#ceci coco

[imeldaesthetic]

So I decided to try my hand at writing my first one-shot collection for Imelda and Hector entitled:

Before the Music Fades.

Their relationship has always been so interesting to me and so I thought it would be fun to explore what things were like for them when they first had Coco, before he left Santa Cecilia with Ernesto. I posted chapter one over on AO3 already, but I’ll post it here too in case anyone is interested in having a read!

One-shot contained under the cut 🤍

[Synopsis: Long before betrayals and goodbyes there was only music and laughter, secrets whispered under candlelight, and a love stubborn enough to withstand any storm. In this collection of one-shots, Imelda and Hector - still practically kids themselves - learn how to be parents, lovers, and partners all at once while raising their little Coco in a home full of music and hope. A small glimpse into everything the three of them were before the songs turned sour and the music faded away.]

Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66671299/chapters/172004329

The Rivera kitchen smelled faintly of soap, warm sun, and a pot of café con leche that had gone cold long ago now. It was a quiet afternoon in Santa Cecilia - clothes were out on the line, dinner was on the stove - and the table was buried beneath half-finished baby clothes, scraps of brightly coloured cloth, and a mountain of idle chatter turned gossip. Imelda, eighteen, sat at the head of the table, posture prim as ever despite the baby weighing almost painfully against her spine. Cecí, her closest friend since infancy, sat loyally at her side, sewing far more with her mouth than with her needle. "It's true! Maria told Lucia who told Sofia who told me..." She paused to take a breath. "She saw him sneaking out through the back door at dawn." She told the group in a half-whisper, Francisca setting down her sewing in surprise and Alba chuckling under her breath, shaking her head.

"¡Dios mio!" Imelda rolled her eyes. "Santa Cecilia is going to run out of secrets at this rate, the way you sniff them out. Like a street-dog to a trash can."

Cecí gave her a look. "I kept yours. I seem to remember you nearly breaking your neck climbing out of your window for a certain troubadour one night. I never said a word."

"Gracias, Cec..." Imelda muttered through gritted teeth.

Julia, rocking her nearly asleep baby boy in her arms, laughed at the other end of the table. "We all knew, Melly. The whole town knew. That esposo of yours doesn't shut up."

Imelda felt her cheeks burn as she brought the needle in her hand through the little nightdress for the hundredth time, running her thumb over the delicate little stich. "Remind me again what I was thinking when I decided to make you godmother," She glanced at Cecí, feigning annoyance. "You're going to fill my child's head with all sorts of nonsense."

"Believe me," Cecí laid a hand on her bump beneath the table, giving it a gentle pat through her dress. "You and Héctor are going to be singing my praises when the little one is here. If he or she ends up being anything like you and I were when we were little, both of you are going to need all the help you can get, corazón, I promise. We were tiranas."

They all dissolved into quiet laughter, hands working stitches carefully as they went on swapping more stories and whispered secrets they had overheard around town. Before long though, the back door opened and their chattering died down. Ernesto wandered in first - like he owned the place - his grin far too wide and far too familiar, his gaze shifting straight to where Imelda was sitting and lingering upon her a fraction too long. She felt it instantly. The little hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention. That prickle of annoyance she'd known since the afternoon she met him. Once upon a time, he'd sniffed around her like a dog. He'd cornered her in side-streets. Made drunken promises of fame and riches in an attempt to win her over. He hadn't realized - well, actually, it had probably been more that he simply hadn't cared - back then that she had already given herself, at least in heart, to Héctor. The one the women of Santa Cecilia actively ignored. The one who followed him around like a shadow, playing his guitar.

He'd had a rude awakening though when she'd made a show of leading Héctor off into a dark corner of the plaza after a dance one night, leaving him in no doubt that he was the one she truly wanted. She'd made sure he had been watching. She'd made sure he'd realized that he hadn't won. For the first time in his life, she imagined, he'd been denied something he craved. Something he believed he was entitled to. And, she was certain, he'd never quite forgiven her for doing that to him. Not even now, two years on.

