#December Twentieth

[floridaboiler]

HAPPY NATIONAL SANGRIA DAY!!! Across the nation each year on December 20, National Sangria Day is observed by enjoying a well-mixed sangria. Sangria is a beverage made with wine and sweetened with fresh fruit and fruit juices. Refreshing and light during hot summer months, bright and sparkling during the winter ones, this fruity punch is quite versatile.

[wndaswife]

secret santa | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Your stepmother could not be more happy to have you back home for the holidays. To celebrate, she’s planned a very special surprise for you.

Word count: 9143

Tags | MDNI: smut, fluff, some angst, strap-ons, blowjobs, spanking, cunnilingus, i don’t know the word for usage of a leash and collar, but there is leash and collar usage in this, so i suppose… mild pet play?, mommy kink, praise kink, dom!wanda maximoff

gif credit to vanessacarlysle

Since mid-November, neither you nor Wanda have had very much time to see each other; exams had started for you, and Wanda was working exceptionally hard within the Church Committee to organize the upcoming Christmas events. 

As such, you hadn’t been able to do much but call each other when you could during some evenings and text throughout the day. 

It was a pain, because although calling and texting stayed some burning desire to see each other, it also simultaneously added fuel to the fire, knowing that neither of you were really with the other.

So you were extraordinarily excited to spend the next two whole weeks with Wanda, and she was excited to see you too. While you were packing, you had even been on a call with her as she got ready for bed, making sure you packed all that you needed to and that you were ready for your trip home. 

There was always something so captivating about watching Wanda get ready for bed, whether it was the brushing of her hair or the way she applied her expensive moisturizer and ran her fingers across her face and down her neck, or watching her do it all in her silk slip that revealed so much of her smooth-as-cream skin — really, all you knew was that you couldn’t wait to see her again. 

On the twentieth of December, you came home, and it was your father who came out of the house first and greeted you, asking how you were and taking your bags from the trunk. 

Though you told Wanda practically everything that happened while you were away, there were some things she kept to herself — things that stayed between the two of you. Sometimes you forgot that Wanda didn’t tell Vision everything, for you were surprised, here and there, that he asked about things that you’d already told his wife. 

He did ask Wanda about you, for he knew you seemed much more inclined to speak with your stepmother about your day-to-day life than you were in speaking with him, which was rather natural. 

In these instances, Wanda liked any excuse to talk about you, to gush about how proud she was of you and to share in the excitement of having you back home. 

In fact, with the holidays coming around, the mothers at the Church Committee began to speak more frequently about their children coming home for the holidays too, and Wanda loved when they asked about you. She’d been spending hours upon hours a week planning events with the church, and because Westview was rather small, the church had ties to nearly every city event as well as those for the elementary school, so being able to talk about you during those tiresome hours was especially refreshing. 

“Wanda’s inside just about to finish baking the banana bread,” Vision said as he began advancing up the stairs. “Some of Wanda’s committee friends are joining us for dinner in an hour. I’m not sure if she told you.”

She didn’t tell you about that. 

But no matter; you could deal with a few extra guests, because what mattered now was that you were home and Wanda was in the next room. 

When you entered the kitchen, Wanda’s hair was tied back and she had an apron around her waist — a telltale sign that she had been cooking if not already obvious from the smell of dinner coming from the dining room. She had just put the banana bread in the oven, and she straightened and turned to you. 

She took her oven mitts off and you immediately approached each other with Wanda’s arms outreached and a warm, happy smile on her lips. You wrapped your arms around her waist and hers came around your torso.

You buried your nose in her hair and she kissed your shoulder and up your neck. 

“Y/N…” she muttered into your skin, slowly warming from the cold air outside. One of her hands pushed up the back of your neck and she rubbed the pads of her fingers against the back of your head.

“You smell really good.”

Wanda laughed and she pulled away to hold your face in her hands, rubbing the cold of your cheeks away with her warm thumbs. “It’s because I’ve been cooking for nearly three hours,” she said. 

She looked down at you still in your jacket. “What are you still doing in this, hm?” she asked, letting go of you and unzipping your jacket. She slid it down your arms. “That is no way to greet your stepmother — still in your jacket and all.”

You smiled. “I missed you so much, Wanda,” you said. You leaned forward and kissed her lips. There was flour on the bottom lip. You raised your hand and parted from her lips to brush it away gently. 

With her arms still around your shoulders, Wanda pulled you closer for a deeper kiss, then parted to pepper kisses across your cheek and down your neck. “I missed you too, angel,” she whispered.

The sounds of Vision’s footsteps echoed down the staircase and Wanda straightened and you parted from each other. She began undoing her apron.

“How was the drive, sweetheart?” she asked, rubbing her thumb against your cheek adoringly, then pulling her hand away to untie her apron. 

You and Wanda spoke while you helped clean the kitchen, with her telling you how things led up to her inviting some of her committee friends over for dinner. It felt like it normally did, talking with Wanda over the phone, but this time when you looked over at her, she was really there. 

This time, you could really reach over and touch her, sneak a few kisses, hold her, watch her as she was wiping down the counters and setting the table. 

Gods, how you missed her. 

“You should get changed,” Wanda said, setting down the cloth and undoing her hair. She hooked her fingers around the waistband of her pants and pulled you towards her, turning you so your ass was pressed against the counter and her hips were pressed against yours. 

You flushed and craned your neck to the side to see if perhaps your dad was coming down from upstairs without having been heard — he had said he was going to make a few work calls while he could so he was available throughout the evening. 

With her fingers against your jaw, Wanda turned your head so you were looking at her again. “You’re going to make me jealous,” she whispered low, “giving your attention to anything but me.” She grinned as she watched your cheeks tint in a warm blush. 

“How I’ve missed teasing you, sweetheart.” Wanda wrapped an arm around your hips and trailed her hand down to squeeze your ass. “Tell mommy you miss her teasing,” she pried, sticking out her bottom lip and pleading with her eyes. 

“M-Mommy, I missed your teasing,” you replied with a swallow. Having Wanda talk to you this way was nothing like it was over the phone, and certainly not over text either. You were almost ashamed that you’d nearly forgotten how much of an effect she had on you. 

Wanda seemed delighted, but not only because of your submission, but because it’d been so long since you’d been home with her. Even in visiting you at your place when she could, it wasn’t the same as having you home. It was the warmth and comfort of having you close at home that was special, and knowing you’d be there for a good while, during the mornings and the evenings. 

She kissed the tip of your nose. 

“Would you like to choose what I’m going to wear tonight?” she asked. 

You nodded, incredibly eager.

Wanda’s smile widened and she released you from between her and the counter. She wrapped an arm around your waist and held you close as you walked upstairs together. She rubbed your side with her warm hand while you nuzzled your face against her shoulder. “My little angel missed her mommy this much?”

You turned your whole body around in her arm and hugged her, burying your face in her neck and nodding. 

“Oh, honey…” Wanda whispered, rubbing her hand against your back, her other arm secure around your waist. “I know. I missed you too. I’m so happy that you’re home.”

Now that you were in Wanda’s arms, being held close to her while she comforted you, you were reminded just how much you missed being home. The visits weren’t the same as being home with her. Maybe you were overestimating because of how difficult this semester’s exams had been, but regardless, you were so happy to be with her. 

“Baby, I have a surprise for you,” she said, kissing the side of your head. You raised your head from her shoulder and looked at her curiously. “I booked a hotel for us to stay in for the next two days. I need to get a bit more Christmas shopping done, and I wanted to spend some time with just you.” She explained how she had worded it to Vision. 

You beamed. “Really?” you asked. You could only imagine it — spending some of the snowy season with just Wanda, having your own hotel room to come back to after spending the day together, being with her from the moment you woke up to the moment you fell asleep. 

Wanda pinched your nose and wiggled your head side to side gently. “Yes, really, sweetheart,” she said and let go of you to peck your lips. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

The way your body was practically vibrating told Wanda that you were on the brink of shouting out excitedly and she quickly told you to keep it down because Vision’s office was just down the hall and that he was still taking calls. She kissed you tenderly. “And I have one more surprise for you once we get there,” she told you. “But you’ll have to be a good girl and wait — no hints.”

As promised, Wanda let you pick out her outfit for the dinner, but because Vision had been so close and was likely going to finish up his calls soon, she didn’t allow you to watch her get changed or vice versa; you changed alone in your bedroom and Wanda in hers.

During dinner, you were reminded of the earlier days before you had started seeing your stepmother — watching her from afar, her charming smiles and her warm laughs, her subtle glances at you and how easy it was for her to slip into and start conversations. That is all to say, however, that for the entirety of dinner, you were watching Wanda from afar, interacting very little with her aside from the casual conversion that the typical stepmother and stepdaughter had.

Conversation with her, when had, was affectionate, certainly, but was nothing close to what you wish you could partake in with her after so long of being without her; you could hardly wait to spend all of the next two days together.

In the evening after dinner and while you were getting ready for bed — Wanda’s committee friends insisted they do all the clean-up — Wanda came up to your bedroom after her friends had gone. There was a quiet knock on your bedroom door, and you opened it to Wanda stepping into your bedroom and giving you a kiss.

She closed the bedroom door behind her.

“I know we didn’t get to spend much time together tonight, honey.” She held your face in her hand, stroking your cheek with her thumb gently. You held her other hand with yours. “But for the rest of the holiday, especially during the next two days, I’ll be all yours.” She kissed your forehead tenderly.

She pressed her forehead against yours, meeting your eyes with a soft smile as she uttered a soft, “Goodnight, Y/N. I’m so happy that you’re back home.”

In the morning, you began to stir from your sleep when your bed dipped beneath you. Then you were enveloped in a warmth, one that reached your body through your blankets.

Wanda had an arm wrapped around your torso and she leaned down to you while sitting on the edge of your bed, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Wake up, my angel,” she uttered softly. “Let’s get to packing, so we can leave early and get lunch together.”

“Mommy…” you muttered against your blankets, still half-asleep and slowly rousing from deep sleep.

Wanda couldn’t help but smile at seeing your sleepy face, and she nipped at your earlobe before lifting your blankets and getting under them with you. You initially groaned at the cold until Wanda turned you around and wrapped her arms around you, covering your face and neck in warm, soft kisses.

You whined, “Mommy, I’m sleepy!”

“Aw, you’re sleepy, huh?” she teased. She bit down on her bottom lip and brushed the tip of her nose against yours. Her fingers tugged at the waistline of your pajama pants, pulling you against her hips. “Is my baby sleepy?”

A small smile pulled onto your lips and you tried hiding it in Wanda’s shoulder, but she wouldn’t let you shy away once seeing you all cute and giggly. She let go of your pants and ran her hands up your shirt, her cold palms flat against your warm stomach. 

You couldn’t stop your giggles this time and Wanda chuckled. Her fingertips brushed against the underside of your breasts and you began squirming. 

Then without warning, Wanda groped your breasts with both hands, kneading then softly with her fingers. She watched close as your face contorted, squeezing your eyes shut and repressing a moan as you tried burying your face in her chest.

“Why don’t you lay back, honey, since you’re so tired?” Wanda suggested innocently, then released one of your breasts to push you down onto your back with her hand on your shoulder. She lifted your shirt up without hesitation and exposed your breasts to the cold air. 

She immediately dove down to wrap her lips around one of your nipples, using her hand to tug at the other. Her tongue circled your erect bud, flicking over it lightly as she sucked and eventually parted, giving your nipple a gentle tug between her teeth as she did. Then she moved to the other and did the same. 

“Mommy…” you moaned, trying your best to open your eyes and look down to savour the sight of seeing your stepmother touch you for the first time in a while. You could see her mess of blonde hair between your tits, splayed out a mess against your chest. 

Wanda pressed a kiss to both your breasts then pulled your shirt back down before moving up your body and kissing your lips. “Feeling awake now, doll?”

You rubbed your eyes, slightly lighthearted to have been touched in such a way after having just woken up. You nodded. “Yes. Awake,” you answered. 

“That’s my good girl. Come. Let’s have breakfast before we pack.”

It was only Christmas Eve and onwards that your dad would have his holiday break, so for the next two days, Wanda was really all yours. 

Wanda made you eggs and waffles, and made them just how you liked them too. She knew how tiring and a bit lonely living on your own could be, and she really wanted to pamper you and treat you as all sweet little girls ought to be — and she simply just loved to spoil you. 

You felt so taken care of with Wanda.

Mommy helped you back your things, making sure you didn’t forget anything and offering to carry some of your things in her bags in case yours didn’t fit; she was always taking care of you, always making sure you were loved and attended to. Sometimes you felt like there wasn’t a single thing she did that she did without thinking of you. 

The drive to New York felt like a dream — and quite literally. Often, when you were away from Wanda, you dreamt about things like watching movies together or making dinner or going on a long car ride with her, such things that were rather casual but meant so much. 

In the warm car listening to Christmas tunes while both you and Wanda spoke about an assortment of things, the snow blew wildly past your windows. 

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” Wanda asked, eyes on the road though her right hand came to rub your thigh affectionately. 

You looked over to her, garnering your stepmother’s attention for a split second before she looked back to the road. “I’m just happy to be here with you,” you answered.

You watched as a smile spread onto Wanda’s face.

“Oh, Y/N.” She practically gushed; she even seemed like she was blushing. It wasn’t rare for Wanda to blush with you, but you always really liked when she did. “I’m happy to be here with you too.” She squeezed your knee. 

The hotel Wanda had booked was rather nice, and seemed expensive, though that could’ve been partly attributed to how beautifully decorated it was for the holidays; there was a large lit up and decorated tree at the center of the lobby, as well as lights and hanging holly and ivy, with prop gifts and other decorations placed around lobby, but also throughout the entirety of the hotel. 

“Would you like to go shopping after dinner?” Wanda asked as the two of you set your bags down on the bed in your room. 

You slumped down on the bed, a singular Queen in the center of the room, and ran your arms up and down the expanse of it. “Yes — dinner then shopping,” you answered with a nod. 

Wanda grinned at seeing you laying down so relaxed and she approached you. Walking between your knees, she pushed your shirt up and pressed a kiss to your belly. Then she pulled it back down and stood above you, looking down at you. She rubbed her hands against your sides. 

“Let’s shower first?” she suggested, looking at how sleepy you looked. 

You opened your eyes and smiled. “Yes, please,” you answered. 

In the shower, Wanda lathered your body in soap with her hands then washed your hair, making sure to rinse you thoroughly in the warm shower water.

When it was your turn, she was enjoyably surprised when you chose to massage her shoulders beneath the water, stepping back against you and letting you touch her. More than simply being massaged, she liked just simply being touched by you, and how sweet and gentle you were with her and her body. 

“Y/N, that feels good…” she muttered at one point. Then, “I’ve been so tense the last few weeks. That feels wonderful. Thank you.” You weren’t sure if you were really blushing that hard or if it was the shower’s hot water. 

You loved being able to take care of each other; there was something so special about just being able to lather each other in lotion after showering and talking while drying up and getting dressed. With Wanda, it was so easy, and even the most simple things with her made you feel so warm. 

You always had a place to go with Wanda — a place you belonged.

After dinner, shopping in New York City just a few days before Christmas was rather chaotic, but you found yourself enjoying it all in spite of how busy it was. The snow and the Christmas lights decorating the city and the stores, the bustling people all eager to spend time with their loved ones while wrapped in their warm jackets and hats, and especially, walking hand-in-hand with Wanda made the experience really special. 

Coming back to the hotel, where it was just you and Wanda as it was in the morning and the entirety of the evening, solidified in your mind the idea that it was only you and Wanda that mattered in the whole world. It was only Wanda who needed your focus and attention, and it was only you in the whole world who needed hers. 

You’d have to be heading home in the morning after tomorrow, reintroducing the reality that there was more than just Wanda to think about, but for now, you were entirely comfortable in this temporary truth wherein only she and you mattered. 

If you were comfortable enough, you could almost make yourself believe that you had Wanda all to yourself for the entire holiday. 

“Are you ready for bed, my angel?” Wanda asked as you set down your bags of gifts together. 

“Not yet. Are you?”

Wanda shook her head, taking her jacket off and hanging it in the closet along with yours. “I’d like to show you the last surprise I kept for you,” she said, a mischievous grin forming on her face. “Would you like to see?”

Your stepmother loved when you begged, even when she knew she was already going to give in; she just liked when you asked her for things, so desperate for her attention and permission. 

“Pleeease,” you pleaded, tugging on her hand and making her giggle. 

She immediately gave in, of course. “Okay. Sit on the bed and close your eyes. I’ll have to get it out of my bag.”

You did as you were told, sitting on your bed with your hands folded in between your thighs, your eyes closed. You heard the unzipping of her bag and rustling of her clothes and other things she brought. Then you heard the padding of her feet against the carpet as she approached. 

“You look so cute sitting so polite and patient,” she teased, tapping the tip of her finger against your nose, making your face scrunch up. The bed dipped beside you and you felt Wanda’s thigh press against yours. A box was placed in your lap. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

On your lap was a light blue box patterned with little snowmen and reindeer, tied with gold ribbon. Wanda kissed your temple and wrapped an arm around your waist, anticipating your reaction. 

Buzzing with anticipation, you opened the box and carefully pulled back the sparkly white tissue paper to reveal a red and white lingerie set, and upon closer inspection, it was Christmas themed.

It was a two piece, with the top appearing to look like a red bow that tied together in the center between your breasts, a little bell hanging from it. It was also rimmed with faux white fur. 

The bottom was coloured with the same red, frilled around the top with one ribbon bows on both sides where your hips would be. At each corner, above the ribbon bows, was an identical ribbon-like strap that went from one front edge, up your hips to wrap around your waist to the adjacent edge where the back of your hip was so the two ribbon straps conjoined just below your bellybutton. 

On the side of the box, there was a headband with two reindeer antlers with a little bell at the base of each of them. 

“Isn’t it cute?” Wanda asked. “Do you like it?”

You put the box over to the side of your hip so as to not drop it so you could quickly turn and wrap your arms around your stepmother’s shoulders. “I love it, mommy!” you cheered. “Thank you, thank you! I can’t wait to wear it for you.”

Wanda laughed and hugged you back. “Oh, I knew you’d love it, angel.” She pecked your cheek repeatedly. “Ever since I bought it, I couldn’t stop thinking of you all wrapped up like a gift, and those adorable reindeer antlers… I must admit, some of the pictures I’ve sent you of myself were when I’d been thinking of you wearing that exact outfit.” 

She pulled away to speak low in your ear. “But, of course, mommy couldn’t tell you exactly what made her so wet when I sent you them. I had to keep it a surprise.”

“Do I get to wear it now, mommy?” you asked, pulling away and placing your hands on her thighs so you could lean close and plead. “Can I wear it for you now?”

“Baby, if I have to wait even another hour before seeing you with that on, I might just go absolutely mad. Please do put it on now.”

You started carefully taking the things out of the box while Wanda also took some of her own things out of her bag. She told you to get dressed and wait for her while she got changed in the washroom. 

Mommy knew you so well; you loved how the lingerie looked on you, and you thought it looked really cute. Your favourite part was the bells and the ribbons. You really looked like a gift all wrapped up. 

You wondered what else mommy planned. 

You sat at the center of the bed like mommy asked, waiting patiently for her to come out from the washroom. 

After a moment, Wanda stepped out in a lacy maroon lingerie set of her own. She had a black harness and a red strap already attached to it hanging from her hand.

Your whole body felt like it began to heat up at the sight of her body and her lingerie and how pretty and soft her skin looked, how beautiful mommy’s curves were, how nice and soft her hair looked, and the strap in her hand that was picked especially for you. 

“Oh, Y/N, look at you!” she said in awe as she looked you up and down, setting the harness on the bed and tugging a bit on your lingerie. “The sweetest Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten. You look adorable all dolled up for mommy.” She leaned down with a grin and kissed your lips.

“Mommy, you look so pretty.” You admired her in awe as she straightened and looked down at you from the side of the bed.

“You’re gonna make me blush, sweetness,” she gushed, taking your chin into her hands and brushing the pad of her thumb against your bottom lip.

She stepped into the harness then turned so you’d be able to have access to where it had to be fastened. “Won’t you fasten it together for me?”

You nodded immediately then got onto your knees and leaned down to fasten her harness. Wanda watched as your back arched and your ass moved up slightly in the air. She felt her clit throb seeing you in your adorable little outfit all focused on helping mommy. 

“That’s a good girl,” she said once you finished. Wanda climbed onto the bed and took a seat beside you. She wrapped an arm around your hips and pulled you close. 

“Why don’t you make me happy and take mommy’s cock in your mouth?” she proposed, brushing her nose against your cheek. “I want to see my pretty girl’s mouth full of mommy’s cock.” 

Excitedly, you moved onto your knees and positioned yourself closer to her hips as Wanda rubbed your back soothingly. 

“Let me take this off of you for just a little,” she said, carefully removing your reindeer ear headband. Its bells jingled slightly as she set it down on the side table. She leaned forward and kissed the top of your head before sitting back against the headboard.

On your knees and leaning down to suck Wanda off with her hand resting on your lower back, you licked up Wanda’s cock, making eye contact with her as she looked down at you affectionately. You broke eye contact to spit down on her tip, before using your hand to gently jerk her off and lather it in your saliva.

With the way your stepmother kept warmly rubbing your back only encouraged you further, and you became rather impatient, excited to take her cock into your mouth. You looked up at her briefly, to which Wanda was still looking down at you attentively with her warm gaze, and you finally wrapped your lips around her cock and carefully bobbed your head down.

“That’s right, honey,” she urged gently, her hand moving up your back to rest against the back of your neck. “Deeper, if you can. I’d like to hear my cock in your pretty throat.”

You uttered something unintelligible as you kept Wanda’s cock in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, each time you went down slowly taking more and more of her into your mouth. 

“Oh, that’s it, sweetheart,” Wanda cooed as your lips finally reached the base of her cock, drool dripping down the sides of your mouth. She listened as you steadied your breaths as you took her cock down your throat. Her hand came to the back of your head, her fingers gently weaving through your hair.

To please her even more, you began moving your head again, and this time, taking her whole cock into your mouth each time you bobbed your head down. 

Wanda audibly moaned when you began softly gagging around her strap, your eyes shutting as tears began forming with the way her cock was entering your throat repeatedly. She never forced your head down, her hand only gently guiding you and massaging the back of your head and playing with your hair, but your desire to please her was so great that you were thoroughly enjoying having your throat fucked by her cock.

Though she wasn’t one for aggressive sex nor was she one for throatfucking, the throbbing of Wanda’s clit as she watched you gag and drool around her cock was too great a pleasure to refrain from jerking her hips up just a little — just to feel a little of the base of the strap rub against her cunt. She shut her eyes when she felt the slightest bit of friction against her clit and Wanda laid her head back against the headboard. 

