#this is coming from a mexican who grew up in a mexican household with her mom speaking spanish all her life

[mischiefbuckley]

also the fact that on the national stage for the presidential debate he said “they can’t even speak English” when talking about the immigrants in the United States like fucking come again how fucking racist can you be I didn’t know it was a requirement for people that are fleeing their home countries for the safety of not only themselves but their family to be required to learn and speak another language like again the United States doesn’t have a national language. Also there are millions of people that have lived in this country for years and decades and don’t speak English or know more than one language. In the United States alone there are more than 350 languages, with yes English being one of the popular languages, but also Spanish, Chinese, Tagalog, Vietnamese and Arabic also being popular languages that are spoken widely in this country. A reminder that again you can live in the United States and not know the English language because we have never had a national language as this country

[gallilovesf1]

Title: Into You

Number of Episodes: N/A

Themes/Warnings: Slowburn, light smut (Kissing, teasing, sexual tensions) angst, fluff, mentions of death,Daddy kink, Neglections.

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Cover

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Character Descriptions:

MAIN CHARACTERS:

Y/N Horner (femHorner! READER)

- 5’2 ,British, 22 years old, fresh graduate from Harvard University under the course of Mechanical engineering.

- Likes to draw and paint, can play a few instruments like electric guitar and piano.

- Forced to take the course of mechanical engineering because of her mother who’s a mechanical engineer at formula one who recently passed due to cancer (lung).

- Smart and hardworking person who thinks that everything is a competition because of the household that she grew up in, But doesn't want to compete with his brother because they get a long way to well.

- Younger daughter of Christian Horner the team principal of red bull racing oracle formula one team.

- Has prior knowledge to FORMULA ONE, but doesn’t take that much interest in it.

- Neglected by his father

- Sergio’s Bestfriend

- Has Big problem of having a daddy issues.

- Sebastian Vettel is her favorite driver, because she remembers how Seb treats her as a kid, Seb likes to give her hugs, candies and even tells her how would she help the environment as a kid or even when she grows up.

Christian Horner (Team Principal of RedBul Racing Oracle Formula One Team)

- 50 years old

- 5’10

- british

- Father of Y/N Horner and Jonathan Horner

- Pressuring his daughter to take her job as the one of the engineers in Redbull.

- Hates Mercedes team so much.

- Ignoring her daughter's talents in arts and not letting her take another course or study under a fine arts program.

Jonathan Horner (Redbull Driver)

- 5’8

- 26 years old

- british

- Son of Christian Horner

- Older brother of Y/N Horner

- One of the Driver for Redbull racing

- Loved by his father

- Protective to his younger sister

- Hates his own father because of neglecting his own daughter (you).

- Supportive to his younger sister, thinks that it’s cool that Y/N can draw and is a mechanic for the red bull

Sergio “Checo” Pérez (Red Bull racing driver)

- Mexican

- 5’8

- 34 years old

- Driving alongside Jonathan Horner.

- Has a crush on Y/N Horner, but doesn’t tell her because he thinks that y/n will not like her.

- Best friend of Y/N

- A shy and introverted person but talks a lot when he’s with Y/N

- Likes it when Y/n is telling him about how she likes art so much, sometimes takes Y/N in art museum whenever it’s race week.

- Y/n’s biggest fan when it comes to art.

- Treats y/n whenever he can, because he thinks that y/n deserves so much more.

- A ray of sunshine to Red bull

- Is Confused all the time

Toto Wolff (CEO and The Team Principal of Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS Formula One Team)

- 52 years old

- Austrian

- 6’5 (🧎🏻‍♀️)

- Has a big problem with anger issues.

- Hates Horner and Redbull.

- Thinks that Y/N is too good for redbull

- Has a soft spot for y/n, but hides it because he doesn’t want y/n to think that he’s weak, given that he looks intimidating and tall ( well he is…)

- Divorced, has 1 kid with his Ex-Wife. (Not canon Toto:( )

- Jealous of Sergio, because Sergio's very close with y/n and he isn’t. In fact Y/N doesn’t even know him, she just knew that he’s the team principal of Mercedes, nothing else.

- Likes Y/N

- Brat tamer toto (RAAAAAAHHHHHH)

- Manipulative, He thinks that he can get anything, buy everything because he's toto Wolff, the team principal and the CEO of Mercedes formula one team.

Lewis Hamilton (Driver for Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS Formula One Team)

- British

- 39 years old

- 5’9

- A very close friend of toto

- Helping Y/N to know more about F1

- Thinks that Y/N deserves so much more and not just a engineer.

- Y/N's friend in Mercedes, he likes it when y/n runs to his garage to catch up and congratulate him about the race, win or lose y/n always do that.

Supporting Characters:

F1 Grid (Drivers to be mentioned later on the story)

F1 Retired drivers (Appearance in the race, paddock and outside)

MASTERLIST

[brynnterpretations]

Hello! I hope you’re having a lovely day! I would like to ask for a ship request for my OC Magdalena (Maggie) with the Bowers Gang, please. She is a first-gen Mexican-American, 5’4”, with olive-toned skin and a curvier (mid-size) body. Her hair is dark brown, long, and fluffy, sort of like a lion’s mane, and her eyes are brown. She wears a lot of light colors, dainty floral prints, and feminine pieces, etc. Maggie gravitates more towards tank tops, dainty blouses, cardigans, skirts, dresses, loose-fitting jeans, flats, Mary Janes, and kitten heels. She is a very lively, friendly girl who cares for others more than she cares for herself. She uses humor and sarcasm to diffuse situations often. While she appears to be very easygoing, Maggie actually has very low self-esteem and bottles up her big emotions, which cause her to be very sensitive and defensive, making her especially catty and blunt during verbal arguments. Maggie was raised Catholic and is forced to act as the perfect, family-oriented, obedient daughter at home. She likes a wide variety of music, most notably Bananarama, Donna Summer, the Runaways, Dokken, Caifanes (Mexican goth rock band), TOTO, and the Beatles. Her hobbies include playing volleyball for the Derry High girls' team, sewing her own clothes (most of her closet is homemade), going to the record store, and nature walks in the woods or quarry whenever she has free time away from her family.

I apologize if I wrote too much. Thank you so much for taking the time to work on this. I truly appreciate your amazing work!

You didn't write too much at all! She sounds so interesting and if you write something with her I'd love it to be sent to me. Thank you for the kind words and sending this in!

I ship Maggie with...

Victor Criss

Maggie and Victor meet during fifth-period chemistry after being paired together as lab partners. Before then, the two hadn’t interacted much; while Victor always thought she was pretty, they ran in completely different social circles, so he didn’t know her well enough to form a romantic interest in her.

However, once they start working together, Victor falls — hard. He's very much attracted to soft, gentle, artistic types, and as he engages in polite small talk with her throughout their lessons, he becomes extremely interested in Maggie.

And, as much as Victor likes those aforementioned types, what he likes most is someone who has a bit going on in their lives, particularly because he can relate, and believes that the best relationships come through working through issues together. So, all in all: the guy's sold.

After learning more about her and taking her family life into account, Victor would ask her out in the most gentlemanly, Victor way by asking to meet her after class before laying the big question: "would you like to go on a date with me?"

The dates would be extremely thoughtful and sweet; the first date, Victor takes her to Derry's record store, and tries picking out records for her that she likes, learning her music taste in the process. While Vic has a pretty cut-and-dry post-punk music taste, he's extremely open-minded, and would make a point to listen to things she recommended.

As he learns her taste more, he makes her custom mixtapes, and will 100% jam out to Cafaines with her.

On that note, Victor is absolutely enthralled by her hobbies. While creative, he's not super crafty, and also... he is not a sporty person at all. He's very much blind to physical senses, so he loves watching her play, and finds a lot of joy and solace in being around her while she sews or goes on walks, even if the two aren't talking too much.

(Also, let's be real, Vic thinks she's really hot while playing volleyball).

Additionally, Vic would be pretty in-tune with the standards her family imposeds on her regarding religion. He grew up in a New-Age, spiritual household, and nobody can be blind to the effects of organized religion in Derry's heavily Catholic community. He wouldn't be pushy, but he'd definitely try to talk to her about her religion, home life, etc.

To that point, he knows what it's like to always have to be the "rock" for people, and while he doesn't have that gendered, religious aspect to his experiences, he understands that Maggie does, and he takes that very seriously.

Vic would be able to understand her insecurities, and would always put boundaries between people (*cough* Bowers and Hockstetter *cough*) and her. He specifically makes sure what is and isn't O.K. in the relationship (E.G. is it fine if he picks you up at your house? What compliments are O.K.? What compliments are not O.K.?) and is always very attentive to her.

However, the guy's a massive stoner, and will sometimes lose social awareness, which could possibly lead to discomforts in situations with other people; while he's Maggie's #1 guard dog and boundary-setter, when he's had two many hits of the penjamin, he goes into la-la land. I could imagine this causing some tension in the relationship, because he definitely would get too caught up in high-thoughts to realize what Patrick just said to Maggie, but not full-on arguments.

And, that brings us to the others boys. I’m going to be completely honest: Henry and Patrick are not good with people of color, particularly women of color. Patrick is more of a “casual” racist, who drops extremely offensive comments and "jokes" at the drop of a hat, while Henry… well, we know how he treated Mike.

So, Patrick would find every possible thing to say something offensive about when it comes to Maggie, whether it’s her heritage or her religion (and, since the ‘80s is when the priest scandals really started to hit mainstream, bro does not hold back). Henry, on the other hand, would probably not say much to her face, but make snide comments about her mixed ethnicity.

However, as he gets to know her more, he would warm up to her quite a bit. While I'd imagine Henry would say nasty things about Maggie concerning her heritage before her relationship with Vic — while they're in very different social circles, it's not hard to pick out a girl of color in a place like Derry — he would get at least ten shitty comments in.

I'm not gonna lie, the guy has two factors he uses to decide how awful he's going to be, and it's a) is she hot and b) is she the "standard woman": AKA quiet and likeable. If the answer is yes, he will somewhat cease his bigotry. On the outside, Maggie fits the "yes" to both, so she grows on him, and he would have at least one drunken bonding session with her.

That being said, as long as Vic isn't high as a kite, he will fight for Maggie. Our dude will go to war for Maggie. Even with the power dynamics in the group, Victor has made it clear he won't tolerate shit, and everyone respects that (even Hockstetter, in his own Hockstetter way, which... I mean, it's something, but he definitely still is a dick to her).

Belch, on the other hand, has a huge crush on Maggie. Like, huge. Embarrassingly huge. He tries his best to hide it, but he finds Maggie extremely sweet, funny, beautiful, and loves her taste in music — just because the guy's a metalhead doesn't mean he can't get down to some Beatles. Vic is his best friend in the group, so he tries not to let it show, but he always beams when he talks to her and makes an effort to be thoughtful, gentle, and kind to her.

All in all, while there are some canon-typical bumps (*more aggressive coughing* Patrick *even more aggressive coughing*), Victor and Maggie have a very good relationship, and the boys have accepted her (Belch especially). Have fun with them, Mags.

[adrianasreyes]

La Vida De Guadalupe

“Say something in Spanish”. A phrase reverberated throughout my life in a number of different contexts but my experience is not uncommon. It starts from grade school when the white girl who’s forced to sit next to you in class wakes up one day and decides to interrogate you on why you talk like that. She means no harm outside of being an obnoxious third-grader but her impact ripples outside of her intention. You get older and the social pressure gets to you. You lose the warmth and vibrance of your language. Suddenly it sounds as sterile out of your mouth as English does. Simultaneously, you’re becoming conscious of everything about yourself, including your body. You’re much more aware of how your identity is digested and you start keeping mental notes of who sees you as a person and who sees you as a commodity. And while your skin may not be fair, your eyes may not be blue, and you may not be the most conventionally attractive, the attention you start to get doesn’t fully sink in as fetishization. Until you’re asked again, to “say something in Spanish”. This time in the bed of a stranger. Suddenly you're being asked to speak a language as foreign to you as it is to them.

