#godfather bruno

[qiornono]

gang☆star movie redraws part 2!!!!

part 1 here

[vermutandherring]

Title says it all: 8 Mafia inspired characters for The Sims 4

Before you download: • Everyone is Base game + Custom content (listed within the archive) • I play with HQ mod so specific mods are HQ. • All characters use almost identical mods so be ware of the duplicates if you decide to install few of them. • 'Enhanced Eye' and 'Hand Size' sliders may cause problems like invisible hand or no eye. Can be fixed via restarting game or changing sim in CAS with corresponded slider. • Some hairstyles have a barely noticeable gap with the skull. If it bothers you a lot, try changing hairstyle or the shape of sim' head, making it a little wider.

Download:

• Michael Corleone • Bruno Bucciarati • Tommy Angelo • • Sam Trapani • Vito Scaletta • Henry Tomasino • • Vittorio Puzo • Goro Majima •

Epilogue

I had so much fun with the boys 🌚

CC Credits:

Hair by @johnnysimmer @wistfulpoltergeist @lexel-sims-cc Suits by @marvinsims @darte77 @linzlu KK's creation and others~ Genetics by @okruee @sims3melancholic @lamatisse @pralinesims @goppolsme and others~

Billiards poses by NICKNAME x Guell Smoking poses by @bedisfull x @effiethejay Revolver poses by @sewersims

All screenshots are taken with Metamorphoses ReShade preset by @bimbles-and-simbles

... And other amazing creators 🖤

If there are any problems, please let me know.

[lolobizarreadventuresshatpost]

When your kids start dancing during the torture session

[jackcalavera]

I find this fitting 😌

[nellycanwrite]

Mateo’s Reverie; His Alejandra

His Alejandra. His everything.

Mateo Alcantara had met the most daring, the most adventurous, the most eccentric woman one summer afternoon—when the sun had glared into his tired gait near the clearing of a nearby river. He was exhausted from all the day’s work alongside Pedro, but the man was too smitten with his new love, Alma, to even take a rest with him near the river anymore. It was fine by him by all means, but he could use a little company to enjoy the shade of the tabebuia after a job well done.

That was when he heard it; the undeniable sound of splashing water.

Mateo was a cautious man of twenty years. With the rumors of troops being deployed to enlist a greater number of soldiers to aid the revolution of Greater Colombia, he became wary of the steps and the splashes that came with the water that flowed upstream. He cautiously brandished his eskrima sticks and took a stance.

It was now or never.

He peered around the bark of the tabebuia, expecting armed soldiers, possibly an armada, to head his way. But he stopped and stared at the image laid before him; the beautiful glow of smoky quartz clothed in a skirt of baby’s breath, the sway of wild coils in a simple braid of the finest umber—there, standing before him with undertones of the most innocent of blues, was a woman. 

Dare he not speak in the presence of such marvelous beauty. He was awestruck, and rightfully so. She skipped and laughed by herself as she played with the koi that beat the current, twirled around with the grace of a swan with the twinkle of cool summer drops around her like a halo of holy water, and she danced and danced like she had never danced before. No music nor beat was by their wake, yet she continued to leap through the air and splash through the water with ease.

It would have been a sight to behold, something he would have passed off as a nymph that descended the earth and came to play. But he had to look away, face flushed and embarrassed, when he realized his indecency.

This mystery woman was only wearing a chemise with her skirt hiked up and tied to show her bloomers. 

He would have walked away. He would leave then and there. He would have burned this to memory and turned back. But as soon as he locked eyes with her, he was immediately sent into a trance of topaz and gold. She looked bewildered at first. Surprised at the sight of a man who had set his gaze upon her exposed shoulders. Yet she held no regard to such thought, no. She smiled at this man and ran to him with a laugh, putting her hands behind her back and looking at him through the thick lashes that framed her eyes so delicately. No lady should be this shameless, Mateo thought. No lady should show her bloomers nor her chemise in the presence of another man that was not her husband. Yet here she was, without a care in the world

“Señorita, if I may, you are without your skirt and blouse.” He said, his face turned sharply to look away. The woman stared and laughed.

