#south african doctor

[dreaminginwonderlands]

A youth perspective

Democratic South Africa is 30 years old now – a fully-fledged adult in my eyes. Our country is in its third decade and has indeed faced the trials and tribulations of young adulthood. She has taken her time to navigate the journey and she has emerged victoriously, perhaps slightly bruised but most definitely not broken. She has used the values upon which she was raised to give power to the…

[yourdailyqueer]

Joseph Sonnabend (deceased)

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay

DOB: 6 January 1933 

DOD: 24 January 2021

Ethnicity: Ashkenazi Jewish

Nationality: South African

Occupation: Doctor, scientist, researcher, AIDS activist

Note: One of the first physicians to notice among his gay male patients the immune deficiency that would later be named AIDS. During the height of the AIDS crisis, Sonnabend helped create several AIDS organisations.

[southafricahunks]

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

also honestly lbr doctor who has a ceiling to how much it can do anyway politically sdlkfjsd it will fundamentally, always be a British, bbc-led (!!!) show with "white man's burden" / space colonial fiction written in its DNA. i think if ppl realized that they could lower their expectations a little and enjoy the (~problematic~) ride more lol

[charminglygrouped]

One of the major legacies of the British control of India was the planting of peoples of Indian origin all over the British Empire, including Britain itself. India was considered to be a reservoir of cheap labour. After African slavery was legally ended in 1833, ‘indentured’ labourers were recruited from India to work on plantations in Mauritius, Guyana, Trinidad, and Jamaica. This was slavery in a new guise: many laboured under conditions no less degrading than slavery. Thereafter wherever need arose, Indian labour was employed. Indians worked in the plantations and mines in Ceylon, Malaya, Burma, South Africa and Fiji. Indian labour provided the manpower to build the East African Railway. Indian sailors worked the British merchant navy. Indian soldiers not only helped to maintain the British Raj in India, but were used as cannon fodder overseas in colonial wars of conquest to extend its frontiers.

Indians were brought to Britain too. They did not come as ‘indentured’ labourers, but the principle of cheap labour applied here as well. Many Indian servants and ayahs (nannies or ladies’ maids) were brought over by British families returning from India. Indian sailors were employed by the East India Company to work on its ships. Some of these servants and sailors settled permanently in Britain.

One of the results of the policy of introducing western education in India was that, from about the middle of the nineteenth century, many Indian students began arriving in Britain, some on scholarships, to study law or medicine or to prepare for other professions. Some came to take the exami­nation for entry into the Indian civil service since this exami­nation could only be taken in London. Some Indian students settled in Britain after qualifying, to practise as doctors, lawyers or in other professions. Some Indian business firms opened branches in England. Nationalist politicians came to London, the centre of power, to argue the cause of Indian freedom. Indian princes and maharajahs visited England, not only as guests of the Crown on formal occasions, like the coronations, but also to pay their ‘respects’ to the monarch or for pleasure. London, as the metropolitan capital, attracted many visitors from India. Exhibitions of Indian arts and crafts were displayed in England too. The Asian presence in Britain therefore goes a long way back and forms a prelude to the post-independence migration of Asians to Britain.

— Rozina Visram, Ayahs, Lascars and Princes: Indians in Britain, 1700-1947 (London: 1986), pp. 9-10.

[mithliya]

it always emotionally devastates me when i think about the nightmare that so many eastern lesbians are living. the lesbian in a village in uzbekistan who had to marry a man bc the whole village started to gossip about her lesbianism and then committed suicide 2 months later. the butch lesbian in bahrain that told me her mom took her to a doctor who said she needs to undergo hormone therapy to “fix” her lesbianism and masculinity (& the lesbian believes this too). the african lesbian (she didn’t state her country) who pretended to date a man to gain her family’s approval, only for that man to rape her and give her HIV. the lesbians living in villages in lebanon that eventually have to marry a man, or find a way to escape their country before they’re forced into a het marriage. the lesbians in south africa who face high rates of “corrective” rape. we have to endure such horrors simply because our societies cannot accept us being women exclusively attracted to women. the combination of lacking rights and autonomy as a woman and facing violent homophobia makes us such a vulnerable yet invisible group. and despite that, our invisibility means our struggles are downplayed by every side.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"The nighttime brings promises I can't keep

Givin' in is the one thing that I don't need

Got ahead of myself, gotta retrace my steps'

Cause I lost me the moment I took a piece of you

And you may never believe, but I'm sorry

I never meant for it to go this way (this way)

Only wanted the best and I'm stickin' to my story

This was a moment for me, and this was all it could be"

Destin Conrad & Alex Isley –"Same Mistake"

The state of mental disarray Celeste lived in would've broken the average woman. Having a feral pack of vampires follow her home brought on a fear so acute that she fled her cottage that same night and stayed with Mercy until the next morning.

She didn't tell her friend about the encounter, knowing she'd be packed off to a mental ward, or at least temporarily placed under observation at the hospital where Mercy worked as a nurse.

Mercy wasn't stupid.

She sensed immediately that Celeste's distress was beyond the made-up story about a burglar trying to break into her house. Crime happened a lot in the Easy, and any normal person would call the cops and bitch about soaring crime rates. Nothing would come of it, anyway. Outside of homicide, the NOLA police department wasn't known to haul ass for a B&E —breaking and entering. Mercy's suspicions were affirmed by the way Celeste acted, peeking out of the window every half hour like the time an old boyfriend before Freddie harassed her with stalking and drive-bys to her old apartment. All of her clique knew Terry left the city. She told them he had his job to get back to and things weren't going to pan out long distance. Mercy's lips poked out like she was itching to know if Terry was the problem and the reason for running off to her place in the middle of the night.

