September has been an extremely busy month at work, and I could barely check tumblr, read/write fics, draw fanarts or freely embrace my Coco fangirlism in any form. But I had more free time this week, so I finally returned to my one-shots collection and kept writing the next one I wanna post.
This is meant to be a multi PoV one-shot about the bonding process between Héctor and the members of the family he doesn't properly know: Julio, Victoria and Rosita. I wrote Julio's part several weeks ago, and now I've been working on Victoria's. I finished it on Thursday. And… it's not exactly what I had planned. But I love it.
So let's talk a bit about Victoria, shall we?
There are two headcanons about Vic I love a lot. One is the ‘lesbian-Victoria’. The other one is the ‘ace/aro-Victoria’. My favorite (and the one I assume) is the later, because it's closer to my heart, and asexuality/aromanticism is something I think we should be writing/talking more about. So there I was, writing about an ace/aro Vic who's trying to bond with her long lost grandpa, and a shy Héctor who's secretly worried about why exactly his granddaughter never got married, never started her own family and seems to not even care about "love" at all. Because… what if it was his fault? What if Vic got so impressed by her grandma's love story that she didn't even try?
I got more involved than I had anticipated in writing this, but I regret nothing. It's been somehow cathartic, thinking about what kind of life Vic could've had as an ace/aro woman in the 50-60's. Rejecting suitors. Ignoring all the courtship thing. Not even thinking about anybody in a romantic way. The growing concern of Coco and Julio (what happens? Is she afraid? Is she 'traumatized'?). Being misunderstood by her own friends (don't you want to be with anyone? Really? How sad! That's quite depressing! Not having anyone to love! Why don't you give a try? What a meaningless life…). And the town's gossip (what's wrong with her? Does she even like men? Does she like women? Such a prude! How frigid! Perhaps no man ever tried, she's quite cold and cynical, not appealing at all…). And all because if you don't want a partner, you look like a heartless freak. If you're a woman and don't want to have children, it seems you've wasted your life. You will die alone, there will be nothing left behind to remember you. And it's tragic, because Vic actually died quite young, and I'm sure there were many people in Santa Cecilia who thought or said 'well, it could've been worse'. After all, she didn't leave behind a husband and children.
But of course Vic loves. She loved her family and her job. She loved her grandma and uncles, and her parents. She loved Elena. She loved her nephews. The 'loving tía Victoria' image is especially moving for me, because I'm there. I'm 'the auntie'. I have a lot of nieces and nephews, and I love them deeply. They're my kids, I've been taking care of them since I was 9, I would do anything for them. And I imagine Victoria being the same kind of aunt with Berto, Enrique and Gloria. Perhaps she's Berto's godmother; I can picture her standing so proud and happy in his christening, holding baby Berto fondly. Perhaps she used to help Enrique with his math homework or whatever. Perhaps she was Gloria's confident and took her to the cinema now and then. That kind of love is very powerful, too. Very strong. She didn't start a family, but she had a family. She had no children, but those kids were her children.
And then I imagine her in her first Día de Muertos as a deceased. Dead in her fifties (51 in my headcanon), when Berto's barely a young man, Enrique and Gloria were still teenagers, and her parents were elderly. She and Elena would be used to their little talks at night, about how old mamá and papá already are, about the business, about the future, sharing worries and supporting and comforting each other. But now she's left her little sister behind. She won't be there with her when they have to bury their parents. She won't be there when the kids get married and have their own children. She's going to miss everything she's loved the most. And she would stand before the ofrenda, knowing that, even so, there will be always people thinking 'it could've been worse'.
Romantic love can be something beautiful, of course. But there are many different kinds of love, and ways to love. The strong bond between siblings, between family or between friends needs to be more valued. It's not a second-hand love, and there are a lot of people unable to understand it. That's heartbreaking. But I'm very glad Coco gave me the opportunity to write about these things again.
In the novel, Elena is the first person Victoria asked Miguel about. How is my sister? So, since I've already drawn Vic being a tía with her kids, I made today's little doodle as a tribute to the Rivera sisters, their bond and their banter.
I'm not very fond of AUs, but there's a kind of fic in the Coco fandom that I really like a lot: retellings of the movie with a little divergence or some sort of role reversal/role switch.
