#A Very Northern Christmas

[penguinpanic]

The tenth game we played was A Very Northern Christmas by Grant Howitt. Jen ran this christmas special in which a multiverse of Sean Bean's team up to break the curse that results in them dying in every film. It’s fair to say that none of us could do a great Sean Bean impression even with the ‘O2’ on ramp but we sure gave it a go!  

[cestacruz]

Beach time's about to begin!

[savetheplanarians]

Ask, and it shall be given unto you (by @ilikethemwings)

why must we network. isn't my kindness and willingness to try to be better everyday enough?

[fluentmoviequoter]

Grumpy, Grumpier, and a Cat

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x grumpy!(kinda)grunge!reader

Summary: You and Tim are on a holiday vacation when your duo of grumpy and grumpier gets an addition just in time for Christmas.

Warnings: mostly fluff, playful arguments, one murder joke

Word Count: 1.3k+ words (sorry it's shorter than some of the others!)

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

“Don’t touch me,” you grumble.

Tim pulls his hand away from your leg and shakes his head. “They look fine,” he replies.

You stick your tongue out of the corner of your mouth to focus as you drag the nail polish brush along the side of your pinky. As soon as you put the cap back on the bottle, Tim lays his hand on your leg and changes the channel, turning off the murder mystery show that you solved fifteen minutes ago to watch the end of a game.

“So?” you ask, holding up your hands.

Tim looks over and nods. “Black, like usual.”

You sigh and extend your legs, stretching them across Tim’s lap.

“Grumpy today, aren’t we?” Tim asks lightly.

“Which isn’t different than yesterday, or the day before that,” you add, turning your head to look at Tim rather than the game.

“Do you know what today is?”

You shrug, and Tim says, “It’s almost our two-year anniversary.”

“We should dress up,” you reply. “Gomez and Morticia?”

“Any excuse not to smile,” Tim says, clicking his tongue to hide his smile.

“You’re just mad because I make you smile,” you point out.

“Pathetic,” Tim mumbles at the television.

“Could’ve told you that. Home Alone comes on in five minutes.”

“Are you serious?”

You meet Tim’s stare and counter, “It’s a kid torturing intruders, what’s not to like?”

Tim sighs, but he tugs your pajama-clad legs farther into his lap. His pants match yours, but his Dodgers sweatshirt is a stark contrast to your black tank top.

“Tim,” you call. He hums, clicking through the channels to find the movie. “It’s snowing.”

Tim looks up, leans over your legs to see out of the darkening window, and his eyes widen when he sees the flurries falling onto the forest floor. It had been his idea to get away from the city for a bit, and when you found this secluded cabin in the northern Los Angeles National Forest, it was an easy decision.

“Excuse me… May I… Is your mother home?” the officer in the movie asks.

You listen to the movie, but your focus is on the snow outside. As the wind picks up and the snowfall grows heavier, you smile. After two years together, Tim knows you well. He knows what you like to wear, your favorite food, all the things that make you grumpy, and the few things you love. Though Tim knows you love him, even when you don’t always show it very well, he also understands that being in love doesn’t automatically mean that you’re happy all the time.

“Hey, let’s go outside for a bit,” you say as Kevin realizes that he’s been left home alone.

Tim begins to argue, then sees the way your eyes light up as you turn toward him and offers his hand to help you stand. You grab your jacket as you exit the sliding glass door onto the snow-covered porch. After you lay your jacket on the snow, you at Tim sit side-by-side on the edge of the porch to watch the snow. He lays his arm around your bare shoulders but doesn’t comment on your lack of a jacket, even as he shakes his head.

Snow begins to coat the ground as the wind howls and flurries thicken into thick sheets of white blanketing the green forest. Leaning your head against Tim’s shoulder, you are content to watch the world around you turn white and forget about everything else. But the peace is soon disturbed.

You straighten from Tim’s side as a strange noise, like a sharp Ree-ow, comes from the trees. Tim’s arm slips from your shoulders as he stands on the snowy step. He looks down at you before searching the tree line. Quietly, you stand behind him but can’t see anything moving in the dark other than the falling snow.

“We should look,” you murmur. “It could be a hurt animal.”

“Or someone coming through the trees,” Tim argues. “I’ll check.”

He steps off the porch, and you roll your eyes before walking the other way. You each start out the outer boundary of the yard and meet in the middle, but there’s nothing to see. Tim shrugs as you shake your head, so you turn back toward the cabin.

“Maybe the abominable snowman got an early start this year,” you joke. “That or we’ll get murdered in our sleep.”

Tim doesn’t comment on your dark joke, but he stops suddenly, and you keep your eyes on him as you do the same. He gestures toward the porch with his hand. Turning, your eyes widen, and you laugh once before moving carefully.

“Hey there,” you murmur. “I don’t want to scare you, buddy.”

The black cat curled up on your jacket raises its head slightly, then burrows further into the warm fabric. You reach the steps and gently lower your hand. As you pet its smooth black coat, brushing stray snowflakes away, it vibrates beneath your touch with happy purrs.

“You just need a nice home, huh?” you ask it.

“No,” Tim interjects. “It needs to go back where it came from.”

You look over your shoulder, and the moment your eyes meet Tim’s, he closes his eyes and sighs. He can’t put up a fight, even if he wanted to, because he’s too invested in you and helping you be happy to deny you of something that brings you joy, especially this close to the holidays.

“It’s Christmas, Tim,” you remind him. You pull the cat against your chest, rubbing its side as it nuzzles its head beneath your chin, and ask, “Please, can the cat stay in the cabin with us so I can take it home? He needs it.”

Tim nods, melting faster than snow in Los Angeles. “Just be careful,” he requests. “We don’t know where it came from.”

“But he’s just a sweet baby,” you whisper to the cat before kissing its head.

“We should go inside,” Tim suggests, grabbing your jacket and eyeing the cat.

“I won’t let him steal all of my attention,” you promise.

Tim huffs as he opens the patio door, and you lift your chin for a kiss before you enter. Inside, you set up a small, warm bed for your new pet before returning to your seat beside Tim. He pulls you against his side as you resume the movie.

As the intruders fail to get through Kevin’s traps in Home Alone, your cat rises from its bed, stretches, and runs across the room to join you on the couch. He curls up between your leg and Tim’s, and you look down at him.

“He needs a name,” you murmur.

“Skellington,” Tim says without hesitation.

You look up at him with furrowed brows, but he only shrugs and continues watching the movie. It’s a good name, you think.

“Hot chocolate,” you whisper suddenly.

“He’s not brown,” Tim says.

“No, not for his name,” you reply. “I want hot chocolate.”

Tim nods but doesn’t move away from you or the cat.

“I think Skellington is a good name,” you decide.

“Maybe he should be Coal.”

“Coal is only for bad boys, and Skellington is good.”

“The Grinch, then.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be making hot chocolate?”

“You’re the one that wants it,” Tim argues.

“Help me out, Skellington.”

“I named the cat. You make the hot chocolate.”

You glare at Tim, but the longer you hold his stare, the less grumpy you get. As you begin to stand, Tim beats you to it, and waves as you complain about him arguing for no reason.

“What are we going to do with him, Skellington?” you whisper.

The cat slaps your left hand, and you answer, “I don’t think we’re quite ready for that.”

Tim listens from the kitchen, and fixes your hot chocolate exactly as you like, and mumbles, “Maybe we are.”

[saintmuses]

❝𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙂𝙤𝙙, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝❞

Pairing:

Ghost!Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary:

“There’s no such thing as ghosts.” Those were the last words before her lack of knowledge of them ceased. You. Just one simple word for what the shadow of a man in her childhood’s home, Arrow House wanted.

Warning(s): SMUT. Dub-con. Implied age gap (obviously, but everyone’s grown). Mentions of death. Exophilia. P in V. Obsession. Depraved??? Possessive!Thomas. Major death at the end (gore-ish). Minors, dni! Note: They didn’t directly interacted when she was a child until she moved back in the house. I’m trying to go for Don’t Blame Me vibes.

Word Count: 5k

Act I

She could hear the wheels rumbling as the gravel hit the bottom of the vehicle they were driving away in. The sky was grey with dense clouds rolling through 

“Y/N?” Her mother’s voice grabbed her attention as the vehicle drove around the fountain, causing her to turn her head away from the window to her mother in the front passenger seat. 

Her mother gently clasped her hand with her nimble fingers, “it’s for the best, honey.” She said gently, looking at her with kind eyes that her heart clenched at the idea of leaving everything she had known behind to move to Northern Ireland for her father’s work.

O’ Children was playing on the radio, and her lips curled up in delight since it was one of her favorite songs she would force her father to play.

Hey, little train, wait for me!

I once was blind, but now I see.

She turned her head to look back to the house they were leaving behind, one of the hired staffs were moving their furnitures into the moving company vehicles, and she observed the state of the manor. Her eyes kept straying to the entrance door that was left wide open, and the stale light was spread throughout the hallway.

Her breathing was ribbed when she noted a translucent figure filling in the gap of the doorway. The figure resembled a man, towering over the domain of the threshold. 

A shadow, her mind whispered. Those words she did not understand, too young for her mind to understand what those words had meant. 

She was far away from the house that she could not tell the features of the man, however, she knew he was watching the vehicle slowly driving down the road past the gates as the house began to get smaller and smaller.

Strangely enough she’d swore she felt like she was leaving the shadow of the man behind.

Hey, little train, wait for me.

I was held in chains, but now I’m free.

Thirteen Years Later

Arrow House stood still as if time had never casted a spell on it, the only signs of the place being affected by time was the cascading vines on the side of the house, the stains on the glass panes of the windows, and the color of the bricks was dull as if the soul had left its host. 

She supposed it did because no one had lived in Arrow House for years.

Not since she was eleven years old and that was thirteen years ago.

She had no idea that the house was still under her parents’ possession, she had thought they sold it when they left the way they left the place.

Her parents died five years ago prior to Christmas, and Johnny Dogs took her in along with Curly who was his only roommate at that time.

For the life of her, she could not figure out why he had preferred to be called Johnny Dogs. He used to make jokes of how he felt like a reincarnated person, but really his parents would call him that.

She paused after placing her hand on the  handle before pushing it sideways to open the door. The hinges squeaked as she pushed inward into the stale hallway, brightly lit by the sun through the windows.

The parlor looked very empty, and lonely that she felt small standing in it. She heard her friends yelling at each other for instructions as they started taking things out of the vehicle.

Her eyes raked the place before her, taking the things that made her remember what she did in the parlor years ago.

As she reminisce, she heard a clang as it hit the floor, her head was drawn to the sound and she spotted an object.

A bronze bullet rolled on the floor as if someone had pushed it down the hallway towards the dining room. She walked towards it after it slowed down to a stop.

She bent over to pick it up, curious 

When she felt slight texture on smooth surface, she twisted the bullet until she saw the carving. She ran her thumb over the name that was etched in the metal.

Tommy

She frowned when she noticed the portrait that taken over the dining room, she had forgotten about it.

She used to play with her toys under the enormous portrait as if it was protecting her from any danger lurking in the dark shadows of the room.

She was surprised it was still on the wall, ageless, she knew what year it was painted; 1923. And yet the canvas did not turn yellow or it was lacking a layer of dust from decades of just hanging on the wall.

It was a figure of the man standing next to the white beautiful horse.

It felt like he was alive in the painting, staring down at her with eyes so cold and empty from the canvas. Iron clad control gripping the manor with the coldness in his gaze. She immediately pocketed the carved bullet into her jeans when she heard Curly’s voice, questioning about the portrait considering it was the only wall decoration hanging on the wall, every room and hallways in the manor were barren.

“I think we tried to take it down, but it refused to budge so we left it there.” She shrugged, frowning at Curly’s facial expression.

“It’s creepy,” he shuddered, letting out a light whimper before walking towards the entrance to return his tasks.

She rolled her eyes before turning to look at the portrait again.

She’d swore she saw a mere smirk curling on a stoic man’s face.

Perhaps Curly was right, the portrait was displaying creepy undertones.

Act II

The sun was barely rising above the horizon when she was dragged out of the bed due to the sounds of echoing loading off the weapon. 

Her fingers grappled onto the white curtains, and pushed it off to the side until she could see out of the bay window. She frowned when she only saw a heavy thick haze rolling around across the fields. She loved the morning dews, but hated the thick fogs in the morning.

The sun was coming up, but the fields were  in a state of stale gray and muddied in a way it would look like it came out of Texas Chainsaw Massacre film. The film gave her nightmares when she was younger until she grew up, and was able to get over her aversion of horror films.

However, she did not think she got over the aversion of paranormal activities that had been occurring in the last several days since they had moved into the manor.

She had sworn she saw a shadow gliding across the field. The shadow raised something in the air, aiming it at something.

She flinched when the sound of gunshots went off, her fingers dig into the material of the curtains as the fog thickened and then the gunshots stopped firing.

