#this turned out way creepier than I meant it to

[undiscovered-horizon]

Imagine accidentally summoning Morpheus [Part 2]

The cardboard box had your name written on it in sharpie and judging by the amount of dust collected on the lid, it must have been waiting for you for at least a decade. According to your grandmother, everything inside was a remnant of your early childhood when she would take care of you when your parents couldn't. All of it was waiting for the day you become an adult and, to your grandmother's nostalgic dissatisfaction, that day had come a little faster than she wished.

Upon opening the box and coughing up your lungs with the old dust, you heard yourself gasp at the very first thing you lay your eyes on: a music box.

"Please, tell me you still work," you whispered to yourself as you hurriedly took it out.

The enamel was chipped away in many places but not enough to make the trinket in any way ugly. Its black paint and golden decorations took you back to all the sleepless nights when your grandmother would wind the music box up and let it play your insomnia away. "You'll be asleep before the song ends," she used to assure you. And she never once was wrong.

Carefully, you lifted the porcelain-covered lid. Inside, the figurine of a black raven was still taking flight, even after all those years when it was hidden away in a cardboard box somewhere between Christmas decorations and VHS tapes no one watched anymore. The inside of the music box was just as dark as the outside except for the tiny, white dots that were meant to resemble stars as though the black bird was always flying away into the night sky.

You turned the winding key countless times or so it seemed. When you felt that it wouldn't turn anymore, you excitedly retracted your hand, expecting the sweet melody of childhood to resound in your ears once more.

The raven figurine turned slowly as the equally slow melody began playing. Curiously, you never did learn what song it was as you have never heard it anywhere else. A grimace appeared on your face as you listened to the high-pitched, bright sounds: the melody in minor key sounded a lot darker, creepier, than you remembered it. Maybe the fang of time had already gnawed on the music box? Perhaps it was simply out of tune and you had to find someone capable of fixing it.

"Why have you summoned me?"

The low voice behind you made you fall over. Scurrying away in fear, you turned around only to see a tall, thin man in a long coat. His hair was dishevelled and its dark, raven-like shade made his pasty skin appear only lighter. Suddenly, you noticed the air in your bedroom smelling somewhat sweet and stale like fruit in an antique bookshop. His blue eyes remained strangely expressionless as he stared at you.

Even if you did know what to say, you were physically incapable of doing so. Who was he? How did he get in? And what on Earth did he mean by 'summon'? Your heart was thundering in your chest and you quickly began feeling trouble catching your breath. Fearful blankness wove a nest in your thoughts. A cold sweat run down your back.

"I know your face," he spoke again as he slowly walked towards you, "although long years had gone by since I last saw you."

Your back hit the wall - there was nowhere else to run from the stranger. He, to your horror, only continued his stroll in your direction. Panting, you looked around if there was anything you could use to defend yourself from the trespasser but a cardboard lid wasn't a weapon in any way or meaning. As it befits prey, you simply waited.

But his hand was never once raised against you. When the stranger stood right in front of you, he silently extended reached his arm to you to help you get up. With great hesitation, you took it.

"I must confess I did harbour some hope that you might remember me," he said once you had gotten up. "Alas, we are strangers once more."

You didn't believe him, not for a second. Had you ever met such an odd men, equally intimidating as he was gentle, you'd surely remember him or at least recognize his features as familiar. But you did not.

In a trembling voice, you managed to stutter out a response: "I have no idea who you are... sir."

For a moment, he appeared somewhat upset, vacantly looking towards the floor. "I know," he quietly answered in a raspy voice.

[denaliwrites]

When the Crypt Doors Creak

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Summary: The Doctor takes you to the most popular haunted house attraction on Earth after finding out your favorite holiday is Halloween. Turns out he might have ulterior motives for the trip, though.

Soundtrack: Grim Grinning Ghosts by Creature Feature

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Jumpscares, Canon-Typical Peril.

A skeleton dropped from the ceiling, its cheap plastic teeth chittering mockingly when you let out a bleat of terror. The Doctor shot you an amused look, apparently unfazed.

"Does nothing frighten you?" you asked, stepping around the skeleton with a miffed whine.

"Oh, plenty frightens me," he sighed, sidestepping a haphazardly placed dummy meant to look like a bloody corpse.

"Like what?" You startled at the sound of a mournful howl echoing around you. Eyes shot to the Doctor for comfort, but instead found him giving you a shit-eating grin.

"Nothing that can be found in a haunted house on Earth in the year 2375," he assured you.

The two of you rounded a corner. Immediately you yelped, confronted by a giant robot with round, hollow black eyes. Somehow, that seemed even creepier than glowing electric eyes.

The Doctor stopped beside you, staring up at the robot with a perplexed expression. "I stand corrected," he said after a moment. "So that's what the TARDIS scanners were picking up."

"What, this thing frightens you?" you asked in disbelief, though internally you admitted that it frightened you too... You were unsure why. You were so busy thinking about it that you missed that he hadn't actually brought you here for a fun outing.

The Doctor pulled out his sonic and gave the robot a quick scan. "Well, at least it's dormant," he said to himself as he read the scan. "But this is wrong. You shouldn't be here..."

"What is it?" you asked, blinking up at the thing.

"Nothing you need to worry about right this second," he tried to reassure you, his hands guiding you by the waist away from the robot.

You continued through the haunted house, but you could tell from that moment that the Doctor's mind was elsewhere. You tried to catch his attention a couple times, but he was fully engrossed in his thoughts. And, occasionally, his sonic scans.

Around another bend, you came across a different robot. This one was much cuter upon first glance, but something about it drove you to stand far away. The Doctor, however, approached without hesitation and did another scan.

"This is all wrong," he sighed, turning to look around the room. It was dark, and at least you were having trouble making anything out other than the dummy ahead of you. "Where are they getting these things?"

You edged the room, trying to keep as far from the thing as you could. "Doctor, I want to leave," you moaned, hands desperately searching the dark wall behind you for an exit.

He didn't seem to hear you, continuing to scan and talk to himself. The last thing you saw before accidentally falling through an exit door was the doctor scratching the back of his head, and the last thing you heard was him saying, "You shouldn't be here."

You weren't sure how long you fell, or when you landed. You'd gone unconscious at some point. All you knew was just that you woke up in some sort of cell.

"Hello?" you called out, rattling the bars in various locations in the hope that they might give. You were disappointed to find that they were pretty solidly in place.

"Hello?" you tried again.

This time, you were answered by footsteps that echoed across the walls as they got closer. "Ah, you're awake," a displaced voice said, and you got the distinct impression that whoever had spoken was not a particularly nice individual.

Though, maybe the whole "being locked in a cell" thing should've given that away.

"I was wondering when the hypnosis would wear off." With that, the source of the voice stepped into view. You were surprised to see that it was just an ordinary guy -- well, a rich guy, going by the fancy suit he wore and the way he was immaculately groomed, but. Otherwise, perfectly ordinary.

"Hypnosis?" you asked, trying to think back to when that could've possibly happened.

"Yeah. Nothing particularly strong or damaging. Needed to get you from Point A to Point B and you were... well. Uncooperative."

It was then you noticed a fresh cut on his lip. Nice.

"Well, I'd say sorry," you started, your voice mocking, "but I'm pretty sure kidnapping is a little higher on the list than punching the guy trying to kidnap you, as far as grievances go."

"Mm," was all he offered by way of response, starting to pace.

"What am I doing here, anyway?"

"Oh, yes, let me just tell you my whole grand plan so that you can formulate some clever way to stop it."

Ouch. Okay. He had you there.

"Don't know what kind of idiots you've been dealing with, but I'm not falling for that bullshit."

"Oh, I wouldn't call it bullshit," the Doctor's voice came suddenly from somewhere to your left. You turned, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Curious, this one," he continued, referring to you. "Asks all sorts of great questions."

"You call that a great question?"

"Well, give it a minute. The hypnosis is probably still wearing off."

"Uh, Doctor, where are you?" you asked, as if you hadn't just been insulted by one man and complimented by another.

"See, that's a good question. Where am I?"

"You're the one that's supposed to answer that, Doctor," you sighed, eyes still scanning around trying to find him.

"See, the thing is," the Doctor started, and you heard the sound of a switch flipping. "That Cyberman, and that Dalek. They're just dormant. Not dead."

You had no idea where this was going, but by the look on the face of your captor, you knew that he knew exactly where the Doctor was and what he was doing.

"And, well. All dormant things wake up eventually, don't they? Hmm, I wonder what this button does."

The sound of an alarm filled the room, and a robotic voice began instructing patrons to evacuate the building.

"Well, at least you had the decency to give them a chance to get out. Couldn't afford the lawsuits?" the Doctor asked, something in his voice rather cruel.

You looked to your captor, almost laughing at the panic on his face.

"Now, you managed to capture a Dalek and a Cyberman and who knows what else is in the parts of that maze we didn't see. What do you think they'll do, now that I've turned off the machine keeping them under? I wonder..."

The man made to leave, but the Doctor stopped him with a tut. "Let my friend go, Jeremy."

Jeremy (apparently) hesitated, then threw the cell key to you and ran for the exit.

"Oh, good enough, I suppose," the Doctor sighed.

You let yourself out of the cell and turned towards the exit "Jeremy" had run through.

"Ah-ah," the Doctor chided gently. "Not that way."

"Why not?" you asked the air around you, looking around for any other way out. There was none.

"That's where all the monsters are gonna be."

Oh, right.

"Then where am I supposed to go?"

You heard him make that weird sound that came from the back of his throat. "Well. The TARDIS, obviously."

"The TARDIS isn't here, Doctor."

"Sure she is. Look in the loo."

You blinked stupidly for a moment, then turned and, indeed, found a restroom sign. Stepping through the door, you were met with the beautiful deep blue wood of the Doctor's ship.

"Have you been in here the whole time?" you asked the open air.

"Come in and find out, won't you?"

You stepped inside to see the Doctor smiling at you from the console. You ran to him and threw your arms around him. He hugged you back, holding on tight as he buried his face in your hair.

"I'm glad you're okay," he murmured, placing a kiss to your temple.

You pulled away from him, softly clearing your throat. "Shouldn't we help Jeremy? Or, at least, get rid of all those 'monsters.'"

"There's no helping Jeremy now," the Doctor sighed. "And all those monsters will self-destruct or go live out the rest of their lives in solitude once they realize they're all alone."

"That's... sad. Shouldn't we take them back to where they belong?"

The Doctor looked contemplative and sad for a moment. "No."

You wanted to press him on that, but something told you not to. Something about the haunted expression on his face.

"... Can we go to a normal haunted house?" you asked instead. "One in my time."

"You wanna do that again?" he asked with a stunned laugh. "You were terrified the whole time!"

"Doctor, that's the point!"

[aoki553]

'bpd makoto teruhashi??'- a character analysis/yapping session because no one understands the siblings like i do

Time to turn the capslock on for this one! The writing might be incoherent, but I want to focus on getting my thoughts out with this one, so be aware. Let me start this post by clarifying - I am not a psychologist. This is for fun, done used resources I've found online. This is about an anime character, not about a real person's struggles.

Trigger warning for obvious sibling marriage romanticization mention sighhh like we aren't talking about it constantly when it comes to him apparently.

We all know the way Makoto has been protrayed in the series - a comically overexaggerated siscon. His portrayal makes many people uncomfortable due to his perverted obsessive behavior.

Except, I'm going to throw it all out the window cuz in this post I meant to take a look at his behavior from a fan's perspective without any biases like 'eww yucky siscon make me uncomfy'. NONE of that here.

I'll start by addressing the elephant in the room and the main reason i'm making this post: Makoto's obsession. Both of the Teruhashi siblings have obvious superiority complexes, however, Makoto is overshadowed by his little sister's charm, whom he idealizes and has an unhealthy attachment to. He's aware of his own charm and beauty, but only takes it to account to point out how he's the only one worthy of Kokomi's love and attention.

Kokomi has clearly been his whole world ever since she was born. A life-long fascination and attachment that went unnoticed. His perfect little sister is able to change his mood drastically whenever she's getting attention from anyone other than him or is even slightly dissatisfied with him.

He lacks a sense of self - only Kokomi matters for him. He's able to ditch his responsibilities in an instant, only to be with her. He's depicted as a cherub to Kokomi's goddess appearance in the mobile game and as a chauffeur in the Duet Shite KudaPsi anime end credits. Always below her, as her servant.

He becomes severely distressed and panics over even something so simple as a her getting a cold. (Just like everyone else at her school, but he's there for her.)

At all times he needs to make sure she isn't surrounded by men that are 'unworthy' of her, even to the point of stalking her to get some piece of mind. He craves her approval and cares for her like no one else in the entirety of the manga. (Example: Taking her to movie theatres and watch every movie he has ever starred in to show her.) These are signs of Kokomi being Makoto's 'favorite person'.

Awesome, but does it explain Makoto seeing her not as his sister, but as a future wife? Is it just him making things way creepier in his mind than they need? Yes, actually.

Makoto's overprotective and obsessive behavior is comically exaggerated, duh, but if we think about it for a second... Kokomi is a person he's been there for her whole life, he provides and protects her from unwanted attention. He dedicated his whole life to her and knowing there is an unavoidable future of his whole world collapsing because someone will take his place. Not as a siblings, but as a lover - something more important than family. How can he avoid this? By being the one to marry her, of course. No one but him is worthy of her anyway, right? Why should she need anyone else? No matter how messed up that sounds, it's his way of thinking.

Now let's go over some of the diagnostic criteria for BPD. I'll be using this site and infographic as my resource, just to give a few simple (but appropiate in my opinion) examples.

Fear of abandonment, rejection - while it's not explicitly stated, I believe his 'marriage' thing is just that. Not wanting to be abandonned and forgotten by the only person he loves and cares about. I don't believe he has any perverted motive behind it. Just fear and wanting her only for himself.

Idealization and devaluation - both extremes show up in his behavior. Most notably towards Kokomi or Kusuo. He's hostile and outright rude to Kusuo, but the moment Kokomi shows up he becomes all sunshine and rainbows. Another example of it is his indifference towards Kokomi's friends, compared to the excessive attention he gives to his sister. My theory is that Makoto doesn't have relationships due to a predisposition to making his relations with other people unstable, or never even bothering to try in the first place. (Like he is towards Ruchi, for example.)

Impulsivity and inappropiate anger - he rushes to anger the moment his love is threatened. A simple thought of Kokomi getting romantic advances enrages him. Even if it could cost him his career or his public image - something Kokomi cares about the most for herself, the opposite to her brother.

Emotional instability - we've only been shown his mood swings like the one below. If we got to see more of his personal life, this one would be much clearer, but it's something a siscon pun character doesn't get to have in a comedy manga, so I'll leave it at that.

Paranoia - Let the image below speak for itself... His delusions can be interpreted as a symptom on its own, too.

But what could've caused this? Since we never see what the Teruhashi siblings' parents are like, it's easy to assume Makoto has a role of her caretaker or a provider, due to only these two being ever shown living in the wealthy Teruhashi residency. The only time we ever see their parents being acknowledged is when Saiko spread a fake rumor of Mugami Tooru having an affair. Note: We never actually see them, we don't know if they're even there.

My personal theory is simple - Kokomi's charm and absent parental figures must've affected Makoto's development and made him emotionally dependent solely on Kokomi's well being. I'm taking his idol career into an account as well, since he must've been scouted into show business in his teens, or earlier. (He was already famous by 17.)

Conclusion: I think Makoto is an interesting example of a person with BPD in media, but I'm often disappointed how little we talk about it. Or maybe I'm just too obsessed with him to see him only as what he is on the surface. :3

PHEW. So after like 4 hours of trying to put my words into one big post I think that's all I had to say for now about this topic~! I have a lot of love for this boy and I really needed to get my thoughts out about this theory of mine. Sorry for unnecessary rambling and incoherence at times. Thanks for reading!

