Locker Room Talk, Christmas! Day 10

I'd reblog it and say "Look at this bastard."

What would you do if you were scrolling through recommended tumblr posts and one was from someone you don't know and it was just a picture of your dad captioned "fucking hate this guy" and it had hundreds of notes

Goth Masc on the outside...

Goth Femme on the inside...

Shit I have been found OUT

your tumblr avatar is who you are on the outside, and your discord avatar is your true self

Libraries! ^^

Okay okay stop asking me if I'm female, male, whatever. I identify as a FUCKING THREAT

Jordan Davies, 2021

Juliette: Well, well, well... if it isn’t my old friend: the dawning realization that I fucked up bad.

Poison: Puppy...what did you do?

I'm logging out.

:dying noises: This is so cute 🥺

Just a little Holiday fluff I wrote for our favorite Sorceress! Happy Holigays, folks 😊♥️ 

****

My breath catches in my throat as soon as I enter the living room. Helena’s silhouette brilliantly outlined by the soft glow of  the fireplace. The lean muscles in her arms flexing ever so slightly as she meticulously places ornaments upon our first Christmas tree. My heart warms at the sight of it, and I can’t help the fond smile that rises to my lips. Long strips of moonlit hair cascading over her focused eyes with each ornament that goes up. A master at everything she does, I had never seen a Christmas tree look more perfect. It was almost as perfect as her.

“Babe?” I ask her softly, causing her bright blue eyes to catch mine sharply.

“Yes, my love?”

“Here, I brought you something to try.” I reply as I hand her a steaming mug with Santa’s face on the side of it.

“And what is this called?” She raises the mug to her delicate nose, taking in the aroma before indulging herself in a long sip - her eyes widening as the taste fully hits her tongue.

“First tell me.. do you like it?” I ask teasingly.

“I enjoy it very much, yes.” She says before eagerly taking another sip.

“This is my Grandmother’s special hot chocolate.” I say with a smile. “The secret is adding just a little bit of peppermint to it.”

“It’s quite lovely. Was your Grandmother an alchemist?” She asks as she finishes the contents of her drink.

“Nope. She just loved chocolate.” I reply with a laugh as I join Helena by the tree - wrapping one arm around her waist as I pulled her closer. A soft kiss to her cheek and all I can smell is chocolate dipped Helena with a splash of peppermint.

“You smell incredible.” I tell her, leaning in for another kiss.

“Oh? Do I, now?” She gives me a little smirk before placing a warm, lingering kiss to my lips.

“Mmh.. Yes, you do.” I say, kissing her back. “And you’re a vision by fire light, too, might I add.”

This time she blushes, slightly averting her eyes as she attempts to turn her focus back to the ornaments.

“You flatter me, my love.” She says softly.

“Let me tell you a little secret, babe.” I say as I lean in a little closer to her ear. “It’s not flattery if it’s true.”

This time she shudders, and I know my plan to fluster her is working. Her dark blue eyes shifting back to mine and she softly bites her bottom lip before giving me another smirk.

“You know… my love. If you keep this up, we’ll never finish this lovely tree of ours.”

“Sounds like a fair trade to me.” I say, kissing her again.

She slowly drops the ornament in her hand to the ground, firmly wrapping her arms around my waist as she pulls me in for a heated kiss. The sweet smell of chocolate and peppermint still on her lips as I drink her in, indulging in as much of her as I can. The glow of the fire place dancing playfully off her hair like it was caught helplessly in a stream of moonlight. My heart, warm, as the thought of spending my first Christmas with the love of my life spilled out into me. Helena was safe, loved, never to broken by the Witch Queen again - her first Christmas Eve spent cozily by the firelight - as our tongues wrote out exactly how we felt, with the sounds of Christmas filling the air.

****

Everyone’s all like “Be what you want to attract”

I want someone who will worship me like Gomez worships Morticia. What I gotta do?

Liliane: Good responses for being stabbed with a knife?

Hazel: Oh I made that!

Lorelei: That’s fair.

Ruelle: Can I keep it?

Xenia:...This. Again.

Alright writer brain! Let’s make up a story.

I'd very much like to punch a feminist.

I’d never, ever hurt a lady but I’d be happy to punch a feminist. It’d bring me great joy.