#hispanic/latinx

[artofsanctity]

I'm just coasting.

[pupkashi]

volvi a nacer

gojo feels life start anew now that you’re by his side

a/n: hi hi friends ! this is heavily inspired by this song !! i think it’s so sweet and yeah <3 (unrelated but my bf sent me it i was geeking out for a week ok) ALSO GIGI (@4sat0ruu) I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS SO MUCH MY FELLOW LATINA 🙏🙏🙏; slightly latinx coded reader bc i can !

wordcount - 2,737

masterlist

translations: mi amor // my love, hermoso(a) // beautiful, mi corazon // my heart, cariño // sweetheart

there was time in gojo satoru’s life that he felt his life had essentially ended. he felt isolated, like no one would ever fill the void he felt in his chest.

he didn’t think he had anyone to lean on when he needed it, opting for a façade of cockiness and jokes when anyone asked if he was alright.

you saw through it all. with a concerned frown on your face as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could and squeezing him.

“i don’t need your hugs, y/n,” he scoffed, hoping you didn’t hear the wobble in his voice, “I’m the strongest, i can take on anything by myself.”

“I’m sure you can, but you don’t have to,” you whispered, not letting go for a second. you heard the tremble in his breath, the hitch in his throat when he heard your next words, “I’m right here, you’ll be okay.”

for a split second satoru saw the world for all its warmth and love rather than its faults and challenges. he felt the love and support he’d only ever imagined, the suns warm rays hitting his skin as you held him tightly.

it faded as you pulled away, and he could hear nobara and yuji yelling in the distance, toge and yuta laughing at something.

“I’ll be here if you need me, okay?” you reassure him, your hand lingers on his shoulder for a bit before you walk away.

you’re only two steps away when you feel satoru gently grab your wrist, letting go not even a second after he did. when you turn to face him he looks shocked, as if he didn’t have control of his own body for a second.

“uh- can-” he stumbles over his words, not knowing exactly what to say and not exactly having the courage to say whatever they were.

“yeah, i can,” you smile softly, taking his hand in yours, “how about we get some food, when’s the last time you had actual food and not take out or sweets?” you question.

satoru rolls his eyes, scoffing before counting the days on his fingers, “it hasn’t been that long,” he mumbles, smiling a bit when you shake your head and laugh at him.

it’s been three years since then, somewhere along the way the line of caring friend and something more had been crossed, pinkies interlinking during movie night, a stolen kiss in a maintenance closet when hiding from an upset yaga.

he’s not exactly sure what’s making him reminisce on that day. maybe he’s recalling the way the sunshine felt on his skin, the way it does now as it pours in through the blinds, landing on his bare chest.

“you didn’t snore this time” you mumble, voice a bit hoarse as you wake up.

satoru grins, “I told you I’d stop,” you can’t help but half laugh, cuddling up to him more, “I’d do anything you ask of me sweets.”

“it’s 9 in the morning and you’re already professing your undying love?” you tease, just barely opening your eyes to look at your lover, who’s already staring right back at you, soft smile adorning his beautiful face.

“would do it all hours of the day if you’d let me,” he replies, not missing a beat. you can only chuckle softly, letting your head rest on his chest. your hair tickles him a bit but he ignores it, focusing on the way your index fingers draws random patterns on his abdomen.

satoru lets his mind wander, he thinks how lucky he is.

how lucky he was to be given a second chance at life, to be able to come back from a place so dark, to now be able to quite literally be bathed in sunlight and tender touches.

“where’d you go?” you whisper, adjusting yourself on your side and letting your arm prop you up. satoru is reeled back in, snowy lashes kissing his cheeks gently as he lays on his side to face you.

“thinking ��bout how lucky i am,” he mumbles, staring at you for a second before a soft smile overtakes his lips, “I love you.” the words never fail to make you smile, you never miss a beat to respond, “i love you more, angel boy.”

“there isn’t anything i wouldn’t do for you, you know that right?” he’s focusing on the fuzz of the blanket rather than your eyes, looking up only when you hum in response.

