#brenda walker
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Emmerdale 10.01.24 Part 1
In the Cafe Aaron is entertaining Eve by having a tea party fit for a princess, Brenda who is herself struggling with the grief of the recent death of her stepson Heath, notices Eve's tiara and tells Aaron he's a good brother.
While still with Eve in the café Aaron receives a phone call from a agitated Mackenzie who is impatiently waiting for Aaron to arrive as their car stealing antics are set to continue. But Aaron's big brother duties are delaying Aaron.
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Round 2
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Emmerdale Fashion | 06/12/16
#emmerdale#victoria sugden#myedfash#rr061216#rr16#(jun 2016)#holly barton#brenda walker#tvcos#emms#emm cafe#pub#gifset
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the kind of love that's most at home in the kitchen
911 s7e04 "Buck, Bothered and Bewildered"// "Cupboard love: my biggest romances always begin in the kitchen" by Ella Risbridger // 911 s7e10 "All Fall Down" // "Unlikely Lovers" from Falsettos // "Leftovers" by Trista Mateer // "A Matter of Taste" by Steve Walker // "Little Miss Why So" by The Amazing Devil // "Food" by Brenda Hillman // a waffle my best friend made for me // "Eat Up: Food, Appetite and Eating What You Want" by Ruby Tandoh // "The Horror and the Wild" by The Amazing Devil // "Onions" by William Matthews
#bucktommy#web weaving#evan buck buckley#tommy kinard#911 abc#falsettos#the amazing devil#steve walker#ella risbridger#trista mateer#brenda hillman#ruby tandoh#william matthews#kitchen#love#food#mlm#parallels#(hey man isn't it poetic??)#(my stuff)
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a mary macdonald moodboard with all 70s pics! part 1 of 1 million since i'm doing these for basically every character
#my posts#my moodboards#vintage hp moodboards#<- tags i will be using for these#lol remember when i said i started doing these? me neither it was soooo long ago. i think february#anyway i'm committing to post at least some of them now!#featuring brenda sykes and diana ross and joyce walker and evelyn champagne king. and watermarkremover.io#mary macdonald#hp#mary macdonald aesthetic#mary macdonald moodboard#marauders#marauders era#marauders era moodboard#marauders moodboard#marauders aesthetic#hp fandom#hp aesthetic#hp moodboard#harry potter#marauders fandom#mwpp era#atyd
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Up there we got Brenda walking on a tightrope while george is worry about her
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Up next on my 90's Fest Movie 🎬 🎞 🎥 🎦 📽 marathon...Home Alone 2: Lost In New York (1992) on glorious vintage VHS 📼! #Movie #movies #comedy #Christmas #homealone #homealone2 #homealone2lostinnewyork #MacaulayCulkin #JohnHeard #RIPJohnHeard #catherineohara #joepesci #danielstern #DevinRatray #angelagoethals #KeiranCulkin #allysheedy #timcurry #RobSchneider #danaivey #DonaldTrump #gerrybamman #brendafricker #EddieBracken #annaslotky #hillarywolf #jedidiahcohen #SentaMoses #jimmiewalker #riptaylor #ripriptaylor #michaelcmaronna #vintage #VHS #90s #90sfest #durandurantulsas4thannual90sfest
#home alone#home alone 2#home alone 2 lost in new york#macaulay culkin#john heard#rip john heard#Catherine O'Hara#joe pesci#Daniel Stern#devin ratray#ally sheedy#gerry bamman#tim curry#dana ivey#rob schneider#Donald Trump#jimmie walker#keiran culkin#angela goethals#Hillary Wolf#brenda fricker#eddie bracken#anna slotky#vhs#90s#90s fest#duran duran tulsa's 4th annual 90s fest#Spotify
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The Color Purple Trailer
The Color Purple is the story of three woman who share an unbreakable bond.
The Color Purple stars Taraji P. Henson (Shug Avery), Danielle Brooks (Sofia), Colman Domingo (Mister), Corey Hawkins (Harpo), H.E.R. (Squeak), Halle Bailey (Young Nettie), Phylicia Pearl Mpasi (Young Celie), Fantasia Barrino (Celie), and Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor (Mama).
Blitz Bazawule directs The Color Purple from a screenplay by Marcus Gardley. The movie is based on the novel of the same name by Alice Walker and the musical stage play and book of the stage play by Marsha Norman. Music and lyrics are by Brenda Russell, Allee Willis, and Stephen Bray. The film is produced by Oprah Winfrey, Steven Spielberg, Scott Sanders, and Quincy Jones. Executive producers on the film are Alice Walker, Rebecca Walker, Kristie Macosko Krieger, Carla Gardini, Mara Jacobs, Adam Fell, Courtenay Valenti, Sheila Walcott, and Michael Beugg.
The Color Purple releases to theaters on December 25, 2023.
#color purple#taraji p henson#danielle brooks#colman domingo#corey hawkins#h.e.r.#halle bailey#phylicia pearl mpasi#fantasia barrino#aunjanue ellis-taylor#blitz bazawule#marcus gardley#alice walker#marsha norman#brenda russell#allee willis#stephen bray#warner bros#TGCLiz
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#CountryMusic
CMT 12-23-23 (Hot Twenty Holiday Countdown)
So today I will be bringing you what CMT (Country Music Television) chose to play for us on 12/23/23. So let's get started right now.
Anne Wilson with Josh Turner - The manger. Hailey Whitters - New baby for Christmas. Dan + Shay - Christmas isn't Christmas. Brett Eldredge - The first Noel. Madeline Edwards - Perfect Christmas. Lady A - Christmas through your eyes. Darius Rucker - What God wants for Christmas. Darren Criss featuring Lainey Wilson - Drunk for Christmas. Brett Eldredge - Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow! Gwen Stefani featuring Blake Shelton - You make it feel like Christmas. Carrie Underwood - Stretchy pants. Pistol Annies - Come on Christmas time (Live performance). Keith Urban - I'll be your Santa tonight. Kacey Musgraves - What are you doing New Year's Eve? Kelly Clarkson with Trisha Yearwood & Reba McEntire - Silent night. Alan Jackson - I only want you for Christmas. Chris Janson - Holiday road. Jon Pardi - Beer for Santa. Kenny Rogers with Wynonna - Mary did you know. Walker Hayes - Fancy like Christmas. Taylor Swift - Christmas tree farm. Brenda Lee - Rockin' around the Christmas tree.
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And that's a wrap for what Holiday hits CMT (Country Music Television) chose to play for us today. And thanks to CMT for doing their weekly Country Music Video Countdowns. And thanks as well goes out to you for taking the time to read this weekly list. See ya all next time.
#Brenda Lee#Taylor Swift#Walker Hayes#Kenny Rogers#Wynonna#Jon Pardi#Chis Janson#Alan Jackson#Kelly Clarkson#Trisha Yearwood#reba mcentire#kacey musgraves#Keith Urban#Pistol Annies#carrie underwood#gwen stefani#blake shelton#brett eldredge#Darren Criss#Lainey Wison#darius rucker#Lady A#Madeline Edwards#Dan + Shay#hailey whitters#Anne Wilson#Josh Turner#Hot Twenty Holiday Countdown#CMT#CMT 2023
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Round 1
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Thirty Minute Theatre: Not Counting the Savages (BBC, 1972)
"I didn't look round, of course, but when I went round to tidy the other side of the grave, I... became aware of a man standing up against the wire fence. At first I thought that he'd caught his handkerchief or something white on it, and then I realised what it was."
