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[Knots au]

Pedro: Yes, some white plain desing will go. Luisa is more of a manual worker, so there's no need to show of—

Luisa, designing her clothes as Ancient Greece inspired outfit: *cries* I'VE NEVER BEEN HAPPIER IN MY LIFE

Mirabel, internally: Forcing a person who's supposed to work all day and probably will get herself dirty on daily basis to wear white is the stupidiest idea I ever heard

And I'm starting to complain there's no rain

As much as Pepa was happy, her sister and her childhood best friend were getting married, she couldn't help but wonder if she's ever gonna meet her special one

@encantober-official prompt — Umbrella

Pepa stared down, trying to breathe. Wind howled around her like a wild wolf. Rain sprinkled. Cold and dry, it fell on the brim of her dress, soaking the bright orange.... And now Pepa was getting more upset because it was so uncomfortable.

Don't get her wrong. She was happy for Julieta. Upon hearing about proposal, Pepa was ready to cry from hapiness. Whirling in a storm of her untamed emotions. Agustin was her best friend as long as Pepa could remember herself. She did have other friends, way more than her reversed siblings, but Fus was the only one this close to her. They were practically attached to the hip. And when Pepa heard about her dear friend first crushing on Julieta, she was overjoyed. Two of them were dating for years now and it seemed like their love never stopped burning, just like Rojas never stopped getting injuries.

They were perfect for each other, and Pepa knew it.

But, as much as she was happy for the two people she loved so much... Part of her was jealous. While Julieta and Agustín had steady and firm love for years, which eventually grew into proposal, Pepa tried to find somebody she would love the same way. But none of her relationship lasted long enough. She was hot-tempted and, well, weather didn't make her look better.

"Señorita?" She heard a concerned voice. "Is everything alright?" Looked up. Short man, Murillo, if Pepa does recall his memory right, stood in front of her, holding an open umbrella. His water soaked clothes was shining in the gray clouds, umbrella like a little sun keeping it warm inside.

Pepa winced in surprise, wind spilled over like a nasty child. Rain clung between her hairs. "Don't worry," she hestitated for a bit. "Félix, right?"

"Sí" He fell onto the bench next to her, the bright yellow umbrella hung over their heads. "You sure you're okay? You look very upset."

Pepa gritted her teeth, rubbing her braid, a couple of orange threads fell on her pale fingers. The rain drummed above her head, playing a childish melody against the fabric. Water ran down drow the edges of open umbrella. Collecting into puddles under her feet.

"My sister is getting married," Pepa breathed out, her throat felt dry. Félix looked up at her, concerned. "I mean, I'm happy for her!" She raised her hands, defending herself just in case. "It's just that she's already proposed and I don't even have anyone on my own!"

There was this fear, worry of what would it mean if she stayed alone for longer. Pepa loved romance! A prince saving his lady in the books was so wonderful. But her own relationships never went greatly. Thanks to her power, nobody wanted to stay wet because she couldn't find that one dress she had always wore on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Or deal with her sometimes childish impulsiveness when a single thing out of her control was enough reason to panic. (And therefore cause some bad weather.)

The look on Félix's face made Pepa look over her shoulders, face pale. Fingers gripped into the back of the bench in worry that she had caused a natural disaster of sort. "I don't believe it." He breathed out. Pepa startled. "There's no chance the most beautiful Señorita in the town doesn't have a tray of potential admirers."

"Well," Pepa counted on her fingers. "The last one broke with me after I almost stroke him with a lighting by accident, before that we just both were too aggresive and fought like..." In a second she stopped. Her fingers rubbing together. "What?" She exhaled, the wind smashed them with a huge force, almost tearing the mushroom out of Señor Murillo's hands. "About me being..."

"The most beautinful woman I ever met." He took her hand, his palms so big. Pepa's eyes widened in surprise. Fog crawled from her tips of her fingers. Her face reddened.

"You actually look very nice too," She muttered, staeing into his deep brown eyes. So amazing that her heart might atrt beating a bot fast. And Félix came to her. He came to support Pepa when he saw her upset. Even if they barely ever spoke, he wasn't close to either of the triplets. And most people would ignore Pepa. Her emotions stopped being an important matter many years ago, when everyone settled with the fact that they had a girl who could start pouring rain by crying. But here, somebody not close to her came out, took an umbrella to shield Pepa from her own weather. And... it was nice.

"Are you free? Relationship-wise?" Pepa clarified, not wanting to cause a problem by accident. The moment Félix nodded his head, a rainbow bloomed over her head (maybe it was a little strange). "We need to go out!" She declared, pressing closer to him before he even had a chance to say a word.