Some of the fics I've read and enjoyed the most over these months are like this. Like Elegy, my very favorite, in which Imelda is the one who gets cursed in 1942, after Ernesto's death, and visit the Land of the Dead to find out the truth (Elegy isn't a retelling of the movie, but follows a similar plot). Or Shaken by How Long it Took, an actual retelling of Coco, but with an important canon-divergence: Miguel found the wedding photo of Héctor and Imelda years ago (with Ernesto as padrino) and he knows since the beginning Héctor is his great-great-grandpa. This fic is sooo sweet and heartwarming, because both Héctor and Miguel develop a beautiful relationship. Fluff and family bonding.
Other examples are The search for the Female Mariachi, with a role switch between Héctor and Imelda (so she was the one who left and the one who guides Miguel in the Land of the Dead). Or Miguel, a fic with a complex multi role swaps (still on-going). And I'm sure there are more that I've missed.
The last one I've read is Rosa's Journey, a fic that FINALLY follows a plot I was eager to find: Rosa's the one who goes to the Land of the Dead, instead of Miguel. I've been thinking about it a lot. How would've Coco been if the main character was Rosa? I got very excited with Rosa's Journey, though the role switch isn't just between Miguel and Rosa, but between Héctor and Imelda as well (she's the one who left, again). There's a completely new villain, too: Ernesto doesn't exists and Imelda's colleague is a woman named Earlina de Paula. I've loved this fic and, to be honest, it's been a pleasure to read a Coco retelling with female characters in all the main roles (except for Héctor, obviously).
But this last fic let me thinking… what about a Coco retelling in which the only difference is who goes to the Land of the Dead? I mean, what about a Coco retelling in which Rosa goes to the Land of the Dead, but there's no actual role switch? Miguel is the one who wanna be a musician, he's the one who runs away, he's the one who's about to steal de la Cruz's guitar… but then, Rosa follows him, catches him in the cemetery and almost by mistake gets cursed by picking the guitar for Miguel. How many things would've changed then?
The idea got stronger and stronger, because it's a kind of story I would love to read. Rosa loves music too, but she loves and admires her family. She despises her great-great-grandpa for being a jerk. She doesn't idolize de la Cruz. She's sassy, funny, smart, sharp. So what kind of relationship would she develop with Héctor, who's salty, sarcastic, has no more fucks to give and also despises de la Cruz? I mean… wouldn't they be the perfect duo?! I've realized the relationship between Héctor and Miguel in the movie is kind of tense most of the time, because the kid adores Ernesto and Héctor doesn't want to disappoint him but knows the true face of that fucker. But if the kid had been a bit warier about Ernesto, their bond could've been very different. And, let’s be honest: taking care of Rosa would remind Héctor of Coco ALL THE TIME.
So I couldn't help but start writing my own retelling, because I couldn't stop thinking about it. In this story, Rosa lives the adventure that was meant for her cousin. The motivations and relationships between characters are very different. She meets a family she loves, she finds herself forced to look for a great-great-grandpa she despises and joins a trickster who has a lot in common with her. And it's being a joy. I'm writing it in a row (7 chapters by now, I'm in the battle of the bands) and I'd love to post it when I finish. But I wanted to share a little bit, because I'm enjoying it very much. So, if you're interest, here's a sneak peek of chapter 4, when Rosa and Héctor meet each other :D
Before reading: please, remember English is not my mother tongue and this is actually the first time in my life I write fiction directly in English (instead of translating something previously written in Spanish). Though I've been a writer for 20 years now, I'm not good at English. This is the first draft and it hasn't been revised. I have no beta readers, either. So any kind of tip, feedback or whatever would be very appreciate. Enjoy! :)
(...)
She thought she had lost him in the crowd, but spotted him again very quickly. It wouldn’t be possible to get too far with that limp, though he strode across the gallery with firm determination. He was crumpling the officer's warning and throwing it aside.
"Hey! Hey!" Rosa sprinted to him. "You, err… ¡señor! Do you really know de la Cruz?"
The man huffed loudly and began to turn. "Yeah, who wants to—" Then he saw her and shrieked so stridently it seemed to echo around the whole hall. "Y-YOU'RE ALIVE!"
