#he’s latino! because i said so >:)c

[endlessthxxghts]

What You Need

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈6.3k

Summary: You come home from a horribly stressful day at University to everything in your family home a complete mess only for you to take care of. Joel helps you and gives you exactly what you need.

Warnings: SUUUPER self indulgent (sorry guys - it makes for a good plot tho, so i’m not all that sorry <3). no use of “y/n”, age gap (22/42), LATINO JOEL MILLER (idc what anyone says, he needs a warning), established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader, pet names (darlin’, sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, etc.), reader “takes care of everyone but who takes care of her” plot, more porn than plot lol, [SMUT 18+ MDNI] daddy kink, sir kink, heavy on the D/s dynamic (reader falls into subspace), cockwarming, unprotected piv (don’t be like these 2 idiots), breeding kink, cum eating, creampie, finger fucking, finger sucking (briefly), choking, hair pulling, brief thoughts about anal, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickeys/marking kink, squirting!, toy use, fluffy ending… i think that’s it?? (dear lord pls forgive me, for i have sinned)  if i missed anything, lmk pls!

Quick lil author’s note (see bottom for extended a/n): In all honesty, I wanna dedicate this (nasty) little one shot to @javierpena-inatacvest because if it wasn’t for our interactions as of late plus reading your “It’s Never Too Late” fic, I never would’ve said fuck it and just start writing with the intention of potentially showing it to the world. Thank you for inspiring me. You’re amazing & I literally love u so so much. You deserve phenomenal head all the love in the world for everything you do <3.

MAIN MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION

It was a long day at university today, as per usual, but something about today completely drained you. 

You went to bed past midnight last night because you were busy finishing up a paper, only to get up at 7am the next morning to spend the next 13 hours juggling between classes, assignments, and studying in your “free” time. By the time you were ready to head back home, you were on your very last thread, begging to snap. You also completely spaced on nourishing your body today, the only thing running through it being water and coffee — lots of coffee. 

That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that the minute you entered your family home, the entire house was an absolute mess, your pets weren’t given their food yet, and no dinner was made. And just like every other day since you grew into an acceptable height to reach the kitchen stove, you took care of it. All of it. 

You were so grateful to your family for allowing you to stay at home during your undergraduate years. It makes your in-state tuition even cheaper, and you get the comfort of your own bed. You knew not many people could rely on their parents and family like this, so you don’t want to sound selfish when you think about how you really wish you had your own place right about now. 

It’s been an hour and a half since you've been home, and you’re barely finishing up getting the food for your dogs when your phone dings in your back pocket. 

Didn’t text me when you got home, baby. Everything okay?

It was from Joel. The neighbor directly across from you, and a quickly growing family friend of yours. Your heart both saddens at the fact that you forgot your unspoken ritual, but it swells at the way he can read you. 

It all began at a small family party last year. You were 21 at the time, and for some reason you could not take your eyes off of your neighbor — who was 20 years your senior. It was always just shared glances or you bringing baked goods from your stress-baking endeavors, but at that party, there was a good period of time where your entire family went outside to the bonfire in the backyard to drink until their hearts gave out, leaving you with the dishes and a trashed house to clean. Joel noticed this, how much they relied on you. Whether it was coming over for a beer with your brothers or your father, or to fix an appliance for your older sister, they always walked all over you — when you did absolutely everything for them. So, he took matters into his own hands and went inside to help you clean up. 

You insisted he didn’t need to, but you knew he wouldn’t let up. So, there, you two worked, harmoniously, straightening up your home in half the time it would normally take you by yourself. The second you completed the last task, you reached for the remote and plopped yourself on the couch, half expecting Joel to go back outside with your family. Except, he plopped himself on the couch right next to you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, “What are we watchin’, darlin’?” 

“You know you could’ve stayed outside with everyone else, Miller,” you say as you turn your body to him with an eyebrow quirked up. He matches your expression, “Well, where’s the fun in that?” 

You break into a breathy little giggle, satisfied with his comeback, and you turn on the TV. With your family completely occupied outside, it was easy for either of you to make a move. And although Joel had been planning to for the last few months before this party, you took matters into your own hands and lifted his arm closest to you, tucked yourself into his side and pulled his arm back around your body. He looked down at you, smirking at your boldness while your eyes remained fixed on the movie before you. 

The next few hours of the night were filled with secret caresses and stolen kisses, and you have never felt more loved and appreciated in your life. From then on, you’ve been absolutely smitten with him, and he with you. 

Instead of replying, you dial him instead. Not even a third ring goes by before he answers, “Baby.” 

“Oh my god, hi, baby, I’m so sorry. I completely spaced. The minute I got home, the house was a mess, the dogs weren’t fed yet, dinner wasn’t even cooked, and I-”

“Mi amor,” he says with a deep breath, implicitly telling you to take one, “it’s okay, baby. I don’t wanna hear sorry from you. I’m sorry everythin’ is a mess, baby. Can I help? Need me to come over?”

Your rapid heart rate immediately starts to slow at how calming, ready and willing he is to give you anything you need. Your family would go absolutely insane if Joel just showed up right now with the sole intention of helping you take care of the home and yourself, but you don’t mention that. “No, baby, I promise I’m okay. I just need to relax. I need-” you pause for a moment to take another breath because you feel your body going panicky again. “I need…honestly, I just need you.” 

After the shitty day you’ve had today, having to take control of every single thing, honestly all you really want, and need, right now is for your control to be taken away. You don’t want to think, you don’t want to decide, and you don’t even want to figure out your dinner even though you haven’t eaten all day. 

He pauses for a moment, hearing the slight whine at your last statement. And just like that, Joel is at your rescue. “You need me, huh, babygirl?” 

“Mhm, please.” 

“Cross the street, darlin’, right now,” and he hangs up the phone. 

You bolt out of your seat, and sprint straight to the front door, quickly locking it. You think to say something on the Ring camera, letting your family know you’ll be back, but you know they won’t even think twice at your absence. You already cleaned the house and took care of the animals they begged for but don’t care for — why else would they look for you? 

Just in case they do check the cameras, however, you immediately veer to the left side of your driveway into the blind spots of your front door. 

Within seconds, you’re at his door about to knock, but he’s already opening the door, whispering a soft hi followed by your name, and pulling you into a tight embrace. He pulls you away for a second, assessing your face, assessing your needs. He sees your brows pulled together, eyes glossed over, and a pout beginning to form. You don’t need soft and comforting. You need stern, dominating control. You need nothing but pure bliss, and he’s going to give that to you. But first: 

“Safe words. Repeat em’.” 

“Red for hard stop, yellow if I’m starting to get uncomfortable, and green to keep going.” 

“That’s my girl,” he says and finally pulls you in for that rough, all-consuming kiss you’ve been craving. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and obviously he wins. His hands are roughly sliding down to the underside of your asscheeks, tightly pulling you into his hardening bulge. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, but pause for a moment because he never gave you permission to. He senses that, and pulls back for just a moment. “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me. Go ‘head, baby, touch me.” 

You immediately bring your arms back up to grab ahold of him but too riled up in how he’s making you feel, you don’t notice the huge grumble your empty tummy makes. He pulls both your wrists back from his neck and puts an insufferable amount of space between you two. 

He says your name, filled with both concern and slight anger. “When was the last time you ate?” 

Silence. 

He lets go of your wrist and grabs your chin between his pointer and thumb, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m not askin’ again, baby.”

“Y-yesterday night,” you stumble out. 

“I’m not givin’ you a heavy meal ‘cause that’ll just upset your stomach, but I am fixin’ you somethin’. Go upstairs, change into the clothes on the bed, come back down and position yourself on the ottoman, like I taught ya last week, hm?”

Too enamored by his roughly smooth voice, all you can muster up is a nod. His eyebrow barely shifts, but that’s all a warning you need. “Yes, sir.” 

Padding up into his room, already feeling your insides start to float, you reach the edge of his bed to see a pair of black cheeky boxers, and a thin, fitted black tee. You quickly strip off everything you arrived here in and slip on the garments he gave you. Wasting no time, you head back down in a bee line to the ottoman. 

Like I taught ya last week, hm?

His words echo in your mind as you begin to recall last week’s endeavors. 

You were straddling his lap for a while now, slowly swallowing each other’s moans and making every part of each other’s body ingrained into your memories. Until suddenly he pulls back, eyes dead set with intention. “You trust me, baby?”

“Always, Joel,” you say back with as stern a voice as possible, confused as to why he’d ask such a thing. “Can I teach you somethin’, then, darlin’?”

You pull him into one more kiss before you breathily tell him yes and pull yourself off his lap to stand before him, fully at his disposal. 

He stands up, and without any verbal indications, he’s grabbing onto you and molding your body onto the ottoman in a position that begins to drift you off into subspace. You don’t know if it’s the fact that you're sitting on your knees with your legs tucked under you, or if it’s the slow drag of his hands caressing your inner thighs, pulling them farther apart from each other. Or maybe it’s the way he softly places your hands, palms up, atop of your thighs. Whatever the hell it is, you absolutely fucking love it. 

He feels you melting into every little touch he makes and he notes every little moment you slip further and further into your space. “Doin’ okay, my sweet girl?” he asks, voice dark and sweet. 

All you can pull out of yourself is a pathetic little whine and a head nod. 

“This is position number one. Remember it. We’ll learn more later, but this’ll do just fine for a while, baby.”

And with that, he kisses you ever so softly but with such a dominating, addictive energy that you feel yourself try to push up into him, and immediately he pulls away. 

“Sweet girl, Imma let it slide this time, but you do not move from this position unless given permission. Ya hear?”

You return to your original position and assure him how good you’ll be, “Won’t happen again, daddy, I promise.”

His jaw clenches at the honorific; that’s your number one tell that signifies you’ve completely submitted and fallen into subspace. He had originally planned on giving you what you asked for two days ago — “Please, Joel, I need you to fuck me, hard.” — but seeing you all docile and ready for him just makes him want to absolutely praise you in the most beautiful ways possible. 

So that’s what he did. For hours. An hour of bending you over the ottoman to eat your pussy like a man who had all the time in the world, an hour of fingering orgasm after orgasm out of you while his mouth switched between licking and marking your tits, and a few hours after that just slowly fucking you into his mattress, caressing and loving on every single part of your body he could reach. 

Let’s just say, your family didn’t see you for the rest of that day or the next, and you did not care one fucking bit. 

You shuffle onto the ottoman, your form now perfected after secretly practicing each night to increase your endurance of staying in such a position for however long Joel needed you to. 

You wait for about five more minutes before he comes back with a platter of all of your favorite fruits — strawberries, mangoes, and pineapple — and sits on the cushioned seat right in front of you. He melts at how good you sit for him, immediately disregarding his original plan and wanting you as close to him as possible. 

“My good, beautiful girl,” he says softly, in a way that you’re not sure if it was even meant for you to hear, but you still melt nonetheless. “Come,” he says as he pats his lap while setting the plate off to the table beside him. 

You shoot up like a lightning bolt, too excited at the thought of being able to feel him again, but before you can climb up, he grabs your hips, stopping you for a second. He slides his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly slides them completely off of you, setting them neatly on the ottoman behind you. He slowly reaches for his belt, then slides it off, letting it fall somewhere on the ground. You stand completely still, patiently waiting for whatever he’s going to give you, although your pussy is proving anything but patient. 

He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans and signals for you to come up. “Take me out, cariño.”

You climb up on his thighs, not fully straddling him to give yourself some room to tug his jeans and boxers down enough to pull him free. You pull him free with a small moan escaping your lips, wanting to dart your tongue out and lick his angry tip, but he didn’t give his permission for that. So, you begrudgingly let him go, and wait for what comes next. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he states nonchalantly as if his dick isn’t absolutely begging for you to reach out and grab it. “You’re gonna sit on my cock, keep me nice and warm. Without moving. Only until you’ve eaten all the fruit on this plate will I think about what’s gonna happen next. Got it?”

Your voice trembles, “Y-yes, sir.” 

He nods his head, while bringing his hand up to your mouth, signaling for you to let your drool fall. You scoot closer and lift your hips up while he pumps himself a few times to completely cover himself in your spit. With how much your cunt is dripping, you knew his lewd act was for his benefit and his only. 

The second his tip catches at your entrance, you can’t control the high-pitch whine that falls from your mouth, and he can’t stop himself from gripping your hips with a bruising force in an attempt to keep from mercilessly pounding up into you right here. 

