#it was over 40 degrees Celsius | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itoshi-s · 2 years

Note

can I ask you Sae or Kaiser on the weekend at their house with their s/o and can't stop teasing each other before you know 🤭...

I love your writing <3 thank you so much !

hii anon !! went with sae for this one as of i dont write for kaiser ( and i am biased hehe ), hope you like it !!(´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭

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*.✧ ft. sae itoshi

*.✧ wc: 4.3k. not proofread. nsfw / 18+ only / minors dni ! - fem reader, sae's a pro player and in his early 20s. mention of masturbation, asphyxiation/choking, hard dom! sae (but turns softer), sae dirty talks a lot, he calls you a whore once :'>, squirting. note: inspired by in heat by hentai xander !!

*.✧ the heatwave takes it's toll on you, but sae doesn't really like excuses.

although rare, there are times where you regret flying to spain with sae.

it’s usually during one of your screaming matches, when he lets his mouth run and says a few words too many. (he’s quick to widen his eyes though at the sight of your wobbling lip, and soon has you in an embrace so strong there is no way you’re going to run away from him.) sometimes, it’s when you two can’t enjoy a peaceful night out, having to leave early because you can see people start to gather outside the club, having heard of the opportunity to see real madrid’s prodigy in the flesh. and then, it’s days like this - when all you can do is lay nearly naked on the once cool sheets, the ac blasting, and yet, your skin still shines with sweat, making the tee you’re wearing nearly see through as it sticks to your flesh.

it’s not like you’re a total wimp - you’ve always liked the humid heat that had so many people visiting spain all year round, and it even made you giddy when you could finally start wearing the skimpy, flowy clothing that back in your hometown, you only got to wear on the few hottest summer days. now, as you nearly feel lightheaded, you figure that 40 degrees celsius might just be the temperature that beats you.

“it’s almost 6 and you still haven’t moved from the bed,” sae sounds amused from his spot on the balcony, glancing at you through the ajar doors. you turn your head to his direction, brows furrowing as you lean up on your forearm.

“you’re letting the heat back in,” you whine, throwing your legs over the edge of the bed as you stand up rapidly. sae seems unbothered at the annoyed expression you wear, instead finishing his unknown iced beverage with a slurp of the straw, only turning your attention to you when his sight of the city below is blocked by that of your bare thighs. “this really doesn’t bother you, not one bit?”

craning his head up to look at you, sae places the glass down and snakes his hands on the behind of your thighs. massaging the flesh, he can feel just how heated your body is - the warmth making his abdomen stir.

“got used to it,” he shrugs, a shadow of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as your hands quickly work on prying his off your legs.

standing between his spread thighs, you are a sight that is just enough to make him harden in his shorts. he has to shift in his seat, hips bucking up momentarily and he knows, sees that your eyes flicker downwards, to where his hard on bulges in the 5 inch inseam shorts.

“gross,” you scrunch your nose, but the slight shudder of your chest tells him otherwise. “don’t even think ‘bout it. i can barely stand in this heat, let alone keep up with you.”

the attitude you’ve been sporting since yesterday, when the temperature started to rise abruptly, has been keeping sae on his toes ever since he first noticed the grimace on your face. now, that you were finally in his arms’ reach and he won’t have to share you with anybody else, it seems like life decided to punish him for all his sins and selfish ways. the first time you rebuffed his efforts, it made annoyance bubble deep within his chest and he had to bite on his tongue as to not say something that’d only push you away further. if there was one thing sae hates, it is to impose on you- it’s all against everything that ever got him going. needing, craving you - wanting you all over him. nothing can rile him up the way your teary eyes do, whimpers and pleads turning to blabbering, muscles aching to touch him - but now, the image seems as far away as it did months ago, when thousand kilometers kept you separated.

kissing his teeth, sae stands up from his seat and delivers a single smack to your bottom, fingers grabbing at the flesh, forcing a yelp from your throat. “watch it,” he quips, a finger sneaking behind the waistband of your thong to playfully snap it back. “you don’t want me joinin’ in.”

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yeah, you didn’t want him to join your little teasing game. that you know for sure, but you suppose it is too late for regrets now, when the temperature is still breaking the records and yet, sae managed to kindle an even stronger heat inside of you.

you have many things at the back of your head to keep worrying about, but somehow, sae and his presence all around is on the top of the list. now it isn’t just the mind fogging heat you have to suffer from, but also sae and his screwing around and to make it worse, you can’t escape it not even for a minute - you really do feel trapped with the consequences of your very own actions, right in your and sae’s top floor apartment. the heat is bringing you two main obstacles, that you just cannot seem to win over: you cannot leave the house to get back at sae and focus your mind anywhere else (you would quite literally melt), and, similarly, sae can’t leave either, considering the temperature’s high enough to keep people from doing daily tasks outside, yet alone practice and exhaust themselves (unlike you, he is very much thankful for the few obligatory days off). this leaves you in a position where you have to either swallow down your pride, give in to your urges - which feel almost primal to you now - and start begging your boyfriend for even just a lick of his attention.

as if having to admit defeat wasn’t enough, you’re met with a wall that sae managed to build up almost overnight - one that’s made of thick glass, so that it keeps him out of your needy reach, but allows him to stare down at you with a condemning glare, a glint of a smirk on his lips, as if saying see, i told you. you’ve tried just about every trick in the book to ignite the spark in the emerald orbs you’ve grown to love, but it’s all old news to him, it seems, and he doesn’t budge no matter how desperate your efforts are.

or so you think - just because sae doesn’t barge in right through the bathroom door upon hearing the muffled moans as you shower, doesn’t mean that the sound leaves him unbothered. your legs almost kick out involuntarily from the dopamine rush as you feel your walls squeeze at your fingers, orgasm rushing through every nerve and making you keen softly. sae, sae please - he can hear it all, and knows very well that it’s exactly what you wanted of him when you left the door ajar, inviting. he has to grab at the throbbing in his shorts, giving his cock a single squeeze to relieve at least a crumb of the pressure or otherwise, he just might lose his cool and give in to you. he exhales through his nose, the knees that can carry him through the whole field in a flash now feeling weak under his weight as he listens to your moans die down.

