#This had to be in Spanish because I can't express my frustration right in English

[crimson-moonflowers]

Lo que más PERRO CORAJE ME DA es que la pinche morra que enfermó a medio grupo por toser sin taparse y traer el cubrebocas como hamaca de papada ahorita anda como si nada.

Lmao do I really feel like crying because I'm mad at being sick?

[stransberries]

i am so frustrated and i need to rant without having to make any sense (i am not a native english speaker but i just can't express myself in spanish right now) or without feeling pressured that my irl's will see it but i am really worried about my little sister. she is 8 years old, and turns 9 this year and she's been having trouble at school and i want to help her without y'know traumatizing her by using conventional latino forms of parenting and correcting that include (but are not limited to) yelling and all of that. i want her to be confident about her skills and how much she has improved in those years in school but i feel like i can't do anything because i don't know how to. i'd like to take her to a psychologist because i have a slight suspicion she might be showing signs of adhd since it seems she can't concentrate in class, and she's had a really bad reaction to negative feedback in school (i can't blame her for it really, because i know school isn't easy and the system is fucked up) and i feel like her confidence and self-esteem being low is part of the reason why she's failing in things like reading out loud in front of her current teacher (that says she's bad at reading and needs practice, while another teacher from tha same school says she's actually pretty good at it); and as a whole, she just seems a bit too inattentive and hyperactive to me but i can't diagnose her since i am not a professional, neither i have the money to pay to take her to a psychologist, and a lot of professionals in venezuela still rely on outdated info (like this one teacher at her school that says she can't possibly have adhd without further examination only because she can pay attention sometimes not realizing that not all kids with adhd are inattentive 24/7). all of this is really fucked up and i am honestly not okay with the fact that i just don't know how to help her, i feel like i'm not trying enough and that if i really wanted to i could help her. school isn't easy, i know because, just like her, i struggled with visual problems (we haven't been able to help her with that either cause we're struggling economically) and i also struggled with not writing fast enough, sometimes it was difficult to pay attention too but it really wasn't too often i used to be a really smart and quiet kid at her age, so i didn't have to struggle with being disliked by the teachers. i am probably neurodivergent but i've never gotten diagnosed with anything since i haven't had professional help, my mother is probably neurodivergent too but i don't know exactly what we could be or if it affects in any way in the fact thag my sister probably is too and idk. i just don't know, i don't even know how to tag this, i just want to be seen, heard. i need tips on making my sister's life easier, i need help to help her survive school so if anyone has tips for me to help her i'd really appreciate it

[alj4890]

Picture Prompt Request

(Matt Rodriguez x Addison Sinclaire) with the picture prompt

As requested by @krsnlove

Matt x Addison in a Choices Red Carpet Diaries drabble

A/N My bff took my picture prompt and quickly wrote something amazing. Gotta return the favor. Going back to book 2 of RCD when Matt had his accident for this one. Not quite sure why I thought of this with the picture. And forgive me if I mess up the Spanish terms. I took French in High School and college. So...hello Google translate 😂

Masterlist

Mi cielito means "my little sky" and is an endearment usually used by grandparents according to my research.

Song: All I Have to Do Is Dream

Dreaming

It stopped. How strange. First there was the sensation of falling. Then agony. Not one part of my body was without pain. Then blessed unconsciousness. But then someone brought me to just to ask me questions. Broken English with a heavy Russian accent isn't the easiest to comprehend when every single nerve in your body is screaming. I think they mentioned a surgery about to happen. Now I have peaceful nothingness.

Matt decided this void was just what he needed. He might never leave. It was certainly better than the alternative.

"¿Mi cielito?" A soft, sweet voice drifted through the darkness.

Matt turned toward the sound he immediately recognized. It couldn't be. His precious abuela had died nearly fifteen years ago.

"It is you." A woman with silver streaked black hair approached him. A warm light followed her, chasing away the blackness surrounding him. "My handsome Mateo."

Matt shaded his eyes. "Ita?" He whispered the endearment in disbelief.

The short lady stopped a few feet from him and held her arms out. Her beautiful smile that he had inheirted formed. He blinked back tears and ran to embrace her.

"Mi cielito!" She exclaimed again, cupping his face between her hands. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm not sure." He looked around now seeing what looked like a courtyard of some sort they were standing in. A fountain gurgled nearby. "Where are we?"

She studied their surroundings. "It looks like my old home." She spun around, laughing. "Mateo, we are where I grew up!" Her rich, brown eyes met his. "Remember when I took you to San Felipe when you were eight years old?"

He nodded. "I do. Dad had to film a movie and you decided we should go on an adventure."

She beamed at him. Her brow slowly crinkled in thought the longer they looked around. "Why are we here?"

"I don't know." Matt rubbed his forehead as he searched his memories. "The last thing I can remember clearly is falling."

"¡¿Qué?!" She gently touched his face and then his arms. "Where are you hurt?"

He chuckled at her fussing over him. "Ita, I think from the height I fell, that I am hurt pretty much everywhere."

