#my papa had an afro

[your-greatest-queen]

"Wow, I love the afro!!" a 15 yr old white girl says to me after I've curled my 1B hair to 2B. Glad you like it. Not an afro tho. "It's an afro," she says. It's really not. "It is," she insists, and continues on her way. Okay

[trashyswitch]

Luigi's Secret

Chapter 20: Old Childhood Memories

Mario and Luigi pull up to their parents house, and end up spending lots of time reminiscing about the childhood memories and precious moments they had as a family...and Luigi reunites with a long-time friend from his toddler years.

On Wednesday after work, Mario and Luigi drove up to their parents’ house in their usual van. They got out of the car, locked the van, and started to walk up to the door. “So you’re telling me…that there are designated flags for the tickle community?” Mario asked. 

Luigi smiled and nodded his head. “Yup. 3 flags. The first one is the ticklee flag, which has dark blue and light blue stripes, with a yellow stripe in the middle.” Luigi explained, pulling it up on his phone and showing him. 

Hearing someone coming to the door, Mario quickly locked Luigi’s screen and smiled right as the door opened. 

“My ragazzi speciali!” She reacted, opening her arms happily.  

Mario and Luigi brought their mom into a big hug this time. “Hi Mamma.” Luigi told her. 

“Hi Mamma.” Mario said at the same time. 

“Awww, How are my special boys doing?” She scratched behind Luigi’s left ear, and tickled under the right side of Mario’s jawline, earning her a few giggles from both boys and a snort from Luigi. Mario gently removed his Mom’s fingers from his jawline. “Wehehe’re fihihine. Ihi’m fihine.” Mario told her. “How was your day?” Mario asked. 

She smiled and brought the boys into the house, before heading into the living room. “Dinner is hot and ready. But knowing Papa, it’ll be another 30 minutes.” She told them. 

“30 minutes?” Luigi asked, looking at his clock. 

[6:22pm] 

“Okay.” Luigi replied. “What’s…” Mario stopped his words and widened his eyes as he saw the family crowded around their Papa on the floor, who was looking at scrapbooks and photo albums.

“Mario! Luigi!” Their Papa reacted, waving for them to come over. “Remember these pictures?” Papa asked, pointing to the scrapbook. 

Mario and Luigi both looked at the scrapbook. 

While Luigi laughed and elbowed his brother teasily, Mario was visibly red in the face. “Oho…” Mario muttered, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. 

The picture was of Mario and Luigi in their bathtub, covered in bubbles. Mario had made a bubbly beard on himself, while Luigi had a pile of bubbles on his hair. 

Their Uncle Arthur was laughing and pointing to baby Luigi. “You gotta admit, he looks good in an afro.” Tony teased. 

Tony laughed and fluffed up Luigi’s hair. “Keep growing it out, and you might look a bit like me!” Arthur teased. 

The rest of the family laughed at this, while Luigi shook his head with a smile as he flattened his hair back down. Of course they’re whipping out the baby pictures. What else could they be doing on a night like this? 

Papa Mario flipped the page and chuckled when he saw they were birthday pictures. Little Mario was showing off his Tickle-Me-Elmo to the camera, while little Luigi was hugging a care bear stuffed animal that was roughly the same size as him. 

“Your Mamma kept telling me ‘If you’re going to buy noisy toys, make sure you can handle the sounds it makes before buying it’.” Papa told them. 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Only to get the boy a Tickle-Me-Elmo.” he muttered. 

“Well unlike you, I actually didn’t mind Elmo’s laughter.” Papa added. “Plus, seeing Mario doubling over, laughing his head off at the thing, made every moment worth it.” Papa added. 

Mario rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I still can’t believe I was in love with a toy like that…” Mario muttered. 

Papa guffawed. “In love with it?! You would’ve been happy MARRYING the thing!” Papa laughed. “I remember sometimes, Mario would go on an endless loop of clicking the button on its belly, and laughing his head off…to the point where Mario was just as red in the face as Elmo was! You couldn’t tell them apart!” Papa added. 

Mario groaned and covered his face with his hat. He was going red in the face just hearing his Dad recount those memories. “Daaaad…” Mario mumbled. 

“And then you’d look over and see Luigi giggling and laughing into his little hand while watching Mario lose his mind.” Papa added. 

Luigi looked down, smiling as a small blush showed up on his own face. “Yeah…” 

“What sorta things made Luigi really happy?” Mary asked. 

Papa chuckled and looked at Luigi before winking. 

Luigi tilted his head. “Uhhh…” 

“Back when Mario and Luigi were about 5 years old, Mario wanted to dress up as a knight in shining armor. But he insisted he needed a Princess to go along with the knight. So...he pleaded for Luigi to be his princess! And despite Mamma's worries about what the other kids would think, Luigi agreed to dress as Mario’s princess.” Papa explained. 

“Oh yeah! I remember that!” Arthur reacted. 

Tony gently nudged Luigi. “Luigi was the belle of the ball in that little white princess dress.” Tony teased. 

Mario looked down, feeling a sense of guilt. “The other kids were awful to you that day…” Mario remembered. “I couldn’t even save Luigi from the laughter and ridicule, even if I tried.” Mario looked up at Luigi. 

Luigi smiled a bit and gave his brother a side hug. “It was my choice to be the princess. And by that night, I grew really excited.” Luigi admitted. 

“Thankfully though, Princess Luigi wasn’t left to fend for herself. There was another super hero that got to be the princess’s savior:” He ran to his room and quickly got himself ready. 

Luigi widened his eyes and covered his mouth. “No…” Luigi mumbled, showing pure shock on his face. “There’s no way…” Luigi reacted as he looked at his Mamma. She giggled and nodded her head. “He’s kept the costume all these years.” She told him. 

Luigi looked over at the door as it swung open, revealing the most out-of-character, flamboyant costume the family had ever seen. Their Papa of all people…was dressed in a rainbow tutu with a white blanket cape around his neck. And to top the whole thing off…bright pink lipstick on his lips. 

Luigi gasped and bit his lip, trying to hold his breath as laughter quickly filled his lungs. Meanwhile Mario had guffawed, before doubling over and laughing like his life depended on it. Tony and Arthur had completely lost it, taking the time to make fun of him in between their laughter. Even Mamma was giggling and shaking her head with a big smile on her face. 

“I’m glad that my little entrance can amuse you boys, but I’m not here to impress anyone.” Their Papa said in a slightly higher-pitched, more sassy version of his voice. Luigi raised his eyebrows. Gosh, even the voice his Papa had put on for the character, was still top notch. 15 years later, and his Papa was still nailing the classic character. 

“S-Scintillio…Ihit’s-” Luigi started to say. 

“SCIHINTIHIHILLIO?! THAHAT’S THE GIHIRL’S NAHAHAME?!” Arthur shouted, falling onto the couch with more laughter. 

“Oh, don’t even get me started! It’s been FAR too long!” She reacted. “15 years?! That’s like-” She started to count on her fingers. “That’s like- 60 bottles of mascara!” She reacted. “And don’t even get me started on the lipsticks I bought in that time.” She added, pulling out a pink lipstick. “Oh! Speaking of lipsticks, I found this one recently! It’s called ‘electric orchid’!” She added, opening it up and testing it on her wrist. “Isn’t it pretty?” She asked. 

“Hey! That’s my lipstick!” Mamma reacted, pointing to the lipstick. 

“Nuh uh!” She held the lipstick away from Mamma. “It’s MY lipstick! We talked about this! Red is more your color! Pink is my color.” She told her proudly. 

Luigi wheezed and finally bursted out laughing. Seeing Scintillio all over again was awesome. But she had completely forgotten how flamboyantly sassy she is! And fighting over lipstick?! Luigi couldn’t hold it in anymore! He had to let it out! 

Mamma and Scintillio stopped talking, and looked over at Luigi. Mario had stopped laughing as well, just so he could hear his brother laugh so gleefully. Even Arthur and Tony lessened their laughter dramatically so Luigi’s laughter could take over the room more. It was beautiful, just hearing his laughter on display for all to hear and bear witness. 

Scintillio looked at herself, double checking herself. “What are you laughing at?” She asked, looking at the tutu. “Is there marker on my face?” She asked, wiping her face, and smearing her lipstick in the process. “Is there a wardrobe malfunction?” She asked, checking the back of the tutu. “Is my bra showing? Am I showing too much cleavage?!” She asked, covering up her chest as she suddenly began to panic. 

Luigi doubled over as his joyous laughter went up an octave. “OHOHO MY GOHOD! *snort* HAHAHAHA!” Luigi reacted, his laughter starting to fill with snorts. 

And just for a split second, Papa started to shine through the costume. This is exactly why he loved doing this…because he knew it never failed to cheer up Luigi. And 15 years later, it was STILL working! 

Luigi finally started to calm himself down. “Yohohou’re fihine! Ihi just missed you, Scintillio.” Luigi admitted. “A lot.” 

She looked up at Luigi with a smile on her face. “Aww…I missed you too, my little princess.” She told him, cupping his cheeks. “And remember what I always told you?” She added, booping his nose. 

Luigi giggled. “Yeheah. Anyone who laughs at a boy in a dress, is just jealous that the boy can rock a dress better than they can.” Luigi replied. 

Scintillio smiled and poked Luigi’s belly playfully a few times, earning some giggles and laughter from Luigi. Then, she took off the blanket and the tutu, before removing the lipstick with a damp kleenex. “When in doubt…Comically large tutu.” Papa told him in his normal voice, waving the tutu in the air. 

Luigi smiled and picked up the Tutu. “So…you never let go of her?” Luigi asked. 

“No way.” Papa replied, putting a hand on Luigi’s shoulder. “Scintillio never went away, Luigi. She’s been in my heart all this time.” Papa told him. “She will always be here. With and without the costume.” He added. 

Mario smirked. “So I guess this was why you became so eager to be my princess?” Mario asked. 

Luigi nodded his head. “Yeah.” Luigi replied. “And I never regretted it.” 

Mario smiled and poked Luigi’s side. “Coolest princess I know.” Mario teased. 

Luigi squeaked and giggled, holding out his hands in defense. “Dohon’t.” Luigi warned with a giggle. “Don’t what?” Mario asked innocently, poking his sides and belly. 

Luigi giggled and attempted to bat his hands away. But it was already proving to be a fruitless effort. “Dohohon’t tihickle mehehe!” Luigi reacted. 

“And what if I want to? What are you gonna do then?” Mario asked. 

Arthur and Tony elbowed each other and started cheering. “Tickle fight! Tickle fight! Tickle fight!” Tony and Arthur yelled at the same time. 

Mario wrapped his arms around Luigi’s middle, and pulled Luigi into a hug. But he did this for a legitimate reason…So he could talk to him privately. 

“You okay with this?” Mario whispered in his ear. 

Luigi smiled. “Yup. Go for it.” Luigi whispered back. 

Mario smirked and started skittering his fingers all over Luigi’s belly and sides while still in the hug. Luigi squeaked and hid his face in Mario’s shoulder, immediately growing embarrassed. 

Mario smirked and poked into Luigi’s belly button right away. “Remember the rules, Lu~” Mario teased. 

Luigi wheezed and dropped to his knees, holding his belly as he quickly fell to the ground. “Whahahat ruhuhules?!” Luigi reacted. 

“Tickle fight only stops if one of us says ‘Uncle’.” Mario told him.

“Oh! But if you say ‘Uncle’, then the tickler automatically wins.” Tony added. 

Mario rolled his eyes. “Fine. That too.” Mario replied. 

“Cahahan wehehe rehestahahart?!” Luigi asked. 

Papa raised an eyebrow. “Restart?! No! No one ever restarts tickle fights.” Papa reacted. 

Mario shrugged his shoulders. “He has a point.” Mario added. ��Just…do your best.” Mario told him before tickling up and down his ribs. 

Luigi squeaked and bursted out laughing before quickly trying to get the upper hand. He first tried skittering his fingers on Mario’s ribs. “Twohoho cahan plahahay thahat gahame!” Luigi told him. 

Mario yelped and covered up his ribs before trying to tickle Luigi one-handed. “Yohou think you can get me that easily? I can tickle you one-handed, and STILL drive you crazy!” Mario teased. 

Luigi grabbed his tickling hand and pulled him to the ground, before lifting up Mario’s left arm and tickling his exposed armpit. “Funny you say that, I can do the same thing!” Luigi reacted. 

Mario squealed and laughed helplessly, struggling to get free from Luigi’s rather genius positioning. Luigi was kneeling down on Mario’s upper left side, making it rather difficult for Mario to get the upper hand again without several cackles along the way. 

“Hey, not bad kid!” Tony reacted. 

Luigi smirked somewhat proudly and scooted himself over before tickling down the ribs to the bottom of his brother’s ribcage. This made Mario’s laughter go up an octave as he tried and failed to cover up his ribs, while tugging helplessly on his trapped arm. 

“WOOO! Go Luigi!” Arthur cheered. 

Mario took advantage of the scoot down and moved his stuck arm over a slight bit. When he reached the outer sides of Luigi’s knee, Mario squeezed it. This caused Luigi to jump and freeze in place, giving Mario the opportunity to get back up and fight for the upper hand. He got up onto his knees and grabbed Luigi’s hips, before squeezing them and drilling into them playfully. Luigi screeched and threw his head back as he wiggled absolutely all over the place while loud, cackly laughter left his mouth. Mario smiled brightly and rested his head on Luigi’s shaking shoulder. “How long can the princess survive?” Mario teased. 

“LOHOHONGER THAN YOHOHOU!” Luigi argued. 

Arthur smirked. “You tell ‘em, Luigi!” 

“Oh really~?” Mario reacted. 

“YEHEHEHESS!” Luigi yelled back, covering his mouth. 

Mario’s mouth grew a shit-eating grin as he poked his finger into Luigi’s belly button. “No covering your mouth, Elmo.” Mario teased. 

Luigi gasped and squeezed his eyes shut before wheezing and silently laughing. 

“M-Mario, be careful.” Mamma warned, growing slightly worried for his son. 

“I know.” Mario said back with a wink. “Ready?” Mario dipped his finger in slightly harder. “1…” 

Luigi shook his head rapidly. 

Mario spun the finger slightly. “2…” Mario said, twirling his finger around in his belly button. “3…” Mario declared as he removed his finger from his brother’s belly button. 

Luigi snorted and completely lost himself in loud fits of cackles. “UNCLE! UHUHUHUNCLE! UHUNCLEHAHAHAHAHAAA!” Luigi shouted. 

Mario chuckled and clicked his tongue, gesturing with his hand. “I’m not even touching his belly button anymore.” Mario said. “And he’s still dying.” He added. 

The rest of the family just laughed at Mario’s words as they heard Luigi slowly calming down. 

“That’s a funny coincidence.” Someone said nearby. 

Mario, Luigi, and the others turned to look at the rocking chair in the living room, which sat another person in their family: Their Grandfather. Aka, the oldest and wisest family member in the house. 

Mamma smirked. “What’s that?” She asked, tapping her father-in-law’s shoulder lightly. 

“Your Papa used to react the exact same way when he was little.” He started telling him. “He had such a ticklish navel, one poke would put him in his place in seconds.” Their Grandfather told the boys. 

Papa widened his eyes and looked at his father. “Hey!” He yelled, showing slight embarrassment. 

Their Grandfather laughed upon hearing his son’s reaction. “Yyyup.” He added. “A wonderful little gift he got from his madre.” Their Grandfather declared. “Tony got it too.” he added.

Tony raised his eyebrows, before looking at his father as well. “Don’t bring me into this!” Tony warned. 

“Well unlike you two, I was the lucky one~.” Uncle Arthur declared proudly. 

Mary smirked and poked his ribs, earning a jump and a yelp from her husband. “Ribs are the next best thing.” Mary teased. 

Arthur waved his index finger at her. “Don’t even try it.” He warned with a small smile. 

Mary shrugged her shoulders. “Okay.” She replied, winking at Mario and Luigi. 

Mario brought Luigi up to his feet before sitting down on the couch. “What other stories do you have from when Papa, Tony, and Arthur were little?” Mario asked. 

“Oh no…” Papa muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You just broke the dam right open.” 

“I would love to tell you, but I am starving. We should eat.” Their grandfather told him. 

The whole family all agreed to that statement right away. It was close to 7pm, and none of them had even started to eat their dinner! They all gathered around the table, and started to serve themselves. While they did that, Their grandfather started recalling many memories of the boys when they were babies, up to when they were kids. He even included some memories of when they were teenagers! And while poor Papa was red in the face from all the embarrassing memories, Tony and Arthur kept poking and teasing their older brother. And it was in this moment that Luigi and Mario realized something: Their family were funny, teasy, ticklish, weird goofballs too. All of them were! And this night only confirmed that fact! 

When Mario and Luigi got into the car, Mario made sure to send Luigi the video of their Papa getting utterly destroyed by their Uncles! Aka, Papa’s younger brothers. Knowing their Papa well, that video would be the only known evidence of Papa Mario getting his comeuppance. 

