#the man who played santa claus

[letterboxd-loggd]

Holiday Affair (1949) Don Hartman

December 6th 2024

[eightspringdays]

You know what has always seemed funny to me is that Mello has some kind of relation with fire (the explosion and then the fire in his death), and at the same time, his real name is the same one of the arcangel known for having a flaming sword (even tho never stated in the bible but he's represented with one in almost everywhere for interesting reasons but no one gives a shit about that)

which i totally think is a stretch of my part because based on platinum end, ohba's vision of religion is almost the equivalent to the opinion of a 15 yo edgy incel that likes reddit too much

but still funny to me. it's also funny considering the name literally means "who is like god?" because, technically speaking, michael will never be like god, he's the protector and fighter. his name is almost the statement "no one will be like god" which I think is funny considering that the one who tried to be like god was cast out to hell, like u know, the good-looking angel that in some depictions is actually a very manipulative entity that convinces some angels to get into his side and fight with him and was defeated by this said arcangel

that's very funny to me

[archangeldyke-all]

Idea: Isha thinks Santa is real and is horrified of him because she thinks he doesn’t like her because she never celebrated before as well, she was a kid in the mines.

When decorating time rolls around she’s all pouty and sad until you and Sev confront the poor baby.

this is so fucking funny hahahaehhhaheahe

men and minors dni

it's christmas eve.

your family doesn't do the traditional christmas, especially since your family wasn't even a family this time last year.

you and sevika's usual christmas tradition is a nice homemade meal by the fire, maybe exchanging a few gifts, ending the night in your matching mr. and mrs. claus lingerie (just two santa hat and whatever red underwear you can find.)

but now you've got the girls, so you're trying to get a little more festive.

jinx and isha drug home a fallen pine tree branch a few days ago, decorating it with streamers and paper snowflakes they made themselves.

you and sevika splurged on christmas lights, hanging them on your front porch and lining the walls of your home with the multi-colored twinkles. of course, you've both been hoarding gifts for the girls-- anything and everything you could find that you thought they might enjoy you've piled up in the you and sevika's super secret hiding spot (under the bed) waiting to be wrapped tonight when the girls go to sleep.

it's been fun!

isha's been endlessly enchanted by the sparkly lights lining the streets, she squeals each time she sees a rudolph or snowman decoration, and she's obsessed with all the sweet treats that come around with this time of year. hot chocolate, christmas cookies, candy canes-- isha loves it all.

jinx has been having a wonderful time introducing isha to all the fun traditions that come around with the season. she custom made herself and isha matching stockings (she made you, vi, and sevika stockings too-- but none of them were quite as sparkly and fun as isha's.) she's been referring to the little girl as her 'elf'-- isha always bursts into giggles when she does. and when there's fresh snow-- jinx has been bundling the little girl up and dragging her outside to introduce her to the joys of snowballs and snowmen and snow angels.

so, overall, you've all been feeling pretty jolly.

but... you're starting to get a little worried tonight, because isha's been becoming increasingly restless.

you've got the fire going, christmas music playing on the radio, the four of you sharing a plate of cookies and sipping on eggnog in matching flannel jammies.

isha's frowning down at her feet, a worried furrow in her brow.

jinx is fighting off sleep on the couch, sevika's stoking the fire. you reach out and nudge the little girl's shoulder.

"you okay, baby?" you ask. sevika blinks over at the pair of you concern on her face as she looks at isha.

isha blinks up at you with anxious eyes. what is santa? she signs.

you look at your wife, the two of you having a panicked, telepathic conversation.

should we tell her he's not real? sevika's face reads.

you shrug. she's only five, she deserves at least one year of believing, don't you think? you ask with a quirk of your brow.

sevika sighs and gestures for you to speak. you giggle.

"santa's an old man who lives in the north pole, making toys all year with the help of his elves. on christmas eve, when we're all sleeping, he travels across the world using magic and flying reindeer, leaving presents for well-behaved kiddos just like you!" you explain happily.

only, isha looks horrified.

he comes in our house when we're sleeping!? she signs. sevika chuckles. what if he robs us?

"nah, kid, santa's a jolly old man. he's not a thief. he's been doin' this for hundreds of years and he's i've never heard of anyone getting robbed by santa." sevika says.

isha still looks skeptical. okay... but what about the song? he sees me when i'm sleeping and knows when i'm awake? how?

sevika snorts. "you're awfully smart for a five year old." she says, ruffling her hair. "santa's magic kid, 's how it all works." she explains.

isha hums, kicking her feet and digesting the new information. jinx snorts awake, blinking around and trying to pretend she's been awake the whole time.

what if he doesn't like me? isha signs.

your heart breaks a little, and you wrap your arm around her. "why wouldn't santa like you, kiddo? you're a great little girl. way better than jinx-- and jinx never got coal."

"hey!" jinx protests.

isha giggles a bit, then she frowns again, a tear trailing down her cheek. but... he never left me presents before.

your heart shatters. beside you, sevika lets out a heartbroken whimper.

"oh, isha baby..." you coo, pulling the girl into your lap.

"santa's not real, isha." jinx cuts in. you and sevika gasp and glare at her and she chuckles. "what?! it's true. he's made up, he's a fairy tale-- parents use him to trick little kids into behaving well."

isha sighs in relief. so, if i'm bad ms. baby and big mama will still give me presents? she asks.

you burst into giggles, and beside you sevika cackles.

"'course, kiddo. sevika gave me a holiday present the same year i blew her fuckin' arm off-- there's not much you can do that'll stop 'em from spoiling you from now on." jinx says.

well... shit. now you've got tears in your eyes. you didn't know that about sevika, and it only makes you love her more. you reach out and grab her hand, only to find it shaking a little. she must be just as affected by jinx's words as you are.

it takes you a few seconds to make sure your voice won't wobble before you speak. "alright, speaking of-- the two of you gotta go to your room so me and sev can put your gifts out. try to sleep, please." you say.

jinx giggles and pulls isha in her arms, both of them hugging and kissing you and sevika goodnight before wandering to their room.

the second their door clicks closed, you and sevika are in eachother's arms, crying with gratitude for your girls; the best gift you could've fucking asked for.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite

[mywritersmind]

NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.2

christmas special

previous part next part

summary : Lando Norris’ teasing doesn’t stop on the slopes. With cold weather, bad skiing, lots of unwanted flirting (or at least that’s what lando thinks), and a soothing hot tub, another day in your new favorite christmas town is done.

og summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : suggestive comments! dual pov! swearing! i’m starting to love this fr! comment to be on tag list <3

words : 3885

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Morning, Sunshine!” Lando Norris swings my door open, leaning against the door and smirking at me.

Max pops out behind him, “Time to hit the slopes!”

P is the third in my door frame, “Up and at ‘em!” I loudly groan and push my face back into my pillow. Fuck my weird friends and their urge to piss me off.

⋆༺

lando

P forces us all into a shop to look for hand warmers before we go on the slopes. I find a candy cane and pop it in my mouth while looking around mindlessly, not truly caring about the small things.

I find Y/n looking at the Christmas cards. I tug on her braid, her head dipping back as she yelps slightly. Turning to me with a stern look on her face she says, “Can’t you go bother Max for once?”

I grin, the candy between my teeth. “You’re so much nicer to look at though.” Her eyes roll and she turns back to the cards. I get closer, looking over her shoulder, “Late shopping?”

She eyes me, “Just looking.”

I hum to the Christmas music playing and reach over her shoulder to grab a card, “I like this one.”

She scoffs, looking at it with me, “Of course you do.” I laugh as I read the piece of paper.

It has a little Santa stuck in a chimney and reads, ‘I might not come down the chimney, but will surely go down on you.’

She does not find this as funny as me, but I still clock the smile on her face. She smells like cinnamon and peppermint, but that could also be my candy.

“What did you ask Mr Claus for christmas?” I ask her as she turns to face me fully.

“Definitely not dirty Christmas cards.” She scoffs, motioning to the others on the shelf, “My ex to stop calling me? My work to pay better? A trip to Paris?”

I raise a brow, “You know there’s a great little feature called ‘block’, right?” I only really heard the first thing she said. I joked about her ex but am not liking the sound of him calling her still.

She sighs, crossing her arms over her sweater, “What’d you ask for, then? A good start from pole?”

“Mmm, there’s my little comedian.” I feel like I'm in F1 twitter when I'm around her. Biting the end of my candy cane, I answer her question, “I asked for Someone to go down on.”

She lets out a genuine laugh, “You mean someone to go down on you?”

“No.” It’s quick because I mean it. Her brow raises slightly as I look her up and down before leaving her in the paper aisle. I’m serious too, but I left out the part that I’d hoped would be her.

“Bob!” Max says as I walk up to him and P, they’re staring at gloves. “Need your help mate, pink or yellow?”

“God I was better off with your sister.” I quickly turn, making my way back to Y/n.”

She’s still next to the cards, I see the back of her as I approach. But something’s… off. There’s a man I do not know, making her laugh…?

Fuck no.

I can’t see her face but I can see his, definitely not her type. Blonde, blue eyes, swedish? Who cares.

I switch my candy cane to the other side of my mouth, walking up with one hand in my pocket and an annoying smile on my face.

The guy sees me and his smile instantly fades. I stand behind Y/n again as I hear her sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You’re Lando Norris.”

I blink, pulling the candy cane out of my mouth and looking him dead in the eye, “I don’t know who that is.”

He says an awkward goodbye and just as I think Y/n is going to yell at me, she turns, laughing. “You’re an ass.”

Her laugh makes something inside of me warm, “Yeah, I know.”

Max and P pop into our aisle, “I chose yellow!” Max smiles as his eyes move between the two of us.

I step around her, getting far before Max senses anything, “Perfect bro, really your color.” Y/n says sarcastically as she follows me out.

P gives us both a look as I stare down the blonde one last time.

⋆༺

I’m snowboarding with P while Max and Y/n are Skiing. I try not to laugh at Y/n as she falls on her ass but It just comes out! I ended up halfway down the hill while halfway on my board after she pushed me.

The snow last night was perfect and Max and I cruised for some time after losing Y/n and P. “I’m calling P.” I say after they stopped responding to us.

It’s Y/n who answers. She sounds panicked, “Lando!?”

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” I look at Max who sees my face and gets just as nervous as me. I can hear her heavy breathing, “Hey, seriously, what is it?”

“P got hurt and we’re in the lodge and-” Max stops breathing as Y/n sniffles, “And you two are so fucked and tell Max he’s sleeping on the couch!” Her change in tone makes my heart slow and my eyes roll.

“So she’s fine?” I ask, a little sassy now.

“Yes you asshole! We’re getting hot chocolate because you two ditched us!” Max grabs the phone and starts yelling at his sister.

I can’t help but laugh at the scene unfold. Max starts walking away, carrying his board as I struggle to unlock my boots to go after him.

P is most definitely is fine, and Max is most definitely laying it on thick. “My love!” He hugs me from behind as she rolls her eyes, bringing her drink to her lips.

I slide a chair next to Y/n and lean close to her. She doesn’t look at me, doesn’t say anything, barely even moves.

“You’re evil, Sunshine.” I see the smirk on her face as her shoulders lift up and down softly.

“Not evil, just motivated.” The corner of my mouth lifts, something that’s out of my control when I'm this close to her.

P and Max giggling force me to look away from her and focus on the loving couple. P has her hand on his face as he stands behind her chair still, “Alright! Who’s up to hit the slopes?”

I keep learning more and more things about Y/n on this trip and today is no different. This woman cannot ski.

“Christ, Y/n!” Max yells at her from the top of the mountain. We all just watched Y/n fall on her face while getting off the ski lift. “Should I even trust you to go down this mountain alone?”

“Don’t worry Maxie!” I grin, slapping my hand on Y/n’s head, “I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Right like you’re any better! If I leave her with you then she might just end up getting pranked on your instagram story.” P laughs at this.

