Apr. 1st, 2018

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white-throated-packrat:

beckytailweaver:

It is a huge plot bunny. And I apologize for this.

Due to WerewolfAU Miguel & Héctor.  I really couldn’t help it. I hope no one minds! It’s not even really fic…

So, were-xolo Miguel and werewolf Héctor.  Héctor could be awesome as a trickster were-coyote indeed, but there is an excellent subspecies if he is to remain in Canis lupus with the Xolo: a Mexican wolf.  (Mexican Wolf and Coyote: Know the Difference!) Thoughts?

Starting at the beginning, let’s take it up to eleven: Some urban fantasy, some magical realism, and a little buffet of all kinds of different legends and canons.  The Rivera family were shoemakers. With a musician or two thrown in for charm. These days, though, they’re werewolf hunters.

Keep reading

I know how to make this more heart-breaking!

Because there isn’t a doubt that once Héctor encounters Miguel and bonds with him, that he wouldn’t crawl over broken glass for that kid, and if Miguel is snatched by what Héctor recognizes as a band of werewolf hunters, Héctor is going to try to follow and rescue the kid.

…which leads the Rivera family having a full-grown werewolf sneak into their compound and try to break down the door to the room they’ve confined Miguel in while they try to figure out what to do about their newly-minted were-puppy.

It’s not that Héctor succeeds in his plan – it’s that he gets into the room and then won’t leave without Miguel, which means when the Riveras show up three seconds later, there is a stand-off of Papa Héctor-Wolf trying to shove puppy-Miguel into a corner, intimidate the werewolf hunters into keeping back, and figure out how to get out the window without having functioning thumbs while Miguel whines and tries to make peace between his family and his new best friend/mentor figure.

So into this mess wades Mama Imelda, who has to listen to half her family argue for shooting the big wolf, and half arguing that it’s too dangerous, they might hurt Miguel.

The minute she snaps “Quiet!”, all of the Riveras shut up, even Miguel. But something else happens.

The big wolf jerks into alert dog stance – ears perked, tail up, almost on point – and then starts belly-crawling and whining, a complete fawning “don’t hurt me/forgive me/ you’re the boss” show that makes everyone stare. As he crosses the room, his paws becomes hands, his fur recedes, until he’s kneeling at Imelda’s feet, almost entirely human.

Imelda Rivera looks down into the too-young face of her husband for the first time in sixty years as he clutches at her skirts and pleads with her for Miguel’s life.

Turns out, Héctor didn’t die. Turns out, when they accidentally encountered a werewolf, Ernesto escaped with his life by the sudden realization that he didn’t need to be faster than the werewolf, he just needed to be faster than Héctor, and tripped his best friend as a diversion.

Héctor has been dodging werewolf hunters, police, zoos, and the like for literally decades, and thus living in the shadow economy. He’s not proud of it, but sometimes he doesn’t remember anything else. Sometimes he does remember when he had a home and a family he adored, and that’s when he tries to go home. And sometimes he remembers he’s a monster, and that’s when he tries to go as far away from home as he can.
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white-throated-packrat:

Building and branching off the Were-Xolo AU of @beckytailweaver

Miguel grows up in a family that is shoemakers… and occasionally werewolf hunters, when a werewolf appears and starts killing things, people in the know come to the Zapateria de Rivera to request something other than boots.

When 12-year-old Miguel’s secret guitar is discovered, it’s bad; his family tells him he’s wasting his time on frivolity, instead of important things, like killing werewolves.

When 12-year-old Miguel transforms in a werewolf (all right, a were-xolo, but still!) one night, it’s beyond bad.

Keep reading
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twinklecupcake:

twinklecupcake:

twinklecupcake:

People have been asking for another/better post, or something with most of the plot points in one spot, soooo. Yup, here’s ‘AU Plot Electric Boogaloo.’

(Note: A lot of this is basically ‘how would the movie plot go’ so there’s a lot of parallels and ‘same themes.’ Sorry!
Also this got really freaking long.)