the heat doesn’t let up, even though it’s been two days already - the forecast says it should start moving north soon, finally give spain a moment to breathe - but sae’s stubborn, and you know that the tight knot that seems to tighten with each of his looks sent your way won’t come undone anytime soon.

oh, you have no idea how hard this miffed face you’ve put on makes him. he sees you trying, of course he does, the way you started wearing your tiniest cropped tops and some flimsy panties around the house - even though you both know that it’s easier to fight the heat when wearing loose clothing. but if you wore anything else, he wouldn’t have the view of your tits perking up as you stretch, sitting on the other end of the leather brown couch, the underside coming to view and luring him in to touch - and that he knows, too. he’s well aware that each and every time he groped and grabbed at the flesh of your bottom, he’s made it clear just how obsessed he was with the soft muscle there - and now you’re using it against him, as you bend over to reach for something under the sink. if only sae didn’t know just how much of a whore you could be, he’d think that the wet spot on your panties was just his vision playing games with him. but he knows, and yet it doesn’t make it any easier on him to not give up and submit to his need.

you can feel your eyelids grow heavy, struggling to keep your focus on the random movie you’ve put on the tv to kill the time. the sunlight seeps through the blinds, scolding at your heated skin as you shift, clammy skin sticking to the leather brown sofa. you hum softly, head tilting to the side as you hear sae stop by the back of the couch, peeking at the scene playing out on the flat screen. one warm hand rest on the crook of your neck, sending a surprised shiver right down your spine, and your eyes wearily flutter open as you feel sae’s fingers slowly snake around your throat. giving a few light taps to your jugular, he gives no effort into knocking the breath out of your lungs as his hand gently squeezes. you were nearly dozed off just seconds before, but now you’re back awake and alert, heart racing as you feel sae’s hand fully wrap around your neck - a whimper ripping from your throat, thighs rubbing against each other at the thought that this might just be it.

sae almost jolts at the quivering sound, pulling his hand away quickly, “oi,” he mumbles, fighting back a smirk as he notices your shoulders tremble. he got you good. “sorry. i thought you were asleep,” the hand comes back up to ruffle your hair. “won’t disturb you anymore.” and just like that, he’s already walking down the hall, soon disappearing into your bedroom, leaving behind a burn at your neck and a throb between your legs.

the all-time high hits a few hours later, when sae wakes from his afternoon nap and reluctantly gets off the bed, slides padding softly against the hardwood floors. he scratches at the back of his neck, heading to the kitchen to grab a cold drink,

“hey,” he’s greeted by your voice, sweet but hushed, as if the heat sucked all of your energy out and only left a shadow behind. (you’ve always been so soft when tired - it always made him press kisses to your reddened cheeks and just below your glassy eyes.) sae gives a small nod and notices the bright blue popsicle in your hand, eyes moving from the iced treat upwards, to your face - just in time as your tongue lolls out to take a long lick.

sucking a breath in, he forces a smile, “hm, you took the last one,” he notes, turning his back to you as he grabs a glass from the cupboard and fills it with tap water.

“yeah,” you hum, slurping, and sae feels his knees buckle.he keeps up his act, leaning back against the marble counter as you lock eyes. the juice is leaking down your fingers and you move to lick it off, a slow lap up your hand, “m’sorry, sae.” red starts to seep into his view, gaze zeroed on your tongue as it works around the tip of the lolly. “couldn’t help myself.” and then, it snaps.

you jump in your seat as sae slams the glass down on the table, and you want to knit your brows together and urge him to be careful - but seeing his restraints break makes your heart race and pussy throb. you are shameless, but it doesn’t matter anymore. not when it has him so feral, desperate to feel you. he doesn’t give you time to react - he’s known worldwide for his quick reflexes, after all - before he’s already pulling your hand away to the side and presses his hungry lips to yours.

you don’t have it in you to even joke about him making a mess as the popsicle falls to the floor from your hand, mouth full of his tongue as it licks at your cheeks and grazes along your teeth. it has you moaning, a lewd muffled sound, as sae quickly works on pushing his sweatshorts down. he breaks the kiss as he hears you struggle to breathe, a strong hand wrapping around your throat in a firm grip instead as it pushes you down. your head spins at the urgency of his movements and the grunt he lets out when your knees hit the floor.

“you’ve been actin’ like a real fucking whore,” he grabs at your jaw tightly instead, fingers digging into the flesh of your cheek and forcing your mouth agape. “you know that?” one would’ve thought that it’s embarrassing, the way he has you on your knees in a matter of minutes, tongue hanging out, saliva pooling at the tip - but to you, this feels right. your hands pull at the waistband of the grey sweats, tugging them down promptly and a groan rips from sae’s throat at the feeling of his cock springing free. you reach to wrap a hand around it, just below the reddened head, and flick your thumb over the beads of precum that already seep out the tip. you crane your head up to watch sae’s brows furrow at the initial rush of pleasure and keep your wide eyes right on his as finally, you lean in to get a taste.

reaching one hand behind him, he grips the edge of the dining table and leans against it, other hand trailing up from your neck to grab a fistful of hair. he twists the locks around, hearing you wheeze at the sudden surge of pain, and cuts your surprised sounds off by pushing his hips forward.

