#JET SET SANTA

[retrocgads]

UK 1987

[ssahotchnerr]

A holiday criminal minds fic would be so cute! Like, Hotch’s wife decorated the office while they’re gone for a case. They have secret Santa and Rossi dresses up as a reindeer idk 😭 I just think it would be adorable!

making spirits bright

hehe had to slip some girl!dad aaron into this <3 cw; fem!reader, domestic fluff

upon entering the bullpen after returning to quantico, aaron was anticipating action reports, concluding paperwork, following up with the precinct to ensure the case was settled properly - a long afternoon, so to speak.

but there you were, sitting in jj's chair patiently waiting. he had called you before the jet had taken off that morning, sent you a quick text when they had landed, and had been already calculating the minutes until he made it home. needless to say, he hadn't needed to count very long, his shoulders instantly relaxing at the realization.

your eyes brightened at the sight of him, quickly getting to your feet.

"hi sweetheart," aaron's face softened, his hand finding your waist momentarily to pull you in for a kiss hello. he was pleasantly surprised, but his brows still furrowed briefly in confusion at your unexpected presence. "this is a nice surprise, what are you doing here?"

"don't be mad," your eyes were nothing short of mischievous; a fiery, excited glint to them - you had been up to something. after offering a quick wave to the team as they too trailed in, you grabbed his hand, not wasting a second to pull him up the few short stairs, "i sorta 'broke' into your office."

"alright..." he went willingly, but spoke with a touch of hesitancy - not knowing what he was about to walk into. the possibilities were endless, especially when it came to you.

you flicked the lights on in his office, and it was just how he had left it a few days prior. the only difference now, a small christmas tree was set in the corner near the window. it was adorned with multi-colored lights, a star perched on top, and handmade ornaments - made of paper, felt, accompanied by a few pipe-cleaner candy canes. they were messily made, as they were created by a seven year old, but each special in their own perfect way.

the two of you neared the tree, and you waited a second before speaking, allowing time for aaron to soak it in.

but even with the moment of silence, aaron was still lost for words. he turned to you, a quizzical yet awed expression plastered on his face.

"jack worked on those for about... a month i believe? while you've been away and whatnot. i'm a bit surprised he didn't slip up and spoil the surprise, he was really excited." you laughed softly, your expression simply lighting up more.

"oh and this," you reached out, touching a circular, clay ornament. one that featured the tiny hand of your daughter, only a few months old and about to experience her very first christmas. "courtesy of baby girl. there's also one on our tree back home too - with jack's baby handprint - but i thought you'd might like one here as well."

aaron laughed breathlessly, the smile on his face widening.

"what do ya think?" you shyly asked as your arms wrapped around aaron's middle, peering up at him eagerly and cutely.

"what do i think?" aaron tossed his go-bag onto the couch, allowing him to wrap both his arms right back around you. he was still a bit dumbstruck, his eyes continuing to scan the tree, finding something new at each glance. "this is... i truthfully don't even know what to say."

"i- we just wanted to bring some christmas cheer to your office," you said, turning back to his surprise, the lights illuminating you softly. "i know it can be dreary and depressing and it just feels so cozy at home with our family tree. but you miss it when you have your long days, so this way, you're not missing out."

"this is exactly what was needed." aaron kissed your temple, and then your lips once in reach as your face lifted towards him again. "thank you. i love it."

"good, i'm glad." you grinned, your hand grazing his torso before finding his tie, your fingers playing with the length of it gently.

"but, we do have a problem."

your face pulled into a sheepish yet witty look, pulling on his tie the smallest amount, "that i broke into your office?"

"no," aaron laughed, shaking his head. "you're welcome to break in any time. the problem is, now i'm going to have a tree in here all year round. how can i possibly take this down?"

[vetteltea]

Max Verstappen and Secret Santa [no warnings]

Day 2 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar

“Is this my one?” Your voice carries through the small barrage of producers and videographers, a camera transfixed onto your face as you lift the package, attempting to figure out what content was inside of the box.

You were exhausted; despite wrapping up the championship a month ago, simply focusing on obtaining more and more points for Red Bull Racing’s reputation, the tracks had been tough and jet lag increasingly aggravating. Abu Dhabi was the end of the road, one step closer to falling back home into your own bed. However, you could not hide the elation which fell onto your face as the Formula One media team had pulled you aside, letting you know it was time to film the reveal. 

You had been so excited to purchase your present this year; Yuki was always a fantastic pick, having selected him a set of chef knives and a hat, printed with a photo of himself and Pierre. Now, as the deep blue box was handed into your grasp, you couldn’t help but feel your heart race, gently shaking the box, determined to figure out the content.

“It sounds…heavy?” You try to give the best description possible to the woman standing behind the camera, urging you to unwrap the present in your hands. The temptation overrides, slipping your fingers through the silky bow and beginning to unwrap the formal packaging. “Whoever wrapped this…” you trail off. “Got it wrapped professionally. I don’t think any of us could wrap a present this good.” 

The paper eventually falls away, the camera adjusting as you place down the box upon the table, lifting the lid. Immediately, your eyes furrow together, and then soften in confusion, grasping around the item which you had been gifted. 

There, laid upon a pile of soft purple tissue paper, rested a Polaroid camera. It was small, coloured an off-white and was almost identical to the previous one you had owned. 

“What did you get?” The woman behind the camera had prompted, urging to get the content required for the Secret Santa video. Your trance upon the item is snapped away, blinking rapidly and looking up the lens trained on your reaction. 

“It’s a Polaroid camera and a bunch of film!” You lift the camera, showing it to the team, the smile on your face ever-present. “I bring a Polaroid to every race and take a photo but…someone broke it.” Your mind flickers back to your teammate, how he had insisted he could take a photo for Zandervoot; it was his home race after all. He had been nothing but apologetic, though that wouldn’t bring back your camera. 

“Who do you think got it for you? It must be someone who knows you well?” The woman prompts you to continue whilst your fingers trace over the device, elated that somebody must have understood the importance and value held to the memories you capture. 

“I mean…” you trail off. “A lot of us are close. It has to be someone who knows I do it…Daniel, maybe?” You think about the smiley Australian; how the two of you had bonded over your love of taking photos during global travels. The synchronized shake of the team signified you must have been wrong. It wasn’t Daniel. “Maybe Pierre?” He was almost always insistent on being in your photos, after all. 

“Think closer to home.” You misunderstand the woman for a moment, thinking of your neighbor in the city of Monte Carlo.

 “Valtteri?” Though, you’re almost certain he wouldn’t have got you this. You’re so certain it’s time to give up, lifting the camera out of its box, your attention being drawn immediately to the small Polaroid card being left underneath the device. 

There was a photo, a photo of a man holding up a white piece of card, his scrawling hand-writing undeniably recognisable. In lettering, he had spelt out one word, ‘date?’ 

There’s two more underneath, one with the driver holding a thumbs up, the other a thumbs down. You can’t help the grin returning to your face as you look up from the box, seeing his figure sitting a mere meter away from you, eyes trained on you, a smile on his face at the realization you had finally clocked. 

“Max.” You finally solve the problem, subtly slipping one of the Polaroids into your hand as the team take a few establishing shots, thanking you for being part of their marketing and turning their attention to your teammate, adamant on filming his segment next. 

Before they can, you subtly slide past his table, tracing his knuckles and resting the Polaroid in his lap, moving away before he can realize what has happened. Instead, he focused on the photograph in his hand, seeing his own figure staring back with a thumbs up. 

The last thing he sees is you turning the corner, still clad in Red Bull Uniform, a subtle wink thrown in his direction as you leave him to unwrap his own present, undeniably thinking of unwrapping something better later.

[headkiss]

I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE HOTCH! ❤️ He’s so soft and I can’t ; -;.

For Christmas requests, can I request the team trying to set up Hotch and reader through either mistletoe or Secret Santa? TY!

hiii thank you so much!! i hope u like it <3 merry christmas and happy holidays! 🫶🎄 | 0.6k of fluff

Unbeknownst to you, the team has been trying to get you and Hotch together for ages.

They’ve seen the way you steal glances at him on the jet, when his head is bent and he’s focused on his paperwork, seen the way he steals glances at you, too. They’ve also seen the two of you grow close, a deliberate yet soft squeeze of the shoulder here, a shared smile there.

They also know that neither of you can tell that the other feels exactly the same. so they’ve decided to take things into their own hands.

“Hey,” Emily grabs your attention, your head lifting to look over at her.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you could ask Hotch for that file from the Seattle case for me?” She faux sighs, “I’m too focused on this report to leave it right now.”

“Okay,” you nod, pushing up from your desk. “No problem.”

You don’t suspect anything, partially because you’re just a little bit oblivious sometimes, and partially because you figure she’s just trying to get things done to get home quicker on the holidays, and you don’t blame her.

Christmas at the BAU isn’t the most festive one, except for the small tree that Garcia has insisted should be put up every year. Other than that, it’s business as usual.

Or, it should be.

You walk up the few stairs to get to Hotch’s office, knocking on the open door when you get there. Aaron stands from his desk when he sees you, meeting you by the doorframe.

“Hi,” you say, “sorry, Emily asked if I could-”

It’s then that you notice a piece of mistletoe taped sloppily—Derek’s work, probably—to the top of the door. Aaron follows your gaze upwards and notices it, too.

“Oh,” you look back to his face, “I had no idea that was there, I’ll just-”

Hotch catches your wrist as you turn to leave, gently tugging you into his office and closing the door behind the two of you, giving you privacy from the team that had been hoping their plan would work.

“I didn’t know, either,” he says, his fingers still around your wrist, warm and rough, but his touch is soft. “If they’re making you uncomfortable with this, I can talk to them.”

You shake your head, shuffling on your feet, far too aware of his hand on your skin, of his eyes kind and searching. “No, no it’s not that. It’s just- it’s silly, right? Them thinking that we’d, um, kiss.”

“Is it?” He asks, because he’s wanted to kiss you for a long time, and even though he’s afraid, he thinks it’s time you know that. Time the team gets off his ass about it, too.

“Hotch,” your voice has gone quieter, unsure that he means what you think he does, what you want him to mean.

“Aaron,” he corrects gently.

Your chest rises on your intake of breath, Aaron stepping a bit closer to you, your shoes nearly toe to toe.

“You don’t think it’s silly, Aaron?”

“No, I don’t.” His free hand pushes your hair away from your face, fingers staying on your jawline afterwards. “I’ve liked you for a long time, and they know it.”

“Oh, wow,” you shift so that he’s holding your hand rather than your wrist, fingers tangling easily. You think that maybe it’s the holidays that make you braver, the love in the air, “I like you, too.”

It feels so juvenile to say it that way, especially where Hotch—Aaron—is concerned, but it’s all you can muster with his hands on you and his gaze flicking to your mouth.

“I’d rather not do it here, but I do want to kiss you,” he says. “Any dinner plans today?”

“No. Not as of now, at least.”

“Have dinner with me?”

“Okay,” your answer is easy.

And that night, after dinner, when he does kiss you on your porch, Christmas lights illuminating your faces, you’re thankful for the mistletoe.

[yeoldenews]

It’s Dear Santa time again!

Every year since 2010, I have spent the month of December posting children's Dear Santa letters.

Publishing letters to Santa in the newspaper first became widely popular in the late-1890s, though scattered newspapers did so as early as the mid-1880s. I believe this sudden explosion in popularity was at least partially the result of the famed "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Clause" editorial which was published in The New York Sun in September of 1897.

In large cities Dear Santa letters often acted as a method of getting needed clothing and supplies to impoverished children when parents might be ashamed to ask for charity. Subscribers to the newspaper could choose a child’s letter and provide the items they asked for. The most common requests were shoes and coats.

Sometimes newspapers offered prizes for the best letter (which I suspect often acted as another clandestine form of charity as the winners were often letters asking for basic clothing and school supplies.) Though these prizes could range from the ordinary (a sled or a doll) to the extravagant (a $20 gold piece or a live pony.)

Often local stores would enter children in a drawing if they mentioned the store in their letter - which on occasion would result in children hilariously name-dropping every store in town just in case.

Writing Dear Santa letters was also commonly an activity done at school, often following some rough form letter. These letters are fairly easy to spot as they often hype up what a good student the child was and include effusive praise for their teacher (who would likely see the letter before it was sent.)

So why have I spent hundreds of hours of my life over the last decade reading tens of thousands of these letters?

Children's voices are largely absent from the historical record.

Dear Santa letters offer an extremely rare opportunity to see history unfold through children's eyes - in their own (often creatively spelled) words.

1914′s “Remember the children in Belgium” becomes 1918′s “Please visit my brother in France”.

During the Great Depression the very common phrase “I know you’re poor this year too Santa” gives a glimpse into parents' attempts to explain to their children why they might not be getting as much this year.

