likeakiss

[likeakiss]

There's something in the defiant set of Jack's shoulders, the unyielding nature of his gaze, that makes Joaquin chuckle - on somebody else, the sound could almost be interpreted as fond. Jack may be older, more refined, but he can still see the boy he met sixteen years ago so clearly, the kid that didn't know how to pick his battles and wound up fighting all of them. He's always been a brat, but isn't that part of what Joaquin liked about him? He has spirit. Tenacity. It's no fun if they don't fight back. "You ain't changed a bit," he says, and how it gratifies him to know it.

Taking advantage of the circumstances, Joaquin gives Jack's lapel one last tug before taking his hand away, though he doesn't forfeit any of the space he's claimed between them. Let Jack be the one to step back, see how long that resolve of his will hold out. "Ah, that was the old days. Things are a bit different with me in the driver's seat - better, you might say." In the four years he's been in charge, the Jolly Rogers have prospered, and Joaquin is far from finished. "'Course, you'd know that if you hadn't run away. Like a bitch."

“You think I’d waste a single penny on a new suit for your funeral?” Jack stands his ground, even if years of experience and a newly acquired sense of self-preservation are urging him not to. But things have changed since their last meeting. Jack has both gun and badge to back him up now, as well as a team of officers who’d die for him no questions asked. The Crooked Hand’s iron tight grip around his throat has loosened considerably, the playing field more even.

A gaggle of noisy teenagers brush past them on their way out of a nearby shop, temporarily convincing Jack to resist the urge to swipe Joaquin’s hand away. He’s not in uniform. It’s safer to not cause a scene. “They’re paying me more than you greedy fucks ever did. It’s all about employee satisfaction. You should try it. Maybe you’d have fewer people gunning to leave a bullet in your brain.”

#joaquin: with jack #baiting him? couldn't be me

[likeakiss]

hc + 🗡 for a weapon-themed headcanon

Even though he's trained to use a frankly staggering number of weapons, Joaquin would always rather use his hands. It's how he started out, long before he'd heard of the Jolly Rogers, knocking out teeth and breaking the noses of anyone that looked at him funny.

#joaquin: asks #joaquin: about #violence tw

[likeakiss]

La Biennale di Venezia Benjamin Bratt

#joaquin: face #can't babygirlify this one #he's just hot

[likeakiss]

"Ace, we've known each other long enough at this point that I reckon you could probably draw me with your fucking eyes shut. You could get away with never lookin' at me ever again." Obviously he doesn't love being stared at, but Joaquin has spent enough time with Asa over the years to have a relatively firm grasp on all his weird quirks. It's amazing what a person can learn to live with.

He leans back in his chair, taking a long drag of his cigarillo as he performs a spine-popping stretch. "Can I level with you?" Joaquin asks, though he continues without pause, "I'm bored. Bored of this treaty, bored of playing nice with Viktor Liddell, bored of followin' all these fuckin' dogshit rules. It's time to do something - can't you feel it?"

"Maybe I just wanted to stare?" Asa is only teasing - leaning against the doorframe with arms tucked into the pockets of his suit. In reality, the underboss does have a penchant for unsettlingly long gazes. Sometimes he sort of drifts out of focus and has to re-center. Comes with the whole 'mental institution' thing. The whole 'got my head knocked around and buzzed up' thing. "Just coming to check in, darling. How're you?"

#joaquin: with asa

[likeakiss]

"Whatever you want to call it, darlin', it's still drivin' me mad, so I'm going to politely suggest that you give it a fuckin' rest." He takes a long drag of his cigarillo and then sets it in the nearby ashtray, which is already littered with the stubs of all the others he's smoked this afternoon. Office days are always a test of Joaquin's limited patience, and he's in no mood to field petty complaints.

Still, if it gets Charlotte out of his doorway and brings an end to her pacing, he supposes he can allow her to take a seat while she waits for her call to come in. "Fine, but I don't want to hear any more whinging about phone service or cheap burners or anything else, for that matter. Got it?"

With that said, Joaquin sits back in his chair, knowing he won't get anything else done until he's alone again, regardless of how quiet Charlotte is. Besides, he misses his own days as a hired gun, and the mention of her next mark has piqued his interest, "Why don't you tell me about your contract. Redgrave, ain't it?"

“I’m not lurking,” Lottie doesn’t snap, she’s too controlled for that. Besides, she’s been pacing – totally different from lurking. “The cell service in this building is horrendous, it's only decent up here and I’m waiting for a call about a contract nearby.” She lingers in the doorway for a moment longer before stepping in hesitantly. “Of course it’s the best in here,” she mumbles, “shitty fucking burner cell because Mio has to be cheap.” Her personal phone works perfectly, of course, so Lottie sighs then looks over at Joaquin with her very best doe eyes. “May I pretty please sit in here? If I don’t hear from them in the next five minutes I’ll call it and figure out another approach. You’ll barely know I’m here.”