Celeste slept on the couch in Mercy's apartment and stayed indoors there while her friend left early for work. Daytime was a safe time. Isn't that what the vampire myths claimed it to be? She stared at the old bite wounds on her neck, thigh, and breasts. How could she be so blind to what they were? Terry had her so twisted up in the fog of lust that she glossed over proof that bloodsuckers were fucking real.

She groaned and closed her eyes. Terry manipulated her trust to feed from her.

New Orleans was the popular gothic home of vampire lore in the south. Countless books, movies, TV shows and the like centered it as the breeding ground for supernatural creatures. People made stories about monsters to scare children into being obedient. Bloody Mary. The Boo Hag. Zombies. Shit, even Voodoo still gave folks around those parts the heebie-jeebies even though white people turned it into a commercial joke. They sold Voodoo donuts, Voodoo dolls, and even ran up and down the French Quarter pretending to be Voodoo Witch Doctors giving graveyard tours to visit Madame Marie Laveau.

Like her ancestors before her, Celeste knew Vodun was real. Hoodoo was real. African retentions stayed rooted in the diaspora, and New Orleans was the most African city in America, witnessing unspeakable horrors done to Black people. White people were monsters bringing them to southern American shores. Surely their monstrosity enabled wickedness to flourish on southern soil and everywhere else. Her people danced at carnival, dressed as skeletons, and masked to hide their true selves. What better city to feed in than one that openly courted secrecy, excess, and spooky vibes? If people disappeared or turned up dead, the law and society could blame it on American's natural inclination to be violent with one another…not anything supernatural.

Vampires walked among them.

She swiped the cracked screen of her smartphone, looking up old wives' tales about Terry's kind. None of them supported anything he would be averse to. He had a reflection in the mirror. Crosses didn't bother him. He shook a priest's hand and didn't freak out. Never even flinched when she wore her gold cross necklace. She fed him garlic in the shrimp she cooked. The only things that tripped her up was that he walked around in the daytime, and she never saw him with fangs. Obviously, his teeth were sharp enough to break her skin, but regular human teeth could do that.

Maybe he was a familiar.

Dracula had Renfield. Maybe Terry was The Deacon's Renfield, luring people to their doom.

Celeste rubbed her scalp and swallowed down the anger festering in her chest. She'd made a mistake trusting Terry. She let a pretty boy's face and five-star Michelin dick trick her into submission of diabolical evil. The only saving grace was Terry's absence from her life, and whatever else ran around the Easy that scared the vampires away. She heard them say Old Ones. Perhaps that's what landed on her roof, causing the bloodsuckers to flee. Whatever it was, it didn't harm her, so she had one less monster to worry about.

As long as she stayed active during the day and locked herself in for the night, the vampires couldn't touch her. Had they wanted her dead or sucked dry, they would've done it days ago when she came home from work at night. They seduced people easily. Moved fast. It wouldn't take much to kill her on a dark street. They wanted her alive for a reason: to get Terry.

She texted Mercy and told her she felt better about going home. Made up a story about getting a burglar alarm. While driving to her small neighborhood in Marigny, she kept her neck on swivel to check for suspicious activity. She spent the rest of her time sleeping. She was so tired lately. Fatigue came easy.

Come nightfall, she turned all the lights on in the house and carried a sharp meat-carving knife on her. In her bedroom, she watched the news on her laptop, feeling drowsy. She typed in the words Shelby Springs into the Google search bar and tried to figure out where Terry came from. He claimed that he lived not too far from the place where his cousin was murdered. Three other parishes surrounded Shelby Springs. Typing Terry's name in the search engine brought up pictures of other Terry Richmonds, all white and mostly old.

Going another route, Celeste typed in the name Michael Simmons with Shelby Springs, and a slew of articles filled her screen. She read about a corrupt police force and an attempted coverup. Not one article mentioned Terry's name. Stranger still, four of the officers involved in the corruption scandal had disappeared months after being charged to stand trial. The only members of the force still around happened to be a Black woman who was set to testify against her fellow officers. She quit the force and refused to comment on any of the charges with the media. Celeste wrote her name down: Officer Jessica Sims. A second officer, who had been shot by his own Police Chief, made a move across the country to work at another police force.

If Terry went to help his cousin, surely Officer Sims would have information about his address, or at least the name of the parish he came from. Celeste stared at the screen. Officer Sims' round face looked haunted by something.

Another thought occurred to her, and she grabbed her cell phone. She called her cousin Butchie, who was friends with Travis.

"Butchie, can you text me Travis's number? I need to ask him something."

"About?" Butchie drawled on the other end.

"None of your business."

Butchie sucked his teeth and twenty seconds later, Travis X's number appeared on her screen. She typed it in fast, hitting the send button.

"Who dis?"

"Is that how you answer your phone? It's me, Duchess."

"Sister Celeste? What's going on?"

"Can you tell me, or ask your brother, where Terry lives?"

"Who?"

"Terry. Terry Richmond."

"Who dat?"

"Whatchu mean who dat? Your friend you brought to the Indian practice last month…your brother Scubbie's marine buddy. The one with the green eyes."

"Scubbie was never in the marines and I didn't bring anybody to the bar with green eyes. Have you been smoking that funny herb?"

"He came with you outside when you lit up my cigarette. The pretty boy."

Travis stayed silent.

"Never mind. Sorry to bother you. I thought maybe you knew him. Goodnight."

Celeste tapped her cell phone against her thigh. Terry used Travis to get next to her. He probably induced some type of hypnotic state like those vampires tried to do at her house… Jedi mind-tricked Travis into letting him hang with them. Once he was no longer needed, the memory of Terry faded from his mind.

She shut off the laptop and curled into a ball with the knife in front of her face. Resting her fingers on the handle, she made plans to visit Shelby Springs the next time she had another two consecutive days off.

Celeste drank a red bull to perk herself up for work at the elder care facility. The new client who moved into Miss Irma's old room was a cranky white man who never seemed satisfied with his care there. He often complained that his room was cold and drafty.