1939′s “Be careful flying over Europe” becomes 1945′s “Since the war is over you’re making bb-guns again right?”

Requests for toy flying machines become aeroplanes become fighter jets become space shuttles.

Dolls and wagons become Shirley Temple merchandise become Erector Sets become Barbies and Star Wars action figures.

But through all these changes one thing remains clear throughout 130+ years of letters to Santa, despite the rapidly changing world around them - children have always been children.

I hope you enjoy these letters as much as I do! (All decade+ of posts are tagged “Dear Santa” if you’d like to see more than just this year’s selection.)

Hapy Holadays and Marry Crimes!

[carolmunson]

feelin' mighty fine

rockstar!eddie x actress!reader

inspired by: merry christmas, baby part of carol's christmas song blitz a/n: this is a heavily reworked version of the opening for chrismtas '97 in the rockstar!eddie au. it just wasn't working in the story so i'm making it it's own standalone! you don't have to know much about my rockstar!eddie au to enjoy it -- but just know, you're a famous actress married to rockstar eddie munson and have twins - van and violet, they're about three here. would recommend listening to the song before or during reading to catch the vibe.

cw: 18+, brief smut mention/description, dad!eddie, parenthood, some swearing?, brief alcohol mention. minors dni 4eva. fluff, fluff, fluff.

December 23rd, 1997 - Chicago Stadium

It was the last night of tour before the four of you, exhausted, would travel back to Indiana. It's a short flight, but getting the kids on a jet at midnight didn't sound like the Christmas Eve Eve plans you wanted to make. The twins were fussy backstage, the nanny long sent home earlier that morning since they'd have Wayne and everyone else to help you in Hawkins.

It was half way through the set and the kids should've been sleeping but they wanted to watch from the wings with you, Vi in your arms and Van by your feet -- both safe in headphones made to fit them perfectly to block out the sound. As the song ends and the crowd screams, you can see Eddie running toward you backstage, pulling his guitar from over him with a tech rushing by you to retrieve it. He only has a minute or two while Jeff works the crowd but he never wastes it. His skin shines with sweat, tattoos glimmering over his arms and chest.

"Hey, you havin' fun?" he doesn't wait for an answer, pulling you in from the back of then neck to kiss you. His mouth is cold from the water he's been drinking, he tastes like the faint twang of tequila from the flask in his back pocket. A hint of his mid-show cigarette lingers on his lips.

"Are you having fun, sleepy girl?" he asks Violet, she giggles and hides in the curls that match her dad's, "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

He looks down, seeing Van nearly jumping out of his little leather jacket to have his dad pick him up, "Shouldn't you be in bed, too?"

Eddie scoops him up, smattering his face in kisses -- Van shrieks in laughter so Violet laughs, too. Never one to miss out on kisses, she reaches for her dad desperately before Eddie pops her onto his free hip. He double fists the twins like he used to double fist bottles of Don Julio.

"Honey, you gotta go," you urge, you notice the tech waiting with Ed's other guitar by the wings.

"Okay, okay, sorry -- one more kiss, okay?" he nods to the twins, pressing a kiss to each cheek before placing them back down on the fold out chairs next to you.

"And one more for mommy," he swoons, slinging the new guitar over his shoulder. You roll your eyes and let him smooch you all sloppy, he grins like you just met when he's done. Ed tosses you a wink before rushing out to the stage where he starts to talk into the mic about what's coming up. The tech rushes by you again with Santa hats in his hands -- running onto the stage to pass them out to Eddie, Jeff, Gareth, and the rest of the band.

"Now normally we don't do this shit, we like to keep it a lil' scary here -- but it is Christmas time so, I wanted to play a little somethin' special. Y'all know Otis Redding?" Eddie asks. You beam, you know exactly what he's about to get the band to play. The crowd screams, barricades straining against them while they bounce and jump.

"I wanted to introduce some fellas on brass who are comin' to join us for this number," Eddie puts his hand back to reference a small brass band stepping onto the platform next to Gareth's drum set, "Give 'em a 'round of applause for me."

The applause is rauccus and the brass players wave sheepishly from their platform. You guess it's not often that they're playing with a band that used to be in the news for 'promoting Satan's music'. Especially not with someone with a reputation as sordid as Eddie's.

As the horns begin to play, Eddie puts on his Santa hat and gets close to the mic, "This song's called 'Merry Christmas, Baby', I'm sure most of ya know it. But it was my mama's favorite -- she used to wear that record out so much that my daddy had to buy it for her twice. So this is for my mama, and all the mama's that are out there tonight."

He winks towards the camera that fed out to the screens for the back seats, sending the women in the crowd to their knees. Their screeches nearly drowned out the opening chords.

Eddie's voice has a gruffness that meets the songs needs, Jeff's joining his in a playful duet. As the intro finishes, they both trade their shrill riffs for a funky bass lines and twangs to match the energy from the brass.

"Well I'm feelin' mighty fine y'all, got my music on the raay-di-oooo..." Eddie sings with a smile, his eyes closed against the bright lights. There's a lightness about him that his fans rarely see, something soft, something you get to see at home. Like when the babies would fall asleep on his chest.

"Feel like I wanna kiss ya, babe, standin' underneath that mistletoe..." he drawls, and you can see his head turn to try and peer at you behind the curtain. A silent dedication. He'd kiss you all the time if he could.

The crowd claps in time with the beat. You can see the gleams of painted nails and rings, silver bracelets, and leather arm cuffs glinting in the light of the first three rows. There was an air of genuine surprise that the crowd was singing the lyrics with them, but the holidays infect everyone. Even 'god damn delinquents', as put so delicately by the venues owner.

"Sure did treat me nice, said you bought me all those presents, and I feel like I'm in paradise..."

And overwhelming wave of nostalgia hits you as they reach the music breakdown, remembering what it was like before the kids were born. How things felt before you got married. You'd wait in his dressing room, watching the feedback on the TV in the corner, eating the snacks and drinking the champagne he'd get for you on his rider. He'd come back at the end of the show, dripping in sweat, vibrating from all the coke, chugging a bottle of Jack Daniels.

The grizziliness of him was so fucking hot at the time he didn't even have to ask you to bend over the couch. He'd rail into you so hard you could barely breathe, hand entwined in your hair, dampening your shirt when he pressed you against his slick chest.

"Been thinkin' about you all night. This tight fucking pussy," he'd grunt, whiskey might as well have been seeping out of his pores. But he was so different now. So straightened up. So present.

He was clean long before the twins were born, but something changed in him when they came. He was so alive again. Just so fucking happy to be there.

"Please give another round of applause for our brass band over here!" Eddie's announcement sends you right back to reality. The crowds cheers scream through the venue again and you instinctively cover your ears. You watch the brass band wave and bow, stepping down off the platform off the stage while the rest of the band hypes them up.

"That was fun, wasn't it folks?" Eddie asks, "So I guess we'll get back to--"

You're confused at the sudden shrill of shrieks from the crowd.

"Oh, you guys know Van? He's our new guitarist -- this is actually Jeff's last show," you hear Eddie's laugh boom over the speakers. You look down to the horror of only seeing one child next to you, who is now off her chair and inching towards the stage.

"You wanna play a chord, buddy?" you hear Jeff's voice say, the crowd cheers again. You look up at one of the screens, Van perched in his uncle Jeff's arms while he leans down to strum the strings. The crowd whoops and giggles while Jeff puts his hand over Van's tiny one and helps him play a real chord. Eddie claps, eyes shining with pride, the crowd goes absolutely insane- Van! Van! Van! Van! Your son hides, embarrassed at the attention -- always one to be shy, burying himself in the crook of Jeff's neck.

"Violet baby, come here," you coo over to her, taking a step. But that step makes her book it -- and god are they fast at 3, "Shit, fuck."

"Oh-ho-ho, wow, my little lady of the hour," Eddie laughs while she runs right into his legs, knocking herself to the ground softly, "You've all met Violet, right?"

You watch him pick her up, her soft and excited, "Daddy -- Santa!" echos through the stadium.

"Hi, baby! That's right, daddy looks like Santa!" he parentese's excitedly, placing her on his hip. He looks over his shoulder to see you crouched down, tip toe-ing quickly across the stage mouthing a guilt 'sorry' his way. He grins expectantly, his perfect show girl in her stretch pants and sweatshirt. Her clean white sneakers. "There she is -- I'm sure you folks know the wife."

You wince at first and then wave while the crowd thunders at the sight of you hurrying over to Jeff to scoop up Van. Your eyes squint against the lights, the only thing you can see in the crowd are the little flames from lighters being waved by fans. The venue shakes at their applause and you're almost embarrassed by the attention -- but not too much. What's this but another red carpet? The only difference is that you never go on stage -- the last time being just after you got married so Eddie could gush about his 'for real this time' wife.

"Mama," Van whined, hands outstretched and grabby over Jeff's shoulder while he climbs into your chest. You hoist him up to make room for Violet who at first, doesn't want to go, making Ed so close to cancelling the rest of the show to cuddle her before you're finally able to wrench her out of his arms. Their heads bobble with their headphones on, snuggling up against you.

You turn to leave, but he taps you on the shoulder, still speaking into the mic, "You forgetting something?"

You look at him confused, you have both babies with you, "What?"

"You gotta pay the toll, baby," he shrugs, his smug grin making you blush. The crowd roars, they love when he's a little bit of a bastard. He looks you over, tongue running over the inside of his cheek, "Can't let you go without paying the toll."

You let out an audible sigh, facial expression playing to the cheap seats so everyone knows just how fake exasperated you are with him. You lean in and his kiss is lewd and wet over the twin's heads, the clicks of spit sounding over the speakers. He scrunches his nose at you when he breaks away, a boyish blush blooms on his cheeks.

"Thank you," he smiles, "You're free to go."

"Okay babies, you gotta wave bye to daddy's friends!" you say softly to Van and Vi as they look at the crowd.

"Say bye-bye," Eddie says gently, mimicking a wave so they'll copy. They wave over your shoulder while you walk back stage, sitting down on the fold up chairs with them both on your lap.

"Alright folks, sorry for the cutest interruption you'll ever see in your life," he says to the crowd, "And I know outside of friends and family, Christmas is about y'know -- the Lord. So in honor of the birth of Christ I'd like to introduce this next song..."

Two incredibly face melting riffs play simultaneously.

"We call it, 'Your Mother Sucks Cocks in Hell'."

You roll your eyes as the music starts, but on the bright side the twins are finally starting to nod off to sleep.

[violetsandfluff]

Sugar Cookies & Santa Hats

a/n: it’s been forever since I wrote for tumblr, so go easy on me! 😂 I will probably be less and less active in coming weeks, but I wanted to let you all know how much I love and appreciate you. happy holidays!!

wc: 1.5k

summary: girl dad!Harry sets out to convince his crestfallen daughter that Santa is real.

TW: …”Santa”

:readmore:

“Who wants to make some cookies for Santa Claus?” Harry asked and his suggestion was greeted by a shrill shriek of excitement from two-, nearly three-year-old Penny, who was standing on her tiptoes to peer inside her stocking, which hung from a coat hook near the front door. 

“Santa Claus!” she repeated, throwing her hands in the air and spinning around herself until she grew dizzy and came to an abrupt stop on the ground. 

The family cat, Agnes, eyed her through the corners of her unamused eyes before turning back to the crackling fire to continue licking her jet-black paws. 

Penny raced Harry to the kitchen, her bubbly giggles filling the room behind her as she ran. “I win!” she panted as she skidded to a stop before the refrigerator, followed by a triumphant, “I beat Daddy!”

Removing the family’s matching aprons from the pantry, you helped Penny into hers and handed her one to bestow upon Harry before donning your own. 

Contrary to her younger sister’s enthusiasm, Ruby stayed on the stairs and somberly watched her family disappear into the kitchen. 

“Come on, Rubes!” you called, hoisting Penny up to the sink to wash her tiny hands. “We need our master baker to show us how it’s done.” 

Ruby let out a soft sigh, refusing to respond. After a moment, Harry poked his head out of the kitchen, making eye contact with his eldest daughter, his brow furrowed with concern. “What’s wrong?” he questioned, but his toddler’s joyous shrieks drowned out his voice. He placed Ruby’s folded apron into her hands, but she thrust it back at him. 

“I don’t think I should make cookies for Santa,” she said after a moment, her green-gray eyes welling up with tears. 

“Why not?” asked Harry incredulously. “I thought you loved to bake cookies!”

“I do,” Ruby began, shaking her head, “but I don’t think Santa…needs them.”

“Of course he does,” laughed Harry. “Cookies keep him awake so he can bring us presents, you know!” 

Ruby shook her head once again, her ashamed eyes darting from her father to the Christmas tree and back. “Daddy,” she whispered earnestly, lowering her voice so Penny couldn’t overhear. “Santa Claus isn’t real.” 