“La Vida de Guadalupe '' represents to me how the hypersexualization of Caribbean and Latin women from a western lens morphs our self-perception and the relationship we have with our cultural identities, thus emphasizing how our experiences through diaspora showcases our oppression. Coming from a Puerto Rican and Mexican household my identity was not something that I saw through an American lens. I had not fully conceptualized how the diaspora that led to my family immigrating to the states impacted my self perception. Within this piece, I attempt to marry both imagery from the roman-catholicism I grew up with within my latin household as well as a self portrait in order to deconstruct the “madonna-whore” complex through the lens of a Latin person combatting how they are perceived through a western lens.

(Dimensions: 20 x 26)

[socalwriterbee]

Something New

This story came from a lovely ask and conversation with a dear friend. Thank you so much @txemrn for the idea to this Holiday treat with our favorite twins!

Book: The Nanny Affair

Characters: Marie Castro (MC), Mason Dalton and Mickey Dalton. Appearances by Carter and Sam Dalton

Rating: Fluff

Word Count: ~3700

Summary: Marie wants to bring a bit of home and the memory of her mother to Sam and the boys with a traditional Christmas dinner she grew up with. Marie gets to chance to show Mason and Mickey how to make tamales. What could go wrong?

A/N: This story came from an ask for a holiday treat. You can find the ask here.

*Characters belong to Pixelberry*

🫔🎄🫔🎄🫔

“Thank you for all your help” I tell Carter as I place the heavy bag of ingredients onto the counter of the kitchen island. “Who would have thought it’d be a bit further to find everything that is needed.”

“I sure didn’t Miss Castro.” Carter replies as he follows behind me with the rest of the bags. “Are you certain you don’t need any help with this?”

Looking up from removing the items from the bags, I see Carter placing the remaining bags with the others. “Yes, yes. I’m fine. Doing this takes me back home. I can’t believe it has taken me this long to think to share it with Sam and the boys.”

“To be fair Miss Castro, the boys and Mr. Dalton are traditional in a sense. Even when Mr. Castro comes, the Daltons have everything planned and ready. Our traditions get swept to the side, of course unintentional.” He chuckles. “And I don’t mind at all, I do have a few hours to spare.”

“Well, I hope to change that. Even if it needs to be done before or after the holiday they’ve known all their lives. We’d compromise on it, switch it up every year, fair enough right?” Smiling warmly at him but I shake my head at his offer. “Use those hours to unwind and relax before we have to pick up Mason and Mickey and Carter—.”

“Yes?” He gives me a questioning look.

“Please call me Marie, I would like to think after a couple years knowing each other we’d be friends.”

“Of course Miss— Marie.” Carter tips his black hat. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” He says before turning on his heel and walking out of the kitchen.

After taking out all the ingredients out, they lay in front of me. The dry corn husks, waiting to be rehydrated. The dark green of the jalapeños, tomatillos, garlic and onion for the green salsa sitting next to my mothers secret to her delicious red salsa, she would make only for this.

The words I said to Carter coming back to me, I really couldn’t believe that it has taken me this long to show Sam and the boys a part of who I am and what both of my parents instilled in me of our family tradition during the holiday. And about the only one that stuck with my mother from being raised in her type Mexican household. 

The images of my mother around the kitchen getting our Christmas dinner ready come to mind as I unwrap the butchers paper that contains the meat for the filling. 

How she and my father would be talking of how many family members were expected that year and if we had gotten enough to feed everyone. Yes, there had always more than enough and how they would remind each other that the following year they’d get the original amount they always said they would.

That never happened.

I could hear my mother’s voice in the kitchen of our family home, ‘Mija, remember we cook the meat first because it takes the longest. Once we get that on the stove, we need hot water to soak the corn husks to make them soft so they can be folded.’

As I have the first two steps going, the bubbling pot of pork, onion and garlic on the stove and steam coming off the soaking corn husks. I turn my attention to the two salsas that need to be made. Plucking out the stems from the jalapeños, I throw them into another awaiting pot. Biting my bottom lip I debate if I should keep it at two or test my luck and go with three hoping that it won’t come out spicy. I go with my gut and toss in that extra jalapeño. After peeling the papery husk from the green tomatillos they go in with the jalapeños and a piece of onion. Covered with enough water, onto the stove they go.

‘Now Marie Isabel. The red salsa is my little secret. Nothing fancy, no three or four dried chiles rehydrated going into a blender with seasonings and such. When it’s made like that the masa tends to absorb the moisture from it and they became dry. And nothing is worse than a dry tamale, ask your father he almost choked on Tia Lupe’s tamales one year.’

My preteen self laughing at the image my mother had set up for me as she moves about the kitchen getting ready to show me her secret. With a can opener in hand, I open the can of tomato sauce, a can of the Mexican spicy tomato sauce. Emptied into the blender with the rehydrated red chile.  

‘But mom I thought you said no dry chiles?’

‘This Marie is mostly for color. It’s gonna give flavor of course but it’s that nice red color it’ll give us in the end too.’

I had just nodded as everything my mother was showing me, sinking in so that one day I could make them and share a piece of my family with a family of my own.

As the minutes turn to an hour going into two, the tamale station I’ve set up is waiting and ready to go. When Carter walks into the kitchen. “It smells amazing in here M..Marie.”

“Thank you but they are not even cooked, heck they aren’t even spread, filled and folded yet! But I do have two forks at the ready for you to try both fillings.” I grin at him, holding up the two forks in my hand. “And be honest tell me what you think.”

Handing them over to Carter, I begin to remove my apron. I checked the time on my watch and it was time for us to collect the boys from their grandparents. As I’m placing the apron over one of the chairs, I hear a small oh my slip from Carter.

“This is incredible. Your mother would be proud, she has taught you well. In this,” He points to the red and green filling. “And in life.”

My eyes glisten at Carters spoken words. “Thank you, that is very sweet of you. Your are going to make me cry. But I assume you have come to get me so we can pick up the twins?”

“Yes and no. I’ve come to let you know I was off to pick up Mason and Mickey and we’d be home shortly after.”

“Are you sure? I could come along to get them, everything here is ready for the next step.”

“Which is an intensive and laboring step. If I go, it will give you time to get something done before they boys arrive.”

Carter was right about that. It would allow me to get some of the tamales ready before Mason and Mickey came home. And knowing the boys well enough, they would like to know and then learn how to make them or see what kind of prank they could pull off with this. It would be a mix of both for sure. “Ok. I’ll stay and get a step ahead.”

“See you shortly Miss Castro.” He calls out.

“Carter!”

“On the clock Miss. On the clock.” He chuckles.

I drop my and shake my head and laugh. You win some you lose some. Grabbing from the drawer my weapon of choice, the spoon, to take down the five pounds of masa that was purchased and begin to slowly make a small dent.

With a small part of the counter space covered with corn husk and masa spread on them, I hear the chime of the elevator announce it’s arrival. Followed closely by two pairs of feet hitting the floor as they run through the penthouse.

“Marie! Marie! You’ll never guess what Grandpa let us do.” Mickey says as his running comes into a halt and eyes everything on the counter, his eyes growing big with awe.

“Yeah, Marie you’ll never—.” Mason follows, bumping into his brother.

“Hey!” Mickey calls out to Mason.

“Sorry.” Mason turns his attention from his brother to me and what’s before us. His eyes widen under his glasses just like his brother.

“What is this?” Mickey steps closer and pokes the end of the husk with his finger.

“And this.” Mason points to the bowl holding the masa.

“This.” I hold up to them. “Is a corn husk and that is masa.”

Both boys turn their head to the side. “What is it for?” They ask in unison.

“I’m using it to make tamales. A traditional food my family made during the holidays. One I’d love to share with you.”

“Oh. We learned about different culture traditions in school before break. Is it something like that?” Mason asks.

“Yes. The two of you came running to tell me something you two did with Grandpa Mason, what was it?” I ask them as I go back to spreading the smooth masa on to the husk. Two sets of eyes watching with amazement as I finish in a few strokes and place it with the others.

“Can we try?” Mickey asks, his voice a whisper.

“You want to learn how to make them?”

They both nod.

“I’d be happy to show you. When I was a bit older than you two are now my mom taught me how to make them.” I smile at them. “Wash your hands and while you do that you two tell me what you did at grandma and grandpa’s house.”

Mason and Mickey both rush to the sink when Mickey turns towards me. “I’ll tell you later. Right now we want to play—make that.”

“Nice save Mick.” I laugh. 

After the boys wash and dry their hands, they take a seat. “Do we get a spoon to?” Mason asks. “And why a spoon?”

Opening the drawer the holds the utensil, I pull out two spoons and hand each of them a spoon. “A spoon for each of you and I don’t know, it’s what my mom used and it’s the way she showed me.”

“What is ma-sa?” Mickey asks as he tries to pronounce the word.

“Hmm…” I ponder. “Best way to explain it would be a dough made from corn. This—.” I tap the bowl that contains the dough for the boys to know what I am explaining to them. “was already prepared. So I could have used it as is or as my mom taught me she’d add a little more ingredients to it to make it the way she liked.”

Mickey goes for an overly filled spoonful of the mix. “What do we do with it? We just plop it on the husk?”

I smile as I watch Mason copy his brother and fill his spoon as well. “No, no plopping. And less dough. We need a good balance of masa to filling. Before we get our spoons full, we need to have a corn husk to put it on.”

The three of us go to reach for one, and each on grabbing one of different a size. Mickey has gotten a large husk, smooth, prefect really. Mason has a smaller one that is a bit more crinkled, going to smooth it out when he pulls it rips.

Mason eyes widening as if he did something wrong, reminding of myself when I tried to the same thing when I was first learning. “That was an accident Marie. I didn’t know it was going to rip. I’ve ruined it.”

“Oh no Mason, sweetie. You didn’t ruin it, not at all. Here take mine.” I hand mine over to him and grab his two pieces now. “We still could use it, to cover the tamales when they are steaming.”

Grabbing another husk for myself, I grab a spoonful of the masa, showing the boys the amount I got and place it in the middle of the husk. “Ok, so now you both get about the same amount I did and place it on your husk.”

Watching as they reach and grab their spoons and copy me. Mason and Mickey both look up when they have done the first step. I smile at them before moving on. “So now with the back of our spoon we are going to thin it out the masa over the husk.” Slowly gliding the spoon and mix from one end to the other and down to the straight edge, giving the boys a clear view of my movements. “ We need to leave the end that sticks up clear, we don’t want any masa there because when we fill it that end will be folded over.”

“Now you try.” Watching as they begin to spread the masa on the husk.

“That’s good you two.” I encourage them to keep going.

“Marie! I got it on my hand.” Mason shows his brother and me. “It feels so cool. You should try it Mickey.”

“Look at mine. Did I do a good job?” Mickey asks.

Eyeing the beginnings of his tamale, I bite the bottom of my lip to fight back a smile but unable to hold it in at seeing what and amazing job he has done. “Such a good job Mickey.”

“You’re right Mason, it is sticky. Do you think we could get it to stick on the ceiling? Or we can get it to explode mixing it with cola and baking soda.” Mickey plays with the masa between his thumb and finger.

“We should totally try it.” Mason answers.

“We will not be doing that. We could come up with another experiment for you to try and no more honey in the shampoo either.”

They both laugh at the latest and most often used prank.

“Now lets get to work. We have all that to spread.” I tell them, pointing back to the mixing bowl.

After spending a good portion of the rest of our afternoon laughing and me going back to give their tamales a bit more evenness, laughing and talking about my life in California. 

