#black wrtiers

[jessequinones]

Writing Trope: The Magical Black Person

Ever since I started embracing my indigenous background, my perspective on things changed. Matters I never gave a second thought now give thought. Though I may not be the best at offering advice, I'd like to attempt it, focusing today on the "magical black person" trope. For clarification, I'm a white-passing Puerto Rican of Taino and Berber descent, with much of my life lived in the United States under a white family. I say all of this because the actual name for the trope is called the “magical negro” trope however since I grew up under a white family I don’t feel comfortable saying the actual name but it’s there if you wish to do some research.

The magical black person trope is simple; consider any Stephen King or Morgan Freeman movie (bonus points if you can name a movie with Morgan Freeman based on a story by Stephen King). Typically, there's a black character who aids the white hero by providing advice. If the magical black person is a woman, she often speaks her mind, offering the white hero needed truths. If the character is a black man, he adopts the strong, silent type, conveying profound meaning with few words.

This trope becomes most evident when the magical black person is the sole character of colour. They’re rarely portrayed as rich or powerful; instead, they embody humility and thoughtfulness. Despite potential intimidation, the black man typically has a soft side. Although often less privileged than the white hero, the magical black person aids them because it's the right thing to do. Sometimes, these characters only cross paths once, yet the magical black person imparts essential wisdom that propels the hero forward.

Writers employing the magical black person trope may unconsciously attempt to showcase inclusivity by saying, "I'm not racist; I have a person of color in my story, and they help the hero!" However, if you change the identity of the black character nothing is loss.

Ironically, even in stories advocating against racism, this trope is still relevant as the black person sacrifices everything for the white hero out of "love." A notable example is the relationship between Jim and Tom Sawyer, where Tom gets shot, and Jim risks everything to nurse him back to health.

Elders and tribal leaders also fall under this category. It's almost comical how frequently a white hero enters a tribal village, seeks guidance from the tribal leader, and receives assistance simply because it's deemed the right thing to do. The tribal leader will also give the white hero a spirit name and welcomed them as part of their village. In reality, many elders that I know of had told white people to fuck off.

The inclusion of magical black people can feel forced, as if they exist merely to fulfil a checkbox. The advice they provide is often simplistic, and sometimes the advice had already been given to the hero, but at the time of the story, they were unwilling to hear it, making the magical black person seem redundant.

This trope often intertwines with the "white man's burden," seen in stories where white people “ends racism” with the help of the black community without facing accountability for their actions. "The Help" is a film that get’s a lot of flack for doing just that.

In essence, what makes the magical black person trope problematic is that it reduces them to a servant role for the white hero while positioning them as an exception within their own community. White creators tend to praise the individual black character rather than appreciating black culture—a distinctly white tendency.

The saying "it takes a village to raise a child" isn’t a common approach for white individuals, who often lead isolated lives. Popular stories by white authors emphasise the individual hero's ability to save the day because they’re "special." While the hero may receive assistance, those who help them serve a singular purpose—assisting the hero rather than being integral to the journey. (Not to mention the hero gets the girl in the end because of sexism but I won’t get into that with this post.)

To address this trope, engaged with the community you want to write about. Give the magical black person a meaningful role in the story, making them indispensable. Additionally, consider adding more people of color to your narrative. It could also be beneficial to position the magical black person in a higher position than the hero. Please don’t just listen to my advice, talk to others you’ll learn more, trust me. 

Understanding tropes, their origins, and their implications is a crucial step in becoming a skilled writer. Challenging yourself to view things from different perspectives enhances your writing abilities. If you have any writing-related questions, feel free to message me. You can do it anonymously if you wish. While I may not be perfect, I'll try my best because I like writing, and I like teaching so I’m trying to combine the two. See you next time.

[deadhumourist4loif]

Remember those nights of pink skies and unicorns?

Back when we loved to colour dark , lonely houses with our laughters and adorn tainted hearts....A time so golden that recalling those bright moments still blinds me into believing in the possibility of love.... Memories of my good years spent tasting happiness on the tip of our tongues while bathing in illicit sensations serve as an emollient to my soul...

I wonder where would all these pretty moments captured by our hearts go when our hearts are no longer beating?

Won't the world know bout the secrets shared hiding in the closet , the spoiling of a girl by a certain mischievous pair of eyes?

My vision blurs the present into a kaleidoscope of the past events.....Golden , pure and standing still against the ruthless pace of world are the unblemished recollections of those old times .... Then, love didn't ask for much. It didn't compel me to fall. Love just took my hand and kept me away from the deafening noises of the adult world.

Back then , trouble meant following you through the woods after dark... I couldn't learn to resist the twinkle of your blue eyes...

You once said, " That's how Satan tempts people, beauty is indeed tempting"

And bcz I was curious to a fault, it never really occurred what you meant with that..

