#yoruba boy running

[bloodmaarked]

➸ reading list

just added:

the moor's account, laila lalami

dance of the jakaranda, peter kimani

at night all blood is black, david diop

black mamba boy, nadifa mohamed

house of stone, novuyo rosa tshuma

mount pleasant, patrice nganang

river spirit, leila aboulela

beneath the lion's gaze, maaza mengiste

yorùbá boy running, biyi bándélé

the four winds, kristin hannah

[octuscle]

Hey I want o be a himbo twunk with a great body that only wears tight leather to show off my gains to my boys oh and can you change my race as well, dealer's choice dude!

Now that the days are getting warmer again, you like to stroll through the street markets during your lunch break. Not that you would buy anything here… But you like the atmosphere. And there's lots of cool inspiration for business ideas here. As an investment banker, you need that to be able to assess market developments. That's sometimes more helpful than reading blogs or trade journals.

The stand with the perfumes and oils is cool. The guy in charge of the stand is cool. Looks a bit like a Viking. He smells good, you can tell that even from a metre away. You ask what his fragrance is called. Norwegian Fjord, he replies. You breathe in with your eyes closed. Yes, the smell reminds you of waterfalls, glaciers, high mountains and the sea. That's how you imagine the smell of a fjord. And like the guy, you imagine a fisherman who lives by the fjord. The Viking asks you if you would like to try out a scent. Sure, you answer. He sprays some on the back of your hand. You know the smell. Somehow animalistic. What does it smell like? "It's Nubian leather," the Viking reads your thoughts. Exactly, that's it. Leather, sweat, desert sun. That's what it smells like. You say thank you and stroll on.

You should really get back to the office. But somehow you don't feel like it. And secondly, you're hungry. You pass a stall selling Sudanese street food. You order a Magali sandwich. While you wait, you chat a bit with the waitress. A cool guy. His clean-shaven head glistens in the sun. You ask him if he can imagine you being bald too. He laughs and says that you should just try it out with a barber. There are plenty around here. You don't even realise that you are talking in Yoruba.

The food was delicious. But your shirt now smells of deep fryer and barbecue. Good thing your leather jacket doesn't absorb odours. And good that you still smell a bit like Nubian leather. You run your hand over your head. Yes, your hair no longer smells like a food truck either.

You should really get back to the office. But somehow you don't feel like it. And secondly, you're hungry. You pass a stall selling Sudanese street food. You order a Magali sandwich. While you wait, you chat a bit with the waitress. A cool guy. His clean-shaven head glistens in the sun. You ask him if he can imagine you being bald too. He laughs and says that you should just try it out with a barber. There are plenty around here. You don't even realise that you are talking in Yoruba.

The food was delicious. But your shirt now smells of deep fryer and barbecue. Good thing your leather jacket doesn't absorb odours. And good that you still smell a bit like Nubian leather. You run your hand over your head. Yes, your hair no longer smells like a food truck either.

You've been wandering aimlessly through the streets. You went to a café where lots of Nigerians hang out and played Yoté and dominoes. Whatever you do to pass the time until your evening shift starts. And that's rarely before 9.00 pm.

You usually start in front of the club and hand out flyers. Anyone who sees you dancing on the pole on a flyer is usually quickly convinced. The club fills up. And from 23:00 there is a show. And you are the star. One of the punters who slips a £100 note into your leather briefs smells you and asks what kind of scent it is. You press his face firmly against your chest. You reply, "Nubian leather, it's obviously very much to your taste!"

[sharloola]

ODE TO THE SALON (BLUE MAGIC)

Washed, stretched, no oils— all plans cancelled for today. 

You trek to auntie in old trackies and a beanie with your survival kit: 

Earphones and snacks shoved into a bag,

Next to 4 packs of 1b and clear gloss.

The marketplace is only a skeleton of itself when you arrive,

You pass by crates of fresh fruit and fake fendi as the streets pulse to life.

The vendors nod at you as they chat in the frosty morning glow 

and you smile back, praying you don’t run into someone you know.

Auntie’s late (but that goes without saying). 

You’re seated at her altar, neck braced, playlist loaded.

She turns moses, parting 4c with a rat tail comb 

And your open palms face the sky with synthetic hair laced between your fingers.

The small girl next to you marvels at how you stay x-pressionless throughout.

She has not yet learned to swallow pain so yelps and cries, 

Envying her brothers who have turned the shop floor into a wrestling ring.

They roll around on a sea of knotted hair, in dishevelled uniforms and overgrown taper fades.

Their mother tries to scold them for half an hour before giving up, 

Instead focusing on the tv as her red-black hair is layered and smoothed with molten tongs.

Tendrils of smoke are released with each sizzle and clink,

Curling between her and the pixelated faces of nollywood on the screen.

The smell of burning is a comfort to you now,

Child embraced by the warmth of a village who sets itself alight.

Even fire can be a kindness when welcomed, 

She heats hair masks under plastic bags and sears coils straight when asked. 

Someone is playing music from home and it rings out tinny from an old samsung.

Lingala, yoruba, patois— bodies sway to the beats regardless.

Your hips are all polyglot in rhythm, 

And somehow the crying baby drifts off to this and the sound of a blow dryer.

Auntie says you’re tall and quiet, like her daughter back home.

You realise then why her hands are so tender on your head 

And wonder if she always looks for her babies in the scalps of strangers, 

Sees a mirage of them in oil flecked reflections as her bones twist coarse tresses day after day. 

The blue magic your own mother cast when you were small still lingers.

You notice the teenage boy getting cornrows can’t understand the sorcery in this place.

He stares at the floor as his head is pulled and frowns at all the shouting, 

Unburnt ears alien to these sharp incantations of love.

You were the same when first you sat in the chair, 

Milk teeth of a wide tooth comb and nintendo to keep you busy.

You flinched at the raised voices, gazing at girls on pretty n silky boxes,

Secretly hoping pink lotion might make you look like them.

You’d sit patiently by the nail bar as your mum retouched, 

Nose crinkled at the chemicals while she assured you she’d be done soon. 

Sweet fried dumplings and curry goat from next door were your reward and sometimes, 

The man selling watered down perfume would spritz the air just to humour you.

Your mum always announced if something hurt her,

And swatted the acrylic capped fingers from her head like mosquitos.

You used to wonder if your voice would grow in after your big teeth did, 

But you still hold your tongue when pain comes from hands that could love you. 

Now, the cacophony of the salon is a familiar melody and you know the choreography. 

Eyes plié when the husband-landlord walks in heavy and italic, 

Lowering all chatter to a murmur as he demands cash from his wife.

She hands it over with a painted smile and he slams the door on his way out.

The stony interlude is short-lived because we practise alchemy through laughter here:

Auntie makes a quip about his bad breath and tension surrenders to joy.

In this coven, mens anger is snuffed out like flyaways under clouds of mousse,

Rendered lifeless by protection runes hidden in the creases of weathered palms.

The women swap stories over your head in kintsugi english, 

Kissing teeth and gesturing wildly with dollops of shine ‘n jam on the back of their hands. 

You understand now that wisdom is being sewn in as well as tracks,

And tuck their fables behind your ear for times yet to come like seeds in damp ground.

Finally, when the sun has melted to dusk, the water is set to boil. 

You are placed under the dryer and stretch out your stiff fingers.

Auntie swoops your baby hairs after the sweet olive spray,

And warns you that it’s berry cold outside as you hug.

You leave: braids dripping, scalp sore, 

Kink in your neck and pep in step.

At school, your friends would marvel as you showed off the clean parts, 

While the other kids asked to pull and prod.

For the next two weeks, you’ll be vigilant with the scarf at night

And not think about the next style until new growth turns the knotless to a blur.

A few months from now, the man in the hair shop will follow you down aisles

And you’ll call up auntie again to hear her psalm, words a mosaic with veins of gold: 

I’m fine. How’s mummy? 

(I love you)

Which hair you want? 

(I love you)

Send picture. 

(I love you)

You have the hair? 

(I love you)

Ok, come 9. 

s.o.

[beardedmrbean]

I saw episode of Blackish where black women had protest to the fact there was no black American dolls for their daughters…the thing is the American dolls franchise is about girls from different eras of american history and supposed to show girls of today how they are connected with girls of the past

Oh…they got some dark af pasts…I mean…historically accurate

https://youtu.be/kG5VX7ctoL8?si=9Qc9RA51qXrxUue9

Also people pointed out the southern girl in the skit actually have a free black girl as a best friend in her story

But some people point out other girls are from the Great Depression and another one is a survivor of the Nat Turner massacre.

You know people point out that kids can handle dark shit like using pop culture stuff like BTAS and ATLA….

There fundamental differences of a shelter suburban kids who only learn that the founding fathers had slaves in middle school

Vs…actual working class kids

A poor Italian kid knows the dangers of the mafia from their family

Jewish kids was told the horrors of the holocaust by their families

You know I saw someone point out how a lot of anime wasn’t censored in the past in Latin America vs in the USA

I think people REALLY need to comprehend the difference between environments for kids

What did a lot of Latin Americans kids go through? Dictatorships, cartels wars, American imperialism. So shit like anime is nothing

Actually my own community history, you know the Emmett Till stuff? Oh did I mention I was awoken by gunshots once?

Sorry blackish American dolls thing…maybe because you guys weren’t the common consumer demographics?

Oh oh let me do my own spinoff American dolls

Post Mayflower immigrant boy: I from Ireland and my big brother died from a fever on the way here. We are living in the rough part of Boston. I also have to sell my body sometimes

A slave from Africa: I’m from the Yoruba tribe and was kidnapped by the Dahomey and bought by white men.

A post civil war black boy who was a former slave: my family moved to the west after the civil war! Though before that I was a “Young Buck” on the plantation

What boys make indounes all the damn time, source: me

Actually I want to do another anon in the afternoon about the tackling of mature stuff in kids media and why it often lacking these days

Well when you put people who are mentally unstable af in kids media….

I saw episode of Blackish where black women had protest to the fact there was no black American dolls for their daughters…the thing is the American dolls franchise is about girls from different eras of american history and supposed to show girls of today how they are connected with girls of the past.

Post on here trying to put them down, reaction was swift and contained a lot of shut ups along with a nice collection of the various American Girl dolls of colour.

