JVL
Sweet Seals For You, Always
hello vonnie
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Jules of Nature
Stranger Things
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Discoholic đŞŠ
Misplaced Lens Cap
cherry valley forever
titsay
oozey mess
Andulka
@theartofmadeline
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Love Begins
Three Goblin Art
â
d e v o n
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
seen from Malaysia
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seen from Morocco
seen from Malaysia
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@willheshoemaker-blog
Temporary hiatus!
Sorry for being gone so long!
My computer broke and my phone screenâs broken so thatâs holding me back.
I also have a job now, so itâs consuming my time, but I WILL come back! I have several days off next week and I can try to use those to do very overdue replies/starters and whatnot.
Again Iâm so sorry.
It was just one week away, before the celebration of the dead holiday arrived. The town was decorating for the festivities and Oliver was excited. Not about the holiday but about the music. He was loved music but his family forbade it. His family made shoes. He was a ten year old boy who was adopted by Miguelâs family. He was in his room one day and humming to himself.
âOliver!â Miguel called, peeking his head in to the room. He held up his finger to his lips, urging the other boy to be quiet. He couldnât just sit around singing with the door wide open! He was asking to get yelled at!
âDo you want Abuelita to hear you? Sheâll get mad at you!â The other of the two stepped in to the room, closing the door behind him. âYou gotta be careful about that kind of thing, Oli!â
@musicianinlifefatherindeath
Miguel made sure to keep quiet as he tiptoed out of the house. He was barefoot, not wanting to put shoes on because the thought they would make too much noise and he didn't want to wake his parents or the rest of his family as he snuck outside.
Once he was able to successfully get out without making a sound, he quickly jogged across the courtyard between his house and the Rivera shoe shoppe, motioning for Dante, who had been asleep outside but was now awakened by the boy, to be quiet as they made their way trough the workshop and to the back room, where he'd last left his guitar. He'd been playing for his family while the worked earlier that day.
It was the middle of the night now, though, and most everyone was asleep except for him. He just couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried, and when counting sheep hadn't worked for him, he decided to go get his guitar. Maybe playing for a little bit would help him settle down. And, just as he expected, his guitar was in the back room.
But he had not expected it to be in the skeletal arms of someone else. More specifically, his great great grandfather.
"Papå Hèctor?"
based on this
the joke is that ernesto doesnât have any other friends
willheshoemaker:
âWhat do you mean you missed the bridge back home?â
Miguel rubbed his eyes, then blinked a few more times, as if he still couldnât quite believe that Hèctor was right in front of him. He had been up all night, even if his little sister had fallen asleep halfway through his little performance for his one-woman(baby)-audience. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him, or heâd fallen asleep and he was now dreaming.
âDidnât mama Imelda tell you when it was time to leave?â She seemed like the kind of woman to keep track of all of her familia. Hadnât she told Hector when it was time to go back to the land of the dead? Surely she hadâŚ
   â AAAHHH ⌠WELL âŚÂ â HERE, HĂŠctorâs voice trailed off and he glanced off to the side, a guilty, horribly sheepish look on his face.
   IN TRUTH, MIGUEL had hit the nail on the head with his question. Not only had Imelda informed him of when it would be necessary to return to the Land of the Dead, but she had urged him to come back with her, knowing that he hadnât experienced many visits like this on his own. Sheâd tried her best to ensure that he arrived and departed without incident, and what had he done? Well, in typical HĂŠctor fashion, it seemed that heâd made rather a MESS of everything, thatâs what.
   SIDESTEPPING THE QUESTION a bit, HĂŠctor awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and said, â She might have MENTIONED it, sĂ. Briefly. But â ah â thatâs not my point! Listen, muchacho, what does it matter how I got stuck? Weâve just gotta figure out how to get me BACK, right? â He had the distinct feeling that he couldnât stick around for too terribly long, after all; after witnessing firsthand what being in the Land of the Dead had done to Miguel, he could only assume that there would be CONSEQUENCES for he himself, too.
"Let me guess...you didn't listen to her?"
He couldn't help the small smirk that appeared on his face at that. He was probably right, too!