She shook her head as tears formed. "You shouldn't be here." She chewed on her lip while plucking at the bottom of her blouse. "Muy joven."

Matt took her hand and led her to sit with him at the fountain. "Ita, I'm sure the doctors are doing all they can."

She hmphed. "Then perhaps you are here for something else." She seemed to cheer at that thought. "Tell me, mi cielito, what is your life like?"

He grinned and explained his film career and friends.

She waved her hand impatiently. "No, no, no! Am I a bisabuela?"

"Ita!" He shook his head. "I haven't settled down yet."

"¿Que es esto? My grandson hasn't married yet?" She nearly screeched. She grasped his chin and turned his face to the left and right. "Impossible. You should have women falling over themselves to marry you."

He couldn't stop smiling at her. "I haven't married because I haven't found the right person."

She tilted her head in that disconcerting way that always made him think she could read his thoughts. "You have, mi precioso niño."

"Ita." He sighed. "She doesn't think of me like that."

"Did you ask her?" She asked.

He shook his head.

She exaggerated a groan and muttered a few insults in Spanish before facing him. She didn't bother to hide her frustration. "My grandson does not let chances go by." She stated firmly. "Now show me this woman."

His brow furrowed. "How?"

She tapped his forehead. "There used to something in there."

He snorted with laughter. "Alright, Ita. Her name is Addison." He closed his eyes while a smile formed. "She has long, golden hair. A pair of the most striking blue eyes I have ever seen. Her smile is warm and enchanting. She is even sweeter than she looks, and--"

"Oh." Ita's whisper of surprise made him open his eyes.

Matt's eyes widened at Addison standing before them. She was wearing a ballgown of shimmery gold that only highlighted her tanned skin, sunstreaked hair, and eyes that he usually found himself lost in.

Addison looked down at herself. "I love my dress you picked for me." She did a few twirls, smiling at the sparkly effect it had with the setting sunlight shining upon it.

Matt's grandmother noticed the darkening sky and attempted to keep her tears from falling. "Our time grows short, Mateo." She pulled him up and led him to Addison. "You must tell her what is in here." She pressed her hand against his chest.

Matt noticed he was in a tux. "Where did--"

She shushed him. "My doing." She smiled at him. "Now, let me see you dance with her as you would during your wedding."

"Ita--"

"¡Espere!" She held a golden tiara in her hands. "Your bride must wear my grandmother's bridal crown." She placed it on Addison's bent head and stepped back to study her. "Perfecta."

"There's no music, Ita." Matt reminded her. "How am I supposed to--"

A melody seemed to come from the very stars that were beginning to appear in the sky. His grandmother would choose The Everly Brothers' song, All I Have to Do Is Dream. He could remember catching her dancing to it with his grandfather in the kitchen.

And the song did seem quite appropriate under the circumstances.

He gazed down at the vision of Addison and smiled.

She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips while they slow danced.

He held her close as the sky darkened. He glanced at his grandmother and saw her with an expression of pure joy on her face. As the shadows fell across the courtyard, she blew him a kiss.

"Remember to tell her, mi cielito." She said while disappearing.

Addison pressed another kiss to his lips, making them tingle. "Please wake up, Matt." She whispered. Her hand gently cupped his cheek. "I can't stand the thought of this world without you."

Matt leaned in closer to her touch, amazed how real it felt. "Can't we stay here?" He asked, cuddling her closer.

She shook her head, tears forming. "Come back to me. I have so much to tell you." She tilted her head as if listening to the song. "I need you so, that I could die. I love so."

"Addison!" He tried to hold onto her as she began to recede into the darkness. "I love you. I need you to know that."

"Open your eyes." She begged from far away.

He began to feel smothered by the darkness. That initial comfort had disappeared along with his love.

He blinked and felt the rush of pain hit him. He took a deep breath, regretting it immediately when his cracked ribs reminded him they were there. He looked about the stark hospital room and finally saw the blonde head bowed next to his bed.

"Please come back to me." Addison pleaded softly. "I should have told you I loved you but I thought you were in love with Jessica." She sniffed and covered her face. "I can't lose you, Matt."

He tried to move his hand and grimaced at the effort it took to do so. He finally felt her silky hair.

Addison looked up. Her eyes were puffy from all her crying and she had dark circles under them. He wondered how long she had remained by his bedside, how long he had been unconscious.

"Matt?" She whispered.

"Addison." He croaked. He grimaced at that raw sensation in his throat.

She began to make half gasp/half sob noises as she realized that he was truly awake. "Oh Matt!" She took his hand and pressed her lips to it. "I've been so--the call--and Jessica said--" she began to cry harder.

Matt wished he could put his arms around her and comfort her.

She suddenly surged forward and kissed his lips. That familar tingle he felt when in the courtyard sparked against his skin. She backed away and lifted vulnerable eyes to his.

"I love you, Addison." Matt whispered. "So much."

She kissed him again, trying to stop her tears of joy when he deepened the kiss.

