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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

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part 10 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

pairing: Francisco (Frankie, Catfish) Morales x reader

wordcount: 3k

warnings: so so soo much fluff. clouds and clouds worth. kissing, implications of sex (blink and you’ll miss it)

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier Baseball AU! Trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball.

In this chapter, you and Frankie finish the season and the summer, and know it’s only the beginning.

notes: thank you all so much for supporting this little story of mine! I genuinely am blown away by how kind everyone has been! originally I planned on this series just being a couple of one-shots set in the same universe, but it got away form me, and I can’t believe so many of you came along for the ride. some of those stories will come in time, but thank you thank you thank you to everyone who stuck around this long! all the love for all of you!

It was a beautiful day for a baseball game.

The sun was shining and for once your bones weren’t shaking with the rumble of the stadium as people stomped and cheered. In fact, the majority of the noise was from Frankie’s momma as she chattered across your lap to your grandfather. The two of them were discussing gardening and how well season was played, how proud they were, the best of friends. It was peaceful, almost, and most of the flashing lights and roaring crowds were away – it was the final game, a charity fundraiser, all fun.

You could see your catcher as he turned, looking at your section like he couldn’t help but search for you, and you smiled, heart as full and as warm as the sun on your shoulders. His curls were sticking out from under his helmet haphazardly, the pads on his shoulders and thighs making him even more solid, and it was a sight that you’d never get tired of. Combined with the smells of warm pastries, jalapeños and melted cheese, contentment settled into your soul like a hand in a glove, a perfect fit.

It was the of the ninth and they were playing well, encouraged by the cause and playing for the love of of the game instead of a paycheck. Behind you, you heard someone mention just how well Frankie had batted this season, and you brushed pan dulce sugar from your lap.

The players had told you last week after all the big games were done why Santi had offered to pay for you and James to fly to see their final games. At the time, it had baffled you how intensely they insisted, how eagerly the pushed it, and how your boyfriend had looked equal parts embarrassed and hopeful, but eventually you agreed, assuming you could get the time off from work. When the secret came out you laughed, shaking your head and rolling your eyes.

They had exchanged smiles and shrugged and shared knowing glances as they let you explain away what they knew was true. You were their luck.

The thought was long gone from your mind now though, as Ben was doing weird poses on the field, and you heard chuckles ripple through the crowds. Fans of him and the team alike were endlessly charmed, and you knew you’d catch comments about it for months to come. His brother was just standing, and still you heard dreamy sighs of Will’s name, and made a mental note to tease him after the game about his “blonde halo”. Whatever that meant.

Santi threw a perfect curveball, and when it landed firmly in Frankie’s glove, you heard a girl swoon, “That’s my man!” and the laughter of her friends, as they called her “Mrs. Morales”.

“No!” his momma was glaring over her shoulder tugging on your elbow, as if physically fighting them was a viable option. You tugged back, making soothing noises as she protested, “Mi frijol.” The sweet lady muttered something else and before your heart could latch on to what you could’ve sworn was something about the future and tu marido you moved on.

“I know, I know,” you were saying, when James leaned over, glint in his sweet, aging eyes.

“She’s right, honey,” he said, only encouraging his friend, and you grinned.

“He’s my boy,” she said again with an air of finality, “and yours."

Looking at your grandfather sheepishly, you pointed at your shirt and shrugged as he said, “Right again.”

You were wearing his backup Jersey.

Cheesy as it was, it felt good to have the little claim of his over your skin, and while it wasn’t obvious to everyone, you wore it with pride. Comments from his fans slid off it like raindrops on a tin roof, and while you apricated her inclusion, you didn’t need it to know he was yours, as you were his.

Jimbo leaned towards the woman at your side and whispered conspiratorially in her ear, and she settled, and you left it, enjoying their friendship. The day was too lovely for anything else, anyway.

Catch, catch, walk, look for his girlfriend, sit, swing, hit, run, walk, sit. Repeat.

Nothing so eventful happened the last few minutes of the game, and as the Will went out for his final bat, you felt a surprising wave of bittersweet nostalgia for all that had passed since the opening game, cold as an evening breeze.

Then the ball cracked against the bat, and the sound snapped you back, and you felt a fire under your breastbone, reminding you the best was yet to come.

Frankie’s mom finished her final cheers enthusiastically, all annoyance long gone, and she pulled you into a hug.

“Nieta is calling. Hug Francisco for me, hija, and I’ll see you tomorrow?” You nodded, squeezing her back almost as hard. You and Frankie were using his first real day off to babysit and get some quality time, and both of you were well aware this was hardly goodbye. You gave a gentler hug to your grandfather, who was going with her, whispering “Bye Jimbo,” as you kissed his cheek. He had conspired to let you stay out for the evening, and while you’d miss driving him home, you were grateful for the opportunity.

Seeing them safely as far as you could, your feet danced with excitement. Like it had been more than handful of times, they knew the path to the locker rooms, carrying you so light you were almost floating. When you slid into the waiting room, Frankie was already clean and looking for you anxiously. Maybe you should’ve given him a little wave from across the room, but you could do better.

You ducked away from his line of sight, and snuck around behind him before say, “hey, batter, batter.” He whipped around and before you could even register the grin on his face, he was pulling you against his chest.

“Hey yourself,” he said, and the two of you got one sweet, slightly needy kiss before you heard good-natured groans.

“It’s been like month,” Santi said, ruffling your hair as you stepped back, “Aren’t you guys done flirting?” You stuck your tongue out at him, wondering if you were fast enough to flick him in the forehead.

“Don’t bother,” Will said, his tone resigned but playful as he hugged you too. “Be happy he got her to stick around.” You pulled a face, and Benny laughed. They all knew by now that it was more than a summer fling, even Tom, who you realized hadn’t come out yet.

When you asked, they winced, and you dropped the topic, knowing they would tell you in their own time. Frankie pulled you back to him, his warm fingers lacing with yours as you herded them towards the door.

They were still working on things, still trying to figure out what their next steps looked like.

For now, you owed your baseball boys a dinner.

It had taken you a couple of times cooking for them to get the portions right. The Miller boys ate like they were hollow, and after a game was a testament to that.

Thankfully, you had more than enough this time, having been preparing their favorites for days with the enthusiastic help from Frankie’s mom, and begrudging help from his sister as a thank you to her hermano. The piled into your little space and ate gratefully, telling you about the game like you knew what they were talking about.

“Benny, why were you –” his deep laughter cut you off, and your hand shot out to grab Will’s wrist mid-throw. You had a rule against projectile food to keep them from squabbling like children at your makeshift dinner table. The dinner roll fell to his plate as Benny tried to explain, and Santi deadpanned.

“I was stretching, and I got distracted –”

“You were flirting with the entire stadium, Ben.”

“No! Well –”

It was warm and bright, eating dinner with them like a family, teasing and laughter filling the space like clear broth in the cool of night.

Frankie’s hand found your knee under the table.

The best part about these replacement-parties was watching them all try to help clean up. You were lucky professional athletes had fast reflexes, or you would’ve lost more than a few dishes to their shenanigans. They insisted, wouldn’t let you help, and things probably would’ve been put back correctly if you had, but it was great, letting things play out however they may. Maybe years and years down the road, you would tell a younger generation that you had some of the world’s most desirable athletes fighting in your kitchen over where you kept your dish soap refills.

And after, they would collapse in your living room, unearthing all the games from your shelves. One of your favorite moments from the summer was coming through thrift stores for games, ignoring the stare of jealousy and making ridiculous bets.

All the while, Frankie kept as close to you as he could, too busy watching you with wrinkles in the corners of his eyes to be embarrassed of his rambunctious friends.

When you and Will won the first game of the evening, he accidentally hit you in the face with the back of his hand as he flung his arms open in triumph.

It hadn’t hurt as badly as it would’ve if his brother had been the one talking with his hands, but Frankie had still thumped him in the back of the head before he followed you to the kitchen.

“Baby, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Frankie,” you laughed, but he was already taking the pack of frozen peas from your hand to press it against the lump forming on your temple. He was gentle, and the air shifted, like there was more on his mind than your minor injury. Brown eyes searching yours, you wished you knew what he was thinking.

“Francisco?” Your hands had settled on his chest but the moved around his neck when he moved the ice to ghost his lips over the spot. He didn’t answer for a moment, just setting the peas aside, and carefully trapping you against the counter.

There were noises of good-natured arguing coming from the living room, and you knew he was taking advantage of their distraction, carving a little pocket for the two of you in time.

“Te adoro,” his lips were almost hot as they pressed into yours. “I love you,” he said, so close you could feel the hairs on his upper lip still.

For the past month, your relationship had been fast, jumpstarting to serious and staying that was, but this was new. It was one thing, for him to tell you he wanted something real with you, wanted you to be a part of his life, and another to hear him say he loved you simply, without abandon. Still, you didn’t hesitate.

“I love you too.”

He kissed you again, unhurried, and you almost couldn’t return it, you were smiling so widely. Your bump was long forgotten.

When the two of you came out the kitchen, the others had barely noticed you were gone and Ben immediately was accusing you of cheating, but Santi shot you a knowing smile.

There was a gap of time when a season ended, when Molly’s inbox was mercifully void of emails. It was a time when the chaos of her job slowed, for a bit before she began her work for the off-season, and she relished it with every fiber of her being.

This particular gap began wrapped up in sheets with Tom, her Tom, kissing and wishing the world outside was a simple as this, in the little bubble of her room.

She could always tell though, when his mind was no longer filled with her, and the other sides of him began to leak through the cracks. His eyes moved with urgency instead of appreciation his hands moved a little slower and then in sudden jerks, and when he trailed off mid-sentence, she sighed.

“You told them, didn’t you?”

He rolled onto his back; his gaze pointed towards the ceiling.

“Right after the game,” he confessed, and she sighed again, sitting up. If nothing else, for him, she had endless patience.

“How’d that go?”

Her love was silent, thinking only of the embarrassment and defensiveness that had reared in his chest. The tilt of Santi’s head, Frankie’s slow nod. He wished Benny had been disappointed, wished Will had thought it was a joke.

“They understood,” Tom didn’t add that he hoped with all his considerable might that they had reacted stronger, hoped they had told him not to, said they needed him to stay, but they hadn’t. It wouldn’t have been true, anyway. They were growing, going somewhere he couldn’t follow.

Her hand ran over his chest as it filled with air, stilling over his heart.

“It’s time,” one of them said, and the other nodded.

Counseling. Rehab. Retirement.

Slowing down to coach at a local college.

He clenched his hand into a fist, and then relaxed, palm falling open, upwards.

The love of his life kissed his forehead.

It was time.

The first stop of the day was with James, spending the morning helping him around the house. Before this summer, you had thought you were his favorite grandchild, but he had essentially adopted Frankie months ago, and already liked him more than you.

The little old man talked excitedly about baseball and lectured your love on enjoying his off-season. He dragged him into the yard, talking his ear off about the benefits of different teas and the importance of volunteering with youth programs, and you settled inside, throwing away expired things from his fridge. Their absence was your only opportunity for the chore.

Honestly, the two of you needed to leave sooner than later and you weren’t sure how much time you had.

“Honey?” You dropped a can of whipped cream from a month ago guiltily.

“Yeah, Jimbo?”

He eyed you suspiciously but seemed too excited to be deterred by you.

“I put this together for you!” He said proudly, and you noticed a flash of the same mischief from yesterday in his eyes. Your grandfather handed you a box, and made you promise not to open in until you left. You hugged the sweet man, and smiled when Frankie did, too, before saying your goodbyes, thankful beyond words for him.

If it weren’t for him, you were sure you wouldn’t be climbing into the truck of your boyfriend, and certainly not having the catcher’s hand slide into yours. When you opened the box, the gratitude didn’t shrink, but your embarrassment rose.

Frankie laughed so hard you thought he was going to have to pull over.

It was full of Francisco Morales merchandise, signatures and memorabilia ranging from his very first baseball card to his most recent bobble head.

Frankie kissed your knuckles for the second time since you climbed into his truck, which was silly since it had only been three minutes since you left his mother’s house.

He could feel your look, answering before you even asked.

“I’m good, just… I love you,” he said, unable to keep his eyes on the road when he said it.

“I love you too, Frankie,” you said, wondering what prompted him.

“Could we… would you want to get dinner?” He looked thoughtful and you laughed.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

Your hand was lifted to his lips again, sending electricity up your spine as he confirmed.

The two of you had a bag full of Anita’s best by the time you entered his home, and he still hadn’t told you what was on his mind. The two of you ate, sharing stories about the day’s adventures, helping his mother around the house and watching, Bianca, his sweet, tiny new niece. You had a great conversation with his mother, and despite her excitable nature, she surprised you by asking you about your boundaries and promising not to overstep.

Frankie told you about his hermana, and her slowly opening up to the idea of letting him help her out, not as charity but family, and letting him shoulder some of the responsibilities. You watched the warmth in his eyes as he talked and wondered how it was possible for a single person to feel so safe.

Eventually the talking slowed, and you found yourself half falling asleep against the stretch of his chest, is hands slowing their wandering paths.

“Love?” he murmured into your hair. You hummed in response.

When he didn’t say anything, your mind woke, and you pulled yourself up, and into his lap, straddling him.

He looked up at you for a moment before you felt him sigh against you.

“I have this baby,” he said, and you couldn’t help but smile at his phrasing. Santi always said it was melodramatic. “Do you… is this all too much?”

His expression mirrored that of your first date, and you told him the same thing as you had then.

That you would stay, as long as he would have you. That you would navigate alongside him, that you were happy to. This time, you added that you loved him, and you felt him shift under you, anxiety leaking out of him, allowing solid adoration to replace it.

Frankie said, “Thank you,” against your mouth, and like a prayer. In the dim evening light, you kissed him, and as his hands slipped under your shirt to hold your sides, he held you for the first time like you were real.

And you were, this was something that wasn’t going away.

For the first time in a long time, it was a perfect day for something new, and his heart was here, beating under his hands.

translations:

pan dulce: pastries

mi frijol: my bean

tu marido: your husband

nieta: granddaughter

hija: daughter

hermano/a: brother, sister

te adoro: I adore you

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @pbeatriz

hey batter batter taglist:

@icanbeyourjedi @studyofawearymind @hnt-escape @athalien @the-witty-pen-name @daffodin @sarahjkl82-blog @pintsizemama @anaaaispunk @pjkimrn @dobbyjen @stuckontheceiling

#francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie x you #frankie x reader #triple frontier baseball au #hey batter batter #maybe i don't know people

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thesweetestkimberry · 3 years

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feliz navidad !

parings: hanta sero x latina!reader

summary: it’s christmas eve! and you and sero want to celebrate the holiday in a familiar way.

warnings: latin reader and latin sero hc, mexican food, a bit of spanish, a few curses on my part, ooc,

notes: MORE NOTES AT THE END OF THE WORK- happy holidays everyone! here’s a little something to keep my fellow, midnight present openers, company!

『° 。✰˚⋆☾⋆。✰°』

“sero stop eating the filling!” you scold, shaking his head with the handle of the spoon you were holding, turning it back around to continue spreading the masa on the corn husk.

he winced at the pain and rubbed his head, the bits of the filling de puerco around his mouth.

“sorry babe! i cant help it though, it’s really good.” he says eying you as you wipe the food off his mouth with a napkin. he hummed at the attention and placed his hands on your hips,

“you look beautiful, you know?” he says, making you blush, looking down at your food stained apron and christmas outfit. “i don’t think it’s all that.” you mumble, going back to preparing the tamales, adding the filling and rolling it up.

sero suddenly connected to the speaker the two of you had brought, the loud music scaring the shit out of you.

“turn that down! it’s late!” you scold, watching him stumble to lower the volume, “sorry, but it’s too quiet.” he says almost unapologetically. you flicked your santa hat back into its proper spot and continued working.

both of you were kinda right, it was a bit late, about 10 o’clock, and due to the two of you being the only ones up in the dorm’s kitchen, it was pretty quiet.

but why were the two of you up so late? well, it was christmas eve! that usually wouldn’t warrant the actions, but you and sero grew up with the tradition of waiting till midnight to open gifts.

also the two of you had missed home and the cultures, so you thought, why not bring home here?

so it was just the two of you, making tamales in the dimly lit kitchen. he handed the ready ones to you while you placed them into the large pot you were going to cook them in.

“don’t burn yourself.” sero teases, noticing how you need to stick your arm in to place them. nudging him with your foot, you both laughed and carried on.

not long after, the champurrado was ready. searching some for sero and yourself, you two sat on the couch. staring at the brightly lit christmas tree, a fuzzy blanket over your laps, and a warm drink in your hands really set the mood.

without a word, sero turned to look at you, smiling and lowering his head to kiss the tip of your nose, making you giggle and rub your nose against his.

after about a half hour, the two of you lightly jumped in surprise when you heard the elevator doors open, turning to see who walked out, you both laughed.

“what’s so funny?” a sleepy kaminari asked, rubbing his tired eyes and squinting at the two of you.

“nothing.” was all you two could respond before he bound over to the two of you, holding over the back of the couch and sitting in between you.

“whatchu guys doin 'up?” he piped up, snatching the drink out of your hands and taking a few questioning sips. “this is pretty good!” he exclaims.

“you want some?” sero asks, laughing at his friend who nodded excitedly and made himself comfortable under the blanket and against your side.

kaminari had whipped out his phone quietly, your peripherals picking up him typing a few words before shoving it back in his sweatpants pocket.

he only smiled at you with faux innocence when you glanced down questioningly at him.

right as sero came back with another mug, the elevator doors opened up again, this time revealing kirishima and bakugou. kiri looked way happier than bakugou did, he looked like he was ready to bow up all of you.

“what are you two doing up?” you ask him, laughing knowingly when kirishima holds up his phone, revealing a message from kaminari.

“now, we could ask you two the same question.” kirishima asks, throwing bakugou onto the other couch. you heard a quiet, “i’ll get more drinks” from behind you, making you laugh.

“well, it’s christmas eve, and sero and i are used to waiting up till midnight to open gifts.” you explain, watching kirishima and kaminari’s eyes light up.

“woah! you mean you don’t wait till the morning?” the blonde asks, bouncing in his seat, however careful as to not spill the hot drink.

“pretty much, we also made some food.” sero says, this time bakugou perking up, “what kind of food?” he asks gruffly.

as you went to go check on the tamales, the elevator doors opened up again, this time revealing the entire deku squad.

yes, even iida.

“what?..” you trailed off, “kiri.” they all said holding up their phones. you giggled, “you want some?” you ask them as they run over to see what you were serving for drinks.

“oo that smells good!” midoriya, uraraka and asui all exclaimed, todoroki and iida curiously looking into the pot of tamales.

“what are these?” shoto asks, “they’re called tamales. they’re corn dough and filled with corn and beef.” you explain in a simple way.

not even 5 minutes later, the whole common room was full of your classmates, all dressed in their pj’s and their custom christmas hats. everyone was either sitting on the couches, on the floor around the three with a christmas movie playing, or helping you in the kitchen.

once sato arrived with his baking stuff, you got to work on making various pan dulces to go along with the hot chocolate and champurrado.

everyone was chatting and even singing a few different versions of christmas songs that made you all laugh. at about 11:40 a voice rang out that made you all freeze.

“what are you all doing at this hour?” aizawa’s voice boomed, effectively scaring all of you. before you could stand up to take the blame, sero placed a hand on your shoulder and stood.

“uh, mr. aizawa, this was all me, i got homesick and, sir it’s christmas eve,” he says, getting nervous under his teacher’s glare, “i’m aware.” aizawa cut him off, making him stutter.

you looked up at him reassuringly and took his hand, “and for us it’s traditionally celebrated on christmas eve, and the opening presents starts at midnight.” sero finished explaining, his charming grin slightly wobbling.

the tired man groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. with a defeated sigh, he waved his hand and looked up at all of your waiting faces, “fine, continue. but you all are cleaning up.” he says as you all cheer, that’s when he smells the food in the kitchen.

you smile at him as you approach, offering him his awaiting cat mug and a pan dulce, “merry christmas mr. aizawa!” you say cheerfully, smiling even wider when he takes the offerings.

all might also burst in at some point, the two teachers now with their own santa hats and christmas snacks.

you and sero were so preoccupied with one another that you didn’t notice uraraka floating above the two of you, her giggles and the whispers in the room alerting you.

looking, you and sero saw she was holding a bundle of mistletoe above the two of you.

“feliz navidad, hanta.” you say lovingly, sighing in content when sero’s hands come to cup your cheeks.

“feliz navidad, mi amor.” sero says with equal amounts of love as he leans down to press a kiss on your lips, both of you smiling when you hear the cheers and whistles of your classmates.

“hey, it’s midnight!” a voice says, the two of you pulling apart and staring at one another while the sounds of joyful voices, wrapping paper tearing and laughter.

“happy holidays everyone!!”

『° 。✰˚⋆☾⋆。✰°』

hello again! thank you all for reading and sticking with me up to now, if you’re new here, hello!! requests are open and comments are always appreciated!! don't be afraid to say Hi either! or ask some questions if you want,, happy holidays everyone!

#latin sero #mha hanta sero #sero hanta x reader #bnha x reader #hanta sero x reader #mha x reader #seroxreader #hanta sero imagine #bnha

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lovebishoplosamiguelgalindos · 3 years

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lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo

Hank “ Tranq” Losa and his wife Alicia . 18+ smut , exhaustion , minor illness , things married people do cuddling, caretaking, sleep. 714 words

“ Baby when was the last time you got any solid sleep?” You said as you gently rubbed his back while the two of you were sprawled on the couch together.

“ I don’t know.” He replied.

“ This can’t be good for you physically or mentally Hank. You can’t give the club what it needs if you drop over from exhaustion .”

He yawned for a moment. “ I guess I could maybe take a nap here with you. It’s cold out and also my day off today anyway.”

You smiled and tucked the black fleece blanket with gray stripes around him more . “ There you go a nap will be good for you.” You felt his hands hold you around the hips . He liked you close when he was stressed. You ran your fingers gently over his jawline and watched his eyes close . “ Sleep mi rey.” You just held him in your arms while your legs were entwined together . Then you heard your phone chirp from the corner table and you carefully picked it up with one hand and managed to check the text message .

📱 From : Lady Presidente. “ Hey Alicia just checking in. Heard Hank didn’t look so good coming back from the run , text me if you need anything girl.”

📱 From : Tranq’s Wife : “ He’s exhausted mostly , sleeping right now. I slipped him some sleepytime bear tea when he got in a few hours ago. I’m staying close but if I need anything I will do that .”

📱 From : Lady Presidente “ All right sounds good, I’m making a double batch of lasagna right now so I’ll bring a pan over, I know Hank has a soft spot for it.”

📱 From : Tranq’s Wife. : “ That would be amazing, he needs some comfort food , he’s down some weight from all this club shit.”

You finished the text conversation and then went back to holding your husband.

You looked at the simple silver band on your wedding ring finger with the garnet in the middle. You loved it because Hank had picked it out when he had asked you to marry him. Sometimes he asked if you wanted an actual engagement ring to go with it and you loved this just as it is. You had his initial tattooed on the base of your left wrist on an infinity symbol with the date you had grown married in Arizona at his cousins place.

You had a big reception at the club when you both got back to town and the guys had fixed up this house for you to have a family in. Right now that meant your older German Shepherd Paco but you hadn’t ruled out human babies.

Hank was a teddy bear underneath the kutte denim and tattoos. His bad ass reputation was just for the street and was left at the door when he got home.

You felt Hank stir a little while later and then heard a cough . He cleared his throat and said “ Thought you were asleep querida.”

“ I was for a little while listening to your heartbeat . I think it’s a good thing that I got extra cold things the last time I made a pharmacy run. Something tells me you’re going to need them husband .”

“ One cough and you go all mother hen on me dulce.”

“ I married your ass and with that comes be being able to worry when and if I want to anytime Hank Carlos Loza. Alicia is bringing over a pan of lasagna later for you and then after you eat your ass is going to bed with NyQuil.”

“ That shit knocks me out .” His arms folded on his chest.

“ You need it my love , don’t argue or I will tell Bishop your ass is staying at home for a week from the scrap yard.”

“ Fine.”

You knew he wasn’t happy but he needed to rest. When you married or loved one Mayan god help you sometimes it included the whole damn club. And the, men were still babies when they were stressed or sick. You might need to have the girls save you with some wine because this was not going to be a fun few days.

#hank tranq loza #mayans mc

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ducksisthebest · 3 years

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2021 EoA Discord Ship Appreciation Week Day 1

Notes: 2021 EoA ship appreciation week from the EoA discord server. The topic for today: Cuddling. So, let's do this! :3

In the warm, sunny morning was Elena, sitting all alone in the Grand Council room doing more agreements and paperwork that were just begging her to sign them. Elena sighed in defeat as she got up and walked to her best friend's room who also happens to be the royal wizard of Avalor. Her heart skipped a beat as she thought about her closest friend -- Mateo was always been by her side like he promised in Vallestrella. Trust Mateo when you need him by your side because he always keeps his word like a -- close -- best friend would, as Elena kept thinking about Mateo. Her feet brought her to the royal wizard's quarters in the matter of minutes, Elena didn't want to bother Mateo but she felt the need to talk with someone grow larger. Her family were all busy and her other friends -- not including Mateo -- were busy with their jobs as a Grand Council member and Captain of the Guard. Elena slowly opened the door to reveal- an empty room?

