#festival gay

[kitteecafe]

im so late to pride posting lmao

[w0lfkller]

...who put that mistletoe there ?

[ruporas]

hands and touch (ID in alt)

[tragedy-machine]

What if Charles never liked Christmas because it always just meant more time with family, and thus his asshole father, so Edwin loving the holidays and going all out to make it feel special and warm completely changed Charles’ perspective on it and he learned that it can actually be nice so now they both love it 😭😭

[freshbeeth]

god dammit marina ida one day you will wear a shirt

[zimt-deathnote]

@mattmelloweek 🧡

the single windows under the cut

[richter-kale]

bruce: clark i’m seriously concerned. have i failed jason? does he not know what mistletoe is?

clark: [sweating profusely] i definitely knew there was mistletoe there. i knew that. before you said it just now

[g1rld1ary]

snowball fights - james potter x fem!lupin!reader

wc: 1756

cw: none!

me: can u tell i've never seen snow LOL -- it is actually fire szn here so veryyyy different vibes

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You loved being at Remus’ house. As your favourite side of the family, Remus’ house was always the place to be. Growing up in a household with many siblings, the Lupin's place was your safe haven when it all got to be too much and Remus became your best friend despite the year age gap.

You were staying at the Lupins over the Christmas break of your seventh year, not even expecting Remus to be there but wanting some peace and a relaxing break with your aunt and uncle. It was only as you’d apparated in from King’s Cross that you were told Remus and his friends would be having their annual Christmas dinner at the Lupin’s this year. You couldn’t lie that you were excited, you loved Remus and adored his friends even if you weren’t super close with them.

Remus swept you up in his arms as the boys burst into the house, announcing their presence with raucous laughter and heavy footsteps.

“Are you taller?” He imitated his mum good-naturedly and you laughed, putting your hands on your hips to mimic your own mother.

“You need to eat more, Remus, you’re thin as a beanpole.” You both dissolved into laughter, years of family gatherings leaving an imprint on both of your memories.

“Hey, kid,” Peter greeted you by ruffling your hair, making you swat at his hand and duck out of his hug, going back when he exaggerated his heartbreak.

“I’m only eighteen months younger than you, idiot. Don’t make me sound twelve.”

“Stop looking like you’re twelve, then, little lady,” Sirius came around the corner teasing you. You pouted, accepting his kiss on the temple nonetheless.

“You’re so mean to me. You know I’m basically your sister and this is how you treat me? Cold,” You grumbled, secretly smiling when you saw him and Remus exchange momentary eye contact when you mentioned their relationship.

“You think this is bad? You should see how my cousins treat their siblings,” He retorted and you grimaced, shaking your head.

“Not cool to pull the shitty family card, dude. None of us can compete with that.” Sirius made a triumphant noise and held up his hand for a high five which Remus reluctantly reciprocated, leading his boyfriend down the hall to where his parents were certainly awaiting in their unassigned—assigned armchairs. That just left James to enter, doing the majority of the group’s heavy lifting, biceps flexing under the weight of suitcases and gifts — not that you were thinking about his biceps.

“Let me help.” You rushed over to him, taking one of many bags from his arms.

“Thanks, little Lupin. I owe you one.” You internally sighed. James, the most loyal friend, had only ever treated you like Remus’ younger cousin, even when you did everything you could to move out of that role. Still, it was better than nothing. Even a little bit of James Potter’s attention was enough to feed your delusions and keep you girlishly attached to him over the years since you’d met.

Christmas lunch was the highlight of your whole break. Remus and his friends always brought an unmatchable energy wherever they went and you always felt lucky just to be in their presence, like you were still the annoying younger sibling your parents made them include. That was only exacerbated by the constant teasing you endured whenever you spent time with them.

“Little Lupin, how does it feel to still have to go back to school?” Sirius asked, knowing you’d be annoyed by the question. You rolled your eyes heavily, slumping dramatically in your chair.

