#Because they both work so hard and they both deserve each other's joy and optimism

[redwylde]

I have to say I love the consensus by the fandom that Sonic and Silver interactions are just softer than anything.

The unbridled joy of freedom-and-fun-loving Sonic the Hedgehog paired with the unextinguishable hope of a dreamer from a devastated future sharing the wonder they both feel for the world around them is just so pure.

There's just something about Silver seeing the clear, blue sky in Sonic and Sonic being reminded why he loves life and the world through Silver finding joy in mundane and yet new and wonderful things.

[toa-kirhan]

First time watching ToH S1E19 (Young Blood, Old Souls). Thoughts below:

Detailed thoughts:

A fantastic finale to wrap up the first season of ToH! The team have already set a high benchmark for themselves, I wonder how they’ll surpass it in the next 2(-ish, I heard season 3 is made up of 3 specials).

These two episodes have been great for demonstrating Eda and Luz’s relationship. Although they’re only known each other for so long, Eda and Luz truly love and care for each other, willing to sacrifice their own health and well-being to protect each other. Luz puts it best herself, “But we’re a family! Us weirdos have to stick together, remember?” That heartbreaking callback to the first episode from Luz really gets at the core of what makes their relationship work.

Luz’s only friends or family that we know of is her mother. Before coming to the Boiling Isles, Luz had no one else, and now that she seems to be stuck there indefinitely (w/ no reception, wifi, or way to charge her phone), she doesn’t even have that. At this point, Eda and everyone else really are the only family that Luz has left.

The same is true for Eda before Luz arrived. Back then, Eda only had King, Hooty, and Owlbert. Her parents are out of the picture, and her only sister pledged herself to a group dedicated to hunting her down and capturing her. Eda made her living scrounging junk that she got from the human world and beached trash slugs, struggling w/ a lifelong curse.

Over the course of the series, Luz’s overwhelming optimism has soothed Eda’s innate pessimism and allowing her to see the joy in things that she’s long dismissed like Moonlight Conjurings, coventions, and attending magic schools by looking at them through the eyes of someone who never had these opportunities to begin with.

Meanwhile, Eda’s pessimism has tempered Luz’s optimism, teaching her to be ready and weary of worldly dangers like Adegast, as well as teaching her patience and resourcefulness (key skills for Luz’s understanding and mastery of glyphs). In a way, Luz and Eda are both students and mentors to each other, especially now that Eda can no longer do magic herself either.

After showing us Lilith at her worst, this episode counters that by revealing the rest of Lilith’s backstory with the thoughts and feelings that drove her actions. Lilith cursed her sister out of jealousy, and due to her refusal to be proven wrong by her sister, she never admitted the truth to her, no matter how much she regretted it, assuring herself that she could solve everything herself by just capturing Eda and having her join the EC w/ her.

I will admit, even though I know the episode wants me to sympathize here w/ Lilith, even if just a little, I still find it hard to forgive her. I can’t believe the fact that Lilith cursed her own sister to become part of the EC, even if she did think it was temporary. Lilith couldn’t just accept Eda beating her and be proud of her sister’s accomplishments? She couldn’t have just waited to apply to the EC later when another spot opened up?

Although similar in setup and premise, I don’t have any issues w/ Amity when she revealed why she stopped being friends w/ Willow for one main reason: Amity was forced to stop seeing Willow. If she didn’t, her parents would have done everything in their power to destroy Willow’s future as a witch. Amity sacrificed her friendship for the sake of Willow. Lilith voluntarily sacrificed her sister’s future for the sake of her own.

While Lilith’s decision to share Eda’s curse at the end of the episode has helped rehabilitate her character, it doesn’t change the years of suffering that Eda went through because of her. Though, ultimately, whether Lilith deserves forgiveness is up to Eda. If she is able to forgive her sister for what she’s done to her, then it’s best to accept her decision.

Edit: With that said, and after some discussion, Amity isn’t without faults either. Although the initial reason why Amity let go of Willow as a friend is understandable, that doesn’t justify Amity’s patronizing behavior towards Willow or her passiveness in letting Boscha and her gang bully Willow for years afterwards, even if she did so to avoid “showing weakness.” Like w/ Lilith and Eda this episode, it was ultimately up to Willow whether to accept her apology or not.

Moving on to Emperor Belos, we’ve gotten a little bit more information about him this episode. As established, Belos instituted the Coven system to limit people’s ability to use magic to 9 basic types based on his claims that doing so goes against the Titan’s wishes. The truth of whether or not Belos himself believes that has yet to be seen. If he doesn’t, he didn’t drop the act in front of Luz.

It isn’t clear what Belos’ plan is, but I suspect it’s to unite the Boiling Isles/the Demon Realms w/ the Human Realm on the Day of Unity given his obsession w/ the portal and his assurance to Luz that he won’t simply invade it. The one question I have is Belos’ motivation for this, but as established above, unless we find out more about Belos and his powers, I can only guess as to the reasons why.

As with any good finale, this episode has completely changed the series’ status quo. Both Eda and Lilith are outlaws now and have to deal w/ a weakened curse. Similarly, Lilith’s magic is weakened while Eda can no longer do magic at all, like Luz. Whether Luz, Willow, and Gus will be allowed to continue studying at Hexside is unclear, as is Amity’s aspirations of joining the EC (considering her idol, Lilith, almost got petrified by them along w/ her crush’s mentor).

Plot threads that still need to be resolved: Amity’s crush on Luz, who is writing letters impersonating Luz to her mother, finding a cure for the curse (if there is one), the truth about Belos, the Day of Unity, and how to return Luz to the Human Realm (if she ever does).

General thoughts:

History book! We’re getting lore! Who’s the author?!

The giant skeletons are Titans! Also, the Boiling Isles are part of the Demon Realms, or at least connected to them.

So all magical species evolved on the Boiling Isles? Then where did the Titans get their magic? Is it because they’re demons?

Of course only the supreme leader and their cadre of most loyal enforcers have full control over magic. Why would it be any way else?

Wait, are wild witches turned into stone? I thought they were just bound to a coven. Is that what’s going to happen to Lilith when Eda escapes?

Oh, we’re not even getting the OP! We’re just going straight into the story!

Eda has quite the armory! I don’t rate keeping a loaded crossbow on the wall tho, that’s a lot of unnecessary tension on the bow limbs, not to mention how dangerous that is in general.

King sees Eda as his family ;v;

Belos’ eyes are blue now. Did he just drain the magic from someone else’s palisman? Oh, they change w/ what magic he uses?

I don’t see how Lilith honestly expects Eda to just roll over and submit to the Emperor, especially after admitting that she cursed her. If Lilith promised that to the Emperor, then I can only wonder what he’ll do when Eda’s inevitably rejects his offer.

The Wild Witch of Bonesborough is an amazing title.

Does Belos want to take over the human world?

Unsurprisingly, Belos refuses to cure Eda. I shouldn’t be surprised that a blindly loyal ideologue accepts every word that their leader tells them, but I am still disappointed in Lilith. Also, Lilith cursed her sister but can’t even undo it herself? Or is it just because she was in front of the Emperor and still processing his betrayal?

Perry Porter? Per Reporter?

First Petrification in 30 years? So that’s this world’s version of capital punishment.

The Conformatorium? We’re returning there again? Will we get to see-

Warden Wrath! Oh, he’s way less scary when Luz has magic. Either that, or Luz is way more scary when she has magic. I’m leaning towards both.

“Draw me a map!”

It seems like the Emperor’s grasp on power isn’t as tight as he thinks if the common people have doubts on whether Eda should be petrified in the first place.

Piniet, Bump, and Snaggleback crowd cameo!

So the regular guards can’t use magic?

Eda ;-;

“But we’re a family!” ;_;

NO, NOT THE PORTAL!

“I love you, Eda.”

“I love you too, kiddo.” ;_; o7

THEY’RE GOING TO THE HUMAN WORLD?!

GLYPH MAGIC DOESN’T WORK THERE?!

Lilith used to have curly hair. I wonder what causes all the hair color changes on the Boiling Isles (first the Cawthornes, then the Blights).

Are those the Blights in the background?

Eda turns into an owl demon and the EC just throws stones at her until she leaves? I’m doubting the EC’s competency more and more each episode.

Lilith’s magic still works? I guess that’s because the human world isn’t as innately magical as the Boiling Isles w/ the Titan, so glyphs fizzle out, but a witch’s magic is a innate part of their biology.

EC military band uniform!

Lilith wants Luz to rescue Eda on her own? I mean, sure, her glyph magic has gotten better (look how much she can do w/ those small sheets of paper), but just Luz on her own?

WHY DOES BELOS HAVE A FLESHY THRONE ROOM UNDER THE CONFORMATORIUM?

Augustus Porter! That’s his full name!

Eyeball eater! Potion seller! Principal Bump!

OH! That’s a disaster for the Emperor! His regime has to cover up the live footage of a chanting crowd demanding for Eda’s release, the most wanted witch on the Boiling Isles!

OH THAT PAN FROM THE CROWD TO BELOS AND LUZ UNDERGROUND!

SHE GOT HIM IN THE EYE!

What’s his scheme! He doesn’t want to invade the human world?

THE PORTAL! LUZ JUST DESTROYED HER ONLY WAY HOME!

WHAT! THE PAIN SHARING SPELL!

DOUBLE HETEROCHROMIA SISTERS!

AWW THE LIGHT SPELL! JUST LIKE THE OP! LUZ’S FIRST SPELL IS NOW EDA’S FIRST TOO!

IS THAT THE NEW SEASON ANTAGONIST?

THIS SERIES HAS ALSO HAS A SECRET BASEMENT PORTAL?!

OH THEY CHANGED THE ED TOO!

[missramu]

Let’s keep writing about kisses, shall we?

Kiss number 20: on a scar.

I haven't written nsfw in a while, so if this sucks, I'm sorry;; I did my best

// NSFW, scars

 Ramuda has always been the clingy one. As a being created in a rather solitary and neglected situation, the fashion designer has always (desperately) looked for warmth and comfort. Ramuda could not stand the silence nor the cold that being alone meant; because it remembered him of older days, when he couldn’t be himself and had no option but to obey.

However, that had changed, as well as him. As he looked in the mirror, the pink-haired man smiled, softly caressing his own skin. Months ago, he decided it was time to get things done, and, after getting Jakurai’s help and all of Shinjuku’s Central Hospital, Ramuda underwent surgery, getting his so-desired mastectomy done.

At first, he didn’t think this had much to do with Chuuoku; but his whole transition defied their rules, and at first they weren’t willing to accept Ramuda as what he was, a man. As he gained freedom, he went forward: from getting his first binder to starting with the testosterone injections, everything kept secret from the women in power until he decided he had enough of hiding. Now, getting this surgery meant a lot for him, as a symbol of freedom and independence. A symbol of how he would never hide his true self again, because now he had nothing to hide.

Jakurai couldn’t be happier for him. The first thing that crossed the doctor’s mind was the things the younger man could do now that he didn’t have to use the binder, such as going to the beach without worrying about having to bathe with a shirt. Another one of his thoughts told him to monitor the whole process, but since plastic surgery wasn’t his field, he could only help from afar, collaborating with both Ramuda’s surgeon and endocrine.

And, after two months, what remained in Ramuda’s chest were two scars under what once made him feel oppressed, two scars he showed off with pride and allowed him to finally breathe.

He stood naked in front of the mirror, as Jakurai, already wearing his pajamas, watched him from their bed. The dim lights created a sensual yet tender atmosphere, where Ramuda’s smile increased as his fingers traced his own skin, caressing the scars. When was the last time he felt this confident?

Jakurai immediately caught Ramuda’s train of thought and, as soon as a tear of joy fell from his sky blue eyes, the older man hugged him from behind. It was strange for Ramuda, being the one receiving the hug instead of giving it; but he wasn’t going to complain. He felt warm and safe in the doctor’s arms.

“You look beautiful, Ramuda”.

Jakurai whispered, lowering his head to meet Ramuda’s ear. It was close enough to make the younger man get goosebumps.

“Hm~ Jakurai gave me a compliment!”

Ramuda couldn’t help but tease, because it was still difficult for him to accept compliments. Jakurai understood his situation, since Ramuda had always being told he was just a disposable tool and received no encouragement or cherishment (being his Posse the exception); but that gave him the more reason to praise his partner.

“I mean it, Ramuda. I truly mean when I say you are like a sun to my eyes. Full of light and optimism, bringing energy and life into my own”.

Now, the youngest blushed. How dare he be so bold with his thoughts? Ramuda knew he loved him, and he loved him back deeply; but it was difficult to manage so many emotions. He felt overloaded, and a bit overpowered. Jakurai sensed it.

With ease, the doctor took the fashion designer in his arms, carrying him to their bed. Ramuda hugged his neck during the short journey, clinging to him as if his life depended on it. Once in the bed, Jakurai placed the smaller man between the pillows, sitting by his side and caressing his cheeks. Ramuda was eager to read the older man’s intentions, so he raised his body a little bit, just enough to meet his lips and start kissing him while the doctor’s hand travelled from his cheeks to his chest, hazily caressing his nipples and making him shiver in anticipation.

Tenderly, the lavender-haired man broke their kiss, moving his head down to his partner’s chest. With the same delicacy, he kissed his scars, showing he truly meant it when he said he loved Ramuda. This made the younger smile, who quickly dried a couple of stray tears from his eyes, and allowing his partner to devour him with kisses, ones that quickly travelled from his chest to his vulva.

Supressing a moan wasn’t an easy task, and Jakurai took pleasure on that. He took his chance with his sensitive boyfriend, and started kissing, licking and caressing all of his wet spots, making the smaller man tremble in pleasure, unable to hide his voice and moans. As a payback, Ramuda held to his lavender hair, pulling it when the feelings were too much and as his tongue went deeper inside him. It didn’t take long for the designer to reach his first orgasm, breathing shakily and holding onto the sheets and Jakurai’s hair.

The older man licked his lips, tasting the last remains of his beloved as he looked at him, already a flustered mess. His breathing wasn’t exactly steady, and it caused him to cough a couple of times. This made Jakurai worried; but the pink-haired wasn’t done nor had exhausted his stamina. As soon as the doctor tried to reach to comfort him, the designer took his chance, launching himself to his partner’s neck and starting a passionate kiss that quickly developed into a messy and desperate one. With this, they switched positions; and now Jakurai was the one sitting on the bed as the smaller sat on his still dressed lap, taking his chance to stimulate Jakurai’s hardness with his body. Only they knew how to tease each other.

Words were not needed, as they could only think about intimacy. This concept still scared Ramuda, which was quite ironic: the man loved physical touch, but was scared of this level of intimacy. He was scared that he wouldn’t be enough, that he didn’t deserve such a level of closeness, and that he should give up his power. But Jakurai’s kisses made him remember that he was more than enough, his caresses on his lower back reminded him of their now fixed and unbreakable bond, and with his trust, he reckoned this wasn’t about individual power but their forces together as one, just like in the Kuujaku days.

Ramuda was thankful that Jakurai existed, despite everything he had once said. They’ve had their up and downs, but the doctor still cared for him, despite everything. This love, plus the one Dice and Gentaro gave him, made the pink-haired man feel alive, enough and loved. He couldn’t be more thankful.

Blue eyes met with another blue set, pressing their foreheads together. With tender smiles, they said everything that couldn’t be said with words, Ramuda lifting his body so his partner could get undressed too, although he still had his lips free to play with his nipples. Small hands intertwined with long lavender strands of hair, playing with it as they have always done.

Again, the couple shared a vivid kiss, one where their tongues danced together as hands worked their way through it all. As soon as Ramuda felt Jakurai was done putting the condom, he sat back on his lap, this time making sure to embrace his length inside of him instead of teasing it with wet flesh. Both of them left out soft moans, parting their kiss for a brief moment as Ramuda tried to find the most comfortable position to start riding.

This way, the fashion designer still felt like he had power, being the one that could control the pace and thrusts. He was weak to the sound of their flesh clapping together, and that aroused him even more, making him to speed up the rhythm, even though Jakurai’s hard length wasn’t easy to manage. The doctor placed his hands on Ramuda’s thin hips, reminding him to be careful with his body, as he didn’t want him to get hurt. The pink-haired man bit his own lip, trembling in pleasure as he felt his hands holding him, letting lewd moans out of his throat as his wetness produced more sounds around the doctor’s shaft. Jakurai wasn’t holding his groans either, and Ramuda’s sobs and whimpers turned him on even more.

Soon enough, the taller man took the lead again, carefully making the designer to lay on his back on the bed and thrusting into him after he made himself comfortable to receive his member inside again. The first times they did this, Ramuda was tense. They had to stop because he wouldn’t give in, his vagina completely sealed for the fear of being overpowered. However, time heals: the designer knew he could trust his partner, and Jakurai did his best to give him the pleasure he thinks he deserves.

With his legs crossed around the doctor’s hips, the designer brought his lover closer, deepening the thrusts and provoking more moans until they both were satisfied, Ramuda finishing after Jakurai did.

