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thekatebridgerton · 3 years ago

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Is it bad that I don't want Sophie Beckett to be a POC? It's because putting a POC in a Cinderella story (which Sophie and Benedict's story is), opens up to the dangerous white savior trope with the rich white man saving the oppressed POC working woman. I cannot think of any way to carefully handle that and still stay loyal to the books. But that doesn't mean Sophie has to be an english actress. If the show makes Sophie Irish, the show can still address the same issues about working women in Regency England with added historical accuracy - as we all know the British were beyond horrid d*cks to the Irish for centuries. And that's an understatement.

I’d like to point out that Nicola Coughlan is Irish. And that I do love the implication of the Featheringtons might Irish roots. Hopefully her Irish heritage will get brought up in the show next season. Your question does makes me wonder how well Nicola would have played Sophie if she’d been casted opposite Luke Thompson tho.

Now put on your seatbelt anon you're about to hear a rant.

First of all let's get this out of the way, I am in no way opposed to seeing a black Cinderella on Bridgerton. One of the best Cinderella's in cinematic history was a black woman, which was Brandi in Roger and Hammerstein's. And Brandi's Cinderella is so great, beautiful, flawless in the way she played it that surpassing her has been the challenge of every Cinderella that came after including Lily James.

If someone like Brandi played Sophie, Bridgerton would rise so high, because there's something about a black woman not putting up with oppression any longer and quite literally giving Benedict the dressing down he deserves, that would be so cathartic for me. You wouldn't even notice the white savior trope because she would kick it out of the way with the force of her performance. The way the actress plays the role has a lot of power into how the character is perceived. Take Gugu Mbatha-Raw in any role ever. Most notably in 'Belle'. when she's on screen, the depth she gives to her performance makes white people look like they're not even trying.

If Bridgerton did cast a black actress as Sophie, unless the actress was anything short of spectacular, her performance would be compared to Brandi. Because Brandi set the standard for POC Cinderella scenes.

Now let's leave aside that Benedict is a classist duck to Sophie for a moment. And focus on the fact that Sophie Beckett has arguably the most tragic backstory out of the four Bridgerton wives. Kate, Penelope and Lucy at least had families who gave a thought to their happiness. Sophie didn’t. Her backstory is going to hurt regardless of who plays the role, it’s literally written that way.

Which brings us to my rant, if you examine the amount of times the Cinderella trope has been used in a movie or tv and cross reference that with the amount of times a non-white actress played the role, you start to see a disturbing trend. Which is this: when not performed by a white actress, Cinderella is performed by an actress of South American/Latino descent. Most recently Selena Gomez, Sofia Carson and Camilla Cabello. And Dania Ramirez in that season of OUAT I didn’t watch.

As a Latina myself if you think the slavery implication in the white savior trope is bad when Cinderella is played by a black actress then it's just as bad when it's performed by a Latina. People don't talk about it that much because Latina skin can pass for white under a certain tan booth light. But make no mistake, the implication is there.

Hot take: Actresses with South American/Latino heritage, aren't all born to play the role of maids or any other type of oppressed citizens. Despite what Jlo made Hollywood think in Maid in Manhattan. In fact neither are black women. Bridgerton at least got that right when they cast a POC as Queen Charlotte.

If you cross reference the amount of times Cinderella has been played by a black woman in movie/tv and you get 1, which is Brandi, the Cinderella who set the bar really high. 2 if you decide to count Rags where Keke Palmer plays the prince (which I don’t count) but it’s worth mentioning.

Rant ended back to Sophie and Benedict.

Now, with the exception of the casting of Daphne, ( which I think could have gone better, because Phoebe’s performance was lackluster compared to costars like Nicola Coughlan, Ruby Barker and Sabrina Bartlett) Bridgerton casting has always been really successful. I personally love who they picked as Kate and Edwina. From what I can see in the recent clips, Simone Ashley can give a lot of depth and nuance to Kate.

I hope that they do the same for the casting of Sophie and bring in an actress who can portray Sophie as someone who refuses to be the victim and has never lost hope. Which is the beauty of Sophie’s character. Personally I’ve never seen an Asian Cinderella in western tv, if they cast an actress with Asian, Pacific or Caribbean heritage, they would actually BE breaking ground and doing something that hasn’t been done before. Even another Desi actress would do well in that role.

I’m the first to raise my hand in favor of more Asian representation in Bridgerton because we didn’t get any in S1 and for a show that’s supposedly so diverse that kinda bummed me out. And it would also have less racist connotations because at that historical point in time, the British (in my limited understanding) had a less oppressive relationship with Asians. At least compared to other cultures that they were actively suppressing, enslaving or destroying.

I still trust that Sophie’s actress will be spectacular, and hopefully she might make me feel something beyond boredom towards Benedict and redeem him in my eyes. Because out of all the Bridgertons I care about his manpain the least in An Offer From A Gentleman. And I still cared about his manpain the least in Bridgerton S1 (regardless of how well Luke Thompson played the character.).

Ps: pardon if I used racial terms that offended anyone here. In my culture calling a person Black, White or Latina, isn’t seen as an insult. So if any of you got offended, it was completely unintentional.

#sophie beckett #benedict bridgerton #An Offer From A Gentleman #bridgerton diversity!#but done right #this needs to be said

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thevalleyisjolly · 4 years ago

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Ok, I’ve rewritten this post several times because I really want this to be a productive and respectful discussion, but this is a conversation that does need to be started. I’ve been thinking about the whole cultural appropriation story line in this season of The Unsleeping City so far, and of course I think it’s great that Cody is starting to realize why that’s wrong and that Murph is making it explicitly clear that it is wrong, but I want to reorient the conversation away from Cody now and talk about Ricky as a Japanese-American character.

Because when Zac went “Just to paint a picture for you...” during the museum fight episode, there was quite a bit of surprise from non-Asian people in the fandom that this was really a serious issue, and one that Ricky would be bothered by or speak up about. But why wouldn’t he? I mean, the character is Japanese-American, and so is the player. Doesn’t it make perfect sense that he would at least be a little bothered by a white person appropriating Japanese culture? Asian fans certainly noticed and pointed it out before that episode aired. Ricky/Zac certainly noticed - go back through the episodes and observe how every time Cody pulled out a kunai or threw a shuriken, Ricky was cringing or facepalming with an uncomfortable laugh. Even with seven different camera perspectives to watch at the same time, it should have been pretty clear in the fandom that this was an ongoing issue that would bother and was bothering Ricky.

And I think there are several different facets to this, but the one I want to address is how there’s a tendency in fandom to ignore or erase Ricky’s Japanese heritage. Not literally (although there is a particular sting every time I see another Ricky fancast where the actor is of another Asian heritage than Japanese - Asian people are not interchangeable). But especially prior to Season 2, there was a general trend in the fandom that liked to simplify Ricky’s character and overlook him as a complex player character because of traits that are very common in East Asian immigrant cultures.

Perhaps it’s because my heritage is East Asian and I’ve had more exposure to general cultural customs and behaviours among East Asian immigrants, but Zac’s portrayal of Ricky has always read as a very obvious Asian-American child of immigrants to me (and, y’know, Zac and Ricky are actually Asian-American children of immigrants). Not expressing negative emotions out loud, not verbally articulating thoughts and feelings but expressing them through actions, deferring to other peoples’ needs first instead of expressing his own wants because it’s not about him. With the caveat that I’m Chinese and not Japanese, these are common practices that I’ve observed in my own family, among friends and acquaintances (of various Asian heritages including but not limited to Chinese), in broader experiences with other East Asian immigrants.

(Asia is not a monolith and I’m not familiar with the immigrant cultures and experiences of people from other Asian heritages. I specify East Asian here because that is broadly what I can speak on and because Ricky is Japanese, but other Asian people please feel free to discuss your experiences as well)

And obviously, these are not monolith traits observed at all times, I’ve definitely met plenty of East Asian immigrants who did express their emotions loudly, who used their words, who were assertive about their own needs and wants (this is not the post to be getting into different generations of immigration and the culture differences between those generations). And it also depends on the context - from my own experience, in private within families, both emotions and words can get extremely loud (if you dare to risk the wrath of your elders by arguing with them!) But my point is that the habits I pointed out above are still relatively common in East Asian immigrant cultures, even if not all individuals follow them at all times.

Particularly prior to Season 2, there was a common perspective in the fandom, usually couched in “uwu, I love that Zac is playing a hot dummy!!” that would go along the lines of “Ricky doesn’t have a character arc, he doesn’t get into conflicts with other people, he doesn’t say anything and is just happy to be there, he’s a shallow character who’s just a himbo.” All of which I’d dispute, (*insert post here about Ricky as a character reclaiming Asian masculinity*), but I want to focus on how the main traits -refraining from overt emotions, remaining reserved in speech, not bringing up his own needs and wants- that were brought up and used to simplify and dismiss Ricky’s character were traits which are commonly found in East Asian immigrant communities. The whole “remaining reserved/trying to avoid conflict” is something a lot of East Asian-American kids pick up at home because what you say or don’t say isn’t as important as what you do or don’t do.

And I mean, so much of Ricky is about doing things for people, showing his feelings through his actions, not his words. Just because he wasn’t getting into PC conflict in Season 1, or expressing his emotions in the same ways as other PCs, doesn’t mean he was just a silent, cheerful himbo. Which there’s nothing wrong with being a himbo, and it can be particularly empowering in Ricky’s case as an Asian man (see above linked post about Asian masculinity), but that’s not all there is to Ricky’s character! And don’t get me wrong, I personally love that part of his ongoing character arc in Season 2 is speaking up about his feelings and expressing to other people what he wants (because there’s the “American” part of the Asian-American experience that’s not just about having Asian heritage but is also about negotiating that relationship in a place with different norms and customs). But it doesn’t negate the “Asian” part of “Asian-American” either, which does impact and shape the way Ricky interacts with people and the world.

In hindsight, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that interest and meta in Ricky skyrocketed once he did start being more vocal and assertive in Season 2, which are common traits in many Western cultures. And it’s not the only reason that there’s a deeper interest in Ricky now (shout out to all the Asian fans and allies who’ve been really diving into Ricky’s character this season!) and I choose to believe in good faith that it isn’t intentional or malicious (audiences do tend to gravitate more towards tangible moments of conversation and conflict rather than background acting). But I think we as fans need to start questioning why as a whole, we really didn’t start giving deeper thought to Ricky until he began displaying more typically Western traits, because I think it’s emblematic of how, very subtly and unconsciously, we are used to privileging white “American” behaviour and ignoring or glossing over Asian (immigrant) traits.

In many ways, Ricky prior to Season 2 (and very arguably up until the museum fight), has been perceived in the general fandom as a sort of post-racial American-melting-pot character. Fans don’t wholly ignore that he’s Japanese-American, you can’t really do that when his family name is “Matsui” and when the Season 1 finale showed that his interactions with the American Dream pretty strongly involved his parents’ immigrant experience. But knowing intellectually that Ricky is Asian doesn’t always translate to actually perceiving him as an Asian person with all the implications and racial dynamics that entails.

An example of how this manifests: Ricky and Esther become a canon couple. Numerous posts begin to appear (and periodically still do) that express opinions along the lines of Ricky/Esther being the only tolerable “het” couple. Ignoring the fact that we don’t know Esther’s sexuality and we only have an offhand Ztream comment for Ricky, Ricky/Esther is a canonical interracial relationship between two non-white people, a Japanese man and a black woman. Interracial relationships are already extremely poorly represented in media, to say nothing of interracial relationships between non-white people. Yet we overlook the racial dynamics and only focus on the perceived queerness (or not) of the ship.

