#maritza: discourse.

[tearfest]

ㅤㅤtruth be told, maritza had known that her destiny would be to marry thomas shelby, not his brother. even when her father had promised her to him one night, with all of the shelby brother's present — tucked away in their private room in the garrison. even then, when she'd felt the weight of finn's hand against her thigh, she'd known that he'd be no more than her future brother-in-law, because her heart already belonged to someone else. weeks had passed since, and her feelings became all the more evident. especially now as she could feel his raw, pulsating cock bury deeper and deeper inside of her with each bounce of her hips atop of his.

ㅤㅤmoans inevitably poured as she repeatedly took every perfect inch that he had to offer, wetness dripping down to his balls when he spoke words she'd been dying to hear. hums of agreement escaped plump petals, manicured nails combing through his locks until they dragged down and along the back of his neck; gasping as the cool air hits now exposed breasts before shuddering against him when his lips found the buds. she found herself shrugging free of her jacket and blouse, leaving her in no more than the skirt that was wrapped around her middle; panties having gotten lost somewhere along the way. she wanted to strip bare for him, for him to feel every inch of her skin pressed against his suited one — to let everyone see him claim maritza guerrera in her entirety, like she was the finest prize to be won. but then he says it, and the knots in her stomach came undone with a loud moan that only got muffled by his kiss, arms twining snugly around his shoulders to hold him close as her hips continued to crash rhythmically against his. " sí, tu esposa... y mr shelby, mi marido. " pure passion had her slipping into her mother tongue when she broke the kiss to speak, sugaring a few messy ones along his jawline between words. " te amo, mi esposa. te amo."

tommy was completely infatuated with her now. everything had changed, and it felt like the marriage was happening right here in this place in front of everyone’s eyes and the wedding night was taking place seconds after. he ignored the consequences of this alliance when it happens eventually, considering she was promised to finn. but now it seemed like there was some explanation needed and his little brother would take it well considering he was not john or arthur for that matter. still, it was something to think about and how her father was going to take it. either way, this marriage was happening with or against everyone’s wishes. all he could think about right now was breeding her and fucking her hard on this bench, having her all to himself.

looking up at her once she changed positions and pushed him against the bench right below, he felt her sink onto his cock with her legs straddling him. his balls crushed under her weight with every thrust as she rode his thick and massive cock, caressing her thighs and staring at her with lust and love for the first time in almost a year. “everyone will see then. the two of us, together. no arguements. no objections. fuck everyone else, fuck what they think. it’s just you and me. you’ll be my wife with everyone as witness.” his hand gripped her soft thigh, moving it to her ass for a squeeze before moving it up to undress her top and bra, moving his lips to her tits for a suck. “maritza. maritza shelby. all mine. my perfect wife.” he grunted softly snd pulled her in for another hungry and possessive kiss, tongues clashing for dominance and saliva dripping all over each other’s lips while they fucked passionately on the bench, feeling his balls coated with her entirely.

[tearfest]

ㅤㅤmaritza couldn't tell if the lab was just extra stuffy that day, or if it was just the physical tension between the two taking its usual toll on her. golden locks were held back in a claw clip, snug fitting lab coat unbuttoned; revealing the pretty white blouse tucked into her light-green pencil skirt — still clutching the clipboard containing recently discussed test results. " thank you again, sir— for giving me the opportunity to prove myself on such a high profile case. " the biggest of her career thus far, and she'd only been working at the lab for nearly three years now. " i promise i won't let you down. "

closed starter for @velvetdesirez.

[tearfest]

ㅤㅤ" what is it that you're not telling me? "

closed starter for @sturmboe, 2/2.

[americangirlstar]

why each american girl is banned from the aux cord on road trips, contemporary edition

Lindsey Bergman: you know how i said elizabeth cole’s playlist was solely meme songs? lindsey’s is even more extensive with several remixes and ytps added in for flavor

Kailey Hopkins: she literally only plays ocean ambience

Marisol Luna: her music ALWAYS gets the dancers hyped and since there’s like three of them they just end up encouraging each other and the bus gets very chaotic

Jess McConnell: she doesn’t play music, just full-length story-based dnd podcasts

Nicki Fleming: is not prepared to deal with the discourse that divides the bus into a warzone when she puts on dear evan hansen