“Okay, that’s all, baby,” Wanda said, now feeling rather eager to move on and fuck you with how desperate she was feeling now. She leaned forward and cupped your face with her hands, wiping your saliva from around your lips and from your chin. Then she kissed you tenderly, stroking your cheeks with her thumbs. “You did such a good job, my good girl. I love seeing my beautiful angel trying her very best to make mommy happy.”

“Are you happy, mama?” you asked, laying your hands flat on the bed and looking at her curiously. 

“I’m very happy, Y/N,” Wanda answered with a soft smile. “I’m so happy to be here with you.” She turned you around and repositioned the both of you so you were on all fours. “Stay here for a moment.”

Wanda moved over to the side and stepped off of the bed. You heard her rustling around through her bag and then her getting back onto the bed, sitting beside you. You sat back on your heels and looked at what was in her hands. “Honey, I might have lied — I have one more surprise for you.”

In her hands was a pretty red collar with a bell at its center, along with a black leather leash to match. You immediately felt your cheeks flush and your thighs press together; you had never been collared by Wanda before, and the image of her tugging you by a leash excited you immensely.

“Does this look alright to you, sweetheart?” Wanda asked gently, moving to you closer and stroking the back of your hand with her fingers. “I know we’ve never done anything like it before, but I thought it might be cute — treating you like my sweet puppy with a collar and leash. But if it’s too much for you, we don’t have to use it. It’s purely experimental, and I bought it only out of curiosity, so don’t be afraid to tell me no, okay?”

“I want to try it, mama,” you told her honestly, holding the leash in your hands and feeling the soft leather with your fingers. “But not very tight on my neck.”

Wanda kissed your forehead. “Alright. I’ll put it on now, and tell me how you like it.” She undid the collar and wrapped it around your neck. She kept checking in with you as she tightened it, making sure it was just right for how you wanted it. Then she tugged on it with the leash, also making sure it wasn’t too harsh on your neck.

When it was on comfortably, it made you giggle a little because the little bell jingled every time you moved. 

That made Wanda laugh too; she thought you looked so cute. Then she put your reindeer antler headband back on and kissed your forehead.

Wanda was on her knees behind you, and you returned to your position on all fours. With the leash circled around her knuckles, she tugged on it and your neck was pulled back slightly. “How does that feel, honey?” she asked. She tugged again, a bit harder this time, so you knew exactly how rough it could feel in the case that you might want to change your mind.

You squeezed your thighs together and repressed a moan. 

God, how could you describe how it felt to have Wanda pull you by a leash? You couldn’t think of anything sexier than being on all fours in a cute outfit she chose for you, fucking you with her cock and tugging you by a leash while you were wearing a collar she also chose specially for you. “That feels good, mama,” you replied, hanging your head and whimpering.

“Does it now?” Intrigued by your response, Wanda tugged harder, watching closely for your reaction as she pulled you all the way up so your back was pressed against her body. Her hand came to your neck and you whimpered. “That feels good, hm?” she asked with a smirk, her lips ghosting over your collar and up to your ear. 

You squeezed your eyes shut and swallowed. “Th-That does feel good, mama…” you replied.

“Remember, you can tell me to stop whenever you need, pumpkin. It’s been some time since we’ve had sex, and we’ve never used a collar and leash before,” Wanda reminded you gently. She used her free hand to stroke your hip with her thumb. “Like always, it’s okay to need to take a break to feel the need to stop — even if we’d been having sex regularly, and even if you do enjoy the leash.”

You nodded. “I know, Wanda,” you answered. “Thank you. I know I’m always safe with you.”

Wanda smiled. She craned her head forward over your shoulder and kissed your cheek. “That’s right, angel. Always,” she said. Her hand moved up your back and gently pushed you forward until you were back on all fours. She pushed her hips against your ass and you could feel her strap press against your clothed cunt.

With her leash still wrapped around her knuckles, she placed both hands on your hips and began slowly thrusting her cock against your clothed pussy. The collar and the leash’s tautness wouldn’t let you loll your head forward, and so you were forced to whimper out unabashedly as Wanda’s cock prodded at your clit.

“You look so adorable, honey.” Wanda rubbed her palm in circles against your ass. She delivered a soft spank to your ass and giggled when your body jerked in response. 

Driven by the thrill of seeing her pretty doll all sensitive, Wanda tugged on your leash and spanked you again. She tugged on your leash again in a quick jerking motion to make the bell on your collar jingle.

Wanda pulled her hips back a little and took her cock into her hands, prodding directly at your clothed hole and twitching her hips forward to apply pressure. “You’d come if all I did was keep going like this, wouldn’t you?” she inquired with a terrifying amount of curiosity. 

“I… M-Maybe…” you stuttered. It was true — you were really that sensitive to your stepmother. 

You supposed, paired with the clothed fucking, that she’d only have to utter a few dirty words and deliver a few spanks in order for her to bring you to orgasm. 

With that knowledge of her power over you, there was no telling what kinds of teasing mommy would feel like putting you through. 

“Maybe?” Wanda repeated, clearly still preoccupied with watching the way her strap pressed against your cunt. She slowly slid its tip down and applied pressure to your clit. “Shall we see how fast it takes?”

Your stomach dropped and you immediately protested. “No, mama! Please, I want… inside. I want you, mommy,” you pleaded.

Wanda didn’t respond for a bit of time. She put her hands on your hips and slowly began thrusting her cock against your cunt, watching as it slit down your clothed slit and brushed against your throbbing clit each time her hips moved forward and she pulled your ass back. 

You hung your head as you moaned out softly, but also because you felt some defeat for what seemed like Wanda being determined to get you off with your clothes still on. 

Your leash was tugged back and your head was forced to position itself upright. 

“Where’s my little girl’s enthusiasm now, hm?” Wanda tipped her head to the side to get a look at your expression. “You’ve always been such a sore loser, baby.”

At the sight of your protruding bottom lip, Wanda added, “Oh, don’t pout now, angel.” She rubbed your ass soothingly. “You want mommy to fuck you? Is that what you want?” She leaned forward, her cock slotting itself right in the slit of your cunt and against your clit, and tugged your leash back so she could look at you better. 

“That’s what I want, mama,” you answered obediently. Your stepmother loved when you begged for her. “Please, mommy. Please fuck me.”

With a pleased smile, Wanda used the hand with your leash around her knuckles and pulled your head back by your hair. She leaned forward further and pressed a kiss to your neck and then your shoulder. “I’ll fuck you good,” she obliged, her voice low and vaguely threatening. “Don’t you worry, princess.”

While she rubbed your lower back with her warm palm, Wanda slowly pulled your underwear off. You heard her coo in amusement, “Honey, you’re the first Christmas gift I’ve opened all season.” She pulled it down your thighs and you felt your cunt part from its sticky confines. “And I have to say, I’m rather pleased.”

You felt her move backwards and her hands were placed on both sides of your ass. She ran her tongue through your cunt and audibly moaned, her fingers moving down to your hips and pulling you against her face.

The warmth of her tongue and the coolness of her face against your swollen, desperate pussy felt incredible. You let out a long moan and grasped at the bedsheets. Her tongue explored your soft cunt lips, tracing through your labia and moving gently over your throbbing clit. She dipped into your opening and groaned at the flavor of where you tasted the sweetest. 

Greedily, her lips wrapped around you and sucked, her tongue flattening to taste as much of you as she could. When your moans became breathless and more restrained, Wanda pulled away against her own urges of gluttony, but not before lapping up around your inner thighs and around your cunt. 

“I missed tasting you,” Wanda told you and completely removed your underwear from around your knees and tossed it aside onto the bed. 

“Mommy…” you uttered quietly, feeling your cheeks flush. 

Wanda reached back, where she had placed down a bottle of lube that she’d brought with the harness. She lathered enough onto her cock and laid it down where your panties were. Then she tightened her grip on your leash again. “Are you ready, baby?”

You nodded, nearly about to cry from how pent up you were feeling. “I’m ready.”

With a hand around your cock and the other around your hip to keep you steady, Wanda slipped her tip past your opening then steadily pushed herself inside of you. She watched as your cunt wrapped around her cock, your body jerking forward slightly as you adjusted to her size.

“How often do you masturbate, my love?”

Struggling to reply as you braced the entrance of Wanda’s cock, you uttered, “Only the times when I send you pictures and videos of myself, mama.”

“Only then? You never touch yourself without letting me know?”

“Never.”

“That’s good,” Wanda cooed and rubbed your lower back. From the last time you sent a video of yourself, that meant that the last time you’d touched yourself was about a week and a half ago. She would deep in mind how sensitive you were.

A sigh was released from her as her hips finally met your ass. Her hand rounded your hips and she pressed her fingers against your lower stomach. “Do you feel that, angel?” she asked. “Mommy’s all in now. You did such a good job.”

Tightening her hold on your leash by wrapping it once more around her knuckles, Wanda put both hands on your hips and began pulling you back onto her hips. The tautness of the leash made it so you maintained the arch in your back, and so all your moans and adorable little noises were released out loud so Wanda could hear them. 

“Ah, fuck,” she mumbled. “You’re so adorable, my angel.”

Watching your ass as she pulled you against her hips drove Wanda slightly mad with desire, and she began to thrust her hips forward, your bodies meeting with a greater amount of force. Then Wanda placed a hand on your upper back and pushed you down so you were on your elbows. Her thrusts quickened and Wanda delivered a spank to your ass, making you yelp. 

“Tell mommy how much you love getting your cunt fucked by her cock,” she demanded, tugging on your leash and grinning as she listened to how difficult it was for you to speak with how harshly she was thrusting against your ass.

“Mama, I- ” Your words were cut short when Wanda tugged you by your leash so your face was away from the pillow in front of you and you could speak properly. “I love when mommy fucks me with her cock,” you drolled out between moans. “I’m… mommy’s needy cockslut.”

Your wording awakened something within your stepmother and her fingernails dug into your hips. She slid out of you and turned you around. She repositioned the both of you so she was laying down, one elbow holding herself up. With your leash around her knuckles, she tugged you forward as if you were a dog so you had to crawl up her legs and up her body.

It made your whole body thrum with a warm heat as you watched how Wanda looked at you, with unabashed hungry desire — and all for you. She placed her hands on your hips and had you sit on her cock, your thighs straddling her hips and your hands on your knees. She smiled at your strained little face as you took her thick cock into you again.

“I would like to see you without this now.” Wanda reached up and you leaned forward to allow her to reach your torso. She undid your bra and wrapped her arms around your waist, bringing you forward to allow her to wrap her lips around one of your nipples. 

Her warm hands moved up the smooth curve of your back as she kissed your breasts and then up to your neck. She straightened you back up and sat herself up so she could reach back and unclip her own bra. 

A hand came to the back of your head and she led you towards her breasts, and you wrapped your lips around one of her nipples. A soft, relieved sigh escaped from your stepmother’s lips and she laid down flat against the bed. 

As you suckled from Wanda, she placed her hands on your hips and began moving you up and down along her cock, guiding you into riding her. Your warm exhales warmed her breasts and hardened her nipples and she brought you closer. “Always so gentle with mommy,” she said and kissed the top of your head.

Gently, she straightened you up again and made you part from her breasts. “I want to see you ride, Y/N,” she told you and placed her hands on your hips. “Come on, baby. Make mommy happy. Let me see my little girl come.” She let go of your leash and let you ride her freely, at times pulling you down onto her hips harshly when she wanted to see you yelp — which she quite frequently did.

“That’s right,” she encouraged. Her eyes shut in pleasure as the rolling of your hips ground the base of Wanda’s strap against her clit. When shopping for which toys to use with you, Wanda had been curious about a different kind of harness that was positioned a bit lower than what was typical, so it allowed for more stimulation against the wearer’s clit. She was rather pleased with how well it was working for her.

Her hands worked at keeping your hips rolling forward, and even you seemed to be reaching closer and closer to orgasm, resulting in your speed quickening and with greater force as you came back down and met her hips.

“M-Mama…” you moaned out. “I’m gonna come.”

“It’s alright, baby,” she permitted. “Come for mommy. Let me see my good girl. Come here.” She moved her hands up your sides and wrapped her arms around your waist as she pulled you down and rolled on top of you. Her hand cupped the side of your face and she thrusted into you as you laid on your back, your thighs tightening around her. 

Wanda’s forehead laid against yours as she moaned, her hips thrusting in a slightly upwards movement as well as forward so she was able to rub herself against the base of her strap. You watched with your eyes half-open as mommy seemed to inch closer to her own orgasm. 

Your arms wrapped around her waist and Wanda grasped as the side of your ass, pulling you up against her desperately as she sought the pleasure of fucking you at the same time as grinding her sensitive clit against her strap. Her hips quickened and your moans meshed together in time with the slapping of skin below your sweaty bodies.

Naturally, with how sensitive she had built you up to be from the moment she began, you came first. Wanda raised her head to watch as you came for her, and she stroked your cheekbone with her thumb supportively, whispering out gently, “That’s right, honey. Come for mommy. Let it all out. I’m here.”

Wanda came second, just in time before her thrusting would have become overstimulating for you. She buried her face in your neck and you wrapped your arms around her warm body. Her shampoo smelled so good, and the way she moaned against your skin sent her warm breath down your clavicle and brushed her soft lips against your neck.

You loved when mommy came like this — all close to you so you could hug her and make her feel cared for just like she always did for you.

“Mommy, are you okay?” you asked when Wanda came down from her climax and was gently panting against your neck. You felt her nod and she tightened her arm’s hold around your waist.

“I’m feeling perfectly fine, my angel.” She pressed kisses to your jawline and up to the lobe of your ear as she slipped from your body and brought you against her body. “I feel happy.”

With her other hand, she undid her harness and lifted her hip from the bed so she could slip it off of her body and place it where the rest of your lingerie and the bottle of lube were laying. Then, she took your headband off and your collar too.

When the two of you had been cuddling together laying together, warm under the bed’s blankets and talking about how much you’d been enjoying your time together so far, you lifted yourself onto your elbow. “Wanda, I brought a gift for you,” you said, proudly and with a smile. “I want you to open it early, while it’s just the two of us.”

Wanda smiled at you and ran her hand up and down your side. “Do you? Shall I close my eyes while you get it?”

You nodded and Wanda smirked at how adorable you looked when you were excited. Then she closed her eyes and sat up a bit against the pillow and the headboard, the blankets wrapped around her body comfortably. 

She listened as you stepped off of the bed and went through your bag. She heard the crinkling of some wrapping paper as you took the gift from your back and lept back into bed, making Wanda laugh as you hurriedly tucked yourself back under the sheets with her — but she kept her eyes closed like she promised. 

“Okay, open your eyes now,” you said and laid the gift down in her lap. 

The wrapped gift was a rectangular shape wrapped in light pink wrapping paper patterned with gingerbread houses and tiny gingerbread men, with a glittering silver bow wrapped around the gift. Beneath it, was a thin cardboard gift tag that wrote: ‘For Wanda.’

Wanda smiled warmly at the sight of it, and she smiled and scooted herself close to you so your bodies were pressed against each other. She rested her head on your shoulder and began opening the gift. 

What was beneath the wrapping paper was revealed to be a book, and when Wanda fully opened it to see what it was, she felt herself melt completely. “Y/N…” she whispered quietly, running her eyes down the details of the book’s cover and its perfect preservation. 

“It’s a first edition copy,” you told her, carefully opening the cover and pointing to the print date of 1950. 

Many months ago, Wanda told you of how she often had to move around with her family, often displaced by the war in Sokovia, and unable to secure permanent housing due to her family’s financial situation. During the many moves, her family was often forced to leave a majority of their things behind, especially once they found a route to America. 

One of the things Wanda had lost was her copy of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, her very favorite book during her childhood. At home, she had a small statue on the living room bookshelf of a lion that reminded her of the book, but other than that, she’d never bought herself another copy.

It wouldn’t be the same, she told you, if she bought the book for herself in order to replace the old one, for it had been a gift from her late parents when she was young. 

“Y/N, thank you,” she said, setting the book down on her lap and wrapping her arms around you, hugging you tightly. “You really have no idea how much this means to me. This is such a special gift.” She sounded tearful as she spoke against the side of your head. 

“I love you, Wanda.”

She pulled away and quickly swiped at her eyes to kiss you. “I love you so much, Y/N,” she spoke against your lips and kissed you again, and again against your cheek and then against your temple and your forehead. “I love you so, so much.”

It’d been so long since Wanda immigrated to America. Her parents had passed years ago and though she often spoke with Pietro, she saw him most commonly during the holidays and sometimes during the summers. As such, sometimes Wanda forgot parts of even her own life — parts of herself. 

It wasn’t at all that she forgot about her childhood and her life before America, but more so that as life went on and as she grew and aged, she thought less and less about such things in the past.

She cried after she received the gift while you comforted her, and she told you how much she missed her parents and how she felt guilty for not having thought of them and Sokovia for some time. 

“Can you read the book to me, Wanda?” you asked once Wanda had stopped crying, but was still laying her head against your chest. She looked at you and smiled when you met her eyes in affirmation.

For the rest of the night, you laid in bed with Wanda, your head on her shoulder as she read the book to you. She had only ever read it in Sokovian, and she kept mentioning things about the English translation and how it was interesting how things were worded differently between the two languages. She recalled memories of her family and of Sokovia as she went through the chapters — when her parents had read the book to her and how she would be read to while laying in bed with Pietro before bed, and anything else that came to mind as she spoke of her childhood and her family. 

You could tell how happy it made her to recall all those things, and also, how happy it made her that she was reading the book to you. 

There was something really special about recalling and reawakening such memories with you; it was true that she couldn’t ever revisit the past nor speak with her parents again, but it was something rather special to share all of this with you. She couldn’t get it back, but she could keep it all alive, and that could truly only be done if shared with someone she loved. 

With the gentle flakes of snow falling outside the hotel window, illuminated by the warm light of the nightstand by the bed and contrasted by the dark moonlit skies of the evening, Wanda spent that night sharing with you what she shared with no one else — what she would never share with anyone else. 

To share such precious memories with you was to make them all eternal. It could only be you, after all. 

Wanda had forgotten important parts of herself, only to find them within you. Love has a unique ability to do that — giving you a map of yourself, and a home within another.

[halalgirlmeg]

🚨🚨🚨EXTREMELY URGENT DO NOT SCROLL🚨🚨🚨

This campaign has stagnated and things are getting worse, it has not reached its halfway point at all and Shimaa is wanting to reach this goal by the 20th of this month. That is in TEN DAYS from this post (on 12/10/2024) to reach the goal by the exact date there needs to be about $20 sent each day in order to reach the goal by December 20th. Shimaa and her family live in a tent in Gaza, that is barely any protection from the elements and we are approaching winter, the weather is freezing, they need money in order for all of them to have blankets. I cannot stress enough how urgent this is. I don't want to make Shimaa wait a long time for things that she and her family needs, I hate telling her that no one has sent anything in days, and I can add more to the campaign sometime at a later date before the 20th. So if one person can send 20 a day up until the twentieth that could work, or 2 people donate 10, or 4 people donate 5. But it can only work with help from multiple people and the help has to keep coming. It's not a one and done situation. Please also remember the gfm has frozen currently those funds are not accesible the moment and the PayPal is the primary campaign right now. So don't ignore don't scroll, you see this reblog it, if you have a couple dollars to spare share it. I don't want to let Shimaa and her family down I want to help them in anyway I can. You can also go through @im-smart-i-swear as they are also offering commissions in exchange for your donations.

Tagging for reach: @dyspunktional-leviathan @khanger @wellwaterhysteria @orchres @saifess @wormdream @capricornpropaganda @rhubarbspring @butchniqabi @bahrmp3 @darthteeth @biranian @cakeicecreamandicecreamcake @aishaisalittlebitobsessive @iaintyourstosave @bilqisaaliyah

[space-cowgirllll]

Right Where You Left Me

a/n: I was going to wait to post this but I had written a lot more than I thought the last time I touched this. A little lengthy bc I’m a yapper but here's part two of Tolerate It. I'M SORRYYYYY 🥹

The flurries Abby had seen as she walked into work this morning quickly turned into actual snowfall. Twelve hours later, everything around her is covered in a thick blanket of white snow. Traffic had been worse than usual, making her already shitty commute twice as long. A breath she hadn't realized she was holding leaves her when she finally pulls up to the curb in front of her home. She's safe. Forcing her frozen fingers to uncurl from the death grip she had on the steering wheel, she parks the car, cursing when she feels it slide just a little. She was due for a tropical vacation soon. 

Despite her disdain for the snow, Abby can admit the quaint neighborhood looks beautiful. Thousands of multicolored lights adorn the houses and yards around her. Laughter from the kids having a snowball fight across the street fills the night air. Their giggles make Abby's heart feel a little lighter. A couple of her neighbors have their curtains drawn, displaying their immaculately decorated trees. It reminds her of those cheesy hallmark movies she secretly loves watching. 

Abby cringes when she realizes her house is the only dark one on the street. In her mind she can see the purple Post-It still stuck to the fridge reminding her to pull the outdoor decor down from the attic and actually decorate. The red plastic tubs have been sitting at the top of the steps for weeks. She trips over them constantly, telling herself she'll get to them tomorrow, but it seems there were just never enough hours in the day. Eighty hour work weeks left little room for anything else- not that she had much going on. If she wasn't at the gym, or catching up on some much needed sleep, she was at the hospital. 

Her head hits the steering wheel in defeat when she taps the screen on her phone and catches sight of the date. It's the twentieth of December.  

"Too late to do anything about it now." She mumbles to herself. Her palms dig into her tired eyes. Today was truly the day from hell.

But the universe doesn't seem to be quite done with her just yet. Over the hum of her ac blowing she hears a familiar tune. Her head snaps to the radio in recognition. Her usual radio station has switched over to playing nothing but Christmas music for the night. It's your favorite song. Shit. Her shaky index finger blindly reaches for the button to kill the engine before throwing the door open, jacket forgotten in the passenger seat. 

She shivers as she speed walks to her front door trying her hardest not to slip on the icy sidewalk. The straps of her work bags dig painfully into her right shoulder when she bends down to collect the multiple packages that had accumulated on her porch. After days of ignoring them, they were starting to block the doorway. But hey, at least this year she had gotten ahead on Christmas shopping. 

