#and Encanto stayed strong in the first half of the year

[potato-on-your-head]

I posted 4,008 times in 2022

6 posts created (0%)

4,002 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@iamnotawomanimagod

@bombshellsandbluebells

@gentil-minou

@madeline-kahn

@disneynetwork

I tagged 3,921 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#one potato queue potato three potato four - 696 posts

#miraculous ladybug - 222 posts

#heartstopper - 158 posts

#kingdom hearts - 134 posts

#encanto - 126 posts

#art: ml - 102 posts

#spy x family - 100 posts

#paramore - 78 posts

#julie and the phantoms - 78 posts

#rel8able - 77 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#where’s that post that said ‘a lot of folks on this site like to fulfill their fantasies of being high school bullies’ and that’s the truth

[alexseanchai]

@snowflakechallenge 3:

Create a wish list of fandom things (podfic, graphics, playlists, canon recs translations, research help, vids, sky's the limit!) that you'd like to receive. Post your answer to today’s challenge in your own space and leave a comment in this Snowflake Challenge Dreamwidth post saying you did it. Include a link to your post if you feel comfortable doing so.

I'm mostly blanking on things I want that aren't on my fandomtrees wishlist (which has Emelan, Encanto, Miraculous Ladybug, and Yuri on Ice prompts) or holiday_wishes wishlist (though the only fannish bits there that aren't on the fandomtrees list are in the spending-money section).

But! The first chapter of starting right now I'll be strong and all chapters of Jeu des princesses avec les pommes d'or de la discorde, inscribed 'to the fairest', both canon-divergent Yuri on Ice fics, are told entirely through stuff the characters said on the internet. Notably on Instagram. Thing is I do not have either the art skills or the art commission money to illustrate most of those Instagram posts. So if I can't glue the Insta post together using canon screenshots, Wikimedia Commons, and Unsplash, then the Insta post has to stay text-only. (You can see in the second chapter of Jeu des princesses how well that's going. I do have two and a half of the images for the first chapter of starting right now—the first one, the Minami one, and the top half of the one where the bottom half is Yuuri stole Phichit's Pikachu hat—but comparing those two chapters may illustrate why I haven't added those images yet.)

So in addition to what's listed on fandomtrees—and I'm joining the chorus of Snowflake participants who want people to look over all those wishlists, or at least the ones with fewer than two gifts, and fill what you can—I am asking for fanart that's the image part of one or another of the Insta posts in one of those two fics.

And! fandomtrees doesn't do Creator's Choice of Fandom, which is valid, but does mean I had to leave this prompt off that list:

* exploration via historical documents, primary and secondary sources, etc., of canon characters/events and their effects on the local, regional, and global courses of history. this could be set a couple hundred years after canon and thus explore canon from a historian's perspective (social media posts could be both primary and secondary sources here, depending), or it could be set around, during, or before canon and explore characters who have been name-checked at most.

Also, the how to use CSS to make iOS messages look realistic guide by CodenameCarrot and La_Temperanza makes it seem like there should be a way to use background-image in the CSS from the how to use CSS to make vintage-2016 Instagram posts look realistic guide by gadaursan (with instIcon1 instIcon2 instIcon3 instead of instIcon, as well as instIconRight instHeart) so that those five little icons don't display when creator style is off. But so far all I seem to be achieving is making them not display when creator style is on, either. Send help?

[im-just-a-br0adway-baby]

Encantober 2023 Day 10: Help

Luisa was considered to be one of the most helpful people in the Encanto. Whenever someone needed help in the village, Luisa was there to help them with whatever was needed. While she was considered a hero in the village, Luisa always had trouble asking for help whenever it was needed, because she was scared it would make her look weak. Ever since she first got her gift, Alma pushed the idea into her head that if she asked for help with anything, she was automatically weak.

It was not until one day when she was doing chores around the village when she realized how much asking for help would be a strength rather than a weakness. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon in the Encanto, and Luisa had just finished lunch and was going into town to do some afternoon chores. She was asked to bring the donkeys back in the shed after they escaped, as always, and now it was time for her to relocate the local church again.

Once she got to the church, she lifted the building with ease and was on her way to relocate it. But once she almost got to the spot she needed to relocate the church to, she dropped it. She lifted the church building once more successfully, and walked over to relocate it, but dropped it before she could again.

Gabriela, Luisa’s best friend since first grade, noticed her struggling and walked over to see what was the matter. She saw her sitting by the church with her head buried in her knees, and her arms wrapped around them. Gabriela ran by Luisa and sat next to her, tapping her on her shoulder.

“Hola, Luisa; I couldn’t help but notice that you were upset. Is there anything that’s bothering you?” Gabriela asked as she put her hand on Luisa’s shoulder.

Luisa hesitated before she could respond. “Si; I’ve been trying to relocate the church, and while I have relocated it several times before, now, I’ve noticed I’m getting really tired after holding it for only a couple of minutes.”

Gabriela hugged her best friend as she continued crying on her shoulder. The pair have been best friends for thirteen years, Gabriela has never seen Luisa break down in front of her before. She has come to her for many things, and she was always the one to offer her help when needed, and vice versa. However, not once during that time did she ever experience Luisa so desperate for help that she broke down.

“Luisa, I want you to know that I’m here for you. I understand that you may not want my help, but I’m offering it to you. You’re my best friend in the entire world and I don’t like to see you struggle.”

