#party angel st. sugar

[rizumuj]

Party Angel St. Sugar, a magical girl story with fiestas and fiascos, is currently on Ao3 for your reading pleasures!! Enjoy reading, and be sure to share the shimmering story with your magical girl loving friends!! 💖

[dilftaroooo]

Being perverted strikes naturally within Gojo, so when the idea of being a step brother comes to mind during sex he can’t help but act upon the roleplay. You think he’s gross for it, but his questionable passion for it keeps you engaged (oddly enough).

☆word count: 6.3k+

★tags/tw(18+): dark content + stepc*st roleplay + foot f*tish + toe sucking (f!recieving) + dubcon (because reader is unsure at first) + reader is college-aged/gojo is 28 + squirting + age gap + vanilla sex + pubic hairs + scent kink + implied ass eating + hesitancy + reader is afab using she/her pronouns + mentioned latex kink + use of 'satoru-nii' + established relationship + gojo is a lil' mean + and sassy + lots of kissing + nipple play + creampie + getting caught having s*x + exploring kinks + praise kink + pet names + skull fucking + gag reflex + snot + we're talkin' 'big beefy whore with black compression shirt' gojo here + reader is a bit inexperienced + questions of certain kinks.

☆a/n: hey alexa, play 'poundtown by sexyy red' ayyye come suck a bitch's toooes. enjoy y'all, this shit nasty af.

You’re not a kink shamer.

You understand the sexual thrills of getting off to something that turns one on to the point of fulfilled ecstasy–weighted breaths and skin coated with a sheen of sweat from the unorthodox fantasies that provoke the human mind and manipulate the human body, keeping them bound to the shackles of pleasure as their perversion engulfs them whole. It feels beautiful–ethereal, dare you say, and you get that. Who wouldn’t want to feel blissfully satisfied just by mere thought alone? 

Now, exclusive of the deranged fetishes involving children, scat, or whatever fucked up shit out there that's befitting for a lowlife, you would say that you're a pretty open-minded individual. Always tolerating the naughty anecdotes told by your friends’ concerning their past hookups, distinctively remembering the giggles you all shared when reciting one of the stories from a particular friend that had them clad in a latex suit, lips decorated with ruby red, and three-inched heels coming into contact with the cheek of their previous partner as they squirmed in shameless arousal.

‘It was pathetic to see, but I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t get me going…’ And that mutuality between both parties is what makes it even more fun. They both get a kick out of something they enjoyed, so what’s to hate about it?

You’re not a kink shamer–not at all.

You and your boyfriend of a year and four months, Satoru Gojo, always carried the qualities of a couple depicted in unrealistic romance movies: the nuzzle of the nose that tickled your cheek before delving in for a peck, the surprise hugs he’d startle you with as you prepared an early morning breakfast, as well as the intertwined fingers while you both make your way to his favorite bakery (his kisses are even more sugared after scarfing down the kikufuku he’d order no more than a minute ago).

You always felt like the princess to his prince, stumbling over your gown to keep up with his hurried footsteps as you both venture through the gracious evergreen of a mythical forest. You have no time to remove the pastel violet and pink petals slotting themselves in your locks since your hand remains occupied with Satoru’s, moving exquisitely to the melodic song of the nightingales. It was a dream from a childhood storybook.

Moreover, what was revealed in public was, undoubtedly, the same in the comfort of your bedroom, living at your university’s on-campus apartment that you shared with two indifferent roommates. He would frequently stop by after work to spoil you with his affection. Always asking how your day was and whether or not you finished your assignments.

He was a tad bit older than you–twenty-eight and going, but you didn’t mind the age gap, it gives you all the more reason to tease him for his ‘old’ age, to which he responds with a pout and furrowed eyebrows, ‘Oh, how mean! Who would’ve ever thought that my darling angel could be such a devil…?!’ He’d say with faux anguish. He knows you’re only playing around–such the jokester.

Though, he couldn’t say the same for you in bed. Protected by the warmth of your sheets, you relished at how accustomed your body and soul were to his heartfelt transactions, vanilla-flavored sex, so sweet and tasteful on your tongue as he kissed you with want. Tongues twirling a sensual dance as your lips combine in rhythmic harmony. You also loved it when he coos in your ear, reminding you of how you’re so good to him before wrapping his lips around puffy areolas in a way that makes you writhe.

He’s so gentle with you. Handling a fine china cabinet with the utmost care, he makes sure he touches you in ways that wouldn’t break your fragile body. And when your nude skin presses against his as a result of his thrusts to your core, he reminds himself to get you moaning in his ear and get your hands gripping against the muscular curvature of his back.

It feels good. It always feels good. So, why does a part of you feel…bored?

The love is there, you won’t question that. When you come, you feel as though you’re one with the stars. And above all, he praises you. It’s nothing new, but in this context, you like to be his ‘pretty girl’ whenever the tip of his nose pushes against your wet clit. So, why do you feel like something is missing? You don’t know.

You haven’t been in many relationships. The last one you remember was in high school, dating a boy who only loved you out of teenage fever, and you shamefully admit that you reciprocated his confession. You were both young and unknowing of what the aspects of ‘love’ really meant. You never went past the boundary of hand-holding and cheek-kissing, so it remained stagnant until the moment you both broke up.

None of it was mutual, however. You can recall how distraught you were as you bawled in your mother’s arms, asking her what you did wrong while she soothed you with maternal pets to the crown of your head. That being said, it’s safe to say that you really don’t know what’s missing from you and your boyfriend’s intercourse–like, really.

But, thankfully, Satoru makes up for what you lack, telling you not to fret since he knows a lot and letting you know how much he’s been wanting to get to this point of intimacy with you–wanting to whisk his girlfriend away from the comfort zone that you’ve grown so attached to.

Satoru is without exception, enthusiastic to portray more during times of intercourse, yearning to teach you more than just the fluffy, domestic sex you both indulge in. It’s lovely and all, bleh bleh, whatever, Satoru gets it, but, man, what he wouldn’t do to see you on your knees, between his sinewy thighs parted for your form as he hovers above you, your head tilted upwards to take in his thick shaft through wet lips.

He’d make sure his red, throbbing tip hits the back of your throat so he can hear that sickening gag scurry out your mouth paired with the sloppy froth of your saliva slapping against his heavy balls with each quick thrust. He’d be too occupied to find the snot dribbling from your nose revolting because you’d be taking him in so deep.

That’s forever been his little fantasy–that amongst the vast amount of others. And to try each and every one of them with you would be a delight.

After you confessed to Satoru, you couldn’t help but notice how peculiar his ministrations started to get. It was gradual–starting with spanks on your ass to eating said ass. You’ll even bring up the time he used your feet to get off. It caught you off guard, you’d admit.

That day he had you pliable–on your knees with the left apple of your cheek flushed in the pillow beneath you and arms resting idly on your sides as you allowed your enthralled boyfriend to take the lead.

You assumed he was just gonna spit on your already-soaked pussy before massaging your puffy clit in the teasing, clockwise motions he likes to test you with, cock oozing with leakage before languidly gliding upwards to push in-between your cunt lips, but what you didn’t assume he’d do was trace his slimy precum against the soft skin of your toes to then rub his tip across your soles.

You tried to retract your feet away from him (toes wiggling in the process which had them accidentally graze across his balls. You could’ve sworn you heard him hiss) and protest his weird behavior but Satoru was already three steps ahead, firmly gripping both feet and nearly squishing them together if it wasn’t for the thick base of his cock preventing them from touching.

Each thrust he made ached with raw fervor and fuck him from being incapable of suppressing his passion because he couldn’t help but look down and see your cute pussy pucker and asshole twitch. What a sight for sore, cerulean eyes. Just as sore as your ass after he slapped it with an ever-so-firm hand, silently thanking his calluses for the rough impact.

He found it adorable how your shimmering entrance craved for insertion, winking rhythmically at him as though it’s saying, ‘Please fill me up, ‘toru! ‘M so lonely without you…’ (he chuckles to himself at the personification when done in a high-pitched tone).

But your pussy always gets his attention. You have another hole too, ya’ know–one that sits right above it, unused and virginal. Just imagine his excitement as he leans forward, cock still buried at the innermost part of your feet, to take a closer look. He’d smile at your coyness when you felt his hot breath blow on your skin, unsure of his next move.

In this new position, he can trace the faint smell of sweat emerging from you, and God, does that turn him on. More than it already does. So of course he had to steal a taste, trailing a fat strip of saliva against the rim, you squeal at the warm and wet feel of his tongue touching a place it had never been before,

“S-Satoru…what the fuck!” You jolted before moving from your position, migrating to any spot as long as it's far from your lover. You’ll never forget the sleazy look on Satoru’s face as both corners of his rosy lips tilt upwards for a cocky grin–yuck.

It grossed you the fuck out.

Not in a way that antagonizes your boyfriend, you love him too dearly to feel as such, but in a way that questions his morals. Why on earth would someone like Satoru want to be minimized to using the bottom of your soles for pleasure or savor the briny taste of sweat that builds up around the tight ring of your ass? I-I mean, you excrete from there, for God’s sake! That’s gross, especially in a place where the sun doesn’t shine.

You understand that he likes doing it, but why? How could something so perverse and dirty get him hard so quickly? Where’s his shame? His humiliation? His guilt? Were they not present whenever he sneaks a lick at your toes?

Perhaps you are trying to understand–who wouldn’t want to indulge in their lover’s feet, to caress the tough surface of their heels, and lead up their toes, to draw soft lines against them with plush lips as their medium before dipping them inside the wet cavern of their mouth and sucking the small digits before swirling their tongue and–ugh!–no! No, no, no, that’s sick! How can one do such a thing with ease? You can’t possibly imagine that.

But you’re not a kink shamer…right?

Your question remains unanswered, though, as you’re interrupted by Satoru’s moistened kisses trailing down the curve of your neck. You must’ve been in your daze for quite some time considering that the camisole top and loose shorts you lounge in took their positions on your bedroom floor. 

“Come back to me, baby.” You hear your boyfriend murmur and you deliberately oblige by running your digits through the white sea of his mane, wild and free as your fingers feather against his roots. He hums with love before leaving a kiss that's sloppier than the previous one. It starts with your usual routine, with soft and tenderhearted sex.

He pecks at your clavicle and you whimper in return as silvery lashes tickle the most sensitive areas of your skin. The passionate atmosphere continues to flow within the four walls of your room–containing your moans and your kisses and your touches, reverberating them in your heated figures while filling you both with distinct pleasure. It was good so far.

“Have any ideas in mind for tonight, sweetheart?” His voice is muffled as he joyfully sucks at the skin between the valley of your breasts, teeth clasping over the hot flesh to induce a mark darker than what your skin tone provides. You hold onto the fabric of his black shirt, soundlessly wondering why he is still garbed in unbreathable polyester while you remain bare save from your panties.

Lolling your head to the side in thought, you dwell on his question. Should you have something in mind? This isn’t the same as getting asked where to eat for dinner, per se. And owning to your inexperience with sex and fetishes, you’re incapable of bringing anything to the table in this sense.

You open your jaw, mouth filled with saliva due to the raunchy actions performed by your boyfriend onto your supple body, ready to speak your retort as you lick your chapped lips in preparation, but, Satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

“Yeah, I know you don’t,” It’s like he was born to study you. Your eyes travel to his person again, orbs resting upon Satoru’s scalp as you wait for him to finish. “Nothing in that gorgeous head of yours. It’s okay, though. I don’t blame you. I know an amateur like you wouldn’t have anything planned.” 

As might be expected, your brow raises at his comments slightly glazed with a patronizing drip, it’s gotten your attention, all right, as you turn your head to glare down at him. He’s sucking on your nipples this time and you forge a jerk but don’t falter, perked up by this newfound attitude from your loving partner.

“Oh?” You start and it carries the same uppity weight as his tone. “And I suppose you have it all figured out?”

He nods right after gazing up at you with arctic globes saturated with a heavy rush of sincerity and you can already feel the dreamy sigh materializing in your throat but never emerging. Satoru immediately sniffed out the indignance behind your words like a trained bloodhound. He rises from his spot upon your heaving chest to travel his way to the swoll of your chin, apologizing with a quaint kiss. 

“I do,” His smile is affectionate. “You know I always do, sunshine.” You gasp once something hard nudges against your squishy thighs before poking the outermost part of your panties.

“-Always think of something for that little cunt.” It isn’t long before it's cast to the side for clear access to your glimmering slit, doused in slick because your boyfriend had a remarkable way of handling you. He didn’t miss the embarrassed mewl of his name when he used filthy words.

He also didn’t miss the pull of air you took in as his thick finger swept up your bodily remnants, coating the fingertips of his middle and ring finger. You voluntarily buck your feeble hips in desire for him to push through your entrance but you know he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. “You know, it gets me going when we do stuff like this when others aren’t around–when we do something so forbidden.” 

What–?

“Forbidden…?” Each syllable muddles your tongue as you ponder on its meaning: something that typically isn’t allowed or accepted–you’re not unaware, it’s a simple word, but is that the word he meant to say? “Why would it be forbidden? You’re my boyfriend, are you not?” Unless there’s something you’re unknowing of.

Perhaps he has a wife that he kept hidden in the shadows of his past. What if one wife turned into several wives? Maybe he’s a bloodthirsty murderer, ready to indulge in his next killing after getting you to trust his charming blue eyes and pink-liped smile. You don’t exactly know what the forbidden aspect of it all that he’s keeping from telling you-

You hear him ‘tsk’ and you assume it was meant to be taken seriously but it seems covered in mockery.

“Hah, Boyfriend? Have you no shame?” And he chuckles deep and grimy. “Don’t act like don’t know, dear.” You honestly don’t. “What would our parents think if they saw you, my sweet, little sister, grinding her greedy pussy against her older brother’s fingers?”

Oh.

Oh God.

Gritting your teeth for an evident cringe, you hurriedly toss your head to the side to break eye contact (how did he even manage to hold it for that long despite what he just said?!). There’s no way he’s doing this. Out of all kinks…

“For the love- Satoru. Stop, that’s fucking-” A sharp whine halts your sentence, stressed to the point of exaggeration. You don’t bother looking back up at him, already imagining his brows creasing with complaint at your disgusted remark.

“Ehh, what happened to ‘Satoru-nii’?” You almost would’ve forgotten the fingers sketching light circles on your sensitive button, going in for a pinch before tapping it aimlessly due to its slippery surface.

You clench your thighs together but Satoru’s heaping form prevents you from doing so. He’s a big mass of muscle reminiscent of a bull–broad shoulders along with thickened veins peeking through tough skin in the forms of streams, carrying the pulsing blood flow of adrenaline and transporting through each significant section of the body to energize his raging carnality.

“Are my fingers dwindling your vocabulary already? I just started using this pussy, sugar plum.”

A part of you wanted to believe he was joking–trolling like he usually does on literally every occasion. He knows how acquiescent you were in situations like these. So easily obedient to follow his golden rule when clinging to his hip, taking full advantage of your attributes to get you to do the perverted shit that spoiled his brain to corruption.

Of course, there’d be times when you’d retaliate, shouting out a brief ‘no’ before leaving the conversation unfinished, but it’s okay because he can butter you up to your good side. Use his words and his hands to do the convincing. Satoru has attributes of his own too.

But gazing into his eyes and seeing how aquatic blue dissolves into crimson red, only driven by lust, tells you he’s serious.

You look off to the side once more because staring at your nightstand is more soothing than staring at your deviant boyfriend. Out of all kinks, why this one?

“I don’t,” You close your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself free from his piercing glare. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You weren’t about to do this. You weren’t about to play into his wicked fantasies of being a relative of any sort. That doesn’t sound appealing at all.

“Don’t be like that, babe.” He mutters softly as if other people were in the room, prying with open ears to catch whatever dialogue is being transmitted between the two of you. A fingertip taunts at your sloppy entrance, just barely shoving past its tight grip. Sexual anticipation surged through your core at his ministration (his giggles at your hopelessness didn’t help you any). “You won’t know unless you try. Come on, do it for me?”