The walls were quite thin in a way where she could hear the door swinging open and hefty footsteps were being made on the hardwood floor on the other side of the house.

“Bloody hell was that?” She heard Johnny shouting down the hallway causing her to turn her head towards her bedroom door.

She tittered before returning her gaze back to the fields from afar, only to see it was empty of fog and it was coming alive in a sense as the sun casted its light on the fields.

She frowned. Had she been seeing things?

“Nothing!” She shouted back after she dragged the curtains to block out the morning light through the window.

Johnny dragged out a box onto the coffee table in the library. The box had a stale cream borders on the front of it along with the design of a board and a planchette, and thick letters in the style that resembled to the sixties or the seventies. A Ouija board.

“What is that?” She asked flatly, recognizing the box as she sat down on the soft threaded rug next to the coffee table. However, she waited for her friend to confirm it for her.

She eyed the box with distaste. She had never used one before because the idea of it was ridiculous. Not only that, but her mother had expressively forbidden the board in this house. Something about not wanting to draw spirits into their home. While Johnny lifted the lid of the box to set it up, she spent her time observing the environment around her. The walls were lined with shelves and books especially scholar books. 

The books on the shelves had not been touched in years that it was layered with dust and moth bites along with the smell of old parchment between pages. She loved the smell of old books, but she hated the smell of dust. She could tell when she was living in the house they only cleaned the ordinated desk and other furniture they actually used. The books were merely placed as decorations despite it had not moved in years since the previous owner’s -prior to her parents- death.

She heard Curly stepping into the library and she turned her head to see him eyeing the board set up fearfully. “I don’t know about this,” he mumbled, shifting his feet nervously. “I don’t want to disturb the spirits.”

“For the last time, Curly. It is not haunted.” She said sharply, eyeing him with slight annoyance. She loved Curly, but his thoughts would get the best of him. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

It still did not explain strange occurrences that had been happening around the manor, although she would never admitted to her friends.

The righteous indignant expressions would be sent to her way and she would never hear the end of it at all. She loved her boys, but they can be a little too much when paranoia would get the best of them.

“Oi! Are you trying to drive us out of here when we barely lived in this place?” Johnny complained before instructing Curly, “sit down.”

Curly sat down next to her by the coffee table after setting up the fireplace with a few wooden logs to start off with.

She plucked the planchette from Johnny’s grip, setting it on the board on the 'G' as the thin white paper instructed her. They each placed a hand on the piece as she read the instructions in her other hand.

“Johnny since you want to cause chaos tonight, why won’t you be the first to start us off.” She said flatly, Curly nodded in agreement.

Johnny gave them a glare before grumbling. “Are there any spirits with us tonight?”

For a moment, it was completely silent as they all waited with bated breath to see if the planchette would move. A minute ticked by, and then another.

“Are there any spirits with us in this room?” She asked firmly.

They waited for another minute before a strong smell began to overtake the surrounding.

She inhaled sharply, wrinkling her nose, recognizing the scent of tobacco burning from years prior when she was a child. None of her parents were smokers, and she had concluded it was one of the memories of the room. However her eyes widened when she felt the object beneath her fingers shifting.

The planchette moved to the word YES.

Her eyes shot at Johnny’s wide eyes before returning her gaze to the object. Curly whimpered next to her.

She hesitated before she asked, “what is your name?” 

The planchette moved slowly across the board as it targeted the letters.

It stopped on the letter in the middle on the second row, “T.” Then it barely moved to the first row and landed on the letter next to G, “H.” The next letter ended up on the letter “O” on the second row on the other side of the board, then the planchette landed on the last letter of the first row, “M” then it moved across the first row to the first letter which was “A”. At last it stopped on the letter on the second row next to T, “S.”

THOMAS

Tommy? She asked to herself, remembering the engraved name in the bullet sitting on top of her dresser.

“What do you want, Thomas?” She questioned shakily, remembering the ghosts would have their own unfinished businesses whether they were tethered to something.

YOU

It was a declaration. A warning, a reminder, and an order all in one. To her, it was just downright terrifying. Nevertheless, she snapped herself out of her daze of shock.

“We’re done,” she muttered indignantly, pushing herself off the floor until she stood then she snatched the board. The planchette flew off to the side due to the aggression she inflicted on the board.

“Wait! No-“ she heard Curly attempted to stop her.

“You have to say goodbye before-“

She threw the decorated laminated cardboard into the fireplace, and she ignored the commotion of Curly’s voice as it reached a shaky high pitch.

“I said we are done with it. It’s stupid, and pointless!” She glared at them before turning on her heels to storm out of the library.

She would never tell them that she was terrified.

Act III

With soft echoes of her footsteps as she reached to her bedroom, creaks radiating as to reflect the true age of the house she was currently residing in. She turned the brassy knob opening the door, but she frowned when she felt something different in the air. As if the air particles were stilted, as if it was disturbed.

With her eyes, she scanned the bedroom and something caught her gaze. She zeroed in the direction where there was something on the mattress.

She found a simple sheet on the edge of the bed, recognizing the parts of the poetry to one of her favorite collection of poems.

Now Bonnie and Clyde are the Barrow gang

I'm sure you all have read.

how they rob and steal;

and those who squeal,

are usually found dying or dead.

There's lots of untruths to these write-ups;

they're not as ruthless as that.

their nature is raw;

they hate all the law,

the stool pigeons, spotters and rats.

They call them cold-blooded killers

they say they are heartless and mean.

But I say this with pride

that I once knew Clyde,

when he was honest and upright and clean.

But the law fooled around;

kept taking him down,

and locking him up in a cell.

Till he said to me;

"I'll never be free,

so I'll meet a few of them in hell"

If they try to act like citizens

and rent them a nice little flat.

About the third night;

they're invited to fight,

by a sub-gun's rat-tat-tat.

They don't think they're too smart or desperate

they know that the law always wins.

They've been shot at before;

but they do not ignore,

that death is the wages of sin.

Some day they'll go down together

they'll bury them side by side.

To few it'll be grief,

to the law a relief

but it's death for Bonnie and Clyde.

Her eyes widened when there was something made known of a presence when she felt one hand running firmly up the length of her back to rest on the back of her neck. 

The sound of the paper crinkling before it floated into the air as it fell down to the ground.

She was frozen at this point, not budging at all, her breath caught in her throat before her eyes closed and squeezed tightly as if she could make whatever was touching her disappear.

It had to be him. It had got to be. There were absolutely no explanations for what she had gone through in the last few hours. No, scratch that, for the last few days.

The one who turned her world upside down with its presence through what she had thought a simple silly game when it turned out it was not a child’s game to play. Absolutely not a game for children nor for someone like her or her beloved friends, Johnny and Curly.

She felt something lingering in the crook of her shoulder, and her breathing stilled even more when she felt what she recognized as a face nearing her neck, the tip of his nose ghosting on her skin before she felt his lips followed.

Immediately, she stepped away, her eyes wide as she slowly turned around to face the bay window of her bedroom, her chest now heaving to compensate for the painful chilling moment.

She blinked at the reflection of the wide glass panes pathetically, the moon casted its own light on her through the window. She felt completely out of place because there was no one there except the shadows of the night of the moon.

She was so fucking pretty.

He hadn’t been able to appreciate finer, beautiful things after his death. 

When he put a bullet in his own brain, ending his own cursed life. He hadn’t anticipated to return to the house that held nothing but stagnant moments with good times that were very few and far between.

He had thought about implanting explosives in the house and let it blow all up, to destroy a extensive piece of his past because he once believed that the past was the past and it wasn’t his to be concerned about anymore.

However, in that last moment before walking out of the godforsaken place, he had changed his mind and changed the orders for his men to remove it from the manor but he knew Lizzie and his son, Charlie would not come back to this place. He did not want them to, regardless.

Looking back prior to his death, he was relieved he did not destroy it.

For the fact the woman standing before his being was the reason he was able to experience her presence. 

For the past several days, he didn’t lose sight of her and followed her for a while, still hidden by the shadows of light and time except the trinkets and reminders he would leave around for her to find.

He would be there, chasing her down the corridors at night without her knowing.

When he was alive, he used women as a way to escape his mundane life despite it was filled with danger and enemies and never a moment to rest except in death.

He had experienced displeasure when his remaining siblings, Arthur, Finn and Ada agreed to sell Arrow House a few years after he died because it was too much for them to live in the house that held nothing for them anymore.

He had been pleasantly surprised by the fact he was able to enjoy her presence back when she was a child. He had enjoyed the presence of children when he was alive, but life got in the way of him being able to be the person he had wish to become. As a ghost, he hadn’t been able to surround children for the fact there were not many tenets with children. He had observed her throughout time, noticing how she was mindless to her surroundings, untouched by the cruelty of the world that bestowed since the dawn of time. It had made him feel protective of the child who played with her toys under the portrait in the dining hall. It was easier to keep an eye on her from the things that could potentially hurt her. 

He had never thought he would be angry with the thought of her and her family leaving the manor behind, forgotten as they moved onto the next chapter of their lives. No one in his life stayed for him, not in the way he wanted them to. He wanted them to stay for him, not for what he could provide. He felt the same way when the family left the manor despite him being a ghost.

Now time had passed and she got older while he stayed the same, frozen by the law of nature.

And she, she had come back to the manor when she had no reason to. He had felt alive and things had changed the moment he laid his eyes on her again when he saw her presence climbing out of a vehicle along with two men he had recognized in his previous life.

He traced his fingers across his trouser-cladded thigh. He had never thought he would be aching to slide his thick, heavy cock between her thighs that were exposed under her pajama shorts. 

He had never thought of her as anything but someone to protect. Until she stepped into the Arrow House again.

However, nothing could destroy the pleasure of the fact she chose his old room as her oasis, her bedroom, a room for her to find peace in her own space.

He leaned forward, easing himself around her figure, brushing his knuckles against her shoulder to stroke her warm skin gently.

He could touch her now. A touch-starved man was a dangerous beast.

Whatever it was thirteen years ago prior to her leaving, it was the past. It was glaringly obvious that the past was a different life. 

Far from this one.

A sudden predatory arm snaked around her waist causing a gasp from her lips. Out of pure instinct, her hands reached down and gripped tightly onto his forearm attempting to push it away. Snatching her back into his broad warm chest birthed a panic attack in her.

She was exactly where she dreaded being - right where he wanted her to be. She nearly forgot what it was like to be trapped within the dark embrace of any kind.

His muscles held her tightly like a second skin and yet brought an ounce of fear the woman had never felt before until she moved into the damn Arrow House.

Another gasp slipped from her mouth as he brought her head back with a slow but forceful movement of his hand, letting the crown of her head tip back against his shoulder. She trembled, keeping her eyes as straight as she could while her hands gripped onto him for life. The fear of the unknown made her head swirl as the thought of being completely hostage by him.

She tried her best to remind herself that she would not die because he was a goddamn shadow. However, she had seen too many poltergeist movies to know she could die.

She bit down on her lower lip to prevent any other sound from leaving her mouth until she felt it. His other hand crawled its way up to her stomach.

Feeling the weight of his fingers and palm drag slowly up her abdomen, he was unpredictable and that made this all the more worse. His nose now met the tip of her right ear, causing the girl to shiver as her eyes closed tightly. He nuzzled the smooth skin of her ear. All she could hear was his steady deep breathing, lightly rising with each movement of his chest, until a deep intentional breath filled her ears.

He was smelling her hair, releasing a deep exhale as if he could finally settle and she found herself frozen in place especially when she could see him now. 

Exactly like the man in the portrait in the dining room.

Thomas.

She tried to move her head, to avoid his lips, but he already had his hands out, chasing her face to close the distance. 

He embellished the feeling of her soft skin underneath the pads of his fingertips by gently grabbing the both sides of her pretty face.

A groan slipped out from his lips as it rumbled in his throat when he finally finally felt her lips with his own. Desperation that was brimming the moment he knew she could see him and touch him washed over him, and his hands immediately captured her face as he had found out he could touch her.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “Y/N, love.”

It was as if her fault for making him lose his breath, her fault for keeping them apart like this despite not knowing it was him was what drove her away, his lungs collapsed. He nibbled and bit her lower lip in punishment. Between sudden breaths, he worshipped her with his mouth and hands to the point of terror.

“Thomas,” she let out a protest, her fingers clenching his shoulders to push him away. Only there was no use.

Ignoring her, a growl pulling his lip ever so slightly as he captured her lips again in a searing kiss. Teeth catching onto her upper lip before opening his mouth to devour her bottom lip as well.

He spun her away from him before pushing her against the mattress while she had struggled against him.

Without letting her move, he had began to remove her clothes, and his eventually joined the pile. He didn’t care for anything but to be inside of her.

He pushed her flailing legs apart before nestling between them.

His cock was trailing up and down the folds of her cunt. The head got caught on her opening for just a moment and sent a shock of electrical pleasure throughout his entire body.

