#im aware black isn't brown...it's black

[hyuckiestarz]

Thinking of Jeno’s blonde highlights and how it’s made for him but I’m wondering if you have a favorite Haechan hair color? I feel purple is his color, I loved his purple hair !!!

any type of brown hair on him will do it every time i fear (light brown, honey brown, ginger, dark brown, even black 💔)

i think im just down bad for his long hair ngl

[sweettomyhoney]

Being a WAG is a job. They're supposed to marry conventionally pretty women who fit a certain mold and are, for a lack of better word, bland.

Blond, pretty but not too pretty, Instagram influencer chick, as little public personality as possible.

These women are marketing tools, sometimes nothing more and beards and baby incubators with the lifelong nanny inckuded, and as such they have to follow the rules of the market. That they are also enforcing themselves.

And in a racist society? It's a racist market.

Which is why a turncoat like PK Subban will always bow down to what mainstream wants.

A black, brown, or heck, even white woman with dark hair or non-Insta looks will never be permitted in the public eye.

The NHL isn't going along with the racism, it's the pipeline that upholds racism in general society.

European players might break that mold, but not publicly. Their wives will exist, if anything, out of the public eye, the magazins or social media posts.

AND something that tumblr won't want to hear, but the gossip blogs are a HUGE part of it.

They infest each new generation with the idea of how a WAG has to be like, by putting them on pedestals and mocking people like Sidney Crosby's partner as somehow "failed" for not fitting that mold.

Ut's a whole racist system, it teaches fans, it teaches players from the get go, and it teaches the public what to do and what to expect:

White, blond, outwardly traditional house wife.

Like a 50's segregated white society's dream.

IM ON YOUR ASS!

First of all, why are you bringing this to my doorstep, when there are multiple other gossip blogs who actually insult Sidney Crosby’s wife?

Let me ask my followers have I ever been known to do some shit like that?

No

Why do you feel the need to always come to black women with your grievances? Go to the white bitches you have problems with.

We always empower women on this page except the ones who wanna go toe to toe with a bitch like me and want to uphold racist shit. And that includes wags as well.

I’m using my platform to hopefully make a difference. And make other people aware on how the NHL and these players need to do better.

And somehow you have a fucking problem with me still!

Bitch get the fuck out my face.

If you don’t feel like this community is capable of changing and making a difference I don’t think you have a dog in this fight.

To assume that black women and women are color are not the fucking blueprint for you white hoes is diabolical as well.

You kind of ride in the fence bitch and I don’t like that shit.

I feel like you’re oop.

We hold men accountable on this page so I don’t know what the fuck y’all talking about we tearing down women.

I just made a post on Valentine’s Day saying that Jamie needed to up his game when it comes to spoiling his girlfriend. I love to see a woman win !

I hope that these girls are running these men’s pockets for every dime and dollar that they got!

Move around hoe!

[autumnteawithfriends]

before I start this little rant I just want to say that I 100% agree that vivzie canonizing alastor as mixed was the most bullshit way to save her self from the voodoo allegations and I don't condone all of the terrible stuff she has done and her inconsistent writing (I'm just saying this because my take might make me look like a vivzie stan lol)

But as a mixed person (I have light brown skin and curly hair), seeing people constantly claim that because alastor has pale (ashy af) skin and straight hair means he isn't mixed leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I suffered alot with racial imposter syndrome when I was younger and I never felt like I was "black enough" to be accepted into poc environments. And people seem to forget that if your mixed with black and white, that your also part white. And that your skin can be light and you don't need to have curly hair to be mixed. Now alastor is definitely just a cheap excuse because he litterally has no black features what so ever (like darker skin, curly hair, flatter nose, or bigger lips), but seeing everyone always portray him with dark brown skin and curly hair just shows that some people really do sometimes forget that not all mixed people are brown with curly hair lol

(I love your posts btw and I'm not saying that you are like this at all btw!! I'm just too much of a pussy to post this on my blog because im scared of stans lol, keep up the good work!)

Thanks for the ask! (And thanks for the compliment)

Yeah like, while I agree that Alastor’s POC coding definitely sucks since it’s obviously a last minute addition if you’re aware of the Voodoo controversy. A pet peeve I have with Alastor redesigns is that they sometimes make this man seem like he’s fully brown instead of mixed Creole like Viv stated he was. Also on a side note, a pet peeve I have with some Hazbin redesigns is that they usually go as creative as they want with the other characters, but when it comes to the POC characters (or sometimes just Alastor) they just give them brown skin and features from whatever ethnicity their from. Like, while I do like that redesigns actually make the POC characters look POC, it’s also kinda boring at the same time because some are willing to give Nifty whatever color skin they like (since she’s a insect) and Lilith purple sometimes. But they just give the POC characters brown/black skin and ethnic features and call it a day? (I hope this makes sense)

Also admittedly, I feel like Velvette’s coding is worse than Alastor’s because I believe she’s supposed to be fully coded as black instead of mixed (she’s voiced by a black voice actress to) yet she has the same ashy grey skin like-what the hell is the coding in Hazbin Hotel. This also applies to the Seraphim sisters (except Sera personally because at least she has darker skin compared to Emily)

Yeah, Viv’s coding legitimately sucks ass

[issuesntissues]

when 141 accidentally breaks/ruins something of yours 😬

Price

you'd just finished a drawing you spent hours on, and ran to show price! (he was very proud, gave you one of his rare smiles)

you said you'd go to the restroom for a moment, and left the paper on his desk

as he picked it up to admire it once more, he knocked over his coffee mug, and cursed as the brown liquid spread all over the page

immediately as he grasped it the soggy page tore, and the ink blurred together into a black mess

when you came back he looked downright embarrassed, his face and ear tips red

"spilled my damn coffee all over it...sorry love..."

you tell him its no big deal, but he can see the tears welling in your eyes

his pursed lips and downcast expression made your heart ache, and you gave him a genuine arm pat, pulling yourself together

he promised the next drawing you made would be framed in his office for him to look at everyday 🫶

Ghost

You’d shown him the brand new sun glasses you ordered, and he definitely approved

you were curious about how they’d look on him so you handed him the pair

he took them, squinting as he turned them around in his hands, then attempted to put them over his mask

with a loud snap! the frames fell apart, pieces clinking on the floor below

“oh, fuck me…sorry darling…” he sounded slightly embarrassed as he handed the broken glasses back to you

you brushed it off as an accident, but you were disappointed you didn’t get to wear them for very long

ghost meanwhile felt horrible, and it nagged in the back of his brain for the whole day

he gives you one of his own pairs later, and you took them happily, promising to take good care of them 🫶

he thinks you look hot asf with them on too

Soap

you just finished unwrapping a new favorite mug for your collection, and set it on a table for display

while you went off to do something in another room, soap decides to handle your new item, tracing the intricate engravings in the ceramic

as you returned, he spoke, "aye this is nice...where'd you get—" he didn't get to finish as while he tried swapping the mug to his other hand, he fumbled it, and it went shattering all over the flooring below

your face immediately scrunched up in despair and soap grimaced

"hells fuckin' bells bonnie, im sorry." he cursed, his accent thicker from his embarrassment

he kneeled to start picking up the pieces, and you noticed little shards cutting into his skin but he didn't complain, and so you helped him

afterwards you clean and bandage up his hand, and after more apologies, he promised he'd get you a new mug 🫶

Gaz

gaz isnt prone to breaking a lot of things; he's very careful & self aware. but alas, he isn't perfect

you'd just finished a puzzle in the break room and you were super excited to show the task force

Gaz was the most impressed and excited, and then—

"hey! have you ever tried picking it up in one piece?" oh no—

as soon as he attempted, the puzzle fell apart immediately, the pieces clattering all over the floor

you bit your lip and attempted not to cry, but your body betrayed you, and the fat tears rolled down your cheeks

after being scolded by the team for a good half an hour, he spent days putting that puzzle back together just for you,,

swore he'd never ever make you cry again

he framed the puzzle afterwards ❤️

[p0wderedmarbl3s]

Sometimes I forget people with common sense exist and see black and brown people as humans even in the fiction characters that represent them in the same way they see whites because it's so rare and exhausting

Especially in the TOH fandom, its why i try to stick to my corner but im well aware of the impact such things can have on the real children who see themselves in the characters and live through the topics white fans through around like nothing and fetishize, as i grew attached to luz when I first watched when I was 13 bc she was just like me

And living in Europe where I am fetishize and harassed for existing, and treated like my discomfort and anger isn't justified or "too much" is very funny. There is no accountability because we are not seen worthy enough and it's tiring to have no space to exist peacefully online or otherwise

Really just a rant bc I'm tired and white racists in the fandom for a show for Children acting sad for making propaganda that the children you put in danger with such depictions Will See is irritating even if it's always been a thing. People will forget because they value it more over us because we are never seen as human enough. It's tiring, and we never get "apology" that isn't littered with excuse and dodging the actual responsibility.

They only get upset when you call it the predatory behavior that it is like I haven't lived it firsthand. Because I'm a human being who knows exactly what I say with it because I've lived it.

