#elmira 2024

[deebeeus]

Fresh from the Folkway Music booth at the Elmira Vintage Guitar Show, and most definitely the unique-est guitar in the whole room, a FACTORY BLACK 1965 Gibson ES-355!How many (original) black 355s have you seen??

[yangularoo]

Art Fight revenge and a bday present for SapphireSpider on AF !

Roo on AF

[grantmentis]

Greg Fargo, new PWHL New York coach, qualifications and interesting facts:

2008-2012 Elmira College Women’s Hockey Coach (DIII) ECAC West coach of the year 2009 and two time nominee for for AHCA Coach of the Year

Colgate women’s hockey head coach from 2012 to now winning AHCA coach of the year in 2018 and ECAC coach of the year in 2021. He helped Colgate win their first ECAC championship and then two more. Led the program to their first two frozen four apperances in 2018 and 2024

Assistant coach for the Canadian women’s hockey u-18 team in 2016

Some notable past players he coached/helped develop in college who aren’t in this draft: Annika Zalewski, Breanna Wilson-Bennett, Olivia Zafuto, Jessie Eldridge, Catherine Quirion, Bailey Larson, Malia Schneider, Tanner Gates, Rosalie Demers, Kristýna Kaltounková, Avery Pickering, Elyssa Biederman, Sydney Morrow,

Current PWHL draft prospects that Fargo had coached: Noemi Neubauerová, Danielle Serdachny, Sydney Bard, Dara Greig, Allyson Simpson, Kayle Osborne, Kaitlyn O’Donohoe

[lightofraye]

https://www.tumblr.com/rrahuntersblog/756303389366878208/you-lot-need-to-learn-to-stop-projecting-your

I’m so sorry, but this got long. I hope you don’t mind posting my countering this anon's BS claims. I know you didn’t have the patience to do it yourself, but I can’t just let those ridiculous assumptions pass. If you’re willing, please find my rebuttals below.

"Deluding yourself to actually believe he hates Misha when he doesn’t.

- Who said Jensen hates Misha? Most Misha critical people certainly said Jensen looks like he doesn’t enjoy Misha's Elmira (?) (From Loony Toons) like hugs. And we have said they are not besties, but former colegues/work friends, at best.

"It’s not Jensens fault that he has to try to be the peace keeper between the fandom, Blame the fandom not Misha or Jensen.

- When has Jensen ever lifted a finger to play peacekeeper? He’s too afraid of upsetting his physcho stans to grow a pair and confront haters. Jared is the one who tries to keep the peace, even though he is the one who gets the most irrational hate thrown at him.

- Also, Misha is VERY MICH to blame for the fracture in fandom, and fur deliberately feeding heller delusions.

"And Jensen didn’t Pander last night, that’s just your projection,"

- Sorry, Anon. You don’t know what Jensen thinks anymore than we do. So the fact that you THINK he ISN'T pandering is simply YOUR projection. I think he was, which means he was laying his Misha praise on thick.

"And to say that Jensen is not close to Misha when crew members and other cast members has stated for years that Jensen and misha are particularly close to each other"

- Can you produce proof of that beyond the cast and crew saying they ALL get along, where they actually single out Jensen and Misha as "particularly close"? I’m guessing no.

- What is VERY well documented is recurring cast, guest stars, and Misha himself describing how J2 were so close that they basically existed in their own bubble, one that Misha was left out of often

"and Jensen said that he honestly loves Misha as a friend multiple times."

- 🙄 ALL of the cast, or many, have said they ALL love each other. Apparently, Jared and Misha say, or said in the past, "Love you, brother," too. This is NOT special to Jensen and Misha.

- Also, it is questionable how sincere it was, seeing as Misha has repeatedly thrown Jensen under the destiel bus. … when Jensen was very clearly annoyed by the invadice fandom response to the ship. That isn’t what you do if you love your friend.

- Jensen also takes shots and small digs at Misha just as often, if not much more so, than he gives him praise. So, doesn't that mean he hates Misha? Probably not. Doesn’t it make them besties? Probavky not. Also, do you truly think the entire SPN cast, even the ones on the con circuit, truly all "love" each other? Seems unlikely to me. Getting along is not love. And there is also a hierarchy among the cat, and J2 are together at the top. I think a Jensen likes a Rob a whole lot more than Misha, before you think I’m trying to blindly argue in Hared's favor.

“It’s clearly your feelings of hatred for misha that you project this obvious lie about Jensen and Misha not being close."

- It’s clearly your gullibility and slavish love for Misha and a stupid ship that makes you blind to the fact that actors can say something on stage, for the benefit of the audience, without it actually being a true reflection of their personal lives.

- Also, Jensen and Misha themselves noted that they hadn’t spoken, spoken NOT seen, each other for several moths between the last con of 2023 and the first con of 2024. That sounds super "close," to me.

"Grow up and open your eyes"

- Perhaps you should take your own advice, dear. Stop believing anything Misha Pandering Queerbaiter Colins says, and you’ll be closer to seeing the more likely reality of the situation. Jensen, in fact, probably dies not hate Misha, but I sincerely doubt he thinks about him much when he isn’t standing in front of him at a con, either.

- People who have loved J2’s closeness over the years had evidence like them living together and vacationing together to support their friendship. Cockles fans have one PR boat trip and Misha milking the fact that Jensen let him stay at his apartment when filming on occasion (something that I think Jared did, too. But I wonder why Misha only shared about one … pandering, perhaps?). Misha filmed for like 3 days a week when he worked, so that doesn’t have to make them overly close, either.

Anyway Anon, stop just believing lip service because you want it to be true, and pay attention to actions, and things like body language and tone of voice. Those things can tel, you more at times than words.

Hi there!

Thanks for the rebuttal.

Here it is.

I appreciate it.

