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hedgehog-moss · 1 year

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(TW POLICE VIOLENCE)

France has been feeling like a police state this week, there were 5000 cops deployed in Paris yesterday (watch this video and tell me this is a normal amount of cops and they're behaving normally) and they keep acting like they have total immunity*, to beat up protesters, to arrest protesters, or just random people walking in the vicinity of a protest. My 70+-year-old dad tried to go to a peaceful protest and had to abandon the idea because of all the tear gas being used by police.

*Which they do—as Le Monde pointed out, the cops who are violent risk nothing because they can't be identified because almost none of them wear their identification number even though it's supposed to be mandatory. They're not being penalised for not wearing them, so why should they?

If you can stomach it, please have a look at the photos and videos on this Twitter account documenting French police brutality against protesters—as I write this, the most recent tweet is about a journalist who was beaten up by a BRAV-M cop* using his steel baton; he had his head cracked open and his hand broken.

(* BRAV-M is a motorised repression corps—cops on bikes—a unit that was dissolved in 1986 after some of them beat a student to death, who wasn't even attending a protest but walking near one. Macron changed the unit's name, from Voltigeurs to BRAV-M, and reestablished it to suppress the Yellow Vests protests. This week, a BRAV-M cop deliberately drove over a 19-year-old's leg at a protest after chasing him on his bike. The victim said he heard a cop say to others "Smash him." Another BRAV-M punched a protester unconscious on March 20. And today Le Monde published an article about BRAV-M cops being recorded bragging about "breaking elbows and faces.")

In Paris last week the CRS arrested a 14-year-old kid because they took him for a dangerous black bloc protester I guess?? A child spent a night in police custody without knowing why. They've also arrested several 15 / 16 year-olds. Let's teach the youth what happens when you exercise your right to protest!

On March 16th in Paris, within one evening, they arrested 292 people, and 283 were released without charges, which means they're mass-arresting people for peaceful protests as a strategy of intimidation. The student I mentioned in my post the other day, who spent 48 hours in custody and was eventually charged for refusing to have his DNA samples taken and filed, asked the cops why they were arresting him + 4 other people who were walking down the same street and they said "Because you look like fucking leftists."

The government tells us "We fully support our brave police forces" when the cops are arresting people for "looking like leftists." How are we still a democracy? The guy also mentioned that during the time he spent at the police station, the police was mostly arresting Maghrebis, though they made an exception for him, a Black guy. There are videos from the past week of cops beating up women, tear gassing protesters in the face from 20cm away, kicking protesters in the face when they're already on the ground, crushing their heads under their boot, brutalising a homeless man and old ladies, tear gassing crowds with young children in them. I'm having trouble finding links to these specific incidents I remember because there are so many videos circulating.

Look at this video, they're violently striking the back of people's heads with steel batons even when the protesters are already going in the direction they're told to. The little old lady shoved around and trying to protect her head from the strikes is breaking my heart.

Surely at the point when enforcers of state authority are arresting middle schoolers, beating up citizens for exercising their rights and gassing and pepper spraying elderly people, children and babies in strollers, the government might want to make some sort of statement condemning this state of affairs, but instead they have been telling us they're proud of & grateful for their police forces, which of course angers people and makes protests more violent. The Minister of the Interior, who supervises the police, praises them wholeheartedly and excuses all instances of deliberate brutality as 'isolated incidents' due to 'tiredness'.

Here's a thread in English describing a protester's experience—"Yesterday (March 23) the level of arbitrary police violence clearly leveled up. I was tear gassed three times without being able to move in a very dense crowd; policemen took advantage that people were unable to move more than 20cm to pounce on us and bludgeon us in a totally arbitrary manner." (you can see an example of this behaviour in this video from a different protest)

Yesterday, after a day of nationwide protests that brought a fresh new wave of video evidence of cops beating up protesters and making reckless use of tear gas—at the end of a day when a special ed teacher at a protest got her thumb torn off by a tear gas grenade—this is what the French Prime Minister said:

They're not even trying to play it off like "both sides made mistakes" they're telling us they condone everything the police is doing, that this is what they're deploying them for:

(screencap from this video)

(this is from this video, in which you can hear a woman screaming "Stop it! You're strangling him! You have no right! I'm filming you!" The cops don't seem to care about being filmed. They're beating up citizens with the government's full blessing after all.)

Macron's government is trying to intimidate people into giving up their right to protest, by deploying cops in huge numbers and publicly voicing complete support for their behaviour, by allowing them to beat and arrest hundreds of people and to use tear gas indiscriminately. Tear gas has been completely normalised as a means of state violence, it's very practical that it doesn't leave traces of blood or broken bones I guess, but it's still violence, it burns, it's a chemical whose effects on people's health we don't know a lot about.

^ Paris (from this vid; caption: "one tear gas grenade after the other")

Macron condescendingly told us there's no "magic money" which is why the pension reform is needed, but he did find the money to stockpile these apparently unlimited amounts of tear gas grenades to suppress protests against his reform to make poor people work longer.

^ Nantes (screencap from a vid in which the cops throw three or four grenades at once and you can hear people say "oh come on, seriously? this is crazy. Why? go fuck yourselves" in a tired tone)

We've also found out yesterday that three Corsican MPs were pressured not to support the Assembly's no-confidence vote against the government—by being told if they didn't vote it, a teaching hospital would be built in Corsica.

The island of Corsica is the only region of France that doesn't have a teaching hospital; due to lack of medical resources Corsicans often have to travel to mainland France for healthcare. Just last month the Minister of Health said sorry, still no teaching hospital for Corsica, it's just not possible right now. Then last week some "magic money" was apparently found to build it but only if the Corsican MPs didn't support the no-confidence vote. I know this kind of thing isn't exactly unique in politics but Macron has been slashing hospital budgets to the point that 20% of French hospital beds are closed due to lack of staff, and he used the health of 340,000 French citizens as a bribe to save his ass. The three Corsican MPs ended up voting in favour of the no-confidence vote despite of that, as it was what their constituents wanted (honour to them). Macron's government survived the no-confidence vote by only 9 votes.

Whatever legitimacy Macron has as a President right now is being clung to by MP corruption and police repression. How do we move forwards knowing that, I don't know. How does he have legitimacy to govern on any issues after the way he handled this reform and the following protests? His police forces are drowning city centres in tear gas, a chemical whose effect on birds and other fauna is not known, and we're supposed to listen to him talk about the environment? They're wasting thousands of litres of water using water cannons to disperse protesters, and we're supposed to listen to him talk about low groundwater levels and how we need to save water? I was going to say, what about his legitimacy abroad but other Western governments don't seem too bothered so far by his handling of the protests—though I'm grateful that Amnesty International did condemn it, and that a Belgian deputy made a speech in Parliament this week asking his government to condemn Macron's use of violent police repression.

[Wait, I just saw that as I was writing this post, the Council of Europe condemned the "excessive use of force" in France. Saying that 'sporadic acts of violence' of some protesters can't 'justify the excessive use of force by agents of the State' or 'deprive peaceful protesters of their right to freedom of assembly'. This is the opposite framing as the one our government is standing by—sporadic acts of violence by cops that are either justified or excusable—it's refreshing.]

Between that and Charles III cancelling his visit (and lots of tourists cancelling trips to Paris which is bound to piss off the tourism industry) and our own media waking up and starting to talk about the government's brutality, I hope Macron starts being held accountable. He has been fanning the flames of this crisis at every turn, by telling us that the crowds protesting in the street have 'no legitimacy', by sending cops to break strikes even though striking is a Constitutional right (but the only part of the Constitution he cares about is the one that starts with 49.3), by condemning the protesters when asked to condemn police violence—saying "When [protesters] use violence, unregulated, absolute, we're no longer in a Republic." I agree, but he's describing himself.

When you resort to using article 49.3 to bypass the National Assembly for the 11th time this term to impose a reform that 70% of the country is against (and 93% of working people) that will force the poorer classes of the population to work longer, and your only response to people's distress at being told to work until they die is to force them to accept it by allowing your police forces to beat up protesters, to arrest them and to gas them, you have failed as a democratic leader.

The next organised protest and strike is next Tuesday (if you want to give something to the strike solidarity fund, here it is); in the meantime spontaneous protests are still erupting pretty much every day and cops are getting burnt out (good! There are fun videos from yesterday's protests of cops accidentally tear gassing one another, or a police car accidentally running into another as people laugh and clap.) And yes some protesters are getting more extreme and destructive, but Macron is the one choosing to stand by his reform at all costs and let this country burn. And when I look at what we're being expected to tolerate and to normalise, I'm kind of proud that French people's gut reaction was "burn it all."