She was pulled from her thoughts when right behind him came her husband himself, guitar slung clumsily across his back, sandy from the plaza, dark hair sticking to his brow with sweat, and that stupid smile of his softening when his eyes found hers. He moved around Ernesto then, forgetting for a moment he was even there, and approached her, bending to capture her mouth with his in a soft, tender kiss. It was enough to make Ceci roll her eyes and Julia avert her eyes politely, clearing her throat. He soon pulled away, the hand cradling her cheek moving to brush a raven curl behind her ear. "I missed you this morning." He mumbled as he dragged his knuckles down her cheek, voice gentle enough for only her - and a smirking Cecí - to hear him.

"Stop distracting us. If we don't get these finished soon, this child of yours will have nothing to wear," She half-scolded, smiling for a moment before it faded. "Mi amor..."

He didn't even have to turn. "Ernesto."

His friend laughed it off, reaching back to rub at the back of his neck while pretending to busy himself.

Alba, now holding Julia's sleeping son so her friend could drink her coffee, broke the tension. "So, Rivera. You ready for one of your own?"

"Not that he has much choice in the matter." Imelda added as she looked up at him, making her friends chuckle.

Héctor's expression softened and he ran a hand slowly over her hair, letting it settle on her shoulder through her shawl. "A little nervous. Well, terrified," He admitted, Imelda reaching up to rest a hand over his own. "But I've been ready for this since the day she told me. She'll be so much better at this than me anyway, so I'll just follow her lead."

Cecí tutted. "Listen to him. Encantador. Haven't you got pesos to go and play for?"

"Alright, we're going," He laughed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly at her before turning back to his wife for a second and kissing her forehead. "Try to rest this afternoon. I'll stop by the panderia on my way home and bring you something."

"Mmm, and don't you dare end up down at la cantina!" She called after him as he and Ernesto made to leave.

He could only chuckle as he followed behind his friend, making his way out of the door as the kitchen filled with quiet chuckles and hushed whispers once more.

—————

He shut the bedroom door carefully behind him, wincing as it clicked quietly into place. The room was dark except for a sliver of moonlight across the floorboards, silent except for the sound of her slow, steady breaths. He took off his hat and toed off his shoes, slightly unsteady on his feet due to the three - maybe four - shots of tequila he'd had but determined not to wake her. For a moment, he stood there next to the bed, simply watching her sleep. She was curled up on her side, a hand warmly cradling her bump and her long curls like an ink spill across her pillow. Even in sleep, she was divine. He still had no idea what he'd done to deserve her, truly, nor the life he was creating with her, but he'd do it again in a heartbeat if the need arose for him to do so. Without question. Without hesitation. He would.

He knelt on the edge of the mattress, feathering a kiss against her cheek. He should have come home hours ago. He should have been obedient and just said no when Ernesto dragged him to la cantina for 'one drink' on him. He should have been at home with her. Looking after her the way she needed. Letting her put her feet up for once. As he moved to stand again, the bedframe groaned under his weight and Imelda stirred, blinking in the dark. "Héctor?" She managed, voice heavy with sleep and laced with a familiar annoyance. "What time is it? You've been drinking."

He shrugged. "Maybe one or two. You should have seen Mariachi Plaza tonight though, amor, it was alive. So many tips. I did stop by the panaderia, but it was closed and—"

She sniffed the air, brown eyes narrowing at him as he perched on the edge of the bed and cupped her cheek beneath the curtain of her hair. "Tequila again. Ay mi, Héctor."

He chuckled sheepishly. "Lo siento. You know how persuasive Ernesto can—"

"Ah-ah-ah!" She swatted his chest, though it was clear her frustration had begun to settle. "De La Cruz is a lot of things, but he is not to blame for you not having a backbone. I know you heard me say not to go down to la cantina before you left. We need the money. We can't afford for you to throw it all away. Next time, you listen to me. You say no."

"Yes, Señora." He teased, kissing her clumsily on the mouth before climbing over her to his own side of the bed when she shoved him off, tutting, tasting liquor on his tongue. The old mattress dipped under the added weight and she grunted, tying to find a semi-comfortable position a second time while he got himself settled beneath the covers.

She felt him move closer to her once she'd stilled, lacing an arm around her waist and pulling her back against him. Her nose wrinkled. "Ugh. You smell like a cantina floor."