Seeing the boys being covered up with more masa on their shirt and not the corn husk and not knowing how they got it in their hair. The excitement of making something new beginning to wear off.

“Guess I got a bit more than needed.” The three of us stare at the counter covered with a mix of red and green tamales. 

“We have a lot.” Mickey says. “What are we going to do with all of them.”

“Well it’s special when these are made, typically around the Christmas season. My mom and dad would tell me that we make them to share with loved ones. Everyone gathering around, like we did, it brings the entire family together talking, laughing just catching up on everything everyone has been up to. We would even make more to share with our neighbors and share the dishes from where our family came from.”

“I have an idea.” Mason speaks up, the spark coming back to his gray eyes. “We could go around and take some to Uncle Robin, Grandma and Grandpa, our friends from school and even Aunt Sofia. We know she could use some cheering up from being grumpy all the time.”

“Yeah. We would be sharing something we made with the people that we love.”

“I think that is a great idea. I’ll make a deal with you two. I will finish up, get these cooking and clean up the kitchen. While you two get cleaned up and changed, pick up your room. And in no time we would have tamales to eat and deliver.”

“How long would that take?” Mason asks.

“They should be ready in an hour and a half. I’ll set a timer for you and it will let us know when to come check on them. Do we have a deal?” I stick out my hand towards them. Watching as the look at each other, their twin connection coming into play before Mickey takes my hand and shakes it, followed by Mickey.

“Deal.” They both say. Hurrying off their chairs and running upstairs.

*****

The beeping of the timer rings through the penthouse. Mason and Mickey running out of their room and into mine and Sam’s ready to check out the tamales we had made.

“They’re ready. Let’s go!” They run out and down the stairs full of excitement.

Following behind them, when the three of us reach the kitchen Mason goes to turn off the timer. Both boys taking a seat waiting for me to present them with what we’ve made. Removing and placing one green and a red tamale on a plate. 

“It’s going to be soft.” I explain to them. “So we have to let it cool a bit so it can firm up. And boys they look incredible. You did an amazing job.”

“Let us see, let us see!” Mickey jumps in his seat.

“Here they are. What do you think?” I smile at them. 

My mother’s recipe, a fond and one of the best memories of my past and a tradition I love, sit in front of two boys who had captivated my heart the moment I saw them with awe and excitement in their eyes, waiting to try what they had a hand in making.

“It smells so good.” Mason says. “Can we try them now?”

“Just a few minutes and then we can. I’m going to take more out of the steamer. Your dad should be getting here soon and we all can have dinner and then go off on our deliveries.”

Turning back to the pots and removing enough for the boys, Sam, Carter and I to have for dinner. Going us the time needed to try the ones I plated earlier.

“Ready?” I grin at Mason and Mickey.

They both nod.

“Grab your plate, unfold the end piece, the one that is folded in and from there open one side and then the other, just like a present. And voilà we have a tamale to eat.”

The boys follow my directions, cutting off a piece with a fork. Blowing on it to cool it off before popping it into their mouth.

“thisissoooogooooodd!” Mason mumbles.

“yeeeaahsoogooood!” Mickey agrees.

“Let me try.” I reach over and take a piece on my fork. Blowing the piece before the savory taste of the cooked masa hits my lips followed by the tanginess and touch of spice from the green salsa takes over. The whole thing melting in my mouth.

“Try this one Mas—.” Mickey tells his brother before reaching over to Mason’s plate. “I don’t know which one I like the most they are both so good.” He says after trying both.

“Marie, can we call Carter and give him some. He is family and we share with family right?” Mason suggests.

“Of course we do. But I was going to invite Carter to eat with us.” I tell him.

“We can present him with what we helped make and he’d love that, wouldn’t he. Like a present, just like you said.” Mason says.

“You two go get Carter so we can show him and give him what you made.” It fills my heart with much more love for those boys hearing how caring they are of everyone they know. As they leave the kitchen the chime of the elevator rings.  

“Hi Dad.” Mason and Mickey call out. 

I could hear them tell Sam that they are off to get Carter. Sam’s footsteps echo and get louder the closer he gets to the kitchen. “Smells amazing in here. What have you been doing?” His deep voice calls from the entry way of the kitchen. 

Closing the space between us, he takes me in his arms and leans in placing a light kiss on my lips. “Hi.” I whisper against his lips.

Sam’s gray eyes holding my mine with a passion that still burns strong between us. “Hi.” He leans in more and gives me a deeper kiss.

Breaking the kiss, I pull back. “I wanted to make something from home. Mason and Mickey helped.” I tell Sam.

Sam eyes the serving plates. “What did you make?” 

“Tamales. One of the many things mom taught me. I thought it would be nice to share and incorporate my traditions here with you and the boys.”

Before Sam could answer Mason and Mickey come running back, pushing Sam and I to get to the serving plate. “Hey!” Sam calls out.

“Sorry Dad but these are for Carter.” Mason says holding a plate while Mickey loads it up. “And after we have to go and deliver to family and friends. Marie already said we could.”

“Do I get any of these?” Sam asks the boys.

“Nope!” Mickey tells him. “We figured it out. Carter gets these. We are taking some to Uncle Robin, Grandma and Grandpa, our friends and Aunt Sofia. After Mason and I eat our share they will be all gone.”

I press my lips together fighting a laugh. Seeing the mock hurt in Sam’s face. I wink at him.

“Sofia gets some and I don’t?”

“Maybe one or Marie can share hers with you. She showed us what she did growing up for the holidays with her mom and dad and how they would share with others even their neighbors and how happy they would be.” Mason tells his dad.

“We liked making them and really happy eating them and Aunt Sofia needs all the holiday cheer she can get.” Mickey adds.

Leaning up and placing my lips close to Sam’s ears. “Don’t worry, I’ll share.”

After all was said and done, in the end Sam, Mickey, Mason, Carter and I passed around the plates piled with steaming tamales from a recipe my mother passed down to me. 

The night had turned out to be the one of the best as happiness coursed through me at being able to share a bit of my mothers memory and bring a taste of home to the family I call my own. 

[thomas-reyes]

Basic Information

Full Name: Thomas Eduardo Reyes

Nickname(s): Tom

Age: 32

Date of Birth: 7th of September

Living in : Kingston upon Thames

Ethnicity: Mexican

Nationality: Mexican Briton

Orientation: token heterosexual

Religion: Catholic (non practicing)

Political Affiliation: Communist

Occupation: Journalist @ the Sun - Contract Assassin

Affiliation : The Jolly Rogers 🐊

Living Arrangements: a 2 bedroom (Kingston upon Thames) with his wife

Language(s) Spoken: English, Spanish, some Italian

Accent: Estuary

Biography

Thomas and his family had moved to London when the boy was only 2 years old. His father, Victor, worked as an architect in a large firm, and when the occasion arose to bring his projects to Europe, he took it, allowing his wife to pursue her dreams of a fashion designing career on the old continent. Both were creative, and that was the one thing they managed to transmit to all of their children. They had another child a few years later, a girl they named Maureen. You couldn’t say that the two Reyes children grew up unloved. Their parents might have not been always home by 5 pm, they took the time to care for their kids whenever they could, and spared no expense when their education was concerned. They lived in Chelsea, and they went to a private school in the same borough, uniforms and all. If Maureen loved the prepiness of it, Thomas was not as big a fan as she was. He was not precisely the straight A student his parents had hoped for (thank God his sister was less of a disappointment in this regard), and he just was too fidgety for anyone’s taste. The teachers would complain about it quite often. He couldn’t stay in place, he couldn’t sit still, he always had a wicked flame dancing in his eyes and a smug smile plastered on his face, and, lastly, he was always putting way too much energy in everything. The icing on the cake came when he broke a teacher’s wrist during dodge ball. An accident, of course. Just like it was purely coincidental that every now and then, he’d come home with stuff in his bag that clearly didn’t belong to him. When asked about it, Thomas would just shrug. He never really could explain how or why he ended up with pens that didn’t have his name on them, or cookies he clearly hadn’t even tried to eat. His family thought they found solace when middle school came to an end and he could finally pick a path that would take him out of those boring classrooms. Most people imagined he’d pick a career in sports. He was quite good at that (even if rowing, boxing and soccer practice failed to get all of the energy out of him), but that would be forgetting about another thing that was just in his nature : creativity. And so, Thomas began writing. Thomas perhaps didn’t pick the most glamorous path, and he certainly made a lot less than his mother or father did, but his parents appreciated a great deal how this improved their relationship with their eldest. For the first time in nearly 15 years, the household was serene. Whether he worked with his employer or spent the day in workshops with his professors, he would come home feeling a lot better, as if the time spent studying and writing had managed to appease him. His parents turned a blind eye now when they found items discarded in the trash can, but not everyone did. Eventually, he stole from the wrong person : a Jolly Roger member who clearly didn’t want to be parted from their personal belongings. Hard to tell whether it was his skilled hands or that fury in his eyes that got him a spot within their ranks but this would have been how he came to start working with them. Hard to tell whether the craft was not meant for him or if he lacked in luck, but on his very first robbery, Thomas ended up having to get rid of an over zealous security guard. The thrill of it far surpassed the way thieving or getting caught red handed felt and what was really a matter of bad luck was taken as an omen by the young man. It wasn’t long before he asked to be trained and taken on those contracts instead. Juggling between his secret life, his ambitions at work, and making sure his wife never ever finds out the truth about him, Thomas might be wearing out the tight rope he walks on.

Headcanons

Thomas was diagnosed with ADHD when he was 9 years old after a teacher insisted that there was more to his struggles than a difficulty to pay attention in class. He has been on medication for it ever since.

His parents had him in all sorts of (stupid) classes and clubs as a kid, but only a few of those are as useful as boxing is to him. He still does  it as a hobby. Thomas finds that it’s one of the few things that make  his head feel empty.  

He still has a bad habit of stealing things from people just because things are within hand’s reach.

Despite a disposition for murder and theft, Thomas can be rather charming. As a matter of fact, he often uses it to distract potential victims.

He has been a supporter of Tottenham FC ever since he was a kid.

FC : Diego Calva

[tab-the-cabbit]

I'm tired of pretending that my grandpa was a saint. He was an absolutely horrible person.

I (26, NB) have taken quite a long time to get over my grandpa's passing away back in 2015. And as of last year, I have come to terms with it. As of this year, I have also come to terms that he was an abusive, controlling, narcissistic, manipulative piece of shit.

My grandpa used to spank me for every little thing that made him mad, even if I didn't know that what I was doing was wrong. The only reason he stopped spanking me was because I eventually grew stronger with time, and his strength faded with age.

My grandpa was severely homophobic. He would go into these fits of rage every time he saw any LGBTQIA+ person on TV, and rant about how they were ruining America. He even made fun of my grandma for watching "Ellen", because Ellen was a lesbian, which prompted my grandma to not watch the show anymore. It was also said that the last time he saw his youngest brother, my grandpa got into a big fight with his youngest brother, because he had come out as gay shortly after their father died. He also threatened to shoot me if I ever came out as LGBTQIA+ when I was 11. Because of this (and my grandma's being a bible thumper, since my grandpa was an atheist), I don't plan on coming out as bisexual until after my grandma dies.

My grandpa was also VERY racist. When I was 6, I had picked up some Spanish from watching "Dora the Explorer", and from playing with other kids my age, who grew up in Spanish-speaking households. When we went to this Mexican buffet, I told the waitress "Thank you" in Spanish, and she actually had a big smile on her face when I thanked her in Spanish. My grandpa was really red in the face. He bent down to my level and whispered aggressively, "Young lady, we do NOT speak Spanish here. This is America. And here in America, we speak ENGLISH. I don't want to hear another word of Spanish come out of your stupid little mouth again." Suffice to say, I've had a tougher time learning Spanish than I did with Japanese.