Was it a challenge or a warning?

But one thing I'm sure of , I was intrigued by the adventures your elysian eyes promised....A summer left me ineffably cold... Something ethereal mesmerized me , something that I was afraid would slip through my fingers and be lost in the air... Something that felt like love...A summer love....My young mind couldn't comprehend it but was keen on keeping it close to my heart.....

They told me it's not real , just one of the creations of my imaginary world like fairies and angels...

They didn't know bout the magic of your whispers, the tingles they would leave.....The twinkle in your eyes dimmed all other sparkling toys..

Even unicorns and fairies.

[americanwh0resstuff]

Six sentence Sun(Fri)day

Shhh I know it’s the wrong day

Saw this on one of my favourite blogs @careless-with-your-heart who is definitely my fav fic wrtier at the moment, so please all izombie fans on here, give them a look!

But for all my midnight mass fans! Here’s a snippet from an upcoming chapter in god knows I tried…

Her hands flew up into his hair, his hands gripping her hips tightly, pushing her against the cool wood of the booth, she groaned softly as he pinned her between himself and the wall, his body pressed against hers.

It was like a match igniting, all this bottled up pressure finally being released.

The kiss was hard and hot, teeth clashing, Liz couldn't help but smile into Paul's lips, holding back a giggle at his messy and uncertain approach, it was obvious that he was inexperienced, she wondered if this was his first kiss, or maybe first in a long time? He was rough yet caring, his hands soothing over the back of her head where he'd pushed her against the hard panelling, his thumbs tracing over the harsh fingerprints on her hips.

It wasn't until she pulled him closer by his shirt that she noticed something hard pressing against her stomach, through his black slacks, she whimpered softly as she rocked her hips into his and trailed her hand down to his belt.

With that he pulled back, looking at her with fear in his eyes. back, looking at her with fear in his eyes.

[blkgirlcafe]

Home

Viktor Drago x Cyra (Black OFC)

Cyra (Ky-Ra) -Sun or throne 

Kazimir (Kah-Zee-Meer) - Bringer or Announcer of peace

Viktor Drago is married to the love of his life, they have a 5 year old son. He is willing to do anything to keep them safe. 

Warning: Kidnapping, abuse, mentions of child abuse

 “Honey please slow down, remember we have to look for cars.” Cyra rushed behind her little boy Kazimir. 

They were leaving Target, last minute run after soccer practice, Kazi had so much energy that not even practice had slowed him down. Cyra casually looked over her shoulder again, scanning the faces around her. Kazi grabbed her hand at the crosswalk, waiting for the line of cars to stop. 

“Hey baby, think you can walk by yourself, I’m going to call papa.”

“Yes Mommy.” He let go of her hand, clutching his toy dino. 

She dug around in her purse, finding her phone, not yet stepping off the sidewalk, wanting to confirm her suspicion. 

She quickly called her husband from the call log, he picked up on the third ring, she put him on speaker.

“Yes My love.” His deep eastern European accent greeted her. 

“Tata!” Kazi yelled. 

“Sush.” she made him be quiet, not many people left on the sidewalk, “Babe, we are headed to the car, maybe meet me halfway, Kazi is being a handful.”

She and Kazi finally crossed the street, heading to the parking garage that was across the street. 

“Sure my love.” he played along. 

She didn't hang up, trying her best to look around her and keep track of Kazi. With her car in sight, she hit the lock. They walked past a big ford truck, Kazi pointing at it. She heard the steps before she saw the man. The same man that followed them from the toy aisle to the bread and finally here. He had a gun, and it was pointed directly at her side, she wasn't even sure kazi could see it. 

“My Husband is in the car.” She lied. 

“No he is not sweetie, I watched you come, I already checked your car, give me your phone.” 

Cyra almost let a small sigh out, maybe it was just a robbery. Her thoughts were it was either a robbery or a child snatching, he could have all the stuff as long as he left her son alone. 

Cyra handed the phone over, Viktor was still on the line, breathing heavily. 

“Now listen close to me Viktor Drago, you will not under any circumstances call the authorities, cops, anything like that. You do and I kill your wife and drop your son in the middle of a foreign country, do you understand.”

“Yes.” was all he said. 

Cyra wanted to faint, whatever this was, it was worse than she thought.