He laughed aloud, muffling the sound in her hair, and then brushed a warm, clumsy kiss against her neck. She felt a shiver run through her as his hold of her tightened, his thumb tracing the curve of her belly through her nightgown. "I'll bathe first thing. Promise. You won't have to make excuses for me with your mamá and papá again."

Despite herself, she relaxed beneath his touch, his mouth on her skin slowly soothing her annoyance. His voice sounded small in the darkness. Innocent, eager for forgiveness. She sighed into her pillow when he found that little spot behind her ear only he knew about. "Sometimes—" She paused for a moment. "Sometimes, it's like I married a child." She reached back, threading her fingers through his hair as he dotted sweet little kisses along her shoulder. She felt more than heard his sigh as he buried his face in her neck.

"I know and I'm sorry," He murmured, his tone more serious. "This is it now though, I mean it. I'll stop being an idiot. I'll bring tips home. I'll be everything you need me to be."

She rolled in his arms to face him - a struggle at eight months gone, but she managed - and they shared a smile when she ran the back of her hand down his cheek. "I'm not sure how much I believe the 'I'll stop being an idiot' part, but I believe all the rest," She whispered. "You have always been everything I've needed and much more, mi cielo."

"I have?" He stroked her hair from her face.

"Mm-hm," She nodded. "And you will be again for this little one. I know you will."

"I love you," He sighed, bringing a hand between them to rest tenderly upon her bump. "Both of you."

She smiled. "We know. We love you too."

He rested his lips against her forehead when she snuggled into him, sighing against her skin as he put his arm around her. "Sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

Imelda mumbled something into his shirt - something about daft men and insufferable musicians - but her voice tapered off, sleep pulling her under again, soothed by him. In the silence, he brought his hand back between them and laid his palm flat against her stomach, feeling for the faintest flutter that never came. Their little one, for once, was sound asleep.

Tomorrow, when he woke with a dull ache behind his eyes, feeling irritable and more than slightly sorry for himself, he would promise her again to be better. To do better. He would prove it with actions, not meaningless words. Tonight though, right now, with the little life they had created together safe beneath his hand and her warm breath against his throat, everything was perfect.

[dragoneyes613]

HECTOR

[awlimagines]

Part One: Them being possessive of you.

CELIA/CECILIA

Cecilia feels jealousy and depression just like anyone else. She worries when she sees you with someone else laughing at what they said or when you tell her something someone else did that you appreciated. She does not let these feelings affect her actions in noticeable ways. Ceci wants you to be happy even if you won’t be with her. So, Cecilia wears her usual soft smile and takes an interest in your conversations with her. 

Despite this, Cecilia is highly attuned to you. She can tell you when you’ll have a cold from the rain. Ceci knows without looking when you’re upset over something from the simple change in your energy. She knows everything that could bring a smile to your face and effortlessly gifts it to you. Ceci seems puzzled when people say you’re quiet and difficult to get to know. She tries to help by explaining everything she knows. When the left corner of your mouth flicks upward, you’re trying to conceal a laugh. The slight furrow of your brow combined with a frown means you’re confused and thinking. Cecilia doesn’t understand how people don’t see these obvious to her details.

GUSTAFA

Gustafa always thought he was an even-keeled kind of guy. He went with the flow and didn’t let someone’s anger stoke his own. Everyone has their struggles, and he could roll with that. Things changed some when you came into the picture. Gustafa felt himself becoming annoyed when others would spend time with you. His grip would tighten on his instrument ever so slightly while he glared through sunglasses. Gustafa knew he shouldn’t feel this way. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating or engaged. You were free to hang out with whomever you wanted. Gustafa would just prefer those people weren’t other eligible bachelors or bachelorettes. 

That was before you started dating. Gustafa was over the moon happy you chose him. He wanted to make sure everyone knew, also. He’d lace his fingers through yours and pull you closer to his side as the two of you walked through town and gave you a peck on the cheek before parting ways. Gustafa quickly discovered how to make you swoon and focus on him alone. He’d lean forward just enough to allow his glasses to slide down and reveal his eyes when smiling at you. Gustafa abused this trick when your conversations drew on, and his arm around your shoulders didn’t divert your attention back to him.

