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adriennebarnes · 1 year

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Paddington Bear

Paring: Xavier Thorpe x Hispanic!Reader

Summary: When Xavier accidentally breaks Y/N childhood teddy bear

Warning: spelling errors, hidden Disney references

A/N: a few weeks back, there were a lot of requests to different Xavier writings to sorts a fanfic where Xavier breaks Y/N’s teddy bear but then gives her a new teddy bear that smells like Xavier so I decided to do my own version of it, requests are OPEN

Y/N was getting ready for her date with Xavier when she heard a knock on the door. Y/N opened the door and saw Xavier looking all nice.

“You ready for our date?” Xavier asked

“Yeah, just let me get my jacket, you can wait inside, Yoko is out with Divina.” Y/N said as she went to get a jacket from her closet. Xavier sat on Y/N’s bed and noticed a cute teddy bear wearing a blue coat. Xavier decided to carry the bear.

“Who’s this little guy?” Xavier asked, playing with the bear.

“His name is Paddington.” Y/N said, taking the bear from his hands and putting him back on his spot on the bed.

“You named the bear Paddington?” Xavier asked.

“First of all, I’m hurt. Second, you have never read the Paddington bear books when you were younger? You have never seen the Paddington movies that came out years ago?” Y/N asked.

“I feel like I should say yes…but I haven’t.” Xavier said hesitantly.

“We are so watching those movies next weekend. Come on, let’s go eat.” Y/N said, they both walked out of her dorm and got into an Uber to go eat at a Chinese restaurant, the Paper Lantern.

“So why Paddington?” Xavier asked.

“Dude, Paddington bear is literally the spectacled bear from Peru, making him a cute little Latino bear. Besides, his uncle Pastuzo died in an earthquake, his aunt Lucy sent Paddington to London with a little tags that says ‘please look after this bear’ like what happens when kids are sent to a different place for refuge where they have no family. His aunt went to a retirement home for bears in Lima. My parents read me the books when I was younger because my mom was also sent to the states when she was younger with the tag ‘please look after me’ so my mom related to Paddington. My ‘grandma’ bought my mom the Paddington books and the teddy bear you see in my room. My dad came to the states when he was an adult and he had family that also went to the states.” Y/N explained.

“So the bear has sentimental value?” Xavier asked

“A lot of sentimental value, Paddington represents my mom’s hardships. Anyway, he’s a very special bear. Do you want to get wonton soup? I definitely know I do.” Y/N said.

“Yeah, we can get the soup. I want the Moo goo gai pan.” Xavier said.

“Half chicken with lobster fried rice is good.” Y/N said, they ordered their food, had a good time, and went back to Nevermore. “One of these days, Xavier, you will appreciate Paddington as much as I do. Good night.” Y/N said, kissing his cheek.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Xavier said kiss her softly before leaving to go to his dorm.

The next day, Y/N was out shopping with Enid, Yoko, Divina, Wednesday, and Enid’s wolf friends. Xavier entered her dorm room, wanting to leave flowers on her bed as little romantics gesture. The bad thing is that Xavier didn’t know there was a bee in the flowers so he grabbed the closest thing on Y/N’s bed. Xavier thought it was a pillow, and began swatting the bee, hitting the ‘pillow’ against every surface he saw the bee until he finally killed it.

“Yes! I got it, ha! Take that, bee!” Xavier said. But only then he realized what he really grabbed. It was Paddington Bear and sadly, he didn’t resemble a bear anymore. The seams were ripped, the bear’s stuffing was everywhere, Paddington Bear was now scraps of fuzzy fluffy fabric. “Oh shit, oh shit, Y/N’s gonna kill me, this can’t be happening, oh my fucking god!” Xavier was now panicking and decided to call Ajax to come into the room. Ajax entered and saw the crime scene.

“Ooh, Y/N’s gonna kill you!” Ajax said, lowkey laughing at Xavier’s expense.

“Oh no, You’re an accessory now, how the fuck am I supposed to fix this?” Xavier asked.

“Dude, it’s a stuffed bear, I’m sure Y/N would be totally fine with a new one.” Ajax said.

“No she won’t! This Paddington is special, it represents the time her mother came to the states as a child, this bear needs to be saved.” Xavier said, grabbing Ajax’s collar to pull him close, signaling that Xavier is being dead serious.

“Okay, chill, how do you explain… ‘bearicide’?” Ajax asked.

“There was a bee on the flowers I bought Y/N, I thigh the I grabbed her pillow but I grabbed the bear. It was totally unintentional bearicide!” Xavier exclaimed. Ajax and Xavier were too busy arguing to notice that Y/N and Yoko walked into the dorm.

“What the hell happened here?” Y/N asked looking at Xavier and Ajax. It was then Y/N noticed the stuffing on the floor and Paddington’s body in Xavier’s hand. “What the hell did you do?!?” Y/N asked the boys angrily so Xavier and Ajax started giving her explanations at the same time. “Stop it! Xavier, tell me what happened.”

“Okay so I bough you flowers, right? They’re right here, here you go, now, there was a bee in the bouquet, I didn’t realized it, I garbed something off your bed, I thought it was a pillow, i couldn’t really tell because I was busy swatting the bee, finally killed it, and then I realized it was Paddington, I’m really sorry, Y/N, I swear I am.” Xavier said, looking at Y/N carefully. Y/N out the flowers down on her nightstand.

“Thank you for the flowers, you two need to get out, I need some time alone, okay.” Y/N said, going to her bed.

“You heard the woman, get out.” Yoko said, practically shoving Ajax and Xavier out the dorm and closed the door.

“She hates me, doesn’t she?” Xavier asked Ajax.

“I Don’t think she hates you, she needs time, I mean after all, you murdered her bear, I’m gonna go hang with Enid now.” Ajax said as he was about to walk away but Xavier grabbed him by his hood.

“Oh no you don’t, you’re helping me fix this.” Xavier said, dragging Ajax to his dorm. Xavier then went to his laptop to look up the bear. “Okay, so the original Paddington Bear is sold on some website in London, costs about 200 euros. That’s like what, a little bit over 200 bucks.”

“It doesn’t ship internationally.” Ajax said.

“Well the other Paddington bears are brown, it looks completely different.” Xavier said. “Ugh, I don’t know what to do, Y/N probably won’t speak to me for days.”

“You Don’t know that.” Ajax said.

But Xavier was right, Y/N did not speak to him. But after school, Xavier had an idea. He went to Y/N’s dorm again and saw the pieces of Paddington on her table. Xavier out them in a bag and went to a place where they restore toys. He went in a talked to the owner, out all the pieces on Paddington on the table and showed him a photo of the bear before he got ruined.

“Is there any chance you can restore this bear?” Xavier asked the owner.

“I Can restore this vintage Paddington bear, the only problem is that it’s very expensive, looks like the poor bear went through the wood chipper.” The owner said,

“Okay fine, name your price.” Xavier said.

“It will be $185 for a complete restoration.” The owner said.

“Done. I’ll pay with card.” Xavier said,

“Thank you son, the bear should be done by tomorrow.” The owner said. Xavier thanked him and left the store. He was walking around Jericho when he saw bear on display. A cute bear with light brown fur, hazel eyes, a paint stained smock, and an artist’s palette holding a paintbrush. Xavier walked in the toy store.

“Excuse me sir, how much is the bear at the window?” Xavier asked the person working the register.

“Cute bear isn’t it? It’s 45 dollars.” The guy said.

“I’ll take the bear.” Xavier said and paid the man. Walking out, he bought another bouquet of flowers, double checking to see there are no bees, no bees in the bouquet, some of Y/N’s favorite candies, and necklace with his initial. He set the basket up all nice, spraying his cologne on the bear, and knocked in Y/N’s door.

“Hi Xavier. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Y/N asked.

“So I know what I did to Paddington was really bad, BUT I took him to get restored so he’ll be good as new. But for the meantime, here are some apology gifts.” Xavier said, showing Y/N the basket. Y/N took the basket, placed it on her bed, and opened it.

“You got me another bear?” Y/N asked, she held the bear to her face and smiled when she noticed his cologne on the bear. “Oh my gosh, Xavier, it looks so cute, he’s literally a mini you.” Y/N said, hugging Xavier.

“Yeah, i saw him in the display window in Jericho and I thought ‘this would be perfect’ and I bought it. You can name him whatever you want, and I hope you’ll sleep with him until I bring Paddington back.” Xavier said.

“I Don’t sleep with Paddington, but i like the sentiment. Thanks for the candies, the necklace is beautiful. I’m sorry I ignored you today…it’s just I literally told you the story to Paddington and then you pulled that shit. But I’m so glad that you’re restoring him, that must’ve cost a fortune.” Y/N said.

“Kinda, almost 200 bucks, but you’re worth it.” Xavier said, kissing Y/N softly. “Want to go to the Paper Lantern again?”

“I’d love to, I’ll just set Benny down.” Y/N said said, setting down her new bear, Benny.

“Is his name Benny because of my babysitter’s a vampire or because of Ben Barnes?” Xavier asked.

“Is it bad if I say Ben Barnes?” Y/N asked.

“Oh, hilarious, let’s go before I remind you why I’m hotter than Ben Barnes, don’t laugh, just humor me.” Xavier said.

“Okay, okay, you’re hotter than Ben Barnes.” Y/N said,

“Thank you for saying that with a straight face, now let’s go,” Xavier said with his hand on his chest

The End

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thrope imagine #xavier thorpe #percy hynes white

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thepro-lifemovement · 1 year

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Can you give me some arguments about abortion and eugenics with black Americans in mind? My older sister is pregnant with her second child and everyone (our mom, her child’s father, our aunts and grandma) are pushing for her to have an abortion. She’s a great mom but she’s young and we’re poor. My moms also delivering ultimatums like she’s not helping her like with her son. I can tell she doesn’t want to but she feels a lot of pressure. I just want to help her feel supported and there’s another way.

Hello! I'm sorry your sister is being pressured into an abortion. That's horrible and completely unfair to her. Keep offering her emotional and moral support. I will link other resources to help support her and her children.

Margaret Sanger, Planned Parenthood's founder, was a known eugenicist who wanted to supply birth control and abortions to the black community because she believed their children would be burdens to the nation.

But Sanger's preferences went beyond race. In her 1922 book "Pivot of Civilization" she unabashedly called for the extirpation of "weeds . . . overrunning the human garden"; for the segregation of "morons, misfits, and the maladjusted"; and for the sterilization of "genetically inferior races."

Sanger's own racist views were scarcely less opprobrious. In 1939 she and Clarence Gamble made an infamous proposal called "Birth Control and the Negro," which asserted that "the poorer areas, particularly in the South . . . are producing alarmingly more than their share of future generations." Her "religion of birth control" would, she wrote, "ease the financial load of caring for with public funds . . . children destined to become a burden to themselves, to their family, and ultimately to the nation."

Following Sanger's death in 1966, Planned Parenthood felt so confident that it had safely buried her past that it began boasting about "the legacy of Margaret Sanger." And it began handing out cutely named Maggie Awards to innocents who often had no inkling of her real views. The first recipient was Martin Luther King--who clearly had no idea that Sanger had inaugurated a project to set his people free from their progeny. "We do not want word to go out that we want to exterminate the Negro population and the Minister is the man who can straighten out that idea if it ever occurs to any of their more rebellious members," Sanger wrote to Gamble. Had Dr. King known why he may have been chosen to receive the award, he would have recoiled in horror.

She also referred to people as "human weeds":

In promoting birth control, she advanced a controversial "Negro Project," wrote in her autobiography about speaking to a Ku Klux Klan group and advocated for a eugenics approach to breeding for “the gradual suppression, elimination and eventual extinction, of defective stocks — those human weeds which threaten the blooming of the finest flowers of American civilization.”

Here is more on how Planned Parenthood would target the black community.

Here is an article on Abortion’s Devastating Impact Upon Black Americans.

Planned Parenthood puts 86% of its abortion facilities in minority neighborhoods.

In the Black community in particular, abortion rates have become so high that abortion is a public health crisis. As Live Action News’ Danny David reported in 2016, “Relying on statistics from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control, the National Center for Health Statistics, and the Guttmacher Institute, the team of researchers concluded that abortion is responsible for… 61.1% of black American deaths, and a shocking 64% of Hispanic/Latino deaths – making abortion by far the leading cause of death for blacks and Hispanics/Latinos.”

One of my favorite pro-life activists is Dr. Mildred Jefferson, the first black woman to graduate from Harvard Medical school.

She also argued that the abortion industry was targeting the Black community. “Blacks suffer more from abortion because what looks like help is actually striking against them,” she said in 1977. “Blacks are fewer. They will disappear sooner.” This prediction has been sadly prescient, as Black women get a disproportionate number of abortions, the highest rate among all women, and in some cities, like New York, more Black children have been aborted in recent years than were born.

I'd recommend you read that article about her. She's an inspiration in the movement.

Here are some black pro-life organizations:

I would urge you to call 211 to figure out what resources are available to your sister in your local county.

You can see if your local Catholic church has a St Vincent de Paul which will give your family free food upon request and help pay a bill if needed. I know Baptist churches also offer financial assistance, if needed. You can save money on bills by getting food for free from food banks, as well. Visit or call your local crisis pregnancy center about what services they can offer to your sister. I know many pro-life centers will give her free baby items and baby clothes, and I know some offer mother support groups.

Here is a master list of available pregnancy resources:

Make sure she knows she's not alone and there are people out there willing to help support her. Keep offering her support! You're doing great! I'm sorry your sister is dealing with pressure from family to abort her baby.

Let me know if you need any other information! Hoping you are able to find helpful resources to help her choose life.

-Sarah

#abortion is racist #resources #pregnancy resources #thanks for the ask #ask #asks #sorry for responding late

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allexthakatt · 2 years

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Dance of Death

Okay, so I've been (like everyone else) absolutely in LOVE with Mr. Eddie Munson! And I just needed to join the fanfic party.

Also yes I know Dance of Death came out in 2008 but for this fic let's just pretend it came out in 1983 with Peace of Mind, okay?

Anyone that knows me, knows that my all time favorite band is Iron Maiden. And a certain song popped in my head while thinking of storylines. I hope this is adequate, it's very late 😅

PAIRING: Eddie Munson x FEM! HISPANIC! Reader!

WARNINGS: A mention of racism, but nothing explicit. Jason, because he needs a warning 🙄. Bullies are ew.

CONTENT: ANGST, Seemingly unrequited love, Dustin being the very bestest friend ever! Ending in fluff!

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There was something about him. Something that made her lose all brain function to act normally. There isn't a thing he could do wrong in her eyes. Edward Munson. The name alone made her blush. How could she not? There's just something about him...

Could it be his messy long hair? His rock and roll style? His sense of humor? His love and care for his friends? The was he defends her so easily and so often? Who knows, actually.

She'd hadn't known him that long. The beginning of her second senior year (not meeting requirements to graduate the first time), his third. Right off the bat she wasnt accepted in most friend groups. Her coming from a whole other state, well away from the tiny secluded town that is Hawkins, Indiana. Not to mention she's one of the only Hispanic people in the high school in general. It also didn't help that she dressed all in black all the time. No one really cared enough to look her way, outright avoiding her to some extent. She's the new kid on the block, she understood that much. Why no one bothered to befriend her was a whole new experience.

Her pervious town was just outside Juarez, Mexico. Her whole neighborhood was so welcoming, never letting her feel left out of the festivities that went on in school. Here? In Hawkins? It felt like she was ghost. A ghost no one liked or wanted around. A certain Jason Carver particularly wasn't fond of her. Him and his petty group of friends would go out of their way to make her day worse. Shouting names, "accidentally" bumping into her in the hallways, going as far to spill his drink on her occasionally. She still keeps a change of clothes in her locker just in case.

