrogates who legally receive an additional sum of money, beyond generous reimbursements. For context, surrogacy-for-pay brings in an additional $25,000 to $70,000 in the United States, which may affect how a child views his or her conception, gestation, and birth. 

In each study, the scholars rely on the mother’s own assessment of the child’s well-being. It is not until age 14 when scholars begin to directly ask children questions to assess their self-esteem.

Overall, Professor Golombok concludes that children born from surrogacy agreements of any sort do as well, if not better, psychologically than their natural-born peers. 

For ages 1, 2, and 3, Professor Golombok finds that parents in surrogacy families showed “greater warmth and attachment-related behavior” than natural-conception parents. One explanation for this, as Professor Golombok’s notes, is that “parents of children born in this way [may] make a greater attempt than parents of naturally conceived children to present their families in the best possible light.” Such a bias seems likely, given that parents may feel the subconscious desire to justify their uncommon path to parenthood. 

By age 7, both surrogate-born children and donor-conceived children in the control group were doing noticeably worse than their natural-born counterparts. This is the point when many children learned of their biological or gestational origins. The scholars note that this corresponds with adoption literature as the period in a child’s life when they begin to comprehend the loss of one or both biological parents. What goes unnoted, however, is that unlike adoption, surrogacy is the intentional creation of a child for the express purpose of removing the child from his or her gestational and/or biological parent(s). 

Beginning at age 10, scholars report that the child’s psychological adjustment returns to a relatively normal state compared to the natural-born children, but the study itself reports little data compared to previous papers. By age 14, when the study concludes, the remaining 28 children seem to fare about the same as natural-born children, despite slightly more psychological problems reported. 

Despite these methodological limitations, Professor Golombok’s data from this longitudinal study remains the basis of child psychological adjustment research on surrogacy. Examples of this may be found in prominent pieces such as Vanessa Brown Calder's review of surrogacy at the Cato Institute or Cremieux Recueil's widely shared Substack with Aporia Magazine. Their conclusions that surrogacy confers “no harm” to the psychological well-being of the child are premature, to say the least.

In Calder’s article, she cites three studies in her discussion on the psychological well-being of surrogate-born children. A quick review of each study shows that these authors rely solely on Professor Golombok’s longitudinal study data to draw their conclusions. 

In Recueil’s Substack, "Surrogacy: Looking for Harm," he primarily relies on Golombok’s work to claim that “psychological harm appears to be minimal.” Again, this statement is premature and formed on limited data primarily from her longitudinal study. The other five citations in the “Psychological Outcomes for Kids” section tell us little about the psychological well-being of surrogate-born children. 

Recueil twice cites “Are the Children Alright? A Systematic Review of Psychological Adjustment of Children Conceived by Assisted Reproductive Technologies,” from 2022. Of the 11 studies that examine the intersection between surrogacy and child psychological outcomes, they fall into three categories: 

the longitudinal study by Professor Golombok 

child outcomes compared with other children born from assisted reproductive technology, not compared with natural-born children 

studies that examine the impact of non-traditional parenting types, such as lesbian mothers or gay fathers, on the well-being of the child. The impact of surrogacy is not directly assessed; it is simply mentioned as a requirement for male-to-male family formation. Of these three categories, the only studies that directly address the claims that Recueil makes are the research of Professor Golombok, which he already cited before these additional studies. 

Hence, the widespread claim that surrogacy does not harm the psychological well-being of children primarily relies on a single longitudinal study of 42-to-28 surrogate-born children by the intended mother’s own assessment. That’s it. 

This isn’t to say we should discard Professor Golombok’s study. But honest scholars and lawmakers should be far more modest in claiming that surrogacy does not harm the psychological well-being of children. 

The most accurate conclusion regarding the psychological adjustment of surrogate-born children is that we do not have enough data to draw a conclusion either way, especially not in favor of surrogacy itself. When the well-being of children is at stake, lawmakers and researchers should employ the utmost scrutiny before advocating for any form of childbearing. 

Children rightly desire to please their parents, and there are few conversations more complicated than questioning the method one’s parents chose to bring one into the world. There is reason to believe that many surrogate-born children will not have the emotional or mental maturity to understand their conception and gestation until they are much older.

There is a huge difference between no harm and no known harm. Regardless of one’s stance on surrogacy, we should be able to agree that we need more data and reporting requirements to enable researchers to assess the impact of surrogacy contracts on the well-being of children. In my view, a single six-part longitudinal study does not justify this practice. 

Emma Waters is a Senior Research Associate for the Richard and Helen DeVos Center for Life, Religion and Family at The Heritage Foundation.

#Anti surrogacy sunday #Surrogacy exploits women #Babies are not commodities #Surrogacy is human trafficking #michigan #Access to Fertility Healthcare Package #General Register Office of the United Kingdom for National Statistics (ONS) #Childlessness Overcome Through Surrogacy” (COTS) #Surrogacy is the intentional creation of a child for the express purpose of removing the child from his or her gestational and/or biologica #Small sample size for a study #The results are based on answers given by a biased parent #We need more studies before experts can say weather or not surrogacy impacts children #There is a huge difference between no harm and no known harm

[talesfromthenorsesmouth]

psychology grads in popular media: we despise Freud so much we have clubs about hating him

actual psychology grads (me): if roy lichenstein wasn't dead I'd kill him myself

#barely a hill to fight on i know #and i get that it's a quick ref point because everyone knows a bit about freud and his crazy theories #but as a psychologist #we barely cover Freud other than in a historical context and an example of non-falsifiable data #and small sample sizes #there are so many other psychologists we get mad at #and you can too! #harlow #zimbardo #guy who did the monster study #stapel #guy who did the fruit studies #and lichenstein but that is specific to me because i do work on comics and art but i can and will yell about him #i forget what the point of this post was #oh probably something about how i'm just showing off

[sophiewagentje]

#pls reblog for a bigger sample size #im debating wether or not this would be a viable small business idea next to my studies #cuz I love planning shit and looking up vacation homes and shit #but idk if it would actually work at all #soph’s rambles #vacation

[cocteautwinslyrics]

estrogen may potentially have no chance of fully taking away your fertility????? score!!!

#this is based on one study from january with a small sample size but like

[menlove]

like statistically speaking I'd say most trans people are in fact same sex attracted (not same gender, same sex) and yet instead of acknowledging that most of their community disagrees w them queer t//erfs every single time without fail decide we must all be straight

it's so funny like. baby no we just think you're stupid and bitter

#I wish we had better numbers bc most studies that say trans ppl r mostly different sex attracted #are outdated w small sample sizes that focus on trans woman #I've met maybe two trans people ever who are exclusively attracted to the opposite sex. maybe. #and yet they decide we all are it's insane

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#the more i learn about the history of life. the more alien it seems to me #thats how i want to start my letter of intent #but i dont remember how im supposed to write one. ur supposed to talk about all ur qualifications. i think. y ur the right person for the #position. but i dont want to do that. i just want to chase down the words to make the ideas in my head make sense #bc its true. life to me has become increasingly alien. and i mean that in only the best of ways. #astrobiology has always been my focus but im not quite sure its an accurate descriptor anymore #i mean. it is the way i understand it. for understanding life we have a sample size of 1. we have to start here #until we find something else. so i want to study and understand the life on this planet. how it came to be. how its changed. whats pushing #those changes. but thats not what people think when they hear astrobiology. nobody else seems to get it #like the way i see plants has completely changed. a plant is a very strange thing. it is a body with many cells reaching up to capture #light from a far off star. making sugar from starlight. and plants have a history having been something soft bodied. green goo #but they developed structure. they consumed another small gooey body and crept across the barren surface of the early earth #a biome is dicated by the plant life in a given location. plants have helped to sculpture the ecology of the world #making a landscape of green hands reaching higher and high toward the light #its weird. alien. and i never thought about that before. there r so many things i want to know. im streched in a million directions. i want #to read papers but i cant hold the words long enough to make them make sense. i want to listen to people talk about life but i know they #generalize. they miss the finer details. i want narratives and poetry. i want stories that make me think about the world differently. but i #want to listen to the same things over and over and over until ive felt out every detail and every contour of why its wonderful. until i #understand. but i can only occupy one place at a time. so ive been laying here for 3 hours. thinking about all the things i want to do and #not doing any of them. but its not all terrible bc at least i have things i want to do. and the way i feel abt these things is so different #from how i feel abt what im paid to do. my interests have diverged too much. im not having fun there anymore. i havent been for a while. #all my good will burned away and now theres nothing but the guilt of no longer being invested. but i only have to be here until the end of #spring. so not much longer. and then ill b somwhere else. doing something more interesting. hopefully #that's all. i just put too much pressure on things and then i cant do anything bc im crushing myself #hm i should stop that #unrelated #lol welcome to my blog where i draw ninjas while being unironically haunted by the mysteries of life in the universe

[bird-bureau]

I think my fav recent misinformation post that went around on here was that one post with almost 30k notes abt how “ADHD meds don’t work on your period” and they didn’t know this until recently because “the tests for every ADHD med were only done on AMAB people to control for hormonal difference,” where the post’s one source was a link to an Upworthy article that ADMITTED it couldn’t find sources for the anecdotal claim like. Lol. Lmao

#I was reminded of this bc I was going through my drafts and found a post I never made where I was mad abt it #The cool and fun thing is that you can actually look up clinical trial results for drugs pretty easily #and pretty quickly verify that clinical trials for these meds weren't done only on AMAB people and that the claim is just an outright lie #It's true that there isn't a lot of research on how periods affect ADHD -- but there is SOME research #There's a 2018 study (with a sample size of only 32) that found a connection between hormone levels and reported severity of ADHD symptoms #This is a small study and even they say that further research is needed #But if it's true that would mean that it's not that the medication is working -- it's that the symptoms are just worse around then anyway #So theoretically like. Stopping your meds around that time because 'they don't even work' would set you up for an EVEN WORSE time #Anyway checking sources and doing research is cool and sexy. Please take ur meds #* not that the medication ISN'T working #runner up for funniest is whatever is happening with the soy sauce conspiracy posts #you are not immune to conspiratorial thinking etc etc

[genderjester]

Fighting for my life trying to dodge every lifestyle self improvement alternative medicine i wanna sell u shit website while searching for reliable sources on griffonia extract and the effectiveness of 5-htp irt depression treatment