[hannahhook7744]

Where Are You Now? (Cause I'm Thinking Of You);

Cover:

Summary: The family wakes up thirteen years after Bruno returned to the family to find him gone yet again. They naturally freak out. Trigger Warnings: disappearances, premature labor, near death experiences, mention of homelessness, overworking of a pregnant woman, minor violence, guilt, fear for a loved one, etc. Encantober 2024: Return. Co-written with @igetthedisneybox .

------------------------------------------------------------

Bruno was gone—gone without a note. 

Again.

“Oje. Has anybody seen Bruno?” Alma asked a small handful of the family. The others were out in town, but according to Dolores, she hadn’t heard him out there either.

Everyone present either shook their heads, or couldn’t hear her over the chattering of the family. Casita was getting awfully crowded these days.

Squeak. 

Alma looked to her left and saw one of Dolores’ four-year-old twins, Elmira, standing there, looking wide-eyed. She definitely took after her mother.

Her and her twin’s skin was lighter than their mother's, but darker than their grandmother's and just a shade darker than their father’s. But where Princesa had teal eyes and blonde hair, Elmira had her mother’s dark brown eyes and curly light brown hair. 

“Chiquita,” Alma called. “Do you know where Tío Abuelo Bruno is?”

She looked down at her feet guiltily, before quietly answering—always the more mindful twin when it came to her mother’s hearing—“No.”

Alma saddled over to the four year old. Her bones creaked with each step, and she muttered curses under her breath, glad that Elmira didn’t have any superhearing like Dolores. 

“Elli, If you know something about Tío Abuelo Bruno, can you tell me please?” She looked at her great-granddaughter kindly.

“He saids he'd be back.”

“Did he say where he was going?” Panic spiked in Alma’s heart. She couldn’t lose her Brunito again.

Elmira shook her head. “He saws somethin’ bad.”

Alma felt her hands begin to shake, but she clenched them into fists. Elmira didn’t need to see her panic like this. “Thank you for telling me, Elmira.”

“De nada, abuela.” Elmira fidgeted with her skirt, looking over at her mother. “Mamá, I'm hungry.” 

Dolores had heard her from the other side of the room, of course, and came over to pick her daughter up. “I think Tío will be fine, Abuela.” She whispered to her.

“I hope you're right, Nieta.” Alma sighed. 

------------------------------------------------------------

Word got around the Encanto fast that the Madrigal’s beloved seer was once again missing and, before an hour was even up, the entire family was back at the Casita.

Panicking. 

The exact opposite of what Alma wanted. 

“My padres, Félix’s Papá, and the Guzmáns are keeping an eye out for him as we speak.” Agustín said, trying to soothe a crying Julieta. 

“Mi vida, your hermanito will be fine, I promise.” Félix claimed, circling around a pacing Pepa who was murmuring ‘clear skies’ for the first time in eleven years. 

Luisa was also having a hard time staying calm, gently cradling one of her own twins—Emilia and Tito—while her husband, Ryder, held the other and tried to comfort her. 

“You don’t th-think he left the Encanto for good, do you?” She asked, addressing the elephant in the room; the question no one wanted to ask.

“What? No, of course not. Tío Bruno wouldn't do that—he loves the family.” Mirabel protested immediately. “Elmira said he saw something right?” 

“He also saw something when he left the first time.” Camilo mentioned. His own wife, Yanamaria, was standing several feet away from him, sipping on a drink. Camilo had adopted her twin daughters, Amelia and Sofia, after marrying her three months ago when the pair were only two months old. 

Alma wasn't sure she liked the young lady. But maybe her judgment was being clouded by his past two lackluster relationships and the fact that she privately thought Camilo’s best friend, Mina, would be a much better (and kinder) wife  for him.  Not that she would ever voice these thoughts to him. She had learned her lesson after Agustín, thank you very much. 

Dolores elbowed Camilo, hissing. “Camilo.”

“What? I can't tell the truth? He did!”

“What I'm saying is that he probably just ran off to prevent whatever he saw from happening and once he does that, he'll be back. Because he knows he can trust us now.” Mirabel continued looking very confidently, wrangling her hands together, acting as if she hadn't heard her 'mellizo’. 

Isabela nodded along. “Mira’s right. We need to trust Tío Bruno. It’s the least we can do.”

“And besides, Señor Bruno promised Elmira he'd walk her to her door. He wouldn't break his promise.” Bubo chimed in from the doorway, startling everyone because he and Miguel had left with Antonio to watch the rest of the children before the conversation had started. 

Julieta sniffed and whipped at her eyes. “Dios mío, look at me. Sitting here crying like a bebé. You all are right.”

“That’s the spirit, Mi esposa.” Agustín hummed, resting a hand on her shoulder; Alma couldn’t help but be surprised by how much calmer he was being than the rest of them. That wasn't to say that he didn't care, however, because she could still see the nervousness in his eyes—unlike with Yanamaria, who seemed like she couldn't care less. At least Raimi and Rosa were acting serious, for once.

------------------------------------------------------------

“Mamá!” Arlo whined, immediately reaching out to her the moment Isabela stepped into the room. 

Zoey was snoring in the crib next to him and Miguel Jr—who they'd named after Mirabel’s husband, Miguel Rivera, after he'd delivered them when he and Isabela had gotten lost in a storm while out in the forest—was laughing at something. 

Isabela hadn't been thrilled to have triplets at first. Far from it in fact, but the older they got the more the florist grew to love them. Arlo especially.

“Hey, nene. Mamá’s here.” She scooped her baby into her arms, gently brushing his black hair from his forehead. He had his father's nose but everyone could already tell that he was going to grow up to be a mama’s boy. 

“Missed you.” Arlo declared, resting his tiny head on her shoulder. His tiny fist clenched tightly around the flower plushie Mirabel had made for Zoey. Somehow, the bear plushie Mirabel had made for him and the one she'd made for Zoey kept getting mixed up—no matter how many times they'd switched them back. 