Luisa stopped crying and hugged Gabriela once more when she reached her arms out for her. While she did not want to admit it at the moment, she really did need help. Knowing that Gabriela was there to ensure that she would be there put her at ease and made her more comfortable with admitting that she needed help. It made her feel like a lot of weight was taken off of her shoulders.

“Actually, Gabi, I do want your help; in fact, I need your help. You’re one of the only people I can comfortably admit to that.”

Gabriela smiled and gave Luisa another hug. She then wiped the final tear on her face and Luisa smiled at her. Gabi moved a piece of Luisa’s hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear before they got up and looked at the building.

“So, what do you need help with?” Gabriela asked.

“It’s more that I’ve been tired after a while. I guess the burnout has been getting to me since I still have trouble asking for help. Maybe I could get one side of the church and you could get the other side?”

“I’m not sure if that would be strong enough for just me. I would need many more people to help us…” Gabriela then smiled as an idea sparked in her head. “Wait here!”

Gabriela then ran off and Luisa stayed by the church to wait for the surprise that Gabriela was going to get. After about a half hour, Gabriela came back with Jose and Lucia on both sides of her.

“Since I know I’m not the only one that is able to help you, I got my siblings with me to help you!”

“Gabi told us about the pickle you’re in, so we wanted to give you a helping hand,” Lucia pointed out.

“But isn’t it still going to be too much for just the three of you?”

“They’re not the only ones,” said Gabriela.

Gabriela then revealed that Isabela, Dolores, Camilo, Mirabel, and Antonio all came with her. She was not only going to have three people help her; she was going to have eight people help! Knowing that Gabriela got her sisters and cousins to help her made her realize how much of a great friend she was. She knew she was an amazing friend since they first became friends, but this solidified how kind and helpful she was.

“So which side do you want us to be on?” Mirabel asked.

Luisa thought before she replied. I want Antonio and Lucia to be on one side with me since they’re the smallest ones. Mirabel and Jose can go on the opposite side. Camilo and Isabela can take the left side, and Dolores and Gabriela can take the right.”

All three sibling groups split up to take their side of the church building. All nine of them put their hands on the bottom of the edge of the church they were assigned. Once everyone found an area they could lift, Luisa called everyone for attention.

“Okay, on the count of three, we lift. Uno, dos tres!”

All three sibling groups lifted the church together successfully and started to move it. They started with little steps to make sure they were in sync with each other. One of the things they tried their hardest to do since repairing Casita was to use as much teamwork as they could with each other. Ever since then, they have been working together much more and it has helped them with so many things.

It was not long until they made their way to where the church was going to be relocated to. The nine of them slowly put the building down where Luisa was asked to put it. Once the building was put down, the nine of them backed away to see how it looked; they cheered and high-fived each other once they noticed how the church looked.

“It looks amazing! Gracias, Gabriela, for getting everyone to help me!” Luisa pointed out.

“De nada, Luisa; like I said, seeing you struggle doesn’t make me feel good at all. So I found everyone I could to help us.”

“It does feel pretty good to do something for the village other than growing flowers and other plants for everyone,” said Isabela.

“And doing something for the village in general feels great,” Mirabel added.

The nine children hugged each other once more to appreciate their hard work again. As much as they wanted to stay and appreciate it more, it was getting late and it was almost time for them to go home and eat dinner.

“Do you want to ask your parents if you could stay for dinner tonight? It’s the least we could do for your help,” Luisa asked.

“I would love that,” Gabriela replied.

[batgirlsay]

Herbalist Burnout

Teacher AU Playlist for Obiyuki AU Bingo 2022 by @snowwhite-andtheknight

While searching for a final playlist to make, I decided to condense my ever growing “Academic Burnout” playlist that got me through these past few semesters of teaching into an AU playlist.  

The story is similar to the grad school playlist, except Shirayuki is also teaching labs as a TA when she is in grad school at Lilias. Obi is encouraging her along the way, with the two Incubus songs from his point of view (there’s even a poison apple reference!).

Surface Pressure- Jessica Darrow (from Encanto Soundtrack) How Not To Drown- Chvrches and Robert Smith Head Above Water- GLASWING (Aaron Marsh of Copeland) Pictures of Success- Rilo Kiley State of the Art- Incubus Earth to Bella, Pt. 2- Incubus Up All Night- David Bazan The Shell- Lucy Dacus

Summary lyrics are cited after the bonus burnout Shirayuki!

Surface Pressure- Jessica Darrow (from Encanto Soundtrack)

I'm the strong one, I'm not nervous I'm as tough as the crust of the Earth is I move mountains, I move churches And I glow, 'cause I know what my worth is

I don't ask how hard the work is Got a rough, indestructible surface Diamonds and platinum, I find 'em, I flatten 'em I take what I'm handed, I break what's demanded, but

Under the surface I feel berserk as a tightrope walker in a three-ring circus Under the surface Was Hercules ever like, "Yo, I don't wanna fight Cerberus?" Under the surface I'm pretty surе I'm worthless if I can't be of servicе

Pressure like a tick, tick, tick 'til it's ready to blow Who am I if I can't carry it all? If I falter

But wait, if I could shake the crushing weight of expectations Would that free some room up for joy Or relaxation, or simple pleasure? Instead, we measure this growing pressure Keeps growing, keep going

How Not To Drown- Chvrches and Robert Smith

I'm writin' a book on how to stay conscious when you drown And if the words float up to the surface, I'll keep 'em down

