#KYLE IS MEXICAN

[snikt111]

please hit the unfollow button if you think kyle rayner is white. white latino or just white white white. i dont care. please. thats all.

he is mixed race.

[eowynstwin]

More (perhaps controversial) takes about the 141, this time asking what kind of artists they’d be (because I have a BFA and dammit I insist upon using it):

Soap’s tried a LOT of disciplines but always came back to painting. He’s an abstract expressionist and puts his whole body into his work; throwing paint across a monumental canvas, or moving pigment around with huge wedges he’s got to hold in both hands. His works are overwhelming, explosions of color and movement, so much happening in one place all at the same time that looking at them feels like looking at a bomb going off. (He’ll indulge in some figure drawing but mainly for fun with his hookups.) Think: Jackson Pollock.

Gaz is a portraitist with an uncanny ability to reveal his subjects’ personalities. He works almost exclusively in oils, in a style that blends academic painting with Impressionism, and spends days with his subjects, getting to know them on a level nearly as intimately as a lover, drawing them out of themselves into a state of honesty that’s both fragile and cathartic. Somehow he can translate the truth of a person onto canvas in a way that can be either comforting or brutal. Every piece of his manages to make the viewer wonder how he could know so many people so well. Think: John Singer Sargent.

Price is a stonemason and bronze sculptor. He works at a 1:1 scale and most often depicts figures in some sort of dramatic motion; dancing, flying, reaching into the distance, or with wind-tossed clothes or hair. The best way to describe his work is romantic, in the classical sense; he reveals moments of powerful emotion, uninhibited by propriety, such that his work feels like it could sweep you away. Price is an artist in love with something he hasn’t found yet. Think: Luo Li Rong.

Ghost works almost exclusively with metal. He learned to weld and never wanted to do anything else afterwords. His sculptures are constructed of raw, sometimes dangerous-looking pieces of steel, scraps he scavenges from construction sites himself and puts together with no plan other than to stop when it looks finished. His work is not always intimidating, though; sometimes, his favorite things to put together are weird-looking benches that he will deposit in unfriendly parks with nowhere to sit. He’s gotten fined more often than he remembers for it. Think: Julio Gonzáles.

[mikichko]

The thing about Fuerzas Especiales (Mexican Special Forces) is that you know not to be wary of the masked men. It's the ones whose faces are bare and out for the world to see that have you cautious. The ones who truly have no tether and absolutely nothing holding them back.

So when you meet the 141 you’re not worried about Ghost. You’ve handled men like him before. Maybe not to this degree or stature, but close enough.

It’s Gaz who makes you pause. Stopping mid-step before you regain your composure and properly out-stretch your hand to shake his.

You've seen that look in his eyes before. Not on him, but your comrades. The few men who teeter on the edge, desperately trying to figure out if they'll be rule breakers or enforcers. If they'll be a blind executioner or if they'll learn to judge too. All while the battle rages on, chipping at their resolve. Soon enough, they'll show if they're truly as morally righteous as they think themselves to be. Those men, they're the ones that worry you.

You know how masked men will act. Understand that they'll carry themselves differently and act differently because of the anonymity and detachment that their masks provide. Especially from the unspeakable acts they carry out.

But people like him? Who show themselves bare? Owning the savage actions they commit, regardless of the way they teeter? Yeah, men like Kyle Garrick terrify you.

[milkydough]

The Garrick family!!

[buttdumplin]

One week post hysterectomy and you're ready to pull out your hair and theirs. Ale and Rudy can help.

cw: poly!141 x transmasc latine!reader, established relationship, mexican slang, spanish-speaking reader word count: 1620

You don’t often have to remind yourself how much you love your partners, how you cherish them, because it comes so naturally. But with the hovering and the near constant check-ins and the way they won’t let you even walk on your own, you have to recite a mantra about it so you don’t pull out your own hair.

“Yall realize that 6-8 weeks of recovery does not mean 6-8 weeks of being bed bound, right?”

John is almost too quick to answer, “Hasn’t even been a full week yet. You need to take it slow.”

“None of you ever take it this slow when you’re injured.”