He’s too cute to refuse when your peripherals pick up his bottom lip raising upwards for a pout and feather-like lashes fluttering over glossy, blue orbs. Practically, begging you to follow through with this look alone–if only he wasn’t so handsome and used his charm against you in every way possible. God damn it-

“You’re sick, you know that?”

“Then you’re my antidote.”

You exhale in defeat since you unfortunately realize there’s no way out of this. Satoru’s too adamant to get you to play along with him, it’s insane. Turning your head to fully face him, which feels like the one-millionth time you’ve done so, you look him in the eye before aiming at the button of his nose, upturned and perky. Mentally getting ready to produce the God-forsaken words you are about to utter.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You start and the way Satoru’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas irks you. 

You still feel mortification swirl in your skull like second nature. Your cheeks feel hot and it hurts–were you really about to do this?

Satoru was still teasing you to no end. Teasing that doubtlessly wet pussy with expertise. He was killing you by not giving you what you craved, only remaining on the surface as he waited for your verdict. Just one more push, one more shove and you’ll get there.

“And why is that?” He inquires.

Your bottom lip quivers with hesitation before an erotic groan escapes you. He’s so close to putting them inside. “Because you’re-” You pause to wait for a sliver of courage to finish your sentence. You’re not sure if you can-

“...I’m?” He continues.

You both catch on to the shaky breaths you’re letting out, two separate bodies feeling two separate emotions, one agitated and the other electrified.

“You’re my,” You tense but Satoru loosens. “-my b-brother.” He’s the Cheshire cat as of now. You wail once two fingers invade your thirsty hole, entering with a mushy squelch.

“And what is it that we’re doing, huh? What is it that we’re doing that would be so revolting to the public eye, hm? Tell me.” Can he stop pushing you already, for crying out loud?

“You fingering my, my,”

“You got it, keep going.”

“...fingering my p-pussy.”

Satoru cherishes your hesitance and rewards you, his obedient puppy. 

Digits curl upwards in search of that sensitive g-spot resting amongst your gushy insides. If applied enough pleasure, he’d be able to see how your back arches off your cotton sheets. Your mouth opens for a silent scream as the force of his fingers supports the buildup of liquid passion, pounding the area in addition to his palm rubbing your stiff clit the deeper he goes.

“There you go, my sweet girl, my gorgeous, little sister.” He fingers you harder and sucks at your erect nipples–when did they get so hard? As a matter of fact, when did your body feel so hot and needy? As though you’re deprived of something. 

Your boyfriend sucks at your tit before biting the small nub, grazing his teeth along sensitive skin for a chomp, causing your hands to fly to his head and grip the fur of his undercut, all while wincing in pain. He retracts his head with your nipple still in his mouth, giving it a stern tug like an elastic rubber band. You would have cursed him out if it wasn’t for the fingers still beating at your nether regions.

“Ah, S-Satoru!” He bites harder and you remember his request from earlier. “Satoru-nii.”

As if you hear a winner's buzzer, he hums in approval and releases before gorging his lips around the other one, gently guzzling it this time, skillfully whirling his wet appendage around the nub in combination with hungry sucks. He unloosens with an obnoxious, wet pop!

“M’so glad your mom married my dad. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be able to take care of my little sister’s pussy like how I’m doing now. Wouldn’t that be so sad?!” He inquires gleefully. “I’d be so miserable–jerking myself off to meaningless porn when I could be stuffing my big dick deep inside your aching cunt. Hearing you moan out how much you love your older brother for making you squirt your sticky juices all over me. You even got your hairs trimmed in the way you know I love.”

The sound of fabric grinding against fabric fills your ears as he maneuvers his head to reach down to your pelvis, stuffing his nose on top of the shortened pubes, his mouth hangs dangerously over your clitoris.

He takes in a deep breath like he’s smelling the fresh air of healthy trees and freshly cut grass, basking in your heady scent while feeling his cock go rigid in the plush of your mattress. 

Too aroused to feel embarrassed, you buck your hips so you can finally get his mouth on your itching button and he finally compels, switching between sucking in your clitoral hood and tonguing your labia. Satoru moves his fingers faster in hopes of provoking your climax. He knows your proximity by noting the way your thighs tremble and toes spread across your sheets.

You finally get to the stage you’ve been craving since the beginning of this session. Releasing your fluids onto your awaiting boyfriend, the grip at the nape of his neck more powerful than before, you squeal a brief ‘Satoru-nii!’ as he proceeds to lap at your overstimulated pussy. He’s now sparkling with your juices. Satoru sits up on his knees after wrapping his buff arm around the width of your shoulders to hoist you up and get you closer to his thighs, your figure remains seated as you process what he wants you to do–he wants you to suck him off.

So you lean your sweat-stained face over his clothed member and unwrap it like a Christmas present you’d save for last because it's so big. His cock springs up rudely and smacks at his now naked abdomen (when did he take off his shirt?) with a loud clap. His abs are so detailed and his pecks puff out in pride while he looks down on you, like his little servant.

He controls the length of his cock with a stern hand and traces ivory white lipstick over the plump of your mouth, a hazy web of precum connecting to your upper lip.

“Wrap those beautiful lips over my cock, darling angel. You know it makes me happy to see you stuffed full with my dick, no matter the hole.” He cheeses when he hears a quick scoff come out of you.

You listen anyhow, swallowing the tip of your big brother’s rod, hallowing your cheeks like a skeleton to circling your tongue around its rosy circumference. You feel your remaining cum dribble onto your bed when you hear him make a guttural moan from above. Clenching his ass cheeks as fingers place themselves on top of your head like an armrest, laying idly as of now.

“Oh shit, baby, yeah, just like that. Keep sucking me off juuust like that.” He bucks his hips impatiently once you decide to devour him up to the mid-base, continuing the actions of sucking in your cheeks to tighten around his cock. “Fuck!” He mewls before chuckling humorlessly.

He stares down and you look up. Your eyelids roll back til they’re just below your brow ridge to catch sight of azure undertones. You were just about to wonder why he was tittering until pressure made its way to both sides of your head. When his pearly white smirk twinkled under dim lighting, that's when you knew-

“Hmphh,” The noise was pitiful when subdued by the heavy weight of Satoru’s cock.

“Hold still, pretty girl.” He coos before pushing his hips back and applying the same manner to your head as he controlled you effortlessly and then thrusting forward and forcing your head to do the same. His balls slap on impact with your chin when he buries himself deep into the hot cavern of your throat, you have your nostrils planted on the silvery wisps of his pubes, reeking of potent masculinity. He leaves you in that position, powerless as he ignores the smacks to his meaty thighs.

“Hold it,” He warns. His voice is pitched below the Earth’s surface. “Gotta teach you how to please big bro properly.” You fight hard as his tip keeps irritating the thing that hangs at the back of your throat, trying to oppose your body from naturally activating your gag reflex but it ends up being fruitless. Your throat convulses as it bulges with his cock print and you cough out an ugly sound. Your vision blurs once you feel your eyes start to water up. You want him to move back already!

“Good.” It’s like he heard your thoughts because he finally retracts from his perfect spot lodged in your gullet. His swollen tip tickles the surface of your lips as you gasp several breaths of air. Just what was he thinking? You could’ve puked!

“What the hell was- mmph!” Halted by another intrusion of his cock burying itself in the pits of your throat, you muffle out a sound of surprise. You couldn’t believe it.

Satoru starts, “Less talking from you, sunshine. I wanna hear you slobber on my dick. Think you can do that for me?” He quickens up the pace of his thrust, going at the speed of someone walking. You gag disgustingly at each thrust and you can feel snot starting to leisurely slip from your nose (just what he wanted to see).

“That’s a messy girl, my messy sister. Got you, hah, so worked up you even got snot dripping from your nose and your spit running down my balls. Oh, you don’t know how much I longed for this.” He resumes his praises and tips back his head for a howl, feeling himself approaching his end as he hears you glurg, glurg, glurg on his veiny member.

“Oh shit, shiiit…!” Suddenly, you’re abruptly pushed off of him, freeing your esophagus from the restraint. Your back lands on the bed with a thud, your landing protected by your doughy comforter. Satoru stands motionless as he recovers from edging himself to oblivion. Biting his lip, his cock twitches up and down before it gradually remains unmoving.

You don’t even remember it happening, but you’re already restricted underneath Satoru’s panting body, thighs folded backward for a mating press, squeezing your squishy tits together, and feet perched on top of his shoulders. He takes his infamous spot between your legs, his overworked hands, decorated in calluses and scars, cuff around the underside of your knees.

He gifts you a heated kiss on your lips. “‘Toru-nii-” You say while struggling to keep up with his tongue. He breaks away from you and the string of saliva snaps into two.

“I hear you, baby, want me inside you already, I know, hear you loud ‘n’ clear.” His tip finds your entrance and it's sopping wet tenfold. He’s never seen you so needy in his life. He pushes in slowly and smoothly. Relishing your moans as he delves within you inch by inch, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. You squirm in lascivious desire each time he enters you.

“I know, sugar, I know…” He soothes you upon hearing your sobs go up an octave. His head rests at the empty spot next to your neck and his hair tickles the crevice. “Almost there.”

As soon as he sinks deep in your warm cunt, he pecks your cheek with a softness that resembles duck feathers in a pillow before plummeting into you. A pornographic squelch resounds through your room.

“Hnn, T-Toru-nii is, so deep, ah, in my pussy!” You yelp. He’s so glad you’re still following his gross footsteps. So dazed by his cock hitting every ridge nestled within you.

“Yes, that’s right, little sis. And you’re gonna be a good girl and take it for me, right?”

You give a nod, “Yes, I will. I always will. Just f-for you.”

“Mmm, that’s right. That’s what I like to hear.” 

He inclines his torso backward, finding his attention on the feet placed at each side of his shoulders, more specifically, the one to his left as he grabs your ankle with ease, stroking the bone and putting your pedicured toe between wanting lips, your french tips hitting the roof of his mouth while lapping at your salty skin.

His pelvis hammers into you at a steady rate in combination with the gushes emerging from both sexes, it's so damn loud, you’re quite sure your Resident Assistant will come banging at your door frantically, telling you to lower it down because of the noise complaints that lead to your room.

You giggle, not just at the thought but at how much it tickles to feel Satoru’s tongue swirl around each toe.

“Satoru, that tickles.” You quip and the aforementioned man stares at you with knowing lids, purposely tasting your soles which have you trying to take your foot away, but the position you’re in makes it impossible.  

You feel as though hours go by as your older brother pushes on with fucking you silly and having a makeout session with your foot. His v-line collides with your poor pussy on every steady beat and you can’t help but let your earlier accusations fall from your mind like slippery soap.

The revulsion, the distaste, the discomfort–all of which were confined in a silk-woven case, trapped and compacted hitherto its evolution of approval. Although tentativeness plagues its cycle, the result remains beauteous as a cherry red butterfly protrudes through the rotten surface of the cocoon. The successful escapee finally swarms the sky with a setting sun.

It feels good. You feel good. Your pussy feels good as your step brother pounds it with intent–with purpose. You wiggle like a fearful worm ready to be eaten once the need to release creeps up slowly.

“My little sister always manages to feel so good. This pussy is just gripping me so fucking tightly and-” He stops abruptly and so do your moans as you hear your front door creak open.

The sound of jiggling keys and the chaotic trembling of plastic bags alert both your ears as you hear the door slam shut accompanied by a relieved sigh. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand–‘10:35 PM’. One of your roommates is back from work. Coming home to rest easy from their enervating shift, she wants nothing more than to take a scalding hot shower, laze in her bed, and listen to nothing but silence as she drifts off to sleep.

But before those temptations come into play, she first wants to check up on you to see if you’re still in your room. Walking up sluggishly to your door, she raises a hand to prepare a few knocks while you and Satoru both stare wide-eyed at the shadow that occupies the crevice beneath your bedroom door–still like Michelangelo's statues.

“Hey, (Name), you in there?” The pause is long as you look up to Satoru and see his gaping mouth transform into a smirk before turning your attention to the door.

“Uh, yeah, I’m here. What’s up?” You ask, slightly hoping that your answer will satisfy her queries on your safety before retreating to her room.

“After work, I took a quick trip to the store for some wings and frozen pizza if you’d like some. Even got honey-barbeque-” You smile at her gentle antics. She remembered your favorite flavor.

“Oh, thanks, I really appreciate th-oh!” You’re stopped once Satoru resumes pounding your sloppy pussy. You cover your mouth in an attempt to conceal your yap but a strong hand grabs both wrists to cuff them above your head.

“Keep talkin', sis. Can’t leave mom pondering, now can we?” He whispered with precaution. That devious little-

“H-Hey? Are you okay?” The squishy slaps of both Satoru’s precum and your wet fluids compose a cacophonic symphony. Shit, if he keeps going, you’ll- 

“Yeah, m-mhm. I-I’m, fuuuck, fine.” Satoru grins maniacally above you his hot breath pasts your cheek and into your ear. The tip of his cock abuses your cervix as he compacts you tightly under giant muscle, arms littered with bulging purple and blue veins as he keeps you steady. His pubes tickle your clit whenever his hips kissed yours. Both breaths were getting heavy.

“Are you sure, you sound…sick.” Her words were laced with worry as she stood there, unmoving. “Do you need for me to come in?”

Satoru finds her naivety hilarious but decides it's time to break the barrier. He does so by raising his hips to an exaggerated extent before hammering back into you, the sound much louder than before as clapping fills the atmosphere. He guarantees your roommate will pick it up. Which she does.

“Wait, are you-” She gasps when she hears your sobbing moans echo in her ears. “Oh my God.” You’re too fucked stupid to give a reply when she blurts out an embarrassed ‘sorry!’ before taking hurried footsteps away from your door.

“Guess we scared her off, huh?” Knowing damn well he was the one who only made the effort to let your roommate know you were being pounded to oblivion. “Think she’s gonna tell everyone about this? Tell everyone how her son and daughter ruin the family name because we were caught fucking each other in your room?” He’s quick to pick up in your roleplay.

“Hnngh, I don’t know, ‘Toru.”

“I’m quite sure she will. What do you say, sweet girl, how about we both give a real reason to soil the family name and let me come in this pussy?” His thrusts start to stutter with each filthy word–cream drips from your cunt and down to the tight rim of your ass. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you groan quietly.

“Answer me now, sweetheart, or Satoru-nii is gonna-”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck. Please come inside me, please, ‘don’t care about anyone in this family but you! Come inside me, Satoru-nii!”

With that being said, he fulfills your wish by giving you one, big thrust and stilling his cock deep in his little sister’s pussy to pump his hot seed in increments. Whimpering loudly as he does so. His face contorts in the cutest grimace that you wish you could smooch. You heavily breathe in unison until he pulls out of you (fingering his remaining cum back into your fluttering hole).

He kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and lastly your lips before saying, “You did so well for me.”

And it’s after this session that have you thinking–‘perhaps you do get it’.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! Could you recommend some fics with them texting on smartphones? I only read a few and I was wondering if there were maybe more I couldn't find. Thank you for everything you do! ^^

Hi! You might be interested in the fics we have on our #social media tag. And here are some fics in which Aziraphale and Crowley text each other...

My Gift is My Song (This One's For You) by ElloPoppet (T)

“I just - I don’t know that I’d know where to start.” Aziraphale says, and he’s wringing his hand in front of his belly, looking rather distressed about it all, and that won’t do.

“Well, you know, I could send you some music every now and again if you had a mobile,” Crowley offers, as if it’s something casual, as if he nearly every song doesn’t make him think of Aziraphale in some way, like he hasn’t been tempted to make a century’s worth of mix-tapes for the celestial being in front of him, the one who is starting to look...like he may be considering.