"What?"
"He was exposing himself. Exposing himself to me."
"Well, you've seen one before."
"But I was... I was terribly upset. You can't know how distressed I was! I still am."
"Why? You're an old woman. Why should you be upset? It was play-acting. You're an old woman."
#thirty minute theatre#not counting the savages#b.s. johnson#single play#1972#mike newell#hugh burden#brenda bruce#william hoyland#fiona walker#of all the drama anthologies to come out of the 60s and 70s (arguably the golden age of the form) Thirty Minute Theatre was perhaps the#most experimental; its short format lent itself to producing less safe material by untested writers‚ and it was described as a kind of#training ground for young scriptwriters who might then advance to more respectable productions. it's also perhaps the worst served in terms#of archive holdings: of the 291 episodes broadcast between 1965 and 1973‚ some 241 are missing‚ considered forever lost in the great yellow#skip of discarded tv material. so it's something rather special to have one of the comparatively rare survivors made available for viewing#even if (as in this case) the circumstances of its survival have rendered it quite a sad looking specimen. Savages exists thanks to an off#air recording made on its first (and probably only) broadcast in 1972; home video was an extremely rare and costly thing then‚ and not as#technologically advanced as it would become‚ but a copy of this play survived in the effects of its author‚ the great postmodern novelist#BS Johnson. it's rough looking‚ a slightly faded black and white tape (it would have transmitted in crisp colour) and bears some#significant damage in places as well as a persistent humming on the soundtrack. but it is a miracle. it is a surviving piece of work from#a hugely significant artist who made precious few works before his untimely death. the play itself is a challenging one‚ an enigmatic but#sometimes frustratingly opaque piece about a family filled with resentments and hatreds that are never explained. Burden (whose casting#apparently deeply upset Johnson‚ who felt him entirely wrong for the role‚ and led to a rift between writer and director Newell) is what#we might call our protagonist‚ a husband and father who has somehow earned the enmity of his children and whose own strange behaviour (he#eats nearly constantly through the play‚ in a quite unpleasant manner; he's also needlessly dismissive of his wife's anguish over an#encounter with a flasher) alienates the viewer. there are subtle seeds planted of possible abuse in the children's history and of financial#disagreements in the present‚ but Johnson denies us a clear context for the attitudes and behaviours of his characters and in doing so#produces a work that is as uncomfortable as it is fascinating. a final reveal that Burden is also a skilled and humane surgeon only muddies#the waters further‚ challenging our view of the grotesque figure we've seen casually fencing with his family members (who are themselves#none too sympathetic figures). this was Johnson's penultimate work for tv before he sadly took his own life. what pure joy that it exists
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The Seed is Strong
"Alright fuel up troops! We got more work to do after this." Mr. Walker dumped the contents of the large paper bag he held onto the table, scattering plastic forks, soy sauce packets, and fortune cookies. One cookie skittered across the table coming to rest directly across from Alex.
"Look at that," his colleague Levi said clapping Alex on the shoulder. "It's fate you gotta eat it now!"
"Really? Alex asked nervously. "But I haven't even had my meal yet, and what if there aren't enough for everyone."
Levi rolled his eyes. "I think it will be ok Best Buy. Just eat the damn cookie." Alex nodded and pinched both sides of the crinkly plastic, pulling it apart with his meager strength and freeing the cookie inside. The nickname “Best Buy" was a reference to Alex's job in IT and was one of the tamer things he had been called in his life. Fresh out of college with a computer science degree Alex wasn't exactly a loser but he also wasn't the envy of many. His life was painfully mundane, except for what he had done last year, he shivered at the thought.
All through college Alex had a girlfriend named Stephanie. He thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with her until he got his heart broken. In an attempt to cheer him up Alex's idiot friend had gotten him a hooker. He had ended up mostly just crying in her lap but at the end of the night, the two had rather pathetic cry sex. The memory still haunted him.
Alex broke the fortune cookie in half and fished for the piece of paper resting in one of the halves. His lucky numbers weren't of much interest although 5 of the 6 numbers were prime. Neat! The words on the front made much less sense.
"The seed is strong," It said in simple black text.
"The seed is strong?" What the hell does that mean Alex thought to himself trying to puzzle it out? As in the earth? Was it saying he was going to have a good harvest? Or maybe it was a metaphor, to say that the good he did would become a seed and flourish that way? The whole thing was far too cryptic for math and science-minded Alex and yet the words somehow felt resonant, right.
Levi leaned over Alex's shoulder to try and see what message had been inside the cookie. "The seed is strong." Alex read for him seeing his coworker could puzzle it out.
"Yeah man, I know that's right!" Levi said a grin spreading across his face. He extended his hand in the way of the former frat bro expecting Alex to dap him up. Alex was not versed in those foreign ways and so ended up shaking his coworker's hand awkwardly. Levi smirked but turned away so Alex wouldn't see him laugh.
Alex didn't have time to dwell on Levi's reaction or the awkwardness of the interaction as Delana, Mr. Walker's assistant began to call out orders. "Who got the beef and broccoli?"
Five minutes later a steaming box of orange chicken sat open in front of Alex. Yet despite the food, Alex found his mind wandering. "The seed is strong" "The seed is strong" What could it mean? And why did his groin feel weird? He felt a strange heaviness that he was not used to. Alex adjusted his legs trying to give more room for his package to breathe. Yet the pressure only built. Suddenly his off-the-rack trousers felt horribly constricting.
As subtly, as he could Alex examined his pants and found a bulge protruding from his crotch, the size of which he wasn't used to. His immediate thought was of a cancerous tumor but he didn't think those grew spontaneously. No this felt like well, like his balls were bigger. Much bigger. But that was impossible, right?
The seed is strong.
NO
That couldn't be what it meant. Were fortune cookies allowed to be explicit? It would explain Levi's reaction. But no there had to be some other explanation. He was saved from his introspection by Brenda in accounting who waved him over.
"Hey there Alex, it seems I'm having some computer troubles."
Brenda had her caps locked on.
"Glad I could help Brenda," Alex said graciously. It was not the first time she had made this mistake.
"Thanks again. Guess it's back to the old grindstone." The company had been audited which meant all hands on deck.
"Hopefully we can get this done by 5:00," Alex said starting to make his way back to his seat at the other side of the conference room.
"I sure hope so, gotta pick up the kids pretty soon. What about you Alex, got your kids covered?" Alex's eyes bugged so far out of his head that he was afraid they would fall out of his head and roll around on the carpeted floor. His mind was at war with itself. Most of him was loudly screaming that of course he didn't have kids, he wasn't even married. Yet a small voice said differently.
The seed is strong
He had three kids, two from his college girlfriend and one from Debby the sex worked he had slept with. No no no that wasn't right that couldn't be. He wasn't a father. He always used protection and besides he couldn't support a family on an IT salary. Yet Alex couldn't get the faces out of his head. Two toddlers a boy and a girl and a newborn baby.
In a panic, Alex burst out of the conference room and rushed into the men's bathroom. He tried to splash cold water on his face like in the movies but just ended up with water in his nose and stains on his shirt. Checking to make sure no one was in the stalls Alex undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and pulled down the zipper.
Balls. What the fuck was wrong with his balls. They were huge, fist-sized swollen things.
The seed is strong.
No. Alex could feel them churning. Could feel his body producing seamen. Inside millions of sperm swam inside begging to be free. Begging to serve their purpose and impregnate. What the Fuck?
