#arc: contemporary

[kulay-ng-banaag]

A Gentle Reminder

One visits the other to rekindle the light. (Indonesia/Philippines) Warnings: -anxiety attacks (mild at best but the buildup is there) -smoking -politics (one side more explicitly than the other) Read on AO3 (registered users only)

[ Photo from Pinterest; have not yet traced back the photographer. ]

☼ ☼ ☼

The sound of running water cuts off as he turns the faucet knob. Glassware, ceramic dishes, and steel utensils clanked together in the sink bowl. The atmosphere was filled with the revving of motorbikes, the rusty booms of the azan signaling the hour of Isha, and the lucid voices that beamed from the newscast playing on the TV.

Once he finished scrubbing the table and the counters clean, he popped open a bottle of milk tea and flopped down on the sofa. Even with his tito Bikol’s cooking, he had never developed as strong a spice tolerance as he would have liked. Neither had he developed a language proficiency on par with the locals, despite the many letters exchanged and visits conducted. At least not in the same capacity as he had hundreds of years ago, but even the lingua francas of old were as mutable as clay, and the living things molded out of it.

Like all other things, nations changed over time. Philippines was no stranger to that truth.

All he had to do was keep tabs on the news from the other side of the screen, observing the inevitable winds of change. Once he foresaw the calm before the storm, he quickly scraped together in the wee hours enough necessities to suffice a week of travel. The closest to a formal notice he left behind was the blunt instructions he texted to a handful of staff handpicked by his gut feeling.

If anyone asks, I’m in Jakarta 👋🏽✈️

Nothing more.

He could fabricate a working visit out of nowhere, but it would almost certainly be followed up by a slew of questions regarding his rationales. His true intentions. His commitments to the burdens he never signed up for in the first place. People would express — as a request or not — their want for his presence, but rarely their need for it.

Not Indonesia. Not explicitly, at least. He gracefully wielded a commanding presence in public, but he was a closed book in the private sphere. A core of scorching hot earth buried deep that could explode with the right amount of pressure. Under the right conditions, a volcano could erupt violently. Once it did, there was no stopping its flow of destruction. The best Philippines could do was to be the ocean waves awaiting the incoming lava flow.

He listened intently to the stories broadcasted in front of him. It would be a mistake to call Philippines a tone-deaf airhead when he learned, painfully and repeatedly, to temper how his instincts would translate into his body language. In the comfort of his partner’s abode in the capital — at least for the time being — he was free to unravel the mask he wore in public.

The cracks began to form on the level-headed expression he maintained ever since he made landfall where he was not supposed to be. Through all the reports and commentaries as close to impartiality (or not) as they could get, he could see the wars of emotions taking place. Abstracted exhilaration on one end, ineffable grief on the other, and in between the buried pains had begun to fizzle and release steam. He would rather tune out the cries of despair and rage until they all dwindled together into empty static. With his arms crossed, his hands were already gripping tightly on his sleeves and he could already feel his heart beating as if it wanted to break out of his rib cage, away from the memories that were flooding in. Memories of pain and terror that he wished he could forget, but could not afford to.

What snapped him back to reality were the sounds of the front door clicking shut, followed by the taps of leather soles against the terracotta tiles that ascended to the upper floor. The silence of a lover in anguish was louder than the discordant harmonies of an agitated country.

He shut the TV off and made his way upstairs, down the hallway, and towards the open archway that led to the balcony. As he knocked his hand gently against the hardwood frame, a breeze wafted through the bamboo wind chimes above, almost as if Ibu Pertiwi wanted to ensure her guest was acknowledged.

Already, a lit kretek dangled between Indonesia’s fingers (one of which had an unmistakable ink stain at the tip). If Philippines had never cared about preserving his vocal cords, he would have succumbed to the vice as hard as Indonesia had. He only ever smoked when he was under extreme stress, and it surprised many at how infrequent that was.

The last time he lit one up for himself was two years ago, for the same reasons that Indonesia was going through now.

He sat down on the empty chair next to Indonesia’s, unfazed by the burning scent of bitter herbs and spices. Besides, the electric fan standing across them was whirring in their direction, out of respect for the other songbird that lived in the same space.

Philippines glanced up at the brightly-colored wicker cage hanging above on the opposite end of the balcony. He whistled a little tune, and the feathered resident within chirped back in reply.

“He’s healing up well.”

Philippines glanced back in surprise from hearing Indonesia speak up at last.

“I’ll be taking him to a rehab center in Kalimantan. That way, I’ll be around by the time they release him back to the wild.”

“That’s good to hear,” Philippines replied.

Indonesia pressed the end of the cigarette to his lips, then exhaled a puff of smoke. “I hope he doesn’t get caught again.”

“Oh.”

The soft smile on Philippines’ face faded from the realization. Often, Indonesia would foster rescues in critical conditions. At the time of the raid, the songbird was a sickly hatchling. Not only did it make a full recovery, but it chattered so much that the only bigger chatterbox was Philippines (who had pursed his lips like a child making tampo when Indonesia made the joke). Still, even with such a hopeful future ahead of it, there remained the risk of recapture, the violent return to a system that gambled on its ability to satisfy lofty aspirations, and swiftly disposed of those that failed to keep up.

Such a possibility seemed so far-fetched, yet the lack of certainty only served to tighten the suffocating grip of fear. Indonesia and Philippines knew that all too well. Centuries ago, when they had professed their love for one another, they were torn apart by conquerors from far away. Centuries later, when they had renewed their vows for one another, they were torn again by tyrants from within. Decades later, they broke free of those cages, only to return to a world they struggled to adapt to.

Now, they were birds at risk of recapture.

Minutes passed as they sat together in silence, struggling to keep themselves afloat lest they drowned from the millions of clashing voices that burned inside them both. Whatever the outcome, inevitable or not, Philippines would rather burn brightly in hell with Indonesia than abandon him, even if it meant he could at least march onward with most, if not all, pieces of himself intact. Maybe that was the problem, to begin with.

Yet, despite everything, the world continued its revolution around the sun. People continued to move forward with their lives, refusing to let anything or anyone take that away from them. The caged bird continued to sing, even in the face of an unambiguous future.

Indonesia exhaled a last puff of smoke before stubbing out the cigarette in the sand-filled ashtray. Philippines drew his knees up and scooted closer when he felt Indonesia lean onto him. He wrapped Indonesia’s arm around his and their hands slowly entwined together.

Philippines was the first to speak. “Abang?”

“Hm?”

“Do you remember what you told me two years ago? When I was going through what you’re going through now?”

Indonesia remained silent as he recalled.

By that point in time, Philippines was as battered and bruised as anyone, and had been bleeding all over for too long for comfort. Indonesia would easily admit that Philippines was luckier for breaking free a good decade earlier than he would. What he disliked to admit was how it had made him anxious when Philippines would not respond for days, weeks even. That had been his way of learning about how the final results would be of such paramount importance that its reverberations would be felt across the world.

Indonesia’s sole regret was that he did not see Philippines sooner, let alone immediately. Indonesia knew better than anyone, however, that Philippines, for all his exuberance, was the type to push people away when he was upset. He did not even want to celebrate his birthday that year. The next time Indonesia heard from him was when he sent a message that he was arriving a week ahead of the scheduled state visit.

Philippines had remained steadfast against all odds in the crucial months building up to that pivotal moment. He had snuck away to help distribute meals to volunteers who had lightened the load of an immense burden off his shoulders to the best of their abilities. Ultimately, he was desperate to get an up-close-and-personal glimpse of the numbers that were coming in.

