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#had to evacuate due to the fires

not-poignant · 5 months

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I hope you have a lovely day with lots of snacks

Tl;dr the day was not lovely but there might be snacks

I actually didn't have many snacks today but I'm about to make up with it with a couple of churros and dark chocolate dipped strawberries.

Today I...woke up and showered and replied to comments on AO3 for a while, and then I spent about 4 hours formatting documents into PDFs of varying sizes for Patreon and Ream and uploading chapter commentaries into compilations. And then I did more formatting stuff behind the scenes while I stared at all the other behind the scenes stuff I need to do and thought 'writing is a hard job' quietly and intensely.

I ate lunch while I was working. I also made some memes about how overwhelmed I felt, and then made some for my readers too, lol.

And then I laid down for about 4 hours because I also have chronic illness (whee) and I am constantly in pain and varying degrees of fatigue and I literally must lie down every afternoon so I don't collapse in the evening (literally) - and I did a tiny bit of reading (webtoon: Shutline (which I immediately realised I'd read before and didn't fondly remember), webtoon: December (didn't mind this)) and then dozed restlessly because it was 40C/104F today. I also edited a Tiktok art video in Adobe Premier Rush, but I haven't put it up yet, and I should really do that.

Got up and made ham and cucumber sandwiches for dinner, and watched Girl with the Dogs on YouTube while I ate, and a Smosh video.

Then did some more work and helped a friend with her work stuff, and then I watered the garden for 1.5 hours because *points tiredly to the heatwave* and stared balefully at the dark sky (you can't water during the day - it's literally a heatwave but also it's illegal here to water during the day) with its few stars because they'd set up a severe weather warning due to extreme winds in our specific area and it was dead AF and oppressive out there and it was just hot instead.

I watched a few Tiktoks while I watered.

When I hung the hose up back on the holder thingo, I sang to my plants: 'I hope you make the best out of the water I just gave you, you little fucks' like a sweet lullaby, and a person who I didn't know was outside next door because it was like 9pm and pitch black laughed softly and sweetly, like they didn't expect it, and felt kind of fond. I didn't know I had any nice neighbours on that side of the house, so I mostly just thought 'WHOOPS SHIT' and then felt too embarrassed to say anything.

And then I came back inside and replied to some asks (hi!) and am hopefully going to eat churro's soon and it's 10pm and so I'm probably going to do some more work and then I'm going to go to bed while I feel stressed about the work I haven't done (currently Palmarosa is the heart beating beneath my floorboards). I will probably keep reading December. It's okayish.

I don't know if I'd call today lovely, because I'm burnt out and I want to put up the Christmas decorations but it's 10pm and idk if I should start that because it tends to make me severely ill to do it for a few days.

I'm a little sad, a lot lonely, a little melancholic, a little grumpy, and a little very excited about churros and chocolate dipped strawberries. I resent days that are 'work and sleep' sometimes, especially during November. That's my fault. That's on me. I'm a mean and shitty boss to myself.

Gotta do something about this burnout at some point, because December is the worst month for my PTSD, but I also need to keep getting paid, because medical bills and food and stuff. So like...finding the balance there is a constant work in progress.

There were some lovely moments today:

That little laugh from the neighbour in the dark

The first yellow peach of the season

Doing tricks with my cat (who is trained) for treats

Making silly little memes

Helping a friend with work stuff

Replying to some amazing comments

Watching cute dogs

Feeling pretty accomplished at putting up those compilations on Patreon/Ream even if I'm not done yet.

I hope you're having a lovely day too, anon, with many snacks.

#asks and answers #personal #i have not had a lovely day in a while #a member of my family died suddenly this week #suddenly and unexpectedly #and within 12 hours #two other members of my family directly impacted by this death #had to evacuate due to the fires #and idk if they can go home yet #i don't think they can but the fire has at least been downgraded #i am burnt out and sad #yesterday between working on writing stuff #i photoshopped photos of my uncle for my mum #for the funeral home #to make them nicer alkfjsa so that she doesn't have to pay someone to do this #i might delete this later y'all this might be a little too real #but sometimes it doesn't hurt maybe for people to know i'm human #hell sometimes it doesn't hurt for *me* to remember i'm human dslkfjasd

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assortedvillainvault · 2 years

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Chance anon here! Just checking that you haven’t melted/burnt away!

Hiya Chance! Sorry I didn't respond sooner I had my computer unplugged and in storage during the heat to prevent it from crashing. Your advice was super helpful and we no longer feel like evacuating our skin which is great, though we had some bloody close calls with fires near me so that's less great.

#boss's place had a power cut and the fire stop literally across the road from her House #other friends were evacuated due to smoke and proximity #idiots treating this like a holiday then wondering why the moors are on fire #its because shits dry as a tinderbox and youre out there smoking and having £5 shitass barbecues on the grass and now your neighbours have #nowhere to fucking live #no fire safety knowledge in the uk except call the firemen and hope it rains #thalassa responds #sorry for the rant

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stil-lindigo · 2 months

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Ahmed Saad or @/90-ghost's brother in law is currently doing his best to organise the evacuation of his family from Gaza. This family suffers from a combination of ailments that all require medical attention. This is the description on their GFM page:

Hello, I hope you all are doing well!

My name is Mohamed Monir Ahmad Mahmoud, I’m a hemophilia patient from Gaza. I decided to start this campaign with all the hope that you could support me in evacuating Gaza to do surgery for me and my daughter and start a fresh life with my 5 kids out of the ongoing genocide in Gaza [...] I was supposed to go out at the end of 2023 to have surgery on my knees but since 7 October, I had no chance due to the procedures on Rafah crossing, the gate of Gazans to the world. Now, my knees and elbows are bleeding with no access to any type of care and if things stand as they are in Gaza, I won’t be able to walk or make any effort because of the bleeding (currently I am barely able to set up a small fire in front of the tent to prepare food for my kids).

What I ask is 60,000, for travel costs because each one would need to pay 5,000-8,000$ to be allowed to leave Gaza through Rafah crossing and we need around 3000$ more in Egypt for our stay and to obtain visas. We will be heading to Brazil where my brother Diaa lives and there is a huge chance to do the surgeries and access health care as the health care for Hemophilia patients in Brazil is one of the most advanced in the world.

please give generously!!

#theyre only at a fraction through their progress #after ahmed's success story getting his money #i hope tumblr can muster up enough generosity to help these folks out too #palestine #free palestine #free rafah #free gaza #rafah #mutual aid #donations

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buckaroosboogara · 3 months

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Hi! Just wanna raise some awareness here because South America is on fucking fire and I need to see more people talking about this.

Source: RSOE EDIS x

Im just going to talk about the ones i'm closest to, but if you know about these fires, feel free to add in the reblogs!

Chile

In Chile there's (up to Feb 5) 160 wild fires, of which 40 are still trying to be controlled by authorities. The president, Gabriel Boric, has declared State of Emergency in the whole country, and theres a Red Alert Code in most part of the country.

Isla de Chiloé, Southern Chile (900 km away from Santiago de Chile)

This is a (recently controlled) fire that lasted a week, but many neighborhoods were burnt to the ground.

The whole South is in red alert for constant sudden fires that spread quickly due to the lack of rain and the elevated temperatues in the zone. Just today, two fires had to be controlled in the main land next to this island, and more are being reported in the Los Lagos region. This is added to the "controlled" intentional fires that farmers make to clean their fields of old crops along the Central-South parts of the country, mostly surrunding the main route, Ruta 5, that connects the whole country, thus making it hard to see and breathe because of the smoke. (flashnews, most of them get out of control quickly.)

Valparaiso/Viña del Mar, Central Chile (100 km away from Santiago de Chile)

A fire that started on Friday 2nd and grew exponentially because of the wind and the dry, hot climate. More than 100 people are dead, with 70 unrecognized bodies and other 400 that have dissapeared. At least 30000 people that have lost everything to the fire.

There's massive evacuations from this and the neighboring city, Viña Del Mar.

This is said to be the second most deadly fire in the century, surpased by Australia in 2009.

45000+ hectares that include land and neighborhoods have been burnt down.

I could go on about this one, so more info here and here

Argentina

Parque Los Alerces (Esquel), Chubut

The fire strarted on the 25th January, and the climate has made it hard to contain. 3000 hectares of native forest have been burnt to teh ground. It is now growing in the direction of the nearest city, Esquel. Theres been evacuations between yesterday and today (4 and 5th Febuary)

Parque Nahuel Huapi (Bariloche), Río Negro

The reason why im writing this. The city woke up today covered in smoke after a wildfire developed yesterday during the night. The reason? A fireplace that was not turned off in a place where people cannot disembark and can only be reached via boats.

As of now, there's not much information about the fire but hopefully the firefighters will be able to contain it before it reaches Tronador Mountain, where an ancient glaciar is.

...which leads me to the other point i wanted to talk about.

Firefighters

They volunteer to do this job.

In Argentina and Chile, firefighting is not rewarded with a salary, and most of the times they dont even have full firehouses to stay in. These people are at their houses, ready to jump into action and run to the station the second the alarm goes off.

They are neighbors, people that risk their lives and run into danger willingly, just because they want to help the community.

I felt the need to give a shout-out to these people and say:

Don't be a fucking dick, don't start fires in the woods unless it's an approved place, and if you do, TURN IT OFF.

Pour abundant water on it, and do not stop when you don't see any more flames.

Keep pouring water until the ashes don't burn/feel like room temperature in your hand if you put it 10 cm away from it, and even then, pour some more just to be sure.

No heat and no smoke mean a safely extinguished fire.

Save lives and forests.

#dont even get me started on the denial of climate change from my president #didnt wanna get political here #argentina #chile #argieposting #argieblr #soff speaks #wildfires

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sayruq · 5 months

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So, I've had people asking, why does it matter if rockets are fired towards Tel Aviv and other settlements when they cause a fraction of the damage done by an Israeli missile?

Psychological warfare - the rocket barrages eliminate any sense of security that Israelis might have during the war. It reminds them that there's a price for the occupation of Palestine. I can't tell you how many videos I've seen of people in luxury resorts and other high class lodgings shouting and fleeing in fear at a rocket from Gaza or Yemen. It makes it hard for them to go about their daily life ignoring what is happening. Furthermore it undermines the strength of the IDF. Netanyahu can go on TV and claim to have complete control over Gaza but a rocket barrage undoes that easily. A rocket barrage tells Israelis and the rest of the world that not only is Hamas (and the other groups) still intact, it has enough of a stockpile to still bomb parts of Israel over 50 days into the conflict. Israeli media is constantly shocked every time this happens because there's always the assumption that Palestinians are unprepared in every way for the conflict we're seeing today. It forces them to take the threat posed by the Resistance very seriously which of course leads to the existential meltdowns you see on Israeli social media accounts.

De-settlement - There are hundreds of thousands of internally displaced settlers right now. Most of them are unwilling to return because the settlements are still getting hit and it's obvious the IDF is struggling to get things under control. The annexation of Palestinian land and the formation of settlements has led to a great deal of violence towards Palestinians in both Gaza and the West Bank. Hence, why forcing settlers to evacuate is seen as a great success by the Resistance and their supporters. Hezbollah, for example, has mentioned that several times while doing debriefs of their efforts in the conflict

Hits to the economy - if the settlers are evacuated, who will run local businesses? Not to mention underpaid and overworked foreign migrant workers have fled the country while exploited Gazan workers are trapped in Gaza. Israel is trying to combat this by making deals with countries like India and Mali to get tens of thousands of workers but it's not going to be enough especially the longer this conflict goes on. There's also the fact that tourism won't recover to pre war levels due to security concerns. The same thing with foreign capital leaving the country. Israel is too unstable and evidently incapable of regaining that stability (by quickly defeating the Palestinian resistance) which makes it risky to invest in Israeli businesses.