Shocked, Harry’s eyes dropped. He heard Penny in the kitchen, cheerfully singing, “Jingle bells! Jingle bells!” paired with the crackling of the fire. He felt his cheeks grow warm as he looked from his daughter’s tearful eyes to his fidgeting hands, and back. 

“Who told you that, Ruby Doo?” he murmured softly as she began to cry. 

“People in my class,” she sniffled, looking up at him with round, glassy eyes. 

“Do you know what, bug?” Harry asked, lowering his eyes to a whisper. “When I was your age, kids at school told me the same. But do you know what happened?”

Ruby shook her head, wiping her nose on the back of her hand and listening intently. 

“On Christmas Eve, I went to bed sad, but right at midnight, I heard jingle bells and hoofbeats on the roof.”

The six-year-old’s eyes lit up. “Reindeer?” she asked, and Harry nodded. 

“When I poked my head out of my bedroom, I saw Santa arranging our presents under the tree.” 

“Really?” Ruby asked, her eyes wide as saucers. “Did he see you?” 

“He didn’t,” Harry replied, feeling the pit in his stomach disappear at his daughter’s budding excitement. “When I woke up in the morning, he had eaten all of the cookies and milk and fed the carrots to his reindeer. He even left me a special note in my stocking.”

“What did it say?” breathed Ruby and Harry gave her an impish smirk. 

“That’s between me and Santa Claus. Now. I’m guessing it’s about time to cut out the cookies.” 

Before he had time to rise to his feet, Ruby sprang off of the stairs and donned her apron as quickly as she could. She sprinted into the bathroom to wash her hands before meeting the remainder of her family in the kitchen. 

“Just in time to help us roll out the dough!” you exclaimed, casting Harry a secretive smile as you pulled a step stool up to the counter for Ruby. 

“We’re making cookies for Santa!” cheered Penny, bouncing on her toes in excitement. 

Ruby held the handles of the rolling pin tightly and you placed yours over hers, guiding their movement over the dough. When the sheet sprawled across the counter, flat and smooth, you retrieved a bag of cookie cutters from the cupboard opposite where you were standing. 

“I want to make Santas!” shouted Penny, reaching for the bag as you set it on the counter before her. 

“I want to make trees and snowflakes and snowmen!” exclaimed Ruby, reaching for the bag. “I think Santa likes snowmen the best.”

“I want to make snowmen, too!” said Penny decisively. 

While the girls distributed the cookie cutters, Harry pulled you aside. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, he lowered his lips to your ear and whispered a secret plan into it before returning his attention to his girls. 

“I’m making snowmen, Santas, bells, and reindeers!” Penny cried out joyfully as Ruby helped her press the cookie cutters into the sweet, malleable dough. 

You and Harry helped them make the most out of the sheet of dough, resulting in two pans of warm sugar cookies less than an hour later. While Harry and the girls were infatuated by a rerun of the Polar Express, you placed the cookies on cooling racks and mixed food coloring into small tubs of frosting.

“Are you ready to decorate?” you called into the darkened living room and Penny squealed excitedly. 

“We have a surprise for you, mama!” Harry called back. He, Ruby, and Penny appeared in the doorway, decked out in matching pajamas, aprons, light-up necklaces, and antler headbands.

Giving you a kiss on the cheek, he slipped a necklace on over your head and perched a Santa hat on your head. Whinnying, Penny galloped to your side, climbing onto the step stool and peering into the bowls of colored frosting. 

“Red, white, green, pink, blue…” she named the colors, accidentally poking her finger into the blue. She licked the frosting from her fingertip and would have been successful in going back for more had you not stopped her. 

“Now you’ve got to rewash your hands,” you chided, hoisting her up to clean her hands again. 

Necklace flashing merrily,  Ruby stepped onto the stool and reached for a cookie to begin icing. 

Presently, Penny sidled up next to her and selected a snowflake. The girls contentedly smeared frosting onto their cookies until their arms grew tired and their bedtimes encroached. 

They selected the cookies they saw most fit for Santa Claus and arranged them nicely on a plate with a handful of baby carrots and a glass of water (because milk would spoil if left out overnight.)

You and Harry perched on the edges of their beds--you on Penny’s and Harry on Ruby’s-- and read aloud as many stories as it took for them to drift off, dreaming excitedly of Christmas morning. 

Once they were asleep, you and Harry slipped into your own bed to discuss your midnight plan. 

“Ruby didn’t want to ruin Santa for me,” Harry smiled, just enough to make his dimple apparent. “So I told her about my experience with Santa when I was her age.” 

“When your mom was--”

