#coco backstage au

[pencopanko]

Do We Have a Deal? (A Coco Backstage AU Fanfic)

In which renowned actor, Héctor Rivera trolled a paparazzo by stealing his camera. Inspired by a series of photos of Keanu Reeves running away with a paparazzo's camera.

Author's Note: This was originally written some time in 2018-2019, but I was only able to finish it earlier today (GMT+7). This fanfic is set in an AU referred to as "Backstage AU" or "Actor AU" originally created by imjuanita, in which the characters in Coco are all in-universe actors. Unfortunately, I don't know how to contact her as her tumblr account has been hacked after inactivity so if you know where she is please let me know. However, if you are imjuanita and you are reading this I want to thank you personally for creating such a fun AU. I had a lot of fun exchanging ideas with you!

AO3 link here.

Héctor Rivera is usually the type of person who is willing to talk to you no matter who you are, even though he is arguably one of the hottest Latino actors in the industry. Even after his role in "Coco" as a murdered musician who happens to share his name and so much of his mannerisms that it made him even more famous, he is still willing to send a smile to his fans.

But the paparazzi? Well, that's another thing altogether. He dislikes how pervasive they are towards him, his coworkers (especially Miguel, the kid deserves a normal childhood, after all), and most of all his wife, Imelda. Unlike Ernesto who loves the attention as long as no boundaries are trespassed and deals with paparazzi in a way that is more cooperative, Héctor.... has his own ways. 

Like that one time Héctor Rivera stole a camera.

"WHAT THEーHE TOOK MY CAMERA!!"

According to bystanders, Héctor was seen running from the chasing paparazzi with a bag of groceries in his right hand and a video camera on his left shoulder, presumably taken from a snooping cameraman. He was trying to get the groceries as requested by his now five-months pregnant wife, the ever-talented Imelda Rivera, when he spotted a cameraman trying to get a shot of him. Having no time for his shenanigans and interviews for that day, he quickly grabbed the camera from the cameraman's hands and ran with it.

The stout cameraman who owned the camera was barely keeping up. Héctor's long legs only made it harder for him to catch up to him. It wasn't until he saw the lanky actor took a right turn into what looked like a dead end. Huh, he's not very smart now is he, he thought to himself as he walked cautiously into the . He realized too late that Héctor Rivera is a man of surprises as he felt a hand grab him by his shoulders. The next thing he knew, he became face to face with Héctor in a small space between two buildings.

"You're new to this job, aren't you?" asked Héctor. "They're usually good at sneaking around and all that, you were out in broad daylight, amigo."

The cameraman noticed the camera placed right on top of a closed (thank goodness) garbage can. Looking back at the taller man in front of him, he noticed that his eyes are twinkling with mischief. His grin adorned with a single golden tooth just added to the whole mischievous but definitely threatening aura. He could feel his initial confidence shrink with every breath he exhaled.

"I-I'm very sorry, Sir, I was just doiー"

"Sí, sí, I know. You were just doing your job."

"It's just thatー", the cameraman continued, "you and your wife are so private, a-and people are hungry forー"

"Ah, ah, ah. None of that", Héctor retorted. "I understand that your job is on the line, but your company and you should have known better than to go after me. You're lucky that it wasn't my wife you ran into, or else she would had made sure your face meets her shoe!", he chuckled.

The cameraman could only let out an awkward chuckle in return, but while he might not had been raised in any South American countries he had heard of the power of La Chancla. To think that someone like Imelda Rivera would hit someone with her shoes felt off... but surprisingly in-character? He shuddered at the image of her piercing eyes with a shoe on hand, ready to aim it at anyone in her path.

He jumped out of his thoughts as he heard Héctor speak again. "Alright," he said, as he picked up the camera, took off the cover, and started to record a little video. "I'll let you off with a warning this time. I'll give you this clip, but promise me that you will not disturb me or my wife again. ¿Claro? Do we have a deal?"

The cameraman looked up and he saw that Héctor was indeed recording. He had the camera face the both of them, as if taking a selfie. He had his free hand up with a peace sign, all grinning, talking to the camera as if talking to the masses to leave him, his wife, his fellow cast members ESPECIALLY little Miguel alone. He couldn't help but notice the grocery bag hanging down from Héctor's arm that was holding the peace sign.

Héctor looked at him. The cameraman swore that Héctor was really glaring at him, as he cheerfully asked "Do we have a deal?" at him. He could only let out a quiet "yes" and a nod. The taller man hummed in satisfaction, as he turned off the camera and gave it back to its owner.

"Now, be careful out there and don't let me see you again, okay? ¡Adios!", exclaimed Héctor before walking out of the dark alley. The cameraman could only look at Héctor with his mouth ajar, wondering what just happened.

-----

Weeks later, that clip of Héctor Rivera went viral. Miguel and Ernesto found it hilarious and thought that the stupefied cameraman added a nice touch to the chaos, while Héctor was getting lectures after lectures from Imelda on taking other people's things. Though she did appreciate the praises he sang for her on that video, and for that Héctor deserved a kiss.

Oh, and the cameraman? He got paid handsomely, but quit after three months. I heard that he decided to continue his family business with that money.

#penco draws #penco writes #yupyuypup #coco pixar #pixar coco #coco backstage au #coco actor au #héctor rivera #imelda rivera #imector #ernesto de la cruz #miguel rivera #crossposted from the original post #backstage!héctor

[indoraptorgirlwind]

ANT-MAN COCO AU PART 6

After Cosmo, Ant-thony appeared too, roaring. Peter laughed by the water drops falling on his head, and on Ant-thony's back was a relieved Hope. Scott awkardly looked at her

"Hope!" He chuckled

"Scott..." she said, still resent to him.

On the way, Peter congrated Cosmo for being a good dog, because she knew Scott was his relative. Suddenly, Cosmo's skin began coloring, and she sprouted wings. Cosmo was now an alebrije, which amazed Peter.

When Hope's ant alebrije landed on a roof, they reunited with the rest of the family. They were all too relieved to see Peter, hugging him and reassuring him. Hope then turned to look at Scott, with anger

"And you...I leave him alone with you and i have to rescue him from a pit!" Peter then stood between Hope and Scott

"It's not his fault. He was trying to help me, and i didn't want to listen. But he has right" Peter gazed at Scott "nothing's more important than family. We have to go back to Cross. To get Scott's photo back so he can see Cassie again!"

"He abandoned his own family!" Hope yelled

"He tried to go back with you and Cassie, but Cross poisoned him!" Peter said, and Hope just stared at Scott

"It's true, Hope..." he whined.

Hope didn't want to believe it. She wanted to cry, but she wasn't going to do it, not in front of that man

"And so what if it's true? You leave me alone with a child to raise and i'm just supposed to forgive you?" "Hope, i-" but before Scott could finish his sentence, his bones glowed again, worrying Peter who helped him stand up.

"She's forgetting you..." Hope gasped

"You don't have to forgive him" Peter said "but we shouldn't forget him! This time i'm ready to receive your blessing. And your conditions"

Hope just sighed "I tried to forget you. I tried to make Cassie forget you too but-"

"This is my fault, not yours" Scott stopped her "i'm sorry Hope"

Hope was silent, but she made a choice

"I... can't forgive you..." she said, and Scott just nodded saddly

"but i'll help you. How do we get to Cross?" She asked Peter, and he just smiled

"I think i know how..."

At Cross' sunrise show, the crowd was cheering and when it was Ramonda's part, she was told about Cross and decided to help the family, getting them to disguise as her, and get to Cross. When they finally made it backstage, they took their disguises off. The ran with Hope on the front, only to bump in front of Cross. The rest of the familty hiding behind the other side of the wall, protected by Scott.

Hope wasn't in the mood, so she grabbed her shoe and hit Cross, spinning his head.

"That's for murdering the love of my life!" She yelled

"Who?"

"She's talking about me!" Scott suddenly appeared "i'm the love of your life?" He softened with Hope

"I don't know what i said!" She snapped

"Scott? What the?" Cross was angry, only to get smacked again by Hope's shoe

"And that's for trying to murder my great-great-grandson!"

"Grandson?" Cross madly asked

"She's talking about me!" Peter proudly said

"How did you-" but Peter interrupted Cross, when he spot Scott's photo

"The photo!" He pointed, making the rest of the family come out, decided to fight against Darren. The bastard just laughed nervously and ran, calling his guards.

The guards were no match for the family. Harley pouncing against them, Wanda and Pietro using the bones from their own arms to use them as weapons, and Cosmo flying up to chew on a guard. However, when Hope got the photo, she stood on an elevator, which took her to the scenary.

She was legit scared, and the public was waiting for her to do something. She then picked the microphone. Cross' guards aproaching her. She approached the microphone, and started singing.

"Ay...de mi llorona

Llorona de azul celeste...

Ay de mi llorona, llorona

Llorona de azul celeste...

Y aunque la vida me cueste, llorona (Hope smiles at Scott and Peter, both of them smile back)

No dejare de quererte, no dejare de quererte!

Me subi al pino mas alto llorona

A ver si te divisaba

Como el pino era tierno, llorona

Al verme llorar lloraba"

When Hope was about to get to Scott and Peter, Cross grabbed her by the arm trying to steal the photo but singing along to not get exposed

"Ay de mi llorona, llorona

Llorona de azul celeste

Y aunque la vida me cueste llorona

No dejare de quererte

No dejare de querete!"

"Ay ay ay!" Cross showed off, pissing off Hope, who step on his foot, making him scream in pain, giving her the time to escape.

#Ant-man #Coco au #Peter parker #Scott lang #hope van dyne #darren cross

[chaoticgearz]

Ugghhhhhhhhhhh

AU where Marinette is a secret popstar known as Verosika Mayday

The band she's in would be called "The Mayday Krew" because I refuse to have it called by anything else.

These are their roles within the band (yes I'm including the posses as well)

Marinette would be the lead vocalist and goes by Verosika while on stage.

The rest would be somewhat OCs mixed with the canon characters so please bear with me on this one.

Genevieve Loane Maçon is the lead guitarist of the band. Her stage name is Milky.

Prudence Wolf is a bassist in the band. She goes by Coco while on stage.

Celine Thomas is the keyboard player of the band. She's most known as Apple when on stage.

Delores Gallo is the backup guitarist of the band. Her stage name is Kiki.

Alfred Perez is the drummer of the band. He's known as Josh on stage.

Augusto Miller is the backup vocalist of the band. He's also known as Kat on stage.

Fitzgerald Walker is a backup keyboard player or as he would fondly call as a Keytarist. He's known as Ace while on stage.

And then we have Vortex Anderson, the Krew's beloved backstage guy/bodyguard. He'd probably be the oldest of them all.

That's all the brainrot is taking me for now though. Might flesh it out some more later.

#cogs are winding #marinette dupen chang #helluva boss verosica #Marinette as Verosika Mayday

[pengychan]

[Coco] Mind the Gap, Pt. 22

Title: Mind the Gap Summary: Modern Day AU. Tired of Ernesto’s snide remarks, Imelda decides to put him in his place and her husband is more than happy to help. It was supposed to be a one-night deal. Things quickly get out of hand. [OT3, mostly porn and humor. Plenty of instances of Ernesto being Dramatic, Imelda getting Sick Of His Shit, and Héctor trying to be the peacekeeper. Don’t expect anything serious.] Pairings: Ernesto/Héctor/Imelda Rating: Explicit.

Art by @swanpit​.

[All chapters are tagged as ‘mind the gap’ on my blog.]

A/N: a chapter entirely from Héctor’s POV because it was about time.

***

“You know, when you two become really famous - and trust me, you will - I think Ernesto is going to be every bodyguard’s worst nightmare.”

“Huh?” Héctor finishes gulping down nearly the entire water bottle he was handed as soon as he walked backstage and turns to look at Armando, who is looking out through a gap in the curtain with a chuckle.

“You know, mingling with the crowd like that, taking selfies with absolutely everyone.” Their manager vaguely gestures to the scene Héctor cannot see, but can definitely imagine. He can hear the laughter outside, clamoring, people calling out Ernesto’s name. More than a few are calling his own, too, and Héctor would lie if he said he wasn’t flattered… but he really needs some more water before he can even think of going anywhere without risk of collapsing. 

He shrugs, tilting up the bottle so he can get the last few drops of water over his head. It was a pretty intense performance, and euphoria aside it’s left him feeling as though he walked a few miles in a desert. “Ah, he’s always done that. You know him by now, he loves an adoring crowd. He’s still getting used to success.”

“You two are on track to get far bigger crowds than this soon,” Armando laughs, letting go of the curtain. “He’d be out there all night taking selfies, then. And being an absolute security nightmare, as I said. But that will be the problem of whoever we hire for security, all things considered.”

Héctor laughs, drying off some sweat off the back of his neck with the towel a stagehand - Raúl, wasn’t it? He always feels bad when he can’t remember someone’s name - just handed him. “Ay, maybe by then he’ll be used to it and he’ll be content to keep away and let them fight each other for a chance to get a glimpse,” he says, and shrugs. “I can see him playing hard to get to. Want me to go out and tell him we need to head back?”

“Ah, no need. He’s heading back.” Armando mutters, and covers his mouth with the back of a hand before yawning. “I don’t know how you two do this. I am ready to collapse and I didn’t have to leap across the stage for two hours while singing and playing.”

“I’m more tired than I look, and I bet so is Ernesto. ” Héctor laughs, choosing not to mention how offended would be if he heard someone referring to his dancing as ‘leaping across the stage’. 

“He doesn’t look tired at all.”

“Oh, he is, or else he wouldn’t be heading back. And after only twenty minutes in the crowd? Must be exhausted.” Héctor throws the empty bottle towards the bin, and grins when it gets right in - a perfect shot. “He’s just never going to show it if it kills him.”

***

“Ay, mi amigo, this concert killed me.”

“Por Dios, you really are getting old.”

“Chingate.”

“Is that a white hair I see?”

“There is no white hair.”

“Oh, and how can you be so su--”

“I check every morning and get rid of them.”

“Ah,” Héctor says, letting himself drop on his bed. They have each their separate room, actually - they have joked over not having to share one anymore is a tangible sign they are making more and more money - but they always had a tradition to have a toast together in their room after each performance, and neither is willing to put a stop to it.

This is going to be far from their first toast of the evening, and likely they’ll have more than one, so Héctor decides it would be wise to call home and say hi to Imelda and Coco before he is completely wasted. He pulls out his phone and calls while Ernesto is busy filling the glasses, smiling broadly, waiting for his wife’s face to pop up on the screen. 

What does pop up on the screen is a big, toothless smile. 

“Babababababa!” Coco exclaims, clearly her favorite thing to say. Héctor likes to think, with no small amount of optimism, that she is trying to say papá.

His smile becomes, if possible, even broader. “Coco! Mi vida! Where’s--” he trails off when a long, pink tongue suddenly appears on screen to slap her wetly across the face. Sometimes Héctor has to wonder if Dante is indeed a Xolo or if he happens to be crossed with something else entirely, like a chameleon or an anteater. There is no way that is a normal dog tongue. 

Coco seems unconcerned, however, and reacts to the tongue slathering half her face in drool with gales of laughter. There is more laughter, and the camera turns away from the scene to show a still snickering Imelda. “She wanted to see her-- Dante, down now-- her papá, I figured you’d like-- I said down!-- to say hi.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for her to be up?” Ernesto speaks up, sitting next to Héctor with a full glass in each hand. Whatever he used to keep his hair in place is beginning to give up, his jacket is off and the first few buttons of the shirt are undone, but he still looks much more elegant than Héctor, who rather looks like he has walked out of a bad argument with security. Effortlessly handsome as always. 

And Héctor is almost tipsy enough to say as much aloud.

On the screen, Imelda rolls her eyes while pushing back the hair that has escaped her bun with her free hand. Héctor can’t help but wonder if she’s thinking the same thing. “Héctor, call a priest. Someone’s got to chase my mother out of his body.”

As Héctor lets out a sound that is half a snort and half a laugh, Ernesto raises an eyebrow. “Oh, I see. But when I sing a bit too loudly and wake her up, I am the bad guy.”

“You are after we spent two hours making her fall asleep,” Imelda points out. 

To be entirely fair, Ernesto usually means well. Coco loves listening to her parents singing, and has fallen asleep to their voices almost every evening, but with Ernesto it is a different story. Not that she doesn’t love listening to him too - she does - but his voice seems to make her want to do anything but sleep. She gets excited, bouncing and flailing all limbs like she’s trying to dance before she can even sit up on her own.

Ernesto makes a face. In the background, Héctor can hear the sound of Coco’s ceaseless cooing, some yapping that is probably an argument among the chihuahuas, and a thumping sound that he assumes has got to be Dante’s tail hitting the floor at a fast pace. 

“She’s not asleep now though, and it’s not my fault.”

“She has been fussy all evening, I couldn’t get her to sleep. As much as I would love to blame the tiny terrors you insist on calling dogs, I think she’s looking for you two.”