Logistical nightmare - Gazan rockets are cheap to produce, Israeli interceptor missiles are not. Israel is spending more to stop the barrages of rockets than the Resistance has spent probably in the past 5 years. It's the same issue on the Northern border to Lebanon and whenever Yemen sends its long range missiles. It's not like both Israel, America and Europe have endless supplies of weapons and ammunition, they sent most of their stockpiles to Ukraine. The longer this goes on, the more dire things will get but we're already seeing the strain

#yemen #jerusalem #tel aviv #current events #palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #news on gaza #palestine news #war on gaza #war news

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lambentplume · 9 months

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Maui Fires & How to Support Relief Efforts

(Posted on 8/10/23) Hi, I'm Jae and my family is from Lāhainā. I watched my hometown burn down this week. The fires caused immeasurable loss in my community so I'd like to spread awareness of the situation as well as provide links to support local organizations directly assisting survivors. I'm pretty sure most of my following is Not local so I'm writing with intent to inform people outside the situation, but if you're reading this and happen to have family in the affected area that isn't accounted for, message me and I can send you the links to the missing persons tracking docs + more localized info!! If you'd like to skip down to how to help and follow community organizations, scroll to the bottom of the post after the image.

Earlier this week, Hurricane Dora passed south of the Hawaiian Islands, bringing strong wind gusts that caused property damage across the islands. On Tuesday August 8, high winds caused sparks to fly in the middle of Lāhainā town, knocking out power lines and immediately igniting drought-ridden grasses. The fire spread quickly and destroyed the entire center of town, the harbor, and multiple neighborhoods including Hawaiian Homes (housing specifically for Native Hawaiians), parts of Lahainaluna, basically all of Front Street, and low-income housing units. There is only one public road in and out of town, and after a very hectic evacuation period that road has been mostly closed off except to emergency responders, thus it is extremely difficult for anyone to leave town to get help. The nearest hospital is 20 miles away in Wailuku, and most grocery stores in town have burnt down.

As of Thursday, August 10, over 1,000 acres have been burned and 271 structures (including homes, schools, and other community gathering places) have been destroyed. Cell service is still extremely spotty, many of the surrounding neighborhoods deemed safe for evacuees are still without utilities. There are currently confirmed 53 deaths but that number is expected to increase as search-and-rescue efforts continue. Countless families have been displaced and many have lost the homes they lived in for generations. Places of deep historical significance have been reduced to ash, including the gravesites of Hawaiian royalty, the old Lāhainā courthouse where items of cultural significance were stored, and Na ‘Aikane o Maui Cultural Center. To add further context: Lāhainā has a population of about 13,000 residents. EVERYONE I know has been impacted in some way--at best forced to evacuate, at worst their house was burnt to the foundation, they cannot find a loved one, etc. I'm still trying to track down family members and it's been over two days. My neighbors down the street had homes last week and now many don't have ANYTHING. The hotels are taking in residents (tourists are also being STRONGLY urged to leave so that locals can recover). Without open access to the rest of the island, Lāhainā residents are now dependent on whatever people had in their homes already as well as disaster relief efforts coming in, but it's been difficult to organize and mobilize due to the location + conditions. People who have made it out are in shelters where no blankets or medicine were provided. Friends and acquaintances from neighbor islands are preparing aid to send over. Community response has been incredible, but the toll on the town has been immeasurable. My parents were desperately walking through town yesterday, my mom sounded absolutely hollow talking about it on the phone with me. It's horrifying. Below is a satellite map with data from the NASA Fire Information for Resource Management System showing the impacted areas from the past week; all of the red blotches were on fire at some point in the last three days.

Here are ways you can help:

If you have the means to donate:

Here are three donation sites verified by Maui Rapid Response, which also lists FAQs for people who are wondering about next steps.

Hawaiʻi Community Foundation - Maui Strong Fund accepts international credit cards. Maui United Way

Maui Mutual Aid Non-monetary ways to support:

If you know anyone who is planning to travel to ANY Hawaiian island, not just Maui, tell them to cancel their trip. Resources are extremely limited as is. Advocate for climate change mitigation efforts locally, wherever that is for you. The fire was exacerbated by drought conditions that have worsened due to climate change.

Lastly, remember that these are people's HOMES that burned, and Native Hawaiian cultural artifacts that have been lost. Stop thinking of Hawaiʻi (or any "tourist destination" location, really) as an "escape" or a "paradise." If that's the only way you recognized my home... I'm glad I got your attention somehow, but I would ask that you challenge that perspective and prioritize local and native voices. For transparency, I don't currently live in Lāhainā, I've been following efforts from Honolulu. My parents and brother have been updating me and I've been following friends and family who are doing immediate response work. I'm doing my best to find reliable and current sources, but if I need to update something, please let me know. If you're going to try to convince me that tourism is necessary for our recovery, news flash ***IT'S NOT***!

Thanks for reading.

#please feel free to reblog! i don't know how tagging works here anymore!#maui fires #officially reported death count increased WHILE I WAS WRITING THE POST btw. this is bonkers.#if you want to start tourism discourse in my inbox you have to donate the cost of a plane ticket and send a screenshot to me #i have sources at the ready btw. i'd say don't try me but i mean my hometown could use a couple hundred bucks!!

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syneilesis · 3 months

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[fic] Pampertime

Pampertime

Love and Deepspace | Xavier (Shen Xinghui) x Main-Character!Reader | Explicit | 6.7k words | ao3 link

Butler Rule No. 1: From the moment you accept the role, be prepared to obey your lady’s every command. The bunny butler outfit makes a grand return. In bed.

Content tags: Established Relationship, PWP, Roleplay, Bunny Butler Xavier, Dom/sub elements, Sub!Xavier, Strip Tease, Hand Jobs, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Cowgirl Position, Riding, PIV sex, Creampie

A/N: My contribution to the bunny butler Xavier train. Only gave a cursory edit once, so any mistakes still my fault. I'm just glad I'm done, whatever. Divider by @/saradika

One bright and sunny afternoon, Xavier texts you: Emergency can U come up here to help me?

You're in the middle of cleaning your living room, after weeks of neglecting your household responsibilities due to the sudden influx of Wanderers in the neighboring city. The Hunters Association had been scrambling to send out their hunters due to the sudden invasion of Wanderers that resembled bafflingly like corgis—which was both a blessing and a curse, if one were to be asked. Blessing because, well, they were a breed that incited cute aggression and fluffiness, and civilian evacuation had resulted in minimal problems, if one ignores the influx of people into doglike Wanderers. A curse, because—well, they did look like corgis—fluffy like a bread with a cute butt, the kind that you would expect to see in the plushie line sold at Twinkle Toys Store. They're irresistible to drag your hand across their soft coat. A not-inconsiderable number of hunters realized the error of their ways in overlooking the fact that these floof of creatures were still Wanderers, and as a consequence, Linkon hospitals suddenly found themselves busier for a week or two.

Regardless, the corgi Wanderers were easy to take care of, once you saw past their clever ruse. The difficulty lay in the numbers. Like a relentless tsunami flooding the city, they undulate in droves, shaking their butts and bouncing around and generally making an oxymoronically cute menace of themselves.

As one of the hunters dispatched to the area, you valiantly resisted the siren cute-call and eliminated as many as you could. It took you and your team more than a week, and it would have been shorter than that, had Xavier been in the fray. But he had been sent in another region the week before, and was unable to join you in your fluff-filled resistance.

But now it seems that he's back and is in need of your assistance. Flashback to that time when his oven exploded due to his attempt at baking tarts, and you drop everything you're doing and fly outside, towards the elevator, fueled by fear and sheer panic.

When you burst into his apartment, using the spare key he left you, you cry out, “Xavier! Sitrep!”

A cursory survey of the area indicate neither fire nor flood, and his apartment seems undamaged. Fear subsiding, you finally take stock of the situation.

Perhaps it's not a kitchen emergency after all? There’s no smell of something burning, thank heavens for that. You do not want to apologize to his neighbors in his place again.

You call once more, “Xavier?”

“In here.”

His voice is coming from the bedroom, and that makes you waver. Why is he still in his bedroom? Maybe he's stuck in bed? Did he sleep for three days and wake up in an unusual position and in need of assistance to set back his limbs again? Weirder and weirder thoughts spiral in your head, and your lack of response prompts him to speak once more.

“You can go in, if that's what stops you.”

“Why can't you just go out?”

“I ... can't.”

The hesitation captures your attention. Xavier is probably entangled in the bed. You may as well help him.

“All right, I'm coming in then.”

When you open the door, you're expecting some sort of layers and layers of blankets, a sea of them, not just on the bed but also on the floor and other furniture. Xavier might be underneath in any of those blankets, and it's your duty to locate him and fish him out. You're ready to swim against these blankets, fight your way into it. Do your utmost duty as a combat partner.

Except.

Except it's not a sea of blankets that welcome you once you enter the room. It's—different.

So different.

So utterly different that you drop your phone. It clatters muffled against the carpeted floor, where it slightly nudges a gift-wrapped box. And that gift-wrapped box sits next to another gift-wrapped box, and another. And another. Until you lift your widening gaze to see that Xavier's bedroom is littered with a lot of them. And Xavier—

He's on the bed, all right. But he's—

He grins lightly, leaning back from his sprawled position. The pillows behind him sink under his weight.

“Kjalfjdsj?” you say, eloquently.

“I'm glad you came ...” A pregnant pause, before he drops the bomb. “My lady.”

Your brain short-circuits.

Xavier is sprawled on the bed, bunny ears on his head, waistcoat and tie, and—you just know, you can feel it in your bones—bunny tail on behind. It's exactly what he wore when you had your couple's photos back then. The fact that he's wearing it and, judging by the sudden change of interior design of his room, that he's replicated the decoration of the studio—actually, you don't know what you can glean from those points, because you're too busy picking up the remains of your brain matter to form a coherent thought.

He drops another bomb: “Why are you just standing there, my lady?” he says, and going by the quirk of his lips he knows the effect he has on you. Compared with the first time it happened, the shy reluctance is no longer present. “This bunny butler is ready to serve, just say the word.”

Your brain melts.

“Wha—I mean—um, guh—” You studiously reacquaint yourself with the concept of words. “I just—what is going on?”

Xavier blinks, and the bunny ears on top of his head twitch as if they are truly connected to his head. Your fingers twitch themselves in response, that urge to touch and feel them again.

“I just thought,” he begins, slowly at first as if testing the waters, “that you need to relax and get pampered after that difficult mission you've just had.”

The words percolate in your mind and you scrabble for an appropriate reply to that. To be fair to the man, Xavier is sweet thinking of your well-being like that. Or maybe he's guilty that he wasn't there to help during that corgipocalypse of a week. Regardless of his intent, you have to ask:

“You thought I need to relax and your solution is to dress up as a bunny butler?”

He has the gall to think about it at length. “Yes, my lady.”

You don't miss the way he spreads his legs a little wider at that.

And really—you're only human, with wants and needs and desires. It just so happens that the common denominator of those three aspects point to the ridiculous man before you, in that ridiculous bunny butler getup that you secretly love and hope to see again. Which—yeah, it's definitely the perfect solution.

Stomping your hesitation and pride, you stride towards the bed, and Xavier, watching your every step, reclines further, giving you space for you to place your knee on the soft mattress, between his legs.

The bedfoam dips, and he shifts to avoid sinking down the indent your knee makes. Your other knee follows, and you move towards him until the heat of his inner thighs touch the outer sides of yours.

At the proximity between the two of you, Xavier tips forward, and in spite of your positions he doesn't need to tilt his head much upward to meet your deliberating gaze. An anticipatory sharpness falls on his expression and, oh, you realize, he must've wanted this too.

Which is all that you need to fall into this completely.

And it's a transformation: a reshifting of limbs and the straightening of spine, something like a lock unlatching.

“Mr. Bunny Butler,” you begin, low and relishing and shy of being predatory, “bow your head.”

Xavier's nostrils flare at that. After a couple of seconds he complies, and seeing the sliver of his exposed nape opens something within you.

Against your shoulder the bunny ears snag, their length not allowing to fall along Xavier's pose. You bring one hand up to trace an invisible line across an ear, the fur short and soft. Xavier's quiet beneath you, but you can feel him stiffening at your every move. Braced a little behind his sides, his hands clench tightly.

“Can you feel it?” you ask, pinching the colored tip of the ear, pushing it back to observe its make. It's well-made, and you wonder if this one costs more than you'd expect.