Harry nodded, propping his head up on his elbow. “We should do the same. Be up by midnight?” 

~~~

Harry roused you five minutes before midnight. 

You awoke to a white, curly synthetic beard against your face. When you opened your eyes, you could distinctly make out the silhouette of your husband, decked out in a complete Santa suit, holding an armful of gifts and stocking stuffers. 

With a charming smile, Harry extended a hand to you, helping you out of bed, but nearly losing a few boxes in the process. 

You helped him steady his load before creeping silently downstairs to arrange the gifts beneath the elaborate tree. 

Once the living room was finished, lit only by the tree, which was just bright enough to see the presents stacked beneath it and the empty plate beside it, you crept up the stairs and knocked lightly on your daughters’ bedroom door. Knowing Penny was a sound sleeper, you didn’t worry about awakening her. 

Ruby, who was drifting in and out of a restless sleep, sat up immediately at the sound. Tiptoeing so as not to wake her younger sister, she let herself out of the bedroom and peered down the stairs. The sight her awestruck eyes beheld was one she would never forget. She clamped a hand over her mouth to prevent a delighted squeal from escaping, lest she blow her cover. Silently, she watched the man in the red suit distribute presents beneath the tree and slip some candy canes into the stockings. 

After a few minutes of baffled silence on her part, the six-year-old began tiptoeing back to her room. She let herself in silently and slipped back into bed with a new kind of warmth and assurance brewing in her core. What a story she would have to tell her children one day.  ~~~

Taglist: @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @groovychaosavenue @madybeth21 @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cayleyhannha-blog @whitemancumslut @xxrosebunny @daisyharry @madeintheniamh and I think that’s it? I could very well be mistaken as I’m doing this from memory. thanks for everything ❤️🎄

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If You'll Be My Bodyguard | Part Six

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Summary: The last mad dash through awards season has unfortunate consequences for Austin and you, but against the odds, you still make it to the Academy Awards.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Bodyguard Reader

Warnings: Language, Threats of Violence, Ongoing Stalker/Obsession Issues, Reader Has Body Issues, Austin Is Having None Of It, More Screenings, COVID-19 Rapid Test, COVID-19 Infection, Sickness, More Parties, Firearms, Wardrobe Malfunction, Austin and Reader In A Public Washroom Again, Sexual Tension, Innuendos, Rating - T.

Credit: Julian Ungano

Word Count: 4756

“…Satan, the great deceiver, has his claws so deeply into your flawed flesh, Butler. Has connvinced you that stealing the soul on Elvis Aaron Presley from his eternal rest for your own gains was a good thing. DECEIVED. Has connvinced you that you are safe with that godless whore by your side, taking my strikes meant for you on her body. DECEIVED. Has connvinced you that I have been stopped now that the unholy cops of Santa Barbara have taken my angel Gabriel from me. DECEIVED. I shall not be stopped until my work is done…”

Though getting a personal mention in the latest letter made your lips twitch into a smirk, you could not help but notice the increased level of rage in her latest missive. The iPad sank onto your knees as your eyes went unfocused, your mind’s eye turning back to reflect on the glimpses you’d managed to catch of the unknown woman, Austin’s threatening stalker, before Austin’s anguish-filled eyes flooded your memory and made you swallow painfully.

You closed the email from Scott containing the scanned copy of the letter and glanced at your watch, wondering how late Shyla would be. Austin’s laughter cascaded down the stairs from where he was partaking in a virtual interview in his bedroom to allow you the main floor to work with Shyla on finally choosing a gown for the Oscars. The schedule had been so hectic that it had not been possible to make time to go to her, and thus she was coming to you with some options today. Another warm laugh reached your ears and made you smile softly.

It had been a good thing, you reflected, that Austin’s father had arrived the night after the incident at the hotel. He had been a comforting and reassuring presence and restored some of Austin’s usual good humour – they had both delighted in the confusion that reigned with two Mr. Butler’s for you to manage at the Screen Actor’s Guild Awards. Austin’s red suit, consisting of three pieces no less, had also seemed like a personal assault on your reaffirmed vow of professionalism. And while it had been a shame that Austin had not taken home the award that night, you could not help but be struck by the growing sense of camaraderie amongst the nominees…and the elder Mr. Butler had also been able to witness his son assisting the leading ladies of Hollywood to the stage, which you were certain filled him with fatherly pride all the same.

Your phone buzzed with a call from the gate, and you quickly answered, pleased to hear Shyla’s rushed greeting mixed with an apology about traffic.

“Come on in, Shyla!” You hit nine on the number pad to unlock the gate and opened the front door to see her pull in, stepping out to help her with a collapsible garment rack and eight garment bags. “This seems like a lot of choices…”

“We have to make sure you look perfect” She grinned, her fashionable, jet-black bob glossy in the afternoon sun.

“You remember that no one is really going to see me, right?” You teased but she was already making her way inside, setting up the rack in the living room.

Following with a shake of your head, you hung the bags on the rack carefully, watching as she eagerly unzipped them to reveal a variety of dresses. They were in neutral shades, as prescribed for the non-talent attendees, but you frowned a little as only half of them had sleeves.

“I know, I know…” She said, immediately reading your face. “Will you please just humour me? I want you to try them all, so we get a really good picture.”

You crinkled your nose but took a slow breath and nodded.

“All right, where do you want me to start?” You tilted your head and took the first one she offered you, a cloud grey scoop neck with thin straps and A-line skirt.

Taking it carefully, you went to change in Austin’s office, which was now essentially your permanent bedroom, and returned to the living room, desperately fighting the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. Shyla tilted her head thoughtfully, walking around you in a circle silently as she took in the full look.

“Well?” You asked hesitantly, not able to see yourself.

“Oh! Oh, come here…” She led you by the shoulders into the powder room where there was a mirror where you could at least see yourself at least from the waist up.

“Oil me up and put me in the ring…Hulk Hogan is here…” You groaned before assuming the ‘most muscular pose’ from body building – your legs spread wide, and your torso bent forward as you flexed and curled your arms inward to show off every exposed inch of muscle on your body. “Whatcha gonna do when Hulkmania runs wild on you?!” You growled in an impersonation of the professional wrestler.

“Betty, darling, I don’t think you’re being very kind to yourself right now…” Austin suddenly appeared, leaning against the door frame with his eyebrows raised.

Shyla, who had been giggling beside you in the tiny room, gasped sharply as you felt heat flush across your face and down your neck.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Butler, did we disturb you?” You immediately straightened, biting your lip.

“No I am finished, and you don’t owe me an apology…” He glanced around the bathroom. “Is this really where you’re doing this? Come on…” He grabbed your hands and pulled you out of the bathroom, Shyla following silently in tow.

He swung by the living room, grabbing the other gowns and easily holding them off the ground as he led you upstairs and down the hall into his dressing room. The last time you had been in here it had been impossibly full of his girlfriend’s clothes but now it felt more spacious with only his things. He hung up the gowns and gently led you by the shoulders to stand in front of a full length mirror before turning on the lights so you had an even better view of how much you hated yourself in this dress. He stepped aside.

“There’s the person you need to apologize to.” He said once you were alone with your reflection, and you looked to him slowly, feeling caught red handed.

“I…” You looked back to your reflection and sighed.

“Have you ever been to the ballet?” Austin asked as he stepped closer and you nodded slowly, puzzled. “And how would you describe a ballerina?”

“Elegant, graceful, beautiful.” You replied easily, without hesitation.

“Have you seen one up close? Their bodies are just as muscular as yours…just because you use yours differently doesn’t negate the fact that you are elegant, graceful, and beautiful yourself.”

The breath shuddered out of your lungs as your eyes flashed to his in the mirror, wide with shock and disbelief.

“Not to mention brave, fearless, intelligent, funny, and a little unpredictable which I thoroughly enjoy. So don’t you dare make fun of your body because this dress looks bad on it…the dress is the problem.” He continued earnestly, blue eyes stubbornly piercing into yours, holding you captive as he cut through all your insecurities as though they were mere paper fictions instead of concrete walls you had constructed around yourself.

You blinked rapidly, ripping your eyes from his gaze forcefully as you tried to hold back the rising tide of emotion, any words you might have spoken congealing in your throat. You felt him squeeze your shoulders reassuringly and sniffed a little, swiping at a few rogue tears.

“So, lets try another dress please…” He looked to Shyla warmly and she quickly introduced herself before offering you the next dress.

You took it quickly, crossing the hall to a larger bathroom to change into a black dress with a smocked waist and balloon sleeves. Taking a few extra moments and a few tissues, you composed yourself before returning to the dressing room where Austin had found a stool for you to step onto, as though you were in a private dress shop. He turned out to be the pickiest of the three of you, rejecting this dress for seeming too casual, and the next with its asymmetrical straps in camel for being too plain.

The fourth dress, a navy chiffon with a plunge neckline with sheer sleeves and full skirt, had you returning to the room with a small smile on your face and a little more confidence. Both Austin and Shyla could see it. Could see that the colour, while neutral, was still stunning, and that confidence looked good on you. You tested the slit, kicking out your leg and doing your utmost to deny the fact that you saw Austin’s adam’s apple bob violently at the sudden appearance of your flesh. Because that did not happen. No.

“I only hesitate with the neckline and…well slippage…I know there’s netting but…”

“Oh!” Shyla’s face lit up. “We have body tape for that!” She pulled a roll from her bag and twirled it between her fingers. “It’s got double-sided adhesive that helps fabric stay exactly where you want it.” She nodded.

“This is definitely the front runner for me…” Austin murmured from beside you and you took another look in the mirror before nodding in agreement.

“Me, too.”

It remained that way, too, despite the other four dresses that Shyla had brought with her. None fit you quite as well as the navy one, nor made you feel the same way either – sleeved and sleeveless alike.

“That settles it then.” You nodded with a sigh of relief, happy to finally have gotten that decision out of the way.

Austin insisted on storing it in the dressing room for you to keep it safe, and helped you and Shyla load the other dresses and garment rack back into her vehicle before she headed out. Standing on the driveway together as the sun began to sink lower in the sky, you turned towards him softly and smiled.

“Thank you, Austin.” You said softly, pressing your lips together as you felt another overwhelming wave of emotion.

“Couldn’t have you saying that garbage about yourself under my roof now, Betty.” He smiled fondly, slinging his arm around your shoulders, leading you inside. “Homemade pizza for dinner?”

You followed him in eagerly, tempted by the sensation that this was a normal night in your normal life…because it felt so right.

The bone-aching fatigue you woke up with that Saturday should have been more of a warning sign. Should have registered in your fatigued brain that something was off, but you simply brushed it off as awards season burn-out and had a little extra caffeine that day. When Austin came down the stairs in his tuxedo-striped pants and long coat to attend the screening that evening, your heart raced fiercely, and you were briefly concerned you had overdone it. This man, the man you were meant to protect, just might be the death of you himself.

And while to the public he appeared himself, and the video they found of him from a newscast as a small boy was adorable, you noticed. Noticed the way that his eyes seemed a little greyer than normal, the way he needed to clear his throat more often, the effort needed to conjure that breathtaking smile, the way his heels dragged a little on the way to the car once the final screening was complete. It should have been cause for celebration, but you were all eager to go home and get to bed.

Everything clicked into place when you awoke the next morning with the sensation that someone had spent the nighttime hours sandblasting your eyes, throat, and sinuses. Your joints, your skin, even the roots of your hair hurt, and despite the heap of blankets on your body you felt the urge to shiver. You forced yourself out of bed, rifling through your bag to find a rapid test kit and performed a throat and nose swab. You managed to limit your sneezes to only eight, a small victory, before leaving the test to marinate, setting a timer as you slid back into the refuge of bed.

The chime of the timer startled you awake, making it obvious you had drifted off, and you stood to look at the test strip, sighing heavily at the clear positive. You took a photo and sent it to Scott before texting Austin.

– Mr. Butler, you should do a rapid test, I am symptomatic and tested positive. I’m so sorry. –

Frowning deeply, you found some cold and flu meds in your kit and took them, sitting back on the bed, blinking as there was a knock at your door.

“Me too, Betty. Come out here I’m making tea…” Came a very stuffy voice through the door.

You pulled on a hoodie and shuffled out, pausing to bend down and scritch Biscuit warmly in greeting, before meeting Austin in the kitchen.

“Don’t apologize for this, either…” He paused to cough into his elbow. “Brendan and Colin both had it a few weeks ago…it’s just our turn I suppose.”

“Did you take something?” You asked, finding a couple of mugs as he got the water boiling, smiling a little as he nodded. “Good.”

“Flavour?” He opened the tea drawer, and you chose your preferred tea, and he did the same.

“Are you hungry at all? Eggs? Soup? Toast?” Even though you were also sick, you still felt a need to take care of him.

“Let’s make eggs and toast because we need to eat…” He nodded and the pair of you shuffled around each other in a silent dance, making food for fuel instead of pleasure, settling onto the couch with blankets and tea.

Biscuit happily nuzzled in between the pair of you as you took turns picking movies and TV shows, easting and drinking as your bodies demanded. You were relieved when Ari tested negative, glad no one else was suffering.

“Honestly, it’s been so non-stop I’m not at all surprised this happened…” He sighed softly and you nodded.

“I had no idea what an insane pace this sort of thing involves…you should get awards just for the trouble of going through it…” You shook your head, grinning as he chuckled, frowning as it devolved into coughing.

