#and saved for winter

[oftwodarkmoons]

I was tagged by @holmesandwhatson. Thank you! Here are some books I want to read in 2025.

I'll tag @jacquesdemys, @norashelley, @tish-tish-tish, @aryasnow, @botticellis-primavera, @jadecoded, @deadhamlet

[abo-ataa]

Urgent Appeal After a Heavy Rainy Day

Hello friends on Tumblr, I’m reaching out to you today with a heavy heart after a tough winter day filled with heavy rain that has flooded our tents. Just think about how a small child feels waking up in the middle of the night to find their bed soaked, or how a mother feels watching her children suffer from the cold and illness. The water has overwhelmed our tents, and we are facing challenges that are hard to bear. The biting cold is relentless, and our children are paying the price. We urgently need your support to provide new tents that can keep rainwater out, so we can protect our families and give our children the safety and warmth they deserve. Please, share this appeal and be a voice for those who have none. Every bit of help, no matter how small, will make a significant difference in our lives. Thank you from the depths of our hearts for your support and for standing by us.

PayPal Link

Or send directly to https://paypal.me/rhmahh

@fairuzfan @90-ghost @jehadism @irhabiya @sayruq @sar-soor @mrala @scodoz @youngmanhattanite @clientsfromhell @miametropolis @jujusjunk @mazzikah @irhabiya @terroristiraqis @stuckinapril@feluka @tortiefrancis @timetravellingkitty @flouryhedgehog @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako @anneemay @bedufairy @briarhips @dirhwangdaseul @mahoushojoe @rhubarbspring @schoolhater @starstrucksnowing @handsworthsongs @determinate-negation @khanger @kibumkim @qattdraws @brutaliakhoa @libraryposting @geeseareassholes @wellwaterhysteria @deepspaceboytoy @edwordsmyth @chilewithcarnage @psychotic-gerard @post-brahminism @bringmemyrocks @arslanjae @reduxskullduggerry @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @kyra45-helping-others @log6 @7bitter @sharingresourcesforpalestine @neechees @mothblossoms @gothhabiba @mangocheesecakes @toiletpotato @fromjannah @palms-upturned @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @lacecap @littlestpersimmon @socalgal @ghelgheli @northgazaupdates2 @vakarians-babe @ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @communistchilchuck @dykesbat @watermotif @mavigator @capricornpropaganda @communist-ojou-sama @xinakwans @heritageposts @velvety

[wreniriis]

Bleeding Heart

[hanaridulsetcheese]

the cowboy rule - bucky barnes

warning - contains 18+ content

You’d been in Texas for three weeks, and every second of it felt like culture shock with a splash of sunburn.

The heat clung to your skin like a second layer, thick and humid, and the wide, dusty roads felt like they led to nowhere. People were kind, too kind.

Strangers tipped their hats and called you "ma'am," which still made you blink like they were speaking another language.

But the best part of moving here?

James Buchanan Barnes. Or, as everyone called him, Bucky.

You met him on your second day, when your rental car got stuck on a back road and he pulled up in a beat-up Chevy truck, boots dusty and smile easy.

“Looks like you took a wrong turn, doll.” he’d smiled.

He helped you out, then made it his personal mission to show you around the small town. Introduced you to the good barbecue joint, took you horseback riding, showed you where to get the best iced tea.

You weren’t sure if it was his jawline, the Southern charm, or the way he always touched the small of your back, but James Bucky Barnes had burrowed deep under your skin.

That weekend, there was a little throwdown at the local tavern. Live music, whiskey, and dancing. Bucky told you to come, that he’d be there. You weren’t sure if he meant it as a date, but you wanted to go anyway.

So you did. You wore denim shorts and a tied-up flannel shirt, not quite blending in but looking just enough the part to be welcomed. The music was loud, feet stomping against the wooden floors as couples twirled in time to the fiddle.

You didn’t see Bucky at first, so you ordered a drink and swayed to the beat near the corner of the room. Dancing alone. Not caring. You could feel eyes on you, this town was small, after all but you were having fun.

And then he appeared.

Strolling through the crowd like he owned it, hat tilted just right, jeans hugging his thighs, that ever-present glint in his eye.

He didn’t say a word as he approached. Just smiled that cocky, slow grin and plucked the hat off his own head.

Then placed it right on yours.

You blinked, not sure of the hat on your head, “James?”

Bucky leaned close, breath brushing your ear. “You’re wearing my hat, doll. You know what that means?”

You shook your head slowly, already breathless at the close proximity.

He smirked. “You wear a man’s hat, you take him for a ride.”

