Mayor Luis Espino

[mayor-espino]

safiyedurmaz​:

.

Safiye remained where she was sat for a moment or so longer, nodding along at Luis’ comments and making a few quick notes on the ever-growing pile of papers she’d amassed to do with this event. It was too important to leave to chance, to leave to anyone else, so she’d see to it herself and get all these papers backed up digitally later. Then, once she was finished, that was her cue to turn her attention back to Luis, setting down the papers and picking up her iPad instead, twisting in her seat to look at him. “Yes, lets”

She’d picked those she’d worked for carefully, that first shoe in the door from her father had given her a running start, and then it was a few carefully calculated choices that got her here, working for someone she felt sure could make it all the way into the top office, and who would owe her a great deal for her part in making it all happen. “The general election is a while out still, but I took the liberty of putting out some feelers, seeing if there’s anyone sat pretty in a safe seat that’s thinking it’s about time for retirement” Connections were king in a world such as this. “But I was thinking, a by-election would get you in even sooner, set you up for a serious go at party leader whenever you think you have the support for it, you could be mayor and an MP all at once, it has been done before” Though she didn’t need to say the rumours she would need to dig out and leak about some one or other of the Labour Party’s own MPs to get someone to stand down now.

.

"Yes, we have plenty of time before the election,” which meant she had plenty of time to get some scandal out, something for the public to get the pitchforks and the torches for the others and rolling down the red carpet for him. At least, that was the plan. God knew what would actually happen.

The mayor sat down on one of the two small couches on his office, kicking his shoes off and propping his feet up on the cushions. “We can probably count on a few of them retiring, but we could use endorsements too,” he nodded, picking up his coffee cup and getting lost for a moment in the brown liquid, his thoughts drowning there for a few moments. He had yet to tell her about his dating life. At first, he figured it was best to wait for things to get serious, and then he had figured he’d rather have something, someone all to himself. No PR, no journalists, nothing. When all the things you did, said, chose, were analyzed, decoded, plastered over newspapers, tv and radio channels, you grew to cherish every secret you could keep. “I suppose I could do both. What do I have to lose trying to juggle with both?” And this was why he had deputies and such.

[mayor-espino]

safiyedurmaz​:

“So, we’ll strike that off the menu ideas then?” Helping with the planning of some fundraising dinner wasn’t exactly within the scope of her job, but the presence of a select few higher ups involved with the press had meant Safiye had gone and deemed it as such anyway. That, and there was nothing wrong with helping out, nothing wrong with ensuring you were invaluable. “The food isn’t meant to be the centrepiece, but if we don’t make sure it’s good then it’ll steal the spotlight in the worst way possible”

“I suppose we can do that. Theo won’t like it, but he already puts his grain of salt on the menus at home,” and Luis wasn’t in the habit of putting his husband first when it came to hosting professional dinners. “Exactly. People will remember if they ate well before they remember anything else,” the mayor picked up his coffee cup and stood up from his desk, heading toward the couch. On his way to this new place of comfort, he grabbed a notebook and a pen, and having now sat down without making a mess, laid his back against the arm rest, kicking off his shoes next. “Now, let’s get down to real business,” they had been working toward the next parliamentary elections, and more importantly, getting him to sit at the top of the party. This was his key to Downing street here. All he had to do was get rid of the man who was in place and get rid of the current PM. August Finley might have been a joke to him, he was not detested enough just yet to get kicked out of prime ministership. Yet.

[mayor-espino]

meaganfinley​:

Meagan peers over the menu at the mayor, a look in her eyes that can only show how her mind has focused on a completely different direction than what recipe is taken, but what is in the recipe itself. “Given how many antibiotics are injected into cattle these days, I can’t say the way they cook it matters much at all anymore,” she advises before her eyes sweep back down through the items, closing it a moment later. “I haven’t seen a single mention of where they source any of their meats, actually. I doubt any of these waiters will be knowledgeable enough to give an honest answer, too.”

"And who’s fault is that,” she knew what he meant by that. The Conservatives kept pushing farmers further and further in a system that forced them to feed cattle with medicine, and did their best to discourage the rise of organic farming, ethical farming and anything that went against economic growth. Fucking morons.