#im like that gif of the wizard dodging arrows #what i did find out so far is that it does indeed boost serotonin production bc it is a precursor to it #HOWEVER. the most common critique i found is that the evidence irt to depression treatment is kind of shaky #bc many of the studies that were done are questionably reliable bc of e.g. things like lack of placebo control group or small sample size #not to mention just boosting serotonin levels is not the one way to treat depression that reliably works for #everyone #obvious conclusion is talk to a doctor u trust abt this stuff dont order pricey supplements that make suspiciously big #promises #ok that was todays episode of layman tries to navigate suspicious supplement advertisements #sel talks

[exopelagic]

ALSO TRANSGENIC TRIALS ARE JUST LIKE THAT SOMETIMES MAN PLEASE SHUT UP

#ITS A SMALL SAMPLE SIZE BUT ITS A PRELIMINARY STUDY #AND YOU K N O W HOW HARD TRANSFORMATION CAN BE DUDE #also is that not the POINT it’s a GOOD THING to publish early results so other people can see it and work on it too #you don’t just GET the fancy fucking trials you want without getting people interested first #maybe I am becoming angry crop people but god there’s this little group of ‘skeptical’ crop scientists who cite each other in circles #and are so pessimistic abt everything like yeah no dude nobody’s claiming to have Solved Crops Forever but doing a thing and publishing it #even if it’s not perfect. is the only way we get anything done around here #they have a point abt lack of standardisation but there’s inconsistent yield measures #and then there’s criticising early trials for not being identical to farming conditions. the basic science has to be done first #in an ideal world we get it all done in one go but that’s not possible most of the time shut your hell mouth #it’s possible I also don’t know what the fuck im on about! I probably haven’t read enough to be qualified to have this rant #but goddamn I’ve spent the past two weeks immersed in it and it’s getting frustrating #luke.txt #crops are cool good luck to the molecular plant science people I could never be you

[gingerswagfreckles]

I cannot believe I just read a post that said the words "it is in times like these that it is helpful to remember that all of medical science that isn't like, infectious disease, but PARTICULARLY psychiatry is a bunch of fake ass idiots who dont know how to do science" and tens of thousands of people are reblogging it in agreement. How fucking stupid are you people.

#gingerswagfreckles #the results of a single study with a small sample size being exaggerated on tiktok is uuuuuh #not a good reason to decide that all scientists outside of infectious disease experts are a bunch of ~fake ass idiots~ jesus fucking christ #the post then goes on to lament people believing science stuff they heard on tiktok without acknowledging that they r expecting us tobelieve #their complete dismissal of almost every scientific field. on tumblr.

[pandoraslxna]

Helping hands

Colonel Miles Quaritch x female human scientist reader

Words: 4.3k

Summary: Quaritch has to escort one of the most annoying scientists he’s ever met, into the depth of pandoras forest, just so she can study some weird looking plants. Surely, it couldn’t get worse than that, right?

Warnings: explicit smut, sex pollen, size kink, they actually hate each other soo kinda workplace-enemies to 'lovers', teasing, tension, age difference (reader is in her mid twenties), fingering, begging, degradation kink, spanking (once), squirting, authority kink

Notes: okay so I basically wrote this for myself because I’m very h word right now but you can read it too I guess lol enjoy

For someone your size and given the position you were in, you really had a damn smart mouth.

It’s been only a little over three days since Quaritch was assigned to accompany the scientific team to their silly little trip into the jungle. Guess that's what you get if you were the head of security in your previous life. And it wasn’t really a team either– It was just you, little smart ass. Whatever dick you must’ve sucked to even get permission for such a trip, he wasn't thrilled that he was the lucky one assigned to be your escort.

Quaritch definitely doesn’t believe in shit like that, but if karma exists, you were probably his.

It’s only been three days, but you were determined to make every second of his stay the worst of his life. Oh you could argue, talk back and insult him like a bratty teenager, that was for sure. Quaritch definitely popped a few painkillers behind your back, trying to ease the growing ache that was pounding in his head, all thanks to you.

He partly blamed your age for all the attitude you had. Damn youth these days couldn’t even pay a little respect. He was the Colonel, for fucks sake! How did you even get this job? For a scientist with a doctor title, you sure were young. Probably in your mid twenties or something, not that he cared enough to just ask.

Unfortunately, there was nothing else he could do except follow you around all day, as this was a sit and wait situation. You were here to get some stupid samples from whatever plants you could find this deep in the forest and he was there to make sure you don’t get lost or killed in the process. Even if he secretly prayed for that to happen…

Your exopack hummed to the rhythm of your breathing as you carefully scrape the small, thorny mushroom-like plant from a moss covered tree. It’s been over twenty minutes of you going back and forth with that tiny scalpel, careful as ever to not hurt yourself or, most likely, to not 'hurt' the plant. This was ridiculous.

With one hand on his gun holster and the other flicking his knife impatiently, Quaritch watches you do your thing. He was this close to shoving you aside and cut the damn thing off himself.

Looking over your shoulder, you glare at him for a moment after he had exhaled yet another a melodramatic sigh to let you know that he was annoyed, before you continued your work, completely unhurriedly. Now it felt like you were working purposefully slow, as if you were just trying to taunt a reaction from him. Oh he would give you a reaction, he thought, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

"C‘mon cupcake hurry it up", he growls, "it’s not a open heart surgery, it’s a fucking mushroom."

"Do you ever shut up, Colonel?", you mumble under your breathe, wiping the sweat from your temple. This damn heat made it almost impossible to talk back the way you would normally do– thank god. Quaritch on the other hand, had only so much patience left in him. The air was too humid and he was too tired to stand here any longer and watch you cut around that mushroom like you were getting paid by the hour. His grip on your shoulder startles you, as he attempts to shove you away and get the job done himself. Much to his displeasure, you resist him and as you try to swat his hand away, you stumble forward. Luckily, you catch yourself just in time, with both hands flat against the tree.

"Ouch, shit", you wince at the shooting pain in your palm, quickly retreating your hand to inspect it. There’s something in your hand, barely above the size of a big splinter. Nothing serious. You had just stung yourself on one of these thorns that were littered among the mushroom covered tree. God, he knew you would be so insufferable about this now…

With an annoyed glare, Quaritch watches how you remove the thorn from your skin and once it’s gone, you clutch your hand tight against your chest, eyes squeezing shut, hissing and stomping your feet to the ground. He knew that your strange antics were probably to distract yourself from the burning pain in your hand, but to his eyes you looked like a tantrum throwing toddler. How suitable.

"If you’re going to cry now, I’m gonna shoot myself", comes from next to you. The Colonel snickers by the sight of you and for a second, you shoot him a glare as if you actually debated to kick him in the balls or something. It’s probably best that you decide against it, only mumbling a feisty, "Don’t tempt me."

Still, it would’ve been fun to see you try. Maybe that would’ve been enough of a reason to put you in cuffs and bring you back to bridgehead city, end his mission earlier and hopefully he would never see you again.

Looking down at your palm, you frown. It’s not bleeding much, nothing more than a few crimson droplets that had already began to dry out. But it itches and your hand feels hot and sweaty. Hopefully it wasn’t venomous, you thought.

"If that’s going to infect, I’ll make you pay for it, asshole!", you snap at him, to which Quaritch rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue.

"If you weren’t so clumsy—"

"If you weren’t so impatient—"

Back at the outpost laboratory, you were quieter than usual. Not that he was complaining. Quaritch brushed it off as you being tired and having all of your energy already spent on the hour long argument during the whole way back. It seemed like his theory was proven right when you instantly went to bed after taking the longest shower possible, probably using up all the hot water that was left and leaving him with the decision to just shower in the morning. On any other day, he would’ve thrown a bucket of the same cold water you left him to shower with right over your sleeping form. But he decided to just leave you alone, relishing in any moment you weren’t around or awake to get on his nerves. Another minute of you blaming him for todays events and he would pack his shit and walk all the way back to bridgehead.

After a quick report back to his superiors, Miles settled into his own quarters. Well, it was basically a storage room with a bed. Nothing big, barely a room if you could even call it that. There wasn’t even a door and if he craned his head enough, he could see the outline of your sleeping frame in the dark, on the other side of the lab. Of course he couldn’t expect anything fancy and comfortable out here in the forest. It was an outpost laboratory, meant for nothing more than a couple of days stay and not an holiday home.

Quaritch wasn’t exactly a heavy sleeper.

Not back then, when he was still a human and not now. But what wakes him this time, in the middle of the night, is not the snoring of a room neighbor or his alarm set too early, but the slight pressure of someone straddling and sitting down on his stomach.

Immediately, his senses are on high alert. Eyes flying open and hands gripping either side of whoever was insane enough to pull some shit like that. It’s dark and even with the eyesight of a young Na‘vi, it takes his eyes a moment to adjust. His hands feel before his eyes can see. Your hips are soft, warm, almost burning under his touch. He feels you move and his grip tightens. "What the fuck are you doing, kid?", his voice is rough, raspy and laced with sleep.

But then his eyes take in the first sight of you. You’re naked, completely bare like the day you were born, straddling his waist and… were you crying? Your cheeks are red, streaks of tears still visible on your face, with your lips all swollen and red, like you’ve been nervously chewing on them.

"It’s the… the plant", you hiccup quietly, "It’s the plant, fuck, i can’t- can’t take it anymore! Please—"

"Woah, hey easy there cupcake. Deep breaths."

Something was definitely wrong. Quaritch frowned at your desperate state, the trembling of your distressed voice giving him a feeling of uneasiness. That is, until it dawned on him— you were naked. You were naked, straddling him, with your cunt pressed snugly against his stomach. The realization made him swallow thickly.

"Please, please I need– need…", you struggled to vocalize your needs that had already become very obvious to the Colonel. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to hear you say it out loud. He wanted you to use that mouth, that he thought was only good for talking back, being disrespectful and complaining, and tell him exactly what you wanted.

"Need what?", he teases you, a smug grin spreading over his features as you huff out a breathe of frustration.

Despite the firm grip he had on your hips, you still manage to move them, catching him a little off guard. You grind yourself on his stomach, the hard muscles of his abs only adding further to the stimulation on your clit and you whine. Quaritch feels a good amount of slickness leak out of you, covering his skin where you glide over it and he snickers, "What’s got you so hot and bothered all of the sudden, hm? Almost didn’t recognize you, without that usual bratty attitude."

You felt hot, he remarked. Feverish, clinging to him weakly as nearly unbearable heat pooled in your core, liquid arousal covering the insides of your thighs and smearing over his stomach where you were sitting on him. Quaritch would never admit it out loud, but he felt pity for you. Poor little thing, so needy, so wet and wanton…

"I just told you", you pant heavily, still grinding yourself on his stomach as you spoke, "it’s because of that…that stupid plant. All because of you, you fucking—"

"Ah-ah, no need to be mean now", he chuckles. The grip he has on your hips tightens again, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to make you hiss. "No idea how that shit works, but i think you should probably go and take care of that little problem yourself."

