#and I know that there are Native American foods that were really here first

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I would say that the United States, as of right now, has three main food groups (aside from junk food) and those are, Italian, Mexican, and Chinese. All of which have been Americanized here to some extent but differently in different parts of the country. I find this very funny because I have heard people from Italy be indignant about what we’ve done with the stuff (and about good restaurants too!) like, sorry if you guys weren’t creative, mixing things up a bit is great. “What about (regionally popular food)?!” I know we all have those, I haven’t heard of bitches in the south eating lefse, but that’s not my point! What was my point actually? I think I was going to say that, even if we bastardize stuff a lot, I’m super glad we have, as a country, agreed that more seasoning is good. Because if this place had been like “fuck immigrant food forever, we are eating British style” I think I would die.

This country has historically treated immigrants like shit, but we do tend to cave eventually and go like “actually,

your food is really good” a kind of shallow prize I guess, but I’m glad we actually start doing it eventually because I WILL mock British food and I WILL be sad that the only good family recipes my family has from before immigrating are all desserts. Don’t get me wrong, I love sweets, but I’m pretty sure there is a reason we stopped making other stuff

Wait, I re-read this today and realized I sound like my family is British. We are not. What even are British desserts? I bet they don’t have enough cardamom. Although lefse doesn’t have cardamom and i like a lot of things without it, my point is that their holiday and special event foods probably don’t have enough! Which wouldn’t surprise me tbh because apparently the only place that went crazy for the stuff outside of where it originated seems to have been Scandinavia for some reason. At least some maps I looked at seemed to suggest it. Which rocked me to my core

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Sinful

Daryl Dixon x Reader | SMUT

Many years of pretending to be a nun builds up quite the frustration.

~~☆☆☆~~

You didn't speak one word French and you despised religion.

You were on a sightseeing trip with friends when the world went to shit and by pure accident you ran into the one place that had you lying your ass off to be able to survive.

Wait no, you did know a few French words.

"Je ne parlez pas Francais. Englais?" You held your hands up in apology as you excused yourself for not speaking their language. With few words and lots of gestures you were let in and brought to the person who spoke the most English where you continued your lies. Some fake tears and religious hand gestures as you cried in your native language none of them spoke, only to add some more apologies at the end. You were let in as long as you followed their beliefs and eventually made yourself into a part of their supply run group.

Just as you were then brought to the one who could communicate with you best, you were now called to the central area to meet with a man who spoke only English.

An American, he said. An absolutely gorgeous one, you thought.

Even though he looked a mess he was very handsome and you couldn't help but think up a plan to get him alone with you.

You discussed today's plans for the man with your sisters and sent them on their way.

You took the man to an unused room so he could get cleaned up while your sisters washed his clothes and prepared food for him.

"How come yer english is so good?" You didn't expect that to be his first question. "We were taught English in school before the world went to shit. Top of my class too." You happily explained as you ran him a bath.

"Put your clothes in here," you motioned to the basket next to the filled tub. "I'll go take them to get cleaned and bring you a change of clothes and some towels."

He did as you asked and called you over once he was all the way in the water. Once you returned he had cleaned himself up and was enjoying the fact he could relax again for once. You announced your presence by knocking on the door before going in and closing it again behind you. "I got you some clothes. Nothing too fancy but it'll do."

He followed your form around the room, quickly catching how hard you were trying not to stare at him. "If yer uncomfortable ya can wait outside. Call ya back when I'm dressed." His comment caught you off guard and had you turn to face him before even coming up with a reply. "Oh, no. Not uncomfortable at all.." you stammered, sighing and sitting down you started the tale of how you ended up here. "Just as unlucky as I was huh." He smiled at your confession. "Hand me a towel?" You did as he asked and he took the towel to his hips and stepped out of the tub. You were still eyeing everything except for him with a clearly frustrated aura surrounding you.

"What's on yer mind, girly? I know ya aint' lookin' away cuz of god." He knew why, he just wanted you to admit it.

He stepped closer to you, entertaining some stupid tale that surfaced in his mind, narrated by his brother who bragged about the best sex he's ever had with some chick in a nun costume during Halloween.

"You're.. just very handsome." You talked fast in the hope he'd drop it but he clearly wasn't going to. "I aint' exactly yer age.." Even with your loose layers on your squirming was caught easily and you knew he knew. "You're a really good looking man and I don't care that you're probably as old as my dad would be now or if you end up being dangerous I just really want you to fuck me until I see god for real this time, okay?" A frustrated huff ended your ramble before you felt his breath fanning your cheek as he spoke. "Fine by me. So where d'ya wan' it?" He stood behind you with one hand on your hip and the other pointing out different locations in the room. "How 'bout I bend ya over tha' desk, huh? Tha' bed is lookin' mighty fine, an' 'msure tha' rug won't hurt yer knees." His hand came back to rest on your hip.

"Y-- Yes." You were suddenly very aware of his figure pressed against your back and his hands pulling up the layers of your habit. "Yes, what?" His lips were on your neck right after removing the obstructing fabrics. You only nodded in response, which was taken as a yes to all options he suggested and pressed you to walk with him towards the desk before pressing your chest against the wooden surface and running his hands over your panty covered ass. A hand ran up your spine to unclasp your bra while the other pulled your panties down before pressing his hard member against you.

You let out a soft whine and pressed back against him, almost begging him to get going already.

"Impatient, are we? What would yer friends think if they saw ya here with me?" He rubbed his length between your folds, covering himself in your slick and line himself up at your entrance.

"Please.." you pushed back against him hoping he'd just start but the roll of your hips wasn't enough to push him past your entrance. "Wha' was tha'? Wanna confess yer sins to father Dixon?"

"Pleease fuck me--ohgod.." your breath caught in your throat and your hands clamped around the edge of the old wooden desk as he pushed his full length in without a warning. Your face pressed into the your arm to not scream at the stretch. He gave you no time to adjust and set a steady pace. One hand reaching down between your legs to rub at your clit, an apology for not prepping you before while the other kept your hips in place.

You hadn't felt this deliciously full in years and the way his tip hit that spongey spot inside you with every thrust combined with the stimulation of your clit has you close to seeing stars in record time.

You pushed your hips back with each thrust, begging to cum. "Fuck-- so close.." Your words came out as breathy whimpers that spurred Daryl on even more and had you cumming over his cock in a matter of moments. His thrusts slowed before stopping entirely to give both of you a second to catch your breath and move over to the next piece of furniture.

You were easily picked up and manhandled onto the bed, where you were thrown onto your back before he crawled over you and caught your lips in his.

"Fuck, yer so gorgeous." He mused as he kissed down your neck, leaving red marks all over your chest and sucked on your tits. His trail of bites and licks kept moving south until he reached right down your bellybutton. Wrapping his strong arms around your thighs he spread you wide open and licked a thick stripe right over your folds, pulling a loud, muffled moan from you. "Gotta keep quiet, lil' lady. Dun' want yer friends ta hear ya.." He smirked up at you before delving right in, tongue deep inside of you with his nose pressed against your clit. He lapped up every single drop that threatened to spill, like he hadn't been fed in ages. "Taste so good." He loved how you tried to squirm out of his grasp as you quickly approached another orgasm. The rumble of his laugh sending you even closer as he sucked at your clit and send you over the edge again.

Daryl wiped his face with his hand before moving up and wrapped your legs around his waist. "Ya still good?" He caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers.

You nodded with a soft, breathy laugh and wiggled your hips against him. He nodded back at you and lined himself up with you again, pressing in slowly and admiring every reaction your body gave underneath him. His pace was much softer than at the desk and it gave you a moment to really look at the man above you as well. It gave you a chance to really grab and scratch at every inch of skin within reach as your heels pulled him in deeper and helped him set a pace you really enjoyed. The soft sighs that left you with every thrust, right at his ear and the soft fingers in his hair together with the light scratches right at his tailbone had him groaning out in pleasure. "Hah.. keep doin' tha'.." He grunted into the crook of your neck.

You dug your nails harder into his skin and tugged at the messy strands at the back of his neck, moaning just a little louder and bucking your hips to meet his thrusts.

You could feel his thrusts getting more erratic and his fingers moving between you to to pull you over the edge with him. With only a few more thrusts and rubs you both finished, riding out your highs.

"That was.. wow." A shaky laugh left you as you rolled over to look at him. "Ya think I'm done with ya already?" His cocky attitude worked like magic and had you intrigued at what he still had in store for you.

"Haven't fucked ya on tha' old carpet yet." He nodded at the floor at the end of the bed. "Wantya ta ride me." His request was clear, and you were in no mood to decline.

You stretched and got up, moving over to the end of the bed. You felt both your release running down your thighs, running your finger over the inside of the soft legs you scooped up some of it and sucked your fingers clean as you kept your eyes on him.

Daryl let out a deep growl as he got up to grab you and pull you down to the floor.

Your face was harshly pressed into the soft rug. With your hips still up Daryl had the perfect angle to ravage you.

"Ya like teasin' huh." His grumbling was your new favorite sound.

He rubbed his cock between your thighs, smearing your cum all over you both. One hand held you hips up as the other drew soft circles over your asscheek. His touch left you before being returned with a loud smack right to the soft flesh. A whine left your throat at the harsh contact, but that didn't stop him from repeating the motion twice more. "'S whatcha get fer bein' a tease."

He went back to caressing the struck skin softly and pressing the tip of his cock between your folds and starting at a rough pace, easily fucking into your overstimulated cunt.

"Ohh ahpleaaseee slowdown-" his pace was so rough your orgasm crashed into you before you even had a chance to realize you were getting close.

With a chuckle that borderlined on sadistic Daryl pulled out and maneuvered you with your wobbly legs on top of him. He held you up right above him and pulled you down onto his cock, thrusting up a couple of times before stilling.

Only a command of "Ride." left his lips as his hands stilled on your ass, squeezing hard to spur you on. Your body was tired, you had barely any strength left after god knows how many orgasms you had by now and you had no idea if you could keep up with his desired pace.

