#Xolo why are you leaning in and closing your eyes

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

EXCUSE-MOI

Deleted scene where Miguel and Demetri kiss with tongue when—

[sensei-venus]

What about Reader is an actress on ck and is always asked if she's dating her costars but she always avoids the question. But she's actually poly with Jacob and Xolo?

“So, Reader, I have a more personal question to ask.” Reader laughed as the YouTube reporter grinned at her. Sitting across from each other in the small white-lit room. The atmosphere slowly started to shift the longer the interview went on.

“Well I would hope you have something good for me.”She said while getting comfortable in her seat. The fluffy couch the studio has is perfect. Settling down into the nice cushions Reader looks back to the guy named Nick who was interviewing her. He seemed like a nice guy and all but at the end of the day, he was still a reporter. Most of the questions that were asked so far were pretty tame.

But now after that brief pause, she knew something big was coming.

It did not sound like it was going to be a fun question.

He gave a small grin saying “So I know for a fact that you have not made a statement about your dating life since staring in Cobra Kai.” he leaned back in his chair.

“Oh well, I guess. My dating life has never been that interesting and I guess I just wanted to keep it a little more private?” she nervously giggled. Maybe she should have suspected a question like this at some point. It was only a matter of time before the topic came up. People were always interested in famous people's dating lives. Thinking back on it, he was completely right. She had never made even the slightest remark about her dating life in a while.

The urge to continue keeping that information to herself was high.

“Well can't you give us a little something?” he wiggled his brows at her. Reader nervously laughed.

“Well I am in a very happy relationship at the moment. That's all I am going to say about it at the moment.” a smile crossed her face. Thinking about her handsome boyfriends made her feel all warm inside. Both of whom were actually sitting in other rooms being interviewed.

The guy raises a brow before making an awkward cough. Clearly a little annoyed at the fact she wasn't giving him what he wanted. A smirk started to form on his lips as he leaned in a bit. Playing with some cards in his hands, most likely with different questions he had planned to ask throughout the talk.

“So you can't confirm any of the rumors going around that you might be dating one of your costars from the Cobra Kai set? That seems to be a hot topic amongst your fans.” 

“Oh well I mean- I can see why. Most of the cast is really close. We all hang out a lot and most of us hang out separately a lot too. I can't blame any of our fans for speculating things.” she gave a small smile to the camera.

“So does that mean-”

“Nick come on now lets talk about something else.” Reader deflected Nick’s question once again.

The rest of the interview was spent awkwardly trying to get around that one question.

After two hours of back and forth the interview was over for the day. Reader was free to leave and she was definitely happy about it. It was so draining to continuously be asked stupid questions over and over again in one setting. She huffed little while walking out of the large building. She only started to feel better when she noticed who was next to her car. Leaning against her car talking to each other was Jacob and Xolo. With a big smile she jogged over to them.

As soon as she got to them Xolo chimed in “So how did your interview go?” Jacob snorted for some strange reason. Reader rolled her eyes “ Irritating, I got this guy Nick who was so pushy. Did you guys have someone who just wouldn’t stop with the-“ she was interrupted by Jacob saying “Dating questions? Yeah the chick I got wouldn’t stop trying to say shit. Can you believe she really tried to insinuate that I could be dating…Mary of all people??” He raised a brow. With a goofy grin Xolo actually bent over a little and started to laugh, Reader doing the same.

“Mary? Really?”

“Dude that hilarious, you hardly even hang out with Mary these days.”

“I know right?!?” He threw his hands up in a playful manner.

Xolo finally got back to his senses as he straightened back up. With a small cough he mentions “So who did they try to say you were with?” Reader got a little flustered “Actually he didn’t try to pin anyone down. He just kept pushing that it was someone from the Cobra Kai set. Which I mean is kinda the only set I could be really dating someone from at the moment because it’s the only series I have been filing on for a while now-“ she yelps as two sets of hands pull her in. Looking around quickly she finds no one but them in the parking lot. The place completely empty, no cameras in sight. Even the security cameras on the building are pointing away from them.

It’s the perfect angle to not get their little moment caught.

A smile blooms over Readers lips.

She feels Xolo’s lips on her neck which has her giggling. Jacob’s hands gently grip at her fluffy hips and belly. She can feel his soft breath on her cheek as he starts to nibble on her jaw. It’s so nice, just being able to have a moment to themselves. They can’t do this in public.

The urge as celebrities to keep this special little romance between the three of the secret.

Something no one else knows about. Something that only they can enjoy without worry. It was never about the three of them being together. Coming out as a poly couple didn’t scare them at all. It was being caught in a relationship period that they didn’t like. They had been enjoying each others company for months now with no problems. So far the relationship had been wonderful and the idea of people finding out and possibly trying to ruin it scared them a little.

No one needed to know that Reader Jacob and Xolo were in a loving and happy relationship together.

“So we meet up at Jacob’s tonight for dinner then?”

“Hell yeah babe.”

“Oh I can cook that dish you guys like this time.”

Jacob and Reader grinned while they started to kiss all over Xolo’s face.

Those reporters could think what they wanted.

Too bad they were only half right on who Reader was actually dating on the Cobra Kai set.

[pengychan]

[Coco] Mind the Gap, Pt. 13

Title: Mind the Gap Summary: Modern Day AU. Tired of Ernesto’s snide remarks, Imelda decides to put him in his place and her husband is more than happy to help. It was supposed to be a one-night deal. Things quickly get out of hand. [OT3, mostly porn and humor. Plenty of instances of Ernesto being Dramatic, Imelda getting Sick Of His Shit, and Héctor trying to be the peacekeeper. Don’t expect anything serious.] Pairings: Ernesto/Héctor/Imelda Rating: Explicit.

Art by Dara.

[All chapters are tagged as 'mind the gap’ on my blog.]

