skyclearing - Tumblr blog

[skyclearing]

Really proud of my latest chapter, including a long dialogue sequence between the triplets & spouses. 

[skyclearing]

Consistently amazed at what a great job they did with all the family resemblances. 

They have exactly the same face, like wtf.

I actually love this.

[skyclearing]

In the mood for some Monday fluff to get you going? Preview: 

Alma Madrigal had revised her beliefs so many times over the years. She had once believed that neighbors could never turn on each other, that she and Pedro would raise their children together, that miracles ended in Bible times, that a house could not be a living thing, that the only way to keep her family safe was to make them perfect, that Isabela was happy, that Mirabel weakened the miracle … oh, so many things. Alma Madrigal had no intention of revising her belief that donkeys do not live indoors. Alma Madrigal also had a heart, and was finding it increasingly difficult to meet the gaze of three pairs of huge, pleading brown eyes—Antonio, Luisa, and the impossibly small donkey foal tucked in Luisa’s arms like a puppy. 

“But she can’t sleep outside,” Antonio said. “She’s too little. She should be sleeping with her mother.” He tried to say it politely. Animals had different ways, being friends with them meant understanding that. It still seemed really unfair to refuse to even feed your baby or keep it warm because it was too small! He didn’t like Orejita very much right now.

[skyclearing]

Mirabel (reading note): Is this a “5″ or an “S”? Camilo: Five, yo. No, wait ... S. No, no ... yeah, five. Mirabel: Jesus, how the hell do you spell “street” wrong? S-T-R-E-A-T? Camilo: I’m slingin’ mad volume and fat-stackin’ benjis, you know what I’m sayin’? I can’t be all about, like, spelling and shit. 

[skyclearing]

Alma has Seen Some Shit and queer people are the least of her worries. 

Alma is bi actually and she supports all her queer kids and grandkids

[skyclearing]

Agustin: Your body is running dangerously low on electrolytes. Sodium, potassium, calcium. And when they’re gone, your brain ceases to communicate with your muscles. Your lungs stop breathing. Your heart stops pumping. You go marching out there and within an hour you will be dead. 

Bruno: Okay. You need to cut out all of your loser cry-baby crap RIGHT NOW and think of something SCIENTIFIC. 

[skyclearing]

How DID Bruno know about telenovelas? Ah, that is the secret of La Cueva!  Excerpt:  “Once you kids came along, it was all hands on deck! Everybody stepped up, townspeople came in to help, everything got handled, but it wasn’t a good idea to have all three of us away from Casita and unreachable for a whole day. And THEN—” Felix sort of expanded as he always did when he drew in his breath before the good part of a story. Camilo marveled at the same-size-yet-now-much-larger man in front of him. Not for the first time, it occurred to him that his gift came down from both sides.

“Then, Casita gave us La Cuevo de los Hermanos.” He leaned back and kicked his feet up a bit, reminiscing happily. “One night some friends of Abuela’s were coming over to play cards and keep an eye on the babies so your mami and Julieta could get some extra sleep. Bruno said it would be nice if we could hang out again, so we planned to have drinks in the kitchen. But each of us went to our rooms beforehand—and we each saw a new door that hadn’t been there before.  So we all went through, and found ourselves together—”

“In La Cuevo de los Hermanos?”

[skyclearing]

(After Antonio has asked Mirabel to accompany him at the gift ceremony)

Mirabel (to Abuela): I know you don’t care for me. We’ve had our issues, you and I. But I would suggest you leave emotion out of this decision. 

Alma: I am. You are trouble. I’m sorry the kid here doesn’t see it, but I sure as hell do. 

[skyclearing]

Bruno’s fucking impossible to write, don’t give each other shit about it, y’all. His life experiences have been unimaginable, and his personality is extremely paradoxical. He’s 50 and a prophet and immature, empathetic and thoughtless, mentally ill and from a time and place we aren’t, traumatized and more okay than most people would be because magic/Disney/symbolism. 

Honestly we’re all just trying to our best by the weird rat man.

[skyclearing]

Pepa to Felix: You think I’m trouble now, as your partner? Imagine me as your enemy. 

[skyclearing]

Isabela: You want me to kill every man on that list?

Mirabel: Wow, that’s a leap. No, that I didn’t say that. But if you think it would be wise ...

[skyclearing]

Bruno: So what’s next?  Antonio: Oh, I don’t know. This Madrigal thing seems hinky, though, you know? 

[skyclearing]

Just basically do an “Encanto” version of “The Trouble with Tribbles” except it’s Bruno’s rats

that trope where someone’s been told to hand in their weapons and they keep pulling a comically improbable amount of knives out of increasingly unlikely pockets and cuffs and socks but it’s bruno with rats stuffed in every spare fold of clothing

[skyclearing]

Coming up on 30,000 words of “Encanto” fanfic and I STILL spell it “Augustin” every #!@#*$_#^* time and have to go back and correct it. 

The joke Agustin would make: “I should say I do reader insert fanfic because I put ‘u’ into everything.”

[skyclearing]

Alma: Why would anyone want to put a metal ring through their prick?  Bruno: What are you looking at me for? 

[skyclearing]

Anyone wants drawing prompts hit me up, I have several ideas! Tell me which characters you most like to draw. 

[skyclearing]

Mirabel: I’m gonna need some kind of assurance.  Isabela: I assure you I can kill you from way over here, if it makes you feel any better.