“I’m counting down the days until summer, I’ll tell you that. How does it feel to have to go back to work?” Then it was Sirius’ turn to grimace — he was still searching for a ‘dream job’, taking up a temporary office post at the ministry in the meantime.

“Touché,” He relented as James sent you a thumbs up. You pretended not to be affected by it.

“How is school? Not causing too much trouble, are you?” Peter asked through a mouthful of bread. You shook your head, taking a mouthful of the wine Remus’ parents only let you have on special occasions.

“No way, I’m not taking after — guys it’s snowing!” You shrieked, running to the window of the dining room. You pressed your face to the glass for a better view of the new snowflakes covering last night's blanket of powdery white snow. You heard a cacophony of laughter behind you but intentionally ignored it, admiring how the street was turning into a winter wonderland.

“Please, please will someone come outside with me?” You asked hopefully, interrogating them all with intense eye contact. Remus shook his head immediately, not one to put up with your shenanigans.

“You know I don’t like the cold, and Sirius is already under the weather, he’s not playing in the snow today.” He gave a pointed look to his boyfriend who tried to act tough, but melted easily. You moved on to Peter, puppy dog eyes on full force.

“Sorry, bud,” He said softly, as if it was out of his control and not just a dislike for being cold. You pouted.

“You’re only allowed to call me bud when you’re not making me sad.” You didn’t bother asking your aunt and uncle whether they’d go out with you. They were getting old, it wouldn’t be fair.

“I’ll go,” James broke your woeful silence.

“Really?” You looked back at him with wide eyes. He nodded, now slightly unsure, and you hopped up with newly revived energy, rushing out of the room and down towards the front door. James followed behind.

There was a strange energy between the two of you as you pulled on your coats and winter gear. Of all the marauders, James was the one you were least close to. Not for any specific reason, but at school he’d always been the most popular of the group — always busy with quidditch training, Lily or the gaggle of fans that always fought for his attention. That left him with little time to hang out with you, his best friend’s irrelevant little cousin who just happened to think he was fit. You didn’t hold it against him at all, you had enough of your own friends, it was just a fact that you didn’t know much about each other.

Still, you had someone willing to put up with your love of the snow. You weren’t going to waste that. You flashed him a smile as you beat him to getting ready, slipping out the door and out into the street. You let yourself laugh loudly as you spun wildly, arms out and face tipped up to the sun to catch the snow on you. You loved the cold, it was reassuring, grounding.

James watched you from the gate, smiling softly as you frolicked around, dancing in the snow as it fell lightly on your head and shoulders. He ventured closer, shoes covered in snow as he stared down the street, momentarily struck by the view of a dozen quaint houses all covered in white, something straight out of a fairytale.

He was drawn from his reverie by stumbling forward, propelled by a force to the back of his head. His hand snapped up to where he was hit, emerging covered in powdery snow. James whirled to face you where you stood with a faux-innocent expression, revealing your guilt with a playful smile you were trying hard to conceal.

James gasped in mock outrage, dropping to the floor to create his counterattacks. You squealed as he flung snowball after snowball at you with alarming accuracy, no doubt thanks to his many years as chaser.

You had your back to James to endure the majority of the attacks, coat becoming thick with exploded snow. You’d gathered a few snowballs to keep yourself armed but as you popped back up to throw them James’ strong arms came around your middle, lifting you into the air. It was too intimate for the relationship you had, but you were both affected by the winter heaven you were in (and maybe your Christmas spirit) and you laughed loudly, tilting your head to the sky to feel cold wind on your features. As James spun you around you remembered your secret weapon, smushing a snowball into his face, all but cackling as he spluttered and dropped you to the ground.

“Oh, you’re evil, little Lupin,” He said, pointing an accusatory finger. You took a dramatic bow, launching from your spot on the ground when James launched towards you, armed with more snowballs. You sprinted as James launched them at you, groaning when one hit you particularly hard.