“So f-fucking full,” you breath out as you sink lower and lower, to which he nearly growls with a strained, “So fucking tight.”

You finally bottom out, and you both take a moment to breathe and settle any impulsive thoughts of forgetting the purpose of tonight’s scene. You shift a little to adjust to settle your legs more comfortably at his sides, while he leans over to bring your plate of fruit closer. Both your actions together make you hiss in desperation.

“Color, baby?”

“Green, sir, green,” you promise him.

He smiles, genuine and bright, before his face goes dark and smug again. He picks up a piece of pineapple with his fingers. “Open.”

You lean in and take the sweet fruit from his fingers, making sure to lick any residual of the pineapple’s sweet juices. This goes on until you’ve finished every last piece he cut for you. Towards the last few pieces, your pussy was absolutely drenching his cock with your slick, both your thighs and his soaked. He could feel every pulse and every flutter, and no matter how patient he usually was, something in the air tonight was testing every ounce of his strength. 

He sets the plate aside and licks a mix of fruit juices and your spit clean off his fingers. You watch him, completely entranced by the way his tongue wraps around his thick fingers, and you can’t help but feel such an aching need to throw yourself at him. 

So you do. And to your surprise, he allows it. You pull both his arms to wrap around your middle and you push yourself into him for a searing kiss, whimpering for him to slip you his tongue. He indulges, and you immediately begin grinding your hips down onto his cock. He growls and wraps his arms tighter around you, adding more pressure into your grind, forcing you to break the kiss to regain your breath. “Fuck, baby. Such an impatient little one, aren’t ya?” He rasps out. 

Your hips move faster at his words, trying to will yourself to say something, anything, but you can’t. He notices your effort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby, hm?”

And with that — with the notion that he’ll take care of you with anything you need — you completely fall. “Y- yes,” you moan out, “Da- fuck- daddy’s got me.”

Ah, there she is. Daddy’s girl. His back straightens so he’s towering over you more. He grabs your jaw tightly while you continue to pleasure yourself on his dick, forcing you to hold his stare. “Oh, sweet girl, daddy’s always gonna give ya what ya need. Promise, baby. Now be the good little girl I know you are and cum for me.”

You can feel him meet every movement of your hips, coaxing your high out of you faster than you realize. The wet, squelch your pussy makes every time you suck him in is enough to make him release his load, but he won’t. Not until you’ve came more times than ever before, not until you’re left completely fucked dumb. 

He snakes his hand down to the front, reaching for your clit, using his thumb to make mind-numbing, calculated circles. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back, and he brings his other free hand to the back of your neck to pull you closer into him. He ravishes your neck all over, sucking and biting all your weak spots, your pulse points, only to run his tongue over it in soothing motions, getting even more worked up at the marks that’ll form tomorrow. Then, he rips your shirt right in half, letting it fall to the ground. So much for makin’ you change, he thinks. He brings his mouth lower and lower, sucking one of your nipples in between his teeth, throwing you over the edge.

Your vision goes white, your entire body goes rigid, and your pussy uncontrollably flutters around his dick as he peppers your neck and chest with more kisses while you come back down. 

Your body is now soft and pliant, fully ready for whatever more Joel is going to give you. Your head is still high up in the clouds, and it will be for a while, but he always knows how to take care of you. You feel him slowly lift you off his dick and you hear him groan as he looks down. 

“God fucking damn, doll, look at you all over me. Such a fuckin’ mess.”

Your face heats up immediately, “I- I’m sorry, daddy, I-”

He grabs your jaw again and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He pulls away bringing your bottom lip with him until he lets go, letting it fall back into place, now wet with his spit. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize for that. You made daddy so proud, baby. So much so that you’re gonna do it again for me,” he says as he squeezes your ass cheek. 

You squeak out a gasp and a breathy please. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom with you still wrapped around him like a koala. 

Immediately he throws you on the bed, and before you’re able to scramble up towards the pillows, he’s already pushing you up by the thighs and kneeling between your spread legs. 

He releases one thigh for a quick second and holds his hand out, “Pillow, baby.” It takes your blissed mind one moment to register, but as soon as it does, you don’t waste a second, grabbing the pillow next to your head and eagerly handing it to him. He takes the pillow and taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to lift up. He secures the pillow under your hips then brings both his large hands back to the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up so you’re nearly folded in half, giving him complete access to your dripping heat. 

If there’s one thing about Joel Miller, it’s that he loves to make a fucking mess. You thought your first sensation would be one flat lick up your cunt, but instead you feel warmth. Wet and warm and everywhere, and finally you realize, he let his mouth fill with spit only to absolutely drench you with it. Once he’s satisfied with his mess only then does he dive into you like a man starved. Licking and pushing into your slit while the tip of his nose rubs against your clit has you climaxing in an instant, your back arching and your hips lifting as much as they can with the weight of his hands on your thighs keeping you in place. 

He lets one hand slowly slide off your thigh and up your belly until he reaches one of your tits, switching between grabbing your entire breast and pinching your nipple. He continues to lick at you and circle your clit with his tongue until you’re a complete whining mess from the overstimulation. “Daddy, please,” you moan. 

He lifts his head, eyes as black as ever, “I’ve got you, princess, you can take it.” He reluctantly breaks away from your cunt and kisses his way up your body, taking his time with sloppy, open mouthed kisses near your hip bone and your sternum, knowing those areas drive you crazy the most. He makes sure to bite a little extra hard in some areas on his journey up, knowing you love to admire all the marks and bruises he makes on you. 

He sucks another bruise right underneath your jaw, making you push up into him more, while his hands continue to wander and grasp every part of your body that he can. Finally he reaches your mouth and gives you a sweet, long kiss to your mouth, distracting you enough that you don’t see him reach for the vibrator in the nightstand beside the bed. You feel him slide his hand back down your body, but you still don’t realize the vibrator’s presence until you feel the buzz directly on your clit. 

Out of pure reaction, your hand flies to the nape of his neck and tugs sharply, all while obscenities fall pathetically from your mouth, “Oh- f-fuck, daddy, yes! J-just like that, please, please don’t stop…” The quick-paced, blinding pleasure builds so fast it cuts off your dirty mouth and reduces you down to moans and gasps and whines of daddy, daddy, daddy. 

He slips two fingers into your pussy, sliding in with so much ease with how wet you are from a combination of your cream and his spit, all while he uses his other hand to push the vibrator into your bundle of nerves. 

You don’t know whether it has been one minute or one hour of this, but all you know is that you’ve got sweat lining your forehead, beading down your body, and you absolutely can’t take the buzzing pleasure with the constant come-here motion with his fingers anymore, you have to let go. Although this time, it feels different than the rest of the times Joel has made you cum. This time… this time it feels like- you have to pee? 

Immediately you start to panic and try to break away from his hold, unable to allow yourself to fucking pee all over him. “Daddy, wait! Please stop.. it- it feels different, like I.. I think I’m gonna pee..” you gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts while he continues his torture on your cunt. 

His eyes go wide and it immediately registers for him, “Fuck, baby, don’t worry about that, just let go. Come on, daddy’s got you. You trust me?” 

You hesitate for a moment, but still, you know the answer, “Y-yes, daddy.” 

“Good, my princess. Cum for me, fuckin’ soak me. I told you I wanted another fuckin’ mess,” he demands and fucks you even harder with his fingers and increases the pressure of the vibrator. 

You all but scream, definitely sure the neighbors can hear you, but you don’t give a fuck with the fireworks erupting behind your eyes and all throughout your body. Your body is still convulsing and you’re sure you’ve gone unconscious for a moment, but what brings you back to the Earth is the feeling of a warm, flat tongue licking you all over, cleaning you up. Then another sensation hits you: your bottom half is completely fucking drenched. You muster up all the strength you can to open your eyes and look down to see what’s going on. 

You see your big, broad man licking you up so sweetly, but from his mouth down he is also absolutely soaked, down to the collar of his dark green shirt he was wearing. 

Holy fuck. You fucking squirted. That was new. And with Joel’s reaction to it, you’re definitely sure that’s not gonna be the last time he pulls that out of you. 

He doesn’t realize you’re up again until you’re softly calling his attention back up to you and not your pussy. He makes eye contact with you, and his eyes fucking sparkle. Yeah, there’s no way this was a one time kind of thing. He sits back up on his haunches and strips himself of his shirt. He never pulled his jeans back up from when you used him to get off in the living room, so his dick has been patiently waiting for attention since your last two orgasms. 

He strips himself completely at the bottom half, too, leaving you with a perfect view of his toned chest, softer middle, and bulging arms and shoulders. Your cunt, all used and abused, fucking clenches on nothing at the naked sight of him. Of course, he fucking notices. 

“Oh, my poor baby. She’s just fuckin’ beggin’ to be filled, huh?” His southern drawl always intensifies whenever he gets spurred on like this. And, fuck, if it doesn’t make you fold more than you already do. 

You whine at his words and spread your legs even wider for him to see what’s rightfully his. 

“Just beggin’ to get pumped full of my fuckin’ cum, huh, princess? Is that what she wants? That what my babygirl wants?” 

“Please, daddy! Yes, that’s what I- what I need, daddy… need you ins- fuck- need you inside, daddy,” you ramble out, already fucked stupid but still begging for more. He situates himself on top of you, stopping your begging with a harsh kiss that leaves your already swollen lips throbbing. “Shhh, I’m gonna give you what you need, darlin’,” and he kisses you one more time as he begins to notch his tip at your entrance. 

He hooks his arm underneath your knee, hiking your one leg up higher to open you completely. You feel him start to push in deeper, and neither of you can help the initial gasp of how good it feels to be consumed by one another. He leans down again to kiss you, unable to get enough of your lips on his, and you bring your hand back up to the back of his head, keeping him close to you, feeling the exact same way. 

He completely bottoms out into you then, his breathing labored and you, a whimpering mess. No matter how many times you two have fucked, his sheer size always makes you feel like it’s the first time. He stays still to let you get used to the feeling again. You both lay there for a few minutes, kissing and consuming each other’s breaths and moans while he gives you rhythmic little grinds to stimulate your clit. Your pussy is sobbing at this point, enough wetness has accumulated that he’s able to slide right out until just the tip is in you and he pushes right back in, hard. 

He fucks you hard, maintaining this rhythm for a while, completely consumed by the way you wrap around him so perfectly. What started off as one leg hiked up around him turned into a complete mating press, giving you the maximum sensation of his length and girth pumping in and out of you. He always gets so foul-mouthed whenever you two end up in this position, not that you’d ever complain because you love hearing that rough, sexy Southern drawl utter absolute filth that only your ears will ever get to hear. 

“Fuck, darlin’, it’s like she was fuckin’ made for me. Wrapped around my cock, so fucking tight and warm. I could spend fuckin’ forever here wrapped up in your tight fuckin’ cunt,” he groans. 

“All for you, daddy, always,” you respond, purposefully squeezing your pussy tight in time with your words. That drives him absolutely fucking crazy that he pulls his arm upwards in between your legs that are resting on his torso and brings his hand up to wrap around your throat. “Say it again,” he growls, “tell me who the fuck this pussy belongs to, baby.” He squeezes the sides of your neck tighter, creating an even lighter sensation in your head coupled with the submissive daze you’ve been in since you got here. 

“F-fuck, d-daddy- shit,” you can’t focus on anything but the way he feels wrapped around your neck while balls deep inside of you. 

“Darlin’ girl,” he warns, “don’t make me repeat myself.”

You sob out, willing your body to respond to him, willing your body to obey, “Th- this pussy belongs t- to-“ you take a breath, “to you, daddy, only you. Forever.” 

He releases your throat and pulls your legs down from the mating press, wrapping them around his waist instead. He places one hand at the back of your head and the other on the headboard, then kisses you furiously before breaking away, “God damn f-fuckin’ right, princess. All fuckin’ mine to do whatever I fuckin’ want.” And with that, he’s slamming into you, his hand on the headboard in a (wasted) attempt to save the wall from the constant banging. 

“Touch that pretty little clit, princess,” he breathes out, chasing his own release now with the sole intention of marking you with his seed. One hand still on his neck, the other snakes down to rub your clit in fast, messy circles, your body begging to cum for a fourth time tonight. “Daddy,” you whine out again, the honorific clearly being your only vocabulary for tonight. 

“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, “Cum for me, mama, and I’ll fill you up right fuckin’ now,” he sucks on your bottom lip, “You want that, baby? To be pumped full of me?” He knows your answer, yet he still asks anyway knowing how much his words affect you. 

