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@cluelessp0ny
"A miss skud mags, huvin a wank tae suhin oan ma phone then just puttin it away makes me feel lik a pervert."
"You are a pervert."
"That's slanderous fae a man that's rimmed me tae hell an back."
"You just started a conversation about wanking while we're eating breakfast."
"The hole in the Cheerios reminded me that a huvnae hud mine fir a while."
The team has been trying to help Simon get better at flirting.
It started off with Johnny noticing how Simon’s gaze often lingered on you, the newest truck loader.
Then he blabbered it off to the entire team. So yeah— Simon may have banged his head against the wall in his quarters and slept that night thinking about choking Johnny.
But here he was, after a long day of being convinced to talk to you.
You had just finished unloading the last truck of the day and what better time to talk to you than now?
“You gotta be confident and bold with your words, L.T.” Kyle’s words.
“No, you have t’ be funny. Make ‘em laugh.” Johnny’s words.
“If all things fail, just ask ‘em for coffee.” John’s words.
Simon took in a deep breath and smiled (the best he could. He doesn’t smile often). You didn’t even catch it either; he was wearing his damn balaclava. “You just started working, yeah?” he asks, stuffing his hands into his vest. Confident, check.
You took off your gloves and patted your sweaty forehead with your arm, “mhm! About two-ish months ago,” you tell the older man, giving him a polite smile.
A quiet hum fell from Simon’s lips as he rocks on his heels a bit, “Once saw y’ trippin’ over a box,” Simon says bluntly. Funny, check.
You stared at him, blinking twice and half expecting him to finish his sentence.
He didn’t.
Instead, the two of you had a staring contest while Simon’s face burned behind the balaclava.
“You can trip on me,” Simon suddenly adds. Funny and bold… check?
Your brows knitted a bit, “what…?” you ask with an awkward laugh.
Fuck.
This wasn’t going how he imagined it to go. He imagined him coolly leaning against a wall or something while complimenting you.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Do you have coffee?” Simon changes the topic, his entire face blowing up with steam.
Off to the side, John stared at his teammate with a heavy sigh and rubbed his temple. “Bloody idiot asked for coffee,” he mumbles.
Kyle shrugs a bit, “T’ be fair, you did say to ask for coffee,” he says, defending his lieutenant.
“Implying to ask for a coffee date,” John replies bluntly. “Fuckin’ disaster of a man.”
i was training a young person at work, and she referred to sexual assault as "SA" out loud, and i immediately was like, "no, it's sexual assault, call it what it is," bc idgaf if the algorithm overlords have taught y'all that you should fear direct language, how tf do any of you expect to ever address real issues with any amount of seriousness if you can't even say the words? imagine an advocate looking a sexual assault survivor in the eyes and asking "did he grape you?" it's absolutely fucking absurd, but these young interns and new hires are coming into an environment where we deal with survivors of all different kinds of abuse, and they're coming with the mindset that the words are as bad as the actions, and that makes them shitty at the job and look juvenile af
i HATE self-censorship for a lot of reasons, but being in crisis work makes it even more frustrating. who are you censoring for? like i am being so fr, WHO are you censoring for? have you even thought it through? people who have been raped know that they have been raped. if someone attempts suicide or is grieving someone who did, saying "sewer slide" isn't going to protect them from any of the feelings. a murder victim's family isn't going to feel better bc you said "unalived" instead of murdered. if anything, it's just extremely invalidating and othering. it's saying "what happened to you is so bad that i won't even say the word," which is NOT trauma-informed care. you are not protecting survivors/victims when you self-censor. the ONLY things you protect when you self-censor are the puritanical ideologies that are being encouraged by rich fascists who want your money and obedience
say the fucking words, guys. just say the goddamn words before i go insane!!!
thw nonverbal puppygirl would like to sit still between ur legs and nuzzle its face into ur bulge while you play video games for two to three hours
Thursday.
WHO THE FUCK IS ED GREGOR??
me as a teenager: man it sucks to have no privacy or autonomy but i guess its for a good reason. when i turn 18 i will realise how young i was and understand why they did all that.
me as an adult: teenagers are an oppressed class, their abuse is normalised and systemic and they need to start killing people
After seeing the trailer for mw4 I can’t wait for them to hug it out
me: ewwwwwwww ewwww ewww what are you pearo: hi im pear tangeniree: hi
Yes yes i know love is love. But they are still killing CHILDREN. over this.
c'mon bro, celestia raises the sun just so you can shine, get out there and appreciate it
better version of my previous twilight window scene. twi absolutely resents celestia on some level, but she'd never admit that if you asked her.
the spobs speak to him.......