[mk-wizard]

I deleted my last post about what I was told about the Dead by Daylight Unknown feminine skin controversy because it turns out that everyone has someone to say. It's become a situation where it's all "he said, she said" and I don't know who to believe, so I would like to walk away from the situation and withdraw comments.

However, the one opinion I stand by is that it is clear that the Unknown in girly clothes was mean to be joke, but I still don't think it's funny as it does reinforce the worst stereotype of transgender people. Plus, a lot of people are using the Unknown in the girly skin as a meme to mock transgender people. That tells me the devs didn't think the joke through or the consequences it would bring.

THIS is not funny. THIS is tasteless and I clearly see why this hurts the feelings of transgender people.

EDIT: I admit that initially, I didn't see a transgender person when I first saw the Unknown in this skin. I just saw a silly skin and moved on. However, it became more serious when people weaponized it socially to insult transgender people. I get what the devs were trying to do which is have the monster mimic its victims poorly, but the way they did it wasn't scary enough in my own opinion and it would have worked better if it was made to look creepier. I don't victimize or play hero. I don't speak for people. I speak on my own feelings and I'm just saying that I don't like leaving fodder in the hands of unkind people. This skin was initially harmless and was meant to be, but the results wound up doing more bad than good.

Now, if removing the skin altogether is not the solution, fine, but I think something needs to be done so that the trolling and meme-ing stops. Like I said, I don't see a transgender person in the Unknown ever. What I did see is the Unknown in a skin I can't take seriously. It became uncomfortable to look at when unkind jokes crossed the line.

[humbledragon669]

S1E1 – In The Beginning Write Up P2

– Eleven Years Ago

Once the credits have finished rolling, the audience are catapulted in to a close-to-present-day time space.  Eleven years prior to “present day” to be exact – the helpful on-screen signpost tells us we are seeing events “eleven years ago”. I rather like it when TV shows and movies are so reluctant to set a specific time period as a backdrop – it helps future audiences feel like the content is still relevant if and when they discover it. This neutrality is maintained in a number of ways throughout both series of GO and despite the fact that we will see scenes that have incredibly specific dates that they take place in, all the “present day” material has a subtle avoidance of date specification. Whether considering Crowley’s timeless outfit against Aziraphale’s decidedly dated ensemble, Crowley’s use of a vintage car, the setting of an antiquarian book shop contrasted with a modern-day coffee shop complete with almond milk lattes, or the repeated used of the couple’s favourite place to eat (opened in 1906 and largely unchanged since then), an audience would be hard-pressed to say exactly when the show is set, other than it feels modern-day. The closest we come to being able to specify a year is in knowing how long Crowley has owned the Bentley (ninety years, from new) and the year it was made (1927, according to the book), but even those two pieces of information feel rather hazy.

If snippets of writing are a constant source of Easter eggs in this series, the music is the parallel supplier of subtextual plot enforcement. I do not believe it is a coincidence that the Bentley’s choice of music on the approach to the graveyard gives us an early indication that Crowley is about to get more than he bargained for out of the meeting – Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody, a rock ballad about a condemned man awaiting his fate - and which line more appropriate than what is playing exactly as he pulls up and turns off the engine:

Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me

Side note: this is a graveyard attached to a church, which means the land would likely be consecrated, meaning the three demons should not be able to walk on its grounds, let alone emerge from it as Hastur and Ligur do. I think this is likely an oversight; after all, where is creepier for three dark figures to lurk than a graveyard at night?

What we see of Crowley in this first scene is that he has a thinly veiled nonchalance towards his employer that only seems to go amiss by his colleagues because none of them appear to be able to appreciate the subtle nuances of human characteristics that he delivers so well, even if they do think he’s “gone native”. He shrugs off the “Hail Satan” greeting expected of him and is clearly bored by such minor trivial “deeds” as tempting a priest, appearing to revel more in the pure mischief and ingenuity of his achievements rather than the actual results that Hell would be interested in (almost like he’d done something clever and needed to tell someone about it before he popped…) – just look at his smug little face:

Oh, and he clearly wants no part in the delivery of the Antichrist.

Like it or not (most definitely NOT), Crowley has no choice but to take the Antichrist. He receives his instructions from a delightfully camp sounding but unnamed character through his stereo which, according to the script, belongs to none other than Satan himself (and, according to the book, should sound exactly like Freddie Mercury). If this is indeed meant to be Satan, I feel it’s a shame we aren’t explicitly told this – the knowledge that Satan himself has issued the instructions for the delivery of his only son would really hammer home the message of how much shit is hitting the fan at this point in time.

The scenes that follow are mostly narrative in nature, but there are still nuggets of information to be had from them.  This is where we are introduced to Aziraphale’s love of food, and the notion that this is most certainly not expected behaviour for an angel.

We learn of Gabriel’s appreciation for the clothes available on Earth (which is not viewed with the same disdain as Aziraphale’s eating fixation). Most importantly we discover that Heaven appears to be completely unaware of the fact that Crowley and Aziraphale are not only aware of each other, but have been meeting on pretty friendly terms for quite some time.

The fast pacing of the baby switching scene at the nunnery is expertly put together – it conveys just enough of a sense of chaos whilst making sure that the audience are keeping up with the plot twists. It is interesting that the playing card used to represent the Antichrist (before it is magically converted into an image of the Beast) is the King of Hearts, which is perhaps a nod to what will become his true nature (all the more noticeable in the book). We can assume that Crowley is known to the nuns (they refer to him as “Master Crowley”) prior to his arrival, but we are not given any information about how this has come to be. Considering that Crowley’s involvement in the delivery of the Antichrist came as something as a surprise to Crowley himself, I find this interesting, though this may simply be a case of his reputation preceding him, as we see in later episodes. Baby B’s unfortunately undecided fate feels terribly dark, even for a series that has, in the first half of its first episode, introduced Satanic nuns and the Antichrist. Interestingly, the book offers a more optimistic outlook for this innocent babe, even if it is for him to grow up to become the village bully nicknamed “Greasy”. I suspect this may have been omitted from the finished script due to time and budget constraints (one less child actor and chaperone to pay…).

Back in the Bentley, we’re treated to what I believe is another subtextual Clue about Crowley’s true feelings – Queen’s “It’s a Hard Life” croons out of the stereo as he tries to call Aziraphale. Great song as this is, I cannot believe that these particular lyrics have not been chosen for a very specific purpose for this exact point in the story:

You win, you lose It's a chance you have to take with love Oh yeah, I fell in love

The song itself is actually the same as the one playing on Crowley’s earlier arrival at the hospital, but the lyrics are, interestingly, from a point in the song after all the instances of the lyrics we hear during the attempted call to Aziraphale, meaning the song must be on repeat during this period of time. Examining the lyrics of the song as a whole, it actually feels like a particularly appropriate song to use against the backdrop for establishing the present-day nature of Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship – it really strikes a chord with me. Is it dusty in here or is my hay fever playing up? (I don’t even get hay fever…)

An undescribed period of time passes (we’re suddenly in broad daylight, so it’s at least one night). The next conversation between the pair reveals quite a bit about the level of familiarity that Crowley has for Aziraphale. He clearly finds his optimism delightful – just look at this smitten kitten face:

And Crowley knows exactly what buttons to press to try to get Aziraphale on side, pointing out that he’s about to lose all his favourite things – classical music, food, and finally (just for full impact) his own book shop. Even when Aziraphale won’t bend to the demon’s temptations, it’s clear that (despite the fact that Armageddon has just been set on its slow and wandering way) Crowley just wants to spend more time with Aziraphale, offering to pay for lunch, which is clearly the best way to get the angel to engage fully. Interestingly, Crowley knows that he owes a lunch but can’t remember when for, whereas Aziraphale knows exactly when, where, and what they had – I would hazard a guess that he would probably be able to recite those facts for every instance of a meal they have ever eaten together.

Side note: I am not remiss of the fact that the year given by Aziraphale here ties up with the scene from episode 3, or that those events also coincide with an “I Was Wrong” dance performance. I have some ideas about those apology dances, which I will be covering in a (much) later post, with (I hope) a couple of fanfic chapters.

And so we are introduced to the Ritz, a place I’m sure everyone knows will come to be important to this pair, with this tableau:

I know there has been a LOT said about this tiny snippet of a scene. I am one of the people who find it pretty interesting that we never see Crowley eat (yes, I know we see him with food in front of him, but we never actually see him put anything in his mouth or chewing). I’m not saying that he doesn’t – the book and several script references make it clear that he does – but I do think he derives much more pleasure from watching Aziraphale eat than from eating himself (see the Lockdown episode for a good indicator of this). And let’s be really honest for a minute – that shot of him watching Aziraphale finish off whatever he’s eating in the Ritz is almost pornographic. Do we really think that the sound at the start of the scene of a champagne cork popping in the background as Crowley is staring at him is a coincidence? I certainly don’t. In my honest opinion, this is as close to the demon being actually aroused as we ever see him.

I also find Aziraphale’s choice of words to conclude their meal at the Ritz interesting:

So, what are you in the mood for now?

There’s something… knowing about this. Like Aziraphale knows exactly what Crowley has been thinking whilst he’s watched him eat. It’s almost flirty but I can’t quite put my finger on it. It does not escape my attention that, if Aziraphale is aware of Crowley’s thought process, he hasn’t exactly been demure whilst he’s eating – his expression as he finishes that final bite is positively post-coital. Not to mention the little teasing smirk and the once over he gives the demon after he’s offered Crowley carte blanche of activity choice. One wonders whether “alcohol” was really what he had in mind here…

Side note: we have no idea of what has happened during this meal. We could assume that the talk has been about the Antichrist and Armageddon but given that’s the topic of conversation when they get back to the book shop, and that Aziraphale put a very clear stop to that discussion when they left St James Park, I find that unlikely. I have my own idea of what took place, which you might already know if you’ve read Dangerous Liaisons. I’m not going to go into it much further here but am hoping to explore it further in another fanfic. Let’s just say I think there might have been some discussion around true feelings and potential plans to act on them at this point.

As we see the couple strolling down the Soho street up to Aziraphale’s shop, we are witness to, I think, two physical touches between them. They’re small – Aziraphale’s hand on Crowley’s leg and then an arm brush – and they could be accidental owing to the momentum of bodies and limbs caused by walking but I’m not so sure, especially not after the subtextual display we’re treated to at the Ritz. If I’m right about the topic of conversation at the Ritz, this would make a lot of sense too. It would also explain why Aziraphale offers the very nice wine he’s been saving for “special occasions” – who considers the dawning of Armageddon a special occasion?!

Let’s talk about the entry into the book shop for a moment. More specifically, Aziraphale’s comments preceding their entry into the book shop and Crowley’s reaction to them.

First off, we have the (futile) reminder that they’re supposed to be “hereditary enemies”. I feel like Aziraphale says this to attempt to remind Crowley of what they’re relationship is supposed to be, and I find Crowley’s reaction to it pretty delightful – we only get a glimpse of his expression before the camera switches back to Aziraphale’s face, but we can see the demon mocking him on the side of the screen. He’s clearly not interested in playing along with their cover story here – he reminds me of a child being told off for something minor and unimportant.

This charming little interaction is concluded with Aziraphale’s assertions that Crowley get behind him, only to invite him to lead the way. I’m sure there are some that would attribute this to comedic writing combined with the further establishment of Aziraphale having impeccable manners. However, I have a filthy mind and adore this couple, so I cannot help but see this as a hint towards the establishment of sexual positions. There we go, it’s out, I said it. I will not unsay it. Sue me. Besides, adding that bit of subtext to the scene makes it smuttier funnier. Not to mention that Crowley seems a bit taken aback by Aziraphale’s first suggestion (“get thee behind me”), but nods his agreement after the second (“after you”) – I interpret this as him being on the same page, at least at this point in time anyway.

As we enter into the book shop, we are shown one of the compass points marked on the mezzanine level. It won’t come to make much sense at this point, not until we’ve seen at least one more of them but it’s my understanding that this is deliberate, and that Aziraphale’s desk sits to the east, which is a nod towards his position of Angel of the Eastern Gate. The music played here is another stroke of genius – it’s highly uncomfortable but purveys perfectly just how wasted this pair are.

NEWS FLASH! Crowley takes his glasses off now that he’s suitably hammered and inside the book shop. We will come to see that when he removes those glasses, it’s a sign that he’s comfortable, feels that he’s in a safe space, and that he can speak freely. This is a really important aspect of Crowley for us to understand and we’ll see it used as a device throughout both series. What’s similarly important to observe is that Aziraphale doesn’t react to it at all – he’s clearly very accustomed to seeing Crowley without his glasses and takes the underlying meaning for granted. For some less subtle display of intimacy between them in this scene, let’s examine that slightly odd and awkward pouting that both of them engage in when discussing fish/marine mammals:

There is a look here, from Crowley, that I cannot decipher. Look? Stare, perhaps. Most certainly not a gaze. It’s paired with a little repositioning of his body. To me it looks like he’s steeling himself to do or say something that he might consider brave.

This is immediately followed by Aziraphale’s announcement that he’s about to sober up, which Crowley follows suit on. I can’t help but wonder what exactly was going through their minds here that makes them believe that being drunk is such a bad thing? We’re led to believe that the heavy nature of the Armageddon conversation is the trigger. I like to think there might be something more sexual at play here…

Side note: I particularly love the idea of being able to be suddenly not drunk at will, and that the alcohol goes nice and neatly back into its bottles when you do so. Imagine how much fun you could have without spending a fortune if you could do that!!

When considering the fate of the Satanic nuns, I find it rather interesting that Hastur has such fun burning the nunnery down to the ground. When we were introduced to his character in the cemetery it had appeared that his motivations were driven by Hell’s goal of acquiring souls for Satan, and that he was interested in little outside of that scope. Here we see him laughing maniacally at the destruction of an institution that has only served his master. It indicates that mischief is something he enjoys, which is something he shares with Crowley despite his disdain at our demon’s personality.

I’m finishing up this part of the write up with a brief look at the interaction between Crowley and Aziraphale around being godfathers to the Antichrist.

There’s no denying that the pair of them are really delighted with this idea – being able to work together to a common goal. Not to mention it’s likely to mean that they will be seeing more of each other, albeit in disguise. Again, if my suspicions about the conversation at the Ritz are correct, their joy here is easy to explain. We finish this scene with a cheeky little exchange between them about being damned and it not being so bad “once you get used to it”. It’s pretty easy to interpret this as a bit of friendly mischief on Crowley’s part. I choose to believe there’s more to it than that – if the two of them really had finally confronted their feelings and decided to act on them over lunch, it’s not unreasonable to suppose that Heaven would indeed consider Aziraphale damned. Crowley’s closing wink says that’s something he’s aware of, that he knows he would be the cause, that he doesn’t care, and that he wants the angel to know he’ll help him work through whatever that means. Even if my suppositions are incorrect, that wink still says all of those things, and ensures that we as an audience have been well established into the comfortable nature of the relationship between them both.

[v-taehyung-kim]

Watch Me Undress

He watches her strip her clothes off, get in the shower, spread her legs and fuck herself in the hopes that he is watching her… she gets off being watched, and he wants nothing more than for her to be a filthy slut with her legs open for him. He’s not real, but oh.. he is. And he’ll make sure she feels it.

genre: exhibitionism, voyeurism, supernatural!au, ghost!jk, dom!jk, voyeur!jk, submissive!reader, exhibitionist!reader

Warnings: filthy. dirty. slutty.

————————————-

“Fucking hell it’s hot out,” I groan, getting the last few of the boxes inside. Did I really need to move in today of all days? I’m boiling in this heat!

