#love the full polka dot kit

[oneminutefiftysixseconds]

Giulio Ciccone in the King of the Mountains jersey during the 16th stage of the 2023 Tour De France + Yayoi Kusama's 2011 installation "With All My Love for Tulips, I Pray Forever"

[helenaheissner]

Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 19

Kate

“You ready for this?” I asked Faith.

“As I’ll ever be,” Faith replied. 

“My makeup looks okay?” 

“I did it myself, didn’t I?” she said. 

“Good point. Of course it’s perfect,” I said. 

“Heh. Flatterer.”

“Never been called that before,” I said, raking a hand through my hair, noticing some split ends. I should get it cut soon… Or get it done soon, I suppose. I guess it was time for me to figure out the difference. I’d been going to barbers once a year all my life and asking for the bare minimum to be trimmed and promptly didn’t think about my hair after that. Now… Now that seemed like a terrible idea, and one I couldn’t believe I’d been indulging for as long as I had. I should try something new with it- Mom had mentioned her stylist was a miracle worker with something called ‘layering.’ I’d have to look up what that actually meant, but if it could make me look girlier it must’ve been a good thing. And maybe a new color, too; the platinum blonde looked great on Mom, and everyone had always told me I’d taken after her in the looks department, so maybe it’d look good on me too. 

“I’ll admit, that’s not terribly surprising,” Faith said, unbuckling her seatbelt in the shotgun of my truck, checking her own hair for split ends. Lucky girl had perfect hair- it was so unfair, she probably woke up with it looking that good. 

“Hey now,” I said, poking her cheek. 

She playfully swatted my finger away and raised an eyebrow. 

“Okay, fair enough, I walked into that one,” I said. “Also, it’s pretty accurate.”

“Yes,” she said. “Just like ‘flatterer’ is accurate for who you are now.”

“And like how ‘gorgeous supermodel’ is accurate for who you are now?” I said. 

Her jaw dropped, and I couldn’t help but picture her thought process as being a hamster running on its wheel. She broke off eye contact, and I started giggling. “That’s so not fair!” she said, finally giggling back. 

“It’s the truth, is what it is!” I said, poking her in the cheek again. 

“How dare you,” she said. 

“How indeed,” I said, winking at her. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” she said, opening the passenger side door. 

We both walked into Gaines’ Auto Body and Bodybuilding kitted out in our respective favorite sundresses: mine was pink with shirt-sleeves and white polka dots, hers was a sleeveless black number with gold stripes. I grabbed her arm and held her tight as we walked through the gym towards the back office, and whispered, “Just ignore them,” when I saw her eyes go wide with fear at all the huge dudes staring at her for various reasons. 

Nadine was waiting for us inside her office when we got there. “Hey, girl! And other girl! You must be Faith Watanabe!”

“I am she,” Faith nodded. 

“Kate’s told me all about you.”

“Oh?” Faith said, looking at the floor. 

“Good stuff, I promise,” I said, patting her on the back. 

“I just wanna start by saying you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Nadine said. 

“I want to,” Faith said. “I think Kate’s idea is good. And if Gaines is as much of a tool as you make him sound like-”

“He is,” Kate said. 

“He VERY MUCH is,” Nadine nodded. 

“Then forcing his hand doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world,” Faith said. 

“I couldn’t agree more,” I said. 

Nadine spent a few minutes adjusting the lighting in her office, then set us up for our photoshoot. It took about an hour, but when it was over, we had a full roll of pictures ready for social media to announce both my own friendship with my former arch-rival and Gaines’ public support of the trans community. Eric Gaines’ may have been a cynical asshole, but if I could use the implements at my disposal to push him into being more publicly trans-friendly, then I’d be doing myself (and probably other people as well) a favor. Nadine also had a whole ‘women in STEM’ angle she wanted to try pushing, but she mentioned that it would be better to wait until the finals tournament started to go for that. 

Of course, any of this working out long-term was contingent on me continuing to win. 

No pressure or anything.  

The shoot went by relatively quickly, and after that Faith and I decided to get a late lunch. She guided us to a ramen shop on Sawtelle Boulevard in Culver City, and after about forty minutes of waiting and parsing through anime merch shops, we were seated at a long bar table around the kitchen watching our soup and noodles prepared for it. Salt and pork and chicken and spice and seaweed scents all mixed together into a tantalizing symphony of aromas. 

My pork miso ramen and Faith’s chicken shoyu were placed in bowls in front of us, and Faith pressed cloves of garlic into both our bowls. I dug in with my chopsticks and took in a mouthful of spicy ground pork and red broth. “Mmmmm,” I groaned. 

“Good stuff, right?” Faith said, swallowing her own food. 

“Soooo good! How did you find this place?”

“Olivia took me here on our first date,” Faith said, smiling wistfully while looking at nothing in particular. 

… Until a moment passed, and suddenly she was smiling wistfully while looking very clearly at me. 

I shifted in my seat and broke off eye contact as Faith sipped from her glass of water, leaving a red lipstick stain on the rim as she stared longingly into my eyes. A hundred million thoughts all went through my mind at different speeds and in opposite directions, but chief among them was ‘you have a boyfriend, you have a boyfriend, you have an incredibly handsome and charming and supportive boyfriend.’

Did I miss something? When did this happen?! This made no damn sense- everything about Faith Watanabe had always been confusing, and now that was even more true than ever! 

Okay, let’s think about this- Zeke hadn’t said anything about this, and he told me everything so I didn’t think he was holding out on me. I was… Resigned to the idea that he might want to leave me for Faith, even if it would feel like my heart getting surgically removed without anesthesia. Faith was here first, had liked him longer, knew him better, could probably make him happier, and was way, way, WAY hotter than me. Dancing with her the other night had been fun, and dancing with her and Zeke had been REALLY fun, and I really liked spending time with her, and I really REALLY liked spending time with both of them… But I didn’t want to make Faith into a third wheel, and I was aware that I might wind up being the third wheel if he dumped me for her… 

UGH! This was so confusing! Why did nothing make sense!? Why did I have to be so freaking stupid?!

That was when I noticed Faith waving her hand in front of my face. 

“Gah!” I said, my slumped posture suddenly straightening. 

“You okay?” she asked. “You kinda… Went away for a minute there.”

“I, uh, well, you see,” I stammered, struggling to make eye contact. “You… I… How are things with you and Zeke?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” she smirked. 

“I mean, it’s a relevant question for both of us,” I said. 

“That’s true,” she said. 

“After the other night, after we all danced together,” I said, “Did things go back to normal between you two? Did you talk at all about what happened? Are you guys okay?”

“To answer your questions in reverse order,” Faith said, “We’re okay. We haven’t talked about what happened. And I don’t know that things will ever really go back to normal per se, now that the cat’s out of the bag.”

“That… That makes sense,” I said, gulping down a mouthful of noodles and meat. “I just mean… What do you think is gonna happen between you guys?”

“I don’t really think that’s up to me,” Faith said, stirring her soup with her chopsticks. “It’s up to him. And you.”

“What… What do you mean by that?”

“I mean…,” she started, “I mean that I know what you were thinking, when you got me to confess to him. You thought he would leave you for me. Because you think you still aren’t done apologizing for being a jerk to me. But the reality, my dear Katie-”

I blinked with the rapidity of a machine gun open-firing. “‘My dear?’” 

“- is that I was just as much of a jerk to you, and I don’t think I’m done apologizing yet. You, however, have more than made up for everything. I really like the person you’ve become. Or maybe it’s just the person you’ve always been, whom I was just too dumb to see,” Faith said. She reached across the table and put her hand over mine. 

My brain was short-circuiting, and I dared not open my mouth for fear of stuttering at a million miles per hour. This wasn’t happening, there was literally no way this was happening-

“I like you,” Faith said. “And I like Zeke. I like you both the same way, even if it feels different with each of you. And I know you and Zeke have a good thing going, and I don’t wanna get in the way of it. I want you both to be happy. But you… You taught me to be brave, Katie Calloway. I mean that- you’re the bravest person I know. You see something you want and you go right for it. I want to be more like that, more like you in that way. And I gotta start somewhere. So I’m starting here and now, with you. Not leaving anything unsaid.”

A feeling surged through me, like I was being lowered into a hot spring after running a marathon, my aching limbs and throbbing heart finding relief and bliss and comfort. My mouth opened and closed, and Faith put a single finger over my lips. “You don’t have to respond right now. You can think about it, about how you feel about me, about what you want to do with this. I’m throwing a lot at you, I know.”

“D-does Zeke know you like me too?” I said, trying to focus on anything other than the finger hovering on the borders of my mouth.

“No,” Faith said, taking her slim, delicate digit off of my lips, to my relief and my chagrin. “I was gonna talk to him about it after the Gregson fight. He doesn’t need the distraction right now.”

“That’s fair,” I said, trying to keep my brain from melting out my ears. “Do you want me not to say anything?”

“I don’t think that’s up to me,” Faith said with a nonchalant shrug. “He’s your boyfriend, it’s your call whether or not you tell him about this conversation.”

“But what do you want me to say?” I said, staring into my bowl of food. “W-what do you want out of this? What’s your ideal outcome?”

She bit her lower lip a moment, then said, “I had a lot of fun dancing with the both of you the other night. If we could all keep doing that together, I think… I think that would make me really happy. But if that’s not what you want, or not what he wants, I’ll back off. Mostly… I just want you both to be happy.”

I gulped. “O-okay. I need to… I’ll take you up on your offer to let this marinate for a few days, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” she said, cupping my cheek and brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. I struggled not to release a sapphic moan there and then. “Food is on me today, yeah?”

I nodded. 

This was… This was a lot to take in. I couldn’t even believe it was happening, and yet… 

And yet here I was. So very blessed.

***

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

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Thank you so much for your continued support of my work! Every little bit helps me to keep going :)

[stampwithtami]

Diagonal Joy Fold Cards with April Paper Pumpkin [Series 3-5]

DIAGONAL JOY FOLD CARDS Need a fun, relatively easy way to spruce up your craft projects? Look no further than Diagonal Joy Fold cards! I created gorgeous cards using pieces from the April Paper Pumpkin kit. My tutorial shows how to make your own stunning cards with minimal effort. These are cards 3-5 in my series of Diagonal Joy Fold. The April Paper Pumpkin kit came with a handy box organizer. So many great uses for this such as organizing the ink spots that come with each kit, or embellishment holder , etc. I also found it was useful to hold all of the kit pieces while I was working so I could see them all at a glance rather then all over the table.     INSTRUCTIONS INSTRUCTIONS NEED HELP WITH DIAGONAL JOY FOLD?If you’d like some help with the Diagonal Joy Fold check out this video. DIAGONAL JOY FOLD VIDEO VIDEO INSTRUCTIONS FOR APRIL KIT CARD PHOTOS Want to save these ideas for later? Pin them to your favorite Pinterest board. Have you tried these designs? I love to see your creations! Be sure to share them on #shareyourcrafts post every Saturday on my Facebook Page. These flowers from the All Good Things Paper Pumpkin kit have a really pretty iridescent foil on them and they catch your attention immediately.  I used some of the new Subtles Designer Series paper for both cards. I also used the pretty printed envelopes as designer paper background on the blue card.  A view of the inside of the cards.  I embossed a piece of Vellum with the polka dot folder from the Basics Collection for the subtle frosted texture.I cut the a lot of the leaves of these flowers and repositioned them.  These flowers almost look like stained glass don't they?I made 2 different versions of the Balmy Blue diagonal joy fold. One with the flowers and one with the leaves die cuts from the kit. Be sure to subscribe by May 10 for May's kit.  CARD SUPPLIES I used the April 2023 "All the Little Things" Paper Pumpkin Kit and the new Subtles Print Designer Series Paper. Read the full article

[yummyyume]

Maribat soulmates AU

I wrote most of it a year ago, but never got around to posting it. It’s probably been done before, but I’m a sucker for soulmate AU, so you people are getting it anyway. 

Hope you all like it!

I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors, English is not my first language. I hope it’s still intelligible.

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.

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General headcanons for the AU:

-Soulmates share the same skills set. When one knows how to do something, the other can do it too. They have the same proficiency, but it gets adapted to their body type, their way of life and their personality and behavior. (ex: Marinette and Damian can both use the katana, but they don’t parry the same way or use the same combinations of attacks.)

-They know when the skill they’re currently using come from their soulmate. It’s like a small acknowledgement at the back of their mind.

-When they meet face to face, they recognize each other immediately.

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-When Marinette really starts to talk, Arabic and Mandarin words are as present in her vocabulary as French words.

-Sabine is delighted that her baby girl’s soulmate has roots in her culture too. Tom starts looking up Arabic words to try to understand what she is saying. With only a baby pronunciation to get by, it is slow going.

-When Marinette is old enough to understand that she could speak Arabic and Mandarin thanks to her soulmate, she decides that it’s not a fair trade. She gets two languages from them and they only get one! She settles on learning Italian with Nonna Gina.

-Marinette is very agile and light on her feet.

-She knows that baking is her skill, but cooking is her soulmate’s. Every time she helps her maman with diner, she feels like someone is backing her up at the back of her mind. A warm presence easily overlooks. Like ‘oh yeah, it’s your skill. Thank you for sharing.’

-Arabic, Mandarin and cooking are the only thing she really gets from her soulmate. Or so she thinks. Assassin’s skills aren’t exactly useful in the day to day life of a French bakery.

-When she becomes Ladybug, she thinks that the acrobatics are thanks to the magic suit. Until she finds herself with a sword in her hands and suddenly, she isn’t so sure anymore.

-Ladybug’s suit includes a black utility belt made of little pouches with self-sealing flaps and full of all sort of things: zip ties, a gas mask (perfectly functional despite its small size – don’t question the magic), an infra-red flashlight, a fingerprint kit, skeleton keys, smoke bombs, flash bombs, a rebreathing apparatus, a miniature voice recorder, a basic first-aid kit. Everything is bright red with black polka dots. Even the zip ties.

-After a careful inventory of her utility belt, Marinette acknowledges that probably half of it is the result of soulmate influence. Tikki had told her that generally her Chosens only use their yo-yo and Marinette would never have thought of zip ties on her own.

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-Damian knows that he has a soulmate because he can speak French and Italian like a native when he only ever learnt Arabic and Mandarin.

-He scoffs at the thought of a soulmate. He’s an Al Ghul and his grandfather’s heir, he has no need for such frivolities. When he’ll met his soulmate, he’ll either recruit them for the League or kill them, depending on what his mood will be that day and their level of uselessness.

-He starts learning English when he’s nine following his mother’s orders. If he’s to be his father’s heir, he needs to be able to communicate with him and the various ‘children’ the man adopted over the years. He thinks his soulmate is helping him by learning English words he hasn’t learnt yet. He doesn’t dwell on it.

-It isn’t until he starts living with his father in Gotham that he starts to see soulmates in a new light. Richard Grayson’s soulmate is Starfire. Timothy Drake’s soulmate is Superboy. He can’t win against either of them. Maybe his soulmate won’t be useless after all.

-Damian has a hard time falling asleep in a house full of highly trained strangers at first. He starts exploring the Manor, before ending in the kitchen. Following instincts that aren’t his own, he makes chocolate-chip cookies. While preparing the dough, he can feel a warm almost-there presence at the back of his mind. He starts doing it every night. Sometimes he tries new recipes. They all turn pretty good. No one ever bother him.

(-They have all already checked the camera feed to see what he was up to. And if baking is relaxing him, they aren’t going to comment. He’s enough of a prickly porcupine, no need to put him even more on the defensive.)

-Damian grows to love his family. And maybe his soulmate, whoever they were.

.

-Amelia Brody is Marinette’s class interpreter and tour guide for the duration of their school trip in Gotham. She’s cheerful and excited to show her city to those children. She’s a bit weirded-out by the class dynamics but put it down to French people, until it’s time to tour Wayne Enterprise.

-They’re just finishing touring the open-to-visitors part of WE when she realizes that Marinette is rooted to the spot and facing the ‘employees only’ elevators a few meters away.

“Marinette?” she calls, coming closer. “Is everything alright?”

The girl blinks at her, eyes wide, before looking back at the elevators.

“I-I don’t… I’m sorry… I just… Soulmate?”

Some of the other teenagers scoff.

“Quit making a scene, girl.” Alya rolls her eyes.

Amelia has been getting to know those children for days and she saw how Marinette was treated, how everyone believed Lila’s grand tales and it’s not her place to interfere, even less so when she doesn’t have the full picture, but when she sees Marinette force herself to take a step back, shoulders hunched up, she swipes out her phone to call security and informs them of the situation.

A few minutes later, a dark-haired man cheerfully joins them. Amelia is standing like a barrage between Marinette and the things her classmates are murmuring about the girl while Caline Bustier imitates a pot plant. (Amelia is going to write a long report on this class, just watch her). Still, Amelia is very relieved to see Dick Grayson. (She manages to keep the fangirling down to a mental squeal, thank God)

“So, you’re feeling your soulmate is upstairs?” he asks Marinette.

“I’m sorry,” she replies like a reflex, looking down at her shoes.

“Don’t be! Let’s go see if we can find them!”

Everyone piles up in the elevator. There’re so many people working at WE that the elevators are all very spacious.

It’s not quite a skill that make Marinette push the top floor button, but it’s not that different from muscle memory. Her soulmate has pushed this button so many times, that Marinette doesn’t even hesitate. Dick’s eyes lit up at her actions. After all there’s not a lot of people at the top floor who can be her soulmate. He doesn’t quite like the tone of her classmates even if he can’t understand what they’re saying, but the tour guide’s expression is a sign to behold, so he doesn’t think he’s imagining the insults.

-When the elevator’s doors open again, Marinette makes a beeline for the central office just as the door opens and a young man with dark hair and green eyes exits with a puzzled frown.

Their eyes meet.

“Hi,” Marinette blushes, incapable of looking anywhere else.

“Hello,” Damian replies, voice soft.

[sensei-aishitemasu]

2020 Black-Owned Gift Guide!

2020 Black-Owned Gift Guide!

It’s that time again! Our SIXTH ANNUAL BLACK-OWNED GIFT GUIDE IS HERE!!!! This Black Friday, try and support a Black-owned business for all your gift-giving needs. For last years gift guide, click here. For the 2018 gift guide, click here. For the 2017 gift guide, click here. For the 2016 gift guide, click here. For the 2015 gift guide, click here.

Similar to previous lists, I kept every individual item listed under $100! Click on the links to be taken to the websites in order to peruse more yourselves: all businesses listed are Black-owned, and many are run by Black women, Black Americans specifically, manufactured here in the United States, and/or sustainably and ethically sourced with philanthropic causes attached to sales! Check them out. 

In addition, this year there are THREE NEW CATEGORIES! Check out items for the ‘Goth/Kawaii,’ for your ‘Activist Bae,’ and for the ‘Esoteric’ down below.

[As always, this guide has been split into categories to make it easier to get through, but feel free to mix and match for the person in your life that fits all of (or none of!) these categories!]

For the Homebody:

Lettie Gooch Small Safety Matches, $18 Lettie Gooch Amber & Moss Soy Candle, $20 Lettie Gooch White Concrete White Tea & Ginger Candle, $28 Lettie Gooch Planetarium Throw Blanket, $68 Lettie Gooch Soleil Throw Blanket, $68

Debra Cartwright ‘Bike’ Watercolor Print, $38 Debra Cartwright ‘Aura’ Watercolor Print, $87 Debra Cartwright ‘Astro Millennial Ladies in Quarantine’ Coloring Book, $5

Harlem Candle Company ‘Brownstone’ Luxury Candle, $45 Harlem Candle Company ‘Lenox’ Luxury Room Spray, $30 Harlem Candle Company ‘Langston’ Luxury Room Spray, $30

Jungalow Genie Vase, $89 Jungalow Handwoven Peach Planter, $49 Jungalow Azul Face Pillow by Justina Blakeney X Loloi, $89 Jungalow Soft Mint Pillow, $89 Jungalow Aja Wallpaper in Green by Justina Blakeney, $5 (per sheet) Jungalow Tigris Wallpaper in Onyx by Justina Blakeney, $5 (per sheet) Jungalow Cream Looped Wool Rug, $99.00 Jungalow Silvia Teal & Berry Rug by Justina Blakeney X Loloi, $69.00 Jungalow Striped Orange Outdoor Rug, $59.00 Jungalow Reindeer Games Hook Pillow by Justina Blakeney, $60.00 Jungalow Peace Vase by Justina Blakeney, $68.00 

Kashmir Viii ‘S is for Soul’ Print, $35-$45 

Galerie LA Rooted Incense Holder, $45

Duchess365 358 Art Print, $23.99 

Jeff Manning Art ‘Aplomb’ Art Print, $45 Jeff Manning Art ‘Pacific’ Art Print, $30

Kicky Mats ‘Get Naked’ Bath Mat, $30 Kicky Mats ‘Did You Wash Your Hands?’ Doormat, $50 Kicky Mats ‘Go Away, Come Back With Wine’ Doormat, $50 Kicky Mats ‘Did You Call First?’ Doormat, $50

228 Grant Street Candle Co. Tobacco + Patchouli Gold Travel Tin, $11 228 Grant Street Candle Co. Wild Blackberry + Absinthe Amber Jar, $21 228 Grant Street Candle Co. Oakmoss + Amber Apothecary Jar, $32

Shea Makery Strawberry Cheesecake Signature Candle, $40 Shea Makery Cinna-Bowl Signature Candle, $40

The Silver Room Cider and Cedar Leaf Candle, $34 The Silver Room Rose Water & Tea Leaves Diffuser, $28 The Silver Room Minnie Ripperton - Les Fleur Vinyl, $26

Rituals + Ceremony Anonomy Sculptures, $79 Rituals + Ceremony USB Travel Ultrasonic Essential Oil Diffuser, $25

Handcrafted Ceramic Watering Cans, $64

Fill More Waste Less Natural Loofah Sponge, $2.50 Fill More Waste Less Food Huggers, $12. 99 

Ment Nelson Backwoods Baptism Print, $50 Ment Nelson Old Sheldon Print, $40

Quarantine Games!