So I'm gonna be completely honest here...I was very hesitant about adding Scintillio into this story...The story was a late-night stupid joke I had come up with alongside a friend of mine (Legit forgot who helped me come up with this character), and I playfully added it to the story...I have a love-hate relationship with Scintillio, because it was a funny idea...but it was so out-of-character compared to Papa Mario. But...I added it anyway and reluctantly decided to keep it.

So...What do you think of Scintillio? Was it funny? Or was it a little too much? Let me know!

[diaryandthoughtssss]

Had the best dream. Gotta go get some stuff for breakfast tho.

*3days later*

Dream started off as GTA IV but real life. Fast Foward.

A child protection lady comes to our house in Inala. And asks if the young baby is mine *It's Keilani* and Mum is home too.

She says she's dropping her off but she's has to keep an eye on how I raise her.

Me and Keilani spend our days together as usual and the lady is happy. I'm happy. Keilani is happy. We're all happy.

Suddenly we're in the backyard. And Dad walks in from the side gate . I say hey too dad and he smiles and says "Hey son". And we hug.

Keilani comes from around the corner, except she's taller. And it looks like she's 7-8 years old now. And happily walks up to her papa and hugs him. Dad says "when did you get so big ☺️" it was such a happy moment in my dream. I still remember smiling and seeing keilanis afro pressed against his chest while he leant down to kiss the top of her afro. The dream fog didn't allow me to process it wasn't real. But then mum is to my left and puts her arm around me smiling too. And I asked her "Why isn't Dad cold" because a couple days before was when we visited Dad in the Morgue. And his skin was cold.

In the dream, Mum didn't reply, but that's when Lani and Peki arrived in a black 4wd parking under the light post, to which mum called out "O i Lani ma Peki " and that's when I turned around to see Greg and them were here too.

Suddenly, our family is sitting in the backyard, Lani is saying "Gosh mum 🙄" ciggy in hand. Peki is on the BBQ, Dad is sitting on the other side and happily talking to someone. Greg taps my shoulder from his seat one over from who's sitting next to me. "Uce there's beers in the Eski" I replied "oh yo shot uce" and make my way to the Eski.

I remember the peace, the happiness, the comfort, thre bliss, the feeling of having no problems, no grief, no sorrow, no worries, no heart ache. No suicidal thoughts. The feeling I haven't fealt since 2008-2011 when we would always have our family BBQs.

I bent down and grabbed a beer out the eski which was placed at the backyard gate on the driveway. And stood up to see everyone happily talking to eachother and all the feelings of peace were among me. Suddenly in my head I said

"Wait a minute"

My eyes shot open. And Dads empty hospital bed is laying there.

The feeling of happiness is replaced.

The return of grief arrives.

The pain awakes.

And reality sets in.

[wingedpie21]

Once again I appreciate OP bringing the inaccuracies with Sam's designs to light. After my initial post, I did some more digging to how many things I missed to talk about because I only watched TPATF twice when I was younger and I found an article describing all the inaccurate/inappropriate choices filmmakers did in The Princess and the Frog and....there's so much to unpacking here.

This brings be back to Sam's design in the JP TWST version. Considering how filmmakers were mixing other Afro cultures within Haitian vodou (Ex: using African masks to represent Haitian lwa), Sam's face paint was probably less inspired by the actual voodoo markings and moreso West African tribal face paint. Which would probably explain why his face paint was so out of place in a voodoo point of view because they're probably not even voodoo markings in the first place (unsurprising how there was little actual research done within the JP TWST team 🙄). NA Disney probably remembered the backlash they got for mixing cultures and took them out in local TWST to avoid controversy.

Alright so ive been seeing this going around, the lack of paint on Sam in ENG . I dont want to start shit though, im saying this as a disclaimer. And i want to say this as controversial as it may be: it was for the best probably.

Voodoo has a history of being portrayed as dark magic which is horrible. Voodoo is a religion not satanic not dark magic. It is as much of a religon as Islam, Christianity, Hinduism, Judaism, etc. Respect it. I like the bone paint too, it looked cool, but clearly its more cultural appropriation rather than appreciation on Sam (voodoo practicers if you can please tell me if ive said something wrong).

"Cancel culture" isnt just an "sjw" thing, its used to talk about problems. Saying "twst shouldve just stayed in jp" bc of the problematic aspect isnt good. We have to address problematic issues with culture and racism. Twst has racist aspects you cannot deny that. It doesnt mean you cant enjoy twst at all, but stay openminded and listen to minorities when they speak. Cultures arent "aesthetics" :/

[rabbit-head-007]

Honestly just give any of your headcanons related to Pepa and Felix being adorable and head over heels for each other, especially the fact that (according to the junior novel) Camillo can’t stand when they get lovey-dovey in front of him alsjdhag

I’ve got quite a few! Gonna add in some family headcanons regarding Dolores, Camilo, and Antonio too for the fun of it as well :)

-Pepa and Félix are definitely the sort of mushy lovey-dovey couple that drive people nuts sometimes

-I don’t think it’s just Camilo who gets sick of them being so saccharine with one another but the whole house too, and it doesn’t take long before even Casita starts pushing them along the tiles to somewhere out of sight to continue their romance in private

-they never left the honeymoon phase - it’s only gotten stronger over time

-And I think all that lovey-dovey-ness lead to Antonio being a ‘happy accident’ so to speak

-Félix, excited for their third child: Pepi! Can you believe it? :D

-Pepa, who just turned 40 and thought her child rearing days were behind her:

-Félix seems like the kind of person whose hardly phased by *anything,* and because of that I think he could handle scary stories and other horror genres very well

-Félix having a lovely time in a haunted house: Pepi, come look at this! They made this burning corpse look so realistic! :D

-Pepa: *unholy screaming*

-I think Camilo gets on his dad’s nerves the most because he’s such a little troublemaker (and sons just tend to annoy their dads more than their moms) and whenever he’s about to get in trouble he goes and acts especially sweet to his mom as a buffer

-Félix: Pepa, we need to talk about Camilo’s behavior

-Pepa, whose darling Angel son who could do no wrong just handed her a blanket and some tea five minutes ago: what do you mean? <:(

-Camilo and Antonio are probably just huge mama’s boys in general too, whereas Dolores is a papa’s girl

-Félix is definitely a Pun Dad and Dolores tells him all the lamest ones she’s heard from around town to drive the family nuts with

-Félix about to tell Pepa the same pun he’s told her every single time it’s foggy over the 25 consecutive years they’ve been married together: wow Pepa, sure seems like a *mist* opportunity, eh?

-Pepa:

-Sometimes when she knows he’ll be away for awhile, Pepa dabs some of Félix’s cologne on her wrists to keep a part of him close by

-Pepa’s got a nervous stomach so she doesn’t eat much (as evident by her plate being the most bare during the breakfast scene), whereas Félix likes to snack quite a bit between meals (it gives him good energy throughout the day) so he always grabs extra to share with her

-Matching outfits. Always. It was Félix’s idea. Color coded and everything.

-Félix was very elated when Antonio was born because he looked just like him. One day, to surprise Félix, Pepa dressed Antonio up just like him and even painted on a fake beard and mustache. Félix laughed so hard he curled in on himself and was left a wheezing ball on the floor

-When he got older Félix had to get reading glasses. Pepa finds them very handsome. She thinks the same of the grey streak in his Afro too

-They both took time to learn how to take care of each other’s hair, and usually set aside some time in the mornings to do just that

-I think in their own ways they were both very lonely people before they met each other, so once they became a part of each other’s lives they hardly left each other’s sides - wherever one goes, the other is close to follow

-And then finally, this one will be relevant to future chapters in “You Are my Sunshine”: Félix is an excellent swimmer but Pepa? Not so much. She knows the dog paddle and that’s it. So whenever the opportunity to go swimming comes up she won’t get too far in the water unless she knows Félix is going to be there too

Ok that’s everything for now, thank you for the ask! 🧡💛🌥💛🧡

[hvnlyuzuha]

ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING

fem child! reader

jujutsu kaisen x black child! reader

fluff, angst kinda if can even classify as angst, crack

summary: the first years have to babysit you and within two hours they lose you in sendai.

characters: fushiguro megumi, itadori yuji, kugisaki nobara, sukuna, and gojo satoru.

mentions of: nanami kento, principal yaga, ieiri shoko and the second years

continuation of gojo as a single dad!

warnings: none i think

notes: since y’all liked the first one i decided to make another.

not edited

the first years were a last resort

i am serious 😭

gojo desperately needed a babysitter and there was no one else cause nanami was on a mission as were the second years and shoko had traveled out of the country with yaga to deal with something

there is a good reasons why gojo won’t leave you alone with the second years

1. they were lowkey irresponsible 2. the last time they babysat you, you fell off a roof and almost died (megumi summoned nue to save you)

as i was saying they were a last resort and gojo was desperate so they were your babysitters for a day or two

it was the first day and since gojo left them three of his credit cards they decided to take you to your favorite cafe in sendai, kikusuian’s.

like father like daughter

sadly on the way to the cafe they lost you 🙂

They had officially done it. They lost the strongest person in the world daughter. Megumi was the first to notice mostly because you stopped pestering him to summon the divine dogs.

“Itadori! Where’s Y/N?” Megumi frantically looked around for your stark white afro.

“What do you mean? She’s righ-” Itadori looked down at his side in horror.

“You lost her?!” Megumi and Nobara screamed in unison, grabbing the attention of people passing by.

“It’s not my fault! We were all supposed to watch her.” Itadori reasoned as Megumi summoned his divine dog.

“Track Y/N.” The divine dog began to try and track your cursed energy but sadly one of the first techniques Gojo taught you was to mask your cursed energy for safety purposes. He also told you whenever you go out you should activate it and that’s exactly what you did.

“You can’t track her!” Nobara shouted. “Gojo taught her how to mask her cursed energy. We have to split up. Itadori, you go near the cafe. Megumi, you retrace our steps. I’ll go that way!” With that the trio took off in their respective directions. They were all unsuccessful and were also in a horrid state. Itadori fought a dog for his pant leg… the dog obviously won leaving Itadori with half of his pants ripped off. Someone spilled a soda all over Megumi making him sticky. And Nobara’s hair couldn’t take the insane heat and was insanely frizzy.

“You brats lost his kid! This is hilarious.” Sukuna laughed from Itadori’s hand.

“Gojo-sensei is gonna kill us! We lost his only daug-” Itadori’s rant ended short when Megumi covered his mouth to listen to the sound of giggles coming from an alleyway.

“Y/N?” Nobara called out but was only met with more giggles. In an instant, the first years took off in the direction of the giggles, entering a shady alleyway.

“How do we figure out where she is?” Itadori asked after the noises stopped.

Megumi let out a heavy sigh before doing something he hasn’t done since his junior high days when you were in your ‘hide and seek 25/7’ phase.

“I know I'm just a fool who's willing, to sit around and wait for you. But baby, can't you see there's nothing else for me to do? I'm hopelessly devoted to you.” Megumi sang looking away from his fellow classmates who were looking at him incredulously.

“But now there's nowhere to hide, since you pushed my love aside. I'm out of my head. Hopelessly devoted to you.” You sang back, causing the first years to sprint in you direction,

“N/N!” They cried in relief.

“Look who I found!” You held up a white fluff cat with piercing blue eyes. “It looks like Papa!”

“It does doesn’t!” Itadori smiled at your excitement,

“I named him Catoru! Can I please keep him?” You gave them the best puppy dog eyes you could muster on short notice, along with a blinding smile.

“Okay fine.”

“Yeah.”

“Of course!”

The first year all fell into your trap making you smile.

“Great! Let’s go to the cafe and get all the stuff we need for Catoru! Also, what happened to you guys?”

BONUS

“I’m back!” Gojo announced as he walked into the first years living area only for it to be empty. He ventured further through the dorms, hearing soft snoring.

“Hey-” Gojo cut himself off seeing all of them on the bed, fast asleep. He smiled to himself at the sight and took a few photos. Gojo was about to leave when he did a double take. There was a cat that looked like him, with glasses on and all, laying on the bed snuggled up with his daughter.

“What the fuck.”

[edmunderson]

Don't have my sketchbook w/ me, but i wanted to get the general look for my Warden (from @the-keeper-of-midnight ) and his family. Top two are his parents, bottom left is his older sister, Michelle (? I think? I can't remember her name), and then my warden, Theo (he's supposed to have blue/green heterochromia, but i couldn't find a picrew that had that option,,,,,)

Idk if there's a set family name (or if the parents already have names) but i'm going with Toussaint for now. Theo's parents are still in Port-au-Prince; Mama Toussaint is a university professor (haven't decided for which subject yet) and Papa Toussaint works from home as a consultant (again haven't decided what for yet, maybe tech)/was stay-at-home dad. Both were v supportive when Theo came out as a trans man.

Michelle and Theo are afro-carribean/white (papa is from Germany). I also can't remember if Michelle is married or a single mom, so I won't think of a spouse for her just yet. I was originally gonna have Theo romance K, but then, well... it's v hard to resist Mack lmao. I'll make another warden for K. Someday. When Mack and Theo move in together they get a maine coon cat named Death Metal Pete.

A couple of headcanons:

Theo wears one of Mack's hoodies on days when he has to go out but doesn't want to wear a binder. And wears them as PJs. Basically laundry day isn't the only day he likes to steal Mack's hoodies lmao

They both bond over their love of Elton John's music. Theo likes to play some music and cuddle up with Mack (mark my words, Theo will make this man into a cuddler before this series is over lol). Deeper into the relationship Theo will (lovingly) tease Mack by calling him sugar bear (can u guess which elton john song?) whenever Mack is being too grumpy.

Death Metal Pete likes to perch on/drape herself across Mack's shoulders. What can i say except she likes to feel tall?

Techincally Mack and Theo have their own bedrooms, but ended up just sharing Mack's room barely two weeks after moving into their apartment (Theo was too tired to go back to his room one night after a couple of very rigorous rounds 👀)

Idk if it'll ever happen, but Mack with stubble? Would absolutely make Theo weak 😩 (well,,, weaker than he already is for Mack lmao. simp 4 simp relationship.)

I know it's not an option in game, but Theo's favorite food is Chile Rellano (on his first visit his sister took him to a mexican restaurant and he's been in love with this dish ever since)

[kittehkwrites]

Streets

“No Final Fantasy can we end these games though? ” - Doja Cat, ‘Streets’ (2019)

Summary: Trevante finally decides to say something, revealing to you how he feels and it leads to something the both of you only thought could happen in your dreams.

Warnings: Fluff, angst?, smut

Can be read as a stand alone, or as a continuation to Like I Want You

No backing down now. He thought. 

I've been goin' through some things 

I struggle with my inner man 

“I have something that  I have to get off my chest.” He said. 

There was no hint of playfulness laced in his voice like usual. 

No this was serious and it made you shiver.

Trevante couldn’t help but still get nervous around you and it took everything in him to not kiss you again.

The feeling of your soft lips gently caressing his back in shock but with such fluid motion and the current running between you both was something you wouldn’t mind feeling again. 

Baby, we tried to fight it

We all been there some days

“ I like you. Ok? I’ve liked you since we started hanging out more and i got to know you more but

Thought I needed something else

And acted like I was okay

“But I always thought you weren’t interested in me like that cause you’d always call be your friend and yea there may have been a few times of playful flirtin but I figured that just how it’d be with us and i didnt want to say anything when you would talk to me about those assholes you’d go one dates with and clearly didn’t know how to treat you”

We just had to work it out

“If I knew this was how you’ve felt, or what you thought we could’ve saved us so much time and mindless pinding over the wrong people...”

You thought of all the times you went on those dead-end dates with guys that couldn’t hold a conversation to save their life or the ones that talked so much that it irritated you to no end and how you’d go to Tre and he’d be there. Waiting on you with open arms, hanging onto your every word and giving you advice.

That’s why you thought he didn’t feel the same. What man would be so selfless? 

You wanted to leave and try to move on in hopes of protecting yourself when really you were causing more problems and you could’ve potentially caused him to lose interest..

And baby, I needed space

“I’m sorry for trying to basically avoid you at every cha-” 

“It’s alright. I guess you wanted to protect yourself from disappoint like you’d normally be on the receiving end of, but i'm not them and I can definitely say that without a doubt, you’d be my queen and not second fiddle against the juvenile excuses some of those dicks told you back then.” He was right. He’d always treat you so nicely and you misread it as friendly behaviour when for him he didn’t want to run. He wanted to stay out of fear that someone would take you away or treat you in a way you didn’t deserve.

There was a bit of silence between the two of you.

You're pouring your heart out

“we are idiots aren't we?” You both laughed, breaking the silence and it made you both feel lighter knowing you’ve spoke your peace and to have the next person feel the same made you want to float above the clouds even more than you were now. 

“I guess we are, but it makes it interesting.” He said, softly in your direction.

His smile was gracing his face and it made you melt to know that he felt the same and to know that he was there even when you tried to leave, made you feel so dumb to keeping your mouth closed about how you felt and you were sure your friends knew but wanted to leave you both to doing what you were doing incase they were wrong. 