Forget the curse: she was going to die tonight by a heart attack. Blind by the panic rush, she grabbed the man by the suspenders and pulled him rudely into a near phone booth to get out of sight. He pressed himself against the farthest corner, still as scared as if he'd just found himself trapped there with a chupacabras instead of a girl. He seemed about to start screaming again and she was going to throw up, seriously, she was going to.
"Stop yelling, por Dios!" she demanded frantically. "Sí, I'm alive! And just in case you haven't notice, I shouldn't be here right now! I'm in a big trouble and need de la Cruz's blessing to go back home in the Land of the Living!"
"You need— You just— Wait, what?" He was babbling, but then frowned. "Wait there, that's weirdly specific…"
Rosa grunted in frustration, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. Okay, this needed a direct approach. "He's my… great-great-grandfather."
"He's your WHAT?!"
"STOP YELLING!" She shook him, so on edge she didn't even notice she was shouting herself. "I need his blessing now, okay? A family blessing! I just wanna know if you can help me or not!"
"Okay, okay, okay, wait." He waved a hand to shush her and looked aside, a deeper frown shadowing his face as he focused on his thoughts. Some very complex thoughts, it seemed. "Wait, wait, waitwaitwait…" He started tapping on his chin, as if trying to figure something out, and Rosa started tapping her foot impatiently.
"Look, I don't have much time."
"It can't… but what if…"
"Could you just answer my question, ple—?"
"Yes. Yes!" He brightened up and flashed a wide smile at her. "Yes, you're going back to the Land of the Living!"
"No, I'm not, if we spent the whole night here!" Rosa put her hands on her hips, but then noticed his wild expression and grimaced. This guy's mind seemed to be racing even faster than her own, no brakes. Perhaps he had already lost it in full. "Aaand now it's when I start regretting all of this…"
"Nononono, listen up, niña!" He bent down a little, snapping his fingers under her nose. "I can help you, but you can help me too! I can help you, you can help me, we can help each other, but most importantly, you can help me!"
"Whoa…" Rosa couldn't but stare at him, raising an eyebrow. "And I thought I was desperate…"
He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, his shoulders drooping. "Oh, you've noticed? How sharp!" Okay, that sounded far too salty. "Desperate is my second name, chamaca, nice to meet you."
"That's not very comforting…"
"Hey, hey, hey, look at the bright side! Since I'm desperate to cross over, I'm also desperate to get you to go home! Take it as a guarantee of my honesty, I'll help you!"
She narrowed her eyes, too. The guy was really something, but he didn't seem dangerous, despite his ragged appearance. Rosa was used to identify and avoid creepy men; they all had some kind of energy around them that gave her bad vibes just by being close. But this one just looked like… Miguel. A taller, older Miguel, as harmless as her cousin. She knew she couldn't trust a stranger and she would keep her eyes open, but maybe this could actually work. She glanced at Dante, checking for approval, and the dog was so calm she relaxed a bit.
"Okay then, don Despair." She shot him a smug gaze. "And what's your first one?"
"Héctor." He smiled and offered her his hand.
"I'm Rosa." She shook it and kept the grip to pull him out the booth. "And we're going right now, because I'm chased."
"That's new." She could hear his frown even without looking at him. "Chased by whom?"
But there was no time for explanations. Rosa had just put her feet in the hall, when a well-known female voice called out her name from the distance. She finally spotted her family far away, rushing down the staircase of the upper platform. And the punch of stress and dread hit her hard again, making her heart jump and her stomach twist.
"¡Ay, Dios! Come on, come on, COME ON!!"
She pushed Héctor to the exit, ignoring his complaints, and the three of them bolted to the street. They zipped through the revolving doors so fast that several skeletons broke apart as they slammed against the glass. But she couldn't stop now. Rosa leaped down the steps of the stairway in pairs, with the clack, clack, clack of Héctor's footsteps tripping at her side. Dante passed them by and threw himself into the crowd that filled the place, disappearing between legs and skirts. Too many people, too many. Rosa collided with some passersby who yelled at her, and she babbled apologies and turned around again and again, increasingly disoriented and scared, surrounded by unknown skeletal faces and too bright colors. She was already panting frantically.