“ha-ah-” he gasps, eyes trained on your face and how the tears already start to cling to your lashes, “fuck- show me you’re sorry.” he grunts, shoulders rolling back before he adjusts the tight grip on your hair and pulls your face towards his abdomen. and if you didn’t feel sorry for teasing the fuck out of him yet, then you were surely regretting it now as he bullies his cock deep into your mouth, until your small hands grab at the back of his muscled thighs. “yeah, that’s it. take it.” you squeeze your eyes shut at the burn in the back of your throat, at the feeling of sae’s cock nearly rubbing up on your tonsils. it makes you gag, saliva spilling from the sides of your mouth already, and you feel rivulets of tears rush down your face as he pushes your head even further.

your nose presses against his abdomen, well trimmed and smelling of his shower gel and sweat. it turns your mind foggy and head dizzy - or is it the lack of oxygen? - as he starts thrusting, forcefully, other hand coming up to the back of your neck to gain better control of your movements. “you know tha- ah- that i hate fuckin’ brats,” your nails break the pale skin on sae’s thighs, crescent moons glowing bright pink as you grasp at the sturdy muscle. it’s starting to ring in your ears, and your neck cramps from sae’s grip. “and yet, you want to be one so badly.”

your hands scurry to grap at his legs, desperate as white dots start to sparkle across your jet black vision and yet, he stills his hips, so deep you can almost feel him in your guts. you know he adores the free use you let him have of you, and that he has his moment to pull out perfectly calculated, knowing your limits better than even you do. but, sometimes, you wonder if he’s going to push you even further, until your muscles grow limp, throat relaxes around his girth-

you heave and gasp at the sudden flow of air as sae abruptly pulls you off of him, hand flying up to clutch at your chest. there’s saliva pooling on the floor, a shameful image of filth that he forces from you each and every time, and from the corner of your eye you see sae step out of his shorts and kick them to the side.

“six,” he speaks, cutting through the spiraling the asphyxiation put you into. “that’s how many times you’ve lead me on.” you whimper as sae grabs you by the forearm, pulling your body up from the floor. he takes notice on how it already feels putty in his hands as he backs you up against the table and pushes at your heaving chest until your back hits the wood. standing between your spread legs, he waits - listens.

“i’m- ‘m sorry,” you hiccup, voice wet with tears as one of sae’s thighs presses right against your clothed heat. he clicks his tongue, feeling the dampness against his skin, and he crams his muscle against your pussy harder. “you were- you were teasin’ me, ‘n i needed you,” your hips stutter unwittingly, an attempt to spark some friction on your throbbing clit. sae notices, stoic eyes taking a short glimpse down to where you’re pressing up against him, before he focuses back on your pretty face.

“huh?” he fakes astonishment, fingers working to pull the thin material of your thong to the side, “i thought you didn’t want me? said somethin’ about the heat?” you gasp at the touch of his fingertips, the sensation turning your brain to mush, forcing quiet thankyouthankyouthankyou out of your mouth. keeping his stare on your expression, he places a thumb on your awaiting clit, and stills.

your back arches, a sob ripping through your chest, hand clutching at his wrist. “sae-”

“shh,” he hushes, slowly starting to rub precise circles, feeling the nub throb under his thumb. “you’re a lucky girl, you know that?” his other palm rests on one of your knees, slinging your leg to rest on his shoulder. your head smacks back against the table and you’re pretty sure sae’s change of pace is giving you whiplash as he presses a kiss to your ankle, right by the little charm adorning the gold chain he’s once bought you.

“only you can treat me like that and still deserve to be touched.” two fingers prod at your entrance, collecting the translucent cream that seeps out. you rest your forearm across your eyes, cheeks growing red as you can feel sae’s eyes zero in on your pussy, oozing with need. he dips a finger in, experimentally, watching out for a reaction as softly, he massages it against your front wall, barely two knuckles deep.

your body shivers, and sae wraps one arm around your leg, still resting against his chest to keep you from squirming. leaning down, he kisses you, mouth hot on yours as he drinks up every little gasp and keen as he works his fingers right against the sweetest spot he could find. pressing his palm flat on your clit, he picks up the speed, and you grab at his bicep with a breathy cry.

“gonna cum,” you blabber, but sae already feels it around his digits as they reach deeper, knuckles bending to kiss at the right spot. he hums - a quiet permission - with his fingers flexing on the flesh of your thigh as he holds you close through your high. he groans at the stuttering of your hips and squeezing of his walls on his fingers, so tight that he can barely move them to ride your high out, and rests his forehead on your collarbone. he feels, hears the translucent liquid spray against his palm as it rubs across your clit, grinds on it heavily. one of your hand is still holding onto his wrist, dainty fingers gripping on the bone as you squeal, the sensitivity making your nerves tingle.

sae eases his fingers out of you and he feels his cock throb at the sheen of your juices all over his hand - a tell tale sign of just how good he could make you feel - before he wraps it around his length, giving it a few firm pumps. you watch with half lidded eyes, saliva thick in your mouth as you try to pull your hips back. sae sends you a stern look, eyebrow raised, and you blush at the expression.

“wait a second,” you breathe, but feel sae’s cock slide between your folds anyway. with a low grunt, he grabs your other leg and puts it on it’s place on his shoulder.

“‘ve waited enough, i think,” he retorts, the fat, throbbing head catching on your sensitive clit and it makes him suck in a breath. you’re squirming underneath him, his hands on your hips not doing much in terms of keeping you still, but he’s just too focused on the warmth of your pussy across his length. you reach a hand down, fingers just barely wrapping around his cock as you guide it at your hole.

with just the slightest move forward of his hips, sae pushes right against the tight entrance, brows knit together as he bottoms out in a single motion - and his shoulders drop at the feeling, chest relaxing as if all the pent up tension had finally its’ outlet. your vision blurs as his hands move to your thigh and waist, creating just the perfect leverage to manhandle your body for his own pleasure., and you have to bite at the back of your hand to muffle your cries as sae sets a quick pace.

you’re incoherent as he strokes deep inside of you, hips smacking against the back of your thighs, heavy balls slapping on your ass. it sounds so fucking filthy, so borderline obscene, and yet, when you manage a glance at sae’s face, he looks so fucking tepid. you’ve seen this face before, usually on the big screen at the stadium as the camera zoomes in on his face as he handles the ball expertly. if there are two things that sae itoshi knows, it is soccer and fucking you dumb. he has his eyes trained on your pussy, at the creamy white ring that forms just at the base of his cock, and he grunts.