“Please, God, yes, fill me up… I need your cum so fucking badly, I need to feel you, please,” you beg, only spurring him on more. 

With both of your mouths spilling such dirty words, his lips anywhere they can reach with the combination of you playing with your clit and him pounding into you, your body enters the astral plane yet again for the fourth time tonight. Though, this time, you force your body to come back down, so you can feel his warmth spill into you. 

It only takes but a few more thrusts after you climax for him to follow suit, roaring out as hot, thick ropes of cum spill into you, overflowing and dripping out of your sore cunt. He slowly pulls out, labored breathing, sits back up and just watches. Watches as your pussy clenches to keep him locked inside of you, watches as his load drips down your folds over your tight, little asshole. Another day, he thinks to himself with a smirk. 

He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until his fingers are engrossed in the thick combination of your releases. You moan out at the sensitivity of your pussy, but Joel doesn’t care. He slips his middle and ring finger in, feeling just how much he filled you up. And before you know it, he’s pumping in and out of you yet again, his eyes completely focused on your glistening sex, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you fluttering for another fucking release. 

“Ahh,” you hiss, not knowing whether you want him to stop or keep going. He uses his other hand to rub on your clit. Fuck. Yeah, okay, you want him to keep going. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum again,” you say as you scramble to get ahold of the bedsheets. 

Joel’s gaze breaks away from your cunt to look at you, he smirks like the devil, “Oh, yeah, honey? Gonna give me another one? Come on, baby, I know you have it in you,” he slips a third finger inside. You whine at the stretch. “One more mess, baby, and then I’ll take care of you, I gotcha,” he says for comfort. 

You’re nearing the point where you guys usually begin to transition into aftercare, and he knows. He always knows. But he also knows that today you need a little extra push, so he gives it to you. 

The thrusts of his fingers don’t come to a stop, but they exponentially slow. “Give me a color, mi amor,” he softly encourages. Even with your erratic breathing, you’re able to force out, “Oh my god, daddy, green, green, green, please go faster, just like before, please-” 

He quickly leans forward and stops your blabbering with a chaste kiss and chuckles when he pulls back, “My god, I love you so much, princess.” Then his fingers pick back up to the speed you were so desperately loving before, his and your cum leaking out all over the inside of your thighs. 

“Fuck, daddy, I love you so fucking much, fuck, thank you, thank you,” you cry out. A few more pumps and a few more circles to your clit and you’re cumming for the fifth (and final) time tonight. Joel groans at the way you finish on his fingers, and it’s his mouth that blabbers out this time.

“Shit, baby, yes, soak my fuckin’ fingers, let me feel you, fuck-” He’s so enthralled at the sight before him, he doesn’t hear you pleading for him to stop pushing in and out until the honorific fades, “Baby, baby, baby,” you frantically breathe. 

He makes eye contact with you again and realizes how caught up he was in you. “Oh, darlin’, shit, I’m sorry, mi amor. What’s your color, baby? Fuck, I’m sorry-” 

It’s you this time who forces your entire wobbly body to push up and meet him in a bruising kiss. “Stop, daddy,” you say with a lilt in your tone, signaling to Joel that you’re back from subspace. You smirk, “My color is green, cowboy, but I really need you to run me a warm bath now because I can’t move a single muscle with how you had me, baby,” and pull him in once more for another kiss. 

His smugness returns and he pushes you back down on his bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses, forcing sweet out-of-breath giggles from you. “That, I can do, baby. May I join you?”

Your face completely softens, your stresses and worries from the last 24 hours completely nonexistent. “I’d be mad if you didn’t, Miller.” 

The next hour and a half — or until the bath water becomes tepid — is spent with him cherishing your body, washing you with your lavender, oat milk body wash you love so much, ultimately just helping you softly come down from your oxytocin high. 

You’ve never felt more loved, appreciated, or taken care of in your life. He always makes sure your come down is smooth and unnoticeable as you fall from a blissed state of mind to one of pure love and adoration. As long as you have him in your life, you truly believe you have all of what you need. 

As he’s drying your body up and slipping you into one of his t-shirts, your stomach growls… loudly. 

“Darlin’...” 

You pull away from his grasp, jokingly rolling your eyes while smirking, “Yeah, yeah, Miller. Come on. Gotta fill me up again, don’tcha, cowboy?” 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out followed by your name, “Tryna put me in an early fuckin’ grave or what?”

Author’s note - extended: Hi guys! I birthed this little one shot on a Friday night while sippin’ on a glass of whiskey and stressing about the stressful entire week I just had. This isn’t my first time writing, in general, but this is my first time writing with the intention of truly producing a story out of it.. this is also my first story I’m posting, so I’m very nervous. Even if just one other person reads this and enjoys it, that’s all that matters to me <3 I also wanna give a quick thank you to my bestie, who’s an AVID smut reader, for proofreading this. She said, and I quote, “gotta change my panties” and “she’s growling” after reading this LMAOO. So, thank you for that, bestie. I love you with my whole heart.

As with any fic, reblog and comments are very much appreciated!! All feedback is appreciated, too!!! Please do let me know how you liked this, and if there's anything specific I could work to improve, I'd love to know! I hope I did okay for my first actual attempt at smut.

Much love to everyone! <3

.

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #pedrohub #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro pascal smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou smut #smut #Joel miller fluff #Joel miller one shot #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #pedrostories #endless thoughts fics

[chachued]

━━ SPANISH TUTOR | 1610!MILES MORALES

Miles stood in his doorway, confused yet curious as to why you, of all people, had been sitting in his room with his Spanish textbook.

↳ 1610!miles morales x fem!reader

W/C:

CONTENTS: enemies to lovers (or more accurately, academic rivals to lovers), a lot of banter, fluff, half proofread!!

A/N: if anyone has any idea how to make an aesthetically pleasing layout for tumblr posts, please PLEASE dm me!!! made the last few parts in the middle of econ class, so im sorry if it's not the best!!

“You?” Miles dropped his bag on the floor.

“Yeah,” you smiled with a cheap, putrid grin spewing across your face. “Me.”

Miles groaned as his head fell back. “I don’t need this right now, I need to—“

Before he could say anything he’d deeply regret, he stopped himself and just stared at you. His tongue was in a twist, having absolutely no words to say.

You — The one he hates, the one whom él pensaba que era hermosa, and the one who had been sitting on the floor of his room.

he thought was beautiful.

He took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Okay, why are you here?”

“Because you’ve been missing your sessions, and thankfully, Ganke let me in just before he left.”

Miles’ face was in complete confusion. His nose was wrinkled, his mouth agape, and his eyebrows were furrowed. It was the whole package for goodness sake.

“Okay— Okay! Let’s just…” He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. His exhale was ragged, and it was almost like you could tell he was enraged. “Why are you here?”

“I just said so.”

“Nah, you didn’t.”

“You were missing sessions.”

“I don’t even know what you’re on about,” he yelled, covering his face with his palms.

Honestly, Miles wanted to jump out his window right about now. He could not take any second of your insufferable voice. His hands dragged down from his eyes to his chin — clearly distraught.

His reaction put an off-putting smile on your face. He could not do this anymore.

“Nah, you know what?” Miles took a step back. “I ain’t doing this.”

“Your parents hired me.”

Time slowed down, his eyes were wide, and he lacked the previous bravery to speak. He swiftly admitted defeat, grabbing his bag and walking to you slowly.

Miles was never one to give up so quickly. However, he doesn't have a choice when his family is involved.

You were enjoying this.

You offered a pen, which Miles took lazily.

And there it is — that giggle.

He held his breath as he took in the sound of your laughter. "You sound stupid."

"Says the Latino who is getting tutored in Spanish."

Miles huffed, "I'm only half."

This time, you stifled the giggle. Even though you adore this, you couldn't bear to spend another minute with Miles Morales.

He could tell. Of course, he can.

“Okay, so, what are you having trouble with?” you asked, attempting to not laugh at him.

“You’re not even trying to be professional!”

“I am—“ You took a deep breath, but at last, a snort still sneaked its way out. “—trying.”

Miles furrowed his eyebrows, regretting not kicking you out as soon as he saw you. “No estás intentando, cariña.”

you are not trying, darling.

You ignored his comment, continuing to flip through the pages of his textbook. “Let’s start here.”

Miles bit the cap of his pen while he doodled above the premade questions. “So how come you don’t have any friends?”

You looked up from your phone. “I have a lot.”

Now, it was his turn to laugh.

"What? Is it that hard to believe?"

"Yeah!"

"Oh, come on, I have William, Stacy..."

The cap bites completely stopped. "They barely talk to you — Those are acquaintances."

You shrugged your shoulders, continuing to look down and scroll on your phone. It gave Miles an unusual worry.

The silence was deafening.

"I guess I don't have any friends friends."

That uneasiness worked its way up to Miles' head, coming down to his lips. "Well," he said.

You hummed in response.

"You know I'm your friend, right?"

Almost like a primal instinct, you jolted back. Not sure whether to be thankful, decline, agree, or laugh. There's so many ways to reply, but none of them were right — Some rude, for that matter.

Miles coughed to interrupt your train of thought, probing an answer out of you with just his curious look.

"I didn't know you were my friend."

"Ah, dale, querida! You are since primer uno," he reassured with that big goofy grin.

come on, dear. you are since day one,

"You made an imaginary competition to be better than me."

"Aka since day one, you have made me a better person."

You offered a meek smile, giggling a bit at his attempt to make you feel better. The bright side is it didn't make you feel worse. That's the minimum, according to Miles.

"Friends go to each other's houses, so isn't this what we're doing?"

"I broke in."

"And I forgive you."

Now both of you had lopsided grins. It was embarrassing, but not with him. It could never be embarrassing.

Mostly because you're tutoring a Hispanic Spanish.

Miles teased, "Mi tutora de español."

thank you for reading through it all <3

please take my a/n seriously because i genuinely need it.

#miles molares #miles morales x reader #spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman x reader #atsv #peter parker #spiderman x y/n #miles morales x y/n #marvel #marvel x reader

[punknicodiangelo]

Rick Riordan is a cishet white goyische man. We knew this. But you can see this in his writing, no matter when. Yeah, he's grown, but he didn't grow astronomically.

In this post I'll be talking about how history, women, queer people, and POC are handled in Rick Riordan's YA novels. I'm Jew-ish, very queer, and was socialized as a girl, but I'm white so POC tell me if I overstep or get anything wrong and feel free to add!

Also this is long af, way longer than I intended, so under the cut it goes!

The Pact and Wars

I think I've talked about this before (cannot find the post) but the way history is handled is so racist and antisemitic. Wars are not because of their real reasons, but instead conflict. WWII is made to be because Hades, Zeus, Poisiedon, and their kids had another spat, instead of the fascism and racism that really caused it. The Civil War, instead of being about racism, was made to be about a fight between the romans and greeks. The wars we see in series have no connection to real world events, why couldn't the old ones be the same? It also deminshes the accomplishments of real people. For example, Harriet Tubman is said to be a daughter of Hermes. To me, this says a black disabled woman can't do great things without great blood in a world where that exists

Annabeth

Annabeth is a girl boss, and this would be great, if her writer wasn't a cishet man. Being strong is equated to being mean, physically and verbally. When she thinks Rachel likes Percy, a guy she isn't even dating, she gets pissy at them for even hanging out! She constantly demeans Percy and hits people who anger her, including Percy, and this is treated as cute and quirky. And then her trauma is dismissed and diminished by a boy who went through similar treatment. Sorry Percy also was hurt by who his author is, but it makes things worse with Annabeth's portrayal. Also she once says people don't take her seriously because she's blonde. During HoO. With Piper and Hazel right there

The Hunters

The Hunters of Artemis, in mythology, are a group of women and sometimes men who joined Artemis to escape the deeply misogynistic culture at the time, and there are sapphic undertones to much of their myths! In the books, they're portrayed as man hating, romance hating, and functionally aroace. Hippolytus is completely ignored. Zoë is constantly talking down to Percy without giving him a chance and makes probably the dumbest decision by choosing Bianca for the quest in Titan's Course. Jo and Emmie were kicked out for finding love. I'm aroace. I love aroace rep. I'm overly weary of (cis white) men. But the way the Hunters are written is so similar to how angry anti-SJW youtube saw feminists

Nico

Nico is forcibly outed in one book and in the next gets a boyfriend with literally no personality or relationship with him up to that point. The drawbacks of shadow travel so clearly align with disability. He's also obviously depressed and deeply traumatized. Yet Will gives him no medical autonomy, something we disabled folk have to deal with all the time that's really very ableist. I love Nico, but the way he's portrayed just isn't great