You only stopped running when you’d been thoroughly worn out, legs giving way until you flopped onto a thick layer of snow, sinking slightly into it. James tortured you with one more snowball to the face — probably revenge for earlier — before setting himself down beside you, letting his perfectly messy curls get wet from the snow melting under his body heat.

You’d been staring up into the sky, squinting under the bright sun when you felt him watching you. You turned your head slowly to face him, gasping softly as your cheek hit the ice. James was staring at you, a soft look in his eye.

“What?” You asked, unnerved by his silence.

“Merry Christmas,” He said, sharing a small smile. You returned the phrase only slightly awkwardly, choosing to look back out at the sky for fear of getting intimidated by James’ gaze.

From behind the living room windows, the rest of your Christmas party watched the entire display unfold.

“Ten galleons that Prongs tells us he likes her before New Year's,” Sirius said with a laugh.

“No way, Valentine’s Day,” Peter chuckled.

“Maybe he doesn’t like her, right?” Remus suggested weakly, feeling slightly sick to his stomach.

“Oh, Remus,” Hope smiled, “I say tonight.”

Laughter echoed around the small house as Remus put his head in his hands, mortified by the prospect of his closest friend pursuing his little cousin, even if you weren’t so little anymore.

You and James were completely unaware of the bets being made inside, swallowed whole by the bubble of peace that the snow brought.

[ultravioletbrit]

“linger” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 904 words

“stories” - 25 Days of Jegumas - Day 18 - @noblehouseofgay

Regulus is waiting outside the Winter Festival with Sirius and Remus.

“Stop fidgeting.” Sirius slaps Regulus hand away from where he’s fidgeting with the hem of his jumper.

“He’s late.” Regulus mumbles.

“He’s two minutes late. Calm down.”

“What if he saw me, turned around and left?” Regulus asks nervously.

“It’s not a blind date, Reggie. He’s very aware of what you look like.” Sirius rolls his eyes.

“But he’s never seen me on a date. What if he saw how I look on a date and decided—”

“Regulus.” Remus cuts him off and nods towards the parking lot.

Regulus turns around and his nerves increase tenfold when he see James and by the time he stops in front of them Regulus feels like he can’t breathe.

“Hi!” James smiles brightly.

“Hi.” Regulus whispers.

“Sorry I’m a little late, I was here… I was… erm… I…” James trails off rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Sirius snorts. “He was nervous and has been sitting in his car for the last 20 minutes.” It’s not a question and James doesn’t correct him he just blushes and glares at Sirius.

“Sirius, leave him alone.” Remus tells him. “Should we go?” He asks and pulls Sirius into the festival without giving anyone a chance to answer. Regulus and James fall into step behind them.

It’s only quiet for a moment before Sirius turns around. “So, should we start with baby pictures or embarrassing stories from his childhood?” He asks James with a cheeky grin and Regulus’ eyes grow wide with panic. “Oh, calm down, Reggie. Like he hasn’t already heard embarrassing stories from your childhood.” Sirius smirks and Regulus freezes.

Remus grabs Sirius’ shoulders and turns him back around. “Leave them alone.” He hisses in Sirius' ear as they continue walking.

Regulus and James wait a moment longer, then followed behind them. “I haven’t heard embarrassing stories about you.” James tries to reassure him and Regulus huffs disbelievingly. “I really haven’t. Honestly, he would probably be embarrassed for you to find out how much he gushes about you. He’s only ever told us how great you are. It’s actually kind of intimidating.” James clears his throat. “It could erm… could probably make some guys feel a little insecure and really nervous to be…” James trails off when Regulus stops and looks at him.

“You… you’re nervous?” Regulus asks quietly, and James give him a shy shrug. Regulus narrows his eyes incredulously and James purses his lips to the side and looks away sheepishly. After a moment, he looks back at Regulus with an unspoken question in his eyes. They exchange several glances with varying emotions having a bit of a silent conversation that basically says ‘yeah, we’re both nervous.’

They both seem to relax a little and they start walking again. But as soon as they catch up, Sirius turns around.