She had been on her own those first two months. Hating every minute of it, wishing she could just go back home. It had been a particularly rough day with Jason when two freshmen had seen enough. Jason and his bully buddies had just pushed her to ground, kicking her backpack before laughing and walking away. She'd been humiliated, defeated, just wanting to cry in the bathroom. The two young boys bent down to help her pick up her things, introducing themselves as Dustin and Mike. The boys were her first friends. Sure, they were younger, but they'd been the only ones to show her kindness so far.

It had been a week after that they'd introduce her to the Hellfire Club. Jeff and Gareth welcomed her right away, interested in her culture and language. Lucas didn't mind her really, being a little preoccupied trying to get on the good side of the basketball team. Eddie, however, was absolutely smitten. She was everything he'd want in a woman. Someone he related to in many ways. She didn't live with her parents, her grandma taking her in after a falling out between the family. She loved rock, she played the drums, and was so. fucking. funny. Why hadn't he noticed her before?

Now, all those months later, they were all good friends. She finally felt like she found her people. Her little family in this swarm of assholes that flooded the school. Sure, Jason and his stupid gang still messed with her. But nothing could truly brings her down if Hellfire could pick her back up.

Senior prom was coming up, and although she didn't have a date, she was secretly hoping Eddie would ask her. The one person she'd put up with prom for. She'd do anything for him, honestly. There was a million reasons not to go to prom, but if Eddie was going? That was the one reason to go.

Her hope was dwindling, however. She'd noticed earlier that day a miss Chrissy Cunningham slip a note in Eddie's locker. That was out of the ordinary, considering she was a part of Jason's little clique. She was nice, Y/n guessed. Never joining her past boyfriend in the harassment toward her but never putting a stop to it either. Eddie had mentioned once or twice that he used to have a liking for Chrissy, but that was in middle school. Y/n was hoping the little note was for anything but prom.

Lunch came, and everyone was sitting at their claimed table. Everyone except for Eddie. Something Jeff caught on to first. "Where the hell is Eddie? Lunch is halfway done." To that everyone looked around. "Maybe he had a deal going on today." Jareth added in. "Doubt it. It's the middle of the school day, he wouldn't take the risk." Jeff and Gareth continued going back and forth, Y/n getting too lost in her head to keep up with what they were saying. He's never late for lunch. Where could he be?

"Speak of the devil. It's about damn time, man. We need to plan for tonight!" Dustin spotted him walking up to the table. There was something about him that was different. She'd never seen that smile before, a light flush on his face along with it. He shrugged off Dustins complaint. "We'll get to the planning in a minute, Henderson. I got big news right now!" Everyone at full attention, egging him to tell the big news.

"I'm going to prom!" Y/n's jaw dropped a little. Going to prom? With who? "Really? Who's the lucky lady, huh? Who?!" Mike was eager to find out who, just as she was. "Chrissy fucking Cunningham. She just asked me like 10 minutes ago!"

She was happy for him, really she was. But in that moment she couldn't smile. She couldn't congratulate him, applaud him, nothing. She felt... Broken. Falling, falling so fast; plummeting to the cold, hard ground and no one could catch her. The only person who noticed her fall is Dustin. He'd been the only one she told about her not-so-little crush on Eddie.

Dustin looked at her with a sympathized expression. Knowing full well she wasn't okay with this. She turned to him, too. Waving her hand with a notion that she's okay. Even though they both know she very much wasn't.

"Damn! That's awesome, man. Congratulations, didn't know you had it in you to pull something like that." The boys were proud of him. Of course they were, it's Chrissy fucking Cunningham. Little miss perfect of Hawkins High. The head cheerleader, straight A's, a slim body, nice personality. Everything that Y/n was not. Nothing made her self confidence shoot down faster than this.

No wonder he'd never ask her to prom. She didn't have anything he wanted. Chrissy did.

She kept her head down. Not having enough emotional energy to keep up a conversation. Just wanting to go home. Perhaps she'll just go home after lunch.

Wait. But then she'd have to just come back anyway for Hellfire tonight. A very important campaign to not only Eddie, but the rest of the boys too. Not to mention Dustin's lecture he'd give her about skipping it. She'd never hear the end of it.

The boys never stopped talking about Eddie "The Freak" Munson going to prom with Chrissy Cunningham. Not really having the heart to hear anymore of this, she stands up to throw her food away. She barely ate. "I'm gonna head to the library, kay? I have some catching up to do on Mr. Kellins paper." Without another word, she makes a bee line to the door.

"Mr. Kellins has a paper due?" Jeff not really getting the hint that she just wanted to leave. Dustin opted to follow her, knowing she'll probably want to vent. He looked up to her, like the big sister he never had. He was protective, odd as it is. To be protective of someone 4 years older than you. She wasn't blood, but he considered her family nonetheless.

Eddie noticed her change in behavior as well. He saw the rush she was in to leave, and Dustin's departure after her. Figuring Dustin would tell him later, he turns back to Jareth, who's bragging how he also got a prom date.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" She was in the back of the library, sitting on the floor with a random book in her hand. A book she probably grabbed just to have a reason to be here. "Honestly, Dust? Not really." Her legs are shaking slightly, trying her very hardest not to cry. What's her problem? Its not like she and Eddie are dating, he can go to prom with whoever the fuck he wants.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. He's an idiot for taking Chrissy and not you. A huge one." He tries his best to make her smile, but to no avail. "See that's the thing, Dust. He hasn't seen me. He probably just thinks of me as his sister or some shit. I'm nothing more than one of the boys. That's all I'll ever be." He could hear the heartache in her voice the tears she's kept in for so long. She'd let slip a couple months ago that all the boys she ever liked never liked her back. She called herself 'not traditionally pretty.' He assumed she meant like she wasn't like the pretty girls that got all the dates. Her skin was darker, her body was fuller, her hair was crazier. Boys never looked her way, it had been chipping away at her self esteem for years, Eddie was just the icing on the cake.

Dustin sits next to her, his back leaning on the bookshelf behind them. "Y/n, like I said. He's an idiot. He needs shit spelled out her him to even get it through his head. I know he likes you. Not like one of the guys, either. He really likes you. I know it." Y/n wants to believe him. But there was a voice in the back of her head. If that was true, why was he going with Chrissy and not her?

"Are you going to prom?" Dustin asks. She shakes her head. "What, and see them dancing all close together? Seeing them be like a couple? No fucking thank you. I'm gonna stay home. I wanna practice a new song." Figuring changing the subject to something she loved to do, he asks "What new song?" She perks up a bit and the question. "It's not really new, but Iron Maiden has a song called Dance of Death. I've been wanting to try it out for some time now. What better time than now?" They continue chatting for a bit more until the bell rings, signalling lunch was over and to head to class. Before they went their separate ways, Y/n game Dustin a hug. "Thank you. For checking up on me. I really appreciate it." Dustin hugs her back, "of course, Y/n. You're like a sister to me. I'm not just gonna leave you to cry in the library all alone." She laughs a bit at this, giving him one last squeeze. "I'll see you later, Dust."

It was right after school. Dustin, Mike, and Eddie were preparing for Hellfire. "So, you wanna tell me what was wrong with Y/n earlier?" Eddie started up the conversation. He'd tried to track her down after class, but to no avail.

"No." It was fast and a little bit venomous. Dustin was furious as him. How could he not be?! Eddie was tossing aside treasure to get with a nickel. He had no idea the pain he'd been causing Y/n. Even if he did, would he care?

Eddie looks up from the table. "What? Why not?" Mikes listening intently from the side, trying not to intervene. "Because it's her privacy. She's going through something right now and it's not my place to spill the beans. If you wanna know so bad maybe actually talk her." His attitude was showing through, and he didn't mean for it to come out so mean. He's just protective of his best friend.

"Hey, dude, I'm just asking. Kay? No need to get your feathers ruffled." Eddie tries to make the room fun again, cracking a joke at the end. He can't seem to shake this feeling, though. One he can't really pinpoint as to why. There's something wrong with Y/n? She always goes to him about her problems. Why can't she just come to him now?

"Hey guys!" Y/n was the first to arrive, slight red eyes with makeup piled on top of it. Enough for Eddie and Dustin to pick up on it, but not enough to say anything.

"Hey Y/n, we're just setting up now. You're pretty early today." Mike wants to break free of the tension that was currently in the room. "Yeah... I wanted to get here before Jason found me in the hallways again." She internally cringes at the remembrance of what happened last week when he saw her. He tripped her, calling her some racist name he could think of in the moment and then laughed in her face. She didn't think Jason was actually racist, but just wanting to hurt her in any way he can. Or maybe he was, she didn't really care enough to know.

"Carver can choke on a dick. He has no right to harass you the way he does." He's angry, of course he is. The way he's so quick to defend her makes that sparkle of hope shine once more. That is until she remembers that prom is in literally two weeks and he's going, but not with her.

"What can you do, huh? Let's finish setting up, kay?" She sets her bag down and avoids eye contact, ignoring the strange looks she gets from Eddie throughout the night.

That was probably the worst end to a campaign ever for her. She was thrown so off her game she died 15 minutes in. Spending the rest of her time just following along and giving advice when needed. God, she just wanted to go home.

Finally walking to her car, she was stopped by a concerned metalhead. "Y/n! Are you okay? You've been... Distant today." He desperately wanted to know what was wrong without pushing her too far.

"I'm fine Eddie. Just wanna go home, okay?" She tries to leave the situation as soon as possible, but Eddie refuses to leave it at that. "But Dustin said you're going through something. Whatever it is you know can talk to me too, right?" Y/n pauses, contemplating her answer. "I'm sure I can, Ed. Please just let go of my arm." He didn't even realize he had a hold on her, quickly letting go. "Just... Y/n don't leave me out of it, okay? I'm here for you, whatever way you need me."

Yeah but the way I need you you don't even want.

"I'll see you later, Ed." She gets in her car and drives off. Leaving Eddie in the parking lot alone.

The two weeks flew by like nothing. Eddie and Chrissy spending more time together alone, Y/n opting to take her lunches in the library, not wanting to see the boy she loved with someone much prettier than her. Dustin tries his best being there for her, spending every other day in the library with her.

"She actually changed my grade from a D- to an A! Can you believe that?" Dustin's blabbing about something Suzie did for him, she wasn't really paying attention. "Hey! Y/n! Are you even listening to me?" He claps his hands in front of her, snapping her out of her head.

"Sorry! Sorry! Just zoned out over here." She looked to the side, avoiding eye contact with the freshman. Knowing he'll know exactly what's on her mind. "Is it Eddie again?" Slowly she nodded, not wanting to cry. "Prom is in two days and all Eddie can talk about Chrissy. Chrissy this, Chrissy that. That's all I fucking hear about and I feel like I'm losing my mind. Imagine if Suzie kept talking about some guy that you thought was so much better than you. Wouldn't you be hurt too?"

Dustin nods slowly. Of course he would be. He really likes Suzie, and the the thought of her fawning over someone else made him sad.

"I don't think I'm gonna make it to Hellfire tonight, Dust. Not given what's going on. I think I just gotta get over him. How? I have no clue." The younger boy stands up, "What? But the ending of the cult of Vecna is tonight! What about the campaign?" She looks up at him sadly. "I promise you guys can do it without me. I just don't think I'd be much help tonight." Her voice drops, and it's then and there that Dustin realizes the full extent of her situation.

She's completely in love with him. And he's got his eyes on someone else.

He knew he had to do something. What that was? He didn't know. What he did know was that he hated seeing someone he cared about crying alone in the library. She was broken, lost. Not knowing where to go from here.

"sigh... Promise me you'll try your best to feel better okay?" She smiled softly at him, ruffling up his hair. "I promise, Dust." From that moment, he knew he couldn't keep quiet about this anymore.

Hellfire had just finished, not ending on a very high note, but hopeful nevertheless. The only ones left were Eddie and Dustin, deciding it was how or never.

"You're a idiot, Eddie." That caught him off guard. Sure, Dustin had been a little off today, but Eddie figured it was some freshman puberty thing. Not an Eddie thing.

"Excuse me?" Eddie stood up, approaching the younger boy with a confused look on his face. "You heard me. Do you even want to go to prom this year?" Prom? This whole thing was about prom?

"I mean not originally, no. But Chrissy really wants to go so.. Why the hell not, ya know?" Dustin was having none of it, his patience running thin. "You told me you don't even like Chrissy anymore. Why are you so damn hung up on her now of all times?" The room was getting tense.

"Hey. She asked me. I just said yes. It's not like I had bigger plans anyway." It wasn't a lie. He guesses he'd probably be in his room alone that night anyway. Unless Y/n would've wanted to do anything, in that case it was a whole new situation.

"What about Y/n? Do you even are about her anymore?" Dustin stood up from his chair. "What are you talking about? Of course I care about her!" The freshman scoffed, "You have a pretty funny way of showing it. You've been practically ignoring her since Chrissy came in the picture. I bet you barley even noticed she didn't come to hellfire today, huh?"

Of course Eddie noticed. It was the main reason team morale was down, the reason they'd all had retreated the fight. Their best girl and fighter wasn't there. "I did notice actually. I also noticed she hasn't been coming to lunch with us either. AND that no one seems to know the real reason except you. So why don't you just tell me what's really going on, Henderson. Enlighten me."

"She's in love with you, dumbass!"

Quiet. Neither of them breaking the deafening silence that engulfed the room. Dustin was mad, furious even, that Eddie had been so oblivious to the pain he'd been causing her.

"What?" Eddie couldn't believe it. Love? She actually loved him back? Why hadn't she said anything before? Why didn't he say anything before?

It all made sense. Chrissy. Prom. Y/n. That's why Y/n was so distant. He was going to prom, but with Chrissy. Not her.

"Y/n has been heartbroken the last two weeks! She can't even go to lunch because all you talk about is Chrissy. Chrissy Chrissy Chrissy. We get it, you wanna get in Chrissy's pants. But for gods sake, man, think! She sits in the library all alone because that's where she'd rather be than sitting in the cafeteria listening to how much she isn't what you want."

Dustin was about to explode. All the pent up anger was coming out. His brotherly protectiveness showing full scale, and Eddie deserved it all.

How could he be so blind? So stupid?

"Why... How come she never said anything? I-" His thoughts getting jumbled in his head. "She said she didn't wanna destroy the friendship. But Eddie, I'm gonna be honest, I think that's happening anyway." Eddie's heart shatters. The girl of his dreams, the person he'd do anything for. His very reason to keep coming to school! She's hurting, broken, thinking he doesn't care for her, love her.

And it's all his fault.

How could he fix this? It wasn't like he could just snap his fingers and change back time to before Chrissy asked him to prom. Oh how he wished he could do that.

"You're wrong about one thing, Henderson. She is what I want. Hell, she's all I want! Chrissy... I said yes because I didn't think Y/n would want to go, let alone with me." Dustin shakes his head. "Okay? You should've at least made sure before putting her through all of this shit. This is stuff you need to be telling her. Not me!"

"I know! I know! Shit, I don't know how I'm gonna fix this..." Eddie deflates, sitting down with his hands in his face. "I really fucked up, didn't I?" Dustin sits next to him, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Yeah, you did. But on the bright side, you know she likes you back now, right? Now figure out the next move."

The night of prom. Tonight. A night full of excitement and adventure for most. But for Y/n, it'll just be a regular Saturday. She'd skipped school the day prior, Opting for a quiet day in to collect herself. Mostly to avoid Eddie at all costs, not sure if she could really handle it.

Eddie had waited in the library for her to show up for lunch that day, hoping to explain everything, but she never showed. He instead got weird glances from the scattered students and librarian, not used to seeing Eddie in a place like a library.