Mia St. Clair: she’s really into emilie autumn which is great except a lot of her songs can get very Adult™ and gwynn is in the car

Chrissa Maxwell: she plays nothing but the mean girls musical

Gwen Thompson: lindsey stirling (good) gwen pulling out her violin to play along (awkward) when it’s not lindsey stirling it’s full violin concertos that last for like twenty minutes (oh no)

Sonali Matthews: jess plays dnd podcasts. sonali exclusively plays horror podcasts. when forced to put on actual music, she will put on the heathers musical soundtrack which, you guessed it, starts an intense Discourse™

Lanie Holland: she only plays bird calls occasionally interspersed with her infodumps on said birds

Kanani Akina: “kanani the steven universe soundtrack is GREAT and we all love it but can we listen to one (1) other thing? it’s been fourteen hours” “well i have the little mermaid 2 and lilo & stitch soundtracks i guess” “...are those the only things on your phone?”

McKenna Brooks: you remember in the historical post when i said ivy climbed on top of the bus one time after getting too amped up? yeah mckenna does that every time

Saige Copeland: she puts on “michael in the bathroom” and hits the “repeat song” button

Isabelle Palmer: somehow always picks like the WORST disney channel soundtracks

Grace Thomas: they’ve never actually let her on the aux cord cause they know she’ll put on something french and they’ll have to argue about it. little do they know she honestly just really wants to listen to olivia rodrigo for ~some reason~

Lea Clark: she really only listens to like ten songs (max) at a time and puts the playlist on repeat until the music stops giving her emotions

Gabriela McBride: unironically (and unfortunately, canonically) plays glee songs

Tenney Grant: swiftie (derogatory) 

Logan Everett: it’s a LOT of heavy metal angst that tends to blow the speakers out

Z Yang: she has a LOT of illegal songs. not just “illegally downloaded,” like “we’re not sure how the HELL she found this bootleg recording of a musical that’s not out yet” or “how did you get your hands on the beyoncé ‘shadowland’ demo” and it’s starting to worry them

Luciana Vega: somehow she always ends up segueing her song choice into a talk about the endless void of space

Blaire Wilson: the only music she’s into right now are nonsense songs created sometime around 2010 on youtube, consisting only of remixed movie syllables

Joss Kendrick: never turns off the rwby playlist

Kira Bailey: she plays music from those animated movies in the 90s that were clearly only made to rip off disney’s style in an attempt to make a quick buck except she actually likes these soundtracks and the only one that’s actually good is anastasia which is stuck in a mess of other crap

Makena Williams: within a few songs she’ll get bored and turn on kennie jd videos instead

Evette Peeters: her music taste is either eight-minute long ballads that give everyone existential crises or intrumental classical pieces that last an hour

Maritza Ochoa: her playlist is 95% different covers of “holding out for a hero.” good song itza but we need some variety

Corinne Tan: it’s just the frozen soundtrack(s) and nothing else

Gwynn Tan: she will play the matilda musical on repeat. if anyone complains she will immediately change the music to whatever genre they hate the most. they have never expressed this hatred out loud but she always gets it right which is starting to freak them out

[tearfest]

ㅤㅤ" not in a threatening way? like that's even possible. you probably watched me pee, saw who i fucked. sicko. what— did you fuck my car up too? " emerald eyes were illuminated by a sick excitement as she blinked up at him, neck lessening it's strain when he slouched. a thoughtful serial killer — huh. she doesn't know what it says about her, being so comfortable in his presence after his confession. probably what she already knew: that her definition of justice was different to how the law she'd swore to uphold would define it. in a sense, her and ' vincent ' were two like-minded souls; only she'd never dare, or even think to act on her grievances.

ㅤㅤgetting all the credit for solving the case would be a sure-fire way to second promotion in as many years. she could solve it properly, get the credit by outing her newfound friend, but she didn't want to stop his work. and whilst pinning it on someone was unethical, and illegal, it paled in comparison to the horrendous nature of the crimes the victims had committed, and so she just doesn't care. she was smart, and seemingly so was he, so a set-up would be easy work, but it made her slightly nervous. she'd never used her smarts to break the law before. " what, is your father a bad guy too? if you'd kill him, i mean. you said it yourself: you only kill bad guys. " bad father's — more common ground. " but i know about the v's. it's what i was taking to the lab. there were tiny traces of handle from the blade you used. sloppy. " there was nothing sloppy about him. his lair was on par with her lab for cleanliness. a small hand extends then, waiting for him to take it. " but— you have yourself a deal. they'll only know what i want them to know— what you want them to know. and the real big, bad wolf can keep doing what he does best. on one condition, though. " hand curls into a fist before he could take it, eyes narrowing up at him. " you tell me your real name. it's only fair — you've been following me for god knows how long. "