MARLIN/MATTHEW

Marlin knows he naturally looks surly. It had never been a huge problem in the valley. People there were nice enough to greet him and leave him alone if he didn’t want to speak with people. Then you arrived. Your ceaseless attempts to see him every day wormed into his heart. Marlin was very blunt in sharing how bad he thought your crops were but admired your determination to get better and how you clung intently to his advice. 

It started small. Marlin would glare from your side as someone encroached on his time with you. He didn’t think it was any different from his usual look. Marlin is pleasantly surprised with how quickly people finish speaking with you, leaving the two of you alone again. As the two of you grew closer, Marlin expressed worry about your trips to the city to see friends. It wasn’t a safe place like the valley, especially with how late you stayed out. Marlin insisted on accompanying you to walk you home through the city streets and mountain trails for safety.

NAMI

You were at the beach chatting with Nami about wanting to visit Coco Island one day after Pui talked about it. He didn’t mention many details, which is why you were intrigued. During your conversation, Molly caught sight of Nami and you. The blonde greeted you both warmly, asking what you were talking about. Molly gushed about how sweet you were to donate money to Pui like that. Nami asked about the cafe and if Griffin was working alone, grinding Molly’s conversation with you to a halt. After Molly parted to return to work, Nami spoke to you. “You know she was flirting with you, right?” 

Nami left when you asked what she meant. Molly had acted the same as always. You were still fretting over the miscommunication days later when you came across Gustafa playing outside his yurt. You were talking with him about what could have made Nami so mad when she appeared on the path toward the beach. When she saw you sitting with Gustafa, she glared before turning around and heading in the opposite direction. You gave Gustafa a quick goodbye before hustling after Nami. 

“You must be into Gustafa now. I didn’t expect you to be the type to switch so quickly. But to each their own, not like I care.” You frantically explained both Gustafa and Molly were just friends. You liked her, not either of them. You were trying to ask what you had done to upset her to fix it. Nami stood quietly, taking in your worried look before muttering not to worry about it. She ignored your confused look with a blush and asked, since you were already there if you wanted to walk to the spring with her.

ROCK

Rock believed himself to be not only the most stylish guy around but the most laidback as well. After returning to his parents’ inn after a spate of bad luck in finding a job to make him happy, Rock was living his best life. Rock could laugh off most everything without an issue, but as he grew to like you, he began having trouble. Why did everyone always want your attention? His parents would whisper bets about what bachelor or bachelorette you would settle down with. They never included his name, even though he made you laugh more than anyone else. The feelings simmered away until they came to a boil when you talked about a funny story about something you did with another person. 

“They don’t deserve you - I don’t deserve you. But at least I’m aware of it,” Rock pouted. After overcoming your shock, you reassured Rock you weren’t interested in anyone except him. His goofy antics stole your heart a while back. So, Rock took that as a go-ahead. You were shocked when Rock gave you a high-class lip stain to wear. He claimed it was just something small to help your lips from being chapped. Rock asked to see the color on you. He thought it would match your complexion and just wanted to be sure. After checking it out on yourself and loving it, you kissed Rock on the cheek before getting back to work. That had been hours ago, so why was he still wandering the town with a stain on his cheek and a smug look?

[juliedrawz]

Just a quick info for those who'd been asking me when my book will be finished.

Even though I can't give you an exact date, I really strive to finish it by the end of next year [ 2024] That's because I'm not giving myself a timelimit. Also because I travel a lot ✈️ and do some other creative projects.

How will you be able to get the book once it's done?

I will make a post and everyone who will want a copy just needs to write me and then decide if they want the physical hardcover one or the E-book.

What exactly is the book about again?

Well, Coco. Generally speaking. Or better said, it's a veeeerrryyyy very detailed mix of a prequel and a sequel 😂 The very main characters are Héctor and Ernesto, then Imelda and Ceci. Second comes Miguel and a few of my Oc's.

The book beginns where the movie stopped. In the middle you'll get to read a lot about the past of the beloved squad. There are also seperate parts that focus on one or two characters specifically. Ernesto for example.

The second half of my book will have a 3 to 4 years jump into the future. This time Miguel's little sister manages to get herself cursed to the other side and so he and Sara (I already introduced her) follow to get her back. This will also eventually lead us to the big climax of the whole story and the ending. (The ending which won't really be an ending either but much rather a new beginning 😉)

Actually, there is SO much going on in my book, I can't tell everything here. Not to forget it would be a spoiler.