You held me so down

All those nights you’d go to him about those aint shit niggas that wasted your time...

So down I never grew

You didn’t see that as a sign of his attraction. Just as a sign of his friendly nature and you blamed it on your lack of healthy relationships before meeting this great man that you knew no one could compare to.

Yon knew that no one else could hold you down like he did.

I tried to find out

All those guys were nothing. 

They meant nothing like the man sitting next you did in your whole time of having feelings for him but you wanted to make sure that it wasn’t you that was self-sabotaging these short term talking stages or relationships, if you can even call them that.

When none of them came through

But it wasn’t you. You thought, as you looked at his structured face, glancing over every little feature from his eyebrows to the hairs in his beard. They just weren’t him and you knew that now. 

now I'm stuck in the middle

And baby had to pull me out Like you

That night brought on an onslaught of feelings and emotions but you both remained outside until your friends called it a night and he sobered up to drop you back to your place.

The ride was comfortably silent with fluttering glances and the soft music playing through the speakers made you feel safe and right about the future of this “friendship” between you two.

Like you

Over the next few days, you both facetimed, called, texted whatever way you could keep communication open, you both did it and it was like old times again, except you both knew the others feelings and it changed from “friendly” to him essentially courting you in a way you both hadn’t put an exact label on but you both knew it was exclusive and no one could break that apart.

After a few dates and some more group hangout, you both managed to agree on having a “sleepover”, but this time it wouldn’t be like normal ; no friends or interruptions, just the two of you and it made you nervous but excited for the days to hurry past.

The days indeed were passing quickly and you made sure to pack an extra set of clothes and some nice undergarments incase you got the chance to change into it, or you’d have another opportunity to wear it for him and you knew he’d appreciate it with the way he always compliments you and your body when given the chance and it made you even more sure that he was the one that was it for you as he didn’t comment on the weight but when you wouldn’t be noticeably be eating a lot around him because you were worried about your college work and submissions he’d subtly give you food during the shared study sessions you’d have with him and your other friends. Similarly, you’d make sure he was eating when he had finals or a sports event.

You guys felt that bonding and caring was leading towards the formation of something beautiful and stable.

When the day finally came, you told him you'd forget to mention the offsite visit you’d be taking to see an exhibit on african american and afro-caribbean art being held for the month

He was happy that you were happy. 

The way you were gushing about the work you’d see and how the artists all incorporated the ideas of the diaspora, feeling lost but building some form of unity in their situations brought chills to you and the other students that accompanied the tour. 

He loved seeing your pictures that you sent when you got there and when you got the chance, you’d take pictures with the artists and creators.

He knew you’d forget to text him when you reached back to the campus or if he’d need to come get you, to which you’d appreciate seeing as the others seemed to want to stay longer than you had hoped and others had already gone and you didn’t feel like getting in other people’s cars that you werent too close with. 

Could you come for me in the next hour?

You asked and saw the three dots before his text came through.

Send your location.

That was his text to you and you weren’t about to lie and say you didn’t feel the little “flutters” as you pictured him laid up and thinking about you like you were him.

Location sent.

This is it. You thought. 

No holding back. You convinced yourself, mentally as you continued moving around the exhibit to look at the other pieces you didn’t get the chance to yet when you guys were allowed to take a break as they were opening up some of the other areas for public viewing now

Closed mouths don’t get fed and you were hungry you argued as you saw his latest text that he was on his way, wondering where the time went but anticipating the activities you’d both get into.

You began to look around a few more times before making your way to the front of the building after saying your ‘bye’s, nice to meet you’s and see you later’s.

Leisurely walking to the front you stayed in the cool conditioned air of the building, awaiting the man that managed to continuously surprise you with his bold, straightforward nature.

Glad I brought my bag and waxed the other day so no worries about any fuzz being down there, if things went as you’d hope, you thought before opening the glass door seeing the next he was around the corner and then seeing him pull up to the front.

He pulled up to the front of the building as you made your way outside of the facility.

You watched as he got out of the 1973 Chevrolet Impala you would often watch him work on,

or he’d offer to take you in to go on those long drives that would make you think things once you saw him drive with one hand and his seat back.

Like you said, it made you think things.

He came over to you and walked you back in silence.

Damn papa, you a rare breed, no comparing

The cool air brushing over his exposed arms.

The wind carrying his scent that hit you as you slightly trailed behind him, before coming up to the car door and opening it for you while taking your bag and placing it in the back.

And it’s motherfuckin’ scary

He shut both doors and made his way round to the drivers side, getting in and buckling up himself before stealing a quick glance at you as you did the same.

“Ready.” The click of your seatbelt heard before your voice altered him.

He looked over at you, one hand on the gear stick, and the other on the wheel before racking his dark pupils over your shy-seated form. You saw as he but his plush bottom lip before his lips formed a smirk that made your thighs clench.

She better be ready. He thought as he knew that this shy act you had going on was only turning him on more and he wanted to hear that sweet voice of yours yell his name like he dreamed.

Y’all made it back to his and you were met with the warmness and enticing scents coming from within his space. 

“I made your favourite.” He watched you walk in slowly, eyeing you again before waking in the light trail of your perfume and body lotion that left you smelling like candy and he wanted to have his dessert now. 

You were so consumed with what he said and what he’d done that you hadn’t responded. He turned and looked to you as he made his way ahead when you stood frozen at what he had done for you when you thought no one would ever do such a thing. 

Tryna keep him 'cause I found him

“Princess?” There goes that nickname that had you shivering slightly and gave him a chance to openly gaze into your beautiful eyes with a look of confusion at your silence in regards to food.

“Huh? Oh! No! that’s great. I was starving.” You expressed and progressed to his smaller dining room, still shocked at the set up of your favourite laid out and you knew it wasn’t order either because you’ve watched this man cook and always taste tested so you knew you weren’t about to be dissapointed.

“I told you to stop starving yourself. You need me to start bringing you lunches again?” He cared. The fact that this fine, tall, dark and handsome man was willing to come to you and bring you lunch still was getting you all warm, along with the delicious food that was hitting the spot.

This man is bout to get it, you thought before sitting and enjoying the food he prepared.

Both sitting under the dimmed lights and intimate atmosphere he managed to create with what he had, intensified your emotions and the glasses of wine you had with dinner got you to loosen up. 

He didn’t want to force conversation. He was ok with just being in your presence and for that, you knew he was the one and you’d do anything to keep him happy and ‘Let a ho know I ain't motherfuckin' sharing’ (or whatever it is Doja Cat said.) You’d thought as he ushered you to his couch after collecting the plates and placing them in the sink before returning to you.

He saw you and couldn’t help but think about you being his. Like actually his.

I could take you to the parents, then to Paris

Plan a motherfuckin' wedding

Tonight i’m gonna make her mine and there’s no doubt about it. 

He sat so close and for a second, you felt those shocks you felt the night he first kissed you when your legs touched.

You couldn't help but look at him and see the burning desire he had in his eyes. It was the same for him, seeing your deep pools looking at him with adoration and contemptment that he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for your love, even though he could guess you loved him the way he did you. 

You the type I wanna marry (Yeah) and keep you merry

I'll put the ring on when you ready

There was a split second.

Then clothes began to drop around your retreating forms, leading to his room.

The kisses were hard and passion filled. Hands grasping body parts.

Hot skin against hot skin. 

The soft glow of the candle he’d lit in his room providing him with enough light to tell that you were ok with this but he still had to make sure 

“You sure about this babygirl? Cause once we start...I don’t know if i’ll be able to stop.” He voice dropped many octaves and resonated deep in your soul to the point of setting off a gush between your legs that had you mindlessly nodding your head at the man.

“Words Princess.” He gripped your chin and kept that intense eye contact.

“Yes sir.” The name set off something in him and he had you flung across his mattress, head between your legs and hands gripping your thighs while he kept his eyes on your face contorting in pleasure. 

We play our fantasies out in real life ways and

No Final Fantasy, can we end these games though?

He made you cum with a powerful orgasm but you knew he could do better and he knew that he was just warming you up for one of the best nights of your life...besides marrying him and having kids together. 

THAT’S how sure of himself he was that he’d ruin you for anyone else.

Could you blame him tho? He finally has you how he’s been dreaming about and he isn’t gonna hold back in let you know how much you mean to him. He’s gonna make sure you feel his love for you like he’s been saying.

You give me energy, make me feel lightweight (Woo)

He saw you come down enough to get on your knees, staring into his face like he was yours. 

You saw your essence glistening in his facial hair, the moonlight that made its way in and added to the soft glow of the candle made him look like a beautiful shade of blue and near obsidian black. 

Your hands making their way up his sculpted arms, joining at the chest and making their way down his sculpted torso, leading to his happy trail and the prominent tent in his jeans that you couldn’t help but rub your palm against.

“No teasing, Princess.” His voice snapped you out of your day dream of the erect member laying between his thick thighs, encased by the light washed jeans. 

You looked up at him through innocent eyes and you swear you saw his pupils dilate even more, overtaken by lust as he brought his hand up your stomach, corse palms over your delicate skin and thick fingers wrapping around your neck for a tight squeeze before he gently pushed you back onto the bed once he saw you close those pretty eyes and bit your lip at the action. 

Like the birds of a feather, baby

He pulled you closer to the edge of the bed before he started to remove his denim bottoms. Eyes never leaving yours as he pushed his jeans down his muscular legs, taking his boxers off at the same time before standing at attention once kicking them off.

You couldn’t help but look down at the one-eyed monster between his legs and he took notice at the way you looked at him.

He gripped the base of it before calmly saying “Don’t worry baby. You’re a big girl and I know you can take it.” His hand pumping slowly at the look in your eyes and the wetness between your legs. 

He grabbed a condom from the nightstand, rolling it over his tip causing you to let out a whine at not being able to feel his girth in your mouth.

“Don’t worry Princess, you can have a taste later. Right not i want to feel that sweet pussy gripping this fat dick, that alright?” He said a soft voice but it was gruff that it had you getting slick even more at the dominance he had in that moment and the way he put receiving on the backburner. 

You just nodded you head and he got close to you to rub his tip between your folds, lubricating the condom with what you supplied. It was a sight for him that he had to think of anything besides busting in the condom then and there.

We real life made for each other

He made you look at him before pushing into your wet valley. He took his time as you relaxed and felt every hot inch insert itself so deliciously slow.

And it's hard to keep my cool

You weren’t going to lie and say you didn’t like the gentle strokes he was giving to let you adjust, however you knew he wanted to go faster and harder if he was as sexually frustrated as you were from subpar partners.

Cause you’re a one in a million 

There ain't no man like you

It was like he was reading your mind. 

After he noticed you moving your bottom half off the bed to meet his strokes, he grabbed your legs, placing them over your shoulder, not missing a beat and going deeper into your depths.

“Oh shit tre!” He had to let out a breathy chuckle before he felt you grip his dick with your tight walls. That caused his body to jerk even deeper before he could process it and had him releasing a deep grunt you don’t think you’ve ever heard from him before.

“Shit Princess. Got this tight pussy grippin me like this? Who said you could do that?” He was gonna make sure you knew who was incharge in the bed room but you had a surprise for him when you were able to catch him off with the slip of a whispered ‘daddy!’ that made his hips stutter and him lose focus.

You were able to get him on his back, his large member not slipping from your clenching muscles and managed to start grinding on the massive amount of muscle lying beneath you.

“I did. Nigga” You went in after that.

Trevante watched in awe at the way you were taking him, knowing this position meant you’d definitely feel him in your gut if you sat completely over his pulsing, thick pole.

You planted your feet on either side of his hips, hands moving through the wisps of hair sprayed across his chest and switched the pace of your movements.

Up. Down and grind then up again.

He wasn’t going to lie and say that you were riding him like the perfect woman, like he’d always imagine after hearing about the way a woman could trap a man with good sex, he finally believed it with you over him.

That intense i contact was adding to the pleasure for you both and he couldn’t help himself. He brought his hand down on your ass quick and hard before gripping the round flesh in his hands and picking you up to lay back on the bed again before he started to pound into you faster once he saw your eyes rolling back and felt your pussy clenching him even harder.

“You gonna cum on this dick babygirl? Huh?! Answer me and take it like a big girl!”

all you could do was nod your head and repeatedly chant “Yes Yes Yes Yes” even after he finished speaking to you.

You layed under him a blubbering mess but wanting to prove to him you weren’t a punk.

“Cum on this dick Princess. I want to feel that pretty pussy cum all over this -fUCK! THAT’S RIGHT!-yea cum on this dick! Make it yours bitch!”

That word did something for you.

“I’M CUMMING.”

“Then cum bitch.” He whispered into your ear and it ignited the spasms and feeling of pure bliss of release.

He watched you convulse under him and he felt his sack tighten at the way your face looked that he couldn’t take his eyes off yours even for a second.

“Look at me bitch! I said look at me!” He gripped your cheeks between his large hand and got you to face him, seeing your dazed state and then he recognized you were going to cum again.

“You gonna cum again? You like this? Huh?” He waited and raised his leg onto the bed, bending it and forcing your legs to go wider by taking them from around his hips.

He had you so confused in this position. 

You didn’t know if you wanted to run or stay there but you knew it had you cumming closer. Then you felt a smack to the face.

“I asked you a question! Answer me!” His loud voice, deep and all baritone like bounced off the walls at his command.

“Yeees I’M CUMMING!” You responded, equally loud you were sure the neighbours would hear but they should mind the business that pays them you thought.

You were getting the pounding of your life and didn’t want to have to stop because of nosey people calling security to check on the unit.

If they didn’t know what was going on, then that’s tough. But you were gonna make sure you got railed well tonight.

He didn’t know what came over him but he had to say it

“You love this dick baby? You love how I feel inside you?” His voice was still deep but that roughness made you tingle and he felt the flutter of your walls over him

“Yes!” You squeaked out.

“FUCK! I feel that pussy gripping me even tighter!”

He looked at you and you managed to pry your eyes open and stare into his as he said what he felt was right in that moment.

“You wanna be my girl? Huh?” His eyes still held list in them, but there was a softness as he slowed down to ask this, coming closer to you to pepper kisses over your face and embrace you.

“Yes!” You loved the way he felt but you wanted him to go harder so when you pleaded “Harder Tre! Please? I need you to go harder” He fixed his position and granted you your wish by pounding into you harder and faster, his gentle thrusts out the window and your ecstasy written all over your face.

You tried pushing his hips away but he smacked your hands away, grabbing both wrists and coming to you closer and to your ear.

“You gonna cum when I tell you to? You gonna be a good girl for me?” He watched you in pleasure of maintaining his composure and not cumming the first minute he sunk into your velvety pussy that he couldn’t even manage would feel so heavenly as it does now.

“Yes” You sounded so pathetic and it turned you on more than you thought possible at being so dominated but the big heap of dark, thick hefty muscle plowing into you made you feel safe even with his belittling of you but you knew it was only for the sex. 

“Yeah? My girl huh? You’re so pretty under me.” He whined. It was so beautiful to hear so loud into your ear in the close position he was in. 

This close proximity made you feel so connected and had you tearing up a little at the fact you knew he was still being gentle with you and it brought you closer.

Trevante looked down at you and saw the cloudy look in your eyes. He knew you were cumming again and he was right there with you so he let you go and pushed one of his hands between your sweaty bodies, finding your clit and stimulating you double time to climax together.

He saw your eyes rolling back when he felt that tightness in his sack before he shouted out to you,

“CUM! CUM ON THIS DICK!” He roared out to you.

It was a rush you hadn’t been prepared for as he managed to get faster but his rhythm started to become irregular. He still managed to hit that deep spot in you that had you going crazy when his tip would rub over it and all that could be heard was you both climaxing then heavy breathing.

He continued to grind into you slowly, careful that it may hurt you but he wanted to ride out the best orgasm he’s had in awhile, and knowing that it was with you made him want to keep his dick deep in you.

If it wasn’t for the condom, he’s sure he would’ve gotten you pregnant and totally stepped up to the plate to take care of you and his seed.

Like you

He couldn’t believe that you were here, in this moment with him and he had to make sure you know that you were all he could ever want and more.

He raised up and you whimpered at the loss of warmth he provided and the way his body calmed you down after such a session.

“None of that.” He said, leaning back down to place a gentle kiss to you lips “I’ll be back Princess” and then slowly pulling out of you to tie the condom and through it away. 

You couldn't help but watch his retreating form go into the bathroom and come back with a damp rag to wipe you up and then leave the room to get you some water and lay back in the bed with you next to him. 

You both stared at eachother once he got back in the bed and you managed to fix yourself in a comfortable position, not caring about the sweat or the way you may look like a mad woman.

Instead, you brought your hand up to his cheek and watched as he closed his eyes before puckering his lips, leaning to you for a kiss that you happily gave him and he pulled you to lay on his chest.

He thought you had fallen asleep as you hadn’t moved in a while and knew he had to catch some sleep to if he wanted to get up early and make you something for breakfast. 

He planted a soft kiss onto your forehead, gripping you tighter and released a content sigh.

