'Unrealistic' Woke Characters
I saw a comment under the IWTV YouTube trailer where the person said something along the lines of—They ruined this story by making it woke. All media has gone woke now and everything has to have black people in it. It's unrealistic.
I saw similar comments made about Castlevania Nocturne, The Wheel of Time, Rings of Power, HotD and basically any show or movie that features any non-white characters in a prominent role, especially in the fantasy and sci-fi genre.
Comments like this always puzzle me because,
A. In stories about Mermaids, dragons, elves and vampires that can fly, punch holes through priests, read minds, do kung fu and have floating gay sex, what you find the most unrealistic is the presence of black people??
B. I would like to further examine this claim that having non-white characters featured prominently in media is unrealistic and is only done to pander to the woke agenda.
Let's look at the numbers a little bit shall we:
Based on the latest UN data estimates, nearly 85% of the global population is non-white and according to birth and death rates projections, this percentage is only going to get higher.
yes, these are from wikipedia because I'm lazy
As of 2022, about 60% of the global population is Asian—with China and India making up a whopping 18% each. The African continent makes up another 18% and South America another 5%.
Europe on the other hand adds up to a modest 9.32% of the global population, and North America another 4% (this is without even taking into account the demographic breakdown within the continents where for example, caucasians represent 59% of the US population).
So I ask, what is more unrealistic, making a story where nearly 85% of humanity is excluded or one that reflects an accurate picture of what the real world looks like?
And if we focus specifically on IWTV for a moment, and the city of New Orleans where the story is set, 59% of the population is black vs. 31% white/caucasian.
A black vampire in New Orleans is not unrealistic, what is unrealistic is writing 15+ books set in a city where 59% of the population is black and having no prominent black characters in them.
I know the term minority gets thrown around a lot; in every news program, on every health form and job application, but to people who think like the commenter on the video I say, make no mistake—we are not the minority, you are. And the insistence to center media, history, art, literature etc. solely on whiteness and white stories is artificial and it does not reflect the reality of the world we live in.
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Day dress worn by Elizabeth Marsden
Powerhouse Collection
This day gown is one of a number of costumes in the Museum's collection that were worn by members of the Marsden family. It is likely that the dress was worn by Elizabeth Marsden, the wife of Reverend Samuel Marsden who was a prominent figure in colonial New South Wales. On 1 January 1793 Marsden accepted the appointment as assistant to the chaplain of New South Wales, and was ordained deacon on 17 March at Bristol and priest in May of the same year. Marsden married Elizabeth Fristan on 21 April 1793 and the newly married couple, expecting their first child, left London on 1 July 1793 on the ship 'William'. They arrived in Port Jackson in March 1794 with their daughter Ann, who was born during the eight month journey. As the chaplain to New South Wales, Marsden endeavoured, with some success, to improve the standard of morals and manners. Samuel soon became a leading figure in colonial life, combining, sometimes controversially, his job as the colony's clergyman with that of magistrate, missionary, wealthy landowner and farmer.
Life in the new colony proved extremely isolating. In 1796 Elizabeth Marsden wrote: 'We seem in our present situation to be almost totally cut off from all connexion with the world especially the virtuous part of it. Old England is no more than like a pleasing dream' (Marsden 1796). However, right from the beginning, the colonists of the remote penal settlement that became Sydney wanted to maintain a fashionable appearance. For Sydney's elite, fashionable dress confirmed their status in the colony, clearly defining not just wealth but also their moral superiority. It was to Britain and France that they looked for news of the latest fashions and hand coloured fashion plates inserted in monthly periodicals provided them with details of the latest silhouettes, hairstyles and accessories. More immediate news was obtained by examining the dress of women of the latest shipboard arrivals from England. The colonial elite, including the family of Samuel Marsden, eagerly awaited the irregular shipments of goods from Europe, India and China. At first the lack of local stores, dressmakers, tailors and supplies meant they frequently relied on friends and family 'at home' to purchase and ship the latest styles. In 1799 Elizabeth Marsden wrote to Mary Stokes, a friend in England: 'We are surprised to see the alteration in the fashion. The Bonnet with white satin ribbons is much admired. Dear Madam your goodness induces me to take the liberty to say a little white ribbon would be acceptable' (Marsden 1799). By the 1820s commerce was thriving and a wide range of dressmaking and tailoring skills were locally available, however many still preferred the prestige of a European import.