He also waited after school, but gave up after noticing her car nowhere to be seen. Chrissy had found him instead, confused as to why he'd been standing sadly in the parking lot for ten minutes. It was there Eddie told her everything. Why lie? She'd deserved to know the truth too.

Chrissy had initially been disappointed, but came clean as well. Confessing she still had feelings for Jason, and was hoping to just make him jealous by showing up to prom with Eddie. They then had the mutual decision to just stay peers, nothing more. Something that took a huge chunk of weight off of Eddies chest.

Now prom was merely hours away, and Eddie was thinking of a plan. Best case scenario, he proclaims his love and sorries, she forgives him, and they get together and live happily ever after. Worst case scenario, anything other than that.

Y/n had been in the middle of the song when Eddie comes bursting in the room. Her grandma had taken quite a liking toward Eddie, Y/n guesses she's the one who let him in the house.

"Y/n! Please I need to talk to you." He was nervous, anxiety ridden. Hoping for the best but preparing for the worst. Y/n stands up from her drum set, walking past him to her water bottle. "I'm a little busy right now, Ed."

Eddie approaches her, hoping his confession would work. "Just... Hear me out, okay? Please?" She nods at him, praying this is just something that has to do with hellfire.

"I'm not going to prom with Chrissy." Her ears perked up at this. "Okay, so? You came all this way to tell me just that?" She didn't mean to keep up the attitude, but she didn't want to get her hopes up, either.

"I also know why you've been so distant. I know... Everything. I know you're feelings for me and I know how hurt you've been these past weeks. And Y/n I'm so so sorry. I wish I would've seen it sooner." He was staring in her eyes, searching for any kind of response.

"How do you know?" Tears were filling her eyes, she had no idea why. Raw emotion was building up without her consent.

He smiles at her softly, "A little birdie told me." She backs up, tossing her drumsticks on the chair. "Fucking Henderson, man. He can't keep a secret for shit." She'd confided in him, told him all her fears, insecurities, worries. All with the hopes of him keeping it between them. She felt a little hurt, but she can't help but feel a weight lift off her shoulders. Now everything was out in the open, and she could face rejection head on.

"Hey don't be mad him, I needed to know. Boy did he let me know, too. He'd probably have my head on a stick if I wasn't here right now." She laughs slightly. Dustin always acted like an older brother, despite her being 4 years older than he was. Never stopped their bond as family, though.

"Why are you here, Eddie? You couldn't tell me you didn't like me back on Monday?" He grabs her hands, holding them together, close to his chest. "That's the thing, Y/n. I do like you back. Just as much if not more than you like me." He's pleading with his eyes for her to listen, to understand. She shakes her head, looking anywhere but him.

"Eddie, that makes no sense. If that was true why were you going with her to begin with? Why wait 'til two hours before prom to confess your love for me?" He holds her tighter, "I should've told you all this a long time ago, and I'm so sorry, baby. I was scared. Hell, I still am! You're so beautiful it's intimidating. Why would someone as drop dead gorgeous as you like a freak like me?"

She laughs and looks down, tears falling freely now. "We're both freaks, dummy. I was planning on spending the whole night right here on the drums." He places a hand on her cheek, softly stroking it. "If you'd let me, could I join you?"

Their foreheads inch closer together, both of them being highly aware of the distance getting smaller. "What, you don't wanna go to prom?" Smaller. "Not if you're not there, babe." Smaller. "Then stay here with me." Smaller. "Gladly."

The distance is gone, her lips finally on his and it's. fucking. amazing. Nothing had been as sweet as her, or soft as him. It was like 2 pieces of a puzzle, fitting perfectly together like they were made for each other. Hands starting to roam, but before anything else could happen, breathing was a necessity.

Their foreheads leaning on each other once again. The tension now completely gone, all that's left is a room full of love and adoration. Both of them waiting so long to finally be here in the moment, neither of them wanting to let go just yet.

"So... Wanna show me what song you're playing?"

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

Ahhhhh I'm so proud of this tbh I love Eddie so goddamn much I've never related to someone so much honestly.

Let me know what you think! Love you 😘

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie x reader #stranger things

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mostly-mundane-atla · 2 years

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i know the history of christianity being forced on native peoples is horrific at best and genocidal most accurately, but your latest post reminded me of just how beautiful inuit christianity is, and how its simultaneous belief of a peaceful afterlife and earthy reincarnation is one ive held for so long. and it comforts me. im hispanic, so catholicism is the default for my people basically, so the ideals dont really quite align, but the idea of being able to move on but also somehow staying is something so beautiful. you could ignore this if youd like, and i know im not explaining this well, but i felt like i had to say it somewhere yknow?

I get you.

Christianization as a means of genocide is certainly no joke. I think it was when Alaska was purchased by the United States that a bunch of Christian representatives from different denominations sat around a map and came to an agreement on who could send missionaries where. I've mentioned before how fucked up it is that some missionaries were disturbed by how we Inupiat were accepting of unwed teen moms and didn't shame them into hiding.

I don't consider myself a Christian. The only holiday I still celebrate is Halloween (and occasionally watching Jesus Christ Superstar on Easter Sunday). I did grow up with it though. My mom wasn't as devout as she grew up, but she knew all the stories and traditions. We went to a Quaker church when my dad has his born-again Christian phase (same denomination as the Public Universal Friend, so that's pretty kickass). Grandma left some of her Catholic things to my mom, including what I like to describe as a "vampire hunting crucifix". It's hollow to carry holy water, it has a card for last rights on the back, and the Christ appears to be gold-leafed. Also among these items were a Virgin Mary figurine and a lacquered print of Jesus with lambs on a slab of wood. I associated these things more with a nice lady i never got to meet than with anything bigger than my own family.

But yeah, i feel religion and spirituality best serve humanity when used to give hope, encourage kindness (even just kindness to the self), and make it a little less scary to not have all the answers. And i think religious beliefs that seem contradictory or don't logically add up feed that aspect of being less afraid to not have all the answers. The world is big and so many things can happen in it and a lot of those things aren't fair, but maybe the forces beyond humanity work in ways we don't understand, can't understand, and maybe that's okay. Maybe bad things happening to good people can be blessings in disguise. Maybe there's a peaceful incorporial afterlife and a rebirth in the mortal realm that you experience simultaneously. Maybe permanence and impermanence exist at the same time in the same people, just like good and bad. Who knows? Not me. That's above my pay grade

#response

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all-the-heart-you-cannot-see · 2 years

Text

It has come to my attention, that many people did not understand Encanto and it's Generational trauma theme.

long ass post bellow the cut, you have been warned!

1. Some historical context

Now, before we proceed i think it's important to clarify something, the guys who chased Alma and Pedro out of their home were not colonizers, they were either guerrilla, paramilitary or even Colombia’s own military (although i don't think Disney is that bold) the reason why i think it's so important to clarify that, it's because if these were colonizers that would mean this event took place over 2 hundred years ago, and although many Latin American countries still suffer the effects of colonialism, as far as generational trauma goes, i think the most affected are the indigenous peoples.

instead, when we place the time of the events where it belongs it means it could've even happened in the last 10 years, this war has been going on for the last 70 years and it mostly affects people from rural areas, they are either forced out of their homes by guerrillas and paramilitary, or their children are taken by the army to continue the string of young guys send to die in the front lines, the guerrillas even take the girls, you are killed if you refuse.

The generational trauma is alive in the Colombian people today, it's a thing that keeps happening and it is unresolved, worsened by the fact that politicians bank on it to get votes from the people in the big cities who have never in their lives have to run out of their homes in terror.

2. My own experience as a Colombian

Now with that gruesome fact out of the way, let's talk about Hispanic family dynamics, and disclaimer, Hispanic people are not a monolith and our experiences are not universal so this may not apply to every his panic family out there, but it does to most. Also when i say some things are cultural, i don't mean they are okay because of it, it just means it’s not going to go away because the younger gens are realizing it or gringos on the internet are shaming us about it.

For a culture with so much machismo, most of our families are pretty matriarchal, either because the father figure was killed, like in Encanto, because he just left or maybe he had more than one family so he wasn’t around much, or simply he went out every day to work leaving the woman as the authority figure in the house, this, paired with the fact that many countries suffered from US imperialism in the XX century means many of us know the stories of everything our parents or grandparents (single mothers or not) had to go through to support the family.

This may also apply to you if your family migrated in the last three generations.

My grandmother wanted to be a model, there is a single picture from that time in the house from a photo shoot she did when she was 17, she says she was going to send that shoot to a magazine for a Model of the Year award, however since she was still a minor she needed permission from my great-grandparents to do it.

they had to leave the country that same year, she came back some 20 years later with two daughters and the money she, working as a secretary, and my grandpa, working as a bus driver, had saved to buy a bus back here and put a down payment for a house, she stayed a housewife when she came back and I’ve never known why they had to leave or why i don't know anything about my great-grandfather, but everybody in my family and my extended family talks fondly of my great-grandmother and respect her memory despite all the stories of her "disciplining them" when they were children, i don't remember her much, but they tell me i had it easy with her because i was always a well-behaved child.

i think of my great-grandmother as Alma. She had 4 children when she had to leave for another country on her own, my grandma being the oldest at the time. Over the years as I’ve gotten older and discovered more stories about the time they spent with her and the family’s return to Colombia many things about the way our family dynamics work have become clear to me, some have been really bad and the result of the generational trauma being passed along and some are great, like that fact that she managed to turn every one of her children into successful adults despite the fact that i don't think she even finished elementary school.

There is no place in our family for a nuanced discussion about my grandma's and her siblings upbringing or how my great grandmother later raised the entirety of my mother’s generation (more than 10 boys and girls) while her sons and daughters went out to work, because for them everything that we have today it's thanks to her, and any mention of any wrongdoing would be tainting that memory.

And it is true, my great grandmother was an exceptional woman and what she did for her children and grandchildren is remarkable and required an immense amount of will and strength on her part but that doesn't mean she hurt the family as well. So many people complain about Abuela Alma being forgiven so easily when...it's realistic and i don't think you have put yourselves in the shoes of everybody in the family.

3. Finally, let’s talk about Encanto

Alma says it herself, she isn't the woman she thought she was going to be, I’m sure she wasn't this bitter controlling woman when the triplets were growing up, they probably got to experience a warm, understanding mother, that helped them understand the magical powers they got at an age as young as five. I'm sure they saw her change as timed passed and all those fond memories they had and the knowledge of everything she had done for them kept them from reaching a point where their relationship with her was broken beyond repair.

I’ve seen many head canons of "oh, i bet Abuela Alma didn't like Felix" or "i bet she thought Agustin was below Julieta" but, didn't you guys see her entire sequence with Pedro?, I’m sure it was HER the one to say to her daughters to never accept anything less than royal treatment, they have wonderful husbands because her mother had one and taught them what a good marriage should look like.

So it's really funny to see all of you go in the complete opposite direction and strip all the nuance away from Alma to turn her into this monster villainous woman who has no regard for anybody in her family, when all she wanted from the beginning was to keep a safe place for them.

Something that called my attention during Dos Oruguitas is that as she walks in the hallways passing the doors and they age her, her facial expression never changes, is the same sadness and emptiness she had right after Pedro was killed and it's because she never got to process her trauma. It happened and she was immediately trusted into a leadership role and given immense responsibility, so she HAD to keep it away, there was no time for her to dwindle on it.

Even with the way she retells the story in the beginning is all mystified like a fairytale, she doesn't let them see how it truly affected her because if she did she would have to deal with it, and in her mind even all these years later she still can't afford to.

the entirety of Dos Oruguitas is her finally beginning to process the trauma that she suffered, I’m sure it’s the first time since it happened that she has allowed herself to feel everything she felt back then, it’s the first time she has realized that they are safe, that her family won’t get taken away from her, and her world won’t shatter again the same way it did all those years ago.

it's up to everybody whether they would forgive a family member in these circumstances, forgiveness is something really personal and the people who hurt you are not entitled to your forgiveness but, that’s why they forgave her so easily, it isn't fair, sure, but it’s how many of our families work, and it's how this family works in this context, no matter how dysfunctional.

#the main takeaway from this is i'm going to throw hands with the next gringo that tries to downplay her trauma #disney animation #encanto disney #disney #encanto #abuela alma #mirabel madrigal #bruno madrigal #isabela madrigal #dolores madrigal #luisa madrigal #camilo madrigal #antonio madrigal #julieta madrigal #pepa madrigal

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spoopylay · 3 years

Text

Hq Boys x Plus Size Hispanic s/o

Noya

When he first saw you his face literally went: ♡ᗣ♡

For him it was like love at first sight.

After a couple of months of him and his horrible flirting, you said finally said yes.

Cuddles are a must when it comes to him.

Everytime he comes to your house, he’s always either laying on your chest or hugging your chubby waist.

How he found out you were Hispanic was when he came to your house and your mom was home.

The two of you walked through the door and your mom immediately knew you brought a boy with you.

“Y/n who is this? Why is there a boy with you, huh?”

“Mom this is Noya, my...boyfriend.”

“HUHHHH?!”

Noya came up to your mom and started introducing himself.

“Hey y/n’s mom , I’m Noya! I play volleyball and I’m really good at it. I also really love y/n, they’re so pretty, beautiful, smart...”

Your mom was ready to beat the living shit out of you until she saw how much Noya really did like you. She gave you “that” one nod that meant she’s ok with it.

After that, he asked that language you and your mom were speaking and you explained how you were Hispanic and all.

bby was so interested in what you were saying about your culture. The dances, the food, etc.

He picked up a couple of words from you and used them whenever you were around (accidentally called you a fucking dumbass but thought it meant beautiful)

Oikawa

Oikawa already knew you were Hispanic before you guys started dating.

You were walking home from school and because you two lived close to each other you both took the same route home.

Your dad called you and told you to go and pick up some thing from the convenience store

Oikawa was impressed and confused at the same time

“Y/n, I never knew you spoke a different language.”

Now he always asks you to say different things in Spanish.

Something he loves to do is, whenever his fan girls try making fun of you for being plus size he’ll just insult the shit out of them in Spanish and then go back to showing you off.

I don’t know why but your grandma loves him. She’s always talking about how he’s “such a nice boy” even though his cockiness sometimes makes you wanna bring out the chancla

If you were to ever shout at him and it was in Spanish, he would be scared shitless.

Like excuse me, did you just try to curse me out of existence👁👄👁

Osamu

It was probably Atsumu that punted you out to him and from there he had a PHAT crush on you

But who wouldn’t, you’re literally stunning istg

He was just obsessed with your thighs. They were just so squishy how could he not be.

Sometimes something like this happens

Osamu: *walks up to you*

You: yes?

Osamu: *pokes your thigh* I like that

When it was time to meet your family he was a bit overwhelmed

“Why tf are there so many people here. I thought we were meeting your family not all of mfing Japan”

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to bring him to a family gathering

He got to meet your parents, they thought he was a good kid. Quiet, but good.

(People who have little cousins this is your time to shine)

Your little cousins tried to rip him to pieces and you had to drag Osamu away from his death.

He looked so terrified

He got along well with your mom and picked up a few cooking tips from her

Even though his cooking already tasted good before, it tasted even better now.

Overall, 10/10 Hispanic parents would recommend

Bokuto

You two were childhood friends so he already knew you were Hispanic and all.

He started to develop a crush on you when you two were in the 5th grade.

By the time you two were in your second year, he asked you to be his s/o

Now you both are in your 3rd year and have been dating for one year

He loves dat chub and will die for it too 😤

He now has a thing for telenovelas and will watch them with you ( even if you don’t want to, he’ll make you watch them)

Will protect you from anyone who tries to make fun of you for being plus size or Hispanic.

He loves to give you hugs. Idk why I can just see doing this:

You: *legit doing anything*

Bokuto: *comes and wraps his arms around you*

You: “what happened now?”