My grandpa used to look at pretty girls on TV like a lecher. And then every time a gorilla walked on TV on the science channel, he'd point at it and be like, "Hey, look. It's your grandma."

When I was 6, I got into big trouble for bringing an imaginary friend to school. He ended up spanking me for it, and throwing away my favorite VCR tape as a punishment. And then when I was 8, I got spanked for singing "Pancakes, pancakes, eat 'em with a fork" on the school bus.

When I was 6, he yelled at me for telling a boy at Vacation Bible School that I had a big crush on that I wanted to marry him, and embarrassing the boy in the process. He told me off for being "stupid", and that if I did that again, I would be severely punished. This is why I only had 2 crushes during my teen years, and I can't bring up the courage to confess any feelings as an adult.

My grandpa wouldn't let me eat anything with a cartoon mascot when I was growing up, because "only spoiled brats eat those". (He was also diabetic due to the Agent Orange killing his pancreas, so I wasn't allowed to eat anything sugary or anything that appeared in a commercial during a Saturday morning cartoon.) Hence why I have wasted every dollar on any food with a cartoon mascot as an adult, and on Chuck E. Cheese's.

My grandpa often scolded me for getting any B's on my report card, claiming, "You could have gotten all A-pluses. You just don't try hard enough." And when I struggled with math, he'd get mad at me and be all, "This is what happens when you don't pay attention in school, and play stupid games on your stupid Game Boy all day." (I had a PS2 when I was a kid.)

At one point, when I was adamant about not helping him mix the concrete or starting a brush fire, proclaiming, "I'M NOT YOUR SLAVE!" He actually got super pissed, and yelled "GO GET FAT!" while kicking my butt to where I got knocked on the ground. That was the last time he laid his hands on me.

When my grandpa died, I was already living with my dad, who had taken full custody of me the year before. And living with my dad was just as hellish as living with my grandparents.

At first, I'd go into big bouts of depression, because I missed him greatly, and because my grandma was super miserable without him. But over time, and especially this year, I eventually came to my senses, and realized that my grandpa was an abusive prick, and that my grandma was just as bad for allowing him to abuse me like he did, just because it was "how he was raised".

Coming to those terms has brought me a lot of peace of mind, and has strengthened my resolve to move out as soon as possible.

As soon as I move out of my uncle and aunt's place, and get my cat from my grandma, I'm going limited contact with her, keeping in contact only through Facebook messenger, and only visiting twice a year, such as for Christmas and the Family Reunion held every second Sunday of July.

[ohheyitslitz]

i just want to say that reading this literally made me tear up. i love the culture i come from and just like @softle0 said i’m proud of who i am as a person ethnically and culturally. i was SO happy to hear that the newest EP was going to be inspired by mi Mexico Lindo. i was APPALLED when i saw a certain creators “override” i said out loud when i was reading it and just simply said taxis aren’t yellow in mexico but i mean i guess. i grew up in a semi traditional mexican household and even my MOM was excited when i told her the recent pack was inspired by mexico. i had the pleasure of living in mexico for 1 year and it was the best experience ever. we embrace our culture to the max and that’s the best part of being mexican. i never realized how much hate there was for mexicans until this pack came out. it’s frankly heartbreaking and disrespectful to see other cultures get the love us mexicans can even HOPE to get when it comes to our culture. we’re not taco bell mexicans, we’re not chipotle mexicans. we are REAL AUTHENTIC mexicans. going through the pack i almost felt at home with the features that were added in, i was disheartened by the minimal food options but let me just say that wanting “guacamole” as a food option is just plain annoying. yes we eat guacamole but we’re more known for our authentic salsas. let’s all learn to love each and every culture there is to learn about, i’m sure the world would be a better place if we all just learned to be NICE. i’m normally not one to speak on things like this but this touched me and i just needed to say my piece on it.

A little message for mostly YouTube builders but y’all in general, I hope I’m not being too rough but..

I know it’s been just a couple of days but guys what you mean when you say you were expecting more “Mexican” style furniture in the new ep? 😭😭 y’all don’t expect us to have art deco or modern stuff? Like seriously, what do you guys want 😂 We all Mexican simmers think this new pack is very accurate, you can even ask the simmers that worked in the official builds 🤷🏻‍♀️

Y’all really falling over the Americanized cliché of Mexico fr, this pack is inspired in Mexico City. We are a city, the population is like 24million, we’re a really big city 💀 please leave your “villas” and “haciendas” to oasis springs or sol del valey.

Please I beg you to not come and say “oh this is not giving Mexico” cause clearly you don’t know what are you talking about, be educated fr. I said it before and I’m gonna keep talking about it; But the architectural limitations in Mexico are pretty much non-existent. We probably have every single architectural style you can think about. Modern, post-modern, brutalist, art deco, mid century, colonial, Romanesque, gothic among others, probably even Tudor 😭 so you coming and expecting us to only have the villas or colorful haciendas fiesta salsa talcos it really hurts me as Mexican 😂

I’m not hating against them, I love them and as I said we have all types of places so keep doing them if you want but that’s not really common in Mexico City. So why y’all keep going with the same villas or just straight boxes builds 😭 please do more research over than using only Pinterest please, is really not that hard 🙏🏻 there’s a lot of fellow Mexican simmers, there’s google, google maps, you can even do a research of Mexico City in airbnb 😭😭 likeeee there’s a ton of ways to get information really…. You can really step up your building game if you only do a proper research. As I’ve seen a lot of you do for other worlds, why not taking the time for Mexico? Why y’all don’t respect us as much as other cultures?:(

And I know and I understand y’all probably won’t be 100% accurate if you’re not Mexicans but that doesn’t mean you can build a Los Angeles Spanish style of home and get away with it by saying “sorry if is not that accurate” 😭 cause you’re not even trying :( Mind you I been working on a uk inspired save when I never been outside my country other than some places in Canada and Florida and I’m still doing very realistic builds just by doing some research. And I’m 100% sure almost every other realistic builder is in the same situation.

Y’all are amazing and you’re so creative, I love that about the community and I know y’all can do wonderful things if doing a really small but proper research!

And next time you wanna talk about if something is giving or not Mexican at least be educated before talking about something you don’t know, it’s honestly very disrespectful. Y’all are better than that and please don’t take this as an offense, this is more like constructive criticism. I know y’all not doing this on purpose, this is just based on ignorance which is nothing bad, you can always learn something new!🥺 please do better!!

[radiation-run]

Something that has really been bumming me out, is the number of posts where Ramon (and sometimes Helena and even Adriana & Sophia) is depicted as someone spouting visceral homophobia and hatred— without any canonical proof so far—and then tying it to him being Mexican/Latino.

I know maybe the writers didn’t know for absolute sure back in 2x18, when we first met Ramon & Helena, after Shannon’s funeral, that Eddie would be queer; but by 3x15 Eddie Begins, I’m sure they [writers] had an idea of where things would be headed.

When creating a character’s backstory, I think the idea of whether-or-not their father is a massive homophobe, is definitely an important detail. If the creators and writers wanted that for Eddie, I think they would’ve dropped some big hints for us by now.

I’m Latina, I know about machismo culture; Eddie does not show the signs of a closeted queer Latino man who grew up in the environment so many people have been theorizing(?) he grew up in.

Eddie:

loves and respects women (Eddie ‘women are friend-shaped’ Diaz !!!)

continuously tells his son it’s ok to talk about feelings/emotions (both Eddie and Christopher even attend therapy; Eddie is also a big hugger and always initiates hugs/physical contact)

is very independent/does not rely on women to do things for him (I know this is also ties in to military life)

does not start or escalate arguments (he actually tends to apologize or give his classic ‘✋🤚 Eddie Hands’ as a way to de-escalate/avoid conflict)

Does that mean Eddie never acted in any machista way? No, absolutely not! There very-well could’ve been a time where he reflected on his behavior and made a conscious effort to change, and worked hard to unlearn that behavior/mindset (especially after finding out he was going to be a father!) But, realistically speaking, based off of what we’ve seen, I don’t think that’s the case.

We’ll definitely see in the coming episodes, but until it is made canon, I refrain from taking Eddie’s queer repression as a sign that Ramon was aggressively(???) homophobic. I do think for sure, that Ramon made more passive(???) homophobic comments. Which brings in my theory:

I think Ramon could’ve possibly seen (from afar) Eddie and another boy shoulder-bumping & making heart eyes. Whether-on-not, he brought that up with Eddie later on, I’m not sure, but I think that would’ve been Ramon’s “““wake-up call””” that he needs to make it clear(er) to his son that being gay is not an option (especially since Eddie is the only son—and possibly the oldest child.)

I can definitely see Ramon telling Eddie that he needs to “man up,” get married (to a woman) & be the provider for his family, and of course the famous “brush it off, keep moving forward.”

I also think Ramon would’ve kept this all from Helena, because that makes it easier to avoid acknowledging that your son might be gay.

We’ve seen that Helena’s thing is always about keeping the family close together (being around enough that Shannon was “familiar with the tone,” ; Suggesting Eddie & Christopher move in permanently, prior to moving to LA ; Asking Eddie to return to El Paso after Shannon’s funeral)

Sooo, if that’s all true, it’ll be interesting to see Helena’s reaction to Ramon, indirectly, being the reason Eddie distanced himself—and Christopher— from the family (joining the military, moving to LA) though Helena has definitely had her moments lmfao—“Don't drag him down with you, Eddie.”

Eddie has shown signs of someone who experienced childhood emotional abuse, and Ramon & Helena have definitely shown signs of having been emotionally abusive (whether they knew/meant it or not.) But I don’t think the Diaz household was some war-zone-esque level of toxicity and aggression like a lot of people are theorizing it was.

Oof! I don’t know if anyone read this monstrosity of a post, but it feels nice to let it all out 🥹💖

I would really love to hear people’s opinion on this!

[springsfordays]

So @shakingtuna and @notahero-notamoviestar have inspired me to post my BATTS Latine headcanons from this post SO HERE WE GO

To preface most of this is in reference to my human au but really can still be interpreted as regular headcanon to the show anyway lol

Raine is HELLA mixed when it comes to being Latine they’re Mexican-Puerto Rican-Salvadoran-Brazilian

(Yes similar to their VA nwndnsnd)

Raine grew up speaking Spanish pretty much exclusively but caught on English, and even later Portuguese, fairly quickly

PUERTORRIQUENA KATYA!!

Well actually she’s lowkey mixed lol, she has a Russian grandfather hence the hella Russian name. But the rest of her family are Puerto Ricans

Spanish is her first language but she’ll forget time to time how to say certain words and everyone calls her out on it, it bugs her so much lol

She definitely the “weird girl who isn’t like her relatives so doesn’t fit into the family” cousin

Derwin is Blasisn Latino!!

He’s half Afro-Salvadoran, half Mongolian!

He’s really big on celebrating Salvadoran traditions (pops off on all the Saint honoring events and holiday season)

His Spanish, while not his first language, is flawless, all the elders love him

Amber is Mexican! Indigenous rooted Mexican to be exact

Gives off ‘first gen American’ vibes lol

Grew up speaking Spanglish, speaks mostly English however

They all make fun other people in Spanish when they know others can’t understand them lmaoo

Raine grew up in a very mixed dialect household so their Spanish is kind of all over the place

The more time the BATTS spend with Raine and each other the more their own dialects start getting mixed

They’ll be speaking to like a relative or something and they’ll say something off so everyone’s like “????”

