#look I have a history of rooting for female characters who know what they want and say it (without being a dick about it)

[amplexadversary]

"Why can't they let a girl marry three men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble?"

Ohhhhh I like the way Lucy thinks.

I know this is only the second time we've seen her but I agree that she deserves three husbands XD

[myownwholewildworld]

acta, non verba - i. a badge of honour

series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 2 pairing: conqueror!marcus acacius x ofc!reader. synopsis: scotland, 83 AD after the battle of mons graupius. the romans have come up to the boundaries of their empire with a relentless desire to conquer the savages that inhabit the highlands. they won't rest until the Caledonian tribes are subjugated. Marcus Acacius is in charge of your clansmen's fate, but if such fate is similar to your family's, you know you need to do something about it. as the only living daughter of the tribe chief, your people look to you for leadership. power plays, treason, deception, rebellion, war, love, heartbreak, betrayal. and two souls, destined to despise each other, trying to navigate it all. a/n: well, here it is! the first chapter of my new series, set in what is now scotland, during the romans' conquest of the british isles in the 1st century. hope you guys like it! as always, all interactions welcome. thank you so much for reading! <3 warnings: 18+, mdni. death, aftermath of a battle, burial of family members. reader is an original character - female, has a name (callie) and a physical description, family history, etc. i'll try to keep the references to a minimum though. age gap (callie is 26, marcus is 48). mention of infidelity and becoming a widow. marcus’ and reader’s pov. i have taken some historical licenses for ease of writing (use of "clan" as synonym for "tribe", references to irish/celtic gods, the caledonian people speak modern scottish gaelic instead of a (proto-)brittonic language). w/c: ~4.2k. dividers by @saradika-graphics i'll be tagging some people at the end of the chapter who interacted with this post. dw, i won't tag you in the next chapters unless you ask me to! also, if you want to be removed from this post, please send me a dm.

A light breeze whistled through the nearby standing stones. The dying sun provided no heat, and the ethereal landscape was cold with hues of blue and grey. Despite the shimmering wildlife that came with the first hints of spring, the meadow was uncannily silent.

The crows cackling in the distance broke such tranquil peace and woke you from your slumber.

Slowly you blinked, something wet and warm covering your eyelids. You felt it slide down your skin, pooling in the dip of your collarbone. Your limbs felt so heavy, you couldn’t lift a hand to rub your eyes clean. In fact, you were so tired that even taking a deep breath hurt.

Your orbs fluttered shut, shattered and defeated.

Dhuosnos, God of the Dead, was calling you to His side. His presence was soothing, so inviting, the most melodic sounds guiding you to Him. With the eyes of your dying imagination, He extended a welcoming hand towards you, a soft smile on His mythical features.

“Come with me, sweet child of the tribes.” A guttural voice escaped His lips, so dark and sombre it enveloped you.

You nodded, gaze down, submitted to Him.

“You can’t just take her, Dhuosnos. Callie is yet to avenge them — her purpose must be fulfilled first before she can greet you as an equal.” A second voice, feminine, otherworldly and reassuring, interrupted your exchange.

Morrígan, Goddess of War, placed Her hand on Dhuosnos’ forearm as to stop Him from reaching you. A stone of relief, but also of disappointment, sat low in your stomach when He took a step back, head bowed towards Her.

Steadily you undid your curtsy, your green eyes locking on Hers. They were black as the night sky, Her pupils and irises indistinguishable from one another. You looked into the abyss of Her sight and felt a deep-rooted longing, one you never experienced before.

“You are not done yet, mo leanabh (my child). Your people await your return.” Morrígan palmed your trembling hand, escorting you back to the earthly plane.

“But…”, you turned around to look at Her, ask for Her advice.

But She had already vanished, a sweet scent of lavander left behind.

You gasped awake, your eyes so widened, the cloudy, sunset sky above felt like it was crashing down on you. You were laying down on a pool of mud. A deep, raspy grunt escaped your lungs as you tried to move your arms. When you couldn’t, you looked down, confused.

Aengus’ lifeless body was resting on top of yours. Your father’s henchman had made the ultimate sacrifice by hiding you underneath him, away from the prying eyes of the Romans. The dense liquid caressing the skin on your face was none other than his blood. A trickle of thick red dripped from the gnarly wound in his neck on to your cheek. His eyes were staring at you emptily, his soul had already left this world when you regained consciousness.

Your father, Murdoch of Inbhir Nis, the Caledonian Overlord, had come to the aid of the Taexalian Overlord, whose territory was succumbing to the legions of Gnaeus Julius Agricola, a Roman governor with a high desire to impress his Emperor, Titus Flavius Domitianus.

Your father had gathered as many fighers as the Caledonian lands could give him. Both men and women were called to arms when the tribes were threatened. Being the daughter of the Chieftain would not spare you. You would not have chosen differently anyway, had you been given the opportunity. Fighting for land, clan and honour was your duty as much as your brothers’ and sister’s.

The journey from Inbhir Nis (Inverness) to Cala na Creige (Stonehaven) had been unforgiving, with illness and evil lying in wait. But you all had been warmly welcomed by the Taexali tribe and were fed copiously, the uisge-beatha (whisky) being served like water.

Your combined armies, shy of fifteen thousand folk, had been ambushed at Raedykes during a repositioning exercise by the Roman troops led by Agricola’s most trusted man.

General Marcus Acacius.

His mere name made you sick, anger crawling under your skin.

Fighting off your own opponents, you had seen the Roman General charge against your father like a beast, wielding a gladius over his head. The metallic impact of their swords rang loud across the landscape. The men looked into each other’s souls, an exchange of words shared between them. You were too far to listen, too far to fully see what was really happening as warriors from both sides danced through the grass.

Then you foresaw it before it happened: the heavy Roman sword fell on your father, who was struck to his knees with the General’s blade lodged in his belly.

You tried to get to him, screaming “Athair (father)!” at the top of your lungs. His eyes locked on yours before he fell sideways. You lunged forward but didn’t get to him, Aengus stopping you in your tracks.

“No, Callie, it’s too late now”, he had sorrowfully whispered in your ear before throwing you off to one side to fend off an attacker.

And then blackness swallowed you, an enemy hit you in the head so hard you lost consciousness.

That was how you came to be where you were — with your back flat on the silt and Aengus’ body blanketing yours. The grey sky above you sensed your pain, and, at Taranis’ command, it parted in the middle. The God of Thunder released a downpour to clean the blood, soot and woad’s blue dye off your face and hair.

You cried your sadness away, rainy tears sliding off the corners of your eyes — your anger, your loss, your torment, you purged it all, sobbing until you were devoid of all emotion. Taking a deep breath, which caused a needling pain on your ribs, you pushed Aengus to one side to free yourself from his weight.

The thudding sound he made almost brought more tears to your eyes.

“Sorry, uncail (uncle)”, you muttered, hovering your fingertips over his eyelids to shut them for him. Now he could finally rest.

You stood up, your knees trembling like a newborn calf. A searing pain stabbed your skull, dried blood and dirt gathering on the wound on your scalp. With a straight back, you dared to look around you. The bodies of your own men and women were scattered around the hills of Raedykes. So many lives lost, you heard all your ancestors screaming from above, their cries falling upon you in the way of rain. The green, long grass was reddened with blood, but the weeping sky had started to wash away the atrocities committed by the Romans.

Then you saw him. Your athair.

“No, no, please, no...”, you whispered as your sight became blurry again, dragging your feet towards the fallen body of your dad.

Your soul tried to tear itself apart, become its own entity. You had to summon the last drop of the royal blood that ran through your veins to keep yourself in one piece. You knelt before him, craddling his bloody hand between yours. Unconciously your body rocked back and forth until you hugged him, laying flat on top of him.

Time stood still, like a thread on the expert hands of a wool weaver. It could have been minutes, hours or days, your pain too great to bear, to comprehend.

And then you felt a hand lightly tap your shoulder.

You startled, your mind and body jumping back into survival mode, gripping your sgian-dubh (small knife) close to your chest.

“It’s okay, mo phiuthar (my sister). It’s me, Torcall”, a raspy, masculine voice forced you to focus on the man in front of you.

He was your father’s most important tacksman and also husband to your older sister Mairead — your sweet Maisie, as you always called her. She was the eldest of the four siblings while you were the youngest. Always so witty and quick with a joke, Maisie kept up the spirits even when the circumstances were dire — in fact, before your paths had parted during the battle, she jested about your H-shaped shield being larger than you.

When you turned around, Torcall flattened his hands on your shoulders, slightly shaking you so you would come back to reality.

His blue eyes pierced through you, the situation becoming clearer in your mind. Thousands of your tribesmen were dead. Your father too.

“Maisie?”, you asked in a hush. Your heart clenched when your brother-in-law shook his head no. You were afraid to speak, but you did nonetheless. “Aodh and Somhairle?”

Torcall stared at you, his silence speaking loudly. “They are all dead.”

The air evacuated your lungs, feeling as if a spear had run through you. Learning about the death of Maisie and your twin brothers broke something within you, something fundamental and primal. They were your everything, your most trusted confidants. Despite being of different ages, you all were so tight-knit it was difficult to find one of you alone.

A heart-shattering wail escaped your lips as you bent over yourself, your chest snug against your knees.

Morrígan had unashamedly claimed most of your family that day, except for your beautiful mother. Now Her words made sense: you were yet to avenge them, to fulfil your purpose. She had spared you for a reason, not so you could pity yourself, knees deep in the mud.

To avenge them, you had to kill the hand who showered this tragedy upon you.

General Marcus Acacius.

A raven’s strident, gurgling croak forced you to look up to the skies — a subtle reminder that Morrígan was watching closely. The massive bird was circling above your heads, like a vulture waiting to feast on a carcass. With resolution, you wiped away your tears, your sobs now silent, and nodded at Torcall.

“I understand. How many…?”, your voice faltered before you could finish your question.

“A couple of thousands. We have found cover in the Dunnottar Woods while we regroup and… bury our dead.” Torcall replied, his eyes averted with the last sentence.

You had lost a sister, but he had lost a wife, the mother to his now half-orphaned children. “I’m sorry”, you muttered, your lips pouting once more.

“She died fighting, the death of a warrior.” His proud voice did not waver. “And your father?”

Your heart wept at his mention but managed to control the anxious fluttering.

“The General killed him.” Your teeth gritted with hatred.

“Mo bana-phrionnsa (my princess)”, one of your father’s retinue members bowed his head to you once you walked into the circle they had formed in a meadow between the trees.

A few dozen men were scattered around the area, fires lighting the dark night while shades of red and orange flickered, creating fiery, dancing shades. You held a torch and carefully waved it in front of you, looking at the faces who watched you back eagerly.

You saw in your men what was brewing inside you: despair, defeat, sorrow. All your souls grieving in unison — all of you had lost someone that day.

At six and twenty, you did not expect to be in this position. You were the youngest daughter of the Overlord — you were never meant to lead your people. The task ahead of you felt titanic, unachievable.

But you had no other option. General Marcus Acacius had forced your hand.

He came, he saw, he conquered.

And now you had to deal with the gut-wrenching outcome of his departure.

“We’ll go back home to Inbhir Nis. But before that, we must give burial to our people.” You had to make a herculean effort to infuse your tone with steadiness.

Torcall first, and then the rest, bowed their heads to you.

“As you command, mo bana-phrionnsa”, he replied, and quickly barked orders around in your stead.

Your chest felt heavy with responsibility and grief. What pained you the most was not being able to carry your brothers and sister with you back home. They would not be buried under the cairns near you family home with the rest of your ancestors.

And what was worst — thousands of lives now depended on you. The weight of your tribe's destiny heavily rested on your shoulders now, like Atlas carrying the heavens.

Maisie, Aodh and Somhairle had been lined up on a patch of wildflowers that you had picked yourself the night prior — their arms were threaded together with your sister in the middle. Your clansmen had also surrounded the makeshift burial pit with wood to aid the combustion.

As you placed the last stone on top of them, you also deposited a bright, bloomed thistle. The flower that blossomed in every nook and cranny of your beautiful motherland, despite the harsh winter or conditions it faced. Like the phoenix rising from the ashes, it would always come back, stronger and more brightful than ever.

Devotion, bravery, determination, and strength — the thistle was a badge of honour for the Caledonians.

With a renewed brawn unbeknownst to you, you threw the lighted torch and watched as the fire consumed the bodies underneath the stones.

There were no tears left within you. Only purpose and resolution.

The way back to Inbhir Nis was tiring and soul-crushing. Hiking through the Cairngorms had been a difficult task with so many people behind you, but luckily you all managed to make it through without any losses.

With each mile covered, you saw the devastation left behind by the Romans. If this was any indication of what awaited ahead, you should start bracing yourself for what you would see. It seemed that the Romans were set towards the northwest — Inbhir Nis was right in their path.

You quickly recognised the landscape as you walked towards Loch Moy. A thick, dark column of smoke towered above the pine trees. Your heart raced as you picked up your dark green skirt and ran towards the loch, ignoring the calls of your brother-in-law.

You could run through those woods blindly — this was the land where you were born, the land you were named after. Your name was an unusual one — Caledonia, in honour of the earth beneath your rushing feet. Just a few people called you Callie, mainly your family and closest friends. With your bright, fiery red hair, green almond eyes and a face dotted with freckles, you were the epitome of your people. That was probably why when someone new learned your name, they always said it suited you.

Dodging the last few trees, you made it to the edge of the loch. In the shallows, the crannog of Naimh, your community’s healer, was burning down to its foundation. You covered your mouth with a sombre expression, your eyes itchy because of the dense smoke and unspent tears.

The Romans had gotten to your settlement before you did.

“Callie, wait up”, said Torcall behind you, struggling to catch up with you.

He halted right behind you, the silence between you was almost tangible.

“The rangers have returned from their reconnaissance mission.” His voice was plain, contained. You turned your heard towards him, slowly, hardening yourself for his next words. “Your mother is dead.”

The last glimmer of hope within you vanished. A single tear skidded through your cheek — angrily, you wiped it off.

You were alone in this world. Everyone you cared for had been taken from you.

“Is everything to your liking, Dominus (Master)?”, the male roman servant asked in a low hush, head bowed, eyes fixed on the cobblestone.

“Yes, now leave”, Marcus dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

The General looked around him with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. He was accustomed to much more elegant surroundings. Although the barbarians did try, their architecture was nothing in comparison to Rome’s.

The castle he was in was small and it only had two floors. It was mainly made of sturdy, grey rocks and dark wood. The design was not very sophisticated, all square and rugged edges. It had two towers and a barbican. The decoration inside was bare, with just enough furniture and no luxuries.

The only warmth was brought by the colourful tapestries adorning the cold, thick walls — one had caught Marcus' attention at his arrival when he first entered the dais. It told a story he had not heard before.

A dragon-like figure lurked beneath the rippling surface of a lake, attracting the attention of the villagers. At dusk it would emerge, a guttural sound echoing in the dead of night, as if it was calling another. Any bìrlinns (wooden vessel) left on the shore would appear destroyed the next morning. Fishermen were worried and called upon the town's druids, afraid of the Loch Ness monster. To appease the beast, every full moon, the druids would whorship the creature, bringing oblations and sacrificies to quench its thirst.

Marcus made a mental note of keeping his distance from that Loch Ness. As a devoted Roman, he was wary of the mystic creatures that skulked in the depths of human fear.

Although he missed his home, he had several debts to pay. The Emperor would not accept no for an answer, so he had to be a reluctant participant in this incursion — in fact, neither Domitian nor Agricola had really asked him to tame the highlanders up in Caledonia. They knew his skills would be most needed in combat, having been praised by bards and poets alike after his many years in the battlefield.

At eight and forty, Marcus Acacius had had his good share of tragedy and death, both personal and in war. His life had not been easy, having to forge a name of his own since childbirth and then having been recently betrayed by his own spouse.