We love American girl dolls here, they run the gambit of the American experience

You know people point out that kids can handle dark shit like using pop culture stuff like BTAS and ATLA…. Ect What did a lot of Latin Americans kids go through? Dictatorships, cartels wars, American imperialism. So shit like anime is nothing

Kids are surprisingly resilient, here in the US on a actual fair global scale there's really nothing for people to complain about, but we do local so I'm not putting down the struggles we face.

Actually my own community history, you know the Emmett Till stuff? Oh did I mention I was awoken by gunshots once?

Like I said.

Post Mayflower immigrant boy: I from Ireland and my big brother died from a fever on the way here. We are living in the rough part of Boston. I also have to sell my body sometimes A slave from Africa: I’m from the Yoruba tribe and was kidnapped by the Dahomey and bought by white men. A post civil war black boy who was a former slave: my family moved to the west after the civil war! Though before that I was a “Young Buck” on the plantation.

lol

What boys make indounes all the damn time, source: me Actually I want to do another anon in the afternoon about the tackling of mature stuff in kids media and why it often lacking these days

Hopefully I have the time to finish a response, if not it'll be out tomorrow

Well when you put people who are mentally unstable af in kids media….

But muh representation

[delulu--lulu]

Jabari's Rite of Passage

When young men -usually ages ranging from twelve and thirteen- wanting to become the king are required to fight an opponent in a wrestling ring, if they pass, they’ll become king, if they fail, they’re banished. 

In the arena, there are various painting marks of hand prints and a cave painting of a child pouncing. This means that this tradition has gone on for generations.

By tradition, Jabari needs to accept the challenge of any of the warriors chosen by the other four tribes of Naua for the title of King.

The following day, it’s finally time for Jabari’s rite of passage. Even with all of the recent drama surrounding the teens, the hybrid boy doesn’t let it get to his head. He hasn’t trained, being only informed of the ceremony a week in advance.

But now that the morning has arrived, Jabari feels completely anxious. There are so many what-if questions running through his thoughts, his mind thinking the worst possibilities.

He has woken up from Eustace, who’s just as excited for him if not more. He enjoys watching this part of the ritual because of how intense it can be, the thrill satisfying his adrenaline rush.

“Get up, Jabari! It’s finally time!” Eustace jumps up and down on his bed like a child, his excitement getting the better of him.

Jabari groans as his loud words flood his head, covering his eyes with his elbow. “Shut up, Useless. It’s too early for this.” He replies with an annoyed tone.

But his brother doesn’t care, instead, he jumps from his bed to Jabari’s in one single take. He crashes into his backside and falls back onto the floor with a thud.

“Ow- what the fuck!” Jabari shoots up as he rubs his back, his eyes narrowed down at his brother on the floor. 

Eustace shrugs and stands back to his full height. “Come on, I’m sure everyone is waiting for you already!”

With a sigh, Jabari stretches and stands as well. He follows the overjoyed boy as he bounds outside and toward the family room, only to find it quiet and unmoving.

Now fully awake, he speaks in a hushed voice. “I told you it was too early, I’m going back.”

But as he turns to walk back to his hut, a few figures emerge from the back. His dad, his mom, Sunshine, and his aunt, Vasilisa, are dressed and ready for the long day ahead of them, wearing their traditional ceremonial outfits and paint.

“E kaaro, omo mi.” Jai warmly says to his son, trying to enforce more Yoruba in his children, to which he replies with the same tone. 

“Good morning!”

Juniper is the first to approach him closely as she presses a kiss to his forehead. “Good morning, baby. Are you ready for today?”

He nods, his eyes drifting to Sunshine who stands idly by, almost as if she’s unsure whether to approach him or not. When Jabari waves her over she complies instantly, her face softening from his welcoming gesture.

“You’re coming too?” Jabari asks as his older sister now stands by his side. 

She replies with a lopsided smile. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

He smiles back at her but their attention is brought elsewhere as Jai calls for them. “We’re leaving now. You two take Jabari with the kids, the others will be there shortly after to join as well. Then Vasilisa and I will go and meet you at the hall.”

Agreeing to the plan, the four kids wave off the parents. As Jai and Vasilisa disappear, Eustace and Sunshine start walking off in the opposite direction as they lead the small group. They head towards the trail they will take for most of the trip before the treacherous part of the journey takes place.

Jabari and the three other boys paint their bodies and face with paint to get ready for the Rite of a Passage. Jabari’s face and chest are painted in white, for purity and hope, and purple for his royal roots. 

A boy with white and green paint on his face and chest turns to him with his hand out. “May the best man win?” Jabari nods, clasping his hand in the boy’s.

As the four young men enter the ring. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of people stand at the top of the treetops in little canopy-like stands. Jabari’s heart beats faster as he watches all the people watching him. 

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” 

Everyone’s attention moves away from the boys onto Juniper, the only human, shouting from the stands at the top of her lungs. “Come on, baby! Make Mama proud!”’ Juniper shouts happily to Jabari. He doesn’t answer, instead looks away embarrassed as his mom continues shouting. 

He doesn’t remember much of what happens next when the duel begins. Jabari sighs deeply, the twisting in his stomach and the pounding of his heart never end. He shuts his eyes tightly before opening them again to look at his opponent. 

It’s the green-painted boy, his name is Kola. 

Jabari knows how to fight. Although he never liked engaging the enemy face to face. Vasilisa nods, initiating the sign to begin. Kola immediately draws his blades and attacks. 

Kola lands a punch on Jabari’s face, the weight of it surprising him as he falls back into the bark. Before he can recover, Kola has already plunged a blade through his stomach, right below his ribcage. 

He controls himself, swallows the yell that claws its way up his throat and tries to think. The rough bark of the tree stabs into his back, and when another fist collides with his cheek and sends him to the floor, he uses it to haul himself up and tackle Kola to the ground with him.

Jai only stands and watches as Jabari throws his weight onto Koal and slams his head into the dirt floor. He collapses to the ground with a choked cry, and Jabari turns back just in time to see him trying to stand, though the injury to his head makes him dizzy. 

Jabari is yanked backward. His head smacks the bark of the tree just before a hand clamps down on the back of his neck. His upper body slams onto the trunk with so much force, he bites the inside of his cheek, and his mouth fills with blood. He swallows, head spinning, unable to get his bearings.

Kola rams into Jabari, his body slamming to the ground with a loud smash, the force just away from breaking something. 

“Well, this is intimate.” He scoffs, swinging his leg and slamming it harshly into Kola’s adversary's ribs, letting him fall to the ground, spitting blood and a flurry of filthy curses out of his mouth. 

Wiping the blood from his mouth, Kola’s fingers claw around Jabari’s neck, digging into his skin, leaving scratches and bruises in their wake, ripping out shallow breaths from his lungs as his face slowly turns a sickly shade of blue. 

“What? Are we just gonna keep cuddling here together for all eternity?” Jabari supplies a mostly sarcastic tone. Kola releases him from the bruising grip on his neck. Jabari takes in great breaths of air, his body shuddering as he almost falls to the ground, only for Kola to supply him with a hefty kick to the ribs. So then Jabari is on the ground and Kola is staring down at him.

Kola presses forward with the knife butt. It’ll leave a bruising ring in his skin, later. “Tell me you’re gonna forfeit.” Jabari shakes his head. “Say it.” He presses the butt deeper into his head. 

“No. I won’t forfeit.” Kola regards Jabari for a moment, dark brown eyes darting between his. Nods, final. 

“All right then.” But he doesn’t stop pressing the butt of the knife deeper into Jabari’s skull. White hot pain shoots through his head. His stomach rolls. 

“I’m-I’m going to be sick.” Jabari declares weakly, a hand over the tense, clenching wall of his abdominal muscles. “Kola, stop.”

Juniper turns concerned to a tensely sitting Jai. “He can’t do that, can he? He’ll kill him.”

“He can.” Jai shakes his head.

Kola’s chin tilts up, considering a splatter of red flowers dotting the leaves, but Jabari’s words draw his attention. His head dips to the side. “Ooh.” He warns, clicking his tongue like he’s chastising an insolent child. 

Jabari lurches forward, head between his knees as his stomach upends luxurious shortbread and coke. His eyes drift to where his family stares down at him from the canopies. A part of him is happy they’re cheering for him but another part is sad and disappointed that they’ll watch him lose. But it’s too late. 

Jabari jumps up and his fist rocks out and slams into Kola’s jaw. Everything after that happens too quickly, he’s shoved back down to the ground hard enough that Jabari watches his head slam back on the dirt of the ground. 

And nothing is more satisfying than when Jabari drags his foot up and boots Kola straight in the nose. He lets out a petrified yelp, groaning in pain as blood drips from beneath his hands where he’s clutching at his septum, eyes screwed shut. 

Jabari waits a moment, then kicks him again. This time in the gut. He throws his head back into the tree to try and dodge, then grabs a branch from the tree, bashes his throat, and slams him into the tree. 

Another hit. 

Jabari’s hits are systematic, targeting whatever part of Kola’s body that his arms can’t protect. One deft calf kick has Kola crouched on the ground, gasping in pain. Jabari decides to end it here. After just a single minute. Swinging his leg back, he twists his body and lands a solid roundhouse kick to Kola’s jaw. 

Nothing cracks, thank the moons above, but he’s out cold almost instantly.

The crowd cheers at Jabari’s victory. His family has been holding their breaths so the moment Jabari stands to his feet, the breath of relief is pleasurable. The throbbing pain in his head, his legs, his stomach, and the scene in front of him, all make him want to throw up. When the boy stands for the first time as the new king, it doesn’t last long. Legs collapsing under him, Juniper feels time stop as her baby falls backward, eyes rolling back into the base of his head. 

The new king falls to the ground, blood seeping from his head.

Jai and Juniper waste no time in rushing to the forest floor to receive their son. The parents only pick up Jabari but Sunshine and Eustace gather their attention to Kola who is injured unconsciously as well. Both boys are taken to the infirmary.

[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

Under a New Moon 09. Face to Face

Summary: Klaus has offered Athena a chance of a lifetime, to find out more about her family. With the “permission” from her friends in Mystic Falls and her curiosity. She travels to New Orleans with Klaus Mikaelson to discover more about the Dumont family. What she doesn’t know is the chaos that will ensue in New Orleans. 

