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Shit-reposteršŸŒŒ

@arsonistofchaos

Just a French nobody lost in maaaaany fandoms (French)
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So apparently Ask a Mortician has gotten told this video ā€œviolates community guidelinesā€ for showing ā€œnon-graphic dead bodies without educational intent,ā€ ā€œexcessive law enforcement without educational intent,ā€ and ā€œblood and gore.ā€ (Spoiler: none of those things happened.)

Itā€™s a documentary on a disaster you may never have heard of, the USS Eastland. Itā€™s done with incredible quality, research, and heart, and itā€™s all but been delisted. YouTube is refusing to give answers as to why. (I have my suspicions, which are ā€œshe came down pretty hard on a shitty corporation in this video and it hit just a liiiiittle close to home.ā€)

Caitlin has asked that if viewers enjoyed the documentary or found it helpful, we share it directly with others. So I am here. Yā€™all know how important history is to me.

Make this important to you too.

This link pops up as age-restricted and what appears to be a link to YouTube in the message body does not work. However clicking on the little teeny "play" icon in the lower right corner *does* work. Reblogging because I like history and because censorship reeeally pisses me off.

What the FUCK.

Just to be clear, I got the link by going directly to her channel on the YT app, clicking the video, and using the ā€œshareā€ button. There should not be any shady link bullshit going on here. That is entirely YouTube.

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chombatme

tw// everything tbh

hey dear people, i'm an iranian girl. i want to talk about life in iran, so you can gain some perspective and understand what we're going through.

from the age of seven we have to wear a hijab to attend school, we have to study the quran and islam. we can't go to the same school with amab people. we can't criticize the government or talk about the leader and these are considered crime in iran. there is awful awful oppression against minorities. they treat followers of other religions so badly, there aren't enough resources for them to study their own religion. one minority group that they treat so badly are followers of Baha'i religion. some years after the islamic revolution they ex3cuted 10 bahaii women, one of them was Mona Mahmoudnejad who was 17 years old. a few months ago they ruined a bahaii neighborhood, also they can't go to work or have insurance. they also ex3cute atheists.

other than religious oppression there is gender inequality. afab people are considered half a person, so their income, their testimony and their blo0d money are less than an amab person. also there are laws about compulsory hijab. (i just want to mention that amab people have it bad too, there is compulsory military service and they can't attend universities if they don't do military service).

and let's talk about queer rights. you probably know what they do to gay people. a month ago they wanted to ex3cute two queer rights activists. we don't know what happened because they probably can't have a lawyer. people often think that being a trans person is easy in iran because you can have surgery covered by insurance. unfortunately i don't know enough about the surgery but i've heard that it's still really expensive for an average person. other than that they don't consider non-binary people as trans and they force gay people(amab people mostly) to transition. something that i want to mention is the role of compulsory hijab in dysphoria.

lastly i want to talk about political groups. they arrest people for political beliefs and there are literally thousands of people in the prisons because of that. everyday i hear that some person is arrested for saying that they don't want the government.

i've faced some of these oppressions and i struggle with religious trauma and i'm only 16!!! so i want people to try to raise awareness and help us overcome the government. right now cellular network has been shut down and i can only use wifi, but they cut off the wifi in big cities. they are kĀ”lling people in the protests. they shot Amir Fuladi, a 15 yo boy. you can find more information on twitter, search the hashtags #Ł…Ł‡Ų³Ų§_Ų§Ł…ŪŒŁ†ŪŒ / #MahsaAmini / #IranProtests / #OpIran

if you have any questions please feel free to ask <3

Women, Life, Freedom

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reblogged

Vriska: "Once upon a time, there was a lovely princess. 8ut she had an enchantment upon her of a fearful sort, which could only 8e 8roken 8y love's first kiss. She was locked away in a castle, Felted 8y a terri8le fire-8reathing Terezi. Many 8rave knights had attempted to free her from the dreadful prison, 8ut none prevailed. she w8ed in Terezi's keep, in the highest room of the tallest tower, for her true love and true love's first kiss." Vriska, laughing: Like that's ever gonna happen. Vriska: What a load of-- Vriska: goes a8out her d8y while villagers plan to kill her Vriska, after going about her day: 8elches Villagers: go! go! Dave: think it's in there? all right! let's get it! Roxy: whoa!!! hold on! do u no what that thing could do to u? Jake: Yeah, it'll grind your bones for its bread! Vriska, laughing: Yeah, well, actually, that would 8e a cheru8. Now, trolls-- they're much worse. They'll make a suit from your freshly peeled skin. Dave: no! Vriska: They'll sh8ve your liver! Squeeze the jelly from your eyes! Vriska: Actually, it's quite good on toast. Dave, waving a torch: back! back, bitch! back! i warn ya! Vriska: licks her fingers and snuffs the fl8me Dave: rightā€¦ Vriska: roaring Dave, Roxy, and Jake: screaming in terror Vriska: more roaring Vriska: continues roaring Dave, Roxy, and Jake: continues screaming Vriska, whispering: This is the part where you run awaaaaaaaay. Dave, Roxy, and Jake: do just that while screaming for their life Vriska, laughing: And st8y out! Vriska, picking up their poster: "Wanted. Weirdo sci-fi creatures." Vriska: siiiiiiiighs

Felt: All right. this one's full. take it away! Felt 2: Move it along. Come on. Get up! Equius: D-> Ne%t! Felt 3: Give me that broom! your flying days are over, witch. Equius: D-> Now that's 20 pieces of silver for the witch. Ne%t. Felt 4: Get up! Equius: D-> Twenty pieces. Felt 5: Come on! Felt 6: Sit down there! Keep quiet! Nepeta, crying: :((< this cage is too small! John: Please, don't turn me in. i'll never be stubborn again. i can change. please! give me another chance! Jane: oh, shut up! John: oh! Equius: D-> ne%t! what have you got? Dirk: This little metal puppet. Lil Hal: I'm not a puppet. I'm a real dude. Equius: D-> five shillings for the possessed toy. take it away. Lil Hal: Father, please! Don't let them do this! Equius: D-> Ne%t. Lil Hal: Help me! Equius: D-> What have you got? Jane: Well, I've got a talking windsock. Equius: D-> Right. well, that's good for ten shillings, if you can prove it. Jane: Oh, go ahead, little fella. Equius: D-> Well? Jane: Oh, oh, he's just-- he's just a little nervous. He's really quite a chatterbox. talk, you boneheaded dolt-- Equius: D-> That's it. i've heard enough. Felt! Jane: No, no, he talks! He does! Jane, moving Johnā€™s lips: I can talk. I love to talk! I'm the talkingest damn thing you ever saw! Equius: D-> Get her out of my sight. Jane: No, no! I swear. oh! he can talk! Felt: take Jane away, kicking and screaming Jane: kicks a fairy, which lands on John John, now flying: *gasps* Hey, i can fly! Rufioh: he can fly! Mituna: H3 C4N FLLY! Equius: D-> he can talk! John: Ha, ha! that's right, fool! now i'm a flying, talking windsock guy! you might have seen a housefly, maybe even a superfly, but i bet you ain't never seen a John fly. ha, ha! Uh-oh. John: crashes Equius: D-> Seize him! Felt 7: after him! he's getting away! grunts, gasps Felt 8: get him! this way! turn! Everyone: bumps into Vriska Equius: D-> You there, cerulean! Vriska: aye? Equius: D-> By the order of Lord Eridan, I am authorized to place you both under arrest, and transport you to a designated... resettlement.... facility........ Vriska: oh, really? you and what army? Equius, now alone: D-> *gasps, whimpering, and ultimately runs away*

John, chuckling: Can i say somethin' to you? listen, you was really, really somethin' back there. incredible! Vriska: are you talkin' to-- me? John: *disappears, then reappears* Vriska: whoa! John: Yes, i was talkin' to you. can i tell you that you was great back there? those Felts! they thought they was all of that. then you showed up, then bam! they was trippin' over themselves like babies in the woods. that really made me feel good to see that. Vriska: oh, that's gr8. really. John: Man, it's good to be free. Vriska: Now, why don't you go cele8r8 your freedom with your own friends? hmm? John: But, uh, i don't have any friends. and i'm not goin' out there by myself. hey, wait a minute! i got a great idea! i'll stick with you. you're a mean, green, fightin' machine. together we'll scare the spit out of anybody that crosses us. Vriska: *8itches, loudly* John: Oh, wow! that was really scary. if you don't mind me sayin', if that don't work, your breath certainly will get the job done, 'cause you definitely need some tic tacs or something, 'cause your breath stinks! girl, you almost burned the hair outta my nose, just like the time-- Vriska: *covers his mouth* John: *mumbling* Vriska: *uncovers his mouth* John: -then i ate some rotten berries. i had strong gasses eking out of my butt that day. Vriska: Whyyyyyyyy, are you following me???????? John: I'll tell you why. John, singing: 'Cause i'm all alone. John, singing more: There's no one here beside me, John, continuing to sing: My problems have all gone, there's no one to deride me. John, really getting into it: But you gotta have friends! Vriska: Stop singing! it's no wonder you don't have any friends. John: Wow. only a true friend would be that cruelly honest. Vriska: Listen, little human. take a look at me. what am i? John: uh-- really tall? Vriska: No! i'm a bitchy troll. you know, "gra8 your torch and pitchforks." Vriska: doesn't that 8other you? John: Nope. Vriska: really? John: Really really. Vriska: oh. John: Man, i like you. what's your name? Vriska: uh, vriska. John: Vriska? well, you know what i like about you, Vriska? you got that kind of i-don't-care-what-nobody-thinks-of-me thing. i like that. i respect that, Vriska. you all right. whoo! look at that. John, coming up to Vriskaā€™s hive: Who'd want to live in a place like that? Vriska: that, would 8e my home. John: Oh! and it is lovely! just beautiful. you are quite a decorator. it's amazing what you've done with such a modest budget John: I like that boulder. that is a nice boulder. John: ā€¦. I guess you don't entertain much, do you? Vriska: i like my privacy. John: You know, i do too. that's another thing we have in common. like, i hate it when you got somebody in your face. you're trying to give them a hint, and they won't leave. there's that awkward silence, you know. Vriska: *awkwardly silent* John: Can i stay with you? Vriska: uh, what? John: Can I stay with you? please? Vriska: of course! John:Really? Vriska: no. John: Please! i don't wanna go back there! you don't know what it's like to be considered a freak. John: Well, maybe you do. but, that's why we gotta stick together! you gotta let me stay! please! please! Vriska: okay! okay! 8ut one night only. John: Ah! thank you! Vriska: what are you-- no. no. John: This is gonna be fun! we can stay up late, swappin' manly stories, and in the mornin', i'm makin' waffles. Vriska: ugh! John: Where do, uh, i sleep? Vriska: outside! John: Oh, well, i guess that's cool. i mean, i don't know you, and you don't know me, i guess outside is best. John: *sniffles* John: Here i go. good night. John, sighing: I mean, i do like the outdoors. i'm a human. i was born outside. i'll just be sitting by myself. outside, i guess. you know. by myself. Outside. John, singing but sad this time: I'm all alone, there's no one here beside me.

Vriska: *sighs* *wood creaking* Vriska, annoyed: i thought i told you to st8y outside? John: i am outside! clattering clattering Aradia: well every0ne, it's a far cry fr0m the farm, but what choice d0 we have 0-0? Sollux: iit'2 not home, but iit'll do ju2t fine. Jake: what a lovely bed! Vriska: got ya. Jake, sniffing around: i found some cheese! Jake: *bites Vriska* Vriska: ow! Jake: Blah! awful stuff. Aradia: is that y0u, jake? Jade: how did you know? Vriska: enough! what are you doing in my house? Vriska: *is hit with a fridge* Vriska: hey! Karkat: *SNICKERS AWKWARDLY* Vriska: oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. dead 8road off the ta8le! Karkat: WHERE ARE WE SUPPOSED TO PUT HER? THE BED'S TAKEN. Vriska: huh? Jade: what? Vriska: i live in a swamp. i put up signs. i'm a terrifying troll! what do i have to do to get a little privacy? Jade, being promptly thrown out the door: aah! The Door: *shows Vriska whatā€™s going on outside her hive* Vriska: oh, no. no! no! oh, no. Vriska: what? Vriska: what? are you doing?? in my swamp???????? Everyone: *le gasping* Vriska: all right, get out of here. all of you, move it! come on! let's go! hapaya! hapaya! hey! quickly. come on! no, no! no, no. not there! out of my hive! Vriska: *sighs* John: Hey, donā€™t look at me. i didn't invite them! Lil Hal: gosh, no one invited us. Vriska: what? Lil Hal: we were forced to come here. Vriska: 8y who? Mituna: L0RD 3RD4M. H3 HUFF3D ND H3 PUFF3D 4NDā€¦.. H3 7H1GN3D 4N 3V1C710N N071C33. Vriska, sighs: all right, who knows where this Eridan guy is. murmuring John: Oh, i do! i know where he is! Vriska: does anyone else know where to find him? anyone at all? anyone? John: Me! me! oh! oh! pick me! oh, i know! i know! me, me! Vriska: okay, fine. attention, all alien, weirdo, things. do not get comforta8le! your welcome is officially worn out! in fact, i'm gonna see this guy Eridan right now, and get you all off my land and 8ack where you came from! *cheering* *twittering* *cheering continues* Vriska: oi! You! Vriska, pointing at John: you're comin' with me. John: All right, that's what i like to hear! vriska and john, two stalwart friends, off on a whirlwind, big-city adventure. i love it! John, singing once more: On the road again- sing it with me, Vriska! John, singing on: I can't wait to get on the road again Vriska: what did i say about singing? John: Can i whistle? Vriska: no. John: Can i hum it? Vriska: all right. hum it. John: humming

*long, protracted scene of Eridan walking down the hallway* Tavros: *iS BEING WATERBOARDED* Eridan: that's enough! he's ready to talk. Tavros: *cOUGHING* Eridan, laughing: run, run, run, as fast as you can. you can't catch me. i'm pupa pan! Tavros: yOU'RE A MONSTER. Eridan: i'm not the monster here, you are. you and the rest of that trash, poisoning my perfect wworld. noww tell me, wwhere are the others? Tavros: eAT ME! Tavros: *sPITS IN ERIDANā€™S EYE* Eridan: i'vve tried to be fair to you creatures. noww my patience has reached its end! tell me, or i'll-- Tavros: nO, nOT MY LEGS! nOT MY SHINY METAL ASS! Eridan: all right, then. wwho's hiding them? Tavros: oKAY, i'LL TELL YOU, dO YOU KNOW THE MUFFIN MAN? Eridan: the muffin man? Tavros: tHE MUFFIN MAN Eridan: yes. i knoww the muffin man. wwho livves on drury lane? Tavros: wELL, sHE'S MARRIED TO THE MUFFIN MAN. Eridan: the muffin man? Tavros, crying: tHE MUFFIN MAN!!! Eridan: she's married to the muffin man. *door opens* Equius: D-> My lord! we found it. Eridan: then wwhat are you wwaiting for? bring it in! Equius: D-> puts a thing on a pedestal Everyone: *gasping* Tavros: oH. Eridan: magic mirror, rose lalonde. Tavros: dON'T TELL HIM ANYTHING! Equius: D-> yeets Tavros Tavros: nO!!! Eridan: evvening. mirror rose, on the wwall, is this not the most perfect kingdom of all? Rose: Well, technically you're not a king. Eridan: uh, gamzee. Gamzee: SmAsHeS a MiRrOr Eridan: you wwere saying Rose, unimpressed: What I mean is, you're not a king yet. but you become one. All you have to do is marry a princess. Eridan: go on. Rose, chuckling: So, just sit back and relax, my lord, because it's time for you to meet today's eligible bachelorettes. And here they are! Bachelorette number one is a mentally abused shut-in from a kingdom far, far away. She likes sushi and hot tubbing anytime. Her hobbies include cooking and cleaning for her evil sister and mother. Please welcome, Feferi Piexes! Rose: Bachelorette number two is a cape-wearing girl from the land of fancy. Although she lives with seven other men, she's not easy. Just kiss her dead, frozen lips and find out what a live wire she is! Come on, give it up for Aradia Megido! Rose: And last, but certainly not the least, bachelorette number three is a fiery jadeblood, from a Terezi-guarded castle surrounded by hot boiling lava! Rose: But, don't let that cool you off. She's a loaded pistol who likes piƱa coladas and getting caught in the rain. Rose: Yours for the rescuing, princess Kanaya! Rose: So will it be, bachelorette number one, bachelorette number two, or bachelorette number three? Felts: two! two! three! three! two! two! three! Eridan, anxiously: three? one? three? Gamzee, holding up two fingers: ThReE! pIcK nUmBeR tHrEe, My LoRd! Eridan: okay, okay, uh, number three! Rose: Lord Eridan, you've chosen princess Kanaya. Rose, singing: ā€œIf you like piƱa coladas. and getting caught in the rain-ā€ Eridan: princess kanaya..... Rose, still singing: ā€œif you're not into yoga-ā€ Eridan: she's perfect. all i havve to do is just find someone who can go-- Rose: But I probably should mention the little thing that happens at night. Eridan: i'll do it. Rose: Yes, but after sunset- Eridan: silence! i wwill make this princess kanaya my queen, and duloc wwill finally havve the perfect king! captain, assemble your finest men. wwe're going to havve a tournament.