The thought of Coco looking for him is both adorable and somehow the most heart-breaking thing Héctor has ever heard, or so it feels at the moment. He is not tipsy enough to downright tell Ernesto he looks ridiculously handsome and open that can of worms they all keep ignoring is even there, but he is tipsy enough to tear up. “Ay, let me speak with her-- papá is going to be home soon, Coquito! I promise! I’ll make it up to you! Write a brand new song! And a present!”

“Por Dios, Héctor, you have been away three days…”

“It feels like such a long time!” Héctor protests. 

“Babababababa!” Coco declares on the other side of the line. 

“Heard that? She agrees! Imelda, let her see me again…!”

She does, and there are a few minutes of cooing back and forth. Ernesto doesn’t join the cooing, but he does smile and even wave at Coco when he forgets to feign annoyance. Eventually Imelda laughs, declares it enough, and lifts the phone to look into the camera again. “How did the concert go?”

Héctor is happy to let Ernesto do the talking there, let him gloat about how big everything was, how dazzling, how successful, how wild the crowd went. It’s nice seeing him so excited: occasions like this are when he’s at his happiest. It actually takes him some effort not to stare at him as he talks… and he notices, with a glance at the screen, that Imelda is indeed staring at him with a soft look Héctor knows well. Ernesto doesn’t seem to notice, too taken describing the applause they got; Héctor feels something much like a lump forming in his throat for a moment. 

Last time they had a video call with Imelda while away for a concert this long, they did a lot more than talk. They put up a really good show for her, really.

Héctor makes a very conscious effort not to think about that, and downs the glass Ernesto filled for him with a gulp. It helps, and it also gives him an excuse to get up and move a few steps away to the liquor cabinet. He’s refilling the glass when Ernesto bids Imelda goodnight and holds out the phone for him to take. He smiles at her.

“Mi amor! Would you like me to sing for Coco? As a last resort?”

“Ah, that may help. I can’t seem to be able to make her settle…”

“I can sing,” Ernesto offers.

“Don’t,” both Héctor and Imelda say immediately, and Ernesto throws up his hands, leaning back against the wall.

“Ay, my art is not understood here,” he mutters, and downs his own glass, entirely forgetting about the toast they had been planning. He doesn’t protest further, however, and just leans back, listening as Héctor sings at Coco through the phone. To Héctor’s immense pride, Coco does finally settle down to sleep.

“You should write this one down,” Ernesto muttered after they have bid Imelda goodnight and the call has ended. He’s filling the glass again, and he empties it in one gulp. “Would be a success.”

“Ah, that’s just a lullaby I came up with for her.” Héctor sits with his own glass, and drinks about half of it. “I don’t think it suits our style, anyway.”

“We can liven it up a little.”

“I’d rather not. I haven’t finalized it yet, but it’s… I don’t think I’d want to share that with crowds. Which, if Armando is to be believed, will keep getting bigger and bigger.”

Ernesto lets out a laugh that almost sounds like braying. He is getting drunk all right. “Hah! Of course we will. To success!” he adds, lifting the glass before bringing it to his mouth without apparently realizing it’s empty. The look of pure disappointment on his face is enough to make Héctor burst laughing, sitting down heavily beside him and leaning against his side. Ernesto scoffs. “Hey, stop that--”

There is some squabbling, a glass falls thankfully without shattering, hands are slapped away and hair is ruffled. By the end of it they’re both snickering and laying against each other, like they had the first time they got drunk on a bottle they had stolen from Ernesto’s father’s stash and drank in secret in old Rafael’s orchard as kids. Well, as a kid and a young teenager respectively. Ay, Ernesto was always such a bad example. He should tell him that. Actually, he will. 

“You know,” Héctor mutters, turning. “You were always such a bad exa--” he trails off, realizing belatedly that Ernesto is looking at him, no longer smiling but wistful, in a way only someone with all walls down can. Their faces are close, and Héctor’s smile fades. They stare at each other and something aches, the sense of absence he has been trying to ignore. 

He is happy with the life he has, but sometimes he... and Imelda, he’s sure, they just lay there and try to ignore the empty space beside them in the bed. If he only leans in… if he just--

“I think I should go lay down in my room,” Ernesto says abruptly, and stands just as suddenly, almost toppling back as a result. His skin is flushed, and his eyes are darting across the room, never pausing on Héctor. “It’s-- late. Yes. Late. We have the plane early tomorrow.”

It doesn’t depart until midday.

“... You know you can stay here. If you’re too drunk to make it back to your room,” he adds quickly with an unconvincing smile, as though that can in any way hide what he truly means. 

We could. If we want. If you want.

“I…” Ernesto hesitates, his gaze finally resting on Héctor. A look of painful yearning crosses his face for a moment before he turns away. “Had a glass too many, but I can make it to my room. I’ll see you in the morning,” he mumbles, and makes for the door, as quickly as his unsteady feet can get him. 

“Ernesto,” Héctor calls out, heart beating somewhere in his throat. He stops at the door, back rigid, and doesn’t turn when Héctor speaks again. “I meant it. If… if you want--”

“This isn’t about me,” Ernesto cuts him off, his voice unsteady as his gait. Something sinks in Héctor’s chest just as his best friend mutters a ‘good night’ and yanks the door open, quickly stepping out. The clack as it shuts again seems to reverberate in the room. What he means, what they both know, hangs unspoken and heavy in the room long after he’s stumbled out of the door, leaving Héctor alone with an empty glass, an empty gaze, and empty bed.

It wouldn’t be the same. For either of us. 

As he lays in the middle of a king-sized bed, empty spots at either side of him, Héctor finds himself unable to sleep. He wonders how Ernesto bears it, trying to sleep every night with that emptiness around him. Héctor will soon be home, and one spot by his side will be filled again - but the other one will remain empty, a gap he and Imelda have been trying to ignore for far too long. How much longer?, Héctor has asked himself more than once, and he finds he has the answer now.

No longer.

***

When Imelda picked Ceci as Coco’s godmother, Héctor had a few concerns. 

Not that he didn’t think she would be happy to be asked - she was - or that he doubted she would take the role very seriously - she did - but he mostly wondered how she would get along with Ernesto when it came to organizing… everything that godparents are meant to organize together. As it turns out, the answer is ‘not very well’.

“Can you hurry up and take the measurements already? She’s drooling all over my hand!”

“I’m trying, but as you are unable to keep her still--”

“Why don’t you try to keep a baby still?”

“Because then I’d have to leave the measurements to you and you’d make a mess out of it.”

“Gagagagagagaga!”

“See, she agrees with me.”

By his side, an ear to the door and a hand over her mouth, Imelda is trying with all her might to stifle the giggles that shake her frame. Héctor bites back a laugh himself, takes a mental note to tell Imelda picking Ceci was a great idea, and keeps listening.

“She’s not agreeing with-- ugh. This is stupid. Can’t we just buy her the ropón like any normal godparents?”

Ceci gasps as though she just heard him suggest they should throw her in the baptism water naked as the day she came out of the womb, and possibly leave her to drown.

“There is no way my goddaughter is going to wear a store-bought ropón. I will make her one. All you need to do is keep her still now, and buy her a decent gold medal. Not silver, you cheapskate. Gold.”

“Me, a cheapskate!” Ernesto couldn’t sound more insulted if she accused him of stealing candy from children. Which he has done on a couple of occasions, Héctor recalls. “For your information, now that my career is well on the way I spare no expenses.” Well, some expenses, but they are getting more money than ever before now and there will be more in the future, Armando tells them. “I think silver is more elegant, is all.”

“What does a baby care about elegance?”

“I don’t know, why does the crazy seamstress need to make her a ropón from scratch?” 

“Bababababa!”

“See, now she’s agreeing with me!”

Ceci’s response is a barrage of expletives that have absolutely no business being uttered in the presence of anybody below the age of twenty-one, and Imelda would normally throw the door open to make her displeasure known... but Ceci could always get away with more than most. That, and Imelda is too busy snickering in her hand.

Ah well. It’s not like Coco is old enough to learn the words she’s hearing now, after all. 

“Are you sure they won’t kill each other during the ceremony?” Héctor sniggers, and Imelda grins back.

“They know that if they try I’ll bring them back and kill them again.”

“Heh, true. Guess it’s a good thing Ernesto is fine with coming to Santa Cecilia now,” Héctor says. Not that it has kept him awake at night, but he and Imelda had always known they would want their children to be christened in their old parish in Santa Cecilia, more out of tradition than anything else… and the godfather being allergic to the entire town may have made things tense. “Still can’t believe old Estéban actually went dry.”

“I guess people change,” Imelda mutters, but the smile on her face is different - more muted, somewhat melancholy as she keeps looking at the door behind which Ernesto and Ceci are still squabbling over Coco’s delighted squeals. She doesn’t need to say anything more for Héctor to guess exactly what she’s thinking.

He did, too.

This is not about me, he said, and he meant it. The man he was before, the man Imelda rightfully argued would never be able to put Coco’s needs or indeed anyone else’s wishes before his own, would have never uttered those words.

“... Yes. They do change,” he finds himself saying, very quietly. 

There is silence and there it is, the thing that has been hanging between them for a good while now and which neither has spoken of. There are probably better moments to finally talk about it than now, with the man in question in the next room over squabbling with his co-godparent, but Héctor knows that they have waited long enough. 

“I’ll make some coffee,” is all Imelda says, and he follows her to the kitchen. There is a brief silence while she prepares the coffee machine, and then she breaks it. “So… nothing happened these past three nights?”

“No, nothing,” Héctor says quietly, sitting at the table. Not out of lack of want or opportunity it just-- did not. Much like Ernesto hasn’t been seeing anyone else, and entirely ignored a dancer’s honestly rather clumsy attempt at flirting the previous week. Not for lack of opportunity, but he just… did not. 

“You know I do not mind,” Imelda says, her voice still very quiet. “Surely he still wants you. And you do want him. I mean--”

“You do too,” Héctor replies, and reaches over to take her hand, pulling her gently towards him. She looks down, and their gazes meet. “And it seems-- unfair. Without you.”

“Unfair?”

“It is not the same. It was one thing when we were all in it together, without you it would feel...” he tries to find an appropriate word, fails - congratulations, songwriter - and sighs. “Not the same thing. I’d rather keep the memory of what we had rather than risk ruining it by forcing some kind of imitation. And I think he feels the same. When I had a moment and tried to suggest we… he was the one who stepped out.”

She smiles faintly, stroking back his hair. “So I am included in the package, then?”

A chuckle, and he wraps his arms around her torso before craning his neck to keep looking up, chin resting over her chest. “You created the package, Imelda.”

“I recall. Not how I expected the evening to go. I only wanted to shut his mouth.”

“I mean, I also did that.”

“True.” She is quiet a few moments, her fingers running through his locks. “... You know why I felt-- it needed to end.”

“I know.”

“The priority must be Coco now, and I thought - I knew - that Ernesto would not have been able to accept that. Take the backseat when needed to make sure her upbringing is as normal as it can possibly be.”

“... I keep picking up a past tense.”

Imelda’s hand pauses in his hair. She looks at him in the eye, her gaze soft. Thoughtful. “He did change. I think he will make a fine godfather.”

“Are you considering…?”

“I am. If he’s willing to give another try. And if you are.”

“... Yes. But we are all in this or no one is, so it is your decision. I know there may be challenges if, well... people finding out, or when Coco asks for an explanation growing up, or-- if anyone mocks her for it, I don’t know what I would--”

“We don’t need to scream it from the rooftops,” Imelda says, and resumes stroking his hair. “It is no one’s business but our own. Neither should we go out of our way to hide. We’re doing nothing wrong.”

Héctor holds her a little tighter. “I know. But if you still feel it is best for Coco, both Ernesto and I understand.”

“It is Coco I am thinking about.” She cuts him off, and sighs. “Well-- her as well. I have been wondering, should she somehow find out either way what there has been between the three of us - I know it’s near impossible unless we tell her, but just imagine - what would we be teaching her?” The hand in Héctor’s hair pauses, and she looks down at him. “That no matter if she’s doing nothing wrong and hurting no one, she should take the path of least resistance and do what she’s told is proper? Forego her own happiness because people who don’t understand it may disapprove?”

Ah. That is… not something Héctor thought about. He slowly pulls away, and grabs both of Imelda’s hands. “I’m sure that won’t happen. She’ll be as brave as her mamá.”

“Then it’s time for her mamá to be brave.”

“Ay, mi amor--”

“Uh, apologies for interrupting, but I think your coffee is spilling over the stove.”

“Gah!” Héctor jumps back and almost falls off the chair when Ceci’s voice rings out. Imelda blinks, and turns to look at the doorway. Ceci is there, her measuring tape and notepad in hand, one eyebrow raised. Héctor stands, giving her a smile entirely too wide. 

“Ceci,” he says quickly. “Whatever you heard, it was, uh. Not what it. Sounded like.”

Ceci’s left eyebrow joined the left one almost up to her hairline. Imelda sighs and places her hand on Héctor’s shoulder.

“Turn off the strove,” she says before turning to Ceci. “... How much have you heard?”

“Enough to hurt my brain, to be entirely sincere. Not out of bigotry, mind you, but... him of all people? Unless I understood it all wrong. Please tell me I understood it all wrong.”

Imelda’s lips curl in a faint smile, and some of the tenseness in her back disappears. When she speaks, she denies nothing. “No accounting for taste, I suppose. I would be grateful if you could keep what you heard private.”

“Of course I am not going to go around telling, who do you take me for?”

“A bruja?” Ernesto’s voice carries over from the next room, causing Héctor to wince and, of course, spill hot coffee on his hand. Ay, maybe having that conversation with Ernesto and Ceci a couple of doors away was every bit the lousy idea he thought it may be. To his relief, as Ernesto walks in with Coco in the crook of his arm, it becomes obvious he only heard the last few words and has no idea of what the concersaton is even about. 

Héctor silently thanks God for the fact they won’t have to talk things through in front of Ceci just as Ernesto pauses on the doorway and blinks, realizing all eyes are on him. 

“Is-- something on my face?” he asks, taken aback. In his arms, Coco squirms and coos, holding out her arms to Imelda. She immediately goes to pick her up, her face just a little reddened, and Ceci clears her throat. 

“Well, I think it is about time I am off. I'll send you progress photos of the ropón," she says quickly, and is out of the room and towards the door as fast as her legs can carry her. 

Ernesto blinks again, watching her retreating back until she’s gone. “What crawled up her--”

“Not in front of Coco!” Héctor almost screeches, his own face dark red, and Ernesto trails off. 

“Right-- what’s gotten into her?” he asks, and looks back at them. “... Actually, what’s gotten in all of you just now?”

Héctor works his jaw, and glances over at Imelda. She looks back at him, bouncing Coco in her arms for a few moments, and finally turns back to Ernesto.

“... Would you like to stay for lunch?” she asks.

He does.

***

[Back]

[Next]

#pixar coco #hector rivera #imelda rivera #ernesto de la cruz #coco #mind the gap

[2ynjns]

we lost the summer, so let’s not lose winter || choi beomgyu

day 7 of 31 christmas with ydale

pairings: beomgyu x reader

genre: idol!au, exes to lovers, angst to fluff.

warnings: slight jealousy. i used ‘they’ as a gender neutral pronoun for your group members, i tried not giving specific names too!

beomgyu tried his very best not to take multiple glances at you while both of your groups were waiting backstage to perform onstage, but you were just too good-looking to not take a look at. wearing the most gorgeous red velvet fabric that has a deep v-cut on your chest exposing it, everyone’s eyes are on you. your hair neatly flattened and your stylists did a great job on your makeup tonight.

beomgyu couldn’t help but to bite his lips to remind himself to stop looking your way. “hyung, you’re way too obvious.” taehyun warned his elderly. beomgyu just looked away and shook his head. “I’ll stop…” was the only thing beomgyu said before walking towards the stage.

you peeked at the stage and you saw your ex boyfriend about to perform their disco themed stage. you wanted to watch him upfront but you’d just be the talk of the internet again if you do. you sighed and took a sip from your water bottle and looked around, you saw your group still getting their makeup done.

“he’s gonna melt.” your leader whispered, you just let out a small chuckle before putting the bottle down. “as he should after oogling me earlier.” you said overly confident. your leader’s eyes flew wide open but let out a small giggle before slightly pushing you.

“get your microphone ready, we’re performing next.” they said before tapping your cheeks as a goodluck and walking to your manager.

after txt performed, you walked to the stage and fixed your hair one last time. you tried your very best not to make any eye contact with txt’s members while they walk down the stage. your group gave them a small bow and congratulated them on their successful performance when yeonjun mouthed you ‘goodluck’ and giving you a thumbs up while walking away.

you were shocked by his small gesture and you looked at your other members and they are now giggling at you.