“None of us have to deal with that major of a surgery usually.”

There’s plenty of pillows around you, you can chuck one at his head without it affecting your posture. You spend a second looking for the right one to throw, but the pillows John bought you are slightly bigger than what you can currently lift. Motherfucker has the gall to grin at you, proud of himself.

Needing to at least exit the room, you wiggle around in the nest of pillows as much as you can without hurting yourself. A too hard lunge makes you gasp and Simon appears at your side, reaching in with strong arms to pull you free from the tender trap. You sit him down once you’re on your feet, motioning for him to stay there. You can make the walk to the bathroom. You should make the walk to the bathroom. You need to make the walk to the bathroom.

“Remember not to strain yourself,” he calls from the bed, edge in his voice making it clear that he’s only barely able to stay where you left him.

Any other time, any other one of them, you’d be turning and mocking them with an “okay mom.” In fact, you still want to with all the careful tiptoeing, but when you turn and find those big brown eyes full of soft concern, the anger dissipates. Simon is in uncharted waters, feeling helpless and clinging to what he can do for you. His hands clutch the bedding under him, knuckles turned white.

You answer him softly, “I will Moncho, thank you.”

As silent as he is, you know he’s standing outside the door the moment you close it, waiting for your call should you need him. It’s usually not a problem, but having to swear to no locked doors for the foreseeable future makes you move carefully in the bathroom. The last thing you need right now is to grunt a little too loudly and scare Simon. 

“You know you don’t all have to stay housebound, right?” you try to keep your tone friendly as you open the door. “Yall can take turns stepping out for groceries or snacks.”

“Everything delivers now, love,” Kyle sounds a little too smiley for your liking right now.

“I just don’t want yall to get bored, cooped up.”

Johnny’s laughter drifts in from the kitchen, “Please, we’d stay home every day if we could. Delighted we can now.”

There has to be fucking something. They’re sweet, they’re lovely. The surgery and recovery would be impossible without them. But there has the be some fucking way to not have all eyes on you every minute of every day. You ease back into the plush nest made for you, trying to drum something up. Thankfully, the sound of the doorbell saves you from spiraling deeper into your frustration.

“Damn, yall really did order everything for delivery.”

Johnny sprints for the door, excitement in his eyes, “This might be one of the things we ordered for you specifically.”

Swear to god, if they ordered more of those impossible compression socks, they’re never gonna hear the end of it. At least it’s been a good day. You’ve got clean sheets and bedding, you showered with little to no pain (Simon insisted on joining you to help), and the incision sites are healing well. The bladder pain you could do without, though. 

“Special delivery,” a new voice sings. Two?

“Ale! Fito!” you surge forward to stand, but too many men shouting in protest sits you back down. “What are yall doing here?”

They make their way through the pillows to greet you properly, facial hair rasping against your cheek. Thank fuck for that shower earlier. Can’t be too mad about this being orchestrated now. 

Ale smiles bright, plopping down next to you, “Un pajarito medio nalgón-”

“Cuatro,” Rudy interrupts, taking a seat much more gently, “Cuatro pajaritos bastante nalgones.” 

“Simón, Simón. Cuatro nos pidieron un favor.”

“We did say ‘special delivery’.”

They each place a white box in front of you. No labels or tape, just folded closed gently. The folded pieces bloom open in their hands, revealing a giant ziploc bag full of lots of little somethings in each. You can make out little star and flower shapes, all coated in a clumping white powder.

“Are these my tía’s cookies?” 

Ale sucks his teeth, wrapping an arm around you, “Clarín cornetas, mi niño.”

“Which of you did she flirt with?”

“Both,” Rudy chuckles, “We got that bordertown charm.”

It’s then that you remember your tía’s bordertown and their bordertown are on opposite sides of Texas. Not only did they have to deal with her shameless flirting for who knows how long, sweet fools must have gone so far out of their way to get these. And the sheer care they must have put into the transportation. These cookies are frail and yet so few of them are broken. They even accounted for the lard used in them, little ice packs peek out from underneath the large ziploc bags. Tears blur your vision, their voices going out of focus as they give you updates on your family.

