#Gabriel Roa

[gabrielokun]

[bunnyreaper]

the sinners saints

pairing - gabriel reyes x f!reader

wc -  1.2k

warnings - 18+/nsfw, mentions of anal

notes - a little gabe halloween fic? as a treat? miss you papi ♥

"I won the bet, you wear my costume. That was the agreement!" You remind Gabriel of his promise as you wrap the blindfold around his eyes at the perfect time to hide your shit-eating grin.

Gabriel loved Halloween, and had planned on attending this year's party in one of his usual ghoulish and elaborate costumes.

While you appreciated the effort and passion he had for them, you couldn't help but feel they always had one common flaw—too much fabric, not at all revealing.

This year, you decided to take matters into your own hands—luring the man into a bet in the hopes that you'd get your own way.

If he won, he could choose a costume for you. He insisted on something similarly elaborate and grotesque to his, a contrast to your usually revealing and cutesy Halloween looks. 

But you had won the bet, and you planned on converting Gabriel to the dark side of barely-there outfits with cute accessories to match.

With the blindfold secured, you get to work.

You both had freshly showered, and Gabriel lounged in his towel as you worked on your makeup and styled your hair. 

The only remaining step was the outfits—which you also decided would be matching, much to Gabriel's chagrin. Gabriel had grumbled too at the idea of you selecting his costume, a surprise no less, but you insisted on physically dressing him so that you could reveal the outfit dramatically. 

A part of you hoped that once he saw it on himself, he'd actually be convinced. 

You pull your own outfit on first, humming happily as you dress and undoubtedly rile him up as you take your time and leave him blinded and waiting. His impatience is easy to spot in his tightened jaw and furrowed brow.

Pulling each piece on quickly, you check yourself over to make sure the outfit is okay for now—as you resolve to make it perfect once you've finished dressing Gabriel and done your reveal.

Returning to his side, you pull off the towel that's slung low on his hips and let it drop to the floor. It's hard to not get distracted as you stare at his naked form, but you're on a mission, so you shake the thoughts away as you grab his boxers and get to work.

"Underwear first." You comment gleefully, allowing him to support himself as you pull the fabric up his legs. Even this part requires the blindfold, as you worried the color of them might give him some hints.

"Hmm." You appraise what to put on next and decide on the main part of the outfit. 

Once more, Gabriel supports himself as you pull up the flowy material that feels like shorts to him. When the elastic is settled perfectly on his waist, you grab the excess fabric and tie it neatly across his left shoulder. 

He hums, and from the purse of his lips, you can see he's already trying to figure it out, brain kicking into overdrive.

You quickly move to his feet, helping him into the sandals and securing them around his thick calves. The arm bracers are next, before the headpiece is nestled into his hair. 

"If I'm Julius Ceaser—" He grumbles, but you cut him off before he can speak any further. 

"Shush. No guessing." You say as you fiddle with the outfit and make sure everything rests on him perfectly.

With one final item, you pull his arms through the straps and settle the accessory on his back before you step away to admit your handiwork. 

"You look perfect." You squeal happily, before you march him over in front of the mirror, though facing you first.

The two of you look great together in the outfits—a yin and yang to the composition you've created—but his tan skin looks perfect wrapped in shades of white and gold. 

"Ready?" You ask, your hand coming up to fiddle with the fabric obscuring his vision.

"No." He answers dryly, brows knitted together. You know he's convinced you're going to make a mockery of him. 

You drop the blindfold, and watch his reaction intently as his eyes roam over the outfit. They start at the killer heels adorning your feet, tracing up the fishnets to the skin-tight black dress, then to the ashen wings and the horns sitting atop your head.

His eyes turn as dark as night, as he clearly appreciates your devilishly alluring look. 

You're quick to turn him before the lightbulb moment can hit, and he finally gets a look at himself in the sexy angel outfit you picked out just for him.

His toned legs are completely on show—his huge arms and broad chest revealed by the garment too. The golden halo sparkles in his brunette locks. 

Regardless of what Gabriel thinks, you're practically drooling. He doesn't just look sexy, he looks ethereal—exactly as you'd intended. 

For a moment he looks at himself in wonder, and the expression only adds to his beauty. 

"I hate you." He comments, yet there's no venom to his words at all.

"No, you don't." You lean up to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, smiling widely. "I just thought you should live up to your name."

He might not think of himself as an angel, but he's still your angel. "Do you really not like it?" You ask, as you know he would have protested had he known in advance. 

"I look good, actually." He smirks, flexing his exposed shoulders slightly. 

You continue to embrace him while checking him out in the mirror, your eyes trailing over his reflection. "That would've been true no matter what, but it really does look good on you." 

You lean up further, getting even closer so that you can whisper filthy shit in Gabriel's ear. "Thought it'd be nice to turn the tables for once, have me be the one that corrupts you." 

His arm slips around your waist, gripping at the curves of your hips as he smirks. "Is that what you think, mi pequeño diablo?" 

"I think I can tempt you into some naughty things." You giggle, throwing him a wink.

"I'm sure there's nothing you can throw at me that I haven't already imagined doing to you." He purrs, his voice dropping low. 

"Hmm, 'imagined', I have no doubt, but maybe the devil can finally lead you into temptation and sin." You chuckle, purposefully brushing your lips across the shell of his ear. 

"You look incredible, by the way." His hand tightens, moving down to grip at your ass. 

"Thank you." You purr, feeling a sense of satisfaction, as Gabriel's hand moving lower gives you the chance to reveal your secret. 

"Speaking of sin..." You guide his hand below the stretchy fabric, past the barely there g-string to the butt plug nestled in your ass. 

Gabriel's eyes grow stormy, his grip on your cheek so tight it starts to hurt.

"I might be named after an angel, hermosa, but we both know I'm anything but." His voice sends shivers through you, as you know you've stoked a fire deep within him.