But God forbid you make them uncomfortable, can't make the whites aware of the very real damage they can do in a world that's actively killing and trafficking and raping our people and the way your propaganda contributes to the cycle that's happened for years, in a place that grooms OUR children's minds into thinking it's okay

It's always "oh its just a problem of interpretation" and never "i take responsibility and did not mean to depict things in a way that has been used to romanticize and justify the rape of your children and women for centuries, i may not be fully educated but i will listen and be more aware and research more". Because it's always our fault and never theirs

I've been pregnant before.

I think I know what I'm talking about better than whiny whites who will never live the way we do because of our skin and how "exotic" we are to them.

Anyway rant over, I do not care how upset you get when you don't address things properly and don't see us human enough to make an attempt

[fl0w3rf3mm3-main]

okay the way the fandom draws hobie brown is such an interesting indication into the way subconscious racial stereotypes play into characterization and it's,,,it's just interesting.

now, i spend A Lot of time in this fandom. and something i've noticed a lot of is hobie brown being drawn HUGE. like, they're making mans into a TANK. and he's just,,,not that??

like yeah, he has broad shoulders, and he's tall, but that's literally just most any black teen boy let's be honest. if you look at his actual canonical character design, he is LANKY. and yet everyone is drawing him super buff. now at first i didn't think much of it--people like buff men, and fanartists are always gonna take some liberties (honestly, i love when they put their special little twists on the characters). but as i saw it more and more, it bothered me more and more and felt a lot more indicative of some underlying biases within the fandom.

hobie being mischaracterized and stereotyped isn't shocking or new, but that mischaracterization leaking into physical depictions of him is! not to get too deep into it, but throughout american history*, black men have not been able to protect their loved ones in any way other than physical thanks to slavery and horrid mistreatment within an inherently racist system. thus gave birth to the trope of the big, aggressive black man who solves his problems with his twists. and after that, the big aggressive black man who is actually a sweetheart on the inside, but just has raging anger issues (and probably an abusive father as well).

*im aware that movie!hobie is not american and that not the entire fandom is either, but seeing as a large chunk of it is, and are going to be viewing hobie through an american lense, i think this is an appropriate connection to make. also, african slavery was very much a thing outside of america as well. also ALSO, the rest of the worlds perception of black men is affected by american (and english) views just because of how huge the two countries are within the global landscape.

now, the reason this was even bothering me at all in the first place is because when i first watched the movie, the fact that hobie wasn't overly muscular was super novel to me. i was glad that we got to see a black male character who was strong without taking strength from others, loud without obnoxiously talking over others, violent without being aggressive, assertive without being framed as forgetting this place or naive about the world. in terms of personal experience, it pisses me just that bit more than the last time whenever i hear my father insist to my (very sensitive and emotional) brother that the proper way to deal with any and every problem was by fighting. i was glad my brother (severely lacking in good black male role models) got to see this cool guy, someone you're meant to look up to, who is strong without being ripped and punching all of his problems. that black masculinity is more than how well you can fight.

so, the way a lot of the fandom forces hobie into this box, this preconceived idea of what a black man (or boy, more like, but the erasure of childhood from black kids is a topic all its own) should be, just. sits wrong.

[bazooka-overkill]

hi again I’m the one who had the hc abt tiger’s clones bein ghosts :) I have another one for ya if you’re interested, it’s about don!

I hc that Don has botanokinesis, or plant manipulation. It’s a basic power, if he’s in a good mood, he’ll nurture any plant life he touches. If the opposite is true, plants will wilt. (which is why his rose regains its color in title defense if he wins)

the spooky part comes in where the power affects don physically. it makes some kind of dark/black sprawling pattern grow over parts of his body and little red dots to appear instead of his pupils (the growths are namely on his fingertips and around his eyes, but also his lips, his cheeks, his chest, etc.)

the scariest part is that his power *can* harm living beings other than plant life. if he were to grab onto someone while he were upset, it would feel super cold, and if he held on long enough, you’d actually feel your limb going numb. pretty scary stuff! but hey, that’s my kinda stuff

beuhh im in the middle of pe class right now so excuse any typos😛 (currently lying on the bleachers. my elbows hurt a lot rn)

STOP this makes a lot more sense abt his rose,,, gives an actual explanation to why his rose just suddenly. turns black or vise versa. i've always assumed that it's one of those magician's rose(?) if that makes sense

is this why he turned emo in TD LMAOO /j

wait stop imagine carmen buys some flowers or something and they die within like a week n she's all sad about them. don stops in and he's like "don't worry😎" and makes them all healthy again. i actually cannot word this romantically but yall get what i mean

the markings on his body sound unsettling imo— which i luvvv omg— and it's interesting to think abt. knowing how sassy extravagant (if that's the right word) he is, don most likely buys CRATESS of concealer to hide the markings that he can't hide while in the ring. i'd assume most of the boxers are aware of don's botanokinesis, but the audience isn't, so any boxers walking into the locker rooms would probably walk in on don caking his chest in expensive concealer to hide the markings LMFAOOO

he's also got brown contacts to hide the little red dots in his eyes. it's a pain in the ass to have them on in the ring, but it's an even bigger pain in the ass to explain to people why your pupils are tiny red dots yk (#justdonflamencothings💕)

whenever don gets asked about his "magic rose" in interviews or by fans, he usually just dances around it by saying "a magician never reveals his secrets" or something like that. little do they know🤨

he definitely keeps all the roses he gets thrown at him in his victory (?) animation and nurtures them back to full health whenever they get all wilted. don keeps them in this giant vase that sits on his balcony/near a window and he treats them like his kids 100%. in addition to those, he has a shit ton of other plants in his living space as well

AND THAT ALSO EXPLAINS WHY HE ALWAYS HAS THAT FUCKIN ROSE W HIM IN THE RING... he's always nurturing it back to life😭😭 but with this head canon i'm now permanently sayinf that the rose seen in every single cutscene is the same exact one. it was given to him by carmen on their first date and, when not in the ring, is either in its own special vase at home or somewhere safe in his bag/locker. his locker had a separate vase in it just for this rose

but yah,, i luv this head canon now.

this is actually canon now

[destinyc1020]

I have a confession for this Sunday and I’m stating right now that I’m aware I’m gonna get backlash. Im a dark skinned black woman and though I’m fan of Zendaya I’m quite passive when I see comments that attack her or her brand or I don’t defend her online or on social places as much as I would do as a dark skinned actress. I think this opinion was sparked from the Spice and Erica Mena situation and Pinkydoll controversy.

Im aware this is very problematic to admit and honestly feel. I’m here for the backlash lol. I’m in my late teens and I’ve really learned about colorism especially in the entertainment and I know that Z has acknowledged her light skinned privilege and goes for roles meant for white women. I support her but not as much as I do darker skinned actresses. I obviously want to change this way of thinking because I love Z and I’m aware this is really on me than her but, I really want to see a dark skin black girl win. Just one.

One who is under the age of 30 and over 18 being considered a desirable love interest who isn’t no shade in the demographic of Viola and Angela. One especially that isn’t ratchet as Sexyy Red and Sukiana(I love them as artists but love the message they leave out of black girls isn’t ideal). It pains me that the last it girl was Lupita and before ppl say what about Keke, first Keke is brown and second I love her but her personal life is a lil messy for me.

Again, I want to reiterate that this is a confession that might get me jumped and I’m prepared for it lol. I just find it sad that as black girls when don’t have our The Summer I turned Pretty or actress who is a Florence Pugh equivalent meaning that she’s everywhere lol. I’m also aware that Z truly has broken so many boundaries, no other light skin black actress has won a Emmy not once but twice in history. I’m aware of her limitations in that industry. I find it crazy that Challengers is her first leading role backed by a big studio at the age of 27 when her yt peers have been offered roles from as young as 16 maybe. The black actresses previous to her usually get their first leading roles in their early 30s or if your Viola 50s. It’s triumphant actually.

Now that I’m typing this all out, I’m aware I’m more angry at entertainment industry than Z as an individual. She didn’t ask to be the token black girl of Hollywood. I realise that it’s a competitive industry, no one can predict anyones career arch one could have in that industry. I’m sorry for this long winded confession but I really love blog and as a black woman I find comfort on how open you are to opinions that aren’t your own and are still so respectful. That’s my confession and I hope you have a nice Sunday!!!!!

Hey Anon!

Awww....first of all, let me give you a hug... 🥰

Don't worry, you are in a Safe Space here on "Confession Sunday". That means, I won't judge, and no Anons should be jumping down your throat as long as you're respectful, honest, and are genuine in your feelings.

Anyway... Whew! Where do I begin? I feel like you spoke a word with your post. I actually feel like your ask was worded very well? I think you got your point across, and you even came to the realization of where your REAL frustration lies: And that's with the Entertainment Industry itself.

I can't tell you how many times Anon I have felt the same exact way. Like you, my disappointment isn't really with Zendaya or any other biracial/fair-skinned actresses out here. My disappointment and frustration lies with the racist and colorist society in which we live in, and hence also the racist and colorist ET industry that exists. 😔

First off, I don't enjoy seeing ANYBODY getting hate for things they cannot control, especially if they seem like a decent person, and the hate seems undeserved. I really don't enjoy seeing that. So, whether it's Zendaya, or someone else in the industry, I just think that a lot of hate is uncalled for, so I don't really care for it, no matter who the individual is.