“you take me so well,” he breathes, one hand letting go of your thigh to smack across your ass. it leaves a handprint, a pretty pale pink that burns on your skin, a reminder of tonight to stay on your flesh for the next few days. he wraps one hand around your throat, palm pressing on your jugular as he leans forward, sturdy chest pressing right against your tits, barely covered by the skimpy top you’re still wearing. you struggle to catch a breath, but sae only watches with observant, sharp eyes; soaks in the fucked out expression drawn across your face.

“you gonna cum for me ‘gain?’ he asks, euphoria in every breath as he drives his hips against yours even harder. he reaches one his hands just below your bum, pushing it upwards, creating a new angle that allows him to thrust right against your favorite spot. it makes your eyes roll back, chest trembling with a sob as you nod your head quickly, urgently.

“please,” you whimper, and sae presses his forehead against yours.

he grunts, grip on your neck tightening as he braces himself to push into you harder, deeper. he feels his balls pull against his body, a shaky breath slipping past his parted lips, and he listens to the broken moans he’s forcing out of your abused throat.

sae isn’t at all surprised his ego reaches the highest of heights - not with his name all over every sports site, every magazine, stamped onto tens of trophies. not when he can get you to cry for him like that.

“ah- fucking hell-” he moans as he feels your pussy clamp down on his cock, a clear sign of your orgasm hitting you full force. your voice gets caught in your throat, but he can feel the tears sink into his hand as they stream down your face and jaw; he can feel your jittery hips against his, the pulsating of your walls on his throbbing, aching cock.

he feels the tight knot snap and with a deep groan, he bottoms out and stills his hips. white paints his vision as he breathes against your mouth heavily, pressing hot, messy kisses on your love bruised lips. you can’t feel your thighs anymore, the stretch of the mating press having exhausted them to their limit, but you still whimper when sae pushes even deeper. his cock kisses at your cervix, filling you right up to the brim, and you feel him shudder.

you move your hands to rub up his biceps, taut and strong as they hold him up, and moan out as he slowly pulls his hips back.

sae takes a proper breather, heart hammering still against his ribcage as he straightens himself. he lets go of your neck eventually, instead smoothing his hands up your hamstrings and calves, slowly easing your legs back down and to wrap around his hips. you look at his face and feel your tummy flutter at the fucked out expression, the way his already dull eyes has grown even darker and how the blush spilled across his cheeks. he notices your staring and smiles slightly, having caught his breath eventually.

“go clean up,” he sighs, giving your bottom a pat. “time to cool down.”

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reblogs are greatly appreciated ! :)

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anarchywoofwoof · 6 months

Text

yesterday, november 18 2023 was the first day in recorded history where the global 2m surface temperature exceeded 2 degrees Celsius above the 1850-1900 baseline.

the 1850-1900 period serves as a baseline for the intergovernmental panel on climate change (ipcc) primarily because it represents the pre-industrial era, just before the widespread industrialization that began in the late 19th century.

this era is important for understanding the effects of climate change because it provides a relatively stable reference point for the earth's climate system before human activities - particularly the burning of fossil fuels - began to significantly alter the composition of earth's atmosphere. therefore, this period offers some of the earliest reliable meteorological data, allowing scientists to establish a baseline climate against which current and future changes can be compared.

the last time it was close to this hot was +1.99°C above the baseline, on Feb. 28, 2016 during hottest part of El Nino

yesterday, the value was +2.01°C before the hottest part of El Nino.

the 2°C threshold is widely regarded as a critical limit beyond which climate change impacts become increasingly severe and potentially irreversible. this includes increasing extreme weather events, over time a 40~ foot sea-level rise, and massive loss of biodiversity. some of which we are seeing take place before our eyes right now, every single day. all of these headlines are from this year alone:

Ocean scientists concerned over uptick of whale deaths on Northeast coasts

Penguin Chicks Are Dying Off as Antarctic Sea Ice Disappears

More than 10 billion snow crabs starved to death off the coast of Alaska. But why?

Texas oysters in dire straits

Tens of Thousands of Dead Fish Wash Ashore on Gulf Coast in Texas

Drone footage shows millions of dead fish blanket river

Mass death of Amazonian dolphins prompts fears for vulnerable species

‘Crisis period': Dead or dying marine mammals increasingly washing up on SoCal beaches

bear in mind that this is because we're already seeing a near-average of 1.5°c warming this year. this was not expected until the year 2050. like.. it's happening now.

the 1.5°c warming threshold, which is often discussed alongside the 2°c threshold, holds its own significance in the context of climate change and the efforts to mitigate its impacts. this threshold was brought into prominence by the paris agreement, which aimed to limit global warming to well below 2°c, preferably to 1.5°c, compared to pre-industrial levels.

we have effectively blown past this barricade and are barreling toward another. the capitalist train is leaving the tracks and taking us with it.

#climate change #climate crisis #environment #biodviersity #ecology #conservation

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nyonyen · 2 months

Note

Nyon x reader

HEATWAVE

nyon x f!reader | AO3 | 18+ ᴛᴀɢs: cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, semi-public, tw celsius usage ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴇᴅ ʙʏ: this 4koma cap did lol

The midst of the July heat hit the Ivory household like a punch to the gut. With the sun blazing directly onto the dilapidated shingles of the roof, the minutes felt like hours. You lay on the kitchen floor, hoping that the inherently cooled tiles would provide some semblance of relief from this hell.

Luther and Nyen had ventured out into the swelter, braving it to find out what exactly was wrong with the HVAC. Meanwhile, Sebastian was busy crunching on ice upstairs while Randal yelled obscenities at him— it seemed as if all was perhaps normal.

You look up at the ceiling, never having noticed the various stains. As you pondered on whether or not all this chaos you had found yourself in was due to the possible prevalence of black mold, Nyon came into view. He stared down at you, wide-eyed as usual, taking in your disheveled appearance— you had donned what seemed only appropriate for this scorcher. Apparently, a tank top and shorts were something Nyon deemed ogle-worthy.