“Señor, that is of no concern to me. The weather is as hot as it is, is it not? There’s no need for stuffy blouses to weigh me down in such a cool river. Let me enjoy my peace.”

“Your peace warrants nothing but trouble if a man would find you like this.”

“Are you not a man, Señor?” She asked. Mateo looked away further.

“I am not like other men, Señorita. You’re fortunate enough to have only gotten me other than some boorish hooligan who would prey on you the second you hike up your skirt.”

The woman walked forth and placed a gentle hand on the eskrima sticks that were still poised at his sides. “Indeed, a man who raises a weapon against a woman is ‘not like other men.’ Tell me, is it mere hypocrisy or your innate wariness that is doing the talk?”

Mateo was quiet, his head still turned. Was this woman not cautious of a man in her presence when she was without a blouse nor a proper skirt? There were no means for a woman to fight when she was vulnerable especially during wartimes—

He was proven wrong, though, when his world spun and turned upside-down. When he had regained his bearings, his head was on the floor with his eskrima sticks missing from his sides. When he looked up, he only saw the beautiful smile of a coy woman who twirled his weapons around with expert ease.

When she leaned forth, he could not take his eyes away from her own; it twinkled with the brilliance of wit, of determination, adventure, and mischief. She was not arrogant by any means, no. She was simply wearing her victory in pride.

That was the moment when Mateo had fallen in love with the woman who introduced herself as Alejandra Guerrero.

And his darling granddaughter, Angelina Madrigal, shared the same eyes as the warrior that he had sworn to love for eternity. 

[imaginationhyperload]

I wouldn’t be too surprised if Bruno was Mirabel’s Godfather. Anyone else agree?

[citizenscreen]

Young Clemenza and Corleone in THE GODFATHER PART II (1974)

[thatgeekwiththeclipons]

Remembering character actor Bruno Kirby ^__^

[kemetic-dreams]

1938 - PAULINE JOHNSON and FELICE BOUDREAUX, sisters, were once slaves on the plantation of Dermat Martine, near Opelousas, Louisiana. As their owners were French, they are more inclined to use a Creole patois than English.

"Us was both slaves on de old plantation close to Opelousas," Pauline began. As the elder of the two sisters she carried most of the conversation, although often referring to Felice before making positive statements.

"I was 12 year old when freedom come and Felice was 'bout six. Us belonged to Massa Dermat Martine and the missy's name Mimi. They raise us both in the house and they love us so they spoil us. I never will forget that. The little white chillen was younger than me, 'bout Felice's age. They sho' had pretty li'l curly black hair.

"Us didn't have hard time. Never even knowed hard time. That old massa, he what you call a good man.

"Us daddy was Renee and he work in the field. The old massa give him a mud and log house and a plot of ground for he own. The rain sho' never get in that log house, it so tight. The furniture was homemake, but my daddy make it good and stout.

"Us daddy he work de ground he own on Sunday and sold the things to buy us shoes to put on us feet and clothes. The white folks didn't give us clothes but they let him have all the money he made in his own plot to get them.

"Us mama name Marguerite and she a field hand, too, so us chillen growed up in the white folks house mostly. 'Fore Felice get big enough to leave I stay in the big house and take care of her.

"One day us papa fall sick in the bed, just 'fore freedom, and he kep' callin' for the priest. Old massa call the priest and just 'fore us papa die the priest marry him and my mama. 'fore dat they just married by the massa's word.

"Felice and me, us have two brothers what was born and die in slavery, and one sister still livin' in Bolivar now. Us three uncles, Bruno and Pophrey and Zaphrey, they goes to the war. Them three dies too young. The Yankees stole them and make them boys fight for them.

"I never done much work but wash the dishes. They wasn't poor people and they uses good dishes. The missy real particular 'bout us shinin' them dishes nice, and the silver spoons and knives, too.

"Them white people was good Christian people and they christen us both in the old brick Catholic church in Opelousas. They done torn it down now. Missy give me pretty dress to get christen in. My godmother, she Mileen Nesaseau, but I call her 'Miran'. My godfather called 'Paran.'

