#muhammad ali jr x reader

[mothwingwritings]

Question?!💕 Okay anyways LOLZ!😂 What if Muhammad Ali Jr. meets Yujiro's daughter, and Baki faces Muhammad and finds out he already met his sister? How would Baki react when Muhammad comments some "things" about his sister appearance, and mannerisms? And also what would Yujiro think about all this mess? Would he get jealous or be amused?

Btw I LOVEEEE your Baki fanfics!💓

Mr. Ali Jr is going to get kicked in the dick SO HARD that man will either A. No longer have a dick, or B. Have a concave dick for the rest of his life as a reminder of how dumb he was to ever fuck with Baki's darling sister. :)

Joking aside though, I really feel like Baki would let him talk his shit and make his comments. Go ahead and whisper about how good (name)'s ass looks in those jeans, or talk about how nice your plush lips would feel around his cock. Make insinuations about how easy you seem, or snide little observations about the swing of your hips when you walk. The more shit he talks the more fun it will be for Baki to absolutely beat his sorry ass to a pulp in front of EVERYBODY. And guess what? When Ali Jr. is beat half to death, blubbering in unimaginable pain, it's going to be Baki that gets to go home with you and enjoy your company. And he intends to fully enjoy his time with you, being pampered and doted on for being your strong champion. <3

As for Yujiro... It's a mixed bag. Muhammad's father is one of the few people Yujiro truly respects, and as such, he doesn't treat Ali Jr with the disrespect and contempt he treats most people. I think he would be pretty amused with Ali's flirting, maybe even commend him on his good taste. But the moment he takes it a step too far and either asks you on serious date or (god forbid) tries to put his hands on you in some way, that boy will be knocked out so hard his ass won't know what hit him. Since he would want to at least try and avoid killing him, Yujiro will instead make sure to put him a coma so that he's out of the picture for a very long time. :)

[baki-tiene-un-simp]

Paternidad (2)

Más publicaciones de Instagram, porque fuera de toda la vanidad qué hay, también hay cosas graciosas que involucran niños :D

Baki Hanma.

Katou Kiyosumi.

Muhammad Ali Jr.

[sl33paholics]

Why Can't You Love Me Back?

Yan!Ali Jr x black!fem!reader

Warning(s): General yandere behavior, stalking, harassment

"Leave me the fuck alone."

Was something you said to the man you were once a fan of weeks ago, but how did it get to this point?

The famous Ali Jr., the son of the world's greatest boxers of all time, Muhammad Ali, was hitting on you. You always attended the boxing events where he was the main star fighting with someone else in the ring. Amidst the roar of the crowd and the energy of the fights, Ali Jr.'s charismatic approach caught you off guard. His attempts at flirtation carried a unique intensity, a blend of confidence inherited from his legendary father and a genuine interest that hinted at more than just a passing connection.

In the afterglow of the boxing spectacle, the buzzing excitement persisted as you finally found yourself face-to-face with Ali Jr. out of all the eager fans getting pictures and autographs. His attention shifted toward you, his gaze holding a certain recognition. To Jr., it was love at first sight. Your beauty seemed to have cast a spell, making that moment more than just a fleeting exchange in the afterglow of fame. With autograph and picture in hand, you left the buzzing scene, hyped up, and pumped that you got to meet the man you always wanted to see. However, unaware that this seemingly ordinary encounter would soon be one that you regret.

On his way back to the hotel, in the dimly lit interior of the limo, Ali Jr. couldn't help but replay the encounter in his mind. The city lights blurred outside the tinted windows as the hum of the engine provided a backdrop to his thoughts. "You seem to be deep in thought, sir," his driver would say, making a casual observation. Breaking from his thoughts, Ali Jr. met the driver's gaze with a thoughtful smile. "Yeah, I met this pretty lady at the after show, I hope to see her again." He'd simply say, looking out the window.

As more events happened, he'd see you in the crowd cheering him on. Your crop top hugging your breasts as you held up a large sign with his name on it, your presence alone made him want to win the fight just for you, and you only. It encouraged Ali Jr. to throw another harsh jab at his opponent just to show off how strong he was to you.

So when he asked you for your socials and phone number when the event ended, it caught you off guard, but of course, you couldn't deny the offer. He was your favorite!

It started off with a few compliments and replies to his Instagram story until it turned into full-blown conversations. Now, you could tell he was flirting with you through these messages, but you didn't give that same energy to him. Which he noticed, but Ali Jr. brushed it off and believed you were too oblivious to notice it via text.

On days free from the whirlwind of boxing events, Ali Jr. found solace in spending time with you. He'd whisk you away on rides, the city's pulse blending with the engine's hum as you explored streets together. You watched him spar at the gym with other inspiring and upcoming boxers. Ali Jr. would tell you stories of his childhood and his famous father.

To you, you only saw him as a man who wanted to become close with one of his dearest fans turned friend. Although, to Ali Jr., he saw this as an opportunity to court you and potentially ask you to become his girlfriend.

When the moment arrived, you surprised the boxer with a straightforward rejection. "I appreciate the time we've spent, but I gotta boyfriend, and I'm committed to our relationship. Let's keep things friendly," you conveyed. The honesty in your words made his mind go blank. Was it shock? Was it anger? He couldn't tell. Jr. stared at you with a terrified look. "Did I do something wrong?" Ali would ask. "No! Not at all, it's just that I'm not interested in you like that. At all. You're a cool guy with tons of skills, I just don't see myself being with you. Let's stay platonic."

Since then, he's been out of his mind. Those texts stopped for a while, and then it started to get excessive out of nowhere. Just leaving your phone down for a short time can have this man sending you over 50 messages. You no longer answer his calls. You told everyone around you of your encounter and called him "a weirdo." It was exhausting.

So many voicemails from this guy alone. Over a hundred messages, most of them are Ali asking why you aren't picking up his calls or not responding. The guy's voice ranges from pleading to frustration, and the tone is unmistakably hurt. Each message seems to carry a weight of its own, painting a portrait of a man grappling with the realization that his feelings are not reciprocated as he had hoped.

You can't even walk peacefully around the city without this man somehow finding you. It's as if he's always just around the corner, his eyes scanning the crowds for a glimpse of you. The encounters are awkward, filled with a mix of longing and resentment as Ali Jr. struggles to come to terms with your decision.

Now, you don't know how he found your address, but he's been sending you a ton of gifts lately. Surprisingly, they're things you always wanted, each one arriving with a little note attached. The notes are heartfelt, expressing his regrets and other times it's obvious flirtation. It's as if each gift is an attempt to bridge the gap created by your rejection, a silent plea for another chance. Sometimes, Ali isn't so heartfelt in those messages whenever your boyfriend comes to receive them at your front door.

Ali's messages become less heartfelt in those instances, almost passive-aggressive, hinting at a desire to undermine your current relationship. The gifts, once symbols of his remorse, now carry an undertone of possessiveness and jealousy, as if he's trying to assert his presence in your life despite your clear boundaries. The situation grows increasingly uncomfortable as the boundary between genuine remorse and manipulation blurs. It came to a point where your boyfriend begged you to go talk to the man after seemingly being followed by some of his men at one point nearby the residence.

Ali was so giddy to get a text from you agreeing to meet him late into the evening. His excitement was palpable as he hastily made his way to the rendezvous point. The night air was charged with anticipation, and every passing moment seemed to stretch into eternity as he waited for your arrival. It was a chance for him to express his feelings and plead his case once more, hoping that this meeting would be the turning point in your relationship. When he saw you approaching, he was going in for a hug only for you to move him away with your hand.