You placed your hands flat on his chest and lifted yourself up before sinking down again with a huff a few times before whining in exhaustion. "Daryl.." you wanted to beg him to fuck you and get it over with but he wasn't having any of it. His hands on your ass grab on harshly and lift your hips for you and starts fucking himself with you. "Ya feel so good, squeezin' me like tha'.." You couldn't help it you were so overstimulated your body worked on its own. "F-- fill me so good.." you managed to breathe out between thrusts. "Wanna cum.. please.."

Daryl let go of your hip to rub at your clit to help you reach your high. Your pleased noises were like music in his ears. He loved all your tells that let him know you were close. You were squeezing him so tightly he had a hard time to hold off until you finished.

"C'mon doll. One more time.." His thumb rubbed at your sensitive nub a couple of times until your walls clamped around his cock so hard he came right there with you, spilling deep.

"Yeah, fuck seeing god." Your slumped on top of Daryl with an Oof. "I wanna see you all day every day."

Daryl's laugh rumbled against your ear and he kissed your head. "Got more sins to share with father Dixon?" He air quotes the name.

You nodded against his chest.

"Got some years of catching up to do."

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: I know I used this prompt alreasy but I wanted to turn that quick drabble into a full fic lol.

[ayeforscotland]

Ah wait, I've got something for you in relation to white American fetishisation of Scotland and other European countries (because unfortunately it's not just Scottland, it's everyone.)

(And this is just an opinion, I have no science to back this up. That must be stated first and foremost.)

To achieve American Whiteness ment that many Europeans immigrating to the states had to shed their cultures in order to be accepted by Anglo European decendents. If you weren't the 'right' type of white then you weren't good enough and were often pushed out.

As such, these people, too, were forced to shed their cultural identity in order to make a living here.

Now, these diverse cultures are celebrated (to a point.) There's celebrations that come from these iterations of faith, foods and dress that come from these homelands, but they're strange derivatives of themselves. Xerox of a xerox of a xerox, made only by a cultural machine that doesn't really understand or want you, but loves the aesthetic of some small component of you, so it takes that, all while simultaneously craving it could be more.

And so NOW that it is no longer 'bad' to be decended from these places, NOW people try to claw their way back, like they're attempting to undo the damage the previous generations did to themselves in order to fit into White American Society, but they have no idea how and so it becomes a crass and ugly thing, often monetized by the same origional Anglo European sphere of influence that put them in this predicament anyway, and then further pits them against NEW people trying to make it here in the states.

(And to that last point, I have to recommend reading an amazing comic in the Nib by Dawson, Why Did They Come, in order to touch on how fucked up that whole thing is (not that we don't already know.) https://thenib.com/why-did-they-come/

But yeah... to summarize- immigrants now seen as acceptably white in the states originally WASN'T and so these people bleached themselves culturally to achieve the Anglo vibe, and now generations later, their decendents cling to fabrications of a culture they were denied in the most grotesque ways imaginable because they know nothing else.

It's like white bread trying to reintroduce culture to itself to become whole wheat again, only to end up giving itself mold.

Some great points there, particularly around the bastardisation of forgotten traditions etc.

I'd be keen to see some evidence of Scottish immigrants to the US being perceived the same way as, for example, Irish or Italian immigrants who eventually became accepted into 'American Whiteness'. Also while many Scottish immigrants who moved to America were poorer, I've never heard of them facing the same challenges as other European immigrants who were perceived as non-white. I expect a large part of that was being part of the British Empire. There was also a disproportionate number of Scots were plantation owners who owned slaves in the south. And while some historians dispute it's origins, I think it's mostly accepted the KKK was founded by descendants of Scottish immigrants , or at the very least, founded by people who drew heavily on that aesthetic. So even if modern Americans who fetishise Scotland are saying they can finally start celebrating their "native homeland's" traditions again - I think there's an element of 'wanting to be seen as victims with a rich history' about it.

[itsbansheebitch]

More thoughts

I get both sides, but I feel a little confused they couldn't find four people in their +25 employees

Data analyst (Are you seriously telling me you couldn't personally email or even just HIRE matpat's team who do data analytics as part of Theorist Media to help??? The man would be overjoyed to help???)

Editor (Put the first $6 towards a can of coffee grounds, dude)

PR Team (Even, like, a single person, please, for the love of god)

Business Major (Or literally anyone that has taken a home ec/budgeting/personal finance class)

First, the Dish Granted series was started when gold leaf burgers were novel, now it's seen as tone deaf (for obvious reasons) it should have shifted to something like interviews with people who make that kind of food or local businesses (like parmesan cheese shops in Parma, Italy) or the history of food (like talking about the history of modern Native American slavery on Californian wine vinyards). Not to mention the untapped potential of Food Fraud topics. Either shift it, or scrap it. Any data analyst or chronically online person could tell you that.

Second, why did you keep "anyone can afford $6 a month" in? Are the editors asleep at the wheel? Are they overworked? What is going on? You know damn well to not make generalizations about what people can afford. That's NEVER a good idea, especially when you KNOW (because YT gives you analytics) that most of your viewers are young (16/18-30/35 range, I'd guess) who probably, either 1, are still in school and either arent paid well/dont have jobs OR 2, arent paid well and tired of people's shit, like people who own businesses talking about "tough financial decisions." To them, Watcher isn't going to look different from the other people talking like that, because this was so sudden, with no input from fans, and in the video you hear shit like "anyone can afford [X]." To be frank, it wouldn't really matter what the amount is, because that generalization goes against the message they have stood by for years. THAT is a slap in the face.

Third, what are yall doing with the budgeting? Every artist has a right to make art that they are proud of. Every artist deserves to have their work seen if they so choose. Every artist deserves to make a living. HOWEVER, there are MANY options online when it comes to making money, especially on YT. You could get into marketing, data analysis, expanding your demographic, looking at what people are interested in right now VS what will stand the test of time (not gold leaf burgers), etc.

You have to either have these skills, develop these skills, or hire someone to do it for you. It's understandable that you would want a team behind the production, but I find +25 employees to be WAY too many people, especially in LA. Bailey Sarian has a Dark History section on her YT (and Spotify podcast) where she has hired historians to help make sure her episodes are as accurate as possible. You've caught heat before from Puppet History's missing & incorrect info, you should do the same. She has about three (3) "intermissions" per episode for ad breaks. I never see anyone complain. People WOULD listen to yall talk for that long (+1 hour videos), tbh, though that's not necessary.

Why are yall out here with Teslas, expensive food, new gear, scripts (where there weren't scripts before, PH is different, that makes sense), and "better than TV" level sets??? I need to put your accountant in this week's church prayer list what the actual hell??? Ya'll, this video is literally the meme:

Guys help me budget:

LA Rent: 2K per month

Videos: 100K per vid

+25 Employees: God only knows

New stuff for videos: Don't get me started

Like, are you serious?

You have a right to do whatever you want with your art. You have a right to charge whatever you'd like for that art. You have a right to make a living from your art and you have a right to ask your fans for money.

Your fans have a right to be angry when they've been supporting yall for, what, almost 10 years? They have a right to choose when and where to spend their money even when you've made an impact. They have a right to feel betrayed, especially when there are better options (like Nebula or consulting with Theorist Media).

Fans DO NOT have a right to be racist to any members of Watcher, now that they have made a decision they do not agree with.

I personally, think this is a really silly decision and could have been solved (haha solved) with a simple YT poll, but apparently we had to get... this. I respect their decision, I just don't think it was a smart one. I wish them the best, and I hope they find a better solution. Any further comment from me will depend on what steps they take next.

[nerves-nebula]

hi there, i want to ask about your usage of it/its pronouns, sorry if this might make you uncomfortable or if its weird or confusing

are your it/its pronouns any different from it/its pronouns for an object? I don't know how to word it sorry, I'm just trying to understand more about other types of pronouns

It’s fine. They aren’t different from an objects it/its to me, because objects & animals & concepts aren’t inherently inferior to humans, so I wouldn’t really mind being in the same group as them conceptually.

It’s a mindset I haven’t fully gotten into but I’m trying to rework the way I see the world, inspired partially by the things I’ve heard native Americans say. Like, I am not better than the food I eat because I’m human. A bear isn’t better than me because they can eat me & kill me. Humans are a part of the earth and would do best to work inside of it and with it than to try to control it or put ourselves on a higher level than it’s other creatures.

I mean clearly we can’t be all that much smarter & more important, what with what we’ve got going on.

But anyway, my pronoun change was at first honestly just the most logical conclusion.

Here’s my train of thought: I didn’t like he or she, Im not a man or a woman. and they/them don’t tell you anything about my gender. If you hear someone call me they/them you aren’t even gonna know I have a weird gender!

Similar to how man and woman are genders, but Non-binary isn’t. Non-binary just describes what you aren’t, its an umbrella term not (inherently) a specific gender. it’s very broad and most nonbinary people I’ve seen & met still identify in parts with man and woman. They/them is so vague that no one would bat an eye if you slipped in a they while describing a cis person who clearly reads as their assigned gender.

And I’m too forgetful & lazy to use neopronouns so, it/it’s was the natural choice. It’s easier to integrate because people already use it/it’s for stuff all the time.

And see, here’s the thing: I have a gender, I’m not vague or in between or a mix. And it’s much closer to like, the idea of a Third Gender. This was something that frustrated me a lot in high school because I would go looking for labels and most of them were about proximity to manhood & womanhood. Or about being agender or neutral. Or about concepts I fully did not relate to. I am not one of those things.

Another issue I had was that a lot of these gender labels had “-gender” at the end which doesn’t make sense to me at all. It’s not mangender and womangender so I didn’t vibe with this naming scheme.

I was also hesitant to use a label a white person made because I’d noticed that white people kind of have a different experience with nonbinary gender than people like me.

Luckily I found the perfect label! Maverique! It had no weird -gender suffix and it was made by a black person who created it online after realizing neutral/agender didn’t fit right.

And yea so it/its is a signifier of me as a third thing. not male, not female, not neutral or in between or lacking gender- just a different kind of person.

And this isn’t even getting into all the ways that I related to monsters in media, which were frequently called by it/it’s pronouns. Or how being abused factors into seeing myself as a non human THING and how embracing that makes me feel much more alive & like a person.

So yea, that’s the run down :)

[decolonize-the-left]

I haven't found the original post about whiteness yet. However about "void where culture should be" I can sum up what's there trying and failing the fill the void.

