#Casual pollo...

[corvidfeathers]

moderately well dressed man definitely old enough to be my father approached me as I was speed walking to public transportation from work to ask me if I wanted to get a drink with him 👎 what was that about!!

[silent-raven13]

When Miles rizz Hobie

"Nothing could woo me, mates." Hobie began as his friends were picking on him for turning pink around Miles. "It's merely affection, like how comfortable I'm around with someone I trust." The small group were hanging around Headquarters just to pass the time.

"Huh uh?" Gwen snorted.

Pav nodded having to get on his tippy toes to at least face Hobie on his level, "Dude, you turned pink when Miles even looks at you!"

"No, I have no idea what you're talking about." The punker plays it off still disagreeing.

"Oh yeah! Alright, bet!" Gwen said out loud.

"Hahaha, where's Miles is at?" Pav giggles with sweet delight.

Hobie rolled his eyes, "Miles is just a mate."

"Yet you call him, Sunflower!" Gwen said out loud.

"And luv, darling, dear, Brooklyn, Peter Pan!" Pav uses his fingers to show how many nicknames Hobie used on the young Spider-man. "You like him, huh?"

"Still have no idea what are you two talking about." Hobie pretending he didn't understand what they mean. He's being a cool guy deny their words.

"You always touchy feeling with him!" Gwen throw her hands up in the air, "Do we need to say anymore!"

Miles appeared from the corner of the hallway having to look at his holo-evaluation from Miguel from his watch. The meeting with the older Spider-man ended on a positive note, and it got him super happy. There was progress here!

His honey-brown eyes glanced up to make sure he doesn't bump into anyone, and spotted his friends. "Hey GUYS!" He happily went up toward them with a small jog.

"Ohh, he's here." Gwen whispers to Hobie.

Hobie froze having his eyes on Miles running up to them. Pav said, "Hey, Miles. What are you doing here?" The two saw Hobie turning pink and giggles.

"Oh, I was in a meeting with Miguel! We were talking about my last mission." Miles sounded so happy that it had Hobie's color shit to an awful muted red with murky green and yellow. Is that jealousy colors?

Gwen's eyes widen at the punker's colors being amazed yet not so surprised. Pav being the instigator, "Ohh, you and Miguel, huh? Sounds spicy!"

"Wha?" Miles's being unaware of Hobie's sudden changes in color since he's focus on Pav's questions.

Hobie had newspaper texture with black ink, Gwen leans over to read the fonts, "Fuck you, Pav. Are you going do that in front of me?" Oh. She giggles softly at this.

"You know, Spider-people like to talk." Pav snickers, "So are you and Miguel doing the nasty? Come on, tell us!"

"No! Hell nah, man. He could be the same age as my dad- what the fuck?" Miles quickly held his hands up in defense, "and I'm sixteen years old! Man, you want him to catch a case?"

"I dunno a lot of teenage Spider-heroes would, y'know." Gwen quickly added.

Pav saw Hobie's paper texture changing into a dark red and grey color with aggressive rips and ink marks. Hobie stood with no emotion showing, crazy huh?

"Well, not me! Anyway, my evaluation came out really good. I might go on missions with him. Hopefully." Miles casually said still being naive.

"Solo mission with Miguel?" Hobie thought to himself showing his jealousy, his body went through three different paper textures and turned murky green. Gwen and Pav awed at how fast his reality colors changes.

"Hopefully? That sounds like you're hoping for something, Miles!" Pav giggles having to nudge Hobie, "Huh, Hobie?"

"Not like that." The black Latino Spiderman rub his naked neck being a bit weirded out by his friends' sudden questions. "I see Miguel as a mentor. He's not bad when he's not trying to kill you. Also," Miles went up to Hobie, which causes the punker's color to change with a surprise fonts with a soft purple being surprised by his crush being so close to him.

Miles happily smiled at him, "Hobie, what's up? You been quiet. Something wrong?" His hand touches Hobie's cheek, "Are you sick? Si es así, Puedo prepararte caldo de pollo?"

Hobie turns bright pink staying frozen with his eyes widen. "No. No, luv." he crosses his arms trying to be cool. "I'm only listening."

"Oh," Miles pulls his hand away, "At least you're fine, man." His smile widens showing off his teeth. "I was beginning to worry."

Gwen and Pav look at each other then saw Hobie turning a brighter pink with heart stamps and fonts, a bit of shimmer this time. "Hmm?" They hummed at him.

Hobie scowls a bit at them, "Shut up!" The two laughing out loud.

"What happen?" Miles being so confused.

[azrielslostshadow]

Modern!Azriel Headcanons

Modern! Azriel/ Navy Seal! Azriel x reader

Wordcount: 900ish

Warnings: annoying drill sergeant, couple curse words, not super gendered (like one mention of a dress)

A/N: az is a cutie in this one too :)))

Modern!Azriel who grew up in the same trashy neighborhood as you and cass and rhys. 

Modern!Azriel who was determined to make it out despite what his shitty father and half-brothers had to say about it. 

Modern!Azriel who was somehow top 10 in your graduating class despite missing like half of junior and senior year to work and help his mom pay the bills. 

Modern!Azriel who got a 1500 on the SAT and a 96 on his ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery) test. 

Modern!Azriel who knew that his best chance out of the hood was the military (also probably not the best way to work out all his anger)

Modern!Azriel who convinces cass to join him and they both enlist in the battle buddy program together. (they both deploy together so they always have a homie to rely on)

Modern!Azriel who is a fucking 6’4” unit and is recruited by the navy bc he’s massive and a genius and secretly speaks like 5 languages (bc his mom is an immigrant and they’re like that) 

the drill sergeant just about dropped and foamed at the mouth at the sight of azriel and cassian (drill sergeant goes on a tangent about finally getting some “real sailors” and the rest of the unit literally hates them bc yeah he’s right they don’t compare)

Modern!Azriel who (alongside cassian) gets asked to apply to seal school and they graduate with some of the highest BUD/S scores the navy has ever seen (his mom is super proud and makes him mole de pollo bc its his favorite and she loves her son and his friends)

Modern!Azriel who makes it to captain in six years instead of the average nine bc he’s just that good

Modern!Azriel who always remembered you as his kind coworker from his trashy minimum wage dishwashing job in high school and definitely not as his friend’s cute younger sister.

Modern!Azriel who remembers every time you brought him dinner and badly lied about how you hated to waste food and didn’t know what to do with the leftovers so he wouldn’t feel bad about eating it (bc times were tough in HS and he really wasn’t eating enough at all)

Modern!Azriel who just kind of slowly blinks at you when him and his unit walk into the museum that you’ve been working at. 

Modern!Azriel whose chest tightens with something strange when your whole face lights up after recognizing him. 

Modern!Azriel who has only had casual flings (mostly bc he was always away for work) but feels his heart drop to his feet when you press your lips to his left cheek and give his arms a little squeeze. 

Modern!Azriel whose whole body relaxes when you pull him into a hug. who’s knees almost give out when you rub your manicured hands up and down his biceps and whisper about how you missed him–how you were worried about him. 

his whole team will harass him later about his reaction and beg for the details behind your history because even though they’re navy seals they’re really just chismosas on the inside. 

Modern!Azriel who is seriously so confused as to how you (someone who was so kind and loving) could be involved in counter-terrorism.

Modern!Azriel who is shocked when you explain to him that the art world is full of criminals and that terrorists especially love to use expensive art as methods of payment for whatever horrible acts they want to commit. 

Modern!Azriel whose chest puffs with pride when he hears you tell your boss that you have full faith in his unit and their abilities bc “azriel isn’t the kind of man who lets people down”

Modern!Azriel who is supposed to be paying attention to the baroque painting on the wall but can’t take his eyes off of you in your beautiful, floor-length, velvet gown. 

Modern!Azriel who takes out two things in one night: a secret terrorist cell and you to dinner. 

Modern!Azriel who realizes he hasn’t been able to have a serious relationship bc he’s been in love with you this whole time (read: since he was literally 9 years old and you told him he had the prettiest eyes in the world)

Modern!Azriel who wears the matching bracelet you got him every single day. especially when he’s deployed bc a photo of you might actually be too dangerous for the field

Modern!Azriel who never tells you exactly what he does just that he’s the captain of a navy seal unit bc its classified, but you still worry (especially bc you’re a historian and can almost immediately tell where he’s been in the world based on the souvenirs he brings you)

Modern!Azriel who almost bursts into tears when you tell him you love him first bc he’d  been struggling to get the words out for weeks

Modern!Azriel who gets to experience softness from someone other than his mother for the first time in his life

Modern!Azriel who is in a healthy, positive relationship with someone who loves all of him including his flaws. 

Modern!Azriel whose partner teaching him about emotional maturity and communication and slowly walks with him down his healing journey

Modern!Azriel who is pathetically in love with his partner and can’t wait to start their life together. 

[freneticfloetry]

I have named the thing. (When in doubt, Oscar Isaac.)