Xavier shakes his head. You want to hear him, however, so you tap the back of his head in warning. He exhales loudly; breathes out, “No ...” and then tacking on: “Master.”

Your eyes narrow in pleasure, the flesh of your cheeks bunching from how wide your smile is. “That's my good bunny,” you praise him, caressing the curve of his head. He shivers—whether from the praise or the touch or both, you don't know.

To see him like this—a formidable hunter with centuries of experience, the force of stars pulsing underneath his skin, ready to rupture at his command—head bent low before you, hands closed in restrained fists, the lines of his body intersecting into a show of surrender. Yielding. It heats the core of your belly and your blood, and you can't help but bite your lip as you savor the image.

Leaning back and sitting on your calves, you catch Xavier's downcast stare. His brows furrowed as if concentrating, and when he notices you trained on him, his eyes do something that reminds you of the existence of the concept of puppy dog eyes.

Every time he does that, you think, you want to gobble him up.

Closing in on his face, you raise your left hand and cradle his jaw, tipping it up, gazes never leaving each other. Then you draw nearer, and nearer, until your lips almost brush against his. The sharp sound of his inhale is deafening in this lack of distance. Your eyes never leave his, but his drop down, nearly crossing, as he's distracted by your lips. His breaths are hot on your skin, and finally you aim at the corner of his mouth, and open your own to say:

“Don't move.”

And then you descend, trailing butterfly kisses along the edge of his lips, his cheek, his temple. Xavier goes spine-rigid at the first contact, forgetting to breathe for a second, before slowly exhaling, as if trying to hold himself together. His brows knit again and his eyes flutter closed, the line of his lips sloping downward.

He's controlling himself. And that delights you so much that you shift to kiss his earlobe and tug it once, then whispering directly to his ear, “That's my obedient bunny. Keep this up and I'll reward you.”

You stop to wait, and when nothing happens, you tug his jaw and take a bite at the shell of his ear—he gasps—and continue:

“What do you say?”

Xavier's shoulders lurch. He breathes once, twice, before answering.

“Thank you, my lady.”

“Good boy.”

The first reward: a kiss on the lips. A quick, initial press before you pry him open with tongue, and he welcomes you eagerly from the way he surges to meet you. The hand on his face holds him back, but his own hands fly to your hips and plant themselves there.

You slap them away, he resists. You break the kiss, and he makes a disappointed sound, chasing you, and then realizes what he's done.

“I'm sorry—my lady,” he stumbles, putting his hands back in their previous position. He looks so properly chastised, you love it.

Outwardly, you sigh in disappointment, and he whips his head up, stricken. “After I said that you're obedient, you do this. What shall we do, Mr. Bunny Butler?”

“What—” He swallows. “What do you want me to do, my lady?”

In all the times you've tried to fluster him, Xavier doesn't really redden. At best his skin produces a soft sheen of pink across his cheeks that linger over his ears. Never tomato-red though.

But now, his face glows bright pink that gradiates to a noticeable crimson, ending at the tips of his ears. This is good development, you decide, something that you want more of. So you push further.

“Are you truly sorry, Mr. Bunny Butler?”

He nods meekly.

“Then”—a finger pokes at the center of his forehead and pushes, his head docilely tilting back, exposing his slender, beautiful neck—“don't move this time.”

You slip two fingers under his tie and pull it loose. The unobstructed slide of the silken fabric echoes around the room, punctuated by the hitch of his breath. The bunny ears jerk. To his credit, he's still as a statue, and the giddiness that you've been feeling for a while now mounts to a dull yet insistent ache that pools between your legs.

Then you unbutton his collar, which reveals more of that pretty neck. An alarmed sound forms in his throat, and you call his name in warning. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows whatever he's about to say.

And that Adam's apple becomes your next target: your mouth molds around it, sucking, and Xavier gives a full-body shudder. A groan bursts out of him. He's trembling, his hands—leather-gloved and creaking at the strain of his fists—his thighs, his shoulders. You can see how he wants to turn his head, to retreat from your hot mouth, but thinks himself the better of it.

You place your left hand under his head and kiss him under the angle of his left jaw.

“Ah—”

With your free hand, you trace down the outline of his neck to shoulder. His breath catches, he jolts away, his eyes shoot you a betrayed look.

“My lady—”

You plant another kiss in the dip of his collarbone. “What does Mr. Bunny Butler want?” you ask against his moist skin.

He releases a shuttered exhale. Behind you, his legs move in a way that comes across as avoidant, as if he's hiding something from you. You glance down and realize the reason for his discomfort.

Saliva pools in your mouth.

But you swallow the surging desire ignited by the image of his arousal. It isn't time yet; you want to draw this out as long as you can.

Head still tipped back, Xavier doesn't see your discovery of his want, his eyes half-mast and his focus directed on reining himself in. If you remove yourself from the scene and study him from head to toe, you'd find Xavier the perfect picture of temptation, restrained, controlled on the surface but a collapsing star underneath, gravity pulling you to him and there's no way to escape.

Not that you'd like to escape in the first place.

You repeat your question, this time against his Adam's apple: “What does Mr. Bunny Butler want?”

“My la—” He chokes. Tries again. “Whatever my lady wants.”

Ah. Such a good bunny.

Your hands drift down to the next closed button. His tie is loosened enough that you can remove it in one hard tug. And isn't that a nice thought: one strong pull and he's dragged along by the force, his lips inevitably landing on your lips, a welcome collision.

But you don't follow that path; instead, your hands drop lower, to the last button of his waistcoat. The sides of your hands brush against the seam of his pants, dangerously close to his already obvious bulge, and it dawns on Xavier that you're already aware of his worldly response, if the widening of his eyes is an indication. He whips his head to shoot you a meaningful look, as if begging you to ignore his lapse of control—as if that is an unwelcome development.

Sometimes, you think, Xavier wants to show you a side of him that only exudes assurance, a sharp blade and sturdy shield that envelop you in sidereal protection. Be it from outside forces and his own—and even yours. Physical dangers, most especially, but curiously enough: information. Knowledge. The matters of the past. The matters of the heart. The both of you may have confessed that day, the words of your promises embedded in your heart like an oath under the stars, but there are times when a shadow passes through Xavier's expression, and he seems so far away. Light-years away.

But right now, that thought isn't at the forefront of your mind: it is the way the redness climbs up his neck, his face, his cheeks, painting him a beautiful hue that reminds you of a recently blossomed rose. He truly is gorgeous this way.

One of his hands encloses around yours, stopping your ministrations. Minute tremors hum under his callused palm.

“I'm—” A quick breath. “I'm supposed to serve you, my lady.”

Ah. Truly such a good bunny.

You capitulate, hands retreating from the button of his pants, but not before caressing his trembling hand and squeezing it once. An indulgent smile unfurls in the line of your lips, and you make a snap decision.

The second reward: freedom. Xavier has expressed his desire to serve, to please, and you'll give him the freedom to choose how to enact it—

Under a specific instruction, of course.

“Yes, of course,” you say, tapping his warm cheek fondly with your index finger. “Serve me, then, Mr. Bunny Butler. Strip for me. Slowly.”

He catches that finger quickly with his mouth, bites it lightly, like it's a warning—or a promise. You let him nibble and lick your finger for a couple of seconds, the wetness sending electricity down your spine, and you can't stop the shiver that echoes throughout your body. Xavier narrows his eyes in satisfaction at your response, hints of a smirk around his lips, and that's insubordination if you saw one. So you snatch your finger away from him, and punish him by dragging your wet finger along the column of his neck.

He jumps at the sensation.

“Strip, Xavier,” you repeat firmly. “Make sure it's a good show.”

It just proves how dedicated he is at this roleplay: by this point he should have already ended this little act and would have taken over, but he's holding your critical gaze as his hands settle over the topmost button of his vest.

“I'll try, my lady.” His voice drops to a low, husky murmur, one that summons pinpricks down your nape and the back of your shoulders, crawling in a slow, deliberate tease.

He does try, indeed. He moves back, affording you space to see his torso without having to change your position. One hand to brace his weight, the other deftly maneuvering each button at a comfortable pace. For every button opened, he takes a deep breath, gives you a confident smile, albeit awkward at the edges. But the rhythm of it lulls you, and you find yourself playing with his bunny ears again—a right decision, because he makes a surprised sound, which morphs into a moan.

The returned proximity grants you the ghostly brushes of his knuckles against your clothed stomach when he opens another button. Because of this, the way your stomach contracts every time he brushes you becomes known to him, and Xavier huffs a laugh, and proceeds to be more purposeful with it.

You tug at his bunny ear, hard. “Mr. Bunny Butler,” you warn.

His shrugs his vest off as his reply.

Now, only left with shirt and tie, Xavier stares down at them, thinking about what to do next. You help him by pushing yourself flush against him, making sure that your thigh grazes his cock. He judders, shoving his face on the crook of your neck and groaning. Idly, you continue playing with the furred ears.

“My lady, my lady,” he mutters, and you feel him sighing, “don't tease me.”

You hum. “Then put more effort in your show.”

He peeks up at you under those pretty yet underhanded lashes of his, and you spy hints of a smirk in that mouth.

But before you can question him about it, a hand grabs yours and guides it to his tie, wraps it around the silk fabric, and pulls. Slowly, carefully. From this angle more skin is revealed under your wandering gaze—the tease of a nipple, flashing beneath that white shirt—and you gulp at the flutter in your belly.

Once the necktie is completely off him, he takes it from your hand and, indeed like a show, re-ties it around his neck, a ribboned gift. At this point you're ready to combust—and he's not even naked.

“Do you like it, my lady?”

“Yes,” you rasp, suddenly off-kilter, “very much.”

“Then ...” He resumes undressing, the buttons of his shirt easily extricated, his movements economical, and bit by bit his bare torso opens before your anticipatory eyes.

He stops at the tucked-in part of the shirt. Glances at you, bites his lip, and goes back to pull the front off so the shirt opens just below his shoulders, presenting you such a gorgeous view.

Xavier sinks into the propped-up pillows—and you unconsciously follow—and smiles. “All yours, Master.”

He knows—that little shit—the allure of incomplete nakedness. The gap, the gape, the patches of exposed skin surrounded by fabric. Xavier's using it to his utmost advantage.

By now you could have clawed his clothes away from his body, but somehow, this tastes more delicious, the promise of a tease, the prolonged heat-pulse that thrums in your core, and you're pretty sure, if Xavier's shallow breaths are an indication, that he's into this too.

Well. May as well take advantage of this luxurious present.

One hand descends on the side of his neck, and you see him tamp down the surprised jolt. This hand, light in its touch, ghostly, virtual, traces the edges of the necktie. You can hear Xavier's bated breath, waiting for your next step.

Then down, down, down to his collarbone, the dip of it, your index finger making laps twice, end to end.

Then further: his chest. And this time, it's not only your hand that wants to participate. You brace yourself on his shoulder and bend down to kiss the center of his chest. Xavier lets out a sound, and inhales sharply.

Next: his left nipple, with an additional teasing nip. His hips buck from the sensation.

You stay where you are, lifting your gaze to ascertain his expression. His head is turned away, hiding his face, a hand covering half of it. But it's useless for him to hide, because his ear is in your direct line of vision, and it's a glaring red.

This propels you to indulge more: the hand on his shoulder slides down to pay his other nipple attention. His legs shift, restless. The sounds of his gasps and moans occupy the room. You feast on him, laying your tongue flat on him and dragging it wetly until you hear him stutter your name.

“M-My lady—I—”

You surge forward, and the force topples the stack of pillows behind him. In the midst of this, you reposition your legs so that you're finally straddling Xavier, your skirt bunching up just below your waist, and—teasingly—grind against his straining cock.

He jerks, grabbing at your hips, attempting at more friction, but you remind him who's in charge, and he eventually relents, taking deep breaths to calm himself.

“Sorry about that, my lady. I'm—I'm good now.”

“That's my good bunny.” Then you continue exploring his body with your tongue.

He tastes faintly of sweat but also the scent-taste of his body wash. He's showered just before calling you up. And for some reason, that does you: you rise to kiss him again, and your free hand sneaks itself under him—and grabs his bunny tail.

Xavier yelps, scarlet, shocked at the action, gaping at you and your smug face.