“Okay, how about some embarrassing stories about Prongs?” Sirius asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “And I definitely have embarrassing pictures.” He pulls out his phone and James groans under his breath.

“Sirius.” Remus snaps. “Leave. them. alone.”

Sirius fusses a bit but Remus pulls him forward and James continues behind them. Regulus stops to linger at one of the booths and after a moment, he feels James come up beside him.

“We shouldn’t have done this.” Regulus whispers.

“Oh.” James says sadly.

“Not this.” Regulus gestures between the two of them. “That.” He waves dismissively in Sirius’ direction. “I don’t know why we thought a double date would be smart.” Regulus sighs.

“Because he wouldn’t let me take you out otherwise.” James says simply.

“What?!” Regulus’ head snaps to look at James.  

“Yeah, he said I could only ask you out if he came with us.”

“I don’t need a chaperon, James.” Any remaining nerves are instantly replaced with irritation. “And what do you mean, let you? Like he needs to give you permission?”

James’ nerves also seem to be slipping away, and have been replaced with a cocky, relaxed smirk that only irritates Regulus more.

“What?” Regulus snaps.

“I agreed to a double date for our first date, but I also told him that’s all he gets. He’s not allowed on any other dates unless specifically planned or invited. No randomly showing up where we are. No ‘oh, that’s where I left this’ if we’re hanging out in the living room. No barging in or sabotaging us in any way… and he said ‘okay’.” He shrugs then pauses for a moment. “Plus, I was going to ask you out either way, but this way, any future dates will be Sirius-free.”

Regulus’ irritation is slowly melting away and he narrows his eyes at James.

“You think there’ll be future dates?” Regulus raises an eyebrow with the hint of a smile.

James smiles back and steps into Regulus’ space. He slowly lifts his hand and tucks a curl behind Regulus’ ear.

“Only if you want there to be.” James answers with a bright smile as Regulus leans into the touch.    

“Sirius! Leave them alone!” Remus’ voice breaks them out of their moment and they look over to see Sirius holding up his phone.  

“What? I need embarrassing first date pictures!” Sirius defends himself and looks at his phone with a huff, “Well, that’s not embarrassing at all.” He complains. “That’s sickeningly adorable.” James grins and Regulus leans into his side a bit, letting James’ arm wrap around his shoulder. Regulus gives his brother a small, smug smile. “Ugh, you two are going to be insufferable, aren’t you?” Sirius whines.

“Sirius.” Remus rolls his eyes and pulls Sirius away again. “Leave them alone.”

[spengsart]

hello ghost fans i understand now

[sarcki]

What it’s like being on team present

I love it here 💜

[pancakemolybdenum]

@josuyasuweek-2024 day 2: sleepover / festival or matsuri / childhood friends

cheating at games for children. together <3

[benoits-neckerchieves]

New image from Queer !!?!!!

[semrielle]

grand festival ft. aiver!!

[fartcushion]

Farter Christmas

Santa sat by the fire in his favourite chair, about to start the second check of the Naughty or Nice list. A formality really, as mistakes were rare and with all the boys and girls being extra good for Christmas, the chance of slipping from Nice to Naughty was extremely low.

As he scrolled through it, he reached a particularly troubling duo. The twins; Bryan and Ryan Miller.

Bryan was the perfect little angel, all year round. His brother, Ryan, on the other hand was a terror. He made it his mission in life to be his brother's biggest bully. He would break his toys, steal his sweets and other acts of cruelty. He was particularly gross in his torture, one of his favourite acts was to take every opportunity to fart on him, especially if he could time it to be in Bryan's face.

Santa tutted, shaking his head. It appeared this year had been no different in the Miller household. Years of giving Bryan what he asked for in his letter, and leaving Ryan only coal had done nothing to teach the lesson. That good girls and boys get presents, and naughty children do not. It was as if for Ryan there was no greater gift than getting to bully his brother.