“Do you need something?” You asked, mildly perturbed at how his gaze had begun to make you sweat even more. “You’re, uh… blocking the fan.”

He quickly moves off to the side, allowing the oscillating contraption to blow that beautiful recirculated air into your face. Nyon hums, and kneels next to you on the tile, “You are hot, yes?”

You stifle a laugh at his phrasing, but nod, “Yes, incredibly. Are you? You’re still wearing that sweatshirt…”

“Yes, I am sweating buckets,” Nyon nods earnestly, as if you said something obvious, “Of course, it is my shirt. Why take it off?”

Sighing, you get up to his level, “Nyon, you have to take it off if you want to not sweat so much. It’s like… 40 degrees, you’ll get heat stroke.”

He shuffles away at this nervously, tied between the fear of succumbing to the weather and the fear of taking off his favorite shirt, “I don’t want to.”

“Don’t make me take it off for you,” you huff, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, but realizing the gravity of the situation. “Please?”

Nyon doesn’t relent, causing you to weigh the outcomes: either you don’t do it, and he keels over, with Luther getting upset with you, or you do it, and Nyon gets upset with you. Deciding that you’d rather not incur the wrath of the catman’s master, you begin to pull up the hem. He starts to sweat visibly now but doesn’t stop your movements.

Despite his not stopping you, he doesn’t exactly aid in your decision. You finally manage to pull the offending yellow item off of his head without catching it on his ears. Nyon looks away, embarrassed at the entirety of the situation, and you look away as well.

His breathing speeds up as you clear your throat, “Now, that's much better, isn't it?”

You can't help but finally bring your gaze back to him, and you're met with a few surprises: you hadn't realized that he was pretty fit, his hair seemed to perfectly match his chest hair, and he looked fantastic without a shirt on.

“Thank you,” he speaks softly, still flush, “I feel better somewhat, yes…”

Nyon meets your gaze, his lip trembling softly as he tries to say something more. His eyes dart around your body again, and you haven't the wherewithal to deny yourself that pleasure with him as well.

“You look so…” He whispers, almost to himself, “Like a model.”

“I could say the same to you,” you laugh, blush beginning to creep up your neck again.

Nyon leans towards you slightly, and maybe it’s the stupor of the heat, but you find yourself closing the distance between you two. The slightest of whimpers emanates from his throat as you kiss, and he quickly returns it— just as desperately. Neither of you understands it, but the warmth that seemed so frustrating just a moment prior is now just a backdrop for this newfound passion.

Your tongue darts all over his bottom lip, and Nyon quickly parts them— allowing you to taste him for the first time. The joint he had an hour or so ago lingered on his tongue, a scent you were already so used to because of him. You relished in the familiarity as his tongue entered your mouth as well. It explores your mouth, memorizing every aspect as his shaky hands move to grab your shoulders. He anchors himself with this as he begins to suck on your tongue, causing you to moan in delight.

The two of you separate, chests heaving in tandem, eyes lidded and wild. With no words exchanged, Nyon leans down to kiss at your jawline. Moving further down, he lapped at your neck sweetly, savoring the salty taste of your sweat as you trembled in his embrace. He hums quietly, something almost like a purr as you rake your fingers down his chest.

“Nyon,” you whisper, feeling the knot in your stomach becoming increasingly uncomfortable, “Need you, please…”

He paused in his licks, pulling back to look at you with lidded eyes. With a simple nod, he pulls your tank top off, now reveling in your newly exposed breasts. Nyon paws at them, thanking the powers that be that there was no bra in the same for him to have to mess with.

Neither of you seemed to care that you were in the middle of the Ivory’s kitchen, defining the tile floor Luther so lovingly mops every day.

Sucking frantic hickies into your glistening skin, he fumbles with the hem of your shorts— it was so hard to multitask with your chest in his face and mouth. You help him by quickly kicking them off, leaving you bare, minus your panties.

Pulling back from your body, you can fully take in Nyon’s disheveled appearance. His ears were all lopsided, and his so-called whiskers were smeared. His chest heaves as he takes in your appearance as well, “So beautiful… please?”

You don't know exactly what he's pleading for, but you get the gist of it when you nod and he begins to kiss down your abdomen. His nips and bites felt like heaven, and you could barely hold back your noises of pleasure as he finally began to toy with your hemline.

Momentarily looking up at you, perhaps for permission, you only give him one look that has him pulling your panties to the side. Nyon hums happily as he takes in your scent, practically nuzzling against your arousal— before finally beginning to lick. His tongue licks up a wide stripe, from your entrance to your clit, and you shudder.

Your hand goes to grab at his bluish hair, pulling ever so slightly. He mewls at this, his ministrations speeding up as he revels in your attention and satisfaction.

“Fuck, Nyon!” you moan, trying to keep your voice down despite everything. “You're doing so good, oh…”

His throat, yet again, rumbled with a purr as you praised him, and his movements never ceased. He sucks at your clit, timing it with his incessant licks at your entrance, and you feel yourself inching toward that familiar precipice. Feeling your increased excitement, Nyon reaches a hand up to grasp at your chest, kneading along with the pace he’s set for you. His other hand’s index and middle fingers began to tease— you had no idea how one man could be so coordinated. He enters you, curling as he goes, causing your head to loll back even further.

“Oh, please, please…”

Your mantra of pleadings was like music to his ears, and he couldn’t help but grin as he rolled his tongue against your clit in his mouth. Nyon’s hand that was pawing your chest blindly reached down to hold one of your legs apart, keeping you from subconsciously denying yourself the release he needed you to have.

“Let go,” he pants, leaving your warmth only for a second, “Let go for me.”

His words may have fallen upon deaf ears, but your body felt them nonetheless. Your eyes shut tightly, feeling every sensation he was giving you, and a white-hot pleasure shot through your system. Nyon continued to paw and suck at you through your orgasm, not once stopping for his own comfort. Your hips rocked against his face and fingers, and he practically nuzzled against you.

