#Enrique II

[ancientoriginses]

La Bella y la Bestia tiene sus raíces en la trágica historia de un supuesto hombre salvaje. Afligido por una condición médica rara, él y su familia fueron utilizados para entretener a la realeza y tratados como mascotas de la corte.

[cruger2984]

THE DESCRIPTION OF SAINT HENRY II, THE HOLY ROMAN EMPEROR Feast Day: July 13

Henry II, also known as Henry the Exuberant, was born on May 6, 973 AD in Bavaria, Germany, Holy Roman Empire, and is the son of Henry II of Bavaria and Gisela of Burgundy. He was Henry I of Bavaria's grandson through his father, and is the great-grandson of Henry the Fowler. On his mother's side, he was the grandson of Conrad the Peaceful, and the great-grandson of King Rudolph II of Burgundy.

He was educated in the Christian faith by Wolfgang of Regensburg during his father's exile, and studied at Hildesheim Cathedral. The Emperor himself ensured the younger Henry received an ecclesiastical education in order that by becoming a religious official he would be prevented from participating in the Imperial government.

The death of Otto II in 983 allowed the elder Henry to be released from custody and to return from exile. The elder Henry claimed regency over Otto III, the three-year-old child of Otto II. After a failed attempt to claim the German throne for himself in 985, the elder Henry relinquished the regency to the child's mother Theophanu.

In return for his submission to the child king, Henry was restored as Duke of Bavaria. The younger Henry, now thirteen years old, was named his regent over Bavaria. When the elder Henry died in 995, the younger Henry was elected by the Bavarian nobles as the new duke to succeed his father.

Sincerely religious, Henry II supported service to the Church (he was celibate) and promoted various monastic reforms. He also strongly enforced clerical celibacy, perhaps partly in order that the public land and offices he granted to clerics would not be devised to heirs. He encouraged the reform of the Church, fostered missionary activity, and made several charitable foundations for the poor.

Wished to become a monk, and in virtue of his imperial power he ordered the Abbot of Verdun to accept him in his monastery. Thereupon, the Abbot ordered him, in virtue of the vows he had professed, to continue the administration of the empire. Henry II fulfilled his duties in the spirit of humility and service, being convinced that temporal power was given by God for the good of the people.

He succeeded in persuading Pope Benedict VIII to include the word 'Filioque' in the Nicene Creed. The addition of the term provided that the Holy Spirit emanated from both God the Father and God the Son.

Together with the concept of Papal primacy, dispute over this doctrine was one of the primary causes of the Great Schism of the Church in 1054.

Henry II inherited several unresolved ecclesiastical disputes from his predecessor Otto III. Issues of particular importance were the reestablishment of the Diocese of Merseburg and the settlement of the Gandersheim Conflict.

Returning to Magdeburg, Germany from southern Italy to celebrate Easter, he fell ill in Bamberg. After celebrating Easter, Henry retired to his imperial palace in Göttingen, and died there on July 13, 1024 at the age of 51, without an heir, and thus Henry II is the last of the Saxon kings.

Henry II is canonized as a saint by Pope Eugenius III in July 1147; while Cunigunde of Luxembourg, his spouse, was canonized on March 29, 1200 by Pope Innocent III. Henry's relics were carried on campaigns against heretics in the 1160s.

He is the patron saint of the city of Basel, Switzerland, and of St. Henry's Marist Brothers' College in Durban, South Africa. During his lifetime, Henry II became an oblate of the Benedictine Order, and today is venerated within the Order as the patron saint of all oblates, along with St. Frances of Rome.

[fotograrte]

Ronda de enlaces (21/05/2024)

Ayer me despisté y en lugar de poner la ronda de enlaces, puse una entrada normal. Pero que todos los problemas sean ese: la pongo hoy y a disfrutar de la cultura, el arte, la historia y las curiosidades. Comenzamos con la ronda: Continue reading Ronda de enlaces (21/05/2024)

[truhanthings]

[undoundue]

the pinch hitter

I. 

World Series. Game 7. Fifth inning. I, a pinch hitter, a mere benchwarmer, smack an outside pitch into the right field stands, giving the Dodgers the lead. Mookie and Freddie slap me on the back as I enter the dugout, and to celebrate we go for burritos at a Mexican place inside the stadium. How can I say no to the all-stars? And yet, isn’t it a bit irresponsible to eat such a heavy meal between innings? 

“Kiké…” Mookie says (referring to teammate Enrique Hernández), “…he don’t know how to read.”

“He can read,” Freddie amends, “but he lacks literacy.”

“His comprehension is terrible,” Mookie says. “In a way, that’s worse. More dangerous. It makes him susceptible. Susceptible to influences.”

“Oh, he’s susceptible, that’s for sure,” Freddie says. “You agree, pinch hitter?”

My burrito is dripping. The sluggers are looking at me expectantly. Dodgers fans on their way to the bathroom are stopping, staring, wondering whether we’re the real deal.

“He’s basically illiterate,” I say—nervous grin, no conviction. 

It’s the worst of both worlds. Mookie and Freddie know I’m just saying it to fit in. They’ll give me no masculine credence. But the crowd will take it seriously. The rumor will get out and hurt Kiké. 

Poor Kiké! And they’ll think I’m racist, too.

Next thing I know I’m burning rubber on the way to my Motel 6. They can pinch hit for me—why not? I pinch hit for them.

I call my friend, the promoter, and tell him, Fuck the Dodgers, we’re celebrating my home run. Get a party going. 

He’s like, Aw yeah.

But the party is a bust. The motel pool reeks of chlorine and has cloudy white streaks in it of unknown composition. There are too many dudes, not enough chicks—not enough of either, really—and all of them trashy. Short notice for a celebration. 

In the shallow end, my friend is fooling around with a white girl with pale pink hair—the color of chewed bubblegum. 

He waves at me, like, Her ass is open, you wanna fool around with her too? 

But I don’t. I am sullen. I swim over the side of the pool and do a little cocaine off the bill of my Dodgers cap. 

My Dad wades up to me. His attitude: craven, appeasing.

“Are you having a good time, son?” he asks.

I grunt. “Not enough chicks.”

My Dad gestures at the pink haired girl. "She used to be a ninja.”

“That's cool,” I say, scornfully. What, so I’m supposed to feel sorry for her?

Both my Dad and I are naked, and our penises are erect. Our penises are nearly identical in size, shape and coloration. They only distinguish themselves when a pool wave passes over, distorting one but not the other.

It makes me mad—I’m twice the man he is, and my cock should reflect this. The cocaine was insufficient in quantity and it’s serving up more of an irritable than a euphoric high.

I’m also starting to really miss the Dodgers. At least there I have purpose. There’s a big scoreboard past the diving board, and it shows that we’re tied. I flip on the TV just in time to see Kiké Hernández hit a walk-off home run.

Holy shit! We won!

II. 

Back at the stadium, Kiké and I take the stairs to the clubhouse.

“Kiké, that was…” I shake my head in awe. “Epic homer, man.”

Kiké adjusts his glasses. He has a proud, yet whispery voice. “Yes, it was epic. But, excuse me, if you look at the metre, you’ll find that it was a Spencerian, rather than Homerian epic. Yes? Yes? Do you know what I mean?”

I don’t—I have no idea what he’s talking about. I wonder if he’s mad at me.

“Kiké…whatever you heard, I never said you needed a literacy program. I never said your SAT prep was insufficient. Mookie and Freddie, they said—” 

“Shhh…quiet now. Let us get our prizes,” Kiké says. 

The clubhouse is pretty standard, I guess: sofa, TV, coffee table, bowl of mints. On the floor is a cardboard box with PRIZES written on it. I reach inside and…I’m not sure how many Magic boosters to take. It seems like there’s plenty to go around, but I decide to start slow, re-up if I need to. I take five.

Turns out this was a mistake. None of my teammates takes more than four boosters—some fewer—even though, I’ll repeat, there are plenty to go around. Dirty looks.

I consider putting a booster back, but wouldn’t that be even more cringe? Should I own my greed, my rebellion, my outsider status?

I’m overthinking it. I crack the boosters. My teammates are no doubt focused on their own problems. Even though we won the series, the mood in the clubhouse is grim. Now that the season is over, the hard part begins: card development.

It’s written into our contracts. If you don’t know the business of baseball, now you know: The tickets and television rights are a loss leader. The money is in the trading cards. Baseball would be nothing without its stats.

The Dodgers’ owner, Frank McCourt, bursts into the clubhouse, chomping a cigar.

“That’s a Pokémon,” he says, pointing at my pack’s rare.

It is: a Typhlosion. I’m not sure how to explain this.

“It doesn’t have any attack moves,” I point out, “It just has a special ability.”

“A Poképower.” Freddie Freeman can’t help himself. “That’s the term.”

I cough when Frank exhales a cloud of smoke.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass,” Frank says. “This is a tribal set, and goblins and elves are OLD HAT. I need a new tribe by TOMORROW. A goddamn POKÉMON isn’t going to CUT IT. Do you understand? DO YOU?”

I’ve never read Frank McCourt’s memoir, Angela’s Ashes, but I’ve heard it’s a compassionate and moving portrait of an Irish-American family in the mid-20th century. Based on that, you’d think Frank would be a gentle boss. 

You’d be wrong. He’s a tyrant. Whatever empathy writing requires, it doesn’t seem to translate into one’s style of running the Dodgers—or so I’ve painfully learned. 

“Do you understand,” Frank says, his voice like a cattle brand, “benchwarmer?”

Next thing I know it’s an eyebagged sunrise and the floor has fallen out from the blow and I’m burning rubber on the way to the police station. 

I go straight to my friend’s office—he has a Tom Selleck mustache now; he’s quit being a promoter and taken a job as chief of police. I look at him sadly.

“You used to hate cops,” I tell him. “We used to argue. I’d say more cops, less prison. You’d say, more prison, less cops. What happened, man?”

“I haven’t changed a bit. I’m as good as four pigs. That means if I’m working, that’s three less pigs on the street. Now, why are you here?”

“I want to go undercover and help take down my boss, Frank McCourt.”

“Why?”

“He’s corrupt.”

“Hmm, interesting. We’ll need to fake your death,” my friend says. He sifts through some files on his desk. “Go to the evidence room and wait for me there.”

The evidence room is sparse: a bare bulb, a coffin, a mirror. I get in the coffin and pull the lid closed.

Time passes.

III.

When I get out of the coffin, my friend directs me to look in the mirror. My hair has gone silvery-gray. My cheeks and eyelids droop.

“You’re old,” my friend says. “That’s good. McCourt won’t recognize you. And if he does, he won’t think of you as a threat.”

My friend waits for me outside the room while I change from my uniform into a grey sweater, slacks, and a black leather jacket.

Then my friend beckons me to his office. He has a framed photo on his desk that I don’t remember from before: him, a pink-haired woman, two kids.

He hands me a semi-automatic pistol, which I tuck into my jacket.

“We’re still investigating your allegation of corruption. But in the meantime, you’re going to be McCourt’s underboss—his majordomo.” 

He tells me an address in the warehouse district. Kiké is waiting for me there. He raises an eyebrow in what might be recognition, but he doesn’t tip his hand.

“You’re now one of the most powerful men in North America,” Kiké says in his serpentine whisper, “Did you know that? Please. Please. This way.”

Kiké takes me to a box-like room, barren except for lamp, desk, and chair. He closes the door and motions me to sit. When I do, he puts a sheet of paper on the desk in front of me.