(Or, Crowley talks Aziraphale into getting a mobile via promises of music education and bird pics.)

I’d rather be so oblivious by rottingflower (T)

The world survived a potential Armaggedon, but it's not entirely certain whether it'll survive two lovesick idiots with plenty of more time to text.

Or:

Crowley and Aziraphale take a little holiday, make bad decisions, and text. A lot. And sometimes terrorize Gabriel, but that's all par for the course.

Texts from an Unknown Number by GaryOldman (T)

The human wrong number AU I have been craving.

Trapped at a boring Halloween party, Aziraphale tries to get in touch with Gabriel but his text ends up in the wrong place.

Sweet as Honey: An angel's guide to seducing your sugar daddy by angelsnuffbox (E)

It was one thing to suddenly learn that you had a sugar daddy, and a whole other to realise you’ve been in love with him for more than a year. But Aziraphale couldn’t be blamed for it, exactly. He’d had other worries on his mind. But with this new epiphany came another question that now had to be addressed: If Crowley was his sugar daddy, why on earth weren’t they having sex?

Of Size and other Matters by LCwrites (E)

When Crowley gets a random text from an unknown number, he thinks it must be a joke at first. Turns out it's by a rather amusing stranger who might have an interesting matter at hand.

Aziraphale just wants to get an upcoming function over with and not have people trying to set him up with anyone. At least whoever accidentally received his message seems to take the mishap with humour.

Rearrangements by sheendav (E)

Aziraphale, a lonely anxious bookseller from Soho, walks in St. James park every Wednesday and Sunday.

For nearly nine months he has had various, wordless, encounters with a very handsome red-haired man with sunglasses.

They have never spoken, but a strange and lovely intimacy has slowly grown between them as they share the same space, and feed the ravenous ducks by the pond.

It's all been rather lovely... and then one day... the red-haired man says 'hello.'

UPDATE: Rated 'E' for chapters 13 and 16, see beginning notes for warnings on all other chapters. Reads as an ACE-friendly story through Chapter 12, though acknowledges the existence of sexuality in earlier chapters.

- Mod D

[asolle]

Click the link to download or stream Music Music Music summer 2023 episode 3: https://app.box.com/s/8ynqetgzf6s3i8c3o1161nyurqp3tzjd

Playlist:

Girl and Girl - Dance Now Bruno Mars - Locked Out of Heaven The Staple Singers - I'll Take You There Rose Rose - Sugar Hill Lil Nas X - That's What I Want We Were Promised Jetpacks - Ships with Holes will Sink Kassa Overall - So Happy Dangerdoom - Crosshairs Smog - Butterflies Drowned in Wine MF Doom - One Beer Jacuzzi Boys - Rather Blue Duran Duran - Hungry Like the Wolf Starfucker - Rawnald Gregory Erickson the Second The Go-Go's - Unforgiven The Smile - The Smoke Jenny Lewis - Joy Y'all The Incredible Moses Leroy - 1983 Kid Cudi - Pursuit of Happiness Les Claypool's Frog Brigade - Riddles are Abound Tonight Bully - Days Move Slow Daft Punk - Infinity Repeating Jack Johnson - Traffic in the Sky St. Vincent - Year of the Tiger Wavves - Super Soaker The Phenomenal Handclap Band - The Right One Courtney Barnett - Nobody Really Cares If You Don't Go to the Party King Krule - From the Swamp Flying Lotus - Never Catch Me Holy Ghost! - Escape from Los Angeles

[roseandbee]

Love on Tour St Louis

So let me preface this by a quick rundown:

I'd been avoiding previous concert videos to give myself a bit of surprise and haven't watched any from this one (yet!)

I have visual problems and some memory issues so if I didn't catch something or misremember something, sorry

I've been to two Live on Tour shows (2018)

In case you missed it- no concert photos or videos here but if you don't mind, keep reading. If you do, please just skip!

Should I do this by setlist or my random memory order?? Lol so my view:

Treat People with Kindness was everything I wanted it to be- everyone just going fuck it and dancing. The energy of it was awesome. Combining it with WMYB and an up-tempo Canyon Moon was sheer genius in terms of instant dance party, which is exactly what you want at a concert, right? I think I got second and third winds by osmosis (I...do not generally have that much energy all at once but it was palpable). I happened to catch the entirety of The Sunglasses during WMYB, and it was the best. H caught them and I think we had a brief mind meld of something like "Covid? But. Elton. Fuck it! Yassss" I was lucky enough to have the perfect view of The Pose with the flag aloft, boa and sunglasses framing that gleeful proud face. Beautiful.

Woman, Carolina, and Only Angel: full respect to them adding to the overall dance party. Woman seemed especially even better with the new band. Carolina had awesome trippy imagery and was a total blast. Only Angel had the pride flags flying, which got me a little emo, ngl, but didn't slow me down. Truly ty H for not putting those three together as well bc I would have collapsed, y'all.

Adore You- I adore you. Missed opportunity call-out @ Harry for not reading the fish joke sign before/after this one. Peculiar choice 😉

Bookending with Golden and Kiwi, respectively, were perfect choices. Golden kicked the concert off just as well as it did the album, and Kiwi left us not wanting to stop the party. The band continuing so long after Harry exited was perfect. Pretty sure that adrenaline was responsible for me staying up as long as I did after I finally got home, not to mention just keeping my energy up long enough for me to get home safely, period.

Two Ghosts/Falling hit me just as hard as the sheer idea of it did. The only way to make it even better (worse) would be to relive the music videos. (Also fuck me for not checking the screens?? Did we get anything on those? I was so focused on not crying I didn't see).

Watermelon Sugar had me repeating the silly joke to myself that if you don't know the words just sing "Watermelon" over and over bc my ears decided to pop around then and to begin with I didn't know what tf was happening but I thought it was WS intro. (Y'all be smarter than me and remember to bring earplugs if you need them). Ahem. I then tried to hurt my throat singing along. I don't think I was alone in that. As it should be.

Let's keep with the fruit. Cherry! Was! Beautiful! More trying to hurt my throat. Excellent. A fan near me had a mask with cherries on it and I saw others here and there with cherries and other fruit (tastefully done- if you didn't, sorry my mind bleach took over).

Harry started Sunflower Vol. 6 with the alien noises, and I lost it y'all. And then he had us join in, except I was grinning and giggling too much. Awkward silly Harry is the best. The. Best. Boop boop boop boop. Missed opportunity call-out @ me for forgetting to wear my sunflower pin. Sigh. Next time?

She. She was perfection, from the note changes to the soulful delivery to the pride flags I saw in the crowd. And let's just give an extra special mention to Mitch and the guitar solo. Like. Bless whatever person or force made it so he faced my side of the crowd so I could properly experience that brilliance. I have been in love with that solo since I first heard it on the album, and live was something I will never forget. I don't even know what I was doing exactly while he played but I was very happy to find I wasn't remotely alone in thunderously cheering his performance when it was over.

Fine Line. God. What can I even say. Ethereal? Healing? Beautiful? Pick another adulating adjective ? The title track never disappoints.

Sign of the Times. So H messed up slightly iirc at the beginning but I didn't even care bc so did I! Lol I've gotten too used to the album version again. Harry finished strong though, and it was beautiful as always. I'll repeat my wish that it never leaves the setlist.

Lights Up. Okay I saved my fave of the night for last. It was just extra special hearing those words sung live, and singing it with that many people was extra cathartic and healing. I think a lot of us sung that with our whole chest- we're not ever going back.

I want to be an old lady with a walker still swaying and trying to hit those notes while H is still up there dancing and doing gorgeous note changes, and I feel blessed to have gotten this chance again to witness the force that is that beautiful soul on stage. Thank you to anyone and everyone who helped me get there and/or helped me enjoy it!

Special mention to some fans (in no particular order):

As mentioned- the person with the fish joke! I can't totally remember how it went but it was pretty punny

I'm pretty sure I saw another punny joke up front but I couldn't read it- I still appreciate you!!

The person with the sign saying "You make this feel like home" - 🥺💕

Everyone with variations on simply "I love you" & "Welcome" & the like just made me happy

Everyone who gave special shout-out's to the band!! I think I saw a mention for all of them in various signs plus I appreciate that I saw no one leave until they left bc they all brought it just as hard as Harry and seemed happy to do so

Everyone who wore sequins (magpie hours-I appreciate you)

The fan(s) who got those glorious sunglasses on stage!! Iconic

Everyone celebrating their birthday but cheers especially to the one celebrating "in Style" bc okay well played (and imma assume you meant that fully innocently)

Absolutely everyone showing their pride - for Harry and for themselves - bless us all for bringing the love to Love on Tour

[mctherofdragons]

Piece by Piece | F.W.

“He'll never walk away. He'll never break her heart. He'll take care of things, he'll love her. Piece by piece, he restored my faith that a man can be kind and a father should be great.” // Piece by Piece, Kelly Clarkson

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem! Reader 

Summary: As a father, Fred is everything a man should be. 

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Reader has an absent/abusive father, “daddy issues”, unplanned pregnancy, parenthood, but honestly this is dad!Fred fluff <3 

AN: I have a terrible relationship with my father and lots of trauma from that, and a close friend of mine on here does, too. We were chatting about it and how we dream that our future daughters are ‘daddy girls’. Thus, I wrote this oneshot. Honestly, it was so healing to write and gave me all sorts of emotions. I hope you enjoy, even if you can’t entirely relate. 

✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧

You leaned against the kitchen island, holding a cup of warm coffee in your hands. You took slow sips, watching your husband, who was seated on the floor with your daughter.

Fred’s legs were practically touching his chest as he sat in the tiny, child-sized chair. He held a plastic teacup between his thumb and forefinger. Holding it out toward her, he raised an eyebrow. “I’ll have one sugar in my tea, miss.”

Your daughter giggled. “Daddy! You already has four sugars in there!”

It was something you had never known. You had hoped and prayed for your daughter, even before her conception, that this would be the love she knew. You longed to keep her from the ache of uncelebrated Father’s Days and broken promises. The hole left behind by your father was like an abyss. It swirled deep within you - its very being beckoning you to wonder about your worth and ability to be loved. 

But Fred put your fears to rest. When she was first born, he looked at her like the most precious thing he’d ever seen. On that cool April morning when Fred had held her for the first time, he was unable to control the tears that spilled down his happy cheeks.

“She’s beautiful. Oh, she’s ours. Hello, my little darling,” he had cooed, walking around the hospital room at St. Mungos, cradling her gently in his arms. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her tiny head, moving to adjust the pink knitted hat Molly had made her.

You had been so afraid the day you told Fred about your pregnancy. It was five years earlier, although the memory graced your mind as if it had been yesterday. You were so young - just graduated from Hogwarts and barely making it in your entry-level position at the ministry. You were living life as a fresh-faced and spritely witch with the world open to you, now suddenly faced with two blue lines on a pregnancy test and uncertainty about your options.

When you told him, you were seated with him on your couch. You had your eyes focused on the red, blinking ‘W’ on his Weasley Wizard Wheezes tie, lips trembling as you braced for his goodbye. Your father’s face was clear in your mind - his words dripping with venom rather than love. In your chest, your heart shattered at the thought of your daughter reaching for a ghost the way you had your whole life. Rather than a father, you had a phantom who had left you cold and lonely. His face was haunting. It was that face that caused you to shield yourself from love for years until Fred Weasley had used his humor and charm to create tiny cracks in your armor until it had fallen nearly completely.

All of the years of self-deprecation about your ‘daddy issues’ couldn’t protect you from the blow of this moment, sitting across from Fred, knowing you had turned out almost exactly like your mother. “I’m giving you an out, Fred. No harm, no foul. I won’t...ask for child support or anything. You can leave.”

But, no goodbye came. Rather, the freckled-faced, redheaded young man next to you cupped your face and promised to love you and your baby - forever.

“I’m not going anywhere. I love you. I already love our baby.”

For the first few months, things were far from easy. Fred worked tirelessly at the shop. He would return on Sunday nights, feet aching after a sixty-hour week. But your daughter never wanted for a single thing. Despite his tiredness, Fred would walk softly into her nursery, where he’d find you gazing over her crib. He would come next to you and look down at your daughter with you, thinking to himself that there was nothing in the world that could ever touch the love he had for the tiny human you had created through your love.

Now, little Molly was five years old. She loved unicorns and princesses. Often, Fred would humor her, allowing her to place her tiny feet onto his shoes, dancing with her around the living room. In her tiny blue dress and crown, she was a Cinderella, content to dance with her father all day if she could. She looked at Fred like he hung on the moon. But the truth was, to both you and Molly, he did.

You came and sat on the couch opposite them both now, content to sip your creamy, sweetened coffee as they had their tea party. “Mommy! I want to watch Punzel, pwease!” Molly ran over the television in her bare feet, practically jumping up and down. You laughed and nodded, allowing Fred to get up and turn on Tangled - for probably the seventh time that week alone. Molly had a bit of an issue fully pronouncing the princess’s name, but you and Fred only found it all the more endearing.

The three of you cuddled on the couch with Molly between you. You pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, spreading it across the three of you. Your daughter rested her head on Fred’s chest as she watched, laughing loudly and clapping during the songs. When the movie was in its final scene, Molly had crawled onto Fred’s lap. Cupping her tiny hands, she whispered something in his ear and he nodded.

She took off running like a bolt of tiny lightning. You looked at Fred confused. Just as fast as she had left, she returned with a tiny, black box in her hand. “Open it Mommy!”

Rapunzel was still singing on the screen about her enchanted flower as you opened it. Inside of the box, a beautiful yet simple ring was waiting for you. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked over at Fred. He was grinning from ear to ear as Molly jumped up and down, holding your hand excitedly.

“Daddy wants to marry you like Flynn marries Punzel! Will you marry Daddy, Mommy?!”

Joyful tears spilled down your cheeks as you nodded, allowing Fred to slip the ring onto your finger. Fred gave you a soft kiss on the lips. “I love you, y/n,” he whispered, staring into your eyes.

“Daddy! What about me?”

He lifted her up, making her giggle as he attacked her face in kisses. “And I love you, my little angel!” He had flipped her down onto the couch, attacking her with tickles now. Molly’s tiny and gleeful giggle filled the living room. The sound of your daughter made you cry more, but for once a father was causing you to weep happy tears. And for that, you were grateful.

[dented-nado]

Well since you specifically asked: Twiddler

“Yah I like Eddie but he’s straight // BAD LUCK, HUH?”

“No he’s not”

“NO IM NOT??”

Shenanigans

I’m dying right now, the ol’ Harv(ey) stubbornly thinks that Edward fucking Nygma is s  t r a  I g ht love it.  Still one of my fave convos we’ve ever had.

==================

Eddie’s POV

 =====================

It had been about a year since he had joined the sort of halfway home that Bruce Wayne had opened up for Ex-Rogues. However Eddie was somewhat convinced the billionaire he now realized had been Batman the whole time (pfft, he totally could have figured that out… he just… hadn’t…) rather liked having he, Harley, and Harv(ey) as a sort of odd band of roommates. And well… a literal mansion wasn’t a bad place to stay in by any stretch of the imagination.

He certainly had expected (and been quietly and not so quietly jealous) that because Harv(ey) and Bruce had apparently been close as far back as when they were children, Wayne would certainly be ecstatic to have Two-Face hanging around. He still was a little bit taken a back that well… anyone would want him around.

But he really was trying to reform. Maybe part of it was because the routine had gotten boring and he’d started finding more quiet and less destructive games and puzzles more entertaining these days. Besides, he realized he could have more fun with such things when he wasn’t being hauled back to Arkham because he’d taken things a little too far so often.

That being said, he had a new focus, a new goal.

And that was the previously mentioned Harv(ey) Dent. The giant, the absolute unit that towered over him.

Two souls for the price of one. Harvey was quietly intelligent (though sometimes a little bit delightfully oblivious), kind, and soft. Then Harv, he was bold, had a wonderfully fun fashion sense, and had a gravelly voice that admittedly caused Eddie’s mind to pull a blank at times.

