#hector plus

[namastecar]

MG Hector Plus Savvy Pro ADAS 2023- ₹22.4 lakh | Real-life review

[littlesparklight]

so close to the end, so have this snippet.

"Hektor." Apollo tipped his cup and took a sip, gaze falling onto the gleaming nectar within. "Even if I hadn't known him before I came to glory in him for these past years, I always would have. But I've known him since he was a child - he and a companion of his were born on the same day as I call my own, the day my divine mother and sister brought me into the world when Eileithyia had finally been appeased and lured away from her mother's side. Polydamas I gave the clear-sightedness of knowing the paths and signs of birds and omens, for that was a fitting gift for the son of a priest of mine. Hektor I needed time for; before Kassandra and Helenos, the closest that family has brought out in augurs were Priam's oldest."

Pausing, Apollo cocked his head, glancing up to meet Hyacinthus' gaze. There was a curl of amusement in the corner of his.

"Perhaps I became too fond of listening to that child as he grew, for he was an ardent worshipper in the connection of our shared day of birth, and I could still find no fitting gift than my continued attention. He was earnest and gentle, someone I could see would be, and quickly became, a defender both of what I'd helped build and what was housed within. No great skill at the lyre or with poetry, and he preferred other weapons than the bow, but his company was… soothing."

"Soothing?"

Only part of this was what Hyacinthus had expected to hear. Even the parts he'd expected fitted ill to what he'd expected would be the whole those parts would fit into. He'd overheard Apollo talk about Admetos, about Kassandra, and Helenos. Knew how Apollo talked about him, both to him in their bed and to others. But there seemed to be no desire at all as he spoke of Hektor, though fondness was the beating heart found within each and every syllable.

"Soothing," Apollo agreed, taking another sip. Briefly, his expression was an open wound. "Not a son, not a lover, and I needed not be either of those things for or with him - I can see what my dearest sister find in companionship with her girls. He was a warrior, but a gentle one, and even before the war I'd begun to give him what I knew would serve him best, though it's a role I haven't exactly embodied until recently."

Apollo, not the poet or the hunter or even the plague bringer, but the rouser of armies.

Apollo of the bow, not in play or in search of sustenance, but the gleaming edge of bronze of an arrow nocked to find the heart of a man, a sword swung to kill, a spear thrown. Stormgod of the army, as the Trojans called him. In relief, in need, though not, as far as Hyacinthus had been able to tell, because of the hostility of Pallas Athena the sacker of cities, nor that of the more uncertain support of bronze Ares.

"So you gave him a helmet, with your own hands," Hyacinthus said slowly, thoughtful and understanding both, reaching out to stroke Apollo's knuckles of the hand he had clutched, and far tighter than it appeared by sight alone, around his kylix.

"I gave him a helmet," Apollo agreed, and threw back almost the whole contents of his cup in a single swallow.

[tenshichan1013]

RTA: “plus est en vous” favorite screenshots part III

[taygetuspositive]

local serial killer has difficulties reintegrating into civil society

[swanno-arts]

i love the beholder protags i sure hope nothing catastrophically horrible as a result of their choices happen to any of them

[0-twentyone]

“Fuck you look handsome” 😂😂😂

[morvantmortuary]

sugar high -

(Hector Morvant-Casares x Reader)

summary: Hex invites you along for an afternoon errand.

warnings: brief descriptions of a depressive episode. a shit-ton of fluff. like, syrupy, frothy fluff. I’m not kidding. you watch your teeth.

general: for Spooky Season in the Barrens: apple cider, candy corn, skulls. 🍎💀

I’ll be honest, Hex is not usually my go-to fluff guy, but goddamn if he doesn’t have a whole mushy side when you let him talk a bit.

Any corrections on his Spanish are appreciated - I double-checked everything and tried to stick with Mexican localization, but I’m still learning. :’D

also, I know so much more about the making of calaveras than I did last week. hot damn, those can get involved. any suggestions or needed corrections there (or with any discussion of the holiday) are also appreciated.

reader is as always genderqueer/non-binary (but I stuck to feminine endings for Spanish bc those are what I’m more familiar with, sorry :’D), and I write them as bisexual but that’s not explicitly mentioned here. any tweaks to language so people can have a more seamless experience are always helpful.

okay, hope this helps brighten your day a bit. 🖤

You didn’t even have to look up from your book to know who was calling you, and wasn’t just texting like a normal person.

Without looking up from your page, you reached over and answered with the tap of one finger, then put him on speaker with another. “Who dares?”

“Hey, so, I’m madly in love with you. Do you wanna go out with me? Like, right now, or I’ll die of loneliness?” Hex said it like he was asking about the weather. The mustang’s motor purred in the background, and the faint thud of some dance remix on low drifted through your phone’s speaker like a tinny distant dream.

You smiled, closing your book and setting it beside you on your mattress. “Hmm. That depends.”

“Depends? Ouch. After my very sincere confession?” Hector laughed, making you smile wider. “Depends on what?”

“We-ell.” You stretched the syllable out as you stretched in turn, then collapsed back onto your pillows. “I’m very busy having a lazy afternoon, you see.”

Pale autumn sunlight danced in dappled patterns on your ceiling. You’d successfully managed to change from your pajamas to your comfiest sweats after taking a luxuriously long bath. This was only topped by the fact that you were currently cozy in a bed with a book that had been on your TBR for months, that you’d been swearing you’d get around to, for real this time.

“Is that so?” You heard the click of his turn signal, apparently not given pause by your demurring.

“Yes, and I’ve had it scheduled all week. I simply can’t cancel on myself again,” you explained, waving a hand lazily. “…Unless.”

“Te escucho,” Hex prompted. You heard him tapping on his steering wheel with his index fingers, restless. “Come on, lay it on me.”