“Wait- hold on- THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT”

Listening to Latine music from childhood is what sparked the BATTS love of music

When Raine and Eda get together and the BATTS move in LUZ is suddenly in on everything

Teaches the BATTS about more Dominican/Dominican American traditions

Luz really loves getting to spend time with them all especially when she’s missing her mom

While her hometown does have a Latine community it’s still.. yknow.. Connecticut.. so having similar folks around is welcomed

Luz and Amber really bond over their similar upbringings and language differences from the others

Luz tells Raine embarrassing things about Eda and vice versa in Spanish lol she has no clue

Luz and Katya end up really close because of this. When they talk about fandom stuff especially like weird fanfic Amber gets so annoyed and thinks it’s super weird

Luz and Derwin also bond over being afro-Latino and the experiences they’ve had being “different” from the other kids they grew up around and realizing ‘hey screw them, they’re just jerks’

While Eda is probably the best cook in the house, the BATTS give some dishes they know a try. Eda likes to bother them from time to time

*Raine and Katya making menudo* Eda: *walks into kitchen* Damn it smell like Hispanic up in this bitch. Raine: Callate wey Eda, juro por dios.

This post is like hella long lmaoo but if anyone wants to add please do so!!

[theeangeleudaku]

🦋 Synopsis & Cast 🦋

Angèle Lianne Duplessis is all grown up & determined to let the whole entire world know it. Since shedding her clean cut, good girl image after being cut off by her parents & moving to Los Angeles, Angel, as she’s known to her new found tribe of friends & growing fan base, is strutting down the runway of success & unconventionality in her best pair of Louboutins. She’s on the cusp of truly having everything she’s ever wanted & all while being her free spirited, polyamorus self. Things change when a mysterious man named Erik Stevens comes crashing into her life. Is Erik just the man to show her that maybe she doesn’t have it all together? Is he the one to show her that maybe there’s something bigger she’s missing from her so-called perfect life?

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖘𝖙:

Angel:

Angel is a 24 years old aspiring singer and actress. Born and raised in the city of New Orleans. Angéle, known to most people as Angel, moved to LA one month after her high school graduation and hit the ground running in pursuit of her dreams. While she grew up in a more conservative household, moving to LA allowed Angel the freedom to explore who she truly is: a free spirited, passionate woman with a love of edibles, tattoos, great, intimate connections, good vibes, great experiences, and the arts (music, film, fashion, etc). She also has a temper & leans left in politics. She’s very “namaste, but don’t try me, bitch.”

As for romance, Angel currently practices solo polyamory. What this means is she forms intimate connections with multiple people while maintaining a single lifestyle. This differs from typical non exclusive dating as she doesn’t date new people without the consent and knowledge of her other partners. She also does not date with the intention of eventually forming a committed relationship or having a primary partner. Her main focus is her career & anyone who wants some of her time better get with the program or get left behind.

Mateo Cruz:

Mateo is a 26 year old Mexican American & UCLA graduate. He was born in Mexico, but moved to South LA at the age of 9 with his parents & younger brother, Manny. He’s one of Angel’s best friends and og plug whom she met her very first year in LA. Mateo started off selling weed as a high schooler to bring extra money into the house which would lead him to eventually opening his own dispensary after graduating college with a degree in business management, then two, then 15 across california, colorado, & massachusetts. The two of them have also been dating on and off for the past 3 years & are each other’s first loves. He’s accepting of the fact that Angel is solo polyamorous with no plans for a committed relationship anytime soon. He’s also supportive of her career & hooked her up with her main collaborator & bestie, Blaire Jones.

Blaire Jones:

Blaire is a 24 year old musical extraordinaire from Brooklyn, New York who moved to LA at the age of 21 after graduating from Berklee School of Music. She & Angel met through a mutual friend (Mateo) & became fast friends & collaborators both. Blaire plays 7 instruments & has been said to be the future producer of the decade. She plans to punch any barriers in her way as a female producer down with her bare fists. How did Mateo & Blaire meet? She was a regular at Mateo’s dispensary in Central LA that he hooked up with a few times before she decided he was better as strictly the homie because he’s a little hoe.

Rei Aoki:

28 year old Rei Aoki, a Japanese American from Manhattan, is thee fashionista. Angel & she connected on instagram and became close friends after Angel hired her to style her for a photoshoot 3 years ago. With a passion for fashion, an eye for upcoming trends, & a great sense of humor, it isn’t of any wonder that Angel and Rei are close. She’s already styled big names like Beyoncé & Tessa Thompson, but will always keep her bestie as a client. That’s loyalty, baby! She has dreams of one day creating a fashion label of her own that fuses street style and japanese culture.

Cairo Smith:

31 year old Cairo Smith is a socialite, model, & actor from Houston,Texas. Over the past 3 years, Cairo has risen to fame after getting caught at the club with Zendaya, then on a dinner date with Selena Gomez 6 months later, then in a rumored cheating scandal between him & Rihanna 2 months after that. His notoriety landed him a gig in an Ocean’s 12 reboot and the rest is history. He’s basically the black Pete Davidson, known for bagging A list celeb women & getting a come up while doing it. He has no shame in fucking his way to relevancy.

What started off as a raya date when Angel was about 22 & Cairo was 29, turned into a friendship, then turned into a fwb situation because apparently Angel likes fucking her male friends from time to time. The two are particularly close & it’s through this friendship that Angel finally gets her big break.

Tyla Duplessis:

Tyla is Angel’s 20 year old younger sister. She always knew she’d follow in the footsteps of their supermodel mom, Ayan Duplessis from a very young age. She and Angel share an incredibly close bond, which is why it surprised neither of their parents when Tyla moved to LA to live in the same high rise as her big sister once she turned 18. Tyla enjoys hiking, surfing, and abusing adderall to stay supermodel thin.

Ayan & Noah Duplessis:

Parents of Angéle & Tyla Duplessis. The two of them have been married for over 30 years & chose to raise their children in the city of New Orleans, away from the spotlight & where Noah Duplessis was born & raised, after successful careers as a model & rock & roll singer respectively.

Erik Stevens:

Erik Stevens is a mysterious 31 year old MIT graduate turned navy seal, turned black ops operative, turned arms dealer that was born and raised in Oakland,CA. He’s also in a serious relationship with Nola Reign, a close friend (lowkey a lil more than that) of Angel’s. Between his charm, his African god like looks, & his big dick energy, it isn’t of any wonder that Angel finds herself getting a little caught up in him.

Nola Reign:

Hennessy Aurelié Baptise, also known as Nola Reign, is a 25 year old child prodigy from the beautiful city of New Orleans. A Harvard & MIT graduate. Nola and Angel meet as a result of Nola attending a concert and becoming completely smitten with Angel & viceversa. The two form an instant connection and become fast friends once realizing they have so much in common (a love of the arts, born and raised in New Orleans, creole heritage etc.)

She and Erik are in a serious relationship.

[cassiebones]

Alma Madrigal is such an interesting, well-rounded character. And (if my friends who grew up in predominantly Latine households are correct, which I'm sure they are) very accurate to what a Latine Grandparent is like. I am half-Mexican and my Abuela is my last grandparent but she lives in Mexico so I rarely saw her. I cannot really say how she is (other than damn healthy for a 90yo mother of 13) but my cousins have stories about her that make me think she is pretty similar.

First of all, Abuela Madrigal is hard-working. We know that. She does everything she can to keep things running smoothly in her town. I can only imagine how stressed she was the first five years in her village, a single mom to triplets and pretty much the Mayor of that small town she helped settle. Casita can only help so much. They had to build everything from the ground up and Casita seems to have limits in their power, so the townspeople probably had to use their own hands to gather supplies and put it to use. They did a pretty good job.

Then her kids are given Gifts. Now, she has a daughter who can heal with her food (super helpful to keep the community going), one who can control the weather with her emotions (tricky, but still pretty helpful during times of drought to keep their crops thriving), and a son who can see the future (this can help them prepare for any oncoming threats to the Encanto). All of her children seem to have useful powers, so she nurtures them (teaches Julieta recipes, helps Pepa manage her emotions, and helps Bruno sort through his visions to figure out what they mean) and they start using them to help the village.

It doesn't take long for the village people to start behaving like they're OWED these powers.

Julieta gets it the hardest. She cooks at pretty much all hours just in case somebody is hurt or ill. At first, people come to her with their most serious illnesses and injuries, but eventually it turns to people coming to her with colds and splinters and knocking at the Casita Door well into the night for remedies.

By age 11, she will not take it anymore. She refuses to cook for a full week, stays in her room (which has a small kitchen for her to practice in) and only makes any food for her siblings if they get hurt, but nothing for Alma or the village people bc she is TIRED.

Eventually, Alma realizes that Julieta is correct and makes a deal with her: she only has to make one meal for healing each day. And only those with serious maladies can have some food. No more colds or splinters, unless it's dire. Alma will cook breakfast for the family and they'll help with dinner. And she gets one day off per week where nobody can ask her for any food at all.

Julieta likes this deal and it starts her easier work/life balance, at least until the family begins to grow and she starts being asked to cook a little more to accommodate the growing village (she still gets her day off).

Pepa's emotions are harder to handle, because emotions aren't always logical or easily controlled. When she has tantrums as a little girl, there's not much Alma can do except hold on to her daughter. They come up with calming phrases ("clear skies") to try to help. They work sometimes, but Pepa is an emotional person and she's somewhat quick to anger or upset.

It doesn't help with her mother nitpicks her and Pepa grows some resentment for that and starts to talk back when her mother says "you have a cloud!" Like yeah, no shit, Alma.

On their 15th birthday, Alma gives Pepa the earrings, Julieta her blue apron, and Bruno his green ruana, with the hourglasses on them.

Bruno has the worst deal of all. His room looks to be set up for people to come and hear their fortunes, to line up all the way down that giant staircase, which he has to climb every single day just to get to his bed (which we never see) and it seems to be mostly for everybody else's benefit.

People ask him questions about their relationships and loved ones and their goldfish, and sometimes he doesn't have good predictions. Sometimes the future is not happy. These are the times they'll blame him for their foreshadowed misfortunes, even though it's not his fault at all. He didn't kill anybody's goldfish!

It wears on him as the years go by. People continue to come see him and yet will still talk bad about him in the streets. He hears all the whispers as he walks past.

One day, he locks his bedroom door so not even his sisters can get inside. They sit by his door and talk to him through it, making sure he knows that nothing is his fault, that his visions were not decided by him and that some people just don't understand, but they do. They understand that. It comforts him enough to come out, but he tells his mother that he will not be taking vision requests anymore for trivial things like goldfish or hair. If there's a pressing issue, he'll tell her what the future holds and she can tell the townspeople.

Alma reluctantly agrees to this. The townspeople continue to blame Bruno when bad things happen.

Eventually Julieta finds Agustin, who never asks her for healing food (even though he desperately needs it) and always insists that she eat before him because she is the one who worked so hard on that food. She falls in love with him easily.

Pepa and Félix are old friends and fall more slowly in love, but just as deeply. He's the only one who can truly calm her all the way down and she loves him for it.

Pepa gets married first, but Julieta gets pregnant first. Alma has no idea if these children will also get gifts, so she just focuses on loving on her nietas when they're born. Since Isabela looks more like her, she tends to favor her over Dolores, but she doesn't love either more or less.

Bruno never married. Mainly because nobody in the village wants to marry the 'jinx'. They're all assholes, Bruno; you don't need them.

Anyway, Isa turns five and a door appears for the first time in 28 years. The door knob has her initial and Abuela knows what this means. She doesn't have time to plan a celebration but she makes Isa wait until she can gather a bunch of townspeople to come watch the ceremony.

When Isa touches her door, flowers bloom all around her to the delight of everybody around her. Alma, especially.

Dolores's gift ceremony is 2 months later and her hearing comes on like a rush of water in her ears. It's painful and she puts her hands over her ears to stop it, but eventually the pain goes away and she tells everybody what she can do.