Sadie and Carter

Sadie and Carter are biracial and look wildly different. This is good representation from what I've heard, but not how it's different or some incidental stuff. Carter, the boy, has dark skin and dark, coily hair, while Sadie, the girl, has pale skin, striaght blond hair, and pale eyes. This plays into colorism where darker people are seen as more masculine, as does Carver being the host to the god of war. Sadie is also a young girl who's put into a relationship with a god who kinda bullied her at the start. Carver is also in a relationship with a person who was hostile, but she gets better so I'll let is slide

Leo

Leo is latino, and stereotypical at that. Je is constantly flirting with everyone and looked down upon. As a Leo who is not an astronomical Leo, he deserves better especially when you consider c//leo

Piper

"I'm not like other girls" girl who's hailed as absolutely gorgeous. She was born on a rez that didn't exist at the time which just goes to show the lack of research. Her eyes are kaleidoscope, which is a trait none of her siblings, or her mom, have. She's cut off from her culture enough to not know the significance of feathers but has plenty of memories of her grandfather who lived on the rez. Also, she's a cleptomaniac. I love Piper, I like how she's representation for a person who was cut off from her culture and longs to know it despite living with her bio family because I and a few friends are the same, but Piper is still a stereotype. I also feel like the veganism plays into the whole spiritual nature stereotype, but I'm not sure so don't quote me

Frank

The only confirmed greco-roman demigod without dyslexia is also East Asian. I think the stereotyping is obvious it doesn't help that the only two Asian characters before him, Ethan and Drew, were antagonists. He was infantalized while fat and then had a magic glow up for... no reason, really, but that matters less here. Also he's dating a seventh grader as a tenth grader basically and I'm trying to not spoil stuff but the end of the Tyrant's Tomb is bullshit from a lore perspective imo

Hazel

She's a black girl whose parents both had very dark eyes and hair, yet her eyes are gold and her hair is paler than her skin, and both of those last two are described as looking like foods. Again, she is the age of a 7th grader. See Frank. And this may be the fandom's fault, but it seems she's always either infantalized or adultified from what I've seen

Will

All we know about Will Solace in BoO is that he's attracted to men and a medic son of Apollo. I bet you didn't remember he was at the Battle of Manhattan or that he's counselor because all his siblings died. And that's a lot of kids. Also he calls Nico nicknames he doesn't like. See Nico for further criticism of Will

Alex

Alex is called the adjective form of a slur multiple times. I could talk about how the grammar of that sucks, but *gesturs vaguely.* She gets transphobia from nearly everyone and disowned. I thought fantasy was supposed to be escapist, personally

Other stuff

Samirah is a hijabi, but we see under her scarf at least once and that feels really disrespectful, especially considering how observant she is of other stuff. Only women or close family (brothers, direct descendants, or direct ancestors) can see a hijabi's hair. Even if Magnus, Hearth, and Blitz are like family that usually isn't enough. She should have gotten a regular valkyrie's cloak imo. Some stuff feels off about Hearth but I'm not D/deaf so I'll hold my tongue on that as I'm not sure. Lavinia could use more yiddishisms in her speech and I'm curious to know what sect she was if her rabbi wasn't cool with her being a lesbian, but they do exist so *shrug.* There's probably something I missed with Reyna and Hylla, I feel like there is, but I can't remeber so it just gets an honorary mention

@afrolatinozuko

#rr crit #anti frazel #anti caleo #anti percabeth #anti solangelo

[crippleprophet]

i want to thank you for your post from a few months ago about abandoning the idea that health is good. it's helped me process and unpack just how much the health framework has damaged me (and everyone; you could get multiple phds exploring how the concept of health categorizes and controls bodies!). and those ideas have extended beyond my personal life to my academic and professional writing and my interactions with loved ones - they've reached and impacted a lot of people.

i was a disabled child in a family of career athletes; the health paradigm was deeply engrained at an early age. now that i'm finally shaking those teachings, i've gotten a lot out of reanalyzing ideas i've always framed through a health lens. if it doesn't matter if i "eat healthily," since that's a meaningless concept, then how and why do i choose what i eat? why do i want to stretch regularly, if not because it's healthy and my doctors said it will improve my disability? how does my relationship with substance use change when health is taken out of the equation?

in these questions, i often find there's deeper and more satisfying reasons for my feelings and actions. this process reminds me of my experience with transness, in a way. reconsidering the concepts and assumptions underpinning a framework, deciding the whole framework is useless to you, and exploring what lies beyond it. thank you for opening such a freeing and fascinating door :-)

oh, woah, this absolutely made me cry, i truly can’t express how meaningful this is for me. (as you might know from following my blog lol) i’m homebound & only see two people in person unless i’m at the doctor, so this feeling of connection to other folks in my community is so deeply valuable, i really can’t thank you enough 💓💓

i definitely relate to the sense of rejecting health leading to a changed perspective on, like, everything in my life + prompting more intentional ways of engaging with my choices, routines, etc. following that theme of community, lineage, & ideas that ripple out, i’d love to take the time to mention just a few of the scholars, ancestors, comrades, & friends who have been life-changing for me in this area!

while there is a lot of transformative & vital work within disability studies, there’s still a lot of structural barriers against sick people’s contributions to formal theory + a lot of direct & indirect reinforcement of health as a good thing in the field. so i’ve found in many cases more resonant work in trans studies, mad studies, & postcolonial studies, by people affirming the pathology of their own identities & positions. just a few favorites of mine from within, across, & outside of these fields, in no particular order:

Sandoval-Sánchez, A. 2005. Politicizing abjection: in the manner of a prologue for the articulation of AIDS Latino queer identities. American Literary History. 17(3), pp.542-549.

Fritsch, K. 2013. On the negative possibility of suffering: Adorno, feminist philosophy, and the transfigured crip to come. Disability Studies Quarterly. 33(4).

Barounis, C. 2013. “Why so serious?” Cripping camp performance in Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight. Journal of Literary and Cultural Disability Studies. 7(3), pp.305-320.

Abrams, T. and Adkins, B. 2020. Tragic affirmation: disability beyond optimism and pessimism. Journal of Medical Humanities.

Stryker, S. 1994. My words to Victor Frankenstein above the village of Chamounix: performing transgender rage. GLQ: A Journal of Gay and Lesbian Studies. 1(3), pp.237-254.

Sexton, J. 2011. The social life of social death: on Afro-pessimism and black optimism. InTensions Journal. (5).

these were all immensely profound to me, but this last work, following Fanon, was such a complete & total frame shift for me that i feel the need to include some of it here (emphasis added):

This is precisely what Gordon argues is the value and insight of Fanon: he fully accepts the definition of himself as pathological as it is imposed by a world that knows itself through that imposition, rather than remaining in a reactive stance that insists on the (temporal, moral, etc.) heterogeneity between a self and an imago originating in culture. Though it may appear counterintuitive, or rather because it is counterintuitive, this acceptance or affirmation is active; it is a willing or willingness, in other words, to pay whatever social costs accrue to being black, to inhabiting blackness, to living a black social life under the shadow of social death.

This is not an accommodation to the dictates of the antiblack world. The affirmation of blackness, which is to say an affirmation of pathological being, is a refusal to distance oneself from blackness in a valorization of minor differences that bring one closer to health, to life, or to sociality.

[…] In a world structured by the twin axioms of white superiority and black inferiority, of white existence and black nonexistence, a world structured by a negative categorical imperative— “above all, don’t be black” (Gordon 1997: 63)—in this world, the zero degree of transformation is the turn toward blackness, a turn toward the shame, as it were, that “resides in the idea that ‘I am thought of as less than human’” (Nyong’o 2002: 389). In this we might create a transvaluation of pathology itself, something like an embrace of pathology without pathos.

To speak of black social life and black social death, black social life against black social death, black social life as black social death, black social life in black social death—all of this is to find oneself in the midst of an argument that is also a profound agreement, an agreement that takes shape in (between) meconnaissance and (dis)belief. Black optimism is not the negation of the negation that is afro-pessimism, just as black social life does not negate black social death by inhabiting it and vitalizing it. A living death is as much a death as it is a living.

if you want a pdf of any of these & are unable to find one feel free to hmu (although they will likely come with my annotations lol). this was a major topic of my master’s thesis for my disability studies degree (which was actually about disabled trans people, so i love that you connected this process of rejecting normality to transness in your own experience – i relate to that a lot) & i’m also happy to share that research with anyone who’s interested :)

i also have relevant thoughts & reblogs in my “stay sick” tag here (which i’ll add to this post) & my “embracing abjection” tag here + more broadly on my main.

& just a few of the many folks whose work + lives have shaped mine: @kelpforestdwellers @heavyweightheart @librarycards @crutchbutch @gatheringbones

i would also (always) absolutely love to hear more about your thoughts + writing if you would like to share! thank you again for taking the time to share this with me, i appreciate it more than i can say 💓💓

#asks #stay sick #embracing abjection #afropessimism #disability studies #happy tag #ok to reblog <3

[k1rameki]

YEAHHHHH LONG OVERDUE AGOTI HC POST ‼️‼️ (human + digidevil designs teehee :3)

afro-latino icon, we love to see it,, also vitiligo bc i said so

transmasc agender agoti for the mfing win ‼️‼️‼️‼️ the ceo of being gender non conforming frfr

has autism, adhd, c-ptsd, bipolar disorder and agoraphobia

ARTIST IN EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD >:3 music, drawing, photography, you name it

YOU GUYS ALREADY KNOW I DRAW AGOTI W GLASSES ALL THE TIME,, he didn’t start wearing them until later into his teen years because #insecurities

LOVES GIVING PHYSICAL AFFECTION especially to the people he’s closest to, so hugs and casually resting on someone is a very common thing

HEAVY METAL MUSIC LOVER ‼️‼️ especially interested in j-metal bands like unlucky morpheus (this totally isnt bc unlucky morpheus is my favourite band 😇)

ABSOLUTE GOD AT RHYTHM GAMES. arcade, mobile, you name it, agoti will boss any advanced level because of their quick reflexes and intense practice! they play arcaea, project sekai, taiko no tatsujin, and a bunch more games (his fav project sekai unit is wxs and his fav characters are mizuki, emu, nene and an :3)

when he’s not up all night playing video games agoti can sleep through anything and everything

astronomy spinterest! knows a bunch of random space trivia and has a telescope and a dozen space encyclopaedias in their room :3

if you piss agoti off, he’s gonna get revenge in the pettiest ways possible, for example:

“agoti did you eat my fucking cereal”

“i don’t know what you're talking about :)”

people have often asked the question “could you beat agoti in a fight?” and the answer is 100% NO. not only can this mf use his swords to his advantage but this bro does taekwondo too and you cannot tell me otherwise

bro is incredibly picky with the food that he eats, but will absolutely go ham for sour candy (bonus if it’s peach or cherry flavoured)

EXTREMELY SENSITIVE TO LOUD NOISES. especially fireworks, they will have a meltdown over the constant loud explosion sounds even if the colours are really pretty (that’s totally not me projecting no not at all)

CAT LOVER ‼️‼️ since sol brings a lot of stray cats to the andromeda household, quite a few are under agoti’s care and he names them goofy names and treats them as if they’re his children

has no idea how to express his emotions at all and often times he cries for no particular reason (or so they say, agoti has a bunch of repressed memories and trauma that he doesn’t acknowledge at all)

was and still is a scene kid, and often times enjoys going out dressed head to toe in sparkly accessories and all sorts of elaborate and colourful outfits

despite being evil as hell sometimes, agoti is genuinely very empathetic and can often understand other’s emotions better than people think

HE’S A MAMA’S BOY!! ever since sol introduced amora to the boys, they’ve been inseparable,, amora and agoti spend a bunch of time together and talk to each other about everything, including all of the things agoti sees and does on a day to day basis

“oh my god mom you won’t believe the bullshit i just witnessed”

“do tell, agoti”

he and tabi are lifelong friends :3 they met in early childhood and ever since then they were joined at the hip

SPEAKING OF TABI the two of them even in adulthood have regular nightly conversations about dumb things, over the phone or in person

“hey tabi have you ever picked a skittle up off the ground and ate it? it’s honestly delicious and i would totally recommend”

“excuse me? agoti do i need to call your therapist again”

i have a bunch more that im gonna make a seperate post for mwhehehehehe :3

#teehee! #hcs are so fun to write bc hello!! i can make my favourite characters do whatever tf i want them to and theyre almost always so right #mwheheheheheh #fnf agoti #fnf entity #🦇 human!agoti #my art #digital artwork #fnf headcanons #headcanons

[lokisivy]

request for peter quill x fem!reader (personality wise shes a female him.)