As the sun sank lower, you felt his head fall onto your shoulder, heavy with the involuntary nap that overtook him. You smiled fondly and made sure he was tucked in, leaning back against the couch more firmly to brace the pair of you knowing that the soft sighs of his sleeping breath would surely pull you under in short order. You were not expecting, however, to wake enveloped in his arms, tucked under his chin with your bodies stretched out on the couch. You were both on your sides, covered by blankets, with Biscuit curled up at your feet. Austin must have woken up at some point and adjusted the pair of you to be more comfortable.

Because comfortable this was. Heavenly even. You felt so utterly pathetic and unwell and his embrace so warm and soothing, his hands splayed across your back, that you made the deliberate decision to nuzzle back into his chest as though you had never awakened. When you next opened your eyes, he was outside with Biscuit and you crept to your bed, taking the coward’s way out and pretending you never even knew it happened.

The two of you were equally ill and useless the next day, ordering in Thai soup in an attempt to be able to taste what you were eating. By the third day, you started to feel a little better, and the fourth even more so. Day five, the last day of Academy enforced quarantine, you both managed to shake off the last vestiges of infection and plan out the last sprint to the Awards ceremony on Sunday.

“And then I understand that you wanted to travel somewhere following that. Have you made a decision about where?” You tilted your head curiously, sitting on the patio with him and Biscuit, enjoying the sunshine and feeling of a healthy body – something seldom enjoyed unless one had just recovered from something.

“Somewhere warm – tropical even. Far from the usual spots…Honestly, I think I’ll book it on Monday or Tuesday, see where the wind takes me. Everything’s been so planned that I just want to be spontaneous.” He leaned back on his lounge chair and you nodded warmly, hardly blaming him for wanting some agency back in his life. “Besides, you’ll be there, so it’ll be perfect.” He grinned teasingly and you laughed shaking your head, but unable to resist the urge to smooth a bit of your hair tousled by the gentle breeze that day.

The pre-Oscar events seemed just like the dozens of other cocktail parties you’d attended over the past two months, with mostly the same attendees, all desperate to fawn over Austin especially after his illness-mandated absence. Despite being technically recovered, you were still tired when you returned home early Sunday morning and more than a little touched when Marwan offered to do your laundry for the week when he found you loading the washing machine.

You were surprised by the number of stylists who arrived at noon to help Austin prepare for the Academy Awards, only to be informed that half of them were there for you. You narrowed you eyes as he watched them haul you into the spare room, his own gaze filled with glee at having fooled you. After nearly two hours of attention focused solely on you, something that you found utterly overwhelming and perhaps a little embarrassing, you went down to your room to change, moving to grab your undergarments and thigh holster, smiling at the stack of neatly folded laundry on your bed.

Only to blink as the holster and garter lay there right on top. You swore under your breath. In your sleepy haze, you must have put it into the washing machine the night before. Knowing it was handwash only, you inspected it carefully, almost chewing your lip but mercifully remembering it was covered in lipstick. To your eyes, it seemed to be in normal condition, and they slid into place without issue. Sliding your pocket pistol into the holster, you carefully pulled on your dress before finishing the look with comfortable heels and stepped out to meet Austin, waiting in his tuxedo.

“My, my, my…you clean up very nicely.” He smiled warmly, using your real name with an affectionate tone that threatened to turn your knees to jelly.

“Thank you. I suppose you’ll be happy not to put on another tuxedo for a while?” You smiled shyly, your lips morphing into a broad grin as he laughed richly with an enthusiastic nod.

“Truer words…shall we?” He offered his arm, and you took it carefully, corralling the volume of your skirt with your other hand so the pair of you could make it through the doorway.

Out of habit, you headed for the front seat, but Austin grasped your wrist.

“Ah, ah, ah…pretty ladies get to ride in the back.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes.

Across the vehicle, Ari wolf-whistled teasingly.

“Both of you are terrible…” You muttered but complied, gathering your skirts and sliding into the back with Austin.

He grinned at you warmly once he settled into his seat and Ari had pulled out, but you noticed his leg bouncing a little with pent up energy.

“I thought your agent was joining you this evening?” You asked, trying to distract him.

“Hmm? James? Oh yeah, he’s meeting us there, he’ll be with Kate when we’re dropped off…” His fingers reached out, toying a little with the fluffy chiffon of your skirt. “You really did pick the right dress, you know…”

You found yourself smiling shyly, the back of the SUV feeling instantaneously all too intimate.

“Thank you again for your help with that…” You repeated softly and he nodded firmly.

He lapsed into a comfortable silence, watching the scenery pass by the window until it felt like you were suddenly pulling up to the curb just beside the entrance to the red carpet. Austin slid out and jogged around, insisting on helping you out. You were about to step out when you felt something loosen beneath your skirt and quickly reached up the slit in the fabric to find the garter strap had come unclasped.

“Sorry Austin, just a moment.” You muttered, mortified, and he quickly looked aside, throat bobbing with a visible swallow, but continued to shield you with his body as you snapped it back into place.

“Thank you very much, sorry about that.” You said warmly and he took your hand, helping you from the car with a bright smile.

Kate and James were waiting as Austin predicted, Kate exclaiming over your dress and pulling you close, overcome by the celebratory atmosphere of the evening.

You assumed the usual bag and took their personal effects for safe keeping during the red carpet walk. There were a tremendous number of press and fans this time, and it was harder to map your theoretical path towards Austin through the sea of people, but you did your best to remain focused. Whether your face was becoming familiar, or because you were dressed in a way that did not insist upon people ignoring you, you also found a lot of people, talent and non-talent both, greeting and complimenting your look. You missed the particularly heated smolder that the photographers were capturing from Austin as a result.

Nearly three quarters of the way through the gauntlet, you felt the garter strap give again. Felt gravity begin to pull down on the firearm and the thigh holster in turn, with each step you took. You shifted the bag over to that arm, hoping to cover as much of your thigh as possible lest people catch a glimpse of what you were trying to conceal. You clenched your thighs together, trying to take mincing steps, hoping the friction would hold it in the place. The doors to the building were in sight now, you just needed a washroom to dart into and resecure the damned thing.

At last, you were inside the lobby to the theatre and Austin collected his phone and things. You leaned up to whisper in his ear.

“I’m just going to find the washroom, will you be ok?”

He looked at you puzzled, as this was highly unusual for you, but nodded quickly.

“Of course, Betty, I’ll be right here.” He nodded and squeezed your shoulder, watching you shuffle your way into the single-stalled washroom nearby.

You set the bag on the counter and set your heel on the edge of it, tossing back the skirt and hiked the holster back up into place. Lining up the garter strap and clip, you managed to secure it, only to have it pop back open immediately. There was a knock at the door, and you glanced at it, swallowing.

“Just a moment!” You tried not to sound as frustrated as you felt.

“Betty, it’s me.” Austin’s worried tone came through the door.

“I’ll be right out!” You were just about the close the clasp again when the cursed thing disintegrated in your fingers. “Fuck!” You hissed and he knocked more insistently.

“Betty let me in.” He said firmly.

“No! No, I’ll be fine.” You protested stubbornly, even though you had no idea how you were going to solve this one.

“Betty you’re going to open the door or I’m going to break it down and how do you think that will look.” He practically threatened and you huffed wildly at the entire situation, stomping over to unlock the door.

He slipped in quickly, locking it behind him with a look of concern etched on his features.

“Are you ok? You never leave me in public and I’m worried about you…” His eyes quickly scanned your face and he frowned.

“It’s not…” You bit your lip and sighed heavily at the taste of lipstick. “it’s the damned holster, the garter clip has failed, and it won’t stay up without it and everyone is going to see my gun or me yanking at something under my skirt or both if I don’t fix this.” You let out in a rush.

“Ok…ok breathe…” He smiled softly. “I’m glad you’re not sick or hurt. Are you wearing underwear?” Austin asked and your jaw dropped incredulously.

“Yes of course I am!” You replied defensively. “But I don’t see why…”

“Good.” He cut you off. “Can I take a look?” He asked as he sank to his knees before you and your vision quite honestly swam for a moment. You realized more than few seconds had passed and you had yet to reply, so you quickly began to gather your skirt up into your hands.

“Uh huh.” You managed to vocalize, turning your gaze skyward as looking at him in that position made you feel faint.

There was utter silence in the small bathroom, both of you holding your breath, neither of you moving, until suddenly you felt the brush of his fingertips against your thigh as he collected the garter strap between his thumb and forefinger to closely inspect the clasp, making you jump violently.

“Easy there, sorry…” He soothed you, his free hand cupping the back of your thigh, and it was honestly up for debate whether or not that was at all helpful. “Ok, in the bag, I got Kate to pack the nipple…uh...the…uh…the body tape…”

You did not miss the way he stuttered after saying word ‘nipple’ while face to face with the apex of your thighs and it brought you a modicum of smug satisfaction to know that he, too, was struggling in this moment. You put as much fabric as you could into one arm and reached into the bag, blindly groping until you found the roll of tape and passed it to him. There was an absence of touch then, and you clenched your eyes shut as you listened to him open the package before jumping again as his fingers brushed against your tender flesh once more. You felt him put the clasp in place before he cleared his throat.

“I need you to hold that closed for me.” He rasped, the damned fiend.

You reached a hand down to pinch it closed, feeling him wind tape around the strap from below the clasp, over the clasp, and a good deal above the clasp for good measure.

“Does that feel good?” He asked and cleared his throat. “Like it’ll hold?” He clarified.

“Y…yes. I think that’s great thanks…” You nodded and he stood smoothly.

Stepping back, you let your skirts fall before bouncing on your heels a little, nodding quickly.

“Very secure, thank you so much.” You added, speaking to the general vicinity of his chest as his eyes were too overwhelming in normal circumstances, let alone whatever these were.

The grey smudges on the knees of his otherwise perfect black trousers caught your eyes and you hissed.

“Wait!”

You quickly grabbed some paper towel and dampened it under the tap, grasping his hip to steady yourself as you swiped the dust and dirt from his knees, nodding once you were satisfied you had erased the evidence of him kneeling in a public washroom. You straightened without thinking, suddenly face-to-face with his chin, his head automatically tilting down, eyes boring into yours.

Time slowed, and existence narrowed to the feel and taste of his breath as tiny puffs of it brushed against your upturned lips just inches from his. Your fingers dug further into his hip, like a ship at anchor in violent seas, and he shifted a fraction closer.

A sharp knock at the door sent you reeling backwards, kick-starting your sluggish heart so it now rabbited at your throat.

“Austin?” You heard Kate’s voice through the door and looked to him with wide eyes. He gave you an equally wide-eyed look in return, mouth opening and closing with things he wanted to say. “Are you in there?”

“On my way, Kate!” He choked out instead and you nodded, cramming yourself into the corner and motioning for him to step out.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you standing alone with the bathroom, faced with the nigh impossible task of pulling yourself back together.

Read Part Seven

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Tag List: @littlewhiterose, @austinsvlrslut, @emrysdreams, @slowsweetlove, @xstrengthxinxtragedyx, @shelbygeek, @kingdomforapony, @artlover8992, @eliseinmemphis, @haydensith, @breadsquash, @chimchimjiminie16, @qxiva, @lilsiz

[sassyfrassboss]

Ahaaa. Yes I Googled him & he knows a lot of the international jet-set, like Santo Domingo etc. like seems to be very good friends with a lot of them like Tatiana Santa Domingo, Nicky Hilton etc. Tatiana Santa Domingo is married into the Monaco Royal family too & Nicky Hilton is married Into the Rothschild family. Ya! That’s exactly the old-money crowd with a Capital O, that MM aspires to befriend!!

Weren’t there rumours initially that the Harkles were planning to move to NYC?

Well this is what a prominent NYC society writer had to say about her 2 years ago- “Meanwhile, New-York based writer George Wayne, who Tatler notes is 'known for publishing an annual list of zeitgeisty-y New Yorkers' claimed: 'There is no one that I know, or care to know, who is a fan of the calculating, mousy subterfuge of Meghan.'

🤣🤣

There were rumors they were going to get an apartment there so they could work from NYC part of the time and be closer to London. However, they can't afford an apartment in NYC.

I think she would like to live there from time to time but I get the impression she hates cold weather.

[worstvideogamesong-poll]

Worst Video Game Song Tournament Masterpost

The tournament has begun! We are currently in round 4, and each poll will be open for a week. I will also be reblogging each poll 12 hours after it is posted so that people in different time zones are able to see them more easily. If you don't want to see these reblogs, block the tag #12th hour reblog. There will be a total of 8 polls in this round. 4 polls will be posted a day for a total of 2 days.

When you vote, I would recommend listening to as much as you can of each song before voting, but how you choose is up to you. Remember to be civil in the tags and replies! Some posts will have propaganda included with the songs, but feel free to add more propaganda in the tags and replies, or send it to me in the ask box and I'll try to share it as soon as I can!

View the bracket, make predictions and more on Challonge here

View the spreadsheet of submissions here

View the original introduction post here

Read the FAQ here

Listen to the full playlist on YouTube here

Full list of polls under the cut:

Round 1

Match 1 - Lavender Town (Pokémon Red/Blue) vs. Vs. Odd Yo-Kai (Yo-Kai Watch)

Match 2 - K.K. Synth (Animal Crossing New Leaf) vs. Bad Feeling (Mad Rat Dead)

Match 3 - This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy (Project Sekai: Colorful Stage! feat. Hatsune Miku) vs. Morpho Knight (Kirby and the Forgotten Land)

Match 4 - Track 6 (The Ring: Terror's Realm) vs. Fallen Down (Undertale)

Match 5 - Rodeo Time! (Yo-Kai Watch 3) vs. The Fade (Dragon Age Origins)

Match 6 - Rivers in the Desert (mito Remix) (Persona 5 Dancing in Starlight) vs. Birthday Cake (Jet Set Radio Future)

Match 7 - Let's Start the Killing Game (Danganronpa v3: Killing Harmony) vs. You've Got to Eat Your Vegetables! (Commander Keen 4)

Match 8 - Venus (Doom Troopers Sega Genesis) vs. GB Hunter Theme (GB Hunter)

Match 9 - Know What I Mean? (Mario Party 2) vs. Boss Theme 1 (Sonic Superstars)

Match 10 - Area 4, 8, & 13 (Santa Claus Saves the Earth GBA) vs. The Yoshi Clan (Yoshi's New Island)

Match 11 - Bomb Rush Blush (Remix) - Splatoon 2 vs. Mansion Basement (Resident Evil Director's Cut)