He rumbled lowly in his chest as the thick tip of his shaft pushed through the opening, making her inner muscles give out as he started pushing inside with the tilt of his hips. He grunted lowly into her neck as he slid into her the first time.

He moved slowly as he buried himself inside her pussy. The hot sensation enveloped his dick as he made her feel every inch of it, he was wanting to savor the moment since it had been years since he last had a warm cunt and it had never felt like this coming from the woman beneath him, but it all became too much to the point where he shoved in the last few inches instead.

He groaned when her cunt pulsed and clenched down on his shaft in response as she whined into the mattress. She may have not wanted it, but her body wanted more.

He was able to prop his arms beside her head as his thick cock was nestled deeply into her warm cunt before extricating his cock from her tight cunt and slammed back inside, forcing a sharp moan from her throat.

Thomas began thrusting into her with abandon, feral and animalistic. Her hands scrambled to hold onto something which ended up grasping onto his forearms instead. A part of him felt an undeniable need to claim her, to fuck her so hard and rough he would imprint upon her being. He needed to make sure she would never leave him.

He did not know what he was anymore. In this moment, he was nothing but a pure primitive being, redacting every piece of history from this moment to the dawn of time. 

Trying to claim his woman.

“God, look at you,” his voice came from above her, low and rough.

His knees were spread, resting on the outsides of both her legs, his feet hooked over her calves to accommodate the position which had spread her legs apart, forcing her to take him as the position gave him the leverage to pound down into her hard, slamming his hips into her ass with rough thrusts that borderline brutal. He would bet she could feel his heavy balls smacking down against her slicked cunt, and hear the loud, crude slapping sound it made. It only made him harder even more somehow as pleasure rolled down his spine due to the lewdness of the position. 

He loved how spread open she looked, how it felt to shove his cock into her warm cunt as he fucked her like an animal.

“Mine.” He rumbled, smirking when she didn’t say anything.

She seemed so small beneath him like this. He looked down at where his dick was swallowed by her pussy, he ended up grabbing her ass, his large hands gripped her flesh, and spread her open, groaning as he saw the way her folds were spread open by his cock and her cunt was wrapped tightly around him. 

One of his hands trailed up her spine, smirking when a shiver rolled down her back and settling in gripping the back of her neck as he move himself to hover over her writhing body.

With one hand finding the front of her throat, he pulled her closer against his chest as much as he could, pace not faltering once. He could feel her walls fluttered around his cock due to the possessive grasp he had on her throat. She was trembling, he nearly smiled with a feral expression as he had a hard time focusing on anything but her, the way he fucked her, pushing her closer to the edge. 

“Such a tight cunt, so perfect for me.” He rasped, his lips grazing her cheek.

Somewhere in the haze of pleasure that rolled through him, Thomas groaned as the grip on the base of her neck tightened; threatening to leave bruises as he thought about spilling his cum into her pussy. He shoved his cock so deeply inside of her that she collapsed with a startled cry where no one could tell the beginning and the end.

His weight was pinning her to the blankets as her cunt was flooded with his cum. She began to squirm beneath him once she realized there were flames licking the bedroom and smoke began to rise, but he kept her pinned where she was, sliding his cock back and forth in her warmth.

“Tommy,” she protested, attempting to crawl away from him, only he held her down firmly.

He swallowed thickly as he laid his head against the curve of her back, “there’s not a damn thing I wouldn’t do when it comes to you, do you understand me?” Despite being a ghost, the warmth of her skin mingled with his as he felt the heat of the flames licking the curtains and the wallpapers as the fire began to spread around them, eventually consuming them.

Then she screamed as fire licked her skin, burning the flesh and he held her down in his arms, bounding her to him forever in death.

[filurig]

some domesticated Beasts in pareidolia... moar info below

fatfin perch:

the fatfin perch is derived from perca fluviatilis perch, and has been bred to be both larger, fatter and more docile in order to make herding, breeding and keeping them easier for sjörå. sjörå usually section off a section of a lake they inhabit and keep their perch there in order to keep them safe from other predators. and also with the help of their guard pikes...

guard pike:

derived from the northern pike, the guard pike is unmistakeable. selectively bred to be intelligent and loyal, these pikes are kept by sjörå as guarding/herding animals. every sjörå collective usually keeps a fair amount of these pikes in order to ensure the safety of their perch population.

tomteget:

a goat breed which has been bred by tomtar, its a very large animal for a goat and is used by gnomes as mounts and livestock. very robust and several other breeds derived from this one exist which have been adapted for different purposes (such as milk, meat, etc.). its possible that the idea of a "christmas goat" may stem from the tomtar's tendency to travel with these goats.

gloson:

a domesticated version of a relative of the wild boar, the gloson is both huge and striking in its appearence, fitting for the trolls. their wild equivalent is essentially exctinct and its current population are entirely kept by trolls at this point. used mostly as a guarding animal, but sometimes as livestock - it depends on the region (northern trolls tend to use them as the former, southern as the latter). humans have wrongfully interpreted their mane as "sharp" and able to be used to slice the gloson's target, but this is a misconception - while the gloson has quills, they aren't what is used for this manner of attack. instead, the trolls tend to provide them with sharp back armour if they choose to utilize their gloson for battle.

[crimsonred-hi]

Masterlist

Hozier x Reader

Style, or lack there of

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.

Summary: Where did Hozier suddenly get all his style from? He comes out of his 4 year hiding for ‘Unreal Unearth’, all the flannel have been replaced with shirts and all his jeans have been replaced with nice trousers. Why? Because he got a girlfriend, who doesn’t let him walk out the house looking like a butch lesbian

Cats or Dogs

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.

Summary: reader is a cat person, her boyfriend, Andrew, is very much a dog person. And at this point in their lives, they want another living thing to take care of in their shared home. The age old question of cats or dogs stumps them, because they can’t agree

Freckles

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.

Summary: the summers in Ireland are slowly getting hotter, and that makes the garden seem more inviting.

Are you cold?

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.

Summary: Your from a warmer climate, and despite friends and family telling you that you wouldn’t cope the cold, you decided to spend Christmas and the time after it with your lover in Ireland… and it’s fuckin cold

Da, it’s Da

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.

Summary: in Ireland and the northern parts of England (where I’m from), a child would never call their father ‘daddy’, for the mere thought of ‘Daddy is for gals with issues and gay men with bigger issues’ (which is true). So, I believe Andrew would want to be called ‘Da’ like most other fathers… so yeah, Andrew arguing with his and Reader’s child about what the child should call him.

Everything, Everywhere

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.

Summary: his lover is laying there, laying under 6 feet under the grass. Gone to the world. The love of his life: gone. Yet, he stills comes every week, to smile at her, and tell her that one day he’ll join her, but he promised her to live to the fullest… so he will.

What do you mean grey?!

Pairing: dad!Andrew Hozier-Byrne x wife!Reader.

Summary: Andrew with his beautiful hair and beard, he’s very proud of them both: of the length, the colour, the health of it. And one day, one very long day, where he’s spent his whole day being stern dad to his daughter, and at the end he gets in bed with his wife and the mother of his child just for her to notice something in his hair.

Mine : Ours

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.

Summary: Andrew meets his son for the first time, and he’s a bit angry about it. Because after 10 years, reader kept his son from him.

Work Song

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader

Summary: Andrew and his lover have a little cuddling after their time together.

Grip

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader

Summary: At a dinner party, he’s jealous over your coworker.

Wash Day

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader

Summary: Wash day is Sunday, so Andrew and his girlfriend get in the shower together (not sexually).

Vinyl

Pairings: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader

Summary: He’s got new vinyls coming out, but his girl needs to approve first. Because her opinion is most important.

Headcannons

Hozier

Age Gap

Controversial Age Gap

Pregnancy

[hellishjoel]

when you know, you know (mini chapter)

3.2k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist | Notifications Blog | Ko-Fi

summary: A flashback shows Tommy’s crew enjoying Christmas Eve at the diner. Frankie makes his first move with a New Year’s kiss. 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), half-ass editing because I’m exhausted (I’ll reread it tomorrow and fix any errors I catch, food and alcohol consumption, reader is has no physical description, swearing, smoking, pet names (princess, asshole ((yes it’s a pet name to me))), christmas/holiday themes, a first kiss is shared that starts this whole journey.

A/N: look at these stinkin cute dividers I made for Table for Two! like shut up! I hope this mini chapter holds you guys over for a little as I also give my focus to cherry thrill and delicate with the beautiful and talented @thetriumphantpanda! also thank you to @undercoverpena for helping me dial down my brain and helping me focus on writing what I really want to write first 💛

Tommy’s Diner. One year ago. The recollection of events is slightly impaired due to alcohol consumption.

The last time it snowed on Christmas Eve in Texas was 2012. It wasn’t a normal, pretty, White Christmas. It was snow. And sleet. And pea-sized balls of hail. The winter storm began in Breckenridge, near Denver. It grew and spiraled, traveling southeast to Northern Texas. 

By the time the storm saw Austin, it barely affected the city in terms of transportation. Just beautiful little white flakes, all of them unique, not one like the other. And it was dazzling. 

Now, ten years later, in a mythically euphoric way, they land on the pavement in front of your sneakers. A snowflake lands on the toe of your shoe, melting quickly into the material. You let out an appreciative hum and bundle yourself tighter in your jacket, letting the size swallow you. 

The diner bustles inside. It’s busy, very busy. You thought people would like to be at home on Christmas Eve, celebrating with their families before the holiday rounded out in the following twenty-four hours. But some people have traditions here. 

Older couples who met here on a first date still make their anniversary appearances. There’s this older couple you see like clockwork every year, Maude and Gil. 

Gil said he met Maude by accident. Took off from the lumber mill in a hurry to grab a late lunch. Maude was there on a date with another man. 

But Gil said it was love at first sight, watching her push her straw around the milkshake glass and trying to seem moderately entertained by her date. Gil thought they were a total match the instant he laid eyes on her. 

But Maude didn’t think the same. Not at the time, anyway. 

Gil said it was fine because he knew. He just knew. Even if Maude thought their timing wasn’t right at the moment, he’d try again when it was right. 

Maude said she found it endearing; how he’d chase, beg, concede, anything he had to do to get her to at least go out with him. He was persistent. And it paid off. 

Now, all these years later, with kids and grandkids, they were celebrating a date night before they travel to their daughter’s house for Christmas tomorrow. 

After penning in their order, you can’t help but smile at the couple. 

“You two are really cute.” A sweet grin is shared between the two patrons before they turn back to you. 

“When you know,” Gil pauses to take Maude’s hands across the table, wrinkles forming around old gold wedding bands, “you know.” 

You usually don’t get along well with older people. Sometimes you didn’t know how to talk to them. You didn’t understand the references they made and felt awkward trying to navigate back to the menu selections. That, or sometimes they were just plain rude, but you suppose anyone at any age can be fucking rude. 

In this part of Texas, some folks felt all too comfortable pushing religion or politics into your lap. And when they weren’t doing that, they were complaining about things that were out of your control. 

That light is giving me a headache. 

You don’t have any trees to park my car under. 

The mashed potatoes aren’t mashed enough. Like, sorry guys, but that sounds like a problem between you, the line cooks, and your denture implementation specialist. 

Then there were the more generous guests, those who tip well and sit in your section because they like your playful personality. Where talking doesn’t feel like a chore, and you’re so goddamn funny that they laugh at everything you say. 

There’s this ongoing joke between you and these older gentlemen who come every Sunday morning for breakfast. It goes something like,

“Hey, doll, did you put the whiskey in the coffee like I asked ya to?”

You’d playfully gasp, widen your eyes, and look at them with your mouth agape before you lightly smacked their shoulders with your ticket pad. “I certainly did not, my manager would have a fit.” You’d tease, wink, and pour a little extra coffee to top them off as they snickered. They were just guys young at heart who enjoyed making you laugh. 

Frankie would play cards with them on his break. Spin the chair around and have the back against the table, thick thighs straddling the seat as he nibbled on a toothpick. He always lost to them at poker but won at blackjack. 

Unfortunately, someone really did put some sort of schnapps in the coffee. The staff’s coffee. You weren’t going to name names, but you definitely saw who did it. And you weren’t telling. Especially since you were enjoying your third cup. 

Christmas music plays loudly in the back of the kitchen, the restaurant having been closed for the past hour. But for the love of God, Rudy couldn’t get you all to clean up the place and go home. 

“Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock! Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring! Snowin' and blowin' up bushels of fun, now the jingle hop has begun!” The entire kitchen sings, all terribly off-tune, but it makes it all the funnier. 

You double over in laughter as Carla, your five-foot-tall manager attempts to put a Santa hat on Frankie’s head. He simply crosses his arms and shakes his head, unwilling to bend down and let her put the stupid thing on already. 

Finally, with a roll of his eyes, he kneels down and takes the red Santa hat like a crown to a king. 