And on it goes. Luisa gets her super strength 3 years later (Abuela sees so much use in this gift and Luisa immediately starts working) and then Camilo turns into Alma the second he touches his doorknob 4 years later, because she's the one he wants to impress with his gift.

When it's Mirabel's turn, Alma tells her about the magic. She is the youngest Madrigal and probably the last of her generation so it has to be good.

But the door disappears as soon as she touches it and Alma begins to panic when the candle flickers in her hands. She sees that same panic in Mirabel's eyes, in everybody's eyes as she turns to the crowd, who are murmuring amongst themselves.

What's her power? Where did the door go? What's happening?

The gift may be fading. Something may be wrong with the miracle.

Or there's something wrong with Mirabel.

She tries not to blame her youngest granddaughter, she really does, but every day is a reminder that she has no gift. The Casita didn't give her a gift. Why? What is happening? Is that why Bruno left?

She starts putting pressure on Pepa for another grandchild. She needs to know that this miracle is still working. But Pepa is 40 and it takes her 5 years to conceive Antonio.

Throughout her pregnancy, Julieta keeps her fed to make sure nothing goes wrong. Antonio is born perfectly healthy, but Alma still worries if he'll get a Gift.

When he does, Alma makes up her mind: there is nothing wrong with the miracle. There is only something wrong with Mirabel.

For years, she has pulled back from her youngest granddaughter for this reason. Because if Casita didn't find her worthy of a gift, there's something obviously wrong with her.

This is obvious when she says "Think of the family!" after the failed proposal. Obviously, she is not (at least at this moment) seeing Mirabel as family. Because Mirabel has no Gift. She's the odd one out. There's something wrong with her.

I don't believe that Alma does this maliciously, though. In the very beginning of the movie, her part of The Family Madrigal says "We pledge to always help those around us, to EARN the miracle that somehow found us."

She doesn't think she deserves this miracle. She thinks that she needs to still learn it, every day, fifty years later. She doesn't believe that she is worthy of this gift, alone. She has to earn it by using her kids and grandkids' gifts to help out those around her. This miracle is literally her life's work. Everything centers on it.

Alma Madrigal puts so much focus on this gift that she doesn't realize that she's the one hurting her family. She thinks that if the miracle is going out, she should focus on the one who doesn't have powers as the cause, not even realizing that SHE also doesn't have any powers.

All Mirabel does is try to help but because Alma can't see past the failed gift ceremony, she just sees her getting in the way. When Alma gets mad or frustrated at Mirabel, the cracks begin to show and she just thinks it's Mirabel's fault because that's who she's angry at and so it makes sense in her brain.

When Mirabel finally tells her the truth, that it's Abuela causing the breaks in the miracle, she finally sees it. She finally sees everything that's been happening all around her. It all makes so much sense. It's all her fault.

Then Mira runs away and you bet your ass Julieta goes OFF on her mother. Julieta has noticed the way her mother treats her youngest daughter for years and I can just see her screaming at Alma with Agustin holding her back and Pepa in the background like "Yup! Tell her!" the whole time.

Finally, the search for Mirabel begins and Alma sees that the mountains have parted since the magic is no longer protecting them from the outside world. She finds Mirabel and tells her the true story rather than the watered down version she's been telling all these years.

It's probably the first time she's described what happened in all the gritty details. Because we have to remember that despite inflicting emotional trauma on her entire family, she experienced serious trauma herself. Señora watched her husband get killed WITH MACHETES, while she held her 3 infants, thinking they were next. She did not expect a miracle (which, btw, was totally Pedro's spirit, fight me) to come and save them all. She just watched her husband die and waited for what she thought was inevitable.

That's trauma. It does not excuse ANY OF THE SHIT SHE PUT HER FAMILY THROUGH THOUGH, ALMA.

Ahem.

Anyway, Alma finally apologizes. She gets her son back and returns to her family. She has so much more to apologize for than what we saw in the movie (DISNEY), and they'll need a good therapist. Because not all is solved instantly like this. They need to work through their trauma, individually and as a family.

Stay tuned for my new series on La Familia Madrigal: Adventures in Therapy.

[renaerys]

Prompt 50. But Berserk & Boomer😔👉👈💕

50. “I thought you left.”

We’re calling this one Unfortunately, She Impressed Him. This is a pair of characters I love with all my heart in any flavor of relationship and can’t wait to write more of in my ongoing multi-chapter fic Trinity House over on AO3.

This fic is part of a prompt challenge that is now closed to new requests, but you can read all the completed submissions here. Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we’re getting creative here.

xxx

Boomer was halfway across the deserted lobby of Faust Keating Rogers, LLP when he realized he’d forgotten his keys at his desk. He groaned aloud because it was 8 p.m. and no one was around to hear him because they had all gone home to their families hours ago like normal people. Boomer didn’t have two to three kids and a house in the suburbs, though, and neither did his boss. The three hour lull reserved for dinner, baths, and bedtimes before the evening work-from-home grind offered him no alternative but to power through. He fully planned to grab take out on his way home and enjoy an episode of whatever was on HBOMax before getting back to the tedious work of reviewing the draft prospectus statement his boss had sent him to proof by tomorrow morning.

Except, his keys were forty floors up and he now had to risk running into her again when he’d managed to slip away so neatly. He’d even removed his tie on the elevator ride down, and now he rubbed his exposed neck, flushed with anxiety over what might happen if she saw him and asked him to stick around to finish the work here.

“Nice going, dumbass,” he lamented as he stepped onto the elevator and hit the button for the fortieth floor.

It wasn’t that Boomer disliked his job. In fact, he didn’t mind it at all. It was better than slinging drinks or waiting tables. He had health insurance, a steady paycheck, and a resumé that could proudly display the name of one of the most elite accounting firms in the country. He could pivot his career if he wanted to, as Brick would say. Boomer wasn’t thinking about his next job right now, though. Right now, he was thinking about this one and how his boss was a hard-ass and a workaholic even if she was brilliant, and how there was a one hundred percent chance she would detect him coming back to his desk (which was annoyingly set up right in front of her office so that he could answer her calls, manage her meetings, and deal with whoever passed close enough to her event horizon to get suckered into the latest heinous audit in need of staffing).

There were his traitorous keys sitting on the desk next to the framed picture of his brothers. He glared at them, as if they were a forgotten household item that had developed a supernatural grudge like in those old Japanese folktales he liked to read online. He half expected them to jingle and alert his boss to his presence, just to spite him.

They didn’t, and he slipped them into his pocket as quietly as could be. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and took a beat. It was quiet. Most of the offices were dark, save for a few poor souls in the large conference room stuck on the ongoing year-end audit for one of the firm’s most important clients: Unicorn, Inc. His boss’s office was also lit up behind her closed door, but she hadn’t called out to him like she would during the day when he got back from his lunch break hoping for a few minutes to catch up on emails in peace before she dumped more work on him.

This, of course, was odd. The small legion of assistants who had come before Boomer were notorious for their short-term employment working this specific desk. The work was demanding and so was the boss, but there was something else that set her apart from other senior associates in the International Tax Services division, something that seemed to intimidate away any support the higher ups sent her way. Denise a couple desks down had warned Boomer not to bring too many personal effects to the office; chances were he wasn’t going to last long. Boomer had smiled thinly and thanked Denise for her advice, and brought the picture of his brothers in the next morning because he had his pride and Brick told him it was healthy to indulge that once in a while. Brick would certainly know.

So here he was, uncertain. Anxiety over having to sit here for another two hours finishing work and having tepid Doordash delivered pulled him toward the elevator and escape, while that annoying, rare pride demanded he check on his boss and make sure she knew he was here to support her, lest she get the idea that he needed to be fired.

The longer he stood there, indecisive, the greater his curiosity grew. What was she doing in there? It was quiet, even when he strained his Super hearing. He could hear Dean Matheson pouring whiskey a few offices down (that guy had a drinking problem and everyone knew they only kept him around because he had the Unicorn, Inc. account), Adebayo Hansou on a conference call with Dubai that was escalating to profanity, Shelly Kim with her head down and typing away at an Excel spreadsheet like a pro. Their assistants were long gone for the night, but here was Boomer, loitering and indecisive and what is she doing in there not yelling at me when she definitely knows I’m here?

He couldn’t take it anymore. He knocked on the closed door—rap, rap, rap—and called out softly, “Berserk?”

A beat, then: “Come in.”

Finding his boss in upward facing dog while still in her pencil skirt was not a sight Boomer was prepared for. Berserk had her eyes closed as she stretched at a near ninety degree angle and listened to music on her Airpods. Boomer had never seen her with her heels off and her mane of red hair thrown together in a messy bun; it was so casual that it was almost obscene.

“You’re staring.”

Fuck, he was staring and now she was looking right at him down her nose, even though she was the one on the floor. He stood up straighter, unable to help himself when she took that tone that reminded him so much of Brick’s when he was about to criticize, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “Sorry.”

She breathed in deeply through her nose and hoisted herself up into downward dog position. “Why are you here?”

Forgot my keys seemed like a really lame excuse that she’d probably laugh at him for, but he also was not in the habit of making shit up on the spot if he hoped to make people believe him. “I forgot my keys.” He took them from his pocket to show her, as if she might not know what keys are, as a concept.

“Smart locks.” Berserk exhaled and slowly walked her hands back on the yoga mat until she reached her feet and began to swing slowly left and right.

Huh? he almost said like an idiot, until he caught himself. “Don’t think my landlord would approve of me installing that.” Also, those things were like $200 a pop, which was not worth the occasional inconvenience and shame of forgetting his keys and then catching his boss doing yoga in her office after hours.

Berserk made some noncommittal sound like whatever, peasant and slowly uncurled upward one vertebra at a time. Boomer realized he was back to staring again, literally lingering in her door watching her and trying to equate this subdued, casual version of Berserk with the terse, no-nonsense businesswoman he was used to dealing with on a daily basis.

When she finally achieved her full height, she popped her neck. The hair that was too short for her bun fell in around her narrow face in a stylish, athleisure sort of way. The top buttons on her blouse were undone. She wore a small, golden necklace he’d never noticed before because he wasn’t in the habit of checking out his boss. “I thought you left.”

The accusatory nature of her words were totally at odds with her flat tone, only the barest hint of curiosity dangling there at the end, like she expected him to respond.

Oh, she expected him to respond.

Boomer took another step into her office because he was full of poor judgment today. “I forgot my keys.”

At which point he showed her his keys again and also had a mild stroke, because what the fuck are you doing, mate?

Berserk smiled. “Yeah, I got that part.”

Was she laughing at him? He had never heard her laugh before, unless it was at Dean Matheson, that comb-over in denial who, in addition to being a high functioning alcoholic, also had a reputation for throwing associates under the bus when a client wasn’t happy.

Boomer smiled back, because that was what he did when people smiled at him, and ‘people’ now included Berserk, apparently.

“Well, since you’re here,” she said as she padded around to her desk.

Crap, there was the work he was afraid of soliciting from her by remaining in the building. He debated an excuse to give her: picking up dry cleaning? Plausible, but transparent. Meeting up with his brothers? No, she’d probably make him stay all night for the chance to ruin Brick’s plans.

“Thai or Mexican?”

Boomer stared dumbly. He was becoming quite good at that (10,000 hours and you can become an expert at anything, they say). “Huh?”

The yoga must have put Berserk in an exceedingly gracious mood, because she actually repeated her question without getting that look on her face like she was picturing him getting trampled by stampeding monsters. “Thai or Mexican? I don’t have a preference.”

Oh.

Oh.

Boomer’s stomach picked that time to snarl at him—8 p.m. and still no dinner, the fiend.

Berserk snorted in laughter and fanned herself with her phone. “Jesus. Mexican it is.”