Match 12 - Monkeys (Nancy Drew: Ransom of the Seven Ships) vs. Vacation Music 1 (The Sims 1)

Match 13 - Hazy Lane (Yo-Kai Watch 3) vs. Central City (Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood)

Match 14 - Mumble Blues (Armed and Delirious (Dementia)) vs. Crazy Bus Title Screen (Crazy Bus)

Match 15 - Striptease (Persona 4) vs. Professor Birch's Laboratory (Pokémon Omega Ruby/Alpha Sapphire)

Match 16 - Oppression (Cave Story) vs. Spookwave (Undertale)

Match 17 - Nocturne (Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood) vs. Ancient Chozo Ruins (Metroid II: Return of Samus)

Match 18 - Diggity Dog (WWF No Mercy N64) vs. YZAP (Yo-Kai Watch 3)

Match 19 - Versus (Sonic Eraser) vs. Neo-Opportunist (Mad Rat Dead)

Match 20 - 50m (Donkey Kong '94) vs. Black Tar (Xenoblade Chronicles X)

Match 21 - Shadow World (DE DE MOUSE Remix) (Persona 4 Dancing All Night) vs. Mushroom Road (Tales of the Abyss)

Match 22 - Fest Zest (Splatoon 2) vs. Survival Instincts Kicking In (Bravely Default II)

Match 23 - Drawbridge Dilemma (WarioWare: Get it Together!) vs. Fight Theme 1 (Omikron: The Nomad Soul)

Match 24 - Thrifty Megamart (Pokémon Sun/Moon) vs. Metal Gear MS DOS Soundtrack (Metal Gear MS DOS)

Match 25 - NLA (Night) (Xenoblade Chronicles X) vs. Spooktune (Undertale)

Match 26 - Namco Arcade 80's Retro Medley (Super Smash Bros. for Wii U) vs. I Love Beijing Tiananmen (Hong Kong 97)

Match 27 - Stage Theme (1942) vs Red-Green-Yellow-Yellow (Mother 3)

Match 28 - Din's Power (Harp) (The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword) vs. Wildfire (Honkai: Star Rail)

Match 29 - Midna's Lament (Remix) (Super Smash Bros. Ultimate) vs. Tired of Life (Lady of Beestmeel Bro)

Match 30 - Holy Orders? (Guilty Gear XX) vs. Burning Men's Soul (Persona Trinity Soul)

Match 31 - Built to Scale (Rhythm Heaven Fever) vs. Main Theme (Beverly Hills Cop)

Match 32 - Just Leave Me Alone (OMORI) vs. Denegul (Lagoon)

Match 33 - Now or Never! (Remix) (Super Smash Bros. Ultimate) vs. Crown Dungeon (The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Ages)

Match 34 - Heart and Soul (Cutscene) (Sonic Frontiers) vs. Dungeon Man (EarthBound)

Match 35 - Resetti's Theme (Animal Crossing: Wild World) vs. Rise & Shine, Ursine! (Danganronpa v3: Killing Harmony)

Match 36 - Belly Flop (Splatoon 3) vs. Lemon Jelly (The Sims 2)

Match 37 - mmm yess put the tree on my pizza (Pizza Tower) vs. The Moving Gigantic Ship (Tales of Xillia)

Match 38 - Comin' at ya, My girl (Yakuza 5) vs. Track 7 (Frozen Fruits)

Match 39 - Battle (Field) (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild) vs. Title Theme (The Adventures of Rad Gravity)

Match 40 - Emphasis on Scat (BattleBlock Theater) vs. Shipwreckin' (Splatoon 2)

Match 41 - Tem Shop (Undertale) vs. Character Select (Marvel vs. Capcom 2)

Match 42 - Title Screen (Tagin' Dragon) vs. Path of Pain (Hollow Knight)

Match 43 - What's Your Name? (San Fransisco Rush) vs. Pathetic House (Undertale)

Match 44 - Mine: Zew (The Void/Tension) vs. Chocobo Theme (Final Fantasy 2)

Match 45 - Versus Giegue (EarthBound Beginnings) vs. Dragon's Den (Pokémon Gold/Silver)

Match 46 - Great Bay Temple (The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask) vs. Sagat's Theme (Street Fighter 1)

Match 47 - Chocobo Theme (Final Fantasy X-2) vs. Honeylune Ridge (Super Mario Odyssey)

Match 48 - Close in the Distance (Final Fantasy XIV: Endwalker) vs. Shrimp Shuffle (Rhythm Heaven Fever)

Match 49 - Desert (Super Mario Bros.) (Super Mario Maker 2) vs. National Anthem (Double Dribble Arcade)

Match 50 - Dubble Bath (DIY Remix) (Splatoon 2) vs. Fun House (Spider-Man the Animated Series)

Match 51 - Options (Sonic Spinball) vs. Welcome to Mario Cars 2 (Mario Cars 2)

Match 52 - Twilit Battle (The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess) vs. Confusion (Digimon World 3)

Match 53 - 25m (Donkey Kong) vs. Buying Goods at Palmira (Evergrace)

Match 54 - Crazy Shuffle Theme (Action 52) vs. Joke's End (Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga)

Match 55 - Treasure Caves (Wild Woody) vs. Long Elevator (Undertale)

Match 56 - Conspiracy (わるだくみ) (Muv Luv) vs. Opening (Sonic Blast 3D 5)

Match 57 - Digital Roots (Deltarune Chapter 2) vs. Lying in the Darkness (Tales of Graces)

Match 58 - Victory Road (Pokémon HeartGold/SoulSilver) vs. Title Music (Manic Miner)

Match 59 - Donut Plains (Super Mario Kart) vs. Nightclub (Sabotaged) (Payday 3)

Match 60 - Credtrap (Nancy Drew: Secrets Can Kill) vs. Cole Train Rap (Gears of War)

Match 61 - Tragic Prince (Castlevania: Symphony of the Night) vs. Theme of Stardust (Yakuza 2)

Match 62 - Vital (Fornite) vs. Title Screen (Ballz 3D)

Match 63 - Emblem Engage! (Fire Emblem: Engage) vs. Sub-Tree Area (Kirby Super Star)

Match 64 - Maximum Power (After Burner (Amiga)) vs. Imp's Song (DOOM)

Round 2

Match 1 - Lavender Town (Pokémon Red/Blue) vs. K.K. Synth (Animal Crossing: New Leaf)

Match 2 - This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy (Project Sekai: Colorful Stage! feat. Hatsune Miku) vs. Track 6 (The Ring: Terror's Realm)

Match 3 - The Fade (Dragon Age: Origins) vs. Birthday Cake (Jet Set Radio Future)

Match 4 - You've Got to Eat Your Vegetables! (Commander Keen 4) vs. GB Hunter Theme (GB Hunter)

Match 5 - Know What I Mean? (Mario Party 2) vs. The Yoshi Clan (Yoshi's New Island)

Match 6 - Mansion Basement (Resident Evil Director's Cut) vs. Vacation Music 1 (The Sims 1)

Match 7 - Central City (Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood) vs. Title Screen (Crazy Bus)

Match 8 - Striptease (Persona 4) vs. Spookwave (Undertale)

Match 9 - Nocturne (Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood) vs. Diggity Dog (WWF No Mercy (N64))

Match 10 - Versus (Sonic Eraser) vs. 50m (Donkey Kong)

Match 11 - Shadow World (DE DE MOUSE Remix) (Persona 4 Dancing All Night) vs. Survival Instincts Kicking In (Bravely Default II)

Match 12 - Fight Theme 1 (Omikron: The Nomad Soul) vs. Metal Gear MS DOS Soundtrack (Metal Gear MS DOS)

Match 13 - NLA (Night) (Xenoblade Chronicles X) vs. I Love Beijing Tiananmen (Hong Kong 97)

Match 14 - Stage Theme (1942) vs. Din's Power (Harp) (The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword)

Match 15 - Tired of Life (Lady of Beestmeel Bro) vs. Holy Orders? (Guilty Gear XX)

Match 16 - Main Theme (Beverly Hills Cop (PC)) vs. Denegul (Lagoon(SNES))

Match 17 - Crown Dungeon (The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Ages) vs. Dungeon Man (EarthBound)

Match 18 - Resetti's Theme (Animal Crossing: Wild World) vs. Belly Flop (Splatoon 3)

Match 19 - The Moving Gigantic Ship (Tales of Xillia) vs. Track 7 (Frozen Fruits)

Match 20 - Title Theme (The Adventures of Rad Gravity) vs. Emphasis on Scat (BattleBlock Theater)

Match 21 - Character Select (Marvel vs. Capcom 2) vs. Title Screen (Tagin' Dragon (NES))

Match 22 - What's Your Name? (San Fransisco Rush) vs. Mine: Zew (The Void/Tension)

Match 23 - Versus Giegue (EarthBound Beginnings) vs. Sagat's Theme (Street Fighter 1)

Match 24 - Chocobo Theme (Final Fantasy X-2) vs. Shrimp Shuffle (Rhythm Heaven Fever)

Match 25 - National Anthem (Double Dribble Arcade) vs. Fun House (Spider-Man: The Animated Series)

Match 26 - Welcome to Mario Cars 2 (Mario Cars 2) vs. Confusion (Digimon World 3)

Match 27 - Buying Goods at Palmira (Evergrace) vs. Crazy Shuffle Theme (Action 52)

Match 28 - Treasure Caves (Wild Woody) vs. Opening (Sonic 3D Blast 5)

Match 29 - Lying in the Darkness (Tales of Graces) vs. Title Music (Manic Miner)

Match 30 - Nightclub (Sabotaged) (Payday 3) vs. Credtrap (Nancy Drew: Secrets Can Kill)

Match 31 - Theme of Stardust (Yakuza 2) vs. Title Screen (Ballz 3D(SNES))

Match 32 - Emblem Engage! (Fire Emblem: Engage) vs. Imp's Song (DOOM)

Round 3

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Mistletoe Mishaps

Pairings: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, implied sex, iceman having his heart broken, 18+

Summary: At Tom Kazansky’s Christmas party, you get caught under the mistletoe with the infamous Maverick

“Carole, don’t you think I look a little overdressed, it’s only a party at Iceman’s house. What do you think the others will be wearing.” You spoke nervously, touching up your lipstick in the bathroom mirror, with your phone tucked under your ear.

“I think you look perfect. Everyone is dressing up, remember, Iceman and Slider are wearing suits, pretty sure Goose is still wearing a Hawaiian shirt but let’s be honest, it’s my crazy husband. If I could get that man in a suit, it would be a miracle.” Carole sighed, “I’m wearing a dress too and you always look beautiful, so don’t worry.”

You could hear in Carole’s voice she was giving you her signature smile and you couldn’t help but feel a little less stressed.

“Alright, thanks, Carole. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon, Lovely.” You hung up the phone, running your hands over your dress to smooth out the creases for what felt like the hundredth time. Why were you so stressed? You were going to a casual Christmas party with your friends. What could go wrong?

As soon as you arrived, Carole pulled you into a tight hug. She looked stunning, dressed in a simple, green, knee-length dress. She’d had her hair permed and she was wearing a perfume that Goose had bought her, with your help, for her birthday. Goose greeted you, with a hug and kissed your cheek. Carole had been right, Goose was dressed in jeans and had his Christmas Hawaiian shirt on.

“It’s Christmas-themed. Look, it has Santa surfing on it.”

Iceman and Slider were dressed in black suits and greeted you politely, Iceman placed a gentle kiss on your cheek before guiding you through the crowd, his hand on your lower back, to where they had set up a temporary bar.

“You look stunning,” he whispered in your ear and you thanked him gratefully. You had always had a soft spot for Tom. Carole was convinced he was besotted with you, but your heart had always belonged to someone else. The infamous Pete Mitchell. You’d first met Pete through Carole and Goose and you’d worked with him on occasion but he was always so elusive. He was known for being a womaniser and Carole had often warned you of his latest escapade, which was normally when she bring up Tom Kazansky to try and divert your attention.

Tom was a gentleman and he’d never made a move on you, which you appreciated. Even now you two chatted quite happily at the bar together. Music was playing and the atmosphere was jovial but something was missing. As if the universe was trying to send you a message, the door swung open and in stepped Pete Mitchell. You held your breath to stop yourself from gasping, taking a large gulp from your drink and trying to keep your eyes trained on Tom to stop yourself from staring. He was dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and black tie, the jacket was slightly too big for him and he tugged at the collar of his shirt awkwardly, his eyes searching the room. Tom must have noticed that you weren’t paying attention to him because he turned around to see Pete. “Hey, Mav,” he waved him over and Pete made his way hurriedly across the room to you.

“Hey, Ice. Sorry, I’m late, the traffic was horrendous.”

“That’s ok. I bet you broke every traffic law on the way here anyway. How is that death trap of yours?” Tom asked while pouring Pete a glass of whiskey.

“My ‘motorbike’ is fine, thanks.” He smiled, shaking his head. Considering Tom was a naval aviator, flying fast jets at death-defying speed, he’d always hated Pete’s bike.

“Hey, Pete.” You said quietly, making yourself known. Pete greeted you awkwardly before going back to talking to Tom so you decided to excuse yourself. Pete had always been awkward around you, barely acknowledging you if he didn’t have to. You made your way back across the living room towards Carole and Goose.

“Here comes trouble,” you heard Goose say jokingly and you hit his arm lightly.

“Soooo… how’s Tom?” Carole asked, biting her lip flirtatiously.

You laughed dryly, “Tom’s fine and so is Pete.”

“You spoke to Pete?” Carole asked, shocked. She knew your feelings towards Pete and she also knew how he never spoke to you.

“Barley, I was lucky to just about get a hello.” You sighed, swigging the rest of your drink.

“He likes you, you know that right?” Goose chimed in and both you and Carole looked at him dumbfounded.

“What?!”

“Yeah, he really likes you. Like really, really likes you. That’s why he can’t ever talk to you.” Goose said sincerely.

“I’m sorry, you’re telling me that Pete ‘womanizer’ Mitchell can’t talk to me because he likes me. Bullshit, Goose.”

“No, it’s true. That’s the reason he can’t talk to you because he really does like you. He never liked those other women as he likes you. Just talk to him, please if not for you then for my sake. I don’t think I can stand to hear him moaning about how miserable he is without you again.” Goose stood up, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Do it for your good friend Goose.” He said, before walking over to join his fellow aviators.

“Carole, I’m feeling pretty tired. I think I’m just going to head home.” You placed your empty glass on the table before hugging Carole.

“Please don’t go yet, the party hasn’t even really started,” Carole begged but you had already made up your mind and was heading for the front door. You reached for the door handle when someone grabbed your shoulder. “Hey, where are you going?” You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was, the one person you just needed to get away from right now. You turned slowly and your eyes met Pete’s green ones, confusion written across his face.

“I was just going to head home, I’m pretty tired.” You shrugged his hand off your shoulder and turned to leave but he grabbed your hand. You huffed in frustration and turned to him. “What do you want, Pete?”

“I… well the party hasn’t even really begun and I…” he trailed off, unable to find a valid excuse but you could see the conflict in his eyes. Pete opened his mouth again but was cut off by Goose’s loud shout across the room.

“GREAT BALLS OF FIRE! They have to kiss!” You both turned to look at Goose, who was frantically pointing at the ceiling above your head. Looking up, you saw a small sprig of mistletoe pinned above your head. You gulped audibly, trying to avoid meeting Pete’s eyes. The whole room was now looking at you and you could see Tom watching too, hurt evident on his face but he was doing his best to mask it. Pete looked just as worried as you did and backed away slightly, holding up his hands. “We don’t have to,” he began but Goose rushed over with Carole close behind.

“No. No no no no. This is a Christmas tradition and I am not about to let you two love birds break it. Now come on. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.” He began chanting and soon everyone else joined in. Your face was burning and you knew it must be bright red. Pete didn’t look any less embarrassed and he had a job to meet your eyes. Your blood was boiling, how could you have been so stupid to stop right in the doorway, if you’d have just left it wouldn’t have happened.

“May I?” You had been so caught up in your own thoughts, you hadn’t noticed that Pete had taken a step towards you and was now holding onto your hips. You froze. Was he really asking to kiss you? Pete Mitchell wanted to kiss you.

“Yes,” you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear but his eyes changed then, growing darker and full of lust. He swiftly closed the gap between you, crashing his lips into yours. You let out a muffled squeak but quickly fell into a rhythm and kissed him back. Your lips fought against Pete’s as you pulled him closer, winding your arm around his neck and tugging on his hair. He groaned and bit down on your lip, you could taste the copper in your mouth but you didn’t care. This was all you had ever wanted and nothing was going to stop you from enjoying the moment. Pete pulled your hips flush to him and you could feel how hard he was beneath his trousers. You could feel the arousal growing between your legs and you pulled at his hair again, his hand slipping around you to support your lower back and he slowly pushed you against the doorway.