Thanks to @carlos-in-glasses, @heartstringsduet, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @orchidscript, @carlos-tk, and @liminalmemories21 (who asked for more of this specifically) for the tags. 😘

Carlos comes down in casual clothes a few minutes later, a balm in bare feet and beautifully untamed curls, and makes a slow, steady beeline for the couch. "You could've called me," he says, hovering. "And been a walking cockblock with cooties?" TK snorts. "Pass." Carlos leans down to press the back of his hand to TK's forehead, frowning even as he brushes gentle fingers through his hair before he pulls back again. "Somehow I doubt you've done all that much walking." He wanders into the kitchen and fills their kettle at the sink, takes one of TK’s obnoxious oversized mugs from the cabinet where his disparate collection is hidden. Just the sound of him moving around is soothing, somehow, and TK lets his eyes slip closed again, hazy but happy that Carlos isn't going anywhere. He must nod off somewhere in there, because the next thing he knows, there's a hand on his shoulder, carefully shaking him awake. "Hey," Carlos says, endlessly kind. "Drink this while it's hot." With the help of a strong hand beneath one elbow, TK sits up enough to slump against the arm of the couch and take the tea that Carlos holds out. He can't smell it at all, but it's warm between his palms and wafting welcome steam into his face, and even without the telltale scent, the first sip is familiar; it's the same té de manzanilla Carlos makes every time TK is sick, served exactly the way his abuela had made it for him — sweetened with honey and spiked with lots of lime, topped with a sprinkle of cinnamon. TK sips it slowly as Carlos settles at the other end of the couch. He knows this tea, even without most of its taste, the same way he knows that Carlos has taken out his phone to place a grocery order for delivery — that as soon as the bags show up on the doorstep, full of chicken and carrots and tender gold potatoes and fresh tomatoes to puree, Carlos will put on a huge pot of caldo de pollo that he'll make TK eat for days. The same way he'd known — deep down, coffee be damned — that Carlos would never leave him here alone like this. He knows these things the same way he knows how to breathe. But something in his sick-addled brain still looks at Carlos as he frowns down at his phone and makes his mouth fall open, anyway. "Hey, um… I know we don't have an actual lease or anything, but I'd need time. To find a new place. Whenever this whole situation starts to be a problem." Carlos stops scrolling to swing his head back to TK, the scrunchy crease across his nose signaling his confusion. "What?"

Open tag, because it’s late, but also tagging in @never-blooms, @ambiguouspenny, @hoko-onchi-writes, @rmd-writes, @alrightbuckaroo, @herefortarlos, @reyesstrand, @strandnreyes, and @welcometololaland, specifically.

[capnclem]

top five gus fring looks ranked by objective cuntiness

5: pollos getup: classic, smart, and distinctive!

4: brba 3x11 dinner time sweater: cute, casual and petty!!!

3: brba 4x11 desert outfit: it's important to look your best even after getting poisoned!!!

2: bcs 3x03 all-black suit: desert date with your new old guy hitman that reveals a sliver of your tragic backstory while serving in thematically relevant mourning colours

honourable mention to….. brba 4x13 immaculate blue suit, truly a princess di revenge dress moment.

1: brba 4x01 box cutter suit : the symbolism of "covering up" before killing someone, the colour theory, the blood spatter on the glasses…. this is truly cunt.

also because it gave us tits

[avnj0gia]

Ghostfaces and their favorite restaurants

Billy: El Pollo Loco

Stu: In-n-Out Wait Billy said what? Oh, El Pollo Loco

Nancy: Denny’s, but she’ll take anywhere with a sensibly priced early bird special

Mickey: Mainly lives on energy drinks and gas station nachos. Splurges on smothered burritos from whatever local Mexican place is convenient when he feels like treating himself

Roman: Nobu. Oh, what’s that, you’ve never been?

Jill: Wouldn’t be caught dead eating fast food. What, Chipotle doesn’t count, that’s fast casual and besides if you get a bowl it’s healthier than-

Charlie: Subway

Richie: Planet Hollywood (and he feels personally victimized by how many of them have closed down since he was a kid)

Amber: McDonalds (still orders the happy meal, pretends it’s not for her)

Jason: Five Guys, always makes Greg pay for it

Bailey: Loves Golden Corral

Ethan: Panda Express (puts away an entire family meal by himself)

Quinn: Starbucks definitely has her order memorized

[thatharringrovehoe]

Thinking of a Steve who's a total virgin when Billy propositions him for a casual hook up. Like, all the king Steve bullshit? It was just that. Bullshit. Just alot of smoke and mirrors backed up by the rich boy benefits. In this AU he never even hooked up with Nancy when they dated. But Steve is crushing hard and Billy is so hot and his last relationship fell apart because he wasn't ready to get physical, so he figures 'Fuck it, I can do this'. Only when Billy pulls up to his driveway, Steve is a nervous wreck. He wants to have sex with Billy, he does! But he's so inexperienced and Billy is from California, beautiful and tan with a girl hanging off his arm every other night. Steve's pulse is thumping in his neck, palms sweaty enough he has to wipe them on his jeans every few minutes. When the doorbell rings, Steve jumps a foot in the air. And Jesus, Billy looks like sin when he opens the door, smelling like spicy cologne and leather and Steve is going to pass out. Billy starts to notice something is off about the time he pulls Steve to straddle his lap on the couch. He's shaking under Billy's hands, and not entirely in a good way, breathing just this side of panicked. And okay, Billy isn't an asshole, he can tell when someone has changed their mind. Doesn't want to sound like a bitch about the whole thing when he sighs.

"Look, no pressure Harrington. We don't have to do this."

Steve's eyes snap up to meet his, pupils blown out black but still looking scared.

"What? No! I want to, I swear! I'm just uh. Nervous. I guess."

And alright, that's fair, this is Indiana after all. Billy was already kind of expecting to take the lead tonight. Runs his hands soothingly across the tops of Steve denim clad thighs.

" 'S alright baby. We can take it slow."

Because underneath it all, Steve is obviously interested, the hard outline of his dick through his jeans a testament to that. But there still seems to be a piece to this that Billy is missing.

"Steve, you have to tell me what's wrong if we're gonna do this. I don't like being someone's regret in the morning."

A blush spreads across Steve's cheeks all the way down the collar of his pollo, ears a bright and telling pink. Steve looks to the side, chewing his bottom lip fat and red, hands clenched tight in Billy's shirt like a lifeline. He mumbles so quiet Billy wouldn't have even thought he'd spoken if he wasn't looking for it.

"Gotta speak up Bambi. Use your big boy voice."

Billy's hoping for levity, but the joke falls flat, leaving an awkward tension in the room that stretches and stretches.

"I'm uhm. I-... Fuck, okay, you can't laugh."

Billy can feel a smirk curling without his permission, but the look Steve shoots him makes him pause. Steve looks serious, jaw clenched and ticking. The "or I'll kick you out" goes unspoken but heavily implied.

"Alright pretty boy, scouts honor" Billy traces his finger in an 'x' over his heart. "I promise."

Steve takes a deep breath, and proceeds to shatter Billy's entire fucking brain.

"I'm a virgin."

Its like throwing a drum of gasoline onto a campfire, heat roaring from Billy's gut to the tips of his fingers and toes. He wishes his God damn dick had given him more time to say something appropriate, something sensitive, before it kicks hard underneath Steve's ass.

Billy doesn't even need a mirror to know that Steve isn't the only one blushing now.

"Okaaay. And that's...a problem?"

By the look on Steve's face, he sure seems to think so. Which definitely tracks, because why would a pretty thing like Steve Harrington want his first time to be with someone like Billy?

"I want to do this, Billy. I just. I don't know what I'm doing. I wanna make it good for you, but-... I'm afraid I'm gunna mess it up."

Billy can relate to that last part, considering he feels two seconds away from blowing his load with a virgin Steve Harrington in his god damn lap. He takes Steve's trembling hands in his own before he speaks.

"Steve, baby. We could literally just sit here and watch a movie and I'd be good with that. You're not gonna mess anything up."

Steve's back to biting his lip, looking at Billy with cautious hope from under floppy brown hair. It's unkempt from how much Steve has been nervously running his hand through it. Billy feels affection tingle through his chest in a sudden rush.

Steve shifts in his lap and it has Billy throwing his head back in a hiss, hitting the couch with a thunk. When he looks back up, Steve is grinning. It's a little wobbly, a little unsure, but genuine. He leans in slow, and when their lips connect it reminds Billy of eating pop rocks on the beach back home. Tingly and warm and so so sweet. Steve pulls back first, Billy leaning forward to chase the taste he knows he'll be craving until the day they put him in the ground.

"Take me to bed Hargrove"

Billy smiles something wicked, tongue between his teeth. In a flash, he's standing with Steve's legs wrapped around his waist, already on his way to carry Steve up the stairs.

"That I can do, pretty boy"

[twoidiotwriters1]

Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Ara cannot stop thinking it's exhausting to write someone sedate her 😩-Danny Words: 2,519 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Dancing After Death' -by Matt Maeson

XXVI: Leo Survives the Vibe Check

After Lee died, Michael took his place as senior counselor. During the funerals, Lily and I stay with our friend, and a weakened Nico follows us around quietly. I decide to share my plan with them.

Lily shakes her head miserably. "Achilles passed and Heracles turned into a God, they can't help."