Maybe they meet after vol 3 and shes working at a hole in the wall recording studio\record store in Missouri and he comes in one day, complletly confused on what hes looking for till he finds some cassette tapes and goes on and on explaining diferrent music to her (bonus points if she already knows most of it.)

Records- Peter Quill

Minor GOTG3 SPOILERS.

It was a typical day for you working in the record store, not many people come in here unless it's fans of artists buying the new album. or old people buying vinyl because they don't know how to use a platform to stream it.

You would put in orders for the new releases and classics depending on the demand. you knew every person who walks in here would often come to buy an album for someone or themselves.

until a dark blond man with soft long curls hanging down his forehead walked through the doors of the store. He was tall and buff. I mean, very he looked big and jacked with muscles.

you never bothered customers when they come in unless they look like they are searching for something or need help.

you left that beautiful man to roam the place, but he seemed like he couldn't find what he wanted so you went and approached him.

"Hey, can I help you with something?c you asked the man.

He looks up to you, smiling. "Yeah, I'm looking for Redbone cassette tapes." He answered.

Damn he got blue eyes that melted your heart.

"Unfortunately, we only have LP Vinyls. Most cassette tapes stopped producing a long time ago."

"Why is that."

"Well, I don't really know. Most people collect cds or vinyls, and cassette tapes aren't really worth much if the artist isn't famous." You replied.

Cassettes is still a thing, but no one really buys them unless they have an old car or just to collect them.

"But readbone is famous."

"They are I know but they don't produce them anymore you can try cds."

"But they are big to carry around."

Confusion hits you. Why would he carry around tapes?

"You can find people selling them on eBay, but they are preownd, I can order them for you, but they will be pricey. Besides, you can listen to them on Spotify."

"What's Spotify?"

Huh?

How does he not know Spotify?

It's been here for a really long time.

"You don't know what is Spotify?"

He shakes his head in confusion.

"Do you have a phone?"

"Yeah, at home, but it's attached to a landline."

"No a smart phone. Like mine." You pull your phone from your pocket showing it to him.

"What's that?"

"It's a phone you can call and take photos, watch videos and stuff." You said

Is he a time traveller?

"Wow thats cool."

"Well you can download this app and you will find all kinds of music; 70s, indie, hip hop, Arabic, Latino and all artists."

"You're saying I don't need tapes I could just play what I want?" You nodded you gave him your phone to check it out. He rolled through your liked songs.

you don't have a specific taste you listened to a bit of everything.

"I should get myself one of these." he laughs he paused looking at the phone. "The chain?"

"Yeah, it's a classic one of my favourite songs from Fleetwood Mac." you chuckled tucking your hair behind your ears. you never really get flustered talking to anyone but he was something else.

his gaze was intensely on you holding fierce eye contact with you

"Alright I got everything I needed thank you y/n." he reads your name tag snapping you out of this enchanted moment

"you're welcome..."

"Peter," he replies

"Well, I hope I get to see you again Peter."

"Me too."

#peter quill #peter parker #peter quill smut #guardians of the galaxy #gotg vol 3 #gamora #star lord #drax the destroyer

[wawamouse]

Oz Rewatch 3: S2E01: The Tip

During opening titles, Sister asked “Does Mr. Mouse ever come back?”, which confirmed my suspicion that she did not register the he had died off screen. With Nino dead, Sister declared that she would simply have to keep tabs on “the little fava bean” (Rebadow). At the end of the episode when I asked if she had any new favorite characters, she said she would “have to fly her little [Sister] wings over to watch over the guy whose baby died”.

Me: Do you remember what his name is? Sister: …Is he Italian or Latino? Wait, what name does he look like… Hm…. Johnny boy! … Ernesto… Rodrigo? (*holding her temples*) Does it start with an A? Not a C name… Something like Domingo… Alvarez. Me: That’s his last name! Sister: Derek Alvarez. (after several minutes of alphabetical guessing, having reached H names) Me: It starts with an M Sister: Matt. Matteo. McManus…. Matthew… Michael? Michelangelo. Me: I think Michael is gonna be the closest you’re gonna get to it. Sister: Mikhail. Mitchell. Megan. Me: It’s somewhere around Michael and Mikhail. Sister: ........Mi...............Miguel! (cheering) Me: So Miguel is going to be your new favorite character? Sister: Yes. Mostly because I remember one of your little screencaps of him from a part we haven't gotten to yet, so I know he’s going to last. So I’m just going to put all my eggs in that basket and watch him start his little drug empire.

Anyway, time will tell if Sister turns into a Miguel fan or simply remains a Miguel observer, haha!

More on the episode itself... I really like the way this season starts! I think framing it as sort of a whodunnit/mystery investigation keeps the episode really focused throughout the runtime. Alvah Case is one of the more rational characters to come through the show, so it's really fun to see him actually trying to poke holes in people's lies and sift through the bullshit, even if ultimately no one is really held accountable for anything (although that turns out to be a save for the riot leaders, so I guess it evens out!).

Overall, I think episode 1 serves as a very good start to season 2, although I feel like the mystery of who killed Ross gets a bit tired in the middle. It's pretty obvious that it was Diane, so the red herrings that get thrown in over the course of the episode feel a little flimsy. That said, the interview style of the chase is still fun (visiting all the different characters), so I find I don't mind it.

Sister also seemed to like this episode. She liked Case, although she said he reminded her of a college admissions counselor and she was confused as to why he agreed to investigate if he's the dean of a college and presumably very busy with that. Much like S1E1, she managed to guess a lot of lines/plot points ahead of time.

Sister: Haha, surrounded by ghosts of girlfriends past.

Sister: By the lady? (Diane)

Sister, laughing: Weren't they all murdered??

Sister: He gonna bite it off… don’t do it! He gonna bite it off.

Case to Diane: And you…? Sister: Cradled him like a baby! Diane: Cradled him in my arms.

Robson's hallucination reminded me of this:

Stray/Final thoughts: Sister has been upholding the grand tradition of roasting McManus at every turn (“he’s been deteriorating rapidly. Usually when someone lands in the hospital, you say 'wow he looks terrible', but he looks the same. Didn't he used to wear suits?”, “he dresses like a 90s deadbeat dad”, “you’d think he’d try and clean up what with two ex girlfriend coworkers but he doesn’t… he’s just making it known that this is as good as it gets”)

Sister is surprised Gloria is still in the show because she doesn’t think Gloria has any story lines and her only purpose in the show seems to be shit talking the inmates and saying how bad they are at every staff meeting ("so like, why are you even here? Go open a private practice and make more money, girl, because you don't even seem to be here for the love of helping people")(me: *staring into the camera like Jim from the Office*)

Sister remains inexplicably suspicious of Sister Pete's character

I really thought Heim was going to do more in the show

Sister's out here thinking s2 is going to focus on the Latinos building and expanding their role in the tits trade by cornering the pharmaceuticals market. Oh how I would love to watch the version of the show in her mind where it's a prison business drama about Miguel making big money moves for El Norte 💀

Sister: People are very bald in this show

#oz hbo #oz rewatch #text

[luvly-writer]

No hate but are you ever gonna write a y/n whose whole personality isn’t just being Latina and then making a story out of really common latina stereotypes and surface level fanon interpretations of dc characters ? Don’t get me wrong the SMau’s are entertaining and I appreciate the work you put into the stories but it’s like they’re all the same (again no hate and this is coming from a Latina as well)

a. the majority of the time i write her in ways that reflect how I and the people that surround me act. Seeing as I was born, raised and currently live in Puerto Rico, many interactions, responses, and ways of her acting are based on things that me, my friends, and family have seen, said, done, expressed, and experienced. I truly try to write a character, in all of them, that is proud of her heritage and un afraid to express it. Part of it being inclusive towards latinas, is celebrating that things that make us, us. That is the reason that she demonstrates it as a character. Again, most of the things that I have written are things I have experienced, not stereotypes I have followed. Things such as speaking Spanglish, loving Salsa, missing home, big family dinners, el bochinche, and the genuine love and quick kindness many of us latinos share. Why would I make a Latina reader if I don’t emphasize the latino part.

b. With all respect to your opinion, I can see some similarities between the stories but they are not the same. ‘Lovely as you are’ (Damian x reader) takes on two college students, who don’t get along and are faced with the fact that they are soulmates whilst having a lot of miscommunication. ‘You are my sunshine” (Jason x reader) may follow the same line as LAYA because of the soulmate au, but aside from that it’s a whole different playing field seeing as they are two adults who face attraction from the beginning and develop their relationship from there on. I may have used the miscommunication trope for a second but the story carried on after that. Finally, ‘But oh..cara mia” (Dick x Reader) follows a whole different concept and Yn is not only a latina, she is also an Amazon. For my future stories, to which I already have the drafts for, they as well are not following the same line. Yes, there ARE similarities, such as speaking Spanish and visiting family, but they are not the same. Again, with all respect, do not mix the similarities with saying they are the same. Each story follows a different concept.

c. Finally, for the DC canon vs fannon. Seeing as we ALL read fanfic (reason why we are here lmao), the fanom interpretations are what we are mostly exposed to. Given that, naturally it will flow into the story, yet those are not the only things taken in consideration. Many of the things I have used for inspiration to get the characters right are things such as the animated movies, (ex. Batman: Hush, Son of Batman),the BatFam webtoon (which i sneak a few references to that), Young Justice, Teen Titans, etc. I mainly use the ANIMATED universe as my guide because it is the one I have been mostly exposed to. DC is a very dark universe, which is why most of us love it, but I do like to incorporate some fluff, fun, and light into that world. As a matter of fact, in “But oh..cara mia”, I rewatched the episodes of Teen Titans where Slade appeared so that I could properly showcase that arc. At the same time, given that Dick is most of the time shown as a sunshiny, preppy, go lucky golden boy, I incorporated a lot of his angst and anger from the earlier years in his story (well obviously, unlike the rest he IS the main character in this one, therefore developing him more). Before I write, I go back to the animated movies in order stay refreshed on each of them as a character. The only one I kind of had problems with was Jason because we only have Under the Red Hood, so i took more liberties with him, still trying to stay true to the character. Plus, the fact that we have WAY too many timelines, storylines, universes, and changes in the comics, I guess these takes of them wouldn’t hurt. Finally, if we all wanted full cannon, we would read the comics, this is all done for good hearted fun and entertainment.

Thank you for reading and for your comment. Please, I insist you do not take this the wrong way, I am just clearing up the three points you made in the ask. You are welcome to read any of my stories and enjoy them as much as you’d like! <3

[mdhwrites]

Idea Pitch: BasiLuz AU

TL:DR: An AU where Luz is actually half basilisk because Manny was the first basilisk that Belos made and managed to escape long before any of the others. Main issue was figuring out things about the story, or even Luz’s character, this really changed without feeling mostly redundant, but there were definitely possibilities. It’s just that I never figured out a great way to integrate them, partially because the show struggles to integrate its OWN elements into the plot. Two decades ago, a basilisk ran from Belos’ castle. He couldn’t save the other, smaller ones being made but at least he got away. He was powerless though and any report of a witch losing their magic would make it too clear where he was. He could feed off the land but how long could he run? There were always breaks between the Isles and the human realm though. Ones that monsters can find to make new legends and rumors. Demons and monsters naturally were attuned to them as being descended closer to the Titan than the witches and so he found one near an abandoned tower and slipped in. He wouldn’t be able to only live in the human realm but some time there could make Belos think he was dead.

Meanwhile, a woman in college for animal care was in the woods, enjoying the fresh air as she worked on homework rather than being stuck at home. She heard some crashing and stumbling and the next thing she knew, she saw a handsome young man who was more than a little awkward. When asked for his name, he said “Man...ie? and so his name stuck as Manny.

She made sure he never returned for more than a couple days as his heart fell hard and fast. Camila was too practical to admit to her own feelings but his awkward ways and how much he marveled at the world, much like how she marveled at the sci-fi planets that she sometimes desired to run off to, won her over eventually. That was also when things became too real and Manny decided that it was best to tell Camila the truth before they went too far in their relationship.

Camila had always found the aliens on the show more attractive than the humans though, so it was hardly a problem by then.