Post Date: 09.20.2022

Word count: 4.1k

Based off: 01 x 11 “Apres Moi, Le Deluge”

Masterlist CIB Masterlist UNM Masterlist

��The Italians called them Strega. The Yoruba of West Africa call them Aje, meaning mother. Where my mother was from, they called them Hexa, and here we call them witch.  Over the centuries, vampires have fought them and fought beside them, bedded them and burned them. Whether adversary or ally, they have been a force to be reckoned with. Their ancestral magic anchors this city. There’s never been one all-powerful witch until Davina,” Elijah explains.

“Who is now tucked in safe and sound down the hall under my protection. Your Celeste was quite beautiful and a portent of evil, according to our volatile artist in residence,” Klaus adds, walking into the library.

“Yes. Perhaps Davina’s mistaken what she calls evil for power. Celeste was certainly very powerful in her day, but she’s been dead for over 200 years. I don’t understand why all these sketches now,” Elijah says, confused.

“Why does any witch do anything?” Klaus asks before you hear something hit a wall in the house. Which probably meant that Davina’s awake. “Well, that’s going well,” Klaus adds.

“If you were trying to win the girls trust, perhaps poisoning her one true love was not the most splendid idea,” Elijah responds.

“You’d think he’d learn by now,” I add.

“Oh. Are there any more inopportune deaths you two would like to wave in my face?” Klaus asks.

“Give us a month. We’ll get you a list,” I say and Elijah nods in agreement. Klaus laughs as you hear more crashing from Davina’s room.

“Young, old, dead, or alive, witches are a pain in the ass,” Klaus says, leaving the room. I follow him because I want to get him to help me find my brother or whoever it is.

“Klaus,” I say as he enters Davina’s room. But I stop as I notice Davina coughing up dirt. Before we know it, the whole house is rattling. 

“What the hell is going on? Rebekah asks from the courtyard of the compound.

“Davina,” Klaus answers. Once everything calmed down, you met with Elijah, Marcel, and Klaus.

“This is madness. How can a 16-year-old girl shake the entire French quarter?” Klaus asks,

“I’ve seen her rock the church, but I’ve never seen anything like this,” Marcel says.

“How did you control her when she was in the attic?” Klaus asks.

“I didn’t have to,  but then I never killed her boyfriend,” Marcel responds.

“Yes, yes. We’ve been over this part already. The point is, in her present state. She’s useless as a tool against the witches,” Klaus says.

“She’s not a tool. Something’s wrong with her,” I say.

“She has too much power that she cannot control. That much we already knew, but why is it manifesting itself in such an aggressive manner?” Elijah says before he starts to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” Klaus asks.

“This is witch business. Let’s ask a witch,” Elijah says, and Marcel leaves the room as well.

I start to look at the books in the library to see if there’s any hint of more information on my family. “And what are you looking for?” Klaus says from behind me.

“Well, seeing as you boys have this Davina situation handled for now. I thought I’d focus on myself,” I say, still looking at the books. 

“That still didn’t answer my question,” Kalus says playfully.

“I’m looking for answers. On my family. On my possible…brother,” I say as I feel a shiver move throughout my body. 

“Well, can I be of any help?” Klaus asks.

“Unless you know more information on my family, then no. Not to mention you’re a little preoccupied with Davina,” I say.

“Elijah’s running his little errand right now, so at this moment, I’m not busy,” Klaus says as he puts his hand out. I look at him questioningly before I realize he wants me to hand him the little book on names. He flips to the last page and stares at it, “Liam Dumont...Liam Du–,” Klaus says.

“Can you think to yourself?” I ask.

“I’m sorry, it just seems like his name rings a bell, but something doesn’t quite seem right,” Klaus says.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well, does this mean I can help?” He asks.

“Kalus…” I say sternly.

“Well, there’s this kid from the Bayou whose name is Liam, but I believe he goes by the name Hunter,” Klaus says. “Well, from what I know, he wasn’t born into the pack. So finding him may be helpful,” Klaus says, trailing off.

“Now that I think about it, when I was in the bayou with Elijah and Rebekah, there was this woman who knew about my necklace,” I say, walking out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Klaus asks, grabbing my arm.

“The Bayou,” I say sternly.

“I’m going with you,” He says.

“No, you’re too preoccupied with Davina,” I say.

“I wasn’t asking,” Klaus responds.

“I need to go alone! I need to find out, by myself, if I’m the last of my family…or if I really have a brother out there,” I say as calmly as possible.

“It’s not safe,” Klaus responds sternly.

“It’s not safe if I bring a Mikaelson. I promise I’ll call you if anything happens, okay?” I ask as he rolls his eyes. “Klaus?!” I say turning his head to me.

“Fine, but if I don’t hear from you in two hours. I’m going out there,” He says.

“I’ll be back before then. I still want to help with Davina, I just – I need to do this first, and I’ll do it as quickly as I can,” I say and kiss him on the cheek before leaving. 

I make my way out to the bayou before going on foot to where the wolves live.  It was just as deserted as last time, with no one in sight. I look around a bit to see if I can find any evidence of even one person around, but nothing.

“Hello?” I say with a slight shakiness in my voice. “I’m just looking for Hunter…” I say, but there's no response. I hear the rustling of running behind me and turn around to see if I could catch them, but no luck.

“I just want to talk,” I say. I turn back around and see a man around my age standing in front of me. There’s an awkward silence as neither of us knows what to really say.

“You look just like mom,” The man says. He tries to touch my face, but I back away. 

“Sorry, I just –” I start before noticing a ring on his right hand. The ring looks like it's made of the same material as my own. “Is that a moonstone ring?” I ask, pulling my pendant out to show him as well. 

“So Eve wasn’t lying. She did meet you,” The man says.

“What did she tell you about me?” I ask.

“What do you know about me?” He asks back.

“Well, if I’m correct. You were born two years before me, and Hunter is not your real name,” I say.

“And what makes you think that?” He asks.

“Cause you’re not much older than me, you have a moonstone ring, and this,” I say, handing him the name notebook. He looks at me fairly skeptical before flipping through it.

“So what did Eve tell you about me?” I ask.

“Well, everyone knows about the Dumont wolf running around with the Mikaelsons. And that the family is so infatuated with her that no one really dared to mess with her. Eve meeting you, just confirmed that,” He explains.

“That doesn’t quite answer the question,” I respond, knowing that all I wanted to hear was that he was my brother and that I might actually be able to learn more about my family.

“I know that you’re Athena, the last known member of the Dumont family. And I know that you’re my little sister,” He says. Before I could say anything, I get a call from Klaus. I immediately declined it, before he calls me again.

“What?” I whisper into the phone.

“We need you back at the compound,” Klaus says.

“I’m finally making some progress, and the two hours aren’t even up. I said–,” I say.

“Elijah is back with the witch, Davina is sick and getting worse. If we don’t do anything, then Davina won’t survive, and a disaster will occur, leaving nothing behind,” Klaus interrupts.

“Ok, I’ll be there soon,” I sigh. “I’m sorry, but I–” I turn around to say to the man, but he’s gone. I look down to see the name book with another notebook under it. I pick the items up before heading back to the compound.

“We sedated her too heavily,” I hear Elijah say as I walk into the compound.

“Well, if this is her sedated, I’d hate to see her otherwise. We all agreed that Davina must be sacrificed. There’s no need to let her blow the roof off our heads in the meantime,” Klaus responds.

“No way! You’re not touching her!” Marcel says, jumping down from the second floor and punches Klaus. Elijah stops him before he does anything else.

“Ok. I’ll let you have that one,” Klaus responds to the punch.

“Marcel, no one wants to see Davina get hurt, especially me, but it seems like there's no other choice here,” I say.

“According to Sophie, the witch who screwed over everybody here,” Marcel protests.

“The Harvest was working before it was stopped. If a nonbeliever like Sophie Deveraux can come to have faith that these girls will be resurrected, then I, also, am a believer,” Elijah adds. Marcel pays no attention and moves on to Klaus.

“I saved Davina from the Harvest, and now you want me to just hand her over?” Marcel asks.

“Do you think that I’m happy about this? If the witches complete the Harvest, not only do they regain their power. We lose our weapon against them,” Klaus states. “The earthquake I was willing to chalk up to hideous coincidence, but these winds? If Davina is not sacrificed, then every inch of earth that shook, everything blowing about now will soon be drenched in water and consumed by fire,” Klaus states.

“Oh! Now you care about the city,” Marcel says.

“We ought to. We built it.” Elijah adds in.

“And we all saw it burnt to the ground twice. I will not let that happen again. Do I make myself clear?” Klaus asks.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Marcel says before walking away.

“Not a people person, are you, Niklaus?” Elijah says.

“Nonsense, I love people. Just on my way to warn a couple of prominent ones in case the weather gets out of hand. If you and Athena fancy yourselves as plus diplomatique perhaps you two would like to come along,” Klaus says.

“No. Soon Sophie Deveraux shall be consecrating Celeste’s remains, and though her actions are reprehensible, still I should pay my respects. Elijah starts walking towards the entrance of the compound with us following him.

“Hey, do you have a minute?” Haley says, walking up to us, well, more like Elijah.

“On my way out,” Elijah responds quickly.

“Which one of us is the people person again?” Klaus asks, noticing Haley’s face of disappointment.

I make my way to the library to start reading the notebook that was left behind. I take a seat in one of the chairs and open it up. The date read “July 17, 2006” at the top. Below are two short paragraphs.  I skimmed through the writing, which mentioned searching for a family.

 As I flipped to the next page, a folded paper fell out, and I hear a knock on the doorframe, “Yes?” I say, slightly annoyed.

“Just seeing how you’re doing after your visit to the Bayou, did you find out anything?” Klaus says from behind me. “Hmm… that’s new,”

“And none of your business,” I say as I close the notebook.

“Then I take it you did find something,” He says.

“Sure, think what you want. Now, if you’ll excuse me, can I have some quiet time before chaos ensues?” I ask. Klaus puts his hands up and backs out of the library.