Luis ticked his tongue and shook his head as she spoke so lowly of their waiters. “Well it wouldn’t hurt to ask.” He raised his finger, politely calling with a smile that reached his eyes, one of the waiters to their table. “Good evening,” his smile broadened some more, reaching his eyes. “The first lady and I were wondering where the meats we’ll eat tonight come from, could you find that information for us?”

[mayor-espino]

“It’s not that I don’t like Wellington beef, but surely there are better ways to cook meat, right?” Or maybe he was about to be uncovered as the impostor. Luis liked to cook, but that was something that he owed solely to his mother and his sister. They’d always include him in their kitchen shenanigans and he happily participated each time, if only because it earned him the right to try ingredients as they cooked them.

[360iris]

It’s the same man, the same freaking man.

[mayor-espino]

dcvth​:

Theodore’s finger trails down the cookbook, and hovers over the answer when he senses where this conversation is going. His gaze emerges from behind the pages, like an alligator surfacing from a swamp. This line of conversation is familiar. 

“Four and a half.“ He says, tone appropriately cut and measured, before reaching for a knife to slice said tomatoes with with deft precision. Maybe he uses a little more force than necessary when he does. "We don’t want it to be too acidic.” It’s a nice night - he’s missed his husband - no need to ruin it, but the the subject of children is… tense. Always has been. It would be easier if Theo didn’t want them, it’s worse because he does.  

“She was a good banker,” Theo says, and then - because Theo can’t help himself and has evidently found a fondness for sleeping on the couch - Theo adds: “But I’m hardly surprised, starting a family tends to change people.” 

It would certainly change them. There isn’t a world wherein Theodore raises his child as anything other than a Jabberwock. There isn’t a world wherein Luis lets him. The tomatoes go into the bowl as the smell of the spices permeates the kitchen. Theo leans over to hand over the chopped vegetable. As he does, his nose finds the crook of Luis’ neck and buries there for a moment. An olive branch - his lips press a kiss to that column of skin. Let’s not fight about this tonight. He murmurs: 

“This is certainly the most creative way you’ve decided to approach this conversation.” 

And then he pulls away: "Besides, aren’t our cats enough?” He adds airily. ‘Luis! Your cat is trying to murder me’ he’d howled just that morning as Panettone had waited for him right at the top of the stairs. (Poised and ready to send him tumbling - his calico is the greatest ally for the Jolly Rogers, Theodore is certain of it.) “Not to mention, we’ll never have to fight over what sort of school to send Panettone and Tiramisu to.”

.

“Ah, nothing a dash of sugar couldn’t solve,” he noted with a slight raise of his eyebrows. Busying himself with the spice racks, Luis paused as his husband called him, and his methods out. Caught red handed, huh? He had had more subtle approaches to the matter, he supposed, but the more time passed, the more he came to realize that they most likely would never have children.

They were men in their 40s, hardly the priority as far as adopting families went. They could thank the Members of Parliament currently in office for this, and Theo wouldn’t change his mind on this matter, something Luis was slowly finding peace about. He knew he couldn’t impose this to Theo, that it would be too much of a change for them both, and that it meant adjusting their schedules to include time for their little one.

Parenthood would change them, there was no doubt to be had. Luis knew how his parents had raised him, and there was no doubt he would try to follow their lead. He had a good childhood, and he was aware this wasn’t precisely the norm. Theodore had been raised differently, perhaps more harshly, and Luis wondered if this was why he didn’t feel as enthused about it. Still, he made up for it in affection, and the mayor knew his luck any time his husband seemed to get inside his head and know precisely what he needed in this instant. Leaning into the other’s man touch, he smiled fondly. “I’m glad you appreciate my efforts.”

And there came the cats into play. Luis laughed. “The cats are certainly the perfect way to train at cleaning up after someone, picking up toys all over the house and respecting strict feeding hours,” he mused with a playful smirk. “Panettone and Tiramisu went to the school of shenanigans, graduating with honors,” his smile didn’t die out and he turned to look at him. “Te amo, tu gigante dramatico,” who cursed at cats and complained endlessly about their mischief.

