#✧˚ · . ( muse ; angel flores )

[dcrkcrwns]

character tags pt 1.

[chicanoartmovement]

CHICANO ART MOVEMENT visits: “Rasquachismo” 2024

On Saturday 05/11/24, we visited Huntington Beach Art Center to view “Rasquachismo” in the city of Huntington Beach, California.

(“Beyond Timeless” by Justin Favela, 2022)

We learned from the mission statement that: “‘Rasquachismo,’ [is] a multi-media exhibition celebrating the aesthetics and transformative power of Lowriders. Featuring work by William Camargo with Alkaid Ramirez, Justin Favela, Stephanie Mercado, Arturo Meza Il, Aaron Moctezuma, Jose Manuel Flores Nava, Alicia Villegas-Rolon, and Cora J. Quiroz.”

(“Anaheim in Flux” by William Camargo with Alkaid Ramirez, 2024)

“Emerging from the barrios of Southern California, lowriding brought forth a long resistance against the American Dream and dominant idealist norms that attempted to anglicize the young Chicanx individual. Forces of the Anglo-American culture did all it could to disrupt and omit the lowrider. From individual traffic stops to passing county-wide laws, all were attempts to take the lowrider off the streets. Low and slow, their metallic bodies transfigured in response. Now, unapologetically visible, lowriders glisten in candy-colored paint and dance with the aid of hydraulics. The power of lowriding extends beyond the car's aesthetics, however. It has become a rasquachismo expression of Mexican-American, and, eventually, Chicanx identity.”

(“Highland Park” by Stephanie Mercado, 2023)

A favorite of Robert’s at the “Rasquachismo” exhibit was Stephanie Mercado’s “Highland Park.” Through a little research, we learned that “‘Highland Park’ honors the cultural richness of the area including its history, diversity, and its valuable contributions to the broader arts and culture sector of Los Angeles. Utilizing imagery and icons sourced from the neighborhood, this piece celebrates the enduring local landmarks and showcases the architectural diversity that defines the area. Simultaneously, it pays homage to the artists and art spaces that have played a vital role in making Highland Park a vibrant and lively neighborhood for generations.” 

(Detailed view of “We Can Dream” by Cora J. Quiroz, 2022)

From the museum ephemera, we learned that this painting entitled “We Can Dream” by Cora J. Quiroz is part of a series called “Not Your Typical Rosie.” 

The artist states: “I paint women in a way that removes them from being acquiescent muses in typical artworks. From action, body language, and clothing, to expression, I ensure the women I paint have active roles of inspiration, movement, and storytelling. Raised by my mother, I learned about my family’s history through oral tradition. Rather than beng inspred by male-dominated stories in media, I became inspired by the Indigenous and Mexican women of my family, taking spaces where they were not expected.

The simplest acts typical for a man to perform, can often be taboo for women, such as working in the car industry. Despite this, for many years there have been women who have gone against the grain to become whoever they pleased to be, going beyond the WWII icon associated with strong women. These are the stories that inspire my work.” 

(“El Cuento de los Panes: A Community Installation Inspired by Dr. Tomás Ybarra-Frausto” organized by the Exhibition Design students at Laguna College of Art and Design, 2024) 

The exhibition statement shares that the term rasquachismo was “coined by Chicano scholar and art critic Tomás Ybarra-Frausto to describe ‘an underdog perspective, a view from los de abajo’ (from below) in working class Chicanx communities which uses elements of ‘hybridization, juxtaposition, and integration’ as a means of empowerment and resistance.”

The Huntington Beach Art Center presents “Rasquachismo” curated by Laura Black until June 1st, 2024 with their last programming event of an artist discussion is set for Saturday May 25th, 2024 from 1pm to 2:30pm.

[esuemmanuel]

Canta como el ángel que le dio vida a sus entrañas, mueve al mundo en una sola palabra que emite al abrir la boca y desarma. Y es que me he bebido el aliento de su boca y no he parado de cantarle alabanzas. Fue el rosa de sus alas —ángel de vestidura amorosa— el que cautivó al azul de mi fuego. La escuché, por un momento, y me sentí abrazado por el cálido placer de su ternura en flores del cielo. Esto es amarla, porque no puedo negarla; es la flor de mi vida, mi gardenia adorada. La miré, jugueteando con el viento, mientras su vestido se le pegaba al cuerpo y su risita cautivaba a mis pensamientos —así, así la quiero—. Corría y corría al roce del pasto y de la yerba crecida, estos parecían seguirla. En sus pequeños pies, los pétalos del cielo se volvían mariposas que destilaban poesía. Y yo la seguía, con la mirada la seguía. Me embelesaba con su danza, con su fragancia bendita… y reía, yo reía por tenerla cerquita. A veces, la extraño, tanto la extraño. En ocasiones pareciera que ya no escucho su voz y me pierdo, no me encuentro, porque Yo Soy de esa niña bonita, y no necesito nada, absolutamente nada, si la tengo cerquita. Es mi pedazo de vida, el silencio febril que a mi alma musita. Mi niña de luceros negros, la que me hace recordar que estoy vivo y no muerto en cada grano de sal que emerge de mi agua al roce de su recuerdo; ahí está ella, mi niña amada, la dulzura anhelada de mis noches sin sueño; la travesura del amanecer más inquieto. Y es que en sus brazos soy el niño que no ha dejado de crecer, mientras en su pecho —en su alma bendita— soy el fuego que la vuelve mujer. ¡Dios, es sonreír entre lágrimas al verla suceder! Hace ríos de mis mejillas al descender por mi rostro al tanto que la hago mía en el papel.

She sings like the angel that gave life to her entrails, she moves the world in a single word that she emits when she opens her mouth and disarms. And I have drunk the breath of her mouth and I have not stopped singing her praises. It was the pink of her wings -an angel in a loving garment- that captivated the blue of my fire. I listened to her, for a moment, and felt embraced by the warm pleasure of her tenderness in flowers of heaven. This is to love her, for I cannot deny her; she is the flower of my life, my adored gardenia. I watched her, frolicking in the wind, as her dress clung to her body and her giggling captivated my thoughts -that's how I love her. She ran and ran to the touch of the grass and the overgrown weeds, they seemed to follow her. On her little feet, the petals of the sky became butterflies that exuded poetry. And I followed her, I followed her with my eyes. She enraptured me with her dance, with her blessed fragrance… and I laughed, I laughed for having her close to me. Sometimes I miss her, I miss her so much. Sometimes it seems that I no longer hear her voice and I get lost, I can't find myself, because I belong to that beautiful girl, and I don't need anything, absolutely nothing, if I have her close to me. She is my piece of life, the feverish silence that muses to my soul. My little girl of black stars, the one that makes me remember that I am alive and not dead in every grain of salt that emerges from my water at the touch of her memory; there she is, my beloved girl, the longed-for sweetness of my sleepless nights; the mischief of the most restless dawn. And it is that in her arms I am the child that has not stopped growing, while in her breast - in her blessed soul - I am the fire that makes her a woman. God, it is smiling in tears to see her happen! She makes rivers from my cheeks as they run down my face as I make her mine on paper.