cuts to John and Vriska outside the castle John: But that's it. that's it right there. that's eridanā€™s place, duloc. i told ya i'd find it! Vriska: so, that must 8e lord Eridan's castle. John: Uh-huh. that's the place. Vriska: do you think may8e he's compens8ing for something? Vriska: laughs John, groans: Hey, wait. wait up, Vriska. Vriska: hey, you! Jake, in an Eridan costume: screams Vriska: wait a second. look, i'm not gonna eat ya. i just-- i just-- Jake: whimpering and runs away Vriska: *sighs, marching stoicly through the 8ullshit, and the empty line* Jake: *hits his head on the wall, whimpering, groans* Vriska: it's quiet. too quiet. Vriska: where is every8ody? John: Hey, look at this! John: *presses a button on a thing* Thing: *clattering, whirring, clicking* Thing: *clicking* Thing: *clicking quickens* Clubs Deuce, singing: welcome to duloc such a perfect town! here we have some rules, let us lay them down. don't make waves, stay in line and we'll get along fine, duloc is a perfect place. please keep off of the grass, shine your shoes, wipe yourā€¦ face. duloc is, duloc is, duloc is a perfect place! ā™Ŗ Clubs Deuce: *takes a picture of Vriska and John* John: Wow! let's do that again! Vriska: no. no. no, no, no, no, no! no. *trumpet fanfare* *crowd cheering* Eridan, in the distance: bravve knights. you are the best and brightest in all the land. *John humming* Eridan: today one of you shall provve himself-- Vriska: all right, you're going the right way for a smacked 8ottom. John: Sorry about that. Crowd in the distance: cheering Eridan: that champion shall havve the honor-- no, no-- the privvilege, to go forth and rescue the lovvely princess kanaya, from the fiery keep of the terezi. if for any reason the wwinner is unsuccessful, the first runner-up wwill take his place, and so on and so forth. some of you may die. but it's a sacrifice i am wwilling to make. Crowd: cheering Eridan: let the tournament begin! Vriska and John: enter the scene Crowd: gasps Eridan: wwhat is that? Crowd: gasping some more Eridan: it's hideous! Vriska: ah, that's not very nice! Vriska :ā€¦..it's just a windy boy. John: Huh? Eridan: indeed. knights! neww plan. the one wwho kills the troll wwill be named champion! havve at her! Hearts Boxcars: get her! Vriska: oh, hey! now, come on! hang on now. Meenah: go ahead! get her! Vriska: can't we just settle this over a pint? Diamonds Droog: kill the beast! Vriska: no? all right then. come on! Vriska: smashes the keg open ā™Ŗ bad reputation by joan jett playing a fight breaks out, in which Vriska proceeds to whoop everyoneā€™s ass in a wrestling ring. Meanwhile, John uses the busted giant keg in order to steamroll everyone, probably murdering them in cold blood John: Hey, Vriska, tag me! tag me! Vriska: o8liges John: Kicks spades slick in the head Vriska: ha! Vriska: yeah! Latula, in the crowd: th3 ch41r! g1v3 h1m th3 ch41r! bell dings Crowd: cheering Vriska, laughing: oh, yeah! ah! ah! thank you! thank you very much! i'm here till thursday. try the veal! ha, ha! Vriska laughs, meanwhile the Felt bust out an absurd number of guns and point them at Vriska crowd gasping, murmuring Felt 9: shall i give the order, sir? Eridan: no. i havve a better idea. Eridan: people of duloc! i givve you our champion! Vriska: what? Eridan: congratulations, cerulean. you're wwon the honor of embarking on a great and noble quest. Vriska: quest? i'm already on a quest. a quest to get my swamp 8ack. Eridan: your swwamp? Vriska: yeah, my swamp! where you dumped those weird alien freakshows! crowd murmuring Eridan: indeed. all right, lowblood. i'll make you a deal. go on this quest for me, and i'll give you your swamp 8ack. Vriska: exactly the w8y it was? Eridan: dowwn to the last slime-covered toadstool. Vriska: and the squatters? Eridan: as good as gone. Vriska: ā€¦..what kind of quest?

John: Let me get this straight. you're gonna go fight Terezi, and rescue a princess just so Eridan will give you back a swamp, which you only don't have because he filled it full of freaks in the first place. is that about right? Vriska: you know what? may8e there's a good reason humans shouldn't talk. John: I don't get it, vriska. why don't you just pull some of that troll stuff on him? throttle him, lay siege to his fortress, grind his bones to make your bread, the whole troll trip. Vriska: oh, i know what. may8e i could have decapit8ed an entire village, and put their heads on a pike, gotten a knife, cut open their spleen and drink their fluids. does that sound good to you? John: uh, no, not really, no. Vriska: For your inform8ion, there's a lot more to trolls than people think. John: Example? Vriska: example? okay, umā€¦ā€¦ trolls are like onions! John, sniffing her onion: They stink? Vriska: yes-- no! John: They make you cry? Vriska: no! John: ohhh, you leave them out in the sun, they get all brown, start sproutin' little white hairs? Vriska: no! l8yers! onions have l*yers. trolls have layers. onions have layers. you get it? we 8oth have layers! Vriska: *sighs* John: Oh, you both have layers. Oh. John, sniffing the now discarded onion: You know, not everybody likes onions. John: Cakes! everybody loves cakes! cakes have layers. Vriska: i don't caaaaaaaare, what everyone likes. trolls. are not. like c8kes. John: You know what else everybody likes? parfaits. have you ever met a person, you say, "hey, let's get some parfait," they say, "no, i don't like parfait"? parfaits are delicious. Vriska: no! you dense, irrit8ing, miniature 8east of 8urden! trolls are like onions! end of story. 8ye-8ye. Vriska, whispering: see ya later! John: ā€¦..parfaits may be the most delicious thing on the whole damn planet! Vriska: you know, i think preferred your humming. John: So you have a tissue or something? i'm making a mess, just the word parfait makes me start slobbering.

cut to a travel montage where the duo end up at the foot of a volcano John: Ooh! Vriska! did you do that? you gotta warn somebody before you just crack one off. my mouth was open and everything. Vriska: 8elieve me, john, if it was me, you'd be dead. Vriska: sniffs Vriska: it's 8rimstone. we must be getting close. John: Yeah, right, brimstone. don't be talking about it's the brimstone. i know what i smell. it wasn't no brimstone. it didn't come off no stone either. Volcano: rumbling Vriska and John: stare at the castle in the middle of a volcano for a minute Vriska: ā€¦sure, it's 8ig enough, but look at the loc8ion! John: Vriska? remember when you said trolls have layers? Vriska: oh, aye. John: Well, i have a bit of a confession to make. humans don't have layers. we wear our fear right out there on our sleeves. Vriska: w8 a second. you don't have sleeves. John: you know what i mean! Vriska: you can't tell me you're afraid of heights. John: No, no, i'm just a little uncomfortable being on a rickety bridge over a boiling lake of lava! Vriska: come on, John. i'm right here 8eside you, okay. for emotional support. Vriska: we'll just tackle this thing together, one little 8a8y step at a time. John: Really? Vriska: really really. John: Okay, that makes me feel so much better. Vriska: just keep moving. Vriska: and don't look down. John: Okay, don't look down. don't look down. don't look down. keep on moving. Vriska: kinda done with him John: Don't look down. John: breaks a step and stumbles John: Vriska! i'm lookin' down! John: God, i can't do this! just let me off right now! please!!! Vriska: 8ut you're already halfway there John: But I know that half is safe! Vriska: okay, fine. i don't have time for this. you go 8ack. John: Vriska! no. wait! Vriska: John-- let's have a dance then, shall we? Vriska: shakes the 8ridge John: Don't do that! Vriska: oh, i'm sorry. do what? oh, this? Vriska, with a shit eating grin: swings the 8ridge even more John: Yes, that! Vriska: this? this. do it. okay! Vriska: swinging the 8ridge like no8odyā€™s 8usiness John: Vriska! no! stop it! Vriska: you said do it. i'm doin' it! John: i'm gonna die. i'm gonna die. vriska, i'm gonna die! John, stepping back onto solid land: Oh! Vriska, patting his face affectionately: that'll do, john. that'll do. John: cool. so, where is this fire-breathing pain-in-the-neck anyway? Vriska: inside, w8ing for us to rescue her. John: I was talking about terezi, vriska.

John, whispering: You afraid? Vriska: no, 8ut-- shhhhhhhh. John: oh, good. me neither. John: Cause there's nothin' wrong with bein' afraid. fear's a sensible response to an unfamiliar situation. unfamiliar dangerous situation, i might add. with a Terezi that breathes fire and eats knights and breathes fire, it sure doesn't mean you're a coward if you're a little scared. i sure as heck ain't no coward. i know that. Vriska: John, two things, okay? shutā€¦ā€¦.. up. now go over there and see if you can find any stairs. John: Stairs? i thought i was lookin' for the princess. Vriska: the princess will 8e up the stairs in the highest room in the tallest tower. John: What makes you think she'll be there? Vriska: i read it in a 8ook once. John: Cool. you handle the terezi. i'll handle the stairs John: I'll find those stairs. i'll whip their butt, too. those stairs won't know which way they're going. John, doing his own thing: gonna take drastic steps. kick it to the curb. don't mess with me. John: I'm the stair master. i've mastered the stairs. i wish i had a step right here, right here. i'd step all over it. Vriska, spotting the tower: well, at least we know where the princess is, 8ut where's the--? John: Terezi! Terezi: RO4RS John: runs away from Terezi Vriska: John! look out! John: screaming manly screams as they run away from terezi John: whimpering in fear rather courageously Vriska, grabbing Tereziā€™s cape: got ya! Terezi: RO4RS MOR3 4S SH3 FL1NGS 4 B1TCH 4W4Y Vriska: whoa! whoa! Whoa! Vriska: crashes into the tower John, meanwhile: Oh! aah! aah! Terezi: GROWLS John, absolutely cornered: No! oh, no. no! John, at this point desperate: Oh! what large teeth you have! Terezi: GROWLS MOR3 John: I mean, i mean, white sparkling teeth. i know you probably hear this all the time from your food, but you must bleach, 'cause that is one dazzling smile you got there. do i detect a hint of minty freshness? Terezi: G3NU1N3LY FL4TT3R3D John: And you know what else? You're-- Terezi: LOOMS 1N John: You're a girl, terezi! oh, sure! John: I mean, of course you're a girl, terezi. John: Cause, you're just reeking a teal-blooded beauty. Terezi: BLUSH3S John: What's the matter with you? you got something in your eye? Terezi: BLOWS 4 H34RT SH4P3D SMOK3 R1NG John, coughing a little: Ooh. oh. oh. man, i'd really love to stay, but, you know, i'm, uh-- coughs i'm an asthmatic, and i don't know if it'd work out if you're gonna blow smoke rings and stuff. John: Vriska! Terezi: DR4GS H1M BY TH3 HOOD John: No! vriska! vriska! vriska!

Vriska, waking up from her crash landing: groans, sighs Kanaya: Gets Herself Ready Kanaya: Oh! Oh. Vriska, in armor, shaking Kanaya: wake up! Kanaya, definitely shaken: What!? Vriska: are you princess Kanaya? Kanaya: I Am, Awaiting A Knight So Bold As To Rescue Me. Vriska: oh, that's nice. now, let's go! Kanaya: But, Wait, Sir Knight. This Be-Ith Our First Meeting. Should It Not Be A Wonderful, Romantic Moment? Vriska: yeah. sorry, lady. there's no time. Kanaya: Hey, Wait. What Are You Doing? You Know, You Should Sweep Me Off My Feet, Out Yonder Window, And Down A Rope Onto Your Valiant Steed. Vriska: you've had a lot of time to plan this, haven't you? Kanaya: Mm-Hmm. Vriska: gra8s kanaya and makes 8reak for it Kanaya: But We Have To Savor This Moment! You Could Recite An Epic Poem For Me. A Ballad? A Sonnet! A Limerick? Or Something! Vriska: i don't think so. Kanaya: Can I At Least Know The Name Of My Champion? Vriska: um, vriska. Kanaya: Sir Vriska. Kanaya, clearing throat: I Pray That You Take This Favor As A Token Of My Gratitude. Vriska: thanks! Vriska: wipes the sweat away Terezi: RO4R1NG OFF 1N TH3 D1ST4NC3 Kanaya: You Didnt Slay The Terezi? Vriska: it's on my to-do list. now, come on! Kanaya: But This Isnt Right! You're Meant To Charge In, Sword Drawn, Banner Flying! That's What All The Other Knights Did! Vriska: yeah, right 8efore they 8urst into flame! Kanaya: You Know, That's Not The Point! Oh! Wait. Where Are You Going? The Exits Over There. Vriska: well, i have to save my ass. Kanaya: What Kind Of Knight Are You? Vriska: one of the kind. John, cuddled by Terezi: Slow down. slow down, baby, please! i believe it's healthy to get to know someone over a long period of time. just call me old-fashioned. i don't to rush into a physical relationship. i'm not emotionally ready for a commitment of, uh, this-- magnitude really is the word i'm looking for. magnitude-- hey, that is unwanted physical contact! Terezi: BR1NGS 4 C4NDL3ST1CK CLOS3R John: Hey, what are you doing? Terezi: L1GHTS SOM3 C4NDL3S John: Okay, okay. let's just back up a little and take this one step at a time. we really should get to know each other first as friends or maybe his pen pals. 'cause i'm on the road a lot, but i just love receiving cards, and-- i'd really love to stay, but-- hey, hey, hey! don't do that! that's my windsock! that's my personal sock. you're gonna tear it off. i don't give permission to-- wait. John: What are you gonna do with that? hey, now! Terezi: L34NS 1N FOR 4 K1SS John: no way. no! no! no, no! no. no, no, no! no! Oh! Vriska: launches a quick 8ut ultim8ly 8um8ling rescue, ending with a quite literal ass kissing and a slightly confused 8ut massively annoyed Terezi John: Hi, princess! Kanaya: It Talks! Vriska: yeah, it's getting him to shut up, that's the trick! John: Vriska! Vriska: oh! Vriska: hits herself in some unpleasant ways Terezi: G1V3S CH4S3, RO4R1NG L1K3 SH3 DO3S TH3 WHOL3 W4Y Vriska: okay, you two. head for the exit. Vriska, grabbing a sword: i'll take care of the Terezi. Vriska: run!!!!!!!! Vriska: manages to chain up Terezi in the castle while making a 8reak for the rope 8ridge, cutting it partway through Terezi: JUMPS, BUT 1S CH41N3D TO TH3 C4STL3 Terezi: RO4RS, MOROS3LY Terezi: NOW GROWL1NG 1N TH3 DIST4NC3

Kanaya: You Did It! You Rescued Me! Youre Amazing. Youre-- Youre Wonderful. Youreā€¦ A Little Unorthodox, Ill Admit. But Thy Deed Is Great, And Thine Heart Is Pure. I Am Eternally In Your Debt. John: clears throat Kanaya: And Where Would Be A Brave Knight Be Without Her Noble Bestie? John: All right, i hope you heard that. she called me a noble bestie. she thinks i'm a noble bestie. Kanaya, laughing: The Battle Is Won. You May Remove Your Helmet, Good Sir Knight. Vriska: uh, no. Kanaya: Why not? Vriska: i haveā€¦ā€¦.. helmet hair? Kanaya: Please. I Wouldā€™st Look Upon The Face Of My Rescuer. Vriska: no, no, you wouldn't'st. Kanaya: But, How Will You Kiss Me? Vriska: what? that part wasn't in the jo8 description. John: Maybe it's a perk :D Kanaya: No, Its Destiny. Oh, You Must Know How It Goes. A Princess Locked In A Tower And Beset By A Terezi, Is Rescued By A Brave Knight, And Then They Share True Loves First Kiss. John: hmm? with vriska? you think-- wait. wait. John: You think that vriska is your true love? Kanaya: Well, Yes. John and Vriska: w8 a moment John and Vriska: laughing now John: you think vriska is your true love! Kanaya: What Is So Funny? Vriska: let's just say i'm not your type, okay? Kanaya: Of Course, You Are. Youre My Rescuer. Now-- Now Remove Your Helmet. Vriska: look. i really don't think this is a good idea. Kanaya: Just Take Off The Helmet. Vriska: i'm not going to. Kanaya: Take It Off. Vriska: no! Kanaya: Now! Vriska: okay! easy. as you command, your highness. Kanaya: You-- Youre-- A Girl. Vriska: oh, you were expecting prince charming. Kanaya: Well, Yes, Actually. Oh, No. This Is All Wrong. Youre Not Supposed To Be A Girl. Vriska: princess, i was sent to rescue you 8y lord Eridan, okay. he's the one who wants to marry you. Kanaya: Then Why Didnt He Come To Rescue Me? Vriska: good question. you should ask him that when we get there. Kanaya: But I Have To Be Rescued By My True Love. Not By Some Troll And Her Schlub. John: So much for noble bestie. Vriska: you're not making my jo8 any easier. Kanaya: Im Sorry, But Your Job Is Not My Problem. You Can Tell Lord Eridan That If He Wants To Rescue Me Properly, Ill Be Waiting For Him Right Here. Vriska: hey! i'm no one's messenger girl, all right? i'm a delivery girl. Kanaya: You Wouldnt Dare. Kanaya, being lifted up: Put Me Down! Vriska: ya comin', John? John: i'm right behind ya. Kanaya: Put Me Down, Or You Will Suffer The Consequences! This Is Not Dignified! Put Me Down!