Pushing his spices on top of the vegetables, Luis picked up the wooden spoon in the cast iron pot, taking a huff. “Do you want to do something this weekend?” A pause. “You’ve been working long hours, you deserve the rest,” he suggested. God only knew what Theodore did, who he worked for, but he hadn’t been home much, something Theo must have known affected his husband. Luis too had a busy schedule, but they managed. They usually managed.

[mayor-espino]

augustfinley​:

There’s that one meme August specifically remembers his young son sending him. Something about a man dressing himself more and more like a clown as the text goes further. He always happens to remember it during times like these, when he feels like an expensive show dog being paraded around, doing silly little tricks for treats ­– or money, in this case. The clown makeup was packed on hard today, red nose and all. It was the beginning of the election season, and it was necessary for fundraising to be shifting gear in intensity. A high-class whore, he considered himself, looking pretty and acting nice to the crusty old fucks who wanted to elect one last tory PM before they evaporated into dust, laughing up from hell at the future generations they fucked over in the process.

Not that August really gave a shit about any of that. As long as he stayed at 10 Downing Street, he’d whore himself out to the lobbyists whenever need be. Especially when it meant keeping Espino in his place, where he belonged. It simply wouldn’t do for him to entertain any possibility of actually usurping August’s position at the top. 

Speak of the devil.

Like a cat running into a dog, the hair at the back of August’s neck prickles at the familiar voice. His security detail was clearly slacking; he had specifically requested that the mayor be kept away from him tonight. “Mr. Mayor,” he greeted, nonetheless. It wouldn’t do to seem so pissy when the party was only getting started. “Where’s you husband?” he asked point blank, with a sly little smile. Of course word had already gotten around, that the man who so often accompanied Luis at these events was nowhere to be found.

.

“Mr. Prime Minister,” it was always hard to call him by his title and not how Luis called him when he was home. Botched Up Botox, Bub for short. Ah, it was certainly unbecoming, to come after one man’s vanity, but Luis could be petty and had his childish moments, just like anyone else. While he had no way to prove his claim that the PM had work done, his eyes most likely didn’t lie to him, right?

Besides, if the politician had decided, among all the possible subjects to discuss with his political opponent, to dwell on the mayor’s husband, Luis thought that he had perhaps the right to have a behavior worthy of a 3rd grade student. “You must be well aware that my husband is a highly demanded political advisor,” he began, because if Luis was ever getting a chance to brag about how successful or handsome his man was, he certainly wouldn’t miss it. Now, it would have been pushing it to remind the PM that his wife shared more common points with a leech or a parasite than with a human being, and Luis had to push his tongue against his teeth to keep himself from being unpleasant. “He’s meeting with clients tonight. I’ll let him know you asked for him,” Luis returned the prime minister his smile, though his eyes betrayed his annoyance.

“I’m assuming Meagan must be somewhere. I haven’t seen her yet,” he avoided her. She rubbed him the wrong way, and he had trouble arguing with her kind. There were unfortunately plenty people like her in the UK, and they were all convinced they knew and held the truth in their hands. “Now while my husband’s not around, one of my deputies is here. She’d love to meet you, I’m sure.”

[mayor-espino]

Luis Hector Espino-Muñoz ♦ cismale (he/him) ♦ 43 ♦ Government ♦ Mayor of London

“It is time to say that the problem is that of those who gorge themselves : the banks, the big bosses of the NASDAQ and the CAC 40.”

Born on April 19th, 1979, in London, the second child of María and Eduardo Espino, Luis was raised by parents who had to flee Cuba. His father was involved in local politics, and he had to leave the country when Castro took power. The two political refugees eventually decided to settle permanently in the UK, but for a long time Luis thought he would one day have to leave the only country he had ever known all while being reminded of how lucky he was to be living here in the U.K.

This segment of his life is one that was exploited by his P.R. team during his campaign for mayor and earned him several points in polls.