If she didn't know better, Isabela would almost say that they were doing it on purpose. The fact that Migeul Jr’s wolf plushie never got mixed up with them only made her more sure of her suspicions. But it wasn't as if she could get confirmation from her children—they didn't even speak in full coherent sentences yet. 

“I missed you too, mi flor. And your hermanos, obviously.”

Zoey snored louder. Chubby hands squeezing the colorful bear plushie that she was chewing on. 

And Miguel Jr laughed innocently once again, clapping. Completely oblivious to the mild panic his tías, primos, and padres were feeling over his favorite great uncle’s second disappearance. 

Isabela could only hope that Mirabel's suspicions over why it had happened were correct. She didn't know if she could handle losing her uncle for another decade.

------------------------------------------------------------

Mariano was not fond of discourse.

But when one joins a familia like the Madrigals, bad things happen sometimes.

As of now, Mariano could only hold his wife and children close, and hope that everything would turn out okay.

Oscar seemed to be able to tell that something was going on and was crying quietly—which had been very concerning in the first couple of months after he was born a year ago before it had been confirmed that he was for sure healthy. 

Princesa was oblivious and looking at herself in her madre’s favorite golden hand held mirror that Mariano had gifted Dolores on their first date. Striking a pose she had seen her favorite character on the strange box that Auradon called a television do numerous times. 

Elmira, on the other hand, was sitting quietly in his arms. Looking thoughtful.

Dolores had dozed off at some point. 

“Oscar, are you alright?” Mariano asked his son softly.

The bebé shook his head, causing his brown curls to fall into his eyes. Causing him to frown as he clung to his madre (who thankfully had her earplugs in). “Mamá sad.” 

Oscar had definitely inherited Mariano’s big heart. “I know, mijo. But she will get better, I promise.”

In truth, Mariano had no idea if Bruno would come back.

He was the head of a small ensemble of men and women who’d decided to watch over the town’s entrance, and make sure that there were no civil disputes between its citizens. Handling the few crimes that came up every now and then in whatever capacity he could. He probably should have noticed Bruno leaving, but he’d been trying to settle an argument turned physical between Abraham Cerebro de Burro and his very own brother-in-law, Ryder Nattura, over the donkey farmer’s new fence and lock. Or lack therefore of. 

Which had been very hard to handle considering that an hour into the argument, Mariano had been about ready to throttle the man himself. Señora Alma had demanded a hundred times that he replace the damn lock on his estúpido fence but the cheap bastardo still refused to replace it—even when his own children pleaded with him to do it. 

Mariano had lost count of just how many times Luisa had had to chase after the man’s donkeys because of the farmer’s stinginess. 

The man was lucky that Luisa was even still willing to help him chase after the donkeys after the stress he had caused her during her pregnancy. Luisa and Ryder’s twins weren't even supposed to be born yet but had been anyway the last time the donkeys had got out a month ago. After which the farmer had promised he'd really replace the lock that was older than Mariano was for real this time. 

Or maybe the fool was just lucky because of how apologetic his children were whenever Luisa had to fix his mess. 

He was starting to get angry again just remembering the encounters, but Elmira snuggled against him, which jerked him back to the present.

“Papá?” 

He pulled his full attention to his daughter. “Si, mi corazón?”

“Lo lamento...” She bit her lip, eyes welling up. 

“What? Elli, you have nothing to be sorry for!” Mariano pulled her even closer, gently running his hands through her curls.

“But I saws Tío Bruno go.” The brunette sniffled. “Ands Abuela Pepa cryin’.” 

“That wasn’t your fault.” He stated firmly, well aware of the fact that it was something his younger Prima-en-ley had needed to hear twenty three years ago but never had: the last time señor Bruno had left. 

“¿Promesa?” Her big brown eyes met his own as she stuck her thumb in her mouth. A nervous habit they hadn't gotten her to shake yet. 

“Promesa.” Mariano kissed her on the forehead.

“I'm tired.” She yawned quietly, resting her head on his chest. 

“Then why don’t we all go and take a siesta? Maybe Tío will be back when we wake up.” He got up from his chair, still holding Elmira. 

Princesa didn't pay either of them any mind. 

“Okay papa.”

------------------------------------------------------------

“Any word on Bruno?” Ryder asked his cuñado, worrying his lip as he replaced the ice pack he'd been holding to his black eye. 

His suegra had offered to cook him something to heal up his injuries that morning when she saw him (after she had found out where and why he'd gotten them) but the reindeer herder had refused. If she healed his minor injuries, then the donkey farmer would find out and demand she heal his minor injuries which could very well spiral into the town once again taking advantage of Julieta's kindness. Something Ryder refused to allow to happen.

And no, it wasn't just because he wanted the donkey farmer to suffer for as long as possible for harassing his wife into doing the very job that could have cost them their children. 

….

Okay maybe part of his reasoning did have to do with that. But given the situation Ryder thought he was allowed to be petty.

“Socorro thought she saw him…but it turned out to be a homeless guy.” Miguel Sr sighed as he plucked on the strings of his guitar.

“Honeymaren hasn't seen anything either but Kristoff said that if Bruno isn't back soon, he'd be willing to ask Grand Pabbie for help.” Ryder offered, uncharacteristically frustrated.

He hated seeing his wife cry—she’d been stressed enough with the early arrival of the twins and the more…stubborn and selfish… townspeople (the number of which had thankfully dwindled over the years) who still asked her for help with every little thing. She hadn't needed this. 

Miguel rolled his eyes. “You mean the pile of rocks?”

“The trolls, yes.” Ryder didn't blame Miguel for his reaction—he didn't trust Kristoff's family very much either. 

Miguel wasn’t in the mood to poke Ryder further, so he let the subject of the ‘trolls’ drop. “Anyway, how far do you think Bruno could have gotten? He’s what, pushing sixty?”

“He’s closer to pushing seventy.” Ryder snorted. “And I honestly don't have a clue. I don't think he's ever left the Encanto alone before—and well, the Madrigal family genes are crazy. I mean his bisabuela is still alive.” 