[jhe-thecreative-blog]

Black Queens

unruly hair

for an unruly soul,

surrender to me

and I'll keep you whole.

the love from 

a Black Woman

is overlooked

and taken for granted.

we come from royalty

we build up kings

love us the right way

and we’ll give you everything.

jhé

[adnlewis-blog]

Sometimes as an artist, you start dope stuff that, for one reason or another, never gets finished, and it ends up collecting dust on a hard drive for ages (despite its clear dopeness). 🤷🏽‍♂️

“TAKE TWO” is a collection of all those songs, reworked, reimagined, reproduced, resung, redone in ADN-2018 style. If you’ve been following me for a while, you may even recognize a couple tracks. So here’s “Signature (Interlude I)”, the first track off of the TAKE TWO project. 🎬 So excited and anxious to finally release this song after so long. I started writing this back when I first moved to LA. About the feeling you get when you’re far away from someone that’s so close to your heart. Exclusively on SoundCloud and YouTube (Spotify & other streaming platforms coming soon)

[afroafrofuturistfuture]

Missed 2/4/18- A dumb post about kissing.

I’ve been thinking about simple kisses. I want to get temple kisses because I’m so darn independent and introspective. You know the ones. The kisses a person gets when they’re up working up late and their partner is going to bed. The partner gives them a kiss on the temple and leaves them to their speculating. Those people who are burning the midnight oil to make their dreams come true who don’t need sweet “I love you” cheek kisses but “I care about you” temple kisses. Or they get those because their partner is much taller than them. I think that’s me or it should be. Or do I get more cheek kisses? Because I pull out someone else’s sweet side with my own? Smack in the middle of soft skin with even softer skin to get the full impact of what’s supposed to be affectionate love. But what about jaw kisses? That’s where all the passion is. Not going straight for the neck but giving just enough hint in the head tilt and the placement of the mouth, caught in between two important areas to be kissed. Jaw kisses are the ones caught between “I want you” and “I care”. 

Kisses can mean a lot of different things depending on where they came from, where they land, how they feel. Corner of the mouth kisses are clumsy and full of nerves. In fact, unless a person is trying to adorn their person with the sticky sweetness of fluttering kisses, anywhere close to the lips but not quite there is clumsy and full of nerves. Hand kisses are a display. A thought out gesture that imitates respect. But these things are only important because they’re for my characters. They will experience all the minutiae I have to offer them.

I could go on but who’d read all that? 

[antiloreolympus]

5 Anti LO Asks

1. I get why they wouldn't do it but Webtoons should put a cap on how many episodes a comic can have, because Rachel is obvs going to drag LO in the 300s and beyond at this point, which is just not good writing when so little has actually moved along. If they said she was only allowed at most 150 episodes then she'd be forced to cut the excess and really put focus on what needs to be told/developed, not letting her shove in what seems like 12 different comic ideas into one.

2. The character design is so lazy that people act like it's "pushing the boundaries" that Leto has black eyes. Like what?? That's just Hera with different eyes? Then there's Daphne being a Persephone rip off, Athena is just Hades in gray, Thanatos is Hades in white, like?? How lazy can you be with this? At least give them some interesting clothes?

3. i know this would verge right into "woman dies for man pain" territory but there is some debate leuce was originally hades' first wife and when she died thats why he went so long without finding another one because he was so upset over her passing. then again she's a nymph and rachel has some weird hard on against "lower class" women so she'd never allow that

4. I feel like LO ran right into the same issue of other series do where the wrtier thinks they're smart for making the series Mature™️ by trying to bring up real world issues (classism, capitalism, slavery, etc) but because they also want a rich person fantasy who benefits from these injustices they end up in a dumb middle ground of trying to justify their rich asshole characters and how the injustices are actually a good thing. Rachel your talent isnt in writing please dont overcomplicate it more

5. Yknow, I think I’d like Persephone a lot more if she was a bitch. Imagine if she took advantage of Hades’ special treatment of her, and flaunted the fact that he was in love with her—all for her own gain. She could still be naive, but not in the childlike way she is, rather she doesn’t understand the dangerous game she’s playing by taking advantage of the literal king of the Underworld. I just think something like that would be way more interesting than her current personality & motives. 

[meetveronicablack]

Best of Me

On some days, like today, my doubts won’t be quiet.

They whisper terrible things that take a big bite out of my insecurities. 

And when they do, I can’t help but wonder.

Wondering and contemplating if I have done enough.

I even wonder if I’m beautiful. 

Scary, what the mind can do once you let go of the reins.

These doubts find a way to torment me until I succumb. 

Distasteful and painful are these thoughts. These wild insecurities that make me wonder if you love me today.

What kind of person am I to let it get the best of me?

I know I’m better than that.

....At least, I like to think I know that I’m better than that...

[sweet-art-o-mine]

Can I request... Silco and Jinx in a situation where Jinx is severely injured and Silco gets all protective and whatnot ;; Or what would've happened if he was awake during Singed's operation on her? Whichever one of the two you'd like, honestly! Requesting this because my heart just swelled 5x over when he found her on the bridge; I don't know why I have a spot for this type of angst but I do and Arcane robbed any future moments like that with them 😩

[[A/N: Hi! Author Allie here. Thank you for the request! I also love angst a whole lot (fun fact: before meeting Ami, I used to be purely an angst wrtier lol. But she taught me how to write romance and fluff<3), and I'm sooo sad we'll never get more dad Silco moments in the show 😭😭 hopefully this short drabble will placate you. Hope you enjoy!]]