“I could only be convinced to cancel on me if you had some really, truly spectacular, showstopping way to sweep me off my feet, that I just had to drop everything for right now.” You fought to keep your tone as serious as possible. “So this better be a really fabulous proposal, whatever comes next. Lots of pressure. Definitely overthink it.”

Hex sucked his teeth audibly, pretending to think. “Damn, I was just gonna ask if you wanted to go grocery shopping with me.”

“I’ll get my jacket.” You slid off your bed, stretching again from where you’d be laying there in a marathon session with your novel. “How close are you?”

He laughed again, low in his throat with that little bit of rasp that felt like his fingers in your hair. A second later, you heard the short beep of a car horn in your driveway.

“Oh, shit. Be right there!” You grabbed your phone off your bed and hustled now for the door to your room.

“Relax, baby, no hurry,” Hector said, his voice echoing slightly in your hallway as you moved. “Maxi just asked me to pick some stuff up for this pre-need thing he’s throwing tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” You slid into your shoes where they were piled by your entry way, and then grabbed your bag for whatever wouldn’t fit in your pockets - charger, headphones, anything you’d want if you headed to his place after. “…What’s a pre-need again?” You topped all this off by pulling on one of Hex’s hoodies that you’d stolen from him ages ago, fitting you comfortably as it did every time. You’d have to sneak it back into his laundry soon, you knew — it was beginning to smell more like you than him.

“Ugh, don’t worry about it.” Hector sighed so loud you could almost hear his eyes rolling. “Basically lots of little old and anxious people start getting antsy and thinking about death in October, because skeletons, so he offers this afternoon thing where he teaches them how to set up all their funeral stuff in advance. Es hella aburrido, which is why he has to offer the free food.”

“Ah. That all makes sense.” You stepped outside and made a point to lock your door. Granted, Hex was the only person you could conceive of who had ever broken in - or who would ever want to break in - but still. Greymoon was a weird town.

One never knew what, exactly, was going to turn up as dusk claimed a larger and larger share of the hours.

You hung up the call as you pulled the passenger door open, leaning over to kiss him before you closed it. “So what all do you serve at a funeral tutorial-thing?”

“Oh, you know— hey,” Hector paused, eyeing your clothes critically before looking at you with theatrical levels of suspicion. “You told me you hadn’t seen that one.”

“What, this?” You feigned innocence, looking down at his hoodie. “Oh, I thought you meant your… other one.” The man had like ten, this wasn’t impossible. “Do you want it back?” You widened your eyes and pouted just the tiniest bit, certain he wouldn’t say no, but wanting to lay it on thick.

“Let me see.” He leaned over abruptly to take an exaggerated sniff of the hood and your hair, making you giggle and try to lean away. “Nah,” he concluded, sitting back up. “That needs another day.”

You were still giggling, adjusting the hood around your shoulders. “Another day for what?”

Hector took the car out of park, looking over his shoulder to pull out of your driveway even though he could do it in his sleep. “It needs time to get that good You smell in there. What is that, anyway? Perfume? Shampoo? Essence of angel?”

“Shut up, corn lord.” You swatted his shoulder, making him smile. “I only wear it as long as it smells like you, anyway.”

“Really? Aw. Sorry about that.” Hector grinned when you laughed again. One of his hands fell to its usual place on your knee as he pulled out onto the main road. “The hell do I smell like, anyway? Film developer and sadness?”

“No.” You intertwined your fingers together and squeezed his hand. “You don’t smell like sadness, Señor Artiste.”

Between Hex’s constant connection to the world after this one, his resulting insomnia, and his… already artistic temperament, you knew he occasionally had to fend off the depression that seemed to run in the Morvant line. Whereas Maxi diverted his restless version into constantly fixing and cleaning, and Rora’s manifested in squalls of anger and verbal venom, Hex’s ennui would lay him out flat for days — occasionally, weeks. You’d spent time before helping him excavate his bed from under piles of unfolded laundry that he’d just been sleeping around, and braiding his hair when he couldn’t find the energy to wash it. You knew he worried about letting you see him like this, and he’d confessed to you once during one of the worse episodes that he was scared it was too much to expect you to handle.

But just like the ghosts he channeled, it would eventually release him from its grip, and he would make a point to be just as sweet to you when it was your turn to deal with your inner demons.

“News to me.” Hector’s smile was a little more subdued now. “So, what, just film developer? Dusty house?”

“No, you smell like… hold on.” You held your free hand to your face, inhaling deeply from your sweater-paw. “You smell like… cinnamon. And coffee with chicory — like there’s any other kind down here.” You took another sniff, taking your time. “And something, like, incense-y? Is that from the viewing room?”

“Oh, nah.” Hex was quiet, and it stretched as you found yourself weirdly waiting for an answer.

He kept his eyes pointedly on the road and cleared his throat. “I keep some of the stuff my ma used to use in my closet. For emergencies.”

You blinked. Hector didn’t bring up that side of the family a lot. He didn’t really bring up either side, if he could avoid it, but definitely not hers. “Your mom burn incense a lot?”

“Yeah. Just for, like… ritual stuff. She was into that sort of thing.” He paused, and when the two of you were stopped at a red light, he lifted his steering hand to smell the hoodie he was currently wearing. “Weird. I’d totally forgotten it was up there.” He held it out and scrutinized it, as if to search for visible traces on the fabric. “Guess I’m just noseblind to it now.” He shrugged, but almost a little too hard. Like he was trying to shake off the idea.

You hesitated as the car pulled forward again, wanting to respect a sensitive topic, but still curious. “…What qualifies as an ‘incense emergency’?”

“Oh, the usual. One of the ghosts in the House gets too full of itself after a seance. Rora fucks up another taxidermy resurrection. Maxi gets a body for restoration that’s been in a car for a week.” He winked at you when you shuddered at the thought. “Any of the very sexy circumstances where you’d rather smell like something burning, or burning something beats something else in supernatural Rock-Paper-Scissors.”