“what if you have to fight off the most talented swordsman in the world for me?” you tease, he’s smiling at you as he sits up.

“then I’ll get a sword and do what i have to do to not lose you,” he answers like it’s the most simple thing in the world, “I’ve fought off worse haven’t i?” his cockiness makes you roll your eyes and chuckle, sitting up and kissing his cheek before stretching and finally getting out of bed.

“i guess so, you’re too strong for any of my hypotheticals,” you mumble, the taller man following you into the restroom, brushing your teeth together before heading into the living room.

“what do you want for breakfast?” satoru asks, his hands are already reaching for the ingredients for an omelette, recalling how you’d been craving one since last night but fell asleep as soon as you’d gotten home.

“what’s on the menu today, chef gojo?” you smile, moving from the couch to the kitchen bar, watching as he took out four eggs and various veggies and meats.

“how ‘bout that omelette you were dreaming of yesterday, sweetheart?” he’s grinning as he cracked an egg open with one hand over the bowl, a trick you’d taught him that took him the course of two cartons of eggs.

“you’re too perfect mi amor,” the words make his ears turn bright red, face flushed as he continues his fluid movements in the kitchen.

three years ago had someone told you the satoru gojo could make omelettes and crack eggs with one hand you would’ve laughed in their face, betting your life savings and then some against the snowy haired sorcerer.

yet here you are; three years, lots of broken eggs, burnt food and nights in the restroom later- you watch the love of your life make you an omelette.

the two of you eat breakfast over small talk, telling him of your plans for the day.

“I’ve gotta run some errands today, i hope traffic isn’t too bad” you trail off, mentally checking all the things you had to do.

“i can drive if you want,” he shrugs, chugging down the last bit of orange juice in his cup before grabbing your plate and placing them in the sink. “i don’t have anything else going on.”

you smile at your lover, “you don’t have to drive me around everywhere, you know that right?” satoru knew your distaste for being behind the wheel, he only saw it as an opportunity to pamper you and treat you like the royalty you were.

“i know, but i love driving you everywhere,” he grins, walking next to where you were seated and bending over to kiss your temple, “I’ll be your loyal chauffeur for as long as you’ll have me, hermosa.” the word is foreign on his tongue, it slips past his lips naturally, just the way you’d been teaching him common phrases.

“hermosa? who’d you learn that one from?” fighting the smile off your face was a predestined loss, barely hiding how over the moon you were at the new pet name. your words are teasing as you stand from the kitchen bar, stopping right in front of your lover, looking up at him.

“duolingo was hitting on me, actually,” satoru replies, a dimpled smile on his face when your arms snake around his neck, pulling him downwards so his lips met yours.

“can duo fight?” you laugh between kisses, pressing a softer kiss to the tip of his nose before detaching yourself from him.

satoru is ready before you, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching- no admiring, your every move as you get ready. his mind is filled with a whirlwind of compliments he can’t seem to get out, overcome with an overwhelming sense of love for you.

you’re an aura of warmth, kindness and love, and angel sent for him. a caring soul, who nurtured him back to health; through late night calls that ended with you in his apartment or vice versa, gentle reminders and tight hugs helping him through his toughest nights. through forced outings to fairs and arcades, despite his protests that he has been doing things other than working with his students and going on missions (he hadn’t).

it had taken time, but satoru had healed.

your love had healed him.

“oh i can’t do movie night Friday” you frowned, watching as the second and first years trained.

“oh? why’s that” satoru was caught off guard, you’d never been one to cancel on him.

“i- uh- I’ve got a date, actually” you chuckle, staring at your finger nails before looking at the man next to you.

“a date?” he repeated, heart sinking and stomach falling as you nodded with a smile.

“nanami set me up with them, didn’t know he actually had friends besides us,” you smiled, trying your best to ease the palpable tension.

you’d gotten up and left shortly after that, some lame excuse he can’t remember now. he did remember angrily walking into nanami’s office, accusing him of hating satoru and wanting to see him suffer.