The seed is st-
NO. Alex put his pants back on not even bothering to tuck his shirt in. He left the bathroom and started walking not even sure to where. He ended up at his desk. Action figures in their boxes, iPad charging on the window, and framed photos of his children. That was new. That couldn't be. And yet the physicality of it made the reality undeniable. His children.
The seed is strong.
Of course, he had children. For men with the last name Holden like himself, it was practically inevitable. Oh sure, you could try your best, birth control, and condoms for the whole nine yards. Yet very few things can stop the seamen of the Holdens. His father always said their swimmers just kept on swimming, that's why all the men of his family had such large balls. The hyper virility of their family accounted for why Alex was the youngest of 9 children, his poor mother. She often joked that his father was the most expensive fuck in the world, one night with him meant a mouth to feed for 18 years.
For a moment Alex had the image of himself as an only child but that was ridiculous. The seed was too strong for that.
Alex had tried to be careful, he really had. Yet the very first time he and his college girlfriend Stephanie had slept together, taking each other's virginity, she had ended up with a positive pregnancy test two weeks later. He had apologized profusely and suggested they might get rid of the child but Stephanie was religious and insisted on keeping it. Thus his first son, Liam, was born to an 18-year-old father and mother. Parenting in college was tricky but the two made it work.
While Stephanie was pregnant the two had been able to be intimate, with some care of course. Yet once she gave birth Alex knew they had to stop. He had tried to explain the risks, that no matter how much protection they used the seed was strong. Stephanie hadn't believed and so their second child was born only 10 months after their first. Her name was Lila and she was a fussy enough baby that Stephanie took his words seriously. The two had parented together all throughout college and still remained close but the lack of intimacy doomed the relationship ultimately.
Alex resigned himself to never having another sexual encounter after Stephanie, two kids was enough for him. That was until his friend hired a hooker. Her name was Debby. He had explained to her his plight and maybe cried a little, feeling down from a lack of intimacy. She had understood and offered to let Alex do butt stuff instead, something Stephanie had never allowed. Alex was all too happy to take her up on that offer and the two had gotten intimate. Alex was thrilled thinking he had found a loophole. That was until he got a call from Debby telling him he was going to have another child. He wasn't sure exactly how it worked. Maybe some of his spunk had somehow dripped down or maybe his sperm were so enthusiastic that they had swam the distance. Whatever the case Alex ended up a father of three from two different women.
Ding
Alex got a text on his phone from someone named Christopher. "Miss your seed baby."
What the hell? Who is Christopher? He almost texted that exact question to the number before he saw that this wasn't their first text. In fact, as he scrolled up and up and up it seemed their conversation went on seemingly forever. Alex's cheeks reeded as he saw quite a few naughty pictures of this Christopher, a handsome man with a prominent backside, he found he quite liked the photograph. What's worse Alex saw his own pictures sent on Christopher's request, specifically close-up pictures of his huge balls.
Three dots appeared showing Christopher was typing again. "I need you to load me up, Daddy." This text was followed by two eggplant emoji and a squirt emoji. Whoever this Christopher was he sure was persistent. Of course, most of the men that Alex slept with grew somewhat addicted to his seed. Wait that's not right he wasn't gay?
The seed is strong
Of course, he was. Or at least he slept with exclusively men now. It was being with Debby that had made him realize. His dick just felt right sitting in the tight confines of an ass. That moment of self-discovery had been life-changing for Alex. He had gone on something of a sexual rampage after that. It felt so good to be able to finally let loose and fuck with abandon. His seed yearned to be spread, and he had done so, thankfully without the risk of a new life emerging from it.
Christopher was the closest thing Alex had to a boyfriend, although he was more like a long-term fuck buddy. Christopher often joked about how the two had first met. He said he could smell Alex's potent seed from a mile away and that he followed the scent like a cartoon character, nose in the air feet off the ground.
Alex had been told he had a particular scent. It was his seed, of course, leaking from his balls like steam from hot soup. Not everyone had a nose for it, but to those who did it was like a drug. Christopher was something of a bloodhound for it.
One night when Christopher was going on and on about how much he loved Alex's seed and how good it smelled and tasted, like "the raw essence of a man" were his exact words, Alex had told him of his father. He was a waterfall to Alex's trickle. Their house used to reek of seed and testosterone, especially when the 7 boys of the family reached maturity and grew Holden balls. Christopher had cum on the spot. Ever since he had been begging to be invited to a family reunion.
Ding
Another text. Alex expected it to be Christopher with more pleading for his seed but instead, it was from Stephanie. A picture of their son, Liam, dressed in a football uniform standing on a grassy field. How cute, must be at one of his Little League games. Yet something felt off. As he stared at the pixels on his screen he could swear he watched them move, shift. The kid in the picture was far too old. He looked more like he was in middle school. No that wasn't a middle schooler in the picture, he had the body of a grown man, and was that a college logo on his uniform? Alex's eyes widened as he noticed the sizable bulge in the football pants. He shut off his phone.
The seed is strong.
Where was he? He had been at his desk, right? It was a tiny thing, shoved at the back of the office with no windows, mostly just a box for him to wait at until people could come to him with their IT concerns. Except he wasn't there now; no IT person had this nice of a setup. He was in a corner office, two walls made up entirely of glass, showing off the expansive city skyline that their tall building afforded. Alex blinked. His belongings were on the desk, mahogany rather than plywood. Action figures in their boxes, an iPad on the window, and pictures of his children in their frames. Liam and Lilia at their high school graduations and a picture of his youngest at prom, Brandon. It felt like just yesterday Debby had given birth to him, so why did that kid look so old?
"Mr. Holden they're on the line," Delana said poking her head into the office. Wasn't she Mr. Walker's assistant, his boss? But no he didn't have a boss, how could someone with an office this nice have a boss? Hesitantly Alex picked up the phone and was met with a cacophony of greetings.
"It's good to have some senior management on this call." A man said, voice slightly distorted from the phone.
"Yes thank you so much for your time, Alexander. We will be brief," said a woman who he felt like he should know.
The two went back and forth talking about shareholders and market strategy all of which went over his head. He instead spent his time scratching his balls which seemed to have swollen even larger. He would need to empty them soon. His seed was made to be spread and got impatient rather quickly. Maybe he would take Christopher up on his request. He could leave work a bit early today, who would stop the boss?
"Mr. Holden, are you still with us?"
"Oh umm yes yes. Everything sounds great keep up the good work." With that, he hung up the phone. He felt knowledge flooding into his brain, business experience, and social contacts that an IT person had no business knowing. Only he wasn't IT, he hired people to be his IT. He was the top dog of this company. The company that did"¦ he couldn't remember. He would do work tomorrow, right now he was feeling strangely out of sorts, like he didn't belong.
Alexander stood up on legs that felt too long. He had always been tall but now he felt like a lumbering giant. He was glad for his height, Liam and his other son Brandon were getting far too tall for his liking. Not quite the height of good old dad but definitely too tall for him to put them on his lap. Lila wasn't a slouch either, 5'10, and nearly her brother's height when she wore heels. The thought of his children made him smile, they really were his pride and joy. They had inherited his blond hair, did he have blond hair? Of course, he did, although it was turning silver with age. The rest of his siblings had dark hair like his father but he had inherited his mother's golden locks and passed them onto his children, along with his angular face and tall stature. That wasn't to say that the children didn't have anything from their other parents. Liam had his mother's heart-shaped face, freckles, and warm green eyes, while Lila had inherited Stephanie's wavy hair and intelligence. Brandon his youngest had gotten his other mother's darker complexion and her rebellious spark.