Some popular Twitter hashtags for the protests:

#ToutCramer - Burn everything #CensurePopulaire - People's no-confidence vote #MacronDémission - Macron resign #OnLâcheRien - We won't cede an inch.

#frpol #i know french people who aren't following this closely aren't aware of how bad things got #as i said our media is finally commenting on CRS and BRAV-M behaviour but seeing the videos #for the protests is kind of necessary i feel to see how omnipotent the police feel thanks to macron #his ''fuck you i've already passed the reform idgaf about your protests'' attitude in the face of all this is unforgiveable #even if he somehow sees the light it won't erase all the violence and destruction that he caused #and that he doesn't care about #not to mention the damage done to democracy

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cheesecakethots · 7 months

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Part 2

Your mother had described meeting her soulmate, your father, as the most influential moment of her entire life, despite the fact it had been so ordinary.

They had simply been passing each other in a busy marketplace, and happened to brush hands. The static and pull they both felt only meant one thing, and the rest was history.

Your siblings met their soulmates before you, your older brother even having met his as a young child. Maybe that’s why you were chosen, and not them. Maybe that’s why they didn’t fight for you, after all.

The village you live in had a harsh winter, with no crops being able to grow and people starting to freeze to death in their own homes. You had known the village leaders were the superstitious type, but you almost scoffed aloud when they declared the hardships faced must’ve been the work of a vengeful spirit or yokai.

You had been woken up when some of them dragged you out of bed, still in your flimsy old nightgown that did nothing to protect you from the frosty bite to the wind. Your father didn’t intervene, didn’t cry, didn’t do anything as he watched them carry you away. Your mother had broken into sobs when you screamed at her to save you, but still did nothing. Your siblings didn’t even bother to leave their rooms to watch you be hauled off like some livestock on route to a chopping block.

The woods were long and hard to traverse, but it wasn’t long before they had taken you to the centre, using old and frayed rope to tie you by the waist to a thick tree trunk. They didn’t turn back when leaving, didn’t so much as spare you a glance while you screamed and screamed and screamed.

You stopped after ten minutes, instead allowing yourself to cry silently, hoping that you would wake up soon with your parents ready to comfort you, your siblings waiting to laugh off your silly nightmare. No such thing happened.

It’s been about half an hour now. Maybe less. Maybe more. You’re certain at this point that no hungry spirit is going to find you, and instead you’re going to die a slow, cold death, all alone. Well, maybe not slow.

You don’t hear the soft crunches of snow in front of you, too busy staring at your own feet that are starting to go blue.

“Hm, what do we have here?”

Your eyes glance up. For a second you believe that you’re hallucinating, taking note of the clearly wealthy man in a large hat before you, as well as the men in armour situated behind him.

The man raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

Mouth opening and closing, you attempt to splutter out something, but what comes out is a shaky, unsure breath.

He scoffs, moving closer, “Speak up, will you? Or is your throat frozen?”

A cough leaves you, your throat feeling scratchy and dry, but you spit something out nonetheless.

“Th-They l-l-left me h-here,” you stammer, your voice shaking and teeth chattering wildly. Every breath you take feels as though the ropes around your torso are tightening and tightening.

“Who left you here?” He asks, despite the fact that he sounds rather uninterested.

“Th-The village. M-My fa-family. They left me h-here to die,” you whisper, and you’re surprised by the bitterness you somehow have the strength left to conjure. You look up at him, tears still streaming down your face, “H-How cou-could they throw me a-away like that?”

Something in his expression shifts, and he takes another step towards you, head tilting to the side as he considers something.

“Why did they leave you here, then?”

“Sa-Sacrifice to a yokai. T-They thought it w-would s-stop the wi-winter and help the cr-crops grow.”

He chuckles, but there seems to be little amusement in his tone. “How ridiculous.”

You cough again, your body shivering all the more. You’re going to die soon, you know it.

“What would you offer me if I were to save you?”

Hope doesn’t crawl into your veins at his words, instead a dry sob leaves you, “I have n-nothing left to give. Nothing.”

“Not even your gratitude?”

His eyes meet yours once again, and you can’t help but note how very pretty they are, despite the fact you’re on the verge of death.

“I-If you save m-me, I’ll forever be indebted to you.”

“Hm. It’ll have to do.”

The ropes holding you up fall before you can even realise what’s happened, and in turn so do you, landing on your hands and knees, your body quaking violently.

“Up. Otherwise you’ll freeze to death here. Stand up.”

But you can’t. Any apologies you have die on your tongue when he tuts, kneeling in front of you.

He reaches a hand out to roughly pull you up by the wrist, “Archons, I have to do everything aroun-“

His grip on you leaves as fast as it came, and he stumbles back on his feet a little, watching as you peer up at him, eyes wide.

You don’t have much time to consider the consequences of what has just happened, as your body finally gives way, and you collapse into the snow in front of your soulmate.

#will do a part 2 at some point probably #for that one anon that asked me to write for him #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #tw yandere #tw.yandere #yandere #yanderecore #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scara #tw close death #tw near death #scaramouche x y/n

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huexuri · 3 months

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⊹ what are we? (fem!reader x gyu)

NSFW, MDNI!

warnings: fem!reader, college au, crying (not dacryphilia), slight body worshipping, size kink mentions, bsf!beomgyu

note: gyu looks so fucking good in the photos above i'm so wet (i'm menstruating.) and also i was gonna end this as fluff but why stop there when u can have so much more right

you finally arrive to your same old eyesore of a college building, drained and exhausted which was very painfully obvious by the way your eyebags were heavier than usual and the way you didn't even bother to make your hair like you usually did — just slapping on a claw clip like a hair tie and your hair is falling apart each step you take. your shirt is crumpled because you didn't bother to iron it, and your heavy ass bag is barely staying on your shoulder as you have to readjust it every 5 seconds.

you really didn't want to come today, but you don't have a choice. your legs hurt and your eyelids are uneven and you're sighing the entire way to your hostel. you being in horrible shape, swearing to yourself that if someone asked you if you were okay, you'd burst into tears and start having a breakdown in the middle of your lecture. and your best friend beomgyu noticed this, being the only one watching you as you walk through the hallways lazily.

finally settling all the mess that followed you this morning, you head to the bathroom to try to look presentable. putting your hair in an actual ponytail and curling your lashes while smothering on some of your lip balm, you finally collect yourself and head out, just to bump into another student, standing at the end of the hallway seemingly waiting for someone.

"oh my god- ugh! i'm really so sorry, today has just been a rough one, i'm so blur right now—" you mutter out frantically, accidentally knocking the little strawberry protein bar off their hand and onto the floor.

"girl!! it's okay, it's me! it's gyu, don't worry oh my gosh.." beomgyu giggled slightly at your anxiousness and picked up the protein bar. brushing the dust off of the plastic packaging, he hands it to you.

you take some time to regain yourself — you're about to cry because of how bad your day is starting, but realizing that it's beomgyu that you bumped into after seeing static, you finally let out a sigh of relief.

"oh.... um what's this gyu??" you take the protein bar from him. it's your favourite strawberry protein bar that you always stole from beomgyu because you didn't know where he got it.

"it's for you, i know how much you liked it so i bought a separate bar for you. you seemed really tired so i thought that it'd help a bit." your friend said casually, patting your shoulder as reassurance.

"i'm not tired!" you said frustratedly, "just... today's not going well, i—"

"i can see right through you, i know you're not okay. just eat it, and i'll see you in class. okay?" he pecks at your forehead so casually as if he does it on a daily basis. this was the first time he'd ever done that, and you can't lie, butterflies swarmed in your churning stomach.

beomgyu starts to walk away as you stare at him in disbelief for a good 5 seconds, before shouting a weak "stop!.." his way, and his head turns right at you.

running to him while stuffing the bar into your pocket of your sweatpants, you hug him so tightly, the warmth of his body and the plush of his hoodie feeling like silk on your skin.

when he bends down to return the hug, your head in the crook of his neck, you finally break down onto him, beads of salty tears staining his hoodie.

"i'm so sorry, i don't even know why i'm c-crying." you mutter, even more muffled when you speak into the cloth but he still understood you.

"hey, hey, shh.. it's gonna be okay. what about we hang out later, or like.. i bring you shopping, or... do you need water? what do you need? it'll be okay, please don't cr—"

"i need you.." you reply hastily, sniffling, and arms wrapped around him tighter than before.