“Why doesn’t she just chill on a bunny slope?”

“Um excuse me! I am not that bad! I can handle myself!” Right as she says this, she slips but catches herself, clearing her throat. “It’s fine.”

Besides my slight concern for Y/n slowly following behind us, it’s a great day on the slopes. None of us are experts so we keep it chill and fun. Plus I know i’ll be sore if I do too much.

P races me to the bottom for the third time and just when I'm about to tap out, I see some guy talking to Y/n. Her gloves and goggles are off and I'm so distracted that I almost get knocked over by Max trying to stop.

Max and I are both about to walk over to her but P stops us in our tracks, holding us by the hoods of our jackets. “You two are the absolute worst, she does not need this right now!”

“I’m not letting her have some holiday fling after her heart was ripped out by that idiot!” Interesting reaction from Max.

He’s always been passionate about his sister's safety and has not once liked any boyfriend. But this is new and a bit threatening.

“You don’t have to ‘let’ her do anything! She’s a grown woman who’s pissed off and deserves a good man.”

“Like he’s a good man?” I mumble, watching the guy bite his lip and flip back his stupid fluffy hair that falls in his eyes.

I can feel P staring at me. “Both of you shut up and go get in line for the lift.” Y/n turns back to us, clearing seeing us watching and looking away quickly.

She excuses herself, blushing a bit and it’s definitely not from the cold. I know there’s a disgusted expression on my face and I don’t even try to change it.

I know she’s pretty.

Scratch that, she’s beautiful. Like actually the sort of stunning that makes her feel like a magnet. I know this about her! I tell her often.

But I do forget that she actually is seen by everyone else around us. I see the turning heads, the guys going up to her, I've just chosen to ignore it. Twice in one day is a little too much for our wholesome Christmas week though.

Maybe it’s too much for me because I hate every man that even looks her way.

P breaks the silence, “He was cute.”

Max groans at his girlfriend's comment, “Don’t encourage her!”

“Chill out! He was way too old.” Max looks shocked that this is his only flaw, “And i’m spending christmas with you guys blah blah blah, come on! I’m ready to ski again.”

Max drops a glove off the ski lift and we fall back into our usual friendship banter. I do love my friends, even if Y/n won’t admit she likes me in the slightest.

I laugh the whole way down the snow, racing all three of my friends as Max tries to sabotage his sister.

“I’ll eat your fucking gingerbread house, Max!” Is Y/n’s threat to her brother as she zooms past me.

The Fewtrells are very serious when it comes to gingerbread.

I slow and grab some snow to throw at Max, I unfortunately miss him and hit P.

The blonde screams at the snow stuck on her goggles and beanie, “Oh you’re gonna get it-” I'm suddenly being chased by an angry girl in all pink.

I can hear Y/n laughing as Max almost gets taken out by a kid going faster than all three of us combined.

We all have a smooth run, and just when I actually believe that Y/n may be getting better, I'm shocked once more at her clumsiness.

She was ready to Ski again! She was not ready to be back on flat ground.

In fact, as soon as we start to move back to the ski lift, she twists her ankle.

“I’m fine!” She fights me, pulling her mask back up over her nose so I can’t see her facial expression.

“Lovely you’re clearly in pain.” P pulls off her goggles as Max asks for directions.

“I’m fine! Let’s go again.” When she starts to move forward, she winces. Max yells at her which makes her more upset and P more distressed.

“It’s probably just a sprain, let’s go to the medic.”

“No!” Y/n fights me again as she argues with Max and a very worried P, “I’m seriously f-”

If I hear her say ‘fine’ one more time, I might cut my ears off. She’s over my shoulder in an instant, her skis clicked off and in Max’s hands now. She hits my back but I can barely feel it through my layers.

“Let me down you cunt!” I’ve had Y/n on me far more times this trip than I expected.

“There’s that sunny personality I know and love.” I mumble as I maneuver my way through the crowd, smiling at the people who give me weird looks for having a screaming girl over my shoulder.

The medic area is small and already taken up by three crying kids. The look that Y/n gives me when I set her down might just be enough to catch me on fire.

I pull her goggles off her face as Max and P explain what happened and repeatedly explaining that she wasn’t actually skiing when she got hurt.

I wipe the snow off and smile at her pouty expression, “How much does it hurt?” I’m squatting in front of her as she’s sitting on a small bench.

She argues immediately, “Not even-” I unclip her boot and she makes a noise that is nowhere near pleasant.

“Tell the truth, sunshine.” something in her face changes when I say the nickname i’ve had for her since childhood. I don’t get to dwell on it because a woman in red and white smiles at us as she approaches.

Max and Y/n argue so much that we both get kicked into the hallway. I pull my beanie off and shake out my hair, “I know I get mad at you a lot.”

I raise a brow at my friend, one that’s rarely serious.

“But I do appreciate you caring for Y/n. Even when she’s a pain-”

“I can hear you!” Y/n tells from the room as I let out a dry laugh.

I whisper, “Just wanna keep that christmas spirit up.”

He narrows his eyes a bit, mumbling, “Right…”

⋆༺

Turns out, Y/n is fine. A bit sore but comfortably on Max’s back as we look at the reindeers, “Shit this really is a Christmas hallmark town.” Y/n says as P laughs at the creatures.

“I always thought reindeers were fake.” Max frowns as it eats a carrot from his hand hesitantly.

“What’s hallmark?” I say innocently. Little did I know I would be attacked by the three people standing next to me.

“Oh mate…” Max shakes his head, “You’re so single and it’s so obvious.”

P sighs, “And uncultured! We need to have a movie night.”

“It’s only the best TV Christmas program ever! There’s a million movies and they all loosely follow the same plot line with a couple of opposites and a small town and a failing business and an old man with a white beard who might be santa.

I laugh at them, “The fuck…? I have to watch now.”

“Not tonight!” P groans. It’s already pretty late, we grabbed dinner and are now walking through the town.

“Or tomorrow!” Max shrugs, “P and I are going out, date night!” Y/n’s jaw drops at this while I smile. “Please don’t kill my friend while we’re gone.”

Y/n rolls her eyes, still on Max’s back, “No promises.”

“Let’s get back.” I shiver, “P looks like she’s about to snap in half.”

She glares at me, “You’re the one whose teeth are chattering!”

⋆༺

you

“My whole fucking body hurts.” I groan as we walk into the house, the warmth comforting me instantly. Max throws the keys into the catch all and yawns.

P is practically asleep next to Max and Lando is not even out of the car yet, “I think I'm just gonna go up.” She hums, her eyes already closed.

“No!” I frown, pulling off my puffer, “Come in the jacuzzi with me, i’ll bring wine!”

She shakes her head, “Sorry, Y/n. I’m wiped.”

“Max?” I look to my brother as he brings his arm under his girlfriend to hold her up. He’s looking at her with such love even as she’s half asleep and practically drooling. “Whatever. I might snap in half if I don’t go in.”

I say goodnight to Max and P as I walk up the stairs alone. He was quiet the whole ride home which was definitely new but not unwelcome.

I change as quickly as possible into a brown bikini and wander into the cold with my uggs and a towel. The jacuzzi is already hot and soothes my aching legs and back.

I take in the cool air against my face and look up to the dark sky. It's absolutely covered in stars, the moon is most definitely the focal point.

I switch the jets on and close my eyes, breathing in slowly. Today was chaotic and all I needed was a good soak and some quiet.

As soon as I sink deeper into the water, the door creaks open and Lando appears. He’s listening to music and pauses when he sees me, pulling off his headphones.

“Oh.” Is all he says.

He steps into the jacuzzi, his arms bracing himself as he slowly sinks into the water. I can see every muscle in his body and am trying to hide the feeling I get as he lets out a moan. He sucks in a breath and leans his head back, his adam's apple bobbing as he sits down in the hot water.

“Shit that feels good.” His voice sounds tired and content with the steam.

I’m almost speechless at his casual display of what, to me, is deeply sexual. Then again, a lot of things Lando does are sexual.

“How’s the ankle?” he asks.

I cringe at the memory of us on the mountain, “Better.” I know he came here because he knew I would be. I sigh, “My legs hurt.”

“Want a massage?” His grin is promptly back on his face, cheeky as ever.

“Max is gonna beat your ass someday.” It’s true, the amount of times he’s yelled or thrown something at Lando because of his remarks is astounding. And hilarious.

He swings his arms around the sides of the hot tub, “I’d like to see him try.” He sounds cocky just saying it.

I sigh, looking out at the land beyond our house, “So would I, trust me.”

He sinks his arms back down in the water, “Oh please, don’t pretend you don’t like my teasing.”

“I hate it.” I say it to his face, a face that looks unconvinced as he dips under. He comes back up, wiping his face and pushing his curls out of the way.

He changes the subject and floats around a bit, “I thought you knew how to ski.”

I swear his sole purpose in life is to aggravate me! He’s sitting across from me, looking all innocent with those green fucking eyes that I can see even in the shitty light.

When I don’t answer, he turns and rolls his shoulders back. My eyes trail down his back… until his voice rings out again.

“Stop checking me out and come here.” I don’t know why I do it, there’s just something about his tone that urges me to float across the hot tub and rest my arms on the side.

“I got Max a present… but I don’t know if he’ll like it.” I raise a brow at Lando’s soft words.

“Um… what is it?”

He turns around so we’re facing opposite ways, my knees resting against the all around seat, “I can’t tell you.”

I sigh and lean my head against my arms, “Well how am I supposed to help then?”

“Ask Max what he wants.”

I roll my eyes, “He said he wants the Mclaren championship and that sort of happened so…”

Lando smiles at this, sighing softly and looking at me, “Well, what are you getting him?” His eyes are so sincere, one of the few times he isn’t flirting or teasing me. He must catch my odd pause because he furrows his brows, “You okay, Sunshine?”

I look back at the trees, “Stop calling me that.”

“I have other nicknames I'd be happy to use.” I can hear the smirk in his voice as I rub my eye and bite back a smile. I hate when he makes me laugh.

“So do I. They're all race related, sure you’d like to hear?” It’s like my words go completely over his head, his eyes go soft.

“You watch my races?”

I roll my eyes again, “That’s what you got from that?”

He scoots closer, teasing, “You watch my races!”

“I watch F1 races!” I retort, “Don’t act all high and mighty, you’re definitely not my favorite driver.”

“Who the fuck is your favorite then?”

I shrug, egging him on a bit, “Oscar and Lewis.” I can see him fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Nuh uh. I saw you on Max’s stream wearing my merch once!”

I scoff, “Once! I was cold and he gave me your hoodie. Apparently I can’t wear anything of Max's so I had no choice.”

“I knew he was my friend for a reason!” He acts like his life goal was finally figured out before smiling softly, “You looked good in it.”

I eye him solely because I know he’s watching me and I won’t give him the chance to not be intimidated, “I look good in a lot of things.”

His eyes rake down body, or at least as much as he can see with the jets still on. “I know.” I feel sick, but not nauseous, more like butterflies.

With one last smile, Lando tilts his head back and looks up at the sky. My ears are cold but I could care less. I feel weirdly at peace, even with the man who won’t stop bugging me.

His nose is red and It feels oddly endearing. I tear my eyes away from Lando and back to the snow that’s started slowly falling over us.

There’s a quietness here, one you don’t get in the city. I can hear Lando breathing and music far in the distance.

I don’t realize he’s staring at me until my eyes find his again. How long has he been watching me?

“Stop that.” I say quickly.

His head tilts back ever so slightly, a curl in his face and the corner of his lip turning upwards, “Stop what?” He blinks, as if he’s the most innocent man in the world.

I motion towards him and breathe out, “Thinking…”

“What do you reckon I'm thinking, Sunshine?” He’s making me angry and I don’t even know why.