"On Sunday mornin' us fix our dress and hair and go up to the missy's looking-glass to see if us pretty enough go to church. Us goes to Mass every Sunday mornin' and church holiday, and when the cullud folks sick massa send for the priest same's for the white folks.

"We wears them things on the strings round the neck for the good of the heart. They's nutmeg.

"The plantation was a big, grand place and they have lots of orange trees. The slaves pick them oranges and pack then down on the barrel with la mosse (Spanish moss) to keep them. They was plenty pecans and figs, too.

"In slavery time most everybody round Opelousas talk Creole. That make the words hard to come sometime. Us both talk that better way than English.

"Durin' the war, it were a sight. Every mornin' Capt. Jenerette Bank and he men go a hoss-back drillin' in the pasture and then have drill on foot. A white lady take all us chillen to the drill ground every mornin'. Us take the lunch food in the basket and stay till they done drill out.

"I can sing for you the song they used to sing:

"O, de Yankee come to put de nigger free,

Says I, says I, pas bonne;

In eighteen-sixty-three,

De Yankee get out they gun and say,

Hurrah! Let's put on the ball.

"When war over none the slaves wants leave the plantation. My mama and us chillen stays on till old massa and missy dies, and then goes live on the old Repridim place for a time.

"Both us get marry in that Catholic church in Opelousas. As for me, it most too long ago to talk about. His name Alfred Johnson and he dead 12 years. Our youngest boy, John, go to the World War. Two my nephews die in that war and one nephew can't walk now from that war.

"Felice marry Joseph Boudreaux and when he die she come here to stay with me. There's more hard time now than in the old day for us, but I hope things get better.

[ddarker-dreams]

Idk if you’ve already done this or not, but if you haven’t bucci hang finding out sr reader is pregnant please and like how they would be during reader’s pregnancy

I'M ON IT 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ 

[Planned it]

Giorno

He just kinda.... holds you for a few minutes. No words are spoken, yet you don’t think they’re necessary; it’s as if your souls eclipsed and become one for the briefest instance. The two of you had discussed this at great length before, but actually experiencing it feels so much different. When he pulls back, he cups your face in his hands. He’s confident that you’re going to be a wonderful mother. Underneath his joy, he can’t help but wonder if he’ll be a good father. The closest thing he had to a father figure was a nameless gangster who watched over him from afar. Giorno wants to give your child the love he never had growing up. Sensing his internal conflict, you reassure him that you’ve both got this. He won’t be alone in navigating these concerns. You remind him that you’re both a team (though you proudly claim to be team captain, to which he chuckles), soothing away his budding fear. He’ll set aside as much time as he can from his Don obligations to dote on you. 

Bruno

This is a day that will live forever in his mind. Bruno looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. While you may never know this since he finds it embarrassing, he used to fantasize about the idea of building a family with you. Maybe retiring from Passione and moving back to his childhood town, getting a house on the water, taking your children to all the best fishing spots his dad taught him about. While carrying out this exact fantasy might not be in the cards yet, being with you is already a dream come true. Expect to be picked up and spun around (until he worries that you might get dizzy and puts you down with the utmost gentleness). The man is beaming, taking your hands in his, thanking you over and over. He lost his family at a young but is now able to be part of a new one with you. Not even five minutes later, he’s planning out the dimensions and wallpaper for the future nursery...

[Messed around with the idea — still a surprise pregnancy]

Mista

His eyes get all wide and he cannot wipe the smile off his face. He keeps asking really? Really? In this high pitched voice to confirm whether or not this is actually happening. Pistols are cheering at the prospect of having “Number Seven” and start heatedly debating who should get to be the godfather. Mista almost tackle hugs you, mutters a quick oh shit after remembering he should probably treat you delicately now, then covers his mouth. Quietly asks if the baby could hear that or not (you say you doubt it). He’s always been more of a go with the flow type, but increases his intentionality in the months that follow. He starts practicing how to change diapers on a doll (Pistols snitched on this to you). No matter how flustered you get due to the side effects of pregnancy, his chill aura always remains. He’s great at keeping you grounded — almost nothing fazes him. You could ask him to bake you cookies at two in the morning and he’s on it stat. No complaints, just an endless well of love for his cute wife. 

