#[ ft. santiago ]

[rominacortez]

🔥 + santiago!

"The way he can make you feel comfortable and safe. You can tell he's present because he cares and it's not just because it's his job. There aren't a lot of people who can do that upon first meeting you. Of course he's attractive but he's rare in a beautiful way." / @santiagodeleons

[andrewdyer]

"You came back during the engagement party? Shit." Santi seems to be having a mini meltdown, or he's in a crisis. Granted, he doesn't blame him when his first experience coming back home was a slaughterhouse... or a slaughterhotel, as he calls it. "Okay, take a deep breath, man." All of this was insane, but he needed his friend to breathe a little. "They've been freaking about it for months, either they're numb by now, or they're trying to push forward rather than look at the past, or they're just ignoring it," he suggests. "I'm trying to do some renovations and plan out some ways to get it up and running properly again."

“Can’t believe this is what we come home to, man,” Santi said, letting out a long sigh. “I was so happy that I came home to a party, even if I was confused about it being an engagement party, only for it to turn into a slaughterhouse. Or slaughterhotel. Slaughterhotel ballroom, whatever. It was fucked up, with the being stuck there and not being able to leave knowing there was a killer in the building, and it’s only been what, a week since then? How everyone isn’t still freaking out about it confuses me,” he admitted, feeling like his brain was hurting from trying to make sense of it all. Maybe he should just quit thinking about it, and carry on with his life, like everyone else seems to be doing. “How’s the yacht club been treating you?” Santi asked, an offer to just change the subject.

[theinfinitedivides]

love how fast certain sections of this fandom gets back on the 'liking Armand is anti-Blackness' train whenever shit happens with regards to promos. love that tried and true method of shifting the focus here

[angelsdvsts]

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . ↪ closed for @drcamsx ˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ .

"i might be better on my own, i hate you blowing up my phone."

[brntout]

location : santiago's apartment

time : sometime after 3:00am.

for : santiago @atonehart

“it’s borderline fascinating…” they had been going on a while now, from the moment they walked through the door. “...how you can’t seem to listen to save your life! i said go home and what do you do? you go to the fucking bar! seriously santi, it’s like you— no, leave the peas on for a couple minutes more. it’ll help with the swelling.” kennedy shouldn’t even be here. they should be out there. gathering intel,  securing interviews, writing that damn story for the register. tending to the wounds of the prodigal ‘brother’ should be at the bottom of their priorities right now. yet there they were, walking over with a glass of water, a dose of painkillers, and an awfully sour expression. there's a pause the transaction ensues and after a beat, they finally ask, "are you okay?"

[impvrities]

for  as  much  as  romy  would  like  to  pride  himself  on  his  culinary  skills,  he  hasn’t  quite  mastered  the  art  of  making  the  perfect  chimichanga.  there  are  some  foods  that  are  better  left  untouched  unless  you’re  going  to  a  specific  restaurant  for  such  a  meal.  authentic  mexican  food  is  something  his  european-soup  of  a  background  can’t  quite  master  and  in  a  way,  it’s  almost  better  that  way.  during  his  annual  trips  to  belgium  in  the  name  of  visiting  his  father,  mexican  food  is  certainly  one  of  the  things  he  misses  from  america  the  most.  it’s  also  why  on  a  bi-weekly  (  slowly  becoming  an  ‘almost-the-weekend’  treat  in  reality  )  basis  that  he  finds  himself  ordering  pickup  at  la  tostada  amargada  on  his  way  back  from  his  office  at  the  university.  what  better  way  to  grade  essays  than  over  guac  and  chips  ??

the  hostess  is  preoccupied  leading  a  family  of  five  over  to  a  table  nearby  as  romy  enters,  but  he’s  sadly  familiar  with  the  takeout  shelf  located  near  the  host  stand  and  makes  his  way  over.  he’s  not  a  heathen  who  snags  his  order  without  checking  in  with  an  employee  even  if  the  thought  of  minimal  human  interaction  is  tempting.  office  hours  with  his  undergrads  left  him  ready  to  call  it  a  night,  white  dress  shirt  slightly  creased  from  the  day  with  romy  already  giving  in  and unbuttoning  the  top  three  buttons,  and  his  briefcase  haphazardly  dangling  off  his  shoulder.

he’s  nearly  at  the  host  stand,  gaze  tracking  the  employee  as  she  hands  out  the  menus  and  calculating  timing  before  he  can  go,  but  severely  lacking  in  self-awareness  of  both  himself  and  those  around  him.  it’s  why  the  sudden  impact  of  another  body  propelling  forward  into  him  is  a  surprise  more  than  anything  else.  almost  on  instinct,  his  hands  reach  out  to  stop  the  other  person  from  falling  further  and  grabbing  hold  of  their  forearms.  the  mention  of  his  name  and  the  familiarity  of  it  on  his  tongue  has  romy’s  attention  snap  back  up.  “santiago  ??”  romy  echoes,  blue  hues  blinking  slowly  in  a  way  that  probably  has  him  resembling  an  owl.