It was at around the same time that his parents signed him up for scout camps as they didn’t want their son to be idle for two entire months. His older sister spent her summer taking gym classes, and he could use some time away from books. After a few summers, the young boy was put in charge of his group of scouts and that was his first-time experiencing leadership from the top of the pyramid rather than the bottom. He found that he quite enjoyed that, and that he was good at it too. When he started school again in September of that year, Luis had blossomed into a much more confident teenager than he was a couple months before. Although according to his best friend, he was still, by all means, a huge bloody raging nerd, he stopped being nearly as introverted and shy as he once was, and found that through opening up to others, people did the same to him (or maybe was it this little thing called puberty that hit him like a guardian angel).

It would have been a bit disheartening, of course, to realize that your brains and your words mattered a lot more to people if your face was pleasant to look at. Luis fortunately for him, remained oblivious to that. Then, his older sister’s persistence in reminding him that he looked like a Gremlin and a dinosaur had a love child may have helped with being oblivious.

While in high school, Luis volunteered to help a politician for the local elections with the hopes that it would help him in his college applications. Considering how he had been brought up, it wasn’t complicated for him to pick a party to root for: the Labour Party was the obvious choice and one he has stuck to ever since. He learned quite a bit about campaigning, and quite a lot about the way things worked, but although he might have not been the toughest young man, he lacked nothing else to engage in local politics. While studying in college, at the London School of Economics, he used the very few connections he had made while in high school to lend a job with a London councilwoman’s office notably on matters regarding immigration and graduated with a first-class degree award on his bachelor in Local Policies and Economics. He then worked for a non-profit (The British Red Cross) and spent most of his free time assisting Labour party politicians until he was asked to be campaign manager for a candidate in the 2008 mayoral elections.  Their candidate won the elections and moved onto the British Parliament in 2016 at the end of his second term. Luis, in the meantime, had dropped his job with the Red Cross and gotten elected to public office in 2012 as councilman of London. He was reelected in 2016 and decided to offer his name to the Party for the Mayoral elections of 2020.

Now in office, Luis pushes for liberal ideas, advocating for issues ranging from the state of the NHS to the ecological transition of London. He fights gentrification and has launched a series of projects aiming to help the 99% whether through the tackling of immigrational issues, or fundings for promising young entrepreneurs. His long-term plans include Parliament but being the first man of color making it to Prime Minister would also be an honor.

+ / -  Charismatic, level-headed, incisive, passionate, calculating, idealistic, overly empathetic, intense

He’s obsessed with Queen and sometimes quotes the band in speeches. No one’s noticed, so far.

Luis’ hair is speckled with grey streaks, it has been this way since his early 30s.

Luis doesn’t drink often and doesn’t smoke. He makes sure he’s walked at least 10 000 steps every day and does yoga and pilates on  a regular basis. However, he splurges an awful lot on coffee and drinks too much of it. He’s not all that fond of tea, but if you ask him, he’ll pretend he loves earl grey as it is one of those things that makes you untrustworthy to the British eye.

Luis is an avid bird watcher and can imitate many bird songs with ease.

His secretary often moves items in the office to see if Luis will  notice. Detail oriented as he is, it often takes him little time to spot what changed. He could be world champion at the 7 differences game.

Luis eats food in his plate from least liked to most liked.

[haronson]

[mayor-espino]

For @dcvth​ “How many tomatoes do we put in the chili again?” Something like 4, 5, or 6. He was in favor of putting as many as possible, but spontaneity in cooking could lead to a disaster, and this was supposed to be a nice evening with Theo. He was preparing the spices while his husband took out the copybook where they kept their handwritten recipes. Some came from his side of the family, others from Theo’s, and for the most part, Luis didn’t ever look into that copybook. Years of cooking those recipes would do this to anyone, he supposed. “Oh, I ran in our former banker at the farmer’s market earlier. She was huge. They’re expecting twins with her husband,” he didn’t want the conversation to turn sour, and this wasn’t one of his many attempts to make Theo change his mind on that issue. He just felt like they should celebrate people’s happiness. “It’s a shame she moved onto trading, I really liked her.”

[mayor-espino]

@sasha-whitely​

“An interesting theory, which I suppose will have to wait for your term to become a reality,” nothing like a stinging set of words to put back an arrogant Tory in his right place. He didn’t like them, what they stood for, and where they came from. Anyone born in a state of privilege would try by nature to keep that system going. It was logical, nothing less, nothing more. “Excuse me,” meaning go fuck yourself. With a pat to the arm, the mayor went back to his exhausting task of shaking hands and having a few words with everyone present tonight. It wasn’t a particularly huge event for the city, but this particular one was often flocked with politicians and household names you didn’t want to ignore or upset. A face, however, in attendance, was not one he expected to see. 