They were a man that could have half their face burned to a crisp with acid and still be the only man that had been in Arkham (in Edward’s opinion) that could really get it.

He still remembered the first time “two-face” had been escorted into Arkham, the sight of them had knocked the wind right out of him, completely stopped his plotting for his next attempt to outsmart Batman.

Sure, perhaps he had heard and sort of seen images of Harvey Dent, the famous distract attorney that had been nicknamed Gotham’s “white knight” on the tiny, crappy TV they were occasionally allowed to watch when they were let out of their cells. But that never did him justice.

Seeing him here? Up close?

What a man. A handsome man, carved by angels and blessed by the devil

Now if only he could get Harv(ey) Dent to notice him.

Since that day he’d tried time and time again under the hope that maybe just maybe… this giant of a man would consider a relationship of sorts.

He tried to impress them with his vast intellect, sitting close to him and going off about any fact or subject he happened to know. He then tried to drill Harvey about his knowledge as a lawyer (which he thought also might just be interesting to know). They were certainly a good listener… and Harvey warmed up to talking about legal jargon and the pains of law school with Eddie eventually.

He was able to talk to Harv about their mutual love of fun patterns and bright colors and agreed that anyone who dissed it just didn’t understand fashion. He also realized soon that Harv loved to talk when he was acknowledged, and Eddie was more than happy to encourage him to and lightly swoon at that voice.

However, they were still only on a ‘good pals’ basis.

Which maybe Eddie could have accepted, except he caught Harvey staring at him at times, smiling slightly whenever Eddie would talk about what interested him. And Harv, he had gotten Harv to laugh a few times.

There was something there, he knew it, but for some reason he couldn’t puzzle out, Dent wasn’t acting on it.

It continued to this day. Harley had suggested to Edward he simply outright tell Harv(ey) Dent he was interested in them. But that wasn’t fun or interesting, and certainly not as romantic as Eddie would like.

So, after years of frustration now, he decided he’d go to the one person who had known Harv(ey) Dent their whole life for advice.

 ============

Bruce’s POV

============

“So, that’s my dilemma.”  Edward finished, pushing up his glasses in a very matter-of-fact way.

Bruce sighed. The only person who had ever rivaled his own stubbornness and… stupidity when it came to others having an romantic interest in them, was in fact Harv(ey) Dent. This would no doubt be difficult.

He wasn’t even sure how he managed to get into a relationship with Clark and Diana, so he wasn’t sure how much of a help he’d be trying to get Harv(ey) and Eddie to pair up.

“I’m decently sure he’s interested in you.” He replied.

“I’m quite sure too, however nothing I do seems to get them to do anything.” Eddie expressed, looking completely exasperated.

“hrrn....” Bruce grumbled thoughtfully. “What have you tried so far?”

“Well… I’ve given them gifts, flowers seemed like a sure-fire method- yet he seemed to somehow take them as a platonic gift.”

Bruce stared at Eddie for a long moment. “Who gives flowers platonically?”

Eddie shrugged.

Bruce sighed. “Dammit Harvey… Harv…” He mumbled under his breath. “I could try talking to them, get some better idea of what’s going on their head, could be Harvey and Harv keep arguing on how they want to respond.” He suggested.

Eddie nodded thoughtfully. “That may be the case, that is a possibility I had not considered… thank you for your assistance batma….. ah… Bruce…” He corrected with a slight grin.

Bruce half smiled back.

Batman was on the case.

====

“So… Harv…. Harvey…” Bruce began wandering over to where they were sitting.

They were seemingly switching between drinking a hot coffee and a Frappuccino.

Harvey had complained more than once that because of their disagreements Harv ended up making them consume way too much sugar. Too much caffeine in this case it seemed.

Their eyes flicked over to him.

“Hi Bruce.”

“What’s up Pretty Boy?”

Bruce sat down across from them. “Eddie seems to be interested in you.”

Never hurt to be blunt with a lawyer.

Harvey snorted. “That’d be nice… he is really cute but…”

“I’m sure Eddie is straight, just our luck, right?”

Bruce had never been so shocked in all his life.

Straight?

Eddie…

Straight?! E d  d I  e.

Str a I ght, Edward Nygma E Nygam s t ra ight

The two concepts being put together caused a complete error in Bruce’s mind that was slowly beginning to fry.

Who could possibly conclude that Edward was s t r aight?

The riddler…. The riddler who for a while greeted Batman like he was lowkey interested in a literal love-hate relationship

Edward

Str a I ght.

“Are you… fucking kidding me?” Bruce ended up stammering before he even realized it. “He’s not… at all!”

Harvey blinked at him a few times in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

Bruce gaped at them. They couldn’t be serious.

“Harvey… I… Harv… he… he’s not exactly subtle about it. In fact he’s very open, very much out and proud, flaming even. I’m sure he’d agree.”

Harvey looked at Bruce through squinted eyes. “Are you sure Bruce?”

“Sure, maybe he’s a bit more flashy than your average guy, but that doesn’t mean gay.” Harv added with a shrug.

“He calls you handsome at least 3 times a day.” Bruce said still staring at Harv(ey) like they were absolutely insane.

“Lots of people do.”

“Have you ever seen him even flirt with any women??” Bruce asked in disbelief.

“No but… well there’s always been more men in Arkham, and when do you even have time for that?”

Bruce was somewhere in-between wanting to laugh at them and slap them.

“He’s given you flowers.”

“Pretty sure he’s just being friendly.”

“Friendly…” Bruce wheezed.

This conversation was taking years off his life at this point. He shook his head and texted Edward.

“Get in here (the living room downstairs) It’s important”

Edward slid in and sat peppily down on the couch with Bruce within a few minutes, causing Harv(ey) to look between Eddie and Bruce in confusion.

“You rang Mr. Wayne~?” Eddie asked with a cheeky grin as he leaned his head against his hand.

“You know what these men just said to me?” Bruce began folding his hands together.

“Bruce nooo…” Harvey pleaded.

“No no, I think he should know.” Bruce insisted.

Eddie raised his eyebrows comically high. “Well don’t keep me waiting, what’s the tea?”

Bruce cleared his throat. “They said… they’re sure you’re straight.”

Eddie stared at Bruce for a minute, eyes widening.

“Me?” He asked completely baffled.

Bruce nodded.

Eddie threw back his head and laughed until his face turned red and he had trouble breathing.

Harv(ey) looked on stiffly, feeling as if they had made a mistake somewhere as the dawning realization slapped them in the face.

 ============

Harv(ey)’s POV

===================

It was bad enough they had put themselves in denial so far they had missed out starting something with the small bean-pole riddle-man much earlier…

But now because they had convinced themselves Eddie was straight and therefore could have no interest in them… Eddie and Bruce were refusing to let them live it down.

And Bruce seemed to have gotten literally everyone in on the joke. Anyone Bruce hadn’t told between his partners and his massive family, Eddie had told.

Harley had begun kissing Ivy in front of them while they both traded off saying “no homo tho” between kisses until Harv(ey) groaned and left the room in a huff, leaving them both laughing maniacally.

Eddie had begun dramatically entering a room with a flourish announcing “Ladies and Gentlemen, Guys, Gals, and Non-binary pals, the straightest man alive has arrived, you may all start the party.”

Even when they first slept together, Edward had started quietly laughing and mumbling about “how straight, and very much not gay at all this occurrence was.”

Bruce hadn’t been able to look at them in weeks without breaking out into a full on belly laugh at his expense, mumbling something along the lines of “The Riddler, st r a I ght, good lord...”

On one hand they were happy Bruce was laughing more but god dammit…

They felt a bit dumb about it to say the least.

“How did we ever think Eddie was straight?” Harvey thought to himself.

“I don’t fucking know. I really… really… don’t.”                                                                                          

Well… maybe giving everyone a little levity while still being able to date a cute red-head that seemed to know the strangest facts about almost everything that they could enjoy listening to him babble about for hours happily…. Was all worth it. Even if they were embarrassed by their comically stupid brand of denile.

[tsc-clave]

Everybody say happy birthday to Magnus Bane!

Our amazing warlock turns 400-and-something, he was born on the 8th of December in the early ‘600s in odiern Jakarta, Indonesia.

He has been portrayed by Godfrey Gao, who unfortunately left us a short time ago, in the movie adaptation of City of Bones...

...and then by Harry Shum Jr in the tv series.

what do you need to know about him?

he was born in the old Dutch East Indies, from a Dutchman and an Indonesian woman. when they discovered that he was a warlock they associated him with the devil and his mother hung herself in the barn

his true father is Asmodeus, one of the most powerful Greater Demons and Princes of Hell

his warlock mark is yellow cat eyes, plus the normal absence of the belly button

monks and Silent Brothers took care of him, in Madrid, and they gave him the name “Magnus Bane”

he stopped aging at around 19, but he started lying about his true age way sooner

he’s 6’2

he loves fashion, he dresses in a very peculiar way and make-up, glitter and sparkly rings are a must

he unwittingly started a mock-cult, the Crimson Hand, whose aim was to help people and warlocks in poor conditions. later on it became a serious Asmodeus adoration cult, where Magnus was known as the “Great Poison” – which is the translation of his name –, but fortunately he fixed that

he is “freewheeling” bisexual, and his known lovers are Imasu (1890, a mundane, he left him after discovering his magic nature), Etta (1938, she left him after years because she realized she wanted a family and she refused immortality), Camille (19/20th century, a vampire, he left her when he discovered she lied to him saying that she was in France while she was in St. Petersburg with another lover) and Alec (2007, a Shadowhunter, they are now a family)

he gifted Camille a chain with a huge ruby as a pendant, it was enchanted to signal her if demons were around. it is now a possession of the Lightwood family

he had a lot of adventures with his warlock friends Ragnor, Catarina – who he saved from being burned alive as a witch – and Tessa, but he has been banned from Peru without proper explanation

over the centuries he tried several hobbies, such as playing charango, collecting stamps and growing bonsais, but he found that throwing unforgettable parties is what truly suits him

during the Prohibition Era he owned a speakeasy, “Mr. Dry’s”

he owned lots of cats, but only two are known: Great Catsby (1990s) and Chairman Meow (2000s). in addition, he was the one bringing Church to the US

he is fluent in different languages, but it is known that he can speak Indonesian, Spanish, Mandarin, Purgatic, Gehennic and Tartarian

when he first saw the Lightwoods, during a battle involving the Circle, he called their little son (Alec) a “doubtless repellent brat” but oh boi was he wrong

in the Shadow Market of Los Angeles people can buy a map of the city with Magnus on it signaling where he caused chaos

when he holds witchlight with Alec it sparks different colors, this comes from his demonic heritage because his father once was an angel

his magic is blue, a color that is exactly like Alec’s eyes

he helped the Clave lots of times, he even owned a seat in the Downworlder section of the Council. in fact, he was the one summoning Raziel to receive the Glorious in order to cut the demonic connection between Jace and Sebastian

he is the High Warlock of Brooklyn

he helped Jocelyn concealing the Sight of her daughter Clary, a spell so powerful that even him couldn’t remove without risks

he is Alec Lightwood’s husband, becoming Magnus Lightwood-Bane

he is the father of a young blue warlock, Max Lightwood-Bane, and a Shadowhunter, Rafael Lightwood-Bane

he was one of the heads of the Shadowhunter-Downworlder Alliance

he gifted Alec with a notebook containing his adventures

he wrote a book named “The Biggest Little Kitten in Brooklyn”, dedicated to Chairman Meow

he likes his coffee with sugar

he once had a pet monkey named Ragnor

( credits to @cassandrajp and to the owners of the gifs )

[darkpurpledawn]

There was a wedding in St. James Park one alarmingly perfect afternoon. The ceremony was festooned with hundreds of white roses, whose perfume fought valiantly with Pachelbel’s Canon in D for room in the spring air.

“Perfect orgy of monogamy,” Crowley drawled. “Lucky our sort don’t do this, eh?”

“I shudder to imagine a demon marrying anyone, poor soul,” Aziraphale replied. “Still, you’ve no cause to be so sour about the humans.”

"��M not sour. You just think I am because you’re so horribly sweet.”

“You have a dreadful habit of making compliments sound insulting, my dear.”

Crowley’s mouth quirked in fanged delight.

“Well you’ve got a lovely habit of making insults sound a bit too complimentary.”

“Shush, they’re getting to the vows, you horrid devil. Oh no, they’ve written them themselves, how perfectly awful.”

“See it’s exactly that ‘you horrid devil’ stuff I’m talking about. Better watch it with that kind of talk, you’ll scandalize the ducks.”

Aziraphale gave Crowley a withering look, as if in severe doubt of his ability to shock such worldly waterfowl.

They listened in lazy sunlit amusement to the amateur vows, florid and unending.

A table of desserts was being erected and filled with frosted intricacies. Aziraphale eyed the sugar-spun blooms on the cake with badly-concealed avarice. Crowley flicked his tongue when the caterers rushed by with flutes of champagne.

“They scrimped on the champagne,” Aziraphale whispered. “We’re not missing anything.”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, and there was something melancholy in his reptilian eyes as he turned back to the wedding party. “Not missing anything at all.”

The world began to end, but before it could finish ending things took a sharp and restorative left turn.

No matter how many times he’d been there, Aziraphale always felt out of place in Crowley’s foyer. He had the vague sense that the expensive furniture was casting him sidelong glances over its upholstered shoulders. Probably it found him awkward and tweedy.

“Angel, what have you got behind your back?” 

“Oh, ah, these are for you.” Aziraphale thrust a single pink rose and a gift-wrapped book into Crowley’s bewildered hands.

“What the—”

“I’ve always prided myself, you know, on collecting books of prophecy.”

The wrapping paper fell away from an old and rather lurid pulp novel, splattered in what was hopefully tea. Its cover bore a picture of a glamorous woman swooning into the arms of a horned devil. A jagged title exclaimed Help! I Married a Demon!

“I, well, I wanted to ask whether this one might prove prophetic as well.”

It was lucky that the rose’s petals were already blushing, because it would have been very flushed indeed as it beheld a rather long and spectacular kiss.

[rizumuj]

When Mahou Shoujo is life, so you write a magical girl story focusing on fiestas & fiascos.

Party Angel St. Sugar, my first attempt at a teen/YA fiction story! Might give fanfic, but hey, I enjoyed writing it, and hopefully, someone will like it!

💖🥂🎉

[sensei-aishitemasu]

2019 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 2017 gift guide, here. For the 2016 gift guide, click here. For the 2015 gift guide, click here. (This is the FIFTH annual gift guide! Time flies!) 

Similar to 2018, I kept every individual item listed under $100! Click on the links to be taken to the websites in order to peruse more yourselves. Every item and brand has been hand selected and curated. Sustainability has been increasingly on my mind, especially when it comes to fashion; as such, several brands on this list are ethically and sustainably sourced. Several also include donations from your purchase being made to philanthropic causes. 