What are the themes/topics targeted in the novel?

Trauma/Ptsd, violence and abuse, human psyche, loss, hurt/grief, healing, romance/Love (soulmates, one true love) friendship, forgiveness, family relationships, faith etc.

(This is basically one of the big WHY'S my book is not for children but for older teens/adults 😅🫴) you will have mild spice here and there, yes, but if you expect detailed stuff, sorry amigo 🫡 that's not my territory.

What will be the litte "addings" ?

Since I was totally free to bring my very own ideas and thoughts into my novel, I spent some good amount of time building up and exploring the world of the Land of the dead and all it's magical possibilities even further🤗 I wanted the movie to feel like the last marveling gaze you take at the glittering ocean and the horizon, and the big breath you take before diving down to the big colorful coral reef with thousands of beautiful fish.

💔⚠️The book isn't for you if:

You don't like the concept of soulmates and one true love.

You don't like exploring deeper topics

You don't like redemption arks

If you're very sensitive to strong topics such as PTSD

You're not a fan of Ernesto

If you expect smut/ premarital sex

Can't accept the fact that I bring my christian faith into the story and writing fantasy fiction my way.

🎉❤️ The book's for you if :

You love slow burn romance

Believe in one true love - soulmates

Love Fluff

Love deeper topics

You can't get enough of Imector 💞

You are in for drama

You can handle teasing of your heartstrings

[imaredshirt]

Moved three Coco oneshots over to ao3:

The Correspondence, in which Héctor finds letters in Ceci's studio from an old designer friend, all signed: Edna Mode, Designer for the Gods.

A Rainy Night, in which Héctor and Imelda engage is domestic fluff of the fluffy kind.

Duct Tape, where slightly injured Ernesto goes to Héctor for some help over a decade after the movie.

[appatary8523]

Today's ugly song because, I was thinking about my Coco Estudihambres AU.

As you know, Ceci (the seamstress) is is voiced (in Spanish) by singer Cecilia Toussaint (both are named Ceci? Coincidence? I think not (?))

Anyway (?) I think I never actually included her because she was supposed to be featured later on the story, it goes kinda like this: Ceci is a singer at some downtown bar, very popular by her talent and charisma, but also for her beautiful body.

Gustavo knew her beforehand, and she needed a new guitarist for her band. Of course, Gustavo thought of Héctor to take the role (since he's the best guitarist he knows). He invites him to the bar to introduce him, and as soon as Héctor enters tthe place he listens Cecilia singing and falls for her (of course, Ceci would have the singing of Ceci Toussaint (?)). After the performance they talk and it turns out she kinda likes Héctor too. This wouldn't be a problem if Héctor wasn't already with Imelda (you know the deal, they like each other, they act like a couple, they just haven't asked the other if they'd like to formalize).

There's also another problem. Héctor finds out later that Ceci was Ernesto's girlfriend, one he was really happy with, one he really loved (things fell apart quite bad, Ceci broke up with him). And of course, Ernesto feels jealous, the girl wants nothing to do with him but he will not allow Héctor to be with her, not in the band or any other way.

Héctor would fight against temptation, he know he loves Imelda but Ceci flirts with him at any given Chance, even harder after realizing Ernesto tries to break them apart.

And, kinda like that. Idk, back then I was really invested in that story, and for quite obvious reasons I felt like to write this (?)

[maisondesbieres]

Nouveautés 11 Avril

Les beer weekend on a toujours hâte à cela:

BreWskey - Pub, Taproom & Annexe

- IMPERIAL BREW JUICE - 100% FRAMBOISE

Imperial Smoothie Sour - Framboise

- EXTRACTION

IPA - Citra & Cryo Ekuanot

- BLACKMORE ROAD

IPA - Motueka & Nelson Sauvin de la ferme Néo-Zélandaise Garston

@noctem_artisans_brasseurs

- HyperPack 2025

Notre HYPERPACK 2025 est une sélection exclusive de 4 doubles NEIPAS au format 473 ml, où le houblon en format Hyperboost™ est à son apogée. Il contient la HYPERNELSON, la HYPERCATNIP, la HYPERKRUSH et la HYPERCITRA. Chaque bière de cette collection met en valeur l’intensité et la richesse des houblons, créant des profils aromatiques explosifs et délicieusement fruités.