"I wasn't talking about them."

"You said a child of Olympus might be our solution," Mike frowns.

"Yeah, what if we make a new one?"

They stare at me like I've gone mad. "Ara, to be considered at all, you'd have to—"

"Be a jack of all trades," I nod. "And as sturdy as a radioactive roach."

"Sounds fun," Nico mumbles. He's half-asleep, and I'm not sure he's truly listening.

Lily gazes at my brother and her sister. "Percy has a prophecy to fulfill, and Annabeth—"

"I want to try it." 

Silence. The kind that comes after someone says something so nuts you don't even process it. I continue before they can stomp all over my idea.

"You've trained me well, at a higher level than most demigods and I... I think I know from where Almighty comes from."

"I'm not getting it," Mike says.

"I've been dreaming about this," I explain. "The children of Olympus."

"Make amends with your past", Pan had said. I've been given an opportunity to succeed where others didn't. I don't understand why me, when so many skilled demigods could take the title, but Aphrodite's words come to mind: Love is at the core of everything... Even war. 

Someone knocks on the trapdoor and pushes it open. Ara knows who it is just by the sound of the footsteps.

Annabeth enters the attic fully. "I don't understand why you like it here. You remember this is where we used to keep a mummy, right?"

"The mummy wasn't the creepiest thing in our collection," Ara points over her shoulder before returning to the laurel crown. "The horrors are endless."

Annabeth sits next to her, now both are staring at the gold crown. "That doesn't explain why you come here."

"I come here because it's packed with stuff some demigods considered meaningful—but now all those memories and people are gone. One day, someone will look at these laurels and they won't know anything about me, except that I once wore them."

"And that makes you feel... good?"

"It's not about feeling good," the girl looks back at her. "The prophecy of the seven... I'm not part of it. I'm trying to understand why."

Annabeth sighs and rubs her eyes. "I don't know, Ara. You look after the Olympians, you won't get a greater honor than that."

"And that stresses me out," she frowns. "You're telling me I reached my peak at fourteen? This is all I'll ever get?"

"Ara, I've known you since we were little girls," Annabeth raises a brow. "Your life right now is good, what's the problem with that? You got clues about Percy, you're keeping our home safe, and you got us a new guardian..."

"New guardian?"

"Yeah," Annabeth grins. "Pollo."

Ara chuckles. "You talked to Leo?"

"He's crazy, but nice," the older girl hums. "You two make sense as partners."

She clears her throat. "I... I'm not his partner, not really."

"We both know you won't resist the temptation to work in the Argo II," Annabeth teases her. "Soon enough you'll be all over Leo."

Ara blushes at her wording, she looks away and hugs her knees. "Dunno, he's pretty controlling about his creations..."

"He likes you, though," the girl says casually. "And he gets you, doesn't he? The part of you that always weirded us out."

Ara tries to see if Annabeth's insinuating something, but her voice sounds forthcoming, so the girl guesses Annabeth has no idea what she's doing to Ara with that sort of statement.

"I haven't called my mother," she comments, trying to change the subject. "To tell her I'm still alive."

"Did she know you left?"

Ara stares at her. "You didn't tell her?"

Annabeth shakes her head. "Two kids in life-threatening situations can't be good for her heart, didn't think it'd be a good idea."

"But... It's protocol."

"Only when it's a difficult quest," Annabeth's eyes with pride. "We knew you'd come back alive."

Ara's eyes get teary, but she tries to shrug it off. "Well, I'll call her tomorrow anyway. I miss her."

"You should visit during Christmas."

She clears her throat. "Yeah, maybe."

"Can't promise it'll be fun, but..."

"No yeah, I miss my dad too."

Annabeth places one hand on her shoulder. "Hey, since Rachel is also staying, we should do a girls' night like old times."

"Old times," Ara snorts. "We started doing those four months ago."

"That means we haven't had one in like three months," she smirks. "Is that a yes?"

Ara looks at Annabeth intently, she realizes the girl hasn't said anything about their prophecies. "You're not angry that I hid my prophecy from you all?"

Annabeth shrugs, but she looks tense. "I think you're allowed to hide stuff if you think that's the right move, and it wouldn't be the first time, right?" she stares back at her. "You wanna talk about it?"

Ara feels her mouth run dry. "No."

Annabeth gets up to leave. "Don't stay here for too long, it stinks of mummy."

"If I become a child of Olympus, I can stop others from destroying our home in the years to come."

"Ara, you're thirteen," Lily reminds me.

"So what? Heracles and Achilles weren't adults when they started," I pout.

She shakes her head. "Percy's prophecy is very clear—"

"And it bounds him to one purpose only," I'm knee-deep in the conversation, so I say exactly what's on my mind. "I could do more."

"Ara, I don't think—"

"I'm in."

"What?" Lily scowls at Mike. "Are you crazy?"

Michael keeps his gaze down. "Ara wanted a family and got one. She woke up one day, decided to start training, and broke a record. She said a sword would come to her, and Hephaestus gave her Almighty. She makes things happen."

"Yeah, she worked to get all of that," Lily rolls her eyes. "But a child of Olympus? There hasn't been one in centuries! Least of all a girl!"

"She'll change that." A leaf-green glow envelops Mike's body. As heartbroken as he is, he means business. "You'll be our child of Olympus, Ara. I swear it on the Styx."

Just like that, it's done. Mike sealed our fates, and now I've got no choice. Lily swears in Italian and falls back on her seat, staring at the funeral pyre as if we're the ones burning. Nico is fast asleep, he didn't hear anything from the last few minutes of our conversation.

"Mike..." I hug him and my voice cracks. "You're not supposed to be stupid!"

"I know," his voice sounds just like mine, and his arms wrap around me weakly. "Blame it on the grief..."

Lily throws her stygian dagger between our feet. "Idiots," she sulks. "Just when I think you don't have any tricks left to make me follow you on another wild goose chase..."

"Wouldn't be a good role model if I didn't make you slightly crazy," Michael shows a tiny smile.

Lily scoffs. "More like an annoying brother that wants to ridicule us..."

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," I cry.

"Bug," Mike's gaze softens and he cups my face. "You know damn well you don't deserve us."

I laugh and look at Lily, gathering up some confidence before I talk. "I brought Nico back. I'll work hard every day to earn your trust, even after I get the title."

I lift my right wrist, the scar in full view.She raises hers and touches mine, sealing the deal. She can't do anything but make sure I don't lose any limbs before time.

I see Janus out of the corner of my eye, but they vanish when I look their way.

Ara reads her to-do list during breakfast, muttering things to herself. When she's done eating, she gets up and goes back to the Big House. Halfway there someone calls after her.

It's the second time Leo approaches her unprompted, which is not strange but feels weird. Or maybe she's just tense around him out of habit. "Nyssa and Jake told me you're not coming to the bunker today, why is that?"

She tilts her head in confusion. "You need my help with something?"

"No, I just want you near me at all times," he replies sarcastically. "Of course I need you! How am I supposed to supervise fifty people all by myself?"

"Annabeth's taking her siblings to the bunker, you can explain everything to them," Ara shrugs. "They don't need you to tell them what to do all the time, it'll be okay."

"You're Cabin Nine's right-hand lady, I'm summoning my right-hand lady to the bunker before I make a fool of myself in front of the Einstein cabin."

She snorts. "Why do I feel like you're just trying to annoy me?"

"Honestly, I'm trying to tell you that I'm nervous and I need moral support," he clasps his hands together. "Would flattery seal the deal? What if I slip in a pet name? Mamacita or—"

Ara turns around knowing Leo will follow her. "I am not your mother, so don't ever call me that. Also, it was wrong of you to eavesdrop, but still... thank you for not asking about my prophecy the other day."

Leo shrugs, catching up to her as they walk to the Big House. "I don't really get prophecies, but yours sounded tough, so if you don't want to talk about it..."

"Maybe one day," she replies. "Anyway, you've got stuff to do. Which reminds me," she waves at the girl waiting for them on the porch. "It's time for introductions."

Leo has seen Lily Saggio once or twice around camp but never paid attention to her until now. "Leo Valdez," Ara says as soon as they're close enough. "This is my best friend and second in command, Lily Saggio."

"Hi," he waves briefly. "You look much scarier from up close."

"Did you talk to Annabeth?" Ara asks the girl.

"Yeah, she said I should come find you," she gives Leo a nod to let him know she's not ignoring him, but she's clearly got more important things to attend right now.

Leo can't help but notice all of Ara's close friendships are serious or grumpy, maybe that's the reason she's in such a bad mood all the time.

"I'll be back in a minute, gotta give my mother a call," Ara excuses herself from the conversation and rushes into the Big House, leaving Leo alone with the dark-haired girl.

"So," he smiles. "Athena, right?"

"Hephaestus," Lily sizes him up. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure! Unless is my haircare routine, that one's—"

"Ara has a soft spot for your cabin," Lily interrupts him. "She can't say no to you, but I'm here to say it for her," she steps forward. "So be mindful of what you ask her."

Leo's not entirely sure she's talking about the Argo II, but he tries to act chill. "Ara trusts you, so I'll do the same. What about you?"