He excused himself to get away from the monsters that manifested before his eyes. The flowers of hope still bloomed in many parts, but a bramble of sharp thorns had been growing at a suffocatingly exponential rate that threatened to engulf the whole garden. Philippines felt it crawl up onto his skin and pierce itself onto his very being, causing him to stumble in the empty hallway. It was brightly lit, but it grew increasingly cold and dark. The walls had begun to close in, threatening to crush him if the thorns did not yet thoroughly impale through him first. He wanted to cry out in pain. He wanted to scream for help, but he found himself unable to speak. Or maybe no one could hear him.

Suddenly, he sensed the light ding of a bell and a mild buzz from his pocket. With shaky hands, he pulled out his cell phone and stared at the message that flashed on his screen. He took a step back and steadied himself against the wall before slumping down to the floor. He sat there in the comfortable silence of the empty hallway. He gasped for breath as he held down the outburst of emotions that had welled up in him. A smile radiated across his face, trembling lips notwithstanding, as he rubbed the back of his hand against the tears that had flowed down.

Philippines remembered that moment. He would always remember those words that had been the lifeline he failed to admit that he needed. He wanted Indonesia to remember them, too, forevermore.

Indonesia let out a sigh before finally responding, “I remember.” He was caught by surprise when he felt a hand cup his face to wipe the tear that had trickled down, the faint scent of jasmine emanating from it. He turned to gaze back at the warm gaze of his beloved pearl, remembering how he longed to see them again after years of confined stillness. How he longed to hear his phone ping and see something, anything, new from Philippines. How he had been sitting in drab and stifling formalities. How he had stepped out for a breath of fresh air and passed that onwards to breathe back life into someone from over 2,700 kilometers away. How he wanted Philippines to have something to hold on to, no matter how bleak and dark it got.

He wished he could be kinder to himself, and he was grateful that Philippines was there to remind him.

They gently pressed their foreheads together, and Philippines leaned closer to press his lips against Indonesia’s. He whispered those same words Indonesia had told him before wrapping him in a tight embrace.

I love you, no matter the results.

☼ ☼ ☼

TRANSLATIONS:

azan: The Muslim call to daily prayer (salat). The last one, Isha, is at nighttime. In this age of modernity, loudspeakers play the azan from the mosques. tito: Uncle (Tagalog). It’s not restricted to addressing a biological relative; very often it’s used to address older men like how we use “sir” in English. Ibu Pertiwi: lit. “Mother Earth” in this case; A historical national personification of Indonesia. In my honest opinion, using the local name slapped harder than merely writing “mother nature.” kretek: Indonesian cigarette blend of tobacco and cloves as the main ingredients. tampo: Tricky to translate into words — it’s ten times easier to demonstrate in person. In this context, think of a parent telling their child they should eat their ampalaya (bitter gourd) and the child makes this face >:T abang: Older brother (Bahasa Indonesia); same as how kuya (Tagalog) is used to refer to older peers/upperclassmen (as in like the senior-year senpais, not the elite trapos if you get lmao). Sometimes also a casual way of calling people “sir.”

MISCELLANEOUS:

Frankly, I’ve only ever been to East Java (mostly in Surabaya), so if I missed out on any observable nuances from Jakarta, that’s on me. I also wrote this on a whim of inspiration and spite. In minimized general, Philippine cuisine builds on a sour base with salty or sweet complements. However, spicy is king in Northern and Southern Luzon, and Southern Mindanao. One of my classmates is Bicolana, so eating spicy Indonesian food is a no-brainer for her. Fortunately, they have plenty of milk tea in stock in convenience stores in Indonesia…for those who need a little help in neutralizing the spicy taste HAHA! Someday, I’ll talk about my bayan OCs. Not today. I need more time ironing them out; time I simply do not have right now. For now, Bikol is he/they. Going back to my trip, I saw so many households with pet birds. I ended up learning about how the popularity of songbird competitions drives wildlife trafficking. 🥲 Speaking of which, I headcanon Indonesia as a wildlife officer. Half to restore balance to the universe for the cursed fact that he’s technically a cop; the other half because if Piri is the musically-gifted Disney Princess, then Indo is the forest friend Disney Princess. Kalimantan because that is where they’re constructing the new capital city of Nusantara because Jakarta is sinking among other reasons. Since the dirt children have to work closely with their governments – whether they like it or not (or choose to lol) – Indo would have to eventually move in, assuming it comes through (just saying because my home city was supposed to be the new capital but clearly that flopped lol). The bird rehab center is very real. It’s my first time learning of the place — thanks to me getting insecure about making it up. 😭 Specifically, Piri was at the Parish Pastoral Council for Responsible Voting (PPCRV) command center. It’s non-partisan but affiliated with the Catholic Church in the country; we have another watchdog entity without any religious affiliation – the National Citizens' Movement for Free Election (NAMFREL). The volunteers were encoding election returns in tallying the votes. One of my dearest friends was fast enough to sign up. I had wanted to draw a 612 comic right after Halalan 2022. Scrapped it altogether because I was horribly depressed, so to say. Then, during one of those many low points, I cooked up that plot bunny when Indo texts Piri those words (the last phrase of the fic). Still, I couldn’t get a comic together any sooner, even if it was a shorter one featuring that plot bunny, as I’ve since returned to university. Following the news and social media posts on Indonesia’s post-elections definitely brought back painful memories. And that plot bunny. Originally, I wanted a far shorter but no less cathartic drabble. Ended up going really ham. I wish I could do more. I hope this is enough.

[bigjinx]

but you’re not a kicked dog, are you? and you don’t really need the armor, do you?

[kulay-ng-banaag]

This blog post neatly collected information on this popular souvenir. The particular news article can be read here.*

*Cabreza, Vicente. "After 'barrel man,' Baguio bares 'barrel Barbie.'" Philippine Daily Inquirer. March 29, 2007.

A short omake comic I made to explain the odd curiosity featured in ☆ LOST & FOUND ☆

[scryillo]

and also the concept page for my vash podcaster au :)

[propalahramota]

I love those slide videos on Tiktok that are like "Unsolved historical mysteries that live rent free in my head"

And the mysteries in question are 3 conspiracy theories and like 4 things that are actually well-researched, well-documented, and in fact, not a mystery.

[triviareads]

ARC Review of Give It To Me (Anthology) by Angelina M. Lopez

Rating: 4.5/5 Heat Level: 4.5/5 Publication Date: September 10th

My review:

Super sexy, gorgeously emotional, and centering Latinx love, Give It To Me has fourteen high-heat short stories and something for everyone— slice-of-life moments between long-term partners, first (and last) encounters, and a few cameos from your favorite Filthy Rich and Milagro Street characters.

First, my favorite: "Twelve Drummers" is, on it's face, about jewel thief Anna accidentally getting caught up in a magical Aztec (Mexica) orgy summoned by the beat of a teponaztli drum, joined by Juan Carlos, a museum guard she has a crush on. But it's so much more; Angelina wove in all these beautiful cultural details like the traditional attire and music of the Mexica. There is nothing fetishistic about this orgy; it's a celebration of the solstice, and on an emotional level, it's the first time Anna, a solitary jewel thief and one of the "unseen" all-Latina cleaning staff, is truly seen by someone.