“Nothing good…” I whisper it, It feels illegal to say it any louder than that.

His eyes flick to my lips, his nose scrunching a bit just as my heart starts beating faster, “It’s good. It’s about you.”

I hum, stretching my arms out in front of me, not caring about the cold against my fingertips, “I figured, you seem to have that theme often.”

He laughs at this, shaking out his hair and standing. I watch his toned body leave me in the water all alone. The heat is the exact same yet I feel much colder without him.

Lando grabs his towel, wiping off, not looking at me.

“You're not gonna tell me?” I can’t help but say it fast to get it over with.

He looks back, wiping his chest and shrugging, “Maybe later.”

[rayghosts]

tim drake is a rare case where every wild, out-of-context thing you hear about him gets even wilder with context

made up a fake uncle to avoid getting adopted? first he had to steal his dead dad's will and change it to include the name of his fake uncle, then he forged an entire legal paper trail to fool even batman, and finally hired an out-of-luck actor to play the uncle and had brainstorm sessions with him about his character backstory. judging from his surprised reaction when bruce offered to adopt him, he probably did this to avoid being put into foster care and didnt even consider that bruce might want to adopt him (even though he already adopted three orphans before him) (and then bruce learned about this and gave him more freedom and crimefighting gear so tim could like him)

snuck into gotham during no man's land? he did this twice, first by himself to meet his girlfriend in the hospital while she was giving birth (he snuck into the ER as a nurse), then with his young justice friends who thought he was having daddy issues with batman and wanted to help (this was before he was adopted by bruce) (they also picked up an atlantean tourist on the way who wanted to sightsee gotham)

blew up several of the league of assassins' secret bases? before that he spent days working with them as a member to gain their trust (this was when he robbed that art museum) and all the while they were holding his dad's coworker's daughter who came to search for tim and learned about his secret life as an assassin before she learned he was robin (and then somehow fell in love with him)

becomes evil batman who kills in the future? not only that, he also convinces his friends to be evil with him and then takes control of half the country right after he kills every rogue in gotham and also his aunt. tim fought this version of himself at least three times, and each time swore that he would never become gun batman (he still becomes gun batman)

used his own legal last name as a hero name? he didnt even come up with the idea for that, he met an alternate earth version of himself (also evil) who was using that name and thought "oh that's a good name" and stole it for himself. he didnt bother to check if other drake's identity was public before he started using it. then he got pulled aside and told off personally by batman for using such a dumb name and that's why he's not called drake anymore

insulted jason to his face while he was trying to kill him? did this multiple times and even kicked jason in the nuts once (not while they were fighting, just as payback) (he's jason's favorite brother now)

and then anything that happened with young justice doesnt need any context because it's exactly as weird as it sounds. yes, he did save the fate of a planet by playing baseball with his friends. yes, they did invade an entire sovereign nation to rescue their one friend's parents who had turned into babies. yes, they did see santa claus die in a fiery explosion

[selinay-in-wonderland]

ART THE CLOWN X FEMALE READER (CHRISTMAS EVE) 🎄🍪

—————————————————————————-

It was a quiet Christmas Eve. The kind you liked most. The warmth of your little home contrasted with the snow falling gently outside. You’d just finished putting away the small decorations, the soft glow of twinkling lights reflecting off the windows. Your modest tree stood by the corner, decked with ornaments you’d collected over the years—nothing extravagant, just little pieces that made you smile.

You hadn’t planned on having company. You rarely did. Between your shyness and social anxiety, you preferred the quiet of your home, where things were predictable, where you didn’t have to worry about what people thought of you.

You curled up on the couch, your oversized sweater enveloping you like a cozy hug, and sipped from your mug of hot chocolate. It was the perfect night—a small, peaceful Christmas Eve all to yourself.

But then, you heard it.

A soft creak. The sound of footsteps, almost imperceptible but there.

You sat up, your heart skipping a beat. It wasn’t the wind, and you knew it wasn’t the creaky old floorboards. You hadn’t left the door unlocked… had you?

Before you could fully process the thought, the footsteps grew louder, closer. Your pulse quickened as you stood, holding your mug like a fragile shield.

Then, out of the shadows of the dimly lit hallway, he appeared.

A man—no, a clown—stepped into your living room, dressed in a stained, tattered Santa Claus suit. The fur lining of his costume was yellowed with age, and the red fabric was smudged with dark stains you didn’t want to examine too closely. His white, painted face was frozen in a grotesque grin, black eyes gleaming as they locked onto yours.

You gasped, dropping your mug, the hot chocolate spilling onto the floor, but you were too stunned to care. Your mind raced—Who was this? How did he get in? But your body froze, your usual response to confrontation kicking in. It wasn’t that you weren’t scared—you were—but fear for you often manifested as being trapped, unable to react.

Art the Clown stood there, perfectly still, his head tilted to one side, his black lips stretched into that eerie, permanent smile. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. He just watched you, as if waiting to see what you would do.

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry. This had to be some kind of prank, right? Someone dressed as a clown for Christmas? Maybe one of your neighbors playing a joke?

But as your eyes met his, you realized there was something off about him—something much darker. There was no mischief in his eyes, no playful spark. Just emptiness. And yet, despite the eerie stillness of his body, you sensed that he was studying you, just as confused by your reaction as you were by his presence.

Your instinct told you to run, to scream, but instead, you took a step back, your voice barely a whisper. “Who… are you?”

Art didn’t respond. Of course, he wouldn’t. His silence was his trademark. Instead, he raised one gloved hand slowly, mimicking a wave—mocking, almost theatrical. His smile stretched wider as if to say, Look, I’m friendly.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but instead of running, you stood there, frozen by a strange combination of fear and curiosity. You had always seen the good in people. Always. Even when it didn’t make sense. It wasn’t that you were naïve—you just believed that there was always something redeemable in everyone. Maybe this person, dressed up like Santa, had some kind of reason for being here. Maybe it was a misunderstanding.

“I-I don’t know who you are,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “But… if you need something, I can help.”

That’s when Art’s grin faltered ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. He took a step closer, his movements eerily graceful, like a predator assessing its prey. But there was no malice in his expression—just that unsettling, twisted amusement, tinged with curiosity. He was intrigued by you, by your calmness, your lack of panic.

You took another step back, your breath shaky. “It’s… Christmas Eve,” you added, feeling ridiculous for trying to explain something so obvious. “Are you lost?”

Art mimicked a deep, exaggerated frown, his shoulders slumping dramatically as if he were the one in need. His gloved hands fluttered to his chest in mock despair, his entire body language shifting to exaggerate the sadness you had suggested.

You blinked, unsure whether to laugh or cry. Was this really happening? A murderous-looking clown was in your living room, dressed as Santa, miming some bizarre performance in response to your kindness.

Your kind nature kicked in again—the part of you that wanted to see the best in people, that always assumed there was a reason behind even the strangest behavior. He was miming like a performer, sure, but maybe he didn’t mean any harm. Maybe he just needed help, attention, or… you didn’t even know anymore.

“I-I have cookies,” you stammered, not sure what else to say. “If… if you’re hungry?”

Art’s eyes gleamed at the offer, and he straightened up, his smile returning in full force. He gave you an enthusiastic thumbs-up, his head nodding vigorously. You couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of relief wash over you. Was he seriously accepting your offer of cookies?

You moved slowly toward the kitchen, your body tense as you kept an eye on him. He followed, his movements completely silent, gliding almost like a shadow behind you. The only sound was the faint jingle of the bells on his Santa hat.

Your hands trembled as you reached for the plate of Christmas cookies you had baked earlier. You set them down on the kitchen counter, your heart racing as you tried to process what was happening.

Art leaned forward, inspecting the cookies with exaggerated interest. He picked one up, held it to his ear, and gave a comical nod of approval before pretending to take a huge bite out of it. His body convulsed in an exaggerated chewing motion, as if savoring the flavor, though he didn’t actually eat it.

A nervous laugh escaped you, surprising even yourself. Despite the fear gnawing at your insides, there was something about his antics that almost made you forget the danger. Almost.

He pointed to the cookies, then back to you, giving you a thumbs-up. You nodded, unsure of what else to do. “Y-You’re welcome,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Then, without warning, Art’s eyes narrowed, his smile twisting into something more mischievous. He reached into the sack slung over his shoulder and pulled out a small, wrapped present. He held it out to you, wiggling it slightly in his hand, as if daring you to take it.

You hesitated. The wrapping paper was torn and stained, and something about the way he presented it made you uneasy. But then again, everything about this situation made you uneasy.

With shaky hands, you reached out and took the gift. It was light, almost weightless, and you had no idea what could be inside. You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you carefully peeled back the paper.

Inside was a small, cracked snow globe. The glass was chipped, and the tiny house inside was barely visible through the clumps of fake snow stuck to the bottom. It was… sad, really. Broken.

You stared at it for a moment, then looked up at Art, unsure of how to respond. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Art’s eyes flickered with something you hadn’t seen before—confusion. He wasn’t used to this. To someone accepting his strange gestures with such sincerity, such gratitude. His smile faltered for just a second, as if he didn’t quite know what to make of you.

Then, in a swift motion, he straightened up, his grin returning in full force. He mimed tipping a hat to you, his body language exaggerated and theatrical, before turning on his heel and gliding back toward the door.

You stood there, clutching the snow globe, your mind racing. What had just happened? Who was this man—this clown? And why hadn’t he hurt you? He could have easily… but he hadn’t.

As Art reached the door, he paused, turning back to look at you one last time. His eyes lingered on you, and for a brief moment, you saw something beneath the eerie exterior. Confusion. Curiosity. Maybe even a flicker of… respect?

Without another sound, he disappeared into the night, the door closing softly behind him.

You stood there for a long time, staring at the spot where he had been. Your heart was still racing, but the fear had faded into something else—something more complex. You had no idea who he was or why he had come to your house, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you.

As you sat in the soft glow of your living room, your gaze drifted back to the broken snow globe resting on the mantle. It seemed almost magical, despite its fractured state. Intrigued, you picked it up again, cradling it in your hands and feeling the weight of its history. The delicate glass felt cool against your skin, and the world within it was still, waiting for your curiosity to stir it to life.

You tilted the globe gently, watching the tiny flakes of faux snow swirl around. With a soft shake, you let it settle again, and that’s when you noticed it. Nestled among the miniature decorations of a quaint little house was a small figure, partially obscured by the swirling snow.

You leaned closer, your heart quickening as you focused on the little scene within. As the snow began to settle, the figure came into full view, and you gasped, your breath hitching in your throat.

Inside the globe stood a miniature version of Art the Clown, perfectly crafted in exquisite detail. He wore a tiny Santa suit, complete with bright red fabric adorned with fluffy white trim. The suit hugged his small frame, the colors vibrant against the stark white of the snow. His face was painted in the signature stark white, with exaggerated black eyebrows arched in a playful expression. His lips curled into a wide, almost mischievous grin, revealing sharp little teeth, which only added to the character’s charm rather than fright.

A tiny Santa hat was perched atop his head, tilted to one side, and it danced slightly as the globe settled. His eyes were bright and lively, capturing the essence of the man you had just encountered—curious yet playful, a mix of innocence and mischief. It was almost as if he was beckoning you to join in on some festive fun, despite the bizarre nature of his presence.

Around him, the miniature landscape was adorned with tiny gifts, faux snowflakes, and even a small, decorated Christmas tree. The entire scene felt alive, imbued with a strange magic that made your heart swell. You could almost hear the jingle of distant bells, feel the warmth of Christmas spirit that enveloped the globe.

Then, without warning, a chill swept through the room, causing you to shiver slightly.

Suddenly, the glass of the globe cracked, sending a shockwave through the room. You gasped and dropped it, but instead of shattering, the globe exploded in a burst of shimmering mist that filled the air, swirling like smoke.