I'm writing a chapter on what to do after they dig you up On what to do after you grew to hate what you used to love

Head Above Water- GLASWING (Aaron Marsh of Copeland)

Can I keep my head above water You keep my head above water

It’s everything that I hope for Everything that I fear

And when I’ve finally gone under Turn my head to the sun Feel the water rush through me Think of how far I’ve fallen I think of how far we’ve come From our days on the shorе line With one foot in the cold To whеn we’d drift to the low tide With the waves as they roll

Pictures of Success- Rilo Kiley

I'm a modern girl but I fold in half so easily When I put myself in the picture of success I could learn world trade or try to map the ocean

'Cause I'm not scared But I'd like some extra spare time

And I say I've got my best shoes on I'm ready to go

State of the Art- Incubus

You were the first in flight, now a modern relic Merely a payphone on a one AM sidewalk We're all cast aside and we're antiquated Right as we start to finally figure out what we are

Now do you see that smile at the foot of the ladder Ain't it familiar? That was you only yesterday But this justice feels more like a poison apple And inevitably everyone'll bite into it

Look at you so bright, state of the art You're new, you're young, your blissful ignorance Is everything they like, but the years have teeth And sometimes they bite

Earth to Bella, Pt. 2- Incubus

Earth to Bella This is a quiet emergency There's so much more to get than wronged

You're treading water successfully But are you really Don't you want to see the deep It's not so hard Just forgive yourself and feel the water open in

Up All Night- David Bazan

School's out forever It's time to blow off some steam I wanna lay on the desert floor And have a vivid dream

Summertime ain't just for teachers Summertime trying to sleep to noon Summertime up all night howling at the moon

I don't know what we're here for But the air on this summer night Makes my head feel alright

The Shell- Lucy Dacus

It's a myth and now I see it clearly You don't have to be sad to make something worth hearing Now I'm common and content, one more burden off my back

You don't wanna be a creator Doesn't mean you've got nothing to say Put down the pen, don't let it force your hand

If I had the offer to do it again Make me invincible, invisible, or brain dead If the body and the life were two things that we could divide I'd deliver up my shell to be filled with somebody else

You don't wanna be a leader Doesn't mean you don't know the way Hold your own hand, walk on without a plan

[ethanwalker00]

What I Watched in January 2022

Hey, so I'm going to test out this thing where I just talk about what I watched that month. Got the idea from Karsten Runquist on YouTube. This month isn't really in order of when I watched them, because I'm writing this at the end of the month.

The Suicide Squad

I actually watched the first half of this film sometime last year. For some reason, I never actually finished the movie until this year. It's great. Obviously. The comedy is on point and never really stops. The CGI is really good. It's such a step up from the first film, it's like it never existed. I don't know, man, James Gunn is just too good.

10/10

Oats Studios

A Sci-Fi anthology series by the guy who made District 9? Sign me up! A lot of the stories in this show were great concepts and there were a few that I really liked (mainly Bad President). That said, a lot of the episodes of this show were either way too short, or they felt more like teases for a full blown movie/show than an actual, contained story. I know that this was the point and Blomkamp released these to gauge the public's interest, but they could have done so better than that.

7/10

Archive 81

I was introduced to this show from a recommendation on the DarK subreddit, so I kind of came into this show with some expectations.

It isn't at the same quality as DarK, unfortunately. That being said, Archive 81 is still a fascinating show with an intriguing mystery surrounding it. The ending does fall off a bit, but the final cliffhanger is a really good one and I am looking forward to a season 2.

8/10

Scott Pilgrim vs The World (Rewatch)

Do I really need to talk about Scott Pilgrim? It's...fantastic. I don't know what else to say. Edgar Wright needs to direct all the movies. All of them.

10/10

Encanto (x2)

Encanto is just...brilliant. I can't really describe how good this movie is. It makes me feel things I hadn't before. I can't really relate to any of the problems that the Madrigal family face, yet it conveys them so well and so poignantly that I came out of this movie with a giant grin on my face. Mostly.

I have problems with the ending. I'm gonna talk about it real quick, so if you don't want any spoilers, just read past this.

I don't think the Madrigals should have gotten their powers back. They shouldn't have brought the Casita back to life. The whole movie, I felt we were building up to a certain message: that you don't have to be special to be, y'know, special. Putting your children and grandchildren on a pedestal and expecting them to live up to that for the rest of their life is a toxic mindset and it nearly drives the family apart in this movie. By the last five minutes, however, everything was pretty much resolved. Mirabel had reconciled with her grandmother, the family's relationship was healed, and they were rebuilding their home despite having lost their power. They had stayed strong and stayed together despite losing what they considered to have made them special. The movie then—to me, at least—throws that out of the window. The house is rebuilt and all of a sudden, everything is fixed. The magical house comes back to life and the family members who had powers just get them again. It turns out: no, you have to be special. You have to have these magical powers in order to be loved and respected. It feels wrong to me. And Mirabel still doesn't get any powers!

I don't know. It doesn't sit well with me, and its practically the only problem I have with the film.

8.5/10

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure Part 2

Technically, I started this before January, but I'm counting it because I finished it on, like New Years Day.

Jojo's is great. It's ridiculous and is in no way meant to be taken seriously. In fact, I wouldn't even call Jojo's well-written. But it makes up for that with its sheer charm. It's just funny muscled men punching each other and cracking memes for a whole season of anime. I love it. I will never forgive the Japanese.