"Mateo? Are you in here?" Elena asked quietly as she looked around his neat and organized room.

"Yes Elena? Do you need something?" A voice from behind her suddenly said as Elena could recognize that voice anywhere -- it was her Mateo- wait, not her Mateo!? It was just Mateo, the person she was looking forward to speak with.

"Oh, sorry for intruding your room Mateo, I was looking for you." She replied with a sheepish smile as she banished her thoughts about 'her' Mateo and focused on the task at hand.

"Mhmm." Mateo hummed in amusement before reaching out to lay a hand on Elena's shoulders. "So, aren't you going to tell me why you were looking for me?" He gently asked while squeezing her shoulder in a comforting way.

Elena replied with her normal tone, "I was looking for you so we could talk since it's been a while and I haven't checked in with you because of all the paper works."

Mateo looked at Elena carefully before replying back. "Ahh, the towers of paper work have got you this time huh? And sure, I don't really have a busy schedule, just need to visit a place to get some stuff."

"Oooh, where are you going? And what stuff?" Elena asked, curious at this 'place' Mateo was going to and what he was getting.

"Oh um, I'm just going somewhere and getting somethings?" He raised his hand and placed it behind his neck like he always does when he feels nervous.

Elena raised a brow before shrugging. "Okay, I'll be off then." She said walking away casually as if nothing happened.

"Um, didn't you want to discuss something with me Elena?" Mateo asked but Elena just waved her hand at him before walking back into the Grand Council room.

"Hmm, seems like she's hiding something from you Mateo."

Mateo jumped at the voice and looked down to see Skylar who no doubt, came in just recently. "Oh, it's just you Skylar. And what do you mean by she's hiding something and what are you doing here?"

Skylar looked at him with a tilt of his head before shrugging and answering his questions. "First, princesa wanted to talk with you and then just left as of nothing happened. Second, I'm here to take you to Quita Moz, he called me to get you."

"Quita Moz? Why?"

"I don't know? Do you expect me to know everything Mateo?"

"No, it's just. He doesn't summon me often, only for Elena's tamborita magic lessons or more about the big test Elena had to face."

"Oh well, so I can drop you off there right now and go back to sun-bathing?"

Mateo chuckled before doing as commanded.

"So, did you do something bad mi amigo?"

Mateo stared back at Skylar. "And what do you mean by that?"

Skylar flew to the portal leading to Vallestrella and used his paw to open the doors. "Well, since Quita Moz decided to summon you randomly. I just thought he saw you do something wrong and is gonna teach you the right way."

"You know I'm too innocent to do anything like that and Quita Moz is our friend." Mateo replied before looking ahead for Quita Moz's rock hideout.

"Ok then mi amigo!" Skylar replied as he flew past the rock illusion and into Quita Moz's nest. "We're here Quita Moz!" Skylar called out. After a few a seconds, Quita Moz rises on cue from the magic fire and turns to Mateo and Skylar.

"Ahh, yes. Mateo, just who I was looking for."

"Hi Quita Moz, so what you need me for?" Mateo replied with curiosity as Skylar sat patiently.

"I- I mean we need to discuss about the perfect gift you're going to give to Elena", Quita Moz began.

"Wait what? Really? You just summon me to talk about the gift I'm gonna give to Elena?" Mateo was confused at Quita Moz's task for him.

"What do you mean exactly Quita Moz?" The royal wizard questioned.

"You know, it doesn't take a wise sunbird oracle to know that you have something for our princess and soon-to-be queen of Avalor." Quita Moz grinned Skylar laughed inwardly.

Mateo blushed at the implication the wise oracle was implementing.

"You- wha- me!? And- and- Elena!?" Mateo stuttered.

'You really are an oblivious wizard.' Skylar thought as Naomi said it a few times.

Quita Moz sighed before gliding his way down to where Mateo was standing. "What I'm saying is that you have a 'like, like' situation with Princess Elena and you need to come up with a special gift to give her on Valentine's Day. Plus I already know you're gonna give her a gift without me telling you to."

"You're serious?" Mateo asked while brainstorming gifts that were amazing and meaningful for Elena.

"Mateo, Valentine's Day is tomorrow and if you don't give her a special gift, what kind of friend would you be to not give her a very special gift after all she's done for you and Avalor? I see that Naomi and Gabe are making rather special gifts for our princess later on that means a lot to her, so what about you?"

"I mean, you're right but shouldn't you be summoning me for bigger problems? And, I was planning to give her a rather special gift anyways." Mateo shrugged it off before waving to the sunbird and taking off on Skylar.

"Soo, what do you have in mind Mateo?" Skylar asked the wizard who was deep in thought. "Mi amigo? Mateo!?" Skylar called out, snapped him out of his musings.

"Huh? What?" Mateo who clearly wasn't listening to what the jaquin asked him. "Sorry, I was thinking about what special gift to give Elena."

"So what have you thought of?"

Mateo furrowed his brows in a attempt to remember all his gift ideas for Elena. "I thought of giving her, her favorite flowers, magic spells that I learned or could learn, beautiful jewelry, cute stuff animals, and a few other things." Mateo then listed off each one of his ideas as they flew their way to the palace.

"I think you should put all those ideas into one and get Elena to each of them, like a- a scavenger hunt!" Skylar happily suggested before dropping off Mateo on Elena's balcony.

"That's a- a really great idea! Thanks Skylar!" Mateo ran to his not-so-secret workshop to set the big idea into action.

"Your welcome amigo!" Skylar replied and got right back into sun-bathing with Migs and Luna.

-------

Meanwhile, with Elena in the Grand Council room with towers of paper work.

'Ugh, what was I thinking!? I needed to talk and check in with Mateo but instead I just casually walked back here with these paper works!' Elena chided herself silently and rested her head on her arms on the semi-circle table with an exhausted sigh.

"Uh, Elena? Are you alright?" A child-like voice came from Elena's side causing Elena to flinch a little.

"Oh, its just you Isa and yes. I'm fine. Just tired." Elena replied and laid her head back down on her arms.

"So? Tomorrow is Valentine's Day and you just have to take a break then." Isabel reassured before giving Elena a pan dulce.

Elena looked in Isa's warm, light brown eyes before taking the sweet bread and pulled her little sister in a hug. "Thank you Isa, you always know how to make me smile", Elena whispered as she held Isabel in her arms.

"Your welcome Elena." Isabel returned the hug and muttered, "But I'm not the only one who knows." Continuing her topic, "So, speaking of tomorrow.. who do you think is your Valentine is, Elena?"

'Wait, tomorrow is Valentine's Day!?' Elena thought as she turned back to her little sister. "Did you just say tomorrow is Valentine's Day Isa?"

"Um, yes?"

"AH! I forgot to make the Valentine's Day cards!"

"Whoa, calm down. It's alright, I made a lot of Valentine cards that are just waiting for us to decorate and give out. I was coming to you actually to ask you to decorate with me."

"Oh, sure I will! Let me get some snacks and head to your room, go on ahead of me, I'll come real soon."

"Okay Elena!" Isabel said excitedly as she ran to her room to get the art supplies ready.

Elena reached the kitchen and her abuela happened to be there making tamales and pan dulce.

"Oh, hi mija! Would you like some tamales?"

"Yes please abuela, I'm starving." Elena said tiredly as Luisa smiled softly at her granddaughter before giving Elena a plate of tamales and pan dulce, two of the Flores sister's favorites.

"You're lucky you came here early, your abuelo would've finished these in minutes." Luisa chuckled.

"Of course he would. Okay, thank you abuela!" Elena chuckled before leaving the kitchen and into the hallways to Isabel's room.

As Luisa went back to cover the plate of extra tamales but she saw it was gone. "Francisco!"

"Yes mi amor?" Francisco came out with an empty plate but it was obvious that he had eaten all of the tamales in a matter of minutes.

"Ay Francisco." Luisa chuckled to herself.

"Sorry mi amor, you know how I can be with your food around." Francisco laughed before helping his wife make new tamales for dinner.

As Elena walked in the hallways, enjoying the freedom away from the paper work that she had to do. While walking, she heard lots of shuffling and bag noises in Mateo's suite. Her curiosity piqued to what her royal wizard was doing in his room. She knew popping her head into her best friend's business was impolite and not a princess thing to do but her curiosity won tremendously and the next thing Elena knew, she was leaning against Mateo's door trying to listen more carefully but then-

"Elena?" Elena jumped at the voice and instinctively jumped away from Mateo's door and the direction where the voice came from. "I can explain- Isa?" Elena started and relaxed knowing it was just her little sister but it was still embarrassing.

"Um, what were you doing at Mateo's door?" Isabel asked staring from her big sister who had cheeks tinged with red to the royal wizard's room door. "Oooh, I get it." Isabel winked before walking back to her room.

Elena blushed and ran after her little sister to ask, "Exactly what do you mean you 'get it' Isa?"

"I see that your spying on Mateo~"

"Wait, wha-! Don't even go there, no I wasn't spying but I heard some ruffling noises coming from his room and my curiosity just- won me over at that time but I swear I wasn't spying on Mateo." Elena said frantically while wringing her hands at Isabel.

"Uh huh, I'll believe that when you stop visiting Mateo on a daily basis." Isabel sarcastically retorted and laughed before continuing, "Come on Elena, I'm your sister, we don't keep secrets from each other. Right?"

Elena sighed in defeat and nodded in agreement.

"So, what were you doing back there?"

"I'm telling the truth Isa, I heard some ruffling and awfully a lot of noises in Mateo's room so I thought I could try to guess what he was doing in there to be making all those noises."

"Okay, I believe you. Now can we decorate these cards while eating and simply having sister time?" Isabel said excitedly, practically jumping from her seat.

Elena laughed and agreed with Isabel, as both sisters spent their much needed sister time decorating their Valentine cards and chatting about sister things. Mateo worked tirelessly on Elena's Valentine's Day gift that he totally forgot about making the rest of the gifts for his friends and his mother. But he mindlessly admitted that he would have to do them later, the gift for Elena is way more important and must be complete til tomorrow. Although he would work all night to make all the Valentine's Day gifts for his friends and his mom, while Elena and Isa finished their cards and went to dinner as a family. Elena made one of the Valentine cards very special for one very special friend that she had, both Elena and Mateo worked tirelessly to make every gift as perfect as it could be, which applied to Mateo more than Elena in general.

---------

Finally, the special day has arrived to Avalor! It was Valentine's Day and there was something in the air, that something is- 'love'. Mateo worked all night making Valentine gifts for his friends and visiting his mom as a gift to her since he's been so busy at the palace as the royal wizard that he couldn't visit his mother that often anymore, but his mother understood and praised her son for how much he's grown. He took the carriage to the palace, ready to give Elena the best gift he's ever made. But first things first, wardrobe change. Mateo wore a new set of midnight blue wizard robes with gold linings at his neck collar and chest, including a silver satchel for his tamborita to go in. And to top all that with a bright red-maroon sash tied to his waist with part of it hanging from his hip.

'This is gonna be great! I just hope it all goes to plan.' Mateo thought as he walked outside with a very special card hiding behind his back that was going to be delivered to the princess' suite.

"Hey Mateo! What do you have there?"

Mateo jumped at the voice and stared with wide eyes at no other than Naomi Turner herself. "Uh- hi Naomi! What brings you here?"

"I asked first Mateo, what's that in your hands?" Naomi crossed her arms over her chest with narrowing eyes at the item in Mateo's hands.

"I-It's n-nothing really, I'll be going now." Mateo tried to run but Naomi grabbed him by the neck collar and dragged him back. "Please Naomi, it's nothing and you're ruining my new robe", Mateo complained as Naomi dropped her grip on his neck collar.

"Wait, new wizard robes, shining boots, new satchel, combed hair, bright red sash, and a pink card. Are you going to ask 'Elena' to be your Valentine!?" Naomi said with clapping hands.

"Wait, Mateo is going to do what now?", another voice came in and it was no other than Luna.

"Shh guys!" Mateo said covering both of their mouths with his hands.

"Sorry" they apologize in unison as Mateo moved his hands back.

"So are you?" Naomi asked again.

Mateo sheepishly smiled while subconsciously rubbing the back of his neck, "Yea, I was hoping to ask her today after she solves the scavenger hunt."

"Oh my goodness Mateo, I'm so happy for you two! Finally, me and Gabe can settle down our bets on who takes the big step first." Naomi happily said as Luna and Mateo stared at her. "What?"

"When did you and Gabe have a bet about me and Elena getting together?"

"Uh, a few months ago. We watched you and Elena for months and yet, you two are completely oblivious and clueless about it so we decided to bet on who makes the move first and I bet you so yes! Gold coins are gonna be happy in my pocket rather than Gabe's." Naomi patted the pocket to the side of her dress.

Luna patted Mateo on the back and wished him good luck and drag Naomi out to have a conversation about a plan that was about to be set in motion.

Mateo looked at them confusingly before shrugging and slipping the Valentine's Day card under Elena's room door with a bouquet of her favorite flowers at her door. He released the breath he hadn't realized he held and walked to his workshop to get the finishing gift.

"So, you're telling me we should hang mistletoes' above the spot they both are gonna end up at?" Luna nodded and grinned as she brought out a full packed bag of mistletoes'.

"Whoa!? You should've have told me that you had these, I could've used them to get them together before."

"I didn't just find this one hour ago you know. Anyways, I know where they're gonna end up at so let's go there quickly and hope Mateo isn't there first, if he is then we're going with plan B."

"Can we please do plan B? It sounds more funny than just hanging them up." Naomi begged as she got on Luna with the bag full of mistletoes' in her hand."Okay, okay. I was actually planning to do plan B instead of A. Let's get Skylar too!"

"Sure! Now let's get Skylar and move!"

They flew down to Elena's balcony where they woke Skylar and filled him in with about the plan. The three then fly off to their set up spot and was lucky enough to find Mateo not there yet. Naomi climbed onto a tree branch with the bag of mistletoes' while Skylar and Luna perched on top of the tree. As Naomi was getting ready to dump it all on the couple, Luna awaited on the tree top while Skylar flew off to wake up the sleeping princess. Naomi chuckled to herself at how this so called 'prank' would turn out in the end.

Back to Elena... Elena was still fast asleep until she heard scraping at her balcony doors, she got up and saw Skylar scratching the door frame as if she wanted to go in. 'That one's new ' Elena thought as Skylar never scratched her door frame to get in before.

"What are you doing Skylar?" Elena said as she opened the doors and scratched behind Skylar's ear.

Skylar pressed more into Elena's hand and purred before calling out, "Um, look at your door. Bye!" then flew off back to Naomi.

"My door?" Elena repeated as she looked towards the door to find a decorated card on the ground. She walked over to take a closer look and read what it said, 'Good morning my beautiful princess, feeling great? I have something planned for you, just you wait.' Signed by your ~Secret Admirer -- Elena stared at the card for a while trying to process everything, she had a secret admirer!? She knew she was admired by a lot of people in Avalor but a secret admirer on Valentine's Day? She got a tingly feeling inside knowing she had a secret admirer who was going to give her something on Valentine's Day. Elena opened her door to find all her favorite flowers assorted in a beautiful bouquet. She gaped at the bouquet before looking in the hallways for anyone suspicious. She saw another piece of paper in the flowers that read, 'As your friend I may reveal, go to the place where you have your meals.'

'A place where I have my meals? Well it obviously the kitchen', Elena thought as she ran to the kitchen where she found jaquin stuff animals of Skylar, Migs, Luna, her and Mateo as one. She couldn't decide which one to take so she took all of the stuff animal jaquins until Elena looked and saw another piece of paper on jaquin Mateo's head which it read, 'I see you are flying through, now go to a place where roses grew.'

'Abuela's roses grow in the garden', Elena ran straight to the garden roses with her miniature jaquin pals, she later found a silver tiara with red and pink linings and hearts. Elena admired the tiara before putting it on and continuing the scavenger hunt. Next to where the tiara was placed was yet, another piece of paper. 'You are getting close to your surprise, go to your favorite tree where you see the sun rise.'

'My favorite tree is over at the corner in the garden', Elena ran faster to her favorite tree where she saw a picnic blanket and a picnic basket with, plates of pan dulce, Avaloran chocolates, bunuelos, chocolate-dipped strawberries, churros, flan, and two cups of horchata. These were all Elena's favorites, whoever did this knew her very well.

"Why hello there, Elena." An familiar voice from behind Elena suddenly spoke.

Elena jumped back in shock and gaped at one of her best friend's new wardrobe change. Mateo was dressed in a midnight colored robe with gold linings and his tamborita in a silver satchel. Lastly, a bright red-maroon sash tied onto his waist. Mateo raised a brow in amusement.

"Hi Mateo." Elena greeted simply and tried not to over observe his dashing good looks that she never got a close up look at until now.

"Hi Elena, what are you doing out here?"

"Would you believe me if I said it was part of a surprise?"

"Maybe? But depends on what 'surprise' brought you out here."

"I have a secret admirer who led me on this scavenger hunt."

Mateo made a surprised expression and asked incredulously, "Really?"

"Yea, you wouldn't by any chance know who set this up?"

"Yes actually, I know exactly who."

Elena's eyes widened in shock as she stared at Mateo. "You know who set this up?"

"Yes, and I was told to keep it secret so, it's still a mystery for you."

"Please tell me Mateo, my curiosity is killing me. Please, please, please." Elena begged Mateo with clasped hands in front of her.

"Okay, okay! I'll give you a hint but not the answer."

"Anything please."

"Your secret admirer is closer than you think." Mateo grinned as Elena furrowed her brows hard in thought.

Naomi watched from afar and was getting impatient. 'Elena! Are you that oblivious!? He's literally right in front of you!?' Naomi rolled her eyes as she watched the couple.

Elena kept thinking about what Mateo said and still was oblivious to who was her secret admirer. "I still don't get it."

Mateo sighed before revealing another hint. "He's here."

"Wait, my secret admirer is here?"

"Yes, and like my first hint. He's closer than you think."

Elena remembered the first clue that said this secret admirer was her friend. Then it clicked -- Mateo is.. my secret admirer!? He knows me well enough and is considerate enough to do this all for me. Elena stared back at Mateo in revelation and awe.

"Y-you!"

Naomi, Luna, and Skylar cheered inwardly as Elena finally caught on.

"Mhmm" Mateo hummed and nodded in agreement.

"You did this and you said you knew who my secret admirer is because the secret admirer is you!?" Elena said and lightly smacked his shoulders a few times at his attempted hints even though the secret admirer was him after all.

"Okay! Okay! I'm sorry?" Mateo laughed as he tried to dodge her attacks to his shoulders. "Yes, I did do this all for you because you did more for me and everyone in Avalor so I thought you deserved a rather special gift." He gave Elena her now favorite half-crooked grin.

Elena stood there speechless at this selfless gift Mateo had given her, she could feel different emotions -- happy, admired, thankful, amazed, joyful, and maybe love -- she had felt them all because of this wizard in front of her who happens to be her closest best friend. Elena couldn't get a single word out so she went with physical actions. She hugged him tightly around his middle and rested her head on his shoulder in a comforting position. Mateo straightened at the sudden affection but eagerly returned the embrace by wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"Thank you Mateo, this is the best gift I have even gotten so far." Elena whispered and hugged Mateo a little bit tighter.

"Your welcome Elena, now would you like to join me for breakfast?" Mateo pulled away and held an arm for her.

"Gladly", Elena happily replied and took his arm as they walked towards the picnic area.

The three spying amigos were bursting with happiness for the couple and were also about to execute their plan.

"Oh! You look amazing in those new robes by the way."

Naomi muttered quietly right after, "Don't you mean handsome Elena?"

"Thanks! I made them just the way I wanted them to look, it adds to the wizard's mystique you know?"

Elena nodded as she leaned towards Mateo and rested her head on the comfy spot of his shoulder.

Once Elena got comfy next to Mateo's side, he wrapped his free arm around Elena as they continued eating and enjoying their close proximity. Mateo finished his sweet bread and leaned in close to Elena's ear to whisper, "You look beautiful in that tiara you know."

Elena blushed as she buried her face in his robe fleece to hide her heated face before nodding and thanking him. They both finished their breakfast and Mateo quickly placed all the plates back inside the basket as they went back to their intimate sitting positions.

Luna and Skylar both slowly tap Naomi on the shoulder to signal her as Naomi tugged both of their tails in response as she opened the bag and dumped all the mistletoes' on the couple.

Elena and Mateo were soon covered with mistletoes' as they stared shockingly at Naomi, Luna, and Skylar laughing out of control in the tree above them.

"Did you tell them to do this Mateo?" Elena asked, feeling surprised and -- if she was honest with herself, quite pleased -- shocked.

"No! Not at all! They must've followed me here and waited for the right moment." Mateo shrugged helplessly.

The three of them kept cracking up before they all fell off the tree and landed on the ground still laughing.

"Oh my god, the looks on your faces were priceless." Naomi managed to say while laughing harder, in response, Elena picked a broken branch with leaves and starting smacking them one by one.

"So, you're telling me, you waited for Elena to come sit with me with a bag full of mistletoes' ready to be dump on us?"

The three of them nodded simultaneously.

"Although I was expecting you two to do something." Naomi replied with a smirk.

Elena raised a brow before asking, "Which is Naomi?"

"Kiss!"

If Elena was expecting Naomi to say something, this was not what she expected. Elena and Mateo both stared at Naomi in shock and looked back at each other, not moving an inch.

"Come on guys! Admit it! Me and Gabe have been betting on who makes the move first for a long time so get a move on so I can have gold coins!"

Skylar was quite in shock as well, he didn't expect Naomi to go that far. Luna thought and then agreed with Naomi.

Elena blushed deep red crimson and hid face in her arms as Mateo tried to think of an excuse to use. Instead, he got an idea.

"Llévaluq!" Mateo tapped his tamborita at Naomi, sending her floating up to the fountain.

"You dare drop me Mateo, I will make sure you won't see the next sun rise." Naomi threatened but Mateo just shrugged innocently and dropped Naomi in the fountain.

Luna and Skylar flew over and both grabbed Naomi out, leaving a wet Naomi standing with an angry expression clearly painted on her face. Mateo laughed at her face and muttered a drying spell that dried Naomi off.

After being dried off, "What was that for Mateo!?"

"To brain wash you." Mateo said amusingly as he twirled his tamborita in triumph. Elena laughed along with Mateo and shoved him with her shoulder knocking him over.

"Hey! Don't make me drop you next." Mateo pointed at Elena and tapped her head gently with his tamborita.

"Go ahead and try." Elena challenged as she leapt towards Mateo and grabbed his tamborita out of his hands easily, running off while taunting him.

Mateo walked over to a bush and pulled out his spare tamborita that he purposely kept there just in case while putting on a smug grin towards Elena.

"Llévaluq!" Mateo shouted towards Elena while tapping his tamborita, making Elena float up and back to him.

"What was that now Elena?" Mateo said with a smirk making Elena huff in disappointment but it was obvious to anyone who paid close attention to her that she was fighting a smile and a laugh.

"Don't worry Elena, I still have one more gift."

"Oh, you didn't have to Mateo-" Elena started.

"I want to" Mateo interrupted, "now close your eyes or I'm dumping you in a bush."

"Yes, ol' wise and rude wizard." Elena sarcastically replied.

Mateo just chuckled before running off to get his last gift that he wasn't able to get right away. Elena with her eyes shut while Naomi and Ducks sat on the grass waiting for something interesting to happen.

-----

Meanwhile Mateo ran as quickly as he can to get his last gift for Elena. Naomi, Skylar, Luna, and Elena sit at their boredom and decided to talk a bit while Mateo was getting his gift.

"So, did you guys tell Mateo to do this?" Elena asked.All three of them looked at each other and shook their heads. Elena smiled softly at the thought of sweet Mateo doing this all for her. She really didn't mind but this was enough to keep a huge smile on her face for days. Naomi, Luna, and Skylar suddenly went quiet which broke Elena out of her musings.

"Why so quiet you guys?"

"Oh it's nothing, we're just going over stuff." Naomi replied casually, Elena still unconvinced, scooted towards them and asked them again.

"Fine, we're talking about how this last gift could change things between you and Mateo, not that your relationship already changed over the years. Am I right?" Naomi patted Elena on the back and went back to talking about different kinds of ships. (The boat kinds, not the love ships kind. xD)

Elena stared blankly, furrowing her brows in thought, what changed between me and Mateo? We seem to act the same around each other, we talk, play, and do everything 'together'. The word together echoed in Elena's mind as she pondered these thoughts. Naomi and Gabe were like close siblings to her. But Mateo was different, he was more closer at heart. Then, it clicked. Brother wasn't the right word for Mateo, a sweetheart was.

"I- I like Mateo!?" Elena unexpectedly blurted out causing Naomi, Luna, and Skylar to pause mid-conversation and stare wide-eyes at Elena.

Silence. Elena turned away immediately away as Naomi, Luna, and Skylar looked back and fourth at each other, trying to understand the situation that had just happened.

Elena shyly tucked a hair stand behind her ear and replied to clear the silence, "S-sorry, I didn't mean to say it out loud."