These days it was all about the small wins. —

Abby drops the mattress she dragged out of the guest room in front of the fireplace with soft grunt. She hasn't done this in years, but she needs it today. This had been one of your favorite ways to unwind after a long week. Always there waiting for her with a big smile and her favorite snacks, a movie waiting to be played on the tv. In the later months of the year, around the holidays, Abby could always count on finding a pair of pajamas for her that matched yours laid out on your shared bed. She had always thought it was kind of silly when you had a perfectly good bed and tv upstairs. Now, she could only dream of coming home after a long day to a warm house and you bundled up in blankets waiting up for her.

It's quiet as she stares out the window watching snow fall. Her head is fuzzy from the wine and she knows she's going to regret it tomorrow. The movie she randomly picked half an hour ago is now muted. She can hear the distant buzzing of her personal phone from somewhere in the kitchen, but she can't be bothered. Calls from her family trying to confirm next weeks plans go ignored. Abby loves them, but the thought of being asked if she was ready to start dating again before trying to set her up with the friend of a friend for the fifth year in a row made her want to cancel her flight home. She can't stand the pity in their eyes every time they look at her.

Bleary eyes roam around the room, the sight of  the unlit, half-decorated tree in the corner and the lone stocking missing its pair hanging off the mantle make her chest hurt in a way it hadn't in a while. It may not look like it, but she had tried. Most of the Christmas stuff actually made it out of the attic this year. Which is more than she can say for last year, and the years before that.  She'd finally gotten the tree out and decorating had been going well, until she pulled out that ornament. 

The little house you had custom made to look like a tiny replica of the first place the two of you were sharing as a married couple. Abby remembers how excited you'd been, staying up waiting for her to come home from a late night so you could open it together. The look in your eyes as you traced over the details, the names stamped on the back. You made her hold it as you hooked it onto the tree, wanting to do it together.

Her fingers trace over the pink floral pattern on the sheets. You'd picked these out, excited to host her parents over the thanksgiving holiday for the fist time. Abby didn't have the heart to change them out. Minus your personal things, she didn't have the heart to make any changes to your original decor. You'd made the house a home. Some nights she swears she can catch a whiff of your favorite candle, or the lavender spray you'd douse the pillows with before going to bed. 

Abby gives up, shutting the tv off and settling into her pillow, ready for today to be over. She can't help but feel silly laying here in the dark by herself. Nights like this had been more fun with you around. Everything in her life had been more fun with you around. 

You made Abby's life magical, she just hadn't realized it until it was too late.  ---------------------------

Abby watches you push your food around your plate out of the corner of her eye. The scraping of the fork makes it hard to focus on the conversation happening in front of her. Would it kill you to at least try to look interested? Her hand lands on your upper thigh, squeezing lightly to get your attention. The two of you exchange subtle glares. 

It isn't until her colleagues retreat back to their own table that she finally looks at you. You're swirling the ice in your drink around with a straw. Your gaze fixed on the window, staring out at the busy street. She had thought a nice dinner at your favorite restaurant would soften you up a little, but with how little you've spoken all night and your plate still full, she's starting to worry. 

After an explosive fight the morning after she'd forgotten your wedding anniversary, you'd been distant. In all the years Abby had known you, she could count on one hand the amount of times you'd fought, and even then the two of you could never stay away for long. Communication was one of the things you prided yourself on the most, never wanting to go to bed angry at each other. But it's been three weeks and Abby realizes she's really fucked up. 

"Alright, what's going on with you?" 

"Oh, now you notice." You retort. Her eyebrows knit together, surprised at the thinly veiled anger in your voice. 

"You're so dramatic." She huffs. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

Your eyes shift to the side, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. She can practically see the gears turning in your head. You're holding your tongue. 

"Abigail, let's not do this right now." You beg. "Please."

"No. We're going to talk now." She speaks lowly, grateful for the little privacy the corner table provided. "Sitting in silence isn't going to make this go away. Stop being childish and tell me how to fix this." 

You looked her in the eye, no longer seeing the person you fell in love with. Knowing that if you stayed you'd end up losing yourself in someone who couldn't love you the way you deserved anymore. There was no way you could have the family you wanted with someone who constantly prioritized their work, making you feel like you were the distraction. 

Your lips part on a shaky exhale. You can't keep lying awake at night contemplating this. You have to do it now. From the corner of your eye you can see the couple at the table closest to you subtly lean towards you. 

Abby leans back in her seat waiting for you to speak up. Her arms folded across her chest. The way her leg bounces up and down gently shakes the table. Something about the dejected look in your eyes makes her panic inside. 

"I want a divorce."

---------

Department store wrapping stations were a small luxury Abby didn't mind spending the money on. She wasn't the best gift wrapper, often leaving rips or weird folds on anything that wasn't shaped like a box. 

She stands in line with all the other last minute shoppers, people watching when her eyes fall on the last person she thought she'd ever see again. Abby swears she must be dreaming. Her knees nearly buckle when she sees you standing there slowly making your way through a rack of baby clothes. A little boy no younger than two perched on your hip, his leg trying to sit comfortably against the small swell of your stomach. He's a carbon copy of his mother. Abby sees you wherever her eyes land on his face. 

Your hair is longer, framing your pretty face. There's a glow to you that she doesn't remember seeing in those last two years of your marriage. Your eyes are tired but bright, even from here Abby can see the way they sparkle when you stare at the little boy in your arms. Nothing like the cold way you'd looked at her that fateful night. 

Her heartbeat pounds in her ears as she steps out of line, making her way to a more secluded section of the store. Hiding behind a tie display she watches you interact with your son. For a moment she pretends that you're still hers and that the last five years didn't happen. Pretends that she didn't fuck up the best thing that had ever happened to her. God, she feels like a delusional creep. 

A tall woman walks up behind you, making a silly face at your toddler. You smile when he reaches out for her, trading the boy for the to-go cup she was holding out to you. Abby doesn't have to guess what you're drinking. She knew how much you hated coffee, preferring hot chocolate to keep you warm in the colder months. Her stomach bottoms out when you raise the cup to your lips.

A ring that isn't hers sits on your finger. 

Abby didn't realize how big of a gut punch that would feel like. While you still spoke to her parents from time to time, they made sure not to relay any information to her. She knew you wouldn't stay single forever, but actually seeing you like this ripped apart whatever was left of her heart.

You'd gone silent on social media since the split. A new and private Instagram account was all she could find one night after she'd been drinking a little too much. She'd cried herself to sleep, wanting nothing more than to be a part of your world again. 

She studies your wife, who's everything Abby isn't. Her long brown hair is pulled back in a loose bun, the pink knit beanie on her head matches the scarf currently wrapped around your neck. Dark eyes watch your face intently with a smile as you hold up a onesie to her. Abby looks down at her old college sweats and worn sneakers, nothing like the well put together outfit she's wearing. The woman even looks like she gets more than five hours of sleep each night for crying out loud. 

She looks happy. Something Abby hasn't been for a long time.

And judging by the way you're looking at her, like she hangs the stars in the sky, Abby can see how happy you are. She bites the inside of her cheek, refusing to remember what it felt like to have you look at her that way. Tears prickle in her eyes as you make your way down to the front of the store, dramatically blowing kisses at the giggling toddler being carried just a few steps ahead of you. One of your hands rubbing softly at your bump. 

Abby startles when you look back towards the men's section, eyes going straight to the tiny display she stood behind. Of course you spotted her. You lock eyes with her. There's a tiny smile on your face watching her come out of her shitty hiding spot. For a moment you two stand there just staring at each other. Abby's aware you probably look crazy to anyone watching but she can't bring herself to care. 

Those are my sweats. You mouth. Abby releases a watery chuckle she doubts you hear. She looks down, finally noticing the nail polish stain just under her knee. It's purple. Your favorite color. 

The sound of an alarm brings you both back to reality. You give her one last smile, waving as you walk out the doors and into the chilly December air. Her eyes follow you as you cross the street, until you get lost in a large crowd of people. 

Watching you walk away this time feels like a final goodbye. You’d always have a place in your heart for Abby, no longer feeling any resentment towards her. She had been too young and selfish to love you the way you deserved. She can see you've found that. And while she's happy for you, she can't help the tears that spill out once she's in the safety of her car. 

There's a bittersweet feeling in knowing that the world didn't stop spinning for you the way it did for her the day you walked out of her life. 

[marsmaximoff]

🎄; 25th of december ❄︎⋆˚⊹☃︎

content warning: fem!reader. pure fluff. many curses. reader is 20 and calls him “dym” as a short name, he calls her “love, darling and my love”. they’re dating. let me know if i missed something.

word count: 732 ❣️

author’s note: i wasn’t planning on posting anything for Christmas, but i got this idea and i had to write it. so, i apologize if the quality is not that good, as i usually spend days on my writings while this was all done on a matter of hours. also, english is my third language, so i’m sorry for the mistakes. constructive criticism is welcomed as always. thank you so much for the support on my last post, and merry christmas everybody! 🤍 happy hanukkah, kwanzaa, diwali or any other celebrations too 🫶🏻 and if you don’t celebrate anything, have a happy end of the year ✨ p.s.: god im in love with dmitri and almost no one is posting anything, i’ll probably post more of him. anyways, enjoy!! <3

the silk grazes my fingertips as i stretch my arm. i tentatively palm the bed looking for some warmth, for him. but the sheets and pillows are the only things left around me.

the screen of my phone clears up as i blink. 11:28 a.m. with a bit more of focus, the notifications slowly reveal themselves and my eyes travel through them searching for his name. nothing. he’d have texted me if something had requested his presence back at the office. although, he couldn’t have business to deal with on Christmas, right? not this soon, at least.

the pearly white snow greets me through the window making me stand up with a smile. how gorgeous. i make my way to the kitchen to grab something to drink while knotting my robe, and the shiny decor welcomes me effusively. i don’t realize at first, but a big and unfamiliar shadow catches my attention from the corner of my eye while i open the carton of juice.

“holy fuck. dym?”

our christmas tree, stunning as always, lays now almost drowned in presents. in fact, the stack is such, that i can’t even make out the floor for a good four-five steps. some light chuckles behind my back fill the room with the warmth i’ve been craving since i woke up. “beautiful, isn’t it?”

i turn around to dmitri sitting on the couch, staring at me with a huge grin. as if that number of gifts was the most normal sight in the world. “what the hell?” “you’ve had me waiting, darling. did you sleep good?” he asks affectionately.

“what are you, on your Santa Claus era?” i say looking at the presents again. he grants me that laugh that i adore so much as i try to give them a quick count, but after the twentieth, it starts to feel simply bonkers. they’re not even small ‘little treats’, oh no. there’s large boxes and bags everywhere.

“seriously, are you giving gifts to your whole fucking building? or is every one of your men getting one?”

“wrong. and. wrong” he says proudly, and once he’s in front of me, he just smiles. there are obvious love and joy in his eyes, which sends a cute fluttery feeling to my heart. “dmitri-“ his lips seal my words with a gentle kiss. “merry christmas, love”. a sparkle makes space on his gaze that could so easily compete with the star of the tree itself. wait. oh. oh. there’s no way.

his hands take mine and softly walk me towards the swimming pool of gifts. then, he sits close by and points at them with his head. “come on, darling. you’ve had me feeling all impatient”. he looks so excited. so cheerful. but i can’t help the slight guilt that takes over me. “dym, you’re crazy. tell me these are not only for me. you can’t- god do you even have an idea of how many there are?!” “40”. he doesn’t even take a single second to think about it. seriously, what the actual fuck? “two for every christmas i couldn’t spoil you in” this has to be a damn dream. “we’ve been friends since school!” i say grinning. “but we weren’t dating. so it doesn’t count. i wanted to make it special.” “you really didn’t have to” i refute. “i wanted to. please don’t make me wait anymore i need to see your reactions”. with a final glance, i turn around and grab the first one. “ohhh you’ll love that one!”

how can he be so cute? he wasn’t wrong, tho. it was a special edition of one of my favorite books. during the next hours, i go one by one, filling the room with gasps, yells, curses and many “oh my good”s and “thank you so much”s.

by the end of it, i’ve got clothes, books, headphones, plushies, a phone, jewelry, plane tickets, merchandising, signed stuff from famous people i love, and the cherry on top; a new car.

“you are mad. i love you so much but you’re mad” i say hugging him still shocked. “madly in love with you, you mean” he answers pulling back. “you liked them, then?” “loved them” he gives me another kiss, longer this time. “good. merry christmas, my love. i love you” he adds.

he can only hope i’ll love the ring just as much.

[fatehbaz]

About the entanglement of "science" and Empire. About geographic imaginaries. About how Empire appeals to and encourages children to participate in these scripts.

Was checking out this recent thing, from scavengedluxury's beloved series of posts looking at the archive of the Budapest Municipal Photography Company.

The caption reads: "Toys and board games, 1940."

And I think the text on the game-box in the back says something like "the whole world is yours", maybe?

(The use of appeals to science/progress in imperial narratives probably already well-known to many, especially for those familiar with Victorian era, Edwardian era, Gilded Age, early twentieth century, etc., in US and Europe.)

And was struck, because I had also recently gone looking through nemfrog's posts about the often-strange imagery of children's material in late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century US/Europe. And was disturbed/intrigued by this thing:

Caption here reads: "Game Board. Walter Mittelholzer's flight over Africa. [...] 1931. Commemorative game board map of Africa for a promotional game published for the N*stle Company, for tracking the trip of Walter Mittelholzer across Africa, the first pilot to fly a north-south route."

Hmm.

"Africa is for your consumption and pleasure! A special game celebrating German achievement, brought to you by the N*stle Company!"

1930s-era German national aspirations in Africa. A company which, in the preceding decade, had shifted focus to expand its cacao production (which would be dependent on tropical plantations). Adventure, excitement, knowledge, science, engineering prowess, etc. For kids!

Another, from a couple decades earlier, this time British.

Caption reads: "The "World's globe circler." A game board based on Nellie Bly's travels. 1890." At center, a trumpet, and a proclamation: "ALL RECORDS BROKEN".

Same year that the United States "closed the frontier" and conquered "the Wild West" (the massacre at Wounded Knee happened in December 1890). A couple years later, the US annexed Hawai'i; by decade's end, the US military was in both Cuba and the Philippines. The Scramble for Africa was taking place. At the time, Britain especially already had a culture of "travel writing" or "travel fiction" or whatever we want to call it, wherein domestic residents of the metropole back home could read about travel, tourism, expeditions, adventures, etc. on the peripheries of the Empire. Concurrent with the advent of popular novels, magazines, mass-market print media, etc. Intrepid explorers rescuing Indigenous peoples from their own backwardness. Many tales of exotic allure set in South Asia. Heroic white hunters taking down scary tigers. Elegant Englishwomen sipping tea in the shade of an umbrella, giggling at the elephants, the local customs, the strange sights. Orientalism, tropicality, othering.

I'd lately been looking at a lot of work on race/racism and imperative-of-empire in British scientific and pop-sci literature, especially involving South and Southeast Asia. (From scholars like Varun Sharma, Rohan Deb Roy, Ezra Rashkow, Jonathan Saha, Pratik Chakrabarti.) But I'd also lately been looking at Mashid Mayar's work, which I think closely suits this kinda thing with the board games. Some of her publications:

"From Tools to Toys: American Dissected Maps and Geographic Knowledge at the Turn of the Twentieth Century". In: Knowledge Landscapes North America, edited by Kloeckner et al., 2016.

"What on Earth! Slated Globes, School Geography and Imperial Pedagogy". European Journal of American Studies 16, number 3, Summer 2020.

Citizens and Rulers of the World: The American Child and the Cartographic Pedagogies of Empire, 2022.

Discussing her book, Mayar was interviewed by LA Review of Books in 2022. She says:

[Quote.] Growing up at the turn of the 20th century, for many American children, also meant learning to view the world through the lens of "home geography." [...] [T]hey inevitably responded to the transnational whims of an empire that had stretched its dominion across the globe [recent forays into Panama, Cuba, Hawai'i, the Philippines] [...]. [W]hite, well-to-do, literate American children [...] learned how to identify and imagine “homes” on the map of the world. [...] [T]he cognitive maps children developed, to which we have access through the scant archival records they left behind (i.e., geographical puzzles they designed and printed in juvenile periodicals) [...] mixed nativism and the logic of colonization with playful, appropriative scalar confusion, and an intimate, often unquestioned sense of belonging to the global expanse of an empire [...]. Dissected maps - that is, maps mounted on cardboard or wood and then cut into smaller pieces that children were to put back together - are a generative example of the ways imperial pedagogy [...] found its place outside formal education, in children's lives outside the classroom. [...] [W]ell before having been adopted as playthings in the United States, dissected maps had been designed to entertain and teach the children of King George III about the global spatial affairs of the British Empire. […] [J]uvenile periodicals of the time printed child-made geographical puzzles [...]. [I]t was their assumption that "(un)charted," non-American spaces (both inside and outside the national borders) sought legibility as potential homes, [...] and that, if they did not do so, they were bound to recede into ruin/"savagery," meaning that it would become the colonizers' responsibility/burden to "restore" them [...]. [E]mpires learn from and owe to childhood in their attempts at survival and growth over generations [...]. [These] "multigenerational power constellations" [...] survived, by making accessible pedagogical scripts that children of the white and wealthy could learn from and appropriate as times changed [...]. [End quote.] Source: Words of Mashid Mayar, as transcribed in an interviewed conducted and published by M. Buna. "Children's Maps of the American Empire: A Conversation with Mashid Mayar". LA Review of Books. 11 July 2022.

Some other stuff I was recently looking at, specifically about European (especially German) geographic imaginaries of globe-as-playground:

The Play World: Toys, Texts, and the Transatlantic German Childhood (Patricia Anne Simpson, 2020) /// "19th-Century Board Game Offers a Tour of the German Colonies" (Sarah Zabrodski, 2016) /// Advertising Empire: Race and Visual Culture in Imperial Germany (David Ciarlo, 2011) /// Learning Empire: Globalization and the German Quest for World Status, 1875-1919 (Erik Grimmer-Solem, 2019) /// “Ruling Africa: Science as Sovereignty in the German Colonial Empire and Its Aftermath” (Andrew Zimmerman. In: German Colonialism in a Global Age, 2014) /// "Exotic Education: Writing Empire for German Boys and Girls, 1884-1914". (Jeffrey Bowersox. In: German Colonialism and National Identity, 2017) /// Raising Germans in the Age of Empire: Youth and Colonial Culture, 1871-1914 (Jeff Bowersox, 2013) /// "[Translation:] (Educating Modernism: A Trade-Specific Portrait of the German Toy Industry in the Developing Mass-Market Society)" (Heike Hoffmann, PhD dissertation, Tubingen, 2000) /// Home and Harem: Nature, Gender, Empire, and the Cultures of Travel (Inderpal Grewal, 1996) /// "'Le rix d'Indochine' at the French Table: Representation of Food, Race and the Vietnamese in a Colonial-Era Board Game" (Elizabeth Collins, 2021) /// "The Beast in a Box: Playing with Empire in Early Nineteenth-Century Britain" (Romita Ray, 2006) /// Playing Oppression: The Legacy of Conquest and Empire in Colonialist Board Games (Mary Flanagan and Mikael Jakobsson, 2023)

[mariacallous]

Russian President Vladimir Putin has been accused of antisemitism after claiming that “ethnic Jews” are seeking to “tear apart” the Russian Orthodox Church. The Russian leader’s controversial statements, which came during his annual end-of-year press conference in Moscow on December 19, were the latest in a series of similar outbursts since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine that have either directly or indirectly targeted Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, who is Jewish.

“These are people without any beliefs, godless people. They’re ethnic Jews, but has anyone seen them in a synagogue? I don’t think so,” Putin stated during the flagship event, which is broadcast live on Russian state television and traditionally runs for hours. “These are people without kin or memory, with no roots. They don’t cherish what we cherish and what the majority of the Ukrainian people cherish as well.”

Putin’s comments came as the Ukrainian authorities seek to limit the influence of the Russian Orthodox Church in Ukraine, which is seen as closely tied to the Kremlin. Russian Orthodox Church leader Patriarch Kirill has emerged since 2022 as an outspoken supporter of the invasion, which he has sought to defend on spiritual grounds. His backing for the war has shocked many and sparked international criticism, with Pope Francis warning him not to become “Putin’s altar boy.”

Many commentators have noted the similarity between Putin’s recent attack on people “with no roots” and Stalin’s earlier Soviet era persecution of Jews as “rootless cosmopolitans.” The Kremlin leader’s comments also offered alarming echoes of Russia’s most notorious antisemitic fake, the early twentieth century Protocols of the Elders of Zion, which alleged a Jewish plot to take over the world by infiltrating and destroying Western institutions.

Putin and his Kremlin colleagues have faced multiple accusations of antisemitism since 2022 as they have sought to defend Moscow’s claims to be “denazifying” Ukraine despite the country’s popularly-elected Jewish president and its role as a prominent destination for Jewish pilgrimages. This toxic trend has included frequent attacks on Zelenskyy’s Jewish heritage. “I have a lot of Jewish friends,” Putin stated in June 2023. “They say that Zelenskyy is not Jewish, that he is a disgrace to the Jewish people. I’m not joking.”

Following these comments, the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum accused the Russian leader of repeatedly employing “antisemitic lies” to justify the invasion of Ukraine. US officials have been similarly critical. “President Zelenskyy’s Jewishness has nothing to do with the situation in Ukraine and Putin’s continued focus on this topic and “denazification” narrative is clearly intended to distract from Russia’s war of aggression against the Ukrainian people,” commented US Special Envoy to Monitor and Combat Antisemitism Deborah Lipstadt in 2023.

Similar slurs feature regularly in the Kremlin-controlled Russian state media, with leading propagandists such as Vladimir Solovyov known for questioning the authenticity of Zelenskyy’s Jewish identity. Meanwhile, during the initial months of the invasion in spring 2022, Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov responded to a question about the absurdity of “denazifying” a country with a Jewish leader by claiming that Adolf Hitler “also had Jewish blood.” Lavrov’s remarks sparked outrage and were branded “unforgivable” by Israeli officials.

Many within the Jewish community see Putin’s most recent inflammatory comments as part of a broader trend that is legitimizing antisemitic tropes and raising serious safety concerns. “This is just one example of his regime’s explicit and virulent antisemitism, which has intensified following his 2022 invasion of Ukraine,” commented Rabbi Pinchas Goldschmidt, the president of the Conference of European Rabbis and former Chief Rabbi of Moscow, who fled Russia following the attack on Ukraine after coming under pressure to publicly endorse the invasion. In December 2022, Goldschmidt warned of rising antisemitism in Putin’s Russia and advised Jews to leave the country.

Goldschmidt is now appealing to the international community to address the antisemitic rhetoric coming out of the Kremlin. “As a representative of Jewish communities across Europe, and someone who was forced to flee my home and community in Moscow, I call on Europe and the free world to unequivocally condemn President Putin’s dangerous propaganda before it spreads further,” he stated.