“You’re only fueling his ego!” You boo, Carla walking over and cheering her cup of coffee with yours. 

The kitchen is noisy after hours. 

All the crew has funneled to the back, sitting on countertops as Lou mops the floor and tells people to stay out of his way. Water sprays from multiple sink faucets as the dishwashers clean at a leisurely pace, too busy singing a rendition of whatever Christmas song played next off the radio. 

The old dishwasher hums along as it cleans. People talk or sing over each other, and it’s just loud. You’d be overstimulated if it wasn’t for the spiked coffee in your hand. 

“You put this booze in here, didn’t you?” You whisper to Carla as she circles back to your little corner of the counter, looking straight ahead as if she didn’t hear you. She’s as silent as a rock, which you can respect. 

“Alright, some manager you are.” 

She snickers at that, playfully slaps your thigh with the back of her hand, and watches the line cooks and busboys lazily scrub pots, pans, and plates, too busy howling out what they think are the correct lyrics to the classic Mariah Carey song playing. 

“Frankie!” Carla growls, her actual manager tone coming out now. Even Rudy shudders at the lion’s roar. 

Frankie looks up, wide-eyed like a kid about to get freshly yelled at. He’s got a cigarette hanging from his lips and a lighter one centimeter away, finger on the trigger ready to light it. 

“Go outside and smoke that, you know I can’t come home smelling like cigarette smoke! My kids will get mad at me. Shoo! Shoo!” She ushers with her hands, Frankie smirking against the cig and holding his hands up in playful defense. 

“Sorry Mama Bear, I’ll take it outside.” 

Carla playfully scoffs as he ducks down to kiss her cheek, giving him a roll of her eyes in return. 

Frankie’s eyes meet yours and he nudges his thumb into the pack of cigarettes, one inching out towards you. 

“Come on, princess. Let’s go.” 

You purse your lips to try and stop the smile, but you can’t help it. You push yourself off the counter and join him outside, the kitchen door closing behind you with a whoosh. 

It’s colder outside now, and the snowflakes fall faster but still melt as soon as they hit the pavement. 

You walk with Frankie to the loading dock. Tommy’s doesn’t have an actual loading dock, but it has an attached storage garage that houses old equipment. The concrete has questionable stains of varying colors and sizes. A game you and Frankie play is coming up with dramatic stories for each one. 

The large maroon puddle was definitely a murder covered up by a secret crime syndicate. The dark green dribbles every few inches are from a lizard-like monster, trailing its way through the garage where its buried itself under the concrete until it’s resurrection day in one thousand years. Or so they say. 

Frankie pulls a blue tarp off an old brown leather couch, both of you falling into it with a heavy sigh. 

Tonight was exhausting. The holidays in general were. 

“You goin’ anywhere for Christmas?” Frankie asks as you hold out your hand for the cigarette, but he lifts it to your lips instead. 

A playful smirk dances on your lips as you lean in and take the cigarette obediently, both of Frankie’s hands coming up as one flicks the lighter and the other shields the snowy breeze. 

The nicotine swirls down your throat and chills your chest, a nice contrast between the warmth the alcohol has spread through your tummy. Your eyes magnetize to the pretty orange blaze glittering at the end of the cigarette. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, smoke billowing through the air and then into nothingness. “I took off from Christmas to New Year’s, so I’ll be at home with family. You?” 

Frankie makes a noncommittal noise, distracted by lighting his cigarette. He flicks the spark wheel multiple times, but the flame only grows smaller and smaller. To Frankie’s relief, it catches. He takes the dead lighter, damn near out of juice, and makes a long chuck to the dumpsters where it clatters deep inside. Dink-bong. 

“I’ll be here- wait, until New Year’s?” Frankie asks in disappointment, head tilting affectionately like a dog’s. 

You’re a bit shocked by the dramatic reaction, eyes scanning over him.  

“Uh.. yeah. Why?” 

He’s silent for a bit, eyes avoiding yours before he looks out beyond the freeway and into the void. You shrug it off and lift the cigarette to your lips again. If Frankie wants to say something, he will. 

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” You nod your head towards the snow and Frankie agrees as he looks up at the sky with a fond little smile. 

“So, no New Year’s at Tommy’s for you this year, huh?” He circles back, and you’re all too curious. 

“Why do you care so much if I’m here on New Year’s or not?” Your demeanor is playful, but he’s dancing around the subject and you’d wish he’d just come out and say it. 

But he wanes on your temper and plays oblivious. “Was that Maude and Gil out there earlier?” 

You roll your eyes and shuffle closer to him on the couch. Frankie does the same. “Yeah. I wish they came here more than just on Christmas Eve. They’re so refreshing. They’re older, but cool.”

Frankie nods and lets the calm settle between you both. 

“Before Tommy retired and moved to Florida... Or ran and hid from his bookie due to his crippling gambling addiction, he said that he was long-time friends with Maude and Gil. They’ve been coming here for like… fifty years.” 

You scoff in disbelief and glance over to him. “Who would want to come to this dump for fifty years?” 

Frankie shrugs and smiles, leaning into your side as you lay your head on his shoulder. He’s warm. 

“I guess it’s all about perspective. We see Tommy’s as clock in, clock out. Run around until our feet hurt and work until we’re sweating pigs. The customers, people like Maude and Gil, they see this place as where their lives began.” Frankie’s eyes look beautifully starstruck in this moment. “Where they started, and where they reminisce. Where it all began. It’s perspective, princess.”

And just like that, he crashes the moment. Again. 

With a roll of your eyes, you sit up properly, shoulders shuddering inward from the cold. You shove off his hand that has somehow gone below the radar on your thigh, crossing your leg over the other and tugging down the skirt of your uniform.

“You gotta stop fucking calling me that incessant nickname, asshole” 

Frankie scoffs around the exhale of his cigarette. “Why don’t you make me?” 

“Oh, I could definitely make you, but where’s the fun in that, Francisco?” You smirk in his direction, but something shifts. 

His lips part but he’s at a loss for words, and his eyes dance over your face like he’s trying to memorize each pretty eyelash and the slope of your cheekbones. 

A weird feeling of charged energy zigzags back and forth between your bodies, stitching you closer together. Where the flirting goes a little too far and something could happen. It could keep going, like a snowball effect, both of you unwilling to stand down to the other. How far could things go? How far would you let them go?  

His eyes look incredibly deep brown in the night, but they pour into you all the same. The red bandana tied around his forehead keeps his unruly dark curls out of his eyes as the wind makes the strands flutter. He’s overwhelmingly handsome. You can feel your breath change, but you don’t want him to notice how your chest falls shallow under his eyeline. 

His husky voice breaks the pretty silence. 

“If you’re not here for New Year’s, then how are you supposed to be my New Year’s kiss?” 

An unbeatable smile breaks out across your face, feeling your stomach summersault. Oh, Frankie. 

You playfully shrug as you look beyond the loading dock at the snow that amounts to nothing, still melting upon greeting the asphalt. 

“Well. Sounds to me like you’re kissing the back of your hand on New Year’s. Just the same as last year. And the year before that. And the year before that.” 

“I’d rather kiss your ass, princess.” 

“Oh, I bet you would.” You both snicker and shake your heads. He’s still staring all too longingly. 

“Come on.” He speaks softer now. His head tilts so it’s closer to your level. “Lemme kiss you.” His head is hanging to the side, and he speaks with need. His tongue lines his lips and your breath staggers again. 

Your and Frankie’s cigarettes burn with abandonment, dangling between fingers settled in your respective laps. 

Why can’t a fire break out in the kitchen right now? It would be convenient. Anything to get Frankie from getting too close. Not that you wouldn’t mind kissing him, you just fear that you’d like it a little too much. And he would like it too. What if things changed?

All you can think to do is try to lighten the mood with a little teasing because it feels all too serious right now. 

“You don’t wanna kiss me.” 

Frankie scoffs and suckles on his cigarette again like it’s the most unbelievable thing he’s ever heard. “I would, I really would.” 

Fuck, it’s not working. “What if it’s weird? We work together.”

“It won’t be.” 

“How do you know?” You tease. 

“I just know.”

“Okay, but how do you know.” Frankie shrugs nonchalantly like it’s no big deal. “When you know, you know.” 

Surprise lines around your wide eyes, recognizing the all too familiar sentiment shared by Maude and Gil. The sentence you didn’t realize had so much importance to you until Frankie uttered the same words. 

“I- what did you say?” You ask, surely he didn’t just share the same expression. Or spare the same meaning. 

A cocky smirk tilts the right side of his mouth upwards. “When you know, you know.” He repeats unphased, eyes twinkling all too sweetly as he looks at you like you’re a wonder. 

It’s just one kiss. Nothing else will happen. You wouldn’t let it. 

Before you can overthink any further, before you can decline, his large palm casts itself over your cheek, thumb skimming across the silky flesh. Warmth floods your body, and it feels like time has frozen. The snow falls silently around you both, a soft whisper of the wind hissing through the air. 

“This alright?” He whispers. You feel so caught off guard, unable to respond with words, just a lousy excuse of a nod. 

The heel of his palm guides your jawline upward, lips mutually parting as you take each other in. Anticipation fills the air, fuels the rapid beat slamming around in your chest and nudging itself up in your throat. 

Your lips meet, warm and plush. You’re sure he’s not this gentle all the time, but he is in this moment. It’s tender and delicate, slowly taking you all in as if this is the last time he’ll ever get this chance. It probably will be. The bite of each other’s cigarettes tangle in your mouths. 

It’s unclear who deepens the kiss first, but there’s more of a desperation to this part. Both of his palms are on your cheeks now, bodies inching closer as your smaller palms fist lightly at the neck of his dingy white tee. You’re keeping him close, fuck, it’s so undeniable. 

The intensity that follows highlights a level of emotion you had far long ago locked away. Shoved into a locked crate and stored in secret under your bed. You didn’t like those feelings, they were cute looking from afar, but up close, they were monstrous. But you can’t deny you enjoy the movement of his lips against yours, both of you melting into a sweet rhythm that’s lined with desire. 

His tongue explores your mouth. Your fingers dance up the dip of his neck and sink into the warm flesh. He must like the feeling of your skin on his because he lets out a low hum of appreciation. The charged energy you felt before was now flooded, running on all cylinders to keep up with the feelings you and Frankie were exploring for the first time. 

It’s heated and flickers like his dead lighter. The bond grows deeper at this newfound connection, much different than a simple peck on the lips for a New Year’s kiss. 

It feels like it lasts forever but it’s gone so soon. You find yourself pulling away first, despite it taking all of you to do so. Frankie’s head naturally follows your own, wanting more, drunk off the taste. His lips brush yours again as you laugh. 

Both of you grin before you can stop yourselves. 

“Shit,” he mutters, pulling away finally as warmth kisses the apples of his cheeks. His thumb lines his lower lip like he wants to remember the electricity and the pattern of your kiss. “Sorry.” 

“No, it’s- fine.” You’re all flustered, both of you shifting farther away on the couch. 

“I got carried away,” 

“Yeah. You did.” Lie. 

“I liked it.”

“I know you did, Francisco.” The tight-lipped grin on your lips won’t disappear. But you could. 

Everything that follows is muddled sentences and interjections on both your parts. You start. 

“I’m gonna head back inside. Carla probably needs some help-”

“Yeah-”

“Are you-”

“Yeah, I’ll stay out here for a few more.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay.” 

You’re both nodding and you’re scrabbling for balance as your feet pace on shaky ground. You nudge your jacket tighter around your body as you drop the cigarette and smother it with the toe of your shoe. 

A shaky breath leaves you as you walk away and smooth out your uniform, thankful to have your back to him as you walk off and return to the kitchen’s back door. Or else he might see you smiling sheepishly. 

