#guh. they can barely stand each other normally but in this moment they are just filled with the very human need to hold and be held im huogh

[pyrotechnicdarts]

(wip) top 10 podcast scenes that fuck you up

[johannstutt413]

(requested by calligomiles)

“Hey, General, can you try something for me?” Gummy came home one day with a box from the kitchen. “My friend made a cake, and it’s really good, so I brought you a piece.”

“Huh. Thanks, Rada.” Zima took the box and the fork the chef provided and popped it open. Inside was a rather...strange-looking slice of cake. The form itself was essentially perfect - two layers of cake with some strawberry jam or something like it gluing them together and evenly frosted along the outside - but the deep shade of purple on everything was rather disorienting. What flavors were the components supposed to be? Were the black flecks in the cake itself fruit or chocolate? Nothing in Ursus, or even Rhodes Island, looked like this…

Still, she knew better than to take appearances at face value, and if her gourmand friend thought it was good, who was she to refuse trying it? Sonya stabbed into it, pulled off the front corner, and took the bi- WHOA. “Your friend made this?” She asked, coping with the rapturous delight with her usual composure.

“Yeah! Do you like it?” Gummy came back from putting away her vaul- shield and fighting pan, but as soon as she did, she knew the answer. “I’ve watched her cook, and I don’t know how she does it. It’s like nothing else, right?”

“...I want to meet her. Who is she?”

Rada smiled, but it was rather strained. “Um, well, I think you’ve probably heard of her...Blue Poison, the Sniper?”

“The toxicologist?” Zima looked at the fork in her hand and swallowed. Hard. “She bakes?”

“Yeah, and she’s really sweet as a person, too. I don’t get why people are so scared of her...well, I guess there’s rumors that go around, but they aren’t true.”

The general thought about what she’d heard, for the first time from a critical perspective - that her saliva was a critical component in her darts’ poison, that she coated anything she touched in toxins that could kill a person in moments, that she asked people to touch her so she could eliminate her competition and finally be with the Doctor...and realized just how much bullshit she’d accidentally swallowed without thinking about it. “They couldn’t be, and even if they were, I’m sure the baking takes care of any lingering toxins. I want you to introduce us - invite her over for dinner or something before the end of the week.”

“Yes, General!” Rada’s smile brightened; she loved when she got orders she was going to act on anyway. “If she’s free tomorrow, would that be too soon?”

“No, if she’s free, that should be fine. Thank you, Rada.”

The chef saluted her. “Конечно, товарищ генерал!”

“...Is this whole slice for me?” Zima looked at the rest of it, wondering if Anna or Rosalind might want some. “There’s enough to split.”

“As you wish, General! I’ll go ask them.” With that, Gummy went off, leaving Sonya to her thoughts...and another bite of the cake. It was given to her first, after all.

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

Blue Poison sighed, watching the dessert table with the normal degree of disappointment. Usually, only two or three portions were taken from her contributions - those being the Doctor’s, Gummy’s, and Glaucus’ - which meant she often had leftovers, and it always made her dream of the days her cakes barely lasted half an hour after she made them. One of a few things she missed from home, if she was honest, but there was no point in thinking of going back there…

There was a tap on her shoulder, and she jumped. “Oh, Gummy. Sorry, I was just...thinking. Do you need something?”

“I took a piece of your cake to my friends like I said, and they all loved it! Leto and Istina had to go on a mission, but the General and I were wondering if you’d like to eat dinner with us tonight. I’m making waffles!”

“Waffles for dinner?” The Anura smiled; Gummy had a way of making that happen. “That sounds delightful. What time are you expecting me?”

She shrugged. “I’ll start cooking 1800ish? But really any time after work is fine; if you come earlier, it’s just more time for us to hang out!”

“I think I’ll head over after I change out of this...Have I met ‘the General’ before?”

“I don’t think so.” The Ursus replied. “I’m pretty sure she’d remember meeting you.”

Blue raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

“You remind me of her favorite UFC fighter, so I think you’d stick in her mind pretty easily. Oh, actually, I also came back here for some scones. Gotta run, talk to you tonight!” And there she went.

“Hmm...Dinner with Gummy and her friend.” The Anura looked at her muffin tin before nodding to herself. “I know just what to bring.”

A few hours later, after helping with dinner and heading to her room for a change of clothes, Blue Poison found the USSGG’s suite and knocked. A bright Ursan voice called from beyond it, “I’ll be right there!” Sure enough, Rada was less than a minute later. “Hi, Blue! I’m glad you showed up sooner rather than later~”

“It’s been awhile since someone’s invited me somewhere, so I got kind of excited. Is your General-”

“Hey, Rada, is she-” Zima emerged from the back room, already in her pajamas, and standing in the doorway across from her was one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen. “...Evening.”

Blue waved with her fingers, as there was a tray of cupcakes in her arms. “Good evening. I hope I’m not overdressed.”

“Oh, it’s fine! The General doesn’t really have anything else that’s really casual-”

“Rada, could you take the cupcakes to the table for her?” Sonya, in spite of herself, was blushing from the combination of awe and embarrassment. “Do you want something to drink, Miss Blue?”

She nodded. “Water will be fine, General.”

“You can call me Sonya; I’ve told Rada she doesn’t have to call me that anymore, but she insists.”

