#creole inspired

[sketchonista]

Creole FW24 shot at Paris Fashionweek

[fieriframes]

[The sauce just absorbs into the pasta and the spice is incredible. You just feel warm when you're done eating it. Throwing up is not a group activity. Had you ever had Cajun Creole food before?]

[sillysmuttyputty]

My latest story project

Character Bio: Bruno Santoro

Full Name: Bruno Théodore Santoro Age: 32 Heritage: Half Greek-Italian, Half Creole (Black) Appearance: Bruno is a striking figure, standing at an impressive 6’6” with a lean yet muscular build that exudes both elegance and quiet strength. His skin carries a warm, golden-brown hue, accentuating his regal features: high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and dark, almond-shaped eyes that seem to pierce right through to a person’s soul. His hair, a cascade of long, incredibly curly locks, is usually tied into a bun for work but left loose during rare moments of relaxation, framing his face like a lion's mane. His sense of style is understated but sharp, favoring tailored suits in muted tones with just a touch of flair—a patterned pocket square or cufflinks that hint at his Creole roots.

Personality: Bruno is a man of paradoxes. Quiet and introspective by nature, he possesses a razor-sharp mind that absorbs everything around him. As the consigliere to the half-Irish mob boss, his keen observation skills and strategic brilliance make him an invaluable asset. He speaks with purpose, his blunt honesty often cutting to the heart of the matter, though this trait can make him seem brusque or socially awkward at times. Those who earn his loyalty, however, discover a deeply protective and compassionate side to him. For these select few, Bruno is a fortress, willing to sacrifice anything to ensure their safety.

Despite his reserved demeanor, Bruno’s presence commands attention. He has an innate charisma that draws people in, though he himself remains unaware of it. His wit is dry, his humor subtle, and his laughter a rare but cherished gift.

Background: Born to a Greek-Italian father and a Creole mother, Bruno grew up straddling two rich but complex cultural legacies. His mother, a skilled voodoo practitioner, imbued him with a respect for the mystical, though he keeps this side of his life largely hidden. His father, on the other hand, taught him the art of negotiation and the value of calculated risks—skills that would later define his role in the mob.

Bruno’s intersex identity was a secret carefully guarded by his parents, and while he has come to terms with it privately, he shares this truth with no one, guarding it as fiercely as the other secrets in his life. His bisexuality, too, remains a closely held secret, though his ability to navigate both the masculine and feminine aspects of his personality adds depth to his understanding of people.

Strengths:

Strategic Genius: Bruno excels at seeing the bigger picture and anticipating moves before they happen.

Empathy and Loyalty: His protective nature and unwavering loyalty make him a pillar of strength for those he cares about.

Unflappable Composure: Bruno’s calm demeanor allows him to navigate even the most dangerous situations with grace.

Observational Skills: He notices details others overlook, making him an unmatched advisor and confidant.

Weaknesses:

Bluntness: His unfiltered honesty can alienate or offend those who don’t understand his intentions.

Social Awkwardness: In large social settings, Bruno’s reserved nature and quiet demeanor can make him seem aloof.

Emotional Guardedness: His protective instincts extend to himself, often making it difficult for him to fully open up to others.

Motivations and Role in the Story: Bruno serves as the moral compass and quiet power behind the mob’s throne. Though many see him as the logical heir to the family, his preference for the shadows and his deep-seated loyalty to the half-Irish boss keep him in his current role. However, his position is not without its tensions—both within the family and with himself, as he wrestles with his true desires and the weight of others’ expectations.

Bruno’s presence is a stabilizing force in the chaotic world of the mob, his intellect and quiet strength often tipping the scales in the family’s favor. Yet, he’s not without his own demons, including a longing for freedom and authenticity in a world that demands secrecy.

Bruno Santoro is more than just a consigliere; he is a man of mystery, contradiction, and quiet brilliance. In the cutthroat world of mob politics and supernatural intrigue, he is a figure of unparalleled depth and complexity, proving that sometimes the sharpest weapons are those hidden in plain sight.

[tokzok]

Louisiana Sweet Potato Pancakes: Fluffy, Flavorful, and Perfect for Breakfast

[gulfcoastinspired]

A Comparison of Cajun and Creole Cooking

Creative Cuisine: Culinary Creations from Gulf Coast Kitchens Welcome to the flavorful world of Gulf Coast cuisine! Nestled along the southern shores of the United States, from Louisiana to Alabama, lies a culinary landscape rich in history, culture, and, most importantly, delicious food. At the heart of this gastronomic journey are two prominent styles of cooking: Cajun and Creole. These…

[kebijoox]

Fabriquées en forme infini ces boucles d’oreilles ajoutent une dimension symbolique à votre style. La surface polie reflète la lumière de manière subtile, ajoutant une touche de glamour à chaque mouvement. Leur design épuré les rend parfaits pour les occasions spéciales. Représentant l’amour sans fin, l’harmonie et la continuité, ces créoles apportent une signification profonde.

La légèreté des boucles d’oreilles en argent massif offre un port confortable, tandis que la durabilité du matériau garantit une beauté qui résiste à l’épreuve du temps. La fermeture sécurisée assure un ajustement parfait, permettant à ces créoles de devenir un élément essentiel de votre collection de bijoux.

Ces boucles d’oreilles créoles en argent massif sont plus qu’un simple bijou, c’est un cadeau empreint de signification. Offrez-les à une personne chère pour célébrer l’amour infini, les amitiés durables ou pour marquer un moment spécial dans la vie.

[clone-wars-retteyo-au]

#Man I want a clone language #Something similar to amatakka or something #Please someone teach me how to create a language #And a culture #I beg you #All I want is big brother rex sing to his adorable little baby brothers in a super cool clone language <- OP's tags

Me: *Breathing heavily, shaking with anticipation to talk all about my ideas for a clone Galactic Basic-Mando'a Creole language with hundreds of words and phrase unique to clones that could not easily exist in other languages and is clone culture specific*

Me: *Remembers my pages of notes on an original clone sign language that becomes one of the main languages used in clone society in my AU and is a part of everyday language and I'm so proud of it*

Me: *Shaking like a maraca*

Okay, so I've read lots of fics where the clones speak mando'a, and actually I kind of liked the idea. But it's come to bother me that I get more and more of the feeling that the clones are presented as mandalorians and not their own culture.

The main problem I see is, that the clones aren't viewed as sentient life by most people, especially the kaminoans and their trainers, who, at the beginning of the whole cloning process, were nearly only mandalorians. Of course there were a few people like f.e. Kal skirata, who, if I remember correctly, actually adopted a bunch of clones, but let's be honest, that's not the case with most of the other trainers and especially not the kaminoans.

So, I've thought about it and I believe that it's not that improbable that the clones actually picked up quite a few words of mando'a. Maybe a few of the older clones were even thought a bit by some of the nicer mandalorian trainers. And imagine a few little clone cadets hearing those mandos talk in their own language - of course they'd want to learn it and share it with their brothers.