- Crumble des tropiques

La mangue, l’abricot, le biscuit Graham, les amandes, la vanille, la noix de coco grillée et le lactose se combinent dans cette bière pour en faire un véritable dessert ensoleillé! Légèrement acidulée et avec une finale bien ronde, elle est tout aussi parfaite pour l’apéro que pour le dessert!

Gaspard Brasserie Artisanale

- Ceci n'est pas de la crème de menthe

Une Oatcream IPA juteuse à souhait avec du Nelson Sauvin et Nectaron. Contient du lactose

- Parfait aux figues de barabarie et Litchi

Une bière aux fruits qui fait presque Smoothie grâce à une grosse dose de figues de barbarie et de litchi. Contient du lactose et vanille.

- Tmavé Pivo

Première Lager noire de Gaspard. De grande soif tout en présentant de belles notes torréfiées.

[darkpalmor]

4 SEPTEMBRE 2024

Programme de rentrée et de petits morceaux.

1°) Improvisation sur thème imposé (5 minutes, 5 lignes) : Un mot riche de sens pour l’inspiration. Le verbe « secouer ».

Quand on secouera les cocotiers, il faudra surveiller ce qui en tombe : un coquin, une coquine, un coco, ça va encore. Si c’est un singe, attention : ça mord et ça griffe. Si c’est un ancêtre mal accroché, il faudra lui creuser un lit de repos éternel dans le sable de la plage.

2°) Démarreur (10 minutes) : 6 mots pour une histoire de haine. « Il la haïssait, cette vieille vache. » On partira de cette phrase (début du roman Dissimulation de preuves, de Donna Leon, 2004) pour raconter une histoire pleine de méchanceté, qui se finira de façon brusque.

Il la haïssait, cette vieille vache. Depuis le temps qu’elle donnait plus de coups de pieds que de bidons de lait, qu’elle traînait le long des chemins en semant exprès ses bouses sur les zones encore propres de la route départementale, il avait envie de s’en débarrasser. Mais voilà, elle lui faisait un veau par an, et quel veau ! Un mâle chaque fois, un qui attire les primes, un de ceux que les bouchers s’arrachent, un que les voisins envient et réclament pour en faire un géniteur de leurs génisses de merde… Alors il lui criait dessus sans cesse, lui refilait un coup de trique sur les jarrets pour la faire avancer, la menaçait de l’équarrisseur… Le jour où il eut son petit AVC et qu’il se trouva allongé sur la litière alors qu’il s’apprêtait à lui adapter les trayons de la machine, elle se coucha bien tranquillement sur lui, de tout son poids, ses cinq cents kilos se relevèrent un quart d’heure plus tard, et elle attendit la suite des événements.

Il la haïssait, cette vieille vache de professeur de musique. Des gammes, toujours les mêmes notes, tiens tes doigts comme ceci, reprends à la mesure 17, tu n’y arriveras jamais, à la semaine prochaine… Etc. Le violon, ça lui sortait par les trous de nez. Il en faisait des cauchemars, il voyait des archets partout. Et ses parents qui lui demandaient s’il avait fait des progrès ! Et son petit frère qui avait la chance de faire poney au lieu de musique ! Il allait devenir fou, il voulait tuer quelqu’un. Aussi, quand elle lui annonça fin juin que ses parents avaient fait le sacrifice de lui payer une année supplémentaire il fut incapable de se retenir, et lui brisa sur la tête une belle imitation de Stradivarius, qui avait tout de même coûté plus de deux mille euros, et il repartit, calme et soulagé. Juste après, il avait piscine. Et la monitrice était vraiment canon.