The thought of Livia still angered him — she had had the audacity of blaming him for her infidelity, accusing him of always being away, of loving Rome more than his own family. Her cheating had been going on for as many years as their arranged marriage, throwing a doubtful shade on his paternity to both his children.

His life had come crumbling down in the last few months, so maybe coming to Britannia had not been such a bad idea. Female adultery was a crime penalised with death and that was a decision that Marcus had yet to make — outing Livia’s unfaithfulness would condemn her to Pluto's realm. Did he really want that for who had been his wife for more than thirty years?

Pinching the bridge of his hooked nose, Marcus walked towards the only window in the room. The roman took a deep breath and exhaled steadily — he needed to think of something else.

His mind went back to the battle of Mons Graupius. The spilling of blood never became easier with time — if anything, it had become harder, splintering his soul further. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear the piercing, pained shriek of a woman as he imparted death on Murdoch of Inbhir Nis.

Her hair was dyed with black soot and tied back, her face covered in a blue paste and ash. He was too far to catch the colour of her eyes, but he thought them dark azure. The fierceness of her expression took him aback, her voice shouting a word he did not recognise. But his eyes did not have time to linger on the feral woman a few yards away, because a savage attacked him.

His hand stilled on the rocky window’s sill. The barbarians called this place Inbhir Nis. The stone castle was that of the chief’s family, atop of a hill with views to the scenery underneath. It was rudimentary and lacked many commodities — nothing comparable to his villa in Rome. The tribal settlement was formed of huts made of stone, timber and hay.

Agricola had decided to burn down the outskirts of the town and killed the wife of the clan chief making a macabre example of her, so the people would submit to the Roman’s yoke quickly, crushing any opportunity of rebellion. The message was clear: Rome would not tolerate being challenged. Anyone who did, would face the most painful of deaths. The governor left to go northward, leaving Marcus behind to rebuild the area to Rome’s standards. The emperor had deemed the location an important enclave for his empire, being the main town in the Moray Firth.

Marcus was standing in what he thought was the bedchamber of Murdoch. With the Overlord and his family alienated, the primitive people of the highlands needed educating and he had been given the task of doing so. Not a welcomed one, but he had a duty to Rome that had to be fulfilled.

With a heavy sigh, he undid the brooch at the base of his neck, relieving himself of the heavy, white sagum (cape) that was part of his attire. He threw it on the uncomfortable bed. He unfastened the golden, laurel-shaped bracelets around his wrists, and then proceeded to undo the tight knots that held his armour in place.

Then a knock on the thick, wooden door broke the silence of the room.

“Come in”, thinking it would be his male servant, he didn’t turn around.

“Dominus, dinner is ready”, a very soft voice with a very marked accent made him look over his shoulder.

A pair of very bright, almond-shaped, emerald-green eyes locked on his, framed by what he would describe as fire hair — so red it looked like a hellish aura crowning your head.

So bright were your eyes, he almost felt his soul being examined by your hypnotising gaze. Marcus had never seen eyes like those.

How dared he stand where your father did? Anger shimmered under your skin, but you kept it in check. When you realised you were holding his gaze for longer than what was appropriate for a servant girl, you averted your eyes, inspecting the stones under your feet.

Torcall called you mad for doing this, but you had made up your mind. If you really wanted to overthrow the Roman General and win back your family’s castle and land, you would need to sew yourself into his everyday life. Gain his trust, learn his secrets and use that information against him. Your people were counting on you for freedom, and you would not allow yourself to disappoint them. Even if it was the last thing you did.

“Who are you?”, his raspy voice filled the atmosphere as he resumed the task of undoing the ties on his armour.

Did he have no shame, undressing himself in front of a maid? Mind you, you were not an innocent servant, having been widowed recently. But still. The romans had no modesty, you assumed.

You had to think quickly. You had learnt that the governor and the general both thought the whole chief’s family dead, so you could not out yourself. A very few, selected people called you Callie, almost always in the intimacy of your home, when strangers were not around. Your nickname was precious to you because it was only used by those you loved.

“My name is Callie, Dominus”, you offered your nickname in a rusty Latin. It had been a while since you had to use a language that was not your native one.

“Callie.” The way your name rolled off his tongue gave you goosebumps. You didn’t like the way he pronounced it — it lingered in his mouth for too long, dragging each letter. You wished your words back, but you couldn't change it now.

Instead of clenching your jaw, you nodded. “Yes, my lord, I’m one of the servant girls who tended to the clan chief’s family before you.” You explained, your head still bowed.

You ventured your eyes up for a second, catching a glimpse of his naked torso. Unconsciously, you pursed your lips. The way your heart pounded loud for that one second made you furrow your brows in confusion.

He might be a gorgeous man, but he was a killer. And you had no taste for soulless murderers, that much you knew about yourself.

“Call my attendant, Atticus, to help me get ready for supper. I have no need of you. And ask the kitchen staff to heat some water and bring it up here.” His tone was emphatic, unwavering.

His rejection, in other circumstances, would have been most welcomed, but you needed him to trust you, to confide in you so you could plot his demise — to destroy him. This was not a good start to your plan, but you needed to play the long game.

“I could certainly help you with a bath now, Dominus, but your wish is my command.” You forced the words out, when in reality you wanted to spit them to his murderous face.

He just nodded in your direction, his movements stiff and measured. “Just my attendant will suffice, now go.”

With your fingers laced on your back, you curtsied, walking backwards towards the door of your father’s bedchamber. You could not seem too eager, or he would become suspicious.

When you were in the corridor with the door closed behind you, you took a deep breath and straightened your back.

You would not take no for an answer. Marcus Acacius would yield to you, whatever the cost.

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[lookingforhappy]

The Birth Locations/Suitcase Reveal Sucks

before you read please don't take this too seriously, I don't have a problem with people who enjoy this reveal I just wish more people would consider/analyse this as I feel like it's very half-assed and not at all well thought out

I know I've written something like this before and i'm sorry to write this again, but I think my arguments have developed and I want to explain better why I hate this decision.

I am referring to this set of posters for season 3

as the stickers on the suitcases were revealed to be their birth locations by Jeff King (executive producer and director) on instagram

the actual answer to his question is "lila's sticker" but semantics/specifics who cares (me)

why I distrust the theory/trivia as a whole

something I think should be considered here is that this is the only confirmation of this piece of trivia.

another example of TUA trivia that has been confirmed by the creators is the statement by Blackman (god ik just ignore that part for now, that isnt the point of the post & he's still a/the creator) on a reddit AMA that Grace helped the siblings choose their names based on their birth countries

however, these are both poorly researched/prepared pieces of trivia because they blatantly contradict each other

Luther's birthplace is Sweden, but Luther isn't a Swedish name, nor was is popular in either 1989 when he was born or 2002 when he was first seen using his name.

Diego is always a fairly popular name in Spanish speaking countries like Mexico but it's hardly high on the list (only statistic I can find is ranked at 31.)

Allison is neither a South African name nor is it listed as it's top names.

Klaus is Germanic (kinda fits the theme) but as far as I can see Klaus is not a biblical name which is much more typical of the Amish. Klaus is also not listed amongst the top Amish names that I've seen.

Five obviously is an outlier here.

Ben is clearly not Korean, and while I have had fun discussing the roots of his name with others (Jae-min becoming Benjamin, and Bin becoming Ben) I don't think that there's any way that the creators will acknowledge this. Ben has origins in Hebrew and is not at all popular in Korea.

Vanya (the applicable name, as Viktor wasn't yet revealed) is a male name in Russia. it's female in other countries like Bulgaria, but not Russia. It's a nickname/evolution of the name Ivan. Vanya is also not a popular name in Russia, but Ivan does seem to be. And I seriously doubt that they're going to reveal that Viktor originally named himself Ivan while he was identifying as female and then decided to change his name anyway?

which is to say, the word of the creator cannot always be trusted/believed, because that's not necessarily what will be reflected in canon or by the other creators.

there is quite a history in fandom of creators not understanding the themes/plotholes of their own creations, so i'm a little stunned at how quickly everyone integrated this into their canon without a second thought.

i have arugments as to why these locations are bad choices for the characters, but first lets take a look at what i believe these stickers were meant to represent

Placing down a read more because this became huge.

what the other stickers reference/mean

it's no secret that i think the stickers were hints to the events (related to each character's arc) of season 3.

but before i get to that let's breakdown the rest of the stickers and their meanings:

all of the umbrella's have an umbrella sticker. Lila is the only one who doesn't (so if we're playing the "who is the odd one out" game then it still falls as Lila because she is the only one without the umbrella sticker)

Luther

Luther dies in Hotel Obsidian, and never makes it physically inside Oblivion or has any part in powering it - so his sticker has the colours/design of Obsidian.

Diego

Diego is one of/the first to discover Hotel Oblivion, so he has the Oblivion colours and logo.

Allison

Allison is involved in Reginald's plot to use Oblivion to reset thte universe, so gets Oblivion's logo instead of Obsidian.

Klaus

Klaus was the one to know and direct them to Hotel Obsidian, so he has that logo.

Five

Five's revelation that he was the Founder of the Commission, and the impact of that discovery, links him to the Commission more so than either hotel.

Viktor

viktor has the hotel Obsidian logo because he has very little impact on anything to do with Oblivion and is one of the votes that decides to remain and die in Obsidian.

Lila

Lila has the Commission because she was raised in the Commission, not the Umbrella Academy.

Lila has the Obsidian logo in opposition to Diego's Oblivion logo as she chooses the opposite of Diego (I personally believe they should have swapped these two but..)

why the birth locations are more likely/appropriate as hints for the events of season 3

Luther - Stockholm, Sweden

This is probably my strongest argument: He is made fun of for having "Stockholm Syndrome" within the show

found: Season 3, episode 3, minute 13.

Luther, obviously spends all of his character development/moments with the Sparrows and Sloane - being kidnapped by them and developing "Stockholm Syndrome" for Sloane (romantic) and for the Sparrows as a whole (platonic/idealism/escapism)

Luther's mother's newpaper cutting also mentions 911 being called, but 911 is not the emergency number of Sweden, 112 is. Argentina, Canada, Dominican Republic, Jordan, Mexico, Pakistan, Palau, Panama, the Philippines, Sint Maarten, the United States, and Uruguay use 911 but not Sweden.

If Monica wasn't in Sweden at the time of Luther's birth, then Stockholm is hardly his birth location.

throughout the seasons we get a few instances of Diego, Ben and Viktor speaking their native languages, hinting that the 7 were all taught their mother's languages (with Allison at least likely learning all 7)

But if Luther is Swedish, why didn't he or Diego know what Oga For Oga meant if that's Luther's mother's language? and why was Five the only person who seemed to understand Swedish when he's not the Swede of the family? Why did Diego not at least recognise his brother's supposed second language? Or Luther for that matter?

Luther was a part of the Academy for 23+ years, longer than anyone, yet Reginald (who expects the best of his children) didn't bother enforcing this as a part of his education? his number one had a worse education than his number 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7?

Diego - Mexico

Diego apparently doesn't even get the luxury of a city, place or region. But I can confirm that his mother's newspaper cutting states that he was born in a "small town in Northern Mexico".

However, Diego's sticker could instead be a reference to the Aztecs or Mayans - his sticker has mayan/aztec pyramids on it, I believe maybe Chichen Itza specifically?? Ancient civilisations that were very advanced for their time, and that are somewhat frequently involved in alien conspiracies.

Diego is one the one to open Oblivion when he removes the harpoon, and is the first to enter it and confront the Guardians.

Oblivion is an Ancient building/place built by an Ancient civilisation of what is assumed to be aliens, and Reginald (confirmed alien) is the one to have directed them into Oblivion at first as well.

Allison - Cape Town, South Africa

Nelson Mandela is pretty famous for his part in the anti-apartheid (segregation) movement, helping to end segregation in South Africa. He was jailed in a Cape Town prison for attempting to sabotage the pro-segregation government, and then later his office as president was located in Cape Town.

an easy connection to make with Allison's arc in season 2, and the significance of it in her arc in season 3, with her dealing with PTSD, grief over Ray, and feeling alienated by her family who didn't have the same experience as her in the 60s.

Allson's mother has nothing connecting her to South Africa outside of this, as far as I'm aware.

Klaus - Pennsylvania, USA

This one I will concede is about his birth location. But in this case, it's also heavily related to his season 3 arc, as he is the driving force of the mothers plotline and literally travels to Pennsylvania.

PA is a strong and relevant hint for his s3 arc.

Five - Dublin, Ireland

Five could be connected to Ireland in multiple ways.

(there is a link between Five and JFK, "the 1st Irish American President" but I can't see the link to s3 here so honorary mention only).

A link that I understand is a somewhat touchy topic for any Irish citizens is the stereotype of drunkeness in Ireland. While there have been studies to prove that Ireland doesn't drink more than other countries such as England, it remains a well-known stereotype and the Irish people are statistically more prone to alcohol dependency/addiction.

There is also the phrase "make it Irish" which means to put alcohol in a drink, one of the more popular drinks to do this to is coffee. Which brings us back to Five - he is known for his love of coffee and for getting spectacularly drunk.

season 3 in particular features his drinking addiction in it's full glory. it's also plot relevant as his drunkness causes the murder mystery setup of the final episodes.

(also, while it's not great to have Ireland be the hint to alcohol, it's also not great to have Five, the alcoholic of the series, be the Irish representation)

Another interpretation could be the root of the name "Dublin" meaning "black pool". It was likely derived from the River Poddle which would have been stained black with peat. This could be a hint towards Five's elusive role as the Founder, as his life so far has been stained with childhood abuse, the apocalypse and his foray as an assassin, making the reveal of the Founder a shock.

One other interpretation is the Irish vs. English. Five is perhaps the most skeptical of Reginald throughout season 3, moreso than even Luther or Diego. While England has enraged many countries, Ireland is one of the most well known for it's dislike of the English, and has a lengthy history of war and altercations with England. So Five's sticker may be a hint for his re-ignited distrust of Reginald. It also works well as a predictor for Five and Lila's (English) bathroom fight.

Five's mother's newpaper cutting has several contradictions to the Ireland, Dublin location. First and foremost being that she is cited as being from both a "small seaside community" and from "county clark".

There is no County Clark in Ireland, but there is a County Clare and a County Cork. However, County Clare is on the opposite side of Ireland to Dublin and County Cork is even farther away,

Dublin, as the Capital City, is also not a "small seaside community" by any stretch of the imagination.

And the Irish police would likely not be referred to as "provincial" but instead be called Gardaí or The Garda Síochána.

Viktor - Moscow, Russia

Moscow is seen in season 1, episode 1 very briefly as Reginald arrives to adopt Viktor. You can see both the Spasskaya Tower and St Basil's Cathedral. Viktor also speaks Russian, something that none of his siblings have demonstrated.

However, this is not actually Viktor's birthplace (if we believe that the props have canon information, as most argue that Diego is definately from Mexico due to his cutting stating his mother was in Northern Mexico, etc) as according to his book Viktor was born in "small town off the Southern coast of Russia".

Moscow is nowhere near the coast and is not exactly southern either, nor is it a small town. And while this isn't exaclty specified that the "small town" he visits is the place he was born, it wouldn't make much sense if it wasn't, as Viktor was able to track his mother down via newspaper articles about his birth.

Moscow could mean a lot of things for Viktor's arc:

it could be a reference to s1, ep1 but instead of his exact birth location, it could simply hint to his mother's country and toward Harlan's involvement in the mothers' deaths - and the long reach of his powers from America to Russia.

It could also be a hint to Viktor's significance as a much more involved and aware plot driver this season as Moscow is the politcal centre of Russia as its capital city.

It might also hint at his disconnect from his family (not being a part of the Academy and not understanding the hard decisions and necessary teamwork that come with it) causing tensions, as while Moscow is the political capital, Saint Petersburg is considered the cultural capital.