Primarily, religion, specifically Western Evangelical Christianity. Purity culture, heaven and hell, the idea of sin, the idea of God.

Family is family and we must be true to that first and foremost. Following from this it's also marriage and the CisHet norms and as an extension of that having kids. (Which ties back to 1. in many ways.)

Being morally superior in every way we can. Totally not because white people are better, but we're the good normal CisHet Christians and we set the standards. (Sarcasm there.)

Exploitation of natural resources, especially those of non American countries. Vacations and Cruises. Going out into nature verg disrespectfully. Having the biggest life possible and having as much excess as possible. So, so many educational field trips where colonization was evident looking back. Never visiting pr disturbing a settler graveyard, but native burial mounds were fair game and not even in a respectful manner.

Nationalism. Military and Cops being the best thing ever. Just everything associated with American nationalism.

Food, the only not terrible thing on this list. Even that though is really a mix of so many cultures and honestly there's probably something fucked up if I looked into it deeper.

TLDR: Christian Nationalism. Which I am working to reject now. I definitely ain't perfect but I'm gonna work on it til I die.

Unfortunately though, that does leave me with very little culture. There's nothing to even try to fill that void anymore. I have to try and create it for myself. Just like I have to create family for myself. Sorry for the rambling I just had some thoughts.

I agree and think some other things should be there but yes.

And I mean as long as you're growing, that's all I care about ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ we love to see it 💖🌿

•°•°•

And maybe it's very rainbows and unicorns of me but we should be creating an American identity we can all share. Reject the current reliance on race all together.

Because there Should be more than christian ideology, white supremacy fascism, and capitalism.

Russel Means said it best when he said "Caucasians have a more positive vision to offer humanity than European culture. I believe this. But in order to attain this vision it is necessary for Caucasians to step outside European culture—alongside the rest of humanity—to see Europe for what it is and what it does."

Yes you have to create your own but it can be shared too. Community is crucial to any culture and people at all. Because there is so much more than what you've been given, you can create too just like your long ago ancestors before you.

And on a real note that needs to be the first step like yesterday (provided you want my opinion lol):

If white people ever want to belong here and feel like they're a part of everyone else; like we all share an identity then you have to start being more active allies to all the communities here.

You need to act like it, you know? Start actively being a part of dismantling the systems that the many diverse communities here have been critiquing for decades and centuries. Enough conditional support.

Show that you're Truly with us, thick or thin. That you wont fall back to supporting state violence because you think we misstepped in our fight for human rights and more human treatment.

Show us that you think our futures are worth fighting for. That they're a priority and the bigger picture is worth a few property damages that can/will be repaired anyway.

That you stand with us first, not the police or buildings or your political leanings. With us. With the human people that are your neighbors and bakers and bus drivers and business owners. That our human lives matter more than your politics or ideologies. That you stand for the rights of your neighbors and community like we have stood for each other.

We'd be way more of a melting pot if white ppl collectively stopped constantly looking for people to pick out of the pot. Because idk about other people, but that's how I feel as a native when liberals are trying to pick apart Landback or abolishing police or protesters causing damages for pride and ending police brutality but won't question a white imperialist for president because it's a "lesser evil" than the progressive who'd help me.

Way more of a community if other white people collectively stepped up came and stopped those kind of people from spreading their nonsense. Collectively don't take that bullshit.

Consider it your first community value. Solidarity with Everyone, not the whiteness that protects/benefits you.

And I don't mean you personally, but on a grander scale you know? Y'all should be doing whatever you can in that regard. Prove you mean it. That you want that future of belonging here and feeling safe and having an identity as much as we do.

Cuz we've Always been the first to fight, you know? With slow and conditional support...if any. But white people have the power of privilege that people in power pay attention to. More than ours. They try to suppress and repress ours systematically like we're seeing in Florida and across the country with book bans, banning CRT, and passing don't say gay bills.

We need support and it needs to be loud and visible and everywhere all the time. It can be.

The rest of us know what white people as a collective are capable of and what solidarity with one another can do.

The people in charge need to know the time for racism and fascism and individualism is behind us. That it's no longer a value that Us-Americans put up with. That you stand with us, not them.

I think we have a long way to go before the trauma of our shared history can be completely forgiven but I think unconditional allyship and support in the name of human rights and ending war crimes against marginalized communities would be a good first step at attempting to repair trust.

If you want unity we need to know you wont keep aligning with our oppressors first and foremost, you know?

[kinkandkreep]

Connor Kenway: Celebratory Birthday Headcanons- Part 3

A/N: Alrighty y’all, here’s part 3 of the Connor-canons! For those who are just joining us, first of all, welcome! We’re doing celebratory Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway birthday headcanons! There’s been two other parts thus far, the Yandere!TOKW au relationship headcanons and the non-yan canonical au relationship headcanons. These will simply be the modern!au non-yan headcanons w/o the relationship aspect. I hope you all enjoy! Also, please feel free to send in Connor related asks and requests. I’d be more than happy to gush about him to anyone willing to listen and share. (Also this is a long one, so buckle up folks.🙃)

Modern!Connor Kenway Headcanons

Right off the bat this man loves pizza

It’s like his favorite food

He also a big fan of eggs and different kinds of meat, so he likes that he can have both on a pizza, i.e a breakfast pizza

(The Palmeros ones from Walmart are really nice actually so if y’all like breakfast pizza and haven’t tried ‘em you should 👀)

He’s also quite fond of hearty soups, but I think we all coulda figured that out

Idk why but I always feel like Connor takes good care of his hands

I mean, he takes very good care of his hygiene overall but I feel that his hands are particularly important to him

Canonically, he’s only supposed to be like 6’0 but I don’t think any of us in the community accept that so let’s say that he’s actually more like 6’5 😂

I say that because since he has such an imposing figure, he recognizes that people might be wary of him upon first glance

Also, being as big and built as he is, he sweats a fair amount (not like, abnormally, just probably more than the average sized man) 

He takes such good care of himself because A.) that’s what you’re supposed to do and B.) he’s very conscious about the way he smells and presents himself to others 

Of course we know that Ratonhnhaké:ton is Native American and the Mohawk people in particular aren’t fond of being touched by people they aren’t familiar with, as is demonstrated by Ratonhnhaké:ton throughout the game 

But I maintain that he is still of mixed race, and so, as he’s been exposed to American society at large, he’s become only marginally more comfortable touching and being touched by others 

What I mean to say, is that he definitely won’t be going in for a hug if he’s only just met you, but he’s slightly more willing to accept and return a cordial handshake

As far as further physical contact goes, the most he’s got is a clap on the shoulder for his homies and a bear hug if you’re his lady

I’m not super sure where my mind is in terms of age for Con-Con man for this set of headcanons, but I’m thinkin’ he’s late college age, so like 22 onward

That being said, Connor attended Dartmouth College and earned his Bachelor’s degree in environmental engineering 

He also minored in zoology, his focus being on canines, namely wolves 

(I really wanted to say that he did something a little less rigid and attended a trade school, but I couldn’t reconcile that with his intended degree/career path 😭)

Taking into account his degree, I’d say Connor’s favorite subjects in school were…well, environmental science and, perhaps surprisingly, home economics 

He was skilled at math and reasoning but wasn’t very fond of the curriculum, though he enjoyed the skill application aspect, and he was a very strong reader but just preferred to be more active and hands-on, so reading was done more so out of necessity for him instead of enjoyment 

English is still his second language, but he speaks it better than a number of his peers

Since this is a modern!au, he’s comfortable enough with English to use contractions and rarely does he omit them from his speech

Connor has very pretty teeth, and a stunning smile

When he chooses to show it 🙃

You see it most often if you’re his best friend or his girlfriend

His mother sees it often as well

He has a somewhat strained relationship with his father, Haytham

He and Connor’s mother were married for a time but divorced when Connor entered adolescence

The split was amicable, and both Haytham and Ziio still hold love for each other 

Connor, however, knows that the reason for the split is that Haytham was far too ambitious to ever settle down fully and live the life of a family man

Though still young when he and Ziio got married and had Connor, Haytham got antsy as both he and Connor grew older and Connor became more independent, and the older man couldn’t reconcile his desire to “be free” with his married home life

Connor resents him for that, as his mother, though she hid it well, was clearly heartbroken by the decision to divorce, even though it was mutual

Haytham does still provide for Ziio as she doesn’t work, and hasn’t for Connor’s entire life

He also offered to pay for Connor’s schooling, but it was fully covered by grants and scholarships so he declined

He didn’t want to owe his father anything anyway

So, in this modern!au, where does the name Connor originate from?

Well, Connor is an Irish name, derived from the word Conchobar, meaning “lover of hounds”

When Ziio was pregnant with Ratonhnhaké:ton and living with Haytham, they rescued an older dog that had been left injured and abandoned on the side of the road

Ziio, probably due to pregnancy hormones, felt an extreme call to help the poor animal and insisted that Haytham at least carry him to the vet

Begrudgingly, Haytham agreed, not wanting to upset his already delicate wife further

After getting the pup to the vet and following his treatment, Ziio decided she wanted to adopt the dog, as it seemed to have grown fond of her, in particular her belly, in the short time they’d spent in each other’s presence

Bringing the dog home, who the vet determined was a Czechoslovakian Wolfdog and about 7 years old at that point, Ziio and Haytham named him Noble

Noble kept by Kaniehtí:io’s side for the rest of her pregnancy and stayed close even as she gave birth at home 

He immediately took to protecting and interacting with baby Ratonhnhaké:ton and the baby seemed completely unafraid of the pup 

This inspired Haytham, who suggested the name Connor to Ziio, as he’d heard the name during one of his previous excursions overseas and thought it fitting for his common name

Ziio agreed, and the name has stuck ever since 

Whew, now that we got that all squared away, back to Connor’s actual headcanons 🙃

You know, I don’t think Connor would be a stoner stoner, he would try a couple times and decide he likes the calming after-effect, but not the lack of alertness associated with the high

While we’re on the topic, he prefers brownies over cookies 

Also, while Connor is a chocolate person, he prefers overall savory foods over sweet ones 

