#Three Rancheros

[earnestlyeccentric]

Raymie Nightingale (Three Rancheros #1)

Author: Kate DiCamillo Rating: 3/5 All Raymie Clarke wants is to win the Little Miss Central Florida Tire pageant so that she can get her father’s attention back. She realises there are more important things in life. Spoilers ahead. Continue reading Raymie Nightingale (Three Rancheros #1)

[lokischocolatefountain]

Seven

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: Gen (kind of a crack fic if you ask me)

Summary: You and Javi discuss children

“How many?”

“Hmm?”

“You keep saying children plural. How many do you want?” You asked, flipping through the pages of the magazine idly. You weren’t even reading, just looking at pictures and reading a gossipy headline about some of the other actress.

“Hmmm seven?”

“Fuck no!”

“Why not?”

“Why not? WHY NOT?” You asked, horrified. “Javier, I’m a human being, not a baby making machine. You have a government job and I’m just a lab tech. We will never have 7 kids money unless you pocket some of the cocaine you seize. God, can you imagine if they all wanted to go to law school? Or medical school?”

“I wasn’t thinking that far ahead,” he said, taking the magazine from you and setting it aside. He pulled you into his lap, kissing you neck from behind and making you squirm. “I was focused on how hot you’ll look pregnant.”

“Of course you were. Horndog,” you scolded, pinching the arm that held you close. He hissed, but didn’t loosen his hold, only pulling you in closer.

“Can you blame me? With such a hot girlfriend, a man is bound to let his imagination run wild.”

“Shut up.”

“Five?” He asked, making you angrier.

“Are you trying to have a family or form a basketball team?”

He laughed before kissing her lips. “Four?” He bargained.

“Three is the absolute maximum for me.”

“Then three is good.”

“Yeah?” You asked, softer when you heard the sincerity in the reply that came with no hesitation.

“Mhmm.”

“But everything is up for debate after the first one,” you added, just in case. Pregnancy did not look fun and you didn’t want him holding you to this if you were too fucked up from the first pregnancy to try again. “I might hate being pregnant and never want to have another one again. We might have to be satisfied with one baby.”

“That’s good too, baby. I only want as many children as you’ll give me. Whether that’s one or three or seven.”

“Definitely not seven.” You smiled, adjusting yourself to sit back on the sofa with just your legs in his lap. “And no bargaining on gender either. If we have three daughters, you can’t ask for another one just to try for a son.”

“I would love three daughters. Why do you think I’ll ask you for a fourth one after that?”

“I don’t know,” you said, shrugging. “Men usually want sons. To teach them soccer or go fishing or whatever.”

“I’ll teach our three daughters soccer. Girls have legs. And I don’t care for fishing anyway. If they want to be with animals, they can take care of the ranch.”

“God, I planning my life out with a ranchero who wants a million kids!” You said, laughing.

“You’re just realizing that?”

“Oh god, I don’t know what’s worse— ranchero or DEA agent. Do you like chop wood shirtless or something? Cause I can’t handle that. I will end up having 7 kids if I saw that.”

“You’re mixing up rancheros with lumberjacks, baby. But I’ll learn to chop wood if you want. And I’ll teach our daughters to chop wood too. And how to shoot. And how to fix a car. Teach them plumbing and everything. So that they don’t have to call their boyfriends at midnight to ask them to fix their sink,” he said, making you giggle at the recollection of that night.

“Oh please, you weren’t complaining,” you scoffed, reminding him of the night he came over to fix your sink and ended up staying all night and all day in your bed.

“Exactly. No boy is slithering into my daughter’s bed like that. I won’t allow it.”

You scoffed. Oh you poor little fool… “You think my father didn’t teach me how to fix my sink, Javier? That I didn’t break it just to invite you over?”

“Fuck!”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. Let’s have three sons.”

.

.

.

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[tashacee]

Lost and Found - Chapter Three

Wild gave the rest of the Chain a run down of his memory when they all woke up the next morning. He told them about the sister he barely remembered, although he left out that her name had been Aryll. Wind, he figured, didn’t need to know that. Didn’t need to remember that fact when he thought of his own little sister, living happily back in the safety of Outset.

But he told them the rest as they sat over his massive breakfast of huevos rancheros in the ruins of Lon Lon Ranch, snow softening out the rough, jagged ruins and turning them from something stark into something almost romantic. Something peaceful.

Wild was grateful for the Chain. He knew that they always supported one another, but being able to share what he had remembered and to know before they even said it that he could count on their unerring support was a vast comfort. So when he then told them that he wanted to go to Lookout Landing next so that he could speak to Purah about what might have happened to his sister, he knew before anyone spoke what their response would be.

‘Yes’. Of course it was ‘yes’. ‘Yes’ with love and enthusiasm and kindness. There was no further discussion, no need to debate. The decision was made and that was where they would go.

Read the rest on AO3!

[nattinatalia]

Jack Harlow x Reader : DÍA DE LAS MADRES

A/N : This was supposed to go out Wednesday night for Hispanic mommy’s day.

Jack had woken up earlier than usual, luckily you and the kids were still sleeping upstairs. He was running around the house trying to get things set up for you.

You both always go above and beyond for one another and this year was no different. He had picked up your favorite flowers, your gift and of course made a quick stop at your favorite Mexican restaurant for some breakfast.

He was done setting up the posters the kids had made, when he heard little feet stomping around on the floor.

“Is that for mama?”

“Yeah, do you like it?”

Ezequiel nods, “Pretty.” He looks around and says, “I want give momma some.”

Jack smiles at that, he knew his little man would say that so he came prepared. “I have some for you in the kitchen so you can give them to mama.”

He smiles and runs towards the kitchen. “Breaky too?”