Despite falling off a cliff on her wedding day, getting near drowned by an octopus, being bitten by a venomous snake, getting electrocuted after sticking a fork in the socket, and having her parachute fail after going skydiving. 

Pedro and Benito's mother sure was something.

“True.” Miguel huffed and placed his guitar away, unable to focus. He was worried about the familia, especially his Mirabel. She claimed she was fine, but he could see right through her.

“All we can hope is that he'll return safely and that our in-laws don't kill him when he does.” Ryder couldn't help but smile at the thought, though he knew it wasn't exactly an appropriate thought to have at the moment.

It was true though, Bruno would be lucky if he made it past Pepa and Isabela alive.

------------------------------------------------------------

“Clear skies, clear skies, clear skies.” Antonio muttered to himself as he anxiously paced, two nervous habits he'd picked up from his mother and was trying to shake. 

It wasn't often the wild child got stressed out enough to use the mantra or pace but considering the situation, the eighteen year old wasn't sure anyone would be able to blame him for it. Tío Bruno was missing again and no one knew where he'd gone. 

He wasn't in the walls. 

Antonio had checked six times and Casita said he wasn't. 

No one in the Encanto other than his little violín had seen him go. 

“Clear skies, clear skies, clear sk—”

“You okay, Tonito?” Camilo had been walking by, when Casita had gotten his attention, and showed him Antonio, about to have a panic attack.

Antonio nearly leapt across the room, not having heard his brother approaching. Which, at any other time, might have been amusing. But given the situation, it was only all the more worrying. “‘Milo, ay dios mío, don't scare me like that!” 

“You better watch your mouth, or Mamá’s gonna zap you.” The barest hint of a smile crossed Camilo’s face.

The animal whisperer rolled his eyes, waving him off—heart still racing. “Don't be a Soplón.”

“I won’t…for a price.” His eyes glinted with familiar mischief.

“Oye! Blackmail? After all I've done for you? I should let Parce eat you.” He wouldn't. He knew it and Camilo knew that it was an empty threat, but it was still a fun one to use. 

Camilo snorted. “I’d love to see Parce try.” His smile vanished. “But seriously, hermanito. Are you okay?”

Antonio thought about it for a moment. Thought about whether or not the little thing he had noticed was enough to worry his brother about. Then, he remembered what Mirabel had always told him ‘If it's big enough to worry or upset you, then say something.’ He bit his lip to give him courage and looked around before biting the bullet and answering. “I can't find Tío Bruno's rats.”

Camilo raised an eyebrow. “Did Parce finally eat them?”

“No, I asked around. Nobody is fessing up and I haven't seen them since he left.” He wrangled his hands, trying to reduce some of his panic. 

“So, you think Tío brought them with him?”

“Sí.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But I don't understand why he'd take them if his leaving is temporary.”

At Camilo's silence, Antonio’s nerves only grew. “I know, I know. It's a pequeño thing but it's just—it’s big enough for me to worry about whether Mirabel is right or not.”

“She’s right. When has Miraboo ever been wrong?” Camilo placed a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. “And look, whatever reason Tío had to bring the rats, I’m sure it’s a good one. Está bien?”

“Está bien.” Antonio let out a shaky breath. “Gracias, hermano.”

------------------------------------------------------------

Mirabel had said what she’d said. And she believed it.

Sort of.

She could lie to her family, but she couldn’t lie to herself. She was worried about Tío Bruno. Very afraid, in fact.

There was a tug on her skirt. 

She looked down, and saw Dolores’ oldest, Princesa. “Hey, ‘Cesa. What’s up?”

“No sad.” The little blonde glared, clutching something behind her back. Something that looked very familiar.

“I’m not sad.” Mirabel immediately deflected. Then she remembered she was talking to a four year old. “Whatcha got there?”

“¡Mentir!” The four year old wasn't fooled and was not amused as she held out one of Bruno's vision tablets. Just where had she gotten that?

She grabs the vision from Princesa. “Wha–where did you find this?!”

“Da Wall. Tío Parce showed me.”

“You went into the walls without adult supervision? Miércoles, Dolores is gonna kill me!”

Princesa shook her head, stubbornly. “No, Tío Parce is a adult. And he went in da wall.”

“Parce is a jaguar!” Mirabel stopped herself before she could argue semantics with a toddler. “Nevermind.” 

She looked at the vision tablet, and immediately blanched at the sight: there was a little girl, around Princesa and Elmira’s age, cowering in a closet filled with crosses on one side in one part of the vision.

On another, there was a little boy standing in front of a younger girl and a baby as a giant of a man towered over them. 

In a third, there was a boy covering his eyes and  screaming as an older boy tried to calm him. 

And in the last part of the vision, there was a boy bruised and bloody holding a rosary. 

So, in short, it was a horrifying vision that a four year old should not have been able to get her hands on. 

“Mierda.” She whispered. “Princesa, go find your Mamí. I need to talk to your Bisabuela right now.” Tucking the vision tablet under her arm, Mirabel tapped her foot on the tile floor. Casita responded, and moved her downstairs to Abuela Alma, who was with Julieta, Pepa, and their husbands.

------------------------------------------------------------

“Abuela!” 

Alma looked up from where she was comforting Julieta, and saw Mirabel speeding towards them with the help of Casita. “Mirabel, what–”

“Princesa found the vision that caused Bruno to leave.” Mirabel held the vision in question close to her chest with one arm, clutching her skirt in the other—it didn't look much different from the one she made shortly before Bruno came back. It was a similar teal color with the family’s different symbols on it, but symbols representing the new spouses and children had been added as well. 