As your breathing calmed, his fingers left your warmth slowly. He kissed where your hips met your thighs, whispering things only he could hear. The slight sheen that coated both your bodies suddenly felt cool after everything, and you couldn’t help but giggle tiredly. Nyon smiles and begins to lap all of your wetness up.

#nyon ranfren x reader #nyon catman x reader #nyon x reader #ranfren x reader #✎

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wonders-of-the-cosmos · 1 year

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NASA’s Webb Spots Swirling, Gritty Clouds on Remote Planet

Researchers observing with NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope have pinpointed silicate cloud features in a distant planet’s atmosphere. The atmosphere is constantly rising, mixing, and moving during its 22-hour day, bringing hotter material up and pushing colder material down. The resulting brightness changes are so dramatic that it is the most variable planetary-mass object known to date. The team, led by Brittany Miles of the University of Arizona, also made extraordinarily clear detections of water, methane and carbon monoxide with Webb’s data, and found evidence of carbon dioxide. This is the largest number of molecules ever identified all at once on a planet outside our solar system.

Cataloged as VHS 1256 b, the planet is about 40 light-years away and orbits not one, but two stars over a 10,000-year period. “VHS 1256 b is about four times farther from its stars than Pluto is from our Sun, which makes it a great target for Webb,” Miles said. “That means the planet’s light is not mixed with light from its stars.” Higher up in its atmosphere, where the silicate clouds are churning, temperatures reach a scorching 1,500 degrees Fahrenheit (830 degrees Celsius).

Credit: NASA

#nasa #jwst #astronomy #astronomia #space #espaço

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leftduck9986 · 5 months

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The Whickber Street Bees and Their Queen

Hello Tumblr! Testing, 1,2,3. Making the leap from Reddit, with thanks, to Kimberleyjean.

I understand that by now it should go without saying, however, it is with due diligence that I make sure to say, DO NOT ASK OR TAG NEIL GAIMAN IN FAN THEORY.

To begin, a look at the tv and book quotes re Bees -

S2E6, Crowley to Muriel: "Angels are like bees. Fiercely protective of their hive if you're trying to get inside. Once you're in, well, I mean … is it even faintly possible that an unauthorised demon might be just wandering around in Heaven un-escorted? (…)"

Originally, in the book, it's humans:

Sometimes human beings are very much like bees. Bees are fiercely protective of their hive, provided you are outside it. Once you’re in, the workers sort of assume that it must have been cleared by management and take no notice; various freeloading insects have evolved a mellifluous existence because of this very fact. Humans act the same way.

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There was a scorcher of a summer day a few weeks ago, 40 degrees Celsius outside! After spending the day keeping as still as possible, I had a nice cool shower in the evening, unfortunately it was right before the southerly arrived and with it the 90% humidity! Already sweating more than during the day, I was not a happy bee! 'Twas a thought that got the ball rolling and I began with having a bit of fun mulling over and re-working the bee quotes:

Humans are like bees - they don't like getting w- well, let's say instead that they don't like getting their clothes wet! So humans will shelter under an awning if there is one, or whip out the brolly.

Yeah, okay … … the brain eventually latched onto something to expand upon:

There's also the protective nature and strength-in-numbers aspect that has me hopeful there are plenty of good "bees" on Whickber Street, part of The Ineffable Plan.

And what do bees/humans do when they recognise ROYALTY?

(No research done at all for this - I'm only thinking of that scene in the movie, Jupiter Ascending, where Mila Kunis' character is surrounded by bees. Some fun for anyone who likes to make Good Omens memes?)

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S2E1 "Present Day" begins with a great sweeping shot of London from above, moving into Soho (as in the soundtrack) and seeing the flow of movement from this view - the imagery - suggests to me, that:

The Bookshop is the hive;

Immediately outside, a circling ring of Whickber Street "Bees";

The next level out, cars that are circling the block;

The arrival of others - two cars with boots open, behind which are the parked scooter and motorcycle and directly behind that, a street booth with, seated inside, three (or more?) potential persons of interest;

The outermost ring of pedestrians on the opposite side of the road, (often crossing back over from the street trader stalls and circling back past the pub throughout the season).

It's the busiest activity - for the show, not irl for Soho from what I've seen reading other discussions - but would suggest that while it's sunny and relatively dry, this is a normal day of buzzing about (or is it?).

Until Gabriel's arrival.

What we're shown of his journey to the bookshop is very short - a mere two blocks - less than that - for the traffic to come to a stop so quickly, pulling over to the sides and for the pedestrians to crowd the footpaths, so as to allow for a clear walkway for Gabriel down the middle of the street. No one yells at the naked man to get out of the street, nor does anyone offer to help him to the footpath. Not one person asked the naked man where he was headed, so that they might offer him directions.

They block off access beyond the bookshop on both sides, by filling in the spaces between cars; others close in from behind Gabriel, herding/shepherding so that he won't be inclined to double back.

It seems to be a well-coordinated effort. An assisted delivery!

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Gabriel ("Me" pre-"Jim") tells Aziraphale, "… my arms were aching 'cause I had to carry that box for so long (…)" - not because it was heavy, but, you know, holding one's arms in the same position with a bit of static tension for anything upwards of a few minutes is bound to make one's biceps burrrrn.

Headcannon (hc): the cardboard box contains only the fly, but the fly had "the thing" from Heaven and now contains Gabriel's memories. Not currently on board with the idea of a detour to drop off "the thing" elsewhere - more leaning towards Gabriel getting off the lift one stop too early or too late (if he ended up pressing the lift button to Hell as well), maybe taking the stairs for the rest of the way to Earth, or emerging from the same unseen place that Saraqael, Uriel and Michael did in episode 2.

Gabriel still somehow remembers just enough to get himself straight to Aziraphale. Then, during their conversation in the bookshop does he become increasingly forgetful and distracted, but not before revealing some key information:

Aziraphale: "Then… why did you come to my shop?"