He knew he had made a fool of himself, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

The way he paced in his office, his one good eye scanning the same parchment of paper over and over - seeing the words on the paper but being unable to comprehend them. Every thought in his head twisted to the memory of his daughter, injured and bleeding out where he’d found her.

He was supposed to be looking over the numbers of his Shimmer sales in his office, but the moment one of his underlings had barged into the room to tell him how the latest mission had gone wrong, he’d pushed his way through the bustling people in The Last Drop until he found her. Her shock of blue hair stood out amongst the crowd, but it was stained with red blood and ash-grey soot. The soot was a familiar sight, he’d seen it on her far too many times after her gadgets failed to work the way she’d intended and would - quite literally - blow up in her face. But the blood… the shock of red sent a rush of cold fear through his body.

“Jinx!” He’d called, moving towards his daughter. The crowd parted as soon as they recognized the voice. Sevika was holding the teen girl in her arms, injured herself but not as severely. Silco couldn’t help but wonder if the blood on her jacket was her own, or if it belonged to the girl in her arms.

“She’s alive,” Sevika placated, panting from the effort of running all the way here with the girl in her arms. “Someone called the doctor, he’s on his way.”

“What happened?” He’d asked immediately, eyes wide as he scanned over her bruised and bloodied body. His hands hovered over her nervously, needing to prove to himself that she’s here, she’s alive, but simultaneously afraid that if he laid his hands on her she’d shatter like glass. Jinx was barely conscious, muttering something under her breath that he didn’t even try to understand. Her blue eyes were open but glazed over. Before Sevika could get a word out, he found himself scowling at her - his shock and fear turned to bubbling anger. “How could you let this happen?”

It was all downhill from there. She argued back, of course, always angry to be blamed for something Jinx had caused - but the argument had been cut short as the doctor arrived to tend to the injured. Silco had been adamant on staying to oversee the treatment, but the bandaged doctor told him he couldn’t work with him pacing and looking over his shoulder every few seconds. Thus, Silco had, very hesitantly, made his way back to his office.

He shook his head, placing the papers down on his desk much harsher than intended. He ran his hands through his black and grey hair, trying to soothe his wracked nerves. Sevika had been right, of course - he had no intentions of babying Jinx. She was smart, reliable and strong, and she could handle herself. There are always mishaps in battle, he tried to remind himself. She should have been more careful, it was nobody’s fault but her own…

Yet, his fatherly instincts told him to rage against those who’d hurt his only daughter. His only family. A part of him screamed - how dare they? They’ll pay for this - but he drowned it out with the click of a lighter as he lit his cigar.

She’ll be fine. The doctor told him it looked worse than it actually was, she’ll be back on her feet and causing mayhem for the Topsiders in no time.

He looked around his office as he inhaled deeply, the usually warm smoke serving to only chill him further as his thoughts ran rampant. The monkey mug sat on his desk, mocking him with the angry frown that Jinx had scribbled onto it long ago - yet he could only look at it with fondness. The ashtray he favored was the same, drawn all over in bright neon colors. He looked up and saw the same treatment all along the rafters of his office. Bright colors, random scribbles, childish monsters with razor teeth and sharp claws, and various ‘Jinx was here’s all over the room. With every little doodle he glanced at, his heart sank. She wouldn’t die, he tried to tell himself. She could not die…

For how could he live without her?

[vanillelavendernotes]

when will the mourning end? /  when will the morning come?

@kingvernonjordaniii 

[ptw30]

I'm really trying to understand what fans like about Shiro. I mean, he doesn't have a character arc and is same throughout the series. He's the perfect leader in the beginning and that stays the same until the end of the series. Maybe it's the sympathy? I'm very sympathetic towards Shiro's character for the things he went through but just Shiro as a character is very bland. I love that he's Japanese and disabled but all that aside, Shiro is really bland.

Hi, Mr. Dos Santos and Ms. Montgomery. Thanks for stopping by, but I don’t think my blog is for you. Plus, the series is over. Why do you care what characters the fans like now? Move along.

…you’re still here? Fiiine.

First, you say that you are sympathetic, not empathetic, meaning you are dissociating. I want to make clear - almost all disabled, PoC, and people with PTSD do not want your pity. If they ever want anything from you - ever - it’s empathy. So get off your condescension horse and join us in reality, will you?