And with that, Quaritch tries to peel you off of him, but you cling to him even tighter, hands clawing at his arms while you shook your head, frantically wriggling against him, arching your back and pleading for him to hear you out.

"Please I… I tried to, but it’s not helping. I’m– I need you, okay? Please just, just do something!"

If he would’ve actually used just one percent of his strength, he would’ve easily lifted you up and sat you down to your feet. But he doesn’t. There was just something in your voice, in the way you were begging for him, that made it almost impossible to sent you off.

"Oh you need me, huh? Is that so?", the Colonel chuckled, the deep rumble in his chest vibrating against your palms where you held yourself up. You nodded quickly, sniffling and blinking away the tears that had formed as you were begging for him to help you.

It seemed like your body had a mind of its own, because not for a second did you stop grinding yourself against his stomach. Your toes curl into the soles of your feet and you moan whenever your throbbing clit bumps against his muscles. Quaritchs stomach was coated in your slickness where you humped his abs and a groan rumbled deep in his chest.

"So fucking desperate", he teases, his eyes scanning over your body so shamelessly that it made you squirm, "look at that, cute little pussy‘s dripping all over me."

You whimper softly, the tips of your ears burning with an intense heat as you stare up at the Colonel through lidded eyes. His words are humiliating and they sent your stomach bunching into a tight knot, nerves tingling like a live wire. Just a few hours ago you would’ve killed him for this. But you were already too far gone to care about your dignity.

You felt small sitting on him like that, dwarfed by his much larger stature as you struggled to stay seated. You could feel the heat pooling rapidly in the pit of your stomach, heart beating hard against your ribs and pounding loudly in your ears as your breaths come out in short, rough pants. Your pussy clenches around nothing and it drives you insane. It hurts.

You experiment with different paces and pressures, trying to figure out the best way to get yourself off like this, but none of it works. You could grind yourself against him all you wanted— you needed something to fill you.

You take a deep, shuddering breath, tongue darting over your dry lips as you swallow around the lump in your throat.

"Colonel, Sir", you wail, voice turning into a whine laced with tiny hiccups, "It’s, fuck, it’s not enough… It hurts so bad, I want– need more."

"Oh look who’s begging so sweet, even calling me sir now. And all that just because you want to get your little hole stuffed? How cute."

Your hands attempted to touch him, to feel him, to move— anything, so you reach behind yourself to grab his cock. He’s hard as a rock beneath his boxer briefs, your thumb brushing over a little wet patch that had formed on the thin fabric and you physically shudder when you feel his length up and down. He was big, so fucking big that it made your mouth water, mind going blank by the sheer thought of taking his whole size and getting fucked dumb on it.

"Yes, yes please fuck me, please sir", you begged him. Your breath hitched as you continued to move back and forth on his stomach, setting a rhythm that you hoped would ease the burning heat in your core for just a moment. Of course it didn’t.

"See, that’s much more how I prefer you, begging like the needy little slut that you are", Quaritch told you grinning. The grip he had on your hips begins to loosen the more you move, his hands slowly guiding you, setting a new pace for you, until he’s in complete control of your movements. He moves your body along to the rhythm that you desire and your face twists with pleasure as you moan with complete abandon, while your wet pussy slides across his abs.

Behind your back, your hands fumble with his boxer briefs, ready to pull them down to take what you were yearning for, but before you could do so, Quaritch makes your hips come to an abrupt halt. You whine at the loss of friction and just as your about to reach for his cock again, one of his hands snaps to your wrist, stopping you.

You were powerless, putty in his hands and the Colonel clicks his tongue, voice deep and thick as he tells you, "Yeah, no, that’s not gonna happen."

You pause.

With your eyes widening at his words, chest heaving from the way you tried to calm yourself, you gasp, "What? why?"

"Because it‘s not gonna fit, cupcake", he chuckles and the sound alone is enough to make you physically shiver, "In case you haven’t noticed, I might be a little too big for such a small thing like you."

A whine of complain bubbles up your throat, but it’s quickly hushed when Quaritch pulls you forward until your face is shoved against his chest and you’re breathing in his rich scent. His hands had abandoned your hips by now, sliding over the arch of your spine and feeling the soft curve of you ass. Grabbing a handful of your cheeks, he kneads and spreads them apart, revealing your glistening wet folds to the chilly air of his room.

One of his hands then shift and you gasp, feeling his long, rough digits tease your slit. He groans right next to your ear, "So fucking wet, aren’t you? Your little hole is so desperate to get stuffed, can feel you clenching around nothing."

"T-Then fill it", you mumble quietly, the sound muffled against the muscular pecks of his chest.

He circles your weeping hole, taunting you, then plunges a lone finger inside and you moan a sigh of relief. It’s easy, oh so easy, for him to slip in. He thought it would be harder, given the fact that one of his fingers was equal to two or even three human ones. But you’re so wet that your pussy practically swallows him right in.

Unfortunately, it barely dampened the oppressive heat you were experiencing.

"This will have to do", Quaritch tells you with a stoic face and his ears pinned back, knowing damn well that this was not what you meant when you told him to fill you.

"More. I need more", you cry, wriggling in his hold to force more of his finger inside you, until the palm of his hand was flat against your pussy and the tip of his finger was teasing your cervix. "M’so empty. Need you to fuck me. Please, please, please", you beg like a broken record and he rolls his eyes.

"This or nothing, kid. You choose. I‘m not gonna rip you in two just because you’re too horny to think straight."

He tightens the grip on your ass, squeezing the plump flesh. His other hand begins to move, thrusting his finger in and out of you so painfully slow, it felt like your brain was overheating.

"Noo", you whine, "it’s not enough!" You squirm in his arms, your face shoved against his chest while you wriggle your butt in the air, desperate for him to do something, anything to make you feel better. You would take it, you knew you could handle it.

A sudden sting snaps you out of your little tantrum, feeling your tight hole getting stretched further as Quaritch forces a second finger inside you. You gasp, but instantly melt under his touch. You knew recoms were big, obviously. But two of Quaritchs fingers were equal to the size of a regular human cock and you became very much aware of that fact in this second.

"That enough for you, you spoiled girl?" He scoffs, shifting his hand so he could rub circles on your swollen clit with his thumb.

You could only hum and nod as he buries his fingers inside you up to his knuckles, curling them and feeling the rough calluses as he prods inside you in search of that sweet, special spot. When a loud moan lets him know he had found it, he begins to thrust his digits into you, setting a fast pace. His palm smacked against your wet folds, fingers creating loud squelching noises as he fucked you with them and the feeling of your juices running down his wrist actually had him grinning like the smug bastard that he was.

Quaritch was drinking up every sweet little moan and gasp he elicited out of you like this.

That’s what you were– sweet. Eye candy, sweet to touch and taste and feel. Sweet even in the way you cling to him, use him to relieve the affliction between your legs he accidentally caused. And if you weren’t such a bratty bitch all the time, he would’ve maybe done this sooner. It’s not like there was anything else to do out here. It could’ve been so much more fun, if it wasn’t for your smart mouth and the way you were getting on his last nerves all day and night. If only you would’ve behaved, just be a good girl for him, he could’ve used the past couple of days to stretch you out real nice, slowly get you ready to take his cock.

But no, instead you had to act like a sassy teenager and now he couldn’t give you what you so desperately wanted. You couldn’t take him, not even with the amount of slick pooling out of your sweet little pussy. Not that you deserved his cock anyways.

“Oh my god, don’t– don’t stop", you moan, cursing under your breath and he doesn’t. He fingers you in exactly the same way he would fuck you. Hard and fast and deep enough to feel so incredibly full of him.

"You’re almost there, cupcake. So close, aren’t you?", you hear him snicker, his chin coming to rest on top of your head, "You’re gonna cum on my fingers, yeah? Make a real mess on them."

You’re nodding frantically, chanting his name under your breath and it becomes higher in pitch the closer you get to your release. One of your moans gets caught in your throat when he uses his other hand to give your ass a firm spank.

"Oh fuck", you gasp, pussy beginning to pulse as your eyes roll back into your skull and he knows you’re close, so he makes it his mission to have you coming all over his stomach. Your legs begin to tremble when he pumps his fingers into you faster and you slowly become restless on top of him, trying to move away from his hands but at the same time moving back to get them deeper inside. Quaritch grabs your ankle to keep you still and then a third finger comes to tease your already sensitive hole.

"But you have to ask for permission first, alright?", Quaritch chuckles and your brows furrow, "Ask me real nice, maybe add a little 'sir' and I’ll make you cum so fucking good. How’s that sound, hm?"

Fuck him. Fuck him and his smug attitude and fuck this damn plant that caused all of this. And if you weren’t so close, if it didn’t feel so fucking good, if it didn’t ease the pain and the unbearable heat inside you– you would’ve told him that. It’s the last coherent thought your fucked out brain can produce before everything in your mind goes blank.

"Please, please, please can I cum? Fuck, can I cum, sir? Please I need to cum so bad", you sob into his chest. His chuckle vibrates against your cheek and you’re so close, you had no idea if you would even be able to hold it in, if he would’ve told you no. Thankfully, thank god or whoever was responsible for his next decision, he plunges a third finger inside you, stretching you out the absolute maximum of your physical abilities.

"C‘mon kid, that tight little pussy can’t take much more. Cum for me." Quaritch watches, eyes half-lidded, while your face mirrors your body, scrunching up and then sobbing with relief as endorphins drown your nerves. You mewl his name, moaning and cursing, your body sparkling with exhilaration.

He seizes the opportunity and wedges a hand between your spread legs, playing with your clit until you scream and a warm gush of your slickness drips all over his hands, flooding between your bodies and coating his stomach where you straddled him.

"There you go, there you fucking go", he groans and his words send an extra shudder down your spine. His fingers curl inside you just right, thrusting in and out for the final time and you bite on your tongue in order not to whimper, as you were on the verge of feeling overstimulated.

"Filthy girl, look at the mess you’ve made", the Colonel laughs when he finally pulls his digits out of your sopping cunt. You’re tempted to tell him to shut up and go fuck himself, but the second his hands leave, you can feel the feverish heat creep up your core once again, spreading all over your limbs and clouding your head in a thick fog.

Propping yourself up with your palms on his chest, you look at him with glossy eyes. Quaritch grins at you, with the pointy tips of his canine showing, as if he already knew what was going on inside you.