I found it hard to find someone like you

He wasn’t going to let you go and for a moment he thought he heard you say something but he passed it off as fatigue from the intense session the both of you just carried out after months of sexual frustration and tension. 

Trevante didn’t know that you were still awake and said that you loved him 

I can't be without you

You knew you weren’t gonna run anymore and he was it. Your one in a milllion and you would do everything to keep him, like he would you.

He held you tighter before finally closing his eyes, a small smile on his face.

And I can't be without you

He hadn’t heard you say you loved him...

but that’s neither here nor there.

You’d be alright with saying it again when you both were awake and not high off sexual energy.

Like you.

Taglist:

@killmonger-fics

@browngirldominion

(Dm to be added to the permanent taglist or let me know which actors/characters you’d want me to tag you in when I write)

——————————————————————————

Hey y’all! 

Sorry this took so long🥴 Been busy with uni and some other personal stuff so I put this off longer than intended🥴

But what’d you think, hope this met the standards and was worth it? 

Don’t forget to like, reblog and/or comment 😊

Hope you’re staying safe, checking in on your friends and loved ones and taking time for yourself :)))

Love you all and thanks for the support.

-K💜

[victimhood]

Cesare and the flower kids (Sasha, Polya, Zhenya, Gia)

(gentle reminder to mute/block “yucky wedding” if you don’t want my spammy use of my own tumblr as a pinterest aesthetic board)

Cesare the goodest boy wears a little bowtie for a collar and he’s the ring bearer!!! 😍

Sasha (Alexander, Timo and Olga’s oldest kid, seven years old at this point)

Sasha wears the Pirouette two-piece skort set from GRACE MINI, blouson top made of silk crepe de chine, paired with a full double layer tulle skirt with scallop and star embroidered trim detail.

Sasha likes wearing dresses! His parents have asked him at one point if he ever thought he was a girl, but he insists that he’s a boy, “because he likes boys”. I’ll leave you to imagine the parents’ faces at this display of kid!logic. In my head, Sasha grows up to be a goalkeeper like his dad, and he becomes the most fabulous gnc goalie ever. There is one line in the epilogue which I will not spoil but NO, Sasha’s childhood dream DOES NOT come true. He just gets new (and better) dreams to pursue.

Polya (Polina, Timo and Olga’s second kid, four years old)

Polya wears the GRACE MINI Bambini dress, a flowy ivory silk dress with flutter sleeves and a loose A line silhouette. This dress is simple and fuss-free, perfect for bossy little Polya to stomp around in.

Zhenya (Evgenia, Timo and Olga’s third kid, two years old)

Zhenya was born premature and is sensitive to lights/sounds/crowds/noise as a result. She's a mostly nonverbal austistic kid and tends to hide behind her best friend, Gia. This double layered lace tunic dress is loose fitting with no inner scratchy bits, so she had no objections to wearing it.

Gia (Booker and Nile’s first kid aka “ma pupuce” to Booker, two years old)

Unfortunately for all the kids I am constrained to the model photos available on the retailer’s website. Sasha and Zhenya are actually blond while Polya is redheaded like her dad. Gia is of course, a little Black girl.

Gia wears a lace dress with a fitted long-sleeved bodice and a full circle skirt. The dress has a deep V cut at the back, decorated with an oversized bow.

Here, have a reference photo for little Gia in a similarish dress! She wears her hair in a natural afro style, pulled together in a ponytail and topped off with a floral headband for the wedding!

Anyway, Gia is the sweetest! She’s a good-natured child and very intelligent. Booker calls her “ma pupuce” just because it’s a French term of affection, but this is a conversation she’s going to have with her dad.

Gia: Papa why do you call me ma pupuce?

Booker: It means little flea...from puce

Gia: Why am I a flea?

Booker: *struggling to explain* ermmm...the French think...fleas are cute? Oh oh! Maybe it’s because fleas are attracted to sweet things, and you’re the sweetest little cutie pie

Gia: So...am I the flea or the pie???

Booker: *flustering* Which one do you want to be?

Gia: Flea sounds fine. You can be my papa flea. But if I’m a baby flea, wouldn’t I be a maggot?

Booker: *inwardly cursing* *frantically googles “are baby fleas maggots?”* Yes ma pupuce, do you want to be my little maggoty maggot?

Gia: I’m not a maggot! But Marcel is! [Gia points to her infant brother] Marcel is a maggot! Maggoty Marcel! Marcel maggot!

...and this is the story of how ALL of Gia’s siblings are her maggots.

[shutupandshipit]

Coming Home - Part 2

Summary: When Katsuki stepped off the plane, he was greeted with the familiar heat of Musutafu in summer. Humidity like he was sitting in a sauna. He’d been all over America in the past five and a half years, but nothing was quite like the weather of home. It could be similar, primarily along the east coast, but just not quite the same. Just similar.

Breathing in deeply, he gripped the small hand in his and started down the ramp to where he could see Best Jeanist leaning against a car with illegally blacked out windows. Katsuki idly wondered if he was absolutely roasting in his hero uniform.

“Your hand is sweaty, Papa.”

“Your’s isn’t much better, little monster.”

…..

Or where Katsuki disappeared to America to find someone to make prostheses for him. He was gone for five and a half years, and returns with a little tag-a-long.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T (just for language mostly)

Chapter: 2/2

Part 1 <-Previous

Follow-on: Christmas Preemie

Part 2: what’s in the box?

Katsuki woke with a sudden start to cool sheets and aching ears. The events of the night trickled back slowly as he lay there, blinking into the sunlight peaking in at him around the edges of his curtains. No, not his curtains. They were a disgusting pea green color that had been left there by the owner who had rented the place to them. He'd have to remedy that as soon as possible.

In the confusion of the first good night's sleep he'd gotten in a long time, he could convince himself that everything had been a dream. He was still in America, miserable save for the time he spent with Katsumi. But with a rustle of sheets, Izuku's lightning storm and mint scent misted the air.

Katsuki buried his nose in the pillow Izuku had used, inhaling his scent for several long moments. He'd spent years without his mate's scent. Or he should say, the scent of the person he'd like to be his mate eventually. His alpha's scent. His Deku's scent. If scents could be made into perfumes, he would carry around a bottle of Izuku's scent just to pull out when he missed him. And he did miss him. Katsuki had gotten over the knee jerk reaction to deny any soft feeling towards the other hero a long time ago. It was hard to keep hold of them when he adored their daughter who was the spitting image of her father.

A crash and resounding laughter from the kitchen jerked him from his reverie. His hearing aids squealed, and he flinched before snapping his prostheses into place with a grunt. The palm of his prosthetic arm sparked feebly, but there was no sweat in the arm's tubes to light off. They'd be filled soon enough as he started to move around, collected from ports hooked into his armpit's sweat glands.

He took a moment to let the pain settle, running through his pre-operational checks before pushing to his feet.

His hearing aids squealed again, and with a grunt, he pulled them off. The world around him hushed into silence. He should have thought of taking them out before going to bed that night. He hadn't though, not with Izuku's hands on him. There was the very real chance he wouldn't be able to use them for the rest of the day, not with the way his ears were aching. The ringing built slowly until it was filling his head with static. Tinnitus, the worse part of anything he'd done to himself. Even worse than the prostheses. It would fade in and out throughout the day, leaving him in silence or giving him a splitting headache. There was never an in between.

In the kitchen, the counters were dusted with pancake or waffle mix. Fruit and vegetables sweat by the sink, begging for him to save them from a terrible butchering. Smoke rose damningly from a pan on the stove.

Standing over it, Izuku stood with Sumi on his hip and a spatula in his hand. They laughed in unison as Izuku failed to flip the pancake. 'I'm so bad at this. Your papa is a way better cook than me.' They looked so natural together. Izuku's curls against Sumi's. Izuku's smile matching the one of Sumi's face perfectly. Their freckles vibrant and an identical map across their faces. There was no mistaking what they were.

Katsuki couldn't hear them, obviously, but in five years, he had become passable at reading lips. And reading Izuku's had never been a problem.

'Me too,' Sumi confided, trying just as unsuccessfully to flip the pancake. When she finally got it over, they cheered together with hands raised high above their heads.

Katsuki leaned against his doorjamb, watching the pair interact until Izuku caught sight of him.

Red bloomed in his cheeks as he grinned. 'Kacchan! Good morning!' What Katsuki wouldn't have given to see those lips form his name on his worst days in America.

'Morning, Papa! We're making breakfast!' Sumi frowned down at the pan before turning serious eyes on him. 'Trying to. We burned the pancake.' When she looked back up at him, she frowned and pointed to her ear. She pointed the tips of her index fingers at each other, jerking them towards each other twice. 'Hurt?' the sign asked.

Nodding and stepping away from his room, Katsuki surveyed the destruction of his kitchen. He sighed. Raising his hands to sign to Sumi, 'That's because you two can't be trusted in the kitchen. The heat is way too high. How have you already managed to destroy my kitchen in only a day?'

Sumi grinned and translated for Izuku, but didn't actually answer. Izuku scrubbed at the back of his head, eyes darting over the area. 'We were hungry and didn't want to wake you up, so we thought we'd give it a shot. I'm going to clean up. Don't worry.'

Sighing and rounding the counter, Katsuki pulled on the apron he'd hung up the night before and bumped Izuku out of the way with his hip. 'Well, we have to finish breakfast first. Tell Deku he's eating that burnt monstrosity. Also, can you ask him to wash the dishes so you can set the table?'

Sumi nodded, and turned in Izuku's arms to hold his cheeks between her hands. As the three of them got to work, Katsuki fell into the ease of it all. Their scents mixing together in a harmonious chorus. Katsuki and Izuku orbiting around each other as if they'd never stopped. Sumi incorporated seamlessly into the movement as she worked with Izuku.

Katsuki was, fundamentally, happy for the first time in a long time. Even the usual self consciousness of his bare prostheses and deaf ears couldn't find its way into his body. When he was with Izuku, he was the most confident version of himself.

Breakfast went off without a hitch as Sumi did her best to teach Izuku a few basic ASL signs.

Across the table from them, Katsuki smiled and proceeded to say everything dirty he possibly could. He did them while Sumi's eyes were turned away, and was so lewd that Izuku didn't need to know sign language to know what he was saying.

Face red at a strawberry, he cried, 'Kacchan, stop!'

'Never.'

'Papa, stop teasing Daddy!' Sumi signed as she spoke, glaring at him.

He raised an eyebrow at her in challenge. “I do what I want, punk,” Katsuki said aloud, and though he couldn't hear himself, he knew they had come out correctly when Izuku's shoulders began to shake with laughter.

They were finishing breakfast when Katsuki's eye was caught by a light flashing by the couch. He'd completely forgotten that he'd left his phone out in the living room at the end of the night, and he stood to grab it. He groaned when he saw the name for the video chat request. Accepting the call, he held up a finger without looking at the screen as he returned to the kitchen to find something to stand his phone against. When he had it set up, he stepped back to greet his now ex-boss.

Negative was an imposing woman to say the least. Her eyes were inkwells, blending almost perfectly with her black skin. Her outrageously large Afro was starkly white and just barely being restrained with a Ground Zero themed bandanna she'd bought for the sole purpose of annoying him, but had ended up using often. She was tall and broad shouldered and took up space in a room with her mere presence. Every day he saw her, he thanked the stars that they were both gay. He'd met her wife, a teeny tiny beta woman who was the reason for the term 'lipstick lesbian', and still didn't understand their union.

'What?'

Negative signed as she spoke, mouth tight with consternation, 'You didn't call me, you punk ass bitch. I told you to call as soon as you landed no matter what time it was.'

Katsuki sighed, rolling his eyes. 'Stuff came up.'

'You're a dirty liar. Where's my goddaughter?' she demanded. Cynthia, her wife, appeared in the frame with the widest smile in the world. Her long rainbow dreads swayed as she waved at him and blew him a kiss.

“Hi, Cynthia.” He glanced away from the screen towards the table where Katsumi was waving wildly.

'Is that Shonetta? Aunt Shonetta, I'm over here! I'm over here!' Sumi was yelling, ready to crawl straight across the table to him, but Izuku had an arm around her waist to keep her in place.

Rolling his eyes back to the camera, Katsuki picked up the phone and switched the camera to show Izuku with his still rather sleep-mussed hair and Sumi look just like him. “Shonetta, Cynthia, Deku. Deku, Shonetta and Cynthia.”

Izuku waved at the camera. 'Actually, my name is Izuku. It's nice to meet you.'

Cynthia had crowded in next to Shonetta, staring intently at the screen with wide eyes. Katsuki scrambled to mute the call before she said anything that he was going to regret. 'Holy shit, that's baby daddy, isn't it!' They had always been good at talking while signing for his sake, but sometimes, he wished he couldn't understand them at all.

Which was, of course, a dirty lie. Shonetta and Cythia had singlehandedly kept him sane in America. He had a lot to thank them for. The biggest reason them guiding him through his pregnancy which had been more difficult than most for many reasons. It would take an act of god for him to give them up. Katsuki returned to the counter, glaring at the two women as they continued speculating together.

'Thought you had better taste than that, Kat. Isn't he kind of plain looking?' Shonetta asked.

Cynthia slapped at her wife's arm. 'Be nice! He's adorable! Sumi looks exactly like him! Take us off mute really quick.' Katsuki complied with her request as Shonetta squawked indignantly at not realizing he had muted them in the first place. With a roll of her eyes, Cynthia waves at the camera again. 'Good to know you made it back alright, Kat, Sumi. I've got to get to work, but hope to talk to you soon! Don't be strangers. Bye, Sumi! I love you both!'

Katsuki doesn't turn to catch Sumi's reply, just nodded to Cynthia. "Bye."

When Cynthia seemed to be completely gone, Shonetta turned a wicked grin toward him. 'So, is he... stuff? Have you already-' she signed. By the end, she wasn't even using actual words, just making hand gestures that were so lewd they even made Katsuki's face heat. She was the one he'd learned all of his sign language from, after all.

'No!' he signed aggressively, 'God, you are a menace to society! Leave my mate out of this!'

'Oooooh, mate already?' she crowed, flapping her hands instead of signing. She wrapped her arms around her belly as she began to chortle, and he could almost hear the exact sound of her laughter in his head.

He wanted to strangle every last breath out of her as he peaked at Izuku's red cheeks through the gaps in his fingers. Growling, he reached for the phone. “That's enough out of you. We're alive. You've seen us. Bye. Go die in a ditch.”

Shonetta only continued to laugh as he ended the call, and turned to the table. Without so much as he beat, he pointed at Sumi. 'Breakfast is over. You know the drill. Yoga and then a run. Chop chop. Go get changed. We've got a lot to do today, and not a lot of time to do it.'

Sumi nodded once before turning to Izuku to explain.

'I've got to start heading over to the agency anyway for patrol.' Izuku stood, smiling.

Without missing a beat, Sumi jumped from her chair to wrap her arms around his body and pressed her face into his stomach.

Izuku was taken aback, arms raised to shoulder level as his eyes flicked between Katsuki and Sumi. After a still moment, he let his arms drop around her. He lowered his head, his mouth obscured from Katsuki's views. Sumi grinned up at him before bounding off toward her room.

Izuku turned to look at Katsuki, scrubbing at the back of his head. 'Can I... see you guys again? Tonight maybe?'

“Whatever.” Katsuki pulled Izuku into his body. They tangled together, hips pressed flush, tongues twined, hands on waists and hands in hair. When they parted again, he said, “Gotta make up for five years.” He stared into Izuku's green eyes, brushing a thumb across his cheek. He dropped his eyes to Izuku's lips when he felt them brush against his, pulling back enough just to see what he said.

'Of what?'

“Everything.”

…..

Weeks passed, and things changed. Sumi started going to school. It was weird for her starting Kindergarten in the middle of the school year, but she adjusted well enough.

Katsuki started going back to work. He had more than enough to keep him busy. Relearning the streets and districts of his home city. Figuring out who was still in the city, who was new, and who he would work best with. Reestablishing himself in Japan, and painfully crawling his way up the ranks. Adjusting back to his old hero uniform with the minor adjustments he had made. When he'd gone to America, he hadn't been expecting to stay there for five and a half years, so he hadn't thought to bring his uniform. It wasn't particularly suitable for America anyway, so a uniform had to be made for him while he was there. But just like his original uniform wasn't suitable for America, his overseas uniform wasn't suitable for home.

Izuku became a constant fixture in his and Sumi's life. Every afternoon they came home, it was to Izuku standing on their doorstep. Every night when he fell asleep, it was with Izuku in his arms to soothe the nightmares. Every morning when they left, it was with Izuku beside them. He was around so often and frequently that Katsuki eventually gave him a key, a drawer in his wardrobe and a chunk of space in his closet.

After starting late night patrols again, Izuku was the only one he trusted to watch Sumi. Eventually, he started to let him take over more and more parental responsibilities until they were sharing them as equals instead of Katsuki remaining in his steadfast single parent routine.

He trusted Izuku implicitly, but even that trust was under scrutiny when it came to Sumi.