I think it's a shame too how Hollywood seems to have regressed in some manner when it comes to "black women" representation for the 18 - 30 age group. 😔 When you look at older films and TV shows, it almost seems like there was far more young unambiguously black female representation onscreen maybe in films and TV 20 some years ago than there is today in 2023. 🥴

I love Zendaya (as you all know) and I LOVE seeing the success that she's having. 🥰 But every once in a while, it would be nice seeing some other young actresses who look more like me (brown-skinned) getting some shine, and getting the same level of success and "household name" status that Z or Florence get.

Like you, I've grown up with Keke and root for her.... 🥰 But yea, it's just kind of sad how her promising career in film kind of fizzled out a little bit. She's still successful (imo), but let's just say, she's not getting the LARGE, blockbuster roles or love interest roles that Zendaya gets, and that's because Z represents (like you said) the more "acceptable" form of a "black girl" these days. It's just sad that this is what society has turned into. 🥴 Black women are not one monolith. We don't all look alike. We come in various shapes, sizes, skin tones, hues, etc.

I've also rooted for actress Aja Naomi King. She's another one who I think is pretty talented, and used to be on a hit TV show (HTGAWM), but then, after that it was like...... NOTHING. 👀 At 38 years old, she might be a bit older than the age range you had in mind, but you get my drift.

It does make you wonder sometimes.... Like, I know there are so many talented, young, beautiful, darker-skinned actresses out here just trying to make it in Hollywood. Why aren't we given a chance? Why are we continuously passed up?

I keep rooting for many of my darker-skinned sisters in Hollywood, cuz I know it can't be easy. If it hasn't been easy for Zendaya, then you KNOW it hasn't been easy for women darker than her.

I root for Keke, I root for Lupita, I root for Aja, Janelle Monae, Ajiona Alexus, Halle Bailey, Nicole Beharie, Kiki Layne, Letitia Wright, Teyonah Parris, etc. The list goes on and on.

Hollywood (and society) would love to make you think that there aren't any talented, BEAUTIFUL, young darker-skinned black actresses out here that are desirable, but that is simply NOT true.

There are some BEAUTIFUL darker-skinned ladies in Hollywood, but you're right... It's rare we become a household name.... Where is our "To All The Boys I've Loved Before" movies? Why aren't we considered when it comes to romantic films or playing the love interest?

I think we all know the answers to those questions. 😒

But don't feel like you have to "hate" on another actress like Zendaya simply because society/the industry caters more towards black women with her look. Don't dislike her, dislike the racist and colorist society that we live in! People literally CANNOT help who they were born to, nor how they look. I don't think anyone should be shamed or hated on for something they literally CANNOT even control, which is their skin color. It's just foolish to me.

Anyway Anon, I just want to say that I see you... I hear you... and I totally get what you're saying. 🥰❤️

[questions-from-d87]

oc-tober day 2 - education

♤ phoebe + melody's first day of seventh grade.

♤ 1025 words

♤ prompt from @oc-tober2023

♤ this one's a little uneventful on purpose but i hope it's not hard to get through, im not a super experienced writer so i hope it's not just straight up boring lmao

The car rattled as it sped down the road. Melody was happily chatting with her mom up front. Phoebe sat in the back, staring out the window and pretending the raindrops were racing. These car rides always bugged them. Not only was it the agonizingly slow drive to hell (West Middle School), but it was on the way to the first day of her seventh grade year. At least she’d know the building this time, but still, that place was their own personal worst nightmare. They were left to suffer and struggle alone with nothing more than their wired earbuds with only one working ear that weren’t even allowed in the hallways.

Melody was excited, as she usually was. That girl, Phoebe thought, didn’t have the capability to feel anxiety. Not like Phoebe did. With how packed Melody’s life was, the countless activities and clubs she’d be participating in, it seemed like she didn’t have time to feel much.

She hopped out of the car when it slowed to a stop by the front door. They were early, upon Melody’s insistence, so there weren’t quite as many people as there ought to be later. She showed her ID, which she’d gotten printed at the open house, as she entered the building. Immediately after, they shoved it in the side pocket of their backpack and made their way to their homeroom. Melody waved to her as they parted ways. Phoebe weakly returned the gesture.

The signs on the wall of the faces of jaguars and words like “pride”, “community” and “respect” mocked her as she walked down the hall. Hanging in the main hallway were a set of framed photos of eighth grade classes in past years. Their mom was somewhere there, but they didn’t bother to find her.

When she arrived in room 232, the teacher - her math teacher from last year, a tanned older woman with a love for butterflies and a tendency to wisecrack, pointed her to her spot at the back table. She took her seat, took out a pen, and started to draw on her arm. They drew a robotic design, one that trailed up from their knuckles to their elbow.

Homeroom crept by slowly. They did icebreakers, despite all being well aware of each other. The obnoxious football boys - specifically an infamously loud pair who liked to single out Phoebe for being quiet - had unfortunately been seated next to each other, making everyone miserable.

Next was algebra. The teacher greeted her at the door, a balding, perfectly-boring looking man in glasses, a blue polo and khakis. When she walked in, Ginger, already seated in the back, waved to her. Ginger was a classic scene queen - she had big black hair she’d clip patterned extensions into, lots of different belts, and a pale face enhanced by heavy makeup. She had a generous, tall figure and big brown eyes, and she’d reapply her makeup whenever she got bored of class. She was an eighth grader, a year above Phoebe. The two of them were just on the cusp of being friends.

The teacher's impossibly dry voice described every last bit of the syllabus. Ginger gave her a look, rolled her eyes, and smiled - "isn't this boring?" was the message she interpreted. Phoebe laughed a little to themself and nodded in response. Ginger never failed to make them smile. Something about her felt distinctly special to Phoebe. Something that set her heart aflutter.

Then came art class. Melody had signed up for the same class - she’d insisted they pick an elective to do together, and Phoebe liked art well enough. Melody waved a hand and patted the stool beside her at the wooden table, making a hollow thunking sound and extending an invitation she couldn’t reject.

The teacher was a young blonde woman who seemed eccentric (as all good art teachers are, at least a little). She was smiling brightly with perfectly white, straight teeth. She wore a jumpsuit patterned with orchids and a gold rope chain around her neck.

The class was given paper to fold into tent shapes. The familiar name tent get-to-know-you was probably Phoebe’s favorite - it didn’t involve much talking to other people, and it could be as low-effort as she wanted.

They looked to their side. Melody, on her neatly folded orange construction paper, wrote her name in elegant cursive. Phoebe, on her yellow triangle, simply scribbled hers down with her pen.

The teacher pulled up a slideshow about herself and went through each slide, and Phoebe found herself distracted - it honestly didn't matter that much to her where her art teacher went last summer or what college her daughter was going to.

“You really aren’t supposed to draw on yourself like that,” whispered Melody, gesturing to Phoebe’s arm. “It’s bad for your skin.”

“I already did it, didn’t I?”

The rest of the day passed by slowly - lunch was hell, as it usually was. Phoebe didn’t have much of an appetite, so they chose to simply skip it, which Melody scolded her for. At least it was nice of her to care. Throughout the day, the only things she really tended to feel were anxiety and apathy, which wasn’t unusual for her, but was still a bit alarming.

The bell rang for the end of the day, and Phoebe took a seat on the ground in the shade to wait for their mother’s car to pull up and bring them and Melody home. Melody came out shortly after and took a seat beside them - she tried to make conversation at first, but eventually simply pulled out a book, noticing Phoebe didn’t seem to be in the mood to chat.

Phoebe got to her feet as the old Buick rolled into the parking lot. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and walked to the car, Melody close behind her.

They opened the car door and set their backpack on the seat beside them before sitting down in the car.

But as they watched out the window, the car slowly pulling out from the parking lot, they could swear they saw a disembodied shadow pass behind a tree.

[rayssyscourse]

More of.just a random ramble than an ask.

I think something alot of white systems dont realize is the inherent intertwining of race and systemhood, how it affects your veiws and your functioning.

Im mixed mexican, were catholic because of it, and it heavily affects the way our systems speak to eachother, the way we help and comfort, all of it, its deeply intertwined as we all grew up mexican, its a deep and unbreakable thing. but with white systems i see alot refusing that they are able tk culturally appropriate with alters that are otherrace appearing in system, and who present that way, even to times practically doing black/brown/red/yellow face. and when you call them out they cry and pitch a fit because " thats how i look in headspace!!!!!" but thats how I look irl. You are a racist caricature from your source and make no effort to fix that then get mad when mexicans don't like you?

Hi! Thanks for the ask <3

This is very interesting. We are white, and you're right that this isn't something I had given much thought to before, but it's super interesting.

And yes, I think you're absolutely right. (Again, I'm white, so my word is not at all the deciding factor here. Just commenting on what you said.)