3°) États d’âme dans le placard (10-15 minutes) : L’aspirateur s’ennuie. On fera parler cet objet domestique, et il nous dira sa vie quotidienne, ses joies, ses peines…

Mes compagnons de travail m’ennuient. Le balai brosse se la joue prétentieuse, la tête au-dessus de tout le monde, bien appuyé sur son manche dans le petit seau en plastique, il nous méprise tous même quand on le ramène avec les cheveux trempés. Le balai à franges, lui, n’a aucune conversation. Toujours la tête dans le seau, il lâche des borborygmes incompréhensibles, et il pue. Quant aux trois serpillières, c’est rien que des loques effrangées, étalées en vrac sur le vieux porte-torchons qu’on a mis au rebut. Moi, je rumine. Il ne faut pas croire que, même débranché, je ne pense pas. Je rumine tout ce que le mari de madame me fait subir : et que je te cogne contre les plinthes ! Et que je te coupe le souffle sur le tapis persan ! Et que je te déroule le câble d’alimentation comme pour démarrer une tronçonneuse ! On me bourre de saloperies inimaginables et innommables. Cet abruti, la dernière fois, m’a fait aspirer une crotte de chat échappée de la litière. Je me suis senti tout visqueux et j’ai failli vomir. J’attends patiemment le court-circuit final qui me délivrera, je rêve que cet imbécile, un jour de bringue, me plonge dans la cuvette des WC. Alors là, les amis, je vous le jure, je lui promets une électrocution parfaite. Il va sentir passer les watts et les volts ! Pour moi, ce sera juste un petit flash, rapide, sans souffrance. Libre ! Enfin libre !

4°) Défragmentation (15 minutes) : Étoffer des bribes. Voici cinq extraits de petits poèmes d’un même auteur, Noël Bernard. Il s’agira de les replacer, dans l’ordre qu’on voudra, et de les étoffer en une dizaine de lignes, en construisant un discours adressé à une personne qui sera peu à peu identifiable. « … vague après vague il se brise au pied des murailles … » « … cette braise dans ton cœur enflamme une … » « … Lève les bras vers le ciel, fais pleuvoir l’eau qui … » « … détourne tes yeux de l’enfant qui … » « … livre son mystère à qui sait l’ouvrir … »

Cette braise dans ton cœur enflamme une passion qui emportera tout sur son passage, un torrent d’amour du bien et de la justice qui te donnera tout pouvoir sur le monde qui t’entoure. Comme un océan, vague après vague il se brise au pied des murailles de cet univers de violence, mais il finira par les abattre. Allez ! Lève les bras vers le ciel, fais pleuvoir l’eau qui alimentera ce flot salvateur ! Ne fais plus confiance à celui qui détourne tes yeux de l’enfant qui pleure, regarde en face les douleurs, prends pitié des souffrances, et agis ! Ouvre ton cœur, et tu verras, mon ami, toi qui jusqu’ici ne te préoccupais de rien, que l’humanité livre son mystère à qui sait l’ouvrir, et la Fraternité s’étendra sur la Terre, enfin.

[alite-pinguin]

Coco ex Cocoland a t-il définitivement fermé ses portes ?

En ces temps de rencontres en ligne, de tchats et de discussions virtuelles, certains se souviennent probablement du tchat Coco, autrefois connu sous le nom de Cocoland. Cette plateforme avait su se démarquer dans le monde du tchat en ligne grâce à ses nombreuses fonctionnalités, sa modération active et ses salons de discussions variés. Mais tout ceci appartient-il désormais au passé ? Coco…

[yeahowlfashion]

Coco ex Cocoland a t-il définitivement fermé ses portes ?

En ces temps de rencontres en ligne, de tchats et de discussions virtuelles, certains se souviennent probablement du tchat Coco, autrefois connu sous le nom de Cocoland. Cette plateforme avait su se démarquer dans le monde du tchat en ligne grâce à ses nombreuses fonctionnalités, sa modération active et ses salons de discussions variés. Mais tout ceci appartient-il désormais au passé ? Coco…

[matasse2the]

Coco ex Cocoland a t-il définitivement fermé ses portes ?

En ces temps de rencontres en ligne, de tchats et de discussions virtuelles, certains se souviennent probablement du tchat Coco, autrefois connu sous le nom de Cocoland. Cette plateforme avait su se démarquer dans le monde du tchat en ligne grâce à ses nombreuses fonctionnalités, sa modération active et ses salons de discussions variés. Mais tout ceci appartient-il désormais au passé ? Coco…

[hectic-hector]

Throwback Thursday: March 2020

What I think Ceci looked like when she was alive. 

[chimusume]

Coco ex Cocoland a t-il définitivement fermé ses portes ?