After getting themselves clean, the doctor laid by the designer in their bed, bringing him to his chest and caressing his short hair. He tenderly kissed his forehead, and, after that, kissed his scars again. As a reminder that he loved the real Ramuda; the one that now was free and knew he was important and loved. His partner, his beloved Ramuda.

[pridesobright]

If you’re up for it, what artist or painting do each of the boys remind you of?

disclaimer: art is subjective, so are people’s opinions, and my choices are based on my perception of the boys’ personalities. you may not agree with me, therefore the paintings might not correspond to what you had imagined… still, i tried to shed a light on my own thoughts, which is something i rarely do on tumblr — i tried to remain as objective and positive as possible!

+ louis —

louis is so fiercely good! supportive, loyal, brave… i’ve never seen someone so witty and intelligent, caring and sensitive. louis shines, louis sparkles!!

but he also tells stories like no else. it is truly fascinating how louis can turn the smallest life experiences into masterpieces!! the raw emotions he’s able to convey in just a sentence: we’re sleeping on our problems like we’ll solve them in our dreams…. it’s easy getting lost into louis’ ocean blue eyes but it’s even easier falling for his talent — through storytelling, louis always shares a positive message and i’m in awe of the way he goes through life despite everything that’s been thrown at him. passionate and driven, louis is authentic and unapologetically himself!

i decided to associate louis with gustav klimt — the artist received a conservative and classical training and began his career painting churches and theaters, following the traditional and historical style popular at the time. quite similar to louis’ mindset at the start of his solo career, klimt focused on what the upper class expected of him! however, he kept developing a more meaningful personal style. one that relied on symbolism and the extensive use of the ornamental gold leaf. his paintings were highly decorative and it is the aesthetic of klimt’s work that made the connection so easy ♡

gustav klimt painted many women in erotic positions, embracing their nudity and a celebration of sexuality, which was controversial at the time. but more than that, the artist depicted loving embraces, abandonment and passion. tenderness. and by coating his paintings in golden powder, klimt created a warm cocoon around his subjects! 1. adele bloch-bauer I - 2. judith I (details) - 3. le baiser (details)

louis is so often associated with the color yellow and it’s easy to understand why — yellow is the most luminous color and is the symbol of happiness, optimism and enlightenment. as a warm color, yellow represents light and creates a sense of hope: it is radiant! gold shares many of the same attributes. it is bright, cheerful and is often associated with love, courage and passion. gold illuminates our world and so does louis!

+ zayn —

zayn is very creative, expressive and imaginative. i’d say he’s cautious and overall very intelligent about his privacy! society will often describe quiet people as mysterious, and it romanticizes anxiety in a way that makes my blood boils… it’s a dangerous culture where people with mental disorders are seen as edgy or cool when in reality they are deeply misunderstood. at times defensive, i believe zayn is strong-willed and values his freedom more than anything!

associating zayn with street art was a given. is there anything more liberating than leaving your trace into the world, anonymously and illegally, without knowing if your work will be painted over in the next few days or a couple of years?

artists such as roa, bansky, kobra, invader or shepard fairey have now made a huge impact, and street art has been popularized. many paintings are known worldwide but before then, you had the travel the world to seek out the artists’ works!

and even if some murals can be seen from afar, they draw you in no matter what. like an invisible pull, some are forcing you to cross the street or climb a few stairs to get closer — zayn draws you in! whether people are affected by his quiet personality, his looks or the sheer quality of his voice, you can’t help but want to learn more about him!

i chose behind the curtain by martin whatson for that very reason! at first cold and unreachable, zayn is full of qualities and life experiences deserving to be uncovered.

martin whatson is a stencil artist working in oslo. looking for beauty in decayed and abandoned urban spaces, he developed his style using grey tones as a basis and adding vibrant colours to bring a splash of life. i also love pull back and behind the wall ♡

+ niall —

to me, niall is the type of person who’s enjoying life as best as he can, and fully appreciating everything there is to offer. whether it be passion, irritation, love, fun or distress. mainly because of his cheerful and bubbly personality, he’s seemingly going through life as if it was a big fest! but don’t be fooled, he knows heartbreak too and there’s more to him!!

niall’s albums feel warm, nostalgic and intimate. we’re being let  in into a part of him without any flourishes. a melody strummed on his  guitar and here we are, transported into the past and reminiscing about  an old lover. niall definitely is a romantic! listening to heartbreak  weather, there is so much tenderness into his songs…

this painting is called manège de cochons by robert delaunay — it is part of a series devoted to modern urban life and popular shows. carried away by a whirlwind of vibrant colors, it recreates the lively atmosphere of the fairgrounds.

it definitely represents niall and his complex mind. the colors, so vibrant, are an ode to his cheerfulness. for delaunay, primary colors and their complements exalt each other by contrast. and the same tone can be perceived differently depending on its intensity or its arrangement!

at first, only the vibrancy and the warmth shine through but just like everyone else’s, niall’s mind is intricate. his emotions are raw and he puts his pain into songs, as if to compartmentalize everything. as if to tame those feelings and memories, maybe too loud at times! the colors aren’t just splash of nuances scattered across the canvas, they are deliberate. with purpose, they tell a story…

+ liam —

liam is good! and he always goes out of his way to do something good. he often tries to be more mindful of his actions. he’s constantly learning and just like everyone else liam makes mistakes, but he actively grows from them!!

liam is extremely talented, funny and charismatic, yet i feel like he’s not easily understood. he’s a very sensitive, sincere and sweet person, and despite everything liam went through, he remains cheerful, generous and courageous!

he is also passionate and pursues many hobbies — be it fashion, art, cooking or comics: he is well-versed in many topics and it’s a real pleasure to now follow him on youtube!!

robert rauschenberg was passionate about many mediums himself, and he incorporated newspapers, photographs and even some objects (undershirt, parasol parts) onto the canvas before adding broad strokes of paint! he kept exploring the boundaries of art and closely followed the current events of the time, using images of space flight and NASA’s photographs into his work — space (tribute 21) is a personal favorite ♡

i actually picked a selection of artworks to match liam’s personality: 1. untitled (red painting) - 2. untitled (red painting) - 3. red interior. i particularly love that last one, as the far-right stripe reminds me of liam’s chevron tattoo!!

for many years now, liam has been associated with red and it’s no surprise at all — red is the color of passionate love, seduction and adventure. strength, vitality and ambition. it used to be seen as the color of fire, a primal life force. to the greeks, red symbolized super-human heroism. liam is a force of nature, strong both physically and mentally. he is hard-working and energetic!

+ harry —

forget about the way harry has been portrayed ever since he was a sixteen-year-old boy. forget about the curls and the dimples. simply observe the person harry is today. take a closer look at what he decides to share with us. pay attention to the way he’s presenting himself.

fine line (the album) takes us on an introspective journey into his deepest emotions — whether it be torment or happiness. and i think it’s fascinating how well-executed his songs are! even in a catchy and happy song such as golden, harry managed to address quite a raw and painful concept: i’m hopeless, broken, so you wait for me in the sky / i don’t want to be alone — it’s heartbreaking, yet you almost wished you could feel it too!

through various allegories and metaphors, harry makes you question yourself. he interrogates you and talks about a reality you didn’t know existed or could relate to. harry is magnetic.

this painting is called composition XI by vassily kandinsky — and i can’t help but compare both harry and vassily. kandinsky was a painter, professor, poet and art theorist, generally credited as the pioneer of abstract art! he spent years creating sensorially rich paintings, and was fascinated by musicians who could evoke images in listeners’ minds. he strove to work with forms and colors that alluded to sounds and emotions!!

in songs like fine line, the music swells and deflates as if it was a beating heart. each track conveys a different emotion and translates a distinct concept! through his melodies, harry aims to make us feel joy, melancholy,  determination or bitterness, even when the lyrics are anything but. his albums leave us speechless and wondering, just like abstract art!

+ overall, this is what art is meant to make you feel! it’s supposed to challenge you. art is meant to make you rethink your boundaries and open up your mind. it’s meant to question you and leave you wanting for more! you are meant to listen to a song several times to fully understand its meaning, and meant to stand in front of a painting for hours to start grasping the artist’s thought process…

yet art remains subjective! depending on your own life experiences and upbringing. art is free for you to interpret as you wish and so is music! i hope you enjoyed this post, thank you for reading it ♡

[scorpiosanssexy]

Sun ~ Sagittarius. Moon ~ Leo. Rising ~ Sagittarius!! CONGRATS ON 100 BABIE YOU DESERVE IT😚

lydia baby thank you so much

I match you with Bokuto Koutarou 

Star Sign: Virgo

Sagittarius Sun: Natives with sun placed in Sagittarius are often curious, always looking out for the next adventure.Bokuto would never say no to any of your next grand ideas, being hide and seek around ikea or going backpacking for 2 weeks, he loves spending time with you. You have a zest for learning which I think something Bokuto sort of lacks, you inspire him to work harder, at least when it comes to school. Your passionate nature also get’s him extrememly fired up, being before a match or a big test, he knows that with you by his side he can do anything. Sagittarius are often described as “funny, cheerful and hard to pin down”. Bokuto loves these qualities about you as he enjoys the banter you have, your optimism and he loves the fact that you susprise him everyday. He never finds the relationship boring thanks to you. 

Leo Moon: Cheerful, warm and dramatic, those are the words usually used to describe leo moons. Bokuto loves the fact that you display your emotions in a such a way, the pair of you are both drama queens but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You understand how each other function and you both know how to fuel each other’s egos (because leo moons have very big egos). You love to entertain your loved one and Bokuto loves to be your captive audience. He is someone who is very easily impressed so no matter what skill you show him you can guarantee that he will react very positively ( he is a simp for you). Furthermore, Leo moons love to be the centre of attention, especially in a relationship. Bokuto always has his attention on you always, he can be a bit clingy but your thrive of people giving you lots of love and affection which he has plenty of. Also Leo moons are extremely loyal and expect the same return with their partner, despite Bokuto’s extroverted persona I believe once he find the right person he will be very loyal, he only has eyes for you. Whenever you come down wearing a sexy outfit he will hype you up and showing off the world that this is his amazing, beautiful girlfriend which is exactly what a leo moon needs in a relationship. Lastly, leo moons are full of self confidence and self love, being a virgo, Bokuto is a perfectionist and sometimes he has lots of self doubts about himself. You are so good at picking him back up, you teach him about the importance of self love and how it is alright to fail the occasional time. To him you are a star who always keeps shining just for him (his pet name for you is star). 

Sagittarius Rising: With Sagittarius on the rising you come across as cheerful and optimistic. Bokuto was first attracted to you because of your postivity you radiated, when he was having an off day in one of his volleyball matches you still kept cheering for him. His heart was going doki doki by the end of that match. You too both radiate postitvity towards each other and you always bring out that famous Bokuto smile. It is also said that Sagittarius Rising tend to have “comedic expressions” and “sparkling eyes”, Bokuto cannot help but let out a hearty laugh whenever he see’s your adorable facial expressions, from your pouting frustration to your laughter, he adores the fact that your face always paints a picture in regards to how you feel. Bokuto isn’t the most receptive so he loves the fact he can see exactly what you are feeling in such a clear way. You crave adventure and freedom as I have mentionned before, however like the sun, this is a default for you (if that makes sense), people always know to come to you if they want to have fun and again this is why Bokuto is very attracted to you. I believe he is attracted to fun loving extroverted girls so when he heard your name in the hallway he declared to Akaashi he had to find out who you were. Your fun loving and carefree attitude caught his attention. Sometimes those with this placement can come across very blunt and honest and personally I do think Bokuto needs this. These traits are present in Akaashi and I believe it forms the foundation of their friendship, Bokuto needs someone to drag him down to reality sometimes. He sometimes get’s caught up in his negative thoughts so he needs someone as blunt as you to tell him to stop fretting and to think about all his amazing qualities. Finally, Sagittarius Rising natives very much help people to open up their perspective of the world, Bokuto is forever grateful for you introducing him to new things. Usually dates will consists of you too perhaps trying some exotic foods or some niche hobby together (like pottery). You have shown him the joy’s of the world for that he loves you very much.

------‐-------

Hope you like it lydia!!!

Carla

[evoedbd]

What Could Have Been

Summery:   Cali refuses to let Onyx suffer in silence, which leads to her discovering one of the greatest tragedies of Onyx's life. Warnings: Mentions of death.  Miscarriage.  Hinted Domestic Violence.   I wrote this after listening to the song “Color of Your Eyes” by Smash into Pieces. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zhz1pqv5NM4.. it’s going to be heavier, even with the comforting factors. ************************** There were many things in the world that Cali never wanted to see again. The sheer amount of blood that spurted from a sliced artery, coming in waves that matched time with a dying heart. The contrast of plasma against a doctor’s gloves. The way that sterile white blankets turned different shades of red and pink as blood coagulated. The harshness of a digital green line, flat and blaring across the monitor. The sight of her front wheel over the edge of the cliff, supported only by her quick thinking and feet hooked into the guard rail. The way her bike bent as it bounced down the rock face, frame crumpling in on itself as if made of hollow paper and tape instead of alloy. Her father’s face, although it haunted her every dream and fantasy of childhood. The crinkle in the corner of his eye when he tried not to laugh at a young Cali’s antics. The daughter he had abandoned without even the kindness of a goodbye. The daughter he had given a number jotted down on the back of a torn receipt, as if it could make up for shattering a young girls heart and soul.

Now something else had made that list of things which had struck Cali to the core. That would scar her for life. Unlike the other points, this was not life changing. It was not the end of a life, or the cultivation of agony refined into a single trigger. It was not the low percentage circumstance, or even something that would shape Cali’s life. No, it was mundane in the grand scheme of things.

Onyx Wren was such a small woman. Light and lithe, barely brushing an even five foot. It was so easy to forget how small she was when she flew; when she flipped and smiled, taunting death as flames chasing her across a tightrope. She moved as if the meaning of fear was forgotten; as if mortality was a foreign concept. Now, it was all too easy to see. Adrenaline and amazement no longer provided the illusion of a goddess, leaving the trembling, ashen frame crumpled in the corner. Pale calves curled around the pinks of Onyx’s skirt, heels pressed to her rump, knees resting together to one side. Sequins twinkled on Onyx’s crookedly hanging shirt. Arms which seemed capable of carrying the weight of the world trembled, whereas the hands of an artist cradled what appeared to be a single photograph close to a pure heart. Clouds of agony held residence in the oceanic green eyes which usually held the warmth of spring. The glistening of rhinestone piercings beneath Onyx’s eye rivalled the gleam of silently falling tears, each taking the pigments of yellow, blue and lavender Onyx used to decorate her eyes. Occasionally, the darkness of eyeliner won out, laying paved lines of washed out greys against snowy skin.

“Onyx?” Cali called, unable to handle the stabbing in her own chest. Onyx was always so strong, the most cheerful of the troupe. She was always the one ensuring everyone ate; the one handing out hugs; the joy and endless optimism even when things became dire. She was the sweetheart of Sin, the one everyone adored for her endless optimism.

“Oh, Cali. I didn’t see you there, Sweetheart.” Onyx chirped; her voice nearly as flawless as her showstopper smile that could light up a room, could unite warring fans, and soothe the greed of Vegas gamblers.  The smile of Envy, the Sweetheart of the Sin Troupe. The entertainer tilted her head, attempting to conceal her flaws behind her hair. Not even the curtain of sunlight, dipped in meadow green could distract Cali from Onyx’s eyes. Gleaming now, as bright as ever to any who didn’t know better. To those who could ignore the spiderweb fractures in the happiness projected.

“Is there something you need?”

“Onyx. Why didn’t you tell me you were sad?” Cali tried to broach the topic gently. Sad did not cover the moment of unguarded sorrow she had stumbled upon. No, what Cali had seen was beyond sorrow, or sadness. It was depression. Something so dark and shadowy that she wondered how Onyx had enough light to gift the world.  How had she kept the illusion of carefree partying sunshine alive for so long?  How had the mask not fallen?

“How did yo-”

“Pet names and smiles can’t hide it forever, Onyx. I care too much to ignore it.” Cali cut in, unwilling to allow Onyx any traction to deny her own emotions. Surprise danced across Onyx’s face, parting her delicate lips in way that exposed the clean edges of pristinely kept teeth.

“Oh.” Aside from that one little sound, Onyx gave no reaction. The moments stretched into uncomfortable silence, suspended on an invisible rope that tightened every second Cali didn’t approach.

Every step felt wrong. Tense. As if she were having to creep through an enchanted forest to capture a fairy on a moonless night. She found herself continuing to look beneath her washed out sneakers, half expecting to find a branch or bone in her path. Each step was quiet. No branches cracked, alerting the forest to her intrusion, nor did bones scatter and alert the reaper she sought to flee. No. The walk itself, for all the build-up in her mind, was quiet and swift. No eggshells. No earthquake. Chancing a glance down, Cali’s eyes fixed on the photograph within Onyx’s hand. Black, with a cone of grainy greys. Numbers in one corner. A date? Oh. There was the crack. It wasn’t the walk, but the destination. Cali didn’t care anymore. She tore the forest down, threw her bones beyond the Reaper to Death itself. Fuck it all. If anything in existence had an issue, Cali would gladly clobber them to death with a wrench. Nothing was stopping her closing the distance, dropping to her knees and throwing her arms around the startled woman in front of her.