Trading Races, $19.99

Winsults, $25

Cards For All People - Black Card Revoked (First Edition), $17.99

Trap Wars - The Urban Game Night Experience, $22.99

Lyrically Correct 90's & 2000's Hip Hop/R&B Edition, $24.99

Black Wall Street - The Black History Board Game, $49.99

Pull Your Card Music Trivia: Hip Hop Edition, $14.99

Spill It Card Game, $23

'Verified' A Party Game for Social Media Lovers (Original Edition), $19.99

For the Foodie:

Kashmir Viii ‘The Black Power’ Mixtape Coasters, $40 Kashmir Viii ‘Reclaim It’ Mug, $16 Kashmir Viii ‘I Slay.’ Clutch, $45 

Galerie LA Peak and Valley Balance Blend, $30 

‘The Cooking Gene,’ by Michael W. Twitty, $28.99 

‘From Crook to Cook: Platinum Recipes From the Boss Dog’s Kitchen’ by Snoop Dogg, $24.95 

Essie Spice Signature Sauce Collection, $42 

‘Your Guide to Tasteful Manners’ with Love Cork Screw, $19.95 

‘Deliciously Vegan’ Cookbook by The Chic Natural, $28.95 

EAT Apron, $30

Midnight Reflections Crowned White Ceramic Mug, $19.99

The Spice Suite Utensils + Oven Mitts, $50 The Spice Suite ‘The Little Black Spice Book’ (E-book), $30

Rituals + Ceremony Circle Mug, $40 Rituals + Ceremony Agate 6pc Plate Set, $24

Blk + Grn Stainless Steel Tea Ball Infuser, $4

Fill More Waste Less Reusable Tea Strainer, $14.99

Good Thoughts Tea Co. Tea Spoon Set, $12

KazvareMadeIt Personalised Alphabet Mug Tile Print, $20.99 KazvareMadeIt Banananana Cushion, $55.80

Addie Rawr ‘Addie's Cocktail Collection’ (Cards & Prints), $3.75

For the Beauty Guru:

Lettie Gooch Blends Perfume: Earth, $30 Lettie Gooch Bloom Perfume Blend No. 586, $48 

Galerie LA Hand Sanitizer, $10 Galerie LA Cream Cleanser, $16 Galerie LA Citrine Sea Tropical Exfoliator, $18 Galerie LA Botanica Rose Roller, $14 Galerie LA Botanica Lavender Roller, $14 Galerie LA Aurora Superfood Elixer (Face Serum), $27 Galerie LA Jade Eye Mask, $44 Galerie LA Rose Quartz Facial Roller, $28.00 

Shea Makery Scar Healing Serum, $23 Shea Makery Cinnamon Bun Body Butter, $25 Shea Makery Glazed Donut Body Butter, $25 Shea Makery Milk + Honey + Syrup Bubble Bath, $22 Shea Makery Honeycomb Bath Set, $16

The Lip Bar Cheek and Eye Palette, $15  The Lip Bar ‘Goddess’ Lipgloss, $14 The Lip Bar ‘Bawse Lady’ Liquid Matte Lipstick, $13  The Lip Bar ‘4:00 Stuntin' Fast Face Kit,’ $99 The Lip Bar Limited Edition Easy Holiday Glam Collection, $25  The Lip Bar ‘Lip Bar Littles,’ $18.99 The Lip Bar Minimalist Lovers Bundle, $36

Auda B. Beauty Soy Polish Remover, $26 

Breukelen Polished ‘Paid and Full,’ $11 Breukelen Polished ‘Get Me Right’ Treatment Set, $25

Beauty Bakerie ‘Milk & Honey’ Highlighting Brush, $18 Beauty Bakerie ‘Coffee and Cocoa’ Bronzer Palette, $38 Beauty Bakerie ‘Black Egg-cellence’ Beauty Sponges, $18  Beauty Bakerie ‘Sugar Cookies’ Palette, $28 Beauty Bakerie ‘The Butter’ Hydrasilk Primer, $24

Mented Mini Brush Trio, $10 Mented Everyday Eyeshadow Palette, $28 Mented Brush Collection, $45 Mented Holiday Faves Trio, $50

Blac Minerals Highlight Bundle, $32 

Danessa Myricks Beauty Oil, $30  Danessa Myricks Waterproof Cream Palettes, $36 Danessa Myricks Luxe Cream Palettes ‘The Nudist,’ $44

Pear Nova ‘Holiday Essentials’ Nail Set, $90 

Habit Cosmetics Nail Polish in Voodoo, $18  Habit Cosmetics Nail Polish in Midnight Cowboy, $18 Habit Cosmetics Nail Polish in Black Orpheus, $18 Habit Cosmetics Nail Polish in Scarab, $18

Hunny Bunny Cuticle Cream, $4.50 Hunny Bunny Grapefruit Sugar Scrub, $20

Taupe Coat in Good Fortune, $11

More Brands To Try:

People of Color Beauty

Mischo Beauty

Suite Eleven

Brown Butter Beauty

Beija Flor Naturals

Plain Jane Beauty

Ancient Cosmetics

Hue Noir

Lotus Moon Skincare

For the Fashion Conscious:

Merit ‘Fate’ Bucket Hat, $20

Chris Cardi Signature TwistDYE Tee, $33

Lettie Gooch Black Mineral Washed Jacquard Leggings, $68 Lettie Gooch ‘Smiling On The Inside’ Mask, $28

Kashmir Viii Face Masks, $16 Kashmir Viii ‘Around The Way Girl’ Clutch, $45-$60

Galerie LA Hemp Tie Button Down Sage, $90 Galerie LA Gratia Jumpsuit Tumeric, $100 Galerie LA Red Zipper Wallet, $45 Galerie LA Dopp Kitt (Makeup Bag) in Navy, $40 Galerie LA Lunar Star Earrings, $100 Galerie LA Meria Sunglasses Coral Pink, $75 Galerie LA Oda Ring, $45 Galerie LA Sabbath Cocoon Tunic, $85

Tree Fairfax Keychain, $22.50 Tree Fairfax Lois Belt, $45

LoveCortnie Polka Dot Leather Key Chain Clasps, $15 LoveCortnie Small Leather Tassel, $17 LoveCortnie ‘Color Me’ Coin Purse, $30 LoveCortnie Envelope Card Holder (Black & White), $32

Rue 107 ‘Toni’ Bikini in XOXO Print, $98 Rue 107 Signature Pencil Skirt in XOXO Print, $68 Rue 107 Tied Cropped Tank in XOXO Print, $48 Rue 107 Tied Cropped Tank in Vintage Rose Print, $48 Rue 107 Signature Pencil Skirt in Vintage Rose Print, $68

Grant Blvd ‘Sustainable Shit Only’ Fanny Pack, $26

Ebony and Green Mindfulness Earrings, $10

For the Bookworm:

‘Daymares’ by Kenya Moss-Dyme, $12.99

‘Hood Feminism’ by Mikki Kendall, $26

‘The Source of Self-Regard’ by Toni Morrison, $28.95

‘Tar Baby’ by Toni Morrison, $15

‘The Beautiful Ones’ by Prince, $30

‘In Her Hands: The Story of Sculptor Augusta Savage’ by Alan Schroeder, $12.95

‘The Street: A Novel’ by Ann Petry, $15.99

‘Chasing Down a Dream: A Blessings Novel’ by Beverly Jenkins, $14.99

‘Rebel (Women Who Dare)’ by Beverly Jenkins, $5.98

‘Night Song’ by Beverly Jenkins, $8.99

‘Tempest’ by Beverly Jenkins, $5.98

‘Our Black Year: One Family's Quest to Buy Black in America's Racially Divided Economy’ by Maggie Anderson, $17

Rayo and Honey ‘Books Change Your Mind’ Pennant, $75

Jungalow Face Bookend Vase by Justina Blakeney, $98

Midnight Reflections Black Nerd Tote Bag, $18.99

Addie Rawr Book Club Dolls Stickers (Die Cut Stickers), $9.50

For the Kids:

Jungalow Leela Terracotta Rug by Justina Blakeney X Loloi, $89.00 Jungalow Pink Looped Wool Rug, $99.00

Galerie LA Kids Face Mask, $25

Duchess365 237 Canvas Print, $98.99 Duchess365 231 Tote Bag, $24.99 Duchess365 279 Art Print, $23.99 Duchess365 241 Framed Art Print, $47.99

Shea Makery PB & J Soap, $10 Shea Makery ‘Save A Life’ Mini Assorted Hand Soaps (Set of 12), $5

Little Leaders: Bold Women in Black History, $16.99

‘Clean Getaway’ by Nic Stone, $16.99

‘Bee Fearless: Dream Like a Kid’ by Mikaela Ulmer, $16.19

ABC Me Flashcards, $20

IkdKids Rag Doll, $40

KaAn’s ‘Living The Dream’ Denim Jacket, $40

Yinibini Baby Badminton Playing Octopus Tee, $23 Yinibini Baby Fox Pullover Sweatshirt Jogger Set, $41 Yinibini Baby ROAR Lion Hooded Pullover, $45 Yinibini Narwhal Toy, $28

For the Masculine:

ALWD Signature DC PROPER Sweatshirt, $40

Chris Cardi ‘Bastards’ Tee, $30.03

Merit Flannel Shirt (Green), $65

Kashmir Viii ‘Everybody Eats, B,’ Tee, $45 Kashmir Viii ‘The Knockout’ Tee, $45

Galerie LA ‘Mister’ T-Shirt, $45

Jeff Manning Art ‘Overflow’ Art Print, $30 Jeff Manning Art ‘The Golden Age’ Art Print, $45 Jeff Manning Art ‘Overflowed Emotions’ Art Print, $50

Levi Fisher Beard Bundle, $39.99

Scotch Porter Face Care Collection, $28.99 Scotch Porter Journal, $9.99

Shea Makery Beard Oil, $15

Enbois Matte Lava Rock Bracelet, $40 Enbois Benji Matte Sunglasses, $45 Enbois Bracelets Collection - Cocoa, $50

The Silver Room Tourer Backpack, $95

Urban Profile Black Panther Shirt, $24.99

Solo Noir Starter Kit, $28.99

Bevel Shave Starter Bundle, $89.95 Bevel Skin Starter Set, $61.95

For the Tech Savvy:

Enbois iPhone Case, $12 Enbois Power Bank, $15 Enbois Grip Socket, $4

Chic Geeks Brown Faux Crocodile iPad Case, $75 Chic Geeks Brown Snakeskin iPad Case, $75 Chic Geeks Emerald Faux Crocodile iPhone Case, $50 Chic Geeks Grey Marble MacBook Case, $80 Chic Geeks Black Faux Crocodile iPad Case, $75

Khristian A. Howell Cava Melon Sleek and Chic Phone Case, $39.99 Khristian A. Howell Cava Black Sleek and Chic Phone Case, $39.99

NSPRE ‘Inferno’ Bluetooth Sunglasses, $71.99 NSPRE Micro SD Card (128GB), $21.98 NSPRE ‘The Ombres’ Bluetooth Audio Sunglasses, $59.99  NSPRE ‘The Solars’ Bluetooth BlueTech Glasses, $59.99

For the Goth/Kawaii:

VickiBeWicked Vinyl Sticker Heart Drippy Mushroom, Laptop Decal, $4 VickiBeWicked Rainbow Unicorn, Black Girl Magic Laptop Sleeve, $30.99 VickiBeWicked AfroGirls Masked Up Laptop Sleeve, $30.99 VickiBeWicked Pastel Horn Face Resin Keychain, $12.99 VickiBeWicked Red and White Splatter Skull Dangle Earrings, $7.50

Kashmir Viii ‘The KeKe’ Print, $35-$60

Adorned by Chi ‘Goth Club Presidenct’ Unisex Raglan T-Shirt, $34.99 Adorned by Chi ‘Pro Black’ Unisex Raglan T-Shirt, $34.99 Adorned by Chi ‘Pretty Girls Like Anime’ T-Shirt, $32.99 Adorned by Chi ‘Awkward’ Iron-On Patch, $11.99 Adorned by Chi ‘I Need My Space’ Hard Enamel Pin, $12.99

The Colour Polka Dot iPhone XS ‘Creepy Cute’ Rainbow Phone Case, $40 The Colour Polka Dot ‘Creepy Cute’ Spoopy Ornaments, $12 The Colour Polka Dot ‘Kawaii Cute’ Face Mask Case, $16

Embrii Shop Blush Pink Laptop Sleeve, $36

Gothic Lamb Anti Social Goth Club Tee, $28 Gothic Lamb ‘FedUp’ Tee, $24 Gothic Lamb ‘Make America Goth Again’ Tee, $28 Gothic Lamb ‘Melanin Manson’ Tee, $24

For the Esoteric:

Behati Life Third Eye Vision And Prophetic Dreams Intention Oil, $22 Behati Life New Moon Bath Soak Herbal Mix, $22 Behati Life Lunar Goddess Moon Magick Intention Oil, $22

Lettie Gooch Ecuadorian Palo Santo Quartz Crystal Bundle, $18

Jungalow Chaya Wallpaper in Amethyst by Justina Blakeney, $5

The Silver Room White Sage Bundle, $6

Grandma Baby's Black Gold Lenormand Tarot Deck, $44

Pretty Spirits ‘The Truth’ Decks, $50

The Afro Tarot, $88

The Hoodoo Tarot: 78-Card Deck and Book for Rootworkers by Tayannah Lee McQuillar, $18.66

‘Rootwork: Using the Folk Magick of Black America for Love, Money and Success’ by Tayannah Lee McQuillar, $11.99

Rituals + Ceremony Palo Santo Pack, $7 Rituals + Ceremony Empowered Vibes Ceramic Incense Holder, $10 Rituals + Ceremony Adinkra Intention Candles, $23 Rituals + Ceremony Cleanse and Protect Ritual Kit, $34 Rituals + Ceremony Crystal Candles, $22 Rituals + Ceremony Crystal Bliss: Attract Love, Feed Your Spirit, Manifest Your Dreams Book, $14.99

Ebony and Green Raw Clear Quartz Earrings, $15

For Your Activist Bae:

Kashmir Viii ‘Kash’s Bacon Shack’ Clutch, $45 Kashmir Viii ‘Copy and Paste’ Tee, $45 Kasmir Viii ‘We Did It First’ Stickers, $5.25-$20 Kashmir Viii ‘Reclaim It’ Clock, $45 Kashmir Viii ‘The Black Family’ Tee, $45

Jeff Manning Art ‘MLK’ Art Print, $35 Jeff Manning Art ‘We Shall Prevail’ Art Print, $45

‘The Spook Who Sat By The Door’ by Sam Greenlee, $21.99 ‘The Black Panthers Speak,’ $20 The Black Power Mixtape: 1967-1975, $22.95 A Beautiful Ghetto by Devin Allen, $26.95 ‘Are Prisons Obsolete?’ by Angela Davis, $15.95

Angela Davis T-Shirt, $25

Legendary Rootz ‘Black Girls Are The Purest Form of Art’ Tee, $25

Alex Carter ‘BLACK BUSINESS OWNERSHIP’ Tee, $50

Rayo and Honey ‘Much To Be Done & Undone’ Pennant, $75 Rayo and Honey ‘Black Lives Matter’ Pennant, $75 Rayo and Honey ‘Joy Is An Act Of Resistance’ Tote Bag, $65

‘They Carried Us: The Social Impact of Philadelphia’s Black Women Leaders’ by Allener M. Baker-Rogers & Fasaha M. Traylor, $ 28.99

Midnight Reflections Black Radical Woman Tank, $25.00

The Colour Polka Dot ‘Fuck Racism’ Resin Heart Keychain, $8

Rituals + Ceremony Be The Change Scented Candle, $24

Grant Blvd ‘Disrupter’ Tee, $30 Grant Blvd ‘End Cash Bail’ Hoodie, $54 

Cards, Notebooks and Wrapping Paper + Holiday Ornaments:

VickiBeWicked ‘Skull Santa’ and Candy Cane Greeting Cards, $2

Harlem Candle Company Set of 10 Vintage Nightclub Greeting Cards, $30

Kashmir Viii ‘Nina En Printemps’ (Nina Simone) Notebook, $14 Kashmir Viii ‘Boo Yow!’ Notebook, $14

Midnight Reflections Wrapping Paper 3-pack, $26.97

Midnight Reflections Claus Ceramic Ornaments, $15.99

Midnight Reflections Emoji Black Santa Christmas Stockings, $24.99

Bylianarae Note Cards, $15

KazvareMadeIt Rap Lines Inspirational Coloring Book, $18.20 KazvareMadeIt Lemonade Notebook, $18.20 KazvareMadeIt Fried Egg Wallpaper, $4.88 KazvareMadeIt Diamond Retro Wrapping Paper, $4.88

Khristian A. Howell ‘Speak To Me’ Wallpaper, $12 (sample pack) Khristian A. Howell ‘Palm Springs’ Gift Wrap, $8.99 Khristian A. Howell ‘Sonar’ Gift Wrap, $8.99 Khristian A. Howell ‘Twinkle’ Gift Wrap, $8.99 Khristian A. Howell ‘Ansley Park’ Gift Wrap, $8.99 Khristian A. Howell ‘Rosy’ Holiday Gift Wrap, $8.99 Khristian A. Howell ‘Long Weekend’ Gift Wrap, $8.99 Khristian A. Howell ‘Bonjour’ Card Set (10 pk), $18

GreenTop Gifts ‘Clarence Claus’ HOHOHO Gift Wrap, $7.50 GreenTop Gifts ‘Clarence Claus’ Do Not Open Gift Wrap, $7.50 GreenTop Gifts ‘Clarence Claus’ Candy Canes and Trees Gift Wrap, $7.50

Addie Rawr 2021 Planners (Preorder), $30 Addie Rawr The Great Gratitude Journal, $20 Addie Rawr The Great Gratitude Journal, $20

[atths--twice]

Beneath the Light of the Moon

A little future fic where after a late shift at the hospital, Scully comes home to sit on the porch and drink some wine with Mulder, discussing her day and hearing about his own.

I saw a poem on my timeline on Twitter and from six short lines, a fic was born. I hope you enjoy the story I have created. I love it very much. The fluff... 💙

September 2022

Scully walked into her office and sighed. The later shifts at the hospital were always harder, but she was happy with how the day had gone. Well, content anyway.

She still had an hour to go, in which she would need to finish up her paperwork, leaving notes for the doctors on call in the morning. Sitting down at her desk, she sighed as he opened a file, rereading what she had written earlier, adding notes from the day.

As she moved it, reaching for the next folder, she heard a buzzing sound, and turned to her left, seeing her cell phone light up with a message from Mulder. She smiled as she picked up the phone and opened the message.

It was a picture of the moon, a bright full moon, taken from their porch, a small portion of the drive and the magnolia trees in the bottom corner. As she stared at it, the phone buzzed with another message.

Opening it, she found a picture of their porch swing, the new pillow Faith had insisted on sitting in the middle; white with numerous rainbows upon it. She grinned at the picture and then the phone buzzed again.

A picture of the porch chairs.

Then a picture of two glasses of wine on the table between the chairs.

She smiled, about to text him and tell him she would be home soon, when a message appeared and she sighed, the poetry of the words stirring her soul and arousing her all at once.

“Come home Beautiful lady I’ve left the lights on Though the stars And the moon Are burning brightly”

She exhaled, looking back through the messages and shaking her head; that man did know how to get to her. Exhaling again, she set the phone aside, not answering him, knowing it would only prolong things and she was now eager to hurry the paperwork along and get home to drink wine with him by the light of the moon.