“Ok. Ok break it up. We’re in public here people. Come on get a room.” Goose moved swiftly towards you, pushing you apart from one another. “Mav, what the hell came over you?” He whispered, pushing Pete out of the door and into the cool night. You looked up sheepishly at the room of onlookers, many with shocked faces, Carole was smirking in the corner. She knew exactly what she had been doing when she asked Tom to hang mistletoe above the door. Your eyes scanned the room until they found Tom, he was standing in the same spot as earlier, he looked devastated, and his eyes shone in the pale glow of the living room lights. You gave him a small apologetic smile, you’d never wanted to hurt Tom Kazansky, he was one of the sweetest men you’d ever met and if it hadn’t been for Pete you’d have been honored that he wanted you. Tom nodded at you and you took that as your sign to leave, hurrying out of the door and nearly bumping into Goose who was coming back in. “Remember kids, use protection.” He called after you as you disappeared arm in arm into the night.

Tag list: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @blue-aconite @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @alexxavicry @a-reader-and-a-writer @topguncortez @maggiescarborough @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @sunlightmurdock @basiccortez @airedale17 @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @callmemana @shadowolf993

[lostangelssong]

Tron: TAS - the best character

I was feeling nostalgic tonight about one of my favorite series when I was a kid. And because it's late, and I'm awake I want to talk about it. Particularly, I want to talk about Turing - my favorite character from Tron: The Animated Series.

What? You don't remember Turing? He was a recurring villain in season one and had that awesome face heel-face turn in season two, during the episodes where Tron got reprogrammed. And he was voiced by Tim Curry to make it even more awesome! How can you not remember Turing?

No one thought that much of Turing during season one, both in the show, and as far as people watching it were concerned. He was a program that was vaguely reminiscent of Dr. Wily from the Ruby-Spears Megaman cartoon, but instead of being the main villain of the season, he was kind of like the Mandarin in Season 1 of the 90s Iron Man Cartoon - before he became the big villain in season 2. Mandarin that is - not Turing. So kind of like a recurring mad scientist character who stole every scene he was in back in season 1, but they used him sparingly, both because Tim Curry was expensive, and also because the action was focused more around Jet, Tron, Clu, and all of the other good guys, like cartoons often are. (Though the behind the scenes stuff I've found said that Tim Curry was actually totally on board with being on the show and he had a lot of fun with the role).

For example, there was this one episode in Season 1, where it was the obligatory Christmas Episode (TM) that every 80s and 90s kids cartoon was contractually obligated to have. But since the cartoon was set in The Grid, that meant that programs didn't really understand Christmas. So it was this whole mess of Clu doing what he did and trying to copy the User World to make the perfect system, people saying Christmas every five seconds until it stopped sounding like a real word, and Jet, who was agonizing about whether or not he would be able to be home with his family for Christmas. And in the midst of all of this, Turing swans in to "Steal Christmas" for some nebulous reason, complete with tacky glowing accented Santa Suit, because he's a program and what else would he be wearing? He also was trying to goad Tron into stealing Christmas back, even though it was completely contradictory to his plans, because Tron was the Champion and that's what he was supposed to do.

As silly as it sounds, that honestly was my favorite season 1 episode with Turing in it. Turing had these ideas about how Tron was the Champion, and he was supposed to fight for the Users, but then would also be Very Put Out that Tron wasn't actually doing things for the programs in the system, since the system is where he actually lived, and all his stuff was there. Turing would also go back and forth about if the Users actually existed, because he had never met his, or any other User personally, and how do you prove something is real without data, or evidence to back it up? So Turing, especially Season 1 Turing, would sometimes vacillate wildly between hecking up Tron's day, because who cared about the Users (and also just being a menace), and also going on about how Tron was supposed to protect the programs in the system, and if he wasn't, then he was Doing It Wrong.

Season 1 Turing was kind of a mess. And I don't think the writers really knew what they wanted to do with him. But it was fun, and when he would show up his appearances were always memorable. Tim Curry hadn't reached the utter unhingedness of his Red Alert 3 SPACE scene, but he was doing great work all the same. Think of Mal back in Captain Planet, but dialed up more. But then came Season 2 and all that changed.

Season 2 had this arc about midway through it where another program, Asimov, who was Distinctly More Evil than Turing could ever hope to be, got ahold of Tron and reprogrammed him. Asimov was kind of like the Mr. Sinister of Tron: TAS, as he was interested in code, and what a Program's code destined them to be, or gave them the potential to do, and what could potentially happen if you tried to mix the code of two different programs together. Asimov was honestly terrifying for a kids show, but that's a rant for another day. The point is, he reprogrammed Tron into a cross between Rinzler and The Terminator, and gave this whole long monologue about Tron's code dictating this and it being Tron's destiny to reformat the system, and how this is what he was created to do. (Aside note: Asimov was voiced by Peter Fricking Cullen, playing amazingly against type. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings, but apparently not if your name is Tron.) Also, this was a three parter (the only one in the series, actually), and the first part ended on a cliffhanger, with the reveal of reprogrammed!Tron, whose circuits were glowing red. I'm sure that me, and a lot of the other kids that watched it yelled at their TVs when they saw that.

So. All hope seems lost. Tron is a bad guy. The Grid is doomed, right? Wrong. Because in the beginning of the second episode of this three part saga, Turing shows up. He is incensed. His nemesis/frenemy/most boon companion (yes, he used that descriptor) has been compromised. And while he and Tron have never seen eye to eye, that doesn't mean that he is destined to do anything like destroy the system. So Turing, who is So Extra, breaks into where Jet, Clu, and the rest of Team Good Guys are and gives an full on presentation (complete with pictures) of why they are going to rescue Tron, and how he is going to take point. This leads to a lot of arguing and shouting about how Turing even knows this is going on, and Turing being downright offended at even the hint that he is working with Asimov. There's talk of friendship, and Turing points out that neither Jet, nor any of the rest of Team Protag will be able to reprogram Tron, but Turing will be able to, since he's Just That Good. Clu seems to be gearing up to counter all of the reasons this is stupid and why it won't work (and why they can't just call Flynn and get him to fix Tron), when Tron and Asimov show up, intent on annihilating everyone. End of the second episode.

This is the part that I remind you all that this was your typical Saturday Morning Cartoon and that meant you were waiting a week for all of this to get resolved, which is an eternity when you're in the first grade.

So. The conclusion. Tron was standing there about to kill all the guys and reformat the system. Asimov is winding up to give another long villain monologue. Team Protag is very conflicted, because Tron is their friend, but he also doesn't seem to know who they are. Jet believes in himself and gives a speech about friendship. Clu tries to do the same, but it's Clu, so that doesn't really work and he ends up just telling Tron to stop being dumb, but it does give a really nice insight into his and Tron's friendship. Unfortunately, Tron is unmoved by this, and his circuits seem to start glowing even redder. And then Turing steps up. And since this is an 80s cartoon, there aren't going to be any more friendship speeches, because the writers have figured that the kids are bored with all the talking and there needs to be action. So it figures that there would be an action sequence, right? Wrong. Turing doesn't give a speech about friendship, oh no. He basically gives fricking Asimov a lecture about how if this was Tron's destiny, he would have reformatted the system a long time ago, and Asimov clearly doesn't know what he's talking about since Tron is just standing around looking redder than Turing did when he tried to steal Christmas (and yes they actually bring that up). Jet uses the distraction to throw a disc or fire a laser or something at Asimov (because again, 80s kids cartoon), and that actually does cause Asimov to retreat. Turing takes the opportunity to apologize for what he's about to do, before knocking Tron out, and then undoing Asimov's reprogramming.

Turing actually does explain (while Clu and Jet watch him very closely) that sure, he could reprogram Tron into someone that was easier to get along with, but that would make him just like Asimov, and who wants that? Tron is understandably very upset when he finally is back to his normal self, and the implications of the reprogramming and getting better from it last throughout the rest of Season 2, though Tron does mellow out a bit after he gets better from being reprogrammed. And Turing ends up as a recurring good guy after that, and while he doesn't show up in every episode, he is a more frequent presence than he was in season 1. (Though we don't really talk about the weird arc he had in season three. It was dumb, and he got better, so it's better left forgotten.)

(So @teh-kittykat - how did I do?)

[yeoldenews]

This is my 12th year posting Dear Santa letters on tumblr.

Over the last decade+ I have read more letters than I could ever count. This year alone I probably spent 50+ hours and read well over a thousand letters just to find the 50 or so I’m posting.

Publishing letters to Santa in the newspaper first became popular in the mid-1890s.

In large cities Dear Santa letters often acted as a method of getting needed clothing and supplies to impoverished children when parents might be ashamed to ask for charity. Subscribers to the newspaper could chose a child’s letter and provide the items they asked for. The most common requests were shoes and coats.

Sometimes newspapers offered prizes for the best letter (which I suspect often acted as another clandestine form of charity as the winners were often letters asking for basic clothing and school supplies.) Though these prizes could range from the ordinary (a sled or a doll) to the extravagant (a $20 gold piece or a live pony.)

Many local stores would enter children in a drawing if they mentioned the store in their letter - which on occasion would result in children hilariously name-dropping every store in town just in case.

Writing Dear Santa letters was commonly an activity done at school, often following some rough form letter. These letters are fairly easy to spot due as they often hype up what a good student the child was and include effusive praise for their teacher (who would likely see the letter before it was sent.)

Through Dear Santa letters you can see how Christmas traditions vary and evolve from place to place. Some places the presents go under the tree, others on it. Some place Santa brings the tree himself and sets it up.

Stockings were hung over the fireplace, or on the doorknob, or at the end of the bed, or by the kitchen stove.

In the Deep South fireworks are were the stocking-stuffer of choice, while fresh fruit, nuts and candy were popular everywhere.

The traditional milk & cookies left for Santa didn’t become popular until the 1930s, though that was hardly the beginning of leaving Santa something to eat. Popular choices prior to the 1930s included cake, donuts, “lunch” (it’s always lunch for some reason, never dinner), and “just help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen.”

Dear Santa letters offer a rare chance to see history unfold through the eyes of children - often in their own creatively spelled words.

1914′s “Remember the children in Belgium” becomes 1918′s “Please visit my brother in France”.

During the Great Depression the very commonly seen phrase “I know you’re poor this year too Santa” gives a glimpse into parents attempts to explain to their children why they might not be getting as much this year.

1939′s “Be careful flying over Europe” becomes 1945′s “Since the war is over you’re making bb-guns again right?”

Requests for toy flying machines become aeroplanes become fighter jets become space shuttles.

Dolls and wagons become Shirley Temple merchandise and Erector Sets become Barbies and Star Wars action figures.

But despite all these changes one thing remains clear throughout 130+ years of letters to Santa - despite the rapidly changing world around them - children have always been children.

I hope you enjoy these letters as much as I do! (All twelve years of posts are tagged “Dear Santa” if you’d like to see more than just this year’s selection.)

Hapy Holadays and Marry Crimes

[saintmeghanmarkle]

⚠️ [RECAP] Meghan at Uvalde, Texas on 26th May 2022 after the Robb Elementary school mass shooting. A Master Post including Thomas Markle's stroke

A Sinner asked for some references for why Meghan's pap walk in the immediate aftermath of the Uvalde school shooting and why it is still considered unforgivable by so many Sinners.

I went to look for a source post but its is scattered all over this sub, twitter (X) and the internet. So I thought I would create a master post for future reference. Please note that I wasn't on the ground that day and don't know have first hand knowledge. We had two Sinners (Feisty_Nurse and BubbleGum_Yum_Yum) who were on the ground and I have included their relevant comments. Both Sinners are considered to be credible to me. I will share their comments of their experience here.

There are follow on posts from Sinners which I will share. You will need to read them for full context.

... means that a portion of text is used and click on the link for full context

Those who can and want to support the Children in Texas, this is org is recommended by BGYY Texans Care for Children website link.

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The Uvalde school shooting occurred on the 24th of May 2022 at an elementary school. The gunman, Salvador Ramos, killed 19 children, 2 teachers and injured 18 others. Robb Elementary School would have had children who are primarily from the ages of 4 to 10 years of age. [Wikipedia source for school shooting].

Photo 1: Regular people paying their respects at the school

On the same day (24th May), it was reported that Thomas Markle Sr suffered a major stroke days before he was about to fly to London for the Queen's Jubilee. [Dailymail archive link]. The trip to London was meant to be a big deal. He was going to be on GBNews and hang out with Lady C.

Photo 2: Thomas Markle Sr rushed in hospital after stroke. Photo taken by Backgrid

Meghan flew to Uvalde on a private jet, Texas 2 days after the shooting on the 26th of May. Here are the highlights of the photographs released and an attempt to hitch her PR to a national tragedy.

The photos below went viral globally in the immediate aftermath of the Uvalde shooting.

Photo 3: Taken by Chandan Khanna (AFP)

This photo of the visit to the community centre was provided directly to Buzzfeed by Meghan [Buzzfeed article] | [Archive link]

Photo 4: Meghan attends a community centre with vending machine sandwiches and Dorito chips / crisps

The Sussex Squad promoted World Central Kitchen (WCK) and they were the top donor to WCK to celebrate Archie and Lili's birthday. https://donate.wck.org/team/425216. credit: Aware-Impression8527. There were tweets about $100k raised to celebrate Lili's birthday. There was a mixup that Meghan also funded WCK at Uvalde from the Sussex Squad. This is because the Squad's $100k Lili donation was confused with the Uvalde attendance of Meghan. eg. this Scobie tweet on the 6th of June 2022.

