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#warm color family
k-chips · 2 years
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Proud dad with his very elegant children!
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ducky-died-inside · 2 years
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Uhh hi I don't know if your requests are still open if not thats ok but I was wondering if you could write about the madrigal family adopting child y/n and how they would react to the reader calling (any of your pick)them mom,dad ect.. you don't have to do this if your uncomfortable with it just want to ask. But anyways hope you are having a great day or night and love your writing btw!(srry for my bad typing!)
Mami: Pepa x Fem Reader (platonic)
Summary: You finally call Pepa, Mami after being her daughter for a few years...
Genre: Fluff!
Notes: I'm sorry this took so long! My motivation to write is still there, it has just died down a bit.
Warnings: happy tears from Pepa, really angsty backstory because I can't write pure sugar like this,
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You sat up straight in your bed, a cool sweat running down your face. It was another nightmare from before. Before the Madrigals, namely Pepa and Félix, had taken you in. Dolores had heard what was happening to you at your house and told her family. They came to your home, and whisked you away and now, you were a Madrigal.
You had a gift and everything. You could teleport, which made your new older brother Camilo very interested in doing stuff with you. Namely, pranks and stealing food and playing jokes on people.
Even though you were young when the Madrigals saved you, you still had scars, mental and physical, from when you lived with your father. He would come home drunk and irritated which did not bode well for you.
Your nightmares brought you back to those years that you tried so desperately to block out. You wiped the sweat from your face and sat on the edge of your bed. You teleported into the bathroom and splashed some water in your face.
"You're alright. You're not there anymore. You have a family that cares about you now."
Your words to yourself helped, but they couldn't drive away the ever-persistent thoughts in your head.
But what if they don't? What if they just barely tolerate me and took out of pity? Do they even do that or are they just waiting for me to move out?
You heard a knock at the door and a familiar voice.
"Y/N? Are you alright in there? I heard the sink going and you're the only other one awake?"
It was Pepa. You could tell from the water seeping under the door and into the bathroom that she was drizzling.
"Yeah, Pepi. I'm alright. I just had a nightmare."
Your voice was shaky and you were honestly on the verge of tears at this point. With the combination of your nightmare and Pepa coming to check on you, it was too much.
"Another one? That's the third one this week. Are you sure you're alright, mija?"
You broke down and opened the door to see Pepa in her nightgown, her braided, red hair wet from the cloud over her head. She took one look at your face and immediately pulled you into a hug. You hugged her back, not caring about the drizzling cloud that hung over your heads. Your head fit into the crook of her neck and you sobbed into her shoulder until you were able to speak coherent sentences.
"I'm sorry, Mami. I didn't mean to wake you up. I got your dress all wet too."
You mumbled quietly, and for a moment of shocked silence, you thought Pepa didn't hear you. She grabbed you by the shoulders and locked eyes with you.
"Did you just call me Mami?"
There were tears in Pepa's eyes and you immediately went to apologize.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"
Pepa pulled you into an even tighter hug.
"I've been wanting you to call me that for years. Oh, and don't worry about the dress. It was wet anyway."
You could hear the small, lilting laugh in her voice.
"You're not mad?"
"Why in the world would I be mad, mija?"
"I'm not Dolores, Camilo, or Antonio. I don't belong here."
"Of course you do. You are my mija, even if you are of different blood. I still love you just as much as I love them."
"Really?"
"Really."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu , @hiroyuki27 , @alexaizawa , @roxiekamishxro , @katethecraziest , @merymikey , @kailoveswom3n , @bxbykayla , @strange-person16
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row-boats3 · 2 years
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The artwork below, by @czpeterp ,inspired me to do a little Encanto oneshot! With their permission, I decided to post it.
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Here we go!!
“Milo?” The soft voice called in, opening the door to the room slightly. Soft footsteps carefully stepped inside. She scanned the room as her ears looked for the beating heart of her brother.
Dolores hated her brother's room.
It wasn’t anything particularly about how the room was structured, and it wasn’t loud like it could be in Luisa’s gym. What Dolores hated about it was the maze of mirrors, constantly changing in shapes and sizes.
What she hated were the way those mirrors sometimes made her brother feel.
She followed the heartbeat, having picked up on the difference over the past twenty minutes. She’d heard an anxious rush, beating quickly much like their mothers would before a snowstorm. Then, is slowed, yet something still didn’t feel right.
Not everything Dolores knew was from the sounds. Sometimes, she just knew her familia well.
