you ever think about the intricacies of smoke & stack's dynamic and go fucking crazy?
their abusive father zeroing in on stack as the outlet for his beatings, smoke killing their daddy, half way done burying him by the time stack came to - smoke being the BIG BROTHER from the start, keeping stack safe - stack becoming who he is - bit reckless, full of charisma and whimsy because of smoke, in a way, shielding him from the world ("doesn't know how to watch his own back").
thinking of smoke saying how stack is the best thing about him, how stack talks a big game but how it's smoke who kills the snake, smoke who shoots two men for stealing out of his truck, smoke who pulls a gun on sammie and pearline. does he ever think he got more of their daddy in him than stack? where stack can connect with people in a way smoke can't quite follow. stack laying out clothes for him, doing his hair, rolling his cigarettes- giving smoke back some of what the war took.
but I also can't help but think that there is this slight ....almost paternalistic element at times - the way stack looks around for smoke when he's with mary, worried he'll be caught, worried he'll displease him and yet that thing he says when he's turned "don't let that witch come between us again" - there's no doubt that stack loves annie and is clearly DISTRAUGHT when smoke kills her but ...was there ever resentment? did he ever feel betrayed? was it ever only meant to be the two of them against the world?
"he was the best thing about me" "i ain't doing it without you there ain't no me without you" "sorry for not keeping you safe - you always did" the way stack is just that one person smoke can't kill, the way the only time he wavers in his resolve is when his vampire brother talks with him.
(this is borderline incoherent but I have a lot of thoughts)
Summary: Amelia packed her things and took a train to Clarksdale Mississippi to reunite with an old friend, Annie. Annie promised she’d teach Amelia the art of Hoodoo. After a month, Smoke and Stack return with a plan to open a Juke Joint.
Warnings: SMUT
Part Two
Elijah ‘Smokes’ truck rolled to a stop. He cut the engine, taking a moment to finish his cigarette before he entered the home he shared with Annie. He could smell her cooking from where he sat, mouth watering. He missed good ‘ol southern cooking, more specifically his wife’s cooking. Smoke tossed his cigarette bud and grabbed a bouquet of flowers that he purchased from Bo Chow before climbing out of his truck. Walking around to the back of the truck, he lifted the tarp and grabbed a wooden crate filled with Irish Beer and Italian Wine.
Smoke made the short walk to the house, ascending the front porch steps before sitting the crate down to open the door. He needed this. No more running away from his problems. He craved his wife in ways he couldn’t put into words. Smoke had a lot of making up to do, and he was a man of action and very few words.
Smoke could hear Ma Rainey playing from a phonograph in the drawing room. He went to let himself in but paused when he’d heard sensual laughter and soft moans. His body moved from the door, down the steps, and around towards the back of the house. He crept stealthily, slowing down when he’d heard his wife’s name in a voice laced with lust…
One hour before:
Amelia held a woven basked against her left hip while she picked a bundle of collards for dinner. Her curly ringlets swept over her face annoyingly. She blew hair from her lips after grabbing the last bit of collards. Amelia makes her way back to the house. She climbed the back steps and through the screen door.
Inside, Amelia looked at Annie who was busy preparing the catfish for frying.
“Got the collards. I’ll go wash ‘em.”
Annie held Amelia’s gaze, “Thank you, Lia.”
Amelia started rinsing the collards off. Annie found herself caught in a trance. Amelia was situated on her knees in front of a bucket of water on the back porch. The motion of Amelia’s hands. The way her curly auburn hair reminded her of cascading stems, twisted leaves, and red, lipstick-shaped flowers.
Annie broke the silence, “Busy day at the shop today.”
“Sure was. Made a good profit too.” Amelia replied.
“…Whatcha think of Smoke?”
Amelia wasn’t expecting that question from Annie. She glanced up through her lashes at her.
“He scares you?” Annie questioned.
Amelia gave Annie a half shrug, “I—He’s a little scary.”
Annie giggled, “A little?”
“He’s a gangster, Annie. Scary comes wit’ the job.” Amelia jokes.
“Smoke is tough, but deep, real deep…he’s a softy.”
Amelia smirked, “Sounds to me you’re his safe space.”
Annie finished prepping the catfish and checked on the frying oil. Amelia brought in the clean collards. Annie situated herself beside Amelia, helping her cut the collards. Amelia stole glances at Annie. Smoke’s coming back did affect Amelia. Ways she never imagined.
“Is this his favorite meal?” Amelia asked.
“Smoke love him some catfish and collards. Throw in some skillet cornbread you got ya’ self a sappy man. Feed him good and put his head between my bosom.”
Amelia laughed lightheartedly. She bumped her hip into Annie’s and Annie reclined her head against Amelia’s shoulder.
“He strikes me as a breast man—”
Amelia stopped herself from talking. She caught Annie smiling at her warmly. Visuals played over and over in her head of the way Smoke sucked on Annie’s bountiful breasts. Like he wanted to fit his entire mouth around all that heaviness.
“He an all up on me man…every inch of me.” Annie spoke with intensity.
Amelia was witnessing in real time the beautiful bond between them. A bond so strong.
“The way he looks at you, it’s just so…so…”
Amelia studied Annie’s face as she tried to convey her feelings.
“…So inspiring.”
Annie’s eyes fell to Amelia’s lips.
“…You saw us havin’ sex…didn’t you?”
Amelia turned away from Annie. She tried to think of a way to respond to her. Too embarrassed to admit it.
“It wasn’t my intention, Annie—I just…”
Annie’s hand pressed against Amelia’s back. Amelia peered into Annie’s eyes. The hand on her back dragged down to her hip and she found herself flesh against Annie. Just like she did Smoke in that Shack, Annie’s lips latched onto Amelia’s ear. Amelia held onto the wash basin to steady herself. Annie’s skillful lips kissing and nibbling on her ear made her legs all wobbly.
“…thing is, I saw ya’ watching, Amelia…I saw ya’ fingering my pussy…”
“Did Smoke—”
“Smoke don’t know nothin’.”
Annie forced Amelia to look at her with a tight hold on her jaw, so tight her lips puckered.
“What happened between us last night…I’ve been fightin’ all damn day to keep from touching ya’. Truth is…I can’t stop…and I won’t stop…”
Amelia melted. Annie stroked her pouty lips with her thumb before sinking it into Amelia’s mouth. Amelia sucked on Annie’s thumb, eyes closed, soft whimpers filling the room. Annie’s thumb slipped away, leaving behind a trail of spit.
“I–I can’t stop daydreaming ‘bout it, Annie. I want ya’ to taste me again…”
Amelia extended a hand and stroked Annie’s cheek with her fingertips. She got up on Annie, breast to breast, and slammed her lips into hers feverishly. The sound of frying oil popping and the insects of the night mingled with smacking lips and soft moans.
Annie groped Amelia’s thick behind through her dress.