"There's no draft and your room faces the garden, the sunniest and warmest part of the building," Celeste said, helping Mr. Crawley with the door so he could move with his walker better to get inside his room.

"I'm telling you people I have a draft in my room and it's too cold, even when I turn up the heat. I pay too much money for this place not to have controlled temperatures," Crawley said.

"May I suggest wearing one of your nice sweaters?" she said.

Celeste grit her teeth, listening to Crawley go off, but she assisted him and nodded her head as his list of complaints grew. She helped him sit at the desk near the window where he wanted to write letters and his autobiography. He probably complained about his life there, too.

"You feel that?" he said.

Crawley held his hand out toward the closed window where sunlight created a square of light on the teal carpet. He grabbed her hand and forced it into the light.

"See?" he said, his pale blue eyes pleading with her to pay attention.

She stood with her fingers splayed out, dust motes floating in the bright light. Where warmth should've been, there was only a cold spot. She moved her hand in different areas around the window and there was definitely an icy chill that shouldn't have been there. Glancing up at the air conditioner vent, she didn't hear it working at that moment. Only the fan whirred, giving a pleasant circulation of air.

"I feel the cold air, Mr. Crawley. I don't know what I can do about it. Is it bothering you?"

"If it stayed in that one spot it wouldn't be a problem." He leaned in conspiratorially, and she moved closer to him. "But it moves around."

"Moves around?"

Crawley's tone of voice lowered, and he genuinely looked agitated by Celeste's facial expression.

"The cold moves around in here," he said.

She glanced at the window and reached her hand into the suspect area. The sun warmed her hand up. The cold spot was gone.

"See? I told you. Now it's all warm and normal again, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

Celeste retrieved a sweater from the hook on the door and placed it on the back of Crawley's seat.

"I'll be back to take you to lunch," Celeste said.

She left the room and worked without incident until she walked down the hallway carrying a bag of collected trash and passed near Crawley's room. A large, cold spot sat in front of his door. The chill startled Celeste. The air in the building had slightly warmed up, but not enough to need the air-conditioning blasting more than it was. She walked through an icy gust and gasped at the sudden drop in temperature. Crawley's door was open. He furiously scribbled at his desk. Celeste moved back and forth between coolness and frigid air. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed someone walking toward the employee break room.

Miss Irma.

Celeste stood cemented to the floor, and Miss Irma turned a corner and glanced back at her. A male co-worker pushed a cart of meds down the hall and stared at Celeste's confused face.

"You alright, Celeste?"

"Did you see someone walk past you?"

"Just now?"

"Yes."

"Nope."

She didn't want to walk down the hall. Ignoring a dead woman should've been easy, but Celeste moved along the corridor close to the wall. When she reached the corner, she prayed no one would be there.

"Oh thank God," she sighed, seeing another empty hallway.

She left the building out of the side door to throw away the trash in the dumpster outside. A supervisor named Diane met her back inside the break room. Diane snacked on a bag of chips and a bottle of coke.

"Celeste, can you get in touch with Terry Richmond? He hasn't returned my calls to collect his grandmother's personal effects," Diane said.

"I haven't spoken to him in a long time."

"Well…his grandmother has boxes in our storage room and I'd hate to throw it out. The clothes we can donate to Goodwill, but there are photo albums and books—"

"I'll take them to him. I get off at five."

"You will? That would be great. Do you have time now to get it and put it in your car? I can help you. Mr. Richmond was told that we can hold items for thirty-days and he said he would get them before he left the city. It's been past the deadline."

Celeste followed Diane to the large storage room, and in the back were four medium-sized boxes and two bags of clothes. They took two trips to her car, and she squeezed all the boxes in the back seat and the passenger side. She dumped the contents of an over-sized box into the trunk and folded it up to reuse later at her home.

"Thank you so much. This makes me feel so much better. There are photos and all kinds of irreplaceable things in them. I'd hate to see them dumped in the garbage," Diane said.

"No problem. I'll keep them at my house and he can pick them up the next time I see him."

Diane left her alone. Celeste grabbed her smokes from the glove compartment and took an extra break. She hid herself in the garden and sat on one of the wooden benches. Seeing Miss Irma unearthed troublesome emotions. She worried that her mind was teetering on the verge of mental collapse from the stress and fear. Seeing ghosts on top of vampires was too much. Puffing and fretting, Celeste closed her eyes. Feeling dizzy, she leaned forward, hanging her head between her legs. Goosebumps pricked her skin as the temperature dropped abruptly around her. She shivered in the direct blazing sunlight.

"It's the baby making you feel sick," an elderly female voice said.

Celeste kept her eyes closed and head low, too afraid to open them or move. Reeling, she prayed silently and hoped that she wouldn't pass out.

"Don't be afraid. You know I won't hurt you…I just have to talk to you."

Celeste opened her eyes and focused her attention on the grass beneath her feet. She looked slightly to her right and noticed a pair of feet encased in pretty yellow house slippers. Moving her gaze higher, she recognized the simple pink floral dress, and the pale wrinkled hands.

"I'm scared," Celeste said.

The hand of a dead woman pulled her up, and they looked at one another eye to eye on the bench.

"Is this real? Or am I losing my mind?" Celeste asked.

Miss Irma's eyes twinkled. She looked more alive and vibrant than her last days at the assisted living facility.

"Your mind is fine, baby. Just fine."

"You're really a ghost, then?"

"That indeed. May I?"

Miss Irma pointed to Celeste's stomach. Celeste sat back.

"You want to touch me?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Miss Irma rested her soft hand on Celeste's belly. The warmth she exuded seemed so real. Ghosts were supposed to be smoky and floaty. Miss Irma sat next to her like the most solid and alive person on the planet.