Plus Moscow's history as the capital works well as a parallel to his journey with his powers, and works as a hint to Viktor developing his powers with Harlan because Moscow also briefly lost its status as the capital to Saint Petersburg, possibly a parallel to Viktor, the most powerful of the Umbrellas, losing his powers to Reginald's drugs. Moscow was later restored as the capital, paralleling Viktor's regaining of his powers.

Lila - Berlin

Lila is nice and simple, she was considered the outlier by Jeff King anyway as her suitcase doesn't match her confirmed birth place (London), and instead is a pretty obvious hint to her time in West Berlin, Germany, with Trudy and Stan.

why i dislike the chosen locations as the birth locations

in general I think it's silly to choose almost all capital cities: Dublin, Moscow, Cape Town, Stockholm, Seoul..

I know these are populous places but there must have been some variation? (aside from Klaus, who has plot armour for this point due to his Amish origins, and Diego, who is the only non-capital city purely because he wasn't given the dignity of a named city/town/village)

it's also lazy writing (and i believe somewhat racist?) to have every sibling come from the country/continent you'd expect?

the latino is mexican

the black woman is african

the asian man is asian

the blonde haired/blue eyed man is scandinavian

even Klaus, Five and Viktor are all white men from predominantly white countries.

at least try to subvert expectations?

to an extent i understand that they were trying to incorporate the actors ethnicities with Justin having korean roots, and David being raised in mexico. But the only irish thing about Aidan is his surname, and Emmy has no known connection to South Africa. I'm also pretty sure Tom isn't swedish at all and Elliot isn't russian.

it's lazy, poorly planned and honestly highly questionable writing at best

[salarta]

Posted this elsewhere, posting here too.

There's a definite trend within official Marvel and X-Men product of liking things that Lorna's had, but feeling she doesn't deserve them and handing them off to "more deserving" characters.

At its core, the problem starts with Lorna's very first issues getting immediately undermined. She was introduced as a more feminist type of woman compared to how Jean was written at the time. Even while she was presented as Magneto's daughter, the emphasis was on how powerful and dangerous she could be in her own right. She was called things like "M-II" and Queen of Mutants specifically for that reason. As someone who was seen as capable of taking on her father's mantle.

But then editorial didn't like that. So daring to be the first powerful feminist woman character led to her being punished for it not just by severing the Magneto connection, but by gradually turning her into a clingy damsel in distress girlfriend for Havok.

She paved the way for other female characters - Jean, Storm, etc - to have more accepting treatment. And elements of how Lorna was originally introduced went to those other characters over time, while Lorna herself was treated like she was worthless and only good for the sad tropes forced on her by sexism.

Claremont had an opportunity to fix that. He didn't. Instead, doubled down on the idea of Lorna being that clingy damsel, AND in the process of trying to turn her into an entirely different character, literally had Zaladane steal her powers. In short, he didn't think Lorna was deserving of those powers, and felt Zaladane was more deserving while Lorna should be reduced to a combo of old tired powers and a hate bullseye thing that was literally just an excuse for Claremont to write everyone wanting to abuse her and Lorna nonsensically acting like she deserved it.

At one point, we had Lorna's flinging Krakoa into space from Giant-Size X-Men #1 falsely attributed to Jean. Whether it was accidental or deliberate, I don't know. Doesn't change that a big moment for Lorna was claimed to be something done by a "more deserving" character.

Then we have all the Magnus family stuff from Children's Crusade to shortly after the Magnus family retcon on the twins. We had a House of M portrait redrawn to replace Lorna with a rando character. We had Enchantress getting played up as Wanda's visual counterpart, not simply a matter of history and personalities, but in the sense of trying to make Enchantress look more like Lorna (including a variant cover that recolored her hair green). Post-Axis, we had the attempt to replace Lorna with Luminous as the twins' "sister."

And now, we had Jordan White trying to make Kitty/Kate Pryde the focus for Genosha storylines toward the end of Krakoa, while bending over backwards to act like Lorna has no connection to Genosha at all. And the X-Men 97 cartoon, where Lorna was completely left out of the whole story of the Genoshan genocide and gave all elements of it to Rogue because Beau DeMayo doesn't respect Lorna outside of being Havok's girlfriend on 90s X-Factor.

The bottom line is, Lorna getting screwed over like this isn't new. People working on Marvel stuff seem to love the idea that key elements of who she is and her history should go to other characters that they like more. When fans of X-Men 97 or other characters act like it's no big deal, what they're really saying is they also don't value Lorna, and think it's appropriate to treat her poorly and perpetuate this cycle that has its roots in sexist punishment of the first female character who stood out with a more feminist approach to her.

[queen-paladin]

March 2024 Reading Wrap Up!

Hiya guys, since I have been on a book reading craze lately (I want to read 30 books before I turn 30 and am now on 13 in March, which says something). I enjoy Goodreads, but little to no people read my reviews. My most popular one on Goodreads has *drumroll* six likes *confetti*. And I have a lot of feelings and thoughts and nowhere to express them...so why not here!

That being said...Books I have read in March of 2024! Better late then never!

What I read and my own personal, take it with a grain of salt thoughts on them below:

Caraval by Stephanie Garber

(YA Fantasy)

Summary:

Scarlett Dragna has never left the tiny island where she and her sister, Tella, live with their powerful, and cruel, father. Now Scarlett’s father has arranged a marriage for her, and Scarlett thinks her dreams of seeing Caraval—the faraway, once-a-year performance where the audience participates in the show—are over. But this year, Scarlett’s long-dreamt-of invitation finally arrives. With the help of a mysterious sailor, Tella whisks Scarlett away to the show. Only, as soon as they arrive, Tella is kidnapped by Caraval’s mastermind organizer, Legend. It turns out that this season’s Caraval revolves around Tella, and whoever finds her first is the winner.

I am usually not the type to stay up late reading because I have to know what's going to happen. I usually set the book down and tuck in bedtime.

This book was an exception.

I was on the edge of my seat, forgetting the time and hour, wanting to read just one more page because I had to know what would happen. The pacing was just right, the world was beautiful and dangerous, and I enjoyed the characters. Scarlett was a breath of fresh air in a genre notorious for internal misogyny in it's female protagonists. Timid and Proper and Responsible, but grows on her own and learns to take initiative.

The environment was very reminiscent of the Night Circus, imagine like, if the Night Circus was a town built on illusions, and you have Caraval. But the Night Circus, rereading it as an adult, had an insufferable MMC who has a girlfriend who sacrifices so much for him, then the MMC who cheats on his girlfriend for the FMC, and then when the girlfriend has the truth confirmed to her, she gets upset and briefly lashes out, the writing then frames her as An Evil Woman Scorned for doing so (which is...yikes) Justice for Isobel Martin. She should have done a full Carrie White style Everyone Dies rampage and I would have rooted her on the whole time.

There's none of that crap here! We have a lovely romance between Scarlett and Julian full of all sorts of wonderful, chemistry-building moments.

But what got me was the story- the various twists and turns kept me on the edge of my seat, gasping and clinging. I was captivated. Entranced by it's spell. This is a roller coaster of a book, so just hold on and enjoy the ride. I am so glad I read this book, it gave me a feeling and experience I hadn't had with a book in ages, one where I had to stay up late, because I had to read what would happen next.

5/5

The Unlovely Bride by Alice Coldbreath

(Romance, Historic, Fantasy)

Summary: Lenora Montmayne leads a charmed life as the most beautiful woman at King Wymer’s court, surrounded by admirers. And then disaster strikes. The red pox sweeps the summer palace at Caer-Lyones and Lenora’s fair face falls victim to its ravages. Without her looks, what does Lenora have left to her?

If ever there was a knight the crowd loves to hate, it’s Garman Orde. Even his own family despises him. Then one night a heavily veiled lady offers him an extraordinary bargain. And he finds out that Lenora Montmayne was never just a pretty face.

Review: Any marriage of convenience story I will read, and I will devour it. I've been looking forward to this book for a while, and I do love the premise. And most of all, I love the setting! This lovely world that is part medieval England part not because fuck it, it's not history, just the vibes. And I LOVE our female protagonist. Leonora relied on her looks and nothing else for years to get by, and now that they are gone, she relies on her own person. She loves kitty cats, she believes in prophecies and fortune-telling but is smart, pragmatic, and determined. She and Garman have a nice romance with some great lines and moments (and some nice spice). My complaint is that while the first half is amazing, the second half kind of drags, and not much happens, it could have used more tension, more stakes, and more plot. I may read another Coldbreath book sometime, just because I love the world of Karadok, but I'm not sure.

3.75/5

Medea by Eilish Quin

(Historic, Fantasy)

Summary: The daughter of a sea nymph and the granddaughter of a Titan, Medea is a paradox. She is at once rendered compelling by virtue of the divinity that flows through her bloodline and made powerless by the fact of her being a woman. As a child, she intuitively submerges herself in witchcraft and sorcery, but soon finds it may not be a match for the prophecies that hang over her entire family like a shroud.

As Medea comes into her own as a woman and a witch, she also faces the arrival of the hero Jason, preordained by the gods to be not only her husband, but also her lifeline to escape her isolated existence. Medea travels the treacherous seas with the Argonauts, battles demons she had never conceived of, and falls in love with the man who may ultimately be her downfall.

Review: Ok, ok, I have so many feelings about this. I was...sadly disappointed by this book. Medea is probably my personal favorite of the Ancient Greek Women, if not, my favorite of the spicier, more controversial, morally grey ones (Hera, Circe, Medusa, Clytemnestra, etc)

But, my biggest issue with this book, and it's big, is that I don't believe there is a love story between Medea and Jason. The writer makes him unlikable from the get-go, to where he has numerous Kick The Dog (tm) moments like physically abusing Medea and killing one of Pelleas's daughters when she won't stop crying. Medea herself doesn't justify them, and she keeps thinking of "eh, he's sometimes kind of good-looking, but he's okay."

Like, Medea in this book, after meeting Jason, she flat out tells her brother that he is the man she loves the most in her life (which...YIKES for the implications. But in order for any Medea story to work, I HAVE to believe she is madly, desperately in love with Jason. There's no oath where Jason swears before the gods to stay with her, so then there's no hurt. She kind of has to marry Jason to preserve her honor according to Aunt Circe, but not out of love. Since there's no romantic chemistry, the sacrifices Medea takes make more sense and the betrayal hurts even more so then when she does what she does in Corinth, she is extremely sympathetic at least in the beginning.

Like, she has a moment after Jason revealed he cheated on her and is leaving her for Glauce and she goes "oh, poor Glauce is a victim like me." Which begs the question for this version- why doesn't she just kill Jason himself? She calls Glauce a poor baby victim, she kills Glauce, not Jason. If she loved Jason that much, then she would hate him more, and killing Glauce would make more sense. She wants to watch Jason suffer.

Also, I feel like Eilsha Quinn is a bit afraid of the moral nuances of Medea. She has her "I didn't really MEAN to!" moments and there is one character she kills who she then re-animates (like she re-animates her brother, so oopsie Daisy, she's actually not a kinslayer! And he just...vibes with them as the third wheel lives with them, and helps look after the kids. This makes it less tragic because A) She's not a murderer who risked and left everything for him, she's more "perfect" and not as flawed, and B) when Jason betrays her, she's less alone and has an immediate support system there in her brother). And the kid- killing she does to trick Jason and then she re-animates them later, or tries, to but no, that failed and they're dead dead, whoops. Even if Medea purposely killing the kids was the invention of Euripides, I want to believe Medea is capable of purposely, intentionally doing some violent, controversial things and this seems to be afraid of her spice, her teeth.

The writing is pretty, and I liked the beginning with learning about her childhood, but this was a letdown.

I did order Hewlitt's book of Medea, which is higher ranked on Goodreads so my hope is higher for that one.

3/5

Divine Rivals by Rebecca Ross

(YA, Fantasy, Romance)

Summary:

After centuries of sleep, the gods are warring again. But eighteen-year-old Iris Winnow just wants to hold her family together. Her mother is suffering from addiction and her brother is missing from the front lines. Her best bet is to win the columnist promotion at the Oath Gazette.

To combat her worries, Iris writes letters to her brother and slips them beneath her wardrobe door, where they vanish—into the hands of Roman Kitt, her cold and handsome rival at the paper. When he anonymously writes Iris back, the two of them forge a connection that will follow Iris all the way to the front lines of battle: for her brother, the fate of mankind, and love.

Review: This book was utterly beautiful, breathtaking, and heartbreaking all at once and yet uplifting and then it breaks your heart again. The world is simple and lovely. It's a mix of World War One/two aesthetics with a fantasy setting. It's basically You Got Mail but fantasy and more focus on the drama then the comedy.

The romance is lovely, there is such a beautiful love story between Roman and Iris as they sort out their feelings, reveal their secrets, doubts, failures, grief, and insecurities, and learn more about where they fall for each other. Plus, the twists and turns were a lot of fun and the pacing was just right.

I have no faults or complaints, this was just a lovely, lovely book and I look forward to the sequel because THAT was quite a note to end on!

5/5

Legendborn by Tracy Deonn

Summary: After her mother dies in an accident, sixteen-year-old Bree Matthews wants nothing to do with her family memories or childhood home. A residential program for bright high schoolers at UNC–Chapel Hill seems like the perfect escape—until Bree witnesses a magical attack her very first night on campus.

A flying demon feeding on human energies.

A secret society of so called “Legendborn” students that hunt the creatures down.

And a mysterious teenage mage who calls himself a “Merlin” and who attempts—and fails—to wipe Bree’s memory of everything she saw.

The mage’s failure unlocks Bree’s own unique magic and a buried memory with a hidden connection: the night her mother died, another Merlin was at the hospital. Now that Bree knows there’s more to her mother’s death than what’s on the police report, she’ll do whatever it takes to find out the truth, even if that means infiltrating the Legendborn as one of their initiates.

She recruits Nick, a self-exiled Legendborn with his own grudge against the group, and their reluctant partnership pulls them deeper into the society’s secrets—and closer to each other. But when the Legendborn reveal themselves as the descendants of King Arthur’s knights and explain that a magical war is coming, Bree has to decide how far she’ll go for the truth and whether she should use her magic to take the society down—or join the fight.

Reveiw: This is such a hyped, beloved, popular book that is so many people's baby and favorite series and it...it was okay.

It wasn't bad.

But I didn't find it phenomenal, amazing, spectacular, life chagning.

It was good. It was okay.

I honestly got extremely tired of trying to learn how the over-complicated Arthurian society worked. It's explained in a super info-dumpy way that the characters get, but I don't. And the pacing was way too slow, I feel like it needed to shave off a good hundred pages, or fifty, perhaps.

I do enjoy the main girl, Bree, alright. She doesn't take bullshit, but has moments of vulnerability. As well as exploring race, grief, family history and the scenes with root magic were amazing. The beginning was fantastically done, it was the middle part where it peterred off for me.

But the rest of it, not gonna lie, was kind of...eh.

And, ngl, I am more Team Nick. Sel is a giant jerk who treats her like garbage, yet people root for them and want them to be together, and I'm like....??????? why? At least Nick, white saviory as he can be, is trying and cares for her and affirms and appreciates her strength.

I respect that this is so many people's favorite book and that it speaks to them and moves them. But for me, if none of these people made any content around this book and said nothing, based off of my opinion independent of others, if you plopped this book on my lap and said nothing about the hype about it...I'd still say it was just okay. That might be my controversial hot take, but it's just what my personal experience was from this book.

3/5

Currently Reading: The Time I Got Drunk and Saved a Demon by Lemming, The Death of Jane Lawrence by Starling, Emily Wilde's Encyclopedia of Fairies by Fawcett, and Twisted Love by Ana Huang.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Now that I’ve seen the move...

I’m reading so many hot takes on Twitter regarding Talokan fighting with Wakanda. The worst are people saying Shuri isn’t good enough to be BP because she doesn’t have the skills... completely forgetting she made all the suits/tech, fought alongside the soldiers and her brother, and guided a shitty CIA op to help them in the middle of fighting during the last move. Fuck outta here. Shuri held her own. That mantle belonged to her.