“You’ll always be my General, General!” Gummy sing-songed. “I’ll get the drinks; feel free to sit anywhere, Blue!”

After standing awkwardly for a moment, the Anura sat on the couch. “Thank you. My friends called me Azure back home, if we’re using first names here.”

“Azure, huh? That’s a pretty...cool name.” For some reason, Zima found herself leaning into the tough girl persona she’d perfected in her school days. Maybe once dinner started, she could let it drop.

“Thank you.” Now they were both blushing. “Sonya is, too. Gum- Rada said you liked my cake?”

Thank God, something to talk about. “I’ve never had something so sweet that tasted so natural. Most of the desserts we had back home were just fruit, but chocolate and strawberry together was something I’ve never tried. I’m glad you brought more with you.”

“Guests usually made dessert for the evening where I’m from. It’s how I learned to bake as well as I did.”

“I imagine so,” she agreed. “You seem like someone who’d have a lot of friends.”

Azure sighed. “I did, but...some things happened.”

“Ah...” Shit, she’d made it awkward.

“I have water!” Gummy emerged from the kitchen with glasses for each of them. “Oh, and something a bit stronger, too, just in case!”

The general blinked. “Rada, isn’t that the vodka Natalya got you for your birthday?”

“Yep! I thought tonight was as good a night as any to try it, don’t you think?”

“Vodka?” The Anura looked from one Ursus to the other. “That’s a popular Ursan alcohol, yes? I’ve never tried it before.”

The chef set the tray she was holding down, opened the bottle, and poured each of them a shot. “Yep! It doesn’t do a lot for us, but apparently other people think it’s really strong!”

“Interesting...Cheers.” They clinked shot glasses, and Blue drank it like a normal drink - which meant she very quickly started coughing.

“Are you okay, Azure?” The name really did roll off her tongue...hmm. Come to think of it, didn’t Anura have- No, brain, not the time to think about that. “The idea is to get it as far back into your throat as possible so it burns less.”

She nodded, downing half a cup of water soon after. “Guh~ I’ll know for the next one.”

“You want another?” Gummy cocked her head, already filling another round.

“I do.” Azure lightly slapped her face on both sides. “But only one more.”

Clink! Round 2 went down much better, although she immediately felt it as Rada went back to the kitchen to start cooking. Zima noticed when she picked up her water and was visibly shaking. “Feeling okay?”

“Mmhmm. Just a little woozy...”

“Alright. Let me know if that changes.” The general stretched her arms above her head and yawned. “So uh...” Damn, what to talk about?

Blue was already two steps ahead, apparently. “Gummy told me that I look like your favorite fighter. ‘Zat true?”

“She said that? I don’t think so; your hair’s similar, but outside of that, not seeing a resemblance.”

“Aww.” The Anura pouted. “That’s a shame. I thought you’d think I was cute.”

...Sonya only had one response to that. “I never said you weren’t; you just don’t look like Jolanta.”

“So you think I’m cute?” Azure leaned towards her, holding herself up with her arms and tilting her head to one side. It definitely looked like a frog poised to jump.

“Yeah?” Sticking to her guns. “I like your pigtails.”

She giggled. “Thanks~ You’re pretty cute, too.”

“Well, that’s a first.”

“Whaaaat?” As it turned out, Blue held alcohol about as well as a sponge as it’s being squeezed. “Your girlfriend hasn’t told you that before?”

Sonya shook her head. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Oh...Does that mean you’re single~”

“I’m not dating anyone.” The Anura hopped towards her. “Azure, what are you doing?”

More giggling. “Your voice cracked.”

“Hey, do you guys want your waffles thick and fluffy or flat and crispy?”

“Flat!” Both called back in unison. Blue hopped forward again, now only a cushion away. “Just like us~”

Zima sighed. “Look, Azure, you seem nice and all, but I’ve known you like five minutes, so slow your roll.”

“You don’t like me?”

“What? No, I do, I just think this isn’t the way to start.” The Anura retreated, hopping backwards. “Azure...Come back.”

She did. “I just want a hug~ Is that too much?”

“No, a hug is fine.” The Ursus stood up, and Blue leaped to her feet and into her arms.

“Yay.” Azure rested her head against Sonya’s shoulder. “You didn’t ask if I was gonna poison you~”

Zima smirked. “I know that’s a bunch of bullshit.”

“You do?” Her arms settled a little lower along the general’s back.

“It’s obvious you wouldn’t.” One of the Ursus’ hands found its way to Blue’s hair. “You’re not the type to endanger your friends like that.”

Azure nodded. “I’m not...You’re so sweet, Sonya~”

“I’m just being honest with you.”

“Yeah, but...” A tear found its way to Zima’s shoulder. “I miss having friends to hug.”

The general patted the back of her head. “Well, you know where to find us. Rada’s a hugger, too.”

“Mmm. You’re willing to share?”

“I-” The approval caught in her throat. “I...hmm.”

Blue’s eyes, still a bit watery, lit up at the hesitation. “Is that a no?”

“...Maybe. You don’t mind, do you?” She smelled the way a candle called ‘birthday cake’ would, somehow.

“One’s enough for me.” The Anura pulled back to look her in the eye. “Sonya...”

The Ursus smiled back at her. “Yes, Azure?”

“Waffles are ready!” Gummy called from the kitchen.

“...I’ll tell you after dinner.” She poked her nose with a finger. “Shall we?”