Lily raises a brow. "As long as you do your job, I don't have a reason not to... but I'll keep an eye on you."

"You don't have to worry about me, I'm a workaholic. I work so hard I forget to eat. And sleep. I love my job!"

Lily frowns. "I hope that's a joke."

"Only in the ways that matter."

Ara comes back out after a minute and Leo can finally breathe again. When they get to the bunker, Leo realizes he's been so anxious he hasn't spoken since they left the Big House.

Pretty girls have always made him nervous, but right now he's straight-up pressed. Saggio gives off strict parent vibes, and he doesn't want to mess things up with Ara now that they're friends.

Annabeth is at the bunker's entrance with her brother Malcolm, Ara introduces the boy to Leo and Leo gives him a formal greeting, there's a buzzing in his ear like something's out of place in his inner mechanisms, it's filling his mind with thick smoke.

Ara takes them to the Argo II's blueprint. "That's what we'll be working on."

Malcolm stares at it with wide eyes. "That's huge!"

"And ancient," Annabeth studies it carefully. "This came to you when you were little, Leo?"

"Hmm?" He gives a start. "Oh, yeah! When Tía Callida babysat me she made sure to ingrain it into my brain, along with the nightmares."

"He means Hera," Ara clarifies.

Annabeth looks at Leo and tries to smile. "Well, you fixed Festus. I trust you can build this. Malcolm and Lily are here to help you, so whatever you need, feel free to ask them."

"Thanks! But if I get stuck I can just ask Ara, right?" Annabeth, Malcolm, and Lily laugh, which is crazy because he isn't trying to be funny.

Ara blushes and changes the subject. "I've got a chariot to fix, so..." she gestures at Lily to follow her out. "Malcolm, you stay with Leo. If you need anything, send Harley."

"Have you contacted Nico yet?" Annabeth asks. "He asked us to let him know when you returned." 

Leo listens intently, trying to figure out Nico's role just by examining Ara's face. All he knows is that the boy lent her his jacket so she could stay warm during the quest. He's also the son of Hades, which is... challenging. Leo can't fight for Ara's heart with a guy who's the prince of the underworld!

"I'll call him later," Ara wrinkles her nose and waves a hand dismissively. "And I'll come tomorrow before I leave for..." The girl notices Leo's staring and frowns. "What?"

"Huh? Oh! I was..." he points to the old blueprint, then pauses. "Hang on, before you what?"

"Before I leave," Ara looks slightly uncomfortable. "I'm going home for the holidays."

"Not for long, right?" He asks anxiously.

"I'll come back after a few days," she says, not meeting his eyes.

"Oh." 

Wow, he's killing it today with the witty talk. Way to go, Leo. Malcolm stands beside him and watches the girls leave, the blond boy crosses his arms and glances at Leo. "You nervous?"

"Pfft. Why would I be? I'm the man," he says, desperate to sound normal.

Malcolm smirks. "Well, Ara's a crazy scientist, and my sisters can be bossy—"

"Wait, are we talking about the same Ara here?" Leo raises a brow.

"'Course, man. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you haven't paid enough attention. Lily and Ara are chronic overachievers," Malcolm walks away without explaining further.

"What does that—hey! Malcom, wait up! What does that mean?"

Leo tries to follow him, but Nyssa gets in his way. 

"Alright, Counselor, stand still a minute!" She grabs him by the shoulders and places him on the platform where Festus's head is. 

Leo spots Jake in front of them, holding a professional camera. "What the—"

"It's for the record," his sister explains. "Chiron hangs 'em in his office, and we'll hang one in our cabin's wall. This project should be remembered by the generations to come."

Leo's cheeks burn. "And you want me to be in the picture?"

"Well, you're the guy with the vision," Nyssa pats his back roughly. "But we'll take one with the whole crew once the Argo II's done, don't worry."

Leo's mind goes to Ara, the idea of having a picture where both of them appear side by side makes him stupidly happy. He needs to calm the heck down.

"Okay, make sure to capture my good side!" He muses.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris

[rainbows-fanfics]

Help Unwanted (Chapter 7)

Summary: After losing the Pirate, Deacon is unwillingly paired with a partner to help with his job. The only problem is - they can't stand each other, and time is dwindling until he can re-capture all his lost prisoners.

Human AU of the Armada from Pirate101.

Pairings: Deacon/Queen!Deacon, Deacon/OC

--

Deacon traversed the ship in a relatively good mood - easily forgiving one of the marines when they accidentally bumped into him. Speaking with Rooke lifted his spirits. He desperately needed reassurance in a time like this. He made a mental note to have a drink as soon as he could. He needed to unwind in a way that strayed from his cigarette pack. He felt bothered by how much he’d been smoking lately…

He boarded the Executioner and supervised the remaining sailors. Once all the cargo was onboard, they thanked Rooke and his temporary crew before sailing away. They moved towards the nearest stormgate that would take them to Cool Ranch. As soon as he was positioned at the captain’s wheel, Dea casually slipped to his side.

“You must know each other pretty well.” He turned his masked face in her direction. She clarified. “-General Rooke, I mean.” 

“I’m not giving him your number, if that’s what you want.” He scoffed comically. She turned her head sharply at the comment. 

"Very funny. Is it so bad to admire a man like him?”

He snorted. “You and all the other women in the Spiral.” 

This wasn't the first time he witnessed Rooke getting flirted with. He was usually swarmed when he was off-duty, which sometimes made their leisure together a little difficult. His brother took the attention well, but he never really knew what to do about it. His physique earned an adoration from various women - but none that the General asked for. Rooke didn’t * want * to date anyone, since his job was demanding, and he didn’t like the idea of having to leave his partner alone while he was risking his life in the line of duty. 

Deacon related to him. His schedule had him visiting several islands in the span of a day, which meant he was rarely ever home. He was always taking refuge in temporary places. Constantly on his feet, ready to leave into the next scene. There wasn’t a woman out there that could possibly keep up with him - not one he could spare much attention and time for. 

Not unless… 

He shook off these thoughts and decided to toy with her, just to keep himself preoccupied until they reached land. "I wouldn't worry about it, anyway, because he's mad at you."

She started, thinking she had misstepped somewhere in her introduction. "What? Why?"

"'The Executioner' was unique to his battleship. And you took her name."

She began sputtering. He got a kick out of her reaction. "How was I supposed to * know* that!? I've only been in the Armada for–"

He perked up. She paused before crossing her arms. "...Nice try, espía."

He sighed through his nose, a smile tugging at his hidden lips. The sound of the waves hitting the boat became hypnotizing after some time. He hadn't realized he'd been spacing out until Dea's voice snapped him out of it. 

"It would be stupid to assume the Elite don't know each other. You all work together, don't you?" 

"Yes." He leaned on the wheel. "But we usually don't meet face-to-face on duty like that."

"-Then how do you all keep in touch..?"

He lifted up his sleeve to reveal the communicator on his wrist. "With these."

"Oh!" She marveled at it. He promptly moved it out of her sight. "The technology in Valencia amazes me..."

He was going to speak more, but had his focus shift as they reached the familiar mountains of Cool Ranch. He moved to take the indirect route in order to avoid early detection. He'd use this time to calmly spell out their objective to his companion.

"Our next target is not going to be easy," He began quietly. "A masked vigilante protects Santo Pollo, and I would rather not have his interference in this."

"..A masked vigilante..?" She repeated, intrigued. 

"To avoid his attention, we'll have to go undercover while tracking our convict there. In the meantime, we’ll stay in a room above a saloon in Cooper's Roost."

"Hold on - we have to stay in Cool Ranch? How long will we be here?"

"As long as it takes to find and track our runaway down. I have a suspicion they're part of a group of marauders. We’ll have to get to them before that 'hero' does." 

She placed a hand on her hip, rolling her head to the side. “And who exactly is this ‘hero’..?” 

He paused. “...I would rather not say his name.” 

“Why not?” 

“For a good reason.” He responded, not bothering to elaborate. He turned the wheel until they were facing Cooper’s Roost. He motioned to the crew to prepare for docking and summoned his cane when they were situated. “Let’s go.” 

Dea followed him off their ship and winced when they stepped off the dock. Her boots had been dirtied seconds after stepping on the barren ground. It was awfully hot in this region. The sun burned just above the mountains in the pink-and-yellow-hued sky above them, clouds nonexistent no matter where she looked. She could feel the sweat forming underneath her clothes as they walked through the old-styled town. 

The western buildings were charming, as were the tumbleweeds that skittered across the grounds before them. Vegetation was scarce as they stepped through weeds and dead plants. The people around them wore traditional clothing, and she was somewhat surprised that their appearance wasn’t too highly-scrutinized here. She caught a man chewing a piece of grain who eyed them suspiciously, but others paid no mind. 

Deacon led them to the desired saloon. It wasn’t any better than the outside - crammed to capacity with cowboys, vendors, and saloon girls. All the commotion inside made it hot and humid. She peeled off her cape and removed her hat while Deacon audibly sighed with relief. It was almost funny with how quickly he rushed over to the bar - taking a seat at one of the unoccupied stools and ordering himself a vodka-orange juice cocktail. She followed after and sat a space away from him, asking for a cosmopolitan.