“Should we ice him?” he whispers.

I consider the paper: a grainy, black-and-white mugshot of a man I don’t recognize. 

“I don’t think so,” I say.

Kiké puts the paper in a beige folder, and replaces it with a mugshot of a different man.

“Should we whack him?”

This man is noticeably ugly. Otherwise, there’s nothing on the paper to guide my decision. 

I’m not sure how to make these calls. But I don’t want to admit my ignorance, or appear too soft and risk blowing my cover.

“Yeah, I’m thinking we should whack this guy.”

Kiké nods and leaves the room. I hear a gunshot. He returns and puts a plastic-wrapped peppermint on the table along with another mugshot.

“This man—shall we pop a cap in his ass?”

This goes on for a while. After the twelfth gunshot—eleven mints piled on my desk—Kiké returns, carrying a tall stack of papers in both hands. 

He says: “McCourt is pleased with your work.”

“McCourt,” I say, “When can I meet him?”

Kiké smiles. He drops the stack of papers on my desk.

“Now that you understand the basics, we will switch to a more efficient mode of processing, yes? We will talk when you finish your work.” 

Kiké leaves. Now it’s all names, no pictures. 

1. Shall I steez him…Samuel Tibbs? 

2. Should I rub-a-dub him…Bruno Comber? 

3. Shall I bring unto him…Harold Feibleman?

4. Should he expand indefinite…Roman Milbrath? 

5. Does a new life await for…Albertius Beck?

Can these really all be idioms for murder? I wonder, bubbling in the provided Scantron with the provided number 2 pencil. And just how much power do I have? 

It seems like I’m playing God for hundreds of people. And yet I am a blind God, who cannot judge fairly, or see the effect of his work.

At one point I encounter my own name. The question is: “Shall he be compleat?”

I’m not sure what that means, so I bubble in “No.”

I’m a thousand names deep when the chief of police knocks on the door.

“You’re off the case,” he says. “Pack it up.”

“Off the case!”

“The investigation is over. He’s not that corrupt.”

I stare at him, broken-hearted.

“Go home,” he tells me, gruff, but with an unmistakable note of relief. “Hit some baseballs. Find a nice girl. You don’t need to…”

He gestures at the papers.

“He can’t get away with it,” I tell him.

My friend nods. He was expecting this. He peels off his mustache and lays it on the desk.

“I’ve done what I can.” He grins wryly. “One less pig on the streets, eh?”

My friend leaves.

I bubble the Scantron for another thirty minutes before doubt strangles faith. I hadn’t thought at all about the ethnicities of the names I was judging. What if my choices are publicized and seen as racist? Could this be Kiké’s scheme?

Even God could be so cancelled. I put on the mustache and leave.

It’s a blue, warm, and breezy twilight, and there are only two cars in the parking lot: my Ford Gran Torino and a black limousine. I crouch behind my car. To my surprise, a man in a black hoodie is already crouching there.

“Who are you?” I demand.

My Dad turns. “My name is unimportant. I’m here to kill McCourt.”

I have no patience for this. “Murder is wrong.”

“Your mother…”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“My point is, is it still wrong if it’s McCourt?”

“Yes. Yes! But I’m not here to argue philosophy. You have neither the aim nor the conviction needed for this task. You need to leave! Leave! Let me do the wrong thing!”

My Dad looks hurt. That’s fine. He’ll forget. I give him a peppermint and he slinks away.

The sky has gone from blue to black when the warehouse doors open and McCourt appears. 

He’s puffing a cigar and holding court with Mookie, Freddie, and Kiké. Obsequiously they smile at his jokes, as if any reward is worth submission. I decide that I want him to see me before he dies. 

“Frank,” I say, stepping from behind my car. 

McCourt pales. “Malachy!”

I raise my pistol and shoot. Freddie and Mookie scatter. But Kiké jumps in front of the bullet. I can’t believe my eyes. Something—guilt, I suppose—drops the bottom out of my stomach. 

Poor Kiké! He really believed!

McCourt takes a revolver from Kiké’s pocket and shoots me six times in the chest.

I slump against the Ford. I should be dead. McCourt thinks I am.

He walks towards his limo.

But he doesn’t realize that my black leather jacket is filled with densely packed Magic cards, offering protection not unlike Kevlar. 

A seam must have been injured, because they flow torrentially from the bottom of my jacket and into the parking lot—some of them punctured, bloody.

One of them hits McCourt’s shoe. He turns and sees me holding a gun on him. My hands don’t shake.

“There’s no point punishing someone just because you’re old,” he says. 

I say nothing.

“You can’t eat statistics. Someone should have taught you that. And if they didn’t well, I’m sorry, but I don’t give a RAT’S—”

I shoot him in the head.

I can hear police sirens. My friend must have left a few cops nearby. My lips make a horrible, life-denying sneer.

I put the gun in my mouth and pull the trigger.

Click.

But nothing happens. It’s out of bullets.

The cards are still pouring from my jacket. I pick up one of them. It’s a baseball card for a player with no name. It just says his position: The Pinch Hitter.

The sirens are getting louder, but I make no attempt to escape. 

Slumped against the car, I wait for the law to arrive.

[cloveroctobers]

SILENCE — ANGEL REYES x OC x CANE TEJADA | Part ii.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m actually doing a part two since I never do those because they don’t ever preform as well as the first but after that (terrible) finale I couldn’t resist. Thanks for the support on the first one, hopefully this will bring some sense of more life for Angel. if this is my last piece for him then why not also go out with a little something? He’s the last man standing apparently so here’s a send off on my part.

WARNINGS: language, hints of coping mechanisms? Or Mental illness Therapy is mentioned, I’ve also been binge-watching 9-1-1 from the beginning, I’m currently on season 4 I think! which is why Eddie’s character is mentioned but he doesn’t make a appearance so please skip over this if you’re feeling some type of way about that and are looking for a eddie based fic. I will be writing something for him soon btw. There’s also a little surprise towards the end for certain lovers who might read this.

*GIF and photos DO NOT BELONG TO ME!

Read part one here. + using this prompt and number 21. Timing

*ੈ ╭──╯ . . . *ੈ ╭──╯ . . . *ੈ ╭──╯ . . . *

Solay’s half asleep, the soft horns sounding from the NBA game Cane’s got his hands on was actually comforting and it often reminded her of nights when her and her sister would fall asleep on the couch together while their father watched the game. It was late, once watching the clock going from midnight to 2 am, she was once wired, greasing cane’s hair and brushing his waves before securing the doo-rag around his head.

It was a typical night, their version of normal until harsh knocks sounded at the door, breaking Solay out of her slumber. Her eyes felt heavy but she was alert and so was Cane as he paused the game, picking up on the knocks that appeared at the door some more. He tossed the controller onto the coffee table, moving slowly as he reaches underneath the cushion of the couch Solay was lounging on.

His low-lidded eyes briefly met her’s as he brings a single finger up to his lips after taking the safety off. Cane’s on his feet now while Solay shortly follows after, reaching over to turn off the side lamp and ready to head to the back of the home to check on her son, Xavier.

Cane wasn’t sure who it could be, he knew it couldn’t be any of his people considering the situation back home but he figured it could be Tariq’s bitch ass, you just never know with him. He’s against the door now, peeking around but all he could see was a shadow of someone.

Yanking the door back to fly against the wall, he’s quick with his grip as he aims the gun right at Angel Reyes who hold’s out a arm while he cradles his son.

“Fuck you want?” Cane asks.

Angel looks down but it’s not like Cane cares, although it seems he lowers the gun just a bit, for the baby’s sake.

“I need to talk to soso.”

“Nig—, you know what time it is? Knocking on the damn door like you the feds or some shit? What makes you think it’s okay to show up here unannounced at this time of the night?” Cane’s tone is clipped.

Angel shifts Maverick in his arms as he says, “that’s a conversation I need to have with Solay, not you.”

“Last time I checked, she ain’t with your ass no more and I’m the man of this house so you want to run that by me again?”

A house Angel was damn sure Cane didn’t put a penny down to help with the mortgage.

The darkness underneath Angel’s eyes was deafening but the twitch of his brows was evident that he had no intentions of backing down. He still felt a way about Cane showing up to his house and Angel thought he could do the same. If this was his house but Angel couldn’t see himself in the big apple.

It was only right in his eyes.

Before he can send a rebuttal at the shorter brown skinned man, Solay appears from behind Cane, who lets out a sigh before sucking his teeth.

“Enrique Iglesias is here,” Cane informs Solay who pulls her robe tighter around her body.

She hasn’t seen Angel since the funeral for Felipe. Understandably so, he needed time to grieve but she figured he was doing it alone due to the decline of Ezekiel’s relationship with the man and that couldn’t be healthy. And it wasn’t like Solay saw Angel much before that either, he showed up to the second therapy session but it was clear that his mind was somewhere else. Which wasn’t unusual when it came to his precious club but Solay didn’t pry since it seemed like Angel was always on the go or lost in his thoughts. It’s not like she didn’t care but he was the one who encouraged her there to these sessions but her gut also told her that it would always be only a matter of time.

Until he moved on to something else.

Timing was never something Angel managed well. If shit came at him, he was usually thrown for a loop depending on what it was and never had guidelines for plans or anything like that. He was more take things as they were tossed at him type of person but ever since EZ got into that president’s chair and Angel got the chance to raise Maverick, he was also changing.

“Angel…” solay started as she took in his appearance, she could tell that something was wrong, “what’s going on?”

Angel swallowed the lump in his throat and if Cane wasn’t in the room right now, he probably would have collapsed into Solay’s arms. She could see that, she could sense that. It was in his eyes, that he was hurting and sure way back when that might have gave Solay the tiniest bit of satisfaction but that’s not where they were now.

She was annoyed he stopped showing up to the sessions but brushed it off after awhile, saying that she “knew it,” up until Felipe was gunned down in Angel’s childhood home. There was always something going on with Angel and although they were trying to work on their relationship, Solay knew she couldn’t be selfish.

She didn’t have the heart to be.

Solay waved Angel in, despite the incredulous look Cane shot her way. She’s locking the door behind him and rests her hand on Angel’s lower back, which surprisingly makes him flinch as she does.

A brow raises at that but Solay says, “come into the living room.”

“Yeah okay…where’s Xavy?”

“Sleeping like yo ass should be.” Cane mutters, while Solay sends him a sharp look.

He places the lock back on the gun and puts it into the waist band of his basketball shorts, clasping his hands in front of him as he eyes Solay being so gentle with a dude that didn’t deserve it. Cane was heavy on that, “fuck the fact that he’s your baby’s father, after everything he put you through? Why are you still concerned when you knew he was gonna pull that shit? He doesn’t care about you like I do and I’m not even sure he gives that much of a fuck about Xavier.”

This was said after Angel stopped showing up to the sessions and Solay didn’t want to hear it. It didn’t feel like cane’s place—although she vented to him and he did the shit-talking to mainly make her feel better—and it also wasn’t angel’s place to feel a way about her seeing someone else.

Solay inhales as she sits on the coffee table, crossing one leg over the other as she takes in her ex-husband. He’s barely blinking as he stares off in space and Solay isn’t sure what to do about this.

“Talk to me,” she says bringing Angel’s dark eyes to meet her doe ones, “what happened?”

Angel places his lips against a sleeping Maverick’s temple that he cradles and then blows out a breath, “where do I start? Luisa’s gone, just buried my pops, now EZ’s dead—which I—I played a part in, I’m out the club and now I need you and Xavier to come with me to Arizona.”

