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jacarandaaaas · 2 months

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mirabels birthday so here’s some headcanons !!!🦋💘

- she zones out a LOT! whatever she’s working on/ thinking about takes priority in her mind so she accidentally gets so invested she could forget someone’s talking to her! (this doesn’t help in school)

- She’s a try hard on everything! probably stems from her giftless status but she gets frustrated if she can’t be up to standards! she ends up exhausting herself or burning out because she overworks herself!

- social butterfly! she’s a people person and loves talking to both the adults and the kids! she loves validation from the adults and being a role model to the kids!

- never stops talking😭 mirabels a professional yapper🙏 DONT ever ask her to explain what she’s working on because she will not shut up ever!!!

- carries around a sketchbook with her and goes to different parts of the encanto for inspiration! she might just doodle a motif or theme but it’s always something! she uses it later in her projects

- stealing @spooky-spextre-arts hc here but I love this one sm!! after Antonio’s plushie he tells the other kids and she makes a load of plushies for everyone!!

- she painted the mural in family madrigal! I think alma is aware mirabels artsy and would have asked her to do it! since it’s special commission that’s why the husbands are absent! mirabel was just so excited to be asked! Also it fits her art style

- she makes clothes! She designs them AND makes them!!

- she has friends! she’s incredibly social and I refuse to believe there’s only 2 teens in the encanto

- she likes cooking with julieta! even if she’s not the best at it she just appreciates the time with her mother!

- she helps Luisa discover her own style! since Luisa’s outfit is for work mirabel makes her other outfits to wear on her days off

- when she gets a crush she’s super annoying about it! Love language is acts of service!

- makes fun of camilo for being cringe (she is also cringe)

- Antonio is her fave cousin (this ones basically canon)

- a home bird!! she can’t ever picture herself leaving the encanto and this causes some friction between her and isa because isa does leave at some point!

- vents to casita about anything and everything (they are best friends)

- still struggles with opening up to people post movie. she’s not user to all the attention on her and gets overwhelmed often (she would never admit it)

- hates her birthdays (this one’s sad ik) but not only is it the anniversary of her ceremony but the day bruno left and in her mind the beginning of the cracks! she’s getting better but it’s still hard! (Her family spoil her for this exact reason)

- when she’s not playing music in the town she often plays with Felix and Dolores!

#encanto #encanto disney #disneys encanto #mirabel madrigal #mirabel encanto #disney’s encanto #encanto headcanons #encanto hcs #mirabel headcanons #mirabel birthday #I probably have more but I’m blanking #happy bday mirabel #my encanto headcanons

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hectic-hector · 2 months

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The Gift ~ an Encanto fic

[Summary: On her sixteenth birthday, Mirabel receives a gift like no other. Sequel to “Home” but also serves as a stand-alone fic.]

As the party wound down, Bruno retreated to the little alcove tucked into the side of the staircase. He sat at the empty table there, facing the courtyard. Though most of Mirabel’s friends had already gone home, Antonio and his buddy Juancho, fueled by sugar and coffee respectively, had no intentions of letting the party end anytime soon. Riding Chispi, Juancho chased Antonio, who rode Parce, in a wide circle around the remaining partygoers. Bruno chuckled. He wondered whether the capybara had had coffee as well, judging by how energetic he was. Or perhaps he simply enjoyed being the cat for once in the age-old game of cat and mouse.

Maybe I should have had more coffee, Bruno mused. He looked down at the small package that sat before him on the table and idly drummed his fingers on the aged wood. He’d given it his best shot by attempting to actively include himself in the festivities for Mirabel’s sake. It was her birthday, after all. He’d wanted her to know that he cared enough to be a part of it, and to her credit, she had asked him several times throughout the day if he wanted to take a break. Coffee could only do so much, and spoons of sugar did not equate to spoons of social energy. Now that Bruno had retreated to the alcove, he knew that the party was officially over for him. Still, he’d managed to stick it out better than he had at his own birthday party five months earlier. It had been his first birthday with his sisters in ten years, but he hadn’t really been ready for it. With each family member’s birthday since his return, he made the effort to be in attendance, and though he tried to be inconspicuous, he felt like he could never escape the curious glint or distrustful glare of the villagers’ eyes.