“have you thought of- i don’t know, maybe telling y/n how you feel?” kento sighs, trying his best to focus on the report he was filling out before satoru had barged in.

satoru hadn’t thought of that, but he took his friends advice and marched up to you three hours later, confessing his feelings upfront.

“don’t go on that date, they don’t deserve you,” he began, immediately taking you back, “and maybe i don’t either but just give me one chance and i swear you won’t regret it.”

“what’s up with you today? maybe you shouldn’t drive” your words pull him out of his memory, blinking once, then twice before fully coming back to his senses.

“do you remember when you told me you had that date?” he asks, watching as you furrows your brows, the corners of your lips turning upwards as you recall the memory.

“oh yeah! then you confessed like an hour later” satoru nods, blushing a bit. “what about it?” you ask, moving to sit next to him, taking his larger hand in yours, tracing soothing circles into his skin with your thumb.

“i didn’t even know i liked you then,” he admits, “i just felt this terrible feeling in my stomach and yelled at nanami for wanting to ruin my life.” the revelation makes you smile a bit, “he told me to tell you that i liked you and only then did it dawn upon me that i had romantic feelings for you.” satoru laughs at himself now, looking at you with sparkling blue eyes.

“well, you were- and still are a bit of a dummy” you mumble, pulling his arm so satoru can lean against you, letting you rest your head atop his. “my silly angel boy.”

angel boy.

the first time he heard you say that he quite literally stopped in his tracks, smiling from ear to ear before picking you up and spinning you around. ‘say it again!’ he kept asking, blushing just as hard every time the pet name left your mouth.

satoru loves grocery shopping with you, checking off things as you put them in the cart. he thinks you look angelic against the backdrop of produce, heart fluttering as you look for the best bunch of cilantro.

he could do this for the rest of his life, he thinks to himself. the realization makes him bump against the display, thankful nothing fell over.

satoru gojo wants to marry you.

he wants nothing more in his life than to be with you for as long as he could. he wants to spend his mornings and nights besides you, he wants to make you breakfast and help you cook dinner, he wants to wash the dishes because you hate washing them, he wants to wake up to Cumbia and bachata on Sunday mornings as you clean, joining you and singing in broken Spanish as you serenade him with a broom.

it’s not as romantic as he’d once imagined, he thought the realization would come to him as the wind blew through your hair, or the golden rays of the sun kissed your cheeks.

instead he’s watching you pick out a two pack of steak, looking at him with a wide smile, “the prices dropped!” you grin, giddy as you happily put the meat into the cart, practically skipping down the line of raw meats.

he can hear his heartbeat in his ears as he wonder what to do next, mindlessly following you around the grocery store with the cart, every aisle affirming the fact that you’re the only one for him, especially as you tell him to get one sweet treat for the week as you go and get the milk.

he’s staring lovingly at you as you wait in line at the register, watching with interest as your eyes light up, “cariño can you get the eggs? i completely forgot,” he nods immediately, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek before turning on his heel and heading towards the eggs.

satoru lets the thought of marriage ruminate in his mind, recalling the times you’d talked about marriage, agreeing that you’d want to marry him. what if you’d changed your mind since then?

later that week as satoru is passing you the salt, he asks you the question that’s been eating at his mind. “do you still wanna get married?”

you chalk it up to his usual insecurities, turning around and kissing the tip of his nose and both his dimples. “‘course i do, angel boy” you reply, not missing a beat, “why? everything okay?”

satoru nods, eyes fluttering shut when your lips are pressing against his. “everything’s perfect,” he mumbles against you, smiling and chasing your lips for one more kiss before he passes you the butter.

one month later satoru is under the shade the cherry blossom trees give him, with you staring down at him, mouth still agape from seeing him get down on one knee.

“mi corazon, I’ve loved you more than i thought possible, you’ve breathed life into me when i thought there was no reason to keep living, you bring out the best in me everyday,” he begins, hands shaking slightly as you stare back at him, tears welling in your eyes.