What did become a problem was Manny’s failing health. He was by no means a perfect creation. He was successful but especially without constant magic, his body was beginning to deteriorate. He managed to hide it from Camila until Luz was five. By ten, they would move back to the town they first met in and get a house right next to where a crack in the worlds was so Manny could try to recover. It wouldn’t be enough. The only solace Camila could take in was the fact that as far as either could tell, Luz didn’t need magic nor possibly had magic in her. She seemed, by all intents and purposes, entirely human.

At least until she proclaimed how human she was to Camila on the day she was supposed to go to Summer camp. It was all too familiar to the first time she’d met Manny but she didn’t reject Vee. She just begged for an explanation before setting up Vee in the house and heading to where the crack between realms was at Sunset.

She would find a confused Luz who was worried as to why the human only barrier had singed her before being absorbed by her and instead of demanding she come home, she decided it was time Luz find out what she truly was and get a taste for the other half of her heritage. She never wanted to lose her Latino heritage just because she lived in America after all and she and Manny had talked so many times about bringing Luz over the first time she shifted. It just... Never happened. And that was the main portion of what I’d figured out when someone pitched the idea of Basilisk Luz to me about the same time I started an Abomity story with another author (it was taken down at their request). Obviously potential changes could be made just because Camila was there and Luz had the potential to use magic. She just needed to steal it. Speaking of changes that appealed to me: Covention would have ended differently. As Luz cried out for Amity to stop from stepping on the trap, the panic and fear would create a pull in her that she felt back home but it had nothing to latch onto. Now it did as she drained Amity of her magic. Amity tries a spell but it fails and she runs off. The talk is not about glyphs then but that Luz would give Amity back all of her magic if she knew how. That she swear she didn’t mean to hurt her and if there’s anything Luz can do to make her feel better, she’s entirely open to her. Luz mumbles about sitting still as she tries, scared, to summon a fist or a fireball or something to hit Luz with. In that moment, Luz glows and Amity can do it. Her magic isn’t necessarily returned but in close enough proximity to Luz, she can still cast magic. Which led to the biggest change besides Camila being there that I could really think of dynamic wise: Luz becomes friends with Amity and her friend group so as not to let people realize that Amity doesn’t have magic. Honestly, probably the biggest issue for me with this idea besides asking just how much actually changes from Luz being a basilisk is that it’d be fun to play with the dual heritage aspect. But, well, I’m not Latino so I have problems there and the Isles barely has a culture if it does, so there’s not really a heritage to speak of there. There would be cute things about Vee and her being sisters, or potentially jokes about Vee being Luz’s aunt, but I just don’t know how much characterwise, besides the normal “WHAT AM I!?” stuff that normally comes with this (that I think Luz’s excitement for a fantasy adventure would lead to her taking in stride) would really change. Obviously things would change, there is definitely something to be done here, but no idea grabbed me enough for what would still be a very long project. So instead, here is a concept pitch for anyone who wants to play with it.

#Luz Noceda #The Owl House #Fanfiction #Vee #Camila #Concept Pitch

[chromehcart]

Under the cut is a partial transcript for a 2017 episode of the podcast "¿Hablas Español? with Soledad Sánchez" ft Cam, Derek John, and Alvin.

Soledad: ¡Hola! ¡Bienvenido! ¡Buenos dias! I'm Soledad and today we have some very special guests: Three of the members of Chrome Heart! And let me just say, I'm a huge fan. I'm, like, obsessed with your music and when I found out there were three Latinos in the group I knew I had to have you on.

Alvin: Thank you. We're glad to be here.

S: Okay, before we begin, please introduce yourselves to the audience. Though I'm sure that's not really necessary for you guys because you're like crazy stupid famous.

A: Hi, I'm Alvin Santiago.

Derek John: I'm Derek John Juarez, and honestly, I'm kind of starstruck right now because I grew up watching your show on Disney channel and I thought you were like, the coolest person alive.

S: Aww, that's so sweet.

Cam: Hi, I'm Cam Perez.

S: For those, who have been living under a rock, Chrome Heart is a boyband who were formed on StarCaster – a singing competition show – and blew up basically overnight because they're a pack of talented cute boys.

C: Okay, wait, before we start.. What was your show?

A: Oh, yeah, I have no clue either.

S: Wow. That's humbling.

C: No, no! I just didn't watch TV growing up and Vin's, like, old.

A: Thanks, Cam.

S: [Snorts.] Okay, well, I was the star of the show "Dreams Come True" where I played Mandy Martinez and I was basically a witch who could make people's dreams turn into reality and I got into hijinks and shit.

C: Wait, I kinda love that. [Turning to Derek John] Can we watch that when we go home?

DJJ: Of course.

S: Okay, so are all of you Mexican or no? Google kept giving me mixed answers.

DJJ: I'm Puerto Rican, but they're both Mexican, yeah.

S: Nice. I'm Colombian and Puerto Rican. And you guys all speak Spanish? Do you all.. Are you all fluent?

DJJ: I'm, like, mostly fluent? I didn't start learning Spanish properly until I was around eight because I lived with my dad, who doesn't speak it. But then I moved in with my mom and grandma and they basically talked to me only in Spanish.

C: Spanish is my first language, so I'm fluent, yeah.

S: Oh, wow, really? We never have people who don't have Spanish as their second language on here.

C: Yeah, um, I was born in Mexico and didn't come to the States until I was five. And I lived with my mom and Grandma my whole life, who only spoke in Spanish to each other and to me.

S: That's so interesting! Did you have to take ESL as a kid?

C: Yeah. But I learned English, like, stupidly fast because I hated all the teachers and the white kids talking to me like I was stupid. [Laughs.]

DJJ: Only you would learn an entire second language to get people to stop bothering you.

S: [Laughs.] And what about you, Alvin?

A: It's kind of like a joke between the three of us that I only know Mom Spanish. Like I only know the things my mom said when she was yelling at me and my brother. My dad refused to teach me because he wanted us to be, like, assimilated, but I still learned some things here and there, through, like, context clues. But when they have a conversation in Spanish, I only understand bits and pieces.

S: Yeah, my parents were the same way. They didn't want me to learn because they didn't want me to be ostracized. But all that did was make it harder to learn as I got older. Now I'm about sixty five percent fluent, I'd guess.

C: Sorry, I know you're the interviewer so you can disregard this, but were you.. Did your show allow you to be Latina?

S: Oh.. Hmm, kinda. I – My character – had Latino parents but they were both played by Mexican actors, and rarely seen. And I wasn't treated as Latina by the narrative, or the company. I was just.. a girl.

C: That's awful. I– Recently, the three of us were talking about StarCaster and the way it kind of.. racialized us.

S: What do you mean?

C: I'm not sure how to explain it but with us and Ross – another member – it was like we were a zoo attraction, like, this group has four boys of color! You want to support them because you want to support people of color to show just how supportive and socially aware you are! Instead of, like, based on our talents.

DJJ: And they would listen to our private, personal conversations and have a translator there, telling everyone what we were saying.

A: What? I didn't know that.

S: That's insane.

DJJ: Yeah but it's okay. We started lying, fucking with them, saying crazy shit so they started leaving us alone. One time Cam asked the translator dude if he'd be okay with people doing the same thing with him and his family and he refused to translate for the rest of the day because he felt bad.

S: As he should!

-

S: If you don't just sit in his lap. Good grief.

A: Pardon?

S: I've been watching the two of them squish closer for the past ten minutes. It's like they're trying to meld into one body. Just sit in his lap.

[Derek John laughs as Cam plops himself into his lap.]

-

S: What Spanish word or phrase do you use the most?

A: Dejen de hacer eso (Stop doing that) for sure. These two are always making me yell at them for something.

DJJ: It's good practice for your future children.

[Alvin rolls his eyes.]

C: Te amo. (I love you.) I say it to my mom and grandma and Derek John basically everyday.

A: But not me, because I'm his least favorite member.

C: [Laughs.] Shut up. Te amo, te amo, te amo.

DJJ: I think recently mine has been bésame. (Kiss me.)

S: Ooh.. Do you have a little señorita? O señor?

DJJ: [Nodding.] I cannot disclose that information.

S: [Laughs.]

-

S: Sadly, we've reached the end of our interview. It's been so lovely talking to you three. This is the most fun I've had in a minute.

C: Aww, you're sweet.

S: Because it's the end of the show, I leave you all with one final question: What's your favorite Spanish swear word?

DJJ: ¡Cabron!

C: Mierda.

A: Cabron as well.

S: [Laughs.] Fantastic! Okay, thank you guys so much for coming. Today was so much fun.

DJJ: Thank you for having us.

#— 2017. #mcpg #derek john #alvin #— writing. #— bonus content.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

A Hotter Planet Takes Another Toll on Human Health

A new hypothesis about heat waves, redlining, and kidney stones.

By Bill McKibben

January 19, 2023

Shortly after the New Year, the Washington Post ran a story with a headline that would have seemed inexplicable, even runic, to most readers just a few years ago: “The world’s torrid future is etched in the crippled kidneys of Nepali workers.” But we’re growing used to the idea that the climate crisis, in Naomi Klein’s phrase, “changes everything,” so why not the internal organs of Nepalis? Remarkable reporting by Gerry Shih tells a series of unbearably poignant tales: young Nepali men, struggling to earn a living in their impoverished homeland, head to the Gulf states to do construction work in the searing heat, some without access to sufficient water, some until they collapse. (Other reporting also shows that some Nepalis who work abroad resort to the black market for a transplant that might keep them—and the families that depend on the money they earn—alive.) The piece ends with a man coming back to the care of his sister, who donates her own kidney to save him. The costs of the medical procedures require that he sell his half-built house, and that he give up his life’s dream, which was to get married.

The Post was right: the world’s future is likely encapsulated in this story. The planet is getting steadily hotter, and large swaths of it are moving past the point at which it’s safe to do heavy outside labor in the middle of the day. A 2022 study estimated that six hundred and seventy-seven billion working hours a year were already being lost because it’s too hot to go outside and build things or farm. The researchers assessed the cost at more than two trillion dollars annually, but, of course, it could also be measured in other units—in vital organs, or dreams.

But it’s not just the future that’s illuminated by such studies; it’s the past as well. Unless you’ve been keeping up with your issues of Current Opinion in Nephrology and Hypertension, you may have missed a recent article titled “Redlining has led to increasing rates of nephrolithiasis in minoritized populations: a hypothesis.” I saw it only because one of the medical experts who wrote it—David Goldfarb, who runs the dialysis unit at New York’s V.A. hospital and teaches at New York University’s School of Medicine—is an old family friend. He forwarded it to me, and it fairly blew my mind.

“Nephrolithiasis” is the technical term for the development of kidney stones, those small formations that, as they pass, can cause excruciating pain. (I’ve never had them, but I know more than one man who has said he came away from the experience with a newfound appreciation for what his wife had undergone during labor.) Doctors have long known that higher temperatures lead to more sweat, which reduces urine volumes and thus increases “the saturation of the insoluble salts that cause kidney stones.” During heat waves in the U.S., it takes just three days before emergency-room visits for kidney stones begin to spike.

For reasons that remain unclear, kidney stones have traditionally been more common among white people, but, in recent years, doctors have noted huge increases among Black Americans and a significant rise in Latino communities. The authors of the new article looked to the past for a possible explanation—particularly to the nineteen-thirties, when a federal agency, the Home Owners’ Loan Corporation, graded all of America’s neighborhoods and deemed some of them “hazardous” for investment, essentially because they were home to large minority communities. This grading system (from A for “best” and B for “still desirable” to C for “declining” and D for “hazardous”) underlay what came to be known as redlining. The grading system led to “chronic disinvestment” in the lower-rated neighborhoods, resulting, over time, in less of everything from parks and green spaces to street trees and air-conditioning in homes.

Now the results can be measured with a thermometer: in Portland, Oregon, the authors report, neighborhoods that were graded A in the nineteen-thirties now “average 8 degrees Fahrenheit lower than the city’s mean temperature, while D-graded neighborhoods average 4.8 Fahrenheit degrees warmer.” Actually, you don’t need a thermometer—that’s a thirteen-degree gap that anyone can feel just by walking across town. No one has carefully studied the incidence of kidney stones among these different neighborhoods, but the authors, in their hypothesis, point to research now under way. Similar work on asthma, another heat-related disease, has shown emergency-room visits are 2.4 times higher in redlined tracts.