The man winced, his gaze jumped around Pepa's face. Unsure if she was serious. After all she was a Madrigal and way higher class than Murillo. But, who was he to refuse spending time with such a beautiful lady?

Dolores: Small creatures are much more vicious because they have a smaller body to bottle up all their emotions. Camilo: Ridiculous. Give me some examples. Antonio: Wasps? Isabela: Cacti? Luisa: Isabelas

Like aunt, like nephew

Another suntrio piece this time by the amazing overly-dramatic-artist 💛

Last one for a bit I promise- hope at least someone enjoyed seeing more art of them

I still have plenty of art I could share maybe in the future

Wings growing out

Alma didn't know how close he was. Day after day, staying by her side and helping her with the best ge could

@encantober-official prompt — Haunt

Pedro didn't think he would ever open his eyes again. He stared right into death's eyes, knowing there would be no return. The swing of the metal took his breath out in just seconds. And this was scary. He wasn't a hero, but he wanted them safe. They all deserved a happier ending. None of this was fair. Not to him, not to his precious family

He would like to say he wasn't afraid, but the truth is that at the moment Pedro wanted to turn around and run. Until his feet were off and he simply collapsed into the thick bushes. But this wasn't about him. Alma was here. Three beautiful babies who were just born in her arms. Too young, too innocent to deal with this. And even if Pedro didn't want to come for himself, he had to beg to spare his newborns. His wife.

The next time he had lifted his head was weird. Because he assumed he was dead. The cold bite of the digging blade, salty metal taste of the watmness on his tongue, soft water there his face fell — it was all too real. Vivid memories stuck in his head.

He gasped, his thorax tight and heavy al the green run underneat him. Giant grass as he realized a moment later. Too big compared to his tiny body. Pedro winced, flackering a little above in the tremblings of confusion. He stared back at the wings undeniably attached to his back. Sun filling him like an overflowed cup. Because he was alive and he flew just like a tiny butterfly.

Pedro felt dizzy. He knew he had died and now he was a butterfly. A bit afraid. What was he supposed to do with this? He still was all alone without any help.

It took a while before he managed to find Alma. Just by acciden, seeing her passing nex to the field of flower. Pedro tried to scream, say her name but the words never came out. His amor looked tired. Not just physical type, but weary. Black fabric hung on her shoulders.

Pedro flopped onto her hair. Sligtly moving his wings.

Since then, Pedro was following Alma. Trying to help in the best of his abilities. He had no way to communicate, to let anyone know he wasn't just a little buddy. But he sat nearby, at least bringing the tiniest bit of joy in their lives. No matter how small. He sat on the Alma's nose to make her giggle if she was sad. Tried to help her if she had to choose. Of course, he was just a butterfly and rately was able to do anything.

But he was here, next to his family. Never present but inseparable from them. When Alma cried to him, Pedro sat on the window frame. His wings bleeding from the pure pain, the agony in her voice. As he wanted nothing more than to hold her close.

He was just in front of Alma. Always here even if she didn't know it. He hung in her face, trying his best to cheer her up. Sometimes Alma sat down, looking at him dancing, flying in her face. Admiting the beauty and trying to hold it all together. The butterfly followed her day after day. Pedro was near, listening to her silent pleas. Alma didn't have wings, not yet. Bound to the ground she struggled to keep going. But sometimes, she looked at Pedro, not even realizing it was him. But tried to give herself hope by remembering. By knowing Pedro wouldn't want this.

No matter how many mistakes she had done, he was always next to her. When the face was filling with wrinkles and the sprankles of the soft nature were getting out became too rare. Even if Pedro knew he could fly away, but his dead heart wouldn't allow him to do so. Even if Alma wasn't perfect, he loved her and knew she was doing her best. And, at least he could make her a bit happier and help to see the way forward in the darkness that surrounded her.

Pedro watched it, hiw she changed, hating it. But still loving her. Alma did bad things but shewas the person he loved the most. Seeing her change to much was weird.

But in the end, there was time when, despite all bad things, she grew her own wings. Unaware, but already a light butterfly. Feeling genuinely happy for the first time. And Pedro would give everything for it.

Isabela: I remember back when I was the lead of the school choir. *dramatically tosses her hair* Nobody still hasn't beat me

Luisa: Not everyone here is soprano

Everyone say thank you american indigenous people for cultivating corn, potatoes, peppers, tomatoes, cacao, pumpkin, squash, and anything i missed. Makes life more meaningful globally

Not a scratch

Luisa's gift made her not only strong but durable. She could stand almost anything with little to no harm

Not everyone was so lucky

For @ailesswhumptober day 3: Survivor guilt

TW for Major character death

She was alive and they were not and Luisa wasn't sure if she would ever forgive herself.