[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 2019 Items

For the Homebody:

eLo ‘Gloria’ Cotton Spray, $30

Shea Shea Bakery Candy Cane Candle, $22

Shea Shea Bakery Coffe Mug Candle, $12

Shea Shea Bakery Bowl of O’s Signature Candle, $20 

Shea Shea Bakery Milk & Cookies Bath Set, $16

Shea Shea Bakery Bath Whip - Confetti Cake, $12

Shea Shea Bakery Honey Bear Bubble Bath, $6

Shea Shea Bakery Milk Mates - Salts + Bubble Bath, $16

Shea Shea Bakery Milk + Honey + Syrup Bubble Bath Set, $22

Shea Shea Bakery Cast Iron Skillet Wax Burner, $22

Shea Shea Bakery Sweet Mini-Melt Cinnamon Bun Wax, $10

Shea Shea Bakery Sweet Mini-Melt Peanut Butter Cups, $10

228 Grant Street Candle Co. Amber + Sandalwood Apothecary Jar, $30 (pictured)

228 Grant Street Candle Co. Oakmoss + Amber Jar, $20

228 Grant Street Candle Co. Botanical Garden Gold Travel Tin, $10 

Kicky Mats ‘Don’t Bother, We’re Broke’ Doormat, $50 (pictured)

Jeffrey Manning “You Are” Art Print, $55

Jeffrey Manning “Mellow Bliss” Art Print, $40

Duchess 365 ‘When I Get Home’ Art Print, $23.99 (pictured)

Tactile Matter ‘Safe Space’ Art Print, $45 (pictured)

Tactile Matter ‘Peaches & Coffee’ Art Print, $45

Galerie.la Small Market Basket, $28

Galerie.la Botanica Medium Candle Harvest, $24

Galerie.la Relaxation Rituals Box, $44.95

Galerie.la Botanica Large Candle Nirvana, $32

Galerie.la Rooted Incense Holder In Gray, $68

Galeria.la Calma Herbal Salt Soaks, $20

‘Hypnotic’ Quilt Set by Justina Blakeney, $100 (pictured)

Brass Bette Planter by Justina Blakeney, $ 75

Ida Mirror by Justina Blakeney, $70

Kahelo Black and Gray Rug by Justina Blakeney, $89

Kashmir.VIII ‘The Party’ Pillow, $50 (pictured)

Cards For All People “Angry Moms” Card Game, $17.99

Cards For All People “Black Card Revoked” Card Game, $17.99 (pictured)

Trading Races Card Game, $24.99 (pictured)

Winsults Card Game, $25 (pictured)

For the Foodie:

Zach & Zoe Wildflower Honey, $12  Zach & Zoe Wildflower Honey - Lavender, $15

Zach & Zoe Wildflower Honey - Raspberry, $15 (pictured)

Zach & Zoe Honey with Ginger Root, $15

Soul Fit Grill Assorted Spices, $55.99 (pictured)

Raw Cells Mind Fudge, $15 (pictured)

Raw Cells Calm Cookie, $8

Raw Cells Brain Brownie, $5

Raw Cells Bliss Bar, $7 (pictured)

Chris Cardi ‘H Street’ Apron, $25.03

Cultured Kombucha ‘Flight Glass’ Set of 4, $35 (pictured)

Cultured Kombucha ‘Cultured’ Tote, $15 (pictured)

Kashmir.VIII ‘Ms. Hill’ Mug, $16

Kashmir.VIII ‘Easin’ Mug, $16

Kashmir.VIII ‘We Did It First’ Mug, $16 (pictured)

Kashmir.VIII ‘The Black Power Mixtape’ Coaster Sets, $35 (pictured)

Botanicals on Blush Kitchen Tea Towels by Justina Blakeney, $28 (pictured)

‘B. Smith Cooks Southern-Style’ by B. Smith, $29.99

For the Beauty Guru:

Oui The People ‘The Single’ Rose Gold Single-Blade Razor, $75 (pictured)

Oui The People ‘Sugarcoat’ Shave Gel-To-Milk, $64 (pictured)

Galerie.la Rose Quartz Facial Roller, $28

Galerie.la Jade Mask, $42

Galerie.la Base Coat Nail Polish Vault, $20

Galerie.la Base Coat Nail Polish The Simon Collective, $20

Galerie.la ‘The Makeup Bag’ (Navy), $59

Galerie.la ‘The Makeup Bag’ (Yellow), $59

Galerie.la Mermaid Milk Superfood Moisturizer, $42

Shea Shea Bakery Buttered Pound Cake Body Mist, $5 (pictured)

Shea Shea Bakery Glazed Donut Body Butter, $25

Shea Shea Bakery Detoxifying Charcoal Cleanser, $15

Shea Shea Bakery Antibacterial Apple Cider Toner, $6

Shea Shea Bakery Almond Milk + Chocolate Peppermint Moisturizer, $6

Shea Shea Bakery Scar Healing Serum, $23

Shea Shea Bakery Gentle Foaming Cleanser, $8

Shea Shea Bakery Chocolate Coffee Bean Scrub, $12

Shea Shea Bakery Rose Garden Soap Bar, $5 (pictured)

Monie Squared Pumpkin Spice Cheesecake Soap, $8

Monie Squared Brown Sugar Fig Goat Milk Soap, $7

Monie Squared Warm Vanilla Sugar Goat Milk Soap, $7

Monie Squared Leave-In Detangling Conditioner in Blood Orange, $16

Camille Rose Naturals Algae Renew Deep Conditioner, $20

Camille Rose Youth Burst Anti-Aging Night Time Elixir, $18 (pictured)

Camille Rose Seedless Skin Pore-Perfecting Facial Exfoliator, $19

Oyin Handmade Burnt Sugar Pomade, $13.99

Oyin Handmade Boing! All-In-One Coil Styler, $14.99

Oyin Handmade No Ash At All Lotion, $9.99

Hunny Bunny Boutique Hunny Lavender Face Bar, $9

Hunny Bunny Boutique Rose Clay Facial Mask, $8

Bejia Flor Naturals Acai Mango Lotion, $22

Vee + Co. Apothecary ‘Seven’ Aromatherapy Roller, $18

Vee + Co. Apothecary ‘Mellow’ Aromatherapy Roller, $18

Vee + Co. Apothecary ‘Faith’ Aromatherapy Roller, $18

Vee + Co. Apothecary ‘Tisane’ Body + Bath Oil, $25

Jade & Fox Co. Liquid Gold Facial Cleanser, $15 (pictured)

Jade & Fox Co. Neptune Hyaluronic Face Mist, $15

Jade & Fox Co. Flower Power Toner, $18 (pictured)

Jade & Fox Co. Fineapple Face Mask, $22

Jade & Fox Co. Maui Wowie Serum, $17 (pictured)

Jade & Fox Co. Angel Eyes Under Eye Cream, $24

Jade & Fox Co. Crushed Velvet Butter, $26

Jade & Fox Co. Honeysuckle Spray, $14

Jade & Fox Co. Lust Oil, $15

Jade & Fox Co. Crush Body Oil, $17

Jade & Fox Co. Vixen Oil, $15

Jade & Fox Co. ‘Show Girl’ Body Oil, $17

Jade & Fox Co. Siren Highlighter, $18 (pictured)

Makeup/Beauty/Hair Brands:

Plain Jane Beauty (pictured)

Mented Cosmetics (pictured) 

Beauty Bakerie 

Bovanti Cosmetics 

Colour U Cosmetics

Hue Noir 

Gold Label Cosmetics 

Lamik Beauty

Lip Addyct 

Magnolia Makeup 

Lotus Moon Skincare

The Lip Bar (pictured)

Ginger + Liz Nail Polish

Foxie Cosmetics

Blac Minerals Cosmetics (pictured)

Danessa Lyrics Beauty

Lena Lashes

AJ Crimson Beauty

KSquared Nail Paint

Kinky Curly Yaki

Heat Free Hair Movement

Big Chop Hair

Princess Hair Shop

Haute Kinky Hair

Private Stock Kair

Catface Hair

Mischo Beauty (pictured)

Brown Butter Beauty (pictured)

Her Muse Studio

Elo Lipcare (pictured)

Glam Goth Beauty (pictured)

For The Fashion Conscious:

Galerie.la Abbot Corduroy Knit Robe Berry, $98

Galerie.la Denim Crop Bra, $35

Galerie.la Golden Organic Cotton Crop Bra, $35 (pictured)

Galerie.la Recycled Cotton Baby Tee Black, $39

Galerie.la Alicia Crossbody Brown Bag, $85 (pictured)

Galerie.la Stacking Rings Brass, $25 (pictured)

Galerie.la Diamond Stacking Ring, $25

Galerie.la Petite Arch Earrings Brass, $34

Galerie.la Thelma Top Mauve, $48

Galerie.la Silver Hashtag Earrings, $58

Galerie.la Cascade Dress Charcoal, $59

Galerie.la Petra Jumpsuit Charcoal, $65 (pictured)

Galerie.la Sabbath Cocoon Tunic, $98

Galerie.la Flap Wallet Mustard, $79

Galerie.la Zipper Wallet Blush, $69

Glam Goth ‘Goon’ Beanie (red), $25

Glam Goth ‘Goon’ Beanie (black), $25

Glam Goth ‘Goth’ Cap, $30 (pictured)

Glam Goth ‘The Young Angel’ T-Shirt, $20

Instant Vintage - Azul by Giancarlo Bolero, $55

Instant Vintage - Merlot Veiled Hat, $30

Instant Vintage - Turquoise Velvet Bow with Headband, $45

Instant Vintage - Sweetheart Floral Dress, $48 (pictured)

Sir and Madame Striped Wool Split Back Shirt, $75

Sir and Madame Logo T-Shirt, $40

Sir and Madame 'Madame’ Cropped Tank, $28

Sir and Madame 70′s Script T-Shirt, $45

Sir and Madame “A Better Tomorrow” T-Shirt, $40

Sir and Madame Red Wing Engineer Boot, $75

Sir and Madame Jungle Camo Woven Shirt, $45

A Life Well Dressed ‘Artsy’ Statement Cap, $16 (pictured)

A Life Well Dressed ‘Create’ Statement T-Shirt, $20

Gregory Sylvia ‘Farrah’ Watch, $95

Gregory Sylvia ‘Chandler’ Watch, $78 (pictured)

Gregory Sylvia ‘Rosen’ Watch, $105 (slightly over budget but a beautiful watch!)

Gregory Sylvia ‘Crimson Crave’ Wallet, $69

Tree Fairfax Lois Belt, $40

Tree Fairfax Distressed Wrap Clutch/Wallet, $54

Chris Cardi ‘H St. Nostalgia’ Tee, $30.03

Chris Cardi ‘Bastards’ Tee, $30.03

Sole Rebels ‘The Surge’ Shoe, $90

Sole Rebels ‘The Exodus Ahhh’ Shoe, $100

Sole Rebels ‘The StepUP’ Shoe, $95

Sole Rebels ‘The Exodus RIFF’ Shoe, $100 (pictured)

Sole Rebels ‘TooTOOS Holees’ Shoe, $85

Enbois ‘Jafari’ Watch (Zebra), $85

For the Bookworm:

‘The Water Dancer’ by Ta-Nehisi Coates, $28 (pictured)

‘Deathless Divide by Justina Ireland, $18.99 (pictured)

‘Black Talk: Words and Phrases from the Hood to the Amen Corner’ by Geneva Smitherman, $6.38 (pictured)

‘Talkin and Testifyin: The Language of Black America’ by Geneva Smitherman, $7.77 (pictured)

‘White Negroes: When Cornrows Were in Vogue ... and Other Thoughts on Cultural Appropriation’ by Lauren Michele Jackson, $23.49

‘Mules and Men’ by Zora Neale Hurston, $15.99 (pictured)

‘The Black Book’ edited by Toni Morrison, $35

‘Bloodchild and Other Stories’ by Octavia Butler, $14

‘Rebel’ by Beverly Jenkins, $7.99

‘B. Smith: Rituals & Celebrations’ by B. Smith, $35 (pictured)

Rayo & Honey ‘Eat Words, Drink Stars’ Pin, $12 (pictured)

Rayo & Honey ‘Read More, Writer Better’ Banner, $50 (pictured)

Rayo & Honey ‘Books Change Your Mind’ Banner, $55

Rayo & Honey ‘Hundreds of Books Under My Skin’ Bookmark, $8 (pictured)

For the Kids:

Yinibini Baby ‘Trunk of Hearts’ Elephant One-Piece, $29.50

Yinibini Baby ‘My Neighborhood in DC’ Tee, $26.00 (pictured)

Jade & Fox Co. Fantasy Body Lotion for Babies, $16

Duchess365 Framed Art Print [Ladybug], $57.99

Duchess365 Throw Pillow [Lollipop], $29.99 (pictured)

Duchess365 Framed Art Pillow, $47.99 (pictured)

Herbaceutikals Talc Free Baby Organic Baby Powder, $14.25 (pictured)

‘Party, A Mystery’ by Jamaica Kincaid, $17.95 (pictured)

‘The Last Last-Day-of-Summer’ by Lamar Giles, $8.49

‘Puppy Truck’ by Brian Pinkney, $11.38 (pictured)

‘Libba: The Magnificent Musical Life of Elizabeth Cotten)’ by Laura Veirs, $17.99

‘Little Melba and Her Big Trombone’ by Katheryn Russell-Brown, $18.95 (pictured)

Vee + Co. Apothecary ‘Mamatoto’ Aromatherapy Roller, $12

KaAn’s Designs ‘Living The Dream’ Denim Jacket, $40 (pictured)

Sir & Madame ‘Sir’ Kids Pullover, $55

Amina Abdul Jillil Kids Velvet Sneaker, $89 (pictured)

For the Masculine:

Gregory Sylvia ‘Durham’ Watch, $78 (pictured)

Gregory Sylvia ‘Grayson’ Watch, $95

Gregory Sylvia ‘Fullerton’ Watch, $95.00

A Life Well Dressed ‘Create’ Sweater, $34

A Life Well Dressed ‘District of Champions’ Sweater, $48

Sir & Madame Scratch Goods Beard Oil, $24 (pictured)

Sir & Madame ‘Sir’ Shirt (Blue), $40 (pictured)

Sir & Madame ‘Sir Shirt (Orange), $40

Sir & Madame Classic Logo Beanie (Gray), $40

Sir & Madame Classic Logo Beanie (Orange), $40 (pictured)

Sir & Madame ‘Sir’ Long Sleeve Black Shirt, $55

Sir & Madame ‘Sir’ Lapel Pin, $10

Instant Vintage - Pink and Blue Plaid Pants, $50 (pictured)

Instant Vintage - Camel Leather Blazer, $90

Instant Vintage - Tan Trench Coat, $60

Enbois ‘The Weekend’ Bag, $60 (pictured)

Enbois ‘Cocoa Collection’ Bracelets, $50 (pictured)

Enbois ‘Garvey’ Watch (Black), $70 (pictured)

Vee + Co. Beard Mist, $12

Vee + Co. Beard Oil, $20

Vee + Co. Beard Wash Shampoo + Conditioner, $18

Mr. Blackmans Bergamot & Spice Beard Balm, $11.99

Scotch Porter Nourish & Repair Hair Conditioner, $24.99

Scotch Porter Hydrating Hair Wash, $24.99

Scotch Porter Charcoal & Licorice Moisture Defend Face Lotion, $19.99

Levi Fisher Balm Diggity Softening Beard Butter, $12.99

Levi Fisher Smooth Operator Detangling & Conditioning Beard Serum, $9.99

Levi Fisher Go Tea Herbal Grooming Spray for Short Hair and Beards, $9.99

Sole Rebels ‘exodus Traveller ‘Shoes, $100

Sole Rebels ‘stepUP Ed. 2′ Shoes, $95 (pictured)

Sole Rebels ‘the SURGE any’ Shoes, $90

For The Technologically Savvy:

Enbois Case iPhone 7/7plus/8/8plus/iPhone X/iPhone XS/iPhone XR, $12 (pictured)

Enbois Walnut Case iPhone 6/7/8, $8

Enbois Rosewood Case iPhone 6/7/8, $8

Enbois Power Bank, $15 (pictured)

Enbois Grip Socket, $3 (pictured)

Embrii Shop Iridescent Macbook Case, $49

Embrii Shop Matte Gold Messenger Laptop Sleeve, $39

Embrii Shop Champagne Gold Glitter Macbook Case, $49

Embrii Shop Emerald Tartan MacBook Case, $49

Chic Geeks Black Faux Crocodile MacBook Case, $78

Chic Geeks Emerald Faux Crocodile MacBook Case, $78

Chic Geeks Grey Marble MacBook Case, $68 (pictured)

Chic Geeks Rose Gold Keyboard Cover, $12 (pictured)