Narancia

He’s smothering your face in smooches because of how hype he is. Narancia becomes an unbridled ball of energy, practically bouncing off the walls, firing a thousand questions per second. When does the kicking start? Can the little one hear him yet? Before you can give an answer, he’s already kneeling, speaking in a soft tone in the general direction of your stomach. Introduces himself as “your super cool papa” and is already giving name suggestions. You weren’t sure what reaction to anticipate but this display is beyond heartwarming. Narancia is swearing that the little one is going to have the best parents ever, that he can’t wait to meet them, and encourages them “to keep doing your best in there” while gesturing at your stomach. Narancia will be telling everyone in the general vicinity that you’re with child while puffing out his chest. If someone takes your seat on the bus, he’s ready to jump them, even when you explain it’s fine because you’re not showing yet. He’s basically counting down the days until your due date. 

[UH OH very much a surprise pregnancy]

Fugo

You can practically see him doing all the calculations in his head to determine the percentage of this happening. The number he arrives at is astronomically low, since you both took precautions to prevent this from happening. While he thinks he’s in a better place mentally compared to his teenage years, self-doubt swirls in his mind, and he stands there shell-shocked until you keep calling his name. Fugo already wrestles with the insecurity that you could do better than being with someone like him, he just never thinks he can be good enough. Sitting down and talking things over with you helps a lot. He apologizes — saying that it’s you he should be focusing on right now — but you never demean him or look impatient. He solemnly swears that if you want to keep the child, he’ll give it his all too. What starts out as apprehension cold as winter melts into the budding excitement of spring as the months progress. You both attend parenting classes, he’s reading more developmental psychology books than you can count, and he shows up to every doctor’s appointment thirty minutes early. It makes you wish he could see the good in himself that you see everyday. 

Abbacchio

Abbacchio is conflicted to say the least, but to no fault of your own. This is a big commitment. Naturally, he’s committed to you, it’s just that he never gave much thought to raising a kid. He’s worried he’ll screw up somehow and ruin the child for life. If you decide to keep it, he’ll take responsibility of course, there’s just a lot for him to work through mentally. He circumvents this by almost overfocusing on you and neglecting himself. He’ll make sure you’re always comfortable, shoos you off whenever you try to do chores, starts putting in extra hours to further cushion your finances. Keeping busy is an effective method for a while, until he starts to get burnt out. Up until that point, he’s tip-toed around the conversation whenever you try to bring it up, but you finally manage to get his real thoughts when you start crying. He can never stand to see you cry. He lets everything out, the good, the bad, the ugly. Everything can’t be resolved and neatly tied up in a single evening, but it’s a good place to start. Abbacchio feels closer to you and somewhat more secure about the future. 

[glendybluebird]

💜💚Familia Guerrera-Luna💛💙❤️

✨Their triplet dynamic and some info about their parents. Sorry, it's been a while. Been a little too busy these days. Anyway, here's their redesign. I would've drawn more if only my tablet didn't get broken. Drawing with my phone and fingers takes me soooo long to finish. Funfact: - Again, Alora/Luna's real or legal name is "Alora" -The three have some triplet intuition where they feel a harsh pinch when and where one of them is hurt. This started when Alora had an accident. -Imelda was actually 5'10" and Manuel was around 5'6" -Lauro and Lorenzo are currently around 5'6" to 5'7". They take after Imelda. -Luna is currently around 5'2" to 5'3". -Bruno is the triplet's godfather -Bruno was the best man at Imelda and Manuel's wedding

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

"Bruno, what did you tell that man? He's a clever man, did you know? I bet he works for the government."

Remus is tired of sitting here. The DMLE interrogation rooms were about as comfortable as the day after a full moon. The aurors were no better. As far as they were concerned he was an accomplice. As far as they were concerned Remus was just as responsible for the murder of his best friends. He thinks of Harry. His skin still thrums with the residual magic of the Veritaserum. A whole vial was unnecessary but Remus complied - a means to an end. Wrong. An ache burrows into the front of his skull, the result of an overly strong Legilimens. Remus knows what they saw, knows there was no way in hell they hadn't felt the betrayal rolling through his bloodstream. He knows there was no way they hadn't felt the love either.