Once I was sure Klaus was gone, I opened the folded paper and started reading,

“Hey baby sister,

If you got this letter, it means that either you found me or I never got to meet you before it was too late. Writing this letter is probably stupid, but I’m not really sure what I would say to you if we ever met. I’m sorry that I never looked for you, but honestly, from my knowledge of our family, I thought it’d be best if I kept my distance. Either way, I still love you with all my heart, and I hope you can forgive me.

Your big brother, Liam”

Honestly, I wasn’t sure how to react or what to do. And before I could really react, I hear Rebekah call for Klaus from Davina’s room. I make my way to her room and find two people knocked out, a missing Davina and two fighting siblings.

“Ok. We need to divide and conquer if we’re gonna stand a chance. He could have gone anywhere,” Rebekah says.

“Well, I’m here with Sabine. Perhaps we could try a locator spell?” Elijah says through Rebekah’s phone.

“I’ll talk to the priest. They might even be at the church. It’s the last place we’d think to look for them, right?” Klaus says.

“Ok. You check the church. I’ll check everywhere else,” Rebekah says.

“I’ll go with you,” I say. 

Rebekah and I walk through the French Quarter, trying to see if we could get any hint of Marcel or Davina. “So I heard about your trip to the Bayou. How was that?” Rebekah asks.

“Well… I met my brother,” I shakily say.

“Oh, how’d uh that go?” Rebekah asks.

“Ok,” I respond.

“That’s all?” She stops in front of me.

“Well, there was a lot of silence, so there’s not much to report,” I say as we get back to the compound.  Once everyone was back, we gathered to figure out the next step, considering none of us had found Marcel or Davina.

“It’s taken 1,000 years, but you’ve finally gone mad. Our own mother?” Rebekah asks after Elijah explains that the Mikaelson mother's bones must be consecrated to save Davina and the French Quarter.

“Yes, our beloved mother, who Niklaus has affectionately placed in a coffin in his basement, not daggered but quite dead,” Elijah confirms.

“Well, she did try to kill us all,” Klaus says.

“Well, I say we put her to use and put her to rest once and for all. Now, if we bury our mother on land owned by one of her descendants, she becomes a New Orleans witch. And we as her family share in that ancestral magic,” Elijah explains.

“We’re vampires, Elijah. We can’t practice magic. Or own property, for that matter,” Rebekah states.

“Yes. With regard to practicing magic…” Elijah says as he explains how to consecrate their mother's bones. “And as for owning property… Not all of our mother’s descendants are dead,” Elijah says.

“The baby,” Klaus whispers under his breath and Elijah confirms.

“The parish tax assessor’s office is just steps outside of the Quarter. Haley now holds the title to the plantation. So if we bury our mother there and we consecrate those grounds, we can finish the harvest ritual,” Elijah explains.

“You’re a bit of a mad genius, Elijah. Count me in,” Klaus agrees with the plan.

“Am I the only one thinking?” Rebekah questions. “Our mother was the most powerful witch in history. If we bury her, we hand that power to our enemies to use against us,” She states, and I nod in agreeance.

“Given our circumstances, I hardly see that we have a choice, Rebekah,” Elijah rebuttals.

“I don’t know why I bother. You two will just do what you want anyway,” Rebekah says.

“No. Our decision must be unanimous,” Elijah responds.

“This is not a democracy,” Klaus buts in.

“You’re quite right. This is family,” Elijah says as it starts to pour outside.

“Water. The next sign’s begun. Rebekah?” Elijah asks.

“Kill a demon today, face the devil tomorrow. Count me in,” Rebekah says.

“Athena?” Elijah asks, turning towards me.

“I’m not a Mikaelson,” I respond.

“You’re just as much a part of the family as any of us,” Rebekah states.

“Count me in. Let’s just hope your mother doesn’t come back to kill us a second time,” I say.

“Well, this is no family reunion without our mother. I’ll fetch her,” Klaus says and heads out to get her remains. 

Rebekah goes to find out where Marcel may have taken Davina, as Elijah and I go to get the pastor to bury their mother. We all meet at the plantation to watch their mother get buried. Once it was over, we all made our way to the graveyard to finish the Harvest ritual. As we waited for Marcel to bring Davina, a fire started in a different section of the graveyard.

“Fire,” Sophie says as we notice it was coming from behind Marcel, who was carrying Davina. We watch as Spohie slits Davina’s throat, and the rain stops as soon as she passes. “After the Harvest comes the reaping. Their sacrifices made and accepted, we call upon our elders to resurrect your chosen ones,” Sophie says. Nothing happens, so Sophie repeats the last part. “Please, I beg,” Sophie says, seeing as the girls still lie there dead. Sophie starts sobbing as she realizes she was not getting her sister back. 

I headed back to the compound with Klaus and went straight to the library, seeing as Klaus wanted to comfort Marcel, and I wanted to read more of the journal. Luckily no one had moved the journal. I sat down and immediately started scanning the journal. After reading a few more entries, I began to realize that not only was it my brothers, but a way for him to keep track of important life events in our family and information he found. Many of the entries were short excerpts of him wishing me a happy birthday or the tiny trails he found on info about our family, which mostly led to dead ends.

“Fancy a drink?” I hear Klaus say from the entryway. 

“Why not? I need a good distraction,” I say and follow Klaus into the courtyard.

“This whole thing was doomed from the start, you know? Yes, we saved the city, and I’m not complaining about the witches losing their power, but this did not go down the way I thought it would,” Klaus says, handing Rebekah and me a glass of whatever alcohol he chose. “How did you find them down in the docks?” Klaus asks Rebekahs, referring to Marcel and Davina.

“You’re not the only one with clever little spies in the quarter, Nik,” Rebekah responds.

“Sometimes I think I don’t give you your due, little sister,” Klaus says. 

“I knew Elijah’s plan was mad, but I really thought it would work,” Rebekah says.

“So did I,” Klaus and I say at the same time.

“I was sure Davina would survive. There was so much life in her,” Klaus continues.

“What about the power? 4 were supposed to rise, and none did. Where did all that power go?” I question, intriguing both Klaus and Rebekah.

“Well, I’m drained. I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Rebekah says and leaves the courtyard. I follow behind her and head back to the library to continue to read through the journal. 

A few hours go by as I try to pick out the most key part of the journal, trying to put together the puzzle of my family. “You know it's quite late, right?” I hear Klaus say as he sits next to me.

“So why are you up?” I ask, not turning my head away from the journal or my notes.

“I could ask the same,” Klaus responds.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I say.

“I see that. Anything intriguing?” He asks.

“Everything,” I say and finally turn my head to him.

“May I see?” He asks, looking at my notes. I sigh before I slide them over. He analyzes my notes, but it seems that he’s clueless about what I picked out. 

Before I know it, he plucks the journal out of my hands, “Hey!” I protest as he flips through the journal.

“These symbols. They look familiar. Hold on,” Klaus says as he gets up from the couch. He searches through the bookshelf before he pulls out a thin book. He flips through the pages and finds the symbol that was drawn on the first page and writes the word Necklace.

“Care to fill me in?” I ask as he flips through more pages. He then writes, Ring, then bracelet, and continues writing down different jewelry types until he finishes with ring, then necklace. “Hello?” I ask, still confused.

“Well, it has to mean something,” Klaus states, still confusing me.

“Like I know?! Wh–what are these symbols, anyways?” I ask.

“It’s a language, ancient, dead,” he says.

“Then why would my brother know it?” I ask.

“Hold on,” He says and looks around, before landing his eyes on the name book. He flips a few pages before landing on one with a symbol that looks similar to the ones in my brother's journal. “These symbols don’t look familiar at all?” He asks.

“Never seen them in my life,” I respond.

“You sure?” He asks back.

“Yeah, where are you getting at?” I ask.

“Well, this language may be dead, but  I remember hearing something about the pack that used this language as a way to communicate. As a matter of fact, I believe they developed it and only shared it with their most trusted allies,” Klaus says.

“That sounds like some sort of myth and a made-up one at that,” I respond, as what Klaus had just said, sounded stupid.

“I haven’t seen this language for 900 years when I last encountered a specific pack in the French Alps, and here it is, in the 21st century,” Klaus says. 

“Your point?” I ask.

“Well, considering this dead language has only reemerged in notebooks from your family. Hypothetically speaking, if we can find more texts using this language, then we can find out more about your family,” Klaus says.

“Wow, you might actually be right about something for once, Klaus. Do you have any more books that can translate the language?” I ask.

“Not that I know of… I–I have an idea, but we don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” He says with a somewhat worrying tone.

“What?” I ask, confused.

“Well… it won’t necessarily help us translate more, but it may confirm that the language was still being used by your family,” Klaus says in a lowered tone.

“So what’s your idea?” I ask.

“I–I have to go into your mind, search your memories…but I know how intru–” Klaus begins.

“Do it,” I interrupt.

“I’ll only look for the text,” He responds.

“Do it. I want to know,” I say.

“Ok. Close your eyes and relax,” Klaus says softly. I close my eyes as he softly places his hands on the temples of my head. A few moments later, I start to see a blurry memory of my parents. They’re yelling at eachother, and my mom is holding a piece of paper. Their voices are muffled, and I can barely tell what's going on. “Do you remember this?” Klaus asks.

“Ba–barley,” I stutter.

“Ok, focus on the paper. Make the picture clearer.” He says.

“I can try,” I say. I start to try and focus on what the paper says. For a moment, it’s crystal clear before becoming blurry again, sending a pang to my head. 

“Try again,” He says.

 I start to focus on the paper again, trying to see the symbols, which definitely looked like what we found. I feel another pang in my head, “It hurts,” I say.

“It’s ok,” He says.

The more and more I try, the more my head hurts, “It hurts…Nik. It–it really hurts,” I say as I begin to lose focus.

“Almost there, only a little longer,” He whispers.

I scream as it feels like something is trying to explode my head, and all of a sudden, I feel a force throw me back. When I open my eyes, I see Klaus lying across the room with books fallen around him. “Nik!” I say and run towards him. 

“I’m fine,” He grunts as I help him up.

“What happened?” Elijah says as he enters the room.

A/N: Hey guys! Here's the next part of UNM. I hope you enjoyed all the new developments! Thanks again, for reading.