[ibelonginyourarms]

closed starter || muse: Claude Speed || with: Luca Flores || for: @assfcrdays

~//~

Claude loved good boys. It wasn't so much that he was a dom, per se - though he wouldn't turn down a guy who knew how to follow orders - it was just that he loved corrupting them. There was a beast inside every good boy, he believed. And Luca wouldn't be any different, he was sure. With his cute little angel face, and that juicy ass, the college boy was begging to be lead to the dark side. "So, baby boy, are you ready to cross a line tonight?" He asked, running his fingers through Luca's hair. "It would make me really happy if you were." He had big plans for the two of them. "And if you are, there's a big reward waiting for you."

[lastcrush]

open to  :  anyone 37+.    muse  :  angel flores.  43.  hacker.  he/they/xe. plot  :  that one where your muse is still their emergency contact even though it's been a while since you've broken up o7

            "     i'm sorry that they called you.  i thought i changed the information.     "     he winces as he pulls on his jacket , in pain but glad to be out of the hospital gown.     "     i'll have it fixed , promise.  it's the middle of the day , you're probably busy , and i can catch a bus back home.  the doctors are being overly cautious — i do not need a babysitter.     "     please leave.  please leave please leave.

[melodiaemfrp]

Hello, Attuned! Thank you for participating in Melodiae’s ninth Activity Check! Listed here are characters that did not pass the check (Five (5) days of activity in-server) for the period from Thursday, November 8th, 2022 to Monday, January 7th, 2023.

If you believe your muse(s) are listed here by mistake, you may reach out to the Masterlist on or before Sunday, January 15th, 2023. All characters that do not have activity accounted for by 11:59 PM EST on this date will be removed from the server by the next inbox run (Tuesday, January 17th, 2023).

If you did not pass the check, you also have until Sunday, January 15th, 2023 to reapp your muse(s) by sending an ask to the Masterlist indicating your intent to reapp the character. You DO NOT have to resubmit the whole application; simply provide your name, the character’s name & series, your OOC contact, and the date in an ask. Muses marked with an asterisk (*) have failed two consecutive checks, and are ineligible to be reapped this way unless they are an OC. These muses must wait one full week, and may resubmit their entire application on or after Sunday, January 22nd, 2023.

Muses that are not reapped by 11:59pm EST on Sunday, January 15th will be removed from the server by our inbox run on Tuesday, January 17th, 2023.

Thank you for your continued interest in Melodiae!

- The Melodiae Team

ARKNIGHTS

Exusiai (Sid)

W (Hika)

BLEACH

Bambietta Basterbine (Maki)*

BUNGOU STRAY DOGS

Edgar Allen Poe (Ike)

Edogawa Ranpo (Cezanne)

Nikolai Gogol (Kit)

CHAINSAW MAN

Angel Devil (Bram)

COUNTDOWN TO COUNTDOWN

Iris Black (Kendal)

CRITICAL ROLE

Mollymauk Tealeaf (Logan)

DC COMICS

Bruce Wayne (Lee)

Edward Nygma (Thysto)

Harleen Quinzel (Nils)

Jason Todd (Benito)

Dick Grayson (Jess)

Roman Sionis (Thysto)

Stephanie Brown (Mace)

Damian Al Ghul-Wayne (Stan)

John Constantine (Nils)

Garfield Mark Logan (Logan)

DEVIL SURVIVOR 2

Yamato Hotsuin (Kem)

DRAGONFABLE

Notha Ly’Ehr (Birb)

DRAKENGARD/NIER

Kainé (Alex)

ELSWORD

Add (Doom Bringer) (Sitri)

Ainchase Ishmael (Bluhen) (Jaden)*

Ainen Rosso (Xanthe)

ELDEN RING

Morgott the Omen King (Thysto)

ENSEMBLE STARS!

Chiaki Morisawa (Liet)

FATE

Merlin (Caster) (Remi)

FINAL FANTASY

XIV

Azem (Nyx) (Lauren)

Haraya Viray (WOL BLM) (Caster)

Hermes (Bram)

Winifreya Sinahon (WOL WHM) (Elyse)

XV

Prompto Argentum (Tom)

GENERATOR REX

Agent Six (Lee)

Doctor Rebecca Holiday (Rhea)

GENSHIN IMPACT

Scaramouche (Riku)*

Venti (Barbatos) (Noct)

GUILD WARS 2

Rhy’lua (OC) (Lavi)*

GOD OF WAR

Atreus (Candle)

Freya (Rhea)

GRAND THEFT AUTO

Cleo Valentina Running Elk (OC) (Suzie)

JOJO’S BIZARRE ADVENTURE

Bruno Buccellati (Cyan)*

Narancia Ghirga (Oz)

LEAGUE OF LEGENDS

Sona Buvelle (Avi)

MARVEL COMICS

Peter Parker (Nils)

MEDAKA BOX

Kumagawa Misogi (Eve)*

METAL GEAR SOLID

Psycho Mantis (Thysto)

NARUTO

Madara Uchiha (Lizard)

Obito Uchiha (Wes)

ORIGINAL CHARACTERS

Annie (Fishnchipsnvinegar)

Daniel Dee (Cezanne)

Erika Ishikawa (Rhia)

Estella VaRossa (Hikari)*

EXPERIMENT-V [ VAL ] (Oz)

Grayson Grimm (Benito)*

Nikon "Niko" Mstislav Alkaev (Sitri)

Reagan Brennan (Thysto)

Rovaniemi, Lapland (KB)*

Rue Gabriel (KB)*

The Calid Saint (KB)*

The Umbral Vices (Cezanne)

OVERWATCH

Ana Amari (Rose)

Mercy (Angela Ziegler) (Rhea)

Widowmaker (Amélie Lacroix)

POKÉMON

Blue (Riku)

Iono (Carmen)

Red (Hikari)

PROJECT MOON WORKS

Angela (Freya)

Angelica (Freya)

Carmen (Corinthia)

Netzach (Cezanne)

PROMISE OF WIZARD

Akira (Karol)

Bradley Bain (Sitri)

Mitile Flores (Pidge)

REVOLUTIONARY GIRL UTENA

Anthy Himemiya (Cecil)

SHUUEN NO SHIORI

C-ta (Tom)

E-ki (Shae)

SIGNALIS

Elster (Cyan)

SILENT HILL

Cheryl Heather Mason (Pax)

James Sunderland (Alivocch)

SONIC THE HEDGEHOG

Sonic the Hedgehog (Eve)

Whisper the Wolf (Dancer)

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES

Raphael Hamato (Mouse)

Leonardo Hamato (Sam)

THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES

Gerard Keay (Kendal)

Oliver Banks (Kendal)

THE MANDELA CATALOGUE

Archangel Gabriel (Bram)

THE OWL HOUSE

Luz Noceda (Ash)

TOILET BOUND HANAKO KUN

Nene Yashiro (Alice)

TOUKEN RANBU

Nikkari Aoe (Athiel)

TRANSFORMERS

Nautica (Suzie)

Airachnid (Suzie)

TWISTED WONDERLAND

Cater Diamond (Raine)

Idia Shroud (Sety)

Morrigan Desrosiers (OC) (Fris)

Trey Clover (Jin)

UTA NO PRINCE-SAMA

Ai Mikaze (Rai)

Eiichi Otori (Kem)

WARFRAME

The Operator (Oz)

YAKUZA/LIKE A DRAGON

Takayuki Yagami (Hikari)*

[barbieanne]

This picture is caption when I was 4 years old, mama told me that Brgy Zone 9, San Jose Taal Batangas invite me as an angel, for there Flores De Mayo, because it is one of our tradition here in our country, me and my cousin are invited to join, we are all excited during that time. Because it was our first time to be an angel on that kind of ocassion. We wait all the participants as queen's and king's, on the chappel, and all people who joined, as a Muse and Escort, we need to complete before we start to parade, start from San Jose going to taal town plaza, and around going back again to San Jose or zone 9, then we are waiting to finish the ceremony of magdadasal, then after each everyone are need to kneel down on the front of altar of the chappel, to receive a flower while all the elders are praying and singing the tradition song of Flores de Mayo.