I’m finally moving into my new apartment, after the roommate I lived with became a total dickhead and I needed to get out of there. Living alone is the best, a luxury I can luckily afford.

This new place felt… odd from the get go. I was in a hurry to get a new place so I picked whatever I could find. This place screams “a person died here” but hey, nothing a lil’ Ikea can’t fix. Honestly, I don’t care. I’m not scared or believe in any of that supernatural shit. If I don’t see it, I don’t care. Party it up.

That being said, it’s not fun to feel like I just saw someone from the corner of my eyes. But oh well, this is my place now.

Unpacking stuff for my bedroom took the rest of the day, what fun! I made it look all pretty and comfy, now the vibes of this place feel a lot lighter. See? All we needed was a little decor. A little glow up.

———

Dinner meant no more dickhead roommates asking me to wear skimpier clothing to pay lesser rent, and also comfortably dressing down. If I want to be half naked while eating a bowl of wings, so be it!

I do a little happy dance making my way to the kitchen, and I swear I hear a little snicker come from behind me. The hair at the back of my neck stands and I immediately turn around to, of course, find nothing.

What the fuck was that.

I slowly turn back around and walk towards the kitchen. Now I feel really really weird.

I swear it was a snicker? A human… snicker…

I heat up some wings and went to sit on the couch to start eating. Ah what peace… to sit in your underwear, eating greasy spicy wings, watching trash tv.

Except. I don’t feel at peace whatsoever.

I keep feeling like I’m being watched, and it’s way too fucking cold. It’s like a 100 degrees outside, and it’s freezing in here. Maybe it’s because I’m barely wearing anything?

I swear someone is watching me and I’m confused how my mind even came up with that conclusion, with no realistic root cause.

I switch the TV off to sit in silence for a minute trying to understand what I’m feeling.

And now it feels creepier.

I suddenly feel even more exposed and naked, and I just want to crawl into bed and hide in my blanket.

I get up and do exactly that.

———-

What? Where the hell am I?

I look around and it’s my new apartment… only it’s empty and the room is lit red.

I’m wearing the same set of underwear I slept in yesterday and it’s… hot in here…

Why do I feel things…

Suddenly there’s a mirror in front of me and I look at my reflection. My hair is messy, sexy and my lips are red and plump. My underwear set looks strangely sexy, and I feel… seductive…

I feel myself getting hotter and I close my eyes and sigh.

I feel a cool breath hit the nape of my neck and it sends chills down my spine.

I look up to see a very, very handsome man standing behind me. His jaw chiseled to perfection and messy curly strands of hair falling on his face, eyebrow piercing glistening, tattooed hands with thick bands of rings decorating his fingers, his black leather jacket barely hiding the thickness of his biceps… fuck. His face is hiding in my neck, breathing on it gently.

“Wh-what are you…” I let out, breathing heavily.

I suddenly feel so exposed, with him looking like that in his leather jacket and me exposed standing in front of him… I could fall to my knees.

“Ssh… it’s okay. I won’t hurt you,” he whispers in a low tone and fuck, I don’t think perfection is the word for whatever he is.

I lean my head back to rest on his shoulders as his hand comes up to wrap around my exposed neck. He’s biting my neck, moaning, and I know I’m going to pass out in pleasure without him doing much.

“Please,” I beg, whimpering.

Within a second, he pushes me against a wall only to stare directly into my eyes.

“I want you to only beg.”

His eyes are dark, seductive and I don’t think I can ever stop staring. Fuck, this level of sexy has to be demonic.

I blink a few times, only to wake up to a ceiling in front of my face than his eyes.

What the fuck?

Was that a dream?

———

Am I expected to go back to a normal life after that dream has effectively changed me forever?

I’m still wearing that same underwear set, and I cannot get him out of my mind.

Who even was that?

And that feeling of being watched has not gone away.

And for some reason… I like it.

In the dream, I was exposed in front of this man and I enjoyed being looked at like that. Maybe I enjoy being watched?

What if I am being watched?

So… what?

I’m sure nobody actually is, and it’s all in my head- maybe I should make use of this.

I don’t think getting over that dream is happening any time soon and fuck… that man…

I strip off whatever little I’m wearing, and get out my vibrator that I keep close.

Fuck.

This already feels good.

I love being watched.

I’m on the bed of the same bedroom I saw in my dream, with the lights turned down.

If I am being watched, I hope I put a good show on.

Please watch me.

Spreading my legs wide pretending I am being watched, I give into how dirty I feel and enjoy the pleasure I’m getting from this.

The feeling of being watched intensifies by a thousand, and it’s only helping me feel even better.

Now that I feel like I do have an audience, I moan even louder, enjoying how dirty I feel.

So I’m a filthy slut that loves being watched. Maybe that dream was just for enlightenment purposes, so that I know exactly what I like.

Fuck if only that man was real, and could watch me right now.

————

I’ve been questioning my sanity ever since I got off by pretending I’m being watched.

Questioning both in the sense that: why do I enjoy something like that, and why does it feel like I’m being watched NOW more than ever? It’s no longer a doubt in my head, I KNOW I am.

I’ve been searching this house for cameras only to find nothing.

Of course there’s nothing.

Then what the fuck is it?!

Suddenly I hear something fall and now chills are going up and down my spine. I run to the kitchen to see where the sound was coming from, only to find a cereal box on the floor.

Hmm.

Yup.

This place is fucked up.

From the corner of my eye, I swear I see a black leather jacket and immediately turn my head to confirm.

Fuck. Is it my dream that is haunting me?

I need a shower.

A cold shower.

——-

The cold water feels good on my skin, and my scalp. I feel like all the thoughts in my head are being shut up and I can finally relax.

Even in this seemingly haunted place, a cold shower is comforting.

Just as I sigh in pleasure, I feel a hand going up my leg.

A hand?!

I look down and see nothing, but my body is shivering.

I feel a slight touch over my lower stomach going down to my centre and for a moment I choose to believe it’s just water dripping down.

Fuck it feels good, whatever it is.

I feel my nipples harden with the more sensations I feel down there, and I know it’s not water.

I know something is messing with me.

“Please stop,” I beg, voice quivering with fear.

This isn’t a joke and fuck why does it feel good?!

All the sudden, I feel absolutely nothing. I take this change to sprint to my bedroom, despite being naked.

Getting dressed in an oversized tshirt, I crawl into my blanket and hope sleep takes over me.

I’m going to sleep scared but it’s not like I can do anything.

I know this thing isn’t evil… it’s just… what the fuck?

———

I wake up in the red room again.

On my bed.

Wearing the same oversized t shirt with nothing under.

The room feels hot again.

I feel hot again.

It’s that man again. Looking into the same mirror where we stood. He’s running his hands through his hair…

“Comfortable bed?”

Huh…

Fuck. His voice. Fuck, fuck. No wonder I feel hot.

I sit up straight not answering his question, covering my lower parts.

“I asked you a question.”

“I-I… yes,” I say softly, intimidated by his dominating tone of voice.

“Good. It’s fun to see you.. enjoy… that bed,” he says, winking at me through the mirror.

“What… do you mean?”

“Do you want to find out?”

He asks, turning to face me.

Suddenly I feel so exposed, so aware that I’m not wearing anything under this shirt.

“Take off that tshirt,” he says, coming towards me, his eyes getting darker and his steps slow.

“I can’t… I can’t, I’m not wearing anything…” I say, feeling slightly scared but I know I want to be naked for him. I want to be watched by him.

“I know you want me to see you like that. And I’m not asking.”

“But… who are you? I can’t do this,”

“Don’t lie to me. Take it off.”

I slowly take it off, covering myself with my hands because even though I want this, he makes me feel way too shy.

“Stand up.”

His veiny tattooed hands gesture me to stand up, and his messy hair cover his eyes, making him look more intimidating than before.

Standing up, I realise I’m fully naked in front of this man that I don’t even know.

“Yeah, you like this don’t you? Little miss exhibitionist slut? Bet you want to strip in front of an audience…” he says lowly, circling me.

His hands reach for the lower part of my stomach, trailing downwards and I swear I’ve felt it before.

Fuck.

His other hands slightly goes over my ass, his touch feathery light.

“Yeah you fucking like this,” he growls in my ear. I can feel his cold lip ring hit my ear and his rings right above my folds.

“Stay like this.” He backs away, just to stare me down.

“I’m giving you what you want. I’ll watch you.”

Inspecting me and staring at me, I feel myself get really, really wet. Fuck. This is a dream, though…

He smirks and laughs, coming closer again.

“Back to bed.” He pushes me down the bed, and it wakes me up.

I wake up in the same bed.

Wearing nothing.

———

Everything is weird.

Every night, I dream of him.

And every night, he commands me to do things I know I secretly would love to do.

I feel so dirty, so filthy, so liberated.

I feel watched everyday, and I get off it.

I’ve never felt more pleasured. Both in real life, and in my dreams.

He doesn’t do anything to me… and I haven’t asked him to… but I want him to.

And he’s not even real.

Standing in my bathroom and looking into my mirror, the image of him standing behind me flashes in my mind.

Fuck…

I take off my towel to be naked, to feel as dirty as I did when he stood behind me. Closing my eyes, I sigh.

“Attagirl…” a seductive whisper says, and my eyes shoot wide open.

There’s no one here…

“Who’s there?! What are you?!” I yell, looking around.

“Whatever you want me to be.” The same voice says, and I know it’s him.

From my dreams.

“Y-you? Why can’t I see you?”

“Do you want to?”

“Fuck! Just stop scaring me! Please! Please stop this,” I beg, nearly crying.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and I turn around.

It’s him.

Standing right there.

Looking the same as he does in my dreams.

“Y-YOU!” I screech, tripping backwards and hitting a wall.

“Me. Jungkook. Yeah,” he says casually, running his hands through his hair. I should not be finding this erotic right now.

I yell at the top of my lungs and he grimaces.

“Shut the fuck up, princess. I’m not alive but that doesn’t mean my eardrums can’t be ripped apart.” He says, strangely gently.

NOT ALIVE?!

“WHAT? WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” And can you ask me to shut up like that again? Fuck. No, wait, he’s not even REAL?

He walks closer to me, coming up really close. Pushing me against the wall with my hands above my head, he looks straight into my eyes.

“Like this?”

“Y-yeah… but answer me… what are you…? What is this?”

“Do. You. Like. This?” He asks again, his dominance dripping with every word.

“I like it.”

“What do you like?”

“T-this…”

“Be fucking descriptive, love.”

“I like being pushed against the wall like this,” I whimper. I suddenly realise I’m completely naked in front of him, once again.

“Nah.” He says, tongue poking the inside of his cheek and eyes rolling.

Fuck.

“I swear…” I say softly.

“You like being naked like this, and I want you only like this,” he whispers into my ear, making my body go warm.

I feel my inner thighs wet with all the arousal I’m feeling, making me whimper even more.

“But I’ll let you in on a few secrets first,” he begins, pulling away and handing me a towel.

Wrapping the towel around me while shivering, I feel scared to know what’s coming next.

It’s as if a fog took over my mind to not let me fully realise that there is a strange entity right in front of me, that’s made me feel things I didn’t think I could.

None of this is normal, how am I not calling the cops?! Or a doctor?! Am I going insane?!

“No you’re not. Come,” he responds to me thoughts while taking my hands and guiding me out to the living room, sitting me down.

“What the fuck are you?” I say, finally a voice coming out of me.

“Ah, you can speak.” He smirks, knowing full well his effect on me.

“You never gave me a chance to speak in every dream I’ve seen you in,” why am I joking around when this is not even a REAL PERSON?

“What can I say, my hands on your throat seems pretty ideal.”

Fucking hell.

“I own this house,” he says.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“This is my house.”

“No, I believe it’s mine,” I say, not actually believing that.

“I am the original owner, I used to live here. I don’t anymore, of course. I’m stuck here, which is fair, because it’s my house.” He says, very casually, while taking a seat.

“What happened to you? Are you a ghost?”

“If that. But sure, maybe. I can’t remember what happened and I don’t care. I love it here. You make it even better,” he says, very seriously.

“So whatever I’ve been feeling about being watched…”

“Me. And I know you knew it’s me. Didn’t you?”

“Did I?”

“Well, were you spreading your legs at the thought of someone else watching you?”

My face turns deep red. He knows everything about me.

“How do you know… what I was thinking…”

“Not sure. Not my experience with any of the people that stayed here, you’re the first.”

“You’ve seen other people do this? You enjoy it?”

“You’re the first. And I do enjoy it… and you enjoy being fucking filthy, don’t you?” He says, taking off his leather jacket.

Fuck, I absolutely cannot deal with him looking like that right now.

“I enjoy watching you be naked for me. I know it’s for me.” He says lowly, getting up and coming towards me.

Pulling my chin up to look at him, I whimper staring into his eyes.

“Fuck. I can give you what you want if you want it…” he whispers, getting closer.

“Watch me.”

“I do.”

His lips trail down my jaw down to my chest, and I know I won’t be able to bear this any longer.

“Fuck.” I moan out loud, eyes closing.

“Let’s.”

Note: If you guys want a part 2, let me know.

[yanderes-galore]

Fandom: BioShock (Infinite)

Character: Sander Cohen

Pairing: romantic

Type of Fic: a short! Sander requests that the Darling, who's been invited to his fancy shindig in his club in the frolic (from the game, idk if you know but you can look up clips to see what I mean) dances on the stage and gets angry when They disrupt his muse and BOOM! SHOCK TIME! Rest is up to you :D

I'm apologize because this may be a bit short but here's what I got! I made it open ended as I felt it may be creepier but it's a vague yandere here.

Luckily I did not lose my draft like I thought ^^;

The title is inspired by this Bioshock rap by JT Music, you can find it here! I personally like it :)

Masquerade

Yandere! Sander Cohen Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Delusional behavior, Implications of stalking, Manipulation, Violence, Anger issues, Murder, Kidnapping, Forced relationship implied, Open ended, Dark content, Grotesque descriptions, Vague on darling's fate, Possible OOC Cohen???

Chills ran down your back as you walk through the event. Sander Cohen is a known artist, and psycho, in Rapture. It's a big deal to be invited to one of his clubs and events.

Especially his artistic Masquerade parties.

Everyone knows only certain organizations are given a rabbit mask to go. However, you aren't part of any big organization. Despite such a detail... a mask was delivered to your room.

You thought it was a mistake, in fact you hoped it was. Unfortunately when you check the hand written note... you see your name. There's no mistaking it, you were meant to come.

You didn't know why but was Cohen ever a predictable individual?

As much as you dreaded to go you gave it a shot. You wore the mask with a matching outfit and left. Part of you only went because you wanted to know why you were picked.

Even if you may dread the answer anyway.

Before you even entered the club you got a weird feeling. Giving your name they let you enter without much fuss. Now you're left to wander corridors filled with men and women dressed as rabbits.

You didn't even realize your mask was slightly different than the rest until you saw them.

Looking into their eyes gave you a feeling of fear. Despite looking almost like the rest you felt you were the only prey. Ignoring such feelings you walk deeper in hopes of seeing what you need to see before leaving.

Hopefully this would all be done quick.

You hoped no one would pick you out of the crowd. Even when you walked down some stairs and found the "main event", you hoped you could blend in. This whole event activated your anxiety.

It only worsened when you saw Cohen.

You watch silently as the psychotic artist paints on a canvas. Dancers twirl in front of him with praise. Hesitancy makes your movements stilted as you take your place beside the other guests.

Is this it? Just some painting and praise? Seems... less scary than you thought it would be.

Then there's the sound of hissing electricity and the screams of the dancers.

Your mind nearly doesn't process it at first. You don't realize what happened until the smell of burning flesh meets your nose. Then there's the frustrated yell of Cohen.