what  are  the  odds  that  the  two  of  them  cross  paths  again  ??  not  even  in  san  antonio  but  willow  peak  of  all  places.  it  certainly  feels  like  the  world  has  gotten  much  smaller  than  he  remembers.  “what  are  you  doing  here  ??  i  mean  …  it’s  good  to  see  you  too.  surprising,  but  yeah.”  romy’s  certain  he  sounds  like  an  idiot,  a  fish  floundering  out  of  water.�� it’s  then  romy  realizes  he’s  still  holding  onto  santiago’s  forearms  and  awkwardly  lets  go,  dropping  his  arms  to  his  side  as  he  takes  in  the  older  man  for  the  first  time  in  a  while.

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: la tostada amargada. 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲: wednesday, 6th of feb. 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿: @impvrities

The margarita burned going down, a slow smolder of citrus, but the heat that clawed up his throat a second later had nothing to do with the taste of jalapeño on his tongue. It was a small piece of the past, sauntering through the door. The past, threading through the crowded lunch rush like it belonged here.

The cough tore out of him, sudden and inelegant, sending a spray of golden liquid across the rim of his glass. His CFO startled, brows knitting together in something halfway between concern and irritation, but Santiago barely registered it. He was too busy hacking into his fist, shoulders jerking as he tried to force air back into his lungs. A sip of water didn’t help - if anything, it made the burn worse, a betrayal of relief that never came.

His pulse stuttered against the starched collar of his shirt, and he pressed the edge of his sleeve against his mouth, willing the heat in his chest to settle. He hadn't seen the man in years, not since he was still cutting his teeth on a fledgling empire. And yet, here they were.

Chicago had just gotten a hell of a lot smaller.

He muttered something half-formed to his associate - an excuse, a need for air - pushing back from the table with a steadiness that belied the way his stomach twisted. His chair scraped against the tile, loud enough to turn a few heads, but he barely noticed as his feet carried him towards the other.

And then - impact!

A raised tile on the floor caused him to fall towards, bumping straight into Romulus. Solid. Unmistakable. A collision of present and past. His body stopped before his mind did, his breath stalling in his throat. “ - Hey, Romy... good to see ya’.”

[theoryandahalf]

Can I just say how relieved I was to see them in the newest food theory? I was lowkey worried without Matt they wouldn't use the NC crew for live action shoots, but thankfully its still happening! Also I guess Lee just lives there now?

Seriously. Lee. Does Matt have you trapped in the basement? Buddy, blink twice if you need help!

[joey-madani]

🍷 + santiago!

Joey 📲 Santiago

Joey: want to hear a secret? 🤫 Joey: sometimes i think we should get to know each other really well all over again Joey: just for fun @santiagodeleons

[benj-hyun]

if they had good news, who would hear it first?

"Ricardo first, probably. I've known him since before I can remember. I think my parents hated it, because he was older, and he pulled me further away from the tether they tried to keep me on. But aside from that, he's also crashing at my place, so I see him first.

If he's away, then Laurel is my go-to. I can't say she's cared until more recently, but either way, she'd hear about it. Throw Santiago in there, he gets to hear all of my shit, good and bad."

@castellcnos @laureljacobs @santiagodeleons

[esmaxdemirci]

💭 + santiago!

"Props to him for not firing my lazy ass yet, honestly. And for putting up with my bullshit. He probably knows he'd be doing a disservice to his patrons if he fired me though because my face is so pretty."

@santiagodeleons

[bradley-banner]

santiago 🍻 + “ what scares you more than anything ?”

She sighs, her bare back pressed up against him as she sips from the glass of wine that had gone straight to her head ever since they'd taken the bottle to bed. How they'd fallen into this new entanglement she'd never truly comprehend and each passing moment of contact made it more tiring to work out what she really wanted from it.

( just friends, just friends didn't sneak off to a cabin for a week. just friends didn't spend years of marriage, followed by years of heartbreak, just to end up somewhere at the beginning again, but with wounds that had never truly healed.)

"You can't ask me that." She hums back softly, her head turning to press her nose into the side of his cheek, warm breath blowing back on her as she exhales against his skin, the scent of him giving her that familiar safe feeling she'd had over the previous years.

She pulls her head away, turning it to stare back out in front of her, her focus steady upon the television that played quietly for background noise, the question still lingering in the back of her mind.

"— i guess." she begins, swallowing. Raw feeling with him made her back straighten slightly, but she knew conversations were going to come up, it was inevitable given that her day was made marginally better when a notification came through from him.