Spoilers ahead...

The other take I found funny (and ignorant to the reality of the WF worldbuilding) was folks mad that Wakandans were getting their ass beat by Namor’s people. #1 Namor told them people he had more Talokanil than Wakanda had blades of grass, and #2, imagine an entire nation filled with the properties of the heart-shaped herb in their DNA. Every Talokanil has the strength and healing powers of the BP, and only the BP is blessed with that compared to regular Wakandans. So unless Shuri is going to mass produce 3D printed herb for everyone in her nation, the Wakandans were going to get washed fighting Namor and ‘nem.

For my own two cents, I ain’t mad at Namor for doing what he said he was going to do to protect his people. This man saw first hand how colonizers act. Witnessed the brutal changes in real time for 500 years. He is not going to fuck around with Wakandans who have lived secure in a bubble all their lives. The climate, oceans, and marine life are already suffering due to colonizers neglectful/selfish behavior, so of course he’s going to come hard to keep his people hidden and keep white folks from getting his vibranium deposit. He held out an olive branch with centuries of experience backing him as a ruler of his people. Ramonda messed up by not heeding his warning. She of all people already knew how these white folks were acting with her (that whole UN scene showed the treachery of the French and their American ally--The CIA). For her to not recognize a powerful ally to keep her own people safe too was a political and tactical error on her part. You got through a technologically advanced nation’s security system? Bay-bee, we about to sit down and talk in a diplomatic way first.

Namor had every right to clap back even if that meant taking out Wakanda first, (Ramonda included). Sucks for Wakanda and Shuri, but again, this is a man who has lived through the worst of white nonsense (unlike Wakanda whose only bad thing ever experienced was T’Chaka being killed). He knows where it will lead if they are discovered again because history backs him up. An old head is not about to have a repeat of these bitches coming for their people and resources once more. Shuri recognized that when she asked to go to Talokan (she wasn’t kidnapped, RiRi was.) Namor heard her talking to her mother before, that’s why he was willing to allow her into Talokan... the only surface dweller to ever go there.  

Now I’m not a fan of fridging characters to motivate other characters to act on something or grow their arc (especially if the character is male and the fridged is female--an old tired trope), but I decided to let Ryan Coogler tell the story he wanted to tell because of all the stuff he went through with the cast to get this film made. I hope people don’t lose track that White supremacy/White Imperialism/Capitalist bullshit is the root cause of everything in that movie. Ross and his people being the main villains. (Ross will stay on the hook because he knows what the CIA is all about and he perpetuates their violence with a milqtueoast appearance making people think he is a cute/nice ally. He isn’t. He represents the White Supremacist machine fully. Any dude once married to Val is just like her. Some of the most racist people (co-workers) I have ever met were nice, helpful, and pleasant-looking, but did horrendous non-violent things to perpetuate white supremacy when no one was looking.

People can go back and forth all they want about whether Ramonda sacrificed herself, or Namor killed her. I mean, both things can be true. He caused the water sinkhole she jumped into to save RiRi where she drowned. We can also argue that Nakia didn’t have to kill those two women in Talokan even though she was there to save two other women, but she did what she needed to do in that moment to protect a loved one. Again, white supremacy and the white military industrial complex started all this shit. They used a Black girl genius’s invention in the hopes of extracting a resource they would use to exploit Black and Brown folks globally. Namor came back to tap that ass. I can’t be mad at him too much. War sucks for everyone. He said what he said. Ramonda dismissed it.

Of course, my thoughts are based on a one time viewing of the film. I saw the first one 7 times (might’ve been 8, lol!), so I may have to do more viewings later as things I missed the first time will come to my attention. Heck, I may change my mind on some things later. For now, whew...the takes are all over the place regarding Shuri.

[darrisgrove]

The Windeby Puzzle by Lois Lowry REVIEW

1/5 Stars ⭐

I would like to point out that this book is a historical fiction. Several parts of the book include snippets of history of the Windeby bog child and recounts of history of the time from Tacitus explaining cultural rituals surrounding the bog. While these recounts from Tacitus were true, my main critique lies in the painful misrepresentation of ancient Germanic tribal culture surrounding women's rights.

It is okay to have a strong female character to represent the girls reading this book. I quite enjoyed reading Estrild's story and was rooting for her, but we all know how her story ended so there's not much we could have done about that. The story itself was fine. What I did not find "fine" was the incorrect history that Lowry held onto with a death grip. Pre-Christian pagan history finds that women were highly respected and equal to men. We find Goddesses, deities of strong women such as the Morrigan, Danu, Athena, Hecate, Freyja, and Hel. There are legends of strong women such as the Valkyrie and Scathach. What baffled me the most was the incessant depiction of only male druids. It really, to me, seemed like the author's only source of druid history and depiction came from popular media, which wraps the druids around a mysterious aura, dark robed and hooded men, slaughtering animals and reading their innards for omens, and MEN. Women in druidic history could be druids just as equally as men. To have read Tacitus' accounts on the history of this era and completely avoid the mention of Banduri, or female druids, was astonishing. Again, this IS only the authors interpretation, however to call her story a historical fiction and avoid all historically accurate inspiration infuriated me.

What also bothered me and only angered me more was one of her quotes at the end of her book, on page 182 Lowry states, "Although I was creating fiction, it was to be based on truth". Except it was far from it. While yes, the child did meant and untimely and unfortunate death, the act of making these stories and claiming them to be as close to truth as possible made me upset. There was certainly an attempt made in TRYING to be historically accurate, but that attempt was so short that that it failed her stories.

Below are two links to support my claims, thought I have done past research in druidic history in published books as I consider myself a new age druid. These links are only meant to serve as a quick and easy read for those that want to actually do the research on strong pagan women in pre-Christian history as well as the Banduri.

https://www.ancient-origins.net/histo...https://www.sheathenry.com/roles-of-p...

Here are my notes during reading. WARNING: SPOILERS BELOW

-The book is sectioned off by real history and then fictional "What might have happened". -To think that the girl wasn't married or wasn't "sophisticated" enough to marry is very close-minded. It is important to look back at he cultures written at the time the girl died and be sure that the theories are correct. While she was about 13 years old at the time of her death, if the history of her culture is true and women did marry early, then that is that. It is easy for our minds to find these features of an ancient culture to be alien. It's easy to think that a girl of 13 could only have childish behaviors like having an awkward crush on a person. Times were very different back in the first century AD Germany. It is very likely that he was punished and thrown into a bog for loving a different boy. She was a child. -Mention of Ogham staves. -Varick likely has scoliosis. -My main issue concerning the story so far is that women are underminded. Caretakers, yes, but women before Christianity were worshipping. There were Goddesses, strong women who fought in battle that inspired mortal women to follow. Goddesses that not only birthed and raised children, but fought wars as well. Here, women are just baby making machines and submissive. Celtic/Germanic women had more purpose, strength, and freedom than that. Women conducted war plans along male leaders equally. -The fear of the Gods is also a Christian instilled concept. While there were wrathful Gods, the Gods called upon to help were typically not wrathful and typically weren't ones to act spitefully. -I feel as though the author did the barest minimum of research as far of druid and their history go. As if the author took what was popular in media and ran it as truth. For one, druids weren't mysterious and secluded, they were everyday people that worked with the village, doing chores as a normal person would, and could be found in the higher ranks with leaders and war planning. Secondly, druids could be women as well, it wasn't an exclusively male job. To have a section for history before the story begins and fail to implement the history into your historical fiction story is bazaar. "Why are there no women druids? she had asked her mother once. Her mother had looked startled, shocked. "It's not our role," she said. (Lowry, pg 66). The druid role was a job for women as equally as men. It most certainly was their role as a woman. -I confess. It was excruciating for me to read Estrild's story. The history was all wrong, and it was almost like the author was romanticizing an evil heathenistic, barbaric, tribe with horrible druids. While yes, druids were considered judges and did help make decisions for the tribes, druids were looked up to by all peoples in the tribe. Druids helped people and sought to better their peoples, by seeking out word from the Gods/Goddesses. Druids were also equally women as were men. It could be easy to say "oh well this is Lowry's interpretation of the story", sure, but at least get the history right. WOMEN WERE JUST AS IMPORTANT AND RESPECTED IN THESE COMMUNITIES AS MEN WERE!!!!! There were female deities, there were strong female warriors, female raiders, female judges, female druids, female leaders. Women were NOT disregarded, ignored, placed upon the outskirts, or only meant to please the men. Women were HIGHLY respected in these cultures and to write a historical fiction based around the culture and managed to get this wrong is infuriating. -It's like the author was piecing her puzzle together with jigsaw pieces and legos. -Starting Varick's story -You can't hear owls wingbeats.

[beardedmrbean]

Hey Huey zoomer, I had to get my meds. About the mess that is my generation

Tbh well…look how late Gen x and millenials in media act like? Hello the society of magic negroes?

“The most dangerous animal on the planet is white people!”- well does the Jews run the world too?

And not a funny joke, especially since the movie said that a black guy wanting to get with a white girl is going to destroy their magic

Isn’t that what the term, ESPECIALLY racist?

Also the Velma show, Mindeyyyy, yes there a lot of rich annoying white boys. We can check wiki and found out that you are from a white collar family

Also your ass is handling one of the most famous kids cartoon in history

That privilege right there

But back to “royal zoomers” i remember a screenshot pointing out that a lot of people were tolerated and not raised. They were thrown in front of the tv

And this happens to my generation, for some goddamn reason a lot of Gen x decided to throw the tablets at their kids to shut them up and not raised

And who they got their personalities from? Toxic millennials and Gen x who think white men are the root of all evil and such.

So when you have zoomers thinking that millennials and Gen x who still have unresolved parental issues into their goddamn late 20’s-40’s controlling media

WE HAD A FUCKING MOVIE LIONIZING THE DAHOMEY

Yeah my generation need to be held responsible for their actions…but they are told by Gen x and millennials who treated fictional characters like real people and real people like shit. That their shitty behavior is a okay

I’m an autistic abuser survivor that was abused by my white stepmom. And even at 13 I knew racism against white people was bad.

Oh right right that bitch is a millennial too…let just a whole bunch of late gen z and alpha gen are going to point out that current society enable their late gen x and millennials female relatives toxic af behaviors

Especially boys, like holy FUCK don’t be surprised how many men in the upcoming decades are weary af around women

Sorry for this essay, make sense?

Glad you got your meds, that's good news right there.

Magical Negros movie thing kinda dropped off the map from what I could see, which is good because it's not something we need out and about right now.

Looks like it's coming out to wide release in March so discourse will likely resume, sad.

As for Velma I think mindy kaling figured out it was garbage while she was making it but also realized it's a carer killer to admit that out loud so the shift to 'call them racist' happened and then quality is irrelevant so she just kept going.

Wild how we went from promoting tolerance to forcing people to adhere to specific dogmas.

Don't like the show, you don't watch it since it's made for people who will enjoy it, live and let live, and now we're here with opinion pieces telling us not liking it is a terrible thing somehow.

So when you have zoomers thinking that millennials and Gen x who still have unresolved parental issues into their goddamn late 20’s-40’s controlling media

I think it's still boomers at the top making the big decisions, but the crossover is happening, people on screen ya it's gonna be gen x and millennials.

Gen-X doesn't really have the parental issues though we're fairly self reliant, call it a positive or negative of the 'latchkey kid' life however you like, 2 income families were a newer thing and they didn't know what to do with us so we worked it out on our own.

Uber boomer sounding rant I'll put under a cut that actually is fairly accurate.

WE HAD A FUCKING MOVIE LIONIZING THE DAHOMEY

Still funny, not sure what the point of doing that particular movie was but if it was to showcase strong black women, yes it did that but it also forced a reckoning for people that have been dismissing any accountability for the various African kingdoms that captured, catalouged, and sold the slaves

related tangent, was waiting for one of these asks of yours to pop in because I've got a nice link for you that I've been holding on to for ya.

Great African Kingdoms

This collection presents a small sampling of the many great African kingdoms that rose and fell from the ancient period when Punt traded with Egypt up through the common era. Each kingdom developed a distinct culture and corresponding art and religious belief that continues to influence people around the world in the present day.

Went through a few of the articles linked in there, interesting stuff and it's not just different kingdoms either despite the title of the page.

Carrying on

Yeah my generation need to be held responsible for their actions…but they are told by Gen x and millennials who treated fictional characters like real people and real people like shit. That their shitty behavior is a okay

I blame a lot of that one the early gen-x who birthed the early millennials, tail end boomers early gen-x gave us the participation trophy.

I’m an autistic abuser survivor that was abused by my white stepmom. And even at 13 I knew racism against white people was bad.

Puts you leagues ahead of loads of people who have trouble with that concept. Very positive knowledge to have.

Especially boys, like holy FUCK don’t be surprised how many men in the upcoming decades are weary af around women

We're there already, it's looking like it may get worse though, sadly. The ideological divide between men and women is getting weird too I didn't expect the left right thing to go the way it has, it's a push back on the various abuses of the system that have happened though I'd guess.

Sorry for this essay, make sense?

little jankey but I got it fine since that's how my brain do too.

Again, glad you got your meds and are taking them that's a very good thing, another Gen-X thing we still have the stigma associated with "Prozac Nation" sitting in the backs of our heads no matter what we try to bash in to the normal bit.

Hope you enjoy the African Kingdom links and now it's a boomerish Gen-X rant under the cut time.

that last line is cringe, lol

[not-so-rosyyy]

Your post the other day got me thinking and sparked my interest - I haven’t bought a manga in years. Do you have any recommendations, especially more current?

OMG! I love this topic.

okay, so i actually don’t know what genre you’re into with regards to manga, but judging from your other interests, i’d say you’re into Shonen/ Fantasy/ Action/ Historical

some of these you might have already heard about, but these really are my favorite from recent years, and they're all excellent:

1. Attack on Titan - set in a post-apocalyptic world where the last of humanity are stuck inside a gated community surrounded by what they call The Walls because there are man-eating giants outside to get them. this is like the Game of Thrones of manga, in that it's like super dark, gritty and harrowing. lots of mysteries and conspiracies and real-world parallels with social issues that plague us today. the early volumes are especially top-notch. everytime i read this, i'm like "humanity is shit" but also somehow i still want to root for us lol. i cried a lot here.

2. One Punch Man - about a depressed and bored superhero facing an existential crisis because he's become so strong he can defeat any (and i mean ANY) monster and villain with just one punch. lmao sounds ridiculous but that's the point because it's really a satirical look into the superhero genre. it subverts a lot of your expectations into that kind of narrative because it directly exposes tropes. really funny (like, the main character treats average things like budgeting and groceries as his biggest problems like the rest of us), but also action-packed and the main plot and mystery just gets better and better over time.

3. Akatsuki No Yona - well, this one isn't a shonen because the main character here is a woman and romance is a huge part of the story. BUT it is not the driving force of the plot. it's really more about politics, leadership, adventure, etc. the lore is really rich, too, imo. and Yona (the MC) is one of the most inspiring female characters i've ever encountered in manga. this is the story of how she, a once sheltered princess in a once "peaceful" kingdom, had to escape the palace after the emperor got murdered during a mutiny. on the run from her enemies, she soon learned that the world outside the palace is far from the idyllic place she once thought, and from her dealings with the common people, found her strength and grew to be a great leader in her own right all while trying to stop the ongoing war and take back the kingdom from her foes. (it's a very I JUST LOVE WHEN WOMEN! type of story)

4. My Hero Academia - this one I think is the most typical shonen story in this list (you know, the very untalented and weak protagonist who grew to be the most powerful one by sheer willpower coupled with a heart of gold). but it executes the genre's tropes and cliches really well, me thinks, and that's why it's wildly popular today. it's set in a world where having "quirks" or superpowers are common, and yet Midoriya (the MC) doesn't have one...even though his dream is to be the greatest superhero like his idol All Might. long story short, they meet and All Might, after seeing how Midoriya possesses the most important quality of a hero, passes his quirk onto him. and thus starts Midoriya's journey of proving that he deserves that power and living up to his idol's name. also cried a lot reading this. (lmao notice the pattern)

5. Kingdom - this is like...one of my most favorite mangas i've ever read. i'd say it's up there with One Piece as one of the best in the shonen genre. the main story is a fictionalized account of the Warring States period of China and it's told mainly from the POV of a young and poor war orphan who joined the military and rose to be one of its greatest generals. if you're into history, philosophy, politics, battlefield strategies and tactics--i couldn't recommend this manga enough. the characterization and story progression are A++. lots of epic moments and speeches that made me shiver and cry buckets. and it constantly ups the stakes and introduces allies you'll love and enemies you'll come to respect. (also...i love the female characters here.)