There was a reindeer to represent Luisa’s husband, Ryder Nattura, and a skeletal guitar to represent Mirabel’s own husband, Miguel Rivera. There was a bear costume to represent Isabela’s husband, Bubo. There was a mamabear with a baby bear to represent Camilo's wife and a quill to represent Dolores’ husband, Mariano. There was a violin to represent Elmira and A mirror to represent Princesa, and she had the names of all the ones who were too little to show any clear personality traits sewn into the skirt too. 

Just another not so little detail that showed just how much Mirabel loved their family. 

“What?” Alma stood up. “Let me see.”

“Clear skies clear skies clear skies CLEAR SKIES!”

Thunder rumbled.

Mirabel handed the glass tablet over. 

“Dios mio…” Was all Alma could say when she saw the vision.

“Who are those poor ninos?” Julieta had her hand held over her mouth as she took in the grisly sight.

Augustín pointed. “They’re wherever Bruno is now, I’m sure of it.”

“You think he went to find them?” Félix was clutching Pepa, who was starting to hyperventilate.

Alma let out a shaky sigh. “Knowing my Brunito…most likely.”

“Tío Bruno will likely return when he gets them somewhere safe.” Mirabel would have smiled or sighed in relief at the not quite confirmation that she was right about Bruno not being gone permanently if the vision wasn't so horrifying.

“You think he’ll run into trouble?!” Pepa squeaked. “That man in the vision…Brunito can’t fight! He is too skinny!”

“I don't know.” The seamstress could only hope that her Tío wouldn't do anything too risky….but, seeing how often everyone compared the two of them, she knew that that hope was a fruitless effort. 

Que Dios tenga misericordia de él.

Félix tried to calm Pepa down again. “Bruno is smarter than he seems, eh? He’ll stay out of trouble, especially when there’s children involved.”

Pepa kept taking deep breaths, as Julieta chimed in. “Félix is right. Bruno…he wouldn’t risk the children.”

“What do we tell the others?”

Alma cleared her throat. “We tell them that Bruno is off doing a heroic act. That he is saving children. But, ah—let’s not mention the state of the children.”

“That's probably for the best.”

------------------------------------------------------------

“Tío Bruno’s back!” Antonio whooped as ran back into the Casita, a couple of his animals on his shoulders. 

“What?” Everyone in the sitting room leapt to their feet.

“Cecila said she saw him enter not that long ago! She says he got’s a few people with him.”

Alma and her daughters looked at each other. More people?

“Anyone my son brings into the Encanto is most welcome.” Alma said, albeit hesitantly.

“But what do these people have to do with the children?” Mariano asked, tilting his head. Oscar, in his lap, mimicked him.

“Children?” Antonio looked at his cousins, their partners, his Padres, his tíos, and just basically everyone older than him in confusion before something clicked. “Wait is this about that vision Bruno had that you all refused to show me?”

“Sí.” Alma nodded. “And we did not show you because its contents were much too disturbing for a young man like yourself.”

Antonio did not pout. He did not. But he did shoot Mirabel a betrayal look because honestly, he would have thought his favorite prima would know better than to still treat him as a bebé by now—before Pace tugged on his pants’ leg. Trying to drag him outside, to remind him why he came rushing back to Casita in the first place. 

“Is he close, Tonito?” Camilo asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He’ll admit, he missed his Tío and his telanovas.

Antonio looked at Parce questioningly, getting a growl in return. “Si. He's outside.”

Alma rushed the door. She needed to see her son.

------------------------------------------------------------

Alma stared. 

And stared.

And stared.

And the rest of the family stared with her. None of them quite sure whether or not what they were seeing was real. 

"A little help would be nice." Bruno chuckled awkwardly, a blonde haired toddler in one arm and an even blonder baby in the other. A little red toddler covered in rats clinging to one of his legs anxiously and a grumpy boy with black hair who couldn’t be any older than four or five on the other. 

A teenager and two boys not much younger behind him—arms full of pugs and bags and one boy—one with horrible burns around his milky white, pupiless eyes—even had a frog in his pocket. 

It was quite the sight. 

And that wasn't even covering the fact that the baby was wearing a bag as a diaper and the littlest of the children burlap sacks (or a box, in the boy's case), as clothing. 

“...Bruno Pedro Madrigal Botero where THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?! ” Was the first thing out of Alma’s mouth.

“...Uh, well, you see—remember that place the Auradon folk tried to send me before you set ‘em straight?” Bruno smiled nervously, well aware of the fact all of the kids were cowering behind him. 

“Si?” She shifted nervously, as she continued to take in the state of the children.

“Imayormaynothavebeenthere.”

“YOU WHAT?!”

[rjzimmerman]

From my humble perspective, most bureaucrats working for state or local agencies that "regulate" wildlife are idiots. And, unfortunately, because agencies in states that are predominantly Democrat politically, these bureaucrats tend to be Democrats. Which means they love to throw around state and local regulations that they have no idea how to read in between bites of their donuts and sips of their coffee, and then kill the wildlife species that is otherwise enjoying a nice day because somebody lacked a license. This part of the MAGA obsession with government regulations I understand completely.

I should be arrested, I guess. I don't have a sanctuary, but I have about two dozen squirrels in our yard raiding our bird feeders. So I have bags of peanuts and feed them, hoping the peanut bribery will keep them away from the feeders. Some of the squirrels take the peanuts right from my hand, squat down to chomp and eat, and then look to me with their sorrowful giant eyes for more. I comply.

Excerpt from this Rolling Stone story:

It’s tough to think that a squirrel might tilt the presidential election, but it’s 2024, so here we are. 

It all started last week, when an Instagram-famous rodent named Peanut was taken from a house near Elmira, New York, along with a raccoon named Fred. Peanut had lived with Mark Longo and his wife, Daniela, for the past seven years; Fred had lived there for about five months. Rescuing Peanut from near-death and bonding with him had inspired the couple to start a nonprofit animal sanctuary — P’Nut Freedom Farm — and Fred had been left at their doorstep. 