And there were times, like right now, when Bruno would almost swear that he felt his father’s eyes on him. If he were to turn in his seat and peer up through the faded blue balusters of the staircase, he would be able to see Pedro’s portrait hanging up over the landing. On the back of his head, they seemed to cast an uneasy tingle, but whenever Bruno looked into those amber eyes, they were gentle. Compassionate. Wise. Patient. And sometimes it was all too much, and he would have to look away. Still, there was a strange comfort to this small section of Casita. As a child, Bruno had spent a lot of time on that landing and in the alcove beside it, where he was sitting now. Just to be near that portrait. Just to be close to the father he never knew. The package on the table drew his attention again, and he moved his fingers to drum on that instead. The paper it was wrapped in did not make the same satisfying sound that the tabletop made, but feeling the little gift under his hand gave him an added sense of comfort. Bruno turned his head to cast an apologetic glance at the staircase. He did not meet the eyes of the portrait. He didn’t need to. He felt his father’s approval. Now all he had to do was wait for Mirabel to approach him. Even without his gift, he knew it would happen soon. And sure enough, there she was walking up to him with a smile on her face and a plate in each hand. Bruno moved to stand up, but Casita was already pulling a chair out for Mirabel to sit down. “I saved you some merengón!” she said, setting one of the two plates in front of him. Bruno had moved the package to his lap when he saw her approach. He looked at the small mountain of merengue, whipped cream, and fruit that took its place on the table. He hadn’t even realized how hungry he still was, despite having food thrust at him left and right by his mother and sisters during the party. “Oh, gracias!” Bruno replied, picking the fork off the plate. He tucked his hair behind his ears before taking a bite of the merengón. Mirabel chuckled. “Looks like Dolores was right.” Bruno swallowed and gave her a puzzled look. “Right about what?” “About not having the biggest ears in the family.”

“Oh, heh. Yeah.” Bruno touched an ear self-consciously. “That’s why my hair is so long. To cover ‘em up. But then my hair sometimes gets in the way of me eating, and hair in your food is gross, even when it’s your own, you know?”

Mirabel nodded. “Did you enjoy the party?” Bruno nodded back. “Yeah. It was good. I mean, as good as a big, noisy gathering of people can be, so kindaaaeehhhh… But anyway, shouldn’t I be asking you that question? It was your party, after all. So, did you enjoy it?”

She looked at him for a moment before answering. “Yeah. It was good.”

They finished their dessert in silence. Somewhere upstairs, the deep, pitiful meows of a jaguar could be heard. This was followed by the pleading voice of Antonio begging his mother to let Parce into her room for some reason that was drowned out by thunder. Moments later, a light hailstorm spilled over the upper mezzanine and onto the courtyard below. Parce must be acting like a big kitten right now, trying to butter Pepa up, Bruno thought. He and Mirabel were sheltered by the alcove, but he watched with a smile as the little marbles of ice bounced on the floor tiles nearby.

Bruno looked over at Mirabel as the two of them finished their merengón. “You’ve got a little something here,” he said, tapping the corner of his mouth.

Mirabel wiped at the corresponding spot on her face with a finger, then licked the dab of whipped cream from it. “Sorry. I was too excited for dessert to remember napkins.” Bruno chuckled. “Oh! That reminds me…” He picked up the package on his lap and placed it on the table. It was so lightweight that he had completely forgotten it was there. Bruno grinned at Mirabel. The look on her face told him exactly what he already knew: she recognized the parchment paper and the green yarn tied around it. The very same paper and yarn she had used to wrap her birthday gift to him the previous year. “Happy birthday, Mírame.”* Mirabel looked up at him in surprise. “I haven’t been called that since I was five.” Bruno’s face fell. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind. I mean, I’m fifty-one and I’m still being called Bru and Bruni and Brunito and hermanito. B-but if you feel like you’re too old to have a nickname, I completely unders–”

Mirabel reached out to Bruno’s wildly gesturing hands and squeezed one reassuringly. “You were the only one who ever called me that,” she said softly, with a smile as gentle as a sunrise. “Don’t ever stop. But maybe don’t use it around Camilo!”