Cane is laughing it up now while Solay is almost at a lost for words. She wasn’t surprised about Luisa but it would probably explain why Angel was checked out and why he moved in with Felipe. They haven’t really talked like they used to be able to do so hearing all of this—about what was going on in Angel’s world was a lot to process.

It always was.

“What do you mean…EZ’s dead?” Solay croaked out, shifting as she held out a hand to silence the man behind them.

Angel rubs at his exhausted face now, “The club found out…now it’s over. I buried him myself out on the road and I wish I never encouraged him to be in this shit you know? Maybe he’d still be here being a smart ass. My brother’s gone and I don’t got nothing left. This dried blood on my hands…it’s not worth it no more. Which is why I need you and Xavy to come with me before the feds come because I know they will. It’s only a matter of time.”

Solay searched Angel’s eyes and they held sincerity. It was all finally coming full circle now, what she’s been telling him for years…that the club’s brotherhood wouldn’t end well. Not when there was so much dirt, blood, lack of values, and deceit behind it. She had no issue speaking her peace on the club way back when (she also felt a way when she learned that EZ was getting involved fresh out of being locked up but angel didn’t want to hear that shit either) and sure she got along with some of the men there but it’s not like she was ever clueless to what it was. Solay was tired of constantly looking over her shoulder when it came to Angel’s club and that feeling never went away, even when she gave birth to their son and even when they were officially divorced. Everything was crumbling down around Angel and he was trying to get out for good.

“You want me to just pick everything up and follow you to Arizona?”

Angel dips his head, “yeah, it’ll be different this time. And I’m not saying let’s go off and get remarried or nothing like that but we could be something real. A family again.”

“Yeah a real fucked up one,” Cane comments, making Angel realize that he was in fact still in the room with them, “so let’s get this straight? Your daddy’s gone, that bitch you cheated with up and left your ass—which probably means she’s six feet under too—yeah I know exactly what she’s really into and it’s clear you’re too dumb to figure that out still, and now for a club to kill one of their own…it’s evident that your brother was some sort of snitch who got what was comin’ to him. But the ultimate disrespect is you coming back up in here with your tail in between your legs, thinking you can just take back what you lost long ago.”

“Listen man, you watch your damn mouth when it comes to my blood.” Angel points a warning finger at the man who chuckles; not the least bit threatened, “this is much bigger than your fucken ego. I’m looking out for Solay and our son, this don’t got shit to do with you. Never has. You can leave and go back to your own crooked shit in New York and leave Solay and my son out of it.”

Now isn’t that the coffee calling the kettle black?

Cane furrowed his brows, “Now you wanna win the father of the year award? You ain’t never been shit as far as I can tell and you’re never gonna be shit. Solay’s not going nowhere with you, she’s good on that.”

Solay got to her feet now as Angel glared at Cane who was all smirks, knowing he could get underneath the vulnerable older man’s skin so easily, “I’m going to need the both of you stop speaking for me.”

Both men kept their heated stares on each other but Cane couldn’t take Angel seriously with a child in his arms. The silence was weighing down the living room as Solay began to pace the floor. She didn’t know all of the details and didn’t think she would with Cane in the room. There was truth in his words when it came to the club—this Solay knew, although she was always on the outside when it came to anything revolving around the Mayans.

“Cane…I need a minute.”

“Aight, let’s go.” Cane was ready to lead the way back to the bedroom with a nod of his head in the direction of the room but a shake of Solay’s head had him confused.

Solay met Cane’s hooded eyes, “with Angel, alone.”

“I know you’re not considering leaving with this clown, So.”

Angel shrugged his shoulders, “It shouldn’t matter to you no way, the only reason you still stuck around is to get some product right? Now that that’s gone—you don’t need me or Solay. So maybe you should start saying your goodbyes now.”

Which provoked cane to whip out the gun again, until Solay reached for his wrist, making cane glance at her, ready to shove her hand off but he moved his stare back to Angel who had a sly smirk on the corner of his own lips.

“You act like you’re the only one I can do business with.” Cane tightened his stare, “Heroin ain’t really my lane but I thought why not since I’m here? You fucked that up like you constantly do and there you go again assuming shit about my relationship with Solay and you don’t know the first thing about it.”

Angel lifted his shoulders, “I know you ain’t no better than me and you don’t really care about Solay as much as you claim you do. It’s all a game but the difference is I’m always gonna be around, you on the other hand are disposable and I’mma always have my son’s best interest at heart. Solay’s the bonus.”

Cane rolled his eyes, “Let me find you a gold sticker for your forehead—

“ENOUGH!” Solay screams at the both of them, carefully peaking over at the sleeping baby afterwards,“this back and forth is getting on my nerves. Let me think in peace for a little bit, just go Cane.”

She orders.

Cane kisses his teeth and walked off, knowing that it was best before he might actually let some bullets fly.

Solay massaged the space in between her thin brows as her mind began spinning. She thought about all the bad the club brought to her front door and she was just leveling up without it.

So it seemed.

Now here Angel, a man she used to be in love with, a troubled man she wanted to spend forever with once upon a time, the man she shared a child with, was here telling her he was out. Out of the club, something she wanted for years for him because she knew that club wasn’t his purpose. He didn’t see it then but he saw it now. Solay’s faced a lot when it came to the club, with Angel’s disappearing for days at a time making her believe one of those days he wouldn’t come home to her, quality time being cancelled so he could be more dedicated to that club instead, cleaning up his wounds due to all sorts of danger he was involved in, he fucked those bartending bitches behind her back while some of those men smiled in her face knowing his dirt, to having a false sense of protection that led to being tied up, beat on so bad and left alone in a burning building years ago—which she just finished paying off a hospital bill for.

All of those instances let Solay know that The Mayans weren’t some saints by any means but Solay knew Angel loved that brotherhood once upon a time. He was slowly changing and morphing into something else—maybe something better—over these last couple of years but Solay figured that’s what happens when on-going lost comes your way. Gives you a bit of a wake up call and proud wasnt the word she would ever use (everyone that he lost still mattered to her as well) but it was about damn time.

It’s just unfournate how it all played out and there was so much to weigh out here. Solay knew she and Xavier would probably be harassed despite Angel being officially out of the Mayans. The war doesn’t just end and given what state Angel was in—numb yet determined, sitting in her living room clenching onto Maverick, Solay knew this war would just brew many more.

She would be affiliated no matter what and so would their son and so would Mavy—if not more thanks to who his mother is or was. This would always be Angel’s doing and she wasn’t blaming him, that wouldn’t get her anywhere she realized but it was a fact. She was with Angel right when the club was just an idea, a one night stand which later turned serious not long after he got patched in, back when he and Coco just moved into the Azure apartment complexes. The Mayans ripped through Angel, that much she could tell and many in her position would jump at the chance to shout at him, “I told your ass!”

Except Solay closed her eyes and took a deep inhale, rolling the tension out of her shoulders before she met Angel’s stare.

“Tell me all of it but take it easy when it comes to…Ezekiel.” She tells Angel, feeling a twing in her own chest at the thought of the brother she couldn’t save.

Angel held his ex-wife’s stare and inhaled a shaky breath, “…alright.”

Life in the desert was not something Solay thought she would ever be part of. She immediately thought of dry skin 24/7 when she had combo skin. Yes there were deserts back home but at least there was a downtown area that wasn’t far from her home. This transition was certainly just that. She’s in the kitchen in a daze, the southwest home is quiet in her mind as she’s drying the last dish. Her eyes are set on the two square windows by the dining table off to the side of the strangely shaped kitchen, back pressed into the kitchen sink.

It’s a early Monday afternoon, September just hit the calendar and she’s lost track of time. A hand catches her off guard as they tug on the belt hoops of her Jean skirt, making her gaze turn down to her seven year old who’s peering up at her with her mirrored doe-shaped eyes and his father’s nose.

“We’re back from the pool, mommy!” Xavier signs as Solay smiles sweetly at him, hand going around his shoulders to squeeze him to her hips.

She didn’t even pick up on him entering the sliding doors by the dining room, her mind elsewhere.

Labor Day came around much quicker than expected and they had their little celebration that Sunday but Xavier seemed to love the water and couldn’t get enough. Which means Angel was on duty for taking him and Maverick to the pool out back while Solay did a few minor things for work online and cleaned up the lunch angel ordered.

Solay signs, “Did you have fun?”

“Always!” Xavier laughs with a nod of his head.

“Good, let’s get you cleaned up.”

The boy groans as Solay gives him a stern look while he spins on his damp heels before stomping out the kitchen and headed towards his room.

Solay lightly laughs with a shake of her head.

“Xavy pouting about clean up time again?”

“Yeah the usual,” solay shrugs as the man makes his way over to her while she reaches to brush a wet strand of a two year old Maverick’s hair back, “everything go alright out there?”

Angel bends to put Maverick on his feet, the little man taking off on his chubby feet to find his big brother, “yeah, why wouldn’t it be? It’s hot as shit out there though. Isn’t autumn supposed to be here by now?”

“We just touched September,” Solay states kind of ignoring the question he asked back, “and you’re the one who picked Arizona, not me.”

Angel lifts his chin, “you could have talked me out of it though.”

“You don’t listen to nobody but your own big ass head.”

Angel shrugged as he leaned his elbows back on the dark wooded island that was rolled and locked in place on a angle in the kitchen, “seriously though, I’ve seen you in here looking like you’re off in space and shit. You sure you’re alright?”

Ever since Solay made the decision to be here with Angel, Maverick, and Xavier, Angel always made it his task to question how she was holding up. Like it was devastating or like she had regrets being here but that’s not truly how she felt. She wasn’t sure how she felt, Solay couldn’t really explain it. She just knows she feels something unsettling often. After Angel told her the truth back in her old stucco home in Santo Padre, she knew getting the hell out of dodge was also the best option.

They weren’t together but they found a new therapist and communicated much better. Angel worked two jobs, first considering a semi-truck driving job but declined once he knew how much hours he would have to put in and how long he would be away from his family. He was persistent on turning over a new leaf. Of course he still had scraps of his own money and Luisa’s blood money but he promised Solay that he wouldn’t use that money when it came to renting their home. He could do whatever he wanted with it but not when it came to their new home or Xavier. So he worked as a custodian at a middle school full-time and a delivery driver on Friday and most Saturday nights.

Solay signed over the building to her second in command at her shop to continue running her business in Santo Padre and if she wished to turn it into her own, she could. Solay was expecting and waiting for the day that would happen. Her main focus was running her e-commerce shop for her beauty line which continued to be successful and having her products distributed in over seven spas in the major cities of Arizona. She was still doing well and adapted to the new setting although her family was very vocal on this big leap.

Her dad still wasn’t vibing with Angel like that after all these years and knew from the jump that he continued to get his daughter into some mess. It really wasn’t like that but a father always knows and he had no problem booking flights with his ex wife, Solay’s mother to vacation in this hot ass desert right at their house. Her big sister on the other hand? She made it routine to talk to Solay and her nephew, Xavier almost every day.

In a way having Solay’s family around a few times out of the year kinda made him forget missing his own. Almost. Even when he was got in disagreements with Solay’s opinionated father. He could laugh about it once he dropped them off at the airport and brush off the touch of overbearingness because that’s just how Solay’s family was.

He was still down to go to the end of the earth with her as he eyed her in a new light now. Part of him expected Solay to just kick him out that night and keep him away from Xavier. Instead he gave her the littlest bit of time to decide, on his terms and even though everything seemed to be moving rapidly to him, he understood that Solay didn’t operate like that. Things could be drippy when this type of news was delivered and felt overwhelming. She had to sit with all the information Angel gave her, then analyze it all and take Xavier into account before moving forward.