So, when Katsuki returned home one night with his heat building beneath his skin to Izuku curled on the couch alone, knees pulled to his chest while he watched hero videos, the slightest sliver of betrayal lodge in his chest. “Where's Katsumi? You were supposed to pick her up,” he growled dangerously as he stood behind Izuku, all protective omega father in his voice and stance.

Izuku tilted his head back to look at Katsuki, expression smooth and his scent doing a passable job of being calming. “With your parents and my mother.”

“Why?” Ever so slowly, he began to deflate. He wasn't exactly happy that his daughter was with her grandparents without his knowledge, but happier than if Izuku had forgotten to get her from school.

Blinking slowly, Izuku lifted his head and turned to patiently gaze at him. “We talked about this, remember? When the time came for your heat, Katsumi would stay with your parents and my mom. I know you'll start tomorrow, I could smell it on you every time I passed you on the streets today, but I thought it'd be nice to have a night for ourselves. I wanted to have a date night. Watch a movie, eat some take out, cuddle on the couch. Date nights don't normally include being accompanied by five-year-old daughters.” His expression remained pleasant, but longing crept into his voice. “We haven't spent any time alone together as a couple since you got back. I thought it'd be nice.”

Katsuki stared at him, silent for a long moment while he let his words settle in. Breathing out the spike of betrayal and anger that had stabbed him, he nodded. “Yeah. Okay. I'm going to bathe first. Did you order something already?”

Beaming, Izuku stood on his knees and beckoned Katsuki in for a chaste kiss. “I picked up food from that weird restaurant you like. That one place that has your favorite extra spicy California Roll.”

“Did you get me an extra spicy California Roll?” Katsuki asked, hands resting lightly on Izuku's hips.

Izuku scoffed. “Of course, I did. Do I look stupid to you?” When Katsuki started to open his mouth for a snarky reply, he slapped a hand over his lips. “Don't answer that. Jerk. Just go take your shower.”

Growling low and suggestively in his throat, Katsuki nipped at the soft pads of his fingers, sucking a digit into his mouth for the briefest of moments. When he pulled away, Izuku's face was flaming and he was smirking in satisfaction. “Keep it in your pants for now, Deku. You've got me for three whole days.”

Izuku whined pitifully before slumping back onto the couch in a boneless heap. He pressed his hands over his burning face. “You can't just do stuff like that, Kacchan. I'm not used to it anymore. Especially since we haven't done anything yet.”

Katsuki leaned over the couch, tugging a few fingers away from Izuku's face to look him in the eye. “Yeah, because we were waiting for my first heat together again. Well, it's here now. Prepare yourself because I've got five years of pent up sexual frustration to get out over the next three days.” He grinned viciously.

Again, Izuku whined. “Oh my god, I'm gonna have to go jerk-off or something so I don't cum the moment you touch me.”

Katsuki's smile only grew more vicious. “Do it or don't. You're going to have to figure out a way to satisfy me anyway.”

Izuku squeezed his eyes shut. “Thank god for ruts,” he whispered because when Katsuki's heat hit, Izuku would be catapulted into a rut.

Forty-five minutes later found take-out containers empty and Izuku leaned back against Katsuki's chest while they watched video after video of highlights from All Might's career. They hadn't been able to find a decent movie that they both wanted to watch, and settled for something they were always okay with. Fifteen minutes later though, Izuku turned in Katsuki's arms to face him.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow at him, but remained silent in the face of Izuku's determination.

He pressed close, nipping at Katsuki's lips, coaxing him into a slow make-out session as he crawled his way into Katsuki's laps. Knees on either side of the other hero's hips, he ground languidly down into him.

Hissing, Katsuki ripped their mouths apart as he bucked up into Izuku. “Jesus fuck, Deku, are you trying to make me come in my pants?” He could feel Izuku's smirk against his pulse point rather than see it, and shivered.

“No. But I want you to know I'm going to ride you before anything else. I haven't been filled with anything other than toys in five years. It's all I've been able to think about when we're alone since you got back,” Izuku whispered, breath husky as it ghosted across the exposed skin of Katsuki's ear around his hearing aid, “No one wants to top an alpha. Either way, no one could ever live up to you. You're the best, you always have been. I want you to fill me up. I want you to pin me down and dominate me like only you know how, Kacchan.”

Katsuki groaned deep in his throat, biting shallowly into Izuku's collar bone, fingers bruising against his hips. “And no one wants to be topped by an omega. God,” he breathed, “I've missed you. You're the only alpha I'd waste my time on. No one else could ever compare.” Once upon a time, the admission would have made him embarrassed and then angry at his own embarrassment, but now, it was simply the truth.

“I've never been able to look at anyone else,” Izuku whispered, ducking his head to catch Katsuki's lips again, “You're my only. You're my forever even if I'm not yours.”

Katsuki didn't get the chance to reply as Izuku sealed their mouths together again. They were teeth and tongues and sharp canines and blood mixed with saliva. They were rolling hips and heat and moans and needy pleasure.

“Deku-” Katsuki gasped, but Izuku swallowed down his own name.

“Bedroom, Kacchan, please. I need you,” Izuku gasped between kisses and panted breaths. He moaned into Katsuki's mouth when Katsuki gripped his ass and effortlessly lifted them from the couch. Arms twined around shoulders, legs wrapped around that ever so slender waist.

They tumbled into bed with foreheads pressed together and gasped laughter.

It was hours later, after Katsuki had taken Izuku, allowed Izuku to manhandle his protheses off and his heat had fully set in that Izuku said anything. “I want to exchange mating bites.”

Katsuki was panting, face pressed into the sheets as his body wound back up for another cresting wave of his heat. His mind was hazed with lust, muzzy and indistinct, but he understood that clearly enough. “Still?” He was just curious, but he couldn't tell what his voice sounded like. Sarcastic? Accusatory? Interested?

“I never stopped wanting to,” Izuku whispered while he gently guided Katsuki onto his back and then to sit up so he could press a water bottle to his mouth. “I've only ever wanted to be with you, Kacchan. Ever since we were little. Even when we weren't anything more than rivals.”

Katsuki accepted the water gratefully while Izuku proceeded to wipe his body down with a warm, damp cloth. “I thought you would have stopped after I disappeared without even a text. For keeping Katsumi from you. All of it.”

Leaving the cloth in the bathroom sink, Izuku climbed back onto the bed behind him. He pulled Katsuki flush against his chest, hooking his chin over his shoulder. “No, I'm a stubborn as you are.”

Katsuki pressed back into Izuku, tilting his head so their temples were pressed together. “I don't think I'm ready,” he whispered, eyes closed as he tried to think through his jumbled thoughts.

“There's no rush. You don't ever have to accept. I'll wait for a long as you need even if that means waiting forever. I'm very patient.”

“It won't be forever, idiot. Just... not yet.” Turning his head more completely towards Izuku, he growled, “Now, less talking, more kissing.”

“Needy,” Izuku said with a giggle, but gave him what he wanted all the same.

…..

Katsuki was just walking into the office after his shift -nine in the morning, no coffee since midnight, no Katsumi since the morning before- and he was frustrated. The night hadn't been a good one, and with blood still drying in crusty patches all over his uniform, he was as unhappy as they could come. He just wanted to see his daughter for the first time in what felt like days and cuddle with her and his alpha on the couch.

“Kat! Thank god!” Kirishima shouted, running towards him. He wrapped strong fingers around his bicep, dragging him towards his office. “Come with me. Have you heard?”

“Good fucking morning to you too,” Katsuki snarled, but out of pure mental exhaustion, allowed himself to be dragged into his best friend's office. The door slammed shut behind them, and Katsuki went to raid Kirishima's coffee counter when he was released. “What the fuck's up with you anyway? It's too early in your shift to be acting like a jackass.”

Standing by his door, Kirishima rung his hands, staring out the clouded glass window instead of looking at Katsuki.

When he remained silent, Katsuki snarled and stepped into his space. “What the fuck is going on, Eiji?”

Kirishima jolted, head dropping in submission.

Katsuki stomach curdled with a sudden rush of nausea. It had been a long time since he'd seen Kirishima bare the back of his neck to him, and the last time he had, Izuku had been in a coma with no chance of recovering anytime in his immediate future. He gripped Kirishima's shoulder tightly, positive that his anxiety was being transferred through every pore. “What the fuck is going on?”

Whining, Kirishima covered his hand with his own, “I'm not supposed to tell you. The boss told me to just keep you out of the way so they can handle it.”

“If you don't fucking tell me, I'm just going to go out there and find out what the fuck is going on myself!”

“The- Uh- Your-” Kirishima groaned, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Some villains have taken a kindergarten school hostage. The call just came through a few minutes ago. The boss and some of the others have already gone-”

Shoving Kirishima aside, Katsuki tore through the door, heart beating a million miles an hour. 'Not again! Not again! Not again!' He burst into the sky towards Katsumi's school, sun bright and hot overhead. He could see the specks of other heroes moving in the same direction, then he saw a flash of green lightning disappear between the buildings.

He wanted to call out. He wanted Katsumi to be safe. He wanted Izuku to be safe. He wanted them both in his arms, and for none of this to be happening. He stumbled to a stop down the street from the school, just like he had the first time. When he saw the flames, his vision went black.

…..

When he came to, it was to the feeling of his breath wheezing in and out, warm familiar weight pressed against his chest, and Izuku staring straight at the ceiling with a far away expression. His fingers worked over something in his palm. His eyes were red, cheeks tear stained. His uniform was bloody and torn, but for once, he was whole. It felt like the first time Katsuki had ever seen him completely unbroken after a battle. Only thing was, he couldn't actually remember what had happened in this battle.

Agonizingly slow, he turned his head to look down at his chest. Katsumi laid there curled in the smallest ball possible, her own face tear stained and her legs removed. Her mane of green hair was tangled and dusted with dirt and ash.

He went to lift his arm, the one she wasn't sleeping on, but found only his stump. Frowning, he turned to glare at it. His mind was what he suspected was drug slow, and he couldn't really understand why his prostheses and hearing aids had been removed. He hadn't gotten that hurt, there was no way.

Lifting his eyes, Izuku was staring at him with a mouth all misshapen like a soft noodle and tears pouring down his face.

'Don't cry, idiot,' he wanted to say, but his hand was held captive and he wasn't sure if his voice was audible. He only knew that when he tried to speak, pain bloomed in his throat. Closing his eyes, his throat vibrated with a groan.

Fingers balled up the front of his gown, pulling the neckline taught against the back of his neck. A hard line pressed into his chest, and Izuku's fists shook against him.

'Don't. Cry. Izuku,' Katsuki tried again, and again, there was pain. He'd been expecting it this time so he was able to crack his eyes open despite the pain.

Izuku was sobbing against his body, forehead pressed to his chest. Head so close to Sumi's that their hair mingled, dirty and green and beautifully curly.

In his chest, Katsuki's heart silently swelled and burst when Sumi extracted a hand from beneath her body to pat Izuku's curls. Closing his eyes, a hot tear tracked down Katsuki's cheek with the sheer relief of having them both with him. He couldn't remember the battle, but for the second time, his daughter's school had been attacked. For the second time, he'd been close to losing her. This scene before him could have ended up as a very different one.

Katsuki could feel Izuku's lips moving against his chest, breath rapid fire with words he couldn't hear. He only opened his eyes again when he felt small fingers press to his ear.

Sumi wasn't looking at him, but instead at Izuku, tugging against his hair to get him to lift his head. When he finally complied, eyes blurry with fat tears, she tapped on Katsuki's ears before pointing to her own.

Izuku's eyes darted up to Katsuki's face. After a moment of staring, he scrubbed quickly at his eyes before stepping away towards a table that had four prosthetic limbs and three bags on it. Sitting back down, calmer than before even though his lips were still that same soft noodle shape, he handed Sumi one hearing aid.

Together, they hooked Katsuki back up. Very carefully, Sumi turned them on, staring at his face intently as she turned the volume up.

The beeping of his heart monitor faded into existence followed by Sumi's and Izuku's breathing. “Good,” he said, and his voice was barely a croak passed the pain. Wincing, he lifted his unpinned hand to his throat.

Izuku and Sumi reached for his hand at the same time, stopping him from touching his throat. “The doctor said not to touch,” Sumi told him.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow over at Izuku.

Tears crowded Izuku's eyes immediately again, and tracked down his face. His voice trembled as he whispered, “You were really hurt, Kacchan. The villain got you by the throat. You were fighting her alone while everyone else was either fighting the rest of her gang or rushing to evacuate the kids and staff. I couldn't get to you fast enough. I thought you were going to die. I felt so useless seeing you like that.”

“Now you know how it feels, dumbass.” Gritting his teeth, he breathed through the pain.

“Don't call Daddy that! It's mean!” Katsumi glared at him, lip puckered in a pout and her own big red eyes beginning to fill with tears. Her lip trembled, and then she was sniffling as her tears fell. “I-I was so scared, Papa. I thought you were gonna leave me and Daddy alone. I don't want you to die, Papa.”

Katsuki pulled her in against his chest, pressing as kiss to her forehead and holding her tight. When he looked to Izuku, he held out his stump, motioning him forward.

Izuku crowded in against his side, and the two loves of his life cried against him for long enough that their tears soaked his gown and the hard edge digging into his shoulder from Deku's palm pissed him off. “Deku, what the fuck is in your hand?” he growled through gritted teeth, “It fucking hurts.”

“Papa, you have foul language,” Katsumi whispered, but didn't pull away from him.

Izuku jumped away from him, his tears abruptly stopping as roses bloomed in his cheeks. He stammered and stammered and stammered a whole lot of nonsense until Katsumi's giggles interrupted him. “Sumi!” he cried.

“Just show him, Daddy! You don't have to be nervous!”

“Oh, yes I do!” Izuku argued back, “He could say no!”

Katsumi waved away his concern. “He's not gonna say no.”

“He might! I think I might know him just a little more after knowing him longer than you have!”

“Not in the last five years! I know him the best. He's gonna say yes.”

“How about you let 'him' decide for himself since he's sitting right here,” Katsuki interjected before the banter could continue any further, “Just spill it, Deku. My head's all fuzzy and my throat hurts, and I'm annoyed that my daughter knows more about whatever this is than I do.” Oh. Oh, he was going to regret all that talking later. He already was.

Izuku's eyes flickered between Sumi and Katsuki until he finally swallowed thickly. “Don't try to kill me. The doctors only stitched up the hole in your side a few hours ago.” He closed his eyes tightly.

Katsuki blinked rapidly at his alpha, those words sticking on repeat in his head. There had been a hole in his side? Just how much had the villains fucked him up? Well, clearly enough to land him in the hospital with some very good drugs running through his veins. Drugs that were clearly impairing his thought process.

'Not the point right now, dumbass,' Katsuki silently reprimanded himself.

'Alpha offer. Alpha wants. Give to alpha. Care for alpha,' his omega chanted, nearly prancing from one side to the other, 'Alpha offer family. Alpha offer commitment. Take. Agree.'

Izuku hadn't even opened his hand yet, so Katsuki turned a snarl inward, 'Shut the fuck up, and stop jumping to conclusions.'

'Omega conclusions. Our conclusions. Want. Take. Mate. Alpha. Family.'

Mentally rolling his eyes, Katsuki tried to ignore his omega's constant stream of consciousness in exchange for watching Izuku closely. Slowly, his fingers uncurled, and Katsuki's brain completely shut off. The monitor over his shoulder picked up its pace. His omega began to leap for joy in his chest, each jump punctuated by a beat of his heart.

When Katsuki just continued to stare, Izuku cautiously opened his eyes and with his mouth set in an uncertain line, opened the box. In a cushion of black velvet, a gold ring with two diamonds and a single emerald sat unobtrusively. “I've had it for awhile, but I was trying to get up the courage to actually ask you. I've never really thought about it, but after you came back, I couldn't stop thinking about it. And after the attack, I realized that I don't have the luxury of being afraid.” Inhaling deeply, Izuku finally met Katsuki's eyes. “I want to spend my entire life with you and Katsumi. I want to be your husband, your mate, a father to our daughter and everything in between. If you weren't in a hospital bed right now, I'd get down on one knee, but since you are, I'll just ask. Katsuki Bakugou, will you marry me?”

Completely speechless, Katsuki just continued to stare down at the ring in Izuku's hands. He realized Izuku's hands were shaking about the same time he realized that his eyes were filling with tears.

“K-Kacchan?”

“Papa! Answer Daddy!” Sumi cried, bouncing excitedly beside him on the bed, grinning from ear to ear. “Come on! Come on! Come on!”

Instead of answering aloud, Katsuki just stuck out his hand.

A sigh exploded from Izuku's chest. “Thank god,” he whispered, setting the box off to the side as he took Katsuki's hand in his mangled ones to slip the ring on his finger.

Katsuki dragged him forward, pressing their mouths together while Sumi cheered loud enough that a nurse peaked into the room. “One condition. You stop running headlong into situations that will get you killed,” he said.