"(Y/N), I'm so happy to see you! I-I thought you hated me, so I sent you the gifts, and it seems like they worked," Ali exclaimed as he approached you, a mix of relief and excitement in his voice. His words tumbled out in a rush, betraying his nervousness. The gifts, once a gesture of his longing and remorse, now seemed to have shifted the dynamic between you. As he stood before you, his eyes searched yours, hoping to find a spark of forgiveness or understanding in your gaze. "Listen, Ali, what can't you understand?" You sighed, scratching your elbows. "I'm not interested in you at all." The words hung heavy in the air, punctuating the tension between you. Ali's expression shifted from excitement to disappointment, his features contorting in a mix of hurt and disbelief. The reality of your rejection seemed to sink in, casting a shadow over the hopeful anticipation that had fueled his eagerness to meet you.

"I won't accept that for an answer." Ali would say, making you raise a brow. "I spent my die-hard money on those gifts to make you happy. We went out together, called each other, and we texted each other every day!" Ali grabbed your shoulders, giving them a firm grip. "And you suddenly stop replying to me? You had me sick and worried. No texts back, no calls back, NOTHING! Why did I have to resort to shit like this?!"

"You stupid ass! You harassed me after I rejected you to be your girlfriend. I told you I have a boyfriend. Sorry to hurt your feelings, but that doesn't mean you have to blow up my PHONE!" you exclaimed, your frustration boiling over. Pointing your index finger at Ali, you made your feelings clear, leaving him looking at you in shock. "Somehow getting my address and sending stuff I didn't ask for? Your men following (B/N)?" The accusations hung in the air, the intensity of your words reflecting the depth of your exasperation. The two of you went back and forth, of course people around the area watched you two bicker at one another, some even recording.

"I'll say this once, leave me the fuck alone. I don't want you near me again," you stated firmly, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. The weight of your words hung in the air, a final declaration of your boundaries and a stark reminder of the consequences of crossing them. Ali stood before you, his expression a mix of shock, hurt, and realization. He watched you stomp off to your car while standing there.

As much as your words hurt, Ali couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He was happy that he got to meet you face to face after weeks of being ignored and unanswered. To see you in person instead of through a photo and video made Ali excited, as if he's meeting you for the first time again like he did that faithful day.

Ali wasn't going to back down. No matter what. The man was determined to find a way to win you over, to change your mind about him.

[pinky-glitz]

ʜᴇ’s ᴍɪɴᴇ~ | ᴍ. ᴀʟᴀɪ

MDNI.

Tags : Oral (both receiving), toxic!reader, fingering, creampie, mention of Daddy, praise kink, degradation kink, videotape

He's mine. You may have had him once, but I got him all the time.

You sat cross legged on the couch of the wealthy mansion your boyfriend owned with your phone sitting on the glass table in front of you. You twirled a glass of champagne and sipped on the expensive drink while bobbing your head to some old school RnB. The contact of that wench that thought she’ll be able to steal your man blared on your phone screen and you chuckled, he was done with his ex and now she was calling when she saw he was now happier with you.

Was it crazy of you to link his phone to yours so you could be receiving all the messages he sent and received?

Maybe a little bit, but who cares?

You laughed and read the messages as she cried her eyes out and sent voice notes begging for him to return.

“What a fool. She really thought my Alai would want to be with her cheap ass.” You rolled your eyes and beckoned for the butler to pour you another glass since you happened to drain it all. “…Pathetic.”

Your ears perked and you knew he was back from his match from the door clicking open.

“Baby! I’m home~” He sang and you turned around in your seat to see him grinning, flashing you that perfect smile you loved to see.

“How was the match, love?” You cooed and he dropped beside you and gave you a deep kiss, stealing your breath away.

“It was great, would’ve been better if you were around to cheer me on.” He slightly pouted and you laughed in response. You caressed his defined cheek and brushed the coily hair at his nape.

“You know I hate going to those underground places. They stink and all the blood and gore isn’t my thing.”

“I know… guess it’s only the normal boxing matches you can attend.”

“Yeah. But I’m here to celebrate your win.” You looked towards the butler and asked him to go fetch you two the red expensive bottle of wine in the cellar.

Alai looked at the table and raised a brow before a syrupy laugh escaped his lips, “Guess you already started the celebration without me.”

You shifted your gaze to see your glass of sizzling champagne and a chuckle escaped your lips. You reached forward and cleared it all, shocking him a little bit.

“Now we can start on a fresh new slate.” You smiled and he returned the gesture.

~•~

You moaned in the sloppy kiss you and Muhammad were sharing and rocked your core on his ripped thigh eagerly. He squeezed your hips and caressed your back, pushing your shirt out of the way and kissing the swell of your breasts. You grabbed the coils of his hair and let dirty cries slip past your lips, you felt his grin spreading across your skin and the pleasant squeeze of his strong hands on your ass.

“Alai~” You drawled and he pressed more kisses on your neck while unclasping your bra. You shrugged off the remaining article of clothing and he sat back and admired your body.

“So pretty~ always so gorgeous.” He grinned and ran his sturdy hands up and down your waist.

“Baby, I wanna try something new.” You purred and he raised his brow, curious as to what you could possibly have up your coy sleeve.

“Hmmm, what do you wanna try?”

You pulled back a bit and brought your phone that you conveniently placed nearby just for this plan you had. You raised it up and showed him the screen and he widened his eyes in realization.

“Wanna make a sexy video with you.”

He gulped and you felt his hard length throb underneath you. You knew he was hooked, he laughed proudly and took your phone in his large hand.

“What a dirty girl.”

You could tell the camera was already rolling by the way he held your phone and you were in full view. He slipped his other hand up your waist and squeezed your breast, encircling the stiff nipple with his thumb and drawing out a whimper from you.

“You wanted me to fuck your little cunt while I video it? You wanna be my little pornstar?” He mused and you winced as he slapped your nipple and gave your breast a firm squeeze, “…Well I’m gonna do it cause I can’t resist my angel, with a pretty face like yours I’d do anything for you.”

“Alai~” You mewled and continued grinding on his lap.

“Enough of that angel, get on your knees for me.” He rasped and you were quick on your feet to kneel before his spread out legs and await his next command.

You watched his veiny hand dig into his trousers and pull out his huge girth that left you bordering on excitement and nervousness. He tapped the head against your lips and rubbed against it before he popped it into your ready mouth.

You hummed around his tip and licked sweetly, tasting his precum oozing onto your tongue. His strong hand cupped your face and angled your head to look directly into the camera.

“Oh baby~” He groaned and watched as you gained momentum in the way you were sucking him off. You grabbed the base of his cock and took all that you could into your mouth and pumped the rest with your hand, you slobbered down his length and groaned while his grip got a bit tight on your hair. “You’re so good sucking my cock like this, love.”

You felt his hips moving up to match the pace and you gladly accepted him. You gagged around his throbbing girth and melted into his firm but gentle hold on your hair.

“Such a good girl, letting me use her pretty mouth. Fuck angel.” Alai’s deep syrupy voice went straight to your core and you couldn’t help but whimper as he thrust into your mouth and tears slipped down your cheeks. “My dirty little slut, taking my huge cock like the whore she is, yeah baby, lemme fuck your throat real good.”

Just when you thought it was almost over and he was about to spill his cum you saw yourself being yanked off his throbbing cock and staring deep into his onyx eyes.

“Too soon for that love.” He chuckled and thumbed at your bottom lip, slipping his finger into your mouth which you dutifully sucked. “Now get your pretty ass up on this couch so I can eat it.”