[lottiesgrl]

𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘆𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘁𝘀 (𝗹𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗲, 𝗻𝗮𝘁, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝘂𝗻𝗮, 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗲)

cw: n/a

𝗹𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗲

❅ lottie is one of the biggest holiday fanatics there is, and she will not shy away from it. she's preparing weeks before it's socially acceptable, however she doesn't mention it to anybody because she doesn't want to have to hear "x holiday isn't for two months" for the twentieth time

❅ however, she prefers decorating for the holidays to actually celebrating, which is mostly due to the fact that her parents are rarely every home for the holidays. she's always seen the holidays as lonely, which confuses you and fills you with sorrow. after all, she deserves to experience the holidays full of the same love and light that she always shows you

❅ this is fantastic news for you, as you have no problem practically moving into her house. the second both your parents give you permission, you're packing the biggest suitcase, preparing to spent the entire month of december living with her 

❅ HUUUGE decorator! i don't think she'd like really flashy decorations, but she definitely likes to put decorations all over the place. one perk of her being incredibly rich is you two have a practically endless bucket list of holiday decor and no budget

❅ she doesn't really care about receiving gifts, as the fact that you'd give your time to spend the holidays with her is the biggest gift she could ask for, but she will be spending far too much money when giving gifts. expect every single item you have ever expected interest in to be under that tree, whether it's $5 or $700

𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗲

❅ nat has never been a huge holiday person. similarly to lottie, she's never had a great family experience during the holidays, so it's safe to say that she's pretty bitter around the holiday season

❅ you're trying everything you can to make the holidays exciting for her. you're pulling out every stop - buying her ridiculous matching pj sets, making her help you put ornaments on your family's tree (since her family never had one), dragging her out to drive-in light displays, etc. you even manage to get her to wear a santa hat, which was a huge win in your eyes

❅ and, ok, she's starting to get the appeal. just maybe. she still has her reservations, but she's starting to open up to the concept 

❅ by far her favorite holiday tradition with you is watching absolutely godawful hallmark christmas films and mocking them relentlessly. you both absolutely drag the shit out of each and every movie you watch. she claims they're all stupid, but you've sworn you've caught her crying at one particularly emotional family scene 

❅ you try to get the two of you under a mistletoe for the entire holiday season. she's conveniently dodging all of the mistletoe you've put up around your houses, to the point that you swear she knows what she's doing. eventually you get so fed up that you sneak one into your pocket, distract her, and then when she looks back you're holding a mistletoe over your heads while puckering your lips. she scoffs but rules are rules, aren't they? 

𝘀𝗵𝗮𝘂𝗻𝗮

❅ shauna, similarly to nat, is not really a holiday person. she doesn't dislike it, necessarily, she just feels otherwise indifferent about it (especially given her short-lived catholic phase) 

❅ she is a big fan of autumn and winter - they're her favorite seasons, and she absolutely loves doing seasonal things such as drinking everything peppermint-flavored and sitting by the fireplace. it fills her with joy when you want to do these things with her 

❅ snow is beautiful to her, but only when she's inside. the second that you drag her out in the snow, she will be complaining about how cold it is (which you counter with "yeah, duh! that's the point!") despite being an avid snow hater, she'll kick ass in a snowball fight. you learned your lesson from the one time you challenged her to one and after a few minutes of complaining, she absolutely pelted your ass

❅ much more of a fan of meaningful, handmade gifts than store-bought stocking stuffers. with every gift she gets (or makes) you, she writes a letter explaining what it is and why she wanted to buy it for you. she also writes a long letter telling you how grateful she is to have you in her life, and how you've made the holidays so much more fun for her

❅ she does NOT play about ugly sweaters. she used to think they were the dumbest thing and that the whole concept didn't make much sense, but after being gifted one by you, her opinion has shifted quite a bit. if there's an ugly sweater contest, she will be in attendance, and she will be mogging everyone

𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗲

❅ oh. my. god. have you seen jackie? she is possibly the most excited person on this planet earth about the holidays. she has so much holiday cheer that it's infectuous. i mean, how can you not feel festive when she's decked from head to toe in tinsel and bows? 

❅ part of me wants to say that she's horrendous at wrapping presents, but let's be real. you'd think she belongs at santa's factory the way she wraps those damn presents. she is so particular about her wrapping paper and she will throw a fit if her bows don't match the color of the wrapping. however, the process of wrapping leaves the entire space looking like a christmas hurricane made direct contact

❅ SNOW!! ANGELS!! she does hate the cold and whines about getting her shoes wet, but that won't stop her from running out the second there's enough to make a snow angel, dragging you with her as she goes. she definitely tries to make your snow angels kiss, or at the very least, draws hearts around them in the snow

❅ the biggest snuggler. the second the temperature drops beneath 40° she will be wrapped up in your arms (and also about 5 separate fuzzy blankets) for the entire month of december and if you dare to even think about moving, she'll pout at you until you settle back into her. even if you have to get up, she'll stay wrapped in her blankets and attached to you the whole time. so what if she's holding onto you like a koala while you try and make yourself hot cocoa? 

❅ she 100% has to stop herself from getting you up at 6 am sharp on christmas morning. her parents never let her get up before 8 in the morning on christmas, so she feels giddy whenever you get up to presents at an obscenely early time, even if you're still half-asleep as you rip the wrapping off your gifts. you genuinely think you notice her look upset when you tear her wrapping off, but you could've just been imagining things

[patriottruth]

Dumb donald Chump crossed all my lines, so I told his crimes to the FBI. 'Cause Kamala needed cold hard proof, so I gave her some. Now she's got the envelope, where you think she got it from?

To report donald j. trump and all of his potential allies to the FBI for the federal crimes of 2024 election fraud:

https://tips.fbi.gov/home Choice 1: Federal Election Crime

Choice 2: Voter/Ballot Fraud/Corrupt Election Official

For the "Subject" information, choose "This subject is a business" Business Name: Electors and governors attempting to elect insurrectionist Donald J. Trump in violation of Sec3/14A

When did the crime occur? 11/05/2024

Where did the crime occur? Specific location: AL, AK, AZ, AR, FL, GA, ID, IN, IA, KS, KY, LA, ME, MI, MS, MO, MT, NE, NV, NC, ND, OH, OK, PA, SC, SD, TN, TX, UT, WV, WI, WY

How did you discover the election fraud? Donald J. Trump is an impeached, congressionally investigated, criminally indicted and prosecuted insurrectionist attempting to hold federal office in violation of Section 3 of the 14th Amendment.

What false information was provided? The lies that a U.S. national popular vote, or a ruling of the U.S. Supreme Court, could clear Donald J. Trump's insurrectionist disqualification, instead of a two-thirds vote of the House and Senate.

Did the individual receive something in exchange for their illegal voting activity? Unknown

Did the subject vote multiple times or vote when ineligible to vote? Yes

Did an election official violate a voting law? Yes

Were ballots from the election destroyed? Unknown

Were vote tallies falsified? Unknown

Was there a voting machine/tabulation/software malfunction? Unknown

Please provide a brief description of the incident: On December 17th, 2024, state electors and governors from Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Idaho, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, North Carolina, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, West Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming will be faced with the choices of engaging in fraud by an elections official or other individual, conspiracy against the United States, corruptly obstructing, influencing, and impeding an official proceeding, and conspiracy against rights by giving aid and comfort to disqualified insurrectionist Donald J. Trump in violation of Section 3 of the 14th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. State electors and governors attempting to vote for and create certificates of ascertainment to elect Donald J. Trump would be instantly disqualified from holding office per Sec3/14A, thereby rendering all their actions unlawful.

Are you reporting on behalf of yourself or someone else? Someone else

Victim Information: First Name: Kamala Middle Name: Devi Last Name: Harris Date of Birth: 10/20/1964 Phone Number: Business: (202) 456-1111 Email: vice.president@whitehouse.gov Address: 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW, Washington, DC 20500

Complainant Information: Please uncheck any fields you would prefer not to answer. You don't have to enter your personal information here if you don't want to.

Reported To Law Enforcement: Have you reported this information to another law enforcement or government agency (local, state, or federal)? No

At this point, you can click "Show All" to review your tip. Once you're satisfied with it, just click "Submit Tip" and you're good to go.

For anyone suggesting this is inaccurate, here you go (compiled from Wikipedia):

Article 2: Clause 3: Electoral College See also: Twelfth Amendment to the United States Constitution, Twentieth Amendment to the United States Constitution, Contingent election, Electoral College abolition amendment, Efforts to reform the United States Electoral College, and National Popular Vote Interstate Compact The Electors shall meet in their respective States, and vote by Ballot for two Persons, of whom one at least shall not be an Inhabitant of the same State with themselves. And they shall make a List of all the Persons voted for, and of the Number of Votes for each; which List they shall sign and certify, and transmit sealed to the Seat of the Government of the United States, directed to the President of the Senate. The President of the Senate shall, in the Presence of the Senate and House of Representatives, open all the Certificates, and the Votes shall then be counted. The Person having the greatest Number of Votes shall be the President, if such Number be a Majority of the whole Number of Electors appointed; and if there be more than one who have such Majority, and have an equal Number of Votes, then the House of Representatives shall immediately chuse [sic] by Ballot one of them for President; and if no Person have a Majority, then from the five highest on the List the said House shall in like Manner chuse [sic] the President. But in chusing [sic] the President, the Votes shall be taken by States, the Representation from each State having one Vote; A quorum for this Purpose shall consist of a Member or Members from two thirds of the States, and a Majority of all the States shall be necessary to a Choice. In every Case, after the Choice of the President, the Person having the greatest Number of Votes of the Electors shall be the Vice President. But if there should remain two or more who have equal Votes, the Senate shall chuse [sic] from them by Ballot the Vice President.

Electoral College Elector Selection Process Article II, Section 1, Clause 2 of the Constitution requires each state legislature to determine how electors for the state are to be chosen, but it disqualifies any person holding an Office of Trust or Profit under the United States, from being an elector. Under Section 3 of the Fourteenth Amendment, any person who has sworn an oath to support the United States Constitution in order to hold either a state or federal office, and later rebelled against the United States directly or by giving assistance to those doing so, is disqualified from being an elector. Congress may remove this disqualification by a two-thirds vote in each house. (Wikipedia)

Conspiracy against the United States, or conspiracy to defraud the United States, is a federal offense in the United States of America under 18 U.S.C. § 371. The statute originated under a federal law enacted in 1867 that was codified in the Revised Statutes of the United States in 1874, in a subsequent codification of federal penal statutes in 1909, and ultimately in the United States Code in 1948. The crime is that of two or more persons who conspire to commit an offense against the United States, or to defraud the United States.

Statute 18 U.S.C. § 371 provides that:

If two or more persons conspire either to commit any offense against the United States, or to defraud the United States, or any agency thereof in any manner or for any purpose, and one or more of such persons do any act to effect the object of the conspiracy, each shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than five years, or both.

Corruptly obstructing, influencing, or impeding an official proceeding is a felony under U.S. federal law. It was enacted as part of the Sarbanes–Oxley Act of 2002 in reaction to the Enron scandal, and closed a legal loophole on who could be charged with evidence tampering by defining the new crime very broadly.

This part of the Act later became known as a charge against defendants associated with the 2021 U.S. Capitol attack for attempting to obstruct that year's Electoral College vote count, as well as former President Donald Trump for broader alleged activities to obstruct the election. In June 2024, the Supreme Court ruled in Fischer v. United States that the statute could only be applied when the defendant impaired a physical document or object used in an official proceeding or attempted to do so, a higher bar for conviction than had been used in trials to that point.

Legal basis The crime is codified as 18 U.S.C. § 1512(c)(2). The relevant subsection reads:

(c) Whoever corruptly—

(1) alters, destroys, mutilates, or conceals a record, document, or other object, or attempts to do so, with the intent to impair the object's integrity or availability for use in an official proceeding; or (2) otherwise obstructs, influences, or impedes any official proceeding, or attempts to do so, shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than 20 years, or both.

The term "official proceeding" is defined in 18 U.S.C. § 1515(a)(1) to include proceedings before federal judges, Congress, federal government agencies, and regulators of insurance businesses.

Conspiracy against rights is a federal offense in the United States of America under 18 U.S.C. § 241:

If two or more persons conspire to injure, oppress, threaten, or intimidate any person […] in the free exercise or enjoyment of any right or privilege secured to him by the Constitution or laws of the United States, or because of his having so exercised the same;…

They shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than ten years, or both; and if death results from the acts committed in violation of this section or if such acts include kidnapping or an attempt to kidnap, aggravated sexual abuse or an attempt to commit aggravated sexual abuse, or an attempt to kill, they shall be fined under this title or imprisoned for any term of years or for life, or both, or may be sentenced to death.

Charges of conspiracy against rights concerning federal election offenses cover activities subverting the integrity of federal elections and do not require direct action towards an individual voter. Election conspiracies prosecuted under conspiracy against rights can be classified as either public schemes (where public officials commit a §241 violation under color of law) or private schemes (where conspirators impinge on the ability for voters to vote).

Michigan Attorney General Dana Nessel announced on July 18, 2023, that she had charged sixteen individuals with eight felony counts each, including forgery and conspiracy, alleging they had knowingly signed certificates of ascertainment falsely claiming they were "duly elected and qualified electors" for Michigan. One defendant entered into a cooperation agreement with prosecutors in October 2023 in exchange for charges against him being dropped. Nessel's office disclosed during an April 2024 court hearing that Trump, Meadows, Giuliani and Ellis were unindicted co-conspirators.

On August 1, 2023, at the request of Jack Smith and the Justice Department, a federal grand jury indicted Trump on charges of conspiracy to defraud the United States, conspiracy against rights, obstructing an official proceeding and conspiracy to obstruct an official proceeding. The indictment accused Trump of orchestrating a criminal conspiracy to subvert the 2020 election, and identified the fake electors scheme as part of the conspiracy.

On August 15, 2023, Trump and eighteen others were indicted in Georgia. The defendants, who included Trump, Giuliani, Eastman, Meadows, Chesebro, Sidney Powell, David Shafer and Shawn Still among others, were charged with a variety of offenses, many of which related to involvement in the fake electors plot. On October 20, Chesebro pleaded guilty to conspiring to file a false document and was sentenced to five years of probation; he also agreed to testify against the other defendants. Three other defendants (including Powell) also pleaded guilty to charges.

On December 6, 2023, a Clark County, Nevada, grand jury indicted six Republican party officials, including the chair of the Nevada Republican Party, on two felony charges each of submitting fraudulent documents to state and local officials.

By December 2023, 24 fake electors had been criminally charged in three states, and Chesebro was "a witness in all of the cases". However, in January 2024, the Attorney General of New Mexico stated that the fake electors couldn't be prosecuted given the laws of that state.

An Arizona grand jury named eleven alleged fake electors in an April 2024 indictment. Among those named were former Arizona Republican Party chair Kelli Ward and Tyler Bowyer, chief operating officer of Turning Point USA. Names of seven others charged were redacted from the indictment, and Trump was listed as "Unindicted Coconspirator 1". The Washington Post reported the redacted individuals were Mark Meadows, Rudy Giuliani, Jenna Ellis, John Eastman, Christina Bobb, Boris Epshteyn and Mike Roman. The Post reported that names of those indicted who were not in Arizona were redacted until they could be served with their indictments.

[majorbuckyegan]

don't you break my faded heart

stalag luft III, friends to lovers, first kiss, frottage. (17.2k)

this is my hbo war secret santa gift for @ineededacentralblog hope you enjoy <3

🎄 also on ao3 🎄

Sixty-eight days.

That was how long he'd been trapped at Stalag Luft III, although John could admit that he was already beginning to lose track of the days.

He'd thought that he was doing an okay job of keeping track, but as he laid in his bunk now, counting the marks that he had scratched into the wooden wall of the combine, the number only came to sixty-four. Usually he wouldn't have questioned it, but sixty-four days would only bring them up to the twentieth of December, and he knew that it was Christmas Eve. He couldn't help but wonder where he had lost those four days.

He supposed it didn't really matter, though. Every single day felt the same as the last; each of them blurring into a web of frustration, boredom, and misery. If he hadn't already known that tomorrow was Christmas, he never would have guessed.

The worst part about being stuck here was that there didn't seem to be any end in sight. Who knew just how much longer they'd end up being trapped here. Until the war ended? That could be years away, and the thought of being stuck here for that long made him feel sick to his stomach.

He knew that nobody particularly liked being here, but it sometimes felt as if he was the only one who truly despised it. For the most part, the rest of the guys seemed content to simply wait it out. He couldn't understand it. They were all waiting for something to happen, but he was pretty sure that they needed to make something happen; and he seemed to be the only one who felt that way.

Still, as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that any plans of escape would probably have to wait until the weather turned a little better. It was December, and they were God knows where in the middle of Germany. The temperatures at night dropped to a cold that he'd never felt before, the kind of cold that he could feel in his bones. So, with no solid plan, and with very little idea of their surroundings, he knew that it would be suicide to try and escape right now. Unfortunately, that meant resigning himself to the fact that they'd be trapped here until the Spring, at least.

Besides, every half-assed plan that he had come up with so far seemed less likely to work than the last one. Day and night, the fences were watched by eagle-eyed guards, who he knew were only itching to pull the trigger on somebody for acting out of line, and so he knew that a mad dash for the fence wouldn't result in anything other than a bullet in the head.

Over the last week or so, he had taken to going on walks around the block; looping around their combine and down as far as the end of the block, before coming back up along the side of the fence. He hadn't pushed his luck just yet, but he'd been inching closer and closer to the fence with each walk that he'd gone on, and he was pretty sure that he'd figured out the furthest point he could get before the guards in the watchtower started to get a little uneasy.

He wasn't quite desperate enough to make a run for the fence, but sometimes, he couldn't help but let himself wonder if it would really be so bad if he did? He didn't have anybody waiting for him at home, and so what did it matter, really?

Sometimes, he felt as if it would be a kinder fate than being trapped here for God knows how long.

Still, he knew that he'd never actually do it. He still had a responsibility to take care of his men, and he couldn't do that if he was buried in a shallow grave. As much as he sometimes wanted to just.. give up and let himself die, he knew that he had to stay strong for his boys; Brady, DeMarco, Crank, Murph, Hambone.

Gale. Always Gale.

Honestly, most of it was for Gale.

His boys were tough, and he knew that if they had to keep going without him, then they'd find a way to make it happen. When it came to Gale, though, he wasn't so sure, and that was maybe the main reason that he was determined to make it through this. He didn't like to place too much importance on himself, but he and Gale were.. well, honestly, he just knew that he wouldn't survive in here without Gale, and he was pretty sure that the sentiment was returned.

He tried his best not to consider the possibility that his dependency on Gale was completely one sided, because he was pretty sure it would kill him to find out that Gale didn't need him just as badly as he needed him.

He didn't think that was the case, though. When he had first been brought to the prison camp; he had staggered in on unsteady legs, his vision swimming from the pain in his head, as well as his broken ribs. He didn't remember a whole lot from that day, but one thing he did remember with startling clarity was seeing Gale at the fence, and feeling like life had been breathed back into him.

By then, he had convinced himself that Gale was dead, and so seeing Gale’s smile again was the sweetest thing he could have imagined.

He vaguely remembered Gale bringing him to the combine and fussing over him; carefully cleaning the wounds on his face, and patching him up as well as he could with their limited supplies. He hadn't spoken much, but his face had been closed off, and his touch had been careful and gentle as he had cleaned him up.

Once Gale had done all that he could do for him in that moment, they had sat in silence, until Gale had quietly admitted that he'd thought he was dead, that he'd been so scared to think that he was dead. He hadn't known what to say in return, because he wasn't used to that sort of emotion from Gale. So, he had simply taken Gale's hand to give his fingers a gentle squeeze, doing his best to convey everything he couldn't say with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

So, as awful a situation as it had been, he tried to hold onto that memory whenever he felt that Gale didn't need him, or that he'd be fine without him. They hadn't spoken much more about it, but they didn't need to. He knew exactly how Gale had felt when he'd thought that he was dead, and the last thing he wanted was to bring that on him again.

His last few days at Thorpe Abbotts, when he'd thought that Gale was dead, they'd been.. God, he didn't even want to think of it. He didn't want to let himself dwell on how empty he'd felt without Gale; how hopeless, how heartbroken.

He had always known that his feelings for Gale ran deeper than simply friendship, or admiration, or respect. He barely had words to describe just how much Gale meant to him, or how deeply he felt for him, and even though he knew it was wrong, that didn't change anything.

He was a man, he was a Major. He knew that he shouldn't have these kinds of feelings for his best friend, and yet, falling for Gale had felt like the most natural thing in the world. Realizing that he was in love with Gale hadn't felt as terrifying as he'd imagined it would, because he really couldn't pretend that it felt anything other than right.

Still, he wasn't naive enough to believe that there was a chance of his feelings being returned. Gale had Marge waiting for him at home, and he had never been shy about his plans to marry her once the war was over and they finally got to go home. He was happy for him, he really was, and so he had resigned himself to the idea of keeping his feelings to himself forever. It was fine. It was.

Gale was the closest friend he'd ever had, and so while he knew that his romantic feelings for Gale weren't returned, he did know that Gale felt their friendship just as deeply. That was enough for him, and so that was one of the main reasons that he was so determined to get through this. It was the main reason he hadn't made a run for the fence just yet.

Like he'd said earlier, today had been just another day in a long string of days that were all starting to run together. The only reason he even knew what day it was, was because it was Christmas Eve, and he knew that the idea of being stuck here over Christmas had put a lot of the guys in a bit of a sour mood. They'd always known that they wouldn't be home for Christmas, but he'd at least thought that they'd get to celebrate it in England; where it felt like an occasion worth celebrating.

It wasn't quite time for lights out yet, but he had to admit that he was feeling a little bit mopey over the whole situation. He hadn't slept great last night either, and so he was cold, he was tired, and honestly just feeling a little bit sorry for himself, and so what was the point in staying up?

Some of the other guys were still up, sat around the tiny table in the middle of the room and talking quietly amongst themselves as they played cards, and so he knew that he probably wouldn't actually get to sleep until it was lights out. He didn't mind, he knew he wouldn't actually sleep until Gale crawled into the bunk anyway, and so he didn't mind staying awake for a little while longer.

It had been a couple of weeks since they'd made the decision to start doubling up in their bunks at night. It was just too cold to sleep otherwise, and especially since the blankets they'd been given were little more than a thin, raggedy sheet. There was no point in even trying to rely on them to keep warm at night, and so the easiest thing to do was just double up with another guy and attempt to share body heat.