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist | Notifications Blog | Ko-Fi

[icaruspendragon]

Hi! A while ago I saw one of your tiktoks about how northern democrats typically view people from Appalachia, and it really made me re-examine some biases I had and I deeply appreciated that. I'm from New Hampshire, and basically this primary season we were completely ignored by democratic candidates because of some issues with the DNC and our primary being labeled "unsanctioned". It was weird to not feel supported or valued by my party for the first time ever, (especially when NH tends to get a lot of attention) and it reminded me of your tiktok and how you mentioned that republicans tend to reach out to people in the south while democrats tend to ignore them as a lost cause. Because I saw that happening here with an insanly disproportionate republican presence in my state leading to the primaries. I know the comparisons aren't equal, but it helped drive home the message for me and gave me just a taste of what you explained so clearly in your tiktok. I understand if you choose not to post this, but I really wanted to thank you for opening my eyes and helping me face some biases I didn't know I had.

hello and thank you (for re-examining your biases and for writing me this message). i'm gonna use this as a chance to restate some of the things i mentioned in the video you're talking about.

i'd like to start this by saying i know appalachia and the south aren't perfect. there's racism and homophobia and bigotry. being someone who is marginalized or minoritized in appalachia/the south isn't always easy. but appalachia/the south doesn't have the monopoly on bigotry. america is rife with it. it's something marginalized folks all over the country have to face. and when northern dems act like racism and homophobia and bigotry are things that don't occur in their state simply because it's a blue state, they're doing an incredible disservice to the marginalized people that live in their communities who are facing the results of bigotry.

the folks living in appalachia/the south are heavily stereotyped as nothing more than ignorant backwood cousin fucking hillbillies, and while there are people that live here that fit that bill, appalachia/the south is not a monolith.

appalachia is region that spans from mississippi all the way to new york. the south (depending on who you ask) consists of 17 different states. and here's a little fun fact about the south for ya: according to the 2020 census, out of the 41.6 million black people that live in america, 38.9% of them live in the south.

so when that entire region is written off, forgotten about, and treated as a lost cause it's not the bigots that are being left behind; it's the marginalized people that live here that are being written off. the very same folks democrats and liberals love claiming they care about are the ones being left behind.

one of the reasons republicans have such a strong hold on appalachia/the south is because they put in the work to earn the trust of the voter. work that democrats just don't do. so of course republicans are gonna get the vote, they earned it.

other reasons for the stronghold existing (that people never wanna talk about for some reason) are: gerrymandering, voter suppression, lack of state funding that leads to lack of education, general lack of education, high poverty rates, lack of internet access. i could go on and on.

there are so many marginalized people that live in this region that are working themselves to the bone and trying their damndest to make appalachia/the south a better place for EVERYONE to live and when high falutin yankees act like every single person that lives here is the racist uncle you have to ignore at christmas, they are discrediting the work being done to try and change the region for the better.

allow me to say this again: when appalachia/the south is written off as nothing more than a home to bigots, it's not the bigots being written off, it's the people affected by bigotry.

there are people fighting to make these areas better. we are trying. so please, please stop writing us off.

we are not a lost cause.

[yoitsjay]

(This is a screenshot of the original ask because for some reason my drafts glitched out and instead of editing the tumblr it posted it when it wasn't ready and I had to delete it, so whoever requested this I am sorry! And I hope you read this and like my story!

Cuddle Buddies

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x M!reader

Summary: you and Simon have always had your differences, but the one thing you did have in common was the fact that you couldn't go to sleep without being in each other's arms every night. So, you and him made a habit of cuddling every night.

Warnings: fluff, touch starved? Confessions

Word count: 1621

December had settled in after a long and dreadful November, luckily enough for the soldiers, December was their month off from work. Some soldiers left, Soap went away for a bit to spend Christmas with his family, he had invited you and Ghost but you didn't Really know soap that well so you declined. You had been a recruit for the 141 for about a year before you finally “graduated” in the eyes of the team and became their combat medic. Your family lived all the way up in Northern Canada and you were all the way in London so there was no cheap way to see them, so instead you stayed on base and face timed with your family.

It was the day before Christmas eve and you were on the phone with your mother, it was late, maybe about 11 pm for you whilst it was much earlier for your family as there was a 7 hour time difference. It was just you, Ghost and a few recruits on base so it was very quiet, quiet enough that you could hear a pin drop from another room entirely. So when you heard footsteps approaching your barracks you said some goodbyes To your family and promised to call them for Christmas.

You set your phone down on your night table after the call ended, running a hand through yours freshly washed hair, it had definitely been a while since you really had a good scrub down so the shower you had taken the night before really made you feel good…

A sudden knock on your door broke you from your thoughts and you stood up from your bed, making your way to the door before opening it. And much to your unsurprise it was a recruit. “Sir- Ghost asked me to fetch you, he's in his quarters.” the recruit relayed before walking away. A sigh escaped your lips and you returned back to your bed, grabbing your phone before heading towards Ghosts bedroom.

See, for months you and Ghost teased each other back and forth, at first he was just straight up bullying and you wouldn't react, but as soon as you hit the three month mark of being a rookie, which was typically where rookies bailed, you started reciprocating the same energy back to Ghost and he took that as a personal challenge, so whenever you were around each other you would bicker and insult each other.

However one night during a game of very drunk poker, you had passed out against Ghost and he had taken you to your room to sleep, however you wouldn't let him go, and that started your almost daily routine. When everyone else was asleep Ghost would send a recruit for you or send you a text, and the moment you entered his room you were in his bed. It was nothing sexual, intimate but not sexual. But every night you and Ghost would hold each other, and on bad nights you would cradle him to your chest and tell him stories to make him forget about whatever dream or nightmare had plagued him that night.

Tonight was no different. You were cuddle buddies now, supposedly.

Or maybe it was different.

When you reached his bedroom you had heard some shuffling from behind the door, followed by a grunt and a curse from the British man's lips. You raised an eyebrow, knocking on the door to alert him of your presence. “Ghost? You're gonna let me in or what?” You asked in a joking tone. “Hold on! Wait a minute.” He replied back to you and some more shuffling could be heard before finally Ghost opened the bedroom door a few minutes later. However before you could see what he was doing Ghost tied a blindfold around your eyes. You jolted at the sudden blindness and the larger man let out a soft apology, taking one of your hands in his while his other hand went to your hip as he guided you into his room, making you stand in a certain spot before he closed the bedroom door and came back to you, gently untying the cloth around your eyes.

When you saw what he had done to his bedroom your jaw was on the floor. He had candles lit and strewn about the room, his bed was neatly made (which it never is) but on top of that there was a large tray of your favorite food. But that wasn't even the most shocking thing. Ghost was standing in front of you in just a T-shirt and sweats, he had his Balaclava on of course but no black makeup surrounded his eyes. You could also see the tattoo on his arm alot better and honestly you loved it. You had a few tattoos of your own but not a sleeve.

“Ghost wha-”

“Simon.” He blurted out, his eyes reflecting nervousness almost as he looked at you. His interruption baffled you as you blinked at him once before opening your mouth again to speak. However once again he beat you too it.

“call me Simon. Please.” He muttered to you, clearing his throat before grabbing your hand and leading you to his bed. He sat you down, pushing the tray towards you. He was quiet, more quiet than usual. He always had something smart to say but- not now. “Simon.” You whispered, and watched as he visibly got shivers by you just saying his name. You grabbed the tray of your favorite food, scooping up some of it on a spoon as you took a bite. This wasn't store bought, but homemade.

Your eyes went wide at the realization and you stared at Ghost- Simon. “Did you- did you make this?” You asked him, and all he did was nod. You could see him fidgeting, but he quickly tore your attention away from that as he spoke up again. “If you don't like it you don't have to eat it-”

You quickly interrupted him before he could say anything more, shaking your head. “No Simon it's delicious. I cant- I can't believe you remembered me ramble about this dish- how did you even find the recipe?” You asked, taking another bite from the dish, well- more than one, you were absolutely devouring this dish. “I uh- I found your moms Facebook and I contacted her for the recipe. She's a very kind woman- gave it to me immediately…” He trailed off, watching as you devoured the meal.

You finished it quickly, placing the food tray on Simon's bedside table before turning to him again. However instead of saying anything you pulled him into a crushing hug. Which he actually reciprocated. “Thank you Simon.” You whispered.

You don't know why he had done all of this for you, but as you and him lay down together and you rest your head on his chest, you can hear just how much his heart is racing, even hearing it skip a beat when you adjust your hand or touch his chest. Was he sick? You had no clue.

Silence filled the room, it wasn't comforting, no the way Simon was acting, or more so how he wasn't acting was off-putting. So you abruptly sat up, shifting your body so you now sat atop his lower abdomen. You stared down at him into his widened eyes, and you huffed. “Spill it Riley, what's got you so weird today? Are you sick or something?” You asked him, leaning forward as you placed your hands on his face to try and feel if he had a fever or something. Simon then grabbed your wrists, keeping you in place as he stared up at you, but in one swift motion you were on your back and he was on top of you, his face extremely close to yours, Close enough to feel his breath filter through the mask and fan across your face. It smelt like mint, and chocolate. “Simo-”

you couldn't even blurt out his full name as he pulled the mask up over his nose and he kissed you, moving his hands from your wrist to your hips instead. You were in shock, eyes wide and lips somewhat Agape. He pulled away after a few minutes, his expression now worried that he pushed you too far. “Y/n?” He called out your name, squeezing your hip gently.

You blinked once… twice… you looked up at him as you licked your bottom lip, taking the remnants of whatever lip chap he had on. You sucked in a deep breath, moving your hand up to his bare cheek. He flinched slightly, but didn't pull away as you gently felt the lower half of his face, your hand traveling to the nape of his neck where you rested your hand there for but a moment before pulling him against your lips again, reciprocating the kiss that he had given you less than a minute ago.

Simon melted into your touch as he held you and kissed you, hundreds of bottled up feelings smashing into you like the dam that held it all in broke. After a few moments he pulled back, staring into your eyes. No words needed to be said, and this time he got comfortable beside you with his face pressed to the crook of your neck, his mask was still up over his nose, which was good enough for you.

His arms around your waist, his face against your neck and the feeling of his hot breath against your skin, combined with the food you had ate had started to make you sleepy. And within moments you had drifted off with Simon following suit.

Cuddle Buddies indeed.

[engeorged]

Santa’s Otto

This is a sequel to Obi's Place and a prequel to Aster's Maze. Also now The Sugarman’s House

It’s been a while since I last posted, and a fair bit has happened with me and Aster, but that’s something that’s still developing. Being in a relationship with a magical being is not something that’s been mapped, outside of Greek fables, so we are still finding our way with it. Suffice to say we are both very happy and very together.  Both of us have grown quite a bit. Physically, mentally and spiritually shall we say. (And by that I mean quite a lot more physically than the other two). But I think that that's a story for another time. I want it to be mine for a little longer. 

Anyway, as Christmas is coming up, I thought I would tell you about an encounter I had, just a few months before meeting Aster. As it turned out, it wasn't actually me meeting a fae, but it definitely gave me some confirmation, and I think some of you will really enjoy this story! It’s about the time I met Santa in Germany. Yes, I know how that sounds, but you’re going to have to bear with me. 

I’d headed to Europe a few months earlier and was working my way through some possible sightings. I hadn’t seen or met another being like Obi yet, but I’d definitely picked up some promising clues. A few things which I thought were legit,  had led me to northern Germany where I immediately hit a dead end. German Christmas’ are some of the best in the world so I decided to stay a few weeks and have a break from the search. I’d been enjoying the sights of some famous local castle, and was feeling a bit hungry so I popped into a medium sized shopping mall I’d seen earlier and headed in. It was pretty quiet, which was strange considering it was the Saturday before Christmas but  as I was walking through looking for something to eat, my eye was drawn to an incredibly hot man doing some maintenance work. He was dressed in an overall but it was open all the way down to his waist, revealing an incredibly toned physique. His very worked on, defined abs were covered in a delightful amount of belly fur all the way up to his thick neck and he was very much my type. I paused for a moment to drink him in and watched as he heaved some large boxes as if they were nothing. He was maybe an inch taller than me with broad shoulders and a thick head of dark messy hair with a fade at the sides. His beautifully pale European skin along with his darker hair and smattering of freckles was very striking.  His face was covered in just the right amount of stubble to make him look rugged but not scruffy. But the crowning glory was his eyes! They were a vibrant pale blue that practically shone out from his face. As he turned and bent down to pick up the next box, I was surprised that his rounded meaty ass didn’t burst out of those overalls. They were unfortunately doing a good job at holding back all that muscle. I shook off my horny reverie and made a note to come back round after lunch to see if he was still there. Following my nose, I headed in the direction of food and found a little pop-up Christmas food court. I indulged in a few thick sausages and some delightful potato and apple cakes which were not bad at all. I took another couple of sausages to go and headed back the way I’d come, hoping to catch the hot maintenance guy again. 

I hung around near where I first saw him for a good twenty minutes before I heard a commotion a bit further down. I walked over to where the sound was coming from and saw the festive grotto. Santa had arrived for the Christmas display. Kids were clamouring round excitedly and as I watched I saw Santa make his way through the crowds. I was yet again surprised to see that this was not your average sad old failed actor, living out his last working years as the big red fat man for a few euros an hour. This guy was young and vibrant. His broad shoulders were straining the limits of the outfit, with the white fur trim (probably real, this is Europe after all!) curving round and showing off the enormous belly. At first I assumed it was padded but it definitely caught my eye. The guy was so clearly stacked that the belly looked almost comical. It was almost perfectly round and stuck out a good foot and a half from this guy's toned body. As I watched him moving around I started noticing that the belly wasn’t squishy like a pillow would have been. It had a certain heft to it that I was very familiar with. I moved forward to get a better look and saw a kid, who wasn’t paying attention, get under his feet, tripping him up. He fell backwards onto a small elf house and levelled it. As he fell, his red coat came undone and I got a good glimpse of the huge round furry belly that was contained underneath. It was a thing of beauty, rounded and perfectly formed. Covered in dark thick hair with a small and neat belly button. He quickly pulled himself up and closed the coat, laughing it off. As he adjusted his fake white beard I caught a glimpse of his piercing pale blue eyes. I’d seen them before.  Was the maintenance guy? What the fuck? I’d seen him an hour before and he was practically an underwear model. Either he’d got a Hollywood level makeup and prosthetic artist hidden round the back or there was something fishy going on. 