“Okay, but only as long as you don't end up in situations that land you in a hospital bed. My heart can't handle it,” Izuku whispered against his lips, eyes still closed even though Katsuki's eyes were open again, “I can't go through this again. I don't want Katsumi to go through it again. You two have been through enough.”

“All three of us, but now you know how I felt every time I saw you in a hospital bed.” Izuku didn't need to open his eyes for Katsuki to see him roll them.

Sumi wiggled her way between them. “Does that mean Daddy is going to come live with us from now on?”

“I wasn't aware that he wasn't already,” Katsuki said snarkily.

“Yay!” Sumi swung around on the bed to face the nurse and Best Jeanist who was now beside her. “My Daddy and Papa are going to get married! And when Papa gets pregnant again, I'm going to have a little brother and maybe even a little sister! And Uncle Eiji is going to be Best Man, and oh! Uncle Tsu! You can be ring bearer! Wait, no! I'm going to be ring bearer, but you can walk with me!”

A thin blonde eyebrow rose, but Best Jeanist didn't say anything as Izuku and Katsuki began to splutter.

“Woah!” Katsuki croaked, pain thrumming through his neck, but he couldn't stop, “Who said I was gonna give you a brother, little monster? You're already enough. Just be happy with your cousins.”

As their banter continued between the three of them around and around, Katsuki couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed with Best Jeanist and the nurse's eyes on them. This was his family. This was his mate and his daughter. When their wedding day came, he was going to scream that truth from the rooftops.

He'd never been happier in his life.

[thegrownsimmer]

Should I do a LP with her? 

I mean, I’m already doing a Youtube Machinima. That takes a lot of time. But I did a SpeedCAS video on her as well. I feel like she’s just been sitting in my library thus far. Haven’t given her the time of day for all the energy placed into her creation.....

She does have a backstory I want to play through. For starters, she’s a NY native. Bronx to be exact. Her Afro-Latina vibes are deep rooted in her personal style, her room decor, her taste in food and men. Everything. She’s a recent NYCU grad who was supported by an upstate NY sugar papa, but he recently passed away and now she’s gotta get serious about using her degree to kick start her career. She’s traveled, she’s been on shopping sprees, she’s lived it up, and now she’s gotta get serious. But ...she just aint ready. She wants to date and continue to be spoiled. She is fiery, but she just ain’t motivated like she should be, and that gives her anxiety! She had a decent break from paying her own bills and worrying about budgeting and so forth. She knew this day would come, though. Just not so soon....

What ya’ll think? Should I try to capture this in a LP series?????? I’m open to your input!! 

[nesiwanawal3]

Yek Anwalajtiwit Uksenpa!!

Oooof it’s been a really long time since I posted here lol And what a hot mess I was when I did, still am though tbh. Well I wanted to share a little bit of family history before I posted two prayers I wrote in Nawat and Spanish dedicated to la Siguanaba and the nawal B’atz/Usumajti. I’ve been trying for years now to learn my family history through conversations with family members that I have access to as a trans woman. From what I’ve been able to gather I can say that I am an Afro-Guanaca. On my mom’s dad’s side our family is frorm Santa Ana, around the areas of Comecayo and Chalchuapa. My papa Pablo, my mom, my tia Betty, and my brother all have afros. We know that his family were wealthy landowning cafetaleros, which is something that is odd considering his families afro-descendance, I do think it came from his mom’s side though. My mama Eva and her family all worked on their cafetal in Comecayo, however her family had lived in Armenia, Sonsonate, El Matazano, Santa Ana and her mom’s family is possibly from Mercedes Umaña, Usulutan. Her ancestry is very confusing. She’s mentioned to me before that her mom spoke another language and that it wasn’t Nawat, she calls it Chapoteco (?) but I can’t find any information about that anywhere. The closest I’ve found to that is Choluteca/Chorotega or Zapoteco but tesu nikmati (I don’t know). She’s told me before that her mom called El Salvador el Wanani or el Guanani, again can’t really find anything about that either and she unfortunately doesn’t know much else about it. Both her and my papa Pablo’s indigenous ancestries are pretty unknown, most words we use in our Spanish though do come from Nawat. We could be Poqomam, Nawat, Lenca or even Ulua considering the only place I’ve ever seen the word Wanani was in an article written about the Miskitu nation as “li-wa’ nani” which was translated to “the evil spirits living under the water”. The only conclusion I can come to is that, including my dad’s familial history which I can talk about in another post, they’re from Cabañas (San Isidro and Sensuntepeque), is that with both families being familias campesinas it’s really really hard to find out about our ancestors without connections to our elders. I only have my mama Eva that I can talk to, all of my other grandparents have already passed on and never really had these conversations with my parents or their siblings, also taking into consideration levels of trauma that prevented them from having these kinds of relationships (La Matanza and the War, gender and class violence). I do have my mama Eva’s sister who I can talk to hopefully some day if my mom wants to let them in on the family secret that I’m trans, and hopefully I can talk with my dad’s dad’s brother someday too. Connecting with ancestors through language is something that is really close to me and important to me when writing, these messages are intended to be taken to them, for them to continously guide me. I hope they may channel that for you as well <3 I also wanna add for anyone that sees this that I’m part of a Trans and NonBinary Nawat language school started by my friend Petrona and our friends and elders from Witzapan called Tamachtiluyan Shuchikisa an ne Nawat, feel free to send me a DM if you’re interested in taking classes!!

[cherryblossom-chopper]

Straw Hat Parent Headcannons

So while I was writing Sanji’s headcannons I was thinking about how much I love parent child relationships and now I can’t stop thinking about the Straw Hats as parents.

Luffy

The fun dad

He’d probably have oopsie babies

I’d be really poetic if Luffy had three sons, that’d make my little heart explode

He’d love playing with his kids but his poor S/O would probably have to make sure he wasn’t being too rough with them

Luffy would cry the first time he got to hold his child

I think he’d be really proud of all their milestones and brag on them

He’d teach his kid to steal food from Sanji for him

I can imagine him carrying his baby around in one of those chest pouches (??) 

As his kid got older Luffy would probably let them do more dangerous activities, but I think he’d know where to draw the line

Not a super responsible parent, but still a good dad

Zoro

Probably encourages his kid to be athletic

Has a strict schedule for them especially when the kid is little

Zoro puts his toddler on one of those baby leashes so his kid doesn’t wander away from him

Papa Zoro is the best to nap with

He has the best dad hugs

Zoro is overprotective and a strict dad but he tries to let his kid be independent as they get older

I think Zoro would have a hard time with the idea of his kid growing up, like that's his baby and they’re getting older and going off and having their own life. He’d never admit that though

Zoro is kinda like a sports dad so I think he’d have a hard time connecting with his child if they were a book worm or just not all that athletic

His kid would probably be tasting alcohol at a young age, they’re first real drink would be a very proud moment for Zoro

Responsible parent, but a strict bean dad

Nami

THE WINE AUNT

Her kid is probably an accident, or adopted due to bad circumstances

I think due to her past Nami would be more likely to adopt a younger kid

I’m not sure Nami 100% would want a baby or a toddler, but a six year old would be better for her

I could imagine Nami being like Whitebeard where she just adopts an army of children and she’s just their mom

Any child of Nami’s would learn how to at least pickpocket people

She’d never let them get to far into harms way though

Nami’s babies would be frugal as all get out and be finance experts by the time their ten years old, I swear

As her kids got older I think Nami would be less patient with them and start getting real sassy with them about their life choices

Sanji

The most responsible dad out on the sea

Would not raise his kids the way he was raised, especially if their his daughters

His daughters are going to be precious princesses that much be protected at all times

He would of course love his kids no matter the gender (or lack of) they associated with

His kids would be taught to be well mannered at all times, manners are key to being successful

No toddlers in the kitchen it too dangerous

Carries his newborn child around in a baby sling?

Co sleeping at least for a few months

Every milestone is going to celebrated with cake and cookies and whatever else his baby wants

There will be tears

Usopp

He’s going to be a nervous wreck, oh my lord

“The baby won’t eat! What if they die!?”

“I’ve lost my child”

I cannot express how freaking stressed his going to be this poor boy

Usopp won’t have a leash or anything but he’s probably thought about

“I’m the Great Dad Usopp!”

Getting his kids to fall asleep is hard because he gets too excited with his stories, but he can always entertain them

Usopp would be stressed when his kid was a newborn, but when his kid starts walking that’d be a while new level of actual stress

He’d follow his toddler around the ship making sure they didn’t fall over board

Helicoper parent to the max

Probably a lot more chill when his kids get older though

Yasopp will get so many letters begging for advice

Chopper

His kid would probably a child he found that was really sick or injured that he got attached too

Chopper would be a worry wart but nowhere near as stressed as Usopp

At least every six months his kid would get a full body check up, just to be safe

He’d be sure his kid knows basic first aid and CPR

OHMY Matching hats; Chopper would totally try and let them have matching hats. Oh thats so cute

Chopper would 100% send a letter to Dr. Kureha that she’s a grandmother, this lady would totally cry

Chopper would try to dress his toddler up in little matching onsies a lot 

I think he’d cry when his kid got taller than him, which wouldn’t take long but still

Robin

Please allow me to introduce the best parent of the entire crew

she’s already the mom friend so like it’s time for a baby

I’d adore a Frobin baby but if it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen

Robin would read her child to sleep every night even if she just read them a history text book

Her kid would be able to read poneglys and when the got older Robin would recruit them to help her learn more about the ancient writing

I think Robin would be absolute elated to have a baby, but I think she could experience a bit of post partum depression

I think she’d be extra careful when her kid is young. Robin deeply fears losing her baby or passing away and her child has to live on without her

She doesn’t want the past to repeat itself and she’ll do everything in her power to protect her child

Her devil fruit lets Robin be the absolute master at tickle fights

Other than Sanji’s kid her child would be the most well behaved

Best parent on the crew hands down

Franky

Dad jokes thx

Franky would be all over his kids.

Everything his kids did would be worth celebrating. Each milestone woud be absolutely super

I can only imagine how much he’d purposefully embarrass his kids when they’re teenagers

Franky is crying all the time. His kid is born; crying. His kid starts walking; crying. His kids first word; crying. You get the picture

Franky would film his kid in shitty home videos all the time. ALL THE TIME.

He made a specialized baby pouch on his body so he could carry his child around

This kid will not have pants on. A pantless child will be running around the Sunny

Dad Franky is going to be giving his kids fun hairstyles on the daily

Probably the most involved Dad other than Usopp maybe

He’d be the type of parent to fight PTA Moms and stuff but also bring cookies to the little league games

Brook

I’m sorry but I cannot imagine this man with a baby. Like... I dunno if it’s because he’s a skeleton but I can only imagine him with a bunch of cats. I think Brook would take in a child if need be but I just don’t think he’d want one of his own. I honestly just can’t really imagine it. I think he’d be a decent baby sitter and the fun weird uncle that everyone has tho

IMPORTANT UPDATE ABOUT BROOK

Alright so user, Sanny-chan5 mentioned that Brook is like a grandpa and omfg yes. I didn’t think of that so now I have Gramps Brook Headcannons for ya’ll

Weird pocket candy

Tells the same like six stories over and over again to his grandkids

Special grandpa-grandbaby music lessons

“You wanna comb my Afro?”

Grandpa Brook just 100% for carrying his grand baby on his shoulders

They could wear his hat and he’d cry

Brook likes to make his soul exit his body to scare them but he’d feel bad if they got real upset

Lullabies

Is the crews official grandpa

[kathyprior4200]

The Radio Demon’s Guide to the Inferno

(What it says on the back)

 “You poor sack of former human skin and sin. You died and are stuck in Hell. Now what? Fear not, for in this book, you shall find the answers to seek on what you need to know to survive the inferno. You’ll learn how to stay safe and entertain yourself during the Extermination. You’ll get a sneak peek on the origins of voodoo, radio, and Jambalaya. And as for becoming a better person and getting out of this mess? You’re probably stuck here forever until you die again, but this book will provide you with handy information and a much needed cure for your boredom!”

 *Includes a free pamphlet for the Hazbin Hotel and how to tune in to 66.6 FM.*

 About the author: Alastor “Hazbin” Cajun was born January 24, 1896 in New Orleans, Louisiana. He died in 1933 and is now one of the most powerful demons Hell has ever seen. In his spare time, he loves broadcasting his murders on the radio, cooking meals, making dolls, and performing. As of 2020, he is 87 years old in Hell and 124 years chronologically. However, his friend princess Charlie is 200 + years old, despite having the appearance of a teenager!”

  This is a story of a book, a book called “The Radio Demon’s Guide to the Inferno”--not an Earth book, never published on Earth, and until the Exterminations occurred, no Earthling has ever heard of it.

 It is a remarkable book in Hell, though.

 It is highly successful, written by the one and only Radio Demon Alastor. It’s more successful than Angel Dust’s “Guns, and Poses: Turf Wars in Style,” “Lust is a Must,” and “Being Gay in a World of Macho Sinners.” Unfortunately for the following authors, Charlie Magne’s book “Rainbows Inside Everyone” remains one of the lowest ranked books along with Vaggie’s “Men Are Pigs.”

 Alastor got his book revised by his associate Niffty and published by Husk (after bribing him with money and booze. Niffty had to help him with the publishing process and stop him from using his money to bet on who would win the local Hellhound races.) Alastor hopes that his book will soon topple Hell’s number one bestseller from the king of Hell: Lucifer Magne’s “Fall From Grace.”

  It has many passages that may be inaccurate, and it does warn the reader never to cross said Radio Demon, unless they’re curious about what their organs look like from the outside.

 The majority of this story is broadcasted on radio, for if all the info were piled in a book, it’d take several leagues of demons to carry it.

 There are many benefits to this book. This book is slightly cheaper than Angel Dust’s works and it has the word “Smile!” written in large friendly letters on the cover. In an old fashioned TV is the number 66, the meaning of life in Hell.

   Here’s what “The Radio Demon’s Guide to the Inferno” has to say about Jambalaya: (Page 14)

“Jambalaya is a traditional dish that originated in Louisiana in the 18th century. The dish was a result of attempts to make a variation of paella for Spanish colonists. Although the recipe was adapted by the Spanish, but Senegalese slaves brought the knowledge of rice cultivation form West Africa. German immigrants brought their secrets of sausage making to Cajun country. And one can’t forget the influence of French and Native Americans, whom contributed more flavor. (meaning they likely added peppers and seasoning, not their own flesh).

 “Jambalaya consists of rice, sausage, shrimp, and a variety of vegetables mixed together in a tasty gumbo. The “holy trinity” mixture consists of diced onion, celery, and bell peppers, a necessity for flavor in regards to the traditional method.

 Common meats used are smoked pork sausage, paired with chicken, though diced ham, shrimp, crabmeat or crawfish can also be added.

 There are two main types of Jambalaya: Red Jambalaya, also known as Creole Jambalaya, due to the use of red tomatoes and Brown Jambalaya, more often used in Cajun country. Both are equally tasty.

 Jambalaya is a rice dish, thus it is not a gumbo nor is it etouffee. Gumbo is more like soup and etouffee is more like a stew.

 Fun Fact: hunting is a beloved pastime in south Louisiana. It’s not uncommon for hunters to add game like duck, pheasant, and venison to their Jambalaya recipe. (Venison is my personal favorite, especially after a good hunt.) If you really want to go bold, feel free to add small slices of human meat to create a unique lighter pork flavor.)

 Do be warned: Jambalaya is no simple dish to make at times. It is a bad idea to add gunpowder and or wasabi to the dish. Doing so will likely result in the dish exploding in your poor mother’s face. Indeed, my mother’s recipe nearly killed her when she drank too much Southern Comfort Whisky ™ and decided that adding gunpowder was a great idea. Her face was burnt badly afterwards and there may have been a few slabs of her dark skin that fell into the dish. When I tasted it, the kick was straight outta Hell! The spice and chaotic spin of flavor…fantastic!”

 Here’s how to make it in a nutshell: brown your meat, sautee your vegetables, add rice, add liquid bring to a boil, stir, reduce heat and simmer for 20-25 minutes. Add them all together.

For full instructions, see the next page.

For instructions on how to hunt deer, see page 20.”

  Reference:

McCormick, “Jambalaya Recipes, History, and FAQs.”

https://www.mccormick.com/zatarains/jambalaya

  Here’s what “The Radio Demon’s Guide to the Inferno” has to say about Voodoo, Hoodoo and dark magic (Page 177)

“According to Benjamin Radford, Voodoo is a pop-culture subpart of Voudon, an Afro-Caribbean religion that originated in Haiti. Followers can be found all over the world, including the United States. Leslie Desmangles, Haitian professor at Hartford’s Trinity College describes Voodoo as a system of ethics, stories, songs, proverbs, and folklore that is passed down through generations. It is an elaborate folk medical practice system and to her, it is a way of life. (“The Encyclopedia of the Paranormal” Prometheus Books, 1996.)