Her gift had gave her a durability nobody else could posses. When anything, no matter how strong it was barely scratched her tough skin. She was the one able to windstand anything and don't feel a pinch of discomfort. And it wasn't a real secret for anyone including herself.

Nobody had predicted the rockslide, when the heavy mountains creaked, sending down a chill of shattered boulders. When the stone was crashing against her, never able to harm Luisa. She held her ground, trying to hold the disaster that was way more massive than her. Pushing Luisa until she had lost the stand, getting burried into the ruthless soil. Mug clung to her blouse, her fingers dug deeper, when she pushed herself out. She wasn't in pain, couldn't be.

She tried to hold it, to do what she was supposed to do. Even if her fingers were getting itchy from pressure, giant drops of sweat running down her face. She was this town's protector. She was supposed to stop destruction. All the pointless deaths thay had occured.

But it was too much and too fast. The weight was grasping out of her hands, jumping over her head.

She tried to hold back her raspy laboured breathing, staring at her sisters. The painful tears stung her eyes. She didn't care if it was childish, if she was supposed to be stronger. They fell over the brim, leaving Luisa's eyes red and swolled. She snivelled, trying to just breathe, but the lungs were filled with debris and dirt. Too tight to let circulation in.. Because she was alive, unharmed.

She did caughed a glimpse of vines for a bare second, palms growing just to be snapped by the unstoppable slide. At first almost relieved, they weren't holding anything back, but Luisa was grateful for the moral support. Until the other problem became prevalent. Isabela was nearby, and her plants only protected her so much until... until she became one of the victims who would never see the other day. Luisa knew her sister was reskless, why the hell hadn't she thrown her away, as far as possible where she would be safe?

And she didn't even know what happened with Mirabel. Assumingly, it was just 'bing in the wrong place in the wrong time'. Just a mere accident that left her breathless and stained with blood. Embroidery all torn apart.

Luisa was supposed to protect them, it was her job, her role. She was the family's protector. The one to ensure they all were safe. That's what her damn gift is for. To hold it all back until no danger was left. The fact was engraved in her memory for as long as Luisa could remember herself. Who the hell was she if she couldn't protect even her own sisters, people who she loved the most in the world. How could she claim she was 'protector' of anything if she didn't manage to save them.

She was unscratched. Of course, her strenght worked to save only herself. Not those she swore to protect. Luisa broke into chaotic sobbing, pulling the bodies into a bear-tight grip. Shaking as if they would suddenly come back to life. The fact of how physically okay she was only twisted her inside further. When she wanted to crush herself underneath a mountain, just so she wouldn't be doing this well

She was choking, unable to breathe between the sobs. The fact of her own breathing, the heart that was racing inside her brain only served as a digusting reminder. She was alive. She was fucking unharmed. It wasn't fair.

Luisa was supposed to protect her sisters, everyone. Prevent all the deaths that not were on her hands because she wasn't good enough. She had swore to defend her town until the last moment of her life. But she didn't manage to save anybody. There were dead casualties, even becides her siblings. And it all was because Luisa didn't manage to hold the rockslide back.

Guilt was gnawling onto her, eating the way inside her body like a bunch of disgusting worms in the apple. Because she was alive to live another day while Mirabel and Isabela were bound to spend the rest of the time in the cold graves deep underground. And it was too painful to imagine. That she would outage Isabela, hrow old while the pair stayed forever young.

She didn't care what the other would think if they see her breaking down as hard as this. She already must be very weak in their eyes, unable to do her goddamn role as protector. Her body trembled against the table, begging, asking her sisters to wake up just to be met with deafing silence. The stuff air that made it impossible to breathe. When the pain was trying to turn her inside out. The guilt pressed heavy just like those rocks buring her into the dust. Only that it actually managed to crash her this time. Weighting her body down with something heavier than the entire Encanto combined. Feeling like her ribs would crash, joints snap under the pressure. Leaving her in invisible agony that was impossible to deal with. She haven't done shit to prevent this from happening. Now, there was the pinch of coldness when her wet face fell into them, body too agonised to hold herself upright.

The fact that Isabela has less votes than Antonío is iconic!

Because what can be better than random time to learn about headcanons ppl have?