Maybe this was just what they needed, a change of scenery, away from the Mayans and what that town brought into their lives. It wasn’t perfect by any means but life was much more slow-paced now. Initially this is what Solay wanted, a soft girl era but there was always this haunting feeling that shifted from her chest down to her gut.

“Do I?” She asked, snapping out of it.

Angel started tossing a plum up into the air, “don’t know if you notice but you just did it again. Felt like twelve hours later that you answered me.”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you mean it though?”

“What?”

“You’d tell me if something is wrong right? If you don’t want to do this anymore—

“Shush. It’s not ideal but it works for now.”

Angel dipped his head at this. He was very much aware that Solay could run off into the night if she truly wanted to but she was also invested in beating the odds. She wanted a stable home for their son. It made sense to Angel and knew it didn’t to anybody else and sure it was rocky at first with Xavier having trouble adjusting to the new environment—which kicked mama bear Solay in play, who had no issue telling administrators to be more accommodating to those with special needs (there was a serious lack of specific hearing impaired schools in small towns like this and santo padre but at least back home there was one educator that was also an interpreter) —Angel had to hide the chairs let’s just say that and Angel also had no issue telling the kid that picked on Xavy that he’d “fuck him up,” which the kid repeated but his own parents didn’t believe that surprisingly.

Probably because the wife and her husband had their eyes on angel. Solay was completely convinced that they were swingers but Angel laughed it off until his ass got squeezed by one of them at a third meeting.

“Alright then…wanna talk about that date with the firefighter?”

Solay scowled, “it wasn’t a date.”

“You went to a cooking class together this time around and a escape room before that, which he had a advantage to considering his job by the way. I’d say it’s a date, why are you being so weird about it?” Angel’s tossing the fruit up in the air but frowning over at the woman.

Solay scratches at her scalp above her scarf in irritation before moving to leave the kitchen and entered the living room that’s right next to it, “i’m not being weird about it. I just don’t think I need to talk to you about it.”

“Why not? I’m not feelin’ no type of way about it if that’s what you’re thinking. are we not besties now?” Angel followed after Solay who flicked the reruns of a talk-show off.

Solay scoffed as she looked over at angel in disbelief, “we’re roomies at best.”

“Exactly, besties.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“I think it would help Edgar sleep better at night if you just admit yall are going on dates.” Angel teased as he leaned towards Solay who gave him the hand on her way by.

“That’s not even his name!”

Angel called out to her, “I know it starts with an E though. I gotta be close.”

“Eddie.” Solay told him, “Short for Edmundo and that’s all I’m gonna say about him to you.”

“Edmundo? Awl shit, you got a type!”

“Shut the hell—I’m gonna tend to the kids.”

“Yeah uh huh, you can get away from this conversation now but I’ll just ease drop some more when you’re gossiping about ‘im when you’re on the phone with big sis.” Angel commented as Solay rolled her eyes and made her exit.

If you asked solay she would say Angel’s the one being weird about this. It’s been two years since they left and Angel was keen on seeing solay get back out there and find her perfect match or whatever. He seemed to be more for it than Solay herself. She wasn’t really searching when Eddie came along in a bar (with a few others) she was having dinner solo in and she definitely brought it up to their therapist, who said it was Angel’s way of trying to make up for the unhappiness he brought her.

Still that was more weird than them living in a house together raising their sons in Solay’s eyes. A more normal reaction would be Angel grilling the casual dates Solay went on but now he was ready to hear how it was going and when he would meet them. Solay’s only been on two dates with Eddie and he was a complete gentleman, had a excellent job, a bit dorky and nervous? which gave Solay the indication that he did like her a little bit when he stumbled over his words asking her out for the first time but knew how to keep a conversation going, it was easy flowing. Almost too easy and Solay wasn’t used to easy.

At all.

She’s helping an annoyed Xavier with a Luke-temp bath, putting her thoughts on mute after hearing Angel tend to Maverick in Xavier’s room, coming up with all sorts of sound effects as if they were pilots (she thinks) since Maverick seemed to enjoy airplanes.

“Mom,” Xavier gets Solay’s attention again, sticking his finger into her nostril.

She flinched back making the boy laugh in her expense while she shook her head at him with a disapproving smile. He’s pointing behind her at the counter and Solay turns as she sits on the closed lid, reaching for her vibrating phone, which shows its her old employee calling her.

“Hey Idil, I know you’re not working on the holiday?” Solay greets after putting the call on speaker.

There’s loud shuffling on the line, which makes solay furrow her brows a bit as she turns back to the phone, “Idil?”

“Sup, so. You miss me?”

Solay pauses as she picks up on the familiar voice, “…Cane…what’re you doing?”

“Business. That’s all I’m good for right?”

Things didn’t end the best with Cane as to be expected when Solay told him what she planned on doing. Which included putting the house on the market, packing up half of her things, having some of it shipped out, leaving a small portion to sell with the house, discussing the way her business would be ran in Idil’s hands abruptly, and most importantly leaving Cane behind. She learned all about him showing up to Angel’s house with his little brother Dru, threatening him to stay away from Solay and to see how they can get in on Ez’s supply of heroin to move a percentage of the product in New York. Cane heard about the new president from word of mouth on the streets but he was the first to actually take the trip and do something about it.

Solay came into sight and he got a little distracted but when cane learned her background, he was close enough to get that connect but he also found fun in getting on Angel’s nerves. Which left Solay to question if any of it was real, she was tired of men taking for her weak when she opened up her heart to them which is why she was a little emotionally cut off—so she thought but she was always passionate or sensitive—depends who you ask.

“What do you want?”

Cane huffed, “how you know I ain’t just supporting a black owned business? What if I want to keep my skin looking like a Hershey’s kiss?”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Yeah but you had enough time to fuck off with Antonio banderas and kick me to the curb though.”

“You sound pressed.”

“Nah, I handle shit.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Solay’s eyes were in slits now, “you know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t want anything else to do with your bullshit.”

“Why not? We had a good time together don’t you think?”

“I’d Rather not reminisce about the past.”

“See, I find that hard to believe. You in that clay box ass house with a nobody raising his kids, one of those kids that’s a product of him not being loyal to you. Not loving you. Like you ain’t shit to him, he treated you like you were temporary. Which is something I would have never done to you but you’re too blinded by him for whatever reason. Sounds like you ran right back to the past because you’re scared of something real.”

Solay cackles as Cane voices his thoughts to her, like he just read her. “Scared, maybe? Real? That’s unlikely with you. You didn’t step into what we had as a forever type of thing, it was all lies on your part too. All the red flags were right in front of my face and I don’t know how you don’t get that you’re no better, Cane. I know one things for sure, I wasn’t ever afraid to lose you, so stay the fuck off my line.”

With that she ended the call and only imagined he was probably screwing somebody in the shop now if he wasn’t running product through it. Idil couldn’t be that fooled or backstabbing right? She knew how cane operated and it’s been silent for two years now, not hearing from him and her accepting that most of it was probably not genuine was just Cane trying to get ahead.

Solay was over these men trying to get the best of her when she felt like didn’t deserve this. She was knocked off her path moving to Arizona but perhaps this was part of her healing. At least that’s one way she tried to look at it, putting boundaries up and vowing that she didn’t see being in a romantic relationship again with Angel Reyes. What she saw was: she needed to move on from all the hurt, find happiness behind the success and continue being a good mom to Xavier.

Solay was done with the drama.

“Soso, everything good?” Angel called from behind the door.

Solay had her eyes trained on Xavier, her hand resting on his coarse damp hair. She calls back out to Angel, “yup, all good. Hey, what do you think about taking the RV out for a ride a little later? Go sight seeing.”

“Fucken finally!” Angel cheered from behind the door while a small smile appeared on her lips, “I’m driving though.”

That’s right, Angel made the purchase of a RV for the hell of it last summer while Solay looked at it as a possible exit plan. Did Angel know that? No but she planned on telling him at some point. Did she need to jump ship just yet now that it’s been brought to her attention that cane was still keeping tabs on her? Maybe so but for now she just wanted to enjoy this holiday.

She’s on autopilot as she’s getting Xavier dressed into some lounge clothes that would be suitable for their outing later. After finishing twirling his coils, she sends him off to run to where Maverick and Angel are horsing around—easily joining in on their fun. Solay stands in the doorway, arms lightly folded as she watches them bond with each other, like a family should.

This time it felt like it was time to stop catering to everyone else’s needs always first yet that could be dangerous if you didn’t have balance but Solay was ready for something more. No one was going to get in the way of that, she vowed. She deserved to have genuine joy that didn’t end with her crying herself to sleep at night. That didn’t mean to find that in someone else because you’ll be dependent on that person always and that’s not something she wanted to do anymore, be dependent on anyone else for love, this she learned in therapy but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the company of a certain firefighter if she got out of her own way.

She should text Eddie back.

A lot can happen in two years and her attitude shifted being in the same space as Angel again. It wasn’t necessarily intentional in the beginning it’s just that it was always something with him. Now it didn’t feel like she was simply tolerating him anymore, no it wasn’t all sparkles and sunshine either in this present time but the bad moods stopped being constant. Solay’s mind was always on the move and being someplace else away from her main family, gave her the chance to really sit with her emotions and that brought up a lot some days.

She had to learn that her life wasn’t some play in a dream land or that she was out in the audience watching, like this was euphoria or anything along those lines.

This was actually her life and as she watched a tatted shirtless Angel settle into his newfound life with his boys, warm smiles and head thrown back while he silently laughed as he interacted with both boys in harmony, Solay let a smile of her own split onto her face.

It’s after 3PM when the family of four make their way out into the Arizonan heat that’s good at sending people to do a quick face plant. Solay’s checked the weather every hour before they deemed that now was a good time to go out, the temperature only went down four degrees which absolutely didn’t feel like much as she held Maverick’s little hand and Angel led the way while Xavier ran from his side and up ahead.

Forgetting something in the house, she tells Angel as he’s standing at the dining table inside the cool RV while the boys sit side by side.

“C’mon so!” Angel groaned, “We’re just going on a thirty minute drive and coming straight back, you tryin’ to take the whole house?”

Solay raises a finger in the air as she’s going down the steps, “better to be prepared than not to be if we get stranded.”

“Don’t put that kinda energy out there, cariño.”

“I’m just saying.”

“You’re starting to sound like your mother.”

“Run that by me again?”

“Nothing. Go head.” Angel fanned his ring covered hand at the arched brow Solay sent his way.

He then snickered down at the boys who watched their interaction as he spoke and signed, “Joking,” to Xavier and Maverick.

The heat blew across her skin as she peered down at her phone, house keys swinging on her finger until she stopped in her tracks, looking up and over at the two young figures standing before her.

“You must be Tariq and…”

“Oh, I’m Brayden!” The blond boy on his right beamed with a hand pressed to his chest in greeting, making the taller of the two cut his eyes at him.

Brayden shrugged innocently at the look Tariq sent him while Solay let out a sigh and placed her phone into the back pocket of her Jean skirt.

“You don’t seem surprised to see us.” Tariq noted while Solay held out her hands.

“Not really, when you get older it’s always something. So…what’s the plan here boys?” Solay moved her hand to press against her forehead, blocking out the scorching sunrays.

