#monster!josé

[fi3stazo]

Some old lighting practice with an AU

—————  Do NOT repost, edit, trace, or use my art in any way. Thanks.

[franken-loser]

Been thinking about the Frankenstein ballet again recently and ouugughh the people who play victor are always so gorgeous like what the fuck

Frederico Bonelli as Victor!!! He's the original cast for him I believe, since he played him in the recorded show

Tristan Dyer as Victor OH MY GODDD hes so,,,,,just,,,heshsso,,shehs

ALEXANDER CAMPBELL AS VICTOR☝️☝️☝️❗❗❗ Alexander Campbell plays Henry in the original recorded version of the ballet and he plays Victor in another version hes SO silly🙏🙏🙏

Annnddd José Pablo Castro Cuevas as Victor!!!! He's literally so gorgeous AND Amanda Assucena as Elizabeth shes so beautiful im WAHAHHHSHAG

[thelibraryofsylphide]

my therapist says make friends with your monsters - José Olivarez

we are gathered in truce to discuss our differences, my therapist seated between us. my roadrunner legs point past the door in case. we are gathered in truth, because my therapist said it was time to stop running, & i pay my therapist too much to be wrong, so i am here. in case my therapist is right. my monsters, coyotes in the chase, look almost human in the sterile office light. my monsters say they just want to be friends. i remember when we first met, me & my monsters. i remember the moment i birthed each one. each time i tried to shed a piece of myself, it grew into a monster. take this one with the collar of belly fat around its neck, the monster called Chubby, Husky, Big Boy. i climbed out of that skin as fast as i could, only to see some spirit give it legs. i ran & it never stopped chasing me. each new humiliation coming to life & following after me. after me, a long procession of sad monsters. each monster hungry to drag me back, to return me to the dirt i came from. ashes to ashes, fat boy to fat. i point my feet to the nearest exit, all my fire alarms go off. my monsters crowd around me, i stare into a no-fun house of mirrors showing me all the angles i try to forget. my therapist says i can’t make the monsters disappear no matter how much i pay her. all she can do is bring them into the room, so i can get to know them, so i can learn their names, so i can see clearly their toothless mouths, their empty hands, their pleading eyes.

[head-vampire]

Vampire Tales issue #8 (1974)

Art by José Antonio Domingo

Source

[weirdlookindog]

The Revived Monster (El Monstruo Resucitado, 1953) - Mexican Poster

[kinderartifact4]

Cody’s groups are next. His timeline is the one I had the most fun planning out when I was writing all this out.

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(The Beginning)

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(Months Later)

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(A Year after “The Beginning”)

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(Two Years)

[onpyre]

Because normal humanity has only the courage to react to the usual gradations that range from the beautiful to the ugly, which in the long run are nothing but nuances of the same thing. The monster, on the other hand, Don Jerónimo contended with feeling, in order to exalt them with his mystique, belongs to a different, privileged species, with its own rights and particular canons that exclude the concepts of beauty and ugliness as tenuous categories, because, in essence, monstrosity is the culmination of both qualities synthesized and exacerbated to the sublime. Terrified by the exceptional being, normal beings locked him up in institutions or in circus cages, boxing him in with their scorn in order to snatch their power.

The Obscene Bird of Night, José Donoso

[ferbracket]

Doofenshmirtz Family Bracket

José

Fairy Princess. ''Jameson, I think I found the problem. I had the Brew-Inator set to ''Fairy Princess'' by mistake. You know, in hindsight, I question even including a ''Fairy Princess'' setting to begin with.''

[waru-chan8]

why put a champagne bottle for the underage kids?

[mrhearty-arts]

The Dawn of Count Damian - Character design

Help, I've become too attached to the characters I made for a school project.

"After being bitten by an eccentric client, the frustrated grocery employee formerly known as David Cuellar transforms into a vampire, which grants him freedom from his dull existence. Taking the new identity of Count Damian, the newly turned vampire sets on a journey to find new friends, new foes and a new purpose in life."

Character info under the cut

Count Damian/David Cuellar: A horror loving, slightly pessimistic young man who dreams of becoming a screenwriter but has been jaded by his rocky background. Stuck in a job he hates just to keep an apartment that's crumbling down, when he meets an actual vampire and discovers the existence of magical creatures he decides to throw this monotone life out of the window and dive into this new, exciting world.

Duke Paimon: An eccentric and joyful gentleman from the Victorian Era turned into a vampire by his lover and then went on a crime spree that went on for centuries. During the 80s he was a pretty famous actor but went into a deep depression after the failure of what he considered his greatest movie. 40 years later he has resurfaced in search of a new adventure and comes across David, whom he would drag into his shenanigans. 