8/10

Get Out

I'd seen Us before this film and knew to expect quality, but man, this blew Us out of the water. Almost every scene was edge-of-your-seat intense. The moment we step into this world, something feels...wrong, and you spend the whole movie piecing together what's going on, figuring it out at the exact moment that Chris does. It's really good and will probably improve the more I think about it. Watch it.

9/10

Utopia (Season 1)

I had no clue that this show existed. At all. I hadn't seen a single piece of advertisement. No poster. Not a single Youtube video about it. But I keep hearing people talk about it. I was convinced, at one point, that Utopia didn't exist. That my friends were messing with me, trying to make me believe that a fake show actually existed.

Imagine my surprise when it did.

Anyway, it's great. The art direction, the camera work, the dialogue. Pretty much everything was great. I don't really want to sing its praises until I watch season 2, but this is definitely worth a watch. Especially if you haven't heard of it like I hadn't.

9/10

Seven Samurai (1954)

I had to set aside time to watch this movie. It is really long. At three and a half hours, I was worried that I would be bored by Seven Samurai, but after finishing it, I don't really know what could be removed to make it shorter and still make sense. Each moment is painfully handcrafted and planned out. It's a marvel to watch and though I probably won't watch it again for a long time—its massive runtime being one of the main reasons why—it is going to sit in my brain for a long while. The characters, the directing, the costume design, everything is so well done and immerses you in 16th century Japan from the very first moment. I'm going to love this movie the more I think about it.

10/10

[mystblbk]

Chavela Valdes--Chapter 3

After shopping for necessities, mom manages to get a job at a local cantina and had convinced the owner to have her start right away. Panchito gets us back home in an hour, just in time for Milagros to growl at us about how she wanted half the rent by the end of the weekend. I would have yelled at her if it were not for my mom grabbing my bicep to calm me down. I stay in our room long after mom left for her new job, as a means to keep the landlord alive and to practice.

I cradle the instrument in my lap while slowly sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. The roughly tiled floor rubbed against the skin of my thigh harshly, but I have no other place to practice seeing that the Evil Witch from the South was currently in the living room a few paces away.

Right then, let’s get started.

With the silencer covering my guitar’s sound hole, I practice some of the old ballads my guitar teacher had taught me. It became our ritual to teach me a new song every day, especially after the first week of class. No one truly wanted to learn how to play the guitar, they were just there for the easy grade, so having me actually wanting to learn was a godsend to the young teacher. Mr. Peña had been a kind person to me and even allowed me to take one of his practice guitars home after he noticed how I took to each lesson with ease. He must have seen something in me because after that he had me permanently placed into his class for the next three years of high school.

I wish I could have said goodbye.

I go through a few finger placement exercises until the sadness dies out, but the songs don’t. By the time I look down at my iPod and see that its almost 4’oclock in the morning my fingers have deep creases on the tips from the steel strings. I cradle my left hand and inspect the red digits. The worn skin has small cuts from being used again, but there was no pain to be felt. I sigh and close my eyes, hands instinctively playing a new song.

“I forgot how good you were.”

My mom’s voice shocks me and my hand makes a thumping sound as it hits my instrument. Mom gives me a sheepish look when I give her an empty glare from across the room. She smiles softly as she goes through the motions of getting ready for bed. Her long shiny hair is let down, and her clothes are exchanged with pajamas. Once she’s done, she comes to sit next to me. She cuddles into my side, reminding me of how I would when I was younger.

“You know I hate being startled,” I mumble, once we’re both settled in.

“Sorry, mija,” she grins, “Come on, play something for me?”

I look down at my mother’s hazel eyes and nod slowly, “What song?”

“Surprise me,” she smiles.

I nod again and quickly roll through the songs I have memorized in my head. My mother watches as I think then moves to sit across from me and against the bed. Finally, I start strumming the cocky and sassy song. Making sure my voice is clear, I start to sing with a grin directed at my mother.

Esas tus miradas de fulgor extraño Esa tu sonrisa de color de rosa Siempre me facinan aunque me hacen daño Porque eres muy linda pero desdeñosa

My grin starts to hurt as I see mom trying to hold back a laugh. My mood is cheery as I continue along, making sure to bop my head to the quick plucking I do.

Esas tus miradas de fulgor extraño Esa tu sonrisa de color de rosa Siempre me facinan aunque me hacen daño Porque eres muy linda pero desdeñosa

Mom coughs a laugh this time, her tan cheeks a little red for holding back her cheer. I try not to giggle as an effort to complete the song completely with no breaks.

Brindame el encanto de tus bellos ojos El sensual embrujo que en ti se adivina Para que en mi vida tan llena de abrojos Seas como una estrella que a mi alma ilumina

By now mom is covering her mouth with both hands, mirth bright as the sun rising behind us. My heart soars to see her happy, to bring some happiness in the midst of all this terror we’re going through. It’ the same feeling I had with Valentina in the afternoon, a painful need to see a beautiful woman smile at me instead of frown.

Brindame el encanto de tus bellos ojos El sensual embrujo que en ti se adivina Para que en mi vida tan llena de abrojos Seas como una estrella que a mi alma ilumina

As I go through the last fast-paced strumming, my mom’s giggles get the best of her once the song ends. I giggle along with her as she stands up from next to me. I place my guitar in its case on my side of the bed. My sleepiness night catches up with me as I set my phone’s alarm for later this morning, the volume only high enough for me to hear. With a huff, I settle myself next to my mother on our small bed. I glance over at the older woman and she smiles sadly at me before turning off our only light.