“And here I thought you couldn’t go anywhere without him,” or maybe was it August who couldn’t go anywhere without Sasha. “Though if you have finally found your mind again, we could always use talented folks in our team.” It was best to have someone like Whitely on his side, but with his connection to the first lady, that was unlikely to happen. Treason, treachery and god knows what else she’d call it.

[mayor-espino]

medihc​:

BOROUGH MARKET,     EARLY MORNING.     [ … ]    @ O P E N

‘Does this look ripe to you?’   The watery question stretched thin,    lifeless and without much conviction.  Love for others forming itself as a wound called sainthood,    the gutted feeling of grieving someone who is currently in the room.   The mango is held loosely in her hand,    she turns it once.   ‘I’m just unsure about the proper seasons here,    you know?’    Murmured out in a monotone,    like a high prophetess in the middle of a religious crisis   — godlessness dragging down her words like a prayer half-swallowed.   She always spoke as though she were torn between the waking world and the nocturnal one.   A flutter of lashes as she draws herself into the present,  focus entirely settling on the other person,  an apologetic smile lightening her expression.   ‘Sorry  […]    you look like you’re in a rush.’

“Hmmm. With those, the more wrinkly they get, the more ripe they are,” which didn’t stop him from liking them with no wrinkles. Passion fruit were a lot more sour then, which he didn’t mind at all. The mayor picked one up and glanced at the price tag. Those were expensive, especially in London, but he supposed that was the price to pay for eating something that needed a plane trip to get here. “Are you from another country?” He asked. “How do you like it here?” It was always nice to get people’s opinion on his city. If he couldn’t control every aspect, he sure tried to make it welcoming for everyone.

“Oh, I’m always in a rush. It’s actually nice to take a break,” he assured her. Luis insisted on shopping for groceries by himself, if only not to be the one politician who thought coffee was worth 10 pence. Besides, it gave him time to speak with Londoners, and he found that to be mostly positive.

[mayor-espino]

javiervidal​:

Emerging from behind the sculpture to get a better look at who he’s talking to, Javier can’t help the bubble of surprised laughter that escapes him. Shit the bed. “Fuckin’ hell, ain’t you the mayor?” Of course, he knows exactly who the man in front of him is. Not only is he the Mayor of London, a lefty-liberal and the proud owner of a very wanky accent, but he’s also Theodore Liddell-Byrne’s husband. Theo’s decision to throw his lot in with Luis Espino, of all people, is a decision Javier could never pretend to understand - how much can you really love a person when you’re completely different at a fundamental level? When they don’t really know a damn thing about you? Total head-fuck.

He makes a sympathetic face when Luis reveals what he’s here for, but inside, he’s fucking giddy. This is just too good. “Ah, shit. Well, in that case, I can hardly let you walk away empty-handed, can I? An antiques dealer I ain’t, but I have bought my fair share of anniversary gifts over the years, so maybe I can help you out.” Not that he thinks Theodore and Lucretia have even remotely the same taste in presents. “What sort of things do they like? Your partner?“

Ah yeah, that happened more often than not. His front page cover following the treaty’s reveal had anchored his face in many Londoner’s eyes, which he considered a good thing. A familiar face could be associated with anything and he intended it to be positive. Of course, those following politics already knew where he stood. A raging communist for the Americans, which meant a pretty moderate leftist in European.  “That’s correct. And who might you be?” It was common courtesy to introduce yourself.