Second, you don’t understand character development. Just because Keith starts acting like Shiro, doesn’t mean that Keith had character development. And it’s clear you don’t know the difference between static and dynamic characters, because despite what you think - no one evolved in Voltron. A few characters actually regressed - Allura from being a strong commander to being nothing more than a foot soldier, literally; and Shiro goes from being the Galra Empire’s strongest fighter - their potential greatest weapon - to a spectator. 

But most of the characters just began acting like others without any catalyst - Shiro begins acting like Allura, Keith begins acting like Shiro, Lance begins acting like Keith. That isn’t development, and if you feel Shiro is bland, then you should think Keith in Seasons 7 & 8 is because it’s obvious the production team played cut and paste, and put Keith in for Shiro. 

But Shiro had a character arc. It was to free Black (external struggle), then to free himself from the Galra Empire and its hold over him by finding out about his past or deciding he didn’t need to know (internal struggle). Thus - Shiro would discover that he wasn’t too broken to be a paladin.

The issue is - if the rumors are to be believed - the series bible was thrown out. At S3, Shiro went from being a character to a plot device, and thus - his character arc ended. Kuron was injected into story, which as you know - is a different character completely. When Shiro re-enters the story in Season 7, the end of his arc technically ended - he’s not a paladin. He’s too broken. End of his story. 

However, the story never shows that, either. It never says Shiro is no longer a paladin. It just says Shiro no longer pilots Black. I explain that here - Obligatory Post-Season 8 Meta: Shiro is still the Black Paladin.

Pretty much - the EPs/writers decided Shiro was to serve one purpose and one purpose only - to help Keith get into Black, and that’s it.

Yeah, good try, Mr. Dos Santos and Ms. Montgomery, but you can’t just erase a character and say, “Now he’s a plot device. Stop liking him.” Writing doesn’t work that way, and people don’t work that way. 

Third, everyone has a reason why they identify with a certain character. The fact that you don’t identify with Shiro but instead, look to other characters is normal. But you shouldn’t discount a complete segment - the biggest segment - of the fandom just because you don’t understand Shiro for whatever reason. 

And btw - you miss the entire point of Shiro’s character. He’s not perfect. He has flaws. He struggles with his position, both as a leader and as a paladin, and his arc was to show him opening up to others in order to find his place in the universe. 

He went into space for no other reason than wanting to be an astronaut and see space, and he’s a genuine good person trying to do good.

Dude, how can you not love that?

[blkgirlcafe]

Home PT. 8

iktor Drago x Cyra (Black OFC)

Cyra (Ky-Ra) -Sun or throne

Kazimir (Kah-Zee-Meer) - Bringer or Announcer of peace

Viktor Drago is married to the love of his life, they have a 5 year old son. He is willing to do anything to keep them safe.

Warning: Kidnapping, abuse, mentions of child abuse

Flashback #8

Viktor couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. As usual he meet her at the gym when she was finished. She had been quiet, normally she had a story to tell him about her day. 

Now they were eating dinner together and she hadn’t tried to steal food off his his plate. 

“Vik…” she stopped looking at him before looking away. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I leave in two months, I go back home.” 

Everything stopped for Viktor. He knew this day was coming but still was not prepared at all. 2 months, he would no longer have his girlfriend here to hold. Surely when she got back to America she would forgot all about him. 

“Viktor did you hear me?” She had set her fork down. 

“No, I’m sorry.” 

“I said, I don’t want to leave you, I love you.”

Cyra has never been shy, but telling a man that she loved him made her feel bashful. 

“I love you too Cyra, how can we make this work?” 

“Come with me?” She perked up, “I already got offered a job.”

“That would mean I would have to leave…”

“Ivan.” She said a scowl on her face, she never cared for the man. 

“And my home, this is the only place I have ever know.” 

Vik bounced around the ring, he was throwing light punches, not ready to down his opponent, they wanted a fight, he would give them a fight. He could already tell that his opponent was tired, his opponent threw sloppy shots that left him open. The bell dinged signaling the end of round 4, Viktor sat in his corner, looking around the ring into the crowd, he wanted to see his wife face. 

“Damm you are doing good, two more rounds then lay him out.” his trainer said. 

Viktor just nodded, spitting in the bucket before drinking some water. 

“Is she coming?” his trainer asked. 

“I hope so.” was all he said before shoving the mouth guard back into his mouth. The bell dinged and Viktor stood, this time he took his frustration out on his opponent, hit after hit to his middle, making him double over before Viktor hit him with a uppercut, his opponent went down, hitting the mat hard, blood spraying from his mouth. 

____

“Cyra are you sure?” 

This was Trey's third time asking her so she ignored him. Yes she was sure, she didn’t need medical care, neither did Kazi, they both just wanted to see Viktor. 

“Fine.” Trey gave up. 