It is likely that this dress was worn by Elizabeth Marsden in about 1835 when she was nearly 60. Elizabeth died the same year and the dress may have been kept by her children or husband as a momento. The dress shows some of the stylistic irregularities often encountered in colonial dress. The front-opening bodice of the dress is unusual for this time, which may suggest that it was remade from an earlier gown. Another possibility is that the front opening made it easier for Elizabeth to dress, as she had suffered a stroke in 1811 whilst giving birth to her daughter Martha on 6th May 1811, leaving one arm paralysed. The other alternative is that the dress belonged to Ann and was a nursing dress which opened at the front to allow for breastfeeding.
Distinctive of the fashion during the 1830s are the bishop sleeves with flat mancherons off the shoulders, together with the pleated skirt. The dress is well made and finished which, along with the quality of the fabric, indicates the use of a professional dressmaker. However Ann Marsden was known to have been a skilled seamstress and may have made the dress. As with other costumes worn by the Marsden family, this dress appears restrained in style but of good quality fabric and finish, reflecting the Marsden family's social position and comfortable economic circumstances.
The Marsden costume collection was transferred from the Royal Australian Historical Society to the Museum in 1981. This well-provenanced collection includes some of the earliest surviving examples of colonial dress worn and made in Australia, and gives insight into the life of the Marsden family.
Michelle Brown, 2007
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Sunflower: Book 1, chapter 15
Tom Hiddleston x OFC
Series rated: M
Chapter warnings: Our flashback is a bit.. Uhum. Steamy?
AN: Do we get our conversation? How childish will Mia be? Can she act like a goddamn adult? LETS FIND OUT!
Masterlist
~~~~~~<3
It had been four days. Four long, slow days. Four days where Mia could try to think without the overwhelming presence of a stranger in her space. Four days where Mia found herself longing for that presence.
Tom had been gone for four days and it had been twenty four hours since she had heard from Tom. Radio silence filled the air, though she tried to drown it out with music, television and conversations. How could silence gnaw at her heart in the very same way as the insane devotion that radiated off him did?
He was busy. He was working. He was… not here. And that bothered her. A lot. It shouldn’t, but it did. And that killed her. Not physically, but god did she kind of wish it did.
She wasn’t clingy typically but she couldn’t help it. This was his fault. He demanded that she invest. How could she not when he insisted on finding any crack in her heart to worm his way in and try to find purchase to take root.
He had made her think he was different. Hell, he had all but said he was different.
This was supposed to be different.
But here she was, four days alone.
Sally was asleep and the apartment was large, empty and frigidly silent. She had worked a early shift and tomorrow had a late one. Exhaustion was deep in her bones but she needed to stay up way too late tonight.
What was it like to have someone to be at home with, to not be alone in the silence of the night when she had no choice but play chicken with the morning light?
A ping from her phone caught her attention. Glancing at it, she saw it was just another news push notification. It wasn’t a feature she wanted but it was installed automatically with the latest software update. There was enough in her life to be anxious about without getting 24 hour updates every day of the year on what god awful thing was happening in another state or country. It had been a few weeks but she hadn’t been able to figure out how to turn it off.
It was just a matter of time until she figured it out though. She swore it. Every time it had gone off it had given her false hope that he finally sent something, she swore she’d figure it out.
This was ridiculous.
The reason for the radio silence was obvious. She had been right and he realized it. It was that simple. No need to pine, question and dance like a goddamn schoolgirl.
With time away, Tom realized that everything Mia had said Saturday morning was right. In a few days or a few weeks she would get a notice from some lawyer initiating the annulment. Would he cancel the card he left for her to use?
It’s not like it was hard to replace, really. It was just a credit card, he obviously could live without the physical card for a while. How hard would it really be on him if he changed his mind?