Zima let go of the embrace, but immediately after doing so she took her hand and led her to the dining room, both smiling more brightly than they had since arriving at Rhodes Island.

[creaturedom]

Night In

Oh my god, I don’t know what just possessed me but I sprung out of bed a little while ago and started to write like mad. Time to jump on my Good Omens bullshit again, lets GOOOO

———————————————————————

Crowley really couldn’t stand nights like this. Six thousand years in this nonsense, and no one could think to change the rule of no miracles for weather change? Not even to crank the heat up, just a smidge? The year was 1591, cobblestone and wood braced homes lining the streets almost as thickly as the smell of manure in the air. Each detail in the city was modestly thought out and the citizens seemed to thrive well enough, but the most the humans thought to create by now was small, cramped fireplaces for cooking stews and perhaps an extra wool blanket. Certainly never bode well for the winter, and it felt like Crowley was suffering the worst from it.

The demon cursed softly to himself as he wrapped the large blanket around his frame even tighter, staring at the flame that burned so weak below the cauldron. It was bubbling away with whatever he had managed to find earlier that day, he wasn’t paying attention much as a throbbing in his skull had managed to distract him all day. Worse still the first snow had fallen no more than a week ago, and the city was already buried deep in it, just about below the demon’s knee. Everything was damp, frozen solid, a few had even managed to be plucked off the earth before the worst of it, but Crowley..

“Hiih’tSCHHuuh!” No, he was convinced he’d caught the worst of it. With an exhausted sniff he leaned a bit closer, long wavy hair spilling over his shoulders as he shifted and tired yellow eyes staring, unblinking, as if he were trying to catch the fire doing something scandalous. But, it did nothing except flicker lazily in front of him while he managed a smile. “Heh, what, no obnoxious blessing..?” A shaking hand clenched the inside of the blanket as his head snapped back again, shuttering with the powerful release “Hih’PTSCHh! If ya don’t b-bless- GTSCHXXX! Guh, the demons’ll come for me, that’s the rules...” He chuckled, taking a moment to rub his eyes “And Hell knows how I’d hate to see one of their ugly mugs right about now...”

Then, much to his horror, a knock came at the door. As far as he knew there wasn’t supposed to be another randevous for another month, but then again he couldn’t even tell what day it was anymore. As he sat there gawking another knock came at the door, this time more rhythmically as it waited for someone to respond. “C... Coming.”

Crowley winced at the strained delivery, but it was the best he could manage to offer at the moment. Wrapping himself tight as if frightened he would fall apart otherwise the demon rose unsteadily to his feet and stumbled to the door, taking a moment to put on a small pair of rounded glasses he kept near the door before opening it with the usual smirk. Though this time, he found the smirk faultering to that of a more relieved if not shocked expression.

Standing before him was Aziraphale himself, smiling just as brightly as ever despite the snow that clung to his white garb and curly hair. His nose and cheeks were a bit pink, but other than that he looked as cheerful as ever; a welcome sight compared to what the demon braced himself for “Good evening Crowley! Do forgive me for the hour, but, well,” bashfully a basket was raised between the two, “I thought we could celebrate our last- erm... Collaboration, of sorts! You really helped me out of a jam taking that last assignment, and uh, I just, ah...”

Aziraphale must have known how easily he could make the demon smile, even on a miserable night like this. The glasses has slid down the bridge of his nose just enough so he could get a better look at the other and stare in a haze. It was disappointing he couldn’t smell what was wafting up, but he could feel the heat radiating off the basket, something that sent a shiver through his body just thinking about. “Well, I’ve got some stew on the fire, if you’d like ta come in...” Crowley’s smile grew more toothy as the angel seemed to snap back to attention and nodded eagerly “Yes! Ah- not that I came just for supper, honest, this is just a thank you mission!”

“And thank you indeed..” Crowley’s nose wrinkled playfully, but this proved to be a poor decision. His eyes began to flutter and with a warning finger he barely managed to turn away to muffle a wet sneeze into the itchy blanket “HhmMPCHhht!”

Aziraphale flinched at the sudden outburst and squawked “Bless you-!” Before realizing too late the mistake “A-AngehhITSCHHhhuh! Mother f-fuck- gHTSchh! Hah’TSCHhh!!” He could feel it, he could feel one more teasing in there, but it was determined to linger despite the exasperated sigh and the mess Crowley could feel against the blanket “My goodness, b— uhhh, that... Sounded terrible?”

Crowley glanced up tearily, unsure if he should have been so amused by the statement. “Thank you, been practicing all morning...” He walked back inside with the angel close on his heels and slumped back into the stool in front of the fire, his frame quivering with a passing shiver “Hah, not the most gracious invitation, ey?”

“Crowley...” Aziraphale came closer to place the basket at his side and kneel in front of him. His hand reached up, but hesitated, round eyes looking unsure at the demon. Crowley wasn’t quick to respond, but then again things were starting to get a little fuzzy on his end. He took off the glasses to look at the other and nod softly, which earned him a soft and surprisingly cool palm against his forehead, and then his cheek. The cold felt horrid, but with something as soft as Aziraphale’s hand to accompany it, he found himself leaning fully in with a low groan. “Crowley, you’re burning up, is this a normal temperature for a demon..?”