Jack follows behind him.“Yeah bud, I got everything.”

Next thing a grumpy Mia walks in the kitchen rubbing her eyes. “Mommy is awake, where are her gifts?”

Ez rolls his eyes “Chill.”

“You don’t even know what that means so you hush.” Mia glares at her brother.

“No tell me to hush, Mia mean.” Ez exclaims.

“Okay, no fighting. Today is your moms day and we need to be on our best behavior.” Jack tries to get them to calm down.

“What is going on?.” You come to a stop at the entrance of the kitchen, tying your robe tight around your waist.

Three heads turn to quickly look at you.

“NOTHING.” The three of them yell out.

“Hmm.” You smile. “I don’t believe you, but I’ll let it slide.”

Jack goes up to you, wraps his arms around you. “Feliz día de las madres baby.”

To your surprise, Jack pronounced it right and said it the right way without any problems. “Aww you’ve been practicing?”

He nods, “The kids are tough teachers.”

You both smile and share a kiss. “Thank you bubs.”

“Okay no more kissing.” Ez says. “Momma these for you.” He hands you a small bouquet of sunflowers.

“Aww thank you mi amorcito.” You bend down to kiss his cheek.

“Feliz madres día momma.”

“Ezequiel, how are you going to teach me how to say it but you mixed up the words?” Jack laughs.

“I’m her baby, so is okay.” Ezequiel smirks and hugs you, and gives you a kiss on the cheek as well.

“Babe, they were literally terrorizing me because I kept messing up the words, and he gets a pass?.” Jack shakes his head, acting hurt.

“Mommy.” Mia says entering the kitchen again. somehow she made a quick run for it without you noticing. “This for you.”

She hands you a Pandora bag, “Bubs?”

Jack shakes his head and has a confused look on him. “I didn’t buy that.”

“Oh?” You face Mia.

“Tío Clay took me, lo compré con mi dinero.” She shrugs.

You open up the box and find a beautiful gold bracelet. “Mia, this is beautiful”

“You like it?”

You nod and go to hug her. “I love it, thank you.”

“Alright kids, go wash your hands so we can have breakfast.” Jack tells them, and they both run to do just that.

“Babe, we have to return it. How did Clay let her spend money on this?”

“He just texted.” He looks at his phone and laughs. “I guess he didn’t really let her waste her money. Little shit charged it on my card.”

You both laugh at that.

“WE ARE STARVING GUYS.”

“Let’s go before we get put on timeout by our children.”

You and your family enjoy breakfast together, Jack had picked up all your favorites. From chilaquiles, to huevos rancheros and pan de Dulce with some coffee.

On the kitchen counter the kids had posters scattered around that they had hand painted themselves. They drew the entire family, even including Druski in it. They even made some arts and crafts made out of pasta and glued some pictures on it.

“I have one more surprise, well two but one of them is for tonight.” Jack shuts off the faucet after finishing washing the dishes.

“Babe, I told you no gifts this year.”

“It’s mommy’s day momma, you need gifts” Ez tells you excitedly. Your little boy really is the sweetest kid ever, both of your kids actually.

“Do you two know what the surprise is?”

They both nod and smile “YESS.”

“It’s so cool mom.” Mia tells you.

“Let’s go see your surprise?”

“What do you mean, go where?”

“Outside.” Jack takes your hand and starts leading you outside.

“Momma close eyes.” Ezequiel tells you.

“Eyes are closed mijo.”

“Five steps and then open your eyes baby.”

“Alright, you guys tell me when to open my eyes.”

“Open now mama.” Both Mia and Ez yell out.

Once you open your eyes, you’re in shock. “What?”

You quickly turn to question Jack, “Baby? What is this?”

“You said you wanted one, so I got it for you.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Baby, I was totally joking.”

He shakes his head, “You were probably joking just a tiny bit, but I know for a fact you really meant it.”

You jump on him, wrapping your legs around his waist, arms around his neck. “Thank you baby, for this morning and for always including our kids.”

“Anything for you mamas.” He squeezes your waist and gives you a kiss.

“Momma come sit in it.”

You and Jack pull away, and he sets you down. “Go momma, the kids are calling.”

You smile and follow after the kids who are sitting inside the car admiring it.

“You know we’re returning it right?” You ask your husband.

“What? No we’re not.”

“Babe, this is too much.”

“Nothing is too much for you. Plus look at the kids.” He gestured his head to where Mia and Ez are seated at. “They love it and I know they’d want turns riding in the passenger side.”

“Then this just means my gift for Father’s Day is more than valid.” You smirk.

“Babe, you can’t one up me! That’s not fair.”

You sit down in the driver seat “I’ve been planning your Father’s Day gift since last year so deal with it.”

“Momma?”

“Yeah baby?” You face Ezequiel.

“We go zoom zoom pass the hoes?”

“ANGEL EZEQUIEL HARLOW.!” Jack yells.

“What?”

“That’s not a nice word baby, where did you hear that?” You ask him, trying not to laugh.

“Uncle Druski.”

“You’re not allowed to spend alone time with uncle Dru any more.” Jack tells him, shaking his head.

“This is Mother’s Day guys, can we not talk about how naughty Cheesy and Druski are?” Mia asks, rolling her eyes. “Let’s go cuddle and watch movies.”

“Mia you’re bossy.” Ezequiel rolls his eyes.

“Alright, let’s go back inside. We all need to shower and then we can lay in bed and watch movies all day.”

“Not all day, we still have dinner.” Jack tells you.

“Dinner? Baby you already did enough.”

“It’s something small, I promise.”

“There’s nothing small concerning you Jackman.”

“You got that right.” He turns to see if the kids are out of earshot. “This is your main gift tonight.” He places your hand on his cock.

