All burning questions merit consideration! However, I think things go slightly differently than you are expecting.
First of all: Marisol and Julianna Flores (aka Mary and Julie-Anne Jones, aka Marcella Rodriguez and Jenny Smith, aka Michelle and Jill Garcia and, aka ‘Where the hell are two teenagers getting all of these fake IDs?’ (that last one per Hardison) disappear.
They’re wanted for questioning in connection with all of the shit that went down with Julianna’s foster/adoptive dad, and that’s a hornet’s nest that’s not worth kicking. Luckily, Marisol and Julianna Flores are part of the Washington State foster care system. Portland is a whole new ball game.
Nerdy Fact #1434: Wonder Woman was originally based on two women: the wife of creator William Marston and one of his former students that both he and his wife had sexual encounters with.
Elizabeth Holloway Marston and Olive Byrne were among a number of women who contributed to the original Wonder Woman, and they’re fascinating people in their own right.
Elizabeth Holloway Marston was a brilliant woman. She earned three university degrees in psychology and law at a time when few women received any tertiary education. She was a successful career woman who assisted her husband with his work and was frequently the breadwinner of the family.
The main reason she was able to continue working after having children? Olive Byrne, who was not simply a casual “sexual encounter”, but the Marstons’ lover and life partner. To enable Elizabeth to work, Olive stayed at home and raised both her and Elizabeth’s children. She also wrote for Family Circle and contributed to Marston’s research.
Elizabeth is credited with pushing her husband to create a female superhero, and after his death she worked hard to preserve his vision for the character, urging DC to employ her as the comic’s editor (she was ignored).
Wonder Woman’s bracelet’s are Olive’s bracelets: Olive was known for wearing a pair of wide silver bracelets, and Marston had these in mind when he envisioned Diana’s bullet-deflecting accessories.
Marston died in 1947, but Elizabeth and Olive continued to live together until the end of their lives.
Wait. Clarification please. Are you telling me that the creator of Wonder WOMAN WAS IN A POLY-AMOROUS RELATIONSHIP?
Yep! They were in a poly relationship and had four children together, two by Elizabeth and two by Olive.
(And for those who’ve asked about sources, the Marstons’ story is covered in detail in The Secret History of Wonder Woman by Jill Lepore and Wonder Woman: The Complete History by Les Daniels)
Wonder Woman was inspired and shaped by not only a man who was incredibly progressive and awesome by todays standards let alone the standards of the day he lived in but also by a fierce, intelligent and awesome bisexual woman
This is one of the many reasons why the ways DC has ruined Wonder Woman in their pursuit of making the book as backwards and heteronormative as possible pisses me off…
Not a fierce and intelligent and awesome bisexual woman.
Two fierce and intelligent and awesome bisexual women.
You are correct 😀
Imagine growing up in that house
“Mom wants to see you.”
“Psychology mom or bracelet mom?”
“Bracelet mom.”
I’d be so fricking happy growing up in a home like that…two hella awesome moms to go to for advice and comfort and wisdom and a dad who is a cool and lovely dad…
True
I would have had someone to talk to about stuff when I was small and needed it really badly it would have been amazing ❤
Dude, I am way more interested in “Polyamorous breadwinner psychologist and the girlfriend who helped raise her kids” than “the artist’s wife and the female student he coerced into a three-way”.
What I like about this is that the “kinky hur hur” attitude of the op is taken down and corrected so gracefully and so thoroughly.
this is my fav bc an actual major cause for the fall of rome was the resistance of the wealthy to paying taxes which led to a crumbling of infrastructure but who cares about thaaaaat
“Feminism killed Rome” is my new favorite sentence of all time.
Also ballooning military spending, a widening gap between rich and poor, religious intolerance following the Emperor’s embrace of Christianity, and lead poisoning of the water supply.