"Sorry!? This is great!!" Naomi excitedly jumped to her feet and pulled Elena up as well and hugged her tightly.

"Uh, how? I just realized that I liked Mateo and never noticed til' now but- what if he doesn't feel the same way?" Elena replied and realized if Mateo didn't like her back, she might ruin their close friendship and it would hurt her very deeply.

"Elena", Naomi started. "Don't think that, I know Mateo for a long time and he's changed because of you."

"Yea! And he's more happy when he's around you." Luna happily added on.

"So you three think Mateo likes me too?" Elena asked her three friends who nodded in response.

Skylar walked up and pressed his nose against her hand in an affectionate rub, "Don't worry princesa, you're gonna see how lucky you are to have Mateo as your love, he's one of a kind just like you. So it's a perfect match!"

"Aww, thank you Skylar." Elena pressed her hand against Skylar's head and scratched in that spot behind Skylar's ears that would make Skylar melt to the ground. But before Skylar could even bend down..

"Okay! I have my last gift! Elena, are you still closing your eyes?" The same boy the four were just talking about came around the corner, clutching a wrapped gift to his chest, walking to them.

All four of them stood still as statues and hurriedly sat down in their places as they were. Mateo came at the right time to see them still in their places, Mateo's gaze shifted to Elena, his smile widened and the gift was clutched even closer to his chest as if he was protecting it with his life.

"You can open your eyes now Elena." Mateo said quietly as he placed a hand on Elena's shoulders as she opened her eyes and stared into his warm hazel eyes.

Naomi, Luna, and Skylar were watching from a distance and continued to watch as their anticipation grew rapidly.

"Hi", Elena greeted simply with a sunshine smile and continued, "So what you'd bring me Mateo?"

"Haha, you really can't wait can you?"

"Well, when you wake up to a beautiful Valentine's Day card at your door and scavenger hunt from a secret admirer who happens to be their closest best friend, who could hold their excitement?"

"I guess, ok. Here you go." Mateo handed Elena his wrapped gift, though Elena still kept her gaze at Mateo.

"Um, Elena?" Mateo asked, obviously noticing her stare.

"Hm- what?" Elena blushed and turned her gaze away from Mateo immediately.

"Aren't you gonna open the gift?" Mateo said pointing to his gift in her arms.

"O-oh, yes." Elena slowly untied the golden ribbon and opened the red wrapping paper to reveal a clear turquoise glass box with something inside. She looked at Mateo to see him waiting patiently for her to open the last layer to her gift. Elena carefully lifted the glass lid to reveal a beautiful gold necklace and bracelet with rare blue Maruvian crystals surrounded by the precise gold details. She gaped at the beautiful jewelry that was obviously hand made since each jewelry had painted on details and meaningful sentences written on them in Mateo's handwriting.

'Te amo Elena, así que estas son para que recuerdes a tu mejor amigo, ya que siempre estaré a tu lado hasta el final.' Elena read in her mind as she could feel tears of joy, just threatening to spill out. (Translated version: 'I love you Elena, so these are for you to remember your best friend, as I will always be by your side until the end.' )

Elena collected all her strength to stand up and stare into his warm hazel eyes. Her heart in her throat as she tried to come up with her own Elena-like confession.

Are- are you okay Elena? Did I do something wrong?" Mateo now concern at her tear-filled eyes and her trembling body, asked.

"I- I love you too." Elena said with her voice constricted with emotions as tears of joy flowed freely down her cheeks. She lunged forward, hugging Mateo tightly and buried her tear-covered face in his neck. Breathing in his cinnamon spice, herb scent probably from the ingredients he used for his potions. Instantly feeling warm from head to toe and safe in the arms of the person she -- now knows -- is helplessly in love with who loved her back just as much.

Mateo released the breath he hadn't realized he held and return the embrace with a comforting squeeze of his own, resting his cheek on her hair.

he other three watched the couple as their hearts warmed at the sight tremendously.

"So, are we together now?" Mateo asked, not that he was bothered by the comforting silence around them, just for reassurance.

"Mhmm", Elena hummed in content as she pulled back from the hug to bring her hand up to caress his face before planting a soft, lingering kiss to Mateo's lips. Snaking her arms around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer than they already are. Mateo being himself, exceeded her actions as always and kissed her with his own soft yet passionate kiss. His hands finding their way to Elena's waist, making Elena squeak a little as Mateo pulled her flush against him. As if in response, her hands moved from his neck to tangled in his brown chestnut curls, feeling each curls between her fingers. The two of them slowly but surely, lose themselves in their 'first kiss'. Everything around them disappeared as the only thing they see -- or feel really -- was them.

"I don't think we should be witnessing this." Skylar whispered to Naomi as he tried to look everywhere but the kissing couple who seemed to be in their own private world.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad. But let's go inside, I want to give them their 'privacy ' ", Naomi grinned as she walked with Skylar and Luna back inside the palace.

After what it seemed to be an eternity, Elena pulled back to meet his eyes as they touched foreheads together, still in each others arms.

"I love you so much Mateo", Elena said breathlessly and laid her head on his shoulder.

"And I, you mi amor." Mateo replied and tightened his arms around her. Elena grinned at the name Mateo was calling her as it brought warm thrilling shivers down her spine.

"It's getting pretty late, we should head back inside. We have a lot to talk about and I'd rather get more comfortable don't you think mi querido?" Elena asked, sliding her hands down Mateo's arm, leaving goosebumps on his arm while batting her eyelashes in a flirty way. Locking her seductive gaze at Mateo who blushed in response as warm chills were going though his spine like a rapid river who's dam had just been broken down.

"As you wish mi amor," Mateo offering his arm to his princess.

'This- This feels so right and amazing!', Elena thought as she took his arm and went inside the palace to her suite. Right after they cleaned up and dropped off the basket in the kitchen. Elena decided to walk off on her own pondering her thoughts while Mateo cleaned up.

Naomi crept up on Elena and asked, "So how was your time with Mateo, hmm?"

Elena sighed dreamily before continuing, "It was wonderful."

"I want to hear about all the details! But after you get comfortable in bed with your prince charming." Naomi smirked as she saw Elena blushed.

"Y-yea."

"Okay, I'm done cleaning up. Now shall we go up mi querida?" Mateo called up.

"Sure", Elena just realized what he called her and blushed. "Did you just call me querida?"

"Sure did" Mateo answered more confidently while wrapping an arm around Elena's shoulders in an affectionate embrace.

"Okay then mi querido, let's go to my room." Elena snuggled in his side as they continued walking up to her room.

Naomi smiled as the couple walked to their destination and walked off doing her stuff.

The couple had just reached to Elena's room as Mateo stepped forwards and held the door for Elena.

"Why thank you my handsome wizard." Elena fondly ruffled Mateo's hair as she walked in with him close.

"Yay! Bed time!" Elena eagerly said as Mateo laughed at her excitement for bed times, though not surprised since he knew she had lots of paper work to do as crown princess of Avalor. Elena got in bed, she patted the space next to her for Mateo to join in which he gladly complied. Once Mateo was seated on Elena's bed, she scooted closer and cuddled into Mateo's side, Mateo gladly welcomed Elena as he smoothed out her long black hair as a small intimate gesture.

"So Elena, what did you want to-" Mateo paused as he heard soft snoring and her slow breathing.

"Oh, I guess today was a tiring day." Mateo whispered to himself as he slowly slid down into the bed and clutched Elena close to his chest who moved and snuggled in his arms. The couple slept peacefully as Naomi ran to Gabe with Luna and Skylar following to explain what had happened today. Gabe felt extremely happy for the couple but understood why it must have been weird for Skylar to witnessed two people kissing.

"I mean, it wasn't that weird. It's just I don't see kissing as often." Skylar interjected.

"Sure, I've seen a lot of kissing happening during my travels outside and it's gotten me a bit uncomfortable as I've seen it happening more often."

"Oh hush you guard! It was adorable!" Naomi interjected.

"That's because you're a girl." Gabe retorted.

"Oh now you've gone and done it." Skylar muttered as he backed up from the situation.

"Excuse me?" Naomi looked offended.

"Yea Gabe, excuse me?" Luna added on staring at Gabe.

Upon realizing that he said something wrong, "Heheh, sorry?" Gabe smiled sheepishly and tried to run but the two girls grabbed him and dragged him to the closet where they locked him in.

"Hey! Let me out! I'm on night shift!"

Naomi and Luna fist bumped as they walked out with Skylar after sliding the key to the closet to Gabe.

"That'll teach ya a lesson to be careful with what you say Lieutenant Gabriel Nunez!" Naomi called back to Gabe and went to sleep as Skylar and Luna flew to their nests.

Elena snuggled into Mateo even closer if closer even existed anymore, Mateo's arms subconsciously wrapped Elena a bit tighter. In their peacefully slumber, Elena and Mateo dreamed about their future that they were gonna spend together and the story that they were going to write continuously. 'Together.'

#eleteo #cuddling #this took way longer than I'd hope #pfft #but it's totally worth it #valentine's day #2021 EoA Appreciation Week #I think I made this too long xD #oh well

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hoodharlow · 4 years

Note

can you do teaching calum spanish? like him getting a little embarrassed and you assure him he’s okay. sorry, english isn’t my first language. saludos xx

No te preocupes, I got you.

AN: I try avoid using y/n in my writing because I think it ruins the flow, so I gave anon a name. It will makes sense when you read it.

Summary: Cal walks into you the coffee shop where you work at and you try to explain the different cafecitos the shop serves.

“Hi welcome to La Casa del Café, what can I get you today?” I said before my breath hitched realizing who was next in line.

Calum fucking Hood, in all his glory. Well not like that, but there he stood 5 feet away from me. About to order at my cousin’s coffee shop. He looked so comfortable in an off-white color hoodie and rolled up jeans, all paired up with Doc Martens. An outfit very similar to mine except I wore the corny “La Casa del Café'' t-shirt my cousin made us wear instead of a comfortable hoodie.

“You can go I’m still not sure what to get.” He told an elderly woman, Doña Pina.

Doña Pina is one of our regulars. Every morning, her daughter drops her off at Zumba while she runs errands for her kids. She waits five minutes before walking over here and ordering her usual té de canela and riele de fresa, a puff pastry with strawberry filling. An hour or so passes, and she walks out to wait for her daughter. I’m pretty sure her daughter knows she doesn’t go to Zumba.

“Buenos días, Doña Pina, lo de siempre?” I ask her, just to make sure.

“Si y el muchacho de atrás para ti.” She confirmed pulling out a five dollar bill.

“Doña Pina,” I began.

“Al paso que vas te vas a quedar quedada como mi Juliana.” She shrugged. I rolled my eyes at her comment.

You graduate college and everyone wants you to get married and start popping out babies right and left. My abuela on my mom’s side straight up asked me if I was pregnant. No ma’am, I’m just gaining weight from working at the coffee shop because all I eat is pan dulce.

“Ahorita le mando la canela y el pan.” I shooed her away.

Knowing her, she would turn around and ask Calum if he’s single. Then proceed to try to set me up with him by telling him all my good qualities. I doubt he would look my way, a philosophy major that took a year off before starting law school because shit’s expensive, when he has models, influencers, actresses, and other girls in the entertainment industry to pick from.

I noticed Calum looking at my chest. Bruh, there’s nothing to look at there.

“How do you pronounce your name?” He asked. Oh, that’s why he’s looking at my nonexistent boobs. “Sorry that was super random and kinda weird. You don’t have to tell me. I’ll just-”

“It’s Tonantzin, but people call me Tony.” I cut off his rambling.

“To…”

“To-nant-zin.” I repeated, splitting it up by syllables.

My parents decided to give my sisters and I the most complicated names to pronounce. My older sister was named Citlaly while our younger sister was named Monserrat. Of course that just meant through all of elementary school all the rude ass kids would call her minced rat.

“Toe-nancy?” Calum said, slightly unsure. I shrugged, it was pretty close and on the first try. “Well, I’m Calum.”

“I know… I mean not like that. It’s just you’re, you know, Calum from 5 Seconds of Summer.” Great, now I’m rambling.

I quickly glanced over to Doña Pina, and she shook her head at me in embarrassment.

“I figured. I should order something.”

“Yeah, gotta keep the business running.” I chuckled nervously.

“What’s café de olla?” He asked, but he made the double ‘l’ sound like ‘l’ rather than ‘ye’.

“It’s actually olla. In Spanish the double ‘l’ makes a ‘ye’ sound. The way you pronounced it means either wave or hello. If it’s h-o-l-a then it’s hello, but if it’s o-l-a then it’s wave.” I explained.

Why am I like this? He’s probably gonna walk out and go to the Starbucks a few blocks down. Then Jose Luis, my cousin, is going to fire me because I’m driving away customers because I decided to teach them Spanish instead of taking their orders. I would be moneyless; therefore, I would have to drop out of law school before even going.

“Ola is for waving hellos. Get it?” He smiled. He’s cheeks instantly flush, and he clears his throat. He’s so fucking adorable. I just wanna hug him. "Sorry, that was stupid.”

“No!” I yelled, then I lowered my voice, “You’re good. I can be slow sometimes. It’s actually a pretty smart way to remember it.”

Calum gave me a relieved look. We stayed quiet for another few seconds. Thank god it was fairly slow this morning or I would have gotten yelled at.

“But, um, café de olla is just coffee made in a clay pot with water, cinnamon, piloncillo, a giant chunk of brown sugar, and finely ground coffee. Olla is pot in Spanish hence the name: café de olla, coffee made from the pot.” I explained.

I see him eye the pan dulce display next to the cash register. His eyes are glued to the polvorones with sprinkles. I loved eating those as a kid. I would dunk the pan in my milk and wait for the color to run off the sprinkles into the milk.

“I’ll take a cup of the café de olla.” He said looking away from the display.

“For here or to go?”

“I’ll take it for here, please.” He pulled out a ten dollar bill.

I gave him back seven dollars in change, all which he put in the tips jar. He just can’t give leave a 233% tip like that. I watched him walk over to the other end of the shop and pull out his laptop.

To my luck, we had run out, so I quickly started a new batch. “Mientes” by Camila, the Mexican rock band not the racist dating Shawn Mendes, started playing and I couldn’t help myself and started to dramatically lip sync to it while the coffee heated up. I used the whisk as a mic for my musical number.

After a few minutes the batch was done, I poured Calum’s in a taza de barro. My cousin brought a few dozen of these from where our dads’ family are from in Mexico.

I remember when we were younger we would wake up at the brink of dawn and go get leche recién ordeñada. My ‘lita would make a huge olla of coffee where the grown ups would add milk directly from the cow and an insane amount of alcohol. But for us kiddos, they would pour a spoonful of chocomil before adding the milk. We would all have our piece of bolillo. Except for my sister, Citlaly, she’s the world’s pickiest eater.

I grabbed one of the sprinkled polvorones before bringing Calum’s coffee to him where Doña Pina is chatting him up. I can’t with this woman.

“Mi’ja, I have to get going. It was nice meeting you, Calum.” She said, patting my shoulder. “Que no se te vaya el muchacho. Es buena gente.” she quickly added before waving at Calum.

“Here’s your coffee.” I said setting it next to him.

“I didn’t order this.” He gestured to the polvoron.

“I saw you eyeing it, so I assumed you’d like to try it.” I replied, casually, or I thought I did.

“It looks like fairy bread. When I was younger, on Sundays, my mum would always make fairy bread for my sister and I.” He said. His eyes had a little twinkle when he talked about home. He reached for his wallet. “Um, how mu-”

“On the house.” I cut in. He was about to protest, but I jokingly explained, “You made it out in one piece from a conversation with Doña Pina. She somehow manages to get the cute guys to walk her back to her daughter’s car.”

“What was the song you performed a few minutes ago? I really liked it… the song.” He asked randomly.

A la pinche madre, he saw me.

“Oh, it’s ‘Mientes’, by Camila. They’re a Mexican rock band.”

I went off explaining to him how their first album, Todo Cambio, is the best, but Dejarte de Amar slaps. I somehow transitioned to giving him other bands he should check out, like Los Enanitos Verdes, Maná, and Los Prisioneros. I also recommended Julieta Venegas because she’s that bitch.

A few hours later he left. He promised that he’ll come back for the coffee and polvorones. I jokingly told him that I would help him out with figuring out what the songs mean. He just smiled.

While on my lunch break, I tapped through Instagram stories. I stopped at Calum’s. He posted that on Spotify he was listening to ‘En el Muelle de San Blas’ by Maná. At the bottom he put a few hands in the air along with “cafe de olla and new music recommendations.”

#request #calum hood blurb #calum hood #calum hood imagine #calum hood one shot #calum hood fanfic #calum hood request #maná #camila the mexican band

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 4 years

Text

Anniversary

Happy Birthday @pizza-n-sunshine! Its a day early here but over there, it’s your birthday! I hope you have a wonderful time with your family and friends and perhaps some Pan dulce while you’re at it. You’ve been such a wonderful friend, a leader almost as you created such beautiful fanfics that undoubtedly brought a smile to my face or occasionally pulled at my heart. You’ve helped host and edit one of the most rocking podcasts, and what’s more. You’ve been unfailingly kind, open hearted and sweet to everyone looking to squeal their hearts out over this wonderful show. An era may be over, but your magic within and your light will always shine so bright. Enjoy! Elena took a deep breath and peeked from the corner of her eye. Mateo was sitting silently, crossed legged and breathing deeply to the sounds of Flo singing around the courtyard, sniffing the flowers and generally dancing with delight over the bright sunny day.

Or more likely Mateo was meditating in spite of Flo's cheerful singing.

The fluffy alpacamundi was truly adorable and sweet, she had been a manifestation of all of Elena's happiness after all, but meditative and staying quiet were never one of her key traits.

Speaking of manifesting Elena's happiness.

She peeked out of the corner of her eye at Mateo's blissful face. It seemed he reached his peace. Elena felt the familiar flutter in her stomach even though she had been lucky enough to see his face every day for the past six years now. But she could never get enough of it.

The crookedness of his lips when he felt a bit uncomfortable that made her heart go out to him, but as adorkably endearing. The soft brown curls that Elena loved running her fingers through, mussing it a bit, making him look untamed. Which reminded her of his eyes.

His beautiful expressive hazel eyes and how his feelings shone out of them clear as the sun. The mischievous twinkle, the wicked glint at night, the tenderness....Ah the tenderness she loved. For even though she was a strong queen, she prided herself on the fact, she was able to let go around him, and for that she was grateful.

He would never see it as a weakness or see her as less weak. He just held her, and she reveled in that affection. Yes, he was also a manifestation of happiness.

Not that she created him. But he brought her happiness all the same.

Which is why on this bright spring day, she was enjoying this morning by having a day off and meditating with him. Well that and one other reason. It happened to be their one year anniversary.

She hadn't been expecting a parade or a bouquet of flowers, she wasn't so high-maintenance, but a little something.

She would have preferred a day with no work, no other people. Just her and Mateo curled up in some little concealed part of the garden, enjoying each other's company. And perhaps more.

In fact, that had been what she expected when Mateo arrived at her door, asking her if she wanted to go out to the garden.

When they got to the far corner of the garden with its apricot mallow flowers. It was a secluded spot, mainly because it seemed that there was not much to look at but the sparse hills. Which was true during the daytime, but at night, with its simple view, it made the sunset all the more stunning and vivid. In fact it reminded her a bit of Mateo.

How people saw him as a somewhat shy and dorky wizard, even he saw himself as that, doubting his skills and abilities. But Elena just knew ever since he helped free her from her amulet that there was a spark, a royal master wizard in him that just needed to believe in himself. Seemingly plain at first glance, but at the right moment, he could take your breath away.

So with all these clues, she waited for him to magic up a blanket, perhaps a picnic of her favorite pan dulce treats and enjoy their alone time.

Instead Mateo said that he had wanted to do some meditation outside since it was so nice out. He sat down, patted the spot next to her and closed her eyes. So she played along even attempting to do a downward dog while he was in a perfectly content butterfly pose. And it had been like this for the past 10 minutes. Either he was really good at holding out the surprise or he really didn't know what it was.

Nothing new going on here, no smile or Happy anniversary.

Elena shook her head. What was wrong with her? This is what she wanted after all. Alone time with Mateo. Which was even more solitary now that Flo was gone, bored by their inaction.

But still...a little acknowledgement would have been nice. After all, for her the moment they gave into their feelings had been like an unexpected bolt of lightning, a feeling of shock after the Coronation ceremony.

She had thought finally being crowned queen, surrounded by her family and friends, had been cathartic enough. But when she found the words to tell Mateo her intense feelings and Mateo return them in turn, a new catharsis came. Everything fitting into place. A moment of completeness.

She had somewhat realized her feelings months before. It had been during the first few days after Naomi's departure. She had felt lost without her best friend.

She always treasured the blonde's company, and she hadn't wanted to stand in the way of her dreams, but she hadn't been expecting such feelings of abandonment and loneliness.

Mateo had seen her wandering the hallways, nostalgically looking at their picture together and did what he did best. He listened, he sympathesized, he gave her comfort like no one else could. There was something about that understanding look, the soft feel of his wool rub that made her feel safe, like everything would be okay in the end. There was no judgement, just love. Maybe that had been running undercurrent in her mind.

For when Mateo reminded her that between the three of them, and Isabel's inventions, Avalor would be well-protected and he and Gabe might not be able to do girl-talk. they would take over the other best friend activities, something rang false.

When he assured her that Naomi would come back to her true home after she sailed the seven seas, that this was no different than if it had been Gabe leaving on a guard search or Mateo travelling to find some new spells.

She didn't know what it was but the idea of Mateo leaving struck more deep than the sadness she felt at Naomi's departure. The thought of Mateo leaving for an indefinite amount of time, no idea when or if he would come back was like the ground opening up under her. Being stuck back in the amulet. Without Mateo by her side, she would lose her biggest source of comfort. Her biggest sharer of puns. He helped calm her, reminding her of her mother's song. Being with Mateo was like being with someone who was perfectly attuned with her feelings. They could share a look and know exactly what the other was thinking. He was more than a friend. He was...

That's when it hit her.

But she just smiled at Mateo and nodded, leaning into the crook of his neck, all the while trying to calm her fluttering heart and focus on jaquins and pan dulce in hopes of keeping the thoughts at bay.

She had done a good job of it. Mateo had been so surprised when she admitted her feelings for him. But then after Naomi had left there had been many things to distract her. The coming darkness, her lying cousin, malvagos, planning Chloe's party, her own coronation coming up.

She got swept up in the bustle of life and tried her best to ignore the feelings of warmth and happiness that Mateo's smile gave her. She had to wait. She had to wait till she was ready.

That came after the day after Coronation.

She had been more than ready to start the day. Even though it wasn't royal queen behavior, she had run down the hall, as eager as she had at 16. And she ran right into Mateo.

He had smiled and teased her, "Someone's excited to do paperwork." They had held each other's arms a bit too long. They laughed and had looked longer into each other's eyes than a best friend should.

And she plunged, "Mateo, how are... I mean.. I'm gad we danced. But I had really wanted to have that first dance with you." He blushed and sheepishly rubbed his neck, "It;s fine. Francisco has been there for you for so long.."

“Yes, but you have been with me too." Elena interrupted, feeling that she had to blurt everything now even if her tongue was slower than the words speeding in her head, "No matter what. And.. I will be there for you no matter what too." "Of course, Elena, I never doubted that."

“And I love you. I think I really love you."

The emotions across Mateo's face were brief yet distinct. Confusion, disbelief, shock, happiness. His voice wavered because despite his gleeful face, he still couldn't believe his ears, "You do?"

“Yes." Elena inhaled, feeling the weight, the nervous flutter dissipated even if he might reject her.

Though she doubted it from his glowing features. "I-I do too." Mateo whispered, still unsure so much like the young wizard she had encouraged to find the magic within than the confident man he was now.

They smiled, Elena felt like her face would split wide open. Mateo smiled at her and it made her smile more which made him smile that sweet crooked smile.

They kissed, starting a bit hesitant, a bit awkward, but then their lips touched and once more completeness enveloped her. That and warmth and fireworks. It was a world unto her own and she was floating in his arms.

Her mind was at once blank, only feeling Mateo's touch and spinning with questions in a freefall. She also felt a sense of imbalance at Mateo's admittance. When she realized her feelings she hadn't been sure that Mateo liked her in that way.

He had said they were friends, kept assuring he would always be there for her, that's what friends did. But to realize that Mateo had been hiding feelings too.

She wondered when it started. She had her answers soon enough after they stopped kissing. Embarrassingly caught by Senora Torrez and Flo's knowing smiles.

They talked long into the night after a busy day of work that she hadn't been able to concentrate as she should have. She had been embarrassed to find out that Mateo realized his feelings long before her and that she had remained perfectly oblivious. Mateo told her that it was fine, she had more important things going on then and he had thought she wouldn't feel the same way for a simple wizard like him.

She reminded him that he was not a simple wizard, he was so much more than that and she believed he was capable of great things. They talked about the depths of their feelings, how they had always felt a connection. Elena even mentioned how it transcended dreams like her nightmare universe where Esteban reigned.

No matter what was more than a saying between then. It was an oath, a promise they'd never break. They'd always be there for each other.