🏷: @neraidaastrid​ | @april-14-blog​ |  @simonsbluee​ | @awkwardspontaneity​ | @keiko0​ | @xetherealbeautyx​ | @vxidnik​

[black-is-beautiful18]

Hazy

Percy Jackson x Black OC

A/N: Percabeth is cute but they're just going to be friends in this fic. This is also inspired by Nigerian tales such as Mami Wata and Yoruba mythology, but it's also folklore from West Africa. I hope you enjoy.

***************************

Her coconut brown skin shown brightly under the sun. Her smile as dazzling and as bright as a full moon while her laugh....oh her laugh was like a song. A song you want to hear over and over again. Her dark tight curls stuck to her face as she tries to shield herself from the water being thrown on her by two girls. They look to be twins. With identical facial features, skin the color of vanilla, and locs that go down their backs adorned with gold clips that glint in the sunlight. There's not much a difference between them except that one is a bit taller than the other. They all were beautiful but not as beautiful as her. Wearing a royal blue bikini she looked almost like a goddess. The water on her skin made it so she was practically glowing. A dreamy sigh leaves Percy's lips capturing the attention of the blonde girl next to him.

"What's got you so distracted, Percy?" Annabeth questions as she ties her hair up into a messy bun." I told you that the others will be here soon. Y-are you even listening to me seaweed brain?" She huffs putting a hand on her hip when Percy doesn't answer. He just continues looking towards the water.

"What's up with him?" Thalia asks as she lays down her beach towel her black and blue one piece fitting her style perfectly.

"Beats me." Annabeth shrugs" He's been staring off into space for some time now and I don't think he's coming back any time soon." She waves a hand in front of his face and Thalia chuckles as she begins putting sunscreen on.

"Definitely not coming back any time soon."

*************************

"Move, Zu!" I cry out laughing as I fight against the girl dragging me out of the water and towards our things.

With her locs pulled back in a low ponytail Zu shakes her head." Nope! Your going to talk to him!" She commands smirking.

Whining I twist in her arms to look to back at our older sister, well she's only 3 minutes older than Zu, but she's still older." Zuri! Tell her to put me down!" I beg pouting.

Zuri let's out a pleased laugh instantly making me groan." Oh not you too!" Rolling her eyes, Zuri points a finger at me." You're talking to him. We saw the way he was looking at you and don't think we didn't notice how hard you trying not to stare back at him."

Setting me down, Zu puts her hands on her hips." Girl, stop being such a guppy. It's clear you both are attracted to each other. Now go and talk to him or else Zuri and I are going to drag you over there."

Pouting I cross my arms." I am not a guppy!" I glance back at the black haired boy biting my lip." He is handsome...and his eyes," I sigh", they're as beautiful as the sea itself...."

"So?" Zuri asks tilting her head to the side.

Taking a deep breath I look at them." I...can't do it." I then try to run back to the water but they're quick to follow me.

**************************

"She winked at you, seaweed brain! I'm pretty sure that was a sign." Thalia says exasperated as Percy shakes his head." Do you see her? She's basically a goddess! There's no way she'll talk to me." Everyone groans or either rolls their eyes at the son of Poseidon.

"She's looking over here." Nico mutters glancing at his cousin.

"If you don't go talk to her I'm going to offer her a spot in the Hunt." Thalia says firmly causing Percy's eyes to widen.

"Plus, she's showing clear signs that she's interested and she's obviously looking at you. Not making a move is something you're gonna regret." Piper says shrugging as Jason feeds her chip. "She's also running away." He adds earning a smack on the shoulder

Sighing, Percy gets up" Fine. I'm going."

***********************

"Ugh! Fine!"

Wrapping my cover up around my waist I stomp off in the direction of the boy who caught my eye. I'm not angry. I'm just being dramatic because I know my sisters are right. As I'm walking I see that the boy is walking towards me as well. He rubs his neck nervously and I can't help but smile. Getting a bit closer I feel my face heating up.

"Hi."

"Hi."

I look at him surprised for a moment before laughing. He joins in instantly making me feel at ease.

"I'm Nia."

He smiles brightly almost making me coo at the way his face lights up but I control myself.

"I'm Percy and you're really pretty." He blurts out making me laugh.

"Thanks. I think you're pretty cute too."

I smirk as his cheeks . I go to say something but there are screams from the water causing me to turn around in alarm. People run from the water mothers holding tightly to their children and couples race to safety from something I can't see.

"Whirlpool!" Someone cries out causing even more panic.

"Whirlpool?" Percy and I voice our confusion at the same time. Looking up at him I notice he's already looking at me.

"Jinx!" We call out before giggling

"Nia!"

"Percy!"

Zu and Zuri come running over to me while a group of teenagers around our age run over to Percy.

"What's going on?" Percy and I ask just as a strange noise comes from the water causing us all to look. At first there's nothing but soon a lump begins rising out of the water. The way the sun shines against it sort of makes it look like a wet stone but I get the feeling that it is not a stone.

"Is that a friend of yours Percy?" A blonde girl asks using a hand to shield her face from the sun so she can see better.

"Nope. I have no idea what that is."

"Ikaki." Percy and his friends look at me curiously.

"Ikaki? What's that?" A blonde girl asks her eyes filled with suspicion and it's clear she's analyzing me and my sisters.

"It is a creature from our homeland....but how it got here I have no idea. They usually live in rivers." Zu mutters trying to think of a possible explanation but I know we can't waste time. We have to get rid of it even if it means exposing ourselves to demigods.

Calling out to my sisters I immediately begin giving orders." Zuleika, see if you can talk to it. If you can ask, why it's here and how it got here." She nods before taking off towards the water wasting no time in diving beneath the waves.

Percy and his friends are clearly alarmed as they see her disappear." Are you sure that's a good idea? What if that thing is dangerous?" A pale boy with shades on asks his voice not showing too much emotion but I can tell he's curious.

Turning to the group I shake my head" She'll be fine. Trust me." I say before turning to Zuri." Check to make sure no one was pulled under. It's clearly either hungry or in distress." She nods before disappearing into the water.

Looking to Percy and his friends I biting my lip as I walk backwards into the water." Stay here. You won't know how to deal with this and I don't want any of you getting hurt."

As I turn to go further into the water I feel someone grab onto my arm.'' Wait! You're not going to be safe either. Let me help.'' Percy says making me smirk as I look up at him.

''You are free to follow me son of Poseidon, but stay out of our way.''

I giggle at the cute confused look that comes on his face. He looks sort of like a puppy as he tilts his head to the side.

''How did you-''

I shake my head as I pull him along with me'' Aht Aht. We don't have time for talking.''

I pull him along with me until we're waist deep in the water'' Tẹle mi ati pe iwọ yoo rii.'' I whisper as I kiss him on the cheek. Pulling away from him I then dive into the water leaving the option to follow me up to him. As I swim further I can see my sisters and I can feel the familiar tinngling in my legs which tends to come with my transformations. Clearly the ikaki has stopped it's dance of death and now seems to be getting help staying afloat by Zuri and Zuleika. Usually ikaki are water spirits that take on the form of man-eating tortoises but they live in rivers. Not oceans, so I'm certain you can understand our confusion when we saw, or more like sensed, the ikaki's presence.

''What's going on?''

''He's disoriented and doesn't know how he got here. The last thing he remembers is eating some poor fool that got too close to him.'' Zuleika says shrugging which results in a groan from the ikaki.

I laugh'' I'm sure he was good, but we have to get you back home. Which river do you live in?''

The ikaki lets out another grunt and I nod.'' Zamfara River. Got it.''

''Nia?'' A familiar voice asks shocked

Looking behind me I smile as I see Percy.'' Just one moment.''

Zuri hands me a pearl and I kiss it causing it to glow. It floats out of my hand water swirling around it until it opens into a portal revealing a river bank.

''Here you go big guy.'' Zuri and Zu help the ikaki through the portal making sure he's all the way through and safe on the other side before waving as the portal closes.

Turning back to Percy I smirk.'' I'm certain this isn't what you expected, huh?''

He nods slowly'' Uh...you have tails.''

Raising an eyebrow I look at the twins and their matching red tails. The bottom of their tales, however, are black. I then look down at my own tail which is a deep blue, and just above my fins is a gold ring.

I giggle'' Yes. We have tails Percy.''

Zu rolls her eyes'' Haven't you seen a mermaid before? I thought you were supposed to be a son of Poseidon?'' She teases making Zuri giggle.

''Knock it off you two.'' 

I swim closer to Percy tilting my head to the side'' We have to go. Our mother will want to know what happened.''

Percy's eyes widen and he grabs my hands.'' But how am I going to find you? What happened to the...the''

''The ikaki is safe at home.'' I laugh as I give him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth.

''And I'll find you. Don't worry.'' I give him one more kiss on the cheek before pulling away from him.

''Bye Percy~'' The twins sing teasingly before swimming away.

Giggling I blow him a kiss before swimming after the twins not missing the small 'whoa' that comes from Percy. It only makes me ore excited for our next meeting.

********************

A/N: Stupid tumblr ate my PJ stories so I’m reposting them...and if it looks weird it’s cuz I copied it from my Wattpad. 🙄 Enjoy tho!

@stars8melanin @prettyvintageafternoon

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

books books books books

[prev]

absolutely no preamble; I've been putting this off because I was trying to finish reading Ahmed faster than was physically possible before I posted this but now it's time to face reality

what have I been reading?

Book of Hours (Kevin Young) - I've been all high and mighty about not reading any books authored solely by men this year and then I completely forgot myself by reading this poetry collection. and I regret nothing; Young's reflections on loss of his father and birth of his son make for a mournful and meditative narrative that's a quick but compelling read. strongly recommend for folks who aren't super at ease reading poetry but want to change that, like myself.

Red at the Bone (Jacqueline Woodson) - sometimes I'm reminded that despite my obvious preference for speculative fiction, I'm not at all opposed to contemporary stories so long as the writing is simply exquisite. Woodson's work is sharp as ever, her prose poignant and poetic as she untangles the hurt and hope across three generations of a family shaken by an unexpected pregnancy.

The Kingdom of Copper (S.A. Chakraborty) - oh man oh my god you guys, this series does not stop and it CERTAINLY does not disappoint. I read 300 (!!!) pages of this book during one day of travel and did not once get sick of it, and A Certain Scene near the end made my cry uncontrollably. I'm going to be a little delayed getting to Empire of Gold because of my decision to dedicate June and July to new releases, and honestly that's okay with me - it would be a shame to run through a great thing too soon.