“There is one condition though,” Rudy hands you a tissue. “One bag is for you, and the other is for them to share.”

Johnny comes running in from the kitchen again, “Wait, just one for all four of us?”

“That’s what Tití said.”

“Fuck, I really thought she liked us,” Johnny stands completely still for a minute, clearly reviewing the interactions they’ve had with your tía in his mind, cookies forgotten. 

Kyle takes their bag, diving into it immediately and coating his chin in the powdered sugar falling from the cookie. It doesn’t take long for the other 3 to converge around the bag after that. They’ve only had these cookies once before, at your youngest cousin’s quince, which was full of too many “so exactly how are you related?” questions. Your tía says she saves them for special occasions, but you know that the labor that goes into making them is too much for the cookies to be in regular rotation. Either way, they’re a true gift. Your cousins must have helped her this time, the start and flower shapes are just off enough to not fit into your tía’s perfectionism. It won’t take a whole lot of convincing to get Simon to use his fancy calligraphy to write them a thank-you note.

“We were also promised grilled goods upon arrival?” Ale speaks loudly over the cookie commotion.

John perks up at that, faint surprise on his face.

Kyle makes an excited noise around a mouthful of cookie, speaking from the corner of his mouth, “Right, and we’ve got everything set for the chef.” He wrangles John towards the backyard. 

Simon looks worried as Johnny approaches him, clearly meaning to take him to the backyard as well. He’s been firmly by your side since they brought you home from the hospital. He looks over at you, tracing your figure slowly, double-checking every inch of you. Taking a deep breath, he stiffens.

“We’ll look after your boy,” Rudy says softly.

“Aquí te espero, amor.”

He nods, your words enough to ease him through the door. 

With all the prep before the surgery, a couple of really intense weeks where you all worked to prime the house for recovery, this is the first chance you’ve gotten to exist without them being in the same room. And it’s so fucking nice. You couldn’t ask for better partners, but it’s almost relieving to not have to worry about accidentally setting one of them off and launching them into motherhenning. Rudy and Ale have clearly been given the task of looking after you, but even just having new faces to talk to is refreshing.

“Which one of them set this up?” you ask them.

“It was less a request and more a suggestion from us,” Rudy says.

“Bien los conocemos,” Ale adds. “Te quejas, pero bien chiple que te tienen.”

You grin, not even trying to deny it.

It’s muted, but the sounds of the boys chatting drifts into the room. Some back and forth about marinating and time, some laughing about sneaking around. You can’t quite see them from your window, but it’s reassuring to know that this time is helping them relax as well. 

Ale and Rudy tell you more about their trip to visit your tía, passing along the greetings and well wishes your family sent you. It’s an easy rhythm: one talks, the other corrects, and you get to giggle as you listen. Then you swap: you talk, Ale listens, Rudy shushes him. It’s soothing in a way that reminds you so much of home, the ruckus everywhere and laughter echoing. When the tension in your shoulders has finally slipped away, Ale turns to you, curious and serious.

“So about this recovery period,” he says.

“And a grueling schedule before the surgery?” mischief lights Rudy’s eyes.

You groan, their cackling drowning out the sound of you swatting at their chests. 

[p3ndeja6]

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Kyle b. x Latina! y/n

AGED UP

SUMMARY: kyle was good at every subject, algebra to physics; but there was one class he cannot seem to be good at, no matter how much he stayed after school or missed lunch to study. Spanish was just really hard for him. You on the other hand we’re fluent, born and raised. So Spanish was very easy for you.

warnings: smut! teasing, public sex, handjobs, praising!, degradation! (if you squint perhaps, idk lemme know), dirty talking! sub! kyle? dom! y/n?

(not proof read,, my bad)

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“dude you are really failing Spanish?” Stan questioned, “yeah dude, i don’t know what is wrong with me, I’m good at everything!” Kyle said frustrated. Kyle was worried about his grade in Spanish and it didn’t help that midterm report cards are coming in the mail tomorrow. “Dude what am I going to do!, I cannot fail Spanish and it shows on transcript” Stan and the rest of the boys were thinking. Until butters popped out of nowhere saying, “you can ask y/n! She has an A in Spanish and she’s Latina” he said wiggling his eyebrows.