The traffic around the arena was hell. Trey double parked in a spot meant for law enforcement, Cyra jumped out before he even turned the car off. She grabbed Kazi and walked towards the entrance. 

She was stopped at the door, someone asking for tickets. She never had tickets, she tried to tell the guy but he stood firm. Until Trey caught up with her, he flashed a badge and they were let in. 

“Hold him.” Cyra handed Kazi over to his uncle. 

The arena was packed, seats filled to capacity with spectators. Cyra learned from Viktor that people loved violence, they liked seeing two men fight almost to death for their entertainment. 

Trey walked in front of her, moving people out the way easily. They made to the section right behind the announcer table, Cyra leaned against the barrier on her tippy toes. 

She didn’t say anything, just looked at her husband. Kazi started whining, he never been to a fight, it was too much for a child. When Kazi spotted his father he shouted out his name, causing Viktor to turn. 

The slip cost him a punch that landed squarely on his jaw, making him stumble into the ropes. He leaned against the ropes, looking at them. Cyra smiled at him, tears in her eyes. 

He pushed himself off the ropes, more energy in his step than before. He was going to finish this and now. 

——

Flashback #9

“It’s our last night together.” Cyra was cuddled in Viktor arms. 

“I got you a present.” He said quietly. 

He gently moved behind her, reaching for something in his gym bag. 

“Close your eyes please.” 

Cyra did as he asked, eyes closed firmly. 

“I never really gave you an answer on if I would go with you or not. I thought it over and yes I would love to go with you.” 

Cyra eyes popped open in shock, she turned to face him, “what did you say?”

“Your eyes are supposed to be closed.” 

“Forget the gift Vik, what did you say?”

He grinned at her, she would never get enough of this smile. 

“I said I want to go with you, my gift to you is my passport and my plane ticket.”

Out of an Manila envelope he pulled out his brand new passport and an online ticket for a flight to Atlanta, the same flight she was on. 

“Vik…”

“Yes?”

“Are you serious? Like this isn’t a joke.”

“I wouldn’t joke like this Cyra. I love you and I would miss you a lot, plus it’s time for me to go, I need to leave the nest.”

“Oh my god Ivan will kill me.” 

Viktor eyes turned dark in front of her, his eyes were so expressive. You could read them like a picture book. 

“I wouldn’t let any harm come to you.”

“I ment it like a figure of speech. But surly he is upset?”

“Yes, very much so. But it isn’t his choice, it’s mine. I can’t live my life for him and his goals.”

Cyra flung herself at him, looping her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. 

He threw the papers down and gently laid her down on the bed. Cyra legs wrapped around his torso, bringing him closer. 

Viktor was a passionate lover, his rough hands trailed under her shirt. Cyra gave a little whine when he detached from her lips, but quickly changed to a whimper when he kissed her neck. Viktor pulled her shirt off, throwing it to the side. 

-----

Viktor was done playing, he quickly hit his opponent with a 3 punch combo, two to the ribs and as he bent over a left hook that laid him out. 

He referee did his count, at the count of 10 the ref stood declaring Viktor the winner. The referee tried to do the traditional hold the boxer arms up thing, but Vikor quickly snatched away from his, running out the ring to get to his wife and child. 

Cyra ran into his arms, Viktor held her so close, hugging her tighter than he ment to. 

“Babe…” she squeaked out.

“Sorry, what are you doing here? You and Kazi should be getting check out.”

“We are fine, baby we are fine, not hurt at all.” 

They walked over to the barrier so she could grab Kazi, Viktor took him as soon as he crossed. Kazi never seen Viktor like this, he wasnt allowed to watch the fight, never come to the arena, and by the time Viktor got home he was already cleaned up, taped up, bruises covered. 

“Tata!!!!!” Somehow Kazi voice rose over all the cheers, boos, and talking of the crowd. 

Trey hopped the barrier, being the voice of reason, herding the family to the back, past all the eyes, the reporters, and other spectators. 

Behind closed door they broke down, until now Kazi hadn't seen her cry, but she could help it. The tears just flowed even thought she was smiling. Viktor had his nose in Kazi hair, pecking his forehead with kisses. 

“God I missed you two so much.”

“I wanna get down Tata.”

Kazi wiggled his way down, already more interested in the locker room more than his parents. Cyra hugged her husband once again, needing to feel his mass, even if he was sweaty. They stood there quiet and in an embrace, just happy to be reunited. 

There was a knock on the door and Trey got it, it was Viktor manger and trainer. She pulled away from his arms. 

“Congrats on the win baby, I am so proud of you.”

Viktor didnt let her move out of her arms, Kazi came over to hug his dad legs. 

“Let me get those gloves off Champ.” his trainer said. 

Viktor reluctantly let her go, and sat in one of the chairs, letting his trainer take off his gloves and the tape underneath it. 