"Open up", he then tells you and a questioning look graces your flushed face. You blink at him a few times, before your gaze lands on his hand, hovering just inches from your face. It’s shining with your arousal and you blush deeply. Still, you don’t hesitate to open your mouth like he told you to, so he can push two his digits past your plump lips. The taste of your own cum floods your tongue, only adding further to the heat between your thighs as you suck on his index and middle finger.

The Colonel hums, his eyes fixed on your mouth, fingers prodding at your warm tongue, "You’re not feeling any better, aren’t you?" To which you draw your eyebrows together, looking up at him like a lost puppy and shake your head.

"Hmm, what could we do about that?" He tilts his head, fingers retreating from your mouth to let you speak. You watch him with wide eyes, as he pops them into his own mouth, licking them clean from any spit and cum.

Swallowing your dignity, or whatever was left of it, your gaze lands back on his eyes, big yellow orbs piercing right through your soul, eating you alive, as he looks at you like you were the most delicious meal on the planet. "Could you… could you help me out?", you mumble, cheeks turning into an even darker shade of red, "just one more time. Please, sir."

"I don’t think one more time is gonna be enough for such a needy little brat like you. But we can try", he chuckles darkly, "As long as you keep begging like that."

#miles quaritch x reader #colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader smut #colonel quaritch x reader smut #recom quaritch #miles quaritch #na'vi quaritch #colonel quaritch #quaritch smut #atwow quaritch #quaritch x reader #quaritch fanfic #quaritch x y/n #avatar quaritch #quaritch x you #avatar the way of water #avatar smut #avatar fanfiction #avatar 2 #Avatar

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Andy L.

Published: Apr 14, 2024

It has now been just little under a week since the publication of the long anticipated NHS independent review of gender identity services for children and young people, the Cass Review.

The review recommends sweeping changes to child services in the NHS, not least the abandonment of what is known as the “affirmation model” and the associated use of puberty blockers and, later, cross-sex hormones. The evidence base could not support the use of such drastic treatments, and this approach was failing to address the complexities of health problems in such children.

Many trans advocacy groups appear to be cautiously welcoming these recommendations. However, there are many who are not and have quickly tried to condemn the review. Within almost hours, “press releases“, tweets and commentaries tried to rubbish the report and included statements that were simply not true. An angry letter from many “academics”, including Andrew Wakefield, has been published. These myths have been subsequently spreading like wildfire.

Here I wish to tackle some of those myths and misrepresentations.

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Myth 1: 98% of all studies in this area were ignored

Fact

A comprehensive search was performed for all studies addressing the clinical questions under investigation, and over 100 were discovered. All these studies were evaluated for their quality and risk of bias. Only 2% of the studies met the criteria for the highest quality rating, but all high and medium quality (50%+) studies were further analysed to synthesise overall conclusions.

Explanation

The Cass Review aimed to base its recommendations on the comprehensive body of evidence available. While individual studies may demonstrate positive outcomes for the use of puberty blockers and cross-sex hormones in children, the quality of these studies may vary. Therefore, the review sought to assess not only the findings of each study but also the reliability of those findings.

Studies exhibit variability in quality. Quality impacts the reliability of any conclusions that can be drawn. Some may have small sample sizes, while others may involve cohorts that differ from the target patient population. For instance, if a study primarily involves men in their 30s, their experiences may differ significantly from those of teenage girls, who constitute the a primary patient group of interest. Numerous factors can contribute to poor study quality.

Bias is also a big factor. Many people view claims of a biased study as meaning the researchers had ideological or predetermined goals and so might misrepresent their work. That may be true. But that is not what bias means when we evaluate medical trials.

In this case we are interested in statistical bias. This is where the numbers can mislead us in some way. For example, if your study started with lots of patients but many dropped out then statistical bias may creep in as your drop-outs might be the ones with the worst experiences. Your study patients are not on average like all the possible patients.

If then we want to look at a lot papers to find out if a treatment works, we want to be sure that we pay much more attention to those papers that look like they may have less risk of bias or quality issues. The poor quality papers may have positive results that are due to poor study design or execution and not because the treatment works.

The Cass Review team commissioned researchers at York University to search for all relevant papers on childhood use of puberty blockers and cross-sex hormones for treating “gender dysphoria”. The researchers then graded each paper by established methods to determine quality, and then disregarded all low quality papers to help ensure they did not mislead.

The Review states,

The systematic review on interventions to suppress puberty (Taylor et al: Puberty suppression) provides an update to the NICE review (2020a). It identified 50 studies looking at different aspects of gender-related, psychosocial, physiological and cognitive outcomes of puberty suppression. Quality was assessed on a standardised scale. There was one high quality study, 25 moderate quality studies and 24 low quality studies. The low quality studies were excluded from the synthesis of results.

As can be seen, the conclusions that were based on the synthesis of studies only rejected 24 out of 50 studies – less than half. The myth has arisen that the synthesis only included the one high quality study. That is simply untrue.

There were two such literature reviews: the other was for cross-sex hormones. This study found 19 out of 53 studies were low quality and so were not used in synthesis. Only one study was classed as high quality – the rest medium quality and so were used in the analysis.

12 cohort, 9 cross-sectional and 32 pre–post studies were included (n=53). One cohort study was high-quality. Other studies were moderate (n=33) and low-quality (n=19). Synthesis of high and moderate-quality studies showed consistent evidence demonstrating induction of puberty, although with varying feminising/masculinising effects. There was limited evidence regarding gender dysphoria, body satisfaction, psychosocial and cognitive outcomes, and fertility.

Again, it is myth that 98% of studies were discarded. The truth is that over a hundred studies were read and appraised. About half of them were graded to be of too poor quality to reliably include in a synthesis of all the evidence. if you include low quality evidence, your over-all conclusions can be at risk from results that are very unreliable. As they say – GIGO – Garbage In Garbage Out.

Nonetheless, despite analysing the higher quality studies, there was no clear evidence that emerged that puberty blockers and cross-sex hormones were safe and effective. The BMJ editorial summed this up perfectly,

One emerging criticism of the Cass review is that it set the methodological bar too high for research to be included in its analysis and discarded too many studies on the basis of quality. In fact, the reality is different: studies in gender medicine fall woefully short in terms of methodological rigour; the methodological bar for gender medicine studies was set too low, generating research findings that are therefore hard to interpret. The methodological quality of research matters because a drug efficacy study in humans with an inappropriate or no control group is a potential breach of research ethics. Offering treatments without an adequate understanding of benefits and harms is unethical. All of this matters even more when the treatments are not trivial; puberty blockers and hormone therapies are major, life altering interventions. Yet this inconclusive and unacceptable evidence base was used to inform influential clinical guidelines, such as those of the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH), which themselves were cascaded into the development of subsequent guidelines internationally.

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Myth 2: Cass recommended no Trans Healthcare for Under 25s

Fact

The Cass Review does not contain any recommendation or suggestion advocating for the withholding of transgender healthcare until the age of 25, nor does it propose a prohibition on individuals transitioning.

Explanation

This myth appears to be a misreading of one of the recommendations.

The Cass Review expressed concerns regarding the necessity for children to transition to adult service provision at the age of 18, a critical phase in their development and potential treatment. Children were deemed particularly vulnerable during this period, facing potential discontinuity of care as they transitioned to other clinics and care providers. Furthermore, the transition made follow-up of patients more challenging.

Cass then says,

Taking account of all the above issues, a follow-through service continuing up to age 25 would remove the need for transition at this vulnerable time and benefit both this younger population and the adult population. This will have the added benefit in the longer-term of also increasing the capacity of adult provision across the country as more gender services are established.

Cass want to set up continuity of service provision by ensure they remain within the same clinical setting and with the same care providers until they are 25. This says nothing about withdrawing any form of treatment that may be appropriate in the adult care pathway. Cass is explicit in saying her report is making no recommendations as to what that care should look like for over 18s.

It looks the myth has arisen from a bizarre misreading of the phrase “remove the need for transition”. Activists appear to think this means that there should be no “gender transition” whereas it is obvious this is referring to “care transition”.

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Myth 3: Cass is demanding only Double Blind Randomised Controlled Trials be used as evidence in “Trans Healthcare”

Fact

While it is acknowledged that conducting double-blind randomized controlled trials (DBRCT) for puberty blockers in children would present significant ethical and practical challenges, the Cass Review does not advocate solely for the use of DBRCT trials in making treatment recommendations, nor does it mandate that future trials adhere strictly to such protocols. Rather, the review extensively discusses the necessity for appropriate trial designs that are both ethical and practical, emphasizing the importance of maintaining high methodological quality.

Explanation

Cass goes into great detail explaining the nature of clinical evidence and how that can vary in quality depending on the trial design and how it is implemented and analysed. She sets out why Double Blind Randomised Controlled Trials are the ‘gold standard’ as they minimise the risks of confounding factors misleading you and helping to understand cause and effect, for example. (See Explanatory Box 1 in the Report).

Doctors rely on evidence to guide treatment decisions, which can be discussed with patients to facilitate informed choices considering the known benefits and risks of proposed treatments.

Evidence can range from a doctor’s personal experience to more formal sources. For instance, a doctor may draw on their own extensive experience treating patients, known as ‘Expert Opinion.’ While valuable, this method isn’t foolproof, as historical inaccuracies in medical beliefs have shown.

Consulting other doctors’ experiences, especially if documented in published case reports, can offer additional insight. However, these reports have limitations, such as their inability to establish causality between treatment and outcome. For example, if a patient with a bad back improves after swimming, it’s uncertain whether swimming directly caused the improvement or if the back would have healed naturally.

Further up the hierarchy of clinical evidence are papers that examine cohorts of patients, typically involving multiple case studies with statistical analysis. While offering better evidence, they still have potential biases and limitations.

This illustrates the ‘pyramid of clinical evidence,’ which categorises different types of evidence based on their quality and reliability in informing treatment decisions

The above diagram is published in the Cass Review as part of Explanatory Box 1.

We can see from the report and papers that Cass did not insist that only randomised controlled trials were used to assess the evidence. The York team that conducted the analyses chose a method to asses the quality of studies called the Newcastle Ottawa Scale. This is a method best suited for non RCT trials. Cass has selected an assessment method best suited for the nature of the available evidence rather than taken a dogmatic approach on the need for DBRCTs. The results of this method were discussed about countering Myth 1.

Explainer on the Newcastle Ottawa Scale

The Newcastle-Ottawa Scale (NOS) is a tool designed to assess the quality of non-randomized studies, particularly observational studies such as cohort and case-control studies. It provides a structured method for evaluating the risk of bias in these types of studies and has become widely used in systematic reviews and meta-analyses.