"Well, now…Papa didn't waste no time," Miss Irma said.

"What are you talking about?"

"You are pregnant, child. It's still early, but you are about to become a mama for my great-granddaddy."

"That can't be true."

"Getting pregnant?"

"Terry being your great-granddaddy…he's not even…he's not…"

"You know it's true. I can see in your eyes you know his secret…what he is. On this side, they tell me that you've done the impossible, so now I must tell you something important…something I was too weak to say before I died."

Miss Irma cradled Celeste's hands, which shook so badly that the ghost had to clamp them down tight between her palms.

"You have my things. Look through them so you may know Papa's story. He was human once upon a time ago. I spent my long life documenting all I could for my grandson Michael, but he's gone and can't hold the secret for our family. Papa wanted me to tell his story. But my mind started fading and I couldn't finish my work. Now you have become my family, Celeste. There are beings in the world who mean Papa harm… and your baby, too. They hide in plain sight in other places, but because Papa came back here, they might come for him."

"Other vampires?"

"Les Gargouilles…gargoyles. They will seek him out and kill him. Their kind are enemies to Papa. Enemies to that child if they find out about you carrying a vampire's baby."

"I've seen a few gargoyle statues in the Quarter that were never here before."

"Oh no, then it may be too late."

Miss Irma rose from her seat and looked off into the distance. She paced in front of Celeste.

"They're not active in the daytime, so you're safe, even when they hunt at night. I've tracked many during my lifetime taking pictures of them all over the world. They protect humans and won't harm you because you're a child of God. The baby will be safe until it's born and out of your body…oh no…oh no…"

Miss Irma looked at her hands. They began to disintegrate, starting at her fingertips.

"Celeste! He loves you…he—"

Miss Irma's body broke apart and floated away like the graying ash of a dying fire.

Too stunned to move, Celeste sat on the bench for the rest of her shift. She wandered away only when the sun went down. Climbing into her car, she thought of what to do with the information given to her. After an hour of sitting in her driver's seat, she drove herself to the drugstore and bought an early detection pregnancy kit.

At home, she tested herself twice.

She was positive both times.

Chapter 11 HERE.

Masterlist

Taglist:

@nahimjustfeeling-writes

@planetblaque

@kindofaintrovert

@thedondada05

@blackburnbook

@avoidthings

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[thebusylilbee]

the doctors and nurses are Hamas, the journalists are Hamas, the one day old palestinian babies are Hamas, the black south africans are Hamas, the arabs are Hamas, the irish people as a whole are Hamas, the native americans are Hamas, the United Nations are Hamas, the dick that refuses to get hard when an impotent zionist soldier wants to fuck is Hamas, the rain that falls on a zionist and ruins their hair for the day is Hamas, the furniture against which a zionist stubs their toe is Hamas, the disappointing reflection a zionist sees in the mirror is Hamas, it is ALL Hamas.

[mimi-0007]

𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗔 𝗝𝗨𝗟𝗜𝗔 𝗛𝗔𝗬𝗪𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗥 (1858-1964)

Anna Julia Haywood Cooper was a writer, teacher, and activist who championed education for African Americans and women. Born into bôndage in 1858 in Raleigh, North Carolina, she was the daughter of an enslaved woman, Hannah Stanley, and her owner, George Washington Haywood.

In 1867, two years after the end of the Civil Wàr, Anna began her formal education at Saint Augustine’s Normal School and Collegiate Institute, a coeducational facility built for former slàves. There she received the equivalent of a high school education.

Anna Haywood married George A.G. Cooper, a teacher of theology at Saint Augustine’s, in 1877. When her husband died in 1879, Cooper decided to pursue a college degree. She attended Oberlin College in Ohio on a tuition scholarship, earning a BA in 1884 and a Masters in Mathematics in 1887. After graduation Cooper worked at Wilberforce University and Saint Augustine’s before moving to Washington, D.C. to teach at Washington Colored High School. She met another teacher, Mary Church (Terrell), who, along with Cooper, boarded at the home of Alexander Crummell, a prominent clergyman, intellectual, and proponent of African American emigration to Liberia.

Cooper published her first book, A Voice from the South by a Black Woman of the South, in 1892. In addition to calling for equal education for women, A Voice from the South advanced Cooper’s assertion that educated African American women were necessary for uplifting the entire black race. The book of essays gained national attention, and Cooper began lecturing across the country on topics such as education, civil rights, and the status of black women. In 1902, Cooper began a controversial stint as principal of M Street High School (formerly Washington Colored High). The white Washington, D.C. school board disagreed with her educational approach for black students, which focused on college preparation, and she resigned in 1906.

In addition to working to advance African American educational opportunities, Cooper also established and co-founded several organizations to promote black civil rights causes. She helped found the Colored Women’s League in 1892, and she joined the executive committee of the first Pan-African Conference in 1900. Since the Young Women’s Christian Association (YWCA) and the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA) did not accept African American members, she created “colored” branches to provide support for young black migrants moving from the South into Washington, D.C.

Cooper resumed graduate study in 1911 at Columbia University in New York City, New York. After the death of her brother in 1915, however, she postponed pursuing her doctorate in order to raise his five grandchildren. She returned to school in 1924 when she enrolled at the University of Paris in France. In 1925, at the age of 67, Cooper became the fourth African American woman to obtain a Doctorate of Philosophy.

In 1930, Cooper retired from teaching to assume the presidency of Frelinghuysen University, a school for black adults. She served as the school’s registrar after it was reorganized into the Frelinghuysen Group of Schools for Colored People. Cooper remained in that position until the school closed in the 1950s.

Anna Julia Cooper dièd in 1964 in Washington, D.C. at the age of 105.