My mind was racing. If that belly was real, it had to have grown in less than an hour? Who was he? Was this guy somehow a Fae? A crazy thought passed through my mind, was this actually Santa? I know I’d chased round the world for less weird ideas but the idea that Santa might have been real, was still a bit out there, even for me. Also, more importantly, did I have a crush on Santa? 

I waited around till his shift ended. I couldn’t keep my eyes off this guy's belly. It was incredible. There was no flab or excess blubber, it looked like a solid mass of muscle over a huge sphere of gut. Well, like I was after Obi! I couldn’t lose this guy. This was the closest I’d come to answers in months. It was fascinating to watch him in action, the kids were captivated by him, and so were the parents. I couldn’t help but notice that he paid a fair bit of attention to some of the more hot dads, often touching them on the arm as he laughed at their bad jokes. 

A few hours later, I saw him waving goodbye to the children before disappearing behind the grotto. I followed him and waited till he was alone. I approached him quietly so he didn’t have time to bolt and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped out of his skin and span round, yet again revealing his massive ball belly as his coat flapped open. I introduced myself and told him I’d enjoyed his performance. Fortunately, he spoke very good English and understood me. He cautiously introduced himself as Otto and shook my hand. He took his beard off and I saw his face up close. It was so odd to see such a handsome and chiselled face sporting such a huge gut but there they both were. I didn’t really know where to go from there so I simply came out with it. I saw him an hour earlier and he had no belly. Now here he was with a 150 lbs beer gut. What was the deal?  Was magic involved?

He stared at me for a little while, clearly weighing up what to say. I wasn’t sure if he was gonna bolt so I got myself ready for a chase, but suddenly he burst out with a hearty laugh and pulled me in for a hug. His belly pressing against me hit home how real it was. Our bellies pushed against each other with a satisfying thunk. As he pulled back he put his hands on either side of my belly and gave me a squeeze. As you know I’m not skinny myself, a few months of trying to eat myself into the same state as I was when Obi finished with me had added a few pounds to my bulk. Simply by touching me, Otto knew instantly that something magical had happened to me and asked me who I’d met. I told him about my encounter in the cafe and he nodded and smiled as if he understood. When I’d finished, he told me that my story was familiar and thanked me for telling it and turned to go. I reached out and grabbed his arm and asked him to tell me his story. He smiled and told me that it wasn’t going to be that simple. 

We chatted for a while and worked out the terms of our agreement. As is always the way with these magical types there was always some sort of bargain or deal to be had. He agreed to answer 5 questions but to answer the questions I would have to eat something of his choosing. Now I’m not able to eat the amount I did when Obi was around but I’m still an accomplished eater. I agreed to the terms and we headed to the Christmas food market. He found us a delightful booth made from wood, with garlands of holly and pine branches covering the roof and headed off for my first meal. He returned with three of the sausages I’d already eaten. They were so good I was happy and I set about eating them whilst he sat there with a smile on his face enjoying a large European litre of beer. I thought about my first question and went with it. ‘Are you Santa?’ He scratched at his stubble and smiled a wry grin. ‘No’ he said smugly and lumbered off to get my next meal. I was pissed that my question wasn’t quite right. I needed to ask something more open ended. I was still thinking about what to ask when he returned with a thick crepe, stuffed with cheese and bacon and covered in more cheese. I grabbed a wooden set of cutlery and started eating. 

As I finished, I began feeling a little full. Seven hot dogs, a pancake and some of those amazing apple potato fritters were heavy and not insignificant. I leant back and gave my belly a rub whilst I formulated my question. I needed a question that would make him give me more information than yes or no. I needed to find out if he was human and if not what he was. It came to me. ‘When did you first find you could grow an instant belly?’ His blue eyes twinkled, clearly impressed by my question. Draining the last dregs of his beer he leant back to match my position and began. 

‘I was just out of university and was back living with my parents. I’d decided by then that I wanted to do something practical and started training as an electrician. It was Christmas Eve and I’d been out with my friends and came home pretty drunk and I crashed. Now I was pretty into the gym at the time and I had a killer body. Well, I guess you'd have seen it if you caught me earlier? Anyway, I woke up Christmas morning with this thing pinning me down!’ He grabbed his belly and attempted to shake it but it didn’t really move. 

‘I had no idea what had happened and if I’m honest I sort of assumed it was the beer from the previous night. I thought I’d had an allergic reaction or something. Anyway, I went to the hospital to get checked out and they were baffled. No one could explain what had happened to me. With no answers I headed back to the gym and started training. I had 160 lbs to lose and I wanted it gone quickly. I hadn’t lost my muscle mass and so training was relatively easy. It took me 10 months in total but I managed it and got back into shape. I was maybe 20 lbs more than when I got the gut but it was all muscle mass so I was very much back in shape. I thought it was all behind me and then a few months later I woke up on Christmas morning yet again looking like I was pregnant with triplets. No one could tell me what had happened and so it all started again. Five years that happened for. Five years.’ 

I waited for more but that was all he was giving me. I went to ask another question and he stopped me and headed off. So he wasn’t a magical being. Something had happened to him? And why did it always happen on Christmas Day? What was the link?  He returned with a huge turkey sandwich, dripping with gravy and cranberry sauce, with a side of roast vegetables. Yet again I dove in, all the time formulating my next question. Something was not quite right here. How did he go from ballooning every Christmas Day to being able to do it seemingly at will, in an hour? I was missing something here? I had three questions left and I didn’t want to waste one of them. I finished the sandwich (best one I’ve ever had by the way) and posed my next question. ‘Did you find out why this happened to you?’ He smiled again and nodded. I instantly regretted my wording. I’d given him a yes or no question again. He paused and offered me a lifeline. ‘Ask me about him?’ He pointed at the mural painted on the ceiling above us of a jolly Santa riding his sleigh across the sky. 

That was all he was willing to give me and he left me to work on my fourth question. I needed to ask something about Father Christmas and how he was involved. So Father Christmas was real? My mind raced as I tried to get comfier in my chair. I was feeling the bloat now. The cheese in that pancake was sitting very heavily on my stomach. Otto returned with a bowl of steaming Christmas pudding. He’d brought me a whole one covered in custard that could have fed a family of six. I settled in to eat the fragrant dessert. I was struggling a bit now. It was a heavy thing to pack on top of what I’d already had. Otto was clearly enjoying watching me eat it though. He was on his fourth beer at this point and wasn’t really showing any signs of being drunk. Apparently Germans can really handle their beer. 

Finishing the pudding I dropped my spoon into the bowl. ‘Alright.’ I said, belching deeply under my breath. ‘You’ve just told me Santa is part of this. If Santa is real then he’s obviously some sort of magical being or fae. Here’s my question.’ I reached over and put my hand on the top of his massive belly shelf and patted it. ‘How does Santa give you this belly every Christmas Day?’ 

‘Now we’re getting somewhere!’ Otto added. He drained his beer again and I swore under my fingers I could feel his belly swelling a little bit more. ‘After year five of doctors and experts not knowing why I gained nearly 200 lbs every year, I started getting desperate. I did some research online and put some feelers out there. I wasn’t expecting to find the answers I found! Turns out there are loads of guys like me around the world and we all have several things in common. All of us are over 6 feet tall, and all of us are pretty into fitness or sports. Big solid strapping men. Not one of them knew what was happening to us. That was until I found a guy in Norway who has a theory. He told me this crazy story. He’d heard rumours of this happening for hundreds of years. There were some Norwegian folk tales of trolls who would trick mortal men into being their ‘Magebror’, literally translated as ‘belly brother’. The trolls would then go off and gorge themselves all night and the poor magebror would begin to get fatter and fatter until they would burst open. He thought that we were cursed by trolls and we should simply thank the gods we weren’t bursting open. Obviously I ignored him but the more research I did the more I found out that there were some truths in these myths. It wasn’t something he’d invented but a real fable that appeared in several different folk laws across Scandinavia. I got back in touch with him and he’d vanished, so I headed off to Norway to try and find him. It took me a while but eventually I did. And low and behold he was 6’6 and stacked but with a huge pot belly twice the size of mine. He told me he’d been investigating more and more and had uncovered the truth. It wasn’t trolls doing this to us, it was Father Christmas. I could have punched him in the face. I’d gone all this way only to find that the guy truly was mental. I didn’t even say goodbye. I headed straight back home, gave up the search and tried to lose the weight again before Christmas.’

‘Christmas Eve came and I couldn’t quite shake the idea that this guy had put in my head. I decided to sit up and see if I could stay awake to see what would happen. I nearly didn’t make it but as the clock struck midnight something changed in the house. I felt an electricity in the air and you can imagine my surprise when he landed with a thump in my fireplace. And he was not how I imagined him to look. In front of me was not a fat old man with a grey beard, but a total hunk. He was tall and muscled like I used to be. Clean shaved but with some incredible big dick energy. Like some sort of daddy stud. I don't quite remember fully but I think he did have some ram horns sprouting from his head but they might have been part of the costume? It was a lot anyway. He smiled as if he recognised me. We waited in silence for a few minutes. I was totally enthralled by how attractive he was. I almost didn’t want to ask my question. Eventually I managed to speak and asked why I was gaining weight every Christmas Day. He seemed all too pleased to tell me as he launched into the explanation. It was simple, he had a few billion homes to visit every year and in every country, there was a tradition to leave food out for him. He had to eat millions of cookies and mince pies and treats in just a few hours as he travelled. And so he used magic! He would choose a load of men, all who had the frame to handle the mass, and they would be his magebror. He’d learnt from the trolls how to do it. He would eat the food and they would get fat. I was simply one of a few hundred guys who would wake up with bellies packed full of treats every year so he could stay toned and handsome. And that's why I got fat every year!’

So it wasn’t just me that had encountered these guys. This was finally some proof that what happened to me in that diner was real! The relief for me was immense. I wasn’t going mad. My mind was pulled back to earth as Otto stood to get my final meal. I had one more question. The one thing I didn’t know was how he could do it at will. He’d obviously found a way to control how and when he bulked up. And the intimate question, could he teach me how to do it?  He returned with the final meal. A huge ironic plate full of cookies. There were at least a dozen and they were big ones. He slapped them on the table next to a large jug of milk. Obediently and greedily I started eating them. Dipping them in the milk,I was determined to get through them. One by one I swallowed each one down. Adding to the knot of pressure in my already overpacked stomach. My belly was feeling every bite as it distended outwards. Finishing the cookies was tough but I still had a few litres of milk to chug. There was nothing for it but to go for it. Lifting the jug to my lips I poured the cool milk into my stuffed gut. It felt good and horrible at the same time. I could feel my belly actually swelling out and straining my taut T-shirt. As the last of the milk drained down my throat, I slammed the jug on the table. Out of breath I posed my final question. ‘How do you control it? How come you can make your belly swell out when you want it to? How can I do that?’

His eyes sparkled. ‘That was three questions!’ He laughed. He reached over and gave my belly a stroke. He was firm but it was the touch of someone who knew how to handle a distended gut. ‘You’ve done well though! I’ll answer them. When I caught Santa out that night, I was the first one. No one had tracked him down before and he was pleased with me. I don’t wanna kiss and tell but let’s just say I sat on Santa's lap and he gave me a gift! He gave me the same ability that he has. The weight of food he eats, I can manage myself. Meaning I can gain his weight at will, whenever I like.  Then all I have to do to get rid of it is touch a guy like he does and he becomes my magebror! I’m not magic so it’s not quite as strong as his abilities are. My magebrors are only temporary and one offs.’

I was so stuffed I didn’t quite pick up on what he was saying but I nodded anyway. That explained why he was touching the hot dads in the queue. The idea of a load of guys walking up tomorrow morning a few pounds heavier was kinda hot. To be honest, I was just relieved that I wasn’t imagining things. He helped me up out of the booth and we walked back through the mall. We chatted a bit more about my experience and some of the leads I’d found. All the while I was painfully aware of how full I was. I couldn’t stop belching as we walked, the movement dislodging the gas. As I walked, I kept one hand on the top of my gut, rubbing my bloated belly to try and ease the pressure. I’d not felt this stuffed for a while and it felt good. 

I walked him back to his truck and he jumped in. As he jumped up I realised he was back to his original toned and lean self. I pointed it out and he just smiled as he drove off. As I stood in the snow processing the information I’d just been given I was interrupted by a ping. I was confused until I realised my trousers had become loose. The ping was my top button from my jeans. I looked down to see my belly was twice the size as it was when I had finished eating. I realised that he’d touched me as he helped me out of the booth. I had become his magebror! My belly had to be close to the same size it was when Obi had his way with me. I smiled as I explored my swollen belly with my hands. Also, it wasn’t lost on me that I’d just had a conversation with someone who had fucked Santa. 