Some time laterā€¦ John: Okay, so here's another question. say there's a woman that digs you, right? but you don't really like her that way. how do you let her down real easy so her feelings aren't hurt, but you don't get burned to a crisp and eaten? Kanaya, still on Vriska shoulder: You Just Tell Her She's Not Your True Love. Everyone Knows What Happens When You Find Your- Vriska: jostles her Kanaya: Hey!! Kanaya: The Sooner We Get To Duloc The Better. John: oh, yeah. you're gonna love it there, princess. it's beautiful! Kanaya: And My Groom-To-Be? Lord Eridan? Whats He Like? Vriska: well, let me put this way, princess. men of Eridan's standards are in short supply. laughs John: I don't know, Vriska. there are those who think little of him. both laughing Kanaya: Stop It. Stop It, Both Of You. You're Just Jealous You Can Never Measure Up To A Great Ruler Like Lord Eridan. Vriska: may8e. 8ut i'll let you do the "measuring" when you see him tomorrow. Kanaya: Tomorrow? It'll Take That Long? Shouldn't We Stop To Make Camp? Vriska: no, that'll take longer. Kanaya: But There's Robbers In The Woods. John: whoa! time out, Vriska! camping definitely is startin' to sound good. Vriska: hey, come on. i'm scarier than anything we're going to see in this forest. Kanaya: I Need To Find Somewhere To Camp Now! Vriska, grunting: hey! over here. John: Vriska, we can do better than that. i don't think this is fit for a princess. Kanaya: No, No, Its Perfect. It Just Needs A Few Homey Touches. Vriska: homey touches? like what? Kanaya, ripping wood off a tree: A Door. Well, Ladies, Gentlemen, I Bid Thee Good Night. John: You want me to read you a bedtime story? i will. Kanaya: I Said, Good Night! Vriska: starts pushing a 8oulder closer to the cave John: Vriska, what are you doing? Vriska, laughing: i just-- you know-- oh, come on. i was just kidding.

John and Vriska: hanging around a bonfire Vriska: over there. that's Mindfang, the only troll ever to spit over three wheat fields. John: hey, can you tell my future from these stars? Vriska: the stars don't tell the future, John. they tell stories. look. there's Dualscar, the flatulent. you can guess what he's famous for. John: I know you're making this up. Vriska: no, look. there he is, and there's the group of juggalos running away from his stench. John: Man, ain't nothin' but a bunch of little dots. Vriska: you know, John, sometimes things are more than they appear. hmm? forget it. John, sighing: Vriska. what we gonna do, when we get our swamp anyway? Vriska: our swamp? John: you know, when we're through with rescuing the princess. Vriska: we? John, there is no "we." there's no "our." there's just me and my swamp. the first thing i'm gonna do is 8uild a ten-foot wall around my land. John: you cut me deep, Vriska. you cut me real deep just now. you know what i think? i think this whole wall thing is just a way to keep somebody out. Vriska: no. ya think? John: are you hidin' something? Vriska: never mind, John. John: this is another one of those onion things, isn't it? Vriska: no, this is one of those drop-it-and-leave-it-alone things. John: why don't you want to talk about it? Vriska: why do you always want to? John: why are you blocking? Vriska: i'm not 8locking. John: yes, you are. Vriska: John, i'm warning you. John: who you trying to keep out? Vriska: every8ne! okay? John: now we're getting somewhere! Vriska: for the love of pete! John: what exactly is your problem? what do you got against the world? Vriska: i'm not the one with the pro8lem. it's the world that seems to have a pro8lem. people take one look at me and go, "aah! help! run! a 8ig, stupid, ugly, 8isexual, 8lue, 8itchy troll!" Vriska: sighs Vriska: they judge me 8efore they even know me. Vriska: that's why i'm 8etter off alone. John: you know? when we met, i didn't think you were just a big, stupid, ugly, bisexual, blue, bitchy troll. Vriska: yeah. John: so, are there any Johns up there? Vriska: there's Johnny, the small and annoying. John: oh, yeah, i see him. the big, shiny one there. right? Vriska: that's the moon.

Back at the palace Eridan: again. showw me again. Rose: stops the music Eridan: mirror, mirror, showw her to me. showw me the princess. Rose: Ugh Rose: Rewinds, resumes the clip Eridan: ah. perfect.

John and Vriska: snoring, soundly asleep Kanaya, having wandered off: ā™Ŗā™Ŗ Vocalizing Some Music Kanaya: ā™Ŗā™Ŗ Music Shit Continues Davesprite: ā™Ŗā™Ŗ whistling Davesprite: ā™Ŗā™Ŗ whistling some more Kanaya: ā™Ŗā™Ŗ Sings In Time Davesprite: ā™Ŗā™Ŗ matches with whistles Kanaya: ā™Ŗā™Ŗ Vocalizes Happily Davesprite: ā™Ŗā™Ŗ whistles joyously Kanaya: ā™Ŗā™Ŗ Does Her Thing, A Bit More Intensely Davesprite: ā™Ŗā™Ŗ isnā€™t backing down Kanayaā™Ŗā™Ŗ Now Insanely High Pitched Davesprite: ā™Ŗā™Ŗ now itā€™s personal Davesprite: davesplodes

Kanaya: Is Making Some Suspiciously Orange Eggs John, sleeptalking: Mmm, yeah, you know i like it like that. John, still mumbling in his sleep: Come on, baby. i said i like it. Vriska: John, wake up. John: huh? what? Vriska: wake up. John: What? Kanaya: Good Morning. How Do You Like Your Eggs? John: Good morning, princess! Vriska: what's all this a8out? Kanaya: We Kind Of Got Off To A Bad Start Yesterday. I Wanted To Make It Up To You. After All, You Did Rescue Me. Vriska: uh, thanks? Kanaya: Well, Eat Up. Weve Got A Big Day Ahead Of Us.

Vriska, after breakfast: 8elches John: Vriska! Vriska: what? it's a compliment. 8etter out than in, i always say ::::D John: Well, it's no way to behave in front of a princess. Kanaya: Belches Kanaya: Thanks. John: She's as nasty as you are. Vriska, chuckling: you know, you're not exactly what i expected. Kanaya: Maybe You Shouldn't Judge People Before You Get To Know Them. Kanaya: Starts Doing Her Singing Thing Again Kanaya: Is Swept Off Her Feet By A Random Bronze Blur Monsieur Rufioh: la l1berte! hey! Vriska: princess! Monsieur Rufioh: laughs Kanaya: What Are You Doing? Monsieur Rufioh: be st1ll, cher1e, for 1 am your sav1or! and 1 am rescu1ng you from th1s cerulean k1ssing sounds beast. Vriska: hey! that's my princess. go find your own! Monsieur Rufioh: please, monsters! can't you see 1'm a l1ttle busy here? Kanaya: Look, Pal. I Dont Know Who You Think You Are! Monsieur Rufioh: oh! of course! how rude. please let me 1ntroduce myself. oh, merry men! laughs ā™Ŗā™Ŗ accordion Merry Men, mostly Kurloz and Horuss: ā™Ŗ ta, dah, dah, dah, whoo! ā™Ŗ Monsieur Rufioh: ā™Ŗ 1 steal from the r1ch and g1ve to the needy. ā™Ŗ Kurloz: ā™Ŗ HE TAKES A WEE PERCENTAGE. ā™Ŗ Monsieur Rufioh: ā™Ŗ but 1'm not greedy. 1 rescue pretty damsels. man, 1'm good1oh. ā™Ŗ Merry Morons: ā™Ŗ what a guy, monsieur Rufioh! ā™Ŗ Monsieur Rufioh: ā™Ŗ break 1t down! Monsieur Rufioh: does an 1r1sh r1ver dance Monsieur Rufioh: ā™Ŗ 1 l1ke an honest f1ght and a saucy l1ttle ma1d. ā™Ŗ Merry Morons: ā™Ŗ what he's basically saying is he likes to get-- ā™Ŗ Monsieur Rufioh: ā™Ŗ pa1d! ā™Ŗ Merry Morons: ā™Ŗ so. ā™Ŗ Monsieur Rufioh: ā™Ŗ when an troll 1n the bush grabs a lady by the tush, that's bad. ā™Ŗ Merry Morons: ā™Ŗ that's bad. ā™Ŗ Monsieur Rufioh: ā™Ŗ when a beauty's w1th a beast 1t makes me awfully mad. ā™Ŗ Merry Morons: ā™Ŗ he's mad. he's really, really mad. ā™Ŗ Monsieur Rufioh: ā™Ŗ 1'll take my blade and ram 1t through your heart. keep your eyes on me, boys 'cause 1'm about to staaaaaaaart- Kanaya: Tarzan Yells, Swinging In And Swiftly Roundhouse Kicking Him Monsieur Rufioh: unconsc1ous, probably Kanaya: Karate Yell Merry Morons: gasping Kanaya: Man, That Was Annoying! Horuss: 8=D oh, you little-- Kanaya: Gets Back To It, Promptly Kicking Many An Ass With A Variety Of Flips, Kicks, Punches, And Matrix Times Kanaya, chuckling: Shall We? Vriska: hold the phone. Vriska: oh! whoa, whoa, whoa. hold on now. where did that come from? Kanaya: What? Vriska: that! 8ack there. that was amazing! where did you learn that? Kanaya: Well- When One Lives Alone, One Has To Learn These Things In Case Theres A-- Theres An Arrow In Your Butt! Vriska: what? oh, would you look at that? Kanaya: Oh, No. This Is All My Fault. Im So Sorry. John: Why? what's wrong? Kanaya: Vriska's Hurt. John: Vriska's hurt. oh, no, vriska's gonna die!! Vriska: John, i'm okay. John: you can't do this to me. i'm too young for you to die. keep your legs elevated. turn your head and cough. does anyone know the heimlich?!?! Kanaya: Calm Down. If You Want To Help Him, Run Into The Woods And Find Me A Blue Flower With Red Thorns. John: blue flower, red thorns. okay. i'm on it. blue flower. red thorns. Vriska, don't die. if you see a long tunnel, stay away from the light! Vriska: John! John: okay, okay. blue flower. red thorns. blue flower. red thorns. Vriska: what are the flowers for? Kanaya: For Getting Rid Of Him. Vriska: ah! Kanaya: Now You Hold Still, And Ill Yank This Thing Out. Kanaya: Tugs Vriska: ow! hey! easy with the yankin'. Kanaya: Im Sorry, But It Has To Come Out. Vriska: no, it's tender. now, hold on. what you're doing is the opposite of help. Kanaya: Don't Move. Vriska: look, time out. Kanaya: Would You-- grunts Okay. What Do You Propose We Do?

John, wandering through a field of blue flowers: Blue flower. red thorns. blue flower. red thorns. blue flower. red thorns. this would be so much easier, if i wasn't color-blind! John: blue flower, red thorns. Vriska: ow! John, grabbing the nearest flowers: hold on, Vriska! i'm comin'!

Vriska: ow! not good. Kanaya: Okay. Okay. I Can Nearly See The Head. Vriska: grunts in pain Kanaya: Its-- Vriska: ow! Ohh! Kanaya: Falls On Vriska In A Rom-Com Manner John: Ahem. Vriska, getting up: nothing happened. we were just, uh- - John: look, if you wanted to be alone, all you had to do was ask. okay? Vriska: come on! that's the last thing on my mind. the princess here was just-- ugh! Kanaya: Smugly Wiggles The Now Free Arrow Vriska: ā€¦ā€¦..owwwwwwww John: hey, what's that? John: nervous chuckle that's-- is that blood? John: faints Vriska: picks up her 8lue 8uddy

Cue a montage of them doing cutesy falling in love things, like crossing a river, absentmindedly yeeting John, catching flies with a spiderā€™s web, and mutilating random animals for the sake of a visual gag

On the outskirts of Eridanā€™s place Vriska: there it is, princess. your future aw8s you. Kanaya: That's Duloc? John: yeah, i know. you know, Vviska thinks lord Eridan's compensating for something, which i think means he has a really-- John: is smacked John: Ow! Vriska: um, i, uh-- i guess we 8etter move one. Kanaya: Sure. But, Vriska? Im-- Im Worried About John. John: blubbering Vriska: what? Kanaya: I Mean, Look At Him. He Doesn't Look So Good. John: What are you talking about? i'm fine. Kanaya: That's What They Always Say, And Then Next Thing You Know, You're On Your Back. John: doesnā€™t get it Kanaya: Dead. John: gets it Vriska: you know, she's right. you look awful. do you want to sit down? Kanaya: Ill Make You Some Tea. John: i didn't want to say nothin', but i got this twinge in my neck, and when i turn my head like this, look. John, turning his neck like a demon: bones crunch John: Ow! see? Vriska: who's hungry? i'll find us some dinner. Kanaya: I'll Get The Firewood. John: Hey, where you goin'? oh, man, i can't feel my horns! John: ....i don't have any horns! John: i think i need a hug :(

Kanaya, over a bonfire: Mmm. Mmm. This Is Good. This Is Really Good. What Is This? Vriska: uh, weedrat. rotisserie style. Kanaya: No Kidding. Vriska: well, this is delicious. well, they're also gr8 in stews. now, i don't mean to 8rag, 8ut i make a mean weedrat stew ;;;;) Vriska: chuckling Vriska: may8e you can come visit me in the swamp sometime. i'll cook all kinds of stuff for you. swamp toad soup, fish eye tartare-- you name it. Kanaya, chuckles: I'd Like That. Vriska: um, princess? Kanaya: Yes, Vriska? Vriska: i, um, i was wondering. Vriska: are you-- Vriska: sighs are you gonna eat that? Kanaya: chuckles John: man, isn't this romantic? just look at that sunset. Kanaya: Sunset? Oh, No! I Mean, Its Late. I-Its Very Late. Vriska: what? John: wait a minute. i see what's goin' on here. you're afraid of the dark, aren't you? Kanaya: Yes! Yes, Thats It. Im Terrified. You Know, Id Better Go Inside. John: Don't feel bad, princess. i used to be afraid of the dark, too, until-- hey, no, wait. John: I'm still afraid of the dark! Vriska sighs Kanaya: Good Night. Vriska: good night... door creaks John: Ohh! now i really see what's goin' on here. Vriska: oh, what are you talkin' a8out? John: I don't even wanna hear it. look, i'm an human, and i got instincts. i know two were diggin' in each other. i could feel it. Vriska: you're crazy. i'm just 8ringing her 8ack to Eridan. John: Oh, come on, vriska. wake up and smell the pheromones. just go on in and tell her how you feel. Vriska: i-- there's nothing to tell. 8esides, even if i did tell her that, well, you know-- and i'm not sayin' i do 'cause i don't-- she's a princess, and i'm-- John: A girl? Vriska: yeah. a girl. John: Hey, where you goin'? Vriska: to getā€¦ more firewood.

Later, in the hut John: Princess? princess kanaya? princess, where are you? John: Princess? John: It's very spooky in here. i ain't playing no games. Kanaya: Appears In A Lesbian Pride Flag Cape John: screams! Kanaya: Oh, No! John: No, help! Kanaya: Shh! John: Vriska! vriska! vriska! Kanaya: No, It's Okay. It's Okay. John: Vriska, what did you do to the princess? Kanaya: John, I'm The Princess. John: Aah! Kanaya: It's Me. In This Outfit. John: Oh, my god! John: You mind controlled the princess, vriska! can you hear me? Kanaya: John! John: Listen, keep thinking! i'll get you out of there! Kanaya: No! John: Vriska! vriska! vriska! Kanaya: Shh! John: Vriska! Kanaya: Covers His Mouth Already Kanaya: This Is Me. John, muffled: Princess? John: What happened to you? you're, uh, uh, uh, different. Kanaya: I'm Into Girls, Maybe, Okay? John: Well, yeah! was it something you ate? 'cause i told Vriska those rats was a bad idea. you are what you eat, i said. Kanaya: No. I-- Ive Been This Way As Long As I Can Remember. John: what do you mean? look, i ain't never seen you like this before. Kanaya: I Only Let It Happen When The Sun Goes Down. Kanaya: "By Night One Way, By Day Another. This Shall Be The Norm, Until You Find True Loves First Kiss, And Then Take Loves True Form." John: Ah, that's beautiful. i didn't know you wrote poetry! Kanaya: Its A Spell. When I Was A Little Troll, A Witch Cast A Spell On Me. Every Night I Become This. This Horrible, Ugly Bitch! I Was Placed In A Tower To Await The Day My True Love Would Rescue Me. Thats Why I Have To Marry Lord Eridan Tomorrow, Before The Sun Sets And He Sees Me, Like This. sobs John: All right, all right. calm down. look, this sounds more like a societal pressure thing than an actual spell. John: You're also not ugly. John: Well, i ain't gonna lie, you do look like a bitch John: But you're only looking like this at night. vriska's a bitch 24-7. Kanaya: But, John, Im A Princess, And This Is Not How A Princess Is Meant To Be John: Princess, how 'bout if you don't marry Eridan? Kanaya: I Have To. Only My True Loves Kiss Can Break The Spell. John: Again, i think thatā€™s more a societal thing, but, you know, um, i think you're kind of an huge lesbian and maybe in denial, and Vriska-- well, you got a lot in common. Kanaya: Vriska? Vriska, outside, practicing: princess, i-- uh, how's going, first of all? good? um, good for me too. i'm okay. i saw this flower and thought of you 8ecause it's pretty and-- well, i don't really like it, 8ut i thought you might like it 'cause you're pretty. 8ut i like you anyway. i'd-- uh, uh-- Vriska: i'm in trou8le. okay, here we go. Kanaya, inside: I Cant Just Marry Whoever I Want. Take A Good Look At Me, John. Kanaya: I Mean, Really, Who Could Ever Love A Bitch So Hideous And Nasty? "Princess" And "Nasty" Don't Go Together. Vriska: conveniently overhears that part and leaves despondent Kanaya: Thats Why I Cant Stay Here With Vriska. My Only Chance To Live Happily Ever After Is To Marry My True Love. Kanaya: Deep Sigh Kanaya: Dont You See, John? Thats Just How It Has To Be. Its The Only Way To Break The Spell. John: Not a spell, but you at least gotta tell vriska the truth. Kanaya: No! You Can't Breathe A Word. No One Must Ever Know. John: What's the point of being able to talk if you gotta keep secrets? Kanaya: Promise You Won't Tell. Promise! John: All right, all right. i won't tell her. but you should. i just know before this is over, i'm gonna need a whole lot of serious therapy. look at my eye twitchin'.