My mind continues to run long after my mom’s breathing deepens into a dreamless sleep. I stare at the ceiling, unused to the new sounds and feeling of the space I’m in. Annoyed, I quietly get up from the bed and make my way to the living room and into the kitchen. I pull a cup from the rack and fill it halfway. I sigh and drink slowly, trying to quiet down my thoughts. Once finished with my drink, I wash it quietly and place it back on the rack.

My footsteps are quiet on the neon pink tiles. I’m passing the coffee table when a familiar picture catches my eye. The latest issue of Cosmopolitan sits on the table with a dog-eared page. I raise an eyebrow and stare at the magazine for a second. Curiosity gets the best of me so I grab the paper book and flip to the page that is saved.

“No way,” I whisper gasp, “It can’t be.”

But it is.

Who else can it be?

Splattered across the page is a title to an article that should be in a National Enquirer instead of a Cosmo.

Léon Carvajal: El Ultimo Adios

Underneath the morbid title is pictures of a well-aged man in a fitted suit. His features are sharp but also aged just enough to show his age. His hair was multicolored, black fading into grey and then into white in spots. His smile was warm but strong as if to say he was the boss. Underneath the collage of pictures of his life throughout the years are pictures of his funeral form a few weeks prior. A strand of pictures is framed at the bottom but one, in particular, forces my attention on it.

In the center of the picture is a brunette with watery eyes wearing all black and sitting on a couch alone. Behind her are people lingering around a warm brown colored casket, a strike of platinum blonde surrounded by a group of brunettes. All seeming to be the immediate family. All not noticing what the lonely girl has in her hands: a silver flask.

“Valentina,” I whisper with a broken heart.

I read the article and get annoyed as they speak of my new friend and her family. The writer obviously using this man’s death as a way to sell copies of this month’s magazine. I sigh and close the book, making sure to place it where it once was so Milagros won’t see a difference. My feet still make no noise as I enter our room. Mom is still asleep as I get into bed next to her. I stare at the ceiling for a moment then close my eyes, one thought lingering in my mind.

Well, right now I don’t think it applies here.

“It will,” I mumble as I fall into the abys, “I’ll make sure of it…”

_________________________________________________.

The morning comes fast, almost as fast when we were on the run a few days ago. It blends into the day so well that the dream world isn’t even acknowledged to me as I wake up at 7’olock. I quickly get ready without waking mom up, knowing full well the hell I will have to pay for her not coming with me. I’m far too concerned with her getting her own rest then my own safety as I watch how peaceful she looks. The kitchen smells of food when I exit our room, but I ignore the woman cooking as my pride is too much for a pity breakfast from her. With a forced out ‘good-bye,’ I walk out of the house and into the sleepy streets of Mexico City. Pulling up the address on my phone, I pull the strap of my guitar case tighter as to not have it taken from me in a worst-case-scenario.

The way to my new job was a nice way to get used to the city as it goes through el centro and the marketplace it stands on. There are many streets filled with people selling form their homes or pop-up stalls, mostly of spices, fresh vegetables, and the occasional clothing or electronics. The scents of the pile of spices lined around my path tickle my nose in a way that reminds me of my empty stomach. I’m spared of this painful journey as I approach a large building sticking out of the mayhem as if it were a center point of the area. As I approach the restaurant I take not of its old Spanish style, the kind that was made to attract the tourist population: red brick with white trims and wide bay windows. My feet carry me up the flight of stairs and through the front arches leading inside to the second floor.

The fluorescent lights make my eyes hurt as I to adjust to my surroundings. I blink back the shadows and look around, taking notice of the large murals on each wall. Taking one side of the building is a large bar with two stainless steel doors that would lead to the kitchen. Decorating the counter behind the marble bar are figurines of Catrinas and Alembrijes on each shelf. There are artisanal wooden tables with matching chairs placed neatly in the space to make the best use of the size with paper floral centerpieces. It was a purely Mexican restaurant that one would see in a stock image photo.

“Juliana! Good morning!”

I look over to the sound of Salvador's voice and see him along with a group of five other young men that look to be around his age. Salvador stands in the center, a few inches shorter than the tallest man. To his right were two boys, twins actually, with light skin and eyes that matched their dirty blonde hair. Their round faces made them look young, a few years older than I am, and so did their smirks and bright hazel eyes.

On Salvador’s left were the other three young men, all three handsome and tall. The tallest, which stood directly next to Salvador, had black hair and dark eyes similar to Salvador except for the broody look on his face. On the broody guy’s left was a boy with dark skin, obviously from African descent, that hade burning green eyes to contrast the rest of him. This guy’s expression was kind and open, an expression that helped calm my nerves. Finally, the last young man had bright reddish hair and super pale skin. He looked like he belonged in the hills of Scotland, not the streets of humid Mexico.

As I approached the group, I pulled my shoulders back and stand straighter to make myself look taller. The second I was a foot away, the twins pulled me into a hug and started chattering into my ears. I stay frozen in place as the two boys tug me by my jacket.

“I can’t wait to hear—”

“No, you said we were—”

“No, Sal said we have to—”

“Sal said, more like you—”

“STOP!”