The NOS consists of a set of criteria grouped into three main categories: selection of study groups, comparability of groups, and ascertainment of either the exposure or outcome of interest. Each category contains several items, and each item is scored based on predefined criteria. The total score indicates the overall quality of the study, with higher scores indicating lower risk of bias.

This scale is best applied when conducting systematic reviews or meta-analyses that include non-randomized studies. By using the NOS, researchers can objectively assess the quality of each study included in their review, allowing them to weigh the evidence appropriately and draw more reliable conclusions.

One of the strengths of the NOS is its flexibility and simplicity. It provides a standardized framework for evaluating study quality, yet it can be adapted to different study designs and research questions. Additionally, the NOS emphasizes key methodological aspects that are crucial for reducing bias in observational studies, such as appropriate selection of study participants and controlling for confounding factors.

Another advantage of the NOS is its widespread use and acceptance in the research community. Many systematic reviews and meta-analyses rely on the NOS to assess the quality of included studies, making it easier for researchers to compare and interpret findings across different studies.

As for future studies, Cass makes no demand only DBRCTs are conducted. What is highlighted is at the very least that service providers build a research capacity to fill in the evidence gaps.

The national infrastructure should be put in place to manage data collection and audit and this should be used to drive continuous quality improvement and research in an active learning environment.

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Myth 4: There were less than 10 detransitioners out of 3499 patients in the Cass study.

Fact

Cass was unable to determine the detransition rate. Although the GIDS audit study recorded fewer than 10 detransitioners, clinics declined to provide information to the review that would have enabled linking a child’s treatment to their adult outcome. The low recorded rates must be due in part to insufficient data availability.

Explanation

Cass says, “The percentage of people treated with hormones who subsequently detransition remains unknown due to the lack of long-term follow-up studies, although there is suggestion that numbers are increasing.”

The reported number are going to be low for a number of reasons, as Cass describes:

Estimates of the percentage of individuals who embark on a medical pathway and subsequently have regrets or detransition are hard to determine from GDC clinic data alone. There are several reasons for this:

Damningly, Cass describes the attempt by the review to establish “data linkage’ between records at the childhood gender clinics and adult services to look at longer term detransition and the clinics refused to cooperate with the Independent Review. The report notes the “…attempts to improve the evidence base have been thwarted by a lack of cooperation from the adult gender services”.

We know from other analyses of the data on detransitioning that the quality of data is exceptionally poor and the actual rates of detransition and regret are unknown. This is especially worrying when older data, such as reported in WPATH 7, suggest natural rates of decrease in dysphoria without treatment are very high.

Gender dysphoria during childhood does not inevitably continue into adulthood. Rather, in follow-up studies of prepubertal children (mainly boys) who were referred to clinics for assessment of gender dysphoria, the dysphoria persisted into adulthood for only 6–23% of children.

This suggests that active affirmative treatment may be locking in a trans identity into the majority of children who would otherwise desist with trans ideation and live unmedicated lives.

I shall add more myths as they become spread.

==

It's not so much "myths and misconceptions" as deliberate misinformation. Genderists are scrambling to prop up their faith-based beliefs the same way homeopaths do. Both are fraudulent.

#Andy L. #Cass Review #Cass Report #Dr. Hilary Cass #Hilary Cass #misinformation #myths #misconceptions #detrans #detransition #gender affirming healthcare #gender affirming care #gender affirmation #affirmation model #medical corruption #medical malpractice #medical scandal #systematic review #religion is a mental illness

[tallulah477]

Fill Me Up

Kinktober Day 15: Size Difference

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Oral (female receiving), P in V, Size Difference, Belly bulge, Creampie, Mention of free hanging over a tall height (not sex related), Very brief mention of possibly falling to one’s death

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: Guess who has full use of her account again babyyyyyy! Now no one's comment sections or asks are safe. Thank you, tumblr, for finally fixing the glitch after a week. Anywho~ fic is late (again), but I hope you enjoy it <3

Summary: There’s plenty of things Neteyam loves about how tiny you are, but none of them can compare to how you feel wrapped around his cock. 

Translations:

Tewgn - Loincloth

Yerik - Animal resembling a gazelle or antelope

Tawtute - Human

Palulukan/Thanator - Apex predator resembling a lion or panther

Nantang - Hyena/wolf-like animal

Tanhì - Star, bioluminescent freckle

Neteyam’s favorite thing about you is how tiny you are compared to him. 

When he first saw you, you captured his attention completely. He had been hunting a yerik near the human outpost, his body hidden in the foliage behind the cover of some nearby plants, bow drawn at the ready to take his shot. 

A rustle on the opposite side of the small clearing grabbed his attention, halting his movements, and the yerik lifted its head slightly from where it had been nibbling on some bits of tree bark. 

You slowly walked through the brush, tiny hands lifted up to show that you meant no harm as your eyes stayed glued on the yerik. Neteyam watched in curiosity as you slowly approached the animal, moving cautiously, careful not to startle it as you moved closer. To his surprise, the animal let you. Deeming you no threat, the animal went back to its snack and didn’t move an inch when you reached out to place a delicate hand on its blue striped skin. 

Your smile, even through your mask, was blinding and Neteyam’s eyes widened as the sound of your giggle hit his eardrums. He thinks that was the moment he fell for you completely - just watching you admire your small hands on the larger animal’s back. He watched you the rest of the afternoon, leaving his hunt behind and stalking you through the forest as you studied various plants, taking samples and shoving them in a small backpack slung over your shoulder. 

He learned you worked closely with the human scientists, were one of them actually - ‘a very smart xenobotanist’ his father had told him when he asked. He had never seen you before, always choosing to avoid the cramped and all too chemical smelling lab and making sure to stay outside when he would be sent to get Lo’ak and Kiri during their visits with Spider and Kiri’s mom. 

What a mistake that was, he had thought. 

When he finally got the courage to meet you face to face, he was worried you were going to panic about the size difference. He stands at a respectable 9 feet tall, towering over your smaller frame at nearly twice your height. His build is even bigger than most Na’vi as well, a benefit from having some human genes courtesy of his once human father. His body is lean and long like a Na’vi, and there’s no denying that the average Na’vi is incredibly strong, especially compared to humans. But the muscles in his shoulders, arms, and back are much more visible than the average Na’vi, his thighs bulkier in their strength, and he knows the look makes him seem even more intimidating than he actually is. 

But you don’t react the way he thinks you might, and is shocked even more when he presents you with the small woven bracelet adorned with polished beads that he made you as a courting gift and you don’t immediately throw it back at him. 

Instead, you take the gift graciously, holding it to your chest like it’s something precious. He watches with wide eyes as your own scan down his body, slowly taking in the angles of his face, the dip of his collarbones, the hard canvas of his chest and down the flat plane of his belly. They hover a bit longer around his tewng, your tongue poking out to wet your lips, and when your eyes flick back up to meet his, they’re completely blown - only a small sliver of color left around the darks of your pupils. 

The smirk gracing your beautiful, plump lips is absolutely wicked. 

Being with you comes with different expectations than being with a Na’vi woman. You need help, a lot - your tiny tawtute body is not equipped to handle the extreme environment that Pandora throws at you. Neteyam can navigate the terrain just fine, stepping over fallen branches or large growths of shrubbery, jumping large rocks and creeks like it doesn’t even phase him to do so. Because it doesn’t, his body was made for it. Yours, on the other hand, was not.

So Neteyam does his best to help you out. He’d carry you around all the time, if it were up to him. He doesn’t mind. Loves it even - loves the feel of your soft body against his as you cling to him. So small and easy to carry, arms wrapping around his neck while his big hands support your thighs as you hang on him like the small backpack you were wearing the first day he saw you. 

But you’re a stubborn woman. An ‘I can do it myself’ kind of woman, and, even though each journey without him carrying you takes significantly longer than when he does, he doesn’t mind, enjoying every additional second he has in your presence. He’ll hold your hand, or give you a supportive hand on your butt to lift you up and over any obstacle, because you’re just so beautiful with that proud grin on your face when you’ve accomplished something hard. 

He likes to tease you, using his height to his advantage. You’re notorious for stealing the last few bites of Neteyam’s yovo fruit. Your excuse is that since you’re the one that cut it, you should be able to have some too. Neteyam always agrees with this fact, but you knock back bite after bite with the desperation of a hungry thanator, and when it comes to the end of the bowl and he’s only had a few pieces himself - he knows exactly how to put a stop to your yovo fruit destruction. 

“Neteyam,” You whine, jumping up and trying to reach his arm to pull the bowl back down. His arm stays solid where it is as he pops another bite of fruit in his mouth. “Give it back! I want some,”

“You ate the whole thing already,” He laughs, grabbing your reaching hand with the one not currently holding the bowl and pressing it back against your chest. “My little hungry palulukan, let me eat some, yes?”

He makes up for his ‘inexcusable use of his gargantuan height’ by cuddling you after, wrapping his entire body around yours as he pulls you close. You feel so safe in his embrace, protected from everyone and everything who could ever try to hurt you. Just let them try to come and grab you from his unwavering hold - your big, strong teddy bear who’s flat nose presses against your neck, docile and sweet with his shielding hold around his love, turning fierce and wild at the first hint of any danger. 

He loves your curves, loves how soft and squishy you are compared to everyone else. The Na’vi women are all lean, hard muscle, beautiful in their own right - but you, your hips that mold under his fingers, plump chest that feels so good under his head when he rests on it, small fingers playing with his braids that lull him to sleep. No one can compare to you. 

And he loses his breath when he thinks about how much you trust him. He’s your protector, he knows that more than anyone. He would lay down his life for you in a heartbeat, fight tooth and nail to keep you safe from anything - but you have these . . . adrenaline rushes. Moments where you can’t help but want to feel a sense of excitement and the feeling of complete freedom that comes with it from doing something daring. You're able to contain it mostly - it’s not like you’re jumping off mountains or cliff diving into the freezing water. 

You like to test him, try to catch him off guard by climbing on tall rocks or on the lower tree branches and throwing yourself at Neteyam giggling like a nantang about to attack. He always catches you, arms wrapping safely around your smaller frame and never letting you hit the ground. The antics used to scare him, prompting him to give you long, frustrated lectures about how he’s responsible for your safety and you shouldn’t purposefully put yourself in dangerous situations. But you would just shrug him off, heart still beating faster in your excitement and tell him that he should just always be there to catch you then. 

Now, he helps you get your fill - laying on his stomach on a high tree limb as he slowly lowers you over the side, large hand wrapped securely around your forearm while your own hand wraps around his wrist. He lets you dangle there, suspended in the air over nothing but what would be a long drop and a rather nasty death if you actually fell. But he would never drop you, and the look of pure thrill and happiness on your face as you hang there overlooking the vast expanse of forest and feeling like you’re invincible always makes his chest flood with warmth. He especially loves it when you look up at him and grin, reaching up to grab his wrist with your other hand, too, and playfully kicking your feet, swinging slightly and using his arm like your very own personal swingset. 