Any reservations that any of the other guys might have had about sharing a bunk with another man had long since faded with the freezing cold temperatures that they had to endure at night. He knew that some of them might be uncomfortable with the idea of it, but he certainly wasn't about to freeze his ass off in the middle of the night, for the sake of preserving his masculinity.

Even now, it was cold, although it wasn't quite as freezing as he knew it would be later. That kind of cold didn't usually set in until the middle of the night, and he was glad of the fact that there was usually a warmish body in his bunk to seek heat from by the time the temperature dropped.

He sighed, pulling the neck of his sweater up a little more securely around his chin to try and keep the warmth in, although he knew that it wouldn't do much good. Even the warm clothes they'd been given were thin and threadbare, and he knew that they were probably the bare minimum that they'd had to be given. Still, it was better than nothing, and so he'd take it.

He could feel the stubble on his jaw and his chin as he pulled up the neck of his sweater, and he knew that he was probably due a shave, but he couldn't find it in himself to want to bother. What was the point in trying to keep himself tidy and presentable, when he'd been wearing the same shirt for almost a week by now?

Even with the hygiene facilities in the camp, there was really only so much they could do when it came to keeping themselves clean. The water was icy cold at the best of times, and brown and muddy at the worst of times. The soap consisted of whatever they could scrape out of the trough that they used as a sink, and their razors were blunt enough that they were almost always guaranteed to cut themselves while shaving.

Of course it bothered him, how could it not? But he knew just how much Gale despised it.

The other man had always prided himself on his appearance; on looking neat, and tidy, and well put together. It broke his heart to watch Gale scratching at dirt stuck underneath his nails, or scraping his fingers through his hair in an attempt to keep it looking tidy.

He'd given Gale his last scrap of soap the other day, just so the other man would stop fussing and trying to wipe dirt off his hands that he wasn't sure was even there. It wasn't much, but Gale had smiled gratefully at him, and so he'd at least felt like he'd done something useful.

That was all he wanted, just to keep being useful to Gale, so that the other man would want to keep him around. He knew their friendship ran deeper than that, but it made him feel just a little bit better to give Gale a reason to want to keep him. He'd do whatever it took to continue being useful to Gale, even if that meant simply staying alive and not leaving Gale alone in here.

As if his thoughts were being read, he felt the thin mattress dip just behind him as Gale climbed into the bunk, and he glanced back over his shoulder at him, “Lights out already?” He asked. He hadn't taken much notice of the sounds of footsteps filling the room, too busy counting his scratches on the wall again.

Gale made a soft, affirmative noise, “Yeah, in a minute. They've started herding everyone inside.”

He just hummed quietly in response, before turning over so that he was facing Gale instead as the other man settled down.

Sleeping pressed up against Gale obviously didn't bother him, but he was relieved that it didn't seem to bother Gale either, because really, it was just about keeping warm during the night. He'd seen the way some of the other guys slept; Glen and Hambone usually slept with their backs to each other, the blanket shoved down between them, and as far apart as they could physically get. That didn't seem to be the most efficient way of sleeping in order to share body heat, but he wasn't about to start telling the other guys how they should sleep with their bunkmate.

He and Gale managed to make it work for the most part. It certainly wasn't warm, but it didn't feel quite so icy cold sometimes, and so that was enough for him. Besides, if he had his own selfish reasons for wanting to curl up close to Gale at night, then that was his own business, and Gale never needed to know about it.

Sometimes, on the really cold nights, Gale would press up close against him during the night, unconsciously seeking out warmth from him, and so he didn't feel bad about doing the same. On those nights, it was easier to pretend that they weren't trapped in this awful place. He could pretend that he was at home, in his own bed, and that Gale was with him; sharing a bed with him simply because he wanted to, not because he had to. It was a nice image to hold onto; one to get him through the worst parts of being here.

Once Gale had gotten as comfortable as he was probably going to get, he reached back over his shoulder to let down the thin sheet that they'd been using as a makeshift curtain. It wasn't much, but it kept at least some of the cold out, and it gave them some semblance of privacy. Not that there was anything that they needed privacy for, but he still appreciated it.

“You doin’ alright?” Gale asked once he'd settled back down, sliding a hand underneath the pillow, “You've been pretty quiet today.”

He just shrugged, “What's there to say?”

He knew that it was unusual for him to be as quiet as he'd been today, but like he'd just said, what was there to actually say? He was already in a bad mood because of the idea of being stuck here for Christmas, and so he didn't need to further that by sitting around talking about it.

Day in and day out, nothing had really changed since they'd gotten here, and so he didn't see the point in commenting on how cold it was, or how meagre their food rations had been, or how uneasy the guards seemed to be getting. They were conversations that they'd all had a thousand times by now, and he was actually sick of talking about it by now. He knew that Gale didn't want to hear any of his harebrained schemes for getting out of here, or any of his more morbid thoughts on their whole situation, and so he'd figured that he'd just keep his mouth shut and get on with it.

Gale nodded, and while it seemed as if he wanted to continue talking about it, he thankfully didn't push any further. He was glad, because he didn't particularly want to talk about any of it.

“Feels like it's gonna get colder tonight.” He said after a moment, biting his lip gently as he looked across at Gale.

For all of his insisting that he didn't see the point in talking about it, he hated simply laying here in silence. He obviously didn't mind it when they were actually settling down to sleep, but when he was laying here with Gale looking at him; he couldn't stand the silence. Besides, he could hear the rest of the guys still quietly talking to their bunkmates as they settled down, and so he didn't worry that they were keeping anybody awake.

“It does, yeah. Wouldn't be surprised if it freezes over.” Gale agreed quietly.

He was about to speak again, although he was cut off when there was a harsh bang at the door, followed by the sound of a guard yelling in broken English that it was time for lights out.

It didn't frighten him. The guards yelled, and they pushed them around, and they could be vicious when they wanted to be, but he wasn't intimidated by it. He knew that, if it came down to it, he could go toe-to-toe with any of them and would probably come out on top. Really, the only thing keeping him in line was the fact that they had guns and dogs. That obviously left him at a disadvantage.

He hated to see the way that Gale would flinch whenever a guard yelled, though, and the way he would always try to hide it. He didn't really understand the reason for it, because Gale was one of the toughest, strongest people he'd ever known, and so he'd been surprised to find that a bit of yelling made him so uneasy.

He did know that he'd had a rough childhood, though, and so he couldn't help but wonder if it had anything to do with that; if it dragged up memories of having to just stand there and take it while his father yelled at him.

It was just another thing that he wanted to protect Gale from, although he knew just how ridiculous a sentiment that was. Gale was a Major, just like he was. He was experienced, qualified, competent, and he was more than capable of taking care of himself. He didn't need him trying to protect him from the world. Besides, he was pretty sure that it wouldn't end well for either of them if the guards were to pick up on it. They might see Gale as a weak link, as someone to target when they wanted to make a point. That was the last thing he wanted to happen.

So, all he could do was try to protect Gale as well as he could, without making it too obvious.

He sighed as he watched Gale chewing anxiously at his lower lip as the guards outside slammed the shutters on the windows shut, “They're not coming in here, Buck.” He whispered. He couldn't promise that, but the guards had no reason to come in here when they had already herded everybody inside, and so he just hoped that he was right.

Gale just shot him a look, before dropping his gaze again, “I know that.” He muttered.

“Sorry.” He whispered.

He didn't mean to draw attention to it, but he just.. he hated seeing Gale like this. He hated seeing him anxious and uneasy, and so he only wanted to do whatever he could to make him feel a little bit better. He just wanted to help. Still, he could see that Gale was embarrassed that he'd noticed, and so he wouldn't say anything more about it.

He just wished that Gale wouldn't feel like that, though, because as far as he was concerned; there was nothing to be embarrassed about. The guards could be nasty when they felt like it, and so it was only natural that Gale would feel uneasy around them. Still, if Gale would rather he just turned a blind eye towards the whole thing, then he'd just have to do his best.

“Sweet dreams, fellas.” DeMarco said from his own bunk, over the other side of the room, “If you're all good, maybe Santa will come.” He teased, before switching off the light.

He huffed softly, before turning his attention back to Gale as the room was plunged into darkness, letting himself simply watch the other man as he finally settled down.

The guards had closed the window shutters, but there was just enough of a crack that the light from one of the watchtowers outside just about shone through into the room, and so he could still slightly make out Gale's features.

It was just enough for him to see that the other man looked tired, dark shadows underneath his eyes that he was just about to make out, even in the light of day. He knew they were there, though, even if he couldn't see them all too well.

He couldn't say he was surprised. He'd been here a little over two months, and he hadn't seen Gale let his guard down at all in that time. He knew how exhausting that had to be, and that was without the added pressure of being the person that everybody looked to.

He knew that Gale felt responsible for the rest of the guys; much like himself. He knew that he felt as if he had to be Major Cleven all of the time, and that he felt a responsibility to make sure that everybody was safe, and well, and looked after. It was a pretty big burden to shoulder, and he knew that Gale tended to put himself last a lot of the time. That was where he came in, to make sure that Gale was safe, and well, and looked after.

He knew that, lately, it had been taking its toll on him, though. As he looked at Gale, he couldn't help but wonder if he was coming down with something. They'd obviously all lost weight over the last two months, but Gale had always been slim, and so the way he had dropped the weight seemed almost unhealthy. He just hoped that wasn't the case, because they had enough to deal with without Gale being sick too. Still, he knew he couldn't do anything about it if that was the case; all he could do was try and deal with it.

“Are you doin’ alright?” He asked softly, lowering his voice to a whisper so that he wouldn't disturb the rest of the guys who were trying to sleep, “You don't look so hot.”

Gale just shrugged, a tiny, barely there lift of his shoulders, “Just tired, I guess. Been a long day.”

“Yeah.” He agreed.

He really didn't know what more there was to say about it. Gale was right, it had been a long day, and so had yesterday, and so had the day before that. Every day felt more mind-numbingly draining than the last, and he wasn't sure how much more of it he could take; how much more of it any of them could take. Even on a good day, it was hard enough to slap on a smile and try to be strong for the rest of the guys, but on a bad day; he barely wanted to get out of his bunk. On those days, he wanted to keep Gale here with him; he wanted to simply pull the sheets up over their heads and pretend that everything was different.

They lapsed back into silence then, and he was almost sure that Gale had finally settled down to sleep, until the other man sighed again, shifting slightly where he was laying, “John?”

“Mm?”

“D'you-” Gale started, before sighing again, “Does it bother you that it's Christmas tomorrow, and we're stuck here?”

He swallowed thickly, trying his best not to focus too hard on how Gale's words made him feel. Of course he hated it, but what was he supposed to do about it? So, he simply nodded, shrugging his shoulders, “Yeah, of course it does.” He admitted softly, “Never thought it was gonna be like this. I thought we were gonna spend Christmas at Thorpe Abbotts.”

“Yeah, so did I.” Gale admitted softly.

“Guess I just got cocky.” He whispered, huffing out a soft breath of laughter, “Last two B-17s in the air, and all that.”

He remembered saying that to Gale over their breakfast one morning, and when Gale had told him not to count on it, he had simply smiled, because to think otherwise seemed like such a ridiculous prospect. He had genuinely thought that he and Gale would be the last two left, and he hated with every fiber of his being that he'd been wrong about that.

Gale just smiled back at him, something soft and devastating in the tiny gesture. It made him feel like his heart was breaking, and he didn't even know why.

He really did feel for Gale, though, because as much as he hated the fact that they were going to be stuck here for Christmas, it also meant that they were going to be stuck here for Gale's birthday, two days later.

Had they still been in England, he would have made a fuss; he would have tried to get him something nice, maybe even tried to get him a birthday cake. As it stood, all he'd been able to scrounge up for him so far had been a bar of chocolate, and he was planning on giving him that for Christmas tomorrow. It wasn't much, but it was something. He had tried.

“It'll be different next Christmas.” He said softly, although he wasn't sure if he even believed that. What if they were still here? What if things just continued to get worse and worse? What if either he or Gale didn’t make it to next Christmas? He refused to let himself consider that possibility, because it was the worst thing he could imagine.

Gale nodded, although he didn't look all that convinced, “You think so?” He asked quietly.

“I know so.” He said, forcing a small smile, “You'll be back home to Marge by then, I guarantee it.”

Talking about Marge was pretty much the last thing he wanted to do right now, but Gale just looked so.. miserable. He looked tired, and cold, and sad, and all he wanted to do was make him smile. Marge was the one thing that was always guaranteed to make Gale smile, and while the reality of that broke his heart a little bit, there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it.

“Yeah, maybe.” Gale said softly.

He sighed, only just resisting the urge to reach across and touch Gale. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to do; gently brush his fingers against his cheek, cup his jaw, comb his hair back from his forehead. All he knew was that he wanted to do something to comfort Gale, and he'd always known how to do that best with his touch.

“Try and get some sleep, can't have you sleeping in on Christmas Day.” He whispered, rather than letting himself touch Gale at all. He did let himself shuffle slightly closer, though, because there was no point in Gale even being here if they weren't going to attempt to share body heat.

“Yeah, you too.” Gale said softly, “‘Night, Bucky.”

“‘Night.” He said with a small smile.

He closed his eyes as he pressed his face in against the pillow, willing himself to drop off to sleep. He was tired, but he could still feel his mind prickling with worry over Gale and how he was doing. It was silly, because he knew that, right at this moment, there was nothing to worry about. Gale was next to him, he was in one piece. Maybe he wasn't doing as well as he would have liked, but there was nothing he could do about that right now. They could talk again tomorrow.

The room was quiet, the rest of the guys slowly starting to fall asleep. He could already hear somebody snoring over in the opposite corner, although he couldn't tell if it was DeMarco or Brady. It was coming from that side of the room, anyway. He could hear the wind whistling icy cold just outside the window, and it made him want to burrow himself in against Gale's side in an attempt to keep them both warm.

Even at the best of times, it wasn't exactly easy to sleep in this place. The mattress and pillow were lumpy and uncomfortable, and like he'd said before, the thin sheet wasn't anywhere near enough to keep them warm at night. Even though doubling up to keep warm was really the only option, the bunks weren't exactly made for two full grown men, and so he was glad that he was sharing with somebody that he really didn't mind being pressed up against.

Still, in saying that, there were some nights that Gale was fidgety and restless, and that didn't help with the whole sleeping situation either.

It seemed that tonight was one of those nights. In the quiet and stillness of the room, he could hear the way Gale was fussing next to him. As much as he understood that he just couldn't let himself settle sometimes, he had to admit that it was frustrating, and he immediately felt selfish for even thinking that.

He opened his eyes again, sighing as he watched Gale scrubbing at his hands with his sleeve again, obviously trying to wipe away dirt that probably wasn't even there. He hated when he did this. It was a nervous habit that the other man had picked up whenever he was feeling stressed or anxious, and it made his heart twist painfully in his chest every time he noticed Gale doing it.

Honestly, he wasn't sure how he hadn't scrubbed his hands raw by now, because of his inability to leave them alone.

“Would you stop?” He murmured, taking Gale's hands to keep him from fidgeting, although he frowned when he noticed just how cold Gale's hands were, “Jesus, Buck. You're freezing.”

“I'm fine.” Gale mumbled, attempting to pull his hands back.

He didn't let go, though, holding both of Gale's hands between his own, “What happened to your gloves?” He asked. He was sure Gale had had a pair, although in thinking about it now, he hadn't seen them in a while.

Gale swallowed thickly, seemingly doing his best to avoid his gaze, “Traded ‘em.”

“You- Buck..” He sighed. He couldn't say he was surprised, though. Gale had always been too selfless for his own good, he'd probably traded them away for something that would help one of the other guys out; an extra ration, medicine. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if he found out that Buck had just given them away to someone that he thought had needed them more.

Gale still wasn't looking at him, though, and so he just sighed, shaking his head, “Come here.” He murmured, taking Gale's hands to slide them underneath his own sweater, pressing them to the skin of his waist. It wasn't much, but it was better than letting Gale freeze to death.

“John-” Gale started, attempting to pull his hands back from him.

“Relax, I'm just trying to warm you up a little.” He insisted. The whole reason they'd decided to share bunks in the first place was to benefit from the shared body heat. There was no point in Gale being here at all if he wasn't going to try and get some warmth from him.

He curled in slightly closer to Gale, dropping his own arm over the other man's waist to pull him in close. He and Gale had become accustomed to sharing a bunk by now, but it had never been like this. They had always settled for sharing body heat by simply being next to each other; they had never wrapped each other in any sort of embrace, they had never pressed right up against each other like this. If he was being honest, it felt a little too much like cuddling.

He had no issues with wrapping himself around Gale to keep him warm, but Gale obviously did take issue with it, if the way he tried to hold him at arm's length was anything to go by, “I'm fine, John.” He insisted.

He rolled his eyes, “You're shivering.” He pointed out, before reaching across to take his hands again, “And your hands are fucking freezing, so don't try and tell me that you're fine.”

He hated to think of Gale just laying there for the rest of the night, unable to sleep because of how cold he was. He certainly wasn't warm, but he wasn't quite as icy cold as Gale was, and so pulling Gale in tight against him was the least he could do in order to try and warm himself up. He just wasn't sure why Gale seemed to be dead set on insisting that he was fine.

Gale just sighed, turning his head away so that he wouldn't have to look at him, “You don't get it.” He murmured, sighing again, “Just.. stay over there.”

“What's goin’ on?” He asked softly.

He wasn't sure what was going on with Gale, but he really couldn't deny the prickling of hurt that ran through him at the way that Gale was trying so desperately not to be close to him.

It had never been like that between them. Right from the beginning, he and Gale had always been very physical with each other; an arm thrown around Gale's shoulder, sitting close enough that their thighs pressed together, letting himself touch Gale's jaw, his thigh, his waist. He remembered even kissing Gale on the cheek one time; when they'd been in the pub near Thorpe Abbotts and he'd been three sheets to the wind. He'd always been a very tactile person when it came to Gale, and Gale had never seemed to have a problem with it before now.

Maybe it was because of the circumstances, and where they were. Maybe Gale just didn't feel comfortable with him touching him when they were technically in a bed together. It had never crossed his mind that that might be the case, just because Gale had never seemed this uneasy with him before. It made him feel a little bit deflated.

Gale shook his head, although it was impossible to miss the way his cheeks had flushed, “Nothing. I told you, I'm fine.” He insisted.

He sighed, letting himself simply watch Gale. He had no idea what was going on, but he did know that he hated it. He knew that he wouldn't get anywhere if he were to push the issue, though. Trying to force Gale to explain what was going on would probably only have the opposite effect, and the last thing he wanted was for Gale to feel as though he had no choice but to go back to his own bunk.

“Fine.” He said softly. He didn't like it, but he wasn't sure what there was to do other than just leave it. Maybe he could try and get Gale to talk about it tomorrow; it might be easier when they weren't pressed up against each other in his bunk like this, “Just.. come here, at least. I won't touch you.” He promised.

Gale just looked at him for a moment, before dropping his gaze again as he shuffled slightly closer to him. He still wasn't touching him, but at least he wasn't trying to hold him at arm's length anymore. He was relieved, because Gale wanting so desperately to pull away from him like that had stung; as little as he liked to admit that. This still wasn't much, but hopefully Gale wouldn't be quite as cold.

“Get some sleep, Buck.” He whispered.

Gale just nodded, “Yeah, you too.”

He gave Gale a tight smile, before turning over onto his other side to face the wall. He couldn't ignore the fact that it was still bitterly cold, though, and so he simply sighed as he pressed back against Gale in an attempt to seek some warmth from him. He had promised him that he wouldn't touch him, but he'd meant that he'd keep his hands to himself, rather than trying to wrap him in his embrace. This was hardly the same thing.

He had obviously caught Gale off guard by doing so, as their bodies came into contact before Gale had a chance to move back from him. He hadn't thought much of it, because the whole reason they were sharing a bunk in the first place was to keep warm, but as he pressed back against Gale, he froze when he felt something press against his lower back, quickly realizing that Gale was hard and straining against the front of his pants.

“Wait, John, don't-” Gale hissed, putting his hands on the back of his shoulders to push him away.

He almost didn't know what he was supposed to say. As far as he was concerned, it wasn't a big deal. Gale was a man, he obviously had needs. It was nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Buck, it's.. it's okay.” He whispered.

“It's not. It's.. I shouldn't-” Gale cut himself off with a sigh, a short, frustrated noise.

He swallowed thickly as he contemplated how he was supposed to handle this, wetting his lips with his tongue before turning back over to face Gale. It was still dark in the room, but it was impossible to miss how mortified Gale looked; his cheeks flushed, and doing everything he could to avoid his gaze, “Is that why you didn't want me touching you? So I wouldn't feel that?” He asked.

“I'm not some kind of pervert, John.” Gale hissed, finally glancing back up at him, “I don't lay here every night, waiting for you to fall asleep, just so I can..” He trailed off, dropping his gaze again.

He swallowed again, trying with everything he had to not let himself think of Gale quietly jerking himself off next to him while he slept. He didn't think he'd ever get that image out of his head if he let himself think about it, and the last thing they needed here was him popping a hard-on too and making everything worse.

He suddenly understood what Gale's problem had been, though. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable with the idea of him touching him, it was that he hadn't wanted him to come too close and realize what was going on. It was that he hadn't wanted to make him uncomfortable.

That was a notion that he couldn't quite wrap his head around, though, because the idea that Gale could ever make him feel uncomfortable was just ridiculous. Especially not with something like this.

Still, he had to remind himself that he had always kept his feelings for Gale strictly to himself. Gale probably thought that he would take issue with it, and that he'd be horrified upon realizing that he was hard while they were sharing a bunk.

That really couldn't have been further from the truth, though.

“It's nothing to be embarrassed about.” He said softly, shrugging his shoulders, “It just.. it happens sometimes. We've all been there.”

It wasn't as if it was completely heard of. Even he struggled with it sometimes, and he hadn't been completely celibate since leaving the States; not like he knew Gale had been. There'd been plenty of women around when they'd been stationed at Thorpe Abbotts, and so he'd managed to get it out of his system from time to time. He knew that Gale had been nothing but faithful to Marge since they'd left home, though, and so it was no wonder really that he was feeling a little worked up.

Gale just scoffed, shaking his head, “Right.”

“It's not.” He insisted, ducking his head to try and catch Gale's eye, “I don't mind.”

“How could you not mind?” Gale asked, finally looking at him, “It's.. it's wrong, and I-”

“Gale.” He whispered, cutting him off. He didn't want to hear it, he didn't want to hear Gale insist that it was bad, or that it was dirty, or that there was something wrong with him for it; not when that couldn't be further from how he felt about the whole situation. So, heart hammering in his chest, he pressed his leg forward to let his knee gently slide against Gale's crotch, “I said I don't mind.”