You shakily made your way to your feet as he positioned the phone on the coffee table so there was a clear view of the two of you and he could put all his attention on you. You shimmied out of your remaining clothing and climbed onto the sofa, he dragged you closer and kissed you sloppily while his other hand slipped between your legs and rubbed your folds, pulling whines out of you.

“Turn around and ass up.” He commanded and you did as you were told, you rested your face into the comforts of your crossed arms and awaited the pleasure your boyfriend was going to give you.

“So wet, eager, aren’t we?” He laughed and gripped your cheeks in his hands, spreading them apart so he can take a good look at your sopping cunt. You squeaked underneath him and felt your body running with tingles of embarrassment.

You gasped and let out a dirty moan as his tongue licked a stripe up from your clit to your hole, he hummed against your heat and smacked your ass with a grin, you whimpered and rocked against his mouth that enthusiastically pleasured you.

“Alai~”

He pulled away and buried a thick finger into you, holding onto your hip and bouncing it on the single digit steadily. You bit on your arm and curled your toes as you felt another finger slip within you and you couldn’t hold back your moan, he curled his fingers and pressed against your weak spot and leaned in to lick your asshole which shocked you.

Alai continued thrusting into you with his fingers curled, it hit deep and your legs trembled with each pump and your slick slid effortlessly down your shaky thighs.

“So deep, mmh~ feels too good. Gonna make me cum, gonna cum.” You whined and clawed at the sofa, feeling your pleasure peaking and his hand not stopping for a second. “Alai~ Please, gonna–Mgnh!”

You rolled your eyes back and let out a blissful cry as your hips bounced on his thick fingers and rode out your high, your fluids dripped down and he didn’t hesitate to fuck you harder on his fingers. He pulled away with a satisfied grin on his face and smacked your ass making you flinch and mewl.

“Atta girl.” He licked his lips and his tone made you jelly.

Alai grabbed hold of his lofty cock and pumped it with his slickened hand, his free hand parted your cheeks open and brought your holes into full view, your cunt all soaked for him and clenching onto nothing only furthered his need to fuck you immediately.

“Alaiii~” You gasped as he stretched you out wonderfully, his fingers nothing in comparison to his girth that plugged you up nicely. You dug your nails into the couch and bit your arm to refrain from being too loud but it was futile.

“Fuck baby, tight as always.” He sighed and gripped your ass before thrusting into you. Your skins slapped against each other messily and the obscene sounds of his cock drenched in your juices filled the entire room, “…Dirty cockslut. I’m gonna fuck this slutty pussy so good, gonna get you dumb on my cock.”

“Yes~” You drooled and saw specks of white behind your eyes with each hard thrust of his, “Fuck me stupid Daddy~”

He pounded away into you and you bounced your hips back to meet him tit for tat. You threw your head to the side as he kissed your neck and groped your breasts, licking the shell of your ear and biting on it. Your thighs quaked and hapless cries fell from your lips, it was too damn good and the moment your eyes locked with the camera it was all over.

Without warning, you came all over his cock and rolled your eyes back, babbling incoherencies while he pummeled into you and shoved your face into the cushions, gripping your hair tight and leaving you a sobbing whiny mess. You drooled and became limp under his ministries, letting him fuck you like his toy and phased in and out of consciousness. Alai stared at the ring of cream around his shaft and your cunt and grinned to himself.

“Nah baby, I want you drunk on my cock. Cmon, look at the camera you little pornstar.” He yanked you up and held onto your arms and began pistoning into you, your breasts bounced to each of his harsh movements and you couldn’t help but cry in pleasure.

You stared into the camera lenses and whined, screaming his name for the entire world to hear. Alai kissed you passionately and panted into your mouth as his pacing got rougher and more feral.

“Want it in. Cum in me, Alai. Wan’ it, Wan’ it so bad.” You drawled and dizziness caught up to you as you repeated your words thoughtlessly, only fueled by your basal need for him to fill you up.

He grunted and spurted his thick load into you, thrusting without a single thought in his head, his only need to leave you dripping out his seed. You stiffened in his hold with a gasp hooked in your throat as it all came to an end. He released his grip on your arms and you limply fell onto the cushions, your mind blank and devoid of any thought except from how your cunt was stuffed full with his cum.

“You were so good to me princess.” Alai rasped and took a hold of your ass and spread it open to watch his white fluids seep out of your abused hole. “Look at the camera baby.”

You looked towards the table and saw it wasn’t there and inclined your head to see over your shoulder. There it was in his hand as he wore the sweetest charismatic smile that sent butterflies to your belly.

“That’s my girl.”

You definitely were.

[boxer-simp]

MASTERLIST

SFW

Yandere Flowed Themed Asks

1) Primrose

2) Hydrangea, Cyprus, and lavender

3) Narcissus

Muhammad Ali jr's s/o meet kozue and Baki

ali's parents would react to s/o having their first grandchild

Riding Muhammad headcanons

A-E *Fluff Alphabet*

The fight

Prompt: Bedtime edition

1) How hard or easy is it to wake up Mo?

2) Who wakes up the earliest?

S/o with natural hair

date night with junior

Nsfw headcanons for junior

Muhammad cuddling headcanon

What does Muhammad’s hands do as you’re riding him?

Fluff Alphabet

Yandere Prompts

Muhammad x reader who likes to watch him train

Muhammad x chubby reader

Yandere Muhammad x reader pt.1

[hon3ybee-3]

Can I get a Muhammad Ali jr x chubby/ curvy reader?

It can have nsfw if you want. I can just imagine him to be handsy when you two are alone or not in the face if journalists.

Can I get a Muhammad Ali jr x chubby/ curvy reader?

he definitely is!

- when he first laid his eyes on you, he instantly fell in love

- from your chubby thighs to your chubby cheeks

- (he likes to pinch them)

- whenever you guys kiss he cups your cheeks then smiles before pulling you into a kiss

- likes it when you wear skin tight clothes that show your curves (likes with better with no clothes tho)

- literally worships the ground you walk on

- he always squeezes you, he thinks it’s cute how you react

- love picking you up and squeezing too

- just be prepared to be randomly picked up and swung around by him

- if you ever feel insecure or bad about yourself he will always he there for you

- kissing you and hugging you

- this man DIES for your ass and thighs so he literally just lays there all the time

- after he comes back from training he just lays between your thighs or flips you over and lay on your ass

- loves you soo much

- would beat anyone’s ass for messing with you or saying something about you

NSFW

- like i said he for he would die for your ass so that means….DOGGY STYLE

- ohhh does this man love putting face down ass up

- he loves watching your ass jiggle from the back,

- he also fucks you in front of a mirror

- doggy style + mirror = you getting the life fucked out of you

- sometimes when he turn you into a moaning mess and your eyes rolls back, he’s reach down and wrap his hand around you neck and whisper in your ear tell you how much he loves the face your making then proceeds to fuck you faster and hard

- please ride his face, that what he wants it for you to sit and side his face but don’t try and get up he will hold your hips

- will have you ride his face until you squirt all over it

- like he will just grab you and put you on his face and hold your hips

- speaking of riding he loves when you ride him especially backwards cow-girl

- he loves looking at your ass as you work his dick and he says a lot of

- “yeah baby just like that” “shit babe you gonna make me cum” “move your hips like that for me again”

- when he cums his head is thrown back

- he’s a giver but doesn’t mind receiving either so y’all (69) a lot

- but he does really enjoy watching you throw you head back and arch your back as he fingers your pussy and suck your clit

[radioleary-blog]

Hef Tragedy Jam

Hugh Hefner died yesterday. When the news was announced, over fifty women said they were dismayed. No, wait...over fifty women said they were “Miss May”. Fifty more were Miss June, and, well, you get the picture. If you were lucky you got their pictures.