4. Maeve Edenmore: Maeve was born a vampire but has always been enamored with the human world, especially their fashion. She joins her father Paimon on his little trip to finally experience the wonders of this new world first hand and help Damian come out of his shell. Despite her bubbly and sweet appearance however, she does have a taste for chaos and is very much a menace. 

José Cuellar: A well-meaning yet slightly neurotic film director, José never believed in magic or monsters until his dead cousin rose up from the grave with a set of fangs and a thirst for blood. He ends up joining forces with a group of vampire hunters thinking he could cure David of his “disease” and is unknowingly dragged onto something greater than himself.

Madame Hekate: Regal, elegant and vain, Hekate is a high-class vampire and considered an influential figure in the vampire world. Despite this, her long-lived rivalry with Duke Paimon has pushed her to team up with José and even the vampire hunters in order to finally get even with the duke. 

Goldiath Van Helsing: A direct descendant of Abraham Van Helsing and leader of the monster hunting organization known as the Vanquishers, Goldiath has been chasing Paimon since his boyhood years to no avail. Despite being 98 years old and being considered a lunatic by his subordinates, when he encounters a chance of getting closer to capturing the vampire for his purposes he gets back into action with the wit of a fox and a determination to capture the vampire for his sinister purposes. 

[fi3stazo]

To Jose,

How has this effected your relations with the other Caballeros? Have you informed them of your circumstance?

[thebooky]

we are gathered in truth, because my therapist said it was time to stop running, & i pay my therapist too much to be wrong, so i am here. my monsters look almost human in the sterile office light. my monsters say they want to be friends. i remember when we first met, me & my monsters. i remember the moment i planted each one. each time i tried to shed a piece of myself, it grew into a monster. take this one with the collar of belly fat the monster called Chubby, Husky, Gordito. i climbed out of that skin as fast as i could, only to see some spirit give it legs. i ran & it never stopped chasing me. each new humiliation coming to life & following after me. after me, a long procession of sad monsters. each monster hungry to drag me back, to return me to the dirt i came from. ashes to ashes, fat boy to fat. my monsters crowd around me, my therapist says i can't make the monsters disappear no matter how much i pay her. all she can do is bring them into the room, so i can get to know them, so i can learn their names, so i can see clearly their toothless mouths, their empty hands, their pleading eyes.

José Olivarez, “My Therapist Says Make Friends With Your Monsters”

[makingnewmistakes]

"And all the monsters in your mind just wanna be nice

They wanna be kind, they wanna play nice, they wanna be

Softer than the storms around

You feel them through the windows and the doors..."

- Tornadoland, Regina Spektor

José Olivarez, from my therapist says make friends with your monsters

[42bakery]

Rueda got the new lap record and it didn't even last to the end of the session

[cuartoretorno]

Cementerio Club - Underground 1997

[stoopakoopa]

Day 8 - Reunion

Drew out a little snippet from @donze-trash's fic for @mesdelostrescaballeros2024!!

Part of a larger continuity being uploaded on ao3! Read it below ⬇️

Donald pulled up outside the apartment where Panchito was staying and took a deep, fortifying breath. Of course he was excited to see his friend again! Of course he was excited for The Three Caballeros to be once more reunited, even if only for a day. There was just that one catch—he felt bad even calling it a catch, like it was somehow a bad thing that he and Zé had finally professed their love for one another—but it would always be awkward telling Panchito. Surely, the duck thought with an internal groan, things would unavoidably change within the trio.

To make it all worse, José had been away on flight shifts when Panchito arrived in town, and Donald had agreed to only break the news when his new boyfriend had returned. He was a terrible liar about this kind of thing: his tongue got all tied up and his beak chattered when he spoke. How in the hell was he supposed to—?

The Donald Duck Pity Party was cut short as sharp, energetic chatter caught his ear from the street: Panchito was being seen off and heading straight for the car. Donald flung himself toward the back seat, toward the gift José had planned to hand over today, and hastily threw a spare blanket over it. The thick, scratchy wool did a decent job of concealing the obvious shape of a brand new guitar, at least if you didn't pay it mind. They'd give it to him when they were all together. That's how they were supposed to do things. Together.

Panchito appeared, waving goodbye to someone before bounding out of the apartment complex. His face lit up when he saw Donald, and before Donald could even get a word out, Panchito had leapt into the front seat, pulling him into a bear hug. His wide sombrero wobbled dangerously, but he didn't seem to care.

"¡Ay caramba, amigo! What took you so long to get here?" Panchito exclaimed, yanking Donald into his arms despite protest from his seatbelt, all to kiss Donald's cheek with his usual enthusiasm.