A/N: Not much smut, lots art. And also Dante. I hope you enjoyed things going smoothly in these past few chapter, because that’s not gonna last. 

***

“You know it’s just for a few days, right?”

“Sure.”

“They’ll be back home by Sunday.”

“Mhhh,” Ernesto grumbles, looking away from him to fix his jacket, and Héctor rolls his eyes. Oh, of course he’s gonna be like that: he’s always like this when he’s denied something… or in this case told that no adult fun is going to be happening in his and Imelda’s apartment for a bit, due to Imelda’s brothers visiting. 

It’s not like we can let them know of this arrangement, Imelda told him the previous day, practical as always, and Héctor agreed… though somewhere in the back of his mind he did wonder if they’d really take it so badly. They’re young, both much more open-minded than their parents would be, and would know better than babbling; still, he understands and shares her decision to keep it under wraps. 

Part of him feels as though the arrangement works as long as it was kept in a bubble, only the three of them in it, no explanations needed or given. If asked to explain it to someone else, and put it into words… Héctor isn’t sure what he might find himself saying. Nor is Imelda, and Héctor suspects it worries her more than it worries him. 

As long as no one else knows, they don’t need to explain a thing. Not even to themselves. 

Héctor chases away the thought and glances over at Ernesto, who’s still frowning at the mirror. “Think you can stop pouting anytime soon?”

“I’m not pouting, I--”

“Héctor, Ernesto!” Armando’s voice rings out from behind the door, followed by a knock. He opens the door without even waiting to be told he could come in, a clipboard in his hand. “The room is almost set up. A few rehearsals, then we start recording.”

Ernesto makes a face. “Do we have to?”

Armando raises an eyebrow at him. He has unusual, dark green eyes, and Ernesto muttered once - thankfully out of his earshot - that there is no way he’s not into men and that, under different circumstances, he could get him in his bed within a week. Héctor laughed, but was very careful not to ask what he’d meant with that about circumstances. 

That, too - Ernesto has slept with no one else other than them for several months now - is something he knows, but chooses not to dwell on. It’s for the best.

Entirely unaware of his thoughts, Armando is speaking to Ernesto. Slowly. “... Recording is generally an important step in putting together an album.”

“I mean the rehearsals.”

A sigh. “We’ve been over this. The answer is yes,” Armando says, and gives a light pat to the clipboard, like a judge slamming down the gavel after uttering a sentence. “Don’t pout like that, I’m certain you’ll enjoy yourselves. It’s our best recording studio. We start in fifteen minutes,” he adds. 

As he leaves, Héctor is unable to hold back a grin. “You do pout.”

“Chingate.”

“Oh, you wish you could do that,” Héctor replies, gaining himself a shove - but by the time they start playing to warm up, the pout is gone. Then they start recording and Ernesto plays with so much energy, the kind he only has before huge crowds, and it’s enough to chase any lingering shadows away from Héctor’s mind as he follows suit.

***

“... Huh. What’s that cabrón doing in the courtyard?”

“You’ll need to be more specific,” Imelda mutters without looking up from her tablet. She’s having a look at potential places to rent for a proper shop - best to think ahead and look at the options, now that things are looking so good for Héctor and Ernesto’s venture - and has already bookmarked a few interesting ones, all pretty close to home. “What cabrón? Could be Chicharrón, Gustavo, the guy from the fifth floor with the sweaty hands--”

“Gustavo,” Ernesto replies, still peering out of the window.

As though summoned, Héctor peers in from the kitchen. He’s been cooking - he can cook very few dishes, but they always turn out amazing - and Ernesto’s chihuahuas are following him around, eyes huge and pleading for scraps. Imelda wonders when was it, exactly, that she lost the battle to keep them out of at least some rooms of the apartment. 

“Cheech is not that bad,” he protests. “He’s a good guy, deep down.”

“He threatened to beat you with his prosthetic leg last Tuesday,” Imelda reminds him.

“Very deep down.”

“Couldn’t one say the same of Gustavo?”

“No,” Héctor and Ernesto say at the exact same moment. 

“Gustavo is a jerk,” Héctor adds, and looks at Ernesto. “And you say he’s in the courtyard? Like he actually lives here? The horror!”

Ernesto rolls his eyes. “No, I mean, what is he doing-- he’s… setting up a cage?”

“... He’s what now?” 

Within a moment they’re all at the window, pressed together to fit. It reminds Imelda, briefly, of one time they all perched on the same branch outside a window to listen to Padre Edmundo’s drunk-like singing after root canal treatment. 

But back then, they had seen nothing other than the drawn curtains. Now they can see what Gustavo de la Jerk is doing, and he is… setting up a cage, just like Ernesto said. Before Imelda can even begin to wonder why, Héctor opens the window and leans out. 

“Oye, Gustavo! Decided to camp out?” he yells. That causes Gustavo to turn up, and scowl. 

“Oh, ha ha. You should thank me!”

“And why? For ruining the flower bed?” Imelda asks, raising an eyebrow. A few steps from him, the flower bed in question is a trampled mess. 

“That wasn’t me, I’m trying to solve the problem here! Some stray Xolo dog keeps getting in somehow--”

“A Xolo dog?” Héctor repeats. 

“Oh, of course you didn’t notice, señor Head Stuck In Clouds! It comes in, sniffs around, makes a mess of all the plants. It’s worse than the rats your amigo brought in! Yelping all the time!”

“They have to be loud, pendejo,” Ernesto snaps back. “Someone has got to be of service and cover the noises you strangle out of that violin.”

A furious glare, but as he and Héctor just so happen to be the ones with a record label contract under their belt, he clearly decides not to argue. Instead, he points at the cage. “Well, at least I am trying to solve the issue with that thing. I’m catching it and calling animal control. Which is something the administrator should be doing,” he adds with a scoff. For a moment, Imelda can almost sympathize: Chicharrón is the worst possible choice for an administrator, and to this day she has no idea how he ended up with the role. She doubts he remembers it, either. 