"IT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH! You've ruined my muse..." Cohen snarls, the corpses of the dancers now being lifted in the air to be around of the way. The artist tries to soothe his anger before combing the crowd with his eyes. You go to hide behind another guest...

Only for Cohen to make eye contact with you.

You start to have a feeling the slightly different mask was on purpose. His glare of anger turns to excitement when he sees you and he beckons you closer. Your anxieties quickly make you feel ill.

"You! I'm so happy you came, my most important guest.... You will be my muse! Come come!" Cohen encourages, stepping closer to you.

You bite your lip before slowly glancing up at the hanging corpses. Like an actual rabbit you find yourself shaking before being dragged to Cohen. You were going to die....

"Now now... no need to be so worried! My little moth, you'll do wonderful on that stage. I'll paint every moment of your beauty!" Cohen coos before changing his tone. "Don't disappoint. Now dance! Dance for me!"

You're roughly shoved onto the stage, stumbling pathetically as a result. Not wanting to die and succumb to a similar fate of the dancers, you sway yourself into a rhythm to appease the artist. For now... he seems pleased.

"Beautiful..." He breathes. "Your beauty is splendid! Every movement is divine.... You and I are going to be something great!"

You try not to spend too much time on his words, you need to survive.

"I knew I picked out the right one when I saw you... took forever to find you, my muse! But now you're here...."

He swipes a brush against the canvas, observing your moves to the music. You try to keep your movements correct. Yet you can't help but come to a twisted realization...

Have you been stalked?

"Now that I have you... our art will be wonderful! You'll forever be my muse... forever depicted in my art..."

Was he inching near a lever?

"I think there's only one thing that can accentuate your beauty, my little moth..."

Wait, no, please- You did everything right!

"Pain makes the best art, don't you agree?"

With a flick of the lever electricity courses through you. Your mind draws a blank as your seize, each muscle and fiber of your body being burned. Once he flicks it off you collapse onto the floor.

Your senses burn, everything burns. Are you alive or dying? You can't tell... you can barely even see Cohen walking towards you.

"You'll be my greatest masterpiece..." Cohen grins, touching your overstimlulated skin.

"Just you wait and see, MY muse."

[thatmarvelobsessedteen]

Not planned...not planned at all

Cassian x reader

Azriel x OC! reader's cousin

Short Summary: Two girls, cousins, somehow find themselves inside a slightly modified version of their favorite book saga ACOTAR. What will happen to them, things have changed and not just their situation but themselves...are those pointy ears they now have?

Chapter 7

The only one that returned the energy was of course Cassian, but I might not have been prepared to see his shine at that very moment.

My heart was asking to jump right out my throat and at him.

He didn't just smile, he shined bright as the sun like he was a being filled of fluff and love! And yet he was a very tall bulky and scary looking man, oh the irony.

To be fair he didn't look amused at the moment, he just seemed to be glowing with joy for some reason?

Suddenly Rhysand's head snapped towards both of his brothers with a shocked incredulous look on his face and they likely started speaking through their thoughts because Cassian's smile turned into some kind of a pout and he crossed his arms over his chest while Azriel nodded dutifully although he too looked disappointed.

I took it as a chance to stand up, slowly so that I would catch their attention and get pinned to the ground in case I was of any sort of danger, not that I would've minded.

Helping pull up Roxanne with me I look at the boys then back at her raising my brows. She makes a face pursing her lips and giving me a smirk.

"Oh shut up, I did not! I wasn't that obvious..."

Roxanne didn't so much as blink giving me the look that clearly meant "sure honey whatever rocks your boat".

"Please, you weren't discreet either! Didn't even say a word and just stared, who's the weirdo then?"

This time Roxanne did glare at me rolling her eyes.

"Anyways...You boys do know that even together me and Roxy barely oppose any type of threat!"

Cassian's head looked like it might snap from how fast he turned when I addressed them, Rhysand looked intreaged while Azriel just glared and raised his bandaged hand.

"That barely even counts you yeeted us around like it was nothing!"

Roxanne nodded in agreement rubbing her sore ass from when Azriel threw her.

"What did you expect? We open our eyes in the middle of the mountains with pointy ears next there's a random big guy with giant fucking wings reaching for us. Also be thankful I got stressed and just thought to bite, you were reaching to grab my cousin while she was half knocked out on the ground!"

Of course Rhysand just smirked, his smirk is creepier in real life than books.

"You're not helping your cases!"

Finally Roxanne decided to speak.

"If she barks she won't bite. It's when she's quiet that stuff gets dangerous! Plus we've got zero combat training other than self taught crap and me with Judo, but that's self defense primarily"

I stare open mouthed at my cousin.

"So it's all bluff?"

Should I scream fuck you Rhys? No. Would I if it didn't equal death? Most definitely!

"My point is...bitch"

I give a quick playful glare and my cousin, to which she sends a flying kiss my way.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Cardboard Box pt 3

OK, so this was mostly solved last part, with a few hanging threads, mainly being the motive and who the second ear belongs to. Our working theory is a man that Mary's husband thought she was having an affair with. But how that all relates to Sarah Cushing and why he sent the ears to her specifically. My best guess is she was encouraging Mary to leave him and 'befriend' this other guy in some way?

“Lestrade has got him all right,” said Holmes, glancing up at me.

Welp, that was quick. I guess no one is dying in a mysterious shipwreck this week, even though there are actual sailors involved this time.

“In accordance with the scheme which we had formed in order to test our theories” [“the ‘we’ is rather fine, Watson, is it not?”]"

Are we going to get Holmes' commentary throughout? That would be fun. Throwing shade at Lestrade here for taking partial credit for everything. Fair.

@ameliahcrowley did the research about May Day and apparently it wasn't in use as a distress signal yet at this time, which surprised me. So this ship name is just retroactively ironic, which is one of the best flavours of irony.

"I found that there was a steward on board of the name of James Browner and that he had acted during the voyage in such an extraordinary manner that the captain had been compelled to relieve him of his duties."

This guy has zero chill, which we already knew because he was going around murdering his wife and sending ears to her relatives, but he fails so completely at getting away with it, it's kind of farcical.

I guess it makes sense that he'd be a bit weird after killing his wife. But at the same time, the kind of effort it takes to cut off ears, pack them in salt and send them off to women in Croydon indicates a level of thought and planning that is clearly not evident anywhere else in his crime. So weird.

"He jumped up when he heard my business, and I had my whistle to my lips to call a couple of river police, who were round the corner, but he seemed to have no heart in him, and he held out his hands quietly enough for the darbies."

This reads as though the guy is feeling guilty or remorseful, but please see prior notes about taking the time to pack ears in salt. The remorse was a really delayed reaction, huh?

Mr Browner's understanding of what he did dawning:

"...bar a big sharp knife such as most sailors have..."

If he has a big sharp knife, why did he use a blunt one to cut the ears off? Unless the blunt just meant 'not as sharp as a scalpel', which seems an unfair benchmark of sharpness to put on a knife. Not everyone can be a scalpel.

"The affair proves, as I always thought it would, to be an extremely simple one, but I am obliged to you for assisting me in my investigation."

This isn't exactly a lie. Except it kind of is. Lestrade at least claimed to think it was just the medical students the whole time, but at the same time he called Holmes in, which seems like a weird thing to do if he was convinced it was a prank?

"I tell you I've not shut an eye in sleep since I did it, and I don't believe I ever will again until I get past all waking."

Again, this is strange to me. Like did he get through the whole posting of the ears and did the guilt set in immediately after that, or did he do that while feeling guilty? which makes no sense. I do not understand this man.

"Ay, the white lamb, she might well be surprised when she read death on a face that had seldom looked anything but love upon her before."

And this does not read like the words of someone who feels remorse. I feel like Jim Browner is a very disturbed individual. This is very creepy. Anyone who compares another person to a 'white lamb' is instantly ten times creepier than they were before. I'm already getting 'my wife drove me to it' delusional self-justification from his language.

"For Sarah Cushing loved me—that's the root of the business—she loved me until all her love turned to poisonous hate when she knew that I thought more of my wife's footmark in the mud than I did of her whole body and soul."

Oh, I did not see that coming. Although thinking back, the way her interactions with him were referred to were a bit weird. I thought it was just a Victorian flare for language coming through, but no.

I said last time that Mary needed better sisters. She really needed better sisters.

"The old one was just a good woman, the second was a devil, and the third was an angel. Sarah was thirty-three, and Mary was twenty-nine when I married."

A devil and an angel? Right, this guy has unrealistic expectations of the women in his life, I can tell you that right away. The Madonna-Whore complex called, Jim, it thinks you might have a problem.

For someone who is so guilty he can't sleep, Jim Browner is trying very hard to seem like the victim here. Dude murdered two people and cut off their ears and he's determined that it's Sarah's fault. I'm not saying she had nothing to do with it, but seems like he's having a little trouble with accountability here.

Also, her seduction of him is very... like she took hold of his hand and looked at him? That's all she did? I was expecting something more overt. Although this is the Victorian era, I guess maybe that's pretty overt by their standards? Or he misread the entire situation.

"Things went on much as before, but after a time I began to find that there was a bit of a change in Mary herself. She had always been so trusting and so innocent, but now she became queer and suspicious, wanting to know where I had been and what I had been doing, and whom my letters were from, and what I had in my pockets, and a thousand such follies."

This whole thing reads very strangely. 'so trusting and so innocent', and the pedestal he seems determined to put his wife on. It's all a little icky. He seems like a remarkably unreliable narrator.

OK, maybe it happened like he says. We have no evidence in the text contradicting him as of yet. But at the same time we only have his word for any of this and it's possible that he hit on Sarah rather than the other way around, she told Mary. OR that neither of them was hitting on each other, but they both thought the other one was hitting on them and things... spiralled.

"I can see now how she was plotting and scheming and poisoning my wife's mind against me."

If this story hadn't ended with him murdering people and mutilating their corpses, I'd be more inclined to believe him at face value, but knowing the extremes he went to, I feel like this is just massive paranoia.

"And then this Alec Fairbairn chipped in, and things became a thousand times blacker."

Ah, we finally get to the owner of the second ear. Alas, poor Alec. You were doomed by the narrative.

“‘It was only a little thing, too. I had come into the parlour unexpected, and as I walked in at the door I saw a light of welcome on my wife's face. But as she saw who it was it faded again, and she turned away with a look of disappointment."

His entire motive is based on two moments when he saw a look in a woman's eyes? Are you kidding me, Mr Browner? Are you a telepath? Can you read their minds? You have no evidence of literally anything and you just murdered people?

Maybe we're getting to the evidence. Maybe you're going to walk in on them in a compromising position, or find a love letter, or overhear a incriminating conversation. But so far all we have is 'my sister-in-law was upset I didn't enjoy her company and held my hand and made eye contact with me' (which I agree was a bit weird, but not conspiracy worthy) and 'my wife looked like she was looking forward to talking to someone who wasn't me'.

“You can do what you like,” says I, “but if Fairbairn shows his face here again I'll send you one of his ears for a keepsake.”

OK, no. You're just going straight to threats of violence. No further proof needed.

“‘Well, I don't know now whether it was pure devilry on the part of this woman, or whether she thought that she could turn me against my wife by encouraging her to misbehave.'"

The paranoia and entitlement is so strong in this one. He's completely irrational. We're all agreed on that, right? Maybe he was right about everything, but he's based all of his conclusions on...

heh...

He's based all his conclusions on vibes.

I played myself.

At least I didn't kill anyone over it.

"'How often she went I don't know, but I followed her one day, and as I broke in at the door Fairbairn got away over the back garden wall, like the cowardly skunk that he was. I swore to my wife that I would kill her if I found her in his company again, and I led her back with me, sobbing and trembling, and as white as a piece of paper.'"

This is slightly more incriminating, but given that there was a threat made to cut off the man's ears, that seems enough reason for him to run away. And death threats are never cool.

"'The thought was in my head as I turned into my own street, and at that moment a cab passed me, and there she was, sitting by the side of Fairbairn, the two chatting and laughing, with never a thought for me as I stood watching them from the footpath.'"

Honestly, at this point if she was having an affair with him I'm kind of okay with that. Mr Browner is clearly paranoid, violent and unstable. Divorce wasn't really an option for her because Victorian divorce laws were sexist and terrible, and from Browner's earlier description Fairbairn seems like a pretty cool guy. I hope she at least had fun before her husband brutally murdered her.

OK, point of Victorian etiquette, was it considered scandalous to be alone in a cab together? To me that's far less intimate than being found alone in a house together. But chatting in a cab? I suppose there isn't a chaperone, so maybe.

“‘Well, I took to my heels, and I ran after the cab. I had a heavy oak stick in my hand, and I tell you I saw red from the first; but as I ran I got cunning, too, and hung back a little to see them without being seen.'"

Either you couldn't think straight OR you could think straight enough to be cunning. You can't have it both ways. That's not how it works. EITHER you're blinded by jealousy and commit a crime of passion, OR you're thinking through your plan. My dude, you're undermining your own argument (although, as mentioned, the ear thing already did that).

They do seem to be having a very nice date. Good for them. Pity about the murderer lurking in the shadows.

And he's spending an entire day stalking them. Yeah, no, Mr Browner, we're way outside of 'blind jealous rage' murder. You hired a boat specifically to hunt them down and kill them without witnesses. This is now officially premeditated.

"'I cleaned myself up, got back to land, and joined my ship without a soul having a suspicion of what had passed. That night I made up the packet for Sarah Cushing, and next day I sent it from Belfast'."

Yeeeaaah, those are not the actions of a remorseful person.

You're just a dick.

If only she'd had good sense and just run the fuck away with Mr Fairbairn and changed her name. Genuinely, usually I'm super against infidelity in all forms, but you seem like a real piece of work. Your story is so full of inconsistencies and irrational jealousy and paranoia that I can't believe half of it.

"'I cannot shut my eyes but I see those two faces staring at me—staring at me as they stared when my boat broke through the haze. I killed them quick, but they are killing me slow; and if I have another night of it I shall be either mad or dead before morning.'"

Can confirm: you are already 'mad'. Your actions were not those of a mentally stable person. Not that that's why you did it. You clearly have problems, but loads of people deal with problems without killing people. You just suck, my dude. And honestly, zero sympathy.

'I feel super guilty about the crime I threatened to commit, then deliberately set up so as not to get caught, then followed up with acts of bodily mutilation, cover-up, and terrorising of the victim's relatives. But now I feel super guilty.'

Yeah, this whole account is just one long rant about how he's not really responsible. It was the women who drove him to it. By... talking to men and... looking at him funny.

“What object is served by this circle of misery and violence and fear? It must tend to some end, or else our universe is ruled by chance, which is unthinkable. But what end? There is the great standing perennial problem to which human reason is as far from an answer as ever.”

Super philosophical at the end there Holmes. Seems like Holmes at least is taking Browner at his word about Sarah, or else the cycle doesn't really make any sense here. Even if Sarah did put events in motion, it's not really a cycle. It's just... a couple of rather horrible people being horrible to each other.

Or maybe he's referring to the death penalty?

Well, this one was weird. Given ACD's predilection for spiritualism and the afterlife, it's possible he intended the guilt plaguing Browner here to be the spirits of the people he murdered, which - given his lack of accountability throughout his own narrative - actually makes more sense. But there's no evidence of that in the text, so that's just me. But mark it down as another score on the 'supernatural Holmes universe' tally.

[saintnoname2]

Rewatching season 2 of The Bear and Claire's reaction to Carmy giving her a fake number? God, what a fucking slimeball. It's even creepier than I remember it being the first time. And I'm sure there will be other moments with Claire that'll be creepier to me the second time around, like the party. Were the writers intentionally setting up red flags like, "Hey, this could've turned abusive if it went on for too long" or were we really meant to side with her in the finale?