Bokuto: “ tHe WoRlD iS bEiNg A rEaL biTcH tO mE tOdAy.”

Just make sure to give Bokuto hugs and everything will be ok

#haikyuu x chubby reader #haikyuu x plus size reader #plus size reader #haikyuu x chubby!reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #Noya x plus size reader #oikawa x plus size reader #Osamu x plus size reader #Bokuto x plus size reader #gn!reader #haikyuu x Hispanic reader #haikyuu x poc reader #poc!reader #hispanic reader

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rainestorm2556 · 2 years

Text

Chapter 1

I sat in the plane reading my book, I‘m incredibly bored….beyond bored really. I’m on my way to Japan. I’m supposed to meet Joseph Joestar and his grandson. My cousin is already waiting for me there. It was supposed to be just a simple trip but DIO, the vampire who was supposed to have died a century ago has awoken, and now Mr. Joestar’s daughter, Holly Kujo, has awakened a stand she can’t control so it’s hurting her. So now he has this little gang and they’re all going to Egypt to defeat Dio. It consists of: him(Joseph Joestar), Mohammad Avdol, my cousin (Noriaki Kakyoin), Caesar Zeppeli, my best friend (his granddaughter Emilia), and Jotaro Kujo. I’m not alone on this plane at least. My grandmother, Carrie, and my grandfather, Henry, are on the plane with me. As well as Caesar and his granddaughter, Emilia who might I just mention again I’m best friends with.

“Jolie, darling, we'll be there soon.” My grandma’s voice rings through the plane. Oh yeah I never introduced myself. I’m Jolie. Jolie Marina Elizabeth Olivia Speedwagon. I come from a prestigious bloodline. Let me explain how it all went down. Way back in the 1800’s Robert Edward Oliver Speedwagon met and fell in love with a bold and courageous woman, Anna Sun-Allaire(she wasn’t married but that was her foster mother’s last name). Robert was a former street thug who decided to help out Jonathan Joestar, Anna Sun was an orphan. So was Robert. They already had that in common. When they had finally defeated Dio(or so they thought at least) they quickly married and had their son, my great grandpa Idris. Idris Felix Rhys Speedwagon was a good man though Anna Sun was pretty overprotective of him. Idris travelled to France one day and he there met the French model Francessca De La Fontaine. He was enchanted by her. She found him intriguing and fell for him so he proposed before the trip was over and she went back to England with him. The two married there and had my grandfather, Henry. Francessca decided on his name apparently. My grandfather had to go on a trip to defeat some Aztec stripper gods with Joseph Joestar and there he met my grandma, Carrie Medici, her family basically funded the Renaissance. After knowing her for a week my grandpa proposed(please tell me you’re also seeing the trend of these people getting married crazy fast) and she of course said yes and when he had finished helping Joseph Joestar the two were married in London. They had two kids, my dad Robert(named for my great great grandfather), and my aunt Eliza. My dad married a Hispanic woman with a not-very-Hispanic-sounding-name(I know it’s weird), her name is Alisha and she’s my mom. My aunt Eliza married a man named Itsuki Kakyoin and they had my cousin(who might I mention is like 3 months younger than I am) Noriaki. I had an older sister, Lisette, but she was killed a few years back. It really affected my mom and older brother Finneas, and after that I just knew I couldn’t bring myself to be at home so I packed my bags and moved to London with my grandparents. Nori, Em, and I have always been really close. Here’s some more about me: I’m 17(I’ll be 18 on December 21st), I was born Willow Sage but I started going by Jolie three years ago. Alisha…...hasn’t always been the best mom but even so I still love her, the same goes for my dad. Lisette was older than me by four years. I love singing, dancing and acting. I have a manager, Becky. I want to be a pop star, I have green eyes, my hair is naturally brown but to fit in better with my dad’s family I bleached it blonde almost three years ago. My hair is also wavy but I flat-iron it a lot. I have tan skin and I’m 5’8.5 I guess now I’ll describe what I’m wearing. I’m wearing my hair down with a navy blue top hat that has a black bow on it, a jumpsuit that’s black in the front and white in the back, a navy blue pleated skirt, a black belt with a golden heart buckle and black combat boots. Another thing: I can use hamon and I have a stand, the same goes for Emilia. Her stand is Van Halen and mine….doesn’t have a name yet. I also have a lot of food allergies so I have to be really careful about what I eat.

“Bambina we’re almost there, how are you holding up?” Caesar asks me.

“I’m okay, just nervous is all. For one I haven’t seen Joseph since he stopped training me in hamon and after finding out all that stuff about him I’m disappointed, and then I’ve never met his grandson and you said he’s not entirely fluent in English, right?” What stuff? Him being friends with some Nazi named Stroheim and them helping each other out…..

“Certo.”

“What if we can’t communicate? I won’t know what he’s saying, I can’t speak Japanese.”

“Joseph and your cousin can translate.”

“I guess.” Our plane lands signaling that we’ve arrived in Japan. I grab my bag and a limo immediately pulls up to drop us off at the Kujo household.

We step out and I’m immediately introduced to the group by Joseph….after Carrie greets him of course.

“Joseph, how’ve you been? How’s Suzie?”

“Good, we’re good, I’m just concerned for Holly.”

“Of course.” Carrie responds.

“Everyone this is Jolie, Caesar, and Emilia. They’ll be joining us.”

“A pleasure to meet you Miss Speedwagon, I’ve heard wonderous things about you, I am Mohammad Avdol, I am a fortune teller.”

“You can just call me Jolie.”

“It’s nice to see you again, Jolie.”

“You too, Kakyoin.” The tall, tan one, with black, curly hair and blue-green eyes says nothing to me. I guess he must be Jotaro. Everyone greets Emilia and Caesar and then Avdol asks to name our stands.

“It’s quite simple, just pull a card from the deck and it’ll tell me what your stand is and what the abilities are.” If I’m going to be stuck with these bozos I may as well have my fun.

“I don’t have a stand, sir. I’m a skilled fighter but I don’t have a stand.” A complete lie. I motion for him to get closer to me and he bends down so I can whisper something in his ear. “I do have one but I’m going to have my fun with it. It does need a name though I suppose.”

“I see well despite this being a serious mission I’ll keep your little secret.” He whispers and winks at me. I carefully take a card from the deck. And I get……THE MOON?!?!?!? I LIKE CELESTIAL THINGS BUT JOTARO GOT THE STAR-

AND WHAT GOES WITH THE STARS? THE MOON! THAT WOULD MEAN……OH HELL NO, HE’S A JERK! A big, buff, strong, handsome jerk……BUT STILL A JERK! Carrie clears her throat to remind me of what I’m supposed to do. I take the Manila folder I’m holding and I hand it over to Caesar. “My file.” I say simply. Here’s what a file is: it’s all the important information about a person like their name, birthday, social security number, appearance, any health issues or allergies, height, weight, medical records, any health conditions, and prescribed medications, who their doctor is, any mental disorders, what their upbringing was like, etc. So y’know, important stuff. Carrie instructed me to give it to either Joseph or Caesar upon our arrival. This wouldn’t be such a problem if not for what exactly happened with my medical history. I can’t see out of my right eye, and I’m missing part of my right lung. About 25% I believe, two lobes. (One lung has two lives and the other has three) And let’s just say……well Joseph knows this I believe but he disappointed me a lot with what I’ve found out about him. I lock eyes with Jotaro for a split second then quickly look away. Okay I’ll admit he’s attractive, but I don’t even really know him, there’s nothing between us. I bet we don’t even have the slightest thing in common. As this trip goes on I’ll see if maybe we could be a thing but I don’t think so….chances are slim to none. Besides with those looks he could have any girl he wanted, in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if he already has a girlfriend. For all I know he could be homophobic and I’m bisexual. I know I probably seem like one of those bi girls, but I’m sure of this. I’ve known since I was like eleven. Little fun fact about me: I’m a hopeless romantic. I want that white Picket fence lifestyle. Loving husband(or wife, partner/spouse of life leads me in that direction) who’s always home, four kids, a yard to watch them play in with a dog, a porch swing, I want the ideal, stress-free life. I’m not willing to give up on love yet, but I’m close to ready after what happened with my ex, Sofia. And then I’ve been on and off with this guy Josh for a while, though I ended things for good about a month ago. I’ve….dated around, but I’ve found nothing but heartbreak so far. I know most people would say that I’m young and I shouldn’t give up on love so early, but if you’d been cheated on, lied to, and threatened in previous relationships I think you’d be just about as ready as I am to give up on love. I probably come across as just another spoiled, privileged, rich girl, and I am in a sense, but there’s more to me than people know. I may have had everything handed to me on a golden platter, but that doesn’t define me. I made myself a promise, and time is running out. I want to be married and done having kids by the time I’m thirty. If not then I’ll just stay single forever unless the right one magically comes along and swoops me off my feet into some fairytale life. But that’s never gonna happen and I’ve already come to terms with that. My ex, Sofia, she….she really hurt me. I won’t get into specifics but let’s just say I’m left with a broken, likely irreparable heart, trauma, and a fear of getting back into another relationship……

We head to the airport which signals the start of our journey. This is sure to be interesting……….. Hopefully we can just get this done and over with.

A/N: the picture is Jolie's stand, Ivory Moon. Welcome my friends, to The Stardust Crusaders Project

As promised here's the playlist: link

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jojo-reader-hell · 3 years

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Time to show you all how we do it in the pinta cuh.

Gwess x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Uh, I guess just Gwess being Gwess. I don’t expect everyone to assume she’s not going to be abusive.

Also if I catch anyone complaining about the Spanglish it’s going down and I know for sure you’ve never kicked it with the 90’s cholas in your entire sheltered life.

...

“Oye, listen bollera.”

“Told you not to fuckin’ call me bollera cabrona.”

“Cállate tu boca. Escucha bollera. Esa machorras, they do shit differently in the pinta. I worry about your ass because you don’t got one mean bone in your body. Shit, you couldn’t even stand up to the guera who bullied you in eighth grade. But I’ll tell you how it is in there esa. Maybe you’ll have the advantage since you’re going in a bollera, not coming out one…”

“What’s bollera?”

She butchers the Spanish, and all you can do is fucking laugh at her poor attempts. Your girlfriend frowns from between your legs, but you tug at her hair to get her to shut up her whining.

Saturdays, she always bugs you in your free time from writing to spend time with her. What the hell is there for two girls to do in prison on a date anyways? You can play cards with her in the yard, have her spot you lifting weights, all that shit gets old. Instead the two of you stay in, she begs you to baby her and brush her hair, and you oblige. Treating it like your grandma did and telling her stories while she made sweet eyes at you.

“How come you always talk in Spanish whenever you tell me stories about us meeting and falling in love?” She asks, pouting her lips up at you.

“Because that’s how it happened esa.” You laugh, tugging on her hair again and making her squeal, “It’s rare that I even get to act like this, not easy being trapped in the middle of two cultures and not getting accepted by either or. But with my babe, I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

She pulls on your jailbird blues, wanting a kiss but you make her wait. It’s just how that shit goes. You still hold grudges from the time she made your first stint into prison some bullshit.

“As I was saying mensa, as every corresponding event would prove in the future, it seemed Little Mosca was, for lack of a better term, entirely full of shit.”

To a point though, as you would later find out. But when it came to it, she didn’t know you or your life.

Never the less you’d have never thought your time in the “pinta” was going to be as smooth sailing as it was. You expected to get into fights, possibly be violated, become “somebody’s bitch” as they so eloquently put it in every fucking prison movie you could get your little pizza hands on. That’s what they told you in your friend groups too. Stop doing loca shit with the girls and go back to school, school girl. You should be at home studying fool. You like to talk about stupid shit like rocks and fucking video games all fucking day. You’re still a kid.

It pisses you off and only serves to give you a Napoleon complex.

Maybe if you had listened, it wouldn’t have gotten you into a case of wrongful arrest that not even the best pro bono lawyer could get you out of. You expected to have no one to turn to in El Acuario. Especially when you didn’t seem to fit in any of the stereotypical niches that came from being an outsider in some bad ass peckerwood lands.

Last name is impossibly hard for the white kids to say? Three strikes you’re out and a beaner. Try to bond with the other people of color? Let’s face it, even if you’re on the same short end of the stick there’s no spot in that long history of oppression for you homes. Speak Spanglish even though you don’t know all that much Spanish because your parents took “English Only” as law? Now every homegirl at El Super is taking the piss out of you.

But say you get grudgingly accepted by the locas, but they’re the kind of girls that sport hoop earrings, lipliner no lipstick, and a neck covered in hickeys? Well, you had the last part, but when the hickeys were from another girl it tends to cause a ruckus in the barrio.

You didn’t expect to be led to your cell and recognize nearly every girl already locked up in there.

“A la verga! Es La Bollera guey!”

“Sad Girl?!” you exclaimed at the voice, only to be jostled into silence.

“Shut the fuck up!” Screams the guard who is leading you.

“Orale bollera! The fuck are you doing in here homegirl?!”

“Let her go homes, she ain’t do shit!”

“Ay loca! The fuck did you do to get in here foo? Get caught eating panocha again?!”

“She ain’t do shit pinche culero! Let her go!”

But somehow against every barrier, life worked in its own way. You went to school, tried to keep it straight to fit in, let your energy help you to fit in seamlessly no matter where you went. But the homegirls always warned you to stay out of shit. Even though they all loved you anyway, bollera y todo, they always claimed you barely survived outside when it came to your sweet nature, how the hell were you going to last a day in the pinta?

The way they seem to want your freedom, it seems like you’re going to incite a riot among the chicanas.

You’re almost embarrassed. Every mom friend on the block seems to be doing time the same way as you, but the camaraderie doesn’t last too long.

So far the worst part of Green Dolphin was being arrested. Slammed on the hot hood of a police cruiser and cuffed, thrown around like you were a rag doll. Granted it wasn’t any fun having la juda sticking their fingers into where you didn’t want anyone except your future partner to, but that and the mugshot, it came with the territory. Eventually your homegirls do have to quiet down, not before reassuring you that they got your “esquina”. Well, now that you’re trapped in a six by eight cell with some goo goo eyed chick that acts like she’s la reina of the whole fucking place, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to be an option anymore.

Even better… she’s not even Hispanic or Latina. Her skin is pasty white and clashes with her blue koolaid dyed lips.

No matter. You know how to deal with the white girls too. That’s the beauty of being able to chameleon your way into any situation.

“Uh… hey.” You say awkwardly. “Nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t say a word. Weird. You have to scoot by her to take your place on the bottom bunk, about four seconds from opening your mouth to ask the dreaded ice breaker “what are you in for”, when she suddenly yanks you by the coveralls.

Oh… Oh hell no.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Thats my bunk-…”

Earrings off. Let’s go fool. It goes down like Diddy Kong, or more like Donkey when that’s just the type of punch she gets seemingly out of nowhere. You don’t have to turn around to know. She was fucked the minute she tried to get you.

It’s a matter of seconds, after you’ve floored her to the enamel first and pretty much sat on her chest, your hands and an unseen force have her pinned below you with your hands around her skinny guerra neck. The homegirls must have thought the screams were coming from you, because immediately you hear the banging of iron bars as your homegirls are coming to back you up.

“Oh shit! Bollera! Que esta pasando guey?!”

“Get the fuck off her white bitch!”

Their spring into action is stopped dead in its tracks when they see you’re strangling the girl on the floor. It takes them a minute to really comprehend the predicament you’ve got the girl in. When they only knew you from hang outs at Burger King or some dude’s house, they don’t truly know the reason that you waltzed in among them. Unafraid. Unyielding. They only know you that you’re a real loca to be walking around with girls who claim to be so.

They’re dead silent. Don’t even say shit when the girl’s turning blue. Not a word of encouragement or a “ja guey” to keep you going. But it’s fine.