“i want to be by your side for the rest of my life, i want to find you in every crowd, save you a seat next to mine and end my days with you in my arms,” satoru tried to ignore the thumping of his heart in his ears, “i want to be the only one lucky enough to be loved by you, will you marry me?”

you’re nodding quickly, mouth still covered before you’re throwing your arms around the snowy haired man- your now fiancé. “of course, yes!” you laugh, sniffling and wiping the tears that had fallen as you squeeze him tightly. “i love you cariño, i love you so so much” you grin, pressing your lips harshly against his, not caring when your teeth bump against his as you both smile, the spring wind causing pink petals to fall around the two of you.

there was a time in gojo’s life when he thought his life was over. he looks back and smiles, how was he supposed to know the best part of his life was only starting?

the void he once felt in his chest was now overflowing with the love and patience you poured into him; sickeningly sweet pet names and tender touches to ease his mind.

satoru can’t help but smile when he wakes up next to you everyday, grateful beyond belief he decided to be vulnerable that day in the courtyard.

“already staring at me lovingly?” you teased, making satoru grin, dimples on his cheeks as he hummed.

“something like that.”

[zeze-mp3]

make plans to get out of here (america) as quickly as possible in an emergency (read: get your passport and save money)

become as familiar as you can with everything that trump has said he will do, study that 900+ page plan and know who is involved

show as much support as possible for queer people and poc, especially trans and latinx people

support women's rights to their own body

specifically to Christian people: please, please, please show support for queer people and poc and please show your aversion to Christian nationalism

protest, disrupt the natural flow of things, don't be quiet don't stop talking about it

[sbrown82]

Black culture in Bluefields, Nicaragua! ✊🏿🇳🇮

#HappyHispanicHeritageMonth

[sapper-in-the-wire]

So bungie made this post, and it’s getting dog piled by reactionary morons. Latinx derives from Chicano movements incorporating a Nahua ‘X’ into modern Spanish (Chicano can be rendered as Xicano with almost the same pronunciation). Chicanx was a way to incorporate a linguistic heritage that was almost wiped out by the Spaniards, challenge Spaniard led linguistic rigidity in gendered language, and also speak to the American relationship with the letter ‘x’ (Malcom X, the usage of X to mark slave cargo etc).

It’s a regional thing, invented by those that that thought it worked for them. If it doesn’t apply to a Hispanic or Latino because they don’t have a Nahua ancestral root, cool! It wasn’t supposed to be all encompassing. And yet the response is just pure smoothbrain reactionary - especially for something which is just a regional thing. What? Chifa isn’t a word because it’s only in Peru?

If you use Twitter, go mark that stupid community note as unsourced and incorrect.

https://x.com/bungie/status/1708886230492967428?s=46&t=gD2LFCz8QzvT16bpU8LsQA

[hausofamire]

Melanin is not a variation. It's the original blueprint.

[whenweallvote]

Up and down the ballot, Latino voters have the power to determine the outcome of elections in November. Just look at the numbers! 👉🏽📈🗳️

This Hispanic Heritage Month, let's keep showing up and fighting for our communities. Register to vote now at WeAll.Vote/register, then send this to three friends who need a reminder too. ✊🏽

[dhddmods]

Lately, we have been making many inclusive designs, and this is no exception!

Everyone is free to use this design on shirts, stickers, pins, whatever they'd like, as long as they are using it for inclusive purposes! Just don't claim it as your own, please.

The first is transparent. The second has a background, for easier viewing

Check out our other designs:

I support equality always

Attraction is individual, not societal

Gender and sex are spectrums

Nobody chooses their sex or gender

[lescraze]

In this oil on canvas painting by Criselda Vasquez, she uses her parents to reinterpret and contemporize the iconic 1930 painting by Grant Wood, American Gothic.