The two share a look with each other while Solay awaited for them to spit it out. They were here for a reason and Solay was open to hearing them out since they came all this way after all but it’s not like she wanted to be wrapped up in their bullshit either.

They just met and she really owed them nothing.

“Do you know a Don? Don Carter.” Tariq starts and he picks up on the expression on Solay’s face.

She doesn’t say anything but Tariq picked up the expression on her face much faster than Brayden could register it.

“He’s this detective who’s wife got killed years ago and he was never able to solve the case. We have proof that shows Cane pulled the trigger that killed her and we need your help to get him out the way or else our asses are done for.” Brayden added.

Solay answered, “Detective Don Carter is my cousin.”

“I knew it.” Tariq smiled as if this solved his problem, “if we hand him the truth and you lure Cane back here, we can either take him out or Don can do whatever he needs to: throw his ass in jail or take him out himself. Whoever gets to him first besides you.”

Brayden brushed off his shoulders before the teens gave each other dap, “Yeah, team work baby!”

Solay shushed them, making the smiles wipe right off their faces, “what makes you think I want to be involved with Cane again? I’ve moved on, whatever else he’s got going on doesn’t have a thing to do with me if you haven’t noticed.”

“That’s not true though,” Tariq frowned, “you know he’s obsessed with you more than he’s on my shit and that’s saying a lot. He’s gonna disrupt whatever you got going on until he wins.”

‘What exactly does he think he’s going to win?’ Solay thought to herself as she tilts her head to the side at the teen’s words, Tariq would know that side of Cane since that’s not the side she got to see but he did fool her before.

“So the plan is: you want me to trap him for your sake? Which again, doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“Yours too. He did you dirty, right? Aren’t you sick of him because I sure am.” Brayden asks, making Solay cross her arms.

“That’s my cousin’s business not mine.” Solay almost sasses, “I’m on a clean slate this time, I’m just trying to be a mother and be a legal business owner, no more dealing with men that have bad shit attached to them. take that shit to Don and leave me out of it. I heard he moved out to New york.”

“Well…” Brayden sucks air between his teeth with a wince.

Tariq states, “we can’t go back to the city just yet.”

“Why not?”

“Cane’s stupid ass, the rest of the tejada’s, and Effie set me up that’s why!” Tariq was heated, rightfully so.

“I tried to take him out but I guess that wasn’t enough to be fatal,” Brayden is apologetic but Tariq just dips his head in thanks, a silent understanding passing between the two boys.

“Wait…you shot Cane? He just called—nope.” Solay begins walking by the boys, done with the conversation while shuffling her keys as she heads back to the house, kicking up dirt while she went.

The boys were pleading as they followed after the older woman but she was not trying to hear anymore.

“Hey!” Angel called out to the trio, making both Tariq and Brayden whip around to face the mustache wearing man who stood on the steps of the RV, shotgun aimed right in their direction.

“Shit, shit! Don’t shoot us man, we really come in peace!”

“Shut up, Brayden.”

“Angel,” Solay calls from the path of the doorway and gives him a shake of her head to tell him not to pull that trigger.

Solay takes her eyes off Angel and says to the boys, “wait here, preferably away from my ex-husband’s eyesight.”

“No problem! You got it!” Brayden disappears, hiding behind the southwest exterior while Tariq holds Angel’s stare who turns them into slits, “what’re you doing, riq? Didn’t you say he’s in a motorcycle club? those motherfuckers get rowdy.”

“Nah, he was. Then he disappeared. He might be our answer too.”

The door slams shut behind them, making the teens turn back to Solay who’s locking up the home while carrying what appears to be a trinket box. She meets their stare as she steps down onto the dirt and nods her head, “follow me.”

“Not if you’re gonna have that guy kill us!”

“Nobody’s dying,” Solay says over her shoulder as she leads the way back to Angel, “my kids are inside the RV.”

Brayden let’s out a whistle of relief as Solay steps up to Angel, reaching up to lower the gun down, her eyes saying something which gets him to put the safety on lock.

“This is Tariq and Brayden,” Solay let’s Angel know as they make their way into the RV, making the man let out a groan of annoyance.

“Our kids are here and it’s a holiday, why are you two pulling up now?”

Tariq presses his elbows into his knees after taking a seat on the couch parallel to where the two kids sit, “To get rid of your remaining problem: Cane Tejada.”

“Oh…the fucken bed bug.” Angel rubs at his face in irritation while Brayden snorts at the insult.

Solay cut her eyes at him, motioning to their kids, leaving the man to hold his hands up in surrender and then sticks his tongue out at Maverick who looks his way. Solay places the headphones onto the toddler’s ears and gently rubs Xavier’s shoulders, although he’s too involved in his tablet to care about the new guests.

Tariq and Brayden give the same rundown they just gave Solay and Angel listens carefully. He rubs at his face in thought over this, on one instance this could go in their favor but on the other hand it could also go very wrong. It became knowledge to Angel that Cane was still keeping tabs on them and that didn’t sit right with him. This means they never knew what he would do or when he would do it, he was always unpredictable like that and the last thing Angel wanted was Cane messing up what he and Solay came so far to have together.

This was the first time Angel got to really start over and he knew from the beginning that Cane was not the one for Solay. Standing here now just proves that.

“We know a guy that can probably help you guys more than we can,” Angel says after a moment, his eyes meeting Solay’s as she nods her head also thinking the same thing.

Solay doesn’t say more as Angel moves to the driver seat, leaving her to tap and motion for Xavier to slide over before she reaches over to hold Maverick in the safety of her arms.

Brayden’s more antsy than Tariq is, who seems to have this calm but cautious demeanor analyzing everything around them just in case they needed to flee from the RV. His guard was secretly up but he did his research, he found out what Cane’s plan was coming out to California but wouldn’t realize how this would backfire on him.

Tariq didn’t care to know the full details on Cane’s fraudulent relationship with the braided woman but he could see the appeal in Solay. With the way she moved on her own, with Angel and interacted with the kids, there was power in her soothing aura. Tariq could tell that she was over it though and that she’s also been through some shit but if she wanted to fully dead the situation, she would even if that meant she didn’t have to get her hands dirty herself.

The drive from the desert into the Mountain View and ramps was not what Tariq was really used to on a daily but the ride was long enough. Angel’s soon pulling up on the side of the road before shutting the engine off.

“We’re here,” Angel says through the rear view mirror before unbuckling his seatbelt.

Solay looks in his direction before turning to the two boys, “before you ask, there’s a pay phone up ahead and you’re going to take this number and let him know that Majesty and Sunny sent you.”

Tariq takes the slip of paper from Solay who rocks Maverick on her lap, “How do we know you’re not setting us up?”

“You don’t.” Angel calls out while Solay blinks.

She shrugs, “that’s not the life we live anymore but if it’s to get the bad off our backs…hopefully this will be worth it.”

“Are you sure this guy will help us?”

“His ass is always into something despite the fact that he should be dead with the rest but I know he’s been itching to get into it. To get his hands on something again…he’s a dumbass just like you two.” Angel fills the two in while they share a look, unsure but knew they didn’t have much else to lose.

They didn’t have many on their side right now.

Solay chipped in as she rests her chin on top of Mavy’s dark hair, “And just like you used to be.”

“That’s before I became a dad.”

Solay hummed in disbelief.

“Alright before i became a better one!”

Tariq got to his feet now while the pair smiled at each other from across the vehicle, “aight thanks for looking out.”

“Sure…but promise me this will be the last time we see you.”

Brayden glanced at Tariq who stood by the stairs, “as long as this guy comes through.”

Solay tunes that response out.

“Uh wait, how do we know it’s him?” Brayden asks as Tariq heads towards the door but also pauses on the last step.

“…he goes by Guero.” Angel says as Tariq repeats the name with a nod of his head before pushing the door open.

Once both boys are off the RV and shut the door closed, Angel starts the engine again and pulls off leaving the boys behind to their own disarray.

Solay turns with one arm to pull Xavier to rest against her chest, her attention turning to the blur of trees lingering in the now partly cloudy sky, lost in the silence that she welcomes again while Angel briefly glances at the sight of her in the rear view, just wondering what’s going on inside of that head of her’s.

He hoped it was tranquility just like he was searching for within himself.

ੈ ╭──╯ . . . *ੈ ╭──╯ . . . *ੈ ╭──╯ . . . *

Continue along with my September anthology prompts here.

[enriquecarrion]

Civil War II: Choosing Sides (Trade Paperback)

Artist: Annapaola Martello

Writer: Enrique Carrión

[warping-realities]

A Better Family II

David Evans was having a bad day. The young professor, only twenty-three years old, hated the job at St James, which he had obtained only through the influence of his father, one of the institution's biggest donors. The truth was David also despises his absent father. A father who only cared about how his son's attitudes interfered with the illusory life he tried to maintain, without ever really worrying about the boy, using the money to buy, manipulate and open his son's paths. As a reflex David grew up with a bad attitude towards the world, which extended to his teachers at that same school. But karma was a bitch. David only graduated from college the same way he got that job: through his father's intervention. After that fiasco, the solution to the boy's inability was to work with the teachers that for years he despised as inferior beings. And that place quickly became a torment. Although it was still only on his second day at work, David found former professors willing to make him pay for his para attitudes and students ready to replicate them in him. To top it all off, David's brand new Mercedez just got screwed up which added to his frustration.

"Damn car, damn stupid job, damn life."

"Apparently someone got up on the wrong foot today." Said a bassy voice.

"Ramirez." It was David's only comment as the handsome male specimen approached, Enrique Ramirez the PE teacher, already in uniform for the day and exuding an air of self-assurance and masculinity that had irked David from the first moment. He was used to being the alpha male, but a single glance at his colleague made it clear that here in St. James the position was already taken.

"Car trouble, Evans?"

"That crap just let me down so I was late for work." David replied, taking advantage of the problem to justify his delay in arriving at the service, caused in reality by his total lack of will to be there.

Enrique smirked as if he knew the car wasn't really the reason for the delay, but as a sign of good faith he decided to offer his new colleague some help.

"My father-in-law owns a car repair shop and I worked with him myself during high school, I can take a look for you and try to identify the source of the problem."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Sorry, but I don't understood your comment, Evans." Enrique replied, understanding very well what the other man had inferred.

"Hum... I mean ... you can look... please?" Asked David grudgingly. But taking the opportunity. His father was already irritated with him, if he bothered the old man with that problem he might decide to cut off his funds.

"No problem, let me see what we have here." Said Enrique approaching and opening the hood of the car, only to be hit by a cloud of black smoke.

"What the fuck did you do with the car, Evans?" he asked between a coughing fit.

"I... I don't know. I've never cared much about cars, it's the underlings' job and..." David started to say, stopping abruptly when he saw his colleague's icy expression.

"I suggest then that you find an underling to fix this shit." Enrique replied, ready to withdraw from that company that increasingly displeased him.

"Wait, Ramirez! Hum, Enrique..."

"What?"

"Would you be able to get me your father-in-law's contact? I mean… if he doesn't charge too much."

“Mr Huerta is extremely competent at what he does and will charge you exactly what his service is worth and nothing more. I shouldn't do this given you attitude, but we are colleagues and will be obliged to interact. I'll get in touch with a tow truck team to pick you and your car and take to his workshop."

"Hum, thanks and...ahh...sorry if I was...hum...offensive." David concluded as if he don’t apologize often, which in fact he didn’t.

"No problem, I hope the next time we meet things are better." Said Enrique knowing that it was almost impossible to happen.