You knock her back and forth into the enamel. She keeps trying to kick you off but her arms are pinned. You’re too far up on her chest, almost sitting on her breasts, smothering her down and punctuating every sentence with a jolt of her head against the flooring as you press down on her windpipe.

“Andale puta, you wanna play that way, I’ll play too.”

She’s blue. Turning the same shade as her lipstick. But you let her stay conscious enough to squeak out an answer.

“Here’s a few rules home girl, keep your fucking hands off me and leave me the fuck alone. I don’t give a shit about you, I didn’t get thrown in the pinta to get fucked up by some gabacha. But you wanna play that shit with me? Al rato bitch!”

“Sueltalo Bollera!”

“You feel me bitch?” You growl.

“Sueltalo homegirl! She ain’t worth it!”

“Let her go!”

“You feel me?!” You insist.

A squeak. That’s all you get from her. A small squeak of affirmation and you let her neck go, continuing to to make your bed as she flounders on the floor, totally ignorant of your homegirl’s gawking but feeling proud of yourself none the less.

It’s no fanfare when you meet up with everyone else later on. They tell you to watch your shit and to leave your cellmate at that. If word gets out, you might have a couple more fights at this rate.

But it doesn’t matter. Smooth sailing from now on since you stood up to her before she could get a hit in.

“You hit me though!”

“Technically that was my Stand that hit you.”

Those same blue koolaid lips pout at you again, and this time you lean down to give her a kiss right on her mouth. She squeals, its that same familiar sound she made when you had her pinned to the floor all those months ago.

“Yeah and you tried to knock my ass out too, but the thing I wasn’t prepared for was to meet someone who liked it like that.” You laugh.

Gwess just huffs, making grabby hands at your coveralls and begging you for more affection.

That’s how it goes in the pinta though. At least Little Mosca was right about that part.

#jojo’s bizzare adventure #jojo’s bizarre adventure stone ocean #DO YOU ALL EVEN FUCKING KNOW ABOUT THE SHIT I WENT THRU TO FIND THIS DOCUMENT #TWO FUCKING HOURS #FUCK #gwess x reader #guess x reader #jjba stone ocean #wlw #implied abuse #abuse #tw violence #hispanic!reader

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kirstinmaldonado · 4 years

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CHAPTER TEN 2.0

I had a horrible migraine Monday night. It was one of those that you feel after holding back tears all day, or letting it out all day, it was centered right in-between the eyes on the upper bridge of my nose. My eyes sweltered under discomfort. The icepacks or a cool touch to the head, something my mom would always do (she always has cold hands), couldn’t even console me. I didn’t feel feverish at all, but the pain was sharp and pulsating like a nervous heartbeat, over and over, until I couldn’t concentrate on TV or anything anymore I just had to go to bed and hope I could fall asleep.

I rarely get those kinds of headaches, that placement and severity. I’m usually fortunate to pass with dull, achey, temple headaches; and even my hangovers are never so pointed and jab-like.

My mom on the other hand, has dealt with migraines for years. I remember her pain as a kid, waking up in the morning wondering where she was, only to find her in the dark in her room, barely able to speak sometimes. I was always so sad to see her in such anguish, all alone in the dark. Silent. Still. While her head throbbed as if a brass band was playing “The Music Man” at too loud a decibel.

We watched a lot of horror films, my mom and I. In contrast to all the Disney films, I grew up on Jeepers Creepers, Scream, Final Destination and all the Freddy, Jason, true horror classics (yes, and all seven billion of their sequels). When she would be in bed, in the dark, we’d joke that she was a vampire needing her rest and that she needed to stay in the dark unbothered, and that lightheartedness to the situation made us smile and contented us.

Monday, Ben asked if migraines ran in my family, and though I told him about my mother’s constant battle with them the last couple years I was hoping mine felt more situational as opposed to genetic. Fingers crossed on that, and kudos to mom and those who get migraines for sticking it out cause they can be a big B-I-T-C-H.

I say situational, because it’s been A WEEK to say the least, with big things and confrontations happening in the public eye and in my own private life. The last two weeks have been incredibly eye-opening, painful, uncomfortable, moving, you name it. An entire rainbow of emotions (Happy Pride, by the way, cuties, I haven’t forgotten about you all).

I feel as if I’ve transformed into a new person with big, wide, new eyes, shedding some old skin that felt a little naive and a little out of touch with how the world, not should work, but how it’s REALLY been working. I’ve been talking to my black friends and fans, talking to my Hispanic family and hearing their stories, and talking amongst my friends and respected mentors. I’ve been doing some soul-searching and digging through memories of my own cop experiences (one, for example, at 17 with two white males [we were pulled over and eventually surrounded by 4 armed cop cars that got us out of the car, surrounded us, and wouldn’t tell us why] and wondering but knowing how that situation could have been if they were black), my jokes of being white-washed or assimilating in to white culture and not focusing on my own, and me coloring my hair blonde and wearing colored contacts not MY brown eyes for so much of my life and wondering what the intention of it all was for. Was it genuine or was I doing it to fit in, did I think it made me prettier, or more likable? Did I think or know that it would get me roles, because many ingenues or leading ladies at the time didn’t look like me?

At a point, at multiple points, all the things I’d uncover or watch in recent news had my stomach hard and in knots. Every new clip made me feel like I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t stop now that I had SEEN.

I was confused. Hurt. Believing what I’d seen, but needing other facts as if I was missing something completely because it all did not make sense to me. How COULD it?

I apologize for all the reposts and rants, but I hope it’s stayed in line with being something you should SEE, regardless of if its uncomfortable or not, so that you KNOW what is happening, while also trying to call action to addressing the issue but moving FORWARD towards a solution. I don’t want violence on my page. But now it’s hard to turn a blind eye.

The organized BLM LA protest on May 30th changed my life. After the speeches, we wanted to continue marching, moving, using our freedom of speech and combining our white, brown, black, and all colors in-between of voices so that we could be ONE VOICE UNITED to be HEARD.

I don’t think I went to the front lines because I was white-passing and felt safer, or because I was a woman so could be “less a threat.” I went because my black allies, who I didn’t even know, asked us to because the front was starting to get unnecessarily violent. I went because I had done nothing wrong and planned on doing nothing wrong. I went, in a way, to be an innocent. Because if I was in the front with no bad intention, the people beside and behind me would be okay.

As we walked through the crowds, their hands on my shoulders, their thanks, flared something visceral deep inside of me and I knew I was here to protect and mediate, and in a way, fighting against hate in whatever form as if I was a newborn Avenger. Someone cried out “I love this, this is what this movement is for!” and that has stayed with me as so many lighter-skinned protesters made their way to the front. Because that IS what this is for. Not to divide, but to unite to fight for justice against those that have unnecessarily been wronged.

I’ll never forget one black man that my friends and I urged to stay back beside us in the lines that had pushed to the front. He was angry. Upset. Hurt. Defiled. I’d never understood the pain the black community felt. But as we tried to reassure him, block him from the batons (from THAT COP), bring him back to the safety of the group, when I was hit in the ribs and the face as collateral because he would have been hit so much worse, the last thing he said as we pulled him back was “I want them to hear me.” And suddenly I felt holding him and consoling him was wrong, like I was a part of stealing his voice from him even though all I wanted was to keep him safe. Suddenly I felt so upset, so angry; although, of course, I’ll never even know HALF of that feeling as a non-black person who, to my knowledge, has never been treated differently for their identity.

I’ll never forget the way he said it. With so much hurt and pain, the anger fading in to just pure anguish and loss.

I felt like I’d silenced someone, so all I could do was get back to the front. It was my turn to be silent and let their voices carry behind me.

I’m sure you’ve seen the video going around, the stillness before the cops were ordered presumably to push the line back. While I can have a whole blog post of levels and steps they could have taken before the cop bashed through my canvas sign with his baton, you can look at the video and see for yourself. People getting hit because they were at the front, with no provocation. The man striking me with a baton, honestly probably because I had said openly to watch out for him, because he was showing a LOT of premature violence, because of how quickly he went after the man we were protecting; yet then only pushing the white girl next to me with his hand, even though she unfortunately was struck multiple times from another officer.

All awful!! All taken a step too far. I’ve never been more in shock. Ben was trying to pull me off the floor so I wouldn’t get stepped on. Our friends were hit by rubber bullets. Our other friends on another street running from tear gas.

The tear gas, the rubber bullets, the bruises and the ache have *I PRAY* started to leave Los Angeles as all the protests have started to become more peaceful and more organized. Since, I’ve been to three and they were all just, beautiful, and moving, each one getting better and bigger as the week went on. I carry a sense of pride and love seeing the aerial footage of all the people Sunday, and I think back to what my May 30 experience was compared to June 7th. I heard it was the largest protest yet. And while I felt like a sardine in a can, it was so packed, it was beautiful and it’s a memory I’ll hold forever!

I sidebar to say, I may no longer be cheering at the literal protesting frontlines with you for a while — I must return to Texas soon for family so must safely quarantine — but know the fight for equality, for justice has not ended just because it’s not trending anymore! I think I’m gonna have to shackle myself to my house so I won’t leave, haha, but know there is so much you can be doing from your home! As my grandma said, after the protests which are the catalysts and the calls for change the REAL reformative work begins!! And the road is long!

The most important thing, in my humble opinion, is to show up. To not be afraid. To ask the questions. To educate yourself through your friends with their experiences or through history.

Humbly, you must think, but what even can I do to help?

Showing up isn’t JUST protesting. It’s signing petitions. Donating to charities. It’s calling local reps. It’s doing the research and thinking, what can I do to lend my voice to help create a better world for all and doing it authentically if even imperfectly because deep down you also want to right these injustices and demand change! Do it in public. Do it in private. But do it because you believe in it!

I know everything feels a bit dark and overwhelming right now! The amount of times I’ve needed a “break” and then wanted to cry because my black friends and fans don’t get the opportunity to take “breaks” is countless. But your mental health is important for you to be the strongest ally you can be!

And if you’re afraid of backlash, understand that many are hurt. I know many feel nervous to speak up in a damned if I do, damned if I don’t kind of way. But EACH of your voices are, and have always been so, so important. And each and every one of you have an important say and CHOICE/VOTE in to where we lead our country!

Someone told me this week that although sunflowers follow the sun, when it is cloudy and dark, they turn to face each other and share their energy!

I don’t know if that’s a million percent scientifically accurate, but the sentiment brought me to tears. In times of darkness, we should all be able to lean on each other for support.

We can all be sunflowers in the dark. <3

Love you all.

#blog 2.0

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sophiexteresa · 4 years

Text

Thomas Sanders Instagram Q&A Transcript

From @thatsthat24’s Instagram story, 25/8/2020. Questions in bold. Text added to the story in (parenthesis/brackets), and descriptive info in *italics*. I tried uploading the video(s) too, but Tumblr is having issues, so here’s the transcript only!

Thomas: I had some time this evening so I figured, hey, why not? Another lil’ Q an’ A, so if you want to ask a question *posh French voice* be my guest!

When approximately will the next sanders sides be out? Very good question! Uh, we are aiming this for a late September release, that’s what we’re all working towards.

Favourite musical you have been in or just favourite musical in general? This is really tough, I can’t decide. I’m between Rent where I was in the ensemble, Peter Pan where I played Slightly Soiled, which was just one of the lost boyos — boyos? Boys — and, uh, Into The Woods where I played Cinderella’s prince and that’s where Roman’s first costume came from.

Are you ever gonna due your hair purple again? I loved it! Yes! I miss the purple hair too.

Do you love me? *laughing* Yes of course! I do love me.

What would each of the sides’ reaction be to seeing the Grand Canyon? *speaking very quickly* Roman would be revelling that we made the journey, Patton would be marvelling at the memories being made, Logan would be telling you to look at these fascinating signs for important information, Virgil would be telling you to ‘get back from those cliffs!’, Janus would be telling you to take pictures to make it look like you’re next to the cliff, ‘for clout’, and Remus would be like *Remus voice* ‘you could push somebody and get away with it’.

Also when will we get more Picani, I miss him? You and me both, Bri, and honestly with the amount of amazing cartoons that have come out recently *sighs while smiling* yeah, I am a-hankering (?) to get back to Emile!

How have you been doing, like really? Mental health is important as you teach us: I feel like everybody’s kinda struggling with mental health right now, especially people in the USA with COVID. Uhm *clears throat* for me I continuously struggle with the balance between work and leisure time, um, social media makes that difficult, blurs the lines, and I’m working on it.

Do you have any tattoos? Umm, I don’t, uh, I struggle with the permanence of tattoos. And like do I, can I, make a decision that I like? But! There are tattoos that I might like. Where I’d put them, I have no idea, umm, but I think like, maybe like, little stars!

What rank of “Gay” are you? Big gay? What rank? *speechless pause* uh... General. You know? I wanna do my duty. Come back a hero. An all-American Queero *gets an idea* *roughly quoting Hamilton* Queer comes the General!

Can you please make Logan day something Patton would say? *Logan’s voice* Something Patton would say? Umm... please, I request more baked goods from the kitchen so that I can fill Thomas’s body with more trans-fats at 3 am. I don’t know, I don’t like this game.

Have you ever dated a girl? *awkward silence* I have. It was pretty uneventful.

Do you miss your friends? *laughs* Oh... *face crumples as if he’s about to cry*

What are you voice acting in or are you now allowed to say? Not until tomorrow.

When did you know you were gay? I think I answered this one on the last Q&A, but it was early. I was like, 9 or 10 at least.

When will we see Gavin? Gavin has started school! He’s back in his hometown, so I don’t know when I’m gonna see him. He’s still getting taller — I can actually include a picture of him that his mom sent me after he got a new little hairdo *insert photo of an awesome Gavin here*

Do you miss vine? For like, sentimental reasons, yes. Uh, I mean, technically it had its issues and I don’t miss being restricted to 6 seconds anymore *laughs*

What has been your favourite part of the day? My favourite part of today was actually... I came up with this last minute short video, and I got it done and I sent it to some friends and they really liked it. I have to save it until Thursday thought, but it’s just nice to come up with stuff that makes your friends laugh.

Janus acting like Remus? *Remus’ voice* Remus here! Looks like the Dukey just dropped in! *Remus’ laugh* *Takes a breath and snaps into Janus’ character* I spend a lot of time with him so I’ve had a lot of practise.

Why do I feel like we’re gonna have another angsty Virgil moment? When is Virgil not being angsty...?

Please can you say trans rights? Uh, heck yah trans rights! I, uh, this one was very simple but I wanted to say it!

Do you think Virgil would be into anime? Actually, if you remember from, uh, Accepting Anxiety, uh, part 2, there’s actually a Death Note poster in his room, so he definitely likes some anime.

Hi! Can you say hola to the Hispanic fanders in el vecindario fander? Please? We love you! Oh my gosh, *a very naturally american pronunciation* hola! that’s very kind of you guys. I appreciate all of the support you guys give, and I love all of you guys.

STORYTIME! I love you: *upbeat voice* Storytime! I love you back.

How gay are you? Like, 15 gay! I rank General!

How did you end up meeting and babysitting Gavin? Gavin is actually Leo’s nephew, so he would come up here, uh, during the holidays or during the summer, and alternate being baby-sat between me and Leo’s mom - his grandma.

What was the inspo for Janus’ outfit? Ooh, that’s a really good question, uh... Joan had a vision in their mind for almost kind of like this early 20th century or late 19th century kinda Jack the Ripper vibe.

Any advice for gaybies to fit in with society? Don’t apologise for being yourself. If people have an issue, that’s their issue that they have to work through. Do not apologise for being yourself.

What type of gay are you? (Math gay, plant gay, caffine gay, etc): Wait, there’s such thing as a math gay? I am absolutely that, and I feel like I’m just gonna be naming traits about myself but I’m a trivia gay, a driving gay, apparently a math gay, a Disney gay *laughs* and a theatre gay.