You squeeze the fluffy ball of a tail in response.

“M-My lady...!” he blurts.

“Shame that I didn't get to play with this last time,” you muse, feeling up the soft thing. It twitches under your curious touch. Delighted, you shift around Xavier's torso to lift his hips and study and poke at the tail repeatedly, entranced at the bounce and fuzziness of it. “A wasted opportunity, don't you think so?”

When you check Xavier's reaction, you have to hold back your laugh. He's clearly uncomfortable, but the discomfort is brought upon by embarrassment, as evidenced by his squirming and the persistence of his blush.

Words have left him, so he just averts your leery gaze, bury his face into the nearest pillow, and groans.

Taking pity on him, you release his tail—but not without giving it one last flick; he jolts—and slide your hands around the waistband of his pants. You're fumbling for the button and then the zipper when two gloved hands hinder your actions.

Xavier's face is rearranged into an indulgent yet mischievous smile. “My lady can enjoy me as long as you like. There's no need to hurry.”

But that's the thing, isn't it? You have already enjoyed him so much and enough that at one point things are bound to snap. He as your focal point of your want, the desire that thrums alongside your veins, almost like blood.

“But Mr. Bunny Butler,” you start, adopting a light, airy voice and tilting your head up at him, “there are a lot of things to enjoy from you. I'm not sure if one evening would do.”

Before Xavier can even get a word edgewise, you tear his pants open and yank his boxers down, freeing his cock.

“My la—”

His cock is a firm, solid weight on your hand, and Xavier bucks at the first contact, a halfway gasp ripping out of him. You watch his reactions as you stroke him slowly—painfully slowly, tantalizingly slowly—as your other hand crawl up his waist, flat palm spanning his side.

You know, intellectually and objectively, that Xavier is pretty. Gunmetal-grey hair that shimmers under the starry night sky. His smooth, unlined skin that you're harboring unholy envy for, soft under your curious fingers, almost pristine, untouched all his life. The column of his neck, strong bones underneath the layer of skin and muscle, the prominence of his Adam's apple. The outline of his body—even and proportioned, balanced like a finely crafted sword. And most of all: his eyes, the most expressive part of all of him. The color of an unperturbed sky, always clear and never lost. A steady glister in the darkness.

Right now, though, he's different altogether. Almost otherworldly in the way he's unraveling under your clever fingers. A shift of pressure and he's biting down the meat of his hand in a poor attempt to muffle his groans. A fleeting trail across the slit of his cock and his eyes flutter shut, his hips jumping off the mattress. He thrashes in chase of the pressure and pleasure you're providing him in crumbs, your need to see him lose that frustrating control of his. You keep stroking him and watching him blossom before you, petal by petal, limb by limb, nerve by nerve.

“My lady—” He's panting, running out of breath, his voice gaining that frenzied quality. It's music to your ears. “Master—Master, haa—”

He's coming, you can feel it. You can see it through his quickening breaths, the flush of his skin all over his body, the white-knuckled fist of his hands, the throb of his cock.

“My lady, I'm co—”

You release him, and the slow transformation of his face is such a fascinating phenomenon. From the crunch of pleasure, then crumpling into confusion. He raises his head to see you leaning back, hands away from him, his hazy eyes taking in what's happening—or its lack of. Then they widen, his mouth dropping open to release a sound of distress, round and full and cracking.

“Why did you ...”

You tug at the ends of the ribbon-necktie. He clicks his mouth shut.

“You said I can enjoy you as long as I like. There's no need to hurry.”

His gaze finally clears, and he gulps, nodding. Near your hips, Xavier's cock leaks.

“Then ...” You lay on top of him, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, your belly pressing against his pulsing cock (he freezes at this, and then continues to freeze), and place your arms on the sides of his head so your hands can reach the bunny ears. They still react delightfully under your roaming touch. “I'm going to enjoy these a little more. Don't move too much, okay?”

The room becomes pinched with quiet, and while you're intent on the furry ears atop Xavier's head, you can sense in your periphery his eyes on you. He's careful not to jostle you, the air he breathes catching on your skin, and you feel his arms snaking around your waist, settling on the small of your back.

“You really like the costume that much, huh.”

You hum in acknowledgment, rubbing the area where accessory meets scalp. You scratch it with your light fingernails, and Xavier sighs at the feeling.

When you leave the ears, you turn your attention to Xavier's expression next. He's still observing you, his flush now pale but enduringly distinct across his cheeks, and that entices you to meet his lips in a slow, patient kiss.

“It's nice, seeing you go through such effort to make me happy,” you answer him after you separate, punctuating the statement with a pleased, narrow-eyed smile.

A thought takes over Xavier, with the way his brows knit. Moments pass, you regard him, until he finally opens his mouth to articulate whatever has occupied him.

“My lady,” he begins, hesitant at first, but each word gains confidence, “there's something I want to do for you.”

“Speak.”

“I want you to”—and here his stare morphs into that puppy dog eyes again—“sit on my face. Please.”

You're stunned. The room continues to be quiet, and you're stunned. Xavier doesn't add anything after that; just waiting for your response. He's probably not sensing how you've finally shut down. You, felled by nine words, the last one an imperative period that brooked no refusal.

When he calls you, his face and his voice are tinted with uncertainty.

“Stars, Xavier.” You scramble up to reposition yourselves in accordance to his request. During this transitory moment, Xavier removes his gloves with his teeth. Now bare, both his hands come up to hold your thighs from behind, adjusting their spread and angle. You want to whine self-consciously, but glimpsing Xavier's eager expression as you move towards his head, you stamp that part in your mind. “Okay down there?”

He doesn't reply—instead he just goes for it.

Your hands shoot for the headboard, a surprised cry shocked out of you. Is this Xavier's way of revenge for denying his orgasm earlier? The way he confronts you is not unlike a battle, with his single-minded focus on his goal and his preciseness. He parts your folds with his tongue, pays attention to your clit first: sucks it lightly before dialing it up. You convulse, your hips digging down, and he moans, the vibration thrumming your flesh.

“Xavier,” you sob, “Xavier. Xavier.”

He laps around your clit like a thirsty man, hands kneading your thighs. He must've been thinking about this for a while now, with how methodical he's going by it, strategized to push you into becoming a complete and utter wreck. He kisses your clit then mouths it, moves his tongue in lateral glides that have you thrashing on your position. You grind against him, and he welcomes it wholeheartedly, and behind you his hips thrust helplessly in air, his stubbornly hard cock drooling with pre-come.

One hand nudges you forward and you follow, until his tongue enters inside you—you gasp and shiver at the slick intrusion—drinks you with such loudness that you wouldn't be surprised if his neighbors overhear what the two of you have been doing.

He knows how to prolong the barrage of pleasure, that heat and swell around your core, your undulating hips, sustained until you buckle and collapse from the force of it, your orgasm torrential like a storm.

When Xavier emerges between your legs, his face shines from your slick and his saliva. A fond smile slips out of you, and a finger traces the length of his lips; then your entire hand, cupping the side of his face, a tender caress. A smile of his own appears and he nuzzles your hand, kisses the center of your palm, eyes closed and sated.

“Good boy,” you praise, and he sighs happily. “So good for me. Have to reward you, don't I?”

The third reward: release. You move back to pull his pants and boxers off him completely, and Xavier just watches you with anticipation, breaths in quick bursts.

“You know the drill: don't move.” You underline this order with a tease of his cock, a line-trail from the tip to the base and then a quick squeeze of his balls.

When you align yourself above him and begin to sink down, Xavier goes rigid-stiff, daring not to breathe, careful not to move. You pause from your progress, and send him a worried look.

“Xavier?”

“I—I'm—” He bites his lip, exhales through his nose. “I'm okay, I just. I'm just trying not to react too much.”

“Why?”

He casts you a helpless gaze. “Because, my lady, I'm afraid that my control would slip, and I would have my selfish way with you.”

You falter at that. To be honest that's not such a bad idea at all, but Xavier knows that this is for you and your needs, and what you need right now—and what you want, if one were to ask—is him under you, at your mercy. Just as he is right now.

So you move lower, feeling the head of his cock open you up, slowly. And you can hear the hitching breaths unwittingly made by him, his eyes shut and his whole expression folded inward, as if he couldn't handle the pleasure descending over him.

A groan tumbles out of his lips, low at first, quick and fleeting, but as you inch lower and lower, the feel of his cock molding you inside, the wanton sounds he makes lengthens, gets louder, until he parts those glistening lips and vocalizes his satisfaction.

“My lady—you feel so—”

“Good, I hope.”

He doesn't wait until you bottom out; he bucks his hips to sheathe himself inside you completely in one smooth motion. You cry out from his action, his cock pulsing against your walls, and the feeling of him pulls you in further bliss that your eyes flutter closed and your back arches as the pleasure spreads throughout your body.

“The best, my lady.”

He gasps when you clench around him, your wetness dripping between your joined bodies.

You really think the best position Xavier has ever been is here right now: underneath you, helpless to your demands, seized by pleasure that you're giving him and taking from him. The way his face doesn't know what to do in the undulating waves of pressure as you begin to move above him, your hips lifting and then slamming back down; the film of sweat coating his skin all over, moistening the sheets beneath the two of you. The severe grip of his hands, bunching up the blankets in their deathly clutch. His rapid heartbeat under your palm as you support your weight by bracing yourself on his chest. His moans, his filthy, filthy moans—his moans that you will remember until your dying day because they are so far out of his cultivated normalcy—open-mouthed, slack-jawed moans that come from the core of his abdomen, surging upwards, frantic, crazed, melodiously and sublimely wanton.

“Look at you, Xavier,” you pant, and one of Xavier's legs kicks out. “Look at my bunny butler.”

“Master—Master—”

“What do you want, darling?” you ask, shakily tracing the side of his face. When your fingers near his mouth he turns his head to place a kiss at your fingertips, then drags his tongue out to lick at their length. Your index and middle fingers press flat at his tongue, and he groans around them. His puffs of breath beat in time with the movement of your hips.

One hand crawls towards your thigh, haltingly slides upwards, up to the junction of your hips, where it disappears under the spill of your skirt. Then it reaches behind to squeeze at the meat of your ass, and you gasp, stuttering your pace.

You take out your fingers so he can answer you, but Xavier grabs your wrist with his other hand and brings it back to his lips, trails kisses on each finger, murmurs nonsensical things against your saliva-coated skin until, louder, he tells you—

“Everything you can give me, my lovely Master.”

And, oh, isn't that a wonderful thing to hear? That readiness of his—be it in battle or in bed, he rolls with everything you throw at him, as though there's nothing that can taint you in his eyes, no betrayal to feel forsaken by. As though all that he's done, all that he's doing, is in service to you.

And it's because of this that you use the same hand to cup at his jaw and jerk it in your direction, bowing down to kiss him, bite his lower lip, thrust your tongue inside, lick the roof of his mouth, suck his own tongue—devour him fully and utterly.

He meets your intent with his own, just as intense, just as parched and hungry as you are for him. Every exhale is accompanied by a soft sigh, and you swallow his every sound—that lovely and soothing voice that lingers in your mind and haunts the edges of your dreams. His reaction just drives you to speed up your pace.

He's trembling all over, and tries to shift the angle from which you're riding him. Doing so affords his cock to hit something inside you, lighting up your body, starburst behind your eyelids, and you jolt, a whimper tearing out of your throat that Xavier drinks greedily. His hand on your ass traverses to your clit and plays with it, intensifying the blast of sensations on your lower body.

Obstructed by your mouth, Xavier tries: “My lady, I think—I'm close.”

“Me too, I'm—don't hold back—”

He doesn't. And he doubles his efforts in relentlessly stroking your clit and pounding up inside you, and the pleasure crests and crests and crests until you pulse and clench and come, sobbing at the white-hot crash flooding your nerves, collapsing on top of Xavier, mouths still connected.

And he doesn't stop. This time both his hands bracket your hips; grinds you down as he pushes deeper and deeper inside you. You're oversensitive but you don't stop him, just clinging to him and whimpering, and he begins to assail your ear, his panting tangible and hot against your skin.