[thoroughfvre]

closed starter for @ofbookshelves​ !

muse : angel flores . plot : a one - liner from a sentence meme . 

       “ you know that my door is always open for you . ”

[her-penetrating-soul]

ℒℴѵℯ♥️

[maizhavvcrsi-moved]

[captain-hen]

dancing in a snow globe 'round and 'round

title: dancing in a snow globe 'round and 'round

Summary: Eddie mock-glares at him. “You’re a coward, starting something when you know I can’t retaliate since you’re holding your niece.”

Buck smirks smugly. “This little one will protect me,” He says and bends down to nuzzle her head, making her burst out into giggles. Eddie has to look away abruptly, something inexplicably warm and fuzzy building in his chest, a feeling of want so strong he thinks his heart might burst.

ao3 link

a/n: look at me, jumping back into the writing game after i don't even know how long. thank you @malikjavaddzayn for reading this as i wrote it and being so sweet!

also tagging: @evaneddie @matan4il

As Eddie lets himself into Buck’s apartment, he is instantly greeted with the high-pitched wails of a crying baby and the sight of his best friend looking minutes away from beginning to cry himself as he bounces his niece in his arms. Eddie bites back a smile, closing the door behind him.

“I thought you said this was an emergency,” He teases. Buck looks up, his expression morphing from one of relief to a glare.

“Make yourself useful and help me,” Buck all but whines. “She won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do, I tried feeding her and it didn’t work. Her-her diaper doesn’t need to be changed and I-I don’t know, am I hurting her? Why did Maddie let me babysit? I’m terrible at this!”

“Alright, alright,” Eddie quickly goes to Buck and gently takes Baby Joy out of his arms. Buck lets go hesitantly and his eyes become comically wide as Joy begins to quiet down almost instantly when Eddie cradles her in his arms.

“You’re kidding me,” He says, looking betrayed. “How did you do that?”

“You’re stressed out and panicking,” Eddie says patiently. “Which means you’re stressing her out in return. Babies can sense that sort of thing, you know.” A smirk appears on his face. “Unless she just prefers me to you,” He looks down at Joy, cooing at her. “You prefer me to your Uncle Buck, don’t you, honey?”

“I hate you,” Buck grumbles, sinking down into the couch. “I’ll have you know that I’ll always be her favorite.”

“I’m surprised Albert isn’t fighting you for that title.”

“Hah! He can try.”

“Where are Chim and Maddie, anyway?”

“Date night,” Buck replies, reaching out for Joy again, sighing in relief when Eddie gives her back and she doesn’t immediately start crying again, instead just reaching up and fisting her little hand in his shirt. He all but melts, smiling dopily down at her. She really is a little angel when she isn’t screaming loud enough to wake half of Los Angeles.

“It’s their first night out since Joy was born,” He continues, looking up at Eddie now that he’s sure Joy’s not going to throw another tantrum. “I offered to babysit, and, well…”

Eddie looks amused as he sits down next to Buck, stretching his arm over the back of the couch, his thigh pressing into Buck’s. “Just because she happened to have a crying fit while you happened to be babysitting doesn’t mean you’re terrible at this, you know. Babies cry sometimes. It’s been known to happen.”

Buck pouts at him. “Stop making fun of me.”

Eddie tries to keep a straight face and fails miserably. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Careful not to dislodge Joy, Buck picks up a couch cushion and throws it at Eddie’s face. Eddie mock-glares at him.

“You’re a coward, starting something when you know I can’t retaliate since you’re holding your niece.”

Buck smirks smugly. “This little one will protect me,” He says and bends down to nuzzle her head, making her burst out into giggles. Eddie has to look away abruptly, something inexplicably warm and fuzzy building in his chest, a feeling of want so strong he thinks his heart might burst.

It's been a while since Eddie had come to the long overdue realization that the feelings he had for his best friend might not have been as platonic as he’d thought. It had dawned on him, ironically enough, while he had been dating Ana Flores. As smart and kind and pretty as she was, no amount of time they spent together had ever made him feel as at home and carefree and…safe, even, as coming back home after every single date with her, to see Buck either on his couch playing with Christopher or waiting with a cup of coffee and a soft smile long after Chris was in bed. The moment he’d started realizing that was the moment he started noticing everything else, the way they were constantly in sync in everything they did; be it tiding up Buck’s living room after movie night with Christopher or out in the field, doing their jobs and saving lives. The way he gravitated to Buck, constantly in his orbit, wanting to share any piece of good or exciting news or even random trivia with him, first, and no one else. The way watching Buck with his son sometimes moved him so much, he’d need a moment to compose himself, to hide the feelings he felt must show so plainly on his face, clear for the world to see.

After that, he had to break up with Ana. And he still hasn’t done anything about his feelings, because, well…

Well, Eddie has never claimed to be brave when it comes to matters of the heart. There’s a reason why Buck has teasing called him ‘emotionally constipated’ more than a couple of times.

There’s a knock on the door, bringing Eddie out of his musings. Buck perks up.

“I ordered us some pizza before you got here,” He says and nods to his wallet on the coffee table. “Could you go get it?”

Eddie is relieved to do so, convinced that he won’t be able to conceal the extent of his affections the longer he keeps watching Buck with Baby Joy. As he takes the pizza from the delivery guy, he hears Joy begin to fuss again and doesn’t even need to look over his shoulder to know that Buck is panicking. He can’t help but chuckle.

The delivery guy peers around the doorway and smiles at what Eddie presumes is Buck with Joy. “Newborn, eh?”

“Yeah,” Eddie laughs fondly as he pays him. “She’s got quite the pair of lungs on her.”

The delivery guy shakes his head with an endeared smile. “Looks like you and your husband have your hands full.”

Eddie stills at the innocuous remark and before he can say anything, the delivery guy has bid him goodbye and left. He closes the door slowly, frozen in place.

It’s not an unreasonable assumption, he thinks. Hell, it’s probably one he would make himself. It shouldn’t be that surprising that people look at him and Buck, with a baby between them and automatically think they’re together. He wouldn’t be surprised if the same thing has happened whenever Buck has joined him and Christopher on any of their outings.

No, what is surprising, somehow despite the fact that he knows he has feelings for his best friend, is how desperately he wants it to be true. How much he wants Buck to be with him and Christopher, the three of them a family; how easy it is to envision it and scarily enough, how easy it is to go even further and see them many years along the line, still together, possibly even with another child-

“Eddie?” Buck’s voice sounds in equal parts amused and concerned. “Are you just gonna stand there with the pizza all day?”