Every Tudor rose has its thorns

No matter how little attention people had paid to the fact roses weren't inly beautiful flowers but also the sharp thorns ready for attack the said thorn would never go away

@encantober-official prompt - Rose

Isabela was perfect. Her life was coloured, decarated with the finest flowers. Elegant petals rose whenever whe went. Leaving a trail. Beautiful and elegant. Her hair wouldn't have a single strand wrong, always brushed until there's no even the smallest bunch that's messed. Her dress was flowing over her, elegant airy sleeves gently curled over her skin. Each stitch of her dress was perfect. Being created by Encanto's best seamstresses, decorated by the greatest embroiderers. Not a single seam would ever go wrong. Not a single snitch could fall off. It was perfect, just like Isabela.

Flowers were pretty. Isabela spent her days pleasing everyone's eye. Elegant pose, flowing movements. Like the sea waters, ruffling the algas leaves. Soft and delicate, what everyone wanted her to be. World best actress never needed a stage for her performance. Because the act didn't wither. No matter if her stomach clutched in disgust at the very thought of marrying Mariano. This wasn't about her. It was for the family. Abuela would be so upset if Isabela didn't do as she told. And Isabela was a good girl. Good girls didn't upset anyone.

Isabela trained herself. So she never took a wrong step. Always gracious. Perfect like an angel. Petals falling behind her, sweet smell attracting bees. Good thing the didn't get stings allergy from their dad like Luisa did. It would look imperfect if Isabela had huge swellings over her body. And it wasn't like Isabela could go heal during the day. She didn't want to stain her airy dress with an accidental crumb falling on it.

Even if sometimes she snapped. When vile inside was boiling, unwillingly spreading out before Isabela could even think of it. Hitting what she could, twisting it between the sharp thorns of her tongue. If anyone dared to say a wrong word, make a wrong look, the anger was rising inside her chest with each breath. Ready to attack before anyone else got a chance. Agression prinkled from her skin, sharp and ready to hit. Not exactly a proper lady behavior. But, no matter how much Isabela bit her tongue, trying to swallow this feeling deeper, sometimes it broke out. And Isabela bit.

She never knew why she acted this way. Anger just took a hold of her. Pushing and boiling under the surface. Until her veins were withered. And bile pushed her all the way until Isabela couldn't breathe. It was wrong. Alma wanted her to be like a rose. Not some cactus that would lash out on anyone.

But... roses have thorns, don't they?

It was a bitter irony. With the pretty flower, so often people forgot that their thick green stems had sharp claws. Snarling onto whoever came near it. Isabela was the same. Only that you couldn't cut hers out. It wasn't physical to see. But pulsated withing her. Sharpened for some, at then pushed deeper for others. No matter how much Isabela tried to keep them inside. The thorns were a part of the flower. Stronger than Luisa, they broke every scissors that tried to cut them off.

Everyone always overlooked the drawning bloor stems for the nicest smell and the gentlest cups growing over it. They forgot how such pretty flowers weren't pushovers. And Isabela was no different. She fought, attacked no matter how much they forgot it. Sharp tongue, sharp temper. Short and so hot. A burning lava flowing inside her veins. It was ready to burst out like an unstoppable vulcano. Whenever something was out of control, when Isabela was so done she couldn't hold it in.

She wanted to be perfect, to keep everyone happy and hold her comprosure. But the thorns attacked whenever anyone tried to push her too far. Angry. Too snappy to be accepted as normal. Isabela had long learnt it wasn't about what she wanted. It was about the family. SHe had to be perfect so bad parts of their lives would't get discovered. Blossom making sure nobody pays attention to where it grows or what was happening around it.

It hurt. Always holding everything back. Trying to stop sharp greenery but being unable to do so at all. She wanted to be good, she had spent hours trying tomake sure the edges of her smile wouldn't falter. Days when Isabela embellished those graceful poses into her mind with the pain and tears. Isabela knew her act couldn't falter. Sweet in natute. But with the spite rooting deep within her.

Even if Isabela knew it wasn't a proper, 'ladylike' behavior, she couldn't stop it. Regardless of how many times her mind tried to knock into her head that she couldn't upset anyone. And she was for sertain sure she did. No matter how painful the thorns were hitting whoever was close the moment anything got out of control. Painful, leaving Isabela's fingers stained in blood which was invisible to anyone but her. Because they never took rose thorns into account.

So if I'm on it... I feel the fandom has (or had in early days when there were many people, it's only a handful who still in) a huge problem with Luisa's hyper-feminisation.

Yes, I'm talking about the poytrayal of Luisa as somebody obsessed with pink, delicate things. At the same time being unable to hurt a fly.

Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with the idea that Luisa would love lace, cotton and everything what is associated with (traditional) feminity. She can do it all she wants, that's womderful. The problem is that sometimes people act like this is the only way Luisa can express her gentle and feminine side by acting ONLY the way stereotypical feminization wants. And turn it to the most extreme point. Because, essentially it actually makes her look more masculine. As it often does look like a over-compensation for her more masculine-associated traits physical, which she CANNOT control (deep voice, very tall height and muscles). Why does Luisa have to be pushed into the whole girly girl thing so much conpared to the rest? It just looks like ppl try to make it up for what in her is not typical for women. So if she can't look small and delicate in stature and strenght she has to be the most feminine personality and interests-wise not to be concidered a man in a dress. Which is VERY messed up.

Because, surprize, Luisa is not more masculine by default to have and compensate for it. Why is the idea of Luisa wearing pants seems to frustate more people compared to the other girls? Why is she the one who would be jealous of pre-wecid Isabela's style? When Dolores and Mirabel would probably have far more reasons to do so just because of trauma. Luisa can enjoy masculine things amd femiline things. She doesn't have to go all over with feminization to be put in line with the rest of the girls.

And what is even worse is that by extension in a lot of the stereotypical potrayals of Luisa her positive masculine-associated traits are being swapped onto the opposite ones, which are aften viewed as negative and stereotypically being labeled on women. Such as always needing protection/somebody who speak up to her and saved her (while we clearly see Luisa as extremely protective over Mirabel during Surface Pressure). Or exaggerate her emotionality and vulnerability to the point she breaks into tears for the smallest things. Which honestly has very misogynistic implications. As it gets an idea that women (and feminine people as whole) are always weaker and unable to defend themselves. Or that their emotions are always very strong and irrational. And this is definitely not good thing to imply. As I did say, it turns into a godamn misogyny at this point where for Luisa being girly associated with the literal opposite of her character.

Again, there's nothing wrong with imagining that Luisa would love feminine, girly things. But there's also nothing wrong with Luisa preffering practical and simple style. And pushing her out of character just to make her more conventionally feminine isn't a good thing to do. She's a woman regardless of what she looks like and pushing the idea that she MUST look sertain way to be one is really bad. I can understand that most people never think that they make it all look like attepmt to compensate for non-typical look and actually have good intentions. Wanting to show that the way your body looks doesn't have to match your personality/interestsm. And that women like Luisa can still be very feminine. But in the end the entire thing gets very dimolished by the fact that Luisa is being basically forced into hyperbolisation where she can't express anything even remotely related to masculinity.

I know this gonna sound odd but I feel people must know that despite Luisa wanting some break and vulnerability doesn't mean that she WOULDN'T kick ass, like I feel people in the fandom don't draw her enough doing it, I still acknowledge that she also wants to be chilling and calm but I feel for a character like her a middle ground is perfect, hell now noticing in general many things about her character makes sense if put in a middle ground (and funnily enough she is the middle sister)

Encantober 2024 Bingo: Truth

There had to be a rather awkward, melancholy moment during the rebuilding where Isabela told Mariano the truth to his face.

I imagine it was hard for both of them.

(Also personal HC time! Mariano's abuela owns and operates the only "fancy" (read-she makes people get reservations because snooty Sra. Guzman is funny to me) restaurant in town, Los Amores. Restaurant is based off of a real restaurant in Colombia, though I forgot the name.)

@encantober-official

Camilo: *screams in emo*

Luisa: ???? *confused noises*

Camilo: I wasn't casted as a creepy dead old man!

Luisa: Uhm... you weren't casted as who???

Camilo: As Bittlejuice

We need a new foundation

For many years, Luisa was used for people acting like her physical strength was the only way she could be useful.

Abuela was the least person from whom she had expected a difference

@encantober-official prompt — Build

Luisa groans, rubbing her eyes. She reached for the steaming coffee pot. The family was slowly getting used to their lack of magic. It still hurt tho. Like an essential part of her was ripped out, leaving nothing but a gaping hole that Luisa didn't know how to fill.

The breakfast table was noisy. Even more so than before Casita's collapse. Adjusting was going slowly but surely. Even if an idea of taking a break (not even talking about a whole day off) still felt like a bizarre dream that Luisa would never have on reality. Because there was always something to do, no matter if it was a holiday or the weekend. There was always more work to pile up and carry on her shoulders. Like a dozen of brisks. Of course, now when family suddenly acknowledged Luisa didn't have to work all the time (that she wasn't completely worthless if she wasn't constantly serving others). It just... Didn't feel right. This idea was burned into her brain for the past fourteen years just to break away in just one night.