Salvador’s voice booms in the restaurant, shocking the twins to look back over at him.

“I’m sure you will have time to get to hear Juliana’s,” Salvador says as he drags them into submission, “Now, how about some food while we get to know each other?”

The twins quickly pull away and run to one of the long wooden tables nearby. I stare as they push each other back and forth like only siblings do. Sal brings me back to my current position as he claps me on the back softly and pushes me carefully to the table. We all take our seats and watch as two waitresses come and start serving us some traditional Mexican breakfast. My mouth drools as one waitress places a plate of huevos rancheros in front of me. I stare down at the food then look up and around me. The boys were all tucking into their own food, taking the liberty to take from the large dishes of sides on the table to place on their plates.

A tap from my right directs me to the dark-skinned boy, he smiles encouragingly and makes signals for me to eat in a polite manner. I glance at Salvador and he smiles back, so I sigh happily and eat along with them. The breakfast is good, the only downside is that I couldn’t eat more. I sigh and sip the rest of my agua de frutas while Salvador introduces the other boys.

The twins were named Raymundo and Ricardo, kids to a widowed father of a family of eight. The redheaded boy’s name was Francisco, or Franky, and was son to an American teacher and British painter. The darkest skinned young man was named Axel, had immigrated to Mexico City a few years ago with his parents from Argentina. Finally, the broody guy that looked very similar to Salvador was introduced to me as Raúl, Salvador’s cousin.

They were all kind, except Raúl who was still a bit cold and distant and talked to me about the city and such. The conversation came to a halt when Raúl reminded us of the two outfits that I had to try on. Salvador stood up and quickly went into the employees only room. The man comes back carrying two outfits covered by black coat bags.

“Sal huffed, “Thanks, Raúl. Juli, go try them on please.”

“Okay,” I sighed, taking the two bags, “be right back.”

Axel kindly points to the restrooms and I walk in the direction of them. I quickly go inside and let out a large breath I was keeping inside. Trying to calm my nerves, I carefully hang the two protected outfits on the stall door. A few minutes later I’m pulling on the tight black pants on, the pant legs are a bit longer than me but easily fixable. The soft white dress shirt is a bit too large but I tuck it into the pants before pulling on the black vest and finally the black jacket over that. The gold tie is tricky to get on, but after a minute of struggling I figure it out. The tan belt with obstaniously large belt buckle settles perfectly on my waist.

I open the door to the stall and step into the larger part of the restrooms. With a glance over the uniform, I turn to look at myself on the large floor-to-ceiling mirror. A gasp leaves me as I look over myself. The clothes are a bit too loose but I can see with a bit of a tweak here and there I can get it to look amazing on my small frame. I looked the part of a mariachi player, except for my loose hair and converse. With a small smile I use the band I keep on my wrist to pull my hair up in a bun.

“Better,” I sigh.

“Juli,” Sal asks with a knock on the door.

“Just a second,” I call back.

Taking one more look over myself, I turn and walk out. All five boys look up and take in how I look. Sal and Axel smile largely at me while the twins smirk and nod happily. Raúl walks from his position against the wall and walks around me, eyes rolling over me with a heavy stare. The boy comes to stand in front of me and stays there for a second. I hold my breath as he turns around to the table and takes the large traditional hat. Raúl slowly and gently places the hat on my head, positioning it to face forward correctly.

“You need dress shoes, maybe even boots,” the young man tells me, “What’s your size?”

I blink, “Uhm, nine.”

“Americans,” Raúl rolls his eyes but turns back to a bag he has next to the wall.

He pulls out a pair of black leather boots, “Put these on, they should fit. They belonged to my sister, but she doesn’t even wear them so…”

I stare at the man before sitting where he pointed me to. Raúl crouches down and pulls my tennis shoes off then replaces them with the boots, telling me to adjust the shoes as needed.

“Stand up,” he tells me, “I need to see that you don’t look like a fool next to us.”

I huff but do as he says by allowing him to look me over again. Once he is satisfied, Raúl nods at me then at the others.

“She’ll do,” he proclaims, “Just needs to get them both fitted, but she should be fine.”

Sal grins, “Good. Go take that off, except the boots so you can get them worn in and get back here so we can practice.”

“Okay,” I nod and turn to follow his orders.

I make it into the restroom and once again let out a large sigh of relief. Though I felt a bit on edge from having Raúl look me over, I understood his need to have me look good next to them. My mind kept traveling to the boys as I undressed and redressed, mostly thinking how easily we got along during our breakfast. By the time I had got the suit and hat into their proper places, I was ready for practice. The boys are now standing on the makeshift stage waiting for me as I approached them.

I look over the instrument they are holding as I pull my guitar out. Salvador, no surprise, is the other guitarist. Axel holds a shiny trumpet and is doing scales with Raúl who is the second trumpeter. The twins surprise me as they tune their violins, the shape, and color the instruments almost exact to reflect their owners. A grin pulls at my lips as approach my bandmates, ready to get to it.

“Alright,” Sal tells us, “You went through the setlist I gave you right?”

I nod to Salvador, “Yeah I went through it. I knew all of them already, so I’m fine.”

“Good,” Axel nods, “Let’s go through it and then decide which parts to add or correct.”

“Which brings up another thing,” Raúl huffs, “Do you know how to sing?”

I shift in place trying to ignore their stares, “A little.”