"'Ey, Pancho! How you doin' amigo?" The duck choked out, finding it a little easier to act natural amid the strangulation.

Panchito released Donald to pinch his cheek playfully. "Better with you here! I've been working on that new song I told you about last night! What about you? What have you been up to all day?"

"I'm doin' swell! And nothing much! Been taking 'er easy today." He lied, and not well—he was already talking too much. "Excited, though! Not every day I get to hang out with my two best pals!" Donald pulled away from Panchito's hold in order to return his attention to driving, feeling too awkward to linger in the warm hold, however much he usually would.

The charro clicked the seatbelt into place and leaned back in his seat, apparently unfazed by the duck's haste. "Ay güey, I'm just hyped that we are finally getting together again for a change. So, what are we doing this time? Are we gonna hit up the club so hard we get kicked out again? Or maybe reopen the Magical Mythical Monster Petting Zoo from Scrooge's secret vault? Or how about we raid the Anvilania embassy and get the ambassador drunk again? You know she still calls me." 

Donald nodded, absolutely not absorbing anything the rooster was clucking about in favor of focusing on the road. He was happy, of course; his friend's exuberance was infectious to say the least. It had indeed been too long since they got to hang out like this as a group… but a part of him still felt tense. He chanced another glance at the vaquero—oblivious, humming merrily, a long leg resting against the door as he propped up his foot on his knee and took up what little space his seat offered. He wished he could feel so carefree.

When they arrived at the little airport, Panchito's excitement was hard to miss. Before the car could even finish pulling up to the 15-minute zone, he'd unbuckled and bolted out of the car window, running ahead towards the tarmac and calling out for Zé at the top of his lungs.

"Yeah, don't wait up or nothing!" Donald called after him with a roll of his eyes. Crazy bird, he hadn't even put the car into park yet!  The lighthearted atmosphere Panchito had cultivated was at war with the impulse to complain bubbling inside him because he wanted see Zé first, to get a chance to hold his boyfriend first before they had to act respectably platonic in front of their none the wiser companion. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, just…

One hug, one second to let the weight of the week melt off was all he wanted. But that wasn't happening. Not yet. Instead, he'd have to wait and keep playing the part.

"Great," he muttered, jerking on the car's parking brake. "Just act natural. Simple."

The airport, while always abuzz with people from all walks of life and from every corner of the globe, was relatively less hectic on a weekday like this, and José was all the more grateful for it. Deplaning the small jet from Panama was fairly routine and done quickly, leaving Zé with a little free time before he met up with his friends. He brought with him his single suitcase, loaded with more clothes than his usual amount, plus some souvenirs from Brazil and the several other countries he had stopped in during the work week. There were things for the kids back at the manor, plus a homemade gaúcho style poncho pala made by his vovó for Della (whom the old bird had assumed was still freezing from her time on the Moon).  Strapped to the outside of the suitcase (because it could not fit) and wrapped in cloth was José's gift to Donald, a new hammock for his houseboat. He hoped he would like it.

Walking to the exit, Zé attempted to steal himself for the reunion to come. Not so much for seeing Donald, though his blood ran quick with excitement for him to be sure. But Panchito, whom he had not seen since they met for that ill-fated holiday to Bahia that never came to fruition. They had kept in constant contact even after their break up, though it caused pain on both sides. They had been determined to preserve their eternal friendship even in the face of romantic disappointment. And though it took some years for Zé to be able to look the rooster in the face without the unbearable ache in his chest urging him to take it all back and try again, he never wanted to lose sight of what drew him and the other two Caballeros together in the first place. They were his family, no matter what happened.

Even when I act like a stupid teenager and run crying to my ex-boyfriend about my hopeless crush, which turned out to be not so hopeless after all because we're together now and— Merda!

Zé closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. It was very good that he had this spare moment to compose himself as he entered the airport proper.

The distant sound of a familiar crow cut through the din of the crowd, stopping Zé in his tracks. That voice—there was no mistaking it. And like the call to sunrise, it made his heart want to leap into the sky. Spotting a tall flash of red, and a hat that he insisted was too big for his head, standing tall amongst the crowd, Zé dropped his suitcase and his umbrella and ran forward like his tail was on fire. Before he even had time to think about it, he was launching himself into Panchito's arms. The rooster caught him instantly, just like old times.

"¡¡AAAAAAJAJAJAJAJA!!" Panchito's triumphant grito echoed across the terminal. His grip was tight, almost desperate, and his wide grin spoke volumes. Zé could feel the emotion radiating from him—Panchito had missed him more than words could ever say, that much was clear. His whole body seemed to hum with excitement. 

"José!! Mi cielo!" Panchito crowed, his voice overflowing with affection as he slowly, reluctantly, released the green parrot. 