Later on Kanaya, plucking petals on a flower: I Tell Her, I Tell Her Not. I Tell Her, I Tell Her Not. Kanaya, plucking the last petal: I Tell Her! Vriska! Vriska, Theres Something I Want-- John: snoring Kanaya: Vriska. Are You All Right? Vriska: perfect! never 8een 8etter. Kanaya: I-- I Dont-- Theres Something I Have To Tell You. Vriska: you don't have to tell me anything, princess. i heard enough last night. Kanaya: You Heard What I Said? Vriska: every word. Kanaya: I Thought You'd Understand. Vriska: oh, i understand. like you said, "who could love a hideous, ugly 8east?" Kanaya: But I Thought That Wouldnt Matter To You. Vriska: yeah? well, it does. Kanaya: Sighs Dejectedly Vriska: ah, right on time. horse whinnies Vriska: princess, i've 8rought you a little something. ā™Ŗā™Ŗ fanfare John, yawning: What'd i miss? what'd i miss? John, realizing the royal guard would kill him if he doesnā€™t shut up, now muffled: Who said that? couldn't have been john. Eridan: princess kanaya. Vriska: as promised. now hand it over. Eridan: vvery wwell, cerulean. the deed to your swwamp, cleared out, as agreed. take it and go before i change my mind. forgivve me, princess, for startling you, but you startled me, for i havve evver seen such a radiant beauty before. i am lord eridan. Kanaya: Forgive Me, My Lord, For I Was Just Saying, A Short, Farewell. Eridan: that's so swweet. you don't havve to wwaste good manners on the bitch. it's not like it has feelings. Kanaya: No, Youre Right. It Doesn't. Eridan: princess kanaya, beautiful, fair, flawwless kanaya. i ask your hand in marriage. Eridan: gets off his high horse Kanaya: Gasps Eridan: wwill you be the perfect bride for the perfect groom? Kanaya: Lord Eridan, I Accept. Nothing Would Make- Eridan: excellent! i'll start the plans, for tomorroww wwe wwed! Kanaya: No! I Mean, Uh, Why Wait? Lets Get Married Today Before The Sun Sets. Eridan: oh, anxious, are wwe? you're right. the sooner, the better. there's so much to do! there's the caterer, the cake, the band, the guest list. captain, round up some guests! Kanaya: Fare-Thee-Well, Blue Blood. John: Vriska, what are you doing? you're letting her get away. Vriska: yeah? so what? John: Vriska, there's something about her you don't know. i talked to her last night. Vriska: i know you talked to her last night! you're gr8 pals, aren't ya? now, if you two are such good friends, why don't you follow her home? John: Vriska, i-- i wanna go with you. Vriska: i told you, didn't i? you're not coming home with me. i live alone! my swamp! me! no8ody else! understand? no8ody! especially useless, pathetic, annoying, talking, Johns! John: but, i thought-- Vriska: yeah. you know what? you thought wrong! John: Vriskaā€¦

ā™Ŗ hallelujah playing over a sad montage of Kanaya and Vriska slowly realizing how hollow their lives feel now that the other is gone. They are both sad and hollow. meanwhile John sits at a lake, bumping into a sad Terezi who somehow escaped the castle. he consoles her while the sad montage continues

Later, at Vriskaā€™s hive thumping sound Vriska: John? John: grunts moving some logs around Vriska: what are you doing? John: I would think, of all people, you would recognize a wall when you saw one. Vriska: 8ut the wall's supposed to go around my swamp, not through it. John: It is. around your half. see, that's your half, and this is my half. Vriska: oh! your half. hmm. John: Yes, my half. i helped rescue the princess. i did half the work. i get half the booty. now hand me that big old rock, the one that looks like your head. Vriska: gra8s the log john is moving Vriska: 8ack off! John: no, you back off. Vriska: this is my swamp! John: Our swamp! Vriska: let go, John! John: you let go! Vriska: stu88orn jackass! John: bitchy troll! Vriska: fine! Vriska: lets go of the log and storms off John: hey, come back here! i'm not through with you yet! Vriska: well, i'm through with you. John: Uh-uh. you know, with you it's always, "me, me, me!" John: Well, guess what! now it's my turn! so you just shut up and pay attention! John: You are mean to me. you insult me and you don't appreciate anything that i do! you're always pushing me around or pushing me away! Vriska: oh, yeah? well, if i treated you so 8ad, how come you came 8ack? John: Because that's what friends do! they forgive each other! Vriska: oh, yeah. you're right, John. Vriska: i forgive you Vriska: for sta88ing me in the 8ack! Vriska: slams the door on john, 8oth metaphorically and literally John: ohh! you're so wrapped up in layers, onion girl, you're afraid of your own feelings. Vriska: go aw8y! John: there you are, doing it again just like you did to Kanaya. all she ever do was like you. maybe even love you! Vriska: love me? she said i was ugly, a hideous monster. i heard the two of you talking! John: she wasn't talkin' about you! John: she was talkin' about, uhā€¦. somebody else. Vriska, opening the metaphor door along with the literal one: she wasn't talking about me? John: Mhm Vriska: well, then who was she talking a8out? John: Nuh-uh. no way. i ain't saying anything. you don't wanna listen to me. right? right? Vriska: John! John: No! Vriska: okay, look. i'm sorry, all right? John: Hmph. Vriska, sighing: i'm sorry. i guess i am just a 8ig, stupid, ugly, 8lue-8looded 8itch. can you forgive me? John: Hey, that's what friends are for. right? Vriska: right. friends? John: Friends. Vriska: so, what did Kanaya s8y about me? John: What are you asking me for? why don't you ask her? Vriska: the wedding! we'll never make it in time. John: ha-ha-ha! never fear, for where, there's a will, there's a way, and i have a way! John: whistles Vriska: John? Terezi: SHOWS UP ON 4 MOTORCYCL3 John laughing John: I guess it's just a human magnetism! Vriska, laughing: aw, come here, you! Vriska: hugs him in a genuine show of affection John: All right, all right. don't get all mushy on me. no one likes a kiss out of nowhere. all right, hop on and hold on tight. i haven't had a chance to install the seat belts yet! John, laughing his ass off: WHOO!

At the church bells tolling Karkat, in a priest outfit: PEOPLE OF DULOC, THIS WEIRD AS FUCK BASS ACKWARDS SHITHOLE WE CALL HOME WE GATHER HERE TODAY, TO BEAR WITNESS, TO THE UNIONā€¦ Kanaya: Um-- Of Our Now King-- Karkat: EXCUSE ME, IS THERE SOMETHING YOUā€™D LIKE TO SAY? Kanaya: Could We Just Skip Ahead To The "I Dos"? Eridan, chuckling: go on.

John, Vriska and Terezi arriving on the scene John: go ahead, have some fun. if we need you, i'll whistle. how about that? John: Vriska, wait, wait! wait a minute! you wanna do this right, don't you? Vriska: what are you talking a8out? John: there's a line you gotta wait for. the preacher's gonna say, "speak now or forever hold your peace." that's when you say, "i o8ject!" Vriska: i don't have time for this! John: wait. what are you doing? listen to me! John, bodyblocking Vriska: Look, you love this woman, don't you? Vriska: yes. John: you wanna hold her? Vriska: yes. John: please her??? Vriska: yes! John, singing once again: ā™Ŗ Then you got to, got to try a little tenderness! ā™Ŗ John: the chicks love that romantic crap! Vriska: all right! cut it out. when does this guy say the line? John: we gotta check it out. Vriska: yeets john for narr8ive reasons so he can look inside the church Karkat: AND SO, BY THE POWER VESTED IN ME FOR SOME GOD FORSAKEN REASONā€¦ Vriska: what do you see? John: the whole town's in there! Vriska: yeets him again Karkat: I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU TWO BLIGHTS ON THE WORLD HUSBAND AND WIFEā€¦ John: they're at the altar. Vriska: tosses him once more Karkat: KING AND QUEEN OF THIS PILE OF SHIT. John: mother fletcher! he already said it. Vriska: oh! for the love of pete! Vriska: drops john Vriska, busting into the church: i o8ject!!!!!!!! Kanaya: Vriska? The Crowd: le gasps

Eridan: oh, noww wwhat does she wwant? The Crowd: cheering on Vriska Vriska: hi, everyone. havin' a good time, are ya? i love duloc, first of all. very clean! Kanaya: What Are You Doing Here? Eridan: really, it's rude enough being alivve wwhen no one wwants you, but showwing up uninvvited to a wwedding-- Vriska: kanaya! i need to talk to you. Kanaya: Oh, Now You Wanna Talk? Its A Little Late For That, So If You'll Excuse Me- Vriska: 8ut you can't marry him! Kanaya: And Why Not? Vriska: 8ecause- 8ecause he's just marrying you so he can 8e king! Eridan: outrageous! kan, don't listen to her. Vriska: he's not your true love. Kanaya: And What Do You Know About True Love? Vriska: well, i- Vriska: uh- Vriska: i mean-- Eridan: oh, this is precious. Eridan, chuckling: the bitch has fallen in lovve with the princess! oh, good lord! Gamzee: WrItEs A cUe CaRd ReAl QuIcK The Crowd: is laughing Eridan: a backwwater troll and a princess! laughing continues Kanaya: Vriska? Is This True? Eridan: wwho cares? it's preposterous! kanaya, my lovve, wwe're but a kiss awway from our "happily evver after." noww, kiss me! mmmm! Kanaya, whispering: "By Night One Way, By Day Another." Kanaya: Fucking Busts Out Every Bit Of Gay Apparel And Paraphernalia She Just Happened To Be Hiding Under Her Dress Kanaya: I Wanted To Show You Before. crowd gasping Vriska: well, uh, that expl8ns a lot! Eridan: ugh! sheā€™s disgusting! felts! felts! i order you to get that out of my sight noww! get them! get them both! The Felt: starts manhandling them Kanaya: No, No! Vriska! Eridan: this hocus-pocus alters nothing. this marriage is binding, and that makes me king! Eridan, putting the crown on his head: see? see?? Kanaya: No, Let Go Of Me, Vriska! Vriska: no! Eridan: don't just stand there, you morons. Vriska: get out of my way! kanaya! aaaaaaaarrgh! Eridan: i'll make you regret the day wwe met. i'll see you drawwn and quartered! you'll beg for death to savve you! Kanaya: No! Vriska! Eridan: and as for you, my wwife, Vriska: Kanaya! Eridan: i'll have you locked back in that towwer for the rest of your days! Eridan: i am king! Vriska: whistles Eridan: i will have order! i will have perfection! i will have-- Terezi: R1D3S 1N W1TH JOHN, US1NG H3R MOTORCYCL3 TO K1CK 3R1D4N OUT 4 W1NDOW Eridan: noooooo! John: All right! nobody move, i got a Terezi here, and i'm not afraid to use it! Terezi: RO4RS John: I'm a windsock on the edge! Terezi: R3VS TH3 MOTOR 4S SH3 C4TCH3S 3R1D4NS CROWN John, laughing: Celebrity marriages. they never last, do they? The Crowd: cheers John: Go ahead, Vriska. Vriska: uh, kanaya? Kanaya: Yes, Vriska? Vriska: i-- i love you. Kanaya: Really? Vriska: really, really. Kanaya: I Love You Too Vriska and Kanaya: Kiss Gamzee: WrItEs AnOtHeR cUe CaRd FoR sWoOnInG Everyone: aawww! Kanaya: Starts Glowing, Like A Lightbulb, Now Fully Embracing Her Gayness Vriska: kanaya? kanaya. are you all right? Kanaya: Well, Yes. But I Dont Understand. Im Supposed To Be Beautiful. Vriska: 8ut you are 8eautiful. Kanaya: chuckles John: I was hoping there would be a happy ending. Vriska: puts her hand over the script as we pan to her hive

Dave: starts singing ā€œi'm a believerā€ by smash mouth as kanaya and vriska have a proper wedding this time