“That’s my gift every night, don’t get it twisted now.” You smack his ass and run ahead to catch up with the kids and make it to the steps before Jack catches you and carries you inside.

The kids are laughing and admiring the entire thing.

Jack and the kids definitely outdid themselves, and you weren’t talking about the gifts. The thoughtfulness and the love you received from them made your Mother’s Day so special just like every year.

• • • • • • • • • •

TAG LIST

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[twsthc]

deuces entire life ♠️🦖

this is the first of three full life posts, voted on by the twsthc premium server in celebration of 90+ members!!! yay!!!

Mama spade and Deuce's dad meet

Mama spade is Mexican and Korean 🇲🇽🇰🇷

Deuce's dad is Korean 🇰🇷

╰ They were both ~16-17 around the time they met, Mama spade was a teen mom; part time parent, part time student, part time BADASS BITCH!!! (had help from Grandma Spade)

Deuce was conceived + born in Cincinnati 🇺🇸

(cinci is where the game spades was made...)

Baby Deuce (0-11 months) ♠️

His favorite food as a baby was rolled omelettes and leftover runny yolk from breakfast (usually huevos rancheros or whatnot)

DISCLAIMER: don't give your baby runny eggs

Because they wanted to save money 99.99% of Deuce's clothes throughout his life have been thrifted

╰He looked like this as a baby:

Toddler Deuce (3-5 years) 🦖

Daycare time yaaay :3

This is around the time they found out about his

Diagnosed with dyslexia as well

His pediatrician began to suspect dyscalculia and ADHD

(Spoiler alert: he also had dyscalculia and ADHD)

Kid Deuce (6-12 years) ♠️

Random story

╰His abuelita bought like 2 chickens that he was obsessed with, he named them 옥수수 (ogsusu, corn) and the other one was named Mayo. "Together," he would explain "they make an elote."

Long story short, Deuce was very devastated to find pollo con mole on the dinner table one day (RIP)

Anyway. Middle school is when he began to get frustrated with his learning disorders.

Throws general anxiety disorder at him and runs

Deuce Teen (13-Current) 🦖

You know the rest. Delinquency phase, regret, reform

And now his outfits are bigger and cooler

[all-together-now]

Can we have a building competition for all the egg robos for who is the best robo helper with tail, belle and grease as the judges

Benedict stood aside, and presented his...well, it looked like a pile of junk to the judges.

"What is this, exactly?" Tails asked.

"It's a weight!" Benedict said proudly, "You place something on the plate in the center, and the bar on the left lifts up and tells you how heavy it is!"

He demonstrated by placing a wrench in the center of the contraption. The plate lowered, and it pulled down the metal sheets holding it from above. As advertised, a piece of sheet metal raised when the rest of the weight went down.

Now that they understood it, Tails, Belle, and Grease clapped, very impressed. They then moved on too Rancheros, who held his hands behind his back.

"I present to you..." he said grandly before stepping aside, "Rancher-ride!"

On his work table was a miniature, but incredibly intricate, roller coaster ride. Belle perked up when she saw it, but Grease chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"Trying to suck up to one of the judges, are we?" the orangutan accused playfully.

"Hey. Appealing to the interests of others doesn't hurt anyone," Rancheros shrugged.

"This is amazing!" Belle squealed.

"But it's just a toy in comparison to the actual tool Benedict made," Tails said, "A cool one, yes, but nothing practical."

"Well, let's see what the last Egg..."

Grease trailed off as he, Tails, Belle, and the other Egg Robos gazed up at the huge windmill suddenly in the Machine Shop. At the base of the structure, Florentine twirled a wrench in her hand.

"How's this for practical?" she asked.

The three judges exchanged glances and nodded.

"You win," they said in unison.

"Aw, what?!" Rancheros whinged.

"Heh. Easy," Florentine chuckled.

[burritowitch]

People at school be saying that they really hope they can get enough money to buy their dream cars when we're sixteen in a few years meanwhile if im autistic enough about cars for the next three years my dad will be happy enough that one of his kids likes car that he'll get me my dream car. 1957 ford ranchero in light blue that currently belongs to my dads friend keith you will be mine

[samwpmarleau]

fic: into this night i wander

whumptober day 9: obsession masterlist: tumblr, ao3 Quake’s warpath brings her more than just notoriety.

Robbie makes a mean huevos rancheros. She’d found that out when she’d dropped by on what turned out to be the morning of Gabe’s birthday to see if Robbie — and his other half — had any more information to offer about what’s been going on in the city. He’d reluctantly filled a plate for her, she’d just as reluctantly told him it tasted okay, and thus has been her excuse for showing up here the past two weeks.

He hasn’t always provided such fanfare, sometimes it’s merely cereal, but the prospect of both food and information has kept her coming back. The system she’s constructed for herself has been working out great.

Had been working out great.

“You want to explain this?”

Daisy, contentedly chewing on some toast as she listens to a police scanner, prepares to roll her eyes at his theatrics when she sees he’s holding a piece of paper in his hand. The bite of toast goes down painfully in her suddenly dry throat. She would know that paper anywhere. Even from several feet away, she can see the man’s handwriting. Why Robbie has it, she can’t explain, unless —

“Did you go through my van?” she accuses, getting to her feet.

“No, I went to the front door.” Robbie glances down at the paper, then at her. “Have you gotten one of these before?”

You could say that.

She snatches the paper from him without answering and scans its contents.

Her breath shallows as she reads. It’s not the same as the other letters. Oh, the author is the same, of that she’s sure; the handwriting matches, as does the syntax. But where the letters she’d received were creepily complimentary, this is something else entirely.