"Once we're done with the party, I'm gonna split that ass open on my cock and show you who the real devil is." 

taglist:

@simonrillleyyysss @ivymarquis @msdrpreist

want to be tagged? click here! want to be untagged? dm me or comment, i won’t be offended ♥

[kaelio]

so hey Lestat. We don't often talk about this, I guess Gabrielle mentioned it one time. But actually you are really doing mentally really bad here. You are doing real bad.

(Prince Lestat ROA)

[licncourt]

hello yes i just read your underrated vc moments list and i was wondering -- well begging really -- if you have any more to share. c :

Oh sure yeah!! I first made that post in like 2021 and over time more people have started talking about some of the stuff on there which makes me very happy. Most of the things I can think of to add have also popped up around the fandom over the past couple years, but I can definitely talk about more stuff I find very funny

Lestat has emails printed out and hand delivered to him because he can't use his gmail account

Louis being mad as hell about refined sugar

Gabrielle gangbang fantasy

Lestat all leather suit + purple turtleneck

Armand wears carpenter pants and double denim

Louis solves the RoA plot conflict with alchemical vampire string theory

Derek Two and the breastfeeding hand

Viktor is not just Lestat’s son but his clone

Pandora makes Marius put his limp marble dick into her for funsies I guess

Lestat sits on the floor because the furniture is for humans

Santino is possibly the only vampire with chest hair

The devil mails Lestat his stolen eyeball

Louis has a fourth pyromania incident where he burns down a Catholic school

Human buffet in the château basement

Lestat’s pet human servants that he keeps in what is essentially a town sized habitat

[prensabolivariana]

Por: Equipo Editorial Sitio Fidel Soldado de las Ideas Un líder, un iluminado, un revolucionario, un curioso de la vida, humanista, intelectual, guerrillero, gran escritor, de una fortaleza verdaderamente excepcional. Estas son algunas de las cualidades con las que definieron a Fidel Castro Ruz tres hombres que tuvieron la oportunidad de conocerlo: Frei Betto, Roberto Fernández Retamar y Miguel Barnet. En vísperas de conmemorar el 98 Aniversario de su Natalicio el próximo 13 de agosto, Cubadebate y el Sitio Fidel Soldado de las Ideas rendirán tributo al Comandante a través de los testimonios de aquellos que compartieron momentos con él. Un iluminado Fidel era un hombre con una gran curiosidad en la vida, sobre todo por la historia. Él leía una novela y, por muy buena que fuera la dramaturgia o la psicología de las personas, lo que más le interesaba era el trasfondo histórico, por eso admiró tanto a los escritores Alejo Carpentier, Ernest Hemingway y Gabriel García Márquez. Fue un fanático de las biografías, leyó las de María Antonieta, Napoleón y Alejandro Magno. Era un conocedor cabal de la historia antigua. Fíjate que cuando estuvo preso en Isla de Pinos, tras el asalto al Moncada, le decía a su hermana Lidia que no le mandara ropas ni corbatas, sino libros. Era además un humanista que rechazaba la politiquería. En aquellos años en que se inició en la lucha, la política en Cuba era politiquería. Muy pocos eran los hombres dignos en los años cuarenta y cincuenta, con excepción de don Fernando Ortiz, Raúl Roa, Jorge Mañach, el rector Clemente Inclán y unos cuantos profesores universitarios, pero ellos vivían encerrados en sus casas o haciendo su obra personal. Sin embargo, Fidel salió a las emisoras de radio, a las calles, a los campos. Fidel era, por sobre todas las cosas, un iluminado con una vocación humanista, y ese humanismo lo llevó inexorablemente a la política, pues donde lo podía practicar no era en una escuelita, sino en la vida pública; y como él tenía esa vocación y una mente tan ecuménica, con un calado tan hondo y una visión planetaria, tenía que entrar a la política. Allí se iba a sentir cómodo, pues encontraría herramientas con qué solucionar los problemas sociales. En los años finales de su vida, Fidel pudo satisfacer una de sus grandes vocaciones: ser escritor. Sus reflexiones son verdaderos ensayos políticos en los que se aprecia un gran conocimiento de la realidad, una prosa limpia, siempre aguda. No le encuentras nada que sobre, tampoco que falte, todo está cincelado, como lo hubiera hecho un gran escritor. Si él no hubiera tenido ese poderoso impulso y deseo de ayudar a los demás, de identificarse con los pobres de la tierra, como dijo José Martí, hubiera sido un escritor de gabinete, un escritor de novelas históricas. Pero no nos perdimos un escritor, ganamos un iluminado, un gran político, el hombre que cambió el destino de América Latina en el siglo xx. No hay otro. Él fue el primero. Un fragmento de las palabras de Miguel Barnet durante una entrevista concedida a Wilmer Rodríguez en noviembre del 2020. El don revolucionario de Fidel Con el Comandante en Jefe murió el último gran líder político del siglo xx, con la excepción de que es el único que sobrevivió 57 años a su propia obra: la Revolución Cubana. Pero se debe distinguir que no fue Fidel quien hizo la Revolución, sino el pueblo. Él dio las orientaciones básicas, fue punto de referencia, pero un hombre solo no hace una revolución, las revoluciones las hacen los pueblos. Ahí está la responsabilidad de los cubanos a partir de ahora. Un legado que Fidel dejó, sobre todo a los jóvenes, es mantener el socialismo como una sociedad de libertad, justicia y paz, donde se comparten bienes materiales y espirituales. De ninguna manera podemos mirar en Fidel un ser del pasado, sino del porvenir, así mismo él miraba a Martí. Cuando murió hice una oración agradeciéndole a Dios el don de la vida revolucionaria de Fidel. Un fragmento de las ...

[hekateinhell]

The seven deadly sins! Please assign one to Lestat, Louis, Armand, Daniel 🤓

These are not concrete by any means, I just went with my first superficial thought but I'm pretty sure every sin could be applied to each of them in different contexts.

Lestat — Pride

A large part of what keeps him from being vulnerable with those he loves is his pride.