“Mm, maybe for some, but I always tended to run colder than most...” He tried to throw in a tired grin, but the look on the angel’s face made his heart sink “Oh dear, you’re really doing awful then, aren’t you? You should have sent word, I could have brought a doctor, maybe some proper food-”

“Why would I go do a thing like that..?”

“Because that’s what friends do for one another!”

Crowley stammered a minute, brow furrowing as he tried to collect his words “Just last week you told some idiot we weren’t friends, what do you mean by that?”

“Oh come now, I’m not about to say it in the streets, you know we can’t.”

“And why not?” There was a pause there, a look as if to ask Crowley whether or not he seriously couldn’t remember their terms “Humans don’t know. They don’t know any part of where we come from, who we are, we’re passing faces. So why can’t we say we’re friends outside, hm..? Why...” his eyes screwed shut again, the blanket raising with a sharp gasp, only to lower with a defeated sigh “Why can’t we just... Just pretend we...”

“Crowley? Crowley, hey, hold on...” the angel braced the other as he began to slump, his head now hanging low with a few soft pants. It broke Aziraphale’s heart in more ways than he could count to see the other like this, after all these years. “... I’m sorry. You’re right.” He states after a few moments “I think... I think I’m just scared. Scared one day Gabriel will see, or someone will report it, the danger it can put not only myself but... But you in. I don’t want you to get hurt Crowley, and as much as you say you can survive on your own and roll with the punches, I certainly can’t! Especially if it means I have to be alright with seeing... Seeing someone I consider quite close to myself be harmed.”

The demon raised his head a bit to look at the angel, who smiled so sincerely at him “I’m sorry I told him we weren’t friends, and if I made you feel terrible. But I care about you so much, and right now I’m greatly concerned with your health, so may I please, please guide you to the bed?” Crowley smirked wide at that, eyebrows raising suggestively “Oh, just guide..?”

Aziraphale’s face shifted from tenderness to sheer embarrassment in a matter of seconds, cheeks bright red, but eyes smiteful “Oh my, bless you, Crowley!” Oh no, that was a low blow. The dull tickle spiked to a fire filled rage and Crowley barely had time to look away, gulping desperately for air “Huuh’tshHHUuh! HAH’TSSCHhhhuh! Hih’tSCHhh- TSCHhh!” He could feel his nose dripping by the end of it, but he hardly had the energy to keep himself upright after that ordeal. Hearing muffled for a moment he could hear Aziraphale frantically saying something and rustling around, and it wasn’t really clear why until Crowley felt something soft brush against his chapped nostrils.

“I’m sorry, so sorry, you didn’t deserve that..!” Aziraphale was so tender as he wiped the mess from Crowley’s face, mindful to pull away if it felt like he was agitating the already glaring nose and keep a hand on the other to keep him steady. Truth be told, despite the room now spinning and the terrible mess that came, Crowley was still amused, and even managed a hoarse laugh. “Adgel, it’s fide, I deserved that..” He tried to insist, even after being instructed to blow into the handkerchief. What a pair the two of them made...

Crowley let Aziraphale help him into the bed, grateful he was at least in his nightgown before the other came. “I suppose I should get going, let you have some rest. I brought you a few pastries from the bakery across town, I know how much you love their goods, I can leave them on the table, and..”

“Angel..?”

“Hm?” Crowley wasn’t sure what possessed him, but he was looking blearily at the other, already curled in a tight ball and shaking with chills “Can... Can you stay, just a little longer? Please, I wouldn’t ask you under normal conditions, but I’m just... J-Just so cold...” He pressed, a small coughing fit escaping his lips. Aziraphale’s face was becoming red again, and Crowley wasn’t sure if this was a warning to another smite by blessing. But much to his surprise Aziraphale merely glanced at the window, snapped his fingers, and appeared in a nightgown of his own, his other clothes folded neatly on the table. He grabbed a spare blanket from the chest opposite of the bed and, though he hestitated once more, climbed into bed beside the demon.

He was quick to throw the blanket over the two of them, holding out his arms invitingly for the other. Crowley nearly leapt into the others arms, nestling his forehead into the crook of the angel’s neck and holding on tight as if scared he would fly away. Now closer, Aziraphale could feel the great heat radiating off of Crowley’s damp skin, the chills even shaking the angel’s body as he held the other close and began stroking his long hair soothingly “I’m here, I’m right here..” He cooed tenderly as Crowley’s teeth began to chatter “I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here..”

[xtrashmammalstefx]

You’re Drunk (Harry x Reader SMUT, The Riot Club)

Requested & Inspired by: @xcazzax

WARNING: smut, cursing, all that good stuff

I have met plenty of boys in my life but none have as relentless and utterly stupid annoying as Harry. He walked about Oxford thinking he was all high and mighty; like he owned the bloody place. He was snobby to the extreme; he and his mates. But most of all he refused time and time again to leave me the fuck alone!

“Hello darling,” he greeted leaning outside the classroom where I had a Literature class. He smiled at me that stupid ‘you know you want to fuck me’ smile. 

“Go away,” I groaned pushing passed him. 

“Oof! That’s not very polite now is it?”

“Neither is stalking girls outside their classrooms,” I said.

“It’s not stalking so much as it is me waiting for your class to end for the day so that I may take you on a proper date,” he said.

“In your dreams Harry,” I rolled my eyes.