"In the Stacks" also deserves a shoutout; a construction worker catches PhD student Rosalia getting herself off in a corner of the library, and he coaxes her to lean into the situation and let him watch (and more) by way of a very filthy-sweet mouth. It feels like recent contemporary romances are afraid to veer off the beaten path when it comes to dirty talk, so it just felt joyful and freeing to read a man with ZERO filter who just goes for it.

If you're a fan of Angelina's Lush Money and the following books in the Filthy Rich series, there are a few short stories that expand on that universe with romances for side characters AND we get The Vineyard Bang That Was Promised with Roxanne and Mateo, which was every bit as feral as I knew it would be.

If you enjoyed the Milagro Street series, there is a post-After Hours on Milagro Street scene that once again reminded me that Professor Jeremiah Post is a nice guy without being a Nice Guy, that nice guys can secretly be animals in the sack, and sometimes, a gal just wants to be tossed around like a sack of potatoes. And if you've read Full Moon Over Freedom, you'll remember how the summer after her freshman year of college, Gillian asked asked Nicky for sex lessons, but it was only ever alluded to in the books. Well, we finally get that scene here!

Overall:

For the people saying romances aren't political, they haven't read Angelina M. Lopez. The fourteen short stories felt as empowering and timely as they were sexy, which is no mean feat. I'd absolutely recommend this to any contemporary romance reader.

Also, here are the preorder links because look at that cover?? I'm definitely getting a paperback copy for myself.

Thank you to Angelina M. Lopez for the advanced copy in exchange for my honest review.

[inmyperfectworld]

📣 ATTENTION ALL BOOK AND POETRY LOVERS!📣

I'm looking for ARC readers for my upcoming book, Mental Warfare. This collection dives deep into the complexities of mental health, exploring themes like anxiety, PTSD, depression, and the search for light amidst the darkness. If you enjoy genres like Poetry, Mental Health, Self-Help, Inspirational, Emotional, and Psychological Thriller/Fiction, this book is for you!

Sign up to become apart of my ARC team today! 🔗https://forms.gle/BExUSzbR8fnbPFtE9

[mxxnlightwriting]

🎹 One Last Show Release Schedule 🎹

It's (almost) One Last Show time! I'm super excited for you to read this book, but before then, I'll share sneak peeks on the dates mentioned on this release schedule (made by yours truly) and some others that will remain a secret for now.

If you'd like to receive some of these little sneak peeks before everyone else, then consider joining my newsletter. You can find it on my pinned post alongside the one to apply for an eARC of this book!

🎹 About One Last Show ONE LAST SHOW is a YA coming-of-age novel about two ex-best friends who find themselves working alongside each other to bring their school musical to life. Will they rekindle their friendship or call it quits for good? If you enjoy HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL and HEARTSTOPPER, then this book might be up your alley. It will be released on December 19, 2024. Follow me if you don't want to miss any updates regarding this release!

ONE LAST SHOW Release Schedule Transcript:

Nov 11th - Blurb Reveal Nov 13th - ARC Sign-Up* Nov 22nd - Cover Reveal Dec 2nd - Trope Reveal Dec 3rd - Character Intro Dec 6th - Book Playlist Dec 10th - Character Intro Dec 19th - Ebook Release Dec 26th - Book Dedication Jan 16th - Paperback Release

*ARC Sign-Up is already open. Head over to my profile and click the 🔗 to find the form to apply!

[whimsicaldragonette]

Blog Tour: Looking for Love in All the Haunted Places by Claire Kann

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Publication Date: May 21, 2024

Welcome to the Looking for Love in All the Haunted Places Blog Tour with Berkley Publishing Group. (This Blog Tour post is also posted on my Wordpress book blog Whimsical Dragonette.)

Synopsis:

Lucky Hart has an affinity for the supernatural, but almost no one takes parapsychology seriously. She’s estranged from her family, has lost her friends, and has been rejected from graduate school—twice. But her big break finally arrives when she gets insider info about a troubled production company. Every actor on their new show mysteriously quits after spending three nights inside Hennessee House, an old Victorian with a notorious reputation.

This May, Claire Kann, the author of The Romantic Agenda returns to the page with LOOKING FOR LOVE IN ALL THE HAUNTED PLACES (Berkley Trade Paperback Original; May 21, 2024), a heartwarming, fun, and thrilling supernatural romance for fans of scary stories and love stories alike. Kann’s debut was loved for its asexual representation and diversity wrapped in a delightful love story. Her newest features the same things her fans know her for but adds an unforgettable paranormal aspect.

In the book, Lucky Hart falls in love unexpectedly on the set of a paranormal investigation show. But she’s soon forced to choose feelings or career when the mansion she’s examining doesn’t want to share her attention.

LOOKING FOR LOVE IN ALL THE HAUNTED PLACES is a sweet take on a haunted house story, giving readers a charming single-dad, workplace romance setup and highlighting the experiences of an Ace, Black heroine. If you can’t get enough Halloween all year round, or like your romance with some mystery on the side, this is the perfect novel for you.

My Rating: ★★★

*My Review and Favorite Quotes below the cut.

My Review:

I enjoyed this story. It was sweet and wholesome and just a tad spooky, with a plucky protagonist, a super sweet single dad, and an adorable kiddo. Plus some other really great characters I wish we'd gotten to know more about. And Hennessee House of course.

While I for the most part enjoyed reading this, it was far too long and sometimes really dragged. It took me forever to finish reading it. If it had been shorter, I think I would have enjoyed it more. There's not enough substance there to warrant the length imo.

I really liked Georgia and Xander and I wish we'd gotten more of them. They balanced out Lucky and Maverick's intense insta-love thing they had going on.

I liked the asexual representation, although it sometimes got a little preachy and didn't always 100% make sense to me. But I'm willing to chalk that up to "everyone experiences asexuality differently." That's definitely a type of queer rep we don't often get in romance books so kudos to the author for including it as an integral part of Lucky's romantic experience and not just a sidenote.

The supernatural aspect I enjoyed but found to be very confusing at times. There were multiple times while I was reading that I got tripped up and had to stop and go 'wait, what?' because suddenly I had no idea what was going on.

The first time it happened was at the very beginning when Lucky is lying to Xander and team in hopes of getting the job. She tells the reader that she's lying, but not what the truth is or why it's important for her to lie, and I never felt like the lying was necessary. Lucky doesn't always explain herself very clearly, and she sometimes assumes that people will understand things when they (and the reader) definitely don't.

It was a fun story, not too scary, with just enough supernatural elements to be really unique. I think cutting a little of the length and adding in more of Georgia and Xander could have made it even better.

*Thanks to NetGalley and Berkley for providing an early copy for review.

Favorite Quotes:

A year ago, if someone told Lucky her experience being a nanny would inevitably lead to making a ten-year-old her partner-in-crime in a sentient house, she absolutely would've believed it.

[a-skirmish-of-wit-and-lit]

Book Review: The Rom-Commers by Katherine Center

With The Rom-Commers, Katherine Center has officially cemented herself as one of my must-read authors. Am I a sucker for romcoms about writers? Yes. Will I read hundreds upon hundreds of stories about writers falling in love while they're writing? Also yes. (What can I say? I'm predictable like that.)

Even so, there was something so endearing, amusing, and surprisingly moving about this story featuring two screenwriters - one, an amateur named Emma Wheeler who has put her dreams on hold for a decade to be her father's sole caretaker only to now land the writing opportunity of a lifetime with her idol; the other, a Hollywood legend named Charlie Yates who has won multiple literary awards but can't seem to write a good romcom because he doesn't believe in love, because he thinks it's nothing more than a senseless, distracting affectation.