After all our time together, why do you turn against me now? Every night I waited for you and you never noticed me. But you never went home with anyone, so I thought you were saving yourself for someone special. For me. I thought this man was just a source. But that’s not true, is it? You walk around his house like he owns you, like he knows you better than I do. He is trying to keep us apart, Quake. Is it my fault? Have I made you angry by being silent for so long? Well, don’t worry. I won’t let him come between us anymore. I will remind you how much I love you. Signed, Your Friend.

She doesn’t realize how long she continues to stare at the letter until Robbie tilts her chin up to look at him. “When did you start getting these letters?”

“I — a few months ago, but he hasn’t been violent like this before. I didn’t think — we’re just having breakfast, I had no idea he’d threaten you.”

“Threaten me? Three years in S.H.I.E.L.D. and is hasn’t crossed your mind that this guy is one bad day away from deciding that if he can’t have you, no one can?”

“I’m sorry, I never meant for you to be brought into it. He’ll leave you alone if I stop coming here. I’ll grab my stuff and go.”

Robbie looks at her like she’s grown a second head. “You’re crazier than the guy who wrote that letter if you think I’m going to let you go off on your own.”

“Let me? You don’t get to let me do anything. Spare me the alpha male bullshit.”

“It’s not alpha male bullshit. You’re being stalked, Daisy.”

“I can take care of myself.”

Challenge in his eyes, Robbie invites, “Yeah? Quake me then. Show me how you can take care of yourself.”

Daisy tugs down the ends of her sleeves, hiding away the purple spiderweb of bruises. The movement makes Daisy’s arms throb with pain, reminding her unnecessarily that even with the bone restoration pills, using her powers means risking permanent disablement. Her left arm’s already broken, her right ready to follow suit. Even fighting hand-to-hand would be recklessly tempting fate.

And Robbie knows it.

A glare is all the ammunition she has, so she throws that at him. “I’ll figure something out. I always do.”

“I’m trying to help you.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“No, just my food.”

Ire growing, Daisy brandishes the letter at him. “If I don’t leave, today, this is gonna escalate.”

“Or it’s going to end.”

“What are you gonna do, kill him?”

“If it comes to that.”

“That’s why I don’t want you involved. You can’t just murder anyone who’s inconvenient.”

“I murder people who deserve it.”

“All this guy’s done is send a few letters. That warrants the death penalty now?”

Robbie lets out a disgruntled sigh. “Look, just … stay here tonight. We’ll see what the danger is. Okay?”

Daisy so does not have the patience for his protectionism. He has no right, and she is not remotely inclined to be responsible for a murder, no matter how skeeved out she may be. Still, maybe one night wouldn’t hurt. She’d at least get some dinner out of it. “All right, fine,” she relents, “one night. But that’s it.”

———

Robbie sends Gabe to a friend’s house for the night as a precaution and insists on sleeping on the couch, something Daisy only performatively objects to. His bed likely is more comfortable than the couch and definitely more comfortable than her van; she has plenty of pride, but she’s not that prideful.

Which turns out to be the wrong decision.

Other than the usual humming of the refrigerator and distant rush of the freeway, the house is quiet with its residents all fast asleep. At first, Daisy thinks the tapping that wakes her is just the house settling. Or maybe the feral cat that frequents the underpass has hopped up on the fence. Except the noise keeps coming, tap-tap-tap, too uniform to be either the house or cat. Groggy yet curious, Daisy sits up in bed and scans for she doesn’t really know what.

Nothing stands out — until her eyes catch on the window she’d forgotten to draw the curtains over. There, almost sheet-white in the moonlight, is a face. It looks like it’s floating, so dark are its owner’s clothes. Floating and staring with hands cupped to the window to better see inside. The man doesn’t blink, his mouth curved into a placid smile. The smile grows when he sees that she’s noticed him.

She yelps in surprise and scrambles out of bed, hitting the flood with a thud. The man mouths her name and moves his hand to the latch that keeps the window shut. It’s locked, she’s pretty sure, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to open it. She wills herself to move, to risk sending a quake at him, something. She’s faced far more dangerous, intimidating creatures than a single man. She’s beaten them, usually with little effort at all. Yet here she sits frozen in the dark, watching as he attempts to enter. To get near her, to … she doesn’t know what.

She wonders what he’ll do when he realizes he can’t get the lock undone. Would he smash the window? Does he have a weapon? The house has a back door and Robbie’s at the other end of the house, what if —

Daisy jumps as the door is abruptly shoved open. Robbie. “Hey, I heard —”

He sees what she sees then, the man at the window. Her breath catches in her chest as the man’s expression twists from eager to furious when he registers Robbie’s arrival. That Robbie clearly hadn’t been sharing even the same room, let alone the same bed, doesn’t seem to matter. Being here at all suffices. The man bangs on the window so hard it rattles in its moorings.

“Go into Gabe’s room and stay there,” Robbie commands. Between his tone and the man at the window, Daisy has no desire to argue. She goes one way and Robbie the other, setting off at a sprint out the front door.

There’s a window in Gabe’s room, too, and she hurries over to throw the curtain over it. From Gabe’s desk she grabs a pair of scissors and backs up against the wall. She can’t fathom a scenario in which the man gets the better of Robbie — of Ghost Rider — but she’s not about to take the chance. Blood rushes in her ears. The way he had looked at her, first with such adoration then such hatred …

If Robbie hadn’t won their argument about staying here, if she’d been in her van and the man approached, if she didn’t have time to get into the driver’s seat to speed away …

She adjusts her grip on the scissors as they slip in her sweaty palms.

She doesn’t know how long Robbie’s gone. It feels like hours. Were he anyone else, she might try to go after him, see if something’s wrong. But if there’s anyone in the universe who could hold their own, it’s him, she just has to trust that.