So much care has gone into every other character's arc (even characters who don't necessarily have "arcs" and only appear in an episode are still fully fleshed out) and so much care has gone into every other aspect of storytelling in this show that, like many others, I'm puzzled by Claire. Maybe it's supposed to be more, "Hey, this could've turned abusive if it went on for too long, but also Claire is still a person with feelings and those feelings were hurt and Carmy was stressed out being stuck in the walk-in and he could've handled the situation better and he could've broken up with her with more tact"?

They managed to give that kind of nuance to Donna. They made us empathize with her and feel bad for her while still showing she was abusive and it gave us an idea of where those abusive behaviors could've come from for her and gave us an idea of where some of Carmy's behaviors could've come from. And unfortunately, as someone who has already been abused by more than one person (let's not forget his former boss, too) and doesn't have much experience with romance and being able to recognize what healthy romantic relationships look like, Carmy is extremely vulnerable to being abused by a romantic partner.

This whole thing with Claire and how his relationship with his mom could've set him up to be in a toxic relationship could've had so much depth, but unfortunately, I don't think that's what they were actually going for. If it is what they were going for, they didn't quite stick the landing. Instead, I agree with the general consensus that Claire wasn't a character so much as a plot device to show that Carmy struggles with work-life balance. I feel like they could've gone, "Hey look, Carmy struggles with work-life balance" while also going, "Hey look, Carmy's been abused and doesn't have much experience with recognizing healthy relationships, and these are some red flags that the audience is supposed to notice that Carmy doesn't notice, and this romantic relationship could've turned abusive if it went on too long and Carmy was right to wait for the shoe to drop because it would've motherfucking dropped (just not in the way Carmy expedcted), but Carmy didn't handle the breakup well, and Claire's feelings were hurt, and Claire is a person with a history and she's probably got her own reasons for acting the way she does." I know for a fact the writers would've been able to handle that, and I think it would've told a much better story. But instead they decided to stop at, "Hey look, Carmy struggles with work-life balance" without delving into Claire at all.

[oodlyenough]

last of us 1x08

I had fucked up dreams last night after watching this episode lmfao

Obviously this will talk about the content of the ep so general cw for attempted child sexual assault and uh cannibalism I guess

Overall, probably one of the best this season. Very faithfully adapted from the game, which is a neutral point, but I was impressed that for all I knew what was going to happen basically beat by beat I was still on edge.

Not sure if this is #unpopular or not but I found David MUCH creepier here (from a starting place of "very creepy already" in the game), and I also found his characterization overall to be better. I've never really been sure if in the game you're meant to ever trust him, but I never did, partly because Nolan North plays him with the slimiest voice imaginable, so him turning out to be a creep is kind of a no-shit moment.

Whereas I thought this David was much better at putting up a front, which in turn made him all the more terrifying. It was way too easy to imagine this David pre-apocalypse, teaching (UGHHH), ingratiating himself in the community, getting away with all of it because these kinds of men so often do. The slide "from teacher to preacher" god like of COURSE this mf would find a different way to gain power, control and access over people including/especially children... Ugh it was all 2 Real and that much more creepy.

I also though the way they dealt with the cannibalism was very good honestly. It would've been easy to purely justify it with "people are starving, and we're eating the dead" -- which is kind of what David says, but you can use the context clues to deduce that it's not just that they're eating their dead out of desperation, but that they are actively hunting people for food, he's keeping it a secret, it's, imo, clearly part of his sick power-tripping rather than necessity (as others pointed out, relatively inexperienced Ellie finds game very quickly and easily in one hunting trip lol).

I also thought the slight tension between David and James was interesting here -- obviously James is also a freak, lol, but their disagreement over how to handle Ellie and the general rift between them, as the episode goes on I think you do get the sense that even James is uncomfortable with this side of David and tried roundabout ways to talk him out of going after her or just about shot her in the head. (I keep wanting to joke that James is like "I can excuse cannibalism, but..." but frankly 1. one of these things IS worse than the other and also 2. in the end he still enables everything David does anyway! Bc of course he does. Isn't that how it always goes.)

This was definitely the big showcase for Ellie and for Bella Ramsey. (Watching people whine and cry about it, "two episodes of mostly Ellie wahhhhh" lmaooo shes the main character of the franchise losers, deal with it.) Ramsey was very good. Everyone's saying it but yes the primal screaming in that restaurant scene, ugh, chilling and excellent.

I did find the very first scene between Ellie, James and David had me wincing, like Ellie's tough guy voice was just so bad and felt like a kid play-acting ... but then I suppose that was probably the exact intent, that Ellie was trying to be threatening but wasn't capable of actually BEING threatening in that moment. There's a huge difference between that fake bravado and her (entirely justified) rage and violence later in the episode.

Joel was very Joel in this. I don't have much to say about him lol, it was nice to see Pedro's Joel go a bit unhinged, something we've heard tell of in various episodes but only seen scraps of before. "It's all right, I believe him" is such a memorable bit of the game and it just as chilling here.

Ok time for some criticisms:

They leaned HARD into the pedophile angle for David here. That was always in the game, but it was fairly subtextual, with more emphasis on the cannibalism. Here it was the reverse. Although disturbing, I generally didn't mind -- but I did feel the final scene, and specifically his dialogue in it, about "liking the fight" was just too Ick for me. Very HBO. I felt we didn't need it to know what he was going to do. (Then again audiences do miss the obvious all the time...)

I didn't really miss the infected fight in this episode. I saw people say that you need it to build a false sense of trust between David and Ellie but like... lmao idk I never trusted that guy for a single second. BUT I will say I *do* wish we saw more infected in the series overall. I know it's not about the zombies~ but they are still, uh, the reason all of this is going on, fundamentally. They're what makes rebuilding a functioning large-scale society near impossible, because it falters so easily with a simple misstep leading to infection and outbreak.

The ending felt a bit rushed. The Joel-Ellie reunion didn't hit me as hard as I wanted, although it seems to have resonated with the show fans. It's not an issue (for me) of him pulling her off David, or not -- I like the way it played out -- it's just... I dunno. Something about the way it ended on the two of them wandering off together, maybe? Maybe I liked the game's cut to black with her sobbing in his arms more?

I also felt that because they spent more time with David's community, there was a real glaring absence of them in the climax. These people have been under David's thumb for who knows how long, presumably with James + co as his enforcers. Now they're free but directionless. What comes next? Obviously, the show can't explore all of that, but questions like "why hasn't anyone tried to stop Joel in town" "why didn't anyone notice the fire" "where are other guards" etc... I think we could've used another scene with Hannah and her mom (who totally looks just like Mel from TLOU2, lmao).

AND the biggest one of all...

Feeling pretty :/ about the "violent heart" speech to Ellie. From David's POV, it makes total sense for him to say those things. He's trying to manipulate and groom her. I completely buy the dialogue, from him.

But I was left wondering if I the viewer was meant to agree, concluded that I am probably supposed to agree, and also that I ... don't. This has been a recurring criticism from me of the show's portrayal of Ellie. I've mostly tried to make my peace with it by acknowledging Show Ellie and Game Ellie are different characters evolving slightly differently and living slightly different lives yadda yadda... But I dunno. I guess I won't be able to say how I feel about it until I see s2 and s3 anyway lmao.

[agirlinsearchof]

So, I have an ebook that I recently had to edit, because of the incredibly bizarre line breaks and typos. My mom had it, I don't know where she got it from.

As a result of editing it, I read it in its entirety, and actually enjoyed it (though I must confess, I would have enjoyed it more if I weren't so focused on correcting the formatting and typos).

It's called Nightlight: A Parody. It's a Twilight parody about a teenage girl named Belle Goose who falls in love with Edwart Mullen, a teenage boy with a love of computers and awkward social skills, who she concludes must be a vampire after he accidentally "saves" her from... a flying snowball.

TL;DR: I did not even like Twilight, yet I loved this book. And I bet even people who do like it will also like this.

Spoilers below!

So this parody has a couple of major twists to it that made me like it even better than I would have if they had stuck strictly with adapting the source material!

First of all, Edwart turns out to be a regular human guy, who Belle assumes is a vampire based on a series of coincidences. He's genuinely very sweet, and I was happy that he got together with Belle. I liked him way better than Edward!

Belle herself was also enjoyable to read about! She starts off kind of conceited, thinking every boy who pays attention to her is in love with her, but she outgrows this by the end. Her taste in boys changes, too! She's initially attracted to Edwart, aside from his good looks, because she thinks he is a vampire. Then they get attacked by an actual vampire, and when Belle finally directly, unambiguously tells him he's a vampire (up to this point he thought Belle was simply an eccentric role-player), he runs away, so she goes out with said actual vampire (who never meant to actually kill her, he was just pulling a prank). When he treats her badly, though, she and Edwart get back together, and the final chapter ends with a sweet scene of them as a couple.

And said actual vampire who Belle goes on a date with is Joshua. Ironically, personality-wise, while Edwart is closer to how Stephanie Meyer intended Edward to come across, Joshua is closer to how Edward was actually written. And unlike Edward, whose creepier behaviors were glossed over by the narrative, Joshua's mistreatment of Belle results in her leaving him in favor of Edwart, who she loves even if he isn't a vampire like she thought.

My only criticism of the writing is how unrealistic the video game Edwart made seems. Is Belle using an arcade stick? The way she's described using her pinky and middle fingers to press buttons suggests as much, but the game is apparently on the Wii? I know there's a Wii arcade stick, but I don't know how realistic homebrew Wii games are for late 2009. (Was the Wii arcade stick even around in 2009? Or does Edwart's uncle work for Nintendo?)

To quote the book itself:

[Edwart's] hands grabbed my hands like they were video game controllers. He pushed down on my left index finger. I low-kicked. He pushed down on my left pinkie. I jumped. He pushed down on my right thumb. I paused in mid-air. He kind of rotated my wrist while pushing down on my right middle finger. I crouched down and shot a fireball from my hands.

Like, what the frick is going on with that game controller? I get the feeling that between Edwart "saving" Belle from an old man trying to sell her "Sega products", telling her to stick with Nintendo, and... this mess of a description of someone using a game controller, I get the feeling whoever wrote those scenes was old enough to remember the Nintendo and Sega console wars, but hadn't played video games in a long time and wasn't up to speed on the fact that Nintendo's primary competitors were now Sony and Microsoft.

But this is just a nitpick. It doesn't bother me enough to stop me from recommending this book to anyone remotely interested in a Twilight parody.

[achitka]

Doors: Chapter 42

Tío José

There are some curious folks headed toward the Encanto. Camilo does more recon, Mirabel is stuck on a cart, Antonio does not like writing, Isabela doesn't know her own strength, Bubo finally wakes up and stay away from Miguel… he's creepier than I anticipated. No, really they're gonna make it back to town soon, I swear.

Alma sat between her daughters as the group of women discussed where and how they would house all the newcomers. There hadn’t been a group this large up to now. Usually, it was small family groups, such as Doris’s. She, Inez and the children were settling into a home that had been recently vacated. The family that lived there had moved to a larger home closer to the school. Doris was a little surprised, she was expecting they would be staying outdoors. Inez was delighted to have a roof over their heads after so long, and the children were excited at the prospect of going to school. The school had been shut down after the outbreak and was scheduled to reopen tomorrow.

Señora Aguilar was asking a question, but Alma wasn’t actually listening; her mind was on the information Dolores gave her and her daughters as she’d walked to the meeting. Dolores’s update of what was happening on the mountain, included her grandchildren’s speculation that the older woman may be related to her. She was not sure why this made her more than a little fearful and nervous. While the prospect of one of her sisters being alive was a good thing, at the same time she realized that she’d not seen anyone from her family for over fifty years.

Alma had forgotten the details of the dream that had awakened her, and she thought of the night when the magic returned. Bruno’s first sponty and how sure he was that whoever the woman he saw was; it was not her, but someone who looked a lot like her. Since the founding of the Encanto, she never thought it would be possible to find them. With three babies and a town to run, she had put that out of her mind.

She glanced out the window and saw Isabela and Tuli making their way up the road. She remembered then that Isabela was going to be working on the Jimenez farm near the edge of town. Isa had been working on strengthening the cassava crop this farmer had planted because the plants seemed off to the farmer’s wife. Tuli walked next to Isabela, holding her straw hat behind her. Skipping along, and she looked, for the moment, to be at ease. Alma had told Tuli that she could stay in the Encanto if Bubo did, she meant that. It would all come down to whether their Tío would allow it. Still, that was a worry for later and Alma was pulled out of her musings when Pepa lightly touched her hand and asked, “Mamá, you okay?”

Alma nodded and looked around. She realized she had no idea what anyone had said for the past half hour. Pepa picked up on her confusion and asked, “So you agree that the new folks will be housed on the fútbol field near the edge of town?”

Alma again nodded and added, “Yes, that would be best suited if we still have all the tents and equipment.”

“Most of those items were stored in the old shoe shop,” Sylvia Guzmán said, then turned to Julieta and asked, “How long does Dolores think it will be before they arrive in the town proper?”

“They’ve only just started back, so we’ll have at least three or four hours,” Julieta said as she rose, “Okay ladies, let’s go. The time will pass quickly, I’m sure, and we have a lot to get done,”

It made Alma happy that no one questioned Julieta's authority, as they all got up and collected the items they’d brought with them. Even the younger women were doing their part this time. Since the women outnumbered the men in the Encanto, Alma was not surprised. There were potential new unmarried men out there.

Alma put a hand on Pepa’s arm to keep her there and waited for the room to clear out. Julieta already knew what was happening because she’d spoken to the Doctor directly. She reminded Alma this morning that she needed to tell Pepa what was happening and to have a little more faith that Pepa would handle the news well. Alma had to admit a lot had changed with her middle child since the breaking. Pepa was far calmer and more in control of her Gift in a way that Alma had previously thought was not possible.

Julieta was the last one out and smiled at them encouragingly as she pulled the door closed. Alma took a deep breath, she’d put this conversation off for weeks, but it was clear to her that she needed to stop holding things in. She thought back to the time before the Gifts and how Pepa’s joy had always helped lift the shadow from her heart. Always her little ray of sunshine. Since the breaking, Pepa was once again full of joy as she watched her babies grow. Alma knew she needed to learn better to ask for help when she needed it and said, “Pepa, I’m sure you noticed that since my illness, I’ve been trying to do less these past few weeks.”

Pepa nodded and though she had already developed a cloud, there was no rain as she asked, “Is your health okay?”

“Yes,” Alma said with a smile as she took one of Pepa’s hands, “Right now I am fine, mi vida; however, I want you to be aware of what I am potentially facing and why I will be relying on you and your siblings more from now on,” There was no easy way to say this, so Alma again took a breath and said, “The Doctor says there is a problem with my heart.”

“What sort of problem?”

“He called it a heart murmur,” Alma paused when it started to drizzle. Pepa blew at the cloud, it dissipated, so Alma continued, “That means my heart does not always beat as it should, and he told me that if I wish to be around to see all of my nietos grow up, I need to take a step back from some of my usual responsibilities.”

Pepa nodded and asked as a new cloud formed, “How can I help, Mamá?”

“Well, you have been after me for quite some time to give you more stories for the family scrapbook you have been working on,” Alma paused as Pepa squeezed her hand, “now that things will be, hopefully settling down, I want to help you with that, if I can.”

“That would be wonderful, Mamá,” Pepa said and picked up the umbrella she had with her. She popped it open, and Alma heard the light rain Pepa had stopped before as it began to fall again, this time interspersed with some hail.

“To begin, I want to meet with you and your siblings at that yellow door at lunchtime tomorrow.”

“Did you remember something?” Pepa leaned in, her excitement causing a brief increase in the hail’s intensity.