But his favorite thing about your size is how tight you feel wrapped around him. 

You look so gorgeous, laying on the forest floor and spread out for him like the delicious feast you are. Your back arches, breasts jiggling with each movement as you grind harder against his face. He sucks savagely at your clit, two fingers curling just so inside of you, pressing against that special spot that makes you see stars.

“Neteyam, please,” You whine, leg lifting up to drape over his shoulder, trying to pull him closer. 

“What’s wrong, tanhì?” He murmurs, voice sending vibrations through the sensitive nub between your thighs. His eyes are dark with desire as he looks up at you through hooded lids, the usual amber of his irises nearly completely overtaken by the darks of his pupils.

“Stop teasing,” You breathe, walls clamping down tightly around his fingers. His head looks so big between your thighs, his fingers thick and long where they’re thrusting inside you. “Just put it in already. Want you to fill me up.”

“You’re not ready,” He says, sounding drunk as he breathes in your arousal. “Need to stretch you out more.”

“I’m not an amateur,” You grunt, glaring down at him. “I’m stretched out enough,” 

His eyes stay locked on yours, unamused at your little tantrum even as he gives your clit another firm lick, textured tongue swiping across the swollen nub as pushes his last finger into your drenched cunt. You whimper at the stretch, humping his fingers and face as you chase your orgasm. You feel so full already, so full with only three fingers and it's not enough. Not enough when you know just how full you’ll really feel with his cock inside you. His long, hard, thick, beautiful cock that he’s currently pressing into the ground but that should be pushing into you instead. 

The coil in your belly tightens, and your fingers grip onto his hair, pulling the braids tightly as the pressure bursts and you cum, squirting all over his face and thrusting fingers. He works you through your orgasm, fingers digging into your sopping hole and lips attaching to your clit as you ride it out. Wave after wave of pleasure rushing through your body as you scream. 

When your orgasm subsides, he pulls his fingers from you, ears perking at the wet noise your pussy makes as it tries desperately to stay clinged to him. You pant, pushing yourself up on your elbows as you watch him kneel in front of you - large body blocking the setting sun behind him and you watch in awe at how he can look so beautiful in his orange glowing halo. 

His skilled fingers untie his tewng, pulling it from his body and letting his hard cock slap against his belly. Your mouth waters at the sight. It stands proudly, tall and thick and nearly the size of your forearm - dark blue stripes and sparkling tanhì decorating the shaft all the way up to the lilac tip that’s already dripping with precum. 

You want it inside you so badly. 

He moves to crawl over you, lips pressing reverently against your neck before you pull back, mischievous smirk on your face as you crawl backwards away from him. 

His hairless brows furrow at your distance. “Ma y/n, what is wrong?”

“You’re so mean to me,” You tell him, scooting back even further as he tries to get closer to you. 

He rolls his eyes. “I’m mean to you?”

“Mhm,” You hum. He moves closer again, faster this time as he tries to cage you under him, but you scramble away again. “I beg and beg for your cock, and all you do is deny me.”

“I’m trying to give it to you now,” He huffs.

“Well, what if I don’t want it now?” You say with all the attitude you can muster, and your heart pounds in excitement at his dark glare.

“Woman,” He growls, a wicked grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Come here,”

With lightning quickness, he grabs your ankles and pulls your body towards him. You squeal at the sudden movement, giggling as your body flops when he manhandles you into the position he wants. He flips you over onto your stomach, gripping your hips and dragging your lower half up so they’re flush against his. One of his hands finds your upper back, pushing you down further into the moss covered ground and pinning you against the forest floor. 

You moan when you feel his cock slide through your slick folds, gathering your wetness on his length as his tip bumps rhythmically against your clit. 

“You don’t have to be a brat, tanhì,” He says, his grin audible in his voice as he rocks his hips, and your breathing hitches when the head of his cock catches on your entrance. “You know I’ll always give you what you want.”

You whimper desperately as he starts to push inside of you, large cock bullying its way into your tight pussy. The stretch is glorious, your body molding to take his length, and the burn making your mouth fall open in a silent scream as he pushes in further, inch by inch - and it feels so good, so fucking good and you cry for more, cry for faster despite the fact that you feel like you might split in half.

He ignores you, pushing into you at the pace that he wants, not you. And you both let out satisfied moans when he’s finally buried deep inside you. You feel like he’s in your guts and a large dopey smile graces your lips at the thought of your body being completely used by him, any and all important body parts and organs pushed to the side to make space for his even more important cock. 

You can feel yourself dripping on the ground beneath you, long lines of slick dripping from off your clit and onto the moss below. The burn has subsided into a dull pleasure, and your eyelashes flutter as Neteyam adjusts his stance behind you, leveraging himself onto one knee with one foot planted on the ground. Your pussy clings to him as he pulls halfway out, not wanting to let even an inch of him leave your tight heat, and you gasp when he slams back in.

“What happened, baby?” Neteyam teases, pulling back out and pushing in again, your eyes crossing when you feel his tip kiss your cervix. “You had so much to say earlier.”

“Nughh, f-fuck,” You whine. 

You can do nothing but take it as he thrusts into you, fingers so tight on your hips that you know there’s going to be bruises afterwards. His cock drags against your walls, balls slapping against your clit with each thrust, and sparks of pleasure shoot up your spine. Your hands try to find purchase on the ground but can’t find anything to grab onto, and your fingernails dig into the dirt just to do something. 

Your second orgasm is quickly approaching, the intense stretch and constant battering against your cervix combined with Neteyam’s husky voice in your ear grunting ‘you feel so tight, baby. Feel so good. Fuck,” pushing you closer and closer to that sweet edge of bliss that you’ve been craving ever since you dragged Neteyam out here. 

“Teyam, g-gonna c-cum,” You whimper, and in an instant he drags you up by the back of your neck, hand sliding around to the front of your throat to keep you pressed against his sternum. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna cum?” He asks, huge hand moving to caress the large bulge now visible in your belly. “Gonna cum for me, tanhì?”

You whimper at the contact and your hand drops to massage at your throbbing clit. “Please! Please, I’m so close. So fucking close,”

“Shh,” He says, hand gently rubbing the jumping bulge as he continues to rock into you. “Cum for me, baby,”

You scream, pleasure ripping through you when his hand presses down hard on the bulge. Your orgasm rips through you like a freight train, your hand rubbing furiously over your clit as you squirt all over the ground below you. He roars as your pussy clenches and pulses around him, drenching him in your essence, and with only a few extra thrusts he’s cumming too, spilling into your warm, tight, tawtute body and filling you up to the brim with his release. 

It’s too much for you, too much and too hot as he paints your insides white. He’s still cumming even when you're full - his release spilling out of you from around his cock and mixing with your squirt in a puddle. You shake and twitch in his hold, a long hum of satisfaction ripping from your throat as your eyes roll back into your head. 

You can hear him panting into your ear behind you, trying to recover from his own explosive orgasm, but he’s ready all the same when your body goes limp in his hold. He picks you up, carefully pulling your exhausted body off of his cock, and his strong arms cradle you to his chest. 

“Just sleep now, ma y/n,” He says, gently brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from where it's stuck to your mask. “I’ll take care of you,”

A sleepy smile graces your lips and you let yourself fall asleep without argument. You know he’ll take care of you. He’ll always take care of you. Neteyam Sully - fierce Omatikaya warrior, eldest son of Toruk Makto, your protector, your lover.

And the man who can fill you up like no other.

**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @teyamshuman

#lunaskinktober2023 #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x female reader #taliewrites

[lbxbx]

Cockpit | knj

Pair: Namjoon x reader

Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.

Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood,

Previous | Next

It’s early in the summer, about the end of June you are finally able to take a weekend off of work, the hospital you work at never gave up on you through the weekends, especially during summer weekends where most accidents occur, which is specifically the season you regret taking your medical degree.

Standing in your apartment around 8 in the evening, struggling to correct your eyeliner in front of the long full body mirror in your bedroom, you curse under your breath for fucking up your eyeliner again before putting down the pencil and smudging the stupid line you already put on your lash lines.

You applaud yourself, even though you sucked to begin with, it didn’t turn out half bad. Or at least that’s what you convince yourself.

Your phone buzzes on  your nightstand which makes the music you’re already playing on your phone go quieter, you turn while singing the missed part of the song you’re playing, you look at the screen, it’s Hoseok, your high school best friend who ended up being your really close friend even after all these years of studying abroad and being busy with work, your parents became close with his since they already love him.

You slide down the notification.

“you better be ready when im there”

“u know I hate waiting in the car”

“and you always take so long so pls be ready”

You were going to the club to celebrate the last weekend of your friend Yoongi being single, you had already chose a short flattering, but very revealing dress, barely covers your lower ass, silver that fully exposes the tattoo on your spine of a long flower that ends on the nape of your neck, your dress barely covers your lower back, with silver high heels.

You rarely get a chance to dress up because of your time consuming work that robbed all the fun out of your life, not long ago you started balancing work and having an actual life, you and Hoseok visited different clubs and went on so many hiking trip together through the past year which resulted in you making a new friend to add to your group, Hoseok is such a social butterfly and a comfortable person to be around.

Your lips curve in a soft smile, well he’s right, no matter how hard you try to manage your time, you’re always late, your fingers automatically hover over the screen to reply.

“yes sir.” With a salute emoji.

You get up and take off your pajama set and get into the small dress you chose, you loosen your big curls and make the final touches, you’re looking perfect and you knew it, tonight will be solely about having fun, Yoongi is actually getting married!

Your phone rings after a few minutes and you know it’s Hoseok, you answer and inform him that you’ll be down in seconds, you take your purse and put in your sample size perfume, phone and lipstick, before getting in your not comfortable very high heels, you turn off the lights and make your way out of the building.

You spot his fancy Porsche parked right in front of the entrance, you roll your eyes when you see him walk out the car and make his way towards you.

“Look at you.” He holds his hands out to hold yours. “You look like a disco ball.” He spins you and whistles, which makes click your tongue and look at him with your free hand on your hip.

“A beautiful disco ball.” He elaborates, he looks good too, wearing a gray suit with the first 4 buttons of his off-white shirt unbuttoned. You hug him and give him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Let’s get going we’re already late.”