All in all, this was a grumpy-sunshine, opposites attract, workplace DESSERT of a story. Not only were Emma and Charlie stuck together inside the same house for six weeks, but there was witty banter, line dancing, swimming pool antics, kisses for "research," and an adorable but food-resistant guinea pig called Cuthbert. On top of that, there was nuanced sensitivity paid to issues surrounding ailing health, devastating loss, and family, which I felt added significant weight to the story as well as to the characters.

This was so cute, so sweet! Funny in spades, too. It's definitely the sort of book that makes readers believe, with their whole hearts, that love stories matter. So three cheers to that!

Thank you NetGalley and St. Martin's Press for the ARC in exchange for my review.

4/5 stars

**Follow me on Goodreads

[kulay-ng-banaag]

☆ LOST & FOUND ☆: What A Concept!

CW: war, blood, death, sharp objects

I revised the comic art. Fixed anatomy here and there, adjusted lighting, BACKGROUNDS!

Working on this comic series will be slowed down significantly. The results of Halalan 2022 was crushing, to say the least. That and college.

I disliked having to look back at the stuff I made, even if it was for good intentions. One hot year since first posting the comic, I allowed myself to truly peruse this comic again. Not only did it resonate still, but it also resonated so much stronger now too. Who would have thought I needed to remind myself too?

I was, and up to now, in disbelief that I could pull off an insanely ambitious project, for a hobbyist of my skill level, in such an unrealistically short amount of time (never again!!!). Ironically, it was after I drilled myself into making the comic that my art style got cleaner and more consistent (I wasn't when it came to characters' faces because I was still figuring out how exactly I want to draw them).

Only the writing was left unchanged. I would crawl into a ball of shyness still about the comic, but nonetheless, I remained very proud of it. I also made a few corrections regarding historic information here and there, as well as dug up as many primary sources as I could access. What amazed me was that there was still no need to make any changes to the story.

At the end of it all, I had no regrets about following my instincts to let this comic happen. Not only did I learn a great deal about the process but I also grew to love it. The only thing stressful about it was the fact that I had to juggle this literal passion project with other commitments. If I had less of the latter, you would see me grind through my art.

☼ ☼ ☼

First off, I hoped that the cover illustration did not give off the impression of a 1Px2P self-cest doujin (I don't go there lmao). I was aiming to show the polarities in Piri’s character, the “blue vs. red” side if you would. The title font I used was Kawit.

I initially wanted to use the blue uniform for that spicy color contrast when it got stained in blood. I chose the khaki shade instead for insurrection!Piri because the lighter shade looked better in juxtaposition with his canon (present-day) sailor uniform.

I realized too late that the cape colors, in trying to create the illusion of the PH flag, did not follow the correct vertical orientation. I did not want to alter the entire drawing anymore so I left it that way. It appears in the correct orientation if you flip the image around, though! HA!!

☼ ☼ ☼

Piri took the bus because god forbid I had to draw him driving solo through Manila traffic. No thank you.

Piri could drive but he did not own a car. No matter how bad it got, he was content with opting for public transportation. He was partial to walking on his own two feet (in more ways than one).

Piri was very clearly tired, a far cry from his canon bubbly persona. Understandably so when he took an early bus trip. Yet even after hitting up a chat with friends, he was clearly worn down emotionally too.

I set these panels in violet, the color produced when you mixed blue and red. To be specific, I was aiming for the blue-violet end.

When I decided to make a comic about a nation’s flag, I never figured that I would mean that in more ways than one. I swear my choices of color palettes for scenes were pure serendipity!

Ask any Filipino what the blue side of our flag means and chances are peace will be the first word we'll tell you.

Piri wanted to tune himself out from the rest of the world. He wanted to spend just one day getting some “peace and quiet” for himself. He was very good at keeping up a face. For peace’s sake, he had to; but even in those quiet moments, one did not always truly feel “at peace.” Piri was still bracing himself for how he would be spending the rest of the day and it left him a bundle of mixed emotions.

At least he seemed convincingly cheerful enough to his peers.

☼ ☼ ☼

At last, Piri was free of the long bus journey out of the metro. He deserved to chill before diving into the moment of angst!

The street snack he had was kwek-kwek.

(For shit and giggles, let me share this innuendo of a song.)

Featured Locations (L to R)

Kennon Road (there was a view spot for picture-taking)

Session Road (a shopping district; I used a photo of the night market situated there)

Burnham Park (it had a lake where visitors could go boating)

☼ ☼ ☼

I initially wanted to write the text message in Tagalog but I was wary that it might be too harsh, even if the harshness was the point (it sounded a lot harsher in Tagalog, believe me).

It looked like it was a day of harsh noon sunlight. The scorching heat of the sun was always a nuisance even for those born and bred in this humid, tropical archipelago. It definitely got to Piri.

It was definitely the type of day where one would rather be hidden away from the burning sunlight, lest it shone on something one would rather keep to themselves.

I did not mind Himaruya using funky “unnatural” eye colors for the SEAsians (even though that was usually on drawing funky art with funky palettes) since flipping on canon was a free choice. Alas, I could not resist going off my own way too.

You know how dark brown eyes can sometimes appear golden (technically amber) when facing bright sunlight? Funny how that color sure revealed itself in a bad time. Funny also that gold was the color of the sun in the PH flag. I’m telling you all, Piri had a sunny disposition in more ways than one.

(Y’alls really thought I’d stop at the blue and red?)

☼ ☼ ☼

Now we could see the reason Piri went to Baguio for his birthday.

The location was a real museum that housed some of our earliest flags for public viewing! The name of the place?... The Aguinaldo Museum.

Oh to not live under someone else’s shadow.

I owed all Filipinos that read my comic my sincerest apologies for this part. This museum was different from the Aguinaldo Shrine in Cavite. It was specially built because the colder temperatures of Baguio made for an ideal environment for textile preservation.

Had it not been for the pandemic, I would have made a spontaneous trip to confirm the interior layout for myself. Instead, I relied on photographs and videos from bloggers who made their own visits. What I c ould vouch for certain was that the flag has to be kept in a dark room because old textiles faded from the sun's UV rays. I suppose they were aiming for a more serious mood with the choice of room lighting color.

It was definitely violet again. Red-violet this time.

Ask any Filipino what the red side of our flag means and, chances were, war was the first word we answered, but I wanted to go for a more neutral term: Conflict.

One could only imagine the inner conflicts Piri was going through at that moment, especially when he knew the truth.

☼ ☼ ☼

(I am not yet a legit historian and the pandemic severely limited how much more I could gather as someone who also likes to read history for leisure so I had to completely rely on what I could find online only.)

Long story short for my non-Filo followers, plenty of us Filipinos (if not most) considered Aguinaldo a very problematic figure in our history. It would not be the full picture, but the research I picked up for the comic would help give the gist as to why.

First off, my reasons for covering up the faces of the cameos of historical figures were:

I wanted to avoid drawing Aguinaldo’s face. By extension I had to apply the same trick for the others to avoid bias.

I got lazy to draw so many faces.

It was a storytelling trick of sorts by diverting the reader’s attention to Piri instead; “Hey, look away from these guys and go back to the real star of the story that’s also in the same panel!”