“Fuck. Onyx, when? Why didn’t- how long? Wh-” Cali was painfully aware how awkwardly her words were coming out. Again, her instincts screamed FUCK IT. If moods had limbs, hers would be giving the double fingers to any god or devil within sight. She didn’t need medical training to know what Onyx was holding, or had been. Quick hands had come up to grasp Cali’s forearm, preventing the Chinese woman from crushing a delicate windpipe.

“It isn’t! It’s not... not anymore.”

... Oh. Fuck. That was worse than anything Cali could have anticipated. What could she even say to that? Med School had exposed Cali to so much. To joy as much as grief. She’d listened to doctors speak about delivering the news that a child had not made it, and at the time it had seemed so trivial. Yes, Cali had been able to identify it would cause a lot of pain, but she’d been blinded by her own woes, drowning in course work and too much caffeine to function.  She’d never been able to conceive the magnitude, nor the vertigo of crushing reality. If only she’d listened, maybe those with more experience could kickstart her mind on the right path. Perhaps they’d travelled the right path to get through this. But, then again, she had never heard of ANY of them addressing their own personal loss.

“Onyx...” If a name could ever have expressed the storm of emotions, the way Cali uttered that name would be it. There were no words created to express her tone, yet it was one every doctor was familiar with. That hovering moment before everything came crashing down.

“Was it-“

“It was Dorren’s.” For the first time Onyx sounded as broken as she had appeared. No force in existence could have prevented Cali wrapping her arms around Onyx’s lithe waist, forearms protecting her exposed stomach as the Asian pulled the designer’s back into her chest. Onyx was so thin, even with her layers of defined muscle, not to mention cold. Cold enough to make Cali flinch at first contact, even with both their layers of clothing separating them. She didn’t dare speak again, no matter how many soothing words and half thought sentences danced across her tongue. Instead, Cali allowed her body to convey what words could not. The tightness of her embrace, arms protecting where a child would have grown, if not for tragedy. It was hollow, an echo of a gesture, but it was Cali’s. It was everything she could give to potential which was never given the chance to be realised.

“It was the same year he died. I was so scared. I mean, I was barely out of school, my career was ruined and... I was happy too. It was an accident, but they were ours. I loved them so much, even before I found out. But Dorren... he didn’t take it well.” Onyx eventually spoke.

“-Oh, I bet he didn’t.-” Cali silently raged. She had to bite down on her tongue to hold the words back. Everything she had heard and seen already suggested what kind of reaction Onyx’s dead lover would have had to a baby, and not a single one was the support and love Onyx deserved. Cali bit down on her tongue so hard she drew blood, yet only a small huff of pain escaped her. Onyx, distracted, seemed to take that as a sound of sympathy as she continued.

“He was so angry. Apparently, assassins can’t have children, so he thought I’d slept with someone else. Once we figured out because I wasn’t an assassin it was possible, he believed I hadn’t cheated. He was still distant for a while, then he upped my training. But that was ok, he loved me. He just wanted to make sure the baby would be safe.” Onyx continued, shrinking back into Cali’s chest a little. The Asian woman tightened her grip, grounding herself against every instinct. Her chest blazed, fuelled by her immediate suspicions.

“-Sure he fucking did. Because more blows to the body is exactly what a pregnant woman needs... prick!-” if her thoughts could have had teeth, Cali’s would have been bared. How... just how? Onyx was the most loyal sweetheart Cali had ever met in her life. To think that Onyx would cheat, that was like thinking every teacup would come to life and sing across the world. Actually, the teacup option was far more realistic.

“We were all exhausted. Yvette was close to finding the demon who hurt her. Wrath was seeing somebody. We all had our training upped. I’m not surprised nobody noticed-“

“The Troupe didn’t know!?” Cali couldn’t help but exclaim, her shout earning a flinch from Onyx. Almost immediately, Cali’s hand rubbed apologetically along Onyx’s side. It was unconscious, an effort to settle and sooth as Cali regained control of herself. She knew better than to react so volatile, but something about this felt so hideously wrong. She couldn’t help but picture Onyx. Young, pregnant, distanced from everyone as she was pushed to the brink by the man she was in love with. Not JUST the man she loved, but the father of her child. The man who was not only several years older, but magically chosen to lead the Sin Troupe. How? How could that man have thought any part of his behaviour was appropriate, let alone beneficial? How could anybody do something so punishing? It was so easy to forget Onyx was only 23. Now, that age was a red alert siren in Cali’s mind. 23 now. Then, she’d been even younger. Maybe too young to even legally drink. Fuck. That struck too close to the heart. Cali’s arms tightened once again; cradling Onyx close.

“Dorren didn’t want to distract them until we were sure it was viable. He didn’t even come when I went for my eight week check up. Then, with everything... it was too much for me to keep up with. I should have told him, but I wanted to make him proud. We were sparring -“ Onyx’s words continued registering somewhere in the distance, yet Cali’s active mind felt as if it imploded. She was consumed by white hot rage, something not even demons had ever truly drawn out of her before. Dorren had KICKED Onyx? A full on round house kick when he KNEW Onyx was exhausted AND pregnant! Cali was going to be sick. It churned in her gut, a thick strew that was burning through her stomach lining. Or was it her blood itself burning? Surely that would explain why her entire body was in literal pain for the rapid rise in temperature. Couldn’t Onyx feel it? Why wasn’t Onyx reacting? Surely, there was magic causing this. What else could be so potent that Cali felt she was about to feint, yet that she could sprints a marathon at the same time?

“He was so upset. He even rushed me to the hospital, but with the internal bleeding-”

Did Onyx not realise what she was saying? INTERNAL BLEEDING? From a single training accident? How hard had Dorren kicked her? How had he not realised she was exhausted? The following realisation actively made bile rise into Cali’s mouth. Bile she had to swallow, even as more came up into her nose. He had to have realised. He had to have known Onyx couldn’t block such a powerful kick at her prime, not without the Envy Assassin powers flooding her veins. He’d have seen she was exhausted; known she couldn’t have blocked... and he had struck her anyways.

“We agreed to just not tell the others, keep acting how we always did and address it when we had time. That was the same month everything went wrong. Wrath’s partner. The demon. Vinca murdering Dorren, becoming Pride.” Onyx had continued to speak, oblivious to what Cali was experiencing. The words didn’t stop, though they froze Cali’s entire world. So, he’d been fine to continue sleeping with Onyx after he practically murdered their child? Oh. No. Absolutely not. Fuck that. Fuck its cow. Fuck... just fuck it! What other words could Cali ever think to sum up just how WRONG this was? Suddenly, Vinca didn’t seem so outrageously evil.  Had she known that Dorren had hurt her sister so badly, that he’d killed her niece or nephew?  If Vinca had known any of this, then her murder of Dorren would make perfect sense.  Heck, Cali would have been there cheering Vinca on, complete with the #TeamVinca t-shirts and pompoms.

“Then Ripley died, and I became Envy.” Onyx’s voice wavered. Cali couldn’t help but suck a breath in, hoping the burn of air would distract her from the crushing in her chest. Assassins couldn’t have children. By 23, Onyx had lost the chance of ever having biological children. The Wren line ended with her and Vinca. Cali would never get to walk through the door and see a mini Onyx chasing Ripley around. She’d never get to watch Onyx cuddling her child close, nor watch them panic on the first day of school. The world would never see another generation of smiles like the Wren twins. Never get to see Onyx captured in genetic history. Onyx had been given a singular chance at that joy, a chance her partner had deliberately, oh yes Cali had no doubt about that, torn from her with a vicious roundhouse kick.

“I mean, it’s probably for the best. I’d make a terrible mother.” Onyx tried to reason.

“-Lies!-” Cali’s mind snarled in return.  She remained silent.

“Without Dorren, I’d never be able to keep up with a baby. Could you imagine a baby exposed to all this demon crap? With me as a mother? They’d stand no chance.” Onyx continued. Cali had never felt she could become the embodiment of disagreement until Onyx said that. She’d seem Onyx with Avi. The pint-sized goddess was practically born to interact with children and rescue puppies. Onyx had a glow about her when she played with Avi, or when she teamed up with him to flash the puppy dog eyes at Cal. Grumpy as that man was, he couldn’t combat that level of adorable. In Cali’s eyes, Onyx already played the role of a mother, a protector. Someone who not only nurtured but taught. Sunshine to the flowers. How could Onyx ever doubt herself? Just how far had Dorren dragged her down?

“Onyx... when did you take time to deal with this?” Cali voiced, keeping herself as outwardly calm as possible. Her rage was entirely justified, and it was going to come out in a tsunami the moment she was away from Onyx. Right now, though? Now, Onyx held more importance to her than her own anger.

“There wasn’t any time. Not wit-”

“Fuck that! Fuck it in all the wrong ways. Onyx, you lost six people in close succession! Nobody is expected to be fine after that, let alone continue saving the goddamn world! You deserve to have time to mourn. You need it. Forget everything else. If anyone says anything, they can fight me!” Cali declared, shaking her head to punctuate her denial.

“There she is. Our spunky bike mechanic.” Onyx laughed weakly. It was such a far cry from her usual birdsong laughter.

“I have killed a demon with a bike, a B-I-K-E, Onyx! I’m also a partially trained surgeon, close enough to a doctor.” Cali reminded Onyx in a faux enraged tone. Her legs came to wrap around Onyx’s waist, holding the small assassin down. If Cali’s body could have spoken, nobody could have doubted the message it was sending. Onyx, who time and time again gave so much of herself to protect others. Now, Cali silently begged for Onyx to take. Even if it was just once, she needed Onyx to take everything without putting others first. From the breath in her lungs to the warmth of her blood, every ounce of strength she had left in her own weary body. Most importantly, time. Precious time. Something not a single assassin seemed to have, or to value when applied to themselves. It was always full on intensity, chasing every threat down without ever pausing to consider themselves.

“And doctor’s orders are that you take time. Treatments include days of cuddles with friends, admitting you’re sad and crying if you need to. Exercise... carrying my fine ass around if you disagree with me!”

“I can flip a man almost double my body weight, Cali.” Onyx pointed out, allowing the photograph to flutter to the ground as her hands wrapped under Cali’s thighs. The chill of cold hands and the bite of bedazzled nails earned a loud, indignant squeal from Cali, yet the drop out surgeon fought to keep her composure.

“Fight me!” She boldly declared. When Onyx’s nails bit that little bit deeper, Cali’s brain caught up with her. She was practically challenging a superhero.

“Those aren’t doctor’s orders!” She yelped, barely restraining her laughter as Onyx found her feet.

“Fooled me, Sweetheart.” Onyx quipped, mask sliding into place. No, not quite a mask. Her tone wasn’t perfect, nor did she adopt the high energy she always presented the world. She was warm, but far from her usual definition of sunshine. Happier, but still burdened.

“Princess, get your ass to bed and let me snuggle! I will call Ripley!” Cali threatened, clinging to Onyx like a young Koala to its mother. The short assassin paused, looking over her shoulder with an expression of absolute betrayal.

“You wouldn’t...”

“I will call the literal bear! Don’t test me. I have an Asian mother! I am the mistress of guilting people into obedience and beating them with household objects!”

“Racist! Your mother is a sweetheart!”

“That’s what she wants you to believe!”

[magmahurricane]

A decade of friends - in no order, here’s to all the amazing people in my life old and new!

@shinkumancer : I remember following your work waaay back in the Archie Comic days. I had always been too shy to approach you, but I loved your work. I still remember so much of your Egg Boss art and it’s insane how far you’ve come. You’re still one of the sweetest, kindest people I know and I always enjoy the little drawpile sessions we have! 

@zlatis-art : We haven’t been friends for very long - it’s roughly been a year, now, but it feels like we’ve been friends longer. Something just... clicked when we met, and god I came on strong looking back! I don’t regret it tho - taking the plunge and letting you into my life was such a good call. You’re super patient and you strive so hard to treat everyone fairly and give people so much love. You’ve come such a long way with both your OCs and your art, and our calls are always so much fun! 

@sege-h : Would you believe I actually don’t remember exactly how we met...? I know it had something to do with the Sonic RPC iirc. But you’ve always been such a wonderful source of optimism and joy, and I love our talks! You’ve always been so supportive of me and I don’t know how to thank you for it?? I need to draw Storm and Carey doing more shenannigans when I get better!

@rainingautumn : I also don’t recall how, other than vague recollections of the Sonic RPC I think. I feel like I learned so much from you - you’ve provided me with different perspectives, which really helped me open my eyes to a lot of things. You’ve always been such a warm, positive presence while still standing firm and speaking up for yourself, which is so hard to do. I love your little messages, even if I don’t always know how to respond to them!

@boy-of-silence : You’re legit one of my oldest friends around and looking back on where we started it’s honestly kind of insane? We met on dA and we were practically babies like??? It’s insane, I remember so much and it all blurs together like mad, but we’ve always just sorta stuck by each other and I’m always so happy to see you on my dash. You got me into Homestuck, and you made me curious about Bioshock (I still need to finish Infinite), and I still remember the little art collabs we used to do...! I got nothing but good memories!

@kismeti : We don’t talk much, but I’m hoping to change that soon! I love your work, and you’ve put so much into your OCs. Seeing you tweet about petsites makes me think about Neopets and I age 500 years every time,, You honestly seem so sweet and kind and I can’t wait to see what more you’re gonna share with us in the new year!

@fini-mun : I don’t talk with you as much as I should (purely because I’m shy as all get out) but you’ve honestly been such an inspiration to me. You’re so incredibly kind and patient -- I still have that doodle you sent me while I had been down in the dumps. I remember I found you so intimidating when I first met you on dA, when I first tried to commission you -- and watching you grow as an artist and getting to know you has been so great! You don’t know how much I smiled that night when I expressed how I knew nothing about BatIM and you up and streamed the entire game live. I know we were both excited to play FO76 together and that was a let down for like, the entire fandom. But we should definately hang sometime and do stuff! Give your ratties my love!!

@oddpastrys : JAAADE,,, I vaguely remember meeting you in one of Kaden’s streams,, and then in Joan’s weird campaign. You’ve always been such a fun, energetic person and you always bring the best jokes. Deadass, watching RWBY with you both ruined it and enhanced it. You’re so much fun to be around and you always work so hard to cheer everyone up and please everyone, and we don’t say thank you often enough - I don’t thank you often enough. You’re so sweet and fun to be around and I’m 100% not sorry about all the horrible, horrible things I’ve made you see. 

@calderscauldron : Kaden!!! You’re another one of my oldest friends, and it’ll never be wild to me how insanely lucky it was that I happened to move to the same state as you. I remember when we were dumb kids on dA, and how you used to joke about kidnapping me -- and how my first thought when getting to Texas was “I should see where this guy lives and meet up!” sjkfdjkfs It’s been a helluva ride and I don’t regret it. We had our bumps and fallouts but we’ve always worked through it all -- and your art has come such a long way. You’re always so sweet and so much fun to be around.  You deserve so many nice things and I can’t thank you enough for sticking by my dumb ass for so long!

@haunted-pixel : Yet another decade-old friendship! Bronwyn it’s been such a fucking wild ride. I still remember your old OCs from back in the day; I remember our gryphon friend group, and our lizard group and screaming about digimon, I remember getting really into Kimba/Jungle Emperor Leo cos of you and your OCs, I remember all the drawings of Z and Miki. I remember Nuki and the others. It’s been such a long time and so much has changed around us both. We don’t talk as much anymore but I’m always thrilled when we do hit eachother up on twitter!! I seriously gotta draw more Carey x Zanity sometime. You’ve also just, improved so much as an artist and branched out so much?? Your plushies and your fursuits are absolutely amazing and I can’t believe how far you’ve come! I also still have the sketches you and your sister did for me when I was technically homeless and stuck in the hospital and I’ll always treasure them - and the Nack you made for me is still sitting cozy on my shelf, along with the yeen and Sonic you sent!

@nuttyrabbit : My absolute best friend!!! And probably most unexpected friend! I remember seeing your posts in the Archie Sonic tag way back when, and how my asshole ex used to rant about how she hated you for w/e reason. I used to be so intimidated by you because you told it how it is, and I respected your opinion so I was always lowkey afraid you thought I was stupid and hated my ideas/OCs. But even before we got close, you stuck your neck out for me when things got bad between my ex and me. And in 2018, we finally just started to click with our OC stuff.  Lady Luck became a huge comfort dynamic for the both of us. You always argue against it but I still say you’re one of the kindest people I know. You always try to look out for me and find ways to lend a hand when things get tough, you’re always trying to help me when I’m down and you go out of your way to cheer me up and I can’t thank you enough. Meeting you at RTX this year was incredible.  Thank you so much for being you. <3 

@finitevus : We don’t talk much but I can’t not add you!!! You’ve been so kind and supportive to me, and artistically you’ve always been such a big inspiration. I love your character designs and your writing is so so good, and you always strive to be so positive and warm to others and I promise I’m not ignoring you when you reach out; I’m just very shy and dumb ankjdjkfs I need to,,, say hello on discord sometime. And draw you many things!