"Sure, man" replied David, thinking exactly the same as his colleague.

….

Meanwhile, at that exact moment in Diego's workshop, a beautiful middle-aged brunette wearing was received by the smiling owner.

"Good morning Marina!"

"Good morning Diego, are you coming from the gym?" She said looking at the impressive arms of her boss.

"Yes, I've just finished my morning training. I hope someone shows up for a job interview, we're short of staff, I can't handle the work alone for much longer."

"I'm sure someone will show up. I could ask Nico to help you but…" Said Marina, her smile fading.

"What is it? Is the boy in trouble?"

"Oh, I don't want to bother you with my problems, Diego."

"Marina, I've known that boy and his brother since they were babies. I'm sorry I couldn't help with Miguel, but whatever I can help with Nicolas, I'll help."

"Oh Diego, you are a great boss and a wonderful friend and I really don't know what I would do without you. But I'm afraid my boys have more of their father than I thought. Miguel hasn't been home for months and Nico... he's been with the same kind of company as his brother and... we had a terrible argument! Oh, I'm so afraid of losing them both, Diego." She concluded with teary eyes.

"Marina, as soon as possible I'm going to talk to the boys, both of them, and try to put some sense in their heads."

"Thank you, with all my heart, I…" she started to say, being interrupted by the phone ringing in the waiting room.

"Let me answer the phone, maybe this is good news, perhaps someone interested in the job offer." And she went to her post, discreetly wiping her eyes in the hope that her boss hadn't noticed her crying.

But Diego noticed, there was nothing he didn't notice about Marina. The two had a long history together. She had crossed the border with him so many years ago, but her trip had been longer, she was Brazilian and had gone to Mexico in an attempt to enter the United States. At the border, she met Diego and helped him take care of Melissa during the entire journey. At the time Diego realized that she was interested in him, but his heart was still in mourning for his late wife. When they were already established in the new country, and Diego, ready to try something new, decided to look for her, but instead found her married and pregnant with her eldest son, Miguel, to whom she asked Diego to be godfather. Marina's husband, Marcelo, also Brazilian, didn't like it very much, but Diego accepted the position. And he didn't budge from that.

Shortly after the birth of the boy Marina became pregnant again, but before the birth of her second son Nicolas, Marcelo was arrested for drug trafficking, dying in prison after a gang fight. Widowed and with two children to raise, Marina did what she could to support the household, working day and night, often leaving the boys in the care of Diego or by Enrique's grandparents, since the boy grew up without his parents, who died in Venezuela. Whenever possible Marina returned the favor by taking care of Melissa and the boy.

When Diego finally opened his workshop he hired her to do reception work and the boys were raised as if they were his children. And he knew they could have been, if he'd had the nerve to ask her out. But he didn't, creating several excuses not to do what he wanted most.

Time passed, the boys grew up... and something in them changed, maybe it was Marcelo's bad blood coming out. It started with Miguel, at the age of seventeen the playful boy gave way to an angry young man, the hours spent helping Diego in the workshop replaced by hours hanging around with bad company. Diego tried to intervene only to be rebuffed. And that hurt him a lot. Now it seemed the same was happening with Nico and he didn't know if he could do anything to avoid it, but he would certainly try his best.

"It was Rico on the phone, saying he sent a colleague's car for repairs, apparently the guy is a jerk. But he has money."

"We've dealt with our share of idiots, one more won't make a difference." Diego answered while examining the small metallic disc that he had found in the living room that morning.

"What is it, boss?"

"I have no idea, it just turned up at my house. Maybe Melissa or Rico left it there, I forgot I took it this morning. I’ll talk to them later, looks like our client arrived and he is exactly what Rico told you." He said, nodding at the blond man who was coming down from the tow truck, with an expression of complete disgust on his face.

“Let me take care of him.”

"Graças a Deus." She replied, returning to her work station.

"Hum, who do I have to talk to in this...hum...establishment...?

Diego mentally rolled his eyes as he reached out to the boy, who reluctantly reached out as well, the expression of disgust still present. With the intention of provoking the asshole, Diego put his other hand, the one that held the Reality Warper, on the man’s shoulder.

“ I'm Diego welcome to this… establishment… son."

And thus starting an unexpected reaction. With the contact with the target established and interpreting that phrase from the bearer as if it were an order, the artifact began its work.

Diego's impression was as if time had stopped and he couldn't move, so great was his surprise when he saw the small disc begin to expand and form the metallic structure around David, who tried to escape, but like so many others before him ended up trapped inside the metallic cocoon that would transform him forever. Recovering his voice Diego began to shout:

"Marina! Help…. Marinaaaa!" But she couldn't hear him, because in fact time had stopped for the bearer and for the target, everything that was happening there was out of time and reality itself, as the two dimensions were being altered.

"Boy, boy? Can you hear me? Damn, I don't even know your name... What the fuck is..." he interrupted himself when he saw one of the walls of the structure show the image of a thin young man, reformulating himself to then present the face of a young man with Latin features.

The scare with that was not greater than seeing the walls of the metallic cocoon retract in the small disc, leaving a man totally different from the one who was in his place. In front of him was a handsome young Latino man, tall and muscular, wearing the work uniform from Diego's workshop. Not knowing what to do or how to react, Diego just watched him with an astonished face, about to have the third surprise of the day. The boy opened his eyes, fixing his gaze in Diego's direction and smiled.

"Buenos días, papá!”

“I thought I'd start with Mrs. Angela's car. An old model like that will be hard to find the parts. By the way, I was up late yesterday working on my little project and I think I'm going to need some more experienced hands." Said the man, pointing to a blue 1967 Ford Mustang located where David’s brand new Mercedez used to be.

"Boy... I... what kind of joke is this...?"

"Father, you know I would never play with that, this project has been our dream since I was little. I repeat, I would never play with that, right Marina? Said the man, seeing Marina return from the reception holding two steaming cups of coffee.

"Ah, yes. Ever since you were a little kid you've been talking about restoring an old car with your bare hands. I don't think I've ever seen you without grease on your hands, Dieguito." She said, handing a cup to him who opened an even brighter smile. While she extended the other towards Diego who stared at the two stupefied.

"Dieguito...?"

"Si, Papa?"

"Marina, what's going on here, I... I..."

"Papá, is everything okay?" Asked the man putting his hand on Diego's shoulder who was suddenly invaded by conflicting memories. A cheerful boy, walking beside him, not realizing the risk of the crossing they were making, while Diego held a three-year-old Melissa in his lap, who was talking animatedly with a young Marina, the two laughing and trying to understand the differences between Spanish and Portuguese. The same boy, playing soccer on a makeshift field in their neighborhood and smiling at his father as he tried to dribble past his best friend, a young Enrique Ramirez just as smiling. Then the two boys already teenagers, dirty with grease in Diego's workshop. The two boys playing baseball in high school, the happiness on Diego Junior's face when he found out that his best friend had received a sports scholarship to college, even though he himself hadn't won one. The two wearing gala clothes for the prom, with the boy all happy to discover that his best friend was dating his sister. Then the boy with tears on his face while apologizing to him for not being able to go to college and smiling when Diego told him that he didn't care, that he was proud of him and that he would be the happiest father in the world to have his son by his side at work. The same happiness that shone in the boy's eyes when he received the car he had dreamed of restoring his whole life as a gift from his father, expressed through the phrase "Te amo, papá!" And at that moment Diego fell to the floor of his workshop, with tears in his eyes, scaring those around him.

"Papá, papá! Marina ayúdame aquí!”

“Nossa senhora! Diego, o que houve?”

“No es nada, estoy bien.” Said, Diego getting up and staring into the boy's eyes full of concern, his boy, his son!

"It must have been my blood pressure, there's nothing to worry about. Ah, thank you Marina." He concluded, taking the cup of coffee from the woman's still outstretched hand."

"Papa, I bet you didn't have a proper post-workout meal, let me get something from the market. Marina, keep an eye on him until I get back."

"I'll do it, Dieguito! And you, Mr. Huerta, you can go sit down, and no efforts until your son returns!"

"Yes ma'am!"

"You should be happy, you have a wonderful son, Diego." She said with her sad smile."

"You're right, Marina, I have the best son in the world." Diego replied looking at his boy as he left the workshop.

….

The rest of the day passed in a way that felt both familiar and completely new to Diego. He had all those memories of his son, but at the same time he knew that until that morning the boy didn't exist. That in his place there had been another man, whose name he didn't even know and whose existence had been erased from the face of the Earth. Marina didn't remember anything and even Enrique told him that he didn't have a colleague who fit the description and that nobody in St. James had car trouble that morning. Apparently Diego Jr was here to stay.

Diego wouldn't complain about that, because Dieguito was everything he ever wanted in a son, the boy was strong, funny, smart, hardworking and looked at his father with eyes of total respect and admiration. Diego knew that when the time came, the boy would be ready to take his post at the head of the workshop.

Still, there was the possibility that it would all disappear just as abruptly as it had started. So he spent the whole afternoon locked in his office researching any information there was about the artifact. Aside from a few legends and myths about magical objects, he didn't find anything relevant. Although his research led him to sites with stories aimed at just that kind of situation, and although they were clearly fiction, some were eerily reminiscent of the situation he found himself in. With nothing else to do, Diego dismissed Marina and his son and closed the workshop alone, still thinking about the strangeness of the situation.

When he got home he found Dieguito putting on his gym clothes in the living room and he couldn't stop admiring him, the boy was everything he had wanted all his life and he knew that was how it was because he himself had created him, but there were those other memories where the boy didn't exist, memories that scared him immensely.

His thoughts were interrupted by his son.

"Papá, I didn't see you arrive.... why are you staring at me? Is there something wrong? I noticed you've been acting strange all day..."

"There's nothing wrong hijo, it’s just… just that today I realized how perfect you are!"

"Papá, por favor! I didn't even go to college like Rico, all I do is follow in your footsteps."

"And what more could I want? I repeat, you are perfect, Dieguito. I love Rico like a son, but you are my only son and I couldn't wish for a better one!" Diego replied causing a shy smile to appear on his son’s face.

"Thanks father, hearing you say it means a lot to me!" The man replied obviously happy but at the same time a little embarrassed by that statement. So much so that he quickly changed the subject.

"Papá, something happened today. I didn't mention anything to Marina, but I ran into Miguel today at the market. He didn't seem too well. We talked for a few minutes and... I don't know, something didn't feel right."

"Marina is worried about the boys Diego, Miguel has been out of the house frequently since last year, he hasn't appeared for months and now it seems that Nicolas is replicating the behavior.... tell me, can you get in touch with him ?" Finished Diego, with an idea sprouting in his head.

"Sure, do you intend to talk to him again?"

"I intend much more than that son. Get in touch with the boy and ask him to meet you at the gym." Diego said unbuttoning his uniform shirt and heading to his bedroom to put on gym clothes.

"I can try, but it's not guaranteed, papá. Do you intend to train twice today? Remember what happened in the morning."

"Kid, don't worry about me, worry about embarrassing yourself by lifting less weight than your father."

"In your dreams, old man!"

....

“Are you ready to see how a professional works Dieguito?"

"See those arms, Rico? They are the arms of a true professional, forged with the work of a real man."

With a radiant smile Diego watched his son and his future son-in-law exchange bravado at the gym, as the two best friends had been doing since childhood.

However, he felt that smile fade as he looked out the window and watched a boy approaching. Knowing he was about to do something very extraordinary or very stupid. But that either way could alter that boy's fate permanently.