Her notes may have been shorter than usual, but they were thorough and contained what was needed. Placing them onto Doctor McKay’s desk, she gathered up her things, walked out the door, and smiled as she headed to her car.

The gate to the drive was open, cutting out one stop she had to take in order to reach the house. She closed it after she drove through, not wanting Bella to run out and away. Driving up and parking beside the house, she saw him sitting on the porch, the white fairy lights on and the porch light off.

Smiling as she made her way to the stairs, she glanced at the moon across the field, wanting to see the view he had been enjoying as he waited for her arrival. Looking back at him, she grinned as she walked up the stairs.

“Hello there, beautiful lady,” he said and she stepped closer to him, bending and kissing him, her hand on his shoulder.

“Hello,” she breathed against his lips, kissing him again. Pulling back, she smiled as she took off her coat and tossed it onto the porch railing. Sitting beside him, she accepted the glass of wine he handed her.

Holding it in her right hand, she held her left out to him, silently asking for his hand. He interlocked their fingers, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it.

“How was your day?” he murmured, kissing her hand once more.

“It was okay,” she answered, taking a sip of her wine, squeezing his hand and releasing it, bringing it to rest on the arm of her chair.

“Just okay? Hmm. Give me your high and low.” She smiled as she thought of the game they played with Faith, the high and low of the day, always trying to highlight the positive over the negative.

“Let’s see…” she said, leaning back, and resting her head against the chair. “Low of my day… there was only light cream cheese in the cafeteria.”

“Oh… that is a definite low.” She laughed and nodded, taking a drink of her wine.

“And my high…” She turned her head and smiled as she looked at him. “Knowing that you were waiting here for me.”

“Gross,” he said, shaking his head as he grinned at her and she laughed softly. Turning her head, she looked at the moon and sighed happily.

“What about you? What did you two get up to today?”

“Well… we decided on a color today.”

“What? Really? That’s exciting!” Looking at him again, he nodded and smiled. “So what’s the color then?” He cleared his throat and grinned as he lifted his glass to his lips.

“All of the colors.”

She laughed, the sound of it echoing in the still, dark night. Shaking her head, she looked at him and he nodded.

“So… then no decision has been reached?”

“No, Scully. The decision is all of the colors.” He spread his hands wide and she laughed again.

Over the summer, despite the heat, they had all been working on a non-tree treehouse. It was more of a playhouse, but Faith had called it a treehouse so often, that was what it had become.

Everything had arrived in a huge kit, the wood a light colored pine with a plan to paint it when it was put together and finished. Skinner had come over a few times to help with the building of it, the house more intricate than believed when it had been purchased.

When the last screw was put in, Faith had been over the moon, clapping her hands and hugging them all before she opened the door and stepped inside.

It was a decent sized house, one that Scully could stand inside with Mulder bending only slightly. One large room was all it had, but to Faith it was like a palace, considering all the things she had wanted to put inside of it. It had a Dutch door, the top of it with a heart cut out in the middle. There were seven windows, with window boxes beneath four of them. A gabled roof extended out over a small porch with railings on three sides.

They had numerous tea parties and even a movie night with a sheet hanging on the wall to project it upon. Mulder had needed some ibuprofen the next day, the house not quite large enough for his over six foot tall body to lay in comfortably.

But Faith had loved playing in there, always rearranging the furniture she had brought inside. Trading the books from the bookcase in her room to the small one in the treehouse, back and forth as her interests changed. Little plastic chairs were sitting on the small porch and the window boxes had real plants in little plastic pots, though they did not actually grow very well, as Faith dug them up frequently, curious as to how they were doing.

It was her house, however, and they let her do what she wanted with it- within reason of course. She wanted curtains and Violet, their wonderful neighbor, surprised her one day with white ones covered in rainbow colored polka dots. She helped her hang them up and Faith had loved them. She wrote Violet a thank you note, which had made Violet cry, hugging Faith and telling her she was more than welcome.

The color of the house… that had been a never ending discussion, the color of it changing every time they thought they had it nailed down. They had gone to the hardware store and let Faith pick paint sample cards, hoping it would narrow down her options, but instead she had walked out with a huge stack of them. She had laid them all out on the living room floor, laying on her belly as she had stared at them, her concentration unwavering, as she took the decision very seriously.

A color had not yet been chosen yet, and that trip to the hardware store had taken place over three weeks ago. She had decided against some of the samples, but there were still quite a few on the floor, with no one allowed to touch them but her.

“So,” Scully laughed again. “How did she uh… narrow it down?”

“Would you like to see?”

“Absolutely.”

“Come on then,” he said, setting his glass down and standing to his feet. Reaching for her hand, he pulled her to her feet and set her glass of wine beside his on the table.

They walked down the stairs and around the house, the moon alone bright enough to light their way. He squeezed her hand and she smiled, grabbing his arm with her other hand.

Standing in front of the treehouse, he took a flashlight from his pocket and turned it on, before opening the door and gesturing for her to enter first. She smiled, ducking only slightly as she stepped inside, the beam of the flashlight revealing how the decision had been made and Scully laughed quietly as she shook her head.

All around the room, as high as Faith could reach, a different paint sample card had been taped to the wall. Clusters of colors were together, some random lonely ones, and some in a rainbow pattern. There was no rhyme or reason to it and Scully found that her usual need for organization was overpowered by the beauty in the chaos of colors.

She smiled and looked at Mulder, who was also grinning as he looked at them. He turned to her and nodded with a shrug.

“She was in and out of the house today, as I fixed the clothesline, Bella always trailing after her. I went inside to get our lunch ready and didn’t even notice the paint cards were all gone from the floor. We ate lunch and she asked if she could go back outside and I said sure. As I was finishing the clearing up, she came in with a huge smile on her face, pulling at my arm and asking me to come see something.” He grinned again as he held an ocean blue card between his fingers and then let it go. “She was so proud of herself, telling me she had finally decided on the color and wanted to show me, but I had to close my eyes before she would open the door and show me.”

“Did she lead you in?”

“She did and I one hundred percent hit my head on the way inside. Not too bad, but still…” They both laughed and she looked at the color samples again. “As I looked at them, I asked her why she chose all the colors and she said because she couldn’t choose just one and she didn’t want to make them sad and hurt the other colors feelings when they weren’t picked.” He looked at Scully and she shook her head slowly.

“That girl,” she whispered, taking a deep breath. “She has such a kind soul. So diplomatic. That’s you, through and through.” She smiled at him and he shook his head.

“No, that’s both of us,” he corrected her quietly and she smiled as she rubbed his arm. Sighing, she looked around the small room again.

“How will we ever accomplish this, Mulder?”

“Well,” he said, turning off the flashlight, and the room was plunged into darkness. He slipped the flashlight back into his pocket and pulled her close as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I raised that question to her as well and I was told, “You can do it, Daddy. I know you can.”” He stared at her and she grinned.

“She has complete faith in you,” she quipped and he laughed softly.

“She does indeed. It’s scary sometimes, that’s for sure.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I… I just don’t ever want to let her down. To be less than in her eyes, but I know that someday, somehow, I will.”

“Mulder…” she whispered, shaking her head. “Neither of us will ever be perfect and while we strive to always do our best… there will be times when we fall short, either because of our own shortcomings or because she will find something we do to be so embarrassing.” She rolled her eyes and smiled at him. He chuckled with a nod and then sighed deeply.

“I know,” he whispered.

“But for now,” she whispered back. “You can do no wrong. You are her superhero, her helper, her confidant, her best friend. She knows that if she puts up all the colors on the wall, you will get it done. Not because she demands or expects it, but because you are her daddy and her daddy can do anything.” She smiled and he ducked his head with a smile. “Complete faith in you.”

“My Faith has faith,” he whispered and she nodded, stroking his face gently.

“She’s not the only one.” He bent his head and kissed her, her arms tightening around his neck as he lifted her slightly off the ground.

They left the little house, Mulder careful to not bump his head, and closed the door behind them. As they walked back to the porch, she took a deep breath as she grasped his hand, smiling at how happy she felt even as she imagined all the painting they would soon be doing.

“Do you want to head inside?” he asked as they walked up the stairs and she shook her head.

“Not just yet,” she said, sitting down and smiling at him.

“Then I will get us some more wine,” he said, picking up their glasses, dropping a kiss on her head, and walking into the house.

Bella came out, her tail wagging happily as she walked over to Scully, giving her a lick and nudging at her hand.

“Hey girl. How you doing, huh?” She rubbed her ears and pet her muzzle, scratching under her chin. “Did you have fun with Faithy today?”

“Mama?” She heard and turned her head to find Faith standing in the doorway, barefoot in her pajamas, a black nightgown with a sleeping rosy cheeked yellow moon and yellow and pink stars. Rubbing her eyes as she blinked in the light, she yawned tiredly.

“Hey, love. What are you doing up?” she asked as she sat up and opened her arms. Faith stepped onto the porch, climbing into her lap and snuggling close. “You should be sleeping.”

“I heard you talking and I wanted to see you,” Faith said quietly, the baby doll she had gotten for her second birthday and had loved ever since held tightly, as Scully wrapped her arms around her.

“Well, I’m glad you did. I missed you today.”

“I missed you too, Mama.” She yawned again and snuggled closer, her breathing already becoming slower. Scully smiled, rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head.

Mulder walked out, stopping in his tracks as he saw Faith on her lap. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and she smiled. Setting down their glasses of wine, he held his arms out to take Faith and put her back to bed.

Scully shook her head, happy to cuddle her for a while longer. He nodded with an understanding smile and sat down in the chair beside her.

Closing her eyes, she leaned back and  situated Faith to lay against her chest. Resting her right cheek on her head, took a deep breath, breathing in Faith’s sleepy scent.

“This,” she whispered, opening her eyes and looking at Mulder. “This moment, this past hour, this is my high of the day.”

He smiled and reached for her hand, connecting the three of them. She closed her eyes again and squeezed his hand gently, wishing she could freeze this moment and stay there forever.

“Mama,” Faith breathed in her sleep and Scully smiled softly. She knew she could never truly freeze time, as much as she may want to make it happen.

Tomorrow would arrive, the sun rising and taking this night away with it, but it would be remembered; by the brightness of the moon, the richness of the red wine, the taste of Mulder’s kiss, a treehouse room full of color samples, and the warmth of the little girl in her arms.

Let tomorrow come, she thought, kissing the top of Faith’s head again and sighing a happy smile.

Tomorrow they had a wish to fulfill, with a visit to the hardware store, and a rainbow selection of paint to bring home.

[artificialqueens]

Aquaria Goes To Kindergarten (Shalaska, Sharon-Aquaria) - Joanne

A/N: Please be kind, this is my first ever fic. So, basically, I’m total shalaska trash, and I needed more mom!Sharon and decided to take matters into my own hands. Pure fluff, obviously.

Summary: Somehow, Aquaria, Sharon’s tiny baby daughter, was ready for her first day of kindergarten. But was Sharon ready? Tune in to find out.

Well, It had finally happened. The day had finally come when Aquaria was to start kindergarten. Sharon had thought for certain that Aquaria was going to wake up at the crack of dawn, or maybe even earlier, out of excitement for her big day, and that Sharon would have to force herself out of bed to get ready to take her.

Instead, Sharon had woken up around four a.m., after tossing and turning most of the night with anxiety. She was wrapped in her old worn-out fleece robe with little black bats on it, bags under her eyes, drinking her third cup of coffee at the kitchen counter, staring into space, thinking a mile a minute.

What if she’s too mature to fit in with the other kids? What if they don’t understand her? What if I forgot to teach her something important that she should know? What if they ask about her daddy, and she won’t know what to say?

Sharon couldn’t stop her thoughts from spiraling. She couldn’t believe that her beautiful blonde baby was already five, ready to go to school. How has the time gone by so fast?

Having Aquaria had by no means been in Sharon’s “5 year plan” when she was a 20-year-old college student. Sharon was a pretty quiet, albeit kind of goth, philosophy major when she got pregnant after a relatively uneventful one-night-stand with a boy from her class. When she found out she was pregnant, her parents disowned her. She ended up dropping out of school, and went to working full time at her coffee shop gig, lonely and afraid.

She never told the boy, the father of her child, Aquaria’s biological father. She never particularly liked him anyway, and she could not foresee herself sharing the baby growing inside her with some boring kid she wasn’t in love with.

And so it had been just the two of them. Sharon bounced from one aimless job to the next, and Aquaria spent her days waiting for her beloved mommy to pick her up from daycare. Sharon tried her hardest to provide for and occasionally spoil her daughter, even if that meant Sharon had to sometimes go to work without breakfast, or put off getting the oil changed in her beat up old car.

At the end of the day, however, Sharon and Aquaria were happy. Sharon didn’t know she could love someone like she loved her daughter, and Aquaria thought that her mom hung the moon. They were both perfectly content with each other and the little life they shared.

And so when the day came for Aquaria to sign up for kindergarten, Sharon was a wreck. It hadn’t quite dawned on her that her baby daughter was going to grow up, especially so fast. She cried in her car, parked in the Orchid Grove Elementary visitor parking lot, for what felt like an hour after signing her daughter away. Sharon wasn’t ready.

Sharon, still lost in her thoughts, was awoken by the alarm on her phone on the counter. Shit. 7am. Time to get ready for school.

She tiptoed down the hall to Aquaria’s room, turning on the pink ballerina lamp when she entered. Sharon gently sat on the side of Aquaria’s little twin bed and looked down at her sleeping daughter. Aquaria’s long eyelashes, pink cheeks, and wispy blonde hair made her look like a little doll. She really was still Sharon’s baby, as much as either of them pretended otherwise.

Sharon softly ran her fingers through Aquaria’s fine hair, and her eyelashes began to flutter open.

“Guess what day it is, my pretty,” Sharon sing-songily whispered in her daughter’s ear. She slowly opened her eyes, looking groggy.

“Mama, I’m still sleepy.”

Aquaria was starting to get lulled back to sleep by Sharon’s comforting hand in her hair. Sharon got closer to her little ear, and whispered, “Aquaria, today’s the day! It’s the first day of school.”

Aquaria’s eyes shot open wide and she sat straight up. “Ah! Mama, I forgot! It’s time for kindergarten! Kindergarten, kindergarten!” She squealed and jumped around the dimly lit room in her pajamas, going 0 to 60. Sharon smiled at her, but inside, the butterflies in her stomach did somersaults.

On the car ride there, Aquaria’s display of excitement had vanished. She looked the part, with her hair in curled pigtails and wearing her new polka dot dress, but she stared silently in front of her, brows furrowed.

“Aquaria, baby, are you excited?” Sharon tried. She could tell Aquaria was nervous, but she herself wasn’t in much better shape. She stopped at a stoplight and looked at Aquaria in the backseat.

In the tiniest voice imaginable, Aquaria managed a forced “umhmm” and a little nod, eyes wide. Sharon’s heart sank. She wanted to turn the car around and go home and watch cartoons with her baby in her arms on the couch. Neither of them were ready, and yet they were almost there.

When Sharon parked in that same Orchid Grove Elementary visitor parking lot where she had cried before, she turned to look at Aquaria. “Listen, baby, I know you’re nervous, but there really isn’t anything to be nervous about. You’re gonna make so many new friends, and learn so much, and have so much fun.”

Aquaria stared into Sharon’s eyes, and a single giant tear fell from one of her eyes, and she began to pout. Sharon jumped out of the car and into the back seat, scooping Aquaria out of her car seat and into her lap.

“Oh, baby. I know you’re scared. But you’re gonna do so good.”

Aquaria cried some more tears onto her mother’s shoulder, trying to catch her breath from her sobbing. Sharon held her at arms’ reach and looked into her eyes. Aquaria sniffled a few times, trying to silence herself.

“I know you can do it. You’re such a big girl now. And I am gonna be right there when the day is over, and then we can even go get ice cream.”

By now, the tears had stopped, and little Aquaria seemed to have calmed down some. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she still looked a little worried, but there was a new sense of determination on her little face. Sharon led her out of the car and helped her grab her backpack and lunch kit. As they walked towards the school, hand in hand, Sharon gave Aquaria’s hand a little squeeze of reassurance, something she learned from her own mother long ago. Sharon wonders what her family would think of her life now; of Aquaria in her little polka dot dress.

Sharon walked Aquaria into the school, and they were lead down the kindergarten hallway. On the wall was a list of the classroom each student was in, and Aquaria’s name was under the one listed Ms. Thunder- Room 102. They found the right room, and walked in to find lots of other new kindergarteners and their parents running around the room chaotically, finding the right monogrammed pencil boxes or places to put their backpacks. Sharon and Aquaria were equally overwhelmed as they looked at each other, and Sharon quickly forced a smile of reassurance.

They made their way to a place at a little table marked with Aquaria’s name, and Sharon knelt next to her daughter who sat in her new seat. “What do you think, baby? Don’t some of these kids look like they’ll make good friends?”

Aquaria didn’t respond, her eyes darting all around her with so much to look at. Moms, dads, little siblings, students who occasionally looked as nervous as Aquaria herself. Sharon too found it hard to not watch the bustle of people, the fancy women talking to each other with their doting husbands behind them. She felt out of place in her black jeans and combat boots, and without another parent to accompany her.

As they looked around them at all of the chattering people, a long, slender hand with pale pink nails reached across the table, accompanied with a chipper “And you must be miss Aquaria Needles! How are you doing this exciting morning?”

Aquaria shook her hand hesitantly as she and Sharon looked up. It was the most angelic yet alien looking woman Sharon had ever seen. She had long straight blonde hair half up, and a long flowy floral dress on. She smiled down at them sweetly.

“I’m your new teacher, Ms. Thunder! It’s so nice to meet you, Aquaria. We’re going to have a great year. Are you excited to be a kindergartener?” Aquaria forced a quiet smile at the tall woman in front of her.

Sharon stood up from Aquaria’s table and shook Ms. Thunder’s hand. “Hi. I’m Sharon Needles, Aquaria’s mom.” Ms. Thunder smiled at Sharon, her eyes sparkling. “So nice to meet you,” she said softly.

Quietly, so as to not let her daughter sitting below them hear, Sharon said, “Aquaria’s pretty nervous about school starting. There were a few tears shed on the way here this morning.”

Alaska’s brows furrowed a little as she looked back down at Aquaria, and then back up to Sharon. “That’s pretty normal for new kindergarten students. It is a big stepping stone into big kid-hood. I’ll keep an extra eye on her these first couple of days, but I’m sure she’ll have a fantastic time.”

Sharon immediately was put at ease with Alaska’s words. “Thank you so much, that makes me feel a lot better.”

Alaska smiled again at her. “Of course. And in case you have any more concerns, let me give you my cellphone number if you need to contact me for anything. Don’t hesitate.”

Alaska grabbed a red crayon from a bin on the table, and tore off a small piece of construction paper from a nearby shelf of supplies. She knelt down across from Aquaria, quickly writing down her name and number. She stood up and handed the piece of paper to Sharon.

“It was so nice to meet you,” she said, a slight hint of flirtation in her soft voice. Sharon soon found herself standing dumbfounded with the slip of paper in her hands as Ms. Thunder was whisked away to help another student find his seat.

After finally saying goodbye to an anxious Aquaria, Sharon soon once again found herself in her car in the Orchid Grove Elementary visitor parking lot. She stared ahead past the steering wheel and let out a long exhale. My baby is a kindergartener.

As she went to put her car in reverse, she remembered the slip of paper poking out of her purse. She unfolded it to find “Alaska Thunder- (412) 555-0168” written in crayon. Sharon chuckled to herself at how on brand it was for a kindergarten teacher. Construction paper and crayon.

Alaska, Sharon thought. Ms. Alaska Thunder.

Around noon, Sharon was starting to get antsy at work, wondering about how Aquaria’s day was going. Her mind was off track, and she kept delivering food to the wrong tables and having to have customers repeat their orders for her. As her shift lagged on, her performance was getting worse and worse.

When it finally got to her break at 12:30, she found herself holding her phone and the little piece of construction paper with Alaska’s number on it. She thought about not bothering her, but then she also remembered how upset Aquaria was that morning. She had never been away from Sharon for quite that long, and she was worried she was having separation anxiety.

Sharon weighed the odds, and finally decided to text Alaska. She did say to not hesitate, after all. She put in her contact, and started typing her message.

Sharon: Hi, Ms. Thunder. Sorry to bother you. It’s Aquaria Needles’ mom, Sharon. I just wanted to see how the day was going and if Aquaria was still nervous or upset.

Sharon opened the diet coke she had brought with her outside for her break, and tried to relax as she waited for a response. Almost immediately after she put her phone back in her pocket, it buzzed.