Lestat, on the distance he feels from Gabrielle after they left France:

She must have known what was happening, that we were growing ever farther apart, that my heart was breaking and I had too much pride to say it to her. (TVL)

Lestat, on never being able to listen to other people:

Why didn't I learn from any of them-Gabrielle, Armand, Marius? But then, I never have listened to anyone, really. Somehow or other, I never can. (TVL)

Lestat, on love:

[...] the sheer excitement was excruciating, and the love I felt for him [Louis] was positively humiliating. (TVL)

Lestat, on expressing his love out loud:

And I wanted to call to him [Armand], to tell him that it was a lie I'd spoken to him, that I did love him. I did. But it was my time to be at peace with all things. (TVL)

I took a deep breath and looked away from him [Louis], wishing I could say what I really wanted to say. That I loved him. But I couldn't do that. The feeling was too strong. (TVL)

I wanted to say we all love one another. We all have to love one another. If you [Armand] and I and Louis don’t love one another after all we’ve been through, well, then all our powers mean nothing, and our dreams mean nothing, and so we have to love one another. And maybe I did say this silently and he heard it, but I doubted it. (RoA)

That's enough of Lestat, I'm getting cranky. He could've also been Lust.

Louis — Sloth

Just thinking about him makes me lazy so I'm not going to dig up quotes to justify this. But I don't think Louis has accepted a lot of agency in his life and he doesn't seem to take accountability for his part in the things that happen to him. It has always been Lestat, Claudia, and Armand who have called the shots, more or less. Left his own devices, he sits in a rotting shack with disintegrating clothes.

Sloth.

And also mood, honestly.

Armand — Lust

I feel like Lust is too easy for Armand but the other sins of desire like Gluttony and Greed don't fit as well to me. I'm not necessarily thinking of lust in the carnal sense though it does apply to mortal Amadeo, Armand's relationship with a human Daniel, and the way he drinks from Lestat in TVA.

But rather an intense and covetous longing for love, passion, and connection that takes on many forms (some of them possessive and violent) and stops at nothing.

Lestat did famously call him "the embodiment of thirst itself" (derogatory) in TVL. But because Armand is blorbo, I also have to point out that Lestat later said in PL, "Armand's not without compassion, not without a heart."

Daniel — Lust

Like Armand, he could've also been another sin of desire, I was tempted to give him Greed for variation here but Greed is more for material possessions.

Just thinking about how desperately he wanted to be a vampire, that lust for eternal life before he ever met Armand that was then amplified tenfold and combined with a desire for Armand and his blood.

No, he had never been revolted by Armand, he [Daniel] had to admit it. What he had always felt was ravening and hopeless desire. (QotD)

[nerdlifecentralsblog]

Unknown Secrets [5] - repost

Summary: Crowley and Rowena work at keeping suspicions off of the reader’s back while the Hunters get close to nowhere in their searching. Y/n discovers a possible pattern that could lead to Asmodeus’ whereabouts and even more answers relating to her lineage.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, reader, Gabriel (mentioned), Castiel (mentioned), Mick, Ketch, Rowena, and Crowley

Pairing: everyone platonic

Genre: Angst, bit of fluff

Word Count: 3,800 :O

Warnings: n/a

A/N: Merry Christmas SPN Family!!!! I wasn’t planning on finishing this chapter until after Christmas but consider it an early gift from me to you. Hope y'all enjoy it and would love to hear your feedback! <33

I wake with a start and take a few calming breaths and look around the living room. “When did I even fall asleep?” I only hope today isn’t nearly as nerve-wracking as yesterday was, I should probably call Ketch and let him know I’m with my “experts” and that they’re working on solutions as we speak. But the very thought brings back anxiety.

“Good morning, y/n. Sleep well I assume?” A deep British voice says from behind me. I sit up on the couch and see Crowley standing with his cellphone in hand. “My mother had to run some errands and test some theories she has about helping you stay hidden.”

I nod and say, “You certainly like to sneak up on people, Crowley,” the demon pockets his phone and chuckles.

“What can I say, it’s a hobby of mine.” he winks and continues, “The Winchesters are probably getting antsy, I figured it would be a good idea to go and give the boys a visit. Let them know that you’re safe and all.”

I nod, thankful I don’t have to be the one to lie on the spot. “Thank you, Crowley. What exactly are you going to tell them?”

“Nothing far from the truth, darling,” he says, smirking, “that you came to my mother for help and she asked for my help as well. If they try to push any further, I can just call them morons for suspecting you.”

I can’t help but laugh, Crowley smiles at me and he suddenly disappears. “Does he just follow the Winchesters around or something?” Though I’m grateful he went to tell them in person, I still wish I could hear what was going on.

I hear the front door click and a pair of heels walk inside, the door closing behind them.

“Hey, Rowena,” I call from my spot still on her couch, “go on any wild adventures while you were out?”

She laughs, her red curls bouncing as she unloads bags from her arms onto a side table near one of her armchairs. “No adventures this time, just calling in a few favors and catching up with some fellow witches.”

I raise my eyebrows at her. She never talks with other witches after she was practically a laughing stock after trying to create her “Mega Coven”.

“But enough about me,” she says, placing her large purse on the same table from last night. She walks into her kitchen area and continues, “how did your chat with Arthur go last night? By the time I came back to check on you, you had fallen asleep.”

“Well, I still feel horrible lying to him, but I don’t think he suspects me.” I follow her through her house and take a seat nearby where she was working in the kitchen, making even more tea and humming in acknowledgment. “But now I don’t know how to keep this up, I mean, these people have been hunting their whole lives and are famous for being paranoid. And to add to it, I have a message from Sam asking how I’m doing and to call him when I get the chance.”

She sends a quick sideways glance in my direction but doesn’t respond. I don’t have any ideas and frankly, the silence is welcomed.

Unfortunately, the silence doesn’t last long as I hear my ringtone go off from the coffee table in front of me. I pick it up and see Sam’s contact light up. Rowena immediately gets up and stands behind me as I answer with shaky hands, unprepared to talk with the Hunters again.

“Hey, Y/n?” Sam asks, although it was a little hard to hear him.