Dark chocolate will always be his guilty pleasure treat though 

Connor likes antiques and old cars, and so he drives a ‘76 Chevrolet Scottsdale that he bought from one of his mom’s friends, an older war veteran by the name of Achilles Davenport 

Achilles acts as Connor’s pseudo-grandfather, and Connor spent many summers in his teenage years helping Mr. Davenport fix up his house- a large manor on the Massachusetts hillside- and, by way of Mr. Davenport’s tutelage, learning how to repair vehicles and hunt/track animals

Connor also worked a lot in his teenage years, and still continues to support himself, more out of a simple desire to be self-sufficient than anything else 

When he wasn’t helping Achilles, he did some odd jobs here and there, before finally settling for some time as an apprentice for a land surveyor

Connor was quick to learn the skills associated with land surveying and impressed his boss so much that the man wrote him a stellar letter of recommendation when he applied to Dartmouth 

He even offered to employ Connor full time once he graduated, but Connor politely declined the offer, saying that he wanted to do a little more job exploration before settling at one place 

(The man was very understanding and assured Connor that if he ever decided he wanted to come back, there would always be a position open for him)

While in grade school, Connor was that guy that everyone loved and who was very, genuinely kind and helpful, but who also took no shit from anyone and would beat up bullies 😂

Everyone also knew he had a strong aversion to being touched and had a pretty severe case of RBF, but his puppy dog eyes and willingness to lend a helping hand was so precious they loved him anyway 😭

Speaking of RBF, his mom and dad both have serious cases as well, and that’s where he gets it from

He also just naturally has an extremely low tolerance for BS and it shows 

Now ladies and gents, a rapid fire round of headcanons for Connor to wrap everything up in a neat little bow 😁

Rapid Fire Connor-Canons

He really enjoys karaoke

None of his friends have ever seen him with his hair down

Once when he was little, Connor wandered off on his own and followed a wolf back to her den, where he was subsequently amazed upon witnessing her tend to her cubs

He got in a whole heap of trouble upon being found and was forbidden from going outside period for like 3 months and couldn’t go outside unattended for a further 6 

He thinks pineapple on pizza should be a crime punishable by an ass whoopin’

Learned parkour from A.) a lot of trial and error and B.) watchin’ a bunch a guys do tricks and stuff on Youtube

Tends to swear at people in his native language 

Doesn’t like how jittery coffee makes him feel 

Is ambidextrous but favors his left hand to throw and his right hand to write

At Haytham’s behest, Connor took archery and horseback riding classes from the ages of 10-13

He never competed, but was noted for his skill at both 

Isn’t at all ashamed about the fact that he gets mani-pedis

Is teaching himself how to play the acoustic guitar 

His favorite drink is the Arnold Palmer with unsweet tea

Lowkey cried the first time he watched Forrest Gump

Rage quits his video games 🙃

Is actually very civil when playing board games, and he loves Monopoly (he prefers the version with cash instead of card) 

Has never screamed (like, as in a frightened scream, he yells at people all the time 🙃)

Adores dogs

And dogs are inexplicably drawn to him as well

Has a budget and sticks to it (like a baddie 💁🏾‍♀️💅🏾)

Overall, modern!Connor is a very respectable, well-rounded young man with bright prospects and a positive outlook 😁

[hekate-brimo2]

Spes Novum (Aka my Supervillain Story based on the Synoverse by @wingedcat13) Chapter Two is up on AO3 here, but I’m making sure to put it here on Tumblr as well

Several hours passed before I saw Kayla again. I had destroyed several heavy-bags in the gym, and sent more than one set of throwing knives through my target. Eventually I ended up behind my desk, keeping an eye on newsfeeds for any updates about The Patriot and American Girls’ locations. Carson sauntered into my office around nine pm, putting down a plate of food I neither asked for nor wanted.

“Cook insisted I bring you this, said you’d be hungry. I said you’d be too upset to eat.” They said, plopping into the chair across from me

“I know what you’re doing.” I answered, picking up the fork and tearing into the food out of spite

“It’s working though, isn’t it?”

“Cook knows Bangers and Mash reminds me of home.”

“Hmm.”

“You didn’t come in here just to bring me dinner, Cook would’ve done that herself.”

“She wants to talk to you. Kayla.”

I hummed in response, chewing thoughtfully on my sausage

“You don’t have to do it.” Carson murmured, knowing I’d know how they felt

“She is my guest. Thank Cook for me, I’ll finish this when I return.”

I tread through the hallways carefully, lowering the gravity beneath my feet to keep them from tapping too hard on the tile floor. I reached the infirmary quickly, it was a small room, with only three available beds, but was well stocked for all it needed to do. I looked in a nearby mirror and studied myself. I was wearing my costume: a light purple jumpsuit, tight against my skin. My arms were bare, exposing the silver fractal scars I’d received from the Space Between Space. Around my throat and ankles were silver magnetite cuffs that would cancel out my power in the event I lost consciousness, or lost control. Finally, over my mouth and extending below my neck, was a breathing mask, which automatically activated in zero-oxygen environments. I hoped I didn’t look scary showing up like this.

“Kayla.” I said in greeting to the teenager, who was sitting upright in the bed-that-was-also-a-gurney. She had a bandage extending down her left cheek, which meant Doniphon had operated already, and was satisfied with the restructuring of her bone.

“Maestrum Gravis.” She replied in kind, turning over the book she’d been reading

“Pale Blue Dot by Carl Sagan, an interesting choice. I imagine Doniphon talked you into it? He makes every new person he meets read at least the first page. I was told that you wanted to speak with me.”

“I… wanted to thank you.”

“Really? For what, young one?”

“You… you didn’t have to react the way you did. D…Doniphon says you were practically steaming when you saw my black eye, and… uh, Carson? I think was their name, said they were surprised that you didn’t kill my parents, even after I asked you not to.”

“I keep my promises. Did Doniphon mention that your cheek will scar?”

“He did, but that’s fine. Scars are cool.” Kayla said, smirking

“Indeed.” I responded, flexing my arms and making the lichtenberg figures ripple

“Um… I guess I should ask… am I your prisoner now?”

“Why would you think that? No. You were granted sanctuary, originally by my Aide de Camp, but by granting you a bed in my infirmary I continued that offer, and will continue it for as long as you wish.”

“Oh! So… what does that mean?”

“It means you are under my protection for as long as you are within my territory. Granted that territory is not large, there are larger fish in this pond than I, that Shadowmancer claims most of the Western Seaboard, but I have my humble little territory here in Humboldt Bay, and some of Northern California. The Redwoods are home to a Native Hero, the last remaining Whilkut Warrior, who calls himself Blue Lake Rider, but anything North and West of here is mine.”

“Oh… thanks. Why, uh… why did you do that for me?”

“Well… let me answer that question with a question. Why did you come here?”

“I… I needed to get away from my parents, this was… the best option I had.”

“Your best option was a Supervillain?”

Kayla was silent at that, and we sat in it for a moment.

“Your life is your own, Kayla Moore. From here on out, you know that you are welcome in my home whenever you like, if you wish to stay, then stay. I will do whatever is necessary to keep you safe. Sleep on it, and tomorrow we will make plans, if that is what you wish.”

“Thank you, Maestrum.”

“While you’re here, call me Beren.”

I left then, not returning to my office, but instead to my quarters. I shed my costume and showered, leaning against the tile wall and considering the situation. There was so much to do to secure Kayla’s future, I would have to contact one of the I.L.L.E.G.A.L. Lawyers in the morning, they were the best. Emancipation papers would have to be drafted, and living arrangements made. Hell, we’d have to find the girl some clothes first.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a tank top hitting the floor. I shook myself out of my stupor just as Carson stepped into my shower.

“You’re thinking too hard.” They said, joining me under the stream of water, and snaking an arm over my shoulder.

Carson was smaller than me in a lot of ways, shorter, thinner, but somehow they managed to hold me in ways that made me feel small. We’d both transitioned upon discovering the inconsequence of the gender binary, but Carson’s transition was more emotional than physical. Mine was physical as well, which they knew perfectly, demonstrating that knowledge as their hand dipped between my legs and caressed the surgically crafted folds of my vulva. I hummed, pleased, and leaned back against Carson as they continued their ministrations, working me ever closer to an orgasm as they attempted to drive away my thoughts. Soon enough, my own wetness joined the shower’s stream, and Carson removed their thin fingers, wrapping arms around my torso. I held them there as well, as we let the water fall.

“Beren,” they called, later as we lay in bed. “What can we do for her?”

“We can protect her,” I began, voice growing hard, “We can give her time. We can present options. She can have whatever life she wishes, and we will provide it as best we can.”

“That sounds like something parents should do.”

“Then we shall be her parents, in all but name. Well, we shall be better than her parents.”

I felt Carson’s tears against my chest as they said the next four words.

“I always wanted kids.”

I woke early the next morning, extricating myself from Carson’s long limbs just as the sun peeked over the horizon, lighting Humboldt Bay on fire. The view was one of my favorites, and one of the reasons I’d bult my lair here. I watched for a moment, and then stepped into my closet to change.

I did not wear my costume to breakfast, it was a concession I’d made to Cook as soon as she’d joined my retinue. Instead, I pulled on a pair of jeans, and one of the tank tops Carson swore I looked good in. I pulled a flannel over top of it, knowing the air would be cool this early, and went to join Cook and Doniphon for breakfast. This was our ritual: Cook was awake before all of us, as she was the one to provide the food, and the coffee, we would all eat as we watched the sun rise, quiet mostly, but eventually conversation would erupt, about news, or about plans. Afterwards, Tom and I would go to the kitchen and clean our plates, and any mess Cook still had, which was always minimal, and Cook would retire to her quarters to nap. That morning we were joined by an extra face.

“Kayla, Cook, Tom. A pleasure to see you this morning.” I said politely, stepping onto the balcony we traditionally used

“Mornin’ Boss.” Tom answered, raising his coffee cup

“Good Morning, Gravis.” Cook said, cutting into her eggs

“Good Morning, Beren.” Kayla grumbled, holding her coffee with both hands.