[dean-a-mean-tae]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ WITH 𓆩⟡𓆪 FAMILY ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Nicholas’s family and extended family on his mother’s side WARNINGS: Abusive family (doesn't go too into detail), misogynistic upbringings, mention car accident (speeds past it(pun not intended)), J&M's Lifestyles is a fake business. A dead fish and dog. Mention of break ups. Mention of Nolan and Tamaya's questionable parenting habits

NOLAN ROSS

✧. ┊ CONNECTION — Father ✧. ┊ DATE OF BIRTH — August 24, 1977 ✧. ┊ ZODIAC SIGN — Virgo ✧. ┊ ETHNICITY — Korean ✧. ┊ NATIONALITY — Korean ✧. ┊ OCCUPATION — Doctor

Nolan grew up with a loving family as an only child. He's named after his father's American friend who passed in a car accident. His parents were loving and tried raising him to be accepting and understanding of all genders and all sexualities. They don't know what went wrong. He left his hometown in South Korea to attend college to become a doctor, where he met his wife, Tamaya. When they married, he took her last name. He rarely visited home because of job and relationship with his parents.

Nolan's misogynistic views and narcissistic ways dictated how Nicholas and Lillian grew up. He restricted their childhoods from what he deemed evil or unfitting for "their characters". His relationship with his kids is close to non-existent. He's the reason Nicholas is so out of tune with his emotions and Lillian is so accepting of strangers.

When they moved back to South Korea, Nolan made sure they stayed away from his parents. He couldn't stop Lillian from speaking to them when they eventually met up in a store. Nolan's bond with his parents is completely shattered, but his children enjoyed running away to visit grandma on the weekends.

TAMAYA ROSS

✧. ┊ CONNECTION — Mother ✧. ┊ DATE OF BIRTH — February 20, 1977 ✧. ┊ ZODIAC SIGN — Pisces ✧. ┊ ETHNICITY — Black Hispanic ✧. ┊ NATIONALITY — African American ✧. ┊ OCCUPATION — Stay At Home Mom

Tamaya grew up the middle child of three children. Her older brother, Zion, and her younger sister, Latasha. Her mother was a stay at home mom and her father was a lawyer. He still found the time to be there for all of her kids and make his wife happy. Their marriage inspired Tamaya to have a happy relationship as a stay at home mom with at least two kids.

Sometimes she wonders what went wrong in her life. Her children would rather stay with either set of grandparents than live with her and Nolan. She loves her children, she's just scared of failure. Now she feels like she failed her children and her younger self. She knows nothing can undo life-long trauma, she still wants to apologize to her children and bond with them.

LILLIAN ROSS

✧. ┊ CONNECTION — Older Sister ✧. ┊ DATE OF BIRTH — May 10, 1998 ✧. ┊ ZODIAC SIGN — Taurus ✧. ┊ ETHNICITY — Afro-Korean ✧. ┊ NATIONALITY — American ✧. ┊ OCCUPATION — Barista at a cafe

Lillian is blunt, loud, and a bit of a bully to people she's fond of. At first, she envied Nicholas. He could do things Lillian wanted to do. Then she realized he was stuck in the same situation as her. She became soft with Nicholas, almost treating like he was fragile, until he visited her after being in Stray Kids for a while.

Trauma bonding at its finest. Lillian grew up allowed to do things Nicholas wanted to do and would teach him in secret. She made sure Nicholas didn't fall into their parents' harmful ways. Whenever their parents allowed Nichola to leave, he'd bring his sister, and she'd get him to meet her friends so they could help keep him from being "brainwashed" by their parents. Nicholas was the first person Lillian came out to as a lesbian.

JERMAINE ROSS

✧. ┊ CONNECTION — Grandfather ✧. ┊ DATE OF BIRTH — June 17, 1955 ✧. ┊ ZODIAC SIGN — Gemini ✧. ┊ ETHNICITY — African American ✧. ┊ NATIONALITY — African American ✧. ┊ OCCUPATION — Co-Owner of J&M's Lifestyles

Jermaine Ross. Father of three children, husband of Makayla Campbell, and co-owner of J&M's Lifestyles. After coming across MaKayla's journal of ideas for a business, he created her business, with her permission, and named it after them. 'J' for Jermaine and 'M' for Makayla. Though he wasn't as active in the kids lives as Makayla, he still took time off and built his schedule around his kids and their lives.

He wasn't the best parent, but he told his kids, "We're all learning this together." (we're all in this together) The kids always spoke their mind, they asked questions, and they did stupid things. Jermaine always let them do questionable things as long as it wasn't putting people in high danger. He wanted them to learn for themselves. Tamaya (Nicholas's mom) was a Daddy's Girl, spoiled but disciplined.

Jermaine used to visit Nicholas and Lillian after work. As he spoiled Tamaya, it was only natural that he spoiled her children, his grandchildren.

MAKAYLA CAMPBELL-ROSS

✧. ┊ CONNECTION — Grandmother ✧. ┊ DATE OF BIRTH — December 20, 1954 ✧. ┊ ZODIAC SIGN — Sagittarius ✧. ┊ ETHNICITY — Black-Hispanic ✧. ┊ NATIONALITY — African American ✧. ┊ OCCUPATION — Co-Owner of J&M's Lifestyles

Makayla Campbell. Mother of three kids, wife of Jermaine Ross, and co-owner of J&M's Lifestyles. Originally, Makayla wasn't operating the business. Legally, she was the co-owner, but she didn't actively participate. The company was based on her ideas and she was fine with Jermaine making her dream come true. In her mind, all of the money goes to her husband's account for him to spend it on his family. So why should she care? She doesn't.

The main reason she didn't participate is because of her children. She wanted a parent to stay with them while the other went to work, if both couldn't stay. When Zion and LaTasha told her they wanted to work in the company, she decided to step in as the co-owner.

When Nicholas was a toddler, and his parents didn't punish him for crying, he would always go to Makayla when he was sad. He'd ask his mother to call her so he could hear her voice to put him to sleep.