The happiness Alma had felt the night before, again crept in, and she said, “Yes, but… ” and she held up a hand, “tomorrow, Pepita. I want all three of you to be there when I tell you.”

There was a quiet roll of thunder and Alma could not help but smile. Pepa shrugged as she let out a short laugh and said, “Okay, Mamá, tomorrow it is… at noon.” Her rain stopped, so she closed the umbrella, and together they got up to join the other women.

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

Camilo was headed to where Bubo’s Tío was standing when he paused and nudged Mariano, who was watching the people as they started to drift toward Mira. It amazed him that Mirabel never seemed to notice it happening. Mariano looked where Camilo indicated, and he too noticed Bubo leaning against a tree with his eyes closed. He’d never seen someone able to sleep standing up like that. Camilo’s Mamí had told him why Bubo was staying over last night, and both he and Mariano had seen Bubo stumble once or twice on the trip here. It was very evident he’d just not gotten enough sleep the night before. Mariano nodded, walked over and poked Bubo awake. He took him aside, at which point Bubo yawned mightily and rubbed his eyes. Mariano then bent nearer and said something that made Bubo shake his head. Mariano poked his arm and said something else. Bubo rolled his eyes but nodded. Together, they walked over to the cart where Luisa and Mirabel were. There was a brief exchange, then Bubo climbed into the cart and if Camilo didn’t know better, fell immediately asleep.

Mariano returned and said, “Well, that was easier than expected. Anyway, Camilo, do you think Dolores would like pastries?”

“What’s a pastries?” Camilo asked as the whole group began to follow the cart Luisa had placed Mirabel on.

“Fancy French desserts,” Mariano replied.

“Oh, probably. Dolores definitely has a sweet tooth.”

Mariano nodded, then asked, “What about Isabela?”

“I have no idea. You should probably ask Luisa or Mirabel that one.”

“Yes, okay then I’ll talk to you later,” and Mariano went back over and started speaking to Luisa.

Camilo watched him go and realized the more he got to know Mariano, the more he found that he actually liked the guy. All the time he’d spent mocking him because of Isabela’s supposed relationship had left Camilo believing the stuff he’d always heard. Mariano Guzmán was a big dumb hunk. He supposed he should not be surprised that his sister easily saw past the label he’d been stuck with since school. Now that Dolores was going to marry that guy, they’d be cuñados. Antonio already thought Mariano was loads of fun, since before the magic came back he’d been quite willing to carry his little brother on his shoulders all over town when Dolores was looking after him. Probably still would, but Parce was stiff competition.

“Excuse me, Señor Madrigal, do you have a moment?” Camilo turned and was surprised to find Old Arturo next to him with another of the group of newcomers. Something weird was going on. Arturo had never referred to him as Señor anything. Read the room, he thought and responded, “Yes, Señor Sanchez, how can I help you?”

Arturo quirked a smile and said, “I’d like you to meet Señor Rodriguez. It seems he was a science teacher in Bogotá. I had mentioned that you would be working at the school. He wanted to ask you some questions regarding that.”

Camilo found that odd as well. He’d only just been accepted as an apprentice there. Arturo knew that, so Camilo nodded. Arturo moved off and, at the same time, guided Señora Vargas toward someone else. Camilo could see that Arturo was purposefully not letting that woman anywhere near them, and was having fun using the woman’s ‘properness’ to do so. He’d seen him do that with Mariano’s mother occasionally, but it was more worrisome that Arturo felt he needed to do that. Still, Camilo trusted the old man’s instincts when it came to people’s intentions. He turned back to the man and noted he was at least as tall as his Papí, thin build, middle-aged, but had a thin face and a slant to his features that was borderline ugly. Would be a challenge to get that face right, Camilo thought, and had to resist an almost overwhelming urge to shift into a copy of the man, so asked, “We are quite proud of our school, just opened a larger one. What would you like to know, Señor Rodriguez?”

“Please, call me Miguel,” he replied and looked over his shoulder, “Only my students call me that.”

“Nice to meet you, Miguel. My name is Camilo.”

The man smiled and Camilo pulled back slightly, the smile did little to improve his looks and actually made him look creepy. Undeterred, Miguel leaned closer and asked, “José says you found his sobrino, Paola, and that they are currently in your town.” Camilo only nodded, so Miguel leaned even closer and continued, “Is it true you all believe that Paola is a girl?”

Camilo was not at all sure why this man wanted this information, but didn’t really like his tone. It made Camilo wonder what his actual motivations were and responded, “I’m not sure what it is you’re asking, Señor,” Camilo said, moving slightly back and glanced at José. He was nearby, still by himself, walking alone and looking thoughtful.

“I see,” Miguel said, “but you did not answer my question.”

“Nor will I,” Camilo said. He disliked where this was going and was now feeling more than a little irritated at this person and asked pointedly, “I thought you wanted to ask about the school?”

Miguel’s expression changed from clunky charm to one of apprehension, but he quickly stowed that, smiling once again, but the mask had slipped long enough for Camilo to decide he would tell him nothing regarding Tuli or the magic. Miguel said nothing, it was more than a little disturbing. The man remained silent as they walked, then suddenly turned back to the main party. Camilo watched as he made his way through the people and began speaking with Señora Vargas, who was now seated on the other cart. Bubo’s Tío was now very nearby and likely heard the exchange, and Camilo whispered, “Dol, some of this lot is full of potential trouble.”

(…Agreed... I’ll keep an ear on them…)

Camilo quickened his pace just a little until he was right next to Bubo’s Tío. José looked over and said, “I must apologize for my companions. They are a bit much sometimes.”

Camilo nodded, then asked, “Señor Márquez, may I ask you a question?”

“Only if I can ask one of you, Señor Madrigal.”

“Fair enough,” Camilo said, then asked, “How did you end up in charge of these people?”

José raised an eyebrow as he was probably expecting questions about Tuli, but he shrugged and said, “More of an accident. We came across their camp while my own group were attempting to track down my sobrino. Turns out they were refugees from Zipaquirá. Their houses had all been burned to the ground, and they were on the run. Since she ran a boarding house, the people with her thought Señora Vargas was best suited to lead them. Others from the group said she was leading them in circles. The other unfortunate person you met, Miguel, is her son. He is an unpleasant person, at best, and I would recommend you not give him or his mother information you do not want twisted and spread.” That certainly explained a few things Camilo thought. José continued, “They were very disorganized and on the verge of starvation, having run out of food and fresh water. We felt bad for the kids, so we decided to help them, and we only planned to stay with them long enough for them to get back on track. We were actually headed in the opposite direction when we ran into this one,” he said, and paused to pull a small notebook out of his pocket. He tapped it with his finger and continued, “Bubo gave me this. He said he got it from someone named Bruno. I know this belonged to the tracker because he was unusually protective of it. Now I know why. He claimed he’d seen a group of women with several children on the mountain where he lived and could lead us to them. He seemed very eager to help us and since we were short on leads at that point, we agreed.” Camilo nodded and José said, “So now to my question.”

“If I know, I’ll be happy to answer.”

José held up Santiago’s book and asked, “Do you know where this, Bruno, the man who owned this is?”

“Bruno? Oh no, Bruno is my Tío. The man who owned this, we believe his name was Santiago.”

“Santiago… that name does sound familiar… Is he in custody?”

“No, he’s dead, actually.”

José paled and said, “How? Did your Tío Bruno kill him? Is that how he got this book?”

Camilo held up his hands and shook his head. “No no no, Santiago died on the mountain.”

“Then you met him as well?”

“Ummm, not exactly. I can’t really give you the whole story here. Like you said, something's are better discussed in private, and my Papí would be a much better source of information.”

José looked around and nodded, then asked in a lowered voice, “One more thing, can I ask how you know Bubo?”

“I actually only just met your sobrino yesterday at a town meeting. He’s more a friend of Mariano’s,” Camilo said and pointed to him. He was now speaking with Miguel, and Camilo hoped Dolores had warned him about that one. “I know Mariano because he’s my sister’s fiancé. Anyway, the only reason it was yesterday is that Bubo hasn’t been around much since he’s been leading the group that’s been keeping watch on the outskirts of our town.”

“It would be like him to do something like that. I wondered why he had not returned, I had hoped he would come back six months ago,” José said, “Thank you, Señor Madrigal I need to speak with the others of my own group, how much further do we have to go?”

“It will be a few more hours of steady walking before we get to the town.”

José nodded, then moved toward a group of men that were staying together near the back of the line of people. Camilo looked toward the front and saw Mirabel was still sitting with her arms crossed on the cart, so Camilo went to cheer up his prima.

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

Antonio was sitting at the desk in his room with a stack of paper and a pencil, writing out:

‘ No usaré mi super jaguar volador para abalanzarme sobre Abuela.’

He was supposed to write that twenty times in his best handwriting. Twice his Papí had crossed off one or two of the lines because he said it was ‘illegible’ whatever that meant. Antonio had lost track of how many times he’d written the sentence and was seriously bored with it. Parce was asleep nearby and had not moved a centimeter since his Papí told the big cat he best not move from that spot until Antonio had completed his punishment. The jaguar had simply chuffed and closed his eyes.

Chipsi came over, and she whistled to see if he was hungry and Antonio smiled, “No, I can’t eat grass, but thanks for asking.” This made Antonio realize he’d missed out on lunch when his stomach growled. He threw back his head and said, “Ugh... I’m gonna starve to death.” Antonio sighed and looked at the papers. He began to count the lines. He ticked off each one, skipping the crossed off lines, and started to get excited when he realized he only had one more to go. He picked up his pencil and started to write really fast. Chipsi let out a chirp and Parce chuffed. Antonio looked at the line... he couldn’t really read what he wrote, and decided this must be what illegible meant. He sighed, crossed it out and began the last line again. This time he made sure to make his letters extra neat. He was just finishing up when his father appeared next to him. Antonio handed him the last two pages. His father looked at his work and nodded as he said, “Okay Toni, you can go have some lunch, but if we have to do this again, it will be forty times.”

Antonio shuddered and thought, forty would take forever and said, “Okay, Papí. I won’t do it again.”

His father smiled then sighed and said, “Off you go, but don’t leave Casita by yourself. There are a lot of new people on their way here that we know nothing about. Why don’t you take your sister some lunch for me? She’s in Mira’s room. It’s on the counter in the kitchen.”

Antonio nodded and went downstairs with Parce in tow. There was a basket with some wrapped sandwiches and some fruit. Antonio took the basket and went up to Mirabel’s room. He found his Tío Bruno sitting on the floor with his sister and he must have been telling her jokes because she was laughing.

“Hey Toni, I see you’ve finished your punishment,” Tío Bruno said as he came in the room.

Antonio nodded and said, “Yeah, and Papí asked me to bring Dolores some lunch.”

“Excellent,” he said, getting up, “Well, I’ll leave you to it then Toni. Dol, let me know when they all get here... I gotta do a thing, then maybe a nap.”

“Okay, Tío. Thanks for the company.”

“You’re welcome,” he said and walked out the door.

Antonio set down the basket as Parce laid near Abuela’s door. He pulled off the towel and Dolores put it in her lap. Antonio pulled out two of the sandwiches and some fruit. He sniffed the wrapping and smiled, recognizing the smell of one of his favorites.

“So, what did you bring me, Toni?” Dolores asked as she settled her hands on the towel in her lap.

“Pickled potato sandwiches,” Antonio said and handed her one.

“Oh, nice,” his sister said, “Mamí is really getting good at that one.”

Antonio nodded and while she was unwrapping it, his sister squeaked then laid a finger down and said, “Mariano, mi vida, be careful not to say too much to that one. Definitely nothing about Tuli or the Gifts.” 

She refocused on Antonio as he asked, “Doli, are these people bad?”

“Not so much bad, as snooping about things they have no business knowing,” Dolores said, and took another bite of her sandwich.

Antonio looked at all the lights swirling around on the floor. He could see they were following Luisa and Mirabel and said, “Papí says there were a lot of new people coming. Do you know how many?”

“Yes, thirty-two.”

“Wow, that is a lot. Any kids?”

“Yes, quite a few, actually.”

“Oh, how many?”

“Eleven, but most of them are still not old enough to go to school.”

Antonio looked over at Parce and asked, “You think they’ll be afraid of my friends?”

“Maybe at first. Parce is a really big jaguar.”

“Yeah,” Antonio said as he finished his second sandwich.

“You might want to slow down there, hermanito, you’re gonna get a tummy ache.”

“But they’re so delicious.”

Dolores took another bite of hers and said, “Can’t argue with that.”

Sitting with his sister was nice, but Antonio wanted to go out and play but since he couldn’t go out alone he asked, “Dolores?”

“Yeah, Toni?”

“Where did Tuli go?”

“She went with Isa to do some farm work at the Jimenez place.”

Antonio gave himself a shake and asked, “On purpose?”

Dolores smiled and said, “Not everyone gets to play all day.”

“I helped today,” Antonio said with a small pout.

“True, it’s a good thing Isa sent you into town to find me. No donkeys were loose, but those chickens would have taken forever to round up without you.” They ate in silence for a bit, then Dolores asked, “So little brother, you looking forward to being the star of Milo’s play?”

“Kinda, it is fun to put on costumes and stuff, but I don’t know if I can do it in front of a bunch of people.”

“Just pretend you’re doing it in front of your animal friends.”

“That’s a great idea Doli,” Antonio said, then looked over to the door when he heard a squeak. It was Tino and Antonio had to focus hard. Tino was talking too fast, and he said, “Tino, slow down a little bit...” The rat did, and Antonio's eyes went wide, and he said, “Oh my gosh. Doli, Tío Bruno needs help. Tino says Tío isn’t waking up and that his eyes...” Antonio was up and so was Parce.

“Hold on,” Dolores said and put her finger on her their Papí’s light. She relayed what Antonio told her and said to Antonio. “Toni, can you go get Tío Gus? He’s in the back garden.”

Antonio nodded and scooped up the rat, then hopped on Parce. They ran out the door, then down the stairs and out the back door. He reached the garden and found his Tío raking in between a row of squash plants.

“Tío Gus! Tío Gus! Tío Bruno needs your help!” Antonio shouted as Parce skidded to a halt.

His Tío set aside the rake and asked as he leaned in to listen, “Tell me what’s happening, Toni.”

Antonio did, and his Tío asked, “Did Dolores let your Papí know?”

“Yes,” Antonio replied.

His Tío nodded and started toward the back door. He stopped and said, “Toni, I’m going to need you to wait by the door. Dol probably called your Mamí too, so can you wait for her to get back and tell her what you told me?”

Antonio nodded and followed his Tío into the house. Toni and Parce went across the courtyard, but before they passed the stairs he said to Tino, “Find out what’s happening, Tino and let me know, okay?” The rat squeaked in the affirmative and ran up the stairs. Casita opened the front door, so Antonio sat nearby to wait for his Mamí.

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

Agustín took the stairs two at a time and met Félix at Bruno’s door. It was glowing very brightly, and the cuñados exchanged looks as they went into his room. Bruno was not there nor in the nearby alcove, and Agustín glanced back at the falling sand on the other side of the room and Agustín thought, oh no, and nudged Félix. They both rushed over to it, and ducked as the sand enveloped them. They pushed through and found Bruno on his knees in front of several shattered vision tablets. It had always been rare for Bruno to subject himself to creating this many visions in such a short time. The sand dome started to collapse, so they knelt in front of him and called to him, but Bruno did not respond. His eyes were darting all over the place, almost as if he were searching for an answer he was not finding.

Pepa came in and asked Félix to collect Antonio from the other room. Félix nodded, and Pepa glanced at the broken tablets as she knelt in front of her brother. Her brow furrowed, and a cloud formed as she put a gentle hand on his cheek and said, “Bruno, it’s going to be okay. We’re here to help. I know we’ll find a way through. Come back to us, hermanito.”