“The wet ones especially but that’s beside the point,” he pushed on wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Come on Y/N you have to admit I’m not the only one feeling something here.”

I looked up at him and was nearly struck dumb by those bloody angelic blue eyes of his. Damn him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now if you would so kind as to remove your arm before I kick you so hard in the bollocks your precious family line will finally come to an end.”

“Is that your way of saying you love me?” he smirked.

I smiled, fighting back laughter, and rolled my eyes. “Bye Harry.”

As I walked away he hollered back. “There’s a party at the old manor this weekend.”

“And why should I care?”

“Because I’m inviting you of course!” he said. “You need not speak to me or even acknowledge me. There’s going to be plenty of booze and music for you to lose your pretty little head in.”

“If I say yes will you fuck off already?”

“If that’s what you wish, my love.”

I sighed. “Fine but you better not try anything or so help me.”

“Yeah, yeah you’ll cut my bollocks off I get it!”

Finally, the night of the party arrived. I wore a simple dress, not wanting to reveal too much, and prayed that this get together would actually be fun for me. A lot of the guests were already pretty smashed by the time I got there. I grabbed a beer from a nearby large ice bucket and looked around for a nice corner to hide in (I can’t for the life of me stand drunk people and do my best to avoid them at all costs). I was still looking when an arm snaked itself around my waist and a pair of lips pecked at my neck. 

“Hello dear,” Harry muttered. “You look absolutely ravishing tonight.”

“Harry, get off me,” I said shrugging him off. I took a swig of my beer and tried my best to ignore him. 

“What can’t a man shower the love of his life with affection?” he smiled.

“I thought you said I need not acknowledge you?” I smirked. 

“Yeah but… how long would that last eh?” he said stepping closer to me. “I know you feel it Y/N. I can sense it.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” I said as he continued to look at me seductively.

“Like how? Hm?” He was in front of me now and I could feel his breath on my face… and smell all the booze on it as well. “I’m just looking at you the way I always have… the way I always will.”

His lips pecked mine and my whole body trembled. Not with fright but with… longing. 

“Why must you do this?” I whispered.

“Do what?”

“Make me want this… want you?”

He smiled victoriously. “I knew you could feel it.”

I shook my head. “I need air,” I reached out and grabbed a couple more beers. “And loads more of these.”

I went out onto the balcony where (after another trip back to the ice bucket) I drowned my unholy desire in six beers. By the time I finished the last I could barely walk. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to make it back to my dorm room safe and sound so I stumbled my way upstairs.

“Y/N, where-uh-hic-are you guh-going?” Harry said stumbling behind me as I searched for a room not being used to shag in.

“I’m tired,” I groaned. “And there are people fucking in every-hic-single one of these bloody rooms!” 

“C-Come on dahling. Yuh-you can sleep in muh-mine,” he took my hand in his.

“No fu-fucking way Huh-Harry,” I said trying and failing to pull my hand away. “You’ve messed with me enough tuh-tonight. Se-Seducing me, muh-making me believe I actually lu-love you.”

“I duh-didn’t do anything, love,” he said opening a door at the end of the hall. “Huh-here you go,” he said gently pulling me in and closing the door behind him. “I-I’ll just tuck you in yeah?”

“Ju-Just don’t try anything,” I said holding my finger up. He pulled back the blankets on the bed and let me climb in. I sat down and immediately fell in a fit of giggles. “Holy shit!”

“Wuh-What?” Harry asked amused. 

“You’ve actually got me in bed,” I laughed which set Harry off in his own laughing fit. Sometime during my hysterical drunken laugh, my head fell onto his shoulder. I placed my hand on his other shoulder and just held him against me as I nearly died laughing. It was then I noticed a rather lovely smell coming off of him. “You smell absolutely lovely Harry.”

“Nowhere near as lovely as you do,” he said.

I smiled and continued to breathe him in bringing my face closer to the skin of his neck. Suddenly my drunken self was placing kisses on his neck.

“Wuh? What are you duh-doing?” he muttered. 

“I dunno,” I said. “Sorry. I know we shouldn’t I mean… you’re bloody drunk.”

“And you are horny for me,” he smirked.

“I buh-believe the term is love, darling,” I said kissing along his jawline and freezing almost immediately. “Shit di-did I really just say that?”

“Yeah,” he smiled brushing his nose along mine. “You did.”

His mouth was on mine before I could utter another word. I normally would’ve pushed him away but when he kissed me and when he touched me a shiver ran up my spine and made my whole body quiver. And suddenly I was hungry for him.

I kissed him back and ran my hands along his body. “God I’ve wanted you for so long,” he groaned as I did. I smiled and brought my mouth back to his. After a while, my hands lingered to the front of his body where they started to unbutton his shirt. “A-Are you sure you want us to have sex? I mean you’re drunk.”

“And you’re horny for me,” I whispered his words back to him as I slowly undid each button. He smirked and helped me with the last button shrugging off the cursed top. I turned and drew my hair to the side so that he could unzip my dress. He did so and brushed his fingers along my bare spine. He fingers then hooked onto the straps and pulled them down, and as they did he brought his lips to the skin of my neck.

“No bra?” he muttered as he peppered my neck in kisses.

“Built-in,” I giggled. I turned back and laid myself down so he could pull it off. When he did he looked down and smirked.

“No knickers?”