Of course, her sympathy vanishes the next moment he speaks. 

“And besides, I haven’t seen you trying to solve a problem. Remember when you nearly set everything on fire with fireworks?”

“It was just Roman candles,” Héctor mutters, but he does look slightly sheepish; to be absolutely fair, the celebrations for Ernesto’s birthday got out of hand. Mostly because they had to make up for having… completely forgotten about it. 

It hadn’t been their fault, not really. Héctor was hopeless with dates, and Imelda… well, to be fair she had never really needed to memorize it. Ernesto would always start babbling about his upcoming birthday weeks in advance, bragging about the size of the party he was putting together and which would usually result in a lot of drunk people with very few memories of the previous night. 

This year, however - before they got the call for an appointment with the representatives of a record label, when it had looked like their career in music might never take off the way Ernesto had dreamed and that he was about to turn thirty without knowing real success - he just… hadn’t brought it up. At all. And neither her nor Héctor had remembered it until they were on the other side of Mexico City to buy some supplies for her workshop; only then had Héctor realized, in a sudden burst of clarity, that it was Ernesto’s thirtieth birthday.

He’d felt so bad they had returned sooner than planned, with cake and some Roman candles, only to meet Ernesto at the gate looking absolutely distraught, with four cranky chihuahuas in their carriers who wouldn’t even look at him. He’d been about to have a chocolate cupcake, he’d admitted, when he’d left to get a lighter to light up the lone candle on it and the dogs got to it.

He didn’t know which one of them had actually eaten it, panicked, and taken them all of the vet where they were made to vomit it all out before it got into their system. Which had made for four healthy but angry Chihuahuas, and an even more depressed Ernesto.

Who, however, significantly perked up at both the cake and the Roman candles. Especially when Héctor held up the candles with a wide grin.

“Shootout?” he asked, causing Ernesto to finally grin back.

“You’ll regret asking.”

What followed was a full-blown fight, with fireballs flying everywhere, yells and protests - “not my hair!” - as well as grumbling from several people with windows facing the yard. Imelda wasn’t supposed to join it, but of course she had in the end and of course she had won. 

They returned to Ernesto’s apartment laughing like idiots, clothes and hair just slightly singed, to finally have the damn cake. And a sandwich, later. An Ernesto sandwich specifically, a birthday present he seemed to appreciate very, very much.

And all along Imelda pretended not to have noticed, on the small table by his couch, the letter his mother had asked Héctor to give him - still sealed, but not destroyed as he’d said he would. Maybe at one point, when it wouldn’t be such a touchy subject--

“-- And anyway it’s not like anything caught fire!” Ernesto is yelling, bringing her back to the present and to the situation at hand, before he slams the window shut. “Cabrón,” he huffs. 

Héctor, on the other hand, looks thoughtful. “A stray Xolo,” he mutters. “Maybe the one who followed me in the park?”

“Not impossible, I guess.”

“Maybe it’s looking for me.”

Both Imelda and Ernesto turn to look at him, taken aback, and Héctor seems to shrink a little, as though embarrassed by what he just said. “I swear it’s the one I saw in Santa Ceci-- ow!” he protests when Ernesto rolls his eyes and smacks the back of his neck. 

“Come on, we talked about this. There’s no way a dog followed here from Santa Cecilia.”

“That’s it, pendejo, that’s the last you touch me this week,” Héctor grumbles. He glances at Imelda, clearly looking for support, but this time she can’t really give it.

“Lo siento, but he’s right. Santa Cecilia is much too far for any dog to have just followed you,” she says, and her husband sighs, deflating a little. 

“True,” he says. “I guess it’s impossible.”

*** 

“Well, today didn’t go too badly.”

“You almost let them drive our car.”

“Almost being the key word.”

“Only because I was there to stop you,” Imelda points out, and Héctor grins, leaning in to kiss her nose before leaning his head down on the pillow. 

“Story of our life,” he mutters, and pulls her in his arms. She rolls her eyes, but rests gladly against him, closing her eyes. A couple of doors away, in the guest room, there is a yelp and a loud thump. They both ignore it, because you learn to ignore a lot of things when Óscar and Felipe are involved. 

“You’re not doing too bad at all,” she murmurs against his skin. “My brothers are a handful.”

“They’re fun.”

“They’re a health and safety risk.”

“But the fun kind.”

A chuckle. “You didn’t grow up with them. I have seen things.”

“I grew up alongside Ernesto, though.”

“Fair,” she mutters, and yawns. “Is he still pouting?”

“He didn’t pout, Imelda,” he protests, then sighs when she pulls back to raise an eyebrow at him. “... All right, he pouted a little. He probably got so used to spending the night here, I wonder when he last even changed his bedsheets downstairs.”

“A little too used to it. He could use a reminder that we are the married couple and he’s--” The third wheel, Héctor thinks, but Imelda doesn’t say it aloud. Still, there is something guarded about her tone now. “This was meant to be a one-time thing, and-- temporary.”

For a moment Héctor is sure she’s about today they went too far, that they must call it off, and it’s like a weight has been dropped on his stomach-- a sense of loss that is much like pain, and dread of what telling Ernesto will be like. But then she speaks again, and she… doesn’t say that.

“The arrangement is… unorthodox. However long it lasts, it must stay a secret.”

Well, no arguing there. “I know.”

“And my brothers are quite terrible at keeping secrets.”

“Like when they decided to dab into being magicians but couldn’t resist telling everyone what the trick was?”

Imelda laughs. “Sí,” she says, running her hand through Héctor’s hair. “Something like that.”