Flaws and all, I love ‘em all, to me you’re perfect

The moment you walk into the club, Hoseok walking behind you with his hand on your back, slowly guiding you to the table you’re friends booked, place already packed with people. And once Taehyung spots you he gets up with his drink in his hand. “Finally.” He starts dancing, slowly making his way towards you, which makes you sway your shoulders, dancing with him and laugh at him, clearly he’s already drunk.

He hugs you in his big arms and kisses your temple softly. “There you are, I hope you enjoyed the hike you didn’t invite me to.” He says in a sarcastic note making you nudge him in the chest.

You, Hoseok, Yoongi and his fiancé Mia had went on a hike a couple weeks ago which Mia suggested and you couldn’t decline her offer, you could’ve told the boys but it all happened so quick, you didn’t get a chance to invite any of them.

“Come on, it wasn’t that fun any way.” You say subtly into his ear which he smirks and takes another sip of his drink, he hugs Hoseok before both of you approach your table, you hug Yoongi and he hugs you back. “It’s really happening huh?” You rub his back.

“I’m really putting my dick in jail.” He laughs, handing you his drink, which you don’t think twice before sipping it.

“Come on, we’re getting a round of shots!” Seokjin moves a seat away to give you space to sit, his hair grew longer than you could ever remember, he pushed it back but a few strands manage to slip on his forehead.

“You guys are already drunk?” You exclaim before taking a shot glass from him, you all stand up and clink your shots together.

“To putting Yoongi’s dick in jail!” Jungkook says loud which makes you all repeat after him. “To putting Yoongi’s dick in jail!” You swallow the shot and cringe immediately at the bitter taste, which makes you chase it with the nearest glass of juice you find on the table.

“Hey. Y/N, let’s dance.” Jimin puts his hand on your back, you shake your head immediately in refusal. “I need more alcohol.”

Jimin ends up pulling Taehyung to the dance floor, you take your seat between Yoongi and Seokjin, Hoseok already headed to the bar to grab you both drinks.

“They finally let you off work?” Seokjin asks out loud for you to hear him, you nod and straighten your back. “I didn’t take a weekend off since October.” You pout, he nods and take a sip of his drink. “You’ll figure it out soon, it’s always difficult in the beginning.”

You and Seokjin met at the bar near the hospital you work out, he’s a pediatrician resident in his 4th year, you never knew he worked at the same hospital until you met him at the bar, it was only Hi’s and Hello’s at the beginning of your friendship, but he made his way into the group when he actually showed up when you needed him, he’s a bully sometimes, which makes you laugh even when you force it out, but he’s the sweetest.

“And you?” You turn to Yoongi. “How are you not panicking?”

He rolls his eyes at you and puts his drink down, “Typical Y/N”

Studying abroad has definitely made you a bit more open minded than usual, it’s not that you refuse relationships, you’re totally not against them, but it’s just not your thing. You’ve never been through a full experience to love and be loved, but you never craved it. Back while you were studying, your week nights were devoted just for studying and focusing on your career, but on the weekends, you had to spend them out, partying, clubbing, having flings with a couple of people, you liked your lifestyle and you still enjoy it being like this.

You nudge Yoongi in his arm and add. “You’re so brave for doing this, I’m happy for you.”

“I would totally agree with Y/N, I would panic.” Jungkook shrugs, which makes you high five him.

“Come on.” Seokjin scoffs. “Jungkook wants to pound every pussy in Seoul before getting married.”

“Word.” Hoseok agrees without even getting the context while putting your drinks down, Jungkook’s mouth falls as if he was offended. “He’s not wrong.” Hoseok shrugged.

Not long after, you’re not completely drunk, but drunk enough to get on the dance floor with Taehyung and Yoongi, you’re sandwiched between them, the three of you dancing to the loud beat of music, the dance floor is crowded as hell, people making out and kissing in the corner of the club, some even grinding against each other, the place smells like a mix of perfume, cologne, and hormones.

Seokjin joins you eventually and starts dancing with you, you laugh at how stupidly drunk he is, his cheeks flushed red and his eyes barely kept open. You lean closer to his ear. “I’m gonna go grab a drink.”

You go over to the crowded bar, you hardly find a place to stand next to man waiting for his drink, you stumble on the small step you didn’t see, which you curse under your breath for not paying attention, you barely bump into the man’s elbow, you out of habit apologize while panicking. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He said, you could feel him looking down at you while you’re checking if your heels are okay, you shrug it off once it looks okay, you walk closer to the bar while leaning your elbows on it, waiting for the bartender to notice you.

“Are you okay?” The gentleman asks, right until now you realized you don’t know who this deep voice belongs to, you turn to look at him, sharp nose, a charming smile with a soft dimple on his cheek, small orbs that stare right into yours.

You visibly gulp and nod, studying his face and features more, he even dares to shoot a sweet smile at you. He knows he has a beautiful smile and he uses it as move to make.

And at this moment you realize you’ve been quite for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Yeah. I’m alright.” You nod, you know it’s not that hot in June, but you’re sweating. He turned his face to the bartender and you notice his soft jaw and long neck, his long fingers wrap around the glass, you’re pretty sure he said something, but you were busy staring at his buff arms making their way to his back pocket to locate his wallet, your eyes chase every single movement he makes, and with his hands locating his wallet in his front pocket, your eyes fall on his thick thighs, where did this man come from?

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks, immediately making you snap out of your thoughts, you look up and clear your throat. “I’ll have a martini.”

An awkward silence and tension builds between you and the man right next to you, you want to say something but you don’t want to sound stupid, you choose to ignore your thoughts and just take your phone out of your purse and act occupied, you look very stupid when you’re deleting old pictures on your phone.

“Y/N?” He says, which makes your eyes widen and you almost choke in your own breath, you look at him again, Do you know him?

“I’m sorry?” You answer surprisingly fast, which makes him take a sip from his drink and laugh. “Your phone case is a pass card.”

You’re confused for a second, still trying to process what he’s saying, you’re drunk, but not drunk enough to be this stupid and slow and thick?

He can easily read your face and he shoots you another one of his smiles, he knows what he’s doing.

He gives you a look, which clearly means ‘Can I?’, And you shrug telling him to elaborate. He grabs your phone and flips it over still remaining in your hands, which reveals your see through phone case, that you have your hospital pass card inside it, showing your full name in a large font.

“Ah this.” You immediately turn your phone back, you hope he didn’t see too much, like where you work or what’s your job. You look back at him to see him staring right into your face, studying your features too.

“I’m Namjoon.” He reaches his hand out to shake yours, and you don’t hesitate at all to shake his hand back and feel his long fingers squeezing your hand ever so softly, both of you shaking hands and not letting go for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry for catching you off guard.” He grins, which makes you feel like something is pinching you in your stomach. “But you have your pass card on full display, which if it  makes you feel better, I just saw your first name, nothing else.”  He adds, like he knew what you were concerned about.

“Y/N!” Jungkook calls from behind, which makes you pull your hand away from Namjoon’s in the speed of light, your weird attitude doesn’t go unnoticed by him, he looks back at Jungkook and turns back to face the bar and take a sip of his drink.

“Come on, we’re popping the champagne.” Jungkook’s hand sits respectfully on your upper back, you nod and look back at him. “I’m waiting for my drink, I’ll follow you in a second.” although your drink has been sitting in front of you for the past few seconds, Jungkook is too drunk to notice and he heads back to your table, Namjoon turns to look at the sight of Jungkook joining the rest of the boys around the table.

“Your boyfriend?” He asks, which you think is a little bit over the line.

“Him?” You cringe. No offense to Jungkook, but you and him are just friends, you almost ended up sleeping with him long time ago and thankfully it didn’t happen, you’re just friends, and you’re smart enough to know it’s wrong if you did it. “Absolutely not.” You enunciate it.

Your fingers wrap around your drink and you know it’s your turn to make him look. “Nice to meet you Namjoon.” You clink your glass with his that’s resting on the table, and you turn and move your hair to the side to expose your tatted back to him, you walk towards the table and join the boys for the rest of the night.

Your night has come to an end, you’re leaning against the wall outside the club with Jimin waiting for Hoseok to bring his car, your heels in your hands and Jimin’s jacket  on your shoulders, muffled music from inside still in your ears, you’re done for the night, you’re not completely drunk, but you started having a strong headache minutes ago, you need to rest, shower and go to sleep.

You laugh at Taehyung teasing Jungkook and you join Taehyung, Jungkook ends up flipping Taehyung off and sending you a fly kiss which is way over you when you see behind him Namjoon, walking out of the club with what seems like his friends.

Ironically, you can hear the song ‘Satisfaction’ played from the inside.

Push me, and then just touch me.

Till I can get my satisfaction.

He had his suit jacket in his hands, he was rolling his shirt sleeves slowly up with his long fingers.

Are you drooling?

He sits on a near bench and just man spreads his legs, his hand taking out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, he takes one out and puts it in between his plump lips, clicking the lighter a couple of times while shielding the flame with his other hand before it goes to his hair and runs his fingers through it, he looks around and notices you staring at him, you’re not even blinking. He hallows his cheeks while taking a drag and blows out a huge cloud of smoke.

This man walked out of a fucking book!

He doesn’t hesitate to show you his dimple one last time before winking at you, your breath hitches and your hand goes to your stomach, there’s a knot that you feel only he can make it feel better, you’re sweating more than usual, and you can feel the heat between your legs getting uncomfortable.

“Drive safe Hoseok.” Jin opens the passenger seat and looks at you, you snap out of your thoughts and turn towards the car, “Don’t forget our dinner tomorrow.” He adds.

You had already planned on a celebration dinner for Yoongi too, this time a little more formal considering some of the boys are bringing along their girlfriends. You nod and look one last time at Namjoon. You secretly wish you took his number or had a drink with him, but you’re not a girl who makes a first move, for your pride’s sake, it’s always guys making a move on you.

“Text me when you get there safe.” Yoongi leans his palms on the roof of the car, you get into the car and buckle your seat belts.

You and Yoongi didn’t meet long ago, about a year and a half ago, you were with Hoseok and Jungkook playing bowling, when Jungkook got a little too competitive and decided to challenge the table next to you, which had Yoongi, his girlfriend, now fiancé. And other friends. Yoongi won of course, which you and Hoseok admired that finally someone humbled this man, you met him again at the bowling place and you just clicked with him. He’s also offered his help since he works at a bank, he makes everything easier for you. He’s a true friend.

“Good night.” You smile at him. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You wave to the rest of the boys and they wave back, you turn to look at that bench again, Namjoon must’ve left because you can’t locate him, you lean your head back into the car seat and your hands move to the air conditioning, you’re on fire!

Hoseok didn’t drink throughout the night since he’s driving, he did take a couple sips of whine, but he’s not drunk at all.