“Fuck,” Amelia tongued Annie’s lips, “Let’s go to the room, look how wet I am for you…”
Amelia grabbed Annie’s left hand and snaked it between her legs. Annie stroked Amelia’s pussy through her panties. Soaking wet heat. Annie attacked Amelia’s neck while her fingers pinched her clit through the satin material.
Immediately, Annie could feel her own pussy cat dripping. She wanted so bad to bend Amelia over the wash basin, lift the back of her dress, and ravish her cooze until she cried. Cried for Annie to keep going, cried after each orgasm. Cried like a good little bitch.
Annie needed to stop. If she didn’t, she’d have to eat Amelia on every surface in that house.
“We gotta get this food cooking…”
Annie broke away from Amelia reluctantly. Amelia’s chest heaved up and down. She thumbed away spit from her bottom lip. Annie was right, Smoke could be here any minute. Annie started frying the catfish and Amelia busied herself with the collards. Still, she craved more from Annie.
Sneaky glances, bumping into each other, soft blues with its melancholy instrumental circulating throughout the small home, no matter how hard they tried, neither one of them could resist. Amelia swayed her hips to the rhythm, stirring the pot of collards just the same. Annie had just finished cooking all the catfish and now she was working on the skillet cornbread.
“Shit…”
Amelia glanced over at Annie mixing the cornbread batter. Some of the batter spilled over her hand and fell to the floor. Amelia watched Annie reach for a towel, but before she could use it to wipe her hand clean, Amelia appeared by her side, capturing Annie’s fingers in her mouth.
Annie was paralyzed with lust.
“Amelia…”
Her finger slipped from between Amelia’s pouty lips with a wet pop, “don’t want all that good batter to go to waste.”
Annie’s clit ached.
Amelia trailed Annie’s spit–covered finger down her neck until she circled it around her protruding nipples. Annie’s eyes glossed over with arousal at the sensation of Amelia’s stiff, brown nipples prominently visible through her khaki dress.
“Lia…they so hard…”
Annie regained control of her hands. She cupped Amelia’s breasts and caressed them in a circular motion. Amelia jutted her chest out for more, extending her neck and throwing her head back.
Annie exhales, “You so beautiful, Lia. So soft…so delicious…”
“Not as soft and sweet as you, Annie…”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” Amelia stared deeply into her eyes, “A big, beautiful woman.”
She couldn’t take it anymore.
Buttons undone, Annie smoothed the opening of the khaki dress from Amelia’s satiny, chestnut skin. Her cup bra gave her melons extra lift, fleshy mounds like soft pillows. One by one, Annie released a breast, and she caved at the sight of Amelia’s wrinkled areola and hardened nipples.
Annie wasted no time flicking her tongue over each bud with speed. She circled her arms around Amelia’s waist and made love to her nipples with her teeth, lips, and tongue. Amelia chewed on the corner of her bottom lip, watching Annie move back and forth between each breast. She picked it up a notch and spit on her nipples before tweaking them.
“Annie, I’m so sticky between my legs…you’re making me so weak…” Amelia cooed.
Annie tugged on Amelia’s nipples while sucking on her neck.
“I bet that fat pussy is nice and messy…I know it taste good…”
Amelia whimpered when Annie went back to sucking her nipples. Annie forced one hand down the front of Amelia’s dress and wiggled her hand into her panties.
Annie popped a titty from her mouth, “Damn, wasn’t lying about how sticky you are…c’mon, quick…”
Annie quickly helped Amelia out of her dress and panties. She guided her to the back porch and pushed her down onto a chaise. Amelia didn’t have time to spread her legs and bring her feet up because Annie beat her to it.
“You seein’ this?” Annie questioned with a quiver.
Amelia dropped her hooded eyes down between her thighs. She couldn’t believe how soaked her folds are. Like a succulent storing water. Annie didn’t waste another minute. She smacked her lips and suckled Amelia’s pussy with urgency.
“You needed this pussy in ya’ mouth again look how good ya’ eating it, Annie…”
Amelia palmed Annie’s head. Annie strummed her clit with the tip of her tongue.
Annie’s magical hands shoved Amelia’s thighs back to open her up more. She slurped and lapped at her pussy lips and deeper. Not once did she come up for air. Annie dragged her nails down the back of Amelia’s thighs.
“I’m finna’ cum…”
Amelia stuck two fingers in her mouth to suppress her cries of pleasure. Annie sucked her clit like she was sucking the sweetest juices off. Amelia closed her thighs around Annie’s head.
Smoke remained in the shadows of the Mississippi night and surrounded by evergreen. He had a tight grip on the flowers he’d gotten for Annie. Smoke watched with a twitch of his eyes. Perfectly round and perfectly shaped breasts with brown nipples bounced back and forth. The face of his wife hidden between buttery smooth thighs. The sound of a tongue and the smell of pussy.
His muscles were stiff. Obsidian eyes unblinking. The sharpness of his jaw clenched. Smoke felt all the blood in his veins rush to his dick. Amelia’s face caught the light of the night and it was whimsical. She stroked Annie’s hair affectionately while riding her tongue.
Smoke sensed it. He had a good feeling that Amelia and Annie were fooling around. Now that his suspicions were confirmed, he didn’t know how to handle the way his body felt. A mixture of lust and envy. Lust for the both of them. Lust to taste Amelia off of his wife’s tongue. Lust to join.
Envy because what’s his is on her knees bringing another woman to climax. Envy because whatever they shared, he wanted a piece of. Smoke’s free hand grabbed onto his thick print and squeezed. Tweed material itched his palm. Fuck, he couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. Fuck, he wanted to release his big dick and play with it. The desperation lining his face and the way his tongue smoothed over his teeth, these women sent shockwaves of pleasure through him.
“Annie! I’m cummin’ for you!”
Smoke’s nostrils flared.
“Cum for me, good girl!” Annie praised.
Smoke couldn’t believe the way his dick bulged out.
There was soft laughter followed by Annie surfacing with a wet face and brown eyes drunk with arousal. Amelia cupped her face and flicked her tongue with Annie’s.
“Thank you for that,” Annie kissed Amelia.
“Always,” Amelia spoke against her lips.
They both stood and Annie helped Amelia with her dress. Smoke tip toed away from the yard and pressed his back against the side of the house. He rocked his head back, glancing up at the starry sky. The throb in his dick and balls wouldn’t go away. Kissing his teeth, he drew another cigarette and lit it. His hands shook slightly as he brought it to his full lips.
Amelia.
Her beauty reminded him of a fairy. Something ethereal and magical. Hypnotic. He’d felt it immensely the moment he laid eyes on her. Whatever it is, Annie was under her spell. He’d never known his wife to enjoy some pussy. He had to get himself together before he walked into that house. Shouldn’t be so hard, especially for a gangster with a reputation for violence.
Smoke remained outside for another ten minutes before making his way to the front of the house. He climbed the stairs and twisted the door knob. The door swung open with a creak.