"after the lesson, okay? okay pretty? don't cry, you're so strong." beomgyu replies, his big hands patting the small of your back. he always called you pretty as a supportive friendly "go girl!" way, but it felt so different when he reassured you, it felt so genuine. it made you feel prettier than he'd usually do. you felt like his pretty girl.

pulling apart from his embrace, you nod and sniffle, your nose and eyes red as he cups your face and wipes your tears away with his thumb, sweetly caressing your face.

the both of you finally calm down and you walk to class together. you don't know how to see him now, is he still your friend or are you both more than that? maybe he was just being affectionate because he's a supportive friend, but what kind of friend would—

snapping out of your thoughts as you both arrive to your seats, gyu being seated next to you. he admires you as you munch on the protein bar he gave you, even breaking off a piece for him.

your lecturer is talking but all you can think about is his arm around your chair, lightly fidgeting with the sleeve of your shirt. your head is rested comfortably on his shoulder and you're really trying your best to take notes. but it's hard when you both are so close like this, it's like another side of him has revealed to you the moment you started sobbing. you're not complaining. it feels great to have someone like him as a.... friend?

classes finally ended, and the both of you meet up again, planning to go to a shopping mall to cheer you up. you already did feel better after he hugged you, but beomgyu kept insisting he'd bring you out to eat all the bingsu you want, and that it'd be on him. how can you ever decline that?

the both of you had the best day at the shopping mall, and the both of you even took little polaroid photos together.

hopping in his car, preparing to return to the both of your designated hostels, there's the sound of the car engine revving and the both of you sigh after what seemed to be .. sort of a date.

but there was still an aching question that never faded from the back of your head that you'd ought to ask him since this morning.

"what are we?"

you hadn't realized you just said it out loud. when he replies you, you slightly shiver.

"wanna find out?" he replies to you as he started to drive.

"..."

there was a silence for a few minutes. it wasn't awkward, but rather as if he gave you time to ponder.

"can i kiss you?" you blurted out, breaking the silence.

beomgyu swerved and parked at a remote place. it was dark outside and the city lights are miles away.

"what are you waiting for?" beomgyu looked at you with expectancy in his glistening brown eyes.

looking around hesitantly, hoping that nobody would see you guys, beomgyu lifts your chin with his soft hands, waiting for an answer.

"i-i don't know," you muttered.

"then go on, kiss me, pretty girl." beomgyu smiled at you with reassurance.

you closed your eyes as he pulled you close. his cold lips met yours and one of your palm cups his cheek as the other grip on his fluffy hair. your noses touch and beomgyu sighs as he sinks into you, now torso on top of yours, the both of you decide to take it to the backseat.

not breaking the kiss in this entire 20 seconds as your tongues play fight with each other, your mouth taking his lips in, his teeth gliding onto your lips. you sloppily let go of the kiss as a string of saliva connects your lips with his. you're both catching breaths and panting slowly, gazing at each other with awe.

"what are we now?" you say, almost in a whisper.

"is this not enough to answer your question?" beomgyu says while wiping his mouth.

"i don't think so.." you coo, and a pretty grin replaces beomgyu's tireless expression.

running your fingers down his torso and trailing little kisses down his clothed pecs, getting closer and closer to his bud, you look up at him, eyeing him with consent and he nods.

you lift his shirt up to reveal his toned body that he always hid under his baggy shirts. you praise his body with your love and finally, you lay a tongue on his bud. hands on his chest as his shirt's folds rest on the top of your head. you draw little circles with your tongue around his bare nipple and he sighs at that, his back arching away from the car seat for a bit before laying on the car seat again, head thrown back after looking at the lovely sight from above.

you do the same to his other nipple, painting it wet with your spit before letting go and slowly making your way down to his waistband, getting dangerously close to his erection that grew the more you came closer.

beomgyu strokes your hair and tucks your face framing piece behind your ear, with hope that you'll quickly help his aching boner already..

tracing his v-line with your soft fingers and tugging at his waistband before gazing up at his pretty features, waiting for permission.

beomgyu eagerly nods his head, eyes glossy with plead.

"please, go on.." he whispers impatiently, his cock already seeming to want to burst out of his pants.

"okay, okay." you giggle softly and unzip his pants, pulling it and bunching it up towards you, only to be met with the sight of his throbbing cock, the only barrier between you and him being the thin polyester of his boxers.

he's bigger than you expected. it felt odd that you'd be thinking about your best friend's cock now that it's in front of you. once you struggle to pull down his boxers, immediately his cock springs out and slightly hits his own stomach. now, with much ease you continue to pull down his boxers and... well, you're not even sure if you can take him whole.

with a final knowing look at him, beomgyu gives you the green light as he adjusts his position to rest his back.

he gasps as you take him in your mouth, the feeling of your warmth enveloping his shaft is exhilarating to him.

"s-shit,... that feels so..." beomgyu murmured, his eyebrows in a slight frown. his eyes lustrous, looking at your pretty face as you sink down on him.

he loses himself in the pleasure,, moaning softly and thrusting upward into each stroke of your mouth. he gently fists at your hair — eyes fluttering shut as his mouth grows agape, whimpers escaping him now and then.

you on the other hand; you're hollowing your cheeks so you can take him as much as you can, despite his almost unnatural size and girth. the beads of precum that slide effortlessly down your throat each time you lower your head onto him and his slit taps the back of your throat.

"d-does it feel good?" you mumble, with him still in your mouth.

"fuck yes it does, i..." beomgyu's eyes roll backwards when you basically swallow his cock. "you're so good at this, h-how.. oh my— holy shit,"

you start to increase your pace at his words, bubbles of spit collecting at the back of your throat, coating the entirety of his quivering tip, slightly gagging on it.

"oh my fucking god."

beomgyu's whispers send you to heaven on earth. his pretty shaking voice is like candy for your ears. the sight of his sweaty hair falling in front of his eyes, his lips drying up because it'd been slightly parted for so long. finally licking his lips and bucking his hips up into you, you can feel his pelvis stutter, and you know he's going to squirt into your mouth, so you prepare — positioning yourself to sink onto him before he—

"fuck, cummin', a-aah—"

hot cum spurts down your throat and with ease, you take it all. his hips buck up to pump it all out of him and his grip on your hair loosens.

you finally let go of his cock along with the breath you'd been holding for god knows how long. stretching his boxers over his cock and then his pants, you crawl onto him with one final kiss so he'd taste himself off of you.

"today wasn't a bad day after all hm?" beomgyu smiled, his hand rubbing your upper back as if to release the tension from your previous position.

"not anymore, now that i can confirm that we're more than just best friends." you return the smile gently.

"yeah, we're best best friends!" beomgyu teased.

"gyu!! oh my god, you little rat..."

#xuri writes #txt smut #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x reader #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts

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bucknastysbabe · 4 months

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hi cal! i love your page sm. i wanted to request more chubby bucky (i’m so obsessed & haven’t seen him in a min) also make sure to take care of yourself and have a good day/night 🩷

HI!!!! Sorry I’ve been such a spazz and awful about my page and askbox I’m in my new era blah blah but YES! CHUBBY BUCKY! Thanks for the well wishes I’m trying to practice ~self care~ and ~time management~ mwah mwah much love. So let’s say this just in the same universe as Poolside Blues!

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW: body dysmorphia, obsessive thoughts, negative body talk, Muscle chub Buck, Bucky’s shit self esteem is saved by sunshine gf, holiday weight gain, Bucky being a stubborn mf, switch!Bucky, reader has empathic projection, horny texts, body worship, WE LOVE SOFT PARTS AND STRETCH MARKS ROUND HERE, teasing, sub space, daddy kink, pnv!sex, cuddles and fluff, Bucky is just a big cuddly tiger kitty

“Bucky if you stare at the scale any longer I’m going to break it. Holidays are over, you can get back to being in the gym twenty-five eight.”

Bucky eyed his petite girlfriend, frowning from the doorway to the bathroom. He palmed his stupid fucking gut and sighed, he actually had to suck in to see the number! This is why Bucky hated the holidays. Besides being cold. James Buchanan Barnes very much disliked the cold, one could assume why.

He could handle the residual un-moveable pudge leftover from Hydra’s ever consistent tinkering with his bodily functions. But then it all started with Halloween. Wanda and his girlfriend loved to bake. So he’s getting force fed cookies. Then they need to decorate, go to functions, give out candy. No time for gym.

Bucky grumbled and stepped off the scale, padding to his closet. He grumbled more, “Stupid turkey holiday.” Great yes, the holiday known for feasting. Pumpkin spiced everything in his vision. Bucky had a weakness for pumpkin, his ma made good spiced bread. He took a short vacation with his lovely little angel to the mountains. He tried to rationalize that hiking and marathon sex would make up for the amount of food he had ingested.