Tom and Cook both raised an eyebrow at me, which I shrugged off. I sat down across from Kayla, and began eating my own breakfast. Cook had gone for simple, with eggs and toast, three slices of turkey bacon for me, a sausage patty for herself, and real bacon for both Kayla and Tom. Once the sun was halfway above the horizon, I met Kayla’s eyes and said “Kayla, I was considering your situation last night, and realized that you are probably wanting a new wardrobe, or at least your old clothes. If you are willing, I will happily escort you to buy some, or I will make the effort to retrieve yours, if you’ll give me your old address.”

“I… uh, I can just go get my stuff. It’s no big deal.” She answered, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of me going to her old house.

“I would rather not risk you encountering your parents again. They have harmed you once, enough that my medic had to reattach a bone to your skull.”

“No violence at my breakfast table.” Cook said, glaring at me

“Apologies, dear Cook.”

“Um… is there… I don’t really want to run into them either. There is some stuff I want to get from home though.”

“I’ll make a call, once we’re finished here, and see if there’s anyone who can distract your parents for a few hours, while you retrieve your things. How did you get from your home to here?”

“Oh! I can fly. Not sure where it comes from, neither of my parents can.”

“Powers are rarely that simple, young one. I’m sure Doniphon can tell you all about the genetic mutations that cause them, but that is for later. Once you’ve flown back, join me on the beach, there are other things we need to discuss.”

“Yes… uh, Beren?”

“Yes dear?”

“I don’t… I know you don’t… use masculine or feminine pronouns, so I don’t want to call you Sir or Ma’am, but… what do I use in place?”

“If you feel the honorific is necessary, then… Doctor or Professor would be fine, I’ve been both, though I’m sure Duke revoked my Doctorate when I was branded a Villain, and I’m certainly no longer tenured at U.C. Berkeley. I would prefer you only use Maestrum around other Supers. If none of those suit you, Mx is always acceptable.”

“Okay.”

“Very well. Tom! Shall we collect these ladies plates and wash whatever mess Cook has left us with?”

“Will do, Boss.”

[blackcurlsgreeneyes]

Darkest Before the Dawn // Closed RP

@fidelixcorde​

And here Harry had been thinking that the most exciting thing that would happen this school would be the Quidditch World Cup. Really, he should have known better; this was his life, after all. Between the chaos that broke out in the night, after that event, and the unsubtle hints that the Weasleys kept dropping, he really should have had a stronger sense of foreboding.

Technically, it was exciting news. Harry didn’t know anything about the Triwizard Tournament, but it was clear that it held global wizarding significance. If he was honest, though, from the moment Dumbledore announced it, Harry was just as intrigued by the prospect of these other international magical schools as he was by the Tournament itself.

He wasn’t disappointed. The night that the two groups arrived, it was a magnificent and dramatic display; the a carriage the size of a large house flew in pulled by Abraxans, producing the breathtaking medley of darker-skin-toned students with Professor Ahoka from Ilvermorny, and the Durmstrang ship emerged from the lake, revealing its fur-robed students, Professor Karkaroff, and Viktor Krum of all people.

From night one, it was a bit easier interacting with Ilvermorny. Their headmistress didn’t share Karkaroff’s snobbery, and actively worked out a schedule with McGonagall to get her students into the Hogwarts classrooms. And that was how Harry wound up with two new additions in his close friend group; most who had come were seventeen, eligible to compete, but a few had younger siblings who had joined them.

Among these were Taylor and Tyler, and they became part of the group from the first feast, when Taylor overheard Harry’s curiosity over some of the dishes that had appeared, clearly native to their guests’ homelands, and had made herself at home to tell him about it.

Since then, Harry was finding himself delighting in learning about American food, culture, education, and society from the sharp-eyed, sharp-witted girl. She and her twin fit right in--Hermione began improving her sign language, getting to know Tyler--and the weeks rolled on until they reached Halloween.

For the holiday occasion, a cloud of live bats was fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner. Harry led the way over to Dean and Seamus, who were discussing those Hogwarts students of seventeen or over who had entered. There were names from every House, and excitement was palpable in the air, waiting for the end of dinner and the discovery of who was in.

“Did both your sisters go in for it?” Ron asked Taylor eagerly. “Angelina did, for us....Cedric Diggory, too, from Hufflepuff, and I heard that big Slytherin bloke Warrington, as well. I’d love for it to be a Gryffindor, just seems to make sense, doesn’t it?”

[medusapelagia]

25 Au-gust: Joker (Western)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: mention of violence, mention of raping, use of the world Indians to define Native Americans WC: 2665

Eddie sighs, he knew that, as a first job, they would have sent him to some shit place, but god, Hawkins didn’t even seem like a town!

There was a big saloon, a prison, an emporium, and a few houses.

“They are building the railway.” The coach’s man tells him, while helping him with his bag “Stay away from trouble and you’ll be ok.”

Eddie snorts, that’s the very same thing that Wayne told him when he accepted the job.

“Thanks for the advice, man.” he replies, getting his things and walking into what seems like a hotel but it could also be a brothel.

“What do you want?” An angry woman asks him “I need a place to stay, I’m the new teacher.”

The woman laughs loudly “That’s what they sent us? A teacher? We need a fucking sheriff!”

Eddie shrugs “I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about sheriffs, I’m here to teach your sons how to read and write.”

“And you really think we need that? Our sons need to learn how to plow the land or how to take the herd to pasture. The majority of them are working in the mines! We don’t give a fuck about reading!”

Eddie keeps smiling, it’s not the first time that he has had this kind of conversation. These are people who came here, in the middle of nowhere, hoping to find some fortune and find themselves stuck between rocks and Indians.

“Fine. However, I still need a place to sleep. Is this a hotel?” he asks.

The woman studies him for a long time and then he nods.

“Seven dollars a week and you have to pay in advance.”

Shit. He hasn't even started the job and he is already going to spend most of it.

“Is lunch included?”

“Breakfast. And any advanced food from lunch.”

Fuck.

Ok. Ok. It’s not a big problem, as soon as he starts to teach his students will bring him something from their houses. Or at least that’s what Wayne taught him to do when he was young and he really hopes that his new students will do the same because, if not he will die of hunger in this fucking shit hole.

He nods and the woman shows him a little room with a bed, a table, and nothing more.

He sighs, he already misses his home, but he loves to teach and in his hometown,there was no place for him. Maybe his next job will be in a better town.

“Can you show me the school?”

The woman turns toward him and starts to laugh.

***

The school is actually an abandoned barn that still smells like horseshit.

“Are you the new teacher?” a handsome man asks while Eddie is trying to understand if somewhere there are some desks and chairs or if his students will have to sit on the ground.

“No, I’m the new sheriff!” he replies sarcastically.

“For real? I thought… oh… you are joking.” 

Eddie turns toward him, the man seems so sad that all he can do is offer his hand to him “Eddie Munson, teacher, and musician.”

“Steve Harrington, farmer and nothing else.”

“Please tell me, Mr. Harrington, what were you doing in my school?”

“Actually… I wanted to see if it was true that the new teacher has arrived.” he says smiling so sweetly that Eddie feels something warm filling him inside.

“And why is that?”

“My kid, Dust. He is really clever and he deserves an education. You know, I never got one.” he lowers his eyes, playing with the dirt with his boots “My father always said that I was too stupid and he was right. But Dustin is so fucking brilliant! He could do so many great things if given the opportunity! But we only got a teacher for less than a year.” he sighs “Not so many kids here, you know? It is a hard place to live in. But me and Dust, well, we like it here. It’s hard but peaceful. And at sunset, when we sit on the porch smoking, well, I smoke, Dustin just plays pretend but… It’s nice.”

Eddie nods “Seems like that. So I’m going to see your son tomorrow for my first lesson.”

Steve nods, and then he points toward the church “I think you should ask Father Jim if he would let you use the church for your lesson. Much better than this place.”

***

“No, no, no. I will not let the kids play in the house of god!” Father Jim replies, looking deeply offended.

“But the kids need some guidance, spiritual and material! We could join our forces and help them!”

The man shakes his head “You are a nice boy, Eddie, but you know nothing about the people that live here. They don’t care about the tuition of their children, they go to church only because they are scared that if they will not something bad will happen to them. I thought you heard what happened to the Harringtons.”

“Harringtons?” Like Steve Harrington, the cute boy he saw a few hours before?

The priest nods.

“Richard Harrington and his wife, Catherine, were killed in their house. Their son, Steve, escaped death miraculously and came back a few years ago with a child.”

“What happened?"

Father Jim sighs "Nobody knows exactly what happened. Rumors said that Neil Hargrove fell in love with Catherine and tried to kidnap her. Maybe her husband fought back, or maybe Hargrove was looking for blood. In any case, they were both murdered and no one took their farm until their son came back. They live on that farm." the man says, pointing to a big farm far from the town "It used to be the biggest farm we had, but now they have just a couple of cows and some horses."

***

On Monday Eddie starts his first lesson in the barn, and no one is attending.

He has seen some of the boys go to the mine with their fathers and he has tried to convince them to let them go to school, but the fathers refused.

He is sitting, drawing some stupid doddles with a stick, when a curly boy enters the barn.

"I'm sorry for being late! My father needed help with the cows. Well, he said that he did not but he did, so I stayed, and then he had to ride with me to get me here, but everyone hates us so we had to take the long way and... Are you alone?"

Eddie looks at the boy who suddenly stops to talk "Are you Dustin?"

He nods.

"I met your father yesterday."

The boy smiles "I know! I was so excited when I heard that a new teacher was coming, but Steve is really protective of me, so he wanted to make sure that I was in good hands. And I thought he was expecting a lady teacher because he wore his best hat, to hide the scar you know? And then he said that I could come and... oh! He told me to give you this!"

This, Eddie finds out, is an apple a little crushed on the side but that smells delicious.

"You know what? I have a room with a desk and a chair! Why don't we have our lesson there?"

"In your room?"

"It's not the best place in the world but still much better than a barn!"

While he walks toward the hotel with Dustin, he notices how everyone is avoiding them, some of them even cross themselves.

"I can go back home if you don't want to be seen with me."

"Why shouldn't I want that?"

"You know. People talk. And they do not like us. Steve says that they are jealous and envious of my talent, but he loves me too much."

"He told me you are really clever."