***sorry for this long ass answer you didn't ask for btw lmao***

[imaginationisveryrapid]

Tag people you want to get to know better

Tagged by @tm-trx - Thank you! ☺️

Three Ships

Buck x Eddie (9-1-1) - They’ve had a grip on me since early 2020 when they showed up on my dash and have never let go since. I have no clue if they’ll ever go canon, but I’m going to root for them always.

Pacey x Joey (Dawson’s Creek) - I can’t call them my first ship, but it’s a close damn thing. I remember watching DC every week and just despising Dawson. I know it was technically his creek, but damn was he annoying, especially when he was with Joey. And then there was Pacey. Still one of my favorite television characters ever. They were so cute together and seasons 3 & 4 of the show were just excellent, mostly because of their chemistry and how many scenes they shared.

Bella x Jasper (Twilight) - Team Edward/Team Jacob, who? To be honest, I don’t really know where this one came from. I have just been in the mood recently to read some Bella x Jasper fic, and luckily there are some excellent ones out there. These moods have always ebbed and flowed, but this pairing always seems to come back every so often and they’ve got a grip on me right now. I’ve even started rewatching clips from the movies (??? what am I doing with my life???) and looking for fanvids on YouTube. I’ve always gone for the unexpected/rare pairings, I guess. Thank fuck for fanfic and fan created works.

First Ship

Kimberly x Jason (Mighty Morphin Power Rangers) - Does it make sense? Not so much. But I haven’t ever made sense, even as a child. I always remember being mad that Kimberly got with Tommy and would think up scenarios that could change canon even way back then. I was writing fanfic in my head before I even knew what it was. I wasn’t joking about those unexpected/rare pairings.

Last Song

Volcano Girls by Veruca Salt - Alternative rock has always been my number one genre, particularly 90s alt rock and female-led bands are badass. This song is so kickass.

Last Movie

The Proposal - Needed a mindless rewatch of something cute, that I’d seen before.

Currently Reading

Fight Like Hell: The Untold History of American Labor by Kim Kelly - Just got this one from the library and haven’t read too many chapters yet, but it’s great so far!

Currently Watching

9-1-1 - Finally getting around to finishing my rewatch of the series with my mom that we started last year. Just made it to the halfway point of season 4. I am in no way prepared for 4x13 and 4x14. 😬

Puppet History - Doing a complete rewatch of the series, now that the latest season is finished. I do a lot of rewatches, I’ve noticed, lol.

Good Omens - I saw stuff on Tumblr when the first season came out, but I was able to get the DVD set from the library and I’m finally watching it the whole way through.

Ghosts (CBS) - I watch this one every week with my mom and my aunt.

Currently Consuming

Water - it’s almost 1am here. If I tried to eat or drink something else now, I’ll be up even later.

Currently Craving

Fries. Always fries.

Tagging some folks from my notes (but no pressure of course): @sarcasticfina @holypiercednipplesbatman @molly2009 @organizedstardust @periru3 @calculated2stagger @bleakmonday

[southernswampmamma]

Magic Man: Chapter 6

Original! Male Character x Original! Black Female Character

Chapter Warnings: Slow Burn, Age Gap

Summary: Yolana Humphry spent her entire life stuck in Tapioca, Alabama, under the thumb of her controlling Aunt Freda. That is, until a stranger comes along and swoops her off her feet. A charming man, that everyone but herself seems to know; who easily bypasses her fragile walls and embeds himself in her heart. Escape, however, doesn’t seem to be the end of Yolana’s journey. With her newfound freedom, she now has the opportunity to pursue something she never thought she could obtain.

Chapter Summary: Nathan goes back to his nosey small town roots to get to the bottom of why Freda is the way that she is.

I try to be very inclusive with my stories, even if I write in an original female character. So, though she has a name, the only characteristic known is that she is black.

There was a mistake with Elijah's last name. He is not Elijah Bard, but Elijah Morish. Elijah is Nathan's grandfather from his mother's side.

Chapter Six

A Beautiful Aura

Tuesday morning Nathan decided to skip out on his morning run, instead deciding to sleep in, then take Yolana to work. She greeted him with a yawn; her face covered in a sleepy smile. He smiled down at her before helping her up into the truck. She was in good spirits, and so was he. He slept really well last night. It was almost as if his soul was at peace, knowing that Yolana was happy again. When Nathan got into the truck, Yolana turned on her phone and showed him her new lock screen. She took it last night when the moon was shining through her bedroom window. She only saw the view when she returned from using the restroom and took the beautiful shot of her new pot of flowers. It surprised Yolana that she could get such an excellent shot with the old smartphone, but when she looked at the result, she loved it. Yolana informed Nathan that the pot was sitting safe and sound on her desk. She was going to move them closer to the window when she found something for them to sit on.

When Nathan dropped her off, Yolana walked a few steps towards the building before spinning around and heading back to the truck. She approached the driver’s side window and Nathan rolled it down to see what she wanted. He dipped his head down near her right as she lifted so she could be heard. The closeness made her pause. To someone passing by, it could appear like he was reaching down to give her a kiss. It made Yolana’s face heat. Nathan looked down at her expectantly. So she snapped out of it.

“Brooks is having a sale this afternoon. The paper said their textured watercolor paper was going down about 5 dollars. Would really like to see what else they got.”

“Are you asking me to take you to Brooks?” Nathan teased. He really liked her shy moments.

Yolana looked at him sweetly, batting her eyes. “I guess you could say that.”

“I guess we’re going to Brooks, then.” Nathan said. He basked in the excitement Yolana displayed before she turned around, heading inside the blood bank. Nathan reversed out of the parking lot and headed back home, but he wasn’t going to stay in for too long. He had an appointment with Chief Friday.

There was a medium-sized building that sat directly in-between the fire station and the police department. 3 minutes from the police department and 3 minutes from the fire station. It served the purpose of a museum. It was the Tapioca Museum of Service, a museum to showcase both histories of the Tapioca fire and police departments. Today was the day the fire chief volunteered to take tours around the building. As fire chief, it was Belvin’s responsibility to lead the tours every once in a while. Showing children from kindergarten to highschool the history of the town they live in. That day, his visitor was Nathan. Belvin was happy to see the big man walk through the door and pay for a tour. It was slow as it always was and Belvin wasn’t doing anything but sitting down, snoring in the security guard’s ear.

Belvin happily showed Nathan around the various pictures and statues on display. He taught him the significance of the old-timey tools that firemen used to use. He tested Nathan’s strength by making the man lift an old fire pump vehicle by himself. It was his favorite thing to do with the visitors since most of them underestimate the weight of the pump. Watching over confident adults and teenagers try to lift one of those things was the highlight of the tour. Belvin even showed Nathan the placard that was made for Belvin himself as the first African American fire chief of Tapioca, Alabama. Nathan looked at it impressed. Belvin’s placard had been the only new thing he’s seen since going in. Nathan’s been through the museum plenty of times years ago. None of the information was new to him, but Belvin didn’t need to know that.

As the two rounded a corner to enter the second half of the museum, the police department side, Nathan decided then would be a good time to mention the real reason he took the tour that day. They began walking through a hall of official photos. On the wall were headshots of different men and women, mostly men, who served as the town’s chief of police. Nathan stopped at a particular photo along the next wall. It was a picture of a woman and man in their wedding clothes. They were bright faced, being married by the chief of police. Nathan looked at the info that sat beside it.

  17224 Police Unit Drive, Tapioca, Alabama Frig King Jr. marries Ladybird Briggom at the Tapioca Police Department on August 28th, 1942. The happy couple were married by Chief of Police Larry George Howard on a bright sunny Sunday afternoon. The wedding was attended by both families and the couple’s dog, Peanut.

Nathan looked down at the blurry black and white foxhound, too fat to actually catch a fox.

“Whatever happened to your engagement to that girl?”

Nathan turned around towards Belvin. He was surprised that Belvin even knew about his engagement, considering it was after he left Tapioca.

“Facebook.” Belvin answered, simply after noticing Nathan’s surprise.

“Elijah?” Nathan asked. Belvin nodded his head. “I told him not to post anything.” Nathan said to the ceiling.

Nathan shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down at his boots. “Well, we obviously didn’t go through with it.” Nathan scratched at his beard while thinking. “She said she was looking for something else; someone else. 6 months after I propose she sat me down and said she didn’t want to spend our lives together.” Nathan shrugged his shoulders. “She fell in love with another guy, she said. She didn’t know how to tell me when I proposed and she felt overwhelmed.”

Belvin’s face scrunched in sympathy. “I’m sorry, Son.”

“It’s all right. It took a while, but I eventually let her go. We’re on speaking terms, so it’s not like I shut her out or anything.” Back then, Nathan thought he would never get over it. He thought he found the one. A woman to love for the rest of his life and have his children. It hurt getting over her. A physical pain that Nathan didn’t expect, but time heals all wounds, as they say.

 Nathan rocked on his heels. His eyes peered at Belvin’s hands where one still held his wedding band. “What about you, Chief?”

Belvin’s eyes shot down to his wedding ring. He covered it with his right hand as if he was ashamed it was still there.

“I guess it’s taking me a little longer to let it go,” he confessed sadly. Nathan asked what happened, but recanted when he noticed Belvin’s hesitation. “No, no. It’s fine.”

“It had been a long time coming. We were having problems for years. It was fine, but we had our differences when it came to things like her mother and sister; even Yolana. We spent more time fighting than trying to fix things.” Belvin sighed and looked up to the ceiling. “She was tired, I could tell, and her attitude was changing because of it.”

Nathan contemplated Belvin’s words. He vaguely remembered an old lady that lived with the fire chief. He assumed that was the mother he was referring to. Nathan knew the sister from what his grandfather had informed him.

Belvin sighed again. “We still argue, though her mother and sister are gone.”

“So, it’s just Yolana?” Nathan asked.

“Yeah.” Belvin answered, sadness coating his tone.

“Do they get along? I see them together all the time.” There was a bit of guilt inside Nathan for asking such pointed questions, especially since it was family business. However, he knew he couldn’t just come out and ask Belvin what he really wanted to know. Coming out and asking if his ex-wife verbally and mentally abuses his niece would not only cause suspicion, but it will also be fruitless. He wouldn’t get any answers by being so blunt.

Nathan could tell that Belvin was hesitant to say anything, but the pain overpowered the man, and he took an opportunity to vent.

“Freda and Yolana’s relationship has always been rocky. Ever since the girl was born. Melinda, her mother, was hard to deal with after coming back home from California, and it took a toll on Freda. She is still mad at her sister and is punishing Yolana for it.”

Belvin continued. “I told her to let it go and leave that girl alone, but Freda isn’t the type to let things go. She would much rather sit and let it simmer until it boils over.”

“What did her sister do?”

“Well, her mother was sick and Melinda, being addicted to dope-“ Belvin stopped to look at Nathan like he suddenly remembered where he was. “I’m sorry, Son, I was just-a talking. It’s a private matter.” He finished.

Nathan looked at him sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I was prying.”

Belvin accepted his apology and offered to continue the tour. Nathan accepted, but wasn’t paying as much attention as he was before. He didn’t get a lot of new information, but he had an idea of what was going on. The reason Freda was the way that she was had something to do with whatever Melinda did to their mother. Nathan didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but it would have to had been pretty bad to warrant the mistreatment of Yolana, who had nothing to do with it. Nathan wasn’t trying to come up with an entire timeline of events, but just the answer to what was going on, but he had to admit the story was interesting.

Yolana’s day went by pretty smoothly. Candice did catch up to her, unfortunately, but fortunately, she didn’t mention whatever happened with her and Nathan. She just held a moderately normal conversation. Yolana’s anxiety was present the entire time. When is she going to mention it? Yolana thought over and over. However, it never passed her lips, and Yolana felt that she might not have to avoid Candace later.

2:00 came quickly and Yolana happily met Nathan at the truck. When he rounded it to get in himself, Yolana watched as he locked eyes with Candace when the woman neared her own ride. She flirtatiously waved at him, but he returned nothing but a pinched nod and hopped inside the vehicle. Yolana decided not to dwell on the feelings of triumph when she saw Nathan ignore Candace’s advances. Instead, she inquired about what their meal was for that evening.

“Quick, stop at the Mexican spot before we head off to Brooks. Then we’re heading to the outlet.” He dipped down to tap on his shoes. “Daddy needs some new boots.”

Wednesday morning Yolana sat in the truck smiling an ache to her face. Nathan snuck a country song in their morning mix of music. At first, Yolana side-eyed him when she heard the thick country accent come through the stereo, but Nathan ignored her and turned the volume up. “Just listen,” he said. Nathan found the perfect song to introduce Yolana to a broader spectrum of country music. He thought about it when she called him “Hoity-toity” last Friday night.

The song was a live performance of “It’s Hard To Be Humble” by Mac Davis. A song that sounds serious at first, but soon becomes comical. The smile on Yolana’s face was instant as soon as she heard the first few words of the verse. Halfway through the song, she took out her phone and began typing, holding it up to Nathan’s face afterwards.

“He’s kind of handsome.” She had brought up a picture of the singer that showed a young Mac Davis. He was smiling while leaning on an old-style Ford, head full of curls topped by a cowboy hat. He had a pleasant smile, and though he sported a ‘70s curly afro, it fit his face well.

“You think so?” Nathan said, taking a moment to look at the phone.

Yolana nodded and turned the phone back towards herself. She smirked as she looked down at the picture. “Don’t see a lot of men like him around here.”

“Is he your type?”

“Oh! Yes!” Yolana smiled, not taking her eyes away from the phone. “Look at those pretty blue eyes of his! Oh my God, Nathan. I found a picture of him with a damn beard.”

“So, your type of man has blue eyes and a beard?” Nathan chuckled.

“Mmm hmm,” Yolana responded, very distracted at finding more pictures of the singer with his beard.

“Well, ain’t that something?” Nathan said cheekily.

Noticing the haughty tone coming from Nathan, Yolana looked up at him. When he looked back with a grin stretching a mile across his face, she realized what she had just admitted. Yolana just told Nathan that blue eyed bearded country men were her type. She just told Nathan that he was her type. Yolana was finding it really hard to shut her mouth lately.

Yolana rolled her eyes, more at herself than Nathan’s dumb look. “Oh my God.”

Nathan laughed. “Oh, Lord it’s hard to be humble.” he sung.

“Shut up!”

“When you’re perfect in every way!” he continued, putting the truck in park. When Yolana reached for the door handle to get out, she heard the locks click, keeping her in.

“Stop.” She spoke. It was a combination of a whine of distress and laughter.

“I can’t wait to look in the mirror, ‘cause I get better lookin’ each day!“

“I can’t stand you!” She manually unlocked the door to hop out. Before she could close the door, Nathan stopped her. He turned down the music so she could hear him better.

“Pops and I are thinking on coming down to the church for service this evening. I was wondering if I could sneak a seat next to you. I haven’t been to church in a bit and sitting next to you might make it a little less awkward.” He licked his bottom lip before biting it, a little nervous at her answer. Yolana stared at it.