The slight annoyance that Mateo was not remembering what day it was faded away at the thought of their saying.

“Stop it, Elena" she scolded herself, "He has a lot of other things on his mind.” With teaching Olivia and his other apprentices, and advising Gabe's magic squadron, and helping rebuild alliances and dealing with complaints. He must need this meditation time in order to relax.

She certainly knew he needed sleep from staying up all night perfecting spells and preparing potions, his mind constantly racing to find more knowledge. Though she must admit she found the result of his lack of sleep- his spontaneous cat naps around the palace- adorable.

Not everything is going to be focused on their relationship. He was going to get distracted and forget once and a while. That didn't matter. She knew he loves her. She glanced at Mateo again, he looked so peaceful. A small smile on his lips, his head bowed in concentration.

How times have changed.

She never thought once she became queen that everything would be fine. There were still minor attacks from villagers awakening a sleeping magical creature mixed with the more mundane, and politically-tricky kingdom negotiations.

But it was nowhere near the life or death battles against shades and malvagos, and battling her own intense emotions reflected through her magic powers. She was confident now, she knew how to rule and balance her own feelings with the greater picture for the good of the kingdom.

It was certainly a different time from when she was first released from her amulet. She chuckled at how impatient and overconfident she had been, with no clue of how much she was about to learn and experience.

Oh and now she, the Queen of Avalor, was the girlfriend of the Master Royal wizard.

Mateo was her soul mate. A boy with many talents, but the biggest one was his heart and bravery despite all that he had been through.

He had grown the most over the years they've together from studying in the darkness of the basement, hiding his chispa from Shuriki's forces to facing his own insecurities to staring down the most dangerous malvagos the Everrealm had known.

Elena shook her head. She was going to forget all that special anniversary nonsense. She was happy enough being with him, and seeing him happy.

She got up, and kissed the top of his head, 'I'm going to go tell Armando to bring some pan dulce for us. Yoga works up an appetite.

“Especially if it's Ixlan's extreme yoga." Mateo smiled.

Elena laughed and stopped by the fountain seeing Flo splashing around with the birds. "Flo can you tell Armando to bring some pan dulces to the far end of the garden."

"Oo pan dulce! Can I eat some!? Can I eat some?!" Flo pleaded.

"Of course you can." Elena promised. "Yipee!" Flo called, racing off to find Armando.

Elena walked back and saw Mateo frantically setting up a blanket as flower bouquets and garlands levitating in the air.

“You remembered?" Elena gasped, running to hug Mateo from behind, causing the petals to fall down, petals spinning around them as they crashed.

"Heh, I was hoping to surprise you, but you wouldn't close your eyes for meditation." Mateo said, his crooked smile bringing out his laugh lines, "I know you wanted to spend the day together but I thought I'd make it a little bit magical." He motioned to the formerly levitating objects and she giggled at his pun.

“I love it!" Elena beamed, and kissed him, savoring the the taste of his lips, how he was almost hesitant at first, probably from surprise, but then it deepened, filled with longing as all her senses went on overdrive, intoxicated by the touch of Mateo, his taste, his warmth. Everything, it left her breathless. But she had one present to give him first before she forgot...

"I got you something too," she frantically reached into her belt where she had clumsily tied her present next to her scepter but had hoped that he wouldn't have noticed.

They had said they wouldn't get gifts but she had broken the promise anyway. Her gift was an old spellbook she had found in her father's office, now hers. King Raul had been close with Alacazar, very interested in magic works as much as science. The spellbook was Alacazar's when he had first been named royal wizard, scrawled with Alacazar's and Raul's personal notes, and she thought it would be fitting that Mateo should have it as the Master Royal Wizard.

She added her own touch of putting the words, "Bravery,' "Discipline," "Courage," and "Love" in classical Maruvian thanks to Naomi's help.

"Wow!" Mateo inhaled, reverently gliding his hands on the smooth cover, "Thank you, Elena."

"I love you." "I love you too." Mateo replied and pulled her closer for another kiss.

"Whatcha doing?" Flo sing-songed, leaping onto Elena's shoulder with a roguish smile, causing the two to reluctantly pull apart to see Armando's fluster face as he left a plate of pan dulce on the discarded blanket.

“So shall we start the meditation again?" Elena teased, snuggling close to Mateo's side, popping a pan dulce in her mouth as Flo eagerly chowed down.

"Elena!" Mateo cried indignantly, "It's our anniversary, this isn't no ordinary day."

Elena laughed as she recalled her thoughts minutes ago, "What do you suggest?'

"I know the perfect way to clear our minds" Mateo smiled and leaned for another blissful kiss.

#elena of avalor #my fanfiction #my fanfic #anniversary #gift #eleteo #mateo de alva #elena castillo flores

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rydenwrites · 3 years

Video

Derived from Chapter 28 of ‘Blood must have blood’, exclusively on AO3.

Sam didn’t leave just yet. He was still worried about you. You didn’t look fine, no matter how many times you said it, there was no evidence of that fact. It looked like you were barely breathing, which you weren’t, and the parts of your face that he could see all looked tired beyond belief.

“What happened?” he asked, watching you flinch at the sound of his voice.

“Nothing, sir,” you whispered.

What could you possibly say? ‘My stepbrother raped me for years and years, then I went to prison for murdering him when I actually was only trying to stop him, then two of your fellow officers raped me, but everyone thinks it’s consensual and that I’m sleeping with them for favours, which means that the other inmates are threatening me, and now the whole world knows about what happened with my stepbrother, has seen what happened, and it’s all my fault.’.

Everyone knows. And no one knows. That’s what happened.

The lovely video quote is made by @pan-dulce-por-favor <3

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iamtotallycool · 4 years

Text

What could’ve been (AU)

I can’t even remember when I wrote this EOA idea...maybe even before “The Magic Within” because I just had a FEELING that we would be getting a liar revealed plot soon.

So, as we watch Esteban continue to fall more and more down the dark path, let’s all take a time to envision a different dimension where swallows his pride and fears and puts his family before him by deciding to come clean.

Enjoy!

Esteban was a Flores through and through. Despite his preference to use scheming tactics, smarmy attitude, and a genuine love for peace and quiet; he also had a competitive streak and fiery personality if he was pushed too hard.

Above all though, he was loyal to his familia.

And he could no longer hide the truth from them.

Esteban had been waking up in a cold sweat for the past week, and each day bringing him closer to Carnaval. And also closer to the day that reminded him of the biggest mistake of his entire life.

His family hadn't said anything at all, but he could tell by their somber moods that they were all silently grieving in their own ways for Avalor's beloved King and Queen. Some of the townsfolks had started to leave small offering and flowers at their graves as well, showing that even in death, they still had the love of the people to this very day.

However, Avalor would be having a new ruler in less than a year.

It was hard to believe how the time had seem to flown by; with that nearly disastrous first day of Elena's rule now a distant memory. Esteban was positive that he had taught her everything he could possibly know about politics. So much so, that she didn't even really need him now, as she had made that abundantly clear these past few weeks.

So, the last possible thing he figured he could do for her, was to not risk tainting the start of her true reign with a scandal of realm-tearing proportions.

Which is what brought him to his current predicament.

Esteban took one more deep breath before pounding on the wooden door.

The dungeon door swung open to reveal the pudgy face of Higgins. It still threw Esteban for a loop sometimes to not see the two menacing and scarred faces of Shuriki's own bannermen that he had grown accustomed to during the dark years.

Victor and Carla should be considering themselves lucky.

Then again, so might he.

"Chancellor Esteban!" The man exclaimed in a voice loud enough to echo against the stone walls.

Esteban winced a little, this man really didn't know the word "discretion."

"You are to leave me alone with the prisoners for the next 15 minutes."

Higgins forehead creased in confusion. "But, Princess Elena was very strict that we are to not leave the prisoners alone at anytime."

Esteban narrowed his eyes. "And am I so incapable that I cannot make sure that two petty, unarmed, locked up, malvagos escape?"

Higgins paled and shook his head furiously. "No Sir! I didn't mean anything like that! I only meant--"

"Esteban!"

Esteban turned to see Naomi running down the hallway to him.

Damn, he thought he had more time.

"You have your orders," Esteban said hastily to Higgins. "Now go."

The soldier looked like we wanted to say something else, but knew in the end to not to go against his superior, just like the obedient...and good soldier he was. So he merely saluted.

"Yes Chancellor."

Naomi's eyes followed after Higgins suspiciously as he marched past her. It only momentarily fazed her though, before all her attention was immediately turned back on him.

Esteban didn't break his rigid posture and said in a cool tone, "What can I do for you Ms. Turner?"

"Don't you Ms. Turner me!" Naomi shoved some parchment in his face, "What's this?"

"It looks like a letter," Esteban replied flatly.

Naomi scowled. "That says your resigning from your position as Chancellor and naming me instead."

Esteban let out an exaggerated sigh. "I am aware of that Ms. Turner, since I am the one who wrote the letter."

"What's going on then?" Naomi asked as she crossed her arms. "Are you planning on going somewhere?"

"In a way."

"In a way!?" Naomi exclaimed, clearly annoyed.

Esteban didn't respond though. It was better this way.

"If you don't tell me what's going on right now, you know I'm going to tell Elena."

"There is no need to say such things." Esteban swallowed so hard that his throat bobbed,

"Because I will be talking to her myself as soon as I...take care of a few more things."

Naomi's hard glare then slowly transformed into a much softer expression.

"Why must you wait until you tell Elena later and not just tell me now?" Naomi tentatively reached out and rested her hand on his arm, "You know I give everybody a chance to speak their side of the story."

Despite the circumstances, Esteban felt himself smile. "You truly are a remarkable woman. You will make a fine Chancellor Ms. Turner."

"I know I will be."

Esteban chuckled at her sure-fire confidence. It surprised him that only upon recent introspection had he realized how much their relationship had changed since the first time he had met her. How their interests and daily lives seemed to line up with each passing day, and that her presence, her ideas, and even her cheeky remarks, had become something so familiar.

Naomi sighed as she reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "But...I just would prefer if we could do it together."

Why? He had already made peace with everyone else over the last few days: playing guitar with his Abuelo by the fire, enjoyed a fine helping of pan dulces freshly made by his Abuela while they had afternoon tea, and gave Isabel his textbooks from back in his younger years as a student. As for Elena, he had already felt they had shared so many moments and confessions that there was nothing else he could possibly say to her.

So why was it Naomi of all people that was making him feel so weak right now? That his iron resolve could deteriorate this very instant and he could continue to live his life beside the people he cared about in an ignorant bliss.

When he looked back into her somehow sharp but compassionate blue eyes though, he felt the guilt instantly seep into him and settle in the pit of his stomach. He saw his home, his family, and every good moment he had since Shuriki was overthrown reflecting back at him...and how much more of a betrayal it would be to all those things everyday he remained silent.

"This is true." Was all he could say.

Esteban took her hand off his arm and placed a kiss on the back of it.

"I give you my word that I will be joining you and the rest of the council shortly." Esteban then smirked. "And I believe in the meantime, that you will be plenty of busy preparing for Carnaval with Dona Paloma."

"Don't remind me," She instantly groaned. "The costumes are the worst things I've ever seen. I'm going to look like an ugly, metallic banana."

"That is surely impossible."

Naomi looked at him in surprise.

To be fair, he was surprised by his own sentiment too. It was probably tied though to this feeling that if he didn't say everything he thought in these small interactions he would be having, he might never get to say them again.

"Thanks," Naomi said as she began folding up his letter carefully and putting it in her skirt pocket. "Just, be safe."

Esteban nodded.

Naomi returned the same gesture before heading down the dimly lit corridor.

Once she rounded the corner and was out of sight, Esteban took one more deep breath before opening the door and entering the dungeon.

Esteban kept his head held high and his footsteps even as he walked to the deepest and darkest part of the dungeon.

He finally stopped and stood firmly in front of the cell that was located in the farthest corner, observing the two prisoners inside.

Victor looked like he had lost some weight, as he leaned against the cell wall that was right next to the bars. Even his usually styled silver streaked hair was mussed up and unkept. He had also removed his Malvago robes as they were instead tucked around a sleeping Carla, leaving him only in a stained shirt and hose.

It brought Esteban no smug satisfaction seeing his lifelong rival reduced to such a pitiful state.

Well, maybe a little bit.

Although Victor didn't look at him, he acknowledged Esteban's presence.

"Took a while for you to come here, old friend."

Esteban shrugged, "Unlike you, I've become a man with duties and responsibilities to an entire Kingdom."

"Well, while you've been doing you're oh-so important duties, I've been trying to take care of my daughter. Carla's having a hard time eating and sleeping," Victor said with an unusually solemn expression. "She's not used to being in a cell."

"And who's fault is it that she's here?"

Victor flinched slightly.

"By the way, I heard you talking to the young Ms. Turner," Victor purred. Esteban felt his blood run hot at the way he said her name. How dare he speak her name. Especially in that vile, snake-like tone.

"If I had known how much of a predator you were, I would have had second thoughts about sending my daughter undercover here for those weeks," Victor said curtly as he pointed to the wooden bed. Esteban knew that Carla was probably feigning sleep though, it was the easiest form of deception to learn. However, there was no harm that she or Victor could do, not after what he was planning on doing once he left here.

"Oh please," Esteban said gruffly. "You were much more of a predator around Elena back when you were only two years older than her."

"I courted Elena properly," Victor said defensively. "How was I to know that she was so much of a prude that I barely got a hand under her skirt before she threw me aside."

Esteban felt his self control snap as he fisted a handful of Victor's thread barren shirt and slammed him against the cell door, rattling the iron bars.

Once the noise dispelled, the dungeon became hauntingly quiet as each man stared the other down.

Esteban's lips then curled into a sneer.

"It's refreshing to see how insecure you really are." Esteban brought his face close enough that they were now nose to nose. "I wish Elena had tossed you aside, laughed at you, and told you that you weren't even worthy enough to lay at her feet; rather than reject your marriage proposal because she felt she wasn't ready, seeing as she was barely 16."

"Not ready," Victor muttered bitterly. "I highly doubt she's as innocent as she looks."

"Maybe not entirely," Esteban said as he released his hold on Victor's shirt. "But she has a good heart where it counts."

"You still believe that she or even the rest of your family will forgive you just because you haven't actively tried to kill them in the last couple of years?" Victor motioned his head towards the prison window that faced towards the sea. "A betrayal is still a betrayal as I'm sure Duke Cristobal would agree from his cell in Nueva Vista."

"I don't expect any type of forgiveness from them," Esteban said grimly as his hand closed into a tight fist.

Victor than began laughing maniacally. "This is a truly fantastic sight! Finally seeing that even after all these years and all this power, I'm still the only friend you've got. The only one who knows exactly who you are."

"You are in no position to be laughing, as you are just as alone as I am."

"I'm not sure what you are talking about," Victor said smugly. "I have Carla with me and a powerful and ruthless Malvago for a wife, who Elena has yet to capture."

"And you're still under the delusion that Ash will come for you?" Esteban scoffed. "Thankfully, it seems you never truly taught your daughter to be just as under-handing and despicable as you are, or she would have never come back for you if she knew it was a non-win situation."

That seemed to silence Victor, but now, this back and forth of insults and degeneracy was no longer bringing Esteban any joy. It was instead only reminding him of that dark shell he had put around his heart for 41 years. And he never wanted that again.

"I just wanted to let you know if you had any information that you wanted to use as a bargaining chip, I suggest you do it soon while Elena may be merciful, blackmail won't work on me anymore."

"Even if that means losing your precious familia?"

"I already lost them before." Esteban sighed, "At least this time when I lose them again, I know they'll all be happy and alive."

With his conscience feeling somewhat cleared again, Esteban turned on his heels and headed back to the dungeon door.

"Don't get cold feet and think you can blame everything that happened 41 years ago on me!" Victor shouted after Esteban. "If I get executed, it will be my blood on your hands!"

"Why would I ever do that?" Esteban replied coolly, his back still turned to Victor as he continued to retreat. "After all, you are my only friend."

#Disney #disney jr #esteban flores #naomi turner #esteomi #slightly #victor delgado #au

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angrypixie-sarisa · 5 years

Text

Quién Fuera

Piedras rodantes pt.11

Sam xMexican!witch!fem!readerx Dean (polyamorous)

Song recommendation (the one of the title): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OdRsnvz_ZXg

description of this part: remember the four horsemen? Remember that episode with famine? I do.

warnings: flansgt? cursing. Lucifer appears, famine too. Full disclosure, I cannot bring myself to hate Lucifer because of the foz show adopted by Netflix, but it doesn’t mean that I’m describing him as a totally innocent character.

Also couldn’t find a sad hug GIF that best described this so I used rain.

Not my GIF, credits and love to the owner

They were voices, voices calling your name with an unnerving calmness. The words ran down your spine slowly, accompanied by the drops of your cold sweat. You tossed in bed; clutching the covers hard. You covered your head, maybe that way you’ll get some heat into your body. But the voices wouldn’t stop.

You kept opening and closing your eyes. Your heart wanted to run out of your chest. Your head hurt and your eyes burned. This was not normal.

Stop thinking. I can’t. You must. Why is this happening? Honey, listen, take deep breaths, you’re going to be fine. You obeyed yourself and started to take in shaky breaths in. They slowly became more stable. You placed a hand in your chest, over your heart. You imagined it glowing brighter with every inhale and a little less bright with every exhale. You imagined it until it happened. Under the covers a beautiful light illuminated your small sanctuary; it shined a light pink tone, like the pink of quartz.

That feels more like us.

You got the covers off of you, sat down and turned on your bedside lamp. Your chest still glowed, but it would go away, eventually. You cupped your hands and held them close to your chest, as if you were holding your heart soothingly in them.

“¿Qué pasó mi amor? ¿Por qué nos pusimos así?” You hadn’t had a caffeinated coffee in the evening, nor did you had dinner late or ate heavily before going to sleep. So, why?

You heard a silent laugh come from one of the corners of your room. Your blood went cold immediately. It was an unknown laugh.

“Ah, that’s why.” You said, though your voice hardly held the sweetness it had moments ago.

A man came out of the dark into the light. He was…handsome and not human. He had an unsettling aura around him, like demons did, yet there was something rather enticing about him. He wasn’t a demon. He was an angel, more like an archangel. And which archangel would have an unsettling aura that almost matches a demon’s?

“Hello, Lucifer.” The man stopped in his tracks, standing in front of you. A smile grew big in his face.

“They told me you were a tough one to break. I was growing disappointed on you until you calmed down. Definitely filled the expectations.” He sat down in the bed, a foot away from you.

“Well, I would’ve certainly put up more of a fight if I knew you were coming.” He laughed again.

“I see I can safely say you’re not like the others.” You rolled your eyes.

“Seriously? Don’t say that, you sound like a fuckboy. What do you want?” The devil shrugged.

“To meet you, that’s all. Can’t I meet the girl that makes Sam Winchester breathless?” You furrowed your brow, glaring at him.

“No, seriously, what do you want?” You got up from bed and went to your kitchen. You would need a tea to fall back asleep. And that confused Lucifer. So far no one had ever dared to turn their back on him or treat him lightheartedly, like he wasn’t a big of a deal. He followed you to your kitchen and watched curious as you filled a kettle with water and turned on the stove to boil it.

“I’m just curious.” He answered as he took a sit at your kitchen table.

“La curiosidad mato al gato.” You muttered.

“Pero murió sabiendo.” He said back. Now that was a surprise. You turned quickly to look at him and saw him shrug his shoulders.

“I’m a divine creature, we know different languages.” You hummed suspiciously. When your kettle started whistling, you took it out of the flames, turned off the stove and poured the water in a mug with one of your homemade tea bags in it.

“There are rumors that you’re a powerful witch.”

“There are rumors about lots of things, not all of them are true.” Suddenly, he was at your side, leaning in close, looking deep into your eyes.

“So are you saying you’re not powerful, darling?” Out of reflex, you put a hand on his face and pushed him away swiftly.

“Cabrón, espacio personal, por favor. Es muy temprano para estas mamadas.” His face was colored red of embarrassment. What was with this human? Who did she think she was to do that to him?

You felt his heavy glare on you, but you couldn’t give a shit. You glared back, making sure to keep up with his eye contact.

“O te comportas o te vas. Yo no estoy aquí para andar aguantando estas chingaderas.” You took a sip of your tea, still glaring at him dead in the eye. Lucifer was the first one to break eye contact. He shrugged and took a sit at the nearest chair.

“Okay.” He appeared in front of him a plate with a pan dulce on top of it. A concha, to be more specific. He took a bite, moaning at the flavor of the bread.

“So, you asked what I’m doing here. Simple…” He said with a full mouth. He took a pause to swallow his food then continued his sentence. “I want you in my team.” You scoffed.

“Aw, that’s sweet, but no thanks. I don’t take teams. Whatever you’re doing, it’s not my problem.”

“Oh but it is. You see, this is all because of you, humans. The hairless apes that father always favored so…” You rolled your eyes. Here we go again.

“Yeah, that’s bullshit.” Once again, the devil found himself surprised.

“You angels and demons act like it all comes down to humanity, that we humans are nothing but pawns in your game and that we have to serve you. And that’s bullshit. All of this is nothing but some selfish case. You want hell on earth and your siblings want to stop you because >>Daddy’s orders << and you get mad at humans because we were the big guy’s favorite and take him and his beautiful creation for granted. And to be honest, I’m mad at humans too, for that specific reason. But I don’t think hell on earth or a fucking apocalypse is the solution. And also, for been divine creatures and all, you are pretty impatient and hold grudges really easy. Talk about example. Did I leave something unsaid, uncovered?” You arched your eyebrow at his thunderstruck face. Just when he went to open his mouth, something crossed your mind. </p>

“Actually, never mind. There are always gonna be unsaid words. That was a stupid question.” He was mute. He never had anyone talk to him like that before, never founded someone who wasn’t afraid of him and not a worshipper at the same time. As if you could see right through him. His lackeys had warned him about that and still, here he was, falling in the trap like everyone else.

Your gaze softened. Was that…sympathy? Empathy?

“Look, I know everyone places you like the bad guy. I know you’re tired of that and that it’s easier to just go by it than to make them understand. Believe me when I say that I get it, you’re trying your best. I understand.” He squinted. He felt like he knew you. He definitely knew you from somewhere, but he couldn’t pin it. Without saying a word, Lucifer disappeared in the blink of an eye. And your kitchen fell silent again.

++++++++++++++++++++++

You made yourself comfy in your bed. You took deep breaths, clenching your hands when inhaling and unclenching when exhaling. Then you relaxed into your bed and pillows and drift off into sleep.

Usually, your mind took you places, like a beach or a forest, a lake or a river. This time it was all white, infinite and empty, except for an old and sick looking man, sitting in a wheelchair and looking at you.

You smiled softly. Looks like it’s gonna be a busy night. You approached the man and conjured a chair beside his. You took a sit and stared into the void.

“Hi, Famine.” The old man smiled weakly.

“Ah yes, the witch. Tell me, what brings you here with me?” You shrugged.

“You tell me, I was just going to sleep. For what it looks like, I think you were pulling me towards you. Anything you wanna talk about?”

“Oh, I’m already dying, darling. I don’t think I wanna waste my time talking.” You hummed and kept looking into the distance. This place is so boring. Slowly, you imagined a dessert, with sandy dunes and a few trees in the distance. A starry night slowly made its way on top of your heads until you were both engulfed by the magnificent dessert.

“Oh, the dessert, a famish landscape. Good choice.” You shrugged and relaxed, hearing the noises of nearby rattlesnakes, coyotes, insects and mice. You kept silence, comfortable with it and aware that not everyone liked to co-exist with silence.

“Why are you doing this?” Famine asked, bothered. You placed your right hand in the sand; a rattle snake slowly climbed it, moving towards your shoulders and into your left arm before going back into the dessert.

“You want to talk; you just need time to open up. In the mid-time, I wanna enjoy the scenery of a beautiful ecosystem.”

“You mean dying ecosystem.” You shook your head.

“It’s not dying. It’s rich in minerals, it has plants and animals. They are made for this place and just because it isn’t full with water it doesn’t mean that it’s dead and ugly.” A coyote neared cautiously. You stayed still until they felt comfortable, rubbing their head on your arm, asking for pets. You complied with their demands, petting their head.

“It doesn’t matter; you are all going to die.” The coyote growled at famine, showing their teeth. You hushed them softly, whispering “It’s okay”, until they calmed. However, deciding they didn’t want to be there anymore they went away.

“That’s what’s bothering you?”

“It bothers me how incredibly naïve and stupid humanity can be. You think you’re safe, you let the people at the bottom die and then blame it on us. But when we take action, you get mad. Hypocrites.” You took in his words and smiled, confusing him.

“I know. We are the worst aren’t we? We think our problems have to do with an external factor or entity rather than accept that we cause our own apocalypse. We are the children of the universe and haven’t learned a single thing about owning our mistakes and learn from them, making ourselves better.” That’s when he looked at you. You were smiling at the stars. You’re optimism was untouched.

“So, you agree?” You turned to look at him.

“I don’t condone the methods you’re using or the suffering of another being, for that matter. But I understand. I understand the lesson, not the cause.” He then rolled his eyes.