Alaska: Hey Sharon! The day has gone swimmingly so far. Aquaria has settled in wonderfully, and she doesn’t seem anxious at all anymore. It’s after-lunch nap time right now, and she is sound asleep on her nap mat next to her new friend Brianna.

Sharon smiled at the news that Aquaria had made a friend. Thank God, she thought.

Sharon: That’s great! Thank you so much for the update. I’ve been worried about her all day.

Sharon took another sip of diet coke, and a new message came through.

Alaska: I’m so glad I was able to make you feel better. See you this afternoon for dismissal!

Sharon put her phone away, pleased, and headed back to work.

It very quickly became time for her to go pick up Aquaria, and as she excitedly drove to the school, her phone started ringing. Her caller ID said it was Alaska.

“Hi, Ms. Thunder. Dismissal is at 3, correct? I’m not late am I? I’m on my way to the school righ-”

Alaska interrupted her hesitantly. “Hi, Sharon…  you aren’t late yet. I… umm… I’m afraid there’s been an accident here on the playground at school. Aquaria has fallen off the monkey bars and hurt her arm pretty badly.”

Sharon’s heart sank. “Oh my God, is she okay?!”

“She’s fine, but she should probably get it checked out. She’s in the nurse’s office, so you should go straight there.”

“I will, okay, thank you so much for calling, Alask- Ms. Thunder.”

“Of course. Keep me updated if you will. I’m so sorry.”

Sharon sped into that all too familiar parking lot, and made a beeline into the front of the school.

“Where’s the nurse’s office? My baby is hurt,” Sharon bluntly greeted the receptionist.

“Are you Aquaria’s mom? Poor little thing. She’s in the nurse’s office. Right this way.”

The receptionist led a nerve-wracked Sharon down a slender corridor and into a little makeshift nurse’s office. On the medical bed sat a quietly crying Aquaria nestled in Alaska’s arms, across from an older lady who was presumably the nurse.

Sharon knelt in front of her daughter and cupped her cheeks in her hands. She looked at Alaska worriedly. “Aquaria! Baby! What happened? Are you okay? Tell me everything!”

Aquaria sat up a little, seemingly already less upset now that Sharon had made it there. “I was doing the monkey bars for the very first time with my friend Brianna and then I slipped and fell on my arm and it hurts really, really, really bad.” She tried to gesture with her arms the magnitude of how really, really bad it hurt, and winced when she moved her hurt arm.

“Oh, baby…” Sharon carefully picked up her daughter out of Ms. Thunder’s arms, being extra careful with her hurt arm. As she did so, she looked over Aquaria’s shoulder and mouthed a sincere “thank you so much” to a sweetly smiling Alaska.

Alaska chimed in, “Aquaria was such a big girl climbing on the monkey bars, and then she was so brave after she got hurt, you should be really proud.”

Sharon looked at Aquaria. “You have had a big day, haven’t you Aquaria? And now we should probably go get your arm checked out at the doctor, so it’s not over yet.”

After a couple minutes, Alaska stood up from the bed and lovingly touched Aquaria’s shoulder.

“Alright, ladies, I better get back to my class. Principal Monsoon probably has more important work to do than watch my class watch Magic School Bus. Aquaria, I hope you feel better super soon, sweetie. I can’t wait to have you back at school!”

Aquaria hugged Alaska around the waist with her not-hurt arm. Looking up at her, she quietly proclaimed, “Thank you for taking care of me, Ms. Thunder. I’m so glad you’re my teacher.”

Alaska smiled down at her and responded with an equally quiet, “I’m so glad too.”

Aquaria suddenly winced again, and turning to Sharon, said, “Ok, mama, I think it’s time to go to the doctor now.”

After a painful and emotional car ride to the hospital, Sharon and Aquaria were sat in a semi-crowded waiting room at the emergency room. Aquaria was flipping through an issue of Vogue, looking at the pictures, and Sharon mostly stared at her.

“I’m so sorry your first day went so wrongly, babydoll. I never would have guessed we’d end up here today.”

Aquaria didn’t look up from her magazine. “It’s ok, mama. I should have been more careful. Just because I am a big kid who goes to kindergarten doesn’t mean I don’t need to be careful anymore.”

Sharon smiled at her. “That’s a great point, my pretty.”

Just as she finished speaking, her phone buzzed.

Alaska: Have you gotten any results or anything back yet? Is it broken? Does she need to have a cast? How is she feeling?

Sharon: We’re still in the waiting room, unfortunately. She’s in pretty good spirits, though.

Alaska: Sorry for my overbearing questions. I’m just worried about her. That was a pretty bad fall, and I know those monkey bars are no joke from personal experience.

Sharon: Thank you so much for your concern. And… personal experience?

Alaska: Oh… uhm… I was testing them out? For the kids?

Sharon: Ha, sure, ok.

Sharon chuckles to herself. Aquaria, still not looking up, says, “what’re you laughing at, mama?”

“Oh, nothing, ladybug. Ms. Thunder just said something funny.” Aquaria looks up at Sharon now.

“I like Ms. Thunder,” Aquaria says matter-of-factly, “she’s funny and nice, and when I hurt my arm, she carried me all the way to the nurse’s office and held me the whole entire time, just like you do when I don’t feel good.”

“That’s great, baby,” Sharon smiled, “I like her too.”

Just as they fell into another comfortable silence, Aquaria’s name was called to see the doctor.

The doctor said that she did indeed break her forearm, and that she needed a cast. Aquaria’s main concern, however, was picking the perfect shade for her cast to be.

“I think I am going to pick this beautiful light pink, mama.”

“That is beautiful! But isn’t your favorite color green? Do you want it to be a green cast?”

Aquaria stared at the pink swatch in front of her.

“No, I like this color the best. It is the same one as Ms. Thunder’s nails, and they’re super pretty.”

Sharon laughed lightly. “Okay, babydoll. Whichever you want!”

On the drive home, Aquaria finally told her mom about all the fun things that went on in kindergarten before the dreadful monkey bar incident. She explained how Ms. Thunder taught them songs about nature and counting, about how her friend Brianna sat by her at lunch, and about how there was a mean girl named Eureka that made Brianna cry.

When they finally got home, Sharon finally sat down and got a chance to update Alaska. She told her all about the diagnosis, about how she chose the color of her cast, and Aquaria’s emotional state. Alaska then asked if they needed anything.

Sharon: Oh, no no no. You’ve helped so much already, you don’t even know.

Alaska: Well thank you, but I’m just doing my job! Do you guys at least have something to eat for dinner?

Dinner? Sharon looked at the time. It was already 7pm. Ugh. Shit.

Sharon: Woah, I thought it was like 4. I’m sure I can scrounge up something that will suffice. Thank you again, though

Alaska: You both have had such a crazy day. Let me bring something over, please. It is no problem at all, seriously.

Sharon: No way, that’s way too much trouble!

Alaska: Please, I insist! Just give me your address and I’ll be over asap

Sharon felt a twang of giddiness wash over her. She looked over at Aquaria playing with her barbies on the living room floor (one handed), and smiled. What a crazy day it was turning out to be.

About 20 minutes later, the doorbell rang. Sharon opened it up to Alaska holding four giant bags of food.

“Hi! Thank you for letting me bring dinner! I hope you guys like Chinese food. Also, I hope there’s room in your freezer.” She opened up one of the bags to reveal a half-gallon of vanilla ice cream.

“Oh my god, did Aquaria tell you we had planned to get ice cream after school? I had totally forgotten with everything else going on. Thank you so much!”

Sharon, Aquaria, and Alaska ate and laughed around Sharon’s tiny breakfast table, until there was no Chinese food left and only a little bit of ice cream. They discussed the events of the school day, what happened at the emergency room, the color of Aquaria’s cast, about Alaska’s cat, Poundcake, and her antics. Eventually, Sharon put on a movie for Aquaria, and went back to the table to chat with Alaska.

“So, I’m assuming that not every teacher Aquaria is gonna have is going to bring dinner after the first day of school.”

Alaska laughed. “Probably not, unfortunately.”

“Thank you so much, again. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Getting Chinese takeout is my first day of school tradition, and I’m happy to share it with someone.”

Sharon smiled at her gratefully, then glanced across to see that Aquaria had fallen asleep on the couch.

“We’re happy to have you as well. Even if you don’t bring dinner and ice cream.”

Eventually, it was time for Alaska to head home. Sharon led her to the door, where they both stopped in the doorframe.

“Thank you so much, Alaska. We both had fun, we should do it again.”

“Absolutely! I hope Aquaria feels better soon. She’s had a big day.”

They pause, looking at each other intently. Alaska speaks first.

“Well, I’ll see you both bright and early for day 2 of kindergarten. Have a good night.”

“Good night, Alaska.”

Alaska turns and walks down the first couple steps up Sharon’s front porch. Suddenly she turns, as if having forgotten something. As she opens her mouth to speak, Sharon leaves the threshold and runs towards Alaska, planting a chaste kiss on her lips. They both have frenzied butterflies in their stomachs.

They break apart, again staring intently at each other. This time Sharon breaks the silence.

“See you in the morning, Ms. Thunder.”

Alaska smiles a hazy, blushed grin, and slowly turns to walk to her car, as Sharon watches from the doorframe. Maybe kindergarten wasn’t going to be so frightening after all.

[youreverycolor]

An Unlikely Love: Text Wars (Rafael Barba x Anna Stein)

AN: NSFW AT ALL. No prompt for this one. I just got in another mood. This is 100% pure filth. Please enjoy some masturbation, orgasm denial, spanking, sexting, oral sex, and good old fashioned fucking.

So much love to @madpanda75, @thatesqcrush, and @misssirenlove for love, support, idea-bouncing, and being frigging awesome. Can’t talk about smut and kinks with just anyone, you know.

Tagging: @danahart1 @nikkijmorgan @ele-esposito @dianilaws @sunnyfortomorrow @mommakat32 @lucifersadvisor @gibbs274 @oliviamariathegirl @evee87 @tropes-and-tales @garturbo @delia26 @neely1177 @jennisdirtyimagines @lostintech0011001 @letty-o @lucifersadvisor @sunnyfortomorrow @literallyprentissstwin @gibbs274 @dianilaws

Song: “Buttons” by The Pussycat Dolls (and you’re really gonna wanna listen to this one).

~*~*~*~  

It wasn’t even eleven o’clock and already Rafael’s day had made him pop four Advil. Nothing was ever easy anymore. Every case SVU brought him had some kind of glaring problem, from a lack of DNA to a non-complying witness, to a non-complaining victim. The latest one was against a frat house on Hudson University’s campus—again­—and, per usual, the school had covered it up. The victim had showered, no rape kit was performed. He hated telling Olivia that he couldn’t prosecute, but it seemed like that’s exactly what he would have to do. So, not an auspicious start to his day. He also had a hearing during which he suspected he was going to get metaphorically spanked by Judge Bates for filing an indictment prematurely. That was going to be a real slice.

Anna’s text tone broke the silence of his office. She was at home that day; her only class had been canceled so she had decided to spend the afternoon catching up on a novel. Expecting nothing more than a brief check-in, he opened the message and almost dropped the phone. He was looking at a photo of her, taken in a mirror. She was turned halfway around, dressed in one of his white button-downs, which she had rucked up just enough that he caught a glimpse of pink polka-dot cheeky panties. The accompanying text message was infuriating. How do I look? it read.

He immediately typed out a response, short and sweet. I’m at work, you know.

Thirty seconds later, the phone pinged again. You didn’t answer my question.

He groaned. This was a game, he knew, and she was winning it. This isn’t funny! I have a hearing in forty minutes and now all I’m going to be able to think about is fucking you.

He could almost feel her arousal from across town when she replied. I’ve been thinking about that all day.

He did not understand how just seven words could make him so painfully hard. Well, two could play at this game. You better still be wearing that shirt when I get home. If I have to suffer here all day like this, then I want the full visual later.

He didn’t get an immediate response to that and thought perhaps she was done tormenting him. He thought wrong. I’ll keep it on if you promise to get home on time. Otherwise, I might have to take care of myself via battery-powered means.

Then, a second photo came in. This one was full-frontal. She had undone all but the center button of the shirt, and he could see the outline of her breasts through it—especially her hardened nipples.

He almost came in his pants right there, but he wasn’t about to let her know that. Batteries aren’t the only thing that can keep going and going. I can and WILL keep you up all night. Don’t tempt me.

She sent one more text that made him grit his teeth. I hope so, Guapo. See you tonight.

It was only then that he realized that the front of his pants was actually developing a damp spot. What the hell was he going to do about this? The hearing was in half an hour, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand up properly. The photo was burned into his brain; even if he didn’t look at it again, it would still be there, as would the promise she made of keeping it on when he got home.

He looked at his closed door. Carmen was just on the other side of it, but the blinds were drawn. She couldn’t see in.

It was completely inappropriate, he realized, but he didn’t think he could wait until he got home. Not that that meant he wouldn’t want to fuck Anna just as badly—one glance at her wearing that shirt in person would no doubt make him immediately hard again—but trying to make it through the next six hours without a release would be impossible.

He got up from his desk, still hard as a rock, and locked the door. Then, he sat back down and unzipped his pants, pulling them down just past his hips so he didn’t accidentally leave evidence of his crime. He spit in his hand and rubbed the fluid leaking out of his cock over the head. It provided just enough lubrication to get him going. His closed his eyes and as he suspected, the image of Anna in those panties and his shirt was right there. When she acted like this, wanton and needy, he felt like he was twenty years old again—which would certainly explain why he was in his office, unable to keep his libido in check for even a few more hours.

He sometimes couldn’t believe he had a gorgeous twenty-five-year-old woman who loved him, much less one who sent him racy photos and texts during his workday. Even though he tried to pretend that he was irritated by it, he knew how lucky he was. And there it was—that image again, except this time, all she was wearing were those panties. God, the way her ass looked in them. But what he wouldn’t give to be able to pull them off of her, throw her on top of his desk, and fuck her hard enough to move it halfway across the room.

His hand moved up and down his length, twisting at the base, squeezing harder at the head. Suddenly, the Anna in his mind was on her knees in front of him, looking up with big, blue eyes—and still wearing that shirt. Her hair spilled down her shoulders and he wrapped his hand in it, pulling her toward his cock. She accepted him eagerly, taking him slowly in until she had him fully in her mouth. She hollowed her cheeks and, at the same time, ran her tongue up the front, which never failed to shoot lightning through his entire body.

The biggest difference between Anna and the other women he’d been with was that she actually enjoyed having him in her mouth. She told him so, often. And she was so good at it; he had no idea where she’d learned to do half the things she could do with her mouth, but he was more than grateful to be the one reaping the benefits. And her hands, Christ, she would use her hands on him at the same time, doing to him exactly what he was doing to himself.

He felt the tension in his thighs increasing, the way it did every time he entered her for the first time. Sometimes even just one thrust was enough to make him cum—he had to focus on first-year property law to keep it from happening. He imagined sinking into her from behind—his favorite position when he just wanted to fuck her senseless—and feeling her involuntarily tighten around him. His cock felt heavier in his hand then, like all the blood in his body had pooled there. He was close, so close. And then, he swore he heard her voice in his head, saying the dirtiest things imaginable: “Fuck, you’re so big, my God!” “¡Damelo duro! Ahora!” “Adie me lo das como tu.”

He was pumping faster now, gripping his cock like his life depended on it. He used his other hand to cup his balls, feeling them tighten slowly under his touch. Fuck, he thought, please, please, please…

It wasn’t until he thought about her wearing his shirt while he was fucking her—pulling her up toward him, pressing her back against his chest, rubbing her clit for her while he hammered into her—that he felt the familiar sensation of heat rushing to his core.

And then, suddenly, his office phone rang and startled him so much that he jumped in his chair. He grabbed the for it and tried to return his breathing to a normal rate before he said hello.

“Mr. Barba, this is Judge Bates’ clerk. The hearing was scheduled to start ten minutes ago, and defense counsel and the judge are waiting on you. Is everything okay?”

Rafael looked at the clock. It was half past eleven. “Yes, I’ll—I’m sorry, there was an—a personal—I’ll be there in five minutes,” he stuttered.

Fuck! he thought. And that, he knew, was exactly what he intended to do the second he walked through his door that night. He hastily pulled up his pants and used the hand sanitizer on his desk. Then, he grabbed his briefcase and whipped out his phone with the other hand. Just before he unlocked his office door, he sent a final message to Anna.

Anna was lounging in the bedroom with her novel, still wearing nothing but Rafael’s shirt and her panties, when she got his text. She lifted her phone and opened the message, heart beating faster as she read four little words.

You asked for it.

***

Anna heard the door slam from the bedroom and her heart leapt into her throat. She threw the book onto the nightstand and got up, legs shaking in anticipation. She knew she had worked him up beyond what she had even expected, just based on that last text he had sent. And that had been hours ago—he had the entire day to stew about it. She had only just made it to the bedroom door when he appeared in front of her. His suit coat, shoes, socks, and tie had been discarded along the hallway, leaving him in just his pants, shirt, and suspenders. His face was set to what she called Courtroom Dom: serious, brow furrowed just a bit, jaw set. But there was one difference—she had never seen his eyes so bright and so dark at the same time.

She momentarily wondered if he was as nervous as she was underneath all that bluster, but before she could think on it, he pushed her against the bedroom door, lifting her up by her thighs. She was always surprised at how strong he was; she was small, of course, but no one else she had been with was ever able to hold her up like this. Maybe that was why she found it so unbelievably hot. He kissed her, hard, like he was drunk on her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and could feel his erection straining against his pants.

“Too many clothes,” she finally managed to moan, trying to slip his suspenders off of his shoulders.

“You don’t get to dictate anything right now, cariño,” he replied. “Not after that stunt you pulled today.”

She smiled innocently. “I didn’t do anything you didn’t like.”

He set her down and took one of her hands and pressed it against his crotch. “Do you feel that? That’s been like that most of the day thanks to you.”

Her breath came quicker, and she felt wetness pool in her panties. “How terrible for you.”

He kept her hand on him, pushing into her as he kissed her neck feverishly. “I was late to my hearing because of you.”

“I don’t see how that’s my fault,” she cooed. The innocence in her voice contrasted with the sexual tension between them was almost too much for him. He spun her around and moved them into the bedroom, pressing her chest against a nearby wall. His fingers were on her hips, grabbing them so hard she was sure she would bruise. She didn’t care.

His teeth grazed her shoulder. “You got me so fucking worked up that I had to lock myself in my office and jerk off just to get some relief. Do you know how inappropriate that was?”

She decided to be deliberately combative. She almost wanted punishment at this point. “You jerking off in your office or me sending you photos?”

He bit down on the junction between her neck and shoulder then. She felt like she might combust. “I have some bad news for you.”

“What’s that?” she asked as his fingers left her hips. One hand trailed down her stomach to the front of her panties, while the other reached under her shirt to palm a breast.

He put his lips right next to her ear and lowered his voice almost an octave. “I didn’t have time to finish. Which means you’re about to get good and fucked.”

She turned her head back to look over her shoulder at him. “What makes you think that’s not what I wanted?”

“Enough games,” he growled. He picked her up and all but tossed her onto the bed behind them. She crawled backward toward the pillows and looked at him exactly the way she had in his fantasy earlier: pupils dilated, lashes lowered, lips pouted just so. That look along with the real-life recreation of the photos she’d sent him earlier was hotter than it even was in his head. He made short work of the rest of his clothes and stood at the side of the bed. “Over here. On your knees.”

They had a safe word—Pennoyer—and she knew that all she would have to do to stop this game would be to say it. But it was precisely because of that fact that she didn’t want to stop. She loved rediscovering her sexuality with him as well as discovering new parts of herself that she didn’t know existed. For instance, she didn’t know that one of her kinks would be giving him a blowjob while he ate her out—especially when he was on top of her—until they did it, and suddenly, it was the hottest thing in the world. She didn’t know sex could be this fulfilling, even as he ordered her to her knees in front of him.

“Yes, sir,” she said.

She crawled over to him obediently, surrendering to him completely. But she didn’t wait for him to tell her what to do. She’d wanted this all day, and despite what he’d said about not being able to dictate anything, she somehow suspected he wouldn’t complain. Without any further prompting, she took him into her mouth, immediately moaning around him. The reverberation from that moan sent his hand into her hair—again, just as he had in his fantasy—and he groaned above her. She gripped his cock at the base, stroking him in time with her mouth’s slow movements, almost torturous.

“Fuuuuck,” he hissed. “Do you have any idea how hard I got thinking about you doing this?”

She moaned again. Her panties were practically soaked through by that point, and with his dirty talk, she didn’t think she could get wetter. Except she could, because then she looked up to him only to find him looking back at her. Her lips wrapped around him was indescribably sexy, but he knew what would make it sexier. He grabbed the shirt she was wearing and hiked it up, revealing those damned polka-dot panties and her tight ass underneath them.