He certainly hadn't planned this, but Gale seemed to be on the verge of freaking out and just going back to his own bunk, so that he wouldn't have to deal with this. Like he'd just said, though, he didn't mind. Not in the slightest.

He really had no idea how this was going to go. Gale hadn't pushed him away yet, but that didn't mean that he wasn't about to. For maybe the first time in his life, he found himself completely unable to decipher the expression on Gale's face, and it was slightly terrifying, because he had no idea if he had just ruined this whole thing.

“John..” Gale eventually whispered, his gaze dropping to where his knee was still pressed against him, before looking back up at him.

“Tell me to stop, and I'll stop.” He breathed, letting his leg press forward a little more until he could slide his thigh against Gale's hard cock. It wasn't much, but he knew that even the slight friction would feel good.

Still, he wasn't about to do anything that Gale really didn't want him to do. The last thing he wanted was to end up feeling like he had taken advantage of Gale, or worse; for Gale to feel like he'd taken advantage of him. He didn't think he'd be able to live with himself afterwards, and while Gale hadn't pushed him away just yet, he still looked vaguely terrified, and so he tilted his head slightly to catch Gale's eye, raising his eyebrows at him, “Buck?”

“Don't stop.” Gale eventually whispered, reaching out to lightly touch his waist with shaky fingers.

That was enough for him, and so he let his thigh press a little more firmly against Gale's cock, his own breath catching in his throat as he did. This was literally the last thing that he'd imagined would happen tonight, and he still wasn't totally convinced that he wasn't dreaming.

How long had he wanted Gale like this? How long had he wanted some sort of excuse to touch Gale like this? For all that he'd imagined it, and had dreamt up hundreds of different scenarios in his head, he'd never imagined that it would happen here of all places. Still, he certainly wasn't naive enough to let himself believe that this was happening because Gale actually wanted him. It was convenient, was all. He was just helping Gale out, rather than leaving him to deal with it himself.

Gale exhaled a shaky breath as he tentatively rocked against his thigh, his fingers inching just underneath his sweater to press against the bare skin of his waist again, “I.. John, I-”

“I know, I know.” He whispered, winding his own arm around Gale's waist to pull him slightly closer, “Helping you out, is all.”

It was easy to let the words spill out, to reassure Gale that he was just giving him a helping hand. It wasn't hard to see that Gale hadn't quite let himself relax into this yet, and the last thing he wanted to do was frighten him off.

He didn't have the words to describe how long and how badly he'd wanted this, but he knew that giving that away wasn't a good idea. This wasn't about him or what he wanted; it was just about giving Gale some sort of relief so that he'd be able to sleep. That's all this was.

Gale nodded, seemingly satisfied with his words, although a soft gasp caught in his throat as they moved at the same time; as he pressed his thigh up between Gale's legs again just as Gale rocked down against him.

God, that was.. he couldn't even describe how he felt right now. Gale's cheeks were still flushed, although he couldn't tell if it was still purely from embarrassment, or if it was simply from arousal now. Either way, he looked so goddamn beautiful, and he knew there was no point in even trying to pretend that he wasn't hard by now too. He didn't see the point in trying to hide it, either.

“That feel good?” He asked, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. They couldn't risk waking any of the other guys, and so he knew that they had to keep quiet. That only added to the thrill, though, to know that they were doing this in a room full of other people, who were oblivious as to what was happening in their bunk.

Gale nodded, sighing softly again, “Yeah, feels..” He trailed off, rocking his hips down against his thigh again.

“Tell me.” He whispered.

“Feels so good.” Gale sighed, pressing his fingers in a little harder where he was still holding onto his waist, “Please, John.. I need-”

“I know what you need, I got you.” He whispered.

He refused to let himself think too hard about it as he pulled Gale closer, sliding his thigh between both of Gale's to slot their hips together properly. Like this, they could grind against each other, and while that might have been pushing it a little far; he found it hard to think about that when it felt this good. He could insist all he wanted that this was simply about helping Gale out, but he didn't feel bad about letting himself have this.

“This alright?” He asked softly, his arm still around Gale's waist as he rolled their hips together.

Gale just nodded, a soft whimper slipping from his throat, “Yeah.. don't stop.”

He almost didn't know where he was supposed to look as he and Gale rocked against each other, their bodies moving together in a slow grind that had that heat and arousal pulling tight in his stomach. Gale was right there, his face barely inches from his own, although it felt almost too intimate to let himself look into Gale's eyes.

He was under no impressions; he knew that this wasn't him and Gale simply sleeping with each other because they'd given into their feelings for each other. It was just.. taking what they both needed from somebody who was willing to give it. Still, even though he knew that, the way he felt about Gale was.. well, he knew just how deeply he felt for Gale, how deeply he'd always felt for him. It would have been so easy to close his eyes and pretend that it was different; that Gale was doing this simply because he wanted him.

Still, he knew that this probably wouldn't ever happen again, and so he didn't want to end up missing a single second of it. To close his eyes meant that it could have been anybody pressed up against him like this, and he didn't want that. He wanted to commit every last detail to memory, rather than simply giving himself over to how good it felt.

He wanted to remember the hot and heavy look in Gale's eyes as they moved together, he wanted to remember every tiny sound that he made. He wanted to be able to remember this for the rest of his life; however long or short that might be.

He slid a hand down the length of Gale's thigh so that he could pull his leg up over his hip, pressing his own thigh a little more firmly between Gale's legs. It felt so goddamn good to be pressed up against each other like this, and he couldn't help the quiet moan that spilled from his throat as they moved against each other.

“Shh.. gotta stay quiet.” Gale whispered, wrapping his leg a little more securely around his hip.

He huffed softly, closing his eyes as he leaned in to press his forehead against Gale's, “Easy for you to say.” He murmured.

“You think?”

He bit back a soft huff of laughter, letting his forehead roll against Gale's as he shifted slightly in an attempt to press in even closer.

With how their hips were pressed tight together, he could feel Gale's hard cock pressed against his own as they moved together, and it took every ounce of his restraint to keep his hands where they were; one on Gale's thigh to keep his leg up around his hip, the other one trapped between the thin mattress and Gale's shoulder.

He couldn't even describe how badly he wanted to touch Gale properly. If they'd been anywhere other than here, he would have slowly stripped Gale out of his clothes to leave them both naked. He would have used his hands, and his mouth, and his own cock to make Gale feel good; in a way that he was sure nobody had made him feel before. He knew that he couldn't, though. He knew that to even touch Gale's cock right now would probably make it feel a little too real for the other man, and he was still afraid of doing anything that might frighten him off. So, this was more than enough.

“God, Buck, that's..” He trailed off, a soft moan catching in his throat again as he let his gaze trail back up to Gale's face.

Gale was already looking at him, his blue eyes dark with arousal and something that looked suspiciously like want. He'd never imagined that he'd get to experience Gale looking at him like that; like they were the only two people in the world, like he was the only thing that mattered to him. He was almost sure that he was interpreting it wrong, though, because the idea of Gale actually wanting him like that was, well.. he knew that that wasn't the case.

He couldn't help but wish that they weren't in almost complete darkness, though, because he wanted to really look at Gale. He needed to be able to remember every single detail of this, down to the way that Gale's gaze flicked down to his lips for a brief moment, before looking back up at him. In saying that, though, if he let himself focus on that detail for too long, then he knew he'd only end up doing something that they couldn't come back from. It was best he didn't dwell on it.

“Please, Bucky.. I need..” Gale whispered, sliding his hands along his waist underneath his sweater, as though he was trying to pull him closer, even though they were already pressed right up against each other.

“I know, baby. I know. I got you.”

He used his weight to roll them over, his hand still cupped around the back of Gale's knee to keep his leg up around his hip as he pressed Gale back against the mattress, before settling on top of him. He braced his other forearm on the pillow next to Gale's head, a soft gasp spilling from his throat as he started to move again.

Jesus Christ, that was.. he didn't think it could feel any better than it already had, but like this, it felt like he and Gale were pressed even impossibly closer together, and he really didn't know how he was supposed to handle that.

He was between Gale's legs now; one of Gale's legs still hitched up around his hips, the other pressed up against the side of his body. It felt even more intense than it had before, though; and pressed up against each other like this, he could feel Gale's hard cock pressed right up against his own as he rolled their hips together. It felt so goddamn good to be able to feel just how turned on Gale was, and while he knew that it wasn't because of him; he was still the one who got to do something about it.

Like this, it was easy to pretend that everything was different. It was easy to pretend that he was actually fucking Gale, despite the fact that they were both still fully clothed.

Gale scraped his fingers down the length of his back as they moved together, his fingers pressing in hard enough to his bare skin that he almost hoped it would leave scratches. He wanted some sort of physical evidence to prove that this had happened, and that it wasn't something that his mind had simply dreamt up while he was asleep.

Still, he knew that there was only so much that he could dream up himself. For as much and as often as he'd imagined this happening, it didn't even begin to compare to the real thing. Like this, Gale was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen; the soft sounds that he was making, the way that he was trembling underneath him as they moved against each other. His own fantasies didn't even come close to the real thing.

“You feel so goddamn good.” He sighed, leaning down close so that he could whisper the words in Gale's ear.

He felt completely enveloped in Gale, and it really was everything that he had ever wanted. His mind was completely blank, filled with nothing but the thoughts of Gale, Gale, Gale. The feeling of Gale's legs around his hips, his fingers on his bare skin, the way that he gasped softly as they rolled their hips together. He didn't think anything had ever felt as good.

With how close they were pressed together, he could smell the rich, heady scent of Gale's sweat, and he couldn't help but press his face in against the hollow of Gale's neck, inhaling deeply. It made him never want to move from here, honestly. It made him want to burrow into the crook of Gale's neck and stay there for the rest of his life.

The only word that he could use to describe how this felt was intense. Gale was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and the way he looked, the way he sounded, even the way he smelled; it made his head swim with lust, and desire, and hunger for the other man.

Gale moaned softly, the quiet sound slipping out despite his obvious best efforts to keep quiet. It was such a turn on to know that he was making Gale feel this good; that it was his touch, and his body pressed against Gale's that had the other man moaning and trembling like this.

“Gotta keep quiet, doll.” He teased, the pet name slipping out as he gently scraped his teeth along the taut tendon of Gale's neck. He knew he couldn't leave marks, and so it took every bit of his restraint not to suck at the warm, salty skin of Gale's neck, to taste him the way he wanted to.

As much as he knew they had to stay quiet, it felt almost intoxicating to know that Gale didn't seem to be capable of it by now. He wasn't worrying too hard about it, though. He just hoped that, if they had woken anybody else, that they assumed it was just one of them jerking off while the other slept. The makeshift curtain was down, and so it wasn't as if anybody could see them. Nobody had to know that they were doing this together.

Gale moaned softly again at the pet name, his back arching up off the bunk to press even closer to him, “Please, John.. that's.. you feel so good.”

“You like that? You like when I call you doll?” He asked, leaning up to whisper the words in Gale's ear again, “What about baby? You'd let me call you my baby?” He barely realized what he was saying, too caught up in the sensation of it all, and how good it all felt.

Waking up this morning, he never could have imagined that he would end up here; moaning softly against Gale's neck as he humped against the other man like a dog in heat. If he'd been in any frame of mind to share his inner monologue right now, Gale would have laughed at that, because it wasn't the first time that he'd been compared to a dog, to Gale's dog.

He always came when Gale called, and did whatever it was that Gale asked of him. Come, heel, sit, stay, bite. Anything Gale asked, he’d do without question, and he knew that he and Gale weren't the only two people who knew that. It was no secret that he was hopelessly devoted to Gale, although he was almost sure that he'd done a good job of keeping quiet about just how devoted he was to him, how deeply he felt for him.

At this point, Gale seemed to be past the point of doing anything other than panting as he rolled his hips up again, their bodies moving together in that rhythm that had flames of pleasure licking up his spine every time that he rocked his own hips down against Gale's body.

“Say it again.” Gale sighed, shivering against him as he pressed his head back into the pillow, still clutching at his back to hold him close.

“Say what?”

“That.. just, fuck.” Gale gasped.

“What, doll?” He asked, letting the tip of his nose trail feather light up the length of Gale's neck.

The only response from Gale was a quiet whine, his hips rolling up to meet his again, and so he grinned as he grazed Gale's neck with his teeth, slowing the rhythm of his hips until they were grinding each other almost painfully slowly.

“Knew you liked it.” He teased, his breath warm against the side of Gale's neck as he pressed slow, open mouthed kisses to his skin, “You are a doll, though, you're my doll. My babydoll.”

Gale moaned softly again at his words, sliding his calf against his ass to keep them pressed close together, to keep them entwined as he rolled his own hips up again, “Just like that.. God, good boy.” He sighed.

Without taking a moment to think about what he was doing, he leaned back up to press his lips to Gale's in a hard kiss, cupping his jaw in his hand.

He knew that actually kissing Gale was crossing a line, that it was turning this into something that it wasn't; something it was never going to be. He couldn't help it, though. It was hard enough to keep a level head with how good this felt, but hearing Gale call him a good boy, hearing how much Gale liked it when he called him babydoll; it made him feel as though his brain was backfiring.

Thankfully, Gale didn't seem to be phased by the kiss. He simply moaned into his mouth as he leaned up into it, letting a hand slide up to cup around the nape of his neck.

That was.. God, if he thought that it was good before, then he didn't have the words now to describe just how good it felt now, with Gale's lips pressed against his own. He'd been dreaming of this for as long as he could remember, and so despite the fact that Gale hadn't even touched his cock, it still felt like the best sex he'd ever had.

Still, he knew that whatever hope he'd had before of telling himself that this didn't mean anything, or that he was just giving Gale a helping hand, there was no point in even trying to pretend now that this wasn't everything he'd ever wanted. He was having sex with Gale, and while he knew deep down that it didn't mean anything to Gale, it was easy to pretend otherwise. It was easy to let himself be selfish, and take what he wanted; purely because he loved Gale, and he wanted this with him.

He couldn't help the soft noise that spilled from his throat as the kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against Gale's in a way that had the heat pulling tight in his stomach. He knew he shouldn't have let it get this far, he knew that they should rein it back a little, but he couldn't find it in himself to want to stop. If this was his one opportunity to have this, then he was going to push it as far as he could.

He let the pace slow down again, grinding his hips against Gale's as he delved his tongue into Gale's mouth. He couldn't ignore how intimate this felt; to be wrapped in each other like this as they moved together, with Gale gently stroking his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. Honestly, he could have stayed here forever, letting himself become familiar with the taste and texture of Gale's mouth as their lips and tongues slowly slid together.

He knew that he didn't have long left in him. It just felt too damn good, and he knew that it was only heightened because of who he was with. He was sure that, after this long, sex with anybody would have felt pretty damn good, but knowing that it was Gale underneath him just made it feel so much better. He could tell that Gale was getting close too; it was obvious in the way that he was trembling and whimpering underneath him, still clutching at his body to pull him closer.

He would have liked to drag this out for as long as possible, but he knew that that wasn't an option. Honestly, he was surprised he hadn't come in his skivvies almost as soon as he and Gale had first pressed against each other.

So, after one last slow, intense kiss, he let his teeth catch Gale's lower lip for a moment, before pulling away from him so that he could lean down and whisper into his ear again, “I'm so close, doll.” He breathed, rolling his hips again, “Can you feel how hard I am for you? God, the things I'd do to you if I had you in a proper bed right now.”

He knew he was veering into dangerous territory here, but he really couldn't have cared less right now. Gale could pretend all he liked that this didn't mean anything, and that it was simply about getting off, but how was he supposed to act as if that was still the case for him? He wasn't sure how he was supposed to pretend that this didn't mean everything to him.

Thankfully, Gale was either too far gone to realize what he'd said, or he was just choosing to ignore it, but he simply moaned softly as he dropped his head back against the pillow, “Me too, I'm‐ God, I'm gonna come.”

“Come on, you can let go.” He whispered, leaning back down to press another open mouthed kiss to the hollow of Gale's neck, “I want you to come for me, baby.”

That was evidently all it took to push Gale over the edge, and he gasped again as he arched his back up off the bed, his fingers digging into his skin where he was still holding onto his back. He looked.. God, he looked so beautiful. His eyes were closed, his cheeks flushed as he gave himself over to the pleasure of his orgasm.

He was right behind him; the sight of Gale as he finished just enough to push him over the edge. He moaned softly against the warm, sweat-slick skin of Gale's neck, clutching at the other man as he finally spilled into his own skivvies. That was.. Jesus Christ, he couldn't remember the last time that anything had felt that good.

They were both silent for a moment after they'd finished, still trembling against each other as they slowly came down from their high.

He could feel Gale's fingers still in his hair, gently scratching at the nape of his neck, and it made him want to just melt into the other man's touch. It made him want to fall asleep like this; still on top of Gale, with Gale's legs still wrapped loosely around his hips, breathing in the deep, heady scent that couldn't be anything other than Gale.

He knew that they couldn't, though. It wasn't unusual for the guards to drag them out of their bunks in the middle of the night in order to do a headcount and search the bunkrooms, and he didn't even want to think about what the consequences might be if they were caught like this. He knew they had to just consider themselves lucky that they hadn't already been caught out tonight.

He eventually made himself pull away from Gale, laying just next to him again. Their legs were still entwined further down the bed, though, and he was almost sure that Gale would be able to feel his breath against his cheek, with how close they were laying.

His mind was still feeling a little fuzzy from the intensity of his orgasm, and he could see that Gale was obviously feeling the same way, and so he let himself simply look for a moment; let himself really look at Gale, in a way that he'd never let himself do before.

Gale looked like a fucking dream, honestly. His hair was in disarray, and that flush was still high on his cheeks. His chest was still heaving slightly as he attempted to catch his breath, and he still couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that it was because of him; that it was his touch and his body that had Gale looking so thoroughly worn-out.

“Should probably clean up a little.” He eventually whispered, just because he didn't know what else he was supposed to say. Gale wasn't freaking out yet, but that didn't mean that it wasn't about to happen. He knew how Gale's mind worked, and that didn't bode too well for him right now.

Gale turned his head to look at him, blinking lazily at him, “Yeah.” He said softly, before seeming to realize what he'd said, “Uh.. how-”

“Here.” He murmured, sitting up as well as he could in the confined space of the bunk. They weren't allowed to leave the combine during lights out, and so going down to the shower facilities to wash up was out of the question. They'd have to just make do with what they had.

So, he grabbed one of his spare shirts from the end of the bunk, handing it over to Gale so that he could give himself a quick, perfunctory clean up. It wasn't much, and it certainly wouldn't do a good enough job, but the alternative was to just do nothing until the morning, and he knew that having to go to sleep while feeling even more unclean than he had before would be just asking for Gale to freak out about what they'd done.

Gale didn't say anything as he took the shirt, and so he simply turned over onto his back, doing his best to give Gale some sort of privacy as he cleaned himself up.

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he stared up at the bottom of the bunk above him, although he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

He had finally gotten everything that he had ever wanted, but it had left him not really knowing where he and Gale stood. What if Gale came to his senses while he was sleeping, and he woke up to find himself alone in the bunk, with Gale doing his best to avoid him?

He had finally gotten everything he'd ever wanted, but what if it came at the cost of his and Gale's friendship? The worst possible outcome of this was that he'd end up losing Gale over it, and he had a horrible feeling that that might not be such an unlikely scenario.

He just didn't know what he was supposed to say in order to make sure that everything was still okay, which he could admit was a first for him. He was usually an expert on filling silences with empty words, and talking simply for the sake of talking, but this was different. It felt fragile, as though he was going to ruin everything if he said anything at all.

He was dragged back to the present moment by Gale gently nudging his elbow with his own, and he glanced over to find Gale holding the shirt out to him, “Thanks.” He murmured.

He took the shirt, refusing to let himself think about Gale's presence next to him as he unbuttoned his pants so that he could shove the shirt down into his skivvies, cleaning himself up as well as he could. It really wasn't enough, and he knew that he'd probably still wake up tomorrow morning feeling sticky and uncomfortable, but that was a problem to deal with in the morning.

If nothing else, cleaning himself up like this was an excuse to not have to look at Gale for a little longer, just because he was almost afraid of what he'd find when he did.

Once he'd done as good a job as he was going to do, he tossed the shirt down the end of the bunk to be dealt with tomorrow, before swallowing thickly as he finally turned back onto his side to face Gale, “You good?” He asked softly.

Gale just nodded, although there was something in his eyes that he didn't like, something that looked a little guarded, “Yeah.” He whispered.

“Yeah.” He echoed, fighting to keep his gaze from dropping to Gale's lips as the other man chewed nervously at the lower one.

He couldn't help but think of how those lips had felt pressed against his own, and he couldn't help but want to do it again. He knew that was out of the question, though, and so he simply shuffled a little closer on the pillow. He knew that he was pushing his luck, but he ducked down slightly to lightly flick the tip of his nose against Gale's shoulder, “Should try and get some sleep, Santa won't come if you're up all night.” He whispered, attempting to lighten the mood.

Gale nodded again, although he thankfully gave him a small smile as he tucked himself in slightly closer to his side, before turning over onto his own side, facing away from him.

He still wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation between himself and Gale right now. The other man didn’t seem to be particularly perturbed by what they'd done, but that didn't really mean anything. He knew that Gale was good at hiding his feelings and covering up how he really felt, and so he knew that there was no guarantee that Gale wasn't freaking out on the inside.

Still, at least Gale hadn't insisted that he should go back to his own bunk. They might have been sitting on slightly rocky territory, but Gale was still here. He wasn't facing him, but he was still pressed against his side, and so he'd take that as a good sign.

He turned over onto his own side, curling up close behind Gale. He didn't chance wrapping Gale in his arms, the way he really wanted to, but he was close enough to him that he could feel Gale's hair tickling his nose, and his knees were pressed to the back of Gale's knees, their bodies curled close together. They weren't quite spooning, but it was something. It was nice.

He knew that they'd probably have to face what they'd done tomorrow, but he didn't want to think about that right now. The only thing that mattered to him right now was the fact that Gale was still here, and that he was happy to curl up with his back pressed against his front.

So, he did his best to push any thoughts of tomorrow from his mind as he pressed his face in against Gale's hair, willing sleep to come to him.

The next morning, he couldn't say he was all too surprised when he woke up to find himself alone in the bunk.

It took him a moment to recall the events from the night before, but once he did, his stomach turned uncomfortably when he turned back over to find that Gale was nowhere to be seen.