#joaquin: with charlotte

[likeakiss]

There is a question in the quirk of Joaquin's brow, but Sal seems to have anticipated it, as she so often does, and the reason she gives for her reappearance only serves to make him frown. The problem isn't with her, of course not - Joaquin would never admit it, but this whole fucking enterprise would probably fall apart without Sal - but he resents the appearance of yet more paperwork for him to wade through.

"Fuck's sake," he says, picking up the folder and pulling out the front page, caring little for its contents save the signature that's been scanned in at the bottom. "Tariq, again. He's taking the fucking piss out of me now - am I not being clear enough to these people? It ain't a fuckin' school I'm running here, if I ask for a report, I want it done lickety-fuckin'-split. Disrespectful little prick."

"I hope you told him this is his last chance, Sal. One more late report with his name on it, and he'll be hearin' from me directly."

He probably hadn't really expected Sal to come back so soon, but she'd forgotten a (late) turned-in report that she'd managed to rewrite for him and she was all for punctuality... so it was getting to him now. She had hovered, perhaps, to see if he was busy but it seemed she had done so too long, "Sorry, Boss."

The tone was nonchalant and mono — as she often was when business was at hand. The file was slid across his desk, "Had a bit of a late turn-in but didn't want you to have to wait, so here we are?"

Salome was good to the man she referred to — affectionately, she might add — as 'Boss' above all other things. It was respect and familiarity all in one. She always made sure his files were succinct and things wouldn't get twisted in his reading, "I can piss off and get out of your hair now."

There was a wry smile across her features.

#joaquin: with salome

[likeakiss]

headcanon 001. although he has never been formally diagnosed (seeing as he rarely bothered going to school, and even when he did, it was still the seventies), joaquin struggles with severe dyslexia. he's pretty good at diverting attention from it as he goes about his day-to-day, but you'll never actually see him writing or reading a report, preferring to hand them off to be deciphered by sal instead.

unsurprisingly, joaquin is extremely sensitive about his learning difficulties, and even alluding to them is an excellent way to earn his ire, along with the violence that typically accompanies it. basically, don't.

#joaquin: about #joaquin: with sal

[likeakiss]

"I'm always busy," Joaquin points out. He'd been only too happy to take the position of Crooked Hand when it was offered to him all those years ago, but nothing could've prepared him for the amount of bureaucracy involved in running a gang. Yes, he keeps his house in order - in fact, he works like a fucking dog to do so - but it means he's never really off the clock.

Understanding the look Javier gives him well enough, but unwilling to speak in double entendres in his own fucking office, Joaquin nods and sets down his pen. "Close the door." Once the outside world is safely shut away, he pushes out the chair opposite his desk with the toe of his boot, indicating that the other man should take a seat. "How much are we talkin'? And which buyer? I ain't doing business with Blomstedt again, she fucked us last time."

"You seemed busy," hands in his pockets, the smuggler happily waltzes in. He has some good news, but of course that can wait til Captain Hook's done with his reading. There are a few weeks before Valentine's Day, which is one of their busiest reselling moments, after Christmas and Mother's Day. People love to buy old junk for their loved ones. So does he, he thinks it's more charming than a soulless brand new thing. "We have a buyer for ..." He gives him a pointed look. The Chopard heist. The investigation is replaced by another. The more they take, the less the police knows where to search and cold cases are born. "I'm waiting on my contact in Switzerland; but they're paying in advance."

#joaquin: with javier

[likeakiss]

That's what Joaquin likes to hear - no fuss, no frills, just the confirmation of a job well-done. He plucks his cigarillo from between his lips, exhaling a smoky breath as Nihira's report arrives in front of him. It'll go to Sal before he even bothers to look at it.

Without taking his eyes off her, he slides his lighter (a weighty, vintage thing) off the desk, and tosses it her way. "You needn't look so tense, Hira. I ain't gonna bite your head off if you've come here with good news."

nihira has been with the jolly rogers her entire adult life, she knows when not to linger, and despite her brash and bulky attitude ( and not to mention uniform ) she knows when to be quiet. she walks up the stairs, burn marks on her hands and the craving for a cigarette when she walks through the door with her own report in her hands. she's on edge, but she thinks that's her natural baseline is to consistently be on edge. she drops it on the desk, "no major injuries, vanishing the evidence went fine." she says, grabbing a cigarette from her pocket and lightning it. "got a light?"

#joaquin: with nihira

[likeakiss]

where: marisol's flat (southwark) when: evening (valentine's day) with: @marisolsshine

Joaquin is on the phone when he lets himself into Marisol's flat; all business, even on Valentine's Day. He'd taken two weeks off to take his girlfriend on the holiday of a lifetime, and now he's back it feels like there's more shit for him to shovel than ever before - god forbid the Crooked Hand gets a moment of peace to enjoy the fruits of his fucking labour.