Doesn’t take that long to get back to your place, you undress and get into the shower and clean off your makeup, you take a bottle of water out from the fridge and sit in your living room.

The images of this man is haunting you, you only know his name and his face, you don’t know what he does, where he lives, how old is he?

You look at your phone and open up your social media, shuffling between the apps and searching ‘Namjoon’. You don’t even know his last name, he could use a picture that’s not his.

Your friends admired that you were talented in finding people’s accounts, especially when one of the men had a secret crush on a girl, you would help them find her social accounts by trying to search in different ways.

And you did manage to find an instagram account, the username matching his real name, the picture was taken on a beach, a figure of a tall man with his back turned to the camera, it could be him after all

You open the account but it’s clearly not active, following 120 accounts and followed by 70, and only 1 photo uploaded. But the account is private.

You put down your phone in frustration and sigh, you end up gulping your water and going to bed. It’s just a one time thing, you won’t see him again.

Or at least that’s what you think.

It’s the moment he walks back to his house when he feels the heavy weight of the world on his shoulders, he stands in front of his apartment door, debating whether he should go inside or just go crash at his parents.

No, no. They don’t have to know.

Kim Namjoon, the successful man who went out of the box and did the extraordinary, chose an out of the box job, with a high degree. Quickly managed to pull his life together and marry—well not the love of his life, it’s the woman he got used to being around.

Married for 3 years and not once did he feel that this marriage is about them, it was about her and only her.

First year was low key not that bad but not that good either, every married couple have fallouts, but he assumes that they both have to compromise, but only he had to compromise. She wants everything done her way, she wants him to eat what she eats, go where she goes, not out of love, but out of habit of controlling people around her.

Yet he was sweet and considerate, she travelled to a different province to live with him away from her parents, maybe that’s why she’s acting like this, she’s probably homesick, he did everything he could to make it up to her, he bathed her with love and gifts and money. He wanted to show her the world quite literally, but she just refuses every act of love, even denies his touch in front of their family, never did she ever like a photo he posted of both of them, she never left a comment which he really craves. He wants to show people he loves her.

Even when he once tried to surprise her on their one year anniversary, booked her first class seats to New York on new years eve, she completely rejected and never even said thank you. Goodness, she never even gifted him on his birthday.

Second year things went significantly downhill, when they found out she’s pregnant. Planning for kids was never on the table, not that they don’t want kids, but this kid is totally unplanned for. He so desperately wants to be a dad, but he’s not sure how she feels about him, or most importantly how he feels about her. They’re married just by name.

She made up an excuse for being a tough sleeper and she wanted her own bed, he gave up the master bedroom to give her her own space, and moved out to the couch at first when he thought it was temporarily or short termed.

3 Months, 4 months..

9 Months passed, she gave birth and came up with another excuse of the baby crying at night, he had flights to catch in the morning, she doesn’t want to mess up his sleep. As if she cares.

A man has his own desires, he tried different ways, kissing her, touching, even suggesting movie nights to show her something that might make her aroused, none.

He adores his son, that’s what’s keeping him sane at the moment, although when he comes back late from work, baby Jay mostly gets ready for bed by that time. Play time with daddy is not allowed, he can’t even love his son the way he should.

His son turned 2 in their third year of marriage, he can now talk , walk, even run. And baby Jay doesn’t seem to like mommy as much as he likes daddy, although he spends most of the weekends in Ilsan with her parents, but he’s still attached to his daddy.

It was 2 in the morning, standing in front of his apartment door, the debate tonight is taking longer than usual, especially when he saw you, the astonishing lady who fucking screams his type, outgoing, gorgeous, attractive, social hence your large group of friends.

He searches his pockets before fishing out his ring, puts it back on his left ring finger, before pressing the pass code on the door, the lights are.. On?

He makes his way inside his flat and locks the door behind him, “Where have you been?” She storms out from the guests room, a huge ugly frown on her once he thought was a pretty face.

“I’m sorry, I went out with guys from work.” Namjoon’s job kind of restrained him when it came to having friends, he did have some, but they ended up getting busy with their regular jobs and life, it became easier to hang out with his co workers because they got off work together, plus they click and get along really well.

“Do you know what time it is?”

When he looks at her, he swims in a deep pond of thoughts in his head, he can’t even remember the last time she showed him skin, he did excuse her when she gave birth when she wanted to be in comforting clothes, but their soon is at her parents house, she could at least try and show some skin.

In a pair of sweat pants and an oversized stained shirt, who is he to judge, at least she’s comfortable, and those stains show her effort of being a lousy housewife.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes for the second time in a span of 4 minutes, walks closer to her, a few inches away from grabbing her hips, she immediately hovers her hand on his chest, not even touching him, signaling him to get away.  “Ew, did you smoke?” She covers her nose with the back of her hand, before turning and walking towards the bedroom while shutting off the living room lights. “Clean yourself up and go to bed, and turn of the rest of the lights, we’re paying too much for the bills.”

A small breath of frustration leaves his nose, she slams the door shut which he doesn’t even flinch, he’s so used to her being the worst human being he’s ever met.

He puts his jacket down on the couch and throws himself down on it, his head falls back and his eyes just close for a split second.

Music from the club still playing in his head when he remembers your breath taking figure walking away from him, your back explicitly making a show for him, he wished he could touch your tattoo with his fingertips at least. And what you didn’t see was his eyes roaming around your body, as if he’s not believing his eyes actually seeing someone that looks exactly like the woman he imagined having in his teenage years.

His eyes so passionately with high concentration focus on your calves and thighs, up to your ass that he wants to dive in so desperately, he admires your skin color, the small birthmark on the back of your thigh, your chest rising when your breathing quickens, up to your long neck begging for his fingers to just wrap around and for his lips to suck on, up to your lips pursing with each word and your tongue moving to your lower lip when you look at him, then finally his eyes met yours, and he finds the way you look at him insanely hot, he was never looked at like this, and he’s so positive that you both are on the same page.

His eyebrows scrunch in a frown when he rewinds the night.

Did you just flirt with someone when you’re married?  He thinks before scoffing, totally forgetting the tought that he started filing for divorce a couple weeks ago, without even letting his wife know, it’s the last thing he wanted for his son to experience his parents getting a divorce, but his marriage went down the pooper and it’s just a lost cause.

The lawyer said it’s going to take some time, especially when there’s a baby between them, but still, is he allowed to flirt with someone while still being involved in a marriage?

But fuck, what you actually do to him? He finds himself palming his jeans, slowly but surely unzipping it to make himself more comfortable, the bulge in his pants is way too tight for his liking.

He gets up and makes his way to the bathroom, undressing in seconds and getting under the running warm water, his hands move to his body lotion before he puts some into his palm and rubs it all over his sculpted big body, his hands going slowly to his already erect cock, he grabs the head tightly in between his thumb and index finger, stroking it slowly, making sure to take his time to feel the pleasure, his eyes even close and all he can see is you

Namjoon was a man with a fucking wild brain and an even wilder imagination, sudden scenarios go through his brain, you dancing, even him touching you, his eyes close tighter, not totally satisfied with his vanilla imagination, it needs to be harder.

And in a snap of a finger he can see himself fucking your tight pussy from behind, ruining you and using you to release all his frustration, he imagines kissing your spine and running his tongue on it. His messed up thoughts show him your mouth around his monstrously large dick, choking on it, and that’s when he totally gives in and grows weaker, his muscles relaxing when he shoots continuous white ribbons of cum on the shower floor, his breath going quicker when he releases, he tenses again and a small groan escapes his plump lips when he looks down at his cock still shooting cum, this has never happened with him before and it makes him wonder on the spot, fuck what are you doing to him.

His palm automatically leans on the wall for support, he starts breathing slowly to control his breath. He came hard imagining you in his hands, which if you knew you would be flattered.

He cleans himself up and gets out of the shower, gets dressed and rushes to bed, he has to pick up Jay from Ilsan tomorrow.

#namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #kpop smut #bts x reader #namjoon smut #kim namjoon

[cordycepsfem]

Today in: are the gender people okay?

“Being silent and moving to a different game does not make us more safe.”

Sir, this is about Stardew Valley.

But when you believe bullshit like the below to be true I’m sure the world is just littered with dangers:

>“Trans women are not biological men.”

> the study (which would not link to Tumblr no matter what I did but the New York Times has the quote from Pitsiladis) literally says trans women have an advantage over “cisgender” women in sports and also acknowledges that it studied fewer than 100 participants total (19 men, 12 trans men, 23 trans women, 21 women) so the sample size is so small as to be useless

> so now you’re just a male doped up on exogenous cross-sex hormones who’s better than women at a sport but worse than other men and doctors aren’t even calling you a man now

> and you’ll still never be a woman

> and you can’t even play as a trans or nonbinary farmer in Stardew Valley so are you safe anywhere?!?$?

#radblr #radical feminism #terfs do touch #terfblr #gender nonsense

[optimisticlucio]

So, about 5 days back YouGov released poll results for a very comprehensive public opinion poll they did for the US, which you can see here: https://d3nkl3psvxxpe9.cloudfront.net/documents/econTabReport_tT4jyzG.pdf The poll itself asks about a lot of different topics, but the section I wanna focus on here is the section between pages 96 to 112, which focuses on Antisemitism and Israel. Most polls with questions like these tended to only survey around 100~200 people, and had really depressing results, so I was really hoping going into this study that we'd see some more cheerful statistics. Maybe those small sample sizes caused some bias, I dunno. Maybe the numbers were off.

I kept being disappointed by how many people denied the holocaust in those studies. I didn't want to believe those numbers were real, quite frankly.

Well.

Of a poll of 1500 people, give or take, 7% say the holocaust is a myth, with another 16% saying they "don't know" whether it is or isn't, with people in the 18-29 age group having even more alarming numbers than that: 20% think the holocaust is a myth, and 30% that they don't know. Conversely, in the 65+ age group, not a single responder denies the holocaust.

If you take this poll as being representative, then out of 331.9 million people living in the US, that gives us about 23.2 million people (rounded down) in the US alone who think the holocaust did not happen.

For reference, there are only 16.2 million jews in the entire world, with 7.1~ million of them in Israel.

Turns out the numbers I saw previously were representative.

Fuck, dude.

#judaism #jumblr #antisemitism #politics #this is. #this is fucked #i legitimately have no idea how to process it #i keep trying to be optimistic yknow #trying to think “nah it's not all bad” #I still refuse to give in to the rhetoric that we are only safe in israel #only safe in a gilded cage onto our own #but what the fuck can i do here dude #you can read the numbers as well as I do #this is #fuck. #ישראבלר