Seeing somebody else doing her job was strange. Luisa had to bury down her wish to go and help Papá and Tío Felix to carry the table outside. Even without her gift, Luisa still turned to be stronger than anyone else. It just didn't feel right.

She dropped into her chair, taking a big sip of her bitter dark coffee. Okay, sure, they would eat and Luisa is sailed at work. Cleaning the space and all this stuff. Collapse had left a huge mess. Well, sort of what you could expect from a giant house getting destroyed. 

Abuela lifted her skirt, stepping out of the house. She looked over the family, whoever was awake by now and ready to help. Honestly, if anyone's change felt so strange, it was her. Abuela still was strict, but the way she expressed love now was so much bigger. She acted so much more sweet with everyone. Doesn't mean Luisa had anything against it. She just needed some time to get used to the screen. And proper manners only added to Abuela’s gentleness.

"Good morning, how's today?" She asked, holding her wrinkled palms together. Luisa leaned on the back of her chair, sipping black drink "Do you plan on working today? I am going at meeting to plan new building." Her face turned to her granddaughter. "Luisa, do you want to come?"

Luisa blinked, her eye twitched. Did she hear it right? "What?" She re-asked, very confused. Why would Abuela even suggest her to help with planning and... well, mental tasks? 

"It's better to get together everyone who has more or less experience in building or construction." The old woman explained. "You have some buildings in your story, made singularly by you, if I’m not mistaken"

Luisa bit her lip. It was right, sure. Her endless list of chores included building hew places or the maintenance of old. It made sense, taking her immense strength that could compete with the whole town combined. But there still was enough rubbish to get rid off. And Luisa was the strongest in the town even without her gift, so she would be a huge help in her normal part of carrying heavy things. And the idea that Abuela, out of all people, asked to help her with something that wasn’t s form of hard exhausting job...  

"You don't have to agree." Her Papá got into the talk. "If you don't want to–"

"No, no." Luisa had cut him off roughly. "I just didn't expect this." Again, it was Luisa's job to do physical manual labour. Not mind tasking. She was the one to do things without questioning why she had to do them. And now, nobody else than her own grandmother wanted her to get with something other than that. "Are you sure, Abuela? I mean, there's still a lot of cleaning." 

Alma nodded. "If you want to help with taking old debris out, it's okay. I just feel like you have enough knowledge to help with blueprints. Especially as the one who both lived in Casita and knows about construction as well."

This felt strange. Even with all the talk that happened a while ago, with somebody telling Luisa she wasn't just her strength. The thought of being needed in other way... Just seemed abnormal. Especially when Luisa seemed to be the strongest person in the village even now, bounded by human limit. And she just assumed it made sense for her to keep helping with physical job she always did. But instead, Abuela suggested her to help with something that didn't requested her physical strength but rather Luisa's knowledge and experience. Abuela who no even a month ago would praise Luisa for her physical strength and how she was always ready to serve their community. Now was the one to get Luisa to do something that didn’t require her ability. Abuela was the one to make them serve community and help with their gifts so much. But now the one to try and seek beyond Luisa’s.

Luisa wasn't really used to he seen outside of brute power. But... she had to admit, it felt nice in a way. Being acknowledged as someone other than the one who can carry anything. Just unexpected. Luisa wondered for years if anyone could ever see her as anything other than a pack animal on whom they could throw every burden. And after now, once they started all this healing, Luisa wasn’t sure how long would it take for anyone to just think. Understand her. Perhaps that’s what’s happening when you put your self-worth at the fact of how useful you could be for years.

And she certainly didn’t mind helping again. Maybe get her chance to shine and tear the old threads a bit more. Maybe the fact that she still was stronger than anyone pushed her back into her role a bit. Unintentionally, but if Luisa thought about it, she still tended to work more than heeded. Doing her best to be helpful.

"I'm on it!" Luisa nodded, a little unsured. She took a deep breath, getting her composure. "When do we start?"

Reblog to let your mutuals know. . .

that they are appreciated. that they are important. that they are amazing. that they are creative. that they are loved.

No matter how long you take to reply, what mood you are in, how insecure you are feeling about your writing, or how active you are — your presence is still very much enjoyed. You never have to apologize or feel bad for taking a while with a reply, or not answering an ask right away. Life can get busy, energy can fluctuate, interest can shift, and emotions can change. You are human and these things do not make you a bad person/partner.

We write together because it is fun and enjoyable, not because it is expected of you to answer every little thing at the snap of fingers.