This was Piri’s story after all. This was his story.

The featured precolonial flag was allegedly the pennant of the Tondo polity*. Allegedly because I could not trace back primary sources to back it up.

*The term used was “bayan” and it was more leniently used to refer to any of the independent states that co-existed during the precolonial era (haha, “independent”). Think of how multiple German states existed pre-unification. No, there were no monarchies (in the strictest sense) in precolonial Philippines, so technically Tondo, Maynila, etc. were not “kingdoms.” Additionally, precolonial Philippines in my own lore also did not go by the name “Tondo.” He does have a tito Tondo.

I decided to feature that flag anyway because, even if it might not necessarily be true, there must be a reason Piri has that particular memory (*coughs* Andres Bonifacio was a Tondo boy).

In the flashback sequence, the first flag seen was the version of the Katipunan flag first shown at the 1897 Naic Assembly.

This was not the first flag of the Katipunan. I depicted a later version because the first one constituted the organization's acronym in white on a red background. The complete name of the organization was: Ang Kataas-taasan, Kagalang-galangang Katipunan ng mga Anak ng Bayan (The Supreme and Venerable Association of the Children of the Nation).

I can assure you all that the Katipunan was NOT the same organization nor had any connections whatsoever with a certain white supremacist group.

☼ ☼ ☼

The guy with (baby Katipunero!) Piri was Feliciano Jocson. Some claimed he was inspired to draft up a design after seeing the flag of Cuba in the newspaper (that’s right, folks. Cuba/Piri valid!). Sadly, there was no info on the precise drafts that Jocson had, but one could clearly see how the del Pilar flag took cues from that of Cuba. It was called such because Gregorio del Pilar (aka Goyo) made one for himself as a treat for his rank promotion.

“Wait, so how did it go from Jocson to del Pilar?” Alas, I wish I knew because there was frustratingly little information to be found on Jocson, even though he was supposed to be one of the Katipunan’s leading members. He was big enough of a deal that he was bound to strike a chord when he protested the Pact of Biak-na-Bato was only agreed upon amongst Aguinaldo’s inner circle.

It did not help that Jocson simply went off the radar when del Pilar was sent to arrest him.

Del Pilar was loyal to Aguinaldo.

ADDENDUM (01/26/23)

☼ ☼ ☼

While exiled in Hong Kong, Aguinaldo approached Marcela Agoncillo to create the flag closest to the version we would know today.

Aside from the fact that I wanted Piri to be present for the making of the flag, he had his reasons for joining Aguinaldo in Hong Kong, which I ought to elaborate on in a future comic.

Piri went fabric shopping with Lorenza, Agoncillo’s eldest daughter. Also, did you know about how Filipinos pointed with their lips? That was what he was doing. 😗👉

The flag was first flown at the port in Cavite, just shortly before the Battle of Alapan (May 28, 1898). Then it was flown again on the declaration of Independence in Kawit, on 612 1898.

Look at how happy Piri was now that he got a flag of HIS OWN.

Did he get to own it though?

☼ ☼ ☼

It was a fairly big deal when there were testimonies that Jocson was the real brain behind the (early) design. Although Aguinaldo never claimed that he designed the flag, his contemporaries had the tendency to give him the credit for it, if only because he was the one who made the pitch to Agoncillo.

However, that only partly explained why anyone would put the original flag under the custody of a space dedicated to Aguinaldo. 2 flags contested for the title of being the true original: the Aguinaldo-Suntay flag, and the Agoncillo flag.

(L: top - Aguinaldo-Suntay, bottom - Agoncillo; R: Agoncillo, closeup)

The Aguinaldo-Suntay flag had additional embroidery between the stripes. The Agoncillo flag had faces drawn on both the sun and the stars, and these were also aligned to the flag vertically.

“But wouldn’t the real og flag be the one named Agoncillo? Why do we have to acknowledge the other one?” That was because:

It was still one of our flags.

The thing was that Aguinaldo himself was the one who reported that the PH flag went missing. Twice.

I had to preserve my joke from the original Twitter thread.

In 1919, he said it got lost within the Caraballo mountain range in Nueva Vizcaya. Then in 1925, he wrote to an officer that it got lost along Tayug (Pangasinan). In both instances, he mentioned that the losses occurred during his retreat from the Americans.

The Philippine-American War was from 1899-1902.

Now that made it easier to trace back events! I included a map reference of troop movements as well as one I redrew myself in Google Maps to show where the Caraballo Mountains were.

It would seem that Aguinaldo never went anywhere near that portion of the region…

☼ ☼ ☼

After the war, one of Marcela’s daughters stepped forward to claim that Aguinaldo actually had the flag safely stored away in a vault. The flag was conveniently brought out for display at the museum. Additionally, the current extant copy of the Agoncillo flag might only be a replica of the “true original,” if only because its threads were found to be cotton and contradicted statements that the original flag was made of silk.

To add to the confusion, one of Aguinaldo’s own descendants claimed that the flag loss was a red herring from Aguinaldo himself. However, a flag (if not the flag) was returned to Aguinaldo circa 1930. Since then, he never let it out of his sight, to the point that he would sleep next to it. When he passed away, his daughter found the flag under his deathbed.

Personally, I believe that Aguinaldo took after del Pilar and made his own banner as well, but even I could not find information on when the Aguinaldo-Suntay flag was made. In my frustrations to piece it all together, I came up with that banger line on conflicting narratives.

☼ ☼ ☼

Well wasn’t that a heck of a ride through memory lane? Sadly, it was time for Piri to go home (but wasn’t he already?), but not without buying the promised barrel man!

He left by sunset because it was prettier to draw and it made the “keeping things in the dark” line slap harder. A play on finding closure, in finding peace in all that red.

Remember what the red stood for?

Oops, another flashback!

☼ ☼ ☼

Aguinaldo wanted to transfer his base from Tarlac to Bayombong. He sent some troops, alongside a substantial portion of their equipment and supplies, ahead of him to clear the path. Tayug just happened to be along the way.

The 2nd Division scouts of the American army successfully intercepted the message. Spanish prisoners assured their American liberators that its writing was true. Gen. Henry Ware Lawton was determined to mobilize their troops as quickly as possible, in spite of the serious deficit in supplies.

(William H. Young was under Lawton's command.)

The American side had reasons to be hesitant about the plan that was put forth. They refused to believe that Aguinaldo would give up the railroad, which was used to mobilize his supplies as well as the PH Republic's treasury. It was akin to Aguinaldo abandoning his own resources. The top priority was to capture Aguinaldo because even the American troops themselves could not afford to waste any more of their already diminished resources.

Before I continue, let's grab the troop movement map again and take another look at the purple and red lines.

Notice how there were two places named Bayombong (red line, crossing Tayug) and Bayambang (purple line, with a railroad path).

Notice how Aguinaldo's route initially followed the same as Lawton's, but diverged. It was easy to assume that the change of course was to avoid the Americans at all cost, yet they themselves had a hard time tracking him. Why?

[ This next part is my personal and non-professionally backed opinion. Believe me, I wish I had the academic credentials and the freedom to dig for evidence of the PH troops' war plans from their side. ]

Perhaps that tiny linguistic difference was an intentional red herring. The O and A in Filipino can actually be tricky to discern, depending on your enunciation. My reference did not specify either if the intercepted message was a written or a verbal account (and if the latter, it was extracted from the captured individuals). Hence, the possible mix-up between Bayombong and Bayambang. Perhaps the Americans were wrong to assume that Aguinaldo was unwilling to travel without his supply line, which would also be a serious risk on his part. It meant he was willing to buy time for himself at the cost of his own resources, both material and human. Piri would have thought of it as an outrageous plan as well. And that was why he chose to chaperone his countrymen over his general. Who was going to protect them?