“You’re useless.” You laughed, throwing your head back. You got up from your chair and starting walking towards a manifested door a few feet in front of you.

“Have a great night. And please, don’t harm the animals.” You opened the door and stepped right through it, not waiting for his answer.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You woke up slowly this time. You took a deep breath and blinked several times before sighing and looking into your nightstand clock, it was really late.

You rubbed your eyes and yawned before a chill ran down your spine. Instantly, your mind went to Sam and you couldn’t help but picture him crying.

As fast as you could you grabbed a jacket and put on your flip-flops. You neared the nearest closed door and tried to channel Sam’s energy. You concentrated on his figure and his surroundings until they became clearer and clearer.

You took a deep breath and opened the door. The sight in front of you was worse than what you were imagining. He was sitting all the way down to the floor, hugging his legs up to his chest and head buried in between. His form trembled and every now and then you could hear a tiny sob escaping his lips.

You took a step and passed through the veil. You cautiously, but loud enough to catch his attention, approached him. His head jerked in panic and when his eyes landed on your figure his panic only intensified.

“Y/N?” He asked, fear written in his words and his voice sounded sore.

“Hey, it’s me, Sammy. I’m here.” You kneeled in front of him. His eyes were injected red, he had been crying for quite long.

Slowly, his hand reached out and cupped your cheek, as if to verify that you were indeed real.

Flashes of what had happened invaded you, famine, the town, his hunger for demon blood and the remorse that made his stomach recoil.

“You’re really here? But…” As the images stopped showing, you turned to look at him. He wasn’t having the best night of sleep either.

In a matter of seconds, his arms hugged you close to him; he hugged your waist tight and buried his face in your chest. He cried out, not caring anymore if his sobs were loud or not. You could feel his heavy tears lading on your skin and streaming down their own path.

You placed your hands in his head and buried your fingers in his hair, caressing it softly.

“I did something really bad. I-I just couldn’t resist; the hunger… I feel-I feel really… Everybody always told me. They told me. But I didn’t… I didn’t listen… I-I didn’t feel like there was something wrong with it, until…. I…” You shushed softly at his words.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” His tears continued. Oh,mi pobrecito Sam.

“It’s not your fault, Sammy. This was famine’s doing. You have nothing to do with this. Mi vida, I know you’ll be okay. Not because you’re a hunter or a Winchester. You’re Sam. That’s what matters. You decide who you want to be. Don’t ever let them tell you who you are. Mandalos a chingar a su madre.” You ran your fingernails lightly through his hair and neck. He stopped sobbing, a signal that he was listening to you.

You took his chin in both your hands and lifted it up so you could look at his face. He had that puppy face on; it crushed your heart to see his face all stained with tears and puffed eyes, a big frown and a trembling lip.

You passed your thumb softly through his brow, to which he closed his eyes, relaxing slightly at the touch.

“You’re too pretty to frown, mi corazón.” He didn’t laugh or smile, yet the atmosphere of the situation felt less chaotic and overwhelming, like a sea storm that slowly calms away. And he didn’t ask, he just relaxed at your ever tranquil touch, but you started singing as you cupped his cheeks and brushed away the remaining tears.

“Estoy buscando una palabra en el umbral de tu misterio. ¿Quién fuera Alibabá? ¡Quién fuera el mítico Simbad? ¿Quién fuera un poderoso sortilegio? ¿Quién fuera encantador? Corazón, corazón, oscuro. Corazón, corazón con muros. Corazón, que se esconde, corazón, que está donde, corazón, corazón en fuga, herido de dudas de amor.” Your chest started glowing and to Sam’s surprise, his too. In the end, there were no more tears, not even the bittersweet aftertaste of crying, just two people and one sweet kiss. In between that kiss, Sam could swear, he could hear the song, the guitar, in his head. He could swear he could feel the vibrations in his chest and he could swear, for that tiny moment, everything was perfect.

#sam winchester #dean #sam #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #superntaural x reader #sam x reader #sam x reader x dean #dean x reader #piedras rodantes #angst #fluff #flangst

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pengychan · 5 years

Text

[Coco] Mind the Gap, Pt. 9

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.

To see the version with art by Dara, check it out on Ao3.

Tag for all parts up so far.

A/N: Do you know what the sub drop is? No? Neither does Ernesto.

***

“I still have no idea why you insist on going by train.”

I still have no idea why you insist on going at all, is what Ernesto is really thinking. Héctor can tell. There is something gutting about the chasm between them, how the town they grew up in can hold so many fond memories for one of them and only bitterness for the other.

It is true that Héctor doesn’t need to go - he can honor his parents’ memory from here, too - but being there, and visiting their grave… it is different. Plus, there are faces he likes seeing again, from time to time. Unlike Ernesto, he did not cut all ties.

“It’s quicker,” he finally says, answering to the question Ernesto actually voiced. He puts another pair of trousers in the suitcase, and closes it before one of the chihuahuas can jump in. The little dog looks very displeased, and Héctor gives it an apologetic grin before turning back to Ernesto. “Besides, Imelda’s brothers will pick us up at the station.”

“The Bobos?”

“The Bobos.”

“In a car.”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t sound safe.”

“It probably isn’t,” Héctor concedes. “I think they have one license between the two of them.”

“And not an ounce of common sense. If you die in that hole, I won’t come to your funeral,” Ernesto mutters, but then he hesitates, and looks away. “... Tell your parents I said hi,” he adds, causing Héctor to smile a little. Ernesto was fond on them; their door had always been open to their son’s best friend, a home away from home when his own place got rowdy.

He remembers, distantly, a few times Ernesto actually referred to his mother as Tía Emilia. The memory causes something to grip his throat, tightly.

“I’ll make sure to tell them you’d come, too, if being anywhere near Santa Cecilia didn’t make you break out in hives,” he says in the end, and raises an eyebrow. Ernesto is standing by the door, leaning against the wall and right by an empty chair. “... Not sitting down?” he asks. Ernesto rolls his eyes, and throws him the closest thing he can grab - namely, a shirt he’d left on the chair. Héctor laughs, the lump in his throat gone. “Hah! But it was worth it. Admit it.”

“Never,” Ernesto says, but his lips are curled in a smile as well. With his clothes on, there is no telling what happened the previous night - and the marks it left on him. But they are there, and the fact Ernesto bears them gladly is… a nice thought, he has to admit.

“Of course it was worth it,” Imelda’s voice comes from the next room over, sounding just a touch smug. She pops her head through the door, her purse in one hand and the train tickets in the other. Her suitcase is already at the entrance. “I’m calling the cab,” she tells Héctor before turning to Ernesto. “I think one of your dogs got stuck in the bathtub. No clue how it got in,” she adds, and reaches up to brush back his hair, which isn’t quite as tidy as usual.

It is a casual gesture, and Ernesto doesn’t seem to think anything of it - no whining about his hair, no surprise. Héctor allows himself a secret grin before smoothing his expression.

“I’m almost done here. Go rescue your dog, we’ll be off soon.”

As Ernesto leaves quickly - they can hear a dog yapping from the bathroom, like it’s actually in some sort of danger - Héctor and Imelda exchange a glance. “He looks fine,” he says.

“I do like him better without his hair all gelled up,” she concedes, and Héctor snorts a laugh.

“Hah! No, I mean-- he seems all right,” he says. To his amusement Imelda rears back, clearly embarrassed by the lapse, before regaining composure.

“Of course he’s all right. We made sure of that,” she says tightly, closing her purse. “We’re good to go,” she adds.

Neither of them can imagine how wrong they are.

***

“... And so he said, ‘please never return’, signed, and we got our driving licence!”

“Well, one of us got a licence.”

“Not telling who.”

“We’re not even sure.”

“Works for both, though.”

“Hey, Imelda, why is Héctor green?”

To be absolutely fair, Imelda thinks, Héctor is not quite green. Green-ish, maybe, by the time Óscar slams the brakes and brings the call to a stop - well, a stall, since he didn’t bother to put down the clutch - in front of their house. They jerk forward before being brought back on their seats by the belts. Clutching his suitcase to his chest for dear life, Héctor lets out a long sigh of relief before he smiles.

“That was-- fun,” he croaks, fake as a three pesos coin.

“You are not driving us back,” Imelda says, throwing the door open, and for a moment before she regains her balance she almost stumbles back. God, it feels like she went through a round or two in a washing machine. Héctor needs to lean on the car a little, but it looks like he won’t, after all, hurl his guts. Which is good, really: last thing she needs now is having to deal with her parents after her husband greets them by throwing up on their doorstep.

“Imelda!” As though summoned at the door by the screech of slamming brakes - Imelda thinks she can smell something burning - her mother is suddenly there, throwing her arms around her. “It’s good to see you, mija. How was the journey?”

“It was fine,” she says, deciding to bring up her concerns over her brothers driving anything at all, be it a car or a bike, later. “Where’s papá?”

“He went to the parish to make sure everything is ready for Emila and Ricardo’s function,” she says. “It will be tomorrow at ten.”

Of course, the function in their memory is what they’re there for; tomorrow will be the tenth anniversary of their death. Imelda glances back - Héctor has recovered enough to open the booth and pull out her luggage, too - before speaking quietly.

“Thanks for organising it. I brought some money, as an offering,” she says. It is not mandatory to give the parish money for the memorial service, but of course it’s expected.

As a response, her mother shakes her head. “No need. Your father will take care of it.”

Imelda frowns, and lifts her chin. “We can afford--” she begins, a defensive note to her voice, but her mother holds up a hand.

“We know you can. It’s just… a gift from our part. Emilia and Ricardo were our friends, too.”

Oh, Imelda thinks. Right. She is so used to expect seeing her choices and achievements dismissed or played down, maybe she gets defensive too quickly. To be fair, her parents did get better. Maybe it is time she starts to accept something from them without feeling like it means having to swallow her pride. “... Of course,” she says, and smiles. “Gracias.”

“De nada. Oh, Héctor! Here you are! You’re looking good, considering that Felipe drove.”

“I think it was Óscar,” Héctor laugs, and gives her a hug. “You look good, Milagros.”

“Oh, flatterer,” she mutters, giving his cheek a light smack before pulling back. She looks at them both. “You two are much too thin. Come in, I have only three days to get you to eat…”

Imelda bites back a retort - I cook plenty, too - and just follows her inside. Annoyance fades quickly at the familiar sights and smells; at Héctor’s obvious joy to be there and her mother’s pride when he samples her cooking and declares it to be ‘delicious as always, mamá Milagros’. It doesn’t take long for her to smile along, too.

It’s good to be home.

***

Ernesto is fine.

All right, so he can’t sit down. He can definitely feel the welts on his ass and lower back and the back of his thighs, he can feel the bruises and the soreness in his back, but… he is fine. Better than fine.

Before falling asleep the previous night - so sore and sated, so exhausted and satisfied, wrapped in a towel and resting between two warm bodies - Ernesto thought briefly that morning would bring a price to pay. Embarrassment, for sure, maybe some sort of mockery.

He was wrong. Embarrassment failed to make an appearance, and so did mockery. He awakened to the smell of coffee, alone on the bed, to be treated to breakfast on a tray less than a minute later. His stomach grumbling, he ate quickly and even enjoyed the small talk about the weather and the trip ahead; even the thought of Santa Cecilia failed to sour his mood.

All right, so there was a tug of something in his chest as Héctor and Imelda prepared to leave-- without me --for their hometown, but it was easily dismissed.

They will be back soon, and he is fine.

***

“Hola, mamá. Papá. I, uh, brought flowers. I sat on them, sorry about that, but they’re still good - just need some water. We’re holding the function tomorrow, but I figured I’d… come say hi first.”

There is no answer, of course, but… well, it would be pretty worrying if there were any. As he fills up the vase, Héctor glances around. There are a few other visitors to the Santa Cecilia cemetery, but most are well away, and no one can hear him talking to the grave. Even if they could, he he doubts anyone would mind. A lot of people do that.

“Bet this place isn’t going to be so empty next time I visit,” Héctor says, placing down the vase and putting the flowers in. Every year, on Día de los Muertos, the whole place is brimming with people, flowers, candles and offerings. “I’ll get you the usual - oh, and I learned how to make Pan Dulce! Without help. Well, minimal help. It’s good, honest. I’ll get you some so you can try it out.”

The flowers sorted, he sits cross-legged in front of the grave and picks at some weeds that had the audacity to try growing right below the marble headstone. He glances at the single picture on it - his parents, in each other’s arms and smiling at the camera.

It was taken only a few weeks after his mother had found out she was pregnant, or so he recalls being told. They always wanted a big family, but that hadn’t happened: it had taken years of trying for Héctor to be born, and then there had were no others.

“It’s all right, mamá,” Héctor remembers saying once, when he’d realized his excited talk about a classmate’s baby sister saddened her. “I don’t need want one, anyway.”

“He’s already got me, Señora,” Ernesto, then ten years old, had declared. I made her mother laugh, and ruffle both of their hair. Héctor often huffed when she did, but he never really minded. He would give anything now for her to be able to do that again.

He runs his hand through his hair, trying to pretend it’s her touch, and glances at his papá's smiling face. “Looking good, both of you,” he finally tells the photo. It is one of the very few ones that escaped the complete destruction of their home, when a leaking gas pipe and a spark destroyed everything within seconds.

“It must have been quick,” someone - old Prospero, maybe? - told him, in a clumsy but well-meaning attempt to make him feel better. “They were gone before they knew it.”

It is a vague memory; looking back that entire week was shrouded in fog. He recalls being in the next town over with Ernesto for a gig when his phone had rung, only minutes before stepping on stage.

“You need to come back now. There has been an… an accident.”

From that moment on, there are only flashes. His phone hitting the ground, the way the room spun around him, Ernesto grasping his shoulders and asking what was wrong; the drive back to Santa Cecilia, with Ernesto pushing his father’s old car to the limit; the smoke in the distance where his house used to stand; the crowd of people in the street when the car came to a screeching halt, several hands reaching out for him, to hold him back, keep him away.

He doesn’t remember screaming but he must have, because his throat was sore for days; he could still hardly speak on the day of the funeral, as he stood before the black caskets, Ernesto’s arm around his shoulders. He remebers, vaguely, Imelda's hand squeezing his own - but they weren't that close, then. It was Ernesto to organize everything; Héctor had been so lost, so numb, entirely useless. If not for him… who knows where he’d even be now, a decade on.

Still wandering in that thick fog, maybe, hardly remembering how to breathe.

“Ernesto says hi,” Héctor says, and smiles. “He couldn’t come - you know how things are with his family - but I know he still misses you. He still has that moño charro you gifted him, papá, he wears it on the great occasions. Speaking of which, we’re probably going to get a record deal, you know? We’ve come so far, I bet you’d be--” proud “--Amazed. A lot of things happened since my last visit, and...er…”

All right. Maybe let’s… not tell them all of it.

“... Well, things are going well,” he finishes with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, and Imelda’s business has really picked up! I wish you had time to know her. I mean, you knew her, but-- really know her. She’s amazing and I am so lucky-- I wish you were there when--” his voice breaks and ay, maybe it wasn’t a good idea, insisting to visit them alone. With a sniffle, goes to wipe his eyes… only that he can’t. Something is holding his arm back, like he got his sleeve caught in something. “Wha--”

“Ruff!”

“... Huh. And how long have you been here?”

The hairless dog - a Xolo, not just a mangy stray - seems to grin at him through the mouthful of his sleeve, furiously wagging its tail. It makes Héctor laugh.

“Sorry, but I’ve got no snacks to share,” he says, pulling back his arm. The dog lets go of his sleeve and looks at him, tongue hanging almost to the ground, before shaking itself - causing droplets of drool to fly through the air, and that impossibly long tongue to wrap itself halfway around its muzzle.

“Hah! Come on, boy - go back home,” Héctor chuckles, knowing he’s probably looking at a stray, and picks up a stick from the ground. He throws it and the dog nearly flies after it, catching it in mid-air and starting to enthusiastically chew it up before even hitting the ground.

Héctor laughs again, feeling a little lighter, the urge to weep gone. He turns back to the grave to fill in his parents on what he’s been up to in the past few months - well, most of it - with a smile back on his face. When he finishes and stands, turning to leave the cemetery and head back, he doesn’t realize the dog is still there, staring at him from among the graves.

***

Maybe he’s… not as fine as he thought he was.

It is a thought Ernesto has been trying to chase away for a good few hours - trying to ignore the tightness in his chest, the shortness of breath despite just being out to walk his dogs at a leisure pace, a knot in his stomach that seems to be getting tighter and tighter... and, most of all, a growing sense of dread that is all the more frightening as it is senseless.

This is stupid. He’s fine. There is no reason to feel like this, none whatsoever.

“I must be coming down with something,” he mutters to no one in particular, reaching up to rub his forehead as he walks through the entrance and towards his apartment, the dogs yapping and pulling. Yes, that must be it. He’ll get in bed and sleep it off, and then--

“Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, did you know that?”

Oh, no. Not the old guy. With a snarl, Ernesto tears his hand off his forehead to glare. Old Chicharrón, who seems to like Héctor for some reason and dislike him intensely for some other reason Ernesto cannot begin to imagine, is standing on the stairs, glaring at him and at his dogs. He’s always been a grumpy pain in the ass, but he’s become even worse since Ernesto has taken in the chihuahuas, complaining endlessly about their yapping and clearly not realizing his grumbling is a lot more annoying than any noise a dog could make.

“Mind your own business,” he says… or at least, he tries to. The moment he tries to speak his voice is suddenly stuck in his throat, his chest is tight and-- why-- why is he glaring at him like that, like he did something wrong?

Because you did. You did everything wrong. Look at you, look what you let them do to you, and where are they now? They’re probably laughing at you, you know that?

“I--” Ernesto croaks, but he cannot force words out and oh, Christ, his eyes are burning.

Maybe he knows. He heard you, or they told him - told everyone. Half of Santa Cecilia is having a laugh at your expenses right now. Just wait until your parents get word of it. They won’t even be surprised, your old man was right about you. You’re a stain. Worthless. Did you really think a passable voice would make any difference? Change anyone’s minds?

“What, cat got your tongue?” the old man scoffs, and he seems about to add something, then he pauses and blinks. “Huh. You’re... not looking good. Drank too much again?”

No, no, no. What’s happening to me?

The dread gripping his throat turns into something close to panic because he can tell he’s about to cry and that is not, under any circumstances, happening in front of this cabrón. So Ernesto does the only thing he can do: he scoffs, lowers his head - he can’t look him in the eye, he will break if he does, like he could read what he let them do to him on his face and he’s never felt so ashamed before - and marches past the old man like an angry bull, almost knocking him over.

There are yells, but he hardly hears a word. He throws his door open, storms in, yanks his dogs’ leads to get them inside as well, slams the door shut… and then he freezes as the chihuahuas yelp. He looks down to see they’re huddled together, whining, cowering. They are so tiny, just how hard did he yank them?

“No,” he chokes out. “Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t-- didn’t mean--” he babbles, and that’s it. His voice breaks, his knees fail, and he sinks on the ground with his back to the door, crying his eyes out for no reason whatsoever. It’s infuriating and humiliating and confusing, and he cannot stop. He sits back, and the sting of the welts and bruises makes him weep harder, no matter how dulled it is. He hates it. He hates himself for allowing it.

“Lo siento,” he manages, and the dogs are all over him in moment, whining and pawing and trying to lick his face. He holds them close, breath itching, and slowly quiets down - telling himself that he’s fine, once he stops weeping he’ll be all better.

But he isn’t.

***

It takes Héctor a very conscious effort not to bawl before, during, and after the function.

Not so much because of the function itself - although Padre Edmundo said several unexpected heartfelt things, a welcomed break from the usual droning - but because of the sheer amount of people who showed up: old childhood friends, friends of his parents, people they just used to buy their groceries from. They're ten years dead, without relatives other than him, and the church is packed for them.

By the time he’s done shaking hands and giving his thanks to everyone as the church empties, Héctor is feeling a little light-headed; the steadiness of Imelda’s hand on his back is all that keeps him grounded.

“They sure are missed, huh?” he murmurs as they walk down the steps, finally alone.

Imelda smiles, and takes his hand. “Very much,” she says softly. “Do you want to visit--”

“... Héctor?”

The voice is one Héctor hasn’t heard in years, but he immediately recognizes it and can feel the the faint smile freezing on his lips. Barely aware of Imelda’s perplexed gaze, he makes an effort to smooth his expression before turning.

Ernesto’s mother looks… older than last time he’s seen her, and by more a few years; it’s as though a decade or more was dropped on her shoulders. No only because there is more gray in her hair, deeper wrinkles around her eyes: there is something else, too, something hollow and desperate on her face as she stares at him.

“Señora de la Cruz,” he finds himself saying, his mouth dry. He hadn't seen her during the function. “This is a, er… you look good.”

What crosses her features is not a smile, but a rather brave attempt at one. “It’s good to see you. You too, Imelda,” she adds. Imelda, who doesn’t know Adela as well as Héctor does - who knows next to nothing of her past the fact Ernesto has cut her out of his life - makes an effort to smile back, but pity is painfully obvious in her gaze… even more so when Adela speaks again.

“How… How’s Ernesto?” Her voice shakes a little, and there is so much desperate love in the way she speaks his name alone that it makes Héctor’s heart ache.

“He-- he’s fine,” he finds himself saying, hoping for the ground to swallow him up, praying that she won’t ask him to tell her where he is, how to reach him. He promised Ernesto he would never tell either of his parents, if he met them, and he will keep that promise but ay, it would hurt. “We’ve had a few concerts, and… more are planned. Possibly a contract with a record company. It’s going well.”

For just a moment, her smile seems real; it makes the desperation when she speaks again all the more painful. “That’s… that’s good. It’s what he always wanted,” she manages. “Can you tell him that we’re-- if, if he’d listen...”

“Señora de la Cruz--” Héctor begins, only to trail off when she pauses and reaches up to press a hand on her mouth, struggling to maintain composure. He is vaguely aware of Imelda’s fixed gaze, of the thin line of her mouth; he knows this has to look really, really bad in her eyes. She doesn’t know why Ernesto has cut his parents off, and he… he cannot tell her. He promised his best friend he wouldn’t tell.

“My apologies,” Adela finally says, and draws in a deep breath before reaching into her purse and pulling something out - a sealed envelope. “I know he doesn’t want to speak to us. But if you could give him this, I-- we’d be so grateful.”

We. Her husband, too? It’s hard, to imagine that man anywhere near grateful, but it is not the moment to argue. Héctor swallows a lump in his throat. “Of course,” he says, and he really wants to add something reassuring, but he doesn’t know what to say. So in the end he just nods awkwardly, and takes the letter. “I’ll give it to him as soon as we go back.”

“Thank you,” she chokes out, and nods. “God bless you,” she adds before walking away quickly, before she can cry - so that if she does cry, it will be in private. Héctor watches her leave, his heart like lead in his chest, and glances at Imelda. Her gaze is hard as stone.

“I know this looks bad, but--”

“You don’t need to make excuses for him, and I don’t need to hear them,” she cuts him off, and that is all; she doesn’t bring the encounter up again, doesn’t ask any more questions. It is a relief, because he wouldn’t be able to answer… but at the same time he hates seeing that harshness in her eyes, even though it’s not for him.

For the rest of the stay, the letter stays in his coat’s pocket, and it seems to burn.

***

This is bad. This makes no sense. And, Jesus Christ, it hurts - something’s been hurting for two days and he has no idea why. He hates it. He hates himself.

Burrowed under the blankets, he feels as though he’s drowning in fog. With his TV going in the background and four dogs curled up against him, Ernesto squeezes his eyes shut and refuses, refuses to weep. He’s holding his cell phone in one hand, and part of him really wants to use it to call Héctor and Imelda, tell them something is wrong - something is horribly wrong, he needs them to get back, he needs them there, why have they left him alone?

But he doesn’t. He hurts but he’s also so, so ashamed. The mere idea of mockery-- of course they’ll mock me after what happened, after what I let them do --makes him feel even worse, like he could shatter if he just hears their voices. In the end he throws the phone away, and curls up tighter. He just needs to sleep it off, he tells himself. He feels so empty and drained, surely sleep will come quickly if he just waits long enough.

But it doesn’t. He lays awake for what feels like a very long time, until his dogs are whining so loudly, so hungry, and he forces himself to sit upright on the couch to get up.

And, suddenly, the doorbell rings.

***

It’s fair to say Héctor has seen Ernesto looking a complete mess several times. It usually involves alcohol aside from the one occasion they never talk about, when he showed at his door sullen and bruised to ask if he could stay for the night.

Héctor thought that was the worst he’d ever see him; then he thought his near-breakdown at the vet's was it. Now, as the door opens to reveal a pale wreck of a man where his friend should be, he knows he was wrong.

“E-Ernesto?” he croaks, otherwise speechless. He doesn’t really want to say it out loud because he knows Ernesto would take it the wrong way, but he does look… pretty awful, really. It’s as though he hasn’t slept a minute since Friday, his skin an unhealthy ashen color, cheeks covered in stubble and hair unkempt. But his gaze is the worst thing, glassy and distant and haunted.

“What do you want?” Ernesto asks, and even the voice sounds wrong, so horribly hollow.

“I, uh… is. Is everything all right?” Héctor dares, gaining himself another sullen look.