But most mandalorians that are on kamino don't even like the clones and definitely don't accept them as some of their own culture. So using mando'a in front of them could be dangerous and be punished. Talking your mind freely was dangerous enough as it is. The clones weren't supposed to have too much of their own free will, after all.

So they start developing their own words, their own language. It could be inspired by mando'a, but not too much. Because they weren't mandalorians, they weren't accepted by those people. They weren't accepted by anyone but their own brothers.

Not to mention that it was something of their own. Something they could claim and cling to and that belonged to only them when not even their own bodies and especially not their future belonged to themselves.

So in the middle of the night, after a too long, too painful training session, the clones would lie side by side with their brothers and comfort each other with their own words. Words that weren't used day by day to make them feel small and helpless, but words that were spoken softly and in a comforting and loving way.

The clones would also start developing their own sign language very early on. Not the classical military hand signs or something like bsl or asl or something, more like little movements of their heads and fingers. Maybe they'd use something similar to morse code as well.

They were mostly supervised and talking in your own language would be the worst thing you could do. None of the nat borns, especially none on kamino, could know, how much of their own free will they had. They'd risk being reconditioned for it.

So the clones would mostly communicate with very subtle signs. They grow more and more perceptive, especially when it comes to their brothers. For outsiders it might even look like they're barely moving a muscle while they have a full conversation going on.

The spoken language would be reserved for the few times they aren't directly supervised. Maybe older clones would cheer up the younger ones, that they find secretly crying and grieving, after yet another brother has been decommissioned for a stupid reason. They'd whisper softly to them in their own words - not the nat borns words. Never.

Some of the bolder clones might whisper in secret while in the mess hall and eating the same tasteless rations they've eaten for all of their cursed existence.

They'd develop stories to tell each other whenever possible. Stories that are of parents and their children, of flowers and trees, of funny animals that run around on wide fields and high mountains, stories of freedom. Of all the things they didn't have, but wished they did.

[interact-if]

Our second edition of the Black History Month Author Spotlight series features beloved author, C.C. Hill (@when-life-gives-you-lemons-if)!

(CC is an absolute institution. What better way to celebrate Valentine’s than by doing a feature of the slice-of-life romance queen herself? CC is one the most inspiring, supportive IF writers out there, and it was a great honor to pick her brain! Read on for pandemic-setting feel good stories and Creole-based spells!)

Author: C.C. Hill

I'm from Haiti, born and raised. I love red wine, ice cream, and I'm obsessed with true crime podcasts.

Games: When Life Gives You Lemons (Slice-of-Life)

Synopsis: You play as an MC starting a new life in a small town called Lemon. It’s a story about self-discovery, love, and parenthood—a comfort story where the love interests want to sweep you off your feet.

Games: The Midnight Saga (Horror)

Synopsis: After finding yourself trapped in another dimension, you and your friends must fight for survival and defeat the monsters that lurk in the shadows. Make sure to grab a weapon as your quiet Halloween night turns into an out-of-this-world adventure!

Quote from the interview:

What mostly inspired Lemon in particular was the need for a feel-good story—a story where the character just needs a break. No magic, no monsters, just going through life and having the romance options fall in love with them no matter what. It was just the need for comfort, for feel-good moments, for romance, and a little bit of drama.

Read on for the full interview!

Tell me more about yourself! What are some things new readers or long-time readers might not know about you?

I'm from Haiti, born and raised. I love red wine, ice cream, and I'm obsessed with true crime podcasts.

Can you tell me a bit about what you’re working on right now and your journey into interactive fiction? What inspired the game/story you’re currently writing?

I'm working on so many things it should be illegal for my brain to operate this way. But mainly, When Life Gives You Lemons. My plan is to focus on the final part in March, do some beta testing, and submit it to Hosted Games in April for my birthday month.

I'm also under contract with Heart’s Choice, writing Spices of the Heart, with hopes of completing it this year. On top of that, I’m working on publishing my first visual novel, The Wedding. It’s close to completion, and I have the third quarter of 2025 planned for publication.

I only started writing interactive fiction in 2020. When the pandemic hit, I needed something to keep my brain occupied, and five years later, I’ve published three games and still have a ton of projects in progress.What mostly inspired Lemon in particular was the need for a feel-good story—a story where the character just needs a break. No magic, no monsters, just going through life and having the romance options fall in love with them no matter what. It was just the need for comfort, for feel-good moments, for romance, and a little bit of drama.

How has your identity, heritage/background, upbringing, or personal experiences influenced your storytelling or writing process? OR How does your work feature aspects of your identity / experience?

My first game, The Midnight Saga, was heavily inspired by my background and where I'm from. The story itself is based on an old Haitian folklore about not staying outside after midnight—if you do, the Keeper of Midnight will eat you. I took that idea and built the characters around it.

I even managed to include some spells written in Haitian Creole. It was a lot of fun to write, and even though Book 2 is currently on hiatus, this story has a special place in my heart because it was my first game. The characters are a representation of my people and the struggles they’ve gone through. I’m really happy that it was my debut story.

What are some of the most rewarding or challenging aspects of writing Interactive Fiction for you?

For me, it’s branching and being able to write an MC and other characters in a way that readers can truly connect with. Lately, I’ve been writing a lot of feel-good romance and slice-of-life stories, and I’m starting to feel like this is my comfort zone—and I want to stay here forever.

I never want to create a romance option that is inherently bad or purposely deceitful. My biggest challenge is writing characters who are flawed and complex—where readers can love them or hate them—but making sure they aren’t just villains for the sake of it. They’re simply existing in the world they were created in.

What does your writing process look like? Any rituals or habits? Any tips, tricks, philosophies or approaches that have worked very well for you?

My writing process is a mess. My brain gets pulled in so many directions. When I get an idea, I have to code it, shape it, and give it life—otherwise, it’s going to bug me forever. That’s why I end up with so many WIPs. I need to see them through, at least to a short demo, to see if they make sense.

My desk is also full of notes, and I basically write on anything—pieces of napkins, tissue boxes, whatever is nearby. One weird habit I have is that some of the best changes I’ve made to my games, those "spark" moments, happen when I’m in the shower. It’s weird and strange, but it works.

What’re you excited to tackle/implement/work on next? Or anything you’re looking forward to in the year ahead?

Keep writing romance and feel-good slice-of-life stories. Get When Life Gives You Lemons published this year. Focus on doing this full-time. Publish my visual novel.

Overall, just stay busy and be productive.

If you were to say one thing to your readers, other authors, and/or the interactive fiction community: what would it be?

To the readers—us authors don’t have all the answers. Sometimes, we start writing a story and end up forgetting certain plots or characters, which is easy to do when writing interactive fiction. So yes, we often write ourselves into a corner and just put a period there so the story can progress.

To the authors—write stories you love, something you would want to read. It makes it easier to keep going because if it’s a story you love, you’ll want to see how it ends, and that will push you to persevere.