Gabriel: "I don't know. I just thought I should.

You know what it's like when you don't know anything at all, and yet you're totally certain that everything would be better if you were just near one particular person?"

(…)

"Anyway, that's how I felt that so long as I came here the Something Terrible might not happen to me."

(…)

Aziraphale: "Please, tell me about the Something Terrible."

Gabriel: "(…) I just know that it's incredibly awful and that that's why I had to come here and give you the thing."

I'm understanding that:

one particular person = Beelzebub (but only in hindsight - I did initially think Gabriel meant Aziraphale the very first time viewing);

the Something Terrible = mind erasure: identity, precious memories of Beelzebub, fellow angels (suspecting that he feels something greater than workplace rapport for them) and knowledge of this very important thing for work, that needs to be given to Aziraphale in case of an emergency;

the thing = not necessarily the same item as "the angle", which could also be inside the fly. The thing, possibly being the real reason he is being ineffably assisted to the bookshop.

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It may or may not be so with bees, but humans respectfully make way for royalty (or the higher-ups, or - thinking of Shax speed-walking through Hell - the incredibly intimidating. Both.)

Anyway, these "bees" of Whickber Street are either excellent everyday people who don't crowd across intersections and if they see a person in the street, will pull their cars over to the sides, for the person's safety, but will also be jerks and whip out their smart phones to film and photograph a naked man without actually being helpful - well, hang on, are they really filming?

A moment to talk about the prop phones: There's one shot (14min30-34sec) where we can see that the phones don't even have active screens - and one person who really wanted their face shown on camera! (reflected in their prop phone). If these were modern day human people with real smart phones, how quickly would "naked man in Soho" grow to trend on social media? How earthly/native are the fellow Angelic Beings Who Walk The Earth - do any of them (or demons more likely, come to think of it) keep up with internet "news"? Entertaining for a moment, the thought of the inactive screens being more to do with divine intervention in order to protect Gabriel's identity and location, what about the one person who is actually using their phone AS A PHONE?

Presenting: Earth's contact to the Coordinator of the operation, Escort the Queen to the Hive:

[placeholder name] "Mary" as per this hc: her son, passing through Soho, stands to her right, his own frame of negative space to make him stand out, his hand almost permanently glued to his face for the rest of the scene!!! His Significant Other, who will stay with his parents for the next week or so, is hanging out with his Dad down the road, being all shepherd-like with the other bees behind Gabriel.

Notice how, "Mary" is on the phone with someone, not (visibly) speaking, just listening. Then she and her son (as per the above hc) have front row 'seats' (standing room only) to the show behind Gabriel. Her hand holding the phone falters upward when it seems that Gabriel has been denied entry to the bookshop, but then once he's been reluctantly invited in, "Mary" is the first to leave the scene, signalling to everyone to resume their usual buzzing about, as if to say, "he's in. Aaaaaaand we out!"

So, The Whickber Street "Bees" - are they mostly humans, just being human, but for some inexplicable - ineffable - reason, their phones weren't quite able to capture a clear image of the naked man? I'm leaning more towards it being choreographed, miracle-wise.

And who is the coordinator of operation, Escort the Queen to the Hive? Currently thinking that it's the same 'person' who sent Gabriel the thing in the cardboard box. As to who that could be - a few come to mind.

Thank you so much for reading,

See you in the new year!

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DO NOT ASK OR TAG NEIL GAIMAN IN FAN THEORY

#good omens 2 #good omens 2 theory #good omens 2 meta #good omens 2 Whickber street background extras #good omens 2 cardboard box #good omens 2 bees

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probablyasocialecologist · 8 months

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If global warming reaches or exceeds two degrees Celsius by 2100, University of Western Ontario's Joshua Pearce says it is likely that mainly richer humans will be responsible for the death of roughly one billion mainly poorer humans over the next century. The oil and gas industry, which includes many of the most profitable and powerful businesses in the world, is directly and indirectly responsible for more than 40% of carbon emissions—impacting the lives of billions of people, many living in the world's most remote and low-resourced communities. A new study proposes aggressive energy policies that would enable immediate and substantive decreases to carbon emissions and recommends a heightened level of government, corporate and citizen action to accelerate the decarbonization of the global economy, aiming to minimize the number of projected human deaths. "Such mass death is clearly unacceptable. It's pretty scary really, especially for our children," said Pearce, Western's John M. Thompson Chair in Information Technology and Innovation and lead author of the study. "When climate scientists run their models and then report on them, everybody leans toward being conservative, because no one wants to sound like Doctor Doom. We've done that here too and it still doesn't look good."

#climate change #global warming #degrowth #not great lads

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penny-anna · 7 months

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discovered a little while ago that the entire time i've lived in this flat (about 2 years) the washing machine has only been 50% functional. it's supposed to be hooked up to the hot water supply but there was nowhere to attach it so whoever installed it just didn't bother and as a result it can only wash with cold water. i just never noticed bcos i only ever use the cool cycle.

anyway as an oblique consequence of my eye problems having got worse, my laundry bin went mouldy* which is the kind of thing you need a hot cycle to deal with** and im still waiting on a permanent fix for my washing machine. theoretically i could go over to my new flat and wash it there in the (presumably) fully functional washing machine but idk if I'll have time for that before the weekend and I think someone is coming to fix or replace mine on Saturday anyway. or maybe just coming to quote? unclear.

just now occurred to me that the cool cycle might not work properly either so my clothes might just not have been washed properly in like 2 years. when you wash your clothes at 40 degrees (celsius) are they supposed to feel warm after? it's been so long since I used a different machine i don't remember. ETA: ok i just googled this and yes it's supposed to come out cold but i don't actually know if it gets warm at any point unfortunately.

anyway i have put the skin off my laundry bin in a bucket with some bleach overnight to see if that helps. not hopeful i think when this has happened in the past i've ended up replacing it.