"No fucking excuses, Jimmy, if he ain't started singing by the time I get back, it's your arse on the line, you hear me? If you need a refresher on how we deal with incompetence in this organisation, I'd be more than happy to send Mik over to remind you." Rather than listen to Jimmy's pathetic gibbering, Joaquin holds the phone away from him, covering the receiver with his hand as he calls deeper into the flat. "Sweetheart, are you ready? The car's waiting!"

#joaquin: with marisol

[likeakiss]

Happy Valentine's Day, lucita. Besos, Joaquin

@marisolsshine

#joaquin: with marisol

[likeakiss]

where: the crooked hand's office (l'antique, c'est chic) when: open! with: open (jolly rogers)!

"Well, you've officially been lurkin' in my doorway for five minutes, and that's about as long as I can stand," Joaquin says, finally glancing up from deciphering the report Sal had left on his desk, the customary cigarillo dangling from his bottom lip, "So, whatever you've got to say, spit it out, or piss off back downstairs."

#lfl.starter #sort of an open starter #but also sort of not

[likeakiss]

What is your biggest regret?

"Gettin' hitched," Joaquin answers with a bark of rueful laughter, "I mean, fuck, nobody wanted me and Sweeney to get married, everyone told us what a shit idea it was, but did we listen? 'Course not."

They were in love. Fucked up as it was, and as much as Joaquin has hated her at times, the truth of his heart was undeniable. The mistake had been trying to do the conventional thing, forcing the monster that was their relationship into a neat little package called 'wife' and expecting it to work. They should've known better.

"Maybe if everyone had been a bit more encouraging, we mightn't've bothered. I think they call it 'reverse psychology', and it could've saved me a fuckin' packet in legal fees."

#joaquin: about #joaquin: asks #joaquin: with sweeney todd

[likeakiss]

Are you happy in your current relationship?

"That's a stupid fuckin' question. Do I look like the sort of bloke that would stay with someone if I wasn't happy?"

And it isn't that Joaquin's unhappy with Marisol - she's beautiful, young, and unspoiled in a way that many of the people he deals with aren't. Her innocence allows him to get away with a great deal, all while reaping the benefits that come from having someone to turn to at the end of a long day, and that isn't nothing.

That being said, she's very different from anyone else he's been with for any significant length of time. All the other lovers he's had would just as soon slit his throat as suck his cock, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss the excitement. In that regard, she'll never be able to completely satisfy him - she's just too soft.

#joaquin: about #joaquin: asks #joaquin: with marisol

[likeakiss]

fmk- the assassins

“Fucking hell, I wouldn’t marry any of ‘em, I’ve learnt my lesson from last time,” Joaquin says with a smoky laugh, reaching for his drink, “But if I had to pick, I s’pose it’d be Charlotte - she’s decent to look at, and I reckon the shock would kill her parents, leaving us with all their money.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t fuck any of the lads, none of them are my type… gun to my head I guess I’d say Miodrag, out of curiosity, and then I’d kill Bora, since he doesn’t fuck men at all.”

#joaquin: about #joaquin: asks

[likeakiss]

Joaquin Vidal doesn't believe in coincidences. Their paths were always going to cross again eventually, there was never a doubt in his mind about that. He isn't the sort of man you escape from. He's an inevitability, and that is especially true in the case of Jack Seo. "Now, is that any way to speak to me, you cheeky fucker?" He replies, his smile all teeth, sharp like a knife. There won't be a fight, not in this part of London, where the streets are choked with so many hapless tourists.

"If I'd been fired, mijo, we wouldn't be havin' this conversation, you'd be busy picking out your suit for my fuckin' funeral." He takes a step forward then, directly into the other man's space, and reaches to smooth a hand over the lapel of his jacket, tutting his disapproval, "Though I thought I'd taught you a bit better than this. What's happened, the MET ain't payin' you properly?" Letting Jack know that he's been keeping tabs, that even though they haven't spoken in years, he hasn't been forgotten.

who: @likeakiss where: oxford street, early afternoon

"Fuck me you've aged." It's been almost two years since they've last spoken, and many more since Jack betrayed his oath and left the Jolly Rogers. At the time he'd done it under the guise of wanting to get clean -- an endeavour he'd realised to be pointless soon after the first time he'd checked into rehab, but crawling out from Joaquin Vidal's suffocating grasp had perhaps been the real reason.

That they're thrown back together by a chance encounter now, standing face-to-face in the midst of an otherwise heaving pavement, is a delicious kind of irony. "You finally get fired from your position as head bitch?"

#joaquin: with jack

[likeakiss]

𝐣𝐨𝐚𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥     ⸻    ❝ he hit me and it felt like a kiss. ❞

↳ about | face | mood | music | pinterest