“Kinda had a feeling it would end like this,” I admitted. “I figured if you had to work so hard to get me to fall for you then I might as well make this part easy for you.”

“You naughty little minx,” he said bringing his mouth to mine. “I fucking love you.”

I smiled into the kisses and reached down to undo his trousers. With the button and zipper undid I reached in and wrapped my hand around his length. “JESUS FUCK!” he gasped as I started to pump him. After a while he pulled my hand away. “Keep going and I won’t last much longer.”

He then pulled his trousers off and tossed them aside. He climbed on top of me then and lined himself up with my entrance. 

“I love you Harry,” I said.

He smiled. “About time you bloody said it,” he kissed me. “I love you too.”

The words ‘my magic touch’ suddenly took on a different meaning for me since for someone who was plastered beyond help Harry was surprisingly hard. “What are you made of bloody steel or something? Fuck!” I moaned as he moved inside me.

“It’s what you do to me, love,” he said as he thrusted. 

Harry always seemed like a lad who would be into wild things in bed; toys, teasing, foreplay, rough sex, and probably revenge fucking but at that moment he was amazingly passionate and sensual. He held onto my body and I held onto his. He kissed me romantically as if he didn’t plan on kissing anyone else after that. He touched me as though I were delicate and breakable. It was brilliant.

Sometime during our lovemaking, I reached down and grabbed him by the arse. “Fuck!” he groaned. “You fucking little minx!”

I laughed leaving my hand on his well-rounded arse cheek. Suddenly my whole body began to tingle and tense up. “FU-FU-FU-FUCK! HARRY I’M GONNA!” 

My back arched, my toes curled, and I tightened around his length covering him in my juices. In all my life I’d never had such a powerful, mindblowing orgasm… and probably never will again.

Harry started to grow sloppy then until I felt him start to twitch inside me. He moaned loudly as he filled me with his cum.

Breathless, drunk, and exhausted we collapsed and passed out.

The next morning I woke up feeling shit. I groaned as a throbbing pain pounded in my skull, and another throbbing ache pulsated down in my cunt. I blinked open my eyes and looked around.

I didn’t recognize the room but I sure as fuck recognized the naked man in the bed beside me. “Oh fuck it wasn’t a bloody dream,” I groaned so sure my mind had made the previous night up. I sighed and nudged Harry awake.

He groaned. 

“Wake up you twat,” I said.

“No,” he groaned again. “Fuck off.”

“Fine then no morning shag for you,” I said. He immediately shot his head up. Looking at me like a dog who was offered the mother of all treats. “Morning.”

“Hello dear,” he leaned down and pecked my incredibly swollen lips. 

“I take it you remember last night,” I said blushing.

“Of course I do,” he whispered draping his arm over me. “We made love. You told me you loved me. And you’re a rotten liar if you deny any of it.”

I laughed. “Lucky for you I think I’m tired of denying things.”

“Good,” he said. “Because I love you and I plan on spending my life with you.”

“I love you too,” I said kissing him softly. “You annoying bastard you.”

He laughed and kissed me back. 

“God I hope somebody in this house had the bloody sense to make a strong pot of coffee because⸺.” Before I could fully climb out of bed he pulled me back.

“Hey hey now hold on a second, love,” he said climbing on top of me. “I believe you said something about a morning shag?”

Round two soon began along with the rest of our lives together.

Just me and my Harry. 

[benito-cereno]

The Further Adventures of Santa Claus, Chapter 2: The Count at the North Pole (finale)

(Chapter 1 part 1 here, part 2 here, part 3 here. You should definitely read chapter 1 first. Chapter 2 part 1 here.)

Dracula’s fangs sunk deep into the fleshy throat of the exhausted elf he had pinned against the side of a suburban home blissfully unaware that they were to be the site of the apparent death of Santa Claus. But no sooner than the vampire had begun to drink deep of Santa’s veins, he drew back in horror and revulsion.

He pulled his hand away from his hideous jaw, and into his palm dripped a streamy of not the deep, rich red he was expecting, but rather something frothy, white, and cold.

“Milk?” he shrieked in pain and confusion. “MILK???”

But Dracula’s words fell on deaf ears. His shock at the idea that cold milk ran through Santa’s veins was quickly superseded by an entirely new shock. Santa was now standing stock-still, milk gushing out of the holes in his neck like water from a fire hydrant. His knees locked and his arms were thrust straight down at his side. His eyes glowed a bright, incandescent red.

Then an unnatural voice, as if he were yelling through a tin can, blasted from his wide-open mouth, broadcasting, “SANTA DECOY ONE COMPROMISED.”

Santa’s head jerked toward Dracula in one inhuman motion. In the light of his blazing red eyes, a layer of burnished metal showed from under his rent flesh.

“SUNLIGHT BOMB ACTIVATED.”

Dracula barely had time to murmur “what” before this unsuspecting suburban subdivision was lit up like the surface of the sun. Meanwhile:

The South Pole! A tall, candy-striped pole rises high above the snow drifts! It stands as a marker to the southernmost point of this island Earth, as well as the signpost to Santa’s War Room!

Deep inside its tension-filled gingerbread halls, surrounded by gum drop monitors and peanut brittle icicles, stands an enormous snow globe containing a model of the entire planet Earth floating inside, surrounded by a flurry of white flakes. A globe within a globe. At this moment, somewhere in North America, a light begins blinking, knocking an unsuspecting elf on monitor duty out of his sugar-plum Christmas Eve reverie.