Which was how Boomer found himself on the small sofa tucked in the corner of Berserk’s office, shoes off and belt loosened, with enough tacos, tamales, and rice and beans to feed a small family. He even had a beer from the mini fridge Berserk kept under her desk.

She hadn’t stayed late to work. Well, she had, but only because she didn’t have a reason to go home.

“I just hate getting home to a dark apartment sometimes,” she said in between bites of food. She had her legs tucked up under her on the sofa close enough to brush Boomer’s thigh if he reached to grab the salsa.

“I thought you lived with your sister?”

“Brute got her own place a few months ago. The arrangement was only temporary while she was in between jobs.”

It was weird knowing so little about a person whose whole family had been in Boomer’s inner orbit since childhood. As far as he knew, Berserk wasn’t close to any of her cousins, not even Blossom. Boomer himself had never been more eager to leave a room than when Brat walked into it. Only Butch, Brute, and Buttercup had ever found common ground among each other once the sworn rivalries and blood feuds of their youth gave way to teenage rebellion against their respective overlord fathers and then the slog of adulthood that was inescapable even for a bunch of Supers flying high on Chemical X.

The fact that Boomer had gotten this job surprised him more than anyone. After drifting from restaurant jobs to office temp placements over the last six years, he’d never thought he would dust off his economics degree and land a temp-to-permanent position that seemed way above his qualifications. And he never thought it would be working for a woman he’d most definitely electrocuted in battle at least a dozen times before puberty.

“What?”

Boomer blinked. He’d been staring again, Jesus Christ. “Sorry, I was just thinking… I didn't know that. I’ve been working here for five months and I don’t actually know much about you at all.”

“Hm.”

Her magenta eyes were wine-dark against the murky sky beyond the window forty stories up. Boomer did avert his gaze this time to reach for the salsa, but he didn’t use it.

“I don’t even know why you invited me to stay for dinner in the office if we’re not going to do any work.”

“Why did you stay?”

“For the free food.”

Berserk grinned—the third time she had smiled at him tonight (or ever). He needed to stop counting; he’d be disappointed when it stopped happening tomorrow.

“Don’t get used to it. Much as I appreciate the company now and again, there’s no need for both of us to be stuck here while Matheson’s breathing down the associates’ necks. Can’t have him poaching you out from under me.”

“Well, I don’t work for him; I work for you.”

“It’s sweet how you don’t understand office politics.” She ate a lone slice of avocado with a fork. “He landed Unicorn back when they were early stage, and back when he was still putting in the work to earn his reputation. But since they IPO’d three years ago and make up twenty percent of our revenue now, he’s just another big name coasting by on associate work. You know he regularly schedules client calls and just doesn’t bother to show up? He forgets half the time, and the other half he’s busy playing golf or buying a yacht or whatever the fuck rich, white Boomers do.”

“Well, as a Boomer myself, I can say I’ve spent exactly zero hours buying yachts.”

She chuckled. Fourth time. “Oh, really.”

“Never even thought of yachts. As far as I’m concerned, they’re not even real.”

“Thanks for your expert opinion.”

“Any time.” Boomer turned his body to face her and draped his arm over the back of the sofa. With only the soft light from the floor lamp in the corner, he imagined himself adrift in the darkness, the sky scraper lights nearby stars. It was a lonely thought, one made romantic in the knowledge that she was here too, and he wasn’t actually alone.

“Matheson almost did poach you, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Boomer couldn’t recall exchanging more than a few words with the man.

“When we were filling support positions. Someone recognized you from the news a few years back, when the Cyclops Monster attacked the marina district and you and your brothers took it out. Matheson got it in his head that you’d be able to work at Super speed and help lower his billables.”

“Wow. Maybe you should’ve let him. What do you think the net savings would be in yacht units of measurement?”

Berserk rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I claimed you before he could get the paperwork in.”

Boomer hyper-focused on that word: claimed. He also pointedly ignored it entirely, much in the same way he ignored the new count of five smiles tonight. “Showed him your bending powers, did you?”

Berserk’s Corona bottle turned frosty under her hand in a totally unnecessary, big dick energy display of said powers, and she took another sip. “No. Sharon from HR likes me. And I promised her I wouldn’t fire you after three months like your predecessors.”

Flattered was not how Boomer would describe the feeling of being claimed by Berserk and eluding Matheson’s vampiric clutches. But he was a bit tickled all the same. This was the woman Butch had once described as essentially Brick, if he were constipated all the time.

And then he realized what she was doing. “Hey, you’re sharing things about yourself.”

She clinked her bottle to his, and Boomer shivered at the frosty chill she transferred on contact. “Aw, you figured it out all by yourself.”

“Ha ha.”

She didn’t quite smile, but she did look kind of serene then, content even, as she lay back against the arm of the sofa and yawned. Her gold necklace—just a simple disk with an engraving Boomer could not make out—reflected the lamp light when she moved. It rested just beneath her collarbone, which had suddenly become the single-most interesting part of Berserk, and oh no, was he interested—

“You’re staring again.”

Son of a bitch.

“Sorry,” he said automatically. “I didn’t mean to.”

Hard no. He was not allowed to be any percent attracted to Berserk. First, she was his boss, and there was a cliché here that, while subverted on the gender role spectrum, was still very risky for both of them. Second, she was Berserk, a fellow Super, cousin to his best friend Bubbles and a shrewd, stiletto bitch in Brick’s estimation, which sounded bad. Not that she was bad, or even evil, unless you counted helping rich corporations accurately report their taxes while taking advantage of the many egregious loopholes in the Internal Revenue Code. Which, okay, point taken, but he also worked here and anyway, people should not be deemed good or evil so much as their choices ought to be—

“Are you thinking about fucking me?”

You shrewd, stiletto bitch!

She was smiling again, and Boomer pathetically logged that as the sixth time, although he wasn’t sure he should count it given the overt malice behind it.

Unfortunately, Boomer was, as had been previously established, very bad at making shit up on the fly. So he miserably said, “Yeah.”

“Hm.”

She sipped her beer slowly, and of course he watched. If it was out in the open, as fleeting a bout of insanity as it may have been, at least he could wallow in it without worrying about appearances.

It was the yoga. That fucking upward facing dog, Jesus Christ.

It was more than that too. Over the last few months, he had worked closely with her, watched her navigate the cutthroat halls full of piranhas like Matheson and other account managers, getting herself work on the best clients while managing her juniors with efficiency and professionalism. She was excellent and sharp, and she demanded excellency and sharpness in kind. After years of going it alone or temping for bosses who didn’t care enough even to learn his name, much less provide him with guidance and mentorship, it was an unspeakable relief to work under someone who knew how to rally the troops. Someone who knew how to lead, how to motivate, and how to reward loyalty with loyalty in return. It didn’t hurt that she looked amazing in her daily stilettos, either.

Unfortunately, she impressed him.

“I have some work to get done tonight.” Berserk stood up and smoothed her skirt.

Boomer scrambled to his feet. “Of course! Um.” He began closing food containers and repackaging them in the bags they’d come in, because he was panicking. “I’ll get rid of the trash. Do you want the leftovers in the fridge?”

“You take them. Otherwise my office will smell like a burrito for a week.”

“Okay.” Numbly, Boomer finished packing everything up, while Berserk made her way back to her desk and logged into her computer to check her emails.

Boomer lingered at the door. “I’ll have the prospectus back to you later tonight.”

“Thanks.”

Wow, way to go, stud.

He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him.

“Boomer?”

“Yeah?”

“Friday is good.”

He stared back at her in expert mode. “Huh?”

Berserk poked her head around the side of her large, external monitor. She was smiling again. Lucky number seven. “For fucking.”

“Okay,” Boomer said.

Okay?!

She pulled back behind her monitor. “I was going to get a cat, but you’ll do much better.”

Because she didn’t like going home to a dark, empty apartment alone. With no one to fuck.

“That was a joke.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he croaked.

Friday is for fucking, he thought, which was delightful alliteration and also completely insane and one hundred percent something he was getting more on board with by the nanosecond.

“See you tomorrow,” she said.

Boomer clutched the leftover Mexican food in his fist. “Okay. Goodnight.”

It took him the time to fly home and put the food away in his small fridge to realize that he had a sort-of date with Berserk lined up for two days from now.

He Y-posed at the window and whooped, “Hell yes!!”

Loud pounding in the floor followed by old Mrs. Cruikshank’s muffled Keep it down! couldn’t bring down his mood.

Boomer leaped onto his threadbare, living room sofa with his work laptop and took to the prospectus with alacrity. He’d send over superior work product and make Berserk’s job just that much easier tomorrow morning.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House (which has a lot more Berserk and Boomer content, btw!) and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

[rockislandadultreads]

Mexican American Women: Authors (Fic and NonFic)

The Distance Between Us by Reyna Grande

When Reyna Grande’s father leaves his wife and three children behind in a village in Mexico to make the dangerous trek across the border to the United States, he promises he will soon return from “El Otro Lado” (The Other Side) with enough money to build them a dream house where they can all live together. His promises become harder to believe as months turn into years. When he summons his wife to join him, Reyna and her siblings are deposited in the already overburdened household of their stern, unsmiling grandmother. The three siblings are forced to look out for themselves; in childish games they find a way to forget the pain of abandonment and learn to solve very adult problems. When their mother at last returns, the reunion sets the stage for a dramatic new chapter in Reyna’s young life: her own journey to “El Otro Lado” to live with the man who has haunted her imagination for years, her long-absent father. In this extraordinary memoir, award-winning writer Reyna Grande vividly brings to life her tumultuous early years, capturing all the confusion and contradictions of childhood, especially one spent torn between two parents and two countries. Elated when she feels the glow of her father’s love and approval, Reyna knows that at any moment he might turn angry or violent. Only in books and music and her rich imaginary life does she find solace, a momentary refuge from a world in which every place feels like “El Otro Lado.” The Distance Between Us captures one girl’s passage from childhood to adolescence and beyond. A funny, heartbreaking, lyrical story, it reminds us that the joys and sorrows of childhood are always with us, invisible to the eye but imprinted on the heart, forever calling out to us of those places we first called home.

A House of My Own: Stories from My Life by Sandra Cisneros

From the beloved author of The House on Mango Street: a richly illustrated compilation of true stories and nonfiction pieces that, taken together, form a jigsaw autobiography: an intimate album of a literary legend's life and career. From the Chicago neighborhoods where she grew up and set her groundbreaking The House on Mango Street to her abode in Mexico, in a region where "my ancestors lived for centuries," the places Sandra Cisneros has lived have provided inspiration for her now-classic works of fiction and poetry. But a house of her own, where she could truly take root, has eluded her. With this collection—spanning nearly three decades, and including never-before-published work—Cisneros has come home at last. Ranging from the private (her parents' loving and tempestuous marriage) to the political (a rallying cry for one woman's liberty in Sarajevo) to the literary (a tribute to Marguerite Duras), and written with her trademark sensitivity and honesty, these poignant, unforgettable pieces give us not only her most transformative memories but also a revelation of her artistic and intellectual influences. Here is an exuberant, deeply moving celebration of a life in writing lived to the fullest—an important milestone in a storied career.

Caramelo by Sandra Cisneros

Every year, Ceyala "Lala" Reyes' family--aunts, uncles, mothers, fathers, and Lala's six older brothers--packs up three cars and, in a wild ride, drive from Chicago to the Little Grandfather and Awful Grandmother's house in Mexico City for the summer. Struggling to find a voice above the boom of her brothers and to understand her place on this side of the border and that, Lala is a shrewd observer of family life. But when she starts telling the Awful Grandmother's life story, seeking clues to how she got to be so awful, grandmother accuses Lala of exaggerating. Soon, a multigenerational family narrative turns into a whirlwind exploration of storytelling, lies, and life. Like the cherished rebozo, or shawl, that has been passed down through generations of Reyes women, Caramelo is alive with the vibrations of history, family, and love.