Figured I'd continue the trend of showing off some amazing artists who have done amazing work for me

This was a commission by the lovely itsmeaxumii ✨️my suntrio on a little date☀️☁️💛

Dolores: You know how they say opposites are attrected to each other.

Dolores, looking at Carlota, who's baker and Isabela, who has more chance to burn down the house while boiling water than to cook anything:

Dolores: I fully get it now

Not sure if I should put bingo in the main but well

Lay all your love on me

Mariano didn't really love the one her was betrothed for. But the idea of upsetting his family was just too much

Encantober prompt - Poetry

AHHH ITS HERE ITS TIME

Looking back, his relationship with Isabela were always stiff. Mariano was a huge romantic, dreaming about someone to cradle in his arm and swoop off their feet. Someone elegant and gracious. But it was never like this around her. As much as Isabela was beautiful and majestic. It never felt real. Mariano wasn't even attracted to her to begin with. There was someone else he loved. But he got nervous. Made a mistake. And then his Mamá was so happy her boy wanted to ask Isabela Madrigal out. Señorita who's skin was delucate and soft like flower petals, who was everyone's dream.

And Isabela agreed. Mariano just... He couldn't break her heart. It wasn't right and he knew it, but he wasn't able to do anything. He wanted Isabela to be happy. And if she loved him, it wouldn't be very gentleman of Mariano to break her heart. So he swallowed his own feelings. His family wanted this marriage, it would bring them a huge honour. And she adored it so much. It... it just was wrong to break her heart. Everyine expected Mariano to marry Isabela, so what could he do? 

Sometimes, just for a second, when nobody looked, Isabela woupd flinch. Or her face would lose its graceful smile. For just a second. Before the Madrigal rose returned to who she always was. An elegant angel. Something inside Mariano pinged with guilt. Worried that he accidentally made her uncomfortable. So he pulled away. A gentleman must treat his woman (even if he didn't actually love her) with all respect on the world. 

He forced himself to look at Isabela, try to admire her like everyone expected him to. Even if he didn't feel that sparkle within his soul. When their dates feel so stiff that each of them could as well talk to the trees. And probably get way more of an actual conversation from it. It feels awkward. Nothing like the romance in his books. But again, how could he judge? Books always had mutual feelings. And even if Isabela was beautiful, Mariano didn't actually love her this way. But the idea of breaking her heart was so gutwretching. So what if Mariano has to live with soneone he loves, who is the one he longs for. But not being bethoded to her, just watching from the side. So close but out of reach.

When he wrote poetry he desperately tried not to think about whom he loved. But he couldn't help it. And felt so awful. Would it be considered cheating? He didn't want to be a bad husband. Even if he didn't love Isabela romantically, he wanted the best for her. And he wanted to be a decent partner even if she wasn't the one he loved. Mariano would train himself. Create a perfect marriage his family wanted. He was supposed to be an example for his siblings and cousins. This felt like a Shakespeare story, kiving somebody so much but never enough. 

Dolores is his everything.   

Now, after that engagement was broken, Mariano didn't have to date someone he doesn't have feeling for.  And the most ridiculous part of their relationship was that apparently Mariano was wrong about 'Breaking Isabela's heart' As it turned out she agreed to date him for exactly the same reason Mariano dated her. It was family pressure. They laughed so hard when they talked about it, the situation was so ridiculous it didn't feel real. As apparently they were the biggest idiots in the world.

But, with Dolores, Mariano loves her greatly. In burning words that spill onto the paper. He doesn't have to force himself to write for so long his eyes get eyebags. It just flowing naturally. He doesn't have to force himself like it's some chore. Because Mariano in fact wanted to write for Dolores. She filled his heart with such awful joy. Just looking into her eyes made him the happiest man on Earth. It hust feels free. They ran over the town, laighing. Cuddle together. Mariano didn't feel like he had to force himself just to make his family happy. Because this time, he was dating because he was in love. Not wanted to make his family happy, he simply loved Dolores. More than anyone else. She was like a muse. A star that came down from the sky, blindingly bright. So he could whisper his most secretive dreams to her. And turn them alive. 

And Dolores loved him back. With a hot heart. Not pretending into awkward dates where either wished for nothing more than escape. But a genuiely happy situation for them both. And now, Mariano hoped it would last forever. They spent every moment like the last in their lives. Every line Mariano wrote Dolores met with a dreamy look in her eyes. Full of adoration and passion to match him.

He could stand in the plaza, reading poetry for hours, and Dolores would look like she was bursting with adoration. She loved every word the paper had whispered. So Mariano couldn't stop. And luckily, one look into his muse's eyes was enough to inspire him. Make him detemined to see those sparkles deep inside again and again. So they would burn bright like stars above their heads. 