Checking his watch, he found that it was still early enough, but not so early that they weren't allowed to leave the combine yet, and so he tried his best not to panic about the fact that Gale had already gotten up. He had probably just gone down to the shower facilities to clean himself up a little better, he wasn't necessarily panicking over what they had done and deliberately made himself scarce.

He hoped so anyway, because he couldn't stand the thought of Gale doing his best to avoid him.

He and Gale had left things on relatively good terms last night, though. They hadn't exactly spoken about what they'd done, but Gale had still pressed back against his body in order to seek warmth from him during the night, and he hadn't pulled away when he had curled in close to press his face in against the back of his neck.

He just hoped that, in the time since Gale had woken up and had left the bunk, that he hadn't done too much thinking about what they'd done, and that he hadn't managed to convince himself that it was wrong, and bad, and dirty. It wasn't, and so he just hoped that Gale hadn't told himself that it was.

Honestly, as far as he was concerned, last night had been everything that he'd ever dreamt of. Sure, like he'd said, he and Gale had still been fully clothed, and the most they had done was grind against each other, but he just.. that didn't matter to him. Getting to be with Gale at all made it all worth it, and he knew that he'd never regret a single thing that they'd done last night.

“Hey, Bucky.”

He looked over at the sound of his name, finding Brady half sat up in his own bunk, and the younger man waved over in his direction, “Hey.” He said softly, scratching a hand through his hair as he pushed himself up onto an elbow.

“Merry Christmas.” Brady said, tossing a folded piece of paper over in his direction.

He picked up the paper from where it had landed next to him on the bunk, opening it up to find that it was an attempt at a handmade Christmas card. It wasn't much; a piece of paper folded over with a Christmas tree drawn in pencil on the front, and a short To Bucky. Merry Christmas, from Johnny written on the inside, but it was nice that Brady had thought to do it, especially when there wasn't going to be much celebrating this year.

“Thanks, Johnny. Merry Christmas.” He said with a small smile. Brady had always been a good friend to him, and even though he'd never said as much; he'd forever be grateful for the fact that he'd made him jump first when their fort was going down. Otherwise, he couldn't say for sure that he would have jumped at all. Still, he didn't like to think about it.

“Hey, you seen Buck this morning?” He asked.

There weren't many places that they could go, but he figured he'd ask anyway. He just hoped that, wherever Gale had gone, that it was somewhere they might be able to talk. Maybe bringing it up was a bad idea, but he wanted to at least clear the air, and make sure that Gale wasn't completely freaking out on him.

Brady glanced back over at him, before shrugging his shoulders, “He got up a little while ago, think he went down to the showers.”

“Alright.” He said with a nod, “If he comes back while I'm gone, tell him I was looking for him?”

Brady nodded, “Yeah, will do.”

He clambered down off his bunk then as Brady went back to his own devices, although he tried his best not to grimace at the dried mess in his skivvies. He knew that only just cleaning themselves up with his shirt last night hadn't been the best idea, but it wasn't as if they'd had much of a choice. It was either that, or go to sleep without cleaning themselves up at all.

Speaking of which, the shirt that they'd used was nowhere to be seen, even though he'd left it down the end of the bunk. He guessed that Gale had probably taken it with him when he'd gone to the shower, in order to give it a wash.

He quickly got his things together, grabbing his last somewhat clean shirt, as well as a change of skivvies. His pants would last another couple of days before really needing to be washed, and so he'd just make do. As well as the change of clothes, he grabbed his gloves, and the chocolate bar that he'd been keeping for Gale. He had a feeling that he knew where Gale might be, and so he'd head straight there after he'd cleaned up.

As he made his way from the combine to the washroom, though, he couldn't say that he was particularly looking forward to having to clean up. He knew that he probably wouldn't feel overly clean unless he managed a proper shower, and while there were showers here; the water was always icy cold, and it dribbled out of the faucet. Still, it was better than nothing.

It seemed Gale had already finished up and left before he'd gotten there, and he actually found himself pretty relieved for that. He knew that he and Gale had to talk at some point today, but he didn't want it to be while they were both naked and attempting to clean themselves of the mess they'd made last night. They could talk after.

He quickly stripped off, before stepping under the shower. Like he'd known it would be, the water was freezing cold, and so he didn't bother wasting time, just rinsed himself down as well as he could.

He didn't regret giving Gale the last of his soap the other day, but he could admit that it made for a less than pleasant experience now. If he never had to clean dried come off of himself with nothing more than cold water, then he was more than fine with that.

He quickly dried off and dressed again once he'd cleaned himself up as well as he was going to, although he found himself wishing not for the first time that their winter clothes were a little heavier. His sweater was a little better than just a shirt, but it still wasn't a whole lot to keep warm.

Once he'd finished dressing, he figured that he'd head straight for the library. He had a feeling that Gale might be there, and he hoped that he was right. This early, he knew that the library would be pretty abandoned, and so he hoped that he might get lucky, and find Gale there by himself.

Still, as he walked there, he couldn't ignore the nerves twisting in his stomach. What if Gale didn't want to talk to him? He knew that it was a pretty likely possibility, but it was one that he didn't want to consider. They'd be fine, they had to be. He and Gale had gotten through worse than this, and so all he could do was try and tell himself that they'd be fine.

Letting himself into the library, he breathed a sigh of relief when he found Gale sat at the small table in the middle of the room, his cheek propped in his hand as he read whatever book he'd settled on. He was relieved to find that he was alone, too.

Gale hadn't noticed him yet, too caught up in his book, and he couldn't help the faint smile that pulled at his lips as he watched him. Gale's hair was still slightly damp from his own shower, and his cheeks and nose were flushed slightly pink with the cold. He looked beautiful, though, and he tried his best not to get too distracted by the thoughts of how Gale's lips had felt pressed against his own last night, or the way he had scraped his fingers down his back, or the soft sounds that he'd made as he came. He couldn't let himself think about any of that right now.

So, he simply knocked at the door frame, giving Gale a small smile when he looked up at the sound, “Hey.”

Gale smiled back, although it looked a little bit tight, a little bit nervous, “Hey, you survived.”

“Survived what?” He asked.

“Brady.” Gale said with a shrug, “He said earlier that he was gonna smother you with your pillow if you didn't quit snoring.”

He couldn't help but laugh, stepping a little further into the room, “And here I thought he was being nice, giving me a Christmas card.”

Gale nodded, “Yeah, I got one too. Think he was up all morning making ‘em.”

He just smiled, letting himself lean against the edge of the table. He wasn't really sure what he was supposed to think here. Gale didn't seem too uneasy, but he knew that he was good at masking how he felt. He'd just never expected to be on the receiving end of that. Still, maybe everything was okay, maybe Gale wasn't actually freaking out.

So, he held out the pair of gloves, as well as the chocolate bar that he'd brought with him, “Merry Christmas, Buck.” He said softly, “Didn't have a bow or anything, so.. sorry they're not wrapped.”

Gale just looked at the gift for a moment, before looking back up at him, “What's this?” He asked.

“Your Christmas present.” He said, biting his lip gently, “I know it's not much, but I.. wanted to give you something, y’know? Since it's your birthday in two days too, and all that.”

Gale didn't say anything for a moment, although he eventually shook his head, a frown crossing his face, “I can't take these, John. They're your gloves.” He said softly.

“Yeah, but you need ‘em more than me. Did you forget how cold your hands were last night?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

He had only planned on giving Gale the chocolate bar, but after feeling how cold Gale's hands had been last night, and especially after finding out that he had traded his own gloves away, he figured that this was the least he could do for him.

Gale looked back down at his book, his cheeks flushing slightly at the mention of last night. He shook his head again after a moment, though, glancing back up at him, “I can't, John.”

“What, ‘cause of last night?” He asked.

He hadn't planned on just diving straight into it, but he couldn't let Gale use that as an excuse to not take the gifts. They could sweep it under the rug and pretend that it hadn't happened if that was what Gale really wanted, but he refused to let it change anything between them. Before, he knew that, aside from a perfunctory complaint about how he didn't have to do this, Gale would have just taken the gifts. He would have thanked him for the gloves, and he would have shared the chocolate bar with him, and that would be that.

Gale's cheeks flushed again, his jaw working as he tried to figure out what to say, “Last night was.. it was a mistake. It didn't mean anything, and it should never have happened.”

He sighed, his stomach dropping at the conviction with which Gale claimed that last night had been a mistake, and that it hadn't meant anything.

Sure, he'd known that it wasn't a good idea, and he had tried telling himself all along that it didn't actually mean a thing, but how was he supposed to pretend that that was the case? Last night had felt like probably the most important sex he'd ever had in his life, and so he couldn't stand here and pretend that it hadn't meant anything to him.

“That's really what you think? That it just.. didn't mean a thing?” He asked.

“It didn't.” Gale insisted, looking up at him. His cheeks were still flushed with embarrassment, but he had the steely set to his jaw that he didn't like; the one that said that he wasn't going to budge.

He scoffed, shaking his head, “How can you say that?” He asked, “How can you sit there and act as if it didn't mean anything?”

“John-”

“No, I-” He cut himself off, sighing again. He didn't even know what he was supposed to say, how he was supposed to tell Gale that it had meant something to him, “Is it because of Marge?” He asked, “Is that it? You feel guilty?”

He hated to bring her up right now, but he just needed to know. Sure, he'd been expecting Gale to freak out this morning, but he had seemed so into it last night, and so he wasn't sure how he could sit here and claim that it hadn't meant anything. The only thing he could think of was that Gale was feeling guilty over being unfaithful to Marge, and he was trying to lessen that.

“It's not because of Marge.” Gale said, “It's..”

“Then what? ‘Cause you can say it was a mistake all you want, but don't tell me that it didn't mean anything, because it-”

“Because you shouldn't have had to.. do that.” Gale snapped, before shaking his head again as he slumped back into his seat, “I took advantage of you. I should've.. I should have just gone back to my own bunk, so you wouldn't have felt as though you had to do that.”

For a moment, he simply looked at Gale, because he almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did Gale really think that he'd taken advantage of him, and that last night hadn't been everything that he'd ever wanted? It was such a ridiculous idea that he almost couldn't take it seriously, but Gale's features were still twisted into an unhappy frown, and it seemed that he could barely even make himself look at him.

“You're serious? That's what you actually think?” He asked, before a huff of laughter bubbled out of his throat, “Buck, I- I didn't do anything last night that I didn't want to do, that I haven't wanted to do for.. I can't even remember how long.”

He hadn't planned on admitting that to Gale any time soon, but he couldn't leave it like this. He couldn't just walk out of here and leave Gale thinking that he'd taken advantage of him last night. If anything, he had worried about it being the other way around, and so he couldn't just stand here and say nothing.

Gale looked up at him, a frown crossing his face, “You.. what?” He asked.

“It meant something to me.” He said softly, trying to ignore the nerves twisting in his stomach again, “Ever since I met you, I've..” He trailed off, huffing softly, “I don't know, Buck. I wanted it, I've always wanted it.”

“Come on, John.” Gale sighed, and it looked as if he didn't know what he wanted to do with himself; whether he wanted to continue this conversation, or whether he wanted to be literally anywhere other than here.

“Why'd you think I kissed you, huh? Why'd you think I did any of that if it wasn't what I wanted?”

“That's just this place talking, John.” Gale said softly, “It's been a long time, for both of us, and we got caught up doing something we shouldn't have done, and y-”

“I love you.”

He felt as if he could have been sick once the words were out, but he couldn't do this. He couldn't stand here and let Gale try and talk him out of something that he knew he wanted. If Gale didn't feel the same way, then that was something he'd just have to deal with, but he needed to give him the whole story.

Gale just looked at him, and it was impossible to even try and decipher the expression on his face.

“I've been in love with you since we were in flight school.” He admitted, a huff of laughter spilling from him, even as he swallowed around the lump in his throat, “So don't try and tell me that it didn't mean anything, ‘cause I know how I feel, and I know what I want. Maybe it didn't mean anything to you, but I-”

He was cut off when Gale stood up from his seat and crossed the distance between them to pull him into a hard kiss, the force of it enough to have him staggering back a couple of steps, his back colliding with the bookshelf behind him.

For a moment, he simply froze, caught off guard by what was happening. It didn't take him long to catch up, though, and he dropped his hands to Gale's hips to pull him closer as he kissed him back.

This was.. he couldn't quite believe that this was actually happening. He'd been so afraid of what the outcome of this conversation would be; he'd been so afraid of Gale feeling like he couldn't be around him anymore, of Gale being disgusted by what they'd done last night. For some reason, this outcome hadn't been on his radar, and he barely had the words to describe how grateful he was.

He lifted one hand to fit it around the curve of Gale's jaw as they kissed, before stepping away from the bookshelf so that he could turn them around, pressing Gale back against the shelf.

Like this, he had a slight height advantage on the other man, and it felt so good to crowd up against Gale like this, to feel the way that he had to raise up slightly onto his toes in order to reach him. They were very nearly the same height, though, and that was something he wasn't used to.

Gale's lips were soft but slightly chapped against his own as their mouths moved together, and he couldn't help the soft noise that spilled from his throat as he parted his lips to Gale's tongue, meeting it with his own.

Last night, he'd been too caught up in the pleasure of what they were doing to really take in just how good it was to kiss Gale like this. Now, all he wanted was to sink into it. He could feel Gale's fingers shaking where he was still holding onto the front of his sweater, but he understood that this was all just a little bit overwhelming. He felt it too, and so he didn't see a reason to stop.

Dropping both of his hands back down, he slid them underneath the end of Gale's sweater, pressing his fingers to the bare skin of Gale's waist. He hadn't really gotten a chance to touch him last night, and now, he never wanted to stop. He wanted to press his thigh between both of Gale's again and see what other noises he could get him to make that he hadn't heard last night. He wanted to sink to his knees between Gale's legs and taste him. He wanted everything.

As if he could read his mind, Gale pulled back from the kiss, exhaling a shaky breath as he leaned his forehead against his, “Wait, John, I.. we can't do this here.” He whispered.

He pulled back just far enough to look at Gale, biting his lip gently, “We can't do it here, or we can't do it at all?” He asked. He didn't want to consider the possibility that Gale was already backtracking here, but he knew that it wasn't impossible. Maybe Gale had been just as caught off by that kiss as he'd been.

Gale just looked up at him, before lifting a hand to gently brush his fingers against his cheek, “We can't do it here.” He said softly, “Anyone could walk by and see, and I..”

“I know.” He murmured, leaning into Gale's touch.

He got it, he knew that they were fucked if anyone walked by and saw them all over each other. The best case scenario was that it was one of their guys, but if it was anybody else? If it was one of the guards? He didn't even want to think of what the consequences might be.

Still, it almost felt like there was a weight lifted off his chest at the fact that Gale had said that they just couldn't do it here, and not that they couldn't do it at all. It gave him a bit of hope that maybe it would all be okay.

So, he glanced back to make sure that there was nobody out in the corridor, before taking the front of Gale's sweater and walking him back to the other corner of the room, so that they were next to the doorway, rather than in front of it. At least here, nobody would see them if they were simply walking by.

He cupped Gale's face in between his hands, leaning in to press their lips together again. This kiss was softer, sweeter, and it wasn't much more than the simple press of Gale's mouth against his own. It was the kind of kiss that he had always imagined sharing with Gale.

He pulled back after a moment, lightly flicking his nose against Gale's, “It meant something to me.” He whispered, letting his thumb gently trace the silvery scar on Gale's cheek, “It's always meant something to me.”

“I didn't know.” Gale said softly, his hands on his hips to hold him close, “I thought.. I don't know, I thought I'd cornered you into it last night. I didn't know how I was supposed to face you this morning.” He admitted.

He smiled, closing his eyes as he leaned in to press his forehead against Gale's again, “I mean this with all the love in the world, but that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.” He teased.

Gale just huffed softly in response, sliding his arms around his waist again.

For a moment, they simply stood in silence, their eyes closed, their foreheads pressed together. He could feel Gale's hands pressed just underneath the end of his sweater, his fingers touching the bare skin of his waist. Honestly, he could have stayed here for the rest of his life, with he and Gale breathing the same air, and touching each other with gentle fingers.

“I love you too, by the way.” Gale murmured after a moment, “Just in case that wasn't clear.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, of course I do.” Gale said with a tiny smile.

He smiled back, although it dropped slightly after a moment, “What about Marge?” He asked.

It was no secret that Gale was planning on marrying her once they got home from the war, and he didn't think he'd ever forgive himself if he got in the way of that. Marge had always been a good friend to him, and so even though he'd never loved anybody the way he loved Gale, he didn't want to end up hurting her in the process.

In saying that, though, he didn't know how he was supposed to just let this go, now that he'd had a taste of what it was like to be with Gale. This was everything he'd ever wanted, and so he wasn't sure how he could just pretend that none of this had ever happened.

Gale frowned, although he didn't pull away from him, his fingers still lightly tracing patterns against the bare skin of his waist, “I don't know.” He said softly, “She's.. I'm going to marry her, John. I can't just leave her.”

“I know, I wouldn't want you to.” He admitted. He couldn't live with that on his conscience, and so he was relieved that Gale hadn't promised him that he'd leave Marge for him. He just wasn't sure where that left them.

Thankfully, though, Gale smiled again, even though it still looked a little bit unsure, “We'll figure it out, alright? We'll figure something out.”

“Yeah?”

“I'm tired of pretending I don't feel anything for you.” Gale admitted softly, “I don't want to give this up.”

He just smiled, closing his eyes as he leaned in to press his forehead against Gale's again. That was enough for him, to know that Gale felt the same way for him, and that he was willing to try.

He cupped Gale's chin in his hand, giving him one last soft kiss before pulling back just far enough to look at him again, “So will you please just take the gifts now?” He asked, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Gale huffed softly, rolling his eyes, “I'll take the chocolate.” He conceded, “And I want you to share it with me.”

“And the gloves?”

“They're your gloves, John. You'll need ‘em just as much as I would.” Gale said softly.

“I won't need them. I've got you to keep me warm.” He teased.

Gale rolled his eyes again, although it was impossible to miss the faint flush that coloured his cheeks, “Fine, but I'm making you take them back if you get cold.”

“I can live with that.” He huffed.

He knew that it would be weeks before the weather started to turn warm again, and that there probably would be the odd night here and there where he wished that he still had his gloves, but he meant what he'd said.

Gale could keep him warm on the particularly cold nights, and he was glad that they could use that as an excuse for when he simply wanted to be close to him. He knew that, on the freezing cold nights, that nobody would think twice about it if they found he and Gale curled up together.

He was glad that he wouldn't have to hide it from Gale either. Sure, he had never shied away from tucking himself in against his side when it was cold, but he'd always been afraid of crossing a line, of doing something that Gale wouldn't be comfortable with. Now, he was glad that it didn't have to be like that, that he could be open with Gale when it came to his feelings for him.

“What's wrong?” He asked, upon noticing the slightly downturned tilt to Gale's expression.

Gale just shrugged, before glancing back up at him, “I didn't get you a gift.”

It hadn't crossed his mind to even expect anything in return, mainly because the gifts he'd gotten Gale weren't anything to write home about. He'd just never considered the idea of not getting Gale anything, and especially because, as well as Christmas, it was his birthday in two days.

So, he just smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of stringy hair out of Gale's face, “Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me.” He said again.

Gale did what he was told, leaning up to press their lips together in a soft kiss. It wasn't anything more than that, just the gentle press of Gale's lips against his own, although he could feel the smile pulling at Gale's lips.

“There.” He said once he'd pulled back, lightly flicking the tip of his nose against Gale's, “That's my gift.”

Gale huffed, rolling his eyes. He was smiling, though, and that was all he could have asked for, “You're sweet.”

He smiled, pulling Gale in again as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders in a hug, Gale's arms coming up to wrap around his waist again in return, “Merry Christmas, Buck.” He whispered, leaning his chin on Gale's shoulder.

He could have stayed here forever; reveling in the weight of Gale's arms around him, the warmth of his body pressed close against his own, the feeling of his breath against his cheek as Gale turned his face in towards the embrace. He and Gale had hugged a thousand times before, but this was different. It was more, and he found himself never wanting to let this go.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Gale whispered, gently nudging his nose against his cheek.

He had no idea how much longer they'd be here for, but he was pretty sure that getting to have this with Gale would make it a little bit more bearable. It would give him something to fight for, something to actually make it through this for. He could. If it was for Gale, then he knew he could.

It wasn't much, but he could work with it.

[dykexpress]

greasedinah ficlet advent calendar 2024! 🎄❄️ 💕

first of december: rules are rules

second of december: racing tendencies

third of december: my angel

fourth of december: home for christmas

fifth of december: under the lights

sixth of december: take it slow

seventh of december: first snow

eighth of december: the naughty list

ninth of december: you've got no lovers, if you've got no wheels

tenth of december: baby it’s cold outside

eleventh of december: there’s always next year

twelfth of december: deck the halls

thirteenth of december: the perfect gift

fourteenth of december: kiss it better

fifteen of december: adult supervision required

sixteenth of december: lonely this christmas

seventeenth of december: all wrapped up

eighteenth of december: last minute panic

nineteenth of december: it’s tradition!

twentieth of december: signed, sealed, delivered

twenty-first of december: warm hands, warm heart

twenty-second of december: for the kids

twenty-third of december: memory lane

more to come!

okay guys i know i was just complaining about not enough lesbian greasedinah fics so im doing my part with a ficlet advent calendar up until christmas!

i am gonna be loosely following a prompt list i found on tumblr HOWEVER if anyone has any christmassy/wintery prompt ideas or any other little requests i’m more than happy to write those instead, so chuck those on this post, in the comments or in my ask box too!

[floridaboiler]

5 days until Christmas! 

Source - https://mewe.com/p/bikinisummer

[mymegumi]

MYMEGUMI’S TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS !

⠀ aka, twelve fics/drabbles i will be releasing starting twelve days before christmas every other day hehe and the last one will be released on christmas eve! please enjoy <3 oh, and in the general holiday spirits, all the fics will have a happy ending!! no blue christmases here ;)

⠀DECEMBER FOURTEENTH ⠀ ⌗ LAST CHRISTMAS (I GAVE YOU MY HEART) ⠀ ⠀ ⤿ geto suguru. exes to lovers, ⠀ ⠀ ⤿ “he was thinking of the fact that it was this time ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀last year that he’d told you he’d loved you for the ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀very first time.”