She cupped his cheek while whispering her own love for him.

Matt closed his eyes for a moment when Addison left to let the nurse know he was awake. Thank you, Ita, he whispered

When he opened them, he could have sworn he heard his abuela say, "Cásate con Addison y dame un bisnieto. Muchos bisnietos."

[dikanamai]

—Rosa Rivera, in the Land of the Dead <3

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?"

And this time, she felt extremely proud.

[shanie-the-toyaddict]

Ok, my turn

For context, this is in the church state AU where Sami and Kevin are in an established relationship. However, despite them being together for a couple years by this point, Sami has never specifically said "I love you," at least, not in a language that Kevin speaks (which in this case is ENGLISH.) Sometimes he'll throw some words of affection in Spanish or French but they don't mean much to Kevin because, in this world, he only speaks English. Kevin has just gotten used to it, though and accepted that Sami will say it when he's ready.

Anyway, fast forward to Christmas with Sami, Kevin, and Ruth (OC)

Kevin has a gift for Sami.

(I think I've posted this part before and this is all of the scene I have drafted out yet)

...

“I, uh... I had a whole speech prepared,” he admitted. “Oh man...” 

Sami looked at Kevin lovingly, but Kevin still struggled. 

“Just speak from your heart, Kevin,” Ruth told him. 

Kevin nodded. “Right. So, Sami. I have loved you for almost as long as I’ve known you.” 

Kevin paused and shook his head. “No, that’s not right,” he said, and tried again. 

“I’ve known you for as long as... crap this is hard, why can’t I remember?” He was getting frustrated, Ruth could tell but he continued. “Look, I know it’s supposed to be a sin, that what we have is wrong, but it’s not. I can feel it.”  

He drew a breath in sharply and pounded on his chest for emphasis. “In here! I can feel it in here! I can feel that I’m supposed to be with you. Forever. And no Church or God or Savior is going to convince me otherwise!” 

There was an anger to his words, a righteous rage against an unjust system that Ruth could get behind. But beyond the obvious anger there was another layer. Pain, hurt, frustration that whatever powers of the universe had put the two of them on the planet was unkind at best and cruel at worst. It was true that Ruth was, what had Sami called it, anti-sexual? Asexual? He’d only told her the word once, but really putting a name to it didn’t matter as much as the way she felt. Such affairs were not for her and never would be. But she couldn’t help but believe that Kevin’s anger was well deserved. After all, what good was blessing the world with the notion of romance if you were forbidden from expressing it with your beloved? 

After a few moments, however, the pain Kevin was feeling overwhelmed the anger and his eyes clenched shut as his head fell. Taking a shaky breath, he let it out as he continued. 

“We’re soulmates. I don’t know how else to explain it. We were meant for each other.” 

Throughout his speech, Ruth’s attention had been on Kevin but, as she glanced at Sami, she couldn’t ignore the look on the redhead’s face. It was equal parts wonder, awe, and amazement, as if Kevin’s words were not only unexpected but frightening.  

Her attention returned to Kevin as she watched him shake off his pain and said, “Anyway, um... I know we can’t really get married, and we’d both be killed if we tried, but...” 

Kevin held the box out to Sami. 

“I want you to have it anyway.” ----- (Still unwritten part) Inside the box is a small, etched copper ring, too small to fit on Sami's finger and clearly made DIY from a piece of copper pipe. The ring is hanging from a length of black utility chain long enough to hide the ring behind any shirt or hoodie. The whole thing is obviously crafted from items that Kevin had access to as a handyman around camp.

Sami, overcome with emotion, starts to tear up. Kevin thinks he's done something wrong but Sami silently takes the ring and puts it around his neck. Everything is quiet as he turns it in his fingers against his chest before, very quietly, he says... "I love you." Kevin is shocked (so is Ruth) but Sami looks up and says it again, firmer this time, but his face reads as though he's scared of the words coming from his mouth. About 50 different emotions run through his eyes and Kevin can't help but smile in adoration and love. Suddenly, Sami (who was sitting down) Jumps up saying "Oh God, I love..." but doesn't get the end of the sentence out before their lips crash together and they start kissing like their lives depend on it. The kind of kiss that two people who have built their entire worlds on the other's back would share, like a couple that nothing else could or would ever matter but each other.

The kind of kiss that two soulmates would share.

And, when they come up for air, Sami presses his head against Kevin's and tells him "They can try and stop me. But I'm gonna be with you forever."

They go back to kissing and Ruth, having stood by silently for most of this, decides that it's time to take a very long walk on the other side of camp.

Like I said, I've told you about this one before but I've worked out more details in the story since then and while they spend a good deal of the story kissing before this, NONE of those other kisses come close to the emotion of THIS ONE.

WIP: what is the most emotional kiss you got going on right now. (You show me yours and I'll show you mine)

Besides the kiss they shared on the elevator, probably the one I'm working on for your Birthday. Oops...spoiler alert: It's in the rain. 👀