Lay all your love on me

Mariano didn't really love the one her was betrothed for. But the idea of upsetting his family was just too much

@encantober-official prompt - Poetry

AHHH ITS HERE ITS TIME

Looking back, his relationship with Isabela were always stiff. Mariano was a huge romantic, dreaming about someone to cradle in his arm and swoop off their feet. Someone elegant and gracious. But it was never like this around her. As much as Isabela was beautiful and majestic. It never felt real. Mariano wasn't even attracted to her to begin with. There was someone else he loved. But he got nervous. Made a mistake. And then his Mamá was so happy her boy wanted to ask Isabela Madrigal out. Señorita who's skin was delucate and soft like flower petals, who was everyone's dream.

And Isabela agreed. Mariano just... He couldn't break her heart. It wasn't right and he knew it, but he wasn't able to do anything. He wanted Isabela to be happy. And if she loved him, it wouldn't be very gentleman of Mariano to break her heart. So he swallowed his own feelings. His family wanted this marriage, it would bring them a huge honour. And she adored it so much. It... it just was wrong to break her heart. Everyine expected Mariano to marry Isabela, so what could he do? 

Sometimes, just for a second, when nobody looked, Isabela woupd flinch. Or her face would lose its graceful smile. For just a second. Before the Madrigal rose returned to who she always was. An elegant angel. Something inside Mariano pinged with guilt. Worried that he accidentally made her uncomfortable. So he pulled away. A gentleman must treat his woman (even if he didn't actually love her) with all respect on the world. 

He forced himself to look at Isabela, try to admire her like everyone expected him to. Even if he didn't feel that sparkle within his soul. When their dates feel so stiff that each of them could as well talk to the trees. And probably get way more of an actual conversation from it. It feels awkward. Nothing like the romance in his books. But again, how could he judge? Books always had mutual feelings. And even if Isabela was beautiful, Mariano didn't actually love her this way. But the idea of breaking her heart was so gutwretching. So what if Mariano has to live with soneone he loves, who is the one he longs for. But not being bethoded to her, just watching from the side. So close but out of reach.

When he wrote poetry he desperately tried not to think about whom he loved. But he couldn't help it. And felt so awful. Would it be considered cheating? He didn't want to be a bad husband. Even if he didn't love Isabela romantically, he wanted the best for her. And he wanted to be a decent partner even if she wasn't the one he loved. Mariano would train himself. Create a perfect marriage his family wanted. He was supposed to be an example for his siblings and cousins. This felt like a Shakespeare story, kiving somebody so much but never enough. 

Dolores is his everything.   

Now, after that engagement was broken, Mariano didn't have to date someone he doesn't have feeling for.  And the most ridiculous part of their relationship was that apparently Mariano was wrong about 'Breaking Isabela's heart' As it turned out she agreed to date him for exactly the same reason Mariano dated her. It was family pressure. They laughed so hard when they talked about it, the situation was so ridiculous it didn't feel real. As apparently they were the biggest idiots in the world.

But, with Dolores, Mariano loves her greatly. In burning words that spill onto the paper. He doesn't have to force himself to write for so long his eyes get eyebags. It just flowing naturally. He doesn't have to force himself like it's some chore. Because Mariano in fact wanted to write for Dolores. She filled his heart with such awful joy. Just looking into her eyes made him the happiest man on Earth. It hust feels free. They ran over the town, laighing. Cuddle together. Mariano didn't feel like he had to force himself just to make his family happy. Because this time, he was dating because he was in love. Not wanted to make his family happy, he simply loved Dolores. More than anyone else. She was like a muse. A star that came down from the sky, blindingly bright. So he could whisper his most secretive dreams to her. And turn them alive. 

And Dolores loved him back. With a hot heart. Not pretending into awkward dates where either wished for nothing more than escape. But a genuiely happy situation for them both. And now, Mariano hoped it would last forever. They spent every moment like the last in their lives. Every line Mariano wrote Dolores met with a dreamy look in her eyes. Full of adoration and passion to match him.

He could stand in the plaza, reading poetry for hours, and Dolores would look like she was bursting with adoration. She loved every word the paper had whispered. So Mariano couldn't stop. And luckily, one look into his muse's eyes was enough to inspire him. Make him detemined to see those sparkles deep inside again and again. So they would burn bright like stars above their heads. 

Pt2 of the art trade- wanted to post bugsmitten_'s part because- well just look at it, it's spectacular 💛

(With permission ofc)