I want a story about the modern, hyperpractical Silicon Valley version of Mrs Bennett wants to be sure her kids either get married or get a good job before 26 for insurance reasons. Jane is a 28-year-old substitute teacher who has Obamacare until she marries Bingley. Elizabeth is on the edge of turning 26, which is why her mom is freaking out so much and wants her to marry Mr Collins (who has FANTASTIC insurance), but of course she ends up with Darcy, who has his own department at Google. Mary got a programming job right out of college, so she’s settled even though she’s 24. Kitty and Lydia are still in undergrad, which is all well and good until George knocks Lydia up and she has to drop out.
When Rey gets back (with LUKE FRIKKIN SKYWALKER HOLY SHIT), they put her in Finn and Poe’s room. Technically it’s supposed to be four to a room (the Resistance doesn’t have a lot of space, especially with the new recruits coming in, all of the Republic’s bereaved out for revenge), but they’re all heros and also, though no one says it, kind of weird. Lieutenant T’Sol, in charge of bunk assignments, throws them all together and calls it a day.
Finn has been out of intensive physical therapy for about a month at that point. He can stand, sit, walk, and even bend.
He can also, Rey discovers two days into living with him, be a massive pain in the ass.
She comes back from training with Luke–yep, Luke Skywalker, training as a Jedi under Luke Skywalker, no big deal–to find that her stuff has been moved. The jacket she left on the floor next to her bed, the repairs for the communications unit she was working on, they’re in different places. She drops her staff n the doorway, horrified, and proceeds to tear up her bunk. The extra food, emergency kit, and extra tools she stashed under the mattress are undisturbed, as is the secret compartment she built into her trunk. Dumping everything she owns on the floor and spreading it out to take inventory reveals that nothing has been taken..but has it been poked through? She doesn’t know. How and why did someone get in here?
When Poe comes back from training runs he finds her in the doorway, furiously upgrading the security locks.
“Uh,” he says. “Hey.”
“Hey.” It comes out a little muffled through the spot-welder in her mouth, but she’s sure he gets the sentiment. “Check your stuff. Security breach.”
“Shit.” He doesn’t do nearly a good enough job of checking, in Rey’s opinion, though maybe he can’t get at his hiding spots with her there. He comes back over to her just as she’s fitting the panel back over their improved lock system. “What of yours is missing? Should I call someone? I’ll call the Lieutenant.”
“No!“
“No?” She wants to be annoyed with how Poe reacts to things that surprise him. He never gets mad, just gives you this look like ‘everything’s okay, just explain to me.’ It’s…annoyingly perfect.
“No. Nothing’s missing.” And it’s not like whoever it is will be getting in again. The door now requires voice, retinal and thumbprint activation. She’ll ask Luke tomorrow how to make sure no one can use the Force to get it open, too.
“Okay.” Poe goes back to his bunk and takes out a holo disk; he does flight simulations a lot during his breaks, and often will invite Rey to join him. Usually she does, but today she has to take care of her stuff. She spreads it out even further, all across the floor, and behinds going over each and every thing she owns, making sure it’s clean and not broken. They’re not much, little pieces of equipment she’s scavenged and the clothes given to her and a couple things she’s bartered for, but it’s the most she’s ever owned in her life.
Finn comes back in about an hour later, and freezes, his face distressed.
“Uh, what’s going on???”
“What?” She doesn’t understand what his problem is.
“This? The floor, covered in stuff?”
“Oh. Inventory.” Duh.
“Oh…kay. Well can it just…stay on your side of the…” He reaches down to pick up her jacket, which is spread out by his bunk.
Rey tackles him. His yell of surprise is answered by Poe’s cry of “Careful!“ Rey remembers just in time about his injury, and adjusts their trajectory so that she knocks him back onto his bunk for a soft landing.
“What the hell!“ he yells as she pins him down with a knee on his stomach and an arm across his shoulders.
“Why did you touch my jacket? What makes you think you can touch my jacket? Did you touch my things before too? Was that you???” She’s possibly never been this outraged in her life. Who does something like that?
“What? I…what??? Yes, I did! Your things were on the floor, I cleaned them up! Like a normal unit member! Instead of spreading them all over, who does that?“
What. Rey lets go of his shoulders, stymied. How is she supposed to talk to someone who doesn’t understand the inherent wrongness of touching another person’s possessions?