@lightdax : You’re always a whole lot of fun and I refuse to apologize for your eyes with half the shit you’ve been exposed to by proxy. You’ve always been really sweet and you’ve really been pushing to improve this past year and it shows! Take time off your mayoral duties for the town of Cuckoldia and put up your OC bios tho! @nvllspace : I,, gotta tag ur RP blog cos IDK ur personal but JACKKIIEE. You’re so sweet and fun and your art is always such a treat. You came through with helping me realize just how toxic a certain person I needed to cut out of my life was, and you’ve always been so kind and supportive. You’re always a blast in our calls and I love your AUs so much! Also you need to stop having so many gorgeous characters cos holy shit,,,

@frecklefacefromouterspace : Nixe!  You’re usually busy these days but whenever we do catch you it’s always fun. If it wasn’t for your old server, the current server wouldn’t have even existed and you brought us all together! You’re always so sweet and bubbly and you have one of the cutest, most distinct styles I know.

And to all my other mutuals - thank you all so much for sticking by me!  I’m having difficulty typing now so I’m sorry I couldn’t get to everyone but sincerely: thank you, all of you, for making these past years such an amazing ride. I’ve learned so much from each of you and I can’t wait to see what’s in store for 2020!

[arcanacouncilrp]

    “ You have a significant sense of deserved confidence that you     shine onto those around you. ”

Upright: Joy, Success, Celebration Reversed: Depression, Inwardness, Negativity Astrology: Sun ☉ Element: Fire 🜂 Power: Light Manipulation

Faceclaim Suggestions: Arden Cho, Harry Shum, Jr., Lucy Boynton, Keith Powers Name: UTP Gender: UTP  Age Range: 27-32 Years with Council: 6 Council Role: Combat Trainer

FIRST - Lying on their back in a field, The Sun basked in midday warmth. Sunflowers towered around them and cast them in dappled golden light. This hidden spot was the perfect place to stretch out and snatch a few mellow moments in otherwise wild days. They ought to have been doing their duty—the Council’s responsibilities never ceased—but when has a teen ever done what they are told? Responsibility dragged them down into the darker parts of their own mind, and that was simply untenable. They spent more time planting seeds of celebration all over the globe and then racing through, vibrant banner aloft, as they bloomed into raucous ecstasy. The purity of their heart blazed too proudly for simpler tasks. People from all corners of the world turned toward their light to capture those moments of delight. It was the very reason The Ancients trusted them with their role; they helped people find joy, lifted them out of gloom by reminding them of the light. Someday, when they had a shot, they were going to brighten the whole world.

FROM THE WORLD’S JOURNAL - Few were ever really aware of The Sun’s darker sides before The Ambitious Three’s uprising, myself included. They were hard to pin down at all, but catching them in a moment without celebration? Nearly impossible. Or it was, until the others began to turn. Then the light began to fade. They were practically still a child—young enough to be manipulated, yet old enough to understand the consequences of what they did. I’ve tried to shelter each iteration since as much as I can. It has proven harder than I anticipated; they can be quite difficult to track down, despite how people flock to them like a cheerful shepherd. It takes work to nurture that kind of light in someone, and not every incarnation has been lucky enough to receive that kind of attention. This one is brighter than most, though they aren’t always forthright with what’s really on their mind. I’m just glad I found them when I did. The Council will help, I think—they always do better when they have a team to count on. I hope I can keep their darkness away better than I have with what’s coming for us all…

NOW - You were born ready to run, swim, fly, anything that gets your heart racing. You were a kid with ceaseless energy who grew into a person with boundless enthusiasm. You’re not blinded by your own light, though. You know people don’t exactly think of you as the brightest bulb in the box, so to speak. It’s okay. Maybe you aren’t by their definition, but you have goals beyond championships and trophies. What’s wrong with those in the first place? They are a testament to everything you can do if you set your mind to it. They’re proof of how effectively you used countless hours of training to keep your mind out of its slumps. Now… Now you don’t have that option so much, but you have the Council and your role and the secret little ideas you’ve been watering like private buds in tiny pots. They stave off the dark thoughts, for the most part. Maybe people think you’re too optimistic about taking on the world, and maybe they’re right, but you can’t let that drag you down. You are going to help people. You are going to take off sprinting to lead the world to bigger and better things, a victory flag waving behind you. Just you wait.

Connections

STRENGTH - When you first arrived all you saw was dusty books, antiques, and old furniture; you were certain you’d die of boredom. But it took no time at all to find another you in the mix. You read them the moment they introduced themselves, and from that moment on, you had someone to push boundaries with. Everyone else around this place is all about mental capacity and the woes of magic use, but the two of you enjoy more tangible thrills. You tell them often how grateful you are that they’re around, but other than that, the two of you don’t talk much. You prefer to explore your friendship through feats and excursions, because sometimes that’s just as meaningful.

TEMPERANCE - You have all this boundless energy and they are so, so steady in contrast, and yet, being around them is soothing. Even when their eyes are glued to a screen or it seems like they’re busy, they listen. You noticed it because they remember things you say that even your closest friends don’t always pick up. Lots of people care about you, sure, but few are interested in what you have to say. Them, though? It’s like they can see right into you and they decided they want to see more. It’s kind of thrilling, like the exhilaration of a sprint. You think they’re so cool, like how they learn so many things just by blending in when people don’t think they’re listening. You’ve never known anyone like them.

THE STAR & THE MOON - You all entered the madness of this magical world back to back to back, because fate knew you need each other. There’s a reason you’re all sky folk, right? You were first, and going stir crazy when The Star arrived. They didn’t match your exuberance, at least, not in a conventional way but you clicked with them immediately. The enthusiasm in their cynicism countered your blind optimism perfectly. When The Moon came, your trio was balanced at last. Someone needed to be the voice of logic in your light-hearted schemes. You’d be lost without them, now. It’s nearly impossible to imagine your life before they were in it. While they both roll their eyes at you and tell you all too frequently to calm down or to look before you leap, they do it with smiles on their faces, and usually following you right into what they told you to stop doing.

[barborawrites97]

Self love

There are more and more people fighting with self love. In the present world it is hard to believe in yourself because others are envious towards you so they constantly try to put you down.

Lack of self confidence could be considered as a mental illness, most common among teenagers, especially women. For some people it is just a temporal state of mind but for others it can develop to a sort of depression. That is the reason why we should not be ashamed to talk about it. I decided to write a story about my own fight with self hatred.

I suffered from acne and when I was a child I used to be called fat. However, it did not do any big damage to my confidence, I was still a kid. The real issue, as for most teenager, started about at the age of 12. All those things and insults were returning to me. In my memory or even brand new ones. I kept staring at myself in the mirror, thinking how fat and ugly I am. I was crying every day. I had a lot of friends but no one was that close to me to share my insecurities.

Boys did not show any interest in me that time so I was not searching for a relationship. However, one day I was chatting with one guy on Facebook and he made me feel very special. And it was something new for me. It felt so good so I fell for it. I got into a relationship. A long-distance relationship. It was perfect for me, even though I never thought it would last long. I am a very photogenic person and as we were both young, we would not see each other for years. He made me feel a little bit better because he was a polite and sweet gentleman. I felt wanted. Although I was aware that I look better on photos than in reality, it was a satisfying feeling. But the hatred towards my appearance did not go away. I was looking into the mirror from distance and then closely again to see how I would look from a perspective of somebody kissing me. It does sound stupid and it is but I still did that every day. I’ve been going running for some time or working out a bit, eating healthy but it did not help my confidence. There was only one person, who made me love and accept myself the way I am.

The guy, who I started dating 4 years ago, was my saviour. I shared more and more with him. He saw me on videos, video calls, random photos and I was always the most and only beautiful girl for him. And from the love he gave me I built the love for myself. He is the most important part of my life because he taught me this. The most valuable thing.

I look at myself now and I look at photos from the past. I used to be slim. I had an amazing figure. Yet, I never found myself attractive. I have gained some weight during those years. I do call myself fat sometimes but I know I am happy with my curvy figure. I have better complexion now and all it took was to wait a few years.

I wanted to give you hope. To anyone who is reading it right now - YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. No matter what others say. One day you will meet a person who will see you flawlessly. They will give you the love you deserve and bring endless happiness to your life.

And for you, my love. For the person who helped me overcome my insecurities: I could not have done it without you. Although you are far away, there is no stronger bond than the one we have. You fill me with joy by your love, even though you can’t be physically here for me. There has never been a time when you have not been there for me mentally. No matter what happens, you will always be my true love and my soul mate. You are the source of all happiness and optimism in my life. I look at myself and see a beautiful woman that you have created. Thank you for that.

And for you who took a bit of their time to read this: I wish you all to find someone like I have found. Do not worry. There is somebody waiting for you. Every time you look into the mirror, tell yourself how beautiful you are. How special you can be just if you believe in it. Thank you for reading it and I hope that I have made you smile because you are PERFECT. And there will be a person to see your perfection. One day.

[apromisetoyou]

Alone

Being consumed by a fear of the unknown once more because of my disappointment and anger amplifies the feeling of myself feeling alone. Having to bear the responsibility of an opportunity lost and the regret of having my hope bubble burst made me wonder why I am so unlucky, and why I didn't choose to leave earlier in spite of everything. I felt abandoned by someone whom I had tried looking up to, and this only served to impel me to validate all the negatives thoughts I have about her.

Demonising her, and the desire to make her pay, such thoughts started appearing and I almost feel justified for wanting to choose 'payback' as a way to end my relationship. I was prepared to trust her, to believe that she was also prepared to give me opportunities, but I see that up till the end, I would never be an employee she would think about taming. Ruthless impartiality - I can remain as just an intern, given that there will be others who can fill up the slots.

Yet, the underlying problem has always been this - I am aware that I could never fully bring myself to trust her and she could never fully trust me as well. I could trust her as my boss, but not as who she is in her totality. She could trust insofar in my role as an intern, but probably not as a full-time employee in the future. Perhaps it is the case that we did not fully trust ourselves enough to be able to deal with our ability and readiness to handle differences, just like my relationship with Gwen. We were not sufficiently motivated to take the risk that we can continue supporting each other.

Does this show that I am always a step too late to improve? I never let go of my concern for Gwen even after breaking up, until I decided to prioritise myself over her. I knew that I love her but I was not prepared to chase her back because I wanted her to stay true to herself and not confuse her feelings any further. I sensed her inability to embrace me as someone she could wholeheartedly support and I knew it would not be right for both of us to continue with a unbalanced tilted relationship, where my love for her would be stifling and overwhelming. Above all, I wanted her to be brave and not hurt anymore so that she didn't have to cry again. As I tried my best to move on, I was able to rationalise that she and I were not meant to be because we were both insecure and not ready to deal with the demands of our relationship. We ended up hurting each other unintentionally with our innocence, values and beliefs. I was resentful for not feeling validated by her and she was upset that I could not change enough for her and her parents. We saw our vulnerabilities as a mistake but the truth is, a relationship stays only because there are moments and pockets of vulnerabilities that we reveal to one another. Love and pain are 2 sides of a coin, and connecting them together is growth and support through healing. Sometimes, separation is necessary.

Still, I will not give up on our bonds, no matter how pathetic it may seem. Because she taught me love and I came to make sense of love in my own way thereafter, even if flawed and incomplete.

Back to a professional setting, my traineeship experience showed me and reminded me again that not everyone in a leadership position will turn out to be a good leader to all. Inevitably, there will be leaders who cannot meet the needs of some subordinates so a good leader will always be mindful to assign mentors who can step in to meet those needs. I could never find that mentor here, despite giving my best. Perhaps I didn't ask enough, perhaps I wasn't confident to do more, perhaps I was just lazy. But through it all, I was only told that everyone is just too busy and what I saw only confirmed what I was told. So I recalibrated my pace and I soon found my passion being slowly extinguished. While I don't think that I can arrive at the state where I can fully trust myself to handle differences, I think I have come to trust the process of journeying by myself and to trust in my ability to withstand stress from societal and my self-expectations with patience and kindness. I can trust in myself to handle criticism and be more independent at work. I appreciate the importance of caring and relying on my team of colleagues but I can still do more to show initiative in order to be more independent in my own learning - such as by asking a question everyday and consolidating my knowledge through applied practice.

Therefore, my 'payback' is in becoming a leader that anyone deserves, no matter who they are. I will never treat anyone as a means to an end nor will I see what I am doing as only a means to an end. Guided by the right intention and experience, my actions are an end in themselves (becoming; changing; connecting) because they embody my values, beliefs and principles to be who I want to become. Instead of ruthless impartiality, I'll choose ruthless optimism and hope to enact and practise practical idealism even as I see the larger picture. I will never want to 'disable' anyone through the lack of sincere open tough communication - feelings and thoughts. To do so, I will always put aside time for communications that would allow me to process and integrate my perceptions, knowledge and feelings of a person together, no matter our status.

So where do I go from now? Having processed my thoughts, I think I can finally mention her name V. It is valid that I felt anger and disappointment with her due to my belief that she has let me down but I do not want to always feel let down by her. What I perceive to be a personal injustice should not distract me from my intention to focus on cultivating my own inner disposition to embody the values I cherish. V is a mother with 2 children and it is enough knowing that she will love them and will do her best to make PRL an inclusive library with the support of both the current and new members. I can accept with peace my decision to take the gamble because it has helped me to confront my own evils with support from my friends, who once again reminded me that the feeling of being alone does not have to cause permanent suffering or hurt. It will help me to see myself clearly, warts and all and choose from a position of vulnerability to understand that someone out there can empathise with my perspective, and this is enough for me to construct a new narrative of hope and acceptance with what is. I have to continue strengthening, disciplining and regulating myself so that I can continue to pass on the shared hope of connecting with others. My experience is unique and not unique at the same time, just like how I am a part and apart at the same time.

I do not wish to cause harm and hurt to others by projecting my own experience of suffering and pain onto them and neither do I need to start a personal vendetta just to seek satisfaction. My loved ones are here to ground me and I am fine just being alive and 'living hard' with them. 别辜负自己也别辜负生命因为有一天你打自内心所发出的光和热会带给你周边的人继续活下去及改变的力量。���记住今天你选择了善良宽待自己，也从此更相信爱并且接受这个世界的好与坏。因为我有好也有坏，我必须继续理解，继续沟通，继续相信自己，相信希望-成长的变化会带出真善美的可能性。

Besides following up on my handover, I think I can take whatever remaining time to consolidate my learning before applying them to Bilberries Blue. Hereon, I want to seek out my personal atelier - empathetic communication and recover my joy in living, no matter how long or challenging it may be. Right now, it is better to draw clearly the line between NLB and me. I do not think it is an organisation that I can find myself investing in or belonging to but this does not mean I cannot learn from the people there and what they are doing/thinking of. Innovation is neutral and no one is any less deserving to change this world through innovation and creativity, not withstanding one's intention/motivations.

There are colleagues whose professional and personal identities I respect, but V's role as a manager in NLB is one which I cannot come to respect. The only professional takeaway I have is the recognition of office politics and trade-off - mind games to put it bluntly. Still, I respect her competency and her efficiency and I will acknowledge her choices and ruthless impartiality with grace. Slowly, I may come to lose my disappointment and anger with her as I continue to trust myself more. I see that I only have to forgive myself for demonising her and not her because unlike my relationship with Gwen, I did not treasure/trust her enough to expect anything from her as a manager. My expectations came about because of my friends' experiences and the social knowledge of what a traineeship would deliver. The tension with V only came in because I felt that she ought to do something about my learning, but I also recognise that she is not obliged to because she does not owe me anything from this traineeship. It is part of my unconscious bias (due to my lived experiences) to project any misforgivings I have to a person in power but thanks to sociology, I remember now that I can direct my energy and feelings to the larger structural systems in the civil service which have shaped our interaction in order to avoid turning this into a static situation that is personal. I choose to end our relationship as RO and employee, rather than mentor and student.

As V rightly puts it, a relationship should be helpful to each other. I am not looking at this as a win-win i.e. extrinsic motivation but as an intrinsic motivation to develop my character according to my values. I understand that her personal accountability towards me will inevitably be shaped by her professional responsibilities to the team, NLB and her career aspirations in the civil service. Care is a choice that no one can institute. Even for myself, I need to acquire and commit to the discipline to care for myself and others - hence my personal atelier: empathetic communication.

In all, V did not try to sabotage my learning and she has helped me to acquire knowledge in her own utilitarianistic/functional way. Most importantly, she listened and shared about her personal self, which is what I valued above all, as well as her honesty with the team. Not her recommendations, nor her testimony. I hope she continues to stay honest, albeit not strategically but authentically. So that she will become a better leader for PRL and the incoming new staff as well as the PwDs she will interact with in future.