[thisisyourdriverspeaking]

Another day calls for another edition of US motorsport number twos posts. Featuring some absolute classic tunes 👌. Enjoy 😊😊

Sebastien Loeb (26th February 1974) - Terry Jacks - Seasons In The Sun

Tony Kanaan (31st December 1974) - Elton John - Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds

Juan Pablo Montoya (20th September 1975) - Glen Campbell - Rhinestone Cowboy

Mark Webber (27th August 1976) - Bee Gees - You Should Be Dancing

Kimi Raikkonen (17th October 1979) - Herb Alpert - Rise

Jenson Button (19th January 1980) - Captain & Tennille - Do That To Me One More Time

Felipe Massa (25th April 1981) - Sheena Easton - Morning Train (Nine To Five)

Heikki Kovalainen (19th October 1981) - Diana Ross & Lionel Richie - Endless Love

Andre Lotterer (19th November 1981) - The Rolling Stones - Start Me Up

Pippa Mann (11th August 1983) - Eurythmics - Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)

Simon Pagenaud (18th May 1984) - Phil Collins - Against All Odds (Take A Look At Me Now)

Robert Kubica (7th December 1984) - Daryl Hall & John Oates - Out Of Touch

Nico Rosberg (27th June 1985) - Phil Collins - Sussudio

Jerome D'Ambrosio (27th December 1985) - Mr Mister - Broken Wings

Rahel Frey (23rd February 1986) - Mr Mister - Kyrie

Kamui Kobayashi (13th September 1986) - Lionel Richie - Dancing On The Ceiling

Rene Rast (26th October 1986) - Tina Turner - Typical Male

James Hinchcliffe (5th December 1986) - The Human League - Human

Oliver Turvey (1st April 1987) - Starship - Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

Sebastian Vettel (3rd July 1987) - Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam - Head To Toe

Alexander Sims (15th March 1988) - George Michael - Father Figure

Molly Taylor (6th May 1988) - Terrence Trent D'Arby - Wishing Well

Simona De Silvestro (1st September 1988) - Elton John - I Don't Wanna Go On With You Like That

Sarah Bovy (15th May 1989) - Madonna - Like A Prayer

James Calado (13th June 1989) - New Kids On The Block - I'll Be Loving You (Forever)

Brendon Hartley (10th November 1989) - New Kids On The Block - Cover Girl

Earl Bamber (9th July 1990) - Roxette - It Must Have Been Love

Cristina Gutierrez (24th July 1991) - Paula Abdul - Rush Rush

Abbie Eaton (2nd January 1992) - Boyz II Men - It's So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday

Timmy Hansen (21st May 1992) - En Vogue - My Lovin' (You're Never Gonna Get It)

Daniel Abt (3rd December 1992) - The Heights - How Do You Talk To An Angel

Alice Powell (26th January 1993) - Shai - If I Ever Fall In Love

Tatiana Calderon (10th March 1993) - Whitney Houston - I Will Always Love You

Christine GZ (22nd July 1993) & Alex Lynn (17th September 1993) - UB40 - Can't Help Falling In Love

Bubba Wallace (8th October 1993) - SWV - Right Here (Human Nature)

Michelle Gatting (31st December 1993) - Janet Jackson - Again

Naomi Schiff (18th May 1994) - Prince - The Most Beautiful Girl In The World

Jessica Hawkins (16th February 1995) - Boyz II Men - On Bended Knee

Luca Ghiotto (24th February 1995) - Madonna - Take A Bow

Beitske Visser (10th March 1995) - TLC - Creep

Nicholas Latifi (29th June 1995) - Nicki French - Total Eclipse Of The Heart

Jack Aitken (23rd September 1995) - Michael Jackson - You Are Not Alone

Oliver Askew (12th December 1996) - BlackStreet ft Dr Dre - No Diggity

Louis Deletraz (22nd April 1997) - Jewel - Foolish Games

Catie Munnings (15th November 1997) - Usher - You Make Me Wanna...

Cem Bolukbasi (9th February 1998) - Usher - Nice & Slow

Jamie Chadwick (20th May 1998) - Mariah Carey - My All

Kevin Hansen (28th May 1998) - Next - Too Close

Mick Schumacher (22nd March 1999) - Whitney Houston ft Faith Evans & Kelly Price - Heartbreak Hotel

Toni Breidinger (14th July 1999) & Max Fewtrell (29th July 1999) - Destiny's Child - Bills Bills Bills

Robert Shwartzman (16th September 1999) - TLC - Unpretty

Bent Viscaal (18th September 1999) - Enrique Iglesias - Bailamos

Felipe Drugovich (23rd May 2000) - Faith Hill - Breathe

Marta Garcia (9th August 2000) - Sisqo - Incomplete

Arthur Leclerc (14th October 2000) - Madonna - Music

Sophia Florsch (1st December 2000) - Creed - With Arms Wide Open

Clement Novalak (23rd December 2000) - Shaggy ft Rikrok - It Wasn't Me

Frederik Vesti (13th January 2002) - Usher - U Got It Bad

Luke Browning (31st January 2002) - Ja Rule ft Ashanti - Always On Time

Liam Lawson (11th February 2002) - Nickelback - How You Remind Me

Olli Caldwell (11th June 2002) - Fat Joe ft Ashanti - What's Luv?

Jack Doohan (20th January 2003) - Missy Elliott - Work It

All added to this playlist 😊

[simonsquest]

Chapters 3 and 4 of The Requiem for Simon Belmont are now published on AO3. Follow the link above to read. :)

CONTENT WARNINGS FOR THESE CHAPTERS: none

CHAPTER 3 SUMMARY: Enrique volunteers a begrudging Selena to show the Belmonts her abilities in combat in a training session against Simon.

CHAPTER 4 SUMMARY: Back to the present, Simon ventures to Veros while the sun still offers protection. He learns about the prominent families in the area who are rumoured to possess a sacred artifact.

Updates weekly.

[fotograrte]

Estatua ecuestre de San Fernando (Sevilla)

Hoy vamos a tratar un monumento especial: el realizado en honor del rey Fernando III el Santo, hoy en la llamada Plaza Nueva en el barrio del Arenal, distrito Casco Antiguo, con la disposición que se ve en la foto anterior. Continue reading Estatua ecuestre de San Fernando (Sevilla)

[truhanthings]

[tacticalhimbo]

REMEMBERING PULSE NIGHTCLUB - COMMUNITY COALITION AGAINST ONEPULSE

The only prominent post going around about the Pulse Nightclub shooting in 2016 is my own, and is unfortunately cursed to the fate of receiving reblogs of an inaccurate version. So, 8 years later, I'm doing the right thing and making a new post to properly honor the victims and their families.

May these beautiful souls rest in peace, and may we never forget their names (not in picture order, afaik):

Stanley Almodovar III, 23

Amanda Alvear, 25

Oscar A Aracena-Montero, 26

Rodolfo Ayala-Ayala, 33

Alejandro Barrios Martinez, 21

Martin Benitez Torres, 33

Antonio D Brown, 30

Darryl R Burt II, 29

Jonathan A Camuy Vega, 24

Angel L Candelario-Padro, 28

Simon A Carrillo Fernandez, 31

Juan Chevez-Martinez, 25

Luis D Conde, 39

Cory J Connell, 21

Tevin E Crosby, 25

Franky J Dejesus Velazquez, 50

Deonka D Drayton, 32

Mercedes M Flores, 26

Peter O Gonzalez-Cruz, 22

Juan R Guerrero, 22

Paul T Henry, 41

Frank Hernandez, 27

Miguel A Honorato, 30

Javier Jorge-Reyes, 40

Jason B Josaphat, 19

Eddie J Justice, 30

Anthony L Laureano Disla, 25

Christopher A Leinonen, 32

Brenda L Marquez McCool, 49

Jean C Mendez Perez, 35

Akyra Monet Murray, 18

Kimberly Morris, 37

Jean C Nieves Rodriguez, 27

Luis O Ocasio-Capo, 20

Geraldo A Ortiz-Jimenez, 25

Eric Ivan Ortiz-Rivera, 36

Joel Rayon Paniagua, 32

Enrique L Rios Jr, 25

Juan P Rivera Velazquez, 37

Yilmary Rodriguez Solivan, 24

Christopher J Sanfeliz, 24

Xavier Emmanuel Serrano Rosado, 35

Gilberto Ramon Silva Menendez, 25

Edward Sotomayor Jr, 34

Shane E Tomlinson, 33

Leroy Valentin Fernandez, 25

Luis S Vielma, 22

Luis Daniel Wilson-Leon, 37

Jerald A Wright, 31

Will it gain the traction it needs? Probably not. But I'm not as... distant, about today, as I have been over the years. Because let's face it... This hits close to home for me. I said this in my original posting, too:

As someone who lives relatively near Orlando, I remember this day so vividly and I still feel a lot of pain for the victims even five years later.

I remember biting back tears in my living room because I wasn't out of the closet, and couldn't let my family know just how much this hurt me. I remember breaking down that night while scrolling the headlines, watching as the number of fatalities kept climbing. I remember staring at the button on Facebook asking me if I was safe.

And to this day, even with those involved and responsible gone... I still do not feel safe as a queer man in this state or in this country.

More importantly, though, it's important to highlight the community impacted by it, and the way onePULSE and its founder (Barbara Poma), the city of Orlando, and the State of Florida have exploited and continue to exploit the deaths of these individuals.

Information from here on out will be taken from the Community Coalition Agaisnt a Pulse Museum's official website, which can be found at the following link: [ LINK ]

The Community Coalition Against a Pulse Museum (CCAPM) is a group of surviving victims, family members of victims, activists, and scholars who have banded together to fight against the onePULSE Foundation's privatized memorial and museum complex. Our position is that money raised in the name of the mass shooting should go to the continued care of survivors. A public memorial park that does not seek to capitalize on the mass shooting in any way is the only option for a just memorial.

In addition, we seek justice for mass shooting victims by exposing the history and scope of unpermitted renovations and code violations at Pulse, which impaired the escape and rescue of shooting victims. We believe that Pulse owners Rosario Poma and Barbara Poma should be held accountable for these violations, rather than continuing to profit from a tragedy that was exacerbated by their illegal business decisions. We also want to see the City of Orlando held accountable for their continued failure to enforce the law and bring the business into compliance.

So what are the prominent issues?

WE ARE AGAINST COMMODIFYING MASS MURDER

The onePULSE Foundation has placed a gift shop feet away from where 49 people were murdered on the site of the interim memorial. We firmly renounce putting any price tag on the murder of our loved ones. The proposed museum is also slated to have a gift shop and a price of admission.

WE ARE AGAINST TURNING A PUBLIC TRAGEDY INTO PRIVATE PROFITS

Pulse nightclub owner, Barbara Poma, refused to sell the property to the City of Orlando for a public memorial. Instead, she created the onePULSE Foundation and has taken an executive salary in her self-made position as CEO. Perks have also included national recognition, celebrity, political connections, and undeserved accolades as an LGBTQ+ ally.

WE ARE AGAINST TURNING A MASS SHOOTING INTO A TOURIST ATTRACTION

The onePULSE Foundation has received a $10 MILLION tourism development tax grant from Orange County for the building of a museum. The tax application shows how the proposed memorial/museum complex has been intended to increase tourism during the off-season. The corporate Board of Trustees also reflects the local tourism industry.