Children of Vengeance and Virtue (Tomi Adeyemi) - meanwhile, on the polar opposite end of the sequel scale... I'm gonna be real guys, I think I might have waited too long to read this. I remember Blood and Bone being a delightful, Avatar-inspired romp across Yoruba mythology - epic and massive, filled with intricate magic, a little messy in places but understandably so, given that it centered on teens tasked with fixing a very broken world. it was fun. this one was not fun. most of the book involves the narrative bending over backwards to keep Zélie and Amari constantly fighting, until Amari (spoiler alert) eventually decides to become a war criminal about it. Inan is still Inan, which is to say he's The Worst, and Zélie's new love interest is a shithead teenage mercenary whose hits all the worst "sexy dangerous bad boy" cliches. Tzain is the only one who's never done anything wrong, and that's because he was barely in this one. that's a big oof from me.

The Galaxy, and the Ground Within (Becky Chambers) - god, speaking of good things being over. this is possibly the coziest of Chambers' Wayfarers books yet, following five strangers of four different alien species stuck at one outer space truck stop thanks to an unexpected infrastructure failure. while stuck together they grapple with the usual bevy of themes Chambers explores in her books - culture, colonialism, community, connection, and what it means to be a person in a world with countless forms of personhood. it's a soft, understated end to a soft and understated series, and - surprise surprise - made me cry like a baby. also it's introduced my second favorite alien, an artsy, amiable, hedonistic lobster named Roveg who's simply a delight on all fronts.

what am I reading now?

Living A Feminist Life (Sara Ahmed) - oh man okay getting back into reading theory for fun is a slow and painful process and I cannot read this as quickly as I want but oh man. oh my god. Sara Ahmed your brain.

Sorrowland (Rivers Solomon) - the first new books of Hot Book Summer! I'm not very far in at all, but Sorrowland already has a vibe that feels very much in conversation with Octavia Butler's Parable books. and you know I love some Butler!

[nitewrighter]

Hey there, I have a writing question. How do you go about finding or picking names for your characters? Especially sci-fi/fantasy characters like your ocs? Is there a trick to it? Also, if you have any resources for this and tag them, I'd love to take a look at them if that's OK with you.

Well the process varies from character to character. When it comes to naming my own characters, I am a big fan of like... Dickensian naming conventions where the name audibly fits for the character, but also thematically fits for the character. I also like names that can kind of play off of each other. My naming process is a a combination of browsing baby name websites and... also my own intuition.

When it came to my Overwatch fankids, a lot of the names kind of cropped up organically--like in Marti's case, I wanted a name that sounded both French and Spanish, so that obviously meant a romance-language name. You have like, a longer, more feminine full name with 'Martina' but then you shorten it to a cute, practical 'Marti.' So like, she's pretty, she's feminine but also the name Martina means 'Servant of Mars' which is kind of a reference to her having a bumpier origin story than the other fankids. Marti, in my head sounded like a nickname you could easily hear in a French or Spanish language film--a little androgynous, a little streetwise, but there's also Marty McFly in the Back to the Future series, so you sort of have that "relatable everyman" element to it--someone with a good heart who is very adaptive.

For Jaime it was largely me going with "I want a name that is clearly Spanish, but also plays off of McCree's name, Jesse." So you have a little bit of that visual association with "Jesse James" but it's Spanish so y'know it's pronounced "High-may."

Rei, as I've said before, is a name that's both Hebrew and Japanese, so it fit for my "Mercy is Jewish" headcanon and also I like Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Akasha's name is a reference to the Hindu concept of "Akasha" which means "Space" or "Aether" so that's kind of foreshadowing to her being stuck in the void... Also the fact that she carries a sword and the fic title "Sword of Akasha" is literally just me making a Code Geass reference for funsies.

Seye I got from browsing a couple of Yoruba baby name websites and comparing the different interpretations of the names the sounded most pleasing to me. I remember I was looking for names which meant "Heir" or "Prince" or "Chosen One" but Seye, which means "Honor" had the winning combination of sounding the most pleasing in my head and also being memorable and easy to spell while still being distinctly Yoruba. Also it had the bonus of the little "ey" sound at the end so it kind of seemed diminutive in comparison to "Akande."

Rajeev and Samir got their names from baby name websites--and it was important to me that you had a little assonance in their names. I wanted a bit of a reversal since their moms are Egyptian and Indian--so Rajeev, who takes more after Pharah, got the Indian name, and Samir, who takes more after Symmetra, got the Arabic name... so you have a bit of a switcharoo there but there's also kind of an audio association with their respective moms' names--the "rah" sounds with Rajeev and Pharah and the "Sm" sounds with Samir and Symmetra.

With Andrea, it was pretty funny because I had all these people pouring into my inbox with name suggestions, but I wanted a name that would sound natural in Spanish, but was also common enough to be American. And Andrea means "Of Man" which y'know... she has two daddies.

"Aidan" or "Aiden" is the more common spelling of Aedan's name, but I went with "Aedan" because Aed is the Irish god of the Underworld and Moira's Goth AF.

Faustine is Faustine because Obvious Reference to Goethe's Faust is Obvious... but also it's a name that means "lucky" and she's associated with Monaco and Casinos and money.

I think like... the auditory element of my naming process is kind of hard to describe and boils down to 'vibes' a lot. Like I already tend to "hear" my writing as I'm writing it, so a lot of it is determined by "yeah this sounds right."

When it comes to my OG OC's, Val and Aria, I was 17 and very adamant that Aria was Welsh, because if she was Irish, that would make her a self-insert--so I went with "Arianwen" which means "Silver Fair" and Aria for short and this was years before I was remotely aware of Arya Stark. I know it's a common name but honestly it suits her. It feels like her, and that's what's most important.

As for Val, his full name is "Valendin Dard Felov"--which I think I grabbed from some websites on Chechen names that I've long since forgotten--but his middle name "Dard" I stole from my Indian music professor in college, Dard Neuman. Dard is a Greek name that means "Son of Zeus" but in Hindu it means "Pain of Separation." Also the last name "Felov" was a bit of a pun because my boy Val GOES THROUGH IT and I was like "heheheh he 'Fell Off.'" I was developing Val along with a lot of my worldbuilding--I was really obsessed with him being from a mountain based culture so I was taking elements from Andean and Himalayan cultures, and I gave him a Chechen name because... Caucasus. So really it's a combination of like, the kind of everyman, melodious name of Val, and a longer name that kind of ties into the worldbuilding and his own story.

When it comes to making up names, my advice is to run your made up names through google or google translate.

So in summary, the NiteWrighter Patented Method For Naming Your Characters:

1. Who do you have already named and how will that name fit in among those names?

2. What is their backstory and what conditions might influence their naming?

3. How will the name fit in among the fictional world you're working with?

4. Does it sound right--is it memorable? Can it have variations in address and still be recognizable? Do you look at the character and go, "yeah that's _______"

5. Do you just think it's neat?

6. Pace around your house. Consult the wind. Feeeeel the vibes. But also don't overthink it. But also do. This is very important.

7. Do you know someone with a cool name whose name you can just fucking steal? Like the Fae?

8. Baby name websites, I guess.

[myheartspeaksnow]

All you need is love blah blah blah

this quote kind of irks me. Because its simply not true.

The older i get the more i realize that the dominate view on love is so yt washed; to the point where i cant even relate to it. In hindsight i should've realized this earlier since society is dominated by yt people!

But seriously, this idea that as long as you have love your relationship is stable is so flawed and does not take into account how important identity and beliefs play into creating a stable relationship. 

For a Black, Christian woman (like myself) finding someone who loves me back isnt enough; not only would i feel convicted for falling in love with a non believer but I also feel responsibility for keeping black, Yoruba (my tribe) love alive. I'm watching one of my closest friends struggle with this very issue and she chose love. But down the line i know society will make her pay for this bc black women don't get to just simply choose love and be happy. 

Just like everything else, marriage is political for us.

I come to tell you this because i think i like someone else; i dont even want to admit it because there’s power in words and once i say it i cant turn back. This is scary because i cant be with this person. ever. They’re yt, possibly queer, definitely agnostic, and pretty sure they are shorter than me. All things that i honestly dont mind. He told me he just recently bought a car and all i could think about was running away with him and never looking back; just starting a new life because what i currently have set up would never allow for us to be together.

But unfortunately, the part of me that is grounded in tradition wins this battle. So i relinquish my hold on this boy before it develops into something i cant let go of. Loving him would be so cool, but probably equally as painful because even though im a free spirit, my culture, family, and religion hold importance in my life. I cant give them up.

My goal is to find someone who allows me to bring all of my identities into our relationship, but if i must make a decision, i choose peace. This means letting go of my free spirited, melodramatic lifestyle and trading it for the lifestyle my parents laid out for me: a church going, mother of two that works 9 to 5s.

This is not necessarily peaceful, but its the closest thing to it i can afford.

love is great, but, on its own it cannot sustain relationships. 

Quote:

“Love is being willing to ruin your good painting for the chance at creating a great one”

[the-a-word-2214]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Raspberry Beret

Mars Blackmon x OC

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: This is the final chapter everyone! I’d love to write for Mars again in the future but this is where this series will stop.

Summary: The finale of Raspberry Beret. You’ll have to read it to find out the ending

1,537 words

Chapter 7: New Beginnings

Mars and Lourdes, aka LuLu, decided to take a spontaneous trip to Puerto Rico a year and a half after Mars and Scarlett had started dating. Scarlett obviously tagged along because their mom was dying to finally meet the girl her son was in love with. She sounded like a wonderful person from the stories that Scarlett had heard.

The pleasant smell of the ocean breeze was the first thing that Scarlett noticed as she stepped out onto the beach that was near the place where they were staying. The people that they had met had been trying to rebuild their homes from the hurricane that hit. They were some of the most passionate and hard-working people that she’d ever met. The street artists were incredible too. Mosaics and murals lined nearly every single wall that she came across.