Your heart stuttered. The bar faded around you. His fingers dipped under the edge of the hat, adjusting it just so, then trailing down your neck with a featherlight touch that left goosebumps in their wake.

“You gonna follow the rule?” he murmured.

You swallowed. “Yeah. I think I will.”

His house sat on the outskirts of town, secluded enough that when he backed you up against the door and kissed you like he’d been starving for it, there was no one around to hear your gasp.

Bucky was all rough hands and controlled strength, lifting you like you weighed nothing and pinning you against the wall, grinding his hips into yours as your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively.

“You been teasing me since the day I met you,” he growled, lips dragging along your throat, teeth grazing the skin just hard enough to make your breath hitch.

“Swaying those hips, looking at me with those eyes. Know what you do to a man?”

“James-”

He silenced you with another kiss, this one deeper, filthier, tongue pushing into your mouth with purpose.

His hands roamed, cupping your ass, then spanking it hard enough to make you whimper and cling tighter.

“That’s sir tonight, doll.” he corrected, voice thick with heat. “You wearing my hat. Means you’re mine.”

“Yours,” you whispered, voice trembling.

He carried you to the bedroom, tossing you onto the bed like a rag doll. The hat stayed on. Bucky made sure of it.

“Don’t you dare take it off,” he said, stripping his shirt and revealing that sculpted chest you’d imagined too many times.

He undid his belt with slow, deliberate movements, letting the anticipation curl hot and tight in your stomach. “Looks too good on you.”

Then he was on you. Mouth at your collarbone, hands everywhere, peeling your clothes away like wrapping from a present. His palms skated over your bare skin, thumbs brushing your nipples until they peaked. You arched into him with a gasp.

He kissed a line down your stomach, dragging his stubble along the sensitive flesh and making you squirm.

Then his mouth was between your thighs, tongue flat against your clit, slow and torturous.

“Fuck.” you breathed, threading your fingers into his hair, holding him between your things.

“You taste like heaven,” he groaned, lips slick and hungry. His fingers worked in tandem, curling inside you just right, thumb circling your clit with maddening precision. “You gonna come for me, doll? Come on your sir’s tongue like a good girl?”

You broke with a cry, legs trembling as your orgasm hit hard and fast. “Sir!”

He didn’t stop. Licked you through it, over and over, until you were shivering from overstimulation and begging for more.

When he finally pulled away, his mouth and chin were wet, and his pupils were blown wide with lust.

“Still with me?” he rasped.

You nodded, dazed, only for him to flip you onto your stomach and pull your hips up.

You felt the blunt head of his cock press against your entrance, and then he was inside. Slowly, inch by inch, filling you completely.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, both hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “Taking my cock like you were made for it. So fucking pretty in my hat.”

He set a punishing rhythm, hips slapping against yours with every thrust, the sounds obscene and raw.

You were half-wild beneath him, cheek pressed to the mattress, hands gripping the sheets.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he said, grabbing the brim of the hat still perched on your head and tugging it back, forcing your face to tilt toward him. “Tell me who owns you.”

“You, sir. It’s you. Yours!” you gasped through each thrust.

“Damn right.”

He pulled out suddenly, flipping you onto your back again and plunging in even deeper, one hand around your throat, thumb stroking gently as contrast to the brutal snap of his hips.

“I want to watch you fall apart,” he murmured, eyes locked on your face as he fucked you harder. “Want to see you come with my name on your lips and my hat on your head.”

You did. You shattered beneath him, second orgasm wracking through you like a wave. He followed with a groan, spilling inside you and collapsing onto your body, the sweat-slicked heat of him wrapping around you like a blanket.

Even then, he didn’t pull out right away just stayed there, buried deep, mouth at your ear.

“Don’t think you’re getting away from me now.” he murmured.

You smiled sleepily against him, the brim of his hat brushing your forehead.

“Didn’t plan to.”

The next morning you woke to the smell of bacon and fresh coffee.

For a second, you didn’t know where you were. The sunlight was warm, the sheets soft, and your body was very sore in all the right places.

Then you shifted.

And the cowboy hat fell off your head, landing on your face.

You snorted a sleepy laugh, brushing it away and blinking at the bright morning light filtering through the window. The hat still smelled like him, leather, cedarwood, and just a hint of smoke.

And last night. God, last night.

You were never going to look at that hat the same again.

Padding out of the bedroom with the sheet wrapped around you, you followed the sound of sizzling into the kitchen. And there he was.

James Bucky Barnes. Your cowboy.

Still shirtless, wearing those same jeans from the night before, hung low on his hips now and whistling as he flipped a piece of bacon in the pan.