Out of the mist, a shadow emerged, and your breath caught in your throat as Art materialized before you, stepping out from the darkness, his expression eerily calm. He was right there, in your living room, just as he had been before—but somehow more solid, more real.

His eyes locked onto yours, an intense gaze that spoke volumes, and yet he remained silent. The room felt charged with tension, the air thick with a mix of fear and something you couldn’t quite identify. He took a slow step closer, and your heart raced, caught between terror and an inexplicable attraction to his dark presence.

As he approached, you couldn’t look away. His costume was slightly tattered, his face painted with the same twisted smile, but now it felt oddly intimate in the closeness of the moment. You felt drawn to him, despite everything that screamed to run away.

But then you noticed something—your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and for a split second, you thought you saw vulnerability flash in his eyes. Was it possible? Could there be more to him than the monster you feared?

The lights flickered again, casting a warm glow that softened the edges of his terrifying appearance. In that moment, it felt as though time stood still. You could either embrace the fear or take a step forward, drawn by an unexplainable connection.

And just like that, as if sensing your hesitation, he reached out a gloved hand, palm up, inviting you to choose. The gesture was both terrifying and strangely comforting.

You took a deep breath, knowing you were standing at a crossroads—one path leading back to safety and the other into the darkness, where the lines of fear and fascination blurred.

You reached out, hesitantly placing your hand in his, feeling the coolness of his touch. A rush of emotions surged between you, as if the moment had the power to change everything. In that shared silence, you realized that despite the horror, you felt more alive than you had in a long time.

As you held his hand, the atmosphere shifted. The air thickened with unspoken promises, and Art's eyes glimmered with a dark intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He leaned closer, and without a word, he began to move, guiding you into a slow, hesitant dance.

Your heart raced, a mix of fear and thrill coursing through your veins. The world outside faded, leaving only the soft flickering of Christmas lights and the haunting melody of a distant carol. Art twirled you gently, his grip firm yet surprisingly tender. It felt surreal, as if you were trapped in a dream where the lines between danger and desire blurred into an intoxicating haze.

You moved in sync, the dance a strange blend of elegance and unease. Every step felt like a delicate negotiation—a silent agreement between you two. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it felt like to make a deal with the devil: exhilarating, terrifying, and utterly captivating.

As he spun you around, the shadows danced along the walls, elongating and twisting in the soft light. You found yourself laughing softly, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it. Art paused, his head tilting slightly, as if confused by the sound. You were surprised by your own reaction—how could you be laughing when you were dancing with a killer?

But then, you looked into his eyes, and something shifted. In that moment, the darkness around him seemed to melt away, revealing a glimmer of humanity beneath the surface. There was a vulnerability in his gaze that resonated with you, a reminder that even the most monstrous of beings could yearn for connection.

He pulled you closer, the warmth of his body contrasting with the chill that had initially filled the room. It was as if the dance was a ritual, sealing the unspoken bond that had formed between you. The world outside was forgotten; all that mattered was this moment.

With each step, you felt your fears dissipate, replaced by an unexpected thrill. The gentle sway of your bodies, the rhythm of your hearts—it was intoxicating. This was no longer just a dance; it felt like a pact. You were choosing to embrace the darkness, to see past the clownish façade and into the depths of his enigmatic soul.

Then, just as you thought you were losing yourself completely, Art’s expression shifted. His grin widened, revealing a playful glint in his eyes. With a sudden burst of energy, he spun you out, your body twirling in a flourish. Laughter bubbled up again, this time more freely, filled with exhilaration and delight.

He drew you back in, and the moment was electric. You could feel the weight of the world pressing against you, the realization that this was a moment you’d never forget. In the quiet chaos of the dance, you found a kind of freedom—one that defied the boundaries of fear and embraced the beauty of the unknown.

And then, as the music faded into the background, you locked eyes with Art, the reality of the moment crashing down around you. You both stood on the precipice of something dangerous, something that could change you forever.

With a breathless smile, you knew that the dance was more than just movement; it was a shared understanding that you were both caught in this dark world together.

In that instant, you realized you weren’t just dancing with a monster—you were dancing with a soul that craved connection, just as you did.

The shadows flickered around you as you continued to sway in silence, knowing that, in this moment, you had forged a bond that was both thrilling and terrifying—an unbreakable contract made in the stillness of Christmas Eve.

[nhlclover]

HO HO HO! COLE CAUFIELD

— event masterlist !

pairing: fem!reader x cole caufield

summary: cole draws the short straw and has to dress as santa claus for the team party

warnings: mentions of kids + habs players

wc: 1.32k

notes: fic nine of my twelve days of christmas! sort of inspire by how jeremy swayman would dress up for linus ullmarks kids. i just know cole would be so engaged with those kids, pretending like he hates it but he's actually having fun being dressed as santa

The party was already in full swing by the time you and Cole arrived, the low hum of conversation layered over bursts of laughter and the occasional shriek of children playing tag around the towering Christmas tree in the center of the room. The festive energy in Nick and Caitlin’s home was contagious — the twinkling light, the faint scent of cinnamon and pine, and the gleaming smiles of the players and their families made the room feel alive.

Cole, beside you, was decidedly less enthused.

“I’m just saying,” he muttered, his hand resting lightly on your back as you navigated through the crowd. “It’s not fair that just because we don’t have kids, I automatically have to be Santa this year.”

“That’s not the only reason and you know it. You were the one who lost the bet.” you pointed out with a grin, enjoying his simmering annoyance far more than you should. “Besides, you make a cute Santa.”

He shot you a flat look, though the corner of his mouth twitched in the faintest hint of a smile. “Santa’s supposed to be, like, jolly and old. Not…” He gestured vaguely to himself. “Whatever I am.”

“Grumpy and young?” you teased, leaning into him. “Don’t worry. I’m sure the kids will love you.”

His response was a low grumble as you slipped into the guest room where the Santa costume was laid out, along with a fat suit to help Cole mimic the jolly old man's build.

“Get changed, Claus,” you said, giving him a playful nudge.

With a dramatic sigh, Cole began to change into the suit. You could hear him muttering something under his breath about “team spirit” and “ridiculous traditions,” but you knew he’d go through with it. That was just Cole — he’d complain all he wanted, but in the end, he always showed up.

A couple of minutes later, after struggling to pull the red garments on, Cole had become Santa Claus. The red suit hung awkwardly on him, and the faux beard was slightly askew, revealing the shadow of his jawline. His hair, always a little too wild to fully cooperate, stuck out from under the Santa hat. And yet, somehow, he made it work — or maybe that was just the biased opinion of someone who was hopelessly in love with him.

“Ho, ho, ho,” he deadpanned, his voice as flat as the look he was giving you.

“Perfect,” you said, grinning as you adjusted the beard slightly. “You’ll have the kids lining up in no time.”

Sure enough, as soon as he stepped into the main room, the children noticed Santa’s arrival. A collective gasp rippled through the group, followed by excited shrieks and a mad dash toward Cole. A wave of tiny hands tugged at his sleeve and bounced around him like he was a celebrity.

To his credit, Cole softened almost instantly. His shoulders dropped, and though he still looked a little awkward in the suit, a patient smile replaced the scowl. He sank into the oversized armchair that had been prepped for Santa, leaning back with a sigh.

One by one, the kids lined up to share their Christmas wishes. One girl asked for a Barbie dreamhouse; a little boy rambled enthusiastically about a remote-controlled dinosaur; and Hudson Matheson earnestly requested a new puppy even though you could both see Mike and Emily mouthing “NO” from across the room.

You leaned against the doorway, trying to contain your grin. There was something inexplicably heart-melting about watching Cole interact with the kids. He wasn’t trying too hard — just enough to make them feel heard and special.

At one point, David Savard’s young boy piped up, “Santa, you’re kinda short.”

The room fell silent for a split second before a ripple of chuckles from the adults broke the tension. Cole’s head turned slowly toward you, his expression deadpan, though his eyes held a glimmer of amusement. You could practically hear the sarcastic remark forming in his head, but instead, he leaned down toward the boy.

“Short?” he asked, lowering his voice like he was letting the boy in on a big secret. “That’s just because the North Pole has less gravity. Makes us all a little taller up there. But when I come down here, I, uh, shrink a bit.”

His brow furrowed as he tried to process this information. After a moment, he nodded, satisfied with the answer. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing as Cole shot you a quick, triumphant smirk.

The questions about the North Pole kept coming. “How do reindeer fly?” asked one little girl with bright pigtails. “Is it true elves don’t sleep?” asked another. Cole handled each inquiry with surprising ease, weaving a tapestry of whimsical explanations about reindeer protein shakes and elves who take “snow naps” instead of sleeping.

The more you watched, the harder it became to ignore the growing warmth in your chest. You weren’t sure how long you stood there, simply watching your boyfriend interact with the kids, but eventually, Nick sidled up next to you, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

“Gotta admit,” he said, grinning as he watched Cole answer yet another question, “he’s better at this than I thought he’d be.”

You laughed softly. “Yeah, he’s pretty great.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “You’re totally swooning right now.”

You didn’t bother denying it. How could you, when Cole was sitting there, surrounded by a crowd of giggling kids, wearing a Santa suit that somehow made him even more endearing?

Eventually, Nick stepped in to relieve Cole of his duties, telling the kids that Santa had to get back to the North Pole to work on the gifts they’d requested. Cole waved goodbye, returning hugs to the tots who came and hugged his hip. You slipped out of the room shortly after Cole did, going back to the spare room he used as a change room. When you entered, Cole was slumped down on the bed, the fake beard askew and the Santa hat sitting crooked on his head. You approached him, grinning as he peeled off the beard and ran a hand through his mussed hair.

“Well?” he asked, his voice tired but still laced with a faint hint of amusement. “How’d I do?”

“Adorable,” you said, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “You might’ve just saved Christmas.”

Cole groaned dramatically, though the corners of his mouth curved upward. “Great. From now on, I’m Santa every year, huh?”

You laughed, sitting beside him. “Oh, absolutely. You’re a natural.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, his lips twitching as if suppressing a grin. “You know, you were staring at me pretty hard back there. Almost like you were… enjoying the whole Santa look a little too much.”

Heat crept up your neck. “What? No. That’s—”

“Oh, no need to be embarrassed,” he cut you off, leaning back with an exaggerated stretch. “If you’re into jolly old men in red suits, who am I to judge?”

“Actually,” you said, the corners of your mouth lifting, “I’m more into what’s under the suit.”

His eyes fully opened now, the exhaustion replaced with something sharper, warmer, as his gaze fixed on yours. “Yeah?” he murmured, his voice dropping just slightly, invitingly.

You leaned closer, one hand settling on his thigh, the grin on your face softening into something more intimate. “Yeah,” you replied, your tone leaving no room for argument. “Grumpy, young, and ridiculously good with kids? That’s the real magic.”

He looked at you for a beat, his amusement softening into something warmer. “You really know how to make a guy feel special,” he teased, but his hand slid up to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Even when he’s wearing a fat suit.”

You laughed and leaned into his touch, the festive sounds of the party fading into the background. “Merry Christmas, Cole.”

He grinned, tilting his forehead to yours. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

[mixingandmelting]

No, Between the Two Of Us - None of Us Are the Sane One

Summary: Childhood to lover trope feat. Dick Grayson where you were best friends with him since the start of his Robin days which was also when he first having a crush on you

Words: 2.7 k

A/N: First time posting in the DC fandom, so please be gentle with me! Also there will be a version for Jason and Tim. ; )

Being besties with Batman and the first Robin is an experience to say the least. Many fantasize how it might go, romanticizing the prospect and excitement the friendship may bring. For you? Zero out of ten, would not recommend. The public masses claimed them to be heroes, but only you and villains know how unhinged they were. You did not appreciate playing the middleman when the two gave each other the cold shoulder or being the center of their amusement. Especially with Robin. You swore on your nonexistent Aunt Patty’s grave that boy was chaotic evil, the agent of all chaos. You grew paranoid for months having been pranked by him every time he swung by so you wouldn’t do “something stupid”. Or so he said only to get you to scream at the top of your lungs whenever you were hanging around on your apartment’s roof, creeping silently towards you and whispering the most random fact he found. He would then cackle with glee and proceed to rub on the wound by reminding you how the first meeting between you three which led to the constant check-ups  (a whole, another story you rather not remember involving a much younger you and Robin, Santa Claus, and pajamas printed all over with I <3 Batman and Robin).  You tried to get back at him multiple times. You never once won. 