“Some promise that was.” Mia tossed the card absently onto the end table next to her.
Ping.
Ignore it. There was no point in checking. It wasn’t him. it was never him.
Okay, she was being a bit dramatic. Really dramatic, maybe. She didn’t know. It was dumb. She was being dumb. It was too soon to decide he ghosted her.
“Fuck,” She slumped back on the couch. “I guess I’ll be able to say I got ghosted by an actor.”
Ping.
She couldn’t help it, she grabbed her phone knowing exactly what she’d find. It would be a second news story of little to no importance to her day to day life. An auto accident near by that slowed traffic patterns or a missing person on the other side of the country. A storm in Brazil or a heatwave in India. It would be a protest in China. It would be nothing.
It was a text message from contact Tom.
“Can I call?” The message read. Another followed, “It’s late, I know.”
She sent a single k back and waited for the other shoe to drop. There was nearly no wait for the phone to come to life in her hand. She hadn’t added a picture to his contact, it was just Tom H lighting up her screen.
Nothing more.
She took a deep breath and answered, “Hello,”
“Is everything alright?” Tom’s tone was difficult to pinpoint.
“Yeah-” She cleared her throat and sat up. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Just lay it on me.”
“Lay what on you?” Tom sounded confused and that confused her. “What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t said anything, all day.” Her eyes burned and her throat felt tight. She needed air. The apartment was suffocating as she stood.
“It has been a minute, I suppose.” He was picking his words carefully.
“Can you just- why are you calling?” The glass door slid closed behind her. If Tom was going to do whatever she wanted to not have to worry about Sally waking up for it.
“I wanted to talk to you?” Tom sounded unsure, on the other side of the country he had found himself off balance.
“About what?” Mia felt the anger sweeping in to push away her sadness. It wasn’t healthy but it was a bad habit that she often found solace in. Anger was safe. For her at least, not those in her way.
“You’re upset with me?”
“Stop asking questions.” Mia snapped. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to make sure you got the couch alright.” Tom’s voice was starting to pull tight. “Why did you think I wanted to call?”
“To tell me I was right.” Mia’s voice cracked. This was it, their first fight was going to happen and it hadn’t even been two weeks. “To tell me…”
Tom’s tone changed from the defensive and softened considerably. He may not be able to read her mind but he knew she was hurting. “I’m not calling to ask for an annulment. Why on earth did you think that?”
“You never texted back. You stopped talking and I just- It’s been over a day and it’s been slowing down. It was just-” she clamped down on the words as her voice threatened to give away how close she was to tears, that safe anger winking out in her shame.
“You missed me?” his voice was so soft. “I got absorbed in work. I’m sorry.”
“No, no.” Mia forced a chuckle. It was all a misunderstanding. She was acting like a love sick schoolgirl. She was a grown ass woman married to a grown ass man. She shouldn’t be crying and thinking their marriage is over just because he didn’t text her for a day. “I swear- I’m not clingy.”
“It’s alright.” Somewhere on the other side of the universe, he sat down heavily on the too big bed. “Things are new and delicate. I’m just as guilty for not being aware.” Silence ticked on. While they had texted while he was away (until it stopped) they hadn’t actually talked on the phone.
“I saw part of your interview.” Mia wasn’t sure why she said it.
“Which one?” Tom asked, his voice warming to life. “What did you think?”
“The one where you talked about me.”
“Did I- Was what I said alright?” Tom wasn’t totally sure which one she was talking about but he didn’t want to complicate things more.
“I don’t like lying.” Mia said. “I know why you need to but I don’t like it.”
“It’s not really lying, its just implying different and reinforcing our privacy.” That still sounded like lying to Mia but she let it go. She was pretty sure he more than implied they knew eachother for longer than a night in the segment she watched anyway.
He could lie so easily and didn’t even agree with her on the definition of lying. The fact that he played pretend well enough to do it for a living showed he was good at telling lies too.
Shaking her head, she pushed the thoughts away. Tom had never given her a reason to think he would lie to her. He has been earnest and honest from the moment they woke up Saturday.