“I’ll probably be sitting in the pews behind the pastor.”

“With your aunt,” Nathan said, matter of fact.

“With my aunt.” Yolana confirmed.

Nathan sighed. “Well, just seeing you should ease my troubles.” He smiled. “I’ll see you at 2:00.”

Yolana sweetly smiled and waved Nathan goodbye before turning towards the building.

Nathan didn’t know what it was about 11:00 a.m. Wednesday morning, but it seemed as if everyone and their mamma were shopping. He scanned through his memory for any holidays he might have forgotten about that would warrant so many bodies in the Walmart. He came up with nothing and assumed that the business of the store was just chance. Nathan didn’t have much to buy, just two cases of beer and a gallon of milk, but it seemed like he would be in line for a long time, regardless.

He strolled up to the checkout lanes, noticing there were barely any open. There were mostly self-service machines and Nathan thought it would be better to use one of those than try to wait in the three lanes that were open. He queued behind the shortest one he could see while holding the two cases in each hand and the milk with his pinky finger. Soon though, his hands were getting numb, and his pinky was feeling frozen, so he sat the beer down on the ground, topped with the milk. Once he stood back up, he noticed a familiar face standing at the very front of the lines, wearing a bright yellow vest.

Freda stood there overlooking the crowd with a concentrated glower pressed upon her face. “What luck.” Nathan thought. He was meaning to talk to Freda, but he was waiting until the church service later, but look at that. She was right there. He didn’t know that she worked at the Walmart.

He waited patiently as the line slowly proceeded scooting his items with his foot as he moved. It took 15 minutes, but Nathan eventually made it to the front. He locked eyes with Freda and gave her a pleasant smile and a nod. She nodded in return, acknowledging him, but the smile she left out. He turned back and lifted his items onto the scanner and waited as it beeped for Freda to come to his aid. Right as he took out his wallet, Freda approached the self-checkout. He gave her another charming smile that she eventually halfheartedly returned, and tapped on the screen a few times. She looked at him expectedly.

“Oh! Here you go,” Nathan said, handing her his ID. He didn’t expect to have to give it to her. Nathan wasn’t old, but he definitely looked over the age of 21. The facial hair helped. “How’s your day going” he asked.

“It’s going well,” Freda responded without looking his way.

“It’s pretty busy, huh?” Nathan continued.

“Yep.”

Freda seemed as if she was in a sour mood. Usually, Nathan would back off and leave people alone, but he wondered things about Freda that he could get answered at that moment. So, he pressed on, trying to stall so he could hold her longer.

“I meant to speak to you at Belvin’s barbecue party at the station, but you seem sort of busy.” Nathan said. Freda handed his license back and clicked her nails against the screen.

“Yes, I was trying to do some business. It was nice seeing you.” She turned to walk away, not saying another word.

“That’s okay. I got to speak to Yolana. She’s a pretty nice gal. How is she doing, by the way?”

Freda stopped in her tracks, half turned. Her sharp eyes shot to Nathan’s. There it was. The reaction to hearing Yolana’s name made her body tense, defensive.

“She’s fine.”

“That’s good. I remember we had a conversation about her art. Does all her work look so good?” Nathan feigned friendliness. He would do what he did with Belvin and not let it slip that he and Yolana already knew each other.

Freda pursed her lips and stiffly nodded her head. Nathan continued.

“You think she would be open to developing some commissions? I would love to sit down with her and talk about it.”

Freda started shaking her head before Nathan could finish his sentence. “I don’t believe Yolana is interested in anything like that,” she answered tersely.

Nathan knew that to be untrue. He knew straight from Yolana’s mouth that making money from her craft would be a dream come true. Nathan produced a card with his name and information from his wallet. “Well, maybe she could give me a call and we can set a date to meet.” Nathan’s choice of words didn’t sit right with Freda and it made her eye twitch.

“Yolana’s not interested Mr. Bard.” Freda said, firmly insisting.

Nathan looked down at the woman. “Oh, what a shame. She really is a very talented woman. She can make good money with a gift like that.” Though Freda rejected his offer, she still took his information, and Nathan didn’t know how to feel about that.

Freda took the business card and put it in the front pocket of her work vest. “It’s just a little hobby of hers. Yolana has no plans to do anything with it. There’s not much money to make around here doing art anyways.” Freda spoke. She highly doubted that her niece’s little hobby could bring in “good” money. Things like that aren’t needed nor appreciated enough to get a good job.

“Yeah, you’re right about that one. But she could go somewhere that she could. Like up north; definitely out of Tapioca.” Nathan suggested.

Freda snorted, finding it quite funny that he thought Yolana had the capacity to leave Tapioca. She relied on Freda far too much to even move down the street. She doesn’t own anything but the stuff in her room. Also, where would she even go in the first place?

Nathan heard the quiet laugh but ignored it.

Freda folded her arms over her chest and looked at Nathan while he retreated his wallet back to his back pocket. Something didn’t sit right about him. He was too friendly towards Yolana, and his conversation with her contrasted with the information Yolana gave her. Yolana said that he only stopped to say hello.

“You know, I’m a part of the lady’s group in my church and a few of them live in my neighborhood. One of them; I’m really close with. We were sisters in our high school Abstinence for God group. She noticed that your truck comes through the cul-de-sac every day.” Freda said expectantly. As far as she knew, there were no relatives or friends of Nathan in her neighborhood. So why would he be coming through every day?

Nathan smiled down at the woman. Small town gossip. Everyone knew everyone and everyone knew what everyone drove. Also, the fact that Freda was a part of a high school abstinence group could explain why she was such a tight ass.

“I have a friend in the area,” he stated simply.

A venomous smile showed on Freda’s face. “Twice a day?” She said an obvious gotcha question.

“Twice a day.” Nathan dead panned, but smiled at the end to let her know he wasn’t stupid. However, he wouldn’t at all be surprised if she came out with time stamps and video footage provided by her church friend. She didn’t, however, and kept her eyes on Nathan with an obvious challenge. When he didn’t avoid her gaze, she retreated, though with an attitude and distrust.

“You must be really close friends.” Freda said. “Have a blessed evening Mr. Bard.” Her words were dripping with sarcasm.

He returned the sentiment before scanning his last item. When he paid and gathered his items, he gave Freda a quick nod before exiting the grocery chain. His first time speaking to Freda didn’t go at all that smoothly, but Nathan didn’t expect much to begin with. He knew there would be some static between the two, especially since he mentioned Yolana. That’s what he was expecting; her walls to go up. To just blatantly speak on Yolana’s behalf about her intentions. To diminish her hard work and say it was and would continue to be nothing but a hobby didn’t sound like something a supportive loved one would say. It humored her to think of it even. That might have something to do with how much Yolana doubted her work. Though her eyes lit up when he mentioned her doing art professionally, he could tell she didn’t truly believe it was possible. Maybe she would have if she had some support around her. The only confidence there was, was how confident Freda was in Yolana’s failure.

Nathan leisurely drove towards Yolana’s home as he half listened to her describe all that had gone on during her day. She was on the phone with Mrs. Henderson, who called right when Yolana got into the truck. The conversation started with the two discussing their next meet up or escape plan the upcoming Saturday. It turned into Yolana, spitting all the drama that happened in the past week or two at her job. For such a simple and small place of work, it surprised Nathan how much drama there was and the amount of pregnant women that work there. He counted 5 in one story alone. By the time Yolana ended the call, he was already pulling into her driveway. Yolana put her phone back into her bag and sat back with a huff. Nathan knew from being around his mother and sister that Yolana just used a shit ton of energy to describe her day and, most likely, she hadn’t even scratched the surface.

As Yolana began to exit the vehicle, Nathan stopped her by taking a hold of her hand.

“Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?” Nathan asked out of the blue.

“No.”

“How about we ride mine tomorrow? It’s going to be a bright day. A great day for a motorcycle ride.” Nathan said, amused at her reaction. “It’ll be fun experiencing something new.”

Yolana was hesitant, but after taking a second to think about it and reveling in the slow heat that was rising from the hand he held, she agreed with a nod.

“Is it safe? Because we have some bumpy roads and if I fall off, I’m going-“

Nathan held up his other hand to placate her. He waved her worries away.

“I’m a safe driver. Never even been in an accident, even when I was learning. You’re in safe, capable manly hands,” he said, adding in the joke to ease her spirits. She could definitely feel how manly his hands were.

“Okay, but you better be real careful with me.”

“I will, I promise.” Yolana watched as he slowly noticed he was still holding her hand, as she couldn’t leave without him letting it go. He sheepishly smiled, throwing that same hand through his brown locks. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Yolana stood in front of her full-length mirror that hung on the outside of her closet door. It was a little dressy, but the dress she wore wasn’t too over the top for a midweek service. It was the level of dressy Freda was mostly known for, a casual dressy. Though mid-week services were the nights you could get away with wearing a simple T-shirt and jean skirt. The men were even more casual since they were allowed to wear jean pants and the boys could wear shorts. No pants or shorts were allowed for the women and girls. Freda always wore a dress, no matter what. She wore church appropriate heels and a light makeup every church service, though Sundays, she ramped it up.

Yolana never cared too much for overdressing for church services. She kept it simple most of the time, liking the “simple and put together” look. No flashy dresses with bells and whistles attached and gaudy colors. She liked simple colors with a minimalistic design that still showed her young beauty. It made her feel fresh. She only got super dressed up for holidays like Easter and church anniversaries. However, tonight she left her jean skirt in the closet and instead put on a true-blue dress. Near to the colors of her flowers that sat gorgeously on her desk. When she saw the almost near match, she knew she had to put it on. She had to convince herself, though, that the change was for herself and not the man that was going to attend the sermon. The man that slept with her coworker.

“Stop it, Yolana.” She stared into the eyes of her reflection when she said it. She instead busied herself with the half up, half down look that she was going for with her hair. Convincing herself was getting harder and harder the more she fussed with her looks in the mirror. She hated herself for it, but she couldn’t seem to stop, that is, until her aunt came busting into her room unannounced.

Yolana remembered many times having a discussion with Freda about knocking, instead of barging in like Kramer from Seinfeld. She even suggested having a lock for her door. That conversation went about as well as every other conversation concerning Yolana’s privacy. The older woman went in the room quietly, looking Yolana up and down. She appeared behind her in the reflection of the mirror. She seemed pleased.

“You look pretty.” Freda said.

Yolana smiled, genuinely delighted about the appraisal. “Thank you.”

“You should look like this every service. It would do you some good.”

And there she goes. “What do you mean?” Yolana knew to let it go, but she opened her mouth anyway.

“The ladies of the church,” Freda started. Oh my God, Yolana thought. “Should always look appropriate during church. Not only do we represent women of God, we also represent the pastor and the church.”

“I’m not one of the ladies.” Yolana said with an attitude.

“Well, you might as well be. You don’t do anything else. What else do you contribute?”

Yolana flinched. What else did she contribute? To the church or to society? Well. Absolutely nothing. Yolana’s considered to be a part of the lady’s group, but she’s not and she told Freda that. She didn’t devote herself to anything else in the church because she knew Freda would display her like a trophy that she designed and molded herself. She refused the first lady’s offer to help run the after-school program, run the thrift shop, and 5 more other things. Yolana knew Freda would shove her way into those, too. Yolana didn’t contribute anything to society because she wasn’t even allowed 10 ft away from the house without Freda’s permission.

Yolana smoothed down her dress one more time before turning to get a jacket.

“I’ll be in the car.” She said with finality. She left Freda standing there staring at her.

Nathan stood at the entrance of the church with his grandfather beside him. He felt out of place as he let his grandfather take on most of the conversation in the small cluster of people that flocked to them. Thomas was there as well, but as soon as they arrived, the caretaker made a beeline for a very appealing blonde-haired woman standing by herself. Thomas, not being a man of faith, volunteered to drive the two men that night. It surprise Nathan that he would come to a church with him being a non-believer, but he found his answer to why. He just hoped that the young woman was open to his views and Thomas wasn’t leading her to any false pretenses.

Nathan looked around. There were mostly familiar faces at the church that evening. There was barely a person there he didn’t know. While standing outside, he had already caught up with at least 6 people he hadn’t yet seen since his arrival. One thing was for sure: Greater Mount Calvary Pentecostal Orthodox Missionary Baptist Church was going to be well stocked full of people. He didn’t remember there being so many members since his last attendance. Nathan hoped they got their air conditioning fixed at least.

Nathan was in the middle of listening to the group talk when a burnt orange Nissan Murano pulled up to the special parking right at the church entrance. After a minute or two, 2 people exited the vehicle. One Freda Friday and the other Yolana Humphry. Nathan chuckled. The gall of that woman. Freda parked in one of the “special” parking spots that sat right beside the one handicap spot that was right next to the pastor and the assistant pastor spots. Nathan seriously doubted that Freda was given a parking spot just for her being the head of the ladies’ group. Freda approached wearing a simple black two-piece women’s suit with glitter trimming. Her feet were wearing simple black heels, and she wore a matching purse on her shoulder. Her hair was down and fanning her shoulders. A few strands were tucked behind one ear to show off her glittering earrings. Yolana was a step behind her, as usual.

Nathan locked eyes with Yolana as she walked up the steps towards the group. She wore a pretty knee-length blue dress that looked like it was simply wrapped around her and tied at the waist. The deep neckline was a wide frill that matched the bottom where it tapered at her knees. It was sleeveless and the deep neckline that would have shown her cleavage otherwise, was pinned together to hide it. It still did its job, however. Her bust was accentuated alongside the column of her throat that was on display, with most of her braids being atop her head. She wore flats on her feet. They were more comfortable for Yolana, and she only owned two pairs of heels and they were for special occasions only.

Nathan looked Yolana up and down. She noticed, and she felt her face heat, as well as her neck and hands. Her heart began to beat faster. The longer he took to make it back to her eyes, the faster her heart beat. The dress wasn’t that remarkable, but the way his eyes coasted over her form, maybe it was. She hadn’t worn it in a while, so it might be a little tighter than when Yolana originally bought it. But in the mirror earlier, she didn’t look like she was busting out of the thing, but it showed more of her curves. It couldn’t have been too tight if Freda let her out the house with it on.

Nathan’s appreciative blues eventually made it back to Yolana’s face. He had never seen her in anything other than scrubs. He knew she had a shape on her, but the dress showed her off very well. Nathan especially liked the look of her legs and her collarbone that held a simple gold cross against it. He wished he matched her effort. Knowing it wasn’t a Sunday service, Nathan simply wore a moss green sweatshirt and khaki pants. He wore his new boots that Yolana helped pick out, though.

As Freda got distracted by the members, Yolana made her way over to Elijah and Nathan. Just like that, the surrounding group disappeared towards Freda and freed up space for Yolana to approach the men. Nathan kept his eyes on her as she got closer and even as she looked away to greet Elijah. Yolana felt his heavy gaze and, though she knew better, she welcomed it.

“It’s nice to see y’all again.” Yolana said.

“It’s nice to see you too, Miss Yolana. You look very beautiful in that dress, I might say.” Elijah said, smiling down at the young woman.

“Well, as soon as I heard you were coming, Elijah, I had to dress up for you. Especially since you canceled two clinic appointments in a row, and I haven’t been able to see you.”

The warm smile fell from Elijah’s face and was followed by a pinched look of guilt. For the first time since Yolana showed up, Nathan took his eyes off her and accusingly looked at his grandfather.

“Elijah Morish! What is she talking about?” Nathan asked.

“Just calm down.”

“I am calm.”

“You know what? I suddenly remember I need to speak to your aunt about something, Yolana. She’s coming this way as we speak.”

Yolana turned around to see her aunt walking towards the threesome. She froze, not too excited about Freda joining the conversation. However, she relaxed her body when Elijah passed her and stopped Freda in her tracks, distracting the woman and setting her off course. Yolana turned back to Nathan, who was still looking down at her. She quickly glanced away, but she felt like a schoolgirl. Yolana convinced herself to look up to him and stop avoiding eye contact. Act your age, she thought. When she moved her eyes back up to Nathan’s, they were there, patiently waiting.