The boys stopped believing in Santa quite early; Ryan probably never truly believing and willing to assign the coal to his neglectful parents, their pathetic effort to try and change him. Bryan had believed, but as the abuse grew the magic of Christmas lost it's spark. Soon Santa had no power there anymore. Frustrated by his time honoured traditions limiting his influence, he kept an eye on the pair.

--------------------

Years passed and nothing changed as they became adults. Bryan remained good at heart despite the abuse, which only escalated as the pair grew older. But it had taken its toll, he was a lonely and timid man. Ryan stayed rotten to the core, becoming more sadistic as his antics went unchecked.

He used the same bullying tactics to get ahead at work, now he was a top manager. He'd even been able to hire a Personal Assistant, of which he gave the honour to Bryan. Since he had struggled to find work due his shyness, he'd been desperate for anything, which Ryan took full advantage of. Getting 40+ hours a week to fart on his brother, and being paid for it.

In the office on Christmas Eve, as the two readied to finish for the holiday, they were unaware how things were finally about the change.

"It's been great having you work for me this past year, feel like you've been a real asset"

Bbbrrrppp

Ryan let out a fart to emphasize the ass in asset.

A sniffing noise could be heard from under Ryan's desk.

"Do you like working for your brother?"

Bbbrrrrppppppp

*sniff* "Yes, I do, sir. Thank you again for the opportunity "

Ryan let out a final toot before standing up from his desk and releasing his brother who began to crawl out. Ryan reached down and pushed Bryan's face into the seat of his chair so he could enjoy the days scent.

"You're welcome. Now don't forget, even though the office is closed from Boxing Day through New Years, I expect you to come in. I've got some reports I'm behind on so I'll need you to do those for me".

"Of course, sir. I'm happy to do that" Bryan muffled in to the cushion.

"Good boy. Right, I'm off. Make sure you have the farts out of that chair before you go. I'll see you tomorrow at mom and dad's. Don't forget to bring my gifts for them".

"I won't, sir". Not lifting his face from the chair, Bryan called after his brother as he was heading for the door. "Erm, sir, I'm sorry to ask. But...I was told earlier this year I'd be getting a Christmas bonus. I haven't heard anything though"

Ryan smirked, unseen by his brother, and walked back to behind the desk where his downtrodden brother was still dutifully sniffing.

"Oh, hadn't you heard?! I'm sorry to say that the bonuses were cancelled this year. Despite all us managers arguing for them to honoured"

"Oh...I see... That's a shame, I really could have used the money. But, I'm sure you did everything you could".

"I really did, I would appreciate your gratitude for my efforts" and with that Ryan turned his ass to his brother. Bryan, taking the hint, leant forward and kissed his ass.

Pppprrrpppp

For the rest of the night Ryan had been laughing and smirking to himself every time he thought of that moment. His pathetic brother, face down in his chair, believing he'd fought for his bonus. Oh he'd fought alright, he argued that his assistant didnt deserve it, that he missed some key targets and so wasn't viable. Ryan was reminiscing fondly on that brilliant ploy of his as he fell asleep.

In the room there arose such a clatter that Ryan awoke with a start. The room was lit as if by dozens of candles, but none could be seen. But in the room there was a large man. Dressed in a luxurious red velvet suit, with white fur trim and gold buttons. On top of his head a hat of the same cloth. Ryan could see him from his bed, but nothing else, as he was unable to move. As he struggled and writhed, the man in the room just let out a chuckle.

"Oh, hohoho, you won't get out of that"

Ryan lifted his head as much as he could and caught sight of large ribbons wrapped around him, mummifying him.

"Little Ryan Miller, all grown up now. You were always a very naughty boy. You made your brother suffer as children and now as adults. I didn't help when you were young, and I have regretted that,l dearly, so I'm here now to right that wrong".

"Fuck you talking about, you crazy weirdo" Ryan screamed. Thrashing in his constraints. "Bryan, is that you? Is this some ridiculous attempt to stand up to me?"

The man stepped closer and Ryan could see it was not his brother in disguise. His white long beard was real. The man was old, though still fresh faced and rosy cheeked, but his eyes gave away his age. Windows to a tired, ancient soul.