He was something of a bad boy. With tattoos up one arm a handsome face and the soul of a tortured artist, Alex always knew he would be swimming in sexual opportunities. He had tried to explain to him the Holden inheritance. Alex tried to give the same speech his father had, telling his youngest about the strong seed of their family. Alex hadn't listened and neither had Brandon, at least not until he had gotten two girls pregnant. He had been sticking to sex with men ever since, the perks of bisexuality, although Alex suspected there would be a few more grandchildren in his future before his youngest got it all out of his system.
It felt right to be a grandfather, although it seemed only a few hours ago he didn't even have children of his own.
The seed is strong.
Liam his oldest also had children. He was far more restrained than his younger brother though. Liam had settled down with a nice woman a few years older than him who had been married before. She had tried for children with her old husband but after years of trying had resigned herself to being unable to have children. That was until she was with a Holden man. Now they had three children and she was pregnant with a fourth. Liam had confessed to Alex that his wife had gotten pregnant the first time the two had ever been intimate which didn't surprise Alex in the slightest.
That left only Lila without children of her own. Where Liam had heart and Brandon had soul Lila had gotten all the brains. With a razor tongue and a mind for business, Alex suspected her only child would be the company she was building. Yet who was to say, maybe one day she would end up having children? If she had a boy someone would have to warn her to expect quite a few grandchildren of her own.
Alex- no Alexander made his way out of the office. He was far too dignified to go by a childhood nickname. Three grown children, how had he become an old man? He passed a mirror and examined his reflection. Square had handsome features, a tall frame, and muscles that pushed out his suit pleasingly. Maybe not quite an old man yet. He puffed up his substantial chest. How many grandfathers could bench 250 lbs?
Come to think of it all brothers currently could, even his oldest brother Mark, who was a great-grandfather at only age 60. Ha. Yet another thing passed on by the Holdens. High metabolism and the genetic potential for substantial musculature. Alex had always suspected it had something to do with their over-productive testicles pumping in an excess of testosterone, although Lila was surely no slouch. Alexander fondly remembered how she could beat both her brothers in arm wrestling contests as children whenever it was his turn to have custody of the kids.
Still, it was his sons who had inherited the rippling muscular physique of the Holden men. Liam was the larger of the two mostly due to playing football in high school and college. After he graduated Liam started taking his physique seriously and competed in a few bodybuilding shows. Alexander remembered the horror of realizing his 220 lbs son was bigger than him. That caused Alex to redouble his efforts at the gym. That coupled with the fact that Liam stopped competing after he settled down had restored Alexander to the top of the food chain where he belonged. That wasn't to say that Liam let himself go. Liam maintained an admirable body, one that he had confessed to his father made fitting in with the other dads difficult, a sentiment which Alexander could relate to.
"Dad, it's like every dude either wants to feel me up and ask me to be their personal trainer or takes it as an insult and acts like a dick". In Alexanders case, most of the dicks had ended up sucking his but that type of advice could never work for noble pure-hearted Liam. Brandon on the other hand rated perfectly to his father's more horny tendencies. While he didn't have his brother's brutish size Brandon was toned good arms adorned with plenty of tattoos and the abs that only a young man could have. He had done several perfume commercials displaying those abs and his notable bulge across billboards in Times Square to Alexander's shock and secret pride.
The seed is strong.
"Are you heading out Mr. Holden?" A young man holding a clipboard asks as Alexander makes his way to the elevator."
"I am Shayne. nature calls, I’m sure you understand." A wide grin split the youth's face and he nodded. Alexander had long suspected Shayne's lineage but looking at him now it seemed undeniable. Tall with a brawny build, Shayne had brown inquisitive eyes, short sandy blond hair, and a well-trimmed dirty blond beard covering his square jaw. To put it bluntly, he was the spitting image of Alexander in his youth. The final clue of course lay beneath the kids well ironed slacks.
Without violating company policy or his own ethical code as a boss Alexander had tried to check out his new intern's package. Sure enough, he had gotten confirmation at the urinal last week. The kid was sporting an abnormally large pair of balls that could only belong to a Holden man.
Alexander supposed he shouldn't be surprised. He had started being a sperm donor in college to make a little cash. One test of his seed and the clinic had been positively feral to milk him dry. Once he started moving up in the company the money had meant less to Alexander but he still would occasionally pay a visit to the clinic to donate. He liked the idea that he could help a woman struggling with fertility or allow someone to start a family without relying on a man. He would also be lying if he didn't think it a little hot they have a bunch of mini me's running around as well. His only request was to warn any potential sons of their fertility as odd as that seemed. With the amount he had donated Alexander was bound to come across one of his children at some point although it was still thrilling. It warmed his heart to think he had another son, and one who had grown up to be as responsible and respectful as Shayne.
He would have to ask Shayne about his father sometime or get him a DNA kit for the holidays. Something that might tip the kid off without coming on too strong. Just because they shared blood did not mean Alexander had a right to be part of his life yet if he would have him, Alexander would gladly have a relationship.
"We should be all good with preparing for the audit without you. Have a good night sir."
The elevator doors closed blocking sight of his potential son. Alexander took out his phone and brought up messages to Christopher. In the dark elevator, he had trouble reading the screen and even more trouble finding out how to raise the brightness. God if only he could trade his buffalo balls for some IT skills he joked to himself. Eventually, he figured it out and typed out a message.
"How could I refuse? My place in 20?"
Christopher sent a gif of a mouth watering then an emoji of a man running. Would it be so hard to type out a yes? Alexander wasn't worried about Christopher being busy. Besides the fact that he suspected the man would push his own mother off a cliff for the contents of Alexander's balls, he was also a writer, a job which gave him the luxury of making his own schedule. He mostly wrote YA fiction, some of which were quite well-known. His biggest series was all the rage when the kids were in their teens, meaning they had thought Christopher was the god on earth. Now though Christopher was working on something more adult. An erotica that he claimed was loosely based on his and Alexander's romance. He told the family proudly a few months back he was going to call it "The fountain of eternal cum". Alexander's PR team told him it would be a nightmare if it was published and Lila threatened to take a box cutter to her eyes, and ears too if an audiobook version came out. Still, Alexander had let the project continue, he thought it funny and maybe a little hot.
20 minutes later Alexander reached his building courtesy of his driver and made his way up to his penthouse apartment. Christopher was waiting for him splayed out on a $30,000 couch like a house cat.
"Smelled ya coming." He said, rising from his lounging position and making his way over to his lover. With practiced hands, he pulled Alexander in using his tie as a leach and placed one hand on his broad chest feeling the warmth of Alexander's body through the thin Oxford and undershirt.
When Alexander had first met Christopher he was something of a twink, young with ample curves and smooth skin. That had been over 20 years ago. Now Christopher was more the scruffy writer type, with a cute face adorned with a few wrinkles, thick glasses, and a layer of scraggly stubble. His body wasn't as tight as it had once been but Christopher still had enough in the back, where it really mattered. Alexander didn't begrudge his lover the changes of age. He wasn't the same muscle bull Christopher had fallen in love with either. While he had retained much of his size his age had left him sentimental, the wild bull, been tamed, although it still came out on occasion when his lover was involved.