“You do look pretty, Yolana.” Nathan reiterated his grandfather’s compliment.

“Thank you, Nathan.”

“You match your flowers,” he noted. Yolana nodded, pleased that he even noticed. She didn’t think he would, considering he was a man, and learning from her Uncle Belvin, men don’t really pay attention to things like that. It seemed that Nathan did, however. He’s very attentive.

“So, what did you do with yourself since we didn’t go anywhere this afternoon?”

Nathan shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing really. I did most of what I needed before I picked you up. I went to the store and saw Freda.” Nathan said, nodding towards Yolana’s aunt.

“You did?”

Nathan nodded. “Yeah, we talked for a bit.”

Yolana’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “About what? Why didn’t you tell me?” The last thing she needed was Freda getting suspicious of Nathan.

“Nothing much, just you.” He said it so simply, like it was nothing. “She doesn’t support you that much, does she?” he asked. “I don’t think she believes you will get anywhere with your art, either.”

“What’s new, really?” Yolana already knew that. “You should have told me that you saw her today. She reads way too much into things.”

Nathan shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not worried about your aunt, Lana.”

He said it’s so confidently, and Yolana instantly believed him. It made her heartbeat accelerate. She wished she could be like him. She wished she could always feel the calm she felt when she was around him. Butterflies flooded her stomach, but they were the result of anxiety. She was really going to miss him.

“So, you going to sing a solo tonight or what?” Nathan said mischievously.

The anxiety that Yolana felt was swept under the rug and replaced with playful impetus.

“Only if you sing first.”

“Oh no, I sound like a horse, but I’m sure your voice is as angelic as your charm.”

“What-ever. You didn’t sound that bad when you were singing this morning. I might be in the choir stand tonight, but singing ain’t coming from me.” Yolana will leave that to Freda.

“I’ve heard you in the truck a few times. It was quiet, but I heard it. You can carry a tune.”

Yolana shook her head. “There will absolutely be no singing coming from these lips.” She tapped at said lips and Nathan brought his eyes down to them. When Yolana noticed, she licked them, and a fierce set of cerulean eyes met her own.

Freda stood not too far, but far enough from Yolana that she couldn’t hear what she was talking about, but how that boy was looking at her niece, it couldn’t be good. They stood close to each other, their feet almost touching. Yolana looked as if she was enjoying herself a little too much. If the girl wasn’t careful, she was going to end up in some kind of trap. To Freda, that man cannot be trusted. Yolana should be ashamed of herself for being so close to a man on church grounds. They were practically chest to chest. Why was she being so senseless? If Elijah hadn’t stopped her, Freda would have gotten Yolana and brought her inside the church. Of course, though Elijah had to stop her to talk about something she couldn’t care less about. The church looked pristine and clean, with a bare lawn. Why clutter things up with flowers everywhere? Freda could understand a few potted plants here and there, but a garden. Really?

Her eyes slid back and forth between Elijah and Yolana with Nathan. She continued to look over them suspiciously until Nathan reached for one of Yolana’s braids, twirling it around his fingers. That put Freda on high alert.

“Excuse me, Elijah. The church would not benefit at all with a garden. At least I can’t see why it would. Allergy season is already horrible with the trees around. The flowers would just make it worse, and they bring bugs. But thank you for the suggestion.” She said before walking away towards the couple.

Elijah looked after her, dumbfounded. He was making no suggestions. He merely made a statement about how the church would look.

Freda’s heels clicked across the flooring towards Yolana and Nathan. He saw Freda before Yolana did and almost rolled his eyes. There was a salty smile on Frieda’s lips when she approached the two. Her hand immediately wrapped around Yolana’s arm.

“Hello Mr. Bard. It’s nice seeing you again. Yolana, it’s time to go inside.” With that, Freda yanked Yolana away.

Nathan didn’t like that one bit and opened his mouth to say something, but his grandfather was there to stop him. The old man put a hand to Nathan’s shoulder, stilling him.

“Let’s go inside.”

13 years. It had been 13 years, and Pastor Macklemore still hadn’t fixed the damn air conditioner. Lord, forgive me for cursing in your house, Nathan thought. He decided to wear a sweatshirt, but the ceiling fan and the elderly woman fanning herself cooled him enough. He was barely paying attention. Instead of listening to what the minister had to say, Nathan was having a telepathic conversation with Yolana across the building. He ignored the heated glare that Freda would send his way every few minutes to instead compel her to be even more upset. Like a continuous loop, Freda would give him an indignant scowl, then she would look at Yolana until she was paying attention again. The two would listen to the word for a good two minutes before getting distracted by each other once again.

They both toned it down, however, not wanting Freda to get too upset. Yolana eventually brought her full attention to the pulpit and Nathan did as well. His eyes found her features repeatedly throughout the congregation, though, and he sat there wondering what had changed. Ever since he woke up that morning, Yolana looked different to Nathan and he couldn’t think of the reason why. The aura surrounding her seemed brighter, more beautiful. He found himself soaking in that revelation more than the words of the preacher.

Service ended quickly and most of the people left, but a few stayed to chat and cluster around each other. Nathan thought he had seen the last of Yolana when church dismissed, but he was wrong. She snuck away from Freda while she was being held up by her Uncle Belvin and met Nathan and Elijah at their vehicle. She bid Elijah goodbye and demanded him to keep his next appointment. Then she looked up at Nathan.

“About tomorrow. Do I need to wear anything in particular? I don’t have a helmet or anything like that.”

“I’ll bring everything you need. Just bring a second set of clothes for after work.”

Yolana nodded. “Okay. See you tomorrow. Good night.”

“Good night, sweet dreams.”

Nathan rounded the truck and got in the driver’s side before cranking it to start.

“Romantic motorcycle ride tomorrow?” Elijah asked once the truck started moving.

“Shut up.” Nathan said.

Freda was very quiet in the car on their way back home. Yolana was afraid that maybe she pushed it a little too far that night during church. She was becoming more and more careless the more she hung around Nathan. She noticed that last week. Freda was early quiet, but she didn’t mention anything, and by the time they’d made it home, Yolana thought she would be fine. Until Freda opened her bedroom door, right before Yolana was getting inside her comforter.

Freda was dressed in her nightgown with a matching robe on her shoulders. Her hair was neatly wrapped for the night. Even when she was sleeping, she was well put together. Freda meandered over to Yolana’s desk and sat down in the chair, pulling it towards her niece. Yolana sat on her bed getting ready for the talking to. Yet as they sat eye to eye, Yolana felt like a dwarf across from Freda. She wondered if Belvin felt that way when they were married. Or her mother, when she was still living there in that very room. Did she sit her mother down? Did Melinda ever sit on that bed and get a talking to from her older sister Freda? Most likely, yes. At least Yolana assumed from all the times Freda complained about how Melinda used to act.

“What’s going on with you and Elijah’s grandson?” Freda started.

“Nothing.” Yolana lied. She had been doing that more and more in the past 2 weeks.

“Y’all two a little too chummy for there to be nothing going on. Last, I remember y’all only met once. At Belvin’s BBQ.” Freda said.

“Speaking of. Did you know I talked to Nathan at the store earlier? He was there to buy some beer. Then had the audacity to come to church. He probably drunk a few before driving down there.”

There she goes again, Yolana thought. Judging and jumping to conclusions about people.

“He told me that y’all had a pretty long conversation at the barbecue. Long enough for you to show him your pictures. That is the complete opposite of what you told me. You told me he just said hello.”

Yolana looked off to the side. “I didn’t want you to think too much of it. It was an innocent conversation, and it didn’t even matter.” Yolana explained.

“But you lied. You still lied. I’ve been hearing rumors about him coming through this neighborhood every day.”

“That has nothing to do with me. That’s probably just a coincidence.” Yolana refused to let her put two and two together. She refused to let Freda ruin what she only had two more days of keeping. “The only other time I saw him was when he attended Elijah during his appointment. That’s the reason we seemed so friendly. But that’s it!” Yolana thought that if she made Freda feel like she was admitting a truth to her, that she might back down. That Yolana had confessed to something, and she won.

Freda continued to look at Yolana like she was a disgrace to her.

“Is that it?”

“Yes.” Yolana responded greatly. Freda stayed silent, and after a minute, Yolana continued. “What does it matter, anyway?” She looked down at her intertwined fingers.

Freda took a minute before responding.

“There are some dangerous people out there, Yolana. I should know since your mother introduced me to a lot of them and I’m sorry to say, she was one of them. So was your father.”

Yolana kept her head down. She hated it when Freda brought up her mother. She does it all the time, but when she goes into the specifics, it always makes Yolana emotional.

“You never know who is dangerous until something happens. I didn’t know your mother was dangerous until she held you upside down on top of the stairs and threatened to drop you. It took me and your uncle 10 entire minutes to get through her drug addled mind and convince Melinda to put you down.”

Freda told Yolana that story plenty of times. It was her way of telling Yolana, if it wasn’t for her, Yolana would be dead.

“I saved your life. Nathan is a big man. He is twice your size, and he’s what? 12 years older than you. I can’t save you from someone like him. A big white man with money. He could probably buy his way out of trouble, just like Elijah did when Nathan was a child. Did you know that? He’s been arrested multiple times, and he hangs around that delinquent Booboo. So, it would be smart not to talk to him anymore.”

Freda slowly got up from the seat and made her way to the door. She stopped at the entrance and turned around.

“Don’t be dumb like your mother was and let a man lead you to lose yourself. Honestly, Yolana, I don’t have the patience to save you again.”

With that, Freda left, slamming the door behind her. With her absence, Yolana let the tears she had been holding slide down her face and land on her hands.

She cried for a while, then she took a breath and cried some more. Eventually she stopped and her puffy red eyes landed on her flowers. Some more tears fell before she reached down to the underside of her mattress and retrieved an old glossy magazine. She turned it right side up and stared at the person on the cover. It was the only physical image she had of her mother. All glammed up in rhinestones and lace with bold makeup that was popular back then in the ‘90s. Yolana looked to that magazine whenever Freda took it upon herself to feel righteous by dragging others through the mud. Yolana looked at that magazine with eyes full of tears until she fell into a dreamless sleep.

It didn’t matter what Freda said about her mother or what she did to her grandmother. Melinda Humphry chased her dreams and didn’t let Freda drag her down, unlike Yolana. She was too weak and scared to even tell the truth and seek out a man she was interested in.

[hanna-portfolio]

Drag king performances are not only about toxic masculinity, yet all drag kings experience it

Drag kings have been around for ages. As a matter of fact, they have a very strong presence in Britain`s theatrical history, even as early as the early modern period. 

The year 1660 marked the first time that women were legally allowed to perform on stage, and they did so under the appearance of men. Aphra Behn, for example, created plays about women wooing men at gatherings while dressed as men!

Fast forward to the Music Hall tradition of the 19th and 20th centuries, when a sea of female performers were toying with masculinity on stage. Not as a subculture, but in front of the King and Queen at the first royal Variety Show in 1912. Even though the Queen grew a little fussy about it, they laid the framework for drag kings to explore and expand gender in whichever way they saw fit today. 

Christian Adore is a drag king, performed by Francesca Forristal. Together with Eaton Messe, they make up the iconic double act Dragprov Revue. 

Christian plays with masculinity on stage, using makeup and illusion to mess with gender. He says drag kings are often labeled as the “opposite of drag queens” however to him drag kings can be cis women, trans men and non-binary, there is no “opposite” about it.”

He adds: “We are all sick of gender being a total dick to everyone. Telling us how to dress, how to act, who “can” or “can't” do whatever. 

“And there are some seriously toxic men out there that drag kings are DYING to sink their satire teeth into.”

Christian is rooting for drag kings rights to have fun parodying all the things that might infuriate them about cis-men. Yet, personally, Christian favourite drag kings have characters which dig a little deeper than direct imitation of toxic stereotypes.

He says: “There is equal room for celebration. Trans masculinity, beauty in masculinity, confidence, vulnerability, different body shapes and body positivity. 

“Try to see what complex qualities you can bring to masc-identity and imagine drag as a space to dream big. What could masculinity look like, if society was more open minded?”

Drag kings have been around forever, long before RuPaul entered the drag stage. Though drag is not all about Rupaul's Drag Race, quite the opposite actually, it should be acknowledged how the show and Rupaul has boosted drag`s overall popularity. 

However, what should also be acknowledged is the fact that RuPaul only allows queens on his show. No kings, no femme-queens. Imagine The Great British Bake Off, but with only cisgender men as contestants.

As a result, corporate or high-profile events scatter after drag queens, sounding like spoiled kids who want “glamorous queens like the ones on Drag Race”. The gender pay gap has followed drag kings, even when they are dressed as men…ironic isn't it? 

LoUis CyFer is a drag king. He performs drag as a way to express his identity as a queer artist. 

He says: “I perform on stage the complexities of my relationship to my gender in front of an audience that maybe connect with it on some level or don't. 

“I get to experience the excellence that is punishing and playing around with the opposite gender.”

He explains how not all drag kings challenge toxic masculinity, but he thinks that they all have experienced it. 

He adds: “I think it's always in some way or another found within their work. Some of them replicate that toxic masculinity in their characters and some of them try to wrestle with it. 

“Trying to create different perspectives of masculinity and trying to destruct what it is, what toxic masculinity is and how harmful it can be.”

When talking about what it is like to be a drag king in relation to the entertainment industry, drag king LoUis CYfer says “it is like being the one at a party that no one wants to talk to.”

“There are a lot of very good drag kings, but a lot of the venues are not giving them the opportunity to have a full show because they know now, because of RuPaul and the last 14 years, that drag queens will sell tickets. People with power, producers and managers, are frightened to take a risk because they think their audience won't like it. 

“Whenever I or some of my drag kings friends have performed, people have absolutely loved it and been like “yes! Something different!”

LoUis explains how he thinks the difference in popularity comes down to the “patriarchal chokehold” that exists in the western world and opportunities are always coming second to people who “are not born with a penis.”

“We have to sort of wait for our opportunity and I think that is because a lot of men are in power and so what would happen if they offered women power.” 

He goes on to talk about RuPaul and how they have offered themselves, as well as being able to have these opportunities because they are “privileged gay men”. 

“There are a lot of privileged gay men in the entertainment industry and they are very highly represented. 

“In many ways, being a queer woman or cis female, those opportunities are not given to you because they are not celebrated as much. Particularly, buchness isn't celebrated because it is not desirable to men. So why would it make its way into television and mainstream media?”

It is safe to say that RuPaul's Drag Race has made a lot of drag queens very rich as well as given them fantastic opportunities and excelled through their craft. However, it is exclusionary. 

LoUis says: “It's such a shame. RuPaul`s comments about only men being able to do drag was very silly.

“I think that for all the good that the show has done, it has done quite a lot of damage as well to the queer community. 

“It has sort of told people to be a good queer you got to be like a sassy, nasty gay who's clicking fingers and popping ‘yas queen’ in order to be seen as powerful, by reclaiming these ways of being.”

[the-ninjago-historian]

ALALAKDKDLALAKSKDLSLALA okay. :D

I might have to redact a couple things because SPOILERS!!! HERE WE GO!!!!

So I was trying to figure out what my evil army should be. I felt it should fit the with fantasy theme, since the main villain is Vangelis. And the season he debuted in was high fantasy based. So I considered a bunch of different options. Including trolls, clockwork robots, and I think even wendigos. None of these quite fit. Finally I settled on Gargoyles. And here I have a scrapped piece of concept art of one of them I drew.

I say scrapped because some happened that COMPLETELY rewrote this thing for the better. After reading the short story Amber Spiral, (Which I'll give to link to in case you're curious.)