Or, for another example, taking the discussion on cultural appropriation and making it all about Cody’s flaws and character development, rather than considering how it affects Ricky as a Japanese man to see a white man disrespecting a part of his cultural heritage.

Anyways, I really urge D20 fans, especially if you’re not Asian, to start questioning and challenging how you really perceive characters, what kind of characteristics you tend to privilege and be drawn to and why, and what kind of fandom environment you shape in your interactions with the show and with other fans. This is not to say that Ricky should be everyone’s favourite character or that you can’t dislike him, but it is important to think about why we have the preferences that we do. I especially urge you to remember that Ricky Matsui is a Japanese-American character, that this was a deliberate choice which has been repeatedly brought up by Zac (who is a Japanese-American actor), and that you cannot and should not ignore Ricky’s heritage when you think and talk about him.

(And if you think Ricky is being an “asshole” to Cody just for being, frankly, mildly perturbed in his direction because Cody spent most of the season so far being very offensive to Ricky’s cultural heritage, I really encourage you to think critically about your opinions and why you hold them. And if, after thinking critically, you still don’t see why they’re wrong, please don’t let the door hit you on the way out. Your conscious racism is not something that is welcome in this fandom, and Asian fans are not here to teach you better)

((White and non-Asian people can and should reblog this, but don’t clown around. Productive, respectful discussion is welcome. Asian fans are more than welcome to add their perspectives/agree/disagree, especially people with Japanese heritage))

#dimension 20 #the unsleeping city #d20 spoilers #tuc ii spoilers #ricky matsui #diversity in fan spaces #asian rep #white people can and should reblog this but don't clown around #non-asian people can and should reblog this but also don't clown around #productive discussion is absolutely welcome but please be respectful #asian fans are more than welcome to add their perspectives/agree/disagree; especially fans with japanese heritage #i really love tuc but being an asian fan in the fandom is just like *avoids twitter* *avoids discord* *curated list of blogs to follow*

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berniecranes · 3 years ago

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There are many different reasons to talk about Lincoln as a character, in particular when it comes to how violent he is. While there is a major talk there, around the games' own bias and prejudices when it comes to how they view Lincoln as a whole. Maguire, really tries to paint him as some monster, saying he did more damage to this state than any war or hurricane can do.

And uhhhhhh that boils my blood. The game won't say it, but it's so obvious the reason why these are the views, is because the lead is a black man. They made him the most violent from the other two, they chose to do that. Yes. It plays into his revenge story but still. That was a choice they made. And is still what people will do when trying to hold the two other Mafioso protags higher than him.

But also when it comes to his killings..... WHO is Lincoln killing? The fucking Mafia. People will act like he's slaughter women in children in the streets when he ISN'T. That is SUCH a different dynamic. And should change the whole view point of Lincoln. Yes killing is wrong regardless, but it's not like these are normal folks. They too are criminals apart of this life, organized crime. The underground world that is threatening the lives of normal folk.

Also the game doesn't focus enough on how most of these characters are violent racists. Like yes it's obvious because they're working for the Marcanos, D*xie Mafia, S*uthern Union, but like that applies to nearly all their random men too. And it's not like they hide that. It's very clear by what the random men say.

I just think it's interesting when Lincoln's whole underlying plot is morals and what that entails. When Lincoln's whole journey is a revenge piece getting back at the Mafia for what they did to his family. It quite literally just so happened y'know he's an ex war vet, that worked under the C*A in his time there and had a friend being willing to help his so meticulously track them down.

Oh and that's the thing. Donovan. Yes people will say Donovan is in the wrong but not enough. Just like how the documentary says his name once?

When Donovan represents Lincoln's negative moral alignment. The fact the he continues to encourage Lincoln to continue on with killing them all. Because Donovan is the fucking C*A and understands how to do all of this? He is what kept it running. Getting information, getting contacts set up. Yet because he's not the one who is physically violent he is seen as not as bad? While I understand the reasoning, it doesn't change the fact he is still actively apart of this?

And talking about morals again. Lincoln is the one who is more positively morally aligned. He's not perfect of course but certainly better than Donovan. Lincoln makes effort to not hurt those that don't need to be, he tries to not hurt women unless it's absolutely necessary (hell, the game doesn't even let him murder a racist white woman). Whereas Donovan here, is okay with what is happening, and has one comment where he is racist towards Asian folks and says rather misogynistic things in that part as well. Yet, that isn't talked about nearly enough. What Donovan said was wrong, it's not okay. Yet you don't see people talking about how fucked up that was?

Sorry jumping to another point again, the game too makes sure to point out both of their desentization to things was majorly pushed due to their time in war. Making commentary about just doing the same things they did over in war, and doing it here when it comes to taking down the Marcanos. Like that is pointing out one of the reasons they can act in a way they do. Yet that gets brushed over? Like no! The game is pointing up how fucked and gruesome the war is and how much it changes people. Like this is also a big factor in how they act. (Also since I mentioned it, I just want to be clear. I am anti war and anti military. I'm not saying I agree with them being apart of it, just pointing what it does mean to them as characters)

Okay this is way too long but TL;DR. Lincoln is a great character and it's people's own bias that continue to frame him like some monster.

#just max ramblin'#racisim #please let me know to tag anything else and i will do that #just ugh its so annoying seeing the way people talk abt Lincoln #long post #mafia (game) —#m3 etc

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silverrstarrr · 4 years ago

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Normal girl (2)

Note: i just edit this chapter a bit and added more dialog. Someone messaged me and helped me out with a few things, thank you!

Chapter 2:

Walking side by side down the stairs, you took a sip of your coffee and place your herd of keys the side of your book bag. yume was scrolling through her phone on tik tok, drinking from her coconut Carmel ice coffee. You didn't understand why she was drinking ice coffee in mid February, it was cold. It was surprising their wasn't any snow.

Grinning like an idiot, she shaked your shoulder, positioning her phone in front of you–you both watched the tik tok. You didn't laugh at first only smiling, yume kept gesturing you to keep watching, waiting for the punchline. Finally it came up and you both started laughing, you slowly shaked your head placing your hand over your mouth.

"NOOO, nooo. That was so wrong, yall are going to hellll" you whined out.

Yume wiped the tears from her face and continued down the last step. She opened up the door and slid out, you trialing behind her. You both proceeded to walk down the street, where all the park cars were out.

"We riding in rich today girlie, jump in," she lifted up her arm that held her drink, her other reached into her purse and grabbed her car keys.

"I thought we were gonna walk there? It's only 10 minutes." You headed towards her car as she unlocked it and sat in the driver's seat. She had a 2018 dark Grey Nissan altima. You remember her having this ever since junior year, you recalled her talking about getting a newer model since this one was old. Like girl what? Old your ass, if the car still functioning there ain't no problem. White people shit, man.

"Well, it's the first day of sweet college life," she dragged out the last few words, adding a sarcastic tone. Yume tossed her bag in the backseat through the open space from the front, She dropped her drink in the little cup holder as well. Catching up with her, you open the backseat's door and chucked your bag in there–immediately closing it after. You pull the passengers door open and sat down, closing it behind you. Yume did the same–letting out a large sigh as she used her long sleeve to rub her legs, which were freezing.

"Bruh, you were just cold. Shouldn't have wore that skirt knowing it was this cold. Your mother would be disappointed," you moved your head side ways, pretending to be disappointed. You dropped your dunkin' drink in the other cup holder next to hers.

"Y/n, shut upp." Rolling her eyes jokingly, She grabbed the buckled next to her seat and puts it on. You placed your seat belt on too. Automatically, her phone connected to the car, you check over at the screen in the middle. It had the time, the degrees outside and all that other fancy things.

"Wanna play something?" she inserted the keys into the ignition and started the car.

"Yeah, I'll type it in,"

You grabbed her phone, showing the screen to her to unlock it, automatically recognizing her face– the lock screen slid up, revealing all her apps. You went to spotify and played "C U Girl" by Steve lacy.

"OKAAYYY, MS. INDIE TIK TOKER." Yume said nodding her, jamming to song. It was only going to be a 5 minute drive, or 7 if you guys couldn't find parking. She swerved to the left, leaving her parking space and pulling off. You whipped out your phone and paused your music, rapidly switching to snapchat–you heard yume's loud singing.

"I WANNA SEE YOU GUURRLL, I WANNA PLEASE YOU GIRL....GO AHEAD AND BE YOUR GIRL," This girl was jamming her out heart out, steve lacy was her favorite along with Brent faiyaz and many others.

In response, you started cackling as you hit the record button—swiftly turning over it to the driver. Her black ponytail moving as she sang and motioning her head in all different directions. Eyeing towards your direction she sees the phone and leans towards the camera flashing a smile, moving her head side to side—still singing through the lyrics. Yume returned back to the road as she lightly taps the steering, avoiding the horn of course.

Once the quick little vid was done, you added a caption,

"I swear if we crash😭😭💕"

Your thumb jolted between posting it on your private or public. You decided to post on the public story because why not? The song was over pretty quickly as the next one played.

"Who knew white people had rhythm?!" It was obviously sarcasm. You knew she was half Asian but it was fun always calling out her white side.

"Naaahh, white people don't have any rhythm. What you saw there was my miki matsubara pop out". She eases down her breaks– the traffic light turns red. Miki Matsubara? Oh yeah, it's that woman who sung "stay with me". It was a good song, you were obsessed with the chorus mostly.

You giggled a bit at her remark, you checked your socials once again.