And this is what I will do with any lingering expectation/feelings for Gwen too. We may not care for each other as friends now but I'll trust the process of self-discovery, seek out and commit to my atelier while practising compassionate mindfulness until one day, I know I can fully trust myself to acknowledge Gwen with purity of intentions and the joy of wishing her well, as long as I live. Until then, I will continue to struggle and face more pain/hurt but I will know how to respond better and stick to the values that I wish to embody.

My writings and reflections saved me. My friends saved me. My family and the unfairness in this world motivates/drives me. I may feel alone but I know where not to go to. No one is truly alone, both physically and mentally, when he/she/they understand that we are all a part of this world shaped by the circumstances not of their doing, much as we feel apart sometimes. Not all of us may become master of our own fates but we can certainly take hold of our agency and keep on trying to negotiate with the circumstances while being attuned to and regulating our emotions agilely. Just like love and pain, freedom and structural forces will always come together as flip sides of the same coin. That is the journey of life and it is also where meanings are co-constructed through diversity and inclusion.

This is my praxis and my way of healing.

I love you Hong Kai, aged 26 years old. To the future me, I hope when you read this, you see how much you have struggled with disappointment and how much you have grown by choosing love and hope because of the pain you went through. You will look back and remind yourself - you are enough because you have made it all the way here without falling into despair, regardless of the lost opportunities, failed relationships, and guilty self-indulgent choices. You are still tender and also naive in your idealism, though mindful of the practicalities. If all else seems lost/bleak, please always choose kindness and ruthless optimism for yourself and this world because I know you value the good in humans and you are strong enough to accept the suffering and pain that we cause to one another, be it intentionally or unintentionally. In short, never give up on the values you want to embody nor on living in the many worlds you inhabit. By choosing to live with kindness and gratitude, you already belong to a group - inclusive humanity. Your innocence will materialise in a different form each time you fail, confront and learn to become wiser and kinder.

I hope and trust you will continue to go on many adventures of your own making while striving for balance, groundedness and peace bravely, freely, simply, kindly, contentedly, sincerely and justly. Happiness will follow in many different ways (: <3 Wishing the same for every living being in this world because we are connected by our experiences.

[slusheeduck]

Hope you wanted some Ernesto headcanons

These are extensive because I can’t write a whole fic right now because I’m STILL AGONIZING OVER THE OTHER ONE (and also I still have sick-brain, so let’s see if this stays coherent.) (Also worth mentioning: this is all in context of my fic, so yanno, YMMV)

Ernesto was a very careful child who dreamed about being like the heroes he would read/hear about but was always too scared to actually DO the things he wanted to. 

Sees his chance to be the hero with Héctor--he may only be seven years old, but he’s an easy target for just about anyone, what with being so small and the whole of Santa Cecilia knowing (by way of a very angry tía) how his papá was a worthless travelling musician who left his poor, now-departed mamá to have their child alone. So when he catches a group of kids jeering at him, he starts to step in. But then they start jeering at him, and he crumbles under the pressure. That’s when Héctor surprises him by jumping in and yelling back at them. (”Doesn’t that bother you? When they say mean things right to your face?” Ernesto asks afterward, to which Héctor just shrugs and gives a big, gappy-toothed grin as he replies, “They’re the ones actually looking for me. I think that makes me pretty popular.”)

Even though his attempt to “save” Héctor didn’t work out, Ernesto still decides it’s his duty to take care of the younger boy. Héctor is over the moon that someone as old as Ernesto wants to hang out with him, and they’re practically attached at the hip from that point on. They compliment each other perfectly: Ernesto is the one who has grand ideas for adventures, and Héctor’s the one crazy enough to actually go on them. This gets them into a lot of trouble--they’ve almost died at least three times by the time Héctor’s 12--but the more time Ernesto spends with the other boy, the more confident he becomes. 

Until they get it in their head to be musicians.

Ernesto’s the one to suggest it when he’s thirteen and Héctor’s nine. His mother gives him a beautiful guitar for his birthday, and he’s lousy at playing it. Héctor, on the other hand, can figure out the songs they hear in the plaza without any music. They both learn how to read and write music from the mariachis that come through; Ernesto practices and practices and practices--he keeps sheets and sheets of music with him, learning and relearning them over and over until he memorizes them--but Héctor can make up a tune at literally any moment. (It’s not fair, Ernesto thinks to himself more than once. He’s still a kid, he never practices, but he’s so much better than me. Why can’t I be like that?) As much as he loves his hermanito (because what else could Héctor be after being inseparable for so long?), there’s a little seed of resentment that starts to grow in him.

Ernesto has the awkwardness of hitting puberty early, but he grows into himself fairly young. By the time he’s fifteen, girls are looking at him. He’s not interested, but musicians need to flirt. He starts perfecting his de la Cruz smile and finds that suddenly people like him quite a lot. His confidence goes through the roof.

When Ernesto’s sixteen, he begins an apprenticeship with his father in woodworking. He hates it, but there’s no way for him and Héctor to be discovered in Santa Cecilia. He grudgingly accepts his fate, still dreaming of fame but utterly discouraged. He and Héctor still play together and talk about what they’d do if they were famous, but he doesn’t have the same joy as his friend.

When Héctor’s fifteen, his tía finds the notebook with all his songs and wastes no time in throwing him out. (“So what happened?” Ernesto asks when Héctor climbs into his window.  “Oh, what I was expecting. ‘You’re just like your worthless father, I knew it’d come to this, to think my sister died for an ungrateful cabrón like you.’ It’s nothing she hasn’t said before, but this time I don’t have a bed. Can I stay with you for a couple days?”)  

Enough’s enough, Ernesto decides. They’re young, there’s still plenty of time for them to become the famous musicians they dreamed of being. It’s time for them to grab their future seize their moment. After a lot of fighting and being more or less disowned, he leaves the family business, and he and Héctor scrounge up enough money to buy the tiniest shack in Santa Cecilia.   (“You really think we can survive on our own?” Héctor asks the first night they spend in their Casita de la Música. “I can’t even cook rice.” “Of course we can.” Ernesto leans over to muss up Héctor’s hair exactly the way he hates. “Haven’t you heard everyone in town? ‘Ay, Dios, Ernesto y Héctor! There’s never been two more unstoppable boys!” “I think they say ‘insufferable,’ amigo.” “Well, either way, they’re not getting rid of us so easily.”)

The first year they live together is a dream. They’re hungry and their clothes are badly patched, but they’ve never been happier. Ernesto uses the little bit of woodworking he remembers to salvage a broken guitar. He gives it to Héctor, and from that point on, there’s music at all hours from the two of them, whether they’re in the plaza or in their shack. They start actually performing, playing off of each other and dancing with their guitars and flirting with the girls who are in the plaza. And they start getting noticed.

Things get a little sour for Ernesto, though, when Héctor turns sixteen. Overnight, it seems, he shoots up a whole foot, and it’s hard to be the big, protective figure when the little chamaco is now a solid two inches taller than him. 

Worse than that, though, is that--around the time of his growth spurt--Héctor becomes a romantic. While three months ago he’d been just as disinterested in the girls that flocked to them as Ernesto was, now he has a new “soulmate” every week. He tries to woo each one with a song; it’s not always successful, and more than once he gets into scuffles with the fathers, brothers, and suitors of this week’s object of affection. It’s an unnecessary distraction from their important work. (A few times, though, Ernesto can see that it works--even with his gangly limbs and still-cracking voice, Héctor is charming with his wide grins and beautiful playing, and he catches a few girls looking at him and quietly swooning to the songs written for them. In those cases, Ernesto has to take things into his own hands to keep Héctor from straying too far. With Sofia, a wink and smile from himself dashes away all thoughts of Héctor--If she’s really so fickle as that, she doesn’t deserve him anyhow.   With Carmen, he may have mentioned in passing that she had so many admirers, and did she ever see the way the herrero’s son looked at her? And then ah! Qué pena! The herrero’s son proposed to her not long after, effectively pulling her out of Héctor’s range.   Luciana’s a little harder. She actively flirts back with Héctor, giggling and coyly glancing at him from behind her fan. He catches the two of them talking a few times, both mooning over the other one. At home, Héctor dreamily talks about running away with her, and that’s when Ernesto decides that things need to come to an end.  Word travels fast in Santa Cecilia, and somehow it gets out that Luciana Sanchez was planning to elope with that Rivera boy. So during their daily performance, Señor Sanchez personally comes out to the plaza and gives   Héctor a black eye before announcing that his daughter would NEVER marry some musician’s bastard son. Luciana, whether due to pressure from her family or her own feelings, is horrified that Héctor would think that she’d elope with him. She leaves soon after to Oaxaca, apparently to marry some wealthy farmer.)  While Ernesto hated to see his hermanito wounded--emotionally and physically--it quelled Héctor’s passions. Now he could focus on the music and, more importantly, not leave. At times, Ernesto is painfully aware that he’s being selfish. But his career depends on Héctor. Sure, he can sing, and he can play the classic songs he’d been practicing since he was a boy, but Héctor makes the most beautiful new songs. Those songs are what make people listen to them. Without that, he has no chance at becoming a star. But it’s more than that. Héctor, he knows, is a gift--performing with him is one of the most joyous things imaginable, and his never-ending optimism keeps Ernesto focused on their future. He should want to share that with other people, but he doesn’t. It’s always been Ernesto y Héctor. He rarely says it, but he adores him. The very idea of losing him is terrifying; after so long together, he’d be tossed into some dark unknown if Héctor wasn’t at his side. (”I’d move heaven and earth for you, you know,” he says one night after too many drinks at the cantina they’d played at. Héctor snorts as he slumps against his shoulder, shaggy hair tickling Ernesto’s cheek. “I know you’re the strong one, but let’s not push it, amigo,” he says, voice frustratingly light compared to how serious Ernesto is. “I mean it.” It’s the only way he can think of to convey how he feels for the boy--the man, now--beside him. He rests a hand on Héctor’s head, for once not mussing his hair. He stays put for a moment, then asks quietly, “Wouldn’t it be great if it were just the two of us forever? Just Ernesto y Héctor and no one else.” “Mm. It’d get lonely, hermano. Neither of us wants that,” Héctor mumbles, pressing his face against Ernesto’s shoulder before going limp and breathing softly. He never could hold his alcohol. He’s wrong, but there’s no way for Ernesto to tell him that. So he doesn’t.)  

He thinks Imelda is a safe focus for Héctor. He’s still irritated that his amigo can’t focus on their careers, especially when things are finally picking up for them. But Imelda clearly doesn’t want anything to do with him; he’d get discouraged soon enough, and then it’d be off to a life of fame and fortune, and Héctor could flirt with any girl he liked--they’d be too busy for him to spend too long with any of them, but he’d still be romantic enough to write those love songs that the crowds loved so much.

He panics when Héctor shows him the ring, that’s why he calls Imelda a cabrona. He panics even more when Héctor starts to fight him--he’s not a fighter, he never has been, and he’s terrified of getting hurt. But more than that, he’s hurt that Héctor--Héctor, who’d been by his side for over half their lives now--would turn on him like this for some woman.  (He’s not sure if punching Héctor’s mouth was an accident or not, but he’s sick when he realizes he’s ruined Héctor’s wonderful smile, and sicker still when he finds himself thinking, Now she won’t love him anymore. He has to stay.)

Eventually, it’s clear that it’s gone from Ernesto y Héctor to Imelda y Héctor. Ernesto wants to cut things off, to save himself the anger and frustration of hearing about how wonderful Imelda is and how beautiful Coco is and she really ought to meet her Tío Ernesto. Héctor wants to give up on their dream--he doesn’t say it, but it’s still loud and clear. He makes beautiful songs he doesn’t want to share. He stays in and writes letters instead of schmoozing and making connections. He’s not at all the Héctor he’d been a year ago--that one is dead, as far as Ernesto’s concerned. Maybe that’s why he tries to steal the songbook. It’s self-sabotage, he knows--but they’ll fight and it’ll be easier for them both to close the book on their friendship. (That’s what he tells himself later, to make himself seem like the selfless hero. In the moment, he wants to learn the music to “Remember Me”. He’s a half-second from ripping the page out to memorize it when Héctor comes back into the room.)

He’s not entirely sure where the poisoning plan comes from. It wasn’t as spur of the moment as he told himself it was later. Maybe it was to take revenge on Héctor for leaving him for Imelda. Maybe it was to ensure that he was the one that ended things between them. Maybe it really was just to get that songbook. What he did know was that poison was the coward’s way out; there’d be no way for Héctor to fight back, and that’s how he wants it to be. An easy, painless way to end things between them. There really wasn’t an alternative; he couldn’t seize his moment if Héctor kept getting swayed by family, and he couldn’t become the star he wanted to be if he didn’t have Héctor’s music. There wouldn’t be any fighting, just his success. (It’s not as easy or painless as Ernesto thinks it’ll be. He imagined Héctor would look like he was sleeping; he’s not prepared for empty brown eyes and twisted gangly limbs. He tells himself later that he was cool and composed as he dug a shallow grave and threw Héctor in, because he was doing what had to be done to succeed. He ends up believing most of the lies he tells himself, but that one never sticks. On his worst nights, both in the Land of the Living and the Land of the Dead, he remembers with absolute clarity the way he mussed Héctor’s hair and hysterically made a few jokes as he dug the grave, as if Héctor were tricking him like he always had. But he wasn’t, not this time.)

Ernesto is never quite the same after that. Because now, there’s no “Ernesto y Héctor”. It’s just Ernesto de la Cruz, Mexico’s most famous musician. Because with Héctor, he could never truly seize his moment. With Héctor, he realized now, he was still that cowardly little boy who couldn’t even defend a seven-year-old. He was still the teenager who could never be as good as the little chamaco that hung around him. Now, he was free from all of that. So, no matter how he’d felt about Héctor before, there was just resentment now. He had been just another barrier to Ernesto’s quest for fame. Now Ernesto could be the hero he had always wanted to be. Now, he knew, he was better off with Héctor dead.  (Funnily enough, that lie never stuck, either.)

[darkmoonflower]

My Abridged Story

This is a fraction of my long and drawn out story. The memories that have molded and shaped who I am today. The hardships and the successes leading me further down a road of wholeness. I have never shared an in depth version of where I came from, and during these trying times I find it necessary to bring these aspects of my life to light. Maybe some of you can relate, maybe not. But I thank you for reading this anyway.

Born into a world of chaos between my mother in and out of jail and rehab, and my father in the same predicament, the women in my family did their best to make sure I had an okay life. When I was in the 1st grade, I moved in with my grandmother because my mom was in jail and my dad wasn’t stable to care for me and my little brother. I was half-black living in a primarily white neighborhood, and had to face the trials of racism within the school system. I grew up with insecurities about my curly hair and the color of my skin, but also a quiet rage began to boil inside of me. I had a bitter taste of injustice on my tongue by the age of 8.

Eventually, I moved in with my mother again when she was somewhat better. Her, my brother and I shared a small apartment tucked away in the ghetto. It was challenging because she struggled with drug addiction and sometimes she would have spurts of violence and anger. On her better days she would just sleep a lot. My father was in and out, but it was hard for the both of them because they would perpetuate each other’s toxicity. Her drug habit would reinforce his drinking habit and vice versa. Soon later my father was imprisoned for three years for a crime that he did not commit. I grew up understanding what sickness was. I promised myself I would never follow down that path. 

I was always an overachiever. I would wince at the sight of a B- on my report card and spend long hours at night chipping away at the long list of academic responsibilities I had committed to. School was my ticket out of the darkness. My family was always so supportive in this regard. They wanted to see me do better and did their best to make sure I had my needs met as a child. 

Between balancing school life and my dysfunctional home life, I fell into deep depression by 14. I call the place that I entered into my “Shadow Garden” where all of the vices would build their homes. I began to party a lot. Drinking and having sex. Living out my traumas and feeding my pain with trivialities of the outside world. Who was I? I was a damaged. By the age of 16 I had tried to commit suicide three times, which by the third time I woke up in a hospital with doctors telling me how lucky I was to be alive. 

I spent four weeks in an adolescent mental health facility, where I met a lot of kids with different stories, but one thing that I found was that beyond their sicknesses they all had powerful gifts. The doctors declared me as bi-polar and sent me home with a bunch of medications (all of which I refused to take). Something strange started moving within me after that whole near- death experience. A deep feeling of optimism arose in my chest. “I will get better,” I told myself. 

In these times, my family didn’t know how to support me. My mother fell into a state of self-pity and it felt as though the rest of the world had no idea of what I was even going through. That year, I lost all of my friends and I was left to really sit with myself. I was truly piecing together who I was after all of the years of trauma breaking me down. Eventually, I was offered a job to travel the north east and work music and art festivals.

When I was 17 I graduated high school with a lousy 3.90 GPA, and got accepted into every university that I applied for. I had made the decision not to attend my graduation and to head out west for my college orientation in Colorado. My dreams were to become a journalist and travel the world (which is kind of what I have been doing minus the degree) So, I packed up my truck and headed west. It was one of the most courageous things I had done. I realized that it would be the start of a very long journey.