Tony Stark of course had a grandiose Thanksgiving celebration. Bucky tried to keep it light, he did, he really did. But every refusal got sad eyes or downright offense. The former winter soldier was belly up by the end of the night, all gym plans out the window.

Christmas fared no better. His best gal absolutely adored Christmas. It was the first holiday she’d experience not as an asset to Hydra, just like Bucky. So instead of RUNNING or LIFTING, the Brunette was shopping and ice skating. He’d already gone up a size in clothes December 3rd to be exact. Bucky correctly guessed he would go up another post-Christmas.

He’d whinge and rant to Steve, the blondie listening and telling Bucky to chill— it’s not like anyone thought it was bad. Bucky exasperatedly shouted, “I’m like a goddamn balloon! I don’t need to be on missions like this! I’m going to Bruce, jerk.”

“Punk.”

Bruce didn’t help either. Just said once he got back into a routine it would come off and he’d be at his regular weight. Refused to give Bucky Ozempic either. Some kinda doctor he was, his patient was obviously distraught.

“Are you dressed yet?,” she hollered.

“Give me a second!,” Bucky pouted.

He was going to pout today. Go to gym, get anger out, and pout. So he shimmied on some catastrophically tight basketball shorts and the biggest shirt he could find. Luckily it covered him up. May or may not have been a panic buy. Bucky cursed some more sitting on his bench to lace up his shoes, stupid gut getting in the way.

Red faced and irritated he snarked, “Happy now princess? I’m going to the gym, nothing is stopping me, I will be going to work out.” She grinned and watched him grab his bag, slapping a round ass cheek on his way out. Bucky shuddered at the wobble. Her familiar rasp rang out, “Nice ass baby! Go get em!”

He was too old for this. Technically his girl was ten years his junior if you took off the cryogenic time. He loved her dearly, always bubbly, somehow remained optimistic after all she’d been through. But the little freak liked Bucky’s pudge, loved it. Always grabbing up on it.

Bucky took the stairs to the gym. He needed it. The brunette thought with a smirk that if he had a nickel for every time he had to remove her hands from his ‘handles of love’ he would’ve been a millionaire back during the Depression. He grimaced at the feeling of his chubby tummy and thick thighs.

Finally. He’d made it. Gym time.

Not a soul in sight, Bucky could just relax and get his frustrations out. With a fuck-ton of a cardio and some toning exercises— really didn’t need any muscle to bulk him out more. He felt a bit peaceful for once, a strange bravado coming over him. The soldier stretched his unused muscles and did a bit of breathing exercises.

God, he already felt lighter. Maybe. Maybe he would take a picture and see if the camera made him look different. Bucky’s therapist already hammered him about his ‘body dysmorphia and negative self-image’.

Taking a peak about and tying his hair half up, Bucky propped the camera at a flattering angle and yanked off his shirt. He refused to look in a mirror for the holidays unless he was clothed. Fiddling with the inane controls, the man finally had the thing on a timer. He pulled off his shirt and tried to pose, straighten up his back again.

The flash went off and he ran to the phone, hit send, then sat down on a nearby bench to look fully. The brunette had to keep his ‘body positive!’ thoughts at the forefront. His chest and legs looked good. Face didn’t look too puffy thanks beard.

Disgust picked the earlier bravado up and hulk smashed it. Buck’s eyes were glued to his rounded belly and fat hips, a muffin over those horrid shorts. There, oh my god, there were stretchmarks on him? Bucky never had stretchmarks! Not the red kind! But there they were— mocking him. Ragged lines on his hips and sections of stomach.

He deleted the picture, feeling horrid. He should run more. But not before the pings blowing up his phone. She was strange and texted in 5 different messages that could’ve been sent in one singular text.

“Babbbbyyyy omg you’re so hot”

“Fuck, I’m getting all flustered in this debrief.”

“Look at that pretty body. Wanna lick those pretty stripes, tiger.”

“I’m so horny lmfao get your ass back to the room in 30. I’m gonna fucking ride you so goddamn hard.”

Bucky blinked a bit, feeling himself perk up. He still was a overblown balloon, but at-least the weirdo he loved enjoyed it. “Tiger huh,” he murmured, scratching at the sensitive marks. Bucky had a time limit now, snatching his gear up and stuffing it into a bag, hustling down the stairs to his room.

“Hey Buck,” Sam’s voice was a blur as Bucky entered his room. He smirked a bit hearing a muffled, “Weird ass.” The super soldier kept his mind on the prize— getting the daylights fucked out of him by his girls. Nope he wasn’t going to pay attention to the chafe on the inside of his thighs one bit. Okay...maybe he’d powder the area after the shower.

All he had to do was wait now. Wait. Not get nerved about his very naked body. He felt like a pile of exposed lard but it’ll be okay. Yep. Bucky would be fine. Pussy would fix his problems. As long as she played nice and didn’t tease. That rendered Bucky into a teary, babbling mess. Either he was always a masochist or Hydra made him into one but God— sometimes when she got mean he saw stars.

The door busted open, Bucky feeling relief at her grinning face. She gently closed it behind her, stripping easily while throwing her panties at him. He caught the material, moaning softly as she growled, “See what you did to me in the middle of that debrief? Had to cut it short my pheromones were so bad.”

Bucky inspected the panties, eyes fluttering at the slick wetting the cloth. He gripped and inhaled, hand flying down to soothe his cock. A lithe body crawled to the end of the bed, the soldier flushing as she seated herself in between his thighs. Keeping him in fucking missionary, her manicured nails spreading him a bit. He gasped, body jolting at the exposure.

Her perky tits heaved as she groped at his thighs and slid down to get handfuls of his round ass. Bucky threw his head back and moaned, “W-What are you up to?” Earlier mentioned pheromones were making his body keyed up and sensitive, pupils likely swallowing up blue eyes. She leaned forward, taught body against his cock.

“Mmm- I don’t know really. You just looked so delicious,” she kissed his belly and cooed, “I know you’re upset with yourself right now, Buck, you’re fucking gorgeous. Holiday weight or not. But I’ll even go to the gym with you, know I’ve been a distraction.”

Bucky slurred a name, hands reaching for her waist, she was so sweet. He sighed, “I enjoyed you as my distraction, best disss-traction everrr. Fuck you’re makin’ me horny babydoll.” She crawled up his bigger body to plant a kiss on Bucky’s swollen lips before sliding back to her place. His cock leaked when she giggled, “I know, poor baby’s all achy for me. But I wanna do something first.”

She slid palms up and down Bucky’s muscled arms, soothing him a little. Then the she-devil gripped his chunky love-handles and shook, watching with poorly-disguised glee. Bucky whined, “Baaaby, stoppp, it’s awful!”

“Think of them as tiger stripes, they’ll fade out when you drop weight,” she dug under where his belly hung a bit and traced at his most sensitive stretch marks. Bucky let out an indecent noise, thrusting up into her sweet touch. The fellow avenger cooed, “S’that feel good tiger? Need some lotion. Pretty boy.”

Bucky outright whimpered when her hand wrapped around his weepy cock, already slick from copious pre. She slowly moved her hand, praising him. Pretty boy, smart, handsome, good, kind, helpful.

He was going to bust a nut before anything happened. Bucky barked, “B-babe, stop! Stop!” Her pretty brows knitted together, hand jerking away as she asked, “What’s wrong bub?” He panted, “Gimme a second, w-wanna fuck you so baaaad.” She gently stroked the outside of thick muscled thighs, padded with love in her opinion.

“Thought I was going to ride you?,” she asked, face beginning to flush.

Bucky shook his head, managing to push himself up to get face-to-face. His soft body filled the tight space between them, making her whimper now. Bucky used one hand to caress the side of her face, the other massaging her pretty tit. Long lashes fluttered, her lips falling open.

Score. He managed to somewhat fumble through the pheromone fog.

Bucky rumbled, “Nuh-uh, all this talk about my body and you don’t want me to pin you down and fill your pretty pussy up? Hm sweetheart?” He punctuated the sentence with a deep kiss, the sweet thing easily giving up to him. It was fun when she played mean but Bucky had more experience— he could play his girl like a fucking fiddle.

“C’mon,” smack, “use your,” smack, “words baby,” smack smack. She didn’t want to stop kissing, sucking on his bottom lip as he pulled away. She blushed, embarrassed on how fast the situation had flipped. His girl whined, “Yeah, c’mon fuck me, fuck me full daddy.” He grinned and laid back, strong arms pulling her atop him.

She squealed, eyes widening. Bucky purred, “You know what to do, Daddy’ll let you on top.” He bit his swollen lip again watching the tip of his clock get swallowed by molten heat, the pair of them shuddering in ecstasy. Her little hands planted on his chest, panting and whining at the fullness. He’d get to work, holding that pretty waist and fucking up into her tight cunt.