This-or-that segment: (red = CC's pick)

Coffee or tea?

Early mornings or late nights?

Angsty or Cozy romances?  

Steady progress or frenzied binge-writing followed by periods of calm?

Introvert or extrovert?

Plotter or pantser?

[hoodreader]

𝒲𝐼𝐿𝒟 𝒞𝐻𝐼𝐿𝒟 ♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

in sidereal, it’s the mercury (ashlesha, jyeshtha, revati) & jupiter (punarvasu, vishakha, pbp) naks. i can also see mrigashira because that’s the “wanderer” nakshatra.

and in general (both tropical and sidereal), the mercurials, jovials, and lunarians. always on the move. a lot like birds, cats, or snakes. these planets are most associated with change and fluidity

for women, it can induce a vibe similar to Esmeralda from the hunchback of notre dame. charming, witty, sensual, fluid, highly intelligent, and perceptive. *these women may be exotified or exceptionalized, which makes sense because i’m pretty sure Esmeralda’s character is derived from a fetishistic caricature?

another example of this wild woman trope in media is:

chel (el dorado) punarvasu mars

merida (brave) jyestha moon, mrigashira mars

pocahontas (disney) no asc :[

isabella madrigal (encanto) vishakha ascendant

𝒯𝒪𝒰𝒞𝐻𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒪𝒩 𝐸𝒳𝒪𝒯𝐼𝐹𝐼𝒞𝒜𝒯𝐼𝒪𝒩. . .

sade ~ revati moon

exotified for her mixed heritage

she also has this quote that’s always ascribed to her even though she never said it, but i find it funny that it’s so associated with her: “I like my hair messy. My love wild. And my sex aggressive. But I’m still a sensitive woman, just with passion.”

she literally never said that lmao

beyoncé ~ vishakha moon and i believe asc (edit: i kinda feel like she’s swati now)

her creole heritage has been exotified by herself and others

i think the cowgirl aesthetic she does also evokes a vibe of being a wild woman, because the “old west” is a time where the country was viewed as untamed or free

then she is globally inspired. she will make an afro beats song with arabic melismas in the background

interesting bc this doesn’t happen to her sister, who has the exact same ancestry! solange isn’t really exotified. instead, she’s viewed as a Super Nigga

shakira ~ revati asc, punarvasu sun.

she literally has a song called “Gitana” - which is spanish for gypsy, a derogatory term used on romani people

she calls herself one to basically assert that she’s free spirited, nomadic, & liberated (and she uses stereotypes in the lyrics as she does so)

she’s also exotified by the western world for being both colombian and lebanese, and she partakes in this by exotifying herself too . . . no shade

rihanna ~ revati asc & moon

being bajan/caribbean in the western market automatically exotified her, especially with her vibrant cat-like green hazel eyes

her accent! people tend to talk about her accent bc how clearly caribbean she is lmao

so yeah, that’s just something i noticed.

if u a black girl and u ever been asked/told:

what u mixed with?

are u mixed?

ur pretty for a [black girl, darkskin, etc]

u have “good hair” (👎🏾)

asked if u were african

niggas talked about how y’all would make “pretty babies” because of mixing

non-black men fetishizing u for being black

etc

check ur chart to see if u have those nakshatras or if u have mercury/jupiter/lunar influence in tropical/sidereal. these are more forms of exotification that are common

and disclaimer, exotification obviously isn’t good lmao. there’s no such thing as being “pretty for a ___” and there’s no such thing as a good hair texture. that’s some slave minded bullshit. and ANYBODY who fetishizes u - black or non black - doesn’t deserve to be with u. period 🙏🏾

[camisoledadparis]

Richmond "Jimmie" Barthe (1909-1989) was an African-American sculptor and a key figure in the Harlem Renaissance in the 1930s. That he was also a gay man who expressed his orientation in his work is most likely why he fell into obscurity by the 1940s.

Much of his art depicted African-American men in sensual poses, often nude. Today, his work seems not that confrontational, but in a basically racist, sexually nervous America of the middle of the last century, it is remarkable that his work received the acclaim that it did.

Barthe was born to Creole parents in Bay St. Louis, Miss., and his art brought him out of poverty. A beautiful, bright boy, he was already winning awards for his drawings by the age of 12. Inspired by the neoclassical art he saw in the homes of the wealthy folks he worked for as a houseboy in New Orleans, he developed a lifelong interest in Greek and Roman mythology.

Funded by his local church, he attended school at the Art Institute of Chicago and began to have adult affairs with men who sometimes became patrons. He also had a brief affair with author and actor Richard Bruce Nugent, who was a cast member in Dubose Heyward's play Porgy.

In 1930 he relocated to New York and attended A'Leila Walker's "Dark Tower" gatherings, known as a venue where black and white men and women, often gay, mingled. The photographer and writer Carl Van Vechten was deeply involved with the black community of New York in the '30s and was an ardent supporter of Barthe's work. His reputation grew and his work was included in a 1935 exhibit of African-American art at the Museum of Modern Art.

He had success and fame. He even had a female patron who set up a trust for him that gave him the freedom to work without financial worries. But he was still an outsider in many ways. He was not a part of the white art world, and his uncompromising homosexuality kept him distanced somewhat from other artists of the Harlem Renaissance. His love life was a series of short affairs that never developed further.

Constantly searching for community, he moved to Jamaica only to find himself even more estranged from others. He fell into deep depression and mental illness. Commissions came sporadically, and he met them with varied results, teetering on the edge financially and emotionally.

In 1975 he moved to Pasadena, Calif., and a year later curators at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art included his work in "Two Centuries of Black American Art." The attention to his work, the growing respect of a younger audience to artists of the Harlem Renaissance, and the support of his friends brought Barthe stability once again. He lived out his later years as a treasured part of the art community, dying in Pasadena March 6, 1989.

(The Advocate)

[pixelglam]

23 Must Have Lots for Willow Creek | My New Orleans Inspired World by Amelie

Watch Video Here

Pendula View

New Orleans Home (cc) | missamelies

Parkshore | Pugowned

New Orleans Family House | PlumbobKingdom

New Orleans Family House (2nd) | PlumbobKingdom

Sage Estates

1700 Sage Avenue | simlicy

New Orleans Family House (3rd) | PlumbobKingdom

City Park

Magnolia Blossom Reno | PlumbobKingdom

Courtyard Lane

Garden District Home | JessicaClaire

Big Colonial Family Home | VickeHanviken

New Orleans Creole Villa | VickeHanviken

American Townhouse | BriaSimsYT

New Orleans Boho | EggErol

Foundry Cove

Hallow Slough | Pugowned

Garden Essence | Pugowned

Shotgun Starter 19.5k | BriaSimsYT

Shotgun House | Julie1112

New Orleans Shotgun House | Volespriit

Crawdad Quarter

French Quarter Gym & Spa | BusyBirdontheRun

Willow Creek Archive | tinaveronika2

Blue Velvet Jazz Lounge | TheVibrantVirgo

The Oceanarium Discovery (cc) | nicolesimblr

[swan-of-sunrise]

...Is Love, Sweet Love (Part II)

Summary: Eight months later, (Y/N) and her daughter Molly have settled in well at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, with (Y/N) teaching a Classical Literature class and six-year-old Molly taking courses while learning more about her telepathic skills. Charles, having fallen head over heels for the school's new professor, debates whether or not to act upon his feelings.