"Well, when I went to the Land of the Dead, I started turning in to a skeleton, butâŚI don't think you're gonna turn in to a living man. At least, you don't look like you are."
He wasn't sure how they could get Hector back to the other side, and it probably didn't work the same way it did when he got transported to the land of the deadâŚbut they could try.
"Maybe you can wait until night time and see if the bridge comes back? Or, I couldâŚgive you my blessing?"
The last question was drawn out, showing that he doubted the idea would work in the first place. He was only 13, he didn't know much about life or death, but he didn't think the alive-people had more power over their ancestors.
ÂĄBienvenido a la plaza De la Cruz! ( x )
baby: *incomprehensible babbling*
me: WHAT!? really??? no way :0
willheshoemaker
Miguel finally let go of Dante, soft smile making itâs way on to his now reddened face.
As long as he didnât stay too long, right? As long as he got back to his body eventuallyâŚ
âI can stay here for longer than one night this time?â
This time, there was no De La Cruz to worry about, no sunrise to race against, and no one was on the verge of crossing over in to the final deathâat least not if they stayed away from ImeldaâŚbut there was not possible way Miguel was gonna wander the Land of the Dead without seeing her. Heâd missed her, and the others, as much as heâd missed Hèctor.
If he had the time, he wasnât gonna hesitate to get caught up on all the things he didnât have a chance to share with Hèctor the first time around. Maybe he could pick up a few guitar techniques, and maybe a singing tip or twoâŚ
Maybe there was a chance to make this trip fun after all. âSĂ. I think so, Miguelito. You arenât cursed this time.â Which meant he, oddly, had more time with his great great grandson. Something heâd wanted, but not so soon. The boy was so young- much younger than heâd ever hoped to see him. But, Miguel was not dead and Hèctor held out hope that he would be saved.
It was worrisome, but he didnât let it show. It wouldnât help Miguel to see his papĂĄ worry. He shook his bones out, rattling against one another as he replaced his worried expression with a smile.
He reached out a hand, settling it against the boyâs head, threading bony digits through strands of black hair. He ruffled gently, messing up the usually neat style. âOye, mijo. It looks like itâs you and me again, eh?â He couldnât hide the hint of happiness breaking through the sorrow in his voice. âNo use thinking about the worst, eh? What do you want to do first?â His smile was warm and comforting. âAnything you want.â
"PapĂĄ!"
He pushed Hèctor's arm away with one hand, and used the other to try and frantically brush his now messy hair back in to place.
"You messed up my hair! I had it styled perfectly! Es un desastre!"
Once he was partially satisfied with his hair no longer sticking up in every direction, being sure to pat down the top, sides, and back of his head to make his hair sit, he smiled to himself. Playfully, he reached up to grab the rim of Hèctor's hat and pull it down over the skeleton's face.
"First, I want to see MamĂĄ Imelda!"
They had more than enough time. He knew she wouldn't like the fact that Miguel ended up in the Land of the Dead again. But, she also wouldn't like it if she found out later on that he was here, and nobody told her.
"Don't look at me like that, I missed her too!"
willheshoemaker:
@stolensongs || starter ||
âThis isnât a dream, is it?â
Shocked by the appearance of the skeleton man before him, Miguel lifted a hand to give himself a harsh smack to his own face. Then promptly repeated the motion with his other hand, and the other side of his face, in hopes that if he was dreaming, the action would wake him.
When that didnât work, he cautiously reached up as high as he could to deliver a light smack to Hèctorâs face.
âNope. Youâre definitely real!â
The feeling of smooth bone beneath his hand was enough to tell him that. As much as Miguel wanted to leap for joy at the sight of his great great grandfather, he also wanted to know why he was seeing said great great grandfather. He hadnât died, as far as he knewâhe would have remembered if he had, heâs sure of it.
âBut, Papa HèctorâŚwhat are you doing here?â
   JUST ONCE, HĂCTOR would like to experience a DĂa de Muertos that came with no complications or adverse effects, nothing to come back and bite him in the rear. Heâd actually, until now, had a pretty good streak in that regard â two whole years where heâd been able to cross the bridge without incident, visit with his family, and then return, smoothly as that. But tonight, the universe or whatever powers-at-be ( or, perhaps, just his own foolishness ) seemed to think that his good luck couldnât last TOO long.