"That's because to him anyone who can add two and two is a genius!" he laughs.

Eddie doesn't know what it means exactly, but when he does some little test he easily finds out that Dustin is really clever indeed.

"And you studied with a teacher only for one year, is that correct?"

He nods.

"Miss Nancy was very nice. She gave me many books to read. I read them all but my favorite where about monsters, and knights."

Eddie smiles, he has a couple of those books "Why don't you take this one, and then you tell me what you liked the most?"

The big smile that Dustin gives him it's enough to win him over and he finds himself eager to teach him everything he knows.

***

In a couple of months, he has convinced some of the miners to send their sons to school at least once a week, and Father Jim has finally agreed to give him some space for his lessons while the barn is completely forgotten but Eddie is satisfied, he has a place to teach and he has his students. Especially Dustin, who sits always in the back but is the most brilliant of the class, and when he doesn't see the curly boy for three days in a row he asks for a horse and goes to his farm.

The farm is big and it has a lot of potential, it's obvious that it needs more than one person to deal with the animals, but he can see what a marvelous farm it used to be and how it could return to be.

What he is not expecting is seeing a riffle pointed at him as he gets closer to the farm.

"We don't want any trouble. Go away."

The voice is the same he heard months ago, but the tone is sterner.

"Steve. It's me. Eddie. The new teacher!" he says, removing his hat and letting his dark curls fall on his shoulder.

The man lowers the riffle and looks at him astonished "What are you doing here?"

"Dustin wasn't in class in the last few days and I wanted to know why."

"He is not feeling well." Steve explains to him "But he will come back to school as soon as he gets better.

"Do I have to call the doctor or..."

"No! We are fine! I'm taking care of him! Now you can go back where you came from and thanks for the visit." He replies, not moving from the porch, but Eddie is not going to have any of that.

"I'm not going to leave until I see the boy! You are hiding something and I'll find out what it is!" he replies getting closer.

"Listen, I don't have time...”

"Steve! Steve! They are coming! They are coming!" Dustin screams from inside the farm and Steve turns and runs inside the house, followed by Eddie.

"Hey. Hey. I'm here. No one is coming. Ok? I'm here. You are fine."

The boy is clearly feverish.

"He needs a doctor!" Eddie insists, but Steve shakes his head and takes a strange concoction that is boiling on the fire.

"Can you drink this for me, kid? Just a few sips."

The boy takes a sip, and then he makes a disgusted face.

"I know, I know, it's bitter, but you will feel so much better later, you know that right?" he comforts him, keeping the cup close to his mouth.

The kid nods and takes another couple of sips before falling asleep.

"He needs a doctor Steve." Eddie repeats "If his fever doesn't break soon..."

"It will."

"How do you know that?"

Steve sighs, and then leans on the back of the chair "Do you know why everyone hates us? Dustin and I?"

Eddie shakes his head and Steve continues

"When Neil Hargrove came to our town he killed my parents and left me for dead no one came from the town. No one helped us. They stayed closed in their stupid houses while we were slaughtered.” He closes his eyes for a moment “My father was not the nicest man in the world, but he fought for my mother. Hargrove killed him with a bullet in his head. Then he raped my mother and when he was satisfied, he gave her to his men. But me? He wanted me. More than anything. He raped me and beat me so hard that he broke my skull and thought that I was dead, or dying.

That night the Indians came too." he sighs "Abey told me that she had a dream of a baby deer in peril and when her husband found me she knew I was her baby deer. They nursed me back to health and taught me all I know, but when the railway workers got too close they had to move, and I couldn't go with them because I had a kid who was too white to be an Indian. That's why they hate me. Why they hate us. They consider me a half-Indian, and they know that Dustin is half-Indian too. They would send me away if they could, but the land it's mine and I know things..." he laughs, a dry laugh "You know what the funny thing is? That there is no doctor in this town. If anyone needs medical attention, they come to me. They need me, but they still hate me because I treat them with herbs and the Indians' method." he passes a hand into his hair and Eddie sees the horrible scar on the side of his head. He sighs "That's why I know that Dustin's fever will break." He concludes, getting up and going to the kitchen.

Eddie follows him, like a moth to a flame.

“I will understand if you do not want to teach Dustin, now that you know.” He clears his voice “I’ll tell him that I need him on the farm and he can’t go back to school. He will be made for a while, but it will be ok.”

“Why should you do that? Dustin is a brilliant student, I love to teach him and I don’t care if he is half-Indian or what. He is a good guy. Caring and loving and I’m lucky to have him in my class.”

"He is." Steve agrees, stirring some soup “Would you stay for dinner?”

Eddie nods, getting closer to help him with the plates, and he notices that all the spices have no name but little symbols.

“I could teach you, you know?”

“Uh?”

“To read. And to write. If you want to?”

Steve chuckles “I’m too stupid. Dustin tried to teach me once but it didn’t end well.”

“Because Dustin is very intelligent but he is no teacher. He is a resourceful and clever boy, but he gets too restless. He probably wanted you to learn everything in a day and then got frustrated. But I can teach you. And don’t tell me again that you are stupid because you just told me that you learned how to treat illness with herbs.”

“I… I would like to learn how to write my name. To sign papers you know.” He admits, lowering his eyes.

Eddie doesn’t waste a second, he takes a scrap of paper and charcoal and writes down in big letters STEVE, and then turns the paper toward the other boy “Try to copy that.”

They eat the soup in silence, while Steve keeps writing his name on the piece of paper and the letters become less shaky and more firm. They stop a couple of times when Steve gives Dustin his medicine, and when Dustin’s fever finally breaks, Steve is almost able to write his name.

Outside the sun is rising, and Eddie gets back to his horse “Tell Dustin that I’ll wait for him in class.” He says, and then he whispers to Steve’s ear “And I’m always willing to give you some private lessons, big boy.”

He does not turn to see Steve’s expression but he can almost feel the stern half-Indian boy blush.

[darklingichor]

Little House on the Prairie, by Laura Ingllas Wilder

This one has been called the most important book that Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote. What is interesting about that is that it is probably the least covered in Pioneer Girl. This makes sense because Laura was only three years old when the family went from Wisconsin to Kansas. They then went back to Wisconsin after about a year. From what I have gathered from Prairie Fires and other sources, Laura never intended to write another book after Big Woods and decided to set the story after they returned to Wisconsin. When it turned out that there was demand for more books, she couldn’t go back in time, so she moved the family’s time in Kansas.

The writing is not quite as simplistic as it was in Big Woods, more on par with Farmer Boy, which makes sense considering the tone of the writing ages with the main characters.

I think most of us know the story in general, but just in case, here’s the bones of it.

The Ingalls family decide to go West. The way Laura understands it, its because there isn’t enough game for Pa to hunt. This does make sense as the more people who come into a place, the scarcer the hunting becomes. But this is really our first introduction, in the series to Manifest Destiny, where in people thought it was God’s will for settlers to go all the way to the Pacific Ocean. Charles was under the impression that the land in what was then called the Osage Diminished Reserve was going to be open for the taking if not then, then very soon, and he had to get there first to have his pick. 

And also, let's face it, Charles Ingllas had some wanderlust.

So, he packs up his family and heads out.

They eventually find where they are going to steak their claim, build a house, meet some neighbors, including Mr. Edward's (who was my favorite character in the show). They face challenges, such as what could have been malaria, a winter that nearly interrupted Christmas, and fires.

The Native Americans are a presence through the book and not a welcome one most of the time. They are described as coming into the house and taking food, being unfriendly, and generally scaring the family. One Native American tried to come and speak with Charles, with good intentions, but they didn't share a language. They heard "war songs" for several nights and then saw the Native Americans ride past their house and out of the territory. Shortly there after, Charles heard that US troops were coming to get the settlers off of the land. Charles has set up three miles past the border. The family packs up and leaves.

I mentioned in my first entry that reading these as an adult was interesting,  because there is quite a bit said between the lines, or said but not explained that Laura does not fully understand.

Such as when their neighbor Mrs. Scott says that she can't forget the Minnisota Massacre. Caroline shuts her up with a look, so the girls don't hear more.

There is far to much to cover what is historically known as the US-Dakota War of 1862, in this entry. Prarie Fires is a good source to learn more, as well as the University of Minnesota website.

What I will say here is that this conflict seemed to allow some settlers to justify to themselves, their hatred of Native Americans as a whole. Of course, that type of thing is never justified.

And that brings me to of one the the most uncomfortable parts of this book.

The weirdest part of the story is where Laura begs Pa to get her a Native American baby. This seems to be a child's messy response to complex emotions. She doesn't want the baby, really. She wants to be like the Native Americans. When she sees them ride past her house, she percives freedom. She sees women who don't have the constraints that she has to contend with. They aren't wearing sunbonnets. She figures no one scolds them for being unladylike. She sees the babies having the freedoms that she wants. She can't  be like them, so she wants to possess them.

When Ma asks her why she wants one of the babies we are told that she couldn't explain what she felt, just said Their eyes are so bright. Bright with all.of the things she thinks they will experience. Running around in nature, not having to be quiet on Sundays, not having to be worried about being a "good little girl".

And so, begs and cries to be even somewhat adjacent to those freedoms.

She couldn't understand as a little kid, what the Native Americans were going through. This analysis doesn't make this any less disturbing, but it does bring me to my next point.

There has been debate about whether or not rhe LH books should be read in school. And when I first heard this,  I wasn't sure what I thought. Generally I don't think we give kids enough credit. When I first read this book at around seven or eight,I read it on my own, and not in a classroom setting. I was really bothered by how the Native Americans were depicted.

Why *did* they go to Indian Territory if Caroline hated Native Americans so much? Why did the government tell white people to take the land, and the government had to move the Native Americans west? Did she really think that the Native Americans threatened the family? Was this really threatening? The Native Americans were hungry. If the family could understand what was said, would they have been so scared? They would have fed any other neighbors that were hungry. What was wrong with Laura that she was asking for a person as a pet? This was after slavery, why didn't either of her parents tell her it was wrong to ask for something like that? How could someone say that the only good Indian is a dead Indian? That's evil.