The Fucking End

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ismaet

Housekid AU Part 4

Idea: Casita raises Mirabel

  • Julieta is Busy. Very Busy. Busy making sure the people of Encanto are healthy. Busy stopping outbreaks of diseases due to weak, untrained immune systems before they could go any bigger. Busy cooking food all day and night so she could fulfill her job in the first place. Busy, Busy, Busy.
Agustin is Busy. Very Busy. Busy assisting his wife in the kitchen. Busy assisting his wife in whatever errands she had for the day. Busy providing her ovens with the right amount of firewood. Busy, Busy, Busy.
Julieta and Agustin are very Busy.
The kitchen's practically their Room now.
The only breaks they ever get are during sleep, eating times, and for hygiene.
And even those are tainted with work.
Sleep filled with the worries of tomorrow's tasks. Eating times filled with new orders chores being handed out. Heck, their baths are hardly baths at all. It's all as quick as one reasonably can make; because the more time passes that they aren't in the kitchen, the more time accidents and incidents are allowed to happen without Julieta's Gift as a Safety Net.
The more time reasons for her MamĆ” to double her workload are tempted to manifest.
She can't have that.
She can't handle any more.
So, Julieta works extra hard to not make any mistakes- to not have any delays or interruptions. Everything that's to be done is done; nothing more, nothing less. The Encanto is counting on her. MamĆ” is counting on her.
(It's tiring, but at least she isn't alone. Agustin is always by her side, and she sometimes gets to see her two daughters whenever their chores intersect in time and place. Those are always the best of days: when the four of them are together. Even for the briefest of minutes.
But lately, there's been something nagging at the back of Julieta's mind. There's been something that makes her heart plummet in that certain kind of fear; that raises her adrenaline in that familiar rush that often comes in the wake of a big epiphany. Specifically, the realization that she's forgotten something. Something important. Something very important apparently, because the feeling is slowly increasing in intensity with each passing day.
You've forgotten something. You've forgotten something. You've forgotten something. You've forgotten somethingYou'veforgottensomethingYou'veforgottensomethingYou'veforgottenYou'veforgottenforgottenforgottenforgottenforgOTtENFoRGOTtEnFORGOTTEN-
Did she?)
Perspective shift
  • A lot happened during the weeks following Abuelita's suggestion.
For one, Mirabel finally finished her new dress. It was still mostly white- she was her MamĆ­'s kid, after all -but now it also has splashes of her Tio's green in the form of a scarf tied around her waist, the hourglass pattern line from his old Ruana lining the hem of her skirt, the tassles and frills at the bottom and underside of said skirt, and finally the new Glamour Bandana around her neck.
Seeing that she was going though a wardrobe change, she had decided to take the chance to ditch her old Glamour Ruana after her hermano's report of the accidental mind-screwing (plus sometimes it flies to cover her eyes during roof-runs; she now knows how it feels to land on the pavement face first), and also because of the fact that it was beginning to be too small for her.
Her brother had then suggested the bandanna as a replacement- because it was small and practical and subtle -and from there, the Glamour Bandanna was born.
"Are you sure this won't scramble my brain anymore?"
"I already said sorry, Yano!"
(Her Tio Bruno also cried for a good 40 minutes upon seeing her new dress, but that was to be expected. Don't worry though; Mirabel hugged and cuddled him, Mariano dug up his twistiest plotlines to share a laugh over, Abuelita made him tea, and Casita hummed a calming tune with her tiles. Their efforts washed the tears away, but the proud smile at seeing his ratoncita wearing his color remained smugly stuck on his face for the rest of the year.)
Next, in a discussion over Bruno's potential alter egos for public usage, attention was brought to Casita's lack of a last name. The matter, surprisingly, offended Senora Rosa Guzman; and the woman immediately sought to remedy it.
By offering her original apellido.
"Mi hermana, you're alive. You deserve, at the very least, a last name. So... if it isn't too forward, and you haven't picked one yet... you can use my maiden one. This way, not only will you have a complete nombre, we'd finally be sisters in name as well."
The loud explosion of motion around Mirabel's Lantern following that declaration was a resounding acceptance, and the youngest Madrigal added to the chaos by cheering for her mother's new apellido. (Idly, she wondered if 'Mirabel Valentina Rojas Guzman Milagros Madrigal' was too long a name now. It probably was, but honestly, she could care less. Her mother and Abuelita were 'officially' sisters now! That was the more important thing in this situation!)
Then finally, her Tio being public ready after weeks of preparation. The costumes for his rats were done, his stage-stand was primed, and his stories were proof-read and as riveting as ever.
Mirabel had also finished the enchanted threadwork for glamour needed on his cape (similar to her bandanna), and so with the added bonus of her mother gleefully, proudly letting her Tio have her new last name as his alter ego's- Oscar Milagros:The Storyteller was born.
"Hey, look at you, Tio!"
"Go Tio!"
"Knock their socks off, Brunieto!"
Suffice it to say, this year had been quite busy for the Guzman-Milagros-Madrigal Bunch, but they wouldn't have it any other way.
Bonds were tightening, connections were strengthening, skills were flourishing; the little family was thriving.
(And Casita couldn't help but preen proudly at the fact that she was the catalyst to all of this. She had set out to raise and take care of her Little Miracle, and she had done it. Her daughter won't ever be alone and unloved now
especially if something bad were to happen to her.)
  • Bruno's first show was held near the outskirts of town.
Not only did that fact allow him a small sample size of a viewing audience as a field test- as well as give the illusion that he came from outside of the Encanto with the usual traders -it was also away from Madrigal Traffic.
Because Alma Madrigal was always one for appearances, and that made her focus on the central part of town- unintentionally neglecting the Outskirts.
(They exploited that fact with unparalleled glee.)
So they dragged his wheeled stage-stand into one of the plazas, took a step back, and allowed Oscar Milagros to come out and play.
Later, Mirabel would be happy to report (read: Recall. They were all present for her Tio's first show) that it was a hit.
People were instantly drawn in by her Tio's natural air of mystique and playfulness. His new special way of speaking kept them in place just as much as the words conveying his tale. The weirdness and cuteness derived from his use of costumed rats in conjunction with his gorgeous painted backgrounds only added to his unique charm.
The hook of his Pilot episode certainly didn't hurt the positive reception either. From the current reactions, she couldn't wait to see how'd the Town would handle the biggest plot twist in Season 1.
All in all, it was a promising start. And as weeks went by with an episode every couple of days, it was clear that it'll only be uphill from there.
"Senor Oscar! Senor Oscar! What's gonna happen next?!"
"Ay, Oscar! You better give Georgia what she deserves!"
"I knew it! I called it!"
"Hey Oscar! They aren't really related, are they?"
"Senor Oscar! Can I play with your rats?"
"Oye, Oscar! Here's some cheese for your actors. They did a good job during Episode 24!"
"Oscar please tell me they'd get together! I can't handle the suspense!"
"No! No fucking way! That wasn't- wait. That was what that foreshadowing meant?!"
"Oscar hijo! Have a drink- that episode was more emotional than usual, eh?"
"Hey Oscar! When you showing at other parts of town? I have a couple of amigos interested over at the East side!"
"Guys, guys! Senor Oscar's here! He's here!"
The audience had even started throwing money at the end of each episode- which Tio Bruno originally declined, but in the end accepted to use for funding the show and repaying Abuelita despite her protests.
Mirabel took note of her Tio's growing self-confidence- his wide smile, carefree movement, much more expressive self; and smiled.
Yeah, he was going to be fine.
(The Lantern Burns, a little stronger.)
Perspective shift
  • It's almost Mirabel's birthday again (Ay Dios Mio, how time flies!), and Rosa Guzman has a Plan.
Ever since Little Mirabel found them (or more accurately, was led to) at the tender age of 6 and became her student in all things concerning the needle and thread, the woman has learned a lot about her adopted nieta.
(Never before has she felt the urge to strangle an old friend so strongly.)
The most relevant to her Plan though, was the fact that the little butterfly had to run from La Casa Madrigal all the way to La Casa Guzman and vice versa, every single day. Either on the roads, or on the rooftops.
It was good exercise yes- little Mirabel had the body of an athlete hidden under all that baby fat -but surely doing so so often, not to mention all the chaos that she usually falls into between each run, would be tiring?
And so thus, the Plan.
Casita's physical form would always be her home even if the family within it isn't, of course. But giving her precious Mirasol one of the guest rooms in the house for times she's too exhausted to make the trip would make for a good birthday present, no? Her own place in the house that isn't the Sewing Room. (She could even do the same for her darling Brunieto!) Oh, just thinking about all the benefits of such an arrangement for her beloved nieta makes her all the more excited to start.
And so, start she did.
The rooms themselves were already ready to house a person, so besides being a bland blank canvas (that would be absolutely bursting with color once her nieta was done with it, she was sure), she didn't have to worry about that front.
What all she really needed to do was get her Mirasol material and furniture to decorate her new room with, clean said room of dust, and go to Senor Alfonso downtown to commission for a personalized doorknob.
She had noticed that trend with all the Madrigal Doors- their doorknobs carved with the first letter of their name -and figured her nieta would like to have her own.
(Casita telling her that the Nursery's handle was only a dull, common knob was merely more motivation and more disappointment and sadness and anger and offense.)
The first two tasks were easy. All she had to do was keep the material and furniture in their supply crates and store them in the room during the evening (after she cleaned it, of course) when her nieta was at La Casa Madrigal.
The third one though...
"Really, Mama?!" Mariano's face was indescribably excited. At her fond nod, he beamed before saluting.
"You can count on me!"
Then he rushed off, grabbing his machete from the wall and practically burst into the Sewing room, eliciting an adorable yip of surprise from his hermanita.
"Yano wha-"
"Miraposita! Break! Mama's got a sudden errand to attend to! Wanna go Scouting with me?!"
Poor little Mirabel blinked at him a few times in confusion, but quickly recovered with a big, wide smile. Ah, they'll never get enough of that sight, will they?
"Really?!"
"Really! Race you to Montana View Point!" With his challenge made, Mariano ran to the nearest balcony, jumped on the railings, and climbed onto the roof with a masterful flip. Mirabel- with a bit of a scuffle to gently put away the piece she'd been working on and an indignant 'HEY!' -was right behind him, face set and her bag glowing extra bright as Casita shifted a few planks to allow her an unbroken sprint.
Seconds later, as Rosa watched her children fade into flitting dots above the rooves against the horizon; the woman smirked triumphantly.
Time to get that doorknob made.
Perspective shift
  • There's definitely something going on with the Lantern.
Casita hummed, feeling out that piece of her intertwined with her daughter's soul. Already, it's starting to feel less her and more Mirabel's; which was great! Not only would that strengthen both her Candelita and the Lantern's flame, it would also give Casita more of a leg to stand on when claiming the youngest Madrigal as a daughter.
(Unnoticed, Mirabel's image on The Madrigal Family Portrait slowly fades away. Bruno's is not far behind.)
But anyway; ever since Mirabel and Mariano's acknowledgement of their siblinghood, the Lantern Candle's Flame had suddenly switched from being just a window she can reach out from into a whole entire room. It's been storing energy, using energy, increasing little by little in magical strength- and for once, Casita doesn't have the faintest idea why. Actually, that's a lie, she does have a theory, but- it's too early to tell. Though if it is going that way...
Casita grinned.
She can't wait.
Perspective shift
  • Bruno understands, but he can't help but worry.
"Ay, little listener. What's the, what's the problem? Rain is beautiful but your clouds are so dark."
His little Bat hums tiredly, a half-heartedly eaten arepa in her hands. Her hair is loose and free, as his hands need them to be in order for a comb.
It's only a few minutes after his show today, after all. They've got time.
Brush, pull, brush, fluff. Her hair's smooth, silky. The sensation is funny.
"Tio...I've, I've been..." Her voice is smaller than usual.
"Hmm?"
"...it's her 8th soon." There's sadness, longing.
"You have a gift ready?" An out.
"We're up to 3 years now." Ah, he's always known she was as stubborn as her mother. She's started it, she's seeing it through. There's pride in his chest.
"They're up to 3 years. They forgot. We didn't. You didn't."
Gratitude flashes in her eyes. It's quick to be drowned. "She doesn't know though."
Bruno grins. "But she could."
There's fear. Of rejection, specifically. Of hate. It's irrational, Bruno thinks, considering his Mouse is involved.
"Isn't it too late?" Her voice had no business being that meek.
It doesn't suit her.
"We never stopped though, Little Bat. Even with, with me in Casita's walls. Even with you in MamĆ”'s noose. Never missed a birthday. We've got perfect attendance. Mira's just not the Monitor for yours."
He thinks of the flashes of surprise, suspicion, recognition, and dangerous hope in his Mouse's eyes whenever she received one of Dolores' gifts under the guise of them being from Bruno.
He thinks of his Mouse going the extra mile for Dolores' gifts on her birthdays; more than for any other family member (except him).
He thinks- he hopes, really -that they might have a new family member soon.
"But she'd love to be, I feel," He grabs her red ribbon and begins tying, "She'd love to see your record."
A tight pull, a quick fluff. His sobrina's beautiful.
A bite on the arepa. "You think so?"
A smirk. "I know so."
There's... nervousness. Jittering. And then it's gone. An inhale, an exhale, one final breath; and determination replaces.
It doesn't go away.
"I should have enough of Abuela's trust by now," She breathes out, "That I, I could make it. I would make it. But- But I don't have a gift yet. I mean, I do but- it's not, it's- nothing worthy for this." The end is an octave higher.
Bruno laughs.
His smile is a little mad.
"Oh, little Bat. Your presence would be a gift enough."
Perspective shift
  • It's Mirabel's 8th birthday, and La Casa Guzman came alive in more ways than one.
Loud, enthusiastic greetings and songs. Impromptu dances. A flour fight in the kitchen while they were baking Mirabel's cake. A scuffle-tickle-wrestling fight in the same kitchen while they were trying to clean it up. A water fight in the bathroom while they were getting cleaned up. Playing dress-up in Mariano's room and the whole debacle ending with them somehow making a patch that striped the boy's hair with a fitting yellow and a scarf that made him look like a girl version of himself. Playing weirdly complicated but very engaging games in the living room with Casita as their Gamemaster, the whole event evolving into a full-on story/play that Bruno immediately wrote down for a possible side-show. A singing competition after Mirabel playfully mocked Mariano's latest poems for not rhyming, and the boy broke out into song in response. A race across the whole of Encanto after the two kids (and one magical entity) were kicked out so that the rest of the food could be made without chaos.
All-in-all, a normal day for the Guzman-Milagros family; and Mirabel wouldn't have it any other way.
(The Lantern Sparks. The Candle Shudders. Casita pauses, and anticipates.)
When they were finally allowed back, the sight that greeted them can only be described by the word 'cosy'.
The dining table was all set up and ready, filled with delicious food enough for all of them. Around the living room were colorful decorations: flags, triangles, stars, banners, streamers- but none too bright or too flashy. They just put a lot more pop of contrast against the warm clay brown of the walls, emphasizing that while there was a celebration, it was still home. There were also more pillows than usual and even a few blankets on the sofas too- as well as a hammock and a thin mattress on the floor next to the fireplace -just for good measure.
They already had their rambunctious fun in the morning, after all, so now it was time for quiet.
(And considering what was probably going to happen in the next few minutes, the reprieve was very much needed.)
The cake was not yet done though, so Mirabel and Mariano took that chance to rest and cuddle by the fireplace; Bruno later joining them with a cup of Chocolate SantafereƱo and a half-bitten BuƱuelo. They shared a few stories, a few jokes- a fight over Bruno's BuƱuelo almost happened and the only saving grace had been the fact that the siblings were tired: typical bonding activities of the GuzmƔn-Milagros'.
The calm, amused quiet that followed that almost-fight was later pleasantly broken by Abuela Rosa's beautiful voice.
"CumpleaƱos feliz," She sang softly, emerging from the kitchen with a two-layer white cake covered in colorful frosting and 8 candles, "CumpleaƱos feliz!"
Mariano and Bruno shared a glance before putting on two happy grins. "Te deseamos todos!" They eagerly led their little Mirabel to the table, putting her on the head chair that Casita provided with a few tile shifts.
"CumpleaƱos feliz!" All three elders finished, the result of their efforts a little girl with teary eyes and a brilliant smile on her face.
"GraciƔs," Mirabel managed, "GraciƔs."
"Happy Birthday, Hermanita." Mariano smiled, pointing to the candles with a tilt of his head. "Go on; make a wish!"
Abuelita lightly smacked her son by the bicep, earning a giggle from the birthday girl. "Let her have the moment, mi pequeno Ciervo. Your stomach can wait."
"Ay but MamĆ”! Your AjĆ­ de Aguacate!" Mariano half-joked, half-whined; sending a wink to his sister before fully immersing himself in the argument of the ethics of using manipulation to get to eat food faster.
When Bruno joined the bickering seconds later, Mirabel couldn't help but close her eyes and relish in the feeling of having her family's voices all around her. It was nice. The subtle but always-there hum of her MamĆ­'s magic slowly seeping into La Casa Guzman, the presence of her family members, the bond underneath all their playful arguments and insults, the warmth of their love from the bodies surrounding her to the food and decorations- it was all so... home, that Mirabel wanted to bawl.
Her her bigger family La Familia Madrigal was a big family. But it never felt like one, barring very few, very rare moments. Everyone was almost always separated, lost in the monotony of their work, that even during Family meals- it was all just chores, chores, chores. It was all about the image of a perfect family; rather than striving to be as close as they can to being one. The connections were flimsy, superficial. Dios, they even forgot about her!
(Idly, unknowingly, instinctually; she thinks of cracks covered in desperate plaster, slathered with layers of substandard paint.)
(Casita startles. The Lantern gives an almost playful spark. The Candle trembles.)
La Familia Guzman-Milagros, though? A small family of 5? With half of them not even related? The bonds are tight, thick. No matter how far away each member are from each other, they never feel alone. The... there-ness, of each person is ever present. It's impossible to ignore- not that anybody ever wanted to. There was love, there was care; and it was warm.
(When Mirabel blew out her candles, her wish was plain on her face.)
Surprisingly, the birthday dinner was calm- for Guzman-Milagros standards, at least. Mariano hogged all of the AjĆ­ de Aguacate but Abuelita Rosa managed to stop him before he could get a stomach ache. Bruno accidentally dipped an arepa in hot sauce and only survived because Casita got him some milk. Mirabel choked on a candle that Mariano somehow included with the cake slice he gave. The more exciting stories they'd saved for this event finally got told, helped by a couple of Bruno's rats for practice. There were also a few close calls to a 4-way food fight- over the argument of whether or not coconuts were of mammalian nature, no less -but Abuelita, amazingly, halted those with just a single raised eyebrow and the Look Of Disappointmentā„¢ brimming behind her eyes.
(Casita feels excitement. The Lantern's about to put on a show.)
Before they knew it, they had cleaned up the table, and it was finally time for presents.
(Mariano and his Mother shared excited glances.)
The two men of the family went first, with the more theatrical one revealing his box with a graceful flourish of his cape. Bruno's gift is a custom pocket watch; polished silver for the casing, green glass for the face, and the intricate butterfly designs inlaid in gold. The words 'Las arenas se arremolinan, pero el desierto es un rĆ­o' are expertly carved on the side.
"'The sands swirl, but the desert's a river'," Mirabel read, gently tracing the words. Bruno smiled.
"It's to remind you," His hand seek her hair and he obliges, "that the Future is always changing. It's to remind you, that however worse the sandstorm is, it isn't still. It's to remind you, that you should always push forward, no matter how hard it may be." He looks her in the eye. For a second, green glows in tandem with gold.
"It's to remind you," There's a lilt in his soft voice; a lilt perhaps of mischief? Fondness? Joy? Love? "that I See by the sand, and thus so you should never worry when traversing it, because I will always be there by your side, as your eyes and as your guide."
It takes a minute for Mirabel to calm down.
(The Lantern sparks. It's Bright.)
After cooing at the adorable Sobrina-Tio moment, the youngest of the two men finally stepped forward and his grin is something fierce. Mariano's gift is a small machete (What? Tia Casita told me I could! Mira will be fine, Mama!)- engraved with Mirabel's name and with a sheath made of the best leather for her enchanted embroidery.
"Two more years and they'd let you join me out there," Mariano said, watching as his sister admired her new blade, "and by then you'll have needed to have your own bolo. So I got you one! You're the best dance partner I've ever had, hermanita. I can't wait."
Mirabel's beaming smile rivaled the shine of her machete's polish.
(The Lantern sparks. It's Brighter.)
It's now Abuela Rosa's turn, and Mirabel could feel the atmosphere shift. Like... the world itself was holding it's breath- excited and nervous for whatever laid inside the innocuous small wrapped box.
"Mijita preciosa," The elder woman began, "I've had the honor and pleasure of calling you one of my own for two years now, and hopefully for more. You've thrived under my care, and we as well in your company. La Casa Guzman became a home for you," Her smile is mischievous, "And I think it's about time to make that official, no?"
"Abuelita?"
"Come with me, Mirasol." Gently, the Guzman Matriarch led the Madrigal Heir to the bedroom wing, escorted by their two men. They passed through Abuela's, then Mariano's- until finally, they came to a stop in front of one of the guest rooms.
A dangerous feeling burst inside of Mirabel's chest as she realized that the door had no doorknob.
That feeling only doubled when Mariano left her tail with a realizing Bruno in tow, both of them then positioning themselves on each side of the door.
"Abuelita?" Mirabel asked again, tears in her eyes and a desperate, reluctantly reigned-in hope in her voice.
The elder woman's smile was all love.
"Happy Birthday, mi pequeƱa Mirabel," the box that had been taunting her all walk was finally placed in her hands, "Welcome Home."
Shakily, the little girl unraveled the ribbon and lifted the cover.
Inside was the most beautifully crafted golden doorknob she'd ever seen.
Fully trembling now, she grasped the object with as much care as she could while emotions of all kinds and intensity were roiling around inside her poor little heart, her fingers tracing the monogrammed 'M' over and over and over again- as if just to prove to herself that it was real.
She didn't know how long she spent in the trance, or how her tears were big and flowing, but when she finally looked up and saw the patience and love in her family's eyes, she realized it didn't matter. They knew how important this was to her, how needed- and they let her have her moment.
She loves them so much.
"What are you waiting for, hermanita?" Mariano softly half-teased, "Your Door is waiting."
Her Door.
An actual Door to an actual Room.
A Room that was all her own.
It shouldn't have felt like the few steps needed to be closer took years to accomplish, but it did. Mirabel looked at the doorknob again- one last check, one last check -and saw...
Herself.
With her family right behind her.
(The Lantern goes wild. It sparks. It burns. It-)
A happy sob, and finally the doorknob is clicked into place.
(It's gold.)