"I think it's real unfair that you should put him there. All we did is kiss, on my grave, I swear. Where did you find his shoes? A lock of my hair?"

Remus sits in a ring of Sirius' belongings. Everything in reach is covered in dust. A year had passed and only now could Remus bear to stand in the house he lived in. 'With Sirius.' he amends in his head. A year of not saying his name, not acknowledging the life or the love they had shared before. He was surprised that the wards had let him in. Sirius could never shake the paranoia that running instilled in him. Sirius only allowed three people free passage to his home, and two of them were dead. And it was his fault. Remus knew what the evidence looked like, knew it was so convincing that a trial was deemed unnecessary. Yet Remus still ponders, traces his hand over the only framed pictures Sirius possessed: Lily and James and Harry in a gold frame, Regulus in a black frame, and him and Sirius in a glass frame, 'toujours pur' engraved below them. Sirius carved in the Black Family motto as a mockery of the life he had left behind, would whisper to Remus that the only pure thing he had done was love him. Remus met his own eyes in the picture - he and Sirius were stood in the garden doorway at the Potter's manor, Euphemia and Fleamont stood behind the camera. Remus couldn't understand, couldn't articulate how he feels. He places the frames on the floor and leaves. Sometimes he closes his eyes and wonders if thinks about Sirius hard enough, maybe he would feel it too.

"Some dull morning we were wearing sheets and he whispered, "I think that they know better than me""

Sirius and Remus were babysitting. Harry was sound asleep in his tiny cot, just meters away from them. They were exhausted and babies were hard work. Harry was barely 9 months - out in the world for just as long as it took to create him. Sirius was elated when Lily asked him to be godfather, kissed Remus so thoroughly as tears rolled down his cheeks. Remus couldn't help but feel a little down in that moment, jealous of Sirius, of the role he would play in Harry's life. He couldn't tell anyone either. Harry was a gift, a moment of relief in the middle of a war zone. He could understand why James and Lily chose to have a baby, he could understand why now and not later. Harry shifted in the cot - a restless stretch with a furrow between his brow, a sign he would wake up. With his eyes closed, Harry resembled all of his father - thick hair, thick lashes, bronzed like the sun was in love with him. Remus gently cradled him close to his chest, and moved back to Sirius. Back to bed. Back to a version of events that didn't quite exist yet. As they sat next to each other, baby between, Remus allowed himself to imagine the future - something perhaps similar to this. Sirius brushed his lips against Harry's forehead, did the same to Remus with a grin and said four words he would never forget, "Lily said next time."

"Everyone will come, everyone will yell. I'd thank you just the same if you didn't tell. My mother says that I will surely go to hell. Please be a good man, please say you won't tell."

He never took it personally that people steered clear of him. The lover of a traitor would never again be his own person. Remus would always be tainted. Somehow it mattered less now that he ran in sync with the moon. That could be overlooked - when, and only when, there was still lingering speculation that you conspired to murder your friends. Remus exists neither in the wizarding world, nor the muggle one. He leaves his cave only to visit a secluded church every Sunday. He had found it after a particularly careless full moon, only a priest ever present. Every moon had been careless since Sirius was gone. He had needed rest, a reprieve - and this was the only place to offer it. Remus wasn't religious, was raised without it. He still kneels at the alter, a heavy cross dangling from his fingertips. His fingers and the cross had only one thing in common - they were the last things to touch Sirius Black. 'Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.' Remus thinks. 'But as I rest here on my knees, I know I would do it again.'

[dubiousartiste]

Character Art - Bruno 2023!

Decided to bust out an old comfort character of mine; BRUNO!

He was a character from a RPG I tried to make after highschool. The Godfather of the main character and the moral heart/compass of the party.

[zafirosreverie]

Just a minute (Pepa x Fem!Reader)

a/n: this mentions pregnancy between two women, don’t read if it makes you uncomfortable

______________________

"You shouldn't be here" you said, not opening the door too wide.

"Y/N, please, I just want to-"

"I know what you want Pepa, and the answer is still no"

The redhead sighed and felt her heart sink as a huge black cloud formed above her head. It was the third time in the week that she came and you never let her past the door. Deep down she didn't blame you, she knew that she had hurt you deeply and that she really deserved this, but she wasn't going to give up, not with this.