“ew, no, i’m not gonna date my ex’s homie.” you said before initiating to go up stage.

after performing, you got down the stage and your staff members congratulated you and handed you a bottle of water and a towel to wipe your sweat away. you watched your group’s performance on a small tv screen when you felt someone tapped your back.

you whipped your head around and saw yeonjun smiling at you widely, “hey yeonjun,” you said and gave him a smile. “you did great up there! It was good to see you and your group try a different concept. no more cute concept huh?” he complimented you.

“yeah.” you let out an airy laugh, “our fans suggested for us to do a sexy christmas-ish concept and we just gave them what they wanted.” yeonjun looked at your hair and he went closer to fix it. you were startled but you didn’t make it obvious.

“your hair was standing by itself.” he said, then leaned forward to your ear. “you should talk to beomgyu, he’s been missing you.” he said while giving you a pat on the head and left.

your jaw dropped from what happened and quickly turned around to see your members staring at you with their jaw dropped as well. “what was that?” your maknae said and shook you a little bit.

you explained to them what happened and how yeonjun just asked you to talk to beomgyu since he was ‘missing you’. “well if he was really missing you, yeonjun shouldn’t have talked to you first, as he should. and, you shouldn’t be the one coming up to him, he should.” the eldest member of your group suggested. you just shrugged and fiddled on the water bottle.

“i kinda wanna talk to him though.” you whispered. your maknae elbowed you slightly while smiling widely, “you should, look, he’s just standing there alone.”

you looked at beomgyu and you found him standing in front of the monitor alone while holding hueningkai’s plushie. he looked so adorable that you missed him. you missed the nights when you would sneak out your dorms to go on a small hidden date, you missed the late night video calls, you missed the small secret little good luck kisses and hugs backstage, you missed cuddling with him. heck, you missed him. you miss him.

you missed those summer nights that you would spend time together. you missed the shared memories you made. but those are now history since you and beomgyu broke up right after the pandemic started.

due to busy schedule and a lot of restrictions, you and beomgyu couldn’t find the right time and place to meet. it frustrated you both enough to the point you just decided to break up because the more that you argue about it, the more that you feel the neediness and longing for him.

The autumn season was the worst for you. you and beomgyu broke up in the worst times which is the autumn, the seasons and weather changing make you feel worse because some days were gloomy, some days were bright and shiny. you didn’t know what to do or who to approach during those times because even though your members are there, you didn’t want to be a burden to them.

now that it’s the holiday season, all of your members are going home to celebrate christmas with their families. meanwhile, you’ll be left at the dorms spending the christmas night by yourself. initially, you wanted to spend your christmas week with beomgyu, just baking cookies, watching movies while cuddling and drinking hot coco. but you could only wish now.

your eyes softened when you saw beomgyu’s face lowered while hugging the plushie. you took a long stride approaching beomgyu.

beomgyu noticed a shadow approaching him so he looked up at your direction. he saw you walking confidently towards him holding a water bottle. he just stared at the way you move and how great you look tonight.

he wanted to run up to you and give you hugs and kisses just like before, but he knew he couldn’t because you and his history is done.

“hey.” you greeted him, “uh hey…” he whispered. you just smiled at him and you leaned your back against the wall behind him. “i enjoyed your performance. and your fit too, i like it on you. It’s so christmassy but so retro, i really like it.” you complimented him.

you saw him blush from your remark and you just let off a giggle. “are you okay? seems like you don’t really wanna talk to me. i’ll just leave.” you said before giving him a small smile and ready to walk away.

beomgyu was fast to hold your hand and pulled you slightly. “n-no. s-stay. i want you to stay.” he said. you looked at his eyes and you saw his sincerity, you smiled and gripped his hand and led him to a more private area, but you could still see everyone from here.

“how are you?” you started the conversation. he didn’t say anything but he just kept staring at your face. “beomgyu, are you okay?” you asked him one more time and waved you hands in front of him. he held your waving hand tightly and pulled it down.

“i miss you.” he said.

you looked at him with soft eyes and smiled, “i know.” you said. you saw him frown a little because he didn’t get the response that he wanted to get from you. you cupped his cheek with your free hand and caressed it. “and i do too, i miss you, baby.” you said still caressing his face.

you leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek and you saw how one tear streamed his eyes. 

“i- i saw yeonjun-hyung talked to you. i was scared he might’ve liked you because the way he looked and talk to you was-” 

you cut him off by giving him a deep kiss. once you pulled away, you hugged him. “silly, me and yeonjun wouldn’t do that to that to you. i’m not that type or person to break the bro code.”

he hugged you back and rubbed your back. “let’s not lose each other again this time, we lost our summer and i wouldn’t let us lose winter this time.” he mumbled before giving you a kiss on the forehead.

you looked up and gave him a peck. “you should come home with me to my parents at daegu on christmas. they want to meet you so bad.” you smiled at his suggestion and kissed him again. “i’d be glad to.”

#31 Days Of Christmas With Ydale #christmas with ydale and txt #beomgyu's christmas #christmas series 2020 #txt #txt imagines #txt imagine #txt scenarios #txt scenario #txt angst #txt fluff #beomgyu #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu angst #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu scenario

[weirdagnes]

💄RUDOLF’S DRAG RACE AU 🏁

ALRIGHT SO this AU originally started in our Yeah We Outlasting discord server, artists started drawing the characters in drag and I WOKE HMSHD real shit man. So I'm making a masterpost for drag au on behalf of the server✊✊

Outlast 1 = Season 1

Outlast 2 = Season 2

Whistleblower DLC = All Stars

All of the characters and ideas for the characters were written in collab with @gothivican, @panopt1c0n, @grahaam and the rest of the lads in the server, y’all have such beautiful brains. So anyways.

Here are the judges:

Rudolf Wernicke. Lowkey bias, literally goes to the backstage and tells Miles to beat Billy Hope in a lipsync because Billy can't continue on the show for some reason. Has favoritism towards Blaire, but was forced to sashay him away by the other two judges. Also this bitch is dying, literally has a breathing tank support behind his chair.

Pauline Glick. A very sharp critic. Wore the same shoes? Call out. Oh that's your signature makeup? UGLY tone it down. Sorry, the colors don't match, you'll be in the bottom two for that.

Paul Marion. The kindest judge. He will give constructive criticism in the nicest non-offensive way possible and compliment them after (because he would feel guilty about it).

Alice as guest star. Supportive as f u c k, huge fan, she cries when meeting the queens in Untucked. She can't help complimenting the queens every 10 seconds, she gives off the Leslie Jones’ enthusiasm.

Lisa Park as guest star. Like Alice, very supportive. She’s an artist, and will break down all the reasons why they are so good from an artist’s perspective. Crushes HARD on Wyssle Blower, she might’ve given her number after the show.

Lynn Langermann as guest star. She’s a judge, and she will judge. Gives out well constructed criticisms to all queens fair and square until she saw Angel Fromm (Blake) and just says “Wow what’s there to criticize?” Sallyzekiel hates her, Valentina and Angel on the other hand loves her very much.

 Here are the queens:

Miles Upshur as Kill-O-Meter. Primarily an insult comedy and rocker queen, and specializes in dancing. She tends to be criticized for a lack of glamour on some of her main stage looks, and is one of the most dramatic, sarcastic and shady queens of the bunch. Can and will stomp on you in latex boots for money. Besties with Wyssle and Chrisel, gets into a little heated talks with (occasionally) Peacock, (frequently) Ricky and Remy. She adores Cheets’ (Pyro) makeup skills. Winner of season 1 babey!!

Chris Walker as Piggy Chrisel. A punk/grunge queen who seems to specialize moreso in dancing and lip syncing. She's a shy, gentle giant, has a little trouble speaking coherently and it affects her in the acting/impromptu comedy challenges. She will call out whores though, she will kick ass when the situation calls for it. Really good at makeup, makeup girl-friends with Cheeto and besties with Kill O Meter (Latrila vibes). Also a perfectionist and hates mess on her work table.

Rick Trager as Ricky Trix. Whore, that's all. This bitch OBNOXIOUS and shady but she's both a glamour AND comedy queen, the other queens are watching out for her since day one. Horror and '80s inspired queen, extremely good at comedy and acting and will literally stomp the competition with nearly perfect impressions and extremely expressive acting. The downfall for her seems to be glam on the occasion and singing. Rivals with Kill O Meter and Miss Tini, kikis with Remy (they throw shade to other queens the moment they get em)

Father Martin as Miss Tini. The oldest queen but she can still serve the cakes. Generally a kind person, coming from a religious background. She’s takes the drag culture religiously. She gets along with The Twinks.

The Twins as The Twinks. Was recruited as two totally separate queens, but both quit on the first episode when one of the twins were to be eliminated. The queens tell the Twinks apart by who’s bald and who’s not. They don’t vibe with other queens except Miss Tini.

Pyromaniac as Cheeto de LaFlammeo. Queen of Makeup, she has some serious skill range on it. Good in the acting department, always plays as the tragic character. Was rivals with Kill-O Meter before, but one time when she had a breakdown, Kill-O Meter was by her side when no one was. After that, they respected each other.

Billy Hope as Billy Willy. CLOWN QUEEN, huge Crystal Methyd vibes. She’s the youngest queen, very energetic, a ball of SUNSHINE but Wernicke was a bias bitch and sent her home immediately the moment she was in the bottom. She was basically Kill-O Meter and Wyssle Blower's drag child. Hailed as Miss Congeniality, is voted by majority to return for a season 2 for going home a little too early than people feel was deserved. Best at makeup and outfits, her mom Tiffany taught her to sew and make dresses out of rags and other unconventional materials and the skill proved to be helpful. Also she likes puns and everyone likes playing with her name like: Silly Billy Willy, Witty Billy Willy, etc.

....

Waylon Park as Wyssle Blower. The Mom of the queens, the most well rounded queen, and the most 'fishy' one. Probably the smartest and most humble one out of everyone, she can read through people’s bullshit well. Genuinely looks like a girl in full drag, but always does her best on acting. She's serving you a cute, nerdy and quirky style, but can serve horror when need be. Always wins the mini challenges, she's not as loud as the other girls but she does beat Blaire in a lip sync (lowkey badass lipsyncer). Winner of All Stars babey

Jeremy Blaire as Remy Coco Ainée. Pretentious fake ass queen, even her drag name is just Cocaine in fake French. A pure fashion glamour queen, she serves it at almost all the fashion challenges but there's no more personality out of her other than that and her shady attitude (she will not hold back on the shade). Is extremely horrible at singing (her voice cracks) and acting, goes home against a lip sync with Wyssle. This bitch will FLEX her wins. Kikis with Ricky, mainly rivals with Kill O Meter, Wyssle and Peacock but she made everyone her rivals bc of her bitchass attitude.

Eddie Gluskin as Edna Taylor. Fashion queen, specializes in sewing, acting and singing, but is extremely lacking in the dancing department. Has a one-sided endearment for Waylon, and consistently tries to have her attention. Is extremely manipulative too, trying to consistently trip the other queens up. Also everybody hates her mohawk signature wig but nobody says anything about it because they don’t want to be victim to Edna’s mind games.

Frank Manera as Hanni Canni Bahl. Horror queen, best at comedy and dancing. Though it is prohibited, she’s able to sneak in weed, coke (for Ricky) and snacks in the werk room. Very messy when working, her discarded fabrics are EVERYWHERE and Chrisel is fighting the urge to clean it up. She eats while working when the camera’s off, and it stains the dress she’s working on (Pauline notices it).

Dennis as Denise. Mocked as “Edna’s little helper” as she always helps with her dresses. She’s trying too hard to impress Edna, and helps her get Wyssle’s attention. Very talented in acting and sewing, but bland in fashion, lacking in concept. Her inner conflict is what got her eliminated.

Simon Peacock as Julie Peacock. Rebellious, mischievous, and an ex-glam queen gone horror and campy instead. After being insulted much by glam queens (ahemRemyahem), she just embraced it and became a horror queen, serving the judges her horror aesthetic. Best at comedy, lacks extremely on acting and dancing though. No one is safe from her constructive criticism, and she will never stop ranting to Kill O Meter and Wyssle about Remy and Ricky being bad bitches and favored by Wernicke, she thinks it's unfair.

....

Blake Langermann as Angel Fromm. Singing queen!! Good at singing, but otherwise is moreso well-rounded, she might've been eliminated earlier, hadn't it been for her also low-key successful and iconic lip syncs. But the lucky winning streak didn't last forever, she goes home later in the season because she's slowly falling behind the other queens and can't keep up anymore. Has Rococo aesthetic, unfortunately the outfits can't make up for the lack of character as a queen. Though she needs a lot of improvement, the guest star Lynn adores her very much.

Val as Valentina. Queen of SEX or moreso impersonations and comedy. She’s a terrible tailor, but likes unconventional and simple fashion designs. She’s trans and lowkey Pauline has a crush on her the moment she walked on that stage. Pure rivals with Sallyzekiel, you know that iconic Aja vs. Valentina in Untucked? They had that moment. Probably goes home earlier, not entirely prepared, but still was a season icon. Definitely dropped it low about 10 times on her lip sync.

Marta as ImMartal. GOTH QUEEN, survived about early mid season. Best at her makeup and looks, glam queen, but the judges criticize her for wearing the same wigs/having the same hairstyle for almost every looks.

Nick Tremblay as Nicky Lanterns. Another gentle giant. Very introverted, she has a difficult time socializing with other girls because she’s generally not a very loud person. Really bad at makeup, her fashion sense is somewhat okay but it’s always on the ‘safe’ level. Pretty good at slapstick comedy, writing and concepts tho. It’s a wonder how Nicky and Lard Imp became “friends,” they’re complete opposites.

Laird Byron as Lard Imp. Whore, Exhibit B. Extremely rude, louder than Remy and Ricky themselves, and has a weird love/hate obsession with Angel for some reason. Everyone hates her, even Rudolf himself, and Lard Imp isn’t her original drag name but ultimately they came to a point where they just called her Lard Imp. Constantly denies the judges’ and the queens’ critiques, very delusional about winning the season and that’s why she’s the first one eliminated.

Sullivan Knoth as Sallyzekiel. The Big Bad Bitch of the season. Ultimate rivals with Valentina, constantly bullies Angel. Marta used to be friends with her, but after talking shit on Valentina, she says fuck you and defended Val. Glam queen, has an affinity for shoes but damn girl terrible makeup and padding. Really good with speech, acting and impromptu.

So far, here are the character designs we have made!

(1) Blake and Trager by @/pan0pt1con

(1, 2, 3, 4, 5) Waylon, Chris, Simon, Eddie, Miles and Jeremy by @/gothivican

(1) Billy, Miles, Chris, Wernicke, Pauline, Paul and Alice by @/weirdagnes

#outlast #outlast: whistleblower #outlast 2 #the murkoff account #rudolf's drag race #miles upshur #chris walker #rick trager #the twins #martin archimbaud #pyromaniac #billy hope #waylon park #eddie gluskin #jeremy blaire #frank manera #dennis #simon peacock #blake langermann #val #marta #nick tremblay #laird byron #sullivan knoth #rudolf wernicke #pauline glick #paul marion #alice marion #lynn langermann #lisa park

[sweetiepie08]

Everything Stays (Chapter 1)

Mushroom War au/Adventure Time au (can’t decide on an au name)

Inspired by Simon & Marcy’s relationship in Adventure Time

Héctor can’t remember how he found the amulet or why it’s chosen him, but it saved him and his daughter when the end of the world came. As he and Coco wander through the wreckage, he can feel the amulet’s power growing and trying to creep into his mind. He knows it’s slowly taking over despite his attempts to fight, but he must hang on for Coco. 

Edit: added link to the song at the end.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. 

Héctor found himself standing on the steps of the Auditorio Nacional, though not in the way he ever imagined. He dreamed of playing here one day as a professional musician, not assessing if the roof looked stable or how well the doors would hold against attack. Still, it looked sturdy and would make a good shelter for the time being, so long as there were no surprises inside.

“What do you think, Coco?” Héctor asked, jostling her awake. “It’d make a pretty good home for a while, right?” It was their best option anyway. It was getting dark, and night was the worst time to be outside. “Think you can walk?” Her little legs gave out a few hours ago. Hopefully they’d recovered by now.

Coco flopped her head into the crook of his neck and mumbled her answer which seemed to be in the affirmative. He let her slide out of his arms and held her hand as they climbed the steps. The locks were weak from disrepair, which meant they’d have to reinforce the doors once inside.

“Don’t go running off, Coco,” Héctor said as he jammed a long pipe between the door handles. “We don’t know what’s in here yet.”

He kept his hand clasped tightly around hers as they explored. They checked every inch to make sure their new hideaway was free of Monsters as Coco called them. She wasn’t far off. He didn’t have the heart to tell her what the Monsters once were.

The sadness crept in his mind as they wandered around. This place, though now falling to shambles from surviving the Mushroom War and left neglected for some length of time (he’d lost track of the days), still had some beauty to it. He only wished he could have seen it in its prime. It must have been magnificent. At least he got to see the pipe organ, though playing would attract too much attention. It was probably horribly out of tune anyway.