When they were handed their drinks, she looked at him in amusement. “A screwdriver? Really?” 

“Best way to prevent scurvy,” He answered, taking a swig. She tapped her mask thoughtfully as she looked at her own drink. 

“That’s…pretty smart.”

The bartender came over and brought Dea the straw she asked for. She thanked him and took a drink as discreetly as she could. He turned to hand Deacon two pairs of keys to their room upstairs. The spymaster pocketed his, then offered her the other pair without a word. She took them and the server left to keep an eye on the two inebriated cowhands at the end of the bar. 

“...Do we have to share a bed?” 

He noticed her tone and waved it off. “There are two separate beds. Nothing too different from our current situation.” 

“Beyond the lack of privacy , you mean.” She pointed at him.

“We’ll only be here for a few days. I’m a returning guest, so don’t complain about anything. It’s just convenient since we’re in the area.” 

“Fine.” She swirled her drink around. “So…why won’t you say the name of that vigilante? Is it a secret?” 

“Far from it. It’s just that…when you say his name, *something* tends to happen.” 

“...What? A group of thugs come out of nowhere and beat the crap out of you?” She asked sarcastically. 

“Worse than that.” 

“Then what?” 

Deacon stared at her for a minute. Then he set down his glass and took a deep breath. Before she could ask, he muttered the name. “...El Toro.”

Without warning, a group of trumpets played right beside her ear. 

“HIJO DE PUTA! ” She screamed. She whipped around to smack the culprit - only to find that no one was there. She turned back and noticed Deacon with his head in his hands, trying to contain his laughter. 

“You think that was funny!?” She snapped, clearly embarrassed. The people nearby looked away from the scene, apparently used to it. Her temper calmed down a bit. “What *was* that?” 

He had to catch his breath before replying. “Non lo so. But it gets annoying pretty quickly, so I’ve stopped saying it.” 

“You’re telling me that, somehow, a group of trumpets randomly start playing whenever someone says the name El T-”

Deacon quickly held up a hand to silence her. She got the message at the last second. She froze in her seat, blinking before shaking her head.

“...’The Bull’..? So that’s what he’s called?” 

“Yes, and it’s likely that he’s on our criminal’s tail already. We might be playing a game of who can catch them first .” 

Conversation died off as they worked on finishing their drinks. There was the pleasant sound of chatter around them - people engaged in card games while watching the girls dance. After a minute, the spymaster realized something was missing. Usually, in a scene like this, he’d be hearing the ragtime melody of a nearby tack piano. He moved his head in search of the instrument and found it sitting on the back of the further wall. 

He caught the bartender’s attention. “Is the piano out of commission?” 

“Naw. ‘Fraid our usual pianist couldn’t make it t’day. Bad case of hay fever.” He nodded to him while polishing a glass. “You can knock yerself out, if ya’ want.” 

Deacon downed the rest of his screwdriver and left payment for his and Dea’s drinks. He picked up his cane and made his way to the end of the room, taking a seat in front of the piano. His co-captain quickly finished the rest of her cosmo and unceremoniously left her stool to follow after him. She caught him right as he was inspecting the keys. 

“Wait! You can play the piano..?” She asked breathlessly. He didn’t acknowledge her as he pressed the keys, listening closely to check if they were tuned. He soon let out a pleased hum. 

“I was given lessons when I was a child,” He soon answered. “I tickle the ivories whenever I can.” 

His gloved fingers flexed as they hovered over the keys. He flinched when he remembered a long ruler smacking his knuckles every time he pressed the wrong note. The bruises it left were painful. His instructor was a harsh and impatient one, and although he learned to play quicker than most, he didn’t like reminiscing on those times. He recalled the long hours he’d spent at that old piano, repeatedly playing chopsticks while Kane watched intently in the background. He held his breath at the memory. Dea joined his side on the bench. 

“Show me.” She challenged him.

He played on a couple of tack pianos before - but ultimately preferred the grand piano back at Kane’s mansion, or even his personal upright. He mostly learned classical pieces to play during his father’s formal parties. Within his time in Cool Ranch, he had picked up on a few ragtime songs to appease his company there. He could never play anything like that in Valencia. In a way, it was a little freeing compared to his usual requests. 

Getting into position, he decided to play The Entertainer, the most popular piece in saloons and a favorite in Cooper’s Roost. The moment the song made it to their ears, there was a collection of whooping and hollering. Dea looked up in time as several cowboys grabbed the nearest damsel and began dancing in the middle of the saloon. A crowd soon surrounded the piano and clapped along as Deacon played - grins spreading on their faces as they stomped their boots. 

It was… exhilarating, to say at the least. 

One of the cowpunchers attempted to tug Dea into a dance - only for her to reject him with a slap to his hand. Deacon caught this action and chuckled. She was too mesmerized watching his hands work the keys to really move anywhere. It took a few minutes until he was done - and a great applause sounded from around them when he finished. 

Her look was judgmental behind her mask, but she couldn’t stop the small giggle that left her lips. “How many saloons have you been to?” 

“It’s a classic.” Deacon responded, tugging at his sleeves. He looked up when a few began placing down pieces of gold on top of the piano. “-And a crowd pleaser.” 

The people around them retreated to their games and entertainment, leaving the two alone. Her partner mindlessly began pressing the notes, playing a small melody that blessed her ears. Her eyes were transfixed on his fingers, trying to memorize where they went. After a minute, he noticed her interest and paused in his movements. It forced her green eyes to meet his blue ones. 

“What?” He asked. It was then she realized she’d been staring at him. The heat climbed to her face. 

“...Nothing! I just…didn’t expect this from you. I thought the only thing you knew how to do was shoot a gun.” He ‘hmphed’  as he went back to pressing the keys. She fidgeted with her gloves. “...What else do you play?”

“The violin,” He replied, his tone lifting. She lit up at this information.

“Really? That’s amazing!” 

“You’re complimenting me right now,” He commented suspiciously, looking at her as if she had grown two heads.

She grew offended. “What? I can’t admire what you do? I love music! Why do you think I wanted to sing when I was little?” 

Interest momentarily flashed in his eyes. He stopped playing to look at her properly. “Do you have any special requests?” 

She responded instantly. “No.” 

“Come on. You sing all the time when we’re sailing.” 

“In front of everybody?” She squeaked, motioning to the people around them. He arched a concealed eyebrow at her tone and she shrunk into herself. “I’ll….pass.” 

He observed her a little more before turning back to the piano. He resumed playing and didn’t miss the way she relaxed when he did. It made a little sense - they didn’t have a big crew, and were sort of in their own world while out at sea. Singing a few heartfelt shanties with your team was different from entertaining a full saloon with expecting patrons. 

He ignored the intense beating in his chest. “For the record, I think you have a beautiful voice. You shouldn’t be embarrassed of it.” 

She let out an airy laugh, flattered at his words. She went quiet for a moment before sighing. “Maybe next time. But only if you’ll play for me, espía.” 

He smiled under his mask. “It's a deal.”

[lexiloos-currentobsession]

Screaming into the void about my season 3 favs

Mabel

-SAY NOTHING, YOU UNDERSTAND? GET A LAWYER!

Witness

-I geeked out over the camera pan out from Mike on his stakeout to the Los Pollos Hermanos sign

-Also screamed at the TV watching out of focus Gus casually sweeping in the background while Jimmy is in the restaurant

-Hey who’s got your back? ME that’s who

-There’s a moment Jimmy and Kim lock eyes across their office and smile, they are truly happy and all is right in their world

-Kim asks Jimmy for a dollar so that she’s officially his lawyer. This man really gets all his best ideas from her.

-Fun foreshadow/call back: the art in Jimmy’s office is lady liberty

-Howard’s little hop to look over the fence💀

-Jimmy threatens to burn Chuck’s house to the ground… yikes

Sunk Cost

-Jimmy had red string wrapped around Marco’s ring bc it’s too big for his finger. BCS writers really think of everything and then make it symbolic.

-Bill Oakley replying “you moron” when Jimmy says he’ll be representing himself cracked me up

Sabrosito

-Be honest, on first watch did it click for y’all that Gus wanted Hector to demand Gus transport all the product??? That one took me a sec

Chicanery

-Chuck’s 512 - 521 address mix up explanation to Rebecca in the flashback almost makes it seem like Chuck inadvertently gave Jimmy the idea to do the 1216 - 1261 swap all those years later

-We get to hear “I DID IT FOR KIM” again AND we get to watch Kim hear it!!!

-HUEL REVEAL 😤

-The absolute betrayal of Jimmy telling Rebecca about Chuck’s condition after we see him go to such lengths to keep it from her in the flashback… not saying Chuck didn’t deserve it but damn. Feel like this gets overlooked compared to the rest of the episode

Off Brand

-Where are your notes let’s spread em out roll around on them and see what happens

-I thought you were president of the drama club or something? …i’m treasurer

-We get our first commercial starring Saul! (Saul Goodman productions)

-Saul Goodman, that guy has a lot of energy

Expenses

-Jimmy’s emotional breakdown act in the insurance office really had me for a sec. Spoilers but very same vibe as his breakdown to the mall security guy in season 6

Slip

-In the opener flashback Jimmy retrieves the band aid tin from the ceiling in his parents old store that we later see Gene still has!