Bruno finally blinked and as he did an emerald tablet coalesced and dropped into the sand in front of him. He didn’t look at it, just stepped on it, causing it to crack. “I need a nap,” was all he said before allowing his sister to help him leave. Pepa looked back before she followed Bruno into the sand, her concern was clear and Agustin pushed the vision tablet pieces back together and frowned as he thought, one more complication to an already complicated problem.

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

Isabela and Tuli reached the Jimenez farm in good time, and they talked to Juanita Jimenez, the farmer’s heavily pregnant wife, for a little bit about how the crops were doing. She joined them as they headed out to the new cassava field while telling Isa what she thought the problem with the crop was. Isabela listened carefully, the goal was to see if she could just help the plants along without interrupting their normal growth, and the farmer’s wife held many answers. Juanita had come to the Encanto from her family’s cassava farm with the same group as Bubo with little else beyond the clothes on her back and a sack full of cassava cuttings. She’d met and married John Jimenez within a month of her arrival. The rumor mill had gone wild with speculation that she’d gotten pregnant just so John would have to marry her, and he didn’t really care for her at all. Juanita called to her husband, and he came in to greet them.

He smiled at his wife, and she tilted her head and smiled back, then turned and walked back to the house. Screw what the gossips in town said. Isabela recognized that look, John Jimenez loved his farm wife. He turned his attention back to her and said, “Thank you for coming, Señorita Isabela. I did as you said and cut off all the spotty leaves and burned them. Most of the plants appear to be bouncing back. I did not think cassava was so finicky.”

Isabela nodded, but did not mention that it was in fact Juanita that had told him he needed to do that. That’s why Isa made a point of speaking with her whenever she came by.

“Who is this lovely young lady with you?” John asked.

“This is Señorita Márquez, she volunteered to help me today.”

The farmer laughed, “Oh, a volunteer weeder. Good on you, Señorita.”

“Where do you need us to start?” Isabela asked.

“I’m working on that end,” he said and pointed, “If you could start on that side, hopefully, we’ll meet in the middle.”

Isabela nodded as she and Tuli walked toward the end of the field. Isabela hummed as she brushed her hands along the tops of the plants. Leaves vibrated and most deepened in color. The ones that did not were already dead and broke off. Isabela knew she could just grow the cassavas, but it was important to her that she focus on helping them be a little healthier. Trying to grow an entire field would likely knock her out for days. So, after tying up her shoes as well as her and Tuli’s skirts, she pointed out which plants needed to go, and they got to work.

Isabela was impressed, Tuli worked diligently and without complaint for the entire time. They actually caught up with John much sooner than Isabela expected. He complimented them on their hard work and asked if they wanted to stay for supper.

Isabela declined, saying she was expected to be home this evening. The farmer nodded and asked if Isa would be available the following week. Isabela nodded and wished the farmer well, and she and Tuli started back toward Casita.

“That was kinda fun,” Tuli said and skipped ahead of her. When they were halfway home, Tuli stopped as she looked up the road. From where they were, they could see the line of people coming down and Tuli went very still as she put a hand on her locket and asked, “Isabela, is it alright if I… change my clothes before my Tío comes? I want to stay, and I think I’ll just make him angry... if he sees me... like this. Then we’ll have a fight and I’ll end up... ”

Isabela noticed Tuli’s look of almost panic as she took her hand. “If that’s what you want to do, of course. You know your Tío better than anyone. It’ll all work out Tuli.”

“How can you be sure?” Tuli asked, her other hand firmly grasping her locket.

“You know, I just am,” Isabela said and lifted Tuli’s chin.

Tuli smiled then kissed the locket. She looked back up the road and whispered to the people in the distance, “Eu acredito em você, Bubo.”

“Tuli what language was that? I know it’s not French.”

“Oh, it’s Portuguese, I learned some of it from my abuela and Bubo. He used to live in Brazil. That’s where he came from before he went to live with our abuelos.”

So that was the source of his accent. It hadn’t occurred to Isa that Bubo’s parents might not be around. She wondered how old he’d been when he came to Colombia. Maybe she’d ask later… maybe that was too personal for a first date… maybe she could ask Tuli. Isabela dismissed that idea since it was not necessarily something Tuli would know. Isa let out a yelp when she stubbed her toe. She looked down to realize her shoes were, once again, missing. She quickly reached behind herself and sighed with relief when she found they were hanging on her belt. She and Tuli left the path and walked on the soft grass. Isa stopped as she brushed at the dirt she’d gotten on her clothes, it didn’t help. Tuli looked down at her own skirt and wiggled her toes, “Weeding sure does get you dirty.”

“Yeah, but it’s so satisfying to yank those troublemakers out of the ground,” Isabela said and laughed as she pretended to violently pull an imaginary weed. Both she and Tuli took a step back as a large oak tree sprouted and rapidly grew near the edge of the forest. It was almost as large as the one in the plaza.

Tuli whispered, “Oh my gosh, do you think that’s a guardian tree… I’ve never thought I see one get born before… I wonder who it’s for… ”

Isa wondered what Tuli was talking about but put her hands firmly at her sides. No more using her gift today if she actually wanted to go on that date, that was for sure, and asked, “Tuli, why would you call that ...?” Isabela realized that Tuli was gone. She was running toward the tree. Isabela followed and stopped with Tuli in front of it. Tuli ran her hand over the bark as she stared at the tree with a hopeful smile on her face. Isabela decided it was a question that could be answered later as she too looked up into the branches. The tree was still filling out as its leaves were still unfurling near the top. She put a hand on it and heard quite plainly ‘anselmo’. Startled, Isa pulled her hand back. Tuli was now hugging the tree and whispering something that almost sounded like a prayer. Isa wiggled the fingers of the hand she’d touched the tree with. They were tingling, and she thought, that’s just weird, and she decided she would figure that out another time. She poked Tuli’s arm and said, “Come on, let’s get cleaned up before Bubo and your Tío get back.” Tuli nodded and reluctantly left the tree behind to follow Isabela toward Casita.

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

Mirabel sighed as she watched the road ahead. She knew they were only a few kilometers out of town now. Luisa was again talking to Osvaldo about his donkey, and Camilo had told her to stay put when he jumped off the cart. Still, he’d sat with her for the past two hours, telling her the most random jokes. He was now walking with Old Arturo, who was telling him something that made Camilo glance over at the other cart where Señora Vargas was sitting. She had her head together with the man she’d noticed Camilo speaking to earlier.

The cart bounced when they hit a stone in the road hard enough that Mirabel had to adjust her glasses. The kids in the cart all squealed and were giggling. Mirabel looked back and saw that Bubo was now awake. He looked at the seat beside her, and she motioned for him to join her.

“Feel better?” Mirabel asked as Bubo climbed up.

“Yes, didn’t realize I was that tired,” Bubo said as he rubbed his knees rather nervously. He was quiet for a time, then looked at her and said, “Thank you, Mirabel.”

“For what? I didn’t actually do anything,” Mirabel said.

Bubo shook his head and said, “You underestimate yourself, Mirabel Madrigal. You have an unusually calming presence about you. You also, once again, stopped me from doing something incredibly foolish, and I’m sure my outburst didn’t help Tuli’s situation.”

“I don’t know, Bubo. You care a great deal for your prima and throw a little personal guilt and exhaustion into the mix and voilà, instant anger.”

“Ugh, I feel so stupid. I see now why your Mamá asked that I bring you and your sister along on this journey.”

“My Mamá?” Mirabel was perplexed, then remembered her attitude when she was told she wasn’t going with her mother and sisters to retrieve the folks on the mountain. She thought she’d hid her disappointment better. Clearly she did not, but maybe that was not a bad thing. Too much of what had happened before the breaking was because no one was willing to let certain parts of themselves show.

“She said you wanted to help. You did, so again, thank you,” Bubo said, then fell silent for a while. He was looking down the road. You could just make out the tops of the houses in town from here. Mirabel noticed the tree line had changed since this morning. There was another great tree poking above it. It was large enough that you couldn’t see Casita from here anymore. Isabela must be responsible for that, she thought. But why grow it there? She looked over and noticed Bubo was, once again, rubbing his knees and he said, “I’m not sure how I’m going to talk to my Tío about this rationally. We’ve already had arguments in the past regarding him calling Tuli, Paola. Now add into that the other and… ”

“I’m no expert, but maybe you should try to see the situation from your Tío’s perspective. He obviously cares what happens to the both of you. Who’s to say what’s motivating him if you don’t ask.”

“While I see your point, I’ll be honest, I am not convinced that will be effective.”

“Well, just give it some thought, Bubo. People can be surprising. So, did Mariano fill you in as to what you’re doing tonight?”

“No, but as long as I’m sitting here, can you give me something to talk to your sister about... besides insects, that is.”

“Well, Isa loves music and dancing. She plays the piano and sings really good too. When I was little, she would take me ‘flying’. She was an awesome big sister then.” Mirabel realized what she’d said and glanced at Bubo. He hopefully missed that, so started hurriedly naming random Isa likes. “Ummm, she likes to experiment with recipes... She’s actually really good at cooking, but doesn’t want anyone to know that. She likes her coffee with milk. She thinks everyone should love cacti. She wants a cat, either striped or maybe a black one. She thinks dogs smell funny, and she doesn’t like when they dig up plants. She used to have potatoes in her room that she would talk to and dress up in clothes...” Bubo tilted his head, and Mirabel paused and cleared her throat. “Sorry, just forget I said that.”

Bubo chuckled as he nodded and said, “É engraçado, I promise I didn’t hear a thing.”

Mirabel tilted her head and asked, “Bubo, you speak Portuguese?”

“Yes, I was born in Brasil. I only learned Spanish when I came to Colombia.”

“Oh, how did you come to be living here?” There was a pause and Mirabel thought maybe that was an uncomfortable question and added, “Sorry, I don’t mean to be nosy.”

“No, no, it’s alright. Just something I’ve not thought about for a long time,” Bubo said, then looked off toward the town. Though Mirabel was curious, she just sat and waited for Bubo to find his words and he asked, “Do you know what a bus is?”

Mirabel shook her head then remembered seeing a picture of one in a magazine that one of the newcomers had brought, so she said, “I’ve seen a picture. They look a bit frightening.”

Bubo shrugged. “Not really. Anyway, buses are usually pretty safe, and you can move quickly from one city to another. When I was about eight years old, my parents and I went on a bus trip to Brasile’s capital, Manaus. Spent the day looking at all the historical buildings. Overall, it was a good day, the time got away from us, and we ended up boarding the last bus back to our town very late. I’m not completely sure what happened because I fell asleep pretty quickly once we were on the road. I woke up in the hospital. I knew something wasn’t right because my abuelos were there instead of my parents. I was told that the weather had turned bad, there was an accident and that both of my parents were killed. I survived, but only just. There were a lot of things I had to relearn, like how to walk, feed myself, it’s a long list. Since I did not have any relatives in São Joaquim, where we lived, I came to live with my Abuelos in Aracataca once I was released from the hospital. My Tío was already living there on and off, and he helped me get back on my feet, so to speak.”

“I’m sorry about your parents, Bubo.”

“Thank you, I think my only regret is that I’ve never been able to visit their graves. Someday though.”

Mirabel nodded and realized they were almost to the town plaza and could see her Abuela and Mama, along with the rest of the town council, waiting to greet them. Camilo came up to them and said, “Hey, Bubo, your Tío was asking for you.”

Bubo nodded and hopped down from the cart and began walking toward the back of the group. Camilo climbed up and plopped into the seat next to her. He elbowed her twice and started talking without looking at her. Camilo used to do this when they were little, and they were busy planning some pointless prank. It was always more fun to do that in a conspiratorial way. No jokes this time though, he was instead giving her a run-down of all the things he noticed happening with the new group. It felt weird that her primo felt he needed to do that. But again she realized that she really did need to know these things. Most concerning was José’s warning that they not share extra information with Señora Vargas or her son Miguel. She could see that Luisa was also paying attention and Mirabel glanced back and saw that most of the kids were asleep, so she wasn’t overly concerned they were listening. Camilo wondered then how Abuela was going to explain the magic to these people. Mirabel looked over at Casita and smiled when she noticed the house waving. She waved back and thought, It’ll all work out. I just know it.

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

Bubo joined his Tío, and his uncle introduced him to the others of his original group that had joined him on his search. A few of them Bubo knew since they were from the same area as his abuelos. He nodded to each and decided to let his Tío know about the magic and what to expect. His Abuela had often told them stories about the fantastical things that could only happen in Columbia and after seeing the magic of the Encanto, Bubo believed every one of them. His uncle was even more so. Though he had studied to be a lawyer, he’d given that up to be a journalist and writer. He was always looking for stories to explore and Bubo had enjoyed all of his published works, so he said as they walked, “Tío, there’s a story attached to this place and the people that live here that I want to tell you before we get there. So you know what to expect.”

His Tío was clearly intrigued because he slowed a little and let the group move ahead without them and said, “Okay Bubo, let’s have it then.”

Bubo then told him what he knew of what had happened here over fifty years ago at the beginning of the thousand days war. That the leader of the town, Doña Alma Madrigal, received a miracle after the death of her husband and father of their newborn triplets. It was this event that was the impetus that ultimately protected and saved the original inhabitants from the marauders that ransacked theirs and other nearby villages. He told him about La Candela and Casita, the living house that helped look after and protect the Madrigal family. When he got to the part regarding the Madrigal family Gifts, he paused and his Tío said, “You can’t stop now, Bubo.”

“Sorry, I’m just trying to find the best way to describe what came next,” Bubo said, then one by one told him about each of the family’s Gifts as described to him by Mariano.

“You left one out,” his Tío said. “What Gift does Señorita Mirabel have?”

“Mirabel does not have a magical Gift,” Bubo said.

“How unusual. You’re sure?”

“Yes, she told me so herself,” Bubo replied.

His Tío nodded and said, “You look as though there is more to this story to tell.”

Bubo nodded and said, “Yes. When I arrived here, almost a year ago now, Casita had fallen and there were no magical Gifts.”

“But you didn’t use past tense when you were describing them.”

“That’s where Mirabel comes into it. After La Candela went out and the original Casita fell, a new Casita was built for the family by the townsfolk. Mariano said it was quite the thing to see because on the day they were to move back in, the family gave Mirabel the very last piece of it to put in place. A doorknob to be precise. When she did, Mariano said a new miracle was born and Casita and the Gifts returned.”

“You did not see any of that?”

“No, at that time I was patrolling the area near the river at that time. I found out about it when I came into town to resupply.”

“You didn’t go look?”

“Tío, I was responsible for a patrol, and only in town for a day before I headed back out.”

“Right, so Mirabel is now the... the miracle bringer?”

“She is an extraordinary young woman. I'm guessing she’ll lead this town one day.”

“I think I would like to see this Casita.”

“It’s likely you will, since Tuli is staying at the Madrigal home.”

As they crested the final hill, Bubo’s Tío put a hand on his shoulder, bringing Bubo to a halt. Only one of his uncle’s companions noticed they’d stopped. That one just nodded and continued on. Bubo was now feeling very nervous.

“Now that you’re a little more rested, I need to ask Bubo, honestly, do you believe Tuli when he tells you he’s a girl?”

Bubo strangely did not feel he needed to hesitate and said, “Yes, at her core she has the soul of a girl.”

“But don’t you see how much more difficult Tuli’s life will be if we allow them to continue with this?”