“Yes,” he drones, avoiding his gaze. It’s as though he’s staring at something above Héctor’s right shoulder. “What do you want?”

“I… we, uh, were in Santa Cecilia--”

“I know,” Ernesto says coldly, and suddenly his eyes are on him, and he looks… angry is a strong word, but not pleased, either. When he speaks again, there is an accusing note to his voice. “Went off for the weekend and left me here.”

All right, so something is very wrong. Ernesto will occasional pout whenever he feels he’s being ignored, but this? This is too much. “Ernesto, what happened? You look--”

“I’m fine. Tell me what you want.”

Héctor hesitates a moment before he takes the sealed envelope from his pocket and hands it over to him. “We, uhm. We met your mother. She asked me to give you this,” he adds.

For several moments, Ernesto says nothing. He stares at the envelope in Héctor’s hands as though he’s handing him a live snake, and it is then that Héctor notices something else: his friend’s hands are shaking. “Madre de Dios, Ernesto, what--”

“Is this a joke?” His voice is like the crack of a whip, and it causes Héctor to trail off, wincing. Ernesto is staring at him with sudden fury, and his shaky hands clench into fists. “You know I never wanted to have anything to do with either of them!”

“I know, but she pleaded--”

“I don't care what she said! You promised me, Héctor!”

“I didn’t tell her anything! Not where you live, not your number. I only took the letter for you, but if you don’t want to open it, that’s fine - we'll just throw it away and--”

“You don’t give a damn, do you? You never gave a damn,” Ernesto snaps, and he takes an unsteady step forward, causing Héctor to back off. The door slams shut over the dogs’ frantic barking.

Something’s wrong. This isn’t right. He’s not well.

“Ernesto? Amigo, you’re not…” Héctor manages, taking another step back, and suddenly his back is against the wall, and there is nowhere he can go. Confusion begins to give way to fear - for the very first time, he is afraid of his best friend. “You need to--”

“I needed you, all right?” Ernesto cuts him off, and his features twist in a pained expression. “You and that… and her, and… you left me here, you never--”

“Enough.” Imelda’s voice causes him to trail off. She took the elevator to get home with the luggages as he went to Ernesto's door, but she must have heard the commotion and suddenly she’s between them. One shove and Ernesto is stumbling back, her hand is gripping Héctor’s own, and she’s getting him out of the corner Ernesto had driven him to, to the stairs leading up to their apartment.

No, wait. Something’s wrong with Ernesto. We can’t leave him like this, Héctor thinks.

He almost says as much, but Imelda speaks first. “Look at you, you’re a mess,” she snaps, her voice cold. “Sort yourself out, for God’s sake. Pretend you’re an adult.”

For a moment, Ernesto looks hurt before he scowls again. “You left--”

“For three days, yes,” Imelda cuts him off. “We had a lovely time and we’re not going to let your stupid drama sour it. Whatever your problem is, and whatever reason you think you have not to speak to that poor soul unfortunate enough to be your mother--”

“Imelda…”

“You know nothing, you--”

“-- It’s none of our business,” Imelda snaps, ignoring both of them. Her grip on Héctor’s hand is warm, tight, protective. She turns to leave. “Grow up.”

It’s far from the worst thing Imelda has said to him, but somehow it seems to hit him harder than anything ever has. Under Héctor’s stunned gaze Ernesto takes a staggering step back, his shoulders hunch as though a weight was suddenly dropped on him, features twisting.

“Wait,” he chokes out. Suddenly there are tears in his voice, and Imelda stops in her tracks, letting go of Héctor’s hand in her surprise. With both of their gazes on him, Ernesto seems to crumble: his back hits the wall, his knees give in, and then he’s on the ground. He burrows his face in his hands, lets out a keening noise. “Por favor.”

Héctor doesn’t remember moving, but the next moment he’s kneeling next to him, passing an arm over his shoulders. Ernesto is shaking and cold, he presses his face against his shirt and Héctor’s never seen him like this. It terrifies him, but he tries not to let it show.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. We’re going nowhere,” he says, and looks up at Imelda.

She’s staring at Ernesto, and her expression has gone from stunned to attentive, and then - just as Ernesto mumbles that something hurts, it really hurts, what’s happening to me - Héctor sees realization dawning in. Whatever is wrong with him, she seems to have an idea of what it is. “... Ernesto,” she calls out, crouching down as well, and puts a hand on his arm. Suddenly her voice is gentle, and her touch is light. “Come home with us. It will be fine.”

There is a sharp intake of breath, a shake of his head. “No. It won’t.”

“It isn’t going to last.”

“I’m going loco.”

“Nonsense. You just need to ride it out. It won’t-- Ernesto, look at me,” Imelda says, and grabs his chin to make him do just that. Her voice is firmer. “It won’t last. It’s just the drop.”

That causes Héctor to blink in confusion. Drop? What dro-- oh. Oh. Realization hits him suddenly, and he feels very, very stupid… and very guilty as well. They’ve given Ernesto aftercare on Friday, and he seemed fine, but he should have known this could happen. They hadn’t thought for a moment it would, not to Ernesto of all people… and they left him alone to deal with it.

“You need a bath,” Imelda is speaking again, practical as always. They help Ernesto on his feet and while it’s him he leans on he’s hanging to Imelda’s words, eyes wide. Héctor has never seen him this vulnerable, not even as kids. “And to eat, when was last time you ate?”

He blinks. “I… yesterday. I think.”

“Well, that won’t do at all. Come. Mind the steps, last thing you need is a literal drop…”

In the end, the letter from Ernesto’s mother goes back in Héctor’s pocket, and doesn’t come out for the rest of the evening. They get him into a hot bath and Héctor helps by washing his back and hair before he lends him his bathrobe. They give him a hot meal Imelda somehow put together in less than fifteen minutes, and Héctor manages to get him to have half a bar of dark chocolate too, as well as glass after glass of water.

Ernesto goes through the motions with hardly a word and without looking at them, so meek and quiet it’s more than slightly unsettling, but at least now Héctor knows what’s causing this and he knows that Imelda is right - it won’t last. He just needs a bit of help as he recovers, that is all, until the adrenaline and endorphin go back to normal levels again.

Imelda explains him as much, tells him all about the drop, what causes it, how it’s not going to last. “You’ll be fine. Give it another day or two. You’ll stay with us meanwhile,” she says.

Ernesto listens, nods and says nothing, but he seems calmer and eventually settles down on their couch, a blanket around him, glancing listlessly at the TV. The dogs - Héctor brought them upstairs after a quick toilet break - are curled up on his lap, and it seems to help.

Héctor and Imelda settle down as well, at either side of him. Héctor passes an arm over his shoulders, and Imelda lets Ernesto lean on her - and takes his hand hand when he reaches out. She rubs her thumb over his palm in slow circular motions while Héctor runs his hand through damp hair and talks about a song he’s thinking of writing, about how much he needs a new guitar case, about their next performance in a couple of weeks, about the weather, about anything that crosses his mind. And finally, he can feel Ernesto beginning to relax.

He sighs and leans on him, his hand still in Imelda’s own. “Héctor, what I said--”

“It’s all right, amigo. Just rest.”

“I didn’t mean--”

“Sleep,” Imelda chides him, reaching to brush some hair out of his eyes with her free hand. There is another sigh, and Ernesto finally closes his eyes. Héctor and Imelda exchange a glance over him, and Imelda smiles a bit. He’ll be fine, she mouths, and Héctor smiles back.

Yes. He’ll be fine, and they will stay right there to make sure of it.

***

[Back to Part 8]

[On to Part 10]

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

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bcdrawsandwrites · 5 years

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Neither Can You Rating: T Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family Characters: Héctor, Ernesto, Imelda, Coco, Julio, Pepita, Dante, Miguel, Óscar, Felipe, Victoria, Rosita… possibly others. Warnings: Violence, broken bones Description: “Do you care about your familia… more than your music?” Héctor didn’t have to think twice to answer yes. But the grin on Ernesto’s face sent a chill down his spine as the man continued, “Are you willing to put that to the test?” View all chapters here! FFN Link | AO3 Link | dA Link

Chapter 16: The Statement Summary: In which Dante's actions have consequences, and Héctor must say something... so to speak.

The sun was just barely starting to rise as Rosita made her way back home, basket full of pan dulce in hand. Up ahead, Pepita paused in her hurried steps to look back at her, wings and tail twitching in agitation.

“Is everything all right, Pepita?” she asked, looking up at the cat in concern.

Pepita only hurried on ahead, and Rosita did her best to keep up.

The alebrije had been like this all morning, insisting on following her as she made a quick trip into town. A few times she’d even prevented her from taking certain streets, lying down obstinately in the middle of the sidewalk. Rosita couldn’t understand it—she’d only gone out to get a treat for everyone, as she usually did when everyone was stressed out, but Pepita was acting like it was quite the dangerous undertaking.

Whatever the case was, Rosita was not going to argue with a giant winged jaguar.

While nothing seemed out of place when they reached the hacienda, Pepita was no less agitated, hurriedly taking her spot in the yard and standing next to the house like a watchdog. Rosita reached into her basket, pulling out an alebrije treat she’d purchased and holding it out to the cat. Pepita perked up, stooping down to sniff at the colorful fish-shaped treat before taking it into her mouth in one gentle bite. Finally she let out a short purr, and Rosita smiled.

As she expected, Victoria was already up, having fixed a pot of coffee. “Buenas dias, Victoria!” Rosita said as she set the basket of pastries down. “Were you up late again last night?”

“A bit,” Victoria mumbled, reaching out to grab a chocolate concha. “I was just thinking.”

“You could always do your thinking during the day instead. Nothing to do about it now, though... When you’re done with that, would you like to help me with breakfast?”

“Sí.”

The next hour or so passed by quickly as the others made their way downstairs: first the twins, who were passing a sketchbook back and forth, and then Coco and Julio, the latter looking like he had had a harder time sleeping than his wife. Strangely, Imelda did not come downstairs with any of the others.

“Is Mamá not up yet?” Coco asked, looking around the dining room and then back up the stairs.

“I haven’t seen her,” Victoria answered from the kitchen. “She could use the extra rest, though.”

Rosita couldn’t argue with that. She stepped out into the dining room, looking around for a certain alebrije. “What about Dante? I bought a treat for him.”

“I let him out late last night. He probably went back to Miguel.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Digging through the basket, she found the bone-shaped alebrije treat she’d picked out for the dog and took it into the kitchen. As she did so, however, she felt a strange tug of worry. “Pepita seemed anxious this morning. Do you think something could have happened to Dante?”

“Oh, something definitely happened to Dante,” Óscar said, glancing up from his sketchbook.

“He probably chased a chicken alebrije halfway across town,” Felipe said, reaching over to write something on the paper.

“Or he got himself stuck in a fake tree.”

“Or ran into a wall.”

“Or—”

Julio cleared his throat. “Dante is an alebrije. I’m sure he’s fine, hermana.”

Before she could say anything else, the stairs creaked with the sound of unsteady footfalls. The family exchanged glances before quickly realizing what that meant, and craned their necks toward the stairs. Sure enough, Imelda and Héctor were slowly making their way downstairs, Héctor with his good arm thrown over Imelda’s shoulders and Imelda with her arm over his shoulders as she helped him limp down. They were both focused on the task (not an easy one with Héctor’s injured leg), but the second they reached the floor, everyone quickly went back to whatever they had been doing before, as though they hadn’t just been staring.

Well, everyone but Rosita, anyway. “So good to see you, Papá Héctor!” she said. Her smile wavered when he flinched, but returned when he gave a shaky smile back. “Did you sleep well?”

Héctor waved his hand in an uncertain gesture.

“Está bien. You’ll have all day today to rest up—”

“After we get back from the police station,” Imelda cut in, and Héctor glanced away. She squeezed his upper arm in return. “But she is right, Héctor. This won’t take long, and then you can take it easy.”

The gentle gesture did not go unnoticed, and Rosita and Coco exchanged knowing, delighted glances. Any bit of progress between those two was good!

“Sit down,” Rosita implored. “We have breakfast ready, and coffee, and I bought everyone’s favorite pan dulce.”

“Very well, but we won’t be too long,” Imelda replied, helping Héctor over to the table. “We’d like to get to the police station early. Best to get this over with as soon as possible.”

As expected, Héctor ate very little food, seeming to have trouble with swallowing. It hurt Rosita’s throat even to watch, but she refilled his coffee mug, hoping that the warm drink and the caffeine would be enough to help him this morning. He had a difficult task ahead, and it would be even more difficult on an empty stomach… so to speak.

While Rosita and Coco chatted a little, breakfast was oddly quiet, with the twins absorbed in their work, Victoria and Imelda lost in their thoughts, and Héctor and Julio seeming focused on staying awake. At one point Rosita thought she heard her brother whispering something to Héctor, but decided it wouldn’t be best to pry.

The relative silence, however, was suddenly broken by a low growling from outside. Héctor tensed up, and Imelda twisted herself around to look at the door. “Pepita?” she murmured.

“She was very tense this morning... I’m not sure why,” Rosita remarked. “She followed me all the way to the pasteleria and back.”

Héctor and Julio exchanged fearful glances, but Rosita laughed. “Oh, you two. You know she wouldn’t attack one of us.”

“Whatever the problem is,” Imelda said, stepping away from the table to open the door, “we can figure it out after we’ve—” And she jerked back in surprise to see a police officer standing at their doorstep. His hand was outstretched as though he were just about to knock at the door, and Pepita was looming behind him.

The man looked just as surprised as Imelda did, but quickly recovered, glancing down at the notepad he carried. “¿Rivera Familia de Zapateros?”

The rest of the family slowly began to gather behind Imelda, aside from Héctor, who stayed rooted at the table, and Julio, who stood near Héctor, watching the officer from a distance.

“Sí,” Imelda answered, crossing her arms. “We’re closed on Sundays.”

Undeterred, the officer flipped to another page on his notepad. “Are any of you in ownership of a winged canine alebrije?”

Rosita’s ribcage tightened. “Dante?” she whispered.

“...We are,” Victoria said, eying the police officer cautiously. “What’s this about?”

“We received a report early this morning that an alebrije matching the description broke into an apartment, caused extensive damage, and attacked no less than two people.”

“What?!” Felipe cried.

“That doesn’t sound like our alebrije!” Óscar went on.

Wringing her hands, Rosita stepped forward. “There must be some mistake... Dante is a good dog. He wouldn’t—”

“Dante?” The man looked up at her, brow furrowing, and dug into his pocket, pulling out a thin blue object. “This was found in the apartment after the alebrije escaped.”

When he held it out for them to see, the family collectively gasped. It was indeed a torn blue dog collar, with a tag reading “DANTE — RIVERA FAMILIA DE ZAPATEROS” still dangling from it.

Pepita let out another low growl behind the officer, while Rosita covered her mouth in horror. “Oh, no!”

“But he was just helping Papá last night,” Coco said, glancing back at Héctor. Rosita followed her gaze, alarmed to see that Héctor was breathing quickly. Without another word, the two of them hurried to his side, Coco placing a hand on his shoulder and Rosita taking a seat next to him.

“Tranquilo, Papá Héctor,” she said, stealing a glance back at the front door. “Mamá Imelda will get this sorted out.”

“This can’t be right!” Imelda snatched the collar away, examining it. “Dante is not a violent alebrije by any means. An idiot, to be sure, but not violent.”

“She’s right.”

“He wouldn’t attack someone unprovoked.”

“An alebrije should not be attacking anyone, except when it is directly defending its owner,” the officer said, growing more firm. “Unless any of you were present at an apartment building two towers away from here last night, and you were being threatened, your alebrije had no cause to attack any person. Were any of you there?”

Imelda’s eyes narrowed, her grip tightening around the collar. “No.”

“The apartment owner claims they were attacked unprovoked. The xolo alebrije chased another alebrije into their apartment and then proceeded to attack the owner. Others witnessed the attack as well.”

Rosita couldn’t help herself, sitting up straight in her chair. “Is—is he all right?” Part of her wanted to walk back to the officer, but she didn’t want to leave Héctor, who looked to be in the middle of a mild panic attack. “Where is he now?”

“The alebrije fled the scene, jumping out the window,” the officer answered, jotting something down in his notepad. “We have several officers searching for him now.”

“What will happen when he is found?” Imelda asked, looking at the officer again.

“He’ll need to be quarantined for at least a week, during which he will need to stay within your property at all times. If he is found outside of this property during the quarantine period, we will need to take action.” Before anyone could ask just what that “action” entailed, he turned to another page in his notebook. “And right now, you will be required to pay for the damages done to the victim’s property as soon as possible.”

“And who is this victim?” Victoria asked, crossing her arms.

“The afflicted party wishes to remain anonymous.” Clicking his pen, the officer looked back up at Imelda. “Now, regarding the damages...”

While Imelda talked with the officer about working out a payment, Rosita looked back to Julio, Coco, and Héctor. Coco was leaning into her papá, wrapping her arm around him, while Julio whispered something to him. She had to admit, she didn’t expect to see Julio talking with Héctor much, given how uneasy he’d been around his father-in-law these past couple months, but she wasn’t going to complain.

“Papá, can you hear me?” Coco asked, and Héctor gave a short nod. “Are you worried about Dante?”

Héctor nodded again, shutting his eyes.

“I think he’ll be all right.” Rosita patted Héctor gently on the shoulder. “We’ll just have to find him and keep an eye on him for a while. Oh, poor Miguelito, though...” The thought of him not being able to see his pet for a week, without knowing where he was, and without being able to send messages back to them, was an upsetting one.

“Don’t worry about it, though, Héctor,” Julio said quickly, and Héctor looked up at him. “We’ll take care of this stuff with Dante. You... you need to just focus on your statement.”

“He’s right,” Coco affirmed. “We’ll figure out what happened with Dante. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Héctor gave Coco a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, giving Rosita the feeling that he didn’t quite believe them.

Even so, Rosita nodded. “Dante will be all right, Papá Héctor. You just worry about yourself right now.”

Gracias, he mouthed in response, looking down at the floor.

It was several more minutes as Imelda worked out more details with the police officer, but eventually she finished. The officer left the hacienda, Pepita growling at him the entire way, and Imelda turned around to face the others once more. “Well, you heard what he said. If we find Dante, he has to stay on our property for a week. I want you all to keep an eye out for him wherever you go, and bring him home as soon as you find him.”

“Sí, Mamá Imelda,” Victoria said quietly, still staring out after the police officer.

“As for us...” Imelda approached Héctor, laying a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. “We do need to get going. Are you ready, Héctor?”

Shuddering, Héctor looked up at her and waved his one good hand in an uncertain gesture, giving a shaky grin.

“Well, you won’t feel any more ready if we waste time around here.” Reaching down, she helped Héctor up, letting him lean on her as he limped toward the door.

“Good luck, Papá Héctor!” Rosita called after him. “You’ll be fine! Just tell them what you need to and you’ll be home before you know it.”

Héctor swallowed and tried to give her a smile, and finally they were gone, Imelda shutting the door behind them. Shortly after, they could hear Pepita taking to the skies.

Looking out the window, Rosita watched them leave, finding herself heaving a deep sigh. She wasn’t one to worry often, but when she did, she didn’t like her worries to be right.

She hoped both Dante and Papá Héctor would return home soon.

Imelda led Héctor toward Pepita, and the alebrije gave a soft, short purr, stepping closer to them. Héctor took an uncertain step back, but Pepita lowered her head and lightly touched the top of her head against Héctor’s side—a much more gentle version of her usual affectionate headbutt.

When Héctor only blinked in bewilderment, Imelda rubbed his arm. “She likes you,” she said, and helped him onto the alebrije’s back.

However, in spite of Pepita’s friendly behavior, Rosita had not been wrong about her. Not entirely wrong, anyway. Imelda could feel the tension in the alebrije’s muscles, and even the vibration of a soft, inaudible growl from within her chest. Pepita was more than tense—she was angry. It may have had something to do with the police officer, or something to do with Dante, but unfortunately she had no way of knowing for sure.

Perhaps they could go looking for Dante later on, but this needed to be taken care of first. Making sure she had a good grip on Héctor, Imelda nudged Pepita’s sides with her heels. “We’re going to the police station, Pepita,” she said, and the cat’s muscles coiled beneath her just before she sprung into the air.

Héctor tensed up, gripping a clump of Pepita’s fur with his good hand and ducking his head, and Imelda carefully tightened her grip around him. “I’ve got you, don’t worry,” she called above the wind as they flew.

Even without everything that had just happened with the police officer, the morning had been... strange. She’d woken up and immediately confronted Héctor, who had looked like he’d maybe gotten an hour or so of sleep, if that. When she’d announced that they would be going to the police station this morning, he had been surprisingly compliant, in spite of how stubborn he’d been the day prior. Part of her found it strange, but the other part of her chalked it up to his insomnia and exhaustion making it hard for him to keep fighting.

Hopefully it would be done with after this, and he could finally get some rest.

“Do you know what you’re going to write?” Imelda asked, and Héctor turned his head toward her, more to acknowledge her than to actually look at her. After a moment, he shook his head and lowered it. “You’ll just need to figure it out when we get there. Anything you can tell them will help.”

Héctor wheezed out a sigh, which she felt more than heard. She tried to understand why he was so hesitant to tell them—perhaps it was like how she had avoided music for so long, since it brought her so much pain. But while this would bring him pain, ultimately it would help him, wouldn’t it?

This will be good for him, she told herself, subconsciously pulling him a little closer. The sooner he gets this out of the way, the better.

Pepita’s wings shifted, and they began their descent.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Óscar grumbled, sketching furiously into the book he held. “Dante is hardly violent!”

“Aside from that time he knocked the head off a security guard,” Felipe countered, snatching the sketchbook away and leaving his brother to attempt to draw on thin air for a moment. Frowning at the page, he began to make some of his own adjustments. “No, no, that’s too big, try...”

“He was protecting Miguel, that doesn’t count! And it’s not too big, what are you... oh...”

Coco shook her head at her tíos, turning instead to Julio, who appeared deep in thought. He’d woken up quite tired that morning, but insisted on getting up regardless. She got the feeling he hadn’t had a full night’s sleep, but there were more important matters at hand. “I still can’t believe Dante would do something like that,” she said, and her husband looked up. “Even when Dante caused trouble in the living world, he never hurt anyone. I remember.”

“And he was acting just fine last night,” Julio said, fiddling with his hat. “I wonder...” And he trailed off, rubbing his head in thought.

“Wonder what?” Coco prodded. ”Do you think he had a reason for attacking a stranger?”

“Assuming he attacked them at all.” Frowning, Victoria kept her gaze out the window. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a disgruntled fan of his, trying to knock us down a few pegs.”

“I don’t know, mija,” Julio said, crossing his arms. “Stealing a collar from an alebrije so they can frame him seems, uh... farfetched. I’m wondering if... if he found something.”

Heart leaping, Coco straightened. “You mean with what happened to Papá?”

All eyes in the room turned to Julio, who gave a nervous laugh, ducking partially into his rib cage. “I mean... maybe. Dante is an alebrije... Don’t you think he would understand what’s going on?”

Turning to face her father, Victoria gave him a deadpan look. “Yesterday he flew into a wall trying to reach a door that was in the opposite direction. I don’t think he has enough brain cells to understand something is wrong.”

“I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit, mija,” Coco said. “Your papá is right—Dante is an alebrije.”

With an annoyed hum, Victoria looked out the window again, rubbing her wrist in irritation. It was a gesture that Coco caught immediately, as did Julio. The two exchanged glances before Coco placed her hand on her daughter’s back. “Why don’t we sit in the living room?”

Keeping silent, Victoria complied, following the two into the living room. Julio and Coco sat on the couch, while Victoria remained standing, still holding her arm and not looking at either of the two. When she didn’t talk, Julio was the one to speak up. “¿Qué pasa, mija?”

“We know it’s not about the dog,” Coco added, and Victoria’s frown deepened.

“It’s nothing important,” Victoria grumbled, gazing out the window again.

“You’re never this distracted unless something is bothering you.” Julio patted the seat next to him, knowing it was a futile effort. “Can you tell us what’s wrong?”

When Victoria didn’t immediately answer, Coco had to hold out a hand to keep Julio from standing up and approaching her. Victoria would talk when she was ready.

Sure enough, Victoria stamped her foot, glaring up at the sky through the window. “I don’t understand the point of taking him to the police when we know he won’t talk. All he’s ever going to do is dodge the point!”

Coco’s brows rose in surprise—she hadn’t expected that. “He’s been through a lot, mija. You can’t blame him for not wanting to tell us all the details.”

“But it’s not us he has to tell them to. It’s the police! And if he hasn’t said anything to us, how do we know he’ll say anything to them?”

“Well... we don’t,” Julio admitted, pulling off his hat and tugging on the brim of it. “But he could always surprise us.”

“I doubt it, especially if the police actually say anything to...” Victoria trailed off, then shook herself. “It just seems like a waste of time, and unnecessary stress on Mamá Imelda.”

Chuckling, Coco shook her head. “It would be unnecessary stress on Mamá if Papá did not go to the police. You know she’s been prodding him about getting his statement out.”

“Well, it’s...” Now looking down at the floor, Victoria sighed. “It’s unnecessary stress on him, too.”

Julio raised his brows and glanced at Coco, who returned the look.