The Hummingbird's Daughter by Luis Alberto Urrea

The prizewinning writer Luis Alberto Urrea's long-awaited novel is an epic mystical drama of a young woman's sudden sainthood in late 19th-century Mexico. It is 1889, and the civil war is brewing in Mexico. Sixteen year old Teresita, illegitimate but beloved daughter of the wealthy and powerful rancher Don Tomas Urrea, wakes from the strangest dream - a dream that she has died. Only it was not a dream. This passionate and rebellious young woman has arisen from the dead with the power to heal - but it will take all her faith to endure the trials that await her and her family now that she has become the Saint of Cabora. The Hummingbird's Daughter is a vast, hugely satisfying novel of love and loss, joy and pain. Two decades in the writing, this is the masterpiece that Luis Alberto Urrea has been building up to.

[mistystar022100]

More Bleach x Tokyo Ghoul au

More Characters

Orihime

Orihime is a natural one-eyed ghoul with a Rinkaku kagune. Orihime in cannon has basically one offensive ability that is broken for a whole arc and then rarely used for the sake of defense and healing. Personally, I thought she could have done more so I’m fixing this myself. Her kagune has 2 tentacles that she can use for offensive. Her Shun Shun Rika will be for the healing and shield, the attacking fairy will not be used often unless she needs a long ranged attack.

The reason for her being a one-eyed ghoul is so she could still eat human food. Her weird food combinations are a part of her character and I thought it wouldn’t be right to take that from her. It also doesn’t hurt that Orihime constantly eating food is a good cover for when the ghoul group hangs out at school. The fact that her brother was a human makes for an interesting dynamic as well.

As a half ghoul she can eat human food as much as she wants. The genetic combination may have messed with her taste buds, resulting in the strange food. She can taste it but the human food gives her almost no nutritional value. She has to eat like a ghoul in order to sustain herself.

Her main ability is in her regeneration, which is high even for a Rinkaku. Even though her kagune is fairly weak and easy to cut off, they grow back very quickly. This also applies to any injuries she takes; for example getting completely flattened by a speeding car will only take her a few hours to completely regenerate from; as long as she’s feed.

Her father was a ghoul and her mother was a human. Her mother left Sora’s father, who was a human, for Orihime’s father, a ghoul. Sora and Orihime were half siblings. After her father was killed by the CCG and her mother became an alcoholic, Sora took her and moved to Karakura. Sora at first feed her dead homeless people who he would find until he was approached by Isshin and the other adult ghouls in town who took that responsibility out of his hands. After Sora’s death, Orihime became very close to the Ishida and Kurosaki families. The fathers would make sure she was feed and the kids would make sure she wasn’t lonely.

Uryu

Uryu is an Ukaku type ghoul. His kagune is used in tandem with his quincy arrows for more projectiles and the speed boast is helpful for him to avoid attacks. Since Ryuken is still unhelpful with training him as a quincy, he at least trains Uryu as a ghoul. They still have a horrible relationship but at least they see each other now.

Since all the ghouls in town are relatively close, he is well aware that he and the Kurosaki kids are basically cousins. (Are they really though cause the relations between Masaki and Ryuken have always confused me? No matter, cousins is close enough) Mostly Yuzu (Karin absolutely does not admit to helping), convinces Uryu to visit the Kurosaki household every once in a while. Yuzu calls him cousin, Karin does when she’s happy and Ichigo only calls him that when he needs Uryu to listen to him. Isshin tries to make Uryu call him Uncle but Uryu has picked up some things from Ichigo and smacks him around when he’s being annoying; he will call Isshin uncle on special occasions though.

Due to how tight knit the ghouls in town are, Uryu is friends with the Karakura teens long before the story begins. Him, Ichigo, Orihime, and Chad sit on the roof during lunch at school. He tolerates the presence of Tatsuki and Keigo but finds them both annoying.

Once Uryu learns how to sew, he becomes the mask maker in town. Considering the small ghoul population he doesn’t have to make or fix masks that often but he does get annoyed when someone tells him they broke the mask. (All the individual masks will be another post, mainly because some still haven’t been decided)

Ryuken

Like his son, Ryuken is an Ukaku type ghoul. He still despises being “the Last Quincy” but accepts that he is a ghoul. He makes sure Uryu is prepared for the hostile world against ghouls but otherwise is still distant. Later trains Yuzu in Quincy abilities but only because Masaki asked him to before her death. He later passes this on to Uryu because he is not the best teacher.

Since he works at the hospital he needed a way to keep his kakugan from activating. Through the efforts of both him and Isshin, they annoyed Urahara so much that he made them an oral medication that prevents the kakugan from activating for a time. This is why the fathers can both work in hospitals and smell blood without people suspecting them. After all no one is going to suspect a ghoul is working at a hospital.

He provides the ghouls main source of food. When a body is in the morgue of his hospital, he contacts Urahara who replaces it with a cheap inflatable Gigai. This Gigai lasts just long enough for the funeral so the stolen bodies are never discovered. He first makes sure Uryu is feed, then Orihime and then gives the rest to the Kurosaki’s. If not enough dead bodies come in for the month then Isshin leaves town and hunts while telling others he’s at a medical conference.

Ryuken’s ghoul identity is “Plague Doctor” due to his mask. He is the second ghoul being suspected of owning Karakura town. An A ranked ghoul due to his speed and projectile weapons, he is SS ranked when working with Isshin “Flame Oni”. He hates how in sync they are but tolerates it for the safely of the town.

Occasionally joins Uryu in visiting the Kurosaki’s. He only stays for a short while to talk to Isshin about whatever important things are going on, such as taking care of all the kids. Yuzu is happy her Uncle is visiting, Karin doesn’t really care and Ichigo likes to call him out on being an emotionally distant father. Uryu proceeds to tell him to shut up, sometimes leading to brawls in the living room.

Chad

Chad is a human with a Kokaku type quinque. It’s 2 gauntlets that connect through a long chain in the middle which goes over his arms and back. It makes his fullbring even stronger when using it. It was made from his abuelo’s greatest kill as a CCG Dove (a S ranked ghoul).

He carries the quinque case in a disguise bag for 2 reasons. The first is that owning a quinque outside the CCG is illegal and he won’t let anyone take his abuelo’s gift to him. The second reason is that the quinque makes his friends very uncomfortable so he disguises it out of respect for them. He uses a larger version of his high school bag to disguise it and carries it or uses the straps to wear it like a backpack.

When he moved to Karakura he saw Ichigo in the original thug beat down at the bridge. After that day, Chad was attacked by a passing ghoul who thought he looked tasty (Ichigo was preoccupied in a store). Chad got out his quinque despite never being thought how to use it but was loosing and had heavy wounds from his enemies kagune. Ichigo came back to the sounds of fighting and attacked the ghoul with his kagune. After the fight Ichigo only then realized Chad had a quinque and froze in place out of panic. Chad put the weapons away and limped over to Ichigo to help clean the blood off him. Chad really didn’t care that his friend was a ghoul, especially since said friend just saved his life.

Ichigo took Chad home and after getting patched up by Isshin, Chad became an honorary member of the ghouls. He joined them for monthly training considering he had no idea how to use his quinque and the adults would not have this rarely kind human die. He got a mask so he could use his quinque and not get recognized. He also has a costume that covers most of his body considering a half-Mexican and half-Japanese man is very easy to recognize, especially outside of a big city.

He is just the best ghoul ally. He is a very quiet individual but he will not stay silent when someone (mainly Tatsuki) is insulting ghouls in front of him or his friends. For a man of few words his words can sure pack a punch.

Tatsuki

Tatsuki is a human and doesn’t have the best image of ghouls. After Masaki’s death and Isshin being lost in his grief, a ghoul came into town and killed Tatsuki’s father. Ryuken “took care of” the offender and was the reason Isshin got off his ass.

Since beginning high school, Tatsuki has been in a CCG program over the weekends. She adds on to her pre-existing martial arts skills and is working her way up to learning quinque combat. Her quinque would be a bikaku that is a serrated edge sword and can stretch into a whip when needed. The whip is used to hold ghouls in place as the hooked spikes cause more damage when being taken out.

Tatsuki is still friends with Orihime and Ichigo. Orihime is her best friend and they share dinner quite often. When Tatsuki starts with the ghoul hate speech, Ichigo tells her to talk about something else or he’s leaving. Orihime kinds shuts down and starts doing something else to distract herself. Tatsuki is so caught up in her rage and grief that she normally doesn’t notice when Orihime does this. She gets frustrated with Ichigo but doesn’t stay mad at him.

Urahara

Urahara is a “human” with a vast knowledge of ghouls. He is the reason the CCG ignores Karakura for as long as it does. He hacks into the data base whenever something that might be important occurs (someone having to use their kagune and there’s a security camera nearby) and deletes the data. The CCG eventually figured out that someone is wiping the data and sends Doves to investigate the town. But that’s a whole other story arc.

Jinta and Ururu are failed half ghoul experiments that he may or may not have liberated from the CCG as kids. At first he took them to examine their DNA but he grew to love them. The weird genetics has taken a toll on the kid’s bodies; Jinta needs hearing aids and Ururu wears glasses. Urahara however does him best to keep the kids healthy.

As a man of science, he has taken the liberty of getting DNA samples of all the ghouls in town as the data on ghouls is limited to the CCG’s propaganda. He may or may not want to make his own half ghoul some day (or do it to himself); all in the name of science.

His shop sells all sorts of items that the ghouls may need. It is also the place where the ghouls have their monthly meetings. Most of the kids are suspicious of Urahara since he is clearly “human”. Ryuken and Isshin trust him though so that’s good enough for the kids, at least for now.

[heartscfvalor]

Introducing: Dorothea (Tea) Borelli

But how do you wait for heaven And who has that much time And how do you keep your feet on the ground When you know That you were born, you were born to fly

The long lost twin sister to Tiegan Borelli, Dorothea (Tea) Akilah Borelli-Hernandez is a young witch who survived an abusive household from her biological mother, separated from her brother in foster care, and then adopted by the Hernandez family, Juan and Kiesha, and is the youngest of their five adopted children; her eldest adopted sister, Gianna, was starting high school when Tea was added to the family at nine years old, while her brothers Jeremy and Milo, the twins, and Vincent were in middle school.

Tea (also known as Dory or Ro) grew up in New Orleans, Louisiana, in one of the upper class neighborhoods, helping her adopted family continue fostering other foster children, as Juan and Kiesha had very high paying jobs and big warm hearts. She became fluent in Spanish due to her father being from a Mexican family, and their family reunions are always full of love and food and family.

Bubbly, outgoing and uncommonly kind, Tea has a sort of aura that brings people around her to be nearby in hopes of catching a smile or even a greeting from her in passing. She had a lot of friends, always picking the best people to be in her inner circle, and her favorite past time is learning details about new people in order to make them feel welcomed by putting that information to good use.

At the age of thirteen, like many White Witches before her, Tea’s magical abilities began to make themselves known following the first full moon of her birthday. Learning to control and hone these powers was a slightly difficult process, but Tea has poured her energy into gardening and cooking, so every plant she cares for thrives, and her cooking always has that special hint of something special, no matter how complicated the recipe. She dreams to someday enter the medical career to use her magic to help people, but for the time being, she is content with taking a job at the local bakery, where every batch she makes comes out absolutely perfect.

Tea is aware that she has a twin brother she lost contact with due to being separated at such a young crucial age. By eighteen, she is fully into the swing of trying to search for him, but Tiegan is notoriously hard to find when he doesn’t want to be found. She can only hope that someday they can be reunited, and they can be a proper family again.

FC is Vanes.sa H.udgens