I decided Vangelis would be using an Ancient Amber Tree and Amber Elemental power to steal the Element of {REDACTED} from {REDACTED} And as time went on, I realized that the Gargoyles mythical-ness and the Ambers prehistory vibes did not mesh well. So I got back to the drawing board. I don't remember how, but it suddenly hit me. What you mostly likely to find in Amber?

BUGS.

Creepy scary bugs. 😈🦗🪲🦟 Enter THE INSECTOIDS! A bug based race that live deep under ground, in the roots of the Amber Tree. Now I don't have any concept art yet. But I do have some descriptions from my notes on them. And one named character named King Torrlax. Here! Take a peek! (There might be spelling mistakes. I apologize.😅)

Anyhoo, as you can see, they would be formidable fighters, being faster and more agile in the air then the Shintarians. A could cool facts about them is that they would look a bit like the big tribes from Chima. Albeit taller, scarier and more grotesque.

And also there was a line of the toys a long time ago from Lego called Insectoids. So it's a neat call back to a part of Lego's history.

So now with a new army and a dark vibe, the villains had taken on a more Dark Fantasy vibes, which perfectly contrasted the Deep Lands mystical and wonderous look. And I am LIVING for it baby! :DDD

There's so much nuances, references, and a parallels I can't even explain with some more concept art. I can't wait for that. One fun reference is the Amber chunks set in the tree's roots and branches kinda allude to insect eggs. So that's kinda creepy and fun. And can't wait to show that off.

I also designed a concept Ninja armor for one of the Ninja. Who? That is {REDACTED} lol.

OH YEAH! As for my Ninjago x Rottmnt AU, I figured out what Yokai Nya and Kai will be! Tigons! (Male Tiger x Female Lion) Ray is a Bengal Tiger and Maya is an Asiatic Lion. Also, I made Nya a White Tigon, since I thought it would contrast her blue color scheme nicely. And Kai of course is just regular Tiger colors, since they're so fiery. I'm still working out some other stuff,, but that was one of the most exciting things I came up with.😁

So that's all I got right now. Thank you for hearing me ramble!!! I feel a lot better now! - ✒️🐉

Tag List: @shatteredhope123 @nocturnal-nexu @dexter-the-dog @aroninshonour 😁👋)

Want to be added to the tag list? Just ask! That way you can stay updated on Ninjago: Into The Deep all the time!😁

I'm having SO DANG MANY ideas and plot points for my Ninjago AUs and Fanseasons right now!

SO

MANY

IDEAS.

And like no one to talk to about it right now...😭 Anyone want to hear me ramble about it? If I don't get this out of my system, I might explode.🤣 - ✒️🐉

[writingwithcolor]

Wealthy Black character in historical romance, written by white author

@confusedcrowcaws asked:

Dear Team,

Apologies in advance if this comes off as a really navel-gazy question, I’m genuinely not sure if I should start writing this book. I’m a white woman writing paranormal fiction set in late Victorian England. The male lead is a young Black gentleman scholar. His role is to solve the mystery and be the ‘voice of reason’, and his race doesn’t come into play at all in the main plot, and only a little in his sub-plot romance with the (white) female lead. Even there, it’s not a major obstacle, and their relationship will proceed smoothly and happily. Being Black in England during that time, he has been exposed to racism and prejudice which has affected his character in various ways, but while this will be touched on as part of his general background, but won’t be a theme. The book is set in a remote location and he socially outranks everyone he meets there, except the female lead, who is his social equal. Everyone takes his position of ‘gentleman’ at face value and treats him accordingly, which he accepts from them as a matter of course as his due. There is no slavery in his or his family’s backgrounds. His grandparents were well-to-do in their countries of origin, and decided to move to England to be well-to-do here because it suited them to do so (this part is based on research and I believe that the family history I have constructed is historically plausible).

The reason I am writing is that I keep getting stuck on the idea that the whole thing falls into the ‘nobody asked for this’ category. I’ve gone over my plans and character concepts in some detail with a sensitivity reader, who came back with the verdict that the character/story was 'perfectly appropriate’ for me to write. If I do write it, I will obviously continue to work with them, but right now I’m really stuck on the thought that just because it’s technically okay for me to write the character, doesn’t mean anybody actually wants to read it. I mean, there’s literally no reason for the character to be Black, other than that he is. I can’t justify it, I am not trying to 'say’ anything by or about it. He came about because I had the whole rest of the story and characters ready to go, but just couldn’t 'get’ the male lead, who I assumed at the time to be white. Then I saw something about trying out characters as other races or genders, and suddenly there he was, fully formed.  

To be completely honest, if I’m wandering around a bookshop and see a new historical novel with Black leads, the first thing I look at is the author page. So far (in my actual experience of walking around bookshops), the authors have always been Black themselves, at which point I get excited and usually buy the book*. Honestly, if I saw a smiling white lady who looked like me on the back page, I would almost certainly go 'pfft, what does she know/who does she think she is’ and put it back down, which is pretty much the same reaction I have when I think about this prospective book of my own. On the other hand, I’m super attached to this character now and really want to write him!

*Also, I note that the characters in those books usually (always, in my actual physical 'walking around bookshops’ experience) have their roots in slavery one way or another, and now I feel weird that mine doesn’t, like I’m ignoring something I shouldn’t be?

Write the story! 

Given the popularity of books and shows like Bridgerton, there is clearly an audience for it. I’ve also heard of a similar book and show release called Mr. Malcolm’s List.

Black characters in history don’t need an excuse to exist. Unfortunately, the average reader may call for an explanation, especially if the character is not a slave or servant. For this reason, it’s helpful to give them a background that “explains the why.” No need to dwell on it, but you can just “place it there.” without making a big fuss on their existence. The background you depicted, for example, is enough.

This is to get it out of the way due to the racial bias-embedded questioning that suspends some readers' belief (bleh). It’s too bad, but reality at the moment.  

If Jane Austen could write a Black woman heiress in 1817, why can’t authors do this today without folks bumbling and mumbling about “historical accuracy”? 

Georgiana Lambe, Black West Indian heiress in Jane Austin’s unfinished novel turned television series, Sandition 

For similar reasons, it’s good to describe characters physically and to do it early, as characters that are not described are often defaulted to being white.

All that being said: 

This does not mean you need to give in to giving them a slavery-based history. That’s where accommodations for reader bias ends. We. do. not. always. gotta be slaves! Please explore the rich and varied history of the African diaspora. Black history doesn’t need to begin or end with slavery. These are important stories and important history, but not the only, single story, not the only, single history.

Romance 

Some things to keep in mind: Black men / white women relationships shouldn’t have to be the default. 

From a representation standpoint, there’s a lack of:

Black men in (healthy, equal) relationships with dark skinned women, particularly Black women

Black women in (healthy, equal) relationships with any race (Black, interracial or no)

Other Black, Indigenous, People of Color in historical stories and romances overall

Including some more of those groups could be a great idea. You could always give your character a sister, brother, cousins, BIPOC friends, etc.

As for you being a white author

This puts you under higher scrutiny of getting things right. You may also have people who will question and ignore the book for that reason alone. I’m personally not one of those people, and I know a lot of other people just want a good story that is inclusive and well-written. Remain open to constructive criticism and feedback, but do not feel as if you’re not “allowed” to write BIPOC protagonists and love interests. Build it, and they will come!

Still, whenever you get a chance, please do boost and support your fellow Authors of Color, as their stories are often overlooked by publishers in favor of those by white authors. 

~Mod Colette

[sheep-from-rad]

I have a request but it’s stupid and idk if you do silly stuff if not totally understand and wish you a nice day.

If you do which 18+ Genshin characters would find it fun or react in a silly playful way if their s/o or just female friend (and the characters established they were okay with it) liked to put their boobs ontop of their head like a hat like they are sitting down and just bam boob hat

Thank you if you do this for dealing with my stupidity

Genshin x Reader: Boob Hat Note: Yes I do write 18+ fics and welcome to my inbox! This is long so I might go make part 2 or even 3. Warnings: I did my best to make this gender neutral but I don’t think I’m done right. Also Suggestive themes. Claustrophobia on Kaeya’s part. Masterlists

Zhongli Zhongli being admired by people is not an unusual event. He somehow always finds himself surrounded by people either wanting to learn about a history of something or simply someone who just wanted someone to talk to. Today however is one of those days. A young woman bats her eyelashes owlishly as she pretends to listen to Zhongli's tales. The woman has her collar dangerously low, arms crossing the boundaries of what people knew as personal space. It’s not the first time that this has happened. I mean, who doesn’t get attracted? Amber eyes that look molten gold when hit by gentle sunrays, silky hair falling like ribbons at his back, not to mention the rare smile. 

While you love that he’s being admired by people, you just hate the way the woman is basically draping herself on him. You placed down the lotus roots that you gathered in the nearby lake before quietly running behind them. “Darling!” Zhongli was momentarily stopped from drinking his tea as he felt your arms around his form, warmth enveloping him slowly. But it wasn’t your arms or your warmth that made him stop but rather the soft mounds that were placed on his head by the way you’re positioned behind him. 

“Who is this woman?” the woman said, batting her eyelashes once more. Zhongli burrows his head further to your chest discreetly but the smirk on his lips gives it off anyway. “I’m his partner. Who are you?” The woman gasped, looking scandalised. “Could you repeat that for me?” She looked at Zhongli for confirmation but he only leaned on your chest even more.  “I’m his partner. Who are you?” you pressed on the word ‘partner’. The woman gave you a glare before leaving. 

Zhongli placed the teacup down and gently looked up. “You know if you’re jealous you could have just said so”, he said in which you replied. “You know if you like my chest on your head so much and then you could just ask me.” You gently hit his shoulder as he laughed at the statement, removing yourself on him as you collected the lotus roots that will be cooked for later. 

Kaeya When he said he wants to take you out for a date, you don’t think that this is the one that he has in mind. The two of you were on your way for a trip but stopped by Jean for an emergency mission. The domain looks normal at first until you two reach the last room and there you two are: pressed against each other with the walls slowly closing in and suffocating you both. “When we get out of here, I’ll take you on a better date”, he teased. His forehead is starting to sweat because of the air slowly becoming thin. 

You remembered the last domain that you and Amber explored. It was just like this one but the puzzles of it are more on the open which made it easy for the two of you to get out. You let out the sharp gasp as the wall pressed you further together. You looked left and right to find whatever can help until you saw it glow bright. “Kaeya lift me up”, you said, earning a confused look from the male. “If you move right now that will immediately make us pancakes!” 

You looked up to his eyes and he sighed. “I’ll use my sword as a buffer for the walls. Climb up immediately.” Kaeya struck his sword in between the walls. He trusts that the sword will be strong enough to make the compression slower. Kaeya placed his arms on your thighs lifting you up but trying not to move much as he tries his best as well to make the wall compress slower. 

Your hand reached for the metal lever that looks glittering in low light. It’s either going to compress you both or stop the walls from doing so but what other choice do you have? As your fingers tugged it down, the sound of the walls closing into each other stopped. Kaeya let out a breath of relief before his hand reached for his sword, not remembering that you are positioned on top of him. 

He looked up as you let out a yelp, arms immediately catching your form. Kaeya’s vision immediately was covered when soft mounds hit his face. You open your eyes and find yourself still up but your companion is not responding nor making any move. “Kaeya?” You looked down and your face rose in temperature. You guess that he was supposed to look up but stopped midway when you fell on him, well, on top of him. Your bosom rested comfortably on his face and he hasn’t said any word since. “This is a bad date to begin with but that’s not a bad reward.” Diluc     You’re bored. Well, it’s an understatement considering that boredom is already eating all the logical cells in your brain. Kaeya is off to Liyue for a mission. He was supposed to be there a month ago but he got grounded after he accidentally lost sight of Klee who made the oven at Good Hunter explode. Amber’s replacing the missing posters that was messed up by the rain and Eula is not an option because she has the habit of just appearing and disappearing like Rosaria. Hillie and Moco are fun but you really don’t want to intrude on their business which means… Diluc is the last one you can bother with. 

    You got up from your bed from the second floor but didn’t leave the room without giving a nod to the traveller and Paimon. You volunteered on coming with them as a companion because the chasm exploration left them struggling to go back to Mondstadt. As you go down the staircase, you find Diluc talking to Elzer . “Diluc!” you called softly. 

    Diluc paused on talking upon hearing you call but only to continue discussing things with Elzer. You silently hopped behind him and continued on calling but he gave you no response. You poked him but there was no avail. You blew air on his ear but no avail. Elzer gave you a sympathetic look but Diluc only continued on discussing the papers. 

    You sighed before leaning on the red head, your chest resting on his crown. “What are you doing?” Diluc finally spoke. He tried to focus back on the papers but you only leaned more and now resting your whole body weight on your chest. His face was slowly becoming the colour of Jueyen peppers and Elzer could only smile. “It’s best if I show the proposal to Charles first, sir. I will report back before night falls.” 

    Elzer took the papers back to the brown folder and left the premises. “What do you think you’re doing?” Diluc asked once again, his face hidden but bears the same colour as his hair. “Do I have your attention now?”

Taglist: @chihawari / @zuri-feather / @tinandabin @eccedentesiast-sapphic /

[readwithlivvy]

tw// r*pe, r@cism, misogyny

let's talk about piper and hazel.

first, let's consider frank and leo, the other only confirmed poc out of the seven. they are both fully chinese and mexican, respectively, while hazel and piper are mixed race.

riordan's justification of that is that they are mixed because of their godly parents. however, this doesn't happen to frank and leo and it's never explained why they're not mixed either.

piper and hazel also have very eurocentric features, for example piper has:

colour-changing eyes that are usually blue or green

lighter skin

hazel has

cinnamon coloured hair (practically red)

gold eyes

light skin

now all of this can be traced to their godly parents, the colour-changing eyes for aphrodite changing her looks, the gold eyes for pluto's power over riches. but it's conveniently forgotten that riordan said that demigods don't get any dna from their godly parents.

he uses that excuse for allowing demigods to be in relationships without it being considered inc*st and then said that the gods don't have any other dna they pass down to their kids except for powers, which makes sense.

then, he contradicts himself by saying that hazel and piper are mixed because of their godly parents. this, to me, doesn't make any sense except if for he wanted to justify the fact that he made two woc half white without taking into consideration that in his own writing that was impossible.

why he chose to do that, i really don't know. i don't know if he thought that non-white features aren't beautiful, or maybe his characters should stand out by having "magical" features that are linked to their godly parents.

i also don't know what this didn't relate to leo and frank, who don't have light coloured eyes or eurocentric features. and honestly, i don't want to make accusations that will make people mad.

but to me it seems that his reasoning is rooted in misogyny, that the women need to be partially or fully white to be seen as beautiful and men's looks don't matter and therefore their race doesn't matter.

riordan always feels the need to to comment on the looks of the women in his series, like how annabeth looks beautiful in battle, and how "embarrassingly low cut" piper's dress is. he often sexualized his female characters, as seen when he described piper as "softly curved in all the right places", or her claiming scene, or making annabeth accidentally say something about flashing leo.

he also doesn't do his research, at all. piper cuts her hair, puts feathers in it, and carries around a cornucopia. he makes her half cherokee, while ignoring that you can't be half cherokee. he sexualizes her, an indigenous girl, while ignoring the history of indigenous women and girls being r*aped by white men.

^^also the thing about piper cutting her hair, he did that while there's history of young indigenous children being taken from their families and having their hair cut off even though it's sacred for them. it was horrible for riordan to include this

hazel was alive during the segregation. she should have some trauma from that. she comes back alive to the modern world and she adjusted immediately, with her life when racism was incredibly prominent being ignored. there's one single comment about her grandmother being a slave, but that's completely glossed over and put in for comedic purposes.

i understand that riordan is a middle aged white man, but he should at least be able to read and learn about the cultures and people he's writing about.

even if he doesn't want to do this intentionally, his writing is woven with misogyny and racism and i think he should be held accountable without him saying that it's a fantasy world and he can do what he wants.