Pairing: Charles Xavier X F!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Yes, I know, it's slightly unhinged to write a Part II to a one-shot that I published over 2 years ago, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head and here's what I came up with! Again, "What The World Needs Now Is Love" by Jackie DeShannon partially inspired this fic, so you should totally give it a listen if you haven't heard it before :)

…Is Love, Sweet Love May 1980 Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, Westchester (Previous Chapter)

Despite living in his family’s mansion for the majority of his life and spending countless hours of his childhood eagerly exploring its sprawling grounds, Charles Xavier hadn’t truly grown to appreciate the tranquility that the estate provided until he’d re-started Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. The sight of young mutants happily playing on the playground and partaking in group sports without feeling the need to hide their differences away brought a smile to Charles’ face, and the cheerful laughter of his students paired with the beautiful spring sunshine inspired him to once again enjoy his lunch outside with a good book…although, it was difficult to deny that he spent far more time listening in on Professor (Y/L/N)’s nearby Classical Literature class than actually reading his novel.

“Can anyone tell me why the characters of King Lear worship the pagan gods and not any form of Christianity?” (Y/N), who was sitting cross-legged on the grass in front of her small class, arched a brow as she surveyed the silent group of teenagers before her. “C’mon, guys, you know this. We went over the background of the play during our last lecture, and I seem to remember some of you even taking notes…” After a moment, a timid hand went up from the red-headed girl in the front and (Y/N) smiled. “Yes, Jean?”

“The play is set in ancient Britain, long before the arrival of Christianity.”

“Very good, Jean!” Jean Grey’s shoulders relaxed and beside her, her friend Jubilee gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Now, why would Shakespeare choose to set this play in this specific time period? Think about the time period in which Shakespeare lived, and what the social and political climate in England was like.” A dark-haired boy towards the back of their group raised his hand. “Go ahead, Remy.”

Remy LeBeau lowered his hand and began fiddling with his deck of playing cards as he spoke in his distinct French-Creole accent. “Well, Professor, that was when there was a lil’ trouble brewin’ ‘tween the Catholics and Protestants over there, right? He prob’ly didn’t wanna ruffle any feathers by puttin’ a popular religion in his plays, so he had his characters worship the gods from ol’ Roman mythology; anybody who’d be offended would’ve been long dead, so Willy did what any guy’d do to keep his head on his shoulders.”

Charles smiled to himself as the class laughed and (Y/N)’s lips curved upwards into a reluctant grin. “A little unorthodoxly put, Remy, but you’re absolutely correct. In the play, Lear states that-” She was cut off when the familiar sound of the school bell rang out and her students started to pack their things away. “Remember, on Monday we’ll begin performing your assigned scenes so be sure to work on memorizing your lines with your groups over the weekend. Have a good rest of your day!”

While they laughed and talked amongst themselves, the students headed back towards the mansion for their next class and with a fond smile on her face, (Y/N) looked away from them and finished packing her binders and books into her messenger bag. The novel in Charles’ hand was all but forgotten in favor of admiring his colleague and friend, who’s effortless beauty almost always succeeded in making him stutter over his words and caused him to blush in a way that he hadn’t since he was a schoolboy; she was dressed casually in a striped button-down blouse tucked into a faded pair of high-waisted jeans and well-worn Birkenstocks, with her (Y/H/C) hair pulled away from her face by a blue headband and her reading glasses dangling around her neck by a colorful beaded chain. Charles took in all of her striking figure, but it was her content smile and the happy gleam in her (Y/E/C) eyes that made him release a lovelorn sigh and look down at his lap.

Charles was infatuated with Professor (Y/L/N). Well, it perhaps started out as a simple infatuation, back when she’d first arrived on his doorstep pleading for him to help her daughter; her kindness and caring nature in regards to Molly’s safety and well-being was touching, considering how many parents he’d met who were overly eager to pass their mutant children off to a complete stranger just to be rid of them. After hearing their story, he knew that she couldn’t bear to be separated from her five-year-old and so, he asked that she stay and teach at the school to ensure that they would remain together. That was eight months ago and since then, the infatuation had evolved into a full-blown romantic crush; Charles was captivated by (Y/N)’s capacity for compassion, enchanted by her quick wit and natural beauty, in awe of her progressive idealism in regards to mutant rights and more than appreciative of her boundless consideration in regards to his disability.

Yes, Charles was enamored by his school’s newest professor, but he was also plagued by insecurity. The last woman he was romantically involved with was Agent Moira MacTaggert of the CIA, all the way back in 1962 when he was a dashing young man who’d just earned his doctorate and possessed an egotistical streak wider than the English Channel; nowadays, his ego was tempered and his youthful good looks were beginning to give way to wrinkles and streaks of silver. While a ten-year age gap between two consenting adults was hardly an insurmountable obstacle to a happy relationship, a part of him couldn’t help but think that (Y/N) would be happier with someone younger than him. Both Alex and Hank thought that he was overthinking the situation, and perhaps they were right but whenever he started to consider asking her out, that little voice of doubt whispered on in the back of his mind.

“Hi Charles!”

Looking up, Charles’ face reflexively broke out into a grin when he saw (Y/N) approaching the bench he’d parked his wheelchair beside. “Hello, (Y/N)! Holding your classes outside today, I see?”

“It’s such a beautiful day, so you could hardly blame me for taking full advantage of it.” The professor adjusted the strap of her messenger bag and tilted her head as a teasing smile played across her cherry-red lips. “Enjoying your lunch outside today, I see?”

“Touché, Professor,” Charles chuckled, slipping his bookmark into his novel to mark his place and tucking it into his wheelchair’s saddle pack. “Hank seems to believe that my vitamin D levels are too low, so I decided that eating outside was the quickest way to get our resident worrywart off of my back. Not only did I soak up plenty of sun, I had the added pleasure of listening in on your fantastic lesson on Shakespeare’s King Lear; no offense to the Bard, but it’s refreshing to see an Classical Literature professor teach her students about one of his historical plays instead of one of his romances.”

(Y/N) shrugged nonchalantly, but the way she began to fiddle with her pendant revealed the bashfulness she was attempting to mask. “Well, I remember what it was like being fourteen; you’re around the same age as Romeo and Juliet, yes, but you don’t know a damn thing about love and it’s not easy to understand why they do the things they do.”