“Yes?” I respond, “it’s a little hard to hear you, Sam, are you guys on the road or somewhere with choppy wifi?”

I hear him huff a tense laugh and vaguely hear Dean on the verge of yelling. “Yeah well we got a surprise visitor and Dean and Gabe aren’t exactly thrilled with his appearance.”

I groan in frustration, I’m sure that it’s Crowley bugging the hell out of them rather than actually explaining what’s going on. Of course he had to leave all the hard lying to me. “Put me on speaker, will you? It’s gonna be a lot easier to explain what’s going on if I can just talk to everyone all at once.”

“Sure thing,” he responds, “alright, Y/n, you’re on speaker.”

“Um, hey guys, how’s the search coming?” I say, my leg bouncing with nerves.

“Hello, Y/n,” Cas responds, sounding extremely tired. Probably from dealing with everyone arguing about who knows what. “We don’t have anything yet, only the information we already knew about lightning storms and other demon signs here.”

“Okay, and what was all the shouting about?” Their end of the line went silent, “I’m assuming it has something to do with Crowley being there.”

“And how exactly did you know that?” I hear Dean say, I think he moved closer to the phone because his voice is much clearer than before. “You send him here or something?”

I roll my eyes even though the only person who can see it is Rowena. She chuckles and leans over me to speak into my phone, “You really think my son listens to anyone but himself, Dean?” She gives me a small wink and leans back indicating that’s all she wanted to say for now, placing my phone back on my lap as I hear Dean mutter something on the other line. I know Mick and Ketch have told me about Dean’s grumpiness, but it is insanely irritating to be trying to have a conversation with him while he’s in a mood.

“Wait, Rowena’s with you?” Sam asks incredulously, as someone slams the motel door. I can only assume it was Gabriel as I’m sure he wants nothing to do with demons and was already on edge with the Asmodeus situation.

I hear Crowley sigh loudly, I can just see his eyes rolling. I also hear someone’s footsteps walk toward the phone, “Helpful as ever, mother,” Crowley responds, “if you would all stop acting like morons for two minutes I could actually explain what’s going on here.” Now it’s my turn to sigh, if he’s gonna explain what’s happening then why the hell am I even here?

“No offense, Crowley, but I’d much rather hear what’s going on from y/n,” Mick speaks up, “I can’t speak for anyone else, but I am much more inclined to believe her.”

Crowley huffs and I can only imagine the eye roll Dean gave at his dramatics.

“If you insist, Mick, I would love to enlighten you, boys,” I say with a fake smile, hoping they could hear it in my tone and believe it is real. “I decided it wouldn’t be very smart to stay by myself if I really am sick or something else is going on, so I figured I should stay with some experts I know.” I pause looking up at Rowena, not really sure how I should word the rest of this. I’ve never been the best at lying so I decide to avoid a complete lie, though I know I can’t be entirely truthful without having a death wish. She nods in encouragement for me to continue. “Rowena and Crowley were kind enough to help me out and make sure I’m doing okay, I don’t know how long I’ll be with them but I’ll still be working to track any omens or look for possible patterns for you guys.”

I tentatively hold my breath, waiting for some kind of response. I hear the phone be picked up and I assume it is taken off of speaker since the connection becomes a bit clearer.

“Hey, y/n,” Mick says quietly. “I know this is scary for you, especially with Gabriel practically running you off of this case, but you know you can come to me or Ketch with anything right?”

My eyes begin tearing up hearing Mick talk so openly and kindly to me. I’ve certainly known him and Ketch the longest and I trust them both with my life. I can’t handle actively lying to them and not being able to come to them with my anxieties. Both of my boys calling me makes me realize how much harder coming clean is going to be; it’s not like I can drop off the face of the earth and disappear without anyone trying to look for me.

“Y/n? You still there, love?” Mick’s voice brings me back from my racing thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry I’m still here,” I respond, willing my voice to not crack. Turns out my willpower isn’t that strong as my voice is super quiet and breaks at the end of my sentence. I hear Mick sigh sadly on the other line as we sit in silence together for a moment.

Mick breaks the silence, empathy evident in his tone, “Are you safe? I know you are more than capable of handling yourself, but I want to make sure you’re also able to recover from this without driving yourself to a breaking point.”

I nod and respond, “Yeah, I’m safe here. I wish I could be there with you and Ketch but I know it’s best to stay away in case this is some kind of bug or something that can spread. I don’t want to get in your way.” I can tell my last comment upset him, even though I can only hear Mick I can vividly see his brows furrow in concern.

“Y/n, you don’t need to ever worry about being in the way. I can’t speak for the Winchesters or the bloody angels, but just know that both Ketch and I miss you, and he would really love a call from you when you feel up to it.”

I smile into the phone. The Brits aren’t really known for being endearing very often, but I know they are both making an effort to be available to me in their own ways.

“I’ll call him a bit later, I should really try and get some research done for you guys. Pretty sure the addition of Gabriel and my absence ruined any chance of there being brain cells left for you and Ketch to abuse.”

Mick chuckles quietly saying, “Alright, love, I won’t keep you any longer. Don’t forget to call and lend us that brain of yours.” He says teasingly.

I laugh and promise to catch up later, then I hang up on him. I didn’t even realize I had been crying until Rowena gently hands me a box of tissues and walks off to the kitchen. I hear her moving around, I realize she is making more tea as she places her tea kettle on the stovetop.

I decide I might as well start researching now so I can be sure to call Ketch later with more info on the surrounding towns. I have a feeling Asmodeus wouldn’t stray too far away from me without good reason to. From what other Hunters at my bar have been telling me over the past few months, nothing crazy or demonic has happened. Although no one around here knows what Princes of Hell are so there is always a possibility they simply weren’t seeing the signs.

Rowena walks back in and places two teacups and a kettle down on the coffee table in front of the couch and occupies the seat next to me as I grab my laptop out of my backpack. I smile as thanks to her and start up my computer.