"I needed this" Alexander purred leaning into the embrace and planting three long kisses onto Christopher's neck. Christopher pulled his head back savoring the touch. We need to get this off he said, peeling Alexander's suit jacket from his frame. Alexander's back and arms proved too large and made what might have been a sexy process rather unsexy as the two struggled to peel off the garment. Once that was done Christopher went to work on the buttons starting from the stop and working his way down until Alexander stood in an open shirt with only a white sleeveless undershirt beneath.
"Ugh, why do you wear so many clothes," Christopher said eager to get to his prize.
"I could say the same thing to you" Alexander rumbled. He took the opportunity to pull off Christopher's chunky cable knit sweater, a process Christopher assisted in by raising his arms. Alexander tried to make things more even by fully removing his button-up shirt but he was still left in a white tank top. His arms were thick solid things bulging with mature muscle, and the lower half covered a dusting of nearly transparent blond hair. His chest pushed out the undershirt significantly, then fell loose around his still mostly flat belly.
"Will you do the thing?" Christopher asked excitedly, a kid asking to go on a roller coaster again. Alexander plastered on a gracious smile then put both hands on either side of the shirt's collar and pulled. It ripped clean down the middle revealing his toned body. Christopher clapped and giggled then and went in for another kiss, their now shirtless bodies rubbing against one another. Alexander suspected hundreds of shirts over the years had perished to Christopher's "favorite trick" but it was worth it to see that look of glee on his face. Besides undershirts weren't particularly expensive, at least he assumed they weren't. His assistant did most of his shopping for him.
"Shall we take this to the bedroom Mr. Holden?" Christopher asked, knowing how formal talk turned Alexander on. In response, Alexander picked his smaller lover up in a fireman's carry and made its way across the penthouse to the bedroom. Along the way, they passed countless family photos framed on walls and coffee tables. Liam was the lead of the high school musical, Lila won the state debate championship, and Brandon posing proudly with graffiti art that spelled out his name. There were picnics and football games, thanksgiving dinners, and volunteering. Three smiling happy golden-haired children, all made from their father. Made from his potent seed, the seed Christopher was about to receive.
Alexander threw Christopher down on the bed and caused him to bounce on the springy mattress. With his manly hands, he gripped Christopher's pants and tried to force them over his voluptuous bottom, getting to his prize at all costs. He could have ripped them off nearly as easily as he had his shirt if not for Christopher's pleas about how much he loved these pants. It felt like it took forever for Christopher to undo his belt, unbutton his pants, and pull the zipper down, only then allowing Alexander to rip them off, taking underwear with it. Christopher had a respectable dick and balls that were he with a different company might be considered large. Yet when with a Holden man it was like comparing an ant to an elephant. Besides, there was really only one thing below the waist Alexander carried about. Not that he was a selfish lover, but rather the two after years of making love had experimented enough to know what they really wanted. "Roll over," he said breathily, his excitement getting the better of him. Now it was his turn to take the time with his pants.
Plop
His package flopped out into the open like a hot man to a pool. He looked down at his balls and for a moment they seemed obscene. Baseballs attached to the underside of a penis that really wasn't that remarkable.
The seed is strong.
9 inches was at the lower end for size in his family but he really didn't have anything to complain about. Yet another perk of being a Holden man. With their large balls, it only was natural that they have the dick to match. It was a subject less commonly talked about for obvious reasons yet Alexander was no idiot. He had seen his brothers dicks through their pants plenty of times and heard stories from their wives. And his children, well a father can't help but see these things even if he tries not to. Once back when Alexander had still been in college and with Stephanie his father, the patriarch of the family, had gotten a bit too drunk on old fashions and whiskey on the rocks. He had launched into a bit of a rant.
"Oh I had some big dicked brothers, but of all them, mine was the thickest. No, it wasn't the longest, that would be my brother Kendall. We used to call him pencils dick Kendall you know. Foot long but thin as a finger. Looked ridiculous with his big balls. He ended up having eight children though so I guess someone liked that pencil dick."
The whole family had erupted in laughter at that, much to Stephanie's horror and Alexander's delight. He had inherited that thickness, thickness which Christopher revealed in, tentatively licking the head from his ass up position before taking the whole thing in his mouth. Giving a blow job to someone of Alexander's size wasn't easy but Christopher had something like 20 years of practice. It wasn't just that he could take the whole thing that made Christoper blow jobs great, although that was nice. Rather it was the way he played with Alexander's balls, tickling them caressing them, even taking a break from his dick to suck on them. Alexander always thought he was trying to cut out the middleman and get right to the source of his addiction. He suspected his lover would hook up an IV bag of his seed to drip into his bloodstream if he had the supply.
After a few minutes Christopher got impatient. "I'm ready," he said excitedly turning to face away from Alexander and presenting his ass like a target for practice. Alexander took a bottle of lube from his bedside table and applied it generously to his dick and his lover's hole. There was no point in a condom, they both were clean and besides those did little against determined Holden spunk. Yet lube was essential even after all these years for accommodating his dick. Slowly he inserted his dick, being careful at first. Once he was halfway in Christopher gave him a nod and he sped up, ramming the rest of his member in and then pulling it out almost all the way out with a wet squish. Christopher moaned a high-pitched whine of pleasure and pleaded for more. As Alexander began to thrust he answered with his own sound, a mix between a bellow and a grunt. God, how did he keep his hole so tight?
"Harder" Christopher panted. Alexander went harder.
Harder!" Christopher said again. Alexander thrust with his hips impaling his partner with all his substantial strength. His full balls slammed against round butt cheeks, the sound keeping time with his thrusts.
"Harder daddy, breed me. Fucking breed me. Fill me with your seed till I have your fucking baby." Alexander gave it all he had. If Christopher wanted to be bred so bad then he was all too happy to oblige. He obliterated him, pulverized his fucking hole. Pleasured him so thoroughly he might never walk again. He showed his lover how he had created three children, the reason why his family was so prolific. The seed is strong. The seed is strong. The seed is strong.
"The seed is strong." He screamed as he climaxed. His vision went white as his balls emptied like a dam bursting. His dick became a fire hydrant for the torrent of seed that he pumped into Christopher. The two collapsed onto each other, sweaty bodies reveling in the heat, the smell, and the pleasure. They just sat there for a moment, slowly winding down from the passion of the experience. It had felt for a moment like those times back so long ago when Alexander had conceived his children. He knew even then as soon as he had climaxed his seed would quicken. He had felt it in his bones, in his balls. Only obviously that couldn’t be, a figment of his horny imagination perhaps.
With a start, Alexander realized his dick was still inside of Christopher, half hard and plugging his hole like a drain stopper. He removed himself with a popping sound and caused a torrent of cum to spill out of Christopher. Christopher reached around and scooped it up onto his hand before licking them clean and moaning like he had just had a cold cone in the summertime. He went in for a kiss and Alexander got a taste of his own seed. It was indeed strong, like raw masculinity. Salty musky and somehow sweet, Alexander understood why Christopher had developed a taste for it. He could somehow tell that every single swimming sperm in his mouth could create a child if given a chance, ones who would be as beautiful as the ones he had now. The thought made him feel like Chronos from Greek mythology gobbling up his children whole.