i think an unserious price would derive a lot of humor from bluntly ripping ass next to a kid, and then asking the kid why they would "do such a thing"
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm price taking you to some kinda military ball and everyone assumes hes your dad. youre so young and youre sticking close to him all night and he seems protective of you so its easy to assume.
the second he gets wind of this he's making out with you sloppy style in front of as many ppl as possible. fucking groping you at the buffet table. sucking hickeys on your neck while you try to make conversation with some high ranking official. loving how embarrassed you are and how uncomfortable everyone else is
idk if this makes any sense im drunk and fuck daddy price is so hot fuck man hi rommy hyd king ily
Omg hi Vi!!! (Everyone say hi vi!!)
Its your first time at a military ball, and no matter how much you stressed about your outfit or hair price tells you its fine, you look perfect. Still, youre stressed "yeah, but I'll be meeting other military spouses john! What if they don't like me? Or think im too young?"
"Too young?" Price snorts, comes up behind you in the mirror to grab at your hips "baby, half the soldiers there are your age and so are their partners. You'll be fine. You dont have to hang around me and the higher ups if you dont want to."
He plants a kiss at your temple and gives your ass a firm squeeze for good measure, laughing at the way you squeak "Alright, lets get going kid."
Look, the ball is really nice by your standards. Sure, its still got an accent of prom with all the tables and the dance floor, but thats unavoidable. For a bit you hang around price, much more comfortable being by his side than mingling with the soldiers that give you odd looks when they pass by.
But price is still immersed in conversation with a sergeant, and those fancy snacks across the room look very tasty, so with a pat on his shoulder you make the brave journey over to claim a small plate of food. Cute little sandwiches and tiny cut fruit on toothpicks.
"Hey, you the captains kid?"
For a second you almost reply *yes* then realize they probably don't mean it in the fun way. Instead you turn to see some soldier, about your age, leaning against the table with a smirk. "uh...?"
"Yknow, I didn't think the captain was even married, doesn't seem the type."
Hes inching closer, and as interesting as this is to hear you know exactly what hes after. Holding up your hand with the *very expensive* engagement ring and wedding band price bought you, a pointed look on your face. This has the soldier coughing awkwardly, backing away with a half-assed apology before he flees. God, this is why you like older men.
Though...people think youre prices kid? Not surprising, but also not ideal given how your husband usually reacts to that.
You make your way back to price, hoping that a few subtle touches and a kiss on the cheek will be enough to send the message to people without raising prices suspicions. Your dreams are swiftly crushed, though, when you return to his side and the lieutenant hes talking to notes "Oh, your kids back. Nice to have at least one of our captains care about family, eh?"
Price turns to you with raised brows, and amused twinkle in his eyes that spells trouble. He grabs you by the waist pulling you firmly to his side so he can press his lips firmly to your and lick into your mouth. The filthy kiss lasts only a moment before your disgusting husband turns a wide smile to the lieutenant "mhm, just trying to be present in my kids life, right?"
The lieutenant looks suddenly uncomfortable and youre too mortified to even attempt to salvage the situation. He excuses himself, and you half-whisper half-sqeak "john! You cannot do that! Do you want to be written up??"
To which price just smirks "what? Can't a dad show some love for his favourite kid?"
Hes already pulling you into a bathroom, eyes following you out of the room with judgemental looks. God, you do intend to tell him off, but its so hard when price is shoving you over the sinks and muttering "you gonna obey, kid? Gonna be good for dad?"
...everyone learns alot more than they wanted to about price and his maybe-kid that night.
Okay now imagine price with thigh tattoos from when he was younger...
Green and faded, a bit fuzzy in some areas and hard to make out under the thick hair he's sporting. The first time you see price in shorts, just above the knee, you nearly walk into a wall.
You have to ride those. Thank god price is feeling indulgent.
He sits you down over one thigh in the warm armchair by the TV he likes, tells you "go ahead, love, have fun."
The hair on his thigh sticks together in wet curls from the slick of your cunt, making an obscene wet sound with every glide. Price is enjoying the view, one hand resting on your hip and the other holding a glass of whiskey.
"Ye like these? Got 'em back in...well, ninety something?" He nods down at the tattoos, chuckling when you tuck your face into his neck "bout as old as you, eh?"
Even after you cum, you keep going, begging price to tell you stories from back then. He does so happily, telling you about the dumb shit he got in trouble for and the men he got to know plenty of just to feel your jealous bite.
After you've thoroughly worn yourself out, his thigh soaked, he kisses your temple. "maybe me an' you can get a matching set, huh? Something a bit more permanent than your little bites?"