“Yikes. I’ll keep that in mind.” There were a million more questions about it on the tip of your tongue, but you kept them in check as he parked in front of the smaller grocery store in town — the one that had the more unusual finds, depending on the season.

You were always slightly amazed at how he managed to pull the mustang in between some of the ridiculously large trucks that populated most Greymoon parking lots. Somehow, he always found a convenient spot for his little black car. Like magic, if magic could be used for something so mundane.

As the two of you got out, there was still the slightest shadow on his face as he closed his door. “So does that not, like, bother you?” When you gave him a confused look as you closed your own, he nodded to the hoodie. “I’ve had it in my closet forever; it must smell pretty strong.”

“Oh! No.” You circled around and wound your fingers through his again as he locked the car. “I like it, actually.” As the two of you headed inside, you found yourself swinging your hands together like a little kid; you were determined to lighten the mood back up to what it had been. “It’s layered with so much other stuff — your cafe con leche, your detergent, your developer. Your beard oil,” you added, which made him laugh sheepishly as the two of you passed through the automatic doors. “It just smells… I don’t know.” You racked your brain for the word. “Safe? Yeah.” You nodded. “You smell like home to me, you know? Now.” You wanted to keep talking, distract him from that earlier doubt with your current task. You scanned the aisles. “Do you have a list, or—“

You had to fight not to stumble when you were still walking and realized Hector wasn’t.

When you turned to check on him, he was looking at you with such soft, sincere eyes, you almost forgot the two of you had come to a stop next to a cluster of shopping carts.

Quietly, he lifted your intertwined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of yours with a sweetness that seemed all the more so in his silence.

You couldn’t look away, your own tongue once again tied.

It was one of those moments that he made you feel like you were the only two people left in the world.

“…’Shut up, corn lord,’” he echoed at last, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched you over your own knuckles.

“You shut up, whatever.” You felt your face grow warm in a way that had nothing to do with the indoor heating against the October chill, and stuck your tongue out at him. “You know what I’m saying.”

“I do. But I still like it when you say it.” He winked at you again, and this time there was a trace of the casual cockiness you’d seen when the two of you had first started flirting.

The difference was that now, you knew it was a front. Hex’s confidence was low key when it was genuine — a quiet, unflappable certainty.

He only played slick when how much he actually cared could overwhelm him entirely.

“I really mean it, Hex,” you protested quietly, squeezing his hand. “You have to know that by now.”

“And take that sweet shit for granted? Qué va.” But he still took his time letting go of you.

He sighed as he had over the phone, back to pretending this was a chore. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” He shoved a hand in a pocket of his own hoodie and pulled out his phone. With a couple of taps, he pulled up what looked like a text chain — you could see “pinche maxi” as the contact, followed by three skull emojis. “Got the list.”

You muffled a laugh, not wanting to be caught snooping. “Basket or cart?”

“The hell are you talking about?” Hector jokingly looked at you like you were crazy, before nodding pointedly at something ahead of you. “This is absolutely a cart situation, Bonita, come on. Eyes on the prize.”

Puzzled, you followed his gaze - and grinned, realizing exactly why he’d picked this store.

The Halloween candy display on the far side of the room was massive… but the stock floor was blessedly deserted.

You and Hex whizzed across the vacant produce section — taking turns balancing on the cart and pushing the other person — with only a brief pause to pick up a pre-cut veggie tray.

“There,” he said, before hastily checking off multiple items on the list.

You looked from the list to the tray, positive you’d seen ‘carrots,’ ‘celery,’ ‘cherry tomatoes’ as separate items. “Yeah, that has those.”

“Maxi’s going to complain and say he could’ve done it all himself,” Hector sighed, placing it carefully in the cart. “But he forgets how fucking picky he gets about setting up the extra chairs and the projector in the parlor, and stuff. That, plus having to cut everything just-so and arrange it on his little crudité board? He wouldn’t have time.”

You shrugged. “He can still put it all on the board if he wants to. It’s not like they’re gonna know.”

“That’s the spirit.” Hector snapped and pointed at you. “Primo needs to learn about artfully half-assing stuff. He takes all this pointless detail shit too seriously.” He paused to turn back and pick up a similarly packaged collection of cut fruit. “See? Boom. He didn’t even have those on the list; I’m just that thoughtful.”

“Clearly.” You couldn’t resist a smile. “Okay, so what else?”

“Cheese,” Hector said, as if this were obvious. “You always gotta feed grief with cheese.”

“But I thought this was for planning their own stuff?”

“It is, but have you seen how expensive shit is lately? They’re going to be grieving their wallets.” Hector pulled the cart behind him towards the dairy section with you balanced behind the handle. “You thought groceries were bad, you should see getting buried.”

“But isn’t your cousin on that whole...” You squinted as you tried to remember, gesturing vaguely. “Somthing-something against funeral poverty?”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean Louisiana isn’t still broke as shit. I swear to god, if it wasn’t for the damn House…” Hector sucked his teeth as he trailed off, staring down at two different cheese plates, then squinted at his phone. “Did he say…? Nah.” Seemingly satisfied, he picked up one of each and set them in the cart.

You raised an eyebrow. “Y’all expecting a big crowd?”

“Oh, hell no. We never get more than a few people at these things.” Hector looked at you, pointing to the plate with the slightly nicer variety. “That one’s for family.” He drew a loop in the air with his finger to rope you into the collective - something that still brought a bubbly warmth to your chest, even after you’d been dating this long. “We’re having that after, let the plebians have the cheap cheese.”

You laughed. “So glad I get to be included in the fancy cheese. I’m honored.”

“Only the fanciest of cheeses for you, mi amor.” Hex leaned up, giving you an obnoxiously loud kiss on the cheek. “Come on, we still need the important stuff.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s—” You were interrupted by your own delighted squeak as Hector rocketed with you and the cart towards the Halloween candy.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d giggled this much while just doing errands with someone. It had to mean something that you could leave your ideal day alone to go out and do something you normally dreaded, but still have more fun than your books could have ever promised.

