Shout-out to all the sluts in Doctor Who
Shout-out to Jack Harkness, omnisexual space hero, who shags his way across the universe and falls madly in love with everyone, and tries to be a good dad, and respects Ianto’s jealousy, and who got fucked right on everyone’s screens in Miracle Day.
Shout-out to Benny Summerfield, who’s an amazing mom, who picks up a guy-of-the-week with remarkably frequency, who always chooses the wrong men, who got properly sloshed with the Master once just because he had good booze and a charming smile, who tackled the Doctor to her bed with a kiss just for the heck of it, who fell in love with a Dalek, and who fought her way through sexual trauma over and over again and always came out stronger.
Shout-out to Ram Singh, who celebrates life and friendship through sex, who loves so deeply, who carries condoms just in case, who talks openly about sleeping around, who values consent and warmth and comfort and honesty.
Shout-out to the Eighth Doctor, who greets his friends with a kiss, who has no nudity taboo, who’s Sam’s very own back-rub slut, who makes everyone fall in love with him just by being who he is, and who probably shagged an entire planetary ecosystem that one time.
Shout-out to Fitz Kreiner, who’s learning about consent, who can’t stop pretending to be literally anyone else but himself, who gets distracted from being chased down the side of a volcano by giant talking owls while riding a purple sparkle pony because he’s too busy thinking about getting laid by Iris and the Doctor, who nearly got his tongue caught on Sam’s piercing, who falls in love when he shouldn’t, and who’s had his heart broken way too many times.
Shout-out to Iris Wildthyme, and all her wonderful unabashed sluttery.
Shout-out to River Song, and her husbands, and her wives, and her sheer audacity, and her celebration of her body, and her sexual confidence in the face of severe childhood abuse.
Shout-out to Owen Harper, who’s beyond caring about consent, who fucks up, who gets fucked up, who learns and grows and becomes a marginally better sort of person after all — by which time it’s too late.
Shout-out to Lover, who uses all her assets as a humanoid TARDIS to seduce, and to please, and to procreate, and to explore life in all its dimensions.
Shout-out to Cousin Porsena, the kinky bastard.
Shout-out to the Ninth Doctor, who flirts, who kisses, who gets kissed, who dances, who geeks out over future humankind’s rampant interspecies shagging, and who’s slowly remembering how to connect to the world around him once more.
Shout-out to Ace McShane, who’s not a little girl anymore, who lost her virginity to the wrong man, who met many more wrong men in the years that followed, who uses her sexuality for her own goals, and who once loved Henry Noone.
Shout-out to Robert Scarratt, and all the rumours that surround him, and his continued efforts to scandalise Gallifreyan society simply by existing.
Shout-out to Compassion, who’s asexual, whose kisses are calculated and performative and tactical and brilliant, whose seduction skills are masterfully faked, and who uses people’s sexuality against them when she can.
Shout-out to Charley Pollard, who went to an orgy once (and didn’t stay).
Shout-out to all the other beautiful sluts on this show.