Annie was busy in the kitchen while Amelia plates the table. She wore a different dress, a brightly colored floral dress with a lace–trimmed collar and sleeves. Her long, curly hair was styled in a chic and classic updo with pins. Smoke could tell it was a rush job, because some of the curls framed her face. Amelia’s eyes flicked to Smoke.
Annie looked radiant. She changed into a crushed velvet, dark green dress with chandelier earrings that matched. Her heels click–clacked against the floor boards. Amelia bent over to pick up a cloth that had fallen and the way her backside spread beneath her dress, Smoke’s dick pressed painfully against the seam of his pants. Annie caught his eye and she smiled brightly before making her way over to him. She was wearing her good bra. Those big titties bounced with each step she took.
Smoke gave her a faint smile, holding up the bouquet of flowers. Annie pressed a hand against her bosom and pouted her bottom lip.
“Smoke, these are beautiful!”
Annie accepted the flowers and puckered her lips for a kiss.
“They’re so pretty, Annie,” Amelia said with an elated voice.
Smoke accepted a kiss and then he slipped Annie some tongue. Annie tried to pull away but Smoke placed one strong hand on the back of her neck to keep her tongue in his mouth. The sweet twang of Amelia’s pussy still lingered. Smoke groaned in Annie’s mouth.
Amelia watched them intently while placing silverware on the table. She was absorbed in their intimacy. Smoke caught her eye, staring at her with intensity. Amelia broke her gaze and stroked hair from her face.
He growled.
“Behave,” Annie swatted his bicep, “Dinner is ready. Go clean ya’ hands first.”
Annie turned and Smoke tracked her hips with his eyes.
“Cut all that switchin’ out for I give our guest here a lil’ show.”
That seemed to peak Amelia’s interest. She tried to conceal a smile behind her hand.
“Down, boy,” Annie eyed Smoke up and down.
“Ain’t no boy…”
Smoke tried to stick his fingers in the cornbread. Annie slapped his hand away.
“Go wash ya’ hands, Elijah!”
Smoke pecked Annie’s cheek.
He disappeared to the wash basin.
“Bring anymore wine?” Annie asked.
“Did. It’s on the porch. I’ll go grab some—”
“I got it, Smoke. While you finish washin’ ya’ hands?”
Amelia appeared next to him with an eager smile. Smoke had to collect himself from getting lost in those doe eyes fringed with long lashes.
The very eyes his wife got lost in with a mouth full of pussy.
“Uh, no need, doll. They heavy…”
Smoke wiped his hands on a towel and slipped past Amelia, catching a whiff of her perfume.
Sweet like peaches.
Smoke eyed the table set up, noticing only three plates.
“Shit, forgot to tell ya’ll Stack comin’.”
“No biggie. I’ll put a plate out for ‘em.” Annie replied.
Smoke walked over the threshold and picked up the wooden crate filled with wine and beer. Amelia set up a place for Stack. She walked over to grab an extra chair, but Smoke picked it up before she could. Amelia looked up at him.
“No need, let a man do it.” Smoke said.
“‘Course,” Amelia sauntered back to the table.
Smoke grabbed a bottle of wine.
I’ll put it in the icebox. I know how much you like it chilled.”
Annie brought the food over on serving trays.
Knock knock knock
The door opened.
“Look what the cat dragged in!” Annie said with a laugh.
Amelia’s eyes danced between both men.
Staring at them both, she could tell they were physically identical.
This Stack man just entered the home with a jovial smile filled with deep dimples and golds on his teeth. His eyes sparkled with mischief and foolery.
“Big bro,” Stack dabbed Smoke before pulling him in for a one–armed hug. They did a slick handshake and glided back into a snap, “Woooo, good to see ya’.”
“Just saw ya’ earlier,” Smoke said.
Stack took off his suit jacket and hung it on a coat rack near the front door. His playful, lively eyes fell on Amelia.
Amelia gave Stack a shy wave. Stack strode forward, dapper gait drawing her in.
“Well, well,” Stack nibbled on the toothpick between his teeth and dragged his eyes over Amelia’s frame from head to toe with a tilt of his head, “Who this here, Annie?”
“My friend, Amelia,” Annie’s arm circled Amelia’s waist, “She came all this way from New Orleans to work wit’ me. I’m teachin’ her all I know about hoodoo.”
“She talk?” Stack questions with his brows pinched together and a twitch of his upper lip.
Smoke chuckled low, shaking his head at his brothers antics, “Chill now, Stack.”
“I’m only askin’.”
Stack held his hand out in greeting. Amelia eyed his hand with a slight lift of her brow before extending her hand with the back facing up. Stack wrapped his fingers around her.
“Amelia, huh?
“That’s right.”
Stack pushed the toothpick between his teeth to the side of his mouth. Cute little voice. Sounding like a princess in those fairytales.
“So, you do talk?”
Stack removed his toothpick and leaned in. With her hand still within his grasp, Stack puckered his plump lips and pecked Amelia’s hand like a true gentleman.
“Nice to meet ya’ gorgeous. Hope the Delta treatin’ you right.”
“Is. Thanks to Annie.”
Amelia smiled brightly. Stack stroked the back of her hand with his thumb before finally letting her go. Amelia fiddled with her fingers, darting her eyes away bashfully before swaying over to the table.
Smoke caught his brother’s eye.
Annie cleared her throat.
“Oh, let me clean these hands off.” Stack said.
He walked past the table, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips at the sight of all the food. Smoke pulled out Annie’s chair, and with one hand he pulled out Amelia’s chair. She curtsied before taking her seat. Stack finally joined them, unbuttoning the sleeves to his white shirt and rolling them up his forearms.
“Catfish, collard greens, cornbread, DAMN.”
They each took turns filling their plates.
“Amelia cooked the collards,” Annie shot her friend a look followed by a smile.
“Did she now? Let’s see what we got here…”
Stack and Smoke forked the collards in unison, not even realizing it. Amelia’s eyes danced between them with fascination. Smoke chewed slowly, eyes fixed on Amelia. Stack chewed with his eyes closed, shook his head, followed by a hum of delight.
“Baby girl…you put ya’ foot in this! Gahdamn…”
Annie nudged Amelia with her elbow. Amelia beamed.
Smoke nodded his head before scraping the side of his upper teeth with his tongue.
“They good, Amelia. Real good.”
Amelia twirled the fork in her hand with pride.
“Thank you, Smoke,” She glanced over at his twin, “Stack…”
“Forgot the wine…”
Smoke stood.
“You put a beer in there, Smoke?!”
“I gotcha,” Smoke continued out onto the front porch to grab the drinks.
Stack scarfed down the collards first, fork scraping the plate. Smoke returned and opened the wine, pouring the ladies two glasses full. He unscrewed the cap on the beer for Stack, sliding it across the table where his twin brother caught it with precision.
“Everythang alright, Annie?” Stack asked.
“Better,” Annie locked eyes with her husband, “happy you two made it back in one piece.”
Smoke cut into his catfish with his fork. He added a little hot sauce to it.