Eddie turns to face him. Joy seems to have calmed down, since Buck has placed her back in her crib. Taking a step towards him, Buck must see some of the existential crisis playing out in Eddie’s head right now on his face because he quickly takes the pizza from him and sets it down.

“Hey, man,” All traces of amusement are gone from his face now. “What’s wrong?”

There are a number of things that Eddie wants to say. That he should say. He knows he shouldn’t jump into something without thinking about it properly, especially after the disaster that was him moving too fast and too recklessly with Ana.

And yet.

This isn’t just anyone. This is Buck.

And Eddie isn’t even perfectly sure that Buck even feels the same way, but-

He’s never felt quite so compelled to just go for it, to throw caution to the wind and be brave for once as he does now.

Slowly, Eddie sways into Buck’s space, cupping the back of his neck and pressing his forehead to his. He feels Buck exhale sharply, stiffening for a brief moment, before melting into his hold.

“Eddie,” Buck breathes, his voice breaking on the last syllable.

“Is this okay?” Eddie whispers, not quite sure what it is that he’s asking permission for.

Is it okay for me to touch you? Is it okay for us to cross that line? Is it okay that nothing is ever going to be the same again?

Are you sure you want me, baggage, demons and all?

Buck responds by closing the space between them and kissing him.

It’s soft and gentle and sweet, somehow both hesitant and confident at the same time, so much like Buck himself that Eddie smiles into the kiss, joyful laughter caught in his throat as he pulls him closer. They keep it at that, mindful of the fact that there’s a baby less than five feet away from them, not even kissing after a point but just swaying together, breathing in each other’s air.

“So, this is new,” Buck murmurs what may be twenty seconds or twenty years later.

Eddie hums. “Feels like we’ve been dancing around it for a lot longer than we’ve both realized.”

Buck chuckles. “I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way.” He admits. “And…I guess I was scared, too.”

Eddie pulls away slightly to look at him. “So was I,” He says quietly. “Hell, I still am. But…” He pauses momentarily, trying to find the words. “I think we can be good together. We are good together.”

Buck’s responding smile is like sunshine personified and Eddie can’t help but kiss it, lingering softly, just because he can.

“I guess we’re really doing this then,” Buck says, breathlessly when they part.

As if on cue, Joy begins to fuss again and Eddie laughs at Buck’s groan.

“I think she’s hungry,” Eddie says. “And our pizza is getting cold.”

“But we’ll talk later, right?” Buck asks, rather anxiously. “We need to figure this out-and work-and Christopher-“

The fact that Buck’s already thinking of Chris makes Eddie’s heart swell. “We will,” He assures him, taking his hand in his, smiling when Buck interlinks their fingers. “One thing at a time.”

Joy makes another disgruntled noise and Buck finally nods, his smile returning as he turns to check on her. And Eddie-Eddie cannot be happier.

And maybe, for once, he gets to keep this.

[morganfkoskinen]

and when you speak, angels sing above.                      everyday words seem to turn into love songs             give your heart and soul to me                                        and life will always be la vie en rose

ᴍᴏʀɢᴀɴ ғʟᴇᴜʀ ᴋᴏsᴋɪɴᴇɴ, from tammins

quick infos

nome: morgan fleur koskinen

apelido: mora, mory, morg, fleur (família)

idade: 25 anos

casta: 2

província: tammins

ocupação: modelo, e agora, selecionada

astrologia: sol em peixes, ascendente em libra, lua em virgem, vênus em leão

altura: 1,6m

fc: maddison jaizani

traços positivos: simpática, esforçada, gentil, sorridente, 

traços negativos: ingênua, manipulável, perfeccionista, se leva ao extremo

biography

Titan Koskinen nasceu em Likely. Filho de um pescador, ele achou que aquele era seu único destino possível. Nunca fora alguém que pensava grande, achava que tinha que cumprir com o que lhe era mandado e fim. Quando sua irmã mais nova, porém, decidiu mudar de vida e passou a trabalhar no castelo como dama de companhia da rainha, ele viu uma brecha. Acabou se alistando e conseguindo um emprego como guarda no castelo, ao menos, depois de alguns conhecidos o indicarem como um dos homens mais fortes e leais que já haviam conhecido. Ser pescador, afinal, tinha suas vantagens: ele era forte, habilidoso e paciente. Antes casta 7, conseguiu sua ascensão até a casta 2 ao se alistar. Conheceu sua mulher, Maxine, dentro do castelo de Illéa - ela também era uma dama de companhia da rainha. Do momento que a viu, soube que ela era a mulher de sua vida. Enquanto ele se contentava com o pouco que fora prometido durante a vida, a mulher pensava grande, muito grande. Ela era brilhante e com uma energia contagiante, muito diferente do que sua família havia lhe ensinado. Estavam juntos para valer, era isso que tinha percebido. Tornou-se um problema, porém, quando em um combate ele acabou gravemente ferido e o exército decidiu aposenta-lo. A mulher concluiu que era hora de parar de cuidar da realeza e cuidar da própria família.

Titan resolveu se mudar para a pronvícia de Maxine, já que parecia o mais inteligente, já que ele não tinha muito mais que o prendesse em Likely. Agora em Tammins, estavam juntos, criando seu próprio lar. E pouco depois, Maxine engravidou. E assim que souberam da gravidez, os sonhos começaram. Não sabiam se seria um menino ou uma menina, por isso faziam planos para ambos. Se fosse um rapazinho, um jovem e forte militar, que ganharia espaço e poder em todo o lugar que ia. Se fosse uma garotinha, seria a perfeita dama que um dia seria a selecionada pelo príncipe Alexander. Maxine havia até mesmo cuidado dele quando pequeno, participado de sua educação! E aquela era a vida que ela queria para sua pequena filha - que ela nem sabia que nasceria. 

O nome Morgan, escolhido por encaixar tanto para um rapaz quanto para uma garota, significa protetor do mar, o que faria com que o descendente se lembrasse das origens de Titan, próximo ao mar. Quando a garotinha nasceu, porém, Maxine veio a óbito durante o parto o que foi um enorme baque para Titan, que esperava ainda ter muitos anos ao lado de sua mulher. Disposto a honrar a lembrança de Maxine, ele colocou o segundo nome, Fleur, uma vez que ali em sua casa, a falecida mulher era quem cuidava dos grandes jardins da propriedade.