I spend most of the day gathering as many weather reports from surrounding towns that date back to forty years ago and writing down any possible anomalies or patterns; since that is also when the lightning storms in Dubuque began. The only real breaks I take are when Rowena practically forces me to step away from my computer for some food, and most of our conversation is filled with what I’ve discovered.

Sometime in the afternoon, Crowley walks through the front door with a look of almost boredom on his face. “Hello, mother, y/n.”

Rowena waves and I respond, “Hey, Crowley, how did babysitting go?”

“Absolutely horrid. I honestly don’t understand how they can get anything done with the constant bickering.” I laugh at his exasperation. I was only with all of them for a day and it was pretty overwhelming. “I will say, the smartest thing they did was calling you.”

I shake my head trying not to laugh, “Did they make any progress on any leads?” I ask, hoping that they decided to pursue other possibilities other than the idea that I’m the nephidemon.

“Well, not really. They are still wasting time searching in Iowa for Asmodeus’s child,” oh no, they better not have done any other spellwork. Crowley softens his gaze, “don’t worry, they didn’t do anything magic-related. And anytime any of them tried to bring you up or suggest calling you again I tried to shoot down the idea.”

I sigh in relief. I know that if they tried to replicate Rowena’s previous spell it would only solidify in their minds that I’m the enemy right now. I can’t believe Crowley actively stuck up for me though, I know he said he would help but lying to that many powerful people and angels is extremely risky.

“Thank you, Crowley. I have another question though,” I really want to ask him if any demons he knows of are hanging around in the towns surrounding Dubuque.

“I am an open book, darling. What do you need to know?”

He responds. Rowena steps out gathering the teacups and kettle, giving me and Crowley the opportunity to have a little bit of privacy.

“Well,” I say, “I’ve been doing some research on the smaller cities surrounding Dubuque, and I’ve realized that every five years there have been regular lightning storms and even crop failures in the towns that grow enough crops to track that kinda thing.”

“Okay, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary, y/n. Crops fail all the time and electrical storms coming and going like that isn’t enough evidence.”

I hold my hand up at Crowley’s comment. He raises his eyebrows and moves to sit next to me on the couch, waving to continue my ideas. “That’s what I thought at first too, but here’s the thing, every five years on the same day the electrical storms and crop failures stop in one town and move to another. Five years later on the same day again they move to a third town. Wanna guess what happens five years from then?” Again I only receive an eyebrow raise and wave to continue, “It goes back to the first town. And, each of these towns are exactly four miles away from Dubuque.”

“That is very compelling, my dear, but how can you connect any of this back to Asmodeus?” Crowley asks sounding slightly impatient.

“That’s also what I was thinking, so I did some more research into Asmodeus himself, and turns out, he is the Fourth Prince of Hell.” Crowley’s eyes widen in surprise and recognition. “There’s one more thing,” I add, a bit hesitant as Crowley leans in interest sparking in his eyes. “The day Asmodeus switches towns is always on my birthday.” He leans back into the couch and lets out a puff of air.

“So what I’m hearing is that Asmodeus supposedly stayed in Dubuque for twenty years, had the nephidemon -” “You mean me.” I interrupt, but he narrows his eyes and continues, “then continued to stay in the towns exactly four miles from your town for what reason?”

I shake my head at his question. “Who knows why that demon does what he does, why bother trying to figure it out when we know the patterns of where he will be every year?” Rowena exclaims, her heels clicking against the floor as she struts into the room.

“That’s something that I’m sure Sam and Dean can overthink into creating a solution for us,” I suggest while grabbing my phone and searching for Ketch’s phone number. The phone rings twice before Ketch picks up.

“Hey, y/n! Feeling better I hope?” I can’t help but smile at Ketch’s warm greeting, though the warmth is quickly replaced with anxiety.

“Hey, Ketch. I’m feeling a little bit better, you sound a bit tired, are you okay?” I ask, partially to pass the conversation off of me but also in concern for him. It’s no secret that Hunters tend to keep emotions and worries holed up inside and the exhaustion lacing Ketch’s voice is concerning to me.

“I’m doing all right, love. Trying to ensure this town’s safety is all, plus,” he whispers, “you’re the only American I can deal with, and being practically holed up with these American Hunters is driving me a tad insane.”

I chuckle softly and he does the same. “Could you put me on speaker for a sec? I’ve been doing some research and I think I might have something.”

“You mean to say you didn’t call just to have a pleasant conversation with me?” I roll my eyes and wait for Ketch to do as I asked. “Alright, love, you’re on speaker now.”

“Okay, so as I just told Ketch I’ve been doing some digging and I think I might have found something demon-related.” I hear slight shuffling sounds coming from the phone, probably the boys grouping around the phone to hear me better. “Basically, my thought process was if we are thinking that Asmodeus stayed in Dubuque to try and throw off any suspicions that his future child would bring, he most likely isn’t still there.”

“Why do you say that?” Dean asks sounding unconvinced.

I sigh and reply, “Because it would be way too risky. A Prince of Hell and his kid hanging out in the same town for years? There’s no way Hunters around the country wouldn’t recognize the signs and go after them. Anyway, I was checking out the neighboring cities to see if any demon omens were happening and they are, in a very specific pattern too.” I paused taking a grounding breath, Crowley scoots a little closer, giving me some assurance as I continue to tell the Hunters on the phone about the cattle mutilations, electrical storms, and the small number of crop failures in three of the towns.

“How far are these towns again, y/n?” Sam asks.

“Oh yeah! Each town is exactly four miles from Dubuque.” It’s probably best to leave out what date these issues occur on, I’m trying to throw suspicion off of me and I doubt revealing my birthdate would truly do that.

“Even if it isn’t Asmodeus, I’ve been wanting to kick some demonic ass today,” Dean spoke up. I chuckle at his response, though I’m very grateful they are still willing to take care of my town while I’m not there.

“That’s not very nice of you to say. I might feel threatened.” Crowley butted in a playful smirk on his face.

“Y/n, can you take us off speaker for a second?” Mick asks, sounding a bit uncomfortable.

