lecho after a break up

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lecho after a break up

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I'm Marigold! (My last name isn't Solis, but that'd be a kick-ass Apollo kid name if it was.) You can call me mara, mari, riri, goldie, or whatever nick name your little selves can come up with. (someone called me mari-geless... i respect the creativity. i also got mars bar) i want to start writing, but I don't know how to start, so askaskaskaskaskaskask. I'm a nerd in every way shape and form, and have ADHD, so I'll post that on my demigod acct✨✨
Did My Pharmacy Have Adderall This Week/Will Any Requests or Fics Be Done Today? : ❌
Pronouns: she/her/hers
The Fandoms I'll Post On Here: PJO, MCGA, HoO, Epic! (i forgot ToA, i'm sorry, dad💔)
My Godly Parent: Apollo☀️
My Ships: Lecho, valdangelo, valgrac(v)e (it's permanent now😝), Piper x Shel, solangelo, percabeth, litpollo, pipabeth, ruegard, fierrochase, odypen, perachel, soldezangelo, lit x leo (i love a good enemies to lovers) perleo, frazel, lazel. i will ramble unstopped abt these. AND AND AND emmmm rachelbeth. because i want more lesbians
and i can yodel.....
a lecho oneshot is possibly underway? 😕
Leo and Echo!
.. .-.. -.--
@its-hard-to-let-go-of-an-echo made me realise I had completely forgotten about Echo (ironically). So I read some fanfic about her and came across Never Forget Her by axelotlthewriter, where Leo remembers Echo exists and goes to find her. The scene in the workshop was so cute that I had to try and draw it.
This is my first time drawing Leo and curly hair and workshops for that matter, please go easy on me 😂
- ✎ᝰ.Yeah, you show me good lovin', make it alright passionate kisses, late night talking, warm hugs, long walks, comfortable silence, and pure adoration

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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i've changed my mind message in a bottle is def lecho's anthem
My father is a lecho fanatic
Be me, Anon lvl 28. Since I remember my father was a lecho fanatic. Since I fucking remember he only made lecho. It started innocent, somewhere during the communist occupation him, my mother and my older brother went to Hungary. He liked it so fucking much that he stole the whole fucking pot from the local Gordon Ramsay and shoved it into his shitty car with mom and my brother and fucking drove away. To this day mom talks about how he ate bowl after bowl with a retarted smile on his face until he was shitting pure liquid. The peak of fucking communism, no fucking gas station anywhere and every now and then he stopped the car and shat orange unto the bushes. But he kept fucking devouring with no end in sight until they ran out. He threw out that pot and said "Honey, tomorrow we're making lecho for dinner!". Mom has panic in her eyes, brother started crying. After returning home he went to the market looking for bell peppers. Motherfucker bought around 30 Kilo, dragged along the cauldron near some glass jars and put it on the gas stove. Oh, how fucking furious he was, as we had a renovation in he apartment building! He ran to the technicians and started fucking beating them with his ladle until the cops locked him up for 24 hours. Nowadays he keeps fucking yapping about how he suffered under communism for this country's freedom. Bullshit. He was suffering because of lecho.
Motherfucker can stay in the kitchen for 4 hours and send me twice a day to get bell peppers from the shop, because he himself is banned. As soon as she sees me, the lady behind the counter, without a word, gets a whole fucking bag of bell peppers from the back of the store. Now drag this like a moron up to the 3rd floor with no elevator. I once wanted to take a bath, and I fucking couldn't because "Not fucking now, the bell peppers are in there!". Fucking hell, I can't even take a bath in my own house! Motherfucker will stand over the pot and talk to himself "ooh I'd love to eat some lecho rn". He can fill up the whole fucking freezer with this shit. When I was a kid, on Easter he told us to look for gifts from the Easter Bunny near the apartment building, and what did I fucking find under a bush? A jar of fucking lecho! Great fucking gift. I'm not even gonna mention how the jar was warm and that old fuck stole it from me and fucking devoured it for breakfast. Besides, he doesn't eat anything else. One time I wanted to eat some ice cream. Of course dad had to help me with that and made fucking lecho ice cream! Fucking imagine that, lecho on a fucking stick! Once he added way too much salt and pepper because the whole container fell into the pot. And he fucking ate it like that. 15 litters in two days, can you imagine that?! He ate and shat lecho. My brother told him to install a pipe from his ass to his mouth, because he got fucking mad. Dad beat him with a bag of bell peppers, and then lamented that he wasted 20 kilo on him! Christmas, Holidays, funeral wakes, he only ate fucking lecho for dinner! We don't have any guests over anymore, because who's gonna eat lecho while drinking vodka. One time on a trip to Cracow I wanted to go to a McDonalds, he replied that "you're not gonna eat that fucking kemichal slop, daddy made some good food" and takes out a military thermal cup in the middle of the city square. Thankfully mom had 2 loafs of bread for this occasion. I feel ashamed before my peers because when they were sending me off to Biskupin for a trip, dad brought a barrel full of fucking lecho! "Eat some, you're gonna walk for the whole day!" He's able to put a whole fucking pig into it instead of just sausage. Because it's apparently cheaper. He bought an electric cauldron with 500 liters of capacity and put it in the building's dryer room. The block's administration started ignoring the neighbours' pleads for him to fucking throw it out of there. They gave up after the 70th complaint. He now orders bell peppers from a farm. In massive quantities. Mom's crying, because now we have no money for anything except lecho. So he came up with the idea of a bar, where he will only serve lecho. Dense, Diluted, any way you can fucking imagine!