She pulled away for just a moment, lips swollen with the exertion. “Is that what you were imagining today? My lips around your cock?”

Before he could answer, though, she went right back to what she was doing, taking him into her mouth completely. He gasped and nearly fell forward, bracing himself on the headboard with one hand. And then, just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, one of her hands moved lightly up his inner thigh and he felt her fingers press against his perineum.

“Jesus Christ,” he roared. That hadn’t been in his fantasy, nor would he have ever thought to imagine it. The sheer intensity of just the lightest pressure there drowned him in pleasure, and he had to practically shove her away before he exploded in her mouth. “Holy shit,” he gasped. “What were you just doing to me?”

She licked her lips. “Again, nothing you didn’t want.”

His expression darkened again. “Oh, mi querida, you have no idea what I want. But I’m going to show you.” Without warning, he flipped her onto her back and crashed his lips to hers again. He swirled his tongue against hers, dragged it along her lips occasionally as he gently pinched one of her nipples. She squealed with delightful pain. He pulled back and looked her directly in the eyes. “You have a choice. Slow”—he dragged his tongue up her neck, over her throat—“or hard.” Then, he pulled her toward him as he leaned back, as if he was at prayer between her thighs. Off the panties came, flung over his shoulder to God knows where. He waited for her answer before he made another move. “Use your words, Anna. I need to hear the words.”

She was panting by that point, almost unable to form coherent thoughts, and he was asking her to make decisions? She managed one word: “Hard.”

He pushed her legs roughly apart and before she knew it, his mouth was everywhere: her thighs, her folds, her clit. She was so turned on that it all felt good. He lapped at her so ferociously that she was surprised he could breathe. When he dipped his tongue inside her, his nose brushed against her clit and she was so worked up that she might have orgasmed just from that if he hadn’t stopped. “What are you doing?” she whined. “Don’t stop!”

He licked his lips sinfully. “When I was in my office, I didn’t get to cum because I was interrupted,” he said, voice as dark as his expression. “It’s only fair that you should have to wait.”

Glorious bastard, she thought. But she knew how to get her way. “Please,” she gasped. “Please, please, Rafael. I need it. I need your mouth. I need you.”

Try as he might, he couldn’t resist her when she said she needed him. It was primal and sensual at once, like she was telling him there was no one else who could do this to her, and no one else she wanted to do it. And the truth was, he enjoyed licking her as much as she enjoyed letting him. He sat up just a bit on his haunches and pulled her hips up so that she was almost arched off of the bed. Well, she thought, this is new.

She didn’t have time to think anything more than that, because he moved his mouth back over her, this time sucking her clit and flicking it with his tongue at the same time. She started to quake from the toes on upward, and then she was splintering apart, undone by his mouth, undone by him. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m—oh, God, I’m coming!” He let her ride the waves of her orgasm, holding onto her hips so that he could keep fucking her with his tongue. The rush of liquid that came from within her was one of the sweetest things he’d ever tasted.

As Anna came down from her high, she was convinced of it—even if someone else did exactly what he was doing, it wouldn’t make her cum as hard, simply because it wouldn’t be him. It wasn’t the physical act of sex; Rafael was what made it so good. “You—you have no idea—how amazing—” she sobbed. He crawled back over her and kissed her once again, letting her taste herself on his lips. She drank him in, helpless beneath him, only able to run her hands through his hair and down his back.

“I have some idea,” he murmured against her ear. “Now, you have another choice. Do you want me to take you from behind, or do you want to ride me?”

After the orgasm she’d just had, she literally didn’t have the energy to ride him. “Get behind me,” she replied, giving him one last furious kiss.

She got to her knees with some effort—her legs were still shaking—and she felt him come up behind her, pressing just the head of his erection against her folds. He rubbed it back and forth over her already sensitive clit. She mewled in response, just wanting to feel him inside her.

Now he had her where he wanted her. She may have won the battle earlier that day, but he would certainly win the war. “You’re wetter than you’ve ever been, mi querida. Have you been this way all day?”

She lowered her upper body so that her ass was even higher in the air. That resulted in a firm smack against one of her cheeks, which only served to deepen her need. “You know, you talked about wanting to fuck me since this afternoon. So fuck me already! I’ve been waiting for it all damn day!”

He didn’t have to be told twice. With one swift movement, he plunged into her. It was better than fantasy, better than memory, better than anything. There was nothing like being inside her. He stilled for a moment to let her adjust to him, but when she looked over her shoulder at him, he pulled back out nearly all the way. She whined desperately, full of so much need and want and lust and love that she could barely breathe from it. But then he gave her what she craved—he set a steady, unforgiving pace, hitting the deepest parts of her with every thrust. She grasped the sheets underneath her, holding on for dear life as he snapped his hips against her. Every so often he would give her ass another smack and she would cry out with the pain and pleasure of it.

“This is what I thought about,” he snarled. “Pounding into your pussy, watching your ass, making you scream.”

She couldn’t respond. She just held on and focused on her heartbeat, her breathing, the feeling of him filling her up entirely. The entire room was filled with the smell of sex—it was intoxicating and was giving him almost a high. And that was when he remembered the last image he had before his fantasy had been ripped away from him.

He leaned forward just slightly and wrapped an arm around her waist, hoisting her straight up and sitting back on his heels so that she could be on top of his cock at the same time as he was behind her. Her shirt—his shirt—was pressed against his chest, still fastened by just one button, the fabric rubbing against his skin as she fucked herself on his throbbing dick. He was actually living his fantasy from earlier; the mere thought of that was enough to unravel him, but he held on, waiting for her.

He moved her hair away from one of her shoulders and bit down on the back of her neck, sending shockwaves through her core. They were both thinking it—this was, without a doubt, the hottest thing they had ever done together, and that was saying something.

There was a familiar tingling between her thighs. Everything faded away except the feeling of him inside her, still mercilessly thrusting as he reached down and rubbed her clit furiously. She found her voice just long enough to scream his name before time simply ceased to exist and stars burst behind her eyes.

He fucked her through her orgasm, and felt his start to build, just as it had that afternoon. Except this time, there would be no phone to interrupt him. Nothing could have pulled him away from her. And then he felt something shatter inside himself, along with a jerking of his cock inside her.

“Anna—Anna, oh God, oh my God, Anna!” he cried, practically screaming her name. Everything tightened, and he held her in place by her hips, thrusting into her one last time. She contracted her muscles around him, deliberately milking every last drop of him, which only served to drag his orgasm out even longer. And then they both collapsed, falling next to each other, completely and utterly incapable of moving. “That—oh, God, Anna,” he gasped, clutching his chest to make sure his heart was still inside of it. “That was the hardest I’ve ever come in my entire life.”

She was breathing just as heavily and gazing up at him, pleased with herself. The façade of Courtroom Dom was gone; once she could think clearly, she needed to come up with a name for this look in case she ever saw it again. For the time being, she would settle for gloating. “Was it worth the wait?”

He found the strength to roll onto his side and, with a hand on her lower back, pull her toward him. Then he kissed her, just as passionately as he had when he walked in the door. “Of every fantasy I have ever had,” he said, “you are the one that’s always worth waiting for.”

[queenslasharchive]

Believe

A gift for @chaoskirin, never stop believing. 

“I believe in Santa Claus

Like I believe in love

I believe in Santa Claus

And everything he does

There’s no question in my mind

That he does exist

Just like love I know he’s there

Waiting to be missed…”

A long long time ago, in the land of ice and snow, there was once an ivory-haired foundling left on the steps of a winsome little cottage in the center of an ever-wintery forest. 

Why ever-wintery you may ask? 

Well, it was a place where snowflakes never stopped falling, where rivers never broke apart into grue. A place where it could be Christmas Day all year round, everything imbued with a certain sort of magic. 

That little cottage in the wood, made of strong sturdy arctic firs and draped with gossamer strings of icicles, the sort that almost looked like the trailing strings of fairy-lights and tinsel, to grace the pine boughs of a Christmas tree decades later… belonged to a family of tiny elves by the name of Kringle, toymakers by trade and a burgeoning family by choice. 

They called their new baby boy, Nicholas. 

The world would come to know him as Saint Nicholas, Santa Claus, and Kris Kringle. 

But three wan boys with big dreams and empty pockets, would come to know him as John Richard Deacon, their Deaky. 

-X-

Strangely enough THE Santa Claus, was rarely, if ever, at the North Pole (which on a map, was actually called Polaris).  

He could usually be found fixing something in the apartment he shared with his bandmates, a wrench held between his teeth as he tinkered away. He had been building and inventing toys since he was in the cradle, so the process of creation was nothing new to him. Yet he would still be at a loss for words when Roger would trot over, as John was laying flat on his back, fixing their shitty fridge once again, and plopped down, straddling his stomach. (Which was not round and jiggly like a ‘bowl full of jelly’, thank you very much, modern culture. He was sort of chubby yeah, not gonna deny that. But dear lord, every caricature depicted him as some obese old man. It was almost enough to give him a body complex. Almost).

“Hey Deaky?”

Rog started with that annoyingly inquisitive tone of his and John merely grunted at the knee in his ribs. 

“How did you learn to fix stuff like this?”

Because I was raised by toy-making Keebler elves in a magical winter-wonderland forest. 

“Practice.”

Roger asked a lot of questions like that. 

Most people liked to write him off as the dumb blonde of the band, (obviously there to do little more than pose and look pretty, while playing on his kit or laying on an album cover), but in practice, Rog was anything but. 

“Hey Deaky?” 

John hummed as Roger’s hand stilled from where it had been carving through his long pale ponytail, bushy as ever in the confines of it’s scrunchie. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask, why is your hair all white? Are you albino?” Ever the biology major.

Magic, Roger. 

“I dunno, I was born with it.”

Which wasn’t to say that Brian and Freddie didn’t ask difficult questions as well, but they were rarer events. Most of his quirks he could easily explain away to them. Like Fred when he shoved eight cookies into his mouth at once. The impatient boy was just lucky they were still soft out of the oven, or he probably would’ve choked to death and they’d be out a lead singer for the band. 

As it stood, Freddie flopped over the arm of their couch’s nasty love-seat, hands folded over his mouth, making several guttural sounds better suited to a porno than a reaction to baked goods. 

“Good, huh? Or are those just the sounds of despair?”

Freddie made a noise that sounded a bit like how Cookie Monster must have in the throes of passion. 

“Funny, the way you go on, I’d always thought you could fit more in your mouth.”

He caught a faceful of moist towelettes for his insolence, but it was so worth it. 

“How in the world did you learn to cook ambrosia, darling?” Freddie asked, once he could finally breathe again. John shook his head and tucked in his chin to hide the smile. 

“Tante taught me.” Tante Kringle, his elf mother. 

Fred’s brow had crinkled and his lips pursed in confusion. “Tante?” 

Deaky did the washing up with a smile on his face. “Yes, it means Aunt in German. She and my uncles raised me.” Brushing a stray clump of snowy hair out of his eyes, just because it was white didn’t mean he could see through it. Freddie came up behind him to wrap his arms around his waist, pressing his curved seashell ear onto John’s back to hear him breathe.

“What happened, Deaky?”

Fred sounded so sad, but John merely tossed his hair aside (Freddie insisted that it stay long for their glam look) and pressed a little kiss to the crown of their singer’s head. 

“My parents abandoned me on their doorstep as a baby.” 

“They did what?!” Freddie sounded so bloody broken up about it that John had no idea what to say. It wasn’t a big deal anymore. He was raised by the most unbelievably loving elf family. (Part of him wished that the boys could meet them, you know, without freaking out). 

“It’s alright, Fred. I never knew them and my family loves me very much.”

Freddie pouted, arms wrapped around John’s tummy. “Still.” 

****

Roger snorted as he watched one of the many TV movies leading up to Christmas, “Hey, did you lot know that Santa’s got a pilot license?”

Freddie had laughed into his cornflakes, sitting cross-legged on the living room rug in his underwear. Brian didn’t look up from his textbook, or the leaning Tower of Pisa he’d constructed out of notes from each of his dozen classes, frantically studying for his next final. John nodded, of course he knew, it was his license. Thank you, American Assistant Secretary of Commerce. 

“So Bri…” Roger trilled, rolling over until his blonde head was all up in Brian’s face, covering his frantically written notes, in a way that reeked of suicide. The fire in Bri’s eyes could have deforested the Congo. 

“Do you believe in Santa Claus?”

“No. He doesn’t exist, he’s a social construct. It’s impossible. No one can go deliver gifts around the world in one night or go down a flue over and over, especially not a man that size. Suffice to say, reindeers can’t fly and could never carry that many presents. Now kindly bugger off, so I can study.”

Thank you, Mr. Analytical. 

…Whatever happened to magic?

Sometimes he really wanted to pull A Year Without A Santa Claus and see what went down without him.

But then he’d remember his family, waiting up in the snowy hilltops for him and just how hard they worked for the joy of children each holiday season and he could never pull shit like that. Not when they relied on him so much. 

Tante would pull him into her lap as a little thing and smooth out his hair with her dainty glass hands.

“Our boy, our Kris, our little Saint Nicholas.”

-X-

“I believe in Santa Claus

But there was a time

I thought I had grown to old

For such a childish rhyme

He became a dream to me

‘Til one Christmas night

Someone stood beside my bed

With a beard of white…”

-X-

As usual, Christmas Eve came far too soon and he was frantically packing up in the dead of night to get the show on the road. 

Making sure his boys were safely tucked into dream-land before creeping out into the living room, dressed in a pair of obnoxiously red flannel pajamas, snow boots and a white parka the same shade as his hair (the suit would be waiting for him in the sleigh, along with the toys and everything else sent along by his ever-vigilant family). His cheeks were round-peach rosy even in the cold and tugged on a pair of fleece mittens with a practiced hand. He was just walking around the couch to grab his discarded polka-dotted scarf, when his foot connected with something worryingly plush and startling human. 

Roger groaned as he sat up like Frankenstein’s monster, holding his stomach where John had inadvertently kicked him. “Hey Deaky, what’s the big idea?!” 

John was at a loss. “I just saw you… you were asleep in bed…” He waved his hands around as if that would remedy the problem. 

Rog just rolled his eyes, “Nah, that’s Fern. The girl I brought home last night.”

“…and you’re not asleep with her?”

Roger cringed as though John had suggested he drop Freddie’s hairdryer in the bathtub, while he was in it. “Well, you know Johnny Boy, when a man loves a woman, or a man loves a man, or a woman loves a woman, (let’s be inclusive here)… sometimes if they’re too close together they…” Cue several vulgar hand gestures. “I wasn’t sure if you lot wanted to hear that.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t. But now I can see it. Thanks for that.”

Roger grinned like a greedy kid on Christmas morning. 

“No problem, Deaks!” Then his eyes narrowed in on John’s outfit and the small clutch of luggage in his keeping. “Where are you going?’

The young bassist blanched. “Oh, you know.” A vague hand gesture. “My family needs me to rush home for… reasons.” I have to go fly around in a red suit handing out presents to children. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

He tried to grab everything he needed and make a beeline waddle for the door, but Roger was far too fast for him and basically galloped over, to wrap those skinny noodle arms tight around his waist, stopping him in his tracks. Fuck. 

Instead of doing the sensible thing and asking him why he had to go, or if there was anything he could do to help, Roger screamed for Brian and Freddie at the top of his lungs. Yelling about how there was a Christmas emergency and John was trying to flee the country. 

Thanks Rog, thanks a whole fucking lot. 

Freddie hurled himself out of the bedroom, tinsel wrapped around his neck and candy-cane pasties on his nipples. It complimented the tight yellow star boxers down below that left nothing to the imagination, leftovers from their wild Christmas party the night before. “Wha’s going on? Deaky’s going on the lam? Who did we kill?”

John’s will to live. 

“The last of my sanity.” Brian groaned, scrubbing a hand through his half-flattened curls. “What is going on?”

Roger instantly let go and pointed the finger at John, like they were still in primary school and he’d stolen Rog’s Hello Kitty eraser. “Deaky’s trying to run off and join the circus!”

“No, I’m not!” He was about to rip out chunks of his own hair though. “I just have to go home for a few days…” Nope, I’ve got to go be Santa. 

Freddie was aghast. “But Deaky, you’ll miss Christmas! I thought we were going to celebrate together.” He looked so sad about it. Dramatic Queens, the lot of them.

John pinched the bridge of his nose. About to launch a long winded apology and partial explanation. Until he got distracted by Roger, who was running about and gathering up all his shit like some sort of small opinionated human tornado. 

“Rog, what are you doing?”

“Packing!” The drummer squeaked, squishing himself between the love-seat and the pull-out couch to dig up his other sock. “We’re coming with you!”

Roggie, you can’t just…

The familiar symphony of hooves touching down on the roof, dislodging more than a fair bit of snow, sounded high above their heads and John contemplated using his wintery magic to knock the boys unconscious. Alas, Bri just crinkled his nose. 

“What on earth was that?”

John grimaced. “My ride.” 

-X-

When he got up to the roof, Donner was all up in his face with that wet nose of hers, the others not far behind her. His loyal reindeer queen. His fuzzy baby girls that he’d raised from the very moment that they’d tumbled out into his arms. They knew his scent, the funny choked-off laugh mimicked by all around the world, they loved him. (Yes, his sleigh ran on fierce girl power. Male reindeer didn’t have antlers this deep in the wintertime).

He trudged through the surprisingly thick snow to be able to reach out to all of them at once. 

The boys were openly staring behind him. Keeping a wide berth, but ah hell, what did John have to lose? Might as well give regal disaster Freddie the time of his life. John took the shy singer by the hand and led the scrawny boy towards the rarely skittish creatures. 

“Hold your hand out palm up, so they can sniff you.”

Freddie was adorably incredulous, whispering over and over under his breath. “I’m being sniffed by a caribou. I’m being sniffed by a caribou. This is the best day of my life. I’m being sniffed by a caribou.”

Brian cleared his throat, eyes unblinking as he worried at his bottom lip absently. “John. Why are there caribou on our roof?”

“They’re uh… reindeer… That’s the term they prefer.”

Bri nodded, waiting a suitable amount of time before. “Right. John. Why are there reindeer on our roof?”

“They’re my ride.” He sounded sheepish as could be, drawing a hand through his ever-mussed ivory hair, pretty sure that Brian was inches away from pulling a Santa Clause and shoving him off the roof to die. 

“Your ride home is… in a sleigh drawn by reindeer? Were the red-eye all booked up?” Disbelief written across his soft features, plain as day. 

“Uh no. You um… caught me red-handed. I actually have to make some deliveries first.” 

The toy bag was resting in the back. It was magic, you see, the correct toys wouldn’t appear in his sack until he had reached the intended home. The children sleeping softly in their beds, eager for what the next day would bring. 

“You have to make deliveries in a sleigh drawn by reindeer on Christmas Eve?” Brian rolled his eyes skyward, those bony arms crossed to hide the way they trembled. “I think I know this story. Isn’t that Santa Claus’ job?”

John shifted side to side, clearly uneasily. “Well, yeah. Though can you really count it as a job when I’ve never gotten paid?”

Bri looked more frozen than the ice freezing on the edges of his curls. “Excuse me, what?”

“You heard me, Bri.” 

“Um, no. I didn’t hear you, because Santa Claus doesn’t exist.” And this was the man who thought he was so much better than those who called Galileo crazy, for suggesting that the world didn’t revolve around the earth? Wow. Irony. 

John rolled his eyes, because this was going nowhere and he didn’t have any time to lose. 

“Look, believe whatever you want. But I don’t have time for this. Take Freddie and Rog and go back inside. I’ll be home in a few hours.” 

He moved to climb into the sleigh and change clothes. But not before seeing an eager Roger sitting in the front seat, beaming from ear-to-ear and practically bouncing where he sat. “Oh fuck that, come on boys! Let’s go save Christmas!” The drummer crowed, arms spread as wide as could be. 

“Rog, Christmas isn’t in danger.”

“It will be if you don’t get a move on, Santa Baby.” A finger reached out to poke at his soft middle and John blushed all the way up to his ears, as Roger began to hum the opening lines of the song.

“Fuck you.” Honestly, he didn’t mind and could give a shit. (At least it wasn’t Little Drummer Boy, for the thousandth time).

“Aw, don’t be shy, Johnny! It’s cute!” Roger squirreled his arms around John again, who rolled his eyes before hugging back, loathly.

“Rog, you are so on the naughty list, for life.” Enjoy coal, bitch. (Okay, so maybe he cared a just little bit). 

“Let’s save Christmas!” The naughty blonde simply crowed, throwing out his arms like he was preparing for some sort of grand entrance at a ball (as the princess). 

John pouted as he moved to check all the rigging, he wasn’t taking them with him. He wasn’t. 