Not a question but I’m glad to be alive at the same time as someone as great as you: Dude, this stuff is really sweet. *laughs* That’s really sweet, umm, trust me, I feel the same way about all of you. Honestly.

Why don’t you own a doggo yet? I... went to Petsmart today - I didn’t get an animal, but like... I’m thinking about it and this question is like... hmmm...

I’ve run out of cartoons to watch, any recommendations? Owl house! Owl house, owl house. I just tried it, and I immediately got hooked. Infinity train’s also a really good one, duck tales is amazing, and I’m getting ready to start Tangled: the animated series, so *shrugs*.

What is Patton’s opinion on rats? *adorable Patton voice, slowly zooming in on his face* They are tiny little squishy precious babies!!!

How do I ask people for their pronouns? I don’t know, I mean, I don’t think it’s like a big deal? I hope we could get to the point where we could just be like ‘what are your pronouns?’ and then they would tell you, and then you’d just, you know, carry on the rest of your conversation.

A circle has no bounds and it’s the same with your beauty: This is really precious, and it of course came from Nash (?) who is a poet, he published a lot of wonderful, wonderful poems on twitter, they are are amazing, and you are once again far too sweet, Nash.

Dream role? This is a pretty broad question, so maybe dream theatrical role would be Sweeny Todd, dream movie role would be anything in the marvel universe, uh, really just give me anything in any voice acting role, *smiling mischievously* egg rolls are also really good.

Can Remus please say ‘I am the sand guardian, guardian of the sand’? *Remus voice* I am the sand guardian, guardian of the sand! (love that vine)

Are there still plans for the Roman series? *nods* Oh, yeah, yeah, it was definitely hindered by COVID, uh, as was this Sanders Asides episode that’s coming up, which is why it’s taking longer in the editing stage, it is our, uh... strategy, for circumventing the obstacle, and we hope you like it.

Are we still getting an August playlist? Uh, heck yah you are! But honestly, actually, if you guys have any suggestions I should include in the playlist, lemme know! I’d be happy to get some suggestions - but yes. You will be definitely getting one.

May I please see your feet? *confused, slightly disgusted expression* *begins to move the camera away from his face* *holds up a tape measure, extended to 1 foot long* *grins*

Any shows on Netflix to recommend? Umbrella Academy is really good, Dragon Prince, uh, She-Ra, of course, umm The Hollow (?) is really cool, there’s a documentary about video games called High Score, that was really fun.

Roman, who would you say the gayest side is? *Roman’s voice* Oh, we’re all equally gay, okay? *chuckles* it’s a sexuality, not a personality trait. *takes a breath and speaks quickly* I’m just kidding it’s *sings* meeeeee!

If you were not a YouTuber, what would you see yourself doing and why? Uh, maybe putting my chemical engineering degree to some use. *laughs awkwardly* Uh, I went to school for 5 years for that one.

Like you literally make me so flipping happy: I’m glad! I don’t know what I’m doing to do that, but the feeling is absolutely mutual.

Can we have Virgil saying “Falsehood”? *hair already over one eye, in Virgil’s voice* Uh, c’mon, okay, sure. *very quietly and unenthusiastically* falsehood. Is that good? Is that? I don’t know, I don’t wanna steal his bit.

Which Sanders Side do you feel you embody most? Ah, I would probably say it’s either Patton or Roman because Patton can be definitely me, all the time, just really enthusiastic about things and finding things cute, but Roman... Roman’s sensitivity, oh. That’s me.

What was the first job you had? I actually worked as a page in a library! A- pages basically just kinda like, shelve books, check books out; it’s one of the chillest jobs I’ve ever had, one of my favourites, and my dad always had a lovely dad joke for it: ‘you’re working as a page, when do you get promoted to a book?’

How tall are you? I usually say 5ft 10, but I think I’m trying to be a little more realistic with myself. And I’m probably 5ft 9 and a half. *zooms in on his face, staring into the camera* I’m holding onto that half a foot for all dear life.

DROP THE SKIN ROUTINE PLEASE! This is very sweet, uh, I, *laughs nervously*, uh, I use Curology? They’re very nice. Umm, just... different kinds of lotion, I guess. (I suppose I should write down what I do lol)

Can we get a FALSEHOOD? *is standing* *clears throat* *points upwards from his eyeline* FALSEHOOD!

Do you have a boyfriend if not are you planning on dating soon? I do not, uh, dating is kinda difficult right now midst COVID, you know, kinda tough... love... in the time of Corona... umm, but, you know, option’s open.

When was your first kiss? I’m sure I’ve answered this somewhere, it was in high school, I might have been 15 or 16. It was with a girl. *Shakes head* And all I can remember is hitting teeth. A lot.

Can we get a super super vague hint about the new Asides episode? Alright, I’m getting ready to end the Q&A, so this, you know, if you’ve made it so far you deserve this super vague answer, umm... it includes a side that was not in the last episode. (This isn’t much, I apologise lol)

Thomas: And that is it for this evening! Thank you so much, you guys, for watching. I know some of you are still over in Europe watching and it’s like 4 in the morning, and I need to go to bed so thank you all so much for your questions - I gotta do this more often ‘cause I really enjoy it. Love you guys, gals, and non-binary pals. Peace out!

#edit: if you want to see the video(s) then please feel free to ask and i’ll try to send it to you! thanks so much #WOAH #This took me literaly hours to write up #probably 5 or so hours #i've been at it all day #anyhow tags!#thomas sanders #sanders sides #tss #tssides #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts janus #ts remus #ts virgil #ts #if there's any corrections i need to make please tell me since i'm too tired to re-read

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ksyescribe · 4 years

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𝐵𝑜𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝐿𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑥 𝑆/𝑂 (𝑖.𝑒. 𝐿𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛 𝐾𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠) ♡

Featuring: Nishinoya, Tanaka, Bokuto A/N: I started these headcanons a few days back when I was in the middle of a rest/writer slump and just finished them today. They’re hella messy but I really enjoyed writing them and I hope that you guys enjoy reading them :))

Nishinoya

Y’all we’ve known that Noya is a Latin King himself like cmon now? Do y’all see his energy??

Anyways he would 1000% have a latina girlfriend like I just KNOW IT IN MY SOUL

You never have to feel embarrassed about your family with him because he’s just as loud as they are!!!

He literally vibes with EVERYONE in your family

The loud ass fuck drunk uncles? He’s vibing

Ladies in the kitchen making the traditional food? Vibing. He even offers to help!!!

Little kids playing the weirdest games with a bunch of chairs at the back of the party? Vibing.

Noya would just fit so perfectly in those loud as hell hispanic parties like I can just imagine him being a visual learner and seeing everyone dance like bachata, salsa, and all the other dances

AND THEN he grabs you and just starts pulling you to the dance floor to dance with him

He’s actually so good??? Like he literally watched for a few minutes and just started moving?? This mans hips? Wow they’re out here swaying from side to side be prepared

Wow I went off on the party but like, Noya would just be so happy to be dating you

He really doesn’t care that you’re a foreigner and what not, he just knows your personality, heart, and whole being are beautiful and that he’s so lucky to have you

I think the whole relationship would be filled with so much happiness and excitement because you’re both learning about each other’s cultures and stuff without even trying

Like you invite him over to meet your family one day and it just happens to be the day your mom is making Pan Dulce and like the most traditional plate of food from your country

And when he sits down to eat he just loves it so much!! Literally will not stop eating, your mom’s about to cry because no one’s ever eaten her food with that much gusto before

Idk bout y’all but my parents love to take pictures from ALL our family trips and we have hats and stuff from all that so pops would probably sit down with noya and show them all of that and noya just loves it!! Like so much his eyes are starry eyes (perhaps what inspires him to travel the world hmmm)

If you have siblings he definitely will play with them when he comes over.

Will probably do that plane thing that adults do where they’re just making the kids fly all around (your siblings love him so much it’s crazy)

Never one for giving too many lessons but if you ask him about something in Japanese culture he’ll probably look a place he can take you to show you more

His favorite times are when you ask about anything food related because it means he can take you on dates to restaurants where he gets to see your reactions

He loves taking you to like the Shonen Jump shops or anything similar because just watching you go through all the parts of the store and seeing all these things catch your attention would make him so soft

Probably grabs your hand and gives you a quick cheek kiss when he’s watching you

Would be 1000% down to go back to your home country

Loves you, your culture, and even tries to learn some Spanish for you

(but his accents so thick you laugh every time he tries to speak, it’s okay you give him a kiss and some sweets from your country as a thank you for trying)

Tanaka

*inhale* THIS MAN BELONGS TO THE HISPANICS I DONT MAKE THE RULES *exhale*

Right so

I don’t even know where to begin with Tanaka because I literally have like 75000 thoughts of him at a bull riding event going through my mind

BUT he’s a soft boy I know for a fact, loud on the outside but very soft.

With Tanaka I do see him wilding out at parties

Like imagine him seeing a pinata for the first time?

Better have a separate pinata for him because he’ll go crazy swinging on that thing

Is even more surprised that there’s candy inside!!!! Like what?? He thought hitting it was super fun but now this?

Loves it, immediately wants to break open another one

But I also see Tanaka being super soft with your family

Like have you seen the manga panel of him floating around in an apron?

Your grandma would probably give him one of her aprons and she’ll be teaching him how to make tortillas in such a soft spanish

And he looks so panicked?? Just glancing at you every single second, trying to figure out if he’s doing it right or not.

Constantly asking you “What is she saying? Am I doin it right? Can you please tell her I’m trying my best?”

God I’m so soft like I just love him so much

Your grandma loves him always rubbing his head and pinching his cheeks

He always blushes super hard when she does that and turns even more red when you tell him that she likes him and calls him “Mijo” now

She actually tells him stories about the olden days back home and Tanaka listens so intently even though he doesn’t understand but then turns to you as you translate the story

Warms up to the affectionate side of hispanic families really quick, like he kisses you on the cheek when he meets your family like second nature. He even did it to you one morning and then got all red when he remembered that they don’t really be doing that shiz in Japan

I feel like Tanaka would really really like the traditions hispanic families do or how much emphasis they put on holidays and family together

Like he’ll probably come over on the 24th for Noche Buena and just loves the atmosphere of the holiday and the connection with family (and of course the food)

It’s a really big contrast to the quieter Christmas his family will be celebrating the next day

Will definitely bring a Japanese Christmas Cake from the fanciest store he can afford as his own gift to the potluck

I know we see Tanaka as wild as hell sometimes but I feel like in a hispanic setting he’ll just go soft, or maybe I’m just soft for him who knows

Bokuto

So for all my POC do y’all know when you’re at the store with your immigrant parents and they see a cute boy and they’re like “You see him, I want you to find someone as handsome as him.” (my mom says this to me literally all the time god damn bro pls im trynna live)

This is what every hispanic mother says when they see Bokuto

All the ladies in your family will literally get FLUSTERED when you bring him home

“Ay Mija he’s so handsome why didn’t you tell us”

(This happened to me once never brought a boy home ever again smh)

Anyways he gets the approval from your male relatives when he helps them lug all the heavy shit they work with with no problem

Like he just grabs something that’s 50 pounds and he’s like , “Yeah where do you guys need this?”

He’s so versatile, like I feel like he can vibe with any setting your family’s at

Loud party type? Vibing. Gossiping in the kitchen with your aunts and cousins? Man’s is INVESTED in the chisme! The guys in your family working on home renovations or on any other project? He’s helping them hands down.

Is the type to eat ALL the food that your family offers him. He will literally have a bite of everything even before you tell him what it is. Your mom is beaming when he eats her Arroz Con Leche

Cannot bake for ANYTHING!!! But he somehow cooks meat perfectly?? I’m so?? He literally cannot make any sweets but if you gave him some slabs of meat or a pork shoulder to roast he has that down perfectly.

Your mom actually asks him to come over and help her make the Pernil for special occasions because he’s the only one who can manage to make the skin as crisp as he does. The only one who knows how to do it better is your grandma

Will beg for you to bring him stuff back to your home country. He wants it all: souvenirs, shirts, candy, chips. He even tries to give you money but you brush him off.

Of all three of these boys I feel like he’s the most likely to actually go visit your home country with you!! Like he’s so excited to go out there and see the place where your family comes from

When he gets there EVERYONE will love him.

Somehow makes friends with strangers on the street (something that I’ve done irl when I go back home lmaooo)

He wants to try every single food cart around the area.

Falls in love with the people and food of your country. You’ll probably be on your first trip and he’s already asking you when you can go back.

If you ever take him to all the nature filled areas or just like a random river that runs through a certain area he’ll be enamored!

Loves the country, loves the culture, loves you :)

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jongomez98 · 3 years

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Disruption of Culture

The last major standpoint that will be said is the great disruption of culture that comes with migration to the US. As a young boy I remember taking a trip to Dominican Republic and enjoying the natural scenery and authentic Dominican food. The atmosphere provided by the seemingly more natural lifestyle added an appreciation to my heritage as well as a deeper understanding of how my grandparents lived. As aforementioned in my last post, food is a very easy means to associate loosely and interact with a person’s culture. When coming to the US, food is made at a faster pace and met with different standards as food is considered safer and cleaner as opposed to small islands in the Caribbean. But there are natural processes such as generational cooking recipes that may seem outdated due to technology, but impact the way food tastes. This is just one of the many ways that disruption of one's culture can occur and is very prevalent when considering that many migrants have a hard time adapting, especially in a robust city such as NYC. The interview that took place was between my grandmother who was originally from Puerto Rico and came over here when she was in her early twenties. She spoke in Spanish so I will be translating the interview into English; CG(me), DC(Grandmother).

CG: So grandma, how did you feel when you first came to the US

DC: I remember how pretty the city was when I first got here, and also a sense of alienation as I felt truly far from home for the first time in my entire life.

CG: What were some of the things that you noticed about NYC?

DC: The first thing I noticed was that there were very few trees, there were huge buildings everywhere I looked and so many people everywhere. It was full of life though, the people themselves seemed like they were rushing somewhere while going about their day.

CG: was the fast paced life something that was easy to adapt to?

DC: It was extremely difficult at first especially when trying to get a job, it was completely different to living on the Island, everything was high paced and high energy, I was overwhelmed at times trying to keep up. But eventually I learned the climate of NYC and once I learned how to tell which train went in what direction I became a real New Yorker (laughs).

CG: When you first arrived, where did you live?

DC: When I first moved here, I stayed with a friend in Washington Heights, there were a lot of immigrants who had just moved too. Most of them couldn’t afford the rent in Manhattan so they all moved to either the Bronx or to parts of Queens. I moved to Bushwick in the 1980's, when I had your mother. It was a cozy tight knit community that was a mixture of Hispanic and other minorities.

CG: Can you tell me more about what it was like in Bushwick raising kids?

DC: It was pretty difficult as I relied heavily on my kids to translate a lot of the conversations, as the primary language was English. It was hard to give up my Spanish and adapt to English because no one ever taught me past my high school education. The community itself was filled with a lot of Hispanics who only spoke in Spanish as well, so it wasn’t always too difficult to find someone who spoke Spanish. The area was a lot more dangerous and there was an unwelcoming atmosphere surrounding the community to outsiders. A lot of the public places were either run down or vandalized to keep outsiders away.

CG: When you say outsiders what kind of people are you referring to?

DC: You know who I mean, young white couples and people who came from wealth, the community was very poor so it was very easy to come and buy property in the area, it was underdeveloped and the upper class saw an opportunity to convert the area. By the time I was ready to leave to another apartment in the early 2000s the area began to change.

CG: What changes did you notice?