“My lady, my lady,” he chants, voice shattering like glass. “My lady—Master—”

His orgasm feels like an echo of your own release, his spend filling inside you. Xavier gives a few more thrusts before slowing down and stopping. A self-satisfied sigh ripples over his relaxed body, and his hands climb to your back, guide you to pillow your head on his chest, embracing you as you melt on top of him.

Minutes pass, and his breathing evens; you expected him to fall asleep after, but when you look up his eyes are emphatically open.

“Aren't you sleeping?”

He glances down at you. Quirks a smile. “No, not yet.”

“Oh ...”

“We're not finished, my lady.”

“Huh?”

“You've had your fill, Master.” He smirks. Then flips you over, reversing your positions so he's now on top of you. He starts unbuttoning your shirt. “Now let me have mine.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #LaD fic #love and deepspace smut #LaD smut #love and deepspace xavier #LaD x reader #love and deepspace x reader #LaD xavier #nsft #fic #my fic #shen xinghui my beloved

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captainsboonie · 2 months

Text

Allergies

words: 3961

Warnings: Implied sexual content, hormones (oh god hormones!!!!!!!)

Additional tags: reader is a sergeant, a/b/o dynamics, pack dynamics, scenting, omega!reader, alpha!price, no y/n used, kneeling-aftercare not sex-aftercare, john price is a BIG man, reader is very sad and stressed but doesnt realize it :(, uncomfortable leather couches = best kneeling session ever, readers hormones go wild cuz of scent blockers

Summary: It was becoming such an issue that it interfered with your job and your abilities. You couldn’t do your paperwork if an Alpha had brought you the papers, as it would end in you having to evacuate the room to not disturb the other people working with your wheezing. If an Alpha had cleaned your gun in the weaponry, you couldn’t use it until it was fully cleaned and reassembled again by a Beta. It was getting worse and worse throughout the weeks, and honestly, it was stressing you out. You might lose your rank, or even your job, for this.

After suddenly getting very sensitive and reactive to scents, a lone Sergeant is in desperate need of help. Captain John Price, as it happens, had her on his list for possible recruits for the 141. Losing a possible member was not ideal to him - so he decides to help out.

notes: this literally took all my motivation thats ever existed. i dont know why. just eight pages of pure suffering is what this is (also havent i used a yellow color for the summary text before? or is it the same as the orange??? where'd yellow go). its 01:14 so if beta read is bad its just cause im tired

You’ve gotten allergic to certain scents.

Or, that’s the only reasonable explanation for your current suffering, anyway. That, or you accidentally breathed in or consumed some weird chemical on a mission that was fucking your sense of smell up. You doubted both former and latter, but at this point, you were desperate for answers.

Being an Omega wasn’t so bad. However, being an Omega while living in the same building as an uncountable amount of military Alphas, was worse. Everything about them stunk. Wherever you went, that musty smell of dominance coated everything: walls, tables, chairs, rugs, the toilet paper, and even the cutlery. Just raising a fork to your mouth was enough for your brain to short-circuit, making you drop the fork on the plate which was loud – so loud that everyone turned their heads towards you as you sneezed into the bend of your arm.

It was becoming such an issue that it interfered with your job and your abilities. You couldn’t do your paperwork if an Alpha had brought you the papers, as it would end in you having to evacuate the room to not disturb the other people working with your wheezing. If an Alpha had cleaned your gun in the weaponry, you couldn’t use it until it was fully cleaned and reassembled again by a Beta. It was getting worse and worse throughout the weeks, and honestly, it was stressing you out. You might lose your rank, or even your job, for this.

Management obviously noticed, and instead of firing you, put you on scent-blocker pills. Now you could at least eat and wipe without coughing your lungs up, having constant throat burn, or getting nosebleeds every time you sneeze due to the constant irritation of your airways. It got slightly better, good enough for you to be able to work, thankfully. You finally got your paperwork done, not reacting to the scent of the Alphas as if you inhaled pure black pepper. The constant stench was still annoying, but compared to the hell you’ve been through the past weeks, you considered it durable.

But suddenly, the pills decided to start a fucking war with your hormones. You felt like total shit; even the slightest inconvenience either set you off, or left you quietly sobbing in a corner. There was no inbetween for the two weeks that the pills were in effect. It got so bad that you growled at one of the Lieutenants, which ended in one of the Betas having to pull you away from said Lieutenant (which, unfortunately for you, turned out to be an Alpha) to prevent any unnecessary scuffles.

After that incident, which was witnessed by practically every soldier on base, a few others got involved. Remarkably, management tried to find other solutions after making you stop taking the pills. You thought that they would have fired you long ago, sparing themselves from the complications and total waste of their time. Normally, you wouldn’t be complaining about getting free food and housing, but your worsening condition prevented you from enjoying the luxuries. At this point, you would rather have them fire you than let you stay and suffer through the agonizing pain and distress.

Thankfully, some higher-ups found a fitting nurse on base that was willing to investigate your troubles. Well, basically every nurse in the infirmary was willing to, since Omegas weren't researched to the same extent that Alphas and Betas were. Getting the chance to investigate and witness a rare case as yours seemed to greatly attract the nurses.

The nurse visited your room barely three hours after you got the notice from management. She entered quickly, closing the door gently behind her as she introduced herself. The meeting turned out to be extremely short, to your surprise. After just a short physical examination and some questions, she was done.

“It’s stress.” The nurse concluded while taking off her sanitary gloves, which she had used to feel your scent glands only seconds earlier. Your eyebrows immediately scrunched slightly, eyes narrowing. As she threw the gloves in a nearby trash can, you started pondering. How was this caused by stress when you only felt stressed after this happened? Your eyes followed her as she walked around the room, packing her tools back into the bag she brought them in. She looked over at you, and tilted her head a little. “You look confused.”

“I mean… yeah,” You mumble, looking around the room to avoid eye contact. Had you caused all of this chaos just because you were stressed? You suddenly felt guilty. You had always been able to control the stressful environment at base and on missions – what had managed to go so wrong now? The nurse looked at you curiously while holding her bag, as though she was leaving. You ended up quietly muttering, afraid to accidentally make her feel insulted. “Sorry, but I don’t think that’s possible.”

“...Why wouldn’t that be possible, Sergeant?” She sighs, but the look in her eyes proves that she’s not tired of you. She looks at you with care – not with the usual sternness you’re used to from the Lieutenants. She puts the bag down on the floor, and goes to sit on the bed next to you. Her calming scent wafts through the air, making your previous guilt slowly fade, and muscles release their tension without your command – making you feel a little sleepy. That’s why most nurses are Betas; the natural ability to calm being almost essential. Your thoughts gather way faster now than before, the Beta’s scent doing wonders. You sigh, and look over at her on your left side. “I’m not stressed. I’ve never been too stressed, cause I would’ve noticed, right? I was perfectly fine until this happened. This is the thing that’s been stressing me out, but nothing before that.”

“You’ve misunderstood me,” She smiles, and puts a warm hand on your left knee. She was extremely grounding, and you understood perfectly why management chose her specifically. “It’s not you, hun. It’s your Omega that’s stressed – that’s most likely why you haven’t felt it until it became real bad,” she pauses for a moment, ”tell me, have you done anything recently to calm it down?”

“Well… no. Not really. ” You murmur after a few moments, in thought, as you think back on the recent months. It’s first now that you notice the signs: you stopped getting the urges to nest only a few months after you first moved to this base, you started to rub your scent glands often, and eventually you even stopped scenting your own room. You have no pack, no mate, no bonds. How were you supposed to keep your omega content when you didn’t have someone to care for you? The nurse purses her lips and pats your knee softly to bring you out of your thoughts. “That’s what I suspected. You practically dozed off when you smelled my pheromones, you’re that sensitive. Plus, I can smell the scent of a stressed Omega, and I shouldn’t even be able to.” She’s right. Only Alphas and your pack should be able to identify that.

“I know that you’re confused, but I think I may have found a solution for you.” You look over at her from the corner of your eye, sighing. “Is there even a solution at this point? I’ve got nobody to calm it down.” You answer shortly, giving up hope. You had already tried to find packs, especially here on base, but none were too keen on taking in a stray. Your heats, which you fortunately only experienced twice per year, were solved by mere one-night stands with no aftercare. It left you broken, but it especially broke your Omega. It was hurt, and had nobody to seek help from. The nurse brings you out of your thoughts once more. “Don’t get all caught up in those depressive thoughts. You know that Lieutenant that you slightly …reacted towards?”

“...That’s a fancy way of saying it. But yes, I do. Why, what about him?” You cringe, cheeks turning vibrant as you think back. He’d taken the last protein bar. And you’d growled. You sigh and rub your forehead, and the nurse chuckles. “I didn’t mean to make you think back, since you seem to have taken it so hard. What happened wasn’t your fault.” She goes over to the bag, that’s still laying on the floor, and pulls out the notebook she had been using to write down your symptoms. She walks over to the bed while flipping to another page, sitting down and showing you the messy writing while explaining. “His Captain knows about you. You’d apparently been on his list of people he might interview for the 141, but when you started reacting this badly to scents, he decided to keep an eye on you. I contacted him before I got here and told him my suspicions, and he’s happy to help.”

You swear that your cheeks are going to ignite. All of this came to you as a shock – you’d been on his list, he kept an eye on you, he wanted to help you? The thoughts were rushing through your head all at once. The nurse visibly saw it on your face and put one of her hands on your shoulder gently. Her gaze was reaffirming, calming, as she spoke. “He’s a Captain, he knows what he’s doing. He’s been taking in strays since he joined the military – I can guarantee that he will take care of you.”

After some more conversing you found out that the nurse had already booked a meeting, on your behalf, with said Captain. She said that it was better for you to meet him as soon as possible, so she booked it for this evening. Sigh. You had no time to prepare yourself for what was about to happen, no time to gather your thoughts, as you decided to go to his office immediately. He’d apparently never said when this evening, so as you knocked on his door, you hoped you’d arrived at a suitable time. After an awkward second of waiting outside his door, the handle lowered. The high-pitched squeaking of the hinges slowly grew as the door opened wider, and revealed Captain Price.

He was a huge man, standing tall and wide in the doorway. His size was anticipated however, due to his secondary gender. Large muscles protruded faintly from his tight long-sleeve, cargo pants stretching tightly around his thighs. Jeez. Did this man even buy clothes his own size? His hair was ruffled slightly, some spiky ends pointing in all directions. His beard, however, was well groomed, showing off his lips as he smiled.

“I’ve been waiting for you. Come in.” He rumbles, quite literally. His voice was deep, tone commanding, as you stepped inside his office. As soon as you stepped over the threshold, his smell hit you like a shockwave. You were sure that you could smell coffee and leather, but there was just too much. It overwhelmed you, making you immediately cover the lower half of your face with the thick hoodie you’re wearing, to escape the odor. It worked to an extent, but it certainly wasn’t enough to block it out. Price noticed what was happening, and studied you as he walked over to his office chair. “Had some Betas in here for a while, thought that it would drown my scent out enough for you to be comfortable. Guess it didn’t work then, did it?”

“No, sir.” You mumble from underneath the hoodie, standing straight, muscles tense. You really didn’t want to be here, in a room all alone with someone who could overpower you within a few seconds. An Alpha that you’d never met before, your superior, that you barely knew the motives of. You had no idea how he acted – had no idea what he was like in general, and it made you nervous.

Price knew it too. The way the scent in the room was drastically changing from his own to one of chemicals proved an Omega in distress, but what gave it away was your tense shoulders and knees, as well as the way you wouldn’t make eye contact.

“You seem uncomfortable.” He says, looking at your eyes from across the office table. It was decorated with the usual office stuff: Pencils, ballpoint pens, a monitor, and a few small plastic plants.

“I… I don’t really know what to do,” you speak up after a few seconds, words once again muffled by your hoodie. You looked up at him, finding his gaze already set on you and observing you. He sighs, leans back in his chair, and spreads his legs slightly. “I know that we’re not pack, and that this may make you uncomfortable, but you have to try. Let’s just… get to know each other, yeah? Then we’ll take it from there.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was difficult not to trust Price, even with how tense you were. His gentle and caring demeanor helped you relax enough to be able to sit next to him in the uncomfortable leather couch that stood in a corner in his office. It was thoroughly used, cracks decorating the leather, branching out like lightning over the worn material. You wonder what had made it so appealing in the first place as you shift uncomfortably, your back feeling like you’d sat against a brick wall for hours on end. You both had managed to keep a steady conversation going since you first arrived, but your squirming interrupted the mood.