“I bet Chicago is nice,” Amelia chimed in, “skyscrapers, broadway…”
“Look nice. Still just the same as the south.” Stack said.
“Did you two stop by to see Sammie?” Annie asked.
Smoke nodded his head, “He good. Still got that guitar we gave ‘em. Daddy doin’ right by ‘em.”
Amelia nibbled on her cornbread drizzled with honey and butter. Stack cleared his plate and sat back to enjoy his beer. He couldn’t help but stare at Amelia. She could feel his eyes on her, looking across the table at him with a piece of cornbread between her fingers and hovering over her pouty lips.
“Amelia. Got a last name?” Stack questions.
“Broussard.”
“Pretty…”
Amelia coaxed the piece of cornbread into her mouth with her tongue. Stack continued to lay on the charm with his deep dimples and attentive eyes. He took a swig of beer as he stared down Amelia like she was the only person who existed.
Smoke glanced between the two of them, fingers digging into his pocket for a cigarette. He grabbed his last one and lit it. Annie sipped her wine and smiled at her husband. Smoke caught her looking and winked at her. Annie placed her hand on his thigh, caressing it.
“We never crossed paths?” Stack questioned Amelia with an expression of betrayal.
“No, Stack,” Amelia giggled genuinely, “Never.”
“You sure,” Stack pointed at her with a finger decorated with a gold ring, “Damn shame. Can’t believe this my first time seeing ya’. Annie, you been keepin’ her to ya’ self?”
Annie gave Stack a coy smile and then locked eyes with Amelia. Both of them looked away quickly, but Smoke was paying attention. He knew everything. She definitely is keeping Amelia to herself. Smoke leaned in to whisper in Annie’s ear.
“You got explaining to do later, baby…”
Annie cocked her head back and dropped her eyes to Smoke’s lips.
“Not as much explaining as you do, Smoke.” She quipped with a roll of her eyes.
Stack filled Amelia’s mason jar with more wine.
“Thank you kindly.”
“Anytime…”
Stack swept his hands down the front of his chest slowly, Amelia shyly pulled her attention to the last bit of food on her plate.
She loved Stack’s energy.
It excites her.
Some time passed and Duke Ellington Orchestra filled the drawing room. While Annie perched her big booty on Smoke’s lap, Stack twirled Amelia around like a merry go round, her dress spinning as she moved. Stack could jive! Amelia grabbed both of his hands and flailed her legs, laughed at Stack’s silly faces, and shook her hips.
Annie tapped her foot to the music. Smoke bobbed his head. Annie’s gyrating in his lap awoke the beast. He looked up at her. Annie felt him poking her rump. She picked up the pace of her hips, teasing him more.
“Annie…”
“What? You sticking me in the ass wit’ that dick.”
“Keep movin’ on me I can’t help it.” Smoke whispered.
“I felt that,” Annie was referring to Smoke making his dick jump, “Elijah…”
There was warning in her voice.
Stack exhaled, wiping sweat from his grow. Amelia fanned herself. Stack held Amelia’s waist as they swayed, hips pressed to each other’s and twin smiles on their faces.
“You the best fuckin’ dancer I ever seen.” Stack said.
“Aren’t you sweet,” Amelia bopped Stack on the nose with her finger, “And you a good time.”
“I try. Gotta make the most outta life with all the other bullshit goin’ on.” Stack replied.
Amelia snaked her arms around Stack’s shoulders.
“You got the sweetest eyes…mind if I call you Princess?”
Amelia chewed on her bottom lip and smoothed her hands down Stack’s chest.
“How much Irish beer you drank?” Amelia asked with a teasing smile, “that liquor got you sweet on me.”
“Not enough,” Stack peeled away from Amelia, “Let me grab some mo’!”
Amelia shook her head at Stack.
Smoke and Annie were dancing now. Amelia took a seat to cool off and removed her shoes. She massaged her left heel and flexed her toes painted red. Stack sought her out and took a seat next to her with a new beer. He slouched in his seat and swung his legs.
Smoke and Annie shared a passionate kiss in the middle of a slow waltz.
Amelia moved her hands up the back of her legs while flexing her ankles. Stack’s eyes were focused on her movements, studying her pretty toes.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Amelia teased.
“I’d take pictures of you any day. I got a camera back home.”
“So, photography ya’ hobby when you ain’t robbing banks and trains?”
Stack smirked with a single dimple.
“Sum’ like that. Whatchu like to do?”
Amelia pondered, “Reading. I love escaping from reality. Picture myself in a castle in the tallest tower…or going on an adventure…or falling in love…”
Stack studied Amelia. His beer was halfway through.
“We all need a lil’ break from the real, ya’ know?” Stack said.
“Yeah,” Amelia nudged Stack’a shoulder, “If ya’ ever need a good book to read, I’m ya’ girl.”
Stack licked his lips, “I’ll hold you to it, Princess.”
Stack and Smoke shared a cigarette on the front porch while talking closely to each other.
Annie and Amelia had just finished cleaning up. Amelia yawned into her hand. She felt lightweight and relaxed from all the wine.
“Had fun tonight?” Annie asked.
“It was wonderful, Annie. Best time in a long while.”
Amelia wiped her hands off with a towel while staring at the twins in deep concentration.
“Ya’ like Stack?”
Amelia looked at Annie, “He’s a good time. And he’s handsome.”
Annie glanced towards the door. Smoke and Stack had their backs turned. Annie slithered her way over to Amelia, dropping her head to her ear to whisper.
“Careful wit’ ‘em Moore men. They’ll turn your world upside down.”
Annie’s warm breath ghosted across Amelia’s cheek. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She kept her eyes forward.
“And it’s been a while since Nathaniel had ya’ right?”
Amelia clenched her thighs together.
Annie pecked Amelia on the cheek.
“Get you some rest. I’ll see ya’ in the morning.”
“Night, Annie.” Amelia said.
Annie disappeared into her room. Smoke heard the door shut and walked back inside followed by Stack. Stack shut the door behind him. Both men stared at Amelia. Smoke with an unreadable expression and Stack with a flirty smile. She looked away before heading to her room.
“I see ya’ later brother—”
“No, no, no. It’s late stay here.”
“I be aight—”
“Stack. Keep yo’ ass here, understand? Ya’ had too much to drink.”
Stack kissed his teeth, “Then where I’m a sleep, fool? On this hard as floor? In the truck? In your room—”
“Nigga—”
“You can sleep in my room.”
Smoke and Stack looked down at Amelia.
“There’s extra blankets and a pillow.”
“Hm,” Smoke eyed Amelia from head to toe, “See? Now ya’ got an excuse to stay.”
Smoke tapped Stack’s shoulder before backing away to his room. He left his twin brother and Amelia standing there.
Stack was wearing his white button shirt tucked into his pinstriped slacks. The first few buttons on his shirt were undone. A chain hung from his neck with a tiny medallion. The same one Smoke wore.
“Well,” Stack ushered Amelia towards the room with his hand, “Lead the way, Princess.”