Whenever he could, dad tried to get money for his new investment. After visiting a few banks, where, by the way, they told him he's a fucking lobotomite, he sat furious for a week, scheming. He schemed so fucking hard, that on saturday, at 4AM, he left the occupied drying room, screaming something about Hungary. After half a year they cut off electricity in the drying room, so he would only sit there and hug the cauldron. He went back to cooking home, driving the gas bill through the fucking roof. He kept crying over how everyone at the administration doesn't understand anything and only take rent. Overall those fucks could've left his electricity on, because now the whole flat fucking reeks again. He came back home with fury in his eyes, saying how those whores didn't want to sell him a ticket for a polish bus with luggage in the form of a 500 liter cauldron! Finally he bargained out a bus from an uncle who worked construction, which he will use to go to Hungary. He kept fucking yapping about his grand vision, all day chopping up the fucking peppers in the bathroom, taking turns standing over the pots in the kitchen. He would swing that shit around like he was on fucking speed! His eyes were even fucking glowing.
Next day uncle drove up, and this fuck told him to put that fucking cauldron in the baggage. They got really mad at each other, because he also wanted to get some money for gas. Truly polish. They started fucking fighting in that dryer room, so much that mom had to separate them. Old fuck got a bruised eye and kept lamenting. Uncle took his bus and that's the last we've seen of him. He's on terrible terms with my dad. I can't blame him to be honest. He ate a whole fucking cauldron to calm down, of course unstirred lecho, which managed to burn at the bottom. He kept fucking screaming at us how it's our fault that we didn't keep an eye on it. I don't give a shit.
This time he tried his luck with his buddy from work, but he only had a passenger car. Father complained like a motherfucker, but whatever, he loaded 15 fucking liters onto the car and off they went. We had 5 days of peace at home. He came back driving next to the house in some truck with some equipment and screamed "Honey, I'm leaving work! I found a fucking investor in Hungary!". This was way too fucking much. Out of the truck came some dude in my dad's age and started talking some bullshit about byshy ryshy kyshe lecho eshgdar. I had no fucking clue what he was talking about. Dad didn't either, but he was happy like a child. Apparently when he was away he molested some translator, who had enough of him and agreed to translate a business proposition.
After a week of cooking and devouring lecho in ungodly amounts they bought some crackhouse in the outskirts of the city to renovate it. That old fuck was excited to the max and literally orgasmed at the thought of making money from lecho. I don't give a fuck, I hope he does well. I had enough of this shit already, so I decided to move out. Mom is fucking furious at me, father even more, since who's gonna fucking help him. I told him to fuck off and to hire someone. After the renovation they started their business. At the beginning he kept abusing his electric cauldron and selling everything but he wasn't cooking fast enough. He was so incredibly pissed that he had to hire someone to help. That poor man didn't know what he signed up for. Everything he did was fucking wrong, because he made the fucking lecho wrong, because he did it in a diffrent way, because he's gonna fucking lose it. In the meantime I moved away 50km away from home. But sadly, it's not the end of the adventure.
It's been a couple of weeks since I was home. I call mom everyday, she's not that pissed anymore since dad isn't home for days and his business is bringing in some money. She told me abou how he apearantly went insane because people are eating lecho like crazy and he's gonna build a fucking factory alongside this Hungarian. God damn, good for him. Maybe it's for the better.
No it fucking wasn't. He got so unreasonable that he decided to get himself the biggest fucking cauldron in the whole fucking world. Insanely fucking big. I had no idea what that would look like. The dude my father hired at the beginning even got a higher position. Even tough he's the CEO, my dad does everything himself, becase he gets fucking furious when he sees how they mismanage his lecho. Mom called me and told me that dad is trying to secure funding . Turns out he secured a fucking beating. Turns out even the marshall wanted to sue him, because of how insane he was when submitting the application. Fucker wanted funding for innovation, they laughed him off and told him that lecho isn't innovation and told him to fuck off. Like, in a nutshell. I heard that he got insanely mad because he lost his chance at money. But it wasn't all so bad, as he secured a contract for lecho with Biedronka (european chain store). Now besides this enourmous fucking cauldron he will also have a whole array of freezers. When the Hungarian heard the news he was jacking off for a week, taking turns with the secretary. I mean, she jacked him off, not him her.