-Mike searching for the body of the Good Samaritan gutted me

-This condition to me is as real as that chair, it’s as real as this house, it’s as real as you, but what if it’s not? What if it’s all in my head? And if that’s true, if it’s not real, then what have I done?

-We see Slippin Jimmy in action and it’s as wonderful as I imagined

-Who would have thought Nacho practicing close up magic would be such a vibey scene? The YouTube comments on the track validate me.

-Jimmy strumming smoke on the water, that man is up to no good

-Buddy this is the land of the free and the home of the law suit

Fall

-Howard is SUCH a dick to Jimmy in the parking garage HOLY SHIT

-What Jimmy does to Irene is unspeakable so we’re not speaking on it

-Kim’s car accident sacres the fuck out of me every time

Lantern

-Chuck really looks Jimmy in the face and tells him he’s going to hurt everyone around him because he can’t help it and to stop apologizing and accept and embrace it 😦

-Jimmy makes things right for mrs Landry to his own detriment

[wowowwild]

"Hey Pollo?" "Yeah, Truce?" "If you were a fruit, what kind would you be?" Klapollo week 2023 day 1: confessions (very loosely related)

Apollo was at yet another crime scene with his sister, Ema, and Prosecutor Gavin. He and Trucy had moved into the kitchen where they thought the original struggle might have taken place since the blood in the living room wasn't matching up to a punctured jugular. You know, regular sibling bonding stuff. Ema and Klavier weren't too far off, just on the other side of the breakfast bar that jutted out from the wall where Trucy was currently sitting staring at some peaches.

"Hey Pollo?" "Yeah, Truce?" "If you were a fruit, what kind would you be?" "He isn't fruity enough already?" Ema called over her shoulder. "Wh- Hey! This is a hate crime!" "What are you gonna do about it?" Apollo grumbled a series of syllables that were just shy of forming words. "That's what I thought. Fruit." "Damn, Polly. I don't think you can recover from that." Trucy jumped down from the stool and patted him on the shoulder.

Trucy went to chat with Ema presumably about forensics seeing as how Ema was suddenly taking out and showing off her gear. Apollo hoped none of it would work its way into Trucy's next show considering he'd probably get roped into it and he didn't like being sprayed with fluids or dusted with powders on stage. Klavier walked over to where he stood in the kitchen and was probably trying to look casual but he kept glancing at Apollo before staring back at the spotless fridge.

"So you like boys?" "Men, Gavin. I'm an adult, I'm interested in men." "Ok. Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool. So you would go on a date with a guy?" Apollo's bracelet was reacting, and with a response like that it should have been obvious that it would, but he couldn't figure out why. "If he seemed interesting." "So theoretically if a guy asked you to dinner and you were interested you'd say yes." "Probably." "Probably?" "Well as long as I wasn't busy or something." "Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool." Ok his wrist hurt. He was missing something. "Yeah but it's not like anyone's asking me on dates. Trucy keeps telling me to 'put myself out there' and I think it's only a matter of time before she gets sick of me saying I'm too busy and sets me up." "So no one has asked you out recently?" "Not since college." Not since college… Well considering Klavier had personally asked him out five times within the last month… "Mein Gott. Er ist ein idiot. Ich bin in einen Idioten verliebt." "Uh…" "Apollo Justice, I am formally asking you on a date." "Huh?!" "After we solve this case I would like to take you to dinner as a date." "O-oh… Ok." "Ok?" "Ok." "A blond guy?" "Ema!" Apollo shrieked yelled. "That's low even for you." She punctuated her sentence with a spray of luminol on the fridge. "Oh yeah, this baby's covered in blood." "Thanks, Ema." "No problem, Apple Juice." "Hm. I guess that answers that question," Trucy said thoughtfully. "I'm not sure I want to ask which question you're referring to. Come on, Gavin, before they decide to make the team up official." He grabbed Klavier's hand and started dragging him from the room. "Oh, it's too late for that." "We'd better start running, then."

[sorrowingsoldier]

I’ve been thinking about Eddie’s family giving Buck various nicknames. Bc if you’re Latino you know that you’re usually given a nickname based off some random crap or a physical attribute (I’m never called by my government name at home unless I’m in trouble or it’s serious) and every time Buck comes around the nickname is different. The first nickname he gets is pretty run of the mill: güero, because well. He’s a white man. And Eddie rolls his eyes at it because his mom’s side is literally white but the tíos wave him off. The second nickname is ojitos because the little kids joke his blue eyes are too much to look at and the tias love them so when he’s asked to bring napkins from the kitchen it’s directed at him with “ojitos”, which Eddie teases him endlessly about. The third is pollo after he dropped a package of marinated chicken on the sidewalk and spent the next fifteen minutes chasing a family dog to get a drumstick away from her because he’s heard horror stories about dogs and chicken bones. That one sticks for a while because everyone thinks it’s funny that the big firefighter is nicknamed chicken. The fourth is from a tipsy tio that couldn’t stop laughing when he made the connection and settled on Los Bukis for Buck because, well, Los Bukis are his favorite band and Buck literally goes by a Buck and it sounds the same okay. And every time Eddie and Buck make heart eyes at each other he sings Tu Cárcel at the top of his lungs. The fifth nickname is a little mean but Buck can’t stop grinning at it because with familial meanness comes a sense of intimacy that means he’s part of the club. Mancha, referring to the birthmark above his eye. It’s from one of Eddie’s sisters, Adriana, who said it so casually she must have been calling Buck it in private since he started dating Eddie. At first Eddie was sibling level pissed at her but Buck took it in stride, not upset or hurt, just laughed off the idea of ppl calling him stain and changed his contact name in her phone to Manchas with a yellow heart emoji next to it. The only time they call Buck “Evan” is the day he gets to abuelitas house before Eddie, the entire family’s sitting and standing around the kitchen trying to steal fresh tortillas off the comal, and he asks if it would be okay if he proposed to Eddie. He knows he doesn’t need their permission, but Eddie’s California family means the world to him and if Buck can include them in on this milestone in their life he will. Everyone’s stunned into silence for a moment, the smell of burnt tortilla filling the kitchen, before Los Bukis tio slaps Buck on the Buck and says “Evan, we would love nothing more for you to become a Diaz” and ojitos tias squish his face saying “mí Evan” wistfully, and he gets a text from the group chat with Adriana and Sophia that they guess they should change his name to “Evan Buck Manchas Diaz” in their phone huh?

[sparkys-ec-corner]

i have realized something earlier. im aware im most likely stretching things a bit, but now i cannot unsee the motifs and i'll make it everyone else's problem (oops)

one known fact is that Lemy being a pierrot is most likely a reference to the stock character from Commedia dell'Arte, characterized as a hardworking yet foolish servant as well as sad and often the butt of the jokes.

so i was thinking about this, reading a small bit about the characters, and i realized something: Lemy is also the harlequin, a cheeky and nimble servant who can be either dim-witted or intelligent and mischievous. its clothing brings in mind lemy's pierrot costume — brightly colored, bells on the hat, diamond-shaped patterns.

also. considering all of this, Rin Chan could be seen as the colombina — one of the sanest characters in the novel, she sings, wears brightly colored clothing. plus, the colombina has a relationship with both the harlequin and the pierrot, the former being her love interest while the latter having unrequited feelings for her

which made me think even more and this came to my mind: what if the harlequin and the pierrot are mildly symbolic to Lemy's double nature as both a naive, troublemaking boy and a hardworking yet sad servant to Julia? and this also applies to his relationship to Rin Chan?

such motifs could be read in a certain way: had Lemy never become the Fifth Pierrot (and thus remained the harlequin), Rin could've stayed with him; but since he had, Rin couldn't reciprocate any feelings — platonic or romantic — for him anymore (though she did care for him, still)

OUCH.

smaller points i also thought about:

Lemy's casual outfit is assumed to be monochromatic (usually a dark brown vest over an off-white long-sleeved shirt in fanart) while his clown costume is colorful. following the motif and aforementioned thoughts, this is an inversion of the harlequin and the pierrot's traditional color schemes (respectively, colorful and monochromatic).

Commedia dell'Arte is originally italian, but became very popular in france, with the characters of harlequin, colombina and pierrot being further refined. lemy (a lucifenian)'s past incarnation was pollo (a beelzenian).

[el-rincon-de-stelle]

24, 100 y 103 por favor

24: Estilo favorito de ropa: me gusta mucho el estilo clásico, vintage y retro, pero mi día a día es casual o minimalista

100: ¿Consumí otras drogas?

Nunca he consumido drogas ilegales, sólo alcohol y en un par cigarrillos (tabaco)

103: ¿Soy vegano o vegetariano?

Me gustaría ser vegana, pero considero que la mejor opción para mí estilo de vida es ser pesco-vegetariana o pollo-vegetariana

[mythandlaur]

Epithet Erased Week - Day 2

I'm still doing this! I just wrote it super late at night and figured it wasn't worth posting until daytime.