Amelia took slow strides towards the room. Inside, she grabbed extra blankets and one of the pillows from the bed.
“Aye, I got this,” Stack piled the blankets on the floor with the pillow, “I’ll give ya’ a second to change.”
Stack left the room and shut the door. Amelia opened the wardrobe in the room and picked out a lavender chemise with a matching robe. She undressed quickly, slipping on the chemise.
“Stack, you can come in,” Amelia climbed into bed.
The door opened and Stack peeked inside.
“All decent, Princess?”
“Yes,” Amelia slipped beneath the sheets.
Stack walked in, took off his shoes, and his shirt. Amelia chewed on her lip while her eyes swept over Stack’s burly frame. Bulging biceps, a thick yet toned torso, defined pecs. Stack tossed his shirt over a chair in the room and lowered to the floor. He was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Amelia turned off the kerosene lamp, bathing the room in mostly darkness.
“Goodnight, Stack.” Amelia said.
“Sweet dreams, Princess.”
On the other side of the house, Annie watched her husband strip down to his underwear, the fabric of his boxer shorts riding up his well–muscled thighs. His mojo bag sat between his pecs along with a necklace that mirrored Stacks. He tied a pressing cap over his hair to make the brush wave style Stack did last longer.
Annie wore a champagne–colored night gown that left little support for her large and heavy breasts, but it was breathable. Her hair was wrapped in a white scarf. Smoke sat on the edge of the bed. Annie got onto her knees behind him, massaging his shoulders.
“What explaining I gotta do, Elijah?” Annie asked.
Smoke shut his eyes and licked his lips with one swipe of his tongue.
“You sure Amelia just your Hoodoo apprentice, baby?”
Annie huffed, “What? Whatchu mean?”
“Ya’ know what I mean, Annie.”
Annie paused.
“…Smoke…”
Smoke looked up at Annie over his shoulder. Annie couldn’t hold his gaze.
“…How you find out?” Annie questioned with a tremble of her voice.
Smoke didn’t respond right away.
“I heard ya’ name, baby. I heard her moaning ya’ name. Then I saw it…I saw you tongue deep in her cooze…”
Annie’s eyes darted to the floor. She slipped her hands away and sat back on her knees. Smoke stood from the bed, facing her.
“How many times?”
Smoke folded his arms over his chest.
Annie shut her eyes slow.
“Three.” She revealed.
Smoke cocked his head.
“You fuck her three times, Annie?”
“Yes…I did,” Annie fiddled with her fingers, “It just—”
“I neva knew you to cheat on me, let alone wit’ a woman?”
Smoke shook his head in disbelief.
What Annie did next surprised him.
She laughed. Smoke furrowed his brows.
“Oh, Elijah,” Annie shook her head between laughs, “You left me for seven years. What did you think I was gon’ do?”
“I came back to you! I love you!” Smoke fired back.
He lowered his voice.
“Stop. Just stop it, Smoke. Ya’ like it.”
“Huh?” Smoke curled his top lip.
“Ya’ heard me. That’s why ya’ kissed me like that before dinner. Ya’ wanted to taste her.”
Smoke shifted his head and shoulders.
“I coulda’ put a root on that dick but I didn’t. Don’t stand there all tough and shit. I know you.”
Annie stood, walking up to Smoke. She got in his face with her hands on her hips.
“Say it. Ya’ like it.” Annie pressed.
“Annie—”
Annie cut him off, “Ya’ wanna play games, I can play wit ya’. Admit to it, ya’ liked seeing me eat her pussy…ya’ liked the way she reacted to it…ya’ like me being wit’ another woman.”
Smoke growled. He wasn’t trying to give in. Annie pressed up on him, never backing down, eyes glued to his.
“Say. It. Nigga.” Annie pressed with sass.
Smoke clenched his jaw. Annie lowered her searing gaze down between her husband’s legs. She almost whimpered. Thick dick twisted to the side in his boxer shorts and poking out the bottom. A big dick.
“…Fine,” Smoke stared her in the eyes, “Yeah. Yeah. I liked it.”
Annie tilted her head, “Wasn’t so hard, now…was it?”
Smoke clenched his shaky hands.
“Shit,” Smoke glared at Annie, “The way you looked…”
Annie placed her hand on Smoke’s chest. She glided it down his body until she was cuffing his dick. It seemed to pulsate in her hand. Annie curled her fingers around his shaft through his boxer shorts. Smoke worried his brows and parted his full lips.
“How did I look, Papa?” Annie whispered seductively.
“So sexy…”
Smoke grabbed Annie’s face and pressed his lips against hers. Their tongues swirled in a sloppy manner. Smoke lowered the straps to her night gown and Annie pulled his boxer shorts down until it fell around his ankles. Smoke stepped out of them, standing before Annie in all his naked glory.
“You actin’ all upset. For what?”
Annie dropped to her knees. Smoke’s big dick was pointed out and curved to the left. Annie looked up at her husband and then wrapped a warm hand around him, stroking him with a twist of her wrist.
“Alls you had to do was be real wit’ me, Elijah.”
Annie tongued the pre cum from his tip. Smoke placed his hands on Annie’s shoulders. He bowed his head to watch her, bottom lip wedged between his teeth.
“You know I’m right,” Annie dragged her tongue along the side of his shaft, “Don’t ya’?”
“Yeah,” Smoke licked his lips, “Stop teasing me, baby…”
Annie wrapped her lips around Smoke’s big dick and fit him all the way down her throat. Annie began sucking, down to the base and back to the tip. She tightened her jaws and rolled her neck to get a good rhythm. Smoke groaned deeply, hand on Annie’s head. Smoke tilted her head back a little so he could fuck her throat with slow, deliberate strokes.
“Fuck, Annie…deep throat on you…”
She was sucking on his pipe and looking him dead in his eyes.
Annie’s sucking made loud, wet sounds and left saliva all over her chin down to her chest.
“Damn,” Smoke could cum from how good it felt, “I wanna eat your pussy.”
Smoke slipped out of Annie’s mouth, dick dripping with spit and throbbing. Deep veins like loving trails for Annie’s tongue. Smoke picked Annie up and put her on her stomach. Annie arched her back and Smoke got down on his knees. He spread Annie’s big cheeks, keeping her open with a firm grip. He caught a whiff of that cooze and almost drooled down his chin.
“So beautiful…so beautiful.”
Smoke rubbed his face in it.
Smoke slobbered all over it.
Smoke sucked to his heart’s desire.
Smoke spanked those cheeks.
Annie was a moaning mess. She couldn’t form words, only sounds.
“Mm…oof…unh…ooo…ahhh…”
Smoke flipped her over. He pushed Annie’s thighs back so far her titties sat beneath her chin. Annie watched Smoke between her fat titties and round belly. He tongue fucked her, got his nose up in it, munched on it all with his eyes on her. Annie’s toes curled at the way his fluffy lips sucked on her clit.
“Smoke!”
She was loud, and she didn’t give a damn.