“Her life is already painfully difficult, to the point that she fled our family with a person of questionable character. She’s already paid a high enough price for that mistake. Honestly, do you not see how alone and isolated she already is? She doesn’t want to go back to that. Who would? I’ll say it again, I accept that Tuli is exactly who she believes herself to be. She wants to remain in the Encanto, make it her home. Also, the Madrigals are all aware that Tuli is not physically a girl, and they do not have an issue with that. In fact, Doña Madrigal said Tuli would be welcome to stay... if you gave her permission to do so and if I agreed to stay as well.”

“And do you?”

“Yes. I’ve grown fond of the people here. Made some good friends. Met a nice girl.”

“What about school?”

“I’ll find time for that one day.”

“I do not believe that.”

“Said my almost lawyer Tío.”

His Tío smiled and said, “Good answer, Bubo. And if I take Tuli back to Bogotá?”

Bubo sighed and said, “Then this was a pointless conversation because I do not believe she would be able to bear it. We will lose her forever the next time she runs, and you know that she will,” Bubo said “Tío, when I found out yesterday just what Tuli had been through, I was ready to go out and do something I would never be able to take back. But I was reminded that of all the places Tuli could have ended up, she ended up here where her family is. Tuli’s found the sanctuary she’s been searching for since her mother was killed, and her father went missing. This place where she can be who she was meant to be. This place where miraculous things happen daily.”

His Tío did not answer, so Bubo started down the hill. He paused and turned back when his Tío said, “I can’t make any promises, Bubo, but I will consider what you’ve said.”

“Thank you, Tío,” Bubo said with a small smile, “That’s all I can ask for.”

Notes:

If you were wondering: ‘No usaré mi super jaguar volador para abalanzarme sobre Abuela.’ translates to: I won't use my flying super jaguar to pounce on Grandma Kids

Next Chapter... Hopefully nearby?

Last Chapter:

[darkestrellar]

gladiolus :   describe a moment from your muse’s life that they will never forget . // hydrangea :   how much does your muse value communication in their relationships with others ?are they prone to being misunderstood ?

Botanical headcanon prompts

Gladiolus — Describe a moment from your muse's life that they will never forget.

Normally the go-to answer for this is his first exposure to the Shadow Crystal, but that's slightly different in fandomless verse and I haven't got all the details sorted in my head, so I'll try something else.

A moment Svern remembers well is when he first actively reacted against his cousin (who does not technically have a set name yet, but for some reason I keep referring to him in my head as Luke, so let's call him that). Luke is a few years older than Svern (or Sylvester then), and was the biggest single source of bullying for Svern's yet-unmasked Issues.

Luke didn't like Sylvester because Sylvester was a little weirdo who never talked to you unless he had a reason (which usually meant correcting you for something or just being obnoxiously Smart and Better than you), who was never happy, was never upset, talked in a weird monotone voice always and also was unfairly good at everything.

There is also an unfortunate thing that happens when you're known for not reacting to anything ever, and that is if you hang out with the wrong kind of kids, they see you as a curious thing to poke and prod.

Svern had been tolerating this kind of poking and prodding, verbal and physical teasing, for years, and over years it just got worse. For a long time the only way he reacted was passively: ignore, turn away, leave. Since Svern is not a very reactive person, and back then was very bad at expressing himself, he could put up with a lot, seemingly, without being bothered (which only fed into it getting worse). When he did get bothered enough to either leave or (stoically) tell Luke to stop, Luke took this as a victory as well and made a big deal of how the emotionless weirdo did get annoyed after all. Svern spent years of not reacting much beyond that and quietly building up resentment toward not only Luke, but other people who weren't quite so obviously bad about it but still were in their own ways.

So, Svern will always remember when that finally hit the point where he did feel recognisably, truly angry, and took an active reaction against Luke.

It was a year or two after he had started masking successfully, which contributed, as Luke both had used this as another way to try and get under Svern's skin (look who's gotten so good at pretending, but we both know you're a little liar, so you're even creepier than you were before) and Svern had now learned how to act in ways that he wouldn't have beforehand. Unfortunately this also marked the point where they both got a lot more malicious in their behaviour toward each other in general.

Hydrangea — How much does your muse value communication in their relationships with others? Are they prone to being misunderstood?

Svern delights in leaving others hanging and not being clear with his intentions, leading them along etc., so I would say his value of communication in interpersonal relationships is pretty low. Then again, a lot of this stems from the fact that he is constantly maintaining a certain distance from everyone else, lack of communication feeds that distance, and it's very hard for relationships with him to go beyond a certain depth (the depth where he would start properly caring about how this communication or lack thereof affects the other person more).

He is aware that good communication is valuable to relationships, and he knows how to achieve it, he just doesn't do so most of the time.

Prone to being misunderstood? Yes, again with the caveat that he could easily make himself less misunderstood, but at least half of the reason he's misunderstood is on purpose. If he's not actively being confusing, he's at least playing into other people's uncertain views of him.

Considering so much of him hinges on nobody really knowing what's up with him, and he specifically likes it that way, he's not going to be winning any awards in clear communications anytime soon.

[repressededwardianghost]

I want to start off this by saying that I completely agree that the Cat King is a very well written and well acted, complex character. He’s a really good minor antagonist (in the way that he keeps the boys in port townsend not in a way that he’s evil) and is pivotal to Edwins gay awakening and overall character development.

I also want to be VERY clear that this isnt meant as an attack on anyone elses posts or opinions and isnt me trying to shame anyone who does like their dynamic. If you like them cool, they just aren’t for me and I thought id explain why. :))

WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY:

I really dislike the way people treat it like you have to like him because hes complex or like they’re aren’t any valid reasons to dislike him. If he is your favorite character or you really like him, cool! If you dislike him, also cool! Both can be valid at the same time! Complex characters are nuanced meaning people will usually draw different conclusions about them and that makes them interesting! I just really dislike the way I see people dismiss anyone he dislikes the cat king and edwins relationship by saying ‘that they just misunderstood his character’ or ‘that they just hated him getting in the way of payneland’

I like the cat king as a character: hes fun and complicated and morally grey and acts just like a cat in human form! That being said I dont love his realtionship woth Edwin, it always made me feel a little uncomfortable. The age gap is part of it but definitely not the biggest thing. I know edwin is like over 70 years old supernaturally speaking but I feel like he acts and thinks like a teenager a lot so it feels a bit like a weird grey area to me. He also is supposed to LOOK like a teen (ignoring the actors ages obviously) which makes the cat king being physically attracted to edwin a little icky as well. But all in all I can get over the age gap.

My problem is the binds of their relationship. Edwin is trapped in port townsend after Charles has just possessed Ester and possibly alerted the afterlife to their locations. Theyre also trapped in the same town as said very angry witch. And the first thing the cat king offers for payment is sex. I think i would feel differently about the exchange if he had offered counting cats first, and sex after as an easier option after. The task of counting all the cats in port townsend, while it wasnt an impossible task, always sort of felt like pressure to me if that makes any sense. Sort of like ‘well there is always a faster option, given that your on a time crunch’. (In all fairness that point could be a personal reading of it so im not putting a lot of emphasis on it, just wanted to mention it) and there is just SUCH a power imbalance between the two.

I also feel like at times the cat king does push the boundaries of consent. Not in a big way, but hes very touchy with Edwin and the scene with him turning into Monty and Charles and coming onto Edwin always felt creepy to me. Now an important point to mention here is that Edwin does find the cat king attractive. That is very obvious and important in the show. HOWEVER it seems equally obvious that he is uncomfortable with their relationship. Him finding the cat king attractive doesnt mean he wants him, it just makes his feelings about him more complicated and confusing. When Niko asks if he wants to kiss the cat king and he says definitely not, i dont think hes lying. He finds him physically attractive yes but thats it.

I find that (in my opinion) people romanticize their relationship/completely forgive the cat kings creepier traits because he’s in love with edwin. But I don’t think it excuses the way he acts towards him. He is pressuring edwin and flirting aggressively with him despite being told multiple times by edwin that he is not intrested in him.

OKAY. This ended up being a way longer rant than it was went to be but…oh well. My main point is just that their relationship is really complicated and morally grey. Some people will like it and some peole won’t and neither are wrong because it isn’t black and white. People disliking your favorite characters/ship doesnt mean they are dumb or dont understand it, it just means they dont like it. Just like on the other side nothing is wrong with people who like a character/ship you dislike or find icky! Both readings can be valid at the same time! The cat king is a very fun, nuanced, trickster character and you can appreciate that whether you like him or dont. At least thats my two sense on the matter

How about we stop interpreting the Cat King into something he is not and start listening to Lukas Gage about his own character instead?

Because it's genuinely concerning how some people view him, and at this point, I am starting to believe you people are so hostile towards him because he disrupts Painland, which he doesn't since Edwin can very much like two people at the same time (most people in real life do).

Lukas also sees this shit... It's obvious he loves this character and worked very hard to make him complex and three-dimensional, only for people to misunderstand him completely and start treating him horribly, which I'm sorry but it's completely bullshit.

So less "I don't like him because he makes me feel icky for no apparent reason" and more media comprehension.

Gif belongs to @isabellaofparma 🪷🩷

[domi-scu]

Lake Sevan

Since our train plan didn't work out, the only plan was to figure things out in the morning. Thankfully none of that was on me as Josefa found a bus from the city centre that was surprisingly easy to find as I arrived first and got out of the taxi right next to the bus with the correct number. And when I say bus, I mean a minivan. I figured I’d ask about the price etc while waiting for him so I checked with the driver if he’s going to Sevan.

He nodded but lead me over to another van that was already moving and said it’s that one. Odd- we still had 15min before it was meant to leave so I asked if it’s the one leaving at 11 to which he explained that no, it’s leaving right now. Ummm, no sir, I’m still waiting for a friend! Apparently that was ok and the van would wait- good thing no one is too bothered about the correct schedule around here I guess?

To other passengers’ relief, Josafa arrived not 10 minutes later and we were on our way. I ended up sitting backwards facing a crowd of people (always fun), and him in the front. Both of us without seat belts- obviously. No one else from his band joined us because as it turns out, Ruben returned really late last night when everyone was already asleep and he got locked out. Eli felt bad so she stayed behind to keep him company whenever he eventually woke up after he spent half his night looking for a hostel.

The ’bus’ was certainly an experience. The poor thing struggled going up the first hill on the motorway- always a good sign when you’re travelling to a town with altitude of 2000m above sea level. The guy had a plan though because he was then using the momentum of going down a hill to get up the next one and lemme tell you... Going down 120km/h in a van where you’re not entirely sure if the breaks work is interesting. The views were great though and unlike in the taxis, I did not get any motion sickness and there was no need for the little plastic bag I packed with me ‘just in case’!

Sevan seemed to be just a tiny town with no much happening so we stopped at a shop to get some snacks and grabbed a taxi to the lake. The driver had a seat belt and I really enjoyed seeing how he made use of it. Firstly, he pulled it across himself and just held it there while we drove past the police. Secondly, lemme just explain that there are places where people can make U turns on motorways around here. A little unnerving when you’re not used to it but they don’t seem to get busy enough to be too concerning. But it was amusing to see the driver pull the seat belt across him again while making the U turn- certainly not because of the police this time because there was none so my only assumption is that it was perhaps for safety?? Not sure how since he didn’t actually put it on properly but A for effort I guess??

Our first steps lead to the monastery on the hill which had a great view of the massive, and I mean MASSIVE lake. I would have loved to see more parts of it because this place felt like the main ‘touristy’ spot so I’m sure other spots are even more beautiful. I was a much bigger fan of the creepier little room in the monastery rather than what seemed to be the ‘main’ one- go figure.. On the way down, I managed to grab some souvenirs for Alex and my parents- who knew finding a damn bell for my mum would be so much work! We topped it off with a freshly squeezed pomegranate juice which was great but so sour and we definitely got ripped off on the price but hey, how often do I get this kind of thing at home?

Josefa really wanted to go for a swim and while I wasn’t that keen (the water was cold), I at least rolled up my trousers and stood in the water sipping on my juice while he did his thing. While taking a little walk after, I realised this place definitely felt like a holiday destination with a few hotels around but it was also giving an odd ‘place by the lake where I used to go with my grandparents as a kid’ vibe. Like very low budget and… well… very post-soviet, no other way to explain it. It was also giving a really weird sort of nostalgia which was unexpected.

We walked all the way to some sort of parking lot (and I think bus stop?) and agreed it was a good time to get a taxi back to Sevan and start figuring out our way back to Yerevan. The first taxi we called refused to take us because it didn’t make him enough money but thankfully, the second one was fine. He dropped us off right next to a bus to Yerevan which was about to leave. Are we really that lucky? I’ll take it! Unlike the one in the morning, this one was pretty much empty and the drive felt much quicker, with the views just as good as they were on the way there.

We parted way after getting off as we both needed to get ready for another round of events tonight. I was gonna go back to the hotel but ended up having lunch in town instead. And man, how did they make the tomatoes taste so good? Seriously… Damn tomatoes on a pasta. I don’t think I’ve eaten a meal I didn’t like around here. To keep it going, I also stopped at a tiramisu place (with 12 kinds of tiramisu!) and got the pistachio one.

Tonight’s panel was just a street over from the Cascade which I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing yet so I stopped by it on the way there. And well, since I’m already here, I might as well take the stairs all the way up, right? It didn’t look all that bad. I started regretting my life choices around halfway up but I was already committed and despite the heat, I made it up. My legs certainly suffered a lot more on the way down- google says there is around 500 steps and this combined with the walk up a hill to the monastery earlier, it added up to 66 floors according to my watch. My poor poor calves.

I partially recovered during the panel which was not relevant to my current job but interesting nonetheless- I need to go through the materials that Simon shared as some will probably come in handy even to me at some point. It was really interesting to hear Stefan’s point of view. He recently left Russia and has now been organising festivals/ showcases in Croatia. I did appreciate the point he made about considering your morals when asking for funding as an artist (or just anyone working in music). He linked it to the fact that he never took anything from the Russian government because what they have done in Ukraine has been coming for a while and he did not want to be associated with them. Lot of respect, man.

We then headed back to the Cascade for an open air concert of Marine Manasian I did not see the stage in the first instance so I just sat at the bottom of Cascade thinking that someone will eventually show up. Until Angela (from Dailo) joined me a little later on- turns out she also didn’t know where exactly we were going. We tried walking into the building which was kind of… inside? of Cascade and took an escalator up. Excuse me- it would’ve been nice to know there was an escalator when I was walking up the damn thing in 35°C.

About halfway up I realised that Alex (guy working for the event) mentioned it’s gonna be at the bottom so we must be going the wrong way. We walked out and took the stairs down (my poor, poor legs…) just as the music started and it became much easier to find. Marine was brilliant and so much fun! It started raining towards the end of her set (along with some lightning) so one of the fans got on the stage with her to hold an umbrella over her laptop and the weather didn’t deter anyone from staying until the end.

Just as I was walking away, I noticed Ruzanna, Eli, Ruben and Angela in a restaurant around the corner so I joined them and ordered an iced tea. Good thing I did because we were gonna walk to the next venue but by the time I finished my drink, it started raining like crazy. And while the streets flooded so that they resembled a river and the lightning was loud and all over the place, I was loving every damn minute of it. It was still nice and warm enough that we could sit on the terrace (although further away from the edges to avoid an unwanted shower). It did take a good while to get a taxi after that as everyone in the city tried to get one and the traffic went standstill in places due to the flooding. When we finally got one, it sure felt like we were on the boat with how high the water was. The sight of the drains on the street turning into (smelly) fountains was also something to behold.

We watched the last gig of the day and with Ruben and Eli wanting to call it a night, I decided to take a short walk with them before heading back to the hotel. We walked through couple of streets that have lost power and the (kind of) surprising thing was how safe it still felt. To the point that one of the little stalls selling flowers left all their stuff out overnight because I assume people wouldn’t steal it? London could never.