Two of the people here aren't mundies but since it focuses on one it probably counts. Please forgive my lack of casual knowledge of Mexican food. I don't do Mexican food. I barely do food. I don't even know how he wound up Hispanic descended but I'm committing. Also I have no idea how to write this many people talking at once.

(Ben isn't here because he hadn't joined the team yet.)

--

"EXCELLENT work, my newest loyal minion," Giovanni crows, mouth still half-full of chicken fajita. "I, your magnanimous leader, declare this a fine offering!"

"He means the food's good," says Shelby with a pointy grin. Though, something on Emil's plate gives her pause, and she leans over to get a closer look. "Hang on, did they put an entire drumstick in your soup?"

Emil looks down at his own food, somewhat confused, though not by what's confusing Shelby. The aforementioned entire drumstick is sitting in a shallow bed of thick red sauce, with a few green peppers on top.

"Yeeeeeeah?" Emil starts spooning the sauce onto the chicken. "Chilate de pollo, chicken and salsa. It's kinda like...almost a stew? We usually gotta make it with chicken breast and it's not really the same."

Trevor looks down sheepishly at his own plate of chicken fingers. (Giovanni had immediately and loudly shut down any jabs for someone catering to their own taste and texture preferences, and everyone else had gone along with it, though did start bumming fries off his plate). "Dark meat just tastes like dog food to me."

"Have you eaten dog food?"

"...I lost a bet."

"How do you eat it," Fred asks, also leaning over. "The chicken. Not the dog food."

Sirius shrugs, swallowing a nacho before responding. "I mean, it's just chicken. It's not, like, alien legs or something."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you," Shelby smirks.

Sirius leans back, wide-eyed. "No! I wouldn't eat an alien!" Shelby opens her mouth, and Sirius' expression goes absolutely flat. "Whatever you're gonna say, don't."

Shelby cackles, ducking her head and tearing into the burrito that's disappearing alarmingly fast.

"No, but seriously." Giovanni sets an elbow on the table, grinning almost as toothily as Shelby. "I didn't even know this was here and I consider myself a bit of a gourmand."

"It's hard to find the authentic stuff," Emil replies with a shrug, sipping some of the sauce out of his spoon before trading it for one of the tortillas that came with it. "But I hope you know you're never gonna be able to go back to the imitations now."

"Yes, YES!" Giovanni raises a fajita high in the air. "Food AND corruption! You will truly make an excellent addition!"

"That smells really good, actually, hang on." Shelby steals one of Trevor's fries, reaching over and dipping it in the sauce.

Emil's eyes widen. "Uh, I don't know if you're gonna like this. It's pretty spicy."

"Spicy schmisy, I can take it." Shelby pops the fry in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Huh. Yeah, that is pretty good, it's a lot of tomato and holy SHIT."

Shelby's face immediately flushes roughly the color of the sauce, and she coughs, covering her mouth with a hand and doubling over. Trevor smacks her on the back a couple of times, but Shelby waves him off, swallowing hard and immediately grabbing her glass of lemonade.

Emil just watches her with a raised eyebrow. "Told you it was spicy."

Shelby makes a growling noise in her throat, then throws the glass back, downing half its contents and a few ice cubes. Once she's done, she gasps for air, slamming the glass down. "Holy shit," she repeats. "You're deranged."

Emil just shrugs, mopping up some sauce with the tortilla and eating it while making direct eye contact with her.

"Hang on, hang on, hang on." Giovanni puts down his half-finished fajita. "Now we've gotta try this. I command it!"

"Uh..."

"You don't have to, Trevor."

"Thanks." Trevor blushes furiously at his chicken strips.

"Are you sure?" Emil's already taking another tortilla and tearing three pieces off it--he'd only been on the team for a few days, but he already knew Giovanni wasn't the sort of person who took 'no' for an answer, for better or for worse. After his own heart, really. "I kinda figured her making a face like that would be a turn-off."

"I'm dying and the sad thing is I kind of want more."

"You do?"

"No! But it's good."

Emil dips each of the tortilla pieces in the sauce and hands them off to Fred, Sirius, and Giovanni. Fred eyes his tortilla as if he's questioning all the life decisions that led him to this point, before very tentatively putting it in his mouth.

His eyes go wide. "Dude!"

"I told you."

"But dude!" Fred flaps his hand in front of his mouth as if that'll actually help, swallowing quickly. "Your definition of spicy is not our definition of spicy!"

"I mean, yeah, to me this isn't even that bad."

"What?!"

"You should try my mom's mole."

"...There's other kinds besides guaca?"

"Wow, okay." Having eaten his while they were talking, Sirius puts a hand to the side of his head, quickly reaching for a plain tortilla chip. "That's! Kind of a lot!"

"Hmm..." Giovanni eyes all of their reactions, then squints at the tortilla. He pops the whole thing in his mouth. "Ooh! I like the blend here. Maybe I should try their soup for potion inspiration next time."

...Giovanni then inhales sharply through his nose, tensing up to the point where the tendons in his neck. "Well! I think I might be a dragon now."

Giovanni proceeds to breathe out heavily as if breathing fire, and Shelby dissolves into snorts of laughter, covering her mouth with both hands. Emil grins, and Fred, Sirius, and Trevor crack smiles.

"WAIT!" All laughter immediately stops, and all eyes turn to Giovanni. Giovanni gives Emil a look far more intense than the sauce. "You said you eat stuff like this a lot? And even spicier stuff?"

Emil feels somewhat conspicuous now, but doesn't show it on his face. "I wouldn't say a lot but I like spicy, yeah."

Giovanni slams his fists down on the table loud enough to make Sirius jump and a couple heads turn. His eyes are practically gleaming.

"FLAMETHROWER!"

"...Huh?"

A couple at the next table over glare at them, and Giovanni mutters an apology before lowering his voice to a more conversational volume. "Your name!"

"Excuse me?!" Fred looks affronted. "You give me Car Crash and he gets Flamethrower for a spicy soup?"

"Well you are what you eat! Or in your case what you hit with a car."

"That doesn't even make sense!"

"It works with his hair too," Shelby points out. "Like, the orange?"

"I'm for it," Sirius chimes in. "Only other thing I had in mind was 'Cartwheel'."

"My choice of extracurricular activitiy doesn't automatically mean I can cartwheel."

"Yeah, no, you can do cooler stuff than that, I just don't know cheerleading words."

"I think it's neat," Trevor says, peering over at Emil. "What do you think?"

Emil stares down at his chicken, suddenly bashful. Honestly, he'd forgotten about the whole nickname thing everyone else had going on (apparently even Giovanni had one, though no one used it anymore). He'd kind of assumed he'd get something dumb because of the cheerleading, but they'd never actually poked at him about that in a way that made him feel bad.

They'd never made him feel bad at all, really. Yeah, they all made jabs at each other and were all desperately trying to be the cool one, but there was this vague feeling of...understanding that ran under the whole team. They were all just here to have something, and Giovanni had happened to pull them together and made that something...pretty fun, most of the time.

"...Yeah." Emil looks up, nodding once, firmly. "Flamethrower's good."

[myparadisemyblog]

El verdadero paraíso.

Aparecí en el aeropuerto sobre las once de la mañana con un vestido beige de corte recto y un abrigo del mismo tono por encima. Al verlo he sentido un mal sabor <<Qué hace Ángel aquí?!>>, trague saliva <<Ay noo!… muy bien , respira y sé paciente , una noche juntos en un club no ha sido suficientemente para conocerte y saber que odias las sorpresas (a las cuales yo les llamo imprevistos) o la invasión de tu privacidad >> me dije a mí misma. A continuación, puse esa sonrisa controlada y protocolaria.

-Hola, ¡Que sorpresa! -

-Supongo que ya no escuchaste mis mensajes- empezó

-Hmm no. Estaba corriendo para llegar a tiempo aquí, los iba a escuchar ahorita-

En los audios intentaba convencerme de quedarme otro día para salir de fiesta una noche más. Pero quien me conoce sabe lo difícil que es hacer que cambie mis planes y que es inútil convencerme cuando ya tomé una decisión.

-En fin… entonces te vas- dijo con un dejo de tristeza en la voz mientras caminábamos por el aeropuerto después de facturar mi maleta.

-Si… lo siento-

Caminamos otro poco, me invitó el desayuno: un sándwich de pollo y hojas verdes mientras él se tomaba un café con leche de avena

-Quién diría… que tú tan lista, tan modosita te guste tanto el sexo-

Me reí. <<¿modosita?!? Qué quiere decir con eso? >>

Al parecer aún no superaba el haberme encontrado en Tinder con un letrero debajo donde decía que buscaba a alguien para ir a un club swinger. Se lo había contado también a la pareja que estaba en la barra la noche anterior cuando llegamos al club . Rondarían los 30 y tanto , ambos , y estaban semidesnudos, ella con una toalla enredada sobre el pecho y él con otra toalla rodeándole la cintura. Esa primera vista era una escena fantástica, erótica pero hasta cierto punto convertida en casual , tanto como las que solían aparecen en mi mente cuando imaginaba cómo podían ser esos sitios.