But then, on Oct. 30, the New York Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) raided their home, and after a five-hour search, the two animals were confiscated. According to a statement given to WENY, a local TV station, by the DEC and the county health department, Peanut had bitten one of the investigators, and both animals had to be euthanized in order to test for rabies. 

In a more reasonable timeline, the animals’ caretakers and fans would mourn them, and perhaps it would spark internet discourse on the ethics of keeping wild animals indoors, effectively as pets. (All the other animals in their care live outside.) But like a 2024 Murphy’s law, if something ends up trending, it must become political. 

So when Longo posted about his anger with the DEC for using tax dollars to raid his nonprofit sanctuary, it got picked up by local Republican politicians blaming Gov. Kathy Hochul. Then Elon Musk, the world richest’s man, got involved, meming the squirrel to oblivion while his minions began cranking out AI sludge of former President Donald Trump and Peanut standing triumphantly, together. Trump’s campaign posted on TikTok: “Vote Trump for Peanut.” His account wrote that Peanut was “needlessly murdered by Democrat bureaucrats in New York,” adding: “We will avenge you on Tuesday at the ballot box.” 

By Sunday, the squirrel was on the cover of the New York Post. 

[curatorsday]

Monday, March 4, 2024

Today, I found this great photo of "A Few Who Saw Solar Big Show" in the January 30, 1925 issue of the Elmira Star-Gazette. I'm working on an exhibit celebrating the 1925 total solar eclipse. I said I'd have it open to the public on Friday.

[thomasgroetz]

frontviews presents at HAUNT HAUNT Hosts Patrick Alt, Julius von Bismarck, Monika Brandmeier, Frederic Griesbaum, Thomas Grötz, Victoria Heifetz, Elmira Iravanizad, Heiko Karn, Ulrich Kochinke, Tiziana Krüger, Flo Maak, Christian Macketanz, Edie Monetti, Anzhelika Palyvoda, Erika Richter, Christian Schiebe, Isabell Schulte, Filippos Tatakis, Thea Timm, Sandra Vásquez de la Horra, Anna Vonnemann, Johannes Wald, Jan Wawrzyniak, Julia Ziegler curated by the collective of frontviews Vernissage Sat 23 Nov 6 – 9 pm Finissage Sat 11 Jan 6 – 9 pm Duration 27 Nov 2024  –  11 Jan 2025 Opening Hours Wed – Sat 2 – 6 pm

[goalhofer]

2024-25 Boston Bruins roster

Wingers

#11 Trent Frederic (St. Louis, Missouri)

#45 Cole Koepke (Hermantown, Minnesota)*

#55 Justin Brazeau (Temiskaming Shores, Ontario)**

#63 Brad Marchand (Halifax Municipality, Nova Scotia) C

#88 David Pastrňák (Havířov, Czech Republic) A

Centers

#13 Charlie Coyle (Weymouth, Massachusetts)

#18 Pavel Zacha (Brno, Czech Republic)

#19 Johnny Beecher (Elmira, New York)

#28 Elias Lindholm (Boden Stad, Sweden)*

#39 Morgan Geekie (Yellowhead Municipality, Manitoba)

#47 Mark Kastelic (Phoenix, Arizona)*

#90 Tyler Johnson (Liberty Lake, Washington)*

Defensemen

#6 Mason Lohrei (Middleton, Wisconsin)

#25 Brandon Carlo (Colorado Springs, Colorado)

#27 Hampus Lindholm (Helsingborg Stad, Sweden)

#29 Parker Wotherspoon (Surrey, British Columbia)

#52 Andrew Peeke (Parkland, Florida)

#73 Charlie McAvoy; Jr. (Long Beach, New York) A

#91 Nikita Zadorov (Moscow, Russia)*

Goalies

#1 Jeremy Swayman (Anchorage, Alaska)

#70 Joonas Korpisalo (Pori, Finland)*

[theonlyfanslife]

The murky secret world of OnlyFans 'chatters'

By ELMIRA TANATAROVA Published: 07:51 EST, 10 November 2024 | Updated: 08:08 EST, 10 November 2024 The elusive world of OnlyFans is filled with success stories as creators boast about the millions they’ve made after quitting their day job and committing to full-time content. But – peel the layers back – and you might see that beyond a sultry photoshoot of what a subscriber considers to be a…

[akaanuar]

Rival Consoles - Gaivotas (Official Music Video) from Erased Tapes on Vimeo.

A film by Vincent Duluc Teenager — Arnoo Abytalypov Teenagers — Jorobek Abytalypov, Yryskeldi Abytalypov and Baeil Baktybekov

Shaman — Burul Usenbaeva Assistant — Baktygul Kaamytova

Production Company — Motion Palace Producer — Louis Arnoux Executive Producers — Neels Castillon, Ariane Cornic & Robert Raths Production Assistant — Raphael Julier

Director of Photography — Adrien Lallau First Camera assistant — Damien Rubinsztajn Camera & Lenses — RVZ

Service production Company — CityLab Local producer — Emirlan Zhakshybaev

Production designer — Nurbek Musaev

Editor — Vincent Duluc-David Colorist — Eudes Quittelier

With the endless help of — Nazira Abylova, Yrysaly Turganbaev, Nuraly Turganbaev, Adyl Jumabekov, Kamil, Elmira Omurzakova, Nargiz Tursunbaeva, Nasiba Alymzhanova, Themis Alzhanova, Rabia Alymzhanova, Firdaus Alzhanov, Khadicha Ismailova, Zuu, Mirlan and Akilbek

Special thanks — Sebastien Rouquet, Pieter Jan Claessens, Pierre Odin, Clarrence Larrivoire, Greg Cohen, Kenza Dhenry-Pages, RVZ and Samuel Renollet

℗© 2024 Erased Tapes Records Ltd.