I said 'fuck it' and decided to go see what's going on with my father. I'm driving on the express road and suddenly I see a collosal fucking factory from 10 km away. I thought "oh you old fucker, you sly dog". Imagine a pressure cooker the size of the fucking Culture Palace. And on it, a giant fucking neon sign, proclaiming 'LECHO!'. Motherfucker now orders peppers and tomatoes in wagons. He hires like 500 people, but "they don't know anything about lecho, I need to watch over everything myself". I drive up to the factory, he comes out saying "see sonny, you should've stayed here and helped me, you would've been a supervisor". We enter a really fancy office, and I can't fucking believe my eyes. A pool full of lecho! A whole fucking olympian swimming pool full of fucking lecho! Old fuck takes off all his clothes and jumps into this fucking pool. What the fuck is going on here?! I'm leaving, I can't take this anymore. On the way out I trip on some scared technician's foot. He's screaming "Boss, the pressure lock got fucked, everything's about to blow up!". I turn around and I see terrified dad with his junk out, looking at the newly formed cracks on the biggest lecho cauldron in the wold. "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKK!!!!!!!". He didn't even get a chance to finish, when all the lecho started flooding the town as if Johnny from Brazzers came through that crack. They even talked about it on national television. A whole city flooded in lecho!
Dad got such a trauma that I kinda felt bad for him. All he did was reheat the lecho from the freezer and eat it, he didn't say a word to anyone. He fucking devoured lecho and stayed silent. Oh no, sorry, he got diarrhea, but even on the toilet while shitting only lecho came out. He only complained in his sleep about some motherfucker named Zenek who sabotaged his factory out of envy. Until that day came. And I foolishly hoped that it would never come. He woke up screaming "I GOT IT!".
"I KNOW, I FUCKING GOT IT!". At that moment all of my optimism burst like a grown, mature cyst. Why the fuck did I decide to move back in? Dad got dressed up and, to everyone's suprise, didn't swallow a jar of lecho for breakfast, he just flung out th front door even faster then when he was going to Hungary. I tought "what the fuck did he come up with this time? He got enough insurance money to sit on his ass all day and not move an inch". But not my father. He came back in the afternoon. Red like a motherfucker and gasping as if he had a heart attack. I expected another bag of peppers, but I was sadly mistaken. He got a satchel weighing like 50 kilo, some bags full of clothes. You won't guess what this old retard came up with. You won't fucking guess.
I wouldn't have guessed either. Until he sadly enlightened me. "Anon, remember that neighbour who kept going to shamans? The one downstairs?". I wasn't sure where he was going with this. "Yeah I do, but what about her?". Oh how I fucking regret asking..."Because they LECHO cancer! And they healed her!" (Lecho sounds like polish word 'heal' or 'cure'). Oh my fucking God. He throws the open bag onto the glass table, out of which medical insruments spill out. The bag is heavy like a motherfucker, the table breaks, mom screams at dad, dad screams back that nothing happened and that he'll buy a new one, some dog in the corridor (since when do we have a dog?!) wans to take a shit cuz dad only feeds him lecho and has the same medical maladies as him. A fucking crawling circus. Yes, you guessed correctly. He wants to cure cancer with LECHO! I'm at my fucking limit. He called the uncle from construction, but when the call connected, I only heard a collection of the finest insults directed at my father. "Fuck him". He retaliated. He went to the post office to put up an ad to the newspaper. A couple of days later he found a new place with a giant fucking neon (yes, the one leftover from the factory)- here we LECHO cancer. He even recorded an ad with his phone, which he sent to our cable tv: a woman walks on the street and asks a bystander "where do they LECHO cancer?", and then my dad in a white lab coat jumps out screaming "HERE THEY LECHO!" and adress. I felt nothing but shame. I can't show my face in town. Patients are going in like crazy. As you can probabbly imagine, they don't cure cancer. Afer half a year my dad got found out by the government for not having a right to be a doctor. And it all went to shit. They gave him a year with possible parole, luckily he paid off with the insurance money from the factory. Now he fucking cries about how you can't do anything in this country. You had a great fucking idea you old moron. He was so furious he started eating and shiting lecho again. Until one day he brought home some newspapers: Polish Fisherman, Fisherman's World and Super Carp. And so it began...
Y morirme contigo: quedarme en ese lecho y escucharte, volver a besarte y abrazarte y que me abraces, decirte que te quiero y que me quieras, decir que yo te aviso al llegar, despedirme mientras te llevo en mi sonrisa y morirme contigo cuando tengamos miedo y no nos volvamos a encontrar, morir cuando ya nos besemos las mejillas y se te olviden mis lunares y a mi tu nombre.
Bárbara Martínez