"Even more amazing than usual," Christopher said once the two had broken their kiss. "I swear Alexander you are a fine wine. You just get better with age." He excused himself to use the bathroom leaving Alexander lying alone on his spoiled sheets. It was funny how much sex defined his life. It was sex that had brought him his children, the lights of his life. Sex that had brought him Christopher, his life partner and husband. Even his business, the largest contraceptive company in the country. It would be quite the scandal if it came out that their CEO could bust right through their condoms with his seed. Alexander supposed it was inevitable that his life revolved around sex. He had always been told the seed was strong and had always taken it literally. Yet it went beyond hyperactive balls. The men of his family seemed practically bred to breed, with their faces and their bodies not the mention the dicks and strong libido, it was inevitable that the Holden men lived and breathed sex. He wondered what in the family's past had happened to create such a strong seed. Was there some kind of curse placed on their family by a disgruntled prehistoric witch? Or maybe one of Alexander's ancestors was some kind of genetically mutated freak. Could they be a different species? With the rate they were going the whole world might be Holden men in a few centuries.
Alexander had to laugh. The things he thought about in his post-nut state were always strange but he must have really needed this if he was thinking about witches and a future of only Holden humans. Besides Alexander had found a loophole, homosexuality. Not of course before before he had spawned three and potentially hundreds more through donation. Still with Christopher at least he knew he was safe. The seed was strong but it wasn't that strong.
"HONEY. I think I'm pregnant" Christopher yelled from inside the bathroom waving a positive pregnancy test excitedly.
Shit. The seed is strong.
Hope you enjoyed, been sitting on this one for a while. I wrote an epilogue too that more comedic then hot, but i would post that too if anyone is interested.
#straight to gay#male tf#male transformation#musclegrowth#tf#age progression tf#reality change#ai image
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Do They Know It's Christmas?
Happy holidays, lovelies! And most importantly, happy noot fic exchange/ secret Santa to @itsaash --you're a legend, a sweetheart, and a friend I hold near and dear to my heart. I hope everyone is staying safe and sound! You've made it through the shortest day of the year; it's only up from here! Thanks to @veryspacecowboy for coordinating the exchange and @lumosinlove for the characters!
TW for implied smut and mild Vaincre spoilers
Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus, right down Santa Claus Lane…
“Fourth line, take it left!”
…and all the fun we had last year…
“Good work, boys, remember we’re working clockwise.”
Run, run, Rudolph, Santa’s gotta make it to town…
“I know, I know, but we need to get that down before we break today.”
…come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with…
“Keep those crossovers clean in the corners, Sunny!”
…the very next day, you gave it away…
Arthur frowned at his clipboard. An ache had started up along the inner corner of his eye, and not even the steady working of his thumb brought relief. The song changed to something bright and tinny with silver bells; the things he would give for a nice, quiet O, Holy Night right about now. Something soft, with minimal jangling. A saxophone would be lovely.
They had a schedule. They always had a schedule. The boys were used to rotation exercises—he had even taken pity and not added anything new or complicated to the roundup. The whole damn thing was laminated and taped to the damn glass around the damn bench on both damn sides of the goddamn rink.
Arthur’s eyes ticked typewriter-smooth down the list, but his ears alone would have told him it was a lost cause. Messy crossovers. From Sunny. Crunchy, scratchy steps from skates of perfect sharpness. Low muttering, barks of laughter, rollercoaster-arcs of chatting when they were supposed to be focusing. Cap did his best, but Harzy looked about two laps from chewing his way out through the boards.
Well. It was almost Christmas. He could be kind.
The whistle broke through Brenda Lee’s second chorus; 20 heads popped up.
“Revision!” Arthur called across the ice, drawing a steady line through the end of his list. “Bring it in.”
Their rush to the bench was the cleanest they had sounded all day.
“We’re going to finish a little early today—”
A wave of cheers cut him off, then petered out at his unimpressed glance.
“We’re finishing a little early,” he repeated when the Christmas spirit had released their souls at last, leaving only a faint ringing in the upper levels of the bleachers. “Because I’m taking off the last rotation.”
Arthur slipped his pen back into the clipboard clamp. Olli raised a tentative hand. “So…we can go…?”
Arthur frowned. “What? No, we’re going ‘til noon, if you just—guys, the schedule is right there—”
“Nooo—”
“But Coach—”
“—Christmas!—”
“I haven’t even—”
“—been here so long—”
“—like you don’t even love us—”
“—mom’s gonna kill me if I don’t—”
Unbelievable. Simply beyond words. Arthur looked over Nado’s pleading hands, hoping for an ounce of solidarity from the one person besides himself who was literally appointed for this duty, and was met with only a beleaguered, whale-eyed stare in return.
Arthur raised his eyebrows.
Sirius gazed back.
For such a large person, he could really pull off ‘sickly Victorian child begging for gruel’ when he wanted to.
“Alright,” Arthur muttered. It was lost in the sea of writhing and wailing. “Alright!”
The team (finally) fell somewhat silent.
“I am very sorry,” he began, pausing to slide his clipboard onto the bench hook. Their anticipation was delicious. “That I assumed a group of grown men playing their favorite game for millions of dollars would be able to handle one morning practice for their last competition before a holiday break.”
Pots’ eyebrows pitched as if he had been stabbed. “But Coach, it’s Christmas.”
“It is December 22nd.”
“I haven’t even found something for my dad yet!” Walker piped in.
“Sounds like a personal problem with time management.”
Pascal—the traitor—shuffled on his skates. “I was going to make holiday cookies with my children,” he said sadly. “They grow up so fast. We might not have many years of it left.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “I’m letting you go at noon, not locking you in here overnight. And I know you make cookies on Christmas Eve, because you put them on my doorstep every year.”
Pascal tsked, but didn’t deny it.
“You get cookies?” O’Hara perked up, craning his neck to look at Pacal. “How come we don’t get cookies?”
“Because I don’t need you to like me,” Pascal said with a smile.
“What if we need to catch flights?” Knut interrupted.
Arthur squinted at him. “Knut, we have a game tomorrow. You better not be going anywhere.”
“Well, no, but the sentiment stands.”
“No, it does n—you know what, fine, if you make it through…” Arthur leaned around the glass to squint at his beautiful, crisp schedule. “Your next two—TWO, I don’t wanna hear it—rotations before 11:30, I will let you out then.”
“And no lift tonight?” Kuny asked hopefully.
“Don’t push it.”
“Veto.”
Budding protests froze over in one collective puff of breath.
…the stars are brightly shining…
“What?” Arthur asked at last.
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices…
Sirius licked his lips, shifting from one foot to the other. “Veto.”
Arthur opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Every eye in the room was fixed on their captain. He rested his chin on top of his hands, folded on his stick. Lupin’s gaze flickered back and forth.
“But I…” Arthur faltered, gesturing at the schedule.
“I get three.”
“It’s not even 9:30.”
“No questions asked.”
“We have a game.”
“It’s snowing outside.”
“How do you know that?” Arthur asked despairingly.
A grin skipped across his face. “I’m Canadian. I can smell it a mile off.”
“Also, Tremzy texted everyone right before practice,” O’Hara added.
“It’s snowing, have fun at practice, you fucking losers, ha-ha,” Knut recited with a grave nod.
“No, no,” Sirius corrected. “My bones are made of snow and I was born with hockey skates in one hand and a thermometer in the other.”
“That, I believe.”
Arthur waved his hands between them before the already-unbearable situation could get any worse. “Let me just…” His headache was coming back. Going home early was starting to sound less terrible by the minute. “You, as captain, get three vetoes across the span of your contract.”
“Ouais.”
“Which you can use to veto any practice you want, for any reason, with no questions asked by me or other staff.”
“That’s what I signed, yes.”