It wasn’t long before she was crying out and laying atop his body, gasping, “Y’feel so good! Ah! Soft and oh god s’fucking hard!” Bucky sucked at her neck and thrust into her with downright pornographic slaps. He grunted and gasped, legs wonderfully getting another workout.

He murmured into her ear, a hand stilling all that writhing the poor thing was doing, “Yeah doll? Daddy fucking you good? Feels good to lay on Daddy and get your pussy pounded huh?” She sobbed, clenching and spilling tears on his neck, “Yes daddy! Yes! Don’t stop, fuckfuckfuck, s’rubbing my clit! I love you Daddy!”

Bucky’s eyes crossed for a second. What?

The evil flab that curses his very existence is a free clit rubber? He moaned in delight. Bucky changed their position some to milk out that new fact. Might as well abuse it before it’s gone. His baby was clinging to him now, mewling his name, pussy spasming sporadically. Bucky tilted her head up, melting at her pretty eyes. He rasped, “Come for Daddy baby, know you’re close, let go babydoll.”

He was grinding the tip of his cock into her soft spot while cooing at her. She hiccuped on a sob, the entirety of lean frame tightening down on him. His baby was a lot stronger than she looked. He could feel her core clamp and soak his cock, sending Bucky reeling into his own orgasm with a hoarse shout. He whimpered at the feeling of his balls drawing painfully tight, emptying all he had pent up.

They laid in a pile of sweat and spend, probably love. She was still subbed out, nuzzling into Bucky, only making a soft noise when his soft cock slid out. The brunette guessed it was his turn to return her earlier favor. He felt like the man of the hour. Crazy little kitten thought her geriatric overweight cyborg assassin was hot. Even with the holiday pounds.

So he pressed little kisses, rubbed her back, waxed poetic nonsense of his love for her. Bucky was a lover boy back in the day, just a little rusty, not like his Babygirl was on planet Earth right now anyways. She murmured into his neck with a dopey smile, “Tiger.”

Once again, crazy fellow asset saving Bucky’s wavering self-esteem. How lucky was he?

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #chubby!bucky x reader #chubby!bucky #fluff and smut

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tabletop-nightmare · 1 year

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My 70 year old parents and 46 year old sister are watching Legend of Vox Machina with me and I thought I would start making note of the things THEY make note of with absolutely no context of CR:

Unfortunately I didn't think of this until Season 2 so all I'll say for Season 1 is they fell in love with all of the characters.

Season 2 ep. 1-3:

Ep 1: Lots of babbling about the dragons. Raven Queen sighting 1 left them all asking me questions loudly that I obviously couldn't answer. My mom asking if Vax is bi and my sister not missing a beat "I think they all are." My sister pointing out Scanlan's unwillingness to fight the dragons. They did a lot of eye rolling with Scanlan season 1 and they are very clearly realizing shits deeper than that.

Ep 2: I'll start off with saying my family now greats me with "Bidet" its a blessing. My dad straight up said "I think the sword may be regretting who its with rn." Which obviously made me wheeze. Raven Queen sighting 2 had them asking more questions but Louder. They are very aware now that all of the characters are highly complex and that this may be a bit more than a funny violence riddled time. Osysa's comment to Scanlan especially made my family go "oh wait... oh no wait a minute." This is a Pike Trickfoot loving household. They are very aware of the character arc Grog is about to go through I think.

Ep 3: Purvan Suul funny. My sister football yelling at them to look in the lake. Seeing Grogs frenzy made a few people nod their heads. With what understanding they have of DnD and the fact the show is almost a 1 to 1 to a dnd campaign they were really fucked up about Vex's death. My mom is a sweetheart and was like "Wait did that mean she couldnt play anymore :(" and I explained some dnd stuff to her and it turns out it was an evil rouse to get me to say that Vex would "probably" be fine and she straight up went "oh okay so shes not dead :)" Evil Mother tactics.

#tlovm spoilers #the legend of vox machina #critical role #i will be updating this as the episodes come out

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keishawantskisses · 3 days

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Oh, nothing much, just a list of reasons why I am so excited to permashift to my ultimate 4d reality //better current reality//

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

— EXPERIENCING DESIRED SCENARIOS

I am a hardcore daydreamer just like my brother and sister shifters(you guys🫵🏾), and I can't wait to really live the silly imagines I always have in my head. Even if it's something relatively small, I will still get to live every second of them.

Idk if some of you guys will remember that one post where I mentioned Googlebox? But I'm mentioning it again🙄 because I scripted me, my love of my life, his sister who is my bff, my own girl bff and her boyfriend are part of the program teehee. I swear no one will ever understand how much of a comfort show Googlebox is to me and in general.

The idea of being on TV whilst watching TV and relaxing with my favourite people and eating my favourite food just makes me melt. It's such a core memory to me and idk I just love showing off how perfect my family is to everyone else

— FOOD

I can't wait for all the delicious food I'll get to eat. There will never be a single time where I have to eat something I don't like or don't want to ever again, because why should I have to? I'm mostly excited to have stuff like popeyes, McDonald's, seafood boils, those Korean and Japanese foods you see on mukbangs, loads of fruit bowls (I really do love fruit), basically everything meat/barbecue, pasta including ramen, and sweets too cus🧍🏿‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️

— NO UGLY CLOTHES ALLOWED

Never will there be a day or night where I will ever need to wear clothes that don't suit me or clothes I don't like. My closet is going to be full of the cutest and gorgeous late 90s and early 2000s skirts, shirts, bellbottoms, flares, jackets, oversized ts, shorts, belts, slippers, jewelry, panties and bras etc etc

— ALREADY COMPLETED WORK

In my better cr, I scripted that I am already miles ahead of everyone in college work (and best believe all my work is at distinction level) so I have all the time in the world to do what I want until the next brief; I also scripted the date of month that I will wake up in my better cr in is the 16th April last week so I will have only 3 days of college next week (because i go in on mondays, tuesdays, wendsays and Thursdays) and 4 weeks of freedom to myself. (I also scripted my teachers let me do my own art work in my free time in class, cus sometimes all a girl wants to do is draw their ocs🥺)

— CURRENTLY IN MY MOVING ERA

In better cr, I am kind of in the planning process of moving out of my house to my apartment penthouse with my friend group. I'm thinking of moving out at 18 or 19 years old since I'm 17 rn and I still want to explore my better cr house cus it's wayyyy better than this one. But even once I've moved out I'll probably keep visiting my old home where my mum and her husband lives because.

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

Overall, I am so excited to experience everything I have ever dreamed of. I know I deserve my freedom and peace, excitement, and joy. Being able to just do what I want when I want and always knowing that no matter what, everything is going to be okay.

Life is so amazing, and it's so worth living. I know I will manifest my desired reality in no time, and I know all of the stress, time, anxiety, and patience won't be for nothing. Life is mine to explore, and I can't wait to do so

@4ellieluv @livingmydreamlife5555 @theshifterbear @cocozydiaries

#desired reality #master manifestor #4d reality #law of assumption #shiftblr #drself #loa #shifters #shifting #loa blog #loa advice #loassumption #loa tumblr #loa success #reality shift #shifted #reality shifting #shifttok #shifting community

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razmahdaz-art · 5 months

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This is for a few bitches and a few bitches ONLY.

Specifically, those who found my old Ashton fanart and decided to blow it up to like, 300+ notes. This is for you now STOP LOOKING AT MY OLD ART.

I started watching cr again and I had to draw some fanart. I'm in the 50s so PLEASE don't spoil me if it can be helped. I just know that I love FRIDA and Deanna, but I do miss my barbarian.

#my art #digital art #clip studio paint #dungeons and dragons #clip studio art #fanart #ashton greymoore #critical role fanart #critical role art #bells hells #critical role #time for my yearly catch up sprint #I can't wait for Emily #I know she's here #but I'm very much enjoying the Uthadurn shenanigans.

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andieleeee · 29 days

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I have been laughing for 5 minutes now. If you saw the Tiktok then i want you to know this:

Permashifting is real and very much possible. And it doesn't make it more challenging to shift, if you decided to permashift.

Do people return to their old lives after manifesting physical changes? No.

Do people return to their old lives after revising their past? No.

Some people are so 3D-focused, they will never see shifting be on the same level as their CR.

I decided to write this post for the people who might get doubts after watching that.

I wanted to write it under their comment section but writing a comment under a Tiktok with so much limiting beliefs, is like writing a comment under a viral Tiktok filled with people telling you it's your mental illness.