"He's my son too, Y/N" she told you "I have the right to see him"

You crossed your arms and stared at her intently, feeling inwardly proud of the way she squirmed uncomfortably.

A year had passed since you separated from her, or rather since she decided that the image of the family was more important than you and the love you shared. A year since your then-girlfriend decided it was easier to follow her mother's orders and marry Félix, instead of fighting for you.

She had hurt you, you had begged her not to, you begged her to stay, but in the end, it was her decision and you had to accept it, even if your soul was broken.

It was not all bad tho. Shortly after the wedding, you learned that the magic of the Encanto worked in curious and capricious ways, in your case, planting a seed in your womb. It terrified you and for a moment you were afraid of not remembering any abuse you suffered the night you got drunk from losing Pepa, but it was your ex-brother-in-law Bruno who timidly came to your house with a green tablet under his arm, and explained to you that the baby was in fact his sister's.

Magic had given you and Pepa the opportunity to be a family, but the news had come too late and you were furious with her, so you asked Bruno not to tell anyone else. He promised not to, but he warned you that Julieta already knew it too.

It was hard to ask them not to say anything to their sister and mother, but both had shown that despite not being your siblings-in-law anymore, they were still your best friends. They were the ones who took care of you throughout your pregnancy, especially Bruno who was not so necessary in the town and could perfectly spend hours with you, bringing you his sister's food without raising suspicion.

But there is no deadline that is not met and the day you gave birth was also the day Pepa found out everything. The sky turned gray and you could hear the strong storm outside the house, but you forced yourself to focus on Julieta while the healer helped you bring your son into the world.

It had been hard labor, almost five hours and your friend had promised to take care of your baby while you rested. It had been the only time that Pepa had seen her son, out of compassion on her sister’s part, the same sister who had hidden everything from her.

Since then, the redhead had come to your house almost every day, trying to see him, and perhaps you would have allowed it if Bruno and Julieta hadn't told you that Alma had planned to take your son from you and pass him off as Felix's. Pepa hadn't even protested.

"We know how things are at home, Y/N...he deserves better" Julieta had told you

"I've seen two futures for him...the best is definitely far from Casita" Bruno added

And that had been enough for your desire to protect your son to be stronger than the love that deep down you knew you still felt for Pepa.

"Y/N, please" Pepa said pulling you out of your thoughts "I just want to see him"

"No"

"You let Julieta and Bruno see him"

"Julieta is his godmother and Bruno his godfather...besides, they were here for me"

"Because you didn't want to tell me anything!"

"Because you were on your honeymoon"

Pepa felt that she was slapped or that a bucket of cold water fell on her. Of course, you were right, as always. This was her fault, she had decided to be a coward and not do anything to go against her mother, she had no one else to blame.

"I'm sorry" she murmured "Please…just a minute"

You looked at her for a while, taking in the way her beautiful green eyes were filled with guilt and fear, the way she hunched submissively. She looked slimmer than she had last time and she had dark circles under her eyes. Despite all your heart couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

"Just a minute" you said, moving to the side "and don't get him wet with your rain"

"Thank you"

You tried to keep a neutral face when the redhead walked past you and her scent washed over you. It almost felt as if you had never lost her.

You watched in silence as Pepa carefully took your baby, cradling him against her chest and whispering soft words in a sweet lullaby. You could almost lie to yourself and think of this as a familiar scene, a part of the life you should have had.

But reality hit you again when you heard her call your son "her little miracle." You held back and didn't say anything, but repeated to yourself over and over again the phrase you had said to Julieta the night she and Bruno came to tell you Alma's plans:

The miracle is mine, not theirs.

[halseyquinn]

It’s been a while since I last posted something - I was really lacking inspiration (and time ;) But then I recently rewatched the ballet “The Nutcracker“ by Tchaikovsky and one of the characters (I will explain this in detail later) reminded me so much of Bruno and I suddenly had the idea to make a crossover with Encanto and here it is! 