"I'm scared that we're going to leave here in a few days, go our separate ways, and I'm never going to be able to feel the way that I know I can feel because I'm never going to know if any of it is real."

She shifts, pulling herself away from him, the sheets following her as she moves over to her side of the bed they'd chosen to share for the next few days, her head shaking at any attempt he gives to interject, she doesn't want to hear it. "It's late, we should get some sleep."

Conversation over, if she had anything to do with it.

@santiagodeleons.

[alcska]

closed @casareds / based.

"it's still you, y'know?" he admits, long fingers curling around a paper cup, expression suddenly serious. "i think it'll always be you."

[santiagodeleons]

👠

👠 — one step at a time! a headcanon about a time my muse had to learn to take things slowly and with patience.

"That would be when I learned to play the bodhrán after losing a bet to Murphy. Make no mistake, I'm in no way musically inclined or talented, which is exactly why he set the terms of that bet. But what I am is determined when I set my mind to it, so I taught myself and you could hear that loud and clear in the first few months. I'm surprised I didn't accidentally raise the dead."

"But I got better and I can hold my own at any trad session, if I do say so myself. Someone had be back up and help poor Murph out at every lock in after close when he thought everyone was chomping at the bit to hear him do The Rocky Road to Dublin. Again. Whack follol de dah!"

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ;  𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒃𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 …  ( 𝒓𝒆𝒅 )

[cricketcampbell]

ツ + santiago

CRICKET 📲 SANTIAGO: guess what!!! CRICKET 📲 SANTIAGO: i split the fucking e!!! CRICKET 📲 SANTIAGO: okay so maybe split isn't the right word CRICKET 📲 SANTIAGO: and maybe it's not exactly AT the e CRICKET 📲 SANTIAGO: and it took me 2 sips CRICKET 📲 SANTIAGO: but the fact that i can even take more than 1 sip of it is progress CRICKET 📲 SANTIAGO: i'm starting to think this is a myth and ur just fucking with me CRICKET 📲 SANTIAGO: and that maybe i'm starting to like guinness??? 🫢

Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text.

@santiagodeleons

text meme.

[maura-cortes]

👫 + santiago

Santiago is my go to fuck up family member, I don’t mean that as is he’s the fuck up, I mean when I fuck up and need someone, he’s the one that offers solid advice and will just let me chill and wallow in self pity.

He started teaching me how to play poker before I even knew what poker was, I’m still not all that good at it because I can’t keep a straight face. Sometimes it works in my favour though because people don't know if I have a great hand, or a terrible one, they're just always suspicious.... On second thoughts, I guess that makes me a great poker player.

Four Leaf is like a second home, I think my uncle likes collecting strays, I spend way too much time there, so much so that I sometimes think I’m annoying him. I should probably just ask for a job and get paid for it, but I know I’m a terrible employee and I don’t want to put him in that position.

Half of our interactions are me just sending him cashapp requests and hoping he pays them without questioning it too much. (and if he doesn't pay up Ben will.) ( @benj-hyun )

( @santiagodeleons )

[roman-han]

who: @reina-santiago where: tonopah valley medical center when: immediately following the chaos at the fire & ice gala

Rafael had done his fair share of stitching up. Himself, members of his unit, members of his team. Sometimes it was out of necessity, in the middle of hostile territory; sometimes out of convenience, knowing it wasn't serious and not wanting to fill out all the paperwork. Maybe, sometimes, it was out of a little self punishment. Regardless, he had done it, but tonight wasn't one of those nights. --- Running against a crowd all heading for the doors wasn't an easy task, and Raf had paid the price for it with a well placed shove that sent him careening backwards. Back of head, meet corner of bar.

God he was pissed. Not only had he missed his chance of going after the bastards, but after some initial probing of the injury after he regained consciousness, he knew it wasn't something he could handle himself. While he didn't feel any fractures...He knew between the loss of consciousness, the blurriness of his vision, and the split scalp lac pumping red down the back of his head and onto his white dress shirt, he'd be spending the night in the ER.

One awkward taxi ride and a concerned looking triage nurse later, Rafael found himself waiting in a deeply uncomfortable ER bed, eyes making constant sweeps of his surroundings. The events of the night had left him on edge, but not for the reasons most would be. He was suspicious at the use of non-lethal force, and having the experience he possessed, despite this not being one of the hostile countries he had been sent to in 'service' to his country, he worried of secondary attack, once people had congregated at the hospital.

He flinched almost imperceptibly as a nurse made a targeted stop at his bedside, his fingers for a split second reaching for his gun, strapped to his ankle. --- He blamed the blurriness of his vision on the inkling of familiarity he felt as he took in her face, knowing the chances of him recognizing anyone in Tonopah Valley as slim to none.