“I cant wait to get home Vik, our home.”

“I know babe, me either.”

Cyra waited patiently while Viktor did his after fight routine, taking his gloves off, getting checked by a doctor, his eye was starting to swell and his ribs looked bruised. 

He declined to do his post fight interview rescheduling for two days later, he skipped his shower, getting dressed quickly. Viktor picked Kazi up, wincing at the pain he was in. As a family they left to go home.

Later that night…

Cyra couldn't sleep, she kept checking on Kazi just to make sure he was there, after her third trip she slid back into bed quietly, not wanting to wake Viktor.

“You dont have to keep checking on him, you guys are safe.” he said quietly. 

“I know, its just that I keep thinking this is all a dream.”

“Come here.” 

Cyra snuggled into his side, Viktor wrapped her arm around her, not caring about his own discomfort, to be close to her. 

“You know Ivan did this all, he was sill mad I left, left him, left my home.”

“You didnt leave home, you left him and built your own family and home. You have a happiness that he will never know.”

A tear rolled down Viktor cheek, “He could have hurt you two, I will never forgive him.”

“You dont have to we both know he is trash babe.”

“I love you so much Cyra, thank you for coming into my life, loving me, and having my son.”

“I love you to Vik, we are in this together until the end.”

Flashback #9

Viktor was overwhelmed, Cyra tried to prepare him for a new city, but he didnt expect this. they had landed at the busiest airport in America, Hartsfield Airport. 

The walk from the plane to the baggage claim took them underground into a train to be transported to the other side of the airport. Viktor tried not to take up to much pace, but he couldn't help it. At the curb they waited for Cyra brother, another thing for him to be nervous about.  

When a tall guy walked their way, he could tell it was Trey by the way she jumped to hug him. Introduction were made and Viktor helped load the bags, not saying much. 

He opened the door for her, catching Trey staring him down. 

“Ayy bruh you good, you being real quiet.” they pulled of into traffic. 

“Stop Trey, he isn't much of a talker.”

Heat flushed his cheeks, “I am fine, just soaking in the new scenery.”

Trey proceeded to put him through 21 questions and Viktor answered them in honesty. Every now and then, Cyra jumped in telling him he didnt have to answer anything. 

They stopped in front of a apartment building, Cyra seemed to be confused as to why. 

“Whats going on Trey.”

“Aight so check it, I did something for you and I hope you like it. Like I know you already got a job lined up but I didnt want you stressing about anything, so I found you a apartment and paid it up for 6 months.”

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Yeah, come on.” Cyra got out the car so fast, Vikor didnt have the time to open it for her. He followed behind the siblings, as they chatted. The apartment was on the first floor and Trey let them in, stepping back so Cyra could inspect it. 

Cyra grabbed Vikor hand, pulling him around the apartment, even small it was bigger than where him and Ivan home, old home he thought to himself. 

“Babe this is perfect.”

He nodded in agreement, he didnt care where he slept as long as Cyra was by his side. 

“This is our home now.”

“Yes, Home.” Viktor said. 

Kazi splashed in the tub, getting water everywhere, Cyra let him, not caring he was making a mess. 

Cyra had the news on in the background but wasnt paying attention to it at all. 

Broadcaster: Ivan Drago, the famous boxer and father of Viktor Drago was arrested approximate 72 hours ago, He had been indicated on charges of kidnapping, child endangerment, assault to just name a few. Ivan Drago along with 4 other people have not entered any plea agreement at this point. Reached out to Vikor Drago for a statement and was turned down by his management.

The End

[spellswisp]

why is reggie treated better in jughead (2015) than any other archie property i have consumed

hell, even in Reggie’s own comic (Reggie and Me one-shot series) run he’s treated poorly by the plotline. There’s been a few interviews I’ve read by Tom DeFalco, an Archie wrtier who has been around for awhile, where he calls Reggie “unpleasant”, a “villian” and a lot of other things. And while that can be true, he fails to dredge character and plot BEYOND Reggie being terrible. i quote “Reggie isn’t the nicest guy in Riverdale. We wanted his story told through sympathetic eyes and realized that his dog might be the only one who truly loves and accepts him.” Which I don’t think is a compelling reason, really. But okay so DeFalco believes no one else likes Reggie except his own dog. That’s where the Ryan North run of Jughead differs with their portrayal of characrers. Even Ryan North and Derek Charm, was drawing Reggie when he wasn’t working and it seemed like he was having fun, they seem to really LIKE reggie as a character. Reggie actually has friends in this and is treated as sympathetic? Reggie even still hasn’t lost his quality of being arrogant in this run. You can have negatives qualities, but they can be amusing or quirky or something… DeFalco claims he had to humanize Reggie through his dog because there was no other way - that’s not true obviously since we’ve seen it in Jughead. I feel like a lot of the new Archie lacks that element of comedy and fun ,so they use Reggie more of a stand-by antagonsit rather than anything close to what he was like in the original runs of the comics. Sure, he’s mean and obnoxious but that never stopped him from being Friends with the rest of the cast. He is part of the Core Five and I don’t know what happened to that. Actually, I do, but it’s a shame because you’re missing out on a great foil or letting someone else be the Straight man in a comedy duo for once. Also in, the current chief creative director of Archie Comics, Roberto Agurre Sacasa’s Life After Archie BS literally turns Reggie into a turn of sociopath for no good reason. And he makes Reggie sickly obsessed with Midge where he was willing to kill someone to get her reanimated corpse back. Sure, it’s a twist on the old Archie narrative but it’s one in poor taste. The sociopath / mental illness trope is constantly shoved in Roberto’s work. We see time and time again in Riverdale with Betty and Dilton and honestly I just think it’s an awful and insensitive part of his work. 