One night while they were there, they spent most of the evening at the beach. The stars were beautiful and so the midnight star gazing commenced. In their bathing suits, they laid and stared at the stars. Their fingers intertwined. Mars turns his head to look at the woman, a smile on his face. “I love you.” He mumbled as he gently squeezed her hand. She smiled back at him and gently kissed his knuckles. “I love you too, Mars. You’re out of this world.” He raises his eyebrows and smirks. “You know it, baby. Baby, you know it and shit.” He trailed off as he leaned his head on her shoulder. She rolled onto her stomach so that she was hovering over him, his hand came up to cup her cheek. “What is it, Mami?” He questions her as her hands settle on his chest. “Nothing...I just- I love looking at you.” No words could express how she felt at that moment. She knew that he probably felt a swell of pride for his home island and the emotion of everything was getting to her.

Mars sat up with her and did the only logical thing. He kissed her, passionately. Butterflies fluttered in their stomachs as they felt an insane amount of genuine love for each other. The passion in their kiss was nearly unbearable. Once they needed air they broke apart.

The next day LuLu, Mars, and Scarlett stopped by Doña Lucy’s house. Yoruba religious symbols filled the area. The three of them sat down on the plastic-covered couch, both Mars and Lourdes cringing at the feeling of the slick plastic. “I hated this couch as a kid,” Mars said as he rubbed his hands over it. “I can imagine why.” Scarlett chuckled as she looked at the material. A short, older woman walked in who had on elaborate earrings and a white flowery dress. Mars stood up and let his mother pepper his face with kisses. “A’ight, mom! Mom cut it out.” He protested as his mom looked him over. “Look at you, you still look like my baby.” She had a thick New York accent. He laughed as he brought his hands up to her shoulders. “Ma this is Scarlett.” He says as he turns towards the blonde. She holds out her hand for her to shake. “Oh, you can do better than that.” She says as she opens her arms for a hug. Scarlett bends down to hug the smaller woman.

Doña Lucy then reaches up to pinch her son’s cheek. “I see you’re smitten with my boy. I hope you know that you’re a lucky lady.” Scarlett giggles as she nods. “Yes ma’am. I’m very lucky.” Lucy motions for her to take a seat as she goes into the kitchen. The awkward tension in the air could be practically cut with a knife. Lucy was banging around in the kitchen as the siblings and Scarlett sat in silence. Mars looked to the kitchen with a knowing look and wiped his glasses with his shirt. After she set out a bowl as an offering she motioned for everyone to sit at the table. Everyone obeyed as they sat at the kitchen table, eating out of clay bowls.

“So Scarlett, honey, do you love my son?” Mars practically chokes on the food in his mouth as his mother proceeds to grill her. She gives the woman a soft smile, “of course I do. He’s wonderful.” Lucy nods and motions towards her son. “You two are practically sewn from the same cloth. Their father and I were oil and water though.” Mars stops chewing and looks at his mother. Lourdes does the same. Their mother’s face softens as she turns her attention back to Scarlett. “You two seem as happy as you can be, though. I hope you hold onto that.” The rest of the dinner went very well. Doña Lucy turned out to be a lot like her son in the sense that she was hilarious and had just as much of a foul mouth as him.

That night in bed, Scarlett was half asleep when she felt the bed dip beside her. Mars was kneeling beside the bed, his hands together in a prayer position. “God? It’s me, Mars. I want to learn how to help these dope people. They work so hard at what they do. I’m down to learn if you’re down to teach me.” Scarlett had heard everything that he said. It was almost childlike, the way that he spoke.

The next day, Lucy called her son over for a conversation. It was more of a reality check, honestly. She called him over to sit next to her in her room. “Why’d you call me here?” He questioned as he turned his attention towards her. “I know that you love this girl but, Hijo, you’ve gotta grow up. If you ever wanna provide for her then you have to be strong. Be a man!” Mars acknowledges his mother’s words as he nods. “I know, I know. Lulu doesn’t have no trouble with tellin’ me that every fucking day.” He explains as he runs a hand through his hair. Lucy pats her son’s shoulder as she sighs. “I bet she does. Promise me that you’ll try, a’ight?” She teases as she speaks in his usual tone. He smiles, “cross my heart hope to die, mamá.” He says as he makes a cross over his heart. He never broke that promise. He had to do better for Scarlett. Mars had vowed that while they were there, with his family, he would propose to Scarlett. It would be the ultimate vow of commitment and it would show that he actually wanted to try for Scarlett’s well being. He picked a ring out with his sister one night when Scarlett was preoccupied with taking photos along the way. He had everything planned out, he would propose while they were on the beach surrounded by his family. “This is gonna be mad lit, LuLu!” He had exclaimed to his sister. The ring was perfect, the setup was perfect.

Their last night in PR was spent mostly on the beach. The Blackmon’s cousins were spending the day with them as they danced their hearts away to the music that was playing. Scarlett was stealing glances at Mars as she danced with one of his younger cousins. He watched in awe as she picked up the little girl and spun her around. The group began to gather together as Mars brought Scarlett closer to the middle of the beach. “What are we doing, Mars? Where are you taking me?” She asked as she looked around at the cousins who only smiled in response. “Trust, baby. We’re just gonna be right here.” He explained as he took her hands and began to kneel down on one knee. Scarlett had an idea of what was going to happen but she didn’t really think he would do it.

He mustered up all the courage he could as he looked up into her eyes. “Scarlett Lewis...you’re my whole world. You put up with all my shit and you don’t take anything from anyone. You’re great at what you do and there’s no one like you in this fucking crazy world. That’s straight facts.” He laughs as he looks towards his cousins who return the gesture. He looks back to her as tears threaten to fall. For the first time in his life, he’s intimidated. He begins to doubt his abilities to provide for this woman who had given him everything. She cared for him when no one else would. His voice cracked as he began to speak again, “I love you, baby. Y-You’re my everything. Now...will you marry me, Mami?” Tears were now streaming down Scarlett’s face as he pulled out a small box with a diamond-studded ring. The jewel itself was a pear-shaped sapphire. It was Scarlett’s birthstone. Of course it was. Everything about that moment was perfect. Scarlett ended up speechless as she vigorously nodded as he slipped the ring onto her finger. The surrounding future in-laws cheered and whistled as the couple shared a short yet passionate kiss. Their arms were tangled around each other as they shared a chuckle, their foreheads touching. They later shared champagne and danced the night away. New beginnings were headed their way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Your Father’s Eyes

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Past Thor x Reader who can get pregnant, gender neutral pronouns

Warning: Some angst

Writer: @imaginesofeveryfandom​ aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​​

Summary/Request: Thor returns after five years to find that you’re not alone anymore.

Note: Obi is being used as a gender neutral term in place of mother or father. It’s parent in Yoruba. Obviously when you read you can mentally substitute it for your preferred term x

It’s short but I wanted to focus on that one scene and backstory.

After the snap you had assumed that Thor was dead...because you never saw him again. You didn’t hear tale of him on the news or receive any letters or phone calls or mentions of him. So like so many other people, you’d simply assumed he’d been one of the ones lost. This was difficult at first simply because he’d been your partner and you’d loved him. It got increasingly more difficult when you realised that you were pregnant with his child and he wasn’t around to help. You hadn’t really envisioned yourself as a parent, at least not right then, you’d always thought it would be a little bit more...well, planned. But, you loved your son, even if you hadn’t expected to have him so soon.

Bragi was a beautiful child, he had your hair and your skin, but his eyes were the unmistakable shape and deep blue colour of Thor’s. Even his smile reminded you of the God. He was a shy child. At five years old he preferred to let you lead with strangers and often hid behind your legs until he felt more comfortable. He wasn’t a very wild five year old, he preferred to sit and read books with you or draw pictures than run around wrecking havoc. The perfectly little angel really, but you worried about how reserved he was.

You never hid information about Thor from him, you’d told him how his father had been an amazing super hero and how he was funny and bold. But, you never knew how to tell him that he was dead, so you simply said he was off doing important super hero business. Bragi never questioned you, never doubted you, and it made you dread the day that your lie came back to haunt you.

You were sat together at the kitchen table drawing on brightly coloured paper with crayons when a knock sounded at your front door. You smiled down at Bragi, ruffled his hair a little, and told him, “Keep drawing, i’ll go see who it is, okay, baby?”

He simply nodded, not even looking up from his drawing of a fish and you knew he would be fine for the few minutes you’d be at the front door. Your first thought was that it must have been the post man, until you remembered that the post had already been delivered. Then you wondered if it was one of your friends or perhaps family, that was ruled out by the large shadow at the glass of your door. Your friends weren’t that large.

You couldn’t deny a little worry as you turned the handle, but it was the middle of the day and you knew it was probably a parcel delivery or some such. Except that it wasn’t. You inhaled sharply at the face before you because that face shouldn’t have been there, you could feel tears forming at the sight of long blonde hair, familiar blue eyes and a sad smile. A face you never thought you’d see again.

“Y/N...” He is haggard looking. Tired. He is very different, but yet so familiar.

“Obi?” The call stopped you from responding as a little body wrapped itself around the back of your leg. Bragi was clinging onto you with his little arms, shyly peering up at the stranger at your door. He had obviously gotten curious and left his drawing behind.

Thor’s eyes glanced down at the child, confusion turned briefly to anger to disappointment, back to confusion, to recognition and finally to realisation. In those moments you realised just how much he’d changed. He didn’t jump to conclusions. He didn’t yell or accuse you. He took his time to take it all in. To take in you standing there, a little boy wrapped around your leg, his blue eyes unmistakable. His face familiar. The boy was a perfect mix of the two of you, so obviously your child and so obviously Thor’s.

“Mine?”

You nodded, before crouching down to the level of your son, ruffling his hair again to take his attention off of Thor. Brushing a calming thumb across his cheek, “Bragi, this is your daddy,” You watch your son process this. Watch him turn to look up at Thor, taking him in, deciding if he fit his imagined idea of his father. You’re relieved when the shyness seems to go as he realises this big, rather raggedly looking man is the super hero from all your stories. That he is the man he’d always waited to come back.

“Daddy.” He points at Thor before smiling widely, his arms held open. He always did that when he wanted a hug. His way of asking without speaking. You urged Thor with a look and watched as he lifted your son so carefully, as if he was scared he would break. It was the first time your son looked more confident than the adult holding him.