They say nothing more and lean down against each other, skin on skin, their breathing quiet. But Héctor doesn’t fall asleep for another while and, he can tell, neither does Imelda.

***

It isn’t that Ernesto is having trouble sleeping. It’s just that-- that-- fuck it, he’s having trouble sleeping.

He picked his bed king-sized for two main reasons: firstly he often had guests to entertain and, secondly, he just plainly liked having space in the occasions when he’d sleep there on his own. Now it feels… too big. He can stretch out his arm and meet nothing but the mattress, and it irks him in a way he can’t put into words.

This is stupid, Ernesto thinks, knowing full well keeping their arrangement from her brothers or… anyone else is simply the smart thing to do. I’m having a crappy night and I bet they are too. I bet they’re getting nothing done without me. 

At least he hopes so, because if it turns out they took advantage of his absence for fun he’ll be distinctly annoyed. 

His dogs being there with him - mostly on top of him truth be told, one of them sprawled across more mattress than he had any right to occupy - helps to some extent, he supposes, because Imelda doesn’t allow them in bed with them and you know what, her loss. 

This isn’t too bad at all, he tells himself, and he finally falls asleep late at night. Only to be awakened, much too early for a Saturday morning, by screams.

“Mierd--” 

Thud.

“Ow!” As he lands on the hard floor, his dogs starting to bark hysterically, he can tell that the screams are coming from outside and not, as it seemed, from right next to his ear. Trying to ignore the way his heart keeps beating somewhere in his throat, Ernesto throws his window open and looks out. 

Inside the cage Gustavo left in the middle of the yard, there is a howling, hairless dog biting at the bars and bouncing around, rattling the metal. Well, look at that-- he managed to catch the stray. Problem solved, now it would be for animal control and… and… aaand apparently Héctor had some objections to it, because he was already running out of the block and into the yard, followed by two gangly teenagers who could only possibly be Imelda’s brothers. 

“Ah-ha! I finally got you! I-- hey! HEY! What are you doing, Rivera??”

Oh, of course, he should have known this would happen. With a sigh, Ernesto looks up to see Gustavo’s head poking out of his own window, looking constipated as always. Before he can yell something at him, he disappears from the window-- only to reappear half a minute later in the yard, running up to the trap right as Héctor and the twins manage to set the dog free. 

“Stop that! I have to call animal control!” Gustavo barks, only for Héctor to turn and glare at him. The dog is in his arms, tail wagging and ridiculously long tongue lolling. 

“Well, good news!” one of the twins exclaims.

“We got this sorted!” the other continues. 

“So no need for animal control! Isn’t that lucky?”

Gustavo looks moments away from a stroke. “You can’t--”

“Adopt a stray dog? I believe I can,” Héctor replies, and walks back to the block, dog in his arms and twins at his heels, leaving behind a fuming Gustavo. His triumphant smile, however, wavers when he gets beneath Ernesto’s window and meets his gaze. 

Ernesto raises an eyebrow. “Looks like you got a dog,” he says, his own chihuahuas jumping up against his legs. “Congrats.”

“Er… thanks.”

“It’s not coming anywhere near mine, to be clear.”

“Look, I haven’t thought it that far. I haven’t thought a thing, really. And-- ay, Imelda. I have no idea how I’ll tell Imelda this,” he goans. The dog wriggles in his arms, licking his face, and Ernesto smiles. 

“Hold on a minute, I’m coming,” he says. 

A relieved smile. “Ah, thanks! I could use some help--”

“I’m not going to miss the scene.”

“... Cabrón,” Héctor mutters, and Ernesto laughs, getting back in to reach for his trousers. He can hear, faintly, the twins talking. 

“Maybe if you tell her he saved you from that guy...”

“Or a pack of rabid coyotes…”

“Rabid coyotes, in the middle of Mexico City?”

“Oh! I know, he pulled you out of the way of a road accident!”

“If you tell her we were driving, she’ll believe it.”

“You could argue she has a cat, so you get a dog.”

“Would be fair!”

“If we wash it really well before she comes home and put a bow on him…”

“Didn’t work with the fox, though.”

“Well, it did eat her parrot.”

“But we’ll think of something!”

Ernesto can hear his best friend sighing as they moved to the entrance. “Thanks, muchachos,” he says, “but maybe it’s best if you don’t.”

*** 

“... Héctor.”

“Sí?”

“What have you got there?”

Héctor’s eyes shift to the plastic glass in his hand, the other still holding onto the makeshift collar to keep a very excited dog from jumping up to Imelda and cover her in slobber. Like he’s already done to everyone else in the room, Pepita included, leaving muddy pawprints on… everything. “Horchata,” he finally says. 

Imelda says nothing, but her own eyes shift to the dog. Then to the pawprints. Then on the smashed vase by the window, the victim of an enthusiastic tail wag. To the door leading to the bathroom, where - she can guess - a very much unwanted bath resulted in some noteworthy devastation. Eventually, her gaze pauses on the three faces peering at her from the doorwary. 

Two immediately disappear in a well-timed retreat. Ernesto stands his ground. 

“I tried to stop him,” he declares. 

“No,” Imelda says quietly, and with utmost certainty. “You did not.”

“I told him I don’t want that mangy thing anywhere near my pups. Counts as trying to stop him.”

“He’s not mangy,” Héctor’s protests. “He’s naturally hairless.”

“And very, very itchy,” Ernesto retorts. With the dog furiously scratching himself, and then starting to bite his own back leg, her husband knew better than to argue otherwise. 

“Well-- we’ll take him to the vet and get him checked over,” Héctor mutters.

Imelda smiles, a sweet kind of smile that never fails to make Héctor’s blood run cold. “Good idea. And what’s the plan after that, mi amor?” Her voice is rotting honey. At the doorway, she can see Ernesto is shifting uncomfortably and shrugging his shoulders.