Spoiler alert: He took them with him. 

-X-

‘“So you’re too old for Santa Claus”?

He said with a smile

“Then you’re too old for all the things

That make a life worthwhile…

For what is happiness, but dreams

And do they all come true

Look at me and tell me, son

What is real to you?”’

-X-

He cracked the reins to get them soaring into the air, even though the girls knew exactly what they were doing.

His boys seemed the opposite, a complete motley of emotions. Brian was scowling like a sullen little boy, and holding onto the edges of his seat for dear life. Roger was still bouncing around like a little kid on a sugar high, so no change there. And Freddie was trying to avoid looking down. 

“Fred, you okay?”

Soft swallow, “I’m not much of a heights fan, dear.”

“HA! Deer!” Yes, Roger was most certainly still drunk from drinking his body weight in spiked eggnog earlier. Or maybe that was just Roger. John unceremoniously reached over and dropped the reins in Freddie’s hands.

“Drive the sleigh for a minute, yeah? I’ve got to get dressed.” He ordered absently, as he climbed into the back to change into the proper attire. The response from the boys was immediate, Roger froze and stared over at Freddie with unspeakable horror. Freddie himself clutched onto the reins with trembling hands and Brian was flabbergasted, as usual. 

“Freddie can’t even drive a car, Deaky!”

“Oh we’re gonna die… we’re gonna die!” Roger moaned from the back and Freddie whipped around with a venomous scowl on his face.

“Thank you so much, darlings, for the vote of confidence!”

John tucked his discarded parka around Freddie’s narrow shoulders. “It has to be him. Nobody else has the song power needed to keep this thing up.”

Roger snorted into his hand. “Fred’s good at keeping stuff up.” Fear momentarily forgotten. 

Brian eyes were practically suspicious slits, “Song power? Is that a thing?”

Freddie looked like a mix between nervous and intrigued. “Do we have to sing Christmas carols to stay in the air?” 

Nope. 

“Definitely.”

He dressed in the back as quickly as he could, fortunate enough that his warm suit was tucked safely amongst the floorboards. He hastily handed off pieces of his clothing to whoever looked the coldest, as he was serenaded by the worst Christmas carolers he had ever heard in his life. If the sleigh really did run on song power, oh they would have been dead long ago. 

Roger wolf-whistled as he climbed into the front in full-regalia. “Looking good, Deaky!”

John flushed all the way up to his ears and Freddie frantically passed the reins back. A few of the reindeer tossed their heads and gave him scathing looks for being under-siege by such an unexperienced driver. 

“You aren’t singing.” Brian deadpanned. 

“I don’t have to, I’m Santa.”

-X-

Once they’d hit all the bloody homes in Britain, Brian was sitting there blinking in shock. “How in the world…? It’s been minutes!” (What could he say? He’d had a slow start). Bri’s stubbly jaw was half-hanging open like a shutter door somebody had forgotten to close. 

“Stand up, Bri.” 

They were flying through the air faster than the speed of light, the ocean swirling, curling and sloshing beneath them. Brian looked at him like he’d just suggested jumping into it. 

“Stand up!”

Brian rolled his eyes and did as requested, so John dropped the reins into Freddie’s hands again, as he pulled Bri over to the edge of the sleigh. They were flying at a height that turned the clouds into cotton-candy and brought the stars ever closer. He tightened his arm around Bri’s tiny waist to support him, watching as those dark eyes filled with wonder once more. A wide, childlike wonder. Mirroring the face of a little boy who had once believed in magic. 

Brian May, Hampton. He’d asked for space-related paraphernalia every year for Christmas during his childhood. The one year he’d asked for a bike instead, John had personally attached planetary stickers and streamers to the handlebars. 

Bri, when did you stop believing? 

His hands reached out to touch the stars. 

“Hey, Bri, do you know what they see when they look up at us?”

Those doe eyes were enormous as he shook his curly head. When did you stop seeing the magic in the stars?

“What?” A little smile playing in the corners of his mouth. 

“A shooting star… Make a wish.”

That lovely smile took full center-stage again, a man who believed again, in something more. 

Merry Christmas, Brimi. 

-X-

“Just believe in Santa Claus

Like you believe in love

Just believe in Santa Claus

And everything he does…

Wipe that question from your mind

Yes, he does exist!”

-X-

They flew around the world in a matter of hours. 

Even when Freddie begged to be left in Japan (they’d had to bodily put him back into the sleigh, “Just leave me here to enjoy my life!” Fighting for freedom with all his might). Roger was groaning with a sore distended belly from eating all the bloody Christmas cookies that John had shoved in his direction. (“What the hell? Why did you eat them all?!” Roger pulled his big pouty face. “You said they would be upset if you didn’t!” John rolled his eyes skyward before ordering that if Rog had to puke, he more certainly wasn’t doing it in the sleigh. Magic could only go so far.)

And Brian was looking around like he was seeing the world with new eyes. 

John made sure he dragged each of them down the chimney at least once, to give them the full-experience of laying down the presents and experiencing the whole shebang. 

Their only issue occurred in America. Where they hadn’t noticed a little girl in a fuzzy green nightie asleep on the couch overlooking the tree. She had sat up with a stuffed snake cradled in her lap. 

“Santa?”

All four of them had frozen. (Why he’d thought it was smart to bring all of them at the same time was another matter entirely). John had turned though, with a practiced smile on his face, it wasn’t the first time he’d been caught by a pair of curious little eyes. 

“Hello, love. You should be asleep.” 

She had rubbed at her eyes with a tired little smile. 

“Sorry, Santa.” 

“It’s alright, little one. I’m sorry we woke you up, my friends are helping me deliver gifts tonight,” He looked around with mock-furtiveness and spoke in a stage-whisper. “They’re a little new at this.”

John gently tucked her in on the couch. “Merry Christmas, Aeryn.” She smiled that child’s gummy grin and pressed her stuffed snake ever closer. 

“Merry Christmas, Santa.”

But nothing was better than looking in the backseat of his sleigh, the one that had seen many lonely Christmases in his time, and seeing all his rough-and-tumble boys curled up together instead of empty space.

Brian’s head pillowed on Freddie’s shoulder. Rog curled up across both their laps. Freddie flopped over like a deflated bouncy castle. 

For a moment he wondered if being Santa meant giving himself the best Christmas present as well, for when he looked at the boys he’d miraculously accrued… perhaps he already had. 

The sleigh touched down in the center of the small elfin village that he’d helped to build so long ago, all of the icy grandeur patterned around that tiny cottage in the ever-wintery wood. The house that had served as his school, his workshop and his home beyond all else.

He hurled himself out of his uncomfortable wooden seat (they really needed to invest in better padding) to careen over to that same little cottage and the old elfin queen who waited for him there. Tante Kringle opened up her arms and he bent in two to hold her close, even as his knees grew damp and icy cold from the snow beneath them. He couldn’t help the sob that escaped his chapped lips.

“Oh how I’ve missed you my little Saint Nicholas.”

“I’ve missed you too, Tante.”

She pressed a familiar kiss against his forehead, tracing the path of a snowflake. “Did you have a lovely Christmas?”

“The best I’ve had in a very long time.” 

Her hands crested on her rounded hips and she tsked in his direction. “And have you called your mother yet young man? You know she’s been waiting to speak to you for millennia.” 

John groaned and rolled his eyes skyward. “Let her, I do have eternity, you know. And she abandoned me! She can wait.” He flashed her his token impish grin, only this one came with a forked snake tongue and slitted red eyes. His birth-mother’s calling cards. 

Oh you didn’t know Krampus had birthed Santa Claus?

Well, that dears, is a story for another time.

-X-

John carried his limp sleepy boys inside, one by one, and gently tucked them in on their messy couch. Brushing his chapped lips across every forehead within reach. “Happy Christmas.” He whispered to each and every single one of them. 

The boys who had ‘saved’ Christmas. 

But he lingered a moment afterward, saying a little Christmas wish of his very own. 

It doesn’t matter if you lot don’t believe in Santa Claus. That’s not something I would ever force anyone to do. But promise me, that you’ll believe in something. Anything. Even when everything is dark and there isn’t a Christmas light in sight? Believe. Believe in hope, believe in the future, believe in yourselves. That is all I want for each of you. That’s what I’m designed to teach. A belief in something incorporeal. Something beyond the limits of the possible. 

Yet when they woke up hours later and fervently asked about how things had gone, had everything gotten delivered in time, oh god was John really Santa Claus? He had merely raised an eyebrow, sipping at his hot cocoa. 

“Wow, you three certainly got plastered at that Christmas party last night. I wonder what was in that eggnog…” Smiling to himself with a knowing sort of look. 

Already getting ready for next year. 

-X-

“Just like love you knows he’s there

Waiting to be missed

Just like love I know he’s there

Waiting to be be missed…”

-X-

(MERRY CHRISTMAS! 

Features the song: “I Believe in Santa Claus” from the Rankin/Bass Christmas special. :D)

[the-stick-scribblers]

Tumby

The neighborhood is half suburbia, half forest, which is maybe why when he screams no one comes looking. 

One hand is occupied by a ring of keys trying to unlock the old car door; the other arm is full of wailing, wriggling four-year old. She hasn't yet noticed the beast on the other side of the street. Gabriel is frozen.

“Mona,” he croaks, eyes locked away from her on the danger. “Love. Shhhhhhh.”

“Tumby!” she wails

“We brought Tumby back to his family. In the woods, remember? The stream?” Gabe keeps his voice low, steady, soothing. The glossy crayon woman on the cover of his wife's favorite parenting book would be proud of his control, given the circumstances.

Mona wails louder.

“Hush,” he tries again, sharper, jiggling her more fiercely. “Shhhhh, sh-shhh,” The keys he fumbles awkwardly in his hand, cold metal biting into his paper cut from church craft time this morning, clanking against his wedding band. He winces at the sound. Mona grabs his ear and tries to kick her way to freedom. He squeezes her tighter but doesn't dare drop the keys. “Mona baby, I'm sorry. I know you miss Tumby. But I need you to be quiet right now. Papa's trying to think.”

There. The keys settle in his hand, jutting out from between his knuckles. Their car is a classic, gorgeous steel low rider from the sixties that's also prone to deciding not to move any part of it at unpredictable times. Today it has decided to jam it's doors. Getting in and driving into the beast heroically is, unfortunately, off the table.

Equally unfortunately, he left his cell phone inside. He can picture it exactly, nestled lopsided in the mesh of the yellow polka-dot lunch bag Maria bought him as a joke right after his promotion, before he left to take care of Mona; he uses it as an emergency kit. Normally he keeps it in the diaper bag. But the batteries needed replacing and medicines' expiration dates needed to be checked.  It's in the front hall buried under a jumble of hurriedly discarded hangers from their earlier walk to the park. Gabe dropped it right inside the front door while wrestling Mona into her shoes. Which are goners themselves now, at least a hundred feet away, right by the street and nearly on top of the beast's horribly dripping tail.

If he can get to the kit, he can call a ride.

The beast occupies the forest; the houses on this side of the road make up suburbia, linked by dead wooden hands all the way across the valley without a single break. The homeowners’ association takes appearances seriously. Normally, Gabe chafes at the caged simulation. Today it means he'll either need to bring Mona with him past the beast or set her down and leave her alone behind.

She sure wants to get down. Even without shoes her kicking feet are pounding his chest into a mosaic of tender bruises. Gabe's ear, the one Mona's tugging at with all the weight of her little body, is ringing and hot. Despite his dedication to the panic of the moment, he spares a few brain cells to miss the gentle way Mona was when she was three.

It's Tumby's fault, Mona's new voice. That damn lizard.

Maria and he agreed when Mona was born they would be the sort of parents who didn't freak over the small stuff. Who let their little girl get just as dirty as their boy and didn't fuss over things like lizards brought home in muddy pockets. Who kept more encyclopedia's on hand than pink or blue toys. Which is why, although Gabe thought the lizard's purple coloring was freaky and possibly poisonous from the start, he smiled at the kids indulgently and grabbed an empty butter box.

“Who's going to catch it bugs to eat?” he joked, holding out the lid so David could punch holes in the box lid with a screwdriver.

“Mona,” said David.

She nodded, her fists stuffed with brown grass and her chest puffed with the important gravity of being the chosen one during play time. Gabe held out the box so she could drop it into the bottom to make the lizard a bed. Then she dropped the lizard in, rather clumsily, on its head, which was the second sign something was weird. At work he'd always known lizards to be agile bastards.

Mona named it Tumby because it's stomach was a little light blue oval and was bottomless - the lizard liked to eat, and eat until all the bugs on their street disappeared for self-preservation. It outgrew the butter box in a day. It outgrew the shoe box in a week. By ten days, it was the size of a small yappy chihuahua and weighed twice as much. And it learned to climb. Mona forgot to bring it bugs that morning before her play date, and it scurried onto the kitchen counter and fell asleep in the bowl of the scale for most of the afternoon. Gabe found it with its nostrils poking over the edge of half-melted plastic like eyes and he nearly threw the knife in his hand out of fright. He told Maria that night it had to go.

“You're telling the kids,” she said, glasses tipped sideways on her face sensibly. It was such an extremely Maria moment, Gabe kissed her.

Mona thought the whole trip to the stream a great adventure, splashing about in her duck-print boots and tumbling about with David until both of their curls were littered with crunchy leaves. The trip back, she splashed less but chattered more, all about the adventures Tumby would have in the woods. It wasn't until Gabe was putting her to bed that night that the tantrum came as she realized Tumby's adventure was not a temporary one. She howled all night, and for a month straight anytime they took her outside.

Of course she's howling again now. Gabe starts to give in and set her down on habit to send her away to play before he looks up and remembers, right. The beast. Purple and probably a people eater. Most of its body is hidden in the shadows of the trees, so whether or not it can fly is still to be determined. It definitely has at least one horn; short for its size but still at least as big as Gabe's forearm. 

“Mona,” he says, giving in to gravity and setting her on the ground. He keeps his hands looped over her shoulders, so she won't turn around and startle. She sniffles, but quiets. “Papa needs you to listen very, very carefully. Can you do that?”

Her lower lip trembles and there are watery beads stuck in the baby hairs around her face. She's looking everywhere except at him. Still, eventually she sniffles, wipes her little hand across her eyes, and nods.

“Thank you, Mona. Papa forgot his phone and needs to go back inside. But there's a...” How much to say, how to say it without setting her off again? “There's a snake on the path and it's camouflaged, so I am going to carry you so you don't accidentally step on it. Understand?”

“There's a...snake?”

“Yes.”

“What color?”

Gabe smooths her flyaway hair and plants a kiss at her temple. “Brown. It blends in with the sidewalk.”

She clings to him so he can't pull away from her. “I wanna see.”

Kids. Was David this circular when he was Mona's age? Gabe can't remember, and it's only been three years. The eternal enemy of parents everywhere, time. “I'll point it out as we walk past, if it's still there.”

“Okay,” says Mona. And just like that she's calm again, nearly her pre-lizard self.

Gabe hoists her up again so she's tucked neatly against his shoulder and as sturdy as he can manage with one arm. He peeks his head out around the edge of the garage, gauging the distance. The dragon's body doesn't move. Its green eye - the same size as their Mercedes's hubcap - is closed, although thin smoke trails from its nostrils. Shudders threaten Gabe's grip. He blinks, long and slow, makes his panic a game for Mona and counts with her to ten. They take one step out, and then -

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the neighbor's front door open.

Bernadette is the sort of woman Gabe and his friends would have called a wicked witch and meant something mean by it, when they were children. She wears frayed, mismatched skirts, sending patchouli thick thorough the air with every step; she has flyaway hair, has the best garden on the block, and is older than everyone else in nearly the whole damn city, too. Her eyesight left her about the same time as her late husband, fifteen or so years ago. Her hearing lingers on halfway. Mona is still against his shoulder, but Gabe feels his heart rate pick up again.

“Bernadette,” he calls, loud as he dares. She doesn't look up. She doesn't look across the street, either.

There's a pebble near his shoe from the gravel driveway, dragged in by some forgotten romp. He nudges it sideways until he can lean down without dropping Mona, then tosses it at Bernadette's porch. It misses and clangs against the drain pipe on the other side.

“David, what sort of trouble are you up to today?” She's turned away the wrong direction, but her voice is the strongest part of her, and it carries. Too many years as an actress followed by too few years with anyone interesting to talk to but boisterous kids. 

Gabe finds another pebble, dances it to his side, throws it. This time it hits her wooden stairs. He calls again, “Bernadette!”

“I moved the keys to the garage, David, you won't be able to find them before I find you,” she says to the wrong house beside her.

“David's in school, Bernadette. It's Gabe and Mona.”

“Bullshit. David is far too naughty not to be suspended.”

“Bernadette, I'm sorry but now is really not the time. There's a -”

“No time for me, huh? He gets it from his father.”

Gabe sucks in a deep whistling breath through his front teeth. “Mona and I are stuck out here in the garage. I don't have my phone. Can you call - no!” She has finally turned around the right way and is starting down her steps. ”Don't come out further, it's dangerous -”

“It's only mud.”

“There's a -” Well, that is the question isn't it. “There's an animal.” You think. You guess. “Across the road. It's been watching us, but we can't get in the car and we can't get inside. Bernadette I need you to call someone.”

“You want me to call the police?” Bernadette doesn't trust the police, and says it again loud as she can every time Maria's brother comes to visit to rub it in. If he needed Bernadette to call the police, he wouldn't even bother to ask.

But animal control won't have anything for this beast, either. “Try the fire department. Tell them, uh -” Gabe eyes the trees across the road, the way the beast's head blends flat against the treetops. “Tell them they'll need extra ladders.”

“What kinda animal are they after, anyway?” Bernadette grumbles. “A monkey?”

Mona wriggles warningly, and yells, “Snake!”

Gabe bites down on the inside of his cheek. “Just call them,” he whispers towards Bernadette like he's on a stage.

“Suit yourself,” Bernadette says to the nearby flower box, and goes back inside. The screen door bangs shut behind her.

Gabe and Mona both jump. She nestles deeper into his shoulder, resuming her kicking with half-hearted attention. Behind the car in the corner of the garage is a tidy, tiny workstation with a short stool the kids like to swivel around on while he works on the car's problem of the week. It's cozy, and good for getting energy out, and most importantly out of sight. The beast - dragon, probably, although thinking its name feels akin to blasphemy, surreal and scary and brave all at once - flicks its tail and takes out two young trees. Gabe sinks back into the garage and sets Mona firmly on the stool. She looks at him with narrowed eyes, confused.

“Papa is going to go watch out for the snake. It's poisonous, and Miss Bernadette is calling for help. I want you to sit here and be safe until I come back, okay?”

Mona considers this. She stands on the stool and uses her leverage on Gabe's shoulders to see past him to the front yard; whatever she sees, she's sits back down again with a satisfying thump, and nods. The creak of the stool spinning around and around follows Gabe back to the entrance. It keeps him grounded. He has to stand at the furthest edge of the garage, away from and out of Mona's sight, to see the road and wave down the help. It's probably an unnecessary gesture. Anyone with functioning eyes should be able to see what the call was about. But Gabe still doesn't quite believe his own. He tries to blink one eye at a time because if he closes both eyes at once, he'll open them to find the dragon is gone, and spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder. 

Bernadette's screen door slams open again against the peeling slats. When she steps back out, she hasn't got her phone. Instead, she's toting a rifle tall as she is, and holding it like she means business. She leans it tottering on the steps' railing and turns the long way around to face Gabe. “What did she say this animal is? Snake?”

“Did you call the fire department?” Gabe is going to have to schedule his annual doctor's appointment sooner rather than later. There's got to be some sort of lasting damage from adrenaline this high, this long. “Bernadette, please tell me you called.”

“What's those firemen going to do about a snake? You may never have done a day in the country in your life, but used to we took care of these things with a shovel.” She's reached the bottom of the steps, shaking the railing so the gun tips down after her. Across the road the dragon's unblinking eye rotates sideways until it's laser focused on Bernadette. The smoke coming from its nostrils is flecked with blue and purple embers. Where each one brushes against a leaf, a tree branch catches fire.

Gabe is halfway across the yard in pursuit of Bernadette before he stops. Arms too empty, shoulders too light. Mona. He turns around and runs back to the garage.

It's silent, and dim. He reaches the stool - no Mona. He looks under the car, and then panics, because the garage is too small and there's nowhere else to hide. He should know better, it's parenting 101, never leave your child unattended or they could get hurt. They could die. (“All those sharp tools!” chides his mother in his brain. “All those sharp talons!”)

Back to the yard, squinting against the sudden glare of day and patchwork fires. Looking at the shadows of the grass, the steps, the road, looking for a splash of purple color. There - Mona, waddling alongside Bernadette, leading her in a mostly straight path towards the dragon with her mouth spread wide, baring every crooked baby tooth. A look of pure glee on her face.