"Noo, Ryan. It's me, Santa, and I'm here to teach you a very important lesson".

Santa moved to the side of the bed. "I thought a fitting punishment would be to give you a taste of your own medicine.

Santa stepped up on to the bed, Ryan caught sight of his large shiny black leather boots. As Santa stood over him, Ryan could see the bulk of the man. His gut stretching the coat. He watched as the man turned around, his trousers pulled tight across his large, fat ass, as if threatening to tear.

Ryan desperately struggled against the bindings as Santa lowered himself down. His ass fully engulfing Ryan's face. His cheeks pooled over the side of Ryan's head, on to the pillows.

Muffled cries came from beneath, Santa just wriggled his ass back and forth until the sound stopped. Lifting himself back up off his victim he looked behind him, Ryan had passed out.

The cold air woke Ryan, chilly wind biting at his nose. He opened his eyes, confused by what was happening. Had that been a dream? No it couldn't have been. He was clearly outside, looking up at the night's sky. He couldn't move still and worse now his head seemed to be in a box or something, he could turn slightly, but only enough before hitting the edge of the window he was looking through. His nose and mouth sticking out in to the air. Where the fuck was he, and where was the crazy man who thought he was Santa? Ryan thought.

Not long passed before he heard footsteps. Crunching of boots on snow.

Then the man's face reappeared, looking down at him.

"Oh good, you're awake now. We did quite a few towns while you were out, I was worried you'd miss out on too much of my punishment".

"LET ME OUT YOU PSYCHOPATH!"

"Now, now, Ryan. Name calling is very naughty behaviour. I told you, I'm here to teach you a lesson". He moved out of view for a second, he climbed up causing Ryan's prison to tilt under his weight.

Santa shuffled in to view again, once more his ass in Ryan's field of view.

"I had the elves work on a special sleigh for me. Which you're in now. This hole you're looking through is in the seat. I'm going to take you with me as I deliver presents. Your face is going to be the perfect cushion"

As Ryan started to cry for help, Santa sat down. His wide rear filling the sleigh seat, his cheeks parting to allow Ryan's nose into his crack. The material of his trousers was soft on Ryan's skin. The warmth was a welcome change from the cold air. But the stench was not.

Santa chuckled to himself, his plan finally being enacted. Sometimes you just had to punish the wicked, he'd learned that too late. He set the reindeers off and spoke calmly. His magic allowed Ryan to hear perfectly despite the whistling wind and the large ass covering his face.

"Shall we begin, Ryan. Don't bother answering, I can't hear you. I'm going to go down this special naughty list I made for you. It lists every misdeed you've done. For each one I read out I'm going to fart in your face. You like doing that to other people don't you, do you find it as funny when you're on the receiving end?"

Pffftt

"There's a taster for you".

The airy fart hit Ryan, he couldn't escape it.

"Now, I know what you're thinking. There's no way I can fart enough to cover everything on the list. Well good news, I'm about to be eating a lot of cookies, mince pies and all the other treats boys and girls leave out for me around the world. Oh and don't get me started on what all that milk does to me! Mrs Claus is going to be thrilled this year to not have to put up with all my gas. Now I have my little sniffer here to take it all" Santa wriggled his ass back and forth. The seat was built well; Santa's weight was held off enough that Ryan wouldn't pass out from suffocation, but it meant his nose would still bury deep. Deeper with each wriggle.

"Right, here we go, let's start with this recent one. You stole your brother's Christmas bonus! Oh naughty naughty"

Pppprrrbbbb

Ryan heard his crime read out and the echoing rip of the fart that followed. He was furious. But all he could think about was the odour. It smelt like boiled sprouts.