"If this light doesn-" Yume sentence was cut off by the light turning green. She pressed her foot on the gas and carried on with attending class.

~~~

Pulling up to the parking lot, yume leaned towards her wheel, searching for a place to park. She slowly went down each isle searching for a vacant lot she could snag. You had your drink in between your lips, you took the last sip and shook the plastic cup trying to get a little more. All you heard was ice rattling against one another, dropping the cup back in the holder. You peer out the window looking at the campus, there were a ton of kids, like a lot. Anxiety began spiking up through your veins, this really is the college life, huh? Maria University. It was a school for literally anything, it was one of the biggest universities in the country as well being highly diverse. Yume would be allll the way on the other side of campus while you're slightly in the middle.

"Uggghhh! I regret not leaving earlier, I don't see any open slots." She whined. This was her 2nd time driving around the parking lot looking for a space.

"I said we should walk but nahhh, you wanted to be lazy and take the car." You rolled your eyes as yume, exaggerating, throwing your hands in the air. But you weren't going to be late on the first day. As the generous queen you are, you aided your roomie with looking a space to park. After analyzing for a few moments, you spotted a space and immediately tapped at the window, pointing towards it. Yume car swerved to the left, sliding right into the parking. Taking her keys out the hole, she grabbed her drink and headed out.

"No leaving trash in my car, miss L/n!"

You grabbed your plastic cup and opened the passenger door.

"Yes ma'am," you opened the backseat and grabbed the two bags and closed the door. Beep yume locked her car. She was sipping her coffee but gave a bitter expression when her sweet drink was watered down because of the ice. You looked at your phone, checking the time:

8:38 am

Monday, February 18th

38m ago

Kittykiller27, prettygirlnene liked your photo

45m ago

[Andyhas]: CRONA BECK started following you and 48 others.

Your phone was blowing up from insta notifications. It was time for class and you weren't sure how long it'll even take you to find your classroom. Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you handed yume her own, which she grabbed. You both were speed walking, despite her coffee being ruined she still continued to drink it. It was for the caffeine you guessed. Reaching the sidewalks, it was time to part ways. Yume turned her face towards yours pouting.

"We're leaving each other nooww," she stuck out her bottom lip staring at you. You grabbed her arm, pulling her closer to you. Her arms slithered around your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder–giving you a warm hug. You returned the hug by grunting and holding her tightly.

She started giggling and patted your back a few times, you released your grip and she started to jog in the other direction while looking back, waving at you. You waved back hollering a "BYEEEE!" A trash can was next to you so you dumped your empty dunkin' there.

It was now time for your own adventure, to find this damn classroom. You click the play button on your phone's lock screen, "baby powder by Jenevieve began playing. (Play the song whores👩🏾‍💻)

Walking downwards to the left side of campus, you searched for a pair of doors to go inside of. At this moment, you regretted not going to orientation. That day you were busy setting up your website for your makeup line. You haven't released any products yet, but you had plentiful of ideas and themes you wanted to do. Since it was black history month, maybe you'll drop something as simple as a face cream to help clear and brighten up the skin. But you discarded that thought because you weren't anywhere near ready to start your own small business. Plus, you had bigger things to worry about.

Standing in front of double doors, you grab the handles and pulled it back, you stepped inside while students behind you did the same. You came in slowly, admiring the interior. It was hella spacy with paintings and photos hanging along the walls. Students were roaming the hallways going back and forth from classrooms. Most of the students seemed to be in some sort of costume, or they were dressed fairly well like they were models. You didn't know the directions to your designated class, so you took up the courage to ask someone. You turned to search for someone who didn't seem busy, since most people were rushing to class. Finally you laid eyes on q girl leaning against the wall, typing on her phone. She had long pink acrylic nails, her blonde hair tied into a low ponytail, which complimented her pale skin tone. She had a gold nose piercing on the right nostril.

She seemed nice enough, so you decided to approach her.

"Um excuse me, do you know where Mr. Fargo's class is at?"

The blonde girl averted her eyes from her phone, now focusing on you.

"I'm not really sure—um, I believe it's down that way." She pointed to the right of her.

"Mr. Fargo, he's teaches cosmetic right?"

"Yeah," you replied

"Then I think it should be down there." She scrunched her face in a confusing manner, meaning not to take her word for granted. But you couldn't care less, it was worth a try.

"Ight, thank you." You bid her goodbye. Oop. You accidentally switched your lingo. You were used to speaking in AAVE but you knew how to change your tone and wordplay around others who weren't African American. The girl didn't seen to notice so you just continued down the hall.

"Down... here right..? Yeah this is the way," you murmured to yourself while you strut down the hall. Then turned left as the lady told you. You were now at a hall with multiple doors. Out of all them, you forget the most important, class started in five minutes. You looked to the left as your braids swayed with your movement, then searched to the right. You walked down the hallway, stopping at the fifth door on the left. You were hesitant with grabbing the door, you didn't want to make a fool of yourself walking into the wrong room as all eyes are on you. You pulled out your phone and texted yume.

(I did a different message format just in the previous was confusing)

colonizer but times 2🧑🏻‍🦲

I'm so lost, this is embarrassing.

Lost? What happened

Idk where my class is

& its starting in a few

You don't know where?? Bruh

Ask someone, im sure they'll help you

I did...but she didn't tell me

which class it was😭 all.

she said was "down the hall"

BYEE LMAOO

Uhh

Just open the door you think it is😋

UH- HUH🧏🏾‍♀️ YOU SETTING ME

UP FOR FAILURE.

Imagine going into the wrong class and

all you see are eyes 👁👁

Girl, half of the people won't even see you again on campus👩🏻‍🏫

If you don't recognize the teacher, try to ask a student close to the door for direction

Okay, im blaming you if I make a fool.

outta myself 😟

Read at 8:43 am

(Play quicksand by SZA rq 👩🏾‍💻)

You decided to take your roomie's advice and pick a class, which you already did.

You dropped your phone back into your jacket pocket and swung open the door–you were prepared for the stares. The classroom was vacant, not even a teacher in sight. Just a bunch of stools and white pull down screens. You saw a few cameras standing in front of these screens. "Was this the photography class or sum?" You mumbled to yourself.

And well, eyes were on you but it wasn't a herd as you expected, just one. Sitting on one of the stools in front of the door, was pale skin boy with long brown hair. It rested at his shoulders, some of it covering his face even. He seemed around 6ft, or 6 ft 2? You couldn't really tell since he was sitting.

He had on some black jeans with a black long sleeve sweatshirt as well with a beige greenish short sleeve unbutton shirt rested on top of it– a long golden key necklace dangled from his chest. His hands were sitting between his lap, you noticed sliver rings on them.(his outfit for people who need help visualizing) The teal eyed boy was also rocking black & white air Jordan 1 retro, literally the same as you.

You screamed internally at how fine this man looked and he had shoe gang? Uggghh. Class been started and you were going to be late on your first because this OBVIOUSLY wasn't your class. You decided to break the awkward silence and speak,

"Hey, um, is this Mr. Fargos class?" You stepped more into the classroom for the brunette male to hear you.

"Wrong one, babe. His class is in a totally different building." A different building?! You wanted to die right there and then, especially after hearing him laugh after his statement. Not just the wrong class but the wrong building? Bye–you're so stupid. His eyes scanned your body, his eyes lingered a bit longer at your shoes–it seems he noticed. A smirk appeared on his lips after finishing his quick outfit interrogation–wait, did he just call you-? I-, yes he did. You tried your best to hide your smile and not react.

"O-ooo, I got it. Thanks" Eren released a small chuckled seeing your reaction, he could tell you were caught up with the little pet name.

"I'll walk you over there." He got off his stool and walked towards your direction.

"I-, nah it's good, I got it." You said in defense not wanting to bother him. He didn't respond and just passed by you, exiting the classroom. He held onto the door, looking at you.

"You coming or no?" He was so nonchalant with it everything. You smiled a bit and walked out the class alongside with him. He released his grip once you were out and started trialing behind you.

You paused for a moment because you didn't know where you were going. You turned back to look at him, he caught on and let out an "ah". He quickly got in front of you as you proceeded behind him.

"So," he said.

"What?" You replied. Why did he start a sentence and not finish it? Was he expecting you to start the conversation, weirdo. You just wanted to get to class l.

"Oo, sassy are we?" He raised a brow.

"What—? boy, say what you wanna say."

Once again, he let out a chuckle, flashing you a small. God, was his laugh attractive.

"You're into makeup and stuff?" He questioned.

"Yeah, I'm into 'makeup and stuff' " You said the last few words in the mocking tone, referring to what he called cosmology.

"That's good, at least I'll be seeing you often."

"Often? Oh, are you in that major also?" You said.

"No...Do you really not know anything?" He made you feel dumb by his response. How were you suppose to know what he meant? You clicked your teeth and started walking ahead. You pushed back the door that lead to another hallway and walked towards the end to push the second door that lead to another building.

The brunette boy watched as you left him behind in the dirt, waiting for the moment you'll turn the wrong corner—so he could tease you about it then correct you.

It wasn't too long till you reached your destination, you both stopped in front of the class's door.

"Well, see you. I hope you don't make snarky remarks to every girl you meet."

"Nah, only you princess." He had a smirk on his face, ooo! You wanted to wipe it off.

You glanced at him and his eyes were already on you, you broke eye contact and reached for the handle.

"Wait–" you whipped your heard back.

"Yeah?"

He cleared his throat

"Name's Eren," you let out a small giggle, did he really just stop you to say his name? Puhleasee. Hearing your laugh, his face brightened up and kept his eyes on you.

"Okay, Eren~. Thank you for walking me, I gotten get to class now."

You opened the door and stepped inside. Eren didn't even get a chance to ask your name. Luckily for him, your major mingled a lot with his own, he could only hope to see you again around campus.

‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

Authors note: UGHHH, I STAYED UP ALL NIGHT FOR THIS just to pass out a few hours before school started. 🥲 I wasn't even paying attention in English and math class, but hope yall enjoyed <3.

Pt 3

#x reader #attack on titan #eren headcanons #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager #anime #eren yeager x y/n #eren x black reader #eren yeager x you #aot x black reader #eren jeager #eren jaeger x reader #connie springer #aot season 4 #eren smut #fanfic #anime fanfic

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et-lesailes · 3 years ago

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This is a whole ass essay but yeah I seriously do not get all the fuss about Lizzo and Chris and the attack on fic writers like quit y'all need to quit pulling the racist and fatphobic card because it literally has nothing to do with weight and color, we won't be having this argument if this were a male celebrity doing it to a female celebrity it's as simple as that I don't know what y'all are not getting. You can argue that he's playing along all you want but I too, would force myself to when I am placed in such awkward and pressuring position where people expect a specific desirable response from him where people would probably call him a buzzkill, rude or snob if he doesn't attend to people's expectations, take into consideration that the man had openly talked about his anxiety numerous times.

Moreover, even if he chooses to ignore her, people would relentlessly pester him to acknowledge her until he does, she posts their DMs for fuck's sake. I never get why people feel the need to share their DMs and text messages with the public, people send messages to you directly for a reason. Y'all said it yourselves, the amount of people thirsting over him is crazy enough as it is, that's exhausting and frustrating as hell so I'm pretty sure the last thing he needs is a highly influential woman openly thirsting over him and broadcasting to her over dozen million followers how she wants to have his baby and practically encouraging people to join in and enable her to overindulge on her thirst. Even the majority of thirsty teenage fangirls knows better than to act all feral and thirsty when they meet famous people they have the hots for or when having a direct interaction with them, some of them would have a hard time trying to collect myself to speak , but they would still try to have a decent and human conversation and say normal and thoughtful shit like 'how are you' and 'have a great day' and treat them like actual humans instead of talking about babies.