White (bodied) systems do not have the experience of growing up in any other race or ethnicity's culture. That is something unique to all people, plural or not. I, as a white person, will never know what it was like for you to grow up mixed Mexican. I will never know what it's like to grow up indigenous. I will never know what it's like to grow up black. I could go on for ages, but the point is that because I am white, those cultures and upbringings are something that I will just never experience or understand. No matter your childhood or who you were raised by, your culture is something unique to you, and simply cannot be experienced or understood by people outside of said culture.

In the case of non-white alters in white bodies, that still holds. In headspace they may be in all physical aspects another race, but at the end of the day, if the body is white, they do not have the experience of growing up as that race. They do not have that experience; they do not have the good aspects or the bad aspects or anything in between. They do not have the community, they do not have the culture, the mentality, the teachings, the communication methods, any of it.

I imagine that can be hard. It is undoubtedly difficult, I'm sure, to be in a body that does not match your own, or to have a mind that does not have the unique experience that it would if you were physically a different race. But that's something you just have to learn to accept, and it's incredibly disrespectful to pretend to be part of that culture when the harsh reality is that you just. Aren't.

Anyways, thank you for sharing your perspective and for reminding me of this, because as a white person it's important that I hear this stuff and be aware of it.

[saidanny]

Hey. I got you for the dp oc exchange. I just finished reading all the fics, and I've got all your drawings of them saved. But I have some questions.

What exactly is Sais disability? Please offer as much detail as you can.

My art style is very different from yours, and im having some trouble translating the character design over. Could you describe Sais appearance in as much detail as you can? Also, his personality.

Which people is Sai in contact with at which times? Did he stop interacting with his classmates when he became more popular? Was Spectra only one-off, or is she still his manager in the non-Dan timeline?

Sai has Hypermobile Ehlers Danlos Syndrome and Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome! His joints are hyperextending and hyperflexible. He cannot run much, gets dizzy often, and can barely do shows -- having to sit down after.

Sai has brown hair, yellow specifically in the front. I'd consider his outfits to mostly contain yellow and purple. He always wears a pair of purple headphones. His eyes are more oval than the Danny Phantom style, and his nose is curved, face a bit rounder. He wears a golden cuff around his neck and usually a pair of shorts and a belt with earbuds inside the pocket.

Now for the contacts; Sai is partners with Danny, best friends with Tucker, Sam, Valerie and Star, is close with Paulina and Dash, and his ex is Kwan.

Spectra has always been Sai's manager, being a ghost. She was also Sai's mother's manager, allowing her to create the second generation of idols. Sai's manager overworks their band, creating constant shows for them to work themselves into depressions and constant sress. The band isn't aware of this, and Sai, being both disabled and the lead in the band, is the main source of Spectra's drawing of stress. But when Sai begins to gain hope, and love singing, falling in love with a crowd member who always showed up to her concerts, she decides to move each member away. For Sai, that's Amity Park, Illinois. Sai's bandmates are also sent to other commonly ectoplasm-heavy areas, as Spectra has realized with her assistant Bertrand, can make her more powerful. Sai is distressed by the move. At first, he's grouped in with the A-listers due to his social status, because he's angry and afraid, but the fear bubbles over and makes him get dogged on constantly. He finds himself meeting Team Phantom, getting along with them well. While still being liked by the A-team, Sai is extremely popular, but chooses to sit with his select group of closest friends. He's also painfully, did I mention, head over heels for this random ass guy named Danny. His hair is black, his eyes a piercing blue, and he's pathetically average. Just some normal dude. Sai's worst fear, however, happens to be ghosts. He commonly has nightmares of drowning at the time, and being surrounded by ghosts other nights -- so he is anxious about the ghost rumors, and especially Danny's family and their ghost hunting work. Allegedly, they did more harm than good, but if there were less ghosts around-- why did he even believe in them anyways, again? That would make it better for him. Anyway, after a lot of tension, he gets to be best friends with Danny. Then he gets trapped in a ghost-infested site, Phantom saves him, yadda yadda he peppersprays the poor halfa. Sai apologizes profusely. A while later he gets with Danny, confessing in front of the school, and being upset about the fact that he's popular and Danny isn't-- not wanting Danny to see him as a bad person. Danny accepts, and they go out, but Danny grows more and more anxious about being found out.

Sai runs into him mid-transformation. Instead of freaking out he accepts him.

Yeah thats it.

[freebooter4ever]

fox news has conditioned people to think of LA as one of the most dangerous places in the world because of gangs and 'liberal elites'

if they had any idea what LA was actually like they would never support anything like this. these people do not live in reality. their news source isn't based in reality. they are completely insulated from what actually happens in their own country and across the globe.

there are people i work with who genuinely think the entirety of LA is only black and hispanic people from 1990s compton based movies. i yelled at a few coworkers this morning.

whaaaat???? ok thats is truly insane. thanks for making me aware of this. i mean obviously i knew about the historical riots before moving here but i was never stupid enough to assume the riots included the whole city. yall dont forget i grew up in seattle till age 18 and lived in pittsburgh most of my adult life. i am a transplant here in LA. i am the outsider perspective too.

also for what its worth my friends who live even remotely near to around the area are saying things are totally calm. the only ones reporting any kind of action are those in the prostests.

the truly horrible thing is that this IS only happening to mostly brown people. and the rich white people of the rest of LA are mostly just going to ignore it. like LA is big enough that if they turned this one community into a restricted section most of us would not even notice. and im here sick and stuck in bed and angry.

[fabdante]

honestly ok im not done with this asdfghjk and im not making it it's own post so i can open myself up to argument. i don't feel like i've read the book enough times to really make an argument that isn't a lot of rambling, you know?

but like i went into wuthering heights aware some people theorized heathcliff being brown. it was one of the many straws that broke the camels back for me. i found this intriguing.

i did not anticipate that it was just a legit piece of canon that is brought up incredibly often that large swaths of people just ignore (or worse, argue vehemently against) because he himself does not state clearly and with certainty his ethnicity, a thing that would not happen in the narrative because its not even in his perspective. on the contrary the novel is, largely, in the perspective of people who don't particularly care to find out what heathcliffs race actually is because they are just satisfied knowing he is other. i don't think it occurred to nelly once that he, perhaps, had his own culture and language before being taken here and that he is aware he's not the son of indian and chinese royalty. she doesn't ask. neither does lockwood.

however, i thought about this a lot. and it's under the cut

disclaimer: i've only read wuthering heights once and while i am sure it has entered my yearly reread list (which will only deepen my thoughts and analysis), this is literally just my impressions after my first reading of the book. some things may be misremembered, or perhaps further mused on upon a reread. some things i would have liked more specifics, if this was a real essay (like the exact number of times heathcliff is suggested to be romani, or how often he's compared to animals vs how often everyone else is). this is a post i wrote over the course of several weeks on tumblr.com and it reads like one.

we are confronted with numerous characters assuming what race heathcliff is and its usually not white, and it's certainly ethnicities that would be other to the people around him.

like its baffling to me how much of this conversation is taken up by the hand full of times he's described as dark skinned, a fair argument but easy to argue against because of the time he's also described in a fit of colorful language to be paler then the wall behind him. that and like, the way he's described as dark is also in line with how the term dark was used at the time by brontës contemporaries (though i personally don't think that's all she meant by referring to heathcliff specifically). it's easy to argue against the constant descriptions of his dark hair and dark eyes and dark skin as emily brontë, perhaps, trying to suggest he is just over all a dark, imposing character tying into theories that heathcliff is a literal demon (some people suggest this?). now, don't get me wrong, i agree with the assessment that regardless of the metaphor heathcliff is like a darker skinned guy with black hair and black eyes however it's the type of evidence that's much easier to argue against rather then him, repetitively, having characters pull the 'lmao what are you???' question or how intrinsically his race is tied into the plot and his character.

like, i said it reminds me of booker dewitt at one point in my many ramblings and let me explain. booker is often assumed to be white but but he is actually mixed race and is both white and indigenous. and while one can argue semantics about skin color and what not i feel the much stronger evidence to this canon fact is stuff like idk the fact he speaks at least one of the lakota/dakota/nakota language families fluently, doesn't recognize bible verses when they're quoted at him, has slurs thrown at him in earlier versions of the game we have footage of (implying other characters assume he is native american), has another universe version of himself who has found himself center of a phrenology study trying to prove he's native american, and, oh, the time another character straight up tells us about the time booker lost his shit at 16 because people were being racist to him and decided the best course of action would be to become participant in his own genocide to try and make himself himself appear whiter to avoid scrutiny before this fails horribly and he is now haunted by the fact he is participant in the genocide he is also victim of. this is the thing that haunts him, this is the thing that is chasing him, this is why he knows being made 'clean' in the eyes of a god that was forced upon him will not absolve him of the blood on his hands. bookers entire character is heavily influenced by this. like if we look at the time period and craft a probable history for what creates a booker dewitt, the influence of generational trauma and current trauma and just the impact of living in world where he is never truly a part like becomes very clear on his character and other characters around him. like booker is a character who deserved better writing from a writing team more willing to put time into communicating this story, but the seeds are all there.

like the reasons we know booker dewitt is indigenous outside of ken levines word of god statement are things like this that have clear and evident impact on his character and the world of the story. i argue the same is in wuthering heights. like yes, there are descriptions of heathcliff that line up with this to. but the crucial, crucial thing is how him not being white impacts the narrative and him.