ZION CAMPBELL-ROSS

✧. ┊ CONNECTION — Uncle ✧. ┊ DATE OF BIRTH — November 2, 1974 ✧. ┊ ZODIAC SIGN — Scorpio ✧. ┊ ETHNICITY — Black-Hispanic ✧. ┊ NATIONALITY — African American ✧. ┊ OCCUPATION — Manager at J&M's Lifestyles

Zion Campbell-Ross. The oldest sibling out of Makayla and Jermaine's children. He lives in a single family home and works at his parent's shop. Occasionally, he'll visit his parents and youngest sister.

Zion was an active person in Nicholas's life, and continuously taught him basic life skills and how to treat others. Him and Lillian like to joke that his girlfriend was Lillian's lesbian awaking as it was obvious she had a child crush on the older woman when she was 6. After Lillian and Nicholas moved out of Tamaya's house, Zion stopped visiting.

Zion, Nicholas, and Lillian still keep in touch. They check in at least 8 times a month, and plan to see each other 3 or 4 times a year.

LATASHA CAMPBELL ROSS

✧. ┊ CONNECTION — Aunt ✧. ┊ DATE OF BIRTH — March 29, 1980 ✧. ┊ ZODIAC SIGN — Aries ✧. ┊ ETHNICITY — Black-Hispanic ✧. ┊ NATIONALITY — African American ✧. ┊ OCCUPATION — Influencer | Model for J&M's Lifestyles

LaTasha Campbell-Ross. The youngest of Makayla and Jermaine's children. She lives with her parents and works as an influencer and a model for her parents company. LaTasha looked up Tamaya until she married Nolan. Though she looked up to Tamaya, she followed Zion around. Latasha is also a Mama's Girl.

LaTasha has never wanted kids. The idea of giving birth scared her. She doesn't like the idea of being restricted and bound to a person's life. She liked wants to be The Aunt, and the person people could go to when they needed a break. She also just doesn't like kids.

LaTasha is the one who brought up the idea of Nicholas becoming a singer. With LaTasha is the second person Lillian came out to, and she helped her come out to the family.

A/N: I will not be doing Nolan's side of the family because they aren't important characters.

©️DEANAMEANTAE2024 | Nicholas Ross Master list

TAGS LIST: ...You can be added by asking in the replies, sending me a message, or doing an ask thingy.

[diejager]

Not the same anon. But there is an anti-rape device a woman invented, that has hooked or barbed blades that the rapist can only have removed surgically in a hospital.

And OMG, I would love to read if you write it. Konig or Horangi just having they're karma. Mhm yesss!

Do yo mean this thing???

That was the only one I could find, it mentioned a South African doctor inventing it. Something about the anti-rape condom? I don’t know how it works and I don’t think I want to know unless it for knowledge or curiosity, but it is an interesting creation.

[slippinmickeys]

DM prompt from astrophile: “POL; where are they when they find out about Emily?”

She hears the soft flap of the tent lift and drop, his scratchy shuffle as he sets down his equipment bag, as he kicks off his shoes. There is the whisper of the mosquito net billowing as he slips through it and then the thin mattress dips. She rolls toward him, presses a hand to his warm back. He’s been in the bush for 16 days.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” he says, leaning down to kiss her. His breath is soft and peppery, and on his shirt she smells dust, the sweet scent of the gardenias that ring the camp along with a brief, sharp popcorn whiff of leopard piss.

“I was awake,” she says.

“You okay?” he asks, groaning slightly as he settles in beside her. He sleeps on the ground out there, and his bones aren’t what they were in his twenties.

“Mm,” she hums. How to tell him? she thinks.

The day was blisteringly hot, but a low rumble of distant thunder promises some relief. The storm will be brewing up from the south and she can picture the anvil-head clouds rolling in over the savanna, as she catches the first whiff of ozone. Beyond the edge of the camp she can hear the snort of a wildebeest and the patter-thump sound of an impala herd gearing up for the excitement. The rain will bring relief, but sustenance, too. Life.

“How did it go out there?” she asks.

He rolls into her, throws a heavy leg over her knees, pulls her close.

“Great,” he sighs. “More than enough for the meerkat piece.”

“How about your stuff?” she asks. “Do you…have enough to publish?”

He can hear the odd tone in her voice, and lifts his head, props it on an elbow. The first wave of rain sweeps overhead, pattering softly onto the canvas above them.

“Scully, what’s going on?”

“There was an earthquake in Haiti,” she says. “DWB asked me, Rudolph, and Singh if we could go.”

“Short stint or long?”

“Hard to say,” she says. “You know how these things go.”

He hums an affirmative.

“I’d like you to come with me.”

They’ve spent alternating months apart since she started working with Doctors Without Borders, each of them necessarily okay with the separations. He has a couple more months here, contracted out to a Discovery Channel team. On his off time, he’s been shooting for an African collection he hopes to sell to Scholastic.

His forehead crinkles in concern. “Scully is there something-”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurts.

Mulder’s face freezes, but his eyes go soft.