 In Voodoo belief, Bondye is the unknowable and the supreme creator God. Voudon emphasizes the worship of spirits called Loa, each one who represents a different aspect of life. Loas can help or impede human affairs by possessing the bodies of their worshippers. They can be good or bad or anywhere in between, so it’s best to always treat them with respect and leave proper offerings (not human sacrifice but more like animals, plants, gems etc.) Spiritual possession in Christianity is considered to be evil, but not in Voudon. In a ceremony guided by a priest or priestess, a connection to the spirit world and the ancestors is said to be an invaluable experience. Many practitioners believe in reincarnation.

 Voodoo deities are as follows:

   Loa Nations:

Rada – (creation, orderly, beneficial, water spirits)

Petro – (destruction, aggressive, warlike, New World)

Ghede – (spirits of the dead, loud, rude fun family, eating glass and hot peppers)

Kongo – Marinette, Simbi (water serpents, plants, poisons)

Nago – Ogoun –Loa of craftsmen, metalwork

  Deities:

 Bondye: The creator god in the Voodoo religion and the loa answer to him. The loa serve as intermediaries between man and Bondye.

 Papa Legba:  Sun god Loa associated with the crossroads and serves as an intermediary between man and the spirit world. In some places, he is seen as a fertility god, portrayed with a large erect phallus. In other customs, he is a trickster, or he may be a protector of children. He is associated with red and black, portrayed as an old man with a straw hat accompanied by a dog. He is always the first god to be invoked in ceremonies.

 Kalfu: moon god and ruler of the night. Patron deity of sorcerers, and those who practice black magic. He rules bad luck, destruction, and injustices. His favorite drink is rum laced with gunpowder. He is often seen as a darker version of Papa Legba.

 Maman Brigitte: Loa associated with death and the underworld. She is the consort of Baron Samedi and is often represented by a black rooster. She is also considered a goddess of justice. Rum and hot peppers are her favorite diet.

Maman Brigitte is portrayed as a light-skinned woman with red hair, it is said that she could be descended from Brigid, the Celtic goddess of the hearth fires and domestic life.

 Baron Samedi: Husband of Maman Brigitte, Baron Samedi is the god of death and is both respected and feared as the keeper of cemeteries. He often appears skeletal, wearing a top hat and formal tails and dark glasses. He is also a god of resurrection; only he can welcome a soul to the realm of the dead.

He is known for lewd behavior, swearing, and mating with other women. He is connected to powerful acts of magic and is the leader of the Guede, the family of loa who work with the dead.

 Erzulie: goddess of beauty and love, epitome of femininity and womanhood. She represents the cosmic womb in which divinity and humanity are conceived. Erzulie often grieves that which she cannot obtain, and sometimes leaves a ceremony weeping. She is sometimes represented as a black Madonna and other times as an upper class woman in fine clothing and jewelry.

Her three husbands are the war god Ogun, the sea god Agwe and Damballah. Erzulie feels sadness due to the broken hearts of humans.

 Loco: The god of wild vegetation, herbs and fruits for killing or healing. He is also the patron deity of doctors and Voodoo priests. His wife is the market goddess Ayzian (also deity of Voodoo priestesses).

 Shango: God of fire, judge, fighter, symbolized by double-axe or ram’s horn.

 Ogun: War god Loa associated with blacksmiths, warriors, and justice. Practitioners call upon Ogun for matters related to war and conflict and likes offerings of male roosters and dogs. He is symbolized by an iron knife or machete and has a fondness for pretty women and rum.

Ogun stood as Ghede Nibo’s godfather and adopted him.

 Oya: goddess of wind, fire, sea, nature and sudden change.

 Damballah: The creator of gods and humanity who helped Bondye make the cosmos and is represented by a giant serpent. His coils shaped the heavens and earth and he is the keeper of knowledge, wisdom, and healing magic. Damballah looks after the crippled, albinos, and children. Erzulie is his consort. He loves silver. His son, Simbi is a white snake god who brings rain.

 Ayida: The goddess of the rainbow and primary wife to creator Damballah. The pair manifest as intertwined serpents. Ayida also serves as a fertility goddess. Her favorite offerings are white food. Ayizan, her daughter, is goddess of the marketplace and of initiation into the sacred truths, making her the head Mambo (Voodoo priestess.)

 Oshun: One of the Orishas, Oshun is a goddess connected to rivers and water. She is associated with wealth, pleasure, love, beauty, and sexuality. Oshun’s colors are orange and golden yellow, green and coral.

 Yemaya: motherly goddess of the sea

 Obatala: Goddess of the heavens, personification of creative energy: old with white hair

 Agwe: The god of the sea and patron deity of sailors and fishermen. Agwe taught humans how to fish and build boats. He is one of the husbands of the love goddess Erzulie. Agwe is green-eyed and dresses like a naval officer.

  Zaca: The god of agriculture and the harvest. He dresses in denims and a straw hat. Zaca smokes a pipe, drinks from bottles of rum and wields a machete.

 Marassa: Mawa and Lisa: divine twins: male and female energy, personify sun and moon

  Radford states that Roman Catholicism imposed their religious beliefs onto many civilizations, including African slaves. The Africans and African Americans combined Catholicism with their West African beliefs. A 1685 law forbade the practice of African religions in the U.S. In fact, slavery was accepted as a tool to convert Africans to Christianity. In the process, many of their spirits became associated with Christian saints.

 Even though slavery ended in the 1800’s, followers of Voudon were still persecuted by authorities, and their religion was demonized. In an 1889 book titled “Hayti, or the Black Republic” (Filiquarian, 2012), Voudon was falsely attributed to cannibalism, human sacrifice, and other atrocities. This helped to spread fear of the religion…portraying certain aspects like voodoo dolls, dark magic, zombies etc. in media and literature. Added onto that, it also strengthened racist stereotypes: African Americans were viewed as “primal,” and “savage,” due to their practices and behaviors as perceived by those outside their culture.

 Voodoo has gained more respect in modern times, but all too many people don’t know the truth about it. Even today, many Christians associate Voudon and Voodoo with Satanism and the occult. Interestingly enough, voodoo dolls have little to do with the actual rituals.

 Here’s how I found out about Voodoo. It started a long time ago back when I was alive. My mother Loretta was Creole, and her ancestors came from Haiti. She told me that my grandmother Antoinette Duvalier was a powerful Voodoo priestess who once lived in Haiti but immigrated to the U.S. as a slave. Even though she was treated like dirt by the predominant owners and whites, she was well respected by those who knew her. Legend states that she was related to Marie LaLaurie, (1787-1849), New Orleans serial killer, cruel to Creole slaves. In fact, my cousin is Clementine Barnabet, a Louisiana voodoo priestess and serial killer, killed families with an axe.

  Needless to say, my mother followed in her footsteps as much as possible. Though during her life, she mostly had to work in low level secretary jobs as women didn’t have many opportunities. She taught me everything there was to know about Voodoo, cooking, singing, sewing, (and yes, cannibalism in dire circumstances, though she didn’t like to talk about that.) She warned me multiple times that magic was, indeed, real, and to never use it for evil. There were “evil” Loas as well as “good” ones. She told me that Voodoo wasn’t about cannibalism or sacrifice.

 As you can imagine, I didn’t listen in the long run. For several reasons.

 One was my father, Louis. A white, strong man with black hair, a mustache and French heritage. He constantly tried to shove the Bible down my throat. He would whip and abuse me whenever I didn’t meet his expectations of being a man. That bastard would sleep with other women behind my mother’s back but of course, she couldn’t do anything about it.

 I was scared of him. I was tempted to cry whenever he would hit her for no apparent reason. But both my parents told me to always smile, so I did. I’ve learned to hide my emotions and keep up a façade ever since. It’s necessary when you’re a radio host by day and a serial killer by night. Nobody would suspect a friendly comedian to be the Bayou Butcher/Louisiana Lunatic of New Orleans. It’s how I managed to get away with my actions for so long until my brutal death by dogs and being shot in the head.

 Two was the opportunity for power. I learned that in a hard life of bullying at school, and blatant racism for being of mixed heritage, you take any opportunity that comes your way.

 I was so caught up in the prospects of deal making that even I started to believe the cannibalism and misconceptions of Voodoo.

Basically, I came across a Satanic ritual book dropped by a group of imps from Hell on accident. It was in this book that I learned about spells, cannibalism, and black magic. I came upon a passage with instructions on how to gain near unlimited power in the afterlife. I made a deal with Kalfu and the Petro Loas of destruction. (My mother supported the benevolent Rada like I did once.) It was a risky one: to gain such power, I would have to bear witness to at least three deaths, a victim, a loved one…and myself. Turns out it all happened, after I killed many victims in Kalfu’s name, and when I eventually died. My mother died from the Spanish Flu and my father got what he deserved after I tracked him down and tortured him. Strangely enough, whether it’d be guilt or his meat I ate, I felt sick for several days afterwards.

 My deal with Kalfu and the dark Loas was how I got my current powers in Hell. You probably noticed my use of blood magic and how red voodoo symbols hover in the air whenever I use my powers. Not to mention me having control over voodoo imps, dolls, and shadow spirits. I am quite powerful, but I can’t use too much at once…it can be very taxing to use dark magic. But that deal was well worth it and now I make deals with other demons around at times. It’s how I got Husk and Niffty on my side…I summon them and they have no choice but to assist me!”

  References:

Radford, Benjamin, (2013). “Voodoo: Facts About Misunderstood Religion” LiveScience. https://www.livescience.com/40803-voodoo-facts.html

https://www.white-magic-help.net/About_White_Magic/Voodoo_History_Basic_Principles_Background.html

https://www.learnreligions.com/voodoo-gods-4771674

© Edward Wozniak and Balladeer’s Blog 2014. https://glitternight.com/2014/08/13/the-top-eleven-deities-in-voodoo-mythology/

      Here’s what “The Radio Demon’s Guide to the Inferno” has to say about Cannibalism (Page 65)

 “Along with deer meat, jambalaya and many other kinds of food, I also have a rare fondness for eating humans and demons. You’re probably thinking: ‘Oh god, how gross and horrible! Who in their right mind would eat their own kind?’

Apparently, there are some tribes and a few cultures in the world that still engage in the practice. Not to mention several killers throughout the years. There are many kinds of animals such as the cane toad and redneck spider, who eat their own kind.  Human ancestors have engaged in the act for survival, or ritual purposes. And in Hell, it’s as common as getting into fights with other demons.

 In early history of human species, human and Neanderthals coexisted together, interbred, ate together and sometimes ate each other. Homo antecessor, the last common ancestor between Neanderthals and modern humans would often eat rival group members. Early humans in Europe practiced ritual cannibalism.

 Around the 12th century, human remains were incorporated into medical practices for remedies. “Corpse medicine” remained in use until the late 18th century. The Aztec and the Inca engaged in cannibalism as part of a sacrificial religious rite. In Germany, some executioners would sell leftover body parts as medicine. Human fat was sold as a remedy for arthritis and broken bones. Apothecaries stored fat, flesh and bone…and let’s not forget that some people eat their own placentas in modern times.

 The word “cannibalism” comes from the name that the Spanish gave to the Caribs/Canibales. The Caribs were engaged in anti-colonial battles with European powers…claiming they were cannibals may have been a fear propaganda tactic by the Spanish.

In Montaigne’s late 1500s essay “Of Cannibals,” shows an anthropological record of the Tupi people in what is now Brazil. They would taunt their captives by “entertain[ing] them with threats of their own death.”

 In early America, while some Native American tribes practiced cannibalism, some colonists had to resort to it, such as the Jamestown colony in 1610.

But the public commonly associates cannibalism with the Donner-Party, groups of people that were snowbound in the Sierra Mountains in 1846-47.

 Famine in the USS in the 1920s and 30s took millions of lives and forced survivors to turn to cannibalism, an event known as the Great Chinese Famine.

In modern times, cannibalism is still an acceptable practice in some tribes in New Guinea, like the Korowai tribe. Until the 1950s, the Fore people ate the bodies of relatives as they believed it would cleanse their spirits.

  Also, do not try self-cannibalism…you will die and I will find it hilarious. In fact, eating humans is considered taboo nearly everywhere because eating humans can make you sick. This is especially true if you eat the brain. Eating the brain can cause kuru, a brain disease similar to mad cow disease. Like any kind of meat, human meat much be properly cooked and prepared. But as I’m an undead demon, I can eat myself and others no problem. I don’t really know how I managed to survive when I ate my victims more often when I was human.

 There are tons of ways to prepare humans and demons and I have used them all:

Baking in the oven

Grilling

Frying in a pan

Steaming in a pot

Barbeque

Cooking over a fire pit

Chopping them on a board and eating raw pieces

Swallowing whole

  References:

Edwards, Phil. (2015) “& Surprising Facts About Cannibalism” Vox. https://www.vox.com/2015/2/17/8052239/cannibalism-surprising-facts

 Talal Al-Khatib (May 13, 2015) “Cannibalism: A History of People Who Eat People.” Seeker. https://www.seeker.com/cannibalism-a-history-of-people-who-eat-people-1769840684.html

 (Using a website with Vox’s name on it…life is a big slap in the face.)

 Here’s what “The Radio Demon’s Guide to the Inferno” has to say about Radio Broadcasting (Page 5)

“Many folks call me the Radio Demon for good reason. One of my signature skills is the ability to broadcast what goes on around me anytime, anywhere. I’ve always loved being on center stage…I was a bit of a theater nut back in primary school. Fun fact: My shadow and I can travel through radios and produce static in the outside world in Hell.

 One of the neat things about being a radio host is you can spread news to anyone in different places in the world���and no one even has to see you. In my human life, it provided me with a stable career and something to occupy my mind. My favorite things to talk about were dad jokes, cooking food, singing songs, and of course, murders that had happened. My broadcasts had to go underground when my descriptions of murders became graphic, both when I did them and when other killings were reported on the news.

 My career wasn’t easy to start off with…it was quite a competitive business and I was lucky to start off as a janitor and radio repair man for a few years. My dad thought it was a worthless job but my mother supported me all the way. I slowly moved up the ladder, learning more techniques as I went along. Soon, I decided I would start my own show…become self-employed. My career really reached its peak during World War One and the start of the Roaring Twenties. I could describe all the casualties of the war to the public, talk about my own victims to my followers, all while ending with “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile,” my favorite song! I felt like I was on top of the world…not even my dad nor the ignorant folk could stop me. Like many people during the age of jazz and splendor, I basked in riches, ate good food and drinks…had tons of ladies at my feet. They were good friends, and even better victims! I was never interested in sex and romance…too many messy emotions. I didn’t want to be touched and nor down by anybody.  (Thanks a lot, father.)

 All this was before the police found me, my show was canceled, and my beloved radios destroyed by those seeking revenge. I smiled, I fell from grace, and I died during the Great Depression. Life really does have a twisted sense of humor.”  

 Experimental radio broadcasting began at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York City, 1910 with a program made by Lee De Forest. The WWJ Detroit station is considered the first radio station in the U.S. The National Broadcasting Company (NBC) presented the first national broadcast in 1926, when I was in my late twenties. From 1925 to 1950, radios were a major source of family entertainment, where people could listen to music, stories, and the news. The success of NBC brought the Columbia Broadcasting System (CBS) into creation by William Paley.

 Some radio stations transmit radio signals using amplitude modulation, which became the term for AM radio. AM broadcasts can be received at long distances, but the signals and sound are affected by static. In contrast, other stations transmit signals using frequency modulation, hence the initial FM. FM waves reproduce sound better.

 I died in 1933 when radio was popular. But my rival, Vox (name means Voice in Latin) died in the 1950s, when television was becoming popular. He hosted his own program and did picture shows seemingly all the time. I remember him: tall, white skinned, slick short dark hair, eyes the color of dull metal. He advertised drugs, phones, cars, and a whole bunch of things…he enjoyed money a lot. Anything new he liked, new toys, new tech, new girls, then when they didn’t work, he’d replace them. Made me sick.

 In Hell, I confronted him once and told him he was a big showoff. I was quite mad that picture shows took over radio…he even called me an outdated geek with a voice of static! He had this stupid robotic voice that I couldn’t take seriously. When he shot me in the head from behind, I had enough. I held him in place with black tentacles, figuring out how he died. Then I heard someone mention his death…

So…with a loud crash, a large TV appeared out of nowhere and crushed his stupid face. I was doubling over with laughter as I left, he picked himself up and yelled, his screen face all cracked.

 So, what should you do in Hell? Listen to the radio, of course! Picture shows are fun as well, but even they can’t beat the classic radio. I know you techno folk flock to TV’s and computers thanks to Vox…both are annoying in my opinion. But radios are a great source of entertainment, especially when I’m on the air. My show starts at 6AM and 6PM every other day at 66.6FM. You can find radios in a whole bunch of stores and at the Hazbin Hotel…and if you’re brave, you can find cursed ones at the Black Market (all owned by me of course). If any demon gives you trouble, you can turn the dials a bit and the radio will either crush them or suck them inside. But be careful…listening for too long may cause you to sing, dance, experience your fears, and stab anyone within six feet of you.  I have plenty of radios in my lair in the shadow world beneath Hell, but you’ll never be able to go there. But just say the word and I’ll gladly store your remains in my icebox.”