Y/n… Kyle thought, he did notice you in his 8th Spanish period. He always thought you were cute and funny as well. He blushed on the thought on asking you for tutoring… usually he is the tutor. “Yeah dude, ask y/n she can really help you” Stan agreed. “I don’t know dude, do you think she would want to?” “Are you a fucking idiot? kyel I’m even smarter then that” cartman finally joined the conversation after eating his big ass BLT with just the B. Kyle couldn’t even talk back because he was right, just ask her for help. ‘I need at least a B+ in this upcoming test, fine I’ll ask her later today”

Kyle all day was wondering how would he approach you, ‘ hey can you tutor me?’ no no.. ‘uh hey ! is it cool if you can tutor me?’ nope ‘yo! tutor me’ god no!

8th period rolled around and he entered Ms. Vazquez class, he searched the room for your bright presence. He saw you in the back talking to Wendy, laughing and being pretty. He started walking back to you, “uh hey.. y/n can I ask you something?” “uhh.. yeah sure what’s up Kyle?” He was nervous, why was he nervous around you? “I wanted to ask you if you can tutor me on Spanish? It’s just I’m failing and you’re the only one I know who’s good at spanish and at teaching. So if you wouldn’t mind, I could pay you if you want-” “kyle!” He looked at you shocked “it’s okay! I’ll tutor you. Don’t worry about paying me” you said all sweet

“o-okay! um do you want to meet in the library?” “Yeah sure, If you get there before me pick the table in the back by the window!” “alright-” “atención niños, ya sonó el timbre por favor busquen sus asientos!” Ms. Vazquez exclaimed and class has already started

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kyle hurried to the library, ready to learn. He brought his notes, highlighters and laptop, he was determined to get an A on this test for Spanish. He sat in the table you clearly instructed him to sit at earlier today. He waited there patiently for your arrival. kids were leaving the building and buses were starting to leave. He heard the door open and there you were with your pink backpack holding your keys and your metal water bottle together making them clank around the quiet library. “ahh! There you are, this was exactly the table I was talking about, such a good listener!” She said. The way y/n said it made Kyle shiver a bit.

“okay Kyle let’s start on the last worksheet señorita Vazquez gave us” “oh yeah worksheet 3.5, I have that one!” “Great let’s start on that one to see how much help you need… okay so you basically need to fill in the blanks on the correct Spanish term, the first one is El supermercado esta or estas muy lejos?” “uhh estas?” “no kyle eso no fue correcto, that was not correct” you said now getting visibly closer. “Cmon kyle I know you know this” you said seductively. Your hand now reached his thigh, softly massaging it closer to his crotch. His breath hitched, he started to breath rapidly. Twitching in your touch.

“uhh I- I- I think it’s.. esta?” He stuttered, “si! muy bien!, such a good boy Kyle” you whispered the last part “did you know good boys get rewarded?” You were now softly clutching his dick, feeling it get harder in his tight pants. Kyle started to whimper in your touch. “Next one Kyle, el jarrón está or estaba lleno de agua?” kyle was trying so hard to concentrate on the question, you started to unzip his pants and put your hand on top of his clothed dick, feeling it get big and twitch in your hands. Giving the clothed tip a slight squeeze. “Cmon mi vida, what’s the answer?” You teased him. “Uhh it’s esta” he kept losing focus but if he answered correctly you’d give his cock the attention he desperately wanted. “You’re such a smart boy” you kept rubbing on his now sensitive dick, you finally took him out of his suffocating boxers. Making his hard cock spring up, all red and precum leaking from the cherry red tip. “Now be a good boy for me Kyle and don’t make any noise, because we do not want to get caught.. do we?” You teased, kyle was shaking over how overstimulated he was being, all he did was nod because if he opened his mouth, loud moans and whimpers would escape. “ah uh I need you to use your words querida” using Spanish pet names were really getting him all riled up, all he could muster up was “y-yes” “okay! next question” he looked at you confused and frustrated, “what? I’m here to tutor you Kyle” you smiled innocently leaning over the table on your elbow and now started to stroke Kyle’s big dick