That the green room still had big, comfy couches felt like a miracle. At least his aching back would get some relief for now. Twenty Seven years old and already complaining about my back, he thought with a smirk. After everything that’d happened, this shouldn’t be such a surprise, but it was hard letting go of the old normality.

“Papá, there’s a fire place,” Coco pointed out.

Ah, another perk. Coco hated the dark now, and frankly, so did he.

Héctor set his backpack down on a table and rummaged around for the matches.

“Why don’t you use your magic, Papá?” Coco asked as she climbed on one of the sofas.

Héctor’s hands froze in the bag and he suddenly became very aware of the weight he wore around his neck. He turned to her with an easy smile and said, “Don’t want to waste it, m’ija. We need to save that for when it’s really important.”

After Héctor got the fire going, they ate some of their rations for supper. Coco then curled up in his lap and asked for a story. She liked the silly ones. In truth, he just retold episodes of cartoons from his childhood, or at least what he could recall from them. He’d have to make up some as he went, but she always enjoyed it and so did he. It was good for the both of them to forget for a while.

Soon enough, she was fast asleep. Héctor lay on the couch with his daughter’s head on his chest. He combed his fingers through her hair and stared at the ceiling as he tried to keep his thoughts in check. He had to try very hard not to think of it, not to remember, but his old life was hard to forget in this room. It brought memories of him and Ernesto talking for hours about what their lived would be like once they became famous musicians. When they were younger, their fantasies usually revolved around playing huge, sell-out shows in iconic venues around the world, attending wild, star-studded parties, making ridiculous backstage demands just to see if they’d really happen… Then, when they were older, their thoughts turned to making their mark on music history, inspiring young musicians just like them, and for Héctor, providing the best life possible for his girls.

Well, Ernesto, I finally made it. I hope this is close enough for you. It was funny, really. Ernesto was always trying to get him to tour Mexico, and now he finally had.

It wasn’t as if there’d be an audience to play for anyway. After months of traveling, trying to stay ahead of the Monsters and searching someone, anyone who could help, they found nothing. Coco was the only other human he’d seen since that day. As far as he could tell, he and Coco were the only people left in Mexico, possibly even the world. Though he refused to believe the latter. There must have been a few people like them who got lucky.

That day played out like a nightmare. The bright green mushroom cloud appeared in the sky. According to the news, it could be seen from all over the world. People were told to stay indoors, to not go outside for anything. Imelda, however, insisted on doing just that. Her brothers had gone out before the cloud appeared and hadn’t come home. Héctor begged her not to go, but she was determined to make sure her brothers were safe. She told him to stay home and protect Coco. She kissed him, and that was the last time he saw her, or at least as she was.

After she left, a flash emitted from the cloud. Instinctually, Héctor shielded Coco with his body. When they came to, the Santa Cecelia they knew was gone. Buildings were crumbling, the sky was filled with black clouds, and the citizens had been turned into Things. Zombies wasn’t the right word for them. They were strange, oozing slime monsters, the same green as the cloud which no longer loomed over the world. They weren’t stable, if the puddles of green goo he found on his travels were any indication, but how long the Monsters lasted seemed to vary. He didn’t know what they were or how this was possible, but he at least knew that they burned. Sometimes, late at night, when his thoughts turned as dark as the clouds that now permanently hung in the air, he wondered how many friends and family he had to burn in order for he and Coco to make their escape.

Héctor blinked a few times, trying to refocus his eyes. They drifted to a lounge chair across the room.

That would burn up nicely.

His heart stopped and he looked down at his daughter sleeping in his arms. No, not now.

It wouldn’t take much. Just a little spark.

Stop it.

It didn’t stop. An image came to his mind. A little flame slowly overtaking the chair, the fabric burning and peeling away, the stuffing melting and sinking down to the wooden supports, the fire consuming it until it was nothing but an ashen husk…

He felt his hands getting hot and stretched them as far away from Coco as possible. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was freezing in the artic. Imagining the harsh, cold air sometimes fought the thoughts long enough for his hands to cool.

The heat slowly disappeared from his palms. He tested them on the couch, and when he left no singe marks, he carefully picked up Coco and set her back down again on the cushions. She stirred a little in her sleep, but thankfully didn’t wake. He slipped out of the room. If he could help it, he always stepped away from Coco when his mind went like this.

He wandered the halls and tried to force his mind to think of anything else, but the voice in his head refused to be ignored. It tugged at his consciousness, showing him tantalizing images of everything around him engulfed in flame. A discarded mop’s handle crackling and splintering, an orange glow traveling up the stage curtain, rows of theater seats lighting up like matches…

His hand flew to his chest and he clenched his fist around the amulet hidden beneath his shirt. He couldn’t recall what it was or why he had it. He suspected it took that memory from him like it slowly took away parts of his mind. He only knew he hadn’t had these thoughts before it latched on to him. It demanded fire from him. For a time, it was satisfied with the monsters he had to burn to survive, but the monsters were starting to disappear and it wanted more. It wanted a host, it wanted him.

Why me? he often wondered.  Why hadn’t it been found by a scientist or archeologist, or someone with a chance in hell of knowing what it was and how to control it.

I saved you, it told him. I saved your girl. You owe me.

“No. I am in control.”

Are you?

“I won’t feed you. You won’t get what you want from me.”

He’d tried at first. He tried sneaking away and setting small fires to silence it, ones that would easily burn out on their own and leave no  extra damage. It didn’t like that. It wanted to spread, to consume, and every time he used his powers, he found himself enjoying the flames in a way that terrified him.

When he had to go all out, when he had to fight to protect his daughter, he opened the door to let the voice creep in just a bit more. It would get stronger, whisper to him more frequently. He thought he could control it. The first time, when he and Coco made their escape from Santa Cecelia, he didn’t even know it was there. Each time after, it would be helpful, giving him ideas on how to fight and stay alive. But then, he let it in too much.

He couldn’t remember what exactly happened. He just opened his eyes and saw Coco crying from her hiding place. From the smoldering puddles of green all around him, he deduced that he’d just fought off a swarm of monsters. He reached for her, but she pushed him away. She said he scared her. That was when he saw the burn on her arm.

Without hesitation, he tore the amulet off and threw it in a pile of wreckage. Almost immediately after, he fell to the ground in agony. He could feel the flesh on his back burning, melting away. It was unlike any pain he’d ever experienced. Somehow, he knew the source. It came from the wounds he should have sustained in the flash. He wasn’t sure how long it took, but Coco slipped the amulet back around his neck and the pain disappeared.

If the situation had been different, he would have rather died than become the world-burning maniac the amulet wanted him to be, but Coco needed him. When he put it back on, he could swear the thing felt smug. It knew it had him trapped.

You won’t survive without me, it told him. You and your little girl would be dead if not for me.

And so he was forced to continue wearing it, hosting it, letting it whisper in his mind. But he had one thing over the amulet. It couldn’t start fires on its own. It needed Héctor as much as he needed it. He could resist its influence and exert his will over it. The amulet would not use his hands to cause destruction.

What more is there to destroy? What kind of world are you trying to preserve?

“Shut up.”

Why fight? Look around you. The world is just kindling now. Just let loose one little spark and it will all go up in flames.

“I won’t do it. The world is still worth something.” He couldn’t become a monster too. Coco had no one else. He needed to protect her. He needed to hang on.

What? For the girl? Why? What future could she have here?

He couldn’t even respond. It was a question he turned over in his mind constantly. They would survive, that much was for certain, but to what end? What kind of world was Coco growing up in? How long could they last? What would they do with their lives now that the world was seemingly over?

There is no point. Burn it down. That’s all you can do.

“Never. I’m done arguing with you.”

The voice continued to try to make its point, but Héctor tried to block it out. He knew this would only lead to the amulet switching from the voice to images, but he’d been getting better at occupying himself with other things. He had a lot of practice ignoring things he didn’t want in his brain, this voice just happened to be more persistent. That was all.

Héctor found his way to the stage. He walked up the edge and sat down, letting his feet dangle over the orchestra pit. How many greats once performed here? He wondered. And how many were even still alive? These halls were made to be filled with music. Would they ever be again?

They won’t. They never will again.

Héctor sneered defiantly. We’ll see about that.

He had a song in his mind already, one he’d been mentally writing on their long journey. Even if he had no guitar, or partner, or even an audience to play for, he was still a musician. Music was what he was, how he sorted out the world, and he needed it now more than ever.

He took a breath and his voice filled the empty space.

“Socorro, is it just you and me in the wreckage of the world?

That must be so confusing for a little girl.”

You? You think you’re good enough? You’re only good for one thing.

“And I know you’re going to need me here with you,

But I’m losing myself and I’m afraid you’re going lose me too.”

You see, there’s no point in fighting.

“This magic keeps me alive, but it’s making me crazy,

And I need it to save you, but who’s going to save me?”

You are mine. I will take you eventually.

“Please forgive me for whatever I do,

When I don’t remember you.”

He continued singing his song, keeping his thoughts only on Coco until the voice ran out of things to say. Though he knew what came next. The amulet would show him images of fire and burning that gave him a twisted pleasure that he hated. He’d grown able to resist the temptation. He’d tell himself It’s not me. It’s the amulet, over and over until it gave up.

Today, it tried something new. It showed him Coco. It showed her running up to him with a smile on her face. He picked her up and gave her a toss. When he caught her, she was crying. He put her down and realized that his hands had burned through her dress and left large red marks on her skin. She ran from him. He tried to catch her by her hand, but he burned her again.

What might happen if you never use your fire? If you never get an outlet?

It continued to show him more visions, each worse than the last. Images of Coco and the fire twisted together in his mind. It repulsed him, it horrified him, and yet the flames… No, no it’s not me. It’s the amulet. He thought he might be sick.

Don’t you want to keep her safe? Isn’t she worth it?

He knew the price: another small piece of his mind to quiet the amulet for at least a while.

Isn’t she worth it? It asked again.

Yes, yes, of course she was. He’d give the world for her. What was one more piece of his mind?

He got up and started looking around. Surely, he’d be able to find a metal trash can somewhere. He was still in control, and he still refused to let the fire burn wildly.

That would do nicely, the voice told him as his eyes landed on some discarded set pieces.

Yes, yes they would, he thought as he imagined the flames crawling across the wood. Maybe he didn’t need the can. Maybe, it he dragged those outside and let them burn out on their own and if they didn’t… He could feel his hands heating. Small twin flames flickered in his palms.

Loud, childish sobs echoed through the halls, accompanied by cries of “Papá!” His hands instantly went cool again. Abandoning his task, Héctor ran down the halls in the direction of the green room where he left Coco. He found her wandering just outside.

“Coco, I’m here,” He said in a soothing tone and he knelt down beside her. “What’s the matter?”

She threw herself into his arms and tucked her head beneath his chin. “I woke up and you weren’t there. It was dark. I got scared.”

“It’s alright. I just went for a walk. I’m here now.” He picked her up and carried her back into the room. “Let both get some sleep, eh?”

He laid down on the couch with Coco still clinging to him around his neck. “Don’t leave again, Papá,” she demanded through slowing sobs.

“Never,” he answered, gently petting her hair. “Want me to sing for you?”

He felt her nod and began singing her a lullaby. He focused purely on the feeling of his daughter in his arms, the sound of her soft breathing, and the warmth of holding her close.

This was why he fought, why he clung to his mind, why he couldn’t fall for the amulets tricks. If he couldn’t do it for himself or the rest of the world, he’d do it for her.  She was the world now, as far as he was concerned. He wouldn’t let his daughter grow up with a monster for a father.

“Papá,” Coco whispered, sleep in her voice, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Coco,” he whispered back as she drifted off. “My little flame.”

Song: I Remember You from the Adventure Time episode of the same name.

#coco #coco fanfiction #coco Pixar #hector rivera #coco rivera #coco au #adventure time au #mushroom war au #coco fanart #coco fandom #i remember you #everything stays #oopsie I made another au #and was supposed to be a oneshot #now its not #lol oops #sweetiepie writes

[emilysraincoat]

Please more theatre!au with Angel/Coco they are soo sweet 😍 maybe how they become a pair or Coco how deal with Angel's girl fans.

Coco’s hands are shaking. 

Emily’s voice is scratchy and hoarse, and she keeps coughing, saying she’s sick and she can’t run the scene with Angel in case it gets him sick as well. But Angel needed to practice, and naturally, Emily handed Coco her script to go on and help Angel rehearse. She says he’s perfect for the part.

Now he’s standing on the stage with his script in hand. In front of him Angel’s on his knees professing love, and it looks so real. It feels real. Coco isn’t sure if he’s more scared of that or the fact that people are watching him, judging him. In the wings he knows Ez is waiting with a prop, and in the audience he can faintly see Emily and the director scrutinizing Angel’s performance.

“I don’t know where I’d be without you. You’ve saved me from myself. When I had nothing you were right there with me, I- I can’t imagine living in a world where you’re not by my side.”

Coco swallows hard. He knows he has a line but he can’t make himself read and his voice is caught in his throat. Black threatens at the edge of his vision and he realizes he can’t remember the last time he breathed. Everyone’s waiting. He’s failing. He’s a failure. 

Then, suddenly, Angel is on his feet, kissing Coco and holding his face with a tenderness no one has ever used with him before. It’s chaste but lasts long enough for someone to whistle backstage. Sparks explode in Coco’s chest, threatening to bubble up out of his mouth and illuminate them more than a spotlight ever could.

“That wasn’t in the script,” he chokes out when Angel pulls away.

“No, it wasn’t.”

Angel kisses him again.

#idk how I feel about this one #theatre!au #anonymous

[im-fairly-whitty]

Fermata: A Ruy Chapter

“Fermata: A symbol that tells the performer to hold the note as long as s/he would like, but certainly longer than the written note value.”

A supplementary chapter to the Coco Villain!au. Two snapshots of Ruy and Iria’s relationship while alive, one near the beginning, one at the very end.

New York - June 1947 - Four years before Ruy’s death

Iria stared blearily at her bedroom wall, confused at why she had woken up in the middle of the night.

A breeze blew through the trees outside her window, the June night air rustling through the leaves. Her eyes were just drifting closed again when she heard something distinctly non-breeze-like outside her window, the quiet plucking of a ukulele.

She sat up, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table, dimly lit by the constant New York city glow seeping through the window blinds.

Why was he outside her window at three in the morning?

She had important meetings tomorrow. If she was smart she would stay in bed, she could ask him what he wanted in the morning. But...even if she was half asleep, she’d rather see him.

Iria stifled a massive yawn as she got out of bed and pulled on her bedrobe, the Maldonian crest stitched on one side. It took a minute to undo the several sophisticated locks on her balcony door, this was an official embassy building after all, but soon she was pushing open the sliding glass door and walking out onto her balcony.

She leaned on the railing, looking down for the soft sound of ukulele. There was no way she would have been able to hear it if her street wasn’t a quiet one, away from the hustle and bustle of the heart of the city.

There, two stories down and leaning into a rhododendron bush, was Rodrigo Rivera. He seemed to be staring at nothing, plucking idly at his instrument, the dappled street lamp light filtering down through the oak trees around him.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” Iria called softly.

There was a muffled twang as Ruy jumped, looking up in surprise, and then embarrassment.

“Lo siento, Estrella. I didn’t mean to wake you!” he stage-whispered, scrambling to his feet and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“You’re playing music outside my window in the middle of the night, what did you think was going to happen?” Iria whispered back. “You’re lucky it was me that woke up.”

“I was playing quietly.” Ruy said, holding up his ukelele as if to show her. “I apologize, I needed to think and my place is too empty. Please, go back to sleep, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Well you’ve already gone and bothered me,” Iria said, resting her chin on her folded arms, looking down at him with a smile. “do you have any other bothering in mind?”

Ruy grinned up at her, blowing a kiss in her direction. “Well...if you want to come with me, there is a place I would love to take you.”

“I’ll meet you at the entrance in five minutes.”

***

“Ruy, when you said “a place” I thought you meant going to a park, not breaking into Carnegie Hall!” Iria hissed.

“Shhh, it is not breaking in, we are just, visiting after hours.” Ruy said, a truly mischievous grin on his face as he pushed open a back door and pulled her into the shadows inside, confidently leading her deeper into the darkness. “It’s fine, I am conducting here later this week, they love me.”

“Oh? And do the security guards love you too?” Iria whispered, keeping close to him out of fear of running into something as he led her along, her heart racing in excitement. The wiser part of her knew she should pull him back...but where was the fun in that?

“I am Rodrigo Rivera, they have to love me.” Ruy said, she could hear the grin in his voice.

They turned into a dimly lit hallway with the whitewashed walls and linoleum flooring of a backstage area.

“Welcome to Carnegie Hall.” Ruy said, pulling her close and gesturing grandly at the utilitarian space with the ukulele in his other hand. “This is what musical success looks like, this is what the greatest musicians in the world get to see when they have made it to the top.”