“...Uncomfortable?”

As he speaks, you swear that you could see a shiny glint of mischief in his eyes. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, promptly replaced by a neutral look that you couldn’t interpret. You sighed quietly, faking a smile and shaking your head. As you did, he smirked somewhat, looking away from you and shaking his head as the smirk grew. He could see right through you. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that. We both know that’s not true, love.”

The nickname had, what you assumed was, the desired effect. Cheeks hot, you look up at him, puzzled. He looks back at you, his gentle eyes reassuring you once more. The eye contact is intense – and eventually, his scent gets more intense. You could feel the beginning of an itch in your throat, making you draw back and raise the collar of your hoodie above your nose. He looked slightly disappointed at your retreat, but gathered himself quickly. He cleared his throat, gaze diverting from you. “Let’s not circle around the elephant in the room any more than necessary. You need me to take care of you, correct?”

“...I mean, according to the nurse, yes.” You mutter out from underneath the hoodie, turning slightly grumpy at the thought. You’d been so invested in the conversation that you’d forgotten why you were here in the first place. He rumbles a singular hum at your wording, interested. “But not according to you, then?”

It was like he could open your skull, reading thought after thought as if you were a simple book. You supposed it was natural considering his position, but it still felt eerie. “No. I don’t feel stressed.”

“You’re out of your mind – straight nonsense, that is.” He chuckles, voice rumbling, almost reverberating inside his chest cavity. His lips were stretched thin as he genuinely smiled, looking up and in your eyes a short moment later. “The scent of stressed Omega is practically drowning me, inside my own office, Sergeant. Are you really so sure that you aren’t stressed?”

You huff at him and look away, eyebrows scrunching slightly as you close your eyes. He was good company at first, but now you just wanted to leave. He could most likely feel the scent of stress increasing, fighting his instincts to care, making him squeeze his eyes shut and lower his head. He let out a deep sigh. “Just let me try to help. If it doesn’t work, no harm done. If it does work, you’ll be able to live normally again.”

“So much for living normally in this line of work.” You shoot him a glare from the corner of your eye, much to his disappointment. He raises his eyebrows as he keeps a neutral expression. You huff once more, obviously not keen on his idea. “What are you even going to do? How are you going to help me?”

“Me? I’m not going to be doing so much.” His gravelly voice boomed cooly. You look over at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

He seemed oddly comfortable on the unbearable couch, gaze cool and steady. His body was wide, legs parted, taking up as much space as possible. He was so confident, and it somehow made you feel… safe? He slowly spoke again, calmly, as if he didn’t want to upset you with what he was about to say. “You’ll have to kneel for me, Sergeant.”

Kneeling. It was something you’d never done before. It was the ultimate act of trust between Omega and Alpha – explaining why you’d never experienced it. You had never had someone to trust enough to kneel for, especially not within the military. The thought of kneeling in front of Captain Price, someone you’d met just a few hours ago, was dizzying. Your eyebrows scrunched, not sure how to react to such a thing. “Kneel?”

“Yeah. Kneel. You know how it works.” Thing is, you don’t. How are you supposed to know when you’ve never done it before? You suspect that Price reads you once more as you glare over at him. His eyes widen – in remorse or something else, you don’t know – as he raises his chin slightly. He keeps his eyes on you, observing, but eventually lets out a sigh. “Guess it was stupid of me to assume. Don’t worry, I’ll guide you through it – it’s as simple as it sounds.”

“It sounds sexual.” You sigh, as he grabs a soft pillow from the couch and puts it on the floor between his spread legs. He lets out a small chuckle, and looks up at you as he prepares. “Yeah. It’s going to look sexual too, love, but you’ll just have to trust me with this.”

He finishes quickly, somehow managing to find a comfortable position on the couch. His legs are spread wide, ready to accommodate you in between them. You blush once more, realizing that you’re basically going to have his crotch in your face.

You immediately try to stop your train of thought, eyes widening as you realize the scent in the room is changing. You can’t identify it, but Price sure can; pupils blown as he looks over at you from the corner of his eye. “Don’t do that if you don’t want this to have a completely different outcome.”

After stalling a few times, you finally dare to drop to your knees on the pillow. You were completely rigid, muscles filled to the brim with tension. Price immediately tries to get your attention. “Hey, look at me,” He orders, and as you obey, he rewards you, “there you go, just like that.”

The praise gave you goosebumps. You were now looking up at his eyes, pupils expanding as you soak up the praise. He smiles and nods once down at you, rewarding you for listening. “Good job. Now, I’m just going to do something real quick, and you’ll feel very good. Trust me.”

The position you were in made you trust him, made you obey his commands. You had no idea if it was instinctual or if you were just depraved, but at this point you didn’t care. It felt good to kneel for him, and the praise was just an extra bonus. You nodded slowly at his words, and after your confirmation, he started slowly moving his right hand towards the left side of your neck. As his fingers grazed your bare throat, you could feel his scent growing sweeter. Instead of bitter coffee, he now smelled like sweet chamomile tea – making you drowsy. You could feel a pressure that you didn’t know existed in your airways die down, and all of a sudden, you could breathe.

His palm was now gently laying on the left side of your neck, and your eyes slowly started closing. He was murmuring sweet praise constantly, telling you how good you were for him, and how everything was going to be okay. Suddenly, his hand moved slightly up to your scent gland, and pushed on it ever so slightly. The sensation left you speechless, only capable of releasing a relaxed sigh as you push your neck further into his palm. What you couldn’t currently see due to your closed eyes, was the proud smile Price was wearing. He knew that if you could purr, you definitely would. The expression on your face was just pure relaxation as you float – experiencing a heavenly, ethereal feeling that was unknown to you. Price continued murmuring those sweet words, and you couldn’t think straight anymore.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You don’t know how much time has passed. You must’ve fallen asleep, since you woke up leaning on Price’s left thigh. You could feel a large and warm hand on your head, holding you steady against his thigh so you wouldn’t topple over. You gradually open your eyes, pupils trying to adjust to the harsh lightning as you do.

“G’morning.” Price’s voice affectionately murmurs down at you, starting to stroke your hair slowly as you adjust. “How’re you feeling?”

“...Tingly.” You respond quietly, almost in a whisper. The Captain chuckles, and you look up at him softly as he keeps stroking your head. His voice is intentionally soft, not wanting to accidentally startle you. “I wasn’t expecting an answer. Post-kneeling is always difficult for Omegas to describe.”

As you slowly woke up and regained your rational way of thinking, you noticed that you smelled entirely of Price. There wasn’t a single hint of your smell left, and you looked up at him, blushing. “Did… Did you scent me?”

His eyes widen and look down at you almost immediately. He scoffs, shakes his head, and looks away once more. “No, I absolutely would not scent you without your permission. You might smell like me after the kneeling, though.”

Price desperately tried to ignore his instincts. You, a stray Omega, definitely looking for a pack and a mate, smelling just like him. His Alpha took that as a sign that he’d claimed you, and Price tried, with all his might, to prevent himself from escalating the currently wholesome situation to something… not-so-wholesome.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were surprisingly content half-asleep between his legs, sometimes dozing off enough for you to almost fall over. But, all things have to come to an end, and sooner than later you were being escorted out of Price’s office by the man himself.

It was difficult to say goodbye. You two had just done something that you couldn’t undo, made an unbreakable bond, practically tying you two together with a short invisible string that couldn’t be cut. You both knew it – yet, there were no regrets.

As you step over the threshold after saying your goodbyes, Price’s hand stops you by grabbing your shoulder. You turn around curiously, looking up at him with wide, expecting eyes. “Meet me here at six, tomorrow afternoon. I’ve got good news for you.”

You got the job that Price had originally put you on the list for, and soon after, you met the 141 for the first time. They all looked at you curiously – you smelled just like their Captain, after all. After sparing a glance over at said looming – seemingly protective – alpha, they managed to piece it together.

taglist!!!: @cadotoast

#captain john price #captain john price x reader #john price #john price x reader #captain john price x fem!reader #captain johnathan price #john price cod #captain price #captain price x reader #john price x you

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head---ache · 3 months

Text

Hello, as many of you may know, I'm from Chile, and I want to share with you what's happening right now, and that has been happening every summer for as long as I can remember.

Every summer, as soon as December hits, we start to see impressively big forest fires, especially in the south of Chile, where there's the most vegetation to get burnt. As summer goes on, the fires start appearing all over the country.

These fires are widely believed to be started intentionally by real estate companies, to be able to build more houses, because these terrains aren't being sold to them because of the vegetation they possess, but after they're burnt, they are able to buy them, and build freely.

Today there are currently many fires happening in my region, in my city. This morning I just happened to visit the capital (Santiago) with my family, and on our way back home we saw three different fires.

My cousin wasn't able to return home from work, she'll have to look for somewhere to spend the night, on a different city. Some of my brother's friends had to evacuate their homes. Public transportation is not working right now. The streets are filled with infite traffic, of people having to evacuate their homes. Some of my friends' relatives lost their homes, and don't know if their pets are okay. There's so many people that got lost during the evacuations, especially children. And I don't even know when I will be able to post this, because I do not currently have access to internet, nor electricity, and up until recently, water was also unavailable.

I also need you to know that many of these fires happen in hills, where, usually, the most vulnerable people are situated. Many of the houses that are in danger started as tomas, and some of them still are. A 'toma' is the conquest or occupation by force of a square or city, and most of the times, these happen so that people who do not have a house, can build a house. These houses are built by these people, and are extremely vulnerable. This is who is in danger of losing all their efforts, their belongings, and the roof over their heads.

All of this to say, if you see someone from Chile asking for help, please do, in anyway you can. Due to the current events, they probably need it.

Hopefully I can post this soon.

#sorry for the serious post #i just kind of feel a bit powerless #like uuugh i whish i could do more #i mean im defenitely going to donate supplies when i can but like idk #btw for anyone wondering im okay!!!!#we got electricity back last night #i have a massive headache from all the smoke but other than that im fine

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genshin-obsessed · 4 months

Note

Helliuw~ Can I request how Luocha from Honkai Star Rail going after his crush (reader)? Thank you!

𓆩⟡𓆪 Ooh this is a cute one!! Well they all usually are, but I really like this one. Luocha is just so *sigh* 𓆩⟡𓆪 This was also much longer than I intended it to be, i didn't even realize. It may not be entirely compatible with his personality, but I was just having too much fun to change it.

How He Confesses

Luocha is a generally observant person, and he's good a picking up emotions of others. So, it wasn’t hard for him to recognize that his own emotions stirred when he interacted with you.

However, just because he can recognize these feelings doesn't mean he's good at acting on them. He’ll understand them but he’ll try to either deny it or just avoid it for a while in the earlier stages.

Luocha doesn’t want to rush things, which is why he tries to take it slow. But over time, he realizes just how much he loves you.

It does make it harder for him to take it slow, so at some point, he throws caution to the wind and just attempts to confess.

Here’s the thing, there’s a certain rule to confessing, right? Like you don’t just say it to someone’s face that you love them without setting up something. Doesn’t need to be anything grand, but some effort has to go in it.

Well, that’s what he tried. See, he wanted to confess in private, wanting the atmosphere to reflect the love he felt for you. So, he set up a little picnic in a secluded area he’d found. It was perfect, with how easily the stars could be seen, to the way the moonlight poured onto the seating area. It was truly the definition of beauty. The setup was easy, he needed a blanket, maybe a couple of pillows, a bottle of wine, some snacks, and a clear night.

But then apparently it was an extremely windy night? Like, he couldn’t get the blanket to stay, the small rocks weren’t helping too much, the basket flew away, he accidentally spilled the wine before he could even set it up. Like, the date failed before he even asked you to join him.

So, he tried something else. Decided maybe something indoors would be a more neutral choice. Even if it started raining, you two would be fine. So, he set up a reservation, asked to be put in a more private area so you could talk without much noise. The venue was all fancy and stuff, so you'd love it for sure!