Hector only just pulled you to a stop before any displays suffered an unfortunate collision, and you hopped off the back of the cart, the two of you sizing up the waiting shelves.

“Maxi said I could get Halloween stuff for this, but he said it had to be ‘tasteful’.” Hector gave the word some lazy finger quotes and rolled his eyes again. “Like I didn’t just see him buy one of those twelve foot skeletons. ‘It’s for the garden out back, Hex, it’s not the same’,” he quoted some little tiff they’d clearly had, doing a surprisingly good impression of his cousin’s accent around his own.

“So we’re definitely serving bleeding eye gumballs and gummy brains then?” you joked.

“I wonder if they still sell those plastic molds of hands.” Hector stroked his beard, pretending to ponder. “We could make ice hands with red food dye to put in the lemonade.”

“Crazy tasteful.” You nodded in agreement. “Or feet molds? Do they make those?”

“Ew, don’t be weird.” Hector gave you a look of fake disgust, making you both laugh before you split apart to browse in earnest.

“What about, like, mini chocolate bars? They’ve got like a million kinds.” You scanned the different shelves for the usual variety packs, finding a plethora of different groupings in brightly colored bags.

“You’d think, but no. Chocolate can melt and smear if people forget about it. And someone always forgets about it,” he added from the other side of the aisle, with a touch of that special exhaustion that comes from dealing with strangers. “And nothing that could’ve been remotely near peanut butter or nuts, Maxi said he needs a new epi-pen for the first aid kit.”

“Sure, fair. Can’t have anyone dying at the meeting about how to plan for dying. So that rules out…” You rotated slowly in place, taking stock of your options. “A lot.”

“Hey, that just makes my job easier.” Hector popped around an end cap, holding up two different versions of those holiday-themed marshmallows that had started solely as bunnies. “Skulls or ghosts?”

“For the thing or for us?”

“The thing.”

“Dude,” you laughed. “Like those little old and-slash-or anxious people won’t flip if we give them ghosts or skulls at a funeral planning seminar? You think they have enough whimsy for that?”

“Come on, it’s like, the whole reason we’re there. They gotta lighten up, man.” Hex rolled his eyes again. “Fine, I’ll just put them in the cart for after. Maxi can’t get mad at me if I bring him some, he loves this kinda shit.”

Your eyes fell on shelf of some old-fashioned candies. “Oh my god, I’m an idiot, this is so obvious.”

“How obvious?” Hector asked from the other side of the shelf.

You grabbed a bag of candy corn, inspecting the ingredients. “Nut-free factory! That’s a bonus!”

“Man, those poor factory workers.”

“Ugh, low hanging fruit.” You rolled your eyes, picking up another bag. “Come here.”

“Make me,” Hector teased, suddenly directly behind you.

“Jesus!” You whirled on the spot, startled at having not heard him sneak that close. “Behave.” You whacked his shoulder lightly with one of the bags you were holding.

“Jesus never behaved, that was like his whole deal.” Hector just plucked the bag from your hand, inspecting it before raising an eyebrow. “Candy corn?”

“What little old person doesn’t like candy corn?” You made an incredulous gesture with your free hand. “And like, these candy pumpkins.” You picked up a bag of the traditional pumpkins with the similar texture. “It’s classic for a reason.”

“Yeah, cultural indoctrination.” Hector smiled. “I can’t believe people actually eat this stuff willingly.”

“Oh, come on, it’s nostalgic as hell,” you said, placing the bags in his waiting hands. “It’s like being a little kid in your costume again.”

“Doesn’t mean it actually tastes good.” He nonetheless held still, tilting his head to look at the bag’s contents. “But sure, he can put them out in little decorative bowls or some shit, he loves those.”

You turned to set a last bag in his hands. “You honestly mean to tell me you don’t like candy corn?”

“I mean, I’ll eat it,” Hector said, sounding resigned. “But for the same reason as when I was small: because it’s there, and because it’s what we have, but not because I actually think it’s any good. Not that one,” he said, nodding to the last one you were holding. “We have enough.”

You frowned at the couple of bags in his hands. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, so at least there won’t be any leftovers.” You shrugged, then beckoned for him to follow you onto the next aisle.

“Are you kidding? The old people aren’t gonna make a dent in this, candy corn multiples the minute someone turns their back on it.” Hector followed you. “Don’t you know Halloween math?” He continued as you burst into laughter. “The same thing would always happen: Tia Mathilde would buy some candy corn, or those tiny pumpkins, and then the bowl in the kitchen would just keep refilling itself all season. It’d never get any emptier, even when I was sure the twins ate so much they were gonna puke.”

“Maybe she just kept buying more bags?” You looked over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. “Like how it works in the real world?”

“Nope, I’d check the trash whenever the bowl was full again!” Hector shook his head. “You watch, we’ll put this out, and then we’ll still be eating it until…”

You paused, turning once again to find Hector stopped behind you. “Babe?”

Hector didn’t answer, squinting at something on a shelf you’d passed.

“Something jumpscare you?” You walked back to peek over his shoulder.

“Yeah, those.” Hector nodded to a plastic box holding three small decorated sugar skulls.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know they started selling those here.” You paused, surveying the surrounding products. “I didn’t realize they sold imported anything here, to be honest.”

“Those aren’t imported,” Hector said, nodding at the label. Sure enough, it was one of the generic store holiday brands. “They’ve just realized they can sell them and actually make some money. Check the piping around the eyes,” he gestured loosely with the corner of one of the bags. “There are people who work for months to get the decorative ones right, the legit shit. Even the ones you give kids to eat, they take their time with. That looks like someone put the icing on with their eyes closed.”