For the rest of my stories click here

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

The story:

The BBC has apologised for reporting Hamas claims that the Israeli army was responsible for carrying out “summary executions” in the Gaza strip without seeking sufficient corroborating evidence. The story, which appears to have been based on a report from the news agency AFP [Agence France-Presse], centered on a statement from the Hamas terror group. It accused Israeli troops of illegally killing 137 Palestinian civilians since the war started on October 7 and burying them in a pit in northern Gaza. The BBC said that it had failed to “make sufficient effort to seek corroborating evidence to justify reporting the Hamas claim”. It added that its accusations were attributed and its story contained a response from the Israeli military saying that it was unaware of the incident and that Hamas was a terrorist organisation that did not value truth. Some staff considered that by posting the report on its corrections and clarifications web page, the BBC had not gone far enough to rectify its mistake. “Unless this apology is public and broadcast in the same arena as the original mistake, the damage is done,” said one Jewish employee. A second staffer added: “They have taken the Hamas line — a terror organisation — at face value, far too much since October 7. And nothing has changed. And again it’s an apology about a very serious accusation against Israel hidden on a corrections page.” The BBC has previously apologised for a television report that Israeli troops had targeted medical staff during a raid on a hospital in Gaza in November. The previous month it had admitted that it was wrong of one of its correspondents to speculate that that a rocket that fell outside al-Ahli hospital in Gaza had been fired by Israel.

So there you have it: a completely bogus report, originating from Hamas, that the BBC apologized for because it didn’t do “due diligence”.

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in April 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup [ @1dmonthlyficroundup ] which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #61 |  ko-fi | fic recs

- Louis/Harry -

🌼 When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo

(E, 79k, F1 au) In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.

🌼 Colorful Hearts by Larrysmomfics / @larrysmomfics

(M, 20k, humor) In a world where orgasmic emissions change color depending on the person’s mood, Louis Tomlinson’s semen has only ever been blue. At the recommendation of his doctor he attends a support group for people with similar conditions. 

🌼 In a swirl of flashing lights by @lunaticcat009

(M, 15k, friends to lovers) Harry taps on Louis' window with a sad smile and they sneak into a closed carnival. A starry night of them running around the abandoned premises with their fingers intertwined ensues.

🌼 Fuck You For Ruining New York City For Me by galactic_larry / @galacticlarry

(T, 11k, exes) Louis broke up with him in their New York apartment, so Harry left the city for good. Except now he’s back, visiting with his new boyfriend.

🌼 defying stars by localopa / @voulezloux

(T, 9k, high school) the marching band au only one person (and that was me) asked for.

🌼 Half a World Away by @silverstuff50

(E, 9k, omegaverse) Bothy: A bothy is a basic shelter, usually left unlocked and available for anyone to use free of charge. Bothies are found in remote mountainous areas of Scotland, Northern England, Ulster and Wales. 

🌼 Where All Roads Lead by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(NR, 7k, neighbors) Harry's Christmas takes an unexpected turn when he discovers a misplaced holiday card in his letterbox. He never thought that braving the snow to return the card to its sender would be so worth his while.

🌼 Does it Ever Drive You Crazy? (Just How Fast the Night Changes) by xx_soup_xx

(G, 7k, strangers to lovers) Baker Harry Styles takes it upon himself to get his mysterious grumpy customer, Louis Tomlinson, to like Christmas by taking him on a disastrous first date.

🌼 Girl Crush by Hopeless_blue

(T, 7k, strangers to lovers) He used to be so close to fulfilling his dreams when he participated in X-Factor. But that was four years ago, and now, on a rainy day, he wanders the streets looking for a pub where he could sing sometimes. Charming bartender Louis is ready to give him a shot...

🌼 Why Don’t We Start Writing The Story Of Us by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa

(T, 6k, omegaverse) Alpha Louis and Omega Harry get off on the wrong foot, Louis has the worst timing, and Harry believes in second chances. Three times Louis asks Harry on a date and the one time Harry accepts

🌼 I Might Say Yes by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 6k, established relationship) the one where Harry buys a wedding dress on a whim. And his very doting boyfriend, Louis, is more than happy to indulge him

🌼 now i'm tracin' all my steps to you by @alwaysxlarrie

(T, 5k, 5 times fic) Of all the things Harry was prepared for this summer, Louis Tomlinson and his wonderful, wonderful scent isn't one of them. It probably shouldn't be as shocking as it is that it makes Harry want to nest.

🌼 Crimson Clover by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(T, 5k, soulmates) Harry and Louis are soulmates, but one is already promised to another. When their plan to flee is discovered and they are separated, Harry falls gravely ill.

🌼 I’ll tell you something (I hope you’ll understand) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(E, 2k, girl direction) Louis insists that Harry stay off her phone and in the safety of Louis' room rather than risk moping in her own texting her ex-boyfriend. When Harry agrees on one condition, Louis' safe night in could become something else entirely.

🌼 All The Way Home I'll Be Warm by @justanothershadeofblue

(T, 2k, friends to lovers) Harry & Louis jokingly send out holiday cards together as friends, and now everyone is congratulating them for finally getting together. A 5+1 fic, for Christmas.

🌼 beech tree in autumn by @juliusschmidt

(E, 1k, summer romance) Louis walks forward. Harry walks back. And back. And back. Off the two track, through the brush, until his heel bangs against the trunk of a tree.

🌼 hey stupid, i love you by @enchantedlandcoffee

(T, 1k, omegaverse) The one where self-proclaimed Valentine's Day hater, Louis, surprises his boyfriend on their first Valentine's together.

🌼 skinny dip (in water under the bridge) by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal

(G, 880 words, exes) It’s a Wednesday and nostalgia might just get the best of Louis.

- Rare Pairs -

🌼 Finally, You and I (Collide) by @lululawrence

(NR, 14k, Zayn/Louis) the five times Louis was accidentally wooed by cookies and the one time he was purposefully wooed by brownies.

🌼 I Saw Several Angels in the Self Help Section by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(G, 3k, ot5) Zayn and Louis are soulmates. They're also missing some soulmates. For extra flavour, it's Christmas.

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Merry Little Christmas

Druig x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Prompt: @the-sunflower-room “can’t stop thinking about druig and have yourself a merry little christmas- so cozy 😭🙏🏻”

Note: This was actually requested last year, I believe, but I’ve always wanted to write it. I’m sorry it took me so long to get around to it, but I hope you like it! Happy Holidays, everyone <3

Warnings: None! Just cozy Christmas celebrations <3

Word Count: 1.6k words

Reader Is: Gender Neutral!

Druig was never one for holidays. He wasn’t a scrooge, per se, but, as an Eternal, the seasons came and went so quickly. Years were mere blinks to a being who was thousands of years old. However, the look on your face as you put the ornaments on the tree made something stir around his heart, he had to admit.

He was sipping cocoa from a mug with a snowman on it, one from your vast collection. Kingo was in the kitchen, mixing up beverages, which was why he sensed a bit of liquor in the chocolatey beverage. It was still good, obviously, but he definitely blamed that for the rosy hue his cheeks had taken on.

Definitely not the cute little reindeer antlers you were wearing. Definitely not the way your laughter sounded from across the room.

All of the Eternals were there. A rare feat, but with the danger defeated, for now at least, it was cause for celebration, a time to be with family. It was your house you were all celebrating in, a large place tucked away in Northern Michigan, which, at this time of year, was absolutely covered in a thick layer of snow, more and more fluffy flakes coming down as the moments passed.

You spent your time as a writer. One of the most prolific of your time, the reviews said. But then again, you did have a thousand year head start on the rest of them.

Druig would never admit to it, but he had read them. All of them, every single one. He’d borrow them from libraries, read excerpts in bookstores, but Makkari had a collection of them, too. She was your most loyal beta reader. Therefore, when one went missing, she always had a pretty decent suspicion of who the culprit was.

And he wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure most of your love interests shared a certain resemblance with…well, him. He didn’t like the way it stirred around in his chest, the way it made him feel so warm and…hopeful. But then again, he’d never asked you what you felt.

“(Y/N), where are your Christmas records?” Phastos asked, standing over with his husband, Ben, as they dug through a crate of records.

“Oh! I forgot to bring them down, I think. I’ll go grab them. I needed to get the topper anyway.” You stepped down from your stepladder and handed the ornament in your hand to Sprite, who was sitting on the floor under the tree, shaking gifts. Typical.

Druig watched as you left, eyes glued to you. Which was why he didn’t notice when Sersi had joined him, standing right beside him.

He gasped, mug rattled, but not to the point that he spilled any on his sweater. He cursed and looked over at her. “What?”

“You look rather festive, Druig. I thought you didn’t care for holidays.”

“I thought so too…” He muttered into his mug, taking a long sip.

“Right. Well, I think I saw some mistletoe in that box of decorations. I can put it up if you’d like?” She asked, that glimmer in her eyes that she got when she wanted to meddle.

Druig thought on it, as he heard your footsteps coming back down the stairs. He met her eyes and that was all that was needed. She nodded and set across the room, plucking it out of the box, along with a length of fishing line.

“I found it! The Muppets and John Denver!” You said excitedly, presenting another crate of records, this one all Christmas. “And some other stuff.”

“May I?” Phastos asked.

“Yeah, of course.” You handed them over and walked back over to the tub of ornaments, searching for a very special one. It was a large mug of cocoa with eleven marshmallows in it, each one etched with the name of an Eternal. You smiled softly and tucked it into the branches of your artificial tree, curling the fake pine to support its weight.

“Where did you find one with so many slots?” Druig found himself asking as he crossed the room to stand behind you.

“Had it custom made.” You replied, turning to face him.

“It’s beautiful, (Y/N).” Ajak complimented warmly from her seat by the fire.

“Thanks. Thought we needed something like that.”

“What are these?” Sprite asked, digging through the other box and pulling out a stocking with Thena’s name embroidered on it.

“Stockings.”

“You had those made, too?” Ajak asked, getting up to see for herself.

“Well, I did them. The embroidery, at least.” You admitted with a shrug, motioning to the hooks under the mantle. “We can put them up, if you want.”

Makkari nodded and grabbed the stockings, putting them all in one clean row in a blur of red and green. She stood next to Druig, elbowing him and tilting her head towards his stocking, which she’d put on the end.

Right next to yours.

He nearly choked on his cocoa. So did everyone know, then? Sersi, Makkari, who else? Kingo, no doubt.

“You alright there, Druig? Looking flushed.” Ikaris jabbed, that wicked gleam in his eyes.

Alright, then, yeah, it was everyone. Everyone but you, it seemed.

It was as if a stormcloud manifested above his head. He shook his head and stalked off towards the kitchen. He didn’t know much, but he did know a cookie would make him feel better. Snacks always seemed to. And there was no shortage of them, especially now, when you and Gilgamesh had baked nearly twelve dozen batches of them. Gingerbread, snickerdoodle, sugar cookies shaped like trees, chocolate chip, oatmeal no-bakes.

He reached for a sprinkle-covered tree and bit off the tip of it, the frosting sweet. The oven started beeping and you rushed in, arming yourself with an oven mitt before reaching in for what he assumed must be one of the last trays. Oatmeal raisin, it looked like.

“Do you need any help?” He asked, staring as you straightened up and brushed the hair out of your face.

“Oh! Thank you, Druig. I’m all set, though. Are they good?”

“Are what—” He looked down at the half-eaten tree in his hand. “Oh, yeah. They’re great.”

“Awesome.” You grinned. “New frosting recipe.”

“Well it’s perfect, whatever it is.” He leaned against the counter, that boyish smirk on his face. He wasn’t sure what came over him, then, but he had to get it out. “It’s great, by the way. That new book of yours.”

“You read it?”

“I read all of your books.” He confessed. “I think this one’s your best.”

Your heart raced as you met his eyes. Surely he knew, right? He had to. That you’d been writing about him for centuries. When he’d left all those years ago, hundreds of years ago, he’d taken a piece of your heart with him, a piece you’d only found in fiction, it seemed.

“Thank you. It…it means a lot to hear you say that.”

“Can’t wait for your next one.” He winked, plucking up a second cookie and leaving the kitchen before his tongue got him in any more trouble than it already had.

***

Later in the night, when almost everyone had gone to sleep, you were up, wrapping presents in front of the fireplace, folding the paper neatly, complete with name tags and perfect little bows.

You’d switched records. It was an older one, the Rat Pack.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas…Let your heart be light…

The words were smooth, glided right out of the speaker. Snow was still coming down in droves. It was good you had nowhere to go, otherwise you’d be snowed in. Well, if your family didn’t have every superpower known to man, you would be anyway. You were glad they were there.

You were glad they were home.