Seeming to catch her parent’s expressions, Victoria went on: “And if he is stressed out, it’ll be awful for the rest of us.”

Though she tried to cover for it, Coco knew what her daughter was really saying. “Mija,” she said softly, beckoning her daughter closer. But Victoria remained stubborn, arms crossed tightly and head turned away, so she went on: “You’re allowed to be worried for Papá Héctor.”

“I’m not worried about him. I’m worried he’s going to cause more trouble for this family than he already has, that’s all.”

Coco gave her a knowing smile. “Of course, mija.”

“That perro isn’t much better,” Victoria went on. “It has to be one thing after another, doesn’t it?”

“That’s another thing,” Julio said, returning his hat to his head and staring down at the floor in concentration. “We don’t know they aren’t unrelated. Dante... perhaps he knows something we don’t. Maybe the person he tried to attack is...” He hesitated, tugging his hat down further. “...the one who attacked Héctor.”

Sensing something was wrong, Coco looked at her husband in concern. But he only glanced up at her briefly before reaching over and squeezing her hand—I can’t talk about it right now.

“Even if it isn’t, I’d like to know who it is.” Victoria was once more looking out the window. “I’m rather tired of people making things difficult for our family.”

“The police said the person wished to remain anonymous,” Coco pointed out, rubbing her thumb over Julio’s hand.

“It is strange, though,” Julio said. The other two waited for him to go on, but he remained quiet, squeezing Coco’s hand again.

Something was bothering him, and Coco was absolutely certain it wasn’t the news about Dante, or even Papá going to give his statement. She would have to resist trying to pry it out of him, at least for the time being—like Victoria, he would speak when he was ready. Usually.

“I’m going to go find him!” Rosita’s voice snapped them out if their thoughts, and Julio hopped out of his seat and rushed over to her.

“No, no, hermana, stay here for now,” he said as Coco and Victoria followed him back into the dining room. “Let’s... uh, we should wait until Mamá Imelda and Héctor get back.”

“Papá is right,” Victoria said with a nod. “They may come back with Dante, for all we know.”

“And perhaps they’ll return with news as well,” Coco agreed. “Let’s wait for now.”

Rosita sighed, wringing her hands. “I... I suppose you’re right. I just hope pobrecito Dante is okay.”

“And Papá.” Coco rubbed her wrist as she thought it over. “I hope he’ll be all right.”

“I’m sure he will be, mi amor,” Julio said quietly, taking her hand again. His expression told her he was less sure of himself than his words made him sound. “We’ll... just have to wait.”

“You can do what you like,” Victoria said, sighing as she moved toward the back of the house, toward door to the veranda. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

“It’s not fresh—”

“—in the Land of the Dead,” the twins said, still poring over their sketchbook, resulting in an annoyed “ugh” from the back of the house, followed by the creak of an opening door.

“Should we join her?” Julio asked, and Coco glanced around the room. The twins were still focused on their sketchbook, ignoring the mess of the abandoned breakfast at the table, and Rosita was staring out the window, looking out into the yard as though she expected Dante to come scampering in at any moment.

Victoria probably needed time to herself right now, but Coco knew her sister-in-law wouldn’t do well if she was left to fret over the missing dog. “Rosita,” she said instead, and her sister-in-law glanced back at her. “Would you like some help cleaning up?”

“Oh! Uh, sí. Gracias.”

With that, the three of them got to work on clearing the table, Rosita already looking more relaxed. Coco smiled for a moment, but looked back at Julio, finding her husband still appearing deep in thought. While it had been clear what was bothering both Victoria and Rosita, Julio was mystifying Coco right now. Part of her wanted to question him about it immediately, but not while they were helping Rosita. Even so...

When Julio moved to bring a stack of plates into the kitchen, Coco leaned in close to him. “Is it bothering you that badly?” she whispered, and he froze. “You can talk to me, mi amor.”

Julio grimaced, shaking his head. “L-later,” he whispered back. “I promise I’ll tell you later.”

Nodding, Coco backed away. “Later” could mean after they were done cleaning, or after they heard back from Mamá and Papá.

But if it had anything to do with any of this mess going on—and she was sure it did—”later” was going to be before tonight. She would make sure of that.

The police station loomed in front of them, and his every instinct was screaming for him to get away.

He’d been here before—many, many times before—back when he was still working on his schemes to cross the bridge. More than a few times he’d even been held in a cell (sixty-three times, in fact, if he’d kept his tally marks accurate) for his escapades, including incidents that had nothing to do with Dia de Muertos.

The police were familiar with him. He was familiar with them. The building was familiar. The one cell he’d been held in was familiar. After the first few times, it had ceased being scary.

Until now, when it was suddenly the most terrifying thing he could think of.

Héctor’s legs quit working, his knees locking shortly after Imelda helped him dismount from Pepita. The sudden stop caused Imelda, who had been at his side and helping him walk, to stumble, which subsequently nearly knocked him over.

“Héctor,” she said firmly, without looking back, and his legs moved mechanically, forcing him closer to the last place he wanted to be right now.

I can’t do this, he thought, swallowing as Imelda helped him limp up the steps. Her touch was the only thing that kept him from completely shutting down.

I can’t be here. Yet here he was, being led into the lobby and up to the front desk. He could feel the stares of people on him and lowered his head, not wanting the woman behind the counter to look him in the eye. Was she one of the people in contact with...?

He felt a sick twist in his gut at the thought that Imelda could unknowingly be conversing with one of Ernesto’s friends—one of the people just waiting for him to slip up and say the wrong thing. Or write the wrong thing—whatever they expected him to do.

Maybe they wouldn’t expect him to do anything. Maybe they would see he was in no state to talk (given he literally couldn’t), no state to even discuss nonverbally what had happened to him. They could send him home, and then he could just... never go back. That would be fine with him.

“All right,” the woman behind the counter said, and Héctor blinked, suddenly realizing that she had been talking to Imelda. “I’ll let Officer Heraldez know you’re here, and your husband can give his statement to him.”

A weight sunk deep into Héctor’s middle, and it took all of his strength to remain standing upright. Imelda kept a grip on him, however, and squeezed his shoulder gently. “You can do this, Héctor, and then we can leave. You won’t have to come back.”

Maybe I’ll have to come back... in pieces, when they have to identify what’s left of me after Ernesto’s goons catch me again, Héctor thought. His chest heaved in a pained, suppressed laugh, before he instinctively reached out to grab at his bandaged throat at the sudden, stabbing ache it caused his vertebrae. But his arm was already held back--by a hand, they were holding him down, he couldn’t even grab at the man to stop the knife—

Imelda squeezed his right arm gently, and he gave a short gasp as he found himself back at the police station. She gave him a questioning look, and he glanced away.

What had he been… oh, right. Yeah, I’ll definitely come back here in pieces, he thought, a grim smile crossing his features, right before a darker voice within him added: Or to identify the pieces of whatever is left of—

His entire body shook audibly in an attempt to banish the thought, but it still hung there, in the back of his mind. That’s what’ll happen if you mess this up, amigo. So don’t.

Before he knew it, Imelda was helping him out of the lobby and into another room, where they sat at a desk across from two police officers. The familiar situation clicked, and he looked from one officer to the other. Heraldez—he knew that one. Heraldez had arrested him three years ago, after his attempt at using a femur bone (that he may or may not have gotten permission to borrow) as bait for an alebrije (that he also may or may not have gotten permission to borrow) that he attempted to ride across the bridge. It wasn’t his best plan, and Heraldez hadn’t exactly been impressed either. He wasn’t the worst officer Héctor had known, at least. As for the female officer next to Heraldez, her name was... Ade... Adelita? Yes, he remembered her from when he’d accidentally crashed on top of another skeleton when jumping off a roof—purely accidental, but the poor man he’d fallen onto had thought he was being attacked. Not one of his proudest moments.

He almost greeted them by name on reflex, but caught himself before he hurt his throat.

...Oh. Right. That’s why he was here.

“We meet again, Señor Rivera.” Officer Heraldez gave him a nod. “So you’re here to tell us what happened?”

“He is, yes,” Imelda said, frowning. “But as you can see, he is unable to talk at the moment.”

Adelita glanced at her partner. “Should... this be postponed?” she asked, and Héctor perked up, hope fluttering in his aching chest.

“If he’s able to write, that should do well enough,” Heraldez answered, pulling out a notebook and a pen and sliding it across the desk. Héctor’s heart promptly sank.

Adelita pulled out a notepad of her own, clicking her pen and preparing to write. Sitting on the table between the two officers was a file, which the female officer opened, looking over a few details. “Well, Señor Rivera, looks like you’re not on the criminal side of things for once.”

Héctor flinched, glancing back at Imelda, who didn’t seem amused by the statement. She didn’t exactly know about his criminal record—not all of it, anyway.

“You were assaulted two nights ago,” Adelita said, pointing to one line in the file. “Is that correct?”

Any comfort he had had at the familiarity of the situation melted away. They were starting already—?! No, no, he wasn’t ready yet, what was he supposed to say...?!

Ernesto’s words echoed in his mind: If you decide that the media or police should know about this… perhaps I’ll have to see about getting a new pair of shoes for the interview, hm?

No, no no no... He couldn’t do this.

He shouldn’t be here.

“Héctor?”

Imelda’s voice brought him back, and he shuddered. What had they asked, again?

“Señor Rivera, please answer the question. Is it true that you were assaulted two nights ago?”

Shuddering again, he gave the tiniest nod he could muster. That wouldn’t hurt, right? He was just confirming what they already knew. What was it Ernesto had told him... He’d said something about only saying what was “right?” So maybe he could tell them... some of it? So long as it didn’t incriminate Ernesto, maybe. That would have to be enough.

“What were you doing on that night?”

Héctor’s gaze fell on the pad and pen in front of him, and he reached out to it mechanically, his hand trembling as he wrote: Visiting shanties.

His heart ached at the memory—a couple nights ago, he had been so happy just to be around his nearly-forgotten family. At the time, he’d only been thinking about how much he enjoyed their company, and how he also needed to get home to his other family, right before...

When the pad was passed back to the officers, they both looked it over. “‘Visiting shanties.’ You were visiting the nearly-forgotten?” Heraldez asked. When Héctor gave a short nod, the officer passed the notepad back and regarded him evenly. “Were you alone when you were attacked?”

Immediately his mind went back to the alley he’d cut through, where he’d tripped over some garbage. There had been the huge pile there, and... and then...

“Señor Rivera?”

With a short gasp, he nodded quickly, and tugged on his hat with his free hand. Just answer the questions, he begged himself. Just answer the questions and don’t think about it, por favor. All you need to do is answer the questions.

“Did you see your attackers at all?”

He saw the outstretched hand, which he readily took, and seconds later found himself face-to-face with the stark white features of the man who had murdered him.

Another shudder rippled through his bones, and he shook his head.

Adelita scratched something into her notebook while Heraldez gazed at him. “Can you remember anything about your attackers?”

He could remember that there were three of them, that Ernesto had been dressed in that dark trench coat, his bones were still far too white, he didn’t have any signs of any previous injuries, and two of his stupid bodyguards were there, dressed in dark sweaters, wearing sunglasses that obscured their eyes...

Héctor’s non-existent stomach twisted, and he shook his head. He was certain Imelda was staring at him, but he didn’t want to look over to see what sort of expression she had.

“You’re certain that your attackers are no one that you personally know?”

Once again Ernesto’s face flashed through his mind, with that strange expression, one he wondered if he’d seen in life.

Hearing Imelda shift in her seat, he glanced over at her, surprised to see her glaring... at the officers? Quickly he stole a glance at them, finding that Officer Heraldez was looking at her. Perhaps Imelda thought they were being too harsh.

Regardless, he nodded, his skull aching from the weight of the unspoken lie.

“What happened when you were initially attacked?”

Ernesto caught him off-guard and he tried to get away by leaving his arm behind which was such a stupid idea, that was how Ernesto caught his hand in the first place, and he tried to pull his bones back but Ernesto stepped on his arm and squeezed his hand until it hurt and—

Biting his lip, Héctor scrawled onto the paper: Jumped me in the dark.

“And how did you lose your hand?”

Ernesto took his hand into the building and beckoned him to come in. When he refused...

Pain lanced through his missing hand, and he gasped, pulling his right wrist closer to his chest and gripping it protectively. Was that... was that real? Had that really just happened? Or...

“¿Estás bien?” Imelda asked, placing a hand on his left arm.

While Héctor appreciated the gesture, his eyes fell on the police officers, who exchanged looks he couldn’t read. Did they need to know what was done? Did Imelda? Did they need to know about... about... about the pain that spiked through his absent hand, the banging and snapping and the agony that consumed him until he lost consciousness, but even then it hurt, it hurt...!

“Señor Rivera, if this is too distressing to discuss, you can talk to us at a later time,” Adelita said, her concerned voice cutting through the memory.

He wanted to nod yes. He wanted to run out of that room and never come back. He...

Turning to Imelda, he found her looking back at him with a stern expression. Except it wasn’t truly stern—he could see it in the slight crease in her brows, in the way she held herself, that she was worried. Worried for him.

Some part of him wanted to tell her the truth, wanted to tell her what had really happened, wanted to stop hiding. But the rest of him knew he couldn’t. If he gave any incriminating evidence against Ernesto, then Ernesto would act. And even if he didn’t... how much did Imelda need to know? How much was it fair for her to know? She didn’t need to be worried over him. She didn’t need to be more distressed than she already was... or more angry. Would she be angry, if she knew everything that happened? Would she—

Imelda’s grip tightened into a gentle squeeze.

You know I’m on your side, ¿sí?

Héctor exhaled shakily, looking from her to the notepad. Finally he reached out, scratching into it quickly: They stole hand, broke it.

Next to him, Imelda drew in a sharp intake of air, and he shut his eyes, leaning back against his seat. Her hand moved away from his arm, and he heard her hissing a few curses under her breath. The officers, meanwhile, remained silent, and all at once he felt overcome with panic—had that been too much to tell them? Were they going to report to Ernesto that he’d said too much?

When he opened his eyes, he found Heraldez holding the notepad and looking at his partner, the both of them exchanging looks he couldn’t understand. He had to get out of here, he had to get out—

Heraldez slid the notebook across the table again. “Was that the only injury you sustained?”

“Of course it wasn’t—look at him!” Imelda snapped. She may have shouted something else, but it sounded like she’d moved into another room, or he’d moved into another room and they were holding him down, even as he fought to get away, and there was the hammer coming down on his rib cage, and the knife digging into his throat, and he couldn’t breathe, it hurt, he was going to suffocate, he couldn’t breathe, the knife was stuck—

Distantly someone called for him, and someone grabbed his hand, and he frantically pulled away before striking his fist at his attacker, pushing himself back with his feet—get away get away get away don’t do this to me again get away—

The world tipped, and something jarred his spine. For a brief moment he couldn’t distinguish up from down before he realized he was staring at the ceiling—not the dark ceiling of the abandoned building he’d been lured into, but the white ceiling of a well-lit room at the police station.

...Oh.

“Héctor? Can you hear me?” Even in his dazed state, he could hear the barely-concealed fear in Imelda’s voice—she was wincing as she knelt next to him, one hand reaching out, but not touching him, while the other was placed on her own cheek. Why was she doing that, though? She looked like someone had...

...oh no.

He tried to scramble upright, but realized he was still in his chair—he’d knocked it backward. Seeing this, Imelda grabbed the side of the chair with both hands, easing it upright, and Héctor with it. With her hand off of her face, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but he knew—if she’d had flesh instead of just bone, there would have been a mark. Quickly he looked away, not wanting to meet her gaze, or that of the police officers. He needed to say something to her, if he could, but not here—he didn’t want to do anything around these police officers. He didn’t want to be around them anymore—he wanted out of this place.

“Señora Rivera,” Heraldez said at length, “I understand that time is of the essence, but I do not believe your husband is in any state to give us any further information.”

I’m right here, he thought bitterly as he glanced up at them. They were both looking at her, avoiding his gaze. Were they ignoring him? Or could they not meet his gaze for guilt...?

Imelda’s hand was suddenly at his back, and he drew in a short breath as she answered, “I understand.”

“If he recalls anything else, please let us know immediately.” Adelita slid a card over to Imelda. “Until then, he should stay at home and recover.”

Héctor almost nodded sharply to indicate that he was listening and that he could answer for himself, but he resisted the urge partly to spare his injured neck, and partly because he felt very, very drained.

“We’ll call you if we have any updates on the situation,” Heraldez added.

“Sí,” Imelda said stiffly. “I understand.”

She was angry, Héctor realized, and barely containing it. Sickness churned within his rib cage at the thought, but he would just have to deal with it—the only other option was telling her what he really did know, thus endangering her and the rest of the family.

Slowly she stood, and he winced as she helped him to his feet. Once again she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, and he did the same as she aided him in limping out of the room, down the hallway, out of the station. All the while, Héctor tried to think of what he could possibly do to apologize for the absolute mess he had caused back there, and... His eyes flicked over to her cheekbone, and he felt sick as he wondered how hard he had struck it.

They stepped out the door. Pepita was still outside, her tail lashing irritably, but she perked up upon seeing them, ears twitching forward.

They were alone, aside from the alebrije. When Imelda took her arm off of him in order to help him mount Pepita, he turned to face her, hesitantly reaching out for her face, where he’d hit her. He had to say something—it would hurt, but he had to say it: “L-lo... s...”

“No,” she said, her voice heavy with sorrow, and gently pushed his hand back down. “I’m sorry I brought you here, Héctor. I didn’t think that...” She stopped herself, her shoulders drooping.

You didn’t know, he wanted to say, but he had told her. He’d told her how he didn’t want to go through with this, even though he hadn’t said why. She’d known how uneasy he was about everything going on, yet she’d still pushed him to go through with this.

“I won’t give up,” Imelda went on, straightening again. “We will get your hand back, but I won’t force you to do something that will hurt you.”

While part of him wished that she’d determined that earlier, he found himself giving a faint smile before mouthing the word gracias.

Pepita scratched at the ground beneath her claws, her tail swishing. Sighing, Imelda turned to her alebrije, placing a hand on her, before turning back to Héctor. “Are you ready to head back?”

He nodded, and she helped him up onto Pepita once more.

It had been a terrible experience overall, but at least it was over... though he hoped he hadn’t said too much. As Pepita took off, fear bolted down his spine—his family could be in danger. For a moment he considered talking to Imelda about it, but he wasn’t sure how to communicate it to her, or what he could even say. Not to mention, he couldn’t do much while sitting on the back of a flying alebrije. He’d have to discuss it with her when they got back... somehow.

No one had followed her out back. Good.

Slowly shutting the side gate behind her, Victoria crept around the edge of the house, constantly keeping an eye on it to make sure no one glanced out the window and saw her. She knew her papá had said to make sure no one left to search for Dante until Mamá Imelda returned, since she could very well come back with Dante. So it was a good thing that Victoria wasn’t leaving to search for the dog, and if all went well, she could slip out and be back before anyone noticed she was gone.

Even if they noticed her absence, though, she couldn’t really bring herself to care, so long as they noticed it once she was far enough away. They’d have little to complain about once she got to the bottom of this mess with Dante. The incident surely wouldn’t have gone unnoticed, if there really was an attack that ended with an alebrije jumping out a window. Word would certainly travel about it, and she was going to figure out what she could.

Victoria was done with anyone messing with her familia.

#hector rivera #imelda rivera #coco rivera #coco #pixar coco #coco spoilers #rivera family #dante #pepita #fanfic #my writing #neither can you

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sweetiepie08 · 6 years

Text

Worst Altar Boys in Santa Cecelia (Chapter 1)

Oops, my one-shot got turned into a multi-chap.

Poor Hector has a talent for turning dumb mistakes into full-blown disasters. He should have known that altar serving would be no exception. At least he has his best friend by his side and a friendly older neighbor to confide in. He isn’t trying to cause trouble. It just sort of turns out that way. But can he pull it together and step up when it counts?

“The two priests you need to worry about are Padre Eduardo and Padre Manuel,” Ernesto explained as they made their way down the street. Héctor, still an energetic ten year old, often veered off to the side to jump off a stoop or kick a stone. Ernesto, fourteen now, eschewed such childish (though fun looking) things and kept straight on down the road, occasionally calling for his friend to keep up and pay attention. “Now, Padre Manuel isn’t so bad. He’s not too strict, but he is old hermanito. I think he could have met Moses he’s so old. He doesn’t see very well, so sometimes you’ll have to shove things right into his hands or he’ll drop them. His voice is also really gravelly and he can be hard to understand, but that’s not such a problem once you get the mass routine down. Padre Eduardo, on the other hand…” Ernesto paused to give himself enough time to fully cringe. “He’s younger but you do not want to get on his bad side. I’ve been screamed at so many times, my ears are still ringing.”

“So, you’re already on his bad side?” Héctor asked, kicking a rock ahead of himself.

“Not exactly,” Ernesto said. “I was but then I started singing along with the hymns and he was impressed with my dedication.”

“So, sing the hymns with Padre Eduardo. Got it.” Héctor spotted an open crate laying on its side. With some fancy footwork, he shot the rock off to the side and into the dead center of the open crate. “But what if I mess up or forget something?”

“That’s when you get screamed at.”

“Oh, great…” His shoulders slumped. He hated getting screamed at, and he knew if he got it from Padre Eduardo, it’d get back to Mama and he’d be in twice as much trouble. At least Ernesto’s parents were never around to yell at him. “What happens if-”

“Hey, hey, wait, wait, wait…” Ernesto threw his arm out in front of Héctor and sniffed the air. “You smell that?”

Héctor gave the air a big whiff and immediately replaced his dower face with a grin. “Señora Morales made pan dulce!” he clapped his hands together and gave the air another dreamy whiff. “Oh, it smells fresh too…”

“Well, come on.” Ernesto waved him forward. “Let’s go get some.”

“I don’t think she made it for us, hermano.”

Ernesto looked at him like he didn’t see the problem. “So? I’ll bet we can get some anyway. Here, get on my back.” He crouched down and Héctor climbed up. “Now try to look pathetic, like you haven’t eaten in weeks.” Héctor flopped against Ernesto’s back and buried his face between Ernesto’s shoulder blades. “Maybe moan a little…” Héctor let out a soft “mmmff” and Ernesto smiles. “That’s it.” He walked them down a few doors and paused just before they turned the corner. They could hear her humming as she swept the steps. “Okay, there’s her house. Show time.” He put on his best concerned big-brother voice and said, “Come on, hermanito, just a little further. We’ll get some food in you in no time.”

A stout older woman looked up from sweeping and gave them a big smile. “Hola boys! Is he alright?” she asked, pointing at Héctor’s boneless form.

“Yeah, he should be fine soon.” Ernesto gave Héctor a little toss as he readjusted his grip. “He’s just starving. See, he’s supposed to start as an altar boy next Sunday. We spent all day practicing, but, we got carried away and forgot to break for lunch. Poor Héctor here is so nervous, he skipped breakfast too.”

“I’m sorry Ernesto,” Héctor said, lifting his head. “I just wanted to get everything perfect. I couldn’t tell if my belly hurt because I was nervous or hungry. Now I know, it’s both.” He weakly dropped his head again.

“Oh you poor things.” Señora Morales set her broom aside and clasped her hands over her heart. “You worked so hard. You’re growing boys. You need to eat. Come in. I just whipped something up.”

They followed her inside and they sat down at her kitchen table. She got out two plates and gave them each a tamale. “You boys excited to start altar serving?” she asked.

“Yes, I mean, I’m starting, but Ernesto’s been doing it for a while.”

“Oh, that’s right. I’ve seen you at mass. You know, my Victor was an acolyte. I was so proud, seeing him in his robes.”

“That’s nice,” Ernesto said between bites.

“You boys remind me of him, especially you, Héctor. He couldn’t gain a pound when he was your age either.”

Ernesto chuckled and Héctor kicked him under the table. “How is Victor up north?” Héctor knew Victor. He liked Victor. They didn’t interact much as Victor was a good ten years older than him, but there were times where he’d join them for a ball game outside or catch them making trouble but only acknowledge it with a wink and a smirk. One time, when Héctor ran to the market for his Mama, some bullies decided to jump him for his groceries. Victor happened to be nearby and stepped in. He chased the bullies away and helped Héctor repair his bruised pride with a joke and a laugh. “Anyone messes with you again, just let me know, chamaco,” Victor said as he gave Héctor a pat on the back.

“Oh, he’s doing fine, I suppose,” she mused, looking out the window. “He writes and sends money when he can. I just hope that…”

“Hope what?” Héctor asked.

“Never mind, I shouldn’t worry you boys,” she said, turning back to them, a cheery smile on her face once again. “It’s a beautiful day, you boys should be outside.”

She took their empty plates and they got up from the table. Ernesto eyeballed the plate of pan dulce by the window. Señora Morales followed his eye line and gave them a sly smirk. “Would you boys like some?” she asked, nodding her head toward the plate.

“Sí, por favor,” Héctor answered, a smile growing from ear to ear. He was never one to turn down free food, especially something sweet. He took the piece offered to him and shoved half of it in his mouth. “Muchas gracias” he said while covering his chewing mouth.

“Héctor…” Ernesto scolded, giving him a don’t-be-such-a-kid glare.