“Guh!” the elf shouted, nearly falling out of his marshmallow chair in panic.

Another elf at a switchboard made of chocolate wafers and wooden pegs leaned back and shouted at the other elf, “Tinker! What’s the matter over there?”

With the type of drama befitting only someone who has been staring fruitlessly at a snow globe for untold years, Tinker thrust his finger at the blinking light inside the globe. “Someone’s set of Santa-Bot One!”

Soon a swarm of elves from the monitor room were scrambling and running around in a panic, holding their heads in their hands. “Oh no!” “Oh gosh!” “The decoy!” “Someone call the boss!” “Call the boss!”

Tinker ran over to a phone that sat, long forgotten, under a dusty glass bell jar. The phone’s two eyes stared out over his bulbous red nose and empty smile. The nose began to glow red when Tinker removed the jar and picked up the rounded red receiver. He quickly dialed the number two on the phone’s white rotary dial. He waited for the sound of a click, then shouted into the mouthpiece, “Boss! You’d better get in here quick!”

Scarcely a moment later, a nattily dressed figure burst into the room. He was clad head to foot in black: black three-piece suit, black shirt, black tie, well-shined black shoes, black briefcase, black Bluetooth earpiece in his ear. The only thing not black on his body was his tawny brown hair, combed back slickly between his curved goat horns.

“All right, soldiers!” barked the Krampus. “What’s the sit-rep in here?”

Tinker once again pointed to the blinking light within the globe, somewhat more abashedly this time in the presence of the corporation’s number two. “Er, the Santa-Bot One decoy has activated its self-destruct mechanism, Mr. Krampus, sir. We believe it met its target, sir.”

The Krampus stroked his hairy chin and the tip of his tongue flicked out of the edges of his mouth as he thought. “Well, well, Prince Vlad. We're soon to meet again.” The suit-clad beast strode confidently down a hallway before opening a door to a darkened inner chamber, lit by a roaring fire that cast its sole inhabitant into full silhouette. “Santa, we've found the vampire.”

The figure by the fire did not even turn around as he replied, “Very well, Krampus. Fetch my horse, if you will.” Meanwhile:

Back in the suburbs, an enormous scorch mark covered the cul-de-sac full of identically-shaped and aluminum-sided homes that were once blanketed in a soft layer of snow. Next to the house that was the clear epicenter of this massive event--itself blasted with scorch marks but otherwise unharmed--stood the sputtering, charred shell of the Santa-Bot. Next to him lay the body of Dracula, black and burnt, but somehow still undead.

With a not insignificant effort, Dracula propped himself up on a skeletal elbow and coughed out soot and ash. “Kaff! Hah!” he choked. “I kaff yet live!” Despite his obvious infirmity, he began to drag his crumbling body through the snow. “And now for those two little children…”

His journey was interrupted by yet another flash of light, though this one much smaller and at some short distance away. The loud FWAAAAAASSSSHHH sound it made as it flared up caught his attention, though he had to shield his eyes before the bright blue glow. When the light dimmed and disappeared, Dracula saw in front of him a pair of feet in polished black leather shoes and impeccably tailored black pants stood in front of his prostrate form. The lord of the vampires struggled to lift his head to see whose legs blocked his path.

“YOU?!” he spat in disgust.

“Yeah,” the owner of the legs said, deliver a swift kick to Dracula’s head with such strength that it flipped him over like a vastly overcooked egg. “Me.”

Now lying helplessly on his back, Dracula could not avoid seeing in full who stood before him. In the black suit stood the Krampus, who wiped the soot from Dracula’s burnt face off his shoe before crossing his arms across his chest. Next to him was a figure imposing enough to make the great horned beast of the woods seem slight. He was draped in heavy green robes fringed with an intricate Celtic knot design. At the top of these robes, a dark hood covered a hoary head from which a long, wiry white beard hung down in a tangle. If he turned his head just right, the light struck a small square of leather covering a hole where his right eye had once been. Stitched into this patch was the rune isaz, meaning ice. His one remaining eye pierced the darkness, the cold, pale blue of a winter morning sky. In his right hand he held a long staff of gnarled wood that curled into an uneven spiral at its top. Most terrible of all, this mighty wizard, the Santa, sat astride a fearsome gray stallion, nineteen hands high, with eight legs and snorting fire.

“Gruß vom Krampus und dem Weihnachtsmann,” sneered the Krampus through a cocky, tooth-filled grin.

The soot-covered count looked up at the sorceror upon his horse, coughing out a small cloud of ash with each breath. By now a small crowd of suburbanites unused to such riff-raff in their neighborhood had begun to gather in the cul-de-sac to see what was causing such disruption of their normally quiet subdivision. “So now what, Saint of God? Will you kill me now at last?”

The Santa turned his gaze away from the vampire. “No. Not in front of the children.” He raised his staff, from which an icy blue light like the one that marked his entrance began to issue. “But elsewhere. And very soon.”

As a now familiar FWAAAAAAASSSSH resounded throughout the cul-de-sac, the nondescript American suburb faded from sight, and in its place materialized a twisted cyclopean edifice that looked like an arthritic claw reaching toward heaven in an attempt to scratch out God’s eyes.