You’re on your own, amigo, that shrug says. Her brothers are, of course, still gone from sight. Smart boys.

Héctor tries to answer with a sheepish smile. He looks far too nervous for that to work. “Uh, well. I mean, he’s purebred. Maybe he has an owner, the vet can check if he’s chipped.”

That could be a good point, Imelda almost concedes, but she shakes her head. “If you believed that, you would have let animal control handle it.”

“Well-- I didn’t want to let Gustavo win this one!”

Another good one. Imelda has to give him that. “... All right. We will take him to the vet. If he’s chipped and missing, good. If he’s not, it’s out of our hands and this is final.”

*** 

“A fungal infection. Really.”

“It’s not his fault! And-- look, we only need to take a few pills. It’s not like he has rabies.”

“Could have fooled me, with all that drool.”

“You’ve never seen a rabid dog, have you?”

“And I don’t plan to. Hey, if my hair starts falling off--”

“It won’t. It’s not mange, Ernesto. Just annoyingly itchy.” Héctor scratches his arm. “Anyway-- no microchip. That means no owner.”

“And that means he has nowhere to go!”

“And that means the pound!”

“And then death, of course!”

“He could very well be adopted--”

“And he needs medication!”

“For the fungal thing.”

“Will they keep up with his medication at all?”

“I bet they won’t bother.”

“Other dogs will bully him!”

“And steal his food!”

“And he’ll starve!”

“But no pressure.”

“None whatsoever.”

“... Thank God the two of you are going back to Santa Cecilia tomorrow.”

No reply, just two identical smiles. Behind them, Ernesto is almost sticking a fist in his mouth not to laugh - good for him, because if he does laugh he’ll never get back in the same bed as her. Héctor is smiling at her as well, tilting his head to the spot where the dog is sleeping, skinny legs sticking out in all directions and, most puzzling of all, with a purring cat over his chest. 

Traitor, Imelda thinks, but with no venom.

“Pepita likes him,” Héctor points out the obvious, delivering the lowest of low blows. Imelda draws in a deep breath. 

“... A week at most,” she finally says. Héctor smiles even more brightly and ah, damn him, he knows how much she loves that toothy smile of his.  

“A week,” he agrees. 

“And in that week, you’ll find him a home.”

“I will.”

“A home that is not ours.”

“Of course.”

“And you will not name him.”

“Aw, but--”

“No buts. If you name a street dog, you never get rid of it.”

“All right,” Héctor agrees, placing a hand on the dog’s. “No name.”

*** 

“Paco.”

“What?”

“He looks like a Paco.”

“He does not.”

“Loco, then.”

“That’s marginally more fitting, but too similar to Lobo’s name.”

“Who’s Lobo?”

“One of my-- do you just forget their names?”

“I known them collectively as the Chihuahua Pack.”

“... Fair.”

“How about… Perro!”

“And here I thought songwriters need to be creative.”

“Pelón? Or Tonto.”

“Both fit.”

“How about--”

“Dante.”

“Huh?” Both Imelda and Ernesto turn to glance at Héctor, who has just wrestled something out of the Xolo’s jaws. He holds up a chewed-up case of some old videogame he’s been re-playing recently, the title - Devil May Cry - barely readable. He grins.

“I say we call him Dante.”

*** 

Officially, they never decide to adopt Dante. It just sort of happens. If asked, Imelda will say they are waiting for a good home to come up for him - never mind they’re actually doing nothing to find it. So Héctor makes sure no one asks. 

The threat ‘if he eats one single shoe so help me’ remains a threat, because he never does go after shoes - the few times he got into her workshop, Pepita jumped on his head and led him into a chase, and he lost interest. He chews plenty of stuff - including a hair product Ernesto left at their place once - but never shoes. He never quite learns how to walk on a leash and pulls like a train, but Héctor can handle it without flying off after him. Most of the time. 

The fungal infection clears up, he is allowed to play with Ernesto’s chihuahuas, and the empty box of the medication they all used is thrown away, along with the instruction booklet full of details they didn’t really read.

Because really - who bothers with those?

***

“I had an idea.”

Héctor’s voice is little more than a gasp as he lays on the mattress, still panting, Imelda’s head on his shoulder and Ernesto’s arm across his chest. It causes Imelda to lift her head to glance down at him - her hair tickles, making him squirm.

Ernesto, on the other hand, groans. “Whatever it is, I’m spent. So can we discuss it--”

“You two should sing together!”

“... Right now? We can barely talk and--”

“No, no, not now! For the album!” he protests. Ernesto lifts himself on his elbows, and exchanges a baffled glance with Imelda before looking back down at Héctor. He rolls his eyes.

“There still is that song-- we could still use a female voice for it? And Armando’s idea to do a cover of La Llorona to have among the songs, you and Imelda could do it!”

She blinks. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not! You sing well together. I’m sure Armando will agree!”

“Last time we tried, it didn’t work out,” Ernesto points out, like he wasn’t there to see it.

“Because you tried to sing over each other! Now you have--” he trails off before the words - come a long way - can leave his mouth. It is true, he knows that, but it would still feel like saying too much. Part of him fears what they have will be soured and lost if they speak of it, if they put too much thought in it. 

The part of him that longs to turn everything beautiful in his life into music aches, but he knows it’s not to be. Best not to look for words. 

“... You have a chance to try again,” he finally says. He runs a hand through Imelda’s hair, shifts a little in Ernesto’s grip. “Third time’s the charm.”

“This would be the second time.”

“So, one step closer to the third,” Héctor grins, gaining himself a roll of the eyes and a flick on the nose. “Come on, we’ll try here. Just the three of us. If you suck, no one else will find out.”

Imelda gives a small smile, then she glances at Ernesto, and it turns into a grin. 