“I’m incredibly impressed.” Iria chuckled, she smoothed a hand up his chest, “But if you were looking for someplace romantic I could have made a few other suggestions.”

“Ah ah, but you do not sound impressed.” Ruy teased, running an arm around her waist. “You are too good for backstage.”

“Backstage is fine, I just- Ruy, stop it!” She laughed as he nuzzled her neck, only half-heartedly trying to push him away.

“You are right,” he said, kissing her cheek before taking her hand again and pulling her down the hallway, “you are too beautiful for backstage.”

“Where are we going now?” Iria asked as he led them through several doors and into a carpeted hallway with much nicer decor, “We have to be quiet Ruy, we don’t-”

She gasped as he pushed open a heavier door, leading her into the huge expanse that was Carnegie Hall proper, the massive and ornate auditorium.

She’d been there to attend performances before, a few of them with or for Ruy, but seeing the enormous room completely empty, instead of crammed with patrons, was completely different. The balcony lights were all switched off and only half of the stage lights were lit, casting the room in deep shadows, the stage an island of warm cream light.

“We aren’t supposed to be here.” Iria whispered, feeling like she didn't have the right to make noise in such a silent and grand room. It felt almost like a library, but...for sound, instead of books.

“This is exactly where we’re supposed to be.” Ruy said, not lowering his voice at all. Sounding exactly like he belonged, or maybe like the hall belonged to him.

No. Sounding like he belonged to the hall.

Ruy led her up and onto the stage, setting his ukelele on the polished wooden floor and pulling her to the very center, putting them both into the middle of the light.

“Here we are.” he said softly, putting his hands on her hips. “No backstage for you, front and center, for everyone to see you.”

“You’re the only one here.” Iria said, reaching up and running her fingers through his hair.

“I hope that is alright.”

“It’s perfect.”

She leaned in and kissed him slowly, savoring the feel of his lips against hers, letting him deepen the kiss as he pulled her closer, gently tracing her fingertips along the line of his jaw. Ruy gently ran his hand up her sides, his mouth smiling against hers.

Iria gently pulled back from the kiss, looking into his starry eyes as she brushed back his shaggy bangs.

“Happy Birthday Ruy.” she said.

His eyes widened, his smile faltering. “How...did you know?”

“You’re an international musical celebrity Ruy,” Iria said, taking his hands, “it’s on the public record, even if you try to cover it up.”

“I just...don’t like everyone making a big deal out of it.” Ruy said, looking away.

“It reminds you of your family, doesn’t it?” Iria said softly.

“A bit.” Ruy said with a sigh, leaning against her, putting one hand on her waist and taking her hand in the other as he began to sway them back and forth. A simple, intimate waltz.

“That’s why you couldn’t sleep.” Iria said, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

“There are too many thoughts I have no place for,” Ruy said softly, “not when I can think about you instead.”

“Well I’m flattered you thought of me before alcohol.” Iria teased gently.

“Oh, Irititia,” Ruy said, pulling back to look at her face, “you are muy better than tequila. You cost less, there is no hangover, you make better conversation,” he leaned in with a smile, “your lips even have a better taste.”

Iria swatted his shoulder with a sound of mock indignation, but quickly dissolved into laughter, unable to stop laughing even as he kissed her again.

“Well, I’m glad I know where we stand.” Iria said, although she did feel genuinely pleased, she knew what a struggle he had with drink and even a joke like that didn’t come lightly from him, “I have a present for you.”

“You are the only present I need, you didn’t have to get me anything.” Ruy said, but he already looked curious.

“You know how you’re always begging me to sing?” Iria asked, smiling as his eyes already lit up. “I’m giving you a song for your birthday.”

“Rita, en serio?” he said, taking her hands, his voice ecstatic, “What song? What are you going to sing? And you have a stage too! I knew bringing you here was perfecto!”

“I’ll play too if I can borrow your ukulele.” Iria said.

Ruy nearly dove across the stage in his haste to retrieve the ukelele for her. He rushed back to her, handing it to her with a kiss on the forehead before excitedly jumping down off the stage, going to the front row of audience seating and perching himself on the back of one of the red velvet benches.

Iria smiled to herself as she kicked off her shoes and tested the strings on the instrument. She still didn’t know everything about Ruy, why he drank, why he didn’t sleep, why he held her like she was his last lifeline on earth, but it was alright.

She was patient and he was honest, and there would be plenty of time to talk things over when he walked her back home.

***

New York - October 1950 - Nine months before Ruy’s death

“Ruy, we can’t do this anymore.”

Ruy sat on the edge of the hospital bed, picking at the tape holding the IV in his arm instead of looking at Iria.

“You shouldn’t have to.” he said softly, trying to ignore the way his hands were still twitching involuntarily. “I’m sorry.”

“Ruy, look at me.”

He looked up. Iria would always be beautiful, but he couldn’t ignore the way her hair was haphazardly pulled back in a messy all-nighter ponytail, how she was still dressed in her now hopelessly wrinkled embassy clothes, her tired eyes, her permanently worried expression.

He wanted to take her in her arms, to kiss her worry away...but he had no right to even think about that when he was the cause of all of it.

“I was only gone for a week Ruy,” Iria said, “you were unconscious on the bathroom floor with so much junk everywhere that I didn’t know what to tell the paramedics you were high on.”  

“Probably cocaine I think.” Ruy said, wanting to look away, but not daring to.

“Where did you even-” Iria’s hiss trailed off into a sigh as she rubbed her eyes in exhaustion.

“Someone kept bringing some to the parties this week.” Ruy said, trying to remember anything from the hazy last few days, but it was a struggle. “I must have gone too far last night.”

“Not last night Ruy, no one’s heard from you in two days.”

Two days.

He’d been nervous when Iria announced she would be traveling for a week, but had done his best to put on a brave face for her. After all, they were both adults, he should be able to handle himself alone for a whole week.

But after only a couple days without her to calm him, to distract him, to help him stay grounded, his own thoughts had gotten too loud. Too loud to sleep or eat or even hear the music in his head anymore. And so even though he’d promised not to, he’d thrown a party Wednesday night, and another on Thursday, the loud noise and sea of faces and waves of alcohol distracting him from the dark thoughts crowding in on him from every side with no one around to anchor him.

He’d thought he’d thrown a party on Friday too, but if no one had heard from him in two days...

He hadn’t slipped up so badly in so long, not since he and Iria had gotten together, he hadn’t done the really hard stuff in ages, she’d always been more than enough excitement for him.

“I think we need to take a break Ruy.” Iria said, snapping his attention back to her.

“You mean for the weekend?” Ruy asked.

“I mean for a long time.” Iria said, biting her lip, her arms tightly folded. “I think, I think you rely on me too much, I think maybe you need some space.”

No. No.

Ruy gripped the edges of the hospital bed, fighting the overwhelming sense of vertigo gripping him.

“I know you can be better, I’ve seen you be better,” Iria said, her voice turning to a plea, “but maybe I’m holding you back. I can’t see you tearing yourself apart like this Ruy, I need you to pull yourself together, for both of us. Until then I think maybe I need to take a step back.”

But you’re what keeps me together.

I only want to tear myself apart when you’re gone.

When I’m with you I feel sane, I feel important, I feel worth something.

Please don’t leave.

But he couldn’t say any of the panicked things we wanted to.

She had never asked for this, to deal with a grown man who couldn’t even hold himself together for a week. She didn’t deserve to be with someone who couldn’t even stand to look in the mirror. He had known all along that he didn’t deserve her, that every moment they had together was stolen time.

He’d known all along that he would mess everything up somehow. And he’d finally done it.

He had no right to try and keep Iria when he already knew he didn’t deserve her, he couldn’t say a single word that might make her feel like he was trapping her. Even though every bit of him was aching to get on his knees and plead with her to stay. Even if he already knew that her leaving would be the end of everything.

Even if he knew her leaving would be the end of him.

“I can’t keep you here.” Ruy said, closing his eyes tightly against the tears that rolled down his face, too physically exhausted to even try keeping them back any more. “If you need to leave, then go, I am sorry.”

He felt her sit down on the bed next to him, pulling him close, cradling his head against her as he held her tightly.

“I don’t want to go,” Iria said quietly, “but if that’s what needs to happen then I’ll do it. You need to be better Ruy, I know you can be. This break will...it’ll be good for both of us. You can get cleaned up, I can focus on my work. When things have gotten better we’ll see each other again.”

Ruy said nothing, biting back the words in his head as he tried to memorize what she felt like.

Because he knew this was the end and his heart was breaking. He wasn’t going to get better, not without her, she was the only thing that had ever made him feel like he was home and now he was losing her. She would go on with her own life and be successful and amazing and beautiful, and she would meet someone much better than him. Someone who actually deserved her, because she deserved it.

“Alright.” he said, forcing the most painful half-smile of his life as he broke their hug, feeling like he’d just snapped off a piece of his soul. “We will take a break.”

“Are you sure?” Iria said, gently taking his face in her hands.

That alone was nearly enough to break him, nearly enough to get him to tell the truth, that this was going to kill him, that he needed her more than anything else in his life, that he was weak, that he couldn’t imagine any kind of future for himself that didn’t have her in it.

But she deserved better.

“Si, you’re always right Rita.” he said, “If you say you need space then space is what we must have.”

“Alright.” Iria said, tears coming to her eyes. “If that’s what you need.”

It wasn’t.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” Ruy said, pulling his hands away, picking at the IV tape again. “I’ll call someone to take me home.”

“I can still take you home.” Iria said.

“No, I need to not rely on you, si? I will be alright.” Ruy said, his false smile stronger now. He had to put on a show for her, if she drove him home he would break.

“I...alright.” Iria said, standing, looking lost. “I guess...I’ll see you later then?”

“It will be a happy reunion, we will both be better for it.” Ruy lied, pulling himself up onto the bed. “I am sorry, but I am very tired. Thank you again Iria, travel safely.”

She looked like she wanted to say something more as she hovered in the doorway. He wanted her to say something, anything, so he could hear her voice one last time.

But instead she bit her lip, the way she always did when she was trying not to cry.

And then she was gone.

Ruy stared at the closed door as the IV dripped into him, as his damaged body ached, as his broken heart bled.

She deserved better than him.

He slowly laid on his side, staring at the blank hospital wall as everything fell apart for good.

She deserved better than him.

#ruy #iria #rodrigo #ruia #coco #i have too many feelings for these children #too many

[zwei-the-penguin-with-a-pen]

‘Photograph’

Velvet sipped on her carrot cappuccino, the delicious orange liquid soothing her soul as well as her taste buds. She could not wait for Coco to show up and start this photoshoot. Velvet would never tire of photographing the beauty of Coco Adel, especially when the Daily Dust paid her for photos of her girlfriend.

Hopefully, her boss wouldn't find out that she was shagging her muse. Then again, he would probably just demand better photos. "You're sleeping with the broad, you should have better shots than THIS!" He would joke. It wouldn't be entirely joking, but Velvet would chuckle at him all the same.

Being the best photog around was not something Velvet took for granted. She worked diligently to make certain the Daily Dust had the first and most comprehensive photos for their news stories. Although snapping shots of construction sites or crime scenes Velvet did not find particularly amusing.

That's why she loved when Coco performed. Her favorite pop idol never disappointed in concert, and Velvet always got early entry and loads of other perks. Between working for the local newspaper and dating a famous pop idol, the benefits never seemed to stop.

Free carrot cappuccinos were not a bad thing, either. This coffeehouse made an exceptional blend, especially. Magical Mugs was right next to the Rooster's Teeth club, so it was normally a pretty busy shop.

Today it was especially busy since Coco was putting on a signing session there before the concert at the Teeth that night. There was a line of hopefuls with items to sign that stretched around the block. Coco was lucky she had a press pass AND a backstage pass from Coco and the band. Anyone that didn't recognize that pass would invoke the unholy wrath of Coco Adel, and truly nobody wanted that.

Velvet could hear cheering from outside. The van must have pulled up. She hoped Coco would make it inside without too much damage. Her fans could be a chaotic bunch, especially in large groups, but with Yatsuhashi around not many people would try to get that close.

Not to mention Blake and Fox, who would knock any intruder unconscious at a moment's notice. It was fortunate for Coco that she had all that muscle around her.

The four of them appeared through the back door of the shop. Velvet hopped up and ran for Coco, hugging her tightly and kissing her lips softly. Coco groped Velvet's rear in return.

"Hey, easy on the PDA! At least, no grab hands, please!" The barista implored them. Coco giggled at him, a longtime friend of hers.

"What's wrong, Cinna? Haven't had anyone to grab your tush in a while?" Coco joked. Cinnamon rolled his red eyes at her.

"Not that it's any business of yours, but no, Coco. I haven't had anyone to feel me up lately," he conceded.

"You think my bassist is cute? She's got nice hands!"

"She's also got a girlfriend! I won't be touching the behind of anyone who isn't Yang... at least not without Yang's permission," Blake retorted.

"What about my permission?" Yang asked as she walked in behind them all.

"Cinnamon is feeling a tad touch starved, and I was joking with Blake about her touching his butt," Coco answered. Yang laughed and rolled her eyes.

"I would have to supervise to make sure he doesn't touch her butt. DAS MINE!!!" Yang replied. It was Blake's turn to roll her eyes.

"You people are terrible! You haven't even asked this dude if he would allow me to grope him!" Blake rebuked. Cinnamon shook his head.

"I'd much prefer the hands of a single individual to hands that are committed to another. Also, I'd really like those hands attached to a dude..." Cinnamon chortled.

"So I guess I should get the signing booth ready..." Blake mentioned. She and Fox walked across the shop and began to set up everything for Coco's signing. Velvet wondered why the rest of the band never signed anything. Well, they signed autographs at shows, but these special signings were for fans that couldn't make it to concerts.

Still, wouldn't some of those fans like Blake's or Yatsu's autograph, too? Velvet pondered but made no mention of it; she had photos to take anyhow.

The crowd began pouring into the coffeehouse, splitting between the signing table and the line for purchases. Coco greeted everyone that passed her table politely. Some of them posed for pictures with Coco, and Velvet occasionally snapped photos of fans.

Her main focus was Coco herself, as that's what the news would want to see. Not to mention that she looked breathtaking as usual.

"You sure do like to take pictures of her..." Yang mentioned to Velvet. The rabbit girl let out an 'EEP' as Yang had startled her.

"It's my job, after all! And can you blame me? She always looks so incredible!" Velvet bragged on her favorite woman.

"You ever take any photos of you and her alone together?" Yang joked though she was legitimately curious. Velvet smirked at that.

"Not on this camera! I wouldn't want my boss to see Coco in any state of undress, and I sure don't want him to fantasize about my arse! This bum is only for Coco, and she appreciates it!" The bunny girl smirked even harder at her own words.

"Oh, is the little camera bunny a wild rabbit behind closed doors?" Yang goaded. Velvet snapped a shot before she attempted to answer, but she was cut off by Blake.

"Yes, Yang! Coco and Velvet are wild and freaky! And LOUD AS HELL!!" Blake nudged Velvet's side. "Aren't you, Chocolate Bunny?" Velvet blushed bright red.

"Hey, you can be as loud as the hell you want when you're making love!" Yang replied. "You should know that I feel that way, Kitty Cat!" Blake nodded at her blonde bomb.

"It's nice that you guys at least TRY to be quiet! I know it doesn't normally work for you," Blake said. She sympathized with Velvet, knowing full well Coco put it on her exceedingly well.

The autograph session ended soon, although it went long over its intended time. The band, Velvet, and Yang clamored across the street to the Rooster's Teeth to set up for the concert.

Coco Adel brought the house down, the way she always did. Velvet got tonnes of great photos of the performance. The boss would have to give her a raise for these pictures! She was even better than Peter Parker, or so she'd like to believe.

Coco and the band poured onto their bus, though they would be parked for the night so Velvet and Yang could stay with Coco and Blake. With three couples in tow, it was bound to be a loud and raucous night.

Velvet and Yang left the bus the next morning shortly before the band departed for their next destination.

"Well, that was a fun time!" Yang spoke aloud. Velvet nodded. "Say, you think I could see some of your shots?"

"Just a few. I've got to be at the Daily Dust in twenty minutes."

"I'll get us a taxi!" Yang announced, moving to hail a cab. Three stopped for her, and the two girls piled into one of them. She perused Velvet's camera, complimenting the snapshots the bunny girl had taken.

"If these don't get you a raise, then you need to find another paper to work for, hon!" Yang commented. Velvet shrugged.

"I'm pretty confident in my chances today! Although that might be from the laying I got last night... Either way, I'm totally getting a raise today!" Velvet cheered as she got out of the cab. She hugged Yang tightly before the cab sped off again.

Velvet could hardly believe her ears at her boss's words! He actually DID give her a pay raise. A promotion, even! She couldn't be happier! She took out her Scroll and messaged Coco about it, her lovely pop idol congratulating her on a job well done.