Few of you reading this are old enough to remember that Playboy magazine was about the only place you could see a naked woman, and I say that because there are probably few of you reading this, period. But hey, my column gets more readers than the average suicide note, statistically speaking. Although I’m trying to increase my readership, and the average suicide note is more of a stand-alone project. I bet if George Lucas ever wrote a suicide note, he’d follow it up with three prequel notes. Each successively worse than the last. People would be like, “Why did he have to ruin that original suicide note, which I loved, with those awful prequel-suicide notes? I don’t care why he got depressed, but clearly only a manic depressive could make such a desperate cry for help as introducing Jar-Jar Binks. If I ruined a billion dollar franchise by coming up with an offensive racist caricature like Jar-Jar Binks, I’d probably consider putting a lightsaber in my mouth too.”

I grew up with Playboy magazine, and my early knowledge of female physiology was less from a volume of Grey’s anatomy or sketches by DaVinci, and more from volumes of Playboy magazine. It was like a reference guide, one that you would hold up with one hand. In fact, the first time I had a girlfriend who got naked, I wondered where her staples were. Of course, today, I’m the one who should have his stomach stapled, but that’s another story. Ah, sweet irony!

I’m sure Hugh Hefner went to Heaven, but whatever gleaming Mansion in the sky awaits us, no matter how glorious, for Hugh Hefner it’s going to be a pretty big step down from the Playboy Mansion. It may actually be Seventh Heaven, but Hef has been living on Cloud Nine since 1956. But, hey, he’s already wearing a robe. You know when you see depictions of Heaven, everybody is always wearing white robes? That’s because they were wearing those white robes in the hospital when they died. And they make you wear those awful robes that don’t close in the back because that’s where your wings will come out when you get to Heaven. It’s all part of God’s plan. I bet you’ll still have that plastic wristband on too, St. Peter just scans it at the gate to let you in. <beep> “Cardiac arrest. You’re good. Check in at the registration desk. Have a valid photo ID ready.”

Hugh Hefner was such a consummate pussyhound, I wouldn’t be surprised if he made a deathbed conversion to radical Islam, just to get the 72 virgins in Heaven. God would be like - I mean “Allah” would be like, “Pretty tricky Hef, pretty tricky. But...technically it counts. You old horndog!” Of course, you know what Hugh Hefner calls 72 virgins? A slow Tuesday.

The Playboy Mansion was famous for its out-of-control parties, and the mansion had a natural cave-like grotto on the grounds where everyone would go to snort coke and have sex. I guess Hef was a lot like Bruce Wayne, a millionaire with a mansion and a cave. And didn’t they call Bruce Wayne a millionaire playboy? Hef was a Playboy millionaire. But the difference is, Hef would rather do coke and fuck super-models whereas Batman would rather do-good and fight super-villains. Plus, Batman slides down the Bat-pole, and crazy hot chicks slide down the Hef-pole. In other words, Hef was sane, and Batman was, well, not so much. Batman is basically a billionaire who just wants to hurt people and not get sued for it and pretend he’s a hero. Kind of like Trump.

The grotto cave on the grounds of the Playboy Mansion had a huge, heated Jacuzzi pool, where movie stars, rock and roll gods, and celebrity athletes were eagerly humped by groupies, star-fuckers, and aspiring playmates. Unprotected 1970’s sex was messier than Michael J. Fox eating an ice cream cone, so the pool was probably 60% water, 2% spilled cocaine, and 38% James Caan’s jizz. The lifeguard got syphilis just from giving mouth to mouth resuscitation. At least that was her story. But that was about the same time Grand Funk Railroad was in town, so who can say? I do think ‘grotto’ must be the Italian word for ‘gross’.

I hear some of the more politically correct crowd, or as they’re more commonly known, nitwits, complaining that Playboy exploited women. And I guess it was exploitation, in the same sense that Vogue magazine is exploiting the mostly-naked teenage anorexic girls slash super-models in their magazine. And I say slash because that’s what these girls often try to do to their wrists. Unlike Vogue magazine models, at least the Playboy women didn’t have eating disorders. They’re a lot less likely to stick their fingers down their throats. I’m not saying they’re any less likely to have something down their throats, but not their fingers.

Exploiting women. As if Hugh Hefner was hanging around the Newark bus station looking for a girl down on her luck and fresh off the turnip truck from Topeka. That sounds more like the plot of a 1930’s movie than the way his business empire was run. I think what Hef did was have his photography editors, both men and women, spend endless hours going through duffel bags of mail sent in by thousands of women from all around the country who wanted to pose for Playboy. The staff would narrow it down to probably a few dozen, and then get Hef’s opinion on who was not only the most beautiful, but who had the look that would be right to feature in the magazine. That’s exactly what the editors and publishers do at Elle, and Vogue, and every other magazine that holds up a particular brand of beauty as an ideal.

And I don’t know any women who haven’t worn out the related links on their favorite porn sites jilling off to whatever their particular porn flavor might be, so who exactly are these people that still have a problem with Playboy? Because without Hefner’s decades of battles against governmental and religious censorship, there would be no porn sites. Hef made it possible to look at porn sites without pretending you go there for the articles. Without Playboy, people would still be saying, “Did you read that insightful article on the humanitarian crisis in Darfur? And that recently-found short story by J.D, Salinger?” “Why, yes. I particularly liked the profile of Jazz trumpeters from the post-bop era. And I did notice some delightful porn as well, between the articles, of course.”

The reason Hef could get away with putting in naked chicks is his magazine is because Playboy was a serious, respected literary magazine. The greatest writers of the day were in Playboy:

Ray Bradbury wrote original content for Playboy, and serialized Fahrenheit 451, which was coincidentally the exact temperature of how hot the playmates were.

The Beat writer Jack Kerouac wrote for Playboy, and that cat was cool as hell. Beat, Jack, that is exactly what Playboy readers do.

Ian Fleming published short stories in Playboy, and the James Bond novel “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service” was published first in Playboy. We all know James Bond got enormous amounts of pussy. But compared to what Hef was getting, James Bond looks like a bible salesman with erectile disfunction. Or a guy who works in a comic book store. Think about that for a minute; the world’s sexiest pussyhound spy still gets less women than the guy who published the magazine his story is in. And Bond is fictional!

Roald Dahl wrote for them, too. The author of “Willie Wonka” writing for people who wonka their willies, sounds apropo.

Kurt Vonnegut wrote for them all the time, and that dude was cooler than Ice Nine. There’s a reference for ya!

Joseph Heller published a lost chapter of “Catch-22” in Playboy. I think the title Catch-22 might be the number of social diseases you’d get if you had sex in the grotto.

Margaret Atwood, author of “The Handmaid’s Tale” started writing for Playboy in 1991. I would imagine one of her stories was called “The Handmaid’s Tail”.

Hunter S. Thompson. Gabriel García Márquez, John Updike, Joyce Carol Oates, Truman Capote, they all wrote for Playboy. This magazine was the real deal, kids, it was smarter and cooler than absolutely anything you know today. You see, all of these stories were longer than 140 characters. Or even 280.