And I remember my mom telling me I was right, that all of this stuff is wrong, but it's how some people thought at the time, and that included the government. She didn't know the answers to the other questions other than the government, and many ( but not all) of the settlers thought they had the right to land when they didn't, and were generally afraid of things different from them. And sometimes that came out violently. But she said it was good to ask all of these questions, it was good that I recognized that these things were wrong, because stuff like this still happened and it was just as wrong then as it is now. It was also a lesson in critical thinking. Don't just take something you read as truth. Question it.

Again, though, I read this on my own, literally sitting next to my mom, feeling safe to ask questions or express distress has either come up. I was not in a classroom setting being read to or graded on this material. Moreover, I was not a Native American child who was suddenly othered and had the safety I should feel in the classroom taken away.

So yeah, I agree that these books should not be taught to kids.

Teach these books in advanced placement in high school (maybe) or in college. But don't attach it to a classroom experience for kids.

[fizzingwizard]

I am using being sick as my excuse for this rant

My pet peeve, as someone who's lived abroad for about ten years total, with my fellow expats...

Some people decide to live abroad, by their own personal choice, because they're interested in getting to know another place and way of living. They aren't forced - they aren't desperate for a job or running from war or gang violence. They (myself included) are privileged people who enjoy travel and adventure.

But for those same reasons, some of these people are so entitled! It drives me up the wall. You chose to come to another country, and now all you can do is complain about it. Why don't you go home?

Of course it's okay to talk about things that are difficult or confusing and warn other expats about "foreigner services" which are actually really unhelpful and whatnot. That's not what I'm talking about.

I'm talking about the English teacher who makes fun of their own students for being shy ("Kids in my country are way more assertive and confident!") or for having different boundaries. "In my country it's not like that! These kids are oversensitive!" You're not in your country, genius. You would think that pertinent reminder is all they'd need to realize they're being a jerk - nope! "But I have to understand it!" they say. You have to understand it... to what end? To validate it?? To validate a different culture's way of doing things??? Hon, if that's how you feel, you are not ready to leave your home country. You don't get to decide if something's legitimate based on whether or not you can easily and organically understand it. These are societal norms baked deep into the culture - did you really think you were gonna show up and blow everyone away with your exciting foreignness and they'd all change their ways to be the same as your clearly superior ones???

I know these people don't mean it like that and would balk at such a description, but... what can I say... the shoe fits.

It especially bugs me when it involves kids. Because we've all been kids, so we should all know how confusing it is to be one and how little responsible children are for the cultural norms they absorb. But it makes no more sense when it involves adults either because again... it's their country and their culture.

But there's always some expat who is so baffled that "anyone could think this food tastes good!" or that "anyone actually thinks masks are useful!" Like I get that the food doesn't match your tastes. I get that the information about masks in your home country is very different from here. You're entitled to feel that way... but you're not entitled to make a mockery of the country you CHOSE to go live in for being used to different things.

That is the bottom line. You chose to be here!! No one is twisting your arm. Why would anyone decide to go work and live abroad without any intention of being open to different perspectives? When you travel you experience new horizons, both literal and figurative. You don't have to write over your own background. You simply have to have the basic capacity to appreciate human diversity.

You don't have to understand. You just don't! When I first moved to Japan, I often said "I never felt more like an American." That was because, at that time, the cultural differences were more stark - things surprised me almost every day. Occasionally there were things that didn't sit right with me. But I knew two things. One, I knew that my at the time very short experience of a couple years in Japan was nowhere near enough time to understand an element of culture, especially to the point of being able to criticize it. And two, I knew that regardless of how I may feel, it's not my culture - I'm the guest - I'm the one who needs to make allowances. In return, the vast majority of people I met also made allowances for my own many cultural faux pas - because they're nice and not idiots and knew they can't expect a foreigner to know the ins and outs of their culture like a native.

Fast forward to now. It's been almost ten years. I no longer feel surprised every day. Things I thought I'd never get used to are part of the daily routine. Things I thought I'd always miss about the US... I don't really miss anymore! The gaps that were made when I moved have been filled with the things I found here. If I ever move back, or to somewhere else, the same thing will no doubt happen again. That's what time does - time, and openness to change.

And many of the things that "didn't sit right with me" in the beginning... I've come to see why they work here. Or why they're valued. Or, at the very least, that even if the Japanese way of doing things may leave something to be desired... the American way I was accustomed to isn't actually any better x'D

I'm not perfect, but I can say I didn't come here with pretensions. I never assumed that because I'm an American, I know the right way of doing things and the people I meet should "learn" from me. I came here fully expecting that I would be the one learning from what I found here.

So these certain chatty expats (only certain people! - many expats are wonderful) just baffle me. It's like, travel is expensive... there have got to be cheaper ways of deluding yourself that you've got everything figured out and everyone else has it backwards haha.

I'm sure I sound rather harsh. It's just feeling a bit fed up from being sick and reading too much nonsense xP But even though most of those people don't have any bad intentions, it's just so weird to me, some of the things they complain about. "Students in Japan aren't like students in the US and I think there's something wrong with them!" No, my dude, they're kids. There's nothing wrong with them. What's wrong with you, the guy who got on the plane to leave the US in the first place?

[risu5waffles]

Ten-10 for Pen-pen

Got another 10 in the pike for y'all. Which, to think of it. Why pike? Who puts anything in a fish? Aside from fish food? i guess?

Talked about this a few weeks back. Short. Sweet. Well, mostly sweet? It's mostly just short, to be honest.

There are some really nice set pieces in this one, yeah. Loved all the giant zombie-ghosty things. The castle, itself, is a really nicely done environment, tho' i feel like the cameras are really a touch to herky-jerky at times. Gameplay was fun enough, even if a few bits don't totally gel; that bouncy floor bit really didn't quite work for me. The major fly in the ointment is the "This Is Halloween" or whatever it's called playing on loop the whole damned level. Even if it were a good song (and this version of it definitely is not), it just can't sustain 7minutes about of gameplay.

It's funny how you'll never hear of a creator, and then you blink and suddenly they're everywhere? And they're actually really good? This one is not a perfect recreation of Skulldozer, but it approximates it quite well, while putting its own spin on the proceedings. i am always a little bit wary of the Temple as a level kit, 'cause it feels a little bit of a kind of way towards Indian (subcontinent India, that is, not Native American) folx? i don't know. It's not my place to get angry about it, but it does tend to ping my "is this going to be gross?" radar. Anyways, Joja28 has a tonne of levels, and they all seem to have come out fairly recently, and they're all pretty good. i hope i didn't make that sound suspicious, because it isn't really. Sometimes folx just get on a whole tear in create mode.

This is another one, like the Snake Temple level above, that got picked up for a Team Pick right after i recorded, but before the episode went live. Hate that. This one's really fun to look at, but not quite as much to engage wiv. If you get out of the score bubble sections, it's really difficult to get back up, so you're just stuck on the boat forever watching the level go by. But the level does, at least, look nice, and it has a lot of character; it just feels really long when you can't engage wiv it.

The first of Chronos' Neon Dimension series, and already just strong right out the gate. Can we step back and appreciate this was made 12 dang years ago? Chronos was just a wee babby. And he just throws this together, like, oh, yeah, i just had this in my back pocket. i remember playing this the first time and thinking how cool it was that the level just kind of put itself together as i went. That was my benchmark for "is this level really special" for a couple of years when i first started reviewing, and it came from seeing it the first time done well here.

i think this might be my favourite "HARD" levels, tho it doesn't really bill itself the way those ones do (seriously, a lot of them just have hard in all-caps right in the title). This one's really tricky, and some bits take a fair amount of finesse, but it never feels unfair, and it never feels like it's rushing you along before you're ready. Add to that an excellent presentation, an extremely chill vibe, and a great choice of music, and you've got a real masterclass in level design. i tell you, no lie, i was so proud to beat this one way back in the day.

Yooo... what is this even? It is so fluid! The animation, it's like, i know it was done in LBP3, but i don't think i've ever seen anyone pull off something that looked quite as good or as well-done as this. The creator said on the title page they might or might not have gotten around to finishing it, but they were publishing it anyways just to have what was completed out there. i'm not familiar wiv the song, so i can't say yay or nay to that; but what we did get is honestly really special.

We're not also posting this to the subreddit, so i can say more honestly how i feel about this level. Fuck this level. Fuck it right in the ear wiv a big metal dick. Gods. This was actually anti-fun. It actually went out and removed fun from the world. It probably shit on a baby's ice cream while i was playing it, powered by my deep frustration and loathing.

There are some cute touches in this one, even if i don't feel like it really needed to be as long as it was. i really liked the skiiers and their bits of animation. The setting had a bit more pop in colour than we usually see in snow-themed levels, and i appreciated that as well. But, to be honest, there isn't really too much that sticks out in my mind either? i know that's kind of shitty, but there you go.

Tell you what, i was not expecting this level to be like this. Like, i've played LaDIDa72's levels before, and they can be tricky, but they always felt tricky in spite of themselves, you know? Like, a little playtesting and polish and they'd work better? i guess i didn't realize that street goes both ways. You can take wonky bits and polish them to be harder. This has got some of the fiddliest, most bullshite platforming i've played in a while and i loved it? It never felt unfair, just always just barely not do-able, and that makes all the difference. Plus, there's little that's dependent on things outside your control, and that, i feel like, is super important to keep players engaged wiv this kind of level. Make someone feel like the fuck up is on their end, and they will beat their heads into the wall trying to get past it, but let them think for a moment that the fuck up was on you as a creator, and they will bounce right out. It super helps this level is pretty as fuck. Like it is just super pretty. Which is half the reason i wasn't expecting it to be a hard level. A lot of times those are just dogshit ugly. Fun fact! i can't watch this video on my own YouTube channel thanks to Song 2 being in the level. Thanks a fucking lump Sony Music Japan! You're total fucking peaches!

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

So that's another ten off the top then. Your usual mix of good, bad, and ugly, but alright enough for all that. It feels like it's becoming my day off refrain, but i got stuff done today, but not what i needed, and not what i wanted. Well, a few things i needed, but not, like, needed-needed, you know?