However, there were times when he wasn’t pranking you. Moments like those, he’d simply sit and brood next to you, waiting for you to ask what’s wrong before starting his rant about Batman. With little to no knowledge said man, himself, would visit you and ask about him a few minutes after he leaves. Yes, you did question why they thought it would be a good idea for a kid younger than themselves to mediate between their fights only to give up  when you found yourself going in circles as to why you still chose to be friends with them. Way too complicated and big of a headache for your small head. It didn’t seem like Robin cared either, as he would tell you everything on his mind, not a single thing held back. Hands being held or a head leaning on a shoulder was a must when he talks. When that tradition started you genuinely had no idea but you never thought about it. More like you can’t when you saw the expression he wore. 

What started when both of you were merely children continued on to high school, where you discovered his identity. The way you found out was disappointingly anticlimactic. After the many years you hung out with him, of course you would recognize him right away. The same gremlin laughter, the corny jokes he shared with his fellow peers. Oh, and the fact his hairstyle stayed the same as both Robin and Dick Grayson. 

Dick, on the other hand, obviously hadn’t thought through that. At all. Okay, sure, you were on the more observant side but still, you shouldn’t have been able to piece all that together within a semester. He wasn’t even at school often because of all the missions to the point the school had been frequently calling Bruce and Alfred about his many absences. There were plenty of guys who sounded, talked, and looked like him, including his height. He was careful. Shouldn’t have been a “dead give away”, whatever that meant. So when he came over to comfort you after a mission, hearing how you got stood up at the school’s dance, he wasn’t prepared for you calling him by his name. Worse, he couldn’t even play dumb or pretend to not know what you were saying. Not when you gave him the same eyes you always did that held comfort and support he always seeked, as if understanding everything he was going through. 

With the cat out of the bag, he soon had you meet Batman as Bruce Wayne. He enjoyed the mini meltdown and sense of horror you were having, realizing just who exactly you’ve been chummy with all those years. Maybe he shouldn’t have gloated how you should've treated them better when you gave a mean, actually painful jab to his ribs. Still was worth it. So was the impromptu meeting with his team, Teen Titans, when you started working part-time at the pizza place they always stopped by to eat when celebrating a mission gone well. You didn’t know how silly and adorable you were acting, not as bad when meeting Bruce, but definitely shy and frazzled from being star struck. Well, for a bit that was. An hour later, you were sitting and laughing with them about a mission that involved Condiment King. The way you smiled and brightened the room had him thinking for a moment that he had a shot. After all, you practically met everyone he considered family. It had to be a sign for him to seal the deal. 

It stopped and ended as a thought. When you all started talking about love, he didn’t know as much as how he didn’t know which hurt him more; you saying you weren’t going to be in a relationship ever or you, not friendzoned, but bro-zoned him. You don’t notice the way Wally stiffens or the worried glances Donna shot at him. Starfire voiced opposition to your decision to stay single. Raven, not knowing anything, gave you her support. He most definitely did not appreciate Gar feigning disappointment only to get snapped at for going over the line by Vic. 

He didn’t know how to act around you afterwards when he escorted you home. He knew he was making you worried,  more so when he kept telling you he was fine when you asked if you had done anything to make him uncomfortable. He wanted things to stay the same. Retain the precious relationship that led to his love for you. There was no intention to make that night his last night with you. Yet, how was he supposed to act when he found out he never had a chance from the start? As crazy as it sounded, he once even thought about you being a Grayson. Of course not in high school; when the two of you got much older. It filled him with guilt when he heard from Bruce how you were asking about his well-being. It felt like a knife was being twisted in his heart when letters you wrote were slipped between his homework whenever he had gone to school to get them, belatedly realizing he never gave you his number. All he could reply back was the same, lousy excuse of being busy with missions. 

You, on the other hand, waited, hoped, prayed that Dick would visit you again. You knew somehow it was your fault and you wanted to apologize, make things right. Every night you stood on the rooftop, doing homework or simply reading. The nights you don’t, you left his favorite candy with a note. Batman was the only one who visited you then, though his visits were becoming rare from the increase of crimes occurring all over the world. It was through him you learned about Dick’s decision to leave the state and go to some college in New York by the end of the school year. You ended up rejecting the invitation to go with him to the graduation ceremony, knowing there was no point in seeing Dick again.

So really, Dick should’ve seen it coming when he learned from Alfred that you were leaving on the day of. As if to one up him, you weren’t leaving New Jersey.  You were leaving the states. It didn’t help that he had been forced to hand over Robin’s mantle to Jason not too long after the rejection. He had to face another heartbreak, as he mourned over the Robin who first met you, the body wonder who was your best friend, was no more. He naively thought he had time. To debut and cement his role as Nightwing, leader of Teen Titans while getting himself back together, all to come back to you. It was apparent enough to know he didn’t. Finding out on the day of, his hands fumbled with the keys to his motorcycle, rushing to get to the airport on time. Despite breaking every traffic law in Gotham (which he ended up owing Babs on not getting taken to jail or paying a big ass fine), he arrived too late. He couldn’t call out to you, his eyes taking in the glimpse of your hair  through cracks of the closing gates to TSA. 

Years passed and he tried to get over you. First with Starfire, then with Babs. Zatanna, Helena, Bea, Lori, Clancy, mixing one-night stands in between. But none of them ended up working for him. None of them were you. They didn't have the same humor you had. They didn’t give him the same warm hugs you gave him without him ever having to ask because you simply knew. Hell, the whole reason for things to end with each of them was because they called him out for it. His whole team did. Even his whole family including Bruce, Steph, Duke, Tim, and Damian. He’s not going to talk about what happened with Alfred, Jason, and Cass. He still gets nightmares for what they put him through. 

As he continued failing on nurturing a permanent relationship, you found yourself frequently buying magazines or skimming on the webs on the latest news and gossip covering vigilantes and heroes during your study abroad. You had brought with you newspaper clippings you kept on the Robin you still missed and cherished. You could count the number of times Robin changed, recognizing none of them were Dick. Yet you never found the heart to ask Bruce what had happened, if he was okay. Nor would you have been able to when you left without ever getting some sort of contact information to stay in touch with him. 

Now, he’s in his early thirties and you’re in your late twenties. So much has happened during your lives but you still think of each other. All the what-ifs playing in the back of each other's minds, regret and hope constantly raging back and forth. But not once have either you met even when you came back a few days ago. 

Currently, you’re sitting on the ledge of the same roof of where everything began. Gotham glows beautifully without the stars, its artificial lights so bright it makes the city shine as much as it does in the day. Kicking your legs, you hum mindlessly enjoying the scene. That is until someone calls out your name. 

Your grip slips and you scream, nearly falling to your demise. Or about to until a warm arm quickly wraps itself around your torso and pulls you over to safety. Gently the person places you on the concrete floor, a few seconds passing afterwards as your mind registers you’re still alive. Guess they weren’t expecting you to get angry, two hands quickly in the air and sputtering apologies when you stand back up and rage why no sane person would ever scare the living daylights out of a person sitting on a roof along with profanities that could shame Deathstroke and bring pride to Red Hood. You’re panting in the end and reach towards the can of soda you had placed when you were sitting. And when you take a sip, it then hits to who you had raged on. 

He looks away, a hand covering his face from holding back the laughter that threatens to spill out when your face matches a tomato. You’re barely whispering when you apologize for the profanities, of course you aren’t going to apologize for everything else you both know you’re very much right on that part, horrified and embarrassed that you had done that to a very famous vigilante. Out goes his self-control when you go absolutely silent and start to fidget from the lack of response. He bursts at the face you make from mortification. 

“You haven’t changed one bit.”

You freeze at those words. 

“Do…I know you?”

Immediately he stops. The air turns tense, you looking at him with wariness as he slowly turns himself completely towards you. Gently, he calls out your name. When you continue to look confused, he does it again, taking a step closer and pulling off his mask. 

He can see so much denial in your shaking eyes. The desire of you wanting him to say the person standing in front of you isn’t him. He’s quick to grab both wrists and root you on spot, keen and trained eyes already noticing your feet turning to make a run for it. His grip on you is firm but soft, enduring all the words you thoughtlessly, recklessly say while tugging to get him to let go. 

Eventually you stop, acknowledging there isn’t going to be a chance again in the future for you to speak to him or him to you. In fact, you both most likely would  evade each other for the rest of life if not for now. When he’s sure that you won’t escape, slowly, he lets go and takes a step back.

“..Why?”

There’s a tremor in your voice, the area of concrete in front of your feet becoming bi-colored. You don’t scream. You don’t raise your voice. Dick can feel himself break, his throat and chest constricting, dawning on him how not once you fault him for ruining the friendship between the two of you while listening about, for the longest time, all you desired was to apologize. When you weren’t even in the wrong. Too soon your words start to mesh and trip over each other. He takes the opportunity to open his mouth. 

“I love you.”

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting a smile fill with bitterness and self-loath. Your heart initially refuses to accept everything he tells you, how long ago he started to have a crush on you to how it ended up turning into love. You can never relate how his love for you ruined him where all his relationships with others never lasted for long when it’s him. The gremlin child that held confidence to defy everything on Earth, the gremlin child you developed feelings for. Silence hangs in the air once he’s done. All of a sudden you’re livid. Offended. Dick doesn’t notice, going from rubbing the back of his neck to shifting his weight from one foot to the other, wanting to give you the space to soak everything in. When he finally can’t wait anymore, he rushes to think of something, even resorting to begging for your forgiveness. Not looking down at your hands that slowly reaches for his collar.

“Please, all I really want to say is that I'm sorry. I know I was a dick to you so I don’t even deserve to have chance to ask you to be f-”

It takes Dick a hot minute to realize what’s happening before melting in. His hands make their way towards yours, pulling them up and placing them on his cheeks. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss without crossing a nonexistent line that you probably aren’t ready for. It ends up being the right call when you end up breaking it, lack of oxygen in your lungs from having no experience.

“Next time, just ask instead of assuming things.” You growl, pinching the flesh on both sides of his face.

He doesn’t reply or lets you say another word, his soft and warm lips placed right back on yours where they belong. Where they should’ve been since back then. Too bad the second kiss doesn’t last longer than the first, all of sudden hearing wolf-whistles around the two of you. Everyone from the Bat family and the Titans reveal themselves on the roof, some clapping, most teasing on how long it took for you two to get together. You quickly duck your face into his chest while Dick chuckles and pulls you into a tight embrace. 

Later on, a ring adorns his and your left hand. Never once getting taken off, no matter the reason. 

[morbidology]

This photograph shows the mask worn by "The Beast Of Jersey."

Edward Paisnel was born on November 27, 1925, in Jersey, Channel Islands. Little is known about his early life, but he appeared to live an unremarkable existence. He married Joan Paisnel, who ran a children's home on the island, and was known in the community as a family man who would often play Santa Claus for local children during the holidays. This public persona stood in stark contrast to the horrors he would later unleash on the island.

Between 1960 and 1971, Paisnel committed a series of brutal attacks on women and children in Jersey. His modus operandi was chilling—he would break into homes at night, wearing this grotesque homemade mask and disguising his appearance with wigs and old clothing. He often donned nail-studded wristlets, which he used to subdue his victims.