Não havia um só dia na vida de Morgan Fleur que seu pai não dissesse como sua mãe estaria orgulhosa da mulher que ela estava se tornando. Afinal, ela estava crescendo aos moldes das lembranças e sonhos da mãe. Nunca teve escolha, nunca teve opção. Desde muito nova ela precisava ser exatamente o que era esperado dela. Desde criança ela ouvia que não devia sentar de pernas abertas, que não devia usar roupas curtas. Que deveria ser gentil, que deveria ser educada e nunca falar alto demais. Ouvia sobre as promessas de uma seleção, onde ela seria a selecionada pelo príncipe e se tornaria uma princesa, um dia até uma rainha. Seu primeiro trabalho como modelo foi aos dez, quando ela posou para uma marca de roupas infantis. Nessa época, já fazia ballet há três anos, já sabia o básico do bordado, já estava aprendendo francês e alemão. Queria sair para brincar, mas não podia. A única vez, inclusive, que saiu de casa sem que seu pai visse para brincar com outras crianças acabou deixando uma pequena cicatriz em seu queixo - que ela sempre escondia com maquiagem. Na adolescência? Não podia namorar, é claro! Tinha que se guardar pro príncipe. Era religiosa e muito contida, tinha poucos amigos homens. Teve aulas em casa de conhecimentos gerais, línguas. Estava se tornando inteligente, mas ela não se interessava muito. De todas as coisas que seu pai lhe incentivava, o único lugar onde ela se sentia bem era nas aulas de ballet. Foi na dança que ela aprendeu a se expressar, mesmo que fosse na dança mais calculada e perfeccionista possível. Mas a pose de bailarina sempre chamava a atenção dos olheiros de marketing, que a contratavam para modelar e desfilar em diversas ocasiões.

tw: transtornos alimentares

Além do comportamento delicado, o corpo perfeito não passava despercebido. Não que fosse fácil mantê-lo, é claro. Durante a adolescência, se cobrava demais. Todo pequeno defeito, fosse numa foto, em uma aula de dança ou em uma apresentação, se criticava por dias. E seu corpo sofria com isso. Levava-o até o limite sempre. Isso também dizia respeito a magreza, uma vez que por alguns anos acabou desenvolvendo bulimia - doença que segue se fazendo presente quando o estresse aumenta demais. 

fim do tw

Não, ela não queria usar os vestidos cheios que seu pai comprava. Não, ela não queria seguir como modelo. Não, ela não queria se relacionar apenas com pessoas de sua casta e pessoas que seu pai achava que fosse digno. Ela não queria fazer aulas de etiqueta, não queria treinar para a seleção! Não aguentava mais. Mas não tinha escolha. Carregava o peso da morte de sua mãe e sabia que seu pai não seria capaz de aguentar mais uma grande decepção. Ela podia até mesmo não querer, mas jamais teria coragem de dizer isso em voz alta. E além disso, se não fosse tudo aquilo, quem era ela, afinal? Morgan nem mesmo sabia dizer quais eram suas próprias vontades, quais eram suas próprias ambições e quais eram seus sonhos. Ela vivia os de sua mãe e de seu pai, beirando as expectativas do homem e morrendo de medo de decepcioná-lo. Era sua maior motivação: orgulha-lo e ser perfeita, sempre. Mas a perfeição lhe restringia de muito. Ah, como queria ser livre! Livre dos vestidos apertados, dos cumprimentos falsos, aos cortejos irritantes. Sonhava em conhecer alguém, sonhava em se apaixonar, mas daquilo nada adiantava quando ela sabia que estava presa na seleção. 

personality

Morgan Fleur é a pessoa mais educada, simpática e sorridente que você vai conhecer - essa é, pelo menos, a forma a qual foi criada à risca. Nunca sai da linha, nunca tem um fio de cabelo fora do lugar. Não que não falte vontade, inferno, como queria sair sem ter que se encaixar dentro do padrão o tempo inteiro. Mas ela sempre estava preocupada demais com o próprio corpo - algo que sempre lhe causou muita insegurança e dificuldades, principalmente por conta do trabalho -, preocupada com o que os outros pensam sobre ela, preocupada com sua imagem. Por dentro, vive uma batalha consigo mesma para conhecer sua verdadeira essência, mas nunca se sentiu livre o suficiente para isso. Por fora, é a candidata perfeita à seleção, que orgulha todos ao seu redor. É graciosa, delicada. Pensa demais, mas fala de menos. É contida, mas quando pedem sua opinião sincera? Não hesita em falar tudo que pensa. É uma pessoa muito esforçada e quando coloca algo em mente, vai até o fim - não respeitando nem mesmo os limites e barreiras do próprio corpo. 

headcanons

por conta do ballet, tem o pé bem feio e machucado. é raro vê-la descalça em público, mesmo que ela ame pisar com os pés no chão, principalmente na grama. 

se cobra muito, em todos os sentidos possíveis. treina o máximo que pode, é muito ativa. cobre todas as imperfeções com maquiagem, vive bem arrumada e com vestidos de última linha e saltos altos. nunca é vista de cara feia, pois faz questão de estar sempre sorrindo. poucos são os que conhecem a morgan na versão relaxada.

não teve muitos amigos ao longo da vida, principalmente porque seu pai limitava quem ela podia ou não ver. por isso, não é a pessoa com maiores habilidades sociais do mundo. as vezes é meio ingênua, tem muita dificuldade de entender piadas e ironia, e é um tanto quanto manipulável, pois não vê muita maldade nos outros. 

não usa roupas curtas e nem decotadas. também não tem nenhuma experiência sexual. o tema, na verdade, lhe causa um pouco de ansiedade. também não se decobriu bissexual ainda, apesar de alguns gay panics em alguns momentos da vida. 

é apaixonada por flores e aprendeu, desde cedo, a cuidar delas. é boa em jardinagem, mas depois dos quinze seu pai não deixou mais que ela mexesse com isso - para cuidar das mãos e deixar o trabalho para braçais.  

perde toda a compostura ao ver qualquer animalzinho. é apaixonada pelos bichinhos e se torna uma criança ao ver qualquer um. 

sua leitura preferida é poesia.

não é boa em coisas que precisa se deixar levar pelo feeling, como instrumentos, artes plásticas ou qualquer dança que demande muita entrega. ela prefere as coisas mais exatas que ela seja capaz de controlar. 

é viciada em listas, planilhas e planners. é muito, muito esquecida. se não anotar algo, provavelmente vai acabar esquecendo. deixa post-its na frente da sua escrivaninha com todas as suas tarefas e coisas que não pode esquecer.

se da muito bem com crianças, apesar delas normalmente lhe deixarem nervosa/ansiosa por serem imprevisíveis.

wanted connections

muse a é alguém que conhece a versão mais tranquila e relaxada de morgan. talvez por uma amizade antiga, ou por já ter pego a garota é muitas situações constrangedoras, koskinen já se sente completamente confortável de não ser perfeita an frente de muse a.

muse b é alguém com quem morgan sempre se compara. não porque ela quer, mas é incapaz de não se comparar. pode ser uma selecionada com mais atributos, ou alguém da realeza que tem a vida perfeita, ou ainda uma pessoa que é completamente livre pra ser e fazer o que quiser, mas sempre acaba sendo alguém que ela inveja de certa forma.

muse c foi o mais perto que morgan chegou de ter um namorado. da mesma província que ela, tammins, eles se encontravam escondidos sem que o pai dela soubesse. provavelmente alguém meio “má influência” mas que incentivava ela a ser menos preocupada e mais de boa com a vida. mas pode ter acabado bem mal rsss. inspo: strawberries & cigarettes - troye sivan

muse d é alguém que trabalha no castelo e virou, por algum motivo, a pessoa número 1 a quem morgan corre para pedir ajuda/socorro em qualquer situação de necessidade (qualquer uma, desde estou muito doente, até meu salto preferido quebrou.)

muse e percebe rapidinho que morgan é meio lentinha e tira proveito dela. pode ficar pedindo pra ela fazer coisas pra elx, ou então fica fazendo ela passar vergonha de propósito, sem ela nem perceber. 

muse f alguma realeza ou celebridade que ela é, simplesmente, obcecada. tipo, na presença de muse f, morgan começa a ser a maior fangirl desse castelo. fica tentando agir com naturalidade mas é impossível

[page-doctor-bekker]

Casa de las Flores (transfemme!sarah)

(A/N) so... there is no nsfw in here. nothing that wouldn't be allowed in a pg-13 film, which is typically my policy: if i can see it in a pg-13 film, i can write it and put it on my tumblr :) anyways, enjoy. this takes place right after this.