[workingclasshistory]

On this day, 17 June 2015, the Charleston church massacre took place in South Carolina when a 21-year-old white supremacist murdered nine Black worshippers at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church. The racist entered the church during a Bible study group. After the session, the parishioners held hands in a prayer circle, at which point he pulled out a gun and began killing as many people as possible. Amongst the victims were Clementa C. Pinckney, 41; Cynthia Graham Hurd, 54; Susie J. Jackson, 87; Ethel Lee Lance, 70; DePayne Middleton-Doctor, 49; Tywanza Sanders, 26; Daniel L Simmons Sr., 74; Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, 45, and Myra Thompson, 59. Many people were angered by police double standards upon seeing the armed killer being peacefully apprehended by police, who then gave him a bullet-proof jacket and bought him a meal from Burger King. Whereas there had been a rash of police killings of unarmed Black people apprehended for much less serious alleged crimes, like Walter Scott who was shot to death after being spotted with a broken brake light. More information, sources and map: https://stories.workingclasshistory.com/article/8901/charleston-church-massacre https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=646238354216050&set=a.602588028581083&type=3

[labete-du-gevaudan]

This drawing of the Lake Tanganyika Monster was created by Philippe Coudray for his book, Guide des Animaux Cachés. This creature is said to reside in Lake Tanganyika in Burundi, a country in East Africa. The lake monster was supposedly first described in 1893. Joseph Augustus Moloney claimed that a Mpala missionary described a 30 foot long sea serpent in the waters. He later claimed to see the beast on the shore, sleeping. In 1907, a sighting by a South African police officer claimed that the creature had tusks or fangs and that it was amphibious. This helped support the original claim of the creature being seen in the water and on land.

German doctor M. V. Thierfelder claimed to have seen the beast in 1914, while he was working in the area during an epidemic. He said that the creature was at least 50 meters in length. He wrote:

"Suddenly, I saw coming from the lake, in the bay itself, something that I had never seen. It was a creature that looked like a monstrous serpent. However, it did not swim like snakes in horizontal movements, but its rings—I counted as many as six—rose vertically above the water. The animal arrived in the bay at a fairly brisk pace, and went straight to the vicinity of the rocky shore, on which I was lying motionless. [...]

The beast had neither legs, nor stumps, nor fins. Near the head, however, there were slender fin-like structures on either side. The colour of the animal was a bright brown; it had no scales, but was covered with a thick fleece. [...]

The head was difficult to make out because it only appeared fleetingly above the water, but it was not wider than the body and was not separated from it by a constriction. It was not like a serpent's head, but, rather, that of a mammal, a manatee for example. The mouth, however, appeared narrow and elongated.

After the giant beast had spent some time moving among the otters, it turned around and came out of the bay in majestic undulations."

[holly-natnicole]

the Bats 'n' Birds in my 'D.C.' (1937) franchise Alternate Multiverse rewrite timeline:

transgender polyamorous homoromantic asexual female Leslie Maurin Thompkins (deadname Samuel Xolani Thompkins) is a(n ethnically mostly white) South African through Mary Thompkins (who has an ethnically black biological father) and Thomas Jameson, her vigilante name (which she uses extremely rarely since Leslie almost never commits vigilantism) being Doctor (often shortened to Doc);

cisgender monogamous panromantic pansexual fem Julia Irene Alice Pennyworth is an Englishwoman through Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth (who is ethnically white) and Irene Rivers (who is ethnically black), her vigilante name (which she extremely rarely uses since there aren’t many situations where Julia would need to wear a mask to protect her identity) being Agent J;

cis aromantic ace male Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth is an (ethnically white) Englishman through Alice Pennyworth née Crane and Thaddeus Jarvis Pennyworth, his vigilante name (which he somewhat rarely uses since there aren’t many situations where Alfred would need to wear a mask to protect his identity) being Agent A;

trans mono gay homosexual male Cullen Row (deadname Holly Farrell) is a(n ethnically white) Gothamite through Miranda Farrell née Row and Marcus Farrell, his vigilante names (which he somewhat rarely uses since there aren’t many situations where Cullen would need to wear a mask to protect his identity) being Duckie & Mallard;

cis poly omniromantic omnisexual male Bruce Thomas Wayne is a Gothamite who is Jewish through Martha Wayne née Kane and ethnically white through Thomas Wayne, his vigilante name being Batman;

cis mono gay fem Katherine “Kate” Rebecca Kane is a Jewish Gothamite through Gabriela “Gabi” Kane née García and Jacob Kane, her vigilante name being Batwoman;

trans mono gay fem Mary Elizabeth “Bette” Kane (deadname Matthew Gilbert "Bert" Kane) is a(n ethnically white) Englishwoman through Matthew “Matt” Kane née Benett and Jewish through Miriam Kane, her vigilante names being Batgirl & Flamebird;

cis mono biromantic demisexual fem Barbara Joan Gordon is a(n ethnically mostly white) Gothamite through Barbara Eileen Johannes (named Barbara Eileen Gordon during her marriage to Jim) and James “Jim” Gordon (whose bio maternal grandfather was an African American), her vigilante names being Batgirl & Oracle;

cis mono gay demi male David Zavimbe is Congolese through Laura Zavimbe née Davids and Isaac Zavimbe, his vigilante name being Batwing;

trans mono bi demi fem Araunya “Anya” Grayson (deadname Richard “Rick” John Grayson) is Romani & Welsh & French through Marie Grayson née Lloyd (who was born in Wales) and Romani & an (ethnically white) Englishwoman through John Grayson (who was born in England), her vigilante names being Robin & Renegade & Nightwing & Batman;

cis mono demiromantic omni fem Jade “Jay” Todd (also known as Jason “Jay” Todd, Jade “Jay” al Ghūl, & Jade “Jay” Head) is a(n ethnically mostly white) Gothamite through Sheila Haywood and Willis Peters (whose bio paternal grandmother was a Chinese American), her vigilante names being Robin & Red Hood;

cis mono gay ace fem Cassandra Wǔ-Sân (formerly Cassandra Cain, originally nameless) is Chinese through Shiva (at birth named Sandra Wǔ-Sân) and a(n ethnically white) Gothamite through David Cain, her vigilante names being Orphan & Batgirl & Black Bat & Batman (Cassandra Wǔ-Sân is written as 擦涩伞得拉 伍 莘 in Chinese);

cis mono bi fem Harper Row (formerly Harper Farrell) is a(n ethnically white) Gothamite through Miranda Farrell née Row and Marcus Farrell, her vigilante name being Bluebird;