 References:

“Broadcasting: The History of Radio” https://law.jrank.org/pages/4873/Broadcasting-History-Radio.html

   Here’s what “The Radio Demon’s Guide to the Inferno” has to say about Sewing Voodoo Dolls (Page 38)

 “I have made tons of voodoo dolls both as a human and in Hell. I have my own collection of ones that resemble Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty and many others. Niffty helps me sometimes after she helps make me more clothes. Don’t tell anyone this, but I secretly snuggle with a doll I made to resemble my mother. She briefly went to Hell in the form of a powerful voodoo deer, but went up to Heaven before I got a chance to see her. It’s been decades.”

 Here’s what “The Radio Demon’s Guide to the Inferno” has to say about Jazz (Page 72)

 “Music has always held a special place in my heart. Growing up in New Orleans, I was surrounded by jazz, live music, and theater. Playing instruments, singing, dancing, and performing were not just fun pastimes. Doing these hobbies also helped during certain times. Take the Great Depression or the Roaring Twenties or my way to bask in the spotlight as examples. I can play lots of instruments: piano, saxophone, trumpet, violin and furby organ. If you don’t know what that is, it’s an organ made from furry robotic toys made by this “LOOK MUM NO COMPUTER” human.”

    According to the National Park Service et al., the early development of jazz (1895) is associated with Charles “Buddy” Bolden, a popular bandleader. Throughout the 19th century, diverse ethnical groups cumulated their cultures and styles together, creating an evolution in music. Musicians of diverse backgrounds were united by their common love of music.

 One of my role models was real life Edward “Kid” Ory, a guy who lead his own band at age 14 and entertained dancers. He was the son of a White Frenchman and a Creole Woman of Afro-Spanish and Native American heritage, pretty much like me. I’m surprised we aren’t related. During my human life, I played in bands at Economy Hall, a dance hall that provided social services such as brass band dances for the Black Community. Many well-known jazz stars included real life Louis Armstrong, Joe Oliver, Johnny and Warren Dodds etc. During the Jazz Age in the 1920s, I was quite busy indeed with radio broadcasting career, playing jazz, performing at clubs and killing people on the side in the name of Kalfu and Satan. Music helped me get through the loss of my mother’s death via the Spanish Flu. I did also get my revenge on my father and uncle but that’s a story for another time.”

  References:

National Park Service. (2015) A New Orleans Jazz History https://www.nps.gov/jazz/learn/historyculture/jazz_history.htm

  Here’s what “The Radio Demon’s Guide to the Inferno” has to say about the Exterminations (Page 665)

“The annual Exterminations sure are fun to watch! It’s the one day out of the year where the dark angels travel from Heaven and into Hell to purge the citizens at random. This is done to reduce the abnormally high population down here. During the 24 hours, I relax in the safety of my lair, occasionally going up to watch the slaughters from inside a building, Niffty and Husk by my side. I broadcast what goes on so other demons can have their share of entertainment. Not only am I in a safe place, but anytime the Exterminators try and surround me, I just tear them to pieces, throw them into portals or just scare them off by staring at them. There is a collection of horned Exterminator heads I have for decoration along my mantle and near the stuffed deer heads on display. Their sinister smiles and Xs over their right eyes adds to the place. Niffty sometimes comes down to my lair to help spruce it up and even when she leaves, a strong spell ensures that she will never tell anyone about its location.”

 Someday when I rule Hell, the Exterminators will be the ones who are exterminated. Exterminators carry spears, swords, and harpoons which can kill any demon instantly. So I always try to be careful. I know that some demons can sell them on the black market so they can kill their enemies. I have several of them in a safe to use in emergencies.

 What should you do in an Extermination? Stock up and lock up, if you’re smart. Make sure you have plenty of food, drinks and things to keep you entertained during the 24 hours. And be sure to get the stuff early unless you want to fight a dozen sinners for groceries. Exterminators fly in the open, so barricade yourself in a building with few windows and openings. If you’re unlucky enough to be out in the open, run for your life and say your prayers! You will know when it starts by the sounds of air raid sirens. When it is over, Charlie will go out to her balcony and shoot fireworks in the sky, signaling that it’s safe to go out. Feel free to fight for territory, sing, grab a drink or feast on the deceased…but get in my way and you’ll regret it.”

  Here’s what “The Radio Demon’s Guide to the Inferno” has to say about Taking Over Territory (Page 187)

“When I first came to Hell, I was filled with bloodlust and dark power. Excited to be granted a new form by the shadow spirits, Satan and the Loas, I took full advantage. I toppled overlords who had ruled for centuries, and I broadcast my carnage and victories. I defeated that snake lord guy and grew my supernatural army. Many of the previous overlords didn’t have much magical power or they were easily fooled by my speeches and schemes.

 But I knew that just having shadows at my beck and call weren’t enough. I needed corporeal demons to do my deeds as well. Thus I made deals with Husk, Niffty, and several others. Niffty admired me and my powers the moment I summoned her from the flames of the burning lake and into a fireplace at the hotel. She was happy to be free from the fires. My appearance and charming nature had her blushing and flustered. I told her she can do the things she enjoys: cooking, cleaning, sewing, reading and writing. Husk was more reluctant to serve me but I bribed him with money and booze… promising him “wealth and true love.” Both are beneficial: Niffty is quick on her feet and Husk is strong and good at gambling. Oh, it sure is fun to mess around with them.

 Additionally, I spend time with my dear friend and performer Mimzy and Rosie, a fellow overlord. All three of us are pretty close. The demons know that I’ve conquered a territory by the presence of tall radio towers nearby. Or whenever some demons go to a certain area, they encounter some voodoo creatures and shadows who warn them to stay away.”

 How do you take over territory? Choose your battles well. Don’t rush into a fight thinking you can win. Gather allies or if you’re powerful enough, just rely on yourself. The time right after the Extermination is the ideal time to claim land since many demons have perished. It’s also when many other demons fight over different areas. It’s fun to hear about it on the picture shows, especially when I’m mentioned.”

 Here’s what “The Radio Demon’s Guide to the Inferno” has to say about Asexuality (Page 221)

 “Some of you may or may not know this, but I’m asexual and aromantic. I’m not interested in sex nor romantic relationships with either men or women. Many of you fans have shipped me with Charlie and Angel and pretty much every other demon in Hell. Tell me mortals…why in the nine circles would I ever be into my rival Vox, or a pathetic loner scientist…or Hell forbid, Lucifer? Charlie is a lovely lady and a good friend, but if she’s no use to me for my plans in the long run, then she’s not worth it. And Angel…he’s alright, if not annoying and clingy. He invades my personal space and I certainly do not want to know what goes on in his perverted head. I’d rather get shot a dozen times than allow Angel to lay his hands on me (who knows where they’ve been). I don’t really love anyone, save for myself and my mama. It’s just the way I am.

 In my time, sexuality terms did not exist. Anyone with an abnormal obsession with the opposite sex was called heterosexual. And homosexual was a derogatory term for those who were outside the norm in regards to sexuality. It was bad enough that my father and uncle chided me for not being into girls and sex like a “real man” should. The thought of merging my body with someone else’s was gross. I invade personal space, but I feel repulsed when other’s touch me…it’s like I’m not in control in the situation. Plus, even if I wanted to have sex, there’s no point as sinners can’t reproduce down here. And I don’t like to be tied down…having to accommodate my needs for someone. Aside from dancing, having the occasional dinner with someone nice, there are better things to do in my time than typical romantic antics.  I learned very early on in my life that the only person I could really trust was myself…Alastor. It wasn’t hard to put up a charming exterior to make many women fall for me…including my dear friend Mimzy. The other women and men who stayed around for a while got tied up in my basement and screamed as I stabbed them and split their throats. Hey, you never know who will come into your life.”  

   Asexuality is defined as a lack of sexual attraction. Asexuals are not sexually attracted to anyone. Those who are aromantic are not romantically attracted to anyone. However, like sexual individuals, asexuals are different and have their own needs and levels of comfort. Some asexuals might be romantically attracted to males, females, or both. Others might desire intimacy and many are in relationships with asexuals and sexual individuals. Sadly, many asexuals feel broken and out of place due to cultural portrayals of sexuality in the media and other institutions.

References:

https://lgbt.williams.edu/homepage/10-things-you-need-to-know-about-asexuality/

Asexuality Visibility and Education Network. https://www.asexuality.org/

[kny111]

Yesterday, November 21 2019, a divination occurs by my altar. I’m walking and have one tab open in phone on the Navy’s encounter with what they call UAP (Unidentified Aerial Phenomena) near the staff that’s appointed to Papa Legba, the opener of roads, pathways, different outcomes. A little bit about this staff, I found it during a forest meditative walk and saw a bunch of sticks that belonged to mostly dumped christmas trees. The one I found had these cool lichen shapes on it that one end reading up, the bigger lichen towards the bottom resembles a person smoking and creating smoke signals, and the signals themselves I always said look like 80s, 8s, 808s.

I mistakingly stepped near the staff with enough force to make it move and when it did it slid over to the “Indigenous Interception“ painting which itself is part of my Indigenx/Afro-Indigenx/ Ancestral spirit altar. So this made me want to look deeper into these recently reported on events and read it differently with my spiritually perceptive side (I read it originally with that scientifically minded side more so than anything else) that considers numerology as a means of communicating. So up until yesterday (11/21/2019) I had no idea that months before, the Navy had reported on ‘pill shaped‘ UAPs showing up with technology never before seen or available. Down to describing its effect on the water as making it churn (an effect the craft in my painting had and I spent extra time making sure the effect of water churning was clearly visible). This stuff was reported on around 2017 of December, I did the painting on August 26 of 2017 (8/26[=8]/2017), 3 months before this UAP stuff was known to the public like myself. I had no knowledge of any of this when I painted that.

Here’s where it got weirder for me and I still donno what to make of it, you can fact check me on this and search up the days that it was my birthday right on here with the days these things were being posted up on my social media like when the paintings were posted and when the events with the UAP occurred. It got odd when I looked up when this stuff really happened and it turned out to be way further back but was reported on in late 2017 December, it occurred in 2004 on guess what day? November 10 = 11/10 (=21) my birthday! I must have been 17. So on this day in the west coast of San Diego, California, confirmed by military personale within the Navy as real footage showing several crafts from a fleet of giant pill shaped UAPs appearing to exhibit mindblowingly advanced technology that made our current airforce seem like toys - This happened from 11/10 to 11/16. And yesterday 11/21 that divination occurs with the staff and the “Indigenous Interception“ painting which had me reading about this incident more deeply and found these numbers that lead me to.. my birthday? Lol honestly I don’t even know.

[the-master-cylinder]

SUMMARY The story centers on Diana “Sugar” Hill (Bey), a photographer in Houston whose boyfriend, nightclub owner Langston (Larry D. Johnson), has been killed by mob boss Morgan (Robert Quarry) and his men when he refused to sell the club to Morgan. Sugar seeks the help of a former voodoo queen named Mama Maitresse (Zara Cully) to take revenge on Morgan and his thugs. Mama summons the voodoo lord of the dead, Baron Samedi (Don Pedro Colley), who enlists his army of zombies to destroy the men who killed Langston and now want the club. Investigating the killings is Sugar’s former boyfriend, police Lt. Valentine (Richard Lawson).

DEVELOPMENT/PRODUCTION The film, budgeted at $350,000, was shot on location in Houston at such locations as the Heights branch of the Houston Public Library (a historical landmark), used in the film as a “Voodoo Institute”. Sugar Hill was the last film Quarry did for AIP, after a run that included the Count Yorga movies. Also appearing in the film was Cully, who played Mama Jefferson on the TV show The Jeffersons. Charles P. Robinson, known for his role as Mac Robinson on NBC’s Night Court, portrayed the character of Fabulous. Hank Edds created the makeup effects for the zombies in the film.

Actress Marki Bey “researched her part among various voodoo cults in and around the L.A. environs; thereby acquiring the proper authoritative menace to make her role as a voodoo high priestess believable.”

Rumor has it that the afro-style hairdo worn by the character Diana Hill during the zombie attack sequences was because Marki Bey didn’t look “black enough” while wearing her hair flat and relaxed.

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Actor Don Pedro Colley also did extensive research in the voodoo practices from Haiti for his role as Baron Samedi. According to Colley, “This character was based more or less on the actual voodoo character that comes from Haiti…Papa Legre, who is all powerful, all omnipotent. Throughout the voodoo culture Papa Legre is the one single heavyweight dude.”

I’m supposed to be playing a voodoo god rising from the grave with an army of zombies. So I said, “Well, let me go back into my old theater bag of tricks here and do what I’m supposed to do. Let me do a lot of research.’ So I got several books from the library. One was written by two anthropologists that had studied voodoo religions around the world and another was written by a practitioner of voodoo from Haiti. This character was based more or less on the actual voodoo character that comes from Haiti. The Haitian characters name is Papa Legre, who is all powerful, all omnipotent. Throughout the voodoo culture Papa Legre is the one single heavyweight dude. My character’s name was Baron Samedi. It went through how the rituals of voodoo work. For those who believe in it, things can actually happen, good or bad. A woman hates her old man so she goes through a voodoo priestess who puts a hex on him and he ends up dying of a horrible disease or a heart attack or a car crash. By filling a glass with alcohol and burning chicken feathers and spiders and lighting incense and doing chants on a daily basis. The two scientists related voodoo rituals to others rituals that take place in other religions, such as the Catholic religion, the burning of the incense, the drinking of the blood, the wafer, the bread of God. These are rituals that are really taken right out of voodoo rituals. And relating the singing from the Baptist or Episcopalian or Presbyterian religions, even the Muslims and the Sikhs, all of the rituals all had a basis in the early African voodoo tribal religion that came west from the tribes of Africa when the slaves were brought. So I said, ‘I’ve now got all this information. I’m going to make Baron Samedi scary, boy is he going to be scary.””

Robert Quarry reflects on making “Sugar Hill”. The producer and the director Paul Maslansky were both white, and, of course, it was an all-black movie. They had a black actor set for the part, but they got rid of him, and Sam sent me in to take the part. So I walked in as ‘Mr. Whitey’ to play the head of the Mafia in Houston, which is where they shot it. I didn’t give a shit. They paid me. And during the shoot, my rich white friends in Houston wouldn’t call me because they thought I’d bring somebody black to lunch with me. The racism was that subtle. And, of course, they hired so many blacks for the movie, and here I was saying things like ‘nigger’ and ‘jig’ and ‘jungle bunny.’ The extras who weren’t actors were going to kill me because they thought I was a big racist. But I won them over eventually. And we all laughed so hard. I’d tell them all on the set, ‘Okay, easy fellas, get ready because I’m going to say the ‘n’ word again.” One of the locations was this mansion that looked like it had been abandoned for a hundred years. It even had an elevator in it. It had been abandoned for ten or fifteen years. The place was full of cobwebs and dust, it was really quite neat. The only thing I objected to is, here I am starring in this movie and I’m being treated like a peon. Here they are paying me 750 dollars a week and I’m starring in this bloody mess. Union law states that when the performers travel, they travel first class and they stay in a first class hotel and when they work on the set they have a first class dressing room. In Houston, I didn’t have any dressing room. It was like 95% humidity. It was 95 degrees every day. They were talking about having me stand behind a car in the street to change clothes. Forget it! So I went out and rented a forty foot motor home and I drove it to the set and the producer went bugo, he went off – ‘You can’t do that! You can’t drive that here! We have to put a union driver on that. We have to pay the union drivers a thousand a week and…’ And I said, ‘Wait a minute. Are you telling me that a driver of my motor home makes more money a week than I do and I’m starring in this piece of shit!?” I said, ‘I’m going to keep this until you provide me with a dressing room and in the mean time I’m calling the union and letting them know exactly what you people are doing down here.’ That’s what they did at American International. They exploited everybody.

The performers playing the zombies in Sugar Hill wore ping pong balls cut in half over their eyes, creating the cartoonish, yet eerie effect. Other sources say the eyes were created with broken-off spoon halves.

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SCORE/SOUNDTRACK

Supernatural Voodoo Woman Written by Dino Fekaris & Nick Zesses Sung by The Originals

CAST/CREW Directed Paul Maslansky

Produced Elliot Schick

Written Tim Kelly

Marki Bey as Diana Hill Robert Quarry as Morgan Don Pedro Colley as Baron Samedi Betty Anne Rees as Celeste Richard Lawson as Valentine Zara Cully as Mama Maitresse Charles P. Robinson as Fabulous Larry D. Johnson as Langston Rick Hagood as Tank Watson Ed Geldart as O’Brien Albert J. Baker as George Raymond E. Simpson, III as King Thomas C. Carroll as Baker Big Walter Price as Preacher

CREDITS/REFERENCES/SOURCES/BIBLIOGRAPHY Fangoria#64 Psychotronic Video#31 Psychotronic Video#33 TCM

Sugar Hill (1974) Retrospective SUMMARY The story centers on Diana "Sugar" Hill (Bey), a photographer in Houston whose boyfriend, nightclub owner Langston (Larry D.