Her nerves are frayed by the time there’s a knock on the door. Her heart leaps into her throat.

“It’s me.”

Robbie’s voice has Daisy dropping onto the bed in relief as he comes in and flicks on the lights. He seems to be uninjured. “Did you find…?”

“No, coward turned tail and ran. I didn’t see which way. But he gave us those handprints on the window, and maybe he left tracks somewhere that we can check out in the morning.”

“Okay. Yeah, good idea.”

Robbie crouches down in front of her and places a hesitant hand on her knee. “Are you all right?”

“You mean besides never being able to sleep again? Yeah, I’m great.” She glances at the scissors still in her hand, then Robbie in his sweatpants and an old t-shirt. “You gonna say I told you so?”

“No. I’m just glad you’re safe.” Robbie gets to his feet then pulls her to hers. “Did you recognize that guy? Anything familiar about him?”

She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen him before.”

“Well, all those newspaper articles and blog posts, he could’ve come from anywhere. You haven’t exactly been subtle going after the Watchdogs. Quake.”

“Hang on, are you saying this is my fault?”

“I’m saying it’s not going to be easy to figure out who he is. And after tonight, there’s no question of whether he’s dangerous.” Sounding like it’s the last thing he wants to suggest, he says, “You should reach out to S.H.I.E.L.D. They’ll be able to help you. Protect you. Fix your arms while they’re at it.”

He has a point. Between her and Fitz, it probably wouldn’t take all that long to find the man, and she’s willing to bet Simmons has updated gauntlets ready to go. She could outfit her van with surveillance tech she can’t drum up on her own, and it would keep Robbie and Gabe from harm, too.

But the idea of returning after all the damage she’d caused, reviving the roots she’d pulled from the ground, it’s too daunting. Besides, with a new director and S.H.I.E.L.D. in the spotlight, who knows what hoops she’d have to jump through to get their help at all?

“I’m not going back,” she says. “If it’s your safety you’re worried about, don’t be. I’m leaving. He’ll follow me, not you.”

“I can look out for Gabe and myself just fine. I have a demon on my side who’d happily incinerate that guy. You don’t.”

“I’m not some damsel in distress for you to save, Robbie. You don’t get to have a say over my life.”

Robbie clenches his jaw. “Fine. Make your own way. I’m sure Gabe’s scissors and your thirty-year-old van that barely works will stop this guy from finding you.”

Daisy envisions the man tapping at her driver’s side window, or jimmying the lock on the back door, or slashing her tires. Using her powers on him would work to put distance between them … but it would also render her arms virtually unusable, and then what? She’d have to go solicit help anyway, probably end up in the hands of the cops and put in jail for vigilantism. Best case, S.H.I.E.L.D. would take custody and she’d be back at square one.

Doesn’t matter. She can’t stay here. She wants nothing to do with having to rely on Robbie Reyes and his condescension.

She shoulders past him and walks down the hall to the living room to pack up the few belongings she’d brought into the house with her. Pulling a sweatshirt over her pajama top, she bids, “Tell Gabe I said goodbye.”

There’s nothing but incredulity on Robbie’s face. “You’re really that stubborn?”

“I don’t need you.”

“Okay, just — let someone help you. You’re going to get yourself hurt.”

“What do you care?” Daisy snaps. “You didn’t want me here to begin with.”

“I didn’t want you getting in my way and threatening my brother.”

“And now I’m getting out of your way.”

Robbie reaches out to grab her wrist. “Daisy, come on. You’re being stupid. You know you’re being stupid.”

“No,” she says, shoving his hand off and striding to the door, “I’m dealing with my own problem.”

———

Daisy doesn’t sleep well, but she does sleep. Her van is a comforting constant. It runs, whatever Robbie had said, and she’d found a vetted parking lot to hole up for the night. While her meager cot may not be as nice as Robbie’s mattress was, it’s a bed all the same. As the Los Angeles sun streams into the van, awakening her, she stretches and prepares to get on the road again.

A thin breeze alerts her to a fluttering piece of paper beneath her windshield wipers.

She opens it, and the sun loses its warmth.

I knew you didn’t want him, Quake. I knew you loved me. I’ll see you soon. Signed, Your Friend.

[muutos]

𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙶𝙰𝙽'𝚂 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃 𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Comfort food(s): chuletas con arroz amarillo y gandules, fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, ribs, poor man's huevos rancheros. Comfort drink(s): monster (lol, zero ultra), dr. pepper, coke zero. Comfort movie(s): house of 1000 corpses, quentin tarantino's catalogue, the matrix reloaded, the jungle book, lord of the rings, john wick, speed, bill & ted, tank girl, the resident evil movies, fight club, shark tale, the dark knight, zombieland, cinderella Comfort show(s): how i met your mother, star trek the original series, trailer park boys, the punisher, big brother us, hoarders, rocko's modern life, criminal minds, futurama Comfort clothing:my wu tang clan, or wu tang forever hoodie.. my 3x terzo (ghost) shirt, my snake skin pants, my canvas vest with a billion pockets, my grandpa's old denim jacket, my 13 year old red doc martens. Comfort song(s): mutter, spring, and rosenrot by rammstein (or all of rammstein). hypnotize by system of a down... probably all of disturbed's the sickness... uuuuuhhh, the x&y album by coldplay, probably... eminem in general, gwen stefani's let me reintroduce myself - i love myself today by bif naked Comfort book(s): fight club, the silver eyes, speak, ren & stimpy marvel comic run... Comfort game(s): until dawn, new super mario bros, new super mario bros wii, new super mario bros deluxe, smash brothers melee/brawl/ultimate, luigis mansion / dark moon/3, animal crossing (all of it), cuphead is getting up there, mario party superstars / 7 / and super mario party switch... the entire pokemon rpg catalogue, sims 2 double deluxe, fortnite, annnnnnnd five nights at freddy's THREE !!