“As a former fourteen-year-old, I heartily concur. At that age, I could scarcely understand myself let alone an emotion as complex as love, no matter how beautifully Shakespeare described it,” Charles replied, looking out across the manicured grounds as he recited, “‘My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep-’”

“‘-The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite,’” (Y/N) finished and when their eyes met, Charles’ heart fluttered and he could feel his face beginning to warm; his brows rose in surprise when the professor hastily turned her head to try and hide her besotted smile, a flicker of hope igniting within him at the sight. “I, um, I-I should go and find Molly…”

“She’s at the playground with Alex’s second graders. Speaking of which, I need to speak with Alex about tomorrow’s scheduled book delivery…” Charles awkwardly cleared his throat before giving (Y/N) a tentative smile. “Would you allow me to escort you there?”

(Y/N)’s own smile widened at that. “Of course!”

While Charles wheeled himself along the stone pathway and (Y/N) kept in step with him, they eagerly discussed the school’s ongoing library expansion and all the new books they’d obtained for the students; any progress made at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters filled him with a sense of accomplishment, but expanding his ancestral home’s library was one of his greatest desires and he was thrilled that the children would soon have access to more knowledge than many of the country’s best private schools and universities. (Y/N) was just as excited about the expansion as he was, and he couldn’t help but admire the enthusiasm written across her beautiful features while he listened to her talk about all the lesson plans she’d brainstormed involving their new books.

They reached the playground sooner than Charles would’ve preferred, but his disappointment was set aside by the sight and sound of his school’s youngest students happily entertaining themselves on the elaborate structure; so many of them came from broken homes and were sent away without any second thoughts by families that couldn’t care less about them and while Charles couldn’t change their heartbreaking pasts, he did all in his power to give each and every one of his students a loving home and bright, promising futures. For the first time, I find myself truly understanding the blinding rage that fills Erik in regards to mutant rights, he thought with an inward grimace before glancing over at (Y/N) and smiling as the human woman affectionately watched her mutant daughter play, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve lost my faith in humanity’s innate goodness.

“Hi Mommy!” Molly exclaimed from the top of the structure, a toothy grin stretching across her face as she gave them both an enthusiastic wave. “Hi Professor ‘Zavier!”

“Hi Molly-Bear!” (Y/N) called back while a beaming Charles returned the little girl’s wave with one of his own. He’d always maintained that a good professor shouldn’t have favorites, but no one would blame him if he came out and admitted that Molly (Y/L/N) was – hands down – his favorite student; she was as exuberant and carefree as any human six year old, but her mutant abilities as a psychometric telepath meant that she was more insightful and tended to see the world around her with sage eyes. In truth, Molly reminded him so much of himself when he was a child and knowing first-hand how challenging having telepathic abilities at that age can be, he was grateful that he could help her by teaching her how to control and accept her gifts.

While Charles scanned the playground for Alex, he caught (Y/N) looking over at him and the tender expression on her face nearly took his breath away; she quickly looked away and pretended to adjust the fasteners of her messenger bag, but not before Charles noticed the glimmer of affection in her gorgeous (Y/E/C) eyes. A familiar whistle cut through his racing thoughts and when he glanced over, he spotted Alex leaning against a light pole that bordered the playground; a knowing smirk curved across the younger man’s face, widening as he brought a hand up to his temple and wiggled his fingers to signal for Charles to read his mind.

“I told you so.”

“Alex…”

“(Y/N)’s into you, Charles, and you’re clearly into her. So, what’re you gonna do about it?”

After taking a steadying breath and running an anxious hand through his hair, Charles cleared his suddenly dry throat and hesitantly spoke. “(Y/N)?” The professor looked over at him expectantly and his finger drifted upwards to loosen his shirt’s collar while he clumsily continued. “I, ah…well, I-I was wondering if I…(Y/N), would you and Molly care to join me for dinner sometime? There’s a wonderful Italian restaurant in Salem Center and a little movie theater just down the street from it that I think you’ll enjoy…”

(Y/N) blinked, looking dumbfounded but slightly hopeful as she took a moment to find her voice. “Charles, are you asking me out on a date?”

Charles nodded and offered her the barest of smiles. “Over the past few months, I’ve grown…immensely fond of you; I wake up every morning looking forward to our usual discussions over breakfast, I find myself spending far too much time styling my hair and picking out what to wear in the hopes that you’ll take note and every time you smile at me, my heart skips a beat.” The professor shyly smiled at that and he couldn’t help but lightly chuckle, the weight in his chest already feeling lighter with each confession he uttered. “Yes, just like that.”

“And you…you wouldn’t mind Molly coming along?”

The anxiety that filled (Y/N)’s eyes as she awaited his answer nearly shattered Charles’ heart; based on what little she’d disclosed to him about her past, he knew that she’s struggled with dating as a single mother and he could only imagine how disillusioned with romance she’d become as a result. “Of course not, (Y/N),” He softly replied and in a bold move, he reached forward and took her hand in his. “You two are a team, after all; Molly is your entire world, and I want you to know that I respect that more than anything. It’s also…well, let’s just say that it’s been quite a while since I’ve gone on a date, and I’d…”

“Like to go slow?” (Y/N) gently offered and when Charles wordlessly nodded, she gave him the smallest of smiles before looking over her shoulder and calling out, “Molly? Sweetheart, can you come here for a second, please?” After coming down the slide, Molly skipped over to them and the professor knelt down so that they were eye-level, her hand still holding onto his. “Professor Xavier wanted to know if he could take us out for dinner and a movie. Does that sound all right to you, Molly-Bear?”

The little girl’s head tilted to the side as her (Y/E/C) eyes studied Charles, and he was forced to mask his amused chuckle with a cough when she brought a mitten-clad hand up to her mother’s ear. “Like on a date?” Molly loudly whispered, and (Y/N) pursed her lips to keep from chuckling as she nodded; her daughter lowered her hand to reveal her excited smile and she gave her mother an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Sounds good to me!” Molly looked back at Charles with a conspiratorial giggle. “Mommy likes you, Professor ‘Zavier.”

Charles arched a playful brow as his eyes flicked between the embarrassed elder (Y/L/N) and the beaming younger (Y/L/N). “She does, does she?”

“Mm-hmm, she likes your eyes and your smile and your hair and your-”

“Okay, young lady, that’s enough out of you,” (Y/N) hastily interrupted, tickling her daughter’s neck with both hands and smiling when she shrieked with laughter and scurried back to the playground. Shaking her head in fond exasperation, she stood and glanced back at Charles, who was trying and failing to muffle his laughter. “Well, I guess that settles it. Does six o’clock this Friday work for you?”

He emphatically nodded. “Yes, of course, it’s perfect!” He felt himself begin to blush at his obvious enthusiasm, and it was (Y/N)’s turn to chuckle as he awkwardly cleared his throat and tried again. “…I-I mean, Friday at six o’clock works for me.”

“Good. I guess that Molly and I will see you then.” The professor turned to walk away but took Charles by surprise when she turned back around and bashfully smiled at him. “I’ve…I’ve grown immensely fond of you too, Charles.”