but like i mean sure we can fall back on those vague descriptors i guess and argue back and forth about what exactly emily brontë meant because some people just don't want to accept that heathcliff isn't white and can pretend that descriptions of his dark skin aren't actually about him having dark skin.

there's this segment in which heathcliff laments about how he doesn't look like the blonde haired, blue eyed, pale edgar linton. there's another when he meets his son and is essentially like 'lmao why's it white?'. there's the numerous, numerous other people around him constantly throwing their best theory into the ring on what they think his race is which is almost always romani, often indian, and in one time occurrences each, chinese, american, and spanish.

literally when taken in by the earnshaws he doesn't even speak english. nelly, being a white woman from the area who likely has very limited exposure to other languages due to her class and limited education and limited time anywhere that isn't her direct local area, just assumes he's speaking gibberish. but idk perhaps the boy described as indian and romani didn't speak fucking english yet

and this all plays into the themes as well?

like a large theme of this novel is the way cathy and heathcliff do not quite feel they belong here but they feel a belonging and acceptance with each other, a large motivator behind their mutual obsession. (i'm getting to the resentment give me a moment) they understand the abuse they both experienced, they understand what the other wants (freedom, essentially), they understand how they both feel isolated and alone, etc etc. and part of that for heathcliff is clearly how he is othered by everyone else despite being the favorite son, despite how he tried to fit into the social trappings around him. its part of why he laments about edgar. because he recognizes, despite his age, that he's being treated differently because he does not look like edgar. sure it's, as with most things, a very cathy motivated thought i think. the threat that edgar will take all her attention, leaving heathcliff truly alone. hell he even kind of says that when he confronts cathy that one time and is like 'hey, you hang out with him so much more' and we, the reader, know under that he's saying 'and you are leaving me alone with these people'. but back in this moment with nelly he pinpoints rather accurately that edgar has an easier time because he's white. and heathcliff is not. and he can do the song and dance, he even tries to do the song and dance, but he can't become white. he can never just become white.

i think to this plays into the resentments between cathy and heathcliff. she resents that he's not white, that it makes this simple thing very complex, that in her eyes it's part of what makes him beneath her and no one is going to see him as being at the same level as her, that she feels so much belonging and what not with this person seen as other. like its very 'recognition of the self in the other (derogatory)' and i think he similarly resents these things in reverse, right? he resents that he's seen this way, that she might see him this way, that this simple thing is complicated when it should not be. and also, again, that this game is so much easier for cathy to play. she's white, she blends in, she's free to do things he is not because he has to give so much more to be even considered remotely human. and it's frustrating. because he is cathy, after all. except for the part where he's not. because for as much love as there is here, they're two abused kids who speak a similar language here and are angry with each other as well as the world.

like i just the way he's treated to like nelly, being presumably white, seems to assume all of heathcliffs mistreatment comes from him being ill behaved and insane which i mean sure some of it is because he constantly misbehaves and he doesn't want to be controlled and follow rules he doesn't like.

but isn't it a bit...idk...telling that no one really argues with hindley when he decides to make his adoptive brother his servant?

like people find it shitty when heathcliff does that to hearton, the white boy.

but when heathcliff spends years upon years doing all the barn work and getting whipped by his brother and being forced to live in the shitty attic with no access to heating like...the lintons, despite cathys bad behavior, give her an opportunity to 'grow' (force her into a box of polite society which she does not like but falls into anyway). they don't do that to heathcliff, they write him off immediately. their pity begins and ends with cathy who they identify as an unfortunate girl in an unfortunate family who is being raised poorly, despite the fact heathcliff is raised in the exact same conditions and misbehaving in the exact same way. the biggest differences are cathy is white and a girl, and heathcliff is brown and a boy.

like im just saying does the narrative need to spell it out for you?

are you that incapable of reading between the lines when it is literally that obvious.

like ignoring all these little nuances that perhaps i read into or misremember due to my bias here, the fact he clearly looks not white enough for everyone to constantly suggest he's not white implies that...just maybe...maybe that heathcliff is brown

i also wonder how much of this unwillingness for heathcliff to be brown is 'oh but he's a shitty person' and our current movement is to create these pure, stainless, people of color in our fiction. heathcliff is not that. he's the antithesis to that (though more on that later). he's a shitty, miserable person who makes himself more miserable and suffers in a tragedy he himself largely created. though i argue the story ends well for him (i mean he dies happily in cathys room and gets to haunt the moors with her forever in absolute freedom and bliss like that's literally what he wanted he got what he wanted), deserving it to end well for him or not, he's not this picture perfect representation that audiences crave before ripping something apart because they cannot understand that marginalized people do not have one uniform experience or needs from our media.

who cares that he's shitty when he's complex and an adaptation that actually represents him as he is would only make him more complex and interesting and do justice to the narrative emily brontë was trying to craft? it wouldn't necessarily revaluate the narrative, but rather bring to light this element of it which is so often neglected.

emily brontë was trying to make complex people with complex motivations and interests, which often lead them down self destructive paths. which sure, makes them shitty. but it makes them interesting and heathcliffs race is part of what makes him interesting and complex. the way his race and understanding of it balance with his understanding of himself and the people around him and the trappings of the society he's in. like it's such a large part of why he behaves like he does and why people behave how they do around him.

like we can all agree heathcliff is the monster these people created. he became the thing he was told he is because it is what he was told he is. again to bring up booker dewitt, booker is the monster that everyone created by telling him what he is and what he is worth is the violence he can commit so violence booker dewitt becomes. heathcliff, similarly, is told through this narrative by so many of these people that he is lesser, that no matter what he does he is not them. so what he does is go on a revenge quest to become them, to return the favor back to them, to take what he's decided will now be his because he was told he does not deserve it. and here's the thing. here's the thing about it. he kind of wins.

like don't get me wrong his revenge quest makes him miserable and could have been avoided and he did a lot of horrible things on that quest. but he did it, right? he got wuthering heights. he got thrushcross grange. he fucked with everyone's lives. and like sure it catches up to him mentally, but he dies in this success right? that he did the thing he wanted and everyone's miserable. and then he dies. and he dies happily because he gets to run off with cathy in the afterlife doing whatever the fuck forever and always like both of them wanted. like he literally gets everything he wanted in the narrative. eventually.

anyway

denying his race just feels...short sighted? missing the point?

and like i mean ok sure one time he's described as spanish and the actor they got for him is spanish. that's cool. that's great.

but i have to question why we went with the guy who fits exactly one off handed description of heathcliff from a line where he's also, once again, suggested to be indian and also american (it's all in the same sentence the speaker, unsure, suggests heathcliff is all three spanish isn't even a heathcliff race suggestion that gets it's own line)

another thing I've noticed repeated time and time again is 'well, sure, Heathcliff could be a person of color. but that's less important than divides such as class and-' and I'm not going to pretend I'm like deeply aware of the intricacies of late 1700s, early 1800s race relations and concepts in England. However I also feel like this is...really misunderstanding race but also misunderstanding the novel, which, again, makes it clear that Heathcliff's race factors into things. he doesn't get upset that Edgar is white and he's not because he feels equal to Edgar minus the fact he's poor. people don't suggest he's races that are not white because they view Heathcliff as equal.

when cathy and heathcliff meet the lintons, its because they were both behaving badly and spying on them. this gets the dogs to attack cathy as they try to run away. naturally they take her inside and heathcliff follows. much is said about his race during this time. then heathcliff proceeds to make himself look Very Bad in front of them after their dog attacked cathy (though, again, they're very quick to kick him out super late and make him go home and keep white cathy for six straight weeks). when cathy comes back, now the 'proper' lady the lintons made her into, she comments that heathcliff, described routinely with dark skin unlike the pale lintons, is dirty. he does not like this. its hard not to see a connection for him to the fact his skin is brown, and hers is not, and nor is edgar lintons. the lintons are invited to dinner at one point and they make it clear they do not want to interact with heathcliff, so heathcliff is sent away and has his whole 'linton is white and going to steal cathy' meltdown to nelly. who then proceeds to try and calm him down and is like 'we'll fix this by cleaning you up and making you look presentable and they'll have to let you to dinner'. so she does, she cleans him up and does his hair and gives him a pep talk and tells him to behave and she sends him out to the dinner. to which he is met with immediate and immense backlash when he hasn't even done anything beyond try to fit into the game.

he can wash himself as much as he likes, but heathcliff can never truly become 'clean', can he?

there's this idea, historically and otherwise, that dark skin itself is 'unclean'. that one is dirty for having it. its a common racist tactic. if you just scrub enough, you can become paler. if you're bad, your skin will become darker. bleach yourself so you look more innocent. the bad guys with blood on their hands are brown and black and dark and the good guys are pale and white.

perhaps emily brontë is a product of her time and she to saw heathcliffs dark skin as evidence of his bad behavior, as something unclean. (though, again, i'd argue she has him ultimately 'win'. he ultimately succeeds at the thing he wants. his actions are not forgiven or really justified but emily brontë still has him win)

but in our discussion its hard for me not to see such examples of this and not think that race is a huge factor in heathcliffs behaviors and world view. after all, when people look at him, they're not suggesting directly that he's poor in bafflement. they're suggesting hes romani or indian or chinese or whatever else.