Indeed, Goldfarb’s son Ben—an environmental journalist who this year will publish a book called “Crossings,” on the environmental impact of roads—writes that the HOLC grading program produced all kinds of deleterious health effects. In Syracuse, Miami, Minneapolis, and other cities, large parts of neighborhoods that the agency had redlined—and whose residents were mostly Black—were bulldozed to make room for interstate highways. He told me, “Minorities today disproportionately live near the urban freeways that displaced them, and suffer as a result. Air pollution causes asthma and cancer; noise pollution increases the risk of heart disease and stroke; and the physical fragmentation wrought by highways shatters local economies. It’s heartbreaking, though hardly surprising, that disastrous policy decisions made decades ago continue to destroy bodies and communities today.”

It’s true that everyone is going to pay some price as the planet cooks. The authors of the nephrology study predict a likely additional cost to the U.S. health-care system of at least a billion dollars a year. But some people are going to be hit much harder than others because of history. Doing justice in the present requires taking that past seriously—understanding how we ended up where we are, and why we must put those with the least first, as we try to address the future. But we’re at a moment in this country when the idea of historical responsibility is increasingly seen not as logical and obvious but as some kind of invidious political correctness.

In April, 2022, Governor Ron DeSantis, of Florida, signed the Stop Wrongs to Our Kids and Employees Act, or the Stop WOKE Act. (In introducing the bill, he had said, “In Florida we are taking a stand against the state-sanctioned racism that is critical race theory,” adding that “we won’t allow Florida tax dollars to be spent teaching kids to hate our country or to hate each other.”) A preliminary injunction was issued against the act, which includes a dictum against any school teaching that “a person, by virtue of his or her race, color, sex, or national origin, bears personal responsibility for and must feel guilt, anguish or other forms of psychological distress because of actions, in which the person played no part, committed in the past by other members of the same race, color, national origin, or sex.” 

But, even if you can silence teachers, legislation can’t muffle the effects of history. On a hot summer’s day in Jacksonville, Florida, where DeSantis was born, the temperature in A neighborhoods is 5.5 degrees below the mean, and it’s 4.4 degrees above the mean in the D-rated communities.

#political cartoon #climate change #Bill McKibben #Nephrology #kidney stones #minority communities #articles #reckonings #redlining

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

Rep.-elect George Santos made additional false claims over the years about his family history, work history and education in campaign appearances over the years, a review of statements made in two of his campaigns for Congress found.

CNN's KFile uncovered more falsehoods from Santos, including claims he was forced to leave a New York City private school when his family's real estate assets took a downturn and stating he represented Goldman Sachs at a top financial conference where he berated the company for investing in renewables.

CNN also reviewed more instances of Santos providing additional false history of his family's background. In one interview, Santos said his mother's family's historical Jewish name was "Zabrovsky," and later appeared to operate a GoFundMe campaign for a pet charity (which he falsely claimed was a 501(c)(3) nonprofit) under that alias. Genealogists CNN previously spoke with found no evidence of Jewish or Ukrainian heritage in his family tree.

In another, he said his mother, whose family has lived in Brazil since the late 1800s, was a White immigrant from Belgium.

Santos' campaign did not respond to CNN's comment request.

Since reports first surfaced about his false claims, Santos has made efforts to downplay his fabrications as mere "embellishments." But the previously unreported claims from Santos illustrate a pattern of fabricating details about his life, often in service of presenting a more compelling or interesting personal narrative. The Nassau County district attorney's office said Wednesday that it is looking into Santos' fabrications, though it did not specify the falsehoods it would explore.

In interviews over the past few days, Santos admitted to lying about parts of his resume, including graduating from college, but he told the New York Post that the misrepresentation of his work history at Goldman Sachs and Citigroup was a "poor choice of words." There is no record he worked at the top financial institutions in the country, as he had previously claimed.

Santos also denied that he falsely called himself Jewish, claiming he "never claimed to be Jewish" but jokingly said he was "Jew-ish" to the New York Post. He also falsely claimed that his grandparents "survived the Holocaust" and fled Europe to escape Jewish persecution. But CNN found that Santos called himself an "American Jew" and "Latino Jew" on multiple occasions. The Republican Jewish Coalition disinvited Santos from appearing at any of its events because he "misrepresented his heritage."

Despite the scandals, the New York Republican, who flipped his Long Island seat, said he will take office in January — spurring calls to resign from Democrats.

Here are some of the outright falsehoods CNN found:

WENT TO FANCY PREP SCHOOL, BUT LEFT BECAUSE HIS FAMILY'S REAL ESTATE IMPLODED

In appearances, and in an old campaign biography, Santos claimed his parents sent him to Horace Mann, an elite private school in the Bronx.

"He began Horace Mann preparatory school in the Bronx, however, did not graduate from Horace Mann due to financial difficulties for his family," his biography read in 2019 for his first campaign for Congress that Santos lost. "He obtained a GED during his senior year."

Santos also made the same claim in an appearance on a YouTube show in 2020.

"They sent me to a good prep school, which was Horace Mann Prep in the Bronx. And, in my senior year of prep school, unfortunately my parents fell on hard times, which was something that would later become known as the depression of 2008. But we were hit a little earlier on with the overleveraging of real estate. And the market started to implode. Um, and the first thing to go was the prep school. You know, you, you can't afford a $2,500 tuition at that point, right? So anyway, um, I left school, uh, four months to graduation."

But the claim is false, according to the school.

"We've searched the records and there is no evidence that George Santos (or any alias) attended Horace Mann," Ed Adler, a spokesman for the school, told CNN.

CLAIMED HE CRITICIZED GOLDMAN SACHS AT PRIVATE EQUITY CONFERENCE AS AN EMPLOYEE

"Have you ever heard of a Goldman Sachs employee take the stage at the largest private equity conference in the world -- SALT, run by Anthony Scaramucci -- and berate their employer? Well, I did that," Santos said on a local podcast this summer. "And I did it in the fashion of renewable energy and global warming. This was the panel I was on. And they're all talking about solar, wind, and this was back, what, seven years ago now? And I said, you know what, this is a scam. It's taxpayer money that gets subsidized."

The claim is entirely fictional, according to both Goldman Sachs -- which has said Santos never worked there -- and Scaramucci, who runs the conference.

Scaramucci told CNN in a message there is not only no record of him appearing on a panel, but no record of him even attending the conference.

CLAIMED FAMILY'S JEWISH NAME WAS ZABROVSKY (AND FUNDRAISED UNDER IT)

In an appearance on a Fox News digital show in February, Santos said his maternal grandparents changed their Jewish last name from Zabrovsky -- a claim for which there is no evidence and records contradict.

"We don't carry the Ukrainian last name. For a lot of people who are descendants of World War II refugees or survivors of the Holocaust, a lot of names and paperwork were changed in the name of survival. So I don't carry the family last name that would've been Zabrovsky. I carry my mother's maiden name which is the Dutch side of the family."

Megan Smolenyak, an author and professional genealogist who helped research Santos' family tree at CNN's request, previously told CNN, "There's no sign of Jewish and/or Ukrainian heritage and no indication of name changes along the way."

Santos deleted his former private Facebook account last week, but CNN's KFile reviewed records indicating he used the alias of "Anthony Zabrovsky" for fundraising for a pet charity. The GoFundMe page under that alias no longer exists. CNN reached out to GoFundMe but did not receive a response.

SANTOS CLAIMED HIS MOM IMMIGRATED FROM BELGIUM

In one radio appearance from December 2020, Santos falsely claimed that his mother "fled socialism" in Europe and moved to the United States.

"My father fled socialism in Brazil. My mother fled socialism in Europe, and they came here and built a family. And today they can be proud to have a son who is a well accomplished businessman, who is now running for United States Congress. That's something that wasn't in the cards for my family," Santos said.

He also claimed in another interview from 2020 that he "grew up with a White Caucasian mother, an immigrant from Belgium."

But Santos' mother was born in Brazil, according to genealogical records.

#us politics #news #cnn #cnn politics #false claims #republicans #conservatives #gop #rep. george santos #new york #us house of representatives #kfile #goldman sachs #gofundme #new york post #Republican Jewish Coalition #jewish heritage #Horace Mann #anthony scaramucci #immigration #immigrants #2022

[monstrsball]

ok ok ok you asked for ppl to talk w you and i am in an oikawa Mood so i am here to share some headcanons that are making me kind of insane rn:

firstly. i have talked abt this before but biracial oikawa is living in my head fully rent free atm

thinking abt him being underestimated and belittled b/c of it, thinking abt him feeling outcast his whole life, thinking abt him and all the insecurities he might have

but also thinking abt all the pride he might have in being half latino, all the love he has for the little bits of culture his mother has kept safe for him, him speaking spanish and no one knowing what he's saying but that allowing him to get away with a thousand little love confessions that no one has to know how honest he is being in saying them

anyways i digress from all of my emotional projecting. no one percieve me.

so oikawa has an older sister, who i think is probably much older than him-- she was kind of a second mother to him while growing up, and they got distant when she moved out and started living w her boyfriend/fiance/husband. when takeru was born, oikawa was SO excited to be an uncle, and that's part of what drew him and his sister together again

i think he's absolutely terrible with change, which is something that comes to bite him every time he moves up a school year and the volleyball team members change

he believes in his team with his full heart, always always always, but he also gets scared at the beginning of each school year that this team isn't going to work/bond in the way that prev teams have

it always ends up ok, but a big part of that is because of all the work he does to cultivate the atmosphere he wants/needs

(iwaizumi, on the other hand, is pretty good with change and can adapt to huge life events with a lot more grace than oikawa can)

this is a pretty common take, but he has both ears in ALL of the gossip at aoba johsai. he knows everything that's happening with and to everyone, no matter how minor the story. he doesn't do anything malicious w/ it and he doesn't necessarily spread the rumors, but oh, he KNOWS them

in general, people tend to trust him with their secrets (something abt the smile) and he has a reputation of being able to keep quiet about ppl's secrets-- when they confide in him, it doesn't get out (or, it doesn't ever come from him at least. but as a rule, all gossip at aoba johsai spreads quickly..... yahaba and watari's gossip sessions at lunch are loud)

though with oikawa's quality secret keeping skills being said.... iwaizumi knows absolutely everything oikawa knows. he just also knows how to keep his mouth shut.

he's the KING of hype up speeches, always knowing exactly which buttons to push to get someone to smile and get energized

iwaizumi says the way he does it is a little manipulative; oikawa says it's just good people skills, iwa, you should learn them

i know everyone is like oh iwaizumi excels at every sport and oikawa is too focused on volleyball to do anything else, but i think that oikawa, while he doesn't excel at any other sport and he doesn't particularly care to try, knows the rules to all of them

this is mostly because he wants to understand what's happening when iwaizumi plays soccer/baseball/whatever. he will not be admitting this to iwaizumi any time soon.

ok this got real long real quick so i'm gonna stop lmfao but i hope you enjoy these because i am vibrating over them

OIKAWA!!!!!!!!

thank you so much i love all of these you are literally so right about all of these. especially oikawa not being good with change like that actually makes so much sense to me? and it adds another layer to his move to argentina. like it's such a big decision and he's not good with change but he does it anyway because it's his dream and he gets to work with one of his biggest role models.

also the bit about watari and yahaba's gossip sessions... excellent. i love the seijoh second years <3 they're seijoh's middle children but they're so important TO ME

#oikawa tooru #i bully oikawa a lot but i do love him... this was such a treat #everyone send me headcanons about your favorite characters #also im sorry but the bit about oikawa's hype up speeches and iwaizumi calling them manipulative made me think of jeff from community #except oikawa is 100 times better than jeff from community

[meanwhileinstasiville]

Always the same sequence. Latinos/gangs come up with an antagonism, and when it looks like it has an effect, the religious zealots take over.

There's one team (shinra) with everybody on it.

I have to guess what the intention is, or the desired effect.

Coat stalker on terminal 2 (the room is FULL of gang presence) says "crackpot greybeard"; I'm not a color, I'm not a gang member, I'm certainly not a number. (To name something is to have power over it, an ancient belief; a Goucher girl said I was "like A. Dial" as opposed to C. Dial, or N. Dial; so the "a's" as I call them, are fast becoming everywhere)

Ashland library front epp-248 or whatever sits on terminal 9 says "she's the police", and based on her earlier antics and habits; I don't think so. Says "latin king flavor text" to a gang infested situation.

Stalker cars and yellow says gang flagging until it looks like it has an effect (like everything else), and then the religious zealots take over.