⠀DECEMBER SIXTEENTH ⠀ ⌗ I JUST WANT YOU (FOR MY OWN) ⠀ ⠀ ⤿ kamo choso. situationship to lovers

⠀ DECEMBER EIGHTEENTH ⠀ ⌗ DREAMING OF A WHITE CHRISTMAS ⠀ ⠀ ⤿ gojo satoru. established relationship

⠀ DECEMBER TWENTIETH ⠀ ⌗ YOU’RE A MEAN ONE (MR. GRINCH) ⠀ ⠀ ⤿ fushiguro megumi. enemies to lovers

⠀ DECEMBER TWENTY SECOND ⠀ ⌗ SWEATER WEATHER (CHRISTMAS VERSION) ⠀ ⠀ ⤿ itadori yuuji. established relationship

⠀ DECEMBER TWENTY FOURTH ⠀ ⌗ JUST ONE LITTLE THING (A RING) ⠀ ⠀ ⤿ nanami kento. established relationship

oh? you’re looking for something to do while you wait for the stories to drop?? look no further than selene’s wintery matchups! for these matchups, i have a couple of conditions—hope you don’t mind!

the only other thing i ask of you is patience! if im a bit behind on the matchups, it’s probably because i’m racing to get the stories finished and i hope you will forgive me for posting them behind when i was supposed to :(

⠀ one! these are first come first serve, with thirteen available ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀for the thirteen days before the first story is set to ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀release! ⠀ two! please send an ask listing the following things: ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⤿ your name/preferred alias ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⤿ the preferred anime (jjk, hq, bllk) ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⤿ the preferred gender of your match ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⤿ your favorite thing about the holidays ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⤿ a little bit about your personality/likes/interests ⠀ three! asks can be anonymous, but just know that ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ they’ll be more personalized if they’re off anon. ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ it’s completely up to you!

⌗ matchup availability (13/13)

[raeofsunrise]

CAN YOU DO CLAPTON PUTTING A TON OF THOUGHT INTO A SUPER CUTE LITTLE GIFT BASKET AND AT THE VERY BOTTOM IT CAN BE LIKE A NOTE OF HIM CONFESSING OR SUM🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

ugh yes i love this request!! hope you won’t mind me adding some holiday spice into it! hope you like it ☆ (borders made by @saradika-graphics)

from me, to you

word count: 1.4k

pairing: clapton davis x gn! reader

warnings: just some light swearing! some absolutely cliché fluffy shit head ❤️

—————

clapton davis had never really celebrated the christmas season. he never hated the holiday, but it was never his favorite. maybe it was the advertising; the loud, bright commercials and ads on the radio. maybe it was the cheesy music. it was the one time he refused to listen to the radio, in fear the start of “all i want for christmas is you” would be playing. or maybe it was the fact he knew he was desperately in love with you, and he did not want to spend the holiday season alone. again. without you.

yeah, you were friends. best friends. his confidant. his partner in crime. but he could never deny that he wanted to take it a step further. scratch that—five steps further.

he could never get over the way your hair flowed on windy days. it wasn’t like those scenes in the movies, but it always made you smile. god, how he loved your smile. but how would we tell you all this? would he tell you all this? today was december twentieth. which means it’s not only five days before christmas, but it’s almost the last day before winter break, the twenty-first. the last day he can get to be with you before you leave for the holidays.

he had to tell you. there was no doubting it.

clapton davis was gonna confess to you tomorrow. and you had no idea.

but how? would he tell you face to face? no. he wouldn’t be able to look in your beautiful eyes if you decided to reject him. maybe a text? no, that’s too douchey. even for clapton.

then it came to him.

a gift basket! and a letter! what’s more romantic than that? he’ll do it during your annual gift exchange you both do and (have done for years) in the morning. he knows the way your face lights up whenever he gives you something small, like a piece of gum. how would you react if he gave you something actually meaningful? oh, how he could get lost in that question for days.

but there was no time to waste.

the sooner he got this off his chest, the sooner you might be in his arms.

————————

you couldn’t get enough of the holidays. that was the one thing you and clapton didn’t have in common, you thought as you walked down the halls, looking for him.

you were wearing your favorite christmas/winter sweater and a very festive hat. it was the last day before break. everyone was in the festive season, even principal verge. that…that was a little unnerving.

but besides that, you were completely filled with joy. school is almost out, it’s the holiday season, and clapton—

oh, yea. clapton hasn’t showed up yet. that wasn’t unusual, but you had expected him to be here as it was the morning of your gift exchange. you always met up at the front of the school, a while before class started.

you hadn’t gotten him a whole lot. just a cd for this new artist he liked. you could barely keep up with how many he listened to. he was never big on receiving presents. but since it was your senior year, you wanted to do something special. yeah, that was the reason. not because you had slowly developed feelings for him, but because it was senior year.

…

yeah, you couldn’t even believe your own bullshit.

you hoped that he would notice your little splurge and take it as a hint. but who’re you kidding? this is clapton davis. he would need a lot more than that. just as you’re getting lost in thought, you feel a tap on your shoulder. the tap turns into a shove, and you now know who it is behind you.

“finally! looked like you were in some real deep thought, there.” clapton says.

“yeah, thinking about crazy things, like where the hell you are since you’re two minutes late.” you respond, holding up your phone and showing the time. nothing could get past you.

he loved that about you.

“oh, i’m sorry. do you not want this gift basket that i totally haven’t been working on for the past day?” he asks with a tone and smile that makes you want to punch him in the face and kiss him all at the same time.

it takes you a moment to register what he’s even holding up.

it’s a relatively small bag with tissue in it, but you can see some of the gifts peeking out of it. the fact there’s even multiple things surprises you. and clapton realizes that.

“yeah, i kind of went overboard. i just…wanted to do something, uh, special.”

you take it from him, your mouth still open from surprise and genuine happiness. you’re about to look inside as you remember that there’s a gift for him inside your backpack. now you’re starting to feel like your present isn’t as good as you thought it was. you take out the cd and hand it to him.

“well, here you go. i know it isn’t much, but i wanted to do something special too, y’know? sorry if it’s—“

but he cuts you off.

“it’s great—amazing. i love it. thank you.”

and you can tell he says it with meaning. the smile, his tone, everything. god, this boy was going to be the death of you if neither of you didn’t fess up.

“well, don’t just stand there. open your gift!” he says, enthusiastically.

you smile at him, and begin to pull out the tissue. one by one, you start to pull out the myriad of gifts. your favorite candy, your favorite snacks. the usual. then, the real gifts stared to appear. hair bands, since he knew you lost so many, your favorite band cassette, and a bracelet he knew you had wanted for forever. your smile grows wider and wider as each gift comes out of the bag.

clapton’s standing there anxiously, waiting to see what you’ll say.

you reach the end of the bag, and find an envelope with your name on it. before you can open it, clapton’s already taking it out of your hand.

“don’t read that yet!” he yells, almost a little too loud.

you’re a bit taken aback by his response. what was so sensitive that he had to quite literally snatch it out of your hand? it couldn’t be what you were thinking, right?

“i mean, don’t—not yet. it’s special. for later.” he says, stuttering through the sentence and handing the letter back to you.

not sure how to respond, you let out a small “okay, then.” before standing awkwardly in silence.

“thank you,” you say. “for the gifts. i can tell you put a lot of thought into them.” you cross your arms across your chest as you say this.

visibly, clapton’s anxiety dissipates and it looks like a weight has lifted off of his shoulders.

“good, because I don’t know what I would do if you hated it.” he responds. you both laugh at this. thank god, the awkward moment has passed. “about the letter—“ he starts, but you’re quick to cut him off. “oh no, i get it. can’t have me getting all sentimental around you, huh?” you joke. he’s grateful you handled that situation, he probably would’ve just made it worse.

“i’ll catch you later?” clapton asks.

“definitely.” you say, smiling.

the bell rings, signaling that school is starting. dammit, has it really been that much time already?

as you both part to your separate classes, you can’t help but feel curious about why he was so insistent on you not reading the letter. it couldn’t have been that bad, right? as you slowly walk to class, your curiosity gets the best of you, and you take out the envelope, open it, unfold the piece of paper, and begin reading. at first, it’s simple.

“merry christmas. i hope you liked the basket. you better, because…because i’m your best friend. anyways, hope you like this.

-your best friend, clapton”

it’s written in surprisingly good hand writing, but in small letters, you can barely make out the words “flip the page”. interesting. maybe it’s a stupid p.s. or something. but you’re quickly mistaken, because as you flip the page, you realize this is no additional information. it’s enough words to fill an essay.

you read the whole thing, every single syllable.

you were sure that you had read it wrong the first time. so you read it a second time. . . and a third time. . .and a fourth time. nothing about it had changed. it still had the same ending.

“i’m pretty sure i’m in love with you.” it said.

fuck class. class could wait.

you had to find clapton.

part 2! ☆

[camisoledadparis]

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … December 17

Paul Cadmus - portrait by Luigi Lucioni

1904 – Paul Cadmus (d.1999), American painter, is best known for the satiric innocence of his frequently censored paintings of burly men in skin-tight clothes and curvaceous women in provocative poses, but he also created works that celebrate same-sex domesticity.

Born in New York City on December 17, 1904 into a family of commercial artists, Cadmus studied at the National Academy of Design and the Arts Students League. He lived in Europe from 1931 to 1933, where he traveled with artist Jared French and where he produced his first mature canvases.

In the 1930s, Cadmus became the center of a circle of gay men who were prominent within the arts in New York City. This circle included his brother-in-law, Lincoln Kirstein, who helped found the American School of Ballet, and the photographer George Platt Lynes, for whom Cadmus frequently modeled.

In the 1930s, Cadmus used caricature, satire, and innuendo to veil the homoeroticism of his subjects, which radically pushed at the boundaries of acceptability. Cadmus's 1933 painting The Fleet's In! was selected for inclusion in a show at the Corcoran Gallery of Art in Washington, and in 1934 it placed him at the center of a public controversy.

The Fleet's In

Like many of his early works, the painting is ostensibly heterosexual in its depiction of sailors flirting with young women, who may be prostitutes, but it nevertheless manages to suggest a homosexual exchange between a well-dressed civilian, who sports a red tie, a widely recognized signal of homosexuality from the turn of the twentieth century, and a sailor to whom he offers a cigarette.

The painting's homoerotic subtext led to its removal after the opening of the exhibition. Frequently cited as one of the earliest incidents of government censorship, the removal of the painting was almost certainly motivated by homophobia.

Cadmus's painting Coney Island (1935) also became the subject of controversy. Its portrayal of local residents engaged in provocative (heterosexual) antics enraged Brooklyn realtors, who threatened to file a civil suit against the Whitney Museum of American Art.

Similarly, his commission for the Port Washington post office was also scandalous and was cancelled: the mural he produced, Pocahontas and John Smith (1938), so emphasizes the buttocks and genitals of the Native Americans that it obscures the subject, which is the rescue of John Smith.As a result of Cadmus's notoriety, his 1937 exhibition at Midtown Galleries in New York attracted more than 7,000 visitors.

Other early works of particular interest for their homoeroticism are YMCA Locker Room (1933), Shore Leave (1933), and Greenwich Village Cafeteria (1934). Like The Fleet's In!, these works also document homosexual cruising and seduction.

In Cadmus's paintings, significant exchanges of glances signal sexual longing and availability, often in the very midst of mundane activities. His work documents the surreptitious cruising rituals of an urban, gay male subculture in the 1930s.

Cadmus's painting What I Believe (1947-1948) was inspired by E.M. Forster's essay of the same name, in which the novelist expresses his faith in personal relations and his concept of a spiritual aristocracy "of the sensitive, the considerate, and the plucky. Its members are to be found in all nations and classes, and all through the ages, and there is a secret understanding between them when they meet. They represent the true human condition, the one permanent victory of our queer race over cruelty and chaos."

What I Believe

Cadmus's allegorical painting, which depicts such figures as Forster and Christopher Isherwood in Socratic poses, makes clear his intellectual allegiance to the humanism that Forster depicted as gravely threatened by fascism.

In still other later works, such as The Bath (1951) and The Haircut (1986), Cadmus explores the joys of his long-term relationship with his partner and model, Jon Andersson. These paintings are particularly touching in their illustration of an entirely ordinary but rarely depicted subject: the domesticity of a same-sex couple.

Although he stopped painting towards the end of his life, Cadmus continued to draw at his home in Weston, Connecticut, particularly portraits and figure studies of Andersson, his favorite model and companion of 35 years.

Cadmus died on December 12, 1999, five days shy of his 95th birthday.

Tony Tavarossi and bike

1933 – Homo-masculine proto-leatherman Tony Tavarossi (d.1981) was a native San Franciscan who was as important to gay liberation history in San Francisco as his contemporary, the drag-queen politician José Sarria.

He came out at the age of twelve under the tables (literally) in the curtained booths of the South China Café at l8th and Castro streets. He nick-named himself "Tony"; his birth name was Elloyd Tavarossi.

He was a “walking oral historian” who in his own personal history set in motion a “domino effect” in gay liberation history:

Tony Tavarossi founded San Francisco’s first bike bar or leather bar, the Why Not? (1960), where he was himself arrested for propositioning an undercover cop, thus closing the Why Not? in a raid that was a rehearsal for the police raid on the Tay-Bush lnn (1961) which emboldened Chuck Arnett to hire Tony in opening the legendary Tool Box bar (1961) which, as a symbol of masculine mutiny, fortified the gay resolve to found the Tavern Guild (1962) to protect gay citizens from harassment by the San Francisco Police Department.

Tony Tavarossi said later that the gay bar scene in 1966 was a riot led by a mixed crowd of Levis-wearing leathermen, straight-trade hustlers (many of them ex-Gls from World War II and Korea), and tough drag queens.

He died of AIDS ]u1y 12, 1981, two days after the epic fire that destroyed the Barracks baths on Folsom Street, putting an end to the turbulent 1970s.

1939 – James Booker was a New Orleans rhythm and blues keyboardist born in New Orleans, Louisiana, United States. Booker's unique style combined rhythm and blues with jazz standards. Musician Dr. John described Booker as "the best black, gay, one-eyed junkie piano genius New Orleans has ever produced." Flamboyant in personality, he was known as "the Black Liberace."

Booker was the son and grandson of Baptist ministers, both of whom played the piano. He spent most of his childhood on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, where his father was a church pastor. Booker received a saxophone as a gift from his mother, but he was more interested in the keyboard. He played the organ in his father's churches.

After returning to New Orleans in his early adolescence, Booker attended the Xavier Academy Preparatory School. He learned some elements of his keyboard style from Tuts Washington and Edward Frank. Booker was highly skilled in classical music and played music by Bach and Chopin, among other composers. He also mastered and memorized solos by Erroll Garner and Liberace. His performances combined elements of stride, blues, gospel and Latin piano styles.

Booker made his recording debut in 1954 on the Imperial Records label, with "Doin' the Hambone" and "Thinkin' 'Bout My Baby", produced by Dave Bartholomew. This led to some session work with Fats Domino, Smiley Lewis, and Lloyd Price.

In 1958, Arthur Rubinstein performed a concert in New Orleans. Afterwards, eighteen-year-old Booker was introduced to the concert pianist and played several tunes for him. Rubinstein was astonished, saying "I could never play that ... never at that tempo" During this period, Booker also became known for his flamboyant personality among his peers.

After recording a few other singles, he enrolled as an undergraduate in Southern University's music department. In 1960, Booker's "Gonzo" reached number 43 on the United States (U.S.) record chart of Billboard magazine and number 3 on the R&B record chart. Following "Gonzo", Booker released some moderately successful singles. In the 1960s, he started using illicit drugs, and in 1970 served a brief sentence in Angola Prison for drug possession. At the time, Professor Longhair and Ray Charles were among his important musical influences.

As Booker became more familiar to law enforcement in New Orleans due to his illicit drug use, he formed a relationship with District Attorney Harry Connick Sr., who was occasionally Booker's legal counsel. Connick would discuss law with Booker during his visits to the Connick home and made an arrangement with the musician whereby a prison sentence would be nullified in exchange for piano lessons for Connick Sr.'s son Harry Connick Jr.Booker recorded a number of albums while touring Europe in 1977, including New Orleans Piano Wizard: Live!, which was recorded at his performance at the "Boogie Woogie and Ragtime Piano Contest" in Zurich, Switzerland – the album won the Grand Prix du Disque. He also played at the Nice and Montreux Jazz Festivals in 1978 and recorded a session for the BBC during this time. Fourteen years later, a recording entitled Let's Make A Better World! –made in Leipzig during this period– became the last record to be produced in the former East Germany.

In a 2013 interview, filmmaker Lily Keber, who directed a documentary on Booker, provided her perspective on Booker's warm reception in European nations such as Germany and France:

Well, the racism wasn't there, the homophobia wasn't there –as much. Even the drug use was a little more tolerated. But really I think that Booker felt he was being taken seriously in Europe, and it made him think of himself differently and improved the quality of his music. He needed the energy of the audience to feed off.

Booker died aged 43 on November 8, 1983, while seated in a wheelchair in the emergency room at New Orleans' Charity Hospital, waiting to receive medical attention. The cause of death, as cited in the Orleans Parish Coroner's Death Certificate, was renal failure related to chronic abuse of heroin and alcohol.

Cashman with Paul Cottingham

1950 – Michael Cashman, born in London, is a British former actor, and a Labour politician. He has been a Member of the European Parliament for the West Midlands constituency since 1999.

As a child actor he was cast in the role of Oliver Twist in the original run of Lionel Bart's musical Oliver!, but he is possibly best known for his role as Colin Russell in BBC TV's EastEnders - a character remembered for being a participant in the first gay kiss in a British soap opera. He also appeared in the ITV drama serial The Sandbaggers and the Doctor Who story "Time-Flight".

Cashman was a founder of Stonewall, an Honorary Associate of the National Secular Society and a Patron of The Food Chain, a London-based HIV charity.He is a trenchant critic of discrimination against minorities within the European Union. He is leading a cross-party coalition to tackle the rise in homophobia throughout Europe. He has in the past supported the gay pride march in Warsaw, which he attended. He is also the President of the European Parliament's Intergroup on gay and lesbian issues.

In 2007 he was awarded an honorary doctorate from the University of Staffordshire for his human rights work.

In line with current guidelines the European Parliament paid his domestic partner, Paul Cottingham, £30,000 per annum for his work as Cashman's "Accounts Manager, Personnel Manager and Payroll Administrator". Cashman registered a civil partnership with Paul Cottingham, his partner for 31 years, on 11 March 2006.

In March 2011 Cottingham was diagnosed with a very rare cancer, angiosarcoma, and he died on 23 October 2014 in the Royal Marsden Hospital, London. He was cremated in a humanist service at the City of London Cemetery on 7 November 2014.

Cashman was appointed Commander of the Order of the British Empire (CBE) in the 2013 New Year Honours for public and political service.

On 23 September 2014 he was created a Life Peer taking the title Baron Cashman, of Limehouse in the London Borough of Tower Hamlets, which is also his birthplace.

1959 – Gregg Araki is an American independent filmmaker. He is involved in New Queer Cinema.

Araki made his directorial debut in 1987 with Three Bewildered People in the Night. With a budget of only $5,000 and using a stationary camera, he told the story of a romance between a video artist, her sweet-heart and her gay friend.

Two years later, Araki made a name for himself on the festival circuit with The Long Weekend (O' Despair). Produced, directed, written, photographed and edited by Araki (for his own Desperate Pictures Company), this very small-scale Big Chill derivation involved a group of recent college graduates brooding over their futures during one woozy, boozy evening.

He followed this up in 1992 with The Living End, a road movie about two HIV-positive men whose paths cross one fateful day and the tumultuous relationship which ensues. Premiering at the Sundance Film Festival, the film was nominated for the Grand Jury Prize.

Araki's next three films comprised his "Teenage Apocalypse Trilogy."

Totally Fucked Up (1993) (Totally F***ed Up in publicity) chronicled the dysfunctional lives of six gay adolescent people who have formed a family unit and struggle to get along with each other and with life in the face of various major obstacles.

The Doom Generation (1995) was a black comedy brimming with graphic violence, cultural symbolism and relentless eroticism. While largely trashed by critics, the piece won a measure of respect in a number of circles and is available on DVD and VHS in both rated and unrated versions due to several sex scenes as well as the violent climax.

Araki's next venture was the ill-fated MTV series This Is How the World Ends (2000), which was meant to have a budget of $1.5 million. The network only gave him $700,000 and hoped to find partners to finance the difference. Araki offered to make the pilot episode for $700,000, and MTV took him up on it, but after the pilot was shot it was not picked up for broadcast.

Nowhere (1997) was described by its director as "A Beverly Hills, 90210 episode on acid". It centered around a group of bored, alienated adolescent people in Los Angeles during a typical day of kinky sex, drugs, and the requisite wild party.

Following a short hiatus, Araki returned with the critically acclaimed Mysterious Skin (2004) based on a novel by Scott Heim, which tells the story of a teenage hustler and a withdrawn young man obsessed with alien abductions, and how they both deal with the sexual abuse they suffered from their Little League coach when they were children.

Araki self-identified as gay until 1997, when he entered a relationship with actress Kathleen Robertson, whom he directed in Nowhere. The relationship ended in 1999. Araki has since mainly dated men. He now identifies as bisexual.

1968 – Fabrice Neaud, born in La Rochelle, France, is a French comics artist. He got his baccalaureate in literature (option graphic arts) in 1986. He studied philosophy during two years. Then he entered an art school and studied there four years. In 1991 he quit the school. For four years he had been looking for a job, making a living on various works.

He is a co-founder of the Ego comme X association. In 1994, the first number of the Ego comme X magazine was released. In it, Fabrice Neaud published his first works. It was the beginning of his Journal (which is a diary in comics), an ambitious autobiographical project. The first volume of the Journal was released in 1996. It got a prize Alph'art (best work by a young artist) in Angoulême in 1997.

From an entry in his Journal

Fabrice Neaud keeps on drawing his Journal. Three more volumes have been published between 1998 and 2002. He published also many short stories in Ego comme X, Bananas and other magazines. Some of his works have been translated into Italian and Spanish. A reviewer notes, "But Neaud isn't a simple diarist: he's also an artist concerned with various problems of our society, including homophobia and gay life in small towns." His works have been the subject of academic papers.

2007 The Parliament of Hungary gives the same rights to registered partners as to spouses with some exceptions: adoption, IVF access, surrogacy, and taking a surname.

[givemearmstopraywith]

according to recent data collected by the copernicus sentinel-1 satellete, the iof has dropped more than ten thousand airstrikes on gaza as of 10 december.

the iof's main strike aircraft are capable of carrying six tons of bombs each.

for context, during the blitz london was hit by 19,000 tons of bombs. the three day firestorm that obliterated dresden was around 3000 tons. the bombs dropped on hiroshima and nagasaki were equivalent to 15,000 tons and 25,000 tons each (this does not account for the radioactive fallout obviously absent from other firebombings.)

the destruction of gaza is the worst of any twentieth century conflict to date.