Dracula cackled, his legs finally having regenerated enough for him to stand up. “Hah! You bring me here, to Castle Dracula, my place of power?” Finding his second wind, he lunged at the Santa, who had just dismounted from his horse and handed the reins to the Krampus. Despite the element of surprise, the wizard managed to deftly dodge the vampire’s attack, partly because it was preceded by him yelling, “You arrogant fool!”

Now enraged, Dracula leapt again in attack at the Santa, this time from behind. Again, the mage simply stepped to the side and evaded the bat’s talons, though this time the vampire managed with his swipes to rip some snatches of fabric from the hems of Santa’s robes.

With Dracula now having rushed past him, the Santa blew a small breath of cold air across the open palm of his own hand, which then became an enormous wintry blast that knocked Dracula back into the wall, leaving him pinned to the castle wall by giant icicles through his sleeves and cape.

Dracula sneered. “So the saint decides to finally show his true power, eh?”

Santa walked patiently toward the captive beast. “There is more to see yet, prince.” He drove the point of his knotted wooden crozier hard into the mildewed stone floor of the castle. A bright flash of light sparked up from where the staff struck. The next moment, the entire top of Castle Dracula was blown off by an incalculably large explosion of light and sound.

The vampire prince was shocked to see his ancestral home destroyed. The entire roof and all the upper floors that had, a moment ago, been above him, were now simply gone. He struggled in his rage, but impotently so, as he was still powerfully affixed to the wall by the Santa’s eldritch icicles. “You—you fiend. You exploded my castle.”

The Santa turned his gaze away from Dracula. “Don't worry, prince. You won't miss it long.” He pointed to the horizon, where the first sliver of sun was beginning to peek out. “The sun is rising.”

“It is, isn't it?” Dracula began to cackle again, until he got caught in a coughing fit, hacking up ash and soot again. “AH AH AH AH AH! Even in my death, I've beaten you again! Just as in our last encounter, you've been so troubled with me, you haven't completed your annual duties! The children, saint!  Won't you think of the children?”

Santa smiled grimly. “You think me such a fool that I wouldn't learn from our last encounter? Do you think the decoy you encountered was the only robot my elves built for me? You, prince, are the fool” Meanwhile, in Japan:

Santa Kurōsu happily eats Kentucky Fried Chicken with his wife over candlelight, a hogtied namahage lying next to his table, begging for a bite of chicken. Outside his rocket-powered bison sleigh idles.

Meanwhile, in France:

Père Noël unloads some escargot and baguettes from the wicker hampers on the back of his donkey, Gui, and places them in the shoes of a gently snoring family of mimes.

Meanwhile, in England:

Father Christmas descends from his home in the Northern Lights to enjoy a spot of tea with the guard outside of Buckingham Palace, who manage to drop their professional facade for just this one moment, because it’s Christmas.

Meanwhile, in Italy:

Babbo Natale and his braying donkey Dominick careen through the winding streets of Rome on a Vespa scooter, shouting expressions of love at a crowd of young women, themselves on scooters.

Meanwhile, in Finland:

Joulupukki welcomes a crowd of children to his reindeer farm, his long, goat-like beard hanging down from an irrepressible smile.

Meanwhile, in Catalonia:

The Tió de Nadal happily defecates nougat and Nintendo Switches into the welcoming hands of children whacking him with sticks.

Meanwhile, in Transylvania:

Santa stood next to the dying Dracula, who hung limply dying on the wall. In the distance, a carol rose up from the distance.

Hail the Heaven-born Prince of Peace! Hail the Sun of Righteousness! Light and life to all He brings, Risen with healing in His wings; Mild He lays His glory by Born that man no more may die Born to raise the sons of earth Born to give them second birth

“Listen to them, Vlad,” said the Santa as the sun began to rise fully over the snowy peaks of Transylvania. “Children of the light. What music they make.”

Dracula’s eyes went wide, as the source of centuries of fear, at last, knew fear himself. Silently, dispassionately, the Santa drove the sharpened tip of his crozier through Dracula’s heart. As Dracula turned to dust, he breathed his last breath: a green, bat-shaped cloud of vampire bacteria.

THE END

....OR IS IT????

*****

The child beamed, proud of her story.

The tutor was not impressed. “What.”

“What what?”

“What was that cloud of stuff flying out of Dracula's mouth at the end?”

The child explained, glad to finally be the one speaking down to a knowledgeless fool in need of instruction for a change, “It's the Dracula virus! See, to continue on with undeath even after death, the viral vampirism that caused Dracula in the first place--”

The tutor cut his student off mid-sentence. “VAMPIRISM ISN'T A VIRUS.  That is stupid!  It is enormously stupid!” He got to his feet, dumping a stack of math papers to the floor. “And Santa-Bots! Santa at the South Pole! The Krampus in a suit! Those moderately racist Santas at the end!” He grabbed at his hair as if it was the only way to anchor his sanity. “And don’t think making your story a pseudo-sequel to mine endears it in any way! This story is NON-CANONICAL.” He stormed out of the room, seemingly forgetting his grading duties or even what planet he was on. As he walked out the front door and toward his car, shouts of “NON-CANON” could be heard with each step, and, in fact, for the first several miles of his drive away.

Anyway, that’s how the child got to see the last half of the Shelfy Elf Christmas special. Mele Kalikimaka, everybody.