Before he could say or do anything, she’d bent down and pressed a feather-light kiss onto his cheek, an infatuated gleam in her (Y/E/C) eyes as she flashed him one last smile and left to meet her daughter on the playground. A broad grin slowly spread across Charles’ face and while he watched her walk away, he leaned an elbow onto his wheelchair’s armrest and rested the side of his head against his palm, releasing a love-struck sigh and barely taking note of the familiar figure that moved to stand beside him.

“See what happens when you actually take my advice?”

Charles straightened his posture and glanced over at Alex, who was wearing the smuggest of smiles on his faces as he stared back at him. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re an impertinent ass, Alex Summers?”

Alex’s smirk widened. “Heard it all my life. So, when’s the big date?”

“This Friday at six o’clock. And since you and Hank have taken such a keen interest in my love life, I’ll be requiring your assistance on Friday.” The younger man quickly sobered and with a grin of his own, Charles chuckled and patted his arm. “There’s a good chap. Now, about tomorrow’s book delivery…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Although it was a far cry from the hazy evenings spent at Oxford’s many lively pubs and in the company of the college’s most flirtatious female students, Charles’ date with (Y/N) and Molly was undoubtedly the most enjoyable one he’d ever been on. He’d met the mother and daughter in the mansion’s foyer with two bouquets in his hands – daisies for Molly and vibrant pink roses for (Y/N) – and he happily watched them admire their flowers while simultaneously hiding the fact that he was studying (Y/N)’s figure; the professor was wearing a knee-length yellow dress with long billowing sleeves, a bright pink sash tied around her waist and matching high heels, and her carefully styled hair was pulled back by a pink headband. She was beautiful, far too beautiful to be going out with the likes of him, but his fears of inadequacy were quickly alleviated when she looked over at him and smiled.

Hank and Alex drove the three of them to Salem Center in Charles’ maroon 1959 Jaguar Mark IX, the pair of them opting to stay in town and catch a showing of the newly-released The Empire Strikes Back while they dined at La Mensa. Sensing Molly’s apprehension with being around so many non-mutant strangers, Charles distracted her by playing ‘tic-tac-toe’ and ‘hangman’ with her on her paper place-mat and (Y/N) threw him a grateful look as she asked her daughter about her schoolwork; while they enjoyed their food, (Y/N) entertained them with stories of her students’ antics and after some goading by Molly, she even balanced a spoon on the end of her nose much to her daughter and Charles’ delight. After dinner, they made their way down the street to the small movie theater and while many of its patrons were queued up to watch the latest Star Wars film, the three of them decided on watching the re-release of Disney’s Lady and the Tramp; Molly adored the classic cartoon and while Charles was impartial to the film, he thoroughly enjoyed exchanging enamored glances with (Y/N) over the little girl’s head.

Molly fell asleep on the drive home, cuddling against her mother’s side as she lovingly brushed her fingers through her daughter’s (Y/H/C) hair. In low whispers, (Y/N) assured Charles that Molly had a wonderful time and that she hadn’t seen the little girl so happy since before she’d come into her mutation; although aware that Hank and Alex were clearly eavesdropping from their front seats, Charles quietly asked her if she’d care for a quick nightcap in his study after putting Molly to bed, and he was thrilled when she readily accepted his invitation. When they arrived back at the mansion, (Y/N) carried the still-sleeping Molly inside, but not before giving Charles one last smile as he maneuvered into his outside wheelchair.

“So…” Hank arched a curious brow as he walked beside Charles’ wheelchair and steadied it when they reached the top of the ramp, where Alex was waiting with his motorized indoor wheelchair. “How was it?”

“Charming, but I could’ve done without the rather offensive Asian and Italian stereotypes-”

“Not the movie, Charles, the date,” Alex interrupted and when Charles chuckled in amusement at his friends, he leaned a shoulder against the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest. “C’mon, you finally ask out the woman you’ve been head over heels for and you’re not gonna give your two best friends the four-one-one?”

Shaking his head in faux exasperation, Charles shifted himself into his motorized wheelchair and arranged his legs as he airily answered, “(Y/N), Molly and I ate a truly magnificent meal at La Mensa that we followed up by watching a classic Disney film at the movie theater. What more is there to say?”

Alex heaved a sigh but moved to allow Charles to wheel himself into the mansion. “A little help here, Hank?”

“Oh, he’s having far too much fun messing with us to stop.” The scientist tucked his hands into his jacket pockets while a mischievous smirk played on his lips. “But speaking as the school’s resident genius, I couldn’t help but notice the good professor clearly checking (Y/N) out before we left and blushing when she smiled at him just now.”

A reluctant blush warmed Charles’ cheeks at that. “Don’t you two perverts have morning classes to prepare for?”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday, lover boy,” Alex smugly countered, nudging Hank’s arm with his elbow as they walked beside Charles’ wheelchair down the vacant hall to his study. “Well, Beast, there’s no doubt about it: Charles here’s got it bad for our lovely Professor (Y/L/N).”

When they reached his study’s door, Charles nudged it open and wheeled himself inside, but not before giving both men a look of genuine sincerity. “Thank you, for your assistance tonight and for your encouragement; the pair of you can occasionally be a pain in the ass, but tonight couldn’t have happened without you.”

Hank’s smile softened. “You’re welcome, Charles. We’re just happy that we succeeded in making you do something selfish for once.”

“Yeah, you’ve helped us both out so much over the years and it was high-time we returned the favor,” Alex added as he clapped Charles on the shoulder, his earnest expression morphing into a knowing smirk while he continued. “Enjoy your nightcap with (Y/N), and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, lover boy.”

“Oh, and don’t forget protection!”

“Goodnight, gentlemen.”

Chuckling, Alex and Hank left the study and closed the door behind them; after pausing for a moment to take a calming breath, Charles wheeled himself over to the oak cabinet near his cluttered desk and unlocked it, pulling out a glass decanter of scotch and two glasses and setting them down on the coffee table. He bit his lip as his eyes surveyed the messy state of his study, cursing himself for not tidying up earlier, but a part of him knew that (Y/N) wasn’t the type to mind a little clutter; she liked to joke that the best professors had the messiest studies because they spent all their time teaching instead of worrying about how others perceive them. It was the good manners instilled in him from birth that saw him gathering stacks of loose papers, binders and leather-bound books and unceremoniously shoving them behind his desk before lifting himself out of his wheelchair to sit on the couch; with nothing else to distract himself from the anxious anticipation building up within him, Charles plucked the maple-colored queen off the chessboard and nimbly twirled it around his fingers as he waited for (Y/N).

Minutes later, there was a quiet knock on the door of his study and after scrambling to straighten up his chessboard, Charles called out, “Come in!” The door opened and (Y/N) stepped into the room, her gentle smile widening when she spotted him seated on the couch. “How’s Molly?”

“Out like a light.” (Y/N) crossed the room and sat on the couch beside him, her fingers playing with the flowing yellow material of her dress’ skirt as Charles poured their drinks. “She wanted me to tell you that she had a really fun time tonight, and she wanted me to thank you.”