mono bi Stephanie Brown (deadname Charles “Chuck” Brown) is a(n ethnically white) Gothamite through Crystal Brown née Bellinger and Arthur Brown plus she’s a demigal, their vigilante names being Spoiler & Robin & Batgirl;

cis poly bi male Timothy “Tim” Jackson Drake is a(n ethnically white) Gothamite through Janet Drake née Lynn and Jack Drake, his vigilante names being Robin & Raptor;

agender mono bi Duke Thomas is an African American Gothamite through Eileen Thomas (whose bio mother was also a metahuman) and an African through Gnomon (who is also a metahuman), their vigilante names being Signal & Robin;

agender aro ace Damian al Ghūl (deadname Athanasia al Ghūl, used the name Tallant al Ghūl for several months at age 8 when believing ze’s male before at the end of it realising zir lack of any gender, got often called Ībn al Ḫfāfīš [إِبن الخفافيش] & Ūṭwāṭ [وطواط] by other Shadows in the League of Assassins) is Arab, Chinese, & Pakistani through Talia al Ghūl and Jewish & ethnically white through Bruce Thomas Wayne, zir vigilante names being Robin & Heretic & Redbird (Damian al Ghūl is written as داميان ال عهوول in Arabic, 㙮面 腌乐 乌勒 in Chinese, & ڈیمین الغول in Urdu);

cis mono pan fem Helena Alfreda Kyle is Cuban, Nigerian, Italian, and Somali through Selina Kyle (who is a Gothamite, but gave birth to & for 8 years raised her bio daughter in Metropolis) and Jewish and ethnically white through Bruce Thomas Wayne, her vigilante names being Hunter & Robin;

genderfluid mono bi ace Maxine "Max" Gibson is an African American Gothamite through Sarah Gibson née Edwards and Evan Gibson, his vigilante name being Huginn;

cis mono heteroromantic heterosexual fem Dana Tan is a Chinese American Gothamite through Daiyu Tan née Zhìhuì and Paul Tan (originally named Bao Tan), her vigilante name being Muninn (Dana Tan is written as 丹娜 坛 in Chinese);

trans mono het male Terrence “Terry” McGinnis (deadname Winifred McGinnis) is a Gothamite who is a Korean American through Mary Mun (named Mary McGinnis during her marriage to Warren McGinnis) and Jewish & ethnically white through Bruce Thomas Wayne, his vigilante name being Batman (Terrence McGinnis is written as 테렌스 맥기니스 in Korean);

trans mono het fem Caroline “Carrie” Keene Kelley (deadname Jonathan “John” Keene Kelley) is a(n ethnically white) Gothamite through Lynn Keene and Frank Kelley, her vigilante names being Robin & Batwoman;

cis mono gay male Matthew “Mattie” Mun is a Gothamite who is a Korean American through Mary Mun (named Mary McGinnis during her marriage to Warren McGinnis) and Jewish & ethnically white through Bruce Thomas Wayne, his vigilante name being Robin (Matthew Mun is written as 매튜 문 in Korean).

[omgthatdress]

Cécile and Marie-Grace were released alongside the best friends line of dolls, and are a pretty transparent gimmick to get people to buy two dolls at once. That being said, I actually kind of love their collection.

Their story is set in New Orleans in 1853, which is a pretty great way to represent the Antebellum South without having a Scarlett O’Hara doll. New Orleans was one of the few places in the south with a robust middle class. Everywhere else had tremendous wealth inequality with absurdly rich plantation-owners, barely surviving poor Whites, and slaves.

Cécile is of the gens de coleur libre, that is, the free people of color, a class of New Orleans citizens born out of the plaçage system in which White men would take women of color as informal second wives. Plaçees held a really interesting position, as they could legally claim inheritance once their patron died, and the children born of plaçage could be named heir of an estate. Plaçees were also allowed to develop assets and run small businesses. All of this created a level of generational wealth that was unique among African-Americans at the time. Today, their descendants are known as Creoles.

As far as Marie-Grace goes, I don’t think she’s Cajun, just French-American. Cajuns are a specific group, the Catholic descendants of the French colonizers of Acadia, now called Nova Scotia, who were forced by the British out of the home. They settled mostly in the fertile Mississippi delta, and maintained a rural, somewhat insular way of life. Marie-Grace is the city-dwelling daughter of a doctor, so probably just the descendant of regular French citizens who settled in New Orleans.

Hair-wise, this is the era when girls tied their hair up with rags at night to have fat sausage curls in the morning. Most photographs and paintings that I’ve seen of Black girls in the era show them with their hair tied up, but there are a few who had curls.

Marie-Grace’s face-framing curls are a little bit more Jan Brady than 1850s, but it’s cute on her, so I’ll give her credit for that. The long hair isn’t inaccurate.

There’s something about Cécile’s dress that keeps saying “wrong” but I can’t quite put my finger on it. A more accurate dress would be more along the lines of something like this:

(The Victoria & Albert Museum)

(The Victoria & Albert Museum)

(New York Historical Society)

Marie-Grace’s dress seems to have been inspired by this portrait of Creole children:

(credit to @in-pleasant-company​ for finding it)

Cécile’s pillbox hat is a style that was adopted more in the late 1860s and 1870s. A more accurate hat would also have her in a “coal scoop” bonnet.

Her gloves, however, are accurate and adorable!

(The Met Museum)

Marie-Grace is wearing a kind of sun hat that was popular for children:

(The Met Museum)

Marie-Grace’s fan looks typical of the French fans that were popular at the time. They were usually painted with pretty pastoral scenes instead of flowers, however, although Chinese fans at the time frequently had floral themes.

(The Philadelphia Museum of Art)

(The Victoria & Albert Museum)

The shoes are definitely late Victorian rather than 1850s. Fine city ladies in the 1850s would be wearing boots made out of silk with leather soles:

(The Met Museum)