“And you’re using it on a snow day? With barely two hours left of practice? Before a game and a week off?”
Sirius smiled. “Veto.”
“Lupin.” A last-ditch effort. Perhaps a dirty play, but it was warranted. “Lupin, don’t you have anniversary plans? Birthdays? Anything else he can use this on?”
The captain’s barely-contained mischief was bad enough. Lupin’s mild bemusement was worse. “I’m sorry, Coach, but I can’t question a veto from my captain.”
Arthur scanned the crowd of hopeful faces. Sometime in the last minute and a half, Knut had slipped his phone off the bench and was doing his best to text under Winter’s elbow. Kelly Clarkson sang along to his imminent defeat. He sighed, shook his head, and opened the gate. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Nobody moved.
Arthur blinked. “Merry Christmas?”
Not a twitch.
“Ho-ho-ho, get out.”
The dispersal was the most active they had been all day, surging forward in one mass of whooping red and gold. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Moody turn the music up a notch before hustling back into his office.
The herd had vanished down the tunnel in a matter of seconds. Arthur shook his head, turned his smile toward the empty rink, and pulled out his phone.
--
The locker room was a disaster.
“Don’t pull so hard!” Leo grunted as he fought to wriggle out of his jersey, hopping on one socked foot while Finn tried to help him out of his remaining skate. “I’m gonna fall, I’m gonna fall, Kasey—”
An elbow to the ribs righted him. “Yeah, no, I’m on my way out,” Kasey called over the ruckus, sandwiching his phone between his ear and shoulder. “Yeah, lemme get my shoes on. Al’s driving? Jesus, maybe I’ll just walk.”
“A tie is bad, right? That’s a bad gift?”
“T, I’m sure your dad will love anything you get him.”
“But I got him one for his birthday.”
Remus grimaced for just a moment, but it was enough. Thomas dropped his head into his hands with a groan.
“No, hey, it’s a good gift!” Remus tried, patting his shoulder. “Does he have a lot of ties?”
“He’s more of a sweater guy.”
“T.”
“I know, I know, I know.” Thomas sighed. His head fell back against his stall, then rolled toward Remus as his lip slid out in a pout. “I don’t even know where to start.”
Did Remus have to give him a minute with this one? He was a little afraid he did. “T,” he started. “Your dad likes sweaters.”
“Yeah.”
“So get him sweaters.”
“But what if he doesn’t like them?”
Remus took him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “He likes you.”
Thomas made a desperate sound and rolled his head the other way, then heaved himself upright. “I need to go outside. The cold clears my mind.”
“Way ahead of you!” Finn shouted over his shoulder, one hand clasped in Leo’s and the other on the doorknob with his skates teetering dangerously over his shoulder.
Leo hoisted their duffel bags, shuffling through the narrow doorframe with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. He gave them one last clumsy wave with a glove half-on. “Lo sends his love, even if he’ll never say it!”
“Yes, I’m coming,” Kasey laughed, presumably still to Natalie. He caught the door with his foot just as it was beginning to close; Remus grabbed the edge of it from him and waved off both his grateful look and mouthed thank you. “Yes, baby,” Kasey repeated. “Usual spot. On my way.”
It was a disaster, and then as fast as they had all tumbled in, everyone flooded out. A few of the newer guys remained, muffled by the hum of the showers. Dumo ruffled up Sirius’ hair as he passed, preoccupied by Celeste’s rapid-fire French on the phone and the hustle of his light jog. Remus was pretty sure he caught some mention of the park; there was one near their house with a pond that froze around this time of year. He was a little surprised Logan wasn’t already staking his claim on it.
Sirius’ arm was around him before he even started to sit. It made for the perfect guide and counterbalance, settling him firmly on a denim-clad thigh with a kiss to seal it in seconds. “Hey,” Sirius mumbled against his shoulder blade.
“Hi, trouble,” Remus laughed.
Sirius hummed, obviously pleased, and gave him a squeeze around the waist. “That felt good.”
“Using your powers for evil?”
“Mhm.” Another pulse, this time with a cheeky pinch to his hip. “And you.”
Remus scoffed, swatting at him, but couldn’t help leaning back into his warmth all the same. He was lucky Sirius couldn’t see the heat of his face, too preoccupied with nuzzling his way across the span of Remus’ back to leave a kiss at the top notch of his spine before burying his nose in the divot below. Odd creature, that one. Remus liked him far too much. “What are you doing?”
“You smell good.”
“I haven’t showered.”
“I noticed.”
Remus bit the inside of his cheek for a moment. He gave the room a cursory glance—the stragglers were just finishing up, too engrossed in whatever wisdom James was bestowing on them to notice the graze of Sirius’ teeth over the arch of his shoulder. “I was thinking,” Remus started, then lowered his voice. “Was thinking we could do it at home instead.”
Sirius’ smile pressed bright and devious to his skin. “Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Am I invited?”
“Unless I’ve started using the royal ‘we’,” Remus teased, digging his elbow lightly back into the curve of Sirius’ rib.
His laugh was soft, but the pat to Remus’ outer thigh was perfectly heavy with promise. “Get your bag.”
News of their early departure had obviously reached the ears of the rest of the training staff, because the halls were stark in their emptiness on the way out, after many goodbyes to James and promises of dinner tonight. Remus had been dying for some actual holiday time—he had planned gifts months in advance, dedicated an entire Monday to wrapping, agonized over delivery times and game schedules and delays.
But he was craving the substance of it, the literal meat and potatoes of people coming over to ooh and aah at the ornaments over dinner by the fire. Most of all, he wanted some time that was theirs. A brief moment to enjoy the lights and the smell of fir with just himself, Sirius, and the dog. It had been…three weeks? More? Since they put the wreaths and boughs up around the house. He was pretty sure that was the last time they had been able to do holiday things that didn’t involve obviously sneaking off to get gifts for each other.
Sirius seemed to feel the same. They had hardly made it past the PT room before he was pulled into an empty hallway for a kiss that melted in his mouth like butterscotch. He hummed, pushing into it, but Sirius just took him by the hips and pressed him back against the wall. Okayokayokayokayokay came the giddy whirl of the end of his thoughts.
“This.” Sirius’ mouth moved against his jaw, threatening a mark above his pulse point. “This is what I was after.”
“Cancelling practice just to kiss me,” Remus said, breathless already. His throat caught at a flash of teeth under his ear. “So irresponsible.”
Sirius’ eyes were bright and playful. “And I’d do it again.”
They got away with another minute—or five—before footsteps sounded down the other hall. Remus took him by the hand and pulled him toward the parking lot at a brisk, tumbling clip, sneakers pattering on the floors Filch was waiting to wax until they were all gone for the break. Hooligans, he called them. It echoed in Remus’ head as he kissed Sirius stupid in the hall beside the display cases. If only he could see them now.
The air bit his face as soon as they stepped outside, hot and kiss-fresh. Remus could hear voices around the corner but Sirius’ hand was sliding ever-lower and he just—“There’s people!” he hissed, fighting his grin with a blind bat backwards.
Sirius was too fast. A firm grab made him hoot, startling a laugh from both of them. “The entire world has seen us making out in a car, loup,” he snorted. “I think that’s worse.”
It was only the Cubs, after all, and half a snowman wearing a disjointed collection of gear. Leo’s oh-so-subtle text must have done the trick to summon Logan out of his holiday relaxation. He had only flown in that morning after the Rangers’ last game, but he seemed plenty awake despite the journey.