“Oh.” You leaned forward, inspecting for yourself. The piped icing to decorate the facial features looked very haphazardly applied, some of it smeared against the plastic during transport. “I see what you mean, yeah.” You glanced back at him. “It’s like, the opposite of artful half-assing. Half-ass art-ing.”

“I don’t think that’s even half an ass’s worth,” Hector said, smiling again when he made you laugh. It faded though as he looked back the store brand calaveras. “And they’re charging how much, for that quality? En esta economía? Hell,” he shook his head. “If that’s what people will pay around here for shitty ones, I should throw a bunch together and sell them at the House. Maybe be able to afford that new lens I want.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to make those,” you said, looking between him and the sad little skulls. “I mean, I should’ve guessed, what don’t you know how to make—“

“I don’t,” Hector said, glancing at you. You giggled, and he grinned. “I’m serious. I mean, in theory, sure: it’s like — what’re those fluffy stiff fuckers — meringues, right? Eggs and sugar? Mold it and wait? But my mom always went down early and bought ‘em from this artist lady she liked. For the ofrenda, and an edible one for me so I’d stop trying to lick the decorative ones when her back was turned.”

You paused in your laughter at that image, hesitant. This was the second time his mom had unexpectedly popped up this visit, and the first time hadn’t been… happy, per se. “Did you guys do that every year?”

“When we lived here? Not always,” he shrugged. “Sometimes she couldn’t get down and back in time, so we’d just leave some extra treats out and hope people coming back to visit would understand. Plus, when Tia Mathilde was in a bad mood, she’d get snippy about what room Ma could set stuff up in. Eventually, she just kept a small ofrenda in her room so she didn’t have to deal with Auntie griping about the marigold petals on the carpet.” He sucked the inside of his cheek for a minute, his eyes distant. “…She always remembered when we lived with her folks, though.” He looked away for a moment, pretending to inspect his sneakers. “But by then I usually spent the day elsewhere. It was kinda crowded. Anyway. Come on, beautiful,” he said, looking back up at you abruptly. “We got veggies to put in the fridge, get my cousin off my back.”

“Yeah, definitely.” You were sure that wasn’t what was actually what had him preoccupied, but you didn’t press. You followed him back to the cart, the two of you heading for check out. Though he was friendly as ever with the giggly (clearly somewhat smitten) cashier, you noticed Hex was subdued again, not even making his usual joke of buying out all the day-old donuts with Maxi’s credit card.

By the time the two of you walked out with your bags, you were scrambling slightly, trying to figure out how to bring him back to the present so he wouldn’t linger too long in his reverie.

As the two of you loaded the groceries into the trunk of the mustang, you spotted it: a little tent set up on the far side of the shopping center, with a handmade sign and two elderly people bundled up in lawn chairs. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Hex looked up from closing the trunk when you tugged his sleeve, eyes refocusing like he was emerging from a daze.

You thumbed towards the cider stand. “You want some?” You smiled, hoping you weren’t being obvious. “My treat?”

“Absolutely not.” Hector shoved his hand in his pocket, quickly producing his cousin’s card once again. “We’re still on a very official mortuary errand, let it be Maxi’s treat.”

“Then shouldn’t we bring him some?” Your smile felt more genuine as Hex took your hand, threading your fingers back together as you crossed the cracked little parking lot. “Since he’s being so kind?”

“Eh, it’s a had-to-be there thing, he knows how it goes.” Hector shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing personal, this is purely business.”

“Ahuh.” You muffled a small laugh. “And Rora? None for her?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ emphatically. “La Reina made it perfectly clear she didn’t wanna come along. She didn’t help with grocery shopping, so she doesn’t get to reap the rewards of honest work.”

“Damn, you guys are cold-blooded,” you teased, hip-checking him lightly.

“Hey, I warned them fair and square, I didn’t wanna mix business and family.” He spread his free hand in an exaggeratedly helpless gesture. “This is what happens. It’s cut-throat.”

You were still laughing a little when the two of you reached the tent, and you couldn’t miss the rosy-cheeked elderly couple sneaking each other a knowing smile when they greeted you and Hex. A yellow lab sat up from where it had been laying sweetly at their feet, shaking itself and mirroring its people with a panting, tongue-hanging smile of its own.

You watched silently as the cider folks poured you both a full styrofoam cup and chatted with Hex, wondering if they maybe saw themselves in you two. If they had been like you once, feeling like there were only endless unknowns ahead of them, but had finally settled into a gentle present together - from the gentleman’s brief conversation with Hector, one filled with their apple orchard and their dogs, selling homemade cider on crisp afternoons.

As the two of you took your cider (with an extra cinnamon stick for Hex, since he asked the elderly woman with a polite yet roguish smile), you both made sure the lab behind its ears, Hector reminding her in multiple languages that she was a good dog before the two of you took your leave.

That wouldn’t be such a bad forever, you thought to yourself as the older folks waved goodbye. Just the two of you doing something little to make some extra cash, sitting together in the sunlight and chatting about everything and nothing while you waited for people to swing by. Riding home - a shared home, a house for both of you - in his old car, the tired quiet comfortable like a well-loved quilt.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the happy little noise Hector made as you both leaned against the trunk of his car, and you turned to see him enjoying a long sip with both cinnamon sticks still in the cup.

“Good?” you asked, smirking.

“Mmhm.” He pulled the rest away as if to inspect it, licking his lips. “Their spice blend is really killer. Fuck a PSL.”

“That’s why Greymoon never gets a Starbucks, they just know they couldn’t compete.” You took a sip of your own, and unwittingly made a similar noise. The taste that flooded your mouth was immaculately golden, the kind of distilled late afternoon sunshine from the romanticized autumns of years past. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding.”

“Right?” Hector nodded. “I didn’t think we had any witches around lately, but now I don’t know. Little lady over there might just be hiding a pointy hat at home.”