Tagged by: no one i stole it. Tagging: you

[alrightbuckaroo]

tag ten people you want to get to know better!

thanks for tagging me @lightningboltreader, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @rosedavid, and @irispurpurea!

relationship status: single and after hearing one too many men speak on Podcasts™; thinking it might stay that way for a minute tbh!

song stuck in my head: playing dangerous by lana del rey! i've been subjecting myself to a "lana lockdown" as a way to get the next chapter of "come and take a walk on the wild side" written. (most of TK's pov is written so let's celebrate THAT lmao)

last song i listened to: fun by elli ingram! a song that became an accidental muse of my summer romance au. if you want an inkling of the vibe of the story, it's meant to sound like that.

last thing i googled: huevos rancheros

three favorite foods: pasta, pasta again, and huevos rancheros

dream trip: you know my pasta loving ass is going to find any way to get to italy.

anything i want right now: to have all of my stories magically written without actually having to write them please and thank you 🫶

If you could be any animal, what would you be and why? brown bear; just love 'em.

would you rather have the power to read minds or fly?: read minds! i want to know why everyone is always staring at me when i go to the grocery store? do they all collectively know my ao3 history???

no pressure tagging: @heartstringsduet, @carlos-in-glasses, @catanisspicy, @sanjuwrites, @chaotictarlos, @reyesstrand, @strandnreyes, @bonheur-cafe, @basilsunrise, @wandering-night19 and here's an open tag!

[circusgoth-dotcom]

Bar Bully

Ship: Salem Nickle Newman x Anton Chigurh

Word Count: 1691

Summary: This might be a disjointed mess honestly, I just wanted to write a fic utilizing a mechanical bull. CWs for food mentions, violence, suggestive ending.

Tag List: @futurewife @canongf

I don’t care if it rains or freezes, ‘long as I got my plastic Jesus, sittin’ on the dashboard of my car...

The radio played at a respectable volume as a breeze whistled through the latest car Anton Chigurh and his partner, Salem Newman, had stolen; a black 1972 Ford Ranchero. While Chigurh usually preferred taking cars with no particularly distinguishing features, this Ford, unfortunately, had a busted front plate.

 Salem insisted it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, especially as they were currently driving in the middle of nowhere under the cover of the dark prairie sky, deep in the heart of Texas. In fact, they were on their way to their next hit, having been trailing the bounty for two days, now. They knew where their target was heading, the trouble was catching him in advance, for there was no telling where he’d disappear to after his proposed final destination.

“Anton, can I see your watch?” Salem suddenly prompted, sitting up straight in his seat. Anton silently removed his hand from the wheel and offered his large wrist to his partner, keeping his eyes on the road as they examined the time. “Baby, you don’t think there’s somethin’ open at this hour, do you?”

Anton arched an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

“I’m starving. We skipped dinner, remember?”

Anton returned his hand to the wheel. “We didn’t skip anything, we don’t have much of a routine, Salem.”

“Well, you know what I meant.” He folded his arms, “honestly, I don’t know how you’ve trained yourself like this. You’re like a camel.”

The smallest of smirks teased Anton’s features. “I suppose we could find something, but don’t get your hopes up. You can buy something from the vending machine if we reach a motel before then.”

“Oh, thank you for giving me permission to do that much,” Salem spoke sarcastically before chuckling and settling back into the passenger seat, looking up at the pitch-black sky, dotted with gleaming stars. Anton responded with the quietest of grunts, now actively keeping his gaze peeled for signs indicating places where the two of them could find sustenance.

Two miles passed before a sign appeared at the side of the road, advertising an “open late” honky-tonk bar. Taking it as an indication, Anton made his way to the appropriate exit.

“There is a God,” Salem quipped as they pulled into the parking lot of Tennessee Rose’s BBQ.

“They should be open for about four more hours,” Anton noted as they exited the Ford and entered the restaurant, pushing his new stetson lower on his head in an attempt to conceal his identity. “Let’s make it fast, Salem.”

“As if it’s going to take me four hours to eat some bar food. Anton, you’re buggin’ out, I really think you ought to sleep in tomorrow.” Salem squeezed his partner’s arm in concern before leading the way to the bar. He took a seat and happily ordered while Anton remained standing, glancing around the restaurant. It was like any other dive bar in Texas, with sticky floors and tacky decoration; its one unique offering was a mechanical bull ride, situated at the opposite end of the room. Party lights danced on its faux hide, the absence of a rider giving the device an unintentionally eerie atmosphere. There were three other customers, two at the bar and one situated in a booth, chuffing away on a cigar.

“It’s going to be a minute,” Salem announced to Anton, turning around on his stool and observing the scene for himself. As he grazed over the mechanical bull, his eyes lit up slightly. “Anton, can I have your wallet?”

Anton fixed his partner with a hard stare but ultimately gave it up. Hopping off the stool, Salem made a beeline for the hazardous entertainment, only to knock shoulders with a fourth customer coming out of the restroom.

“Hey, watch it!”

“Sorry, I didn’t see you in my peripheral,” Salem shrugged, rubbing his arm slightly. The man rolled his eyes in annoyance, then paused, seemingly captured by Salem’s appearance.

“Do I know you…?”

They pursed their lips and folded their arms. “I get around. Maybe we’ve crossed paths.”

“You got a name, partner?”

Salem glanced toward Anton. While most would assume he was simply leaning against the bar and waiting, Salem knew he was intently watching this interaction go down. “Strictly for those I do business with, I do. Now, if you’d excuse me, I’d like to get a little fun in before my meal’s served up.”