I look over to Crowley a bit confused, Mick never sounds like this and his tone is putting me on edge. “Um, yeah, one sec Mick.” I respond, Crowley rolls his eyes and gestures vaguely to himself as he scoots back to give me a bit of privacy.

“Y/n, love? You still there?” Mick says from the other line, I don’t know why he’s so worried and I’m also not sure if Ketch’s phone is off speaker yet.

“Hey, Mick. Um, why did you want to talk privately?” I question.

“Well, are you sure you’re safe there? I certainly trust that you can handle yourself, and there’s not a doubt in my mind that you’re working hard on this case with us, but I want to make sure you’re not in danger…” He trails off.

“If you’re asking about if I’m safe where I am geographically speaking then yes, I’m in one of the safest places I could think of. I am also with the safest experts I could think of other than you or Ketch.” I pause, hoping that Mick doesn’t worry as much about me. I want him and Ketch to focus on hunting Asmodeus and keep me completely out of their minds.

“If you say so, it’s just,” Mick pauses, a sigh leaving his lips, “you know me well, love. I don’t trust easily and I certainly don’t trust demons. So, if you’re feeling up for it, I know that I would feel better with you here. Even if you stay at your home or here at the hotel all day, simply knowing you’re nearby would greatly ease my conscience.”

I drop my head and try to come up with lies or excuses as to why I can’t go back yet, I’m not ready, and what happens if Castiel or Gabriel try to use angel powers and check up on me or something? What if they find out that I’m a monster?

“I know you might not be ready yet, but just know that I’m here if you want to talk through anything.” Mick brings me out of my panicked thoughts. I’m very grateful that he has given me some time to decide.

“Well, I’ll definitely need some time to decide, I would love to be back with you guys and work the case. But I have to be certain I won’t pass out again or cause for you guys to waste more time on me when we need to focus entirely on hunting down Asmodeus and getting some answers.”

“I understand, y/n. Just, take care of yourself and give me a call tomorrow, okay?” I nod.

“I will, Mick. I love you and Ketch for looking out for me, make sure you’re both taking care of yourselves, okay?” Like most Hunters, when the Brits are on a tough case they tend to forfeit sleep and mental health until the monster is dead and people are safe.

He huffs a laugh, “We’ll try our best, love. You keep resting and get your strength up and call us whenever you’ve decided.”

I promise to call tomorrow and hang up with one last goodbye to Mick before he hangs up. Although I am terrified of the idea of being surrounded by these relentless Hunters, I know the situation can also get so much worse if they become suspicious of me while I’m staying with Rowena. I can’t let her earn more enemies because she chose to help me, it’s time to finally face the music.

[dnickels]

Neither Gabriel García Márquez nor Mario Vargas Llosa had yet been born when the Guatemalan Miguel Ángel Asturias began to write his first novel, El Señor Presidente, in December 1922. He labored on it for a decade while living in self-imposed exile in Paris, then returned home when the Great Depression left him strapped for money, only to find that his work was unpublishable because the dictator whose reign it portrayed had given way to an even more cruel and oppressive one. When he finally self-published the novel in Mexico in 1946, it was riddled with typographical errors, and a definitive edition did not appear until 1952.

From the beginning, then, El Señor Presidente has been star-crossed. But it also ranks as one of the most important and influential works of modern Latin American literature, a kind of urtext for the celebrated generation of novelists that followed Asturias and gained global recognition in the 1960s and 1970s as members of “El Boom”: García Márquez, Vargas Llosa, Carlos Fuentes, José Donoso, Guillermo Cabrera Infante, Julio Cortázar, Augusto Roa Bastos, and several others.

[brevefantasmagoria]

Hoy inicia temporada Había una vez, una honesta obra escrita, dirigida y protagonizada por Adriana Romero (@adrianaromeroh) en la que, acompañada en escena por Édgar Durán Jr (@ed7djr), nos habla sobre el viaje que es la vida, con sus incertidumbres, alegrías, tristezas, traiciones y desencantos y sobre ese equipaje que todos y todas cargamos y que en muchas ocasiones sería mejor soltar. Adriana reflexiona, con la excusa narrativa de estar atrapada en un aeropuerto, sobre la familia, el amor, el sexo, la feminidad, el ser mujer, ser madre, ser hija, el viaje, la espera y la Barbie, llevando a la audiencia a momentos altamente emotivos y a preguntarse por su propio viaje, por su propio equipaje y por esas cosas que cada persona sabe debe soltar para seguir adelante. Había una vez es, sobre todo, una celebración de Adriana a su propia fuerza, a la capacidad que tenemos de seguir adelante y recomponer la vida, de crear, de superar el dolor y, ante todo, de elegir siempre el amor.

Durante las últimas semanas tuve la oportunidad de trabajar con Adriana y el resto del equipo en la realización de unos videos que hacen parte del montaje y de la emotiva exploración de la relación de Adriana con su familia, su madre, sus hijas, su padre y con tanta gente que ha hecho parte de su viaje personal y que está prensente en la obra.

Les recomiendo mucho que vayan a verla, se van a emocionar, a reír y a llorar. La temporada va hasta el 1 de junio en @estudiodelapina y las entrradas se consiguen en Eticket.

Había una vez cuenta, además, con la producción de mi muy querida Viviana Sierra (@vivitamsr), una aliada creativa envidiable para cuallquiera, la asistencia de dirección de Miguel Dávila (@irrelevanciasexistenciales), la coreografía de Arnulfo Pardo (@pardoravagli), la dirección de arte de Felipe Meneses (@felomeneses), la fotografía de Juan Pablo Roa (@12.12.12.12.12.12i) y el video de Gabriel Muelle.

[gabrielokun]

[parajorgecamilo]

---------- 

ficha#2024 septiembre revisión de 2017 ParaJCamilo-AGRADECIMIENTOS & DEDICATORIA Dic.08'2017

REVISAR

---------- 

AGRADECIMIENTOS

A Wikipedia
, ...