“If he can keep up,” she challenges, and of course it is the only push he needs.

*** 

“Ay de mí, Llorona, Llorona Llorona de azul celeste…”

Ernesto isn’t sure who between the three has moved to dance first - they were not supposed to dance, just to play and sing - but at the moment he finds it doesn’t really matter. They dance easily across the living room, he and Imelda singing and Héctor playing his guitar, dodging furniture, the dogs and cat and all their toys strewn about in Imelda’s once-pristine living room. 

“Y aunque la vida me cueste, Llorona No dejaré de quererte No dejaré de quererte…”

Imelda steps forward, chin tilted and eyes ablaze; he meets her with a stride forward of his own,  Héctor twirls with one last strum, and as they come to a standstill. As the last notes of the song fade, the words - no dejaré de quererte! - echo in his mind for a long, long moment. 

Then Héctor lets out a grito, Imelda laughs, and Ernesto only joins her a moment later. He didn’t like Imelda getting involved with music last time - she’d been invading, he felt, what should have been something only he and Héctor shared. But now, he finds he doesn’t mind.

If things stay this way forever, he won’t mind. He won’t mind at all.

***

[On to Part 14]

[Back to Part 12]

***

Also by Dara: Doggie May Cry. 

[marshmallowbee13]

OC Interview

(I'm going to do one for each of my fan apprentices)

Choose an OC. 

2. Answer them as that OC.

3. Tag 5 people to do the same.

Tagged by no one but I'm doing it anyway

Tagging everyone who never gets tagged in these things. Also @classlesstulip because I want to know everything about Ty.

1. What is your name?

•Ramona Flores Ramirez Devorak

2. Do you know why you are named that?

•Nope

3. Are you single or taken?

•I'm currently in a relationship with Asra Alzanar and Julian Devorak

4. Have any abilities or powers?

•I'm fairly skilled at reading tarot, making potions, and gardening

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

•Say that to my chancla, pendejo!

6. What’s your eye color?

•Brown

7. How about your hair color?

•Again, brown

8. Have any family members?

•I have my cousins, Manny and Marisol!

9. Oh? How about pets?

•I have a Xolo dog named Xochi! She's a sweetheart.

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now, tell me something you don’t like?

•Goats, Big bugs, Valerius...

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies you like to do?

•I love to cook! My tamales are the best in Vesuvia!

12. Have you hurt anyone in any way before?

•You mean other than breaking a bottle over my future husband's head when we met? Not that I can think of. Though I was this 👌 close to decking Valerius a few times.

13. Ever…killed anyone before?

•No...?

14. What kind of animal are you?

•I don't know, why don't you ask Julian 😎

15. Name your worst habits?

•I sleep in a lot.

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

•Nadia's a good role model, as is Asra. (Julian: She looks up to everyone 'cause she's so short!)

17. Are you gay, straight, or bisexual?

•I am bi, though I do tend to lean more towards men

18. Do you go to school?

•No, but Asra gave me a pretty good education when I came back. Also, the palace library has a lot of books on a lot of subjects, so I tend to get my newer education there.

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

•Yes to all of it. I want at least five kids.

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

•No, I don't think so.

21. What are you most afraid of?

•Forgetting everything again.

22. What do you usually wear?

A frilly, off-the-shoulder top, yellow sash, and red skirt. Shoes are optional.

23. What’s one food that tempts you?

•Julian's d- That cactus dish Asra and I had in Nopal

24. Am I annoying to you?

•No, I like answering questions!

25. “Well, it’s still not over!”

•Okay

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

•Middle class

27. How many friends do you have?

•I have Portia and Nadia and Bread guy and Muri

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

•You have pie? Do I get some? Where's the pie, OP?!

29. Favorite drink?

•Hot chocolate with cinnamon

30. What’s your favourite place?

•I like going to the docks and looking over the water or talking to the sailors

31. Are you interested in anyone?

•A very special magician and an overly dramatic Doctor 💖

32. That was a stupid question…

•It's fine.

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

•Ocean. Lakes tend to be slimy and filled with leeches

34. What’s your type?

•Do I have a type? Asra and Julian seem so different, but we make it work.

35. Any fetishes?

•Oh, boy... Well, I do like pirate roleplay with Julian and omg when Asra teases me until I'm a begging, whining mess...

36. Camping or outdoors?

While I don't enjoy being eaten alive by bugs, there's something special about falling asleep under the stars

[bumblingbrujo]

Human Again || Cassie, Iann, & Miguel

Addie stretches her baby witch magic and fixes her uncle. 

@ianncardero, @cassiegermaine

Iann ended up staying the night at Miguel's, since the Inn was pretty quiet right now and Freddie was there to look after it. Which wasn't bad; he just roved through Miguel's kitchen, ate his food, used his shower, wore his clothes. Let the dogs follow around as they pleased. But sleep didn't come easily. Whenever Iann drifted, images of a giant golden xolo-esque dog invaded his dreams. And since Iann hardly ever remembered his dreams, he startled awake every single time. "Dammit..." Iann said, shifting and grumbling before drifting again. The golden dog loomed around the edges of his semi-lucid mind - but it was washed over by bright energetic pink, and the scent of strawberries and then -- "Addie. Miguel - we should - we should go see Addie, huh? What time is it..." Iann looked at his watch, then got up. "Seven am? Good enough. Let's go pick up coffee and a hot chocolate for Pegs and then head over there."

Miguel hadn’t slept well either. Maybe it was just the fact that he was a dog. But everything was loud. Everything smelled too much. The word was harsh and sharp against him and he couldn’t block it out. When Iann woke up he got up easily and followed after him. Molly curled up in her bed. It didn’t seem like she would be joining them. The van was becoming all to familiar to Miguel’s dog body. And he settled in easily for the ride.