the 2011 adaptation i think really puts this in the forefront because it becomes impossible to ignore the elephant in the room here. their heathcliff is black, and everyone else is white. characters use slurs the audience recognizes as slurs rather than words they don't understand are slurs. when cathy comments that heathcliff is dirty off handedly before realizing what she's said, we see him and his brown skin and understand why he is upset the one person who doesn't treat him differently has suddenly said something like that to him. sure there's an element here that cathy has changed and he's scared she's changed, that she no longer loves her moors and wants to run around outside with him forever in them. but the other element of change is that she might see him as lesser, as innately unclean.

like yes class is an element here but to pretend race is not when it so clearly is is...bizarre to me? particularly because class and race are connected and seem deliberately so here. like cathy is allowed to marry up, she is allowed to change class, she can do that quite easily. heathcliff, though, to change class has to run off for a period of three years doing who knows what and he is STILL not respected as being another class when he returns. now I'm sure one could argue 'oh it's because of his personality-' and like sure heathcliff is still very heathcliff like it's not like he's become super personable or anything. but like...neither are a lot of wealthy white men.

also, again, the narrative is very clear. cathy is heathcliff, heathcliff is cathy. they are two sides of the same coin. they are one thing. they are one codependent thing with very similar character traits except cathy is a white girl and heathcliff is a brown boy, which impacts the presentation of these very similar character traits.

we have to question in the text why heathcliff is so unpersonable and the answer goes back to the any time we see him try to play the game and he's immediately shut out. like why should he want to play into this polite society when the polite society has made it very clear no matter what he does, he will not belong here. his wealth is desirable, he is not. the text is asking you to ask why that is and the answer isn't just because heathcliff kinda sucks. because like hindley also sucks, mr earnshaw also sucks. sucking is not a uniquely heathcliff trait in this novel if anything most of the characters suck.

the why this is largely is yes, a response to trauma. cathy and heathcliff and even hindley like all carry the same trauma from their upbringing. but an element of this trauma for heathcliff is the racism. is the way his race plays into othering him, separating him, isolating him. the way his race exasperates that abuse, how it enables further abuse (like hindley turning him into a servant, for example).

i think there's something to be said about horror and discomfort, right? and like wuthering heights isn't necessarily horror like its gothic, its a gothic romance, but it's not necessarily horror despite the gothic and horror like being sisters but like. i do think there's something to be said about the fact wuthering heights wants to be discomforting. it clearly was if you look at reviews of the time and how clearly, clearly it made charlotte uncomfortable to the point where she allegedly burned emily's second manuscript (im not forgiving her for this) and i don't know i don't know if emily meant for this race element to be discomforting in the way i find it as an arab american reader. but i did find it uncomfortable in the way horror is. like i found it very akin to watching a horror film and sitting there wishing the main character just runs or turns around because the slasher killer is right there. it's the perpetual feeling of knowing you are the only brown person in the room and not knowing what that's going to mean at any moment.

i often write little vent posts i delete about this book because i have much to say and much frustration about this denial of heathcliffs brownness that i ultimately decide not to burden others with asdfghjk but in one of them i had a thought.

there's article after article trying to justify heathcliffs white washing in the adaptations where they insist he has to be white or that his brownness is only a suggestion and no one really meant it when they said he looks Romani or Indian or Chinese. and i have to wonder like why is it so important that he is white? does this whiteness impact the narrative? does it change it? is it important to it?

i'd argue the whiteness of cathy and edgar and isabelle and hindley is important to the narrative. it's an extension of how they fit into society, into how they are welcomed to it, as part of their class and their wealth or their ability to just squander that wealth. it's an extension of how they are treated by each other and others, like cathy being brought in and 'civilized' by the lintons for example.

on the contrary, the whiteness of someone like nelly, a character we presume is white due to setting and what not, isn't particularly relevant. it plays no strong element to her story, what race she is, outside perhaps who she chooses to sympathize with.

and see if heathcliff is white...what does that change? a lot of the impact is gone, in my opinion. a lot of the the tensions we see here are alleviated. suddenly the only thing separating him from the society around him is the money he does or doesn't have. suddenly the only factor in his isolation is himself.

if he's brown, though, in whatever way he is...that's a lot more relevant, isn't it?

it's a lot more relevant to the themes, to the story that's happening and the one that happened. he's no longer the only factor here, it's the fact he is in the outgroup and everyone else is in the ingroup and no matter what he does he cannot change his skin. he can't out wealth his skin. he can't escape the way everyone else views him.

it's a lot more uncomfortable to for a society unwilling to look its own racism in the face, isn't it? which is odd to say about a story that regardless of race is entirely uncaring on if it's uncomfortable or not. it wants to be uncomfortable, actually. i refer to watching wuthering heights 2011 as a 'gaping wound' and this is why. it's uncomfortable and it's supposed to be.

idk i just keep tacking segments onto this very long essay because i'm just baffled, you see. im baffled at how this element of this character which is SO OBVIOUS and so RELEVANT to the story being told is just...so ignored? so white washed? perhaps it's just because it was one of the things that made me read the book? because it was i will admit. like i wanted to know. i wanted to know how obvious it was and i came away baffled because it literally only stopped short of having heathcliff turn to the camera and say 'by the way im :insert race here:' like i don't know how emily bronte could have been more clear.

i don't understand.

i hope i have gotten across why i don't understand.

in princess weekes video on heathcliff she notes that, while he is most likely meant to be romani or indian but probably romani, it doesn't exactly matter what specific race heathcliff is what matters is that he is how he is othered and treated due to this race. i think this is mostly a fair assessment because while i do see credence to the argument of the fact he should be played by an actor of the race he is like...most likely to be, nothing significant changes about the narrative if he's romani or indian or black or arab (some have gone for arab heathcliff and i support it despite the book having no backing for this asdfghjk) or so on and so forth what matters is he is a person of color. while how we in the modern day understand that is a little different then emily bronte did when writing the novel, what matters is he is brown.

and yet. every single adaptation. save for the 2011 one. fail to make him brown. i don't understand.

tldr: why the fuck is heathcliff white in almost every adaptation when he so clearly is not if you just read the book good lord

anywho supplemental videos i forgot to add:

the day rue became black by yhara zayd (there was also something from her candyman video i meant to quote after rewatching but forgot to do so also watch that one because sure why not, it was something from her discussion about how its not racist to have characters of color who kinda suck or are villainous or what not but in general everyone should be watching yhara zayd)

heathcliff isn't white by princess weekes

"while under the influence of Wuthering Heights" that's really a real phenomena huh like that's a real thing that just happens to you after you read wuthering heights

[angel-eyes05]

the scent of you

pairing: fem!hispanic!supervillain!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: after chasing him for so long, you've finally caught him. the infamous spiderman 2099. and now you were going to show him what it was like to be in your grasp

warnings: nsfw, dom!reader, sub!miguel, he's kinda bratty too ngl, bdsm, bondage (miguel is being tied up yet again the poor guy), p in v unprotected, reader's a bit of a psychopath lmao, lots of blood lmao reader has blood manipulation powers so you can imagine how that goes for someone whos constantly compared to a vampire, no use of y/n, no use of miguel's name cause you don't know it lol

word count: 2.0k

notes: im literally writing this at 1 am as a desperate attempt to get my activity back up since no one's reading bite the hand lmao. so of course my first resort is actual porn. also, im aware miguel isn't actually a vampire but i just wanted to give him some vampiric tendencies...just cause lmao its more fun like that. this was fun lets do it again some time lmao

-----------------

You’d always enjoy the hunt. In your line of work, one of Kingpin’s subordinates, it was the main thing you did. Catching those he sent you after, knowing you would always finish the job. Yeah sure, most of the time they were nobodies, but damn if you didn’t love the terrified look on their face just before you went for the kill. 

Dea Tacita, the Roman goddess of the dead, was the name you were given by your victims. You earned it due to your silent killing style, just like how she was also nicknamed as “the silent goddess”. But while you might have been silent, your victims certainly were not. Your ability to manipulate others and your own blood led for particularly painful deaths indeed. Either forcefully ripping the ichor from their body, or slowly raising the temperature of it, basically boiling them alive. 

This most certainly was not the life you had planned for yourself, but you’d grown to deal with it. Hell, sometimes you even loved it. You got high off of the final breathes of your victims once they were gone. 

You were especially ecstatic today. You were put on the task by Kingpin a few weeks ago. A strange figure in a blue and red electronic suit had been popping in and out of Alchemax, stealing tech, and making his getaway in a neon orange, hexagonal portal. It sounded intriguing to you. It became even more intriguing after you saw his massive build for yourself during your first encounter. His tall stature, broad shoulders, and incredibly toned physique. It’s no wonder he beat you within your first couple of battles, even with your powers. But you didn’t mind. 

Losing only meant that you got to see him again. And that he got to pin you down to the floor whenever you two were finished throwing fists at each other. But this was strange. You had gone up against him so many times and had lost, again and again and again. But you had gotten word from one of your own subordinates a few hours ago that he’d finally been caught. Why? Was he giving himself up? No way. You had to go see him for yourself. And then after, you would finish the job.