“Can’t sleep?” Druig’s voice startled you from your reverie and you turned around, grateful his present was already wrapped and under the tree.

“Not until I get these wrapped.” You told him.

“Christ, you really do go all out, don’t you?” He chuckled, crossing the room and sitting on the floor beside you, yet another cookie in his hand.

“I think I’d lose my mind if I didn’t. Keeps me…in synch. The routine of a year, you know?”

“Mmm.” He hummed, nodding, face alight in the warm oranges of the flames. “I didn’t see it that way until…recently.”

“Until right now?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckled, watching as you carefully wrapped the last one, taping every edge perfectly and putting a tag on top, printing Sprite’s name with a pen. “What’d you get her?”

“You’ll have to find out tomorrow morning.” You told him, shifting to slide it under the tree with the others. “What did you get her?”

“It’s a surprise.” He grinned as you settled in next to him.

“Is it a surprise to you, too?”

He gasped, offended. “I got presents for everyone!”

“I believe you.”

“Sure you do.” He shook his head, laughing softly. “Say, ehm, (Y/N), I’ve been wondering…”

“Mistletoe!” You gasped, staring straight up at the ceiling where, sure enough, a string of mistletoe hung, glittering in the low light. “Who put that up?”

“Well I’ll be…” He breathed, staring up at it, too, heart racing faster than it had in any battle. “What…do you suppose we do about that?”

“I have a few ideas.” You slowly brought your gaze down, meeting his eyes.

He may have been the telepath, but you could tell the only thing on his mind was you as he leaned in, thick eyelashes fluttering shut as his lips met yours, pink and plush and warm. You kissed back, not leaving a single doubt in his mind that you wanted this, wanted him. Your hand rose to his flushed cheek, holding him close as his arm wound around your waist.

The grandfather clock struck midnight, and he pulled away to rest his forehead on yours, noses flush, eyes on you, glimmering with a million words unspoken. He did have a few, though. “Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

“Merry Christmas, Druig.”

[oldfashioned-lovergirl]

❃ FLUFFCEMBER (F1 EDITION) ❃

Hi i’m back!! I decided to do this challenge to get myself back at writing (commissions are still open btw).

I’ll start this now because I said so (I’ll probably be very busy so I may be skip some days. I’ll try to keep them short so it’s easier for me to complete it).

Thank you @fluff-cember for making this super cozy challenge! ❄️

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Day 01: Holiday Decorations — Lewis Hamilton

Day 02: Winter Flu — Kimi Räikkönen

Day 03: Snow Man — Nico Rosberg

Day 04: Christmas Sweater — Sebastian Vettel

Day 05: Northern Lights

Day 06: Gingerbread House

Day 07: Condensed Breath

Day 08: Sparkling Snow

Day 09: Sugar Rush

Day 10: Carols

Day 11: Slippery

Day 12: Skiing

Day 13: Fire and Ice

Day 14: Winter Soup

Day 15: Naughty List

Day 16: Chocolate

Day 17: Snowed in

Day 18: Mistletoe

Day 19: Hot Bath

Day 20: Fairy Tales

Day 21: Cabin in the Snow

Day 22: Winter Storm

Day 23: Confessions

Day 24: Christmas Tree

Day 25: The Perfect Gift

Day 26: Forgiveness

Day 27: Family Gathering — Fernando Alonso

Day 28: Fallen Through The Ice

Day 29: Coming Home — Max Verstappen

Day 30: Warming Up

Day 31: Fireworks

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Yeah I may have already replaced some with the alternatives ;)

I love Christmas and winter! May y’all have happy holidays! 🎄

MAIN MASTERLIST

[xflixer7]

all of my yellowjacket headcannons (so far)

word count is like a trillion ok i’m not counting all of this

hi it’s been 8 months i finally counted (1865 words)

lottie

she/her transfem! lesbian bottom (i wanna eat her whole)

-schizophrenic

-definitely has some type of ocd

-ptsd

-autistic because i say so

started playing soccer when she was little

will actually go insane is you steal any of her clothes if you look at her she will actually be drooling with heart eyes

plays piano

also knows violin because her parents made her take it doesn’t play is anymore though

lottie isn’t jealous but very protective

her favorite (modern!) singers are

-phoebe bridgers

-clairo

-#1 laufey fan on the world

-fiona apple

unironically knows every katy perry song by heart because she used to be her favorite when she was little

her room is huge

likes putting her hair in pigtails

golden retriever girlfriend she’s so sweet ugh and loves to spend time and money on her person you always staying at her house would literally kiss the ground the person she is dating walker on if they asked her too:((

also the worst cooker you ever met like how did you fuck up toast why is the smoke alarm going off??

favorite color is blue

lottie definitely has a hairstylist she goes too every month to get permed and there really close i can see her telling them about ALL the school drama

lottie wants write story’s when she’s older maybe romance or mystery idk but i can just imagine her having a typewriter and writing you story’s she has wanted to do it since she was a kid and is very passionate about it:((

what i think her favorite shows are:desperate housewives,american horror story,sailer moon

so scared of horror movie like she will start crying

her favorite characters are:

-emily (corpse bride)

-bree (desperate housewives)

-starfire (teen titans)

always goes on and on about how she’s bubblegum and your marceline she LOVES adventure time

her favorite movie is bridge to terabithia

lotties favorite animal is a bunny and she really wants a pet bunny

BEGS you to give her your bra and your confused but you give it too her and she makes a bracelet out of it and wears it practically every day proudly

also think that lottie is a great artist? like sketching and painting wise

nat

SAY IT WITH ME transmasc! (he/they) definitely bi because i say so

-depressed

-dyslexic

-ptsd

started playing soccer in middle school

LOVES christmas like has an unhealthy obsession with it (tries to act like he doesn’t)

northern italian knows the language pretty well also a great cook

wants to play electric guitar

his favorite (modern!) singers are

-tyler the creator

-radiohead

-alex g

-hole

-is so obsessed with mistki don’t even get me started

randomly painted his room black one day when he was bored

usually prefers his hair down

you give him haircuts he doesn’t trust anyone else someone definitely fucked up his hair once and he never went back

his favorite color is black or gray

just wants to be famous tbh but he wants to be in a band

what i think his favorite shows are:rick and morty,bojack horseman,shameless

LOVES horror movies and reality tv like 90 day fiancé and the kardashions (his guilty pleasure)

also likes claymation

his favorite characters are

-ash (fantastic mr fox)

-alyssa (the end of the fucking world)

-coraline (coraline)

his favorite movie is little miss sunshine

nat’s favorite animal is a panther he saw one in the jungle book when he was little and just thought it looked cool

always headcannoing characters as trans like finn from adventure time or jeff from clarence he’s so cute:((

nat skateboards too definitely not great at it but does it when he’s bored

jackie

(she/her) jackie is just a bratty pillow princess lesbian you can’t fool me

-adhd asf

-neurodivergent for sure

-ptsd

started playing soccer because she was bored eighth grade tbh i don’t think she likes it as much as the others but she thinks it’s fun

chronic hoodie stealer

this girl is a vegetarian for sure

jackie is jealous always period

her gay ass button ups bro

her favorite (modern!) singers are

-ariana grande her fav

-rihanna

-billie eilish

-harry styles

-lana del ray

pretty mainstream music taste

all pink room it’s very like coquette?

ponytail girl but also enjoys her hair down

favorite color is light pink duh

wants to be a makeup guru or just stay at home honestly she hates working

what i think her favorite shows are:euphoria, grays anatomy,glee,vampire diaries

i think she likes very drama files shows and will rant about tv show characters and there dynamics and why she think that there like that and etc for HOURS

ughhh jackie is such a girls girl like she is the friend who always has your back and has gum or a tampon for you she is the friend who would check you on your period

her favorite characters are:

-maddy (euphoria)

-regina (mean girls)

-winnie the pooh (she thinks he’s cute)

her favorite movie is DEFINITELY jennifer’s body

jackie is a cat lover and has 2 i can see her with a orange and a gray cat and they always fight

shauna

DEFINITELY bi (she/her)

-bipolar

-ptsd

joined soccer with jackie in eighth grade

has like thousands of boxers

russian

knows how to play saxophone (she doesn’t even know how she learned she just did) she doesn’t own one though

so jealous but never says anything (this girl cannot communicate to save her life)

her favorite (modern!) singers are

-the cranberries

was so mad when they got popular on tiktok and had to let everyone know they where her fav since day 1 (everyone knew)

-suki waterhouse

-cigarettes after sex

-never got over halsey since 2017

-the smiths

(a TRUE music lover over here)

she honestly doesn’t care how her room looks but it’s never clean

doesn’t do anything with her hair really

dark green is her favorite color

shauna’s hair may seem simple but she’s VERY picky about how it’s cut and is always worried there gonna cut it bad so she gets it cut like twice a year(she always ends up hating it)

she wants to be some sort of doctorate she’s fascinated by the human body so i can see her wanting to be a surgeon

what i think her favorite shows are:good girls, queens gambit,13 reasons why

her favorite characters are:

-velma (chicago)

-cassie (euphoria)oh the parallels…

-amy (gone girl)

her favorite movie is chicago (loves musicals)

a simple gal she really likes dogs

taissa

she/her lesbian

-anxiety

-ptsd

joined soccer in fifth grade

mixed (duh)

used to be in the marching band

her favorite (modern!) singers are

-frank ocean

-post malone

-has a soft spot for shawn mendas has all of his albums

-really enjoys 60’s music so she really likes the beetles

her room is pretty big too not huge on decorating

doesn’t care about hair like at all will wear a headband sometimes

a good girlfriend like if your cold she will give you her jacket type she has a temper never jealous either girlfriend material she’s the type you would want your kid to date y’know?

respectful to adults gets good grades and stuff

her favorite color is like a pearlescent white and everyone is like what the hell is that (she is trying to be different this is one of my favorite colors😿)

cuts her own hair thinks it’s overpriced and dumb to have someone professionally do it

tai wants to be something important like president or some shit i can see her being a lawyer

what i think her favorite shows are:the umbrella academy,big mouth,skins

tai only watches skins and euphoria type shows because she loves the drama

her favorite characters:

-hermoine (harry potter)

-patrick (perks of being a wallflower)

-nadine (edge of seventeen)

her favorite movie is the 6th harry potter movie she also thinks it’s the most underrated

she likes tigers

van

she/her and lesbian duh

-ptsd

joined soccer kinda randomly in seventh grade

irish

plays the trumpet but is kinda embarrassed by it

her favorite (modern!) singers are

-bruno mars

-tori amos

-girl in red duh

-david bowie

-was ziggy stardust for halloween when she was 8

can’t convince me her room is not painted red

doesn’t care about hair either puts in a ponytail to keep it out of her face

is a great girlfriend all the same traits as taissa except not the best at school she’s honestly surprised she graduated

favorite color is red

her uncle cuts her hair for like five bucks out of his garage also i definitely think she used to have a bowl cut when she was little

doesn’t really care about money she just wants to be happy wants to own a record store or be a professional soccer player

speaking of records she definitely has a lot of collections like lowkey a hoarder…but her stuff is cool though! like funky pops hot wheels cd’s records etc

what i think her favorite shows are:beavis and butthead, avatar, south park

mostly likes adult animation

her favorite characters are:-harley (suicide squad)-ron (harry potter)-beast boy (teen titans)

her favorite movie is the bee movie or lego batman there cinematic masterpieces

van likes pigeons for not particular reason she just thinks there funny looking

i can see van as a surfer too like her dad definitely is one also i can imagine her being really close with her dad and they have a local family business bakery:((

misty

she/her and idk her sexually like i genuinely have no idea

-autistic

-ptsd

always wanted to be on the team but knew she was bad at sports

german definitely

her favorite (modern!) singers are

-any female kpop band

-justin bieber

-pink-

melanie martenz is her favorite forever

light purple room has justin bieber posters everywhere

lowkey forgets she has hair whenever people comment on it she’s like “oh yeah!”

very obsessive of you and loves you almost too much sometimes you think it’s creepy but than your like “awww she’s so cute”

likes the color yellow

her favorite colors are brown and orange (there her favorite because she feels bad everyone calls them ugly)

i can see her being a k-pop stan too

(her bias in bts is j-hope)

also is a famous editer on tiktok and no one knows😭her username is like “gxxbflix” or some shit

literally has had one haircut in her life like it never grows?

i see her as a pharmacist

what i think her favorite shows are:walking dead,mlp,monster high

has SO many online friends

definitely loves romance anime

she’s in like every fandom ever because she wants to have online friends and be included on discord😭

plays clarinet

is in band

favorite characters:

-cruella (cruella)-alice (alice in wonderland)-edward (edward sciccor hands)

and mistys favorite movie is alice through the looking glass (because it shows the queen of hearts back story and misty loves her)

and misty likes birds duh

those are my headcannons for them i know it’s a lot but i’m obsessed ok send requests if you have any please

-🙈