Mind you, they aren't even really close and I'd like to assume that their first interaction was when she drunk texted him and went ahead to post the screenshot of it; personally, if I were the one given the chance to interact with someone I admire, I would actually try to properly express my admiration and initiate a normal friendly conversation instead of subjecting them to the same type of treatment they get from thirsty fans who sexualizes them 24/7.

Now don't get me wrong, I like her but I'm not about to ignore the fact that this is unacceptable behavior if you don't think see this as predatory/sexualizing/disrespectful then so be it, but don't defend it. The same principle applies when you're not supposed to use the 'N word' just because you have one black friend who's not bothered by it or how you're not supposed to enable cultural appropriators just because you're Asian/Native American/etc+ and was "not offended by it". Don't tolerate. The fact that "he plays along" is never a reason, he never may have stated he is uncomfortable by it but he also never said he's okay with it but keep in mind that we never even saw him initiate nor seen any interaction that did not involve her sexualizing him.

go OFF anon!!!! i agree with literally all of this. it's disappointing to see someone of such huge talent and status and who is supposedly a feminist act like this. thanks for this essay and sharing your thoughts 💙

#anonymous #answered

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crowensbaby · 3 years ago

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CHAPTER 2

“Mom, we're not staying at the hotel, are we? I do not like them!" although they had woken up at a very unusual time that morning, Vanessa had not slept for the whole flight and now that they were about to land, it seemed that not even the jet-lag had calmed her "No Nessa. We will stay at Aunt Mer's house. So you can play with Zola, Bailey and Ellis as much as you like. "" Are they coming to the hospital kindergarten too? " “Zola no more. She is grown up now and she has to go to school. Now stand still and I fasten your seat belt ".

Within minutes, mother and daughter were running into Meredith who was waiting for them with someone else beside her. The little girl immediately let go of Cristina's hand and ran to meet the two people “Aunt Mer! Aunt Lexie! " she hugged both of them tightly smiling "Honey we missed you!" the cardiothoracic surgeon made her appearance at that moment "Apparently you stole my daughter" she joked, as she hugged her person and her best interne, who was now a close friend almost on the level of her sister "Don't get me wrong but that's enough for me my children. Then she is literally a mini version of you embodied in a female version of Owen! " "I would gladly steal she but I think Mark is enough Sofia and the baby on the way" continued the game Lexie, putting a hand on her baby bump of six months of pregnancy "Mom who is Owen?" Vanessa had been silent listening to them until, she had not realized that she did not know the man who had mentioned Aunt Meredith. Cristina blanched but she still tried not to be noticed by her daughter, and Lexie opted to change the subject “What do you think darling if we all go home now? You will be tired. You rest for a while and afterwards, when Zola, Bailey, Ellis and Sofia get back from school, you play everything together, will you? " the little girl smiled in agreement, momentarily forgetting the initial topic of the conversation.

After returning to the Shepherd-Grey's dream house, the two Yangs settled in the room that had always been destined for the Asian and slept for several hours. Jet lag was devastating for anyone!

They woke up just before dinner because four hurricane children had thrown themselves onto their bed as soon as Meredith told them they had arrived “AUNT CRISTINA! VANESSA! HOW BEAUTIFUL TO SEE YOU! " both laughed as they were embraced with all the strength they possessed. "We too missed you little beasts" said Cristina "Ness, we have to tell you so many things! Come to the hospital tomorrow, right aunt? We need to introduce you to lots of new people! " when she spoke with this enthusiasm, Sofia resembled Arizona much more than she aesthetically resembled Callie. “I think so… indeed certainly. I promise I'll bring she to you soon after, however, first let's go and see Alex and Jo "while they were talking, the whole little company ended up in the living room where the hosts, Lexie, Mark, Callie and Arizona were sitting on the sofa" CRISTINA! O MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE ?! " the orthopedist did not immediately notice the little girl that her friend had in her arms until she had almost hugged her "Awww! And who is this beautiful teddy bear? " Arizona said, approaching and stroking her redhead hair. “This is Vanessa, my daughter. Say hello honey ”“ Hello. Are you mum's friends? " the two brides looked at the curly hair with disbelief “Moms, she is Zola's cousin I told you about. Can we give you a tour of the hospital tomorrow? " "Of course sweetie. There are no problems for us. Go ask Dad and Aunt Meredith now. ”The whole time they hadn't stopped looking at the - apparently - mother of that little girl who looked so much like Owen Hunt. Cristina felt very uncomfortable unfortunately, she knew that sooner or later she would have to talk about it so, with a look she made it clear to the two to wait until after dinner.

But apparently "after dinner" she wasn't just going to talk to Callie and Arizona because Miss Alexandra Caroline Gray had decided that throwing a little party with people from the hospital for Cristina Yang's return would be a great idea! Fortunately, some had not been able to come because they had emergencies. Present were Bailey with Ben and Tuck, Jackson and Harriet, Maggie Pierce - Meredith's other sister -, Teddy Altman and a very pregnant Amelia Shepherd!

A strange sensation formed in the pit of the Asian's stomach when she saw her, thinking that Owen hadn't taken so long to replace her with someone else who wanted to give him children without thinking twice "It's not his. As I predicted they didn't last. ”Altman had stopped behind her and now she was also reading her thoughts“ Teddy! Oh my God, look at you! Is this a time of year when everyone is pregnant? " “It may be but, the next is Amelia. She could give birth at any moment and, if it happened tonight, I would not want to be in the father of the child who, as I told you, is not Owen "" Oh, you weren't kidding? Weren't they married? As far as I know, they were "" You said well, they were. A lot of things happened and they got divorced. About a year ago a new God of orthopedics arrived - actually two but the other is not important now - and… well now Amelia is with him who, of course, is the father of the child "the owner of the KlausMann Institute felt. immediately as one of those burdens she carried on her shoulders, he took off, reassuring her at least on one aspect of her life.

In the end, the dinner was not as bad as she had expected, quite the opposite! She had talked a lot with Teddy who, had also introduced her to Maggie Pierce. Apparently the girl is a genius since she graduated in medicine at 18! Apparently her intelligence belongs to the family.

She then had joked with Jackson and April - arrived just before the start of dinner - and had discovered the little girl with whom the man had arrived belonged to both of them. Not that she was surprised, those two were absolutely made for each other.

But the important part of the evening came at that moment: after Shepherd and Pierce had left, all the others had made themselves comfortable waiting for Cristina to clarify some things while, all the children were playing in the other room " You are doctors! You all know how to create a child! " began the Asian, trying a little to dampen the tension "This is not the point Yang! How could you hide such a thing from him ?! " Miranda Bailey and her scolding “I never wanted to do that! When I realized that I could have been pregnant I was shocked but I immediately took the test. It came out negative and, before you ask, I also did the blood test. That too was negative. So when I realized I was actually pregnant, I was in my fifth month. When Vanessa was born the first thing I thought was that I had to tell Owen but then, they told me he was married and I ... I was afraid of ruining his life "Meredith, next to the cardiothoracic surgeon, shook her hand, in 'exact moment when all the children entered screaming in the living room "Are you bad, Mom?" her little girl is too bright “No darling. Did you have to tell me something? " "Did you know that Harriet also comes to the daycare?" "Yes, I know. Her parents work in that hospital. They’re that woman with red hair and the black man with green eyes. But you have to promise me not to run away from daycare, okay? " “Okay mom. I promise you ”“ Good darling ”and the two Yang embraced.

Tonight, when the whole Shepherd-Gray house was in complete silence, Cristina thought only that tomorrow would be the hardest day she had ever experienced.

#greys anatomy #crowen #calzona #slexie #merder #writing #books

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wavebiders · 4 years ago

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F(h)atewatch Part 2:

How Is Not One of These Girls Likable?

The only thing I will give this show points for is glowy eyes when magic. The cartoon should have had more of that

Oh hey, starting with a sleeping Bloom. Should have done that in the pilot tho. Now that would have been a nice nod to the og

Plus this is only driving home how freaking boring this Bloom is. Where is my girl freaking out trying to get dressed as fast as possible?

Ok but seriously why is the only bit of backstory for Aisha we do have that she was on the swim team, when that just goes against the most vital point of Aisha's story in the cartoon? Are they actively trying to butcher these girls?

Wait, if Stella couldn't afford to lose that ring why did she give it to Bloom? This isn't even about her potentially losing it. She meant for Bloom to just not come back. How exactly was she planning on collecting it before?

Also this is still a bad plot! I know it all sucks but that moment where Bloom gives up that ring to save Stella's life is one of my favorites in the cartoon

It just sucks that instead of a storyline that shows how much they've come to care for each other, they're just using the ring for more catiness between them

If they had to center Terra's storyline around her insecurities couldn't they have at least found a way to do it without making it seem like she's never dressed herself before?

Man, fuck this knock-off Avatar stuff. Where's my cool hair color changing classes?

You know Bloom feeling betrayed by not-Faragonda would hit a lot harder if they had had more scenes together and it was established that she was someone Bloom trusted deeply

...I will never complain about the specialist scenes in the cartoon being boring ever again

Jesus, I knew I was gonna hate Stella. I knew I wasn't gonna vibe with white Musa and Flora. But for all I knew I would not care for this Bloom, I was not expecting to hate her this much

he is so fucking rude to and about everyone. It's a little hard to feel for her being an outcast when she clearly doesn't like anybody anyway. I miss the girl who was so happy to finally have friends she made them a group logo after one (1) hang-out

At this point I have to believe they're trying to make these people as unlikable as possible

Stella and Bloom are still sorta gay? The wrong kind. I don't care for the whole "she's mean to her bc she secretly likes her" trope even with good writing, and this ain't that. But it's good to know their gay energy is strong enough to transer even to the shittiest most ooc adaptation imaginable

Plus this show is 200% gonna pretend they're friends next season, so it's good the actresses have some amount of chemistry to make thsir scenes enjoyable without context if nothing else

This scene is still awful tho. Literally just let girls support each other jesus christ it's not that hard. Also Stella would be all about otters holding hands. Stella and Bloom basically are a couple of otters holding hands smh

White Musa has a point. Why is Aisha so commited to being friends with asshole Bloom?

I've never seen a piece of "lgbt rep" so obviously written by queerphobic people

The concept of white Musa and Sam(who the FUCK is Sam)'s dynamic is actually kinda interesting. Too bad every scene with this girl pisses me off on principle

I can see now why even my mother picked up on how bad the black best friend trope in this show is, when she normally doesn't notice that stuff as much as I do(not that she doesn't care, she's very vocal about it for a middle aged mostly white woman. But with online fandom I just have more oppurtunities to learn). Like this is just excessive

Actually since I mentioned my mom. She's as Asian as I've heard people say Elisha is and she straight up laughed at the implication that that would somehow qualify her to play a character like Musa. So that sums up how I feel about that defense

Is that a voice calling Bloom? No fucking way did they keep Daphne. She's one of best, most emotional parts of the cartoon. She's so vital to Bloom's story. There's no way they wouldn't get rid of her

"Thank you" Come on asshole Bloom say it with me. This girl just saved your life, you can handle a simple "thank you"

Good to see this version of Sky is also the type to get emotionally invested in a new girl while still dating someone else. I mean don't get me wrong I despise mean girl Stella, but he is being a fucking tool about this

I mean he wasn't flirting with Bloom in front of Stella earlier but that shit was not innocent. And you can't have a guy seeing his distressed girlfriend, ask about her dormmate that he likes before asking how she is, and expect me to see him as a good guy

And of course that's exactly what they're going to do. Sky is the swell guy caught dating the bitch, but is secretely in love with the girl next door(who is also a jerk but whatever)

Lane markings do tell you what to do tho? Isn't that kinda the point?

Ooooh scary blank eyes Im shaking in my boots

#fate hatewatch #winx club #fate: the winx saga #netwinx critical #i know i like a lot of bad stuff but seriously how does this show have fans?