edit: in conclusion, a lot of it boils down to they dont want to make Reggie truly sympathetic and theres no development so he’s just a flat villian. Those can exist in narrative just fine, but I don’t think it was ever fair to turn REGGIE into that. He’s part of the Core Five, he’s not more enemy than a friend. He’s a frenemy and he’s Reggie’s rival. it doesn’t have to be this damn black and white. 

[erinbowbooks]

Writing Synopses, Prematurely Conjuring Demons, and Other Professional Hazards of Writing.

(This was to fun to leave as a six-year-old FB memory)  

For the purposes of grant (among other things) I'm working on a synopsis for my work in progress, Children of Peace.  (ETA 2017: later known as THE SCORPION RULES.)  

The Society of Children's Book Wrtiers and Illustrators has this to say about synposes written for their grant competition:

The synopsis may be only three sentences, but must not exceed 750 words. A 250-word/one-page synopsis is the professional norm, so please be succinct. In a synopsis there’s no need to give a blow-by-blow account of the action, but you need to present not only the beginning and middle but also the ending.

Wait, the ENDING?

How am I supposed to know the ending? I haven't gotten anywhere near the ending yet! It's something of a miracle that I know the middle. My usual process, after all, is to write the first third, get hopelessly stuck, despair, consider a job flipping burgers, wait a month, apply for said job, then one day drink lots of coffee, have a breakthrough, and pull an all-nighter writing a three or four page treatment for the remaining two thirds of the book. (Sometimes I am then required to re-write the first third.) And then I noodle along until I get to the ending, which falls flat and has to be changed entirely.  What do you mean that' s not a "process"? It's tried and true. I've finished three books this way.

So it was a miracle when, last week, stranded at an airport, I managed to write not only a new chapter, but an 800-word description of the middle and nearly-the-end of the book.  I got my characters into a lovely high-stakes tight-corner, where their beliefs are challenged and their lives are on the line.  I got them, in other words, to the cliffhanger.  But not to the ending.  

I have meet many writers, and they seem like nice people (not at all, as previously may have been mentioned, alien robots out to kill us all), who create an outline and follow it. How exactly they do this has always baffled me. But now I am supposed to be a professional writer. And professional writers have to write synopses. And synopses have to have endings.

Wait, an ENDING?

I know what you're saying, because you're not the first: Erin, just make something up. No one will sue if you change it. Make up something that sounds reasonably plausible, stick it in two sentences, brush off your hands, and walk away.

I know. I know. But, here's the thing … I'm afraid of writing down the wrong thing. I'm afraid if I write it it will become real. That it will fit itself into the ending spot in my imagination, and I won't be able to put anything else there. I'm afraid of it as might be afraid of saying the name of a demon while standing in front of a mirror. I might not believe in demons, really, but does it strike me as a good idea to test it? It does NOT.

I want to say loose, I want to stay open, I don't want to conjure something I'm not ready to cage. My magic chalk circle isn't drawn yet. I don't want to draw it yet. I want to stay vulnerable.

Yeah, I know, as professional hazards to, this doesn't really compare to say, black lung.  Let's keep some perspective.  (Wait, an ENDING?  Is it okay if I make my husband write it?  Maybe he wouldn't have to show it to me....) (ETA 2017: I wrote an ending for the synopsis.  I was wrong about the ending.  As I recall they disguise themselves as goat herders and make a stand in Saskatoon?)

[i-am-chandralynn]

Soar, Sister!

Believe it or not–I actually made a general plan of poems/poets to share on the blog this month. However, I can count on less than one hand the number of times I stuck to the plan. Today, my plan for sharing a longish poem by Nikky Finney transformed to sharing the shortish poem below by George Douglas Johnson (1880?-1966). Johnson was one of the writers featured in my [so-far-unfinished] Wom…