(Reblog for Part 5! Sorry this took long; School punched me in the gut and had us have the 3rd Mastery Test 2 weeks after the First Day of class when even our LMS is still desert empty. Hope you enjoy!)

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When Aang asked,Ā ā€œBut why would I choose cosmic energy over Katara?ā€

and when Hakoda told his daughter,Ā ā€œYou and your brother are my entire worldā€

and when Katara said,Ā ā€œI thought you didnā€™t want to helpā€ and Sokka replied,Ā ā€œYou need me, and I will never turn my back on youā€

and when Toph asked, ā€œDo you really think friendships can last more than one lifetime?ā€ and Aang replied, ā€œI donā€™t see why notā€

and when Sokka said, ā€œItā€™s Suki!ā€ and later she said,Ā ā€œI knew youā€™d comeā€

and when Mai looked Azula in the eye and declared, ā€œBecause I love Zuko more than I fear youā€ and then Ty Lee saved her a moment later without a second thought

and when Iroh grabbed Zuko in a hug before he could even finish his apology and told him ā€œI was never angry with you.Ā  I was sad because I was afraid you lost your wayā€Ā 

and when Aang turned to Zuko when the battle was finally over and said,Ā ā€œAnd now weā€™re friendsā€ and Zuko agreed with a look that was almost akin to wonder,Ā ā€œYeah, we areā€

ā€¦thatā€™s love !!

Alsooo, when Katara brought Aang out of the avatar state within a couple days of knowing him by saying, ā€œThe airbenders may be gone now, but you still have a family. Ā Sokka and I, weā€™re your family nowā€

and when Aang realized the crazy king of omashu was actually his old friend from a hundred years before and said,Ā ā€œBumi, youā€™re a mad geniusā€

and when the gaang was stranded in the desert without Appa and Katara declared ā€œWeā€™re getting out of this desert, and weā€™re going to do it together!ā€Ā 

and when Katara turned to Toph and said ā€œI know it doesnā€™t matter, but youā€™re really prettyā€

and when the last two Freedom Fighters stood guard as Jet was dying underneath Lake Laogai and Longshot said,Ā ā€œWeā€™ll take care of him.Ā  Heā€™s our leader.ā€

and when Aang buried his face in Appaā€™s fur for the first time in weeks and said, ā€œI missed you buddyā€

ā€¦thatā€™s love too !!

When Sokka held on to Tophā€™s hand as she dangled over the edge of the airship for as long as he could, even if it meant heā€™d be killed too.

When the entire Gaang greated Sokka with an ecstatic group hug when he came back from training with Piandao.

When Kya told Yon Ra that she was the last waterbender, knowing she would be imprisoned or worse, to save Katara.

When Bato helped Sokka and Katara fulfill their right of passage in Hakodaā€™s absence.

When Aang, when he needed a Fire Nation alias, named himself after one of his old best friends.

When Toph asked Katara to help her write to her parents because, despite everything, she still missed them and wanted them to know she was happy and well.

When Zuko faced Ozai in prison, not to gloat or parade his victory, but to learn about his mother.

When Ty Lee, risking imprisonment or worse, defended Mai against Azula.

Justā€¦this showā€¦so full of every conceivable form of loveā€¦

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batfamfucker

Atla will always be one of the best things ever šŸ’™

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Can I be honest, I think if we went back in time and told that ā€œMYRRH-DERā€ ā€œ*gasp* Judas! No!ā€ joke to a group of medieval peasants they would completely and utterly lose their shit. They would be grabbing each other and crying with laughter. idk I just love the thought of a joke created through a modern, 21st century medium being accessible and enjoyable for devout practising Catholics hundreds of years ago

Youā€™d be burned as a heretic, but sure, imagine theyā€™d laugh.

No, you really wouldnā€™t.

When I wrote this post I specifically had in mind the liturgical plays enjoyed by medieval folks, especially from the 14th century onwards. These plays were once performed at liturgies, in Latin, under the direction of the priest or bishop, but later became plays that were enjoyed on the village green, recited in English, and performed and produced by players. Gradually, more and more comedic and farcical elements crept into the plays, because thatā€™s what audiences loved and demanded.

They would tell the lives of saints and Bible stories such as the Fall of Man, Noahā€™s Ark and the Nativity. Because plays were enjoyed at carnivals and because religious spirit and merrymaking arenā€™t incompatible, certain characters became humorous and stereotyped. For example, Noahā€™s wife was a shrew who would smack her husband to get him into the ark, Herod was a ludicrous, blustering tyrant and poor old Joseph was particularly derided and used as comic relief, especially in the Nativity plays. Apparently, being cuckolded by God was not the way to appeal to a medieval man, though he would gain respect after the Reformation.

In the context that medieval peasants watched and loved ribald and slightly irreverent liturgical plays, something that would later evolve into the English stage as we know it in Shakespeare, it is entirely accurate and harmless to think that during a Nativity play the last wise man might say ā€œI bring thee myrrā€¦ā€ and after Jospeh has thanked him, he would unmask to reveal his red hair (sorry guys Judas was ginger) and exclaim ā€œMYRR-DRE!ā€ causing Joseph to gasp and cry ā€œJUDAS!! NAY!!ā€ and probably trip over himself falling backwards, to the unparalleled surprise and delight of the devout medieval peasants who, guess what, still have a damn sense of humour.

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lostsometime

i read some medieval mystery plays this semester. thereā€™s one where mary, having pregnancy cravings, is likeĀ ā€œoh, husband, wonā€™t you go get me some cherries from that tree there?ā€

and joseph basically saysĀ ā€œeh, that tree is really tall and I donā€™t want to. how about you ask the guy that got you knocked up to get you the cherries?ā€

and the tree ~miraculously bends down~~ so she can eat them

and joseph is likeĀ ā€œwell shitā€

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toastoat

ā€œummmmm ur bra strap is showing :/ ā€

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ironicbaking

i thought this was me at first and i was really confused

omg hi

WEā€™RE MULTIPLYING

uhhhhhhh

hey

I FINALLY FOUND IT

Found what?

This Legendary post

This post is a gem and you have to reblog it or else you lose it

Someone confirm that these are all different people.

itā€™s here itā€™s on my dash!!

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sti1es

seeing ancient tumblr posts in the flesh rather than in screenshots has the same energy as seeing an infamous relic in a museum for the first time

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clickerpunk

I made another 'please stop destroying my house' toy

i wanted to reblog this as an awesome example of a homemade puzzle toy! i know weā€™ve linked to a lot of buyable puzzle toys, but even if youā€™re on a budget you can make something great at home with stuff you have on hand. this whole thing is made with cardboard so itā€™s fine if your cat chews on it and there are lots of nooks and crannies to put treats or dry kibble in!

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reblogged
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ismaet