“Milo?” She called again to alert him of her presence and tracked down the heartbeat.
Finally, she spotted him.
Camilo was slouched against a low-hanging mirror while sitting on the floor, his head tilted towards the ceiling.He blinked, staring upwards in a dazed fashion.
“Camilo?” The word passed her lips just above a whisper, eyes widening as they often did. Dolores had never been the actor her brother was. Just like their mother, she often wore her heart on her sleeve. Or In some cases, directly on her face. “Can you hear me, hermano?”
There was no response, as the teen continued to stare.
Dolores knew what this was. She’d seen this before, she’d done this before.
Her baby brother was completely distanced, fully over-stimulated as she often was by the sounds of the Encanto. With a soft sigh, she gracefully moved to sit beside him.
A hand reached out, placed on his shoulder and rubbing softly. Gently, she began to try to bring him back to the present. Her brother flinched slightly at the touch, blinking rapidly.
“Sorry.” She mumbled. Even in his half-aware state, Camilo could still hear his hermana's quiet whisper perfectly. He always could hear Dolores when she spoke. “You were pretty far gone there.”
A soft hum sounded in the back of his throat in response, though the teen didn’t move, still rigidly against the wall in deep thought.
It didn’t take any gift for her to see her hermano was struggling.
“Do you want to talk about it?” The woman inquired, pulling her knees inward for a more comfortable position. She’d be here all day if needed. “I can’t hear what you don’t say.” She reminded him. For as much as her powers revealed to her, she couldn’t hear everything.
A long stretch of silence followed, as brown eyes looked over the freckled face. Neither spoke, letting the breeze of cold air rush over them. The room was still shifting, mirrors rippling tauntingly as the dark grey walls settled. The bleak color supposedly reflects the mind of the room's occupant. The elder had finally given in, resigned to simply sitting with her hermanito as they rode out the storm
It’s what he would often do for her when Dolores’ own world got too loud.
“Lola?” The teen finally called out, the sound of his hoarse voice catching her attention immediately.
“I’m here.” She assured, a gentle hand reaching over to pat his own. Often, he’d complain when she did this, having decided he was “too old” for it now. But in the confides of Casita, neither dared to pull away. Not now.
“Have you ever felt,” he trailed off quietly for a moment, “Not like yourself?” He asked, letting the question hang in the air of a few moments before being able to add more.
“Like, your body isn’t real? You know what you should look like, but, like, everything seems wrong.” He elaborated, a small squeak leaving Dolores as she processed the information, carefully phrasing herself.
“No, not like that.” She answered truthfully. Her brother seemed to slump back into the wall at the response, so she took the opportunity to pull him against her side. Sometimes, she thought hearing heartbeats would soothe everyone just as much as it did her.
“But sometimes,” her soft voice finally got Camilo to look at his hermana properly. “When it gets too loud, i get really overwhelmed. There’s so many sounds, and I can’t filter out which sound is which, until I can’t hear anything at all. It’s just a high-pitched ringing.”
That had long been one of the scariest things she’d found with her gifts. No matter how many times it happened, she never didn’t panic when she realized she couldn’t hear. In even a few moments, so many things could go wrong, so many people could need help, and she was supposed to hear it and fix things.
Her brother looked over at her, both ignoring the tear tracks on his cheeks and red eyes. There was no point shifting it away for a healthier look to his skin, she’d already seen him.
“Is it always going to be this scary?” He asked, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Does it ever stop feeling like your body won’t do what you tell it to?”
Dolores knew better than to lie right now.
“I don’t know.” She responded, gently stroking his curls to soothe him.
“What if next time I forget, I-I can’t remember?” Camilo was quick to wipe away any new tears with his sleeve before they fell. He didn’t want to seem that pathetic.
“I’ll always remember who you are.” She assured, continuing when he didn’t seem convinced.
“You’re Camilo Madrigal, my baby brother, Tonitio’s best friend, first-born son to Pepa and Felix. You’re a nice boy that loves making people laugh and cares about people.” Gently, the woman took his face in her hands, stroking back his curls as he was turned to look at her.
“You are Camilo. No one can take that away from you.” She promised, her doe-like brown eyes conveying as much sympathy as she possibly could.
The air was still for a moment.
Camilo immediately launched into his sisters arms, face pressed against her shoulder as he breathed deeply. His arms wrapped around her tightly, and Dolores continued brushing her brother’s curls to comfort him.