He ate her pussy up.
Smoke surfaced. He fisted his dick and then pointed it at Annie’s gushy.
“Had my dick so fuckin’ stiff—”
Smoke pushed in and started stroking. Annie watched Smoke’s hips grind, loving his stroke and how it pressed deep to make her cream.
“I’m creaming it, huh?” Smoke slapped her titties.
“Papa!”
“Uh-huh…”
Annie’s titties swayed in a circular motion. Smoke had her thighs out the way. Annie had nowhere to run. He looked up staring into the mirror situated in the corner. A slow smirk painted his lips. Sharp, calculated strokes had Annie gripping him with her walls.
“Cum on Papa’s dick, baby…”
Annie’s eyes crossed. Smoke’s mojo bag dangled in her face.
“Fuck, Annie! This good pussy!”
Smoke’s hips stuttered out of control. The bed creaked from the withering springs. Smoke shot off a thick nut deep inside of Annie’s womb. He propped himself up, staring down at her as sweat dripped onto her. Annie was experiencing an orgasmic high.
“Just what I needed,” Annie opened her eyes to stare at her husband, “I love you, Smoke.”
Smoke grabbed Annie’s hand that was stroking his face and kissed it.
“I love ya’, baby. I’m not mad about Amelia.”
“Ya’ sure?”
“I is,” Smoke leaned forward to kiss Annie, “Just a lil’ jealous. She got ya’ under a spell, baby. Three times?”
Annie giggles, “It’s that good. She tasted good on my tongue?”
Smoke responded with his lips sucking on Annie’s titties.
“I take it that’s a yes?”
Annie lifted Smoke’s face.
“She gon’ be here a while, Smoke…”
Annie thumbed Smoke’s bottom lip.
“…Then we give her a proper welcome.”
Annie’s eyes lit up.
Smoke let Annie up to get dressed. He decided to sleep naked. Annie turned off the kerosene lamp and Smoke settled behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his front. Annie’s backside snuggled against his dick. The pale moonlight bathed their bodies, the sweat on their dark skin glistening.
art will save you, being unreasonably passionate about something niche will save you, letting past sources of joy show you the way back to yourself will save you, earnestness over composure will save you, the natural world will save you, caring for something bigger than yourself will save you, daring to be seen will save you, kindness not as a whim but a principle will save you, appreciation as a practice will save you, daring to try something new will save you, grounding will save you, love will save you, one good nights sleep will save you
hate when people are like "trust your gut! listen to your intuition!" like okay well my gut is telling me every person i lay eyes on is hunting me for sport and my intuition is saying i should find a secluded cave and live there forever so what do you suggest i do with that information
(Semi-serious answer to joke post incoming) If your gut is sending you endless “UNSAFE!” signals in a situation your logic brain knows is safe, then you trust it by kind of treating it like a conversation with a screaming parrot.
Like going “ok, Gut, what feels unsafe?” And it’ll say “PEOPLE IN THE GROCERY STORE”
and you go, “huh, ok. People in the grocery store aren’t usually dangerous…what makes them scary in the grocery store?” And it’ll go “LOUD AND RUSHED AND BUSY”
and you go “ok, people in the grocery store are probably not dangerous but they’re loud and rushed and busy. Loud and rushed and busy makes me feel stressed. How about we wear earplugs to make it less noisy and go at a less busy time of day?”
And then sometimes you try that and your gut goes “HMMM GROCERY STORE SAFER?” And you go, “yes, grocery store safer.”
Your gut isn’t necessarily correct that the SITUATION is unsafe but it’s usually right that your body/brain FEELS unsafe in the situation. You can trust it by approaching it with curiosity and usually learn something.
When it comes to death, there are many variations of gods that come to our mind from different cultures, since this process is an inevitable and crucial part of all our lives notwithstanding our ethnicity, race, social status, religious beliefs, etc.
Most of us heard about one such deity: Santa Muerte, who is commonly known as a folk saint and is closely associated with Mexican el Día de Muertos or Day of the Dead. Usually she is depicted as a skeleton with traditional feminine features, long hair, flower wreath and in a bright dress.
Despite her status among Spanish Catholics, the catholic church doesn’t accept her as an official saint since some other figures play this role in catholicism, as well as Santa Muerte’s eerie connections with witchcraft and narco cartels don’t quite fit Christian morals.
But what do we know about the origin of the Mother of Death?
Origin
Although Santa Muerte is an unofficial catholic saint, her roots are more complex than they seem and aren’t limited by her status among Spanish Catholics.
There are a few main theories of where Santa Muerte comes from:
Aztec death deity Mictecacihuatl
Figure of Grim Reaper during Black Death
African death goddesses
And more others.
But there is no general agreement on which one is true. It can be confusing, but at the same time, it allows us to analyze and define the truth for ourselves.
Still there is one most popular theory which is related to Aztec beliefs.
Aztec death goddess
As we know, Santa Muerte has the most popularity in Mexico. From the history overview, the Valley of Mexico was earlier the Aztec home before the conquest of this land by the Spanish in the early 16th century.
Before Mexican el Día de Muertos, the Aztecs had their own celebration connected to several death gods: Mictecacihuatl and Mictlantecuhtli. Few principal gods were represented as female (Mictecacihuatl) and male (Mictlantecuhtli) embodiments of death and rulers of Mictlan (underworld).
!For the remark: they are not the only ones, there was goddess Tonantzin as well, but she is related to the other catholic figure.
One of the theories is that Mictecacihuatl and Santa Muerte are the same deity because the Spanish had to accept some Aztec customs due to their cooperation. Also, Mictecacihuatl was a dominant death deity in the Aztec pantheon, so it was important to save her figure even under a different name.
Many faces of Mother of Death
Apart from Santa Muerte’s grim image and direct relation to death, she is patient with the newbies and her devotees and has a pleasant presence and nurturing nature.
Like all deities, Lady of Death is versatile and can be both gentle and destructive. Don’t be surprised to learn that she has a strong connection with drug traffickers and many of them honour this goddess so she gives them protection and prosperity.
Another feature is that Mother of Death accepts all people since death doesn’t care about your social status, sexual orientation, colour of skin, gender, and any other things. She is a protector of those who are rejected by society and helps them to stay safe and find their way in life.
But you need to keep in mind that she should be respected as any other deity and she won’t forgive your ignorance or rudeness towards her.
How to start working with Santa Muerte
As many of us know, it is important to understand which aspects have certain deities when we start working with them. It helps us to figure out for what purposes we can contact them.
Santa Muerte is an universal goddess who has keys to the many doors on our paths. It is no wonder, because death is ever-present and has power over all.
When you decide that you would like to ask Santa Muerte for something, you should define your request and reach out to one of her seven colours or aspects.
!However, if you aren’t sure which colour is right, it is fine to reach out to Santa Muerte without referring to a certain aspect of her.
The Seven Colors of Santa Muerte
I will give a short guide of her seven colours, so it will be easier to define which aspect is most suitable for your problem or situation.