“She’s been working so hard these past few months to complete her schoolwork and training, so if anyone deserves to have a little fun it’s undoubtedly her,” Charles replied, a surge of fondness for his youngest student and her kindheartedness bringing a smile to her face as he turned to (Y/N) and offered her a glass of the amber-colored liquid. “As do you, Professor.”

Accepting the glass, (Y/N) hummed thoughtfully before holding it up and angling it towards him. “In that case…to having fun.”

“To having fun,” Charles repeated, lightly clinking his glass of scotch against hers and taking a sip, his eyes appreciatively roaming along the professor’s figure while she took a sip of the strong liquor. “Do you like it? It’s top shelf scotch whiskey, all the way from Scotland.”

(Y/N) arched a playful brow as she crossed her leg over her knee and angled herself to face him. “Expensive, imported liquor? Are you trying to impress me, Professor?”

“Well, that all depends…” Following his instincts, Charles set his glass down and rested his elbow on the couch’s back cushion, his lips curving into a playful grin. “Is it working?”

Her (Y/E/C) eyes softened and after setting her own glass down, she rested one of her hands on his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Charles, I was impressed by you before the top shelf scotch, before the fancy Italian restaurant, and before I ever laid eyes on this beautiful mansion.” His brow furrowed in confusion but she merely smiled and rubbed small circles along his knuckles with her thumb. “Eight months ago, the letter that I sent you asking for help with Molly was my Hail Mary; I had nowhere to go and no way to protect my daughter from the people who hated her for who she was, so I decided to write to the one person I knew could help her. And when you sent me a letter back – that incredibly kind and empathetic letter – you gave me hope, hope that I hadn’t felt in so long. So, you see? You managed to impress me before we’d even met, Charles Xavier.”

Charles, touched by her sincerity and feeling a little emotional, reached forward with his free hand and carefully cradled her warm cheek in his palm. “Oh, my darling (Y/N)…you’re not the only one who’s had their hope restored; I gave up any hope for romance not long after I lost my legs, choosing to focus my attention on the school and my fellow mutants. Over these past several months, however, you helped me to see that there was still hope.” His thumb traced along her cheekbone as he smiled and slowly began to lean in. “And now, I would very much like to kiss you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

(Y/N)’s smile widened. “I’d like that very much as well, I just…” He could feel her cheek flush beneath his touch, and a look of embarrassment flashed across her face. “God, it’s been so long since I’ve done anything like this. Would it be silly to say that I’ve got butterflies in my stomach?”

“Not at all, darling. Truth be told, I’m a little nervous myself,” Charles murmured, his eyes flicking away from hers to stare at her enticing lips before glancing back up. “The last time I kissed a woman was in 1962, so you’ll have to forgive me if my technique has gotten slightly rusty over the past eighteen years.”

“Well, we won’t know unless we give it a go, will we?” (Y/N) breathed and her (Y/E/C) eyes burned with desire as they both inched closer. “Charles, dear…please kiss me.”

Wanting nothing more than to please the professor, Charles’ eyes fluttered closed as he tentatively brushed his lips against hers. (Y/N) wasted no time in returning the kiss, kissing him softly and sweetly as her hand left his to rest on the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair and eliciting a blissful groan from him; with one hand still cupping her cheek, he rested the other on her waist but soon found himself winding his arm around her in an effort to bring her closer. (Y/N)’s lips were soft and oh so addictive, slowly but firmly caressing against his as her fingers carded through his locks, and Charles surrendered himself over to the woman wrapped in his embrace.

Eventually, they were forced to separate for some much-needed air, the both of them out of breath and almost dizzy from their impromptu make-out session; Charles felt a surge of pride as he took in (Y/N)’s kiss-swollen lips, heaving chest and the dazed smile on her face, and he couldn’t resist leaning forward to lightly rub his nose against hers. When he pulled back, he huffed out a breathless chuckle at the incredulous look that she was giving him. “That’s a rusty technique?”

“Mm-hmm. Dreadful, wasn’t it?”

(Y/N) giggled at his joking question and pretended to consider it. “You know, I think I need another example before I can definitively say.” They both laughed but when Charles moved in for another kiss, a sharp twinge in his lower back caused him to recoil with a hiss of pain. “Charles, are you okay?!”

He mutely nodded, his eyes squeezed shut as he straightened his posture and leaned his back against the plush couch cushions. “I’m fine, it’s just a muscle spasm.”

“Is it…?” (Y/N) trailed off and when Charles finally opened his eyes as the pain began to fade, he could see the worry written across her face. “Is it because of your spinal cord injury?”

“That, and I’m afraid that I’m getting on in years; I’m not as young and spritely as I was in 1962.” Instead of stammering out a string of apologies and getting up to leave as Charles feared she would, the corner of (Y/N)’s lips curved upwards into a lopsided grin that left him slightly confused. “(Y/N)?”

The professor shifted closer to him. “Did you know that Molly’s father was fourteen years older than me?” Charles’ brow rose in surprise and he silently shook his head, watching as she reached over and brushed a lock of hair behind his ear. “You could say that I’ve always had a thing for older men…” Before he could think of something witty to say, (Y/N) swung her leg over his to straddle his lap and rested her hands on either side of his face; Charles couldn’t help but grin and, inspired by her delectable boldness, he placed his hands on her waist to hold her securely to him, his grin widening as her breath hitched. “Go ahead and read my mind if you don’t believe me, but it’s true.”

Shaking his head, Charles rested his head on the back of the couch so that he was staring up at her, softly smiling as one of his hands traveled upwards to cradle her cheek. “I believe you, darling. Would it be too sappy to say that I don’t want this night to end?”

“Not at all, dear,” (Y/N) shook her head before closing the distance between them and captured his lips in another passionate kiss; when they finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against his and returned his blissful smile with one of her own. “We can make this work, can’t we? Balance the two of us with running the school and raising Molly?”

“I believe that you and I can do just about anything, so long as we’re together,” Charles replied, his thumb and forefinger moving to guide her chin forward and pouring all his emotions into another kiss; there was no place on Earth he’d rather be than in the arms of the lovely Classical Literature professor who’d captured his heart and judging by the way she kissed him back, it was clear that she was thinking something along the same lines.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I had so much fun dipping my toes back into the Fox X-Men Universe (I still have a massive thing for 80's Charles Xavier and his flowing brown hair lol) and I loved that I finally resolved Charles and (Y/N)'s mutual attraction with this cute Part II! I may or may not have a few ideas for a possible Part III, so let me know if you'd be interested in reading more! Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying!