Zé smiled warmly, returning the sentiment. "It is so good to see you, docinho!" His tone was as light and affectionate as ever. "It has been too long!"

"No manches, pendejo, it's only been a few months!" Panchito guffawed, his eyes sparkling with unfiltered happiness. His grin stretched wide as he shook his head in disbelief, the warmth in his expression unmistakable. The man was an open book, his emotions always worn on his sleeve.

The malandro chuckled softly, adjusting his hat. "Well, yes, but it has been twice as long since the three of us have been—" He stopped, scanning the area. "Espere, onde está o Donald?" 

Panchito's expression shifted briefly—a flicker of realization, maybe impatience. He glanced back toward the car, where Zé knew Donald must still be catching up. The vaquero's elation had clearly driven him to rush ahead, leaving their other friend behind. Zé could almost feel the mixture of emotions brewing under Panchito's playful exterior, a familiar tug of longing buried in the joy of reunion.

But Zé knew better than to bring that up. He simply smiled again, his voice calm, teasing. "Always in a rush, eh  mano?" 

"Life is too short to sit still," the rooster replied assuredly, and his hand which still rested on his waist in a half hug pulled him in for just an instant, a punctuation to the point. 

"Hey, ya found 'im! Over here, guys!!!!" a distinctive voice cut through the busy hum of the arrival hall and Zé immediately turned towards the sound, his heart immediately catapulting into the stratosphere.

"DONAL'!" he and Panchito shouted in unison, their voices echoing across the platform. The moment the malandro caught sight of Donald looking flustered and determined as ever as he weaved through the crowd, all the excitement, the nerves, the longing came rushing back to him. He broke from Panchito's hold to sprint to him with ever increasing urgency, his heart pounding not from exertion but from sheer jubilation.

Quickly he closed the distance between them, throwing his arms around the sailor and pulling him into a tight embrace. He fit into his arms perfectly, and for a moment he didn't want to let go. Donald absorbed the impact with ease and let Zé down safely, the rest of the world seeming to melt away in an instant. Zé quickly buried his face into Donald's shoulder, feeling the comforting weight of his lover's arms around him. There was relief, adoration, and an overwhelming sense of peace. Even for just a fleeting moment, everything felt right—like he was where he belonged.

"Meu querido..." Zé whispered softly, just for Donald, though he didn't linger on the words. He knew this interlude was fleeting.

Sure enough, as if sensing their private moment was up, Donald's voice broke through their quiet intimacy. "Panchito...?" Donald called, one arm still wrapped around Zé as he extended the other towards their rambunctious rooster to include him.

Zé was too distracted with cuddling up to his sailor's side to register the gleam in Panchito's eye, at first. As it was, it was only the loud, triumphant yell that signaled their impending doom, and the parrot felt he had little choice but to make sure he didn't endure it alone, his arm holding his duck in place.

"No, wait—!" Donald started, but it was too late.

Panchito came down hard from where he had launched himself into the air like a luchador delivering his finishing move. Elbow extended, he crashed into the two of them with the energy of a firecracker bursting on impact. Donald let out a choked WAK! of surprise, his arms flailing as he was knocked clean off balance. Zé, caught in the middle of it all, simply accepted his fate with a laugh, not even trying to brace for the collision.

They tumbled down in a heap of feathers, beaks, and limbs, Zé wedged between his two best friends, both of them piled on top of Donald, who lay sprawled at the bottom. He could feel Donald wheezing beneath him, dazed from the sudden assault, while Panchito—of course—was perched victoriously at the top of the pile, leaning on one elbow like he owned the world.

"Órale! ¿Que te pasa? You were supposed to catch me!" Panchito chortled, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he flashed a wide, playful grin down at the both of them. "I could have gotten hurt!" 

"God forbid…" Donald rasped weakly.

Zé couldn't help but chuckle, even as he lay squashed in the middle. Completely unconcerned by the chaos, he wiggled into a more comfortable position between them, his head resting against Donald's back. He could feel the frantic beat of his partner's heart beneath his cheek, could hear the shallow breaths as Donald tried to recover. There was no tension, no frustration. Just pure, unbridled affection. Even in moments like this—especially in moments like this—Zé felt nothing but love for the both of them.

This was how it had always been with the three of them. Chaos and laughter, roughhousing and tenderness, all tangled together in one messy, beautiful friendship.

"Well, caras," Zé sighed contentedly, "it is good to be back where I belong."

"Where, with all of ya on top of me?" the sailor beneath him groaned, barely able to get out a full breath with all the pressure bearing down on him.

Don't tempt me, the malandro thought before immediately shelving it for later.