Niña Blanca, White Santa Muerte
Protection, cleansing, renewal, starting new projects, healing, opening new paths, punishing enemies.
Partnerships, social life, human interactions (she can both harmonize and destroy relationships).
Niña Dorada, Golden Santa Muerte
Money, wealth, prosperity, fate, luck (as well as lack of money, poverty and bad luck for enemies).
Niña Roja, Red or Pink Santa Muerte
Romantic relationships, love, lust, attracting a partner (it is possible to punish unfaithful partners with Red Santa Muerte’s help).
Niña Verde, Green Santa Muerte
Winning legal cases, justice, defining truth, protection from criminals, imprisoning someone, making someone commit illegal acts, endanger someone to be robbed or assaulted.
Niña Negra, Black Santa Muerte
Neutralizing curses, malevolent spirits, ending bad luck or all kinds of problems, protection, spiritual transformations, harming enemies.
Associations
Planetary aspects:
Moon and Saturn (but it can vary depending on the aspect)
Scythe, skull, flower wreath, golden jewelry, scale, cloak
Tarot:
Death, Queen of Swords, Judgement, the Empress, the High Priestess, the Hierophant (but it depends on your perception as well)
Offerings
Tequila, red wine, chocolate (or any other sweets), red apples, pomegranates, fruits (especially exotic ones such as pineapples, mangoes, dragon fruits), coffee and cacao, salt, bread, flowers (mostly red or white roses), red meat, chicken hearts, candles (the colour depends on the aspect or you can choose the black one as universal), incenses.
𖤐
Let me know if you would like new posts about Santa Muerte. Mother and I will be happy to tell you a lot more.
Embodying the Divine Feminine Archetypes: Tap into Their Empowering Essence
I'm thrilled to introduce something close to my heart – a series exploring the beautiful intersections of femininity and spirituality. Your interest and engagement have inspired me to dedicate a weekly post to these topics, separate from my usual astrology content.
Stay tuned for our upcoming discussions, and I'll also be sharing updates on my 11th and 12th house planets soon.
What's a Feminine Archetype?
An archetype is like a blend of qualities, thoughts, and behaviours that shine through a person, whether they're a woman or a man.
We're all a mix of both divine feminine and masculine energies. But in a world where the feminine often goes unnoticed, both its light and shadow sides can show up in various ways.
A divine feminine archetype? It's when a woman embraces the purest form of her feminine energies.
Key Feminine Archetypes
Feminine archetypes can be a puzzle. Some say there are three, some seven, and some even 13! The truth is, there's a lot of info out there. But what's important is finding the ones that resonate with you.
The Significance of Feminine Archetypes
Feminine archetypes create a tapestry of balance in our lives. Our aim isn't to be just one archetype, but to blend their energies dynamically. Each serves a purpose, like seasons in life, enriching our existence.
While one archetype might resonate strongly at times, the goal is an all-encompassing dance with these twelve facets, celebrating your unique self.
The Quadrants of Balance
Nature has seasons, and archetypes have roles. Four quadrants create harmony: Disrupt, Restore, Create, and Nurture.
Disrupt: Warrior, Wild Woman, Enchantress. Embrace their chaos for fresh beginnings.
Restore: Maiden, Healer, Lover. Find strength in grace and play.
Create: Visionary, Creator, Queen. Birth beauty from inspiration.
Nurture: Mother, Wise Woman, Priestess. Preserve and cherish what IS.
{made with the Ancestors and Great Spirits of the African Diaspora in mind, here's what I associate with each day of the week and the children of the diaspora born therein:
Monday's child is fair of face
Tuesday's child is full of grace
Wednesday's child is full of woe
Thursday's child has far to go
Friday's child is loving and giving
Saturday's child works hard for a living
And the child born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, good and gay.
Monday: masters of finding new roads and moving forwards, tearing down blockages, trailblazers and warriors. Artists of all kinds, writers, poets, singers.
Tuesday: embodiment of thunderstorms, winds, omens, they're powerful conjurers with hot hands, always busy, always moving. Often times scholars, historians.
Wednesday: defenders, protectors, of humanity and nature as a whole. Warrior spirits at their core, but also great diviners and mediums.
Thursday: eloquent muses of the arts of love and war alike, great beauties who lead armies with equal charm and force. Sweetening, love and luck workings come easy to them.
Friday: personification of abundance and status. A commanding presence. Building legacy, great manifestors and conjurers, specially for work and finances.
Saturday: guardians of waters and the beyond. Community leaders, gifted healers, divine messengers. Carrying all the wisdom of the Elders and Ancestors.
Sunday: priests and priestesses that defy status quo, very old Ancestors coming back to reshape and rebirth reality. They will enter your life and purge every aspect of it.}
Hoodoo, Rootwork and Conjure sources by Black Authors
Because you should only ever be learning your ancestral ways from kinfolk. Here's a compilation of some books, videos and podcast episodes I recommend reading and listening to, on customs, traditions, folk tales, songs, spirits and history. As always, use your own critical thinking and spiritual discernment when approaching these sources as with any others.
Hoodoo in America by Zora Neale Hurston (1931)
Mules and Men by Zora Neale Hurston (1936)
Tell my horse by Zora Neale Hurston (1938)
Let Nobody Turn Us Around: An African American Anthology by Manning Marable and Leith Mullings, editors (2003)
Black Magic: Religion and the African American Conjuring Tradition by Yvonne P. Chireau (2006)
African American Folk Healing by Stephanie Mitchem (2007)
Hoodoo Medicine: Gullah Herbal Remedies by Faith Mitchell (2011)
Mojo Workin': The Old African American Hoodoo System by Katrina Hazzard-Donald (2012)
Rootwork: Using the Folk Magick of Black America for Love, Money and Success by Tayannah Lee McQuillar (2012)
Talking to the Dead: Religion, Music, and Lived Memory among Gullah/Geechee Women by LeRhonda S. Manigault-Bryant (2014)
Working the Roots: Over 400 Years Of Traditional African American Healing by Michele Elizabeth Lee (2017)
Barracoon: The Story of the Last "Black Cargo" by Zora Neale Hurston (2018)
Jambalaya: The Natural Woman's Book of Personal Charms and Practical Rituals by Luisa Teish (2021)
African American Herbalism: A Practical Guide to Healing Plants and Folk Traditions by Lucretia VanDyke (2022)
These are just some suggestions but there's many many more!! This is by no means a complete list.
I recommend to avoid authors who downplay the importance of black history or straight out deny how blackness is central to hoodoo. The magic, power and ashé is in the culture and bloodline. You can't separate it from the people. I also recommend avoiding or at the very least taking with a huge grain of salt authors with ties to known appropriators and marketeers, and anyone who propagates revisionist history or rather denies historical facts and spreads harmful conspiracy theories. Sadly, that includes some black authors, particularly those who learnt from, and even praise, white appropriators undermining hoodoo and other african and african diasporic traditions. Be careful who you get your information from. Keeping things traditional means honoring real history and truth.