WE SUPPORT INVESTING IN THE CONTINUED CARE OF SURVIVORS

Money raised in the name of the mass shooting at Pulse is going to multi-million dollar buildings rather than the continued care of the people who were directly affected. Available services and organizations have not provided adequate care to survivors and the onePULSE Foundation has not stepped in to fill any gaps; focusing instead on cultural and "educational" programs, while ignoring the ongoing needs of survivors.

WE CALL OUT A CHANGING MISSION

For years, the onePULSE Foundation raised funds for community grants for victims' families and survivors. In 2019, "community grants" were removed from the organization's mission. According to the released 2018 990s, only $1k was spent on community grants. People have donated money to the organization thinking that they were helping survivors.

WE ACKNOWLEDGE CONFLICTS OF INTEREST

onePULSE Foundation CEO Barbara Poma is currently being sued by survivors and victims' families as part of a security negligence lawsuit. This lawsuit also alleges the illegal transfer of the Pulse nightclub property which was transferred via quit claim deed in the months after the shooting to two other LLCs owned by Barbara and Rosario Poma. Funds raised by the non-profit are being invested in the Pulse property that the Poma's still own.

As of 2024, this case is still pending, with the latest service list being posted on the docket as of June 11. The case number is publicly available (2018-CA-006102-O) and is searchable via the Orange County Clerk of Courts Record Search.

WE AFFIRM A PUBLIC MEMORIAL PARK IS STILL POSSIBLE

Public memorial parks have been the overwhelming response to mass shootings around the country, including Aurora, Columbine, Las Vegas, and Newtown. Most have been built by volunteers, with no executive salaries. The OnePULSE Foundation's proposed museum attraction seeks to unnecessarily turn the shooting into a spectacle and requires merchandising the tragedy. Mass murder is not for sale!

WE CONTINUE TO EXPOSE UNPERMITTED RENOVATIONS AND CODE VIOLATIONS

Public records affirm that Pulse Nightclub was a death trap due to its unpermitted renovations and code violations. Documents show that these issues affected the both the escape and rescue of Pulse survivors on June 12, 2016. We continue to collect, document, and uncover these issues since the City of Orlando has still not released all relevant records to the public.

Survivors of the incident, as well as their families and those who have faced similar tragedy, have also signed an open letter [ LINK ] calling attention to these issues, provided documented evidence of the above claims [ LINK ], and have also been running a petition since 2019 to call attention to the matter:

Of course, it is important to note that the individuals mentioned (Barbara Poma, the Orlando City Council, etc.) are not the only ones involved in making this state an unsafe place for its queer community.

As noted in my original posting as well, the unsafe nature of this state runs through its government. The fight for our rights, our recognition, and our safety still continues. Here are some facts from the original post (dated June 12, 2021):

In June 2021, the Governor of Florida vetoed an "item-lined budget bill" - that legally provides mental health, counseling, and compensation directly towards victims of the June 2016 Pulse nightclub Orlando shooting.

While they cannot be enforced, sodomy laws still exist in Florida to this day. Every year, we are still criminalized by a technicality.

In many places, same-sex domestic partnerships are still not granted. It is only viable in approximately nine counties, thirty cities, and one town.

It took until 2016 for same-sex couples to be granted the same parental rights during in vitro fertilization and surrogacy as opposite-sex couples. Before then, the non-biological mother and father was not the child's legal parent nor guardian.

The state's "hate crime law" only accounts for sexual orientation, and does not protect victims who were attacked for their gender identity.

Anti-discrimination laws for sexual orientation and gender identity are not state-wide nor equally applicable within each county/town.

On June 1, 2021, Governor of Florida Ron DeSantis signed a bill to exclude transgender women from participating in sports designated for female students. This bill passed because of a last-minute legislative "procedural maneuver". The HRC is currently establishing a campaign to try and stop the law from going into effect (called "nullification") on midnight July 1.

Gay-panic and Trans-panic are still viable legal defenses, resulting in these abhorrent hate crimes to be decreased from murder to the lesser charge of manslaughter.

Conversion therapy against minors is not banned state-wide, and is still legal within many areas of the state. In fact, in some areas, a ban on the practice is deemed "unenforceable".

And that is just the tip of the iceberg, because if you've been active in your advocacy for the community (or at the very least, following me for a decent period of time)... Then you know just how unsafe Florida has become. You know how, even under the Biden administration, people like Governor Ron DeSantis have gone unchallenged in their writing and enforcement of vile legislation. You know how this legislation has begun creeping its way up to the top, to the federal level, and remained unchallenged the whole way up.

Here are some more "fun facts" about just how much we must fight against in the wake of this tragedy:

States like Florida have eliminated 80% of all trans adult care (SB 254), adults can be thrown in jail for using the bathroom of their gender identity (SB 1674), and trans people with correct gender markers on their drivers licenses can be charged with fraud (Florida Dept. of Highway Safety and Motor Vehicles memo).

The State of Florida has had several travel advisories issued against it by local LGBTQ+ organizations (e.g., Equality Florida) and national organizations (e.g., Human Rights Campaign).

Likewise, many social media laws targeting "adult content and pornography" (HB 3) include sneaky, vague language that will very much target the existence of queer folk using the internet in this state.

More states within the United States are explicitly passing anti-trans legislation than not, and moreso now than ever [ source; dated June 4th ].

The time for relying on those above us is over. We MUST kill the plague of individualism and build community. If we don't support one another, nobody will. No amount of pinkwashing, placation, or sanitation will change that.

We are here. We are queer. We will never forget, and we cannot allow ourselves to.

[princesssarisa]

Opera on Youtube 4

L'Elisir d'Amore (The Elixir of Love)

Maggio Musicale Fiorentino, 1967 (Carlo Bergonzi, Renata Scotto; conducted by Gianandrea Gavazzeni; no subtitles)

Metropolitan Opera, 1981 (Luciano Pavarotti, Judith Blegen; conducted by Nicola Rescigno; Spanish subtitles) – Part I, Part II

Metropolitan Opera, 1991 (Luciano Pavarotti, Kathleen Battle; conducted by James Levine; English subtitles) – Part I, Part II

Vienna State Opera, 2005 (Rolando Villazón, Anna Netrebko; conducted by Alfred Eschwé; English subtitles)

Theatro da Paz, Brazil, 2013 (Atalla Ayan, Carmen Monarcha; conducted by Emiliano Patarra; Brazilian Portuguese subtitles)

Teatro Manoel, Malta, 2015 (Cliff Zammit Stevens, Shoushik Barsoumian; conducted by Philip Walsh; English subtitles)

Vienna State Opera, 2017 (Dmitry Korchak, Olga Peretyatko; conducted by Marco Armiliato; no subtitles) – Part I, Part II

Ópera de Bellas Artes, Mexico City, 2017 (Ramón Vargas, Olivia Gorra; conducted by Guido Maria Guida; Spanish subtitles)

Vienna State Opera, 2018 (Benjamin Bernheim, Andrea Carroll; conducted by Frédéric Chaslin; no subtitles)

San Francisco Opera, 2023 (Pene Pati, Slávka Zámečníková; conducted by Ramón Tebar; English subtitles)

Hänsel & Gretel

Vittorio Cottafavi studio film, 1957 (Fiorenza Cossotto, Jan Poleri; conducted by Nino Sanzogno; sung in Italian with Italian subtitles)

August Everding studio film, 1981 (Brigitte Fassbaender, Edita Gruberova; conducted by Georg Solti; English subtitles)

Leipzig Opera, 1981 (Annelott Damm, Steffi Ullmann; conducted by Horst Gurgel; no subtitles)

Julliard Opera Center, 1997 (Jennifer Marquette, Sari Gruber; conducted by Randall Behr; English subtitles)

Opera Australia, 1992 (Suzanne Johnston, Christine Douglas; conducted by Johannes Fritzsch; sung in English)

Vienna State Opera, 2015 (Daniel Sindram, Ileana Tonca; conducted by Christian Thielmann; English subtitles)

Pacific Northwest Opera, 2015 (Sylvia Szadovszki, Ksenia Popova; conducted by Clinton Smith; sung in English with English subtitles)

Scottish Opera, 2020 (Kitty Whately, Rhian Lois; conducted by David Parry; sung in English with English subtitles)

Eklund Opera Program, 2020 (Christine Lee, Anna Whiteway; conducted by Nicholas Carthy; sung in English with English subtitles)

Amarillo Opera, 2021 (Sarah Beckham-Turner, Patricia Westley; conducted by Carolyn Watson; English subtitles)

Turandot

Mario Lanfranchi studio film, 1958 (Lucilla Udovick, Franco Corelli; conducted by Fernando Previtali; English subtitles)

Vienna State Opera, 1983 (Eva Marton, José Carreras; conducted by Lorin Maazel; no subtitles)

Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, 1986 (Gwyneth Jones, Franco Bonisolli; conducted by Jacques Delacote; English subtitles)

Forbidden City, Beijing, 1998 (Giovanna Casolla, Sergej Larin; conducted by Zubin Mehta; no subtitles)

Teatro alla Scala; 2001 (Alessandra Marc, Nicola Martinucci; conducted by Georges Prêtre; French subtitles)

Gran Teatre del Liceu, 2009 (Anna Shafajinskaia, Fabio Armiliato; conducted by Giuliano Carella; English subtitles)

Chorégies d'Orange 2012 (Lise Lindstrom, Roberto Alagna; conducted by Michel Plasson; French subtitles)

Wichita Grand Opera, 2015 (Zvetelina Vassileva, Ricardo Tamura; conducted by Martin Mazik; no subtitles)

Teatro de Bellas Artes, Mexico City, 2017 (Gabriela Georgieva, Carlos Galván; conducted by Enrique Patrón de Rueda; Spanish subtitles)

Opera Hong Kong, 2018 (Oksana Dyka, Alfred Kim; conducted by Paolo Olmi; English subtitles)

Eugene Onegin

Prince Regent Theatre, Munich, 1965 (Hermann Prey, Ingeborg Bremert; conducted by Joseph Keilberth; sung in German; no subtitles)

Paris Opera, 1982 (Benjamin Luxon, Galina Vishnevskaya; conducted by Mstislav Rostropovich; French subtitles)

Kirov Opera, 1984 (Sergei Leiferkus, Tatiana Novikova; conducted by Yuri Temirkanov; English subtitles)

Chicago Lyric Opera, 1985 (Wolfgang Brendel, Mirella Freni; conducted by Bruno Bartoletti; Spanish subtitles)

Petr Weigl film, 1988 (Michal Docolomanský dubbed by Bernd Weikl, Magda Vásáryová dubbed by Teresa Kubiak; conducted by Georg Solti; English subtitles)

Festspielhaus Baden-Baden, 1998 (Vladimir Glushchak, Orla Boylan; conducted by Gennadi Rozhdestvensky; English subtitles) – Act I, Act II, Act III

Palau de les Arts Reina Sofia, Valencia, 2011 (Artur Rucinski, Kristine Opolais; conducted by Omer Meir Wellber; no subtitles) – Part I, Part II

Teatro Comunale di Bologna, 2014 (Artur Rucinski, Amanda Echalaz; conducted by Aziz Shokhakimov; English subtitles)

Mariinsky Theatre, 2015 (Andrei Bondarenko, Yekaterina Goncharova; conducted by Valery Gergiev; French subtitles)

Livermore Valley Opera, 2019 (Morgan Smith, Antonina Chehovska; conducted by Alex Katsman; English subtitles)

[kdplayssss]

💫 KAILEE PARK 💫

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♡ thanks to - @dallasgirl79 @enriques4 @crypticsim @pinkishwrld @billsims-cc

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