Velvet would never know how she had gotten so lucky.

\/\/\/\/\/ \/\/\/\/\/ \/\/\/\/\/

Day Twenty-Four: A Character That Didn’t Appear in V4 or V5

VELVET! Well, all of Team CFVY, but still.

Here, have more of the Idol AU where Coco is a pop star and Velvet works as a photog for the newspaper! That I only wrote one other time...

#RWBY #RWBYAC #RWBY Writing Challenge 2018 #Team CFVY #BRING BACK TEAM CFVY #Coco Adel #Fox Alistair #Velvet Scarlatina #Yatsuhashi Daichi #Crosshares #The Fox and the Pound #also Bumbleby #Blake Belladonna #Yang Xiao Long

[slusheeduck]

The Way You Keep Me Guessing: Coco Teacher!AU

@im-fairly-whitty and I are co-authoring this fic for the monster that is the Coco teacher!AU!!

(AU started by @scribblrhob, with inspiration from @upperstories, @hyucktor and SO SO MANY OTHERS AND IT’S A MAGICAL EXPERIENCE FOR ALL.)

Warning: I got creative with formatting and POV in this chapter, so I have no idea how it reads to someone who’s not me. Hopefully you enjoy!!

[Part 1: Unexpected Responsibility] [Part 2: La Directora] [Part 3: Skipping Class] [Part 4: An Unannounced Visit] [Part 5: The Roommate][Part 6: Día de Muertos (Pt. 1)] [Part 6: Día de Muertos (Pt. 2)]

Part 7: A Birthday Livestream

               The tweet goes out late on the 29th. Even so, by 6:45 a.m. the next day, the stream is packed. The cheery little “Stream will start soon!” sign is up, and the chat is already lighting up with thoughts about what the surprise stream’s going to be.

Littlebear119: I bet they’re releasing a new album!

veramaj: then héctor wouldn’t be surprised tho

Littlebear119: Truuuuuueee.

hectorriveraseyelashes: Do…you guys not know what day it is?

veramaj: what?

Littlebear119: It’s Sunday?

hectorriveraseyelashes: omg you guys don’t know lmao. Preciosooooos.

               The chat quickly devolves into “CRUUUUUZ” and “NESTO HI NESTO <3” as the stream switches on. The screen’s fairly dark, but Ernesto’s face is just visible as he whispers to the camera.

               “Hola, Cruzcitos. So I know a lot of you were upset that Héctor couldn’t be there with us on Día de Muertos.”

               There’s a general burst of agreement from the chat.

               “I know, I know.  So, since we couldn’t spend the day with you, I figured you all could spend the day with us.”

               There are several crying-face emojis and “!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”s in the chat.

               “And today’s no ordinary day. I’m sure some of you know it’s my amigo Héctor’s birthday today. So, Cruzcitos, we need to start the day off properly.” He switched the camera to face forward as he slowly opened the door. Beneath a heap of blankets, a gangly leg hung off the bed and a lanky arm was slung over a pillow. “Mira mira, here’s our Sleeping Beauty now,” Ernesto whispers as he creeps into the room. “And there’s only one way to wake someone up on their birthday.”

               The chat goes quiet as Ernesto sucks in a deep breath. He pauses when Héctor shifts beneath the blankets. Then, once he goes still…

                                       “ESTAS SON LAS MAÑANITAS                                        QUE CANTABA EL REY DAVID…”

               Héctor flies up off the bed as Ernesto belts “Las Mañanitas” as loud as he can, and immediately a pillow is thrown toward the camera.

               “Tú maldito hijo d—!!”

               “There are children watching this, Héctor!”

               “It is seven in the morning, tú pin—”

               “Cruzcitos, cover your ears!” A sweatshirt collides against the camera; both Ernesto and the chat are dying.

Littlebear119: OMGGGGGGG

musiica-vida: lmao

p0c0l0c0: I CAN’T BREATH OH MY GOD

veramaj: pobre hector but rip cruz

               The camera jostles as a thud that sounds suspiciously like a shoe hitting a wall rings out, and it quickly turns as Ernesto runs out and shuts the door. He switches the camera back to face him, a big grin still on his face.

               “So our Héctor might not be much of a morning person. But our celebration of Héctor’s birthday is just starting; come back around eleven for the next stream.” Ernesto ends the stream with his trademark wink and smile.

Littlebear119: Aw, boo, I can’t come to the next one :’(

p0c0l0c0: Don’t worry someone’ll record it.

hectorriveraseyelashes: I hope poor Héctor gets to sleep a little bit more.

~

               The next stream starts promptly at eleven. Another chorus of “HI NESTO!!!” and “CRUUUUZ” fills the chat, but Ernesto looks none-too-pleased. He lets out a sigh before sending a withering look to the camera.

               “So Cruzcitos, tell me this. What do you think is the best way to spend your birthday?”

               The chat rings in their answers.

hectorriveraseyelashes: Backstage passes to one of your shows.

hectorriveraseyelashes: And getting to pet Héctor’s hair for an hour.

veramaj: a nice dinner with my bf

musiica-vida: UM SORRY WHAT @hectorriveraseyelashes

hectorriveraseyelashes: You heard me.

Cruzita41: I would party ALL DAY!!!

               Ernesto nods at the answers that pour in (He does a double-take at one of them, and the chat is generally certain it’s hectorriveraseyelashes that earned it.), then huffs and shakes his head.

               “See, you all have good ideas on how to spend your birthdays. But Héctor…my friend Héctor decides that the best way to spend his birthday—”

               He turns the camera around, and the punchline of his joke is lost in the chat’s reaction.

musiica-vida: GLASSES?????

Cruzita41: GLASSES!!!!!

veramaj: since when does hector wear glasses?????

p0c0l0c0: GLASSES

musiica-vida: @HÉCTOR PLZ WEAR YOUR GLASSES ALL THE TIME

(hectorriveraseyelashes merely posts several crying faces and prayer hands)

               Héctor is tucked up on the sofa, green pen in hand and thick-framed glasses on his nose as he goes through several papers. Ernesto snorts as the reactions come in.

               “Héctor, look up.”

               Héctor sighs, but does in fact look up. “What?” he asks exasperatedly. (hectorriveraseyelashes floods the chat with various heart, crying, and prayer emojis)

               “Apparently you should wear your glasses more often.”

               “No.”

               (The disappointment in the chat is almost audible.)

               Ernesto sighs. “Sorry, Cruzcitos, but as you can see, Héctor Rivera is a tough man to sway. He won’t wear his glasses, and he spends his birthday grading papers.”

               “Well, they need to be graded by Monday. Do you have to shove that in my face? It’s hard enough reading these kids’ writing without a phone in my face.”

badnugg: omg profe héctor is actually youtube famous

musiica-vida: HE’S YOUR TEACHER??

badnugg: lol yeah

p0c0l0c0: IS HE A GOOD TEACHER???

hectorriveraseyelashes: IS HE HOT WHEN HE TALKS ABOUT MUSIC??

Littlebear119: I’m back!

Littlebear119: WAIT IS HÉCTOR WEARING GLASSES

veramaj: lol u missed a lot bear

               “Hey, Héctor, I think one of your students…” Ernesto trails off as the sound of a door opening comes from a distance. Héctor immediately perks up and smiles off screen.

               “Morning, chamaco. We’re going out for breakfast once I’m finished with these papers.”

musiica-vida: CHAMACO!!!!

p0c0l0c0: HI CHAMACO!!!

 Littlebear119: Who’s Chamaco?

hectorriveraseyelashes: It’s baby Héctor.

Cruzita41: Aww, did he just wake up? Buenos días, chamaco!!

Littlebear119: BABY HÉCTOR??

veramaj: it’s his nephew.

musiica-vida: Preeeetty sure he’s his kid. They look like exactly alike.

hectorriveraseyelashes: They definitely don’t. Also he calls Héctor Tío so checkmate.

Littlebear119: OH!!! HE’S SO CUTE!!!

               “The chat thinks you’re cute, Miguel,” Ernesto says as Miguel walks on-screen. Miguel sends him a surprised look and a shrug.

               “Thanks?”

               “Oyé, what did I say about filming Miguel?” Héctor asks, voice slightly sharp.

               “The kid has his own channel, it’s not like you’re hiding him,” Ernesto brushes off, then focuses the camera on Miguel. “So, Miguel, do you know what day it is?”

               “Uh, Sunday?”

               “Okay, but do you know the date?”

               Miguel presses his lips together, then looks down at Héctor for help. Héctor’s head falls back as he sighs.

               “It’s my birthday. Ernesto’s making it into a…thing.”

               Miguel’s eyes widen. “It’s your birthday?! Why didn’t you say anything?”

               “Because Héctor hates having fun,” Ernesto cuts in. “So Miguel, what do you want to wish your Tío Héctor on this very special day? He’s twenty-seven, you know.”

               Miguel blinks. “Oh. That’s how old you are?”

               Héctor returns to grading. “How old did you think I was?”

               “Super old. Like thirty-five.”

               The snort Héctor lets out is deemed pure and good by the chat.

               “Thirty-five?! Ay, Díos mio, then how old do you think Ernesto is?”

               “Anyway, Cruzcitos,” Ernesto says before Miguel can hazard a guess. “What are some of your wishes for Héctor’s twenty-seventh year on this earth?”

Cruzita41: I hope he has a wonderful year!!

p0c0l0c0: I hope he doesn’t join the 27 club :(

veramaj: what’s that?

Littlebear119: I hope you guys really make it big!! Being a teacher looks so boring

p0c0l0c0: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/27_Club

p0c0l0c0: Did the link work?

Littlebear119: OH NO :’(

veramaj: HÉCTOR PLEASE DON’T JOIN THAT CLUB

(hectorriveraseyelashes’ wish for Héctor is reported as inappropriate by several members.)

p0c0l0c0: Lashes plz

               “Aw, qué amable! Well, we are trying our best to get more gigs and…”

               Ernesto’s words are ignored, viewers instead focused on Miguel as he climbs onto the arm of the sofa and peeks down at what Héctor’s grading. Several heart emojis flood the chat as they talk too quietly to be heard over Ernesto’s talking. Héctor asks something, Miguel pulls a face, and Héctor laughs as he pulls off his glasses (much to the disappointment of the chat.)

               “All right, all right, I won’t let you starve, chamaco. I’ll bring these with me.” As he stuffs his papers into his backpack, he sends the camera with a withering look. “And if you bring out that—” The chat doesn’t miss the quick glance toward Miguel. “--darn phone while we’re out, Ernesto, I’m throwing it right into the street.”

               “And then you’re paying for it.” The camera switches back to Ernesto, where he gives a dramatic sigh. “Looks like that’s all for now, Cruzcitos.” He glances up as Héctor and Miguel’s voices trail off and a door shuts. He smiles, then adds in a whisper, “Come back around two. We’ll be having another stream then.”

               The screen goes black, and the chat is all abuzz.

Littlebear119: Héctor really doesn’t seem like he wants to do these streams…

p0c0l0c0: It’s part of an act they do. Héctor’s all smiles on whenever he’s on Chamaco’s channel.

Littlebear119: CHAMACO HAS A CHANNEL???

p0c0l0c0: YES AND IT’S THE SWEETEST THING.

p0c0l0c0: My heart grows three times bigger whenever I get a notification from him.

veramaj: yeah héctor’s definitely just playing.

Littlebear119: I hope he is.

hectorriveraseyelashes: I don’t care if he is. I’ll take any excuse to see that man’s beautiful face.

musiica-vida: WE KNOW, LASHES.

~

               The next stream starts without so much as a word from Ernesto. The chat goes quiet as the camera focuses on Héctor and Miguel. Both have their guitars in their lap, and Héctor picks out a simple tune.

               “Okay, no looking. See if you can play what I just did.”

               Miguel starts to pluck out the same tune, but he groans as he messes up a note. “It’s so hard!”

               “I know it’s hard, that’s why we’re practicing. You gotta train those ears just as much as your fingers, chamaco.” He plays the tune again. “All right, una vez más. I bet you’ll get it this time.”

querida9512: Can Héctor Rivera please be my dad?

p0c0l0c0: This is SO CUTE, I can’t handle it. Gracias, Nesto.

Littlebear119: Does Héctor know Ernesto’s filming?

veramaj: probably.

musiica-vida: It doesn’t seem like it, but I’m sure he doesn’t mind.

               A knock sounds out. Héctor doesn’t look up.

               “It’s open! All right, chamaco, play it one more time.” He turns and grins from his place on the floor as a woman pops her head in. “You’re just in time, diosa, Miguel’s just learned a song by ear.”

               The chat is a STREAM of activity.

querida9512: IS THAT THE POCO LOCO LADY???

hectorriveraseyelashes: Um, I am the Poco Loco lady.

Littlebear119: Diosa’s such a pretty name!

badnugg: wait, dire imelda?

querida9512: YOU KNOW HER????

badnugg: I think she’s the directora of my school…

badnugg: omg

badnugg: téodora was right about her and profe héctor

veramaj: she’s so pretty, she can’t work at a school

p0c0l0c0: Héctor works at a school.

veramaj: but she’s actually PRETTY.

p0c0l0c0: ARE YOU SAYING HÉCTOR ISN’T???

hectorriveraseyelashes: The rule in this stream is that we love and respect Héctor Rivera’s beautiful face.

hectorriveraseyelashes: Can we block @veramaj?

veramaj: omg u guys chill out

               Diosa smiles fondly as Miguel picks out the tune, correctly this time. (The chat is full of praise for him.) “Perfecto, Miguel. Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you remembered that our reservations are at—” She glances up midway through the sentence, then freezes as her eyes lock onto the camera. She quickly pops her head out and slams the door shut.

               Héctor jumps at the slam, then glances down at Miguel before setting his guitar aside to get to his feet. “Imelda? Imelda!” he calls as he heads to the door and steps outside.

               Miguel’s brow furrows, but he looks up at the camera with a shrug. The camera moves slowly to the door, and the barest bits of conversation can be heard through it.

               “Why didn’t you warn me? I would have texted you.”

               “Warn you about what?”

               “That your roommate was filming.”

               “What? No, he wasn’t.”  

               “Did you not see the way he was holding his phone?”

               “He just does that sometimes.”

               “Well, why don’t you go and ask him?”

               “He wasn’t filming! He knows he has to ask before filming if Miguel’s in the room.”

               “He doesn’t have to ask with you?”

               “It’s different. This is what we make part of our living off of. I’m used to it by now.”

               There was an irritated huff. “I can’t help you there. But you’d better be taking care of that little boy.”

               “I am, Imelda.”

               A thrill goes through the chat as Héctor’s voice, quiet as it is, goes sharp, though everyone quickly quiets as they hear his sigh.

               “I’m sorry. It’s…been a long day. Would you believe I woke up at seven?”

               There’s murmuring outside, but it’s too quiet to be picked up by the mic. What is picked up is the creak of a doorknob and a bitten-off word from Ernesto before the screen quickly goes black.

p0c0l0c0: So…he didn’t ask permission?

Littlebear119: I thought it was off.

dlcswaifu: I’m sure it’s fine. Cruz probably thought Héctor knew.

veramaj: i hope so. i don’t want them to fight.

~

               There’s no announcement when the next stream is, so everyone is pleasantly surprised when they get a notification that Ernesto y Héctor is streaming an hour later. The first thing everyone sees is…

p0c0l0c0: CHAMACO!!!!

Cruzita41: CHAMACOOOOOO

Littlebear119: AAAAA it’s Miguelito!!!!

veramaj: omg look at that precious face.

               Miguel’s brow furrows as he tries to figure out how to best hold the phone, but he grins at everyone’s greetings. “Hola! Cruz let me take over the livestream for a little bit!”

Littlebear119: OH MY GOODNESS HOW PRECIOUS!!!

veramaj: we’ve been blessed today

querida9512: I mean we already knew November 30 was a holy day.

musiica-vida: @hectorriveraseyelashes BE GOOD

p0c0l0c0: @hectorriveraseyelashes BE GOOD

veramaj: @hectorriveraseyelashes BE GOOD

dlcswaifu: @hectorriveraseyelashes BE GOOD

hectorriveraseyelashes: OH MY GOD YOU GUYS SHUT UP

hectorriveraseyelashes: Of course I’ll be good. My future step-son doesn’t need to know how thirsty I am for his tío.

               Miguel’s eyes dart down to the chat, reading the responses before frowning slightly. “Um, I don’t think you can drink my tío.”

               The chat collectively dies.

Littlebear119: So how are you doing, Miguel????

Cruzita41: We saw your practice earlier, you’re so good!!

dlcswaifu: Where’s Cruz???

               Miguel grins brightly as he catches the praise among the questions, then settles back in his seat. “I’m fine. Tío Héctor said that he and Cruz needed to talk for a bit, so Cruz set me up here so I could talk with you all!”