“Then we try that too,” Raúl nods, “Let’s start then.”

With that, we begin practicing for the day.

____________________________________________________.

The wind blows my hair out of my face as I stand in the sun. My eyes don’t leave to marble rock in front of me, newly placed onto of the grave of my husband of only a few hours. I stare at the rock for another minute before a tear is released from my eye and flows down to fall into the large field of grass.

“I wish you were here. The bed is too big without you. The house is too cold. And don’t get me started on the company,” I whisper to Léon, “I’m trying my best to pick up where you left off but Johnny is such a snake! Honestly, how didn’t you see how much of a backstabber he is? He’s off speaking with presidential hopefuls and big company CEOs—completley what you’ve always been against! To top it all off he’s been flirting with me, some adopted son you picked out Léon! I’m pretty sure he’s behind all this. His actions speak for him. I can’t get proof yet, but I really hope Eva can have a change of heart so she can help me at the paper. If I have her and Guille on my side, I’m sure I can catch him in the act.

“Eva is angry She thinks this is my fault. I suppose it is, you were killed at our wedding. Guille, well Guille is trying to be strong but I know he’s finding comfort with drinking his sorrows away when he’s not working. As for Valentina—she’s a mess, my love. I’m having the staff keep an eye on her, but I know she’s been sneaking alcohol into her room at night. I really hope she finds a way to get out before I have to call a family meeting on her.”

“I wish you were here,” I whisper with a sob, “We all do.”

As if answered, the wind blows again cooling the hot trail of tears on my cheek. I sigh and hold myself for another moment, thinking about my family and their individual struggles. Suddenly, the sound of guitars strumming catches my attention. I look up to my right and see an elderly couple standing next to each other as a young girl sings over the grave. Her dark hair is pulled up in a bun with a few strands falling over her cheeks allowing me to see how young she is. Perhaps Valentina’s age? Her clothes are worn and faded in color, reminding me of my time in the streets.

I watch as her soft voice carries lovingly through the cemetery and creates a strange peace that otherwise should be filled with a turmoil of the living. The girl finishes the song and allows the sound to bounce around the empty plain before turning to shake hands with the elderly couple. The old man dabs his eyes with a handkerchief and shakes her hand kindly. The older woman smiles as well and hands her a few bills in return for her service. The girl shakes her head but is forced the money into her had by the older woman. I smile as the humble girl goes through the motions of the Holy Cross then bows her head to the elderly’s dead before leaving them be.

I watch curiously as the girl counts the bills and does the Holy Cross again with the money in her hand, a sign of a thankful worker, before putting the money in her front pants pocket. I look down at Léon and remember how kind he was and willing to help me when I was in that young lady’s shoes.

“I suppose this is a sign,” I tell him then look over at the girl, “Hey! Young lady! Come here, please!”

The girl looks up and stares at me for a second before jogging up to me. I let her catch her breath for a second before speaking.

“What are you doing here,” I ask, “They normally don’t let anyone in here, it’s a private cemetery.”

“Oh,” she shrugs, “A friend’s uncle works here, and he told me I could come here to earn some money.”

My eyebrows furrow, “It’s really hot though. Can’t you find something better?”

“I can. I mean I do—have a job,” she sighs, “I play in a mariachi band and get a cut from what we earn, but I need more for the rent of the place I have. I don’t want my mom to work too hard, she’s been through enough this past year. I want to help her, so she won’t worry as much.”

“Past year,” I ask, “What happened?”

The girl sighs, “Well, my dad died during work. We had our house, well trailer, taken away and had to come here. We found a place but the landlord, well, she wants the rent for this whole month by this weekend.”

“What,” I gape, “That’s completely unfair! Most landlords give a week…”

“Yeah she did, originally,” the girl rolls her eyes, “But my mom could only get a job at a bar, so when she found out she gave us until Saturday. Something about being a streetwalker.”

“That’s just three days from now,” I whisper, outrage at this unknown landlord for acting this way to a recent widow.

“Yeah,” the girl nods, looking at her scuffed-up shoes, “That’s why I’m doing whatever I can right now.”

I watch as the girl shifts the guitar strapped over her shoulder from one place to the other. Seeing her up close made it even more clear how young she is. My heart tugged at her sad but determined look. With a sigh, I turn to my guard.

“Can you let home know I have another errand to do and might not get home on time,” I shout to Alirio.

“Yes, ma’am I’ll let them know,” he calls back.

I turn to the girl and pull my hand out for her to shake, “Lucía, and you are?”

The girl blinks back at me then shakes my hand politely, “Juliana.”

I grin and motion for her to follow me, “I have a job you can do for me. I need someone to come shopping with me. I need an honest opinion on what I’m wearing, I know these men won’t have a reliable opinion other than blank staring. You can also help me carry my bags to the car.”

Julian turns to me with wide confused eyes, “I—”

I cut off the girl, “Don’t worry. I’ll pay you for your time. I’m sure it will be more than the amount you’ll get here.”

“Why,” she whispers.

“I know how it feels,” I answer simply, “Now come on, I actually do need help deciding.”

Juliana stares at me for a second then grins, “Thank you, Ms. Lucia. You don’t even know me, but…”

I smile at the girl and pull her by her elbow. The door is opened by my guard and I enter the vehicle with Juliana. The young woman stays quiet as she stares out the window, enjoying the view as we reach the closest boutiques I like to go to. By the time we reach the stores, Juliana is a bit calmer and responds to the few questions I ask her.