"That's it, breath it in, my farts are as rotten as your behaviour. I may be magical but my farts still stink, boy. Remember how you cancelled the office Christmas party so you could make up for the losses from your poor performance"

BBBBPPPTTTT

"This is for making Bryan work next week when he isn't being paid, again to cover your ass"

BBBBBBFFFFFTTTTT

Ryan didn't think he could take much more of this. He was desperate for fresh air, all he could smell was the pungent sweaty ass and then a sudden rush of foul stench, that hissed, boomed and ripped from the hole millimetres from his nose.

Suddenly cold air rushed and the darkness was replaced with pale light as Santa stood up to deliver his next present.

"Please" Ryan pleaded. "Please, no more"

"Oh, Ryan, you haven't learned your lesson yet, you just don't want to accept your punishment. Now shush". Magically a bauble gagged his mouth, preventing him saying anything more.

"I don't want you making noise and waking the children", and off Santa went to make the delivery.

Before long Ryan was back under the warmth of his ass. As they were now in a large town the stops were frequent, so he got more air breaks between farts. But Santa had chosen particularly heinous crimes of his to justify particularly bad farts. They started to smell like spoilt milk.

"Remember when you threw you brothers college acceptance letter in the bin and told him they rejected him, all so you didn't lose your punching bag"

Ppppprrrrrrrrbbbbbbbb

'"That time you slept with the girl he liked..

Bbbpptt

In his bed!"

Ppppbbbbfffttt

The night passed on. As Santa read his list he let fart after fart out on Ryan's face. The smell changed with each country's food offering, but it was always vile.

”You sold his puppy and told your parents he let it escape"

Bbbbrrrrbbppp

"In front of all his friends at your birthday party you made him eat cake you'd farted on"

Pppbbtt prrrrbbbb

"The next time he made a friend and invited him over, you stuffed the kids head in the toilet, and he never spoke to Bryan again!"

Pprrrrppp

The ball gag was aching Ryan's jaw. His nose was sore from being crushed up against the hole for so long as Santa had truly mastered wriggling it deep up in there.

His body ached from lying still in the small prison. He thought hard about each and every act Santa read out, trying to find an shred of remorse within himself. Maybe if he could convince Santa he was sorry he'd end this. But it just wasn't there. He was better than everyone. His brother was pathetic. He fucking loved having him as his bitch. Each fart Santa unleashed just made him angrier, and he started plotting what he'd do to Bryan when he was free.

More time passed, a blink of the eye for the world but hours for Santa and Ryan.

At the next and final stop, Santa sighed. Shuffled over he looked down at Ryan through the hole. His face sad.

"Oh Ryan, this isn't working is it. I know. I see you when you're sleeping and I know when you're awake. Do you think I can't tell what you're thinking" he showed Ryan the list he'd been reading off. "Every time you plan revenge on Bryan it appears on the list as a potential. I dont think this is going to work out the way I hoped".

Ryan did his best to try and hide the smug satisfaction he was feeling. At least this the old fat man knew he'd been beat, and would take him home.

"But I can't let you go. I didn't help Bryan before, but I can help him now. You've been a great sniffer for me tonight. I've not smelt any of those farts. Not holding them in means for the first time in decades I'm not feeling all bloated, makes it much easier to get down those chimneys. No, I'm sorry. But if I can't let you go for risk you'll hurt the innocent, you'll have to stay with me. My naughty little fart sniffer. Maybe in time poems will be written, songs sung and books wrote that tell the cautionary tale of what happens to the naughty children if they don't learn to be good before they grow up"

Ryan couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You'll come to the North Pole with me now, I'll use my time magic to freeze you until the next Christmas, and we'll go again. Maybe one day you'll learn the lesson, I guess that's up to you".

With another sigh, Santa slid back over Ryan's face. Covering it one more time. Letting out the odd fart, only this time Santa didn't bother to read from his crime list, it wasn't needed now. He was just here to sniff farts.

Santa stopped projecting his voice to Ryan, leaving him to the rattling of the sleigh and constant echoing of his farts. Taking the reigns he urged on the reindeer.

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!...AND SNIFFER!"

[battiegutz]

sox wishes you a happy pride!!!