Chic Geeks Space Gray Ombre Keyboard Cover, $12

Chic Geeks Emerald Faux Crocodile iPad Case, $78 (pictured)

Chic Geeks Unicorn Sparkle iPad Case, $68 (pictured)

Chic Geeks Emerald Glitter MacBook Case, $58

Chic Geeks Black Marble MacBook Case, $68

Chic Geeks Gray Marble iPad Case, $58

Puku G8 Earphones, $29 (pictured)

Khristian A. Howell Fig Life Sleek and Chic Phone Case, $39.99 (pictured)

Khristian A. Howell Deuces Sleek and Chic Phone Case, $39.99

Khristian A. Howell Buffalo Plaid Sleek and Chic Phone Case, $39.99

Cards, Stationery and Gift Wrap:

Greentop Gifts Clarence Claus Candy Canes & Trees Gift Wrap, $7.50 (pictured)

Greentop Gifts Clarence Claus ‘HOHOHO’ Gift Wrap, $7.50 (pictured)

Greentop Gifts Clarence Claus Close Up Gift Wrap, $7.50 

Greentop Gifts Clarence Claus Gift Bag, $4.50

Sweet Potato Paper Red Plaid Gift Wrap, $9.95

Sweet Potato Paper Yellow Triangles Gift Wrap, $9.95

Sweet Potato Paper ‘Can Swim’ Gift Wrap, $9.95 (pictured)

Sweet Potato Paper ‘No Worries’ Notecards, $10.50

Sweet Potato Paper ‘Sunny Thanks’ Thank You Cards, $1.25 per card 

Sweet Potato Paper ‘Audio Thanks’ Thank You Cards, $1.25 per card (pictured)

Sweet Potato Paper Blotting Paper, $1.25 per sheet 

The DynaSmiles Stationery & Gifts Assorted Christmas Cards Bundle, $28

The DynaSmiles "Fro La La" 4x6 Sticker Sheet, $3.50 (pictured)

The DynaSmiles "Santa's Beard" Christmas Collectible Mug, $20 (pictured)

Addie Rawr ‘A Room Full of Dolls’ Adult Coloring Book, $15

Addie Rawr Fall Dolls Stickers (Die Cut & Sticker Sheets), $6.50

Midnight Reflections Melanin Prima Ballerina Ceramic Ornaments, $15.99 (pictured)

Midnight Reflections Kwanzaa Wrapping Paper Kit, $15.99

Midnight Reflections Black Santa Gift Bag Kit, $18.99

Midnight Reflections Black Angel Wrapping Paper Kit, $8.99 (pictured)

Midnight Reflections Black Santa with Snow Flakes Wrapping Paper Kit, $8.99 

Khristian A. Howell Rosey Holiday Gift Wrap, $8.99

Khristian A. Howell Rosy Twinkle Gift Wrap, $8.99

Khristian A. Howell Ansley Park Gift Wrap, $8.99

Kashmir.VIII ‘Maya’ Notebook, $11 (pictured)

Kashmir.VIII ‘The Marathon Continues’ Sticker, $9-$20

[thesbianxwaves]

Teal Pumpkin Café Menu Prices

Beverages

Water ...... free

Juices { apple, orange, cranberry, pomegranate, black currant, lemonade } ...... $1.00

Oatmilk { plain, vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, hunny } ...... $1.25

Non-Specialty Coffees/Teas ...... $1.00 { S }; $2.00 { L }

Specialty Coffees/Teas { lattes } ...... $2.50 { S }; $3.50 { L }

Smoothies ...... $3.00

Breakfast Items { available 7am-2:30pm )

Fresh Fruit { apples, bananas, oranges, plums, peaches } ...... $0.50

Yogurt Parfaits ...... $2.50

Avocado Toast ...... $2.75

Vegan Quiche ...... $3.50

Breakfast Sandwiches { beyond sausage, carrot bacon } ...... $3.50; $4.00 { loaded }

Pancakes ...... $4.00 { two }; $5.50 { three }

Pancake Toppings { chocolate chips, strawberries, banana coins, whipped cream } ...... $0.50

Lunch Items { available 11am-2:30pm }

Soup { broccoli cheeze, tomato, veggie noodle, corn chowder, wild rice, minestrone, beyond chili }...... $1.75 { S }; $2.50 { L }

Spanakopita ...... $2.50

Mac & Cheeze { plain, buffalo } ...... $2.50 { S }; $3.25 { L }

Grilled Cheeze { cheddar, gouda, pepperjack } ...... $3.50

Paninis { build your own }...... $4.00

Rice Bowls { build your own }...... $4.50

Pastries { GF pastries add $0.50 to prices <$2.50 and $1.00 to prices >$2.50 }

Macarons, Madeleines ...... $1.00

Chocolate Covered Pretzels, Pastry Twists ...... $1.00

Candy Cookies, Black & White Cookies, Alien Cookies, Pumpkin Cookies, Party Rings, Thin Mints, Russian Tea Cakes ...... $1.00

Palmiers, Kolaczki, Biscotti, Linzer Tarts, Jaffa Cakes, Hedgehog Cookies ...... $1.25

Croissants, Pain au Chocolat, Petit Fours, Canneles, Financers, Sunflower Butter Cups ...... $1.50

Cosmic Brownies, Swirled Brownies, Oatmeal Cream Pies, Banana Bread, Eclairs, Profiteroles, Muffins ...... $1.75

Gallettes, Danishes, Cupcakes, Tarts, Scones ..... $2.00

Chia Pudding Cups ...... $2.25

Mille-Feuille, Mini Trifles, Angel Cakes, Battenberg Cakes ..... $2.50

Mini Frasier Cakes ...... $3.50

St. Honore ...... $4.00

Mini Pithivier ...... $4.50

Fresh Breads ...... $3.00-$5.00 { per loaf }

Custom Cakes ...... $10.00+

Bulk Items { prices TBD }

All Purpose Flour

Gluten-Free Flour

Cane Sugar

Chocolate Chips

Chocolate Coated Candies

Rainbow Sprinkles

Sunflower Seeds

Dried Chickpeas

For the Dogs

Biscuits ...... $1.00 { one free for working service dogs }

Whipped Cream Cup ...... $1.25

[s4g2world]

SEO: Agency, In-House Or Freelance - What Is Ideal For My Business?

With every passing day, digital marketing is becoming more important as ever. Big and small start-ups are advancing for digital marketing platforms to get their high business rankings and more ROI.

Search engine optimisation is one of the most crucial pillars of online marketing that supports the other channels including email marketing, PPC and more. Many businesses favour SEO over email marketing or PPC, because SEO is fruitful in the long run and offer a better ROI as compared to email marketing, PPC or any other strategies.

SEO is a long-term investment; it's high time that your business should seriously consider to invest in SEO. There are many ways through which you can get your SEO done: outsource your SEO, hire an in-house SEO agency or hire SEO freelancers.

Hiring An In-House SEO Team

SEO is not a simple thing, it's complex and difficult regarding getting rankings, leads and traffic you need to have a dedicated in-house SEO team who are right in their respective fields. Having an in-house squad have a lot of benefits such as the team is always around to look into the website issues, so there will be no significant problem.

Also, search engine and technical issues can be caught the ride in the start before it gets any worst. Having an in-house team can help you in the upcoming ventures that company might be planning to have to increase their business like pilot business model or sister website.

Outsource To An SEO Agency

When businesses don't have enough budget to have an in-house SEO team the ideal choice left for them is to outsource their SEO and marketing needs to a third party and SEO agencies that are sound. An SEO agency comprises of link builders, content producers and project managers hired in their team, and they work with different clients from all around the globe.

Outsourcing your SEO work to an SEO agency is right in a way as professionals from that field will handle your job. The way things work in an SEO agency is different from the in-house team as people tend to leave, so the people who worked for you before are not sure to be working there anymore.

Hiring A Freelance SEO

A freelance SEO person is also a good option, but they don't work for an agency neither they work in-house. They not only take on your SEO project but they also keep every aspect of it in mind and are highly responsible for bringing more leads and traffic to the business.

Usually, people who don't like to work with agencies or have in-house teams work with freelance SEO as they don't take multiple projects and can listen to you more than the SEO agencies. A freelance SEO person is less expensive than an SEO agency.

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[unexpectedreylo]

Closing Arguments For Reylo

After it seems like we’ve spent a year anticipating this movie--from the film wrap in February to the teaser trailer in April to the Vanity Fair stuff in June to the D23 trailer at the end of August to the Road To TROS stuff to this final trailer and the onslaught of press for the film--we’re finally in the home stretch.  

Who will live?  Who will die?  Will Reylo ride off into the sunset, a HEA at last for a Star Wars couple, will it end in tragedy or worse yet, will it end in a vague incoherent muddle?  After all, no fairy tale ends with “they lived ambiguously ever after.”

I think we’re all going to be nervous sitting in the theater come Dec. 18-20 because whether we believe “leaks” or not, we’re just not going to know for sure until we see the film.  I’m almost as nervous about their misusing/under-using Adam in this film as I am about the filmmakers blowing Reylo.

Yet of all of the sequel films, I’m the most confident about this one going in.  This is the last film in this story and it’s not going to end with the message that the Skywalker family was somehow a mistake or some curse upon the galaxy that needed to be eliminated, while the few positive aspects about the Skywalkers are handed off to Rey because she’s such a nice girl.  It’s not going to end like Romeo and Juliet.  It’s not going to end without redemption for Kylo Ren/Ben Solo.  The final chapter in the series is not only going to redeem him but everyone else who screwed up before him.  It’s going to end this conflict and a Jedi Order 2.0 is going to arise.  There will be a big party at the end.  It will give you cavities and possibly blood sugar spikes.  

As far as I’m concerned, Rey and Ben being together--in LOVE--is an integral part of that happy ending.  Cinderella gets her prince.  Beauty finds true love with the man who had been the Beast.  Anastasia marries Christian Grey and has a baby.  There’s just no such thing as a heroine who cheerfully ends up without her lover and in spite of what a lot of people think, Star Wars spends far more time utilizing traditional storytelling tropes (though in new ways) than subverting them.  Like I wrote in my piece about gothic romances, the woman gets the man, the manor, and the money.  Rey walks into TROS already with the metaphorical substitutes for the manor (the Falcon) and the money (the objects associated with the Skywalker family).  She’s already in with her potential mother-in-law.  All she needs is for Ben to show up to the metaphorical/literal wedding.

And everything is pointing toward that happening.  I’m not saying TROS will end with Ben and Rey in a wedding or Rey waddling about preggers.  Maybe it will end that way, maybe it won’t.  But it will at minimum pair them together a la Han and Leia at the end of ROTJ.  

First, let’s take on the only legitimate, in-universe obstacles to Rey and Ben being in a romantic relationship.  No, I don’t mean that they could be related.  What I do mean is that there are two things that would prohibit romance:  one is obvious...no Bendemption.  But I’m certain it is going to happen.  The other is the old school Jedi prohibition against forming attachments, including romantic relationships.  Many fans expect this deeply unpopular rule to be cast aside.  But in the name of fairness, it bears pointing out that so far, this deeply unpopular rule hasn’t been cast aside in the movies.  Sure there was a bit in the TLJ novel implying Luke wasn’t fond of this deeply unpopular rule but on the other hand, he lived it.  Generalissima Leia did lots of other things but never became a Jedi herself.  Maybe she was too busy.  Or maybe she’d rather bonk Han to her heart’s content than become a space nun.  There’s been some recent news that Leia was originally set to finally take up the Jedi mantle in the last ST film, something that obviously changed after Carrie’s passing in 2016.  Note that this would have been after Leia had become a widow.  Several months ago I’d listened to a podcast containing an interview with former Lucasfilm employee J.W. Rinzler.  He revealed that while the expanded universe was allowed to go nuts with Jedi romances and marriages, Lucas kept grumbling that “Jedi aren’t supposed to marry!”  He disliked Mara Jade partially for this reason.

Of every argument against Reylo happening that is the one that no one seems to take seriously yet it’s far more likely to be an issue than a sudden revelation of Rey Skywalker-Solo.  The question is were Chris Terrio and J.J. Abrams willing to say, “Hey George, your rule sucks so we’re gonna throw it out” to Lucas’s eternal annoyance?  Or, is the coupling of Rey and Ben supposed to have happened all along, even in Lucas’s drafts?  Are Rey and Ben a glaring exception to the rule?

My argument is that they are going to be an exception.  Reylo is not just about hot people hooking up, it’s about mystical forces coming together in a union that will bring the peace and stability that has evaded the galaxy since the Clone Wars.  In other words, it’s a divine marriage.  Ben and Rey are not ordinary Force users.  They are extraordinary among the extraordinary.  We already know Ben’s tremendous raw power comes from being literally the great-grandson of the Force itself.  Rey I’m sure is something very similar, a demigoddess of sorts.  Ben and Rey will demonstrate one can love deeply without it corrupting into selfishness, possessiveness, obsession, and everything else that led Anakin into believing killing his comrades to save Padmé was a really good idea.

Okay, let’s look at some hard evidence.

What’s the one word that keeps coming up over and over again with Rey and Kylo/Ben?

Intimacy.

Or some variation thereof:

“At the premiere I heard somebody in the balcony say, “Yesssss!” You can see Adam was training hardcore throughout the whole process. It’s fun but it also has a specific purpose, which is the increasing feeling of uncomfortable intimacy. That was sticking with the theme of trying to give Rey the hardest thing you could possibly give her, which would be unavoidable intimate conversation with this person that she wants to just hate. This was just one more way of upping that ante.”--Rian Johnson, Los Angeles Times, December 18, 2017

“It’s all about those Force connection scenes. The keyword being intimacy. And the idea that this was a way to just, why not step that up?(...)And so it was just another way of kind of disrobing Kylo literally and figuratively a little bit more, and pushing that sense of these conversations becoming increasingly more intimate.”--Rian Johnson, People magazine Dec. 23, 2017

“They just had this horrific fight, but Rian wanted this incredible intimacy and this cascading, twinkling waterfall of sparks from the fight before.”--Ben Morris, ILM Visual Effects Supervisor, Collider Dec. 25, 2017

“Even to the point where Adam flew to Ireland just to be off camera for Daisy’s stuff, which was essential because they’re such intimate conversations.”--Rian Johnson, People magazine Jan. 6, 2018

“That came about first and foremost from wanting a sense of intimacy”--Rian Johnson, Force of Sound Documentary Feb. 20, 2018

“And have it, you’re in their heads with just that intimacy.”--Matthew Wood, Supervising Sound Editor, Skywalker Sound Feb. 20, 2018

“Having a big sound there just didn’t have the intimacy that the scene demanded. It can be so hard to get the balance right to where the audience is feeling the same thing as the characters.”--Michael Semanic, Re-recording mixer Skywalker Sound, Postperspective Feb. 21, 2018

“But we fall back on romance because it's the best analogue we have. Rey and Kylo's relationship is more intimate than that. They've literally been in each other's minds. Rey's seen his deepest fears; he's seen the past she's buried. None of us have had that experience.”

“My point is romance may not be the endpoint of that. (Though it may be.) The analogue may be misleading, because it's an analogue. Their connection is deeper and stranger and far more complicated. I think TFA/TLJ covers those complications wonderfully, with Ep IX promising more.”--Jason Fry on Twitter Nov. 26, 2018

“At times it’s more intimate, sometimes less intimate.”--Adam Driver, Entertainment Weekly, December 2019

Relationships that are intimate aren’t necessarily romantic or sexual in nature but in modern parlance, it’s often used as a euphemism for a romantic or sexual relationship, or for sex itself i.e. “Tyler and Kaitlyn weren’t intimate until they got married.”  Because of that, it would be hella weird if they described a familial or friendly relationship in this way.  If I didn’t want my audience to believe there’s anything that could possibly be sexual happening between my characters--especially between an eligible attractive man and an eligible attractive woman--I would avoid using the term “intimate.”