My parents were young migrant workers, my dad was brought into migrant work at a very young age, he dropped out of school when he was in middle high to do so. He was brought into migrant work by his mom and his moms mom, and so on. Migrant work is all my dad knew, on the other hand, my mom finished school, and attended university prior to getting pregnant, which pushed her into working in such conditions. Still was very interested in continuing to educate herself in any way possible. In the early 2000’s my parents officially decided to stay in Colorado, even though they could have chosen from California, New Mexico, Arizona, or Colorado, my parents were set on Colorado. My mom, still wanting to expand her knowledge , began taking English classes at our local Migrant Head Start, a head start that was for migrant families in the summer to provide child care services and early childhood education. My mom has no ESL (English as a second language) degree whatsoever, but, my mom took time out of her day and energy to not only teach herself English, but to help her 5 year old daughter with her english. My dad on the other hand didn't bother learning the language, and soon after getting basic knowledge on the language, I became my dads personal interpreter. 

Now growing up in a strictly spanish speaking household, even after learning english. My parents made it more of a priority to speak Spanish at home as much as possible, because they believed that in not doing so, we would lose our spanish my dad would go off and yell, “No no no en esta casa se abla Espanol, nada de ese engl-eesh” or “Na nada de eso, espanol por favor”, Making it hard to practice my english at times outside of school, but still very much grateful for this decision now. In school I strictly spoke english, because besides being the only place I could practice, my teachers would make it a priority we only spoke english as school, especially those in the ESL program. This is what always confused me about the situation. I wasn't allowed to speak Spanish at school, but I became my school's interpreter on almost every occasion, so you know, I kinda had to speak Spanish for that. Same at home, I was not allowed to speak English to or around my parents inside the house or outside, but yet I was always told "Mija diles esto…” and I went off speaking english. At the time, it made it hard to be encouraged in being the bilingual student or the interpreter everywhere I go, but now thinking back, I wouldn't have it any other way. Boy was that annoying, but no one else would do it.  Even though there were times where I wished I only knew one language and cried, because other children and peers would make fun of my accent, in which now, I am extremely thankful. Everytime I felt like not wanting to speak because I said ‘Cinnamon’ instead of ‘synonym’ (say it out loud and tell me it doesn't sound the same) I always had my momma cheering me on. Times where I felt frustrated because  I couldn't understand a concept, my mom was also there reminding me that being bilingual is an honor, and should be embraced and would tell me, “Nunca te avergüences por tu lenguaje! Puedes conquistar el mundo sabiendo dos lenguajes , nunca te avergüences mija” (Never be ashamed for your language. You can rule the world knowing 2 languages). Boy, my mama couldn't be more right…

[artofsanctity]

Don't look at me like that, papi.

[siren-crown]

It is wild to see so many Dems on Twitter let their masks slip and go full-fledged racists towards Latinos and Arabs. I have seen people gleefully talking about calling ICE or watching it be called. Also, the number of people wishing Trump to crater Gaza is sickening.

Like, they recognize these things are racist and life ruining. I saw a man say you should call ICE on Trump supporters undocumented family members which is FUCKED. Undocumented people can't vote, they had no say in this election and they know how bad ICE is, but they are willing for them to be casualties in order to "teach a lesson". I saw other people about not only breaking the Starbucks boycott to punish pro palestine people, but to boycott Arab businesses.

THE MOMENT THINGS GOT TOUGHER EVERYONE STARTED LEANING INTO WHITE SUPREMACY TO PUNISH THOSE ALREADY VULENERABLE.

[marynixey]

I want to know, legitimately, what we can be doing about the mass deportation going on? What’s the move? Radical to grassroots—please tell me.

The border has never ever been a pretty place and asylum cases were barely heard and “babies in cages” was never a joke. There was the forced sterilization too. And now it has managed to get even worse.

They’re shutting down asylum seeking, they’re not honoring visas, they’re targeting anyone brown (including mother fucking indigenous people). DACA’s blown. DREAMers can no longer dream. Trump’s fulfilling his promises, even going back to the first administration.