But apparently four customers got into a heated argument that became physical. Somehow the fight moved to the kitchen and they ended up starting a fire? Everyone was evacuated and Luocha got a call mere hours before the date that they’d be closed for a couple of weeks due to the damages.

So, that clearly failed. Well, to hell with fancy confessions, he just needed to tell you right? Maybe it was best to confess in person then give you the option to take some time to yourself and think just in case. He was a little disappointed that his other plans didn't work, but maybe it was for the best! Putting you in that situation might force some pressure onto you to give him a response immediately.

The next time you two met up, he decided to go for it. He was running with the conversation and was building up to the confession… when you got a call from Yanqing claiming he had an emergency he desperately needed you for… and you had to leave.

At this point, Luocha had to wonder of it was even in the cards for him to confess. Cards! Oh! Nothing could possibly interrupt a card, right? Sure, it was the tackiest idea ever, but desperate times call for desperate measures!

The process of writing a love letter was much more complicated than he realized. He needed it to be short and concise, but not abrupt. He also didn't want it to be too cheesy with over the top metaphors and whatnot. Honestly, it took him at least 6 drafts before he settled on one that was bearable.

He debated on sending it to you through the courier but decided against it since so much had gone wrong already. Best part about this idea? He didn't need to take up too much of your time, even a few minutes worked as he just needed to explain it. Basically, he gave it to you and instructed you to keep it safe until you got home and then read it, so that you had that privacy. You agreed and he went home feeling somewhat mediocre. On on hand, he finally got the confession out, but on the other, it was such a dumb way- in his opinion (Pocky thinks love letters are hella romantic).

APPARENTLY you lost your entire bag and the letter with it. I mean, Luocha was at his wits end. It’s like the entire universe was against him just confessing. Everything that could go wrong, literally went wrong. Your entire backpack vanished! You wouldn’t even get a chance to reject, which, at some point, had someone stopped being a fear of his due to these bizarre circumstances!

Finally, he gave up and just kept his mouth shut. He realized how much trouble was being caused every time he confessed and decided to save the entire world some grief and just bury his feelings. He’d just die with them.

The days went on, nothing really happened. Like those weird events just magically went away which did make him wonder if he was being set up. He threw that out the window when he realized no other soul other than him knew about his feelings. You two hung out as often as you usually did but you started noticing Luocha’s behavior. It was… odd. Less cheery and more distracted. You tried to ask but he kept saying it was nothing and he was just tired.

Honestly, Luocha hated lying to you. Omitting details for others was easy but for you, it felt wrong. He didn’t want to distance himself but clearly he wasn’t meant to be with you.

Then you did the unthinkable. You just… confessed. Lemme explain:

“I’m ok. You’re worrying again.” Luocha said with a slight chuckle as he raised the teacup to his lips. He easily noticed you weren’t really convinced in the slightest, but he didn’t intend on letting you know anytime soon. Who knows, the entire street might explode to keep him from confessing.

“Of course, I would worry. I really care about you, you know.” Your words were spoken with no hesitation that it made Luocha’s hand pause in the middle of him taking another sip of his hot beverage.

“Huh? O-oh, thank you. That’s really kind of you.” He said, slowly returning to reality and waving his hand a little. As if you didn’t have to say such a thing to make him feel better.

“I mean it.” You pointed out as you leaned forward a little. “I really like you and you being so withdrawn makes me worry a lot.”

“I can assure you, I really am just- wait, what?” Luocha’s eyes widened as he fully registered what you’d just said to him. You seemed confused by his expression and just shrugged.

“Well, yeah. It’s normal to worry about someone you like, right?”

“R-right but you like me. Like… you’re romantically interested in me?” His words were deliberate and he wanted to make sure there was absolutely no confusion between you two whatsoever.

“Yes. I have a crush on you. Well, for me it's a bit more intense than like but you know what I mean.” His eyes immediately darted around and he even turned around to see the area behind the outdoor café. “Luocha? What’s wrong?”

After a moment of silence from him, the blond man sighed and turned back to you. You could visibly see the relief he felt.

“Honestly, I was expecting a skiff to crash and kill us.” You were taken aback by his morbid words, your eyes widening.

“Wh-why?”

“Yeah. Why? That’s my question too.” He replied, rubbing his face. “Wait, no. Forget that, you actually feel the same way?”

“Feel the same? Wait, you like me too!? Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked, leaning even closer. At the simple words, Luocha felt a bitter feeling in his chest.

“I tried.” He replied flatly, pushing his hair back to recompose himself. “But my confession quickly turned into a series of unfortunate events.”

“Oh? What happened?” You asked, eyes filled with curiosity as you waited for him to elaborate. He was about to, opening his mouth to speak before he fell silent once more. What? No! No, he couldn't waste any more time.

“N-never mind that! Let’s talk about us. You like me, I like you. We should just go ahead and just get married.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, shaking your head a little. Now, it felt like he was returning to his normal self. Honestly, it wasn't that bad of an idea- technically speaking.

“Marriage? Shouldn’t we go on a date first?”

“Why? Tomorrow’s never guaranteed and we might as well just make it official.” That and… Luocha was a little scared to propose seeing as how his confession went. At this rate, you’d be the one proposing. Well, he actually didn’t hate the idea.

You couldn’t help but laugh again and Luocha felt a smile tugging at his own lips. Ok, maybe he was jumping ahead a little too fast. So instead, he reached out and grabbed your hand, feeling the warmth and comfort of it.

“Kidding. Why not turn this into an official date, then?”

“Yeah, I like that.” You said, nodding and squeezing his hand. "I mean, I don't mind getting married right now but we should probably take it slow."

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #luocha #luocha x reader #hsr luocha #hsr luocha x reader #gender neutral reader #🖊─ pocky’s writings

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mengjue · 1 year

Text

What's Happening in China? The November 2022 Protests

Hello! I know that there's so much going on in the world right now, so not everyone may be aware of what is happening in China right now. I thought that I would try to write a brief explainer, because the current wave of protests is truly unprecedented in the past 30+ years, and there is a lot of fear over what may happen next. For context, I'm doing this as someone who has a PhD in Asian Studies specialising in contemporary Chinese politics, so I don't know everything but I have researched China for many years.

I'll post some decent links at the end along with some China specialists & journalists I follow on Twitter (yeah I know, but it's still the place for the stuff at the moment). Here are the bullet points for those who just want a brief update:

Xi Jinping's government is still enacting a strict Zero Covid policy enforced by state surveillance and strict lockdowns.

On 24 November a fire in an apartment in Urumqi, Xinjiang province, killed 10. Many blamed strict quarantine policies on preventing evacuation.

Protests followed and have since spread nationwide.

Protesters are taking steps not seen since Tiananmen in 1989, including public chants for Xi and the CCP to step down.

Everyone is currently unsure how the government will respond.

More in-depth discussion and links under the cut:

First a caveat: this is my own analysis/explanation as a Chinese politics specialist. I will include links to read further from other experts and journalists. Also, this will be quite long, so sorry about that!

China's (aka Xi Jinping's) Covid Policy:

The first and most important context: Xi has committed to a strict Zero Covid policy in China, and has refused to change course. Now, other countries have had similar approaches and they undoubtedly saved lives - I was fortunate to live in New Zealand until this year, and Prime Minister Ardern's Zero Covid approach in 2020-2021 helped protect many. The difference is in the style/scope of enforcement, the use of vaccines, and the variant at play. China has stepped up its control on public life over the past 10 years, and has used this to enforce strict quarantine measures without full regard to the impact on people's lives - stories of people not getting food were common. Quarantine has also become a feared situation, as China moves people to facilities often little better than prisons and allegedly without much protection from catching Covid within. A personal friend in Zhengzhou went through national, then provincial, then local quarantines when moving back from NZ, and she has since done her best to avoid going back for her own mental and physical health. Xi has also committed China to its two home-grown vaccines, Sinovac and Sinopharm, both of which have low/dubious efficacy and are considered ineffective against new variants. Finally, with delta and then omicron most of the Zero-Covid countries have modified their approach due to the inability to maintain zero cases. China remains the only country still enacting whole-city eradication lockdowns, and they have become more frequent to the point that several are happening at any given time. The result is a population that is incredibly frustrated and losing hope amidst endless lockdowns and perceived ineffectiveness to address the pandemic.

Other Issues at Play:

Beyond the Covid situation, China is also wrestling with the continued slowdown in its economic growth. While its economic rise and annual GDP growth was nigh meteoric from the 80s to the 00s, it has been slowing over the past ten years, and the government is attempting to manage the transition away from an export-oriented economy to a more fully developed one. However, things are still uncertain, and Covid has taken its toll as it has elsewhere the past couple of years. Youth unemployment in particular is reaching new highs at around 20%, and Xi largely ignored this in his speech at the Party Congress in October (where he entered an unprecedented third term). As a result of the perceived uselessness of China's harsh work culture and its failure to result in a better life, many young Chinese have been promoting 躺平 tǎng píng or "lying flat", aka doing the bare minimum just to get by (similar to the English "quiet quitting"). The combination of economic issues and a botched Covid approach is important, as these directly affect the lives of ordinary middle-class Chinese, and historical it has only been when this occurred that mass movements really took off. The most famous, Tiananmen in 1989, followed China's opening up economic reforms and the dismantling of many economic safety nets allowing for growing inequality. While movements in China often grow to include other topics, having a foundation in something negatively impacting the average Han Chinese person's livelihood is important.

The Spark - 24 Nov 2022 Urumqi Apartment Fire:

The current protests were sparked by a recent fire that broke out in a flat in Urumqi, capital of the Xinjiang province. (This is the same Xinjiang that is home to the Uighur people, against whom China has enacted a campaign of genocide and cultural destruction.) The fire occurred in the evening and resulted in 10 deaths, which many online blamed on the strict lockdown measures imposed by officials, who prevented people from leaving their homes. It even resulted in a rare public apology by city officials. However, with anger being so high nationwide, in addition to many smaller protests that have occurred over the past two years, this incident has ignited a nationwide movement.

The Protests and Their Significance:

The protests that have broken out over the past couple of days representing the largest and most significant challenge to the leadership since the 1989 Tiananmen movement. Similar to that movement, these protests have occurred at universities and cities across the country, with many students taking part openly. This scale is almost unseen in China, particularly for an anti-government protest. Other than Tiananmen in 1989, the most widespread movements that have occurred have been incidents such as the protest of the 1999 Belgrade bombings or the 2005 and then 2012 anti-Japanese protests, all of which were about anger toward a foreign country.

Beyond the scale the protests are hugely significant in their message as well. Protesters are publicly shouting the phrases "习近平下台 Xí Jìnpíng xiàtái!" and "共产党下台 Gòngchǎndǎng xiàtái!", which mean "Xi Jinping, step down/resign!" and "CCP, step down/resign!" respectively. To shout a direct slogan for the government to resign is unheard of in China, particularly as Xi has tightened control of civil society. And people are doing this across the country in the thousands, openly and in front of police. This is a major challenge for a leader and party who have prioritised regime stability as a core interest for the majority of their history.

Looking Ahead:

Right now, as of 15:00 Australian Eastern time on Monday, 28 November 2022, the protests are only in their first couple of days and we are unsure as to how the government will respond. Police have already been seen beating protesters and journalists and dragging them away in vehicles. However, in many cases the protests have largely been monitored by police but still permitted to occur. There seems to be uncertainty as to how they want to respond just yet, and as such no unified approach.

Many potential outcomes exist, and I would warn everyone to be careful in overplaying what can be achieved. Most experts I have read are not really expecting this to result in Xi's resignation or regime change - these things are possible, surely, but it is a major task to achieve and the unity & scale of the protest movement remains to be fully seen. The government may retaliate with a hard crackdown as it has done with Tiananmen and other protests throughout the years. It may also quietly revamp some policies without publicly admitting a change in order to both pacify protesters and save face. The CCP often uses mixed tactics, both coopting and suppressing protest movements over the years depending on the situation. Changing from Zero Covid may prove more challenging though, given how much Xi has staked his political reputation on enforcing it.