Housekid AU Part 3

Idea: Casita raises Mirabel

Perspective shift
  • Mirabel was the first to break. Again.
She had been making Kuya Mariano a looser shirt (his Guard training was giving him so much muscle it's getting ridiculous) one afternoon, finishing off the last of the adaptation stitches (she loved making him new clothes but repairing the arms everyday was such an annoyance) along with some cleaning ones, when the 13 year old himself strolled into the sewing room holding two cups of Chocolate SantafereƱo.
He sat down beside her with a heavy thud, then whistled in appreciation at the elaborate bucks prancing on flower paths stitched in a beautiful asymmetric pattern from the shirt's shoulders down to the waist.
"Ay, Miraposita! You're getting better everyday!" He smiled, offering her one of the cups as he gently ran his fingers over the finished parts of the embroidery. "It's so cool!"
Maybe it was the sweet smell of the drink, maybe it was the soothing tiredness that came with accomplishing a task, or maybe it was the genuine appreciation in his tone for her work- Mirabel will never know.
"You really think so, hermano?"
Not missing a beat- because he's big old, adorably dumb, supportive and caring Mariano -the older boy nodded furiously (not at all noticing Mirabel's panic). "Of course! Look at the detail! The color and- see? The shine! You're so talented, hermanita!"
Then with a wide smile, his hand reached out and ruffled her curls.
"I can't wait to wear it!!!"
(Her mother was laughing at her, she just knew it. If she didn't then, she definitely did when the same thing happened with Senora Guzman and it took poor Mirabel until 3am in the morning to realize.)
"Good night, Abuelita!"
"Buenas noches, nieta!"
Mirabel, 8 hours later, waking up in a cold sweat: "Wait-"
(Ugh, Mami! Can't you see I'm busy dying inside?)
  • Somehow, the acknowledgement of siblinghood between the Guzman boy and the youngest Madrigal girl made the following months a hectic storm of fun, bizarre, and strangely educational chaos.
With the increased comfort they had in each other's presence, Mirabel had taken to teaching Mariano parkour, while Mariano had taken to pulling a Casita and deciding that teaching an almost 7-year-old how to use a machete was good payment for her free-running lessons.
Suffice it to say, they had given Senora Guzman more than enough near heart attacks to last a lifetime.
"Hermano! You think you can jump that?"
"Mira! You gotta swing- no, not like- yeah! That! Put all your weight into it! You gotta mean it!"
"Yano, no, you have to duck your head and roll. And- wait! Don't land on your heels!"
"Swing! Up! Down! Swing it, Mira! Swing! Woah, don't over do it- ACK!"
"Catch me, hermano! Ha! You think you can just- wATCH ThE TILE!"
"Okay, just like that, you have to take good care of your machete, otherwise you're just gonna be swinging around an extra hard piece of wood."
"Repeat after me- Yano, please -Don't lock your knees. Ever. ĀæComprender? Buena."
"Okay, it just occurred to me that you are small (Wha- ow! Hey! It's true!). So, how about you try moving your entire body with the swing, not just your arm? Like...hmm... come here, Mira, let's try this..."
"Yeah, yeah! That's it, hermano! Fly, Fly!"
"Dance with me, hermanita. Let your blade sing."
Of course, they didn't stop with just Parkour or Machete fighting- no no. Mirabel then taught Mariano the art of sneaking around, making his footsteps so light they could be mistaken as the scuttering of rats. Mariano, in turn, taught Mirabel all sorts of things his Papa had taught him: hunting with a bow and arrow, repairing things around the house, riding a horse, etc.
You would often see the two children popping in and out of random points in town, either training a skill or learning a new one. A common occurrence during days when Mira didn't have a sewing lesson was a race from La Casa Guzman to a chosen house. They would take turns on using the rooves, horses, or pure speed and endurance on the roads- sometimes, they'd even get other children to join in on the fun. Now, those days were just an utter maelstrom of befuddlement and confused joy.
Though, no matter how chaotic a day would become, Senora Guzman could always count on her two children to return home safe and sound.
Either it be Mariano carrying his precious sister in his arms, or Mirabel riding a horse with a snoring Mariano securely, comedically tied down behind her- it didn't matter. Both would be images forever imprinted onto the old woman's mind, and she was once again thankful for little Mira's sudden, literal drop into their lives.
What would it have been like, if she hadn't?
  • Casita was very, very pleased with her Candelita's growth. Her threadwork was improving, her Gift was developing quite nicely (she can already feel it shifting sources), and she had even started her ascent to becoming the Madrigal Matriarch- she emotionally adopted two people already!
And that's not even mentioning her better social skills and mental state!
(happypridelove)
Ah, they grow up so fast. One moment she's fumbling with a mop handle and the next she's dancing with machetes.
Hmm... Her little Candelita's birthday is almost upon them again (so soon?). And it wouldn't do anymore, for it to be celebrated by two people alone. But her daughter has yet to reveal her identity- though, not for the lack of trust, mind you. Just simply the lack of a proper moment.
Casita checked the state of her magic.
It's stable enough (though, the piece of her in the Lantern feels strange- she'll have to investigate that later); the Flame's not flickering, the cracks small and slow... it's probable.
Casita grinned then, focusing on young Mariano's location.
Time to make a proper moment.
Her daughter won't have to be alone for another birthday anymore, no senor. Not on her watch.
  • Mariano was panicking.
Did he do it right? Does it look okay? There- that's good right? Wait- is that a strand or- no, that should be darker-
"Mijo," His mother said, amusement in her eyes. "She'll love it." Her hand was a comforting weight on his back.
"She could do better, honestly." Mariano nervously laughed.
"She could," A light tap to his forehead. "But that's not the point now, is it?"
Mariano looked at the door to the sewing room. Then to the calendar. Then back to the door.
"You sure she won't hate it?" He repeated.
"She won't, Mijo."
Seconds ticked by. He inhaled. "Okay."
With only a bit of fumbling, he hid the present behind his back, and knocked on the door.
"Mira?"
"Come in!"
Mariano walked in, eyes instantly drawn to his hermanita's latest work. It was a shawl, dyed different shades of light green in an asymmetric gradient, embroidered with roses of darker emeralds. As always, it was breath taking.
"Hey, Yano! Abuelita!" Mira greeted, smile already putting the almost 14-year-old at ease. She raised the shawl, presenting it in various angles. "What do you think?"
"It's very beautiful, nieta." His mother said, hand reaching over to caress the detailed stitching. "Such threadwork! Who's this for?"
Mira giggled, then with a twirl and a flourish, handed it over to his mama. "Surprise!"
If he wasn't still nervous, Mariano would've laughed at the flabbergasted expression on his mother's face. In the end, he settled for a fond smile.
"For... me?" She asked quietly, grabbing the shawl with a gentleness that should've been reserved for fragile glass. Mariano couldn't blame her. The first professional level stitching Mira had allowed him to handle, he had done the same.
Mira's grin turned a touch bit shy. It was adorable.
"Yeah...um, as thanks? For letting me learn here. For letting me use the sewing room. For the breakfasts and fabrics and -f-fo-for everything. For teaching me." She fiddled with her hands as she anxiously awaited Mama's response. They were probably very sweaty.
Mira didn't need to worry though, Mariano thought as his mama's eyes glistened. The hug that followed between the two certainly confirmed it.
"Oh nieta! Thank you! And it was an honor being your mentor, mi pequena costurera! You were the best student I've ever had! This is beautiful!"
Mariano couldn't help but quip. "She's the only student you've ever had, Mama."
"Even better!"
Mira's laughter was of twinkling bells. There was relief, joy, and- most plentiful -gratitude emanating from her little body as she was spun around and around in his mama's arms, the shawl trailing after her in her grip like ethereal, wispy wings.
That image was what stripped away the last of Mariano's nerves; and so it was with a puff of air that he grinned wide, catching his hermanita's eyes.
"Hey Mira?"
"Heheha- ye-yeah, Yano?"
"You're not the only one with surprises today, you know."
"Huh?" The little seamstress blinked, confused. Mariano's grin got a little bit excited.
"Yep! Last week at training, someone told me something very important. In fact, it was so important I rushed home immediately to do something about it. Do you know why that is?"
Her face should be illegal. It should be against the law to be that cute.
"...No?"
Mariano softened, and with a flourish and a twirl similar to her own just a few minutes ago, presented his gift.
"Happy Birthday, Mira."
A butterfly crown made of yarn, thread, and the softest of fabrics.
His hermanita gasped softly.
Seeing tears, Mariano gently lifted the crown above her head, and placed it upon her curls with the gentleness of the early morning breeze.
Mira's eyes practically sparkled as she looked at her reflection on the mirror mama had prepared. She was beautiful.
"You... made this... for m-me?" She whimpered, echoing the earlier words of her abuelita.
Mariano smiled. "Of course. It's not as good as it could have been, especially if you had done it instead, but... I hope you like it, Mir-oof!"
Who knew the little 7-year-old had such strength?
"Happy birthday, Mira." Mariano repeated as he hugged her back. She was so small, so precious.
Mira's grip was tight. She mumbled something against his shirt.
"Hmm? What was that, hermanita?"
She mumbled it again, a bit louder. He felt something... loosen in his mind. Or- that's not quite the word- perhaps, more accurately, unlOCKeD-WhereDidShECOMEFROMWHO'SFAMILYDOESSHEBELONGTOWHOAREHERPARENTSSHEHASBIGBROWNEYESABIGADORABLENOSESHORTCURLYHAIRSHE'S-
"Mirabel," She looked up at him, afraid, happy, grateful and relieved.
"My name is Mirabel Madrigal. And I love it, hermano, thank you."
(Later, after the revelations, explanations, acceptance and proper celebrations were done, the Lantern Flared- while the Candle Flickered.)
Perspective shift
  • "Knock knock knock knock knock, knock on wood," Casita's little Seer muttered under his breath, watching the Family breakfast the morning after her daughter's 7th birthday.
A birthday that has, like her 6th, not even been noticed.
"Juli, Gus, what are you doing?" He asked, knowing the answer.
His hands rhythmically tapped against his table, quiet enough to be mistaken for the scuttling of rats. The vibrations accidentally knock off a few wood shavings onto the floor.
"Your Butterfly's flying away," He said somberly, sadly, "The Flame's led her to the Deer in the forest, she's leaving, she's leaving."
His hands sought activity- finding it in the chisel that laid inert near an unfinished, yet still beautifully crafted crown. Clearly a labor of love.
"You're not following, you're not, you're not," He lamented. "You should be right beside her, sharing currents, the sky, but you're not. Everyone does, will, have, though. I Saw. Unfair, unfair to her."
He looked at the ceiling.
"Unfair to you. Why didn't you tell them?" He asked again, also still knowing the answer.
Casita clacked her tiles with him in unison.
"You shouldn't have to," He groaned in acceptance, gently dropping the chisel and switching to ruffle his head of hair. "I know, I know, but, but, but- this is a problem, needs, needs to be addressed."
Casita hummed in bitter, sad amusement; then drummed a few bamboo into a question.
Would they listen?
At that, her Seer looks down, hair in a tight grip of frustration.
"Juli, Pepi- they would, they should, but," He trembled, "We wouldn't be having this talk, if, if they did. Too tight. Too tight. Mama's holding too tight. I'm choking, Casita. We're choking, Casita. My mouse, my mouse, she's not, not yet, but the noose is still there, Casita."
He looked up at the ceiling, this time pleading.
"Can I still follow my mouse, Casita? Can I still call her my mouse, Casita? My vision, my vision. Will she know that I left for her, Casita? My mouse, I miss my mouse, Casita. Am I too late, Casita? Is the rat left to rot, away from his mouse, Casita?"
Casita had only one answer.
His door shook, then glowed bright.
(It's about time for the rat to come home.)
Perspective shift
  • Mirabel associated her Tio Bruno with the ticks of a sped up clock. His Gift only justified that fact.
He knocks on his wood, he taps his feet, he clacks a finger against his teeth. It's all quirky little rhythmic ti-ti-ti-ti-tap-taps; his own variation of a custom, really. They signal his presence in a room, they allow you a peek into his current train of thought- it was one of the things that Mirabel loved about her Tio.
"Ay, little Mouse, that's not all. You see, she's also his... Cousin!"
"Knock on wood. Just in case. Do salt, too. If nothing else, it'll hit Camaleon in the eyes. That last prank of his was uncalled for. Hmm? Oh, mi pequena nina, tiny, petty acts of revenge are absolutely allowed."
"Do you see this mierda, my little Mouse? Why would my Gift show me the death of a fish? What? No, it's not April 1st, and my Gift is not sentient."
"The key to being a good performer, little mouse, isn't your skill- no no no. It's Confidence and Flair. You can be the best at acting all you want- but if you're not entertaining yourself or your audience, are you really a performer?"
"Ratoncita, I love you, okay? Gift or no Gift. I love you. I love you. Your Tio loves you. You're my mouse. You're special, mi vida. Nobody's just seeing it yet. But while you wait for them to open their eyes, you also gotta do the same. See yourself. You gotta be one of the first to believe. I already do...."
It was one of the things she missed about her Tio.
...she missed her Tio.
It was nice to know he loved her though. Loved her enough to tell her that fact before leaving.
She sometimes wondered what would've happened if he didn't, though. Would he and Mami raise her together? Or, more funnily, would Mami raise them together? Tio had been very mischievous, after all. Sometimes even rivaling Camilo.
...she missed her Tio.
Sighing, Mirabel puts down the shirt she'd been embroidering for herself for the past few weeks, and stretched; the bones in her spine crackling just right. She then rapidly blinked her eyes to quickly get rid of the extra zoom. They went a little teary.
Ugh, she supposes that was the result of being hunched over and squinting over the tiniest details.
"The devil's in the details, little Mouse. It's the details, the subtext, the double entendre; that hit you where it counts."
Ay, Tio.
Gently caressing the little Hourglasses she had added, she wondered where her Tio was now. Maybe he's started a family, maybe he's alone in a forest, maybe he's still on the road.
Or maybe, Mirabel hoped, he's safe and sound- like the broken clock that reminded her of him in Senor Baltasar's living room. Safe and taken care of.
She hummed.
Maybe it's time she added green to her dress. She'd always been a little bit of her Tio's, even after the Ceremony (He told her so; she can still feel phantom fingers ruffling her curls fondly).
Heh. She could already imagine all the 'fights' he and Mami would have over who got to have the most of their color on her.
Knock knock knock knock knock, knock knock knock- plunk.
Mirabel froze.
Tick-tick-tick, tick-tick-tick, tick.
No way.
Tap, ti-ti-tap-tap, tap.
"A pretty little room for a pretty little mouse. But where's the pretty little mouse for the pretty little room?"
Mirabel had never jumped over her railings so fast in all her life.
  • The next few weeks are spent catching up with each other. Stories upon stories dripped out of their mouths; right into open, eager ears.
But the day they had met again was somehow even longer than that stretch of time- for Bruno, having this as his first direct human to human interaction in the 2 years he spent behind the walls, spilled to Mirabel all he could.
His reason for leaving.
"A vision of you, my precious mouse. Can't tell, can't tell specifics, but you're the catalyst. Save or destroy. Or both. Or none. But you know, you know. Bad luck Bruno. Bad Luck Bruno. Had to leave for you. Couldn't let them know. They'd see you wrong."
His watching of her growth through the walls.
"I saw, and I Saw a lot of you. Proud. Very. Play Pretend with me sometime. I'm, I'm broken a bit, but I still have a little confidence, a little, a little flair, mi preciosa ratoncita. Remember? Remember? Confidence and flair. Also, also, your work, I love it. Casita took care of you good. You're flying high, little butterfly. Could, could this rat ask of his mouse, some of her work? Your magic's warm."
His missing of her two birthdays.
"I hate, hate, that I couldn't give you company. Casita gave you her present, your Gift and Door, and I was happy! Happy for you. But you were also alone. And I was right there. Also your 7th. Not alone anymore. The Deer, they took you in, you took them too. They follow you. Happy, but also sad. I wanted to follow you too. Wanted to follow you so much. Even if only behind walls. But you were far. Couldn't reach you anymore. Asked Casita if I could still follow you. Still worthy, somehow, in her eyes, that she allowed me here. Am I still worthy of you to you though, my little mouse? Am I your rat still? Here, here, your gifts. I made you still. Even with the chance we would never meet. Thought that counts, they say. But, we met. So here, gifts. I love you."
And all throughout this, there were lots of tears. And hugs. And more tears. And more hugs. In fact, one hug lasted so long they both fell asleep in Mirabel's couch, the little girl right on top of her uncle.
(It was a sight Casita had outright demanded of Mirabel's butterflies to immortalise on photo. They were all too happy to comply.)
Ever since then, the two had been attached at the hip, eager to make up for their 2 year separation. Mirabel had informed her brother and grandmother that she had something important to take care of for a while in advance, and thus she was free to dive straight into work.
  • The first thing she had noticed the moment she was emotionally stable enough to had been her uncle's unruly hair, and so that was what she began the recovery and catching up weeks with.
She cut his hair (having learned how on a whim after seeing her abuelita doing it to Mariano) short and clean, helped him shave his beard to a more tasteful state, then later awed at his uncanny resemblance to Abuelo Pedro.
"Huh," Tio Bruno had whispered, almost reverently, as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, "I, I... I think I'll keep this, this look. I'll keep it, Ratoncita."
Next, Mirabel set to make her precious Tio a proper set of clothes. No more too long Ruana, no more same, drab color shirt and pants, and no more of said shirt and pants being way too loose and baggy. No more; not under her watch.
The outfit she eventually settled on was a vest with back tails, a shirt with medium-length arms, slightly form-fitting pants, formal shoes, and a fancy cloak.
All appropriately colored in matching shades of his green, of course.
(And laden to high heaven with protective and locator threads. She's not loosing him again.)
"Confidence," Her uncle had said, awed, as he slowly turned around in front of the mirror; eyes sometimes lingering on the elaborate stitching. Then he suddenly grabbed an edge of his cloak and twisted to strike a sweeping pose, "and Flair."
His grin was wide, a little mad.
"Oh, my creative little mouse. You spoil me sometimes."
And finally, the hard part: helping his body and mind heal from his time in the walls.
Here, Mirabel had asked her Mami for help (she knew enough to know that she can't do it all on her own- she's still a 7-year-old, after all. Raised by a non-human magical entity yes, but a 7-year-old nonetheless), and the entity had been all too happy to oblige.
They began small.
Mirabel sleeping with her Tio at appropriate times in his part of her Room (that she made immediately after learning he's been in the walls) to force him into a healthy sleep schedule as well as help curb his insomnia with company, Casita helping her daughter cook a full meal for every eating time of the day, Mirabel practicing her parkour with her Tio around to force him to learn with her (and thus have exercise) just so he could keep an eye on her better, etc, etc.
Those little manipulations stacked up quite nicely in the 4 months it occurred in, excitingly leading to her Tio having built himself a lean, strong, and agile healthy body. In fact, amazingly, about 5 weeks in, when Mirabel left for her weekly visit to her brother and grandmother, her mother had happily reported that her Tio had set to practice parkour without her presence. It was great news; he was gaining confidence, he was getting better!
Mirabel was proud of her Tio, if you couldn't tell.
And she became even more proud at what happened 3 weeks later: her Tio asking to meet the Guzmans!
"You trust them enough to reveal your identity, little mouse," idly, Mirabel cheered at his recovering speech, "and I trust you and your mother. Besides; I want to meet the family that, that, treated you well. I want to meet your suns. Casita, she's your soil, your shade. I want to meet the people who made you bloom."
Mirabel could barely hold off on just dragging her Tio straight to La Casa Guzman after that little declaration. Could you blame her for being excited at the prospect that her little family (not her bigger one was she still a part of it even?) was becoming one member bigger?
Luckily, her mother set her straight (amusedly), and so that night, she went by 'herself' only- for hopefully the last time -to prepare and explain what might occur in the next few days.
  • Her hermano and her Tio got along like a house on fire (no offense to her Mami).
With one a poet and one a performer/writer (he had to be, with those brilliant telenovelas Mirabel could remember being shown to her before he 'left'), was there ever any doubt?
Their bond had even grown in the same room Mirabel's had with the two Guzmans; in the sewing room of the house (Mirabel found that fact very amusing and awesome).
With Tio freed from the usual tasks that came with trying to survive in the walls of a sentient building by being her Roommate, suddenly there was a lot of Free time in his daily routine. Free time that he immediately spent by sitting with his niece's embroidery classes; at first to also learn, but then slowly devolving to what was essentially competitively making a novel on the spot: excitedly spewing storylines, dialogue trees, character backstories and plot-points with said niece's hermano.
Their growing connection was a sound Mirabel and her Abuelita had quickly found to be the perfect background noise to their sewing; the strands of stories their ears catch as they fade in and out of the zone very captivating, her mother's reactionary clicks and clacks of boards and tiles a varied but charming melody.
Though, personally, the little Madrigal girl found it the best when all 5 were interacting. The chaos created by a family in sync was something she could never get enough of (something she wished for with her bigger fam with the rest of her fam La Familia Madrigal).
It all came to a head though, when 3 months after the initial meeting, Abuelita suggested that Tio Bruno finally go out in public- under a disguise, of course, maybe something like Mirabel's Glamour Ruana except preferably without the accidental mind-screwing (sorry, hermano) -to show off his amazing and often enrapturing plotlines, and the man in question lit up with the younger one right behind him.
"Your stories are too big to have just our little family of five as an audience to enjoy them, Brunieto," Abuelita had cooed, "Besides, the Encanto could use a little excitement, what with all the peace. I believe your 'QuiƩn soy yo para ti' series, especially Season 4 episode 27, would do that quite nicely. Bet you; people will be theorizing about it for days. I still am!" She chuckled.
The look that the two literary-leaning creative males had shared after the suggestion made Mirabel instantly, happily, know that this was it- this was the point of no return.
Mariano's little squeal of "Dios mio, Tio, if we're really doing this, you have to include-" only served to fuel her sudden burst of joy.
(The Lantern Flares, Bright and Fiery.)
Her Tio was now officially part of her little family, and he didn't even notice! Ha! Exactly like she had before!
(The freakout he was going to have the moment he does realize will be a moment Mirabel awaits with baited breath and a tub of popcorn.)
Oh, Mirabel was so happy, she was practically buzzing with energy. Actually, maybe she was! She was warm and all tingly all over! (There's a sheet of electricity right under her skin- it's comforting, it's empowering, it's- it's Magic.)
The fact that they were also going to have their first ever Family project soon (she could hear the word 'costumes' and knew it was gonna be hers and Abuelita's job) was just the delicious cherry on top!
(The Candle Flickers, Sputters, Fragmented. Someone looks on with sadness, worry- and maybe a little bit of disappointment. Someone finds the Lantern's brightness bittersweet.)
  • Casita, while happy at the fact that a Madrigal finally followed the rightful Matriarch, winces as one of the larger cracks in her walls made up for the healing littler ones by deepening. It's hot, it's searing- it's a knife, it's a claw, it's raking it hurts it hurts it hurts ithurtsithurtsdamnyouAlma and it's all she could do to keep her precious Candelita from knowing, noticing. It's too early. There's... There's nothing her Little Miracle could do; not yet at least. Casita screams yelps shouts whimpers groans in pain.
Bear it for her.
Do it for her.
Casita loves them, despite all. Her daughter though especially. So, she Stands. She Stands for them. She Stands a little more for Her. She'll Stand until she cannot anymore.
(It helps though, when her daughter smiles. When her daughter laughs. When her daughter is Bright. Because she knows she's the root cause. Because she knows she made that happen. Because she knows she allowed that to happen. She's raising her right, if nothing else.)
(If she was going to Fail, let it not be at being a Mother.)
------
(Reblog for Part 4! Hope you enjoyed this! I made it extra long to make up for the gap of writing silence. Also, Bruno's here! A Madrigal finally joined Casita's chosen Matriarchal Heir!)
Also Bonus concept art(???) of the Guzman Boy and the Madrigal Girl:
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Housekid AU Part 2