They sat like that as the house beneath them continued on with their day. The Madrigal family was continuing to serve the town and make noise, as did the villagers, no one any wiser to the moment between the two. Dolores took some solace in Casita knowing when to stay still, as not a single floorboard jumped up to interrupt their peace.
“Come on. This room isn’t good for you right now.” She decided, glancing at the shifting mirrors. “We’ll go sit in my room until you feel better.”
Dolores stood, extending a hand. Her brother took it.
“Gracias, hermana mayor.” He smiled gently.
Dolores smiled back just as softly.
“no te preocupes, hermanito. estoy aquí.”
And she always would.
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kazorashi · 1 year
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Camilo & Antonio talking be like
Antonio: *opens fridge door* Is that soda in the fridge yours, Camilo? Camilo: *it’s not* Yes. Antonio: Okay. *closes fridge door*
[Bonus] Camilo: *opens fridge door* Is that soda in here yours, Dol? Dolores: *it is* Yes. Camilo: Cool. *drinks soda*
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sailorwritesstuff · 1 year
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Moonlight and Cigarettes
Dolores indulges in her secret vice and reflects on her love life; Pre canon.
Cw: Smoking, (mentioned) drinking, eavesdropping, hopeless pining
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For the record this is self-destructive for the record I'm aware of that for the record I've been picturing his body draped over the sofa wearing nothing but his hat
The wind whipped around her softly as she stood on the balcony of her room draped lazily against the railing staring down on the quiet town. The sound of gentle snorting and dozens of staggered breaths filled her ears like the night time's own melodic song for her.
Dolores flipped open the top of her big silver lighter cupping the flame from the winds as she brought it close enough to her face she could feel the warmth brush against her dry lips and freezing nose. She watched in an almost trance like disinterest as her cigarette lit with a faint orange that reminded her of a dress she used to own.
Her ears focused in and out of everything and nothing in particular all at once. Checking on any emergencies the night night may brew. A dirty habit of hers she'd picked up over the years. Keeping tabs on older townspeople who live alone or sick babies in danger of being lost in the night hours whenever she couldn't sleep. But occasionally late night conversations would catch her ear. Mutterings or arguments parents didn't want to have in front of the kids, prayers for help from God, and sometimes the sweet whispers of the boy with the poetry book. She knew him well.
They'd gone to school together with him just a year older. She'd been in utter infatuation since he'd once told her she looked like a shining sun, warm and inviting, in her new yellow dress years ago. And she longed for the day he'd say similar words again.
But instead as they grew old she heard mutters of spring flowers and lavender perfume. Neither things associated with her. She took a long drag of her cigarette, bitter smoke filling her lung with a pinch in the back of her throat. Her head slid back, cheeks puffed with air as she stared at the moon. Listening.
A soft whimper left his mouth as he shifted in his sheets and pressed his face further into his pillow muffling the unholy sweet sound. Finally she released the smoke in her lungs into the night sky and licked her lips.
Her ear twitched as the sound of his soft snores rattled around in her brain. It wasn't a secret Isabela and Mariano were to be engaged in the coming years. It was expected.
But Dolores knew before any other.
Since she was only 10.
It was what originally drove her to smoking in the first place. Hearing whispers of what was expected of her secret love. Thinking about him at late hours of the night. Pictures of his body draped against her bed surrounded in the intricate white ruffles of her bedspread leaving the smell of him on her pillows.
Daydreams of their talks and touches when he would never be hers. Truly hers. Drove her up the wall. But with a cigarette between her fingers a sense of calm fell over her and she could pretend everything was alright. She wasn't in love with her prima's sort of boyfriend. She didn't want to see him either under her fingers.
He whimpers in his sleep and she frowns.
And then the nicotine wasn't enough. But she took another hit anyway.
"What are you doing to me, Mariano Guzman." She groans into the still air.
He sighed.
She smiled.
He was happy. Dreaming of perfect flowers and the smell of lavender and vanilla.
He was happy without her.
And she was happy he was happy.
He slept through the night.
And she took another drag of her cigarette brushing stray curls back into her sleep scarf.
"I need a drink."