"well, yes, but not in a... threatening way. i was curious. i needed to know more about you." how could one not follow someone in a threatening way? but max was meticulous and logical. he had methods that he stuck to. sure, he followed the men around so he could find times where they'd be alone... but this was a different kind of following. research based, he told himself. he figured out how she took her coffee, optimal playlists that she gravitated towards at a given time during the day... he was good at what he did. professional, even. if he didn't have a bloodlust, maybe he could be a really good private investigator.

"i think you should still get the win for figuring out more than anyone has. i want to give you someone to pin this on." he felt heat within his chest, trying to prevent himself from grinning as widely as his lips were threatening. mischievous curl that could seem like he was lying, but he was just excited. his plan was working so far. he settled onto the backs of his feet, trying to slouch so she felt less intimidated by his stature. "my father, the real vincent. i know i could just kill him and be done with it, but... i would much rather watch him squirm. he has this little black book full of people who have worked with him discreetly. sure, not all of the killings are from there but a lot are..." he trailed off, thinking back to some killings where he snapped because a man was becoming too dangerous towards his sister, or a friend of his. but those weren't methodical like the ones he was describing. "we're the same height, same shoe size... i could set him up. i mean, i've already done it. it's subtle, i'm sure no one even noticed, but i've carved a 'v' behind each victim's ear. a stupid thing to do, but it's something someone like him would do. i'll give you this big, bad wolf... as long as you keep the rest of the things i do away from prying eyes."

[tearfest]

ㅤㅤ" callie rang me this morning. " her spoon continued to mindlessly stir at the last few pieces of cereal still swimming in the milk from her bowl, gaze glued to the soggy grains; unable to bring herself to look at him from across the kitchen island. " she said that she'd seen you with another girl. "

closed starter for @fxcdboys.

[nrhardin]

Cemetery Boys Blog

Like Carry On, Aiden Thomas does a great job thoroughly explaining how the families get their powers and how they use them (something that did not realize was missing from the Harry Potter series until I read books that actually explained how magic works). This class has taught me that I really enjoy when an author fully and logically explains the mechanics of magic in a given world.

Similarly to how I never gave any thought to the innerworkings of magic before this class, I have never given much thought to what it would be like to be a ghost. Julian’s experience, from having to witness the girls at school spread rumors about his family to standing there while his best friend talk about how worried they are about him, and how they didn’t know he was dead was heartbreaking.

Julian as a character is so incredibly fascinating. First of all, his reaction to being dead, and in turn being a spirit, is so incredibly different than how I would react. As you may guess, I have never died and found myself as a paranormal form that can move through solid objects, but knowing myself, I would probably have at least a slight mental break down. After the initial shock wears of, Julian seems to take it all in stride. I knew I was going to like his character when his top three priorities were checking to make sure his friends were okay, figuring out when he could move things Poltergeist-style now that he was a ghost, and eating. All this to say, Julian is a Scorpio. I wholeheartedly agreed with Maritza when she correctly guessed he was a Scorpio. No one but a Scorpio would react to people calling them hot, but obnoxious by saying “the important part is I’m hot.”

I will admit, I was a little nervous when Yadriel revealed he was transgender to him, but I think he reacted in a way a lot of cisgender kids in this generation who grew up in an environment either accepting or neutral to transgender people would react: unbothered and sympathetic. The book navigates queer experiences in such an incredible way. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself when reading the quote “Queer folk are like wolves…we travel in packs” because that is absolutely true (I currently live with three other people and we are all queer). Having a book like this is some important not just for representation, but for kids who are queer or are struggling with their identities to know the importance of having a supportive community- a found family if you will- around them. I’ll be honest, I got a little emotional when Julian crossed out Yadriel’s deadname in the yearbook.