I remember the squad saying that THIS stall was set up by Meghan to provide food to Uvalde. But in reality it was pre-made sandwiches and Doritos.

Photo 5: WCK kitchen in Uvalde not funded by Archewell

Archewell Partners was released and confirmed that WCK was a partner and that that money was donated to WCK for meals in Haiti. credit BuildTheHerd [Source Post]

Photo 6: From BuildTheHerd post

CONTEXT MATTERS

What many people didn't realise is that Meghan was living her Pretty Woman fantasy during the Santa Barbara Polo match just a few days before this crass PR tactic. Remember that young polo player refusing to share his award with her? It was just us Sinners and the sugars who were watching these events unfold more closely. What's worse is that she went back to grifting at the Polo club immediately after the Uvalde stunt and didn't rush to Mexico to see her father. Here's the colour swatches of Meghan before and after Uvalde. It shows that she body glazed specifically for Uvalde like it was a red carpet event. [Source Post]

Photo 7: Her shade of bronzer is particularly striking as her skin is darker in the sun than in the shade.

Thomas Markle Sr, aged 77, suffered a stroke and was a mere 54 miles from Uvalde and a 4 hour drive from Montecito. She was happy to fly on a private jet to publicly show sympathy for dead kids but didn't show the same level of concern towards her dying father. [Full context, this Leilani of Barbados opinion post.]

______________________________________________________________

Soon after social media was divided about the incident and a lot of the focus was diverted to Meghan's stunt instead of the victims. Many pointed to the similarities between this incident and Catherine paying tribute to Sarah Everard. I dont think these incidents are the same thing as Kate was not captured by the media and was only recognised by those who saw her up close in the crowd [source post video] credit RoohsMama

Photo 8: Meghan turning around to watch the photographing capturing her flowers on the cross

When you search for "Meghan Markle at Uvalde". You are most likely to see this video. Post source video by -ellen-degenerate-. In this version, the posing for photographers and the her photographers following after she leaves is not visible. There were photographers in the area, but Meghan brought her own photography team. This was confirmed after the pic from the community centre was exclusive to Buzzfeed and Sinners on the ground.

This VIDEO shows raw footage of 3 photographers capturing Meghan at the scene (source: NBC News: Meghan Markle Pays Respects At Scene Of Texas School Shooting YouTube).

Pay close attention to this NBC video as you can see the photographers snapping pics of her and how she poses. The photographs from these 3 photographers is what ends up getting circulated amongst the press. Note that this was 2 days after the tragedy. Bigger celebs like Matthew McConaughey turned up much later and the visit was not publicised.

Video 1 - NBC video, photographers following her

Here you can see the female photographer with the mask goes into the photograph the Meghan's flowers and Meghan cannot resist turning back to watch her taking the photo. You can also see Chandan Khanna capturing her laying the flowers at the beginning of the clip.

Video 2: close up of photographers capturing her

Carolyn Durand, Finding Freedom co-author tweets about Meghan's visit to Uvalde with the high res pics from the photographers

Photo 9: Look at the names of the photographers credited in the tweet

Shutterstock also tweets about Meghan's visit a few hours later and tags Kensington Royal

Photo 10: Shutterstock photo

These are the photographs from the 3 photographers from different agencies: Jae C Hong / Yasin Ozturk / Chandan Khanna. Credit Yahoo News | archive Even this article is disgusting because it talks about the couples impending travel to celebrate the Queen's Jubilee rather than discussions around the tragedy.

Photo 11: Jae C Hong photo (AP)

Photo 12: Yasin Ozturk photo (Anadolu Agency)

Photo 13: Chandan Khanna photo (AFP)

So by this point even casual on lookers were disgusted by her behaviour, especially in the context that her father was in hospital after a stroke.

Then came the leaks from the Sinners who were Boots on the Ground...

Brief highlights from from Feisty_Nurse post [Read About that Uvalde visit... Full post here]. Posted on 28th September, 2 days after Meghan's visit. So the crisps / chips weren't even from her.

I was visiting recently with one of the other nurses who also went to Uvalde, Texas following the school shootings. ..... I was busy staffing a shift at Uvalde Memorial Hospital on May 27th when I heard the narcissist of Montecito👸came in with her bodyguard, photographer, and the Netflix crew. ..... The Texas Highway Patrol providing security at the hospital escorted Meangan and her troupe out, with the suggestion that if she wanted to help? Go donate blood with directions to the senior center. Onward, the circus went to Robb Elementary so photos could be taken of Meangan in mourning.😢 Uvalde is a small community with a strong sense of family. So here she was, in the midst of the most horrific thing that could ever happen. An ego profiteer.😁 .... When in reality? There were no trays of sandwiches from H-E-B (grocery store). Just three small vending machine sandwiches that were tossed out. The drinks and chips were all courtesy of South Texas Blood❣️ for their donors. I know, I get the Doritos nacho cheese.

Highlighted comments from Bubblegum_yum_yum can be found in "The backlash is growing, so the BuzzFeed article about Meghan’s visit to Uvalde was edited" [RoohsMama post]

As a member of the media, I must say: SHE DID NOT AVOID THE MEDIA. THE MEDIA AVOIDED HER BECAUSE WE ARE NOT HERE TO TAKE PHOTOGRAPHS OF HER AND WRITE ARTICLES ABOUT HOW SHE BROUGHT CHIPS TO A COMMUNITY CENTER AND FLOWERS TO ONLY ONE OF THE CROSSES. She laid flowers at the “youngest victim” for clout She could have - and should have - laid flowers at every single cross. She can afford it. The role of the media is not to document unaffiliated people flying in for photo ops. Our role here is to tell the stories of the children whose stories will never be complete because they were tragically and disgustingly killed at 8, 9, 10 years old. ....

more comments from BGYY "She just kind of walked in with her crew ...." [HillyBeans post]

Yes. She did. I’m here as part of a press team and this entitled brat shows up with a team of several people and is trying to make it a godd*** spectacle! A Texas Ranger told her team to fuck off because it’s the site of a literal massacre, not a celebrity photo op I’m going to be very frank because this situation is extremely real and raw and beyond what words can describe: It’s time for HER to ask EVERYONE HERE if they’re okay! Don’t bring them chips and shitty sandwiches and show up with an entire media crew here for YOU and not for actual media coverage of what is happening! She’s also fucking it up for us actual reporters on the scene. There are such strict protocols and the relationship between the media and officials is predicated on such a fine line that having a fucking unauthorized media crew show up sets every other journalist back! ....

After the pap walk it was revealed that Meghan wrote a letter to Moms Demand Action and it was shared on social media by Shannon Watts

Photo 14: Meghan's letter to Moms Demand Action

The Archewell Foundation also funded a new KABOOM! playground in Uvalde in October 2022.

“It has been an honor to support the children and families in Uvalde design and build this amazing space where the community can come together,” said James Holt, Executive Director of Archewell Foundation, in a statement. “Our hope is that this special project can help the community heal, and be home to imagination, games and play for many years to come.”

Kaboom still organises fundraisers giving shoutouts to the Sussex Squad like on 4th May 2023 https://x.com/kaboom/status/1654206812587974656

Photo 15: Archewell funded Kaboom playground see their logo

Master Post link

author: Negative_Difference4

submitted: September 10, 2024 at 07:34AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

[frostcorpsclub]

I’ve been thinking on Suzy and Virginia’s “call me maybe”-esque makeover scenes and songs! Inspired by @cornerofhell

Virginia

This would be the day of her and Santa’s wedding. Nothing was as set in stone as it would be in this moment and Virginia didn’t really have a choice of what she would wear, she got some input but the E.S.O took care of most of it. The song of choice is-

Song 2 by Blur-

you all may know it as the “WOO HOO!” song, lmao. It was written as satire on pop music of the day and many of the lyrics, I feel, relate to the feeling of drugs and addiction that comes with fame. For Virginia, the grandiosity of it is also a symbol of the new power she’s coming in to despite the lack of control.

She stands in front of the mirror in her own clothes for the last time that day and takes a bump off of her coke nail, the first few strums of the guitar play and has the powder goes up her nose we break out in to-

“I got my head checked

By a jumbo jet

It wasn't easy

But nothing is

No”

The rock guitar and drums kick back in, the elven satanic order enter the room and begin to dress her in her norse costume. The camera is cut quickly and everything happens at double speed. Only through it all, her face is still and facing forward, unchanging through it all.

“When I feel heavy metal

(Woo-hoo) And I'm pins and I'm needles

(Woo-hoo) Well, I lie and I'm easy

All of the time but I'm never sure why I need you

Pleased to meet you.”

As things come to a close and she’s finally all cleaned up and new they leave her alone once more, the-

“Yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah

Oh, yeah”

-of the ending hyping her up to go out there and bind her body, soul, and being to a man she loves but is certain she’s scared of in front of a million demons.

Suzy

The song is Suzy Snowflake by Rosemary Clooney, was there ever any doubt???

Now, this is after the kidnapping, transformation, her first human meal, all of it. Jack has gotten her all of her old clothes from her room, her makeup and jewelry too. She just got done putting on a fashion show for him which the audience would only see the beginning of as it very quickly descends in to…the opposite of a fashion show if you get what I mean. It’s the least she can do to thank him for making sure she can have a little bit more of her familiar life style.

The scene takes place a little later once they’ve finished and Suzy is about to sit down in front of the mirror when Jack stops her, telling her he has another special gift for her.

“I want to see you in it when I’m back doll, since your little show got cut short.”

He says he has to run so he leaves her with this big white box. She gets down on her knees and slowly begins to open it, cue music.

“Here comes Suzy Snowflake

Dressed in a snow-white gown

Tap, tap, tappin' at your windowpane

To tell you she's in town”

She opens the box and inside is a long white sweater dress, white furry heeled boots, and an expensive fur coat.

“Here comes Suzy Snowflake

Soon you will hear her say

Come out ev'ryone and play with me

I haven't long to stay”

With an almost uncharacteristic jubilation she gets up and begins to put it all on until for the first time she’s in the full “Suzy Snowflake” get up. She loves the way the fur feels on her skin, she’s missed the feeling of high heels, the coat flows out like an extravagant cape as she spins around in it.

“If you want to make a snowman

I'll help you make one, one, two, three

If you want to take a sleigh ride-“

Suzy looks at herself in the mirror, for the first time since she was turned she really takes a look at her new face. Everything feels…right. Suzy studies her hands, clawed and covered in thick frostbite. She smiles wide, her jaw unhinging and ripping her cheeks, but she does not feel pain. It’s like her body was always meant to do it. She feels more beautiful than ever.

“-Whee! The rides on me!”

She closes her eyes and begins to imagine what she can do now that she’s truly free. We flash between images of her being splashed with blood, in an almost cinematic sense like it’s being thrown on her with a bucket, images of her cutting away at something small and beneath her, images of her beginning to pull up viscera and stuffing her face with it. The song starts to repeat its I guess chorus?

“Here comes Suzy Snowflake

Look at her tumblin' down

Bringing joy to ev'ry girl and boy

Suzy's come to town.

Here comes Suzy Snowflake

Dressed in a snow-white gown

Tap, tap, tappin' at your windowpane

To tell you she's in town.”

It’s clear that some time has passed in her state of euphoria and as the song begins to fade out Jack returns. She can sense that he’s returned with her budding cryoscience and runs out to greet him. As the song slowly fades out with an instrumental peak she grabs his hand and says something to him the music drowns out, leading him out of the door.

It’s safe to assume she likes his gift and wants to take it for a spin.

[taylorrepdetective]

You’ve been spot on with everything so far, including her jet being tracked like the NORAD Santa tracker, so any guesses for what transpires post Super Bowl?

I said it was pretty obvious, and it was.

Well, we’re entering a transition phase, so I would never say I can guess anything very far in advance. But similarly to how it all became really clear in November where things were going, I feel like I can make a pretty good guess at what I think we’ll see next. The main caveat being that she is unpredictable and there are a million things I can’t know. But I think we have seen that her and his schedules are easy to see and are set in stone, so it makes predicting things easier that it was from say 2019-early 2023. And none of the below is mind blowingly novel. This is exactly what everyone expects to happen:

I think most likely after he takes a week or so✅, he’ll head to her shows in Australia✅. Probably Sydney✅ for a couple of shows. Then he’ll head home to his offseason routine✅, whatever that looks like. He’s gotta go find those abs with his trainer and shoot some commercials etc. Then she’ll be back and I think she’ll join him wherever that is✅ (possibly Florida with his trainer, that idea was already put out into the universe.) Her next tour break will be their first opportunity to really spend a lot of time together while they’re both off✅. So her jet will park where he is and they’ll make occasional appearances there. He will also probably be seen in her spots (NYC, Nash, LA✅.) Then she’s off to Europe and his offseason/preseason work begins in full. I don’t think she has any real time off at all during the Europe leg so she probably won’t come home but I think he’ll head over there for a couple of shows, probably early on✅. If he’s allowed with camp and stuff he may try to make it to a London✅ show, an important market for him to be seen in (for his post football A-list movie star future or whatever it is he has in mind.). But I’m not sure it can be swung. Then she’s off again in time for his early games, but then she’s back on the road again and he’ll probably have a bye week where he can go to a show. And then she’s done with tour just in time for her birthday, the holidays and the road to the playoffs/playoffs and engagement season. So really great timing all around. Then it’ll be time for TS11 full of songs everyone will attribute to him, and joe and maybe a bit of Matty. I’m really looking forward to a song about how Travis is a love that is really something, not the idea of something. And maybe he’ll retire. But that is so far away. Look at what happened unexpectedly in the last year. So no bets here, just stating obvious thinking. And even if all this does happen, there will be other things I can’t predict.

Alternatively, if their goal is to end it sooner, that April to June timeframe is probably the best time. After they’ve spent quiet time together and found they have nothing to talk about and then their busy schedules make it too hard. That gives enough time to make it feel plausible that it wasn’t fake and only going to last until the SB. But I think they’ll give it another season, because it’s working so well and all the timing for her tour lines up super well. And it’s clear that for whatever reason, she’s allergic to being single.