A Carlos Eduardo Martínez Villamizar, por su cariñoso apoyo, entusiasmo, nuestras entrevistas, datos y fotografías


Al Pbro. Hernando Barón Plata, por entrevistas telefónicas y en persona


A mi primo segundo Antonio María Ángel (con “g”) Junguito


Al genealogista Fernando Restrepo Uribe

Al genealogista de la Familia Barreto, periodista politico y tambien pariente Ricardo Puentes Melo

A mi amado sobrino, y sobrino de Jorge Camilo en cuarto grado, Arq. Eduardo Vásquez-Amstrong Torres, quien con amor me ha provisto de interesantes fotografías en relación con Jorge Camilo y su familia inmediata en el contexto de la Universidad Nacional; ha también desarrollado para el libro unos diagramas de nuestra genealogía compartida con Jorge Camilo.

A mis primas hermanas Genoveva Ánjel Silva y Clara Inés Ángel (con “g”) Casas por su apoyo y facilitación de entrevistas…

       A Hernando Roa Suárez por su guía en bibliografía sobre el tema y por una entrevista informativa; y a Jorge Ladrón de Guevara O... por su sagaces preguntas.

Al sicólogo Nicolás Herrera del Colectivo [ahora rebautizado como Fundación Colectivo] Frente Unido[*
]

[*]Enorme generosidad del Colectivo Frente Unido, importantísima fuente de información, gracias, sobre Jorge Camilo Torres Restrepo: dice así el Colectivo

[ahora rebautizado como Fundación Colectivo] Frente Unido,

...en su "site" de Facebook, el 25 de Noviembre de 2013: 
«Colectivo Frente Unido.  

José Darío Arévalo [sic] las fotos que aquí se ponen muchas son conocidas, algunas las hemos conseguidos [sic] nosotros en un proceso de recuperación de archivos que si las hemos posteado [sic] a través de este medio es para que se multipliquen y sean usadas por todos y todas en los espacios que quieran. Así que entre más se multiplique Camilo, mucho mejor!».

DEDICATORIA

A Jorge Camilo Torres Restrepo mismo


A Gerda[1] Westendorp Restrepo, su hermana

mayor, a quien Jorge Camilo apodaba Mamayita


    A Edgard Westendorp, su hermano, a quien Jorge Camilo apodaba Papayito

A Eduardo Umaña Luna, su pariente y amigo


A Orlando Fals Borda, su colega y coautor


A Gabriel García Márquez, su compañero de estudios en la universidad


A María Arango Fonnegra, su discípula y amiga, y en su tiempo Reina de la Universidad Nacional


A Álvaro Camacho Guisado, su discípulo y colega


A Marsha Wilkie Calderón, su alumna, colega y reina de las Facultades de Sociología y Medicina Veterinaria


A la Universidad Nacional de Colombia, “La Nacional”, que dió, y vió y recibió en su seno a cada una y uno de estas y estos y derramó en ellas y ellos, sus hijas e hijos favoritos, lo mejor de sí misma. Para fortuna suya estas características y Universidad acogen a quien esto escribe.
La palabra universidad viene de universo….

_________________________

[1] Usaremos el nombre Gerda, aunque a veces se encontro como Guerda. El criterio que primó es que Gerda fue usado por doña Gerda misma en la autoría de sus muchos trabajos académicos como traductora professional y profesora de la Universidad Nacional de Colombia. Técnicamente Jorge Camilo con Gerda y Edgard eran medio-hermanos pero, como en mi caso con mis hermanos y hermana, ninguno de ellos jamás usó semejante diferenciación.

--

Manuel J. Torres-Anjel DVM PhD

CHI™,  CoreCHI™

​CERTIFIED HEALTHCARE (Medical) INTERPRETER™

CORE CERTIFICATION HEALTHCARE (Medical) INTERPRETER™

CCHI ID: 004404

TManning Writer & Co., LLC

Escritor Ejecutivo Jefe, Interprete/Traductor

tmanningescritoresco@gmail.com

[paulasilvaaa]

Boom Latino Americano

La década de los años 60 y 70 supusieron un gran convulso en Latinoamérica, con movimientos enfrentados como la Revolución Cubana o la dictadura chilena de Pinochet. Esta situación política tuvo su respuesta a nivel literario con el denominado boom latinoamericano, un movimiento que supuso una ruptura e innovación, y situó la literatura latinoamericana como un referente a nivel mundial.

El boom latinoamericano no se considera una corriente cultural ni una generación, sino un fenómeno editorial centrado principalmente en la novela que permitió dar a conocer a autores hispanoamericanos más allá de sus países, convirtiéndose en referentes literarios tanto en la época en la que vivieron como décadas después. Estos escritores, influenciados por los movimientos de vanguardia de Europa, supieron readaptarlos a su realidad cultural, social y política para crear una literatura con unas características propias.

Respecto a la primera obra que marcaría el inicio del boom latinoamericano no existe unanimidad; algunos críticos consideran que es Rayuela (1963) de Julio Cortázar, y otros La ciudad y los perros de Mario Vargas Llosas, publicada en el mismo año. Otros se remontan a 1959 con Hijo de hombre de Augusto Roa Bastos.

Características del boom latinoamericano Entre las características más destacables del boom latinoamericano, señalar:

Escenarios americanos. La búsqueda de una identidad propia hace que los autores ambienten sus historias en escenarios característicos de sus países, incorporando sus paisajes, mitos, tradiciones… Así, se entremezcla el relato histórico con la ficción, con historias que relatan las condiciones políticas y sociales del momento.

Influencias. La vanguardia europea, de la que surgieron movimientos como el surrealismo (con autores como Andre Breton), el dadaísmo (Tristán Tzara) o el expresionismo (Bertolt Brecht), es una de las influencias de la literatura del boom latinoamericano. Entre los autores hispanoamericanos que también influyeron en este movimiento citar a Rubén Darío, José Martí, Jorge Luis Borges y Juan Rulfo. A ello hay que sumarle el realismo mágico, inaugurado con Cien años de soledad de Gabriel García Márquez (publicado en 1967), en el que realidad y ficción se entremezclan.