“Now watch, we’re both going to be magically enthralled to some ancient Apple God when we least expect it.” You took another long sip nonetheless.

“Hey, beats my current thing.” Hector shrugged, downing more of his.

Oh. Right. That.

The small hitch in your soft little idea of forever.

You took another sip, your mind torn in both directions: his mom, which was what you’d been originally trying to distract him from, and now the issue of his necromantic Chain, which you were wondering if you needed distracting from.

“You having flashbacks on me?”

You blinked, looking up to find Hector watching your face. His head was tilted, his small smile looking crooked as he searched your eyes. “Where’d you go, preciosa? You got all thousand-yard stare for a sec.”

“I’m good.” You smiled, trying to prove it. “Just… Fall.” You gestured to the gorgeous day, the drinks in your hands.

“…Ahuh.” Hector said, clearly skeptical. He took one of the cinnamon sticks out of his drink, sticking the end that had been in the cider in his mouth. “Try me anyway?”

You hesitated, not wanting to bog down the moment. “…Why do I get the feeling you did the cinnamon challenge when it was a thing?” you asked instead.

“Nuh-uh,” Hector lied, the way he turned from you slightly to chew on the stick giving him away.

You laughed, immediately picturing the worst. “It didn’t go well, huh?”

“No, because I definitely didn’t do it in a room full of people at a party. What’re you, a cop?” He pointed the stick at you accusingly as you laughed even harder, nearly snorting cider as you went to take another sip. “You got your little FBI man in your phone to go through mine for proof or something? That’s low, that sneaky bastard, he’s supposed to be on my payroll.”

“I love you,” you said through the giggles you were trying to smother.

“Obviously.” Hector threw his hair dramatically over his shoulder, but he couldn’t quite hold the bravado as he looked at you, his gaze softening back into that look from before. “…I love you,” he repeated quietly, his version somehow warmer than the cider in your hand.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he slid an arm around your waist as he kissed the top of your skull. You stayed there, enjoying the smell of the fresh cinnamon and the hoodie he was wearing.

“…Earlier,” you spoke just as quietly, afraid to burst this little golden bubble. “When we were inside, you said something about ‘if it weren’t for the damn House.’” You angled your head so you could see his face. “What’d you mean?”

“Oh.” Hector rolled his eyes somewhat, his hand moving your waist to fiddle with a drawstring on your borrowed hoodie. “I just meant we’d be outta here already.”

You blinked, forcing yourself to hold off on the automatic hurt that wanted to leap to the forefront. “‘We?’ Like you and the twins?”

“Eh, if they wanted to, sure,” he said, shrugging. “But we’d find each other again if we needed to, they know that. I meant you and me.” He looked down at you. “I’d take you and we’d move somewhere beautiful, like, tomorrow. Get the fuck outta here, go somewhere with something going on. A real art scene, or at least someplace with actual nightlife, maldita. Or maybe we’d be like those weirdos that live in a van,” he went on. “Move around a bunch of places for a while. Like, we’d live at the beach, until you got tired of the beach, and then we’d try the mountains or something, y’know?”

“Oh, so you’d take me, huh?” Your grin threatened to split your face, it was so hard and so real.

“Obviously,” he said, his bravado back with a wink that made you laugh again. “I’d have to, before you had a chance to think it through.”

“Hey, I might be more game than you think.” You reached up, twirling a lock of his hair around the end of your finger. “What about where you’d want to live, though?”

“That’s the easy part.” He hip-checked you gently, which just pushed you more against his arm as he squeezed you in a hug. “Long as you’re there, I’m good.”

You looked at him for a long moment, pretty sure the warmth in your chest now had nothing to do with the cider or your hoodies in the sunshine. “You wanna head back?” Your hand dropped to tug lightly on his sweatshirt. “So we can put the groceries away before we get completely distracted making out, and so we don’t have an audience?” You glanced out of the corner of your eye at the tent in the distance.

“Yeah, sure babe. One sec.” Hex’s arm supported your back as he dipped you backwards, holding you steady as he made a show of kissing you in front of the grocery store.

It took you two until the lab started barking across the lot to remember you needed to actually get in and start the car.

(perhaps I was the real corn lord all along. :)

if you read this far, I hope you treat yourself to something delicious today 🥰)

[idollete]

ami vi que você colocou jogadores na masterlist e quis saber se você conhece o héctor bellerín ele é simplesmente o melhor exemplar de Puto da espanha

sou uma total CADELA pelo héctor bellerín de mullet, bidogin finin e cheio de tatuagens, juro amg eu só falto LATIR pra ele!!!!!! e você foi luz, porque a cara de puto desse homem é fora do normal, fico fraca com a marra que ele tem afffff 🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴

[blackjackkent]

OK time for yet another boss battle combat report!

(Everyone seemed to like the Iron Throne play-by-play so I guess I'm getting more thorough with these. XD )

We get to fight big boy, who i'm not referencing by name till under the cut, and his three lady friends from the other thrones, plus the three guards from the front door.

Sarevok is quite beefy - 206HP. Surprisingly, the guards from the front door are the other scary ones; That Which Guards has 236HP and the other two are 162. Amelyssan and her cronies are a much more reasonable 72, which means that they're our first targets to get off the field as quickly as possible.

springagainafter: hee hee I've been waiting for you to get to the bit where Sarevok shows up springagainafter: ghost Melissan too UGH springagainafter: PUNCH SAREVOK, HECTOR springagainafter: do it for Rasaad, it's what he would want XD blackjackkent: heeeeee blackjackkent: hell yeah

Let's see how well Team Juggernaut holds up to this challenge.

Minsc was able to open the fight by taking out Amelyssan at once. (He gets five attacks with Nyrulna on the first turn of the fight due to Dread Ambusher and Enraged Throw and he used them all on her.) I like to think that this was not actually strategy but just him zeroing in on her immediately as the person he hates second most on the field (but was most likely to kill quickly) and wanting her GONE.