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Casa de las Flores looked small on the outside, a cute storefront with a few burnt out letters and a neon “OPEN” sign on the door, but the quaint look was merely a facade. On the inside, the dining room was large and lively, with a full-service bar and bright decorations. They were seated almost right away, sandwiched between an elderly couple and a family with a toddler and a baby.

“I’m Rosie, I’m going to be taking care of you two today,” The woman smiled, and set the menus down, “Can I get you started with some drinks?”

Ava glanced over the drink menu, skipping right down to the margaritas section.

“Yeah, can I get a strawberry margarita, frozen?” Ava requested, and Rosie nodded, scribbling down on her pad.

“And for you?”

“Uh…”

Crap, is she paying? Or am I? I should get something cheap, just play it safe… Wait, she said she was going to buy me dinner. She’s definitely paying. God, I don’t want to cost her too much…

“A uh… Err… Sparkling watermelon margarita on the rocks, hold the salt,” She blurted out, and Ava smiled at her, which was totally not helping the nerves.

“I’ll get those right out,” Rosie flipped her pad closed, and left the table.

“Really? No salt?” Ava queried, giving a slight chuckle.

“I always wipe it off when I get the salt,” Sarah admitted, “It just… I don’t know. It’s supposed to enhance the lime or something, but I’m just not into it. The bitterness just ruins the drink for me.”

“Huh,” Ava flipped the page on the menu, “I never knew that about you.”

“I mean, it’s not like I advertise my margarita preferences everywhere I go.”

Ava laughed, “Really? That’s my favorite activity!” She taunted, looking up at the other woman.

“Maybe I should give it a try,” Sarah remarked.

“What are you going to get?” Ava suddenly changed the subject, still flipping through the pages of the laminated menu, “I was looking at that baja grilled fish tacos but…” She winked, “I’m not sure if fish is the right choice on a first date.”

What the fuck. WHAT the fuck. What the FUCK.

Sarah laughed, although the comment took her off guard, “I was thinking of the enchiladas de espinaca, but I haven’t entirely ruled out the al pastor either.”

“Spinach? You’re bolder than I am,” Ava chuckled.

“I’ll only get it if you promise to let me know if I have some on my teeth.”

“Deal.”

A few quiet minutes later, Rosie was back, “How are we doing, ladies? Need another minute?” She asked, as she set the drinks down, “Frozen strawberry margarita, Watermelon margarita on the rocks, no salt.”

“I think we’re all set,” Ava raised an eyebrow at Sarah, who nodded.

Enchiladas de espinaca is cheaper.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Ladies first,” Ava winked.

“Uh…” Sarah gave a nervous laugh, “I will get the enchiladas de espinaca.”

“Great choice,” Rosie scribbled her order down, “And for you?”

“I will get the steak fajitas with flour tortillas, please,” She closed her menu, “Oh, and can we get a round of Mexican candy shots and a round of tequila shots?”

“Of course, I’ll have that right out.”

“Shots?” Sarah inquired.

“Shots.”

Is she trying to get me drunk? Ava did call an uber to get here, maybe she just wanted a drinking friend…

At the table next to them, the baby started crying. Sarah watched as the mother cooed and shushed, and eventually apologized to her party and left the restaurant with the baby. Ava sipped her drink, before speaking.

“Would you ever have kids?”

Sarah’s heart just about stopped.

She stammered, “I- uh… I don’t know, maybe. I always wanted to be a mom when I was younger,” She smiled, “I even tried to breastfeed my babydolls.”

Ava gave a hearty laugh, the kind of laugh that makes you feel like the lights have just been turned on, and you could finally see in a dark room.

“Didn’t every little girl?” She laughed some more, and Sarah joined in.

Yeah, but little boys didn’t.

“I don’t know,” Ava continued, “Giving birth sounds so painful,” She mused, “I had a pregnancy scare in high school, a false positive from a cheap piece of shit test, and all I could think about was how much it was going to hurt.”

“Oh my God,” Sarah chuckled, “Not even about what you were going to do, how your parents would react?”

“Not even a little bit.”

It was Sarah’s turn to let out a big laugh, imagining the strong, confident surgeon stress over pain, rather than the practical side of a teenage pregnancy.

“How DID your parents find out?”

She snorted, “They didn’t!”

Sarah laughed even harder, and a couple near them turned their heads to stare.

Rosie brought both rounds of shots; The tequila, and whatever a Mexican candy shot was. The tequila shot was a yellow-y caramel color, with salt and a lime on the rim. The Mexican candy shot was a pinkish red shot with what seemed to be Tajin salt around the rim, and a lime as well.

Ava nodded at the shots, “Which first?”

“The pink one,” Sarah reached for it, “What’s in it?” She gave it a sniff.

“It’s watermelon-y,” Ava grinned, “Bottoms up?”

Sarah clinked her shot against Ava’s, and threw it back. The Tajin shocked her taste buds, and the first taste of the actual shot was sweet, like biting into a cool, crisp watermelon on a warm summer day. Almost as soon as she tasted the watermelon, she tasted what seemed like hot sauce, and tart lime juice.

“Ugh, I love those,” Ava dramatically rolled her eyes back, before grinning at Sarah, who gave a smile in return.

“I’m a little scared of the tequila,” Sarah admitted.

“What? Bad night in college?” Ava teased, and Sarah blushed with embarrassment.

“I’ve… Actually never had tequila.”

“So why are you scared? You can wipe the salt off, you know.”

The tequila shot didn’t necessarily disgust her, but she didn’t enjoy it. The salt made her stick her tongue out in disgust, and the alcohol burned on her tongue. She looked up at Ava through watery eyes, and Ava was looking at her with an expression that Sarah couldn’t quite understand.

Ava clapped, and Sarah coughed, and their food arrived. Sarah went tunnel-vision on her food, and Ava’s laughter through their conversations was almost more intoxicating than the alcohol. By the time they finished dinner, Sarah was on her third, maybe fourth margarita. Ava coerced her into another tequila shot, and they shared a plate of churros. Sarah had even tried Ava’s, wiping off the salt from her rim.

The bill was well over a hundred dollars, most of it being alcohol, and Ava paid it with eight twenty-dollar bills without a second thought, and dragged Sarah out by the elbow.

“Y’know,” Sarah slurred, “I thought you hated me.”

Ava’s face fell, “I know.”

“I thau’ you’d neva’ talk t’ me again,” She mumbled, leaning into Ava.

“I know.”

“I was so so sad.”

“I know.”