He looked up when he saw you and gave you the softest damn smile you’d ever seen.

“Well, morning, doll.” he said, voice all low and husky.

You leaned against the doorway, biting back a grin. “You cook too? What don’t you do?”

He chuckled. “Plenty. But breakfast ain’t one of ‘em. You hungry?”

You nodded, stepping into the kitchen, sheet trailing behind you like some ridiculous lacy robe.

He handed you a mug of coffee without even asking how you liked it. One sip told you he already knew.

“James,” you said between sips, eyeing him playfully, “you’re being very sweet this morning.”

His brow quirked. “That a bad thing?”

You laughed and leaned against the counter. “No, it’s just funny. You were so…” You paused, pretending to search for the right word. “Interesting last night.”

Bucky’s ears turned pink.

“Doll,” he drawled, turning off the stove, “a man’s got layers.”

You grinned. “Oh, you’ve got layers, alright. One minute it’s ‘yes, sir’ and a whole lot of- ” you gestured to his shirtless self.

He groaned and ran a hand over his face. “and the next, you’re frying bacon and makin’ me coffee like a perfect southern gentleman.”

He turned and gently caged you against the counter, one hand braced beside your hip.

“I can be both,” he murmured, eyes twinkling as he leaned down. “Real rough when I wanna be,real sweet when you need it.”

Your breath hitched. Even now, he could melt you with a few words.

“But you’re not sore, are you?” he added softly, brushing a thumb across your cheek.

Your face flushed. “I am, actually. A little.”

He gave you a slow, satisfied smile. “Then I did it right.”

You let out an embarrassed laugh and smacked his chest lightly, but he just kissed your forehead and handed you a plate.

“Eat up. You’re gonna need your strength,” he teased.

You arched a brow. “Oh?”

“Mhmm,” he said, sitting beside you at the table. “After breakfast, I’m takin’ you out to see the horses. Show you around proper. Maybe get you up on a saddle again.”

You blinked. “Is this a second date or are you just trying to get me sore again?”

He smirked. “Can’t it be both?”

You couldn’t help it you burst out laughing, resting your forehead against the table as he sat there, sipping coffee like he hadn’t just said the most casually filthy thing imaginable in the most charming tone.

Bucky reached over and gently adjusted the hat on your head, which you hadn’t even realized you were still wearing.

“You’re keeping that, by the way,” he said.

“Your hat?” you asked, looking up.

“Mmhm. It looks better on you anyway.”

You shook your head, smiling. “What if I wear it in public?”

He leaned closer, voice soft and honeyed.

“Then everyone’ll know you’re mine.”

And with the way he was looking at you, soft and warm and possessive in the sweetest damn way, you didn’t mind one bit.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

both ethan winters and ashley graham were born in 1984, so i swapped their places

redraw

alt version with pants!

[mapacart]

In their beloved’s colors ❤️💙

[magic-can]

Mohammad needs physical therapy and his family can’t afford it. Please consider donating to their campaign if you can and share regardless.

Their campaign has been shared by 90-ghost (mentioned in the post)

[samerpal]

Winter has arrived…

Its coldness, unsettling stillness, and relentless rains have taken over. Last night was harsh, as the heavy rain flooded our humble tents, leaving behind nothing but cold and suffering.

My children, their small bodies can no longer endure this piercing cold. All I can do is hold them close, but even that is no longer enough to shield them from the cruelty of this weather. Our tiny tent, barely offering us shelter, stands less than 100 meters away from the sea. The crashing waves and roaring winds create a daily battle for us, amplifying the fear in my children during the darkness of the night.

This morning, we woke up to the same exhausting reality. I don’t know if this suffering will ever end or if it will repeat with every new sunrise. Sometimes I wonder: does tomorrow hold any hope for us, or is it just another chapter of pain?

These are not just words, but glinnmpses of the reality of my life and the suffering of my children, for which I can find no solution.

@tamamita @mysharona1987 @radicalgraff @anneemay @pcktknife @buzzy-bee-13 @myceliacrochet @soft-sunbird @jezior0 @a-shade-of-blue @dlxxv-vetted-donations @nabulsi @appsa @determinate-negation @aces-and-angels

[mahmoudna]

While Some Celebrate Christmas 🎄

We’re Drowning in Rain and Cold 🥶

Hello everyone,

My name is Mahmoud Naeem Abu Hatab, a young man displaced from Gaza. While many around the world are celebrating Christmas 🎄, enjoying warm meals and cozy gatherings with loved ones, my family and I are struggling to survive under heartbreaking conditions.