En ces temps de rencontres en ligne, de tchats et de discussions virtuelles, certains se souviennent probablement du tchat Coco, autrefois connu sous le nom de Cocoland. Cette plateforme avait su se démarquer dans le monde du tchat en ligne grâce à ses nombreuses fonctionnalités, sa modération active et ses salons de discussions variés. Mais tout ceci appartient-il désormais au passé ? Coco…

[finaguide]

Les traditions de Madagascar reposaient sur deux cultures: africaine et asiatique

Ceci est particulièrement visible dans . Les aborigènes sont très friands de riz et en mangent tous les jours. De la viande, des légumes, des épices, des sauces, du poisson ou des fruits de mer (homards, oursins, crabes) sont souvent ajoutés à ce produit. De nombreuses recettes incluent de l'ail, des piments verts et d'autres ingrédients épicés.

Les plats les plus courants à Madagascar sont :

salade ro - riz aux herbes locales;

salade d'ananas - riz aux crevettes et légumes (maïs, haricots, tomates) ;

filet de zébu - viande d'antilope grillée avec des épices ajoutées.

Pour les boissons, vous devriez essayer le vin de coco, le litchi ou le rhum local, par exemple, "Dzama", "Tuaca gras" ou "Cazenave". Il est préférable d'acheter des plats cuisinés dans des magasins spécialisés, et acheter des produits dans la rue peut être dangereux pour la santé.

Les meilleurs restaurants du pays sont La Varangue (à Tananarive), Le Relais de la Reine (à Fianarantsoa) et La Table d'Alexandre (à Nous Be).

Les magasins de Madagascar sont ouverts en semaine de 08h00 à 17h30, le samedi jusqu'à 13h00 et le dimanche est généralement fermé ici. La sieste diurne dure de 12h00 à 15h00 ou de 13h00 à 16h00. Négocier dans les magasins est un must, même si les prix ne sont pas gonflés pour les étrangers.

L'unité monétaire de l'État est l'ariary malgache (МGA). Il est égal à 5 ​​irambilanyam. Des billets en coupures de 10 000, 5 000, 1 000, 500, 200 et 100 MGA circulent dans le pays.

[christellekedi]

Grand-Mère

Née un 25 décembre 193..., Tu T'appelais Marie-Louise Noëlle. Mère de ma Maman, Tes funérailles se sont achevées le weekend dernier. Tu étais ma dernière Grand-Mère en vie. Mariée à 18 ans, Maman à 19, veuve à 44 ans et toujours matriarche...

Les vérandas où tu passais beaucoup de temps, n'auront plus la même signification pour moi désormais...

Dans nos traditions, parce que Tu a eu:

- 9 enfants,

-44 petit-enfants et

-une douzaine d'arrière-petits-enfants,

le "tambour" a resonné pour Toi 24/24, 7/7 de l'annonce de Ton départ à Ton enterrement...des nuits et jours durant. Ceci afin que Ta nombreuse descendance entende le tambour de n'importe quelle contrée et vienne Te saluer... Ceci afin de montrer Ton exemple, celui du choix de la postérité nombreuse...

De Toi, j'ai la taille, la silhouette, la pointure, la coquetterie, la discipline, le franc-parler, la faiblesse pour les fruits que Tu nous as appris à choisir, manger, faire pousser: corossolle, fruit de la passion, goyave, papaye, mangue, noix de coco, ananas...

De Toi, j'ai bien d'autres choses aussi...

Grand-Mère, parler de Toi au passé m'est déjà pénible!

Je suis apaisée de T'avoir eu à mes côtés jusqu'à mon âge actuel, de T'avoir vu à un stade avancé de Ta vie.

Bon voyage!

...

[imelda-and-hector-are-otp]

📂 for ceci?

For as long as she could remember Ceci loved sewing, but she didn’t become a professional seamstress until she came to the land of the dead.

Back in the Land of the Living she loved to make costumes for her nieces and nephews and her friends children but she never thought to make a career out of it. Once she got to the Land of the Dead she answered an add placed by a theater that needed extra help with the costume and set designs for an upcoming show. Everyone was super impressed with her work and she became almost an overnight sensation! Before she knew it she was designing costumes for some of the most well remembered people throughout history and she would trade it for anything in the world.