#shifting realities #reality shifting #shifting blog #desired reality #shiftblr #shifting #shifter #shifting motivation

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bigfootsmom · 3 months

Note

#19 for the prompts beloved <3

Years later I have returned to fill this prompt <3

"Do you want me to stay?"

The motel room is about as nice as the lobby was, which isn’t saying much. The scent of stale cigarette smoke hits Buck square in the face the moment he finally gets the door open. It squeaks on rusty hinges and Buck winces.

“It’s no Ritz, but at least there are…” Buck trails off as his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. “There’s one bed.”

Eddie brushes past him and into the room, dropping his bag onto the luggage rack before leaning over to flick on the bedside lamp. It casts a hazy orange glow on the room, illuminating some unsavory looking stains on the mauve carpet.

“Well, beats sleeping in your jeep.”

Guilt twists in his already knotted stomach. “Yeah, you’re right— your old man back probably couldn’t handle that.” Buck laughs, trying to bring some levity to the situation.

Buck’s attempt at a joke fizzles out in the smoky air between them, the corner of Eddie’s mouth barely twitching up in a half-hearted smile. It doesn’t do anything to erase the tight lines around his eyes. Clearing his throat, Buck steps further into the room to set his bag down on the tired looking armchair in the corner.

“I, uh— I found a repair shop that can fit us in tomorrow morning. We just have to wait for the tow.”

“That’s good,” Eddie says, not looking up from where he’s rummaging through his bag. “Any luck finding an earlier tow?”

Scuffing his toe over the carpet, Buck can’t quite swallow down the pang of shame. “No. They still can’t get here until early tomorrow morning.”

(rest below the cut to save space)

Eddie sighs and Buck feels like tucking his tail between his legs and cowering. It’s easy to tell that Eddie is upset, the tense lines of his shoulders, the furrow between his brow, the deep bruises of exhaustion under his eyes— Buck knows he’s the reason behind all those things.

Lifting his toiletry bag out of his duffle, Eddie scrubs a hand down his face. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“O–okay,” Buck shuffles his feet as Eddie walks past him to the bathroom. “There was a McDonald’s down the street…I–I can go grab us some dinner.”

Eddie doesn’t respond, but Buck doubts that he can hear him over the death rattle of the bathroom fan. Buck stands there for a moment, listening to the squealing of the pipes and the hiss of water from the showerhead. Well, dinner isn’t going to get itself.

The McDonald’s is further away than he thought. By the time he’s walked there and back, the sun has set and he’s covered in sweat and road dust, skin prickling uncomfortably. The neon light from the motel’s sign illuminates the cracked and crumbling walkway to the room. The door sticks and it takes Buck a few times rattling the key in the lock to get it to finally swing open.

Inside, Eddie is sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard as he watches whatever is playing on the shoebox of a television. He looks up when Buck walks in.

“Hey.”

There are still dark circles under his eyes, but some of the tense lines of Eddie’s muscles have relaxed. He’s changed into sleep clothes, worn sweatpants, and a faded t-shirt. His hair is still damp from his shower, strands of it falling soft against his forehead. He looks so soft and all Buck wants to do is wrap himself up in him. Instead, he lifts the greasy paper bag in his hand.

“Hey— got your favorite.” He sets the bag on the nightstand along with a bottle of water.

Eddie swings his legs over the edge of the bed, reaching forward to peer into the bag. “Big Mac with—”

“Extra ketchup is in the bottom.” Buck moves his bag from the armchair and sits down. The springs creak ominously under his weight as he pulls out his own burger.

“Thanks, Buck.”

Buck shrugs, “Least I could do.”

Eddie shoots Buck a weird look, but doesn’t say anything, watching him a moment longer before rifling through the paper bag. The both of them eat their meals in silence, the only noise in the room is the crinkling of paper wrappers and the drone from whatever is on the television. Eddie flips through the channels, finally settling on the rerun of a sitcom that looks vaguely familiar, while Buck pretends to taste his food.

It’s hard to eat with the way his stomach won’t stop twisting. He knew he should have gotten that rattle in the jeep’s engine, but he thought that he could make it through the camping trip. Stupid.

When the silence nearly kills him, he retreats to the bathroom, toiletries and sleep clothes clutched to his chest as he tells Eddie he’s going for a shower. Eddie grunts some noncommittal response and the food sitting heavy in his stomach sours.

The water rattles in the undoubtably ancient pipes, but Buck is pleasantly surprised when he’s met with hot water and decent water pressure. He takes his time, washing the road from his body as he delays the inevitable…the one bed. He knows that he and Eddie have shared beds before, that’s not the problem.

The problem is that Eddie is clearly upset with Buck, and Buck doesn’t blame him.

He opens the bathroom door in a billowing clouds of steam, noting that Eddie is under the covers already with the television turned down low. The blue glow from the screen casts sharp shadows on his face, highlighting the curve of his nose and cheekbones. Buck hesitates in the doorway. Maybe he can slip out and come back once Eddie is asleep, avoid all the tense awkwardness of lying next to each other in the dark.

Buck gets halfway across the room before Eddie sits up straighter, a look of confusion written across his face.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, um— I–I was gonna go check on the jeep.”

Eddie leans over and turns the bedside lamp back on. “What? Buck don’t be— the jeep is like a 2 mile walk down the road.”

Buck twists his hands together. “I just—”

“Buck it’s late. The jeep will be fine, we can check on it tomorrow morning.” The light from the television shines bright in his eyes. “Come to bed, worry about it tomorrow.”

“You want me to stay?” Buck hates how the insecurity creeps into his voice, but he’s to tired to fight it.

“Want you–– Buck what are you talking about? Of course I want you to stay. I don’t want you walking down the side of the road in the middle of the night.”

“You’re not mad?”

Eddie sits up, pushing the covers back. “No I’m not mad at you, why would I be?”

“You just looked upset and—” Buck vaguely gestures at the motel room around them. “I ruined the trip back— you’re not gonna be back in time for Chris tomorrow.”

“I mean I’m exhausted and it’s not ideal that we have to stay here, but Pepa is picking Chris up from camp tomorrow. I’ll see him after,” Eddie answers, and then blinks when he registers the other part of Buck’s sentence. “Buck you didn’t ruin anything, unless you sabotaged the jeep on purpose—”

Buck lets out an indignant “Of course not!”

“Then it’s not your fault. It’s just a shitty situation. But no one got hurt. So all things considered I think it turned out pretty okay.”

Slowly, Buck starts realizing that all the signs of Eddie’s “anger” from before may not have been anger at all. Heat rises in his cheeks. Well now he just feels silly.

“You sure?” Buck has to ask just one more time.

“Yeah I’m sure, Buck. C’mon, I know you’re exhausted from driving all day.” Eddie pats the empty side of the bed.

A smile stretches across Buck’s face, relief swelling behind his breastbone and pushing him forward. Eagerly, he crawls under the covers on the far side of the bed, all the exhaustion hitting him at once now that he knows Eddie isn’t mad at him.

The mattress creaks as Eddie shifts, pulling the covers back on. “Just don’t steal all the covers, then I might get mad at you.”

Buck snorts, mumbling into the pillow, “Not like you need the covers— you’re like a furnace. Some of us have poor circulation.”

“You just have to snuggle up.”

It takes Buck’s brain a second to register what Eddie said and a flush spreads in his cheeks. He’s pretty sure that Eddie is joking, but his heart still skips a beat.

“You’ll regret offering that when my snoring wakes you up.”

Eddie laughs, settling further back against the pillows. “Fine, fine— just try and get some sleep. We’ve still got some driving tomorrow.”

“Alright, goodnight Eddie.”

“Goodnight, Buck.”

#one bed prompts #prompt fill #911 fic #911 #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #molly writes #molly got mail #honestlydarkprincess #princess tag

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sweetandgentlecreature · 9 months

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First Light

Author’s Note: Hey, y’all! Me again! In this installation of Somethin’ Sweet, we’re back to Sy’s point of view. Grab some tissues and join me in my sad girl era. As always, thanks for stopping by!

Summary: Sy’s up early prepping for deployment and can’t help but relive the events from the night before.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female OC

Warnings: sexual content; nipple play, p-in-v intercourse, descriptions of male and female anatomy, explicit language, and adult themes. I am an adult, and due to the nature of this content, all works created by me will be rated for those 18 years and older. Minors, DNI.