Backstory Details:

* The three main adult characters are still deceased.
* Héctor died as in canon, Imelda died of A Fever when Coco was eight, and Ernesto died, ironically enough, of food poisoning.
* Coco is raised by her uncles Oscar and Felipe, who have a little help from Ceci.
* Ceci was one of Imelda’s friends, and has basically taken it upon herself to help look after her daughter, even though she’s really awkward around kids and doesn’t know how to deal with them.
** She’s always the one dragging Coco home by the arm, finding the kid dancing in the plaza roughly three times a week.

Keep reading

Part/Act Two!

Now, meanwhile, Imelda already knows something’s horribly wrong. She felt it in her metaphorical gut, like she got punched and is sick on top of that.
She knows - she just knows - it has something to do with her daughter. At first she assumes Coco’s been hurt, so she’s all ready to bolt across the bridge…until the huge winged cat from earlier appears, communicating in a way that only animals and their favorite people can.

“She’s WHAT?!”

She rushes to the nearest official to put out a missing person report. They know exactly who she’s talking about, the poor kid seemed terrified! Imelda makes sure they know not to frighten Coco even worse when they do find her, to alert her immediately when they do, and you know what? She’s not going to sit around passively waiting, she’s grabbing a picture of her daughter that she took from last year and is going out to find her too.
“My poor baby must be scared half to death already!”

Cue a cut over to Coco, definitely not scared and just admiring her surroundings in curiosity and awe and “Hey, how can you guys eat? Where’s it all go?”
“Best not thinking about it, chica.”

Keep reading

Coco, blinded by tears, can’t see where she’s going. And currently, she does’’t even care. She’s too hurt, too angry, too busy frantically trying to wipe away her tears. And she keeps thinking about what she just heard, what she just found out.

Keep reading
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funkzpiel:

acarima:

Young Percival Graves, anyone?  (*ノωノ)

Or Percival Graves with a ‘Benjamin Button’ sort of curse. It’s fine in the beginning. He’s not going to become a child over night, after all. But it’s hard to feel pressure to solve something that makes him feel and look younger every day. And if they solved the issue when he’s at his peak? Oh lord help the aurors, their boss is competent, confident and sizzlingly hot. 

*snicker* @funkzpiel I have the sudden mental image of Percival finding out the cure within the first *month* of being cursed - and deliberately refraining from casting the counter-curse until he’s - well, Newt’s age. They can grow old together.
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funkzpiel:

hamelin-born:

funkzpiel:

acarima:

Young Percival Graves, anyone?  (*ノωノ)

Or Percival Graves with a ‘Benjamin Button’ sort of curse. It’s fine in the beginning. He’s not going to become a child over night, after all. But it’s hard to feel pressure to solve something that makes him feel and look younger every day. And if they solved the issue when he’s at his peak? Oh lord help the aurors, their boss is competent, confident and sizzlingly hot. 

*snicker* @funkzpiel I have the sudden mental image of Percival finding out the cure within the first *month* of being cursed - and deliberately refraining from casting the counter-curse until he’s - well, Newt’s age. They can grow old together.

That is precious and also I think fits his vanity well too, haha.

@funkzpiel

In the meantime, the aurors have to put up with a lot of cold showers and chanting ‘he’s in a committed relationship, he’s in a committed relationship’ to themselves as they adjust to having a smokin’ hot boss.
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agent-superwholockian:

that-fandom-feminist:

justmyflawedlogic:

aerialsquid:

Has anyone done a ‘lik the bred’ poem for Passover? I think this is that meme’s first Pesach.

Our name is Jews
And wen its nite
And tenth plage cum
We tayk our flite,
All thruout land
The first-born’s ded.
We hav no time
To rays the bred

Our name is Jews
And wen tim comes
To burn the bred
And serch for crums
We clen our house
We feast ate days
To celebrate
That we’re not slaves

Our name is Jews
And tho we luv
To eet wen saved
By God abuv
On these ayt days
It’s wheat we dred
And so we’re told
Don’t lik the bred

@robininthelabyrinth
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Currently watching Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

…God(s), I’d forgotten just how much I love this over-the-top, beautifully shot, utterly campy movie!
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thebeastswrite:

Anyway so thanks so much @staff for fucking up the read mores so now my fics are screwed and my drabbles as well and anything not on AO3 with a read more is basically gone in the wind…

PSA: DON’T use read mores! They are messing with the formatting! Causing text to vanish when reblogged! And sometimes wont let you edit your own post after posted!
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