(*dry eyes -> lots of warm compresses w wet washclothes -> too lazy to hang washclothes out to dry before tossing them in the laundry -> wet stuff in the laundry bin -> mould)

(** it's a similar design to this. the fabric part is detachable & machine washable:

)

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shittysawtraps · 1 year

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Hello, old Facebook user. You seemingly believe that the only effect of climate change is longer and more pleasant summers and shorter, milder winters, and you make sure to echo those sentiments every time you see climate-related news as well as when your grandchild expresses worry over the future.

You are now locked in a house that retains heat with no AC. It is 40 degrees Celsius outside. The only person who knows of your whereabouts is your grandchild. They also know that they have a hefty sum waiting for them in your will.

Let's see how much you enjoy the heat, will you now?

#shitty saw traps #submission

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yellobb · 4 months

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Y’all I just found out about the 1904 Olympics marathon and I am losing my mind over how batshit insane it was. Buckle up y’all because this is one hell of a story

For some historical context, the 1904 Olympics were held in St. Louis and it was the first Olympics hosted in the U.S. It was paired up with the 1904 World’s Fair, so there was a hell of a lot going on in the city at the time

First, let’s meet some of our contestants:

American Thomas Hicks and four other Americans were all experienced marathoners

American Fred Lorz, who was able to compete after placing in a “special five mile race” sponsored by the Amateur Athletic Association. He did all his training at night

Ten Greeks who had never run a marathon before

Two South African men from the Tsuana tribe who were in St. Louis as part of the World’s Fair. They were apparently the first black Africans to compete in the Olympics, which is super cool. Less cool was the fact that they weren’t wearing any shoes

Cuban Félix Carbajal, a 5ft (1.5m) tall man who had fundraised his journey to the Olympics. This man got to New Orleans, lost all his money on a dice game, then had to walk and hitchhike his way to St. Louis. Mind you, that is almost 700 miles. He shows up to the race, having not eaten in 40 hours, dressed like THIS:

This man gets another bullet point because apparently his trousers were all the way down to his boots when he got there. Another Olympian took pity on him and cut them with scissors

Now for the race itself. It is in the 90s (32 degrees Celsius) and humid. For some god awful reason, they decided to start the race at 3pm, so it’s the hottest part of the day. The course is only 24.85 miles (40km) long instead of a standard 26.2, but that doesn’t mean this was an easier race. On the fucking contrary, it was hellish. I’ll let the Smithsonian article about this explain it because they do it much better than I ever could:

Now, I’ve never ran a marathon before, but I looked it up and the current recommendation is that water stations are placed every two miles.

The race is a go and things are off to a nasty start. American William Garcia almost becomes the first fatality of an Olympic event because he inhaled so much dust that his stomach was hemorrhaging. He was found unconscious by the side of the road by a local couple and had to be hospitalized. Apparently he would have bled to death if he’d been left for an hour longer.

But the dust isn’t the only issue. Apparently, Len Taunyane, one of our South African participants, gets chased a mile off course by wild dogs. He still placed 9th.

Probably my favorite participant is our boy Félix. Félix was stopping to chat with spectators in the middle of an Olympic race. At one point he stopped a car because he saw that the riders were eating peaches and asked if he could have some. They refused, but he snatched two anyway and ate them while he ran. He later came across an orchard and stopped to eat some apples, but apparently the apples were rotten, so he got stomach cramps and took a nap. HE STILL GOT FOURTH PLACE. That’s how much of a shitshow this race was, and we’re not even done.

Fred Lorz starts getting cramps around the 9-mile mark and decides to hitch a ride with one of the cars that is guiding them. He’d been leading the charge for a while and was a crowd favorite to win.

The other leader of the pack and favorite to win, Thomas Hicks, started having to use a support crew at the 10-mile mark. He was begging them for water, but they refused. He somehow managed to keep trucking along, though.

Seven miles from the finish line, Hicks’ handlers started feeding him egg whites mixed with strychnine, which is literally rat poison. There were literally no rules against performance-enhancing drugs yet, so this was apparently above-board.

Lorz gets out of the car he was riding in after 11 miles and just,,,, kept running????? He finished the race and was declared the winner. He was about to be given a gold medal when “someone called an indignant halt to the proceedings with the charge that Lorz was an imposter.” Lorz claimed it was all a joke and that he wouldn’t have actually accepted the award, but was still banned from competing in future marathons. That is, of course, until this decision was overturned in time for him to run in and win the Boston Marathon the next year.

Now Hicks had seen Lorz pass by. He was not doing too hot at all, but finding out that Lorz had been disqualified and he was still in the lead helped his motivation. He was given another dose of egg whites and strychnine with some brandy to wash it down, which, sure. Why the fuck not at this point?

At this point, he began to hallucinate. He started to believe that he had 20 more miles left to go instead of just two. He kept begging for food and rest, but his handlers just gave him more brandy and two more egg whites because of course he was. By the time he made it to the finish line, he was literally being carried by his handlers while his feet shuffled, but that was apparently good enough and he was declared the winner.

It took four doctors and a full hour for Hicks to recover enough to even leave the area after the race. He apparently lost eight fucking pounds during the course of the race. Hicks pretty much retired from racing after that (I wonder why) and became a professional clown, which really is just the cherry on top

Of the 32 people who competed in the race, only 14 finished. After everything, they literally almost removed the marathon as an Olympic event because it was deemed “indefensible on any ground but historic,” and honestly? After reading all that fuckery, I can’t even blame them.

Another note about Félix, because this man baffles me: apparently he was sponsored by the Greek government to compete in a 1906 marathon in Athens, but he never turned up. Newspapers in Cuba claimed he died, but he just??? Showed up a year later in Havana perfectly fine. Turns out he managed to get the date of the marathon wrong.

Sources:

#m rambles #long post #history #Olympics #st. louis #circa 1904 #the more you know #I just needed to share this with you all #I almost just linked the articles I read but I felt impassioned to type everything out #what a wild ride

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