“Are you the owner of this place then?” Because he couldn’t see any other reason why someone would be alone in a shop otherwise. There was, of course, theft, but he doubted these people would do that in broad day light. “My husband,” he began, because he wasn’t about dancing around the topic for hours, “he has a bad habit of buying the things he needs or wants.” Which made gift picking a trial every single time. Luis was thankful they settled on dinner for anniversaries and Valentine’s Day (because Luis couldn’t stand for the capitalism of it), because that reduced his headache to two occasions : Christmas and Birthdays. But this was special. 10 years of marriage. “He smokes. Not that I approve,” but a vintage case for his cigarettes could do. No doubt that it couldn’t possibly replace the designer issued one his husband owned already. “We’re quite fond of board games. Maybe a chess board could do it, but... it’s not tin.” A pause. “10 years of marriage. Has to be tin, which... oh well.” Felt cheap, which wouldn’t have been an issue if it weren’t a present for Theo.

[starwarsfilms]

OSCAR ISAAC Vogue Magazine (2023)

[mayor-espino]

where: a private party

when: 11pm @augustfinley​

God only knew where his husband was tonight. He had been absent most of the week.  “Last minute urgent meetings with clients” he said. Luis wasn’t surprised with the late meetings as much as he was with the frequency of them. Once or twice a week was a norm, for either of them, but it had been happening nearly every night, and Luis couldn’t say the days had been much better. He wasn’t precisely thrilled to go to this fundraiser without him by his side, and had decided to bring his sister with him knowing that she’d have the time of her life and expecting that he wouldn’t have to do it all on his own. It was a bit bold of him to expect his lawyer sister not to take advantage of this to broaden her clientele. Luis figured he’d call a cab home when the all too familiar silhouette of the PM caught his eye. Wine glass in hand, he’d approached the bunch of bodyguards before he’d gone to stand by him. “What a fucking nightmare,” he began. Anyone who attended those events so often was meant to hate them at some point. It was always the same thing. An eternal dinner all to lead to checks being signed. All for show. He hated that. “At least the wine’s good.” Couldn’t go wrong with Chateauneuf du Pape, as his husband had so gracefully taught him years and years ago.

[mayor-espino]

LONDON FALLING : Challenge #1 FIT FOR LONDON

THE PUBLIC EYE

Luis has always made a point of having a polished appearance. If it originally stems from a lack of self confidence, and his mother’s hammering down of the “look the part” mantra into his skull. Of course, now that he’s in office, someone actually handles his public appearances down to the choice of socks, which doesn’t stop Luis from putting in his personal touch to create a sense of authenticity. Famous for his colorful, patterned socks or his bold ties, the London mayor is safely but soundly on his way to earn the right to fight for best dressed politician. It’s not precisely the sort of attention he cares for however, and he’d rather people focused on what he has to say.

PRIVATE LUIS

When it comes to dressing himself up, Luis favors coziness and comfort above everything. He’s rarely seen without his signature round glasses while out and about in his neighborhood. He tends to return to more neutral tones while living the mundane life of a Westminster resident.

[mayor-espino]

javiervidal​:

It’s been all systems go since Javier arrived back in the country a few weeks ago. From the moment the plane touched down, he’s been swept up in an endless blur of meetings and strategies and touring round all of the Jolly Rogers’ business fronts to make sure everything’s kosher, trying to figure out where the problem areas are so he can fix them. It’s what he’s doing at the antique shop today, for his sins - who knew running a gang required so much fucking admin?

Hearing the bell above the door, Javier swears under his breath, having no choice but to step out from the storage room and into the store proper. He’s the only one here, and he needs to get rid of whoever it is, so he can get this shit done and go home. “Alright, mate?” He calls in the direction of the world’s ugliest centrepiece, where the supposed-customer is hidden from view. “The dealer’s out, I’m afraid - might want to come back tomorrow, yeah?”

.

"Oh, I am quite alright,” and there went his chance to go out without being noticed. His eyes strayed from the porcelain monstrosity and toward the man who’d been, he supposed, busy in the back. He didn’t look like he was in sales, or sound like it, and the mayor’s RP accent and choice of words was a sure way to identify him as belonging to a certain caste. He returned easily to a much simpler way of communicating while home with his husband or with his parents, but when out in public, a mask slipped on, one crafted by communicants and assistants.

“Ah, it’s fine. I’m looking to find a wedding anniversary present, but I’m not sure...” Well he had no real idea of what else he was supposed to get his husband. They had anything they could wish for, and Luis spent a good amount of time dissuading his darling spouse of buying things on a whim.