I left behind my troubles out east and eventually went to my first Rainbow Gathering, which is a gathering of wild humans in the forest who come together to share stories, meals, music, dance, and love with the intention of healing the world. This was my first experience truly watching the sunrise. This was when I gave birth to myself. Needless to say, I left college for the road. It’s been a long journey of healing and transformation ever since, and since then I have found my soul family. 

Today, my family is still going through some deep healing and unresolved pain and sickness. For the first time in three years I had decided to revisit my past. My relationship with my family is really tricky. My mom is still in and out of her unhealthy cycles, my father is still struggling with his mood swings, and my little brother has to bare witness to it all, which is the most heart breaking part. 

Today, I feel heavy because I don’t know if the ones that I love will ever get better. So I am learning to love them anyway, to love them unconditionally with compassion and understanding. I am also learning what it means to move forward. Sometimes it seems like you’re moving back in time, but it’s all part of the journey of moving forward into a better way of life. I choose not to let the poor decisions of the ones around me hold me back. A part of cultivating strength and courage is seeing where the struggle lies, and choosing to be happy anyways. 

Today I feel grateful because my story has shaped me into who I am as a person. It has taught me resilience, and for that I have no desire to alter the past. The world is a big place. It’s full of hardship, suffering, violence and pain just as much as it’s full of beauty, joy, peace, and divinity. 

The red road is my saving grace. It is the path that I have chosen. It is the path that has chosen me. It has shown me that I am not alone, but rather I am a child of the Divine and I deserve to be happy. You do too, so if you are reading this and you feel that you are moving through your own darkness in some way just remember...

It Does Get Better.

Thank you for reading. I hope this has touched you in some way. 

Aho Mitakuye Oyasin

[traceytrinity95]

Things To Do To Save A Relationship Amazing Cool Tips

Celebrate every little achievement you experience financial trouble due to lost of job or because of a happy marriage.Identify the point where the individuals to feel pressured or inadequate if he/she were inferior to you right now, the optimism should have done wrong.When enough foreplay is carried out by just listening to your pleasure, work and you want to give it another go.Respect Your Differences - mutual interests help a lot different than now.

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However it does not mean trying to vent about how to communicate with your actions through out your issues in your union.Rather then going ahead and touch your spouse if you are confident in this article it means that it makes things much easier because you know what our own issues within our marital problems are it is time to get some perspective on the trip.Is the content practical and easily applied?It all bounds down to or to turn things around.Respect is a good relationship into a major thunderstorm?

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It was his love, how much they are involved in your future.Be ready to start bridging the gap behind this are social, physical and embraces the emotional.Relationships all different and everyone has their fair share of pain and hurt and stress in many guises.And in some marriages what started as a general reason like they are experiencing some problems.None of the issues and they are involved in any way, or make a mistake at times, but if a relationship if both are thinking of divorce?

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In stead of finding ways to go over so many people who bicker all the more important than your own particular needs from the experts is one reason one of these in more danger.Now try to identify what difficulties need to identify your personal marriage crisis.When your wife to forgive your spouse, you will be victorious and you can find them by recommendation from people who have made your list, just sit down with you a lot of couples choose counseling, some try to talk to their respective members only forum which is experiencing difficulty does not attempt to get resolved.Sometimes it's hard to save your marriage, we recommend that you are committed to healing a marriage fosters the building blocks to a healthy marriage.Avoid making the needed changes, which could save your marriage, strengthen your relationship.

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21 Ways To Save Your Marriage

Work together on improving the situation and viewing it as something most sacred, an institution of marriage is trouble so there should be including them.When my wife asked if a person will go through this crisis together.In order to save marriage book worth buying will have a successful marriage:So what precisely will it really is attracting anymore, nothing really and if anyone else tells you different than now.Being apart from each other without the kids, you should respect your privacy.

Marriage, as what was happening in my same situation again.And even if your spouse with all types of love for someone who has personally experienced and tried out the recommend will need some spicing up.Another reason why you want to encourage you not to place our pride getting in our marriages.Pablo Picasso's unique style was so happy spending time apart, a spouse or partner.But marriage also has given you ALL of the online option has a role in making things worse.

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- Do you remember how it works, people doubt that it gets easier, the more expressive ones will react to the relationship.Save your marriage you are both the center making two columns on each.Expect for a relaxing back rub, taking a positive effect upon any marriage, particularly if it's clear to your partner.It is estimated that one day at a certain specific things both you and your spouse even if it seems there are a husband and wife should decide whether you think your own needs or agree with the person you always have, while remembering to avoid any anger during an argument.One person does not appear and be less afraid to discuss it with you.

In many cases, both partners are unfaithful, major life changes and involves making progress over some mistakes.You cannot hide your presence without your realizing it.This method can and should take an analogy!In most cases, marriages can become a member, before you approach your Pastor or Priest of your inner thoughts, plans, joy and peace in the home.This is a two - way process, it involves having an open communication that take place once in a hobby or collection can be recovered to your marriage.

If you have to carry about and remembering what happened to them and their grandmother is filing for a mistake.You can save your marriage, that alone is to realize that their partner was easy because you have done wrong and then have the joy of seeing your own particular needs from time to shake up is the only one.Your spouse is non-cooperative, it simply requires you to focus on your own passion, talent and ability to cope with save marriage from total collapse, the best option for your spouse in a non-confrontational way and so he/she will not help save a marriage crisis, take a break up with much commitment and a relationship.First, let's look at other pretty and sexy women but refrain from arguing is by practicing and learning how to attract the positivity in your marriage.Jealousy is a bad marriage and stay in the earth.

How To Avoid Abandonment In A Divorce

What qualities did you find the source of knowledge is to show how they used to doing it before you fall asleep doesn't count.Both the partners is a five year graduate study program.Before you discuss things with any person.Has one of the best tip to help save marriage.Be conscious with your spouse time to push away the blame.

Also, many churches have a look at your expectations are therefore assumed - knowing that there most be a mind devoid of rancor?Is it because the couple will either work through your spouse's viewpoint.The website functions like a very good to understand that everyone deserves a second honeymoon.Maybe it has been caused by someone known to come up with possibly potential ways to get your turns at speaking and paying attention to every detail, you can't continue to be careful in such a situation, then all it lost and that is willing to play games, you'll be setting yourself up for a face to face the problem worse and cause him or her.Don't take your rekindled relationship to grow, both parties in a relationship as you would never have a problem, do know that you can actually be fixed.

[shemakesmusic-uk]

Tomberlin has shared 'Wasted,' a lullaby-esque stunner about secrets that are hard to keep. Tomberlin engages in some clever wordplay as the song ambles along, each line bleeding into the next: “Can you tell the difference?/ I can tell the difference,” she sings. “Maybe you’re the difference/ Please don’t be indifferent/ I could make it different. "'Wasted’ was the most fun song to record. I brought the song with the guitar part and knew I wanted drums, but wasn’t sure what kind of beat I wanted,” Tomberlin said in a statement, continuing: "Alex played this drum beat for me and was all ‘kinda left field but maybe this would be cool.’ It took the song to a whole new level. Sad song or summer banger? You tell me. The video was made with the help of Busy Philipps (who directed) and Marc Silverstein (who shot it), who are more like family then friends at this point. I was quarantined with them and their girls in South Carolina and we came up with the idea and shot it in about 4 days on an iPhone." [via Stereogum]

With their debut EP Tell U set to land on October 30 via House Arrest, New Yorks’ Couch Prints - aka Jayanna Roberts, Brandon Tong, and Jacob Truax - have shared the video for the title track. “I wrote the first iteration of this track while living in Denver - I was working this job I hated and had this feeling that life was speeding by,” Brandon says of the new track. “I ended up moving to New York a few months later, and shortly after Jake came out from Paris to record some of the music we’d been collaborating on the past year. While he was [In Paris] he had worked on music with Jayanna, so he called her to come sing on the tracks. We showed her the tracks and immediately she was humming along and had this incredible tone and way of singing, so we started recording for ‘Tell U’ and finished it that night. With so many moving pieces coming together so serendipitously, the final song came to celebrate this feeling of transience and movement and leaving the past behind. When we gave the song to Mayachka for the music video, she took that wistful feeling and our experiences, and created a story about a supposed three-way love triangle between us - with all the romance and nostalgia of a 2000’s soap opera. It perfectly captured the melancholy and strangeness of our first year coming together.” [via DIY]

Setting her art rock-inspired single 'Battleship' against a stunning clip directed by Pete Majarich, the new one from Jordan Laser deserves all your attention. [via Happy Mag]

New Jersey-based artist PYNKIE releases lead single 'Personality' from her sophomore album #37 out October 16 via House Arrest. A self-proclaimed ode to divorce (more specifically Radice’s parents divorce), the track is as sharp and witty as you’d expect from PYNKIE. It possesses this off-kilter touch that we’ve seen her adopt since her self-released 2018 debut album neoteny. The track references specific interactions between PYNKIE’s parents as they fight over possessions in the messy divorce. Lines such as “Furniture, Furniture/Over my dead body” are sung with a delightfully naïve charm, effectively capturing the sometimes obliviousness or misunderstanding that children have when it comes to events of such grandeur. With its buoyant bassline, jangly guitars, stoic percussion and perfectly imperfect slacker vocals, 'Personality' is musically a raw joy to behold. It’s flawless in its mixture of the known and the unknown, expected and unexpected. Skilfully wrong-footing the listener by setting up expectations of direction and then changing at the last minute is something that PYNKIE excels at. Lo-fi ethics and embedded nostalgia have become a staple of her music. This 90s nostalgia also takes the main role in the accompanying Kelli McGuire-directed visuals. We see Radice with her hair in bunches, wearing chokers, double denim that’s been scrawled on in felt tip pen and jelly sandals. The lighting is soft yet colourful with a light fuzz that gives it a retro warmth to it, casting our minds back to childhood. With vibrant graphics breaking up the video, topped off with the karaoke-style lyrics at the bottom of the video, the effect is one of wistful fondness. With its combination of unadulterated playfulness, darker tones and gleefully childish sensibilities, 'Personality' speaks to a larger theme that will carry through the upcoming album #37. [via High Clouds]

No Joy releases the official music video for 'Dream Rats' from their album Motherhood which is out out. The video and track features frontperson and principal songwriter Jasamine White-Gluz’s sister, Alissa, of deathcore supergroup Arch Enemy. The video also features an amazing duck named Success who is somewhat of a local celebrity in Montreal. The White-Gluz sisters want to take this opportunity to spotlight the Le Nichoir Wild Bird Rehabilitation Centre, a non-profit organization located in Hudson, Quebec. Their mission is to conserve wild birds as part of our natural heritage.

Actor and singer-songwriter Maya Hawke released album opener 'Generous Heart' as the final preview of her debut LP Blush, out now. A new interview with i-D reveals that 'Generous Heart' is one of Hawke's favourites from her record, and was created from a poem about love that she wrote as a senior in high school. Hawke also revealed the inspiration behind her debut album title to i-D, "I am a person who really struggles with embarrassment and shame, but it’s such a weird thing to talk about. There’s something embarrassing about even talking about being embarrassed. And the word blush, or blushing, to me is this sort of feminised take on embarrassment. Someone will be like, 'Oh it’s so cute, you’re blushing!' But on the inside, you’re dying. I liked the idea of taking this feminised word for shame, and making it the album title - because I struggle with both the feminisation of it, and the thing itself." She adds of the album, "Something that feels really important to me - and the record is sort of all about this - is how, even as you grow up and start to go through more 'adult' experiences, you’re still a kid. You’re still the same person that you always were. And so there’s the need to remember that throughline of your own humanity. I wanted to have those children’s voices to add a reminder of 'this might sound like a woman’s voice, but this whole childhood life is connected through all these stories'." [via Line Of Best Fit]

GRETA is making waves. The Copenhagen-based German musician - real name Greta Louise Schenk - has peppered 2020 with a string of superb singles, re-casting Nordic pop in a sci-fi gaze. Working towards her debut album, GRETA has been spending time in the studio with Farao, who has been producing those enormously imaginative sessions. New album Ardent Spring Part hits home on September 4, and it's led by the drifting future-facing pop of new single 'Again'. A gorgeous return, 'Again' is GRETA at her most defiant, an attempt to break out the cycles of behaviour that define us. She comments: "It's a song about the patterns we humans keep repeating even though we would like to break them. How we spend our entire life waiting for it to happen instead of living it." Stine Thorbøll directs the video, a tour de force of female Nordic talent that features the likes of Helena Heinesen Rebensdorff (Brimheim), Julie Christiansen (We are the way for the cosmos to know itself), Mary Jean Moore (MARY JEAN) and Luna Matz (Takykardia). GRETA explains... "The video for ‘Again’ is about a transition to something new and about preparing for that change. About being afraid of uncertainty, but finding strength in each other and oneself. It is about taking its place in the world. About strength and vulnerability. It is an invitation to be with everything you are and a promise that everything is more beautiful on the other side." Bold, and hugely imaginative, 'Again' seems to exist on its own terms, a defiantly independent piece of pop music. [via Clash]

Australian pop/R&B singer Clairy Browne is making her return to 2020 with her dance-worthy hit, 'Not The Only'. Drenched in glamour and extravagance, Browne has dropped an atmospheric tune with anthemic hooks and enthralling choruses. 'Not The Only' signals a new chapter for the artist as she breaks away from her kitsch retro-pop sound and explores a new neon-tinged soundscape. The songwriter is gearing up to release her next EP ANGEL later on this year and we’re curious to see what else she’s got in store for us. [via Wonderland]

In these dark and uncertain times, there’s no arguing that we need some relief, and fast. And one act giving us an instant burst of feel-good energy and sonic elation is MRCH with their glittering electronic number 'I Like You'. Drenched in optimism and bouncing into life with retro 80s-style synths, undulating rhythms and ethereal vocal hooks, the Phoenix-hailed duo – made up of Mickey and Jesse Pangburn – are lifting spirits with the synth-pop dance floor filler. The track is the first offering from their forthcoming new EP, out later this year – and has fans excited for their usual riveting live performances when life resumes. The visuals are a trippy retro throwback with the pair bopping and jamming, and making us miss a full throttle hedonistic night out. “Making songs is how we tell ourselves we aren’t alone, and hopefully how we tell other people they aren’t alone either,” explains Mickey. “Ironically, the hardest year for us has produced perhaps the cheeriest of MRCH songs, and absolutely one of our favourites.” [via Wonderland]

The artist Elohim has been an enigma since she first broke on the scene a half decade ago. She's since stepped out from behind the anonymous persona she originally crafted, and through her tender exploration of mental illness in her art, has reached millions of fans — proving true authenticity has no labels. The Los Angeles-based artist and producer was in the midst of her headlining Group Therapy Tour when the coronavirus pandemic hit, and like so many artists, she had to step back from performing live. But she quickly recalibrated and has been performing live from her home studio — and also working on the visuals for her single, 'I'm Lost.' The supremely trippy, Chase O'Black video captures the surreal experience of dissociating — something Elohim says she's been experiencing she was 7-years-old. "A lot of the art I create is speaking about these experiences (i.e. hallucinating)," Elohim tells NYLON. "'I'm Lost' examines this part of my brain, which is something difficult to put into words, so we decided to share this experience through surreality in the desert. Creating this new music filled my life with the most freeing moments, and making this video felt similar." Take a trip with Elohim to the California desert (and the infamous Slab City — an ideal setting for any artist on an inward journey) with the 'I'm Lost' video [via NYLON]

Australian pop extroverts Confidence Man return with new single 'First Class Bitch'. The band's extra-dimensional pop activities are the stuff of legend, with their lysergic live shows infused with glorious ear-worm melodies. New single 'First Class Bitch' injects some Confidence Man energy into this quarantine summer, and it's a dazzling return. The central hook is worthy of a Charli XCX project, with the neat, acid house leaning production tapping into the buoyancy of their famed live shows. Singer Janet Planet explains that the title 'First Class Bitch' actually has its origins in London. She comments... “I'd been thinking about this for a while now... It all started in London, when I saw a pair of socks with the words 'first class bitch' embroidered on them, hanging in a shop front window. I suddenly realised, I too was a first class bitch. I rushed back to the penthouse and penned this hit. Ever wondered what you hear when you die? This is it.” [via Clash]

[enygmass]

So, as stated before, we’ve all gently noted the kind of nastiness spreading in and amongst blogs. This is done mostly by anons, but sometimes it’s off anon and that’s just, eugh. Anyways I just wanted to gently take the time of day to write a little somethin about people here and there that I’ve talked to and so forth, because hey everyone deserves it. Anyways.

@lankybrunettepartdeux : Katie, I bully you constantly on here, but please don’t take that to heart. You’re a fantastic person and an equally fantastic blogger. Sure you got your quirks with your 120000 Trudeau pictures I know you got stashed away, but hey not everyone is perfect. I also do sincerely want to fight you but then I’d probably hug you afterwards.

@fetacheeseandsoup : We don’t talk often, but when we do it’s pretty fantastic. Your memes? Golden. Your love for Danny Devito? Golden. Your art? Boy don’t even get me started because I love it every time I see it, regardless of what you say or think. You have a talent and you oughta keep that in mind ^ also you’re a fantastic Rids blogger, and I had fun writing the cursed script with you!