I actually learned quite a bit about culture from Playboy, between rounds, if you know what I mean. By middle school I could discuss the literary feud between Gore Vidal and Norman Mailer in English class and sound like a friggin’ genius, I just couldn’t tell the teacher where I learned it. “Where did I learn that? Oh, you know. Around. Literary journals, and the like. At that building that has all the books. Yes, exactly, the library! That’s the one! I frequent that establishment, I‘ll have you know.” What was I gonna say? My father’s sock drawer?

The Playboy Interview was legendary, they were deep, involved discussions, frank and uncensored. Here are some of the people they interviewed: Salvador Dali, Patty Hearst, Groucho Marx, Ansel Adams, Stanley Kubrick, The Beatles, Albert Schweitzer, Buckminster Fuller, Orson Welles, Peter Sellers, Abbie Hoffman, Tennessee Williams, Erica Jong, Allen Ginsberg, and Bertrand Russell. Then there are the so famous they’re known by just one name:  Fellini, Castro, Brando, Nehru, Sartre, Bowie, Nabokov, Hoffa, Carson, Antonioni, Mastroianni, Gleason, and Sinatra. And Playboy was woke, they interviewed Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, Jr., Alex Haley, Miles Davis, Muhammad Ali,  Eldridge Cleaver, Dick Gregory, and Huey Newton. Holy shit, right?  Who do you see interviewed today? Kardashians? Ryan Gosling? Taylor Swift, but interrupted by Kanye West? This time we live in today has less culture than a petri dish.

Hef lived so long that most people today have no real idea how influential he was, what an important cultural icon he was, and that he somehow talked Marilyn Monroe into posing naked on the cover of the very first issue of his magazine way the hell back in 1956. That’s a dude with the Kavorka, big-time. And nobody was naked back in 1956. Not in this country. In 1956, people showered wearing a suit and tie, and apart from time shampooing, a smart fedora. They say people were more cultured back then because they went to art museums, bullshit, I think they only went to art museums to see the nudes in the oil paintings. You would too, and you know it, don’t even try to deny it. You’d say you were admiring the Titian, but you were really just admiring the Tit.

Nearly every issue, Playboy featured a very prominent celebrity with a well-established career and respected in her field who actually wanted people to see how beautiful she was without any clothes. Starting with Marilyn Monroe. And she was smoking hot, too, an icon in her absolute prime. Future historians will be more grateful for that photo shoot than they are for the discovery of the Nag Hammadi texts. Where do you go from there, Playboy? Well, how about Farrah Fawcett, the biggest sex-symbol of the entire 1970’s! The list of gorgeous, talented, famous, successful women that wanted to pose for Playboy might be hard for you to imagine, as you live in an age where women pose in magazines like Maxim with their clothes on! And men today pay to see that? Wtf? Man, I can see women with their clothes on just about anywhere I go. I can see that in line at the deli counter, I don’t need to pay for it.

Here are just a few, a very few, of the already-famous women who chose to pose with no clothes:

Daryl Hannah. Olivia Munn. Kim Basinger. Charlize Theron. Drew Barrymore. Denise Richards (she had kids with Charlie Sheen, so posing for Playboy was comparatively a relatively sound decision). Shannen Doherty. Belinda Carlisle. Jayne Mansfield. Mariel Hemingway. Margaux Hemingway. Nastassja Kinski. Sharon Stone. Rosanna Arquette. Vanna White. Elle MacPherson. Brigitte Bardot. Uma Thurman. Kate Moss. The list is almost endless. I almost said bottomless, but being Playboy, “bottomless”  goes without saying.

Sure, the last decade and a half weren’t great for Hef, but who stays cool past the age of 75? Only Bob Dylan and Picasso. Hef couldn’t let it all go, and at the end it was pretty sad. It was like Sunset Boulevard with viagra. But I’ll miss the Hef of fifty years ago, that man was at the forefront of political movements, cultural progress, gay rights, equal rights, reproductive rights, and the right to take your goddamn clothes off if you feel like it.

This may be the first funeral where you should bring condoms. In lieu of flowers, please give blowjobs. So long, Hef. Thanks for the mammaries.

[1greatchange]

“Black Authors & Illustrators of the Past & Present” Day 7: Alex Haley was an author and screenwriter. Haley grew up in Ithaca, New York and Henning, Tennessee. At 15, he enrolled at Alcorn State University for a year before enrolling at Elizabeth City State College for a year. His father convinced Haley to enlist in the military; joining the Coast Guard as a mess attendant in 1939. It was in the Coast Guard that Haley began writing. During this time, his fellow sailors paid him to write letters to girlfriends. After WWII, he requested a transfer into the journalism field. By the time that he retired in 1959, Haley had advanced to the rank of chief petty officer, the first chief journalist in the Coast Guard. He served as a writer and editor for Reader’s Digest after retirement. In the 1960s, he began to conduct interviews for Playboy magazine. He interviewed Miles Davis, George Lincoln Rockwell, Muhammad Ali, and Sammy Davis, Jr. among others. His interview of Nation of Islam minister Malcolm X proved to be the most important one. Following that interview, Haley became the ghostwriter to the minister’s autobiography. In the early 1970s, he completed his only screenplay, “Super Fly T.N.T.” A few years later, his most well-known work was published. “Roots: The Saga of an American Family” was turned into a TV miniseries a year following publication, reaching 130 million views. It has been published in 37 different languages. He died before finishing his second novel and was completed by David Stevens. His other works included: “The Autobiography of Malcolm X,” “Alex Haley’s Queen: The Story of an American Family,” and “Mama Flora’s Family.” #BlackHistoryMonth #BHM https://www.instagram.com/p/BtlwL9blh53/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=a1k48rb1p9im

[blackkudos]

Alex Haley

Alexander Murray Palmer "Alex" Haley (August 11, 1921 – February 10, 1992) was an American writer and the author of the 1976 book Roots: The Saga of an American Family. ABC adapted the book as a television miniseries of the same name and aired it in 1977 to a record-breaking audience of 130 million viewers. In the United States the book and miniseries raised the public awareness of African American history and inspired a broad interest in genealogy and family history.

Haley's first book was The Autobiography of Malcolm X, published in 1965, a collaboration through numerous lengthy interviews with the subject, a major African-American leader.

He was working on a second family history novel at his death. Haley had requested that David Stevens, a screenwriter, complete it; the book was published as Alex Haley's Queen. It was adapted as a film of the same name released in 1992.

Early life and education

Alex Haley was born in Ithaca, New York, on August 11, 1921, and was the oldest of three brothers and a sister. Haley lived with his family in Henning, Tennessee, before returning to Ithaca with his family when he was five years old. Haley's father was Simon Haley, a professor of agriculture at Alabama A&M University, and his mother was Bertha George Haley (née Palmer), who had grown up in Henning. The family had African American, Mandinka, Cherokee, Scottish, and Scots-Irish roots. The younger Haley always spoke proudly of his father and the obstacles of racism he had overcome.

Like his father, Alex Haley was enrolled at age 15 in Alcorn State University, a historically black college in Mississippi and, a year later, enrolled at Elizabeth City State College, also historically black, in North Carolina. The following year he returned to his father and stepmother to tell them he had withdrawn from college. His father felt that Alex needed discipline and growth, and convinced him to enlist in the military when he turned 18. On May 24, 1939, Alex Haley began what became a 20-year career in the United States Coast Guard.

Haley traced back his paternal ancestry, through genealogical research, to Jufureh.

Coast Guard career

Haley enlisted as a mess attendant. Later he was promoted to the rate of petty officer third-class in the rating of steward, one of the few ratings open to African Americans at that time. It was during his service in the Pacific theater of operations that Haley taught himself the craft of writing stories. During his enlistment other sailors often paid him to write love letters to their girlfriends. He said that the greatest enemy he and his crew faced during their long voyages was not the Japanese forces but rather boredom.