Playlist

It never rains in Texas, but it did on the morning of Sy’s inevitable departure. Heavy clouds hung low in the sky as an early morning fog rolled in through the treeline. Bright, angry streaks of lightning raced across the sky and casted shadows through the room. A loud crash of thunder shook the old tin roof and startled him awake. In his moment of panic, Sy sat up straight and knocked the headboard into the wall behind the bed with a loud crack. It took him a second to recognize his surroundings in the dark, but once he did, he breathed a sigh of relief. A quick glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand beside him made his shoulders drop. 4:45am. Sy reached out and turned it off, as not to disturb his lover tucked so sweetly beneath the quilt beside him. That girl could sleep through a hurricane. A little fall of rain wouldn’t bother her much. Leaving over, he kissed the top of her head and lingered there, but only for a moment. Long enough to memorize the way she smelled. Honeysuckle and vanilla. Fuck, he’ll miss her.

Sy moved to plant his feet on the floor and ran a hand down his tired face. The last two weeks have been…a little less than ideal. It was his fault, really. He’d gotten the orders to ship out almost a month ago, but waited a while to tell her about them. He didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Things were just getting good here. Things were still so fun and new, but as always, Uncle Sam had other plans for him.

The first person he told was his mama. When he did, she barely flinched. Sy made the third generation of Syverson men who’d stormed courageously into war. His daddy served in Vietnam, his papaw in World War II. When duty called, they answered. It wasn’t easy, watching him walk out the door, never knowing if he’ll make it home again, but she’d made peace with it by now. “What good does it do fer me ta’ worry? Either you’ll come back, or ya wont. It’s in the Lord’s hands now.”

Sy trod lightly off to the bathroom to start the shower. The room filled with steam, just enough to fog the mirror as stood beneath the steady stream and let it run over his head. Staring down at his feet, he let the water consume him. Heavy drops clung to his lashes, but he didn’t bother to blink them away. His mind was somewhere else. With someone else.

Sy had always been a steak-and-potatoes kinda guy, but he’d barely touched his plate. Every bite felt too heavy in his stomach, like he’d traded out his ribeye for a hunk of lead instead. She’d spent so much time cooking for him, springing for only the best of meat and the freshest produce the grocery store had to offer. The least he could do was clear his plate. Lord knew when he’d get another meal like this again.

Once he’d managed to choke it down, he stood and started grabbing dishes to take to the sink, but she stopped him quickly. She’d barely said a word all night, and her interjection almost startled him. “No, baby,” she whispered, taking the plate from his hands. “Let me get those.”

Merrin kept her back to him as she filled the kitchen sink with hot, soapy water. Steam fogged the window above as she drifted off in thought. She was a million miles away from here, swimming in regret and longing for just a little more time. There was so much to do, so much to say, but the words never came out right. She hadn’t even realized she was crying until the tears began to blur her vision. Closing her eyes, she gave in and let them spill down her face. She’d fought so hard to keep her distance. To brace herself for the inevitable. In the end, she’d fallen hard. Harder than she’d ever expected to; head over heels and still tumbling. She braced herself against the sink and let her head hang low, covering her mouth to muffle the sobs that bubbled up from her trembling chest.

When a hand reached out to touch her shoulder, she gasped. Looking up again, Merrin stared into the reflection of his eyes in the pane of glass before them. Calloused fingertips brushed her hair to the side, then traced along the side of her delicate throat. His voice was low and deep, a rumbling baritone pressed against her back as he broke the silence.

“I’m not gone yet. Gimme one more night. Just one more night, alone with you.”

Merrin sniffled softly, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and nodded. From there, Sy wasted no time. Most of the dishes made it into the sink, but a broken glass was the last thing on his mind when he placed her onto the countertop. Shoving his way between her open knees, his lips were hot and harsh as they crashed into hers. If she didn’t know any better, she might think he was angry with her. In truth, Sy was angry; angry at their situation, angry at the world, but not at her. Never at her.

He grabbed her up, one hand on the back of the neck and the other wrapped around her thigh, squeezing with a force hard enough to leave a bruise. The pain turned into pleasure, the aggression turned to lust, and Merrin returned the favor with shared fervor. She wasn’t scared of him. On the contrary, she relished in his smothering presence, digging perfectly manicured nails into the meat of his shoulder as she drew him in just as close. Her mouth worked with his in a haphazard clash of teeth and tongue. Even in the mess, there was still beauty to be found. She was soft and sweet where he was rough and hungry. A yin to a yang, souls intertwined as one.

His shirt hit the floor first, and her sundress followed soon after. Merrin grabbed him by the belt and yanked until his hips pressed sharply into her own. They worked together to loosen the buckle and pop the button beneath it, ripping it from the loops and tossing it away to clatter to the floor. Rough hands came up to cup her breasts, bare and warm, a perfect fit for each palm. He squeezed gently and smirked against her neck, relishing in her pleads for more.

“Clay,” she whispered, clinging to him as he dropped his head to nuzzle against one hardened nipple, then the other. Always one to please, he licked his lips and welcomed one into his mouth. He took his time, gazing up through thick lashes as he moved from one breast to the other. She looked like an angel, basking in the glow of the sunset that poured in around her. But Merrin was no saint, far from it, and couldn’t stand his temptation for long. She let a hand fall between them to meet the bulge in his jeans and palmed it gently. She could almost feel the ache beneath the distressed denim; a steady, throbbing need that seeked relief that only she could provide. The words came before she could stop them. “Fuck me, Clay.”

Sy mumbled a gruff “Yes ma’am” into the flesh of her breasts and tugged himself free from his boxers. Never one to keep his lady waiting, he hooked a finger into the gusset of her panties and pulled them to the side. The sight of her wet heat made his mouth water. Any other time, he’d drop to his knees right then and there to have his fill, but it wasn’t what they needed the most right now. Right now, he needed to be inside of her, just as much as she needed to feel him there. He held the base of his erection and traced the swollen head through her folds, mouth agape and almost drooling as his eyes rolled to the back of his head in ecstasy.

“Fuck, honey. So wet for me.”

She gasped when the tip of his cock caught at her slick opening. The delicious burn from the stretch she felt as he pushed forward inside of her stole the breath from her lungs. They both watched as he crossed the threshold and buried himself deep inside of her. Breathy moans and whimpers of lust echoed through the room, and Sy took a moment to let her catch her breath again.

“Fuck, baby…”

She met his gaze once more, eyes wide and full of fire as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. Sy tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, choosing to indulge her for a while, until he just couldn’t take it anymore. His retreat was nice and slow, but he didn’t pull out all of the way. Tugging her head back roughly, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and relished in the way she tensed around him. Nipping at her throat, he growled against her pulse and smirked. “So tight, honey. I’m not gonna last long.”

She answered with the rake of her nails down his back, leaving tender, pink lines in their wake, then dug them into the flesh of his bare ass. Shoving herself back onto his cock, she groaned loudly.

“Don’t tease me, Clay. I need you.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. With a harsh thrust of his hips, he bottomed out completely. Sy held her down by the waist as he took what he wanted from her. In and out, over and over, he pounded into her with a fervor she’d never seen before. Their lust was wild and sinful as he stood there at the counter and fucked her into a mindless mess. A familiar tightness built somewhere deep in her gut, and before she could warn him, she was coming undone. Her eyes filled with tears, filled with so much emotion, then spilled down her cheeks in hot, furious streams.

It didn’t stop there. He had her again on the couch, and again against the front door, then once more upstairs in their room. The bed creaked under their shifting weight. Sweat poured from his face as he held one of her legs over his shoulder. Merrin clung to the sheets beneath her as he approached another climax. Just when she thought she couldn’t handle any more, he proved her wrong.

“Come on, sugar,” he begged, wiped his brow with the back of his hand and picked up the pace. “Gimme one more. Just one more.”

He’d been saying that for hours, but this time, he was telling the truth. His muscles ached and cramped, his body pleaded with him to give it up, but he was determined to make this a night to remember. He’d be gone for God knows how long; he wanted to make sure she’d had her fill before he left. Sy kept his promise and within seconds, he crashed over the edge of climax right along with her. Chests heaving and voices hoarse, they rode out their highs together and collapsed into a heap of tangled limbs. Sy stared up at the ceiling as he fought to regain composure and felt her curl up against his side. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Merrin held up a hand up and they smacked palms, victorious in their conquest. All qualms were forgotten, at least for a little while.

“High five.”

“Good sex.”

Standing at the sink, a towel wrapped around his waist, Sy stared at himself in the mirror. He scratched at his chin and turned his head from side to side, then flipped the switch on the side of the clippers. The first pass up the underside of his chin took off most of the length. He dusted a tuft of fuzz from the guards and let it fall into the basin before him. Sy made quick work of taking it all off, then grabbed the shaving cream to smooth over the stubble left behind. He moved with a surgeon's precision, each drag of the razor taking away the foam and leaving baby-smooth skin behind. Once he was finished, he bent down and filled his hands with warm water to wash his face. Just as he reached for the aftershave in the medicine cabinet, two delicate arms wrapped around his middle and squeezed gently. He brought one of them up and pressed her knuckles to his lips, kissing them as he spoke.