What is important for everyone online, especially those of us abroad, is to watch out for the misinformation campaign the government will launch to counter these protests. Already twitter is reportedly seeing hundreds of Chinese bot accounts mass post escort advertisements using various city names in order to drown out protest results in the site's search engine. Chinese officials will also likely invoke the standard narrative of Western influence and CIA tactics as the reason behind the protests, as they did during the Hong Kong protests.

Finally, there will be a new surge of misinformation and bad takes from tankies, or leftists who uncritically support authoritarian regimes so long as they are anti-US. An infamous one, the Qiao Collective, has already worked to shift the narrative away from the protests and onto debating the merits of Zero Covid. This is largely similar to pro-Putin leftists attempting the justify his invasion of Ukraine. Always remember that the same values that you use to criticise Western countries should be used to criticise authoritarian regimes as well - opposing US militarism and racism, for example, is not incompatible with opposing China's acts of genocide and state suppression. If you want further info (and some good sardonic humour) on the absurd takes and misinfo from pro-China tankies, I would recommend checking out Brian Hioe in the links below.

Finally, keep in mind that this is a grass-roots protest made by people in China, who are putting their own lives at risk to demonstrate openly like this. There have already been so many acts of bravery by those who just want a better future for themselves and their country, and it is belittling and disingenuous to wave away everything they are doing as being just a "Western front" or a few "fringe extremists".

Links:

BBC live coverage page with links to analysis and articles

ABC (Australia) analysis

South China Morning Post analysis

Experts & Journalists to Check Out:

Brian Hioe - Journalist & China writer, New Bloom Magazine

Bonnie Glaser - China scholar, German Marshall Fund

Vicky Xu - Journalist & researcher, Australian Strategic Policy Institute

Stephen McDonnell - Journalist, BBC

M Taylor Fravel - China scholar, MIT

New Zealand Contemporary China Research Centre - NZ's hub of China scholarship (I was fortunate to attend their conferences during my PhD there, they do great work!)

If you've reached the end I hope this helps with understanding what's going on right now! A lot of us who know friends and whanau in China are worried for their safety, so please spread the word and let's hope that there is something of a positive outcome ahead.

#孟珏’s china corner #中国 #上海 #习近平 #习近平下台 #共产党下台 #China #Shanghai #China protests #China protests 2022 #Xi Jinping #Xi Jinping step down #CCP step down #Xi Jinping resign #CCP resign #乌鲁木齐 #Urumqi #Urumqi fire #Urumqi apartment fire

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matan4il · 3 months

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Daily update post:

Today, two Palestinian terrorists from the city of Hevron had carried out a combined, multi-scene terrorist attack in the city of Ra'anana, killing one woman in her 70's and wounding at least 17 more people. The exact details are still being investigated, but the two terrorists are said to be from one family, 24 and 44 years old, they were denied a work permit in Israel due to terrorist activity in the past, but someone in Ra'anana agreed to hire them illegally. They have both been arrested. The combined method they used was a stabbing and vehicular terrorist attack, they stabbed people, stole the first car, used it to run people over until they crashed it, then they stole a second, then a third car, and continued ramming into people across several streets, before they were stopped. 7 of the injured are reportedly kids, and at least 3 are seriously wounded.

As 136 hostages are still held captive in Gaza, 100 days after Oct 7, we got some data on the treatment of those released roughly 50 days ago: 85 are still under a nurse's supervision, 2 are still hospitalized, 54 are receiving mental health treatment of one type or another, only 18 have returned home, all the rest are still displaced, out of 40 kidnapped kids, 38 were released, but only 21 have returned to the education system, some in their own schools, some in schools improvised for their evacuated community.

In Turkey, an Israeli soccer player, Sagiv Jehezkel, who plays for a local team, scored a goal for it, and raised his hand, revealing to the cameras that on his bandage, he wrote "100 days," drew the Star of David, and added the date of Oct 7. It's obviously a gesture to the Israeli victims of Hamas, the ones murdered during or hurt by the massacre, and the ones still held in captivity.

For this, Sagiv was condemned by the Turkish Football Association, suspended from his team, which annoounced he'd be fired, and then he was ARRESTED and interrogated by Turkish police. For making a humane gesture to honor his country's victims. This is how Sagiv was portrayed in an antisemitic Turkish cartoon, with blood dripping from his lips, evoking the antisemitic image of the Jews who feed on the blood of non-Jewish kids:

Sagiv has been released after an appearance at court, and flown back to Israel immediately, but the head of the Israel Football Association said they're still worried for 2 more Israeli soccer players and 2 Israeli basketballers, who are currently playing for Turkish teams.

Shabak, the Israeli equivalent of the FBI (also sometimes referred to in English as Shin Beit), has confirmed today that Iran is operating social media platforms in Israel, that allow it to harass the families of the Israeli hostages, and Israeli security forces (for example, by exposing their addresses, or sending them flower bouquets with offensive messages). The Islamist regime of Iran is also using these to collect from surveys personal info on Israeli citizens.

I wanna share with you this screenshot from the article, as a reminder that just because someone says online that they're Jewish, or puts "Jewish" in their account name, doesn't make it so.

The chief rabbi of South Africa, Rabbi Warren Goldstein, in protest of his country's decision to file a false lawsuit against Israel at the International Court of Justice, has changed the customary prayer for the well being of the country. He said: "This government is on the wrong side of history. Its support of Iran and its proxies - Hamas and Hezbollah - encourages a global Jihad,and harms Jews and innocent people worldwide. It's impossible to pray for such a government."

This is 36 years old Osama Abu Assa.

He was a Bedouin, from the village of Tel Sheva. On Oct 7, he was at the Nova music festival, and one of about 367 people who were murdered there. I got to hear several people talking about what a huge heart Osama had, how he was all about giving to others and helping people. May his memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish

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growingstories · 6 months

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Hiding on a Greek island

Eduardo was a successful entrepreneur, running a chain of gyms in the southern part of the country. However, Eduardo had a secret side business involving steroids, which added an element of sketchiness to his otherwise perfect life. Eduardo maintained his physique by working out in his gyms daily, and during the summer, he engaged in various outdoor sports while in winter he indulged in winter sports.

But Eduardo's life took an unexpected turn when his father, a wealthy mafia boss, decided to leave him alone and keep him out of the dangerous mafia business. Despite his father's wishes, Eduardo couldn't help but be drawn to his father's world. Little did he know that fate had something else in store for him.

One day, Eduardo's father warned him to lay low for a couple of weeks, revealing that he was making a tax deal with the government in exchange for some valuable information. He urged Eduardo to hire a bodyguard named Massimo, a former undercover military personnel, to ensure his safety. Following his father's advice, Eduardo hired Massimo to protect him during this uncertain time.

However, things took a dark turn when threatening letters arrived at Eduardo's gyms, warning him that if he didn't pay up, they would come after him instead of his father. A few days later, tragedy struck when his father was killed in a car bombing. Eduardo was devastated by the loss, but he suddenly found himself the main heir to his father's fortune and, reluctantly, the mafia business.

Eduardo made the decision to follow in his father's footsteps but with a twist: he decided to help the government take down criminals instead. As a result, many criminals lost their source of income and were arrested, leaving Eduardo feeling increasingly isolated and vulnerable. The gyms suffered as well, as the steroid trade came to a halt due to fear of police raids.

Eduardo considered hiring more bodyguards to protect himself but Massimo advised against it, warning that it would make his whereabouts known to more people. Instead, Massimo suggested going underground for a few weeks. So Eduardo and Massimo took a private jet and escaped to one of Eduardo's luxurious houses in the south of France.

Life in the French mansion was pleasant, yet monotonous. He would often go for runs with Massimo and enjoy a cup of coffee and a croissant at a small terrace. Despite the tranquility, Eduardo couldn't ignore the fact that his business was suffering, and his gyms were not as profitable due to the halted steroid trade.

As time passed, Eduardo's waistline started to expand, and his jeans became uncomfortably snug. Realizing he needed to make a change, he asked Massimo for a rower to continue his fitness routine. Meanwhile, Massimo took charge of their meals, ordering from local restaurants and ensuring that Eduardo had regular breaks to enjoy delicious food.

However, their peaceful respite didn't last long. Massimo discovered that the manager overseeing Eduardo's real estate was being followed, and in a daring move, he evacuated Eduardo from the French mansion. Unfortunately, during their escape, shots were fired, and Eduardo was wounded in the shoulder and legs. After a month-long hospital stay and a challenging period of rehabilitation, Eduardo was moved to a small Greek island where he owned another property.

On the Greek island, Eduardo's only outside contact was with Stavros, a local fisherman who brought groceries and fresh baked goods to him. Despite their seclusion, Massimo ensured that Eduardo could continue running his business through a secured internet connection. As the months passed, Eduardo's lack of movement, combined with the constant flow of delicious Greek food and pastries, caused his weight to skyrocket.

It wasn't until one Christmas when Eduardo ventured into the village that he encountered Alexios, the attractive son of a local bakery owner. Eduardo was instantly smitten and couldn't bear to be away from Alexios. Massimo facilitated their meetings, ensuring Eduardo's safety, and soon, Alexios became a regular guest at their dinners, often providing decadent desserts.

Eduardo's relationship with Alexios further contributed to his weight gain, as the bakery owner's son constantly showered him with high-calorie treats. Despite the weight gain, Eduardo embraced his new life on the Greek island. He rarely left his house during the summer months, basking in the sun and enjoying his lover's company.

After spending two years in seclusion, Massimo believed it was safe for Eduardo to return to Italy. Although Eduardo had grown accustomed to his isolated life and running his business remotely, he decided to stay on the Greek island, with Alexios joining him.

Not content with idleness, Eduardo proposed a plan to the island's mayor to develop a spa retreat on a prime piece of land. This venture aimed to attract wealthy clientele and infuse a steady stream of income into the local economy. With this project to focus on, Eduardo's life became more fulfilling, and he had a legitimate reason to stay on the island.

And so, Eduardo's life took a different path from what he had imagined. While his waistline had expanded, he had found love and contentment on the tranquil Greek island. His days were now spent attending to his business and enjoying the company and delectable treats provided by Alexios. Despite the challenges he faced, Eduardo had a created new life that truly suited him.

#fictionalweightgain #maleweightgain #maleweightgainstories #weightgain #weightgainstories #fictionalstories #wg fantasy #wg fiction #exjock

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is-the-snake-video-cute · 8 months

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Had to evacuate my building tonight due to a fire alarm and it made me appreciate that my snakes travel container had a handle. I was alone so handled both the dog and the snake, the handle made things so much easier. (Turns out some dork was smoking in the laundry room)

Everyone is fine but I wanted to ask, have you ever had to evacuate with your snakes? Either way are there any tips you’d give new snake owners for how to evacuate safely?

I've had to evacuate with my snakes a few times when I lived in garbage apartments with hair-trigger fire alarms, and thankfully I got it down to something of a science! Here's what I always recommend.

I keep large plastic bins, the kinds with locking lids. I actually prefer ones with wheels for this just in case because they're easier to move around with, but the locking lid is the only must-have.

And that bin is your designated emergency tub. Inside, keep these things:

Travel bins for all your snakes. They do not have to be big, just make sure they have latching lids. Little bit of substrate in there, one small hide, and a small water bowl. Write their names on the lids so you can avoid any confusion if you have to evacuate fast.

Another small bin with a snake first-aid kit, just in case your snake is hurt and you can't get them to the vet right away. Antiseptic, reptile shedding aid spray, gauze bandages, medical tape.

Extra heat mats - in a pinch, you can prop them up along the sides of your travel bins. You probably won't have room for thermostats in your emergency kits, but heat mats on the sides of bins are safe in a pinch.

If you have to get out fast and you don't have time to put all the snakes in their own bins, you can just put them in the main tub and sort them out once you're all safe - that's why the locking lid is a must-have! The only snakes that won't work for are ophiophagus (snake-eating) ones like kingsnakes - with them, the extra time is needed to get them in their individual bins if you can take it.

Emergency bins like this are things I hope no one reading this will ever need, but being prepared will help evacuations go much more smoothly.

#not a rating #snake emergencies

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