They resumed their path, opening Anton’s thick wallet and handing the manager of the machine five dollars before eagerly entering the pen. The customer watched him climb onto the bull, then joined the man with the cigar in the booth. Saddling up, Salem looked across the bar at Anton and grinned before waving playfully and blowing him a kiss.

“Hold on tight,” the operator instructed before flicking a switch. The bull began to rock slowly and Salem tensed his thighs against its sides, keeping low to the bull’s back as the speed increased. He was determined to get his money’s worth and expertly timed his movements with the flow of the machine, concentrating so hard on keeping on the metal animal that he became practically completely unaware of his surroundings.

BANG-BANG-BANG!

“Holy shit!” Salem pressed his whole body against the bull as it was accidentally set to max speed. The operator had been shot twice, body slumping against the control panel, and the third bullet had just whizzed over Salem’s head. The bartender and other patrons had collapsed in an effort to not be the next victim, but Anton and the two men in the booth remained standing; the one that had bumped into Salem was the one who had fired the shots. The was momentarily bar filled with the sounds of a shoot-out before silence fell once more.

“You’re going to have to jump off!” Anton shouted over the whirring of the bull.

“You mean to tell me there’s no emergency shut off on this damn thing?!” Salem yelled back.

“The key’s jammed, damn it!”

With a groan, Salem threw himself off of the machine and rolled toward the edge of the pen, pulling himself over it and examining what had happened. The adversaries lay slumped against the booth seating, bleeding from deep holes in their arms and torsos, while Anton remained unscathed, his pistol smoking in his hand.

“You brought that in??” Salem asked, eying the weapon and suddenly feeling very naked without his own. “Who are these creeps?”

“Rival hitmen.” Anton stalked forward, nudging the initial shooter with his boot. The man was barely clinging to life. “Who do you work for?”

“I. Ain’t. Tellin’. You. Shit,” the man gargled, “Chigurh.”

Anton sighed in annoyance. He wanted to ask why he shot at Salem first, but what was the point? He handed the gun to his partner. “You want to do the honours?”

“Gladly.” Salem pressed the barrel between the man’s eyebrows. “Fuckin’ prick.” As he pulled the trigger, Anton had already begun to make his way out of the bar to retrieve his bolt stunner. When he returned, the other two patrons and the bartender had risen to their feet, shaking and disturbed.

“I want you all to line up,” Anton instructed. “The three of you are going to each have a chance to flip a coin. This will be the most meaningful act in your entire life.”

When they didn’t move, Salem clapped his hands loudly. “You heard my partner, line up.”

Hesitantly, the three men did as they were told. Salem produced a quarter from his pocket and stood in front of the first man, flipping it, catching it, and covering it on the back of his hand.

“Call it.”

The unlucky patron licked his lips anxiously. “H-heads.”

Salem removed his hand. Heads. “Lucky man. You’re free to go.”

“And we trust you’ll have the sense not to tell anyone about this, at least not more than is needed. Comprende?”

The patron nodded and swiftly exited. Salem stepped in front of the second man, repeating the process.

“Call it,” Anton echoed.

“Heads,” the patron spat out, unable to look either of them in the eye.

Salem uncovered the coin. Tails. Salem turned away as Anton brought the nozzle of the stunner up to the man’s head. He heard a whimper of fear, a hiss, and the thud of the body on the dirty floor.

“That leaves you, bartender,” Salem spoke coolly. “Which sucks, because I haven’t gotten my food yet.”

“Would you just hang on until we get to the hotel?” Anton chided. “Darlin’, you know absolutely nothing’s going to be open now.”

“Yeah, alright.” He flipped the coin.

“Call it, sir, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

The bartender’s eyes flashed between them. “I-I won’t…”

“You have to. Life’s full of choices. Call it.”

“Kill me now, then, that’s my choice, if I can’t get you to leave.”

“That’s not how this works,” Salem piped up. “We don’t take prisoners, mister.” A pause. “Call it or I’m gonna kick you in the balls, old man!”

The bartender flinched and Anton gave his partner a warning glance.

“Alright, alright--! Tails, then!”

And tails it was. A great exhale of relief left the bartender as he sunk to his knees.

“Goodnight, sir.” Anton twitched the brim of his hat, picked up the air pressure tank, and led Salem back into the parking lot.

“This sucked. Why did we pull over??” Salem asked rhetorically as he slid back into the Ford, opening the glove compartment and grabbing a pack of baby wipes in an attempt to wipe off the few flecks of blood that had gotten on him in the thrall. “Jesus Christ I’m gonna be sore tomorrow.”

“And not even for a good reason.” Anton retorted, starting up the vehicle. Salem’s face burned.

“You jealous, Foghorn?~”

“Are you offering to ‘drive?’” Anton cupped his partner’s chin with his fingers, widening his seated stance slightly, his other hand resting on his belt.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Oh, I’m not trying to.”

“... Fuck.”

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Packard Patricia pickup

Chris Coleman

Former Test Driver & Mechanic at Automotive Industry (2007–2008

What were the original reasons for Chevrolet coming out with the El Camino?

The El Camino, and other similar vehicles, like the Ford Ranchero, Subaru BRAT, Dodge Rampage and others, were designed to offer car-like comfort, performance and convenience, with the cargo capability of a light truck. Three of the forerunners to this were the Packard Patrician pickup, the Chevrolet Cameo and the Dodge Sweptline pickups.

1957 Dodge Sweptline with tailfins

Chevrolet Cameo Fleetside

The El Camino was based on the full-sized Impala originally, and was enormous. The low ground clearance and hefty weight made it a poor choice as a pickup. Most owners purchased them for styling reasons, especially with the cat eye taillights and horizontal tail fins.