"Dante!" she cried out in distress.
"Don't get lost, chamaca!" And suddenly Héctor was at her side, one hand keeping his hat on his head and the other one gripping her wrist to drag her across the plaza. "Over there!"
Rosa had only two seconds to peek over her shoulder one last time, to the Station. She couldn't see her family anywhere. If something went wrong, how…?
Dios, what I am doing?
They rushed together down more stairs and loped off through a few side streets, in that never-ending getaway. At last, they reached an empty, arched alley, far darker and quieter. He finally let go of her hand there, puffing.
"Whoa, that felt like a breakout. You're chased by the authorities, by any chance?" He gave her a questioning look. "Not that I mind, you know, and I know better than to ask unpleasant questions, but this is—" He trailed off when he saw her face and his little smile faded. "Oye, oye, ¿chamaca?"
Rosa wasn't listening. With her back against the alley's wall, she fought to catch her breath, shaking. This was madness. What a mess. Her heart seemed to be fiercely beating in her throat, and she could still see Mamá Imelda's eyes on her with that furious frown. Oh, Dios, she had just run away from Mamá Imelda! From Mamá Imelda! Had she lost her mind? She gaped in horror and cupped her own face, panic bubbling inside her chest once more.
"Hey, chamaca!" Héctor was snapping his fingers again to wake her up. "You okay?"
Her last bit of self-control cracked. "Do I look like I'm okay?!" Rosa shouted in a high-pitched voice, hyperventilating now. "I'm frigging cursed and I'm in the frigging Land of the Dead and I have to find a frigging celebrity before sunrise or I'll be frigging dead and— Oh, Dios, I can see my finger bones already, I CAN SEE MY FRIGGING FINGER BONES!!"
"Rosa!" Héctor grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly. "Calm down! No yelling, remember? Stop the 'frigging' thing. It's okay, you're gonna be okay. You looked so clear-headed a moment ago it was almost a bit scary, you know. I'm sure you can handle this. You have a plan, right? Just focus."
He talked as if she wasn't right before him in a full panic and he knew her since forever, both things untrue. But his voice was soothing and sounded very reasonable. It reminded her of Tía Victoria and the way she had calmed her down in the cemetery an… hour ago? Two? It seemed like a lifetime. You're a very sensible little woman with a lot of common sense inside that head… Would Tía Vico still think that way? She didn't think so. Rosa groaned and buried her face in her fists. Breathe in, breathe out. Dante pressed himself against her leg and nuzzled her thigh, whining. His warm was comforting, and her pulse began to steady. Yeah, panic wouldn't help her to go back home. She had to focus. She had made a decision and she had to think how many things were at stake. She had to keep cold-head and make this work, whatever it costed.
She had to get de la Cruz's blessing.
"Sí," she whispered finally, and then she straightened up and looked Héctor in the eye. "Sí, I have a plan."
"Great!" He smiled reassuringly. "We'll make it, chamaca. Don't worry, sí?"
Rosa nodded and swallowed. "Gracias. Sorry, I just…" She tried to elaborate, but gave up with a grunt. "That… pinche Miguel!"
"Miguel?"
"Mi primo." Rosa took off her glasses and pressed a palm over her eyes for a moment, praying for her headache to give her a break. "He was about to do a very stupid thing and I tried to stop him. Then I did a very stupid thing and got myself stuck in here. Everything's been a roller coaster since then, I feel as if running for hours. But enough of that. How do we get to de la Cruz?"
"Hey, hey, slow down!" Héctor looked suspiciously hesitant. "First of all, we should do something about all that… that…" He waved towards her, from head to toe. "All that flesh of you. We won't get far if you don't blend in, you need a disguise. Got any makeup or face paint? Something we can use?"
Rosa rushed to unzip her pockets and sighted in relief when she found her little brothers' face paint still there. She only had white and black, and the old red lipstick of Tía Gloria, but that was enough. Héctor gave her a nod of approval and led her up the alley, till they found some crates and took a seat. Dante sat by their side and watched them closely, so incredibly happy again. The dog had relaxed after fleeing the Station and seemed very at ease around the stranger. Rosa took it as a good sign. Even if Héctor was a trickster, he had made a point before: his priority was crossing over the bridge, that much was obvious, so it was unlikely he could mean any harm. There was no point in hurting the only person who could help you.