Story Tag List: @mostlymarvelgirl @holb32 @f1uveryysblog Marvel Tag List: @brooke0297​​​​ @deadlymistletoe Permanent Tag List:​ @momc95​​​​ @crowleysqueenofhell​​​ @groovy-lady​ @yasmin12312

[antisisyphus]

as a non american i have to ask what american cultural food is there.. i cant think of anything

there is creole cuisine of the usamerican south that is a blend of indigenous, west african, french, and spanish food (side note creole cuisine is not a monolith, there is creole food basically everywhere that was colonized & had a large population of enslaved people)

there is also cajun, which is specifically from the southern state louisiana, it has a lot of similarities to creole cuisine as it is influenced by the acadian french, west african people, and the spanish (ppl often use creole and cajun terms interchangeably but they are distinct)

the food of hawai'i which started as indigenous food of the islands and the goods that was traded within the polynisian triangle, but because of colonization has influences from the US military (spam being a notable case of this), portugal, japan, and china

there is south western cuisine (and the many subtypes) that blends indigenous (pueblo, O'odham, and more) colonial spanish, and mormon foods! this food was shaped by the jobs the people of this area held - lots of influence from cowboys/vaqueros and ranch workers. each southern state has a specific twist!

soul food is based on what enslaved people cooked for themselves, actually a lot of cultural knowledge was passed down & preserved in soul food! lots of southern dishes are based on, inspired by, or straight up stolen from soul cuisine. during the 60s soul food restaurants were important places for organizing! there are also several different styles of bbq

midwestern cuisine is based on various european foods (mainly eastern europen but not solely) and also the agriculture of the area (lots of wheat & pork).

since ~1850 there has been chinese american cuisine! fortune cookies, crab rangoon, general tsos chicken and beef & broccoli are all chinese american.

italian american food uses more cheese & milk than italian food. there are also differences in how we serve pizza

the hot dog is a classic american food! in germany frankfurters weren't served on buns. again most major cities of the us have their own style of hot dog.

other american foods are cheese stake, clam chowder, many fruit pies, milkshakes and rootbeer are all usamerican

potatoes, corn, squash, tomatoes, maple syrup, cashew, pecan, peanut, sweet potato, avacado, chocolate, allspice, chili peppers, lima beans, and vanilla are all foods that are from the americas and are NOT native to europe.

no vodka, no goulash, no christmas turkey roast, no cassoulet, no gazpacho, no cashew korma, no shakshouka, no bruschetta, no gnocchi, no aloo gobi, no colcannon, no latkes, no polenta...

[ocelot-t]

Could you share some insights of them? How their story goes, how their relationship is like, headcanons of them, etc. I love your AU so much and I'd like to know more!

I'm glad you love it🥹

well um

I won’t go into too much detail (yet)

Rosie comes from a wealthy artistic family. She followed in her dad's footsteps and went to the Academy of Arts. Despite her efforts, she frequently felt overshadowed by her father's success.

Alastor was mixed-race Creole. His father quickly left the family due to social pressure, but he visited the family from time to time. As a child, Alastor took up drawing after discovering hidden portraits of his mother, painted by one of her former closest friends, who happened to be an academy teacher. This friend then assisted Alastor in entering the academy, defending him from criticisms and attacks within the institution.

Alastor died from his father's bullet, because after Rosie's death he completely lost his vigilance.

Their relationship is very complex from the beginning because they initially met only to use each other for their own goals. They never expected that things would go wrong and they would develop feelings for each other. I ship radiorose so their relationship is romantic. Quite painful and destructive for both of them in the end. I don’t think serial killers will have a healthy relationship. Although I wouldn’t call them 100% terrible.

 

Rosie killed for inspiration, hoping it would help her creative process. However, this action only made her condition worse. On the other hand, Alastor took lives as a means to gain control and release his emotions. Through his art, he expressed these feelings allegorically. In the end, this path led them both into the abyss, and neither achieved the results they had hoped for.

Husk also knew about their secret "activities", but he kept quiet because Al had incriminating information on him.

Rosie was the better artist between the two due to her dedication and hard work. Alastor has a natural talent, but he doesn't work as hard as she does and often skips classes.

Not sure if I'm keeping the 'killer artists' name for this au. I'm thinking of renaming it 'decay' from now on.

and here’s some sketches from telegram

You can ask more questions if you're interested

[bixels]

Do you ever plan on including Discord in the Grand Galloping 20s AU? (sorry im a big fan of discord lol)

Designing him now.

Actually, I should talk about him for a bit because there are some design considerations I wanna voice beforehand.

I'm taking inspiration from famous black performers and artists of the early 1900s such as Cab Calloway and Dr. Facilier from Princess and the Frog (because it's just too good not to). As such, I'm ditching his British accent and making Discord Louisiana Creole. Rather than a draconequus, he'll be a "demon" (The male variant of the witch species of magical beings. Like witches, demons are neither good nor bad in nature.).

(This particular costume of Discord's that he wears to a 1920s jazz club in the show was chief inspiration for this design direction.)

While I'm excited to tinker with this idea, I'm gonna have to be very mindful not to call upon imagery of minstrelsy and blackface performances (especially since this is set in the 20s). Given how exaggerated and comical Discord is, it would be easy to fall into that trap.

Just some things to look out for for myself. Let me know what you think.

[leebee287]

i’m really interested in the etymologies of the names of the LiB but i haven’t been able to find out much about them 🥲

here’s what i can work out (feel free to correct me or help me out in the comments/reblogs if there’s something i’m wrong about/ am missing):

-Bliklotep sounds like it’s inspired from Ancient Egyptian naming conventions, with the ‘-otep’ suffix being similar to the ‘-hotep’ suffix commonly used in the names of pharos

-T’noy Karaxis sounds like it might have some greek influence? i ran ‘tnoy karaxis’ through google translate and it was detected as greek, with ‘karaxis’ apparently meaning ‘engraving’ but it detected ‘tnoy’ as russian but didn’t translate it (EDIT: @miserablesquama in the reblogs verified that as usual, google translate cannot be trusted. neither ‘tnoy’ or ‘t’noy’ are russian at all so it’s more likely of greek origin) -_-

-Pokotho sounds kind of latin-esque, with the name ‘otho’ apparently being roman in origin, although another source said it is of germanic origin so idk…? i ran ‘pokotho’ through google translate as well and got ‘pocket’ in southern sotho, but ‘poko’ returned ‘not yet’ in haitian creole. if i had to bet on any, i’d say his name can probably be assigned to either western europe with the latin influences, or south africa with southern sotho having the closest translation

-Nibblenephim is probably quite obviously influenced by the naming conventions of the ‘biblically accurate’ angels (cherubim, seraphim, ophanim etc) probably grounding his name’s inspirations in the middle east

-I have no clue what is going on with Wiggog Y’Rath tbh help lol EDIT: @gavotte-paradisio and @fangirlynjunk (thank u sm) both pointed out in the reblogs that it is likely a reference to the naming conventions common for hp lovecraft’s eldrich horrors which wiggly is a clear reference to

if anyone sees this and knows stuff about this i don’t please help me fill in the gaps.

EDIT: quick disclaimer, i’m taking the google translate results with a hefty grain of salt obviously and you should too