Iann stopped first at the coffee shop on the way; and given the time of day and the look on Iann's face, the barista knew his order by heart - large coffee and an extra-large hot cocoa with whip and chocolate curls. He gave Miguel a pat on the head, then said sorry for petting his brother, and got them to Cassie's place. Iann texted her first - [TXT] HEY I'm outside your place. Me and Miguel. He's a dog. Open up. - and then hopped up the stoop and waited for Cassie to open the door. Ringing the doorbell or knocking might wake Addie up, and he didn't want to off the kid's schedule.

Cassie was up anyways, because much to her dismay the toddler was an early riser. But it was still weird to be getting a buzz from her phone this early in the morning. When Cassie saw it was from Iann, she frowned deeply, wondering if she’d forgotten something they planned together. It didn’t exactly seem like it. Cassie rubbed her eyes, still in her pajamas when she opened the door. She peeked out seeing Iann standing right there, Cassie startled back a step, “Oh Jesus. What’s going on? I know about Miguel being a dog. Did you find something out?” Her gaze drifted and she pointed, eyebrow raising slightly, “Hot chocolate?”

"Oh right. And here he is," Iann said, presenting Miguel and letting the dog-brother trot inside. "I have an idea. Well I had a dream, but I don't really remember the dream anymore or why I felt the need to come over here..." He handed the hot chocolate to Cassie as he shrugged off his jacket, taking himself into her living room. "...but it occurred to me that maybe - like because you're a wolf, right? And sometimes wolves can communicate with like fairy familiars and the like. I figured maybe if you turned into a wolf, you could talk with Miguel, hm? Although I'm not sure if Miguel has anything any more figured out than I do..." Iann scratched at his chin, unsure where he was going with this. "Addie around?"

Cassie frowned slightly as Iann started to ramble on about a dream. She was having trouble following this particular train of thought, but she let him and Miguel inside anyways. When Iann explained part of the plan Cassie winced slightly, “I mean, I guess I could do that.” It was just so…early. “But who’s to say it’d work? It’s not like I understand the dogs or anything.” Iann made it sound easy, for god sakes. She sighed and gave a quick shrug looking down somewhat guiltily at Miguel, “We can try.” When Iann inquired about Addie she motioned, “She’s in the kitchen, eating cream of wheat. I’ll be amazed if she didn’t dump it all over the floor. In the two minutes I stepped away.”

It was early, Cassie was right. And Iann hadn't gotten a lot of sleep last night, so he was a little discombobulated himself. He drank some more of his coffee, listening to Cassie cast her typical doubt - but for once in this case, Iann agreed with her. "I suppose that's true..." Iann said, in grudging but truthful agreement. He shook his head. "Well, let's go say good morning to Addie then, she's already awake huh? Besides, I have her hope chest in my van still. I'm pretty sure this curse on Miguel was the last of its tricks....you think it's okay for me to give it back to her?" Iann blinked and snapped his fingers. "Hey! Is that cat familiar around? Maybe it can take a look at the hope chest, you know. One final spot check."

Cassie frowned slightly as Iann started to ramble on about a dream. She was having trouble following this particular train of thought, but she let him and Miguel inside anyways. When Iann explained part of the plan Cassie winced slightly, “I mean, I guess I could do that.” It was just so…early. “But who’s to say it’d work? It’s not like I understand the dogs or anything.” Iann made it sound easy, for god sakes. She sighed and gave a quick shrug looking down somewhat guiltily at Miguel, “We can try.” When Iann inquired about Addie she motioned, “She’s in the kitchen, eating cream of wheat. I’ll be amazed if she didn’t dump it all over the floor. In the two minutes I stepped away.”

Miguel thought about that for a moment. Maybe Cassie would be able to understand him as a wolf, maybe not. He was surprised that he has been able to communicate with the selfie. Wolves seemed easier than seals. But maybe just being in the same room was enough in a way. He didn’t think she would get much more by changing shape, not if she could read his body language with the attuned eye of a canid. He was tired and nervous and he wanted to be a biped again.

“This is the safest place for the chest at this point I’d say.” Cassie agreed, a sort of roundabout way of telling Iann to bring it back in from his van at somepoint. “You really think it was a just a one time trick? I think its better Miguel stays away from the chest from now on, don’t you?” That was really more rhetorical as Cassie headed back into the kitchen. The floor was clean, but the baby was not, and Cassie’s expression only fell slightly when she picked up a towel to start wiping away the smears of breakfast. “I don’t know about the cat. Maybe in Addie’s room? Addie where’s your kitty?”

Iann left Cassie and Miguel in the kitchen, heading to the van and returning with the hope chest. But he caught Cassie's last comment about Miguel staying away from the chest. "I think it's fine, I mean. So long as he doesn't try to touch it again, hm?" But as Iann put the chest down on the kitchen table, he watched Addie's face light up in delight. She wanted to touch it, it seemed, like she instantly recognized that it needed to be with her. And that was when it hit Iann - the dream, and the selkie's words: you must go back to the source. "Waitaminute. Ay dios mio, the solution's been here all along. It wasn't Melena, she wasn't the source of this magic. It's - well I hate to break it to you guys, but I think the source of the curse? Is Addie. I don't think she did it on purpose, but...I think she's maintaining it. That's why it hasn't broken yet, even though Melena's long dead. It's because of Addie's magic."

Miguel wagged his tail and stood close to where Addie was in her high chair. He loved his little niece and he wouldn’t even be surprised if she’s could fix this. Maybe he would be a little surprised. She was strong at magic but bad at directing it sometimes. Turning him back into a witch would be harder than levitating a cookie in any case.