Gabe blacks out. He comes to with Mona cradled tight and kicking in his arms, Bernadette behind him ignoring every tenant of gun safety and trying to use the gun to force her way around. Gabe looks up. The dragon looks down. They're both standing nose to nose, breathing in the glowing smoke.

“Mona,” Gabe hisses. “Bernadette. Don't. Move.”

Something about his tone makes them both pause for the first time all day, or maybe the smoke has made him sound harsher than he intends. They both look up, following his gaze.

And let out twin gasps as they both finally see the dragon up close. Not entirely, because it was too large and too camouflaged even from the other side of the street, but in uncanny detail - eyes slitted like a cat's, scales the size of roofing tiles and so black they look purple in the light of the fires. Fine white streams of smoke are permanently etched around the dragon's jaw like whiskers. Well, at least Gabe can cross hallucinations off his list of symptoms he'll be bringing to the doctor if he survives this day.

Bang! A gunshot rings out, flat and startling. Mona screams. Then she bites down on Gabe's arm so hard she draws blood. Gabe's blood mingles with something dark and sticky, the same color of the dragon's scales - the dragon's blood? - and he has to press his hand up in his shirt to stop the flow. And he has to drop Mona. She immediately takes off.

“Mona!” he yells after her.

She runs towards the beast, arms outstretched, ignoring Gabe, still screaming.

“Tumby!”

[stampwithtami]

Liquid Shaker Wine Bottle Card

LIQUID SHAKER WINE BOTTLE CARD Happy New Year! A bottle of red and a bottle white to celebrate. Cheer in 2023 with this super cool liquid shaker wine bottle card. I created this with the Stampin' Up! Vintage Bottle Punch and Vintage Bottle Shaker Domes. Combined with the December 2022 "Good things come in small packages" Paper Pumpkin kit. Have you joined the Paper Pumpkin fun yet?  You can easily change out the elements I used from the kit if you don't have it. Be sure to subscribe to the February kit by the 10th. Scroll down for : ✅ Written instructions✅ Video short showing how to create the liquid shake wine bottles✅ Video tutorial how to make Dec 2022 Paper Pumpkin kit✅ Links refill for this kit and PP Subscriptions✅ Photos of this card✅ Supply List   DECEMBER KIT VIDEO TUTORIAL Check out this video from Stampin’ Up to see what’s inside the December “Good things come in small packages” kit and how to make the projects per instructions.  INSTRUCTIONS INSTRUCTIONS HOW TO MAKE LIQUID SHAKERS Check out this short video and learn how to make these liquid shakers with the the Vintage Bottle punch and Vintage Bottle Shaker Domes. JANUARY PAPER PUMPKIN KIT DETAILS & SUBSCRIBE REFILLS & MORE PAPER PUMPKIN LINKS REFILLS & PAST KITS STAMP CASE INSERTS PPX VIDEOS GIFT SET PHOTOS Want to save these ideas for later? Pin them to your favorite Pinterest board. Have you tried this design? I love to see your creations! Be sure to share them on  #shareyourcrafts post every Saturday on my Facebook Page.  I love this twist on the shaker card. The liquid shaker adds so much fun.  I added water a couple of drops of Merry Merlot and Soft Sea Foam ink pad refills for the color. Merry Merlot is perfect right?  The words "You did it", the polka dot print, gray twine and the labels are from the December Paper Pumpkin kit. I think there may still be refills for the kit, but if you don't have it you can easily substitute. These are the boxes created per the kit instructions (and video above). The December 2022 "Good things come in small packages" Paper Pumpkin kit makes the cutest gift card holder boxes. They are like mini paper pumpkin boxes and perfect for little treats as well as gift cards. They are also reversible. Another alternate to the December 2022 Paper Pumpkin kit. This gift set was created with the Stampin' Up! Pure Magic Stamp Set. Get instructions here. Don't miss my Brewed For You Bundle Paper Pumpkin alternate gift set. Get instructions here.   STAMPIN UP PRODUCTS I USED Read the full article

[amazingxperience]

Pleasing and Simple Balloon Decoration Ideas For Kids Birthday AT Home

Decoration ideas that make your kids birthday party rocking

Kids love balloons a lot that makes it a wonderful idea for their birthday parties’ decoration. Balloons can be twisted in many shapes and designs as balloon bunch, balloon tree, balloon stand, and balloon arch to decorate the room or home.

The various birthday party supplies like happy birthday banner, fringe foil curtains, pom pom, ribbons, polka dot printed balloons, metallic balloons, confetti balloons, chrome balloons, star foil balloons, helium balloons, heart shape balloons,  and happy birthday foil balloons are available in the market. You can easily use these party supplies and set up a pleasing and simple balloon decoration for your birthday.

Here, I am revealing to you some interesting and simple balloon decoration ideas at home : -

Balloon blast birthday decoration : - In this decoration, you need only to fill the room with multiple colorful balloons that will rock the birthday party surely. Everyone will feel exciting having the experience of lying balloons here and there. Moreover, kids feel over the moon and enjoy the celebration with full swings of mood.

Helium Balloon birthday decoration : - Best idea for the kids’ birthday parties as the kids are going crazy about these floating and exciting balloons. You will get a wonderful backdrop for the cake cutting ceremony.

Balloon bunch birthday decoration : - Just twist the balloons as a bunch and paste them on the wall, door, and ceiling to decorate the entire room. Further, just set a happy birthday foil balloon or happy birthday banner to create an attractive and simple birthday party backdrop.

Mickey Mouse theme decoration: - You can also create your design for plotting a Mickey Mouse decoration at home. What do you need? You only need red and black metallic balloons, golden foil curtain, Mickey Mouse foil balloons, red or black star foil balloons, Mickey Mouse banner, and dangler to plot this elegant and popular kids’ birthday decoration at home.

Kids special multi-color balloon decoration: - Your kids and his/her friends are going to love this multi-color balloon decoration as the kids love the colorful things. Just seethe balloon as a bunch, single or free float and happy birthday banner on the wall, your exciting birthday party backdrop will be ready for the celebration.

Circus theme birthday decoration: - Use the multi-color metallic balloons, happy birthday banner, foil curtains, joker foil balloon, circus theme dangler, and banner to plot this exciting birthday decoration at home.

Girls’ pink color birthday decoration: - Just set the pink color balloons, golden or pink happy birthday banner, golden or pink foil curtains, pink and golden star foil balloons on the wall, you will get a perfect backdrop for the birthday party of girls.

Boys Blue color birthday party: - Use blue color birthday party supplies as blue color balloons, foil curtains, star foil balloons to set up an elegant boys’ birthday party backdrop. You can also add some white balloons with blue color balloons to enhance the beauty of the entire decoration.

Jungle theme decoration: - kids love and enjoy this elegant jungle theme birthday decoration. You need only green and white metallic balloons, animal foil balloons, green fringe foil curtains, green and white star foil balloons to plot this elegant birthday decoration at home.

If you want a hassle-free decoration then you can also hire birthday decoration services as the most elegant and budget-friendly decoration services and packages are available here. You can also buy DIY birthday decoration kits to decorate the venue as your own.

Make your kids’ birthday a grand celebration with us.

[sensei-aishitemasu]

2017 Black-Owned Gift Guide!

It’s that time again! This Black Friday, try and support a Black-owned business for all your gift-giving needs. For last years gift guide, click here. For the 2015 gift guide, click here.

Similar to 2016, I kept every individual item listed under $100! Click on the links to be taken to the websites in order to peruse more yourselves. 

[And as always, this guide has been split into categories to make it easier to get through, but feel free to mix and match for the person in your life that fits all of (or none of!) these categories!]

Gift Guide 2017 Items

For the Homebody:

Concept Forty-Seven ANNET WEELINK Placemat - Barbados (Set of 4), $30

Concept Forty-Seven Gray and Blue Woven Textile with Citrus Yellow Pillow, $28

Concept Forty-Seven Dauville Small Bowl - Gold, $20

Lettie Gooch JUNE'S - BOY SMELLS CANDLE, $29

Harlem Heirloom Grapefruit Candle, $32

The Jungalow 2X3 Kilim Orange & White Stripe Rug, $56

The Jungalow Botanicals On Blush Insulated Water Bottle, $45

The Jungalow Bohemian Vibes Art Print, $40

The Jungalow Berber Bowl, $32

The Jungalow Bedside Carafe with Cup, $30

The Jungalow Anika Bowls, $20

For the Foodie:

Gullah Girl Tea in Mint Lemongrass, $7

Bounty & Full ‘The Truth’ Habanero Hot Sauce, $5

Bounty & Full Cranberry Mandarin Jam, $5.99

Essie Spice Essential Sauce Collection, $38

For the Beauty Guru:

Harlem Soap in Spearmint & Orange, $6

Hunny Bunny Rose Clay Soap, $5

Hunny Bunny Rose Clay Facial Mask, $6

Hunny Bunny Rose Clay Lip Balm, $2

BeeLux Goods Bad Gal Bamboo Banger Bubble Bath, $14

Beelux Goods Lust Highlighter, $10

BeeLux Goods Mojito Shampoo Detox Bar, $10

BeeLux Goods Juicy Fruit Bath Bomb, $10

Natty Naturals Oral Mouth Rinse, $15

Natty Naturals Herbal Tooth Powder, $15

Plain Jane Beauty Sheer Translucent Powder, $26

Plain Jane Coconut Water Setting Mist, $25

Plain Jane Time To Prime Makeup Primer, $22

Plain Jane Micellar Water Eye Makeup Remover, $14

Elo Perfect Sugar Scrub for Lips, $17

Elo Watermelon Coconut Lip Balm, $13

Eden BodyWorks Peppermint Tea Tree Shampoo, $8.99

Eden BodyWorks Peppermint Tea Tree Conditioner, $8.99

Eden BodyWorks Peppermint Tea Tree Hair Oil, $8.99

Brown Butter Beauty Pumpkin Seed Hair & Body Oil, $16

Brown Butter Beauty Herbal Rich Hair Oil, $10

Foxie Cosmetics Caffeine + Vitamin C Eye Cream, $48

Foxie Cosmetics Moroccan Argan Serum, $25

Foxie Cosmetics Coconut + Vanilla Bath Soak, $20

Foxie Cosmetics Everything Zen Face Mist, $16

Foxie Cosmetics Konjac Facial Puff Sponge, $13.50

vee + co apothecary ‘wanderlust’ aromatherapy roller, $20

For the Fashionable:

Chris Cardi Roxy Unisex Carry-All Clutch (Camo), $45.03

Adorned By Chi ‘Alien From Outerspace’ Crop Top, $31

Adorned By Chi ‘Alien From Outerspace’ Hat, $30

Philadelphia Printworks James Baldwin Tote, $25

Orchids & Spice Berry 2-Pocket Pinafore, $40

Orchids & Spice Hayden Blush Fluffy Jacket, $55

Orchids & Spice Kemi Bralette, $29.50 

Orchids & Spice Isabel Drawstring Crossbody Taupe, $48

Tree Fairfax Cognac Half Moon Leather Waistbag, $86.25

Tree Fairfax Honey Half Moon Leather Hip Bag, $86.25

Joe Freshgoods ‘Don’t Be Mad In NY’ Tee, $30

PeaceImages Tawa Necklaces, $26

PeaceImages Camay Necklace, $37

PeaceImages Sterling Silver Knuckle Ring, $22

Deami Footwear ‘The Chisholm,’ $79

For the Bookworm:

The Jungalow Abstract Face Bookends, $95

The Jungalow Botanical Notebook Trio, $25

‘Nought & Crosses’ by Malorie Blackman, $16.76

‘The Tipping Point’ by Malcolm Gladwell, $9.24

‘Jackie Ormes: The First African American Woman Cartoonist’ by Nancy Goldstein, $36.49

‘The Ebony Cookbook: Date With A Dish’ by Freda DeKnight, $32.99

‘Iola Leroy’ by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper, $12.43

‘A Taste of Power’ by Elaine Brown, $14.36

‘Child of the Dark’ by Carolina Maria de Jesus, $7.69

And of course, my own book!

For the Kids:

Yummy Spoonfuls Chicken Broccoli Bites, pricing available in stores

Coolie Classic Knapsack in Green, $50

AFRO-BETS Book of Black Heroes From A-Z, $11.18

Beija Flor Naturals Cocoa Mango Buttercream, $18

Mielle Organics Children’s Hair & Health Vitamins, $9.99

Honey Child & Co ‘The Fun Tee,’ $10

Swimma Swimming Caps for Big Hair, $15.38

For Men:

Solo Noir All Natural Starter Kit, $34.99

A Life Well Dressed Gray Pocket Square, $20

Talley & Twine Red Canvas Chronograph Watch, $99

Chris Cardi H. St. Clubhouse Cap in Cranberry, $39.03

Chris Cardi LS No Crew Tee, $49.03

Chris Cardi H. St. Sweat Shorts, $65.03

Sole Rebels ‘The Surge TopUP’ in Blue, $95

BeeLux Beard Oil, $20

BeeLux True Grit Shower Gel, $16

Scotch Porter ‘Fresh Meat’ Masculine Wipes, $5

For The Technologically Savvy:

Khristian A. Howell FCL Chic Black Phone Case, $39.99

Khristian A. Howell Deuces Phone Case, $39.99

Adorned By Chi ‘I Hate Everything’ iPhone Case, $25.95

Joe Freshgoods ‘Happy Life’ Phone Case, $15

The Colour Polka Dot iPhone Case, $32.54

Dual Citizen iPad Case, $35

Puku Portable Charger, $49

Puku G8 Headphones, $25

For Cards, Invitations, and Gift Wrap:

‘Happy Holidays’ Card by Debra Cartwright, $8.95

‘Happy Holidays Babe’ Card by Debra Cartwright, $8.95

‘Make A Wish’ Card by Justina Blakeney

Khristian A. Howell Rosy Holiday Card Set, $20

Khristian A. Howell ‘Rosy’ Holiday Gift Wrap Sheets, $8.50

Khristian A. Howell Buffalo Plaid Gift Wrap Sheets in Evergreen, $8.50

Khristian A. Howell Blush Color Capsule Wrapping Sheets, $8.50

I Paint In Heels Holiday Card 2017 ‘Lovely Ladies,’ $25

I Paint In Heels Assorted Pack of Holiday Cards, $32

[broadwaybydesign]

Rainbow Tour: Costuming 1979′s “Evita”

As teased last night, today’s review is going to take a look at the 1979 production of Evita, the Broadway run of the musical based on the life of Argentina’s First Lady, Eva Peron. This musical is one of my all-time favorites in terms of its music and lyrics, and the original production features Patti Lupone, one of my favorite Broadway actresses. The costumes for the 1979 production are quite interesting, and while it was a challenge to find sufficient color stills for a full review, I think I have pulled it off!

The musical itself was well-received, nominated for 11 Tony Awards and winning seven of them, including Best Musical and Best Leading Actress for Ms Lupone. While controversial to some extent because of the way it portrays Eva Person, the musical has experienced a number of revivals as well as a moderately successful 1996 movie adaptation starring singer Madonna. But one of the lasting impacts of the musical was through its costuming, a joint effort by designers Timothy O’Brien and Tazeena Firth. The musical oozes classic 1940s and 1950s style, accented by the design elements of the late 1970s when the musical was produced.

I’ll apologize in advance for the color being a bit washed out in some of these stills; the lack of digital photography makes examining some of the details more difficult. But I really wanted to present this review and then contrast it with the 2012 revival in the next review. Hopefully, you’ll enjoy this journey to the past (to borrow a phrase from a current production on Broadway!) as much as I enjoy this beautiful, storied musical.

We’ll start by looking at one of the costumes from the early part of the show, when Eva, played by Patti Lupone, is still a young girl in a rural slum with big dreams of an acting career in Buenos Aires:

While the primary focus of this review is the costumes of Ms Lupone, I do want to take a moment to mention the vest being worn by the Augustin Magaldi character (played here by Mark Syers). This is what I meant by mixing classic 1940s style with the design of the 1970s; the ruffles on the shirt would have been out of place in the era of the musical, but instantly recognizable to a 1970s audience. I’m not sure it’s a great design choice, but I understand the how and why of its inclusion.

Onto the dress worn by Ms Lupone! Remember that I stated in my Bandstand reviews that patterned fabrics were only just becoming more affordable; such is the case here, and in fact, this particular dress has a rather cheap feel to it that is intentional on the part of Mr O’Brien and Ms Firth. The character of Eva at this point in the musical is a poor girl from a rural part of Argentina, and would not have had access to anything that’s fashion-forward--but of course, you do not want to costume your leading lady in anything boring. As a result, the compromise is to try and craft a dress that looks mass produced, as this red and black polka dotted number does. Note also the very low waist in comparison to the English and American-set productions I’ve reviewed. That’s a nod to the more conservative fashions in Latin America during the era in which Evita is set.

Eva does get her shot in Buenos Aires, and becomes an aggressive social climber, working and sleeping her way to the top. There is a montage number (”Goodnight and Thank You”) which explains it in the context of the musical, but the costume for that number helps to show a different side of Eva:

Whereas the previous dress gave off a girlish vibe (appropriate, since Eva is still a teenager in her first scene), here we have a much more sexualized number, appropriate to a montage of her many lovers she used to get ahead. The bathrobe is a combination of white silk and flowing white feathers, and designed to be both eye-catching and provocative. Notice how the fabric both flows and clings to Ms Lupone’s figure, while the feathers add a kind of whimsical feel; there’s still a feminine element here, but it’s one that is more bordello-chic than runway fashion.

Notice also that the robe and feathers are stark, crisp white; in Western culture, white has always taken on a tone of innocence and purity, which acts as an almost farcical counterpoint to what happens in this scene, as Eva bids farewell to love after lover who she’s used and discarded. The theme of white against a musical background of sin and a lust for power is one that will recur a few times throughout this production, so keep it in mind as we proceed.

Naturally, the story of Eva Peron would be incomplete without the figure of Juan Peron (played here by Bob Gunton), the President and dictator of Argentina who used his wife’s star power and almost cult-like admiration from the common people to cling to office. The two begin their romance early on in the production, and the costumes show Eva’s maturity into a young woman. There are a couple different shots of the O’Brien/Firth designs I want to look at here, because I think this costume is important in the context of the musical:

Having made it (in the musical) as an actress, Eva’s wardrobe has been given a serious upgrade. No cheap fabrics or simple garments does she wear now as she courts the elite and powerful of Buenos Aires society. Successful as an actress and with a string of wealthy lovers, she’s now kitted out not only in a more designer dress (detail to come), but in luxurious furs, the kind of coat she could only have dreamed of at the musical’s start.

But the dress itself is interesting, because it’s in an abstract pattern that I haven’t seen before in looking at costumes. Most of the time, abstract patterns take the form of some kind of geometric design, or floral elements, or else the pattern itself is fully floral. Here, however, the dress is simply a series of color swaths and blotches, as this still (from before the production, but using the same costume) reveals:

The colors are a pastiche of oranges, greens, and even some light purples, and the design is once again more 1970s than it is 1940s--or more appropriately, the pattern is more fit to the 1970s. The pinched and geometric neck and cleavage of this dress is appropriate to the era, but the pattern makes it a mixture of the decades, once again an intentional choice by Mr O’Brien and Ms Firth. There’s something about the design, though, that hits me the wrong way, and it may simply be an effect of the lighting in this shot and in the stage stills; I think the pattern does not work as well as intended, even if the overall look of the dress is just fine.

Eventually, Eva becomes Peron’s wife and helps him to secure power; this is covered in the show-stopping Act I finale, “A New Argentina.” In the stage musical, much of the action takes place in Eva and Juan’s bedroom as they talk through the way to power, and throughout the scene, Eva is once again clad in snow-white, showing off a purity that the audience now knows she simply doesn’t have. Take a look at the new robe here:

While still pure, she’s set against a background, intended to be the streets of Buenos Aires, of working class people rising up in favor of bringing Juan Peron to power as the new President. But there’s a key line in here that reveals that, at least in the musical, Eva is as much the one who desires power as Juan (”We’ll...you’ll...be handed powrer on a plate”). The costume is a counterpoint to the music and lyrics, which is important here, I believe.

In previous reviews, I’ve mentioned that sometimes costumes can tell a slightly different story than the music and lyrics do, and that is the case with this white robe. It imparts an innocence to Eva that she doesn’t really possess...but that deep down I think she thinks she possesses. She doesn’t see this all as a power-grab, but rather as the logical conclusion of her quest to get her due. The white robe offers her a kind of shield against accepting the reality of her circumstances.