The victims, ranging from young children to women in their 30s, were often sexually assaulted after being bound and gagged. Paisnel's ability to evade capture for over a decade, despite the best efforts of the Jersey police, earned him the moniker "The Beast of Jersey." His crimes sparked widespread fear, with residents living in constant dread of the next attack.

The Jersey police launched an extensive manhunt to capture the elusive predator. The police were puzzled by the attacker’s ability to evade detection and the apparent randomness of his crimes. Despite numerous leads and a growing profile of the perpetrator, Paisnel remained at large for years.

His luck finally ran out on July 10, 1971, when he was arrested not far from his home. That evening, Paisnel was spotted driving erratically and failed to stop at a police roadblock. This reckless behaviour caught the attention of the officers, who pursued him and eventually stopped his car. Inside, they found a number of disturbing items that confirmed their worst fears: a homemade mask with deformed features, a wig, and various items of clothing that matched descriptions provided by Paisnel's victims.

In November 1971, Edward Paisnel stood trial for 13 counts of assault, rape, and sodomy, as well as several counts of indecent assault on women and children. He was found guilty and sentenced to 30 years in prison.

[marauders-brain-rot]

Jegumas - Day 8: Holiday Music - 712 words - @noblehouseofgay

Cw: trans pregnancy

“Frosty the Snowman was a jolly happy soul,” Lily sang quietly as she set the table for dinner. 

“Who was what?” Regulus asked, astonished. He’d never heard this song before and was half convinced Lily had been making it up. 

“Frosty the Snowman,” she said in her ‘duh, wizards are stupid’ voice she used sometimes. 

“And what were you singing about him?” Lily giggled and finished setting the table before joining Regulus at the kitchen island. 

“He was a jolly happy soul,” she said once again as if it were obvious. 

“Who is Frosty the Snowman?” 

“He’s from a muggle play, it’s just a silly song.” She shrugged before a look crossed her face that he couldn’t decipher. “Do you not have holiday music?” 

“God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriff,” he offered, it was the only song he could remember at the moment and that probably had something to do with James and Sirius drunk singing it the night prior when he and Remus had come over for dinner. Lily giggled and shook her head. 

“I always forget how silly wizards are until I’m told something like that,” she sighed, wistfully looking out into the yard where Pandora and James were chatting and gathering firewood. 

“Why? What holiday music do muggles have?” He’d become enamored with the different ways to spend the holidays since he’d started living with James. Sure he and his friends always celebrated, but everything felt different with James. There was an energy that clung to the air in their home from Halloween until after New Years, only to be renewed come Valentine’s Day. There was something in him that wanted to make sure their holidays were always sweet and full of love, especially since they’d be having a family. 

“Frosty the Snowman, Jingle Bells, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus, Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer. Silly stuff,” she shrugged casually as if she hadn’t just said one of the most baffling sentences Regulus had ever heard. He was going to ask her to explain some of them when Pandora and James came bustling into the house, bringing a burst of cool air into the otherwise warm room. The four of them spent the night after that eating and talking and laughing in ways Regulus only ever could around his chosen family. 

When he and James were finally alone again he couldn’t get his mind off what Lily had told him. 

“Jamie?” He asked as they cuddled up on the couch together where it sat in its new spot just feet away from the fireplace. 

“Yes love?” He hummed, his fingers running lazily through Regulus’s hair. 

“Have you ever listened to muggle holiday music?”

“I have, why?” 

“I never have before, Lily was singing one of them.” He paused before turning to look at James. “I want our child to have the best of both worlds.”

“Whatever you wish, my love,” James answered with another soft kiss. “I’ll get all the holiday music I can find and you can pick all the ones you like best.”

“Okay.” He sighed happily. “But Jamie?”

“Yes, love?”

“No songs about mommy kissing Santa Claus, that just doesn’t feel appropriate.” He replied, tucking himself into his husband’s side tighter. 

“Got it, no songs about mommy kissing Santa Claus.” 

“We can have the one about grandma getting run over by a reindeer, we’ll tell our child that’s what happened to my mom.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” James answered with a soft laugh. They slipped into a comfortable silence as they sat cuddled together in front of the crackling fire and, not for the first time, Regulus thought about how lucky he was to have someone like James Potter love him. He’d managed to find an all-consuming love that would last the rest of his lifetime, someone who was willing to find every bit of holiday music between two worlds and listen to them all so they could find the right ones for their family to listen to year after year. The kind of man who put thought and care into every decision he made, who always made Regulus feel safe and loved.

James Potter was perfect and he would spend his life hoping to deserve the love he gave. 

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics in which the main pairing is caught kissing (or a little more than that) as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis/Harry -

🩷 You You You by @isthatyoularry

(M, 137k, famous/not famous) the one where Harry and Louis meet at a club and Louis takes Harry home, only for him to realize that the boy who just made him breakfast half naked is Harry Styles from One Direction.

🩷 Next to your Heartbeat (where I should be) by jaded25

(M, 130k, uni) when Louis returns after his year abroad, the boy who's got his arms wrapped around Harry isn't him. It isn't a stranger either, which should make walking away all that easier.

🩷 The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by @kingsofeverything

(E, 109k, cheating) Louis’ life is steady and calm, moored by his marriage, and tied to his hometown, but after a chance encounter with another man, it’ll never be the same.

🩷 Bless the Day Our Heartbeats Aligned by pleasinglouis / @pleasing-louis

(E, 97k, omegaverse) the one where after years of being gone, Knight Harry returns to his best friend only to find out that Louis is betrothed to another.

🩷 Emperor's New Clothes by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships

(E, 92k, famous/not famous) Harry’s a pop star and Louis isn’t, and there’s a non-disclosure agreement where there used to be a relationship.

🩷 Hiding From The Media by daisieflowers

(T, 83k, canon divergence) Harry Styles is an international superstar in one of UKs biggest boybands at the moment. But he's been forced to keep his relationship with Louis Tomlinson - the everyday Uni student - a secret

🩷 I would rather go blind by ifiwasabluebird

(M, 79k, historical) It's 1960, Harry is a freshman at Oxford, and he cross path with a flamboyant blue eyed boy that is going to change his life.

🩷 nonstop earthquake dreams of you by lumineres

(M, 37k, canon) harry falls hard and finds louis already at the bottom

🩷 Heart Beat by @allwaswell16

(E, 35k, kid fic) When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums.

🩷 the love is ours to make (so we should make it) by lingerielarries

(NR, 19k, nanny Harry) the one where louis takes some time off from life to return home, only to be met with a strange boy in pink and a flowercrown as the nanny of his siblings.

🩷 It Will Always Be You by @phdmama

(E, 15k, lawyer Louis) If you had told Louis Tomlinson a year ago that he would be celebrating his birthday by kissing the man who is the love of his life on a Church Street park bench in Burlington VT as the snow drifted softly down, he would have told you that you were extremely imaginative.

🩷 You Give Me Fever (What A Lovely Way To Burn) by my_fandom_OTPs

(E, 10k, pwp) Louis walks in on Harry jerking off in the shower. What happens after is just… Impulsive and spontaneous.

🩷 A Snow In My Heart by @princelyharry

(T, 3k, kid fic) An AU which Harry and Louis' son caught Harry kissing Santa Claus on Christmas Eve. But it was actually Louis, who is dressed up as Santa Claus.

🩷 Many A Slip by Suzie_Shooter

(G, 1k, canon) Caught making out after the last show on tour, Harry and Louis find themselves in a worrying predicament with a local news crew. But could help be at hand?

- Rare Pairs -

🩷 Maybe We'd Be Better Together by ellebelle

(E, 13k, ot5) paul warned harry and niall the first time he caught them naked together that it was a bad idea.

🩷 I Feel Unready For My Love by Bearhead1

(NR, 4k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) For a few seconds the noise of the room disappeared, the air around them got really thick and all Louis could focus on was how soft Nick's lips were on his.

[chrollosbm]

Satoru Gojo is into Some Weird Roleplay (Christmas Smut)

art cr: glowx_21 on x

hey idk what this is LMAOO. i thought of this randomly bc gojo reminds me of a certain christmas character so i just ran with it! he's one of my three husbands who i love so much so i wanted to write about him. i'm so feral for him it's not even funny. anyways, i hope you enjoy and don't take it too seriously, unless you want to idc! mdni.

domestic gojo, husband gojo, dad gojo

female reader, no description of her features but i’m black so

warnings: piv sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, satoru won't shut up, dom gojo

i'm on ao3, pls support me there too!

wc: 1500+

“Satoru,” You surprised yourself in the way you were able to let out a single word with his unrelenting thrusts. “Baby. P-please slow down.” 

The man who was currently plummeting into you from behind let out a click of his tongue, ignoring your request and instead opted with a loud and hard smack to your ass, his pace somehow getting faster and harder. His hips were ruthless against the fat of your ass, creating clapping noises throughout the large bedroom.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.” He let out breathlessly, his tone as playful as ever, waiting for you to address him the right way.

You wanted to reach back and knock some sense into him, tell him to slow his thrusts before he knocked the wind out of you and woke up the children. His deep and powerful thrusts prohibited you from saying much though, with his fat cock reaching your g-spot so effortlessly that you were seeing stars.

If you could roll your eyes right now you would, but your body seemed to forget how to function, only capable of following the orders of your ridiculous but gorgeous husband behind you. “Saint Nick…please.” It would’ve sounded ridiculous to you if you weren’t being plummeted to Neptune with each touch of your gummy spot deep within you, but you were being fucked so stupid that you would call him God if he asked. “You don’t wanna wake up the little elves do you?” You played along as you continued panting, fingers grasping the silk sheets tightly, tears in your eyes from the intense pleasure.

You thought he was ignoring you again, with his long fingers digging deeper into your hips before he slowed his pace, deciding on an unhurried, rough one, sliding in and out of those warm, wet walls of yours with a long and drawn out “fuuuuuck,” leaving his mouth. “The elves are fast asleep, baby. Don’t worry about them, just take Santa’s dick, mmkay’?” His voice was jolly as ever, just like Santa Claus himself, and you would’ve laughed if his cock wasn’t basically touching your brain at this point. You could only let out small whimpers as he arched your back further, reaching only a place he could.

Why you agreed on letting your dear husband roleplay as Santa was beyond you, but Satoru had a way with words. All he had to do was promise to make you feel good, make you cum all night long, pretty please baby, in that convincing, deep voice of his, a pout on his features, those bright blue eyes begging, so how could you say no? 

You should have made some more conditions, one being to say no to the bells he had attached to the bed frame, with them ringing with each jerk of his hips, creating an impossibly loud jingle. He said it would get the two of you in the “Christmas spirit,” with the bed decorated in lights and ringing balls, sounding like a real sleigh everytime the bed hit the wall in full force. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Satoru pulling himself out of you, leaving you empty and missing him already, causing a whine to leave your lips as he flipped you over as if you weighed nothing, before settling in between your legs again. You were faced with the beautiful man you were so grateful to call yours, his cerulean orbs were darkened somehow as they stared into yours, looking dazed and drunk off your pussy, his pupils slightly dilated. His pretty white follicles were tucked into a red santa hat, the puffy ball tossed on the side, sweat trickling from his temples from wrecking your insides. He had that adorable, innocent smile on his face, as if he wasn’t guilty of talking you into this comical predicament in the first place. 

“Will Mrs. Claus let me put the beard on again?” He let out, a pout forming on his pink lips, glossy from sweat and saliva.

“No, don’t ask again!” You almost yelled, your face scrunched in annoyance and he let out a booming laugh at your immediate response. 