El plan original era ir sola , sin embargo no me he atrevido.

La noche anterior habíamos sido ‘pareja en un bar swinger. Tenía ligeros nervios, los que se tienen siempre que se va a hacer algo que nunca se había hecho antes. Ese día después de estar un rato en la playa llegué a ducharme y ponerme lo más sexy que había llevado en mi equipaje y que me pareció lo más adecuado: un body lencero negro , un pantalón entallado, tacones y un saco; viajé cerca de una hora en metro para llegar desde el departamento donde me estaba quedando hasta donde habíamos dicho , resulta que no calculé bien y el pobre tuvo que esperarme por cuarenta minutos. Al verlo, avergonzada lo saludé y me disculpé; juro que, aunque siempre prefiero hacer que me esperen que esperar , no lo hice a propósito. Era más guapo en persona que en sus fotos. <Pff… barceloneses! Son la cosa más preciosa del mundo>> . Media cerca de 1.80, piel blanca y tersa y el cuerpo una complexión media tendiendo a musculoso.

-Hola Monique!- saludó con un beso . Si, mi nombre del Tinder

-Hola, de verdad lo siento , estaba muy lejos y no lo sabía-

-No te preocupes, ya me estaba aburriendo mucho pero después me acordé que eras mexicana-

Ahogue una carcajada en mi garganta. E hice una expresión levantando los hombros.

-Desde aquí podemos llegar caminando- me indicó

-Ok , vamos-

Durante unos veinte minutos caminando conversamos a cerca de que hacía yo ahí , a donde más había viajado , a donde había viajado él y cómo había surgido aquello de ir a un club. Él se aseguraba abiertamente poliamoroso , yo le conté mi historia y mi postura actual al respecto.

-Según la app aquí es!-

-Aqui?- respondí señalando una puerta con barrotes metálicos. Era como una casa de dos pisos, no había letreros ni nada por el estilo , a penas se alcanzaba a escuchar lo que parecía ser una fiesta.

Tocamos un par de veces el timbre. Abrió un hombre de estatura media.

-Hola, venimos al club - dijo mi guapo acompañante

-Pasen por aquí. Es la primera vez que vienen?- preguntó el hombre

-Si- contestamos al unísono.

A continuación nos hizo pasar a un espacio donde había un tubo con varias perchas , alguna ocupadas y otras vacías , nos indicó que debíamos dejar ahí bolsos, carteras , nuestros celulares y nuestras chaquetas y nos entregó una llave con un número. Si necesitábamos algo debíamos pedírselo. Acto seguido nos guio en un recorrido por todo el club: la barra, el bar, habitaciones obscuras con camas enormes, el spa , los vestidores, el jacuzzi , la alberca . Había algunas parejas en las diferentes áreas, algunas follando intensamente, de una manera más bien exhibicionista, para los demás más que para ellos. Otras parejas solamente conversaban con una copa en la mano o se hacían cariñitos.

La pareja de la barra nos miró con curiosidad desde que pasamos por primera vez . Después de ir a los vestidores y cambiar nuestra ropa por solo toallas blancas volvimos a la barra, nos sentamos al extremo contrario de ellos y comenzamos a conversar poco a poco. Ellos eran novios , llevaban poco y también era su primera vez en un lugar como ese.

Al terminar nuestras bebidas decimos volver a una de las habitaciones y tener nuestra primera vez en una de las camas enormes donde había esparcidos condones con el envoltorio por toda la habitación. Con avidez comenzó a besarme el cuello, los labios, se quitó la toalla de la cintura y yo deje resbalar por mi cuerpo la que me cubría. Sentí sus manos bajar a mi cintura , mis brazos estaban recargados en el colchón , conocimos con el tacto nuestros cuerpos en la semioscuridad y llegó el momento… mientras se colocaba el preservativo entraron en la habitación la pareja de la barra, se sentaron frente a nosotros para apreciar la primera vez de dos desconocidos qe se habían encontrado hace 30 minutos a lo sumo. Claramente esa presencia no tuvo efecto en mi comportamiento pero si en mi excitación, era la primera vez que iba a follar en frente de más personas, es más , era la primera vez que me veían desnuda más personas además de con quienes interactuaba. Ángel me tomo por la cintura y poniéndome boca arriba colocó mi cuerpo con fuerza sobre el colchón, separe las piernas para darle paso; cuando me penetró grité , era grande , a penas fue suficiente mi lubricación para recibirle por completo. Me fue abriendo con cada embestida , de vez en cuando miraba de reojo a nuestros espectadores que habían comenzado a besarse , después ella bajó a hacerle sexo oral . Al poco rato abandonaron la habitación , mientras se retiraban Ángel me cambió de postura, me puso en cuatro e intento penetrarme , sin embargo su erección se había bajado.

-Perdona, me distraje un poco con el público , nunca había follado así –

-Yo tampoco. No pasa nada-

-Me la chupas?-

Asentí y me acomodé para inclinarme sobre su regazo. Le pasé mi lengua por el glande , después por el resto hasta que su erección se puso lo suficientemente firme para penetrarme en cuatro; lo hizo hasta que se corrió dentro del preservativo.

Al volver a pasar por la barra ya había más parejas, volvimos por otra copa y entramos en otra habitación , en esta había tres camas , una en el fondo y otras dos de frente ; en la del fondo follaban una pareja madura , ella gritaba bastante mientras él lucía su miembro entrando y saliendo de la boca y vagina de su pareja, le daba nalgadas y la dirigía para que adquiriera la postura que él quería.

Le pedí a Ángel que nos quedáramos a verlos un rato. Nos sentamos en una de las camas de enfrente a observarlos y besarnos . Al poco entraron nuestros anteriores espectadores y se pusieron en la cama frente a nosotros.

-No quieres un intercambio?- Le pregunté a Ángel en voz baja después de un rato.

-¿Con ellos?- respondió señalando con la mirada a la pareja que acababa de llegar

Asentí

-Si, por mí esta bien. Les decimos?-

-Diles tú-

- Oww eres vergonzosa!-

- Si- le respondí sonriendo.

Me quede ahí mientras él hablaba con ellos en catalán. Volvió a mi lado con la respuesta de que preferían ir más lento , ya que era su primera ocasión en ese lugar , pero que nos agradecían por el ofrecimiento.

Aún no había terminado de decirme cuando ella hizo un ademan para que nos acercáramos.

Ángel fue por delante y de nuevo intercambiaron unas palabras en catalán.

Ángel me explicó en castellano :

-Ella solo quiere ver, dice que hagas un trio con él y conmigo. Quieres?-

Asentí y Ángel y yo nos cambiamos de cama , a la suya.

Él estaba renuente.

-Te lo presto- Dijo ella sonriendo y haciéndose a un lado.

A pesar de su “permiso” esperé a que él tomara la iniciativa. Mientras comencé a besar a Ángel apasionadamente hasta sentir un tacto ajeno sobre uno de mis pechos , él había comenzado a apretarlo , rodeó mi pequeño pezón con su pulgar e índice y comenzó a jalarlo, me humedecí más y comencé a gemir . Despegué mis labios de los de Ángel y los llevé hacía la boca del desconocido, le acaricié su torso ancho y después bajé una de mis manos a su erección. Nos besamos brevemente mientras lo masturbaba.

Ella nos observaba mitad confusa, mitad excitada. Me incliné sobre la cadera del desconocido quedando en cuatro , sentí las manos de Ángel tomar mi cintura y llenar mi vagina.

Incliné la cara para tomar el pene del desconocido en mi boca y así lo hice, él gimió , el calor fue subiendo por todo mi cuerpo, fue un micromomento sublime en que los tenía a ambos llenándome , el placer fue tan intenso y abrumador que mis gemidos se convirtieron en gritos , mi cuerpo se sacudió de placer, olvidándome de a quien tenía al rededor.

Y entonces ella salió de la habitación; en ese momento me detuve y el desconocido salió detrás de ella . No sé con certeza que ocurrió, supongo que no debe ser fácil ver una primera vez a otra chica provocándole placer a tu novio, y él a ella.

Ángel y yo continuamos hasta terminar y de ahí fuimos a la alberca.

Platicamos abrazados de frente y con las piernas entrecruzadas , las mías sobre las suyas abrazando su cintura y él sosteniéndome con sus brazos mientras disfrutábamos de la cálida masa de agua. Comentamos a cerca de lo ocurrido , ahí le confesé mi verdadero nombre y algunos datos más a cerca de mi identidad. Me penetró un par de veces más estando dentro del agua y en esa misma posición hasta que era tarde y tenía que irme, al otro día salía mi vuelo temprano . Con pesar , salimos de la alberca y nos duchamos juntos.

-Quédate! Quiero una novia como tú!. Siento que nos gusta lo mismo-

Se refería al sexo, claro.

Me reí

-Debes tener muchos pretendientes-

-Por qué crees eso? –

-Eres guapa , sexy, lista y abierta de mente. Eres perfecta-

Volví a reír.

Después de ducharnos mientras nos vestíamos mirábamos de reojo a otras mujeres que estaban llegando y estaban desnudándose. Nos cachamos un par de veces mutuamente y nos reíamos con complicidad.