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princess-of-the-worlds · 4 years ago

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Torchwood and the (Mis)treatment of its Characters of Color

Let’s be honest; despite its decent track record with queer characters, Torchwood has a problem with how it treats its characters of colors, and I say this as a South Asian, bisexual fan of the show.

For the purposes of this post, I will only be looking at the Torchwood television series (so spoilers for Seasons 1 and 2, Children of Earth, and Miracle Day), and not as Big Finish Torchwood releases since I do not believe myself to be well-versed enough in them to be able to make an accurate post. And also, as much as I love Big Finish for eveything they’re doing, on-screen POC representation is very different from audio POC representation. (And for the purposes of this post, I will not be addressing the mistreatment of Martha Jones, which really, if you think about it, stems from Doctor Who and not Torchwood.)

TLDR; Torchwood has neglected or mistreated its characters of color, given them little or no background, and brutally killed them off, often for shock value.

Let’s start with Suzie Costello.

Suzie Costello, played by Indira Varma who is a British actress of Indian descent, was promoted alongside the regular cast members in publicity material before “Everything Changes” aired, giving the impression that she would be sticking around for a while or would be a main character. Instead, she was unceremoniously killed off at the end of the first episode and only pops up once more in “They Keep Killing Suzie.” At no point was Suzie acknowledged as a woman of color or given much more background beyond her tumultuous, most likely abusive, relationship with her father.

Next, we get to Toshiko Sato, left as the only person of color on the team after Suzie’s death.

Wonderful, gorgeous, caring Tosh who, for all intents and purposes, is essentially a walking stereotype. She’s an Asian (Japanese specifically) technology genius who is unlucky at love. Need I say more? (Check out this Teen Vogue article if you’re wondering why that’s a bad thing, or, honestly, just quickly search Google.) And all three of the Tosh-heavy episodes (”Greeks Bearing Gifts,” “To the Last Man,” and “Adam”) feature her being unlucky in love (Mary betraying her, Tommy dying, and Adam manipulating her). Plus, there’s everything with Owen where she pines after him for years only for him to finally recognize that before he dies, and then he, well, dies; that plot arc only ends in death and sadness.

Additionally, we only have limited background for Tosh in comparison to Jack and Gwen (who I guess you could kind of say are the main characters) but even in comparison to Ianto (for whom more background was revealed only because he became a more prominent character in COE.) We know she was born in London, moved to Japan as a child, and at some point moved back before growing up in the United Kingdom. She had a younger brother (mentioned in a deleted scene in “Captain Jack Harkness”) and a grandfather who worked at Bletchley Park (mentioned in “Greeks Bearing Gifts” and “Captain Jack Harkness.”) She also very much loved her family, or at least her mother, enough to commit treason for her, despite her mother only being seen in “End of Days” and “Fragments.” But that’s about it.

There was so much more Torchwood could have done with Tosh. We could have seen more about her family or her education. We certainly could have seen more about her bisexuality; everything that happened with Mary was not a satisfying resolution. Instead, she was killed off alongside Owen in “Exit Wounds.” Torchwood used the death of a woman of color for shock value, and no matter how effective or emotional that was, it was not excusable. There was so much story left to be told with Toshiko Sato.

Tosh’s death brought the racial diversity in Torchwood down to zilch.

Next, we have Lisa Hallett.

Now, Lisa Hallett...what do we actually know about her? She worked at Torchwood One, dated Ianto Jones, and loved him enough to maybe fight cyberprogramming for him - this part might be subjective to your own interpretation of “Cyberwoman.” We don’t know anything about her, really, apart from how she is defined and described for a white male main character, which...is problematic enough. I mean, would it have been too much to ask the writers for maybe some further description? I mean, I don’t know. Maybe where exactly she worked in Torchwood London? How she joined? How she met Ianto? If she had any family, any other friends? Why she loved Torchwood and worked there? Heck, a flashback scene featuring a non-cyberized Lisa and Ianto would have been brilliant. Is that too much to have asked of the Torchwood writers? I don’t know.

Then there’s the entire fact that Lisa was turned into a Cyberwoman. Now, I have many problems with how Doctor Who and Torchwood uses its Cybermen, especially regarding its continuous brutalization of black and brown bodies for emotional and shock value (Lisa, Danny Pink, and Bill Potts are only some examples.) It sends a very, very nasty message to these shows’ viewers of color, especially if they’re younger and more impressionable. Plus, the depiction of Lisa in “Cyberwoman” was uncomfortable and unnecessarily sexualized, but this is a whole different essay. But in the end, Lisa Hallett was pumped with bullets many, many times, and her death only added to the emotional pain of a white man.

Now, we come to more minor characters.

Beth Halloran was a human who did not know her true identity as an alien sleeper agent. She had a very interesting and action-packed story arc in “Sleeper” before ending up dead at the hands of Torchwood. She had an emotional struggle between her human identity and her truth as an alien sleeper and chose to help save the world, intentionally ending up dead at the hands of Torchwood. That being said, she was still another character of color who Torchwood had bothered fleshing out who ended up dead.

Next, there’s Dr. Rupesh Patanjali.

Introduced in COE, he’s a medical doctor who catches Jack and Ianto working on a case and ends up piquing their interest after he makes some shit up. Spoiler alert: he’s an MI-5 plant. We see Gwen attempt to conduct orientation and recruitment with him. He has a fun setup to be a potential new Torchwood member and inside spy, but instead, he lures Jack to the hospital where Jack’s implanted with a bomb. And despite doing his job as requested and doing it rather well, Rupesh Patanjali is shot dead by Agent Johnson that very episode, just like Beth.

Then we have Lois Habiba, arguably the most interesting and fun character introduced in COE.

She’s a naive newcomer, almost like Gwen, but during her first week working in the Home Office, she finds herself committing treason, conspiring against her boss Frobisher, and helping save the world from an alien invasion. She’s smart, resourceful, and principled, very much like Ianto. Like with a lot of the characters on this list, we know next-to-nothing about her background, which is odd considering her rather major role in COE. And despite being seemingly set up to become a member of Torchwood, we never see her again.

Finally, we come to Miracle Day and its two new characters of color, Rex Matheson and Dr. Vera Juarez. I won’t be getting into too much detail here, especially since MD has its own problems.

Ah, Rex.

Torchwood finally has a man of color for a main character who seems like he could be an interesting foil to Jack (a high-ranking CIA agent with a high bullshit meter), and what do they do...they kill him in his first scene. Oh, and they make him “lightly” homophobic, because that’s always fun. And then he ends up immortal in some kind of bullshit plot hole...I have enough to say there.

Vera, however, was quite interesting. Again, little to no background besides the basic (from San Antonio, had an ex-husband, is a surgeon), but she was still a Latina medical doctor. She had morals and was very stubborn and determined to save people, which is why she insisted into helping Torchwood sneak into the overflow camp. And what did she get for that? She ended up brutually shot in front of her lover Rex, which traumatized them both, and then literally burnt alive. Thrown on top of that? In a quite meta move really, the death of another woman of color was used to incite outrage around the country, and the world, and expose the wrongdoings of the United States government regarding the Miracle. Good stuff? Either way, it came at the cost of the death of one strong woman of color and the further trauma of another man of color.

Plus, there’s everything about how unnecessarily violent and graphic some of the deaths of these characters of color. To put it into perspective, think about how Owen or Ianto or Esther died. (I’m not trying to reduce the values of their deaths; I’m just trying to get you to think about it.)

So yeah, that’s all I have to say about that. Torchwood, you could have done better with your characters of color. (And thank you if you stuck all this way with me.)

TLDR; Torchwood has neglected or mistreated its characters of color, given them little or no background, and brutally killed them off, often for shock value.

#torchwood #characters of color #torchwood meta #suzie costello #toshiko sato #lisa hallett #beth halloran #rupesh patanjali #rex matheson #vera juarez #children of earth #miracle day #nik wrote a literal essay

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bangtanlalaland · 5 years ago

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around the way girl | knj (m.)

synopsis ↳namjoon kim was the man you’d fallen in love with in college, while existing in a society where ambw relationships are rare.

→part of the bring it back collection!

— 1990’s!au; strangers to lovers!au

→pairing: underground rapper!kim namjoon x beauty supply store worker!black female reader

→genre: fluff, smut

→word count: 4.7k+

→contents ⨯ warnings: that beautiful, interracial love (AMBW) [if you’re racist, fuck off my page!] some major fluff action here, joon is so soft, (I stg he’s a dom but also a hopeless romantic. the DUALITY. agsgsjlldlejd), rapper joon makes an appearance, sweet love making, name calling (cute shit, I promise), also the use of DADDY, lots of kissing and caressing, body worshiping, oral (f receiving), protected sex (no glove, no love baby), fingering, over-stimulation, namjoon is so inspired by hip hop culture, y’all I tried really hard to sprinkle some 90′s vibes in there so bare with me ok,

a/n: heyyyy loves! I wanted to do something different, considering that I hardly come across any fics (specifically BTS) with a woc or simply a black reader. so here’s one to all of my beautiful, black queens out there! much love to you all & I want you to know I am here & stand with you.

song rec: “around the way girl” by ll cool j

☞ disclaimer: If any of the warnings listed above offends you in any way, please do not read. It is not my intention to start any sort of debate/argument in regards to racism, culture appropriation, etc. Therefore if any characters, settings, and/or facts/statements are incorrect, please disregard. However, this body of text is for entertainment purposes only. All characters, settings, scenarios, and dialogue are fictitious. Any similarity to events or persons, whether living or dead, is coincidental.

It was like a movie, from start to finish. Growing up, times were hard and challenges never ceased to fade. But, you pushed through — the good, the bad, and the ugly. Lost ones along the way, realized you couldn’t trust everyone, but you grew. As an independent, young, black woman living in America. And then something happened, that changed everything.

The year of 1998, when fall semester classes at your college just ended, which called for finding a seasonal job for the time being. And that’s how you ended up working at Queen Beauty Supply about two blocks from your place. You grew up knowing Mr. Park (who is the owner and now your boss) all your life. As you were a child, your mother supported his business, always stocking up on flexi rods, Just for Me relaxers, Goody brushes, and all. Even the endless amounts of barrette balls of every color you could think of, she made sure you had. And seeing that you blossomed, Mr. Park was more than honored to hire you for a seasonal gig. You loved him as if he was your family, just as well as he loved you.

It all started that one evening when you worked the register, fancy-ing some Poetic Justice-style braids, showcasing your figure with a halter top and mom jeans. A small stereo behind you blared the latest hits on the radio, Jon B currently on play. You flipped through the latest issue of Word Up! Magazine, admiring the new spread that featured Mya, Monica, and Brandy — your two in. acrylic, nails dragging across the pages. The sound of the bell jingles over the door, indicating the arrival of a customer. Your gaze turns up to greet said customer, and your eyes meet with the fellow that entered.

And damn were you blown away for a hot sec. He was cute, really cute. You hadn’t even realized he asked you something, while standing in front of you on the opposite side of the counter. He’s Asian, obviously. His eyes having told it all. They were different, not shaped like yours, but beautiful. Which was intriguing. But him simple being here in a beauty supply store was interesting, Yes, it’s ironic. The owner himself being Asian, but the intended audience is your fellow black folks. You could tell he’s obviously inspired by your culture since he sported a bucket hat and a loose, white tee that may have been just two sizes too big for him — which is rare nowadays to find on an Asian man. But, you don’t question it. Of course, you’re well aware people of all races are influenced by hip hop culture so in a way, it doesn’t surprise you as much. Okay, maybe a little. But still.

“Can I help you?” His eyes did a weird thing, but it was cute. He was cute.

“Do you have du-rags here?” Your eyebrows raise and head cocks to the side, having abandoned the magazine you were just reading.