People standing in judgement of me, implore me to "pass on judgement" or not be judgemental; of the "do what you gotta do" sort, where it's unfortunate and not at all their fault that they have choices.

White is something Mexicans desperately want, and I can't figure out who sold people to who; coopers says "that's a white Mexicans can have" Poland stuff "that's a white Mexicans can have" and on the heels of "Americans like their latinas to look Italian" (they don't, they don't like latinas at all, baring them from cultural integration to present day)

Drug pussy for someone I was staying with on arnos says Mexicans can't get credit (cards), so this arrangement of identity stuff will continue until I somehow award experian credit ratings to Mexicans as a whole

A charger costing a lot for someone who sleeps outside is being software moderated to some end, and both the flavor text and the dprk green stalker woman from mountain park path (and the only person I encountered) all say "phil lee". But that's a matter of chaddock convenience; they kill for less.

Bottom line is, this all seems to be leading up to the kind of life I should have been leading since childhood. Which is regrettable.

Why chastity? People don't have choices and being dead is "the other thing".

Why mass shootings? Either American stresses are so great that people are melting down violently at a rate of more than two a day or so, OR, the government wants Americans to "volunteer" their weapons in order to make America safe again. (And it has to be one of those)

There's even a substation down on "Nevada street" not that that ever amounted to anything. After a mountain and a golf course and swimming pools etc served as less than the power plant they were looking for; to wit, I think this is cop city based on Reinhold and Oharas insurance down from "Ashland's finest" jewelry pawn shop on the plaza. Because Eric is el chapo and they're still looking for him. And he's still here. Call him ganon or browser or smithy or even booster in booster tower, but here he remains. Ashland's municipal power plant of eating it's own tail.

Grandpa Dunn's sense of humor has East Main where the freeway was supposed to be before his dad washed it out. How do I know? Instant death is held off by a tiny "yield sign" in an island marked with paint, all on what appears to be a straight road. Don't think of giving Ashland a second chance on the way out of town? You're going to get into a head on collision and die. And the Hamilton house is along the way, there.

East main "dead ends" as everything at the small minded (back then) plaza worried of a freeway around it. So a gas station sits next to the "left turn of doom" visible from esther's teen section window tables. You get out going "one way" but not wanting to go back down east main and the light is there so you (the tourist) get to think about how tempting it is to turn left at a red, in front of oncoming traffic which does not stop. And people do. That's the temptation. Was supposed to be a housing development there; down from was windmill inn along that whole hillside. There's even a remnant unpaved road that became a driveway around the hotel corner down to east main. Again, where the freeway was supposed to go. Look at it from the air and notice it would've been a straight shot from sixty six all the way to talent with no curves in it. Where the city was supposed to be above the freeway whereas all the commerical industrial was supposed to be below the freeway.

Notice also, that that refined bridge entering town, beckons without signs like it's supposed to have; because they thought those platforms were for fancy light posts not for interstate signage. Ask how the sign indicating where you're going is able to be seen soon enough for an out of town driver to act on. It doesn't seem like much, but you can't read it in passing. This is real. This is how it is.

A bone being thrown to the latinos that they can't actually have though they can't summary execute me because greed; 20k for a reward for a murder solved and they can't figure out how to get the money.

[jennymanrique]

Cross-Racial Solidarity Against Racist Violence: The Legacy of Vincent Chin

Forty years ago, on the eve of his wedding, a young Chinese American named Vincent Chin was fatally beaten with a baseball bat on the streets of Detroit by two white men shouting anti-Asian slurs. The miscarriage of justice that followed – neither assailant served a day in jail for the crime – marked the birth of the modern-day Asian American civil rights movement.

What made Chin’s killing even more egregious, said Helen Zia, author and veteran activist for AAPI and LGBTQ communities who worked in Detroit at the time of Chin’s murder, was that “there was no question in anybody’s minds, had the killers been black or Asian, had they not been white, they would have gone to prison for a very long time. So the sense of injustice was great.”

Zia spoke at an Ethnic Media Services briefing on May 27th to highlight plans for a special 40th anniversary commemoration of Chin’s death in Detroit (June 16-19) and efforts to build stronger cross-racial solidarity to confront today’s surge in racist violence.On June 19, 1982 Vincent Chin was beaten in a racially-motivated attack in Detroit, Michigan. The perpetrators, both of whom were white, were released on probation.

Noting the parallels between 1982 and 2022, Zia recalled that Chin’s murder occurred amidst mounting public fears that manufacturing jobs were relocating to Asia even as inflation, fueled by an oil crisis, had already hit 20%. Meanwhile the Reagan administration was dismantling social safety programs such as unemployment benefits, food stamps, and mental health services – policies whose impacts are still being felt today.

“There were people in the C-suites, the heads of the auto industries, people in the halls of Congress saying we are at war because Japan makes fuel efficient cars,” said Zia, ignoring the fact that German cars were even more fuel efficient. “It was a scapegoat to blame some external force for the difficulties that were happening internally in America.”

That has happened repeatedly in American history, Zia noted, pointing to the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 that banned Chinese laborers from immigrating to the U.S., and the Trump administration’s national security program that focused counterintelligence resources on fighting “Chinese espionage.”

Then, as now, Asian Americans came together with Black Americans, Arab Americans, and people from all walks of life, social classes, and faiths to denounce racist violence, Zia said, despite concentrated efforts to keep people divided, including misinformation implying that much of the rise in anti-Asian hate crimes are committed by Blacks. 

‘Replacement theory’ drives racist-fueled attacks

Zia noted that the majority of assailants against Asians are white and that Black leaders – from Jesse Jackson to Stacey Abrams to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar – have denounced Asian violence, even as Asians have mobilized to support the Black Lives Matter protests in the wake of George’s Floyd murder.

“A study done by the University of Michigan that came out in the summer of 2021 shows that 75% of the attackers of Asian Americans are white,” said John C. Yang, president and CEO, Asian Americans Advancing Justice (AAJC).

https://www.youtube.com/embed/IYRIV-WatSE?feature=oembedAuthor and activist Helen Zia discusses America’s history of scapegoating Asian Americans in times of economic and social crisis.

“This hate is based on the ‘replacement theory’ in which extremists argue that all of our communities of color are seeking to replace white Christian males with guns,” Yang noted. “There’s a great deal of despair, but we’ll do all we can to help dismantle it.”

Yang spoke of the strong support he personally received from Black, Latino and Native American civil rights leaders following incidents such as the mass shooting of Asian beauticians in Atlanta last year.  “There is an allyship I found among my communities of color,” he added.

Lisa Cylar Barrett, director of Policy at the NAACP Legal Defense Fund, singled out “a running narrative” that holds that if one group gets ahead automatically, another group is left out or falls behind. The narrative is perpetuated by “a white power structure that seeks to maintain control and is fearful of the growing communities of color in this country.”

“We’ve had folks in political offices and media stations, corporate representatives creating an environment where misinformation and disinformation has become normalized,” Barrett said. “And we have to do more to push back against that narrative with stories that really help folks see the humanity in one another.”

Poor data on hate crimes

Michael German, a fellow with the Brennan Center for Justice’s Liberty & National Security Program who formerly investigated white supremacists for the FBI, argues that until there is more accurate official data on hate crimes, “people won’t understand that white racism is much more common in our society, that it in many ways is foundational in our society.” 

Right now, he called official data on hate crimes “so poor.”

Despite passage of the Hate Crime Statistics Act in 1990, requiring the Department of Justice to collect “accurate data,” the DOJ’s policy has been to defer the investigation of hate crimes to state and local law enforcement, though only about 15% of police departments acknowledge such crimes occur within their jurisdiction, German pointed out.

While the Bureau of Justice’s National Crime Victimization Survey reports an average of 230,000 violent hate crimes a year, the DOJ prosecutes just 25 defendants a year.

“There were always racist dog whistles that politicians would use to try to get votes,” German said. “But what’s occurring now is that they are actually openly supporting these causes, appearing at campaign events with members of right-wing militant groups.”

Speakers noted that the Biden-Harris administration has issued a directive to federal agencies to look at how they can “make racial equity real.” The Justice Department, meanwhile, is expected to release several new initiatives in the coming week aimed at addressing the recent rise in hate crimes that are mostly targeting Black and AAPI communities.

These efforts need to permeate down to other elected officials in legislatures and school boards, and to the community, the speakers agreed.

Zia also pointed to states like Illinois and New Jersey that passed bills to create curriculums for K-12 that acknowledge the real history of Asian Americans. At least nine other states are discussing similar initiatives.

Events commemorating Vincent Chin

Vincent Chin’s legacy will be honored through a series of live streaming events at Vincentchin.org. The site includes a guide translated into several Asian languages that tell the stories of cross-racial solidarity and understanding among communities and the history of civil rights in America.

Alongside other Asian-American organizations, AAJC is leading the “Unity March” on June 25, a multicultural event where Black, Indigenous, Latinx, Pacific Islander, LGBTQ+, Muslim, Sikh Arab, and Jewish people will come together in Washington D.C. to demand cultural equity and racial justice.

Originally published here

Want to read this piece in Spanish, click here

#English #Vincent Chin #Asian americans #New Jersey #California #Chinese American #Detroit #AAPI #LGBTQ

[charterproject]

An Interview With Mr. Cohen

Mr. C is a 6th Grade History Teacher, at a popular charter in New York City. He is also my partner, and a first generation American. In August he will be starting his 3rd year with his middle school. Out of respect for Mr. C's relationship with this school, the data that he cites in this interview will not be included.

Me: Do you like working at a charter school? Why?

Mr. C: Yeah I like it because it allows me to make money without a masters degree. It allows me to work on my skills as a teacher and an individual. I also get an opportunity to work with kids from a different background than me, and families of different socioeconomic statuses.

Me: Do you think that parents enjoy sending their children to your school?

Mr. C: Well what do you mean by that?

Me: Do you think they send their students to your school and trust in the teachers and staff OR do you think parents send their children to your school and treat it as a means to an end?

Mr.C: I think that most of the parents trust us and many of them buy into the system that we have created within the network, especially behaviorally.

Me: Why do you think there is such a large emphasis on behavioral expectations in charter schools?

Mr. C: Well I think that there’s an emphasis on behavioral expectations in all schools. As teachers we reinforce structure and act as secondary parental figures for our students, so we have to be consistent.

Me: Earlier you said that you enjoyed the access that working at a charter gives you to kids and families of different backgrounds and socioeconomic statuses - Can you provide more incite into the racial demographics of your school specifically?

Mr. C: Well based on the demographic data that I have seen 34% of the students are white, 26% are black. We have a small pocket of Asian students, which makes up 17%, and then I’d say that the remaining student body is multiracial. We have Latino kids at our school too but when we collect this data they are grouped into the African American and White category. There’s a big first gen immigrant population.

Me: Do you know where these students and their families have immigrated from?

Mr. C: If I had to give you a demographic report for 6th Grade. I would say at most in every class - we have 4 sections with 30 kids in every section - and theres about 5 to 10 in each section.

Me: What about financial demographics?

Mr.C: I don’t think that this is data that we collect. However informally, I know that we have kids who are really wealthy and kids that come from families that struggle financially. I have kids whose families have private homes in the Caribbean, and then I have kids who come from single parent households and have to travel 2 hours by themselves to get to school.

Me: Why do you think there is such a large first gen immigrant population at your school?

Mr. C: Well I think it has a lot to do with our location. But I also think our education system resembles education in countries outside of the US.

Me: Can you explain what you mean by “our education system resembles education in countries outside of the US?”

mr. C: Well we have a much more rigid structure of behavior, there is usually much more strict line in terms of the relationship between teachers and students. Like even with younger kids, the relationship could be seen a as a lot more playful - But in many foreign countries that relationship doesn’t usually exist. The focus is much more academics than play and recess aka longer school hours and more homework.

Me: Would you send your child to the school you currently teach at?

Mr.C: That’s a great question. I don’t know. Part of me says yes, and part of me says no.

Me: The part of you that says yes - why does it say yes?

Mr. C: Charter schools offer much higher school to parent engagement and communication. Strong emphasis on education and high expectations, and early preparation for the next level of education aka taking the regents in 8th grade.

Me: The part of you that say no - why does it say no?

Mr.C: Heavy reliance on technology. Not enough peer to peer social engagement. There’s also a lack of - how do I say this - equitable like classrooms. Because if you’re ICT or struggling with something there isn’t much attention given to them

Me: Thanks for your insight into about your charter specifically, Mr.C

Mr. C: My pleasure! Who's taking the dog out tonight?