Satoru did have a cheap, plastic beard that matched his white hair perfectly, but you made him take it off for a couple reasons. One being it looked terrible. As beautiful as the man above you was as he was staring down at you, shallow breaths coming from his perfectly shaped, rock hard abdomen, and his rosy cheeks, the beard made him look…creepy. Two being it was damn itchy. He had been going down on you when he had it on, but it was impossible for you to focus on his holy tongue work and perfect movements of his fingers, curving into you, hitting that spot that had you crying out his name for the night (fucking Saint Nick.) Once it began scratching your legs painfully, you’d forced him to take it off, which he did with a whine, throwing the damp, shitty excuse for a beard across the bedroom floor, before making you cum from his tongue alone, more than once.

Your husband’s wide grin was replaced with something immodest as he gripped your thighs, pulling you forward, and slipped inside torturously slow, earning a gasp from the both of you. His head was thrown back and his lip was caught in his teeth, causing your pussy to throb from both the feeling of warmth and fullness again, and Satoru’s effortless way of making you feel hot inside just by simple facial expressions, subsequently making a groan escape his lips before sinking into you completely, touching your gummy spot immediately with the angle he entered.

He kept your legs apart as he thrust into you forcefully and fast-paced again, with you giving no complaints this time about the commotion the jingling bed frame was causing. You didn’t care, for he was taking you to heaven in this position, goosebumps erupting from your skin and seeing black dots in your vision with each time he reached a new depth inside you. Your cunt was competing with the loud noises of those stupid fucking bells as it made sloshing noises throughout the room, and when you looked down, you could see your juices dripping onto his pretty, pale, absolutely perfect cock. 

As if he could read your mind, he spoke for you. “You’re so fucking wet, baby. My god.” His head was no longer tilted back, but also looking down as your tight, slippery cunt sucked in his dick, a feral look on his features, absolutely enamored by the sight. His pace never let up, his hips moving at the speed of light almost as he used one hand to press on your lower stomach, making it feel better than you thought possible. “You feel me in there? You feel Santa’s cock abusing this perfect little cunt?” His goofy grin returned and you couldn’t do anything but let out a loud moan of approval, face twisted up, still entertaining his mess because this just felt too fucking good. 

His hand moved from your tummy to focus on your clit, fingers rubbing small, soft circles, completely catching you off guard. Your legs began to tremble from the insane pleasure you were feeling, hands clenching the sheets so hard again you were surprised they didn’t come off the corners of the bed. 

“Can I make you a mommy again? Put another little helper in this belly?” That feral look was in his eyes again, tone as light as ever, as he slowed down, choosing a rough ram motion, causing your tits to jiggle at the change of pace, making Satoru groan at the sight, mouth halfway open. You didn’t know if it was the mind fog you felt from him fucking you brainless, but you nodded vigorously as tears fell down your cheeks, that white hot feeling in your veins approaching, mind so numb you would probably agree to having ten more of his white-haired, blue-eyed children. The two of your already had four, three you’d birthed and one you adopted, but you didn’t care right now, you felt like he had seriously taken you to the North Pole with the way his cock was basically fucking your guts.

His infamous smile returned before leaning down to place his lips on yours, barely kissing you, just sticking his minty tongue in your mouth and panting, speaking incoherent sentences along the lines of you being a “good girl,” and “taking his load so well.” You couldn’t comprehend a thing anyway, as your body began convulsing, washing over with relief as your orgasm was drawn out of you, long and bone shattering, with your back arching off the bed with a squeal that was hard to keep inside your body.

Satoru wasn’t too far behind you, with his eyes closed tightly, as his hips began twitching, the first time all night they didn’t have a consistent rhythm and he groaned out loudly, spurting long, hot ropes of his cum inside you.

His eyes opened soon after, those beautiful blue orbs staring at you adoringly with his signature wide grin on his face, in which you returned, panting heavily, so thankful for this beautiful, insane, goofy husband of yours. He grabbed the comforter and placed it over the two of you, kissing your lips softly, his breath heavy as the two of you exchanged small “i love you’s” back and forth.

“Mommy?” A small voice came from the corner of the room and your heart dropped, recognizing it as your three year old daughter’s, afraid of what she might’ve seen. Satoru hid under the covers, his hat coming off in the process and you had a full view of her now, with her candy cane nightgown and teddy bear in her arms, her lip quivering with tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, ready to get up and comfort your youngest, afraid something happened as it was past midnight on Christmas Eve. God, did the bells wake her up?

She stomped out the room before you could get up, wailing and yelling for her older brother. “Megumi! Mommy was kissing Santa!” Her cries could be heard throughout the entire house and you knew everyone would be awake by now.

Satoru’s loud laugh could also be heard throughout the entire house, its jollyness rivaling Saint Nick himself. 

my masterlist!

[eddiesxangel]

Fuck the Nice List| Santa!Eddie x Reader

Smutty Part 2 of Hey, Mr. Claus

Cw smut, Eddie is dressed as Santa for your nieces and nephews and you can’t keep your hands to yourself. Minors DNI

The night was wrapping up as you and all your loved ones were gathered around the Christmas tree at your brothers' house. It was the first Christmas you were spending with your new boyfriend, Eddie, and he wanted to make a good impression on your family. So, he volunteered to dress as Santa for the younger ones. He already had experience from his Mall Santa job and thought it would be a way to get into your family's good books.

You heard a rustling of wrapping and tissue paper as the kids were getting squirmy and anxious to see who was coming around the corner.

“HO HO HO! Merry Christmas!” Eddie belted in his lower register voice when he played the character. As he entered the living room, a sack of presents filled with gifts your family had bought prior was slung around his shoulder.

Many high-pitched cheers of joy pierced your ears as the young ones screamed. They all ran up to Santa Eddie, not knowing it was the man they sat beside at dinner. He had put much effort into his appearance to make it more believable.

His hair was tucked away into his hat that had a long white curly wig underneath it. A long, white, silky beard was attached to his face, and some makeup made him look a bit older and rosie.

Eddie sat and listened to each child on what they wanted, and then he gave them a single gift. He was attentive and aware of how important it was to each child. This would live in their memories forever. The “real” Santa was here just for them on Christmas Eve! What else could they want?

The way Eddie was being so good with the kids of your family was making you feel things. Your heart fluttered in your chest, your palms sweaty, and your lower belly area felt much warmer than it should at a family function. You couldn't wait to get your hands on the man you were falling for.

“When’s it my turn, Mr. Claus?” You bat your eyes at your boyfriend once you are alone.

Your siblings went to get their children ready for bed. Everyone was spending the night at your brothers' house so you could spend Christmas Day together as a family.

“Don’t tell me this is what you’re into, Sugar Plum?” He asked as you walk towards him

“So what if it is? You don’t wanna unwrap me like one of your presents?” You tug at his beard to bring his head down lower to kiss. “I think you’re going to like what’s inside,” you whisper seductively.

“You wanna ride on Santa’s sleigh?” Santa Eddie smirked as you ran your hands up his chest to his shoulders.

“More like his North Pole...”

Eddie groans as he lets his head fall back before grabbing your hand and guiding the both of you to your shared bedroom for the evening.

“I can’t believe you’re going to seduce me into fucking you at your family’s house.” He tugged you into the guest room and shut the door quietly, not to alert the others.

“Oh please, seducing you? All I have to do is breathe, and you want to fuck me,” you laugh before Eddie shuts you up with a searing kiss.

“Get undressed,” Eddie demanded before taking off his suit.

“Wait! Keep that on,” you smirk.

“Oh, so we are doing this?” He points between you and himself.

You bite your lip and nod, letting your dress fall.

Eddie’s eyes went wide as he examined your figure. You had on a matching lacy red set. The push-up bra hugged your breasts, and the panties sculpted your ass to look like the perfect little sugar plum.

Eddie backs up and plops on the edge of the bed without breaking his gaze. He was practically drooling at the sight of you.

“Come on, Snow Angel. Come sit on Santa’s lap and tell me what you want for Christmas.” Eddie bites his lip, beckoning you over.

You walk over and straddle Santa Eddie’s lap, draping both legs over his knees, landing your lacy cunt down on his already hardening cock. Eddie grips your ass, and you lean your weight into him.

“I want you to fill me with your cum this Christmas.” You whispered in his ear before nibbling on the lobe.

“Fuuuuuuuck baby you can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not? You asked me what I wanted. I’ve been a good girl this year I promise.” You pout.

“I don’t know about that Sugar Plum? I’ve heard from the elf’s that you’ve been naughty.” Eddie bit at your neck as your hips began to grind down in your boyfriend’s lap. “You you’re going to do everything I say to make sure you really are a good girl.”

“Yes, Santa. I’ll do anything to get on your nice list.” You drop your head to kiss Eddie’s plump lips. Well, you at least tried to because the fake beard got in the way.

“Ok, this has to go,” you laugh as Eddie removes the synthetic beard from his face.

“Oh, thank god,” he mumbles before peppering kisses all over your chest and breasts.

“Fucking perfect,” Eddie mumbles as he presses his face into your cleavage and takes in your sent. You smell of cinnamon, ginger and pine needles.

“Mmmmm baby,” you moan as you grip the back of his head, keeping his face in your chest.

“You wanna lick Santa’s special candy cane?” Eddie smirked.

You slinked down his body, and he unbuttoned his suit jacket. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and you couldn’t help but run your hands up and down his naked torso. Your eyes soaked him in as he undid his pants.

“Mmmm, I bet it’s the sweetest.” You ran your hand up and down the tented fabric of his boxers.

“No more teasing. You wanna get on Santa’s nice list, don’t ya? Open up a nice big present tomorrow morning?” Eddie bites his bottom lip.

“Yes, Santa,” you pull his big cock out and give the tip a lick.

“Good girl, good fuckn’ girl.” Eddie stroked your head as you took him entirely into your mouth.

You take as much of him as you can in your mouth before gagging. The weight of his velvety shaft was so soft on your tongue. You loved giving Eddie head; it made you so wet every time without fail.

“Fuck you’re way too good at this. I’m going to bust already,” he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Mmmmmmm,” you hum at the compliment and continue to bob and suck on his cock.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he pulls your head up so he doesn’t explode right then and there. He pulls you up into a deep, long kiss as he goes to lay back on the bed. You followed his lead and hovered over top of him. You graze your sopping clothed cunt over Eddie’s bare cock as you adjust your weight.

Eddie hissed as he felt the pool of wet heat graze his cock. “You wanna take that ride now, baby?” Eddie moaned.

“Yes,” you sigh, and you feel Eddie’s hand pull your panties to the side.

“You gotta work for it, Sugar Plum; show Santa how good you can be,” he cooed as he curled your clit with a gloved finger.

“Fuck” you sigh, and you grind your hips harder on Eddie's cock.

“What did I say about teasing? You naughty little elf,” Eddie gritted out.

“M’sorry Santa, maybe I wanna be your naughty girl.” You continue to grind your hips back and forth from his base to tip.

“That’s it!” Eddie couldn't take it anymore. He flips the two of you over so you’re flat on your back.

“No more playing around. Santa needs his milk and cookies” Eddie ripped your panties right off, and before you knew what was happening, his muscular tongue was entering your wet hole, and his bright red nose was nudging at your clit.

“Fuck baby,” you whispered, trying not to disturb the rest of the house. He sat up and replaced his tongue with two fingers. You’re not even sure when he removed the white gloves.

“Mmm, best cookie I’ve tasted all year,” he mused, and your pussy clenched.

“Oh, you like it when I compliment your cookie, don’t you?” He massaged his fingers inside you, making your hips jerk up.

“Baby, please,” you begged.

“Naughty girls have to wait, baby; only good girls on the nice list get what they want” His thumb curled your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

“Baby fuck, I’m close,” you wined, and Eddie pulled away.

“Oh, she’s learning.”

“Baby I was so close-”

“Naughty girls only get to come when it’s on my cock.” He aligns himself up to your entrance.

“Fuck your so hot.” Eddie leaned down to kiss you. He kissed you hard, and it made your head spin.