“What do you want with a du-rag?” You question, knowing well the texture of his hair can’t form into waves, so you suppose it’s for a fashion statement. He starts blushing, his eyes shut and beautiful pearly whites on display. Damn, did he have you hooked on the spot and you didn’t even know his name yet. You had to hurry up and get him out of here for your own sake, so you took the lead. A few beats passed before he realized you were leading the way to what he needed. He stumbled a little.

“It’s uh- For my performance,” He slips, trailing behind you while passing by the rows of hair-care products, leading towards the back of the store.

“Performance? You dance?” You question, while strutting down the row of where the brushes, combs, barrettes and the jewelry wall was displayed — purposely swaying your hips back and forth just a tad too much for dramatic effect. He definitely noticed, his eyes glued to your form and wondering how your jeans could mold those curves so perfectly.

He blushes at the thought but replies, “I’m a rapper,” And that’s when you stop in your tracks, flipping your braids behind your back and placing your hand on your hip, giving him the same expression that you gave at the counter.

“A rapper?” You ask, while taking him in from head to toe. You notice his white Air Force Ones.

Damn, he is so fine.

He has style, you’ll admit that. But an Asian rapper? That’s unheard of, at least in your neighborhood.

“Do you, boo.” You shrug, while gesturing toward the wall on your left, that displayed various colors of du-rags. You step away to return to the register and then he speaks again.

“What about Blue Magic?” As if he hadn’t surprised you enough, you cross your arms, facing him.

“Well…. it depends on what you want.” You pause, and roll on your heels to walk again, he follows behind you.

“We have coconut oil, but the hair food is out of stock right now. The hair and scalp treatment is limited quantity, but we do have Castor Oil and Super Sure Gro.” You arrive at the row of hair care products, with numerous brands of oils, treatments, and more that cover the shelves. After leaving him there, you admired the way his eyes were shot wide, and you knew damn well he was not 100% sure of what he was looking at — as he searched for the product that piqued his interest.

And so it became a regular occurrence. He’d come in at least once every two weeks, buying the same thing. A du-rag and Super Sure Gro. Some days you’d even be a little extra to “up” your appearance, in hopes he’d notice or in some fantasy world, he’d compliment you. Maybe even ask about you or your day. Or if you’d like to go watch a movie with him or even hit up a spot for some good food. You ponder if he’d be into trying soul food someday. Your mom always did say that a way into a man’s heart is through his stomach. Well, more-so implying that you should know how to get down and dirty in the kitchen.

—

The bell jingles again, while you’re out on the floor stocking up the shelves with bottles of Luster’s Pink Oil Formula. Reaching below into the box to grab a few more bottles, you hadn’t noticed he was towering above you. You jumped slightly when you meet eyes with him, nearly dropping the contents you held onto.

“Don’t you know not to run up on a black woman like that? I may be little, but I can kick your ass!” You both break out into a contagious laugh. He stuffs his hands into his baggy jeans of his, that gorgeous smile spreads across his face. He clears his throat,

“I- Uh- I’m- I’m sorry, I-”

You shake it off, “You’re fine, boo.” Your hand finds its way into his shoulder, a light rub as you brush past him to head for the register. He hesitates, trailing behind you as he fights for the right words to say.

“I-I just, I-” You reach the front of the counter and turn to make eye contact with him. Your eyebrows raise slightly, taking in how he’s struggling to piece his words together. You place your hand on his shoulder again and note how he gazes at you with those same wide eyes you’d grown familiar with over the past few weeks. His lips parted slightly as if he was going to say something but didn’t.

“It’s okay-” You trail off, in hopes he’d catch on.

“Oh, right. N-namjoon. My name is Namjoon.”

You smile in response, lightly rubbing his arm with your palm.

“Is there…. Something you want to say? I promise, I don’t bite,” You state with a soft smile. You notice his shoulders easing themselves down. Part of you wonders what he was so tense for.

“You should come to my performance-” He says rapidly then pauses, looking down and then back up to you, “I would like it- I mean I think that you- You would like my performance.” He internally hates himself for being shy around you, his cheeks so tight and raised from smiling hard, and you could have literally melt in that moment. You thought it was cute to see him that way. To know you made him feel all flustered.

There was a grand amount of effort he’d built to approach you. The very, first day he arrived at the store, he wanted to say something then. He went home that night rehearsing how he’d spark up a conversation with you. He even recalls one time he’d seen you at a bus stop sucking on a lollipop, and how tempted he was to say something then. But he couldn’t. He was afraid of rejection, and he wasn’t sure how to approach you. So when he’d visit the beaut store and see your face, he’d grow warm on the inside. And when you would make eye contact with him, his heart would stop. When you would speak to him with that sweet voice of yours, he’d freeze.

So when you said yes you would be there, he cried afterwards. Not in front of you of course, but on the bus back to his place. He couldn’t believe that you didn’t reject him. Throughout the weeks, he’d contemplated because he didn’t know how you felt about people of his race. He didn’t know how your race felt about people like him in general. Although, it never mattered to him. Because he believed that love is love. As long as you’re happy with that person, that is all what truly matters. He believed everyone deserves to have that kind of love. Little did he know, you felt the same way.

And then things advanced between the two of you.

It was the night he invited you to an underground party, and it was live. Music thumped with never-ending bass, people danced and smoked, and the space felt warm and cluttered, courtesy of body heat. You gradually ease your way through the space, attempting to find some kind of “safe haven” amongst the grinding, moving bodies within the cramped atmosphere. The music settles down, which causes you to look ahead, realizing you’re in front of the stage where the DJ is posted up on the left.

“Alright, y’all! You already know what time it is.” The DJ blatantly announces through his microphone. The crowd somewhat reacts, but not to his liking you assume.

“I said… Y’all already know what time it is!” Everyone goes wild, screaming, chanting and whistling.

“Tonight, I wanna welcome y’all my boy. From the East side, he’s an up and coming rapper- Y’all check this,” He pauses for a moment, “He is a Korean rapper! Y’all feel me? What y’all know about a Korean rapper, aight?” He shakes his head throwing his hands up.

“Imma let y’all have this one, but I’m tellin’ y’all! You don’t know nothing bout this!” You smile uncontrollably, aware of who he’s talking about. Also somewhat anxious to see what the hype is about, your nerves making your stomach churn just a little too much while you’re out in public.

“Give it up for my boy, RM!” The DJ, swivels the record on his turntable back and forth. And there Namjoon was, appearing from the side of the stage, with his du-rag and bucket hat, loose tee, baggy jeans, and those familiar Air Force Ones you’d grown to recognize. You also peep the Cuban chain that adorns his neck.

And then the beat kicks in. Which was also familiar, you note that it’s the beat for “I Need Love.” Everyone starts bobbing their heads, including him. Including you.

He throws his hand up, shoving gestures to go along with the rhythm of the music, while using his other hand to firmly hold onto his mic.

“I’d like to introduce myself, The name is RM, Let’s rewind and take you back to when it first started, Very first time that I walked in the shop, I was startled and I swear I had felt my heart drop, You made me wanna get down on my knees, Begging, please, Coulda told you I was sprung the moment I seen ya,”

He makes eye contact with you and points directly in your direction. He’s talking about you, right? He’s got to be. There’s no way he isn’t. You continue bobbing your head to the beat, and you can’t fight the smile in return.

“Dang baby, how’d you fit in those jeans? Hips got a brother feeling like he’s in a dream, Couldn’t even keep my head straight, Yeah I’m Asian but damn, Somethin’ must have went left and messed up my fam, Sittin’, thinkin’, contemplatin’, and wonderin’, How could I get this fine lil shawty to blushin’? Hopin’ that you’ll say yes and lemme steal you from the scene, Treat you like a queen and show you what a real man can be,”

He stares at you for a moment too long, yet you’ve already grown too hot for the jean jacket you’re wearing over your tube top.

“I need love,” he adds before dropping the mic; everyone suddenly is hype, continuously cheering him on and giving him props for his performance.

“I told y’all! Give it up for my boy, RM!” The DJ adds, patting him on the back while smiling from ear to ear. But, his eyes are focused on you, and only you — who just can’t seem to shake off the bright smile plastered on your face, you attentively graze your bottom lip with your teeth to attempt stopping yourself from smiling so much. But, you fail. And he takes note of that, returning a smile to you. You could tell he’s blushing, his dimples appearing before he dips his head low.

So shy, yet so damn fine. How is that even possible?

—

That same week, he surprised you at work, stumbling in to rap a few verses about how beautiful you are to him, and he pulled a bouquet of roses he hid from behind his back. You remembered that day so clearly. You remembered kissing him, hugging him, holding his hand, smelling the flowers. You also remembered Mr. Park interrupting your little PDA session to scold you about: “No kissing and no sex on the clock!”

But, Namjoon loved you more than you could think. And he didn’t care who in the world thought it was wrong for you two to fall in love. Because the night you two had arrived at his apartment, lips intertwined with one another, and hands roaming each others bodies, was when everything became so clear.

You both stumble inside, too wrapped up in locking lips with one another. Namjoon guides you toward his bedroom; and being the klutz he is, he stubs his shoe on the baseboard leading to his bedroom. You both break the kiss, and you can’t help but chuckle at his clumsy ways.

“Why you laughing at me, huh?” He lifts you up and you can’t help the half gasp/half giggle that escapes your lips, immediately wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bed. He gently lies you down on your back and hovers above you. You unexpectedly snatch his bucket hat off, tossing it somewhere on the floor — his faded, white-blonde and dark brown strands on display.

“Did you have to do my Kangol like that?” He whines with furrowed brows. You tap his bottom lip, dragging your finger across the plump flesh.

“Shut up and kiss me.” His gold Cuban link chain hangs from his neck, prompting your fingers to tug it down, and you do so, his lips smashing with yours yet again. Your fingers lace themselves within his hair, admiring the feel of his oiled scalp. His lips massage yours in a way that’s beyond comforting, and you make sure to inform him how nostalgic kissing feels. Drawn-out moans spew from you, and you can’t help but wonder how in the hell could you be in this time and moment with him. Piece by piece all of your garments end up lost on the ground, along with his clothing. He had you caged in to his bed and kept himself hovered over you, planting kisses along your neck trailing down to your collarbone.

“Mmm, Joon.” You follow his lead, kissing his blush-colored lips, snaking through his silky strands. His hands travel behind your back to remove your lace bra, revealing your breasts that illuminate from the moonlight peeking through the blinds of his window, your chocolate nipples hardened and desperate for attention. His eyes are blown wide, cherishing every dip and curve of your body.

“Wow,” He admits, his erection growing behind his undergarment. He holds a few moments to etch this view of you within his memory, appreciating every trait of your being in this form. His hands find placement on your hips, pulling you to his body completely — the soft, plushness of your breasts pushed against his chest. He rubs the outline of your face, slowly dragging his index finger along your jawline.

“You are the most beautiful woman in the world. You know that?” You let out a small giggle, feeling vulnerable in this state. He kisses you, being sure to suck your bottom lip, pulling and tugging softly with his teeth. His hands roam down your back and land on your ass cheeks, gripping with force. Your breath hitches, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his neck, in hopes to ease him in just a little more. Even though physically it isn’t possible. He teases your bottom lip with a swipe of his tongue, asking for entrance.

And you let him in, sucking and licking him back in response, both of yours saliva mixing with each others, and not a care in the world — too consumed in each other. He gropes your ass, causing a moan to slip from you. His large palms kneading the cushion-y flesh, and damn is he grateful for this moment in time with you. He pulls from your lips with an audible smack, and you relish in the sight of his thick lips all swollen and damp.

“I love you, ____” He admits with those delightful irises.

“I love you too, Namjoon.” He guides you to lie down on your back, hovering above you as he places kisses along your jawline, leading down your neck, taking his time to cherish every part of you. His hands roam along your sides, caressing the curves of your body. He kisses the area between your breasts and stops suddenly, eyeing you for approval. As if understanding, you nod. His tongue peeks out and circles your right nipple, he wraps his lips around the bud and sucks with tenderness, making sure to release with a pop each time while his other hand massages your left breast.