They were quiet. The only sounds were the Chicago streets. The sounds melted together in Sarah’s head, and she felt miles taller than she was, and miles shorter at the same time. She felt like she might float away, like Ava’s arm was the only thing keeping her on Earth. Sarah was a balloon, but Ava was the string.

“Wanna go back to my place?” Ava whispered, seeming stone cold sober even though they had had the same amount to drink. Sarah was infatuated with her - Everything she did seemed to make her more and more attractive.

Sarah had half a mind to say no, but nodded eagerly.

“You bought me dinner,” Sarah sighed happily, “You’re so nice to me.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“Mmhmm…” Sarah agreed, “Because surgeons make more than psychiatrists.”

Ava laughed loudly, stumbling a bit herself, “How are you going to pay off all your debt if you buy dinner, miss fresh-out-of-medical-school?”

“Maybe I don’t hate the salt,” Sarah blurted out, ignoring Ava’s joke.

The two walked arm in arm, each of them letting out a giggle every few steps. Ava’s sober front slowly fell, leaving her just as messy as Sarah. They each did their fair share of holding each other up, until the doorsteps of the apartment building Ava lived in.

They stopped.

Ava stared into Sarah’s eyes, as if trying to puncture her soul with an IV needle. Ava had brown eyes - The kind that filled your heart with warmth like you’d just downed a hot cup of coffee between patients - And Sarah knew she had noticed it before, but she couldn’t remember when she realized how beautiful they were.

Ava’s breath, that once smelled like her chapstick and chewing gum, now smelled of strawberry margaritas, tequila shots, and salsa. Her mascara was mildly smeared, not from crying, but from God knows what antics the two had gotten up to. Her teeth were starkly white when she smiled, and made Sarah wonder if they were naturally that white, or if she had treated them to get there.

Ava’s lips made contact with Sarah’s before Sarah even knew they were heading that direction, and she simultaneously tensed her whole body and felt like she was melting to the floor.

Someone’s going to see, someone’s going to see us and hurt me, someone’s going to know-

Ava pulled off with a smack, and smiled coyly, “Wanna head upstairs?”

Sarah nodded, eyes wide. She felt short of breath, and anxiety bubbled in her stomach. Does she mean what I think she means?

She tripped twice heading up the stairs - The elevator was out of order. Ava held on to her, drunk but still more coordinated than Sarah could ever hope to be. Sarah saw stars, and a halo around Ava’s head, convincing her drunk mind that the blonde woman beside her was truly an angel.

When they got to Ava’s apartment, they were kissing before they even closed the door. Ava pushed Sarah against the wall, tearing her jacket off first and then Sarah’s. Somehow, with her eyes closed, she still managed to hang them up on the coat hooks beside their heads.

Ava pulled Sarah’s hair tie out, and tangled her hands in the woman’s curly locks. She needed her lips like she needed oxygen to breathe, and neither of them wanted to let go. Sarah felt things shift between her legs, making her attraction to Ava apparent to her, but even in her intoxicated state she still managed to feel the pang of dysphoria, which made her nauseous. Regardless, she didn’t falter, no matter the discomfort deep in the pit of her stomach.

“I’ve never kissed a girl before,” Sarah breathed out between kisses.

Oh God.

“Honored to be your first,” Ava responded, equally as preoccupied.

Ava rested her hands on Sarah’s waist, hiking her shirt up slightly in the process. She shivered as Ava’s cold hands made contact with her skin, and her southern equipment stirred, making her dysphoric yet again and only contributing to the nausea. At this point, she couldn’t tell if she was truly nauseous from the alcohol, or just so dysphoric and anxious that her stomach couldn’t tell the difference. She powered through, distracting herself in the warmth of Ava’s mouth and the light touch from her fingertips.

Ava creeped up Sarah’s ribcage until she could feel the underwire of her bra, and then slipped her hands under. Sarah was suddenly very aware of her lower regions, her gaff, and how thin her scrubs were. She would be screwed if something slipped out.

Note to self:

Ava kissed down her neck.

Write a good review for this gaff later.

Ava started unbuttoning her shirt, kissing the newly bare areas as she went. Once she reached the bottom, her lips darted back up to her collarbone, sucking a hickey into the sensitive area.

Sarah’s job was to keep breathing, and not let the panic get the better of her.

This is fine. Adults do this. I’m an adult. She doesn’t know, and she wont find out because I won’t let this go that far.

Ava’s lips captured Sarah’s again.

I won’t let this go far enough to be a problem.

Ava’s hands trickled down to the button on her pants, and Sarah took in a sharp breath.

Ava looked up quizzically, “Do you want this?”

Yes, but I can’t.

Sarah didn’t respond, hoping her fear was not evident in her eyes.

The surgeon put one hand on Sarah’s cheek, and relaxed her other hand from her waistband, “You don’t have to. I won’t be mad.”

Sarah nodded, then shook her head, “I- uh, I don’t want to.”

The anxiety in her chest fizzled out as Ava stepped away, and as much as she craved intimacy, Sarah knew this was better. Ava gave her a warm smile, and held out her hand.

Sarah took it, receiving a squeeze from her, “I can get an Uber or a Lyft…”

Ava looked taken aback, “Why? You can stay, you know. You think I’m going to kick a drunk girl out at,” She glanced at her phone, “Eleven o’ clock at night?”

Sarah smiled sheepishly, and stood awkwardly for a second, “Uh… Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh! That door right there,” She pointed to a modern white door, with silver fixtures. Sarah stumbled towards the bathroom, and practically fell into the room.

She closed the door behind her, and leaned against it. She slumped down, pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead against them.

After a few minutes of deep breathing exercises, she opened the door and hollered, “Ava?!”

“Yes?” The aforementioned woman looked up from the couch, where she was sipping a glass of water and playing a game on her phone.

“Is it okay if I shower?”

“Yeah! Let me get you something to sleep in, I think we’re similar in size.”

Sarah closed the door as Ava got up, and a few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Sarah opened it, and Ava handed her a stack of folded clothes, with two towels on the bottom, “I didn’t know if there were any towels in there, so if there are, just leave any extras under the sink.”

Sarah nodded, and Ava gave her a tight-lipped smile, and left.

Sarah closed the door.

It seemed that Sarah was given a bright pink muscle tee, with the words “Cardiac care is a work of heart” in all caps, with an anatomical heart image, and a pair of loose black sweatpants. She rolled her eyes at the shirt, surprised that Ava would own it. It seemed silly.

Sarah stripped, turned the water on as cold as it could go, and jumped in.

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(A/N) thx for reading ! lmk what you thought <3

[hypcbeast]

update!

added 8 new muses see below

nina rosario, 23, college drop-out, barbie ferreira fc

yoo sangjae, 38, criminal-defense lawyer, gong yoo fc

ddaeng flores, 27, angel investor and rich bitch, saweetie fc

simran singh, 20, college student, maitreyi ramakrishnan fc

moon dante, 21, college student, jung wooyoung

yoo hyukjae, 19, college student, yoo sangjae’s son, hueningkai fc

cho aristotle, 21, college student, choi yeonjun fc

[stingslikeabee]

Tag  eight  people  you’d  like  to  know  better!

