Transcript:
No... How can this be?
Daddy’s favorite wine sippy cup...
Now I’m going to have to drink it out of the box like a fucking animal!
You’ve taken everything from me, Machine.
And now we’re going to get drunk together.
That’s right, the only way to repay me for your sins and the breaking of my favorite wine glass, is to finish off this box of wine with me!
And we’re going to have conversations that we think are deep only because we're drunk off our asses.
And by dawn's light, who knows, maybe enemies will be turned into…
EVEN STRONGER FUCKING ENEMIES I’M GOING TO KILL YOU.
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snippet sunday
hi friends, i'm gonna share something i've shared before because i LIKE it a lot + buck being a demanding bossy bottom is sooo good (but pls dw eddie gets his turn at being a sloppy silly bottom too and he's SO hot for it)
anyway this is nsfw
“Buck, baby. I want to ask you something.”
Buck nods wildly, knocking his nose against Eddie’s in his fervor. “Fuck and talk at the same time.” He reaches down and grabs hold of Eddie’s ass with both hands, squeezing and pinching as he lifts his hips up to fuck himself on Eddie’s cock. “C’mon, Eds. Be a—a good boy for me. Fuck me—fuck me please.”
Bubbles of static electricity swarm Eddie, springing from each point of contact between them and ricocheting to every untouched inch of his body. He drops down heavily, blanketing Buck’s body with his own, and fucks hard and sloppy and eager. Buck muffles a hiccuped moan against the scruff of Eddie’s cheek, breathy and pitched high. Eddie grins, mollified.
“Like that, baby?”
“Yeah,” Buck grunts, panting against Eddie’s cheek. He wraps his legs around Eddie’s waist, kicking him closer and deeper with his heels, and meets Eddie’s thrusts with little ones of his own. “Yeah, fuck, like that. Just like that.”
Eddie finds Buck’s lips, eating the mewls that fall from Buck’s mouth. It’s little sobs of too-good, too-sharp pleasure; a staccato of breaths that get stuck in his chest on each withdraw and shoved out on every thrust forward. Eddie’s so deep inside Buck—he can feel himself, right up in Buck’s guts, beneath the muscle and fat of Buck’s tummy where his prick’s at, twitching from friction and sensation.
“Buck,” he says, smearing Buck’s name all along Buck’s cheek and throat and chin. They’re so wet, so sweaty, that Buck can’t get a good grip on his back to scratch his nails in without slipping. “Buck, baby. Marry me. Please marry me.”
Beneath him, Buck’s body jolts. “Goddamn, Eddie,” Buck swears, but it kind of feels like a benediction, a prayer sweeter than any he’s every heard. Buck cradles his cheeks in both hands and sucks on his tongue, loud and free in his pleasure. He laughs like sunshine. “No.”
i was tagged by @hippolotamus, @try-set-me-on-fire, @callaplums, @thewolvesof1998, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @exhuastedpigeon, @honestlydarkprincess, @jesuisici33, @wikiangela, and @daffi-990 mwaH MWAH
and i'm tagging @watchyourbuck, @eddiediaztho, @fortheloveofbuddie, @callmenewbie, and whoever else wants to share consider yourself tagged 🫶🏼
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actually I am going to talk about jamie not being able to shoot the zombie in the age of ambition like. he's holding a gun. he's faced with something which is human-shaped but no longer a human, which is actively posing a threat to him and his friends. and he just freezes. he can't do anything.
and we never see jamie shying away from combat with non-human/non-humanoid enemies. he's happy enough to destroy the quarks, for instance. and he'll get into fights with humans/humanoid beings if it's non-lethal. but he actively turns down weapons when he gets into a fight with one of the gonds. the most we ever see him do is swordfight with trask at the end of the highlanders. and even there, he doesn't actively /kill/ - he pushes trask overboard. clearly that's not a death sentence, seeing as ben had already survived the same swim back to shore. and if trask does end up dying? jamie won't necessarily know about it. he's not directly responsible.
so I just think. jamie, who never killed anyone in the war. jamie, who's a piper, who's a musician rather than a soldier. he's not unable to fight, because he duels trask, and he's not afraid to threaten people, because he holds two and ben and polly at knifepoint. he's not naive, because he stands at the window and watches alexander die. but he's never killed anyone himself. jamie, who's consumed with survivor's guilt, always wondering if he should have done more, if his cowardice ever condemned someone else to death - but also always knowing that he could never have done it, being sickened by the part of him that feels guilty for having no blood on his hands.
jamie, who looks into the eyes of something that's not even human anymore, and can't look away, and can't pull the trigger.
and what does that do to him, then? months, maybe a year after he's left his war behind? he stands there with a weapon in his hands and he can't bring himself to defend two of the people he loves most in the world. victoria has to grab the gun out of his hands and do it for him. this young girl who he's fiercely protective of has to shoot someone, all because he can't. there's blood on her hands, now, and none on his. he wishes he could have been the one to take that shot, to carry that burden for her, and even then he can't help but hate himself for wishing. he's trapped there forever. the feeling goes round and round in circles and it never ever goes away.
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