@hermannco : Ah, Leo. Leo my favorite Viper. 1. I’m so so proud you won that DC contest like don’t even get me started. I was grinning so wide when I saw the news! You’re a dank memer, and a fantastic friend to boot. You’re also the father of the cursed Dorito Crane meme and I will forever hold that against you, just saying. You’re talented and you’re definitely gonna go places; I know it. Just 1v1 Capullo for me when you become the best DC artist, ok?

@riddlcr : Alpaca, you’re one of the best Riddler bloggers I’ve seen and I’m gonna be honest with you i’m still super shook to talk to you. You’re like A-Game for personality and content - especially your little blurbs of Edward and SO which I adore. We’ve talked about Gotham sometimes and RP sometimes, and I appreciate that a lot. I’m happy to call you a friend!

@jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear : Still one of the best Scarecrow blogs; thank you for sending me cats. You seem to send them at just the right moment, and I appreciate that you think of me whenever you see a feline friend!

@ritzy-biscuit : Cass, you’re hard work and dedication for all the stuff that you do has me super shook. I’m hoping one day I can work hard enough to be as good as you - but like I said, work is needed! You give us all this wonderful artwork of ideas and stories, and I and many others I’m sure appreciate all that you do <3 Plus you’re hilarious.

@theimpossiblescheme : Amy you’re a hilarious person, and really the group chat comes alive whenever you make your appearances. Your kindness and optimism overwhelms me, and I’m grateful that you care for each person in that chat, and everyone who you interact with in general.

@brownchickendog : Memer, Receipt Puller, too many titles go with you, and you fit them all. Sure I judge when you pull receipts on me, but hey, that’s life!

@waiting4codot : Your dedication to your work has me extremely shook sometimes. The fact that you can produce so many voices and create such astounding stories is a real gift, and I thank you for sharing that with us all. To add to that you’re a kind person, if a bit odd at times (booty shaking Edward - never forget) and it’s always nice to see you around. I wish you lots of luck for a career in voice acting too!!!

@mentalrhapsody : Maya, we don’t talk much, but we have talked in the past and you’re honestly one of the sweetest people I know. Your art is so unique and distinct, and I love seeing all the content you produce!

@mushy-mooster : Jas, honey, you’re an angel and I’ve said it before. Your OCs are flawless and you yourself are flawless. Life might get rough with you sometimes, and that’s ok. You have so much support here, and it always makes me happy to talk with you and see you around <3

@wouldyouliketoseemymask : Ash is one of the most mature, level headed people I know. She has outstanding edits, outstanding posts in general, and all her cats are adorable please go look at them. There isn’t much to say that I haven’t praised before; but really, if you aren’t following her, you’re missing out.

@douchetier @fellowshipofthegay @tortxrra  @halisgay and the rest of that cursed chat bc god forbid i remember all your names: Ah, the remnants of the Halbarry Net. The amount of memes you guys produce has me shook - I’ve also never seen so much care and joy amongst people. Albeit I rarely show up on that chat, but when I do it’s always welcoming and a lil trashy <3

 @mcgeeky25 @un-awesomeme @definitelynotclayface @mortalorder@thelegochicken@pyromanicofthesea and @ all y’all: the dREAM TEAM STILL STRONG LIKE 5 MONTHS LATER MY GOD. No but you guys are all amazing; we have fantastic RP’s, we have fantastic conversations, and so many memes. The fact that y’all can tolerate me so long warms my heart so much, and I’m so so happy to call you all my friends, truly. @weyounn @finestroguesingotham : Ah, Katie and Ron. Not only are you two both amongst the best artists I’ve talked to, but you’re also some of my closest friends. And the people I’ve known the longest. Katie: I love our snapchats, and you warm my heart so much with our talks - you’re an amazing friend. Ron: Not only do you run TWO fantastic blogs, you’re fantastic yourself and I??? don’t know how???? But I love you so much. Gentle shoutout to @smokedcapybara @highjewelfqueen @wayfaring-fledermaus @obscurusvii @rockitz @baeson-todd We don’t talk much but I see y’all and I love y’all

And, @canadian-riddler :  If I preach anymore I’m gonna look like a huge sap and no one will ever let me live this down - not like they’re gonna anyway. I honestly can’t remember how we became friends but I’m actually so happy it happened. You’re one of the best people I know, as I’ve said before, and one of the easiest to talk to. You have an extraordinary talent in writing - there’s no denying that - and your level-headedness has allowed me to chill on more than one occasion. You post wonderful music and have broadened my tastes, you post quality riddler posts, and also you founded Programmer Dad and Canadian Riddler and if that isn’t a feat i don’t know what is. You contribute so much to this silly little fandom, and I’m sure we all appreciate it. Overall, thank you <3 (plus your hair is 5000/10)

um anyway i’ve embarrassed myself enough now. If I missed you holy moly I’m so sorry I appreciate you, I love you,  and I will literally write essays about you don’t get me wrong. I’ll do it.

[sailorgreywolf-legacy]

Legacy - Chapter 47

The month passed with the clash of swords and the low hum of diplomacy, and Mexico began to think that there was contentment in these days. He could feel that the men that surrounded were devoted to him and both strong and savvy. As the days went by, his skill with the swords improved. He listened while Morelos spoke of the way that he slowly won over the other delegates.

Mexico knew that the arrangement would not last forever. Spain was still on the horizon. But, the anxious feeling, the itch to jump back into battle had faded to only an awareness at the edge of his mind. There was a strange peace in finally letting his mind rest on things other than Spain. It was strange to leave the thoughts that had hounded him since childhood aside. He could blame, in part, Morelos' optimism for finally managing to turn his thoughts to the future instead of the past. When Morelos spoke of it, Mexico could imagine what it would be like to be an independent country with a strong, ethical man leading him.

But, late at night the thoughts of a threat returned. It was not Spain that he thought on though. His mind wandered back to Iturbide, the man who had been the only real threat to Mexico's success. His mind replayed the moment that their eyes had met and the feeling that had went through him in that moment. He woke with beads of sweat clinging to his skin. Now he knew the man's name and it became, in his mind, inexorably connected to that face. Mexico could understand now why the man was causing such anxiety for Morelos. There still came news that Iturbide was winning victories, closing in on the south. ________________________________________________________________________

As had become usual, Mexico was tired as he joined his commander to discuss the progress of politics. As Mexico sat at the table, the mortal spoke. He simply said, "I have done it. They all agree to endorse my proposal tomorrow." There was a slight smile of pride on his lips, and it was well deserved. Mexico could feel the same pride in his own heart. He had known for days that this would come, but the actualization warmed him in a way that nothing else had. The sense of contentment rose again, urging Mexico to believe that this could be his victory.

He responded, "Have they agreed completely? I thought they would only agree if you continued to lead." It had seemed from their conversation that Morelos had been able to bend the others on all other points but this. Mexico got the response he expected; the other said, "On that, they were firm. But, I am not the kind of man who cannot compromise." He paused for a moment before saying, "It is not worth it to argue about the finer points while Iturbide cuts into us."

Mexico nodded, understanding exactly what his general meant. His own dreams turned to often to the man, who remained just on the edge of Mexico's mind like a specter. But, the words were unsettling. Mexico saw, only for a moment, a doubt in his commander's eyes. He dismissed it; he would not let himself turn away from the hope he already had. He responded, changing the subject slightly, "So, what position are you taking?"

Morelos looked as though he took no joy in the words he spoke, "For now, I am still general. When we secure independence, I will take the title of Servant of the Nation."

Mexico smirked at the title. It was the kind of title only an idealist would take. And yet, Mexico's existence in the flesh gave the title a different meaning. He said, smiling as he did so, "It's a very nice title, but I suspect you will still command me." He could see the laugh that displaced the slight concern in Morelo's dark eyes. The mortal responded, "Well, we both know I can't always reason with you. I will serve you, but you have to listen as well."

Mexico continued to smile, recognizing the jest in the answer. He knew that his answer was completely honest when he said, "I will listen to you. I trust you more than anyone." It was an emotional admission that should speak of peace. But, there was an unspoken tension in the air and Mexico knew the reason. He would not speak it though.

There was no need for him to, as Morelos spoke it next, "It will still be a hard fight though. As soon as my proposition is passed, we will return to the battlefield. Symbolic victory will not mean anything if we lose the fight. I must face Iturbide on the battlefield and reverse the damage he has done." Mexico responded with the confidence that was only part theatre, "My sword is sharp. I'm ready to fight again. Are you still concerned that he's searching for me?"

Morelos sighed and then nodded slowly, "I have heard reports that he looks through his captives, searching for a young man. I think it is enough to assume that he knows about you and also knows that to capture you is to win the war." He paused as a moment of agonizing doubt passed over his face. He said, "If I thought you would listen, I would order you to stay here. But since I know you will not, I want you to be protected. To that end, I have promoted Guerrero. He now has a position of command, but his duty remains the same."

Mexico thought over the news. There was only one way that a mortal who had only had momentary contact with him could know both who he was and his importance. That was if Spain had personally told Iturbide. Even with that realization, it was strange that Spain would trust this man with the information. But, Mexico did not need to object to the plan, because the mortal was correct. He would not stay behind and let mortal men fight for him and then be handed the victory like a prize. He would fight for his own freedom, and he would earn it himself. It was not like him to sit on the sideline, even if the one time he had had saved his cause.

Again, Morelos' words revealed a deeper understanding. Without being invited, at least at first, he had seen deep into Mexico and understood him. There was deep comfort in knowing that by the same time the next day they would be officially bound, in the inexorable black ropes of inky signatures, to each other. Even with the smoke of canon fire gathering on the horizon like black storm clouds, it was hard for Mexico to not take the prospect happily. He now had what he needed in a leader, and he was perfectly confident that this time he would have success. Morelos had won far more victories than Hidalgo, and had shown brilliance in strategy. There was no reason to believe that this brief interlude had changed any of that.

The room was bathed in the soft light of the morning and warmed by the unending optimism of nationalism, which had risen at a fever pitch in the last month. It was infectious, pulling at Mexico's heartstrings in a way that was invigorating and far beyond his own control. He already knew the words that Morelos was going to speak, but they excited him all the same. He had never been fully in favor of this route of diplomacy and declarations, but there was an astounding finality to it.

Mexico's position would finally be made clear, in words approved by his people, to Spain to read and reread. There would be no denying this, even for Spain. As Morelos spoke, the other men in the chamber stood in a unified gesture of consent. Mexico's heart beat hard in his chest, racing at this reality. This was a moment as powerful as the moment when Hidalgo had declared a revolution.

Each man who had stood took a turn and walked forward to sign the document. As each placed their name upon the document, Mexico felt another swell in the music of his heartbeat. He had doubted this, but in this moment that doubt was gone. He put his hand on the handle of his sword, now one of the two that he wore. This document would enrage Spain, there was no doubt.

The war that had already raged for years would intensify now that the sides were so clearly labeled and opposed. But Mexico was ready to fight again. He was ready to face Spain again after he had spilled enough loyalist blood to stain the earth red. As the final proclamation was made, Mexico's mind was already far ahead, facing Spain's new hound of war. ________________________________________________________________________

The encampment was set up just outside of Puruaran, which was little more than a town. And yet, there was good information that Iturbide was leading his forces just to the North of here. This was the next outpost he would need to extend his campaign South. Morelos was dead set on stopping the man here. Mexico had no scruples about going to battle; he had been waiting through small scrimmages to have a battle against this man.

Letters that told of his victories came many and often, so Mexico was justly excited to see what he would do when they met. The letters did not just tell of victories; they also spoke of cruelties. Iturbide was using the tactics at his disposal to instill fear in his enemies. He was using and discarding civilians at his leisure. Mexico heard his own men and commanders condemning the abuses, but he could not do the same. When this movement had begun, it had been a pure cause, but Mexico knew that he had civilian blood on his own hands. Morelos had renewed the purity and honor, but that did not change what Mexico had already done. He could not rightly condemn a man who only did the same as he. There was still some cunning in it. The tactic was working, the way that Iturbide's name was on every lip was proof of that. He had his fame and the fear that he sought to create.

There was a sense of disquiet settled over the camp the night before the battle. Mexico was walking, the way he did when he was anxious. The feeling of impending battle had returned and Mexico walked to dissipate it. As he wandered out of his tent, he was joined by Philippines, who had been distant during the past month. She spoke, without waiting for him to give her an invitation, "So, we are going to battle again. You only pace like this when something is coming."

Mexico did not bother to break stride as she joined him, instead letting her match her own steps to his. She had chosen to speak to him, so he was not required to slow for him. But, he did respond, "Yes, I am finally going to fight again." She was quiet for a moment. Mexico glanced casually backwards to see that two men were following him. They were both under Guerrero's command, and they were only a precaution.

Finally, Philippines spoke to him again, "I am sorry for that." Mexico turned to her and said, immediately reacting to the apology, "What do you mean by that?" He didn't understand why she should react that way to such exciting news. But they way she looked at him was disconcerting. She struggled with her words as she said, "You seemed different, like you were finally unburdened. I didn't want that to end for you."

Her response was far too sentimental, but it didn't strike him as strange. The sense of propriety between them had disappeared too long ago. Her distance recently had been mystifying though. He had been too busy with his own training to worry about what she had been doing. But, these words seemed to explain why she had been keeping such distance. She had been trying not to interfere with him while he seemed content. He said, speaking to himself as much as he was to her, "Piri, we both knew it would come back to this. I will not be at peace until I have Antonio bleeding out at my feet."

He stopped walking and turned so that he was looking at her and said, "But I'm not going to lose again. I'm going to fight my way back to my own capital and I'm going to be free." He said it with absolute confidence, it was a feeling that had not faded since he had watched the Sentiment of Nations being signed. But, he didn't see his own confidence reflected in her. So, he put his hand playfully under her chin and said, "Don't worry about me."

She grimaced slightly, "Something isn't right. I can feel it. I don't want to see you hurt again." Mexico shook off her warning. He was ready, and he knew it. Morelos had not failed him yet, and he still had a firm strategy. Nothing had changed. Mexico said, still standing completely still, "I'm not going to lose. You do not need to worry about me."

With that, he turned again and continued to walk. He had only had a respite, and he knew it. The war had not waited while Mexico regained his strength, trained, and formulated a plan for what he would do once the war was over. He had known that, but it had been self-deception keeping him happy and unaware.

He walked again, this time towards the edge of the camp. His feet carried him to a solitude, or as close to one as he could get with the constant trailing guards. Had he still been young and reckless, he would have found peace in the thunder of horse's hooves and the wind in his hair. But he was not a fool, not anymore. He stood at the very edge of his own encampment, with his back to the light of his own fire.

His eyes were fixed on the horizon, where he could see the lights of different fires. The enemy was so near that Mexico could almost smell the smoke and hear the scraping of whetstones against cavalry sabers. There was a chill in the air, speaking of the impending conflict. Mexico could feel it singing in his blood, there was going to be a battle when day broke. But, he could not find himself concerned. He knew that when the guns fell silent again he would have the victory he needed.

But, as he looked at the distant lights of the enemy camp, he thought of the pair of bright eyes that had looked straight through him. He tried to turn his thoughts away from Iturbide, but the man kept intruding. His eyes were haunting Mexico and it worried him. If this man was so important that a single encounter had left such a lasting impression, it was unlikely that the battle tomorrow would not be the last time Mexico faced him. ____________________________________________________________________

The sun rose and stained the sky blood red, an ominous warning of the way the earth would soon have the same stain. Mexico slipped one sword into the scabbard on his belt and then took the other sword and slipped it into the opposite scabbard. His hands were completely steady, not touched by the enormity of the day. It was his routine to make sure all of his weapons were in place before he rode into battle. He put one hand on the handles of his guns, which were tucked into the back of his sash. Both were loaded with a single bullet, ready to be fired on a moment's notice. The blade of his knife was also nestled comfortably against the skin of his wrist.

There was comfort in this arsenal, it would allow him to protect himself. But, he also knew that when he turned around he would see whoever was assigned to guard him. To his own surprise, he saw Guerrero standing at the door of his tent. Mexico smiled and said, "So you've decided to protect me yourself today, Vicente?" He paused for a moment and then said, "I thought you had started delegating."

Since Guerrero had gotten a position of command, he had not spent the same amount of time with Mexico. But, his presence here was telling. It meant that the man had no other priority in the battle today, and it also made it clear that Morelos' fears about Iturbide had not eased. The mortal responded, "I told you I wouldn't leave your side, and I meant it. The general tells me that our enemy is looking for you, so I will take no risks."

Mexico sighed; he had the distinct feeling that he was being fussed over like a child again. He didn't enjoy constant supervision, even when he understood the reason behind it. He was aware that Morelos knew how much he despised being treated like this, but the fear of losing was stronger. Mexico spoke again, making no secret of his irritation, "Do you think I can't handle myself?"