Favorite color: I used to be a very edgy kid who replied ‘black, blue and silver’ straight away (whereas pink used to be my favorite as a child). Nowadays I still like these three quite a lot but I’ve branched out to others - I also like deep red and green hues. :)

Last song I listened to: It was ‘Kiss Me’ by DEAD END, which is a longtime presence in my old playlist of ‘songs to write smut to’ but now makes me sad because of YOU’s passing last June.

Favorite musician: I’m a sucker for most Japanese old school bands (GLAY is my #1 band, but other favorites are LUNA SEA, BUCK-TICK, PIERROT, Nightmare, DEAD END/Creature Creature, some D’ERLANGER - ironically enough I was never a big fan of Dir en grey or L’Arc~en~Ciel, or even X Japan). Other bands/singers include Panic! at the Disco, Bon Jovi, Shakira, Foo Fighters, U2, Skank, Alice Merton, Lady Gaga, Muse, Kaiser Chiefs, Tribalistas, Franz Ferdinand, Dua Lipa, Florence + the Machine, Gloria Groove etc etc etc - I even like classical music pieces (Georges Bizet’s ‘Carmen’ has a special place in my heart).

Last movie I watched: I think it was ‘Knives Out’ and I friggin’ LOVED it.

Last TV show I watched: As in the last TV show I finished or episode watched? It would be ‘La Casa de las Flores’ for the former and ‘Yu Yu Hakusho’ for the latter - believe it or not I had never seen Yu Yu Hakusho as a kid and I’m watching it from the beginning with my boyfriend haha..

Favorite character: of all time and all media? Prooobably Captain Jack Sparrow, with FFXII’s Balthier ranking a close second and apparently giving away I have a type? Just guess who my favorite character in ‘Once Upon a Time’ was hahahahaha (yes, it was Hook).

Sweet, spicy or savory: Not too sweet or too savory but tasty is fine for me!

Sparkling water, tea or coffee: I’m that snobbish person that now likes sparkling water after an espresso after lunch? But individually considered, coffe/tea.

Pets?: I am a cat person - I miss my little cat angel to this day but I no longer have pets of my own. I’m a pet... Auntie, tho? My sister has a dog (named Spock) who’s the cutest dog ever and I’m not even a dog person??? He’s crazy charismatic. o_O

tagged by: @devilreno (thank you!!! also your replies were so funny fdjfnjdsf) tagging: I’ve seen this quite a few times on the dash so steal and tag me so I can go back and read your answers. :)

[anniekoh]

Syllabus revision/creating time is an excuse to read all the things. But how else can I teach my social context class without cultural 

A Burning Desire: Los Angeles as Femme Fatale by Tatiana Reinoza (2012) in Hemisphere: Visual Cultures of the Americas 

In BURNBABYBURN, Vincent Valdez opens up the Pandora's box and asks viewers to question why Chavez Ravine is on fire, and what really happened there. His is a seductive form of visual rhetoric -- the city is a muse, the muse a femme fatale -- that causes pleasure, anxiety, and hopefully awareness, "off the record on the QT, and very hush-hush."

The Tide Was Always High: The Music of Latin America in Los Angeles edited by Josh Kun (2017)

In 1980, the celebrated new wave band Blondie headed to Los Angeles to record a new album and along with it, the cover song “The Tide Is High,” originally written by Jamaican legend John Holt. Featuring percussion by Peruvian drummer and veteran LA session musician “Alex” Acuña, and with horns and violins that were pure LA mariachi by way of Mexico, “The Tide Is High” demonstrates just one of the ways in which Los Angeles and the music of Latin America have been intertwined since the birth of the city in the eighteenth century. The Tide Was Always High gathers together essays, interviews, and analysis from leading academics, artists, journalists, and iconic Latin American musicians to explore the vibrant connections between Los Angeles and Latin America. Published in conjunction with the Getty's Pacific Standard Time: LA/LA, the book shows how Latin American musicians and music have helped shape the city’s culture—from Hollywood film sets to recording studios, from vaudeville theaters to Sunset Strip nightclubs, and from Carmen Miranda to Pérez Prado and Juan García Esquivel.

Josh Kun also curated some playlists for the book.

Mexican-American Mojo: Popular Music, Dance, and Urban Culture in Los Angeles, 1935–1968 by Anthony Macias (2008)

Stretching from the years during the Second World War when young couples jitterbugged across the dance floor at the Zenda Ballroom, through the early 1950s when honking tenor saxophones could be heard at the Angelus Hall, to the Spanish-language cosmopolitanism of the late 1950s and 1960s, Mexican American Mojo is a lively account of Mexican American urban culture in wartime and postwar Los Angeles as seen through the evolution of dance styles, nightlife, and, above all, popular music. Revealing the links between a vibrant Chicano music culture and postwar social and geographic mobility, Anthony Macías shows how by participating in jazz, the zoot suit phenomenon, car culture, rhythm and blues, rock and roll, and Latin music, Mexican Americans not only rejected second-class citizenship and demeaning stereotypes, but also transformed Los Angeles.

Macías conducted numerous interviews for Mexican American Mojo, and the voices of little-known artists and fans fill its pages. In addition, more famous musicians such as Ritchie Valens and Lalo Guerrero are considered anew in relation to their contemporaries and the city. Macías examines language, fashion, and subcultures to trace the history of hip and cool in Los Angeles as well as the Chicano influence on urban culture. He argues that a grass-roots “multicultural urban civility” that challenged the attempted containment of Mexican Americans and African Americans emerged in the neighborhoods, schools, nightclubs, dance halls, and auditoriums of mid-twentieth-century Los Angeles. So take a little trip with Macías, via streetcar or freeway, to a time when Los Angeles had advanced public high school music programs, segregated musicians’ union locals, a highbrow municipal Bureau of Music, independent R & B labels, and robust rock and roll and Latin music scenes.

Mex/L.A.: “Mexican” Modernism(s) in Los Angeles, 1930-1985 by Mariana Botey, Harry Gamboa Jr, Ana Elena Mallet (2011)

The years from 1945 to 1985 are often identified as the moment in which Los Angeles established itself as a leading cultural center in America. However, this conception of its history entirely excludes the very controversial presence of the Mexican muralists, as well as the work of other artists who were influenced by them and responded to their ideas. It is likewise often thought that Los Angeles' Mexican culture arrived full formed from outside it, when in fact that culture originated within the city--it was in Los Angeles and Southern California that Jose Vasconcelos, Ricardo Flores Magon, Octavio Paz and other intellectuals developed the iconography of modern Mexico, while Anglos and Chicanos were developing their own. David Alfaro Siqueiros, Clemente Orozco, Alfredo Ramos Martinez and Jean Charlot made some of their earliest murals in Los Angeles, influencing the Mexican, Mexican-American and Chicano artists of the 1970s and 80s. "MEX/LA: Mexican Modernism(s) in Los Angeles 1930-1985" focuses on the construction of different notions of "Mexicanidad" within modernist and contemporary art created in Los Angeles. From the Olvera Street mural by Siqueiros, to the Golden Age of Mexican cinema and the Disney silver-screen productions, to the revitalization of the street mural, up to the performance art of Guillermo Gomez-Pena, "MEX/LA" explores the bi-national and hybrid forms of artistic practices, popular culture and mass-media arts that have so uniquely shaped Los Angeles' cultural panorama.