DC: The first things that I immediately noticed were the rebuilding of a lot of public spaces, such as parks and modifying spaces that were lovely damaged, such as sidewalks and crosswalks that were rundown. But generally it was good for the community as it made the community appear to be clean. People of the community noticed these changes and others retaliated by continuing to vandalize public spaces, through graffiti and intentionally dumping trash. Crime rates also went up to dissuade people from moving in by making the area seemingly more dangerous than before.

CG: Why do you think people didn’t welcome these new changes?

DC: People obviously don’t welcome change, especially in a community with mostly poor residents, they feel as though having a nice area means higher rent and cost of living. In order to counter this they create unnecessary turmoil.

CG: Is there anything else you want to mention in regards to disruption of culture within the area?

DC: It's clear to see that through these niceties there were big changes that were brewing, and the community retaliation was a warning for these outsiders. Now that the community itself has changed, it's no wonder why those people fought so hard to preserve the organic sense of belonging within the community. Everyone used to be friends with their neighbors and kids would often run around together and play on the sidewalks and sit on stoops having a laugh. It's sad to see that this culture no longer exists within this community with new renovations of old buildings getting rid of the simplicity of older times. Now with all the rent skyrocketing, the people I used to be friends with have either been forced out or are struggling to survive now.

This interview that I had with my grandma highlights some of the organic culture that was formed by a melting pot of culture and as it has been gentrified more and more it seems that the culture has been discarded in place of more modern and formal life. The community still holds certain traditions, but the culture that once used to be is no longer here. After immigrating to this country in pursuit of a better life, it's sad that a place my grandma had made her second home has been uprooted in an effort to make a more desirable community to gentrifiers. Below is a picture of me and my grandma.

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alitaimagines · 4 years

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“Hi can you write Hispanic reader taking Dabi to meet their huge family at their family party where there’s judgmental tias and a grandma who like your too skinny you need to eat.”

dabi x fem! reader

fandom: my hero academia / boku no hero academia

note / song recommendation: so basically my family, right?? if my grandma seen dabi irl, there’d be two plates of tamales and a bowl of posole at the ready. at least she did that with my last bf. / la cuichi - banda la alterada, dos botellas de mescal - los morros del norte

You were curling your last bit of hair as Dabi sat on the couch, munching on whatever he found the pantry. He was nervous, he couldn’t lie. Dabi was meeting your family for the first time and although he never mentioned it, deep down inside, he was scared.

Dabi never seen himself in such a situation as he is now but he really liked you and didn’t want to fuck it up by not getting off on the right foot with your family. You on the other hand were excited that your family was finally meeting your first serious boyfriend.

You gave him the rundown. Say hello to all of you family members, remembering to hug your mom and grandmother as well as accepting the beer your uncles offered him. It was simple enough!

“Dabi, are you ready?” You screamed from the bathroom. “We need to pick up the cake before we get to the party!”

He laughed. “I’ve been ready for the last hour and a half, babygirl!” You rolled your eyes as you left the bathroom and slipped the heels on. Dabi bit his lip as he watched put on perfume.

“Remind me, what is this for again?” “It’s my cousins quince, it’s basically a welcome to womanhood party. I was the godmother of ordering and picking up the cake and it should be ready any minute!”

You smacked his butt as an implication to head out the door. He growled as he smacked yours back. The two of you got into your car as you started to fix the tie he totally didn’t want to wear.

“Okay, did you put the gift in the back seat?” Dabi nodded. “Great, now off to the bakery for the cake and after that, we should head to the party.” Dabi nodded again as he pulled out of the driveway to your house.

You got the cake safely to the party as you were instructed to leave it in your car until they decided to cut it. You got out of the car and grabbed the gift as you walked up to Dabi and fixed his tie once more.

“Okay, you ready to meet them?” You asked. Dabi chuckled before giving you a quick kiss. “I’m ready for anything. Are they ready to meet me?” You slapped his arm jokingly as you slipped your hand into his and walked in.

As Dabi walked into the venue, he noticed all of your family members staring right at him. Suddenly Dabi realized why you fretting over him so much. You gave a kiss on the cheek to all of your aunts, as you shook hands with your uncles. Dabi doing the same after you.

“What’s his name?” One of your aunts asked. You gave her a smile before saying a quick goodbye and silently thanking the air that your sister suddenly called you over. “Hey, mom wanted to know if you brought tongs for the tacos they’re making!” You nodded as you dug into your purse and whipped the smallest pair you had.

Dabi gave you a bewildered look, totally not realizing that you had a pair of tongs shoved into your purse. “Want to say hi to my grandmother? She’s been nagging for me to introduce you to her.” Dabi laughed as you grabbed his hand and led him to the kitchen where your grandmother and a few of your siblings were.

“Hey!” You screamed as you got everyones attention. Your siblings waved at you. They had already met Dabi a few months ago. The only one left was your grandma who was always busy when you tried to have her over.

Your grandma immediately stared at Dabi before analyzing his entire body. “You’re far too skinny, don’t you feed him, ( your name )?” Your grandma asked. You immediately covered your face as Dabi couldn’t stop laughing.

“Yeah, don’t you feed me?” He taunted. You slapped the back of his leg with your foot as your grandma immediately scolded you for hitting him. “The food should be ready any minute. Go find a table so you can finally feed him.” You immediately nodded as you booked it out of the kitchen.

The two of you looked at each other as the look of relief washed over your face. “That went well! I think it could’ve gone a lot worse.” Dabi chuckled as he still could feel the eyes of your aunt on him. “I don’t think your aunts liked me though.” He whispered.

“Who cares? They’re always just a bunch of chismosa’s, anyway. I can already hear it in my head, “Why isn’t she married to someone in our culture?” and “He doesn’t even look right here!”. What matters is that I wanted you here and everyone else can fuck off.” You ranted as you sat at one of the tables, farthest from your aunts.

Dabi stared at you, not expecting that answer from you. “You said married, I didn’t know we were married!” You slapped his arm again as he pretended to act as if it hurt. “You get what I mean.”

Before he could respond, your grandmother screamed that everything was ready to eat. Dabi stared at all the food choices. Posole, tamales, two different kinds of caldo, and carne con chile.

“What are you in the mood for? It better be spicy because from the looks of it, everything is spicy.” Dabi picked up a bowl and poured himself the green posole before picking up another plate and putting some kind of meat on it.

The two of you got back to the table where your siblings and a few of your cousins were sitting at. “Hey man, do you want a beer?” One of you cousins asked.

Dabi knew he couldn’t say no. “Sure.” He responded. Your cousin nodded as he handed him two Corona’s. Dabi wasn’t much of a drinker but from the looks of it, you were.

You had already downed half a bottle of Modelo without him realizing. The rest of the dinner was spent not talking, just everyone stuffing their faces with food until everyone looked like they were ready to blow up.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten this much.” Dabi groaned as he felt like his pants were about to pop. You laughed as you took a sip from your beer. “Honestly, I can bet you any money that there’s still food to be served.” Dabi gave you a look as he heard your grandma scream that another portion of food was ready.

This time around, it was potato salad and tacos. “Baby, I don’t think I can eat anymore.” You gave him a look. “I know there’s room for at least one taco.” Dabi thought for a moment before looking down at the plate of tacos that your mom had brought you.

“I guess you’re right.”

The two of you dived back into the food along with your family before you could scolded that you left most of the food on the plate. This time, Dabi felt as if he was ready to throw up from how much he had eaten.

Your cousin whipped out a bottle of Lime Jose Cuervo from underneath the table. “Here, pass these around!” He asked you as you took out the shot glasses from the case he had them in and handed one to everyone except Dabi who offered to be the DD on the way back home.

“Come on! Just one, as an initiation to the family!” You cousin said as threatened your cousin to only give him one shot before he was cut off. He poured the Jose Cuervo into everyones glasses before counting down and having everyone chug it down.

Dabi had never seen you so in your element before but as you continued to drink with your family, he was able to tell that this wasn’t the first time you had drank that way.

Halfway through the bottle of Corralejo Tequila, Dabi noticed you were already on the verge of getting blacked out drunk. You were singing into an empty bottle of Corona as “Ando Bien Pedo” starting playing. You had your arm around your cousin, who was equally as drunk, and started singing with him.

“Don’t worry about her. She gets like this with my brother and my other sister all the time. Just make sure she doesn’t hit herself on the sink again.” Your sister whispered into his ear. “Also, she might wake up in the morning drinking water like she hasn’t drank any in years so I would stop at a store and stock up on Gatorade if I were you.”

Dabi nodded as he watched you dancing in a circle with your family who was already drunk out of their mind. He could tell that you wanted to keep drinking but your mom was already cutting you off.

“Cake, oh my god, Dabi! I want cake!” You begged as he looked at your only sober sister for help. “No, you’ve had enough. Go get some water before you throw up all over this table.”

You gave your sister a look before sauntering yourself over to the table where the left over cake was. “What did she say? No cake!” Dabi exclaimed as he grabbed your hand and led you back to the table.

“I think we should head home before you think of drinking anymore.” Dabi said as he watched a bit of your family starting to leave. “No! I don’t want too!” You exclaimed. “I don’t care.” He whispered into your ear. “We’re heading out. I know if I don’t get her home, I’ll be playing doctor tomorrow morning.” Dabi told your sister.

She nodded as she helped Dabi buckle you into the car. You were still in the seat dancing to the music that was playing inside of the venue. Dabi said a quick goodbye to all of your family members before making sure to take a bucket on his way out and putting it on your lap.

“If you feel the need to throw up, throw up into this bucket.” Dabi instructed as you hugged the bucket and put your head on the car window.

The ride back home was spent with you babbling about nonsense. As soon as you stepped inside of your apartment, Dabi helped you out of your dress and basically leaving you in your undergarments. If he was taking care of you all night, he was going to indulge himself at least a little bit.

He put the bucket on your side of the bed as he took off his clothes and slipped in next to you. “I love you!” You sang into Dabi’s ears. Dabi laughed as he gave you a kiss. “I love you too, now go to sleep.” Dabi stated.

You giggled as you shut your eyes and before he knew you, you were passed out. Overall, Dabi knew he got the approval of those he needed too. Even though you weren’t looking for your family to approve of him, it comforted him knowing that your family accepted him.

ALITA

#boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagine #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero imagine #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagine #mha #mha imagine #mha x reader #bnha #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #dabi imagine #Dabi #dabi x reader

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andersunmenschlich · 4 years

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Episode 17: The Boneturner’s Tale

Ah, finally. It’s about time I got another episode listened to. Amazing how long that takes; so much to do. And still I have no bookcases. Oh well. This one’s the statement of a Sebastian Adekoya, and apparently it has something to do with books. I am pleased.

...Oh, I am very pleased.

It seems to me that Sebastian Adekoya understands books very well. I’ve said before (and will doubtless say again) that all books are books of magic. Just as this episode’s statement-giver says, opening a book allows you to enter the mind of someone who may well be long dead. In such cases, reading is a form of necromancy.

To read a book is to change your mind: to place thoughts there that are not your own, to see things you’ve never seen, walk through worlds you’ve never been to, that no longer exist or don’t exist yet, or that never will.

To write is to preserve a fraction of your own mind, freezing it in symbols which wait to be decoded by the incautious.

You don’t know what thoughts you’re inviting to live inside your mind when you settle down to decipher a lexical set. You can’t know what they’ll do to you, nor you to them (nor what they, changed, may do to you again). The promises in the titles, in the genres and the labels, can only tell you so much. What does this set of words contain? Have you even understood what is meant by the description—are you sure you know what it means when an old story is called a “romance,” or when a newer one is labeled “wuxia”?

Some thoughts won’t be able to live in your mind. Some you’ll never be able to get rid of. Personalities and people, scenes and scenarios, images and ideas... foreign things birthed in the minds of others; decode the twisting lines on the page before you, and they’ll spring to life in your mind as powerful as the day they were written.

Words can be wonderful—and dangerous.

Books are beautiful—and bewitching.

You should never read unwarily, because when you read you’re bringing alien thoughts to life in your mind, and you may not want them to make a home there....

Sebastian Adekoya says he used to work at Chiswick Library. As he describes it, it’s a local library very like the one I grew up with: cheaply furnished, full of battered paperbacks, open-feeling, and frequented by friendly, quietly chatting patrons. Probably the occasional Children’s Corner with a librarian who reads aloud well and a much-loved copy of, say, Matilda or Owl at Home, depending on the audience.

Our statement-giver says it was 1996 when the thing happened.

He’d been working for the library about a year at that point, and knew that the library bought its books new, when it bought them (though he didn’t know where they bought them from).

A patron returned five books at the front desk. One of them, he’d never seen before. It was not, however, new. “The barcode and ISBN,” Sebastian says, “both registered as being that of Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh, but the book itself was an almost featureless black paperback, with a title on the front in faded white serif font: The Bone Turner’s Tale.”

Confused, he calls the librarian (Ruth Weaver) over to look at it.

She also didn’t remember ever seeing it before, but it had the appropriate markings for a book from Chiswick Library, and the stamps on the lending label indicated it’d been in their collection for several years.

Weaver shrugs and says not to worry about it: they’ll get it put on the system properly. Sebastian, however, is bothered. So he does a bit of quick research.

The man who brought the book in, one Michael Crew, apparently only checked out four books, not five. Our statement-giver thinks maybe he’s a self-published author trying to get his book into the local library, and suggests this possibility to the librarian, who laughs and says that’s probably it—though why anyone would bother trying to get a book onto the shelves of this particular local library was beyond her.

Sebastian Adekoya notes that the book looked worn, “like it had seen decades of being read, with a line creased down the spine and one half of the cover faded from the sun. Nor, from what I could see, did it list any author at all.”

At this point, our fascinating book story is interrupted by the arrival of another character.

According to our statement-giver, this Jared Hopworth is, “not to put too fine a point on it, thick as mud.” He was also Sebastian’s best friend when the two of them were kids: inseparable. Hm. I must admit, I never had (nor wanted) anyone like that in my life. I suppose there was that other preacher’s oldest kid, from the church in the next church region over (it’s not called a diocese when you’re Protestant, but the effect’s much the same...). We were mostly friends in name, though, and never spent much time together.

In any case, Sebastian went to college and Jared hit the back alleys. For some reason, it seems, Jared Hopworth saw this as Sebastian Adekoya betraying him by being too smart, not him betraying Sebastian via being an idiot too stupid for college.

I do have to wonder how intelligent our statement-giver actually is, however, given that he apparently decided to just put up with what he describes as “a campaign of petty terror” for the sake of a memory of childhood friendship. Oh, sure, “he was always very careful to stop before he did anything that might get the police involved—but let’s be honest with ourselves, shall we?

You should only brush off malicious behavior from others if you’re enjoying it, and want to encourage them to do more.

...And now we get an even larger interruption. Excellent.

I do believe this is the very first time another character has actually broken into the middle of a recording. I don’t like it. Who is this Miss Herne, and why is her complaint so important that my story has to be disrupted?

I don’t even remember ever hearing her name before. I don’t know her, I don’t care about her—weren’t we in the middle of something?

...Oh, no, wait... I do remember her.

Naomi Herne, the annoying woman who doesn’t know how to appreciate a misty moonlit graveyard meadow. The one with the unusual attachment to that large piece of headstone. What’s she complaining about? I don’t remember that she had anything to complain about besides her own unfortunate lack of, as the children say, “chill.”

Well, whatever the case, it seems Jonathan Sims considers Naomi Herne’s statement a waste of time. It wasn’t, it was beautiful—but never mind. The interrupting messenger, someone named Elias (which rings a faint bell), tells the head archivist that the Lucas family gives the Magnus Institute financial support, so he shouldn’t annoy anyone connected with them if he can help it. Does Naomi Herne count as “connected to the Lucas family”? Her Lucas husband’s dead. She doesn’t even have the name. No children that I’ve heard of. No reason she should be connected that I can see. And they didn’t seem terribly interested in a connection at the funeral, did they? I think Mr. Sims can antagonize her all he wants without damaging future Lucas donations, frankly.