“Why don’t you tell him a story? About one of your adventures?” You suggested hoping it would make Thor more comfortable, give him a sense of what to do.

You found yourself sat in the living room for the better part of the day listening to super hero stories and watching Bragi brighten at each word. Thor seemed to brighten too and you wondered what terrible things he’d had to see and do to look so haggard, so different from the overly jovial man you’d known.

You decided that could wait. The hard conversations could wait. For now you’d simply reveal in the feeling of happiness that seeing your son so joyful brought. That knowing Thor was alive brought. You had never imagined this moment was possible.

[pushermania]

(Pushermania Network)Please to enjoy the craziness of this scheisser and feel free to reblog and share with all your friends via sms or whatever service you use. GRACIAS!

Dizzee Rascal, Oceans Wisdom - Don't Be Dumb Goodie Mob - Try We Conway The Machine - Frontlines DJ Kayslay, Conway the Machine, Sheek Louch, Jhonni Blaze - Where Is The Love? Your Old Droog, Mach Hommy, El-P, Tha God Fahim, Black Thought - Pravda Ill Bill, Conway The Machine, Pharoahe Monch - Be Afraid

Budos Band - Mierda De Toro (Bullshit in Spanish) Butcher Brown - Frontline Camarao Orkestra - Guerreiro Yoruba Kahil El Zaber - That We Ask Of Our Creator The Usaisamonster - Nothing and Everything

The Versatile Omirans - GQOM Brought Back Phelimuncasi - Ngavele Ngagaxela Distruction Boys - Madness DJ Lag - Momish Rude Boys - Umshudo Naked Boys - Divorce Naked Boys - Storyteller Gaika - Chrome TLC Fam - Baleka (Theme) TLC Fam - Isbethelo seGqom Emo Kid - Ground Shaker The Versatile Omirans - Step Down

Bird Peterson - Shavasana Nameless - Moonchild Loops Jupiter & Okwess - Bakunda Ulu Public Enemy, Mike D, Ad Rock, Run DMC - Public Enemy #1

Bisi x Gavin Hardkiss - River of Babylon Celeste Krishna & Monarchs - Wanna Be Eimaral Sol - 10k Khrangbin - Pelota Howie Lee - The Border Audrey Chen & Kaffe Matthews - Breathing air as Dark TJ Boyce - Ghetto America Run the Jewels - No Save Point

[lamilso]

Come Away (2020) FULL HD 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 (𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎) 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐃 🗓️ Release Date : 10 December 2020 . 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 : Eight-year-old Alice (Keira Chansa), her mischievous brother Peter (Jordan A. Nash) and their brilliant older sibling David (Reece Yates) let their imaginations run wild one blissful summer in the English countryside. Encouraged by their parents Jack and Rose (David Oyelowo and Angelina Jolie), the kids' make-believe tea parties, sword fights and pirate ship adventures come to an abrupt end when tragedy strikes. Peter, eager to prove himself a hero to his grief-stricken and financially-struggling parents, journeys with Alice to London, where they try to sell a treasured heirloom to the sinister pawnshop owner known as C.J. (David Gyasi). Returning home, Alice seeks temporary refuge in a wondrous rabbit hole while Peter permanently escapes reality by entering a magical realm as leader of the "Lost Boys." . 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 ⬇️      ⬇️      ⬇️      ⬇️ . 🎬 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 🎬 . ⬆️      ⬆️      ⬆️      ⬆️ . 🗓️ Release Date : 10 December 2020 ⏰ Runtime : 94 minutes 📂 Genres : Fantasy, Adventure, Drama 💼 Production Company  : Fred Films, Yoruba Saxon Productions 🌎 Production Countries  : United Kingdom, United States of America 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 Casts : Angelina Jolie, David Oyelowo, Jordan A. Nash, Keira Chansa, Michael Caine, Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Derek Jacobi, Anna Chancellor, Clarke Peters, David Gyasi, Roger Ashton-Griffiths 🏷️ Plot Keywords : woman director

[bendoesblogs]

Burna Boy: Twice As Tall - A Review

5 out of 5

Damini Ebunolowa Ogulu, better known by his stage name Burna Boy has taken the music industry by storm, and his new album ‘Twice As Tall’ shows he has no intention of slowing down. The African Giant describes his music as Afro-fusion, a genre that combines dancehall riddems, with reggae and American rap. August Brown of The Los Angeles Times explains Burna Boy’s sounds as “savvy, modern, but undistracted by obvious crossover moves.” Ogulu is unafraid to explore these depths, unconcerned by critics’ opinions, and often this is when an artist produces their best work. In this instance, it has undeniably worked. 

The 29 year old Nigerian is reaching new heights with ‘Twice As Tall’. The introduction to the album is a short film titled ‘Secret Flame’, displaying how Ogulu is breaking new boundaries. Like many, as a child, Ogulu was fascinated by superheroes, hence the name Burna Boy. The short film ‘Secret Flame’ depicts Burna Boy as a modern day superhero. It is a story of origin, one that details his rise to fame having just released hit single ‘Ye’, in 2018. Following this, during Burna Boy’s set at the o2, he is called upon by the Yoruba Deity, Orunmilla. He is approached by Eleri Ipin, the God who watches over the fates of men, who explains that Ogulu has been called in at a time of crisis. Burna Boy then embarks on a journey of realisation concluding: ‘The pain of dying to self is nothing compared to the freedom of true sight.” Upon the release of the album ‘Twice As Tall’ Burna Boy is once more summoned, the Gods explain to him: “You make music passionately, like you are waging a war” He later returns to his set at the o2 Arena, performing with the knowledge that he is now serving a higher purpose.

The realisation of the higher purpose Ogulu now serves sets the tone for the album. The album is a combination of dancehall classics in tracks like ‘Wonderful’, and ‘Bank On It’, combined with politically fused songs such as ‘Monsters You Made’ in which Burna rages about structural violence and the ways it breeds interpersonal harm, as well as ‘Time Flies’ in which Ogulu sings: “From the Niger Delta, to all the corners of Africa, America and the world. Black people are turning the tables, taking back our place. We will be heard because we matter.” Fela Kuti, Burna Boy’s main inspiration previously said: “As far as Africa is concerned, music cannot be for enjoyment, music has to be for a revolution.” Burna certainly took this message on board, despite the album being a cause of serious enjoyment, it also produces thought-provoking music that challenges the societal norm, all whilst paying homage to his home nation.

Through dismissing the temptation of following the classic mainstream route that follows celebrity status, and continuing to pay homage to his heritage, Burna Boy now finds himself as a role model for many, and has fully embraced the role. At the end of ‘Secret Flame’ Burna Boy explains reasoning for this: “My people say it is in looking back at the journey’s end that the path becomes clear. Every man will fail, but not all fail forward. Everyone can dream of greatness, but very few truly hold on to it. Hold on to your heritage and never be ashamed.” 

Burna Boy has firmly shown he is bigger than music, but in the least egocentric way possible. He has noticed his music can be used as a vehicle for positive change, and is running with it. He is now a key figure head of the burning need for equality around the world, and in doing so has produced one of the best albums of 2020.

[clowdydrecms]

oh i forgot i literally wrote up three new muses a while ago and like...never did anything with them. so yeah while i work on adding these lil shit’s to my theme check under the cut for a little run down on my new guys !

grey williams // twenty four // trust fund baby // thomas doherty 

grey is actually orion’s half brother, their father cheated on orion’s mother with their maid - grey’s mother. when he found out that he’d gotten her pregnant their father fired his mother ( though he did offer her a significant severance package of over a million dollars under the condition that they move out of nyc and never tell his new wife of his indiscretion ) when grey’s mom left nyc she wasn’t aware that his wife was also pregnant with a boy until they both gave birth thousands of miles apart on the same day. may 7, 1997 orion’s mom went into labor naturally and grey’s mom had to get a c-section because of a medical emergency, ry’s mom had support and love and grey’s mom gave birth, all alone with nobody there to help her. grey stayed in the NICU for 3 months and for a while the doctors didn’t think he’d make it. grey has always wondered why his mother never dated and always looked so sad, she suffered severely from postpartum depression and grey spent a lot of time with his aunt and uncle who more or less raised him. he learned pretty early on not to ask about his father because it would lead to big emotional displays and grey has never been the biggest fan of feelings. he’s a very logical person, he’s very blunt and straightforward. he’s never really had to try hard at anything, never worried about his future or had many plans for his life beyond doing whatever the hell he wanted. he’s got a bit of a coke problem and loves drinking. 

cedrick hemingway // thirty one // writer - focus on dark fiction and poetry he’s this generations ‘edgar allan poe’ // matthew daddario

cedrick and freddie grew up with a deep love of literature, they were the kids who would write stories for each other and slide them under the other’s door. their mother loved to tell them that their love of books rand in their blood, they were descended from ernest hemingway afterall. cedrick loves poetry and dark twisted stories, after the murder of his mother that love only intensified. he’d write stories of how he thought the killer found their mom and what might have happened while they were together. he doesn’t talk about that part of his life really. he’s sarcastic, selfish, hot headed, forgetful and tbh has a terrible drinking problem but thinks that he can’t stop or he’ll lose his ‘muse’. rick is the kind of guy that’d go out of his way to help you, tbh probably sugars a few girls because he’s not the best at forming organic connections and the idea of paying someone to hang out with him is a lot less intimidating than hoping that someone will genuinely like you for who you are. 

micah zamora // twenty seven // architect // keith powers

the zamora men are notorious for being, well kind of trash. micah is no exception to the rules, while maman spends all of her time with the girls teaching them yoruba and etc papa is the one who raised the boys. they’d spend their time in the church with him, listening to his sermons and watching women fall at his feet. papa was the kind of man who taught his sons how to well, be just like him. so for a while micah thought he’d go into seminary school but after middle school he had to be honest and tell pop that he wasn’t sure if he even believed in god. that was a blowup of epic proportions but i digress. micah is more of the romantic, sweep you off your feet kind of player. the one who opens door for you, brings your mom flowers and telling you that you’re his ideal wife all the while you never know that he’s doing the same thing for like, three other women. he’s energetic, funny, kind, generous, thoughtful and bc he was raised around so many women he genuinely does care about them and their well being unlike some of my shitheads.