If that doesn’t sell it for you, consider these statements:

“It’s the closest thing we’ll ever get to a sex scene in Star Wars”--Rian Johnson re the hand touch in TLJ.  (Who the hell says that about cousins?  Or just friends?)

“it is certainly true there is a romantic drama...”--Rian Johnson, some Japanese interview from 2017.   (By the way this was misquoted into stating there was no romance in TLJ at all.)

“I (Rian) disagreed with John (Williams) twice regarding the score. For example, there's a scene where Kylo Ren and Rey touch hands, before they are interrupted by Luke Skywalker. When John wrote the score (for this scene), he was very protective of Rey's character, exactly as is Luke. Kylo ('s presence) was menacing, musically speaking. It's a valid point of view, but I didn't think of the scene like that. I wanted it to stay on Rey's POV: I wanted that we could believe in this romance.”--Rian Johnson, Classica magazine April 25, 2019 (Note: this is an interview from English to French then translated here and here back to English but the word “romance” is the same in both languages.)

The above statements and various others we’ve all seen over the years are helpful to explain what we’ve seen in the past two films:  they’re building toward something.

On one level, the filmmakers are building toward another alliance between our space children, like what they had in TLJ.  It’s obvious that they will need to team up to defeat Palpatine because who else could?  It’s also obvious that they are key to the Force being in balance.  There has been interesting speculation on Twitter about how those forces will come together and the symbolism of a marriage by uniting mystical objects.

But being Force buddies in a tag team match against Palpatine isn’t quite high enough stakes.  Nor is “might makes right” the message of Star Wars.  These two have to be willing to fight for each other, to the death if necessary.  They have to have something to live for as well.  They have to have the secret sauce that Darth Sidious doesn’t have.  And what I’m talking about is love.  Not just the compassionate love of agape (that’s what Anakin was talking about in AOTC but he meant it differently of course) or the friendship love of philia but also the powerful, creative love of eros.  It’s basically what was happening in the throne room scene in TLJ.  They were fighting for each other and the future they saw when they touched hands.  Come on, nobody is going to do any of that just to find an apprentice or to convince someone to join an insurrection you barely spent any time with yourself.

A divine marriage between the two most powerful Force users will end the war and herald in a new age.   Either they are a new incarnation of the Prime Jedi or they will become the mother and father to this incarnation.

Plus they will kiss and get in a lot of nookie.  The end.

Credits:  r/starwarsspeculation, @reylo-evidence-collection, r/starwarscantina, @reylo5 (Instagram),

[5typesoftrash]

My True Love Gabe to Me

My fic for the Sabriel Secret Santa by @sabrielevents. I’m so glad I got to take part in this event, it was really fun. My giftee was @mightywolves23 so I wrote her this... whatever this is. 

Pairings: Sabriel/Destiel Rating: Teen Additional Warnings: Mutual Pining, Sam and Gabriel are idiots, so much Christmas fluff, Destiel are fucking gross, vulgarity, swearing, stuff like that. Word Count: 4,599

December 1st

Dean is- Dean is jumping on his bed. Dean is jumping on Sam’s bed, holding his phone, which is connected to a Bluetooth speaker, blasting All I Want for Christmas at maximum volume. And grinning. Like a maniac. And singing along. Like a dork.

How could Sam possibly be related to this idiot?

He grabs one of his pillows and smacks his brother in the chest with it before burrowing underneath the other one and hiding from the world. Dean resurfaces quickly, pauses his song (blessedly), and grabs Sam’s arm. “Sammy!” he’s shouting, and Sam has never wanted anything more than he wants to be dead right now. “Sammy, come on, I have to make you a Happy December breakfast.”

“Dean, there’s literally no reason for you to make a ‘Happy December breakfast’. You just want an excuse to cook.”

Dean nods excitedly. “Hell yeah I do! Now come on, get your overgrown Goliath ass downstairs so that I can make you food.”

Sam groans but does as he’s told, pushing himself out of bed as soon as Dean leaves the room (he sleeps naked, no way is Dean getting the covers off of him while he’s still in Sam’s bedroom) and forcing himself to forgo comfortable clothing – he does stare longingly at his pajama pants for a minute, though – in favor of his usual combination of tank top under t-shirt under flannel under jacket. And he makes his way downstairs.

“Heya there, Samsquatch,” Gabriel calls cheerfully from where he’s sitting with his feet up on the dining table, eating chocolate pie a la mode with whipped cream. (How he can stomach that for breakfast still mystifies Sam) “Sleep well, princess?”

Sam makes a show of pulling his middle finger out of his ‘bra strap’ and applying liberal amounts of ‘lipstick’ to his lips with it. Gabriel cracks up, and Sam hides his smile. He does like making the Trickster laugh.

He makes his way through the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bacon from where they’re cooling on the counter and receiving a punch in the shoulder in return as he goes. He holds it between his teeth as he opens the fridge with one hand and grabs a glass from the cupboard next to it with the other. He pours himself some orange juice and then tears into the meat with his teeth.

He settles down at his usual place beside the archangel who’s somehow managed to become a permanent fixture in their lives at the bunker and strikes up an idle conversation with him about a book he read about Grace the previous day. Cas, sitting across from Gabriel, has quite a few interesting insights, and it’s only a few minutes before Dean’s carrying plates of waffles and bacon into the kitchen, and Sam smiles gratefully up at his brother before he digs in.

Once the table’s been cleared, Dean announces, “I thought we’d get a tree today.”

“Doin’ it early this year?” Sam teases, grinning at his brother. Every year that they’d been on their own, when they actually had a place to decorate, Dean was so lazy they’d always ended up getting their tree a week or so before Christmas. December first was new, to say the least.

“Shut up, bitch,” Dean shoots back without heat. Cas looks ready to step in if they really go at it, but Sam just laughs.

“Jerk,” he mutters, then adds, “Christmas tree shopping sounds awesome. If we have time, we can even go get gifts for each other, too.”

“We won’t have time,” Dean tells him wisely.

(He’s right, of course. They do not have time.)

#~+~#

They don’t leave for the farm until just after 1, because someone (coughGabrielcough) took about two hours to be composed enough to go. Which is ridiculous, because Gabriel can just snap himself up some clothes whenever he wants, he doesn’t have to take ten years to get ready and make everyone else wait for him.

Ah, well. Dean made a remark about Gabriel acting like a girl and Sam got to go on one of his feminist rants until Dean scoffed and walked away from him, so it was okay.

When they finally arrive, they hook themselves up with the complimentary hot chocolate that they always serve at those places, jump into one of those cart things, and drive off to the far reaches of the many acres of land reserved just for Christmas trees.

“So how tall we wanna go?” Dean asks as they climb out, Sam with the axe slung over his shoulder.

“I’m thinkin’ tall,” Sam suggests with a smirk in Gabriel’s direction. “I’m thinkin’ taller’n me tall.” And Gabriel- Gabriel honest-to-Chuck flushes, ever so slightly, under the heat of Sam’s gaze. Sam stares at him in amazement, because that can be summed up with one phrase. “Holy shit,” he whispers to himself before turning to his brother.

“I mean, we have the space for it, don’t we? Only problem would be getting it back to the bunker, although we do have angels who can do that for us.”

Gabriel, having regained his composure, smiles sweetly at them.

#~+~#

It takes Sam and Dean another half an hour to pick a tree, chop it down, get the angels to fly it back to the bunker, pay, grab another round of hot chocolate, and get in the car, and then the drive back home is forty-five minutes. Because of all of that, they don’t make it back to the bunker until 3:15 or so, by which time Castiel and Gabriel have already erected the tree in the spot they’d previously picked out and are now color-coding the month of December in their Biblical calendar (a joke gift from Dean that went right over Cas’ head, although he and Gabe got quite the shared-laughter bonding moment out of the way Cas so clearly didn’t understand it) with the various activities they’re planning to do on various days. They’re all spread out so as to be flexible in case they get hunts that go a little longer than expected.

Sam and Dean’s angels are nice like that.

(Oh, fuck. Cas has always been Dean’s, that much was clear from day 1, but the scary part is that Sam has started thinking of Gabriel as being his. That’s not good for him or his mental health, and it spells DANGER in big block letters across his life. He tries to heed the warnings, he really does, but… Gabriel’s perpetual sugar high and his… mostly… positive energy and his infectious sugary-sweet smile just get to him, warm up parts of him he’d forgotten existed, and eventually he is forced to realize that he was gone long before he ever had a chance to identify it. There’s no going back now.)

It’s mid-afternoon and none of them feels like doing anything, so they leave the eight-foot-tall tree alone, undecorated as it is, and collapse onto the two couches in the den. Unsurprisingly, Dean gets a faceful of black hair as an extremely cuddly Castiel presses himself against Dean’s side. Slightly more surprisingly, Sam gets a golden archangel’s head in his lap, and even more surprising is the way that Sam starts to card his fingers through Gabriel’s hair. However, what takes the cake is how natural that feels.

Sam hates this feeling.

Dean selects a Christmas movie at random – they end up watching The Holiday – and they all relax and allow themselves to enjoy the peace and serenity and Jack Black singing badly on screen.

Sam hates that feeling, but he loves this one. This is family and warmth and home, this is love and peace and happiness, and this is security like he’s never known. They’re a bit of a fucked-up family, but they’re a family nonetheless, and Sam wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He falls asleep on the couch.

--

December 5th

Sam pays his brother back in kind, and he justifies it by saying that Dean asked for this.

Dean wakes up to a pie in the face, and Sam knows he won’t stop bitching about a waste of perfectly good pie for several days. He could care less.

He lets Dean eat cherry pie for breakfast, and Gabe eats his chocolate pie for breakfast, and Sam has a donut because he kind of doesn’t care at this point, and Castiel doesn’t eat anything. Which disappoints his boyfriend greatly, but he keeps pointing out that I do not need to eat, Dean.

And then at 10, Sam finds Dean’s Bluetooth speaker, connects it to his phone, and queues up a three-hour playlist of Christmas music on Spotify. “Hey, get your lazy asses in here, we got work to do!” he announces joyfully, grinning into the dining room. Dean snorts and pushes his chair back from the table.

“Fine, Sammy, if you’re gonna be like that. I’ll be right back with the lights and ornaments,” he shouts up before disappearing into the storage room.

Gabriel and Castiel join Sam soon after, helping him plug in the power strips and figure out where they want their miscellaneous decorations to go. When Dean returns, Sam smacks the ‘play’ button on his phone, and they start to dance around the common space to ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ as they wind the lights around the tree.

Sam ends up standing on a stepstool at the base of the tree while Gabriel goes up the stairs and stands right next to the top and Cas stands halfway up the stairwell. They pass the end of the string around, singing and grinning, and Dean ‘supervises’. Which, of course, is just a fancy way of saying he stands there, watches them, and drinks a Chuckdamn blueberry smoothie.

Then, when he wants to put the angel on top of the tree, Sam gleefully informs him that since he didn’t help, he doesn’t get to do that part. He bestows that honor upon Gabriel, who practically vaults over the railing to put the little bauble on top, clings to the branches of the tree (while Castiel holds it in place with a very unamused expression) as he plugs it into the strand of lights, and then drops right into Sam’s arms.

Sam grins and winks at him before depositing him on the floor.

Rockin’ around The Christmas tree At the Christmas party hop

Dean grabs Cas’ hand and drags him down the stairs to the place in the doorway where he’d fastened the mistletoe earlier.

Mistletoe hung where you can see Every couple tries to stop

He dips his boyfriend and kisses him loudly, and Sam scoffs and turns away, rolling his eyes. “Those two are gross,” Gabe murmurs to him, and he makes a noise of assent.

“They really are,” he agrees.

--

December 8th

Sam sneaks out for his morning run at four and when he’s done with his three miles he walks over to the Fred Meyer-slash-Starbucks that’s barely a block away. He spends several hours there, trying to figure out what the fuck to get his brother (who never wants anything) and two angels (who basically have everything) and feeling a little guilty that he’s paying for it all with stolen money.

He figures it out eventually, but by the time he gets back it’s almost nine o’ clock and – predictably – nobody’s awake yet. (Actually, he’s not quite sure that’s true. Cas is a bit of an early riser and even if he wasn’t, Dean’s probably gotten into his pants by now. Predictably, he supposes he should say, Gabriel isn’t awake.)

He shoves the double-plastic-bagged gifts into a duffel bag that he then buries in the bottom of his closet to wrap later and decides to get started on making breakfast for everybody because, however much he loves his big brother, he really can’t cook for shit.

He spends a while staring at the pantry and then a while longer staring at the inside of the refrigerator before silently wishing he’d bought some ingredients when he went out. He’s just decided to make breakfast burritos (scrambled eggs, bacon, tons of cheese, secret sauce. They have all of those things. At least) when suddenly an archangel appears behind him.

“Whatcha doin’, Sammich?” Gabriel asks, far too loudly and cheerfully in comparison to his normal early-morning disposition. Sam jumps about ten feet.

When he calms his racing heartbeat, Sam replies, “I was about to make you some food. But now that you’ve scared the shit out of me, I think you can do it yourself.”

Gabriel looks at him evenly for a moment, then shrugs, snaps himself up the biggest, most phallic lollipop Sam has ever seen, and walks past him to sit at the table. “So you didn’t want my help with anything?” he asks.

Sam glances back at the pantry and something clicks.

When did Dean buy frosting? And… woah, there’s a lot of stuff in there.

“Want to make Christmas cookies while our brothers try to buy gifts for each other and end up just screwing in the middle of a grocery store?” he suggests. Gabriel almost chokes on his lollipop, and Sam’s not going near that with a goddamn barge pole.

“I’m on board for Christmas cookies,” Gabe replies, deliberately and obviously avoiding the second half of Sam’s sentence. He jumps out of his chair and the lollipop disappears.

Sam starts to knead out the premade dough they had in the fridge while Gabriel goes to color the icing. They work in comfortable silence, weaving around each other in a well-coordinated dance like they’ve been doing this forever.

Sam is so fucked.

Once the dough is a flat sheet on the counter, he lets Gabriel take over so he can cut them out into festive Santa Claus and Christmas Tree shapes and Sam grabs the bag of flour to put it away and drops it. It kind of explodes, sending up a veritable mushroom cloud and lightly dusting Gabriel’s arm while somehow miraculously missing Sam. Gabriel doesn’t seem to find this acceptable and he reaches into the bag without looking away from his carefully oriented cookie cutter and flicks a little flour onto Sam’s hand. Sam laughs, coats his hand in the stuff, and wipes it down Gabriel’s shirt.

That gets his attention. He grabs a handful and drops it on Sam’s head, coating his hair in white. Sam gives him a flour-ball to the face, which prompts Gabriel to leave white handprints all over Sam’s new shirt and then Sam picks up the bag and dumps it on Gabriel’s head.

Gabriel’s staring at him with this betrayed look that is, frankly, just absolutely adorable, and Sam wants to kiss it off his face, which. Fuck. FUCK.

He wasn’t supposed to do this, he tried so hard not to do this. He’s so completely ass-fucked it wasn’t even funny.

He’s glad Dean cleared his throat when he did because if they’d been left alone for one more second Sam’s 100% sure he was going to kiss him. Archangel mojo be damned, Sam had been about to kiss that self-satisfied smirk right off of his face and accept his death with gladness.

“Havin’ fun, you two?” Dean asks, not concealing his laughter at all. Sam shrugs.

“I mean, yeah, it was pretty fun. Hey Gabe, stick those cookies in the oven and then we can watch another Christmas movie.”

Gabriel grins and taps him on the shoulder. He turns. “Yeah?”

“We should probably shower and change first,” he mutters, and Sam tries so hard not to flush because that sounds like he means together and oh, shit, is he in deep.

“Yeah, put the cookies in the oven, I call dibs on the first shower.”