I backed up out of combat for a bit so I could look at Sarevok's inspect screen and he's a spooky boy. Among his Exciting Features are: Legendary Resistance (unsurprising), Exceptional Plate (decreased physical damage), multiattack, bleed infliction on enemies with full health, and 20AC. Fundamentally, though, the scariest thing about him is that he has a number of equally scary friends and a lot of health, so we'll be better off taking the friends out of the equation fast. We've dealt with Steel Watchers, so as long as Sarevok doesn't start exploding, I'm not as worried as I was with them. XD

The three echoes also turn out to be primary targets because they cast Haste on Sarevok and Slow on our party, both of which are TERRIFYING in this context, so good to get them off the field as quickly as possible.

As the fight goes on, though, things get... interesting. Every time our boy Sarevok hits something he gets a stack of "Murderous Strikes", and when it hits 4 he can cast "Deathbringer's Legacy" which basically allows him to do a four-strike multihit. And when hastened he can get that VERY often.

On her second turn, Jaheira DISCONNECTS HERSELF FROM THE PARTY because she doesn't have time for my mediocre combat skills, casts Confusion on all three of the weird scary guards, and beelines straight for Sarevok like a house on fire entirely without my input.

CORRECTION: The above point seriously confused me through quite a few reloads and I couldn't figure out what was causing it bc it only seemed to happen sometimes. Turns out that one of the Big Scary Guards cast "Compelled Duel" on her, which I think broke her out of my control briefly even though it's supposed to just prevent her from attacking anyone other than the caster. And then I think her casting Confusion caused the control to drop (when the BSG failed its save) but didn't put her back in the party.

I like my interpretation better, though, that she's so pissed off with Sarevok that she doesn't have time for my bullshit.

Honestly Hector's brute force punching is carrying the day. (The spirit of Rasaad moves within him indeed.) His second turn he got a starting topple on Sarevok and melted him for a total of [does hasty math] A HUNDRED AND FORTY FIVE DAMAGE. My boy is a guided missile and we love that for him! This build is so broken oh my god, Zen. XD

Looking more closely at the Big Scary Guards, I noticed this:

This is good news actually and means we probably don't have to kill them, just keep them from killing US long enough to deal with Sarevok.

Having finally, after a number of confused reloads, figured out what was going on with Jaheira, it was time to bring out the owlbear to smack Sarevok around, and leave Karlach in the back to deal with the BSGs. Four owlbear claw hits in a row for ~22 damage each is spicy, plus each of them does knockback, which gives us the incredibly satisfying image of Sarevok Anchev bouncing across the floor like an errant ping-pong ball.

Eventually we whittled him down! The BSGs, as expected, despawned when Sarevok died, and we just had to clear out the remainder of the echoes in order to finish the fight.

Yasssss. SAREVOK ANCHEV IS NO MORE!

*loud cheering from Faenya-Dail*

I would damn well hope the Murder Tribunal are impressed after that display. XD

I didn't even know that was an option but I think I'm glad we didn't become whatever that is. XD

Excellent. That will be Thursday's project since I have raids tomorrow. XD

[th3p0rtalmaker]

Incarnate Chap. 3 Sneak Peek: Revamped

Eventually Adira spoke again, addressing Rapunzel once more. "I understand that the concept of a sibling may be foreign to you, since it sounded like you grew up as an only child."

Rapunzel glanced down the table at Cassandra, who was glaring thoughtfully at her plate like it was a particularly difficult sewing pattern she was struggling to figure out. "I...think I'm starting to understand what it means," she replied slowly, eyes lingering on Cassandra's one hand that was still covered by a piece of the armor she had taken from the Great Tree.

"Then hopefully you can understand why I must prioritize Hector's wellbeing equally with the Moondrop's."

"Yeah well, he literally tried to kill us. Other than making sure he doesn't cause any more damage with the Moondrop, why should we care about helping him?" Cassandra demanded sourly, directing her glare at the older warrior.

Adira heaved a world-weary sigh, then requested, "Allow me to make a confession. The Great Tree isn't the only quick way through the Southern Mountains. It is the quickest and most direct, but there are others, with the natural hazards one can expect while traveling through a mountain range. We could have used one of them to avoid facing Hector."

Cassandra immediately leapt to her feet and pounded her uninjured fist on the table. "HA! I knew it! We didn't have to go through the Great Tree - you just wanted us to!" she declared, pointing an accusing finger at the knight. 

"Right, and, you wanted us to go thru a deadly jungle, inside of an old demon tree, which also housed a dangerous hermit bent on killing anyone who came through, because…?" Eugene inquired, glancing nervously between the two women.

"Because it's been 25 years since I've seen my brother," Adira replied sternly. Her voice became earnest as she continued, "And I believed that if I could show Hector the power of the Sundrop, show him a real person wielding it...perhaps I could convince him that I’m not a traitor to our kingdom - that there is a way to neutralize the Moonstone's destructive power."

"You thought if he met Rapunzel, he would 'see the light'," Eugene summarized. He and Rapunzel shared a meaningful glance, and the princess knew in her heart they were reliving the same beautiful memory.

"Exactly. If that's how you'd like to phrase it," Adira affirmed with a shrug.

"...Again, why should we care about him?" Cass demanded, crossing her arms. 

"Hector isn't your enemy," Adira replied firmly. "He only attacked you because he believed it was part of his job as a member of the Brotherhood. He wants the same thing as the rest of us, but he disagrees on the method we use to achieve our shared goal."

"I mean, if you think about it, Hector only tried to do what he believed was right, right?" Lance spoke up. "He thought we were the ‘bad guys’ because he believed anyone who came to the Great Tree was a ‘bad guy’ trying to steal the Moonstone."