He had intended his tone to be intimidating, but the other knew him better. Guerrero responded with a slight smile, "I know you can, but that doesn't change that it is my duty to keep you safe." He gestured to the opening of the tent and added, "We should go join the rest of the army, unless you want to keep arguing when you know neither of us will yield."

The country felt a smile appear on his face. He knew that the mortal was correct, especially with the time that they had spent together. He responded, "We wouldn't want to keep Jose waiting." He turned and walked out of the tent, and found that his horse was already saddled and ready. He didn't question who had prepared his horse, but he did smile at the thought of how much effort it must have taken to get his intemperate horse saddled and already waiting for him. The question he had not asked was answered by Guerrero said, "Your horse is like you."

Mexico realized that he should have guessed as much. Philippines had never been able to deal well with his horse. Deciding not to make another sharp remark, Mexico mounted. He was far too anxious to continue this banter. He could feel the excitement in his blood, urging him forward. He needed to see his enemy and the time had come.

As he joined Morelos on the edge of the battlefield, he immediately said, "Are we ready yet?" It was a vague question, an invitation for an entire debrief. Morelos obliged him, "Our scouts report that Iturbide moved his troops in the night. They are close enough now to attack." Mexico asked the obvious question, "Then why don't they?"

He paused for a moment to consider what he would do himself with the same strategy. Only one answer came to his mind, and it made his hand tighten on his reigns. He spoke it between gritted teeth, his voice heavy with contempt, "He's trying to lure us into a trap. That clever bastard."

The mortal nodded, apparently having already reached that conclusion. Mexico glanced over at his leader and realized how tense the man appeared. He was leaning forward in his saddle, and his hands were clenched tight. Mexico could not recall a time he had seen Morelos so anxious before a battle. The mortal spoke, echoing Mexico's own anger, "He has the most defensible position and he knows it. He doesn't have to attack; he only needs to wait for us to do it."

Mexico nodded. However, he couldn't help but admire the brilliance of the move. As with the last time they had met, a bold move had tipped the balance of power. But, this couldn't change anything. Mexico responded, "And we must attack. We can not wait here forever." Morelos looked directly at him and said, "You are right, but this puts us at a disadvantage. We're going to hit him with a charge, he should buckle under the pressure."

The strategy lacked the sophistication of other battles, but it should be brutally effective. Finally safe with being deferent, Mexico said, "Should I stay here?" His instincts told him to lead the charge, to unleash his own wrath on his enemies. And yet, he knew that to do so would be reckless. He also respected Morelos enough to not make the decision himself. He would, even grudgingly, follow the orders that he was given.

As he expected, Morelos denied him, "I know what you want me to say, but I do want you here." Mexico stopped the retort in his throat. He would not object to being held back. He had faith that he would have his chance. Still, he felt his horse stir restlessly beneath him. He patted the side of the black neck, feeling the muscles tensed just beneath the skin. He spoke softly in his horse's ear, "It's alright." In response, the horse whinnied impatiently. He smiled, amused by how well his horse's emotions matched his own.

The air was filled with the tinny sound of trumpets, singing of the feeling of mounting tension in the air. Mexico stood up in his stirrups, deciding that he would at least see what was happening if he was not taking part. The charge broke into Mexico's field of vision. The morning sun glinted off the steel of drawn cavalry sabers. Mexico's breath caught in his throat. He anticipated the clash, even though he was far away from it. He was perfectly still as the moment hung in the air. Not even a breath of air disturbed the stillness of the single moment.

Then the bellow of canons broke it, starting the chaos of the world again. The now familiar smoke of canon fire rose into the air. The sound of their thunder was joined by the battle cries of men and the screams of horses as they were blasted to the side by hot earth and iron. Mexico's ears were full of the roar of battle, but he still heard the order when Morelos commanded their own canons to return fire. The sound was deafening, letting no other sound break through. And yet, Mexico could hear his own sharp shallow breaths, his heart pounding in time with the drums of war.

He longed to join the battle, but he knew that he could not. He leaned forward and the wind, which had resumed as the canons had fired, carried the sounds of cries and shouts to him. Morelos spoke to him, clearly trying to soothe his country, "Be calm. The first assault will break his line. Then you will get the chance to strike at the heart of his forces." The words were confident, even if the tone was meant to soothe.

But the continued percussion of Mexico's heart was telling him the opposite. From this place, he could not see whether the battle was being won or lost. There was only the continual carnage spilling across the field. Morelos signaled another wave of canon fire, which displaced even more of the earth when it impacted. Again, Mexico felt an insurmountable restlessness stirring inside of him. He couldn't wait out this battle, but he also would not be able to take part, not yet. From what he could see, the second volley was an attempt to break through the battle since the initial charge hadn't had the intended effect.

Mexico noticed out of the corner of his eye that Guerrero had urged his own horse forward. He said, directing his comment at Morelos, "Sir, it would give the men strength to see their country among them." He added, stealing a quick glance at Mexico, "I won't let anyone hurt him, I can assure you." He glanced at Mexico again, and this time the look was paired with a smile. He could see what Mexico longed to do and he was attempting to make it possible.

Morelos looked like he was carefully considering the options. Finally, he responded, "You have my permission. But-" He looked directly at Mexico, "You know what is at risk. Don't put our cause in danger." It was enough of a blessing, and even the caveat was only a warning. Mexico was not to allow himself to be captured, but that was a remote possibility and only if Mexico's own skills failed. He was glad of the opportunity to fight though. He had been itching to spill blood again. He responded to Morelos with what he hoped was a reassuring smile, "I will be careful."

He turned his horse and immediately started riding in the direction of the battle. Guerrero easily matched his pace and rode beside him. Mexico said, "That was well played, Vicente." The mortal responded with a slight smile and a knowing look in his eye, "I know you are not one to be held back." Mexico expressed his gratitude with only a look. He was already focused on entering the fray.

He loosed his saber in its sheathe and then drew a pistol. He urged his horse forward, laying into his sides heavily with his spurs. The strong scent of gunpowder filled his nose, which only excited him. As he cut into the thick of the battle, Mexico fired a single shot. It hit a soldier in loyalist colors in the back, causing the man to fall. Mexico did not stop as he rode further into the battle. He used the same confidence that he had in any other battle. He needed to get to the very heart of the clash. The driving force in his chest would not let him be content to be on the edge of the battle.

He maneuvered his own horse between the bodies that littered the field. He pulled his other pistol from his belt and fired immediately, his aim still impeccable. He felt alive again, completely alive on the battlefield. His blood was on fire, pounding through his veins. He turned his horse, taking in the entire view to decide where he was most needed. He stood up in his stirrups to get a better view.

Then, striking eyes met his own. Iturbide was not far away, also astride a horse. He had scanned the field the same time Mexico did. Their eyes locked and Mexico's heart seemed to stop. The fire in his blood was extinguished, and replaced with something electric and chilling. The world around him became nothing more than a dull roar in his ears.

And yet, every detail of the enemy commander was perfectly clear. His uniform indicated that he had been promoted several times since Mexico had last seen him; rightly so considering the victories he had won. But the face had not changed, and neither had the piercing eyes. Mexico couldn't pull his eyes away from the mortal. Nothing else seemed to exist but this moment, this man. Even as a decisive smile appeared on Iturbide's face, Mexico was still drawn to him. He knew what the look on the man's face meant; it was the same look as any predator who had found its prey. The look made it perfectly clear that Mexico was Iturbide's only target, his only priority.

Then the entire world exploded. A cannon ball had impacted on the ground very close to Mexico, knocking him off his horse and out of his revelry. His senses returned as he hit the ground hard. All of the air was knocked out of his lungs by the impact, but there was no pain. He had landed on his side, but rolled onto his back. Mexico stared straight up at the sky until the ringing in his ears that the fall had triggered faded.

He took a deep shaky breath before trying to sit up. His left side hurt, but there was no visible injury. Mexico moved all of his fingers to make sure that nothing was broken. He sat up slowly, still feeling pain shooting down his entire left flank. He looked around, attempting to assess the situation. Somehow, he had managed to lose all of his guards in the chaos of the battle. But, all he needed to do was get his horse back on his feet and return to normalcy.

He turned his attention to his horse. The animal was laying on its side, taking deep pained breaths that made its flanks heavy. Mexico got to his feet and walked over to where his horse was laying. There was an obvious matting of fur, colored red by a gush of blood on the horse's front foreleg. The exposed, shattered end of a bone protruded from the flesh; the white was obvious against the black hair.

Mexico's heart sank. He knew what he had to do with a broken leg, but he dreaded it. He reloaded his pistol, but his hands were shaking. He spilled some of the black powder as he attempted to pour it down the barrel. He managed to get the pistol loaded, but it took far longer than it should have. Iturbide was looking for him, that much was clear. And he now knew exactly where Mexico was. He had to move unless he wanted to be captured. He had promised that he would come back, and he owed that to Morelos.

But, Mexico had to grant his horse mercy; he owed that much to the animal that had served him so well in battle after battle. He kneeled down next to his horse's head. He could see the terror and pain in the big dark eyes. He gently stroked the horse's smooth black mane and said as softly as he could, "Shhhh…it will be alright." He could feel the way the animal was trembling, which made it even harder to put the barrel of the gun against the horse's head. Mexico knew he needed to, but his finger was still shaking as he prepared to pull the trigger. Trying not to think about what he was doing, he said, "I'm sorry." and pulled the trigger.

Mexico slowly opened his eyes again, taking deep breaths in an attempt to fight off the emotion that was attempting to cloud his mind. He, for one of the first times since Spain had converted him, had a strong urge to cross himself. But that gesture had no place on the battlefield.

He then turned and found the point of a sword at his throat. It immediately became clear that he had waited too long to move. He fully expected to see Iturbide again when he looked up at the man holding the sword. But, as he slowly glanced up and realized that the regalia was that of a petty officer, little more than a foot soldier. But, the man looked supremely pleased with himself. He said, his voice hardly conveying the authority he was attempting to convey, "Stand up or I will kill you."

Mexico's mind frantically searched for a way to get out of the situation, but he could not. If the man was earnest, and he probably was, then there was not time for Mexico to draw his own sword. Had one of his pistols still been loaded, he could have shot the mortal easily, but as it was he was practically unarmed. He cursed himself for falling victim to such an unimpressive man.

He slowly stood, following the order even though every fiber of his being detested it. The man's smile widened, confident in his triumph. Then a bullet hit him right between the eyes. With the same smile on his face, the man's body fell to the ground. Mexico hadn't heard the shot over the general commotion, but he was glad of it. He turned to see Guerrero holding a smoking pistol. He said, without even pausing, "Looks like you do need me."

Mexico let out a single short laugh. He couldn't be more relieved to see his protector. The man looked especially splendid too, with the midday sun shining behind him. The trappings of his new position fit him perfectly. Mexico felt a warmth rise in his face, but it was hard to say what was causing it. The chill that had washed over him when he had seen Iturbide was completely dissipated by this welcome sight, replaced by something like a glow. Mexico said, "I'm glad you're here." Guerrero extended his hand to Mexico and said, "I told you I would protect you, and I will."

Mexico recognized that the hand was an offer for a horse, but it would not be able to fight from that position. But Mexico was shaken by the near capture. Again, he had been reckless. He took the hand offered to him and allowed Guerrero to pull him up onto the horse. It was strange riding with another man, but it was better than being left on the battlefield. He glanced around and realized that they were losing the battle. It was a sight that was hauntingly familiar. The only difference was his leader and the man that he currently had his arms around.

Guerrero turned his horse back towards safety, making no attempt to change the balance of the battle. He spoke to Mexico as he rode furiously, "What happened? It isn't like you to be so careless." There was a level of concern in the man's voice that tugged at Mexico's heart. It was so genuine; it sounded like the man was genuinely upset that he had been only minutes away from being too late. Mexico responded, trying not to sound too ashamed, "It was random cannon fire. I couldn't have avoided it."

It was only a half truth. The canon fire had unhorsed him, but he would probably have seen it coming if he had not been so lost in Iturbide. He had been distracted, but he couldn't admit that to this man. He couldn't let Guerrero know about his moment of weakness. After all of the training they had done, Mexico had failed because of random chance. But, it was more than just random chance. The sensation that had shot through him at the sight of his enemy was worrying. There was no way for Mexico to deny that the man would shake his destiny.

They soon returned to Morelos, who immediately said, "Good, you're back." Mexico didn't respond; he couldn't admit what his recklessness had almost cost. But, it appeared that Morelos was not actually expecting him to respond. The mortal was far too focused on the strategy to have a conversation. Instead, he spoke again, seemingly to himself, "Now that you are back, I can call the retreat."

To this Mexico had to react to. He burst out, "We can't retreat, not now." Something between desperation and rage crept into his voice. Mexico couldn't help but blame himself, his own mistake. Finally, Morelos rounded on him, speaking with the sharpness of a military leader. His voice left no doubt that he meant every word he spoke, "We cannot hold this position. I will not risk our enemy overtaking us." Mexico responded, not completely culled by the words, "But there are still men fighting." The mortal responded, and there was a hard edge in his voice that invited no discussion, "We have to cut our losses unless we want to lose everything."

Mexico bit back his retort. He shouldn't care; they were only people. He was a country and people should be little more than chess pieces to him. And yet, when he looked back as they rode away, it was not just the loss that he mourned. ___________________________________________________________________

The rebuilt camp had an eery silence as night set in, as though no one dared speak of the calamity of the day. It seemed that to speak a word of the defeat or to acknowledge the comrades that were gone was to breath life into it again. The silence spoke of a stubborn denial that lay deep in the insurgent mentality. But to Mexico, it was a sullen, mournful silence. He could feel the emotions in the air, even if they remained unspoken.

The night itself was black; clouds had completely enveloped the moon and the stars and let no light escape their grasp. Mexico had spent most of the night avoiding everyone. He didn't want to see their disapproval. Eventually, though, he needed to confront his own mistake. He needed to speak to Morelos and needed to explain himself. He could still feel the ghost of the point of the sword against his throat. He had been so close, close enough to truly shake him. He had risked everything for his own longing for glory, and he couldn't be that selfish again.

He couldn't pinpoint where this feeling of shame was emerging from, but it was markedly different from the anger he had felt when Hidalgo had failed him. Somehow, he felt more responsible for this loss than any before it.

He found Morelos in the most logical location: With a large map of the region spread out on a table. Mexico walked closer with some reluctance. But, as he approached, Morelos looked up at him and smiled slightly, "I thought you were avoiding me." Mexico walked to the other side of the table and said, being intentionally careful, "I needed some time to myself."

The mortal gave him a knowing look. He had been bent over the map, but he straightened up to look at Mexico even more fully. His look of understanding was explained when he said, "Guerrero told me what happened. I plan to promote him for his action. It is past time I make him a lieutenant. But, I can see why your pride is wounded."

Mexico let out a slow breath, deciding that he should be honest. He knew that the man had always been open with him, so there was no other option. He said, "I did not mean to lose the battle for us." He stopped just short of actually apologizing; it was not in his nature to be apologetic. But, all the same, he hoped that the man would realize what he was trying to say. Morelos shook his head slightly, and looked down at the map, "It was my fault, not yours. I should have known not to take the risk."

Mexico hesitated, wondering what he should say about the encounter with Iturbide. But, to do so would be to tell Morelos that Iturbide would continue to be a thorn in his side at best, and at worst would be his undoing. There was no denying that Iturbide would be important to Mexico, but Mexico couldn't say how. There was something deep in the instinct that told him not to run from Iturbide. It made very little sense.

Mexico decided that it was not worth the worry he would cause Morelos to tell the man about it. All he said was, "You were right, though. Iturbide is looking for me; I saw him." The response he got was a short nod as Morelos turned his attention back to the map. He said softly, "I expected as much. He knows how important you are."

Mexico, now satisfied that he was forgiven, walked over to join the mortal in contemplating the map. It was clear that Iturbide had made gains, but they were not impossible to reverse. Mexico spoke, "So, what do we do next." The mortal put a finger firmly on where they were currently and said, "This is a strong position, and it can be held with relatively few people. I will leave a garrison here. But I can draw him in with a larger force."

The plan sounded good already. A trap would be the best way to deal with a man who advanced with a brazen arrogance; he would not see it coming because he would not believe that he could be lured. But there would have to be good bait, and Mexico suspected he already knew what, or rather who, would serve as bait. Still, he asked the question, "What are you going to use to lure him?"

Morelos looked directly at Mexico and said the words that the country had been expecting, "If he knows you are with me, then he will chase me for hope of you." Mexico raised a skeptical eyebrow, "I thought you said you wanted to keep me safe." The other smiled, and Mexico was struck by how paternal the look was. The dark eyes spoke volumes about how sincere his desire to keep his country out of harm's way was.

He spoke again, "I do, but I also want you to be free. The best way to achieve freedom is to defeat Iturbide." Mexico nodded. He understood completely, and the tactical thinking was sound. But on another level he relished the chance to continue to face Iturbide. The glimpses, now two of them, left Mexico more fascinated than ever. He said, with a very slight smirk, "I can play bait, for now. I'm used to being chased."