You strutted down the hallways to the containment room where he was supposedly being kept. You even caught yourself fixing strands of your hair and pressing down on your outfit, dressing up for the occasion. When you opened the door, your knees nearly went weak. The man was sitting there, on that chair that was definitely too small for him, unconscious with his head leaning back behind him. Plus, his mask was off, so now you could finally get a glimpse of that beautiful face of his. Sculpted cheekbones, wavy and slicked back brown hair, and slight gray streaks going through his hair. That wasn’t even the best part. The best part was what was around him.

Rope. Black strings of rope tying him to the chair, carving out each and every one of his muscles, put on by your lackeys, almost as if they knew. His beautiful pecs sitting there so pretty, almost calling out to you, and his legs spread wide open due to his unconscious state. You walked fully into the room, shutting and locking the doors behind you. You leaned on the table that sat in front of him, admiring his beauty. Once you were done undressing him with your eyes, you clenched your hand to get his blood flow to start moving faster, slowly waking him up.

“Hey there Tiger,” you said once his hypnotic, crimson red eyes finally fluttered open. He groaned in response. “Where the hell am I?” he asked, his low drowsy voice sending butterflies into your stomach. “Don’t worry, that won’t be a problem for you soon enough,” you responded, getting up from your lean to walk up closer to him. He squirmed around lightly in his bondage. “You’ve been a little thorn in Kingpin’s side for the past couple of weeks, haven’t you now?” “If thorn in his side means protecting the people of this city, then yeah I guess I have,” he said back, a little strained. You walked up behind him, one hand on his shoulder, and the other knitted into his hair, massaging his scalp. His eyes closed, soft sighs leaking from his lips as your fingers intertwined with his hair. “Mhm,” was all you responded with.

A quick whimper escaped him when you abruptly yanked his hair back so he could look you in the eyes. “That means you’ve been causing trouble for me too, Tiger.” His breathing was heavy as he stared up into your eyes. “So why don’t we just take care of this nice and quickly, hm?” You pushed his head back forward. 

“Would you mind elaborating on tha-.” He was quickly cut off with a groan as you attached your mouth to the crook of his neck, pressing warm kisses into it and light sucks. You made your way all along his neck to his collarbones, finding your way to sit on his lap in the meantime. You could feel his already rock hard cock underneath you. So he did plan this, you thought to yourself. You decided to play along into his little game. You separated your lips from his chest, wrapped your hand underneath the ropes, and yanked him up to you. “Your suit’s digital right? So you can control it with your thoughts?” you asked gently. He nodded. “Take it off.”

His facial expression didn’t budge. “Or what, huh?” You smirked. His expression quickly changed though when he felt his body getting hotter and hotter. It changed again, a strained whimper coming from him, when you yanked his hair backwards again. “Take. It. Off.” Next thing you knew, his tan skin was peaking out from where his suit used to be. The suit must have been a thin layer, because his bare cock underneath your ass now felt just as hard, if not harder, than before. 

You smiled at him. “Much better.” You grabbed his face, but instead of doing what he expected, which was to smash your faces together, you leaned in slowly to him, lips just barely grazing, before you pulled away again. You kept doing this, until he eventually started whining, even going as far as to reach his face forward to yours, getting a chuckle out of you. “Ay coño mamita, would you just get it over with already?” he whined. You smiled at him. “Paciencia querido, paciencia. Mal recompensa que más tarde.” You confirmed this with him once you lifted up your ass and dragged one of your hands to his cock, teasing the tip ever so slightly.

Though even that made his hips jerk forward into you. You stood up, leg on each outside of the chair, teasing at both his cock and his lips. His whines were driving you crazy as you edged him on. After getting tired of it all, the man was finally able to get a hold on your lips. Once he smushed them together with yours, hands still tied back to the chair, you didn’t reject it, and went all in. One hand on his cheek, the other at length, you slipped your tongue in between his lips. You quickly pulled away though when you felt a hard bite down on your tongue. You removed your hand from his penis quickly as you inspected your tongue. “¿Qué mierda?” you asked, agitated. “Ay, discúlpame. Pero no pude evitarlo,” he said, almost as if biting you was on instinct. You wiped your now bleeding tongue with your thumb, admiring the maroon liquid that you had grown attached to. You used your power to collect it all up into the air, elongating it into a stream of blood. 

You had noticed though, that the Spider-Man’s gaze was pinned on the the ichor. That’s right. The man was basically a vampire. Driven by an unnatural thirst for blood. It was something pulled right out of a 1930s horror movie. And right now you were tempting him, waving his food in front of his face. “You want it, hm?” His eyes didn’t even move away from it when he nodded. You let out a low chuckle, then released your clutch on it, letting the blood fall onto your lap. Once you see his eyes dart down to your thigh (him even going as far to reach his mouth down to it), you yank his bondage towards you and put a hand back down to his crotch, strongly twisting his balls. 

He grunts and moves his eyes back to your low eyes. “Only good boys get fed. Are you gonna be a good boy for me, Spider-Man?” He didn’t respond, probably out of embarrassment. You then give a cruel squeeze to his balls. “Ok, ok, ok, I will!” he yelped out. “You’ll what?” you teased, hands still squeezing. He sighed. “I’ll be a good boy for you, mommy.” You smiled. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

You connect your lips back to his, and he slips his tongue in almost right away to lick off the rest of your blood from your tongue. You slip off your underwear, and sit down on his cock, using one of your free hands to guide it into you. You both moaned into each other’s mouths as he entered you. You preferred to have teased him for a little longer, but to be honest, you were starting to get a little antsy for him too.

You thrusted, hard, onto his cock, making sure to get his tip onto all your sweet spots. He moved his mouth down your neck and collarbone, leaving sweet kisses and hickeys where his mouth once was. It took everything out of him to not sink his teeth into your neck. He even seems to make his way down to your chest, using the open boob window in your dress to stuff his face into your breasts, almost seeming to get lost in them as he motorboats you. It’s slightly immature, but you were too busy indulging in the ferocity of his cock to care, as he made your pussy his own. 

He eventually moves back up to your mouth. In between kisses, you manage to get out, “Why did you get caught.” “¿Qué quieres decir?” he sighs out. “I mean, I tried, ngh, to beat you. How did they catch you, and n-not me.” He takes a while for his answer, more focused on trying to figure out how to get himself further in you. “Because, I needed to see you again.” “Why?” “Your smell.”

You sighed into his mouth as a question. “You smell like blood. Overpowering. Intoxicating. Casi como un hechizo.” You pull away to look him in the eyes.

“I couldn’t just leave without knowing what your pussy feels like, mi reina.”

You chuckled a little bit. “Eres una puta.” He smirked. “Sólo por ti, mamita.”

You both were finally starting to reach your climaxes. He decided to take the fall and finish first. He let out groans, grunts, and whimpers as he came in your sweet pussy. Once he was finished, you let out your orgasm, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and moaning into his bare chest for leverage. Once you both finished, you slowly remove yourself from him. You use your fingers to clean up and taste the mess below you by your dripping cunt. Miguel lets his suit come back onto him, his head leaning forward and panting. 

Realizing you can’t let him out, you clench your fist again to slow the movement of his blood, putting him back under. You fix your hair and press down on your outfit. But before leaving the room, you turn back to look at him. He looked so pretty sleeping there. You quickly walked up to him, and planted a deep, soft kiss into his scruffy cheek. 

As you left the room, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t kill him. You couldn’t finish the job. It would’ve been so easy to do it right here right now. You didn't even know his name. There was zero connection between the two of you, other than what just happened. This had never been a problem before. So why was it now?

Why?

-----------------

a/n: im so tired its currently 4 am i need sleep lmao im so tired i have got to stop going to bed at 3-5 am

[fluffbeast7]

Concept ideas for my sona: Fluff! (i just have to write things out dont mind me, sorry for any writing mistakes)

this doesnt look as good because i just wanted to get the idea out of my head, plus, its the very first concept of fluff's portals, i'm already having a few ideas on how to make this look better

i will ramble a lot now, long post warning!

fluff existence is veeryy,,,, weird. their origins explain why they can shapeshift. i dont have the best words on what fluff does- i would say ''reality shifter'' but that's a thing that actually exists and, idk how i feel about it.

fluff is a creature who was born/created within the ''wall'' that separates every reality, so they actually do not belong anywhere- they are just a blob of the universe that accidentally grew sentient, meaning they do not have parents, meaning they can take up any physical form they wish (as long they know what it looks like! before their favorite form was created, they observed many animals, slowly building up their figure. when fluff was younger, they looked different due to their taste changing over time!)

when you are a creature from the ''wall'' (yes that's how im calling it), you learn that there are many little secrets and stuff to understand to how it all works- the ability to shapeshift and to visit other realities came in natural for them, but learning to revisit places and what fluff should and shouldn't do were things they had to learn on their own

plus! there ar not many, but fluff isn't the only creature who was born withing the wall, they are friends with other people who all have their own opinions on this whole thing- fluff apparently is one of the younger ones to appear. each creature have different goals and views about visiting other realities, also different morals and philosophical thinkin' and stuff!

list of the other creatures they met (they are all based on things around my life :) )

fluff: i'm not going to explain much about how fluff looks like, but just their views and goals. fluff decided very early on that they want to get to know as many different realities and study as many different creatures (so they can shapeshift into them), they have many different sketch books they draw on addressing the people they met. fluff is dangerously open about being a shapeshifter and is not aware that, saying stuff like '' Oh there are many different versions of you but slightly different! :D'' usually sends people into an existential crisis

differently from their friends, fluff adores shapeshifting, but also tries not to think too hard about their existense, they just want to live, and feel normal.

froggy god: a frog, that's it! froggy is non-verbal, but it's said they like to bring luck to other people. frog does not shapeshift (they can, hey just won't). they are mostly seen hanging out with other frogs or along with our next creature on the wall- moth.

moth: a giant, GIANT, moth. they also do not speak! but it seems they are the oldest creature from the wall, at least that's what everyone thinks. Moth rarely visit other realities, but when they do- they don't bother to shapeshift, they just fly around in the sky. it's a breathtaking sight!