“Hiding parts of my private life is just a fact of my life. If I want to hold anything back for myself without the public picking it apart, it needs to be protected from them.”
“I know.” Mia sighed as she leaned against the railing. The fight felt like it had been narrowly avoided.
“It’s people in my life I tell the truth but to protect the people in my life I don’t tell the world the whole truth.”
“I know, I know-”
“It’ll take time to get used to.”
Silence filled the air again. This time it didn’t have that same icy chill to it. She had missed him and that scared her.
“Tom?” Her heart beat too hard in her chest. Did he miss her? Even just a little?
He hummed on the other side of the universe and she wondered what he was doing. They had a time difference of three hours. It was late for her but even later for him. Was he preparing to go to bed? Was he just getting in from a night on the town?
“What is it?” He asked after she failed to say anything.
She wanted to tell him she missed him. She wanted to ask when he was going to come back. She hated it.
“Don’t be a stranger.” God, that was so lame. Out of everything she could have said, that’s what she came up with?
“I have been, haven’t I?” It was Mia’s turn to be silent. She wasn’t sure what to say. It was weird to be married to a man she didn’t know.
“I mean, what’s what we kind of still are, aren’t we?” It was the best she could come up with to say.
“I’m sorry. I’d gotten busy and fallen away from texting you. I- Luke tacked on a few appearances. The trip got extended. Usually it’s nothing, I didn’t think anything of it. Until I did. But by then- I didn’t know what to say.”
The ability to apologize was not one that Mia had seen much in the men that had spent time in her life. It reassured her that he could do something as simple as say ‘sorry’.
“I should be back by Friday.” Tom said, sounding sure. Just as sure as he had sounded before he left. “I promise.”
“Don’t.” Mia’s voice came harder than she intended. “Don’t promise if you don’t have control over keeping it.”
“Mia-”
“I need to get to bed. Work tomorrow.”
What moments of warmth they had shared during the call had cooled. Would it always be like this? She hoped not. Could she ever feel safe enough to stop icing him out as soon as things warmed up?
“I’ll call again tomorrow?” Tom fell back on the hotel bed. This call had not gone how he intended but who’s fault was that? He should have just told her when the plan changed.
“If you want.” She didn’t know what else to say as she stepped back into the apartment, locking the sliding door behind her.
“I do want.” Tom hesitated, “It’s good to hear your voice. To talk to you. I missed you.”
She didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t say anything. Her heart pounded in her chest and her hands trembled. “Goodnight, Tom.” Was what she managed to squeak out before disconnecting the call.
~~~~~<3
Tom pressed her against the door. His hand was large and firm against her waist, holding her right where he wanted. Fumbling, with his wallet trapped in his pocket, he struggled with the other hand. His pants were tight around his hips and his current state of mind didn’t help matters.
Her nails scratched at the hair at the back of his neck as she clung to him. It felt like she was floating, swimming through a sea of desire and alcohol. She needed him. She wanted him. “Hurry.”
“Got it.” The wallet slipped out. It was a struggle to flip it open with one hand, then find the hotel keycard. In the process of getting the card out, he dropped the leather wallet to the floor.
His breath was hot in her ear. Lips worked, leaving harsh kisses along her neck. As he worked the card into the slot, he moved his hand from her waist to her breast, stopping for a firm squeeze that had a soft moan slip from her lips.
“I need you.” She whimpered as the door beeped, denying entry.
“Who do you need?” Tom asked as he flipped the card around, trying different sides hoping one would work.
“My husband.” That set fire to him.
The door beeped the correct tune this time, granting them entry. Tom hooked the door handle with his hand, slapping it down clumsily after yanking the card from the door. The door swung open, no longer providing a solid surface to support their weight.
Tom held her up with a arm flung around her waist as they stumbled in. He kicked blindly, relying on feel alone to help him ensure he kicked his wallet somewhere into the room.
“My wife.” Tom breathed as he kicked the door shut behind them. Alone at last.
~~~~~<3
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