Your core aches as a result, needing to feel him so the void inside your walls can be filled. He repeats this with your other tit, sucking your nipple while massaging the other, pinching and rolling the bud between his fingers. Your core throbs with an intense pleasure, soaking your now soiled panties. He eases down further, planting kisses down your tummy and moving along the inner thighs of your mocha skin, praising the smooth, supple, flesh. His fingers tug the band of your lace panties, and he eyes you again for approval.

“Please,” You plead, and it was all he needed to hear to remove the garment and reveal yourself to him, treasuring the sight of your lips dripping from arousal. He wastes no time, as you feel his warm, wet muscle gliding along your folds, his nose nuzzling your clit in the process. Your fingers snake into his hair and hips buck upwards to move along the rhythmic motions of his tongue, while he devours you whole as if he’d become a man starved.

“Joon!” You praise, panting for air, Your gaze follows between your legs, cherishing the man that continues to eat you out. He watches your expressions, glaring deeply into your eyes as he does so. His fingers ease toward your folds, rubbing his digits along your drenched pussy, coating them with your wet. He watches you still, not wanting to leave your gaze as he enters a finger inside you. You moan his name in response. His finger delves deep within you, your walls sucking him in perfectly.

“So good for me,” He lashes his tongue out to lick your clit in a circular motion. The sight of him between your thighs makes your heart quiver. He deliberately adds a second finger, his lengthy digits curling themselves upwards and dragging along the walls of your womanhood. His nails dig along the flesh of your thighs, keeping you settled and under his grip, his lips suck on your clit til no end. His obscene noises send a shockwave of pleasure through you, and your toes curl at the sensation. He pulls his fingers from out of you and tastes your arousal that clings to him.

“Tastes so good,” He moans, and you can’t help your thighs from rubbing together to ease the tension that has built. Then, he blushes at the view of you, all horny and ready for him. Only him. How can he be so cute and so fine at the same time? You ask yourself this everyday. Your legs move on their own accord, struggling to draw him back in. He chuckles at your actions.

“You want more, baby?” He questions in that deep, sexy voice of his.

You nod in reply, “Yes, Joon. Please, daddy?” His famous dimples reappear, and those mesmerizing, pearly whites appear. He dives back down, trailing kisses along your tummy, leading to your mound. He worships your body as he had wanted to do since the day he met you, gripping and rubbing along your skin. He moans against you, admiring the feel of you under his fingertips. His lips encase around your clit again, and your body jerks from the sudden feeling. His tongue slides along your folds, sucking and slurping, making the most lewd noises.

His fingernails drag along your thighs, adding an odd tingle within you. You follow his motions and graze your nails on top of his hand, when an unexpected bliss washes over you — causing you to writhe underneath him. He continues sucking your clitoris until you can’t take anymore, your legs gliding up an down along his back, back arching off the mattress, eyebrows furrowing and you simply drowning in euphoria with trembling thighs as your nails drag along his scalp and your cries echo within his eardrums.

“Joon, daddy!” Your nails dig further into his hand, and fingers tug harshly onto his strands. Your core now sensitive to the touch, something you’d never experienced before. He moves his head back and forth, delving deeper and not wanting to let go. You scratch his back, now in hopes he’d give up. You’re nearly convinced he’s going to kill you with that tongue of his, and then out of nowhere, he pushes two fingers inside you. Your toes curl for what feels like the millionth time, and you whimper his name repeatedly.

He thrusts his digits into you, a loud squelching noise filling up the space. And you feel those plush lips wrap around your clit again. He ruts against the bed, wanting to feed the tension within his groin. Your feet now having fought the sheets you lay upon, twisting and turning due to the over-sensitivity. But in some strange sentiment, there’s another wave. And here you are having your second orgasm of the night.

“Fuck, Ungh- I’m cumming again!” Your body shakes violently, not having control over the orgasm that’s overtaken you. An uncontrollable scream slips out and you shove Namjoon away from you with a strained push, his chin now glistening with you. He wipes the residue from his face with the back of his hand, grinning at you fucked out and waiting on his bed. He pulls a condom from somewhere in his drawer and wraps himself up.

He was so thick, thicker than you thought. You lay flat on your tummy and Namjoon sets himself on top of you, caging you in again. He notes the glow upon your ebony skin as he coats his protected member with your drenched self, adding a line of his own saliva and finally diving into you with every inch he has, at a slow, steady pace. But the places he reaches leave you wondering what you’d done to deserve this kind of dick.

Magnificent.

“Beautiful, black queen,” he slips in between breaths, rocking his hips against yours. The position granting him a much deeper access. You gasp at his remark, clenching your walls tighter around him, he hisses in response. His warm breath fans the right side of your face, and he presses a kiss along your earlobe while adding,

“All mine. You’re my black queen, understand? Can’t nobody take that away from me.”

“Yes Namjoon,” You reply. “I’m all yours.”

His cock twitches at the sound of his name slipping from your lips within this state — having you underneath him like this, needy, desperate, and only craving him. He inches to meet your lips with his. His kisses are filled with want and desire, full of love. That sweet, sweet love.

“Give it to me daddy,” You say under your breath but audible enough for him to hear, and he takes heed to continue thrusting himself into you, his delicate, golden skin glimmering with perspiration. The sound of your bodies clapping against each other resonate throughout his apartment, as soft whimpers and moans fall from you, and he utilizes every millisecond of this moment to drown himself in your presence.

“So tight, so wet. So beautiful.” His hips buck in a gentle, yet stern manner, causing your body to jerk upward and eyes to shut close in response — his balls slapping your ass with each thrust of his hips, he continuously hits that sweet spot over and over again, your eyes rolling back due to the nostalgia. He eases his fingers in between your legs to rub circles into your clit simultaneously, and it doesn’t take long for your walls to contract for the third time that night.

“Fuck baby,” He coos with followed moans and groans, spilling himself while still buried in you. You shudder underneath him with nails dragging along the sheets, and muffled moans from burying your face, as you call out his name like it was the only function your brain could process.

He eases himself out of you, and you can’t help the low gasp that emits from you — having been so full of him and sensitive at the same time. A few moments later, and the slight shift of the bed indicates he vanished to discard the condom. You simply lay there, slowly processing that he’d given you the best sex you’ve ever had, being that his main focus was pleasuring you.

But it was in those final moments when Namjoon cuddled you afterwards, bodies attached together by sweat, gasping for air and basking himself in the warm, vanilla, sugar aroma of your essence — that he knew he was in love with you. And there was nothing anyone could ever say to change his feelings.

You break the silence having thought of Namjoon’s words you recall from his performance.

“Think you’ve found it?” He watches your form with raised eyebrows.

“Found what?” You trace circles along his chest, gazing upon his abdomen.

“Love,” You state, and a silence falls that makes your body warm up in a flash.

He shakes his head in a “no” gesture, “I don’t think I have.” The sudden pause of his sentence makes your heart drop.

“I know I have.” He kisses your forehead and draws you closer to him, holding onto you for dear life — like he’s afraid he’d lose you. You beam at his gesture, curling up into his figure. His heart thumps from the immense affection between the two of you. Your now closed eyes like an irreplaceable gift to him.

“My around the way girl,” He whispers to himself, while petting your hair and drifting off into slumber.

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fictionbyafangirl · 4 years ago

Text

Tundric Heart

Most shifts that Jill worked were uneventful. The co-workers that she shared shifts with were always the same. Clark was the cook, and if need-be, the bouncer. He was a large, middle-aged man that had served in the army for a few decades. Burly when he had to be, he could be intimidating, but to Jill, he was just the sweetest. Typically, the waitresses had around an hour or two of overlap, which usually meant Trina, a woman who worked three jobs while finishing up college. She was honestly an inspiration and Jill admired her hard work. Trina always set the brunette up for a successful shift. Her regulars were there nightly, without fail.

“Can I get you gentlemen a refill?” She’d usher coffee to Glenn and his brother, Jack, as they wrote up itineraries for their senior’s club right at the bar. The eldest brother, Glenn, preferred his coffee black and straight up. It was amazing how he could swallow the piping-hot liquid just as soon as it was poured. Jack, on the other-hand, liked a bit of sweetness and cream to his, a stack of half-and-half cups usually towered next to his saucer that housed his brew.

“Maybe one more before we go,” Jack mused aloud before placing a sticky note down in his planner. “It seems like a chilly night and I’ll need all the warmth I can get when I leave.” He was cheeky, and Glenn’s chuckle showed that he agreed. Jill topped their mugs off with her customary smile before saddling the pot once more to make her rounds.

“How are you doing over here, Miss Bernice? Need any refills or can I put in a to-go order?” Bernice, and her binder of papers scattered all across the table, did the books for her local church congregation. She had been born in the city and lived her entire life, practically knowing everyone that lived in the area. Her strawberry blonde hair had shifted to a pearlescent white over the years, with one streak of her natural color still weaving its way through.

“You know, I would love another glass of sweet tea, if you could, dear?” Bernice was sweet, grandmotherly in her nature as she smiled with her whole face, her eyes nearly disappearing behind the pleats in her matured skin.

“You got it,” Jill winked before departing from the table to her station with the glass in hand. With ease she punched the addition to Bernice’s order before finding the massive pitcher of sweet tea that Trina had stored in the fridge at the end of her shift. Within a minute, she had the refill back to the woman, glancing to her next table to tend to.. “All set, dear.”

Holliwell, or as she would become known as: Holli, would sit in her booth, solo, to work on her graphic novel. She wasn’t much of a talker, but was kind enough. Jill and Holli mostly stuck to a series of nods and hand gestures, particularly a thumbs-up, for their communication after initially serving her what she normally ordered. The gang of college guys that lived together always had their dinner at the diner, and they always were Jill’s source of entertainment. The group consisted of Matt, Jerome, Steven, Jared and Paul. They were lively, comedic and good-natured. The young men were roommates that rented a house a few blocks from the diner. As typical, collegiate bachelors go, they weren’t blessed in the culinary department and often found themselves at their usual spot with two tables pushed together. They inflicted some harmless flirting onto her, to which she respectfully declined and they would carry on with their stay.

The night would always entail the same, expected things and Jill was comfortable with that as opposed to the opposite. She had worked in a rowdy bar once while trying to make ends meet in her own school days. Between sports nights and events held at the bar, she was constantly having to take care of conflict. She had been thankful for bouncers and speedy policemen before she couldn’t handle the chaos anymore. Simple and quiet suited her as she grew in age, and nonetheless, she loved the relationships she had built with her regulars. Whether it was hearing about their prime or just simply what they had done that very day, she was a welcome ear to chat at. That evening that she worked, everything had been happening like clockwork, that is, until he walked in.

The moment he walked through the door, Jill couldn’t help but to keep an eye on him, subtly watching him take his seat. She hadn’t been the only one who’s attention was grabbed by him. Instantly, Bernice’s watchful eye was on him the moment she heard the chime of the door, casting her eyes back to the array of numbers she balanced, though occasionally checking on him. He was clad in all black like a walking mystery shrouded in secrecy. He was a mixup from her typical shift. Since he shielded his face with his hat, she wasn’t sure if she should approach him, but her better judgement told her to treat him as if he were any other customer. Jill topped off Glenn’s coffee, almost forgetting to pay attention as her focus was pulled elsewhere.

Thankfully, she regained her rights and made sure her current customers were taken care of before making her way to the mob of young adult men who were particularly rambunctious this night. She overheard garbled conversation of advancing to the state playoffs which filled in all the gaps she needed to know. With her order booklet ready, she made rounds. They typically didn’t venture from what they frequently ordered, which made Jill’s life a tad bit easier.