“You’re making me cold just looking at you,” he argued, adjusting his beanie over Leo’s ears while Finn finished rolling the head beside them. “You’ve lived here for years, and still you forget a hat?”
“Merci, baby.” Leo tried to sound begrudging while he obediently bent to let Logan work, but it only came off as fond. Remus could relate.
“And Fish just lets you walk out of the house like this. Unbelievable. It’s snowing.”
“It wasn’t snowing when we left,” Leo pointed out. “I seem to remember a ha-ha, losers text informing us of the change.”
Logan’s tsk was sharp as black ice while he tenderly tucked Leo’s curls under the hat’s knitted edge and kissed each of his cheeks. “Completely frozen over,” he informed Leo. “You’re welcome.”
“Now you’re going to get cold.”
Whatever disbelieving expression Logan made was lost to Remus as Sirius ushered him around the back of the car, but his scoff was plenty audible. “I’m Canadian. I don’t get cold.”
Sirius’ forehead hit the steering wheel the moment their doors closed. “I want to be home,” he complained.
“You’re in the right place to get there.”
“I don’t want to drive.”
“I can do it.”
A pathetic sigh heaved his back and shoulders. “I don’t want to wait fifteen minutes.”
Remus tugged on the back of his hat. “Not that I’ll ever say no to a little New Year’s action, but I feel like we just covered why that’s not a great idea in broad daylight.”
Sirius groaned, grumbled, and turned the car on.
Between salt and the morning commute, the roads were mostly clear. The familiar crunch of snow under tires pulled half of Remus’ brain from the rink; the other half followed at a sluggish pace, coaxed away by radio carols and the mindless chatter the two of them somehow managed in spite of spending eighty percent of their time together. The window was cold on the side of his head. Remus never liked freezing, but there was something about a snow day that always felt like home.
The house lights cast red and green glimmers over Sirius when they pulled in. They were working on getting decorations he liked; things he actually wanted, not just what Instagram said he should use. It wasn’t a lot yet, but it was a start. The icicle lights above the door had been a particularly good find.
They were greeted by a loud bark and the scrabble of paws. Hattie careened around the corner from the living room (she had taken to dozing under the tree) and spun herself at their feet in a few tight circles for maximum petting efficiency.
“We’re home so early!” Sirius cooed, gathering her wiggly body up in his lap like she was still tiny. “Oh, you’re so excited. Did we surprise you?”
“We were so mean to poor Coach,” Remus agreed as he dodged her lolling tongue. “Yes, baby, so mean, but now we’ll be home all day.”
Hattie keened and whined and nibbled on everything in reach for a tolerable thirty seconds, then launched herself out of Sirius’ lap and made a beeline for her toy box. She had hardly made it halfway to them when a cardinal flitted past outside—her ears spiked up, body puffing on a low bwoof. Remus barely got the screen door open before she was off like a bird-seeking missile, cutting through the snow in leaps and bounds.
They dumped their gear in the mudroom, made a snack, planned lunch, played with the dog, dried the dog, cleaned her paws, and finally—finally—they were standing in the same room, with nothing to do for another hour at least.
“Hi,” Remus said, heart kicking.
Sirius smiled. “Hello.”
Hattie’s teeth squealed on her peanut-butter-filled toy.
They wasted no time for foolishness on the stairs. A sweater on the ribbon-wrapped banister; socks in the hall. Sirius’ pants didn’t even make it across the bathroom threshold, belt clattering on the floor. Remus turned the shower on with his eyes closed because he quite simply could not be bothered to spare more than one hand.
“C’mere,” he murmured into Sirius’ mouth, even as he stepped backward under the spray. “C’mere, don’t move.”
Sirius’ response was wordless and perfect.
Steam built around them, chasing off the chill. The house was decorated. The presents were wrapped. Meals were planned, the dog was busy, and Remus was tired but he was so, so awake now, with ink-black hair wound around his fingers and a boy that held him so the hot water never left him.
Sirius rested his head on Remus’ shoulder and went lax at the drag of a soapy hand over his back. “So good.” His mouth rested at the curve of Remus’ jaw. Every word cooled his skin. “So good to me.”
“Doing my best,” Remus joked with a scritch to his nape.
Sirius raised his head, blinking sleepily around the water that spilled down his face. “I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t scrambling for gifts this time of year.”
“I do.”
“Mm?”
“Last year.” Remus smudged a few soap bubbles down the bridge of his nose. “Shopping for you.”
Sirius’ forehead wrinkled. “Me?”
“I was being cranky,” Remus assured him, running his thumbs over Sirius’ collarbones. He didn’t have a lot of soap left, but he would be shameless and greedy about touching like this. “Lily knocked some sense into me.”
“She’s good at that.”
“The best.”
“And she’s lucky to have you.” A kiss pushed the side of his hair into a cowlick; Sirius grinned as he smoothed it down with one hand. “Trop mignon.”
Hot hot hot hot hot. Remus wrapped both arms around his waist and sank his teeth into the knot of soft muscle above Sirius’ heart. Sirius’ laugh jostled him, but that was fine. He was used to it. “I love the holidays with you.” One last little kiss to his neck, to the spot he had bitten the other night and made Sirius’ leg tremble. “I love you.”
“I’m going to veto every single practice forever.”
“No,” Remus laughed, swaying them back and forth. He covered Sirius’ wicked smile with his hand and kissed the back of it. “No, non, not allowed.”
“But I get kisses and showers and I love you’s and dinner—” His hands skimmed up and down Remus’ sides, running over wet skin with the expertise of someone who knew all his soft spots. “—and you bite me and our dog loves us and we get to see James and Lily tonight—”
Remus cut him off with his lips this time. “Your perfect day,” he whispered, though it was just them in the house. “Sounds pretty close to mine.”
“Copycat.”
“Maybe we should just stick together,” Remus offered. Sirius’ fingertips found his own, lacing together all too easily. “For maximum perfect-day concentration, you know.”
“Nothing else, of course,” Sirius agreed.
“Oh, nothing.”
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
“I put mistletoe above our bedroom door when we were decorating.”
“Amateur. I put it on the ceiling above our bed.”
#remus lupin#sirius black#arthur weasley#james potter#leo knut#finn o'hara#logan tremblay#sweater weather#vaincre#lumosinlove#my fic#fanfic#winterfic#secret santa#fluff#team shenanigans#lions
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Brenda is a guest star in caine's circus
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GOFUNDMES FOR LEWISTON SHOOTING VICTIMS
For those of you that DON'T know, Lewiston, Maine experienced a mass shooting on Wednesday. I am not from that part of the state, but the state is very tight knit. You're probably 3 degrees of separation from someone, maybe 5 or 6 if you're really pushing it. The suspect has not been taken into custody because they cannot find him.
These are 16 of the 18 confirmed deaths. 13 were injured. If you can donate, please donate. If you're in the state, go donate blood if you're eligible. UPDATE: suspect was found deceased. I think everyone is feeling an immense sense of relief at the news he cannot hurt another person. That being said, the community still has a lot of healing to do.
Peyton Brewer-Hoss
Justin Karcher
Arthur Strout
Maxx Hathaway
Joseph Walker
Bill and Aaron Young
Billy Brackett
Kyle Secor
Ben Dyer
fund for all victims and their families
#maine#lewiston maine#lewiston#new england#mainers#gofundme#gun violence#reblog#please share#please reblog#signal boost#donations#boosting#donate
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