While I think this would be a particularly powerful book to read as a queer child, it has overarching lessons all children should learn, but aren’t typically exposed to. Namely, the fact that you should not feel obligated to place other people’s feelings or comfort before your own. So many children, especially young girls, are expected to placate the feelings of others even if they feel disrespected or uncomfortable. The discourse Yadriel goes through when someone uses an incorrect pronoun or his deadname reflects, at least generally, thoughts every child has at some point: Why am I excusing the behavior of others when it hurts or disrespects me? Why am I expected to carry the burden of other people’s mistakes? Why are the feelings of adults or authority figures seemingly more valuable than my own? 

[interviewswith-blog1]

A Note to the Reader

The following series of interviews aims to be in conversation with Daisy Hernandez’s memoir, A Cup of Water Under My Bed, focusing on the ways in which the hybridity and two-ness of being a daughter of immigrants, or growing up in an immigrant family characterize experiences of language, family religion, personal religion, terms in the mother tongue (for Hernandez it was una y mugre and envidia). I wanted to call this project “Interviews with a Few Daughters of Immigrants,” because Daisy Hernandez dedicated her book para todas las hijas, for all the daughters.  There is so much to be said about identity formation and cultural crossover from a female perspective; this is not to say that this series of interviews has a specifically or intentionally feminist lens, but allows the things that attribute to a hyphenated or hybrid cultural identity shine through on their own.

These interviews are meant to expose truths through the use of personal histories and dialogue, creating an environment where stories flow free, unrestrained by fixed and rigid questions, but rather a conversational and testimonio style, as seen in Arnaldo Cruz-Malave’s Queer Latino Testimonio, Keith Haring, and Juanito Xtravaganza. The main idea is to highlight cultural crossovers in immigrant experiences across the board, in order to bring to light conversations about common experiences including but not limited to assimilation, prejudice, class-anxiety and social mobility (real and imagined, as well as illustrate the social-political climate and general attitudes towards hegemonic American society and immigrant communities, from within, and from without.  It is crucial to consider how to make a space for oneself, as a body of color, and my questions for the interviewee’s will be asking in what way have they already, or will do, or have observed others doing,  to create that space for not only themselves, but for other immigrant PoC around them.

Throughout all of these interviews, we hear Daisy Hernandez’s voice, urging us to celebrate, examine, and discuss cultural crossovers not just within our immigrant cultures (like her own Cuban-Colombian family), and emphasize the intense diversity and variegation in which we experience life in America, the building of a hyphenated identity.  Much like Jennifer Krause’s analysis of Loida Maritza Perez’s novel Geographies of Home, “Madness, Entropy, and Paradox,” where she clarifies the nature of having a hyphenated identity as something not composed of two clear cut parts but rather a mixing, kind of churning, reality in both sides occasionally fight for dominance with one another; thus, it actually creates a new identity, stemming from but maybe not at all the same as the one derived from the home country/countries.

The concept behind this project stems very much from a desire to understand my own existence in relation to the sociological milieu of cultural identity in the U.S., striving to make this project a tangible and very real encompassing of individual and collective narratives, much like Hernandez’s memoir. I am very concerned with matters of identity, religion, and language that have colored my experience growing up in the U.S. because I am a first generation immigrant. Topics of language, class anxieties, and political clashes like those in Hernandez’s own family with her Cuban Colombian heritage, her socio-economic background of origin as well as the one she would grow into in adulthood, as well as the voices of those inside the family in the mother tongue versus the voices of people on the outside like white teachers in public school, are familiar topics in every immigrant narrative. In terms of language, I would always hear the word 陌生人, or stranger (mo sheng ren), because my mother raised me on her own, with my dad working three jobs as a cabbie, a custodian at a grad school, and a waiter at Chinese restaurant where the boss lady told my father that she’d help link him up to someone who could get him a green card. My mother didn’t speak English (to this day, it’s still very broken), so the idea of strangers was heavily ingrained in my mind.  Stranger became equated with American, with things like mac and cheese, paper towels, and juice pouches. This word also covered people who did not speak Chinese.  But anyone who did was automatically not a stranger, whether they were from Guangzhou, Shanshi, Shanghai, Guizhou, or Beijing, it didn’t matter.  It was a motley kind of community.  There was also a routine I remembered well, my mom waking me up early in the morning to drive my father to his jobs, in the old $900 powder blue Honda that my parents sold both their wedding rings to buy (Chinese wedding rings are only symbolic and relatively inexpensive, as a result of the Cultural Revolution), pulling me up from bed, with me pretending to be asleep while she dressed me. In the car I went, wrapped in a comforter and put in the back seat.  But then adolescence came fast, and then adulthood.  All of sudden, I was not in Flushing anymore, with all the familiars.  I was back in stranger land, in rich suburban white Chicago, and I experienced a taste of the terror my mother must have felt when she entered a sea of people that had nothing in common with her, now, nothing in common with me. I experienced Daisy Hernandez’s feeling that if maybe she bought a $20 MAC lipstick instead of using the 99 cent kind, maybe things would change for her. They didn’t. And even if I wore the right clothes and said the right things, and brought the right lunch to school (or bought it in the cafeteria instead), I wouldn’t be a stranger to these people, and they wouldn’t be to me, but I swear to this day, I have difficulty navigating these strange spaces.  There are so many narratives that share aspects of this one, and I wanted to use these testimonios to give exposure to them. I also think that this series can be useful in terms of understanding one’s racial, social, cultural, and political identity in the Trump Era, and from there, think of ways to create new discourse that can create a viable and sustainable society, and safe spaces for bodies of color, but also a society in which the body of color can be completely autonomous in its self-identification and definition.