“Hey Jill, when are you going to let me take you out of this place to a real restaurant?” Paul smirked at her, having given similar variations of the same line to her in the past. The blonde man with brown eyes was a football player for the local college, hoping to make it big. In fact, they all played for the football team. Paul had always been the most vocal about his flirting, clearly having not been turned down in his hometown very often. Jill didn’t know if his jaw could drop any faster than it had the very first time he asked her out and she declined. He recovered quickly and played it off as though he had only been half-serious, but she could see he had been slightly jilted with the word ‘no’.

“When you can afford me, so… never?” She was quick and clever when it came to shooting them down. The boys had never gone beyond playful, to which she was thankful for. “So, who is next? Who’s gonna shoot their shot now?” Jill gestured for the next grab, though it was evident that she was being lighthearted with them. All were hysterical, always prompting laughter from the waitress’ lips. They varied in the degree of their attempt, Paul usually being the worst and Steven being the gentlest. Matt was from the Northeast with his evident accent that he swore he didn’t have. Jerome was from the south, vowing to make his mother proud with his grades and athletics scholarship. Jared was from the Northwest, a country boy that tended to the family farm but broke off with bigger aspirations in life. Steven was a lean Asian man that defied his family to play football. They had planned his life for him, which he didn’t dream of. Jill was proud of him for standing his ground to live his own life. He was, by far, the sweetest of the bunch with his pickup lines, which the waitress surmised was just to fit into the situation. Everyone else was doing it, so he figured he would, as well. It almost made her want to accept his proposal just to mess with his friends, but almost wasn’t enough to convince her of doing so. She addressed each one, waiting for the playful pickup lines before shutting them down with grace, poise and a smile on her face. It was flattering that they found her attractive despite having ten-or-so years on them. She took pride in how she kept herself together, applying extra effort when need be, but she took care of herself and apparently it showed.

As she jotted down each meal order, Jill couldn’t help but to feel as though she were being watched by a spectre in the corner. He had been so silent, so still the entire time. It was eerie, yet she wanted to see his face, which was beyond her. She wanted to find out the reasoning behind the masking. She wasn’t sure what to expect beneath the hat, nor did she know if she’d even get that far. Finishing with the young men, she took a minute to go pin the checks to the order wheel, momentarily shielded by the walls that formed the cook’s alcove. Using a small mirror, she used her fingertips to give her hair a tousle and re-apply her lipstick, a warm nude color, rubbing her lips gently together. The man was new to the diner and it was her job to ensure he had a pleasant time to return. Jill’s boss had confided in her the troubles the diner had hit so any customer was a step toward keeping the doors open.

Jill drew in a long breath that rooted itself in her stomach, her chest raising and falling as though weighted down with an anxious feeling before walking out toward the table that sat the cloaked gentleman. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why she was so curious and intrigued about him. For all she knew he could have been a homicidal maniac just moments from breaking out in a murderous rampage. Yet something nagged at her, drawing her interest to him as her feet, quite literally, brought her physically closer to him. Each step was heavy in its placement, a specific destination lying ahead of her. The diner was typically kept at a pleasant temperature, with the exception of days with colder weather, such as the evening she was working, that the staff would dab the thermostat up a bit. With the cook’s ovens and burners constantly blazing and the hot coffee brewing into stainless steel carafes all day long, Jill always found the climate within the diner to be suitable for how she dressed. She had chosen the comfortable flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up after checking the weather before her shift, though she noticed as she neared the lone table against the glass that she seemingly became colder, a chill dancing atop her flesh. Bringing her hands briefly to rub over the top of the sleeves of her shirt to warm herself, Jill continued on her path.

The waitress pulled a deep, reassuring breath through her lips before approaching the table. The bill of the man’s hat had been pointed in the direction of the opposite side of the diner, never moving once he settled in. Without thinking, Jill took the few extra strides to move in front of his view, her hands moving to perch on the curve of her waist before speaking as she smiled though his face never once glanced up to acknowledge her. She could practically feel Bernice’s prying eyes boring into her back, shielded by the waitress.

“Hi, there! I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. My name’s Jill and I’ll be your waitress on duty tonight. What can I get you?” Jill added a bit of pep to her voice, her one hip subtly cocked out to place most of her weight on the corresponding foot. She tried, for the life of her, to figure out why she wanted to hear what his voice sounded like so badly in that very moment. Perhaps it was the classic trope of the good, innocent girl and the bad, mysterious boy but he was such an enigma to her. Her eyes followed his hand as he fumbled with the menu provided, but still, he didn’t move his head a single inch. She anticipated hearing him speak. She could see from his nose down to his chin and neck, which from what she saw was more than appealing, but he remained in the shadow of the bill of his hat. Jill wasn’t sure if hearing him speak would alleviate her curiosity or add to the mystery, but she still waited to hear him.

“Green tea. Iced.” His voice was low, yet smooth. A mixture of a whisper and coarseness. Jill felt every hair on her arms raise in reaction, her flesh prickling as a small shudder swept over her. His voice was far different than what she had imagined in her mind, but it wasn’t different in a bad way, based on her body’s involuntary response to three simple words. Yet, those three words, watching them leave his mouth, watching the details of his lips as he formed them was enough for her to forget for merely a moment where she was and what she was doing. Blinking hard to bring herself back to reality, Jill fumbled with her hands to grab her order pad and pen, giving one blunt nod before scrawling down his request.

“Iced green tea, coming right up. What’s uh… a name I can put on this order?” The waitress hoped she recovered nicely to not expose her nerves. Why on earth was she so timid and coy when it came to this man that she didn’t even know? Confusion didn’t even begin to touch the way she felt inside, knowing that this elusive man was simply another customer, yet still, there was a strange, baffling draw toward him. Jill’s teeth found the inner-edge of her lips, gnawing as the tension of the moment flared. At least she’d have a name for half of the face.

“Brian.” Faint and subdued, just as before, though she did detect a hint of an accent. More curiosities swirled around in her brain as she then began to wonder about where he was from, what brought him here, of all places. What he did. She just simply wanted to know him… though finally, she had a name. She thought of asking more, but instead, she kept her professional distance. If he had the capacity to peek inside her mind he’d surely be out of the door in an instant. Still, she wasn’t a moron as he definitely made it known through his demeanor that he surely didn’t want to be bothered.

“Right. Iced green tea for Brian, coming right up.” Jill held the book of paper and pen to her chest before twisting around on the balls of her feet, her hair swinging listlessly as she made the turn. Despite her wanting to keep in his company and continue asking him whatever popped in her mind, his disposition made her better judgment kick in.

Jill found herself at her work station, entering her credentials into the kiosk. She gripped the edges of the table and bent over to release a long, shaky breath as it loaded the program on the screen. Her eyes closed briefly, unable to pinpoint exactly what in the hell was up with her that night. She never lost her cool, and more importantly, never felt so compelled to a stranger. ‘Get a grip, Jill. Snap out of it’. She was glad her brain still had a semblance of rationality. Bringing herself back, she lifted her head to punch in the order for the table before suspending it to make the tea. It wasn’t ordered often in the diner, but the task had seemed simple enough. She placed the tea bags into the cup, pouring half of the water from the heated spigot to allow it to steep. While she waited for the essence of the green tea to infuse with the water, she prepared a saucer with an array of sweeteners and a straw, making sure each placement was precise and to her liking in a circular fan-shape. She couldn’t figure out why on earth she was putting so much thought into it but still, she strived to make a good impression. Once the tea was ready, she added the rest of the cold water and ice to top it off. She placed the glass in the center of the display of paper packets and ushered it over to his table, swallowing hard as the distance between them closed.

“Enjoy, Brian... “ Jill smiled as she sat the tea down on the table beside him, though he couldn’t see her expression through the thick material of his hat, opting for a slight nod instead. Jill lingered for just a moment before pacing backwards slowly away, turning on her heel to check in with Holli, then next Bernice, and finally to check on the group of guys, occasionally casting a glance Brian’s way in hopes to catch a glimpse of his full-face. He was stoic as he sat, his hand only moving to take idle sips of the tea, opting to drink it plain. She hoped she had prepared it well enough to his liking.

He never ordered anything else. The entirety of his stay he nursed that tea and made it last throughout it. Jill had said her goodbyes to Glenn and Jack, sending them off in their usual manner before closing their tab and setting aside the same allocated tip they always left on their bill. It wasn’t much, but it was a nice gesture. The meals of the college students were ushered out swiftly. Next came her duties of refilling condiments, prepping for the next shift that would relieve her. It was all about helping out. She cleared Holli’s table after she had left, though Holli only ever ordered appetizers, keeping her table free of obstacles as her pencil was constantly on her sketch pad.

“Anything else I can get for you, or are you packing up for the night?” Next was the bookkeeper’s turn as she helped Bernice gather her things and return them to her orderly nature. The bookkeeper was growing older in age and appreciated all the help she could get. Jill crouched down to the elder woman’s level as she leaned in close, one defined brow among her wrinkly complexion arched in suspicion as she glanced toward the massive pane of glass.

“No, I’m doing just fine. But have you seen that fellow over there? I don’t know about you, but he seems up to no good… So very odd.” The woman’s voice was gravelly, yet quiet. Her deep, blue eyes fixated on him as though she were the watch-person for the diner. Truth be told, she was a nosey woman who loved to impede where she could. Shifting on her feet, still crouched, to cast a glance at the man in black. She couldn’t help the chill that trickled down her spine in the most exhilarating way. She captured her plump lower lip between her teeth, gently biting down in thought before turning back to the matronly woman.

“Oh, stop that, Bernice,” she said teasingly to her customer. “That doesn’t seem very becoming of you to judge someone you don’t even know. Besides, he’s probably just passing through and you’ll probably never see him again. Maybe he’s waiting on a car repair and has nothing but time to sit and relax? You just don’t know.” Jill was right and Bernice knew it. Her pride made the older woman turn her nose upward, her chest puffed as though she would rather appear courageous in her accusations than recoil in defeat. Jill gathered up the clutter after assisting the woman, though after Jill’s remark, she managed to finish cleaning up her things on her own. Pride could be unbecoming for some.

Jill brought the dirty dishes to the back to throw in the washer in her off-time before it was time to close out the group of friends and their order. She collected all their payment methods and returned with their corresponding receipts. They had always been kind tippers, despite being college students. Their mothers would be proud. She said her goodbyes, wished them safe travels and told them she’d see them the next night, just as though it were second nature. Her smile was bright as her eyes followed them toward the door, noticing Brian had left already without a trace. Jill’s eyebrow quirked as she made her way to his table to clear the untouched saucer and glass. He had finished the beverage completely. Lifting each item, she noticed the bill tucked beneath the condiment holder. He had left a fifty dollar bill to purchase a two dollar drink with free refills. The edges of Jill’s lips twitched upward in a smirk as she picked it up. She was more than flattered but knew she was undeserving of such a tip. As her eyes lifted to peer through the glass into the dark and rainy evening, they settled on the abandoned building outside, seemingly in a daze of hoping she’d left a good enough impression that he’d return.

Jill put the remainder of Brian’s money into an envelope to stow in her locker in the employee’s break room. If he’d come back, she’d kindly remit it back to him. She’d give it a month before accepting his generosity, though it was hardly something she expected with how impersonal he had been with her. Despite that, she still looked forward to his presence, should he show again, more than she should have.

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