“True. And Cass just looks like a ‘bad guy’ in general, so that’s a totally acceptable mistake on his part," Eugene agreed with a smirk, earning himself a glare from the lady in waiting. 

"Not now, Fitzherbert," Cassandra growled.

"Come on guys, this isn't the time to fight with each other," Rapunzel reasoned. "Cass, please sit back down; your eggs are gonna' get cold," she requested. Cassandra grumbled and did as asked, grumpily shoving another bite of the scrambled eggs into her mouth while continuing to glare suspiciously at Adira.

🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗🌗

Finally got around to fleshing out that dialogue blurb I shared a while ago! 🤩🤩🤩

[lieutenantselnia]

At this point I feel like the common denominator for my fictional crushes is actually just "people with cool ships"😂

I have a total of 15 romantic f/os on my list as of now (counting mains and secondaries/crushes), and there's already 4 of them who hold the title "Admiral", or at least did so at some point in their life.

Thrawn, who even becomes a Grand Admiral later on, commands the Imperial-class star destroyer Chimaera (plus he is also in command over the entire 7th Fleet). Ar'alani, who has the heavy cruiser Steadfast. Piett, who reaches the rank of Fleet Admiral later, commands the Executor-class super star destroyer Executor - this ship is fuckin 19km long I kid you not - (plus he is second in command next to Darth Vader over the Death Squadron). And finally Norrington, who commands the lineship Dauntless (I know he used to command other ships too but I think the Dauntless could count the most as "his" ship even though he was still commodore back then).

~~~

Not taking a specific rank it's even more than twice the number: of course Captain Barbossa (who captained both the Black Pearl and later also the Queen Anne's Revenge) and Captain Davy Jones (with the infamous Flying Dutchman), but also Commodore Karyn Faro (even though she served as Thrawn's second in command aboard the Chimaera for the most part of her story and didn't have her "own" ship, she was supposed to take over command of the 11th Fleet when she got promoted - possibly a promotion to admiral would have followed eventually as well, however it's unclear if she was able to depart to her new station before the battle of Lothal and what her further fate was). I'm also counting General Grievous and Lieutenant Lyste in because even though it wasn't always the only thing they did, commanding a ship was an important aspect in their respective careers at some point (for example when Grievous commanded the Malevolence).

So, somehow almost two thirds of my entire f/o list happen to be people who command ships, and I don't quite know what to make of that xD

[streets-in-paradise]

do you still write stories? i just downloaded this app and read some of your stories, they just so gooddd.

if you do, can you please write something about Patroclus x f!reader, like headcannons or a fic.

If you need inspo for a plot, Patroclus could fall in love with Odysseus’s daughter as they meet when the Greeks celebrate peace with trojans and they reach together Troy (because yn is the princess of ithaca) or she just waits for him to come back.

Thank you so muchhh

Hi!!

Welcome to Tumblr, and to my blog :)

Thank you so much for your kindness on my writing 💕

I am still writing fics and my requests for Troy are permanently open because there are only 3 writers in the site currently still writing for that movie: my mutuals @alysinwonderland-at-tea ( writes for all lead men), @ethereal--muse (only writes for Achilles) and me.

I write for all characters and i love cute Patroclus fics. This idea sounds so cute, thank you for sending it in!!

Actually, your idea for the plot is fantastic cause in mythology Odysseus did lead a peace mission in Troy demmanding Helen diplomatically before the war started. I can either use the Sparta settling of the movie's first peace mission or take that plot from the source and start from there.

Now that i think about it, Odysseus going like " You know what? Let me handle this" in Sparta would have made a lot of sense. It's not said in the film, but Helen and Penelope are relatives (cousins), so it would make even more sense for him to be there as mediator between trojans and spartans. Knowing his trickery, he may just go like "menelaus! i came with my family for a reunion because my wife wanted to visit yours. Ohh, you have a peace mission? I had no idea! Well, I guess I'm part of it now" * Captain Kirk pretending to be surprised meme*

This is a great start, thank you so much i'm gonna have so much fun writing this.

[tenshichan1013]

RTA: “plus est en vous” favorite screenshots part LV

[beevean]

« Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere, » asked Isaac when the two crossed each other in the corridor. If he had noticed Hector’s tremors or puffy eyes, he didn’t show any concern. « With all the work we have to do, you leave me alone? »

He would have almost believed Isaac needed him.

« Lord Dracula summoned me for a private report, » he blurted the first lie that came to mind.

And right on cue, there it was: Isaac’s entire body and face tensed, oozing that damned jealousy that had consumed his entire being. Hector was nearly tempted to unbutton the collar of his blouse to show what exactly he was envying… not that Isaac would be deterred. Far from it.

This is the least I expect from the likes of you…

But Hector was not Isaac.

« Of course, » his friend muttered. « Forgive me for asking. He needs you more than anyone else. »

And he couldn’t deal with him too, not anymore, not right now.

« Am I hearing right? Are you questioning Lord Dracula? »

Isaac recoiling sparked a glimmer of hope in Hector.

If he realized that he was worth more than Lord Dracula’s negligence… if only he could see what Hector saw as well…

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Why couldn’t he just outstretch them towards his friend? Seeking Isaac used to come as natural to him as seeking water in a forest. The infinite chasm that had been keeping them apart was only a few steps wide.

Come with me. Let’s go away together. He doesn’t care about us. Just you and me, creating a real Heaven for the two of us. If you really…

« No. Never. »

Isaac grabbed his elbows as if to shield himself, and turned away from Hector. His hair perfectly covered his face.

« If our Lord needed your advice and not mine, he must have had His reasons, and it’s not up to us to understand. »

Hector closed his mouth.

He walked past Isaac, who didn’t call for him.

His friend didn’t, not anymore.

[cowboyrobholding]

i have grown to dislike mikel arteta. very much.

[0-twentyone]

It has been a really long time sincs something good happened. Felicidades, Fort 💕