               There’s one comment from quetzalcoatl-kun about how they came for Cruz and not some stupid kid, but it’s quickly drowned out by the wild enthusiasm from other Cruzcitos over how they get to talk to Chamaco.

 musiica-vida: So big fandom question, are you Héctor’s kid or his nephew?

               “Actually, we’re primos! My abuelita is his tía,” Miguel chirps.

dlcswaifu: So do you live with him?

               “I do for now.”

dlcswaifu: Why?

               Miguel opens his mouth, but closes it and swallows hard without answering. The chat is quick to flood him with other questions.

p0c0l0c0: Is your tío a good teacher?

querida9512: You’re a fan of Cruz, too, right? What’s it like living with your YouTube idol?

hectorriveraseyelashes: On a scale of 1-10 how willing would you be to have me be your new tía?

veramaj: have u been to any of their concerts yet?

hectorriveraseyelashes: There hasn’t been a concert with both of them since Chamaco came around.

musiica-vida: Not that we mind! It’s so sweet to see Héctor taking care of his primo <3

veramaj: he could have gone to one before he lived with héctor

Littlebear119: What’s your favorite subject in school, Miguel?

querida9512: And when’s the next update on your channel?

               “Espera, espera, this is a lot!” Miguel laughs, discomfort gone as he scrolls up through the chat. “Tío Héctor’s a really good teacher, even though he keeps making me do boring things like scales. I used to watch Cruz’s videos to figure out how to play better, but now I can just ask him!” He scrolls a little more. “I really like math. Is that weird? Oh! And P.E.! I’m definitely the fastest on my class’s fútbol team.” He shrugs. “And I don’t really know about updates, I—” He stops suddenly, glancing up as a sharp voice comes from somewhere, just loud enough to be picked up over the mic. “I, uh…” He glances back at the phone. “One second.”

               He sets the phone down, livestream still going on. A creaking door is picked up over the mic, and the two voices are a little clearer. Nearly every viewer turns up their volume to max to catch what’s being said.

               “You’re absolutely sure you weren’t filming?”

               “Honestly, Héctor, it’s not like I can do it by accident. You’ve gotten so paranoid since bringing in the kid.”

               “I’m his godfather. I’m supposed to be.” A frustrated sigh. “Look, I’m done, okay? I don’t want anymore filming today. Just let me enjoy my birthday in peace.”

               “We wouldn’t have to do this if you’d come to the Día de Muertos show, you know.”

               “But you couldn’t even ask me before you burst in at seven a.m.?”

               “It wouldn’t have been funny if you knew. And it’s gotten us a stable audience all day.” There’s a beat of silence, then a long sigh. “Look, I’m sorry you’re bothered. I thought you’d be more game for this. Guess I was wrong.”

               “It’s…it’s fine. Just no more filming Miguel unless I know.”

               “I didn’t.”

               “I know, but you might. And if I find that damned iPhone around him I swear…”

               Miguel gives a little gasp, and quick footsteps come back toward the phone before he’s back onscreen.

               “Gotta go! I’ll see you all around!” he says, then quickly ends the livestream.

Littlebear119: So Héctor really didn’t know…

musiica-vida: Did…Ernesto lie to him?

dlcswaifu: He probably didn’t know he was filming.

querida9512: But he just said that he couldn’t do it by accident.

dlcswaifu: I’ve done a lot of dumb things by accident without knowing I could. He’ll probably delete the footage once he realizes.

veramaj: i think it’s scripted. cruz’s done drama things in the past; maybe the views are down.

musiica-vida: Ooh, that’s a good point. I think you’re right.

dlcswaifu: Nothing gets views like a fight and a kid.

Littlebear119: :/ I dunno. I feel weird about this stream.

~

               The last livestream comes late that afternoon. Once again, there’s no notice before the notification goes off on everyone’s phone, and everyone who can manages to pile in to the chat as quickly as possible.

               There’s a general air of confusion as they get a very nice shot of the kitchen.

               “Is it recording now?” Héctor asks off-screen.

               “I can’t see. Is there a red circle?” comes Miguel’s voice. The camera tilts, shifting the view to the ceiling. “Yeah, it’s recording, but you’ve got the wrong camera on.”

               “How do I change it?”

               “You see that camera button? Just tap it.”

               “Just tap—” The camera abruptly switches to selfie-mode, and Héctor’s obviously startled by it. “Ah! Okay! Okay, there we go. Hola!”

               The chat is FULL of heart emojis and !!!!!!!!!!!!!’s.

p0c0l0c0: FELIZ CUMPLEAÑOS, HÉCTOR!!!!

musiica-vida: FELIZ CUMPLEAÑOS!!!!!!!

Littlebear119: FELIZ CUMPLEAÑOS!!!!! <3 <3 <3

(Needless to say, the chat is flooded with “FELIZ CUMPLEAÑOS”es.)

Héctor looks caught off-guard by the response, then laughs. “Gracias, gracias! I’m, ah, I’m not really good with this whole livestreaming thing, but I wanted to thank you all for such wonderful wishes!”

musiica-vida: IT’S NOTHING WE LOVE YOU HÉCTOR <3 <3 <3

hectorriveraseyelashes: That blazer tho…

Littlebear119: We all hope you had a wonderful day!!!!

               “That’s, ah, that’s really all I have to say. I actually have to leave in…” He glances off-camera. “Now. But I wanted to let you all know that I appreciate your…” He trails off as the chat bursts to life again.

hectorriveraseyelashes: GLASSES.

p0c0l0c0: YES PLEASE WEAR YOUR GLASSES.

p0c0l0c0: JUST FOR A SECOND.

musiica-vida: HÉCTOR PLZ. DO IT FOR US.

hectorriveraseyelashes: GLASSESSSSS…

               He sighs as he looks over the chat. “Diosa, look at this.”

               The woman from earlier (“IMELDA!!!” as musiica-vida pointed out), just peeked over Héctor’s shoulder to look at the chat, then tilted her head up with a smirk.

               “See? It’s not just me who thinks you should be able to see.”

               “I can see just fine.”

               “It took you three times to hit the record button,” Miguel pipes up from off-screen.

               “Here.” Imelda looks down as something that sound suspiciously like a glasses case opens, and she holds up the glasses. “You should at least do it for your fans. And for me.”

               Héctor rolls his eyes, but smiles a bit as he leans down slightly so Imelda can slip them on. “Only if you wear your hair down on your birthday.”

               “Deal.” She smiles at him as he stands up straight and pats his cheek. “Muy guapo, cariño.”

               He shakes his head, then looks back at the camera. The chat has devolved into a mess of “SO CUUUUUTE!!!” and “SÍÍÍ MUY GUAPO” and more sparkle emojis and hearts than could be counted. (Save for hectorriveraseyelashes, who floods the chat with crying emojis.)

               “Well, that’s it for today. We really do appreciate your guys’ support, and thanks again for being part of one of the most memorable birthday’s I’ve ever had.” He gives a little wave with his free hand. “Adíos!”

               The video ends, and the chat is beside itself with delight—all the drama from the last stream completely forgotten.

Littlebear119: They’re all so cute I just can’t.

musiica-vida: I KNOOOWWW

hectorriveraseyelashes: I don’t know if I want to KILL Diosa or BE Diosa.

p0c0l0c0: Please choose “be”

hectorriveraseyelashes: FINE.

hectorriveraseyelashes: For now.

hectorriveraseyelashes: Those glasses, tho

dlcswaifu: I’M A CRUZ FANGRIL AND I LOVE THOSE GLASSES???

hectorriveraseyelashes: I found God in those glasses tonight.

badnugg: omg i can’t wait for school tomorrow.

hectorriveraseyelashes: #jealous

veramaj: i’m just so glad that everything’s all right. i knew it couldn’t be a real fight. cruz is way too nice for that.  

As always, thank you so, so much for reading! Wit’s got the next installment, so be sure to check over her way in the next week or so! Also we have tons of headcanons we’re ready to scream about at any given moment, so don’t be shy and come talk to us!

 Also, if you like my screaming-in-written-form and want to indulge my caffeine addiction, feel free to buy me a coffee (or not, of course.)

Thanks once again, and we’ll see you around!

#coco fic #teacher!AU #OH MY GOD I POSTED AT A DECENT HOUR #CAN YOU BELIEVE IT #IT'S NOT THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT #Also the formatting isn't a complete nightmare and I am LIVIIIIIING #hector #ernesto de la cruz #miguel rivera

[pencopanko]

Backstage X Bar Boys Part 1: Rafael

Shortly after filming and promotions for "Coco" is completed, Héctor and Ernesto decide to visit a new bar in town. There they meet three men, two of which also work in the industry but to varying levels while the other one is the bartender/owner of the bar.

Let's talk about Rafael Herrera Meza first:

Rafael Herrera Meza is a triple threat in the industry, and is the second Latino entertainer ever who has won an EGOT (followed by Robert Lopez, another talented songwriter who co-wrote "Remember Me" with Héctor), while also working as a talent scout/music producer. His charisma stage presence is on-par with Ernesto's and Héctor's, and his baritone voice is second to none. However, off-stage he is a shy and anxious man with the driest humor known to mankind.

He used to act in telenovelas, movies, and musical theater during his prime as an actor before making music production his main thing.

If you think Imelda Rivera's social media life is private, Rafael's is even more private nearly to the point of nonexistence. Nobody knows anything of him outside of his career. His strong feelings towards the paparazzi, his age (he's around forty or so, and yet he already has a few streaks of white on his jet black hair), and his familial connections to the Herrera Oil Company also play a role in making him extremely private. He is also very rarely seen on interviews and social events, unless he has an obligation to attend.

Because of how private he is, whenever a project is revealed and Rafael is somehow involved it is considered as a major cultural event. The thing is, he also up in the most unexpected places. One minute you can see him as part of the cast for a Hispanic remake of Parks & Recreation as its equivalent to Ron Swanson, then the next time you see him he is on the cover of Vogue México along with his longtime friend/protégé Ronaldo, and then you see his name in the voice actor credits part of a video game or an animated series, then you see his name as the producer for México's greatest hit of the season, and if you are extremely lucky you can even see him sing with the local mariachi just for the fun of it.

He is very embarrassed to admit it, but he is more than aware of how women see him. Particularly younger women. Their reaction towards him is similar to how people see men like Pedro Pascal, Hugh Jackman, and Oscar Isaac. He did think of becoming a father before deciding on the life of an eternal bachelor, but being called "daddy" or "papí" in this context is not what he signed up for. He does appreciate the gifts from fans. After his trusted secretary Brenda sorts through them, of course.

He is just as shy and anxious as he is private, and this goes up by the tenfold when he is with a woman he is romantically interested in. And it just so happens that the woman he has been crushing on for a while is none other than the renowned opera singer/actress, Rosita Álvarez, who was also a supporting actress for "Coco" as Tía Rosita. Héctor and Ernesto, along with Miguel have been trying to set a date for the two of them.

Rafael met Rosita during a charity concert the both of them were a part of. Rafael was impressed with Rosita's soprano and wished to work with her. Well, that's what he would tell you. In reality, he was smitten the moment their eyes met when it was his turn to get on stage. Rafael noticed Rosita gazing at him from her seat, and before he knew it he winked at her as an attempt to flirt.

News of Rafael Herrera and Rosita Álvarez dating was well received by fans of both parties, with references to them being the cutest middle-aged couple. Their relationship is also just as private as Héctor and Imelda's, if not more due to Rafael's dislike of paparazzi and the fact that paparazzi don't go after opera singers that much either, much to Rosita's delight.

After around three years of dating, they got married at a church near Rafael's childhood home in Jalisco. The wedding was simple and was only attended by family and friends including the cast of "Coco", but due to Mamá Herrera's insistence on something more lavish for the two of them she gifted Rafael and Rosita tickets for a cruise all around the world. Photos of them on their honeymoon started circulating online and people loved their wholesome vibe, even long after their honeymoon.

#penco's content intermission #interludo #coco pixar #pixar coco #coco backstage au #coco au: the bar boys #coco oc: rafael herrera #yupyupyup #oc x canon #rafita #ernesto de la cruz #héctor rivera #miguel rivera #rosita rivera

[indoraptorgirlwind]

ANT-MAN COCO AU PART 3

When Scott and Peter arrived at the talent show, Peter saw that there was a lot of people wanting to develop the same song.

"I never thought you were a musician"

"Come on Pete, with a handsome face like this, you didn't think i would let go the oportunity to play music for the mujeres and niños, right?" Scott answered and paused as if he remembered something. He shaked his head like he did before and changed the topic

"What are you gonna sing anyways?"

"Remember me!" Peter answered too confident

"No no, not that one"

"Why?" Peter whined

Scott pointed at the rest of the concursants, and they were all auditioning for the same song Peter wanted

"How about...un poco loco?" Peter asked, delighting Scott with the new choice

"I'm a little nervous" Peter confessed "this is my first perfomance"

"What?!" Scott interrupted "no no no kid, your life literally depends on your win! And you say you have never perfomed before!?"

Scott calmed down and tried to train Peter to do a grito, only for Peter's pitched "grito" to horrorize Scott and Cosmo. Scott just dragged Peter to the scenario and reassured him that he would do it just great, and just when Peter was about to get a panic attack, he made a grito that amazed the public. Peter started singing with more confidence and even made Scott join the perfomance. But just at the end of the show, there was something that caught Peter's attention. His dead relatives were searching through the crowd for him, and in a way to not get caught by them, he dragged Scott to the backstage to hide.

When Scott discovered that these people were Peter's family, he stopped him.

"You said you didn't have a family here!" Scott yelled

"Well yes i do but" peter stammered

"You could have put up my photo!" Scott interrupted

"But they hate superheroes!" Peter snapped

"You lied!" Scott interrupted

"As if you didn't do it allways" Peter said, but Scott just ignored the sarcasm and proceeded

"Peter, look at me, i'm being forgotten. I don't even know if i'm going to make it to the night!" He then tried to carry Peter by the arm to take him to his family

"you're gonna go home by your own good!"

"You don't want to help me! You just care about yourself!" Peter snapped once again and took Scott's photo from his jacket and threw it away. "keep your dumb photo! Stay away from me!" He yelled at Scott and ran, quickly dissapearing from Scott's view.Scott tried to follow him, apologizing. But he had lost track of the kid.

At a moment, Cosmo tried to stop Peter, but he just snapped calling them a bad dog and running away. When Peter was about to go away, the giant ant alebrije landed and roared at him, Hope riding it's back.

"Stop running Peter, you're going home right now!" She scolded

"No! I don't want your blessing!" Peter yelled and made it to a door where Hope couldn't pass. When Peter was about to go away, Hope tried to stop him with a phrase

"It's not about saving our world, it's about saving theirs" she said softly, catching Peter's attention

"I thought you hated superheroes?"

"Oh, i loved them. I'll never forget that feelling. When my husband and i got into missions and nothing else mattered" she sighed "but after Cassie was born, i realized there was something more important than that"

"Then why won't you support me?" Peter cried "that's what a family does, support each other... but you'll never understand" then he wiped some tears and escaped, leaving a worried Hope watching her great great grandson flee once again.

When Peter arrived at Cross' party, he tried to convice a guard to let him in, but after failing he saw the musical group that won the contest and got close to them. He asked them to hide him and take him to the party, which they gladly accepted and when Peter entered, he got amazed once more.

And just in front of him, walking inside, there was the same and only Darren Cross. Peter tried to get his attention but he was too busy chating with other people. When he got the idea to play a characterisitc song. This caught everyone's attention, and Cross wasn't the exception. Suddenly, when Peter was aproaching him, he fell to a pool. Cross quickly reacted, throwing himself into the water and getting the kid out. When Peter breathed for air and after his makeup fell by the water, he turned to look at Cross

"You're alive" Cross gasped "you're the boy! The living boy everyone talks about"

"Y-yeah, my name's Peter, i'm your great-great-grandson and i need your blessing before sunrise"

"You're my great-great grandson? I have a great-great-grandson everyone!" He announced excited, showing the kid to everyone at the party.

#Ant-man #Coco au #Scott lang #Peter parker #hope van dyne #darren cross

[imaredshirt]

Tagged by @sweetiepie08, thank you!! =D 

I think this was supposed to be the first sentences of 10 fics, but I’ve gone a bit overboard and included the first paragraphs for some. Tagging everyone who wants to give it a shot!!

First few sentences for The Reunion (Coco)

By now, the Department of Family Reunions was a familiar sight for Héctor. He’d lost count of the hours he’d spent there after some rather embarrassing--but valiant!--attempts to cross the bridge on Dia de Muertos. Held up in some stuffy office, listening to some bored Corrections Officer rattle off every little offense he’d committed. 

First paragraph for An Eon (Coco, Imector)

On a warm night in the spring of 1920, Héctor Rivera followed his wife down the hall to their room, laughing as quietly as possible at her whispered commands for silence. She smirked back at him, very much aware of his inability to remain quiet when he was this giddy, and lightly pinched his side in retaliation. He yelped then covered his mouth, laughing into his palm, as she pulled him into their room.