"Hold still, hold still," Héctor murmured, so focused on her makeup that Rosa straightened up and held her pose. The quietness was very welcome after all the stress, she didn't mind the pause at all. But it was also pretty surreal to be sitting there, with a skeleton painting her face just as Tía Gloria would've done if she hadn't ended in that crazy place.
Perhaps she had just knocked herself out by falling from de la Cruz's sepulcro and was hallucinating the entire thing.
She really hoped so.
A few minutes later, Héctor finally looked satisfied. "Ta-da! The perfect calaverita!" He took a small mirror out of his pocket and held it in front of her. Rosa put on her glasses again and whistled in disbelief, actually impressed. It was a regular calavera makeup, but he'd got creative with the lipstick and had drawn beautiful patterns in her cheeks and around her brows. "Wait, no hood?" he added, peeking over her shoulder to the jacket's back.
"Err… no."
Héctor sighed dramatically. "Ay, okay, your hair. Let it down, we must hide those ears."
Rosa obeyed and he quickly parted her hair in two halves for a twin braids hairdo. He worked so fast, so I-know-perfectly-what-I'm-doing, that she couldn't help whistling again. "You know, you look pretty skilled at braiding," she scoffed.
Héctor chuckled, though his smile seemed a little bittersweet. "I used to make a lot of braids, a long, long time ago. Got any other—?" Rosa held up a second rubber band before he asked for it. "Girls, always ready."
"I must, with this hair."
"This hair's gonna save your day, chamaca." He arranged the braids to cover her ears and put back her diadem as if crowning her. "Okay, ya está. That diadema will keep them in place. Collar up! Perfect, I think we're done. Just…" He looked thoughtfully at her legs. "We should get a skirt. Long to the ankles."
"Oye, how old are you?" Rosa complained, and put her hands on her hips again in annoyance. "Now you talk like my abuela!"
"If Ernesto is actually you're great-great-grandpa, I assure you I'm old enough to be your great-great-grandpa too." Héctor pouted and crossed his arms. "But the point is we can't paint your fleshy legs. Can you unfold that hem?"
Grumbling under her breath, Rosa tried to pull the cuffed hem of her capri jeans as down as she could. It was disturbing to see the curse creeping up her legs, her feet fully skeletal by then like ominous ankle socks.
"Okay, now listen to me, Rosa: this world is not much different from your own, so here are the golden rules." Héctor lifted three fingers. "Stay close, don't get lost and never follow any weird guy to any weird place."
She shot him a dry glare. "You serious?" she blurted out. "I'm in a really weird place with a really weird guy right now!"
"This doesn't count!" He waved a hand dismissively. "We have a deal! And I would never harm a fly, far less a little girl or any other human being."
"Right the kind of thing a weird guy would say." Rosa rolled her eyes. "Look, I can take care of myself, don't worry about that."
"Oh? And how you—?"
He couldn't finish. As fast as light, she took off one of her flats and swatted him hard in the cheekbone. So hard that his skull spun around. Héctor shirked and grabbed his head to stop it, looking at her with wide, dumbfounded eyes.
"You'll never see me coming." Rosa gave him a smug smile and a sassy shrug, before putting her flat on.
"That…" He was speechless. "That felt familiar…"
"Did it?" She raised an eyebrow. "How many women have hit you with their shoes?"
"Just one, but she hit hard enough to be unforgettable." For a tiny moment, he seemed about to smile fondly, but covered it with a cough. "Okay, okay, I trust you, so back to business! There's something important you must understand, Rosa. This place runs on memories. If you're well remembered, people put up your photo and you get to cross the bridge and visit the living on Día de Muertos." He put a hand on his chest with a tense smile. "As you've probably notice by now, that's not my case."
"You've never crossed over?" She frowned, getting serious.
"No one's ever put up my picture. But you can change that!" He took an old photo out from his inner pocket and handed it to her. It was black and white, with a young living Héctor who looked a very little older than her own big brother. His eyes were big and bright, and his smile seemed to cross his whole sharp-angled face. She scanned it intently, feeling that something was off but not getting what. Dios, how old actually was that guy? How old was he when he died?