I’ll quickly summarize the plot for everyone who doesn’t know the ballet (there isn’t that much plot, since it’s more about the music and dancing, but nevertheless): The family Stahlbaum is celebrating Christmas evening together with friends, among others the mysterious magician Drosselmeyer who also happens to be one of the daugther’s (Clara’s) godfather (I always thought he was her uncle, but well…). Drosselmeyer puts on a little magical show for the children and hands out presents, including a nutcracker for Clara. Later, after the celebration is over, Clara stays a little while longer in the room on her own - and suddenly the presents come to live. The nutcracker gets attacked by a fierce army of mice, led by the Mouse King. Clara helps defeat them and the nutcracker gets transformed into a prince, who now leads Clara to his magical kingdom full of wonders. There seem to be several endings, but the one I know (and also like best) is that Clara eventually finds herself waking up from a wonderful dream.

So, basically there’s everything one needs for an Encanto crossover: the mysterious and magical (but also good-natured) godfather/uncle wearing a flowy garment, a curious young girl discovering a magical world and lots of little rodents ;) I imagined Bruno and Mirabel taking a liking to this ballet and then acting out a little Christmas/holiday performance for the rest of the family with Bruno as Drosselmeyer and Mirabel as Clara with her nutcracker (Mirabel definitely sewed the costumes, too!) - of course the Mouse/Rat King (or Queen LOL) doesn’t get harmed in their version – they just get a piece of cheese and are all friendly again :)

I wish everyone who reads this Happy Holidays (or just generally a good time)! <3

Disclaimer: Encanto and its characters belong to Disney.

[nellycanwrite]

i feel like mateo doesnt get enough love in this blog so im asking for mateo in the oc emoji asks!

🙈💧❤️📎

You're absolutely right anon, we ain't getting much Mateo Alcantara love in this blog >:(( But it's understandable since the triplets have everyone's heart in a chokehold HAHAHAHAHA

Also Mateo is super proud of his little grandkids getting all the attention because he's just a sucker for them.

holy shit anon you're going for Mateo's neck on the first few emoji asks oh lord HAHAHAHAHAHA

🙈 - What's a side of your OC that they don't want to show other people?

Oh boy, Mateo doesn't want anyone to see how short of a temper he has. Contrary to what you might believe, Mateo has a really short fuse. That guy can sucker punch a dude with only one working arm just because someone would look at him funny, but he learned to control his temper because he doesn't want Evalina to see such an ugly side of him. His late mother always told him that his outbursts were similar to his father (who we know is an abusive bitch to both him and his mama) and that really gave him a slap in the face.

When he met Pedro for the first time when they were like ten or twelve, he learned to be more patient and compassionate. Pedro balances Mateo out like a charm, and his goofy tendencies led to Mateo learning restraint. When Alma came into the picture, Mateo's anger issues were lessened as well since that woman can give him a scolding of his life and he can't do anything about it because Pedro, who's like a brother to him, is smitten with this woman who likes to hit him with a chancla.

He learned to be more mellow and more accepting with what he has in life when Alejandra came into the picture. He doesn't want her to see his flaws while he was courting her, so Pedro made sure to teach him everything he needs to know to romance a gal (and that included him NOT going into bursts of impatient rage). But Alejandra still accepts him no matter what his little mood swings <3 He vowed to never hurt Eva like his father hurt him, so that also contributed to him repressing his anger prone side.

💧 - Random angst headcanon

Mateo would often go weeks without sleep as punishment for himself for not protecting Pedro when they ran away from their pursuers. He always blamed himself for how Julieta, Pepa, and Bruno grew up to be fatherless.

❤️ - Their love language(s)?

Definitely Quality Time and Words of Affirmation. Mateo never got any good quality time with his parents as a kid, so whenever someone (aka Alejandra) makes it a habit to dedicate a significant portion of their day for him, he'd be over the moon. He never really knew that he had Words of Affirmation as a love language, but when Alejandra started trying her best to write him little poems and written love letters (which she is terrible at, by the way), he'd cherish them like it was the most precious thing in the world.

📎 - a random fact.

Mateo likes to read...questionable literature. It's very well written, it's good, and it's literature...but it's questionable cough aka he likes to read erotica cough