“en el cielo se puede/puedo ver júpiter desde aquí?” you started to increase the stroking speed a bit, he couldn’t focus all he could focus on was the pleasure he was receiving, “kyle what’s the answer?” you started to slow down again, he noticed the slowed friction, “it’s uh puedo” “no that’s incorrect” you took your hand off his dick. “no! please- more- please” he begged in such a slutty matter, your pussy started to throb and soak over his sweet whimpers you caused him,rubbing your legs together trying to ease the the throb in your panties. “you didn’t get it correct, so I’m not going to touch you until you get this next one correct” kyle whimpered, trying to focus on the questions “this one is now different, en que año se independizo finalmente mexico?, I hope you know dates” he knew this one, it was so easy. “1821!” You started stroking him again, “good! Such a smart boy, how would my smart boy like to get rewarded?” You stroked him painfully slow “y-yes please- please touch me” he embarrassingly said. you loved the way you powered over him and complied for his request “ok mi niño, I’ll touch you, only because you’ve been so good for me” You started to stroke his hard cock, rubbing the tip to get him even more harder then what he already is.

Kyle started grilling the table trying so hard not to make any noise, “you like that huh? All tense over my soft hand on your beautiful cock” “what I would do to have your dick in my pretty ,small mouth” you seductively said in his ear. He let one moan escape over the way you’re talking to him. “f-fuck y/n please-” I want you to ask me in Spanish” his brain is all mush “por favor y/n dame mas” “que lindo te vez asi, hecho bolas en mis manos” you pumped him faster, squeezing his tight balls. you felt his dick twitch, you knew he was about to cum. “Y/n I’m about to cum-" “yeah? I want you to cum, fill my hands with your babies” that did it for him, he bite his lip so hard trying not to make any noise, tasting the copper from all the bitting he has been doing. He leaned his head back; feeling the sweat beads and his curly hair stick to his forehead, softly swearing profanities under his breath. “I’m cumming!” He softly spoke, kyle let his load off on your pretty manicured hands. “Fuck baby, had all that cum in there for me huh?” Kyle was too fucked out, head fell on the table trying to catch his breath. He started feeling light-headed, you licked off majority of his cum off your hands, wiping the rest with a make-up remover you had in your backpack.

“I think you will pass the Spanish test, pretty good at it. Don’t know why you’re failing” you teased while collecting your things. You got up and bent behind Kyle. “Next time let’s study in my room, we can do more than handjobs.” You butterfly kissed his neck, kyle leaning to give you access. You giggled and stood straight. “I’ll see you later Kyle”

You left Kyle still strung out on his orgasm he just had in the public library. You walked to the other isle and saw Bebe and Wendy with wide eyes. “that’s how you do it, see you later cabronas” you laughed off to go jerk off to kyles moans you had forever engraved in your brain.

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[kyle-the-artistic-one]

Dios mio...

Estoy a nada...

[maginersp]

Feliz Día de la Independencia 🇲🇽

No soy una persona muy patriota, pero ¿Pasar una noche con mi familia y comida deliciosa? Claro que sí 😁

[justvibingwhilecrying]

Drew some kyles to feel something again

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Christmas Traditions | 141 x Reader

Idc if it's not December yet, it's Christmas time. Might do a part two with Alejandro, Rudy, Konig, and others (need to do research on non-UK Christmas traditions)

John Price

Christmas is the only time of the year he can truly get away from work and he makes sure to get as far away as possible. He's rented a little cottage as north in Scotland as he can get.

You drive a car full of stuff up on the 20th, he allows 10 minutes of Christmas music per hour on the road.

He cuts down a tree for you, even if it's not totally legal to do so.

Most of the ornaments are yours, he never decorated before meeting you. He likes watching you stretch to reach the higher branches and will pick you up by the waist if need be. He likes putting the star on top.

You mostly spend your time together in bed or by the fire.

He's a splurge when it comes to gift-giving, a couple small gifts and then something big like a kitchen-aid mixer or something else expensive you've been wanting.