"So… this is you."
"Muy guapo, eh?" he joked, waving his brows.
Rosa snorted. "So you want me to put up your photo on my family's ofrenda when I get home… in exchange of getting me to my great-great-grandpa."
"Well, yeah, about that…" Oh, no, that suspicious hesitation again. "Actually, de la Cruz is a tough guy to get to, and I need to cross that bridge soon. Like tonight. So, you got any other family here? You know, someone a bit more… ehh, accessible?"
Rosa stared at him, poker-faced. She couldn't think about her family without fretting again, but she couldn't afford another panic attack either. Héctor was really desperate; if he found out she'd just run away from her relatives, they would never make their way to de la Cruz. He could even try to take her back to the Station right away. So she hardened her look and narrowed her eyes, in what she hoped to look like an 'are-you-frigging-kidding-me' expression.
"What part of 'I need de la Cruz's blessing' you didn't get?" she hissed, trying her best to look offended. "Did you really think I'd be here if I had another option? It's de la Cruz's or nothing!" Rolling her eyes with a lot of drama, she huffed and pushed the photo against Héctor's chest. "I should've guessed you only wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible. Well then, don Despair! I won't bother you anymore, good luck with your bridge. Let's go, Dante!"
She stood up and strode away.
"Wha— Waitwaitwait!" Rosa was already half way to the alley's entry. "Argh! Okay, okay, niña, fine! Fine! I'll get you to your great-great-grandpa!"
Rosa stopped and waited while Héctor trotted towards her, limping. When he reached her, she flashed him a bright smile.
"Lead the way, guapo," she teased.
Héctor pouted again. "You're pretty terrible, you know that?"
“I give you my blessing, Imelda“
—Elegy, by @dogbearinggifts
Elegy is almost over and I needed to thank its author for this wonderful journey. I’ve loved this fic and I’m sure I’m gonna love the last chapters. But this moment was just too much for me.
Me: I’m not going to do fanarts of Coco, I don’t know how to draw in that rounded Disney style, it’s going to be a pain.
Also me: *sketching till 1:00 am*
Ok, I just desperately NEEDED to draw Héctor and Imelda as kids, because these two as childhood friends are my jam and it will never be enough of this out there (please gimme more 12 yo Imector). Miguel is also there because I wanted to practice the Disney rounded style with him first. It was easier (and funnier) than I thought, so goodbye fanart ban and welcome messy sketches.
I love Imelda’s teeth, btw. And Héctor’s. And Miguel’s. Everybody’s teeth are great in this movie :’D
I remember that feeling... when my husband would play, and I would sing and nothing else mattered.
—Coco, 2017.
Let me tell you about the best Imector pun ever (though it doesn't work in English, but in Spanish).
In Spanish, "to play music" is "tocar música", but "tocar" also means "to touch". So, when Imelda says that "When my husband would play, I would sing" (Cuando mi esposo tocaba, yo cantaba) it can also be a subtle way to say "when my husband would touch, I would sing". And I'm screaming, because I love it and I'm sure it was an inner joke/private pun between them during their… err, intimate moments XD
"TOUCH" SOMETHING, HÉCTOR! MAKE HER SING! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Drawing and WIPs as a late birthday present for our dear skeldad. Happy birthday, Héctor! :D
I’ve spent the whole week babysitting my 3 years old nephew and I’ve come back with a lot of auntie feelings, so... here’s a younger tía Vicky being a tía, with her tía duties XD
I never thought this would be my second Coco fanart, but hell, I’m totally into the ace-aro Victoria headcanon. I always pictured her like an aromantic asexual, and got very happy when I found out I wasn’t the only one.
This fanart’s missing aro colors, because I’m not sure which flag is the official one (with the gray strip or with the orange strip? are both equally accepted?) and I didn’t know how to combine all colors without overdo the composition. But please, remember my Vico is also aro to the bones XD
The “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a fuck” joke is something I always use during Asexual Awareness Week in October. I couldn’t help using it here, too :D I think it fits Vico pretty well, LOL.