After World War II, Haley petitioned the U.S. Coast Guard to allow him to transfer into the field of journalism. By 1949 he had become a petty officer first-class in the rating of journalist. He later advanced to chief petty officer and held this grade until his retirement from the Coast Guard in 1959. He was the first chief journalist in the Coast Guard, the rating having been expressly created for him in recognition of his literary ability.

Haley's awards and decorations from the Coast Guard include the Coast Guard Good Conduct Medal (with 1 silver and 1 bronze service star), American Defense Service Medal (with "Sea" clasp), American Campaign Medal, Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal, European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal, World War II Victory Medal, Korean Service Medal, National Defense Service Medal, United Nations Service Medal, and the Coast Guard Expert Marksmanship Medal. Further, the Republic of Korea awarded him the War Service Medal 10 years after he died.

Literary career

After retiring from the U.S. Coast Guard, Haley began another phase of his journalism career. He eventually became a senior editor for Reader's Digest magazine.

Playboy

 magazine

Haley conducted the first interview for Playboy magazine. His interview with jazz musician Miles Davis appeared in the September 1962 issue. Haley elicited candid comments from Davis about his thoughts and feelings on racism. That interview set the tone for what became a significant feature of the magazine. Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Playboy Interview with Haley was the longest he ever granted to any publication.

Throughout the 1960s Haley was responsible for some of the magazine's most notable interviews, including one with George Lincoln Rockwell, leader of the American Nazi Party. He agreed to meet with Haley only after gaining assurance from the writer that he was not Jewish. Haley remained professional during the interview, although Rockwell kept a handgun on the table throughout it. (The interview was recreated in Roots: The Next Generations, with James Earl Jones as Haley and Marlon Brando as Rockwell.) Haley also interviewed Muhammad Ali, who spoke about changing his name from Cassius Clay. Other interviews include Jack Ruby's defense attorney Melvin Belli, entertainer Sammy Davis, Jr., football player Jim Brown, TV host Johnny Carson, and music producer Quincy Jones.

The Autobiography of Malcolm X

The Autobiography of Malcolm X, published in 1965, was Haley's first book. It describes the trajectory of Malcolm X's life from street criminal to national spokesman for the Nation of Islam to his conversion to Sunni Islam. It also outlines Malcolm X's philosophy of black pride, black nationalism, and pan-Africanism. Haley wrote an epilogue to the book summarizing the end of Malcolm X's life, including his assassination in New York's Audubon Ballroom.

Haley ghostwrote The Autobiography of Malcolm X based on more than 50 in-depth interviews he conducted with Malcolm X between 1963 and Malcolm X's February 1965 assassination. The two men had first met in 1960 when Haley wrote an article about the Nation of Islam for Reader's Digest. They met again when Haley interviewed Malcolm X for Playboy.

The first interviews for the autobiography frustrated Haley. Rather than discussing his own life, Malcolm X spoke about Elijah Muhammad, the leader of the Nation of Islam; he became angry about Haley's reminders that the book was supposed to be about Malcolm X. After several meetings, Haley asked Malcolm X to tell him something about his mother. That question drew Malcolm X into recounting his life story.

The Autobiography of Malcolm X has been a consistent best-seller since its 1965 publication. The New York Times reported that six million copies of the book had sold by 1977. In 1998 TIME magazine ranked The Autobiography of Malcolm X as one of the 10 most influential nonfiction books of the 20th century.

In 1966 Haley received the Anisfield-Wolf Book Award for The Autobiography of Malcolm X.

Super Fly T.N.T.

In 1973 Haley wrote his only screenplay, Super Fly T.N.T.. The film starred and was directed by Ron O'Neal.

Roots

In 1976 Haley published Roots: The Saga of an American Family, a novel based on his family's history, going back to slavery days. It started with the story of Kunta Kinte, who was kidnapped in the Gambia in 1767 and transported to the Province of Maryland to be sold as a slave. Haley claimed to be a seventh-generation descendant of Kunta Kinte, and his work on the novel involved twelve years of research, intercontinental travel, and writing. He went to the village of Juffure, where Kunta Kinte grew up and listened to a tribal historian (griot) tell the story of Kinte's capture. Haley also traced the records of the ship, The Lord Ligonier, which he said carried his ancestor to the Americas.

Haley has stated that the most emotional moment of his life occurred on September 29, 1967, when he stood at the site in Annapolis, Maryland, where his ancestor had arrived from Africa in chains exactly 200 years before. A memorial depicting Haley reading a story to young children gathered at his feet has since been erected in the center of Annapolis.

Roots was eventually published in 37 languages. Haley won a special Pulitzer Prize for the work in 1977. The same year, Roots was adapted as a popular television miniseries of the same name by ABC. The serial reached a record-breaking 130 million viewers. Roots emphasized that African Americans have a long history and that not all of that history is necessarily lost, as many believed. Its popularity also sparked a greatly increased public interest in genealogy.

In 1979 ABC aired the sequel miniseries, Roots: The Next Generations, which continued the story of Kunta Kinte's descendants. It concluded with Haley's travel to Juffure. Haley was portrayed at different ages by Kristoff St. John, The Jeffersons actor Damon Evans, and Tony Award winner James Earl Jones. In 2016, History aired a remake of the original miniseries. Haley appeared briefly, portrayed by Tony Award winner Laurence Fishburne.

Haley was briefly a "writer in residence" at Hamilton College in Clinton, New York, where he began work on Roots. He enjoyed spending time at a local bistro called the Savoy in nearby Rome, where he would sometimes pass the time listening to the piano player. Today, there is a special table in honor of Haley at the Savoy, and a painting of Haley writing Roots on a yellow legal tablet.

Plagiarism dispute and other criticism

Roots faced two lawsuits that charged plagiarism and copyright infringement. The lawsuit brought by Margaret Walker was dismissed, but Harold Courlander's suit was successful. Courlander's novel The African describes an African boy who is captured by slave traders, follows him across the Atlantic on a slave ship, and describes his attempts to hold on to his African traditions on a plantation in America. Haley admitted that some passages from The African had made it into Roots, settling the case out of court.

Genealogists have also disputed Haley's research and conclusions in Roots. The Gambian griot turned out not to be a real griot, and the story of Kunta Kinte appears to have been a case of circular reporting, in which Haley's own words were repeated back to him. None of the written records in Virginia and North Carolina line up with the Roots story until after the Civil War. Some elements of Haley's family story can be found in the written records, but the most likely genealogy would be different from the one described in Roots.

Haley and his work have been excluded from the Norton Anthology of African-American Literature, despite his status as the United States' best-selling African-American author. Harvard University professor Dr. Henry Louis Gates, Jr., one of the anthology's general editors, has denied that the controversies surrounding Haley's works are the reason for this exclusion. In 1998 Dr. Gates acknowledged the doubts surrounding Haley's claims about Roots, saying, "Most of us feel it's highly unlikely that Alex actually found the village whence his ancestors sprang. Roots is a work of the imagination rather than strict historical scholarship."

Later life and death

Early in the 1980s Haley worked with the Walt Disney Company to develop an Equatorial Africa pavilion for its Epcot Center theme park. Haley appeared on a CBS broadcast of Epcot Center's opening day celebration, discussing the plans and exhibiting concept art with host Danny Kaye. Ultimately, the pavilion was not built due to political and financial issues.