The theme of white continues as the curtain rises on Act II, and we get the musical number for which Evita is best known, “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina.” Mr O’Brien and Ms Firth took their cue from the real dresses of Eva Peron for this number, and it is appropriately spectacular for this enchanting aria. Eva is now the First Lady of Argentina, and the Spiritual Leader of the Nation, an official title that gives her a cult-like following and tremendous power through her charisma and charm.  But she is still costumed in an almost angelic ball gown designed to catch the eye and drive home that this is not only a formidable woman, but one who retains the early femininity of the musical but with a new untouchable quality. Take a look first at this Martha Swope promotional photograph of Ms Lupone as Eva:

This is the first costume in the 1979 production that I would really describe as sumptuous. Layer upon layer of tulle and chiffon form the body of the dress, while it is heavily accented by silver sequins that completely cover the bodice of this strapless gown, and which then flow and trickle down the body of the dress in a silvery cascade. I love the visual effect this gives off: the sequins catch and reflect the light, while the tulle and chiffon add a kind of softness to it that once again offers a counterpoint to the character herself. Take a look at this closeup shot for proof:

The musical number in which this dress appears is one of the most heartfelt and moving in the whole of Evita, and surely has to be in contention for one of the most heartfelt arias in modern musical theatre. But it’s being sung by a woman who, even if she believes the words she sings, is still after the ultimate prize: power. The fact that she’s costumed glamorously hides the fact that this is only one step towards her seizing greater power and influence. But that glamor also hints at what is to come: she’s not going to be content to be styled like this only once. She’s going to need couture and glamor from here to eternity.

What is also fantastic about this gown, the real masterpiece of the designs put out by Mr O’Brien and Ms Firth, is how it works in the context of how the musical is staged. The design team for the costumes also designed the relatively simplistic designs for the sets in the 1979 production, and therefore they knew precisely how this dress would look on stage. Have a look at this still from the musical’s staging for an idea of what their vision entailed:

The interplay of light, shadow, and the reflection from the sequins imparts both a powerful and a sinister image. At the apex of accomplishment, her innocent and beautiful gown is cloaked in shadow, and the light catches on the sequins, giving her an almost jeweled appearance. I think that this was intended to do something that I referenced in my Here Lies Love review: make us wonder why we find this figure, who loves power more than anything, so compelling and why we find her aria so memorable and beautiful. Looking upon this costume and this scene, we have to confront something very real: power can be beautiful, seductive, and alluring--even when the source of that power has ulterior motives.

The costuming for much of the rest of the second act is simpler, but no less beautiful. There are hints of couture (and even an entire number dedicated to Eva’s desperate, cloying need for high fashion), and we can see her outfitted in a Christian Dior-style suit here:

The 1940s and 1950s were the era where women’s skirt-suits became incredibly common, and here we see a beautiful white (remember the white theme from earlier? it never went away) suit with black accents. The skirt is simple and neutral, while the jacket flares at the hips. I really like the black lapels with this jacket, because I think they add to the overall mixed-message of the costuming for Eva: she still wants to portray purity to the people of Argentina, but she is now consumed by a dark need to spend at their expense (and indeed, Eva Person spent wildly, much like Imelda Marcos). She’s a woman in control of herself, but at the same time acting in a manner that is out of control. The crispness of the suit can’t conceal that, and the darkness creeping out in the lapels and buttons gives that away.

There is no such innocence to Eva’s final costume for the musical. Eva Peron famously succumbed to illness at the age of 33, and after her death, Juan Peron elevated her memory almost to godhood, which is where a lot of the controversy over her legacy begins, even taking into account her lust for power. Her final costume is one that is tinged with sorrow and regret, and she has to be supported by two other figures in order to even stand:

Eva gives her final address to the people of Argentina clad almost entirely in black, with just a hint of detail work in the stitching on the lapels. The suit she wears is classic early 1950s style, and it offers a counterpoint to the more elegant designs she’s worn throughout the musical. The overall feel it gives off is mournful, but the audience is left to question for what Eva is mourning. Is she mourning her imminent demise and the loss of her power over the Argentinian people? Or is she mourning something else, the knowledge perhaps that her memory will be used to justify repression of the people who she claimed to love?

Those are questions that, I think, I can’t answer for my readers; I think we all have to answer them for ourselves, just like the final costume in Here Lies Love.

The costuming that Mr O’Brien and Ms Firth came up with for the Broadway production is, in my opinion, a bit hit-or-miss. Some numbers, like the “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina” white ballgown are absolutely spot-on in that they combine the style of the era of the musical with heavy symbolism and counterpoints to the musical’s lyrics and feeling. Others, like the patterned dress from her courtship of Juan Peron, just seem to fall a little flat, in that they merge too much of the modern day (or the modern day for when the musical was first staged) with the designs of the past.

Overall, however, I really do enjoy the costumes in this musical. But I’m looking forward to seeing how they compare to the costumes in the 2012 revival; I have a feeling that they may be even more interesting given the changes in technology and in costume design in the thirty years between the two productions!

That wraps up my first Evita review. Next time, I’ll be taking a look at its Broadway revival, and I’m really looking forward to that. As always, if you have questions or feedback, feel free to send in an Ask, a Submission, or drop me a Message any time!

Until next time, dear readers, stay tuned!

[halloweenfor]

Scary Costumes - Womens Creepy Clown Costume

Theme Halloween Costumes

Evil Clown Costumes

In this modern era, our social lives can be frustrating. Our calendars are full of obligations. First, invitations start coming in at a trickle in the early spring. You’re still eager to socialize after the cold months of the winter so your answer is usually yes. Yes to children’s birthday bonanzas, yes to your second cousin’s second wedding, and yes to your neighbor’s kid’s graduation party. Before you know it you realize with horror that every weekend in your summer is full of SOLO cups and small talk, not a fly by the seat of your pants Saturday and Sunday insight.If you’re looking for a way to slow down the invites and maybe even free up a couple of those weekends that were once booked to the brim, consider showing up to the next child populated party as a creepy clown. Now, we’re unsure whether parents would prefer a friend canceling their plans or a scary jester showing up at the pool party but we do know people will talk about your creepy antics. Why individually cancel all your positive R.S.V.P.s when by showing up as a creepy clown, you’ll be the dread of every birthday bash in town? After this, you’ll be doing them a favor by playing hooky from their soirees.Whether you plan to use this outfit to make yourself the town outcast or you’re going to wear it to your next costume party (much more socially acceptable) you’ll love how flattering this ensemble is. The dress has a fitted bodice and full skirt with subtle clown polka dots and red and white circus stripe accents. The off-shoulder sleeves are made of a sheer black material the matches the red and white striped ruff. So put aside that bottle of bubbly you were thinking of bringing to your next social obligation and pick up your balloon animal kit, this weekend is about to get interesting.

See Details & Get More Deals at: Best Halloween Costumes 2019 :: Shop

[junker-town]

A taxonomy of all the fans you see at the Tour de France

Ryan Siu

The Tour de France has the most colorful cast of fans in the world. Here is one man’s attempt to categorize them all.

The Tour de France claims to be the most-attended sporting event in the world. It’s certainly the world’s largest arena. Anyone can walk up and claim a spot along 2,000-plus miles of roadside and see it live, for free, no ticket necessary. As a result, there may not be a more colorful cast of fans anywhere.

Here is a taxonomy of the people you might see next to the road of the Tour de France. It is as exhaustive as I could make it, but by no means complete. Please let me know if I missed a key subgroup in the comments. Or just @ me.

Locals

“Local” here is loosely defined as anyone who easily blends into the scenery. I reckon most of the people you see by the side of the road don’t come from far, but it’s a specific set who are so comfortable with the environment they can seem like a natural part of it.

Locals with furniture

Locals without furniture

Ryan Siu

Some people don’t think through their day at the Tour de France as much more than showing up, standing around for hours, snagging a free hat, yelling their asses off for the three seconds that riders are going by, and going home.

On the far end, some locals won’t watch the Tour go by except in utmost comfort, hauling out full living room sets by the side of the road so they can eat a four-course lunch, smoke cigarettes, snag a free hat, yell their asses off for the three seconds that riders are going by, and go home.

Man in a ditch sleeping at a 90-degree angle on a mountain

A surprising number of people like to sleep next to the Tour de France. While others are picnic-ing, drinking, chatting, or doing any of the things people usually do to pass the time before a sporting event, others are curled up on some nearby grass using a jacket as a pillow.

Something about the brutal climb up to La Planche des Belles Filles made one man supremely comfortable. He stuck his butt in the ditch next to the road, bent his body into a perfect ‘L’, and slumbered peacefully before the riders came by.

Keepers of the regional flag

Ryan Siu

Usually young men, these people have taken upon themselves the duty of reminding people where they are. It’s a noble task, given how quickly the Tour passes in and out of regions. A notable subset of these people are Bretons, who will show up anywhere and everywhere to wave Brittany’s flag.

Note: France’s regional flags are beautiful.

French local industry protestors

Either in favor of industry or against industry, and usually equipped with a spray-painted burlap sign. In the Vosges mountains it was against industry, namely loggers who had been clearing out the area. On rural roads everywhere, it was local farmers standing up against corporate mega-farming. A good reminder that the gorgeous scenery is made up of real places and doesn’t simply exist over the course of the 23 days we get to stare at it through our TVs.

Window creepers

I see you, peeking down at the road around a half-closed shutter.

Window flaunters

We see you, standing with a glass of wine and a cigarette with a perfect view down onto the finish line that everyone who’s mushed up against the barrier would kill to have.

Un-boozed

Banging on the plastic panels lining the final meters into the finish in an enthusiastic yet still-hinged manner.

Boozed

Ryan Siu

Just murdering that shit.

Cheeky old people

La Planche des Belles Filles was the first Category 1 climb of the 2019 Tour, at seven kilometers and gradients that tipped into 20 percent near the top. Its name translates to “The Plank of the Beautiful Girls,” and references the legend of a group of local girls who fled into the Vosges mountains to escape capture by Swedish mercenaries during the Thirty Years’ War. They committed suicide by throwing themselves off the mountain into the lake below rather than be taken captive.

Ryan Siu

This terrible story that gets repeated every time La Planche is featured in the Tour also set up this terrible exchange between a group of old friends sitting in folding chairs and me as I was mid-climb to the top, and very tired.

Them: “Keep going! The Belles Filles are at the top!”

Me: “Look for the plank, right?”

Them: “Oui!”

Fin.

Old guys just hanging out by themselves

Ryan Siu

LOTS of them. Just there to see what the hubbub’s about. Often reading a newspaper.

Seekers

What’s the point being at the Tour de France if you can’t get proof? And else are you gonna do when Julian Alaphilippe is suddenly two feet away from you? Leave him be? Don’t be stupid.

Autograph kids

At the start of every stage, every rider has to ride up to a big dais on a stage where an emcee is jabbering away in French to a crowd. On the way, they often have to ride along fencing where adorable children beg for autographs and look very sad when a rider goes by without stopping.

Which, in actuality, is surprisingly rare. Most riders stopped, especially if they were among the bigger names. I saw Geraint Thomas, Julian Alaphilippe, Thibaut Pinot, and Peter Sagan — perhaps THE four most popular riders in the 2019 edition of the Tour — all give their time to the kids who wanted their attention, despite being in the throes of one of the most competitive Tours in memory.

Autograph adults

Only got anything signed when they essentially shoved a pen in a rider’s hand and moved it for them.

People who will do anything for the Gram

Ryan Siu

Surprisingly few during the nine stages I saw in 2019, so I’d like to think the world is becoming a better place where people feel less and less compelled to document their every move, even to the potential physical detriment of themselves and others, in hopes of capturing fleeting joy of accruing internet points.

But I also wasn’t in the high mountains like I was in 2014, where Gram-happy fans were a pox.

People who will do anything for a polka-dot hat

Ryan Siu

Of all the iconic pieces of swag at the Tour de France — the hats, the kits, the flags, the signs — nothing is more sought after than any item with polka-dots on it. The dots represent the jersey given to the rider leading the King of the Mountains classification. More importantly, as far as swag goes, they aren’t flat yellow — which feels sacrilegious to wear — or green or white — which are far too boring.

When the caravane comes by tossing out polka-dot hats (brought to you by the fine people at Leclerc superstores), the barriers are crushed with fans. Better to politely ask someone who got two if you can have their spare.

People who will do anything for a glimpse of AlaPinot

As much as fans interfere with the riders of the Tour de France, and as taxing as it must be to deal with knuckleheads on a daily basis while also trying to stay focused on the unfathomably difficult race at hand, it is refreshing to see world-class athletes commune with the people who adore them.

Before each stage, team buses are typically situated near stomach-high metal fencing where fans might be able to stand within 15 feet of riders as they come off the team bus and mill around. For the biggest heros — the Alaphilippes, or Pinots — even just catching a glimpse of their kits through the photographers and journalists surrounding them is a thrill. After all, could you imagine ever getting so close to Tom Brady or Lionel Messi as they stretched?

For lesser riders, you can even have a conversation. And by “lesser” I don’t mean bottom of the peloton riders. I saw Rigoberto Uran, a pre-Tour yellow jersey contender and second-place finisher in 2017, walk off the Education First bus to a group of Colombian fans who had been chanting his name. EF isn’t having the strongest Tour, granted, but the scene was quiet around the bus compared to the French squads, and Uran stood with his arm up on the fence for a good three or four minutes, chatting and smiling with the people who came just to see him.

Then he popped his helmet on and prepared to put his body through hell.

Creatures

Unlike locals, creatures exist solely to stand out amongst the scenery. They’re there to be seen — photographers love them, and they love photographers. Whether anybody else gets a kick out of them is another matter, but also entirely besides the point.

Ryan Siu

Lapinou

Lapinou is a man dressed in a pink bunny costume. Lapinou holds a sign telling you he is Lapinou. Lapinou is the creepiest anthropomorphic bunny since Frank from Donnie Darko.

Zaza and Sasha

Zaza wears a gymnast uniform. Sasha is her brother. You know it’s them because above their camper is an enormous sign that says “ZAZA AND SACHA.” Vehicles in the caravane stop and talk to them on a daily basis.

The Devil

Getty Images

Tales of this man’s demise have been greatly exaggerated. Didi Senft has been a fixture on the Tour since 1993. He’s stuck around long enough to become a mostly welcome sight for fans and riders. He was reportedly going to retire in 2014, but he has continued to attend the Tour, appearing on every stage thus far in 2019.

Bro in far too little clothing

Did you know that people are still busting out Borat mankinis for laughs? In 2019!

Color

Not necessarily a local, but not necessarily looking to be noticed, either, those who add to the color of the Tour de France are perhaps the best, most earnest subset of fans. They’re not trying to stand out, but they shine all the same by making the atmosphere undeniably better.

Belgians

Ryan Siu

The Grand Départ in Brussels showed me what cycling fanaticism truly means.

In many ways, Belgium embodies the Tour better than its eponymous nation. France likes to wield the Tour with a subdued sense of duty. Belgium, a country lopped onto France’s head like a brain slug, wields it like the sack of firecrackers that it is. Belgium regularly gets Tour stages, but not regularly enough to get used to the novelty. Saturday in Brussels will be the first Belgian start for the Tour de France since 2012, and the city is filled to the cracks with decorative yellow and green and polka dot nods to the race.

The people came in many varieties — there were the locals at a Flemish bar, a dad who knew Tiesj Benoot, two old ladies drinking beer in lawn chairs just off their curb — but they all wanted to tell you their best Eddy Merckx story, and they were all supremely friendly.

The people who cheer at everyone who rides a bicycle like they’re in the Tour de France

Before every stage, fans can ride the course on their own. And every one gets cheered like they’re Bernard Hinault. I probably heard “Allez Pinot!” directed 10,000 times to people who definitely weren’t Pinot, and it never got old.

The fans who brought every nation’s flag to the Tour

Louis Bien

An evolution of cheering everyone who rides a bicycle in the Tour de France is bringing a flag of every country represented in the Tour so that, when you find out where someone is from, you can bust out their flag and shout a former national hero at them, like the German man who got “Jan Ullrich! Jan Ullrich!”

The four fans claimed to be from Belgium, Luxembourg, Uzbekistan, and Romania.

Old woman in a bright green vest who blew kisses at every vehicle that passed by

She was miniscule, appeared to be in her 80s, and walking briskly up a mountain at the time.

Guy who spent 15 minutes blowing up an inflatable lobster

No notes.

Amateur cyclists, especially geriatrics with calves of coiled steel

Ryan Siu

A lot of people like to ride their bikes before the Tour de France: some in full kit, some in cargo shorts; some with a tow rope attached around their kid’s bike, some who look and ride like they once hoped to taste Tour glory.

They’re all heroes, especially those who brave the major climbs that the professionals will be taking on later in the day. But none are quite as awe-inspiring as the older set who have faces like your grandma and legs like Pawel Poljanski. They have never gone anywhere except via bicycle, and they are both inspiring and frightening.

Mega cycling legend stuffed in a suit

They will be hauled up on stage to shake hands and be gawked at. They will either appear extremely happy to be there, or extremely uncomfortable. And they will have a look that seems to wonder if perhaps the crowd could love them more.

Bros

Bros dominate the Tour landscape, from big groups of bros to intimate groups of bros, across all ages and levels of verve. Sitting around and drinking in a weird place has been a staple of brohood since the beginning of man, making the Tour perhaps the ultimate bro out event.

Bachelor party bros

Ryan Siu

Soccer is their favorite sport, actually, but the Tour was coming right by and how could you not? Heading to a music festival later.

Old man bros

Sittin’ ‘round a cooler that they hauled up in the trunk. Not into dressing up.

Young bros

Sittin’ ‘round a cooler that they hauled up in the trunk. Shirtless or wearing a team kit and cycling casquette, most likely.

Bros who fiercely stan one rider

Ryan Siu

Usually in groups while wearing matching T-shirts and exhibiting personality traits befitting the riders.

A sampling:

Dumoulin Fan Club: Respectful, demur, cool like the rider himself. Also thoroughly lost, given Dumoulin is rehabbing in another country.

King Küng Freunde, AKA the KKF: Loyal, pensive, and happy to be here.

Sagan Team: Won’t stop jumping up and down for one goddamn second.

Bros in a cycling caravan dragging mini kegs of Heineken down the road

Ryan Siu

Tempting to call them creatures, but their friendship is real and they charm the pants off everyone who stops and talks with them. Plus they make it all the way up a mountain on that contraption.

Campers

The hardest of the hardcore drive themselves to every stage and live out of an RV for three weeks. The people residing in them are a combination of the Locals, Color, and Creatures above. But there are some delineations worth discussing.

River bathers

Showerers

Ryan Siu

Perhaps the biggest distinction among the campers is how they take care of their personal stank. If you can afford it, you get a camper with a fully-equipped shower in it, in which you case you’re probably also the type who will be rolling out an incredible spread of red wine, paté, and fine cheeses on a card table before every stage.

If you can’t afford it, you’re showering at campsites when you can find them, or, in a pinch, rinsing off in a nearby body of water. Your spread will look more like a standard sporting-event fare of salty snacks eaten on top of a cooler, but you will still have a bottle of red wine because you’re in France, for God’s sake.

Caravaners

Ryan Siu

RVs traveling in packs of three or more are particularly impressive because that means sometimes spending hours the night before a stage hunting for the perfect spot big enough to accommodate everyone. Doing that every night for three weeks represents a level of dedication to friendship that is both touching and ill-advised.

DOGS

Lots of people bring their dogs to the Tour de France. They are usually better behaved than their humans, and they are all good.

Officials

People need to run and document this massive three-week enterprise. They walk around with badges and are only semi-sure how anything is supposed to work.

Cops

Ryan Siu

Lots of them! Enough to be their own subspecies. Briefly, we have:

Good cops (Will help you cross the course)

Bad cops (Is upset you asked to cross the course)

Clueless cops (Possibly from out of town, not sure where the course is)

Cops who are taking their jobs way too seriously (Will point you to the 30-minute drive you’re supposed to take to cross the course)

Cops who don’t have nearly enough to do (Will help you cross the course, but first wants to hear about your life for 30 minutes)

Cops who probably aren’t taking their jobs seriously enough (Too busy trying to get a polka-dot hat to help you cross the course)

People with badges and green polos

Tour pro tip: Show up to the course with a yellow lanyard and a plain green polo, and you’ll have free reign over the Tour de France. On race day, no one is more respected than the person who you think looks official.

Over-eager emcee

Simultaneously calling the race for fans at the finish line, while also keeping the atmosphere FUN and ENERGETIC and just, real quick, double checking that everyone is having FUN even though the riders are two hours away still. Incomprehensible except when he’s pronouncing every rider’s name like there’s a period between each syllable, so that Thibaut Pinot is actually TEE. BO. PEE. NO.

Journalists

Also get yellow lanyards. Allowed to wander in the fence sometimes. Have it pretty good, actually.