“What’re you doin’ up?”

Merrin yawned against his back and nuzzled her face there. Her eyes were heavy with the sleep that she just couldn’t shake. He reached back to run his fingers through her hair, twirling and twisting strands of amber around calloused fingertips as they stood in a shared silence. She raked her nails through the hair on his chest and dug them into hardened flesh, putting up a weak fight to keep him there for just a little while longer. “Couldn’t sleep,” was all she said as another roll of thunder echoed somewhere off in the distance. Sy glanced back at her from over his shoulder and found her staring up at him. She traced his cheekbone and down to the line of his jaw, mesmerized by the clean-shaven stranger who stood before her now.

“Most men grow a beard to hide their faces. You, though…” she pressed her thumb into the dimple on his chin. “You’ve got nothing to hide.”

She left him there with a gentle pat to the chest, then turned to head back into the bedroom. He watched her as she went, wearing nothing but the cheeky little splash of ink that was tatted across the dimples on her lower back and the panties that rested beneath them. A drunken mistake from Spring Breaks of old, left to peak from beneath low-rise jeans as a reminder of wilder days. Sy chuckled to himself and shook his head. He could hardly handle her now; if they’d met back then, he could only imagine the trouble she’d get him into. She’d have eaten him alive.

To his dismay, traffic was fairly light on their way to the airport. The skies above were a dusty shade of blue, vast and empty as the rising sun chased away the rain. Fields of wheat and grain blurred past on either side as they left their sleepy little town in the rear view. Sy drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting in her lap. Every now and then he’d hold her thigh, knead and squeeze, then cut his eyes from the road and over to her in silent reassurance. Every radio station from here to Houston seemed to play nothing but love songs, and each one salted the wound just a little bit more. Merrin tried to surf from station to station, genre to genre, but eventually gave up, so they rode in silence instead.

Sy didn’t mind the quiet. It felt more honest than anything he could say now. “It’ll be alright, honey.” “We’ll write every day.” “I’ll be home before you know it.” He couldn’t guarantee anything, and they both knew that.

Once they’d made it past security, Sy found a bench to sit on and dropped his bag at his feet. When he looked over to her, she was staring off somewhere in the distance, a million miles away again. To her, this felt like punishment. Like the universe had nothing better to do than shit on the best relationship she’d ever had. Karma had finally caught up to her, and this was how she was meant to pay for her transgressions.

“This isn’t fair.”

Clayton sighed and took her hand into his. “I’m sorry, darlin’. Life isn’t–” She cut him off.

“Don’t you dare tell me that life isn’t fair. I know life isn’t fair. This is…” Merrin shook her head. “This is cruel.”

He tried to smile, to crack a joke, to lighten the mood, but one look at her shut it all down. She was right. He’d been on the verge of hanging it up, of finally giving in and taking that cushy desk job at base to be closer to his mama, but his pride had gotten in the way. He knew he had at least one more deployment in him. One more, and he’d give it up for good. He just wasn’t expecting it to be so soon.

Everything had changed, now that he had Merrin. She was everything that he wasn’t. Gentle, but not easy to mislead; Stubborn, but only when necessary; Kind-hearted to those in need; and so fucking sweet. Now, he fought for her. If this it took to keep her safe, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Now, he had someone worth fighting for.

Wrapping her up tightly, Sy held her to his chest and buried his face in her hair. He pressed a fierce kiss to the top of her head and let his eyes close for a moment. They held each other just like that until his flight was called. Then they walked the Green Mile all the way down to the gate, where he pulled her aside and took her hands into both of his. His eyes searched hers desperately in a last ditch effort to commit them to memory. Shades of blue and green, specks of gold around the iris, as wild as the tide and as vast as the sea. When he kissed her, it was deep and lascivious. He didn’t care who saw. Fuck ‘em. Let them look. Sy broke his kiss and pressed his forehead to hers, dug the end of his crooked nose into her cheek and breathed her in for as long as he could.

“I love you, Merrin Paige. More than you’ll ever know.”

His words stole the breath from her chest. Three little words she never expected to hear him say. Three little words that paralyzed her, right where she stood. He kissed her cheek one last time, grabbed his bags, and headed off to catch his flight. Merrin watched from the window as the plane taxied at the end of the runway. A light drizzle began to sputter outside, just enough to blur her vision as the plane disappeared high into the clouds. Just like that, he was gone.

It never rains in Texas, but it did on the morning of Sy’s inevitable departure. It never rains in Texas, and today, Merrin hated the rain.

Far from home, Sy checked his watch as he waited for the line to ring. Static crackled in his ear as he cradled the phone between his head and his shoulder. 2pm in Baqubah; 10pm in Houston. If he was right, she’d still be up. Probably curled up in bed with a book, one of those dirty little romances she liked so much. Leaning back in his chair, he stretched and moaned. If Texas was hot, then this was hell.

Then, a click. The old desk chair groaned when he sat up straight. He listened for a moment, waiting for someone to answer, then checked the signal to make sure that the call had gone through. Fuck. Don’t let it be the answering machine.

“Sy?” a sweet voice chirped over the static. He sighed, relieved, and smiled widely at the sound of his name.

“Yeah, baby,” he breathed. “It's me. How’s it–”

She cut him off. What she had to say couldn’t wait.

“I love you too.”

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eneablack · 9 months

Text

I SHIFTED TO HOTEL TRANSYLVANIA

before the shift:

i watched hotel transylvania 4 with my cousin and my mind instantly went “i love these movies i really gotta shift there, it would be so cool” and i went to sleep making scenarios of me in that reality without actually trying or putting effort (mind that i had a script for that reality made like a year ago but i forgot about that so i just went into the shift while basically being blindfolded lol) but i mean, it worked.

︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶

the shift:

i didn’t realise i shifted till like one hour later, i woke up in my supposedly room and the walls were a darker shade with bricks/stones, as i said i didn’t notice the change because it was just normal to be there so i just went to change in some clothes and get ready to go downstairs. then i went to the dining hall and had breakfast with a friend called Victor (he’s not in the movies) and my sister Mavis (she’s my twin sister actually, we look a lot like each other but the difference is that she’s a girl with black hair and i’m a boy with white hair lol). after that i went back to my room and did my daily tarot reading, and when i was reading my cards that’s when i realised i had shifted (tarot cards are not like in this reality, they tell you way more and are like magical if you’re a witch).

︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶

some facts about that reality:

my name was Aineías Dracula and i was a half vampire half witch, son of Count Dracula and Martha Dracula (she was half witch too)

it was the 18th november 1840 when i shifted there so two days before my birthday (i apparently had to become 120 years old)

for some reason the hotel was in italy (where i live in cr)

i was friends with everyone in the hotel because, contrary to cr, i made my presence very seen and had good social skills. i had a best friend called Victor and he was the son of Frankenstein, he was around my age and he was very tall.

︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶

the young man i met:

the night of my birthday, the 20th, i sneaked out and went to a little village some kilometres away from the hotel, and there i met a boy. i was trying to fit in with the few humans that were there, even if i was lowkey scared but mostly excited, and i stumbled across this goldsmith shop. it had such amazing pieces of jewellery so i was with my palm all over the glass trying to get a closer look at a ruby necklace. but then i heard a gentle low voice telling me to step away from the glass and when i look over the dispay window i see this young man looking at me, so i excused myself but he asked something like if i was interested in any of the pieces and stood up to come closer to me.

i was unsure whether to stay there as my dad would’ve killed me if he found out, but i felt adrenaline at that moment and tbh the boy looked nice and genuine so i just stayed still and nodded, so he started showing me different necklaces with some beautiful stones. i was really interested in the ruby one but then i remembered i didn’t have anything to pay with, so i was about to leave when he asked if i wasn’t from there, and then we just started conversating.

he was named Ilya and he was a human of course, he told me he was half russian and had to migrate because of some illness infestation and his dad was italian so they moved here. he was around 24 years old and he had jet black long hair, with very dark eyes.

after some time i had to go back and as i was going he told me he could not give me the nacklace for free even if it was my birthday lol but instead i could decide for a small stone, but i didn’t really knew which one to choose so when i just let him decide he gave me a small malachite telling me it was my birthstone and it was his favourite when he was back in russia. then we said goodbye and that was it.

#shifting realities #reality shifting #desired reality #shifting #shifted #shifting stories #success story #hotel transylvania #shifting to hotel transylvania

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