“Wow, okay. Hey, guys? Guys.” Poe sticks his head in between Rey and Finn’s locked glares. Now instead of conflict Rey has a faceful of upsettingly shiny hair. His shampoo smells like night flowers. “Let’s try something, okay? Rey. What does Finn need to understand?”
“You can’t touch my things. They’re my things.” She can’t believe she has to explain this.
“And Finn. What does Rey need to understand?”
Rey can’t actually see Finn through Poe’s head, but his voice when it comes is less angry than hers, more worried.
“You can’t leave a mess. You’ll get us in trouble.”
Abruptly, Rey realizes that Finn’s bunk is always perfectly, almost eerily neat. She has never seen any of his possessions left out on the table, never seen the blankets have a single wrinkle in their folds. If she didn’t see him take things with him when he left the room, she wouldn’t even know Finn had possessions.
“Right. Okay. So, Rey, do you promise not to leave any mess on Finn’s part of the room?”
“…yeah.” She knows Finn knows that they’re not in the First Order and Rey isn’t going to get them in trouble for having a messy room. She gets that him knowing that doesn’t really matter. “No mess on Finn’s part of the room.”
“And Finn, do you promise not to touch anything of Rey’s?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t know it would bother you. I clean up after Poe all the time.”
“…you do? Huh. That explains why I never remember making my bed.”
Poe’s head recedes and Rey can see Finn again. He looks grumpy and ashamed of himself, and that makes her forgive him, all in a rush.
“Good. Well done navigating conflict, everyone.” Poe claps a hand on Rey’s shoulder. “Now kiss and make up.”
Huh. Okay? Rey thinks that’s weird, but Poe handled the situation pretty well so far. She’s still sitting on Finn, so she bends down and kisses him.
“Whoops,” Poe says above her.
“Mmhm,” Finn says, which is definitely an encouraging noise, and his mouth is nice and he’s very warm. Rey takes back her thinking this was weird, this was a great idea.
She stops kissing Finn once he starts making little ‘I can’t breathe’ noises, and flicks her hair out of her face so she can look up at Poe.
“You too?” she offers, not sure how this custom works but definitely sure she’d like to kiss him.
“It wasn’t meant to be literal…oh, screw it.” He bends down so Rey can slide a hand behind his jaw. She and Finn just kind of smooshed their faces together, but Poe does it differently, he tilts his head a little and brushes his mouth over hers a couple of times. It’s good in a tingly, shivery way.
“Hey, my turn,” Finn whines, and Rey breaks off to laugh while Poe obliges. He kisses Finn differently too, he tilts his head back on the pillow and uses his tongue. Rey is so interested by, and so happy about, all of this. Different kinds of ways to kiss and live and be together.
Basically, she thinks they’re doing great at this. As long as no one touches her things ever again.
im glad social media didn’t exist in the 18th century cause alexander hamilton would have come up with some shit like thomas jefferson is Jack the Ripper
What do you, mean, there’s so much rich stuff from 18th century newspapers, where politicians and muckrakers didn’t even pay lip service to being “fair and balanced”. One often used was calling someone an infidel, an agent of Satan, or the Antichrist (Jefferson got that a lot). Another was going through the stock assholes of ancient Greece or Rome, like when James Callender said in his History of the United States:
The maxims and wishes of Mr. Hamilton exceed any sentiment recorded from the hemp-crack-governor of the Netherlands. They rather approach to the comprehensive sublimity of Caligula.
Or, my personal favorite, someone might just say their opponent was dead, and it would take months to correct that sort of thing.
you know what’s always bugged me? when a character is faced with some magical two headed being or some shit and one always lies while the other tells the truth and to figure out which is which the character’s like “which one of you is the liar” or something like bruh literally all you gotta do is be like “what’s two plus two” one of them’s gonna say four and the other one is gonna say 83 or some shit. there you go. answered. go on with your magical quest to defeat david bowie.
Kimchi and Justice 