[evoldir]

Fwd: Graduate position: UVienna.AncientDNA

Begin forwarded message: > From: evoldir@evol.biology.mcmaster.ca > Subject: Graduate position: UVienna.AncientDNA > Date: 21 September 2024 at 06:29:16 BST > To: rdmpage@gmail.com > > > > PhD Position in Ancient DNA Population Genomics, University of Vienna, > Austria (f/m/d)THE POSITION:4-Years PhD Position in Paleogenomics: > Genomic Perspectives on Population Dynamics in Central Europe During > the Late Bronze and Iron AgesThe University of Vienna is offering an > exciting PhD position in the research group of Dr. Elmira Mohandesan, > focusing on paleogenomics and the population dynamics of Late Bronze Age > and Early Iron Age communities in the Carpathian Basin. This project > is a part of an interdisciplinary research initiative that seeks to > uncover the biological, cultural, and environmental transformations > that occurred during this critical period in European prehistory.YOUR > TASKS:This project adopts a holistic approach, combining paleogenomics, > isotope (Strontium, Carbon, and Nitrogen isotopes), carbon-14 dating, > morphological and pathological analyses. The PhD candidate will focus on > the genomics aspect of the project, particularly analysing ancient human > and horse DNA samples to address key questions about population diversity, > mobility, and cultural practices in Eastern and Central Europe during > the Late Bronze Age to Middle Iron Age. The main tasks are outlined below: > > -       Ancient DNA wet-lab experiments (DNA extraction, Illumina >        library preparation, Quality Control, capture enrichment, etc.). > -       Population genetic analysis (phylogeny, PCA, Admixture, etc). > > -       Documentation of data generation, and analysis procedure. > -       Administration, and organisation of the generated data according >        to the Research Data Management (RDM) policy at the University >        of Vienna (https://ift.tt/AiaStPv). > -       Active participation in lab meetings, seminars and journal >        clubs.YOUR PROFILE- Background in evolutionary genetics, >        molecular biology, population genetics, and/or bioinformatics. > -       Bioinformatics skills (e.g., Unix, R, Python, Perl) and >        expertise in NGS genome data analysis are required. > -       Basic wet-lab skills in ancient DNA field are required. > -       Proficiency in written and spoken English is required. > -       Ability to work independently, and efficiently within a multi- >        disciplinary research environment. > -       Proactive and self-motivated personality.WE OFFER:- A 4-years >        funded PhD position remunerated according to the FWF personnel >        costs (gross salary 2.464,80 Euros per month, 14 salaries per >        year based on the Austrian pay roll system). > -       A diverse and supportive team in an inspiring, and international >        setting at the Department of Evolutionary Anthropology >        (https://ift.tt/3h9o1QO). > -       In-person scientific seminars by the invited renowned scientists >        around the world organised through the HEAS platform >        (https://www.heas.at/). > -       Access to cutting-edge scientific infrastructure and >        computational resources through CUBE platform >        (https://ift.tt/2vtKGMa). > > -       Living in Austria’s capital city Vienna, located in the heart > of Europe and ranks as one of the most attractive cities worldwide.HOW > TO APPLY:Please send your application (CV, motivation letter), and > names/contact information of two potential referees to Dr. Elmira > Mohandesan (E-mail: elmira.mohandesan@univie.ac.at) by November > 1st. Preferred starting date: January 2025. > > > > Elmira Mohandesan

[hannahhook7744]

I Don’t Know Why All The Trees Change In The Fall, But I Know You’re Not Scared Of Anything At All;

Cover:

Summary: Isabela’s son is a mama’s boy. Trigger Warnings: Confusion, fear, jealousy, thoughts of violence, swearing, blasphemy, anger issues, and repeated use of the word ‘stupid’. Encantober 2024: Leaves. The way Isabela is thinking of Pedro is based off this wonderful fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37560733/chapters/93751921

------------------------------------------------------------

Arlo Emo Marquez Madrigal, son of Isabela Rojas Madrigal and Bubo Marquez, at five years old didn't yet know why all the trees changed in the fall (or why the leaves changed whenever his mother wanted them to). 

Or whether Snow White's house was near or far away. 

But one thing he did know without a doubt was that his mamá wasn't scared of anything at all. He knew this because he'd seen it first hand, on multiple occasions.

He'd seen her chase off the mean old dead fish lady with a cactus after she insulted his mamá’s Tío Bruno. 

He'd seen her chase off his papá’s mean old papá and hermanos with an Épée. 

He's seen her chase the donkey farmer with a chancla after he tried to ask Tía Luisa to help him catch the donkeys again on Christmas morning. 

Arlo had even seen her pick up spiders with her bare hands and had seen her wrestle one of her potato people out of Parce’s mouth  and send the jaguar to the corner. 

So, yeah. Arlo or Mi pequeña flor, as his mamá liked to call him, knew that his mamá wasn't scared of anything at all and he'd even wager all of his allowance with Primo Camilo on it if he hadn't been banned from gambling by his padres. 

Which was exactly why when, during his gift ceremony, his hair went from soft and dry to liquid-y and move-y he ran in terror straight for his madre without even glancing at his door or his siblings’ new doors because he knew she'd protect him from whatever his gift had done to him and make Casita fix it.

And he knew she would because he had the bestest mommy in the Encanto. “¡MAMI! ¡MAMI! ¡MAMI! ¡MAMI!” 

------------------------------------------------------------

To Arlo’s disappointment, mamá couldn't fix his hair. 

His hair, that had gone from wavy and curly and pitch black (like both his parents) to teal water with live, moving goldfish in it—because apparently his gift could affect his appearance far more than just making eyes go from hazel to green like it had with Tío abuelo Bruno. 

Arlo hated it. 

He hated his stupid new hair and wanted his cool old hair that made him look like his parents’ clone back. He hated his stupid Hy-dro-kin-esis or his water bending as Tío abuelo Bruno and Primo Cy called it. He hated that his head was always wet and that he could feel the fish moving, and that his papá and mamá couldn't play with his hair anymore. He hated that he couldn't cuddle with his parents or his siblings and cousins without his hair dripping everywhere. 