Equipo editorial, E. (2023, January 24). Boom Latinoamericano: Origen, Características y Autores. Enciclopedia Humanidades. https://humanidades.com/boom-latinoamericano/

[sideralcarrion]

Persas FC en la Kings League

El Perú estará presente en la anunciada Kings League Américas y la expectativa es grande por conocer cómo será la performance del representativo patrio en ese importante evento.

La propia Kings League confirmó que Perú tendrá representación en la versión americana del torneo con el equipo Persas FC, el cual será liderado por Zeein, reconocido youtuber y streamer nacional.

Serán en total 12 equipos los que formarán parte de la Kings League Américas. Y como se trata de un certamen de fama internacional, entre sus competidores habrá presencia importante, como la del futbolista colombiano James Rodríguez.

Su equipo será Pelicanger y representará a Colombia.

Otro jugador de talla internacional que participará en el evento es Javier ‘Chicharito’ Hernández, quien actuará en el equipo Olimpo United, en representación de México.

Los equipos participantes son:

Persas FC - Zeein (Perú)

Raniza FC - Barcagamer & Alana (Uruguay y México)

Muchachos FC - Jero Freixas (Argentina)

Club de Cuervos - Mercedes Roa (México)

Atlético Parceros FC - Pelicanger y James Rodríguez (Colombia)

Olimpo United - Javier ‘Chicharito’ Hernández (México)

West Santos FC - WestCol y Arcángel (Colombia, Puerto Rico)

Peluche Caligari - Alex & Gabriel Montiel (México)

Los Aliens 1021 - Castro (Estados Unidos)

Los Chamos FC - TheDonato (Venezuela)

Real Titán - Germán Garmendia (Chile)

Galácticos del Caribe - Los futbolitos & Alofoke (República Dominicana)

[sassyduckqueen]

So this is what R.O.A Hawkmoth actually looks like. I didn't intend to change the design but my friend @naruwitch actually pointed out to me that I've never actually described him even during heroes day so I thought why not. I hate Canon!Hawkmoth's look anyway and this works with the shadow moth design I did.

Anyway I'll put a snippet of Luka's thoughts on this at some point.

Random fact about Gabriel's tailcoat. The design on it is the pattern of a Death's head Hawkmoth

[nana-writes]

What confuses your characters?

      Aeleine WIP [wip page, mobile-friendly, wip tag ]aeleine: genuine, selfless kindnessblight: everything xDmicah: selfless love; to be loved without being asked for anythinglilis: micah’s seemingly endless ability to forgive others and believe in them, regardless of what they show him; his attitude around this will help Lilis a lot with their own growth as a charactergabriel: same as Lilis, to be honest.faeir: the fact aeleine cares/comes to care about keeping anyone else around, and curbs her actions in order to do so. For Faeir, Aeleine and them are absolutely right in their cause and as such their actions are justified, and they won’t budge on this point.

      Folklore WIP [ wip page, mobile-friendly, wip tag, (co-author) ]nina: hoarding of knowledge. She believes knowledge should be fully accessible and does not understand why anyone would like to make it not solor: the fact that you don’t always have to be solely self-reliant, or taking care of your loved ones.temper: love and acceptance; people approaching him with the intent to befriend. (by Yves; yes, we have some *sad* characters oh dear)eliana: nina.roa: thinking :P for real now, he is very much an instincts ‘person’

[hekateinhell]

“They promised, and atm they're getting hammered at Lestat's house (Gabrielle isn't around) and discussing Armand's virginity.” Here, my firstborn 🤱 LOVE everything about this insane premise that makes perfect sense. Those two imbeciles getting hammered and talking about sex and trying to FaceTime Louis while he’s having dinner at some high end restaurant with his conservative family in New Orleans. Louis starts panicking when he hears them slur the words “dare”, “tattoos”, “prove our love to you” and has to excuse himself from the table. As for the tattoo themselves, I’m on board with the initials but perhaps they’d want to get something that reminded them of Louis? And then have Louis see what they chose and based on his reaction, pick the winner. No idea what those things could be though, only wet cats come to mind 😞 “And then they bond and double-team Armand.” The only natural conclusion of course. Armand will go on and save the lives of 10 patients on a single night after that experience. “I think about them in canon a lot too, I feel like there's a fair bit of Lestat's personality mirrored in Daniel”, yesss and I’ve always thought he was probably amused and secretly proud of Armand for having found himself a mini-brat prince for a boyfriend. Lestat/Daniel the unsung brotp of VC 🤜🤛

I just woke up and realize I left off where Louis's FaceTiming them back like, "I'm glad you two are getting along, I guess?" Which I feel was also the energy in the RoA phone call scene (Louis out there doing his best to make his two guys get along <3).

"Wet cat" sent me! 😭 I think I have a decent tattoo idea now though, it's been a very productive Sunday already.

Irrelevant side note: I think of Loustat as Pepe Le Pew (Lestat) and the little cat that keeps trying to get away from him (Louis). Nobody @ me, you know I'm right.

Daniel and Lestat are simply doing what they have to maximize their hospital's life-saving efficiency. Now more than ever, since we've decided Armand's a ✨trauma✨ surgeon. Stress level = unmatched.

You know, it's funny because I once got an ask to the effect of "How do you think Armand would feel if Lestat drank from Daniel, since he never drank from Armand?" and my answer was, "He'd probably be proud and a little happy some part of him is inside Lestat." 😌

But on a more serious note... I always thought one of the many reason Daniel appealed to Armand was because he reminded Armand of himself as a mortal. And I also always thought human Armand and Lestat would've gotten along so well because aside from their personalities, they have so stuff in common regarding their early life experiences (religion, abuse, etc.).

Daniel, the Mini Brat Prince though. DA, please... I'm shaking. 🥹💕 (I can never forget it's actually Lestat who wrote Devil's Minion in-universe. Makes it that much better).