Héctor quickly swallowed and looked down at the floor while the heat rose in his cheeks. Did Ernesto really have to correct him all the time? Especially in front of other people? He knew Ernesto was just trying to make him act more grown-up but did he have to do that now? Why couldn’t he just let Héctor enjoy things? Ernesto kept glaring at him, so Héctor mumbled out a quick “lo siento” and took a smaller bite.

Satisfied, Ernesto relinquished his glare. “Gracias, Señora,” he said, flashing the dazzling charming-young-man smile he’d been working on.

“Run along now,” she said, a fragile smile forming on her lips. “You don’t want to waste this lovely day.”

Ernesto thanked her again and started for the door, but Héctor lingered. He saw some sadness in Señora Morales’ face and felt a twinge in his heart. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but stopped when he heard Ernesto snap his name.

“Héctor, come on. We don’t want to bother the lady any longer,” Ernesto called from the door.

Maybe Ernesto was right. Maybe he shouldn’t pry. Héctor gave her an apologetic smile, thanked her for the food, and ran off with his friend.

[-]

The morning of Héctor’s first mass rolled around and, to his chagrin, Padre Eduardo was serving that day. He was nervous enough as it was, but Ernesto’s stories about other boys who messed up around Padre Eduardo made him extra jumpy. He made sure to get there early and get his robe on. Apparently, Padre Eduardo hated when the altar boys took too long getting ready. He and Ernesto got there about the same time. There was supposed to be a third, but he hadn’t arrived yet. They just finished putting on his robe when Padre Eduardo stalked into the sacristy.

“Boy,” Padre Eduardo barked from behind him.

Héctor jumped and turned around, knowing that meant him. Ernesto warned him that Padre Eduardo took a while before learning names. “Sí, Padre?”

The priest reached into his sleeve and produced a matchbook. “Get those candles lit,” he ordered, tossing it to Héctor. Without another word, he stalked back out.

“And that was Padre Eduardo,” Ernesto said, once the priest had gone.

“That’s it? No introduction? No ‘here’s how you do it’?”

“Nope, just get to work,” Ernesto said, grabbing two brass candle lighters. “Here, we’ll each do half. When Padre Eduardo orders one boy to do something, he usually means everyone.”

Ernesto held out the candle lighters and Héctor took out a match. He honestly wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never been allowed to light a match before. His mother did not trust him to handle fire and anyone who knew his history of accidental disasters knew why. Ernesto was an exception to this rule. He was always trying to get his friend to do more grown-up things and Héctor supposed using matches was one of them.

He tried running the match along the strip the way he’d seen adults do it. Nothing. He figured he just didn’t do it hard enough and tried again. Still nothing. Okay, maybe the strip is just worn out. He tried a third time and broke the match. Ernesto rolled his eyes and let out an irritated huff. Héctor frowned and looked at the matchbook like he was solving a puzzle. How did Mama do it? Oh yeah, she put the flap down and pinched it between her fingers. Héctor tried just that but apparently he pinched too hard and broke another match.

“Just let me do it.” Ernesto said, resting the candle lighters in the crook of his elbow and reaching for the matchbook.

“No, I got it.” Héctor already had another match pinched against the strip. Ernesto grabbed at the matchbook. In one swift motion, Héctor both pulled the matchbook away and lit the match. However, the match flew out of his hand and landed on the edge of a tablecloth.

The flame began to grow and spread. Ernesto shoved the candle lighters into Héctor’s arms, grabbed a book off a nearby table and started beating the fire out.

“Wait, wait wait,” Héctor gasped. “That’s not a bible, is it?”

Ernesto stopped when the flames died. They both froze, neither one brave enough to take a closer look at the now-scorched book. After a minute, Ernesto worked up the nerve to peak at the cover and breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s just the Eucharistic ministers’ sign-in book.”

“What are we going to do?” Héctor asked, pulling at his own hair. “What are we going to tell Padre Eduardo?”

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” Ernesto said, getting up. “We’re going to hide the book. Then, after mass, you’ll take it with you and get rid of it somehow.”

“Me?”

“Yes, this is your fault. You dropped the match.”

“I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t tried to grab it.”

“This is no time to argue.” Ernesto shoved the book into Héctor’s hands and took the candle lighters back. “Stash the book before someone sees.”

Héctor twisted his head around, looking for somewhere to hide the evidence. He spotted a gap between a cabinet and a wall. He shoved the book in the gap and made a mental note to remember it after mass. “Okay, what do we do about the tablecloth?”

Both boys looked at the burnt black splotch marring the previously pristine, white tablecloth. “Quick, turn it around,” Ernesto said. They immediately began taking things off the table and twisting the cloth so that the burnt side was against the wall.

“What are you guys doing?”

The boys turned to see the third altar boy, Carlos, standing in the doorway.

Carlos’ eyes fell on the black splotch on the tablecloth. “Did you guys set it on fire?” he gasped. “You could have burned the whole church down!”

“And you’re gonna keep your damn mouth shut about it, Carlos,” Ernesto warned.

“Please Carlos,” Héctor begged. “It’s my first day. I don’t want Padre Eduardo to kill me on my first day.”

Carlos rubbed the back of his neck as he looked back and forth between the boys and the burn stain. “I’ll…just go get my robe on,” he finally said, headed for the cabinet.

They boys finished turning the tablecloth and put everything back where it was. When Padre Eduardo stormed back in a few moments later, demanding to know why the candles weren’t lit yet, he didn’t notice anything was amiss.

[-]

Héctor tried his best to look appropriately reverent all through mass, but he couldn’t help nervously twisting his fingers. He kept going over in his head how to dispose of the book and different ways he could get caught. Luckily, he made few mistakes during the mass itself and only earned irritated glares from Padre Eduardo. At least there was no yelling.

He and Ernesto lingered after mass, pretending to talk about this & that until Carlos and Padre Eduardo left. Once they were gone, Héctor pulled the burnt book from its hiding place.

“Know how you’re going to get rid of it?” Ernesto asked.

“I think I’ll just hide it under my bed until I think of something better.”

“No, don’t do that! What if your mother finds it?”

Héctor nervously flipped the book in his hands. Ernesto had a point. His mother would want to know why he was hiding a burnt book under his bed. She’d get the truth out of him then drag him down to the church and make him tell Padre Eduardo about what he’d done. Oh, he’d be in for one of Padre Eduardo’s infamous screaming sessions then.

“Look, just take it with you and dump it somewhere on your way home,” Ernesto insisted.

“You’re not coming with me?” Héctor asked. “But we live on the same street.”

“I’m not going home. I’m meeting up with Camila González,” Ernesto answered, a proud smile tugging at his lips.

Héctor rolled his eyes. Ernesto just started getting interested in girls, in the kissy-kissy kind of way. Héctor himself just didn’t see the appeal (at least not yet). At least Ernesto didn’t bother him with the details.

“Look, just toss it in an alley somewhere,” Ernesto said, holding him by the shoulders. “Bury it under some trash. Just make sure it doesn’t get back to you.”

Héctor let out a long breath. “I’ll try.”

“Good,” Ernesto said, giving his friend a light, playful push as he removed his hands. “I’ve got to go. I’m meeting her in the Plaza for a dance. We’ll hang out tomorrow.”

Héctor watched Ernesto walk out the door. Once his friend was gone, he opened the book and started flipping through it. It wasn’t burnt too badly. It was just the cover and a chunk of the first pages. Maybe if he just tore off the burnt parts… Padre Eduardo would want to know why the book was all torn up. No, that wouldn’t work. Ernesto was right. He’d just had to get rid of the whole thing.

[-]

Héctor tried his best to look inconspicuous as he carried the burnt book with him on his way home. He thought about sticking it down his shirt so no one could see it, but he was far too skinny for that to look anything but ridiculous. So, he hugged the burnt side to his chest, covered the other side with both arms, and hoped he didn’t just happen to run into any Eucharistic ministers.

As he made his way down the street, it occurred to him that he just stole from a church and his palms started to sweat. It’s okay, he told himself. It’s just one little sign-in book. It was going to get thrown away once it was full anyway. They can always just get another one. God doesn’t send people to hell for stupid screw-ups, right? He wondered if he should bring this up at confession, but that would mean confessing to Padre Eduardo who was the last person he wanted to find out. No, he was stuck taking this secret to his grave. God would understand, right? He wondered if Jesus ever got into stupid messes like this.

Señora Morales smiled and waved at him from her window and he smiled and waved back. His stomach did another twist. Damn, he was almost home and he still hadn’t found anywhere to ditch the book. He kept looking as nonchalant as possible as he walked on, but grimaced as soon as he was out of Señora Morales’ site. He had to hurry. Home was only a few streets away and he’d be in big trouble if his mother saw the book. His mind went into a panic. What do I do? What do I do?

He heard a bark behind him and an idea sprung to his mind. He turned to see the gray xolo dog who like to hang out on his street. Héctor knew this dog. It liked to sleep under his bedroom window and his mother scolded him all the time for tossing it spare bones. The dog would definitely help him out. It was busy biting at a stick as Héctor approached him. “Dante,” Héctor called gently and the dog looked up at him. “Dante, want a new chew toy?”

Dante sat straight up and barked excitedly. Héctor held the book out at the dog’s mouth-level. “Here you go. Chew as much as you want.”

Dante grabbed the book in his jaws. He held one side down with one paw and gnawed at the spine. The knots in Héctor’s stomach began to loosen. This was good. Dogs rip stuff up all the time. Maybe he’ll even bury it. “Good boy, Dante,” Héctor said as the dog started tearing at the pages. He gave Dante a pat on the head and the dog scampered off with its prize.

Héctor’s heart felt so light, he ran the rest of the way home, creating his own wind and letting it whip him in the face. There. Done and done. It was out of his hands. If anyone found Dante with the book, they couldn’t get too mad about it. Dante was a dog after all. He didn’t know any better. And if they wondered how the dog got the book, they couldn’t trace it back to him.

He did it. He survived his first day as an altar boy and his first mass-related disaster. There’s no way it could be as bad next week. He couldn’t possibly mess up any worse than nearly burning down the church. Next time just had to get better, right? Right?

#coco #pixar coco #coco fanfiction #coco fandom #hector rivera #ernesto del la cruz #santa cecilia #altar servers #hector coco #ernesto de la cruz

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uncuentofriki · 6 years

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What can you tell us about Mexican funerals? Are there any specific traditions or the way that people think about them/death?

Well, it depends

On cities and people with certain money or prevision (I used to work selling funeral plans) are used to spend an entire night (or even two) on a funerary recint, usually praying the rosary for the deceased, remembering his/her stories, of course there’s lots of crying. That’s what we did when a paternal uncle died of cancer. My sister, more used to the tradition of our hometown (to specify: my mom comes from the center of Mexico, my dad comes from the north, but we grew up on my mom’s town), when she arrived (she lives far from me and had to travel alone, on that time I lived with my dad) to my uncle’s funeral, said “Is here!? This looks like a hotel!”. Maybe because we had my paternal grandpa’s funeral on a more humble funerary agency (because of my grandpa’s Union -he was a taxi driver- I guess?).On both cases, we had menudo for breakfast (menudo is a soup made with lots of spices, chilis, corn -”maíz reventado” we call it- and chops of cow stomach. I promise it’s delicious).On my hometown, usually we do that on houses, despite having funerary chapels and stuff, but they lend us a screen, a crucifix or an image of Virgin Mary and big candles . The dead is on the coffin anyway. We close the street with cars and put awnings/canopies (I don’t remember the word, I’m tired, but that thing that people put when weddings are on gardens) and chairs. That’s how my maternal uncle’s funeral went, on his house. Usually is also expected to spend the entire night praying or telling stories and on the morning we have coffee and pan dulce (the funerary agency usually covers the cost of that, but also it’s not uncommon that someone pays for that, in case that the people are lots -because lots of people are like “someone died! free pan dulce and coffee!”).

Anyway, no matter if on a funerary chapel or on the house, that ceremony is called Velorio.

After one or two nights on the Velorio (my uncle had two nights, my family decided to wait for my father, my sister and I to arrive), we have a mass, called “Misa de cuerpo presente” (present body mass), where it’s dedicated to remember the life of the deceased, what he/she lefts behind and how they’re now angels praying and seeing for us, how they’re now reunited with someone else that died before them (on the case of my paternal uncle, Miguel, well… the priest told us that he was again with my grandparents, on the case of my maternal uncle, Lin… weeeell my maternal grandparents are still alive and kicking so the priest had to asure my grandparents that he was fine now) Then is usual on small towns for people to walk along with the car that carries the coffin to the cemetary, on silence or praying or even singing songs alusive (For example this “Entre tus manos/ Está mi vida, Señor/ Entre tus manos/ Pongo mi existir/ Hay que morir/ Para vivir/Entre tus manos/ Pongo yo mi ser -On Your hands/ I leave my live, Oh Lord/ On Your hands/ I leave my existence/ We have to die/ In order to live/ On Your hands/ I leave my entire being). Usually there’s also mariachis on the way to the cemetary and there. Some people leave their “when I die playlist” for the mariachis to play (for example with my uncle Miguel, it included Sinatra’s “My way”, with my granpa “Mi viejo” -And I still can’t hear those songs without crying like Mary Magdalene). And people sends lots of flowers, usually with a ribbon that says who sended it. It’s usually christantemus, white roses and other white flowers.

Then someone from the family says thank you to everyone for being there, people throw flowers to the tomb after the coffin descends. After that, the family announces if there’s going to be a “Novenario” or a “Trío de Misas”. If it’s the first case, then it’s nine days praying the rosary every day on the house of someone of the family or where that person lived (on the case of Uncle Lin, it was on his house), and on the last day, we give a small souvenir thanking people for being there. If it’s a “trío de misas” is just 3 mases on 3 diferent days. And the same thing, a souvenir, more coffee and pan dulce. On both cases, the last day is more of a fiesta usually. This ceremonies are most as a way to purify the soul of the deceased and help them to reach heaven but also a way to help the family to cope with the lost.

Also I have to say that I have find fundamental differences between the people of the center and the north of Mexico is that the people of Jalisco (where I live and where’s my hometown) has a more dignified attitude on funerals. Yes we cry lots but never losing our temper (think of Imelda for that). Even my grandma Mary, who is a really emotional woman, was more like Imelda on that moment. And the people on the north… well, when my grandparents died (with 15 years of diference) both times one of my aunts tried to jump into the tomb (and when uncle Miguel died it wasn’t the exception), they cry screaming…. it’s a telenovela, really. I lost also a cousin, he was just 7 days old (we would be the same age had he lived). He died on his mother’s birthday to make things worse, so she was always reluctant to celebrate her birthday (until she reached her 50th birthday). Since I was too small and family doesn’t like to talk lots of the disease that took his life -and almost took my aunt’s life too-, I don’t know what happens on that cases.

Of course it hurts, but we like to think more “well, now (s)he’s with… well at least the suffering is over -in the case of Uncle Miguel he died of cáncer, my paternal grandpa died because of kidney problems and his wife for diabetes complications-”. On the case of Uncle Miguel’s death, he died a week before Día de Muertos, so when the day came, I told to the ofrenda “Tramposo” (”You cheater”). And yes with the dead that happened when I was more self-concious (my paternal grandma died when I was 4 months old), I got severe depresions. Like anyone else anywhere else on the world that has loved ones. Yes we have this beautiful tradition but that doesn’t mean we don’t miss them and cry for them until we resign that they’re away from us now. But at the same time we can make jokes about that (when my grandpa died, Uncle Miguel sat on his prefered chair and added salt to the menudo without tasting it first -as my grandpa used to do-, and said “so the chair doesn’t lose the habit” -since Uncle Miguel was next from my grandpa, now I avoid the chair at all costs-).When my grandpa died, since we used to read the news together on the mornings when I stayed with my paternal family (they live at 18+ hours away from me, so when I go is for a good amount of time), I readed the news with him for a last time in front of his coffin, someone tried to call me out for doing that (I even asked one of my uncles to bring me the newspaper), but my parents told that person “No, that was their thing. Leave her alone”. And well, with my uncle Miguel me and my sister remembered all the silly stuff we used to do together and as the nerds we are, we said the lines that Roy Mustang says on Maes Huges Funeral (imagine, he was for us what Maes Huges was for Mustang). My mom left her bridal bouquet on a tomb of a friend of hers that died weeks before her wedding. And so on with traditions like that. Some people even take windwhirls to the tombs of children or toys.

#Coco pixar #mexican culture references

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 4 years

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Primo? Are you awake?

A little fic I wrote a few years ago and didn’t post. Set during Song of Sirenas after Shuriki’s defeat. I can’t believe I accurately guessed that Isabel likes to talk about big events like in Dreamcatchers.

Esteban paced impatiently across the floor of his suite. It was been the day after Shuriki’s second death at Elena’s hands in Buena Vista, and everyone was still reeling from the sudden attack and victory. While the rest of the city was celebrating, Esteban was taking the time to think.

The suite was full of deafening silence and darkness- it reminded him of the nights he spent alone in his room of the palace during Shuriki’s reign. Appreciating the small breaks of silence away from the noise and the screams of the tyrant. Only to remind him of the screams of his aunt and uncle as Shuriki heartlessly disintegrated them.

Because of him.

She would never have gotten to the palace if it weren’t for him. Him and his stupid, reckless idea that he deserved power. He got power alright. Power and stress and constantly kneeling toward that hateful, vain old shrew.

But he deserved it... He brought her-

His head snapped to the doorway as he heard a creak.

"Primo? Are you awake?" A voice whispered behind the door.

An unconscious smile spread across Esteban's face. There was only girl that called him cousin. Isabel.

"Isa? Is there something you need?" Esteban asked softly. He had a soft spot for his younger cousin he’d admit. Everyone in the family did. Isabel was the best of them. Sweet, intelligent, compassionate and all. She was the one’s imprisonment who he hated himself for the most. She was the baby of the family and even when they were young and playing made up games of rescuing Princess Isabel from the pirates, he always swore to protect her.

Esteban forced a smile on his face and pushed those dark memories down.

"No. Everything’s fine. Everyone’s celebrating.” Isabel paused, biting her lip as if she wanted to say more but wasn’t sure to continue.

“Do you want me to come?” He prompted.

“No, you don’t have to. I’m fine. I’m happy. Just wanted to know where you were?’ Her voice said it all. It was light and happy. But under it, heard the tiredness. It'd been a long day and she was trying to keep up the joyful tone in her voice.

“Is it about Shuriki?" Esteban said softly, surprised to feel a gulp rise in his throat as he remembered Shuriki’s startling appearance with the three malvagos and aiming her scepter at them. He had been sure it was the end for them. And considering his betrayal of throwing her scepter to Elena that started her fall from the throne. He was sure she was going to make his end slow and painful.

"She’s dead right?" Isabel muttered as she slumped against the door, tears pooling in her eyes. “I mean we thought she was dead before and she came back at the Sunflower Festival and she tried to set the castle on fire while I was in it and she tried to kill us here..and.. Everyone’s happy now but what if she comes back. The Delgados are still out there, scheming against us and so many things could go wrong. I don’t want to worry Elena because last time she almost got killed worrying about my feelings. But I’m scared, Esteban. I’m so scared.”

Esteban felt his heart drop to his stomach. He flash-backed to 51 years ago when he last saw her as a little girl of 9 or 10, running around the palace with a child screwdriver to make a new invention.

She always been so happy and now... She was still a child but had seen more death and attempted murder in her family in 3 years than all the ones he had witnessed during Shuriki’s 41 year rule. He had seen some brutal executions but those paled in comparison to seeing your own familia... gone before your eyes.

Esteban walked over to the door and sat next to her. He paused trying to gather his thoughts. He wished to comfort her and assure her that Shuriki would never come again but he knew that would do no good. Isabel’s brain was too logical not to go over every possible worst case scenario. Considering what they had seen, some possibilities like the Delgados returning to exact revenge seemed likely to happen. Besides he couldn’t lie to her that those thoughts were running around in his head too. He already lied to her enough.

"I honestly don’t know what to tell you, Isa. I’m scared too about what will happen.”

The moonlight flashed across Isabel’s face for Esteban to see her tears spilling over and her ducking her head into her knees with resignment. Esteban felt his eyes grow hot and itchy as his own tears threatened to spill over. He was hurting her..and she didn’t even know the full extent of pain he caused her. At least he could offer her one sliver of good truth. Truth that he wished he had told her 44 years ago.

"But unlike our enemies we have love on our side. It’s cliche. But our love never fades or dissipates. It is like strength that it keeps us going. Let me tell you- that while Shuriki ruled, you were one of the things that kept me going. That someday, Shuriki would be defeated and the I'd come to the palace and see you and abuela and abuelo and Elena and that we’d start one of our sing alongs. And you would go to your room to make a new invention that would us steal pan dulces from the kitchen. I even hoped for your mother and father to be alive.” Isabel smiled softly at that and snuggled her head on his chest making it feel warm on the inside as well as outside.

Esteban shuddered as tears silently dripped onto his cheeks. He had forgotten how hard it was to be vulnerable. “I didn't know how much I needed you. You and the rest of our familia. I wanted you to be right next to me and be my chess partner. I know you won’t always remain a little girl, you’re growing into a fine young woman. But I miss all the memories we had back when we were younger. I realize, I needed you as much as you needed me.”

"I didn't know you felt that way." Isabel whispered “You seem so...um mature and distant.”

Esteban sighed in relief that she didn’t use the dreaded “O” word, but his heart clenched with guilt knowing how often he dismissed or pushed her away because of their age difference. How they don’t have much in common anymore. Sure, they both preferred intellectual pursuits but he had thought Isabel would rather spend those pursuits with people her own age.

Esteban put his arm around Isabel’s shoulder to pull in her into a half-hug, “I’m sorry if I do not show it all the time but I do love you. Never doubt that. Never doubt that I will do anything to keep you safe and away from Shuriki. I’d die first.”

Suddenly, Isabel pulled away from him and then forcefully hugged him with so much force, he tumbled to his side. Esteban revealed a small smile. It was so spontaneous and child-like. It reminded him of her 7th birthday when he brought to her, to his and Victor’s "secret" hang out and they played "The Princess-Scientist and the assistant" until dark. He had been the assistant that had chemicals blown into his face, multiple times. She had hugged him the same way when he showed her the secret hang out.

"I love you too, Esteban and if you love me so much then, please don’t die for me. " She said and rolled off him so she could lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling next to him.

“I won’t die but I will protect you.” Esteban expected her to retort like her older sister that she did not need protection but she remained silent.

It soon lapsed into easy silence only broken by the sound of cheers from the ballroom downstairs.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Esteban asked, uncharacteristically restless from the silence.

“I was just thinking how glad that you are not like Cristóbal.” Isabel answered. Esteban tensed and managed a breezy, “How so?”

“For one thing, you are not greedy enough to betray us.” Esteban winced hoping she would think it was a disgusted wince against Cristóbal’s character.

“You love me.” Isabel continued and Esteban squeezed her hand, “This is true.”

“Cristóbal was too...uh extroverted. He always wanted to play and have food and party.”

“Many people like to play and eat food. Elena for example. Our abuelos too.” Esteban pointed out, curious as to why Isabel brought that up.

“I know. But that’s why I came to talk to you. The others want to celebrate and live life in the moment. They don’t want to dwell on what might happen or the scary things that have happened.”

“I’m sure they do dwell on what has happened and fear the future, they just keep it private.” Esteban said seriously, reaching to squeeze her hand again. He had seen their abuelos have a private moment in the library the day after their liberation from Shuriki. Standing in front of the family portrait, crying in each other’s arms for their lost daughter and son-in-law. He had not personally witness Elena having those moments of darkness but he was sure with the responsibility she carried, she must have some.

“But I have to dwell on it with someone. I want to talk it out. The first Día de Los Muertos we had, that was the first time Elena and I talked about how-h..how Mamí and Papí died. We hadn’t talked about it before. She was too busy rebuilding the kingdom, and bringing the festivals back. Abuela and Abuelo told me just to try to live in their memory and take each day at a time. I don’t want to take each day at a time like nothing happened. I needed to talk about them! I needed to talk about how sad and unfair it is that they’re gone! I needed to talk about Shuriki now.”

Esteban sat up, prompting Isabel to do so as well. “You have every right to feel that way and to think about how scary Shuriki’s return was. Feel free to talk to me anytime. But please, don’t let them consume you. It will only hurt more. Trust me, I know.”

“I won’t. That’s why I’m going to go downstairs and get some of the flan.” With a bright smile illuminating her face, Isabel stood up and skipped to the door. “Have fun.” Esteban opened it for her. “Aren’t you coming, Cousin?” Isabel questioned, standing still in the doorway.

“No-I need time to just think.” Esteban declined, smoothing his mustache.

“But Esteban, you’ve been thinking all afternoon. You said not to let the dark memories and thoughts consume you.” Isabel reminded with an innocent tone full of caring and she held out her hand, offering him a chance to escort her downstairs and be part of some happy festivities. Away from the thoughts of Shuriki, death and betrayal.

Esteban took her small hand into his own and closed the door behind him, “Thank you, Isa. Thank you for reminding me of the light.”

#flores cousins #elena of avalor #isabel castillo flores #esteban flores #my fanfic #my fanfiction #primo?

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