The first store is filled with expensive ball gowns, a perfect place to find a dress for my meeting with the Spanish Ambassador in a few weeks. Juliana is in awe as we enter and a saleswoman quickly greets us with an overly bright smile. I let her down gently and once she’s gone I turn to my new companion.

“Alright, what should we start with,” I ask her.

Juliana pauses and looks me over quickly before looking around. I watch as something catches her eye from a nearby rack. The brunette scurries to a rack full of red and maroon dresses and quickly goes through them until she finds what she’s looking for. A bright red dress with a backless design and a long train is presented to me with excited and nervous eyes.

“Try this one,” Juliana mumbles, “I think it will suit you.”

I grin at the timid girl and take the dress with no complaints, leaving her shocked at my silence. I walk towards the dressing rooms and turn around with an encouraging look.

“Perhaps look for other ones,” I encourage her, “I’m always looking for good dresses for events.”

This seems to calm the girl as she smiles back at me and continues to look over the racks. The afternoon goes on like this. From store to store, my new stylist picks out clothes for me to try and I do as she says. By the time dinner time arrives, I have many new bags filled with clothes and accessories. I’m shocked that this little thing of a girl knows how to style clothes in just the right way and to fit my style. I’m sure she has a good future if she pursues a career in fashion. As I tell her this, she blushes brightly and scuffs up her shoe on the concrete paths.

“I’m not joking Juliana,” I pat her arm, “You could be a professional stylist or even a designer.”

“I’m flattered, but I’m more concerned with the food on the table,” she rolls her eyes like the teenager she is, “Maybe someday but not soon.”

I sigh, completely understanding her situation. I could help her but a strong woman like her, like me, would not like handouts. She wants to make things from her own strength, not the strength of others. I look down to her shoes and see that the worn Converse are really in need of replacement. The edges are almost all the way unsealed from the cloth of the shoe. The bottoms are worn out to the point that the grooves are almost gone.

I suppose I could help her with this at least.

“You know, my stepdaughter could use some new shoes,” I glance over at the girl, “I think you might have the same size as her. How about coming to help me find her a new pair before we drop you off at home? What’s your shoe size?”

Juliana stares down at her lap then looks up at me with a reluctant smile, “Oh, I’m a size nine, I don’t know about matching since I have a big foot….but I guess I can help…”

With a grin, I pull her with me to the closest shoe store. We walk through the long shelves of shoes until I find the Converse section and conveniently walk through the section. I watch as Juliana stops walking and stares at a pair with desire in her eyes. The pair was all black except for colorful stars dotting the fabric. The girl then shakes her head and continues on into the shop. I grin and pull out the correct size. With a signal to Alirio to take my credit card and pay for the pair. I grin as he walks back to the car, most likely to hide the pair in Juliana’s guitar case while I make sure the girl is not looking.

Through my show, I manage to find pairs for everyone. Before long I have new pairs of shoes for Valentina, Guille, and Eva along with a few heels for me and the girls. Juliana helps me carry the magnitude of shoes to the clerk and we quickly leave the store after that.

“Thank you, Juliana,” I tell the girl once we’re on our way again, “I really enjoyed your company.”

“I enjoyed it too,” the girl tells me, “You remind me of my mom, easy to talk to.”

“Well she raised a very kind woman,” I tell her, “I really hope things get better for you two.”

Juliana shrugs without looking at me, “So do I. I just hope this job gives me enough money so she won’t worry about the rent.”

“This job,” I start, “Is it in a band that goes to events, gets booked, or is it in a restaurant or…”

“Oh, both,” she nods, “It’s at a restaurant and sometimes we’ll go to parties and such. That’s what Salvador said anyway, I haven’t played once yet. I only just got the outfits today.”

“Wait, you mean you haven’t played anywhere yet,” I ask.

She nods, “Not yet, Friday is my first day. Today I met the band and practiced until an hour before I met you.”

I nod, “Well now I’m interested. You must be very good if they think you’d be ready in two days.”

Juliana turns to me and furrows her eyebrows, “I didn’t think of it like that. I just figured they needed cash too, you know for expenses and such.”

I smile, “I don’t think so. They must have a lot of faith in you after hearing you. I know I liked your singing from what I heard in the cemetery. I want to hear more from you. I’m sure you sound even more lovely with a full band to accompany you.”

Juliana’s tan cheeks turn rosy as she shifts in embarrassment, “Um yeah, thanks.”

“We’re here, Seńorita Lućia,” the driver calls to us from the driver’s seat.

I look out the window and see the humble streets lined with buildings decorated with chipping paint and cracked walls. Juliana sighs and tugs her guitar case over her shoulder. As she begins to open the car door, I take her left hand and squeeze it as a mother would do. This gets her attention and she waits for me to speak.

“Take care of yourself, okay,” I insist, “I know you’re tough but be careful.”

Juliana looks at my hand and then back up, “Okay, I promise.”

I smile and kiss the girl’s cheek, gaining another full-on blush, and tuck into her hand a crisp hundred-dollar bill. Juliana gapes at me and I simply smile back at her. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, the girl leaves the car in a daze and makes her way into the small home. Once outside, she waves at the car and makes quick work of the many locks to get inside. The door closes with a large bang sound.

“Let’s go home,” I tell the driver once Juliana is inside.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18497122/chapters/44311702