Eddie slipped his tongue into your mouth, and at the same time, he slipped in his cock. You never got tired of the way Eddie stretched you out every time. He never failed to make you feel full. He knew how to take over your body. The way he would numb your mind, how he could literally fuck you dumb. You hadn't been together that long with Eddie. Only a month, really, but the way he knows your body, it was like he was made for you.

"Oh, you like that Sugar Plum? Do you like Santa's fat cock splitting you open? I wish you could see it, baby, the way your pussy swallows my cock is perfection." You must have been making noises of pleasure because you were already lost in your own little world of euphoria, and he had just started.

"Answer me, Sugar Plum. Tell me how much you like this cock." his hips slowed down in pace but never stopped. He will wait for your answer.

"I- fuck- I love it-ohhhhhhh," you cried as his head grazed your g spot.

"There's my good girl." Eddie's pace quickened. His hand ran up to massage your breast, still confined by the lacy red bra.

Your pussy clamped down at his words; you loved when he called you his god girl. It never fails to make your body tingle.

As his cock continuously slides against your g spot, your body tenses up at the oncoming orgasm Eddie is about to give you.

"More, please, I'm so close," You beg. You were so close to the euphoria that you would do anything for Eddie now.

"Sucha good girl letting me know. and you know what good girls get?" Eddie continues to thrust into your cunt while reaching down to open your legs up wider for him so that he could rub your clit. The new angle was just what you needed.

You quickly nod to Eddie's question before your body is ripped with a rush of serotonin.

"That's right, baby, they get what they ask for. Come, baby, you're doing so good for me." He talked you through your orgasm.

He followed not too far after you, finishing inside like you had asked. You loved it when Eddie came in you. He'd hug you close as he trusted his hips deep into your body that you felt so connected. Like you were made for one another. It didn't matter if the sex was silly or serious; you knew your souls were meant to be intertwined.

"I didn't know I had that many dirty Christmas analogies in me," Eddie laughed, shucking off the fluffy white and red suit jacket that made him a sweat bucket.

"And now I have one more in me." you laugh, and Eddie can't help but fall in love with you.

Part 3

tag list: @allthingsjoeq @bettyfrommars @battymunson @onegirlmanytales @slutty-thevampireslayer @leelei1980 @tlclick73 @reidsbtch

[profoundbondfanfic]

Happy Holiday season from all the members at @profoundbondfanfic!

-Part 1 of 5-

Christmas Spirit by MalicMalic (Explicit, 3k words)

It's the afterlife and Dean can finally have everything he wants.

Hanukkahn't Resist You by almaasi (General audiences, 2k words)

Dean made a Hanukkah greeting card for Cas, his fellow teacher and major crush. The card is also a pun. And also a pick-up line. And also maybe a mistake.

Hot Snow Angel by DoctorProfessorSong (Explicit, 23k words)

So you know that absolutely unhinged Netflix holiday movie featuring Lacey Chabert and a sentient snowman played by the actor who was Corbett in Ghostfacers? I saw the preview and immediately said: Dean Winchester would be a snowman fucker. A Destiel Christmas rom com. Come for the crack, stay for the feels.

Sugar Cookies and Mistletoe Kisses by Briston, Whitster_lizzy (Teen and Up, 10k words)

A little too much tequila at a Christmas party leaves Dean with a foggy memory. No one will tell him what happened and Cas can barely look him in the eye. Can Dean salvage their friendship before it's too late?

The Bad Santa Clause by Castielslostwings, jscribbles, MalMuses, pingnova, sobsicles (Explicit, 74k words)

A quiet pre-Christmas hunt goes horribly wrong for the Winchesters, Castiel, and Jack when Dean accidentally murders Santa Claus. Ho ho ho, bitches. A seasonal canon collab loosely based on The Santa Clause.

The Christmas Angel by FriendofCarlotta (Teen and Up, 7k words)

One lonely Christmas, Dean picks up an ornament: a small angel that reminds him of his mother. Over the years, the ornament becomes a fixture of his life, keeping him company through many difficult years. For Castiel, the ornament takes on its own meaning - a reminder of the sort of life he wants and can never have. Will the Christmas angel ever get a chance to take its rightful place at the top of a family tree?

The Morning After by Dancingdog (Explicit, 67k words)

'Twas the morning after Christmas and to Dean's surprise, He'd slept with a vampire, with mortified blue eyes...

The Waiter and the Businessman by followyourenergy (General Audiences, 4k words)

Dean Winchester, CEO, frequents the diner on the corner of Main and South for lots of reasons: pie, the jukebox that plays 80s music, and Castiel, the sweet, handsome waiter who always has time for Dean. When he sees Castiel unexpectedly on Christmas Day, he learns more about the quiet man… and receives two precious gifts that money could never buy.

[iliveformanyfictionalcharacters]

The One Who Believes Chapter 1

Bernard (The Santa Clause) x Reader

Summary: [Reader] stopped believing in soulmates a long time ago - around the same time she stopped believing in Santa. What happens when she's finally given a reason to believe in both.

Chapter 2 >

Ever since I was a little girl, I believed there was someone out there for me. Someone who would love me for me, for every strange aspect of my personality, every hobby I loved and every experience I’ve had. When I was a little girl this idea was striking, it was a tangible thing that I fully believed would happen. I stayed up late as a toddler as my mother told me stories of how one day I’d find the one for me. As a young girl I played with my dolls and teddy bears and all the time thought of who out there could possibly be the one for me, what were they doing at that very moment? As a teenager I forced myself to focus on my schoolwork, however, somewhere in the back of my mind I still dreamed of my person. My One. My soulmate.

Now as a young adult it's become more apparent than ever that that's just not how it works. There's not a single person out there waiting for me, a person who has been crafted perfectly for me and me for them. Realistically I’d find someone that makes me happy that I can build my life with, someone I can marry and have children with. But the idea of a soulmate had become so utterly ridiculous to me that I almost cringed at my teenage self. But still. Sometimes, in the dark of the night, when everything was quiet and I could finally think to myself, I find myself wishing it were true. Wishing that there was some truth to my childish dreams. Wishing that my mother had meant something more when she told me of the love I'd one day find.

Christmas was coming up. I looked up at the date displayed on my computer - December 18th - one week until Christmas. I always felt bittersweet during the holidays, like something was missing. As of recently I blame this feeling on my mothers passing a few years ago. I still think of the last thing she said to me. “Believe [Reader]…the one is out there…you just have to believe.” Suddenly the sound of the bell atop the store door startled me out of my daydream. I worked in a bookshop. I can’t really put a name to my job though. As the only employee I stocked the shelves, checked out customers, worked the finances, and as of late cleaned the snowy footprints away from the door as people walked in from the frigid outside. I worked for the kindest old man and woman, who weirdly enough sort of reminded me of Santa and Mrs. Claus. The old man - Mr. Lou - was a big man with a long white beard and round glasses. The women - Mrs. Dorothy - was a kind old woman who wore exclusively ankle length dresses and always brought me homemade cookies when she came in. In fact, it was her who had just walked in. “Hello Mrs. Dorothy!” I called to her with a smile. She smiled back and adjusted the tray in her arms to give me a hug. “Hello Dear, how are you today?” I always loved Mrs. Dorothy, I never knew my grandmother but having her in my life made me feel like I had the most loving grandmother in the world. “I’m doing good Mrs. Dorothy, just got the last of the Christmas books stocked and I finally got that light changed,” I say pointing to the seemingly always broken lightbulb. “Oh thank you dear, Lou’s been meaning to do that but his back has just been killing him these days.” “Oh no, is he okay? Did something happen?” “Oh dear you’ll never believe it!” Mrs. Dorothy turned from the shelves she had been looking at and faced me with an amused look in her eyes. “He fell off a roof!” “He what!? Oh my goodness, is he okay?” I frantically ask her. “Oh yes dear, he's fine. It did put him out of his second job but he found a replacement pretty fast.” “Okay... that's good. Please let me know if there is anything I could possibly do to help.” I didn't even know Mr. Lou had a second job. “Oh dear thank you. You are so sweet, but you have already done so much for us the past 7 years. I mean, you've been working here since you were 16!” “Mrs. Dorothy, you know I love working here, and I love you two also. I would be happy to help in any way I possibly could.” She answered me with a smile and a cookie from the tray she was holding. She set the tray down and we held small talk for about an hour as more customers came in and out. Eventually closing time came and I started cleaning up the small messes here and there. Me and Mrs. Dorothy walked toward the door still talking, as we walked outside, harsh gusts of cold wind hit us. I wrapped my scarf tighter around me but Mrs. Dorothy hardly seemed fazed. In the seven years I’d known her the cold had never bothered her. “Well bye Mrs. Dorothy, I’ll see you tomorrow. Please remember my offer.” “Of course dear and for all your kindness let me tell you something, something I think you’ll find very helpful in the near future: His favorite color is burgundy.” “Wha-” but before I could question her extremely strange comment she whips around on her feet and walks in the opposite direction, toward her home. “You’ll understand when you need to, dear!” she calls, and just like that I was alone on the sidewalk in front of the old bookstore.

The walk home from work felt different than usual. The air held a sense of suspense, the feeling you get when you know something is going to happen but you don't know when, how, or why? Once home, I tried to shake off the odd feeling I had. I fixed some mac and cheese for dinner and watched a Christmas movie while eating. I took a long shower and crawled into bed still feeling uneasy. What had Mrs. Dorothy meant? Who's favorite color was burgundy? Why did I need to know it? How did she know I would need it? And most importantly, why was I starting to believe her? I fell asleep with more questions forming in my head than I had answers.

[torchflies]

Hi TG Fandom! 

(I love Hallmark Christmas movies and got the Hangster feels, so — here you go. 😉)

Shortly after the mission, so about the beginning of December, everyone on the daggers is fiercely trauma-bonded to each other (and their favorite old men: Maverick, Iceman and Slider 😆) while they form a new squadron under Mav’s command — when Cyclone pulls Jake aside to say that his father is dying and his mother has been trying to contact him for some time now. 

Of course, the daggers are nosy as hell and Slicemav are Slicemav, so everyone knows by the end of the day. 

They are instantly in comforting mode, trying their best to get Jake to just go home — but he insists that he's fine and his father is not dying, he's just a dramatic prick. 

Eventually Ice strong-arms Jake into telling them where he's from so they can buy plane tickets and take the idiot home. 

“Utqiagvik, Alaska.” He finally grumbles, arms crossed and pouting because the old man isn't dying. It’s just a ploy to get him out there. 

But yes, they force him to go home, with Bradley and Slicemav in tow because of course. 

It takes a ridiculous amount of connecting flights and a stint in a very teeny tiny jumper, but they get out there. And Jake takes them farther North still, farther North than they had thought possible. 

There's a whole city in the middle of nowhere in the Arctic, full of bustling people and well-lit stores and dozens upon dozens of warehouses. And oddly enough, when they slip off their hoods, they aren't overly cold. 

There's a strange shimmer in the air here, Jake calls it magic and says, completely unenthused: “Welcome to the North Pole.” 

As it turns out, Jake’s father is indeed not dying because Santa Claus (a.k.a St. Nicky Kringle-Seresin) is functionally immortal and is just a meddling sonuvabitch who really wanted his kid to take over his birthright this year — and to meet his new son-in-law 😉 Jake is absolutely horrified by both those prospects. 

He lays down in a snowdrift in front of the stables and begs one of the reindeer to trample him to death. 

Rudolph licks his face in consolation instead. 

A completely unsympathetic Bradley pokes him with a boot, “Why does everyone here call you JB?” 

“It’s my name, Jake is a better one.” 

“What’s JB short for though?”

“….you already know, Bradshaw. Yes, it’s that.”

Jingle Bell Rock starts playing in the distance and Jake contemplates how far his own immortality extends.