Arlo hated his stupid water-filled room that drip, drip, dripped non-stop no matter the time of day. He hated how the water rose when he was upset and how people he didn't know in town kept trying to touch his hair. 

He hated everything about his gift and he hated the miracle and he hated Casita and he hated his Tía Mirabel for handing him her magical door knob during the ceremony.  But most of all he hated his siblings and cousins for getting gifts they loved when he was stuck with one he hated that kept giving him ear infections that Abuela Julieta’s food couldn't heal. 

Why did his hermano Miguel Jr (or Smiley or MJ as he had been nicknamed) get to make shields out of thin air? Why did Miguel Jr get to make a shield bubble that he could run into walls with, without getting a boo-boo when Arlo was stuck with water bending?

Why did his hermana Zoey get to talk to and fix machines that he could befriend while Arlo was stuck with water bending?

Why did Princesa get to make different gasses?

Why did Elmira get to play with music and make things happen?

Why did Claudine get to turn invisible and why did Rachel get to make things come to life by sewing?

------------------------------------------------------------

Why did Cesare get telepathy and Cornel get to see the dead and Cy get to see the future like Tío abuelo Bruno did?

And why did Rick get to tell when people were lying?

Why was Arlo the only one with a gift he hated?

Why did Casita and the miracle hate him?

He didn't want this gift. He wanted something cool, like being the next miracle holder or his mamá’s gift! Preferably something like his mamá’s gift. Not a dumb ol’ gift that ruined his hair and ruined his room and ruined his cuddles!

Arlo couldn't even draw the leaves on his mamá’s vines and plants anymore without the water from his hair dripping onto his drawing and dampening the paper!

It wasn't fair!

He wasn't even allowed to swim anymore either ‘cause the adults and bigger kids were scared that they wouldn't be able to see him ‘cause of his hair if he drowned. He loved swimming and now he couldn't. 

He couldn't play outside while it was cold either or sleep in someone else's bed with them without getting everything all wet because of his hair anymore either! It wasn't fair. 

It wasn't. 

And he didn't know why his mamá couldn't fix it— didn’t Casita know that his mamá was the bestest mamá and that she had to listen to her? Didn't the miracle know that?

Arlo hated them for not listening to his mamá and he hated that his mean old gift made his mamá sad. He even tried to hide how much he didn't like his power after he saw how much it upset her but the fish haired boy wasn't sure if he was successful because she kept trying to tell him that he'd grow to love his gift to make him feel better.

That abuelo had picked it out just for him. 

That water was the reason her leaves and vines and leaves and flowers and leaves could live. That his water could save her plants in a drought. Whatever a drought was. 

But it didn't make him feel better—because he knew that his mamá was just lying for his benefit; something that only served to make him despise his gift more because it had turned his honest madre into a liar —which he knew was a bad thing because his bisabuela Alma said that lying was rude and not good and not nice, and that they shouldn't lie. 

And if his madre was a liar because of his gift, then his madre was bad and he didn't want his mamá or his papá to be bad. 

But they were. All because of his useless, awful gift.

------------------------------------------------------------

“See how green and lively the water makes the leaves, hijo? Isn't it nice?” Isabela asked, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice as she kneeled in front of her five year old with a big fake, painfully forced smile on her face. 

Hoping that her son wouldn't notice that she was trying to fake it till she made it. It, in this case, being love for her son’s gift. 

Since the mad scientist of a florist, quite frankly, despised her poor little son—who was so much like her that it hurt—’s gift. Maybe the artist would have liked the gift given to her little mini-me if Arlo himself had liked it but she would never know because her Arlo didn't like his gift and didn't want it.

El infierno, her little flower had even gone as far as begging for Casita to take it and his room back. 

It killed her and Bubo to see their son in such pain, especially since they had done everything they could think of to ease the boy's misery with absolutely no results other than Arlo trying to hide how much he was rejecting his gift from them. Which neither of them wanted in the slightest. 

Dios, the first thing Isabela was gonna do when she died was strangle her abuelo for giving her poor flower such a dreadful gift—if he was even responsible for this whole ordeal, that was. Not that the artist doubted that her grandfather was responsible for the miracle and their gifts; oh, no she was fairly confident that that was the case ever since Mirabel had suggested it. Mirabel was hardly ever wrong these days and Abuela had even confirmed that it did sound like something her Pedro would do. 

El absoluto imbécil.

And Cornel did say that Pedro had even admitted to being responsible for choosing the gifts each of them had gotten. 

Oh how she couldn't wait to ring his neck for the gifts he'd given her triplets and for the mischievous nature Camilo had undoubtedly inherited from him. El bastardo.

Dios, Isabela hadn't been this mad since she found out while giving birth that she was having triplets. 

Arlo scowled at the potted plant—something he'd never have done before his disaster of a gift ceremony—scrunching up his nose and hugging what was now his stuffed flower. Glaring at the plant as if it had done something to personally offend him as a fish attempted to swim out of his hair. “ No. ”

Oh, juro por Dios, she was gonna murder her abuelo for a second time when she next saw him.

[murfreesboronews]

Alvin May Obituary

Alvin “Butch” May, age 78, of Murfreesboro, TN passed away Saturday, August 31, 2024. He was born in Elmira, NY to the late Clifford and Mary Mason May. Butch was a 1965 graduate of SRU High School in East Smithfield, PA where he played on the basketball team. After graduation, he proudly served his country in the United States Marine Corp during the Vietnam War as a forward observer. Butch lived…

[curatorsday]

Friday, July 26, 2024

Today, while working on a presentation about embroidery in our collection, I came across this wonderful photo of young women. Sure, it's nice to see them holding all sorts of arts and sciency props to show the wide-ranging interests of the Elmira College Class of 1889, but I'm most interested in the student with the human skull on her lap. Medicine? Theater? Philosophy? Culinary arts?