While Iann was out retrieving the chest, Cassie finished up cleaning and kept simple albeit mostly one sided conversation going between her, Addie, and Miguel. The toddler’s eagerness over the hope chest, mostly unsurprising to Cassie. After all, the little red head had always happily claimed it as hers. Cassie’s brows furrowed in something like offence though as a new thought process came across Iann’s working mind. “What are you-“ She was about to start scolding him, shifting the blame on Addie, but then he explained better in his slightly delayed ‘Iann’ way. Cassie looked curiously between Addie and the Xolo dog. She hoisted the girl out of the high chair and placed her on the floor. “How about you go say hello to your Tio okay?” And Addie seemed to understand something, because she went right over to dog!Miguel and started patting his ears, laughing softly.

Miguel leaned into Addie’s pats. He could feel her magic. Which was different and refreshing than the rest of his time as a dog. He looked at Addie with sad eyes and tried to convey to her the big job that he needed her to do.

Iann watched with wide eyes, glancing at Cassie with a 'will this work?' look. Addie seemed to inherently recognize Miguel though, showing no fear as she toddled over and pet the witch. "Say Addie, this is Tio Miguel. He's very sad as a doggie. He wants to be grown up again...." Taking the hope chest, Iann gingerly placed it on the floor between the dog and the baby. "We want Tio Miguel, hm? We all want Tio Miguel. Go Adelita, let's see Tio Miguel!"

Addie glanced between Iann and Cassie as they encouraged her. Her attention wavering back and forth much like a toddlers would. She muttered ‘Tio’ a few times, still petting the dog with one hand and trying to pry the chest open with her other, but the girls had coordination still wasn’t the best yet. Cassie took a deep breath trying to think of another way to get across what they needed from the little girl. “Addie, we have to find Tio-“ She covered her eyes and quickly removed her hands so Addie could see her again, “Where is he?” Addie blinked largely before laughing again and clapping her hands, “Here! Here Tio!”

Addie laughed and hugged her tio after she clapped, still laughing a little. She thunked her forehead into Miguel’s and the magic danced between them. In a moment he was on his knees. “Oh thank god.” He pulled his niece, the best niece ever, into a hug and felt reprieve at the feeling of his own magic, and the magic sense that flowed between them. Addie was a light in a dark place and holding the little witch calmed him down. “You did great brujita.”

It happened so fast, Iann felt like he blinked and missed it. But then that was tied to the nature of Addie's infant, uncontrolled powers - that raw energy in the babywitch that just made things...happen. She was like the genie from I Dream of Genie. And when Miguel actually spoke, though, Iann gave an un-ironic bark of triumph. He looked over at Cassie with huge eyes. "She did it. She did it, Miguel - how do you feel? Lemme take a look - " Iann said, ungracefully descending to his knees on the kitchen floor, to look poke at his brother. Look into his big dark eyes (Iann only realized then how much the dog-Miguel's eyes looked as warm and soft as the human-Miguel), check his pulse, etc - ironic considering Miguel was the doctor. "Still craving milkbones and the urge to lick your own butt?"

One moment Miguel was a dog, and then he wasn’t. Cassie blinked, staring between him and Addie for a few moments before she scoffed at Iann’s own probing questions. She waved Addie back over to her, lifting the girl into her arms and looking her over. “Good job baby. You’re so smart.” She wished she could ask the toddler how she managed it. But it had to be some sort of instinct or natural inclination. Either way Cassie was impressed, pleased, and just the slightest bit jealous. She turned back to Miguel, “You’re ok? What was that like? I mean, she just changed you, simple as that.”

Miguel let Addie go, looking a little sad as he did. And then he stumbled to his feet, one hand on Iann's shoulder to keep his balance. "I don't know. I couldn't feel magic the same way as a dog. I could feel a little of Addie's, maybe because it was the same magic that was upkeeping the spell..." He shook his head and got a little dizzy from the movement. The after taste of the curse was odd and clung to him in a bitter way, like dandelion leaves.

"She's tied to Melena's magic...in fact she's literally the only connection to that old bat's magic - no offense Pegs - and I don't know why I didn't think of it before. That she could break the curse," Iann chided himself, although why would he think of Addie. She was a baby. And even though he knew she had spurts of reactive magic, breaking a curse was far more complicated and advanced than moving cake. But every magical act had a cost. And maybe it was easier for a baby to work with an already established spell? Who knew. For now, Iann just held onto Miguel, dusting the smaller man off. "You want something? Water? Something delicious for a human palette?"

“No offense taken.” Cassie said flatly, except now she had other worries. The curse was connected to Addie. So that meant she’d never technically broken it? Cassie didn’t think it was over just because the toddler turned her Uncle from a dog back into a human. That was too easy, and if Melena’s tricks proved anything it was that they were irrational and multifaceted. Cassie chewed her lip, trying to push the thoughts away at the moment, “I can make breakfast.” Cassie offered. “If you’re hungry.”

Miguel made his way to the kitchen counter so he could lean on something a little sturdier. "I don't think I should put anything in my stomach yet," he said softly. "Thank you though, Cassie."

"Just siddown before you fall down," Iann said, hauling over one of Cassie's kitchen chairs and plonking Miguel in it. He leaned against the counter then, arms folded. "I'll take some coffee," he said hopefully to Cassie. "My coffee got cold. Then I might as well get Miguel home, I'm sure his dog wants to see him."

“Sure.” Cassie said grabbing Iann’s travel mug and filling it with hot coffee from the pot on the stove. She’d already made some, but Iann arrived with the hot chocolate before she could pour her own cup. “Well, welcome back.” She smiled softly at Miguel, and her gaze shifted back to Iann, “I’ll return the hot chocolate mug later today. Are you gonna keep an eye on Miguel for a while?”

"Thanks," Iann said to Cassie, and then raised a questioning eyebrow at Miguel. "I dunno. Am I?" he asked his brother.

Miguel shrugged a little. He didn't think he needed watching. "I think I'll be fine after a nap, just get me home."