In the end it was a risk that paid off for the Americans.

(Col. Henry Walton Wessels was under Lawton’s command).

☼ ☼ ☼

It was noteworthy that Aguinaldo stated the flag got lost somewhere in Tayug, but not necessarily in Tayug.

I imagined it might have been with someone already in transit out of Tayug. Someone who was busy leading his fellow soldiers. Someone who was determined to see his people outlast the war.

I definitely owed every reader an apology if they were still rattled by this section of the comic. It was a huge risk to let this (partly) be a war story, all the more through the lens of Hetalia. I am not ignorant of the shit people in this fandom were (and are) capable of.

However, I have since learned that it is one thing to be an ally for social justice, and it is a whole ‘nother nuisance when one must always feel the need to intervene for others for the sake of honoring their idea of peace and justice.

Now if that ain’t the Philippine-American War in a nutshell.

(Just a nutshell. Someday I’ll come back around to include HWS America’s perspective. I condemn US imperialism as much as I condemn misinformation arising from avoidance of the US’ prominent role in PH history.)

☼ ☼ ☼

At the end of the day, this was still a story about the flag, about the road to independence. As shitty as Aguinaldo and the war crimes of the Americans were, they all played a part in what independence meant for Piri.

What right do we have to dictate his story for him?

I would admit this section was where the fiction came in. I did not find specifics on the number of lives lost on both sides (with the Tayug takeover at least). In fairness, it was not like any of us would know. We were not there for whatever happened that day.

I was aware that war/armed conflict was a very sensitive topic and even I was not too keen on defaulting to the peace/war meanings for the stripes on the PH flag. Thankfully there is one more analogy for the red side that I wanted to raise: Blood.

I knew terms such as “patriotism” and “valor” were used, but they were often in a phrasing along the lines of “being unafraid to defend one’s homeland up to the last drop of blood.” As honorable as it was, it did not change the fact that it’s a double-edged sword (heh), especially for Piri.

The Tayug takeover was in November 1899. Antonio Luna was assassinated in June that same year. One of the most memorable characters in Philippine history, in Piri’s story, gone.

By then, Piri was at breaking point.

Morale tanked and the losses just kept climbing. Almost immediately after, Aguinaldo switched to guerrilla warfare. A last-resort tactic that was only utilized when the troops were toeing the breaking point. When people were desperate to win, so desperate that nothing would stop them, no matter the risks.

Look at all that bloodshed. Who would have thought that someone who always seemed to look at the bright side of things could also retain a vicious side?

☼ ☼ ☼

Forever grateful that I dug deep enough to confirm that this fight happened in the afternoon. Look at Piri eyes burning brightly like the golden sun, burning in righteous fury.

Bayang magiliw po talaga.

The title of the national anthem was Lupang Hinirang. I just cited the opening line.

Furthermore, the official translation was “land of the morning,” but the literal translation of magiliw was “tender/affectionate/friendly.” It was an apt description for when one saw the morning sun rising over the horizon, but sunlight was also not always gentle. Soaking in too much of it could harm you.

Oof, now that was a roast.

FIRE MAY BE THE GIVER OF LIFE BUT IT COULD ALSO DESTROY!

BEWARE OF FLYING TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN LEST YOU BURNED YOURSELF OUT!

Okay that’s enough sun symbolism.

The blood splatters were exaggerated. I let it be that way.

We were still seeing things from Piri’s perspective. You would not see clearly when you were in a frenzied rage. It did not help that seeing all the blood just enabled it too. He surely bottled up his bloodlust for far too long…

(Am I a freak for playing with this sort of character complexity. Yeah. Bluntly, I'm too desensitized when it came to emotional extremities. I learned to live with it. The same could be said for these nation trashbags--I mean, personifications.)

☼ ☼ ☼ Letting Piri go into sword-slashing mode was a personal artistic choice.

I was always finding accounts of how the Americans had the superior guns while the Filipinos had the superior knives. Bolo knives, specifically.

Admittedly the only films I had seen that depicted this period were Heneral Luna (2015) and Goyo (2018), but in both films, even if characters had swords on their person, not once did any of them show our prowess with the blade. Not once. By my artistic hand, I elected to feed myself.

I knew jackshit about how firearms work but I highly doubted that anyone could aim right with a rifle when they just lost an eye. Besides, if Piri’s got a sword on him and he still got the moves, rusty as they may be compared to ~300 years ago, what was stopping him?

“But they used BOLO KNIVES, not SWORDS.” Well clearly Piri’s got his own sword!

Because he’s the anime protagonist. I’m kidding. Don’t worry. It would not be the last appearance of that particular blade.

Story for another day.

☼ ☼ ☼

Don’t you just hate it when you jolted awake from your ride coming to a sudden halt, because your bus driver had no manners at the wheel?

The one blessing to that was that Piri snapped out of a nightmare. A war flashback, if you will.

Piri decided he had enough of the bus and rode a jeep instead. I wanted to respect the repeating flag symbolism throughout the story with the choice of background music playing.

Piri then got off to buy some birthday mamon, like the frugal bakla he was (mamon was also a euphemism for gay men).

Commuting in the PH was not “one-way.” More often than not, people had to take more than one mode of transportation. Sometimes, that mode of transportation was a trike ride that happened to be loaded with neon lights and played music on full blast. It was not all terrible, but it could be overwhelming at times.

Finally, our boy was home sweet home (always has been).

Incorporating tarsier anatomy into my art style had since worked out beautifully. I wanted to draw Pien with the same cheeky little gremlin energy as this scientific illustration.

Most photos show them at rest, but look at this little fella ready to square up!

I wished I showed more of the next room but the details were not necessary to this particular story. I would confirm it was a storage room. My own homage to the iconic storage chapter/episode (Ang Paglilinis ng Bodega AHAHAHAKLSGJHLDKSHASKSKSKSKSKSKS).

Look at all that blue in the room! What was Piri going through this time?

The blue side of the flag stood for peace, but what else came to mind when thinking of what the color represented? What were the odds that sadness was one of those other meanings?

HWS PHILIPPINES?!?!!! A MAN CANONICALLY BRIGHT AND CHEERFUL AND ENTHUSIASTIC AND ALWAYS SO FULL OF ENERGY AND LIFE AND OPTIMISM??????? SAD?!?!?!?!?!?!! DEPRESSED?!?!?!?!!!!!!

Yeah, like any human being would, and yet he was also not like any human being.

It was not just any kind of sadness too. It was melancholy from having to face the truth once more. The truth that, even after all these centuries, Piri still did not know what kind of person he should be.

Man, do I love making these dirt children go into a major identity crisis. The comic was the perfect opportunity to do exactly that. I mean, come on! The flag! The very object that represented these nations! What represented them! What defined them!

Y’all really thought I wanted to draw insurrection!Piri for the sake of depicting him going absolutely feral? Nah, that was totally one of the reasons, just not the only reason.

I held no hate for canon Piri’s personality at all because it was still so relatable as a Filipino! Yet here be a Filipino Hetalia fan clowning around by providing a more polarizing side of Piri. So unfamiliar. So divergent from his canon, true personality (or what you know to be true). It was almost as if he lost his mind at that moment.