Late in the 1970s Haley had begun working on a second historical novel based on another branch of his family, traced through his grandmother Queen; she was the daughter of a black slave woman and her white master. He did not finish the novel before dying in Seattle, Washington, of a heart attack. He was buried beside his childhood home in Henning, Tennessee. At his request, the novel was finished by David Stevens and was published as Alex Haley's Queen. It was subsequently adapted as a movie of the same name in 1993.

Late in Haley's life he had acquired a small farm in Clinton, Tennessee, although at the time it had a Norris, Tennessee address. The Farm is a few miles from the Museum of Appalachia, and Haley lived there until his death. After his death the property was sold to the Children's Defense Fund (CDF), which calls it the Alex Haley Farm. The nonprofit organization uses the farm as a national training center and retreat site. An abandoned barn on the farm property was rebuilt as a traditional cantilevered barn, using a design by architect Maya Lin. The building now serves as a library for the CDF.

Awards and recognition

In 1977 Haley received the Spingarn Medal from the NAACP, for his exhaustive research and literary skill combined in Roots.

The food-service building at the U.S. Coast Guard Training Center, Petaluma, California, was named Haley Hall in honor of the author.

In 1999 the Coast Guard honored Haley by naming the cutter USCGC Alex Haley after him.

The U.S. Coast Guard annually awards the Chief Journalist Alex Haley Award, which is named in honor of the writer as the Coast Guard's first chief journalist (the first Coast Guardsman in the rating of journalist to be advanced to the rate of chief petty officer). It rewards individual authors and photographers who have had articles or photographs communicating the Coast Guard story published in internal newsletters or external publications.

In 2002 the Republic of Korea (South Korea) posthumously awarded Haley its Korean War Service Medal (created in 1951), which the U.S. government did not allow its service members to accept until 1999.

Recordings

Alex Haley Tells the Story of His Search for Roots (1977) – 2-LP recording of a two-hour lecture Haley gave at the University of Pennsylvania. Released by Warner Bros. Records (2BS 3036).

Legacy

Collection of Alex Haley's personal works

The University of Tennessee Libraries, in Knoxville, Tennessee, maintains a collection of Alex Haley's personal works in its Special Collections Department. The works contain notes, outlines, bibliographies, research, and legal papers documenting Haley's Roots through 1977. Of particular interest are the items showing Harold Courlander's lawsuit against Haley, Doubleday & Company, and various affiliated groups.

Wikipedia

[mothwingwritings]

*°:⋆ₓₒMaster Listₓₒ⋆:°*

*Italicized means explicit n s f w

LAST UPDATED 8/13/23

My fics/drabbles/headcanons typically get tagged with #mothwingswritings. Responses to asks generally are tagged #mothwords.

JoJos Bizarre Adventure: 

~FICS~

Treasured Friend- Fem!readerxJospeh Joestar (yandere)

Halcyon Days Pt.1- Fem!readerxJosuke Higashikata (yandere) PART TWO

Baki The Grappler:

~FICS/HEADCANONS~

✦✧✦✧Yujiro Hanma✦✧✦✧

In The Dead Of Night- Fem!readerxYujiro Hanma

Special Treatment- Fem!readerXYujiro Hanma

Interlude- Fem!readerXYujiro Hanma

Paradise- Fem!readerxYujiro Hanma

✦✧✦✧Kaoru Hanayama✦✧✦✧

There’s Honey On The Moon Tonight- Fem!reader X Kaoru Hanayama (Yandere)

✦✧✦✧Katsumi Orochi✦✧✦✧

When The Smoke Clears- Fem!Reader X Katsumi Orochi

✦✧✦✧Biscuit Olivia✦✧✦✧

Biscuit Romance Headcanons

✦✧✦✧Jun Guevara✦✧✦✧

Jun Guevara Romance Headcanons

✦✧✦✧Jack Hanma✦✧✦✧

The Only One For Me- Fem!readerxJack Hanma (yandere)

✦✧✦✧Multiple✦✧✦✧

Three’s A Crowd- Retsu Kaioh x Fem!reader x Katsumi Orochi

~SCENARIOS/ASKS~

Valentine’s Scenarios

Christmas Traditions Scenarios

Shy/weak F!Reader X Doyle and Guevara

Musashi With A Crush On Yujiro’s Step Daughter

Pickle Takes An Interest In The Hanma Stepsister/Daughter

Why The Baki Men Love You

Naive Hanma Daughter Used Inappropriately

Muhammad Ali Jr. Getting Flirty With Hanma Sibling/Daughter

Yujiro Forcing His Step Daughters Hand In Marriage

Hanma Step Sister/Daughter With Luffy Like Abilities

Yujiro Stepdaughter Kissing

~BLURBS/MISC~

Hanma Family Yandere Stepcest Blurb

Tokyo Revengers:

~Fics~

✦✧✦✧Kisaki Tetta✦✧✦✧

Thankful- Fem!readerxKisaki Tetta

✦✧✦✧Taiju Shiba✦✧✦✧

There’s Just No One Like You- Fem!readerXTaiju Shiba (yandere) PART TWO PART THREE

~Blurbs~

Taiju Shopping

Bouncer:

~SCENARIOS/ASKS/HEADCANONS~

Tokyo Fist Relationship/Dating Headcanons (with Fem! reader)

Final Fantasy XIV:

~FICS~

Taming Of Beasts- Fem!Reader X Zenos Yae Galvus

Guilty Gear:

~FICS~

Those Who Dream Of Heaven- Fem!readerxLeo Whitefang

[betseydisher107-blog]

Health Outcomes From Plastic Water Bottles.

Meena Ali's extended family members-- The Strongs-- are full of pairs which reside in affection, yet she can't appear to pass the break-up of her parents that was actually brought on by an affair. As well as I must have youngsters one day, right? A lot of receivers are cancer cells clients, but kids enduring loss of hair as a result of alopecia, trichotillomania, burns, lupus, and every other health care health condition are additionally entitled. Teachers ought to: support as well as motivate youngsters who are anxious, make use of positive language when collisions occur, and tweak activities to match a range from capabilities as this guarantees that little ones may be engageded in high-risk play somewhat. Such opportunity, of course, could be challenging to arrange when you have a busy lifestyle as you perform. However - at least originally - give them the perk from the hesitation as well as allow all of them recognize exactly how you believe without creating any final words. Children of the Action: The Sons and Daughters from Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, Elijah Muhammad, George Wallace, Andrew Young, Julian Bond, Stokely Carmichael, Bob Moses, James Chaney, Elaine Brown, as well as Others Reveal Just How the Civil Liberty Motion Tested as well as Transformed Their Households (Chicago, IL: Lawrence Hill Press, 2004), 166-167, 170, 174. Unsworth, which possesses an MBA and also was a cannabis business person when the group started, stated she desired to support for those which were really current in the gray-market business-- females and diet-4-fit.info also folks from color-- however which were mainly overlooking coming from conversations concerning the plans that will shape it.