And then there’s Guantanamo Bay… which is horrifying. And Holocaust-y.

I will do anything to protect my students and my community but I am feeling so helpless. Give me some guidance because I can’t do nothing. I absolutely cannot.

[booklovingturtle]

Why JRH & LMM matter so much to me...

TLDR: I'm a Hispanic-American woman raised by a Central American father who loved musicals before he could even speak English to understand them.

I love seeing other Hispanic men embracing this form of expression and engaging in the community to show that loving musicals doesn't make you "white" or "gay".

If you want a more in-depth explanation of what JRM and LMM mean to me and my family, please read below.

I'm a Hispanic-American woman who was raised in a predominantly white area. My entire life I've been made fun of by my cousins and the friends for loving musicals so much.

You see, my dad's never been a traditional machista Central American man. Back in his country, he remembers watching Grease on a friend's TV (they were too poor to own one in his house), and he loved it, despite not speaking English. He loved the music and dancing. 

Then he came to America in the 80s. Dirty Dancing and Footloose were released. By that point, he understood more English. He watched and loved both. When I was born, I grew up watching these as my dad's favorite movies. Since I was an infant, musicals have been a part of my life. My dad couldn’t afford Broadway or anything like that so he wasn't a fan of musical theater in that sense. But he was a huge fan of movie musicals so we watched pretty much all of them as kids. 

With things like Disney Channel and (later on) YouTube slime tutorials, I was exposed to more musical theater. I showed my dad so many videos about all of the shows I thought he would enjoy the most. He even took my siblings and I to Broadway multiple times now that we’re older and can afford that kind of stuff. He sat in the Circle in the Square and Walter Kerr Theatre in tears when we saw Once on This Island and Hadestown, respectively. Now he’s a fan of more traditional musicals thanks to the internet making it more accessible. Which is great! However, despite its accessibility improving…it’s still not common to see Hispanic men engaging with musicals.

Musical theater is objectively a white industry. The more I got into it, the more my friends and family would make fun of me. I never really cared or was even offended by it. I grew up hearing my cousins and uncles call my dad "gay" for liking those kinds of movies. He always went along with their jokes and never seemed bothered by it. As I got older and realized how problematic their statements were, it started to bother me more. 

Because my dad likes musicals, he has other be gay?

Because I like musicals, I have to be white?

How does that make sense? There's something wrong or othering about him because he's into musicals so he can't be a "normal" man therefore he has to be gay?????  I'm a woman so it's okay for me to like musicals but, actually...no because I'm a brown woman I can't????

Absolutely idiotic and bigoted.

Like I said, it used to never bother me because it never seemed to bother my dad. Even now, it's almost 2025 and he still says he doesn't care because he likes what he likes, no matter what people say. Which I love to hear and see. But at the same time, it bothers me greatly  that this has been a topic of discussion in my community for years.

Now it just makes me so happy to see other Hispanic men in musical theater making a space for themselves. 

It's my hope that as musical theater becomes a more diverse industry, my community will be able to unlearn the stereotypes we've absorbed and regurgitated for decades.

[worldendercharles]

no but actually when a trans person of color tries to talk about oppression, you should shut up and listen, especially if you're cis and white.

[hausofamire]

They measured beauty by the bridge of European noses.

But yours carries the wisdom of desert winds, monsoon rains, savannah breezes.

Your nose is not a deviation. It's adaptation. Perfect for the air your ancestors breathed.

[whenweallvote]

Our vote is our voice and our poder! We are proud to partner with Te Lo Juro Collective to launch an exclusive VOTA collection for Hispanic Heritage Month. 🧡❤️🤎

Shop our new VOTA and resilience-themed crop top, sweatshirts, tote bag, and stickers now at telojurocollective.com. 🛍️ Honor your strength, celebrate your power, and get ready to head to the polls in style! 🗳️

Te Lo Juro is a lifestyle brand that celebrates authentic Latino/x culture through fashion and art with a strong sense of pride for our cultura and our communities.