First 4 sentences of Among Friends (Coco, AU)

It took a while for the realization to sink in.

If Héctor had not seen the same vial before, he would never have given it a second thought. But the moment the little glass bottle had toppled off the table behind Ernesto and fallen to the floor, his eyes catching enough of a view to recognize it before it shattered, he’d known. He’d remembered.

First 3 sentences for On Naps and How Soon They Should Be Taken (Star Trek, Spones)

“Bridge.”

The doors of the turbolift slid shut. McCoy leaned back against the wall and rolled his shoulders, eyes squeezed shut against the pain of aching, stiff muscles, and the early signs of what promised to be a killer headache.

First few sentences to The Element of Surprise (Star Trek AOS, Spones)

“We must jump, Doctor!”

Doctor McCoy took a single step towards the edge of the cliff, peered over the edge, then turned an incredulous look on Spock.

“Jump? Into that? Have you lost your goddamned mind?”

First two paragraphs to Through the Secret Paths (Coco, Dante’s POV)

Chicken was amazing. Pork was amazing. Beef was incredible. Shoes were pretty good, too. And bread! Dante loved bread. Dante loved anything he could get his teeth on, actually, and especially food that was handed to him by his family.

Sitting beneath an open window, tail whipping back and forth, Dante licked his chomps and stared fixedly at the wrinkled face looking out at him.

First paragraph to Before the Sunrise (Coco, Imector)

The first rays of sunlight fell over Imelda’s face, and she squinted at the window facing her. In an attempt to fight the dry summer air, she’d left the window open overnight, hoping to let in the occasional cool breeze. She’d also pulled the thin curtains off to the side and tied them securely so they didn’t fall over the window while she and Héctor slept, and there they fluttered, bordering the window that was open to the rising sun and a blanket of dark, slow moving storm clouds.

First few sentences to Through the Broccoli Plants (Star Trek AOS, Spones)

“Doctor, if you continue to struggle, you will make our journey infinitely more difficult.”

“I’m not struggling,” McCoy snapped, and adjusted his arms around Spock’s neck. “I’m trying to get comfortable.”

First few paragraphs to the first story arc in When Nightmares Lead (Coco, Imector)

Imelda wanted to go home.

Mexico City was dark around her. Night had fallen by the time she left her hotel room in a huff, and the early December air chilled her skin. She had planned to leave earlier, but she and Señor Fuentes had arrived in the city later than they’d hoped, and Señor Fuentes had left in a hurry to meet his business partner before their meeting time passed.

“Tomorrow, Imelda,” he’d told her just before leaving. “We’ll find him tomorrow. It’s too late now, and I can’t miss this meeting. You understand, of course?”

First paragraph to Con Pan Dulce (Coco)

The Battle of the Bands had just begun, and Miguel’s nerves were getting the best of him. Over on the stage, a rock band was belting out some hard, heavy notes that were loud enough to send vibrations backstage and through the box Miguel was sitting on. He could feel it in his teeth. Even Héctor’s bones were jittering on every other note, but the spirit didn’t seem to pay it any mind. The music was loud enough to reverberate in Miguel’s head. The crowd, on the other hand…

[coco-colada]

Rétrospective - Les 5 meilleurs albums de Joe Rocca parus en 2020

Le rappeur québécois Joe Rocca. membre du collectif Dead Obies,  a connu une année particulièrement productive, offrant à ses fans plus d’une quarantaine (!) de projets. Pour vous permettre d’explorer plus facilement l’œuvre colossale de Rocca, Coco-Colada vous propose un palmarès compilant ses cinq meilleurs albums de 2020.

Cette liste se concentre sur les LP de Rocca, et ne prend donc pas en compte ses singles, EP, albums live, mixtapes, et livres audio.

5. J’adore faire le sexe (avec ta girl)

Rocca a d’abord fait sa marque dans le milieu du rap keb en traitant avec sensibilité du sujet tabou de la sexualité hétérosexuelle. Il perfectionne et pousse le sujet à son apogée avec J’adore faire le sexe (avec ta girl), où il rappe à propos de ses prouesses au lit sans aucun complexe. C’est, certes, un LP plutôt sage pour le rappeur, mais l’exécution parfaite du projet RnB mérite d’être célébrée, si ce n’est que pour faire rayonner un point de vue souvent oublié dans le monde musical contemporain, soit celui de Joe Rocca.

4.  Rap Noël

Surprise générale, alors même que j’écris ce palmarès, Rocca crée la commotion sur les réseaux sociaux en lançant un album de Noël. Après avoir pris le temps d’écouter la quasi totalité du projet, je n’ai d’autre choix que de l’inclure sur cette liste. Rarement un album de Noël a su allier aussi habilement les classiques du temps des fêtes avec le hip-hop moderne. À coup sûr, des chansons comme Petit papa Rocca et J’ai vu ma mom kiss Santa se retrouveront dorénavant parmi les classiques dans les playlists des fêtes.

3. Je décapite Fouki on sight

En Juillet dernier, Rocca prouve à nouveau que sa créativité n’est pas limitée par les frontières arbitraires d’un genre. Sur ce double album de blackened death metal, Rocca déchaîne son aversion envers son collègue du rap keb, Fouki. Avec des pièces intitulées  Dé-Zay-dé, Lacération backstage et Crucifixion Keb (feat. Koriass), inutile de préciser que ce projet n’est pas pour les âmes sensibles. Bien que Rocca semble avoir été grandement affecté par ce conflit avec Fouki, les 36 diss tracks brutales qu’il a généré forment, au moins, un délice pour tous les amateurs de death metal et de Joe Rocca.

2. COVID69

Par sa vision audacieuse, COVID69 réussi à se démarquer des autres albums de Rocca traitant de la pandémie, se taillant une place parmi les projets phares de l’artiste en 2020. Unissant des beats à la fine pointe de la production électro-pop et des textes brillants sur la situation actuelle, cet album concept réussit le tour de force d’être aussi catchy qu'il est pertinent. Racontant l’histoire d’amour fatale entre un militant anti-masque et une femme infectée par la covid, Rocca s’aventure en terrain glissant, mais les risques qu’il prend s’avère payants, puisqu’il en résulte un album exceptionnel.

1. Paint de lait

Chaque liste de fin d’année amène son lot de controverses, et celle-ci n’y fera probablement pas exception, en partie puisque c’est l’album polémique Paint the lait que je me dois de positionner en tête de ce palmarès.

Ce projet de 52 minutes lancé par Rocca au début du mois de décembre, est une œuvre complètement champs gauche, ayant exclusivement pour thèmes le programme Microsoft Paint et l’industrie laitière québécoise. Toutefois, pour pallier le caractère intimidant que peut avoir ce projet de rap expérimental, Rocca a prit soin de ne pas s’aliéner le grand public en s’entourant d’une pléthore de collaboratrices et de collaborateurs de renom. Marie-Chantal Toupin, Angèle, Joël Martel, Fouki et Beau Dommage ne sont que quelques uns des artistes présents sur Paint de lait. Rocca réalise un coup de maître en faisant travailler cette multitude de voix sur des beats plus expérimentaux que jamais.

Produisant lui-même l’entièreté du projet, Rocca n’hésite pas à casser le moule en utilisant des samples audio innovants, échantillonnant par exemple, le son d’un pis de vache, donnant au LP une facture sonore totalement unique, tout en dénonçant les travers de ce que l’on surnomme «l’industrie de l’or blanc ».

Paint de lait changera assurément la donne pour le futur de la musique au Québec. Ce projet est un incontournable, non seulement de l’année 2020, mais également de la discographie complète de Joe Rocca.

Pour finir, il est à noter que dû à la Covid, Rocca est actuellement toujours confiné dans un chalet avec tous les artistes qui ont collaboré avec lui sur Paint de lait. On leur souhaite évidemment bon courage. Mais qui sait? Cette quarantaine amènera peut-être le groupe à se laisser tenter par une suite. 😅

#joerocca #joe rocca #rocca #deadobies #RnB #rap #pop #blackened death metal #j'adore faire le sexe (avec ta girl) #rap noël #je décapite fouki on sight #covid69 #paint de lait #fouki #joël martel #top 2020 #music list #palmarès musical #critique de musique #critique #coco-critique #Coco-colada #humour #Montréal #montreal #mtl #franco

[im-fairly-whitty]

Old Habits Die Hard

Coco One-shot Fanfic

An absolutely ridiculous (yet canon-consistent) one-shot of the Dead Riveras sneaking into the Sunrise Spectacular. 

A writing request from @goodtimesbadmusic and @mayu-nakashima to go along with this fanart of a completely flabbergasted Imelda and Miguel. x)

------

“Now approaching the De la Cruz Sunrise Spectacular, please make sure all tickets have been purchased well in advance.”

Miguel looked up at the box where the sky trolley’s recorded voice had come from, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Tickets?” Imelda asked, shooting a hard look at Hector, “we’re in the land of the dead and that serpiente is still charging people to hear him caterwaul into a microphone?”

Hector shrugged with an uncomfortable smile, making a non-committal noise. 

It hurt Miguel to see how wounded yet eager he was every time Imelda gave him any attention at all, regardless of how barbed it was. It was like watching a stray cat be kicked every time it hesitantly tried to rub against someone’s ankles.

“Hector, we don’t have tickets, how are we going to get backstage?” Miguel whispered.

He was the only Rivera who had dared to sit close to him the entire trolley ride. No one else was brave enough to tempt Imelda’s confused irritation, having been so recently disengaged from Hector her rage was loose and fast, hitting anyone who got too close.

“If we can get to Frida we’re gold, chamaco.” Hector said, but Miguel could see he was gripping the edge of the straw hat in his lap just a little too tightly. “She already hates Ernesto for being a lazy performer, I can guarantee that once she knows he’s a murderer she’ll come up with some crazy idea of how to get us close to him no problem.”

“But how do we get to Frida then? Through Ceci’s window?” Miguel asked, thinking of how they’d gotten into the rehearsal a few hours earlier. Wow. Had it really only been a few hours?  

“Through who’s window?” Imelda snapped from the other side of the trolley.

“Oh, Imelda, you remember Ceci Rodriguez?” Hector said, perking up with an unbearable bit of hope in his eyes, “She’s a seamstress for the production crew at the Spectacular, she finally got her dream job as a costume designer. Well, after death anyway. She’s helped me a few times over the years.”

For the first time during the trolley ride Imelda’s face softened, just a bit.

“Oh my, Ceci?” she said, an old memory lighting her eyes, “I haven’t thought about Ceci in years, she died so long before I did. Is she still as-” But imelda shook her head, swatting her hand in front of her face as if to push the memory aside. “No, that doesn’t matter right now, can she get us in or not?”

Hector scratched his goatee, “No, I think we’ll have to find a different way past security. I don’t think she’ll be at all happy to see me right before the show starts. Besides, I’ve already lost one of her dresses today.”

“You lost one of her what?” Imelda asked, somehow folding her arms even tighter.

Hector snapped his boney finger with a click, his face brightening. “That does give me an idea though.” He paused, looking at Imelda as a sheepish grin slid onto his face. “I, uh, Imelda, do you happen to remember the time I got us into that Mexico City fiesta for our second anniversary?”

Imelda’s face was stoney for a moment, but then something far back in her memory seemed to click into place and her eyes got very wide. For some reason Tio Oscar and Felipe suddenly looked very uncomfortable too.

“No.” Imelda said sternly, “You are not pulling that again, we are both far too old for that kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing?” Miguel asked.

Hector’s grin only got wider as the trolley shuddered to a halt at their stop.

***

“Imelda, please,” Tio Oscar whispered desperately, “we’re not sixteen anymore.”

“Don’t make us do this.” Tio Felipe finished.

The Riveras were all crowded into a back alley behind the Spectacular arena. Just around the corner from them was their target, a lone security guard standing watch at a back entrance.  

Imelda pressed her boney palms to her eye sockets, either trying to ward off a migraine or simply doing anything to avoid seeing Hector beside her.

“Stop being cowards.” Hector whispered back in a mischievous falsetto, snapping open a fan in front of his face and hitching his orange purse higher onto his boney shoulder.

“Just hurry and do it before my good sense comes back to me.” Imelda hissed, still not looking at her estranged husband, who in Miguel’s opinion was rocking a strapless dress and high-heels uncomfortably well.

Ceci had never pulled up her fire escape, making a quick raid of the rehearsal hall’s costume department an easy one. Miguel could tell Hector’s excitement was building, but he couldn’t forget that Hector had collapsed again just minutes ago in wave of shimmering gold sparks. Not the mention that Miguel had glimpsed his own collarbone becoming visible when they’d passed a mirror in the dressing rooms.

They were running out of time and they all knew it.

“But-” Oscar started.

“Now!” Imelda snapped, jolting Hector and the twins into action.

Hector patted his long haired wig into place a final time and strode out into the open, hips swaying confidently as he sauntered into full view of the security guard. One of the twins whimpered, but another glare from Imelda sent them both scampering after Hector.

“What are you doing! Let go of me!” Hector cried in his falsetto, struggling dramatically as Felipe half-heartedly grabbed the strap of his purse.

Oscar looked back at Imelda for a moment and then grabbed the bag as well, escalating the tug of war into something that looked halfway real.

“Hey! What’s going on here?” Came the security guard's voice.

The twins looked up as they finally pried the purse from Hector and then took off down the street.

“My bag!” Hector howled, falling to the pavement with such despair that for a moment Miguel was afraid he’d been struck by the second death. But no, in a moment the security guard was at Hector’s side, looking panicked.

“Are you alright Señorita?” The guard asked uncertainty as Hector continued to sob hysterically.

“My-my-bag! It has my only photo of my son in it!” Hector cried, latching onto the guard's leg in mock-grief, “It’s all I have, please! You have to get it back for me! ”

Miguel look up at Mama Imelda beside him, who was now watching with a kind of fascinated horror.

“I, uh, of course Señorita.” The guard said, awkwardly trying to shake Hector off his leg. “I’ll get it for you, just, let me go por favor.”

“Bless you!” Hector cried, still holding onto the poor man’s leg, “A thousand blessing on you Señor, for helping a poor woman in need!”

By the time the guard successfully detached himself he looked only too happy for any excuse to get away. They all watched as he took off in the direction the twins had gone, just as Oscar and Felipe crept back to their hidden group from behind, having circled the block in the time it took for the guard to escape Hector’s clutches.

“One doorway to Frida Kahlo,” Hector said in his normal voice, picking himself up and cheerfully brushing dirt off his hem, “as ordered, courtesy of the Hector drama institute.”

Miguel couldn’t hold it any longer and burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, leaning against the brick wall beside him, then collapsing into giggles. Hector walked over, one hand on his cocked pelvis as he looked down at Miguel with mock-feminine seriousness.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing at little boy,” Hector said in falsetto, grinning as he offered Miguel a hand, “purse-snatching is a serious crime.”  

“You were amazing!” Miguel cried, taking Hector’s hand with his now equally bony one and letting himself be pulled to his feet.

“You were ridiculous.” Mamá Imelda said, but Miguel was pretty sure her expression was the same as his Abuelita’s was when she was trying very hard to be cross at something she’d rather laugh at.

“We’d better hurry.” Hector said, swapping his wig for his real hair and goatee, stepping out of his high heels and shrugging off the dress to reveal his tattered trousers underneath. He accepted his mess of a purple jacket from Tia Victoria and pulled it on. “We’ve still got to find Frida and I don’t know when the guard will be coming back.”

Miguel gasped as Hector groaned and doubled over, a flutter of shimmering gold running through his bones. Miguel and Imelda both jumped to catch him as he nearly fell, steadying him until the pain passed.

“We need to keep moving if we’re going to get your picture in time.” Imelda said, looking self-conscious as she let go of Hector the moment he could stand on his own again. “You two ridiculous performers lead the way.”

“Thank you.” Hector said to Imelda, looking like he wanted to add something else, but instead he braced himself on Miguel’s shoulder as he turned to lead the way to the now unguarded doorway.

Miguel bit his lip, wishing he knew what to say, but for now all he could do was try to make sure Hector wasn’t forgotten before he could maybe work things out with Mamá Imelda.

“Come on Papá Hector,” Miguel said, supporting him as they walked, “let’s go get that photo.”

It may have been Miguel’s imagination, but it felt like Hector stood a little taller at the sound of being called “Papá.”

-----------

I have waaaay too much fun with these if you can’t already tell x)

And hey, if you want more about Ceci you can check out my current fic “Cecilia de Verde” here, a Coco “no-murder AU” love story that I’m currently writing. :)

You can also read my more serious/thriller Ernesto revenge fic “For Whom the Bell Tolls.”

If you like what I do you can also buy me a coffee to help me justify my constant writing time vs. homework struggle. x)

- Wit 

#wit writes #pixar coco #sunrise spectacular #coco #fanart #imelda #hector #miguel rivera #oscar and felipe #fanfic #one shot #request #drag