But that was still Piri, right? Of course!

It just so happened that what happened, happened. People underwent certain emotions more intensely in certain situations. Welcome to the human condition.

Although he was not exactly human either.

☼ ☼ ☼

This was also me acknowledging two things: How Filipinos were known for our resilience in the face of adversity, and how even that unyielding resilience could backfire.

Even that resilience nearly killed Piri himself. He nearly burned himself out. He nearly lost himself in the process.

But how could we even gauge that? Just how much did we know about Piri? As a person? Exactly what kind of person was Piri supposed to be? What happened when we took away all the things that maked Piri "the Philippines"? Who are we left with?

"Hold up! Shouldn’t we just leave that decision up to Piri himself?" But you know how we say it was the people that made up a nation?

How ironic it was to always let other people make decisions for you. It makes you think if Piri truly “won" his independence.

If reading all those conflicting narratives made you feel frustrated, imagine how it was for Piri. How tiring it must be to have your narrative stolen, lost, and forgotten, over and over again.

For all the inquiries on his history, why hadn’t anyone asked for his story?

☼ ☼ ☼

Now you know how this became a 612 story. A story about independence. A story about the PH flag. How flags are born as a symbol of independence.

Let’s go check back in on the very person for whom that flag stood for.

Another flashback! Look at that sunrise! Or maybe not, Piri sure was not in the mood.

There was the red again. A nicer kind, too. And so was the warrior side of Piri you’ve all been formally introduced to, except you were seeing a warrior that was clearly exhausted and weary.

I won’t lie, letting the flag be returned like that felt too easy of a plot move, but I figured I would rather uphold the mystery.

It begged the question: Why would he just withhold the truth like that? Why didn’t he ever speak up? Why would he make that choice.

...Because he can. Let him.

Why not? That was what he had been fighting for all these years, right? To be his own person?

So what if you just saw how ruthless he could be? It was still Piri. It was not like the rest of him would completely go away as well. Besides, what choice did he have at that time?

It’s agonizing how, for all the times people invoked his name in their actions, Piri never seemed to be allowed to do things for himself. Maybe that was why he would rather keep quiet about the truth. How, all these years, he had been keeping what was rightfully his.

Because the bigger truth was that he still did not know what it means to be independent. He still did not know what it meant to be his own person. He still did not know what kind of person he should be, or wanted to be.

Bayan o sarili? Eh paano na ba kung ikaw mismo ang bayan?

☼ ☼ ☼

Was the flag really just returned to him like that? Who knows? You sure don’t.

Even Piri was surprised at how that happened, but who cared how it happened? At least it was returned.

It’s funny how things you lost would find their way back to you when you stopped looking for them.

I scrapped this to save on page count, but I wanted to show Agoncillo rushing to the McCulloch ship (that Aguinaldo boarded on the trip back to Cavite) the flag in time. It was sewn within 5 days, with little sleep on her end, but she was successful in personally handing over the flag to Aguinaldo.

I’m flipping on that fact and changing it to Piri. IT’S HIS FLAG AFTER ALL!

The dialogue I had in mind was Piri asking Agoncillo what the rush was for and she responded that she had just finished the flag.

You would then see the joy in Piri’s eyes but then he realized that Agoncillo pushed herself in finishing it as soon as possible. He would tell her that there was no need to, but she reassured him that she would be alright. It was all for him.

Once again, I dissed on the actual orientation of the flag, but damn did I go hardcore with the imagery!

THE SUN SHINING BEHIND CENTER PIRI! PIRI BASKING IN THE WARMTH OF A NEW DAY DAWNING FOR THE RED! PIRI MAKING PEACE WITH THE UNCERTAINTY FOR THE BLUE!

"Uncertainty?"

This was still a story about the flag, and who it represented. I will always love and cherish canon Piri unconditionally, but I swear there was so much more to his character. It helped when you knew too well that our flag had a red side too. Thinking about it now, it was weird how Filipinos' automatic first response in describing what the red represents was war.

Thank god Pixiv has an R-18G option. This was not something minors would grasp immediately, but man my people had been through a lot.

By the time our flag (in the form we know today) came to be, we literally just got out of one war only to get dragged into another. It made you think how much of a formative period that had been for Piri.

Almost as if he was in a much bigger war with himself.

“WITH HIMSELF?!”

This was also a story about independence. Our fight for independence. Piri’s fight for independence. His independence. But what did that even mean when he could not even figure out what kind of person he wanted to be?

It grew worse because if you thought jumping from one war to another in roughly half a year was bad enough, so much simultaneous in-fighting happened. It showed in how our own flag came to be, and that was just a fragment of that in-fighting. PH history was littered with inner conflicts.

Imagine how all that affected Piri.

Imagine just how tired and frustrated and progressively angry he must have been in having to deal with his own people throwing fire at each other over and over again due to all of the conflicts of interest in how best to win their independence. His independence. Imagine how much harder it got for Piri to keep to himself. How much it hurt to never openly admit his feelings. How he hated that he could never decide for himself to do. How he could not do whatever he wanted. How he never knew know what it felt like to be independent. Be his own person. Be a person. Maybe that’s one more reason why he snapped so hard in that fight.

And why shouldn’t he fight back? Didn’t he have every right to fight back? To stand up for himself? To take back what was rightfully his? His right to self-sovereignty that was stolen from him?

“BUT WHAT HE DID WAS WRONG!”

(I pull a reverse Uno card.) So now YOU get to decide for him too? YOU get to decide how Piri should have acted? YOU get to decide what kind of person Piri should be because all you know is his good-vibes-only side?

(Did I just go meta as an author? Yes I did. I clowned you all.)

☼ ☼ ☼

Our flag had two stripes, after all. Both with their own meanings.

What did they mean for Piri? What did he know about the kind of person he was supposed to be? Or wanted to be?

It sounded like he did not have the answer to that question, even up to now. All the more when he lived his life letting others make the decisions for him. He had seen all the stupid shit his own people were (and are) capable of. He was not ignorant.

Yet, even with all the shitty people, there were still the good ones too. Piri would remember them all. Even if their names faded out of the history books, or were excluded. Maybe all Piri needed was a gentle reminder to himself. That he did not have to go through it all alone. That it was normal to feel uncertain about yourself. That even if life was full of uncertainties, there were some things that were a certain keeper. Like the people that got you to where you were now. Like your own chaotic circle of friends that sure know how to brighten your day. Your found family. The bonds that were thicker than blood. Maybe he just needed to remind himself that hope was not lost.

☼ ☼ ☼

Be glad I preferred happy endings.

I was aware that if we started the count at 1898, Piri would be 123 years old. To me, Piri was technically much older. He had been, physically, a young adult for a really long time.

Would Piri do a live video in that kind of lighting setup? Absolutely. It was all about the aesthetic. How else could I pull off that banger fade-out too?

The gold was back too. Safe to say he still got that fire in him. Quite the heartwarming reminder.

The best birthday treat.