[snowfox102]

Time for POND TALK

So last year I had the idea to keep neocaridina shrimp in my pond. I live in USDA zone 7b, which is pretty warm and I figured a heater would be sufficient for our mild winters. If you follow me on TikTok you'll know this went well at first, but later a sudden unexpected cold snap before I had the heater put an end to this experiment. But this wouldn't have worked anyway: I was very rudely informed of my folly by a severe ice storm that knocked out our power for a week and iced over the pond. Such power outages aren't unusual, especially in the winter, so even a high powered heater can't be counted on. The fish are native fathead minnows and don't even go torpid when their water freezes over, but the shrimp would not have survived. So this past spring I didn't restock.

There is however, a species of tiny shrimp native to this area! I knew this to begin with, but the problem is they're extremely difficult to obtain in hobbyist numbers. They're a type of grass/glass/ghost shrimp, and there are two such species in the US: Palaemonetes paludosus, and Palaemonetes kadiakensis. P. paludosus are found far to the south, preferring warm temperatures and having no real cold hardiness. P. kadiakensis on the other hand ranges as far north as the great lakes. You can buy "ghost shrimp" at pet stores, but they're usually P. paludosus, the Florida grass shrimp. It's very rare for any seller to state what specific species they have though, and in my research I've read of people buying what they thought were P. kadiakensis (aka PK shrimp) but they turned out to be Florida grass shrimp, or even some other variety of prawn entirely. For my situation, there can't be any substitutions, so I had given up on it. Grass shrimp are usually only bought to be used as food for bigger animals, or fishing bait, and people buying them for that don't usually care what specific species they get, so there's little incentive for proper labeling.

More recently though I found one lone eBay seller with labeled PK shrimp, who raises them in an outdoor pond not far from me. They state that their pond freezes over in winter, which implies they do in fact have PKs. There is still some question of whether this is a good idea or not - their pond is no doubt much larger than mine, and even though the bottom of the Big Puddle is below the frost line and has a heater down there, it isn't as warm as a big pond. But try as I might I can't find much useful information. This is one of those things that you have to experiment with on your own. The reason I tried the neocaridina was because I read of people keeping them outdoors further north of me!

Another thing I'm looking into is daphnia, daphnia magna specifically. They're good at eating the algae that cause green water, and they'd make good food for all the dragonflies and tadpoles I get in the summer. Maybe my fish fry would get a chance to survive if they weren't a primary food source for said predators. Seriously, I did have a bunch of fry this year, but only two survived because there are so dang many dragonfly nymphs! The dragonflies kept the American toads from creating a Biblical plague on my backyard though and I appreciate that. I had three toad spawns, one failed for some reason but the other two hatched thousands of tadpoles. I really enjoyed watching them grow, but it wouldn't have been much fun if they'd all survived to adulthood. I don't think a suburb can support 4,000 adult American toads.

Before I can do anything with crustaceans though, I have to wait for my copper test to get here. Crustaceans are very sensitive to copper, which is in algaecide, which I had to use a lot of this summer when the tadpoles' addition of organic matter and hot temperatures caused an explosive algal bloom. Changing out the water isn't a big deal and I'll have to partially drain the pond in the spring anyway, but I want to know exactly what the levels are. I'll have to drain the pond to divide the water lilies, btw: I started with three and this year each of them made at least two babies!

[decolonize-the-left]

The White Hollowness, how I loathe it. I want to have culture that isn’t just American^tm

When the Italian hand meme came about for a bit I loved it bc I do that on a regular basis unironically 🤌 but great grandpa decided no no Italian when he got here so he didn’t teach the language to any of his kids so it was immediately lost. We still love our garlic, our pasta, mi mama says scuzi rather than excuse me. Traditions? Nope. History? Absolutely not.

My dad had frikken lederhosen growing up and yet again nothing was passed down from German heritage. Great grandpa + grandma came over and idk I guess they just stopped >:/

Try to engage with what should technically be part of my culture and just feel like such an outsider.

We more than likely have relatives out in the respective countries that we know nothing about and have no way of finding or connecting with them. We were essentially severed from our roots

Instead I’m stuck here with baseball, beer, hamburgers, guns, 4th of July, etc. like there’s a lot that is white American culture but it’s all like? Really superficial when you think about it if that makes sense?

This is getting long I’m sorry but I wanted to tell you I liked/appreciated your recent post about it. I didn’t think about how some of the experiences would be similar to some native people but it makes sense. It’s not the same by any means but like you said, there could be more similarities than one would think.

Colonization is just such a poison. It’s hurt and or destroyed any country it’s..well, colonized. It’s like an invasive species if that makes any sense to anyone but me. You put this where it shouldn’t be (not it’s natural habitat) and it proceeds to destroy the entire ecosystem

I hope you have a good night!

Felt. That's how the Mexican side of my family is too, just scraps of culture. I never even learned Spanish cuz nobody taught me. We got some food and a couple things to light a candle for and That's it. My grandma was a first gen immigrant. If I didn't already know that though, I wouldn't believe it because she's assimilated so much.

I'm old enough to have my own family now and it's insane how performative and hollow it feels to try celebrating things none of us are actually invested in or believe in. But if we don't celebrate Easter or Christmas... We have almost nothing. We were left with hardly anything.

So I definitely get the feeling of celebrations being really superficial.

I'm glad you liked the post ✌️

[xlovingcupcakex]

Story 1#

Back at one of the jobs that I've had when I was 19, I was working at a crab factory. Typical seasonal job. We were making those crab skulls filled with crab meat. It was a seasonal job.

So, we were about 15-20 people, depending on the month. 8 people were permanent workers, where depending on the person they had from 4 to 20 years of experience of working at the factory.

So, at that point I've worked there for 4 months. I've worked since the beginning of the season, and the highest peak of the season was approaching, so our boss hired more people. One of them was... We'll call him Ditto.

Ditto was... Really awkward at first. My boss asked me to give him a ride to and from work, since walking 1.5 km was too much for him, and I was taking the ferry anyways since I've lived far away, on another island. I agreed since I love helping people and I love driving my car.

So, it was Ditto's first day at work, and he came to the country the day before. Understandably, he asked me if I minded going to a grocery store after work, since he needed to buy food. Obviously, I told him that it wasn't a problem and that was that. Or so I've thought.

Chat, we get into the car, right? And so I start driving my car to the nearest grocery store and we have a small conversation. You know, the usual stuff, like age, general likes, relationship status, hobbies and the like. So far so good. He's being really friendly, which was nice enough, since I was the only person that was his age, I thought it was perfectly understandable. Turns out we both like alternative metal. Cool. Our passenger princess (Ditto) plays music in the car.

Then he suddenly starts to compliment my English skills. Now, the thing is, English is not my first language, but because of school I've learned to speak with an/a American/British accent, but I avoid using it with native speakers since I'm always self conscious and scared that they'll think I'm mocking them or something. Yes, I do tend to overthink and I do tend to worry too much.

So I've explained the above and made a joke how I sound like Glados from Portal whenever I use a British accent, and he goes (very very flirty) "I wouldn't mind you talking like a robot lady. I would actually really appreciate it."

Chat, hear me out. I know some people are just friendly/flirty, but the situation becomes much worse later on. To start off, the dude has a girlfriend. From the sounds of it, she sounded fucking amazing. Hella smart. Got into doctor studies. A year older.

So at this point I kinda gave him a subtle sideye. The "dude, why" sideye. But I continue driving since I don't want to crash my car and die yet. So I just mutter a "oh, that's nice/thanks"

Nothing much was said after that until after we did the groceries and I was dropping him off. As mentioned, back then I used to take a ferry, so time was kind of scarce for me since I spent 2-3h each day commuting to work.

So, the dude is really slow. My grandma moves on a wheelchair and even she is faster than him. So by the time I grab the groceries I thought he would have taken out the bike (he rode the bike from the house to the ferry, and I was supposed to get him from the ferry and then drive to work. Since I was dropping him off after grocery shopping we packed the bike as well).

But he did not. And since I wanted to take the ferry on time (otherwise I would have had to wait for 45min) I just walked up and I was about to grab the bike.

Listen, our hands touch. I don't think much of it. But him? He blushed. Hard. He kinda shyly took his hand away, and then went like, "TeeHee what a coincidence."

It does become worse. Since he looks at the clock and suggest that I stay for tea/coffee. At that point my alarm bells kinda ticked off and there's no way I'm going to stay with this dude one on one more than I have to. So I say no and that I'm going home.

NOW, here's a list of things he used to do at work:

1) I listened to music during work, since we could and I didn't see why not. Just casually killing crabs and listening to Killing Floor 2 soundtrack along with Doom.

I've had some experience at that point, and the leader had terrible English skills, so I guess he naturally went to me whenever he didn't understand something or didn't know what to do. Which is totally fine! What was not fine, is the way how he went around with it.

Instead of tapping me on the shoulder, he would stand beside me or behind me, almost breathing down my neck, just waiting for me to notice him. He would also constantly come up with excuses to talk to me about non work related things. I'm naturally a person who is dedicated to whatever work I do, so I tend to try hard.

2) He would constantly try to invite me over, saying how he wanted to "thank me", how he would bake a cake for me and stuff. I'm going to remind you, dude had a girlfriend at that point. Apparently she also didn't know he had a coworker that was his age (me).

3) Oh, yeah. Forgot to say this, but the car situation? At some point he said something along the lines of "I really admire your confidence", because we were talking about how I was supposed to go to an aquapark with a few other coworkers, and apparently Ditto was unknowingly invited as well.

To which I asked him what he meant. Ditto then gestured towards my chest and cleavage and my tight clothing, no words. In case you have a question, yes, I'm fat. So after I tilt my head, he finally continues and becomes flustered and tries to explain that suddenly his mom had breast cancer, so she has always been ashamed of showing herself at such places. I feel bad for his mom, I really do. Especially since my mom had cancer when I was younger. But back then, I really didn't understand what his mom having cancer had to do with me. He was trying to insinuate something, probably, but I cared too little to look into it.

There's probably a lot that I've forgotten, but that's the gist of it. Lucky I didn't have to deal with him for long, since he was supposed to only work during the peak season, plus after it became colder his roommate was driving the car to work (they usually used a bike), so he didn't have to carpool with me. Obviously tried to make a connection, but I'm happy he left me alone after going to his home county.

But yeah, that's the first story!