Constantine and her dad, 2001

I hope these interviews can speak for themselves, as Kelsey Juarez, Hera Syed, and Gordiya Khademian speak on the way their own immigrant or “third-culture” experiences, to map out the way in which the hybridity of their identity transformed as they near adulthood. Hera Syed, 23, is a recent graduate of NYU in Middle Eastern and Islamic Studies.  Kelsey Juarez, 22, is a graduating senior at NYU in CAS, studying English.  Gordiya Khademian, 22, is also a graduating senior at NYU in CAS, studying Politics.

[tearfest]

ㅤㅤ" you know you can trust me, right? " and, in spite of all her secrets, she meant it.

closed starter for @fxcdboys.

[tearfest]

ㅤㅤ" i've been trying to figure you out. " — with a real emphasis on trying.

closed starter for @fxcdboys. figure you out by djo.

[tearfest]

ㅤㅤ" i'm— i'm bleeding? " voice was coloured with disbelief and her hands were coloured with blood; a red, sticky ichor pooling underneath her palms as she clutched at her stomach. it made no sense to her: there was blood, but no pain. just a strange and fuzzy warmth as the blood continued to ooze, staining the torn fabric of her shirt. her eyes dropped to her hands, staring at the gore with confusion, gaze alternating between theirs and the bloodied knife still in their hands. " i was stabbed— you— you stabbed me. "

open starter for anyone. your muse stabbed her... only your muse knows why! p.s. she's a csi and her father's a casino owning mobster, so the reason could be linked to either of those, or anything else!

[tearfest]

ㅤㅤ" what the hell were you thinking?! you could've been killed. "

closed starter for @ofdamnation, 2/2.

[tearfest]

closed starter for @fxcdboys!

ㅤㅤ" excuse me? mr... tall. " the blonde rudely clears her throat as she reaches up to tap on her tall classmate's shoulder before she's folding her arms over her chest — her bag nearly slipping down her shoulder as she frowns up at the handsome distraction. " you sit in front of me. for third period? and you're in the way, like, all the time. don't get me wrong — the fact that you're tall is definitely a good thing, but it's not good for my education because half of the board is covered by your big head. "

[tearfest]

ㅤㅤ" i mean no offence when i say this, ma'am— but i'm a little tired of hearing you talk so highly, and so frequently, of him. "

closed starter for @novemindie, based on.

[tearfest]

ㅤㅤ" babe, you know that you're not supposed to be here. you're gonna make me look like a rookie. " she ushered them back and towards the yellow tape, flashing an apologetic smile at the officer's that were trying, and failing, to secure the scene. " besides— it's, what, four in the morning? why are you even awake? "

open to: anyone, 21+. plot: maritza works nights as a crime scene investigator and her and your muse have been dating for a couple months now, but your muse has a tendency to show up at her crime scenes — maybe because they're actually their crime scenes... up to you whether your muse is dating her just to keep tabs on the investigation, or whether they like her, or both!

[tearfest]

ㅤㅤ" i thought you said you didn't care about your girlfriend... "

closed starter for @cupiditvs.