Bruno smiled back. He picked up the package with his free hand and offered it to her. “Hope you like it.”

Mirabel undid the yarn bow and unfolded the parchment paper. Inside was a small scrap of powder blue fabric. It unfurled to reveal a handkerchief, not unlike the one she had given him for his birthday. Just as his handkerchief had his initials embroidered in opposite corners in gold thread, this one had two M’s embroidered in opposite corners in turquoise blue thread. The letters were off-centered and crooked. In each of the other two corners was a yellow and pink butterfly. They were different sizes, and one had asymmetrical wings. Mirabel stared at the handkerchief. Bruno rubbed his arm. “It’s been a long time,” he murmured, looking away. “I, uh, I started on it in November, but I knew it wouldn’t be done in time for Christmas because I’m out of practice, but –” “Wait, YOU made this?” Bruno looked back at Mirabel, who was now staring at him in wide-eyed shock. He couldn’t help but wince a little. “Y-yes?”

Mirabel’s stare seemed to intensify, making Bruno wince visibly this time. “Like I said, it’s been a long, long time, Mira. I mean, I mended my clothes all the time inside the walls, but I haven’t embroidered anything since –”

“YOU KNOW HOW TO EMBROIDER AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN TELL ME?!”

By this point, the girl sitting across from him looked positively maniacal. Bruno was sure she was about to pounce on him, but whether it would be to hug him or throttle him, he could not foresee. The one time he really should have winced, he found himself chuckling instead. “I thought you already knew! Who do you think embroidered the pink and purple flowers on that pillow over there?” he said, gesturing toward another alcove across the courtyard. In it was a sofa with several throw pillows. “And who do you think put the stars on your bedroom curtains?”

Mirabel looked from her uncle to the cloth in her hand. “I had no idea.” Bruno studied her. She hadn’t said a word yet about her gift, and he was beginning to grow uneasy. Did she like it? Did she hate it? Was she appalled that it was embroidered by a man? Surely she knew –

“I always thought that… Abuelo taught Abuela, and she taught me,” Mirabel whispered. She looked up at him questioningly. Bruno nodded with a smile. “I wanted to learn whatever my father could teach me. Even if he wasn’t there to teach me himself. I-I just wanted to make him proud, you know? To be just like him.” He looked at the cloth and his smile faded. “But I never got very good at it, as you can see. Not like you. I know you made him proud. But I –”

Mirabel’s sudden and crushing hug rendered him silent.

“It’s perfect,” she told him. “Gracias, Tío.” Bruno hugged her back, relieved. “De nada, Mírame.”

After a long moment, Mirabel finally let go, and Bruno took the handkerchief from her. He stood up and turned to face the portrait on the landing, holding up the cloth like a child proudly showing off the picture he drew in school. “Sorry about your shirt, Papá. I managed to save part of it, though.”

Mirabel looked at him curiously. “Your abuela gave me all of his clothes when I came of age, hoping they’d fit me,” he explained. “Most were too big on me, and we had them tailored so I could wear them. I kept one shirt unaltered as a way to preserve it the way Papá wore it. Unfortunately, some of the rats found it while I was living in the walls and chewed holes in it. I would have been able to mend it if the holes were close enough to a seam, but there was no way to fix them where they were without using a patch to cover them up, so…” Mirabel gasped and grabbed the cloth from his hands. “Are you saying you made this from Abuelo’s shirt?”

Bruno nodded, blushing slightly. Eyes brimming with tears, Mirabel held the handkerchief to her heart. “This best gift ever just got even better.” Sharing a smile, the two turned to gaze up at the portrait. THE END

[Bruno's handkerchief from Mirabel (from the fic "Home") and Mirabel's handkerchief from Bruno] * Mírame means "look at me" in Spanish. It sounded like it would make a cute nonsensy sort of nickname for Mirabel when she was little. Thank you to @moon-calvary and @jacarandaaaas for your suggestions!

#Encanto #Mirabel #Bruno #Madrigal #birthday #encanto mirabel #encanto bruno #Mirabel Madrigal #Bruno Madrigal #Disney #we talk about bruno #happy birthday Mirabel

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