Spends Christmas night dancing with you even if he has two left feet.

Wishes he didn't have to leave on the 27th

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

He likes going out of the country for Christmas. Doesn't want to be in London, especially after Picadilly.

You almost miss your flight, running through the airport.

The location is always a surprise.

This year it's Gibraltar.

You have a nice hotel overlooking the ocean

Spend time at the beach and Christmas market.

The two of you spend Christmas eve watching old movies and drinking wine.

You love the trips but hope next year he'll bring you to meet the family. Maybe give you a ring too.

Matching Pjs, tea and biscuits is how you spend Christmas morning

John 'Soap' MacTavish

He's the one that buys the matching pjs.

Loves Christmas more than anyone else in the group

Takes you up to Scotland to meet the family even if you've only been dating for a couple months. His mom refuses to let him miss it.

Sings songs the whole drive up

Apologizes profusely for having to leave for midnight mass with his mom, and will hold your hand the entire time if you choose to go.

His mom barely leaves the two of you alone so any 'alone time' is in the car.

Not the best at gift giving, he watches you and his mom walk around the market and buys whatever you pick up. You have a lot of funny phrase mugs now.

Teaches you the proper way to pronounce "Nollaig Chridheil" (Merry Christmas in Scots)

Drags you outside when it snows to either build a snowman or pelt you with snowballs

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Wouldn't even realize it was Christmas if it wasn't for you

He kind of panics because he didn't plan anything or get you any gifts

Lots of last-minute shopping.

Gets a little charlie brown type tree. You're both taller than it but make orange slice ornaments and a popcorn garland. It makes the flat smell incredible if a little buttery.

He can put up with one movie so pick carefully. He might fall asleep but he's still wrapped around you.

You fall asleep on the couch as the little spoon and wake up the next morning with a stack of presents by your little tree. He's somehow still behind you.

Traditional English breakfast and tea Christmas morning

You got him a bracelet with your name and the date you met stamped on it, even if he can't wear it in the field it's always in a pocket.

You can convince him to go with matching socks but nothing more

He's just glad the two of you are together and will try to do whatever tradition you want if it makes you happy.

[soapeca]

siblings :) and mexican stan

[blue-lantern]

Thinking about the differences in interacting with your culture as a means of interacting with your family vs interacting with your culture as a means of interacting with a broader community. Thinking about Kyle’s complicated but loving relationship with his mother and stolen relationship with his father. Thinking about both his Mexican and his Irish heritage existing as connections to his parents without much consideration to a broader community.

I can’t find this panel again anywhere so I’m starting to think I may have made it up, but I swear there’s a panel out there of Maura trying to get Kyle to say something in Gaelic and him trying to brush her off. It’s a light scene, really not very consequential. But it makes it feel like it’s a culture he was presumably brought up in but maybe not one he really actively partakes in beyond some smaller stuff. Similarly to his ultimately loving relationship with his mother that he spends a lot of his early runs distancing from the rest of his life for one reason or another. He didn’t even know he was Mexican growing up, that part of himself comes as suddenly as the knowledge that Gabriel wasn’t a dead beat and loved him and his mother so dearly. The culture is his, but new to him, maybe a little foreboding and overwhelming in the same way meeting his father would be.

For Kyle it does feel like his heritage and his identity exist primarily as extensions of his relationships with his parents a lot of the time.

[basu-shokikita]

Kyman being whipped for each other obeying each other

A Boy and a Priest & Mexican Joker

[sillycqt]

doodle dumpp ... tons of stuff ( last one is actually a real confession from yesterday and i had no idea how to reply so i tried being funny )

[buttdumplin]

Thinking self-indulgent thoughts regarding the 141 boys and their little quirks with a spanish speaking reader. Some stumbling through their accents, some begging for more, some keeping their own knowledge of the language secret. I might come back to this later...

[perenians]

i feel like the gabriel vasquez was such a fuckin big bomb to drop and for nobody to have really done anything with it since is WILD. like there's a fat chunk of story that could be written off of that and nobody cares about it unless it's to give kyle a hispanic heritage month cover. a travesty.