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autisticgayplushie · 11 months
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mango the queer pride puppy!!! :D
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inkskinned · 2 years
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red used to get me scratchies and we'd sit in his truck quietly working quarters over papers. we aren't biological - my parents are friends with him; i spent enough summer weekends at their cottage on the beach that it feels like family anyhow. he and his wife come to all the family big events like it's no big deal.
i get nervous around people a lot. like i am am intruding, somehow, just by existing. red has the kind of personality that feels calming - like, it's okay, you're supposed to be here. i often will bolt through any explanation of my life or passions - blurting it out in a series of seconds, worried i'll be cut off or it won't be interesting to the other person, desperate to get a sentence finished.
sometimes i wanna be a good friend like painting the sky yellow just 'cause it's your favorite color. like made your favorite dessert. a week ago i caught my finger in a food processor making a three-layer chocolate mousse. called my brother from the kitchen floor, holding paper towel around the cut. surrounded by blood and crushed oreos. after this - i'm okay - i still finished making the dessert.
i used to think if i could study love - in books, in tv, in magazines - i could figure out how to get comfy with it. to trust it. other people kept telling me life is a tightrope love is a net! and i'd flinch. a net is, at the end of the day, to catch things. i can't explain why that's scary.
red says the truck only runs because he asks it nicely. it should have died 23 years back, if anybody is counting. it was quiet in their cabin. the quiet used to make me uneasy. i was waiting for something bad, certain it would happen eventually.
sometimes i think i have to make up for all the ways i'm a bad person and for all the ways that bad things have happened to me by being the nicest, kindest, most beautifully-charming person who will ever be. i think i have to make everyone laugh and clap and leave smiling. if i am very good, they will love me. i still think the love will wear off when they look away. that it comes temporary. so i have to keep it up. i have to keep up being perfect, always, and maybe one of them will keep me.
red once greeted me for the summer by waving me over to a small freezer in the garage. he was secretly stashing all the popsicles with our favorite flavor. truth be told, i think he probably showed my siblings, too - and all the adults definitely knew. but it felt good to pinky-promise that this was just-between-us-two.
i think maybe sometimes the way we learn how to love is just osmosis. like - i wasn't always raised right. i learned love is thin. that it flakes off easy, butterfly wing material. that you have to scrape by with what you get. that you have to earn it. that you have to be funny, cool, full of exciting interests.
if you're lucky, though. i think the quiet ways people can love us work just the same. the simple, gentle hush of a summer holiday. the way the hydrangeas got tall and bushy. what i'm saying is that... if i'm good - really good - if i believe in love, i mean.
i only believe in it because of the way those few kind people showed me. in all the rest of it. their gentle image - eventual reprieve.
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jacarandaaaas · 3 months
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and on that note of knowing the cool sisters colors reflect the parent they’re closest with. Does this apply to warm family too?
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all of them wear a shade of yellow except Dolores who only has yellow accents. Whilst red is still a warm color it’s also the brightest out of them. My sad theory is that this is something to do with Dolores being known as “isabelas shadow” so in order to stand out more from the yellows of the rest of her family dolores wears red to differentiate herself maybe? Red is also a color associated with romance which we know dolores longs for! red is passionate too! it’s a color that’s hard to miss and paired with the hair bow it makes it hard to overlook Dolores! The yellow accents and cream blouse still tie her back to her family but I think she just wants to stand out more so people stop associating her with being overlooked by isabela! that’s just my little hc though I’d be interested to hear other points on this because I don’t think Jared ever answered this?
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cookiehusky799 · 7 months
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They're so proud of Mirabel ❤
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pweachfwoge · 5 months
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Klee is one of those kids who grows up with their childish whimsy intact - 🍮
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transgnckon · 1 year
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Can u believe…
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itscosmicnerd · 2 years
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Me and the girl I pulled by being funny!! 😳💕
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moonmeg · 2 years
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Just a quick sketch in between work, talking with my bestie over phone and layout for next comic
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These two 😫😫💗
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row-boats3 · 2 years
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I chose to rewrite this work, as I felt I could show much better writing. I’m far happier with this version and will be continuing it :)
Summary: He hadn’t recognized the significance it held. Truly, Camilo wouldn’t fully grasp the true impact of that moment until weeks, months, maybe even years later. Crossing Tiber those mountains, he didn’t think anything would change. He would still be Camilo, the impossible combination of dramatic theater kid and insecure teenager that somehow managed to screw everything up.  In his new village, Camilo keeps meeting new people, and splashes of yellow have caught his eye. They seem to notice him too, confusing the teen beyond sense. How can practical strangers make him feel more at home that his own family? 
This is inspired by the amazing @scarletfire100 and their work “Searching for Somewhere to belong” which is a finished work of the same concept, please go read it! 
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submarinecatart4000 · 5 months
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practicing color palettes! Bunsen & Beaker + Stewie Griffin lol
and the fact that i can do a lois griffin voice is insane
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