Our interrupter is also looking for Martin (the supposedly-but-not-apparently incompetent archival assistant). Mr. Sims says Martin is off sick with stomach problems this week, and Elias leaves.

...Wait.

Elias Bouchard? Jonathan Sims’ boss? Why is he running messages down to the archives? This makes even less sense than Rosie the receptionist being in charge of upkeep on recording equipment. Just how much disbelief is supposed to be suspended here? I’m asking seriously, because the Magnus Institute seems like a very badly put together organization if you think about it too much. Or at all.

Well. Elias Bouchard leaves, Mr. Sims expresses “blessed relief” at the fact of Martin’s being sick and thus not at work, and we return to the statement.

...Our main character really dislikes this particular assistant, and for (it would seem) no good reason. Is there history there? Did Martin do something especially bad to Mr. Sims at some point in the past?

Or is it just some kind of negative bias, like thinking a man will be no good with children because he’s a man, or that a woman will suck at math, or that a Hispanic cleaner will steal your jewelry because they’re Hispanic (you dropped your necklace down the back of the dresser, Grandma—I am never going to forget that unjust accusation, nor how plain you made it that your suspicion was based entirely on race).

In any case: back to the library.

Sebastian Adekoya notes that it’s typically a bad thing when Jared Hopworth turns up at the library, because it means Jared’s “bored enough to seek me out for harassment.”

This is apparently exactly what Mr. Hopworth has in mind, because he waits for Weaver to go back to her office and close the door, then knocks the returns cart over, spilling books everywhere. Which is a horrible thing to do. I can’t stand seeing books mistreated this way, I’d rather watch someone bash innocent children around (which, I realize, isn’t saying much given I’m the one talking—but still).

Despite obviously having done it on purpose, he smiles and apologizes.

I’m familiar with this particular method of annoying people. Deliberately doing something terrible, then acting as though it was accidental? Yes, indeed.

People have trouble dealing with this. You did a bad thing. You clearly meant to do the bad thing. This should give them the right to demand retribution. But then, instead of continuing in the “person who does bad things deliberately” role, you switch to “friendly mistake-maker,” and it throws them.

Really they shouldn’t give you the benefit of the doubt.

There’s no doubt!

Sebastian Adekoya bends down to pick the books up, and as anyone with a capacity for noticing patterns of behavior could have predicted, Jared Hopworth hits him in the back of the head with a book.

Which is, again, a terrible thing to do to a book. Human skulls are, on average, much sturdier than the covers of books.

This book, however, may be capable of taking care of itself.

“Behind me, Jared stood holding the book I had put aside—The Bone Turner’s Tale—and had apparently picked it up to hit me with. But rather than offering me a fake apology, or further violence, instead his eyes were locked on the book. We stood there in silence for a few seconds, until he said something about needing something new to read, turned around, and walked off.”

According to our statement-giver, Jared Hopworth isn’t much of a reader, “and the look in his eyes when he left had something in it not entirely unlike fear.”

Yes, I think this work might be able to handle that book-abusing felon just fine.

On his way home after leaving the library that night, Mr. Adekoya passes Mr. Hopworth’s house. Apparently they’re both living in the same houses they occupied as children, which is rather unfortunate for Sebastian, don’t you think? It’s late September, which is a nicely spooky time of year, and something’s moving in the pool of orange light under a streetlamp.

It’s a rat. A large white rat that looks as though it was once a pet. Something’s wrong with the back half of it, and its head seems to be turned around farther than it should be as it drags itself along by its front paws.

Which is also deliciously spooky.

Sebastian Adekoya stares at it until it drags itself off into the darkness and disappears from sight.

He notes that the lights were off in Jared Hopworth’s house. As someone who sleeps days, works nights, and routinely doesn’t turn the lights on as I go about my nightly affairs, I don’t find this particularly indicative of a lack of activity—but that’s me. I suppose most people, when their lights are shut off, don’t make and eat food, read books, do jigsaw puzzles, etc. Ah, how limiting it must be to have such weak senses.

Jared Hopworth more or less vanishes from the scene for a while. Weeks go by without him turning up to torment Sebastian Adekoya, who begins to feel worried. Almost a month with no torment? Surely something must be wrong!

...Hmm. Do you suppose our statement-giver might be just mildly masochistic?

Whatever the case, he’s not eager enough for unpleasantness to actually go to Mr. Hopworth’s house and check on him, so the Jaredless time rolls by until late October, when Jared’s mother turns up at the library with her arm in a sling, wearing an unnecessarily bulky coat and a hateful expression, carrying a familiar black-bound paperback book, which she flings onto the floor at our statement-giver’s feet before turning to leave.

Sebastian Adekoya asks after the health of her son, which arrests her departure and provokes a bit of an outburst: “She spun back and started to swear violently at me, told me I had no business with her son and that I—and my books—were to stay away from him.” This outburst also gives Sebastian a bit more time to inspect the arm... which reminds me markedly of the rat.

“As she spoke, I couldn’t look away from her arm and the odd ways it twisted as she gestured. How her fingers seemed to bend the wrong way.”

Well, well, well.

Before leaving, Mrs. Hopworth spits at Mr. Adekoya—and I find it interesting that, while she clearly has no problem throwing the book onto the floor like it’s a live animal and she wants to smash its skull, she avoids spitting on it.

Despite the absence of spittle, our statement-giver decides to employ paper handkerchieves in picking the book up, rather than touch it with his bare hands.

He sticks it in the book returns cart, locks up the library, and goes home.

It rains heavily that night and Sebastian Adekoya, in his converted attic bedroom, can’t sleep. He’s worrying about the book. He’s worrying that perhaps he shouldn’t have just left it there, unsupervised, as it were. “What if Ruth came in earlier than I did tomorrow and took it? What would happen to her?”

Frankly, that strikes me as an interesting experiment. What would happen to Weaver? Come to that, what happened to Hopworth? Was the idiot eaten by the bone book? Twisted beyond telling? Possessed, perhaps?

I’d quite like to know.

“Should I have destroyed it?” Sebastian Adekoya asks himself.

I’m not sure this question would even occur to me. “Should,” after all, presupposes some kind of ideal state for things to be in.

Should you do thus-and-such a thing? It’s an incomplete sentence. You’ve left off your goal. “In order to [X], should I [Y]?” That is a complete sentence. So—should Sebastian Adekoya destroy The Bone Turner’s Tale? It depends on what his goal is. If he wants to study it, then no: he definitely shouldn’t. If he wants to stop it from doing what it seems to be doing, then yes: he probably should.

Completely failing to define his goal for an ideal state of things RE: The Bone Turner’s Tale, Sebastian discards the idea of destruction on the grounds that he wasn’t sure he had it in him to destroy a book—”even one with such a strangeness to it.”

Well now. Thank you, Mr. Adekoya, for letting us know that you consider strangeness a helpful push towards destruction.

...Oh, I’m not really surprised. I do have a passing acquaintance with humanity, after all.

Sebastian Adekoya lies awake in bed until sometime around two in the morning, when he finally gives up and goes to get the book. He gets out of bed, dresses, grabs his gloves and a jacket, and walks twenty minutes to the library in the rain, where he unlocks the door, goes in, deactivates the alarm, and begins turning on as many lights as possible without making it too obvious that there’s someone in the building.

He tells us that part of him wanted to keep the library in its nearly pitch-black state, but he turned on lights anyway. I’m guessing this is due to his weak eyes, since he says “I had to half-feel my way through the foyer and into the library proper.” [with a complete lack of sympathy] Must be rough.

He also uses a flashlight—but not before he puts his bare hand on the book returns cart, catching his balance, and his fingers come away wet.

The books, it would seem, are all bleeding.

...That is very annoying. I think I would be very nearly angry. Blood-soaked books!? Have you any idea how difficult that is to clean? Frankly, it’s impossible! This had better be the type of supernatural blood that vanishes without a trace.

The Bone Turner’s Tale, meanwhile, is as dry as... well... a bone.

Sebastian Adekoya puts his gloves back on (which means, unless he washed his hands without telling us or this is the type of supernatural blood that vanishes without a trace, that the inside of at least one of those thick gloves is going to need some rather tricky cleaning done), and picks up The Bone Turner’s Tale. He puts it on the desk and—clumsily, because of the thick gloves—begins reading.

He doesn’t begin at the beginning, just opens it randomly, which I suppose is understandable given the current unwieldiness of his fingers, but still. I can’t really approve.

“It was written in prose, and certainly seemed to be a story of some kind. The part I read dealt with an unnamed man, at various points referred to as the Boneturner, the Bonesmith or just the Turner, watching an assembled group of people as they made their way into a small village.

“It’s unclear from what I read whether he is traveling with them, or simply following them, but I remember being unsettled by the details he observed in them: the way the parson would move his hand over his mouth whenever he stared too long at the nuns or how the cook looked at the meat he prepared with the same eyes that looked at the pardoner. It was only at that point that I realized the book was describing the pilgrims from The Canterbury Tales.”

You know, I’ve never read The Canterbury Tales.

“Now, this certainly wasn’t some lost section of a Chaucer classic,” our statement-giver tells us. “It was written in modern English, with none of the archaic spelling or pronunciation of the original, and besides that the writing itself was of questionable quality. There was something compelling about it, though.”

“I flicked ahead a few pages, and found the Bonesmith had apparently crept up to the miller while he slept. It described him silently reaching inside him, and… it’s a bit hazy. All I remember clearly is the line ‘and from his rib a flute to play that merry tune of marrow took’. And as for the rest, I don’t recall in detail, but I know that I almost threw up, and that the miller did not survive. This was on page sixteen, and it was a thick book.”

Funny, since he described it as a small paperback earlier. Hmm. Something like my paperback copy of Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, maybe? 6.75″ x 4.25″, over 1000 pages long—a veritable brick of a book. Hmm. Could be.

It also gives a bit of a hint as to what might have happened to the rat (and the mother... and possibly the son).

I like it.

Our statement-giver is notably less pleased, and turns to the frontispiece to see if he can figure out where this book came from. Apparently he’s given up on the idea that Michael Crew wrote and self-published it? I don’t see that that’s entirely out of the question at this point. I mean—what, after all, do we really know about Michael Crew?

Peeling off the Chiswick Library label, Sebastian Adekoya discovers another library label beneath.

This label is not in excellent shape. According to our statement-giver, it says something like “Library of Gergensburg” (or “Jürgenleit,” or “Jurgenlicht”), which suggests that the last library wasn’t in Britain.

I wonder whether it was still written in English there?

Giving credence to my tentative hypothesis regarding masochism, Sebastian Adekoya prepares to return to reading the book that nearly made him throw up.

At this point, however, Jared Hopworth breaks in. Literally. Through a window. Sebastian Adekoya recognizes Jared via voice, which is one of the only ways I ever manage to recognize anyone. (Why, yes: I am indeed borderline prosopagnosic. I blame humanity’s insistence on all looking basically identical. Two eyes, two ears, one nose, one mouth—and all in the same arrangement, at that. How, I ask you, is anyone supposed to tell any of you apart?)

As far as visuals go: Jared has apparently decided to dress himself in baggy pants and a thick coat with a face-concealing hood. This strikes me as a very reasonable way to dress, particularly if both coat and pants come well-supplied with those deep and useful pockets I take so much for granted in my clothing.

Sebastian says that Jared is now “longer” than he used to be, whatever that means.

If he meant “taller,” I’d expect him to say “taller.” But “longer”? I’m not entirely certain.... Does he mean to say that Jared has, perhaps, been a bit stretched? That would seem to fit with the pointyness of his fingers.

His bones, I’d say, are longer than they once were.

Jared Hopworth is also “standing at a strange angle, as though his legs were too stiff to use.” That’s interesting.

If I were to guess (which I’m about to), I’d say that reading this book gives people the ability to manipulate bone inside living bodies. Now, I might hypothesize that the book simply warps things all on its own... but that rat really did look like an experiment, and Jared coming for the book strikes me as an “I haven’t mastered this skill yet, I need more practice, give me the manual” type of thing.

Sebastian Adekoya, declining to give Jared Hopworth the book despite the obvious tidiness of giving a strange thing to a strange thing, decides to punch Jared Hopworth right in the solar plexus.

Whereupon Jared bites Sebastian with, not his teeth, but his ribcage.

“...I felt his flesh give way and almost retract, drawing me in close. And then I felt his ribs shift, shut tight around my hand, as though his ribcage were trying to bite me. They were sharper than I would have thought possible, and at last, this was what actually started me screaming.”

Now, if that isn’t just perfect for late October, I don’t know what is.

Sebastian drops The Bone Turner’s Tale. Jared grabs it and runs off. Sebastian starts chasing him, but....

“I started to chase after him, until I saw how he was moving. How many limbs he had. He had… added some extras. That was the moment it finally all got too much for me; I stopped running. It wasn’t my book, it wasn’t my responsibility and I had no idea what I was dealing with, so I didn’t. I just stood there in a daze and watched the thing that was once Jared disappear out into the rain. I never saw him again.”

Uh.

Well, that’s probably all for the best so far as Sebastian Adekoya’s concerned, but does he really think things are going to stay that way? Jared Hopworth likes bullying him; I somehow doubt that gaining new powers will have changed that.

Our statement-giver, I think, is just as doomed as... huh. As pretty much all of the others seem to have been, come to think of it.

Somebody heard Mr. Adekoya screaming, it seems, and called the police. They turn up to receive the best lie Sebastian Adekoya can come up with on the spur of the moment, which involves falling asleep at his desk and being awoken by an attempted robbery. He can’t remember how he explained the bloody books, which seems to me like a thing that would take some explaining.

Hmm. I wonder how many strange things the police see in the Magnus Archives universe. Maybe Sebastian didn’t explain the books at all—perhaps there are some things the police in this universe just... leave alone.

The blood, apparently, was not the disappearing type. Mr. Adekoya says “it took weeks to get out,” and I assume he means to imply “out of the carpet,” because let’s face it: blood-soaked books don’t clean. Those books had to be thrown away and we all know it.

...I wonder what the blood type was.

Jonathan Sims describes himself as “deeply unhappy” about this statement.

“I’ve barely scratched the surface of the archives, and have already uncovered evidence of two separate surviving books from Jürgen Leitner’s library. Until he mentioned that, I was tempted to dismiss much of it out of hand, but as it stands now I believe every word.”

So interesting, the things he believes and doesn’t believe. I’m becoming more and more convinced that he stubbornly denies things until evidence actually forces him to believe—which might seem like a good way to remain sane in a universe like this one, but consider: is the denial of reality sanity? I don’t see that it’s even safety, since not knowing about a thing (germs, say) has never prevented the thing from killing you.

An interesting side note: Mr. Sims’ boss, Elias Bouchard, apparently has a very hands-off attitude when it comes to the supernatural.

“Record and study, not interfere or contain.”

Personally, I think that study and interference aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive... but that’s me. In any case, I do think Sebastian Adekoya’s either very dense, or that library label was very oddly written. Two separate words with two separate capitals (Jürgen Leitner) seem difficult to confuse for a single word! “Jürgenleit”? Really? Come, now.

Tim and Sasha, two of the three amazingly competent archival assistants, have done research which proves that yes, Jared Hopworth had a warrant out for breaking and entering and assault, but no, nobody found him and the case was dropped.

And aha!

About seven years after giving this statement, Sebastian Adekoya was found dead in the middle of the road, body so messed up they figured it had to be a hit-and-run.

Even though there were no signs of crushing or trauma marks.

That’s lovely.

I’d like a Leitner.

#The Magnus Archives #episode 17 #commentary #late to the party

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