Gabriel smiles at him as he slides the baking sheet onto the top rack of the oven, and Dean rolls his eyes before disappearing back into the hallway. Sam nods awkwardly several times and then sprints toward the bathroom before he can embarrass himself further.

--

December 17th

Sam needs a hunt. Sam needs to get the hell away from Gabriel before he makes a mistake, like shoving him against a wall, pinning him there, and kissing the living shit out of him.

So he finds a hunt for himself. And for Dean. Cas if he wants to. And not Gabe, because if he gets stuck in a room (or a car, or a motel, or a diner, or a…) with Gabe again he isn’t going to be able to restrain himself.

He ends up running through a big emptyish building at 11pm trying to figure out where the fuck these vamps have tied up his brother. Eventually he kicks down a door and finds Dean leaning against a wall swinging his blade in lazy circles and grinning. Gabriel’s standing in the middle of the room looking slightly spent but otherwise completely fine surrounded by a huge circle of corpses, and Cas is watching Dean worriedly.

“Heya Sammy,” Dean says. “Nice’a ya to drop in. Missed the party.”

Sam fights the urge to stick out his tongue. “You suck,” he tells his brother.

So. Hunting is out.

--

December 20th

They set up an assembly line. All the presents for each person are put into that person’s bedroom, and then each person goes around to everyone else’s bedrooms to wrap their presents for each other.

It’s all very complicated and it takes the whole day, but Sam and Gabriel end up talking and laughing as they wrap their gifts for Dean and Cas and Cas, Dean, and Sam have a wrapping-paper fight while they all wrap their gifts for Gabriel. All in all, it ends pretty well.

That night, they all get drunk on heavily spiked eggnog and sing carols together and pass out in various states of undress in the living room together as While You Were Sleeping plays quietly on the TV behind them.

--

December 24th

It’s Gabriel jumping on his bed this time.

Sam buries his face deeper into the pillow and grabs the archangel by the ribcage, dragging him to one side and pinning him under Sam’s own long limbs.

“You, my good sir,” he announces without moving his face (which means his words are slightly muffled by his pillow), “are an asshole. For waking me up at seven in the am on Christmas Eve when you know I like to sleep in. For your transgression, you are now trapped.”

Gabriel laughs heartily and squirms, but doesn’t fight too hard, just kinda wriggles in the sheets until they’re suddenly lying practically chest-to-chest, basically cuddling, and oh. Shit. Right.

Sam had almost forgotten that that was the reason he was avoiding Gabe in the first place.

He smiles a little awkwardly and pulls away from him, trying not to look like he’s disappointed. He almost misses the way that Gabriel’s expression slams shut and most certainly does not miss the way his eyes follow him sadly as he stands up and walks over to his closet. “Well, congrats,” he says as cheerfully as he can. “You got me. I’m up. What did you want?”

He grabs a tank and a flannel and pulls them on over his bare chest, turning to look at Gabriel expectantly. The archangel just shrugs at him, and Sam scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“You’re tellin’ me that you woke me up for no reason?”

Gabriel nods, smirking widely now.

“I’m gonna get you, you son of a bitch,” Sam mutters, slipping his left arm through the flannel and then jumping onto the bed, on top of Gabriel, trapping him there with his whole body.

Gabriel is basically shrieking with laughter and Sam’s smiling genuinely because he always forgets how much fun they have together, and he swears to himself he’ll never avoid Gabriel again because it never gets him anywhere. All it does is make him miserable.

They roll around on Sam’s bed, wrestling and play fighting, and Sam’s still in his pajama pants and neither of them cares. Somehow it devolves into a tickle fight, because Gabriel’s always brought out the most childlike parts of Sam, and they’re both screaming by the time the person in the doorway clears his throat.

They freeze.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam mutters, trying to hide his face. Gabriel shoves his shoulder, forcing him to look up at his brother, who’s watching him with amusement concealed not at all.

“Havin’ fun, Sammy?” he asks. Sam doesn’t answer. He just stands up, off the bed, and brushes off his clothes.

“What’s up?”

“Cas bought burgers. For breakfast.” Dean seems extremely excited about this prospect. Sam laughs.

“Let me guess. He also bought you pie, your favorite pie, because he knows your simplistic, animal brain like the back of his hand and loves you more than anything in the universe. Right?”

Dean nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! Now c’mon, there’s somethin’ for everyone.”

Sam rolls his eyes fondly before following his brother out of his room, but he does feel guilty for leaving Gabriel there. However, Gabe jumps up and follows him instantly, so he doesn’t feel too bad.

His is a veggie burger with lettuce and tomato slices and cheese etc. etc. It’s exactly his kind of thing, and he smiles at and hugs Cas before he digs into it. Considering their family and the lives they’ve led, he doesn’t even think it’s weird to be eating burgers for breakfast anymore.

After breakfast, they all chill in the living room for a while. People say ‘evil never rests’, but apparently it does, at least for Christmas. Phineas and Ferb lied to Sam!

It starts snowing around 3pm, and Sam suppresses his groan when he sees it, because he knows Gabriel will go into full-on child mode and want to play in it, and he also knows that the stupid archangel will be so adorable that he’ll submit without complaint because he can never deny him anything.

And surely enough, Gabriel glances out the window, sees the white powder beginning to dust the streets, and grins wide enough to light up an entire city block. He turns to Dean, who’s also smiling huge, and Cas, who looks indifferent, and finally Sam, who forces enthusiasm he wouldn’t fake for anyone else because it’s Gabriel, and he just can’t.

Gabriel snaps them all up winter coats and gloves and hats and scarves until they’re wrapped so tightly that they’re barely mobile and they make their way out into the snow, and it’s immediately an Angels VS. Winchesters all-out no-hold-barred snowball fight. And somehow the fake enthusiasm becomes genuine, and Sam laughs with the rest of them and builds Dean a big mound of ice to hide behind and dumps snow down the back of Cas’ coat and hits Gabe in the crotch with a snowball. (He doesn’t feel it, immortal archangelic bastard.)

It takes them two hours to finally wear themselves out, and they go back inside for hot chocolate with (in Gabriel’s case) far too much whipped cream and definitely too many marshmallows. Dean cooks them up a nice, big-ass Christmas Eve dinner, promises even more on Christmas Day, and they eat together in the dining room like a real family, surrounded by candles and a fire crackling in the hearth.

(Cas insisted on both.)

After dinner they curl up on the couches again, and this time Gabe isn’t even trying to hide how clingy he is. He’s in dog mode now, jumping all over Sam and not even caring what Sam thinks of it. Dean and Cas are cuddling in the other armchair like the sickeningly adorable couple they are, but Gabriel can’t seem to stop moving. One minute he’s in Sam’s lap, the next he’s on his shoulders, then he’s laying across the whole couch with his head on Sam’s thighs.

(Sam doesn’t mind, and he hates that he doesn’t mind.)

Sam leaves the room before the end of act one of Die Hard because he knows if he stays he’s going to do something wrong.

--

December 25th

It’s Christmas morning, and Sam wakes up to White Christmas from- wait, is Cas singing?

He pulls on a pair of pajama pants and makes it halfway down the stairs before he nearly falls over, because Dean and Cas are singing a duet in the kitchen as they make the coffee cake, dancing together like fucking dorks and smiling softly at each other. Dean laughs at Cas at regular intervals and readjusts to show him how to do something, be it ‘the note is here’ or ‘no, the steps are like this’ or ‘hold the spoon like that’.

They’re so in love, and Sam is… Sam is jealous. He’s man enough to admit it. He wants that for himself, and he’ll probably never get it, because he’s a coward.

But he’s happy for them, too, because they deserve it after everything that’s happened to them.

They finish the coffee cake. Sam gets Gabriel up and makes alcoholic eggnog because that’s what they all need at 10am on Christmas morning. And then they do gifts.

Dean gets a lot of records and cassette tapes and DVDs of various things. Sam gets books upon books upon books, some books he asked for and a lot he didn’t but wanted anyway. Cas gets a ‘How to Be Human’ starter kit from both Sam and Dean, as well as a promise ring from Dean (goddammit, those two are too cute) and a portable DVD player from Sam, plus something special from Gabe he says he’ll give him later. Gabriel gets a photo album from Sam, because he said he wanted one. He claims to love it. He gets chocolate-covered cherries from Cas, and when he runs into the kitchen to put them into the fridge, Dean stops him on his way back.

“What’s up?” he asks, and Dean is quite obviously fighting back his smirk as he replies.

“Sammy, couldja go stand next to him?”

Sam is supposed to be the smart one. Sam is supposed to be the one who figures it all out and is always one step ahead… it’s Christmas, and he’s with his family, and there hasn’t been a case in a while, and everything feels too peaceful. He’s off his game.

So he walks right into the trap – literally, he supposes. He goes over to stand next to Gabriel, and when he turns back around, Cas has already left the room.

“My gift to Gabe is really a gift to you both,” Dean tells them. “Look up,” is all he adds before he disappears.

Sam and Gabriel look at each other dubiously before craning their necks to figure out what he’s talking about and-

Oh.

In the doorway, hanging from the frame above them, are a few green leaves. Sam cringes internally and wants to punch his brother in the face. And then he looks at Gabe.

Gabe looks… different than he has in a while. He looks more confident, more sure of himself, and Sam hadn’t thought that was possible, but apparently he is. “Samsquatch,” he says firmly, “if you’re gonna kiss me, then just kiss me already.”

So Sam does.

And when he has an archangel’s legs wrapped around his waist and an archangel’s hands in his hair and an archangel’s tongue practically shoving its way down his throat, he thinks maybe he won’t punch his brother in the face the next time he sees him, after all.

He’ll probably just punch him in the arm.

[blackkudos]

Maxine Sullivan

Maxine Sullivan (May 13, 1911 – April 7, 1987), born Marietta Williams in Homestead, Pennsylvania, was an American jazz vocalist and performer.

As a vocalist, Maxine Sullivan was active for half a century, from the mid-1930s to just before her death in 1987. She is best known for her 1937 recording of a swing version of the Scottish folk song "Loch Lomond". Throughout her career, Sullivan also appeared as a performer on film as well as on stage. A precursor to better-known later vocalists such as Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughan, Maxine Sullivan is considered one of the best jazz vocalists of the 1930s. Singer Peggy Lee named Sullivan as a key influence in several interviews.

Career

Sullivan began her music career singing in her uncle's band, The Red Hot Peppers, in her native Pennsylvania, in which she occasionally played the flugelhorn and the valve trombone, in addition to singing. In the mid 1930s she was discovered by Gladys Mosier (then working in Ina Ray Hutton's big band). Mosier introduced her to Claude Thornhill, which led to her first recordings made in June 1937. Shortly thereafter, Sullivan became a featured vocalist at the Onyx Club in New York City. During this period, she began forming a professional and close personal relationship with bassist John Kirby, who became her second husband in 1938.

Early sessions with Kirby in 1937 yielded a hit recording of a swing version of the Scottish folk song "Loch Lomond" featuring Sullivan on vocals. This early success "branded" Sullivan's style, leading her to sing similar swing arrangements of traditional folk tunes mostly arranged by pianist Claude Thornhill, such as "If I Had a Ribbon Bow" and "I Dream of Jeanie". Her early popularity also led to a brief appearance in the movie Going Places with Louis Armstrong.

In 1940, Sullivan and Kirby were featured on the radio program Flow Gently Sweet Rhythm, making them the first black jazz stars to have their own weekly radio series. During the 1940s Sullivan then performed with a wide range of bands, including her husband's sextet and groups headed by Teddy Wilson, Benny Carter, and Jimmie Lunceford. Sullivan performed at many of New York's hottest jazz spots such as the Ruban Bleu, the Village Vanguard, the Blue Angel, and the Penthouse. In 1949, Sullivan appeared on the short-lived CBS Television series Uptown Jubilee, and in 1953 starred in the play, Take a Giant Step.

In 1956, Sullivan shifted from her earlier style and recorded the album A Tribute to Andy Razaf; originally on the Period record label, the album featured Sullivan's interpretations of a dozen tunes featuring Razaf's lyrics. The album also highlighted the music of Fats Waller, including versions of "Keepin' Out of Mischief Now", "How Can You Face Me?", "My Fate Is in Your Hands", "Honeysuckle Rose", "Ain't Misbehavin'", and "Blue Turning Grey Over You". Sullivan was joined by a sextet that was reminiscent of John Kirby's group of 15 years prior, including trumpeter Charlie Shavers and clarinetist Buster Bailey.

From 1958 Sullivan worked as a nurse before resuming her musical career in 1966, performing in jazz festivals alongside her fourth husband Cliff Jackson, who can be heard on the 1966 live recording of Sullivan's performance at the Manassas Jazz Festival. Sullivan continued to perform throughout the 1970s and made a string of recordings during the 1980s, despite being over 70 years old. She was nominated for the 1979 Tony Award for Best Featured Actress in a Musical (won by Carlin Glynn) for her role in My Old Friends, and participated in the film biography Maxine Sullivan: Love to Be in Love, shortly before her death.

Personal life

Sullivan married four times; her second husband was the band leader John Kirby (married 1938, divorced 1941), while her fourth husband, whom she married in 1950, was the stride pianist Cliff Jackson, who died in 1970. She had two children, Orville Williams (b. 1928) and Paula Morris (b. 1945). [1][2]

Death

Maxine Sullivan died aged 75 in 1987 in New York City after suffering a seizure. She was posthumously inducted into the Big Band and Jazz Hall of Fame in 1998.

Discography

Leonard Feather Presents Maxine Sullivan 1956 (Period, 1956)

Leonard Feather Presents Maxine Sullivan, Vol. II (Period, 1956)

Close as Pages in a Book with Bob Wilber (Monmouth Evergreen, 1969)

Live at the Overseas Press Club (Chiaroscuro, 1970)

Sullivan, Shakespeare & Hyman with Dick Hyman (Monmouth Evergreen, 1971)

We Just Couldn't Say Goodbye (Audiophile, 1978)

Maxine Sullivan with the Ike Isaacs Quartet (Audiophile, 1981)

The Queen Maxine Sullivan & Her Swedish Jazz All Stars (Kenneth records, 1981)

Maxine with Ted Easton (Audiophile, 1982)

Great Songs from the Cotton Club (Stash, 1984)

On Tour with the Allegheny Jazz Quartet (Jump, 1984)

Sings the Music of Burton Lane with Keith Ingham (Stash, 1985)

Uptown with Scott Hamilton (Concord Jazz, 1985)

Good Morning, Life! (Audiophile, 1985)

I Love to Be in Love (Tono, 1986)

Enjoy Yourself! (Audiophile, 1986)

Together with Keith Ingham (Atlantic, 1987)

Swingin' Sweet with Scott Hamilton (Concord Jazz, 1988)

Spring Isn't Everything with Loomis McGlohon (Audiophile, 1989)

At Vine St. Live (DRG, 1992)

The Music of Hoagy Carmichael (Audiophile, 1993)

1937–1938 (Classics, 1997)

Love...Always (Baldwin Street Music, 1997)

As guest

Bobby Hackett, Live from Manassas (Fat Cat's Jazz,)

World's Greatest Jazz Band of Yank Lawson and Bob Haggart, On Tour II (World Jazz, 1977)

Charlie Shavers, The Complete Charlie Shavers with Maxine Sullivan (Bethlehem, 1957)

Film and television credits

1938 - Going Places (Film)

1939 - St. Louis Blues (Film)

1942 - Some of These Days (Short)

1949 - Sugar Hill Times Episode 1.2 (TV series)

1958 - Jazz Party (DuMont TV Series)

1970 - The David Frost Show (TV series)

1986 - Brown Sugar (Documentary)

1994 - A Great Day in Harlem (Documentary)

Theater credits

1939 - Swingin' the Dream

1953 - Take a Giant Step

1954 - Flight From Fear (directed by Powell Lindsay, a play about the numbers racket)

1979 - My Old Friends