1959 Chevrolet El Camino

Later, Chevrolet downsized the El Camino and based it on the Chevelle/Malibu, where it remained until it was discontinued.

1968 El Camino SS

With nothing in the rear, other than an empty bed, it was difficult to make it competitive as a muscle car, since the weight distribution was heavily biased towards the front.

Also, the bed used curved sheet metal in many places, to accommodate the rounded body panels, and this wasn’t a good fit with common pickup cargo, like plywood, hay bales and crates.

With the passenger compartment realistically holding two people, it was worthless as a family car, while a station wagon version of the Chevelle would be perfect. These things made it an odd fit with a very limited customer base.

Holden Ute, from Australia

Paradoxically, in Australia, cars like these, called Utes (short for utility) were and are extremely popular. Australia has a more rural environment and remote ranches and homes, which make this type of vehicle perfect for them. However in a more suburban setting, like the U.S., the El Camino was always an odd choice.

1972 Ford Ranchero - Based on the Torino

Dodge Rampage

Dodge Rampage, built on the K-car platform

Subaru Baja

Today, no one makes a ute for the American market, but that doesn’t mean these may not resurface from time to time. As kids grow up and nests are emptied, we may once again see a demand for the ubiquitous El Camino, Ford Ranchero and others.

[just-about-nothing]

tagged by @shark-myths! thank you <3

relationship status: single & psyched about it!

favorite colors: purple and blue! altho i've really been jamming with forest green recently.

song stuck in my head: i somehow don't have a song stuck in my head right now, very cash money of me lol

last song i listened to: some jazz song the dj was playing (listening to public radio). he realized he screwed up the back announcing on air & so i have no clue what the name is.

three favorite foods: chile rellenos, saag paneer, and huevos rancheros!

last thing googled: good econ podcasts -- i think! i don't use google very much. but the answer seems to be the new book economics one; it looks like there's a broad variety of economic thinking + it's recent economic thought, both of which are nice. there was also a marxist podcast i utterly forgot the name of lol.

dream trip: i really want to go to berlin so badly! i'd also love to go back to oxford & london but at this point, i'd be happier living there over visiting. ah! and i very much want to go to los angeles -- which is a much more doable trip than european jaunts

anything i want right now: i want my laptop fixed & to get into law school! please let me into law school ;-;

tagging: @an-odd-idea, @empiria-caterima, @hummerous, @purplethespian, & @esoomris!

[blackcat2016]

tag 9 people to get to know better

thank you @they-call-me-georgia!

Last song: Trollabundin by Eivor

Currently watching: I'm really not a TV watcher, but if something were to be on it'd likely be the Golden Girls or like the Great British Bakeoff

Three ships: uuugghhh... uhm... (legit never seen the show BUT) Regina/Emma (OUAT), Gaby/Pierrette (8 Femmes), Miranda/Andrea (DWP)

Favorite color: purple

Currently consuming: nothing atm, but earlier huevos rancheros (argentinian style)

First ship: oh dear... uhm... probably Janeway/Chakotay

Relationship status: thruple. if that's the fucking term, idk. poly-monogamous relationship I guess

tagging (only if you wanna!): @lustrouswhite @smile-at-the-stars @escapades-to-rivendell @foxdimitrescu @vampiric-touch @atrophytohell

[moltara]

VACATION FOOD MASTERPOST!

i realized i never posted ANY of the food pics i took so here they are with bonus director's commentary

fried chicken sangwich (not pictured: tasty ranchero sauce i got with it)

rita's gelati! (mango italian ice w/ vanilla custard)

beef and vegetable soup in a tomato broth <3 super yummy

sweet chili wings at a fancy golf club my cousin's bf is a member of

also they included these expensive luxardo cherries in my shirley temples. i ate Three of them.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

⭐

((Send in an ask with a star emoji and/or a fic/ficlet title and I'll give you some commentary on it :O!!))

A fun lil fact about Sunny Side Up: I was trying vv hard to give lil Lup Hints throughout the fic without being super duper obvious. Some of them are vv,,, grasping at straws, but it was fun nonetheless sldkfsd Most ppl have figured out this line-

“For you?” Tía asked. “You mean I have to share these three helpings of huevos rancheros instead of eating them all by myself?”

-bc obviously, Taako and his Tía are only two ppl. But here are some more!!

When they weren’t cooking or practicing magic, Tía would sit with him and teach him how to wind up her hair in intricate styles

As someone who hc's Taako with (pretty) short hair, this line was also a reference to Lup. Namely, because I imagine Lup would have liked to grow her hair out, but neither of them had anywhere to learn how to put it up beside a regular ponytail.

The worst part was just that he was alone.

Obviously, all mentions of Taako being alone is a somewhat indirect references to Lup, but this is one of the first major ones that pop up. And this one, too, ofc-

Taako needed someone on his side. Fame might be all he ever wanted, but it was isolating all the same. Now, more than ever before.

I think a Lot about if Lup had actually been able to be with Taako during the redaction and how that would change him/how he acts. I always try to make it very obvious that Taako is yearning for something, but he cannot physically know what. Having a bodyguard is a smart move, but I don't think Taako would have ever considered it if he hadn't felt so alone.

The "now, more than ever before" is a very direct reference to the redaction, because before, even in his fake memories, there was/always will be a sense of... not complete loneliness. Because Lucretia can erase Lup, and take her out of the memories, but she can't change how Taako feels in those memories. It only changes how he looks back on them.

Before Sazed, it was the first time Taako had truly ever been alone.

He had almost forgotten how awful it was out on the road.

This one, also, is a very indirect reference to Lup, for the same reasons as above. It wasn't that bad before because it wasn't like that before.

I think that's all :O there's more in the subtext, I'm sure, but all of these are at least intentional sdlfsfd