Let me also give you a last but very important reminder: the best teachings you'll ever get are going to come from the mouths of your own blood. Not a book or anything on the internet. They may choose to put certain people and things in your path to help you or point you in the right direction, but each lineage is different and you have to honor your own. Talk to your family members, to the Elders in your community, learn your genealogy, divine before moving forwards, talk to your dead, acknowledge your people and they'll acknowledge you and guide you to where you need to be.
May this be of service and may your ancestors and spirits bless you and yours 🕯️💀
For general graphics: use GIMP
For vector graphics: use Inkscape
For drawing and illustration: use Krita
For print and web publishing and design: use Penpot
For PDF authoring: use LibreOffice
For PDF reading and form filling: use Okular
All are free, open source and cross-platform. None use AI.
"nothing is real atoms never touch each other youve never touched anything in your life" ok. well when i pet my dog he is soft and when he licks my hand it is wet and that is far more real to me than whatevers going on at an atomic level
nuclei don't touch, but the nucleus is not the core of reality. reality is made of electrons dancing. reality is made of bonds.
you pet your dog and the atoms that are you brush up against the atoms that are him, and the electrons that are you press into the electrons that are him, and both of them change their movement.
electrons of course are not really particles and do not really move.
you pet your dog and the electron-orbitals of your skin overlap with the electron-orbitals of his fur, and both are changed by the contact. you are not made of little motes floating alone in a void. you are a single unfathomable chord formed of a trillion vibrations, and so is he. and the note you play is changing at every moment by what you touch and how you breathe, and so is his. and atoms do not really have edges, and to touch is to interact, and when you put your hand on your dog the universe does not know that you are separate. the song expands to hold you both.
Hoodoo, Rootwork and Conjure sources by Black Authors
Because you should only ever be learning your ancestral ways from kinfolk. Here's a compilation of some books, videos and podcast episodes I recommend reading and listening to, on customs, traditions, folk tales, songs, spirits and history. As always, use your own critical thinking and spiritual discernment when approaching these sources as with any others.
Hoodoo in America by Zora Neale Hurston (1931)
Mules and Men by Zora Neale Hurston (1936)
Tell my horse by Zora Neale Hurston (1938)
Let Nobody Turn Us Around: An African American Anthology by Manning Marable and Leith Mullings, editors (2003)
Black Magic: Religion and the African American Conjuring Tradition by Yvonne P. Chireau (2006)
African American Folk Healing by Stephanie Mitchem (2007)
Hoodoo Medicine: Gullah Herbal Remedies by Faith Mitchell (2011)
Mojo Workin': The Old African American Hoodoo System by Katrina Hazzard-Donald (2012)
Rootwork: Using the Folk Magick of Black America for Love, Money and Success by Tayannah Lee McQuillar (2012)
Talking to the Dead: Religion, Music, and Lived Memory among Gullah/Geechee Women by LeRhonda S. Manigault-Bryant (2014)
Working the Roots: Over 400 Years Of Traditional African American Healing by Michele Elizabeth Lee (2017)
Barracoon: The Story of the Last "Black Cargo" by Zora Neale Hurston (2018)
Jambalaya: The Natural Woman's Book of Personal Charms and Practical Rituals by Luisa Teish (2021)
African American Herbalism: A Practical Guide to Healing Plants and Folk Traditions by Lucretia VanDyke (2022)
These are just some suggestions but there's many many more!! This is by no means a complete list.
I recommend to avoid authors who downplay the importance of black history or straight out deny how blackness is central to hoodoo. The magic, power and ashé is in the culture and bloodline. You can't separate it from the people. I also recommend avoiding or at the very least taking with a huge grain of salt authors with ties to known appropriators and marketeers, and anyone who propagates revisionist history or rather denies historical facts and spreads harmful conspiracy theories. Sadly, that includes some black authors, particularly those who learnt from, and even praise, white appropriators undermining hoodoo and other african and african diasporic traditions. Be careful who you get your information from. Keeping things traditional means honoring real history and truth.
Let me also give you a last but very important reminder: the best teachings you'll ever get are going to come from the mouths of your own blood. Not a book or anything on the internet. They may choose to put certain people and things in your path to help you or point you in the right direction, but each lineage is different and you have to honor your own. Talk to your family members, to the Elders in your community, learn your genealogy, divine before moving forwards, talk to your dead, acknowledge your people and they'll acknowledge you and guide you to where you need to be.
May this be of service and may your ancestors and spirits bless you and yours 🕯️💀
Throughout my life I've heard the word "energy" used, viewed and treated in the spiritual sphere as some ethereal, supernatural force. I even saw a TikTok the other day claiming that secular and atheist witches do not believe in energy work. I'm not sure where this treatment of the term "energy" started, but it likely has a lot to do with some more "woo" practices like Reiki and crystal healing.
I think we need to remove this stigma from the term "energy" in the Craft because 1) energy is an objectively real, observable material and 2) the benefits of working with and understanding energy shouldn't be packaged and branded as a medium for the "mystics only" club. This was something really meaningful that I took from Psychic Witch, where Mat Auryn explains energy in more scientifically observable terms.
Rather than defining energy as a mystical force, he explains that reality is, in fact, entirely composed of energy. The majority of us don't really think about reality this way, but anyone who has taken a physics class can tell you that this is a fact. Reality is energy--this is not a mystical perspective; it is a fact of the laws of physics. The scientific method has shown us that even things that appear solid, (diamonds, skeletons, my coffee mug, for example) are merely energies vibrating at a slower rate. Everything is made of particles perpetually in motion.
Still with me? Okay, so--Auryn breaks this down further by stating that the five senses are just various ways that we perceive energy. So in a sense, we are achieving a rudimentary form of energy work just by perceiving the world around us. Put in this context, many other animals are superior to humans with certain types of energy work (I wonder if this is part of why animals are so sacred to us witches). Dolphins and bats can legitimately use echolocation to experience sound waves as a form of sight. Indeed, we humans are far from the top of the totem pole when it comes to energy perception--it's almost as if humans were not created to rule over the rest of the earth (such a crazy concept).
Some examples of energy that our bodies cannot perceive include magnetic fields, radiation, wireless signals, and ultraviolet light.
What I'm trying to say is that Auryn's book really helped me to think of energy in terms of empirical reality, and reinforced my (somewhat) recent realization that magick is a valid, observably effective tool that can be used to achieve the changes we want.
Honestly the best piece of advice I can give to younger girls trying to figure life out is to completely ignore men. I’m not being quirky or cute when I say that, I mean it seriously. Ignore men’s judgments of you, ignore their insincere compliments, ignore their half-assed romance. Focus on developing yourself. Practice your art, play sports, do theater, volunteer, spend time with your friends, but do not put substantial effort into pleasing men. They’ll be there for you to pursue when the time comes and if you want to. But nothing will waste your youth more than fighting for male acceptance.