Idea: Casita raises Mirabel

  • Mirabel is now 6 years old, it's 2 am in the morning, there's a note on her bedside table, and the Nursery Door is glowing.
Mirabel had never fully awakened so fast in all her life.
Hastily, she grabbed her glasses and examined the glowing golden letter.
Mi velita preciosa,
Happy Birthday. You are still too young to know the reason why I didn't give you a Gift on your anointed day, but know and believe that it is no fault of yours. You are special, mi vida, Gift or no Gift. You will do great things, with or without one.
But, times are changing. You need a Gift, mi pequena vela. Not because you aren't capable enough on your own- do you remember last week, when you saved yourself from that fall? You achieved the impossible that day: give a magical house a heart attack -
Mirabel giggled through sniffles.
But because it would help you. Increase your odds. You would do just fine without one, more so when you're older, but it would make me feel better. That my magic is always with you. And, let's be honest, you deserve one too. You deserve a Gift, mi vida. And a room of your own.
I am sorry, Candelita, that your Door arrived late. It is because despite not getting a Gift on your Day, I did still give you something. Do you feel that warm buzz under your skin? Do you feel that tingle of comfort? Do you feel that lively energy? That's my magic, mija. I gave you a lot, and I had to recover before giving you a Door.
And it's time. I've recovered.
One last thing though. Don't tell anyone yet. I have much to explain to you first, Candelita. But that will have to come later. It's your special day, after all.
So go on.
Open your Door.
Receive your Gift.
You deserve it.
Happy Birthday, mi vida. I love you.
Blinking the tears out of her eyes, Mirabel hugged the letter tightly. The amount of love she had for the entity possessing her house was indescribable. When was the last time her human mother made her feel this way?
Eventually though, she got off from her bed, and marched up to the glowing Door.
This time, her gait wasn't nervous.
This time, she wasn't alone.
This time, the Door didn't disappear.
This time, it Opened.
  • Mirabel's Room was a more a small house than a room. It had two floors, a big atrium, and a very peculiar design- half of the rooms were walled in, while half (still segmented) were open air. There was a small kitchen, a dining room, a bathroom, a sewing and weaving room, a library, a music room, a training room, and even a small garden.
Oh and also, there were a lot of golden butterflies.
Who turned out to be Mirabel's little helpers; flitting about, keeping the place clean, fetching whatever thing she wanted at the moment or assisting the little girl on whatever project she was working on. Mirabel quickly adopted the swarm, and spent the better half of her birthday exploring her Room (her room! her very own room!).
Then she remembered her mother also gave her a Gift, and there was very little the butterflies could do to keep from laughing at her panicked/excited realization.
  • Mirabel's Gift is basically Rune Magic but through thread. She can give a piece of clothing whatever effect she wants just by sewing the idea/concept onto the thing. The more complicated the effect, the more elaborate the stitching's gotta be. The effect turns on when needed or when worn. It's also self-sufficient, leaching off of the magic in the air, but it can be overwhelmed or weakened enough to the point of being dispelled. To prevent this, the wearer has to take good care of the cloth and thread; if Mirabel cared for them enough to sew the very concept of protection onto their clothing, then they should care for her enough by treasuring her work. If they didn't, then the effect is temporary and will eventually fade away.
(Mirabel learns this through trial and error, her magic giving her just enough nudges to realization via feelings. It was a fun learning experience- one Casita was very happy and proud to witness.)
  • Mirabel's absence from the Nursery was never noticed. Her constant scrapes and bandages and band-aids (because Casita wanted her daughter's body to learn how to heal the normal way) and bruises and wounds were never noticed. Her discarding her blue skirt for a white one that was beginning to be filled to the brim with colorful threads humming with magic was never noticed. Her not being in any photo post-ceremony was never noticed. Her not being at breakfast every morning was never noticed.
(incredulitybetrayalresignationanger)
Well, fine. Casita could care less- she had other things to worry about. Mainly that her daughter was growing up and she shouldn't be confined in her walls for much longer. She had to have some outside experience. She can't bloom without the sun.
But... Casita is worried.
Her daughter was capable, yes, but she only trained her for a year! Even with her Gift! And she was 6! Isn't that young, still? And Casita; she heard all the talk, the whispers. About the Family 'Failure'. The 'Giftless Madrigal'. Her daughter was responsible, scrappy, bright- but she was still a child. And while Casita's whole form was technically the whole of Encanto, with the rest of her Magic occupied with the Gifts, the Doors, the glamour and precautions of the place; she could only manipulate the House.
She couldn't be there for her preciosa hija.
And Casita didn't like that.
Not knowing what to do, she confided in her darling Candelita. Told her how she wanted her to expand her horizons, how her walls shouldn't become her cell, how she should bloom, shine, outside of her Family's shadow. Told her how she was worried, that she would get in trouble and she couldn't reach. Told her, because maybe with two brains they can figure it out.
And Little Mirabel didn't disappoint.
"Mami, your Spirit is the Candle, no?" She had hummed, while practicing her stitches, "Could you reach out more if you had another? Like a... Candelabra- no, that's too big -oh! Like a Lantern! I could bring it around and you could come with me!" Her smile was impossibly bright.
"Would that work, Mami?"
Well now, Casita clinked around a few tiles in excitement and pride (at her pequeƱa vela brillante, obviously), things just got a lot more interesting.
  • It worked. Casita separated off a part of herself and attached it to her daughter's spirit to keep it alive, and behold, a tiny Miracle held by her Little Miracle (amusementamazementawepride).
It was easy enough getting one of the few hand-held Lanterns from the kitchen, and it was doubly so climbing up the roof and lighting it with the Main Candle before booking it to her Room.
The Lantern did not double Casita's strength, nor did it weaken the majority of her in the House. It was simply a window she could reach out from, and with Mirabel tugging it around, she essentially now had infinite but also limited reach.
Perfect.
They trained with the Lantern during the night, slipping into the part of the forest behind the House. With Dolores safe in her soundproofed room, the two could do whatever experiments they wished to their hearts' content.
Casita practiced manipulating the objects within the Lantern's radius as if they were part of the house. She tried it with Mirabel standing still, holding the Lantern aloft. She tried it with Mirabel lightly walking. She tried it with Mirabel running her fastest, Lantern now attached to her makeshift hip-belt. She had to make sure she mastered this moving influence of hers. She couldn't let her daughter be hurt.
(Though, she did let herself have a bit of mischief. She played with her daughter whenever frustration reached a boiling point, she relished in being able to interact with things other than those in the House, she loved being able to see all these new sights with her little Miracle. Her Spirit was strong, their bond was tight, and they were happy.)
Mirabel, meanwhile, practised moving and thinking in sync with her mother. Predict which object she'll ready to catch her with and jump. Predict which object she'll extend and grab. The trusting part was easy. She loved her mother. The execution? Yeah, she might've worn more band-aids than usual for the following few weeks (Though it's not like anybody would notice).
But it was fun.
And that's all that mattered.
  • The first real test of Mirabel going out on her 'own' was when both realized that if they wanted to get the most of her Gift, she had to have proper sewing, embroidery and maybe even weaving lessons. One could only make so much butterflies, after all.
So Mirabel put on her- very messy but colorful with all the threads of protection and glamour magic that Casita gently demanded her to put -white, self-sewn (from random scraps) ruana, put the Lantern in her also very messy self-knitted bag, and ventured out into the town a few minutes after her The Familia.
She took to the rooves, flitting about like a butterfly, hiding from the people and her family members as her mother led her to one of the few seamstresses in town that did not gossip about the 'Giftless Madrigal' during communal weaving.
Senora Guzman.
(Mirabel didn't mean to greet the Senora by hanging upside down from her roof to her window, but hey, turns out Kuya Mariano has good aim! Maybe he can teach her knife-throwing too!)
Perspective shift
  • Mariano did not think that a strange 6-year-old child who he almost brained with a knife would quickly become one of his bestest friends, but a strange 6-year-old child who he almost brained with a knife did quickly become one of his bestest friends.
Mira was a joy to be around.
Everyday, ever since his mama accepted Mira as her apprentice in everything involving the thread and needle, La Casa Guzman has been... alive. When before it was all comforting lulls with sprinkles of excitement, now it was the exact opposite.
Every morning, Mira's knocking on his second story window would rouse both he and his mother from bed. Then she and his mama would prepare breakfast, while he readied all the materials for the day's lesson. After that, they'd gather in the kitchen- where they'd talk about their days separated from each other (which was almost never now) or recall funny moments from the previous day; sometimes, they'll even have reviews on what types of stitching Mira had learned. Then they'd clean up the kitchen, make sure their schedules are clear, and march straight to the sewing room.
There (almost always), they manage to have one complete, straight lesson- before the sense of structure and schedule falls apart like dry grass in a forest fire.
Usually, it was because of Mira.
Mira initiating a tickle fight during break, Mira initiating a contest during a simple part of the lesson, Mira showing off, Mira messing up and picking on herself good-naturedly, Mira demonstrating new skills that always gave them heart attacks, Mira, Mira, Mira.
And Mariano would swear to his Papa's soul that his Mama had the brightest smile during these moments (mirroring his own).
It was like, Mira was a tiny little, hyperactive candle; unassuming, weirdly both belonging and out of place, but somehow the brightest of the bunch. And they were the room that had the privilege of being lit up by this wonderful, mysterious 6-year-old girl that he almost brained with a knife.
Huh...
Act- A C T- Act
Actually, where did Mira come from? What family does she belong to? She has to have amazing parents, considering how incredible she is. He doesn't recognize her face, though. But he should. He's Mariano Guzman! His mother was Council Member! But, no matter how hard he tried, he can't place Mira's face. Though, even if he wasn't a Guzman, Encanto was a close town. It should be easy right? Mira's most prominent features were her adorable, brown eyes, and her lovely big nose! In fact, now that he thought about it, she looks just like a Madrigal!
Just like
a Ma
Wait, does that m e an
s he
's
M
ira
b e l
Mad
r
i
ga
Mariano blinked.
No, Mira had (bluegreenbrownhazelambersapphireemeraldblack) eyes and an adorable (bigsmallmedium) nose and a head of (shortlongmedium) (curlystraightmessy) hair andandandandandandandand an d a n d a n d a
a n
d
a
nd
a
Mariano shook his head. What's he doing here, just standing? Mira and Mama are waiting for him. He can't let them down.
(Reblog for part 3 if you want more of Housekid AU!)
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When I was 13 years old and curious about sex and love, I asked my mom if she had had sex before marrying my father (of whom she is still married to, and has been since before I was born). She said that that wasnā€™t really a ā€˜yesā€™ or ā€˜noā€™ question. I said ā€˜sure it is, youā€™ve either had sex before him, or you havenā€™tā€™. She brought me onto the couch and sat me down and told me about the boy she liked when she was young and how one night she snuck into his house while his parents were gone and they were kissing and he said they should have sex and she said that she wanted to save sex for marriage and he laughed and basically took all her clothes off and he raped her and as my mom was telling the story she cried and this was the second time I had ever seen my mom cry. She was 12 when it happened.

In grade 8 I got a call from my friend in the middle of the night and she was drunk in the park crying and told me that she went out that night with some other friends and they drank a little and her guy ā€œfriendā€ starting flirting and yes she laughed at first but then he tried to pull her shirt over her head and she pulled away and he ripped her shirt and it was her favourite shirt and then he pushed her to her knees and HIS BEST FRIEND HELD HER JAW OPEN WHILE HE FACE FUCKED HER. And so I went to the park and picked her up and took her home and slept in her bed with her except we didnā€™t sleep because she just cried and her mouth bled and this was four years ago but I still have to be the one to bring her items to the till it the cashier is a man, and she still has anxiety attacks and sheā€™ll get a rash all over her body and I just want to kill those boys but instead they are still walking around. And Iā€™m in the bathroom with her, dabbing at her skin with a warm cloth until it returns to its regular colour.

And in grade 9 one of my closest friends was kinda seeing this boy and so they hung out one night and then she said that she really had to be getting back home and he said that she wasnā€™t going anywhere until she gave him what he wanted and he parked the car and took off her clothes and she said no and he ignored her and so she laid in the backseat totally limp and just cried and it wasnā€™t even sex, he just masterbated by using her body instead of his hand and she came to school the next day with vodka in her water bottle and she drank all day and I had to fight her to get the alcohol away from her and she just cried and threw up and I skipped class while I held her hair back and that same boy texted me a month later, asking if I ever wanted to hangout sometime.

And in that same year my very best friend who has never even kissed a boy, confessed to me that when she was 9 years old, her 12 year old cousin made her give him a hand job and he told her that was what cousins do and he gave her a chocolate bar afterwards and she told me that he probably doesnā€™t even remember it but that itā€™s something that sheā€™ll never have the luxury of forgetting.

And in grade 10 I knew a girl who invited her best friend over to watch Disney movies and then he started to put his hands down her pants and she said no but she is 130lbs and he is 220lbs and he called her a tease while she tried to fight him but he used one hand to hold her down, and the other to put inside of her and i was the one to push her inside of a classroom and stand in front of her while calling the police when he showed up at our school looking for her and she was so damn scared.

And a few months later I skipped class and was in the car with a guy who i had had unprotected sex with in the past while under the influence of cocaine but this time I was sober and I insisted we use a condom but he told me he couldnā€™t feel anything while the condom was on so he ripped it off and I said I refused to have unprotected sex again and so he just grabbed me and forced himself into my mouth and I was crying and he pulled me onto him and I just came saying ā€œstopā€ over and over like a broken record but he mustā€™ve heard something different because he went until he came and I just sat naked in the backseat while he drove me back to the school and said ā€œwe should do this again sometimeā€. And I had five showers that night and I scratched at my skin so hard to try and rip his fingerprints off of me, I still have the scars.

And I found out soon afterwards that that same guy had raped a classmate of mine, 5 months earlier and she told me about how he brought her McDonaldā€™s first, and how he said they could take things slow and she told me about how he didnā€™t listen to her either. And he goes to our school and so after she told me about her incident and I told her about mine, we decided to report it to the police and the trial is currently still going on and he told people about it, except in his version we are just ā€œasking for attentionā€ and all his friends talk about how bad they feel for him. As if HE is the one that still wakes up screaming. As if HE felt like his skin no longer was beautiful, no longer belonged to him. And I held her in my arms as she bawled after giving the police her statement. And she did the same for me.

And I met a woman a year ago in a paint store and she had a service dog and I asked what the dog was for and it turns out that she had been so brutally raped and abused in her life, that the dog is literally trained to keep men away from her.

And Iā€™m so FUCKING SICK AND TIRED OF THIS WORLD WE ARE LIVING IN. How many rape victims eyes have I already looked into? How many more will I? And how many more friends will I hold while they shake? Because I donā€™t know how many more I can take. And who the fuck still has the nerve to make rape jokes? Andā€¦ Something just has to change. Please, someone just start being that change.

-16 year old girl

Did I reblog this already I dont care

Reposting this a a victim of sexual abuse from my brother

Reblogging as a victim of rape by a close friend.

Reblogging because my sister, mother, and friends have all been used without permission.

CONSENT.CONSENT.CONSENT.REMEMBER THAT SHIT!

Consent. Always.

reblogging for my mom

rebloging for my best friend who was 13 and said no but the 20 something yo ignored her

she told me about a few months after bc she was scared of telling anyone and we cried so hard as held her

heā€™s still out there walking free and we know she probably wasnā€™t the first or the last but nobody would believe it

Rebloging for my 5 year old self

reblogging for my 17 year old self.

Reblogging for my younger self and many of my friendsā€¦

And sincerely apologizing as a trans man on behalf of the very few men that give a fuck. Iā€™ll happily go to the police with you any time. Day. Middle of the night. Whenever. šŸ–¤

Reblogging for my 13 year old self, my 18 year old self and my mom at 14.

Fuck these abusers and assholes who think theyā€™re entitled to peopleā€™s bodies and fuck everyone who victim blames, victim shames and doesnā€™t believe in us. Fuck the people who excuse the abuse. Fuck the system that allows for shit like this to happen. But most of all, fuck the people who raised their children so wrongly that they donā€™t respect boundaries and consent.

Consent. Always.

Reblogging for my 5 year old self, my 12 year old self, for my sister when she was 4, and for my friend who had to move bc of her uncle

Reblogging for my mother and for my former friend.

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Just an experiment. Reblog if you actually give a fuck about male victims of domestic violence and rape.

Of fucking course

What sick bastard doesnā€™t

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xaldien

ā€œYouā€™d be surprisedā€, said Xaldien, who just lost four followers and received a lovely ā€œmen canā€™t be rapedā€ anon shortly after reblogging this the first time.

Yowch, disgusting.

If I donā€™t reblog this, assume Iā€™m dead.

Always reblog this

If you Dont reblog this if u see it then i cant call u my friend

IF ANYONE TELLS ME THAT MEN CANā€™T BE VICTIMS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND RAPE, I AM SICKENED BY THEIR MERE PRESENCE ON MY BLOG.

If you disagree with me, unfollow my blog, block me and never look at my blog again.

If you want to debate about this or send anonā€™s about this, I will reply but your actions have consequences.

Out of 19000+ followers I have, only one of you actually reblogged about this issue, yet a lot of you have reblogged and liked a picture by playboy about catcalling and that how men should never do it.

Additionally, I have received abuse in my ask box (which I will be answering when I can) and threats. In particular death threats and rape threats.

I can see the real problem here already. Male domestic violence and rape is just invisible in our society because we donā€™t want to talk about this because it just damages the status quo of this fucking website.

Iā€™m a male victim of child sexual abuse. We matter. Please, reblog this.

Please never forget male victims are real and it can happen to everyone/anyone

Iā€™m a boy , and when i was younger I was sexually assaulted every damn day for three years by my younger step SISTER, So donā€™t go saying that ā€˜boys canā€™t be rapedā€™ bull shit

This is so important. That kinda shit can happen to everybody

Anybody can be raped, and anybody can be a rapist

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xaveronx

I give a fuck about all victims of fucking everything. Reblog to signal boost.

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labelleizzy

1,700,000 + notes and reblogs.

Protect and support your male friends always.

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Almost 200 people were murdered in Armenia in 3 days and y'all are still ignoring us.

This is not a war, this is a massacre Azerbaijan and Turkey are committing against the Armenian people.

Turkey's president literally admitted that he wants to finish what his ancestors started. He wants to commit another genocide, and this time he wants to kill us all.

Silence is violence

Update: it's been over a month. 2 thousand people were murdered so far. Please, I'm so scared, just reblog this. I'm not asking for a lot, if you can't donate that's fine, just share this.

If anyone knows where TO donate please interact?!

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reblogged

Miraculous Crossover:Ā LobotomyĀ Corp (Lukanette)

ā€œLetā€™s seeā€¦ā€ Marinette looked down at the pamphlet in her grip, carefully rereading the information on the abnormality she had been assigned to. The pamphlet in question, marked by the Lobotomy Corp logo, was all the information currently available on the abnormality she was about to encounterā€¦and just may save her life.

The latest abnormality was a snake-like being. Risk level was HE due to lack of hostile behavior or attempts to breach containment. Energy production output was yet to be determined. Abilities unknown.Ā 

ā€¦this wasnā€™t helpful at all!

She had been a member of the Safety Team for a few months now, and she felt she was getting the hang of it. She wasnā€™t dead, at least. And to the contrary, she had even helped in various situations to prevent problems and protected her fellow workers! She had survived a number of previous altercations, subdued abnormalities, and utilized EGO with a skill that impressed her superiors. She had handled a number of problems! She could handle this, too!

She nodded and entered the containment unit.

ā€œHello! Umā€¦Viperion, right?ā€

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