Our consumers, they continuously seek reprieve coming from the busy time from multitasking, constantly in shift, creating the requirement for me opportunity and individual connection. Make the effort to diffuse your personal emotions as well as calm down prior to you talk with your little one. 2: Individuals which thing Citrus' Yuzu is actually having a difficult time obtaining a half-robot lady to fall for her have to understand Yuzu's problems PALE in comparison to Yuu's ... then again Yuu's tactics have not been actually the absolute most extensive therefore Yuzu possesses that over her. Bailing grown-up children from monetary problem repeatedly or even using economic aid you truly can't pay for to give or experiencing utilized along with constant childcare needs is actually no other way to create a nurturing connection. All too often, that leaves behind adult kids cold and also adrift, which keeps them back coming from full adulthood. Soon Dave, taped up in a well-maintained baby diaper, was actually setting, head on Margaret's tour as he nurse on his bottle. This article appears to become mostly concerning how the youngsters clutter things up along with their moms and dads. Otherwise, give him a book about adults that were misused as little ones - there are actually many that might be handy to him - along with a details that you like him as well as will certainly regularly be there for him. At times that feels as if he will prefer that his conventional reader failed to read his publications in all, as well as this is tiresome viewing your ideological views cast as satires from nonsense as well as unawareness in so many works by someone you respect. Dave sobbed as a fragrance filled the area, the youngster clergyman wrapped up as Dave received reddish, Margaret make a decision to earn him believe a lot better, so she loaded the rear of her diaper along with poop. . A lot of these foods items additionally supply water as well as thread, which can easily create you feel total, in order to help along with weight management. In reality, there is actually a disagreement to become brought in that if a person has reviewed simply a singular King manual, they in fact have a clearer perspective from that particular unique in comparison to if they went into it bring the baggage from ever before other King manual with all of them.

[blackartnews]

What I want. What I am. What you force me to be is what you are. For I am you staring back from a mirror of poverty and despair, of revolt and freedom. Look at me and know that to destroy me is to destroy yourself.

Gordon Parks wrote these words in 1967. Whether through photographs, words or music, Gordon gave a voice to the sometimes voiceless and demonstrated the transformative power of self-expression. His photographs transcend art, history, race and culture and have endured to stand the test of time.

Peter W. Kunhardt, Jr., Executive Director of the Gordon Parks Foundation

Untitled, New York, New York, 1957 – All images courtesy of and © The Gordon Parks Foundation.

Eartha Kitt Performs at the Blue Angel, New York, New York, 1952 – All images courtesy of and © The Gordon Parks Foundation.

American Boys’ Feet on Street, Paris, France, 1951 – All images courtesy of and © The Gordon Parks Foundation.

Langston Hughes, Chicago, Illinois, 1941 – All images courtesy of and © The Gordon Parks Foundation.

Falling Man, Paris, France, 1951 – All images courtesy of and © The Gordon Parks Foundation.

  Jack Shainman Gallery is pleased to announce Gordon Parks: I Am You | Part 1. As a photographer, film director, composer, and writer, Gordon Parks (1912-2006) was a visionary artist whose work continues to influence American culture to this day. In collaboration with the Gordon Parks Foundation, this first half of a two-part exhibition will focus on Parks’ lesser-known bodies of work, such as his elegant compositions of artists in their studios, as well as his timeless fashion photography.

Though Parks is best known for his photographs documenting much of the civil rights era, he spent many years as a freelance photographer for a variety of publications, working across many subjects. Among his lesser-known works featured in the exhibition are a series of portraits of artists in their studios, including Helen Frankenthaler, Alexander Calder and Alberto Giacometti. A 1951 group of images taken in Giacometti’s studio transforms the artist into one of his creations – skeletal and draped in shadow, yet still dominating the composition, even from the background.

I Am You also includes examples from Parks’ fashion works taken during the 1950s and 60s in New York. He showcased a signature aesthetic, which photography historian and Gordon Parks Foundation board member Deborah Willis calls street style. “He situated models in haute couture dresses and stylized suits within the lively city. Readers could imagine themselves in the clothing, either waiting for a bus on Fifth Avenue or experiencing a flat tire on the way to a ball.” She adds, “Gordon understood the importance of beauty in everyday life. He recognized desire and found a way to express it in many forms.”*

As a photographer for Life Magazine during the publication’s most influential years, Parks had a wide audience for his celebrity portraits and photo essays. His work documented everyday life across the country, when photographs were not only taken at face value, but could turn the tide of public opinion. Parks’ images have been woven into the fabric of our nation’s collective visual memories and continue to be relevant today. American rap musician Kendrick Lamar recreated several classic Parks photographs in the 2017 music video for his song “ELEMENT,” emulating not only the artist’s signature aesthetic style, but his critique of injustice and call for activism.

Gordon Parks was born in Kansas in 1912. He was self-taught, and first worked for the Farm Security Administration, documenting the nation’s social conditions. In the 1940s he was a freelance photographer for publications like Ebony and Vogue and in 1948, he became the first African American staff photographer and writer for Life magazine, the most prominent photojournalist publication in the world at that time. He spent twenty years with the publication, chronicling racism and poverty, and captured moments with leaders such as Muhammad Ali, Malcolm X, and Adam Clayton Powell Jr. that would go on to become iconic.  He was also a noted composer and author, and in 1969, became the first African American to write and direct a Hollywood feature film based on his bestselling novel The Learning Tree. This was followed in 1971 by the classic motion picture Shaft. He was awarded the National Medal of Arts in 1988, and continued working until his death in 2006, leaving behind The Gordon Parks Foundation to continue his influential legacy.

Concurrently on view at 513 West 20th Street is Third Sun, an exhibition of works by Odili Donald Odita. The Coffins of Paa Joe and the Pursuit of Happiness is on view at The School in Kinderhook through February 24, 2018. Upcoming exhibitions at the gallery include I Am You | Part 2 at our 24th Street location, and an exhibition of works on paper by Barkley L. Hendricks at 513 West 20th Street, both opening February 15, 2018.

Gallery hours are Tuesday through Saturday from 10am to 6pm. For additional information and photographic material please contact Victoria Kung, SUTTON, victoria.kung@suttonpr.com, +1 212 202 3402.

Gordon Parks, “I Am You | Part 1” | Thursday, Jan.11 | Black Art News What I want. What I am. What you force me to be is what you are. For I am you staring back from a mirror of poverty and despair, of revolt and freedom.

[zyettemoon1800]

Underground female fighter x Ali

Request: Hi! Can i request you something? I have this crazy thing on my head- just an Underground female fighter reader x Muhammad Ali JR- that's heaven to me-

Like, Y/n is 6 feet tall, and- a pretty build body (don't a crazy body like Baki or something like that) and has a thing to do little hops like Ali, idk it looks better in my head (the Y/n has a Cinnamon tone of skin and a scar in her left eye on vertical, she can see but it was made for jack hanma, the brother of baki)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first time he saw you, was when he went to an underground fight. He remembered seeing you about to go up against a man that was bigger than you in every which way and how you only smirked and started hopping like he does when he is about to start fighting.

He also remembered how he cheered for you when you landed the final blow which knocked the guy unconscious and flexes your muscles proudly has you walked out.

Every since this that day he has been going to going to every single one of your fight no matter the weather.

At first you didn't notice him and thought he was just a crazed fan, but when he walked up to you one day at a cafe, you realized that the one cheering you on the entire time was indeed Muhammad Ali Jr .

You almost passed out right there since you were a big fan of his and actually used some of his techniques in your fighting.

Ever since that day, you both have hung out together and did a lot of this together.

Both of you like that y'all can get exercise together and not slow the other one down. Infact, sometimes you guys try to challenge each other to see who can do more of whatever exercise.

Besides training and play fighting with each other, you guys also like relaxing with one another.

It could be from a watching a movie to just basking in each other's heat like a couple of cats.

He is very happy that he could find someone as strong as independent as you... Who one's, maybe someday when you guys are have an arm wrestle, he might slide a ring on that finger.

[hon3ybee-3]

Muhammad Ali jr from baki x chubby/thicc reader

just posted it