   THE SUN WAS rising in the Land of the Living, and HÊctor was hopelessly stuck.
   HE SUPPOSED THAT he should have listened to Imeldaâs urging all along. Sheâd done this more often than him, after all, and knew of the MISHAPS that could arise if rules and traditions werenât expressly followed. Sheâd tried to tell him to get a move on, to hurry up so they could all get home without incident, and what had he told her? You go on, querida, Iâll catch up. Heâd just wanted to stay with his great-great grandson, even if Miguel couldnât see him, for just a few more minutes â the kid had been playing a brand-new song to his little sister, and HĂŠctor had been so proud of the progress heâd made. It hadnât occurred to him that heâd lost track of time until it was too late.
   HEâD BEEN TRYING to quietly sneak out of Miguelâs room â all he needed was to get back home to the Land of the Dead, and there was no need to trouble his grandson to do that â when a familiar voice had stopped him in his tracks. HĂŠctor tensed, surprised as well as worried; then, very slowly, he turned around, his facial expression torn between bemusement and sheepishness.
   â CHAMACO â â
   SCARCELY HAD THE word left his skeletal mouth than did the rest of his sentence get cut off as Miguel gave him an abrupt little slap to the face. Affronted, he gave his head a little shake and reached up to lightly swat the boyâs hand away. â Ay, ay! Hands to yourself â Iâm real, Iâm real. â Now that the initial surprise of their unexpected reunion had started to ebb a bit, HĂŠctorâs facial expression softened a bit, and though the smile that touched his features was somewhat strained, it was genuine all the same. â It is good to see you, Miguel, â he said, â but, uh â well, thatâs the question I have, actually. How can you see me? â
   WITH A SIGH, he reached up and thoughtfully, nervously rubbed the back of his neck. â Listen â hereâs the thing. I ⌠kind of ⌠missed the bridge back home. â
"What do you mean you missed the bridge back home?"
Miguel rubbed his eyes, then blinked a few more times, as if he still couldn't quite believe that Hèctor was right in front of him. He had been up all night, even if his little sister had fallen asleep halfway through his little performance for his one-woman(baby)-audience. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him, or he'd fallen asleep and he was now dreaming.
"Didn't mama Imelda tell you when it was time to leave?" She seemed like the kind of woman to keep track of all of her familia. Hadn't she told Hector when it was time to go back to the land of the dead? Surely she had...
(( *shyly waves at the mun* ))
[[ Ęâ˘á´Ľâ˘Ę hello]]
;;
I am here! I bought the Coco novel (which has some extra stuff in it that was not in the movie) and have been reading that for inspiration! I still have some starters to do, but my train of thought has hit a brick wall, so if you liked my starter call and I haven't got to you yet, and if you have any ideas for threads, don't be afraid to tell me! I'm up for anything!
I'll even do some crack threads or fluff if you wanna
niĂąos these days, so emotionalâŚ
(feel free to step forward to criticize any butchering of Spanish here)
she protec
;;
Sorry for disappearing for like 10 days! I'm trying to get my college stuff sorted out and it's taking long and I'm also broke and trying to get a job so my time got consumed but I am here and I still love my boy!!!!!
HĂŠctor, as a newlywed: And this is my ex-girlfriend, Imelda.
Imelda: I told you to stop saying that!
Imelda: Iâm his wife.
@stolensongs || starter ||
"This isn't a dream, is it?"
Shocked by the appearance of the skeleton man before him, Miguel lifted a hand to give himself a harsh smack to his own face. Then promptly repeated the motion with his other hand, and the other side of his face, in hopes that if he was dreaming, the action would wake him.
When that didn't work, he cautiously reached up as high as he could to deliver a light smack to Hèctor's face.
"Nope. You're definitely real!"
The feeling of smooth bone beneath his hand was enough to tell him that. As much as Miguel wanted to leap for joy at the sight of his great great grandfather, he also wanted to know why he was seeing said great great grandfather. He hadn't died, as far as he knewâhe would have remembered if he had, he's sure of it.
"But, Papa HèctorâŚwhat are you doing here?"