☼ ☼ ☼

Image Credits

Biomedical Ephemera (Tumblr), boyingski (Blogspot), Emilio Aguinaldo Museum (Facebook), Friend Cheap Menu, National Historical Commission of the Philippines, Philippine Cultural Education, Presidential Museum & Library (Malacañang), Tempo PH, watawat(dot)net - BROKEN SITE, Wikipedia, Yahoo! News (article by Norman Sison, VERA Files), ZEN Rooms

Sources

(The links for the Presidential Museum & Library are broken, but the uniform infographic has been preserved on archive.org)

Agbayani, Eugemio, III. “The Original Philippine Flag, according to Miss Marcela Agoncillo.” National Historical Commission of the Philippines. June 6, 2017. https://nhcp.gov.ph/original-philippine-flag-according-miss-marcela-agoncillo/. Alvarez, Amorico M., and Nicolas G. Ricafrente. “The First Unfurling of the Philippine National Flag.” Philippine Center for Masonic Studies. Accessed March 01, 2022. http://www.philippinemasonry.org/first-unfurling-of-the-philippine-flag.html. Arevalo, Carminda R. “The Philippine Flag: Symbol of our Sovereignty and Solidarity.” National Historical Commission of the Philippines. September 6, 2012. https://nhcp.gov.ph/the-philippine-flag-symbol-of-our-sovereignty-and-solidarity/. Cabreza, Vicente. “In Baguio museum, flags celebrate victories,” Philippine Daily Inquirer, June 12, 2015. https://newsinfo.inquirer.net/697868/in-baguio-museum-flags-celebrate-victories. “A Graphic Timeline of the Philippine-American War (Part Three).” Presidential Museum and Library. Accessed May 29, 2022. http://malacanang.gov.ph/8298-a-graphic-timeline-of-the-philippine-american-war-part-three/. “Infographic: Army of the First Philippine Republic.” Presidential Museum and Library. Accessed May 29, 2022. http://malacanang.gov.ph/76540-infographic-army-of-the-first-philippine-republic/. Linn, Brian McAllister. The Philippine American War, 1899-1902. Kansas: University Press of Kansas, 2000. Mallari, Perry Gil S. “The Bolomen of the Revolution,” The Manila Times, June 14, 2014. https://www.manilatimes.net/2014/06/14/sports/the-bolomen-of-the-revolution/104227. Meder, William A. “Civilizing 'Em with a Krag : the Story of a Company of U.S. Volunteers in the Philippine Insurrection,” 1978. https://archive.org/details/civilizingemwith00mede. Melendez, Christian Bernard A. “Kalayaan Over Karangyaan - Pursuing Independence in Exchange for Personal Wealth.” National Historical Commission of the Philippines. June 8, 2021. https://nhcp.gov.ph/kalayaan-over-karangyaan-pursuing-independence-in-exchange-for-personal-wealth/. National Historical Commission of the Philippines. Twitter Post. June 9, 2020, 6:00 PM. https://twitter.com/nhcpofficial/status/1270294568504717312?s=21. Ocampo, Ambeth R. “Original or not, it’s still flag of our fathers,” Philippine Daily Inquirer, June 12, 2011. https://newsinfo.inquirer.net/14136/original-or-not-it%E2%80%99s-still-flag-of-our-fathers. Project Vinta. 2020. “On June 9, 1868, patriot and pharmacist Feliciano Jocson was born in Quiapo Manila.” Facebook. June 9, 2020. https://www.facebook.com/pvinta/posts/2687612368152686. “Rout of the Filipinos: American Troops Scatter the Rebels in All Directions.” The Evening Times, November 13, 1899. https://www.gastearsivi.com/gazete/evening_times_dc/1899-11-13/1. Sexton, William Thaddeus. Soldiers in the Sun: An Adventure in Imperialism. The Military Service Publishers Company: 1939. https://archive.org/details/soldiersinthesun000472mbp. Sison, Norman. “An unflagging symbol of nationhood.” Yahoo! News, June 21, 2014. https://ph.news.yahoo.com/blogs/the-inbox/unflagging-symbol-nationhood-232426481.html. United States Philippines Division War Department. Report of E. S. Otis, U. S. Volunteers, on Military Operations and Civil Affairs in the Philippine Islands 1899. (1899). https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=K08tAAAAIAAJ. —. Annual Reports of the War Department: Volume 1, Part 1. U.S. Government Printing Office: 1899. https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=hTcaAAAAMAAJ.

[bibliomars]

'I Have More Souls Than One' by Fernando Pessoa

After having the ordinary experience of every person who went to secondary school in Portugal, and being exposed to Pessoa as a teenager, revisiting his work as an adult feels invigorating. Most of his poems do require a certain level of maturity that most 16-year-olds just don't have to be able to fully enjoy. Reading some of his most classic poems in English, also gave the words a new meaning, and made me look at the poems in a different light, and it was nice to see I still recognised some poems even in a different language. It's not the most complete selection of Pessoa's and his alter egos' poetry, but it never claims to be one. It is exactly what it promises: an introduction to Pessoa's more infamous poems, that have shaped contemporary Portuguese poetry until today. A nice book to read in one sitting, it shows just how well Pessoa's ideas and words stand up the test of time while efficiently introducing the reader to his writing style.

[highher]

The metropolitan museum of New York, Art 🖼️

[catedwrites]

Daydream by Hannah Grace

For a book titled Daydream, the gentleness of this story absolutely fits. It still has Grace's signature humor and open-door sexual content, as well as the cast of characters we've gotten to know over the past 2 books in the series, but this one is decidedly more tender and soft than the previous books. And for me, that was absolutely a good thing. Additionally, as someone who is neurodivergent, I really appreciated both the way Grace portrayed Henry's own struggles but also how she did not feel the need to label it, just to describe in empathetic detail what it's like. And as someone who is also a chronic people pleaser--I'm pretty sure Halle is the other half of my brain. I still won't say NA and sports romances are my thing, but you've got me, Hannah Grace. You've got me good. :)

Thank you to Netgalley and Atria Books for the ebook ARC. All opinions are mine alone.

[monomatica]

Review : The Calculation of You and Me by Serena Kaylor

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 5 Stars

This book was so good, I loved it. It’s a contemporary YA romance that takes place Senior year of high school, but it doesn’t feel young at all. Marlowe, our heroine, is autistic and is told by her ex Josh that she’s “bad at love” (RUDE!) which makes her question her ability to be romantic and tackles figuring it out like its a calculus equation. 🤓

Marlowe wants to win him back and enlists Ashton Hayes, or Ash, a tall, hot goth boy with piercings, eyeliner and who works in a romance book store and knows his shit. Ash agrees to be her “romance tutor” via books and writing letters in exchange for Marlowe improving his band’s website and social media presence (NEVER MIND THE MONSTERS are uber cool). Of course they catch feelings for each other and its delightful. It’s also quite funny! ❣️

“I’m officially Team Ash” – Ash has quickly been added to my Best Book Boyfriends list. Not only is he tall, hot, and edgy, he’s sensitive, kind, patient and thoughtful and is not afraid to show his love for romance novels or to BE romantic. *DREAM GUY* The meta aspect of a romance bookstore and romance binge reading within a romance novel is so fun. Marlowe turns both her sister and her best friend on to romance and by the end of the book they are devouring everything they can get their hands on!! 😍The angst and suspense and pay off are very satisfying. I couldn’t put this one down and read it in two days. One of the better YA romances I’ve read lately that leaves you with a lot to think about. Oh, and I cried at the ending. It was so sweet. I will definitely read it again. 🖤

OUT JUNE 18th

[milfygerard]

there was a weird phase for awhile on this site where everyone pretended that gerard was like a shitty mid tier comic writer and like. You guys dont read enough comics. you dont know what bad comics look like.