The heavy rain has completely flooded our tent, leaving us shivering in the freezing cold ❄️ without proper shelter, food, or warm clothing. This winter feels like it might be our last if we can’t find help soon.

Our Reality vs. the World’s Joy:

• While homes are lit with decorations and people are exchanging gifts 🎁, we’re battling dampness, hunger, and the biting cold.

• We don’t have blankets, jackets, or even enough food to make it through the day.

• My dream of completing my education and creating a better future is slipping away after losing my laptop during the evacuation.

How You Can Make a Difference:

I’ve started a GoFundMe campaign to raise funds for:

1. Finding a warm, safe place for my family to stay.

2. Buying food, warm clothing, and blankets.

3. Replacing my lost laptop so I can continue my university studies in software development.

Donation Link:

[GoFundMe Campaign Link]

Why Your Help Matters:

This season is about giving and spreading joy ✨. By contributing to our campaign, you can bring warmth and hope to a family in desperate need. No donation is too small—it all helps us move closer to safety and dignity. If you can’t donate, please share our story and campaign link with your friends and family.

A Final Message From the Heart:

While others are singing carols and enjoying festive meals 🍗, we’re drowning in cold rain, praying for survival. Please don’t forget families like mine during this season of giving. Your kindness and generosity can be our lifeline.

Thank you for reading, supporting, and sharing our story. May this holiday season bring blessings to all.

Donation Link Again:

[GoFundMe Campaign Link]

OR USDT

TLns8czyFHsJQWkaAEeza3of5cgEH7vi3n

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

The problem with writing established relationship fics is that the bastards insist on being cute together and won't let you get to the fucking plot.

[kotzwinkled]

that’d be unethical!

[tomboyyyaoi]

[northgazaupdates]

Winter is coming😬🐻‍❄️🌨️🌬️❄️

The Abu Alwan children are in need of winter clothing and supplies!

Gaza has an eastern Mediterranean climate, which includes hot, dry summers and cool, wet winters. Nighttime winter temperatures can easily go below freezing. While this may not seem urgent for healthy, grown adults, it can actually be quite dangerous. Especially for small children, the elderly, and sick and malnourished people—which, after more than a year of constant famine and massacres, includes all of Gaza.

Last year, many people in Gaza were martyred due to hypothermia, particularly small children. The Abu Alwan twins Saba and Qusay were born in springtime 2024, they have never gone through winter before. They have no good weather clothing, and because they are also sickly and malnourished, they are extremely vulnerable to hypothermia.

Please help Saba, Qusay, and their 4 y/o sister Ghina withstand the coming winter. Just a single item of warm clothing for infants costs nearly $50 USD, the family needs your support to be able to afford winter clothes for the children!

You can support the family in 3 different ways:

Venmo @gothhabiba following these directions

GoFundMe donations at this link

Contacting the children’s father Mohammed on WhatsApp at +970 592 440 590

Copy-pasting this link across all your social media accounts: https://gofund.me/b84298b0

Thank you🩵

[falafels]

pt.62!! <pt.61 pt.63>

Trojans!! extra posts because i accidentally forgot one off the last one and because the trojans are such a big team. who i have largely still ignored oopsie

Jean Q&A as the Trojans suicide bombing their way off the internet. They’re all really setting it up as a last stand but the media training is literally just a powerpoint and it’s not going to stop any of them

tags for the homies ❤️ @andrewsleftarmband @blurryhour @you-know-i-get-itt @notexactlythatgirl @longspacerat @tessasilverswan @minyard-05 @carbon-dated-gal @bisexualchaosdemon @stormiiflies @watercoloureyes01 @vampire-overlord @iron-sides @azure-wing @buffalo-fox @ohgodnotagainplease @pink-hydrangea @jaywalkerss @ohmynoggin-blog @cosmic-marauder @min-getoutofmy-yard @plazybones @disastersappho @leestars13 @the-witch-forever-lives @minyardsss @post-historical-posts @andabuttonnose @hidinginmyhands @aftg4l @allfor-thegames @yaoishida @inafieldofstarflowers @snowcoming @mooniism @jeanmoreausautismstickers @prometheusthedragon @graveyardviolence @bustedleftshoe @beatrix33 @aftg-bs @yes-i-exist-shutup @milktemproom @all-for-exy @moon-over-ruined-castle @meta-breakers @oneandonlystarshine @dragonslayer26806 @malepresentingleg @lesbiansforkevinday

[sisalrian]

fem! sambucky save me….. (1st is civil war era to beginning of tfaws and 2nd is post tfaws.) (they’re attending some gala 😽.)

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

guhh... i was so depressed making the mithan one the entire time

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