Tigrinho: Fluff's best friend (almost sibling), born at the same time as fluff! you can call him just tiger, in portuguese, it means ''little tiger''. Tigrinho is a mix of different breeds of ''big cats''. Tiger is very, VERY kind, too kind for their own good. Tiger prefers to spend more time on the reality he and fluff first visited, and he works to build his own life there- but takes on adventures with fluff sometimes. he struggles to shapeshift, so he doesn't do it as much.

Dusk: dusk is very interesting, he constantly changes forms but not because he likes it, but because he cant decide exactly what he want's to look like. but it's always a variation of a dark colored creature, sometimes brown, and always, ALWAYS with black eyes with red pupils, and sharp teeth. Dusk is grumpy, not as nice as the others. he thinks fluff decisions are risky and irresponsable, but never bothers them too much about it, he just doesn't approve any of it

he has a deep voice and is constantly growling, he's usually very serious, he travels and tries his best to understand this whole ''wall'' thing. Dusk didn't use to have a name, but fluff named him without him wanting to anyways (He ended up liking his name..). He likes being scary for fun, sort of like being a villain, even if there's not really a reason for him to be evil. Fluff plays along, just to make him happy

explaining things on this doodle:

fluff once found a reality that was completely empty.. they claimed it as their room, bringing stuff (cough, stealing cough) to make it comfy, also, they bring things from their fav realities, making a little collection! (a rule about the wall: for some reason fluff is allowed to take only 1 item inside the wall for each reality, if they take more than one item, it disappears)

fluff chose to be able to digest food, they dont need to, but they like food so- yep

fluff found out during an accident that, no other living thing can go in the wall, (only the ones who were born within it) to say it simply- they die, and i say any that has some sort of intelligence- meaning sometimes not even robots make it through! fluff doesnt understand completely how it works, but the way they found out was- hm, very sad

[jawbrkrs]

𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚  𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕  ,  look  ,  and  touch  felt  charged  .  she  knew  the  other  woman  well  enough  to  discern  the  weight  behind  her  words  ,  so  she  clung  to  every  syllable  ,  reading  the  fine  print  .  compliments  spilled  from  her  lips  ,  warming  the  apples  of  her  cheeks  with  a  sincerity  she  didn’t  doubt  .  it  was  in  her  eyes—the  windows  her  grandfather  always  said  told  the  truths  that  dared  not  pass  through  lips.  their  breaths  mingled  in  the  intimate  space  between  them  ,  faces  so  close  their  noses  almost  brushed  ,  brown  eyes  diving  instinctively  to  soft,  pink  lips .  it  isn't  until  she  backs  away  that  finally  she  felt  the  rush  of  air  expand  her  lungs  ,  a  breath  she  wasn’t  aware  she’d  been  holding  . eyes  once  again  drift  back  to  her  ,  as  security  leaves  the  room  ,  leaving  the  two  women  and  the  infamous  dress  all  alone  .  "  im  okay  ,  I  think  this  is  enough  privacy  .  "  with  a  graceful  tilt  of  her  head  ,  she  drained  the  last  of  her  champagne  ,  the  effervescent  liquid  mingling  with  her  mounting  anticipation  .  the  way  silvia  sits  in  front  of  her  ,  her  presence  demanding  ,  sets  every  nerve  in  her  body  on  fire  .  it  felt  like  a  challenge  she  welcomed  eagerly  ,  her  hands  moving  with  purpose  to  shed  her  own  clothes  ,  before  revealing  her  black  lingerie  set  ,  that  hugged  every  curve  with  care  .  her  eyes  never  leaves  hers  ,  afraid  she  miss  a  flicker  of  emotion  or  a  daring  invitation  in  her  gaze  . deliberately  ,  she  slipped  the  silk  dress  over  her  skin,  taking  her  time  with  each  lingering  motion  .  once  it  was  on  ,  the  dress  transformed  into  a  masterpiece  ,  as  if  hand-spun  from  dreams  ,  crafted  just  for  her  .  "  I  mean  I  like  it  ,  but  its  always  different  from  another  perspective  .  "  hands  rake  over  her  hips  ,  turning  to  face  the  mirror  .  the  dress  was  stunning—a  low-cut  drape  revealing  her  bare  back  ,  stopping  just  above  the  small  of  her  spine  . "  it's  beautiful  ,  but  i'm  not  even  sure  where  i'd  wear  this  one  .  "  confessions  leaves  her  lips  in  a  wistfu  tone  .  her  father’s  political  soirées  demanded  completely  different  attire  ,  yet  the  thought  of  refusing  this dress  felt  like  a  sin  .

the  thought  of  her  being  paraded  around  in  a  room  filled  with  polished  trash  that  painted  themselves  as  politicians  made  the  corner  of  her  lip  twitch  in  layered  disgust.  her  pettiness  extended  to  measures  that  indicated  that  she  cared  for  the  other  more  than  she  thought.  “  now,  that  sounds  scary  as  fuck.  “  the  inch  of  humor  that  kept  their  mood  light  came  from  experience.  before  the  incident,  she  had  been  in  her  shoes  more  than  she  can  count  on  both  hands.  fluffing  feathers  of  a  flock  to  appease  another  position  left  a  bitter  taste  in  the  center  of  her  tongue.  making  her  taking  another  prolonged  sip  from  the  flute  that  was  half  full  with  the  golden  bubble  drink.  “  kidnapping  you  it  is.  make  yourself  comfortable.  “  the  cadence  of  silvia’s  words  compiled  like  velvet  as  her  her  head  tilted  ever  so  slightly  at  an  angle.  one  corner  of  her  petal  lips  had  tugged  upward. the  prolonged  stares,  the  lingering  touches  even  with  they  weren’t  within  proximity  of  one  another,  her  perfume  —  she  wanted  to  forget  every  scent  she  had  experienced  besides  andrea.  no  matter  how  many  cigarettes  she  vacuumed,  the  donna  couldn’t  rid  the  femme  from  all  her  senses.  one  in  particular  was  more  coherent  than  the  rest,  “  you  think  that’s  it?  “  her  features  remained  on  the  peak  of  interest  as  a  neat  brow  made  movement,  adding  emphasis  to  her  inquiry.  it  was  a  genuine  conversation  and  she  took  it  as  so.  placing  the  now  empty  complimentary  champagne  on  the  nearest  end  table  before  turning  to  meet  with  andrea—  which  who  was  now  closer.  dismissing  her  security  came  at  a  cost  but  it  was  one  silvia  was  more  than  capable  of  taking.  the  shampoo  she  uses  filled  her  nostrils  as  the  large  yet  dream  filled  hues  of  hazelnut  stayed  fixated  on  the  frame  in  front  of  her.  the  brush  of  her  knuckle  earned  a  quick  glance  from  her  lips  then  back  to  her  eyes.  the  feeing  being  all  to  familiar. the  honeyed  words  that  she  relayed  bounced  between  each  air  as  it  filled  her  mind  with  suggestive  thoughts.  removing  her  hand  from  hers,  silvia  took  the  next  strategic  step,  her  fingers  going  to  pull  a  curtain  of  her  hair  behind  her  shoulder.  curiosity  spiked  with  an  almost  dangerous  glint  in  her  eyes  before  taking  another  step,  closing  more  distance.  “  you  impress  me  more  than  you  think.  “  another  series  of  sincere  words  that  her  ‘  connections  ‘  wouldn’t  believe  was  in  her  vocabulary.  let  alone  smile.  it  was  all  business  —  the  words  acted  as  a  net  of  -delusion-  security  to  sell  this  morphed  persona.  which  was  failing  but  she  couldn’t  see  it.  "  there's  a  changing  room  if  you  want  to  need  privacy.  “  as  if  she  wasn't  meters  away  from  smashing  her  lips  against  hers,  the  femme  pulled  back  to  take  a  seat  onto  the  cushioned  couch.  arms  sprawling  onto  the  rests  as  her  back  pressed  against  the  cushion,  a  smug  smirk  threatened  her  lips but she suppressed it.